ClancyPasta | Internet Horror Stories
Oct 9, 2026 · 32 min · 12 segments
"...the sun wasn't even up yet..." CLANCYPASTA PRESENTS ► "Behind the Lattice" written by XImXTheXOneX, narrated by ClancyPasta Here are ways to support the podcast if you wish ~ PATREON ►…
Nearly the entire 26 years we've been together, married for 19 of them, Mags has told me cigarettes would be my early death.
As is usually the case, she was right.
However, I don't think even my beloved woods witch could have predicted it would happen quite like this.
Although I am certain it is happening, and I will die tonight.
My pack of smokes is, after all, nearly empty now.
Perhaps I should be grateful for that.
It won't be slow or painful.
In some dismal hospital room in a noisy, crowded city.
With specialists administering medication and treatments just as painful as cancer or emphysema.
And while I don't imagine this is going to be more dignified, it will definitely be quicker.
I hope.
Come to think of it, Mags was wrong about at least one thing.
Wanting to live way out here, isolated in the middle of nowhere, where sinister creatures roam, hidden, while civilized folks convince themselves those things don't exist.
Millersburg is about as beautiful as northern Michigan gets, if you love to look at the trees.
Which, of course, Mags does.
I knew how hard the winters would be, growing old out here, though, and wasn't as convinced as she seemed to be about this little house out in the sticks.
She'd always wanted to live somewhere like this, though, long before she was my Mags.
when she was still Margaret Baker.
Our hometown, where both of us had been born and raised.
I had always expected to get a job in a local factory after high school, or become a truck driver like my dad and grandpa had been.
Find a wife, have some kids.
A simple life for a simple man.
Nearly the entire 26 years we've been together, married for 19 of them, Mags has told me cigarettes would be my early death.
As is usually the case, she was right.
However, I don't think even my beloved woods witch could have predicted it would happen quite like this.
Although I am certain it is happening, and I will die tonight.
My pack of smokes is, after all, nearly empty now.
Perhaps I should be grateful for that.
It won't be slow or painful.
In some dismal hospital room in a noisy, crowded city.
With specialists administering medication and treatments just as painful as cancer or emphysema.
And while I don't imagine this is going to be more dignified, it will definitely be quicker.
I hope.
Come to think of it, Mags was wrong about at least one thing.
Wanting to live way out here, isolated in the middle of nowhere, where sinister creatures roam, hidden, while civilized folks convince themselves those things don't exist.
Millersburg is about as beautiful as northern Michigan gets, if you love to look at the trees.
Which, of course, Mags does.
I knew how hard the winters would be, growing old out here, though, and wasn't as convinced as she seemed to be about this little house out in the sticks.
She'd always wanted to live somewhere like this, though, long before she was my Mags.
when she was still Margaret Baker.
Our hometown, where both of us had been born and raised.
I had always expected to get a job in a local factory after high school, or become a truck driver like my dad and grandpa had been.
Find a wife, have some kids.
A simple life for a simple man.
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