May 2010

The May 2010 update is the fifth update in 1999: Creepypasta.

## Text

Last month, I finally got my G2 license (in Ontario, Canada, this allows you to drive in a car by yourself as well as with some passengers after 6 months). I, of course, took advantage of this and drove into Caledon for a little “Sunday drive.” Since I haven’t updated this blog in a while, I figured I might as well visit the house where the infamous channel of my childhood was located. The house looked different than when I last saw it in October. The place was no longer used as a daycare, and just sat there abandoned. However, it did have a “For Sale” sign showing that someone still owned it, wanting to get rid of it, though.

The abandoned house drew fuzzy memories from my mind, mainly of that day my dad took me to visit Mr. Bear. A feeling of dread came upon me. What happened to the children while they were living in that house? I walked up the steps to the front door and peered through the window. Inside I could see a nearly empty hallway with a few boxes at the end.

At the end of the hallway to the right was an open doorway presumably leading to the kitchen. To the left were two doors, both apparently leading to the rooms visible through the windows outside. I wondered where the cellar entrance was located and whether it had been sealed up. I walked around to the back of the house and found my answer. Two wooden doors lying at an almost flat angle were padlocked shut; this had to lead to the cellar. Not wanting to hang around (you cannot imagine what was going through my mind at that time), I departed.

Behind the house, the empty field continued on until it reached a dense forest that lined the horizon. I wondered if that was the forest where the bodies of the children were found. I thought to myself “Fuck it” and proceeded to walk across the field behind the house into the forest. The forest was oddly quiet, save for the few periodic sounds of a woodpecker drilling into a distant tree. I cautiously made my way deeper into the woods, not really caring about the fact that I had no idea where I was going. I don’t know how to explain it, but it felt like there was something I had to find. I came to a thinner part of the woods and few small houses in the distance. Pollo’s house crossed my mind and I wondered if one of these homes had belonged to him. I neared a small clearing in which I could see 3 adequately sized logs gathered around a black, charred area (showing a small fire had been lit there recently).

“HEY! GET THE FUCK OUT OF OUR FORT!” Those words nearly gave me a heart attack. I turned to my left and saw two dark-clothed people running towards me. My initial thought was to run, however as they came closer I saw they were really just kids in their early teens, possibly 13 or 14, maybe even 12. As they approached me, they realized my size as well. I’m 6’ 1”, while they could have been no bigger than 5’ 8” (one might have been 5’ 7”).

“We said… get the fuck out,” the larger one who was wearing a Slipknot shirt said half-heartedly. I stood my ground and shrugged. The shorter one who was wearing a Metallica shirt swung out a butterfly knife and held it in my direction.

“No, you wouldn’t want to,” I said in a deep, serious tone (trying to sound as badass as possible). I pulled out my cell phone.

The two kids withdrew, the one in the Metallica shirt putting away the knife. “Look, dude, we don’t like people in our fort, so can you just go?” the one in the Slipknot shirt said, obviously intimidated. I had no business in the forest anyway, so I uttered out a simple “fine” and turned before I realized I had a great opportunity.

“Did either of you hear of a guy who murdered a bunch of kids in these woods about… 13 years ago?” I asked the kids. The two looked at each other in confusion, before the one wearing the Metallica shirt answered.

“Yeah… everyone knows about that guy,” he said to me as if I were stupid. The kid in the Slipknot shirt continued, “He still lives around here, in the storm drain… my big brother’s friend says he saw him in a bear costume once, wandering around the forest at night.”

My instincts told me this was probably a lie, and the owner of Caledon Local 21 is probably long gone, only existing as folklore in this smaller isolated community. However, as a human, the thought of the mysterious unknown sparks interest within. “And where is the storm drain?” I asked (Just out of curiosity, I don’t actually believe the kid’s story). The Kid in the Metallica shirt stared at me for a few moments, his eyes seemingly full of annoyance, yet curiosity for me. “You’re not from around here, are you? Why did you even come here?” Now, I do admit I was slightly startled by the nature of his question. However, I figured I might as well explain why I was there, just in case people mistook my intentions. I told the two kids about my experience with the man and Caledon local 21, and that I had to come to maybe seek out some sort of closure (although though even I wasn’t exactly sure).

The kids seemed familiar with the channel as they smiled and looked at each other when I mentioned it. They also became more understanding and gave me a detailed description on how to get to the storm drain. Shortly after, I decided to just turn around the way I came and head back to the house, leaving the kids at their fort. But now you’re probably wondering why I left out such detail about what the kids told me just now, it is it because I’m choosing to conclude what I have gathered now.

Here is what the kids told me in detail:

* The storm drain lies ahead of the kids’ fort, the same direction I was heading.
* The drain ends at a small river, where access water is drained out. Near here is a small playground (the kids told me people rarely use it).
* The man supposedly lives in the large pipe that rainwater drains out of. People have seen him, although always either wearing a bear mask or the mask and a full body bear costume. Note: I do not believe this is true, and in fact simply a myth made by the residents of Caledon. The story does not seem plausible in any way, why did no one call the police? Didn’t this guy look suspicious? And other questions like these leave the story invalid.

I may visit the storm drain. Not because I believe the story, but because I want an excuse to visit Caledon again, so this blog doesn’t die (With no more tapes to watch, I don’t know what to talk about anymore!).

Thanks for continuing to support me and my blog. I know many are looking forward to more information about what happened in Caledon during the year 1999, and I will do my best to continue my research into the topic. Elliot out.