Geitefødsel: The Night of the Goat

📅 Published on January 31, 2021

“Geitefødsel: The Night of the Goat”

Written by Ryan Peacock
Edited by Craig Groshek
Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek
Narrated by N/A

Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).

🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available

ESTIMATED READING TIME — 12 minutes

Rating: 9.80/10. From 5 votes.
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In my youth, I had a wild streak. I was a teenager during the years when heavy metal began to get old. The group I ran with was fine with the classics, but they wanted something a little more extreme. We wanted something wild, raw and unfiltered and we found it in Black Metal.

Now don’t get me wrong. I still am a huge fan of Black Metal. It’s nostalgic, and all these years later I’ve never stopped enjoying it. I can even recommend some truly outstanding bands if you were interested. I can see why not everyone gets the appeal, but I stand by the genre. That said, in the early days, I won’t deny that things did get a little bit out there and I was part of that.

At the time, some friends and I had arranged to spend a few months in Norway. The official story was that we were going to study abroad. The truth was, we just wanted to go to some badass concerts. The best bands were still fairly underground. This was back during the days when Dead was still the frontman of Mayhem and the scene was still wild, so there was a lot to see.

There were a lot of bands creeping around the underbelly of the scene at that time. My friends and I all had different favorites, but mine was Lust.

Lust’s gimmick was that they had a female vocalist. In fact, most of the lineup was female, including the guitarist and bassist. The drummer was the only man. They were just kids but man oh man did they know what they were doing. They really should have broken out and made it big time, but they didn’t have that big of a fanbase.

Their concerts were so raw and aggressive. The vocalist, Anja Mehl seemed determined to sex up the entire black metal subculture as much as she possibly could. She’d come onstage half-naked and strip off her clothes as she performed. She’d smear blood on her breasts and spit blood into the mouths of the other two girls on the stage.

Looking back on it, I suppose I used to imagine I had a chance with her. I thought I was just crazy enough to make her fall for me, and I would’ve done anything she said.

The guitarist, Rebekka Olstad was no less interesting. She was nothing special in regards to the way she played. But she’d typically come out shirtless and wearing a taxidermied goat’s head. She was the image of Baphomet shredding dark riffs on the stage and the audience loved her for it. The head usually fell off halfway through the shows, but Rebekka had insisted it was a metaphor for Satan giving birth to Sin through his forehead and most fans ate that up. The collapse of the goat head was something of a special event at their concerts, and when it fell the audience would always chant.

SIN! SIN! SIN! SIN!

Ida Wollen was the bassist. Unlike the vocalist and the guitarist, she had less of a gimmick. She typically dressed in all black and had stolen Dead’s corpse paint long after he started using it. But that was all there was to her.

Then there was the drummer, Thor Egeland. He wasn’t the band’s first drummer, more of an in-between piece. Their first drummer had been another woman, but supposedly she’d quit. They’d never bothered to replace Thor. He was barely just a kid, but he fit in just fine.

We’d been staying in Oslo, but I’d been fine with traveling to try and catch Lust’s shows. I usually took a bus or caught a ride with a friend so I could get as wasted as I wanted. The shows were mostly small affairs. Little venues with nightly shows of various local bands. Black Metal was still small at the time, but there were enough bands to keep a steady rotation going.

I was drunk and had smoked most of a joint when I officially met the band. I’m not sure what the hell had gotten into my head, but I’d decided to wait out behind the venue for them after the show.

I barely recognized them outside of their concert attire. Rebekka looked almost unrecognizable with her hair tied back and a black T-shirt on. I watched them bringing their equipment into an old van and stepped out to offer some help.

I already knew that their English was pretty good, so I didn’t bother fumbling my first impression with my butchered Norwegian.

“Hey, do you guys need a hand?”

Anja looked up at me, a little surprised before giving a nod.

“Yeah. We’d appreciate it, thanks.”

She directed me to their amps which I was more than happy to help carry.

“I loved your show,” I said. “I’ve been following you guys around for a while. You’re great!”

“Glad to know someone’s listening,” Rebekka said. She stared at me intently for a few moments.

“I think I have seen you in the crowd before… You look familiar.”

“Thanks.” It was all I could think to say at the moment.

When I’d helped them pack up, the inevitable offer for a beer came. They were just being polite, I saw that then. But I was more than happy to indulge. I’d been dreaming of hanging out with Lust for months, and it was basically a dream come true!

We sat around their van, probably overdoing it with the booze and shooting the breeze like we’d known each other for years.

“So, are you coming to our show tomorrow night?” I remember Anja asking me. We’d ended up at a little bar a short ways down the road. It was after midnight and dead silent, but that was fine with us.

Thor had left us to go and sleep in the van, so it was just myself, Anja, Rebekka and Ida alone at a bar.

“Yeah, I was planning on it,” I said. I knew they’d be at a slightly larger show with a few more well-known bands.

“Nice, nice. Well, if you are, maybe you could ride in with us. We could use the help setting up. I’ll make sure you’re in the front. Maybe we can get a drink after, sound good?” Her words slurred together a little bit. She was clearly drunk, but her proposition still sounded like the best idea I’d ever heard.

“Yeah! Hell yeah, that sounds great!” I said.

“Atta boy!” Rebekka replied. “You got a car? You can ride in with us if you don’t.”

Now that just sounded like a dream come true.

“I caught a ride in with a friend, actually,” I said, “He’s probably waiting on me to give him a shout to pick me up. But honestly, I’d be down to ride with you guys for a bit.”

That was all it took to settle it.

They couldn’t really pay me for being their roadie, but I was just fine with that. They covered the drinks, and I got to go to a bunch of free shows. It wasn’t just them I watched play. There were plenty of other bands, most of them were small, but a few would go on to be considered synonymous with the rise of Black Metal. I didn’t just see them either, I drank and got high with them. I saw Mayhem, and even hung out with Euronymous and Dead before the latter’s suicide and the former’s murder.

It was awesome, and I’ve got tales to tell. But those are for another day. Right now, I’m only here to talk about how it ended.

I’d been traveling with Lust for almost two months at that point. During the week, we’d all go back to work. But come the weekend it was the five of us in their little van, going between gigs.

Rebekka seemed to manage the day to day of the band. Thor was just a kid along for the ride, just like I was while Anja was in it for the thrills. Ida was the only one I never really got a read on. I’d chalked her up to being like Anja, in it for the thrill of it. But she and I never really talked much. I spent most of my time with Anja and Thor.

They’d just finished a show, and I was helping Thor and Rebekka pack everything up for the night. We were already drunk and Ida had wandered off somewhere else, although I didn’t exactly know where. It didn’t matter. We knew she’d be back.

Sure enough, she was by the time Thor and I had finished. She wore a coy smile as she approached us, hands in her pockets.

“We good to go?” she asked me.

“Yup. You’re all set,” I replied. “Are we headed out or getting a drink?”

“I was thinking it might be nice to get a drink,” Ida said. “I was talking with one of the other bands. They mentioned there’s an old Stave Church a few kilometers south of here. They’re headed over, what do you think?”

She grinned widely from ear to ear.

“Hell yes!” Thor said. “Let’s do it!”

Ida nodded, seeming to approve. Rebekka had joined us, and was beginning to crack a smile.

“Count me in,” she said. “Should we bring gas?”

“Yeah, we’ll grab some on the way,” Ida said. “I’ll go get Anja. Then we’ll head out. I’ll drive. I know where it is.”

In minutes, we were headed towards the Church. Thick black forest surrounded it, and I could see the outline ahead of us. It was one of those old Norwegian Stave Churches. They’re a rarity these days, and it’s damn lucky we didn’t burn the lot of them. They are beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but even more beautiful when set alight.

“There’s no one else here,” Rebekka noted as we got closer.

“We’re probably just early,” Ida said dismissively. “I’ll just park. Let’s get this party started!”

She was the first one out, and went straight for the door of the Church. She tried it, and when it didn’t open, she called for a tire iron.

Anja was more than happy to provide one, and we watched as Ida splintered the wood to let us inside.

Thor and I carried the gasoline as we entered the old wooden Church.

“Look at this place…” Ida murmured. “A house of lies.”

She beckoned to me.

“Give me the gas.”

I handed the gas can I carried over to her, and watched as Ida slowly poured the gasoline down onto the floor in a circle around her.

Anja and Rebekka moved past her and towards the altar. They looked up at the figure of Christ on his cross, before reaching up to tear it down.

“Thor!” Anja called, “C’mere… Let’s bless this Savior.”

Thor came running, undoing his pants as he got closer.

“You wanna bless him too?” Rebekka asked. “I’ll even give you bastards something to look at.”

She started to undo her top before pausing.

“Someone’s outside,” Anja said.

“The other band?” I asked, before headed to the door to peek out. There were no signs of another car. No immediate sign that anyone else was there but us… but when I saw them, I swore under my breath.

Seven figures clad in black robes emerged from the forest. They advanced on the Church slowly, and I pulled back inside.

“There’s some weirdos in robes!” I whispered.

Anja and Thor both looked to Rebekka for guidance. The desecrated Cross fell to the ground.

“Hide,” Rebekka said, and we all did as we were told.

I found a spot beside Anja. I saw Thor taking cover behind some of the pews, while Ida hid behind the altar. I didn’t see where Rebekka went.

For a few moments, all was still. Then the robed figures entered the Church, one at a time. They moved in a slow procession towards the altar, before stopping in the aisle.

I saw Thor pressed to the ground, trying to hide under the pew, although he still craned his neck to see what stood over him.

Starting at the front of the line, the hooded figures began to disrobe. The black, formless shapes fell away, and beneath them I saw some of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen in my life.

My breath caught in my throat as they stood in the darkness of the Church, fully naked and exposed.

“Get the boy,” said one of the women in Norwegian. Two of them broke rank and went for Thor. I watched as they dragged him from beneath the pews.

“Wait, hey! Wait! Let me go!” he protested, and tried to struggle. His pants were still partially undone, and I could’ve sworn I saw one of the women tugging them off of him.

It took four women to drag Thor up to the altar. They dropped him in the circle of gasoline that Ida had made, before holding him down.

Thor looked around, panting heavily. The kid was clearly terrified. This was more than he’d signed up for.

“Are your friends here?” asked one of the Women.

“No! I’m alone!” Thor protested.

“Are you?” the Woman replied, and scoffed. She looked at the others around her.

“We’ll begin now,” she said, and we watched as Thor was stripped entirely. The Woman straddled him, rubbing his manhood and guiding him into her. His struggles weakened as he realized what was happening, and from the look on his face, he didn’t seem to be enjoying it.

The Woman on top of him pinned his arms down as the other six women left Thor alone and began to walk in a circle around them. Their movements were rhythmic but stiff. Almost like a strange dance.

Slowly, their voices rose together in Unison in a chant I could not understand.

I couldn’t see Thor anymore, only heard him cry out, before the women switched. Someone else held him down, and the one who’d just raped him took her place in the circle.

“We have to stop this…” Anja whispered to me. I looked at her, and saw a quiet horror on her face. It seemed almost foreign to her.

“Can we?” I asked. “There’s a lot of them… Only five of us.”

“Even enough numbers,” Anja said, and I felt her tensing as she prepared to go. But in the moment before she did, we watched as Ida rose up from behind the altar, her mouth moving in time with the eerie chant and her arms outstretched.

“Sisters…” she crooned as she finished her last stanza of the chant, “Please. Have your fill of the boy. He is yours, as I promised you. Geitefødsel is upon us! Drink him! Eat him!”

The women switched out again. I caught a brief look at Thor, and he looked downright terrified. Anja remained frozen beside me. Neither of us spoke the question on our minds, but it was there all the same.

One after the other, the seven women took their turn with Thor. All the while, their Chant sounded quietly, and we watched in quiet horror. Unable to run and too afraid to charge in.

But once the women were done, things got even stranger.

The Women took a step back, and the gasoline Ida had poured was set alight. In the firelight, the women danced around Thor, who screamed out in terror.

“Rise…” Ida crooned. “Rise, darling, dearest. Rise. Rise. Rise.”

“Rise. Rise. Rise,” the women repeated back and as they did, I heard Thor’s scream turn from terror into agony.

Through the flames, I could see him writhing on the ground. I could see blood pouring out of his mouth and his eyes wide open in pain.

Then came the ripping of flesh. Thor’s screams reached a crescendo before they blacked out entirely… then I saw the shape rising above the dancers. Too large to have been simply birthed from Thor’s corpse, but as far as I could tell, that was exactly what had happened.

It was pitch black, and hard to make out amongst the flames. But what few details I could make out confirmed that it was covered in hair. I could see massive horns jutting out of its skull.

“YES!” Ida shrieked in pure elation, and the Creature looked at her before letting out a goat-like bleat. The dancing women fell to their knees before it, and I was finally granted a look at the Monster in all its terrible glory.

It stood tall, with the head of a goat and the body of a man. Thick black hair covered the Creature from head to toe… and it looked around, surveying the Church.

“No, no, no! OH MY GOD, NO!”

The voice came out of nowhere, and from the shadows in the far corner of the Church, I saw Rebekka moving. She bolted for the door, and the Black Goat set its sights on her.

Letting out an enraged Bleat, it leapt over the dancers and tackled her to the ground. All I heard was the sound of Rebekka’s horrified screams as the Black Goat bit into her skull. Her head was crushed in its massive jaws, and her screaming was cut short.

It was all that Anja and I needed to see. As the Black Goat finished with Rebekka, she bolted, running right for the door and I ran behind her. The Black Goat looked up at us, cocking its head to the side and as we escaped through the door of that Church, I saw Ida grinning at us from the altar.

“The car, get to the car…” Anja murmured. She ran over to where we’d parked it before tugging at the door. It didn’t open.

“No, no, no, no…”

Of course the door was locked… Ida had driven us over. Ida had the keys.

The Black Goat bleated from inside the Church, and we both looked back to see it standing in the doorway.

Anja pressed herself against the car, petrified in fear, and as the Black Goat came for us, lurching forward and bleating, I gave in to my fear and ran.

Anja did not.

I heard her cry out as the Black Goat fell upon her, and listened to the way she screamed as she was torn open. My legs pumped as hard as they could, putting as much distance between me and that monster as was humanly possible.

I don’t think I’d ever run so fast in my life.

I looked back only once, to see if it was following me. All I saw was the Church engulfed in flames behind me, and the shape of the Black Goat against the flames. Far away and not in pursuit, but still watching.

It watched me until I was long gone.

I heard that Ida died in the fire. I don’t know if I believe that. It’s been years since I followed Lust, and since that horrible night. For the longest time, I had no idea what had happened. I didn’t want to know. I just wanted it out of my memory for good.

But you can’t escape the worst things in life.

I won’t tell you where I heard about it. Demonology is a bit of a passion of mine and always has been, more so ever since that night. But until now I’ve never found an explanation for what I’ve seen. Most rituals are fake. Made up either by superstitious folks or dumbasses. But every now and then, you hear about something real.

It has a name in Norwegian, but the translation means ‘Goat’s Birth’ or ‘The Night of the Goat’.

All the records I’ve found say it has never been successfully completed. But the steps match what I saw that night.

On Holy Ground that has been defiled, seven virgins must bed a single man.

That man is then to be set ablaze, and as he burns, something will be summoned from the depths of hell, but it cannot survive the night unless it is properly bound.

In order to be bound, it requires four sacrifices. Body, Mind, Heart and Soul. Once it has received them, it is bound to the Earth. Undying, Unfettered, Unstoppable.

Thor provided the sacrifice of Body when he Birthed that infernal thing. Rebekka’s brain could count as Mind.

Anja was found outside the burnt remains of the Church. Her chest had been torn open and her heart had been consumed.

But what of soul?

What of Soul indeed…

Not a night goes by where I don’t hear the terrible bleating of The Black Goat. I’ve had more nightmares than I can count. I’ve left the Black Metal scene behind, but the marks it has left on me will never go away.

So tell me, what of Soul?

Rating: 9.80/10. From 5 votes.
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🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available


Written by Ryan Peacock
Edited by Craig Groshek
Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek
Narrated by N/A

🔔 More stories from author: Ryan Peacock


Publisher's Notes: N/A

Author's Notes: N/A

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Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).

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