Today marks the twelve year anniversary of the last episode of Creepy America. I know this because of the article I’m reading, recounting the strange and bizarre tale of the webshow. My webshow. My life, for the better part of four years. And even though it arguably destroyed me, brought me to this point where I live alone, working hard jobs to keep this tiny, shitty one person apartment, news of Creepy America never ceases to bring me joy.
Which brings me to the reason I am writing.
This morning, I received a letter saying that the server charges for the official Creepy America website had gone up once again, this time to a level that I couldn’t even convince myself into thinking I could pay. My complaints have been ignored; I am positive that a silent actor has been forcing the charges to increase, regardless of the actual cost of maintaining the site. This is no doubt the same person who broke into my apartment and storage locker and stole every remaining physical copy of the Creepy America episodes. I wish I could muster the energy to be outraged, or even horrified, but I knew this day would come sometime.
Barring any action from my co-host to stop these actions, something I know will never happen, this would be where the webshow dies. But I’m a stubborn bastard and I’ll be damned if it does.
So here I am, alone, in a small, dark room, writing my memoirs of the craziest, scariest, most dangerous, and happiest years of my life. My goal is to preserve the memories of “Creepy America”: those days and nights spent in the R.V., traveling from city to city, investigating, finding, and recording the secret places that the world does their best to keep hidden. It’s only this way that those days will stay alive. Files corrupt. Memories fade. Even history can be re-written. But if the show has proved anything, it’s that words will exist forever, even if they aren’t supposed to.
To the Newcomers:
I imagine that most people who track down these stories will be the life-long fans. However, I imagine that some will simply stumble onto these stories by accident. That’s okay; it’s actually what I’m counting on.
But that means that there’s a good chance that, if you’re reading this, you don’t know what “Creepy America” is. I don’t want to delude myself into thinking that everyone who reads this will have memories of the show, especially given the fickleness of internet fame, so I want to take this time to explain what the show was; veteran Creepers, feel free to skip ahead.
Creepy America was a webshow, published and broadcasted online. It was big back in its day. The show generated enough revenue to make money off of, and it’s popularity caused a few “War of the Worlds”-styled hoaxes.
To the outside world, the draw of the show was obvious. Based on the creepypasta explosion that made the world obsessed with Slenderman and others, Creepy America combined professional-level special and practical effects with the low-budget style of found footage to make for a scarily realistic horror series. The actual recording team was kept invisible, placing all attention and credit to the two co-hosts of the show. The mysterious mythos that was hinted at several times but never fully explained also added to its popularity and quite a few people praised us for our clever writing and dedication to preserving the illusion.
Of course, this couldn’t be further from the truth. Creepy America was just a low-budget production. Zoey and I were the only ones who worked on the show. Nothing was scripted. As our show gained attention, a choice was demanded of us from powerful forces: stop filming, or tow the “fake” line. We chose what we believed to be the lesser of two evils.
Things escalated, though. I won’t try to summarize the details here; they will be explained better in the stories to come. But twelve years ago, we were obligated to end it, and the show has slowly faded into obscurity since then.
To the Veteran Creepers:
Before we begin, I have to give you a warning: if you’re looking for answers, this isn’t the place to find them.
The events and things we uncovered during Creepy America remain unexplained to this day. I have spent the better part of twelve years researching various aspects of science and parascience trying to find those answers, and I am no closer to finding them than I was when we decided to stop our broadcast. Red Eyes, Reverend Jones, even the Archangel Foundation: I don’t know what the truth is. So if you expect a book explaining how everything fits together perfectly like little puzzle pieces, I’m afraid you’re going to be sorely disappointed. I have my theories, and I have my hunches, but, as I’ve stated on the show before, speculation without proof is worthless. As it is not my intention to further confuse an already bizarrely muddled and misunderstood set of facts, I will leave my ideas to myself and simply report on what happened.
What’s inside is is a collection of my memories about the strange occurrences that we filmed in our four years on the road. I know that there have been many requests to elaborate on some of the details that were left out of the show: what happened during our streaming blackout, the exact location of Devil’s County, what we learned about Voltaire’s DNA sample from the scientists. I can answer a few of those questions, and I intend to. Some things, unfortunately, are gone. My records are lost, and even my memory is beginning to turn fuzzy. I have also lost contact with my associate, meaning that unless she publishes her own statements on these events, I have no witnesses to back up anything. Given how things ended between us, I doubt that will ever happen. You will simply have to trust that what I say is true. If you’ve stayed with me this far, though, I think that you’re willing to take that leap of faith.
Which brings me to my last point: everything was true. Some of you believed, but everyone had doubts. I don’t blame you. We marketed ourselves as clever writers whose fictional tales contained just enough details to seem plausible. After the threatened lawsuit, we had to place a disclaimer on our show’s opening. Even those of you who are going to find these stories are going to find it described as “fiction”. There are reasons we did so, good reasons, reasons that are detailed in this book. I’m tired of lying, though. Even lies told with the best of intentions will eat through your soul. I’m not sure how well this admission will go over with the higher powers in charge, but I no longer care. As Zoey herself once said in the show, consequences be damned.
So to newcomers and old fans alike, here it is: the bare truth about “Creepy America”, all three years of our journeys across the United States. Once more I say to you the line that began every episode since our second broadcast: get your flashlights out, and get ready to shine some light on the darkened corners of the world. Welcome to the America you never knew existed.
Welcome to Creepy America.
-Liam Foster, co-host of Creepy America