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intone 4

i turn on my radio and i hear that the first case of a zombie virus has been discovered.

if only we knew the way it spreads

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17d3ure/i_turn_on_my_radio_and_i_hear_that_the_first_case/

TwoSentenceHorror

bigchungus69419

The mother looked at her newborn child with love and in awe, holding the child with tears in her eyes.

Now that the birthing process was done, all she needed to do was raise it to be healthy so that her real son would finally get the organs he deserves.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17cqhzq/the_mother_looked_at_her_newborn_child_with_love/

TwoSentenceHorror

Prestigious-bish-17

I was banned from the VR world for a post I made

The company still had to honour my brain's millenium life-support subscription

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17dadgy/i_was_banned_from_the_vr_world_for_a_post_i_made/

TwoSentenceHorror

River_Lamprey

“I’ll give you anything you want money, power, sex, just let me out of here.”

But John was wary of the genie’s promises, so he cased the lamp in cement and dropped it in the ocean where it would sit in darkness until the end of time.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17cqduw/ill_give_you_anything_you_want_money_power_sex/

TwoSentenceHorror

Free-Giraffe8160

I looked at the dress the girl wore, which was red with grey patches, then to where the bodice had been torn open by the bullets.

It then occurred to me that the dress might originally have been grey.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17dpej5/i_looked_at_the_dress_the_girl_wore_which_was_red/

TwoSentenceHorror

dilucs_waifu

It's so dark I can't see, and everything's squeezing me so tight it hurts.

My heart leaps when I hear the child shout, "Rattata, I choose you," for no matter how painful the next moment is, at least I'll be free.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17d5bhh/its_so_dark_i_cant_see_and_everythings_squeezing/

TwoSentenceHorror

Casca_In_Red

I sat there with my friend from home, we both wore the gear we were given.

We sat there in silence in the trench we had been calling home, it wasn't long until the screams of battle rang through our ears.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17djysx/i_sat_there_with_my_friend_from_home_we_both_wore/

TwoSentenceHorror

brobrodidfog

Just can't get away from them

Like every good story, there is a beginning and an ending. This roller coaster of a story is still ongoing two years later with no end in sight. It all started when I wanted to further my education and get a bachelor's in information systems. To give a little about myself to help paint the picture I'm 26, 4' 8" female, I get called jailbait often because I look way younger. During the beginning of my studies, my current boyfriend and I had broken up, so I told myself it would be best to stay single until I finished school. I took to the internet after my breakup (as most do) just looking for company. I had found this one group on Facebook where I felt like I belonged. I got along well with everyone, and I loved to flirt in this group. Thats where I met him... let's call him, Kemper. Like many others before him, I had latched my claws into him and began flirting, I even had a little crush on him. Things began innocently, I flirted, and he flirted back in the group. He seemed very mysterious though, I guess that's what drew me to him. He didn't have a profile pic, not of him at least, he never told me his age or what he looked like. After a few weeks of flirting, a woman in the group we were both in had mentioned that it was his birthday. I knew I wanted to do something for him, but I was pretty limited on what I could do. Now, before I get hell for this, just know... I have never sent an unsolicited topless picture to another man, not until that day at least. On the pic, I wrote happy birthday (insert his name) and pressed the send button on messenger. Just that split second decision has changed my life the past two years. It's so easy looking back and thinking what you could have done differently, but there is no going back now. Within a week of talking nonstop to Kemper, he was already telling me he loved me. He was working as a truck driver, but at the time he had broken his knee at work. So, he was out of commission for a few months, which allowed him to talk to me as much as possible. During this time, I was working as a delivery driver with DoorDash, it was easier for me to make my own schedule since I wasn't done with school just yet. The first few months were great, we would talk constantly over the phone and through messenger. Also, let me point out quickly that this was a long-distance relationship between Kemper and myself. So, I remember the first fight we ever had, hell, even before then I could see the red flags slapping me in the face at every turn. However, our first fight was because I was texting HIM while driving. He flipped his lid and totally went crazy on me. It was very unexpected, and it made me cry. I can't tell you how many times I tried to apologize and tell him it wouldn't happen again. After the incident I was blown away how easily something so little (or at least I thought it was little) would make him do a complete 180. Months go by and the fights continue, more frequently. One point, he had mentioned how cool it would be to have an app where we could see each other's location. In my naive and in love state, I did some quick search and found an app called Life 360. We both downloaded the app and now... he could see everywhere I go. At first, it was a neat idea to say the least. To follow him around everywhere he went to feel closer and more connected to him. That's what I used it for, he however, wanted to use it for different reasons. I learned overtime how controlling, manipulative and how damn right psychotic he was. We would argue about things and even when I get mad, he would somehow turn things around on me and make me feel like I'm the bad guy. The first time we broke up, it was a shit show. He had broken up with me on the group we were both in, just because I had flirted with another guy, and he didn't like it. He was telling the other guys in the group how much of a whore I was and how they could have me. He even threatened to give out my address to the guys in the group so they can come to my house and.. well, I'm sure you get the idea. My friend... let's call him Aussie for the sake of the story, he was a member of the group, and he could tell how upset I was in the group comments, and he messaged me personally for the first time. Now, let me tell you... I don't know what it is but seems like I attract *monsters*. Monster is the best way to describe Kemper and Aussie. They are both well-off men with the world at their fingertips. I guess that's part of the controlling bits or showing aggression when they don't get their way about things. Before I go into more detail about Aussie, I just want to recount a few incidents with Kemper to give the readers a better understanding of what kind of man he is, and how dumb I am letting things to continue the way they have. One incident happened months ago, he and I were fighting, seemingly over nothing, and I was driving home from a long day of work and school and Kemper just blurts out 'I wish you would just run off the road and into a ditch and die." I was speechless. The tears welled up in my eyes and the driving became harder because I couldn't see, so, he almost got his wish. I had to stop at the Dollar General in my town to compose myself, I couldn't breathe, I was wheezing, the man I had thought I loved was wishing I would die. If he hated me that much, why is keeping me around? I just wanted to curl into a ball at the moment and just disappear for a while. I didn't want to go home, but I couldn't just stay parked at Dollar General, I was really at a loss for what to do. It wasn't until a while later where I told my mom and dad what he said. They were already getting their pitch forks ready wanting to re-enact the Salem witch trials because of him, and ever since then... they haven't liked him. Another incident, he and I were talking about meeting, and he told me that we would need the 'Menopause act' in place. Yeah, he made that up, but basically, he doesn't want to have sex in the off chance we get pregnant. He told me if I ever did get pregnant, he would make me have a maternity test to see if it's his and then he would make me abort the child. He doesn't want kids, but I do, so of course I was really upset, and he made me cry, yet again. Making me cry is a common occurrence with him over the last 2 years. One night another fight breaks out, and he loves to drink beer. He loves to hurt me even more by saying beer is his best friend and beer would never disappoint him like I do. During this late-night phone call, he was extremely drunk, and he was threatening to kill himself. I just couldn't take the arguing, so I bid him a good evening and let that be that and I hung up on him. I received a large number of texts saying all sorts of things, but one really stood out. He wrote 'If I kill myself tonight, it'll be because you made me do it.' I didn't see these until the next morning, but you can imagine how panicked I was. My heart just sank and of course, tears. He's good at making me feel like crap, good at manipulating, lying, controlling. It's just all becoming way too much, it's really more than anyone should deal with no matter how much you love someone. The next day, I begged him to get help for his drinking, his depression, his suicidal behavior, but he just refuses. Being so far away, there's only so much I can do. Kemper has anger issues along with so many other issues as well, I know I'm not perfect but at least I don't act like he does. I'm very friendly and I get along with almost everyone, I guess that's part of his problem with me. We are complete opposites when it comes to that. During our time together, I had gotten two other jobs at different times besides the DoorDash gig, just part time though.. notice I said HAD gotten two jobs? Well, the first one was at Walgreens, the VERY FIRST DAY on the job, I was doing certifications for the job, and during the whole time, he was blowing up my phone, telling me I don't need another job, or telling me that I won't have time for him, or that he would need to find someone else to replace the time I had spent with him while also keeping me around. I just couldn't take it, so I quit. Fast forward a few months later, I get another job, this one was at Dollar General just at the town over. I did work there more than a day, but his bitching and nagging ultimately made me quit that job as well. I just recently had a talk with him about graduating soon and how I will find a job at a hospital working normal hours with better pay. Well, he didn't like that too much. He found some reason to be mad at me and start a fight, and he has gotten in the habit of ignoring me for a day or two. He's even ignored me for a whole week, and honestly, that was the most peace I had gotten in a long time. Things have just drastically gone downhill and quick! He tells me all the time now how he doesn't trust me because I 'wanted to go on a date' with a cop. This was some guy I had met at the gas station down from where I lived and gave him my snapchat. He seemed nice, and I was curious what kind of pics he would post on snapchat or send me. When the cop sent a pic dick, that's when he was blocked, and yes, I told Kemper about this. This incident with the cop had happened on one of the many times Kemper and I have broken up. I do respect him (as weird as that is to say), I would never go on another date with another man or flirt with another guy, I'm very friendly and I guess some guys takes that the wrong way. Now, Kemper tells me all the time I need to build trust because the incident with the cop has caused him to have trust issues. I even had a work colleague (yes a guy) that works at a Mexican restaurant offer free food and boy do I love me some Mexican food! I see this guy quite frequently and talk to him when I see him because I pick up door dash orders from where he works. This guy has asked me out quite often, but I turn him down every time. So, he asked me if I would like free Mexican food and we could just hang out at the restaurant and eat and talk as friends. I guess I really am naive because I learned later on this guy had a crush on me.. How did I find out he had a crush on me you ask? Well, I was talking to him one day, maybe about a week after he offered me free food and just to hang, and he began to get extremely close to me and he kissed me on the lips. AT THE RESTARAUNT. WHERE CUSTOMERS WERE SITTING AROUND EATING! I jerked my head back and told him how inappropriate that was and reminded him that I did in fact have a boyfriend, which he knew from the very beginning. I just don't understand men. I know how bad it seems, and you're probably thinking that Kemper has every right to have trust issues. But I respect him in every way possible, and every time and certain situation like this happens, I handle it the best way I know how. I didn't want to make a scene when the waiter at the Mexican restaurant kissed me (I guess I'm too nice for my own good). Now, in each fight Kemper and I have, he always tells me how much of a whore I am, or ask if I do OnlyFans, he even told me the reason why I deleted Life 360 (the tracking app) is because I'm going off at night with other men and 'eating their buttholes' his words, not mine. But no, the reason why I deleted the Life 360 app is because I needed to gain some of the control back and some of my privacy back. As of right now, Kemper and I will have the chance to meet this coming January 2023, although, I'm really not sure about it. Two years of ups and downs and him having my heart and ripping out when it's convenient for him has me thinking it may not be the best idea. Also, it may be the fact that he has told me of his violent past with an ex-girlfriend of his. This happened many years ago, but it scares me knowing he can be this violent. What had happened was, his girlfriend at the time was putting on makeup (he hates makeup) and they got into an altercation with him blacking out and him pinning her down to the bed and choking her. He didn't even realize what he was doing until he came to. He's told me lately that if he ever caught me in his bed with another man, he would punch me in the face, not the guy simply because the man didn't know better, and I did. I've spent a lot of time and effort into this relationship and wanting it to work out in the end, but honestly, not sure if meeting would be the best thing to do... now or ever... So, let's talk about Aussie... he's a tad bit older than me, he's 49 years old while Kemper is 48 years old. You would think they would be mature for their age. Well, Aussie is very mature, Kemper.. not so much. Aussie and I began talking the first time Kemper and I had broken up. He was being a concerned friend and messaged me asking me what was going on. I spilled everything to him, he was like a best friend I didn't know I had. He was so easy to talk to and he even began opening up to me about his troubled up bringing. We would talk about everything and things began to escalate into a more sexual topic. He would tell me about his dark fantasies, which at one point I would have shared with him, but not so much anymore. I'm more vanilla now days when it comes to stuff like that. After a month or so of talking, he too would begin to tell me he loved me.. but only as a friend. I knew better than that, and it made me uncomfortable knowing that someone I've only had a hand full of conversations with which mostly consisted of sex talk, would tell me he loved me. Majority of the time we would just exchange GIF's with a few voice clips shared between us. Overtime I felt bad for talking to this man but he was a comfort when Kemper and I had broken up. But our conversations went from semi-normal just to weird. Let me mention real quick, just like Kemper, he too didn't have a profile pic, but he would post pictures of himself on the group. Si knew what he looked like, and he was a very handsome man. After a while of talking to him, he would send me some other pictures which seemed to be newer pictures which looked nothing like the pictures he had posted in the group. I didn't make a fuss out of it, just assumed the pictures in the group were older pictures. One day he had told me he was getting a haircut; I was trying to be polite and asked for a picture to see the new haircut. Days later he finally sent me that picture, I wasn't sure who this person in the picture was. It looked absolutely nothing like the previous pictures he had sent. At the moment, I assumed I was being catfished, but it didn't matter to me because looks really don't matter. A lot of the messages I receive from him is how he wants to 'breed me' he refers to himself as Mr. Wolf and tells me all the time how he wants to marry me and steal me away from Kemper and get me pregnant. He talks all the time about how we would make a beautiful child and how he's very well off so he would be able to have more children and how much of a great life we would have. He even goes out of his way to find GIF's and pictures of naked pregnant women being forced into brutal things. Things tend to get even darker at times... he has told me that he wants to have his way with me in front of Kemper while he's tied to a chair and then have his way with Kemper next. Onetime, he was talking about some women in the Facebook group we were in and just women in general who would cheat on their husband and flirt with other men behind their husband back, he would say how these women need to be taken care of (not the exact word he used) but I hope you get where I'm going with that. He tells me all the time how he knows high end people, how he's good friends with the Govenor and that he can find any kind of information about someone if he needs to. It's truly scary to say the least if this is all true, and my gut feeling is telling me that it is, just one of the many reasons I began distancing myself from him. He's in the process of having a lawsuit settled, in which he would gain a large amount of money from it, which he really doesn't need. One day he began sending me pictures of this piece of property with a large multi-million-dollar home on with a cellar, he would tell me how he could convert the cellar into a dungeon and keep me there as his play toy. The more I write about things, the more I'm getting a better idea of how dangerous things can possibly be if I ever met either Kemper or Aussie. Aussie tells me all the time about his lawsuit and when it should be finished and tells me he would love to take my mom and myself to dinner. I talk about my mom quite often to him because she plays a big part in my life, and I love her more than anything. So, I live in the South by the gulf, and Aussie has friends over in this area. He wants to meet a few of his Facebook friends that live in this area and had asked me to join him for a few weeks of traveling to meet some of his friends with him, that is after his lawsuit is settled. That's a big nope from me. I barely even know him, much less his Facebook friends. So, this is my story so far, not sure how things will turn out but as of right now, let's not meet. Kemper and Aussie both scare me in ways I can't explain. I do love Kemper with all my heart, but he has a lot of issues he needs to work on before I ever consider meeting him, so it may never happen. I'm really hoping once I get a job working at a hospital that I will be able to find someone normal to date and spend the rest of my life with. Kemper tells me sometimes I need to move on because he'll never change and I'm beginning to believe it. At the moment, I feel like things with Kemper will never go any further than how they are. It's hard though to get away from them, especially Kemper. He knows my address, phone number, e-mail addresses, he can even make multiple Facebook accounts to send me messages. Even one time I had blocked Kemper on everything, he found a way to send me a message from an unknown number asking me to unblock him so we can talk. I have other stories I can tell you about men I never want to meet again, but this story is the one that has the most effect on my mental health.

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/zpugvc/just_cant_get_away_from_them/

LetsNotMeet

BlondieBee96

Chased by a Uber driver

I was coming home from taking a train for a work trip and it was 11 ( I would usually travel the next day but had to be home early for a family thing ) the train station where I lived at the time was outside and had no security what so ever so granted I already was a little bit on edge. After waiting 20 minutes for a Uber all alone I was relieved to see my Uber driver. He had an accent and was from a middle eastern country and the first thing he asked was if I was too , but I often get mistaken for being different nationalities so it felt normal . I politely said no and at first everything was normal we made small talk since the drive was long, but then he started making odd comments saying I was beautiful asking if I had an American boyfriend and if my parents wanted me married. I dodged his questions but then as we were 5 minutes away from my apartment he asked if I was doing anything that night ( it was a Friday ) I said no and I didn’t plan on it . He then asked if I lived alone, I do but I was getting scared so I said that I had 3 roommates and they were expecting me that seemed to make him stop and he remained silent the whole ride. I then get notified I had a package unfortunately my apartment would charge if you didn’t retrieve the packages after a certain time frame. As soon as we reach my apartment I get out and use my keycard to go to the package room which was in a separate room from my apartment entrance. I look outside and he’s still parked out front looking around. The way the apartment works is that you have to go outside to go to the actual entrances, one entrance has stairs the other with the elevator was in the parking garage. I take a deep breath holding my package and start to run he gets out and starts to run chasing me. Using my keycard I make it to the stairs entrance and slam the door and run up the stairs. As I get into my room I looked out my window and saw him still outside his car. Being on the 3 floor my lights were on and he looked right at my window he stayed parked the whole night and then eventually drove away. I reported him on Uber and was extremely cautious the whole week but I still don’t know what he was planning to do and am grateful my parents made me do running as a kid. So creepy Uber driver let’s never meet again .

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/zpeqqn/chased_by_a_uber_driver/

LetsNotMeet

Embarrassed_Sky475

My girlfriend and I might be being stalked

Hey Reddit, I’m a long time user but due to the nature of this situation I decided to use a throwaway. Trigger warning for baby death, abuse, stalking, etc. Also apologies if this isn’t the right sub, we just need answers. My girlfriend’s mother is a long time heroin user and has been in and out of jail for my girlfriend’s whole life. When she lived with her mother and her mother’s husband, she witnessed physical abuse and drug activity. She was forced to move out at a very young age in order to stay alive. She thought her mother was finally clean when her mother announced her pregnancy. After getting over the initial shock, my girlfriend decided to be supportive of her mother since she thought she was clean. That was until her mother overdosed while pregnant. She decided to cut all contact at that point. My girlfriend is also a mandated reporter and last year reported her mother and her mother’s husband to the state since she knew it wasn’t a safe situation for the baby. The baby died in their house not even a month after birth due to an overdose with signs of physical abuse. My girlfriend’s mother was arrested for the murder of her baby and other charges her husband was arrested for child endangerment and other charges very recently. At first, the judge did not grant either of them bail. Eventually her husband was granted bail in which he posted. We did not know this until recently, which helped us put some of the pieces together. My girlfriend and I like to sit outside her house in the car and just chat or listen to music. Recently, there have been black cars around my girlfriend’s house. She also is frequently followed by black cars when she drives me home. It’s the same couple of black cars that do this, they’re not just random ones. At first we thought we were just paranoid since everyone was still in jail, but when we found out that the husband was out of jail we began to doubt our insanity. The first major thing happened after my girlfriend and I went on a dinner date. We got home after dark and sat in her car for about 45 minutes before we noticed the same black car passing by us every few minutes. After 10 minutes of that, a different car drove towards us, flicking its high beams on when it got close enough for us to see who was inside. It swerved into the oncoming lane and I genuinely thought it was going to hit the passenger side of the car. It sped away and we ran inside. After that we started noticing the black cars more and more. This past Wednesday morning, around 3am-ish, the same distinct black van that we had been seeing pulled up outside of my house. This was weird because my gf and I live about 30 minutes from each other in two separate cities. A man got out of the van and shined a flashlight through my yard, scanning it almost. He shined the flashlight up at the window I was sitting at, kept it there for a second, then walked 30 feet to an empty driveway, scanned around there for 20 seconds before getting in the van and peeling away. The windows were ice covered and frozen so I couldn’t make out the specifics of the van but it was strange. A few nights later my girlfriend and I spent some time hanging out in the car when we spotted a black van “hiding” behind another parked car further up the street. We could only see one headlight, but it creeped by us as we sat in the car. My girlfriend lives between two dead-end streets, think of a very blocky U, she loves between the two prongs. The van went up the first dead end, 4-ways on, and sat for a few minutes before turning around and driving almost into the other lane of traffic to get close to us. It then went up the other dead end and stayed put. We thought it was weird that the van didn’t just back out of the first dead end, instead opting to drive all the way up the narrow street and turn around. After a few minutes we call a friend and recount the story just to get an extra opinion. While my girlfriend was talking to our friend, I got out of the car to go for a cigarette and to see how far away the van was. I walked up the dead-end that the van was on for about 15 feet before getting the worst gut feeling I’ve ever gotten. Across the street from me was a black mass, which was darker than the darkness around it. I decided to just turn around and rush my girlfriend into the house. Later that night we heard a bang coming from downstairs, followed by what sounded like a boot on wooden stairs. We locked the bedroom door and I sat against the door with a baseball bat, hopeful to barricade it. A few minutes later we heard a car door slam before the sound of tires squeezing and a car driving away. Our initial idea was maybe it came from the TV, but we had paused it and the TV in the next room is never loud enough to feel “real.” When I went downstairs an hour later to get water there was nothing damaged or missing. We theorized that maybe it was the sound of the front door trying to be opened even though it was deadbolted. My girlfriend’s exterior wall doesn’t face the road and we’ve never heard car sounds before. It is, however, next to a private driveway, and sometimes we’ll hear her grandparents car door close or the neighbors backing out. The next day I was shoveling the sidewalks at my girlfriend's house (an activity that took about 20 minutes) and I saw the same black Chevy Silverado with mud streaks on the tailgate. It circled the block about four times. I was able to see the silhouette of the man driving through the passenger side window, and each time it was the same man and same truck. My girlfriend lives in a small town and we were able to catalog the neighborhood cars. The black van and truck are abnormal. Our theory is that someone is trying to scare my girlfriend into not testifying, or flat out making sure neither of us ever have the ability to testify. We really just need more opinions. Are we just paranoid or is this something we should actually be worried about? Do you think these are just weird coincidences?

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/zo09dw/my_girlfriend_and_i_might_be_being_stalked/

LetsNotMeet

blackcarthrowaway

Housesitting last spring

Friends went to Mexico for a vacation and asked me to house-sit and take care of their dogs while they were gone. They pay me $40 a day just to sit around and let the dogs out when they need to go. I am disabled so that helps a lot. This os a semi-rural area and houses are roughly a quarter mile apart. Police have to come from town, 15 miles away, and response time can be well over an hour. I always take my pistol with me. It’s always been quiet when I’ve stayed there. This time was different. I was in the shower when the dogs started barking and growling. They are big, large German Shepherds and one is actually police-trained - the owners loan him to county as a drug dog, and if you tell them to be quiet they obey. This time they didn’t, so I went on high alert. I shut off the water and looked out the window. I didn’t see anything, but when I walked out of the bathroom I saw a shadow go across the bedroom window (they have lights around the house that stay on all night.) I whispered to the dogs to hush and they did. That’s when I heard a man’s voice. I couldn’t make out everything he was saying but I distinctly heard two words: “Come around.” So I am sure there was more than one person. I ran into the living room with my pistol and saw the door handle turn. I yelled, “I HAVE A GUN AND I **WILL** FUCKING USE IT!” I heard feet run away. I was telling Siri to dial 911 and got the county sheriff fast. She said there were two cars on another call not far away but it would take about 20 minutes for them to get there. That’s better than the usual hour, but I was pretty shaken. I explained that I was on a farm and would have to go down to the road and unlock a cattle gate to let them in, and to please tell the officers that I would be carrying a pistol and please don’t shoot me by mistake because i was not going outside the house without it. The dispatcher said, “Oh, no, do not go out there without your gun! I will tell them!” The one good thing about living in a Red State!) She asked if I could see the road and I can, so she said to wait in the house until I saw blue lights. I hung up and called my friends in Mexico. Their camera footage can be downloaded via app, and they said they would go through it while I waitrd for the cops. I locked the house and went down to the gate when the police arrived. They searched the whole place, including the barn, but didn’t find anyone. While they were looking my friends texted me the camera footage. There was a man on the porch. Unfortunately the cameras were not angled to get a shot of his face, and it was of course dark. I still think there was more than one creep because of what he said - come round. The police were very nice and said they HAD passed a man on a bike on the way, which is strange for this area, especially at night, and went to look for him, but that’s all they could do. They took a full report but never caught the creep. My husband came and stayed with me the rest of their trip. One of their neighbors said he found a tent and some gear in the woods a few weeks before, so somebody was living back there. Maybe a homeless person from town. I have house-sat again since then and it was quiet. They are going away again for Christmas and I will be there again. A lot of people ask me if I would have shot the creep had he broken in. Yeah - absolutely. I would be sorry I had to hurt somebody, but if it’s them or me - yeah. Creepy Porch Guy, let’s not ever meet again.

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/zngiey/housesitting_last_spring/

LetsNotMeet

Salty_Thing3144

Rather be called rude than be molested

This happened when I was in college.  There was a building near my college which rent out rooms for students and I lived there instead of in my college hostel. There was hospital within walking distance from my building. There was this small diner run by a mother daughter and son-in-law. I hated that place and I would never go there alone. But my friend, Amy, loved it . The food was okay but son-in-law, Philip, was a creepy guy. I couldn't eat my food in peace as he would come and stand near me and start scolding me for not eating much. Its always " why can't you eat more? Look at this girl,  she's so thin. What's wrong with you?" I would look at him angrily but that didn't stop him from doing it again and again. Amy would tell me to let it go and that he meant it in a fatherly way. But I  should've said something back and ignore my friend's take on the situation. One day the daughter, Susan, came up to our table and asked me which room was mine and I asked her why she wanted to know. She just smiled and left. Again Amy told me that I was rude to such a nice woman. I didn't think so but I felt it was pointless to argue with her and so I left it at that. One day around 7 or 8 pm there was a soft knock on my door and only at mine. It was on a Friday and my building was mostly empty as some had gone home while others were out shopping and hadn't returned. So I didn't open the door. The knocking continued for maybe 5 more minutes but I just ignored it. Monday afternoon at lunch the Susan came up to us and said her mother had a heart attack and she was so afraid that she came to our building and  knocked on our doors but no one opened.  She was looking at me when she said this. In the end they took her to the hospital across the street. We were all students but not in medical field. There were 2 more buildings near us that had medical residents who also had lunch and dinner in this diner but she came only to our building.  Days later while having lunch with a Amy, Philip came and started shouting at me. But this time I had enough. The knocking had unnerved me and I yelled back at him. I told him that I'll eat whatever I want with my money. Who was he to say otherwise. He looked shocked as was my friend.  But that was the last time he bothered me. Amy, as always, called me a rude spoiled brat for bringing up money and yelling. But I couldn't care less what they thought. I knew they were targeting me. They knocked only at my door. Had I opened the door, it would have ended badly for me. My reluctance to make a "scene" led to this incident. I did go back for lunch but he didn't come up to my table. Susan came, took our orders and left. I realize now that his yelling and scolding were his way of assessing me or grooming me. Should've talked back at the beginning but placed my friend's opinion before my gut instinct.

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/zn1t6t/rather_be_called_rude_than_be_molested/

LetsNotMeet

Narrow_Conference_12

My stalker still hasn't given up. It's been over a month since this nightmare first started.

If you haven't already, read my last [post](https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/z8dx6d/i_waved_back_at_a_man_now_i_think_he_wants_to/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android_app&utm_name=androidcss&utm_term=2&utm_content=share_button). It has some relevant information to this scenario. The man who has been watching me as I come home from school has started walking back and forth to and from the sidewalk in front of my house again. He has done this three times since my last post and every time I've seen it I've been home alone. I've called my mother to let her know every time he's been around and we have contacted the police to tell them that he keeps coming by our house but they haven't been able to do anything except record it since he's never actually stepped foot on our property until recently. Starting this week I started noticing tapping and scratching sounds from downstairs starting as soon as it becomes dark. It's been worrying me a great deal but I've been too scared to look outside until recently because my dogs weren't barking and they always do if someone strange is outside. When I finally got the courage to look out I saw a person hunched over a few feet away from the entrance to our house. I couldn't see any of their facial features because they were wearing a large hoodie and keeping their face down. It looked like they were scraping something across the siding of our house. Immediately I dialed the police and hid somewhere in case they wanted to break in. As soon as the police arrived though, the person ran off and was not pursued. I spoke with the police when they started to check things out but again, nothing could be done as there wasn't any proof that anything had even happened at all besides them seeing him run off. They said they'd be keeping an eye on it in the future but at the very most it was only trespassing. I brought up the fact that I was attacked not long ago by some strange man and that I thought they were the same person but I was once again brushed off. The police said it was possible but without any actual evidence that they were the same person nothing could be done since I couldn't accurately recognize the person outside my window and I also wasn't seriously hurt. I don't know what kind of "evidence" is needed to do something about someone stalking a minor who is home alone but apparently, I didn't have it. This morning a small brown package was left on the doorstep and in it were pieces of electronic parts that I did not recognize and plastic shards with the crumpled newspaper at the bottom and a note that said "SORRY" with a frowny face at the top. My mother notified the police and again, they said they'd just keep an eye out for anything suspicious. I feel like they're not doing anything and that they won't do anything until I'm seriously hurt or worse. I took some advice from some previous comments and now I keep glitter spray with me when I walk home from school along with my screwdriver and a knife in my room just in case someone breaks in but I can't do anything else and I'm not confident at all that I could win a fight against a fully grown man. I'm worried about what will happen in the future and I don't even feel safe in my own home, even when the doors are locked I check every possible place someone could be waiting for me before settling down but I don't think it's enough. Any advice is welcome. More than anything, I just want him to leave me alone.

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/zmrbae/my_stalker_still_hasnt_given_up_its_been_over_a/

LetsNotMeet

koauduj0192

I was stalked and nearly kidnapped at 13 years old.

I was always an extremely small and sickly child. I looked young for my age. My family and I lived out of town, about 8 miles out. Our little community was next to a highway. The school bus would drop me off two blocks away from home. One day, I noticed a red truck following slowly behind me. So slow that I figured they were just looking for a house or something. I ignored it and walked to my house. That was the end of that. Consistently, this truck would follow slowly behind me. After a couple days of this, I walked into my house (I was always the first one home) and looked out the window. Inside was an older man and a black lab. He was staring at me, idling inside his truck. Then he pulled away. I decided enough was enough. I told my parents. Of course my sister was quick to jump in that I was lying (I had a habit of telling stories) but my mom thankfully believed me. She drove me to the bus stop the next morning. The red truck was there, across the street at the gas station. Pointing toward the bus. I got on the bus and my mom decided to drive around the truck. She described the scene. The man was disheveled and dirty, hunched over in his seat just staring at the bus. His license plates were caked in mud, so she couldn’t make them out. It freaked her out so much she called the police and the school. I went to school, and was quickly pulled into the office. The man had been spotted at the school, waiting in his truck. That day I rode the bus home. This time, the truck was parked alongside the street. I would have to walk past this man’s driver’s side door to get home. I debated, considering running for it. Apparently this man was getting desperate now that he was spotted. A police car showed up and I talked to the policeman. They went to go talk to the man. He quickly pulled away from the curb and took off down the highway. Never saw him again, and I don’t believe he was ever caught. Because of this experience, I’m extremely guarded and paranoid with my own daughter (and her soon to be sibling). The world is a terrifying place these days and children go missing so easily. I don’t like to think about if I had been grabbed. I wouldn’t be here typing this. My kids wouldn’t exist. I was lucky. Many children aren’t. So, stranger with ill intentions, let’s not meet.

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/zmof8i/i_was_stalked_and_nearly_kidnapped_at_13_years_old/

LetsNotMeet

MissaSissa

I was almost cooked alive.

When I was 10, my parents and I went to visit my grandmother for spring break. My cousin also came to visit and we decided we wanted to go to the YMCA for the day. My grandmother dropped us off and said she would come and pick us up in four hours. On that day the YMCA was empty, there were a couple of adults in the exercise room but that’s it. We went to the basketball court and after two hours of playing tag and shooting baskets, we were bored. I've never been the biggest fan of swimming but, this YMCA had a pretty cool pool so we changed into our bathing suits and headed in there. The pool was empty except for the lifeguard. We played a bunch of games and swam laps but after about an hour, there wasn’t much left to do and there was no one except us to hang out with to keep things interesting. So, we decided to play a game of seeing how long we could hold our breath underwater. We stood in the shallow end near the clock on the wall so we could time ourselves. Instead of fully submerging, we just stuck our heads face down in the water. We did this a couple of times and I was winning. On our last round, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I figured it was my cousin giving up and telling me that I won. But instead, it was the lifeguard who told me to knock it off or she was going to have to ask us to leave the pool. Since we were tired of being in the pool we figured we would get out, get dressed, and go back to the basketball court until my grandmother picked us up. We only had an hour left anyways and the water was freezing. As we got out the lifeguard stopped us and asked if we wanted to go into the sauna to warm up and dry off. The sign said 18 years or older, so of course, we were super excited that she allowed us to do that. She walked us to the sauna and unlocked the door. The door was glass and the interior was made entirely out of wood. Inside, above the door, there was a clock, probably to help make sure you were not in there for an unsafe amount of time. The lifeguard stand was adjacent to the sauna but if you looked out the door you could clearly see it. She followed us in and went over to the thermometer encased in plastic and unlocked it so she could crank up the heat. I figured that she must have to turn it on each time so I didn’t think anything of it. Both my cousin and I were very short girls and so we couldn't see the temperature that was printed on the thermometer knob but I know she was turning up the heat. Then she left and shut the door behind her. I thought I saw her lock the door too, but I thought to myself, why would she lock the door when we might want to get out? I checked the clock and decided we should get out in 10 or 15 minutes. It was already plenty warm in the sauna but now the room was blazing. It felt nice because I was so cold from the pool. After about 15 minutes it was starting to get a little bit too hot and my cousin agreed that we should leave so we can get dressed. I went to turn the knob on the door but it wasn’t budging. I thought maybe it was jammed so I shook it but it still wasn’t opening and then I let my cousin try. She couldn’t get it open either. We figured the lifeguard would be back in a couple of minutes so we sat back down and waited. The room was getting hotter now too and I really wanted to leave. I got up and started banging on the door and shaking/twisting the knob trying to get the lifeguard's attention. My cousin got up and joined me. We started screaming at the top of our lungs for her to let us out but she just stared straight ahead. I don’t think there’s any way that she couldn’t have noticed or heard two little girls banging and kicking the door and screaming. Now we had been in there for about 25 minutes. It was so hot in the sauna that it hurt to breathe, it felt like my lungs were on fire. My eyes and skin were burning. We sat back down and put our towels over our heads because they were still a little damp and it made it easier to breathe. I was so worried about my cousin as she is a couple of years younger than me. I looked at the clock and saw that we had been there for 35 minutes. I got up and walked to the door again and saw the lifeguard still just staring straight ahead. Again, I tried to get her attention by screaming that we needed out and banging on the door as hard as I could, but still nothing. I was starting to get pretty dizzy so I went to go sit back down but the wooden seats of the sauna burned my skin. My towel was completely dry so I put it underneath me to sit on. My hair was also dry but I wrapped it across my face to cover my nose and I squinted my eyes so that they didn’t burn as bad but I could still watch if anyone walked past the door. It helped a little bit. My cousin was laying face down with the towel over her head not moving or saying anything so I nudged her to make sure that she was still okay. She was, but I could tell that we really needed to get out of there soon because she seemed a bit disoriented. It had been 45 minutes now and I was extremely nauseous. There was no way that the lifeguard would forget that we were in there and I thought she would have to come back soon but there was this little voice in my head telling me that maybe she purposely locked us in there. Finally, a man walked past the door towards the pool but for some reason, I just couldn’t get up. My whole body was on fire and I felt so dizzy. Luckily this man wasn’t going to the pool, he wanted to be let into the sauna and came back with a lifeguard. I saw them walking this way and immediately jumped up to grab my cousin. I knew now that for sure she had locked us in there because she pulled out her keys to unlock the door and let the man in. I didn’t want to take any chances of us being trapped in there any longer so as the man was trying to walk in, I was trying to shove our way out. As we were going out the lifeguard started trying to shut the door and push us back with it. The man was clearly confused about what was going on and said "Um I think they want out". The lifeguard let out a sigh and opened the door fully and we ran away as fast as we could into the changing room. We only had about ten minutes before a grandmother was supposed to pick us up. We were both so shaken by what just happened that we didn’t say anything to each other as we got dressed or on the car ride home. When we got back to the house, my parents were making us dinner and I told them the story of what just happened. They thought that I must’ve been exaggerating and they didn’t believe me. I truly think that that woman was going to let us cook alive in there. The only bit of doubt that I have is what would’ve happened if we actually died. She obviously would’ve gotten the blame. What was her endgame? I'm 21 now but I think about this interaction all the time and when I’m in small spaces or I get too warm, I still have panic attacks. No one believes this story, and I get it, it's pretty absurd. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to ask for opinions but do you think that this could have been some crazy misunderstanding or do you think that she really just left us in there to die? And why? So, to the lifeguard at that YMCA please let’s not meet again. EDIT: I posted a minor update in the comments

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/zm7iww/i_was_almost_cooked_alive/

LetsNotMeet

bobbybrown666420

The time I jumped out a car

I found this Reddit community and I just had to share an experience I had that was terrifying at the time When I was 12 maybe a little older I was waiting for my ride after school one day when this big white family van pulls up in front of me and asks if I’m waiting for my ride. My family had a van just like this one so it wasn’t suspicious or anything to me but I was dumb and didn’t register that yeah I am and he was asking an obvious question because here I am sitting outside the school by myself but I answered anyways and then he asked what my name was and I hesitated but he explained that he was looking for someone so I gave it. I told him my name was Thea and he said oh so it is you, your mum asked me to come pick you up from school. He then introduces himself as Sam my mums nephew and I had never really met my mums family so I was none the wiser. Eager to get home and out of the cold I didn’t question him much even though I was skeptical. I just jumped in the car and thinking back on it now I realize how dumb I was and how lucky I was to get away. I got in and we started driving towards the opposite direction of my house. At first I thought no big deal of it because there was a route this way to my place but it was just farther. But soon we were passing that route too and out of nowhere I realized we were on the motorway. Now all traces of tiredness had left me and I was on the edge of tears. I asked him if he could please take me home and that if my mom sent him then he should know I’m not really allowed to go out after school but he just kept ignoring me. At this point I was officially balling my eyes out and cars that were passing us on the motorway or standing next to us in traffic were starting to stare. At one point I was crying so much he slammed his hands on the steering wheel and started mumbling how this would be easier for both of us if I would just shut up but now I wasn’t thinking straight and I knew that anything would be be better than making it to wherever he was taking me so the next time the car slowed down I unlocked the door and jumped out. In all honesty I wasn’t thinking at all because if I bought about it I would have chickened out and for once I thank god that I didn’t. I hit the ground and landed on my left leg. The pain was so bad but I didn’t care because in my head anything was better than being in that car. The dude didn’t even bat an eye I feel like In the chaos I seen him try and grab me but once I was outside he just sped away and the driver that almost hit me but stopped just in time got out and ran towards me. The police were called and my parents as well but to this day I am not allowed to wait outside anywhere and even before I’m done with whatever I’m doing. My parents will be outside waiting. So to Sam the stranger, let’s not meet ever again

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/zl8u9e/the_time_i_jumped_out_a_car/

LetsNotMeet

theemessi

Horrible Halloween Night

I apologize if there are some errors or things that may not make sense, this is the perspective my my story told from me and a part by a friend. This happened to me the weekend of Halloween and I personally don’t like talking about it, but Ive been told by my friend to share it to get it off of my chest. Me and a friend were invited to a house party just for college students in the richer area of the town, so the house was huge with an anchor of land and pool area. This party was themed to be a little naughty, so my friend dressed in a sexy nurse outfit, and I dressed as a belly dancer. Majority of the party took place in the house as there was maybe like 70 people with the house being very spacious, so not too difficult to get around. I’m not much of a drinker, but I did have some juice that was available. Some friends pulled me and my friend and over to take some pics and I set my drink down. After what felt like an hour of just taking pictures, I found my cup and took another sip, not even worrying that I left my cup alone for a while. Then a man came up to me who looked to be in his late 20s, early 30s. He said my boyfriend’s name and said he’s been trying to call me. That’s when I realized I didn’t have my phone on me. I have loads of respect for my boyfriend, we always make sure to stay in contact with each other, and since he had to work, I promised I would contact him, but I just forgotten. The man said it’s urgent and said I can use his phone to call in one of the rooms. So not thinking at all, I followed the man, if my boyfriend really wanted to call me, then I knew it would be something terrible. As we entered the room, I felt as if I just ran a mile and felt winded. The man closed the door behind me and sat me on the bed and gave me his phone. I started to feel more weak, like I just got a migraine and just couldn’t call. Then I was helped to lay down and within seconds, I was out cold. I woke up later, not sure where I was or what even happened. I found my friend rubbing a napkin on my tummy while yelling. It took me a bit to come back to reality and I realized I was in a bedroom with my friend cleaning some stuff off of me. That’s when I had a panic attack and just realized that I quite possibly have been used. My friend calmed me down and told me that didn’t happen. She explained that she couldn’t find me anywhere and assumed I went to the bathroom. But after like some minutes, I still didn’t show. So she went looking for me, eventually checking the bedrooms and found me laying in bed with the guy something out of my belly button. Apparently he was playing shots with my unconscious body of of sucking alcohol out of my belly button, licking salt from my chest, and kissing my lips. She didn’t know how long this went on for, but I immediately felt sick and even coughed up from just the thought. Thankfully my boyfriend got off of work early after my friend told him what happened. He picked me up while my friend asked around about the guy, but of course, no one who of him or recognized him. I was taken to urgent care and looked at, thankfully nothing was wrong with me and the drug in my drink didn’t cause any further harm then just knocking me out. I wish the story ends here, but I started to receive texts from a random guy, at first he was just asking me random things and I just didn’t reply, but then he showed me a pic of my torso and started saying creepy things to me and even giving me the impression he’s stalking me. This is still going on today, just texting me randomly. I’ve had the idea to try to bait him one of these days to finally have backup to catch him, but I don’t know how smart he can be and what he will do to me if things don’t go as planned. EDIT: Thank you to everyone who reached out to me in the commends and dms. It really makes me feel better knowing not every stranger out there is a creep. Because of my past trauma and now this, I often find it hard to trust strangers. As far as an update, I stopped receiving texts from the guy just before Christmas. However, I often feel a weird sense that I’m being followed when I’m in public, and there have been a few instances that I thought I’ve seen the man again. I still am spooked at random times when a random man looks at me for too long, but I’ve learned to get over my past traumas, so I hope to do the same for this one. I have contacted the police and asked what I can do. They took my phone in to copy the texts I revived, but I’m sort of doubtful it will go anywhere. I honestly just believe it was a stranger who had bad intentions at the time and acted upon it. I’m not really even upset anymore, I just want to continue with my life and better myself from any other future events. Sorry, I don’t mean to make this update too extended. I don’t think anything else will happen, but if it does, I will update when I can. Again, thank you so much to everyone. ❤️

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/zjfjt7/horrible_halloween_night/

LetsNotMeet

[deleted]

Window Creep

This was a vague memory up until recently when I spoke to my dad about a dream I had. He confirmed that the dream was actually something that happened to me when I was younger and filled in some of the hazy details. These details, I am now going to share with you. It was 1995 and I just moved in to an upper class neighborhood in Southwest Florida. Compared to my previous neighborhood full of professional adults and elderly couples, this neighborhood was a Haven full of children my age and even a neighborhood park and community pool!!! Things started to get weird right from the get go; my third night there, I heard this weird tapping on my window. Being as my bed was up against the wall where the window was, I was not about to sit up and investigate. The tapping continued for about 20 minutes but I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew it was morning. I thought maybe it had been a dream and put it out of my mind for as long as I could. I got ready for school and went to the bus stop, waiting with my sister who was 2 years older. This older man comes up to the both of us and starts to talk about how he wishes his daughter was around on the weekday so she can go to school with us and ride the bus. He then offers to drive us to school since the bus seems to be taking so long. We knew better, and politely declined feeling relieved when the big yellow bus pulled up a few moments later. He seemed disappointed but still maintain a smile and told us to have a great day. We decided to tell our parents because we thought they would get mad at us for talking to someone we did not know. That night, the creepiness reached a new level. I heard the same tapping on the window, only now it was more distinct and was getting stronger. I turned over, thinking my blinds would be down only to realize in horror that they were pulled 3/4 of the way up. I was face to face with the creep from earlier and he just stared at me. A slight smirk on his face, he told me to unlock the window so I could come outside and play with him and his daughter. Being on the spectrum, I trusted people way too easily and as I thought about how fun it would be, disregarding the time, I said (in full sincerity) "let me ask my mom!" His face turned into this scowl I will never forget and banged on the window and demanded I open it immediately. At this point, my dad comes into the room and turns on my light. Having heard some of my side of the conversation, he pieced together what was going on and made eye contact with the guy for about 2 seconds before running outside after him. He did not catch up with him, but did call the police. It turns out the man did have a daughter that he lost custody of due to sexually assaulting her. She did not live with him and had not done so in years. I do not remember what he was charged with but I believe he spent a little time in prison since he was on the registry. So, window creep pedophile let's not meet again

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/zhyqtc/window_creep/

LetsNotMeet

prettylittlegrimm

Grabbed and picked up from behind at the grocery store

I was probably 8 or 9 years old. My dad needed to go to the one Asian grocery store (at the time) in Kansas City, Missouri. It was a small store, but I remember just aisle upon aisle of random goods from all over Asia. It was dimly lit and wasn’t a particularly bright store. Anyways, we went there at least 2x a month, so I knew where all the good candy and snacks were. My dad was in another section and I was in the snack section. I was minding my own business when all of a sudden someone literally picked me up from behind with his hands/arms. It was a pretty tight grip and I remember feeling quite scared. My “training” kicked in and I yelled for my dad and started to kick him with my heels. After what felt like forever, he dropped me. I only saw the back of his head as he walked away and out the door. Not sure if I yelled loud enough as my dad never came around and I had to go and find him. This experience definitely stuck with me. Now that I’m a father of two young kids, I think about it even more. Edit: grammar and punctuation fixes

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/zhfbah/grabbed_and_picked_up_from_behind_at_the_grocery/

LetsNotMeet

alexgpickle-

Barry

I'll start this by saying I am a 29 year old female from a small town in northern Tennessee. The kind where everyone knows everyone. And the kind where you have to drive 30 minutes to an hour to a job that pays a living wage. So when my dad started his new job around 9 years ago, he found out he was working at the same place as a friend he knew growing up, Barry. I'll also tell you that I was bullied a lot growing up so I took compliments as jokes mostly. So when I first met Barry he would compliment me and tell me how pretty I was(I was 20 at this time) and I always thanked him for the kind words. As time went on the compliments got more intense. He would say he'd love to be with a woman my size. I always laughed it off and never said anything. This went on at company picnics and holiday parties I went to with my dad for about 4 years. Then I got a job with the same company. In the same department as Barry. Things were...*okay* for the 3 months he trained me. He still complimented me daily and I thanked him for the compliments. After my training I went to night shift and only saw him for the 30 minutes of overlap per shift. Then 7 months into the job, my boyfriend and I broke up. Barry was sympathetic at first then became a different person. His compliments became more focused on my body and not my face. He would stare at certain body parts while speaking to me and cock his head to the side while standing behind me if I bent down to pick something up. As a woman in a prominently male work environment, I was used to being stared at, but this was excessive. When I became single, he would also ask me about my sexual history, my preferences in the bedroom, if I'd be with a man of his age(early 50s), or a man of his size(5' and over 300 pounds), he'd become frustrated when I told him no. Declining everything he asked me never stopped him. He just upped his game. He'd start talking about me and my body to other people at work and asking them questions about me or trying to get them to ask me the questions he wanted answers to. He did this numerous times to my best friend who we'll call Jay for privacy reasons. Well luckily for me Jay just so happened to have a massive crush on me. He'd never do anything Barry asked of him. And he always told me everything Barry said or asked. This continued on for around 8 months and then Barry came to night shift. So my 30 minutes with him became 8 hours. He would start telling me all about his sex history, unprompted. The questions, comments, and staring never stopped. To give you a small example, this man asked me if he won the lottery would I sleep with him for money. I said no. He offered me a thousand dollars one time to have sex with him and I said no, I told him there is no amount of money in the world to make me sleep with him. He got mad at that. He'd ask for nude pictures, which I said no to. He'd ask Jay to try to sleep with me and take pictures and videos, he also said no. This all led to me being constantly stressed out and always looking over my shoulder to see if he was staring at me when I had to bend over to pick up something or if I had to reach for something. I'm a very petite woman and all my work clothes at the time were about 2 sizes too large so you couldn't see my body shape at all. I did that to try and make him stop staring, but it didn't matter, he still did. I stopped talking to him, I stopped being in his vicinity. But he continued. His comments were just to other people in the building, mainly Jay. It came to a breaking point one week when my supervisor told me that my department had to work one weekend. Alone. Just Barry and myself on our shift. I begged him not to make me come in. I told him I would call out and take a point or whatever I had to. I told him how scared I was to be alone with that man. I told him no man should be alone in a building this size with a woman period. He listened and cancelled the overtime. He made sure I was never alone with Barry without a 3rd person around. I finally broke down and told hr about it all. That turned out to be a waste of time. It continued for 6 more months, but thankfully I was on medical leave for surgery for 2 of those months. Then in November of last year the right person on my shift heard me crying and complaining to Jay about everything before going home one night and they complained to HR on my behalf. They finally opened an investigation, they asked me a ton of questions and my answers filled up 2 notebook pages front and back of just the comments and questions from him over 3 years. They asked Jay a ton of questions and a few other people who worked around us and 3 days later, he was finally let go for harassment. He threatened me the day they put him on suspension for the investigation and he was banned from company property unless he wanted to be arrested. I filed a no contact order against him and haven't heard from him in over a year. Jay finally told me that Barry had admitted to him at one point shortly before he was let go that if he ever got me alone, he was going to rape me and do ungodly things to me and then just leave my body somewhere. So I am extremely grateful to my supervisor for not letting that happen to me. I had to type this out twice to get my thoughts in order. But the thing that bothers me a lot about all this, Barry had a daughter a year younger than me, and she had nothing to do with him when I knew him. I can't help but wonder what abuse he possibly put her through growing up. It has been over a year since this all came to an end. I'm no longer scared at work, I'm not on edge or stressed out. I'm not living in baggy ass clothes anymore. But as long as Barry is living and breathing in my hometown, I will not live there. And he's made a lot of enemies in that small town because of this. That happens in small towns when your parents know everyone, including the sheriff. Oh and about Jay. His massive crush paid off and we're now dating. I've never felt safer with anyone in my life. So Barry, the pervert who made my work life hell for 3 years, let's never meet again. And to any other girl or woman who is being harassed at work, don't be afraid to speak up. I promise you it's worth it to tell someone.

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/zgmnkq/barry/

LetsNotMeet

EndOfMe

Dog Kidnapper

(Sorry for my bad english) This happened \~ 2 hours ago I'm 17 and I live in a group home with 8 other boys that are 13-18 years old and some educators, and we have a dog called Sunny. We live next to a school that allows us to go take Sunny on a walk on their property, and every day one of the boys has to take him out on a walk after dinner. Today was my turn, and as usual I took him out without a leash because there's usually no one around and inside the school at this time of day. As I was walking around the school to the parking lot with Sunny not far ahead, I started hearing a woman whistle and clap their hand on their lap. When I noticed that she was in fact looking for Sunny's attention, I got a bit suspicious, and called his name to keep him close. Right after I did that, *she* started to call his name, and before I knew it Sunny was running after her as she started walking away, presumably to her car. Luckily, I quickly catched up what was going on and I went directly to talk to her. She wasn't showing any aggression at all, but she started saying some random bullshit like "oh I thought it was a coyote or something, I just wanted to make sure it was Tommy (that's actually how he called him)" and that she worked at the school as an attendant. I pretended to believe whatever she was saying and quickly left home, at a steady pace. When I got home, I immediately told the educators what had just happened and they went to look for the woman in the parking lot. But, of course, she had already left. The most disturbing thing with this is how smoothly she went from fucking stealing my dog to pretending she wasn't, and how efficiently she drew Sunny's attention to her. That probably means it wasn't her first time and if I wasn't watching, she would've most likely drew him to the car before I'd notice. ​ Be careful with your dog.

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/zgjx4l/dog_kidnapper/

LetsNotMeet

Ludoki

HACKED & STALKED

Hi guys, I need advice, I know this is not usually what people post here but I don’t know where else to post. But for about 3 months I have been experiencing hacking from what I assume to be another tenant in my building. It began with hacking my Bluetooth speaker, I would be listening to something while doing house work and the next thing I know my device would be disconnected and the hacker would start playing very creepy and inappropriate music via my speaker. The main song they would play is “f***ed with an anchor” by Alestorm, a song I had never heard until this (if you choose to listen to the song, you will see why this immediately freaked me out). I would try everything I could to turn it off but they would put the volume at full and play again and again. This happened on two seperate occasions. After this I stopped using my Bluetooth speaker, to prevent this from happening again. Until they hacked into my PlayStation and began playing the same song, again on full volume and continued to play after I tried to press pause or exit my music app. I then unplugged my PlayStation and have not used it again. Finally, yesterday I had asked google a question via my google nest device and straight after I heard a *ding* on the device (signalling someone else was controlling it - which is only possible if I grant access, also the case with all the devices they have hacked so far). Straight after the *ding* the hacker started playing creepy music again, different from the last time, it was an old song with a very creepy undertone and the only words I remember are “times are getting hard boy”. I straight away unplugged my device to stop the music and have stopped using the device all together. The reason this had freaked me out more than the last few times, is the fact I was on the phone with a friend at the time, talking about some personal things I had going on. Therefore, I believe the hacker is able to hear me, I am unsure whether this is due to them being a direct neighbour of mine or whether they have hacked my devices to listen to me. I’m completely stumped with what do do now, as I’ve contacted my landlord and all they said was they’d send out a warning email to all tenants but I needed to contact my internet provider for further action (I should of mentioned this earlier but I live in student accommodation and to make it cheaper everyone uses the same wifi but have seperate log-ins, so the reason it’s so easy for them to hack into my devices is due to us using the same wifi). I then contacted my internet provider and they said they can’t do anything about it! I don’t know what to do anymore! I have now had to forfeit use of three seperate devices, to ensure this stops happening but they continue to find a way to hack me. I feel incredibly unsafe and uneasy in my apartment, becoming paranoid someone is listening to me or watching me, I feel as if I’m going crazy! So please give me advice

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/zbydvd/hacked_stalked/

LetsNotMeet

demigrenfell0

I waved back at a man, now I think he wants to hurt me.

Every day I walk home from school with my friend because she lives only a little bit away from me so our routes line up. At the start of the school year we noticed there was a man usually looking at us from his window while we walked home from school. found it a little weird but ultimately didnt think much of it. A few months ago after the heat of summer dyed down a bit he started sitting out on his porch when we were walking by. Usually he would just smile at us. Sometimes I smiled back but I usually just ignored him. One day as I was walking by his house he waved to me from where he was sitting. I stopped and waved back at him and told him to have a nice afternoon as I walked past. It felt a little weird because he didn't reply but eventually I forgot about the whole thing. Once when my mother was at work and I was alone at our house I noticed him walking past my house several times through my window. I felt very creeped out and uncomfortable. I considered talking to my parents about it just in case but I ultimately convinced myself he wasn't doing anything wrong so it didn't really matter. Yesterday I walked home from school alone because I stayed behind with some other kids outside the school for a few hours since we had art club that day and i didn't want to walk home just to have to come back fairly soon after. I had just bought myself a nice pair of wired headphones a few weeks with money I've been saving up for a long time since I don't have a job. I was playing them over one ear as i was walking home. On the way home there is a public lot with a stable on it that I like to cut through to get into my yard as quick as I can rather than walking around the property. Sometimes people like to hang around it to meet up but there wasn't anyone on it that i could see. As I rounded a corner on the stables someone grabbed the back of my shirt. From the way they were grabbing it I could see part of their hand. I jerked forward and they grabbed the top part of my headphones. The wire was at the bottom part of my neck and it got stuck for a moment and I remember feeling like if i couldn't get away something very bad was going to happen. The wire eventually snapped and I took off running as fast as I could screaming. They let go of my shirt and I hopped the half length fence to our property and I ran as fast as I could out onto the sidewalk in front of my house because I was worried that I would take too long on the lock if they were following me. By the time I actually got to the sidewalk point I was crying and I felt like I was going to collapse because I was so scared. When I looked over my shoulder I couldn't see anyone but I kept running until I reached my friend's house in case whoever was there was still around When I got there I was in tears and it took a bit to explain the situation because they couldn't understand me. I tried calling my mother but she wouldn't pick up the phone. My friends mom called the police and they came to check things out. There was nobody at the stables and they told me that it was most likely some kid trying to mess around but they escorted me home to where my mother was waiting for me anyways. I didn't tell them about the old man because I was worried they would think I was crazy considering he hasn't technically done anything but there's something in my mind that keeps telling me that it was him who grabbed me at the stables. When I was walking home from school today I brought a screwdriver with me in case I needed to defend myself. I also had my friend with me. My mother offered to pick me up from school but I was worried that if I had shown how the encounter had effected me then it would make things worse. I also avoided the stables and my friend made surw i made it to the door. The guy on his porch wasn't there today and I'm still not fully sure if it's him or not. I feel terrible that my headphones broke but I can't help but wonder what would've happened if they didn't. I will update if anything else happens. I am using a spare account in case any personal details not in this post can be found on my main account.

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/z8dx6d/i_waved_back_at_a_man_now_i_think_he_wants_to/

LetsNotMeet

koauduj0192

Intruder sent free

So this happened today a year ago. (F16 at the time) Keep in mind i live in South Africa where the crime rate is high but the area where i live is mostly safe. Brought up i was taught to always keep the doors and windows locked when home alone. I came home from writing an exam earlier that day and wanted to take a nap, i made sure all the doors and windows were locked before taking my nap. Usually if i took a nap i left my door open in my bedroom but on this specific day i closed my door for some reason. While i was asleep my body started shaking (like i was having a panic attack but in my sleep.) Still half asleep i started hearing noises in the house, i looked at my phone to see what time it was since i thought maybe it was my parents who came home early. I went out of my room and as i turned left there was a homeless guy rummaging through the closet of the other room (the room was right next to mine). Being still half asleep and witnessing a literal burglary my mind went blank. The guy came up to me and put a knife against my throat demanding me to give him money or he’ll unalive me. Crying hysterically begging him to not hurt me. He saw my phone in my pocket and demanded me to give it to him. I went from being scared to mad and I refused to give my phone to him (i know i should’ve probably gave my phone to him but this was the only expensive thing i’ve got and knew my parents couldn’t afford to get me a new one) I started fighting back and the more i refused to give my phone, the more he started pushing me back, i ended up in the bathroom (right across the room) he pushed me into the bathtub and got over me. Right in that moment i thought that would be the end of me, i yelled at him that i’ve already called the police and that they’re on their way (that wasn’t true). After i said that he closed the bathroom door and ran off, i then called the police and parents ect. The police came and found the knife he held against my neck outside the house and discovered that he broke the door down (thats how he entered the house) In April this year, 5 months after the incident they found the guy and saw that he has been in jail for burglary over 10 times but every time they let him out after a few months (typical for South Africa) but i was the first instance for attempted murder. I was going to go to court to give my testimony but the police said the chances of him going to jail for a few years were slim and i’m going to waste my time by testifying. We tried to argue that he should go to jail but it didn’t help, he was released despite his charges. Later on we found out his brother is a policeman and that’s most likely how he got away with everything. I can’t sleep at night knowing he has been released and if that was the situation that his brother helped him by getting out, he now has all my information and knows where i live. I hope to never encounter him again.

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/z7p1ma/intruder_sent_free/

LetsNotMeet

lannie04

An old man continuously seeks me out at work.

To start, I am a female in my early twenties & I work as a cashier at a grocery store. I talk to hundreds of people a week. I should've knew something was off when he first came through my line about six months ago, but my job is to be friendly to people so I treated him like every other customer. He was obviously down on his luck, and when I asked the usual question of: "How's a-going today?" he proceeded to tell me a whole sob-story. His wife (possibly ex?) had apparently kicked him out of the house. In his words, apparently, because she was having a "psychotic breakdown." (Should've been my first red flag) He was houseless, lonely, and hungry. I felt bad for him & attempted to sympathize. He was trying to buy a hot roasted chicken, but our government programs in this state don't cover hot food for some reason. So I did some cashier magic & changed it so his food stamps would cover the chicken & he'd have a hot meal that night. This was my first mistake. Although he was extremely grateful, this also was apparently a defining moment for him. Every Monday he proceeded to come through my line & buy a hot chicken, I genuinely thought I was just doing something nice for someone going through a hard-time. He always ended up trapping me at my register with conversation. At first it was to complain about his ex's "psychotic behavior." He called her a narcissist & crazy. I just listened because I had nowhere to go, I was at work after-all. After awhile he got over it, and moved into a hostile of some sorts. He was somewhat more stable, but also obviously depressed. He always told me I cheered him up & he enjoyed talking with me. I told him that I did as well. Maybe that wasn't the right thing to say, but I really did at the time. He would also occasionally ask what my shift was/when I got off work, but I was too naive at the time to see the harm in the question. Eventually he was very excited to tell me he got a hold of a used keyboard & was excited to be playing/writing music again. I told him that was awesome & that I also played the piano! Something must've clicked in his brain, because now he had something to relate to me about. Every conversation we had from there he was encouraging me to play piano again & telling me I'd be a great music teacher, even though he'd never heard or seen me play. I nodded and smiled and did my job, I really thought the conversation topic was innocent enough. Then, one day, he asked for my email. This is where I feel I really fucked up. Even though it was a burner email & never planned on responding, I gave it to him. He was sending me music he liked & music he wrote and I never responded to him. I knew it was upsetting to him, but at this point something felt weird & responding would've been opening another line of communication with him. I kind of had my fill at work already. At some point he also asked for my number, but I declined giving to him. He said he "Finally wanted to have a real conversation with me." Even after never responding to his emails once. I should mention, my coworkers always thought the interactions he had with me were a little too personal & lengthy. Someone even called him a creep one day, but I brushed it off. I was just being friendly to someone who was down on their luck, so I thought. Eventually everything my coworkers were saying was starting to ring loudly in my head. I found myself avoiding him. He was sending me emails at least once a week & I never replied. I knew he'd come in on Monday's & about what time, so I'd take an extra break then. I just didn't want to see him anymore, I didn't want to talk. And to be frank, he was creeping me out a bit. Last week, one of the busiest weeks at the grocery store (week before Thanksgiving), I couldn't avoid him & he came through my line. He only bought a bag of chips, very clearly just wanting to talk to me & waited in line for five minutes instead of going through the express registers. I gave him short answers & tried not to engage too much. He told my I had saved his life, and had somehow helped completely turn it around. (By being his cashier at the grocery store?) This is something he has said before, but this time he told me he had wrote me a song to return the favor. I didn't know how to react, but in the moment I said I'd let him know what I think. I saw it in my email, but never gave a listen. Never even read the email. This interaction made me feel icky. It told me everything I needed to know. He was thinking of me after he left the store. He was thinking of me while he was home. He was thinking about me while writing music. The only thoughts I were having about him were on Monday's, because I knew he'd be coming in. My thoughts about him were filled with dread & anxiety. Today was my absolute breaking point. I got back from my last break & saw him just getting off the bus. At this point, my coworkers know I try to avoid him. I ran up the stairs to the break room & was obviously panicking. 15 minutes later one of my coworker's comes in & lets me know he did 3 laps around the store, looking for me & then left without buying anything. He was clearly seeking me out. I told her I was gonna wait 10 more minutes & would be back on the floor. So I did that, but when I got back to the floor I was just filled with anxiety & clearly looking around for him. Thank God my coworkers had my back, because I didn't notice him coming in again, but he suddenly B-lined to my register. I started having a panic attack. One of the other cashier's was very inviting to him; "I can help you right over here!" she said. At this point I was running away from the registers & the other cashier had stepped into where I was at. He ignored her and followed me. I didn't say anything, I was also clearly panicking (and running away). He followed me to the steps yelling; "Wait OP! I'm sorry OP! I'm sorry." I had just made it to the break room & the store manager opened the door. I had just had a conversation with him about this guy, he told me he would handle the next time he was in, to tell him he needs to leave me alone. I didn't realize it would be in the same day. I blurted out "He's back. He was following me." Management ran down the stairs to try to catch him, but he was gone. He still didn't buy anything, because he only does if I'm his cashier. I had a full-blown panic attack in the break room. I was crying, I called my bf to come pick me up. I didn't want to be alone. His apologies rang in my ears. One of my coworkers pointed out, "He wouldn't be apologizing if he knew he wasn't doing something wrong." That really stung, she was 100% right. My coworkers comforted me, they told me it wasn't my fault & I don't need to be sorry. I just can't help but feel so sorry. Sorry I didn't have the guts to set boundaries with him sooner, or tell him how uncomfortable he was making me. The store manager said his behavior was completely inappropriate. Coming once a week when he knew I was working & only buying something if I was his cashier. He said that was stalker behavior. Everyone did. I ended up going home early & calling out for the next day, because I am genuinely scared of seeing him again this week. I am still in shock and complete disbelief, but old man let not meet again. Especially not next Monday.

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/z7m8fm/an_old_man_continuously_seeks_me_out_at_work/

LetsNotMeet

ElectricFox4

I don't know if i would have made it out of the woods if i had done what he wanted me to do.

Helloo! I just came across this subreddit and gosh some of these are terrifying! I do have a story of something that happened to me from a long while ago, but in hindsight it was really dumb of me and i feel terribly dumb now, so i've always been hesitant to tell a lot of people i know about it, except for my psychiatrist lol. And i always apologize for long posts so it's so hard not to here!😅 There were some other conversations had with this man named John (it was mostly him talking), but i left some of them out for length's sake. This was a few years ago. It was pretty late, past 1:30/2am. I was living with this boy who was pretty abusive, and he had gotten really jealous at this party we were at earlier that night. Not even an hour after we had gotten home, he tossed me out onto our front porch and locked the door behind me. I was knocking and pleading for him to please let me back inside, i was still wearing what i had worn to the party and it was freezing out. I wasn’t sure what to do, he had my phone, purse, and wallet in the house with him so i just sat on the porch crying. When he turned off the lights both inside and outside of the house, i knew he wasn't going to let me back in. I felt so helpless and cold. I thought about knocking on a neighbor's door, (though he didn't have many), but i had anxiety about waking any of them up and causing trouble for my boyfriend. So instead i decided i would try to walk to this gas station and motel (which was like a little less than a mile away) so i could use their phone to try to call a girlfriend of mine to see if i could sleep over with her. Ironically enough the road i was walking on Donner Pass Road so the freezing cold was fitting, but anyway, a little bit into the walk this tall white pick up truck was approaching on the opposite side of the road that i was on. I tried not to make eye contact for obvious reasons, but then I heard the truck stopping and beginning to make a u-turn and my heart just started pounding. I just about froze up but forced myself to speed walk at the very least. The truck pulled up to me and this guy rolled down his window and asked what i was doing out this late. I told him how i was going to meet my friend at the gas station and that she was expecting me. He sort of smiled and offered me a ride, i said no thank you, citing that i shouldn't "hitchhike", he told me, "Well good! I don't pick up hitchhikers, or anyone. You don't look like a hitchhiker though, you just look like you need some help." He just kept driving next to me and told me I shouldn’t think he was a creep and he pulled out what looked like a police badge and told me he had just gotten off duty which is why he was in civilian clothes and out so late. He said he wouldn't mind driving next to me just to make sure i get to where i was heading safely. I was naive and a bit too trusting of his kindness and "credentials" and when he offered me a ride again i said that it would be nice because the gas station wasn’t that far away anyway. He popped the door open for me and i hopped in. The radio was low, it was a little messy, the astray was full of cigarettes, there were a lot of newspapers on the passenger floor, as i was moving my feet some of the papers shifted showing a pair of handcuffs, some coffee cups, empty water bottles, rags, a highlight colored bandana, and some other things. He apologized saying that it was the truck he took hunting, but it was super warm so i was happy and didn't mind at all. He told me his name was John, he asked why i was scantily dressed without a jacket and i started to tell him about the party and the fight i had been in with my boyfriend. He was super charming and attentive, he even laughed that he could go back and arrest him. I asked about him and he told me about his family, he was a young dad, he had a wife, a daughter, a son and a dog, and i told him it was like he had the perfect little family and he laughed and said he certainly did. Then it had sort of clicked for me to ask him i could use his phone, but he said no because he had to save his battery. We we’re approaching the gas station and he drove right past it. I politely said “Oh! I think that’s the one.” But he didn’t answer me. I felt sick to my stomach. My heart started pounding, I started getting choked up, my eyes started tearing up as i was looking out the windows and watching the lights behind us getting further and further away. It was hard for me to even speak but somehow I murmured, asking if he could please turn around and he ignored me. Whenever I would look at him he just looked empty-eyed and emotionless, totally dead and glazed. I looked back out the window and down at the road to see if maybe we were going slow enough that i could make a leap out of the car without seriously injuring myself. I remember always hearing “never go to the second location” but i thought about the possibility of jumping out and breaking an ankle and how it would be a lot harder to get away with one foot as opposed to two, debating with myself that there was snow on the ground, but then again, snow is hard to get along in, especially when you're not fully clothed. I feel so dumb now too because i wasn't even tied up or anything, i was just so scared though. Like there was nothing but trees, an empty road, and us. I was crying pretty badly at this point and asked if I could please borrow his phone again (i don't know why i even asked), and he told me to stop talking. Then he started talking underneath his breath saying, “Girls shouldn’t be out so late.” “You shouldn’t have been alone this late.” “Look what you’re doing to me.” “Dressed like a slut.” And other derogatory things. As he kept saying these terrible things (too many to type out here), I wasn’t even responding, i was just crying and trying to think past the fear i was feeling. I remembered the pair of handcuffs i remember seeing under the papers beneath my feet so i used that little i don't know how to describe it, like, scoopy motion? I managed to use my feet to scoop he handcuffs up and use my heels and toes to push them under the bottom of my seat, as far as i could. I was thinking of different things i could do to try to help myself, like if we were close enough to some upcoming lights or structures (if i ever made it to them), I could just grab the wheel and cause us to crash into them, or maybe how if i got lucky enough for a cop to pass us, I could grab the wheel and swerve so he would appear to be a drunk driver and we'd get pulled over. I guiltily thought about the possibility if this man is just having a weird night and how if i did anything it would hurt him, but i told myself that sort of thinking sort of got me into this mess. He pulled off road where there were still woods on both sides of us, on his side the wooded trees were closer to the road, on mine, the there was a small gap fully covered in thick (i don't know how many feet of snow), before the trees thickly picked up maybe 10-16 yards away. He turned off the car and coldly said there was something wrong with the car and to get out with him. As he grabbed the keys and was stepping out of the car, i grabbed onto the center console and cried and pleaded not to make me get out with him because it was too cold. He turned around to face me, his door still open and shouted at me to get out of the car because we had to go check out the trunk bed hatch. I dug my fingernails deeper into the console, thinking my cries of "no!" and head-shaking would cause him to come around to my side of the car and drag me out himself. I was crying and said “Please John, i’m so cold and scared.” I was thinking of everything i ever heard, “humanize yourself” “use first names”. He stared at me in this like way i can't even describe it to this day, i don't even know how to start. He got back in the car and i slinked towards my window, scared he would drag me over the console. He turned off the headlights and everything just looked dark blue. He stared at the steering wheel for what felt like years before lighting a cigarette and looking out his window and back at me and then back out his window. He heard me shuffle my feet on the newspapers, i was just adjusting my legs, but while still staring out his window told me if i thought about running, he had a quick way to get me where he wanted me. And oddly enough I was sort of thinking of running minutes before that, but reasoned that if he wanted me out of the car then i should definitely stay in, otherwise he could chase me or shoot me (in case he had hunting rifles in the back, i didn't dare look), i'm glad i was right. I think at that point i sort of hit some sort of bottom of my reserve and instead of panic, there was numbness and exhaustion. There were still an occasional hot tear or two, but i just remember being numb. I talked to a psychiatrist about this sort of thing and he thinks it just came from my ex-boyfriends giving me ptsd. It was dead quiet but i finally just barely audibly told him that my friend was still waiting for me and asked about his wife and children and he flatly said he didn't have a wife or children and that his house was empty. I asked him what he was thinking about and he said "I'm thinking of what to do with you." He didn't say it angrily, he just said it flatly and coldly which sort of scared me more. I did start getting worked back up to a cry, at that point and he told me not to cry and turned the car on offering me some heat. I just cried and said i wanted to go home. Eventually, he started driving, and kept driving until we were approaching a gas station. I was gauging the right time to reach for the wheel but before i could, he started slowing down. While pulling up, he told me not to tell anyone or he would find me, then he told me all he was doing was teaching me a lesson not to hitchhike with strangers. He was almost coming to a complete stop, when he told me to get out before he changes his mind. Before he could even get another look at me to assess my understanding, i was already down out of the truck and sprinting towards the gas station. The panic was overwhelming me but then i stopped and remembered to try to see his license plate, i turned around but only caught the blur of the last 3 numbers as he was driving off. I ran inside and asked the clerk behind the counter to please call the police. I waited until the officer got there and i’ll be honest I was a little scared it would be John. My fears melted away when the new-faced policeman got there, i gave him the description of John, his appearance, the vehicle color and type, the parts of the license plate number i had caught, the fact he said he was an off duty cop, just basically anything i could. I asked him if he could look at the camera and the officer disappeared in the back for a little bit then came back out saying there was nothing was on them. I asked if i would be able to look and the officer said no and asked me if i didn't trust him and i told him of course i did. The officer gave me a ride to my friend's lecturing me for hitchhiking consisting of him repeatedly asking if i knew who Ted Bundy was (Of course i knew, i was just naive to think 'it could never happen to me' and i was desperate for some warmth). I never heard anything back about the report that was made, so i would try to follow up and each time i did, they never got back to me aside from this one time i was told my case number didn't exist, but that didn't stop me from trying to follow up. Throughout the months and years I asked my friend (whose home i slept over at that one night) if they she ever heard of any like weirdness or anything since that incident had happened to her or anyone up there and she always says no. So i sort of let it go and try to tell myself that maybe he actually was just trying to teach me a lesson or something. I mean i definitely never hitchhiked again, so if it was a lesson, it certainly worked. I never heard anything back having to do with the case, i never heard of any other odd experiences up there, maybe it was just one man trying to teach me something. But honestly sometimes i think i tell myself all of that to help me sleep better at night. It all felt really real. Even if it wasn't real, I'm really glad i didn't get out of the car in the woods that night. This has also been super therapeutic to let out, so thank you so much for letting me to post here.♡ Edit: I’m not really the biggest fan of a few of you trying to inbox me saying you’re “John”, so if you could maybe not that would be super neat- thank you!😅

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/z6qmc6/i_dont_know_if_i_would_have_made_it_out_of_the/

LetsNotMeet

sweet_tangeriine

Dude tried to run me down in his car for unknown reasons..

I’m usually a lurker, but this memory from a year ago popped into my head and I want to share because I was so shocked in the moment, I realize now how scary the situation was. And it was just…super strange. Keep in mind this story is hard to describe, but I’ll try my best. I (22F) met my dad at a tire shop in an…increased crime area of town. Not really sure why we went to this shop. It was probably around noon. My dad brought his chihuahua with him so I took her on a walk around the tire shop while he consulted with the mechanics. The shop was about half a football field away from a busy street, with a big field in between the shop and the street, in an otherwise residential area. I figured it was safe enough to walk the dog around in the field because my dad and the mechanics were right there, however the shop was fenced in and not facing the field, sooo I guess it wasn’t actually that safe for me because my dad/employees couldn’t see me. So, I was just walking the little dog around in this field, not too close to the busy street. And suddenly, this beat up car with the windows down starts driving really slowly on the busy street, and I can tell the dude driving was staring at me. The street is somewhat far away from me, and he eventually drives past, so I’m like, whatever. But then a couple seconds later, I see the car again going down the street in the opposite direction, going really fast, and he turns onto the side street where I am. He’s driving very, very fast, and he just…guns it into the field where I’m walking the dog. Literally jumping the curb, he’s coming straight for me, very fast, and I’m just shocked. Thinking, is he about to plow us down? Wtf is happening? It was just so quick and unexpected. In my confused shock, I’m just hesitating with the dog, contemplating running away but also not wanting to turn my back on the car. Then, MIRACULOUSLY, I guess there was some kind of uneven ground or a hole because the guy’s car (which was a real beater, very old) got stuck and a wheel started spinning. With his windows down, I can hear him cursing, and take this moment to scoop up the dog, about to run out of there. Then he opens the car door, about to get out of the car. I can’t remember any descriptions about this man other than he was quite overweight. Again, because of the shock, I can’t even recall his race or age range or anything. Right at that moment, a truck pulls up beside us, with two youngish men inside. It was like a construction truck. They roll down the windows and ask if this guy is bothering me, they say it loudly, and it spooks the guy and he goes back into his car. He then is able to peel out, in reverse, from whatever hole the car was stuck in. He very quickly reverses out from the field we’re in, back onto the street, and takes off. The kind men who stopped apparently saw all this happen, it just happened so quickly. They were just as confused as I was. What was this dude’s game plan? What was he attempting? Kidnapping me in broad daylight, obviously with people around? I’m not sure. I’m so glad his car got stuck and I didn’t find out. It was just very strange. I’m grateful his car got stuck and the guys who drove by stopped and were willing to check out the situation. We chatted for a second after the guy left and were all very confused about what had happened. I can be overconfident at times about my safety, but after a handful of other strange, potentially dangerous encounters, I’ve learned to always be alert, bad things can happen anytime and anywhere, and don’t freeze in fight or flight situations. So many times, I’ve frozen instead of fighting or flighting, when I really should’ve taken some kind of action. Thankfully my guardian angels have my back, but I won’t take them for granted.

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/z5im9y/dude_tried_to_run_me_down_in_his_car_for_unknown/

LetsNotMeet

headcreeps92

Two abusers for the price of one!

Buckle up, we're in for a wild ride, folks! I was 14 at the time, living with my abusive parents who isolated me from the outside world, and attending an online self-paced school. My only "real life" friend was my best friend. We had met in person when in elementary school and would see each other in person often, until her family moved a 5-6 hour drive away. She attended a public school in a small town (population was estimated at 400, so *small* town). Anyways, I rarely saw my best friend in person anymore. And we would talk extensively for about a month or two before her mom's abusive boyfriend would ground her for random shit. While grounded, she would go MIA for anywhere from a week to a few months and I had no peers to socialize with outside the house beyond that. Alex and I would mostly chat via Google Chat and Wattpad. On Wattpad, she introduced me to some of her classmates. One of whom became my boyfriend - Dan, he was 16. My best friend, Alex, had just turned 16. Within a week of chatting, Dan and I had gotten into an intense relationship. Even during periods when Alex and I were talking, Alex could barely hold a conversation due to her busy schedule, but Dan would chat with me from dusk til dawn with no regard for anything else on his schedule. I was deeply infatuated with him, I completely trusted him, and had already planned a future with him (in which I got married to him as soon as I turned 18 and we had 8 kids - *yikes*). I was deeply lonely and sought out love, acceptance and companionship from wherever I could find it. And Alex alone simply couldn't provide that. Moreover, I genuinely thought my only purpose in life (besides having a million babies) was to help other people, so I had no problem neglecting my schoolwork trying to help Dan and whoever else needed it. And, of course, growing up in an abusive household where I was as isolated as I was left me perfectly primed for more abuse. ​ Early in our relationship he got me to play his favorite mobile game with him. In this game, we gathered a group of strangers to play with and chatted via the game itself. We got to know our group members a little - there was Dan, me, two or three 20-something year old men and another 14 year old. Besides a few uncomfortable conversations in which Dan bragged about how I sent him nudes (because he would regularly coerce me into doing so), talked in great detail about how I looked and how he planned to have sex with me to our group members (*much to the enjoyment of all the 20-something year old men present*), the other 14 year old, Elijah, had a few discussions with us about his little sister. He once told us how his little sister was catcalled. He spent a great deal of time telling us how she was in elementary school yet she had *massive boobs.* Elijah told us they were "probably F cups," then proceeded to tell us how he swung in and rescued her from the pervs catcalling her. After this, I invited Elijah to chat with me on Google Chat so we could become friends. Now, it wasn't long after befriending Elijah that my relationship with Dan fell apart. Dan was stupid enough to give me his email password, and I couldn't help but snoop through it in a sad attempt to get closer to him. Besides finding out that he had been dating someone else while dating me, he had also coerced her into sending him nudes and dumped her *on her 15th birthday. But wait, it gets worse.* He also had accounts on bestiality sites and accounts on sites like PornHub, with emails suggesting he posted content. And considering how he adamantly refused to send anything more than a dick pic on the rare blue moon yet had a plethora of nudes from not only me, this other girl he dated alongside me, and possibly many other girls via the "hundreds" of other email addresses he told me he had, I think it's safe to bet that he was posting child porn that he had coerced us into sending him. I took screenshots of everything and immediately sent it to Alex and her sisters and mom, because Alex and her sisters not only went to school with Dan, but he also walked them home from school everyday. I should also mention that he was known to sexually harass his female classmates, including groping Alex once. On another occasion after I came out as bisexual he tried to force Alex and me to have a threesome with him, he went as far as to lie and say Alex said yes to him to pressure me into saying yes, too. Alex's mom later told me that "Dan was like a brother to Alex \[and her sisters\]," in response to the email and did nothing. To this day, that still makes me sick to my stomach and angry beyond belief. Naturally this lead to a huge fight between Dan and I. *Somehow* he convinced me to stay with him after spewing a million excuses. While all of this was going on, Elijah and I had been talking every day as well. Elijah continued to tell me about his sister, who was now incestuous with him. He also told me about his childhood friends, three sisters whose parents were rich and would go away for long periods of time. Much like his sister, hey all wanted to fuck him. And on multiple occasions I conversed with his sister, who was very verbose for an 8-9 year old. Elijah had told me his childhood best friends had pulled some of his baby teeth out when he was 7, tied him to a chair stripped naked and masturbated in front of him and that they regularly kept him locked in a closet when he stayed the night. Once, they supposedly knocked him unconscious. I only knew this because Elijah was narrating to me that they were chasing him with baseball bats and brooms after discovering he was talking to me, he told me they hit him in the head once followed by him keyboard smashing to signify that he was out cold. Then his phone was snatched by the eldest sister who went a tirade about how Elijah belonged to them and only them and how if they ever caught me talking to him again, they'd kill me or whatever. For context, the eldest sister was allegedly in her 20's, in college and had a boyfriend. She also typed in a veeeery similar manner to Elijah. Alongside all this anime-inspired nonsense, Elijah would frequently tell me he liked me, flirt with me, make uncomfortable sexual jokes directed at me, and threaten to harm himself if I didn't reciprocate his feelings. Next thing you know, Dan turned 17 and my 15th birthday was on the horizon. Dan and I got into another huge fight. He was convinced my parents would report him for being a pedophile if they found my nudes and he didn't want to go to jail. No matter how many times I told him that that outcome was very unlikely and that even after he turned 18 he would only be two years older than me. He broke things off with me. And thanks to Elijah, I found out he immediately got with a 13 year old girl who was about to turn 14. I was very confused how Elijah found this out. He claimed to have done it via Google+ but after I dug through both their pages, all I could find was a few flirtatious comments from Dan on the girl's page during our relationship. But I was too consumed with anger to care. I contacted the girl and sent her all the screenshots I had taken from his email, as well as my testimony. This marked the first time that I had rightly claimed Dan abused me. This realization began to sink in and I became more aware of abuse as a concept. Luckily, the girl broke things off with Dan before anything happened between them. After my break up, things with Elijah got extra weird. He pushed me harder and harder to get with him, leading to a fight one night. During this fight, Elijah said I should "send him nudes," because he felt he deserved them after all he did for me. I took a break from our friendship after that, blocking him on Instagram. Shortly after, I noticed strange accounts with keyboard smash usernames, no posts, no profile picture, etc. pop up on the list of people who watched my story posts. My account had about 3 followers. One of whom was Elijah and one of whom was another friend from Alex's school. I had never seen these accounts before and none of them ever liked my posts. As soon as I would block one, another would show up. I confronted Elijah about spying on my account. At first he tried to deny it, then eventually confessed. I made the mistake of telling him I wanted to end our friendship before blocking him for good on every platform. However, Elijah could still email me, access an anonymous question box I had up on my Instagram and (due to a glitch on Instagram at the time) still leave comments on my posts that everyone else could see. He would go back and forth from calling me names (a slut, a whore, a bitch, etc.) to begging me to come back and claiming I was the love of his life and hat he was going to harm himself without me. He went as far as making posts on his account with captions of a similar nature. Including putting me in the hashtags and comments of posts that otherwise had nothing to do with me. Including older posts of his. At some point, he told all his friends about how Dan had abused me. He said he told them I was a worthless slut, but one of his friends claimed that he had framed me as the victim in the whole Dan situation. Suddenly, an account popped up on Instagram called Narwhal something. Narwhal had multiple posts, a few followers and followed all the same accounts I did. They spammed all my posts with likes (something Elijah had originally done when I first unblocked him to confront him about spying on me), commented on multiple of my posts and messaged me. I began to talk to them in a friendly manner. They said their name was Ellie and they lived in Hawaii (a place very similar to where Elijah lived on the surface). They capitalized every word in every sentence, something I knew was an intentional choice because there is no way to accidentally capitalize every letter in a sentence. Anyways, I was suspicious from the start but I still had doubts. But Elijah did a dramatic reveal once I mentioned Elijah to "Ellie." His reveal included going back and forth between pretending to be Ellie and admitting he was himself, sending a picture of himself crying, sending images of his arm with cuts on it, sending pictures of me I had sent to him, calling me a fool for falling for his Ellie facade, telling me this isn't the real me and that he loves me and he knows I love him, and so much more. Needless to say, I deleted all my accounts. Everything. And I hope I never see either of them ever again! Good riddance!

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/z5ikqa/two_abusers_for_the_price_of_one/

LetsNotMeet

[deleted]

Went through my Ring doorbell footage, I(26F) think I have a stalker

UPDATE [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/12vyia3/he_found_my_post/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_content=2&utm_term=1)On mobile so I apologize in advance for any mistakes I didn’t catch/ I will fix it when I get off of work later!. ring video linked at bottom. I don’t think I’m breaking any rules by sharing this footage, but please delete if so! I shared my ring doorbell with my buddy who asked me if I had ever watched the doorbell messages she had left for me. I have never thought about looking at who’s rang my doorbell for some reason I don’t take that feature seriously so I flipped through the recorded videos not expecting to see anything other than my friends as they come inside, my roommate and I sometimes doing an outfit check on the fucking doorbell. and evidence of how often I use DOORDASH probably . Let me just say first… I was confused as to why he wouldn’t just ask me what he needed to ask me while I am in public outside, and in a more normal place to approach someone rather than obviously overstep a boundary and make me question whether or not I’m safe when I walk down the street with my dogs or if I genuinely need to be looking for my shoulder No clue who this is or what he could want but why but here are the [creepy ass videos in question](https://imgur.com/gallery/XRSgi69) I went back and looked at my ring notification history just to see right before he rings my doorbell+ what came after.what came immediately before and I mean within the minute, was me finishing my walk with my one of my dogs. once I get inside my building which is a big house that has an unlocked front door during the day so that’s why I didn’t lock it behind me I guess.. ,. It was roughly a minute for him to come inside immediately after me. Each time I’ve never seen this man before, and I had no idea anyone ever followed me inside or tried to get me to come to the door for whatever reason more than once. I literally do not know anything so for what that’s worth I kind of feel like maybe I’m being?? stalked? is it weird of me to think that maybe it does have something to do with my dogs? That might sound stupid, but they are a really interesting breed. I’ve heard of people stealing animals I just don’t know what to think of this entire situation There really isn’t much I can do besides let my landlord know and he’ll just tell me to call the police In which case I wouldn’t even know what to say. To the man leaving weird ass cryptic shit on my ring, please Let’s definitely not meet.

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/z4rkgk/went_through_my_ring_doorbell_footage_i26f_think/

LetsNotMeet

stepmomjuul

I am out of options, help

From 2017 to 2021 I was in a long distance relationship. I was able to overlook so many red flags because ignorance was bliss and the relationship wasn't the lovey dovey kind, I finally moved in with him beginning of 2021 and it was a great mistake which lead to our break up earlier that year. Recently after 19 months my ex has been harassing me and trolling me. Last month he hacked and sucked out information from my phone using an encrypted video or link or picture that automatically downloaded on to my phone, he used that information to hack my Luno account, my Google account and got my passwords, I was able to secure some so he couldn't access it, but earlier today he took over my Facebook account for 7 hours and started posting inappropriate pics and videos of me. I was able to take my Facebook back with the help of a friend. He has been threatening me and sending malicious messages sometimes pretending to be someone else or a group of people but sometimes as himself. It took me 10 months to get over the emotional, mental and psychological damage he had caused me and the fact that he's back 19 months later and harassing me some more is messing with me. I need help, I do not know where he lives now but he is supposed to be in another province/state but Google showed me he is now in the same city as me, I am scared for my life, I think he is stalking me and trying to find my exact address. I just want to find his exact address first so I can notify the police of his whereabouts. I don't know if this is okay to post or not but I just have to risk it anyway. Please if someone is able to help me I will appreciate it.

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/z2vscd/i_am_out_of_options_help/

LetsNotMeet

CuriouserndCurious49

Holyhill gun man

So I live in the south of Uk in this small neighbourhood, little or no serious crimes has happened here. Obviously in the UK there are no guns but there are exceptions with land owners. Anyway earlier this year I was at school and one of my friends told me a man with a shot gun had aimed it and chased a group of my friends out of his land, in my opinion this is way to far but is not technically illegal so this is fine. A few weeks later I’m walking through the same area of woods, with a different group of friends, but this time I am not on his property and I am on the right side of the river that divides the public land and the private land. Anyway we sit down on the park bench and look at the river and talk. A few minutes later I heard my friend run away. I immediately looked around and couldn’t see them but then I noticed a tall bald man holding a shotgun. I am shocked but not scared. Then he cocks it and aims it at me. I now go into my fight of flight response but instead of flight, I do flight and fight, I pretty much called him a prick and ran away. When I got back to my friends I saw one of them shaking and crying (he has major anxiety.) this is when I realised what that man just did, we where not on his property and he still threatened a group of kids with a large gun. Does he not understand that aiming guns at children can cause psychological effects on them, does he not have empathy for children and does he know that he isn’t the only one with emotions. Anyway this might not be scary but I just thought this was a place where I can talk about this.

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/z1bfeb/holyhill_gun_man/

LetsNotMeet

Userurmum123

That’s not my friend in the woods

I grew up out in the wooded country in Illinois, on a short dead end street 10+ miles from a town, and there were 7 houses in the area spread out on 2.5 acre wooded lots or larger each. There were no large wild animals (there aren't bears or similarly large animals in the region) and people didn't meander there or show up lost. Actually lost folks or large animals wandering around never happened in the 20 years I lived there. So please keep that in mind. When I was a young girl in my early teens, I had a good guy friend a few years older than me who lived next door, Terry. Terry was allowed to go out with his friends much later than I was and he would sometimes tromp over to my yard after getting home late and throw rocks from the gravel area outside at my window to chat. My bed was right next to the window. I'd open the window and we'd whisper stories and generally talk for a bit. My second story window faced our backyard and his house was to the side. I could see his house from my window over the shrub trees and walking path to his driveway. I'd often know if he was out (the light was on over the side door entrance) or already home (light was off). One time during the summer when my window was open I heard a car in his driveway dropping him off. I was probably 14 years old and it was around midnight. I heard Terry get out of a car and was talking to his friends. Soon his friends pulled away. I softly called out, as loud as I could without waking my parents, asking Terry to stop by and chat. He didn't respond as he probably didn't hear me. Then I came up with the not-so-brilliant idea to sneak outside and scare him. I'd spent many years in the woods and learning how to blend in and be silent. As kids we'd often sneak around and scare each other. So I silently sneaked down from the second floor and out my back garage door which led to our backyard below my window which led to Terry’s house off the side through our gravel area then through a well worn path through the woods about 25 ft long. My parents had put in a gravel pit around the back of the house probably because nothing much grew due to the shade of the Oak trees. There were 14 inch Oak rounds set out as an uneven stepping path in the gravel and if you stepped off of the rounds the crunch of gravel/rocks would give you away. I picked my way expertly and silently across the log rounds facing Terry’s house. My eyes got accustomed to the dark and I didn't see him. Also at that time I heard the door of his house close and the light going off signaling he went in, likely to bed. I waited a bit as I thought I saw something move in the woods between our houses but not on the path we'd always use. If you didn't use the path there were wild rose and raspberry plants that had thorns and were painful to walk through if you weren’t careful. So I thought it was odd that he'd be in the woods but maybe he wanted to scare me like I was plotting to do to him. But I saw something human sized and dark moving though the woods slow and pausing every once in awhile like me. It was coming closer and I definitely saw it but it was strange in that it wasn't walking directly to my window to talk. Therefore I hunched down and waited in silence wondering if I could still startle him. I still thought it was Terry and he saw me sneak out and he was trying to scare me. I watched a dark outline of a human figure moving, but then I would lose site of it in the foliage. It seemed to be stalking slowly and listening/checking every few feet while hiding. So I whispered after losing patience one last time for Terry but he didn't answer. I got bored of hiding and crouching so I quietly, tippy toed back to my garage door and went back inside silently locking up as I went. I snuck back upstairs to my room above the area where I was just standing/crouching. My window was open and I definitely heard someone/something walking around the yard. I whispered again for Terry out my window but got no answer. Then I heard someone/something fall and grunt/moan pretty loudly in the window well right below my window. It wasn't enough to wake my parents but definitely loud enough I didn't mistake it and it sent a shock of fear through me. If you aren't familiar with a window well, it's a semi-circle hole connected to the house dug out about 3 or 4 feet deep and reinforced with metal. It allows a basement window to be put in below ground level and the hole let's some natural light in. There is NO WAY Terry would have fallen in our window well. We had been playing hide and seek and many outdoor games for years since we were young around the whole neighborhood. We knew everyone's window wells and house footprints (plus paths in the woods) like the back of our hands. The grunt sounded humanish and not like an animal. It also pulled itself out quietly without a lot of thrashing. That's when I realized this wasn't a fun game and someone/something was out there and it wasn't Terry. I tried to look outside my window as best I could but there was a screen on my windows to keep the bugs out so I couldn't lean my head out the window to see next to the wall of our house directly below me. I then heard the crunch of rocks as whatever it was stepping in the noisy gravel. Again Terry would know where the log rounds were and would not step in the gravel. He knew my parents were pretty strict and he was as good at being quiet as I was. Whatever it was stopped and I held my breath. I pretty much sat there with my face pressed against the screen 2 stories up for probably a half hour (it seemed like an hour but I'm sure I didn't have patience back then to wait that long). I never heard it/him/her leave but I grew tired and eventually fell asleep on my bed that was next to the window. There are a few things I'm certain of: - it wasn't Terry. I asked him later and he said he went to bed that night when he got home. He also would have no reason to lie. - im pretty sure wasn't one of our neighbors and I can't think of any reason a person would be there. We had few neighbors and only 2 other houses out of 7 had kids. Again these 7 houses were spread out in 2.5+ acres per home. - there weren't any big animals in the area. As wooded as the whole area was we only had some deer but they were hunted and didn't come close to homes. Plus our dog scared them away. Stranger in the woods, let’s not ever meet. EDIT: made some edits to match rules of the subreddit.

https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/yzitbk/thats_not_my_friend_in_the_woods/

LetsNotMeet

Bossyboots801

My mom's gut feeling saved her from a murderer

In summer of 2012, when my mom was 30, she had a habit of jogging late at night on the track in the forest. Our town is small, considered safe and it's a big tourist destination. The track in the forest is illuminated by street light and it's visible in the front and back but sides are full of trees and it's completely black when it's dark. She was jogging one night as usual but got scared without any reason and felt like she was being watched or followed. She continued jogging for a few more minutes but heard something behind her and turned around to see what it is. She saw a pair of jeans in the middle of the track. She immediately ran away, got in the car and got home. 2 days later the body of a 31 year old Mexican woman was found shallowly buried and covered with branches in that same forest. The murdered sliced her throat so bad he almost decapicated her. It was all over the news. He got caught but he's out in 2027 because he pleaded not guilty. To this day i believe my mom wasn't gonna be the target, but the witness and collateral damage that night if she hadn't ran away.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/147l8gy/my_moms_gut_feeling_saved_her_from_a_murderer/

TrueScaryStories

Best-Significance962

I almost got kidnapped as a child…?

This is a weird story, and I hope I don’t get in trouble by a mod for posting this, but I think I almost got kidnapped when I was kid. I’m 18 F, and I have a sister. I don’t remember our age, but I know that we were below 10 years old when this happened. We lived 15 minutes away from Houston in the suburbs (not the nice part, dont be fooled). I remember playing outside in the yard with my sister. We always played outside in the yard without our parents’ supervision which is what my sister and I were doing on this day. Speaking of parents, ours warned us of stranger danger since the day we could understand words. They mentioned tactics and what to look for and avoid to keep ourself from being kidnapped. It was a actually something I thought I’d have to deal with a lot more often than I did. While my sister and I were playing in the yard, a car drove past. I remember it was a car. A sedan. Me and my sister always took note of passing cars due to my parents’ stranger danger talks. We made a mental note of it and kept playing. A few minutes later, the car drove past again. This was in the late 2000s, so we were playing outside everyday, and this actually happened a lot. Different cars and trucks would drive past us multiple different times while we played outside. We’d either go inside if they passed too slow or just wait to see what happened, and nothing ever did. When we saw the sedan pass by for the second time, me and my sister mentioned it to each other, but that’s all we did. We kept playing, waiting to see if it came back, and it did come back. It wasn’t driving slowly though, so my sister and I kept playing. It came back around for the fourth time, this time very slow, and they came to a slow stop right infront of our house. My sister and I didn’t say a word, we stood up before it even came to a stop and ran into the house. The car wasn’t there when we went back outside. I don’t remember being scared though. It just felt like a game. Or instinct. Idk. Y’all think we were almost kidnapped?

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/146r39z/i_almost_got_kidnapped_as_a_child/

TrueScaryStories

CheapChampionship775

The Face of Chaos

A few years back I ended up having a psychotic break which inevitably left me having profound hallucinations and nightmare fueled experiences bordering on the religious/paranormal (Thankfully not anymore). Out of the numerous hallucinations I’ve had, one stuck out to me a bit more than the others. As I was laying down in my bed on the brink of falling into a deep sleep, something woke me. I saw a vivid vision of a demonic reptilian face. Reptilian eyes, black and red skin, snakelike teeth. But it didn’t look like something you would see created by makeup artists for a horror movie. It was too realistic, even for movie standards today. Even though I saw this, I wasn’t frightened. At least not until I realized why I was envisioning this nightmarish face. As I was tuning into the silence of my room, becoming more awake and realizing what I was seeing in my mind, I started hearing this faint sound coming from all around me. Like it came from angry predators I couldn’t see with the naked eye. “What the hell is that barking noise?“. I knew that this was something I was hallucinating so I was able to distance myself from what was happening in my mind and stayed calm. As I listened for about twenty more seconds I realized the face I envisioned before was my mind showing me what was around me making these horrifying barking noises. But it made the angriest dog bark sound friendly in comparison. I ended up falling asleep once the barking was over and brushed it off. A few days later, I was outside of my job in the parking lot about to walk in to start my shift when I hear this loud abrupt hum. Then out of thin air I see the same creature I envisioned days prior. But this time it was the whole creature. The closest way I could describe it was if a human and Velociraptor had a baby. It’s face was demonic, it had a humanoid body, but it looked like it was aggressively stalking me like a carnivorous prehistoric animal. The hallucinations stopped, but it left me questioning how powerful the mind is, and whether hell is real.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/1452cug/the_face_of_chaos/

TrueScaryStories

GreyGhost_007

The Pandemic

This takes place on **November 21st 2018** this soon will be Important, Okay this may be hard for you to believe but it's the honest truth what happened with this story is that on the day I specified I started having a dream the room was nothing but Pitch Black and a a TV an old timing one in the center with glitched scream or as people call it static snow just so that the whole dream that's all I could hear the static snow however one word emerged from the static the word ”**pandemic**” then I woke up afterwards I didn't know what to make of that dream I didn't know if it was trying to tell me something but I didn't worry about it how are kept having these dreams throughout the couple of months my next dream was about a week after the first same stuff except this time the word was ”**19**” again not sure what to make of it cuz at the time wasn't really reading the news so I wasn't sure to make of it then after another two weeks this dream happens again and the word that emerges this time is “ **global**” and then finally the last two weeks I had this dream this word was spoken “**covid**” I stopped having these dreams however when **January 21st 2019** came around I was watching the news and I heard about covid-19 then all the dreams clicked I realized what it was saying I still haven't told anyone to this day until now cuz I didn't know if anyone would believe me and it scared the shit out of me knowing that my brain was trying to tell me that a global pandemic was coming and I didn't know any better at the time, Anyways stay safe y'all

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/1451fgw/the_pandemic/

TrueScaryStories

LeoJr4TheGamer

Story about how my Best friend almost got kidnapped

Now I am 28 Female (currently) and My name is Marilynn, the girl that almost got kidnapped is still my BFF to this day. So to respect my friend's privacy, we will call her Emily. Emily and I met in a daycare class when we were in pre-k and she ended up coming to my elementary school in 2nd grade, and we became bffs, Fast forward to 7th grade on March 22nd, 2008. Emily and I were having a sleepover at Her house, and our other friend who we will call Betsy was arriving around 3 hours after I got there, Around 2 hours into the sleepover a man in a blue F-150 pulled into Emily's driveway, he told us "Hey is ur mom here?" Emily said "No she is at the farmer's market picking up groceries", The pale bald man said "Great, now one of u is coming with me", he bolted for Emily's arm and started trying to pull her into the back seat of his truck, and this was a real saved by timing moment, Betsy and her dad pulled into the driveway to drop Betsy off, and her dad jumped out of the car yelled at the man for a good 30 minutes, and he drove away, I am still not sure if he ended up kidnapping a kid that day or not, the cops were alerted

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/144iq8l/story_about_how_my_best_friend_almost_got/

TrueScaryStories

Healthy_Lynx3625

Stranger with a Serious Feet Fetish

Not my story, but I heard this on the Mr. Ballen podcast and it terrified me. A daughter and her father were camping. They were in a pretty desolated campground. They both each had their single man tent to sleep in. They get there and nothing out of the ordinary was going on they were setting up their campground. Night time came along and they both went to their tents to go to sleep. The daughter wakes up in the early hours of the morning (still dark out) to shuffling noises outside their tents. At first, she just thought it was her Dad that had got up to use the restroom, but noticed the footsteps were not headed to the bathroom area but instead staying in their campground. When sleeping in a single man tent your feet hang out of the tent (which I can NEVER), but anyways she sees the shape of a person standing over her tent just looking at her. Then she starts to hear what sounds like a knife being dragged across her tent. The daughter stated that she just knew that her life depended on acting like she was asleep. Then this person starts touching her feet hanging out of the tent! He's just caressing her feet. This goes on for a bit, she is laying absolutely still. Then this person gets up and walks away. She did not leave her tent until she heard her Dad start moving around in the morning and when they both exit their tent. All the food cans that they had put on the camping table was stacked in pyramids. IDK this story scared me so bad! The thought of a stranger caressing you while holding a knife out in the middle of nowhere really terrifies me.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/143o8l6/stranger_with_a_serious_feet_fetish/

TrueScaryStories

Jalyssa143

My Encounter with Flying Saucers

I have a good amount of stories that I could post here since I’ve had a few strange and weird experiences throughout my life despite only being 19 years old. But I don’t think I’ll ever forget this experience despite even convincing myself that this was me possibly having a fever or a realistic dream.. even if the experience felt very, very real. Truthfully I don’t fully believe that this had really happened but I could be wrong, that’s up to you to decide. When I was 7-8 years old, I lived in a small house (that got shot up not even a full week after we moved out) with my mom and my step father and step sister at the time. I had an irrationally strong fear of the dark and since my step father was quite cruel towards me, they liked to keep me paranoid and took away my opportunity to sleep easily by taking away my TV.. which was the only thing that helped me sleep. My mom agreed since she wanted me to get pasted my fear of the dark but I digress. One night, I remember being extra paranoid and scared so I slept in my sister’s room since she had a convenient bunk bed that I could sleep in sometimes. I slept on the top bunk that night and tried sleeping but alas, I was too paranoid even then. It was the middle of the night, if I had to guess what the time was then I’d say it was probably around 1 AM on a school night. I tried distracting myself most of the time until I passed out when I was younger so I tried the same thing that night. I remember seeing a strange light illuminate from the blinds and I immediately took interest.. I thought it was a car at that moment but I was scared of it being a possible stranger trying to stalk up.. since my step sister was in the room, I managed to pull myself together enough to peak through the blinds and see.. not a stranger, and definitely not a car. But a strange, flying saucer that fly nearby my house and above the house across the street. I remembered my eyes widening as I looked around more and saw.. another saucer not too far away from it, slowing floating to the right of my house and in the corner of my eye.. I remember seeing some large hover right above my house. I looked up completely and saw this mammoth of a saucer float over and above my house completely. I couldn’t even see it once it moved more but I remember it having almost a stereotypical light on the bottom of the ship but a strange darker color to the whole thing. One of the smaller ships followed with it and I remember being too scared to run to my moms house in fear that it would be aware of my presence or possibly make the ship provoked into taking me and my family away so they wouldn’t be discovered. So I slowly and hesitantly moved towards the living room to look outside the window to see if it was still around since it floated in said direction and.. it was gone. But our trash can outside had fell over and the sound of distant barking echo’s through the night. I didn’t know what to say or how to feel once it was over. I couldn’t tell even then if I had hallucinated that or if I was dreaming but, I was definitely left speechless at that moment, and I knew that if I told my mother that, she’d just laugh and say “Oh it was just your imagination”. I hadn’t told anybody this story before until now since I can’t sleep and it’s.. 6:30 AM. Despite how real it felt at that moment and how clearly I remember it, I still can’t bring myself to fully believe that happened because of its slight stereotypical look.. but remembering that event so clearly despite barely thinking about it for a few years has left me.. scratching my head again since if that was a dream, how come I didn’t remember any other dreams from when I was a kid? This really is up to Reddit and the people reading this story to guess with this really happened or not.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/1439iiz/my_encounter_with_flying_saucers/

TrueScaryStories

MatthewTheDeity

The same shadow figure has been haunting me since childhood

I’ve always struggled with sleep paralysis since I was a little kid like 5 or 6. I always see the showdowy figure in the left upper corner of whatever room I’m in. Then I feel the weight on my chest like something is sitting on me. For most of my life I could just feel the weight on my chest and nothing more but this past year things took a more physical turn. When it happens I feel hands grabbing at parts of my body almost sexually, and something tried to cover my mouth and my nose to where I can’t breath. sometimes it gets so aggressive I’ll be in pain but I can’t shake myself awake. It goes on for what seems like at least 5 min. Sometimes the only way I can shake myself awake is when my boyfriend hears me breathing violently and he tries to wake me. I want to go see a psychic but idk anyone reputable around where I live in Fort Worth Texas. If anyone knows someone please comment and let me know, sometimes I’m genuinely scared it’s going to kill me in my sleep.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/142l4mi/the_same_shadow_figure_has_been_haunting_me_since/

TrueScaryStories

Ohyourichrichh

Mannequin in The Basement

I was a toddler, no more than three years old when my family and I lived in a small rented house in Vermont. There are a few things I remember about it, a spiral staircase, a large field (Well, my three year old self thought it was large.) the cold cement floor in my bedroom and a part of the house that I was strangely drawn to, the basement. I was (and still am) a wanderer and I also didn't mind being alone. Both of those qualities made the basement a sort of getaway. I wasn't allowed down there by myself but a handful of times, I was able to sneak my way down there. I remember crawling down the stairs like they were a ladder, being overly cautious of falling as I had done before. Sometimes I would hear mumbling coming from somewhere in the basement but it was too quiet for anything to be discernable. When I got to the last step and turned around I would see her over in the corner, a mannequin with blonde hair and with an expressionless face. All I would think is she looked like the mannequins in JC Penney or K-Mart. I never once thought it was odd she was there. Some basements have exercise equipment, we had a mannequin. Years later, and living in a different home I decided to bring this up to my mom. "Why would we have a store mannequin in our basement?" My mother just gave me a strange look then laughed and said "We never once had a mannequin in any of the places we've lived in." To this day, I have no idea what it was that I saw.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/1427yrs/mannequin_in_the_basement/

TrueScaryStories

Elle12881

Knock In The Night

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/14265s0/knock_in_the_night/

TrueScaryStories

Ok-Razzmatazz246

Elementary school shenanigans pt.2

This is the continuation of my previous post! 4. Dark figure This, strangely, happened on a hot summer day. We were outside by the football field and in the distance, by the gym building, we saw some kind of a shadow man. It was entirely black and had white glowing eyes. All of us saw it, so it was definitely there. It didn't seem to move, it just stood there. We also weren't very freaked out by it, since there were plenty of kids around, but still it was strange. Although I've seen shadow figures in the daylight after that too, it never was as clear as that one. 5. Just random things We saw a lot of strange stuff around. Our things would dissapear, we saw the trashcans outside of the school move and also found something living under them, probably an animal, I don't know. I saw a strange white spot in our pitch black basement (could've been anything, given that my eyesight was deteriorating back then). Tatiana saw a lot of strange stuff, although most of it was probably made up. I was kind of an outcast back then, so I was glad to be included in this. I think that's all, as I've said before, my memory is pretty bad. Thank you for reading my silly story. I also have actual paranormal experiences, so I'll probably post about them too. Oke baiiii

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/141qt4y/elementary_school_shenanigans_pt2/

TrueScaryStories

val_creese

Wake Up Screaming

While recovering from heart surgery in a hospital I was dreaming. I was in a huge dimly lit opera house. I was in my seat high up on one side. I look around and see the theater is empty except for one robed, hooded person far across from me on the other side, slightly lower down. They're looking up directly at me. This pisses me off. Here I am in my dream, and this robed person is in it and staring at me. Being my dream, I kick my skateboard up and on it I fly full speed through the air directly at him yelling "this is my fucking dream!" I plan on driving my shoulder into him but just as I reach him he stands and opens his arms, I fall backward feet above me down, down. Down a 50ft wide, dimly lit circular hole. Slowly falling down I see a staircase attached to the sides of the wall. The staircase is full of sad dead tortured souls all ambling down the stairs. As I fall backwards down the hole I wake up screaming in a hospital ward.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/141q1uj/wake_up_screaming/

TrueScaryStories

BikeTireManGo

I almost got hit by a semi-truck

I don’t know if this story belongs on this sub, but here it is: I was driving to school at around 8:40 AM. It’s a 40 minute drive and 20 minutes of it is straight down one road that is 55 MPH and has three lanes. It was called a “highway” but it wasn’t really a highway. It’s hill country where I live, so the road constantly went up and down in elevation. I was on this road when I came up over a hill. I was going about 65 MPH, maybe 70, but when I got over the hill, I slowed to 60 MPH because I noticed an 18-wheeler in the middle lane in front of me, practically stopped in the road. There was a crossover car behind it as well, going slow with it and blocking the back of the truck. I was driving in the middle lane too, so I started to switch to the left lane to pass the truck and car. There was construction for a median on the “highway”, so in the left lane, there were construction workers right beside the road. When I saw this, I switched my blinker to the right side, because it’s habit to move out of the way when I see an unprotected person on the side of the road. I’m still going 60 MPH while this 18-wheeler is dead stopped in the middle of the road, so this is all happening very fast. I get in the right lane a little before coming up on the truck, and as soon as I get beside the car stuck behind the truck, I see the 18-wheeler’s right blinker is on. I almost slammed on my breaks, but I kept going because, again, I’m going 60 MPH, he’s completely stopped, I was gonna get past him in less than a second, but as soon as I got to the edge of the back of the truck, the truck started getting into the right lane. So what do I do? Well I swerve onto the grass and ditches (there was no shoulder on the road) at 60 mph. I have a Nissan Altima coupe, and I have less than 2 years of driving experience. My coupe made it through the ditches completely unharmed, and I did too, pulling back onto the road at 40 MPH, then slowing down and pulling over to regain my composure and cry. What scared me the most is that I didn’t have a seatbelt on, and I would’ve most likely died if he hit me, or if my car flipped from going in a ditch so fast. But someway, somehow, this 18 year old girl whipped her car professionally (completely inexperienced on how to do it) to save her life. I blame this one on God, because there’s no way I was able to do that by myself. Now I have slight ptsd from it and will not ride on the right side of 18-wheelers… or without a seatbelt.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/1415pqn/i_almost_got_hit_by_a_semitruck/

TrueScaryStories

CheapChampionship775

Shadow figure

When I was around 10 my sister wanted me to sleep in her room. She had a twin bed on both side of the room one facing the closet and the other facing the door. I wanted to sleep on the one facing the closet because it had a bunch of plushies but she insisted I sleep on the one facing the door so I did. When I woke up in the middle of the night to use the washroom, I saw 3 figures standing at the door. The middle one being the tallest, I just closed my eyes then opened it and they were gone so I got up to use the washroom. I wasn't afraid, after that I knew why she wanted me to sleep in her room. My sister still sees spirits to this day but I think that has to do with fear, they feed off of it. She says when I'm around nothing happens, other people say that too like there is a aura around me. Idk I just ignore and not fear the spirits and they don't bother with me only when I'm asking for it haha

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/140b2kx/shadow_figure/

TrueScaryStories

Mean_Text5088

I’m in desperate need of an explanation before I drive myself crazy trying to figure it out on my own.

I’m just now being told this story myself so bare with me as I may leave a few details out. I’ll try my best. My mother & I have been sitting here, talking about how the house we live in & the property itself are just downright creepy. Some weird, unusual, & sometimes unexplainable things happen around here. This is just one example. A few weeks ago, my mother was coming home after a long day of dealing with her, now ex boyfriend. I wasn’t home, at the time of this incident. Anyways, she pulls in the driveway & before she’s even able to react or notice, my beloved cat, Tink, runs out in front of her & she hits him.. Freaking out because she knows how devastated I’ll be, she gets out to check on him, but he tries to get up & run, but collapses. She tries everything, but he dies.. Or so she thinks.. He had no pulse & wasn’t breathing. Her not knowing what to do at the time, she takes him & buries him beside our building, dreading telling me the news. Roughly 10 days later, he reappears out of nowhere. Unhurt, solid white (as usual) without a trace of dirt on him. The hole where he was buried looks like there was never a hole dug there, to begin with. Someone please help me try & find some type of explanation. I’m going crazy trying to figure it out on my own.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/1404bsa/im_in_desperate_need_of_an_explanation_before_i/

TrueScaryStories

Direct-Tackle-8587

I might have escaped something horrible

So..it has been a few years since this happened and I still dont know what to make of it. I was a 22yf I went out with some friends, got really drunk and ended up stranded in a city I’m not familiar with. Lost my friends, phone battery had died. I was alone. This was all happening around 4 in the morning. I was frantic and crying, obviously drunk. I was talking to 2 guys who were trying to help me. Then another guy interrupts them and tells me he talked to my friends and that they have left. He offers me a ride home saying he is a taxi driver and eases the 2 guys helping me. The drunk and desperate to go home me totally believes him. When I get inside his car I dont see the usual taxi gear. It rings alarm bells but we have alot of unofficial taxi drivers here. So I let it go. We drive and are talking normally. I notice that were are not driving towards a highway like we were supposed to. I ask about it and he says something along the lines of a extra stop. We start to drive into wooded areas and my fear was rising by the second. He eventually parked in a secluded area covered by trees and bushes. I told him that I felt very uncomfortable and that I would like to leave. He says not to worry. This part always gets my heart beating when thinking back about it; It was quiet in the car. I slowly and quietly tried to open my door. Heart pounding like crazy. It was locked. He heard me and said “you’re not getting out” I tell him again that I wanna leave. He says that I dont have to worry and that he is gay. I try to spin the situation and connect with him on that and talk about other random stuff acting like im his friend. He weirdly strokes my whole upper leg one time. I tell him im taking drivers lessons. And we talk about me driving in his car for a bit. He starts the car, drives to a public area and unlocks the car so we can switch. I immediately ran for my life unto a bus lane. I waved my hands frantically to an upcoming bus and they picked me up and called the police. I still don’t know what happened. Did he have bad intent? Did he just chicken out? He definitely lied about my friends etc. But he also was willing to let me drive his car and “just let me go”? I filed a police report but nothing came of it. This is my first time writing something like this so sorry if i wasnt clear.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/13zoxh8/i_might_have_escaped_something_horrible/

TrueScaryStories

Due_Personality6503

I think something lives in my bush

Once, my friends and I went into a bush on my mother's property hoping to make a dumb short horror film for my YouTube. When we went, we heard a laugh about 25 minutes in (But everyone was grouped around the camera). We also all felt an eerie feeling. We went to exit and saw a spade, bag of soil, and a circle of stones I went in again when my friends left. I heard loud laughs as soon as I went in sprinted out and never went back again.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/1402mup/i_think_something_lives_in_my_bush/

TrueScaryStories

Tylernz2009

my forest horror story

I've been thinking about posting this for a long time and I figured I should put it here even though I don't know how this app works but after seeing a Mr ballen video with an eerily similar story to mine this video: https://youtu.be/kkFuZ-_sPP8 where I had the almosy same location and same figure I knew it was time to share it even if no one sees this I just need it off my back. Another reason that I haven't posted this yet is to put it quite frankly I'm not a reliable source, I'm bipolar and I've been known to hallucinate so it's be fair if you didn't believe me, but I did have my cousin with me and she verified everything I saw but still the decision is up to you. This was in the summer or near fall of 2022 me, 19 non binary and my dad took a trip to Oregon for a camping trip & memorial of my godfather. For context, my godfather was my aunt's husband and he died the same time in 2021 and we had a funeral in Oregon but it was essentially ruined when the guy we chose to speak for it implied my godfather was in hell and tried to turn us all to Christianity or else we would end up like him. So we decided to have a second one that was smaller and more intimate with less than half the amount - mostly family, taking place at a campground where my godfather and aunt went many times and had fond memories there. So, from Denver to Oregon, my dad and I flew and stayed at my aunts for a few days before making the trip up to Lewis and Clark Park in Washington, close to Oregon. We met up with another group of my family from Maui & Idaho. I remember the drive up, it was through a bright green thick forest that made me nervous being so far from anything, but I guess that's the charm too. I hadn't gone camping for a long time, so after helping put up the tent and a good meal, I asked my dad for a whiteclaw, which he granted, I only had one, though. After a while, I felt good and chaotic, so after dancing with my younger cousins, it got dark and me and one of my closer cousins, 14, went off into the forest to summon demons. Okay, so you might be thinking "wtf" but look, I don't actually believe in demons, and I didn't think it would work. It was just to be scary and rebellious. So we sat down in a small clearing near a path where my cousin took a bath and body works candle, lit it, and put it between us. I began mystical waving my hands over it, and spouting gibberish I reckoned was similar to chanting. We had a good laugh, then moved on and went back to the sight. Later in the night when everyone else went to sleep me and my cousin decided to summon demons but be more real this time, I looked up a demon summoning spell that had a good looking latin chant and even though we had none of the materials except the candle and a hotdog bun to sacrifice we still spoke it and burned the hotdogs bun but after nothing happened we shrugged it off and just went to talking. We talked about anything and everything for hours until I started feeling really bad. I can't really explain it well it's like anxiety, the kind where it feels like a weight is in your stomach and it's harder to breathe. I felt like we were being watched, which was fair since we were surrounded by dark dense forests. I began flashing my light around, not exactly looking but looking to make sure something wasn't there. My cousin picked up on my fear and looked around too, and now we had two beams of light pointed into the forest. I began to feel a little better as there was nothing immediate until I pointed my flash up. That's when I saw it. A creature. Pale white maybre grey with dark void-like eyes staring at us perched like a monkey on a high branch in a spruce tree. I froze. I went through everything in my mind. Was this because we summon demons? We didn't even do it right... Was this some kind of animal? It can't be, it looks too humanoid. It looks exactly like those skin walker pictures you can find on creepy forums, but it was right there in front of me. Was I hallucinating? Again, I have been known to hallucinate, but I never had before so vividly. Then I remembered my cousin. If they saw it, then it was definitely real, and I'm not hallucinating, so I told my cousin to look up where my flashlight was pointing. They froze, too. "Do you see that?" I asked. I can't remember exactly what my cousin said, but it was something like "What is that?" Or "It looks like a demon." Still, I needed more proof they were seeing the same thing. "What color is it?" I asked. "White." They said. That was more than enough for me. We began to rush away, taking the candle and running to the area where the tents were, I would look behind me and see the figure was now on the ground standing tall, at least 5 feet, it was tall and skinny. Every time I looked back, it would seem to stop, but when I would look again, it would be standing closer, making its way to us. My group and her group set up tents on different paths on the campground, far enough where I felt like we could make it if we ran and didn't look back. I stopped my cousin, where our paths diverged, and told her to run straight to her tent before counting down. "One, two, three!" I said, and ran to my tent and didn't look back. I made it to my tent and accidentally woke my father, who said, "What were you guys doing? You were keeping the whole camp up!" But I didn't want to elaborate. "I'll tell you in the morning." I said, climbing into my sleeping bag. Then and there, I felt okay, I was now surrounded by family, and surely nothing would get me with them around. I texted my cousin to make sure they got back alright, and they did, so I settled for the night, but i didn't get right to sleep. My uncle scared me a bit when he went up to go to the bathroom, and for the whole night I kept hearing this noise right outside my tent it was like a small animal was digging and fumbling around and whenever I would move it would go away. It was right near my head, and it was scaring the shit out of me, but I eventually got to sleep when it mostly stopped. I woke up the next morning and almost immediately headed back to the fire pit where me and my cousin and I were when we saw the figure. It was bright out so I figured I can look in the space i saw it in and could figure out if it really had been an animal or maybe some kind of bird nest but I saw nothing like that, in fact, what I saw was almost a clearing on the exact branch it was on, like something big had been there, like it had been there. When my cousin woke, we confirmed we saw the same thing in the same spot. So what do you think? Was it some kind of skinwalker creature from the forest? Did we accidentally summon a demon with our bogus ritual via hotdog bun? Did we both hallucinate the same thing? Was it an animal? Guess we'll never know.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/13yvxx5/my_forest_horror_story/

TrueScaryStories

Zealousideal_Draw715

My dog saw something and I don't know what to do

As the title says, my dig a Has seen something, this happened just moments ago and I'm genuinely scared , I only ask for guidance My home is old, built during the time of slaves by a family member, he sadly did own slaves, infact he was known for being violent twords them, but I thought this was all behind us until now, when my dog ( a lab and pit bull mix ) stood infront of me and started to growl and bare her teeth, it scared me as she is a sweet dog who doesn't bark much less show her teeth , I tried to get out of my room but she began to circle me not breaking her line of sight with whatever it was she saw, so I was stuck until I heard and saw my door slam and she began to whimper and try to get me to Pick her up I climbed out my window into the garden and we've been watching the windows as I type this, she is shaking like hell and I'm not sure what to do, this isn't the first time this has happened but this time I couldn't ignore it, it's my first time seeking help for this and I'm afraid maybe next time Lola won't be here to protect me. UPDATE : things have calmed down, I have felt it's eyes on me all day today as I've cleaned today but it hasn't acted up yet, I've taken advice I was given but when I shouted prayers it began to slam doors and windows open and closed until I had stopped, I've begun to use them as a sort of punishment for it, I appreciate all the help I've received, if I can bring myself to I will update on this but I'm not sure

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/13yug2g/my_dog_saw_something_and_i_dont_know_what_to_do/

TrueScaryStories

ObjectivePrice978

Cemetery leaves a gift.

I would like to start out saying I’m not a good writer i’m miserable at spelling and punctuation hopefully you can follow the story. I’m from a small town in Iowa around 7,000 people. When you grow up in small town you become really resourceful at finding things to do for fun. You make the most of the fun you have while having it. Urban legends are plentiful and always fun to hear! I don’t live to far from our capital city. As I got older I started venturing in to the city I made a lot of friends and they loved hearing stories of growing up in such a small town and found the things we did for fun wild. They would beg me to take them to a cemetery that is about 40 min from my house. It’s a place that I had only been a handful of times. I will admit durning the daytime it’s very innocuous (I know the area somewhat well as I’ve hunted out there and been on a few late night drives out there.) But by night time it becomes very creepy. I will state this now I’m not into the supernatural if something creepy happens to me I look for A logical explanation! If you tell me a haunting story I’ll roll my eyes! But there is no explanation for this. So one evening some friends from the city call me they want to go to this Cemetery they want me to take them out there. I agree so they make it down to me around 8pm this is in mid fall so it’s somewhat dark by this time. We stand around having a few smokes and catching up with one and other there are 5 of us. Around 9pm we leave. Part of the trip in on paved highway but the rest is on limestone, gravel roads about 6 maybe 10 miles at most to the graveyard. We took my friends new car at the time it was a couple months old it was a reddish maroon Pontiac G6. If you have ever drove on a limestone gravel road your car gets covered in a fine white dust. We make it to cemetery. The entrance is a large cast iron gate we go in I show them the headstone it’s very large from the early 20th century and it has a very creepy saying on it (something like where you are now I once was and soon you’ll be where I am) since this I’ve found out it’s pretty common on old headstones. My friends are in agreement yeah that is really creepy! They ask if anything has ever happened to me out here? No not really. My car once overheated driving by. But that’s about it. now this grave stone sets in the last row facing west and to the south maybe 50 yards are a whole row of children’s graves small little grave stones just big enough to fit a name on them. “Well, urban legend says if you run between those gravestones zigzagging through them you will die” my friend starts talking trash, telling me that’s the dumbest thing he’s ever heard of! He yells not afraid of any stupid dead babies! I said, I don’t know man I always heard that so and so did it and they were dead a week later. He tells me I’m an idiot. He starts running through them gets halfway says he could care less about the supposed curse, but doesn’t complete the whole run and comes walking back we joked with him and ask him if he’s too scared to do it he said yes I got creeped out halfway through. We went back to the entrance had a few smokes shot the breeze for a minute. I was ready to leave I hadn’t had dinner and I was hungry it’s around 11 pm we head back to the town I live in. on the south side of the town there is a McDonald’s I pull in and we Head in to have dinner when we leave the car was under A street light and the car was well lit when we get up to it and a friend noticed there were small hand prints all over the car no fewer than 20 they were the size of a two year olds, but not all were the same size but all were very small. They were on top of the trunk on top of the roof. You can see them because they were outlined in the dust from the gravel road. I remember looking really close and you can clearly see fingerprints in the white dust highlighting everything creases fingerprints is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. There is no explanation If they were there before we went out, they would’ve been covered by the dust we couldn’t figure out how a kid would’ve got on top of his car. There’s no kids around where the owner of the car lived. Nothing. We tried to come up with any reason that they would be there, but nothing made sense. I told my friend that ran through the graves, he better watch out! to this day if you Bring it up to him he won’t hear a word of it he will leave the room or get angry that you brought it up and we’re close to 20 years since I was happened.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/13ypo8r/cemetery_leaves_a_gift/

TrueScaryStories

Odd_Part8074

Hearing familiar voices (copy and pasted from a youtube reply i did)

I've had only about 2 events of this type of paranormal activity happen in my life. One was when i was a kid living in a supposed haunted house (my family and i believed) and one not too long ago when i was living in a house for a long time with no paranormal activity at all prior to this. In that last event i remembered hearing my older brothers voice call out to me from his bedroom which wasn't too far from where i was at near the kitchen in a normal volume. At the time my brother had moved out to live on his own but he would occasionally visit or just come over to pick stuff up so i didn't really think much when i heard him call out to me like he normally says it "boy". I walked over to his bedroom only to see it was empty and i was very shocked because it really sounded like him not in a ghostly manner but like he was there. I started to get his feeling that i was not alone at that moment even though none of my family members were home, I booked it fast to my parents bedroom and locked myself in and pulled the bedsheet over me... I was a high schooler at the time but it was just too spooky for me i was scared haha. I told my family about it when they came back and my mom told me that she experienced some spooky lights turned on in my other brother's bedroom morning around 4-5am. Me and my older brother theory was that all these weird activities was because of a long antique mirror that my dad found and brought home. It only happened during the time that we had it and all these werid events stopped happening after we got rid of it (not because we suspected it was haunted but because it took up space). As far as hearing mimick voices, that could've been in my head since there was noone else in the house that experienced it but me .It just so happened to occure right when other spooky things happened with my family during that time with that creepy mirror... either way ghost or not it makes for a good story that i tell once in awhile haha.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/13xb974/hearing_familiar_voices_copy_and_pasted_from_a/

TrueScaryStories

anthonysocool

It followed

Hey guys it's been awhile since I last spoke It's been an eventful time for sure but If you have any questions feel free to ask I just had to share this experience burnt into my mind it feels like yesterday it happened just prepare yourself it's a wild ride I'd like to say off the bat I've always been superstitious person ever since I was a kid things I can only describe as not of our world seemed to happen around me from items disappearing and reappearing out of what seems like nowhere to having the feeling of being watched when nobody is there I wish I could say I've slowly gotten used to it over the years but it never gets any less chilling even since my family moved to a small farm area in the country it was a nice enough area and I had met a friend who was interested in all things supernatural and weird soon after I moved and we clicked immediately he is what you would describe as a guy living life on the edge we will call him Harry from here on out you see Harry loved the paranormal and was interested in experiences with it of course I told him about strange things I've seen since I was younger now this was my first mistake I'll tell you why you see Harry recently came in possession of an Ouija board and was excited to try it out and my family just so happens to be away for the next week so of course he begged me to do a session with him to which I eventually caved and told him I'd help him so we ended up setting up the board next to this lake near our houses (still don't understand why) it was around 10pm we set it up and Harry had attempted to summon something from the other side while I watched and waited nervously at first nothing seemed to happen so he told me to join in and help him and to stop being a coward this annoyed me so I had to join in but as soon as I had sat down and put my hand on the board the feeling I can only describe as the feeling of being watched had washed over me I projected to Harry what I was feeling to which he immediately dismissed so we continue the game harry asking simple questions and getting no answers after about 30 minutes with nothing I begin to think my feeling was simply my nerves toying with me until I decided to finally ask a question "is there anyone here" to which the piece slowly moved to yes we were shocked harry and I looked at each other asking if either of us moved it and to not play around but neither of us had moved it of our own volition this seemed to excite Harry even more and told me to ask more questions so i did we asked this entity if it used to live here it said "no" Harry decided to ask "did you die here?" It shifted to "no" again and then asked "do you want to hurt us?" The piece almost violently moved to "yes" at the same time I hear what can only be described as a massive splash from what could only be 50 metres away which startled me as I accidentally took my hands off the board this was my second mistake after this we didn't get anything else from the board but could feel something staring at us it was so intense we said goodbye and packed up the board and went home I honestly thought that would be the end of it let me tell you that couldn't be further from the truth the feeling of being watched only got worse when I got home so ensuring everything was locked and latched was my first concern as the feeling started to subside I decided to call it a night and went to bed somehow falling asleep pretty easily only to be woken up an hour later from a loud banging at my back door? Of course I go to investigate and try and peek around the windows to try and see who it is but all I see is pitch black darkness so building up all my courage I head to the back door and call out "who are you? Why are you trespassing on my property?" At first there's no reply just loud banging I threatened to call the police if they didn't leave that was when the banging stopped and something spoke it sounded like my friend but it wasn't I don't know how to describe it the voice was exactly like Harry's but distorted somehow telling me to "open the door" over and over again in the calmest voice I didn't know what to do so I decided to open the door but I left the latch in by mistake so it only opened part of the way I apologised to who I thought was Harry but when the door opened there was nobody there I quickly closed and locked the door and turned on the back lights to get a better view but there was nothing so I grab my phone and give Harry a call preparing to give him an earful for scaring me and to never go through the backyard again only to have it ring out multiple times until being met with a groggy tired voice on the other side wondering why I woke him up so I asked him if he was at my house just then only to be told "no I've been asleep" and "I'm talking nonesence I'll speak to you in the morning" after hanging up I remember sitting in the kitchen completely shook for what felt like hours eventually calming down enough to try and get some sleep at this point it was around 2am as I was attempting to sleep after all the weirdness the air felt odd as if it was both hot and cold at the same time i fell asleep shortly after only to experience something I haven't felt before it was like I was falling at the same time losing my breath like I was drowning in some endless sea to be pulled back to what felt like reality only I couldn't move? Not my head or even my arms but I managed to move my eyes it was almost like I was in a trance as my eyes adjusted to the familiar look of my room I could feel my heart rate increasing as all I could do was look around and I saw it... I've never seen something so horrifying it's body was slender almost like a skeleton with inhumanely long arms but that's not the worst part oh my god the face I'll never forget it as long as I live it's eyes were sunken and black and it's mouth was open so wide almost like a snake showing what looked like hundreds of teeth of different shapes and sizes just standing in my room staring at me I couldn't scream I couldn't run all I could do was stare as this thing slowly approached my bed with impossibly heavy footsteps almost like the floor would break at any moment I couldn't help it I closed my eyes in fear as the footsteps just stopped I waited for what felt like forever to nothing it was then I opened my eyes to see this thing hunched over me inches from my face at that point I was certain I would not see the morning as this thing said my name in the voice of my friend that was when it all went dark as i could feel the breathe leaving my body it suddenly stopped as I woke up on the floor in a cold sweat terrified of what happened all I could do was cry I have left that house since currently at a family members house for the past two months whatever that thing was I haven't seen it since but I truly hope I never see that thing again.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/13x1gwj/it_followed/

TrueScaryStories

spazzgamer01

Butterfly Collection

This story is about a haunted apartment my parents lived in when they were first married. It was a small one bedroom apartment in Vermont. They made friends with their downstairs neighbors who consisted of another young couple and their son who was around 5 years old. My mom eventually ended up babysitting the boy on a regular basis. She always would hear him talking to a supposed imaginary friend about wanting to see a butterfly collection. Everytime he came over, he would always ask his imaginary friend, Mr. Edwards to show him his butterfly collection. They just chalked it up to the kid being weird. Odd things would happen in the apartment as well. While my parents never actually saw things being physically moved, they would set items down and discover it laying somewhere else. One night my mom had a horrible nightmare. In her dream, she was standing in a dark room and heard growling coming from behind her. She turned around to see a German shepherd running at her, snarling and teeth gnashing. She said it seemed the dog was running almost in slow motion at first but was quickly gaining speed. If this wasn't terrifying enough for her, the dog's eyes were missing, with two black eye sockets being in their place. My mom woke up in a cold sweat, screaming. My dad worked nights so there was no one to comfort her after the traumatic nightmare. My parents went to pay their rent to the landlord and they mentioned the strange happenings in the apartment. "Oh that's probably just Mr. Edwards." My parents were shocked to hear that name as they had also heard the young boy talk to a Mr. Edwards. That wasn't the end of the coincidences though. Mr Edwards owned a butterfly collection. He was blind and owned a seeing eye dog. The dog was a German Shepherd. My parents moved out a month later. Update: After speaking with my dad there is another piece of information that makes this story a little bit creepier. The five year old my mom was babysitting not only talked to an invisible Mr. Edwards, he appeared to hold his invisible hand as well! While walking around the apartment he would regularly hold his hand up as if he was holding hands with an adult.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/13v8kcl/butterfly_collection/

TrueScaryStories

Elle12881

Ghost story passed around my village since the 1940's -- concerns "Old Monastery Pool"

There is a place near my village that I am too afraid to visit at night. They say Old Monastery Pool is haunted and that this is the story which proves it. * Just after the Second World War and with rationing still firmly in place, trading any extra food you grew or caught was near necessity. A youth in my tiny Nottinghamshire village known only as *Young Charlie* understood this well. Back in those days Young Charlie could often be found in the Burrell Arms (I actually live there now) trading the trout and eels he’d plucked from local streams for ration stamps. ‘I s’pose you know about Old Monastery Pool,’ one patron asked, as he exchanged a few stamps for one of Charlie’s slender trout. Charlie shook his head. ‘Never heard of it, sir.’ ‘Plenty of big fish in Old Monastery Pool, lad,’ the patron continued. ‘Used to be the monks’ carp pond. They reared ‘em for food hundreds of years ago, it’s up in Glover’s Wood. Trees moved in once the monastery was gone but the pond’s still there.’ Charlie’s interest was piqued. ‘Really? Have you ever fished there?’ ‘Me? Nah. You need Allsopp’s permission else it’s poaching and me and him don’t get on.’ Mr Allsopp was a local landowner, Charlie knew. But, whilst Mr Allsopp apparently had grievance with this man, Charlie had never got on the wrong side of him. ‘How come you know there's plenty of fish if you’ve never fished there?’ ‘Must be,’ answered the patron, after a long swig of ale, ‘else why’d Allsopp have refused all the folk who have asked to fish it. He’s keepin’ all the carp for himself. Miserable bugger.’ * The next Sunday morning there was only one thing on Young Charlie’s mind. Church was the only place he ever saw Mr Allsopp and so that was where he’d get his permission. Old Monastery Pool was full of ancient, monster carp and Charlie was desperate to catch one. ‘Mr Allsopp,’ Charlie asked, after the service, ‘is it true that there’s an old carp pond up in your woods?’ ‘True enough, young man,’ Mr Allsopp answered, as they walked up the narrow church path. ‘It belonged to the old monastery before it was burned down. Why do you ask?’ ‘I was wondering if I might have your permission to fish it, sir. I’d return any fish I caught of course, unless you wanted me to bring them down to the manor.’ ‘I don’t think so,’ Mr Allsopp answered dismissively. ‘Now, I’d best be off, lots to do.’ Charlie was devastated. Fishing was his life, but he’d never had the chance to land anything truly remarkable before. A monster carp would be his crowning achievement and would have the pub talking for years. The next Sunday Charlie beseeched Mr Allsopp again, but got the same answer. So he tried again the following Sunday and was still refused. The Sunday after that he offered to do odd jobs around the manor to pay for his fishing. The Sunday after that he offered all the trout and eels he caught for a month. But, still, Mr Allsopp would not relent. Charlie tried and tried, Sunday after Sunday, never giving up. Eventually, he started calling in on Mr Allsopp at the manor itself. ‘Lord, not you again,’ Mr Allsopp moaned, when Charlie visited the manor for the third time in as many days. ‘I’m just desperate to fish Old Monastery Pool,’ Charlie said, before Mr Allsopp had the chance to usher him away. ‘Please, just say yes and I’ll stop coming here. I’ll never ask anything of you again, I promise.’ ‘The answer is no. I’ve told—’ ‘Why won’t you let me?’ Charlie exclaimed. ‘Why are you being such a grouch?’ ‘Because of the abbot,’ Mr Allsopp barked back. ‘When he refused starving villagers carp after a failed harvest they strangled him and burned down the monastery to try and cover up the murder. He still—’ ‘I don’t care about some dead old abbot,’ Charlie interrupted. ‘I just want one chance to fish the pond. Please, Mr Allsopp, please.’ ‘*Fine*,’ Mr Allsopp answered, throwing his hands in the air, ‘but don’t come crying to me when…’ But Charlie didn’t hear the end of what Mr Allsopp had to say because he was already running back towards his house. * As soon as he had his fishing tackle, Young Charlie raced across the local fields towards Glover’s Wood. What he found in the dying light disappointed him. The pond was easy enough to find but it was clogged with pond weed and full of dead branches. Only a few patches of clear water remained and Charlie thought he could see through them right to the bottom. It seemed that the water was only a few inches deep, hardly the sort of place that might harbour a monster fish. But he had come this far. Charlie chucked out a little stick float and worm, hoping that there might still be a few minnows around, maybe even an eel or two. Almost as soon as his float stood straight in the water it was yanked under with all the ferocity of a colossal pike strike. Charlie’s line snapped instantly but he didn’t care, there was obviously something huge lurking in the pond! Maybe there was deeper water below the weed after all, the perfect hiding place for the giant carp he’d hoped would be there all along. Charlie wound in his loose line, sank back against a tree, reached into his basket and began switching to his most robust tackle. But, in his eagerness, he couldn’t resist a glance back up at the pond. Standing on the other side of the bank amongst the trees, the sinister shape of an old man dressed in tattered, soot-stained robes. He said nothing. He just stared at Charlie through unforgiving, bloodshot eyes. Terrified, Young Charlie shot up from where he was sitting and slammed his head straight into a low branch, knocking himself out. * Night engulfed Young Charlie when he came around. He remembered where he was, what had happened and, his heart racing, sat straight to squint through the gloom. No sign of any old man but, to his horror, the fishing tackle by his side was smashed to pieces. Young Charlie stood and ran without retrieving so much as a broken float. * The above is a story that is endlessly passed around campfires where I grew up. Most of my local ponds are inhabited by mirror carp and, apparently, they’re all descended from carp the monks used to rear in their monastery pond hundreds of years ago. According to local legend, the monastery was burned down when a cruel abbot refused fish to starving villagers after a failed harvest. In doing so the abbot bought death and a terrible curse upon himself. Now he’s doomed to patrol Old Monastery Pool day and night, making sure no villagers try to take his precious fish. [This picture](https://i.redd.it/dm2js4l558o91.jpg) is of the Burrell Arms back in its heyday (last orders was 1952) as well as an old snap of me with a local monastery-descended mirror carp. I have once visited Old Monastery Pool in the daytime and I can report that it is weedy, murky and surrounded by twisted trees and thorny undergrowth. It is certainly an eerie, unsettling place. I don’t mind admitting that I was too creeped out by the pool to stay for very long. On top of that I've always been too scared to visit at night or to throw in a fishing line like Young Charlie did. In fact, I don't know of anyone in the village who's ever fished the pond or been up there at [night](https://linktr.ee/JackCroxall)...

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/13v2p7j/ghost_story_passed_around_my_village_since_the/

TrueScaryStories

mediamusing

My family's secret. Found some gravestones in the woods near my grandparents home

My name is Shinji “新ニ“. This happened to me more than 15 years ago when I was still living in Japan as an elementary school student. Interestingly, the catalyst for this event was the discovery of a porn magazine. Weird I know, just bear with me until the end. My grandparents used to live in a small isolated town called Ogawa-Machi (小川町) in the Saitama Prefecture. My parents and I would visit them often since my parents owned a junkyard nearby. My dad used to buy used cars and sell their parts overseas. I enjoyed visiting the junkyard since it had ample space to play. I especially enjoyed it when my dad bought a used car since I could scavenge inside for coins and other things that the previous owner left behind. I would usually just find trash but when I was lucky I would find some 10 yen coins or sometimes 100 yen coins that I usually ended up using it for drinks in the vending machine. One day I was visiting the junkyard with my parents and a friend from elementary school. Me and my friend were scavenging one of the newly arrived used cars when he hit the jackpot. BAM! We found a porn magazine. We looked at each other and took a peek inside the magazine. We started laughing and when we noticed my parents heading towards us, I hid the magazine deep inside my backpack. We forgot about it and continued with our day. In the evening, I went to my grandparent's house with my parents and my friend to stay for the night. I grabbed my backpack to look for a change of clothes. I dumbed everything on the floor and from the very bottom of my backpack, the magazine fell. I was greeted with some Japanese titties and a bushy beaver. I panicked. I put the magazine back into my backpack and hid it under my bed. It was too risky to keep it in my bag since I never knew when my mom will open it. She might open it just to make sure I didn’t pick up any trash from the junkyard and try to take it home. I was too paranoid to hide it in my grandparent's house as well. I still wanted to look at it of course so I decided that I would take the magazine into the woods located behind my grandparent's house where I can slowly look at it and just hide it there afterward. I told my friend about my plan of hiding the magazine deep inside woods. We were both excited. We wanted to take a look at the magazine but also venturing into the woods at night sounded like an exciting adventure. That night when everyone was sleeping, I grabbed the magazine and a flashlight and me and my friend snook out of my room's window. (I made sure to leave the window open beforehand just to make sure to not make a sound when everyone was asleep) I would probably be scared if I was by myself. But with my friend by my side, I was excited and eager to go into the woods for an adventure. My grandparents never let me go into the woods. Not even during the day which made no sense to me. So this was actually my first time venturing deep into the woods. We both took a deep breath and sneaked into the woods. We walked for just about a couple of minutes when we found a big tree. We hid behind it and took our time looking at the magazine. After enjoying ourselves for about 30 minutes or so looking at them Japanese titties, we decided that we had enough and it was time to find a place to hide it. It was hard to find a place to hide it since the entire woods looked the same. Most trees were of the same kind and size. There was nothing we could use as a marker to hide it. After looking for a while, curiosity got the better of us so we decided to go way deeper into the woods. The deeper we hid it the better we thought. We could kinda see the town lights far away so we knew which direction to go back to if we ventured too far inside. We walked for a couple of minutes making sure to look back once in a while to see if we can see the town lights to make sure we knew which way to head back to. We were about to give up on finding a good place since we were so tired. I told my friend that he could keep the magazine so we should head back. As we were about to head back, I noticed something white on the ground. After careful inspection, we noticed that it was just a receipt from the supermarket. However, we found it weird since it meant that someone has been here. We looked around to see if we found something else but we found nothing except for some stones. Finding some stones may seem normal, but we noticed that it was the first time we saw some stones in these woods. We walked towards it and grabbed a couple of them thinking that we could maybe use it as a marker to identify where we hid the magazine. However, as we walked towards it we noticed some more stones further away. We walked towards the next set of stones and noticed more stones further away. It seemed to us like someone was using the stones as breadcrumbs to mark a trail. ​ We kept following the stones until we finally reached an open area. The first thing we noticed was the three big stones with carvings on it. The carvings were some Japanese symbols(kanji) that I could not read. The only kanji I could read was "二” which symbolized the number "2". I was able to read it since numbers are one of the first kanji you learn in school. Oddly enough, all three of the stones had the kanji "2" on them. Also, we noticed that one of the stones had some flowers, a small glass container of milk, and a small car toy next to it. Even as kids, we knew that this was some kind of gravestone. We were absolutely terrified that we both run back in the same direction we came from. We reached my grandparents' home and snook into the window of my room. We made some noise which woke up my parents. They came rushing inside our room asking what happened. They noticed that we had our dirty shoes on and realized that we were outside. We were so terrified that we told them the truth. Surprisingly, they were not mad at us. They just stayed with us until me and my friend fell asleep. The next day, my friend went back home. My parents did not talk about what happened the night before. They just acted as if nothing happened. I never went back to my grandparents' house again after that. I also knew that my mother was having frequent discussions with my grandmother. After a while, me and my family moved overseas. I did not mention it before but I have two sisters. One older than me and one younger.I forgot about all these until I was around 15 or 16 years old. It was around this age that my parents told me I was adopted. It was a shock but I love my parents and still consider them my real parents. Honestly, it kind of made sense since I had curly hair and double eyelids unlike my parents and my sisters who had straight hair and single eyelids. I know most people are expecting a step-sibling erotic situation but nothing like that happened.I had also noticed something about my family. Everyone from my mother's side was female. My mother had a little sister but no brother. My aunt (mom's little sister) had two daughters. I also noticed something very interesting. My mothers name is 一禾 (Ichika) and my aunts name is 三久 (Miku). My mom's name contains the kanji "一” symbolizing the number "1". My aunt's name has the kanji "三" which symbolizes the number "3". I didn't think too much of it until one day it hit me. I realized that the carvings on the tombstones were names. The gravestones on my grandparent's woods all contained the kanji "二”　symbolizing the number "2". Probably symbolizing the second offspring. Also, the car toy placed next to one of the gravestones probably meant that the gravestone was made for a boy. This meant that my mom probably had a younger brother with the kanji "二” on his name symbolizing he was the second offspring. My aunt probably had another son that passed away as well .The three tombstones now made sense. One for grandparents' son, one for my aunt's son, and one for my mother's son. It seems that the second offspring in my family is always a male and he always passes away. Another creepy thing I noticed was my name. My name is Shinji. In kanji it's "新二”. "新” means "New" and as mentioned before "二” means "2". Finally, I just wanted to say that my sister got married a couple of years ago and had a daughter named Kazumi “一美”. She says she wants more children. I am not sure if I should let her know about my discovery. Please advice.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/13uwtaz/my_familys_secret_found_some_gravestones_in_the/

TrueScaryStories

Warm_Still_2049

I 3D Printed Myself a Girlfriend. I Don't Think She Enjoys it that much.

It started with loneliness and boredom. As most horrendous things I do start, Sunday nights make me feel particularly lonely - I live sort of in the middle of nowhere, the only company I get is crickets chirping and the occasional truck roaring with some insane death metal. Both of these are quite the opposite of the soft gentle voice that a girlfriend would have. I however didn’t have one of those. I know - typical redditor stuff, but I was actively trying to change that. Skincare routines and Sleep schedules can only help ya so much right? I mean I must have been missing out on something. And the loneliness gets to you, especially if your last girlfriend was with you fifteen years ago. The silent nights of just doom scrolling and strolls in the middle of bumfuck nowhere were sort of getting to me. Now being a redditor, I had also pondered the thought of a sex doll. Nothing to really be ashamed of for sure, but still not the best on the conscience. If I really wanted to fuck plastic and silicone, I would have done so a while ago - maybe even strap an AI to its head for that sweet sweet emotional support. But no, I still wasn’t ready to be that pathetic. At least that’s what I thought. A week ago, I noticed an ad on some random internet forum, it was a pop up one, akin to the ‘HOT MILFS IN YOUR AREA’ type of ads from some generic website along the lines of neck romance.je. I was about to scroll past it when I noticed something interesting. Out in the right corner of that square ad , it said in a crisp, clean font - 3D printed girlfriend - Feels just like the REAL THING! Added Emotional Support! What really caught my eye was the bottom text. It said something to the effect of being able to get a refund within seven days. Which was pretty unusual - The general company wouldn’t want your jizz and sweat returned back to the sender. This had to be something different. I violated my instincts and clicked on the link. It took me to a jarring neon green webpage. Just a single button ORDER NOW 60$ - CASH I clicked on it, I could cut back on the cigarettes for a week or two if I could get a girlfriend. And I could smoke packs more after the refund if she wasn’t what I wanted. The low-price tag rung several alarm bells in my head- but I was too excited to care. I would forever regret clicking that button, but a week older and much hornier me would have no clue. I went back to watching whatever pathetic show I was binging and thought nothing of it. I woke up to a series of rapid knocks, separated from each other at irregular time intervals. The LED clock above the door flashed 2 AM. I grabbed the pistol that usually sat under my bed. I should have used it on myself, but I wouldn’t know that then. The digital display showed me a tall man on the other side of the door- wearing a suit and a tie. In his hands was what seemed to be a box with some sort of metal brick thing. He didn’t seem hostile. Against my better instinct I opened the door. What the fuck ma- Your order, Sir. Which one? The 3D printed Girlfriend, Sir? Why the fuck would you be out here delivering it at 2 in the fuckin morning, my guy? My pistol was still hidden under my back, maybe I should have shot it then. You ordered it at odd hours, we delivered within forty-five minutes! Now if you’ll follow me to the assembly point! I looked at him, he seemed perfectly normal like a regular delivery guy - with a suit and tie, and a box with something metallic in it. He was pointing to a sort of truck in the driveway. My monkeybrain kicked in. Hours of soulless corporate - if I was going to be organ trafficked under the premise of a slightly better titled and returnable sex doll, at least I would die feeling something. I walked behind him and entered the truck. It was empty, almost completely - save for a little box in the back. This is a prototype sir, so you must be okay with some glitches here and there. I nodded along like a fucking idiot, not knowing that sentence was going to be my bane. He pointed to the box, That’s the core - it’ll be placed into the body of the girlfriend, you won’t have to charge it or anything - because of its completely innovative idea. My. Brain. Didn’t. Fucking. Think. To. Ask. What. It. Was. The truck rumbled to a start. The driver showed the suit guy some sort of hand signal. We were cruising dead silent along the small path in the woods, we landed at a sort of fenced area, The delivery guy jumped out with a shovel and the box in hand. I tried to peek out the window but all I could see was an eerie view of the foggy woods. The driver began whistling and walking toward where I was seated. He pulled out a shovel of his own and exited. I should have run then. I remember falling asleep somehow - in all that deathly silence and eeriness. I awoke in my bed. Surely a sort of surreal dream, I thought to myself. Until I turned to the side. A woman lay there. Staring at me with open eyes. I jumped out of bed and reached for the pistol. FUCK It wasn’t there. The woman got up, I mean at least a part of her did - skin and hair fell off along with some other grimy blue liquid. Inhumane Oh, that’s what the fenced post was. A graveyard. I was looking at a corpse. My mind snapped back to the gravity of the situation. In my pocket, where my pistol should have been, was a letter. The woman stared at me, like a corpse reanimated. One Iris twitching rapidly while her neck was convulsing. She crouched her entire spine, taking a wobbly - semi crawl toward me. Her neck hung at an odd angle and shook repeatedly. Good morning, babe! Her voice was surprisingly feminine, nearly human almost - except for the soft gurgling of fluids in her throat when she talked. She wore an oversized shirt, a NIRVANA one. She had these horrible eye bags and these long fingernails. Even I wouldn’t fuck that. NO! Snap out of it you dumb fuck! It took another shaking step, retching blood on my white sheets. Read the letter, Read the letter, Read the letter. REFUNDABLE IN SEVEN DAYS, ATTEMPTED DESTRUCTION OF PRODUCT BEFORE DATE WILL RESULT IN TERMINATION OF CLIENT Fuck Fleshy weave like strips fell off as she stood up. She must have been pretty when she was alive. But now, at 4 in the fucking AM, I didn’t know if I could stand there for a minute more. A tendon shot out from the corpse and latched onto me. Do you want to slow dance?

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/178japj/i_3d_printed_myself_a_girlfriend_i_dont_think_she/

nosleep

Psylockg

I use to LOVE Halloween for it's CANDY until I found one STRANGE piece

When I was kid my favorite holiday was Halloween, it was a day I looked forward to all year round; unlike most kids that anticipated gifts during Christmas all I could ever think about was the candy. To me it was something wondrous to be able walk to a strangers house and ask for a treat, the scary costumes where a just bonus; dressing up like my favorite super hero each year left me feeling deserving of such a delicious sweet. For the most part that wonderment didn't change, each year I would gather with my friends and scour the streets for as much candy as our Halloween containers could hold; usually my friends would get tired before me which I didn't mind, in fact, I figured I was better off without them; more candy for me after all. I would hit a few more houses before deciding to head home but this one particular night I felt a bit more determined, I told myself that if I could just get a few more pieces, that I would be set for the rest of year; the idea of eating the gluttonous treats for months practically made my mouth water so I did something I had never done before and that was, I left my usual neighborhood and visited the houses on the outskirts of town. I imagined unearthing a chest full of undiscovered houses as if I were some 18th century explorer searching for new corners of the earth. My parents always told me to stay close to home, that the people that lived outside our neighborhood were different, that they didn't celebrate Halloween like we did, at the time I didn't give it much thought I just figured my parents were over exaggerating. So I ventured out into the darken roads that seemed to be desolated of any trick or treaters leaving me with the idea that there had to be more delicious unseen treasures all waiting for me to uncover them. I must of walked for about 10 minutes before seeing a house, at first glance I thought my parents were right, from what I saw the lights were off to the crumbling house; no decorations of any kind lay in the front yard; it was clear this house had no candy and for the most part the house seemed to be abandoned. I decided to walk a bit further hoping to find at least one house that was giving out candy; at this point my mind was no longer enthralled with trick or treating instead it was enchanted with the premise of being able to tell my classmates that I alone ventured into the unknown and having one treat would be the evidence that I needed to demonstrate my courage.  As I continued my search the air became heavy, a slight fog skew my vision while the full menacing moon became my one guiding light as I turned corners through the empty dirt roads. My once excitement casually morphed into trepidation as the sounds of the night inundated the lonely space, my heart throbbed with intensity as I finally gave up my excursion and just wanted to go home; wishing I had heeded my parents words. My eyes filled with tears as my fear became overwhelming and I felt like falling over in defeat there in the middle of nowhere while weeping until day light. That's when I finally saw a dim light in the distance, it's dancing glow left me with only one answer, something that I recognized all to well being a Halloween enthusiast; it was from a candle. I slowly treaded closer following the burning flame as if it were my salvation, thinking the light would scare away the imaginary monsters that plagued my thoughts. I could hear the howls and hisses from the night critters that surrounded me only strengthen the closer I got to the burning light, my eyes fixated on providence and as I finally arrived I saw the light was coming from a pumpkin a pumpkin that lay in the middle of a yard in front of another decaying home.  A hideous sight it was, the mouth outstretched in different angles across the face of the withering pumpkin as it's triangular carved eyes displayed absolute malice, the monstrosity was one of the largest pumpkins I've ever seen; it's height alone must of reached my eye level. At this point I wasn't too sure if the desolated night scared me more than the sinister beast that seemed to be smiling at me; I pondered if I should just run home or lay still in hopes that the pumpkin wouldn't magically come to life as I slept. Looking back at the path that I came all I could see was pure darkness a never ending void that journeyed to the deepest realms of emptiness but looking forward I saw hope in the flickering candle that lay still in the gaping mouth of the beast. I decided to curl up next to the ghastly creation as the continue howls from the night sky simmered around me and soon the sound of the gushing wind became a bit therapeutic; it cradling my mind into ease as my eyes seemed to be closing, I felt the land of slumber calling out to me and for that moment I felt comforted. Though that comfort would soon be interrupted as the whipping sound of wind became a bit more insidious and a faint growl mixed into the melancholy music that had been created. My eyes quickly shot open as I stood to my feet looking around for the source of the noise, but it was just more darkness, I grasped at the pumpkin as if it were my protector and soon the faint growl became more evident; whatever was creating the horrid sound was approaching.  'grrrrrrrr, grrrrrrrr, grrrrr' The wet sound of gurgling fluttered in the air as my eyes bounced from corner to corner trying to catch the beast in mid step; preparing myself to run. Finally the abandon home that laid in ruins sprung to life as the front door creaked open and to my horror that sound only became more vivid; it in fact was coming from some devilish entity. "Cannnndyyyyyyyy" the demon shouted out. A grey hand gripped the side of the door as it opened, I froze in place from terror not knowing what options did I really have, scream perhaps? Who would even hear me? So instead I stood in place thinking perhaps I wouldn't be visible to the beast at the angle I was standing, I did my best to steady my trembling body as I held the giant pumpkin even tighter. After several seconds the long pale body of the monster finally was visible, it's eyes seem to glow in the dark while piles of drool fell to the floor from it's frothing mouth.  "Cannnnddyyyy" I shut my eyes tightly pretending to fade away into the midnight sky like a drifting spirit returning to the afterlife to which it belonged to and counted backwards in my head trying to occupy my thoughts to ease the grinding of my teeth knowing the monster would only hear me. "Cannnnddyyyy" That's when I finally could make out what the devil was saying, it was calling out for 'candy'; the beast wanted candy. I could clearly hear the creature was sniffing the air, it's noise making the most grotesque sound as it hunted for it's treat. I lowered my arm from the withering pumpkins face and grasped at my bag of candy, the thing was smelling my treats. I stared at the pumpkins face for several seconds as the revelation of escape had finally manifested itself in my young mind, I was going to throw my bag as far as I could and then run hoping that beast only was really looking for candy. I breathed in with ambition as I exhaled all of my anxiety and by some divine miracle I gathered up the courage to put my plan into action, my small hands clenched the bag tightly as I quietly aimed it over my head and threw it as best I could in the opposite direction of where I stood. The monster acted quick and within seconds it chased after the noise or perhaps the scent as the thing became a mere blur from it's quickness and soon all I could hear were the breaking of branches as it hurled over to the candy. I didn't hesitate, I ran into the abyss that engulfed me hoping I didn't crash into anything, I scurried through the tree line doing my best to navigate through the thick fog. I could still hear the terrific sounds of grunts as I cried thinking how could the beast still be following me to only realize the whimpers were coming from me. I've must of ran for what felt like an hour, I still could hardly see anything, I didn't know what else to do; I was tired and scared. I didn't hear the monster anymore as my breathing calmed and with that I took the opportunity to rest only to fall asleep. I awoke to the sun blaring down its light unto my face, I stood to my feet looking around for anything that seemed familiar; the fog had dissipated and the menacing trees from the night before looked a lot more lush and welcoming. I walked for a few yards and quickly came to the same house from last night, though in the darkness it was hard to make out all it's dismantled features but I was sure it was the same home. I thought I ran far away from it only to realize I must of been running in circles or maybe the home itself played with me like a cat tracking each step a mouse makes before it captures it in it's deadly claws; though now in the day light the abandon home seemed less horrifying and more pathetic. I could see the door was still ajar at the same position the monster had left it, I started to step away backwards thinking the beast might be close but then realized the giant pumpkin from last night was gone, it's inundating presence now was a mere memory. I scratched at my head of how that could be possible and I started to convince myself the whole ordeal was a dreadful nightmare I must of had. I walked around the yard looking for any traces of evidence and soon I stumbled upon the bag of candy I threw, it looked like it was rifled through; pieces of candy laid in disarray but that could of been due to the impact from me tossing it. I then walked towards the horrid home and stepped unto the porch searching for something; anything to prove what I saw was real. On the porch I saw shredded wrappings from candy bars scattered across the porch leading into the darkness of the home, though one bar was left unopen and I bent over to pick up the small candy. The candy bar was a brand I've never seen before in fact the wrapper had no visible details or writing, no indication of the company that produced it nor any nutritional data it was just a brown wrapper that protected the mysterious chocolate. I then raised my head and looked inside the empty house and considered the idea of venturing in, but the thoughts of the possible evil that resided within crushed the idea immediately and instead I retreated off the porch placing the candy into my pocket.  After that I walked for a few hours and eventually made it back to the main road, a passing motorist found me and took me back to my neighborhood where by this point the entire city was out in search of my where abouts. My parents were completely devastated but relieved when they saw that I was okay showering me in what seemed like endless affection. I told my story to several of my friends but as one could of guess they didn't believe me, no one ever did I had the chocolate bar as evidence but always felt reserved at showing anyone; perhaps what had happened to me needed to die with that horrific night.  As time passed I hated Halloween but even more so my once sweet tooth vanished, I didn't participate in any of the festivities when it came to the spooky holiday. Instead I became the lonely weirdo that lived on the outskirts of town, I became a bit of a legend 'the scary old man that eats children during Halloween', the story makes me laugh but it doesn't bother me; I just keep to myself. That was until this October, I notice people are acting strange, they're not acting like themselves. More terrifying is that I've been finding those same brown wrappers around town, the mysterious candy no where to be seen but even more dire was this years Halloween decoration at our city hall; in the front yard of the building is a giant withering pumpkin, it's devilish smile sheltering a small candle. I think it's time for me to leave town or perhaps it's time for me to get back into the spirit of Halloween and save my community.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/178m9in/i_use_to_love_halloween_for_its_candy_until_i/

nosleep

Maleficent_Bag_1062

The Silver Tune [Part 2]

[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/173ekw8/the_silver_tune_part_1/) *Eternal, boundless, undecay’d,* *A thought unseen, but seeing all,* *All, all in earth or skies display’d,* *Shall it survey, shall it recall:* *Each fainter trace that memory holds* *So darkly of departed years,* *In one broad glance the soul beholds,* *And all, that was, at once appears.* When Coldness Wraps This Suffering Clay, Paragraph two. Lord Byron, 1815 \~ In the morning, I sat at a makeshift table set near the front of the plane. My sunken eyes were half closed as I cradled my cup of coffee. May was watching a movie on one of the plane's TVs while playing her Switch. “Not much sleep last night?” Carol said as she sat next to me. “Another nightmare. I'm just glad I didn't wake you this time.” I said. My voice was rough. “I'm so sorry, Meg. I wished those meds had worked. I don't mind if you wake me up when that stuff happens, you know. I can be there.” “I know. Thanks, Carol. I didn't last night because, well, May had a nightmare too. And I think it was similar to the one I have.” Carol raised an eyebrow. “You two had the same nightmare?” “Good morning, ladies,” Frederick interrupted with a smile. “We have a wonderful breakfast prepared for you. Would you care for a plate? We have taken your dietary restrictions into account of course.” “Yes, I'm fuc–” Carol glanced at May. “I mean, I'm quite starving, Freddy.” “Yes please, Freddy.” May said. I smiled. “Yeah, I think that we'd all like some. Thanks, Freddy.” I returned. His smile became somewhat frail. “Of course. I'll be back soon.” We had our breakfast together, and watched the movie as the plane coasted across the sky. In one more hour, we finally arrived in the appropriate city. We buckled back in as the jet coasted down, then drifted onto the runway. It parked and opened its doors. There were two dressed up men dragging our luggage on carts. Frederick showed us out from the plane, then to the airport lobby, then to a limo waiting out front. Everyone glanced at us, wondering exactly why *we* had a limo. The limo rolled its front window down. I smiled when I saw the driver. It was someone my mom had always had employed ever since I can remember. He had even helped me escape the house a few times when I just needed to get out. He was in his fifties with graying hair combed back and a formed mustache. He wore dress pants and a button up, "Hey, David.” I said. The older man smiled back at me. He stepped out of the vehicle and gave us all hugs. “David, my man.” Carol said. “Mister Davie!” May said. "Megan, May, Carol, it's so good to see you three in good health. It's been a long time.” He said. “It has been too long.” I said. He gestured to his limo. “Please, get comfortable. I'll bring you to the hospital where your mother is staying.” Frederick opened the door and helped us inside. We waved goodbye to Freddy as he closed the door, and I caught a look of relief on his face. David was silhouetted behind a tinted window. He started up the limo, and our ride began. As soon as we were off, May was investigating the fancy interior and touching *everything*. “May, don't touch that.” I said. “Why not? I've never seen red cider before, it probably tastes like grapes.” “That's not cider, but it probably tastes a little like grapes. Put it back please. Look, David even left an apple juice special for you.” I said. May looked confused and put the bottle back. She drank from the apple juice carton, but it only kept her occupied for approximately a second. “May, you're leaving fingerprints all over. Just sit down.” I said. “I think that I fancy this fancy ride. A girl could get used to this kind of treatment.” Carol said, leaning back. “Well don't. It's just while we're here. Don't let my mom's siren song make you think she's any more generous than– May, come on, what are you doing?” She had rolled down a window and was leaning out. Her open mouth let her cheeks flap in the wind. “What?” She muttered in a distorted voice. Carol laughed, and in staring at the two of them, I couldn't help it. I laughed too. It seemed that none of us had really laughed in a while. Carol pulled May back in with a tickle hug and rolled up the window. I used the distraction to pour myself a glass of wine. I took a sip. I'd be damned if I didn't admit how delicious it was. It was sweet, like an apple plucked from the tree right before it could sour, it was– wait, that's not right. Apples? Whatever, it was delicious. “Hey wait for me.” Carol said, putting May down and snatching my glass. After a sip, she hummed with appreciation. “This wine is damn fine, what vintage is it?” She said. “Would you know what it meant?” I teased. Carol raised a brow, putting on her fake English accent again. “I'll have you know that I am a connoisseur! A connoisseur I say. I have a nickname amongst the gentler gatherings of wine samplers that would simply go over your tiny little head.” “Oh? And what nickname is that?” I said. “It's probably ‘Miss Stinky Feet’.” May said with a chuckle. Carol and I laughed again. “How pray tell did you know that, young Miss? Yes, they say I am a smell that takes the tannins’ breath away.” Carol said. “What even are tannins?” I said. “Something that makes the wine good? I don't know.” Carol shrugged. She offered me the glass back and I took it. “Since I made you two laugh twice, you have to let me try it. Rule of twos.” May said. “I think you mean the rule of threes.” I said. “Ahh so that was your plot all along. Well played, Lady May,” Carol said. “Buuuut I suppose that would be more up to your sister, the First Lady. It's not for kids after all.” May was on me in a pounce and nearly spilled it. “Please please, please?” She begged. “How about this? You can smell it. If you can stand the smell, you can sip a drop.” I said. “Smell it?” “Yep.” I held it out for her to inspect. May leaned in like Indiana Jones reaching for the golden idol. She daintily positioned her nose and took a distinct whiff. There was a silent moment among the three of us before May leapt back like an offended cat. “Ew, you drink that? It smells like Germ-X!” She said. Carol made a glass of her own, held eye contact, and took a draining drink from it. May looked disgusted and awed. “See?” I said. “It's just another gross adult thing. If you're not careful, you might turn into one of us.” The window to the driver rolled down. “Is everything all right back there?” David said. “Just peachy. Sorry, David. Thanks for the wine and juice box.” I said. David smiled. It was nice to have this moment, but I couldn't help but feel that it would be over soon. We would arrive at the hospital, and have to face our dying asshole mother. Maybe coming home was a bad idea. \~ The cheeriness left in me soured once we arrived at the hospital. We stepped out of the car and started towards the main entrance. I began to wish that I had another glass of that wine. The hospital was in a business district of the city. It was a tall, dark windowed building with a giant parking lot. The fact that they had valet services made me roll my eyes. There were several expensive cars here, yet somehow I doubted they were more expensive than a five minute ride in one of the ambulances. The main doors were automatic, under a concrete canopy like most hospitals. Seeing it on the outside made me wonder why my mom would stoop to such a normal standard hospital, then I saw the inside. While nondescript on the outside, the inside was almost as gold as my mother's plane. Almost. The walls were decorated with reflective tile, and I kid you not, there were *chandeliers* in the lobby. Chandeliers. If I didn't know my mother, I would have thought that David had dropped us off at a luxury hotel. Even some of the staff had shimmery looking scrubs. I wouldn't have been surprised if my mother had built this hospital just for her stay. All of this eye rolling was making me dizzy. Carol and I held May's hands as we walked through the lobby. Someone approached us before we even made it to the desk. “You must be the Audlins. Please come with me.” A nurse said. He showed us to the appropriate room. It involved an awkward elevator ride to the 6th floor, room number 6. “Please stay here for a moment while I make sure that Mrs. Audlin is awake.” The nurse said, and entered the room. May tried to peek in as the nurse entered, and clutched my hand a little harder. We stood awkwardly as a gurnee passed. “Do you think that mom will be okay?” May asked in a whisper. I tried to think of something comforting to say, but I was quite aloof myself. “I don't know.” I said. Carol seemed to sense my mood and leaned down to May's level. She put a hand on her shoulder. “It seems scary now, I know, but it'll be okay no matter what happens. All right, May?” May sniffled. “Okay.” She said. We all shared a hug. “Your mother is ready for you.” The nurse said as he left the room. “I'll stay out here.” Carol said. I nodded apologetically. “No,” May said. “You can come with us.” “It's okay, May. I'll be right here when you're done. Someone has to keep a lookout for monsters.” Carol said. May nodded and we were filed in after the nurse. Mother laid in a black hospital bed, draped in silk sheets and surrounded by drawn curtains. May's eyes darted around the well kept room. She clutched my hand like it was her only life raft. There were IVs, patient monitors, and many other bells and whistles that I don't know the names of. It wasn't easy to see her again. She was dressed and made up to perfection despite being in a hospital. She didn't look to be in her late forties though, as she would be now. She looked more… How do I say this? She looked like an unwrapped mummy. Skin gray as ash, sunken, drained. That above all else curled my stomach into a knot. She really was sick. “Mrs. Audlin? Your daughters are here.” The nurse said sweetly. Mother rolled her head to the side. Her eyes had always startled me and they did now. Not their color or anything, but something behind them. At times, there was a fire there, something destructive and dark that burned all nearby. At others, it was absent, and she may as well have been a different person for her kindness and apologies. It seemed that she hadn't changed. Her eyes held that darkness. “Mabel? Magdalene?” She said with a rasp. I said nothing and pulled May closer. “It took you long enough,” Mother sneered. Her eyes darted around the room. “And I see that you were smart enough not to bring that pet of yours.” “My *what*?” I was gearing up for a retort, but May squeezed my hand. I sighed and buried it. “Carol is here, mother. Despite your ill favor. She's just waiting outside as to not offend your fragile fucking sensibility.” “Don't spew such foul language from your mouth,” Mother snapped. “It is good that she is absent. She is not allowed in my presence.” “You've made that quite clear. Now did you want us here to say something or did you just want to spit ignorance?” I said. There was a long quiet between us. We listened to the slow beep of her heart monitor. “You have nothing to say to me then?” Her words broke into a cough. She stared at us, waiting for a reply, but neither I or May said anything. “I see. I will likely have to be here for weeks on end with no restitution, but it seems you do not care. I am surprised that you bothered to show up at all.” “So am I. If you wanted us here so badly, why didn't you just call us? We could have been here weeks ago. I didn't get your stupid letter until yesterday.” Mother scoffed. “If you knew as much as I did, you wouldn't be so quick to trust such devices. There's always something listening.” May was biting her lip and burying further into me. “What do you want from us? Huh? You wouldn't have talked to us if you didn't want something. Want me to write your obituary? I'll put, ‘yep, she really put the *bitch* in obituary’. Hello? Are you hearing me?” Mother had turned to stare at the television above the bed. Thing is, it was off. “Well?” I said. Mother blinked. Her eyes were suddenly drained of that darkness. She swallowed hard and her voice was softer, her skin brighter. That entirely different person had taken her place. When she looked at me, she was surprised. “Magdalene? What are you doing here?” She glanced down at May. Fear and realization filled her eyes. “Listen, you're in danger. You shouldn't have come– Please be careful, beware the man in the red suit. He must have done this. He wants you here.” I froze. *The ‘man in a red suit’*? I thought of the glimpse of that figure I had seen at home, of the airport employee. I stared at my mother, uncomprehending. “But you wanted us here.” May said. “What are you talking about? What ‘man in a red suit’?” I said. “That's what I said, isn't it? He's a real nice fellow, nice as they come.” Mother snapped, her eyes and skin shifting again. The nurse retrieved papers and put them down. I hadn't noticed until he came close to me, but something was off about his smile. Now that I was looking, his scrubs were colored red. “Look over these and leave me. I'm tired. I've arranged for a hotel room in a nearby complex, as much as you don't deserve it. *Two* beds, mind you, and I'm not changing that fact. Now get out.” I studied my mother. Feeling so confused and afraid as I was, the only thing I could do was take the documents, and pull May from the room. I shake knowing what I know now. Maybe if I had acted then, I could have stopped what was to come. We went straight to the hotel once we left the hospital. There wasn't much talking on the way. Carol respected our silence for a while, and this time, I did take that second glass of wine. The hotel was just as insipid as the rest of my mother's accommodations. I was growing tired of the color gold. Still I felt better being far away from whatever just happened at the hospital. “Really? She made a point of not renting three beds?” Carol said a bit later in the hotel room. “Yeah. Apparently she thinks we don't sleep in the same bed, and one of us will have to occupy the lowly couch.” I said with feigned worry. Carol spoke like a court Lady. “Oh no, the couch? What a terrible turn of fate,” Her normal tone returned. “Wait, does she mean the sitting room, drawing room, or bedroom couch? There's that loveseat too. Hmm, confusing.” I scoffed. “My mother has strange ideas about what hardship is. Hard times for her is staying at a five star hotel instead of a luxury resort.” I said. Carol raised an eyebrow. “What does your mom even do to have so much money?” “She's old money. Her and my father both. I think it's something about devilishly lucky investments in the 2000s, industry in the 1900s, and even railroad and plantations in the 1800s. Oh, and also oil.” “Ah, that's right. That would do it.” Carol said. I looked around. May had gone off somewhere. I thought that I should go find her. The last thing I wanted her to be was alone after that debacle. “Have you seen May?” I said. Carol pointed. “She went to the drawing room, I think.” “The drawing room?” I said. “Yeah, didn't they call an extra room that in Game of Thrones or something?” I shook my head and went to find May. “What? It seems perfectly fine for drawing!” Carol called. May was there, staring out of the window across the city. She half-heartedly hovered her robot plane over the window as if it soared outside. She held her head up with the other hand. It looked like there was a storm brewing out there. “Hey May,” I said. “Are you doing all right?” She continued to fly her robot. “I guess.” “Is there anything that you want to talk about?” “Probably, but I wouldn't do a good job of it.” May said. I chuckled. “That's a surprisingly grown up thing to say.” “Why are you surprised? I am grown up.” May said. “You're right. My mistake.” I sat next to her. “Why does mom hate us like that?” May said. I bit my lip. “I don't know, sis.” “I don't like when people are mean to us. They're mean to you and Carol sometimes. I wish that I could stop them.” May said. “Mom does act weird sometimes. Maybe your transformer has something to say about it?” May smiled and put it up to her ear. She jiggled the robot and muttered under her breath. “What's that, Mr. Robot?” She said. Her robot ‘spoke’ again. “Hmm, that makes sense.” “What did he say?” I asked. “Mr. Robot says that it's really simple. Mom is just a bitch.” My eyes went wide. I froze like a deer in headlights. “It wasn't me.” I heard Carol call from the other room. “Mr. Robot has quite the potty mouth.” May said. “I dare say that he does,” I muttered, then caught myself. “Uh, maybe don't say that to anyone else? Ever. Please? No– uh, bad words?” She had an evil glint in her eye that seemed to say, *I've heard much worse from you*. May zipped her lips as she smiled a witchy grin. “Okay, well I have to go through some of those papers mom gave us, but just come get Carol or I if you need something.” As I left, May didn't seem entirely happy, but Mr. Robot was a little more energetic in his storm-ridden flight. I went into the kitchen to look over the documents. The rest of the day passed a little easier. At least a hotel room was good for that. When May and Carol eventually went to sleep that night, I slipped out of bed to read more of the paperwork that needed signing. I couldn't sleep anyway. I didn't really have to ‘slip’ out of bed either, as Carol wouldn't wake up from an earthquake. The only thing that really got to her were my nightmares. It was May who had what I like to call, ‘sleep echolocation’. She had more night awareness than a cat on catnip. I made sure to tip toe until I was past her room, then sat down at the grandiose table just outside of the kitchen. A clock I hadn't noticed before ticked quietly. I held my head in my hand as I read over the pages of conflated lawyer talk. Once I made it through term-defining pages, it was starting to look like some kind of will and testament, attached with bank-related paperwork. As I read on, it seemed like my mother wanted to give me… well, everything, in the case of her death. Her mansion was specifically listed here, her money and other accounts, everything. I was astonished to say the least. When my mom initially found out about Carol, she was dead set on not giving me a bent penny. After my father mysteriously passed away, her wishes became law. She was set on giving me nothing before so what had changed? I thought of that look in her eyes. The dark fire, then the fear. *“Magdalene? What are you doing here?”* I stopped reading for a second. I thought that I had heard a light springy sort of sound. I waited. I glanced around the dark expanse of the rooms. The bedrooms, ‘drawing room’, living room, then the front door. I heard it again and watched as the front door's handle jiggled. There were muttered voices. The lock beeped as if someone was pressing the wrong keycard against it. I had jumped, the sound was loud. I got up to open the door and explain that they had the wrong room. I had my hand on the handle when they spoke again. *“Hello, little girl,”* I stumbled back. “Would you be a dear and come play this box for me? I know you're in there. You and your little sister. I've been waiting for a long, long time for you to return. Release us.” I could hear *that* song tinkling away out there. The door seemed to groan and creak, then stopped. My heart beat a little faster as I leaned to the peephole. The light from the hallway drifted onto my face. There was nothing, then an eye. It was large, more insect-like than human. It was slimy and oily black. I would have fallen backwards in fear, but I was pulled against the door by something I couldn't see. “Do you know what they dug up, Magdalene?” It said frantically behind the door. “Something they wished they could bury again. It was death that they found below. *Death*. Don't you wish I was buried, Magdalene? *I was found upon the shore; Lost at sea with less than light*.” I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. There was frantic knocking on the door. It quickened to an aggressive bashing. The door seemed to crack under the force. It was going to break. I was held there, forced to listen, unable to move, unable to cry for help. “Magdalene?” It said. “Won't you open the door? Please, It's urgent.” I was breathing too fast. I had to slow myself down. The strange force holding me there seemed to melt away, and when I blinked, and saw two familiar faces through the peephole instead. “David?” “Yes, it's me. I have a message for you. I'm sorry it's so late.” David said. I held there for a moment, but opened the door. David seemed tired, who wouldn't be at this hour, but held to his duty with strength. Grant was the second person there. This was the first time I'd seen him in years. He was older than I remembered, though I guess that's what happens when you don't see someone for a while. “Hello, Miss Audlin.” Grant said. “Hey, Grant. Long time no see.” I said. David laughed as if I had said something funny. “I'm so sorry for disturbing you so late, but your mother wants to see you right away.” David said. I checked my phone. “She wants to meet again at nearly four in the morning?” David looked me up and down. “Yes, I know. I don't know the reason either. And if you want to stay in your superhero pajamas, that is completely valid.” “Uh, right– do you two want to just come in for a sec?” David gave me an odd look. “Sure, thank you. I'll be careful not to wake the little one.” David said. “May doesn't need to come with us?” “Ah, apologies, your mother wishes to speak to you alone, Magdalene.” Grant said. There was something strange in the way Grant was looking at me. His eyes were sharp. Something else clicked too. I hadn't noticed on the phone, but Grant was speaking much more annunciated, much cleaner than I remember. “Your mother wanted to see you alone.” David said. I nodded and closed the door as they stepped in. I heard stirring in the master bedroom that Carol and I had taken. Before I could react, someone opened it. “Meg? Mister Davie?” May said, rubbing her eyes. Had she come into the master bedroom while I wasn't looking? “Hey, little sis. Aren't you supposed to be asleep?” “You're not.” She said. David chuckled. “Fair enough. Look though, I have to run an errand, okay? I'll be back in a little while.” I said. She looked confused, but nodded. “Did you have another nightmare?” I whispered. She glanced in Grant's direction and shrugged. She seemed almost scared for some reason. “It's mom, isn't it? She wants to see you.” May said. “Yeah. That's right. Just go back to bed, okay? You can still sleep in there with Carol if you want. We can enjoy breakfast sooner if you go to sleep.” “I hear they have a machine that automatically makes you pancakes.” David said. “Okay.” She said. I tousled her hair, and she gave a half smile. I replaced my superhero attire in the bathroom and returned to the main area. I looked around, confused. “Where's Grant? Did he go use the restroom?” David frowned. “Grant is waiting in the limo.” David said. “Oh, he went back to the limo just now?” I said. “No, he stayed down there initially. I came up here alone,” I felt a little dizzy. “Are you doing all right?” David added. “Yep. Let's just get this over with. Mother's lucky that I couldn't sleep tonight, or there'd be Hell to pay.” *Hell*, was that where I was? Where else would nightmares leak into reality? Was I going crazy? Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that my mother was tied to this somehow. I knew something was wrong, and I was afraid to go with David. What would be waiting for me at the hospital this time? No, I should go, and I would get answers. David drove us back to the hospital. Grant sat up front with David, and I couldn't help but feel uneasy near him. He didn't even look at me once though. The limo felt lonely all by myself in the dark. Too bad it was early for wine. Even at this hour, the city had a fair amount of traffic. The hospital staff parking lot was still packed of course, but the public lot was nearly empty. David stopped at the entrance and went to park. “I ought to come with you, Miss Audlin.” Grant said. “No, thanks. Just stay with David.” “As you wish.” I studied Grant, but saw nothing off. He just looked at me with a raised eyebrow so I headed inside before he could ask. It was as dark and dismal as a closed museum. The decorations made it feel like one is fact. A nurse approached me almost immediately out of nowhere. I jumped when he spoke. It was the same nurse from before. Same odd smile, but their scrubs were black not red. “Ah, Miss Audlin. Please, come with me. We have been expecting you.” I was led to her room again. Floor 6, Room 6. We soon stood outside of the door. The hospital seemed oddly dead and abandoned. I glanced down the hall, but quickly looked away. It was too long. Too dark. It felt like something was waiting there. “I will wait here, Miss Audlin. Your mother was quite adamant that only you were present.” The nurse said, and opened the door. He closed it behind me as I stepped in. At the click, my mother turned her head as the monitor beeped her heart rate. It was dark in here. The moonlight entering through the window made her silhouette seem sinister. Really, every shadow seemed that way after my experiences today. “Magd– sorry, I know you hate that name. Megan, thank you for coming” She said. I said nothing. “Please, come closer. We don't have any time to waste. There is much to say.” I was confused and wary. In past years, she had lashed out at me after a kind spell before. I walked over and sat by the bed. “I know that any fondness you could have had for me has dwindled over the years,” Mother began. “I do not entirely know the extent of what I have done to you, but that is part of the reason why I needed to see you while he is… gone. I wanted to explain. I know you do not and should not feel the need to listen to me, but please, listen now.” “What do you mean you don't know? You should know perfectly well what's happened.” I said. She nodded. “I have not been wholly myself, Megan. For years. I did some terrible things, and now I am paying for it. Something has taken over me. It is like waking and sleeping, but not being able to tell my dream from reality. This thing seems to revert me back to the mean person I was all those years ago.” “Mom, you've treated May, Carol, and I like–” “I know. I know. The things I've done are probably what attracted this thing, and I know what I *have* done. There's no taking it back. I won't try to excuse myself.” “What the hell are you talking about? Something taking over you? You're not making any sense.” I said. She stared out of the window for a moment. “You've seen him, haven't you? The man in the red suit? I saw the terror on your face when I mentioned him earlier.” The look on my face must have spoken for me. “They lied to me, Megan,” Mother said. “They told me that it could solve all of our problems, help me repent for everything that I've done. He lied. Don't let him out, no matter what he– no, *it* promises. Protect May.” She was scaring me. Part of me continued to shout how absurd this all was. Haunting, possession, whatever you called it, couldn't be real. Yet I had seen strange things lately. But I also hadn't been sleeping. I also knew my mother and what she would do to get out of things. What was really happening? She grabbed my hand. “West tried to warn your father and I, but we didn't listen. We bought the box from the museum auction anyway, and then it took your father. Listen, Megan. There's someone who can help you where I can't. Call Myles West.” I looked down at my hand as she pressed a paper scrap into it. “Please, Megan. I can feel it trying. Please. Don't let it out. You and May are the only ones who can keep it trapped.” I couldn't say anything. I couldn't even begin to process it all. What the hell was she talking about? Myles West? “Don't forget to watch the house.” My mother said darkly. She thrust keys into my chest before beginning to laugh. “My little Magdalene, run home, run!” I stumbled out of my chair and stared at her with horror. She laughed and laughed like an insane clown. She began to convulse. My mom's heart monitor beeped some kind of alarm. The nurse and several others rushed in and pushed me aside. I slowly stepped as I was escorted. All I could do was stare at my mother. Amongst the staff, I thought I saw someone out of place. An odd sort of person, looking over her bed and pulling on black gloves. He was in a red suit, skin pale and taught. He smiled a cutting, terrifying smile as the door was closed behind me. *Part 3 is on its way...*

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/178mggb/the_silver_tune_part_2/

nosleep

WhisperWoodsStories

I attended a strange new church…

My mind has been overflowing. I can’t seem to keep it to myself anymore, there’s just so much out there that you don’t know, that nobody knows and I feel like I’m one step away from just losing my mind. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me give you some background first. I had just recently moved to a new town out in the Midwest for work. I won’t disclose the exact location, but it’s been lonely to say the least. Deafeningly so. I work a federal government job, which really only consists of me editing and proofreading documents, with little to no interaction with anyone else. My apartment doesn’t allow pets, and although I didn’t have many friends before I moved out here, I had just graduated college, so I at least had SOME interaction with other people. My parents aren’t in the picture anymore, and my new towns middle aged-to-elderly majority population leaves little room to make friends. My days consist of waking up, showering, going to work, coming home, watching TV and going to bed. Every. Single. Day. The most human contact I regularly receive is clocking out at the end of the day where someone else may offer me a goodbye before I head back home. In its own right, loneliness is its own kind of hell. So you might not be surprised to hear that upon my finding a missionary standing at my door, I was almost ecstatic. I hadn’t been particularly religious in years, but that was a trait I was willing to forego, if it meant that I could escape this self inflicted prison. A man around my age stood at my doorstep, with blonde wavy hair, a welcoming smile, and pamphlet in hand. “Hi!” He said cheerfully, reaching out to shake my hand. I shook it, and he followed up with “My name is Chris and I was looking for more people to join our congregation. Are you at all familiar with the New Life Church?” I shook my head no, but told him that I would be interested in learning. A complete lie but, come on. I’d been here for 6 months now, and this was already shaping up to be the longest conversation I’d had in that timeframe. I invited him in, apologizing for the clutter of fast food bags that littered my coffee table, and clothes spread across the floor. It’s hard to find the motivation to keep a tidy house when the only company you have is yourself. He laughed lightheartedly and claimed it was nothing compared to his own living room. I laughed back and suddenly felt very self conscious. Shit, did I even remember how to hold a conversation? But he pushed these worries aside quite quickly. He seemed to be quite eager to talk, and didn’t mind to lead in conversation as I tried to hold my own in small talk and answer his questions about my job, my moving here, until finally he relaxed and said “Honestly, you’ve got my hopes up now. It’s really nice getting to talk with someone else my own age for a change. There’s not many of us here in case you haven’t noticed.” I chuckled again and nodded. “So honestly”, he started , finally handing me the pamphlet, “I’d really appreciate it if you would join us Saturday night. I’ll save you a seat! Right up in front of the pulpit. I promise you won’t regret it.” The paper was plain with “NEW LIFE CHURCH” written on the top with “For an Eye Opening experience” directly below it, followed by service times. Noticing that there was no address, I flipped the paper over and found a peculiar set of directions. *Located in the woods off of Park Trail B. *3 Miles into the trail, take a hard left past the cut down pine tree stump, off of the trail, and follow the white markers on the trees. *You will come across a river. Walk along the right hand side of it for another mile until you come to a steep cliff with the river running over it *There will be a rope tied to the side of the cliff face. Climb this down and circle around the lake and continue to follow the white marker trees until you come to our church. Upon reading the instructions Chris must have noticed my dumbfounded expression and laughed heartily. “Yeah, that’s about the reaction I expected. Don’t worry , I’ll go with you on your first visit. You like hiking?” I nodded again, slowly. I was familiar with the park. Some days, if I felt really cooped up, I would go out and walk the trails. I never seemed to see anybody on them, and at the very least, maybe I could make a new hiking buddy out of the trip. They must be some kind of hippie, new age type church, connecting with God and nature and all that. But why so far? Why not carve out a straightforward trail if they’re going back that far in the woods? While I was pondering this, a question finally made its way to the forefront of my mind. “Hey so.. uh yknow… what’s your church all about?” The words stumbled out of my mouth. He grinned again, a sly kind of smile and offered an irritatingly vague explanation. “Oh it’s hard to explain it all with just words. You’ve really gotta attend a service to understand.” Shortly after we said our goodbyes, I agreed to attend on Saturday night. I realized he hadn’t told me what time, but he assured me he’d come to my house to pick me up when it was time, and to just be ready. Wear whatever you feel comfortable in, no pressure. Saturday evening came and went and soon it was night. I was sitting on my couch, boots on, ready to go hours ago, with the clock was approaching midnight, and Chris nowhere to be seen. I slouched on my couch, half awake, dozing with ‘Friends’ playing on the TV, when I heard a knock. Incredulously, I answered and lo and behold, there stood Chris, wearing a dark gray jacket and jeans with hiking boots and that same smile on his face as the first time he stood at my door. “Hey man, hope I didn’t wake you. You ready?” Now, I know what you’re all thinking. That I couldn’t possibly be dumb enough to go. But you have to understand, for the first time in so long I felt a sense of..adventure? Excitement? The whole thing was so bizarre, and my entire existence had been so unbearably dull I tossed aside any sense of self preservation and… well off we went. We rode his old rickety Ford to the outskirts of town where the park entrance was located, making small talk along the way. “So.. why exactly do you guys hold services so late? And in the middle of nowhere?” I asked. “To get you in the right headspace.” Chris replied without taking his eyes off the road. “We try to separate ourselves from modern luxuries during our services. And walking the trail is a sort of rite of passage thing. Not to mention, being so far off the grid keeps services very intimate and.. private.” Huh. Weird, but not totally unexpected. This confirmed my suspicions for the time that this was definitely some kind of hippie new age church. But still, my best opportunity for making new acquaintances. I was no stranger to taking night walks, and hiking anyways. It was one of the only hobbies I indulged in my solitude. Once we had pulled into the park and started on the trail the actual hike itself was uneventful. Chris pulled out a heavy duty flashlight and walked on ahead of me, motioning for me to fall in behind, and stay close. About a mile in, I noted how dark it was. So dark it was hard to believe it was natural. The moon had shone brightly in the clear night sky, accompanied by a smattering of stars , illuminating the night with its light gray glow. But now, under the forest cover, anywhere that wasn’t in his flashlights sights, was pitch black. I if I stuck my hand to the side and looked over, it was as if it had disappeared, and the trail behind us immediately vanished into the black. It was as if the only space in the entire world that existed was the ground the light illuminated as I stuck close to my new friend. And I had to stick close, or else, I too may be lost into that abyss. Chris stopped suddenly and I nearly bumped into him, which startled me out of my neurotic daydreaming. “Alright and here” he said, stepping off the trail and standing next to a tree with a distinct white mark. “Is where we follow the markers. Stick close, it’s easy to get lost out here.” He finished, and I hurried on behind. I lost track of time following Chris through the woods. He seemed to take many twists and turns that I don’t know how it was possible for us to not have gotten lost. But every time I was about to ask him for reassurance, he would shine the light on another white marking on a tree. He kept marching forward confidently, and I followed, falling into an almost trancelike state, with the crunching of the leaves below my boots becoming rhythmic and my mind going quiet. Without hardly realizing it, I found myself in front of a deep, loud, river, just as the directions had promised. And then after hiking alongside it, we came upon the rope next to a small cliff. I don’t know why I was so surprised. It was like every landmark we reached from that pamphlet struck a bit of anxiety into my heart. I guess even being out here, a part of me doubted the elaborateness of the directions, and was expecting Chris to pull a gotcha moment on me, or something. And here we were. Like I said, pretty uneventful. Chris had followed the trail from memory, hardly ever stopping even for a second. And now before us stood a large white building, that looked entirely plain. It was rectangular with a basic shingled black roof, and white plastic paneled walls, sitting on a concrete foundation. There wasn’t even a sign. It was really kind of underwhelming. I don’t know what I was expecting exactly from a church that held its services in the middle of the woods at night, but something more… fantastical? This looked more like a large storage building. The double doors were colored black, which stood in stark contrast to the white of the rest of the building and rested at the top of a couple of concrete steps, where at the top stood a tall imposing man, bald, with a thick mustache adorning his face and dressed in a plain white button up with brown slacks. In his hands he held a large wicker basket. Chris walked right up the steps and greeted the towering figure. “Evening, Brother Amos” he said shaking his hand. Brother Amos only offered a grunt in reply. Chris then gestured to me. “This is my friend Alex. He’s going to be joining our service tonight.” I couldn’t read the expression on Brother Amos’ face. He didn’t say a word, nor did his face change at all. He just looked down at me, and outstretched his hands holding the basket towards me. I blinked, completely unaware what this gesture meant until Chris whispered to me, “Sorry, I forgot to tell you, they don’t allow phones during the service. Don’t worry, you’ll get it back when we leave.” As I pulled out my phone, I was surprised to see the time. It was 11:30. Right on the dot. It had taken at least 20 minutes to drive to the park and we had been in the woods on the trail for AT LEAST an hour. There was no way it was only 11:30, when we had left at 11. Realizing I had froze up, I apologized and dropped my phone into that basket, while a large wave of anxiety started to wash over me. Yes I know, only NOW was my brain firing off danger signals. Not when this random man showed up at my door and invited me to a church in the middle of the nowhere. Not when I decided to GET IN THE CAR with said man, and hike miles off the marked trail using the most convoluted directions I had ever seen. It was like everything hit me at once, and I realized just how stupid and dangerous this whole thing really was. I couldn’t be that desperate for companionship and human interaction could I? Still…a part of me felt excited. It was stupid I know, but you have to understand, this was the first flicker of excitement I’d felt in so long. I was doing something stupid, perhaps dangerous, yet here I stood at the doorstep of this mysterious church in the middle of nowhere and night with my new “friend” by my side, daring to step inside. It was something, and it was the first time I’d felt alive in so long. So, spurred on by that feeling, the tall man’s unsettling gaze, and Chris’ pat on my back, I followed him inside. The inside of the church was just as plain as the rest of it. It actually looked very similar to an old Baptist church I attended as a child for my cousins wedding. The floor was laminated wood, along with wooden pews with red carpeting over the seats. There were matching red carpeted stairs leading up to the pulpit. There were a littering of congregants scattered throughout the pews. Honestly much more than I thought. It surprised me once again, that there were quite a few older folks sitting in the pews. They really made the hike here? Another detail that crossed my mind was that there were no crosses or iconography anywhere throughout the building. The walls were plain, there was no design on the pulpit, just a flat block sitting front and center stage. It had just then occurred to me that I had never clarified what kind of “church” this even was. I didn’t know if it was Protestant or Catholic, or Scientologist or Jehovahs Witness, or any number of religions it could have been based in. The lights hanging above gleamed a sickly yellow, and a soft sweet smell permeated the air that I couldn’t quite place. Chris guided me to the front where I was pleased to find that the rest of the congregants were much more welcoming than the imposing figure standing guard at the door. I was greeted with a flurry of “welcomes” and “we’re glad you have you’s” and one cute red headed girl, who looked to be around my age, even shook my hand and said she hoped I’d be back for more services. I was still riding that high when a man’s voice rang out “GOOD EVENING!”. A stout man stood on stage in front of the pulpit. He was accompanied on each side, one by Brother Amos, and the other by an equally tall woman. She wore the same outfit as Amos, and was even bald like him. The man in the middle looked short in comparison. He wore a white robe, that looked almost like a hospital gown, and had a short neatly trimmed goatee and brushed back black hair that showed off his receding hairline. “Folks, as you know, tonight is a special night. We have in our midst a newcomer!” He turned his gaze toward me, which made me self conscious and I shifted in my seat. “Who, by grace, will be received into our family. But only!” He slammed his fist onto the podium, jolting me. “After experiencing the full depth and transcendence, of a service here at New Life Church.” A couple people in the crown clapped and hollered, and I nervously put my hands together as well. Brother Amos and his counterpart walked into the door in the back, and carried out what looked like a stone basin, and laid it on the stage, directly to the right of the podium, setting it down with a heavy ‘THUD’. The thing was gray and ornate, with etchings and markings all around it that looked similar to hieroglyphs. At the same time, I noticed the smell in the room had gotten stronger. It was even sweeter now, sickeningly so. It was so sweet, I could feel it starting to burn my sinuses. I looked around to see if anyone else was bothered by this, but everyone was just standing there, looking forward towards the preaching, smiling in anticipation. “So many of us tend to feel lost.” The preacher started his sermon as the towering duo walked back into the room behind the pulpit. “So many of us tend to feel alone. So many of us tend to feel trapped. But as we know here, we are never alone.” A couple of folks whooped and hollered at this. “Rejoice my friends, into the world unseen. Let it shape you. Let it kill you and destroy you. Let it rebuild you in its truth.” A smattering of sweat had formed on the preachers brown as he dabbed at it with a cloth stuffed in his shirt pocket. “REJOICE” he boomed, and the congregation cheered in response. At this time, Brother Amos and his counterpart returned back from the side door. This time holding a pig The thing screamed and bleated and struggled, and the two giants holding it seemed to be having significant difficulty keeping it still. I looked incredulously over at Chris but for some reason, i felt like I couldn’t move. Something was pinning me to the seat. The smell was overwhelming now, and I could almost see a faint haze permeating the room. They presented the pig to the Pastor, who withdrew a mid sized ornate knife from his breast pocket. My legs felt numb. I tried to shout in protest but still my throat was closed. The room spun as my heart raced. The smell of overwhelmingly sick sweetness overtook my senses as the Pastor cried out “REJOICE” as he cut across the swines throat and dark blood poured into the stone basin. As the blood poured I felt my mind slip away. Visions started to dance across my eyes as and it felt like my sense of self had entirely dissolved. The color of the blood from the pig, seemed to mix into the fog that now encased the room, leaving the atmosphere around me a dark red, nearly black. As the fog became thicker and thicker I saw visions in the cloud. I saw what looked like men rising out of the mud with horrible creatures, deformed and distorted and old holding onto their backs. I saw giant beings, that looked more akin to mountains than living things, raise mighty hands and earthquakes devastated the land. I saw the damned, raising their fists screeching their blasphemies in languages long forgotten to man as the creatures that I can only describe as demons laughed. I saw the atrocities committed by the human race, innocents tortured and killed as they begged for mercy. Mothers being ripped from their children, and families so thin their ribs pushed against the sides of their skin huddled against a wall as they succumbed to their hunger. The demons continued to laugh. I saw the creatures, they were here with us now, chiding us, laughing harder more as reality crumbled around me. Yet as I felt my perception of self and my reason dissolve, I felt an overwhelming feeling of peace wash over me. As this feeling overtook me, the fog swirled and the visions around me changed. I saw the strings that held this universe together and the planes of existence above and below it, constantly tugging on each other, influencing each other. I saw the universe start to form, in the formless void, something created somehow from nothing. I saw the unintelligible formation of consciousness in the first beings. I can’t possibly relay everything that I saw. I don’t think there are words to describe it. I don’t think that given a lifetime I could describe to you the depth of and significance of that I saw in the smoke. The fog grew darker and darker, and at some point without realizing, the waking world and the sleeping consciousness of self collided and I was out. I woke up Sunday morning in my apartment with what felt like a hangover. My phone lay on my bedside table, and I seen that I had an unopened text message. It was from Chris. He thanked me for joining him at the service and hoped I would be back next Saturday night. I’m sorry but I feel like I’ve been in a slog since this happened. I can’t stop thinking about that church. My work performance is suffering, and I’m making mistakes that I otherwise would have caught. Nothing in this world feels real anymore. Not when you know what lies beyond. I know it’s a terrible idea, but I’m considering going back to that church. I want to know more. I blacked out just as I was really starting to grasp the truth. At least there I won’t be alone. I also feel the need to discuss what I saw, with someone, anyone. I want to share it, I need the world to know. And words cannot do it justice. I need to show them.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/178ih3g/i_attended_a_strange_new_church/

nosleep

Anson-M

My Fiancée Thinks her friend Elaine should be one of our Bridesmaids, but I don't think I like her very much

Even though the grooms aren't supposed to be excited and interested in their wedding preparations, I was. Melanie's bridesmaids, a close group of her girlfriends she had known forever, giggled, calling me "metrosexual" as I heatedly discussed the various flavours of cake and shades of napkins but I didn't care. And when Melanie and I had a screaming row over the flower arrangements (lilies? really? Can we think just a little bit outside the box darling?) they actually took my side. I liked her bridesmaids fair enough. For the first year of our relationship they had been an amorphous blob of vaguely interchangeable "Melanie's girlfriends", and I never quite got round to learning their names. After all, Melanie mostly hung out with them without me. As the months past, I learned there was the tall one, the curvy one, the one who looked like non-actress version of Julianna Margulies, and the bitchy one. And now the wedding preparations were fully underway, and I was starting to tell them a bit apart. But still, perhaps it was their habit of dressing in generally similar styles, often in each other’s clothes, and doing their hair and make-up similarly too, that often led me to confuse them. But so long as they went along with the vision we had for our perfect day, it was all good. In fact we were talking about the bridesmaids dresses when I first realised there might be a problem. Melanie casually mentioned Elaine, one of her bridesmaids. It didn’t first register with me. Melanie kept talking about the dresses. "But she really dislikes the sage-green we've picked for the colour of their dresses. I told her that was all you darling." Suddenly my brain did a double-take. "Elaine? Your childhood friend?" Melanie nodded. "She's so excited for the wedding! and to be a bridesmaid! She never got to be bridesmaid while she was alive, so I'm so happy to do this for her." I sat down heavily and suddenly, and looked at Melanie, who was staring at her face carefully in the mirror, contouring her cheeks. Ugh- she was using that shade of bronzer which made her look like a white actor cast by Hollywood in 1970s Technicolor as "Cherokee warrior 1". I had told her many times not to use that. Then I focused. "Melanie- Elaine is dead. You told me- she died of cancer, just a few months before we started dating." Melanie turned and I couldn't help wincing at her makeup. But the expression in her eyes was real emotion: pure anger. "I know what I told you. And I told you too, she is always with me- she will always be with me. And if you have a problem with that, or any of my girlfriends-" I held up my hand to staunch the Spice Girls rant that I had heard several times before. "Melanie- no! Of course I don't have a problem- I thought you meant, like metaphorically, spiritually, you know. Like people always talk about their dead grandma or whatever looking out for them! But now you're talking about her wearing a bridesmaid dress! At our wedding!" My voice rose incredulously and I could hear a tinny note of panic creeping in. Our whole relationship was flashing before my eyes as I remembered all the times Melanie had casually said something like “and we were at Happy hour when Elaine said- and we all died laughing!” “and Elaine told me not to worry about it, she would sort it out, and you know, the next day it was all fixed!” The doorbell rang. Melanie ran to the door, and a second later the high chatter of excited women filled the air as all the friend group trooped in. They were all dressed quite similarly as always, in stripy crop tops revealing various parts of their body, and cargo pants. And that dreadful orangish contouring. Melanie said "Ladies- this fella here doesn't think Elaine should be one of the bridesmaids!" The chatter subsided, giving place to a nervous tense silence. The girls exchanged glances. Then Julianna spoke up. "Look- you don't want to do that. Elaine is really happy to be a bridesmaid, plus you don't want to make her mad at you. She um, really cares about Melanie, they were like sisters growing up you know." The air in the room seemed to thicken slightly. I couldn’t quite tell how many there were. The orange contour gave them an almost animalistic quality, and they stared at me with their hostile strange eyes, which yet were not devoid of some sympathy. Suddenly I yelped out- something was burning me in my pants pockets. I snatched my phone out, which was glowing bright hot, and immediately dropped it on the floor, my hand scalded. We all stared at the phone, the red glow fading harmlessly. I held my blistering hand, my shock numbing the searing pain. "That was Elaine" murmured the Curvy One. Melanie came up to me, looking up into my eyes beseechingly. "Please, don't make her spoil our perfect day- we’ve been planning this for so long. She has to be there- she has been waiting for this, just try to understand. She loves us all so much" Tall One spoke up. "Melanie passed a cyclist too close the other day driving home, and he gave her the finger. You don't want to know what Elaine did to him. She draws strength from caring for Melanie you know, his head was almost cut off by his bike chain, it was wrapped so tightly round his throat." Melanie nodded solemnly. "It cut right through his spine, I could see his vertebrae poking out, covered with blood." I looked at my phone and tried to quell the shaking that was threatening to take over me. I didn’t want to appear scared and witless in front the bridesmaids. My hand was starting to throb. The girls moved around, all still looking worried at me. I still didn't know how many there were- four or five? "Of course" I muttered. "Of course Elaine should be one of the bridesmaids". A sigh of relief went up. Then Melanie threw her arms around my neck. “Oh darling, we’re going to have the best wedding ever!”

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1780fkv/my_fiancée_thinks_her_friend_elaine_should_be_one/

nosleep

1000andonenites

My new job requires me to work from 7pm to 7am. But every midnight, my task is to hide in a special room. Part 8

[Part 1]( https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16kmq86/my_new_job_requires_me_to_work_from_7pm_to_7am/) [Part 7]( https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1739dxn/my_new_job_requires_me_to_work_from_7pm_to_7am/) My apologies for not keeping up with the schedule. I know, I did not update you on the situation the past Wednesday. It is because a lot has happened since the last time I posted, which was the previous Sunday, I guess. The entire week has been a roller-coaster, and I believe much more things will happen from now on. On Monday, my wife woke me up in absolute panic, shouting about something happening to the children. We both rushed to their bedroom and found them lying straight in their beds and very pale, like corpses on autopsy tables. My wife stopped at the door, murmuring that something was not right, while I was trying to shake my children awake, calling their names. She then said that she shook them just like I was doing, before she came to wake me up, but could not understand how they were back lying down completely straight. I then asked her to call an ambulance. Fortunately, they are both far from being dead according to the doctor, however, up to this point as I am typing this post, there is still no clear explanation for their condition and they are still unconscious, trapped in some sort of coma. Around 6 pm the same day, I received a call from my supervisor, who was worried about me not yet showing up at work, since I was always on time and 6:30 pm was fast approaching for him. I refrained from explaining what had happened to my children to him, even though he will read it here later. I did not want to use the condition of my children as a way to get some sort of emergency leave. I was done with that job, so I said it straight and raw. "This is not happening my friend." He calmly responded. Look, this is surely not the conventional way to quit a job, but when employees choose this path, most of the time in this country, the employers just let them go as they always feel powerful and confident enough to replace staff even on the same day. I could understand that thirty minutes or so were not enough to replace me before the next shift, but my supervisor seemed to make it clear that the company will not let me go. I was not allowed to quit. While the conversation slowly evolved into an argument, my wife once again came to fetch me as something was happening to the kids. I hanged up and rushed towards their room. "Go back to your duty Kol. The black room awaits." They kept on repeating, still lying straight, just speaking simultaneously and mechanically to pass that terrifying message. The nurses turned to my wife and I, communicating only through their expressions, asking us what was happening and what were they talking about? They stopped before the doctor arrived. Conquered by fear and anxiety, my wife left the room in tears, on the verge of just losing her mind. Meanwhile, my supervisor kept on calling, harassing me on the phone. I picked up to put an end to that and we argued a little bit more. He concluded by saying that if I did not resume the job, I should expect a visit from the enforcer, before hanging up on me. I needed to be with my wife. On Tuesday, in the early hours of the morning as we were still in the hospital, I finally told my wife that I will not be returning to that work. Surprisingly, she did not react to it at all, but instead, she opened up a little bit about some strange things she has been experiencing on her own and that she tried to ignore or repress for her sanity. She explained to me that during the days when I am off duty, she sometimes takes care of the laundry and for the occasion, she would include all the items that are parts of my uniform. However, those items, despite not emanating smoke, would come out of the washing machine burning hot. One time, when she was about to remove the items from the washing line, she noticed something on the T-shirt. The sun was behind it in terms of trajectory, and she could see transparent patterns on the cloth, making her wonder what type of fancy fabric was used for just a T-shirt. I left her there and rushed home to confirm what she saw while trying to reach my day shift counterpart on the phone to no avail. I had been trying to contact him since last weekend. I arrived home and retrieved the remaining parts of the uniform and on them, I used the sole fancy flashlight I reserved for home and personal use. Nothing was visible at first, even in the UV mode, but when I moved the UV light behind the clothes, I saw and recognized the crafty patterns from the black room. I tried the same thing with everything that came from that company, including the contract, and I saw the patterns even through the paper. The next day, after informing my wife about my future actions, I went to the company with the uniform in a conveniently black garbage bag without any prior phone call to my supervisor. Right at the entrance, I was greeted by a sight of horror when I saw the motorcycle guy standing there with the red uniform, as a replacement to my day shift counterpart. He refused to let me in acting on instructions from the supervisor, who soon stepped out to meet me there. Doing my best by avoiding keywords in front of that stalker dude, I explained to my supervisor that I was not returning to work just like my previous day shift counterpart because of reasons he definitely knew of. Once again, he protested, reminding me about the terms of the contract which I believe he also knew was content-shifting. Under the look of the motorcycle guy, smirking with satisfaction, I threw the garbage bag containing the uniform in front of his feet before storming off, determined to leave that dark part of my life behind. Emotions and distress overwhelmed me during that day, preventing me from functioning correctly, which as well explains why I could not write, edit and post an update at that time. Once again, my apologies. On Thursday, after being tired of calling my colleague to no avail, I typed his name on browsers and social media apps and managed to get one of his accounts. I checked his contacts and posts on the social media app and could identify his wife. I wasted no time to send a request and she wasted no time to accept, going as far as calling me first. It turned out that both of us were looking for my colleague, a fact that crushed me just like what she had to say, explaining me that one night at 12 am, the police came to look for him, he went with them but he never returned since. There was no record about any officer being dispatched to his home, so even the law enforcement did not recognize having a hand in his disappearance. The next day, my wife and I were smoking in the living room at around 6 am, unable to sleep because of the whole ordeal. In fact, we spent the whole night there. The condition of the children had worsened, as gangrene had appeared on some parts of their little and fragile bodies, slowly ushering them into death. When I proposed her to go to the bedroom and get some rest, she declined, encouraging me to go alone. I opened the door and gasped at what I saw waiting for me. She stood up and came to take a look, gasping as well at the sight. The garbage bag containing the uniform was back. Facing a nightmare that was then consuming her more than myself, my wife closed the door, hyperventilating in fear and looked at me. She knew that I gave the uniform back, I told her everything, and that day she even apologized about not believing me at first. However, that was a clear sign of intrusion and it had to be solved. In disbelief, I reopened the door and we found the uniform out of the bag, then standing on its own in front of us, as if worn by an invisible entity, before it stormed towards us. I slammed the door closed and whatever was on the other side banged on it relentlessly, without trying to use the doorknob. My wife lost it, yelling at it to just leave us alone while I received a call from the supervisor, and it seemed to make the supernatural occurrence stop on the spot. You may have a clear idea of what he had to say, but precisely his message can be rephrased as this: "All that will not stop. For the sake of your kids, your wife and yourself, before the enforcer pays you a visit, go back to work!" There may be a day when these updates will stop prematurely. I think that I really should return to work for now because everything is really getting out of control. Many of you, as real human beings with genuinely good hearts have ignored my mistakes and suggested a lot of ideas since the first post. I have explored some of them. This time, everything is much worse and once again, after sharing my story to the community, I beg you to suggest anything that might get me and my family out of this deadly trap. Please! [Part 9](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17bclib/my_new_job_requires_me_to_work_from_7pm_to_7am/)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1784iki/my_new_job_requires_me_to_work_from_7pm_to_7am/

nosleep

AngelmZeal1

The Price for Prosperity

We were a family of five, living in a humble village. There was my mother and father, working tirelessly to make ends meet. My elder sister, always a source of guidance, my younger sister, the innocent soul of our home, and myself, the middle child who never quite grasped the gravity of our situation. In the beginning, our lives were seemingly ordinary, considering our lower-middle-class status. My father toiled as a daily labourer, breaking his back in the fields, while my mother spent her days scrubbing the dirt and grime off other people's dishes. As time passed, I began to notice my mother's presence in our home more and more. At first, it seemed like a blessing, a chance for us to bond and spend quality time together. She often had a warm smile on her face, assuring us that she simply wanted to be closer to her family. Innocently, I believed her words. I remember the days when she used to leave for work, clutching her tattered apron as she set out to clean the utensils in other people's homes. The clinking of coins in her pocket, the echoes of her determined footsteps, were all part of our daily rhythm. But those days slowly faded away, like a forgotten melody. One evening, while my father was away working, I asked her, "Mama, you've been home so much lately. Are you not going to work anymore?" She knelt down to my level, her eyes locking onto mine, her smile seemingly sadder now. "I just want to be with you all more, my dear," she said, her voice trembling slightly, like leaves rustling in a quiet breeze. As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, it was my elder sister who unveiled the painful truth. She pulled me aside one evening, her face etched with concern. "You know, our mother didn't choose to stay home. She was fired from her job." The innocence that once filled our home began to crumble, revealing the shadows that had been creeping in. I was too young to fully understand the implications of her job loss, but I could sense the unease that had settled in our household. My mother's cheerful facade was beginning to falter, and an unspoken tension hung in the air. It was only the beginning of a series of unsettling events that would plunge our family into a darkness we could never have imagined. As the days turned into weeks, an unforeseen shift occurred in our household. My father, a pillar of strength in our family, began to linger at home more often. For a child, this sudden change was, on the surface, a welcome one. It meant I had my father around, someone to play with, someone to teach me things and share stories. He would take me on little adventures around our village, showing me the secrets of the forest, teaching me to fly kites, and sharing his dreams and aspirations. I cherished these moments. His presence brought a sense of warmth and security that I had taken for granted. I saw a smile on his face, a genuine one that I hadn't seen in a long time. It appeared that he, too, was content with this newfound togetherness. However, the tranquil surface masked a turbulent undercurrent. Whenever my parents were alone, there were hushed conversations, sometimes escalating into angry, incomprehensible quarrels. The whispers in the night, the stifled sobs, and the sound of shattered glass seeping through the walls painted a picture of something deeply amiss. For me, it was like witnessing a storm brewing in the distance, feeling the tension in the air, yet being too young to fully comprehend its gravity. I'd find myself lying in my bed at night, the murmurs of my parents in the next room becoming a disconcerting lullaby. Their voices, once full of love, had grown sharp and strained. It was as if a shadow had fallen upon our family, one that I couldn't fathom, let alone articulate. The harmonious melody of our family life was gradually shifting into a discordant tune, and the innocence of my childhood was beginning to shatter, piece by piece. The awakening to our family's financial struggles became more evident as my requests for a bit of money to buy candy were met with reluctant "no’s. It was a tough realization. I knew we weren't wealthy like some of the other kids, but this felt like a whole new level of not having enough. Then came the day when we all gathered around and my father, with a sombre expression, started explaining everything. He said, "Money's become tight for us. For some reason, both your mother and I can't seem to find work right now, and it's putting a strain on our family. So, we're going to have to start saving and being more careful with our expenses." His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of reality. It was a moment when childhood innocence clashed with the grown-up world, and I began to understand that our family faced challenges unlike any we had encountered before. For nearly a year, our family navigated the relentless grip of financial hardship. My parents, once the symbols of resilience, tried every avenue to secure work, but it seemed like an unyielding storm that wouldn't pass. When you're backed into a corner, when all doors seem shut, the heart often turns to a higher power. And so, in our darkest hour, we turned to God. It was a choice born out of desperation, a plea for divine intervention. Prayers became our solace, our flickering candle in the dimness of uncertainty. Soon, a humble priest began to visit our home. His presence, with his simple robes and kind eyes, brought a sense of hope. He would lead us in prayers, his words infused with the power of faith. In the midst of our struggles, these sacred moments offered a glimmer of solace, like a gentle breeze in a scorching desert. With each visit, our family found strength in unity and solace in spirituality. We clung to the belief that perhaps, through our devotion, we might find a path out of the darkness that had engulfed us. It was a time when faith illuminated our lives and allowed us to endure the most challenging of days. During one of the priest's visits, a chilling suggestion sent shivers down our spines. He recommended a blood sacrifice as a means to appease the unseen forces that held our family captive. The very thought was nightmarish, a concept that filled our innocent hearts with dread. On the fateful day, our home was filled with a palpable aura of foreboding. My parents had bought a rooster for the grim ritual. I can still feel the terror that washed over me as I witnessed the brutal act. The rooster's feathers, once vibrant, now matted with crimson, its desperate cries piercing the air. I turned my gaze away, but the haunting sounds of its demise remained etched in my memory. In my panic, I grabbed my younger sister, and together we sought refuge in different rooms. Our hearts raced as the sounds of the sacrifice continued to echo through the house. The priest performed a gruesome act, sprinkling the rooster's blood and shattered bones throughout our home. With an ominous proclamation, he assured us that our lives would change within a month. It was a moment when terror intertwined with desperation, and our family took a dark step into the unknown, clinging to the belief that this horrifying ritual might finally break the curse that had plagued us. As 30 agonizing days passed, the promised change remained elusive. Desperation gave way to a haunting realization that the priest's rituals might not hold the key to our salvation. With each failed attempt, the sacrifices grew more grotesque, a descent into a nightmare that seemed to have no end. Next, it was a goat, its cries of anguish piercing the air as it met a gruesome fate at the hands of the priest. The once-tranquil walls of our home were now stained with the horrors of blood and death. Yet still, nothing shifted, and our family's suffering persisted. The darkness continued to tighten its grip, and in a final desperate act, the priest led us to a calf. The innocence of the calf mirrored our own, and its sacrifice was a brutal reminder of the lengths we would go to break the curse that had enveloped us. It was a gruesome progression into a world of pain and despair, as the priest's promises began to crumble like brittle leaves in a relentless storm. During the next visit from the priest, something transpired that left my parents in a state of bewilderment. They refused to divulge any details to us, their children, but the furrowed brows, the hushed conversations, and the pensive looks on their faces betrayed that something ominous was afoot. What followed was a series of days that felt like a surreal, twisted dream. It was as if the world itself had been turned upside down. Our meals were no longer meager; they were sumptuous feasts filled with sweets and delights, a stark contrast to the simple, humble meals we had grown accustomed to. New clothes adorned our bodies, replacing the worn and threadbare ones we once wore. My young heart, in its innocence, believed that our happy days had finally dawned. For the next 30 days, our family lived in a world that seemed touched by magic. Whatever we wished for, we received. Toys, treats, adventures—our desires were fulfilled as if by some benevolent genie. The laughter of children filled the house, and for a brief moment, it felt like we were in a paradise. But this happiness was a veil, one that concealed the true source of our newfound abundance. The adults in the house wore expressions of sorrow, their eyes filled with unshed tears. They wept in silence throughout the night, their sobs resonating through the darkness. As a child, I couldn't grasp the complexities of the situation, but I sensed that something was terribly amiss. The strange turn of events had cast a haunting shadow over our home, a shadow that even the brightest days could not dispel. It was a time when our family's destiny took a sinister turn, and the true cost of our altered reality remained hidden from us, like a secret too dreadful to unveil. The pivotal day arrived, cloaked in a shroud of foreboding. The priest, now joined by two others dressed identically, seemed to hold an eerie authority over the gathering. There was a sense that he was the orchestrator of this macabre ceremony, his words carrying a sinister weight. We were all adorned in our new clothes, a facade of celebration masking the unsettling reality beneath. The air was heavy with the anticipation of a feast, but it wasn't the kind of feast one might expect. Instead, it was a feast of dread, a culmination of horrors lurking beneath the veneer of festivities. Seated by the pyre, I sensed something amiss. My parents and my youngest sister were conspicuously absent, lingering in the bedroom. It was as if they were running late, yet an inexplicable unease settled within me. Then, they appeared. My sister, my innocent darling, was dressed as if for a wedding, flowers adorning her head. A sense of dread began to unfurl in my heart. We gathered around the pyre, my sister seated between my parents, her presence adorned with an unnatural significance. As the priest commenced the prayer, the focus shifted inexorably toward my sister. My parents received items from the priest, urging her to partake. The realization began to creep into my consciousness like a creeping mist. The priest was orchestrating the same ritual with my sister that he had performed with the rooster and the goat. The grim truth began to unravel before me. A veil of terror descended over the gathering as the sinister nature of the ceremony became apparent. My sister, dressed as a bride, was not part of a joyous celebration but a dreadful offering in a ritual I had once witnessed in horror. The sense of horror and impending doom thickened the air, and I found myself ensnared in a nightmare with no escape. The prayer ended, and the chilling moment was upon us. The priest produced two ropes, and my parents, their faces etched with an eerie determination, began to bind my sister's hands and legs. Her cries of terror filled the room as she struggled against the bindings, tears streaming down her cheeks. Yet my parents, her own protectors, whispered reassurances that this was only temporary, that everything would be fine soon. My elder sister sobbed in sorrow, her gaze filled with a knowledge I had yet to grasp. I approached my mother, the panic in my voice clear, "What are you doing, Mom?" She forced a smile, "It's just for a few minutes, dear, and then everything will be fine." I desperately wanted to believe her, but the chilling truth was becoming impossible to ignore. Events unfurled with dizzying speed, too surreal to fully comprehend. My little sister's cries grew more desperate as my mother tried to comfort her. Then the priest issued a command to the other two, and they gently laid my sister down, her tears mirroring the unspoken anguish in my parents' eyes. In a last, futile attempt to escape this nightmarish scene, I tried to run, but their hands closed around me, drawing me back into the room. I was informed that everyone had to participate for the ritual to succeed, and my heart sank further into dread. There she lay, in the middle of the room, bound and helpless, her eyes filled with pleading tears, searching for hope in my parents' faces. We encircled her, holding hands, as my parents and the other two priests chanted a prayer, their voices carrying the weight of an unspeakable horror. The main priest approached, a gleaming knife in hand, and in that moment, the room became a crucible of fear and despair, a nightmarish tableau from which there seemed to be no escape. In a nightmarish tableau, the priest sat beside my sister, and my eyes remained transfixed in unrelenting horror. The haunting chant of the prayer intensified, and the grip on my hand tightened, preventing any futile attempt to break free. I struggled to release my hand from my parents' hold, but their determination held fast. The priest began to recite an incantation, and with a sense of dread that seemed to hang in the air like a storm cloud, he sprinkled water on the knife. My sister, her pleading gaze darting to our mother, found no solace in her closed eyes. In fact, as the prayer reached a crescendo, everyone else in the room had closed their eyes except for the priest, myself, and my sister. She locked eyes with me, a silent plea that pierced my very soul. It was as though her gaze implored, "Aren't you going to help me? Why do you just stand there, brother? Can't you save me?" Her scream of desperation began to escape her lips, but the priest, with a chilling and firm hand, silenced her, muffling her cries. Still, her eyes remained locked onto mine, beseeching me for salvation. The priest, his voice now a crescendo of chilling resonance, brought the knife perilously close to my sister's throat. The room fell into an eerie silence, a deafening void that echoed with our collective dread. In an instant, he sliced her throat, and an explosive burst of blood gushed forth, staining the room in a grotesque display of unspeakable horror. It was in that very moment when I went numb, the world blurring into a grotesque nightmare. The two priests, rather than rushing to her aid as I had initially hoped, grabbed pans with an unsettling efficiency, calmly collecting the blood that flowed like a malevolent river. I remained locked in my own body, my gaze fixated on my sister's lifeless eyes, which slowly glazed over as her body stilled, leaving nothing but the eerie silence of death in its wake. What followed was an even more nightmarish descent into the abyss, but by then, I had become a mere shell, numbed to the horrors unfolding before my eyes. As the blood flow ceased, the two accompanying priests calmly began to sprinkle water on the crimson pool, while the main priest brought forth a larger, more ominous knife. My parents, their faces a peculiar mixture of grief and reassurance, consoled my elder sister with promises of her being with God, in a place of eternal happiness. Meanwhile, I remained fixed in place, a silent spectator to the unspeakable. With a chilling calmness, the priest proceeded to undress my sister, her lifeless form a grotesque canvas on which he began to carve. He severed her head, then her arms, and then her legs, each macabre stroke slicing her into even smaller, uniform pieces. What came next was a sequence of horrifying rituals performed on these dismembered fragments. The priest then beckoned all of us, his eerie command leading us to my bedroom. A hole had been dug beneath my bed, a gaping maw of dread that awaited its gruesome cargo. We gathered around the pit of despair as I, the unwitting instrument of this malevolent act, poured the severed pieces into the gaping maw. The room was thick with the unspeakable, a silence punctuated only by the ghastly truth before us. The other two priests brought sand to fill the hole, covering my sister's remains in a sinister secret, buried beneath my bed. And there she lay, concealed in the darkest corner of our lives, an eternal slumber beneath the very place I would rest my head, a sinister presence that would forever haunt my dreams. The priest's dreadful ceremony left our home drenched in a chilling atmosphere, where the malevolent presence of the recent bloodshed lingered like a haunting specter. After sprinkling the blood across our once-humble abode, the priest and his accomplices departed, leaving us to sit in the same room where the unthinkable act had transpired just a few hours ago. It was a room that now held our unspoken anguish, a chilling reminder of the price we had paid in pursuit of an elusive prosperity. I spent countless nights lying next to my sister, haunted by the unspeakable horrors that had befallen our family. Sometimes, in the silence of the night, I would feel her presence beside me, as though she were reaching out from beyond the grave, seeking solace in her brother's embrace. Days turned into weeks, and we waited with bated breath for the promised change to manifest. We wore our new clothes, surrounded by the opulence that had suddenly come into our lives. Yet, despite the fleeting comforts, the undeniable truth remained: the prosperity we had been assured had yet to materialize. The question loomed over us like a shadow, casting doubts upon the price we had paid, leaving us to wonder whether the horrors we had endured were justified or whether they were not enough to fulfill the dark promise. As I sit in the same room where my sister's life was mercilessly extinguished, I find myself plagued by a gnawing worry. The uncertainty of what to do next, the haunting presence of a secret buried beneath my bed, and the lingering dread of what we had unleashed upon our family weigh heavily upon my heart. The sinister events of that night refuse to fade into the past, and the answers to our darkest questions remain as elusive as ever, casting a perpetual pall over our lives.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/178fg75/the_price_for_prosperity/

nosleep

Curious-Alps7781

Something ran in front of my truck late one night. I barely escaped with my life.

I work for a logging company that sits far out in the boonies, surrounded by at least fifteen to seventeen miles of forest in all directions. The nearest town, which is the one I live in, is roughly eighteen miles away from it. I’ve worked there for the last eight years, but recently, with inflation beginning to ravage my savings account as prices for everything from rent to gas have shot through the roof, I’ve volunteered for late night shifts in order to make as much overtime pay as I’m allowed to. I always heard from some of the guys working the night shifts that the woods, as well as the drive out of them at two or three in the morning take on a far darker and almost sinister ambience. But, truth be told, I always wrote their words off as simply being frightened, something that I thought was being stupid for grown men from their twenties to fifties to still have. After all, it was like a grown man still needing a nightlight in their bedroom, as if they were still afraid of the boogeyman in the closet. And so, I laughed it off. Until one night, one I wish I could forget, but never will be able to. I’d just finished my shift for the night at just after 2 AM, having spent the last seven hours of overtime allowed for the pay period bathed in the harsh white spotlights as I’d used the forklift to move boards which had just finished being sliced in the saw room to a waiting trailer outside, which would be hooked up to an 18 wheeler and hauled away later in the morning. Parking the forklift back in its bay, I hopped out of it and strode into the break room, where a few of the remaining men on shift, along with one of the two security guards sat on the two ratty couches, watching what looked like an old 50s monster movie on the ancient TV hooked up to an equally ancient VCR. Grabbing my punch ticket out of its slot, I jammed it into the clock, hearing the familiar *clunk* as it verified my end of shift. “You done for the night, Robbins?” Barry, a big, burly man with a thick beard asked, looking away from the movie. “Wanna stay for a little while longer and join us? We’re watching *The Monster that Challenged the World*” He gestured at the screen. I shook my head. “Thanks, Bar, but not tonight. I’m honestly wiped out, and all I wanna do is go home, grab a quick bite to eat and crash” I checked my watch. “I’m not even gonna get back to town until close to 3:30 or 4 in the morning as it is” He nodded and turned back to the movie, raising a hand to wave me farewell, but another of the workers, Damon, looked up at my words. I was surprised to see a look of apprehension had filled his face. “Uh, did you just say you won’t get home until almost four?” he asked tentatively. “Yeah, with the long-ass winding road through the woods, it’s gonna be an hour or two” I tilted my head at him. “Why?” Damon shared a look with a few of the guys he shared the couch with, who seemed to wear the same expression on their faces. I repeated my question to him. After a long pause, he answered. “Look, Mike, maybe it’d be better if you stayed here for a little while longer? You know, crash on the couch with us, have a beer and some pretzels and watch the movie. At least until after 3 AM’s passed” A mix of confusion and slight annoyance wafted through me. *I already said I just wanted to go home and go to bed. Damon’s a good guy, but I swear he’s hard of hearing sometimes*. Using the last of my patience, though, I decided to indulge him. “And, *why*, exactly, is that?” I asked. Another look was shared between the men. Spencer, the dude to Damon’s right spoke up. “Look, Mike, I know you don’t exactly believe in…well, most things, but, I can’t in good conscience let you walk out the door without warning you. None of us can” Barry let out an exasperated groan. “Oh, for God’s sake, Spencer, *enough* with the superstitious bullshit” he growled. The realization washed over me as well, and I rolled my eyes. *Oh, freakin’ brilliant. Another spook story of theirs that’s got their jimmies in a rustle*. Both Spencer and Damon shot a glare at Barry. “You can mock us all you want to, Bar, but there is something out there. Something that wanders the woods in the late hours of the night. Something that isn’t natural” The last tendrils of patience had snapped, replaced by exasperation of my own. “Dude, there is nothing out there besides regular forest animals” I said, willing my voice to stay calm. Damon stood up, getting in the way of the TV. Barry and a few of the others mumbled for him to move, but he ignored them. “Was it regular forest animals that ripped that trucker out of his rig that night twelve years ago? Was it regular forest animals that, for whatever reason, busted in to the old mannequin factory and didn’t break anything, but took some of the dummies?” His voice rose a few octaves. “Was it regular animals that made that entire family disappear while camping three years ago, leaving behind a tent that looked like Jason Voorhees had taken a machete to it?! Was-“ He was, thankfully, cut off by Barry, who’d stood up and got in Damon’s face. “ENOUGH!” he yelled, his deep, booming voice almost seeming to rattle the break room’s windows. The smaller man immediately went silent. The shift manager took a deep breath, then spoke through what sounded like gritted teeth. “*Enough* with the bullshit, Montclair. You do that again, and I will be personally speaking to HR and recommending your termination. Along with the rest of you that’ve drunk the Kool-Aid about it. We’ve dealt with the dumbass stories for months. We put up with it. Not anymore” He narrowed his eyes. “Got it?” After a few tense moments, Damon nodded, turning and sitting back down, looking straight ahead at the screen. He looked beyond pissed. *Tough shit*. Barry turned and motioned for me to go. “Go ahead, Robbins. Have a good night, and drive safe” And with that, he, too, sat back down to watch the movie. Grabbing my flannel jacket and phone out of my locker, I left the break room without looking back. The chilly autumn air smashed into my face as I pushed open the metal door to the outside, the sounds of the surrounding forest filling the air. I could hear crickets or cicadas chirping away in the grass nearby. An owl hooted a ways away in the trees, while what sounded like an elk let out its call. And far in the distance, I heard what sounded like a mountain lion snarl. I stopped for a second, drinking in the peaceful ambience as I attempted to calm down. *Dude, that is such bullshit. I’m sick of so many people still being gullible enough to believe in the thing that goes bump in the night. What are we, still in elementary school?* I let out a deep breath. “Just brush it off, man” I muttered to myself. My words made me feel somewhat better, and I began walking towards the makeshift parking lot at the far edge of the property. My truck, a dark green International Scout, sat in the middle of the tiny line of cars and trucks remaining. Unlocking the door and climbing inside, I gave my head a small shake, then slid the key into the ignition. The V8 rumbled to life with a growl, and I flicked on the headlights before shoving the gear stick into first and pulling out of the complex. Everyone always called it a highway, but in reality, it was little more than a narrow, two lane road that joined the two communities on either side of it. The branches of the pine and fir trees overlapped overhead, blocking out almost all of the moonlight that tried to stream down from the heavens. *Almost as if they’re trying to reach down and suffocate anything below them*. I shook my head. “Not the moment for analogies, man” I muttered, then flipped open the center console. Pulling out an old 8-track tape, I slid it into the radio and turned up the volume. The sound of guitars began, followed by singing as Seals & Crofts kicked into *Summer Breeze*. I leaned back into my seat, shifting the truck into fourth gear and letting the empty road and song empty my mind of the recent altercation. For the next 45 minutes I drove, the only sounds heard being the rumble of the engine, the hum of the off road tires on the pavement, and the music drifting out from the speakers. The tape had just ended, and I was fumbling in my center console for a new one when something flashed across the road, momentarily bathing itself in the headlights. I looked up just in time to see it scamper across the road, less than eight feet from my front bumper. I let out an involuntary yell. “Shit!” I slammed my feet onto the clutch and brake pedals. The rear tires locked up, and the screeching of the tires filled my ears. The truck fishtailed for a moment, then came to a stop near the grassy shoulder. I sat bolt upright in my seat for a few seconds. My breathing came in quick, ragged gasps, and I felt my heart thundering in my chest as I attempted to calm myself. Eventually, my heartbeat slowed, and my mind kicked into gear. *What in the hell was that?* Then another thought. *I didn’t hit it, did I?* I let out a sigh, hoping I hadn’t; repairing a 51 year-old truck when it came to body panels was not cheap in the least bit. Putting the gear shift into neutral, I hit first the floor mounted dimmer switch, then the parking brake. The edge of the road and forest beyond lit up in the high beams, and grabbing a flashlight from the glove box, I kicked open the driver’s door and hopped out into the night. Even with my jacket on, the air was chilly, chillier than it had been at the logging mill. Flicking on the light, I walked around to the front of the truck and aimed it at the grille. “Oh, thank God” I muttered, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding in as I saw there was no damage. Turning away, I looked out into the night. Whatever it had been, it seemed as though it were long gone by now. I couldn’t hear the noise of anything crashing away in the undergrowth, a telltale sign of an animal still nearby. That’s when I noticed something. I could hear the rumble of the truck’s engine just behind me. I could hear the faint whistle of the wind whipping through the maze of trees that surrounded the road. Off to my right, I could even faintly hear the splash of the creek that followed the road through the woods. But I couldn’t hear anything else. No animals, be they insects, birds or larger let out any sound. It was completely silent. An involuntary chill ran up my spine, and I shivered. I’ve lived out near the woods my entire life, and never before, or since have I ever heard the forest so silent. It wasn’t right, it was…*unnatural*. Another chill ran up my spine, and I looked around, panning the flashlight beam to either side of the dark road. I had just decided on getting back in my truck when the feeling washed over me. And, alone on a two lane road with no streetlights in the middle of nowhere, it wasn’t a welcome feeling. It was the sensation of being watched, of being observed. I felt my pulse begin to quicken again, as I realized just how vulnerable I was out here. I *did* keep a pistol in the center console, just in case I ever needed it, but I’d left it in the truck. A decision I began to regret. “Oh-kay, time to get back in the truck, move your ass, man” I said softly to myself. The feeling of being watched was getting stronger by the second, and my mind flashed to the scream of the mountain lion I’d heard earlier. To a big cat, I would be easy pickings out here. My decision made, I finally forced myself to turn around and begin walking back to the open driver’s door. That’s when one of the worst feelings I’ve ever had crashed into me. It was what I can only describe as the sensation that prey feels when a predator is rapidly bearing down on it. I heard no sounds of an approaching animal. But the feeling, which morphed into a sort of panic grew stronger than I thought possible. I broke first into a jog, then a run. I was in a full sprint by the time I reached the open door, and it felt like whatever was pursuing me was literally right on my heels. Letting out a strangled scream, I flew into the truck, slamming the door shut behind me and jamming down on the lock button. I fumbled into the center console, my hands gripping my pistol. Yanking myself upright, I turned and aimed the gun through the closed window… At nothing. There was nothing beyond the glass staring back at me. Nothing immediately visible around the truck at all. Craning my neck, I couldn’t see anything down near the ground, either. I grabbed the flashlight from the floor of the truck, and keeping the gun in my free hand, aimed it at the woods to either side. Nothing there either. After a moment, I let out a loud *whoosh* of my breath and reclined back into the seat. Then I began to laugh softly to myself. “You fucking pussy. Are you *really* letting Damon and Spencer’s spook story get to you? Seriously?” Still laughing, I clicked off the flashlight, then stuck the gun back in the center console. Replacing the flashlight in the glovebox, I shook my head as I reached for my seatbelt. *I thought you were better than this, dude. It was nothing more than an animal crossing the road. A bear or deer or elk or something. Nothing more*. I glanced at the glow in the dark face of my watch. *2:53 AM*. I let out another sigh, then turned off the high beams and parking brake before pulling the truck back onto the road. Choosing to eschew grabbing another tape out of the center console, I instead tuned the radio to the nearest station to occupy my time. The smooth, silky sound of a man conducting the late night local farm report fell from the speakers, and I began to relax again as I listened to the price of beef and chicken being listed. After about twenty minutes, all tension had left my body. *I’ll be out of the woods and pulling back into my driveway in less than half an hour*, I thought. It was reassuring, and I let out another soft laugh. *Can’t wait to tell Barry about this tomorrow night. Especially after that whole little fiasco back there*. Focusing again on the road, I leaned down and turned the volume up on the radio a little. The farm report had ended, and the man was now giving us the weather forecast for the next week. Leaning back into the seat again, my eyes followed the headlights as they guided me around each dark bend. What felt like another ten minutes passed, and I began to blink my eyelids more than usual. Sleepiness was beginning to intrude itself on me quicker than I’d anticipated, and it was worrying, to say the least. I hadn’t drank any coffee or soda in the last few hours, and the last thing I wanted to do was fall asleep at the wheel and wrap myself around a tree. I grimaced at the mental image of my Scout being peeled off a thick pine tree, my mangled corpse along with it. “Alright, guess we’re doing this, then” I muttered, and reached into the center console for what I knew was there. I came up with a lighter, and a battered pack of Marlboros. I’d almost completely quit smoking after my uncle had died of cancer three years ago, but I’d held onto one final pack for if I ever got stressed enough or simply needed the pick me up. Two lone cigarettes peered out at me from the pack. I pulled on out, glancing at the final remaining one inside the pack as I crooked it into my mouth. “And then, there was one final little Indian remaining” I muttered, remembering the old story I’d been taught as a kid. Pushing in the truck’s cigarette lighter, I again returned my full focus to the road as I waited for it to heat up. The sound of the man’s voice on the radio had given way to soft static. *Great, I’m in a damn dead zone*. I snapped the radio off and listened to the truck’s engine instead. My mind again drifted back to my near miss miles back, and I couldn’t help but feel another chill as I remembered the overwhelming feeling which had chased me back to my truck. It was interrupted as the popping sound of the cigarette lighter came, signaling it was ready. I pulled it out and pushed the red hot tip to the end of the smoke for a moment, before replacing it in its socket and puffing out a cloud of smoke. “Get a freakin’ grip, Mike. It was nothing more than an animal. You’re okay. You’re going to be-“ My eyes widened about as far as they could possibly go as I rounded a particularly sharp bend in the road, the shape right in the middle catching the glare of my lights. “FUCK ME!” I screamed, slamming on my brakes for the second time that night. The truck fishtailed, coming to a stop less than fifteen feet from the shape. My teeth were gripping the cigarette so hard, I thought I was about to bite through it. But, unlike the first time I’d come screeching to a halt, whatever was in the road didn’t move. It still lay there, and for a second it didn’t register what I was seeing. I saw a lump. I saw black. I saw yellow…*Wait a minute, that shade of yellow isn’t natural...what the…?* I leaned forward, feeling my heart suddenly grow heavy in my chest as I realized what I was seeing. *That’s a fucking person…oh, oh hell*. I leaned back in my seat, putting a hand over my mouth as the gravity of the situation slammed home. Someone, either a hiker or somebody else had been injured; by what, God only knew. And they’d either come to rest in the middle of the road, or had dragged themselves onto it to be seen. It was just a miracle that I, doing close to 45 miles an hour, had been able to stop in time before hitting them. I immediately flicked on my high beams, as well as the hazards to be seen by anyone else who might be on the road this late at night. Pushing the parking brake on, I unbuckled myself and began to reach for the door before stopping. Somewhere deep in my memory, something I’d seen on YouTube was working its way to the surface. It was a video of a similar circumstance; someone driving on an empty street late at night, when they’d come across a body in the middle of the road. They’d stopped to investigate, but before they’d gotten out of the car, dozens of people had swarmed through the woods towards the vehicle. They’d managed to get away, but only just. This situation almost felt a little too much like that. It was almost too convenient, too well placed. Every fiber of my being was telling me to put the truck back into gear, drive around the figure and floor it the hell out of the woods. Just call the cops when I got to town. But the small voice in the back of my head, my conscience, was whispering to me as well. *If he’s really hurt, and you leave him to die, you will never forgive yourself, and you know that damn well*. I tried arguing with myself, but it persisted. I hated how it was right. “Shit” I hissed, my decision made. But there was no way in hell that I was going out unarmed. If it was, in fact, a setup, the people responsible would have to dodge quite a few .45 caliber rounds coming their way. Reaching into the center console, I again pulled out the pistol, along with a spare magazine that I tucked into the pocket of my jeans. Grabbing the flashlight, I slowly unlocked the driver’s door and pushed it open. The sounds of the woods immediately flooded into the interior. But I still wasn’t taking any chances. Every fiber of my being was on high alert. And I wasn’t so much as stepping out of my truck without being prepared. My truck sits up on about a four or five inch lift kit, which leaves a large amount of clearance between the undercarriage and the ground. *Enough for a person to quickly scoot underneath and hide*. The thought turned over in my head again, and I flicked on the flashlight. Gripping both it and the pistol in slightly sweaty hands, I tensed my body, then simply dropped out onto the pavement. I dropped to one knee in a crouch, snapping both the gun and light up to aim underneath the vehicle. To my relief, nobody lurked there. No eyes glared back at me. Ducking my head slightly, I aimed out from underneath the truck at the woods on the opposite side. Still nothing. Taking a deep breath, I stood up slowly, reaching out and slowly closing the driver’s door shut behind me. I didn’t want anyone getting in behind me and hiding in the backseat. Taking a few steps forward, I moved to the front of the truck, then moved so I was standing directly between the twin headlight beams. I stood there for a moment, listening hard. The sounds of the woods continued, providing me a little comfort. However, I noted with a small twinge of uneasiness that a bit of a thick mist was seeping in from the surrounding woods. It was already beginning to creep across the road, the white tendrils looking like fingers reaching out to ensnare anything in its path. Swallowing slightly, and keeping the pistol and light trained out ahead of me, I slowly began to walk forward, attempting to keep my boots from rapping too loudly against the pavement. I kept myself between the headlights as I approached the figure lying in the road. I could see now that it seemed to be someone dressed in a tracksuit, as though they’d been jogging when whatever had happened to them…had happened. But that made no sense. It was the middle of the night; no person with common sense would jog on a road with no lights this late, no matter how dedicated they were. A pit was forming in my stomach, and a feeling began to settle over me, but it was one I pushed away. But I kept moving my flashlight to either side of the road, my finger tightening slightly around the trigger. As I came within five feet of the figure, I saw they were laying face down; a mop of brown hair concealed their features. Swallowing a little harder, I took the final few steps until I stood next to it. I knelt down, reaching out with the hand that held the light and tapping the figure on the shoulder. “Hey!” I whispered, not daring to raise my voice any louder. There was no response. I shook the figure, first gently, then a little harder. “Hey!” I repeated. No answer. Taking a deep breath and preparing to face the worst, I gripped the figure by the shoulder and rolled it over onto its back. I let out a loud gasp, almost dropping the flashlight before training it on its face. It wasn’t a person. It was a fucking store *mannequin*, one which’d had a wig stapled to it to hide the obvious white head. A sense of shock briefly overtook me, and then was replaced by another feeling: dread. “Ohhhh, fuck me” I hissed, realizing how stupid I’d been. I’d just walked directly where someone had wanted me. My eyes flicked up and all around me at the woods. Which had suddenly gone eerily silent. As silent as they had been when I’d almost hit…whatever I had. *Fuuuccckkk*. I began to get to my feet, when my eyes were drawn back towards the mannequin. Something dripped down from beneath the wig onto the dummy’s cheek. Something red. Realizing what it was, I suddenly stumbled to my feet. *That’s not a freaking wig….oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!* Fear and dread was now coursing through my veins, and I snapped the gun and light around a little too wildly. The silence around me was now deafening, and I began to rapidly back up towards my truck. That was when I froze. The feeling I’d had miles back had returned with a vengeance. It washed over me like a tsunami, and I again felt like a gazelle being hungrily gazed at by a lion. I forced myself to take another step back, still looking around wildly, then froze again as my beam landed on something. Something that was not natural. All the air escaped from my lungs in a ragged gasp. The shape rose up from the forest floor, about thirty or forty feet in the woods to my left. It was pure black, even blacker than the darkness that surrounded it. I couldn’t make out any distinguishing features. But I knew it was there. Something red caught my beam’s gaze, along with something white that curved up beneath it. For a single, horrific second, I realized what I was seeing. And then I was screaming. Screaming, backpedaling towards my truck, and unloading every round in my pistol at it. But they did nothing. It was as if the rounds simply *melted* through it, or were absorbed and didn’t harm it at all. It let out a sound, and as panicked as my mind was, the terrifying understanding hit me: it was fucking *laughing*. And then it was suddenly a blur of motion, rushing towards me. It didn’t make a sound, more seeming to float over the ground than run on it. *The same blur I saw earlier*. I turned and dashed for the slightly ajar driver’s door, yanking it open and flying inside. I scrambled for the door handle, yanking it shut. Just in time as well. I felt it slam into the side of the truck, hard enough to rock it on its suspension. Jamming down the lock, I dropped the empty gun and light and fumbled with the parking brake. As I snapped it off and sat upright, I risked a glance out the driver’s window as I reached for the shifter. And I screamed again. Because it was pressed, hard, up against the side of the truck. I felt an odd sensation, and then horror filled me as I realized what it was trying to do. *It’s trying to flip the fucking thing over!* The understanding spurred me to move, and I jammed the truck into first gear, my foot slamming down on the gas. I don’t think it was prepared for that. I think it must’ve thought it had paralyzed me enough with fear, able to give it enough time to turn over the Scout on its roof. Where it could’ve taken it’s time to get in at me. It finally did let out a sound as the truck ripped itself out of its grasp, peeling away with a screech of the tires. It let out a shriek of rage. The sound chilled my blood with how angry and vicious it sounded. But I refused to let it stop me. I slammed the clutch, wrenching the truck from second to third gear harder than I probably should. All I wanted was to get as far away from….from it as I possibly could. As the accelerator climbed towards fifty miles an hour, I snatched the old flip phone from the passenger seat, opening it and hoping to see any reception bars at all. “Damn it!” I yelled, seeing exactly zero showing in the top right hand corner of the screen. *Still in the dead zone*. Dropping it and slamming the truck into fourth gear, I instead concentrated on keeping myself on the road. My hands gripped the steering wheel hard, and I heard the tires screech in protest as I took a turn too fast. I glanced in the rear view mirror for a moment. And felt all the blood drain out of my face. “Oh, you’ve gotta be *fucking* kidding me” I moaned out. The black shape was chasing after me. At what my speedometer now said was over sixty-five. And it was gaining. I stomped my foot to the floor, the engine roaring louder than I ever heard it as it momentarily went airborne on a dip. Still, the shape grew closer, and I saw the same shapes appear on it. The same red and white. And it made me scream again. Not taking my eyes off of the road, I reached down and snatched the gun from the floor. Using one hand to steer, I ejected the empty magazine and fumbled the spare from my pocket. The speedometer was approaching eighty, and I could now see only the black shape filling the rear view mirror. Slapping the magazine into the gun, I racked the slide and turned to fire again. I knew it was useless; the thing had brushed off ten rounds like it’d been nothing. But it was the only thing I knew to do. I felt something ram itself into the truck’s tailgate. The rear end slid out a little bit, and I was terrified of going into a spin. Letting out a scream of defiance, I spun around in my seat and aimed directly at it. That was when it let out another shriek of rage, louder than the first one. And then it stopped. I didn’t realize it at first, turning back for a second to see where I was going. When I turned back, there was nothing behind me. Nothing but the red glow of my taillights. *What?* I quickly looked around, afraid it was moving to try and ram me from the side. But as I looked around, I saw something up ahead. Something rapidly approaching. Something that made me begin to half-laugh, half-cry with relief. It was the first set of streetlights, marking the end of the forest, and the entrance to town. That was two weeks ago. I haven’t been able to so much as step outside after dark since. Even though I know that, for whatever reason, it couldn’t leave the forest, I’m still terrified that it’ll find a way to get me. I haven’t been back to work since that night, haven’t answered any of Barry or HR’s phone calls; hell, I’m close to quitting and just packing up and moving. Moving somewhere far away from here, maybe to the city. Somewhere which always has bright lights and people and safety. That thing that Damon and Spencer and the others spoke about? It’s *real*. It’s real, and it’s out there. It’s smart enough to be able to set up traps to lure people right where it wants them. Which means all the things they spoke about, all the missing people, the campers, the trucker….*God*, I do not want to even think about what that monster could’ve done to them. Nor do I want to think about exactly where or *who* it got that scalp from. I already have nightmares, every single time I fall asleep. Nightmares of being back out on that empty road, this time the truck unable to start. Nightmares of hearing it laugh at me again. And nightmares of seeing those red eyes. And that wicked smile, one filled with rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth. Nobody will ever believe me if I tell them. Hell, I’m pretty sure you won’t believe me, you reading this. I don’t really care. But I need to warn you. Warn you of one thing. If you ever find yourself driving down a dark and empty road through the woods, do not stop. Do not ever stop for anything. Keep your eyes straight ahead, and if you ever see anything flicking through the trees, or across the road, keep going. Because you never know what might be out there. Watching *you*.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1784xdf/something_ran_in_front_of_my_truck_late_one_night/

nosleep

JLGoodwin1990

I feel like a fly stuck to a trap.

​ In the summer, I went to a lake house with my boyfriend and a couple friends. I'll never forget the hot sun gracing my skin. The beautiful landscape of the crystal clear blue lake, surrounded by Oregon’s fine pine trees. Heaven. Nightfall we gathered in the living room to watch “*The Ritua*l" on Netflix with Buzzball mixed slushies and pizza. It was warm, cheesy and the crust was crunchy. Everybody felt good, laughing. A cozy night in wearing thin socks with shorts and tank tops meanwhile, the guys in sweatpants and hoodies. Going 4 years strong with my now fiance. He makes me feel protected when he looks at me no matter how far or close. The love we have and the love we make are 2 different worlds. I fell in love and created the best memories on that day. I woke up with the sky. Watching from my window the increasing shades of blue. I was eerie. My dream was a gruesome depiction of my death. From the point-of-view of whoever was torturing me I saw myself kicking and screaming trying to escape. My feet were cold but sweating. I didn't notice I was lying by myself until I heard the door creak open behind me. It was my friend Silvia inviting me downstairs for breakfast. My fiance bought some fruit from a nearby farmers market. He brought the sweetest, juiciest strawberries and I used to think all strawberries were sour. That's when it started. I got a slight deja vu from a plate of pancakes placed in front of me. Nobody noticed. I was spacing out, not blinking for a solid 2 minutes. The rest of the trip I tried to blend in and pretend like I was fine. Since that dream my experiences have gotten worse. I was losing my mind. I did a little research on how to prevent deja vu and changed my routine. I started going to the gym regularly, changed my eating habits, stopped drinking, slept 8 hours, and meditated for clarity. For a moment I thought I had finally rolled the boulder to the top of the hill. Beginning of October. Rain had come more frequently but a thunderstorm caught me by surprise. Suddenly a lightning bolt struck the roof of my building. Frightened, I curled up on the couch as my chest felt like it was being pinched by giant fingers, my throat swelled up, and my legs fell asleep. At the moment all I could think about was this is my fault, this is a consequence for blocking my deja vu. All this time they were signals. Monday, 9th. I finished my routine in high spirits, continuing to go grocery shopping. In the car I heard a voice in my head like a whisper from a man I hadn't seen since I was 5 but thought nothing of it. Loading up the trunk I heard the voice again behind me in the store parking lot asking me about my shopping cart. I turned my head recognizing my moms distant step-brother. It was out of place to greet him as family since he didn’t recognize me. He’s tall, has a charming smile, fresh haircut, hunky yet smooth voice, flirtatious personality, and funny. I had no doubt he was a great guy. I moved all my stuff and we parted ways. As I got in my car before I could put my keys in the ignition my right ear started ringing in pain like a dog whistle. It didn’t occur to me it was a warning. Friday, 13th. Late afternoon, I called my moms step brother asking if he saw my wallet in the shopping cart hoping he picked it up. He said there was none so I returned to Winco with my fiance to report a missing wallet. On our way back home the radio reported breaking news that a serial killer was found and arrested for murder and kidnapping, driving a stolen vehicle stashed with drugs and weapons. I checked my phone. His disturbing videos were circulating all over social media of his heinous acts when I got the ultimate gut wrenching deja vu. A 20 year old girl being attacked in the same exact pattern I saw in my dream. My neighbors recorded The man being handcuffed on the lawn of my building and on the grass left behind was my wallet. The 55 year old man was my moms step brother. They found his victims near and in the lake we visited this summer.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/178im58/i_feel_like_a_fly_stuck_to_a_trap/

nosleep

cutgvsey

I snuck out to a party when my parents didn't allow me to. I regret it. (Pt 1)

My family is very superstitious. They were always very cautious and obedient to myths. Of course, being born into a family like that, I was too. We lived in an area where most people believed in stuff like that, so it was a mutual feeling anyway. I lived with my older sister and my parents, and we were all a very close family. We would often talk to each other about everything, and tell each other stories and whatnot. Me and my sister were especially close. We shared a room so we would secretly talk about our parents when they annoyed us, or our disagreement and frustration in the things they said. My parents weren't very strict, but they would tell us creepy stories and myths to discipline us. One of the myths they told us about was an old lady who loved eating children and teenagers. They would call her the 'Nameless watcher' as she loved watching children disobey. Our parents warned us about her, saying that if we disobeyed their words, she would watch us in our sleep. And if we were naughty enough, she would sneak into our room at night and try to eat us, biting our arms and legs. They said we would wake up with bitemarks all over our limbs, and once these bitemarks start reaching our neck, she would give us one last visit before eating us whole. As a kid, that myth scared me the most. Of all the myths they told us, the myth of the Nameless Watcher was the most terrifying. Every time my parents scolded me, I would cry in fear, scared that the Nameless Watcher would find me and devour me. I even begged for forgiveness every night when I felt like I did something wrong, all just so that the 'Nameless Watcher' wouldn't eat me. But as I started entering my teen years, the myth sounded less believable, and it didn't scare me as much. One day, I got invited to a party. It was the first time I got invited to one, so I eagerly accepted. I asked my parents for permission as soon as I got home, but they refused, telling me it wasn't a great idea. "A party? You're 16, Andrea! Maybe if you had better grades, I'd let you, but you don't. Are you not going to study? Are you not worried about your future? Are you choosing a party over your future?" My mom yelled at me. I tried to argue with her, but she quickly interrupted me. "You listen to me, I'm your mother. I said no, and you're going to obey that," She paused for a moment, "or... You can choose to disobey me. That's your choice. But you're old enough to know the consequences, right? I've already told you about the Nameless Watcher, haven't I?" She gave me an arrogant smile and left the room, not letting me speak. I felt a wave of disappointment rush through me as I remembered those words. Why didn't she just let me go to one party? As usual, I ranted about it to my sister, who was willing to lend me her ear. She suggested I go out anyway, since I've never been to a party before. She encouraged me to sneak out and have fun, and so I agreed. It was 11 PM, and most of my family was asleep. I knew my sister slept a bit later, so I texted her, hoping she'd make sure I wouldn't get caught. She didn't reply or read the text yet, so I assumed she was busy and went on with my plan. My friends told me they'd pick me up a few houses away from mine so I wouldn't get caught. I left through one of the windows in my room, but as I was walking, I felt this sense of guilt washing over me. I knew it wasn't great that I was disobeying my parents, but I still did it anyway. I calmed myself down, reassuring myself it was fine and that one party wouldn't do any damage. Then, I remembered the Nameless Watcher. I felt a bit uneasy but laughed, why was I thinking of a children's myth? It was ridiculous anyway. It's not real. I walked around my neighborhood, confused. I tried to find my friend's car, but it was harder than I thought. After a while of searching, I finally found a car that resembled my friend's. It had the same license plate and number, and the model of the car was the exact same. I sighed with relief and approached it, but as I got closer, I saw that the passenger's windows were empty. My other friends were supposed to ride in the same car, so I was starting to doubt myself. My eyes shifted to the driver's window and I saw someone sitting in the seat. It wasn't my friend, I was sure. It was a figure with frizzy hair and long hands. I couldn't see its face because it was too dark, but I knew for a fact that whoever, or whatever, it was, it wasn't my friend. I froze for a moment, trying to think of logical explanation for this. Just then, the figure turned its head in my direction, and everything went black. I opened my eyes, and it seemed to be morning already. I was laying in my bed with my pyjamas. I couldn't remember anything that happened before, aside from the figure and the party invitation. I opened my room door, but my family, even my sister, was absent. There was a note by the dinner table. 'We're out shopping. You wouldn't wake up so we just left you. We'll be back in a bit.' It read. I took a deep breath, trying to recall the events that happened last night. Then I remembered the car. I instantly grabbed my phone and called my friend, who was supposed to be picking me up. I told them everything, and they laughed at me, thinking I was joking. "What do you mean? We waited for you! We waited until 11:30, but you didn't come. We checked everywhere. In the end, you weren't coming, so we left." My friend argued. My heart skipped a beat. "But... I saw your car. It was your car, I know it. But it wasn't you in the driver's seat. I swear, I did." My breath got heavier. "Well maybe you were dreaming or something. I have to go, just text me." My friend hung up, and the silence grew louder. I checked my text messages app and saw that my sister had finally replied to my text. 'Why'd you text this at 3 AM? I thought the party was at 11?' The text read. I stared at it for a while, confused. I could've sworn I texted her at 11 PM, but it said I texted at her at 3. I remembered the clock showing 11 PM, and I remembered the text sending at 11 PM, so why did it send at 3? My breaths became shorter as I realized I went at 3 and not 11. So then... Why was my friend's car there? Then, out of the blue, I felt a sharp pain in my thigh. I quickly rolled up my pants, only to see my legs, full of bitemarks. Then, another feeling of pain in my arms. I immediately rolled up my sleeves and saw both my arms covered in bitemarks. I panicked. I called my parents and my sister, but they didn't pick up.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/178ahcy/i_snuck_out_to_a_party_when_my_parents_didnt/

nosleep

npgksa

Sophie

I wanted to be a mom so badly. It was my dream for so many years before it finally happened. And now I hate it. It’s not like you probably think. I knew it was going to be hard. I knew I was going to have long nights without much sleep, and I was fully prepared to have to clean up gross bodily functions several times a day, and I was well aware of the havoc motherhood would wreak on my body and social calendar. I didn’t mind! That’s just part of the package and it’s supposed to be balanced out by the deep love you have for your little one. I wasn’t supposed to be terrified of my child, though. Hang on. Let me back up and give you the whole story. I’m the oldest mom in my daughter’s second grade class. They called it a geriatric pregnancy, which was a little embarrassing, but I didn’t take too much offense. Even over the age of 40, I was proud to finally be pregnant! With a baby that would actually stick around, anyway. Not everybody finds their soulmate when they’re 22, you know. I was halfway through my 30s before I even got married, and we both wanted a family, but we struggled so hard just to get pregnant in the first place. It took a lot of prayers, and a couple rounds of fertility acupuncture, and a lot of unsexy sex at the right time of the month (so many months) just to get to that first + sign on the pee stick. And then the miscarriages started. Four of them. The last one nearly killed me, and I badly scared my coworkers who watched me pass out cold in the office lobby as I was trying to get home in the throes of it. I lost so much blood. We almost didn’t try again. But all I wanted was to be a mom. We decided to give it one last attempt. And that one stuck! I was so worried through the entire pregnancy, but I tried to stay cool and calm so the stress wouldn’t affect the baby. I did everything right, in fact. I ate so healthy and I did all the right exercises and I had a name all picked out but I didn’t tell anyone, not even my husband, until she was born. Until she was out in this world and alive and looking into our eyes and screaming bloody murder about the indignity of being born. You’re not supposed to tell the name, just in case. Just in case you have to flush that name down the toilet. It was Sophie, by the way. We named her Sophie. I said that name to my husband just before I lost consciousness after the 33-hour ordeal of her birth. That nearly killed me too, and it was an even closer call than the last miscarriage. She just. Would. Not. Come. Out. When she finally landed screaming in the doctor’s hands, I was barely coherent. Barely alive. I said “Call her Sophie” to my husband, who looked worried and white as a ghost, before I slipped away to blissful oblivion. I was okay, though. I mean, after a while. Anyone who thinks moms can waltz out of the delivery room, looking and feeling amazing, is just dumb. I lost a lot of blood, and I couldn’t go home from the hospital for almost a week. Then I stayed fat for longer than I wanted to, and I would cry at weird times with zero provocation, and my pretty blonde hair turned brown and lank. But it was all worth it, because we had our beautiful daughter! I loved Sophie from the second I saw her. She was gorgeous, flawless. And she was a good baby, too. I wasn’t scared of her at first. What was to be scared of? She was a little helpless person, totally dependent on our love and care. And we showered her with it. She never had to wonder if she was loved, because we told her every day. I adored her name so much. Sophie. I had been holding it in my heart since my first pregnancy. My first miscarriage. And I finally had my beautiful Sophie! I had a little blanket that I embroidered with her name while I was breastfeeding. I commissioned one of my friends to paint “Sophie” on the wall above her crib in a gorgeous kaleidoscope of colors. She had a personalized baby spoon, personalized bibs, a personalized silver rattle that I never actually let her use since it was too precious. Things first started getting a little weird when she began talking. Not the first word, of course – it was “mama!” My heart just melted the first time she looked at me and clearly said that magic word. “Dada” wasn’t far behind. The third word? That childhood classic: “NO!” I mean, I get it, all kids love to say “no” to things they don’t want. Bath time, mashed peas, a scratchy sweater. But Sophie… Sophie was saying “no” to her name. Almost every time I would say my sweet Sophie’s name, she would yell back “NO!” It got to where I almost didn’t want to say it anymore. But I loved that name so much, and I wanted her to love it too! So I would still sing her the sweet Sophie song I made up. And she would say “no.” Then one day, she said more than no when she heard me say her name. I couldn’t tell exactly what she was saying – not like babies are the most articulate! – but it sounded like “No! Day!” And she kept saying that when I would call her Sophie. “No!! Day!!!” I tried calling her Day a couple times but that just made her madder. She would cry and cry. I hate to admit it, but I kind of stopped calling her anything for a while. When I wanted to get her attention, I would say “Sweetie” or “My beautiful little girl” or whatever. Calling her Sophie would get her riled up, and so would calling her Day, so I just avoided it for the most part. Her speech was getting clearer though, as it does for all babies as they start mastering the art of talking. And one day, when I slipped and called her Sophie – and she yelled “NO!” – I realized what else she was saying. “Did you say Jenny?” I asked her. Her face lit up. “Denny!” she cried, bouncing up and down in her chair. “Do you want to be called Jenny?” I asked. “Yes! Denny!” I mean, it’s not what I would have chosen to name my daughter. Jenny is not even remotely a Gen Alpha name. How many little second grade girls do you know named Jenny? Madison, yes. Olivia, Riley, Addison, yes. There are three Emmas in my daughter’s grade. But Jenny? That was the name all the girls had back in the ‘70s and ‘80s when I was a kid. And in 2017, when my Sophie was born, it was hopelessly passe. I had no idea where it came from at that point. What would prompt a baby to insist on a name that was 30 years out of date? There weren’t any little girls in her day care named Jenny – none of her teachers were named that, either. None of her little toddler TV shows had a Jenny character, and none of her favorite books did either. But it made her happy. So while I called my daughter Sophie in my own thoughts and heart, I called her Jenny to her face. And everything was nice for a while. A few years. I wasn’t scared of my child yet. Just a little baffled by her insistence on being called Jenny. ––– Time went on, busy, like it always is when your household has two full-time workers and a toddler and an attempt at a social life. I got pregnant again – twice, once when Sophie was eighteen months old and once when she was three. I miscarried both times, very early on. And then we gave up. We would have liked to have another baby, but it was too hard on my body and on both of our psyches. My husband got a vasectomy and we agreed to be happy with our one beautiful, deeply loved little girl. Things first started getting weird about a year before she started kindergarten. One day, out of the blue, Sophie – Jenny – asked me, “Mama, remember when we went to the beach?” “Last week?” I asked. We had driven a few hours to visit my in-laws at their secluded lake house in Wisconsin. The shoreline was tiny and a little mucky, but I guess technically you could call it a beach. “Of course I do, silly! We had so much fun, and you’re getting so good at swimming!” “NO!” she shouted. A five-year-old’s favorite word. “The big beach! With the jellyfishes!” “What are you talking about?” I asked. “Where did we see jellyfish? They don’t live in Lake Winnebago, just in oceans.” “Yeah! Yeah! The ocean beach!” she happily agreed. “The stinky jellyfishes were aaalllll over the beach and we had to go tippytoe!” This stopped me cold. Sophie had never been to the ocean. Of course, we planned to take her there someday, but traveling with a small child is no picnic, and we weren’t ready to take her on a long flight from the middle of the country to the coast yet. But I’ve been to the ocean. And I’ve had to tiptoe around stinky, gross, washed-up jellyfish on a beach in Florida. Not with Sophie, though. That happened years before she was born. “Are you making up a funny story, So – I mean, Jenny?” My heart was pounding, but I tried to speak calmly. “That would be so silly if we had to tiptoe around jellyfishes!” “No! You remember! That bad man took your dollar and I kicked him in the leg! And you made me wear the crown!” I gasped, reeling in my seat. All of that really happened. On a spring break trip in the mid-‘90s with my college best friend. The beach was covered in dead jellyfish, so many we could barely walk. We had to tiptoe around them. A scammer swindled me out of $20 in a dumb con game on the boardwalk, and my best friend got so mad that she kicked him in the shin until he gave me my money back, and later I got one of those stupid paper crowns from Burger King and made her wear it for being my hero. She was always my hero. The best friend I ever had. Until she died. She was just 33. It was ovarian cancer, and it was awful. She never got to meet my Sophie – died eight years before she was born. I suppose you can guess what her name was, right? “Jenny?” I breathed, almost afraid to hear the answer. “Yes, mama?” “Which Jenny are you?” I asked. She gave me a quizzical look. “Mama, I’m just Jenny!” With that, she slid down from her chair and ran into the living room, calling, “Will you read me Rosie Revere Engineer?” I took a moment to let my heart go back to normal, and then I followed my daughter into the living room and read her favorite book to her. What else could I do? I told my husband what had happened later that night, after Sophie went to bed. I had been thinking about it all afternoon, and I was already pretty solidly convinced that Sophie was my best friend, reincarnated. I was even a little bit excited about it. Who wouldn’t want to have their long-lost best friend back? I mean, I knew she was my daughter. But maybe she was also something more. My husband shocked me with how angry he got when I brought it up. There’s no such thing as reincarnation, he said. That’s a stupid superstition and I shouldn’t let myself get sucked into weird new-age crap. I asked how he could explain what Sophie said to me, and he insisted that she must have said something a lot vaguer than what I told him, and I just twisted it into what I wanted to hear. Yes, it was a little weird that she wanted me to call her Jenny, but it’s not like it was some kind of obscure name. There must be millions of Jennies in the world. We argued bitterly about it, and he finally shut me down. He didn’t want to hear anything more about reincarnation, and he’d leave the room if I ever brought it up again. It was such a letdown – I really wanted to talk to him about it. He never knew Jenny – the real Jenny – before she got sick. He only met her once or twice, when she was close to dying, already a shadow of her former self. He couldn’t understand how special it was to feel like I had a little bit of her back. But his point was made. I shut up and stopped talking about it and went to bed. In the guest room. And I didn’t tell him the next time it happened. Or the next time, either. ––– It became kind of a common thing between me and Jenny. I mean Sophie. She brought back so many memories from college and my 20s. She would say something like, “Mama, remember when we moved into our apartment and we gave the boys pizza?” And it would bring up vivid memories of the day we drove past our favorite frat house with a back seat full of pizza and beer to bribe a few jocks to help us move all our stuff from the dorm to our brand new, first-ever apartment. Or she’d say, “Mama, remember Itchy Picker?” And I would break into gales of laughter remembering the American History professor we had who would try to sneakily pick his nose when he thought the students weren’t looking, then turn it into a nose scratch if he got caught. Jenny gave him that nickname. My Jenny, I mean. I mean, the real Jenny. Don’t get me wrong, I still absolutely understood that my daughter was not my dead best friend. Even though she kind of was. And we didn’t do the “Mama, remember” stuff all the time! It wasn’t every day, or even every week. There would be long stretches when Sophie – Jenny – was just a normal five-year-old and we did normal Mom-and-kid stuff together. But Jenny – the real Jenny – was always a little bit there. I could tell. There was something about the way my daughter carried herself, the way she walked, the way she held her head, that was reminiscent of my best friend. I mean, she did look like I had looked at her age, mostly. She had my same blonde hair and green eyes. She had my husband’s nose but my high forehead. Her smile looked like mine. But at the same time, I swear it, she kind of looked exactly like Jenny. The first Jenny. Once I asked my husband if he thought she looked a little like Jenny. I forgot. I knew he didn’t want to hear about it, but I was gazing at her kindergarten school picture and there was something in the tilt of her head that looked just like my dear old friend. He gave me a weird look and said, “No, she looks like you. Wasn’t Jenny black?” I mean, yes, she was black, but that doesn’t mean my white daughter can’t look basically exactly like her. I wanted to spend more and more time with Jenny – I mean Sophie – and, honestly, less and less time with my husband. He had been working late nights at his job and I didn’t really care. It was easier to just have dinner for two and save some leftovers for him to eat when he got home. It gave Jenny and me a chance to talk about old times without him hearing and getting mad. ––– One day, about a week after Jenny started first grade, we were having one of those just-the-girls dinners and Jenny asked, “Mama, remember that tall man with the nose?” “What?” I asked. This didn’t immediately ring any bells for something I had seen with Jenny – with either Jenny. “When was this?” “I don’t know,” she said. “He was funny, though, don’t you remember? He had a long, long nose and his fingers were like carrots.” I had no idea what she was talking about. “Are you just being silly, honey? It’s okay to make up funny stories! In fact, it’s really fun! But don’t say ‘remember when’ about stuff that didn’t really happen. Instead, you can say, ‘let’s make up a story about a funny man with a big nose!’” “No, no! Remember it, Mama! He had carrot fingers and he could fly!” I seriously had no idea what she was talking about. I wracked my brain to think of what this memory could be, but I had nothing. I changed the subject, and thankfully, Jenny dropped it, because I didn’t know what else to say about it. That weekend, I took Jenny downtown to see the Labor Day parade. We had been going since she was a baby. Well, usually it was the three of us that went, but that year, my husband mumbled some excuse about wanting to organize the garage, and whatever, I didn’t really care. I was starting to think he didn’t even like Jenny all that much. His loss. She was the most amazing woman. I mean, little girl. Whatever. We set up our chairs in a great spot near the middle of the parade route. I had my wine tumbler and a matching tumbler for Jenny with lemonade – no wine for the first-grader, ha, ha! But that didn’t mean she couldn’t match her mama/best friend! We were pointing at all the beautiful floats and laughing at a goofy juggler when we saw him. A clown, teetering tall on high stilts, with huge and incongruous angel wings affixed to his clown suit. He was a bizarre mishmash of design concepts. Instead of a red ball nose like the classic clown, he had a long, long prosthetic nose. And his gloves must have made his hands completely unusable – the big, floppy fingers looked just like fat carrots, complete with their leafy green tops stretching out from the fingertips. The world around me swam as I struggled not to faint. But Jenny was absolutely delighted to see the clown. “Look, mama!” she cried happily. “It’s the tall man! He’s so funny!” I don’t know what I said. Probably “Oh, so silly” or something else lame that you would say to a five-year-old when most of your focus is on trying to figure out what the fuck. How could she have remembered something that hadn’t happened yet? And, oh by the way, what did this have to do with Jenny? My Jenny, I mean. I mean, the first Jenny. This was not the only time it happened. Often, Jenny’s “Mama, remember” questions were still about real things that we had done together back in college, or in those post-college days when we had our first real jobs and lived in a Chicago apartment together. But increasingly, Jenny would ask me “Mama, remember” about something I had no memory of. Until it happened a few days later. “Mama, remember when Kissy came over and ate the bread and slept in my bed and bark bark barked at the squirrel?” Kissy was the next door neighbor’s dog. She had never been in our house. Until she was, three days later, when Joyce next door had to make an emergency overnight trip and asked us to dog-sit. We did, and of course, Kissy stole a dinner roll from the table. And slept in Jenny’s bed all night. And would not shut up barking at squirrels. “Mama, remember the big big boat? I didn’t feel so good!” She didn’t know it yet, but I had booked tickets for us to go on the pirate cruise on the Tall Ship Windy that weekend on the lake. I didn’t realize she’d get seasick – we had never been on anything bigger than a rowboat before – but she ended up puking over the side of the ship. “Mama, remember my kiki? He was so so soft! With his little purple nose!” The next day, my husband brought home a little plush stuffed kitten for Sophie, something he saw in a store window and impulsively bought. She named it Kiki, like a cute version of kitty-kitty. Want to guess what color its nose was? “Mama, remember when you were driving and you stopped the car soooo hard? I bumped my head and it hurt! You were so scared!” This freaked me out, and since I could not remember anything like it, in college or in my 20s or in the past six years, I started worrying badly about what kind of car incident I might have in store. A week later, I was driving home after picking Jenny up from school, and I started to accelerate after a red light when I realized there was a semi barreling toward the intersection from our left. I stomped on the brakes, harder than I’d ever had to before, and I heard Jenny scream in anger and surprise and pain from the back seat. The semi driver never stopped, never even slowed down, and he came within a few feet of t-boning our car at 60 miles an hour. We would surely have been dead. As it was, Jenny did hit her head on the back of the front seat – just like she remembered – and I had a bruise on my chest from slamming into the seatbelt. And, oh yeah, I was freakin’ terrified. Like Jenny said. I kind of didn’t want to hear the next thing she’d “remember.” Except that the next time she did say “Mama, remember,” it was so nice. It was a memory of one of my favorite days of my whole life, and talking about it with her made me love her so, so much. “Mama, remember when we went on the mountain? It was night and there were so many stars and the moon was pink. That little wolf walked right by us and we could almost touch it.” My heart flooded with a deep, almost painful nostalgia. “I do remember,” I whispered. It was a night in California. Jenny had moved out there for a job. She was there for three years before she got sick and came back to the Midwest to be near the people she loved. But before the cancer, I flew out to visit her a couple times, and once, we drove up Mount Baldy and spent an afternoon at a little picnic area. It was just one of those perfect days. We watched a guy on a bike ride up the road past us and laughed about how we could never in a million years ride a bike up a mountain. Right after he disappeared around the bend, a coyote trotted down the way he had come, right past us. So close we could almost touch it. On the way back down the mountain after dark, I was a little stoned and Jenny had the moon roof open and I tipped my head back and watched the stars and Nick Drake’s achingly beautiful “Pink Moon” played on her stereo and it’s one of those moments I can still feel viscerally in my soul. I can still touch it. I loved it so much and I loved Jenny so much. I love her so much. Both of them. That was the last nice memory Jenny gave me. But I’ve had six close calls since then. Like the one with the semi. There was the time I slipped with the knife while making dinner. “Mama, remember when you were cutting the chicken and oopsie! Ooh, you were so bloody.” Two days after she said it, I fumbled the knife so it didn’t just cut my finger, it also sliced through my forearm on the way to the floor and I had to call 911 before I bled out on the kitchen linoleum. Then there was the one where I fell down the stairs while carrying an armload of sheets from the bedrooms to the laundry. “Mama, remember when you slipped? You took a great fall! Just like Humpty Dumpty!” I sure did take a great fall. All the way down a full flight of stairs. My back was jacked up for weeks and I’m well aware it could have resulted in a broken neck. Did I really slip? Or did I feel a push before I took my great fall? I couldn’t tell you for absolute sure, and I blacked out for a while, so if Jenny had been at the top of the stairs with me when I fell, she had plenty of time to vacate before I woke up. There was “Mama, remember the blam blam blam?” Yeah, I had no idea what that was about either until the following week, when I was picking up milk on my way home from work and a freaking robber shot up the convenience store. The cashier was killed, and two other shoppers had to go to the emergency room with gunshot wounds. I got lucky – just a graze on my temple from a bullet that would have killed me if I had been standing a few inches to the right. “Mama, remember when the car quit working and you couldn’t make it start? That big old train almost got you!” “Mama, remember that icky big snake? He almost bit you!” I didn’t even know there were rattlesnakes in northern Illinois, let alone in my goddamn garage. “Mama, remember when the big metal box fell out of the window? It was sooo high up! It went splat right behind you!” Jenny remembered all of them before they happened. I’m not saying she DID them – not sure how she could have, other than the time she maybe pushed me down the stairs. But she at least predicted them, and maybe she – what? Willed them into near-existence? Thought really hard about having an air conditioner fall on my head from an eighth story apartment window? It clipped my toe, you know. I was walking downtown, practically running because I was late to work, and I had just passed through the spot where it fell. It caught the very tip of my shoe, the one that was behind me as I speed-walked. I stumbled, caught myself on the pavement with my hands, sat there gaping at the machine and rubbing my scraped palms while passersby rushed over to make sure I was okay. Jenny was already at school at the time – I checked later and the teacher confirmed she was there all day – and also she’s SIX, she’s practically a baby, she can’t drive downtown and go up into some stranger’s apartment and push an air conditioner out the window. Obviously she couldn’t have made it happen, but you know what? Maybe she made it happen anyway. ––– I called my husband this afternoon and asked him to pick Jenny up. I mean, Sophie. I said Sophie when I called him, because he always got so weirded out about the Jenny thing. He never called her that. He called her Sophie all along, and she never seemed to care. She never yelled "No! Jenny!" at him, even when she was a baby. Just at me. He said he could keep her for the weekend. It was supposed to be my weekend, but we're still getting the schedule ironed out and he was willing to be flexible when I said I had a work emergency. He moved out last month. He's been crashing in his cousin’s basement, which honestly isn't the world's best environment for a child, but it's okay. I'm not so sure she's a child, anyway. She said "Mama, remember" again this morning. “Mama, remember when you held your heart really hard and then you fell over? Wow, it was just all of a sudden! Then you were dead, dead, dead. I was so sad, remember?” I saw something sly in her eyes when she said it. Like she was looking forward to my reaction. My horror. Jenny never would have done that. Jenny was the nicest person in the world. She loved me. I thought Jenny loved me, too. I mean Sophie. There's no Jenny. Not anymore, not since 14 years ago when she died in agony, bald and ravaged by cancer and down to just 82 pounds. I don't know exactly what my baby is, but she's not my dead best friend. I guess she never was. And I guess maybe she never was human, either. And I can't leave the house. Sophie’s out there. Waiting to watch me die.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17805i3/sophie/

nosleep

lenalenore

The problem with our bathroom, from your girl Gianna!

Hey, my beautiful Gigis! Your girl Gianna here is sooo sorry that I haven’t posted for a few weeks! A lot has been going on. I’ve even picked up my old bad habit of licking my lips till they’re SUPER dry! But the one thing that has saved me is this \*chef’s kiss\* lip oil. You can check out the link here. But, back to why I haven’t posted for a while. Well, our family has been going through some things. To be honest, I’m writing this post today with a heavy heart. So, bear with me as I explain what’s been going on lately. Jordan and I have been sleeping in the guest bedroom that is connected to our younger daughter MacKenzie’s room via a Jack-and-Jill bathroom. Our older daughter, Harper, has her own small bathroom—a “princess suite,” cute, right?—connected to her room. Then there’s the first-floor master bedroom, which has its own awesome ensuite, complete with soaking tub and huge herringbone tiled shower, and flowers right outside the window. It’s beautiful. But I’m also fairly certain that it’s haunted. Let me go back a little bit. We’ve been here for two years, since Jordan got his (long-awaited, I may add) promotion to Director of Engineering at his company. We dated all throughout high school, and he was always so good at math, physics, and especially biology. He’s going to hate me for saying this, but hear me out: Poor guy wanted to go to med school, but you know how hard it is with all the interviews and essays and the MCAT, etc etc. It’s honestly amazing how anyone gets in with how hard they make it. Anyway, joke’s on the doctors now—Jordan makes twice as much as they do! :) Anyway, everything was fine until about a month ago, when weird stuff started to happen. During the first “occurrence,” I was soaking in the tub in the master bathroom, bath bomb fizzing and my favorite candles burning (you can get them here), when I noticed something strange. A sound? Or…a lack of sound? Yes, silence. Complete and utter silence. Usually, Harper and MacKenzie are SO LOUD that I can’t hear myself think. And I knew they were in the playroom when I went to take a bath. Probably playing one of their favorite games with Jordan—Connect Four, rummy, or Jenga. (Jenga was always my favorite. My friends and I would try to break the world record for the highest tower, but we were woefully unable to do so!) Anyway, the playroom shares a wall with the master bath, so I definitely would have heard them. I strained my ears, listening for a familiar noise (or any noise, for that matter). The silence persisted. “Jordan?” I called loudly. “Harper? MacKenzie?” My voice sliced through the silence like a razor. It sounded unnatural, hanging in the midst of such absolute silence. Or maybe it was the unnatural silence that made the natural sound seem strange. I couldn’t even hear the sound of the water lapping around my knees. Just my own breath. BUZZZZZZZZZ! The sound erupted from the other side of the wall. I jumped, splashing water down the sides of the tub and the beadboard walls surrounding it. (You might remember that Jordan and I renovated our bathroom last year. Click here to see pics of the renovation! Psst…it turned out darling!) “What the H-E-double hockey sticks?” I said aloud. I knocked on the bathroom wall adjacent to the playroom. “What are you guys doing?” “Playing Operation!” MacKenzie said. Of course, the way she said it, it sounded like “Op-oh-way-shun.” Four-year-olds, man. Anyway, I was just relieved that the weird silence was gone. That evening, I tried to forget about it, chalk it up to a rare moment of stillness within my family, or perhaps impacted ear wax, which I get a lot and it impairs my hearing to some extent (BUT I have a home remedy that I swear by, which you can read about here). Still, I felt uneasy. The unease didn’t even have time to lift before the next strange thing happened. A week later, I was shaving in the shower, which I usually hate to do, but the new razors I’ve been using make it sooo much better (here they are on Amazon). Mid-shave, I was suddenly overcome by a strange feeling. I didn’t feel like I was in the shower anymore. Rather, I felt like I was in some other realm. I still saw the herringbone tile of the shower (which can be found here) surrounding me, but I felt removed from it…removed from the entire experience. My mind was elsewhere, and my body felt numb. I looked around and saw something dripping down the wall opposite the shower. It seemed both bizarre and familiar at the same time. I stepped out of the shower and touched it, my fingertips coming away sticky and red. I suddenly felt very calm, and knew what I had to do. It was as if the stuff on the wall was speaking to me. I rubbed my fingertips together, felt the horrible tacky stickiness drying on them. Then I picked up my razor and brought it toward my stomach. The silvery blades had barely bitten into my skin when the bathroom door flung open. “What are you doing? Oh my god, Gigi, you’re hurt!” Jordan cried, rushing over to me. Still disoriented, I stumbled backward and smacked my head on the travertine soap dish (which you can find here). “Baby, shhh, it’s okay,” Jordan whispered, turning off the shower and wrapping his arms around me. “What \*happened\*?” “I don’t really know,” I admitted. “Have you ever…you know…hurt yourself before?” he asked. “No,” I said, honestly. “I don’t know what came over me.” “It’s okay, babe,” Jordan said. “Please just promise me that you’ll come to me if you ever get the urge to…do that again.” “I promise,” I said. Jordan kissed my forehead. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up.” He wrapped a towel around my shoulders. I looked at the wall with the blood on it, once again becoming aware of its presence—this time alarmingly so, since I was no longer in that weird fugue state. The blood was still there, and was creeping down the wall with increasing speed. “Um, Jordan?” I asked, afraid of the answer. “Do you…\*see\* that?” I gestured toward the blood. “See what, baby?” “Oh,” I said. “Never mind. Just a little speck of something on the wall.” I thought back to the original movie \*It\*, the part where Beverly’s father can’t see the blood Pennywise exploded all over the bathroom. (Have you guys seen that movie? Drop your reply in the comments!) Was I losing it? Jordan and I began walking toward the bathroom door leading to the bedroom. On the way out, I caught a glimpse of us in the bathroom mirror (you can see ours here). If I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn I saw my reflection wink. After that incident, I didn’t feel comfortable sleeping in the master bedroom. God knew when the freaking walls would start bleeding again. Jordan has that engineering mindset where he doesn’t believe in anything irrational, so I knew that he would scoff at my real reason for moving rooms. I told him that being near the bathroom triggered thoughts of harming myself. When I told him, he held me, reassuring me that he understood. However, today really threw me. Gigis, I’m telling you: I’m beside myself. Today is a weekend, and we all slept in. I had to venture into the bathroom to retrieve a face mask that I remembered was under the sink (you can find the mask here—it has hyaluronic acid and ceramides, all good stuff for your lovely skin 😊). When I entered the bathroom, it was impossible not to see the singular tulip resting on the tub. A tulip, like the ones were grew in our backyard. With a combination of intrigue and terror, I picked up the flower and breathed its scent deeply. I’m a sucker for floral scents (check out my favorite floral perfume here!). After letting out that first breath, sweetened with gorgeous morsels of fragrance, I kept my nose to the flower, breathing in a second time. And retched. The smell of decay filled my nose and mouth. Jordan likes to drink protein shakes (you can find them here), and once or twice he’s left them somewhere obscure, after which they were able to rot freely in secret. My old organic chem professor in college (geek alert, I know, haha) once told our class that a protein shake left to spoil produced much the same smell as a dead body. After finding Jordan’s, um, “aged” concoctions, I can definitely say I know what death smells like. I dry-heaved a few more times, still holding the tulip. Holding my breath, I quickly unlatched the bathroom window and removed the screen, chucking the tulip into the garden I somehow knew it came from. Harper knocked on the master bathroom door. The sound jolted me, causing me to gasp the putrid air. “What’s up, honey?” I asked, my voice weak and wobbly. “Can you braid my hair, Mom?” she asked. (I love doing her hair. I see a lot of cool ideas for little girl hairdos on Pinterest. You can find my board here.) “Sure, honey,” I said. “Holy cannoli!” Harper exclaimed. “It smells horrible in here!” Mackenzie wandered in at that point. “It smells gross, Mama,” she said. \*Oh my god\*, I thought, as the realization dawned on me. \*They can smell it too. THEY CAN SMELL IT TOO!\* It’s the weekend, so Jordan had the day off. I called to him, cupping my hands around my mouth to amplify the sound. “Babe! Come here, I need you to smell something and tell me if it’s my imagination or not.” When Jordan entered the room, Harper, MacKenzie, and I scuttled out of that ungodly smell. We watched Jordan from our post in the bedroom. He was thorough in his task of smelling, making little birdlike movements with his neck all around the bathroom. “Nope,” Jordan said, exiting the bathroom. “It just smells like the bath bombs you have over there.” “Can we please fumigate the place somehow,” I mumbled without conviction. I had had it with that bathroom. At this point, I had no doubt that the bathroom was haunted. “Maybe, love,” Jordan said. “Let’s see how it is after it airs out.” Jordan looked in my eyes. “I know you’re freaked out about stuff you’ve been experiencing lately. Just know it’s just your imagination.” I turned to walk away, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jordan pick up one of the petals left behind from the tulip. He curled his hand into a fist and crushed the petal, ragged pieces peeking out in some places. He could see the tulip, feel it. He could…destroy it. I went to go check on the tulips, and noticed that the ground looked a little funky. I’m not the gardener in the family, not even close. But I could tell that the ground looked…puffed up. Like someone dug into it and then put dirt back on top. Oh, well. I’ll have our Armando, our gardener, fix it next week. He’s the best. ​

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/177uvwr/the_problem_with_our_bathroom_from_your_girl/

nosleep

ajzwriter90

I worked the night shift at a motel, this was my final shift.

Whoever told you the night shift was hard or unpredictable was lying. It’s not most of the time. The majority of the shifts you work are uneventful, boring even. But you deal with the boredom because you need the money and don’t mind staying up until the sun rises. Or at least that was the case for me. College is a bitch, whoever told you that was telling the truth. It is, has been, and will continue to be, a bitch. During summers, I worked at a small motel right off an isolated portion of Interstate 75 to help pay for it. It was the only place around for miles that wasn’t a McDonald's or gas station with ads from the seventies plastered on the walls to this day. My job was at the check-in desk, I sat there from sundown to sunup. Occasionally someone will come in, usually a tired family who decided that their choice to drive through the night was a bad idea after all. When I worked there, during the summers of 1987-1990, and all of 1991, I enjoyed it, as much as you can enjoy isolation anyway. My shift started at nine-thirty and I sat down in my fantastically worn-in chair, turned on the box TV mounted in the corner, and kicked my feet up. Mr. Lee, the owner of the BRUBAKER MOTOR COURT, was too cheap to pay for any more stations so I was stuck with the grand selection of seven channels to choose from. Half of those being local access channels that didn’t play anything half the time. Clouds had been looming the past few days and threatened to wash out every dirt road in the county. The skies had finally opened up and it had started as just a trickle when I sat down but quickly morphed into a torrential downpour within minutes which quickly turned my seven channels into none as the power went out in one quick moment and I was left in darkness. I let out a sigh and opened the bottom drawer of an empty metal filing cabinet that had probably been donated to Mr. Lee knowing how much he despised investing in anything off the shelf. In the bottom drawer was a small assortment of well-read paperbacks ranging from Lawrence Block to Stephen King. I fished out one with a decent-looking cover that hadn’t been too damaged as well as a matchbook from a bar I’m pretty sure was torn down before I was born. I opened the flap to find three were already missing. I lit the candle and scanned the plot synopsis on the back. Decent enough I thought and plopped my feet back to the same spot on the desk and opened to chapter one. I was only three pages in when I heard the door chime. I looked up and lowered my feet as the door closed behind a man hunched over, hands clasped over his stomach. Headlight beams now pierced through the glass windows that lined the front of the building turning him into a silhouette. “I need…help.” the man mustered out through a painful groan. “Woah, what’s going on?” I asked, picking up the candle and used it as a light to assess what was going on. Wax dripped down over my knuckles but I didn’t notice. I held the candle up to him and the small flickering light revealed his tattered shirt, partially covered by the trench coat he was wearing. Fresh viscous blood seeped through his fingers and had begun to form a small puddle on the rarely-mopped linoleum he was standing on. “I’m hurt.” he gasped before his legs buckled and he collapsed into the puddle. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” I muttered to myself as I hopped around the desk, candle still in hand. I held two fingers to his neck with my free hand to check for a pulse. It was slow but he was still alive. “Hey!” I shouted at him. “What happened?” Nothing. “Was there a wreck?” I tried again but still nothing. I pulled back his rain and blood-soaked coat, he was wearing a grey t-shirt. Maybe it was white, it was hard to tell. The shirt had been turned into rags, barely clinging to his body; he had been slashed from his shoulders to his waist. Blood was gently but steadily seeping from his wounds and making the puddle large enough that it was slowly surrounding him and now myself as well. I placed the candle next to him and dropped his head back to the floor before jumping to my feet and around the desk again. I crouched underneath and groped around frantically in the dark for the ancient first-aid kit that hadn’t seen daylight since it had been placed under this desk long before I started working. After a few seconds that felt like minutes, I found it. My hands wrapped around the cloth pouch and dragged it out from underneath. I undid the top and felt around for anything useful. All I could find were some expired band-aids, a cloth bandage, and hydrogen peroxide. I grabbed the cloth and peroxide and stood up. The man on the floor was groaning now, I didn’t know if that was bad or good but at least he was moving. If it’s leaking oil, it’s got oil I thought to myself. I knelt next to him and pulled his shirt up to assess the damage in its entirety. Long jagged rips across his chest, not cuts, rips. Not from going through a windshield, I could tell that much. Something had been dragged across his chest with enough force to cut through bone. I uncapped the peroxide and began pouring indiscriminately all over him to get as much surface area as I could. He recoiled and screamed in a way that suggested he was mustering all of the strength he had to tell me to stop putting him in more pain. I tried to wrap the bandage around him but to no avail. My heart raced faster than I thought possible. In the back of my head, I remember thinking, if it keeps going like this, it’ll pop like a fucking balloon. My head darted and swiveled around the room until it landed on the desk. I stood up and darted to it as fast as I could, only two steps but that didn’t stop me from slamming my chest into it as I did. I reached over, grabbed my stapler, and brought it back around, holding it close to my chest. I fell to my knees and fumbled the two steps back over to him. I undid the latch on the bottom and the stapler swung open. “I’m sorry,” I said to him under my breath. I pinched the skin together and gently pressed the stapler to the wound. I took a deep breath and put enough pressure on it to shoot a staple into his flesh. He screamed again but this time with less power to it. I stapled again along the same wound and he barely made a peep. Exhaustion was my guess. He groaned or jolted slightly with each new staple but nothing more than a gentle reminder that he was alive. When I finished with his chest it looked like something out of a Texas Chainsaw movie. Rows of unevenly spaced staples trying their best to hold together flesh that wanted nothing more in the world than to rip back open and let out more blood. I looked up and past the headlights shining into the office and through the rain, I could see a man standing in the parking lot alone. My eyes fell back down to my main priority in front of me and his eyes were open. He was staring daggers at me, choking somewhat. Like he was drowning on dry land. He tried to spit something out to me but I couldn’t hear it through his desperate gasps for air. “What?” I asked. “He’s…” he trailed off again. “He’s what? Who is he?” I was losing my mind, trying to find out why he was choking but nothing was making itself visible as his words made less and less sense with every syllable. “He’s here.” the man choked out through a throat filling rapidly with what I could only assume was blood. I don’t know a lot about medicine or how to be a fucking doctor but here I was, standing over someone I had stapled back together like Frankenstein. I still couldn’t figure out what he was trying to convey, I was too preoccupied with figuring out what the next problem was and why he could barely speak. I tried to decipher the cryptogram I had been given for all of two seconds that felt like two years when I was ripped from my melancholy by something smashing into the glass wall next to me. I looked up just in time to see another man, this one wielding an axe and finishing another swing that shattered the window entirely. He was clad in a light tan jacket and jeans soaked through in rain, blood, and viscera. In one swift movement, he was over the knee-high part of the wall made of actual drywall and taking a swing at me. I tried to roll out of the way, but my knees fumbled in the still-fresh puddle and I splayed out. The axe came down and the top half of the blade was buried into my left calf. I was stunned for a moment. Staring, trying to comprehend what was happening. It was a weird sense of not believing what I was seeing, or at least denying it. As if there was no possibility of it being my leg. The lack of pain for the first few moments helped reinforce this idea. When he pulled the axe head out it all hit me at once. An explosive burning emanated from my calf and up to my face in less than a heartbeat. I began breathing faster, now bordering on hyperventilation. I scrambled to my feet, regretting it instantly, the pain was magnified the moment I tried putting any weight on that leg but somehow I was able to rationalize that I had two options. Fight through the pain and have a chance at living, or sit there and die. I staggered to my feet as the axe was brought down only a few inches short of my heel. I hobbled on my right leg as far as I could when he brought the axe to his chest and started after me with it. I ran past the desk and through the door that faced the motel. I grabbed my ring of room keys as I passed without noticing it. I grabbed the aluminum handle and flung the all-metal door open with all of the force my arms could muster as my heart still raced a million miles an hour. The rain pelted me across my body, quickly matting my hair to my face. He was behind me now. No more than five steps away. I tried putting one of the keys on the ring into the lock but nothing. I tried to isolate another key to use as I looked over my shoulder. He was four steps away now. I slid the key into the lock and started to turn the tumbler. Three steps. He was raising the axe now. I turned it all the way and grabbed the handle. Two steps. It was above his head and he was bringing it down quickly. The door began to fly open but at that point, the blade was lodged firmly into my skull with a loud and wet ka-chunk. I still remember what it felt like. Splitting my skull into two even pieces and almost splitting my nose as well. My vision went black at once, but I still felt my surroundings. I felt the top half of my body hit the carpeted floor inside. I felt my hand rip from the doorknob and smack onto the floor next to me as well. I had no control over anything, and couldn’t move. That’s when this ringing started. Ear-splitting and annoying. It hurt worse than the axe being removed from my skull as brain matter stained the still semi-new carpet. The blackness quickly morphed into a bright white light. It started as a pinhole far off in the dark. But it grew larger and larger with each passing millisecond. As it did the ringing grew louder and louder. I tried to clench my eyes shut but that doesn’t really work when you’re dead. Or whatever I was. In less than a moment, it was over and the blackness returned. But it was different. A forced blackness is the best way I know how to put it. I opened my eyes and the ringing was gone. I was back to sitting at my check-in desk. The TV still turned onto a local access channel while the storm outside pounded against the windows. My stomach turned inside out, my vision began to rapidly focus and unfocus again and again. I was stuck. Frozen in my chair. Unsure of whether or not to run, cry, or spill my guts at once. I bent down and rolled up my left pant leg and stared at my calf. A large but ancient scar sat where the axe had struck. The first of its kind. I stared at it, running my fingers along it, unsure of what to think. I’m going crazy, I’m going fucking crazy. I had felt everything, everything from the stapler in my hand as I punched one after another into that man's skin, I had felt the fresh blood soaking through my jeans as I had tried to scramble away. I had felt the axe. I had felt everything. The nausea came to a head and I scrambled out of the office chair and hunched over the beige plastic wastebasket. My knuckles were white on its rim as if the wastebasket were the only thing holding me to the ground. I wiped my face clean with my arm and stood up, using the desk to support me as I regained my footing. I took a few deep breaths and kept repeating to myself, you probably fell asleep or something, none of it really happened. To which the other half of my brain begged for an explanation for the jagged scar that now adorned my calf. I sat back down and rested my hand on my palms. I shut my eyes and continued to take more deep breaths. I lied to myself over and over again when I heard the TV cut off mid-sentence. I opened my eyes and watched as they darted around the room like a scared rabbit. The hyperventilation returned, and I felt my hands move across the desk and grab onto the candle that still had yet to be lit. I opened a drawer and fished out the same book of matches. I opened the flap and counted them all, it was still missing three. I broke the same one I had before from the pack and struck it against the front. I held it to the wick before blowing out the match. I tried my best to calm myself down again. Repeating the same phrase ad nauseam until it became a meaningless group of unrelated syllables. Inhaling the scentless smoke from the candle as I did. The door chime sounded. No. not now, not ever. I looked up to the same thing I had before. A man silhouetted in headlights shining through the windows. His shirt was in tatters, soaked through in blood. I rose from my seat. A lot slower this time. “Who are you?” my voice trembled as I asked. Nothing. “What’s going on? Why is this happening again?” my voice began to crack. A ball had begun to form in my throat, choking me as I tried to speak. He was still quiet for a moment before his legs buckled again and he hit the floor in the same spot. Shit. I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t allow myself to just leave him there. Could I? I crouched down again and this time my hands found the first-aid bag and unzipped it. I only pulled out the peroxide this time. I grabbed the stapler and the candle with my free hand before rounding the desk again. Each step was a case of deja vu multiplied to the extreme. I knelt again, setting everything down next to me as I did. I opened his jacket and lifted his shirt and there were the same wounds. All in the same spot they were last time. I doused him in the peroxide and began to staple him up. As odd as it may sound, I was more focused on my breathing and trying to fight back the tears that had started to well up and cloud my vision. “He’s…” the man began to let out. “He’s here.” I turned my head and saw exactly what I had expected. A man clad in a bloody Carhartt jacket and viscera-covered jeans raising a fireman’s axe before slamming it down with all of his might into the window which didn’t shatter on the first swing. I climbed to my feet as I watched him raise it again before forcing it into the glass window that shattered this time around. I’m not proud to admit I froze as I watched him sling it over his shoulder before swinging it like a bat where it made contact with the side of my temple. The blackness returned. So did the ringing. I tried my best to peer through the never-ending veil of darkness that had blinded me as I felt my body fall to its knees. Suspended by the axe-head before I felt the sole of a boot press into my chest and the axe-head peel away from my head as I fell back over my knees. My entire left side now rested on the man who had first entered the office. The bright light reappeared before abruptly vanishing along with the ringing. I was back. Back sitting at the shitty, particle-board desk. I was more angry than scared at this point. I rubbed my hands across my temples when I felt something odd. A long thin patch of skin that ran along the left side of my head that was covered by my hair. I stood up, still keeping my hand over it to make sure that it wouldn’t disappear. I walked to the bathroom that was no more than four or five steps away from my desk and flicked on the light. It took a moment but the naked incandescent bulb flickered to life. I held my head no more than an inch away from the mirror and pulled my hair out of the way to see another aged scar to complement the one still on my calf. It began to burn slightly as I ran my hand over it. For once I wasn’t scared. I was devoured by it. Staring at it in the mirror trying to decipher it like a puzzle. The hiss of the lightbulb surged louder for a moment before ceasing along with the light itself. I opened the bathroom door and peered out into the office. I judged that I still had a few moments to try and figure out what to do. I looked at my chair and my bag sitting next to it. I moved closer as I allowed my idea to fully materialize. When I reached it I fished my car keys out and made my way to the front door. I was parked five spaces from the door. I was practically sprinting when I pushed the door open. I wrapped my hands around the driver's side door. And slid the key into the hole. I turned it and hit the button before flinging the door open hard enough to have a chance at knocking it off its hinges. I sat down in the driver's seat and punched the key into the ignition. The engine sputtered. Trying with all its might to turn over but nothing. In my haste, I turned it. Again and again, until it flooded. Fuck. God fucking dammit! I slammed my hands on the steering wheel while cussing at it, at the car, at everything. Why me? Why the hell did I have to be the one this happened to? Behind me, headlights reflected off of my mirrors. I turned around to see a man skid to a stop in the rain. Only avoiding a collision with the wall by a few inches at most. He climbed out of his car with considerable effort before collapsing onto the ground. He waited a moment to get up. When he had finally built up the energy to try and stand he began using the car as a support. It was fascinating to watch. Like a triathlon where the winner was picked in advance. I watched as he clambered for the front door, using the car to support his weight as he inched closer and closer to the door, checking over his shoulder every other step or so. I found my eyes had begun to dart back and forth from the man to scanning the rest of the empty parking lot, waiting for another car to pull in. Through the heavy rain, a rust-red pickup drifted into the opposite end of the lot with its lights and engine off. My heart skipped a beat, There was only one person that pickup could belong to and I didn’t want to see him. I shrunk in my seat, pressing my feet flat against the floor, and buckled my knees to make myself as small as possible. I had lost control of my lungs again as the hyperventilation returned. Calm down, calm down, calm down. I muttered to myself in an attempt to quell the knot that had formed in my chest and made its way up into my throat. My hand was shaking, uncontrollably so. I flattened my palm and held it between my face and the bottom of the steering wheel. It went from earthquakes to tremors, and eventually to barely anything at all. I peeked over the ledge of the door and through the window. Not far from my car was the pickup, parked in the middle of the lot with its driver’s side door open. Standing in front of the grill, maybe four feet from my tail lights was the man in the tan Carhartt with the fireman’s axe scoping out the check-in office. I recoiled back down into the safe little hole I had taken for myself. Yet again, I was finding that I had to rationalize the situation to myself. Breaking down every little thing that had happened up until now. First the rain, then the storm, then the power went out, then this, then that. None of it was working. Nothing was helping. I peeked up again to see that he had moved a few feet forward and was heading for the office. Now or never, right? I wrapped my fingers around the handle and slowly pulled it towards me. I winced when the latch popped and the sound of rain filled the car. I swung it open and rolled out less than gracefully. Falling flat onto my chest with one leg still hooked on a bracket under the seat. I scraped my hands against the wet cement and scrambled to my feet. I peered around the car to see him raising the axe to smash the window. I didn’t know if this was the first or second swing and in all honesty, I didn’t care. I kept moving away, I wasn’t sure where I was running to exactly but anywhere was better than the fucking BRUBAKER MOTOR COURT. I got to the road when I heard the window shatter before the man who had first staggered in let out a pained and blood-curdling scream. I looked both ways over and over again, head on a swivel until I gave up on looking for any headlights. I looked back over my shoulder when I saw the man starting back towards his car. When we locked eyes from a distance of maybe thirty feet, he began to jog after me, the axe swaying from side to side in his hands with each step. He called out for me. Something between a HEY and just a yelp. I began running in the opposite direction, out onto the road and down, hoping, praying that he would just give up. Who was I kidding? Of course he wouldn’t. I was a nuisance that needed to be disposed of. I looked over my shoulder with every step. The lack of streetlights made it harder and harder to tell what was happening behind me. I ran until my legs gave up. I collapsed in the rain, cursing whatever had thrown me into this. I didn’t choose this. I didn’t want to be here. After a few moments, I could make out the rumble of the engine through the torrential downpour that was occurring all around me. Headlights pierced through the thick fog of rain and I stood to my feet. Flailing my arms every which way to signal that I needed help. I began to jog toward the sound and the lights until I was able to make out the silhouette of a square-body pickup. For less than a second everything froze. My heart skipped a beat and I lost the steady rhythm of breathing I had finally established. I turned heel and ran in a straight line as fast as my legs would take me. It hurt knowing that I had been this close to help, if I had just stayed on the ground I might have been okay. The sound of the engine was getting closer, I could almost swear that I felt the rubber tires burning the backs of my heels. I ran until my shoe caught a stray rock causing my knees to buckle. I hit the pavement with a loud and wet smack. It was less than a heartbeat until the hot rubber tires I had felt on my heels were now rolling their way over my spine. Eventually, it came to a stop once my skull shattered with a loud crunch. The bright white appeared again as I felt the rain wash the blood that had just made its way to my fingertips. The ringing filled my ears again before I was back in the office chair. My stomach churned. I fell to my knees and scrambled to the bathroom on all fours. When the toilet was within arm's reach I wrapped my arms around it in a tight embrace. By the time I was finished, it felt like I had just done a deep cleaning of my stomach. Like someone had moved out and left a ROOM FOR RENT sign in the front yard. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and tried to hold back tears. Yet again the question was raised in my mind. Why me? Why now? I stood up and looked at my face in the mirror. It looked older, worn down mostly. My eyes had sunken into my head and looked dead when accompanied by my ghost-pale skin. A walking corpse seemed like a more apt description. I didn’t bother feeling for the scar I knew would be on the back of my head. I turned on the forever-cold faucet and let a small puddle build up in my welled hands. I splashed it on my face to elicit some kind of feeling. All I managed to do was wet my face and turn a portion of my hair a darker shade of red. The naked incandescent bulb above flickered, telling me that I didn’t have a lot of time before the cycle repeated itself. Or continued to repeat itself I thought. I walked back to my desk, fully resigned to the situation. I had thought of everything I could to get away. So far, no matter what I tried, there was no point in trying. Every action had been accounted for. I plopped back down in the office chair, ready to accept my fate. If I’m lucky, this will be the last go around. Wishful thinking. My eyes fell upon the stapler again, I wasn’t sure what I was thinking, the thought still had yet to materialize in any meaningful way. Almost on cue, the lights cut out again. As they did, I was able to decypher my own train of thought. I picked up the stapler and began to violently smash it against the edge of the metal filing cabinet that had held the books and matches. The clanging of metal on metal was grating to the ears but my plan was working. The shell of the stapler was metal, not the folded aluminum the inner mechanism was constructed with, but a more robust metal that I never figured out the name of. As the headlights of the injured man's car shined through the windows, I managed to break off a piece of the shell, leaving a large jagged edge. I unclipped the latch on the bottom and let it swing open. With one last heavy swing against the edge of the now-warped filing cabinet, the shell came free of the stapler. I held it close, hovering my finger atop the freshly serrated edge, trying to convince myself that it was sharper than it appeared. I glanced up when the door chime triggered. The bloody man was stumbling in again, asking for help with the exact same words, in the exact same cadence, before dropping to the same spot on the bloodied checker-linoleum floor tiles. I gripped the stapler shell harder as I stared out the window with enough concentration to shatter the glass. When the pickup idled into the lot, I took a deep breath to center myself. For the first time this entire night, I wasn’t scared, I wasn’t confused. I was angry. Angry at whatever god or force had put me in this loop. I was mad that I had become collateral in something that never should have involved me. The man in the bloody carhartt stepped out of the cab of his pickup before reaching back inside for his axe. He was across the parking lot in seven or eight large strides. Just like before, he raised the axe above his head and brought it down against the glass with little success. Only managing to create a large spider-web pattern across the glass. After bringing it down the second time, the axe-head tore through the window like tissue paper. He stepped inside and glared at me. This was the first time I had been able to get a good look at him. Lit with thunder and rain, his face was jagged and unfriendly. Go figure. A large scar ran from his chin to deep inside his scalp where it was covered by a thick head of greasy jet-black hair. He swiped the axe at me, almost catching my stomach before I jumped back. It was less than a moment before I lunged at him, holding the stapler out as I did. I wasn’t aiming for anywhere in particular and that may have been to his advantage. The stapler made a sizeable slice in his midsection, most of the impact had been caught by his coat. He paused for a moment as we made eye contact. The look on both of our faces could best be described as confused. He grabbed me by the hair and lifted me off my feet. A large burning sensation spread across my scalp as he began to pull upwards. I yelped as my feet lost contact with the tile. He raised me nearly a foot off the ground to compensate for the height difference between us. At eye level, he studied me, the look of utter fear on my face must have been a sight. I struggled, gripping and smacking his arm with open and closed hands in an unsuccessful attempt to get him to drop me. His eyes drifted to his other hand raising the axe to us. He loosened his grip on the handle and let it slide down where he caught it near the top. He smiled, revealing a mouthful of rotted yellow and black teeth as he held the sharp edge of the axe head to my face and pressed down. Gently at first but eventually harder as it started to draw blood. I struggled even more. Flailing my body as much as I could. Eventually, my knee scraped against the back half of the stapler, still barely clinging to him. I drew my leg back before throwing it forward as hard as I could. It made square contact with the stapler and drove it deeper into his stomach. He dropped me painfully to the floor as he recoiled. I skittered backward, pushing my feet against the floor as hard as possible before standing. The smile had vanished from his face as well as the axe from his hand. It clattered to the ground with a loud thud as the metal hit the floor. He reached down for it but I was quicker. Whether I was faster because of adrenaline or he was slower because of the stapler doesn’t matter at this point. I raised the axe above my head as high as I could. He held out a hand and started to speak for the first time as I brought it down. he shouted something I couldn't understand--or maybe didn't care to--as I dropped the blade firmly into his shoulder blade. The jacket couldn’t have stopped that one. He wailed in pain as I ripped it out of him before raising it again. His was a shorter distance but it made an impact all the same. He dropped to the floor on top of the man he had been hunting. If he wasn’t already dead from blood loss, he was now. I raised the axe again and brought it down. This one landed firmly in his throat. He struggled against me. Gripping at the axe handle as he started to lose consciousness. I hacked at him over and over and over again until he barely resembled a human being anymore. Until there was no chance he was coming back again. The final blow lodged in his ribcage and when I could no longer lift it out, I let go. I took a step back and looked at my hands. It may seem cliche but that was the first thing I looked at. My skin was stained deep with red. My clothes were soaked through in a mixture of his blood and my own. My knees buckled and I hit the floor. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. My eyes clouded with tears. I held my face in my hands and began to sob. My shoulders threw themselves up and down involuntarily as tears wiped away small streaks of blood from my face. I sat there for what felt like hours, rocking back and forth, snot and tears streaking down my face before being brought together at the tip of my chin. Memory is a funny thing, there are certain moments in everyone's life that they can recall with stunning accuracy and others they couldn’t remember if they were being tortured, this is one of those moments for me. I remember with enough detail to paint a picture of the way the man fell, the way the axe felt as it cut through bone and viscera. I remember everything. But the hours following are blacked out, redacted, like it was worse than the things I had already been through. What I know about what happened after is what has been told to me. I had driven into a 24-hour gas station doing at least seventy-five miles an hour and nearly took out a pump as the tires skidded to a stop on the slick concrete. When I came running through the doors, still bloody, the man behind the counter called 911, jabbering almost incoherently about a girl covered in blood screaming bloody murder about, well, murder. The next morning, when police taped off the lot, and news vans had blocked most of the road reporting on “The crime of the century” I couldn’t have cared less. It was all for views, their fake smiles gave it all away. The only part of this that they cared about wasn’t the story, not about everything the “lone survivor” –which is what the various multi-media conglomerates had taken to calling me–had gone through. None of it. All they saw was a quick way to capitalize on it with some variation of the same phrase over and over again. Our hearts go out to the families of all involved. The railroading I got from them during the few interviews I had reluctantly agreed to may have jaded me a little. After an investigation corroborated my story, at least the story that didn’t involve me dying over and over again, I was cleared of any wrongdoing. Like so many others, my story was eventually drowned out by the next big thing that all of the reporters could use their favorite phrase on again. Within a few months, I was back to being a nobody. Invisible, the way I wanted it.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/177zjx9/i_worked_the_night_shift_at_a_motel_this_was_my/

nosleep

-LoFo-

My experience with The Friday Agency.

(Slight SA TW) I’ve heard a rumor of a certain very small company that can solve any problem, for a price. The issue is, I have a big problem, but I don’t know what the price would be to have it fixed. At this point, I’m almost ready to try anything. The place I heard of was more of an urban legend. It wouldn’t be that much of a waste of time if it didn’t work, so I woke up at the crack of dawn to try it out. At least, it would have been the crack of dawn if the sun still rose at 6 AM. I hated how little daylight we got in the fall and winter. The first step is simple. Open any GPS and put in The Friday Agency. If a location thirteen minutes away from you shows up, walk to it. It must be on foot for the Agency to appear. If you take a car or a bike, the location will disappear from your GPS. It’s pretty basic. There are some mixture rumors of this place only showing up on a Friday the Thirteenth. Or just on Fridays. Either way, I did it today just in case. To my shock, it worked. On a cold dark morning, I walked through some random streets to a very old-fashioned office building. It looked like a turn-of-the-century home that had been turned into some sort of private practice. The building squished between two houses so unnaturally I was convinced right away this urban legend was true. I stood outside, knees shaking from the cold and from the worry of what I might be getting myself into. I tightened my long coat as if it would protect me and walked up the well-kept wooden steps. A brass knocker was set into the middle of the door. It felt almost too cold to touch. After two knocks I thought I heard a voice inviting me inside then the door creaked open on its own. I didn’t want to go inside, but I’ve come this far. I didn’t need to make a deal if the price was too steep for what sort of problem I needed to be fixed. There wasn’t much light inside to see. I followed the only source of glowing orange to an open office. The owner was waiting behind a large wooden antique desk. He sorted some paper before kindly waving me over for us to speak. I half expected him to be creepy because of the way I got here. He was tall and slim wearing a dark brown buttoned vest. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His dark pants were neatly pressed with a crease down each leg. I didn’t see his shoes, but I bet they were well-polished. He took off a pair of silver framed glasses to set on top of his paper. I got closer but I stopped seeing his smile. It was friendly, but there was something about it that put my teeth on edge. He noticed my nervous glance and tried to appear more human. “Come over miss. Please, I’m not going to eat you.” He spoke in a very soft voice that had a hint of an accent. British maybe? I saw a hint of a sharp set of teeth and doubted his claim. I walked in front of his desk but didn’t sit down. “Am I in the right place?” I asked slowly wanting to run. “If you’re looking for groceries, then no. But if you are looking for The Friday Agency, then yes.” He joked. I forced out a smile. He didn’t look offended. “You’re the owner Mr...?” I asked looking around for a name tag on his desk. “Friday.” He introduced himself. “I guess that makes it easy to understand. Well, Mr. Friday, I’m fairly certain my house Is mega haunted.” I said feeling an odd weight off my chest after admitting something I’d held onto for over a month. His expression fell slightly as if he lost interest in my business. “Well, I do ask clients relating to a haunting to get a carbon-” I cut him off, hands up to assure him I wasn’t crazy. “I’ve done that! I have one in every room! I’ve got people to come in to check the heating, the attic, the installation, everything! I bought sage and crystals even though I don’t believe in that stuff. Trust me, if you thought of it, I’ve done it trying to get rid of all these damn issues. I don’t even believe in ghosts, but something is going on with that place.” His steel grey eyes looked interested after the first few words. Very interested. I doubted he had too many people who came in that didn’t spout nonsense. You needed to believe in all sorts of things to even get here in the first place. “What sort of things are you experiencing?” He questioned as he picked up a blank sheet of paper. He put his glasses back on which made him look older. I guess he was forty, at most. His black hair had some grey on the sides, but his face was clear of wrinkles. I wondered if anyone told him he looked like an old British librarian before. “What hasn't been happening? The house started creaking. Things get moved around. I’ve woken up with bruises on my wrists, and socks missing for some reason. I have cameras everywhere. They’ve caught a shadow figure, with some mist. But I haven’t been sleepwalking. I swear I’m living in a crappy horror movie.” I said with a long sigh. “This does sound troublesome to deal with. Have you contacted any other experts? Considering you have recorded proof...” Friday asked as he wrote a few final notes. “What experts? Most are frauds who would be after my family's money. The real believers are nuts. I refuse to let anyone see those damn shadow figure videos because it would cause way more problems. People would be saying I faked it for attention. Others would try to see what angle they could play to benefit them. Augh, it’s been a mess.” A smile crept over his face, one far more genuine than his first. “So, to deal with the supernatural you decided to rely on the supernatural?” He asked, a pen hovering in his hand. “You look human. But yes. I can make a deal for my kidney or firstborn if I get rid of this damn ghost.” He needed to hide a fit of laughter behind his hand. At least someone found my suffering amusing. “I’ll take your case. My payment won’t be such things. I do take regular money. However, I may ask for something else. It shall be nothing you’ll be forced to part with or an agreement made by force. I am not in the practice of taking advantage of my clients.” Well, that was comforting. I still didn’t fully trust him. Or believe he wasn’t human. This all felt too real to be some sort of supernatural deal. “Can I get that last part in writing?” I said with a raised eyebrow. He let out a very small laugh again to pull a written agreement from his desk. He let me read it over a few times making sure I wasn't missing anything. What he said was the same as the document. We would decide on the amount or payment I felt comfortable with after the job was finished. The reason for payment to be decided afterward was because the job may turn into a bigger deal than what was expected. My small ghost might turn into a demon infestation. We both signed the contract, my face slightly red because he saw my full name written down. “Now, Miss Ryver would it be possible to take care of your haunted house today? Or would you like to schedule for a different time?” I hated the fact my parents spelled my name with a Y. Like, who even does that? I put that mortifying detail aside to focus on his question. “I just kinda figured you could only finish this today.” I shrugged. “My office is only open to the public on Fridays. I take private, and certain clients on other days. If you are alright with today, then I suggest we get started.” I followed him to the door and watched as he put on a grey wool jacket that matched my own. Right down to the large black buttons. His was just longer. I didn’t know how I felt about us having the same taste in jackets. I didn’t know where I ended up, so I put my address into my phone’s GPS to get back home. The walk was the same amount of time it took to get to his office. When I looked over my shoulder after we left, I saw the building had disappeared. A chill ran down my spine as I prayed that I did the right thing going to him for help. The walk back was silent between us. Another mortifying detail came up as I punched in the code for the front gate. I hated people knowing where I lived. My parents had a decent amount of money. I didn’t. Anything I had I worked for. It may have been working at their company, but I still earned it. The only thing they ever gave me was this house. I took care of it on my own. No maids, no lawn services. I needed to earn it, and I refused for some damn ghost to ruin this place for me. Friday didn’t appear to care about the size of the place. He did stop to look at the ponds out front. I think he liked the comet goldfish I stocked them with. I hung up my jacket when we got inside, and he did the same. It was nice to be in from the cold but now I needed to deal with removing an unseen pest. I let Friday walk across the marble flooring and to the middle of the front room. He looked around, alert, his senses taking in things I couldn’t. “There is something here. It is too weak for my nose to pinpoint. This may be... tricky.” He frowned and then appeared as if he was thinking. “Tricky in what way?” I pressed. “For me to get a better sense of what is here, I would like to make it an offering to increase its power. However, I do not wish for you to be here if this presence decides to lash out. I fear that if you leave, then whatever is here won’t show itself.” He explained. “I hired you to get rid of this ghost. If it starts acting up, I’ll leave. I don’t mind a few scares or scratches. I’ll just stay away from some stairs in case it gets any ideas.” I got another natural smile from him. At least he had a sense of humor. I still didn’t like how he held himself. There was something... inhuman about him. I could deal with that for as long as I needed to. For a second, I thought I made a mistake trusting him after he pulled out a very small thin golden knife from his pocket. Without warning, he dug the blade into his hand, letting a steady stream of blood flow to the floor. “Gross.” I commented. He pulled the blade free, the wound appearing to disappear along with the blood. One less thing to clean up later. “That helped. The traces are still faint, but I may be able to piece together what this so-called ghost wants. First, let’s go upstairs.” I went up first in case my unwanted invisible roommate tried anything. Which did happen. Just before I reached the last few steps, my feet flew out from under me. I let out a scream of fear. Shooting pain came up from both my ankles. Friday saved me from smashing my face into the hard steps. I sat shaking for a second as he made sure I wasn’t going to go flying down the stairs. “I can’t believe the bastard tried something on the stairs! If he wasn’t dead, I would kill him again!” I hissed, anger almost overriding my fear. “I don’t doubt that.” Aside from a bit of shock and some new bruises from wherever those unseen hands grabbed my ankles, I was fine. I led the way again, my steps slow and careful. My hired help behind me. At times he paused to walk the same spot on the floor, his expression intent and ears open. He even stopped to rock his heels on one spot hearing something I didn’t. Since I caught the shadow figure outside my bedroom. I wanted Friday to clear that room. I hated how it became nearly impossible to sleep fearing someone was right behind my door. I was in such a rush to take care of this ghost I forgot to hide my laundry basket of dirty clothing. As Friday looked around the room. I carefully kicked the basket into my closet with one foot. “You mentioned some socks have gone missing. Has there been any other articles of clothing-” Friday started to ask. A set of strong hands grabbed my shoulder from behind. Within a second, I was dragged into my closet, the doors slamming shut. I screamed, reaching out in the sudden darkness to take hold of the doors to pry them open. My heart was racing knowing I wasn’t alone. I thought I heard Friday’s voice on the other side calling out for me. I put that at the back of my mind when I heard breathing behind me. The hot air on the back of my neck. My skin crawled and my hands shook too much to get out. I hated the idea of knowing what was behind me. But I needed to look at it to see what I was facing. Slowly, I turned my head, sweat dripping down my face. All I saw was a set of eyes staring back at me. Then, white teeth in the darkness emerged. “Ryver...” A voice rasped out. I screamed louder than I ever had in my entire life. My body acted on its own. I clenched my fist and punched it forward as hard as I could. Of course, you can’t punch a ghost. My hand kept going hard into the wall. My knuckles screamed out in pain. I found myself stuck, struggling to get free just as Friday got the doors open. He saw me, tears in my eyes and my hand wrist deep in the drywall. He looked me over, unsure of what to say. “A ghost pulled me in here.” I said, voice hoarse with tears. He got to work freeing my hand. We walked out into the light to make sure I didn’t break any bones. Only the wall. “How strange. I did not sense a ghost. I did see you fall backward, and I did feel some sort of power. But this does not feel like a ghost...” Friday said mostly to himself. “I don’t really care what kind of spook it is! It just needs to be gone!” My fear had turned to slight rage at that point. He didn’t notice my tone at all. A small sound coming from the closet distracted him. After making sure my hand wouldn’t fall off, Friday went back inside despite my protests. I refused to go beyond the doors, so I watched him from the outside. He pushed aside clothing and junk not paying any attention to what he touched. His hand fell over the hole I punched in the wall as if feeling a breeze. “How old is this house?” he asked. “I dunno. Old.” I said very helpfully. “Did you do any remodeling?” “Yeah. My parents redid the entire thing before I moved in.” He nodded at my answer and then committed to his property damage. I held my tongue to watch him tear a bigger hole in the drywall. An opening covered in spider webs slowly being revealed by the damage. When the hole was big enough, he fit his head inside to look down. I nearly screamed over the thought of whatever bugs made a home behind the wall and now could crawl into the light. “It’s a dumbwaiter shaft. I believe this goes all the way to the ground floor. There may be a few of these in the building. There is no cable, but I would like to see where this goes. I can climb along the other side of this wall.” He was thin enough to fit inside the space. He went into tearing more drywall just enough to get his legs through. “You’re just going to leave me here?!” I said shocked at the idea. “You tried to punch a ghost and it left. You should be alright on your own for a short while.” He already had one leg through the hole, his trustworthy expression not comforting me at all. “There’s spiders in there!” I made an attempt to scare him to stay out of my damn walls. “I liked spiders. They're more afraid of us than we are of them. I’ll call if I need someone punched in the face.” I cannot believe he made a joke before he crawled inside, leaving me alone in my room. I tried to stay calm as I waited for him to come back. Would he come back? Or would he get eaten in there? My mind got away from me as I imagined this entire house being a creature ready to swallow us both whole. I never should have let my parents get this damn place. After I got it, I didn’t want to go back on their gift and sell it. Hell, if I tried to sell it, they would just give me a different house. I never wanted to be the stuck-up rich girl getting rid of a place because of a bad vibe. I could have sworn I saw a dark shape standing in the corner of my eye. The breathing I heard before came from the direction of my doorway. I refused to give the thing any attention. No matter how scared I was, or how much my hands shook I pretended it wasn’t there. The floor creaked as the shape took one small step closer. I took a hold of my hands, gripping them together. My bruised knuckles hurt right away. Was this a trap that Friday set? Did he leave the room to lure this thing out to somehow kill it? Or did he just leave me here to fend for myself? I gritted my teeth together as I waited. The breathing crept closer, a thousand horrible ideas running through my head. The slightest touch came at the back of my neck nearly making me cry out. “Can you come to the attic? I found something disturbing.” Friday’s voice came from the hole, but I didn’t see him. The spell of terror broke. What had been inside the room faded leaving me alone once again. I almost considered my mind was playing tricks on me. The fact Friday said disturbing didn’t register until I was out of the room. He hadn’t been affected by anything yet. So, what the hell was in the attic that made him use that word? I’ve never been up into the attic. The drop-down ladder broke, and I never replaced it. I kept a step ladder in the closet by the opening. The workers used it to get up there, but they were taller than me. Friday opened the hatch, his clothing dusty from exploring. I got to the top of the ladder before I realized my mistake. He held out a hand and I took it. To my surprise, he was much stronger than he looked. With ease he pulled me through, careful not to rip my arm off when he did so. The attic was dusty as hell. I hated touching the floor with only socks on. I wished I kept my shoes. It was empty except for leftover cobwebs. A large window gave us enough grey light to see by. I didn’t know why he dragged me up here until I saw another new hole far off in the corner of the room. I sighed knowing I needed to crawl through that. My arms itched as I got down low to get into the small opening. An orange light came from a bare lightbulb overhead. My hands touched some old food wrappers scattered on the floor. This walled-off space looked like a rat’s nest. A pile of blankets sat off to the side. My missing socks mixed into the pile. To my embarrassment, I saw a pair of stolen underwear as well. The far wall had been covered up with a blanket that looked less dusty than the others. The horror of what I was seeing finally dawned on me when Friday fit himself through the makeshift door. “Was... someone living up here?” I asked in a small voice. “Unfortunately, yes. The dumbwaiter cables have been broken. I believe before that happened, they used it to get between floors. I did not go very far, but it would make sense if a hidden door opened to the kitchen. Or to a different floor where they could get outside for their food in case you did not notice anything missing. This is shocking; however, I covered the most startling part of this discovery.” If someone lived inside my walls, and up here in the attic, that would have explained everything. Everything besides what started to happen when Friday came inside the house. I had a ghost, that was for sure. But I also had someone living up here. I dreaded what I would see behind the blanket Friday pinned up. I gathered all my courage to pull up a corner only to see my face looking back. A cut out of my face. On a very suggestive print of another woman’s body. I didn’t need to see more of this wall to know what it was. Some freak had taken photos of my face to create his disgusting shrine. I noticed a closed laptop. My stomach churning over the ideas of what might be on that hard drive. Did he have cameras around my place without me knowing? If he did, are there videos of me online somewhere? When I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I lifted the blanket enough to see rolls of duct tape next to the laptop. I couldn’t hold it in. My stomach turned. I quickly got to the corner of the room to get sick. That freak had plans for me. I’d been sleeping in this house unaware of the terrible fact someone else had been watching. Waiting to do something unspeakable. A hand touched my back. I lashed out, hitting Friday hard in the shoulder. The punch was hard enough to knock him back a little. “Sorry, I should have given you some warning.” He admitted. The poor guy wanted to make me feel better and I punched him. “Sorry. And thanks. I just... what the hell do I do with all this?” “Well, contact the police to start with.” He suggested. I hated the fact that the comment made me laugh. My eyes sting from tears. My mouth tasted terrible from getting sick but at least I wasn’t alone in all this. I almost forgot the whole ghost thing which came back to bite us in the ass. Something didn’t like us getting along. I watched in horror as some force knocked Friday to the ground. I reached for him, but my fingers just brushed against his polished shoes. A black cloud of mist seeped from between the wooden boards, covering the person I hired to help. It roughly dragged him close to the opening to the empty dumbwaiter shaft ready to pull him in. I ran over wanting to do whatever I could to help. My feet got tangled in the discarded blankets. I screamed as I fell forward into the black mist. I kept falling until I hit the old wood by the shaft, my weight enough to break through it. The black mist tried to keep me from falling but I pushed away from it, unaware that I doomed myself. I fell back into the empty shaft. An exposed board hit my head so hard I saw stars, and then nothing at all. I should have died. If I didn’t have Friday there, I would have. In fact, I never would have figured out what was in my house. Knowing didn’t make me feel any better. Neither did waking up on my cold basement floor with a splitting headache. I didn’t sit up for a few minutes just trying to get my act together. When I did sit up to look around, I saw the opening of the shaft we fell through. I realized that Friday came down the shaft either after or before me when I saw his left arm bloody at his side. His elbow didn’t look at the right angle and yet he moved as if it wasn’t hurting him. “You should see a doctor shortly. Any blow to the head that knocks you out could be serious.” He commented after he noticed I woke up. I looked at his feet trying to make sense of the pile of trash at his feet. I stored all the leftovers from the reno down here. I assumed the wood and cloth had been from that. When my mind clicked, I was glad I already got sick. “Have you been away from the house for a length of time?” He asked. I couldn’t take my eyes off the pile at his feet. My body felt as if it had sunk into the ground as I nodded. “Last summer... gone for three months.” I replied in a small voice. A dried human hand stuck out from under the boards. Friday kicked the remains of the dumbwaiter aside to show what was left over of the man who had been living inside my house without my knowledge. “The cables snapped while he was inside. It must have happened right before you left. A mixture of the large house, and the cold weather explains how the smell went unnoticed.” Not only did he live in this house, but he also died here. How long have I been living with a ghost? I really couldn’t decide which was worse. Him alive and watching me or this man dead and still watching. Friday used his good hand to dig around in the remains. He pulled out a wallet. An ID had been sticking out of the front slip, otherwise, we would never have been able to open it from the body rotting the leather. “Do you know a Kevin Hampton?” I shook my head again. I’ve known a few Kevins but none with that last name. At least, I thought so. “A guy named Kevin worked on the renovations. I’ll have to ask my parents what his full name was.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer. The black mist followed us down into the basement and it was pissed I forgot his full name. Friday turned ready to fight. His golden letter opener in his hand as if that would do something useful. He lasted five seconds. The mist shot across the room and into the twisted rotten body on the floor. Horror stopped my breathing when that body snapped into place. The joints creaking and popping. The dried flesh barely clinging to the broken bones. Black fog drifted from the empty eye sockets that landed on Friday. Those rotten hands took hold of him. He forced the letter opener into the already cracked skull with no effect. He was tossed clear across the room, landing in a pile of old lumber. The wood and boards fell over kicking up dust. Those terrible eyes turned in my direction. I crawled backward, body shaking. “How dare you! Full name?! Full name?! You bitch! We went to school together!” A hateful voice from the dried lips echoed through the basement. Did I go to school with a Kevin? I must have. But I had no clue who this guy was. I got up wanting to run but my legs shook too badly. I saw a short wooden beam leaning against more junk. I picked it up, holding it like a baseball bat. I doubted I could do anything to this undead creature's weapon or not. “Fuck you dude! Literally, nothing I could have done to you justified you being a creep and making a gross-ass shrine in the attic! And living up there! And fuck, you took my underwear too! Who DOES that!” I found shouting made me only a tiny bit less scared. The creature shouted back a few choice insults and said what it wanted to do to me I don’t ever want to repeat. It took everything I had not to start hitting it with the big stick I found. “We worked together! I never made fun of your name like everyone else! I did everything you asked in school, we were perfect for each other! When your parents hired me, I knew it was being they wanted me to watch over you! To make sure you didn’t bring home creeps and look at who you dragged in! He was crawling through the walls like a freak!” “Calling the kettle black! And I told you, I don’t remember you from school at all! Did you ever even ask me out? Or did you do the whole attic thing first?” I glanced over to see that Friday had almost freed himself from the large pile. If he ran, he wouldn’t have gotten to me in time. The body of my undead stalker closed the gap between us. I hit him as hard as I could, taking a large chunk out of the skull. That didn’t even slow him down. I was forced to the ground screaming, those hands made of nothing but bones holding my wrists together so hard I thought they might break. The skull of a face got closer to mine, black smoke pouring out. A thick disgusting tongue licked his chipped teeth as a hand came down to grab hold of my waist. Each finger digger into flesh so painful tears came to my eyes. “I said we’re perfect for each other. I finally got my body back so I’m going to use it.” The creature whispered. The calmer tone scared me more than his rage. All the fight drained from my blood. I thought I was going to die on the spot. This thing had watched me for months for his disgusting reasons. And for what? Because he thought he was entitled to all of this? I was scared. More frightened than I’ve ever been before. And at the same time, I’ve never been more pissed off. I didn’t even think, I just let out another scream and then used everything I had to push back up. I caught him by surprise. His grip came off my wrist long enough for me to get him on his back so I could sit on his chest. His fingertips still dug into my side, tearing my shirt. I didn’t care. I grabbed anything my hands could reach. I found the wooden beam again. Using both hands I smashed it down into his face. “You can’t!” He sputtered through broken teeth. He might already be dead, but that didn’t stop me. I brought the wood down again and again until the face was nothing but a pile of crushed bone and black smoke. In the struggle, he threw me off. The now headless body crawling blindly on the floor. I was still scared of it. I knew if I let him get away my nightmare would never end. I brought the wood down again, my hands in so much pain from the blows it made me drop my weapon. But I didn’t stop. I stomped again and again. All the frustration and rage poured into one focal point. I wasn’t just lashing out at him anymore. It was for all the times someone felt entitled to my body. For all the creeps at the bus stop. For all the so-called accidental bumps out in public. Every time a stranger found my name, looked me up online, and sent disgusting messages. I even gave him a few extra kicks because I couldn’t turn my mic on the rare times I played any game online. By the time I was done, pieces of the body had been scattered across the cement flooring. The black smoke fled from the host, but it wasn’t as threatening as before. The shape crouched over reeling from the damage, Sharp teeth, and claws showed in case I tried to get closer. I fell to the ground. Exhausted with every part of my body in pain. I cut my hands open in the attack. I might have even broken an ankle from kicking down so hard. If that thing came for me now, I would be done. It didn’t seem to know that. “You cannot defeat me so easily. I devoured that man’s regrets, however, they seemed to be too weak. I’ll just find something stronger to come back for your-” I totally forgot about Friday. I didn’t see what he did, but the dark creature was hit by a blast of white light. It screamed as the body burned away into nothing. I looked over to him, stunned. “It wasn’t a ghost.” He weakly explained. He went on after seeing my expression. “It was a kind of creature that feeds on human emotions. The stronger the emotion, the more powerful it becomes. It also risks having its sense of self-taken over. I suppose that all doesn’t matter considering you put it in its place.” I may have kicked the crap out of that creature, but I didn’t kill it. If Friday wasn’t here that thing for sure would have come back to kill me. I was still shocked that my anger had taken over my fear. What happened finally sunk in, making me shake. I nearly died. Or was eaten. Or something else. I wanted to scream and cry at the same time. I also was too scared to ever live alone again. I lived through today by fighting but I didn’t know how I was going to deal with tomorrow. I found Friday helping me stand again. I needed to take small steps at a time. The first step was to get out of the basement. I caught his eye and suddenly wanted to run again. His good hand held mine tight as he got closer to my face. His expression made my stomach twist. “You know, I wouldn’t mind something special as payment for-” I didn’t let him finish. I grabbed his broken arm and twisted it. He let out a yelp and fell to his knees. I refused to let go, a rage bubbling in my stomach. “I wasn’t serious!” He pleaded. “You better not have been!” I snapped, finally giving back his arm. A sound like a mixture between a laugh and a groan came from him. He dabbed at the corner of his eye with the back of his hand, a human smile on his face. “You'll be fine after all this.” Friday said in a light tone. That comment of his was a test. He was worried I was so traumatized by the whole event I might not fight back the next time something terrible happened. I almost felt bad about hurting him. He stood back up, brushing his clothing off with his good hand. “I’ll contact a detective I have connections with to clean up the rest of this case. I would also suggest some therapy, however, I do not know of anyone that can deal with the supernatural part.” That last part was a good idea. Anyone would need therapy after finding out someone had been living in their attic ready to murder them at some point. “After your friend cleans this up, I am never talking to another man again.” I huffed, still feeling hurt. Friday nodded with an understanding expression but didn’t agree with me. “I am certain there was an underlying illness to Kevin acting the way he did. I have not dealt with the same issues you have faced, but I would like to believe that overall, your experiences with men haven’t been completely negative.” “Did you just ‘not all men’, me?” I said eyebrow raised. His smile dropped to a confused one. “I do not know what that means.” He admitted. I would give him a pass. I wasn’t being serious when I said I refused to talk to any more men again. And he was right. Not all the guys I’ve interacted with have been bad. In fact, only a very small fraction had acted in any kind of negative way. But when they sucked, they sucked hard. “Besides all that...” Friday started. “Unfortunately, we need to agree on a payment for this small job or else I am unable to arrange for my friend for the cleanup. I have rules of how I must run my business. Getting paid is one of them.” My body still hurt. I wished we could do this later but the sooner we figured it out the sooner I could have this over with. “Ok, how much do you want? Do you even want cash? Do you want something else?” I offered unaware of what I walked into. “I would very much like for us to be married if possible.” I looked him over for a very long time looking for the joke. I realized he was honest then raised my hand for another punch. He quickly backpedaled and even took a single step away. “It would be a supernatural connection. It would not affect you in any way. However, it would let me get my foot in the door of this side of things. I would be able to operate my business on more Fridays to humans. If this does not appeal to you, I’ll take any amount you deem fair.” I listened to his explanation and considered it. If I accepted, I would really be helping him out. And he did crawl through a spider-infested wall for me. “What would we need to do? Get dressed up, say some vows or something?” I asked debating the idea. “I would need to kiss your hand. That’s all.” “Really?” That was pretty strange. A simple thing like that and we were married? I thought about the suggestion for a bit. I didn’t answer until we got out of the basement and to the front door. I held out my hand, not saying a word. “Are you certain?” Friday questioned not taking the offer just yet. “You said it won’t do anything to me, right? And this saves me some cash so...” He helped me out today. This was the least I could do for him. Carefully, he took my hand and raised my bruised knuckles to his lips. I looked away embarrassed unable to watch the quick exchange. Friday said I wouldn’t notice anything, but I did. Whatever injuries I had healed up the moment he let go of my hand. A small black band appeared on my ringer finger, looking like a tattoo. That would bother me if it stayed forever. His arm snapped back into place with the blood fading away. My mouth dropped open thinking I just made a bigger deal than I thought. The inhuman expression I glimpsed when we first met came back. I jerked my hand back, fear settling in my stomach again. In the back of my mind, I wondered if I somehow just got played. He acted so human I forgot that I was dealing with a creature I knew nothing about. “Thank you. I’ll have the mess in your basement dealt with right away. Like I said, this marriage won’t affect you in the slightest.” Friday said, his voice sounded much different than how he spoke all day. The marriage wouldn’t affect me. But that didn’t mean I hadn’t just doomed anyone else. I could do nothing but let him take his jacket and leave. After I knew for certain he was gone, I grabbed a change of clothing to stay in a hotel for a day. I didn’t ever want to step foot in my house again. I didn’t care if my parents sold it, gave it away, or burned it down. I no longer have a haunted house. I wonder if just moving would have been the better answer. Either way, my problem was solved. If you have any problems that cannot be fixed by normal means, I would not suggest contacting Friday. I’m still not sure what kind of person he is. He might be a monster in sheep's clothing. I had a feeling he acted nice to me just to get what he wanted in the end. Things worked out for me in the end, I can’t promise it will for you. Or if you’ll get away from the encounter with just lingering nightmares like myself.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/177wnyl/my_experience_with_the_friday_agency/

nosleep

02321

The debt collection agency gave me two options to clear my financial problems. Option 1, severing, is better than option 2.

There was a fish tank in the waiting room. I was used to debt collection agencies as a kid. Mom and dad would sit down on old threaded seats with worn eyes and fake smiles, and I would run over to the fish tank, pressing my hands against the glass and peering inside deep blue. This fish tank was a lot cleaner than any other I had seen. I was used to filthy water layered with algae and dead fish. But this one was definitely looked after. The tank emitted a mesmerising blue light, bathing the room, an influx of tiny silver fish swimming around in maniacal circles. Focusing on it was enough to loosen that knot in my gut, but I was still shaky, making my way over to a plastic chair and plonking myself down. The room reminded me of a hospital waiting room. Bright yellow walls. But they just reminded me of barf, my gut twisting with nausea. The guy crying in the corner wasn't helping. He was my age, a college kid, dark brown curls buried in his lap, legs pulled to his chest like a child. I found myself wondering *how* this kid has ended up here. His jacket was a designer Levi's, and his shoes looked at least over a hundred dollars. But then I remembered what my dad used to tell me. Poor people wear rich clothes to feel rich. Even if they can't afford to feed themselves. He had been sobbing since I walked in. There was nobody else. Just me and the boy who couldn't seem to stop crying. His body heaved, head shaking. Every so often he would reach into his pocket, head still bowed, before his sobs deepened. I thought about asking if he was okay, but every time I leaned forward or cleared my throat, he shrank back into his chair, like a feral animal. There was a flat screen TV playing the same AI generated voice: *"If you're young and healthy, you don't need debt! You need us!"* I didn't touch my phone which kept ringing in my pocket. I didn't want to look at a screen. The last time I had, I was slapped in the face with almost 150k of credit card debt. Which wasn't even mine. My parents used my name to pay for things they already couldn't afford, so I was the one being hounded by bailiffs for a debt that they owed. I often wondered why they both decided to kill themselves when I was still in school. Aunt Clara said they couldn't take it anymore. I thought it was bringing up a fifteen year old with bailiffs trying to throw down our door every night. They starved most of the time, while I ate scraps. Dad got into deals with bad people, and acted surprised when they came to take everything we had. I thought I was what they couldn't take. I complained I didn't have clothes like the kids at school– that my tights had holes in, and my coat was never warm. I was a brat, and I thought they were running away from me. Now I know why. Guilt killed my parents. Or maybe I'm in denial of the truth. They didn't give a fuck, and left their daughter to drown in their mistakes. Every time I thought about my parent's leaving me to their shit, what forced me to work three graveyard shift jobs and still not have enough money to survive—it made me want to follow them. Part of me wished they brought me along in the car, before they poisoned themselves with carbon monoxide, leaving me alone in the world. "Caleb Michaels?" a male voice sliced into my thoughts, crackling over the intercom, and across the room, the boy lifted his head, half lidded eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights. Initially, he looked scared, no, terrified. Before his shoulders slumped. He had that same look in his eyes. When Mom and dad went out on a car-ride, promising they were bringing back Chinese food. Giving up. Mom had an odd smile on her face when she hugged me goodbye. Now I know it was surrendering herself, and giving in. The boy had the exact same relent in his eyes, an almost relieved smile prickling on his lips. But I also saw fear, a terror I couldn't understand. I wondered how much he owed. Suddenly, I wanted to know everything about him. If he was going to attempt to clear his debt, and then follow in my parents' footsteps. He slowly got to his feet, and dragged himself to a white door, before a blue flicker flashed, an eerie green light scanning his face. I had never seen this type of technology, except in sci-fi movies. "Please say your name in full," a robotic voice drawled. "Please refrain from moving, and stare directly at the red light." The boy sniffled, swiping at his nose and eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. "Caleb Michaels," he said softly, his gaze following the light raking up and down his body. "Caleb Jonas Michaels." His name sent chills down my spine. Maybe fate had brought me here after all. "Jonas," I was speaking out loud before I could stop myself. "That was my dad's name." "Fascinating." Caleb's gaze was glued to the light. When it flashed again, he surprised me with a choked out laugh. "I don't want to do this." I nodded slowly. "At least they'll help you," I shrugged in an attempt to reassure him. "I guess? I mean, they have good reviews on their website." The boy turned to me for the fraction of a second, his expression crumpling with confusion. "What?" He twisted back to the light, his breathing shuddery as a mechanical voice began to count down. *Five.* "I shouldn't be here," he whimpered. "My dad sent me. He said I was doing him a favor. And at the time…I didn't care. I already tried to end it anyway, so why would it matter? Caleb shot me a sickly smile. "They gave me six months." I remember how tense his shoulders were, his arms folded across his chest, fidgeting feet unsure how to stand. "But I don't think I can do this," he screwed up his face. "I'm… blood money." Caleb Michaels had an interesting, and yet horrifying life. "Your dad's debt," I said. "I'm here for mine too." He scoffed. "Your folks sold you too, huh." "Well, they're dead, so no. But I did inherit their shit." I swiped my clammy hands on my jeans. "I just hope these guys can relieve me of some of it." Caleb visibly stiffened. The boy didn't turn around, but his voice broke around the words. "Do you even know *why* you're fucking here?" he whispered. "Yeah. Just like you, I'm trying to get help." "No," The boy breathed, "No, you don't… you don't understand. If you don't know why you're here, I suggest you get out of here before they call your name." Caleb's words had emphasis on them, and a chill crept its way down my spine. I was already on my feet, before a firm robotic voice told me to sit down. "Ask to go to the bathroom," Caleb said. "There's a window you can jump out of. There's no cameras, but you have to be quick, or they'll add *interest*–" I expected him to keep talking, but he… stopped. The light on the door flashed green, then blue, and finally white, before his shoulders slumped. Caleb blinked once, hands dropping to his sides. He had noticeably calmed down, but I wasn't sure the sudden blank look in his eyes was normal. Like a light had been switched off. Before I could speak, the door slipped open. "Mr Michaels, we have been waiting for you. Step forward." Caleb did, his body trembling. "Are you… okay?" I managed to get out. Every time I tried to get up, the polite AI voice barked at me to sit down. He didn't answer, didn't even acknowledge my voice. Caleb's expression was flat, and yet there were slight prickles of awareness, his lip twitching, as he strode through the door, which slammed shut behind him. His appointment took exactly five and a half minutes, and I spent every second trying and failing to get out of that room. I asked to go to the bathroom, and was met with, "We are sorry, Miss Holiday! That is not possible right now. Please wait for your appointment." I was in full panic mode when the door finally slipped open, and Caleb strode out. He caught my attention automatically. I don't know if it was the significant change in his mood. He seemed far more relaxed, his head up, back straight, eyes forward, practically dancing across the waiting room floor. There was a band-aid stuck to his right temple, I noticed. Not just that. The boy's jacket was gone, leaving him in a shirt and jeans. His eyes were too wide, lips pulled back into an unsettling grin. I could almost mistake his walk for more of a strut. He leapt over the coffee table, landing perfectly, heading over to the door. I watched him, baffled. After shooting the door a hesitant look, I half stood up, awaiting the inevitable order to sit down. "Caleb?" I couldn't help myself. Something ice cold crept down my spine when his head snapped around, narrowed eyes flicking to me. It wasn't just his behaviour that was different. His entire demeanour had changed. He looked noticeably different, an eerie glow to his skin. His eyes were hollow of emotion. Caleb's smile widened, and I could see the strain in his jaw, a smear of red gathering at the edge of his lips from the stretching. The boy inclined his head, and something… popped. The blood vessels in his eyes. His smile kept going, widening until I had to look away. "Hi," I whispered. I don't think the robot watching us would appreciate me screaming. I had to stay calm, but every moment standing in front of this guy I had met five minutes ago— transformed into this… this thing, a screech was clawing at my throat. "Did you manage to sort out your debt?" "Huhhhh?" His response confused me, his speech akin to a toddler, and I lifted my head. Caleb's grin was inhuman. Impossible. His eyes scanned me, before he clicked his fingers. "Oh, that!" Caleb laughed through a mouthful of blood, spitting it out. His skin looked almost haggard, like the flesh of a mask, struggling under the weight of his stretchy smile. "Oh yeah, we're all good! No problemo." I swallowed. "You mean you're okay now?" The boy pouted, looking more annoyed than anything. "No offense, but I don't want to talk to you. You're boooooring." "But... you're okay." That is all I wanted to know. This man could act like a freak all he wanted, I needed to know he was okay. Caleb's head lolled to the side like answering me was the equivalent to scaling a cliff. His body was almost limp, like even he was struggling to control it. He straightened up, brushing off his shirt. Caleb ran his fingers through his hair, spitting blood into his hands to slick it back. "Sort of!" he said, winking. "Catch ya later, kay?" The boy strolled out of the door, and I noticed the lights slightly flicker overhead. I watched him leave, and I could have sworn two shadows followed his manic steps down the hallway. So did the light. It didn't stop blinking until he was gone, the doors at the end of the hall swinging open and then slamming shut. "Ruby Holiday?" My name was called, and I had a moment of pure desperation. I was already getting to my feet and inching toward the door. "Ruby Holiday," the voice spoke again. Firmer. I expected the same thing to happen, except the door opened like normal. There was no flash of light, no barking order for me to look straight forward. I think that was why I found myself slowly making my way over. Peering through the door, I was in a state-of-the-art looking room. White walls, tiled flooring, and an oldish man sitting on a plush chair. His smile was friendly. I noticed there was nowhere for me to sit down. The man offered me juice, and I shook my head, standing with my arms folded. The door slid shut behind me, and I found myself backing away. "Hello, Ruby! Are you here to clear debt with us?" I nodded uncertainly, my gaze skimming the room. It was large, and yet far too empty. There was just the man sitting behind a simple desk. Outside, a loud crash sounded, and I jumped. Sirens followed. It sounded like a car collision. The man didn't even blink. "Ignore that," he chuckled with an eye roll. "The young ones like to show off." "Young ones?" He nodded. "Yes. They like to cause trouble once fully assimilated." With a sigh, the man opened up his MacBook. I glanced at his screen. Caleb's name was still displayed in a folder. "Ruby Holiday," he hummed, clicking the tracking pad. "Ah, yes. Your debt was sold to us two weeks ago," he leaned in, his lip curling, glasses bouncing on his nose. "You owe 150 thousand dollars," the man whistled. "That's a lot for your age!" "It's not mine." The man chuckled. "You are not the only one." He clucked his tongue, his gaze still on the screen. "All right. Based on your initial debt, as well as interest we add on for our sign up fee, I can do a full body severing. Head, torso, legs and organs," he pulled out an iPad, his smile unwavering. "Do you have anyone with you to say goodbye? I suggest you call a parent–" he caught himself. "Sorry. I mean a loved one. We can do this without one, but severed bodies with negative emotion tend to be harder to sell. It's quite sad. Consciousness can hold on. Which isn't good for clients." I didn't realize I was on my knees, until I could the ice cold marble tiles grazed my legs. My stomach heaved, my thoughts dancing. His words didn't make sense– but after what I had seen with his last customer, part of me did. The man peered at me over his laptop. "This is a normal reaction, Miss Holiday. Please take a moment to think," he cleared his throat. "Do make sure to call a loved one, though. I need to make this quick. I have another client in…" he made a point of looking at his watch. "Ten minutes." He stood to his feet, and that was when I threw up, spew dribbling down my mouth and chin. "It's quick and clean, Ruby. I can assure you." The man mimed slicing his own throat. "Our state of the art lazors will dismember you in a matter of seconds and clean up any mess. Usually, we donate your filling. However," he peered at his notes. "Your organs will be part of the debt! So, ah, yes, yours will be more challenging." I think time stopped. I didn't look up, until I was sure I wasn't about to be ripped apart. When I did eventually look up, I was sitting in a smaller room, my head full of fog. My body did not feel like mine. I was a stranger inside it, my head lolling to the left, then the right, my gaze lazily taking in my surroundings. This room was made up of silver. I saw the metal slab of a bed in the corner of my eye, still stained revealing red. The tray of sharp instruments, and the futuristic machines on the ceiling. I tried to move, but his hands held me down. The man was kneeling in front of me, a marker pen in his hand. He had already sliced into my jeans and marked where he would begin cutting. Both of my arms were limp by my sides, black marker pen scribbled over my skin. "Miss Holiday, please look at me," he ordered. "Eyes forward, please." I did, blinking rapidly. Outside, the sky was darker. "*This* he gestured to my skin marked for severing. "Is your first option." His lips pricked into a smile when my thoughts stirred, and I revelled in the hope of maybe not being sliced apart. "Would you like to hear the second?" I nodded dizzily, my eyes stinging. The man straightened up. "What you just witnessed, is the second option." *Caleb.* I must have spoken out loud because he nodded. "We have two options for our customers. We offer either full body severing, or what we call assimilation. They are no different from one another, except instead of being separated from your body all together, you will be…" he shrugged. "I guess we could call it being rewritten. Like a file on a hard drive." "Caleb." I said, and he nodded grimly. "Mr Michaels will be a problem, considering his father failed to let me know of his… condition. I have no doubt I will be receiving a call any day now." he screwed up his face. "But yes. What you say today, was the final stages of full assimilation." he pointed to me. "Today, you are having your first consultation," he chuckled. "Well, I already did it while you were sedated. I also began stage one of assimilation, so please do not mind the symptoms. Collapsing, and astral projection is completely normal. We already have four clients interested in assimilating with you, so what I suggest is you look after yourself." he shoved a piece of paper in front of my face. "Sign here." I did. It took me three times to write it. I was just happy with not being cut apart. He nodded at me to leave. "I will see you in three days when you enter the second stage," his lips quirked into a smile. "Please take care of the body now, since it is owned by us. No binge eating, drugs, drinking, and refrain from intercourse. It can… *disturb* the process. You must be gentle. No sudden movements. I also advise against driving heavy machinery." His voice was following me out of the door, when I stumbled back into his office, and then through the door into the waiting room. "Oh, and if you do not return, we will come and get you." When the door slammed behind me, he was waving. I was screaming. Last night, I spent the night with a guy I met from college. I had three pizzas, washed down with enough cocktails to send me into orbit. Should I have let them take me apart there and then? It would be better than waiting to die. Not even die. Be **Rewritten.** I have my second consultation on Monday. I need to destroy my body before they take it away from me. Before they take me away.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/177yw82/the_debt_collection_agency_gave_me_two_options_to/

nosleep

Trash_Tia

The Monster-in-Law Files: Lily's Birthday Nightmare

Previous instalment here: https://redd.it/15vvwk0 For Amy and her siblings, birthday parties were always a disaster, courtesy of (who else?) their mother Maura. The bitch just had an unparalleled talent for spoiling all the fun; for turning a child's special day into a mess of disappointment and humiliation. "None of us had a decent birthday until *after* we had moved out," Amy once said to me, and proceeded to tell me some horror stories. There was Cameron's sixth birthday, when Maura got angry that her son seemed more enthusiastic about the train set he had received from his aunt Jane than the baseball glove from his mother, and so tried to smash it with the piñata stick while David, in a rare instance of manning up, held her back. There was Ella's twelfth birthday, when the girls were dancing to music on the radio and a song with somewhat raunchy lyrics came on. Maura, a prude of the highest order, flipped out and went on a big angry rant about how much it disgusted her that a song like *that* would be allowed on public radio. Somehow, this evolved into an even bigger, *angrier* rant about the overall "lack of decency" displayed by young women these days and how Ella and her friends were all shaping up to be "shameless sluts who strut about town with their tits hanging out, each on the hunt for a dirty older man who will screw that little sense she has left out of her." Oh, and then there was Amy's ninth birthday. Things were going surprisingly well until Maura abruptly decided that Amy didn't seem grateful enough for the party being thrown for her. And if there was one thing Maura hated more than non-prudish women, it was ingratitude. So after the guests had sung "Happy Birthday" and Amy had blown out her candles, Maura picked up the cake and told the girls to put on their shoes and head outside. Amy assumed that, since it was so nice out, they'd be having cake in the back yard. But Maura instead led them all to the park across the street, one with a duck pond. She then proceeded to toss the beautiful red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting, piece by piece, into the water for the ducks to eat. Amy just stood there and cried while her friends tried in vain to comfort her. The worst part, according to Amy, was that the whole time Maura had this big smirk on her face, like the destruction of her daughter's birthday cake and said daughter's distress over it were freaking *amusing* to her. The mental image set my blood boiling. I mean, how spiteful and sadistic do you have to be to pull a stunt like that? Why am I telling you all this, you ask? What relevance does it have to the story, you ask? Well, it wasn't enough for Maura to ruin her children's birthdays; there was also the time she ruined Lily's fifth birthday party. And the mess she made of that day was far, *far* worse than anything Amy, Cameron, or Ella ever had to endure. It all started with Maura going behind our backs and hiring a clown to come perform at the party. She didn't do it because it was something Lily particularly wanted; she did it because she was stupid enough to believe it would get her back in our good graces. You see, at this point, Amy and I were still firm about restricting Maura's contact with Lily. It wasn't even entirely because of the whole kidnapping debacle; it was also because, well, Maura was a toxic waste dump of a woman whom Lily was better off being as little as possible. But did Maura understand that? *Pfft*, fuck no. She was incensed that Amy and I were depriving her of a relationship with her favourite grandchild, and I think the clown was also in part to spite us. See what a *wonderful* grandmother she was, hiring entertainment for Lily's party? Why hadn't Amy and I thought to do that? We must not love her the way *Maura* did. So the clown arrived just as Amy and Maura were on the verge of brawling on the lawn in front of all the kids. You see, Maura had come over to drop off her present for Lily, but now she was refusing to leave. She insisted that she had a right to stay for the show, since *she* was the one who had hired Mr. Chuckles. "Who the hell is Mr. Chuckles?" Amy demanded. Why, a clown, of course! He performed at children's birthday parties with his trusty sidekick, Chortles the Chimp! A *chimp*? Oh, fuck, no! It had been many years since that infamous chimpanzee attack down in the States, the one that ended in a woman getting her face and hands torn and chewed off, but Amy and I still remembered. In fact, in the aftermath of that incident, I had gone down a rabbit hole of researching chimpanzee attacks. I have a pretty strong stomach for gore and body horror and all that, but the things I read and the images I saw left me genuinely disturbed. It's insane, the amount of damage those creatures can inflict on a human body. And it seemed that all the worst attacks were carried out by chimps who had been raised by humans, either as pets or in captivity. Despite us being closely related genetically, mixing people with chimps just seems to be a recipe for disaster. Amy and I did *not* want this Mr. Chuckles fellow bringing his chimp to our daughter's party; we were worried not only for Lily's safety, but for that of her guests as well. But when Amy told Maura this, Maura got all pissy and told her not to be silly, that the chimp would pose no threat to the kids, and that Amy should be thanking her. Things got heated pretty fast, as they always did between Amy and her mother. The kids were starting to gawk, Lily looked like she might start crying any second, and I was feeling sick to my stomach, watching the situation devolve. Then, a timid voice cut through the buzz of angry voices: "Hello? Is this the Poirier residence?" Maura, Amy, and I all turned. Standing on the lawn, looking uncertain, was a kid in a polka dot clown suit and a curly red wig, his gaudy clown makeup doing little to conceal the fact that he looked barely out of college. In one white-gloved hand, he held a thin red leash, which was clipped to a harness, which was being worn by a chimpanzee. "I'm Mr. Chuckles. And this is Chortles," said the clown, nodding at the ape. "We are here to put on a show." The kids went crazy at the sight of the chimp. They gathered around, squealing with delight, trying to pet it. Chortles shrank back, baring his teeth; his fangs gleamed wickedly in the summer's afternoon sun. He wasn't large (we would later learn that he was not yet fully grown), but he looked strong, muscles rippling underneath his bristly black hair. Lily rushed forward, arms out as if she was going to hug the creature; I grabbed the back of the dress and held her back while she protested and squirmed. Maura clapped her hands and cackled with delight. "Oh, he is *so cute*!" she shrieked, and to this day I still believe that it was her high-pitched, grating screech of a voice that set off Chortles. He wrenched himself free of his handlers grip and began to charge, barreling on all fours through the crowd of kids, knocking them down as he went. They all began to scream and freak out, flying off in all directions in an attempt to escape the rampaging beast. Maura, shrieking like a tornado siren, grabbed Lily and fled into the house, slamming the door behind her. Chortles was running in circles around the back yard, popping balloons, shredding streamers, and tossing aside wrapped presents. Amy stood up, clapped her hands, and hollered for them all to calm down and gather around her. She's an elementary school teacher, you see, and good at wrangling kids. They all huddled around her legs, and she ordered them to line up behind her and follow her inside... *carefully* and *quietly.* She began leading them in a single file back to the house. I spotted Maura in the living room window, waving her arms above her head, her lipsticked mouth a perfect *o* as she continued to wail. By now, Amy and the kids had reached the door, and my wife reached out and turned the knob... Only to discover that Maura had locked it. Amy yelled for Maura to let them in, right fucking now. Maura yelled at her to go away, that all that mattered was that Lily was safe. Amy yelled back that there were eight other children in need of safety, and if any of them got mauled by that crazy animal, Maura would be charged with child endangerment. Amy didn't know whether that was true or not, but it worked; Maura unlocked the door, and Amy made a point of elbowing her in the stomach as she hustled the kids inside. Petty, but it felt good. Oh, and throughout all this, Chortles was still tearing around at a dizzying pace, his angry animal screams piercing the hot, stagnant air. He grabbed one of the presents and began gutting it with his bare hands; a severed Barbie leg whizzed past me like a bullet, grazing the tip of my nose. I grabbed a rake that was leaning up against the tool shed and gave chase, trying to hit Chortles with it, but kept missing. Mr. Chuckles was yelling commands at the chimp: "Stop, stop! Come! Stop! Come! *Stop*, Chortles!" He was trying to sound stern and authoritative, but I could tell that he was scared, and had little control over the situation. At one point, he reached inside the bag he'd been carrying, pulled out a water gun, and squirted Chortles with it. It was about as useful as taking a piss on a forest fire. My chase was cut off when I stepped in a hollow in the ground and went sprawling, the impact slamming the wind out of me. For a moment all I saw were colours and shapes as I struggled to catch my breath. Over the roar of adrenaline, I heard a scream. A *human* scream. When I could see again, the sight that greeted me is forever branded onto my memory, a gruesome scar that will never fade. Chortles was on top of Mr. Chuckles, mauling him. Blood sprayed out in all directions, painting the grass a livid red. The young man was kicking and flailing as if he were being drowned, but he wasn't screaming, and that was somehow more terrifying than any sounds he might have been making. In less time than it takes to blink, I was on my feet, rake in hand. I had rolled my ankle in the fall, and pain rushed up my leg as I half-ran, half-hobbled over and began slamming hitting Chortles on the back and head, screaming at him to stop. My vision had gone fuzzy and white at the edges. I was pure adrenaline, my arms slashing through the air like swords as I lifted the rake and brought it back down as hard as I could, again and again and again. Chortles didn't even seem to feel the blows, and was now chewing on the clown's throat. But then I struck him on the top of the head, and he whipped around, a feral snarl on his face. He leaped at me, knocking me down again, and crouched on my chest like a sleep paralysis demon... except he was no figment of my imagination. He opened his mouth, so wide it seemed to fill my entire field of vision. Strips of flesh dangled from his incisors like party streamers; globules of blood clung to his fangs like bright red balloons. It was like I was being welcomed into the world's most nightmarish party... a party celebrating my death. I closed my eyes. No, a film reel of my life did *not* play out against the backdrop of my eyelids, because real life is rarely so horrendously cliché. I *did*, however, picture myself lying in chewed-up, bloody pieces on the lawn. All because of Maura and her inability to keep the fuck out of my family's lives. But Chortles never got the chance to tear my face off. Because there was a *crack*, like lightning striking, and he became dead weight before rolling off of me. The police, summoned by Amy, had arrived. One of them had shot the chimp in the head, killing him instantly and saving my life. I was in shock and could only lie there uselessly until two of the cops hauled me to my feet and began helping me back to the house. At this point, the paramedics were also there, and had Mr. Chuckles on a stretcher. As they lifted him to load him into the ambulance, I saw his face, which was a churned-up mess of red meat, yellow fat, and white bone. I puked all over the grass. Then I spotted something lying there: an ear. I stared at it, the pink whorls, the fleshy lobe, thinking how alien it looked detached from a human head. Then I puked *again* and passed out. When I came to, lying on the couch, the boys in blue were trying to calm down Amy and the kids, who were all horribly shaken up by what they had just witnessed. Meanwhile, Maura had was on the phone with David back at home, telling him all about how the chimp had tried to maul her. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mr. Chuckles survived. He lost his left ear, most of his nose, and three fingers and half a thumb on his left hand. Still, the doctors were able to mostly reconstruct his face, rendering him mostly back to normal. At least, he wasn't left as nearly as disfigured as I'd imagined. I know this because I looked him up recently, and he's still performing, though as a magician instead of a clown. All I can say is, I just hope he was able to recover mentally. Lily and her friends were traumatized, as you can imagine. Many of the parents were pretty upset that their children had been exposed to something so horrific, and would not let them attend any more of Lily's birthday parties in the future. For weeks afterward, Lily had nightmares and ended most nights sandwiched between Amy and I in bed. We ended up having to take her to a child psychiatrist, and after a few sessions, began sleeping through the night again. But to this very day, she still has a fear of not only chimpanzees, but primates of any kind. And Maura? Well, Maura not only refused to take responsibility for what had happened, but also had to make it all about *her.* She would tell the story again and again at every Sunday Dinner or holiday gathering, treating it like a spectator sport. And she always twisted the details so that *she* looked like the biggest victim, or the hero. Sometimes, Chortles had bitten her on the leg as she rushed the kids to safety. Other times, she saved the day by running back out and stabbing the chimp with a knife, distracting him long enough for the cops to rush in and subdue the animal. It never seemed to occur to her that she was telling each new version of the story to people who had heard the previous ones and *knew* she was full of shit. At the very first Christmas after the attack, Maura moaned about how she still had nightmares about Chortles coming back to finish her off. Her mother Elizabeth, seated beside her at the dinner table, stroked Maura's hair as if she were still a child and cooed at her that it was okay, that the "mean old monkey" was now dead and couldn't get to her. Amy, seated next to me, gripped her wine glass so hard I swear I heard it crack. "I wish the chimp really *had* attacked you," she snarled, and Elizabeth lit into her granddaughter for being so horribly "unsympathetic" to her mother's "trauma." She was still enabling Maura's bullshit, even after all these years. So that's it. That's the story of how Maura ruined Lily's fifth birthday party. And how she *still* managed to cause misery and grief for all of us despite our attempts to keep her at bay. But as the next story I have planned will demonstrate, Maura is impossible to repel entirely. No matter how impenitrable you think the walls you've put up are, she will always find a crack and slither in like the snake she is, wreaking havoc on the lives of everyone whose path she crosses.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1786bgt/the_monsterinlaw_files_lilys_birthday_nightmare/

nosleep

CynicHappy

Recurrent Nightmare - Help

So, to preface this, I don't typically use Reddit and the only reason I created an account was to be able to read threads when googling certain questions or topics. That said, I'm not sure where else to turn to about my situation (family/friends have been dismissive or not taking me seriously) and I have seemingly run out of time: I have always been an intense dreamer, ever since around the age of twelve. I can't control them, but I can remember them in vivid detail and am able to jot down pages of information about them in my dream journal. The dreams themselves have ranged from terrifying nightmares to beautiful sceneries of places I have never seen in person, but mostly it's just weird and random events. Despite my constant years of dreaming, I have only once had a situation in which it was recurrent. It was a nightmare about a young woman in a robin-egg blue dress, tattered and speckled with spots of blood. It started around the end of my senior year of college. I would be having a nonchalant dream when suddenly I would get an unnerving feeling that I was being watched by someone. An evil presence would fill the air and it would not be long before I would scan my surroundings and spot her bright red hair, done up like she was heading to some sort of prom-like event. She often would be standing amongst a crowd of faceless strangers or crouched behind an object nearby, usually a green dumpster for whatever reason. Every single time our eyes meet, her once beautiful face distorts to a look of almost pure hatred and blood starts trickling out of her eyes and spilling down her mouth. Before I can react, she then takes off in a full sprint at me, like a predator hunting down its prey. I would desperately try to wake myself up by screaming and floundering about like a fish out of water. It was a surreal situation, where I could open my eyes and see my concerned roommate hovering over me desperately attempting to wake me up. My brain is telling me that I am yelling and thrashing, but I am as still as can be. And then when I'd close my eyes, I'd be right back in my dream again. It would take countless attempts of being shaken awake, or when I am alone, basically screaming and forcing my body to move (I eventually wake up in a panic, screaming and unable to catch my breath). These episodes continued on about every week for 3 months. After numerous doctor visits, therapist sessions, and some sleep studies, I was officialy diagnosed with sleep paralysis. Since there is no official cure, I followed all their advice and interventions, and it did slow down the frequency. However, it wasn't until after I graduated from college and moved out of my dorm room that the nightmares about the woman in the blue dress stopped entirely. She never did catch me. Now, for the last ten years I have been seemingly nightmare-free, albeit a few here and there sprinkled in over the decade. This past week, however, has been a different story. It all started last Saturday. I was having a dream about a strange coffeeshop and waiting for a date to arrive. As I sat nervously perched in a booth, a woman with bright red hair walked in. My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. It was the woman in the blue dress. Her neck craned about, almost in a panic, and I knew she was looking for me. But once our eyes locked something strange happened. Her face didn't distort. Blood wasn't leaking from any orifice. She gracefully glided to the booth and sat down in front of me. Her dress was not torn nor sprayed with blood, and she smelled of lilacs. Her emerald-green eyes radiated from the glow of the neon sign hanging off the wall. She offered a half smile and held out her manicured hands. I was hesitant to touch her. But something in deep the back of my mind was telling me it was ok. As soon as our fingers interlocked, she squeezed them tightly and began to chant "Wake up, wake up, wake up" over and over and over again. Her voice was breaking almost in a desperate plea and got louder and louder with each syllable. Something was wrong and it wasn't until then that I felt like I was in danger. Suffering from sleep paralysis for years, I knew how to wake me up. It's a process of being able to convince your mind, usually with fear, to open your eyes from your dream and though you can't move, you can take in your surroundings. With every ounce of energy, I was able to open my eyes. It took a second to adjust to my new surroundings. My eyes darted left. Record covers of my favorite bands were plastered on the wall. I glanced to the right and saw my tv stand, bookshelves, and work desk, littered with empty Chinese boxes from dinner earlier. I was in my apartment. Though I couldn't move, a wave of relief cascaded my body. Then I heard a faint noise. A slow, familiar squeeze broke the silence as the hinges of my door whispered to me that I was not alone. I closed my eyes and was transported back to the coffeeshop. The lady in the blue dress looked bewildered, crying actual tears and begging me to wake up. I started thrashing and screaming at the top of lungs at myself and my brain to move, wake up, anything! Suddenly I was back in my apartment and could see a lone figure standing in the doorway. I could not make out any clear features in the darkened room, but it appeared to be a man. I mustered with all my strength and was finally able to force myself awake. I quickly fumbled over to my lamp and turned it on. The figure was gone, but my door was open (I always sleep with doors closed, whether it's a closet, bedroom, bathroom, etc). I wiped the sweat and tears out of my eyes and though I am not much of a spirtual man, I prayed for an hour straight and was too shaken up to sleep. It had never been that hard to wake up AND I have never once hallucinated my surroundings during my sleep paralysis. Eventually, my nerves settled down and I thought maybe it was just a one-time occurrence and that my mind had just played tricks on me. I mean, I have been pretty stressed out with work lately, my sister is getting married soon in NYC and I'll have to embark on a19ish hour road trip there because I refuse to fly (severe phobia), and my ex-girlfriend of two years left me about three weeks ago. So, it's been a lot honestly. However, the next few nights, the same thing has happened. The coffeehouse, the blue-dress lady, the chanting, the man at my doorway. Only he's getting closer to me each time. I've tried locking my door, sleeping on the couch, and even crashed at a friend's. When I wake up and see him, he is picking up right where he left off - distance wise to me. His long arms jerk in random swift movements while his walk to me is slow yet steady. He doesn't talk, but his head moves side to side so quickly and with so much force, I can hear the vertebrae in his neck breaking with every shake and his face is a blur. Two nights ago, when I had slept at my friend's house, the shadow man was about 3 feet away from me. Last night I was intent on pulling an all nighter, stocking up with energy drinks and playing videogames. However, I must've reached a breaking point of pure exhaustion and dozed off. This time, no coffeeshop. No woman. I was in my apartment, slumped on my sofa. I glanced up and his face, now still, was almost touching mine. I could feel the heat of his rapid breaths on my cheeks. My mind went into overdrive, not computing what my eyes were seeing. I knew who the shadow figure was. It was me. Only my eyes were dark and bleeding, my blue suit covered in blood, and I had this distorted, non-human look of disgust on my face. My heart practically leapt out of my chest, as my start to today began by falling out of my couch and slamming my head onto the corner of my coffee table. I took the day off, but I feel like it was a mistake because all I can think about is not falling asleep. My doctor thinks I am suffering from a nervous breakdown, my sister is worrying more about me than her finalizing last minute wedding details, and my parents think I need to talk to their pastor, and I just don't know what to do. Every time I close my eyes, I see my distorted face or hear the sound of my neck breaking and I just know that deep down, something bad is going to happen the next time I fall asleep. Also, I don't know if it is just my mind playing tricks on me, but I swear I have been smelling the faint smell of lilacs. If I do somehow dream about the coffeeshop first, I don't know if I should trust the lady in the blue dress or not. I feel like she is trying to help me, despite the escalation of my dreams, but I just don't know. Any insight into this issue is much appreciated. Not planning on falling asleep anytime soon but I know it's only a matter of time...

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1783brd/recurrent_nightmare_help/

nosleep

Key_Statement_6494

Meeting my in-laws was the most terrifying experience of my life. My father-in-law’s hands have definitely killed people and they feel slimy.

There’s a point in any relationship with one’s in-laws that the dead come back to life, and you’re left wondering whether the gun in your fiancée’s hands is enough to double-kill the man you were just forced into throat-stabbing. At least that’s what I told myself. Deep down, I knew I was lying. Hell, I knew I was lying at whatever very shallow analogue contrasts with not being “deep down.” [Anyway, the “dead” man’s grimy hands pressed against the floor until he was looking up at me](https://redd.it/1717lr2), his eyes now grayish white, the poker still protruding from the fleshy wound in his throat. It was gross, if I’m being honest; blood covered his dirty skin flaps, looking like someone had dropped an uncooked pizza mid-spin and ripped the dough beneath the sauce. On top of being gross, it was horrifying and *odd*. His face had changed in just a few minutes, resulting in a shrunken nose, raised upper lip, and shriveled ears. His hands had become gnarled and hairy, and his t-shirt was tearing now that his human biceps had been replaced with some sort of cartoon-dimension muscles. “Darn it,” I lamented. “Joseph, please come here behind me,” Lacey whispered as the man got shakily to his feet. “Lacey, darling, I would really like it if you told me what was going on,” I answered, keeping my position between her and the man. “What’s it look like?” she asked in a barely audible voice. “Um – it *looks* like your father tricked me into fighting some sort of poor, cursed man who was waiting to be killed and then made un-dead. Then, after shedding his mortal coil, it seems that he has arisen, phoenix-like, as some sort of a were-lion who has both reason to hate me and a fireplace poker at his disposal.” “Yes.” “I was hoping you’d say ‘no’.” “I’m so sorry, Joseph.” Her voice sounded like fragile glass, ready to break. “Lacey?” “Yes?” “Your father’s a dick.” The were-lion’s roar silenced me, shaking the room so violently that the ceiling’s semi-coagulated blood droplets shook free in a fine spray. “Listen, Joseph, this gun has tungsten bullets, which are the only things that can-” The grimy lion man cut her off. He placed his left palm on my shoulder and threw me to the floor with all the effort and grace of a man wiping his own ass, then swung the poker with his right hand to bat the pistol from Lacey’s grip. It skidded and spun across the room, stopping in a pool of the man’s blood. Movies love to show badass heroes getting knocked to the ground and bouncing right back up as though their veins pump Viagra, but the reality of getting your ass beat is very different. It turns out that that shit hurts, and I would have just curled in to a ball of ouch if it weren’t for Lacey’s scream. The were-lion had her trapped; she was pressed against the wall with his arms pinned on either side of her head. His fingers were digging through the plaster. Love is a funny thing. We can know something in our heads but feel the complete opposite with our hearts and genitals. The latter inevitably wins, but the former is almost always right. So that’s how I found myself racing across the room and leaping onto the were-lion’s dirty, furry back with my arms wrapped around his forehead. I grabbed his arms, which had the same feel and success value as trying to uproot a skyscraper. But he did turn away from my fiancée. I squeezed his head tighter, hoping that I might be able to find a weak spot. I did not. He turned around and wrapped his arms around my waist, squeezing me tighter than I thought possible. Panic crept into my core as I tried and failed to breathe; the thing had pulled me against his torso so tightly that I my lungs couldn’t expand. I looked for Lacey, silently pleading that she would run. But she had only gotten closer. “Move, Joseph!” I would have told her that I couldn’t, but that would have involved moving. She rolled her eyes and batted my arm aside, which exposed his neck. Then she darted her hand forward, jamming her fingers into the bottom of his throat. We collapsed. I fell on my left side, which was still in pain from the earlier falling. Then the were-lion fell on my left side, which was still hurting from a half-second prior. Both of us rolled in agony as she stalked across the room to retrieve the gun. The were-lion recovered quickly. I did not. So I was helpless to stop him as he leapt to his feet and snarled at Lacey. She turned to face him just as he jumped the twenty feet between them, pulling the trigger and dropping him to the ground at her feet. For a moment, we shared eerie quiet. Then Frank opened the door and burst inside like a gelatinous bowling ball, yanking me to a standing position with a lighting storm of pain up and down my left side. “Dad!” Lacey snapped. “Be careful! You’ve put him through enough already!” “Nothin’ wrong with a little bruising after a good time, am I right, Joe?” he laughed, his red face and bristly white mustache inches from my cheek as he supported my weight. He wove laughing and wheezing together before settling on phlegmy coughs. “I…” I heaved, “feel that I am owed an explanation.” Lacey crossed her arms in frustration, still clutching the bloody pistol, and damn if I didn’t fall in love with her a little bit more in that moment. “Dad?” Frank propped me against the wall, where I remained in a leaning position. When he spoke, his voice was much softer. “Joe, we’ve been keeping a secret from you.” “You mean the lion?” “Yes, that’s what I’m talking about.” He smiled. “I was watching the whole time, you know. Let me tell you, Joe-Joe, a man is defined by what he does when he has to make a *choice.* You could have left Lacey and gone for the gun, like any sensible person, but that’s just not who you *are*.” His grin cracked wider. “A man who would abandon all sense to get closer to touching my daughter is the only type of man I want in this family.” He licked his lips and stroked my cheek. “DAD!” He stepped away, but the unpleasant chills remained. I gazed at Lacey. “Well that was fun. Didn’t you say something about leaving?” She stared back with the saddest look. “Joseph, I – I’m so sorry.” The chills settled in my colon. “Sorry about what happened, but happy that it’s over?” I asked in a hopeful voice. She walked to where I stood and rested her hand on my cheek. I liked that much better than her father’s sausage fingers. “It’s been a family secret for 110 years, Joseph. I’m so, so sorry that I couldn’t tell you earlier.” She and her father exchanged glances before turning back to me. “I hope you realize by now that this was test,” Lacey continued. “I could have killed him at any time. And even though you weren’t able to help me, we know now that you’re *willing*, which is the most important thing.” “A noble man can learn practicality, but it rarely flows the other way,” Frank added. I looked back and forth between them, trying to guess the worst thing they could possibly say. “There’s a problem,” Lacey explained. “Too many of them have broken through, and we can’t [keep them out on our own](https://www.facebook.com/P-F-McGrail-181784199029462/).” -------- [The breakthrough](https://redd.it/17c9f3h) ----------- [BD](https://www.reddit.com/r/ByfelsDisciple/) [W](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcn_pa1QfNMRzbTuJqXSoRQ) [E](https://www.reddit.com/r/TheCrypticCompendium/)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/177pvpz/meeting_my_inlaws_was_the_most_terrifying/

nosleep

ByfelsDisciple

The road to New Wilderness [Part 15]

[\[Part 14\]](https://www.reddit.com/user/RandomAppalachian468/comments/1778wpt/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_14/) [\[Part 16\]](https://www.reddit.com/user/RandomAppalachian468/comments/1799lkf/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_16/) Rough hands threw me down, and pain shot up my kneecaps. Dozens of crew members crowded around with a few subdued snickers at my discomfort. Now that I was face-to-face with them, I realized that they were almost all children, with a few older kids of perhaps 16 or 17 in the mix. Each wore the same strange blend of pirate attire and modern clothing, many too small for the items they chose. Some of the children couldn’t have been any older than ten or eleven, and yet they glared at me with primal distrust, their hands gripping sharp axes and gleaming handguns that were almost too big for them to hold. Painted designs adorned every face, odd zigzags and swirls that depicted ocean waves, burning ships, and stick people killing various monsters. Scars were the norm too, real scars, some of which looked like they’d just begun to heal, stitches and bandages on more than one skinny arm or leg. They shoved Chris to the deck beside me, Jamie on the other side of him, and a cold gun barrel pressed against the back of my head. Out on the water, the flames leapt higher as the boat that had saved our lives burned, and it threw a bright orange glow over the surrounding area with pitch black clouds of smoke roiling into the sky. I could taste the plastic-stench of burning fiberglass and wanted a drink of water more than anything. Coarse ropes were wound tight around my wrists, and I could only stare with desperate longing at my canteen, which lay with the rest of our gear at the captain’s feet. He stood with his back to us, one boot propped on the ship’s rail, watching our little sailboat sink into the waves with a final gasp of fire. As soon as it slipped beneath the waterline, he turned, and fixed us with a toothy, smug grin. “Always love watching the expensive ones burn. Thousands of dollars some rich fool paid, and I get to send her right to the bottom with naught but a match.” His crew chuckled along with him, hearty laughter that held no remorse for the implications of what that meant. I had a hard time convincing myself these were children, but some of the sword-points at my throat served as solid reminders. Unsure of what to do, or how to react, I snuck a sideways look at Jamie, who had her eyes fixed on our weapons stacked a few feet away. *Pirates. Somehow, we managed to run into a boat full of child-pirates. This whole place is like one bad fever dream.* Pacing up and down in front of us, the boy in the captain’s hat held up our driver’s licenses as if he were reading off a bingo card. “So, who do we have here? Miss Jamie Belladona Lansen. A fancy name for a fancy lass.” Jamie didn’t react, and I glimpsed her hands behind her back, the fingers trying to pick at the knots with stubborn patience. Unabashed by her silence, the captain tossed the ID card in Jamie’s face, and moved on, the strange Caribbean-style accent rolling off his tongue with effortless fluidity. “A Mister Christopher Rodrick Dekker, from Pennsylvania no less. How’s the lip?” Chris spat blood onto the deck, his lower lip split in two places. They’d been rough with Jamie and I, cuffs and kicks seeming to bring them joy, but for some reason the crew had taken special delight in beating Chris, no matter how much I’d pleaded with them to stop. He had a black eye, and blood ran from both nostrils over his upper lip, Chris’s already stained shirt spotted with droplets of fresh crimson. The captain paused, eyed the spit on the deck, and his smugness faded into a cold, hardened frown. “Still full of fire, are ya? We’ll sort that out, later. Who’s left?” His dark eyes fixed on me, and I gulped, a shiver moving down my spine. “One Miss Hannah Elizebeth Brun. My, my, a Kentucky girl. You’re far from home, aren’t ya lass?” *Do I answer? What will he do if I don’t? I don’t want them to hurt Jamie or Chris.* Dropping my gaze to the oaken plants under my knees, I cleared my throat. “W-We got lost.” Silence. Everyone stared at me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I’d screwed up. I wasn’t supposed to respond, it had been a trick question. Deep in the captain’s throat, a sound came, louder and louder by the second until he burst into unrestrained, boisterous laughter. The rest of the crew did the same, and I didn’t know whether to relax, or worry. “I’ll say you did.” The captain flicked my ID into the bridge of my nose and rested his hand on the hilt of his beautiful silver cutlass. “Do you know where you are, lass? You have the faintest clue?” I dug my teeth into my lower lip, desperate to distract myself from the hurricane of anxiety in my chest. “Maple Lake?” “Not anymore.” The captain drew himself up with pride and swept a grandiose arm at the rolling waves around his ship. “Behold, the sea of Sargosia, and the great pirate kingdom of [Captain Grapeshot Roberts.](https://www.reddit.com/user/RandomAppalachian468/comments/15acwnz/we_are_the_pirates_of_sunbright_orphanage_part_1/)” His crew erupted with cheers once more, their weapons raised in the air, each blade glinting in the firelight. Chris lifted his head and coughed. “We don’t mean any harm. If you let us go, we could—” *Whack.* With a harsh swing of his hand, Captain Roberts slapped Chris so hard across the face that some of his blood flecked onto my cheek. “Keep yer trap shut, ya scurvy landlubber! Ye’ll speak when I let ye. Boatswain Emelia!” A girl with a short brownish-blonde bun stepped from the crowd, two swords hanging from her belt, a black pistol with the word ‘Uzi’ on its receiver clasped in her hands. “Aye sir?” “Take them to the brig.” Captain Roberts waved a hand at us in haughty disgust. “And stow their tack in the hold. The graybacks will pay a handsome price for these three.” Delighted, the boatswain let slide a wicked smile, and yanked Jamie to her feet by her long blonde hair. “You heard the captain, on your feet!” *Graybacks? ELSAR. He’s going to sell us to ELSAR.* Four boys dragged Chris, and I yelped at another girl twisting her fingers in my hair to pull me along. Various members of the crew lashed out as we were paraded past them, some spitting in my face, others stomping on my feet, still more throwing sly punches at my ribs, arms, and face. Pain flared in every part of me, and I did my best not to show how much it hurt. Any sign of weakness or suffering only seemed to encourage them. Down a flight of steps, through a cramped deck with cannons on both sides of the aisle, and down into yet another deck we went, until at last, our captors dragged us into the cavernous ship’s hold. As my eyes adjusted, I gasped in wonder. The hold had been packed with all sorts of containers, from old-fashioned wooden crates to modern plastic coolers, trunks, chests, and suitcases. A pile of shoes as tall as I was stood in one corner, and heaps of clothes were tucked next to it. There were stacks of mismatched metal ammunition cans, and a round oil drum with farming tools sticking out the top. Blue plastic totes held drinking water, canned food had been stacked inside a ring of suitcases to keep them from rolling everywhere, and bags of wheat, potatoes, and corn were piled in the center around the support beams. It looked as if the pirates had scrounged everything they could get their hands on, including useless items like gaming consoles, televisions, and an elegant golden chandelier that had been hung from the ceiling right above a large, wrought-iron cage. At the sight of the rusted metal, the sinister red stains on the floor, and the iron manacles bolted to the wall of the brig, my insides churned. *How many people have they kept down here before us?* One-by-one, they pushed Jamie, Chris, and I into the cage, and untied our aching hands. Slamming the door shut, the boatswain locked it, and picked up a nearby bucket with a cruel grin on her sharp face. “One last thing . . .” She swung the wooden pail, and cold water splashed over the three of us, smelling of algae and mud. “Sleep tight.” The boatswain cooed with cruel sarcasm, and swaggered off to the stairwell, already barking orders to her subordinates. “Gunners, stow those guns, and make ready to sail for Golgotha Bay.” Shadows closed in, most of the light gone save for a single lantern hanging from a hook nearby, and I rubbed at the rope marks on my wrists, the skin red and tender. “You guys okay?” Jamie leaned against the wall and massaged her bad shoulder with a grimace. “I’ve been worse.” Chris sat on the floor, his head against the sloping hull that made the back wall of the cage and groaned. “It’s my fault. I should’ve made you leave while you had the chance.” “It’s like you said.” I squatted next to him and waited until his eyes opened to meet mine. “Either we all go home, or no one does.” “Looks like we’re going for no one does.” Jamie sighed and rubbed at her scalp with an irritated glower at the stairwell. “I swear, if I get the chance to get my hands on that pony-tail chick, I’m gonna ram those swords right up her—” “Hi.” Spinning on my heel, I peered into the gloom of the hold. *How hard did they punch me? I could have sworn I heard a little kid just now. Or did they leave someone to spy on us?* “Hello?” I rasped, my throat dry as a desert, and walked closer to grip the bars of our cage. “Who’s there?” Little feet padded over the floorboards, and from behind the pile of clothes, a girl emerged. She couldn’t have been very old, maybe eight at most, short and skinny, with her hair tied back in a frizzy brown braid behind her head. Unlike everyone else, she wore a simple green t-shirt with a shooting star emblazoned on the front, and a pair of ragged blue jeans on her legs. A tiny rope belt circled her waist, with a wooden toy sword stuck into it, it’s handle wrapped in purple tape with blue flowers on it. No shoes covered her feet, but the girl didn’t seem to mind, scampering over and around all the supplies with practiced ease. Her head tilted to one side in curiosity at my stare, and the girl waved with an innocent smile. “My name’s Tarren. What’s yours?’ Stunned, I forgot how to talk for a few moments, but managed to pat myself on the chest as if speaking a crude form of sign-language. “I-I’m Hannah. These are my friends, Jamie and Chris.” Tarren shuffled closer, and her eyes widened at seeing Jamie’s bleach-blonde hair. “Wow! You’re so pretty. Are you a princess?” Her expression softened at the unexpected praise, and Jamie moved closer to the bars to crouch lower. “Depends on who you ask. I like your braid. Did you do that?” Bringing one hand to her hair, Tarren shook her head, and glanced at the nearby stairs. “No. Sammy did it for me. He always braids my hair, so it won’t get caught in stuff.” I couldn’t detect any treachery or angst in the child, as if somehow she had escaped the cruelty that had swept through all the other children onboard this floating crime tenement. Little Tarren seemed like a regular eight-year-old, and something about the way she hopped from pile to pile was disarmingly cute. Smiling at her, I nodded at the toy sword on her hip. “Nice sword. Is purple your favorite color?” She beamed, and drew the wooden blade to swish at the air with it. “It is! Purple is the best color in the whole world. Sammy made it for me.” Chris inched off the wall, though I could tell he hurt enough that he didn’t want to move far. “Sammy sounds real nice. Who is he?” At that, Tarren frowned, and looked down at her bare toes. “He’s nice to me. But he’s really grumpy with everyone else. They have to do what he says, cause he’s the oldest, and he keeps us safe.” *She’s best friends with Captain Roberts?* I had a hard time picturing the arrogant kid who’d just had us beaten and thrown in a cell as a caring, protective type, especially where this little girl was concerned. My mind drifted to a few horrid possibilities, and I shuddered, praying his motivations weren’t that depraved. “You mean the captain? Captain Roberts?” I kept my smile on, but let her see how confused I was, hoping to win some sympathy. “How come he was so mean to us? Look at Chris, see how hurt he looks? Why would Sammy do that?” Tarren glanced at Chris’s bruised, bloody face, and her expression crumpled. “I’m sorry. Sammy says I’m not supposed to talk to bad people. He says anyone he puts in the box is a bad person, and they always lie.” “No, no, no.” Jamie shook her head, and pointed to Chris and I. “We’re not bad, honest. We got lost in the woods, and monsters chased us into the water. We’re from a big zoo a long way from here. Do you like animals?” Her cocoa brown eyes lit up, and Tarren bounced on her feet. “I love them! Elephants are my favorite. They have big feet and can stomp, stomp, stomp on anything. Someday, when I get big enough, Sammy is gonna let me steer the ship, all by myself, and I’ll go to the zoo. Then we can get strawberry ice cream with crunchy cones and there won’t be any monsters allowed.” *I hope so, kiddo. I hope you sail far away from this nightmare, and never come back. You don’t deserve this hell.* “Why is Sammy so nice to you?” I couldn’t help myself, the gnawing fear that this little girl might be just as much a prisoner as we were overriding my better judgment. “Does he ever hurt you? You can tell me.” Tarren blinked at me, confused, her sword frozen in the air mid-swipe. “No. Sammy’s my friend because of Grace. Grace wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. Grace was everyone’s friend.” Those last words came softer, sadder, and Tarren’s eyes drooped to make her appear older than she was. “Grace?” He mustered enough willpower to crawl closer to the bars, and Chris coughed on a throat that sounded dryer than mine. “Who’s she?” Heavy footsteps thudded somewhere overhead, and Tarren jumped, her eyes darting around the hold. “I gotta go. Don’t tell anyone I was here, okay? I don’t want to get in trouble.” Without another word, Tarren stuck her toy sword back into her rope belt and scampered off into another doorway opposite us. Disappointed, I let my hands slide from the cage bars, and turned back to the others. “Great. Now what do we do?” Jamie stared at the door Tarren had left through and picked at her thumbnail in thought. “Did you happen to count how many of them there were? I’d say there’s maybe thirty or so, tops.” “Still enough that we’re not getting out of here with our bare hands.” Chris grunted and poked at his bleeding face with tender fingers. “Little punks hit hard. Besides, there’s no telling if or when they’ll let us out of here. By the time we get a window to escape, we might be too dehydrated to run.” I scooted over to him and pulled at the corner of my shirt to help daub some of the blood away. “You sure you’re okay? They didn’t break anything?” He shook his head, but gestured to his ragged ear with a strained, cynical smile. “Figure I won’t win any beauty pageants though. How bad is it?” For a moment, I debated what to say, the torn skin swollen and red from where the Crawler had snagged him, with scabs forming under the bandage Jamie had wound over it. *I’m just glad you’re still breathing.* The thought sparked a memory in my mind, and I let myself drink in the sky-blue of his irises with my own. “Looks like an ear to me.” Chris smiled, his teeth starry white in the darkness, and that alone made the cramped cell a little less horrible. Jamie sat down on his right, I on Chris’s left, and we put our backs to the curved hull of the ship. With no other options left, we huddled close to each other to try and keep warm, as our soaked clothes pulled the heat from our limbs. The ship creaked and rocked in subtle motion with the waves, and with my ear against the hull, I could detect the rush of water that slid past. Muffled footsteps echoed from the crew above, and strange, eerie calls snaked through the water outside, dozens of unknown creatures following in the depths below. My mouth burned for water, but exhaustion dragged my eyelids down in a rare form of mercy. At some point in the long, arduous night, I woke to find my head resting on Chris’s shoulder. Just when I was about to straighten up in embarrassment, he laced his fingers into mine, and gave my palm a gentle squeeze. *It’s fine.* Lovely, silky-smooth warmth flowered in my chest, butterflies in my stomach, and in spite of the hopelessness of our situation, I put my head back down on his broad shoulder. Our hands stayed interlocked, and I let myself be swept away by unconsciousness, dreaming of Chris and I in a rowboat, adrift in an endless ocean of lemon-lime soda.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/177zt4y/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_15/

nosleep

RandomAppalachian468

The New Room

It was connected to our hallway by a single white door. There was fresh paint on the walls, still tacky to the touch. The thick carpet looked newly laid. Everything was a dull cream color, lit by a single bulb without a lampshade. No furniture of any kind, no windows either. It was quiet inside. Warm. A faint metallic smell, I thought. At a guess, the room was 15 feet to each side and 10 feet floor to ceiling. And of course, it wasn't there the day before. But … this is a mistake. I shouldn’t start here. It began before this. It began with the body. * Everything I’m going to tell you happened in July of last year. We moved into the apartment on the 1st, just my son and I. It was in a terrible part of the city, every street had abandoned buildings with boarded windows. Trash on the sidewalks, angry faces and sirens. You know the kind of place. I remember our first day there. I held my sons hand as we navigated around an unconscious drunk in the entrance then up the stone stairs which stank of vomit. "It's okay," I told him as we reached the first floor, feeling him pull himself closer to me, "it won't be forever." The whole building was falling apart. The doors were rotting with damp, locks broken, walls crumbling and marked with mold. The ground floor was deserted. I think it had been a furniture store but the sign was too faded to be certain. There were 3 more levels, two apartments on each. We would be alone on the first floor. The second floor had single men staying on either side. An unemployed slob directly above us and a skinny stoner who worked nights across from him. The top floor was also deserted and, judging by the dust on the steps, had been for a while. We reached the door of our new, hopefully temporary, home. The paint was flaking off and the lock had clearly been replaced more than once. I knocked and gave my son a smile as we waited. He held my hand tighter and tried to smile back. 6 years old already, I thought. Long skinny limbs and dusty blonde hair, quiet and shy around strangers. It felt like yesterday he was only learning to walk, stumbling into my arms. Our new landlord wrenched the door open, snapping me out of the memory. "Hey," he said, cigarette hanging from his mouth, "come on in." We followed into the poorly lit interior. Two bedrooms and a tiny bathroom connected to the living room by a narrow hallway. The kitchen, if you could call it that, was part of the living room. Underfoot had been stripped back to the floorboards, except the bathroom which had cracked and worn tiles. The ceilings were discolored by what I guessed were years of cigarette smoke. Furniture was broken or stained or both. Windows so dirty the sunlight had to fight its way in. "I'm Joseph and this is my son, Nathan." I said, looking around, "It was Kenny, wasn't it?" "Yeah." he stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray on the counter as he replied, "look man, let’s not screw around. This place is a wreck and I don’t have the cash to fix it. So for you it’ll be cheap as shit and available now. I’m guessing that’s exactly what you are after or you wouldn’t even be here. Right?” A rush of embarrassment struck me, my reply catching in my throat. My son beside me and this was the best I could offer him. It was my job to look after him and this is where we had ended up. "So if you want it," he continued, "it's yours. What you see is what you get. Don't fuck me around and I won't fuck you around. Paperwork is on the table." I didn't want to take it. I wanted to tell him no, that we could find somewhere better. That even on my shit salary I could find a way to do better for us. But it would have been a lie and we both knew it. So I signed. * Why were we there? How did we end up broke and desperate? It was the end of a 5 months battle to rebuild our lives with, clearly, limited success. Nathans mother Natalie, my ex-wife, had walked out on us and took every penny we had. I doubted we would ever see her again. In the ensuing turmoil I had lost my job and struggled to get another. We were forced to leave our home, sell everything we had left. So much of our lives had just vanished overnight. You wake up one morning and everything, everything has changed. In those two decades I was with Natalie I had pulled away from friends and family, deleted contacts and never took new ones. My grandparents had passed away, then my parents in the last few years. Trying to make our lives work day to day filled every waking moment. Gradually everyone I knew had gone from my life. Until it was only the 3 of us. Then she left. I tried to treat it as a clean slate, a fresh start for us both. It wasn't as easy as it sounds. You can leave people behind but the memories aren't so easy to shake. Natalie was always there in my head, old arguments rising up when I closed my eyes. She had a drink problem, had done for a long time. Did I help her enough? I would ask myself. Did I make it worse? When you are alone with your thoughts it’s easy to take on blame, take on responsibility for every problem. It's hard to be objective about these things, when you are in the thick of it. Was she abusive? Mentally, yes, no doubt. But I always felt I was as much to blame for accepting it. For trying to work around it instead of facing her down. Physically abusive? Only once. It isn't really worth mentioning. She used to tell me, when she was drunk, that I would be trapped in my dead end ways forever. That I had wasted both our lives. I didn't get angry. I had grown up with my fathers constant rages and was terrified by the thought of becoming like him. So I tried to be patient and understanding, not bitter or resentful. I failed. With her gone I found myself angrier than ever, cursing under my breath at memories, trying not to think of her at all. And that's where we were. * The problems with the neighbor directly above us started that week. I think it was the Tuesday night we first heard him, shouting and stamping his feet. The next night I saw the landlord coming into the building and heading up the stairs. A minute later a shouting match ensued in the corridor above. Eventually I heard the door close and Kenny leaving. The next night, 12.45 am, the screaming began. Doors being slammed and what sounded like every item of furniture being smashed. Then the running started, a relentless hammering of feet on the floorboards. For hours. It was honestly insane. There were only a couple of rooms, I thought, where the fuck was he running? Just lap after lap around the place? I might have let it go, for another day at least, just to avoid the inevitable confrontation and stress. But it woke Nathan. Having my son frightened awake was too much. I had picked up my phone to call the police when it finally stopped. Silence at last. The faint sounds of the city at night drifted back into hearing. Fuck it, I thought, it's 3am I'll deal with it in the morning. I told myself I would go to his door, give him a chance to explain and apologize. If not, fine, I'd call the police and tell the landlord. Unlikely they would act but what else could I do? The next morning I got Nathan ready for school then asked him to wait 5 minutes while I went upstairs. As I climbed the steps I heard a knock ahead of me. The landlord was already there, banging on the door and looking pissed. "This asshole wake you up too?" he hissed, "Got people phoning me at 2 in the fucking morning about him. I'm sick of his shit." "Yeah, he did." I replied. "Woke up my son." Kenny didn't actually seem to be listening to me. He started kicking the door. "Fuck him. I know he's in there." he muttered, pulling an assortment of keys from his jacket. In all honesty, I had started to feel a little uncomfortable. I was about to make my excuses and escape back downstairs when the door swung open and we both saw what was inside. The apartment was trashed. Every chair broken, the TV face down, every item pulled from drawers and cupboards and strewn across the wreckage. And, in the center of it all, what had once been the occupant. His bloated gray corpse lay on its side, one arm stretching towards us. There was a ring of stained carpet around him. He looked as if he had been dead for months. I saw a fly crawling on his lips and realized I was holding my breath. Then the smell struck us, pushed out by the summer heat. Nausea washed through me and I grabbed the doorframe to steady myself. I wasn't the only one, I realized, when Kenny threw up against the wall behind me. As I sucked in a breath I looked down and saw my foot inside the door, just an inch over the threshold. It felt ... wrong, for some reason. Hard to describe. I pulled it back like I had been stung. The burning acidic odor began to fill the hallway. "Not more of this shit." Kenny was saying under his breath, "I can't take any more of this. I'll be fucking finished. Ruined." He turned away and raised his phone to his ear. I heard him calling for police and ambulance but his voice sounded miles away. I went back downstairs to my son. More of this shit? I thought. What did he mean? I had to give a statement to the police, as basic as it was. It made Nate late for school but I was off that day so didn't miss work. The landlords words had stuck with me, so as soon as I was alone I searched for our building online. It didn't take long to find what I was looking for. The previous year a single mother and her daughter had gone missing from their apartment on the top floor. The guy who had lived opposite, an unemployed teacher, had been found unconscious in their home. He never confessed and they never found the bodies. I kept searching and found out he had died before the trial. Natural causes. It was a fucking nightmare. I should have checked this before we moved here, I thought. I had let Nathan down again, bringing him here. I had to do better. The photograph of the missing woman and her daughter in the article stared back at me. I'll find us somewhere else, I told myself. I'll get more shifts at work and I'll find us somewhere else. * I remember dinner with Nathan that night. Fish fingers and some tinned vegetables, not exactly gourmet cuisine but it was all we could afford. The conversation went like pretty much every night. "Can you try to close your mouth when your eating, Nate?" "Sorry." "I genuinely think I've told you a thousand times." "I'm sorry." "And stop saying you're sorry about every little thing, please." "I'm s ... okay." "I don't actually enjoy moaning at you, you know that? But there's only so many times I can ask." He stared down at his food in silence, on the edge of being upset. I should apologize, I thought. I was too hard on him. Always too hard on him. "Hey," I launched a forced smile across the table, "Just try your best, alright? Now, tell me about your day. Come on grumpy, don't go in a mood." "I'm not." "Okay, okay. You're not in a mood. What did you get up to today? How was school?" "Fine." "Just fine?" It was like drawing blood from a stone, always was. Was I like that at his age? I wondered. Worse, probably. "Dad?" "Yeah?" "Do you miss mum?" A pause. A breath. Think about how he feels, I told myself. Don’t be angry with him. If you get angry that’s your fault not the boys. And don’t lie to him, not ever. "Do you miss her?" I asked. "Yes." He was crying, silently. Hiding his face. My first reaction was, not this again, I can't handle this. Then I thought no, for fuck sake what is wrong with me? He is little boy crying because he misses his mother and I’m his dad, stop being such an asshole. He doesn't understand what she was like. He just misses her. I went around the table and pulled him to me in an awkward hug. He slumped into my arms. I remember thinking how small he seemed again, as if he was shrinking with every sob. "It's okay." I tried to sit him back on the chair as I spoke but his arms were tight around me, "I won't leave you, not ever. I promise." He didn't reply but the crying eased. It wasn't what he wanted to hear, I knew that. He wanted me to tell him his mother was coming back. But I couldn't lie. "Come on, crying won't help." I tried to sound as positive as I could, "Chin up, wipe your face." He rubbed his nose on his sleeve and I went back to my seat as I spoke. Change the subject, I thought. "You hardly told me anything about school today. What was happening?" It took a minute to get him talking but he told me a little about his friends and teacher. We were just finishing up when we were interrupted by noise from the floor above. Voices, something heavy being shifted. Police, I guessed, or whoever dealt with removing the body. "What happened upstairs?" he asked. "Oh, grownup stuff." "Huh?" "Nothing, Nate. Please stop saying huh. You heard me, I know you did." "Sorry." "Nate ... forget it. It's ... just finish your dinner." I was too impatient with him and I hated myself for it. All the problems and stresses of my life, he didn't cause any of them. If anything he was the only bright spot I had. Being tired and irritable was no excuse. After dinner, as I stood washing the dishes, I could hear him playing in his room. I should go in, I thought, spend some real time with him. Play with his toys together. A board game. Fucking hide and seek, anything. I'll regret not doing it when I'm an old man. A few more years and he won't want to anymore, won't want to play pretend or have me read to him. He will have new friends and thousand other things I can't be part of. I wanted to go to him, I did. But I was exhausted. I was always exhausted. Trying to get him to sleep in his own room for a full night took years, I told myself, so I should savor a bit of peace and quiet. Nathan always hated being away from me and his mother, even if it was only a different room. Just hated being alone. He's a people person I thought, always will be. Nothing like his dad. My eyes were heavy, body aching. Even with every window open the summer heat was draining. The TV chattered away and I sunk onto the couch. Told myself he was fine on his own. * The sounds of my son getting ready for school woke me. I hardly remembered putting him to bed never mind going to my own. Weak sunlight filtered through the dirty windows as I reached for my phone to check the time. "Dad?" I heard him push my door open and peek inside. "Yeah, I'm up. Just coming." "Dad." "I said I'm coming." "There's a new door." I sat up, trying to clear my head. What was he talking about? I pulled on a shirt and stepped out into the hall where he was standing. There was, indeed, a new door. "See." he said. I didn't know what to say. Was this some kind of joke? How could I have missed that? I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Impossible. Nate watched me as I reached out for the handle and pulled the door open. There it was. The new room. I stepped inside and turned a slow circle, mind working overtime and coming up with nothing. I still had to get Nate to school, then myself to work. I remember I checked the time again on my phone and noticed there was no reception in there, which only added to the strangeness. When we left I stopped in front of our building and looked up at our floor. It didn't even look as if another room would fit ... but in all honesty it was hard to tell. It rolled about in the back of my mind all day at work. Should I tell someone? Who? The landlord? Christ almighty, that wasn't an appealing conversation. When we had taken the place it had said 2 bedrooms, hadn't it? Kenny was not the type of guy to miss charging for an extra room. Had he made a mistake? Had we both? Then how did Nate miss it too? I was doubting myself, I realized. I had been doing it for 20 years it was hard to stop. Maybe someone snuck in and added another room. Ha. Ridiculous. Really though, what could I do? * "Where did it come from?" Nate asked that night, leaning inside the doorway. I pulled him back and closed it, then felt stupid for doing so. It was an empty room, what was I pulling him back from? "We must have just missed it." I replied, "Weird, eh?" He didn't look convinced. "We were both tired from everything that's been happening lately. Lots of stuff going on. Guess we just never noticed." He looked from me to the door and back. "Really?" "Yes Nathan, really." As I watched him finish his meal that night my mind drifted back to those news stories. That teacher from the top floor. The missing woman and her daughter. I had fucked up moving there and I knew it. The sudden blare of a car horn and shouting from outside snapped me out of it. A smash of glass followed and the sounds of a scuffle. I went over and closed the window. I need to get Nate away from here, I thought. It was incredibly warm that night, the worst of the summer. A stifling, oppressive heat and humidity. Even the usual noises of the city were dampened, energy sucked from the streets. I was drifting in and out of sleep. Nights like that always seem darker, the silence heavier. Nate had fallen asleep quickly in his room. I was going to stay up but the heat had drained me. A shaft of moonlight cutting across my bedroom was the only light. A door slammed, the shock of the sound running through the house. I snapped awake and up in bed, heart racing. Peered into the dark of the hallway. Silence. My bedroom door was still open. Always was in case Nate shouted me. I slid out of bed and put on the lights. There hadn't been another sound since the slam. I went to Nates room and softly opened it. He was still fast asleep, his blue dinosaur nightlight illuminating his bed. I looked around his room. What was I expecting to find? I hadn't imagined it, had I? I went to the front door. It was locked and the chain was on, just like I had left it. Had it been a dream? There was one other door, of course. I turned to the new room. I had closed that, hadn't I? The silence seemed to press on me as I stood there, sweat trickling down my back. I snatched at the handle and opened it. Nothing. It was dark and empty inside. Stupid. I closed it tight, annoyed at my own nerves. A grown man afraid of a bump in the night? Idiot. It had been the wind, I thought. All the windows were open, weren't they? There wasn’t much of a breeze but still. That tinny smell was in the hall now, I thought. Or was I imagining that too? I rechecked every door was closed tight, looked in every corner in every room again. Then I lay back in bed, wide awake. It took a few more hours of fighting the heat before I got back to sleep. * The next day was Saturday, when Nathan went to visit the only family we still had. Natalies parents. Sadly, they had never cared much for either of us. "They aren't always nice to me." he sounded worried, as if he might get in trouble for saying it. "I know Nate. I'm sorry but we don't have anyone else. It's hard to explain, but we need to have somewhere you can go so I can work. And it’s always good to have people you can be with in case anything happens to me. In case I can't look after you." "Why would that happen?" I shouldn't have said that, I thought. "It won't son. It won't happen. We just have to be careful. Be prepared. Just in case, you know?" "Can't I just stay with you today?" "No, you can't stay with me. Come on Nathan, we talked about this. I'm sorry, I know it isn't much fun but it's only for the day." "Please dad, can't ..." "No means no." My voice was too harsh. Again. He looked like he was going to cry but he held it back, trying to hide the waver in his voice. "Okay." Everything was hard now, I thought. No easy days. No easy decisions. The room kept edging its way into my mind as we were getting ready. Just another thing to worry about. Something kept drawing me eyes back to it, making me look, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. An urge to open the door again. To step inside. I glanced down the hallway. The door was lying open. Only an inch or so, but it was open. "Nathan, did you open that door?" "Huh?" "You heard me. Did you open that door?" "No." he sounded scared just to answer me. I felt a rush of guilt. Was I really that bad to him? To scare him so much that he was afraid to answer a simple question? I didn't shout at him. Only once or twice when he done something dangerous. He shouldn't ever be scared, not of me. Not in his own home. "Okay son, it's okay. Go finish getting ready please." I waited till he was out of sight then walked slowly down to the new door and peered inside. The room seemed ... bigger. I stared, my chest tightening. It was a different shape. I wasn't imagining it. There was an indent on the far wall, about a foot deep, that hadn't been there before. Like the beginnings of a new corridor. It was impossible. I stepped in, disbelieving. There was a sound now on the edge of my hearing but I couldn't make it out. Like an echo of a voice. A womans voice. When I closed my eyes it sounded like Natalies voice. No, I told myself. Just my imagination, filling the silence with my own thoughts. The stress was making me paranoid. Stupid stupid stupid. I should have left her. I should have left her a decade earlier. But I held out hope she would change, didn’t I? Be the girl I fell in love with again. It would have been worth it, you know. Two decades of shit would have been worth it, for just a few hours with that woman I first met. I can forgive her for everything she done to me, I can. But I can't forgive her for destroying that girl I loved. Burning her away through selfishness and bitterness and hate. I wish I could stop thinking about her. "Dad?" "Huh? Oh, I'm sorry Nate. I got distracted." "We're going to be late." "We're not going to be late Nathan, stop worrying so much." I took one last look around the beige walls. "Come on." * We got back late that night, Nate falling asleep in my arms as I carried him upstairs. Despite everything that was going on, when I sat us both down on the couch I drifted off as well. It was still over 30 degrees, seeming like it would never break. I don't know what woke me. Suddenly I was wide awake and alert, as if I had never slept at all. In the hallway I saw the door of the new room swing slowly open. There was no sound. I froze in place and held my breath. A flickering shadow was cast into the hall then the light went out. The sounds of movement reached me. Someone was in there. It wasn't my imagination. It wasn't stress. I know what I saw, what I heard. I glanced at Nate. He was still fast asleep and unmoved. I got up as quietly as I could, slipping my shoes off to quiet my steps. There was a kitchen knife lying out on the drying board. I picked it up, trying to keep my eyes on the door. The lights flickered again. I gripped the knife as I advanced down the hallway. Someone was in there. I reached the doorway and inched forward. I looked inside. There was nothing there. No-one. Only the room. But it had changed again. There was a new corridor, at least 20 feet long, running out far beyond where the building would stop. It was impossible. That word again. Impossible. I moved inside as the light clicked on and off, knife still in my hand. I saw a mark on the wall. A long unbroken line maybe 4 feet off the ground. It hadn't been there before, I was certain of it. I knelt down alongside, ran my finger across the surface. It looked like crayon. The tinny smell was in the air again. My eyes were pulled to the end of the corridor. A feeling of being watched. A voice on the edge of hearing. The lights flickered. Off. On. Something in the air. I don't know how to explain it properly, being inside that room. I was afraid, I’m not ashamed to admit it. But there was something more. An urge to keep moving forward, to follow the corridor. Pushed by invisible hands, into the dark. I stepped forward. "Dad?" "Jesus christ!" His voice had scared the shit out of me. I kept the knife out of sight as I turned, slipping it inside my shirt so he couldn't see. "Dad, are you okay?" I realized I was shaking like a leaf, soaked in sweat. "Were you in here Nathan? Did you wake up since we came home?" "Hu – I mean no. No." he sounded confused. "Nate. This is important, ok. Tell me the truth." "I am, Dad. What’s wrong?" "Nothing. Nothing, it's fine. You don't .... I'm sorry, you didn't do anything wrong." "Okay." "Come here." I snatched him up in a hug and carried him out of the room, tickling him as we went until he started laughing. I went back as soon as he was in the living room and closed the door. After a seconds thought I pulled a chair out of the kitchen and braced it against the handle. I checked the front door and windows were locked yet again, checked every room and cupboard and behind every door was empty. I felt like an idiot, like I was cracking up but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep otherwise. "Hey Nate, you want to sleep in the big bed tonight? Watch a movie with me?" I didn't want him out of my sight. "Yeah!" He fell asleep beside me in half an hour, still exhausted. I lay there wide awake, must have been half the night. Worrying about my own mental state, if I'm honest. Is this what it felt like to lose your grip on sanity? I thought. When stress and anxiety become too much? Experiencing things you know are impossible. It couldn't be real, could it? Then what did that mean? It couldn’t all be in my mind if Nate had seen it too and we weren’t both crazy. I had been in there, touched the walls. If I asked someone else to come in and look and it was all in my imagination ... I didn't know. I should see a doctor, I told myself. Stay calm. Make an appointment in the morning. Nate too, just to be safe. And get out of there. * The familiar sounds of the city woke me in the morning. Traffic, voices. Like any another day. I swung out of bed and left Nate sleeping. We were leaving today, I told myself. Right now. I dug our cases out of the cupboard and started packing. I had left the kitchen chair propped against the door of the room. I checked on Nate every few minutes but he had hardly moved. I was about half way through when I realised some things were missing. Nathans football. A couple of my books. It didn't make any sense. I remembered unpacking them and we hadn't taken them out of the house. I had almost given up searching for them when my eyes fell back on that door. No, I thought. The chair was still tight under the handle. Nothing had moved, not a millimeter. I took a breath. I had to know. One last look before we left this place forever. I slid the chair away and opened the door one last time. There they were. The football, my books, some tins from the kitchen I hadn't noticed were missing. The crayon marks were still on the walls. And there was a new door, at the end of the corridor. I began to panic. I tried not to, I tried, but it was too much. Someone was fucking with me I thought, or I had lost my mind. Either way it wasn't safe for my son. We had to get out. "Nathan!" I shouted. "Nat -" The door slammed shut behind me. I’m haunted by these moments, you know. No matter how many times I go over them, no matter how much I pray. It never changes and it never hurts less. I wish I could go back and do it again. I done everything wrong. Everything. I wrenched the door open and ran to my bedroom for my son but he was gone. It all becomes a blur. Adrenaline, fear, confusion. I ran through the apartment, shouting his name, knocking over furniture. The front door was still locked and the chain was still on. I saw the new door lying open and rushed back to it. He must be there, I thought. Got past me somehow. It didn't make sense, any of it. I can see that now. I charged through and there was only another corridor, another door, all as featureless as the ones before. "Nathan!" I ran forward, reckless, foolish. The next door opened with a push and I was through again. Another corridor, a dozen more doors, one already a crack open. “Nathan!” I ran through it, heard another slam closed behind me. It is like trying to remember a nightmare. Disjointed images and sounds, that metallic smell, echoes rolling back through dark corridors. The flickering lights. Her voice in my head. Natalies voice. You've wasted your life, she said. I had believed her when she said it. I couldn’t admit to myself then but I had. It hurt so much more because I believed her. You're no good for Nate, she told me the night before she left. You'll let him down. You won’t keep him safe. You're not even his real father. She probably didn't even remember saying it. Too drunk to know. But it doesn’t matter. It doesn't matter if it was true or not. It doesn't. "Nathan!" I saw more crayon marks on the walls, long lines leading through doorways. A series of giant stairwells plunging down into the gray below. A thousand other rooms. I was delirious, rambling, I remember my own voice coming out in a frenzied stream. I remember the crayon line stopping, standing over a womans dead body. There were toys beside her, a drawing book and a stuffed bear. Words on the walls I can't remember. I ran on. "Nate." That feeling of being watched. Something there. Coming closer, following. Times passes and I was still running but from something, not searching. Doors slamming behind me, endless rooms and hallways. For how long I don't know. The lights flashed on and off. I heard a voice in the distance, different this time. Then I saw it. Nathans football. I saw it lying on the floor through the next doorway. I stumbled forward and crashed through to the other side. The door slammed behind me. I was back in our apartment, in the hallway. But I was alone. My son was gone. I turned to go back and there was only a blank wall where the door had been. No sign that it had ever existed. "No." I heard my own voice, weak, sick, desperate. "No." My legs buckled beneath me. The world was spinning, vision blurred and then was gone. * It's been a year since Nathan vanished. I woke up in hospital the next day. I tried to get up as soon as I was conscious, to get away, get back to the apartment. To find my son. They wouldn't let me leave, the police or the doctors. They thought I hurt him. That I hurt Nate. The other neighbor upstairs phoned the police, said he heard crashes and screaming from our apartment. When the police broke down the door they found me unconscious in the hallway. Months of questions, lawyers, doctors. I told them everything I could without sounding crazy. We were getting ready to move and he disappeared. I panicked when I couldn't find him and passed out. I didn't know what else to tell them. I don't know where he is, I told them. I don’t know where he is. I kept the flat, kept everything as it was. I sleep in the hall, walk the building at night, listening for his voice. I see him every time I close my eyes. He might still be here somewhere. He must be. And I can’t ever leave here if there is a chance, no matter how small. I tell myself I will find him. That he is lost in those rooms like I was, needing me. I tell myself I can get back to him, I have to. Maybe he will find his own way out, he could do it. He was a clever boy, always clever, he could do it. I have to get back there. I can’t live like this any longer, knowing I left him alone. He must be so scared. I always told him I would keep him safe. I told him I would be there for him if he needed me, his whole life, no matter what. I am breaking my promises and I am not there. He could be calling for me now, calling for me to help him. Every morning I wake I think, this is the day it will all have been a dream. I'll run to his room and snatch him out of his bed and tell him I love him, tell him how sorry I am for every time I wasn't good enough. I'll hold him like I did in those minutes after he was born, when he met my eyes and we were the only people in the world. I will. Just let this be a dream. Let me wake up. I can’t leave him alone.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/177nxl3/the_new_room/

nosleep

dmackay1981

You opened the door

What is your earliest memory? Mine has to be the hours and hours I spent sitting in front of my cousin’s old TV, playing Super Mario 64 on his old Nintendo 64. He was kind. Gentle. In a world that was too big and too loud for me, my cousin showed me kindness by letting me play on his most precious possession. I was a timid child, too small for my own good, too shy to ever speak up. Born as the only girl on my side of the family, I was always an outsider in the group of boys that made up the large group of cousins, but it was okay. My favourite cousin and my older brothers looked out for me. So I grew up, loving video games because they always reminded me of those blissful hours in which the world around me became so silent, so small compared to the cosmos that unfolded before me on the small TV screen. What happened to change everything? I assume you could say that life happened. We grew up. My cousin was older than me, it was time for him to live his own life. I was alone again. No more time spent in front of his old console, on that old rug that smelled like dust and comfort. Maybe it was pity, maybe it was kindness. My brother gifted me his old PlayStation2 and one of these massive old TVs. The ones that looked like squares. It could even play VHS tapes. Should I have stuck with the old copies of Disney movies my mother had kept for us all those years? There is something almost ironic about a child that was chronically afraid of the world around her and even more afraid of the dark, asking - no - begging her parents for a copy of Silent Hill. The movie and the games. Something about the nightmarish otherworld drew me in ever since I first read about it in an old and used copy of a video game magazine. I would never forget the angry, piercing eyes of Eileen’s head just staring down Henry who looked so small compared to the angry abomination. It was not exactly the same as the other games that drew me in with their almost Christian ideas. The idea of eternal punishment. Punishment for what? The minds of children will forever be a strange place to me and mine would always be the biggest enigma. Maybe it was comforting to think that there was something bigger, scarier than all those thoughts that were haunting me during the day and even more so during the night. Suddenly I had a weapon that could shoot and kill the vampires that forced me under the covers of my childhood bed countless nights. Thinking back now, I would laugh, if it weren’t for the vivid memory of paralysing fear, the thick scent of stale air I kept breathing in and out under the blanket, certain of death. Nobody could ever explain to me why I was so haunted all my life. I had a good childhood, albeit my family being poor. So everything I had was precious to me, just like the old gaming console. I am pretty sure I could have broken my copies of the Silent Hill games if it weren’t for the sudden loss in interest in video games when the world opened itself up to me. Suddenly I found friends, it felt like I belonged somewhere. But old habits die hard and so did the draw to the morbid. And there I found myself. It started in the summer of last year, during the summer break of University there was not much I could or wanted to do in the burning heat of the warmest season in New England. Lounging around on my large bed in my small flat - I did not want to stay in a dorm at university, so I worked as many odd jobs as I could to afford both university and this small kingdom I called my own - and I watched a let’s play on Youtube. I used to watch them a lot when I was younger, remembering the release of Alan Wake and my instant peak in curiosity was met with the bitter reality of my family being too poor to afford a new gaming system, let alone to buy me a copy of the game. In my young mind, it was the end of the world, until I discovered the kind stranger that uploaded his let’s play of the game on YouTube. It felt like an entirely new world was opened up to me through the kindness of a person I would never meet. For days, I could not think of anything but him releasing a new video, commenting excitedly under every new part, discussing my theories with other fans. Soon, the kind stranger became something akin to a friend to me. He reminded me of my cousin. Throughout the years, I became a firm part of his online community. Thanks to him, my interest in video games was sparked once more. This passion for video games and literature somehow landed me a permanent seat in the cool, wooden chairs of my university. I hardly had time to watch his new let’s plays in between my working hours, classes and time spent studying or researching. So during my summer break, I wanted to make good on the promise I had given my old friend years ago; the promise that I would always support him and stay with him through all his journeys through these fictional lands. But I was picky. Not just any of his videos would do, not when my mind was pulled into every direction and my ability to focus had been chipped and gnawed through by hours and hours of class presentations and introductions to different genres of literature. “Hm… looks good,” I remember mumbling to myself as I found the thumbnail of what looked like an Eastern European indie horror game. There had been a wave of games like that, produced by Polish, Serbian and Russian developers in their own homes instead of big studios. There had been a certain aesthetic so deeply inspired by their country's rich folklore, the scars that the USSR had left on the psyche, economy and wellbeing of the countries it had enveloped. I am not a religious person. But there was a certain draw to the way that Russian artists drew iconographic masterpieces of Saints I would never dare naming as they were perfect strangers to me. Still, I was beyond captivated by the beauty of their anguish, the horror of their martyrdom, the pain that simply existing seemed to etch so deep into their emaciated features. Of course, not all of the artworks looked like that - but you should know me by now. I could never find beauty or comfort in the same things that you might consider beautiful. The strange yearning for the macabre was etched just as deep into my bones as the martyr’s eternal suffering for their faith was etched into theirs. If you would ask me now what the game's name was, I could not tell you. No matter how hard I tried to recall it, it felt like a dream you just woke up from one that you so desperately tried to cling onto but couldn't. Why was the name the one thing that alluded me when I perfectly remember every other detail? I wish I could tell you. The premise was simple. The world had ended. There were only a few humans left. In an unnamed city, a young girl and her companion robot fight for their survival on the daily. The city is covered in a thick layer of ice, snow and grime. Brutalist buildings reach far into the sky, sometimes you come across something that looks like a cottage, perfectly out of place in the real world, but somehow just right in this imaginary one. I hear my friend’s voice echo through the speakers of my phone, he muses about the artstyle, the beautiful hand drawn backgrounds. It has amazing details considering that it was developed by a small team of indie game developers. What kind of story are they trying to tell? I can’t tell from the first few minutes of the game. There is no definite explanation as to why the world had ended. Why it had taken this new form that I could not make any sense of yet. My professors loved praising me for my eye for detail, but some warned me that my urge to understand everything so deeply, consumed too much of my energy, too many of my thoughts. There was no grandiose warning about it one day consuming my life, but I wish there would have been. Maybe it would have saved me from this fate. I watched him navigate the small blonde girl through the ruins of the city, wading through ruins and trash, I watched her mumble about her hunger. A quick glance on my bedside table left me with the choice between a lukewarm diet coke and some stale cookies or hours and hours of labour in the kitchen. The cookies weren’t half as bad, my eyes were still fixed on the small screen on my phone, all I cared about was getting something into my belly. “I found something to eat!” There was a moment of relief in my friend’s voice, the chat cheering him on. Until we understood what those words meant. In the garbage of the city, there had been packages of food that looked perfectly edible. Bottles of soda, packaged cookies and canned foods. If the world ended, even the pickiest eater had to make peace with eating things they normally wouldn’t, right? But my mouth fell open when I watched the protagonist lick on a corpse's skin, her little teeth hardly able to break it, so she just licked the same spot until it broke. Her small mouth feasting on the corpse of a grown man like it was the most normal thing in the world. Cannibalism is not the most shocking thing to a horror fan. No. What made skin crawl was the fact that I could feel her lick the skin as if it was my own mouth that latched onto the man’s body. I felt my teeth close around the loose layer of skin, it never tasted like anything but I felt myself eat the man. His headless corpse staring down on me. Stale diet coke definitely tasted better than my first attempt at consuming human flesh. No, no it must have been the awful heat. I laid back down, the stream continued as normal. So the little girl was a cannibal. At least one part of her story opened up to me now. Apparently I had missed a few sections of game play, because suddenly my friend was running, he ran away from a man in a hazmat suit. The companion robot was broken for some reason, left behind. A dog happily wagged its tail at the man in the starkly yellow plastic suit. For a moment, a feeling of frenzied anxiety seemed to take over the chat as they begged and pleaded for the dog to run away. But it happily wagged its tail, even when the man held up two different ribbons. He tied one around the robot, whatever that meant it couldn't be good, and the second one around the dog. For a few moments stunned silence kept us all on the edge of our seats, what were we anticipating? That the dog would die? Did he mark it like the robot? But they wore two different ribbons. The man simply walked away, the dog following him. Slowly, my friend exhaled. “Well, at least the puppy is safe -“ His joy was cut short when she appeared on screen. To this day, I can’t tell you the entity's name. She looked strange, completely out of place in this apocalyptic landscape. A tall, hulking figure of a woman. She slowly walked towards the little girl, her back hunched, her pale white skin hanging loosely on her body that was draped into a black mourning shroud. Her face looked mask-like, her lips always slightly parted, her black hair tied into a neat bun, but the space in which her eyes should have been were nothing but black holes. “Fuck - fuck, if she gets me it’s game over.” So he began running. But she always caught up with him, it was a simple game over. I found myself sitting up straight, why the hell was he always running in the same direction? He knew the outcome already. Especially when there was a clearly marked door in safe distance to the woman, he just needed to open it. Of course he was a better gamer than I could ever be, but I found myself typing an irritated comment, maybe I was being mean - but I could regret that later. Frustrated, I tossed my phone to the side and stared at the ceiling. If I had spare cash to afford more than a shitty laptop that could hardly run Stardew Valley on a good day, I would play the game myself. Open the door and get to safety. But life just did not work like that. So I closed my eyes and tried to sleep off my strange irritation. Strangely, sleep came easy. I’m not good with sleep, but I felt a sense of relief when I drifted off so easily I didn’t even realise I was asleep. Maybe that’s why the dream felt so real. I was in that unnamed city, looking around, the pixel graphics were non-existent. This was my new reality and I knew what to do. Look for clues that reveal the truth to me. About who I am, why I am here, what happened to this town I call home. Much of the first minutes played out like my friend’s gameplay footage, only that I did not perceive it as a game or a memory I retained from someone else walking this path in a body that is not my own. Instead, I found a severed arm, but I left it be. I had already eaten, I had other things to do. The man in the yellow hazmat suit never came to stalk me either. How strange. But I was free to roam, a sense of hot curiosity began burning away every rational thought I might have had. I rushed down the alleyway I fantasised about running down so many times before, only to find that the door was locked, it was blocked by trash, this perfectly pristine garbage. A memory began to fill my mind as I climbed up on the trash to reach the roof of the building, granting me access to a window and hopefully the inside of this building. A safety I was seeking for no reason at all. Nobody was chasing me in this dream world. In this fantasy someone else had created based on the pain of generations of people before me. Pain of people that were so far removed from me. As I climbed, I could hear a woman’s voice, I felt her embrace me. My aunt loved other women, she raised me like her own, she was one of the best people I had ever known. But what had happened to her? I needed to dig deeper to find out. Almost a little too effortlessly, I reached the roof, the window was slightly ajar, but as expected, trash blocked the entry to the house. It was a swift movement. I just needed to pull on one piece to make it spill. Images flooded my mind, other parts of the city suddenly freed up or blocked off by the garbage I moved but I didn’t care. I needed to get into this building and I don’t even know why. Faintly, the sound of Christmas carols reached my ears. How strange. They still celebrated Christmas even in a place like this? Not that it mattered. I pushed the window open and forced my way inside the house, I jumped and landed in the living room of the building. It must have been left in its current state since the 80s. Looking around, I found a surprisingly small pile of trash, but also a TV set mounted into one of these big shelves that are built into the wall. The old TV turned on on its own. Strange footage poured off the screen and into my mind, nobody was speaking but in my mind everything began to make sense. The soldiers. My aunt. It felt like I just needed to watch the footage a little longer for it to make sense, for me to find out the truth that I had been yearning for as if this was truly who I was. As if this was my life and not the quiet time at university in New England. But then it started. Should I have willed myself to wake up? I don’t know. I don’t know if I could have and I don’t know what would have happened if I had never woken up. To the right side of the TV set was a door, it began rattling but I couldn’t bring myself to look away from the screen. I needed to know more. I needed to know everything. But before the truth was revealed to me, the truth that I needed more than rationality that was clinging to my survival instincts, the door flew open. The stalking figure of the old woman floated into the room. I had convinced myself it would be the man in the yellow hazmat suit, I could deal with him. But it was that old woman. Her mouth suddenly forming a wide grin, something I had never seen her do before, she began to speak and it felt as if the words were directly drilling into my ears, my brain. “You opened the door, didn’t you? You opened the door, you wanted this. You opened the door.” It didn’t feel like she was talking to the player character in a game, she was talking to me. Cold fear gripped me, suddenly my survival instincts decided to get the better of me and I started running. But her words had burrowed into my ears, into my flesh, into my bones. “You wanted this. You opened the door.” I wanted to scream but it felt like I had lost the ability to make any sound, the city was unforgiving but it began to fade around me. A fade to black. It should have been a good sign, right? But the strange thing was, that even though I was aware that I was dreaming, that this couldn’t be real, I could watch and feel myself close a door that doesn’t exist. Has anyone ever told you to try and imagine an apple in your mind? I am not someone who can imagine a perfectly pristine apple, it is more vague than that, it is a faint idea. So was the door that I violently shut while the woman’s voice rang in my head like a chant, a taunt, “You opened the door, you opened the door, you opened the door.” It was an accusation, it was the truth, it was - I woke up startled at the sound of my phone ringing. When I answered the call, a wave of relief washed over me when I heard my mother’s voice. “I just wanted to remind you that you have an appointment in the morning.” God bless this woman. Unlike me, she believes in things like fate, God and demons. Evil spirits. I think she warded off something horrible because the longer the woman taunted me, the less afraid I felt and the angrier I got. White hot rage nearly made me rip open the door I was so desperate to close to fight back against whatever entity was mocking me. That should have been the end of it. But it wasn’t. I never checked the comments on my friend’s YouTube video. There was no reason for me to further engage with the game. Curiosity almost got the better of me, I would not let it happen again. Yes, I know it must sound strange, especially after I said I don’t believe in evil spirits that are out to get me, but the dream left me shaken. Months passed by without any big events, no big revelations. All of my attention was focused where it should have always gone to - my family, my real life friends, university and work. Until one day I found myself taking a different footpath back from work to my little flat. It was snowing. The first snow that year. I wanted to enjoy it, I hate summer heat but I love the winter. The way even a thin layer of snow completely changes the world around me. It was only now that I realised how eerily similar this path looked to that in the video game. Of course without the dead body parts and piles of garbage but the buildings, the way that the streets are worn by years of use. It was identical. Even the door that I could not open when I first tried. It was the same building, beckoning me. Suddenly, it felt like my life in New England wasn’t my own. The truth was calling to me. I opened the door.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/177t57g/you_opened_the_door/

nosleep

10millionotters

My Mom Refuses To Celebrate Halloween. Now I Know Why.

"Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves." -Matthew 7:15 I think a lot about that saying a lot around this time of year. Halloween used to be my favorite holiday. Scary stories, orange and yellow leaves. Purple lights, and hot apple cider. Candy and chilling winds. Jack-o-lanterns, and pumpkin spice everything. It's the one time of year you can dress up and hide who you are underneath masks and makeup. Be whatever you want, and no one knows who you are. I've loved Halloween since I was a kid. As far back as I can remember, my Dad always made such a big deal about the holiday. My mother, not so much. They divorced when I was young, and I've always lived between two households. Typically, I'd be at my Dad's during the weekends, and my Mom's on the weekdays. I'd always pray that Halloween would fall on a weekend so I could be at my Dad's house when it happened. He'd always invite my friends over for a big Halloween party. He'd dress up in a scary costume, hand out fun treats, and take me trick-or-treating. My mom, on the other hand, well, she despises the holiday. She's very religious. She's always reading the Bible, lecturing me about this and that. She's got it in her head that Halloween is an "evil" holiday. She won't have anything to do with it. Not even so much as a harvest festival alternative that some of the local churches around us hold. In fact, she doesn't even go to the churches in our town, and we have a ton of them. She never put up Jack-o-lanterns, and not even a hint of fall decor. Not even a "Be Thankful" sign for the Autumn season or thanksgiving. My mom is nice enough, she's never been too pushy about her beliefs on me. In fact, she celebrates every other holiday just fine. Christmas, Thanksgiving. She'll even have a beer or two on St. Patrick's Day. But she absolutely has never budged when it comes to Halloween. In fact, she'd make me go to bed really early on Halloween every time I happened to be with her. We've gotten into some very nasty fights over it. I'd be crying and begging her to let me stay up and go trick-or-treating, but she'd always respond that Halloween was evil, and that in her house she'd respect the Lord. Then she'd tell me I would just have to get used to it. I once told her I hated her because of it, and stormed off to my room, slamming the door. I regret doing that now. I now know she was only trying to protect me. My mom lives several miles away from my Dad in a small rural town with about 3,000 people living there. My Dad lives in the city, so when I had Halloween at his place I'd bring back a huge haul of candy, because we had so many neighbors. Everyone got into the holiday spirit on my Dad's street. In my Mom's neighborhood, everyone there did too. So the stark difference between my Mom and the town, and Mom and my Dad has always been really apparent to me. And up until last year, I just had never understood why my Mom was such a prude. When I mentioned it to my Dad, and asked him to make my Mom relent, he'd always say "Your Mom has to do things her way, and I'll do things my way. You just have to respect her wishes buddy". If you look at the calendar, you'll notice Halloween falls on weekdays way more than it falls on Weekends. So sadly I haven't had the experience of being with my Dad on Halloween as much as I'd like. I always noticed how much my Mom seemed to dread the holiday. She'd be extra into her Bible. Praying. Sometimes she'd come up to me and put her hand on me, closing her eyes in prayer, begging God to protect me. Halloween has always been the same at her house. We'd eat dinner around 4:00pm, then she'd usher me off to bed. She wouldn't tolerate me stepping out of my room. And she'd yell at me to sleep if she heard me staying up. I'd always lay in bed, unhappy and frustrated. I'd hear just outside my door, saying the same prayers over and over again. You might be asking why I didn't just sneak out. Well, I would have, except my Mom always had the odd habit of boarding up all of our windows, and even our front and back doors. She'd put up a big sign on the front door that said: "Trick Or Treaters Not Welcome. At This House We Serve Jesus". She'd hang up crosses and sprinkle the whole house with Holy Water. Even line the front entrance with salt. I always figured my mom was just extra paranoid about things or had gotten it into her head from some televangelist that she needed to be extra scared of spirits and whatnot on Halloween. I've never stayed up very late on Halloween night at my mom's house. With nothing to do but lay in bed, as she usually took all of my toys or devices away, I'd usually fall asleep surprisingly easily. I'd dream about what Halloween could have been, and try to get over it the next morning on November 1st. It wasn't until last year I finally found out WHY my Mom is so scared of Halloween. Last year, Halloween fell on a Monday. That year was especially hard for me to accept that I'd be spending yet another fun Halloween night sleeping in early, especially since the year before Halloween had fallen on a Sunday, and my Dad had pulled out all the stops. I dreaded having to spend another year in bed early when for the last two years I had been spoiled with Halloween fun. This year was bit different. I was seventeen now, and I felt I could get way with staying up a bit longer, and at the very least being allowed to watch a scary movie. I got to my Mom's house earlier that day, as my Dad had gotten me out of high school early. When I arrived the house was drab and normal, no decor, nothing except for wood beams in piles ready to be nailed up. I hugged my Dad goodbye, and he told me to behave myself and just do as my Mom said, however upset or unhappy it might make me. Great. Another Halloween puritanically wasted. I went up the steps to our house, said Hi to my mom, and hugged her. I asked my mom if this year could be different. If maybe I could stay up and watch scary movies. Maybe have some candy. She flat out refused. "Absolutely not. Halloween is an evil holiday. You will not have anything to do with it at my house, God help me." I roared with irritation. So unfair. I stomped inside. "You're so fucking ridiculous Mom!" I shouted out. I heard her yell about taking the Lord's name in vain. I didn't care. I was so sick of her religious strictness. I needed to get out of the house for a bit. I walked up to the porch where she was standing, apologized for cussing and asked if I could head down to the store in town for some snacks before we had our early dinner and early bedtime. She sighed. "Son, I know you don't understand why I do these things. I know Halloween means so much to you. But it's evil son. The devil hides in the fun things. Halloween is evil. I wish I could get you to understand." She said it would be ok, but to be home no later than 3:00pm. She was dead serious. I didn't wanna found out the fit my Mom would have if I didn't stick to her curfew. I walked off towards the main area of town with all the small businesses. My mom luckily didn't live too far from the general store, only 4 or 5 blocks away. I got to the store, and was looking at some of the Hot Cheetos, when a priest came up to me. I glanced over, and he said hello. "Hi there. Need anything?" I asked. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I noticed you weren't dressed up." the priest said, his hands clasped in a pious manner. "I was supposing perhaps you weren't participating in any of the festivities this evening. I was wondering if perhaps you would like to attend my church's Harvest Festival party. There'll be candy, and even a costume party." I already knew what my Mom would say if I asked, so I gently sighed and responded. "That's really nice of you, but I actually have other plans tonight sadly. I'm sorry." The priest smiled and said that was quite alright. He bid me goodbye, and told me he wished the Lord would bless me. He walked off, and I took my chips to the register. I walked back home and sulked. My mom wouldn't have ever allowed it, even if it was at a church. She'd say that it was just another form of Halloween, and that it was evil, and that it was out of the question. I couldn't wait to turn eighteen and be out on my own. Make my own plans. Celebrate Halloween the way I wanted to. I just didn't understand. To me, Halloween wasn't evil, or even unchristian for that matter. Sure, it dealt with death and ghosts and ghouls, but it was mostly about fun for me. Costumes, candy, may be even some sexy times or partying. It wasn't about anything bad. In some ways, Halloween helped us laugh at death. It was the one time of year death wasn't so scary, so horrible. Wasn't there a saying my mom once told me, something like "Oh Death, where is your victory? Oh Death, where is your sting?" If anything, Halloween perhaps could help Christians live out that reality. But my mom would never understand that. I went up to the house, trudged in, and me and ate my snacks while watching my Mom start to nail the doors and windows shut. There was no more going out tonight. She was soon done, and the doors and windows were locked. Her sign fluttering on the door, making knocking sounds every time the wind came and hit the wood. Then, she made a quick pasta dinner. I ate it in silence, making it known my displeasure. My mother ate in silence as well, looking at the boarded windows nervously. Then, she checked her watch. "It's 4:00pm son. Finish up, and get to bed." I sighed. I ate as slowly as I could. Every passing moment my mother seemed to get more and more nervous. I had a few bites left of my meal, but my mom suddenly shot up, and shooed me away from the table. "That's enough for now. You need to get to your room. Go!" I rolled my eyes and walked to my room. My mom closed the door behind me. I looked around my room. I looked at my bedroom window, boarded up with wood. I could see between the slits in the wood. I could see the neighbor's house, and the orange and red trees. The sun was still up. I sighed yet again, filled with annoyance. I plopped down on my bed. My mom had taken my phone. There was no TV, no books. Nothing to do but try to get to sleep. I stared up at the ceiling in my room. I heard my mother walk up outside my bedroom door, starting to pray. "The blood of Jesus protect us tonight. Father God, protect us tonight. Amen." I just couldn't stand it anymore. I furrowed my brow in anger. I was seventeen, damn it. I wasn't following my Mom's lame rules anymore. I made up my mind. Tonight, whether she liked it or not, I was getting up out of my room and doing something Halloween related. I was gonna watch Child's Play. Or Scream. If I couldn't leave the house, I could at least watch the kids trick or treating nearby. I decided I'd wait until after my Mom was done praying and had gone to bed herself to sneak out of my room. I listened to her praying. "Jesus have mercy. Lord, protect us from evil. Lead us not into temptation. But deliver us." I lay there, listening to her pray for about an hour. I glanced over at my alarm clock. It was about 6pm by the time she finally finished. I heard her walk off and gently close her bedroom door. I couldn't get out of bed just yet. I needed to wait until I was sure she was asleep. I sat up in bed and looked out of the cracks in between the boards. The sun was rapidly going down. Yet oddly, there weren't any trick or treaters out quite yet. I waited, watching the sky grow ever darker, until I was sure my mom was asleep. It was about 7:45pm. The sun was mostly down at this point, only a slight yellowish glow remained on the horizon. I went up to my bedroom door. I slowly, ever so slowly, turned the knob. I managed to turn it without so much as a sound, and then I gently pulled the door open. It made a slight squeak, and I winced as it did so. Nothing. My mom hadn't heard. Thank God. I pulled open even more, just enough so I could squeeze my body through and I could get out into the hallway. I did so, and I glanced down the hall at my mom's room. I could hear her gently snoring. I tiptoed to the living room. I went to the couch, and and sat down, picking up the remote. I turned on the lamp on the side table near me, and selected a streaming service on the TV. Scream, here I come. I turned the volume down as low as I could. I looked up at the clock on the side of the living room wall. It had just turned 8:00. Some preview for a show I didn't care about was playing when suddenly the power went out. I sat up, confused. The lamp was out. I tried to turn it on again, but nothing. I glanced outside between the gaps in the boards on the window. The streetlights were out. Even the lights from the Halloween decor of our neighbors was dark. I watched as the sky grew darker and darker. Perhaps there had been a power surge. But the weather wasn't bad. It had been a perfect, cloudless day. I sat there, perplexed. Then I finally saw something. It was a gentle orange glow. At first, I didn't see what it was. But was I kept looking, I eventually saw a small group of children, dressed in Halloween costumes. They held torches in their hands. They had potato sacks to collect candy clutched at their sides. They walked up the street, slowly like zombies. Then another group came. Each of the kids had a mask on. Some were clowns. Some were animals. Some were skulls, or demon faces. But not a single child had their face exposed. Group after group came down the street, silent as the grave. Then I saw more groups. This time, they were made up of what I could only assume were adults. They were far taller and fatter in many cases. Some were holding the hands of little ones. They had masks on too. On had a cartoon cat's mask on. Another had a Guy Fawk's mask. Yet another had what I could only describe as a voodoo mask. They all held torches, lighting their way as the sky finally became devoid of sunlight and pitch black. The torches cast shadows on the neighborhood and the houses. The haunting orange glow reflecting and amplified by the orange of the leaves on the trees and ground. Many people clearly were traveling as families. I saw groups of five, sometimes ten. Silently they went up the street. Then I saw one man some up. He had a special mask on. It was a large black mask, with three skulls, presumably human, in a triangle formation on the black background, two on the bottom, one skull on top. He held a torch, and an enormous knife, with a red hilt. He stopped in the middle of the street, and shouted something. Whatever he said, it made the groups of people stop and turn around to face him. He used the hand that had the knife and yelled something, pointing it towards the houses around him. Then, he walked on. He was out of sight, and I wanted a better look at what was going on. I crawled up to the window, and pressed my eye against the glass, looking through the gaps in the boards. I could see much more now. The little children had circled back around. They went up to the houses nearby, and knocked on the doors. They then stood there waiting for someone to answer. I watched as one of my neighbors, a sweet blond-haired lady opened the door with a smile, holding an orange bowl of snickers. she was about to say something and comment on the kid's costumes, but looked at the kids in wonder. They held their torches, and stood there, not even saying the customary "Trick or Treat". The lady laughed nervously and asked if they wanted some candy. "Boy, you guys are really scary...you definitely win that award," she commented, trying to hand one of the kids with a green witch's mask a candy bar. The kid didn't accept it, but instead pointed at her. One of the adults came up to the porch, briskly walking over. The woman's eyes widened and she screamed as the adult roughly took her by arms and dragged her to the street. Her husband came out yelling at the adult to let her go, but three other masked adults came out and wrestled him to the ground. They then tied up both people, kicking and screaming. I couldn't believe my eyes. Some of my neighbors looked outside of their doors to see what was happening, only for them to be snatched up next. The children led the way as the adults brought crying and screaming people down the street. I watched on of my neighbor's houses open up, only for a few people I presumed were my neighbors to walk out with masks on, holding their kids hands behind them, also in masks, to join in the activity. The same thing happened over and over again. The kids would go up to a door, they'd knock and someone would answer. Then they'd be attacked, tied up and dragged away to join others. I watched as they headed towards the direction of the main area of town, where all the shops and businesses were at. I listened as people begged to be let go, men cursing and demanding the reason for all of this. A woman screamed as a masked man got up close to her, grabbed her by the hair and stroked her face with a gloved hand. I watched as more groups of masked people came, dragging teenagers and children with them, on a cart. They were all crammed into a cage, some crying, others yelling similar things to the adults. I looked at their wrists and saw they had orange bands. I couldn't read what was on them, but the same symbol as the one found outside on the local catholic church was on them. More teenagers came, literally by the cartful, crammed into tiny cages with at least a dozen others. I heard wailing and screaming. I watched as they all headed to the main part of town. Then I watched as the children went out into the woods with their parents, leaving the masses of people, about 200 of them, sitting in the street to be watched by the skull man with the knife, and a few other large masked men with other weapons and torches. The struggled against their ties, and the caged youth tried futilely to move. I shuddered as I watched orange lights dive in and out of the trees. The flames on their torches dimmed and flickered in the slight wind outside, making their disappearing sparks look like flashing Halloween lights and will-o-the-wisps. It was pitch black outside except for the flames. The power was still not back on. As much as I wanted to crawl back into bed, I couldn't tear myself away from the strange events happening outside. I had to keep watching. The children came out of the woods, dragging large branches of wood behind them. They began to pile them up in the center of town, until they had built a huge pile of them. A mountain of wood was formed, and then all of the masked people got into a large group in front of the skull man with the knife. The man held his hand up with the knife, and handed his torch to a man with a goat mask on. There were so many of them. The skull man spoke. "People! It is that time of year again! All Hallow's Eve is upon us once more. Let us remember our commitments! Our Father awaits us. They await us. Let us celebrate!" My eyes widened, and my heart jumped into my throat upon hearing his voice. His voice was the same as the priest's I had spoken to earlier that day at the grocery store. A cheer rang out from the masked crowd, who clapped their hands. The priest in the skull mask held out his hand, and a man in a gorilla mask brought the blond neighbor of mine up in front of him. Her face was stained with mascara as she cried, begging, asking what was happening, and why they were doing this. The skull masked man held her by her hair, and brought her throat up to his knife. The children in mask went to the front of the crowd, and waited expectantly. The priest made a shout, and slit the blonde's throat. Immediately blood gushed forth, and her screams turned into gurgling. Her warm blood splattered on the ground, and a man in a Micheal Meyer's mask came up with a golden chalice that had a pentagram on it to collect the blood. Then the man in the skull mask took his knife and began to hack away at the blonde's body. The little kids held out their potato sacks, and the priest dropped pieces of her body into each of them. A bloody lock of hair went into the bag of a girl with a Princess Peach mask. A finger tip into the bag of a boy with a Optimus Prime mask. One girl with a bunny mask on cried with glee as an eyeball was tossed casually into her bag. I watched helpless as she was dolled out like some kind of sick treat to the children. I watched as they danced gleefully around the screaming cages of teenagers. The adults went to the great pile of wood and began to pour gasoline on it. One adult in a Ironman mask lit the pile and it burst into flames as a great bonfire. The light from the fire was intense, and the air shimmered with heat. My eyes began to well up with tears at the atrocity being committed in front of me. The adults started to drag their tied up victims towards the fire. Then they lifted them up, and tossed them alive onto the blazing pyre. I closed my eyes and covered my ears as they screamed in agony. I started to hear a chant being sung. I peeked up to watch from my window. The goblet of blood was being passed around to the people, who lifted there masks to reveal their lips, and to take a sip of the freshly shed blood. The chanting got louder, with every person they threw into the flames. They repeated it over and over again. I can still remember the words. "Ohbscuhra patrees, exsepta nostroque innosense sacrifikio. Sangwees ihstay nohbees deht pohtestahtehm. Pahtair mendacee dah nohbees dehseedereeah cohrdees nohstrees. Dah nohbees ohmnehs gentehs dohmeenaree. In tentateeohnehm pohteeoos indook nohs." They chanted it over and over again. I wasn't sure how they were even able to chant loud enough to drown out the sounds of screaming people being burned alive. The children danced around the bonfire, like demonic imps. I watched as an adult in a medieval plague mask began to look towards my house from far away. He walked away from the group towards my house. I watched as he got closer. Four blocks away. Three blocks away. Two blocks away. Soon, he was but a hundred feet from my yard. I wanted to hid. I wanted to duck. But I frozen still in horror. Suddenly, someone's hand grabbed me from behind. I let out a scream that was quickly covered by a hand, which silenced me. I looked back. It was my mother. She ducked us both down beneath the window. She went up to my ear and whispered, "What on earth are you doing out of bed!?" We both looked up as a shadowy figure got up to the window. The figure stood there, illuminated from behind by the yellow-orange of the town bonfire. We sat there frozen, not saying a word, until the figure slowly moved away from the window. We sat there a while longer until we were sure he was gone. "My son," my mother whispered, "Get to bed. And do not get out. Do not look out of the windows. Lay there until sunrise." I got up and did as I was told. I shut my door and got into bed. I tried to ignore the orange glow shining in from my window. I tried to ignore the chants. They had gotten louder. I tried to ignore it when I heard metal being dragged, and teenagers screaming blood murder as they were tossed on the fire, trapped together in their metal cage. I tried not to listen as their flesh crackled and popped, and as their screams turned into whimpers. I tried to ingnore the laughter of the children most of all. I listened as another person had their throat slit. As adults under mask sipped their blood like wine. Like some kind of demented communion. I listened as women moaned and men slammed into them, like the applause of a concert. Their screams of pleasure echoed by the screams of agony. I listened as my mother stood outside my room praying fervently. "The blood of Jesus cover us. The blood of Jesus cover us." I listened as the chants outside turned into one repeated phrase repeated over and over again. "Ahvay sahtahnahs. Ahvay sahtahnahs." I could hear both the young and old chant it. It lasted all night. The same chant over and over again. More screams. More giggling. More sounds of bodies cut up and given to the children as treats. "Ahvay sahtahnahs. Ahvay satahnahs." Somehow, at some point, I fell asleep. I awoke to my mother on my bed stroking my face. I asked her if what I saw last night as real. She said yes. "Halloween is an evil holiday." I asked many questions. Why did she live here? Why didn't she call the cops? Why did this happen? My mom explained that the town was ran by a Satanic cult. She couldn't be sure who was or wasn't apart of it. She had tried to call the cops one year, but without power, they couldn't be reached. And when she reported it to the local police, they had taken her report but had done nothing about it. When she tried another department further away, they didn't believe her report. She had tried to get proof, but no one was willing to see it. They all just thought she was a crazy Christian lady. "Why didn't you warn the neighbors?" I asked, crying. "I did. They didn't believe me." she said, tears flowing from her own eyes. "I knew you'd never believe me either if I had told you. Besides, who wants to tell their child something so terrible?" I asked why she didn't keep me with my father every Halloween. She replied that she had to have me on weekends, per court order. That she had told my Dad once but he called her liar. He was too interested in having his own fun every few years, and he insisted I be with her. That she was making it all up. "No one thinks this stuff can happen." she said, "And no one believes people when they see it firsthand." I asked her why she had never moved far from the town to get away. 'For one, I'm sure they'd stop me." she said, "And secondly, I cannot abandon the people of this town who don't know. I must warn them. I must do the work of the Lord." I then asked why they didn't come for us. "They would in a heartbeat. But they for some reason will only come for you if you invite them in. If you leave your doors and windows unlocked. If you talk to them. If they see you. I make it clear I'm not celebrating and that they can't come in. And I board the windows so they won't break in. They seem to hate anything to do with the cross. And they aren't too fond of salt." I went out that day after we had taken down the boards. I looked over at the town center. There was no evidence at all of the horrors of last night. They must have cleaned it all up somehow. I would've thought it all a bad nightmare if it wasn't for the distinct char on the asphalt, barely distinguishable unless you knew where to look. And the scraps of potato sack in the bushes around town. I'm eighteen this year, a high school senior. This year Halloween falls on a Tuesday, so I'll be with my Mom again. I told my Dad I didn't wanna go. I told him about what I had seen last year. He yelled at me and called me a liar. He doesn't believe me either. No one new to the town does. We managed to get a few more people to board up their places. But it's not enough to save them all. That's my story. I'm partially writing it to warn all of you reading. Halloween for most people is an innocent, fun, spooky holiday. For some, it's a pagan holiday used to celebrate the dead, and to connect to the spirit realm. To a few, it's simply a harvest festival. For others, it's an evil, evil holiday. And you never know who considers it so. You never know who underneath those innocent masks is in fact, a ravenous wolf seeking to make you the next sacrifice to untold, incomprehensible, hellish evils. I've got to get going. I gotta help my mother pick up some new wooden boards at Home Depot. Halloween is coming in a week or two, and it's going to be here soon. One last thing before I go. I have a request to ask those of you who are reading. Pray for us. Pray that we will make it through another year of Halloween. ​ ​ ​ ​

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/177c7ev/my_mom_refuses_to_celebrate_halloween_now_i_know/

nosleep

Evilkenevil77

While Running Away My Dog Found A Terrifying Secret. I'm not my parents Son.

I have been noticing strange behavior in my family the last few days. They seem to be constantly avoiding me. Like I was some sort of plague. So lately I've been finding comfort in my dog Charley. Charley is a pureblooded German Shepherd. My dad says they can hunt anything once you train them too. But lately our favorite game to play is Hide and Seek. Charley is amazing when it comes to hide and seek. I guess it's how I mom says that a dogs hearing is 10x better than human ears. I'm getting ahead of myself. So my family made a rule to never invite friends over at the house. I made countless arguments over how not fair that is because my older sister Sarah got to bring her friends. But whenever she does I wasn't aloud to come out of my room until they leave. I've always thought it was strange especially since I was homeschooled. My parents said I have a brain that needs to be nurtered and public schools don't have the resources. My sister Sarah she's a jerk. Well sometimes when she ain't within earshot I would mumble "bitch" under my breath. She would spend every waking minute torturing me. My parents also said that's brothers and sisters do. Charley… I really love Charley. He's my only friend that i have. We would sometimes go for long walks in the woods surrounding our house. Sometimes we would eventually pass hikers who would give us the odd look as something that didn't belong. I guess that makes since as my father didn't want to live near urban civilization. One day i got real mad at my parents. I guess it was because of all the isolation that got to me. "Why am i the only one here that doesn't get to have friends over?!" My parents tried their best to calm me down but i wouldn't listen. "No! I'm not staying here any longer!" I yelled as I ran out the front door before slamming it. I quickly got on my bike and raced off with Charley who was right behind me barking. I wasn't going far. I mean I'm only a kid, teenager even, where was I going to go Detroit? No i have a better place in mind. As I race along with Charley on my bike we finally made it to a cave that my parents don't know about. I even made sure they didn't based on the trails we would hike. The cave is about as tall as a truck. With a solid rock formation around it. I don't mind how cold it is. The dripping of the cold water actually relaxes me. As i was sitting there with Charley who was looking around the cave I heard a voice. It sounded dry and raspy. "Hey… hey kid, help". Sounded like the person wanted to shout it but couldn't. I nearly jumped out of my seat as i quickly looked around for the voice. That's when i noticed how Charley was reacting. Whenever someone would speak with ill intention Charley would bark at them. But at this moment Charley was sniffing the ground heading towards the voice. So I took a chance with it evwethogh I was scared. "Where are you?! Speak again that way I know where you are!" But no more sound ever came up. Charley started whimpering ao i took this as a sign to get the heck out of dodge. I got back on my bike and raced towards back to my house. As soon as I got home my parents were upset with me for being gone this long but were glad that i was alright. The next day they eventually agreed to let me do more things outside like bringing my friends from the park over. I still couldn't get that voice from the cave out of my head though. So the next day me and Charley went back to the cave. I yelled and yelled for the voice to speak again but came up with nothing. As I was about to leave the cave Charley brought me a torn piece of paper from the cave. I grabbed it and opened my eyes on shock. On the front page it said, Anniversary of the death of hiker who got lost in cave. The thing that shocked me was that the dead hiker had [MY](https://reddit.com/r/lingeringshadows/s/EOc5LeuIKQ) last name.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/177sbsb/while_running_away_my_dog_found_a_terrifying/

nosleep

DBZKING13

They're always shooting fireworks

My neighbors and I moved in at the same time. Same month, same week, same street. We lived across from one another in identical, mirrored houses. I didn’t know a lot about them, but I’d seen them move around their property a couple of times. They were already a family, having two kids just about to enter their teens, while June and I was still expecting our first. Their mailbox revealed their name to be the Watersons. We thought it’d be nice to live in a neighborhood with other families. And, to be honest, we didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter. My company transfer had been sudden, and it was either quit or move. Since I couldn’t afford to be out of work those first months of parenthood, June and I decided it’d be best to follow along. Besides, we both had relatives not too far from the area. The move itself was rather painless, and we got June’s work-from-home office set up in a matter of days. I barely even got a weekend to settle before I had to be in on the following Monday. Being a manager for a small packaging plant might not sound like a lot, but considering the scale of specialized orders we were receiving at that time, I figure it’d take at least three guys to replace me at the helm. All in all – we were busy. All of us. ​ But at the end of that first month, the Watersons did something strange. They started shooting *fireworks*. ​ At first it was a fun surprise. June’s favorite holiday is Independence Day, so she has this fascination with anything bright and shiny in the sky. So when the Watersons started popping off white sky flowers in cascading shades of cyan, June just dropped her jaw and cheered. Those first few weeks, we got the sense that, one way or another, things were just gonna work out. We had a moment on the (albeit cramped) patio, enjoying the night sky together. Then life just went on as it should for a while. The orders at work slowed to a normal pace, June kept her appointments with the obstetrician, and life kept grinding forward. Slowly the boxes were unpacked, and little post-its were put up on the fridge. Paintings started to get crooked, and the hallway rug inched ever and ever further towards the front door. Baby stuff littered the hallways, anticipating our bundle of love's arrival. After about a month at the new house, I remember having a late dinner with June. I’d had a long day with a bit of unpaid overtime, and she'd been kind enough to keep it all warm for me. As we sat down to eat, there was a flash outside, followed by a thundering boom. We realized that, once again, the Watersons were shooting fireworks. Apparently, this was a *monthly* thing. That might be a problem. ​ Our baby girl Janine was born on the September 29. June was a goddamn superhero through it all. I was there for it, even though June insisted that she was fine. Hell, she even asked me to put in an extra shift to keep myself busy. Of course I didn’t, but that gives you an idea of just how pragmatic this blessing of a woman really is. We brought Janine home and got into a new routine. Parents to a newborn are rarely the most cheerful of people, and I can’t pretend it was all sunshine and roses, but we managed pretty well – all things considering. While a shock at first, our new life came creeping up on us in a way we never could’ve prepared for. But through it all, Janine was the sweetest thing. Probably the least fuzzy baby I’ve ever met – all smiles and kisses. The only thing she didn’t like was loud noises, which we realized one morning when a sleep deprived June dropped a box of cutlery across the kitchen floor. Took us a solid half hour just to calm the girl down. ​ Then there were the Watersons. The *fucking* Watersons. ​ It’s like they were just waiting for us to need peace and quiet before they showed their true colors. It started an ordinary Saturday, about 1 am. I woke from the flash before I even heard the bang. This massive rocket popping off right above our house, bathing the entire street in an eerie blue light. It was loud enough to rattle the windows, sending Janine into a panicked cry. I sat with her most of that night, telling her everything was gonna be okay, while June desperately tried to catch a few hours of half-sleep. Janine was terrified, and she was vocal about letting me know so. I remember sitting by the kitchen window, bottle-feeding her, staring daggers at the Waterfords across the street. I could see the father of the family out on the lawn, looking up, as if considering if he ought to fire another. Thankfully, he didn’t. Not that night, at least. ​ Fireworks kept going off in the middle of the night about once every three days after that. I tried going over to talk to them, but none of them seemed to be around during the day – not even the kids. I remember waiting by the door for their car to pull up the driveway, ready to confront them, but I seemed to have chronically bad timing. Then, one night, they blasted off again. This time, June was handling Janine, and I went straight for the door. I was out in a t-shirt and my tighty-whities, slipping on a pair of sneakers halfway out the door. ​ That was the first time I got a good look at Irvin Waterson – the head of the family. The man was in his mid-50’s, was about 6’5, and had a shiny bald head. His eyes were sunken and tired, and he had this kind of slouching face – like an old dog. He had a sort of pallor to his skin, like an old ham. I didn't care though. “What the fuck are you doing?!” I yelled. “What the fuck is *wrong* with you?!” He just looked at me like he didn’t understand what the hell kind of language I was speaking. When I pointed at him, he visibly recoiled. “Don’t you fucking walk away!” I demanded. “Not *one more fucking time*, or I’m calling the police!” He gave me this… look. Like a frightened animal. And as I stepped closer, he burst into a sprint -heading straight for the door. Before I even got halfway across the street, I could hear bolts and chains dragged across the inside of his front door. I got up to it and pounded on it. I screamed at him, demanding an answer. And yet, nothing. Not a word. Not a sound. ​ I’d cooled off in the morning, but June hadn’t. She called not only the police, but the HOA. I urged her on, but we soon realized it was an exercise in futility. Not only was there no rule about fireworks in the local bylaws, but it was a point of pride just how open the neighborhood ruleset was. If anything, we suspected that this might’ve been the reason the Watersons moved there in the first place. Hell, even the police gave us the cold shoulder; saying it wouldn’t be worth their time to come knocking when there was nothing to enforce. It started to make sense how we got that place so cheap. It wasn’t really meant for families, it seemed. We’d just been tricked by seeing what we thought were another normal family across the street. We tried to confront the Watersons a couple more times. June tried once, only to see their young boys scurry back inside the house. I tried to knock on the door again but didn’t get any kind of response. It’s like they were scared of us, but not like a normal kind of scared – an almost animal-like kind of scared. How these people could drive a car was a mystery. ​ But the fireworks continued. A few days might pass, but they always came back. Janine did not want to get used to it, and I couldn’t blame her. Not only was it startling, but it felt *sinister*. Like there was a genuine ill-will behind it; something meant to *harm*. I always got the sense that there was a reverence to it, from the Watersons. I could see them bending down on one knee, gently placing the rocket; like a Tibetan monk lighting incense. There was a ceremony to it. I got a better look at the rest of the Watersons too. Aileen Waterson, the mother, didn’t seem a day over 30 – but she looked like she’d never cut her hair once in her life. It was almost dragged across the ground, tapping against her heels as she walked. She had the same kind of sickly pallor as her husband, and the same sunken eyes. I never saw her blink – not even once. Their kids could’ve been twins, if not for one being slightly taller than the other. Same physique, same sickly pallor, and the same drooping faces as their father. The closest description I can manage is that they were, in a sense, *ghoulish*. ​ About a week passed, and the fireworks just seemed to grow more intense. I remember getting Janine her bottle in the kitchen when I noticed June sneaking by the window – looking at something across the street. I checked it out, spotting Aileen out and about in their front garden. June just shook her head, whispering. “Who the hell starts planting things mid-October?” “The Watersons, it seems, “I sighed. “Probably getting their kid a new set of drums, too.” “You shut that cursed mouth. They might hear you.” But of course, they didn’t. If anything, Aileen wouldn’t have noticed the entire world collapsing around her. If anything, she seemed to be perfectly at peace with her hands deep in the soil – picking out rocks and roots, and planting something deep below. ​ Then, it stopped. Several days passed, and there were no fireworks. We thought it was finally over. But apparently, they’d just gotten started. ​ I remember the turning point. I was up with Janine when I saw the whole Waterson clan sneak out of the front door. They all stopped to look at their little garden, and one by one they started to do this weird howling noise. Sort of a screech; like the mix of a wounded pig and a panting dog. All of them, in unison, cackling. Janine didn’t even cry. She just looked out the window, just as confused as I was. I saw Irvin pulling up handfuls of grass from his front yard, throwing it in the air in celebration. The boys were dancing around the car, hand in hand. Aileen was just on her knees – openly weeping. I thought about filming it, but Janine had fallen back asleep, and I didn’t wanna risk waking her. It was such a bizarre sight – and I couldn’t even see what the fuzz was about. ​ The next morning, as they scurried back inside, June and I went out to see what they were cheering about. Looking at their front garden, there was no obvious response. All I saw were some kind of sprouting seeds. They had these large oval-shaped leaves, with just a hint of blue to them. June stepped right up on their yard and took a closer look. I didn’t have the time to protest, as I was carrying Janine, who’d decided that my beard was her new favorite plaything. “Looks like sunflowers,” said June. “My mom grew these once.” “Sunflowers?” “Yeah,” June nodded. “Pretty sure.” There was nothing more to it. A bunch of pale sunflowers, and that was all it took to send this family into a frenzy. It started to dawn on us that there was something deeply wrong here – maybe even dangerous. ​ June gave the authorities another shot the next day. She tried calling CPS, but she couldn’t make a good enough argument for someone to check in on the boys. They were already registered as home-schooled, and there was nothing inherently wrong with cheering in the front yard or shooting fireworks. June almost cried of frustration, having been bounced between one number to the next for over 40 minutes – only to be told there was nothing to do. At that point, we had no idea what to do. We were genuinely worried about the Watersons, and it seemed like no one shared that feeling. I talked to a few people at work about it, but none of them had anything to say. And why would they? They’d never even seen the Watersons, let alone lived across the street from them. But the most telling cue was Janine. She had gone from quiet and cuddly to fearful and anxious seemingly overnight. It got to the point where we had to go to the doctor to make sure it wasn’t something physically wrong, but of course there wasn’t. It was only a matter of regular rest and food, it seemed. Which wasn’t as simple as it sounded, thanks to the Watersons. For the next few nights, we were anxious. The Watersons had been eerily quiet, and that couldn’t be a good thing. It was now sort of understood that whoever was up with Janine had a responsibility to check the front yard every now and then to see if there was something we could pin on the Watersons to have them investigated. It was petty, sure, but these people had been a menace. We couldn’t have Janine suffer because those bastards refused to act like people. ​ It all came down to this one night in early November. I was sitting up with Janine, watching their front yard from the kitchen window, when I spotted Irvin and the oldest kid stockpiling something in the yard. It looked like dark little boxes, but I couldn’t tell what they contained. They filled a big space in the yard with them, approximately 8 by 8 feet – spacing the boxes out evenly. They were at it for a long time, until Irvin stepped up to the living room window. He slapped his hand across the surface, slowly rubbing it back and forth. Seconds later, his wife and youngest son joined him outside. It was so uncanny. Like even their knocks were strange. I brought out my phone and started recording, just in case. They were doing something to the boxes, but I couldn’t tell what. ​ After a while, they all stepped back. All but Irvin, who held up a lighter. Only then did I realize they were setting up the *biggest batch of fireworks I’d seen*. ​ By the time I got to June, they’d already lit the fuse. Given how loud their display had been earlier nights, this was gonna be on a whole other level. I set Janine down and covered her ears as I yelled at June to do the same. She was barely awake, but did as I asked without question. I tried to hunch my shoulders over my ears, but I couldn’t quite make it. Janine was already crying, sensing the tension in the air. Moments later, there was this barrage of thumps, as rocket after rocket leapt into the sky – at least two dozen. They sailed up, but nothing happened. For a brief moment I almost thought my prayers’d been answered. Then the sky exploded. ​ For a moment, night turned to day. I could see every inch of the bedroom as the light burned into my eyes. Every contour of my wife and child. The pile of used clothes in the corner. The diapers at the changing station. Then came the sound. ​ It was so loud that I felt it before I heard it. The windows rattled, and I saw a painting fall. By the time it hit the floor, there was a sound so deafening that I didn’t hear the frame shatter. It immediately made my head ring. I could see June screaming something, but I couldn’t hear her. I had this screeching noise piercing all the way from my ear to my throat. Janine was okay, albeit a bit upset about the whole thing – but she was fine. I’d covered her in time. June put two fingers up to her ear and mouth, as if signaling she was gonna call someone, then she picked up Janine. I was dizzy, trying my best just to stand straight. Without that inner ear balance, your head feels like it’s on a swivel. I lost my footing three times just heading towards the hallway. ​ All I could hear was this incessant screeching coming from the back of my head; like there were two frayed cables in my mind, rubbing against one another, sending sparks down my spine. It was still bright outside, where I could see vague shapes of the Watersons dancing in their front yard. There was a fresh crack in our bedroom window, casting a strange shadow on my face. Trickles of water had started to silently tap against the pavement outside, forming puddles in the potholes. As I got to the hallway, I could feel myself calling out to June – but I couldn’t hear it. It was just this deep rumble in my chest. I became hyper-aware of my own breathing and pulse; the only noises able to reach my head. It dawned on me that this could, in fact, be permanent. I was surprised to see June holding up a finger against her lips, as if asking me to be silent. Then she pointed at the door. ​ There was someone outside. A dark shadow against the sudden backdrop of a downpour. ​ For a moment, we just stood there. June held Janine tight to her chest, looking back and forth between me and the door. I turned my head towards the kitchen, my eyes landing on the knife block. June was nodding at me – silently asking me to be prepared. There was no telling what these people were capable of, and we wouldn’t want to risk it. I couldn’t hear shit, but June could call for help. I saw her yelling something as the door shook. A threat, perhaps. I felt the vibrations of sound bounce against the side of my head, unable to reach through the thicket of my ears. I hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a knife as my mind raced. He might be saying he had a weapon, or that he was going to hurt us. There was no way to know. ​ The rain was coming down hard, obfuscating the silhouette outside. But as the door shook, again, I could tell that whatever was happening was violent. I placed myself between June and the front door, urging her to back away. She hurried into the bathroom, holding up her phone to me. I nodded. She stopped at the bathroom door, waving at me to follow. I intended to. Then the front door came down. ​ Irvin Waterson pushed his way through the crumbling doorframe, reaching for me – his sickly features lit up in a smile. My first instinct was to look back at June to make sure she’d locked herself in. She did – reluctantly. Then it was just me and the lanky man. He had no weapons, just these arms that seemed to go on forever. He was so much taller, and had so much longer reach than I’d anticipated. Not only was my hearing throwing me off, but there was just something inherently wrong with him. His left hand grabbed me by the biceps, pulling me towards him. There was this thick sticky coat of something warm in the palm of his hand, searing my arm like a sort of glue. I tried slicing him, but it was like trying to cut rubber. ​ He dragged me out into the rain, ecstatic. I could see him convulsing in a laugh. I kept trying to stab at him, but I lost my footing. He didn’t skip a beat; he just kept dragging me backwards into the middle of the street. I looked around, trying to scream for help. I could feel the air leaving my lungs, but nothing happened. The other Watersons were standing in their driveway, looking up into the rain. Behind them, I could see that the sunflower seeds had already sprouted – turning a sickly shade of blue. Irvin looked down on me, saying something, and nodded. I shook my head, and he nodded again – more intensely this time. He was telling me something he was going to do. Something that was going to happen. And looking at the way his hand had fused to my skin, I didn’t know what to think. It was just this freezing panic, settling into my spine. ​ Only then did I realize – it was still bright outside. The fireworks had long since stopped. ​ It is hard to explain the sensation. I looked up, and felt this immediate drain. Like going from well rested to sleep deprived in the span of a breath. There was this swirling light, something intensely red. Something that had seen the Watersons and answered their call. Something that wanted to get a better look at us. Like an eye in the sky. ​ It was so fast. The rain turned from a downpour into an opposite up-pour, sucking whatever had been dropped back up. I could see the other Watersons rise from the ground. Just a few feet at first, then all the way up the side of the house, and into the bright contrast of the mysterious light above. It was this painless, effortless glide – like a feather across a river. Into the sky. ​ First, I thought Irving was growing taller, until I realized what was happening. He was going away too, and he was bringing me with him. In a heartbeat, I was three feet into the air, hanging by his hand. He wasn’t letting go. No amount of cutting or stabbing would make him stop. Soon, my feet dangled in the air. My toes no longer reaching the ground, as I looked up at the ecstatic grin of Irwin Waterson. Unblinking. Relentless. *Overjoyed*. ​ There was only one option left, as I shoved the kitchen knife into my own skin – *cutting myself loose*. ​ I collapsed onto the ground, spraining my ankle in the process. The rain, still getting sucked back up, trickled over my body – bringing along swathes of blood that danced its way up my face. Looking up, caught one final glimpse of Irvin Waterson – his hand outstretched, his face devastated by what can only be described as guilt. He waved his fingers at me, urging me to reach for him. It’s like he didn’t understand why I was fighting him. Like he was doing me a favor – saving me. But as his face disappeared further and further away, and the ground went dry, I was left on the pavement with a bleeding arm. ​ Thank God June had already called the police. ​ That night left me with a nasty case of tinnitus and a hand-shaped scar on my bicep, but considering what could’ve happened, I consider myself lucky. Janine has just started middle school, and no one has seen the Watersons since that night. Their house was bought up by some kind of industrial machining company to use the land. We were bought out to, and moved after just a year of living there. None of us really minded. We’d gotten so paranoid that getting away was a blessing, even though we lost a fair amount of money on the deal. Sometimes late at night, especially when it rains, I look up at the clouds. I can almost feel that grin looking back at me. That there is something malevolent looking down, waiting for something bright enough to guide its path. And sometimes, in the distance, I see it. ​ A red eye in the clouds. Dreaming across the night sky

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/177ef8s/theyre_always_shooting_fireworks/

nosleep

Saturdead

Please Read Before Playing 'Ascension'. It Might Just Save Your Life.

I've always been drawn to board games. Not the kind your niece might unwrap on Christmas morning, all shiny and new. I'm talking about the faded, frayed-at-the-edges kind. The ones that reek of age. You see, in this modern age of neon-lit screens and virtual realities, my love for these tangible relics might seem out of place. But to me, they're treasures. Rows upon rows of them covered the walls of my study. Some dated back to times most have forgotten. Each one, proof to my years of scouring yard sales and near-bankrupt shops. Their potential monetary value never concerned me; to me, they were priceless. But my complacency, my belief that my passion was innocent, was shaken on that unremarkable Saturday. The weather doesn't stand out in my memory, but what I found in that rundown antique shop sure does. Among the usual trinkets and dust-covered memorabilia, a black wooden box caught my attention. "Ascension," it read, in stark white letters. The craftsmanship was exquisite, clearly not a product of any mass-producing machine. It felt ancient, and that was exactly want I wanted. The shop's owner, was an elderly man that watched me closely. "I see you've taken a liking to that game," he said, his voice soft, almost a whisper. "Truth be told, I don't even recall how it came into my possession." The way he looked at it, piqued my interest further. And when he named his price—a mere dollar—it felt like fate. He chuckled, but there was no mirth in it. "It's been here too long. Needs to find a new home." And so I left the store, clutching my new prize. Naturally, the game had become an obsession of mine before I even had a chance to play it. The moment I stumbled upon it, I knew it was special. So I called some friends over. They were less enthralled by the idea, but in a town where every day was predictably the same, any novelty was welcome. The night had settled in. And we were waiting on Josh. He worked late shifts at the local bakery. And while it wasn't ideal to call him over after such a tiring day, he was the kind of person who'd show up no matter what, reassuring me with his calm voice that it was "all good." The four of us, under the dim light of my living room, began to open the board game. The design was archaic, with artwork that seemed hand-drawn, depicting otherworldly creatures and haunting landscapes. The game's instructions were oddly simplistic. Players must navigate their tokens through a series of challenges, drawing cards that would either aid or hinder their path. Players couldn't reuse cards until a round had come full circle. And finally, the objective was to reach the "Ascension" space in the center. But what unnerved us was the warning: "Once you begin, you must finish. Stopping midway has its consequences." "It's probably just a selling point," I mused. The game allowed for six players, and each piece was a different color. They weren't just ordinary pieces, though. They had a little weight to them. The yellow piece, in particular, seemed to beckon me. It was shaped like a small child, and I chose it without a second thought. Two dice, both with 20 sides, an odd choice for a board game. I remember raising an eyebrow the first time I saw them, thinking it was a bit excessive. "Rolling a 40? Who needs to move that far in one turn?" But as the game unfolded, I understood. The board stretched out endlessly, with twists, turns, and traps that made every advance feel like a mirage. About two hours in, the sense of excitement and challenge morphed into weariness. For every gain, there was a greater loss. Move ahead 10 spaces, then get slapped back by 20. It was maddening. Josh, had made a half-hearted joke about the game being a metaphor for life. But even his laughter was short-lived. Remember, the small print warning at the beginning of the rulebook that hinted against stopping mid-game? And how at the time, I thought it was a marketing gimmick, a way to keep players locked in? By now, I really believed it. I figured the creator of the game realized just how boring his game, and with a warning like that maybe he could get players to actually finish. Just when I was about to concede, suggesting to my friends that we'd been duped into wasting our time, Paul, who sat next to me, drew a card. Unlike the others we'd seen, this one carried a chilling instruction: Remain silent for 5 minutes. Paul dropped the card, and a stillness filled the room. The stitched silence wasn't just figurative. When we turned to him, his mouth was sewn shut, dark threads weaving in and out of his lips, a grotesque look of pain on his face. He clawed at the stitches, each tug releasing a tiny spurt of blood. Josh, who'd been more tired than anyone else, let out the first scream. Delson, our fourth, didn't hesitate. He grabbed his phone, fingers trembling but determined, to call an ambulance. We were out of our depth, and the natural response to such absurdity was to call in professionals. But as the familiar tone of the outgoing call filled the room, the lights overhead began a frantic dance. A flicker, then another, their pace quickening until the room was swallowed by darkness. The darkness wasn't absolute for long. A soft, orange hue emerged, revealing six candles set in a circle around us. The flickering flames threw deformed shadows on the walls, that moved around constantly. So many questions swirled in my head. The stitching of Paul's mouth, the sudden appearance of the candles, the shadows on the wall. But they were all pushed aside by the most pressing and terrifying question of all: "Who—or what—is that behind Delson?" It wasn't quite a figure. More of a presence with a set of piercingly white eyes. Eyes that didn't seem rooted in itself. Their pupils jittered, unstable and erratic, as if trying to find a frequency on which to settle. Those eyes fixed on Delson, unblinking. And in his mounting terror, Delson silenced his phone. And with the muted click, the eyes simply... disappeared. The room was saturated with silence, each of us held hostage by our own fears. The circle of candles seemed to represent a fragile boundary between us and an unknown terror. There was no spoken agreement, but each of us sensed the same thing: step beyond the circle's perimeter, and there'd be dire consequences. Minutes that felt like hours ticked by. The game, once a source of curiosity, now sat at the center of our unease, and something in the shadows was delighting by it. Soon, a sound. Soft at first, almost unnoticeable, but growing steadily louder. The unmistakable tune of a Jack in the box, winding up in agonizing slow motion. Every turn of the crank tightened the knot of dread in my stomach. We all knew what came at the end of that tune, but the question was: did we want to find out? Acting on impulse, I snatched up the dice and rolled, desperate for any kind of reprieve. They landed, showing a baffling 47. Impossible, I thought. But then, what part of this was possible? Ignoring the illogicality, I quickly moved my yellow game piece 47 spaces forward, where it landed on a trapdoor icon. Three turns skipped. In any other scenario, I might've groaned in frustration. But here? It was a stay of execution. A silent consensus had formed among us: the game had to continue if we wanted any chance of escape. The goal was clear – "Ascension." Whatever it meant, it was our best shot. The order was set: after me, it's Josh, Delson, and lastly, Paul. By the time it circled back to him, the stitches had vanished, leaving behind a trail of hastily formed scabs. He didn't speak. None of them did. Yet, their accusatory glances said it all – this was my mess, and they were dragged into it. The game lulled us into a false sense of security, letting us complete one round without any card-pulling interruptions. But by the second round, our luck ended. Josh, with a glare that sent chills down my spine, picked a card. His voice trembled as he read out the instruction: "Blow out a candle." It felt like a cruel joke. Our sanctuary, reduced by our own hands. I could see the calculation in Josh's eyes. No one would risk their own protection, and given the circumstances, I was the group's sacrificial lamb. Without a word, he crawled over and extinguished the candle beside me. For a brief moment, I glimpsed a shadowy form trying to inch its way into the gap, but the surrounding light kept it at bay—for now. I didn't hate Josh. In his place, I might've done the same. But his choice had drawn a line in the sand. And I wasn't going to be sacrificed. Paul had gotten the next card, he read it and placed it down, "The card user has to roll behind his back on the following turn." What a weird card. By the third round, Delson drew a card, his anxiety palpable. But fate, it seemed, was momentarily on his side as well. "Move forward another 20 steps," it read. With a surge of relief, he advanced his piece. But as luck would have it, he landed on a trapdoor. Paul had his turn, a simple progression, and then the dice were in my hands. The roll was fortunate: 17 steps forward and nothing else. The simplicity of the move, devoid of the game's dark tricks, seemed to irritate the others, but their moods were none of my concern. Our group momentarily fell into a rhythm. There was a brief lull. Until the dice betrayed me. A card pull. Hesitantly, I drew one from the deck: "Nullify a card's effect on you once." But there was a caveat, scribbled in almost mocking fine print, "You can't share the info of this card until use, failure to do so will result in a consequence." "Blow out two candles," I found myself saying, not entirely sure why those words escaped my lips. I quickly extinguished one by Josh, then one near Delson. Now, our protective circle was comprised of just three candles, barely holding at bay the menacing voids around us. A couple of turns later, Delson, eyes wide with fear, drew a card. "Stand outside the candles for three seconds." He was livid, hurling curses my way as if the words could change his fate. I held the power to nullify, but now wasn't the time. Not for this. He sat in the circle long enough for the Jack in the box sound to return. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel bad. With a scream, he stood up and faced the darkness before stepping in. 1... 2... 3... Relief washed over him as he began to retreat. But that comfort was short-lived. On the fourth count, as if the shadows had been lying in wait, Delson was snatched away. There was no scream, no cry for help. He just vanished, consumed by the void. Sweat clung to our brows, our breaths ragged. Every roll of the dice was now a plea, a silent prayer for salvation. Sometimes, they heeded our calls, but often, they betrayed us. When Josh drew the next card, his face turned ashen. He read out, voice quivering, "All other players have to step outside the candles for 5 seconds." Paul, his voice filled with defiance, declared, "I nullify that." He brandished a card similar to mine, confident it would save us. Yet, nothing happened. From the corner of my eye, I caught a flicker of movement. The same pair of haunting white eyes from before, now accompanied by a wide, elongated grin, lurked in the darkness. Before we could react, shadowy tendrils lunged forward, dragging Paul screaming into the abyss. The only trace of him left was a severed arm. The realization hit me, hard: revealing the 'Nullify' card before its use had deadly consequences. My gaze locked onto Josh, whose face seemed shrouded in deeper shadows than before. "You lied," I whispered. He met my eyes but offered no words in return. The game dwindled down to just the two of us, a suffocating motion of progress and regress. The room, once filled with the raucous chatter of friends, was now a claustrophobic battleground, every turn a potential pitfall. Hours bled into what felt like days, and we became more desperate. Finally, a winner. Though, it wasn't me. My heart sank as I realized Josh had bested me, landing on the elusive center a mere handful of spaces ahead. His laughter echoed hollowly. The board, as if sensing the game's conclusion, conjured one final card at its heart. Josh retrieved it, fingers trembling, and read aloud: "To ascend, one must stay." Our eyes locked in a tense standoff. I could almost hear the gears in his mind grinding, processing the cruel irony. Had he succeeded in eliminating Paul and me earlier, he'd be trapped in this place forever. Raising a shaky finger towards me, the last card still clutched in his hand, he rasped, "It's you. You're staying." In that heartbeat of a moment, I played my final move, "I nullify." In this treacherous game, in this climactic moment, I felt the scales had tipped in my favor... But "I Nullify." Josh replied, holding the same card. Dread settled in my chest. In my desperation, I had forgotten: Josh never revealed his card after his cruel ruse against Paul. He had played the room, played me, and now had an ace up his sleeve. However, the familiar shadow began to form behind him. And confusion swept over me. Why was it there? What had gone wrong? I hastily fumbled for the rulebook, pages rustling loudly in the stifling silence. I scanned for clarity, the words quickly swimming into focus. A critical rule, one that had slipped all of our minds: Players couldn't reuse cards until a round had come full circle. A rush of realization dawned. Lifting my gaze, Josh was already gone. Everything was, the shadows, the candles, even Paul's severed arm, all had disappeared. The room was as it had been, bathed in the soft glow of my overhead lights. Except for one thing: the game box, sitting innocently on the floor. The morning sun crept through the window, casting a gentle warmth over the room. I found myself staring at the cursed box for what felt like hours. With trembling hands, I gathered it up, determined to prevent anyone else from experiencing it. Walking to the backyard, I dug a deep hole, throwing the box in. As the first clump of dirt hit it, an unsettling chill breezed past me, as though the game was giving one last protest. Undeterred, I continued until the box was buried deep underground. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The horrific events of that night became a distant memory, albeit one that occasionally haunted my dreams. I avoided board games, and even mentioning that night was taboo for me. However, one day, as I returned home from work, a familiar sight greeted me. On the doorstep lay a package, wrapped neatly with no return address. Naturally, I tore it open. And there it was: the very same game box, looking as pristine as the day I first laid eyes on it. Attached was a simple note: "To ascend, one must stay."

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/177ld22/please_read_before_playing_ascension_it_might/

nosleep

KlidWrites

Creepy guy outside my house

To be honest I had only just remembered this a few days ago. If I make any grammar mistakes or anything of that such then I'm sorry, english is not my first language. So without any further or do here we gooooooooo..... I grew up in a small town that was about 15 minutes outside of Paris, yes this story takes place in France. For personal reasons I'm not gonna name the town but in short, lets just say its full of a bunch of elderly people who love to give blood donations. I was around 13-14 years old yes I'm female (so 2012-2013) and I had recently dropped out of normal school due to sever bullying, boy do iI have stories about that. Anyways I began doing online school which was much easier in the sense of less people picking fights with me. The daily routine me and my family would have would be my older sister leaving early in the morning to go to school, while my leaves the same time but goes to the metro to go to work. My mom would stay home with me a few hours in the morning before going out and doing some work. Which would leave me alone all day (except for my mom coming to get me so we could occasionally go out to lunch) until my sister, dad and mother come back. I didn't really mind being on my own that much, except for my parents who weren't too happy with me being on my own. At the time I didn't pay attention much to their worries or warnings about the growing dangers in our town and in France in general. When I look back at this now I realise how weird and slightly creepy this was. I'm just going to tell you what was going on in my town so like this you could understand what I'm about to tell you. Since there were many elderly people it was pretty easy for people to break in and rob them. I don't want to sound offensive but there were these Eastern and Romanian old fat men who would come in to different towns including mine and recruit teenagers to rob houses while they in return get money, drugs and so on. Usually the teenagers would run up and down different streets and ring people's doorbells. Well I guess I should say fence bells? In France everyone has a fence around their house and no we do not have guns. Unless you're a hunter and work at a market or something, but there are still a lot of restrictions. That and police officers have guns. Anyways the teens would come up to peoples houses, ring their doorbell, wait a few minutes, watch the house for a few minutes then run off. They usually did this to see who would respond. It was a way of checking to see who's home and if someone is even home or not. When this happens its best to call the police, when this happens the teens try to out run the cop cars. Sometimes there are fake entrepreneurs who ring peoples' doorbells and try to get them to open their gates and 'sell' them something. They're really just wanting you to open your gate so they can get in and rob you. Recently before this incident an old lady was beaten and robbed because she opened her gate for two police officers. They said they wanted to ask her some questions for a case.....they weren't real police officers. Now that you know about that my story will make much more sense now. The teens running up to people's gates was also a very daily to weekly thing, so we were all used to it. I'm quite a curious person so when the doorbell rang I peeped my head out of the curtains to see who it was. I have a really good memory so I still remember what this guy looked like. He had one of those American high school sports team red and white hoodie thing, sorry I don't know what thats called. His hair was slightly spiky from what looked like hair gel and he wore dark blue skinny jeans with some white sneakers. Personally I don't think he saw me at the time since I just stuck my head through the curtains for a few seconds. I know my parents told me to call the police but I didn't feel threatened. Besides he must've know the 'call the police' routine by now. Eventually he left and I went on with my work. The next couple of weeks I'd see him come up and ring the doorbell, wait, scan the house then leave. This started to happen more and more frequently and I still never called the police on him. I guess I figured that if something were to happen, I'd use my taekwondo on him and his buddies, but I highly doubted something would happen. On some days he would come early in the morning and watch my father and older sister leave the house, while he just stood there watching them. Then he'd come back when my mom would leave the house in our family car and watch her drive away. I still didn't think any of this was that suspicious or anything bad. It soon got to the point he would just stand outside the house, across the road just watching and scanning the house for hours on end till my mom would come home. One day I saw him in his usual spot across the street just staring at the house again. He must've been there for a few hours until a black tinted window car pulled up. He got in and the car sat there for a few minutes before driving away slowly. I thought this was odd but never mentioned it to my parents. Well done younger me. A few days later I was doing my school work when my mom told me she was going out to buy something. I just nodded at her and continued my work. This following part will be from what my mom told me. My mom had pulled the car out of the garage and was about to leave the house when she made eye contact with the teen. He had some kind of creepy grin on his face. My mom felt something was off and pulled back into the garage and closed the gate. She came upstairs and told me to come with her because she didn't like the way this guy was just standing in front of the house and grinning like that. Personally I didn't want to get up and go anywhere, but my mom forced me to come with her. When we pulled out of the garage and were in the street, my mom closed the gate. I turned my head and made eye contact with the teen, he looked really pissed and angry about something. As we drove away I turned my head to look back at him and saw he was turned towards us, watching me and my mom drive away. He stood there still looking pissed till we were out of sight. Once we were out of sight my mom told me how creepy he looked and called the police to come to the house. Nothing ever came of this and our house was never robbed. Now that I come to think of this memory its much more creepier than I originally saw it as. Like if he was just checking out the house to see if it was possibly a good place to break into and rob, why did he look so pissed when he saw me in the backseat of my mom's car?

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5mabc7/creepy_guy_outside_my_house/

freehorrorstories

KittenKnightt

[ true ]The hospital hook up

I was a 13 year old female who had to go to a hospital to get my spine fixed. Up until the day before this I was in a wheel chair. I decided to ditch my parents and enjoy walking while I could after the surgery. I was free for once in my life. I was wandering around the hospital looking everywhere for nothing in particular when I wandered near my room to see a middle aged woman passed out on the floor. I got one of nearest people to help me and they called a code blue. Since I was really into anything medical I knew what a code blue was. I stood in horror as I watched the lady being shocked when I couldn't take it. I was watching some random lady being brought back from the dead. I found the cafeteria and got a sandwich from the deli and sat at an empty seat. A 25 ish year old man sat down at the table which I ignored. He muttered to me that he was very thankful I found his wife. I flashed a kind smile and continued eating. He touched my head and this really got me creeped out. He said I had nice hair and I was just like hold the fuck up. I squeezed his arm until he let go. I just glared at him and that made him walk away. Then a couple of minutes passed and the guy was back with the same sandwich as me. He stated that the set up was not how he imagined our first date. I said " hold up. You go fucking around with other women while your wife is in the hospital dying? That's it I'm outta here" I found a group of adults who I knew and told them about the situation. My dad was amongst the group and he angrily stood up and pursued the man pushing him against the wall yelling so much his face was red. The guy proceeds to say that my dad had a pretty girlfriend referring to me and that pushed my over the line and 13 year old me snapped. I told my dad to step aside and I gave that guy two black eyes and a bloody nose. My dad had never been prouder.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5kwlwd/true_the_hospital_hook_up/

freehorrorstories

fa2penguin15

Sudden feeling of dread(real)

I don't know if this is a common thing to happen, but to start with I'm not paranoid or anything like that. I was sitting on my bed, scrolling through YouTube and other things but out of the blue an overwhelming sense of dread and fear came over me, I tried to distract myself thinking it would go away, it didnt. I can't explain why I felt like this. I couldn't even sleep, I jumped at every thump and creak the old house made. If anyone knows what this means, please tell me

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5kgrc2/sudden_feeling_of_dreadreal/

freehorrorstories

Strawberry_bean

(True) VooDoo rainstick

I'm a half white, half Mexican-American woman. I visited Mexico for the first time when I was 10 and my sister was 8. Can Cun. We went with my mom and grandma one night into town away from the resort. They speak Spanish, so we felt comfortable. I remember there were dirt roads and young children selling gum. My family came across a table in front of a store with lots of silver jewelry sprawled across it. I'm not sure where the rainstick came from. Whether it was sitting on the table or someone else walked up with it. I just remember a Mexican showing the handmade rainstick to my little sister and after a minute, my grandma gave some pesos to the person for it. It was 1.5 inches wide and about 13 inches long. It was cylinder-shaped and made of wood. Flat on the ends. It looked really old and worn, but it was sturdy. There were 3 colorful bands of twine on each end. If you tilted it slowly to either side, it sounded just like rainfall. I assumed there was rice inside hitting little sticks as it fell down. We went back to the hotel with our newfound trinkets. FastForward to when I was 18 in 2007. Me and my mom were living in a one-bedroom apartment in Plano, Texas. My sister was living in Michigan with our father. The computer desk was right next to the bed. There was a shelf on the other side of the bed with pictures on it. My mom had been going thru old belongings and placed the rainstick on the leftside of the shelf. I was sitting on the bed and my mom was sitting down in front of the computer. I was bored and picked up the rainstick to hear the soothing sound of rain and bring back memories of my childhood. I thought it would be fun to start shaking it like an instrument and made a musical beat. As soon as I did that, I was in front of a fire in circle of black people wearing little clothing. We were all sitting, surrounded by tall grass. No buildings, just out in nature. Their appearance and the feeling there was tribal. I was playing the rainstick, shaking it while some were chanting a foreign language I did not recognize. I noticed my hands were black and suddenly, I was back on the bed and my mom and I smelled smoke. It smelled like there was a fire burning in the apartment. We then witnessed a white fog slither up out of the rainstick. We screamed at the top of our lungs. We ran out of the apartment as I dropped the stick. We calmed eachother down, thinking about what we should do. I told her about the vision I had while playing the rainstick. She decided we need to find a curandera or curandero(they clear spirits from homes). We figured it had been used for voodoo or something and wondered where this thing originated from. We realized that we didn't know exactly how old the thing was and how many people owned it before us. We prayed that whatever came out of that stick didn't follow us to the car. We were freaked out scrambling thru a phonebook seeking a curandera. We drove to the Mexican side of town desperately seeking a curandera, but it was past 10 pm and all the spirit/psychic shops were closed. We built up enuff courage to return home. The smell of campfire was gone. I called this fatfuck musician I was dating at the time. His mom was a very well-respected psychic in Dallas. He told me to wrap the stick in red material and place it in the closet next to the front door. After 2 hours, me and mommabear felt uncomfortable with it still in the house and placed it right outside our front gate. The next day, one of my sister's friends came by. A Native American dude we referred to as 'AshTray'. He knew I liked smoking ganja and brought a joint. I asked if he could get a bag of bud for me. He had mentioned he was hanging with a friend that night, but had not brought him over bc we didn't know him. AshTray left to get my sack. I left to walk 2 buildings over to hang with this hot guy I knew while I waited. I noticed at the building facing ours, was a dude about 16 years old standing behind the staircase staring at our apartment. I assumed it was AshTray's friend waiting for him to come back. I said, "you don't have to wait out here dude. You can come in." He didn't say shit and came inside. We were chilling, watching TV. AshTray returned with the dimebag and we all got stoned. Eventually, the dude I found behind the stairs said he had to take off. He left and I asked AshTray how they had been friends. He told me he didn't know that guy and the friend he said that he didn't bring was at his apartment the whole time. I was pretty freaked out and told my mom about it. All 3 of us opened the door and noticed the rainstick was gone. We know that creepy fucker took it. My sister came back from Michigan the next day. I described the guy from the stairs and she knew who I was talking about. A week later, she informed me that he he hadn't been at school for several days and his parents were looking for him. I had a feeling it had to do with him stealing our haunted rainstick.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5jqqzw/true_voodoo_rainstick/

freehorrorstories

Bodyoflight3

Spin the bottle

Spin the bottle I was the average teenage cheerleader in high school and you know how high school is. I went to a party and all 180 of use decided we would play spin the bottle. The rules are simple. If the bottle lands on you, you have to kiss the person in a closet. One kid spun the bottle and it landed on me. I went in the closet hesitantly and went in the closet and something made my contacts pop out. The person was ready for me to kiss them so I just closed my eyes and kissed him. The problem was the person said I wasn't kissing them. I glanced into the darkness not able to see a thing and saw a black figure. I let out a scream as it pulled me deeper in the closet. I held on for dear life and the kid I forgot was in the closet scratched the thing, making it let go. I pulled out me spare glasses I kept with me just in case and we went out to tell everyone the story. The owner of the house said the closet was not deeper. I got chills at that. I told them since I didn't kiss the kid in the closet I would kiss the kid in front of everyone. The kid was so happy and I was just relieved to be alive. The next few days everyone teased me about liking a non popular but I just brushed them off.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5i931r/spin_the_bottle/

freehorrorstories

fa2penguin15

The First Time I Went To A Boy's Place

I was around 16 at the time so I was commencing at a new secondary school. During my early days attending this new educational faculty, I met this rather charming guy we can refer to as “Jacob”. Even though Jacob was quite enticing, he seemed to show an unsettling amount of quirkiness. Not the quirkiness you’ll see in those nerdy people whose into Marvel comic books like me, but the quirkiness that’ll make you think that this particular person will be a potential serial killer. Being the push-over and overly friendly person, I put that aside and became friends with him. One Saturday afternoon, Jacob invited me to stay at his place. I didn’t have anything else to do so I accepted the invitation. Around 20 minutes later he picked me up and took me to his place since he was able to drive. Upon arrival of his house, I took a look of the property. It was out in the bush, a big property with the main house which his parents and sister lives and a granny flat around 10 meters from the main house where Jacob lives by himself. I checked my phone for the time, it was around 5 in the evening and I noticed that I have no reception. Which is strange because Telstra, the phone company I’m with is very good with their reception and normally I can get decent signals when I’m out in the bush when I go to see family. I thought I was in a setting for a classic horror movie, but I humorously brushed it off in my mind. Once we settled into his place in his kitchen/living room, he went off to go have a shower. As I heard the water being turned on in his bathroom, I thought I should do a little bit of snooping around. Nothing too privacy invading, just too look at the décor in his place and to see what his room his like. In the mist of my snooping, I saw various of things; his old jersey when I used to play rugby, a few artworks he did since he’s an art student and a photo booth style photo of him and his ex which I kind of got jealous about since I had feelings for the guy back then. The creepy part though was his room. I was stepped into his room at first it seemed normal. Bed with a nightstand, desk with high-tech computer and camera, stuff like that. But as I looked around his room, a half opened drawer in his nightstand caught my attention. As I looked into the drawer, I noticed something that sparked up red alarms. A big, sharp butcher’s knife, rope, BDSM style handcuffs, and a bottle of something that I knew it wasn’t lube. I tried to brush it off as Jacob just being hella kinky but something in me knew there’s something fishy going on. Maybe because of rumors I heard at school about him doing some sort of fucked up shit, at first I ignored them but now I starting to believe these rumors. Shortly after I heard the shower turn off, so I spirted my ass back to where I was sitting before he had a shower and acted like I was trying to get reception. He came out of the bathroom; dried and dressed. He made an amusing remark about the reception here as he walked up behind to where I was sitting and expectantly hugged me and scooped me up bridal style and carried me to his bedroom. These sudden actions made have a mini anxiety attack and a little bit fearful for my life. As he placed me on his bed Jacob proceeded to go to his tripod next to his desk and prop his camera on and directed it to my direction. This made my brain to say “get the fuck out of here!” as my heart was pounding in fear, thinking that he was going to rape and murder me and film this all on camera to put on the deep web since he told me that he visits deep web sites frequently. Luckily in these situations I was always smart enough to escape and so I pretended to read a text from my mum saying that I need to come home. I lied to him that my mum wants me to come home and said that she will pick me up. I “apologized” for my unforeseen leave and bid him fairwell before I rushed out of his property once I was out of his granny flat. As I was one for two streets away, I called my next door neighbour to pick me up since I my mum was out of town that night. Once my friend picked me up I told her some made up story on why I was here and she took me home. Ever since that incident, I was scared of Jacob and lessen my time on talking to him. After he graduated, I blocked him on all contacts and never talked to him again. That night was that most fearful night I ever experienced, after that don’t go to guys’ places that live on their own.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5i7tjb/the_first_time_i_went_to_a_boys_place/

freehorrorstories

fetusmaknae

(True) The break in

So at this time I was 16 and female and since I didn't have a job I babysat kids. I was babysitting 7 kids from different families. I was also watching 3 of my brothers making ten kids total. It was snack time for the kids so I went to go get something for them to eat. I finished preparing the last meal when this shady looking man approached the house. I told the kids to go in another room and hide. I had a small pocket knife and my phone, ready to protect the kids at all costs. I witnessed the guy try the doors and windows. I called a neighbor. No answer. I went to the oldest kid who was 13 and told her that if anything happened to sneak out the back door. This kid was pretty understanding and not questioning for a teen. I saw the front door's lock jiggling. I told her to gather the kids and run to a neighbor's house to get help. The front door opened as the last 2 kids exited. The man asked in a scruffy voice where the kids were. I tried to play dumb but he was not buying it. He told me he would shoot me if I didn't show me where the kids had gone. I slowly pulled the knife out of my pocket and stabbed him through the arm with it. I was not letting him get the kids. He took a gun out and shot at me which he missed by a lot due to the chunk taken out of his arm. I grabbed ropes off a desk a tackled him to the ground. I tied him to a support beam and ran out the back door. I found the kids with at least 10 neighbors because they split up. The cops arrived and took the mask off the person. He was a murderer that no police could find. The cop told me that if it wasn't for my sharp eyes and quick actions we all would have died. I thank that oldest kid for listening to me. Even though there was a large cut on my scalp and a cut down my stomach I know the kids are alright. And the parents even paid me extra for risking my life to save the kids. This proves not all teens are bad

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5i1w63/true_the_break_in/

freehorrorstories

fa2penguin15

[true] Airplane creep

I am a 20 year old woman but this happened when I was 18. I was flying red eye to New York from Vegas. I was flying to go see my grandmother in the hospital. Before the plane was in at the airport I went to one of those pizza and doughnut shops and was standing in line. Since my knee was bad I leaned against a table. This guy got in the line after me and tried to make small talk. I just wanted my pizza and to leave in peace. Here is where it gets weird. He starts asking personal questions like where I lived and asked if I had a boyfriend. Then he attempts to lift my dress to which I smack him across the face. Fast forward to boarding time. I get on the plane in first class and surprise, it's creep. He takes a seat next to me and takes a water bottle and pours it on me. I go to the restroom to wipe it off and I was stuck with a wet dress the entire flight. I was in my seat and this guy was rummaging through my bag to which I asked what he was doing. He gave no answer. I sit down and put my headphones in and slowly drift to sleep. I wake up to this guy trying to lift my dress again. I smack him and call for a flight attendant. I get my seat changed to another seat in the aisle. I found a teacher I hadn't seen in years. We catch up a little then I need to go to the airplane. I had to pass the guy and as I did he pinched my butt to which I turned around and told him to fuck off. I got an attendant again but she said they couldn't do anything. I had to move back to where I was because my teacher vomited in my seat. This guy keeps attempting to kiss me and I just kept blocking him. He whispered in my ear while tightly holding my hands that we were meant to be together. He dumps the contents of my purse onto the floor and I had to pick it up. I looked in disbelief as I pick up the contents. He smiles and touches me very inappropriately. I try to handle him when my teacher comes and offers me to trade seats with him. I gladly agreed and that was the last I saw of the creep.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5hvel6/true_airplane_creep/

freehorrorstories

fa2penguin15

My Stalker

My name is Annabel and I just like any other 18 year old girl I guess, but the only thing is I have a stalker. You see I was adopted my adopted parents are wonderful but my birthparents they are monsters. They used drugs alcohol my brith mother she even she used when she was pregnant, they abused me neglected me and so many other things , then one night my brith father was really drunk and high that he murdered my mother. He went to jail as you can imagine for murder never for child abuse. He got out recently though you see he told my parents that when he gets out he's going to find me and take me back. Well he lived up to his promise and found me I've seen him outside my window he sent me text I feel uneasy going home or leaving someone's always watching me. He wants me gone you see I want him back in jail he didn't even do his whole sentence. He has already threatened me before. I might be safe soon because me and my family are moving, but that won't stop him he will return he will find me. Ps. this is A true story

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5gcl08/my_stalker/

freehorrorstories

Princessofdark

A cough saved my life

Ok my name is Jason this is what happened when i was about 16 years old. Im 27 now and what happened that day would change everything. I live in west Virginia where there's mountains all around so i grew up in the woods, huntimg, camping, riding atvs. So one day me and 2 of my friends brian and jesse went out on our atvs to find a place to camp that weekend. This was Thursday and we wanted to find a place to camp on Saturday. We went pretty far into the woods to try and find the best spot we could because we was bringing our girlfriends camping with us. So we get probably 5 or 6 miles back in the woods and find this little lake and we all knew we found it. So we get off and check everything out make sure it wasnt private property or anything but there was no signs and wasnt a house around for miles. "This is it" jesse said and we all agreed, It was perfect. So we all get back on our 4wheelers and head back knowing that Saturday was going to be a night to remember, but what we didnt know was it would be the worst night of our lives. So we get back the next day we get all our gear loaded up fishing poles, tents, sleeping bags, we made sure we had everything we needed to make it a fun night including 3 bottles of mad dog and a 30 pack of bud light in a cooler. We was ready. We all meet up at about 11 o'clock Saturday morning and head out to our perfect camping spot. When we got there it was great we put the tents up got fire wood set everything up. The girls loved it too, except brians girlfriend (we'll call her kat) she said she felt uneasy but we just figured it was because she never been camping before. So we started fishing and swimming and drinking just doing everything teenagers do but kat just keep looking around and wouldnt join us at all just sit by lake. Finally it started to get dark so we started a fire and made some hotdog and just sit around it talking telling stories everything you do when u camp. Its about 11:30 when jesses girl (sam) says she going to go pee and kat goes with her they're gone maybe 4 mins when they come running back saying kat saw something behind a tree watching them. I grab my 9mm smith that i brought and me and jesse went to check it out. We dont find anything so we think the scary camp fire stories just freaked them out. We get back and tell them we didnt find anything but kat said she knows what she saw and wants to leave. We get her to chill out and me having a gun kinda put her mind at ease. After about 30 45 minutes we all was ready to lay down and spend alone time with our significant others. And no one is even thinking about what kat saw anymore. I wish we would have left because about an hour goes by my girl (Lindsey) is asleep but im just laying there listening to the sounds of the woods when i start to hear footsteps. At 1st i think its one of the others but then i could tell whoever was walking was trying to do it quietly, the footsteps stop at my tent door, i start to freak inside but dont make a sound they stand there for at least 3 minutes then i see the zipper start to slowly unzip, i start to grab my gun when i realize i left it in my bag by the campfire, so stupid im thinking, so the zipper moves about 6 inches slowly when lindsey coughs and it stops. Shes still asleep and doesnt know someone or something is trying to sneak in our tent. I hear nothing for about 5 mins then footsteps again but sneaking away from my tent. I cant move im terrified all i can do is stay quite and hope it dont come back. 30 mins pass when all of a sudden the most crazy evil sounding scream ive ever heard come from the next tent over (brian and kats) and they started screamimg NOOO please NOOO. I jump up runnimg out of the tent and lindsey is awake now and i run right to my bag for my gun lindsey right beside me terrified not knowing whats going on, i grab it out and look at their tent and what i see still haunts my dreams to this day, this pail white long arms with long claws at the end of its long fingers. It like a humanoid type thing just taking chunks out of Brian bitting him, i fire it looks up and its yellow eyes looks into my soul ,im shacking as it starts galloping towads us lindsey screaming, i fire againg it takes off into the woods screaming that god awful scream, we run up to their tent and jesse and sam seen it all happenimg too so we all run to brian and kat but it was to late, they were both tore up. U couldnt even tell who was who. The girls was crying jesse puked and i felt like i was in a nightmare. I had lime tunnel vision, i was scanning the wood hoping whatever that was didnt come back. Jesse and the girls was all huddled up to me as we made our way to the atvs im looking to the wood the whole time with the gun pointed towards the way that thing ran off. we get to the atvs and i realize, the keys are in the tent in my pants pocket (im in my boxers) About that time we hear that thing scream again . I tell them to wait there i gotta go back and get the keys. I didnt have a xhoice as much as i didnt want to go bk. I run as fast as i can to the tent grab the keys and turn to run back and there it comes out of the woods running right at me i rise the gun and start firing. I hit it because it yelped and screamed and turnd and ran back to rhe woods again. I ran back to the atvs and we road out of there so fast im surprised we didnt wreck and kill ourselves. We went right to the cops and told them everything that happened. They went up to where we were. Came back after what seemed like forever and took us back there with them. By this time it was light out. We get back there and everything was destroyed. The tents are ripped up stuff is thrown everywhere They take me up to brians tent and theres blood everywhere but no bodies. The cop says "where are they?" I said " i dont know they was here when we left that thing must have took them." Then they start saying it looks like a bear did this and trying to say we was drunk and must have been mistaken about what we seen. I know what i seen and whatever that was it wasnt even close to looking like a bear. Its over 10 years later and brian and kats bodies have never been found. It was wrote up as a black bear attack. I never talked about it to anyone jesse and sam got married moved to Florida Lindsay moved too but we broke up not long after that halpened so i dont even know where. What still gets me is whatever that was, was at our tent 1st but lindseys coughed and it went to brian and kats tent. I dont know why but i know a cough saved my life.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5fp7ho/a_cough_saved_my_life/

freehorrorstories

jaybee2389

A Deep Web Experience from the Other Side (NSFW)

My name is (REDACTED) (REDACTED), I’m 26 years old, blonde hair, blue eyes, 5’6; so pretty typical really. This seems really pointless now, but I promise it is important information though. It will mean a lot later in this message. It’s hard to decide where to start, so I will just run you through from the beginning, I suppose. Two weeks ago I was out for a run before work and before the road got hectic with the heavy morning work traffic. There is a fog, I remember this distinctly because it was so thick that it actually made it hard to see about 10 feet in front of me. Before I knew it, a dark red SUV started to become visible through the heavy clouds. I don’t know what happened here really, as it was all so fast. One minute I was running my normal route, the next I was grabbed and thrown into the SUV. I guess they used chloroform or something like it to knock me out, because when I came to I was in a solid white room with absolutely nothing in it but me. I don’t know what was worse, realizing that I had been kidnapped, or the maddening essence of the dead and empty room I was being kept in. For two days I saw and heard no-one, minus the terrified screams, pleas and downright pitiful begging that escaped my mouth. Finally they came, but it was no blessing. I was taken to another white room, with actual stuff in it, stripped down to nothing and washed like a dog, cold water and all. There were three men and one woman in the room. The woman just set back and observed, every now and again writing something down. The men heckled me, tossed me around between them. They, they touched me, but blessedly the woman spoke up before it went any further. She had a very thick German accent. I remember she said for them to wait until it was my turn that they didn’t want to spoil anything. I was taken to yet another solid white room, but this one wasn’t empty. There was a chair in the center, screwed into the floor, an empty box, about the size of a coffee pot box, and a metal swivel table covered with a white cloth. Here I was plopped into the chair, my ankles and wrists tightly bound with heavy metal latches. I was terrified. I asked them what they were going to do with me, but no-one spoke a word as they went about their tasks. I felt like an object to them; not a human just like them. Everyone left and, once again, I was alone. A whirring noise brought me out of the panic attack I was beginning to go into. I watched in horror as an extra-large television descended from above me, and settled in against the wall directly in front of me. A man dressed like an old butcher from the 50s, and a woman dressed like an old fashioned nurse, came in and uncovered the metal table, revealing a plethora of small tools. A scalpel, several other types of med surge equipment, dental tools and other things I didn’t really recognize. I have never been so terrified in my entire life. My hell truly began when the screen lit up and a small group of people came up in their own chat bubbles. The butcher asked the nurse if everything was in order, she nodded and said in a German accent, “Yes doctor, everyone has paid.” He smiled and thanked the group of 6 on the screen. My body trembled beyond my control. “Very well then, let’s begin.” The butcher/“doctor” commented. The nurse walked over to the screen and turned up the volume. “What is your first request?” She asked the panel. The first person in line on screen said, “Bite her nipple; hard, then peel it off nice and slow. This is where I began screaming. They began attempting to put a ball gag in my mouth, but the man on the screen stated, “Let her scream”. The nurse walked behind me, grabbing my breasts hard and sticking them out as far as she could. The butcher then leaned down and bit the right one. White hot pain seared through my body. Just as the man wanted, I screamed. The nurse, which I heard the butcher call Olga, brought a long, thin pair of strangely shaped tongs and a scalpel. The butcher took the scalpel, leaving the nurse with the tongs. She grabbed my nipple and pulled it out as far as she could, so far I thought she might rip it off, then the butcher stepped forward and began to slice through the tender skin of my breast. I screamed and screamed, but my captors didn’t even react. I tried struggling, but it only made things worse. In a matter of just a few minutes, as the butcher took his sweet time, I was left with no nipple on my right breast. I could feel warm blood leaking down my stomach and pooling underneath me. The nurse and butcher looked expectantly at the screen, awaiting their next order. I stole a glance at the man currently commanding my torture, he was just a normal guy; they all were! Out of the 6 men, only one looked slightly uncomfortable. They wore suits and ties and looked like professionals, each appearing to have just stepped out of the office. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t suit and tie wearing office pros. My heart sank; if these guys were capable of this, then anybody was. Struggling against my restraints, determined not to suffer any longer, I cried out and cursed the men behind that damned television screen. I cursed the butcher and the nurse. I continued my tirade until I heard one of the men say, “undo her and beat her against the walls.” I looked back up in shock; was there no end to their cruelty? Quickly, the nurse moved the cart of horror toys out of the room and returned to my side. Together, they removed my shackles and I was free. I bolted for the door, but was yanked backward by my hair. Again I screamed in pain, which seemed to please everyone but myself. Before I could even fall, the butcher swung me around, still holding by my hair, and slammed me into the wall opposite the door. I hit it hard; hard enough to knock the wind out of my lungs. Again, before I was able to even think of what to do, I was slammed into another wall, then another, and another until the man with the request said it was enough for him. The butcher grabbed me by my upper arm and forced me in front of the screen. I have never felt so exposed, so vulnerable; so small in all my life. I prayed that they were done. The nurse stepped forward then and said, you have 7 more minutes of paid time, what is your final wish for our little beauty here, she gestured at me. There was silence for a moment as the men seemed to be deciding on what they wanted for the finale, but the request was nothing I had braced for. “Rape her.” I was floored, I begged and pleaded that they change their minds, to the butcher to please not, to the nurse, as a woman, to please stop this, but my words fell on deaf ears, and the butcher seemed determined to oblige, as I heard the sound of his leather apron hit the floor and a belt come undone. He still held me by my arm. I struggled with all my might to get away, but I was jarred when the hulk of a man turned and backhanded me right across my face. I nearly fell, and he used this to his advantage, throwing me the rest of the way to the ground, positioning me so that the men could see everything from a sideways view. “Make it rough” one of the men called. The butcher crawled over top of me and smiled, “with pleasure” he stated, wrapping one large, beefy, hand around my throat and pushing down. By the time he was finished with me; my screams had diminished to pathetic sounding sniffles and begging. I just wanted this torture over with; I wanted them to kill me. And this was the moment that he would. Sure that would be the men’s last request. I was shocked to hear them say to keep me alive for another time, and that they would likely be back. The man lifted me off the ground, licked my ear and whispered, “Looks like it’s your lucky night, aye sweetheart?” I was far too exhausted from the pain and shame to fight back. I just let them take me, praying that they would end the torture. Unfortunately, I was immediately shoved back into my little white room and left there until they decided that if I put this information on the normal internet it would bring in more customers. Please stop watching these videos! Please stop visiting the deep web! This isn’t a joke; its people’s lives and they shouldn’t be destroyed, tortured or killed for the amusement of others. I already know that I won’t leave this place alive, or intact, or that matter, but maybe I can save someone else from this fate; maybe you.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5f3eny/a_deep_web_experience_from_the_other_side_nsfw/

freehorrorstories

DarkRayvyn

The Closet

Every night before bed, I begged my mother to make sure my closet door was snugged tighter than my own cover. We had fallen into a typical nightly routine of her tucking me in, then examining the closet door, even pushing it with her hip to be certain it was closed. I know she’s always thought I was being a silly little girl, but she humors me anyway. She has been a pretty good mother. At least, she’s a good mother when she is single. I know she doesn’t like it too well, but the men in her life were always needy; always wanting her time; always wanted MY time. I wasn’t old enough yet to experience the world all on my own, and with my dad dead, I needed my mother. I needed her to watch over me, to feed me and take me to the park, to grab me an ice cream when I did something good. I needed her to be my mother; and only my mother. When I was 12, my mother began dating Chase. He was a nice enough guy, always buying mom flowers and candy and always, without fail, bringing me some smaller version of what he gave her. My mother thought this was “just precious”, her words, I would never say anything so stupid. I remember hearing Chase ask my mother one night when I got up to use the bathroom, why she was still single when they met. He exclaimed that he just couldn’t believe someone like her, a beauty beyond compare, (yes, eye roll), could never be snatched up by some Persian Prince or some other foolish and ridiculous thing he liked to say. My mother always gushed and giggled; I always rolled my eyes. I listened a moment to hear her response, a wicked smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “I don’t know Chase. Apparently something is wrong with me, because just as soon as things start getting serious, they all run off.” Her voice sounded melodic with a touch of sadness. I dropped my smile as quickly as it had formed. Why was she sad? She had me! I was supposed to be her number one; her most important thing. Yet, here she was sounding sad at the loss of mere men that baby talked her daughter all while trying to steal her away from me. I heard her say it over and over. Even before I was born she told me that she would always rub her belly and say that I was the most important thing in her life; in the world to her! She kept saying that until I got to about 7 and she started dating Donald. Suddenly, she was missing some of my nightly tuck ins some nights and even forgetting to buy me ice cream when I cleaned my room all by myself. It was infuriating. When I would ask her about it, she said that, “Of course you’re still my favorite thing in the whole world, but I like, (insert name of creep here), too.” She then went on to say that she was lonely; LONELY! Of all the things she could have said, even with me, “her most important thing” she said she was lonely! When I prodded, saying that she had me and didn’t need to be lonely she actually stated: “Ah, my little Mayflower, of course I love having you around, you make everything better, but mommy needs someone just for her too. Someone who loves her and will take care of her like she does you.” I became depressed and stopped eating. I refused to leave my room until my mother came in and told me it would be alright and that she would get rid of Donald and we could be happy again. But she didn’t. She actually got mad at me and told me I was being childish and selfish! SHE was the one that was being selfish, she was the one that was leaving me alone in my room while she had wine on the couch while she watched a movie with Donald! That’s when Teddy arrived. I was sitting in my room one night, listening to my mother and Donald laugh and talk while watching some cheesy movie. Donald liked the worst old movies ever. I was imagining how I might get him to go away, when I heard it. There was a giggle coming from my closet. I was really scared at first; I had always worried that there was a monster in my closet, but now I was hearing one for real! I got ready to scream for my mother, maybe then she would get rid of Donald and spend more time with me again if she knew there was a monster in my closet. But then I heard a raspy voice whisper, “Don’t scream, I’m your friend.” I wasn’t sure what to think. There really was a monster in my closet, but he said he was my friend. I’m braver than most children, so I didn’t scream. Instead, I watched as the door opened and a big monster man wearing dusty black clothes and an old fishing hat from those stupid movies Donald liked, slowly emerged from the darkness. “I’m Teddy.” The impossibly dirty monster said raising his head slightly to look at me. I saw only one eye, it was dark and bloodshot. The other one was under an equally dirty eye-patch. “What happened to your eye?” I asked him. His long faded black coat swiveled against the ground as he shuffled slowly toward me. “I’m a pirate.” He stated blankly. “Need one good eye for the dark.” I giggled a little at this, and Teddy seemed pleased. “Do you live in my closet?” I asked him. He glanced around my room silently before saying: “No, I come from somewhere else. I’m only here for food.” I perked up then, my mother had made a really good chicken casserole that I just knew he would enjoy. “Cool, I can go get you some food from the kitchen, my mom makes…” He brushed my words off with a single flick of his, rotted gloved, hand. “That isn’t the kind of food I’m looking for.” I could almost hear him drooling under those heavy dark clothes. “Did you come to eat me?” I asked him matter-of-factly. “Thought about it, but I like you; I think we really could be friends.” I lit up; I had never had a friend other than my mother. “Okay.” I squealed. I was incredibly excited to have a friend. To finally have someone to play with, to talk to, to tell how mean my mom was when Donald was around. A week passed and Teddy visited me very often. I told him everything and before long, he didn’t like Donald either. He told me to get Donald to come over to watch a movie one night, and gave me two pills; one for my mom’s drink and one for Donald’s. Teddy said that Donald would go away and my mother and I could be happy again. I did what Teddy told me to do and was excited to see him when he came out of the closet that night. My mother and Donald had fallen asleep early on the couch. I was a little disappointed when Teddy told me to stay in bed and that we wouldn’t be talking or playing that night. Teddy told me to roll over, close my eyes and not to open them until morning. I did until I heard some shuffling and then heard heavy footsteps making their way slowly back to my room. Teddy usually walked quietly, so I slowly rolled over a little and peeked one eye open to see what it was. Luckily it was just Teddy, but he had Donald thrown over his shoulder; carrying him like a fireman did in the movies. Teddy looked my way and smiled a big yellow-toothed grin in my direction. He put his fingers to his lips to make sure I stayed quiet and then disappeared into my closet. I only stayed there until I couldn’t hear anything anymore. Silently I tip-toed across my room, my pink pajama bottoms making a small swish as they rubbed against my legs. I slowly; oh so slowly, opened the closet door. Teddy was gone, and so was Donald. I heard my mother shifting around a little in the other room and darted back to bed. Hours later, my mother came to my room to ask me if I had heard Donald leave. I said no; I lied, sort of, I hadn’t heard him leave, but I knew he had; just not the way she wanted to know. She seemed a little upset and kept trying to call him. I wasn’t surprised when two weeks went by and nobody knew anything about Donald. I was surprised, however, at how sad my mother seemed to be. I asked her if she wanted to watch T.V., play a game or go get ice cream; all the things we used to do that made us happy, but she said no. My mother moped around for months. She called everyone that she knew, everyone that Donald knew, but no-one had seen him since the night he left out house. His cousin said that there were some clothes, a sleeping bag, a tent, and a suitcase missing from Donald’s house, but other than that; nothing. Donald’s car had disappeared with him, and police officers came to our house to ask us questions, then everything went back to normal. My mom started spending more time with me, and soon Donald was just a thing of the past. I was almost 10 when Shawn came into our lives. My mother had sworn off men after Donald took off and had been the wonderful mother I had always known and loved. Shawn, however, just kept asking my mother out until she finally said yes and started dating him. I was furious. Shawn always wore really ugly clothes, my least favorite was a green Christmas sweater that he wore all year apparently; not just at Christmas. It was the ugliest sweater I have ever seen, and I hated it almost as much as I hated Shawn. Teddy still came and talked and played with me at least once a week. He was really happy to see that he had fixed my problem. Then my mother hired Linda to watch me while she went out and had fun with Shawn. Once again I was left behind because of a man in my mother’s life. Linda was mean and made me go to my room at 6 and to bed at 7. I didn’t like her; Teddy didn’t either. My mother came home one night and found me alone, a note from Linda sat on the kitchen table that said, “I can’t do this anymore. Where is my life going? I’m sorry.”, I have never seen my mother so angry in my life. She called Linda’s parents, but they hadn’t seen her. Everyone started trying to reach her, but couldn’t. Linda’s car was gone, her phone and a few of her favorite things were missing as well. The police said it looked like a typical teenage runaway situation and that was pretty much it for Linda. A year later, after my mother had been bringing Shawn over to our house or taking me to his for their “date nights”, she told me that they were going to get married. My jaw hit my chest, bouncing slightly as I stared at her in disbelief. I didn’t know what to say; I was angry, hurt, betrayed; I was being replaced! I stormed off to my room and cried. That night, after my mother actually remembered to tuck me in, Teddy came from the closet and sat on the side of my bed. Teddy always smelled really weird, like he never took a bath and lived with dogs and fish, but I didn’t really mind. He always wore the same clothes and hat, and moved his eyepatch to his other eye when he came to see me. He was my best friend. I told Teddy everything and he said he would make it all better. A month later, Shawn left my mom and his family a note, saying something about not being happy, things moving too fast and needing some time alone to think. He took his truck, most of his clothes and his dog and was never heard from again. My mother cried for weeks. Finally she came back to me and we started trying to be happy again. On our way to grab ice cream from our favorite place in town, I saw something that caught my eye. It was an ugly green Christmas sweater. A very skinny man with an overcoat a little like Teddy’s, but not as long, was sitting in the park by a tree, eating some kind of meat. It was dirty and torn, but obviously still the same horrible sweater. My heart sank. Shawn was back. As we walked by the man, I struggled to look at his face, in the hope of making sure it wasn’t Shawn waiting on us. I looked onto the tired eyes of the, obviously homeless, man and he seemed to understand my worry. He pulled his dusty brown coat over the sweater and winked at me before going back to his meal. My mother never saw anything and I felt a massive relief wash over me; Shawn was truly gone forever and Teddy was a good monster man because he helped people in need. He solved my problems and it appeared that he solved homeless people’s problems too; there was no telling how far his goodness went. Certainly he couldn’t really be a monster, since he was so good. It was at that moment that I knew I would be alright, and I skipped home, joyfully eating my chocolate ice cream as I hummed my favorite song. Teddy didn’t visit much for a while. He said that he had some other things he had to do and would be gone for a bit. I was upset; Teddy is my best friend and I didn’t want him to go away. He assured me in that raspy whisper he speaks in, that he would be back soon, and for me to enjoy some quality time with my mother. I heard my mother giggle again. Chase had said something stupid about no man in their right mind ever leaving her, and my mother had responded with how much it had hurt, how lonely she was until she met him. She still had me, but she wouldn’t do all the things we used to do when I was little. Not until after those nasty men are gone for a long time. Even then she doesn’t always want to play a game, or go get ice cream like we used to. Teddy came back, he said that he was sorry for going away and that he would never do it again. He said that he had had another friend, another little girl like me, but that she was in a lot of trouble, that she was being hurt really bad by her mom and dad. Teddy said that he had to take care of her, so her did, and that was what had taken him so long. I was a little jealous that Teddy had another friend; he was my only friend in the world. The kids at school were all mean little brats that liked to dress up with makeup and “trendy” clothes. They would think that Teddy was gross and not real. The other girls think I’m a freak and don’t talk to me, and the boys are all interested in the pretty girls. I don’t mind playing alone though, it gives me time to think. Today I’ve been thinking about my mother and how sad she’s going to be tomorrow. I hate it when she is sad, she cries a lot and doesn’t spend much time with me. When she does, she is always sad and no fun. But, hopefully with a little time and me staying close to her and telling her how much I love her and that I am the most important thing in her life; the only thing she needs, she will come back around. Teddy said tonight he would bring me the sleepy pills again and I would give them to my mother and Chase, just like last time. After that, Chase will disappear like everyone else and I will finally be able to be happy again without him always calling me “squirt” or “kiddo” and trying to mess my hair up. Teddy is coming to get him and take him into the closet. I don’t know where they go from there or what happens, and I don’t care. Teddy is my best friend and I trust him to fix my mother’s and my relationship. I just want my mother back. I want the mother that took me out and played with me. The mother that played with my hair while we watched a movie and ate popcorn. I want the mother that pays attention to me when I need it, but she’s always different after her men leave her. I just hope I can get her turned back around. I really miss spending most of my time with her, and the rest with Teddy. I know she wouldn’t like Teddy, because he smells bad, dresses weird and takes people away. I wish they could be friends too, but my mother has a certain type she looks for and Teddy’s thick and filthy beard would repulse her immediately. I’m really starting to think I should have tripped her down the stairs instead of my dad. >Word from Author: I do authorize this story to be used in Youtube readings, just please send me a link so I can send you some love.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5eg80k/the_closet/

freehorrorstories

DarkRayvyn

(TRUE)Man In My House Dont Come Back

Okay so first Ill start this off with this is TRUE and yes, I dont care if it was used, I would love it. Anyway, Ill start by saying I am a very paranoid person and the fact that I am alone home all day (I do online classes) definatley can't help. So I started online school this year and I'm not going to lie its pretty boring but I dont, mind at all really. But as a small child I have always been afraid of my house. I think it was built in the fifties, so rather new but rally broken down. Our whole basement is the size of our house, and thats where it all starts. I've always had the fear of our basement and it wasnt just that instinct fear everyone has either...I just knew it was much more than that. Our basement has no door just a long echoing stairway that you walk down. My mom sleeps down there in her room and, the laundry room etc. is also all down there, so its not like Im a complete fucking baby about it. When I walk up the stairs I see shadows darting across and I sometimes when laying in my moms bed hear footsteps comign from the nearby rooms. I know. Thats all just a nightmare for a horror finatic but an extremely paranoid person as myself. Just starting this school year my hall light outside my room has begginging to go off...even though we have cheked its fuse and changed the bulbs nothing is wrong with it. None of this had been happening since April2nd the day after my birthday when a friend and I played the Ouija board, I did everything properly did and said all the right things, mind you I had been researching to do it right for the past two years. But it worked and not many problems came too close after that except for August 2016 when it all went further downhill. Our garage door that leads to our yard is in our kitchen and I tend to hear it open a lot, and it really fucks me up. But lately eafter hearing it open so many times I have been locking it during the day and before I go to bed (Also nobody not even me or my family have a key to it) This door is extremely loud and creaky so you know when it is open. I have two great danes and we usually sit in my living room while I work and, you cant see the kitchen or anything from the angle of the room, and I began keeping a tazor (5,000 vltz.) with me at all times, I love it. But before that after I started locking the back door, I would hear it pop open and then I would proceed to hear footsteps through the house, frozen in fear not knowing what to do at that point I locked my door and just sat there. I know. stupid. But I always when the footsteps stop hear the door close and my yard door open and close as if somebody was leaving. One speciffic time it was around noon or so and I remember thinking my dad was home becuase what I had been hearing I yelled "HI DAD!" as my dogs went absolute fucking ape shit barking. And I heard running and the door slam as if somebody had realized I was here and ran out. A few weeks ago it was a Friday and my dad had unkown to my knowledge came home for lunch about 1 O'clock and came in shouting at me that he had just caught a man runnign out of the backyard when he pulled up. I remember when he said that I froze dead fucking about shit myself and just shut down. There had been somebody in my house all those times! So man in my house...dont come back. If you choose to use my experience please tell my I would love to see email my at [email protected] and remeber my dudes PLEASE lock your doors and be careful.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5e4lye/trueman_in_my_house_dont_come_back/

freehorrorstories

EmilyMcNeil

Man In My House, Dont Come Back.

Okay so first Ill start this off with this is TRUE and yes, I dont care if it was used, I would love it. Anyway, Ill start by saying I am a very paranoid person and the fact that I am alone home all day (I do online classes) definatley can't help. So I started online school this year and I'm not going to lie its pretty boring but I dont, mind at all really. But as a small child I have always been afraid of my house. I think it was built in the fifties, so rather new but rally broken down. Our whole basement is the size of our house, and thats where it all starts. I've always had the fear of our basement and it wasnt just that instinct fear everyone has either...I just knew it was much more than that. Our basement has no door just a long echoing stairway that you walk down. My mom sleeps down there in her room and, the laundry room etc. is also all down there, so its not like Im a complete fucking baby about it. When I walk up the stairs I see shadows darting across and I sometimes when laying in my moms bed hear footsteps comign from the nearby rooms. I know. Thats all just a nightmare for a horror finatic but an extremely paranoid person as myself. Just starting this school year my hall light outside my room has begginging to go off...even though we have cheked its fuse and changed the bulbs nothing is wrong with it. None of this had been happening since April2nd the day after my birthday when a friend and I played the Ouija board, I did everything properly did and said all the right things, mind you I had been researching to do it right for the past two years. But it worked and not many problems came too close after that except for August 2016 when it all went further downhill. Our garage door that leads to our yard is in our kitchen and I tend to hear it open a lot, and it really fucks me up. But lately eafter hearing it open so many times I have been locking it during the day and before I go to bed (Also nobody not even me or my family have a key to it) This door is extremely loud and creaky so you know when it is open. I have two great danes and we usually sit in my living room while I work and, you cant see the kitchen or anything from the angle of the room, and I began keeping a tazor (5,000 vltz.) with me at all times, I love it. But before that after I started locking the back door, I would hear it pop open and then I would proceed to hear footsteps through the house, frozen in fear not knowing what to do at that point I locked my door and just sat there. I know. stupid. But I always when the footsteps stop hear the door close and my yard door open and close as if somebody was leaving. One speciffic time it was around noon or so and I remember thinking my dad was home becuase what I had been hearing I yelled "HI DAD!" as my dogs went absolute fucking ape shit barking. And I heard running and the door slam as if somebody had realized I was here and ran out. A few weeks ago it was a Friday and my dad had unkown to my knowledge came home for lunch about 1 O'clock and came in shouting at me that he had just caught a man runnign out of the backyard when he pulled up. I remember when he said that I froze dead fucking about shit myself and just shut down. There had been somebody in my house all those times! If you choose to use my experience please tell my I would love to see email my at [email protected] and remeber my dudes PLEASE lock your doors and be careful.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5di290/man_in_my_house_dont_come_back/

freehorrorstories

EmilyMcNeil

TRUE chased by crazy cat mass murderer

I don't usually do this but this has traumatized me for a while so im gonna get it out of my system. when i was 16 years old i lived in rural area in England in a small village if you could call it that as it was nothing more than a bunch of houses with a small store. the closest school was the next town over and that was half an hour away so every morning i would have to get up at 6:00 am to catch the bus and yes it sucked. but it wasn't all bad because of the 2 other kids who lived there who were close to my age Connor and Courtney (names have been changed) Courtney was the year below me and connor was in my class. We got the bus together every morning and over the weekends and holidays we would hang out together at each overs houses or loiter around the shop until we got kicked out. Anyway at the time i had a cat which i had gotten for my 15th birthday his name was king because he looked like a king. He was a huge white cat with green eyes and an attitude. I loved that cat so much so when he went missing it fucked me up pretty good i spent weeks crying my eyes out waiting for him to come home but he never did. Soon it began going around that a lot of the neighbors cats had been disappearing as well none of them had been found on the roads so people assumed that a fox had got them. It was the weekend and me, Connor and Courtney had decided that we were bored of hanging around Courtneys. So we decided to go exploring which meant that we would walk along the back roads until we were completely lost and then try and find our way back it was stupid but fun. anyway we were going up a back road we had never been up before when we came across a path way leading off the road it was unkempt and looked like nobody had used it for years. We went down the path excited to see where it led and we were even more excited when we found an old rundown house at the end of it. The door was open and barely standing Connor carefully moved it aside and we went in. The smell was putrid and im pretty sure i retched a little everything was filthy and falling apart. Just being there gave me a weird sick feeling in my stomach something didn't feel right Courtney must have felt it too because she immediately began complaining that we should leave. I would have left if i hadn't been trying to impress connor who at the time i had a huge crush on so instead of agreeing with her connor and i called her a pussy and teased her until she agreed to come with us through the rest of the house. We went through the what looked to be the living room it was covered in dirt and piles of trash the smell got worse as we made it to the bottom of the stairs courtney made it clear that she didn't want to go up there but when we told her to wait for us there she made it even clearer that she didn't want to do that either. So we all went up together courtney clinging to my arm and me clinging to connor who went up first. At the top of the stairs there was a corridor with about 3 rooms it was just as filthy as downstairs and the smell was ten times worse. We piled in to the first room we came to pushing connor in first only for him to freeze i looked over his shoulder and nearly puked the room was full of decomposing bodys of what looked to be cats all piled up against the wall the stench was horrendous. I heard connor whisper oh shit under his breath and i guess courtney who was outside the room heard to because she loudly began asking what it was but before i could tell her to shut up from the cornor of the room came something flying through the air it hit connor straight in the chest and fell to the floor it was a decaying cat corpse and it was followed by a deranged scream of "get out!!" and from out of the same cornor stumbled a filthy old man he began to stagger towards us. we immediately got the hell out of there and i don't remember much about it other than me and courtney screaming out heads off and me tripping over one of the door frames on our way out we ran until we coudnt run anymore luckily we remembered our way back but it took us at least 30 minutes to get back home and in that time we speed walked as fast as we could jumping at every sound and of course on my part crying as i repeatedly asked him if he thought my cat was in there. Connor just kept replying that he didn't know and asking me if i thought the man had followed us. We finally made it back and ran to the closest house which one of us lived in with was courtneys we hurriedly explained what happened and courtneys mom called my mother, connors mother and then the police who came by a couple of hours later and took statements. Connor told me that they came back a few days later and said that the cats were there but there was no sign of the man. When i was visiting my mother earlier this month my boyfriend and i went to check out the house but it had been knocked down. I have no idea what that man was doing there that day or if he had killed the all the cats but i have a feeling that my cat was somewhere within those corpses and it still makes me sick to his day. There are some messed up people out there.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5dgo3y/true_chased_by_crazy_cat_mass_murderer/

freehorrorstories

abcd-13

My Brother is Missing and No-one Cares but Me

I woke up three days ago to find my brother, Tyler, missing. When I asked my parents where he was, they looked at me like I was crazy! I thought they were insane or just playing some sick prank on me, but when I went to check Tyler’s room, it was like a bomb went off in my chest. The room, which normally had a bed, a dresser and nightstand, a million posters of bikini-clad girls, surfers, ball players and rock bands all over the wall and a closet full of clothes in the floor was a sewing room. My mom always used to say that she wanted a room for her sewing, she makes quilts and hand-made clothing and sells them, but we never had enough room in our house to give one up. She usually used the office that she and dad shared, but now here was this sewing machine along the far wall by the window, and quilts covering the walls. Where Ty’s bed used to be was a long table holding more quilts, and the closet neatly held all the clothes mom either had finished or was working on. I went back to my parents and asked them with tears in my eyes if they were playing a prank on me. They said that they were not and looked at me in a very worried way. I was afraid they were going to think I really had gone crazy, so I accepted my dad’s offer of having had a bad dream and went to my room to sort through some of my pictures. Ty wasn’t in any of them, even though he had been the night before, I know because I had just taken some. I walked casually around the house, trying not to stir suspicion, and looked through all the family photos lining the walls, still no Ty. If this was a prank, it was a pretty elaborate one, I thought, but what would the point have been? It’s now been three full days and still nobody I know seems to know Tyler, or remember me having a sibling. This is a nightmare. Me and Ty fight, or fought, I guess, a lot, like all brothers and sisters do, but he’s also always been there for me. He punched Silas Wharton in the face for me in 6th grade when he wouldn’t stop making creepy sexual advances at me, (I was in 6th grade, Silas was in 12th mind you”. He let me come to his room and play video games with him when mom and dad were fighting, he even drove me to school after he got his license and didn’t worry about not looking cool. Ty is, or was? I don’t even know now, the best brother any girl could ever ask for, and now he’s gone and I’m the only one that remembers him or seems to care at all. I don’t know what to do. I can’t call the police or tell anyone else, no-one, including mom and dad, seems to know that Tyler ever existed. I can’t just go on without him like he was never here. I’m not crazy and I hadn’t just had a bad dream, I remember Ty, I remember his friends, that don’t remember him, but I wouldn’t know them otherwise, they are in much higher grades than me, yet I know all kinds of things about them. I know his teachers, his grades, his favorite food, (it was tacos), I even remember the color of his comforter. Tyler was not a figment of my imagination, he was my brother and he existed. Where did he go? What happened to him? Is he... dead or simply just no longer there? And why am I the only person that remembers him? I heard my mom tell my dad the other day, when they were talking about my outbursts of "Where is Tyler?", that she always felt like she was supposed to have a son, and Tyler is the name that she would have given him. They thought it was a little creepy, but dismissed it. His best friend, Charlie, says that Tyler sounds exactly like the kind of guy he would have hung with, and also thought it was creepy. Somewhere deep inside, they know. Tell me Redditers, please, what am I supposed to do?

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5cqa93/my_brother_is_missing_and_noone_cares_but_me/

freehorrorstories

DarkRayvyn

The laughing choldren

I just finished editing this post, I attempted to fix all typos and grammar inconsistencies as well as adding to some details of the original post. I had been so shook up when I first typed these memories out 4 days ago that when I finished I had no desire to proof read it. I'm a 32 year old man, yet it is broad daylight as i write this post because what i am about to share haunts me to this day to the point that merely thinking about or in this case typing this memory is enough to send chills down my body and make me feel like a terrified child. I have only told this story to a handful of people over the past 10 years because of how terrifying an experience it was for me, but i feel like it can be therapeutic to get it off my chest and share with others, maybe others have had a similar experience, if so please let me know. To tell this story and give it justice I have to tell you of an experience that happened 3 years before the terrifying encounter this post is about, buckle up this will be a long post but definitely not boring. My name is Joshua but I will change the names to protect the privacy of the others involved in this story. I live in Arkansas and In late 2003 near the middle of fall right before it started getting really cold my wife and I were invited to camp with a friend of mine and his gf at Sugar Loaf Lake in Oklahoma. I say camp but the actual plan was to meet at Sugar Loaf and my friend, we will call him Bob wanted to take me and my wife around to some "paranormal" places in the Sugar Loaf area. So we got there around 7 p.m. I was driving a white ford 1996 f-150, bob was driving a 1980 something white celebrity, was really a piece of crap vehicle, anywho it was late dusk becoming dark and we all climbed into Bob's car and he took us around the area, first to an old abandoned house but other than some racoons rustling around it was a 2 hour waste of time, then he took us to a grave yard that was supposed to be haunted, again a bust, then an old church that was run down and supposed to be haunted, once again, yawn!. At this point it was getting close to midnight and my wife and I were getting pretty bored and I spoke up to Bob saying man this really hasn't been that freaky of a night, that's when Bob smiled saying he was saving the best for last, he handed me a polaroid picture of a hillside covered in trees in daylight, I asked him what it was and he asked me if i saw a house or any type of light pole or anything in the picture, to which i replied no. He took the picture back and said thats because there isn't and there are no power lines either, about this time he turned down an old dirt road and past a small house then after that it was 2 miles of dirt road with woods on one side and a barbwire fence on the other with about 2 acres of field connecting to a wooded hillside, nothing to light the night except the full moon above head and the clear starry sky, after what seemed like forever he stopped the car and told us all to get out, we did as he asked, he walked us to the side of the car where the fence, field and wooded hillside was. He looked at his cell phone, which his phone and mine had no signal, this was 2003 and this area had no cell towers, but he looked at his phone and said it was 11:57 and told us all to watch the middle of the hillside. Even at complete dark i could tell this was the same field and hillside from the picture, 2 minutes go by and nothing has changed then at exactly midnight a small light flickers on in the middle of the hillside, a chill runs down my back as my wife, bob, his gf and myself watch as this small light which to me looked like an old kerosene lantern began to move, swaying back and forth, we set and watched in complete silence for what seemed like several minutes when i finally spoke up and asked what the story was with this. Bob replied he did not know but locals had told him that at midnight every night this lantern will light up and sway back and forth through the woods until the sun comes up and it disapears, nobody knew what the story was, at the time i was a 19 year old guy who didnt think anything could scare me or hurt me so since there were no houses around i yelled out "WE SEE YOU! WOW YOU ARE SO SCARY WITH YOUR LITTLE LANTERN!!!" Bob shushed me but it was too late, my wife screamed and pointed. I was laughing but my laughing stopped as i looked to the hillside to see the lantern swaying back and forth but moving down the hillside to the field at an unhuman pace, gliding it began to speed across the field towards our car, we didn't stick around to see what it was because within seconds we were in the car and flying down the dirt road back to the lake, we looked back to see the lantern moving slowly back up the hillside to where it first appeared. The ride back was silent until Bob spoke up saying crap i forgot to put gas in earlier and the only store around is closed, and if we decided to go back out anywhere it'd be best to take my truck until he could get gas in the morning, as he only had about half a quarter tank. I said ok and a few minutes later we arrived back at Sugar loaf lake, we had parked by the lake docks and we dropped my tail gate and sat and talked about what had just happened, Bob's gf was pregnant at the time and told him she was hungry, he told her we had brought some snacks but she said she needed actual food, but since the local store was closed he asked if we could take my truck to the next town over to get some food because his car wouldn't have enough gas to get us to that town, I obliged, we shut our cooler, put the tailgate up and loaded into my truck, i turned the key and nothing happened, my truck was dead, deader than dead, no ding, no lights no clicking noise nothing! for all intents and purposes you would think the alternator was out. This was strange and after the night we had it made us all feel uneasy, we got out of the truck and popped the hood, pulled Bob's car around to the front and attempted to jump my truck with his car, this is where it gets even weirder, as soon as we connect the jumper cables to his battery and mine his gf starts his car and within a second the cables in between the connectors start to smoke and in a flash of fire they burn up within seconds, the cables were nothing more than bits of melted rubber and ash with only the end clamps still on our batteries, bob runs and turns off his car and we take the clamps off our batteries. We look at each other in the eary moon and starlit night, did i mention there were no light poles around, and we both get a bad feeling at the exact same time as we suddenly realize we had been hearing a distant noise in the lake that was getting louder, it was a boat motor. Now like i said this was the time of the year it was starting to get cold, especially at night, we were bundled up as it was and we were standing still on land at night but somebody was out on a boat? after midnight? when it had to be chilly as all get out with the wind hitting them, and from the sound of this motor it was going pretty fast, but we saw nothing, that is until the boat was about 50 yards away and a very bright spotlight comes on temporarily blinding us all. Bob and I tell the women to get in his car and lock the doors, i reach into the bed of my truck and give Bob a tire tool and i pick up another (i work at a tire shop and had all kinds of tools of the trade in my truck), we are standing in front of the vehicles in the middle, the hoods up on both as the boat pulls up to the dock and 2 heavily bearded men in their 30s to 40s step out of the boat and walk up, Its hard to give an accurate description as their spotlight was still pointed at us and it covered the men in an eary shadow whilst blinding Bob and I, they look at us and at our vehicles and one glances in the direction of the car at the women then back at us and lets out a small chuckle. "You fellers got some sorta car trouble?" one asks as he lights up a cigarette. "Y-yea but its nothing we can't handle" i stammer. The guy with the cigarette sniffs the air and looks down between Bob and I's feet and sees the still smoking ashes of what wast the jumper cable, "looks like it was more than your pussy jumper cables could handle, You all need some help?, we got some tools on the boat that I think can fix you guys' problems right up" then the other man who had chuckled in the beginning says "Mmm hmm fix them right up", I am speechless at this moment probably with my mouth hanging open, i cant remember, as the two men walk back to their boat and we hear what sounds like chains rattling around as we try to make out what they are doing but the spotlight is so blinding we can barely see, but the chain noise was enough, bob looked at me and without saying a word we both jumped in his car and drove the fuck out of there. For the next few hours we drove to a populated area of houses which wasn't many in the rural area we were pretty much stuck in since we had very little fuel, but we all sat in the car mostly quiet looking around in all directions in near panic thinking at anytime those men would find us, bob would turn his lights on every now and then thinking he had seen some movement in the dark, after a while the women fell asleep and Bob and I talked about how fucking weird this whole ordeal had been and he laughs saying i told you it would be a scary night, I just didn't know it would be this sorta scary! At this point the paranormal lantern wasnt even the main thing freaking me out, but the Men never showed and eventually the morning was on its way and it was about 20 minutes until sun rise and Bob asked if I wanted to go see if the Lantern really disapears at sunrise. I asked if he was sure he had enough gas and he said yea, the local store opens up in about an hour so we will be fine, i tell him in that case then yea. We wake the women up and drive back to that hillside, we get there with about 4 minutes left until sunrise, we still see the lantern swaying in the woods. Bob looks at me and i smile and do the motion for zipping my lips and we all watch in wonder as right at sunrise the lantern slowly fades away to nothing, after this we get back in the car and drive back to the lake, feeling safer now. When we get there, there is no sign of the boat and the hood of my truck is still up and doors are still locked, on a whim I tell Bob i'm going to try to start the truck one more time before he drives us somewhere where i can get a cell signal and call for help, and i'll be damned! The Truck started right up with no hesitation or problem. We all went our separate ways, happy to have seen the sunrise and counting our blessings and swearing to leave the paranormal investigating in this area to others and swearing that we never wanted to come back to this area and run into the boat people again. However, all things fade with time, even fear and common sense, 3 years later Bob, who I havent seen in almost 2 years at that point, calls me up and says he has a proposition for me. He goes on to tell me he has a group of himself and 3 other wiccans who go out and do seance in haunted places and asked me if i would be willing to film their sessions in the haunted places for their records and that they would pay me well for my services, I am no wiccan but i have always loved the paranormal, even after what i went through at sugar loaf i still had an itch to scratch when it came to getting scared and dealing with the paranormal and the unknown and I told him yes I would love to film for them but I had no interest in joining in that i was ok with watching and just getting to be out there looking into the paranormal again. So of course my next question was when and where are we going to be doing this at first. When he answered me I got a terrible gut feeling and I wish so much that I had trusted my gut and told him i had changed my mind. "Remember that Lantern Light out near Sugar Loaf?" he asked me as if there was anyway I could ever forget. "Y-y-yea" i stammered, "why do you ask". "I told my group the story and they wanna do the ritual there and see if we can contact the spirit and find out why it is there and what it wants" Bob replied. "I don't know man" I said. "Oh come on Josh! trust me you will be safe and I am going to pay you $250 just to sit there and film it!" He retorted. At the time i was about to become a father and money was tight because diapers, formula and the like cost a small fortune! Not to mention it was my first kid and my new wife's first kid so she had been going crazy spending money on not just the necessities but also buying only top of the line baby products like toys, crib, play pen, baby monitors, stroller, car seat, a combination pack and play\changing table, diaper genie and designer baby clothes.So because my wife was putting us in the poor house I had to weigh out my fear of the area he wanted to go back to with how important it was I make all the extra money I could so against my better judgement I accepted the offer and a week later I was in the same beat down Celebrity Bob was driving 3 years before, this time with Bob and 2 guys and 1 girl that were complete strangers to me, they each were dressed very gothic and had these pentagram necklaces or something of the sort. It was 11:50 when we got there and the 4 of them sat in a tight circle and i was behind them to the right about 5 feet from the barbed fence that was in front of the field that led to the hillside, and my back was to the hillside and bushes at the fence line and i was filming my friends circle as they all started chanting something....... (As I have been typing this entire post I have been getting knots in my stomach knowing that i was coming to this part of the story, this part of the story haunts my dreams and even waking hours to this day. I am going to do my best to describe how the following events unfolded though i know mere words cannot do justice to the pure terror that ensued or how horribly horrific the events sounded and were, so when reading or listening to this turn your imagination all the way up, and believe me when i say up to this point in my life i was interested in the paranormal, it was a fun hobby to go out ghost hunting or getting myself spooked or whatever but after this night i never look at the paranormal as fun or interesting anymore, i show it respect and stay as far away as possible, as much as i dread it i will now finish telling this story) .....As his group is chanting Bob lights up this huge candle in the middle of them and opens up some sort of book, its not like a scary antique spell book or anything it looks like a newer hardcover, anyways he starts reciting words from it and then he looks at his phone and tells his group to be quiet and look at the hill, i turn the camera and at midnight on the dot the lantern appears. One member of Bob's group blurts out COOL!!, I roll my eyes since the way these people were dressed and the way they carried themselves the word cool didnt seem to fit in their vocabulary. Then bob says to his group to join hands as they attempt to communicate with the spirit, I turn my back to the light and begin to film the group as they began again chanting and bob reads from the book, then they start asking questions in hopes the spirit will respond, about this time a wind picks up and bob's candle goes out, he tells everyone to hold on and tells me "cut the camera for a minute" and i oblige and stop recording and watch as Bob tries his lighter then 2 lighters from his group but none of the lighters are working, im sitting down watching the group when i start hearing a rustling behind me. I jump up leaving camera on the ground and spin around, Bob and his group are preoccupied with their candle and lighter problem and as i spin around i am blinded by the brightest light i have ever seen, what i believe was the lantern up close and personal but as quick as it appears the light is gone, and the lantern is nowhere to be seen, if it had been the lantern that blinded me it had moved from the hillside across the field and right behind me with me not realizing it within the span of maybe 30 seconds! I look around for the lantern on the hillside and nothing, its only 12:15 or so and the light has always stayed until sunrise, at this moment the wind quits blowing and i hear bob's lighter finaly flick and i see it light up, and i mutter "um guys, did you see that?" they all turn and ask what i am talking about but before I can answer them, we all are stopped dead in our tracks by a distant laughter coming from seemingly nowhere and everywhere around us but distant at the moment like far off, and this is no ordinary laughter, this laughter sounds like the laughter of hundreds maybe even thousands of children that haunts me to this very moment. As i type this I am looking around the room I am in. Whenever I think or talk about this experience I can vividly remember that terrifying sound and hear it in my head. Also it just occurred to me if you put the letter S at the beginning of laughter it spells "Slaughter"...ugh why did I just think that! The best way I can describe this Laughter is for you to imagine listening to a large group of kids singing row row row your boat, you know how one kid will start and seconds later another will join in starting at beginning of song and so on and so forth, well this sounded like i said like hundreds or thousands of children laughing, as if one would start laughing and seconds later another would, and that pattern went on in an endless loop! I'm not saying the laughter sounded like the song row row your boat I am saying they laughed in unison just like kids do when singing row row your boat, one would start then seconds later another would then another and another and another, and the laughter was getting louder, closer. There was sinister laughing, goofy laughing, giggling all around us coming from all directions, I was shaking, I could not move i was spinning around and around looking off in the distance, this couldn't be real, this sorta thing does not happen, what the fuck was happening!? I scream at Bob and his group That we need to get the fuck out of there, but they are already all running for the car, leaving their wiccan book and candle behind, and without hesitation i run after them and jump in the car just as the laughter is becoming deafening! We haul ass out of there and drive about a mile up the road and pull over as Bob is in no condition to drive as we are all freaking out, we all get out of the car pacing around the car, asking each other if we really just heard what we just heard. I tell Bob that I am sorry but i left his camera behind, he says he does not care and that he isn't going back for it, at this point i got my hands on my knees panting trying to catch my breath as i have never in my life been so terrified, that is when all of our chatter stops as we once again hear the laughter off in the distance very quietly at first but slowly getting closer and closer and louder and louder until once again it is becoming deafening. We jump back in the car and speed away. We drive about 6 miles and for the first 3 miles we can all still hear the laughter in the distance with our windows down a little, we all begin to calm a little by mile 4 when the laughter can no longer be heard but we have no intention of pulling over again and Bobs friend is in the passenger seat with his phone waiting for a signal to pop up, and at about mile 6 Bob's friend says hey I got full bars! and he hands the phone to Bob and he calls a friend of his who is into the occult and well versed and educated in it and as we are driving he is describing what happened to the lady, Bob later told me his friend told him she believed it was the Children of Hecate or something like that, I have no idea about what Hecate is but it sounded like more of a guess to me, anyways as Bob is on the phone speeding out of the area me and the 2 other people in the back seat all get a chill at the same time and the they told me later that just like me the hair on the back of their neck stood up as a loud snapping noise comes from the front end of the car and Bob's Celebrity stops dead in its tracks, and will no longer move forward. He tries everything but the car is not moving, we later discovered that a Tie Rod had snapped, anyways the friend Bob was talking to on the phone only lived about 20 minutes away from where we were and they said they were on their way. As we sat in the car nobody spoke and after about 3 minutes we saw a pair of headlights coming down the road towards us, we knew it was too soon to be Bob's friend but me and Bob thought maybe we could get a ride from a local and we all unloaded out of the car and stood in front of it waiting on the vehicle to hopefully stop. Now I cannot be certain but my gut tells me i am correct but the vehicle doesnt stop but as it comes into view it is a beat up old pick up truck and it slows down and in the truck are two men in their 30s-40s with huge beards and they stare at us and speed up after passing by, I look at Bob and before i can speak he says what i was already thinking "The Guys in the Boat!", before i can say anything back we see headlights coming from the direction the truck that passed by just went and we went still and quiet as the same guys in the same truck passed by slowly again staring at us on the side of the road.Bob called his friend back and told her to drive like hell and get here now! and hung up, 4 or 5 minutes go by and we see headlights coming, relieved we all get our stuff ready thinking it is Bob's friend, then his phone rings, it was the lady who was coming to get us telling Bob she took a wrong turn and is going to be about 10-15 more minutes before she gets there. Bob hangs up the phone and watches in terror as do I as the same truck slowly passes by again, this time with only one of the (boat)men in the truck, this time though the driver slows to a crawl and says "looks like you fellers could use some help" and then speeds up and drives off, this cemented the fact to Bob and I that we were definitely dealing with the Boat Guys but where the hell did the other guy go, why wasn't he in the passenger seat, and to make matters worse at this point something we had almost completely forgot about due to the boat men was immediately reminded to us as we begin to hear the laughter again off in the distance but all around us like before and over the next few minutes it started getting closer and closer. I am almost pissing my pants as the sound is getting deafening and we have no where to run this time, and then from behind our car off in the distance we see two sets of headlights come on and two vehicles coming towards us slowly side by side taking up the entire width of the back country dirt road both coming our way. The laughter now seems to be coming from the woods on both sides of the road we are stuck on, and the Laughing see!s to be zeroing in on us as if hundreds or thousands of children are within reaching distance of us, there is no wind, no sound other than the crunch of the tires on the rocky dirt road of the two vehicles slowly driving towards us. Wih our last shred of hope fading away into the laughter of the children and the headlights of the two vehicles surely being driven by the boat men, we are given a reprieve as at this time coming from the other direction we see another set of headlights coming fast, we hold our breath, the laughter, the boat men, what could be next, how will we get out of this, and that is when the vehicle that was coming fast pulls up and it is Bob's friend, she unlocks the doors on her car and rolls her windows down and begins to tell us to get in, when this happens the two sets of headlights coming from other direction turn off and bob's friend says "OH MY GOD" you weren't kidding about the laughing kids she screams at us to get in and we do, we begin to tell her about the boat guys and she turns the car around and no sooner than she starts to drive away the two sets of headlights come on again this time with their brights on and they are about a car lenghth behind the car we are all crammed in. I yell to the driver "GO GO GO!!!!" Channeling my inner Jeff goldbum telling her faster must go faster she floors it and for about a mile the two vehicles stay on our ass then they turn off onto a side road. For about the next 2 miles after that we can all hear the laughter still way off in the distance with our windows down, then after 3 miles the laughter was gone. To this day I have no explanation to what happened, what the laughing children were, why the laughing followed us, if the boat men were connected to all this somehow or if they were merely a coincidence that happened to terrify us at the same time as the paranormal stuff was happening, and if that is the case why did they not react to the laughing children sound?, Is the lantern connected to the laughing children or did Bob and his group mistakingly call forth the laughing children through their ritual. Like I said this happened years ago but i still feel just as terrified now when i tell people about it or think about it, I have had constant chills and goosebumps as i have written this, I am sorry for typos or grammar issues but I am a bit shaky as well, I am going to post this story as is, I hope it is readable and I hope somebody who reads this and has had a similar experience can share their story with me, in a weird way i believe that would help me deal with the trauma this experience still causes me to this day. To all of you who think the paranormal is just a fun hobby to get your thrills with, i beg of you and i warn you that we are not prepared for what is really out there, you can think nothing will scare you or harm you but you are dealing with unknown things, you have no idea how powerful or mundane the paranormal could be. If you use the paranormal as a thrill seeking hobby, just use caution and always have your vehicle checked out before hand. Oh and watch out for seemingly sociapathic hillbillies! and Laughing Children......Hope everyone who reads this sleeps well but i know that after telling my story like this that for at least the next few nights I will be getting no sleep at all. (I'm editing my post at the moment and I just remembered kind of an important coincidence, when we had driven fast away from the Lantern in 2003 after it came swooping across the field towards us the song unforgiven by Metallica had been playing on the radio, and then in 2006 when we had first heard the laughter when we were by the hillside and jumped in the car, the same song was on again, this time on a mix tape that one of Bob's fellow wiccans had made and brought)

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5cob9z/the_laughing_choldren/

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Vipdad

Apartment 208 & old mom

In 2013 I moved into an apartment in Alma, Arkansas. I'm not sure if this had anything to do with it but the apartment complex was right next to a very old graveyard. A little history on this apartment complex I had lived there 3 times before in 2003, 2006 and 2009. All 3 times I got the SAME ONE BEDROOM APARTMENT #208! It was always the only one bedroom available. EACH time I would have strange things happen there, the first time cabinets would open, things would be in different places and sometimes when I'd take a shower and close my eyes I'd see the bathroom and shower covered in blood and blood coming out of shower , I'd open my eyes and it's be normal. The first time i lived there that stuff intrigued me I only moved out to move in with my gf. Alma has very few options for apartments and in 2006 when my gf and I split up I had to go back to same apartment complex and low and behold, the exact same day is split with my gf the people living in 208 moved suddenly and for the 2nd time I got the same!e apartment as 1st time, it seemed a little weird but I just wrote it off as a coincidence. This time around things were worse, I'd here movement in my walk-in closet and living room at night, the shower visions were more intense and also this was the year that the Laughing Children incident happened to me, (see my other post for Laughing Children story)😉 and also I was living here when the sleep paralysis began a few months after the Laughing Children. My first sleep paralysis episode was terrifying, I was laying asleep next to my new gf and about 1am I heard the dvd rack in living room fall and alot of dvd crashing to the floor, I was still half asleep when I looked towards my bedroom door which I kept shut and on this night I had accidentally left my bathroom and I could see the light under my door but as I turned my head to the direction of the noise and was about to holler out whose there! I heard running footsteps like a kid, then I saw the shadow of feet at base of my bedroom door in the bathroom light then I saw the feet shadow go from being on other side of my door to being on MY side of the door no filler shadow just the feet and in a blink of an eye they moved from door to my chest and disappeared. This all happened so fast I hadn't been able to move or speak but after seeing the shadow feet on my chest I went to shake my gf awake but I couldn't move my arms! So I went to say her name but I couldn't speak! So in a panic I tried to sit up but couldn't move at all!! My eyes began to get heavy and in a second I was dreaming of a shadow holding me down coveting my mouth, o fought and widened my eyes and it was still there! I am finally able to make a noise but it's just a raspy pitiful help that is barely a whisper and I am able to slightly move my finger and touch my gf, it's enough and she opens her eyes and asks me what's wrong, i let out my pitiful help again as I widen my eyes in fear at my chest, my gf starts shaking me and when I don't respond she slaps me. In an instant the shadow is gone and I'm awake able to move, my gf says she never heard the DVDs crashing and didn't see the shadow. The DVDs were all still on the rack when I go to check the living room. My gf witnessed and pulled me out of 3 more sleep paralysis episodes over the next few months before leaving me because it all freaked her out so bad. And then I moved out, fast forward to 2009, I had married in 2007 and had a son that same year and a daughter in 2009 but my wife and I split and I needed a place to stay and once again I go back to the same apartment complex, I couldn't afford anything better. Once again for the 3rd time the only open apartment is 208! But I don't wanna be homeless so I ask the landlord if I move into 208 can it be temporary and if another apartment opens up can he let me take it. He says yes and I move in, but after two weeks of bloody visions, noises and 2 more sleep paralysis episodes I move out and stay with family. My wife and I get back together, but in 2013 we split for good and I get split custody and need a local place to live, and because this time I need a 2 bedroom apartment,and knowing there is no chance of getting 208 because it's one bedroom, I go back to complex and end up getting 210!!!! Which is right next to 208! The even number apartments are on 2nd floor and odd on bottom. 210 was the only available 2 bedroom apartment so I take it and tell myself at least it's not 208. No nothing happens here at first and my kids and I really make it our home, and then it begins. One night I am in my room and it's 230 in the morning and I hear my kids banging toys around and giggling in their room and I hear their tv come on and it wakes me up. Irritated I call out "You guys are suppose to be asleep! Font make me ground you!". The banging and giggling stop but I still hear tv going and I get up and walk to their shut door still half asleep and say "ok kiddos I told you to go back to......" as I begin opening their door it occurs to me that my kids are at their moms, I had taken them back to her the evening before. A chill runs down my body as I slowly push door open to see toys strewn all over and a cartoon playing on tv, I turn the light on unplug the tv then bolt to living room shutting their door behind me. I turn all the lights on in the apartment and sit up on edge all night. Nothing else like this happens but the next week while my kids were there I'd catch my 3 year old daughter talking to somebody when my 6 year old son wasn't around her so I asked her who she talked to and she replied "my friend old mom, her kids got burned up so she is nice to me because I look like her little girl" (my daughter said this word for word and usually she couldn't talk that plain) I immediately call her mom and ask what she's been watching over there but her mom says just her cartoons. I once again got a chill down my entire body. My son never saw what Alexis saw. Over the next few !months my little girl continues to talk to and about "old mom" sometimes even pointing behind me telling me old mom is there watching me to make sure I'm a good daddy. Very creepy! Over the past few years my little girl has gotten to like spooky stuff and is fascinated with scary shows and movies but at this time!e she was only 3 and had never seen scary stuff so I was really getting concerned and had a hard time sleeping. Then one night I was reading a kids book called the monster in my closet to my kids they lay in bed and I was sitting in a chair next to her bed, at the end of the book is a page that says for the kid reading it to draw the monster in their closet, this gave me an idea. I told my daughter to draw old mom for me, she sits up I give her a pencil and the book and she says "can you move daddy she's behind you and I can't see her" I scoot away a little and my little girl looks in the direction where I sat before then looks down draws a little, looks up again then draws some more and continues to do this until she finishes. She hands me the picture, I look at it and I begin to tremble and my heart races, that weekend we moved to an apartment in the next town over. Some might say it was her imagination and she just made up the drawing but she was 3 and I believe if she made it up she wouldn't have taken her eyes off the paper as she drew but she kept looking up as she drew and that tells me she was looking at old mom whole drawing her. You will know why I moved after seeing this drawing! link to my daughter's drawing of old mom. http://imgur.com/a/a16fE

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/5coesk/apartment_208_old_mom/

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Vipdad