The Chapin Disappearance: The Creeper Returns

Two years ago, just before Halloween, something strange happened on a quiet street in Chapin. Around midnight, neighbors heard scratching outside, followed by a sharp bark, then silence. By morning, the Dunne family’s golden retriever puppy, Goldy, was gone. No signs of struggle. No tracks. Just a foul, wet smell near the old manhole at the edge of the woods, and one long, glistening claw left behind.

While the police had no answers, siblings Finn and Sloane Dunne knew who had taken their dog: the Gamecock Creeper. Their grandfather had told them stories, how the Creeper lived in steam tunnels stretching from Columbia to the Midlands, and how he hunted for things left unguarded. Most people dismissed it as legend. The Dunnes didn’t.

Determined to save their best friend, Finn and Sloane pried open the rusted manhole and descended into the steam tunnels, armed with only flashlights, snacks, and a dog whistle. What they found was miles of winding pipes, claw marks on concrete, and shredded feathers that weren’t from any bird. Hours passed. Then they heard it, scraping, breathing, a low growl. At the end of a corridor glowing faintly red from old steam valves, they saw him, the Creeper, crouched, gaunt, draped in a shredded USC sweater, one pale hand curled around Goldy’s leash. They didn’t scream. 

They stared. And the Creeper... blinked. Nobody knows exactly what happened next. But the Dunnes emerged just before sunrise, muddy, scraped, and triumphant, with Goldy safe in their arms. Since that night, the manhole has been sealed with concrete. But each Halloween, the air near it turns warm. Damp. And if you listen closely, you might still hear a whistle echoing below.