The Russian Bat Experiment - Animated CreepypastaE

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The Russian Bat Experiment

During the Cold War, Soviet scientists in Magadan began experiments weaponizing nature itself. They wanted to spread deadly viruses over enemy borders using small animals as carriers. The laboratory-made viruses were so potent that they killed most animals instantly, which presented a logical challenge for the scientists... to find a vector that could survive the virus when humans could not. They decided to try vampire bats. These were ideal creatures because they were accustomed to feasting on the blood of diseased and dead animals and had natural immunity to some of the manufactured viruses’ deadliest features.

Unfortunately, these tropical bats could not survive the brutal Russian winter, even in a controlled environment. The project stalled until they could breed a new type of resilient vampire bat. One with thick fur, a robust constitution, and an increased blood storage capacity. Augmented by Pleistocene gene splicing and radiation exposure, the scientists produced twelve abnormally large vampire bats suitable for the toughest climates. Despite their size and density, when they were injected with the deadly virus these genetic monsters withered and died. All except one. A very special bat.

This test subject was much larger than the others. Perhaps that is why he could endure the deadly chemicals injected into his veins. His oily wings were heavy and the thick leather membrane squeaked when he splayed his clawed fingers. His belly was swollen and he breathed in long, loud gasps. Most horrifying of all and unlike any bat every recorded, this creature could speak. He called himself HUGO.

The scientists, terrified yet driven by the overmastering spell of discovery, attempted to train Hugo. They spoke to him and taught him the rudiments of reading and writing. In time, he could carry a conversation with his “hosts” as he called them. When he performed his tasks well he was rewarded with blood that was drawn from political prisoners in the Gulag and stored in huge vats. Hugo drank, and drank, and drank. The more blood he took in, the more he needed. He demanded more and refused to cooperate with the training regimen. Eventually he reversed the scientists’ role. Instead of rewarding him with blood when he performed to their expectations, he had trained them to provide blood in exchange for compliance. When he was interrogated by intelligence officials about his creators Hugo laughed, and in a guttural voice, sticky and wet, he called the researchers “little meat packets.”

Once, when looking at a picture of the night sky, Hugo spoke his true mind. He wanted to be set free from the laboratory so he might “taste all the kinds of blood in the world.” “Let me fly,” he Demanded in tone that hinted of mockery and threat. “You keep me here. You deprive me. You starve me.”

The overseers of the project had condemned the project long before. The plans to disperse viruses through animal vectors was deemed unreasonably dangerous. They had only allowed Hugo to exist thus far out of sheer, horrified curiosity. Despite the scientific opportunities such a creature presented, authorities commanded Hugo’s termination. An execution squad armed with rifles marched into the laboratory with orders to arrest the scientists and destroy all evidence of their abominable work. But they were too late. The entire research staff was dead. They lay curled in contorted positions, drained, shrink wrapped in their own pallid skin and collapsing inward like emptied sacks. Hugo had vanished, but before he left he had scrawled with the tip of his claw on the outside of the facility... “Fresh blood tastes best.”

Reports arrived two days later from the nearest Gulag. All of the prisoners and guards were reduced to leathery husks. Not a single drop of blood remained in their veins. Victims were found all along the so-called “Road of Bones”, the path Hugo had taken on his way into the heartland of Russia. Then, suddenly, in the deep cold of winter, the killings stopped. The rampage ended.

Few records survived the purges, but one NKVD memo marked “Not for Distribution” declared the “Experiment was Contained.” Decades passed in relative silence. Rumors were squashed with ridicule. Families of the decedents were paid off or threatened into silence. “Hugo” became a boogeyman to frighten unruly children.

That was, until two years ago when a derelict fishing trawler was found on Turkey’s Black Sea coast. Inside, every crewman was dead. Pale, their veins collapsed, drained of blood. Their skeletons were wrapped in dry skin, twisted into positions of eternal agony. Only one piece of evidence hinted at the cause. Scratched into the rusted iron hull of the ship were the words:

“Hugo is Famished”

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All proceeds go to my son's college education fund. Hugo was written by a father and son team without the use of AI. In fact we drew it in MS Paint. Videos are not monetized. Music clips are the property of the copyright holders.