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Tacos De Venado



Estimated reading time — 3 minutes

I was born in Mexico, my father was a goat farmer, and my mother used to weave baskets so that we could have at least two meals per day. We were very poor, and me and my siblings had the misfortune of being born in extreme weather, my oldest brother was born on the coldest day of winter, my elder sister in a spring deluge, and I was born in the thick of summer, and despite the fact that the 80’s had brought advances in the standard of living for the world’s citizens, it seemed to have forgotten us, in our tiny two bedroom cabin. So when my father heard about the H1-B Visa program through my uncle, he eagerly signed up. Every spring, he would go to work as a laborer on a pepper and tobacco farm in Texas. The work was hard, but the pay was good, and he was always home in time for Christmas, so he didn’t complain. He was saving up money so that we could emigrate to the United States, and so he worked from 1988 until 1991, saving what he could. He made sure not a penny was wasted, on the long winter bus ride from the farm to Mexico, he would sleep, so that the hunger pangs would not bother him.

He doesn’t usually talk much about his days as a migrant worker, but he did tell us that one day, in the winter of 1989, I believe, he could not sleep. The bus had made a rest stop near a small taco stand. the tacos smelled wonderful, and everyone on the bus formed a long line towards the taco stand, eager and salivating. The man behind the small dirty counter was very friendly, he said, but there was something that was a little “off” about him. The man scooped out the steaming, spiced meat onto fresh, piping hot, flour tortillas like a machine, taking the money in one hand and serving up a big loaded plate with the other.

“Tacos De Venado!”, His voice rang out. Apparently he was selling venison tacos, or deer meat. “Compren sus delicious’s taquitos de venado!”

My father debated whether or not he should risk spending 2 dollars of his hard earned money. Fortunately my father is quite impatient, and detests long lines, so he went back to the bus, and quickly fell asleep.

The next winter the bus again made a rest stop at the man’s taco stand, and again the passengers formed a long line along with other people, they had become addicted they said, every year they waited impatiently to return to this small, dingy taco stand. My father of course, stayed on the bus. He was used to the feeling of hunger, he lived with it throughout his childhood, he would surely survive. So again, he slept, dreaming of a big bowl of my mother’s chicken soup, with a side of hot corn tortillas (which we could afford by then).

The next spring, he left again, it wasn’t a very good year, the weather was horrible and so the crop yield was low, the farm had no choice but to let the workers go home a month early. My father said that the fellow workers were abuzz with excitement, they didn’t have to eat their tacos in the cold this year! The men eagerly counted the number of miles, their excitement mounting as they drew closer to the rest stop. Three more miles, two more miles, one more mile, until they finally reached the spot where the man had his taco stand.

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But then, nothing. There was no sign of the stand, or the man with his big steel pot of delicious, sweet deer meat. Just and old woman selling papier-mâché frogs and piñatas. The workers demanded to know what had happened to the man with the deer tacos. Had he moved to another location? Did he open up a restaurant? What happened, what?

The old woman raised her hand, and the men fell silent.
“He was arrested just two months ago. A lot of the local farmers and various other men started to go missing in his village, and the police were completely dumbfounded. A small rumor was going around that the local butcher, or the taco man as you know him, could be involved. The police had no other leads and so decided to follow up on that. What they saw shook them beyond beli-” she was cut off by a man asking, “And so what about the deer tacos? When he gets out of jail will he start making and selling them again?”

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The old woman chuckled and said,
“Oh he won’t be leaving his cell for a long time, boys. You see, he wasn’t very well liked in his village, and venado was a nickname that he used to refer to his enemies.”


Credited to Lola.

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137 thoughts on “Tacos De Venado”

  1. I gave it 9/10 simply because of the poor father’s struggle to fight hunger with sleeping… I find it much creepier for people to have to do so out of poverty than the horror of the story itself

  2. I actually know a story that’s almost just like this one that happened to my grandmother and her coworkers only instead of humans they were eating dogs. The guy who sold it wasn’t caught till all the wild strays nearly disappeared

  3. Very very predictable. Followed the equation of every cannibalism story ever. If, in a story, a food place sells exceptional, addictively delicious food, it’s most likely human meat or something else you wouldn’t want to be eating, such as embryo.

    That said, predictability aside this was a very well prepared pasta. Also I like it in the sense that the reveal is not the main character being like “Oh noes I’ve been eating humans, I’m a cannibal!”. Those get old.

  4. I still like the version where the cop finds out he was eating hobo hamburgers

    No offense, your story is great, but come on, hobo hamburgers beat tacos hands down

  5. GAAAAHHH.

    I have stayed up all night and I am reading creepypasta. During the night I ate ice cream and popcorn. I just ate cinnamon toast. NOW I AM EXTREMELY HUNGRY, THANK YOU.

    I’m also surprised at myself. When I read the ending I thought “lolstereotypicaltwist”, not even “SWEENEY TODD OMG MY TIM BURTON FANDOM PAYS OFF”, or “…Hannibal?”. And that’s surprising. I’m reading that book right now. D:

  6. “The bus had made a rest stop near a small taco stand. the tacos smelled wonderful, and everyone on the bus formed a long line towards the taco stand, eager and salivating”

    i lold because i thought that was supposed to be racist

  7. Refound old pasta.

    Tacos… taquitos…

    Little tacos?
    Literal translation,”Buy your delicious little venison tacos”.

    HAZ LO! Buy them NAOW.

    Jk, jk

  8. The scariest cannibals are the real ones, like that German fellow, his name has slipped my mind. He found a man on the Internet, brought him to his home, performed painful sexual acts upon him; for example he cut off his penis and fried it, then left the man to bleed out. Then he butchered him and ate half of him before the police found him. The Internet is an amazing thing, isn’t it?

    Fear the Darkness

    -Nex

  9. Mistaken cannibalism is probably the oldest creepypasta there is. Srsly. Well-written, but anytime there’s mystery meat, it turns out to be human. I can only assume that it must mean that most of the people alive today are ancestors of the tribes which didn’t eat people.

  10. POR QUE, QUIEN ES HOMBRE DEL TACO?!

    Ha ha. that was fun. This pasta however was not. A bunch of migrant workers being tricked into eating people? Would’ve been one thing if the dad had gone to the stand and somehow found out from the dude and didn’t say anything.

  11. 1 saw it coming

    2 i never found the idea of having eaten people scary/creepy

    3 reminds me of an episode of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia

    4 I WANT TO TRY VENISON TACOS REALLY, REALLY FUCKING BAD

  12. Soo… Who was The Demon Butcher of Tacostand? Sweeney Tacomexicanman! (the Superbarber of taquitoland!)
    Only Sweeney made pies. Not tacos. Haha. That would be hilarious. Sweeney making tacos.

    How can you be taken seriously when you’re talking about tacos? Or burridos? Or even pie? I’m sorry, the whole food-made-out-of-people-thing doesn’t really work though. If you wrote this down and taped it to a pole somewhere near the border, though, I bet no one would eat anything with meat in it. Great pasta none the less.

  13. This actually just makes me curious as to what human would taste like. Would it be gamy? Tough? What portion of human would be like, filet mignon quality?

    Damn, if someone offered me a prime cut of human, I’d totally have to taste a bite now.

  14. If this were scratched into a dust pile or spray painted on a wall in an open air sewer it would be believable. The single flaw was that it was posted on a computer.
    All that aside though it was pretty good, I was hoping for more Spanish though…
    Odd that they would be so addicted to the human meat though…

  15. GENTLEMEN!

    I’m sure we all remember Scary Stories to Tell In the Dark?

    This is the Mexican version of the one about the guy making sausages out of people!

    YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

  16. a good read…
    however it was predictable, and I wasn’t really scared by the whole “haha you’re a cannibal and you didn’t even know it!!” thing
    just curious, is that something that actually happened to the author? The backstory was written as if it was in the author’s past.
    if it is and the author mentioned it, that would add a good scare factor to it

  17. As soon as you wrote “scooped out the steaming, spiced meat” I knew it was human flesh.

    But no creep factor whatsoever. Well written though. Remove the backstory of a migrant worker and you are left with “yummy tacos” “yummy tacos” “no tacos” “cannibal”.

  18. Very well written. The context provided at the beginning added a level of authenticity to the whole story. I loved the way you portrayed the hungry workers, eager to eat those tacos.

  19. Saw it coming a mile away. It was well written, but a few details seemed a little off. Just because the tacos are people, they have to be terribly addicting? Everyone who writes about cannabilism acts like people would be the most delicious thing in the world, for some reason.

  20. I saw it coming from the title alone…
    But the background on the narrator really struck home. I like it.

  21. yet another proof I’ve been desensitized by the internet: I knew he was serving up “that” meat when I read about the apparently overly tasty meat, but this didn’t make me put on a disgusted face at all.

  22. this is totally random but i’d prefer papier-mâché frogs and piñatas over evil tacos, even if they were just deer tacos and not people. I don’t eat deer.

    the pasta was o.k

  23. Yeah, as soon as it was the “off” man selling fresh meat and tacos, it had to be a person or a bunch of people
    But still, a decent read, just too obvious

  24. I was thinking that the tacos would be a little more dramatic, especially since everyone was so excited over them. Like, I do not know, they would have brainwashing drugs in them or something.
    The noodles were bland, needs more zing in the sauce.

    I want tacos now.

  25. Sadly it was sort of obvious that it was people meat from quite early on, because 1. it’s a creepypasta and 2. who the hell puts venison in tacos and then sells them to labourers for $2?

  26. more like a rewrite than anything,but,i like this version muc hbetter then the one about the butcher who grinds people int ochilli or hwatever

  27. I may not know Spanish, but a little bit into the story, it clicked and I pretty much knew what was going to happen and it wasnt all that creepy, I dont think it was long enough to build up that ambiance. Well written though, so kudos on that to the author.

  28. This was a nice take on a hackneyed pasta-type. It was a little obvious where this was going, but it was well-written.

  29. Saw it coming a mile away but still made me happy. ^^ Love that the father didn’t eat any either. Nice.

  30. Yes, saw it coming, too, though I just thought it was random people not his enemies. It wasn’t creepy, but more well-written than most.

  31. So they ate people for many years, and apparently it tasted great. Nasty, but I don’t get the shiver I do from most of these stories. Cannibalism is only really creepy if we get to see the victims at some point in the story. ;)

    (I also never understood why the guy in the albatross stew riddle shot himself.)

  32. That was an interesting story, wasn’t very creepy, but I do like how you didn’t say right out at the end, and let the reader figure our for themselves.

    1. I called it pretty much as soon as he said Venison…especially once the other workers said they were addicted.

  33. Very well written, but you need only read the title to guess the ending. Food with meat in it? It’s gonna be people.

      1. HEY HEY HEY IT'S SLENDY!

        Same here but, I have a strange uneasy feeling after reading this. I know that it isn’t exactly “scary”.

    1. Eh…not right away. I would’ve imagined there being something wrong with the mean, but cannibalism straight up from the title? I wouldn’t have guessed it…unless…

      *RAISINS*

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