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The Woods Have Eyes (fiction)

I bet  there's a lot of readers that may love to go out camping like I do right????? Well with this story I'm about to tell it changed my way of camping forever. It started on a hot summer with some friends on a camping trip in the woods of Florida , yes , you can camp in Florida also folks, any who, we get to our destination to camp as we're still on the road to the site we came across an entrance that was blocked off saying " Stay Away No Trespassing" I've pointed out to my friends that entrance and what a mistake that was , because they are the most curious people I've known. You tell them not to go their and they will go anyway , so we arrived at our destination and as soon as we got off the truck they insisted to investigate the enclosed area and wanted me to tag along , I insisted not to,  but they convinced me it'll be fun and exciting , so I thought , to my luck they wanted to go after dusk yay . Here we are walking on the dirt road from our site to the closed road and hiked in , all I've notice once entering the area where the trees , they seemed dry and white like someone just sucked the life out of it , we kept walking and saw an abandoned camp site , we thought there could be some goods we can take back to our camp but there is nothing to take , suddenly we hear a deep voice saying " Get Out Now" we looked around scared and couldn't see anything in the darkness , we obviously had a flashlight with us but where no good if we cant see the idiot trying to scare us . So we tried to back track back to our campsite and realized we were walking in circles lost , I was like oohhhhh helllll nahhh i'm getting lost with these idiots mannnn , but yea I did , then another voice said " We Warned You"  damn give us a chance to get out , we are lost here helloooooo , instead of giving me a damn warning why don't you be useful and guide us out you fool????? After I shouted that only silence crept the night. Disappointed we kept on walking it seemed like hours we walk and going nowhere , there were 5 of us in the group and noticed that one of my friends went missing, we  looked all over the place and no sign of him , we shouted his name and no answer , we couldn't explain how he disappeared from us but he did , and one of the guys speaks out and said that he heard that people goes missing from this area and never been seen again , then I yelled at him telling him " don't you think you should have told us that shit before trespassing this area knowing the fact people goes missing you ass"??? I'm sorry I thought it was just some fake ass story to keep people out, he said. When I was done arguing with him I've notice again that someone else went missing  , now we're down to 3 from 5 people and i'm thinking to myself oh shit this reminds me of Predator,  Where being hunted y'all , watch out for the red light man its a laser , than we heard another voice said, " You can't escape from us" chills came down my spine when I heard that and kept on walking on the dirt road that we presumably thought was the path but when we kept following it , there was a dead end with those trees in the way , ugly white dried up trees ,  looked carefully at a tree and told the guys I saw something move , and when looked close it opened its eyes , I jumped and screamed like a bitch when I saw that and asked the guys did they see that??? and replied yes. We ran from it to the deserted campsite that was the only thing  we can get to and figured out the problem where the damn trees , it seemed that they were alive for some reason , didn't care how or why I just wanted to get out of that area asap and to top it of it was getting colder , luckily I had some matches to start a fire , as soon I've lite the match a loud scream from all around saying , "Turn It Off" , so we came to the conclusion that these things or trees didn't like fire at all , so I thought ohhhhhh your asses are so fucked not biacthes , We grabbed a lot of sticks from the bonfire where the old camIng site was and turn them on . Wow the screams that came after we lit the wood on fire , it was like being in a stadium full of demons screaming in agony and I screamed back saying bitch please I haven't even touched you yet pussys , we figured out since we have this fire we should walk back on the dirt road and see if those trees would move or we can just burn them for fun then , as we walked towards the dead end the path was open , we started to run out  until exiting the area completely , I know for a fact that no one other than us who has witnessed this event would ever believe us , but I'm glad to be alive and escaped with the 2 remaining friends We mourned for the lost ones for a while and moved on , please if an area says don enter then dont fucking enter , theirs a damn reason its their in the first place.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/cadnj8/the_woods_have_eyes_fiction/

freehorrorstories

jsnow0223

My Parents Came To Visit: I Wish They Didn't

To put it plainly, I have no idea what the hell is even happening anymore. First of all, my parents called me the other day to let me know they’re coming to visit this weekend. Sounds normal, right? Well it would be, if my parents hadn’t died in a horrific car accident with a semi truck last year. Yesterday, my little brother called me. He sounded incredibly unnerved about something, so I asked him what was wrong. “This… monster has been following me around since Wednesday.” At first I didn’t believe him, but I asked him to describe the “monster” anyway. “It has translucent white skin, unnaturally long legs, but walks on its knees, glowing yellow eyes that seemed to gaze upon his very soul, an unerring smile that stretched from ear-to-ear with dagger-like teeth, and long, lanky arms with large, clawed hands.” A wave of chills suddenly flowed over me, causing me to freeze up. I managed to regain my composure and asked him where he was when he noticed the creature. “I was walking downtown to get some food for my cat, when I noticed something moving in the parking structure across the street. I focused on it and watched for movement. That’s when I noticed a face peeking at me from around a car on the seventh floor of the structure, that godforsaken smile perpetually etched into its skull.” I was petrified just attempting to visualize this creature. “I’ve got to go, I’ll call you back later,” I said as I hung up the phone. Is he crazy? Am I crazy? I don’t even know what to believe anymore. My brother called me again. What he said sent a tsunami of pure, unrelenting fear through my entire body. “I met the monsters last night.” I was taken aback. How is he still alive? “What happened?” I asked him. “When I finally fell asleep last night after hours of tossing and turning worried about the monster, I was quickly awakened by a scraping sound. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard and sent goosebumps down my arms. I lurched forward in my bed to find the source of the sound. I looked to the window, only to see those piercing, yellow eyes staring back at me. " "I was frozen with primal fear, the most powerful emotion of all, as it slowly slid one long claw under the window and opened it. I was paralyzed as it crept through the window and into the room with me. I saw my life flash before my eyes as the monster outstretched it’s lanky arms toward me. I thought it would simply reach into my chest and tear out my still beating heart." "I was surprised when the monster gently scooped me up into its arms. It cradled me like an infant as it crept back outside through the open window. As we crept towards the forest, the creature pushed itself off of its knees. It now stood at its full height, well above the treetops." "It strode through the forest with an elegance not befitting a creature of its appearance. As it cradled me, it began to sing one of the lullabies Mother used to sing to us at bedtime. Its voice was that of a beautiful woman, but much more eery. It was as if someone had taken a recording of an opera and layered it on top of itself, as if there were hundreds of voices singing at once.” “When I awoke, I surveyed my surroundings. I was still in the woods, there was an enormous bonfire in directly in front of me, and the monster was on my left side, just staring down at me. Then, a second monster appeared behind it, much larger than the first. This one spoke in a deep voice, that, once again, sounded like a hundred voices at once. ‘My son, it has been far too long. Your mother and I have missed you dearly.’ I should have been terrified, but instead, I only felt loved. ‘We have brought you a gift.’ With this, it put forward its hand, holding in it a children’s book. It was one of the ones our father used to read us as children. As I groggily grabbed the book, the emotions I should have been feeling before hit me like a mac truck. As I began to lose consciousness, Father said one more thing. ‘Tell your brother we have a gift for him too.’”

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/c859an/my_parents_came_to_visit_i_wish_they_didnt/

freehorrorstories

Bloodhunter62

feather fingers...

well lets begin ...i'm speaking inthe name of a friend that diead not long ago ,she warned me but i think i'm next so i'm warning anyone whomight experience do not let them know that you see them ,your end is withen your actions....it started 6 years ago i used tosee a young pale floating girl in my room she didn't have eyes ,light brown hair feathery fingers if that makes sence, shewould follow me around whenever it's late or at night time ,stare at me sometimes even pet my head with these soft yet so sharp feathery hands...she's follow me everywhere but ,y parents's room for some reason and i used read reigious books called koran....every timeididshewould scream soo loudly and sometimes would even hit me not hard enough to harm me badly but enough to keep me from not reading it unless i make it to my parents room ,but she would stare at me through thier window and bother me at night ...evantually i stared losing hours of sleep ,eat less ,and she would follow me into school everyone thought i was creepy or something but she was there ....this little girl would sometimes talk to me but the only thing she says is : silence and we'll be here . i never knew who she ment by "we" .who is "we"???...i didn't think of it much untill one night she got inside my dream and she smiled which she never did before ....she puled me from my arms stronger and stronger everytime i tried to resist she took me next to a black damn hole in the wall and i yelled at her to let go ,she said :i told you we'll be here and you will be with us now . in the back or inside the wall i can make out shadows of wierdly shaped people not even sure if they were human or not i got scared and so kept resisting...she shooked me so hard then i woke up from asharp pain of both of my arms ..somehow i got cut from my elbow all theway to my wrists ,cuts so tinny andsharp from her feathery arms ....she disapeared from then and on . 5.5 years later she showed up how ever not alone this time and would follow me everywhere and scratch my arm as the days pass...day by day no one sees the cuts but me and it burns badly i feel weaker everyday and her feathery black fingers are getting sharper and stronger ...they will end me even while i'm writting this icanfeelthem floatingabove me waiting for me to fall to my feet or give up...be aware of feathery handed children ignore them as much as posiible and donot ever let them see a sighn of you noticing you ...they will never leave you alone ...until you die may faith be by your side...

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/c6z7ws/feather_fingers/

freehorrorstories

sosoXcat

A Wendigo Broke Into My House

Before I begin, I’m a 16 year old male. About 3 years ago, I was in Virginia visiting family over summer. We were right outside the D.C. area and staying in a 2 story house near the freeway. On the other side of the freeway was a forest. So my mom, her boyfriend Eric, and I were all staying with Eric’s parents. We had brought some night-vision binoculars and decided that tonight was the perfect time to use them. So, after dinner, we gear up and head out. We pass under the freeway and head into the woods. When we get about 5 minutes into the forest, we set down our bag and take out our binocs. My mom looks around with them for a while, seeing a few squirrels here and there. She gets tired of them and passes them to me. I look around for a while, being careful not to look at the freeway for fear of being blinded. I spot something behind a tree about 50 feet to our left. I concentrate on it, trying to figure out what it is. It looks like a pale, bald anorexic man looking straight at us from behind the tree. I get a bit uneasy, but I’m hesitant to believe it’s really there. I ask Eric to take a look, just in case. To my despair, he sees it too. He describes it much the same way I did. Now, Eric is a former amateur boxer and I train MMA almost everyday, but neither one of us wants to stick around with that thing. We start heading back to the house, crossing under the freeway. We take another look behind us as a car comes by. All three of us see glowing eyes lit up by the headlights on the other side of the freeway. We say fuck that and head back to the house. When we get back, Eric’s parents are asleep and my mom and Eric go upstairs to the guest room. There’s only one guest room, so I have the couch downstairs. I’m a little too excited after seeing the thing in the woods, so I end up staying up all night. Around 3 AM, I’m watching TV and start hearing footsteps above me. I immediately remember our earlier encounter and panic a little. I try to calm down and tell myself it’s just one of the dogs or maybe someone who couldn’t sleep. I keep hearing the footsteps for a while, until I hear a doorknob jiggle. I find it weird that they’re trying to open a locked door, but try to ignore it. They stop, walk around for a few more minutes, and then it’s quiet again. I stay up until the sun starts coming up and then pass out. My mom wakes me up and I remember the footsteps from the night before. I describe what happened and ask if one of them got up at anytime. She says no and I think it must have been one of the dogs. That is, until she tells me the room above me is the office. No one was in the office and the door stays locked at night. My heart sinks as I piece it all together. I don’t know if it was that thing for sure, but I think it was. I’ve done a lot of research since then, trying to figure out what that thing was that night. I found 2 creatures that seem to match it. I think it was either a skinwalker or wendigo. Whichever one it was, I’m just thankful that door was locked. I know I wouldn’t be able to fight that thing no matter how tough I am.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/c6fllf/a_wendigo_broke_into_my_house/

freehorrorstories

Bloodhunter62

[TRUE] I’m looking for a logical explanation or similar experience

So a couple of days ago my boyfriend and I were driving up his road that’s in the middle of the woods and as we turn a corner we first see the deer. The deer didn’t even flinch at our car coming up the road which was weird. Then we saw it, now I’m not normally a scared person but seeing this thing almost made me piss myself It looked as if this thing was talking to the deer. It had to be at least 8 feet tall very thin and it was all black with wings. It flew up right in front of the car and my boyfriend slammed on the breaks, turns to me and says “tell me you saw that” and asked me to describe it to him as to make sure he wasn’t going crazy. I did and we sped all the way home. This all happened in about a minute. Although it felt like longer. I was telling my dad about it and he saw the same exact creature years earlier at my sisters bus stop, he tried to convince my sister it was a garbage bag or something but my sisters response was “daddy that thing was too fast and too big to be a trash bag” and all my dad could say was “I don’t know” If anyone has any idea what this could be is appreciate a comment. I’m very skeptical about these this and am looking for a more logical explanation.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/c58lo0/true_im_looking_for_a_logical_explanation_or/

freehorrorstories

TraumaticDramatics

[True] The woman in the white dress

This happened just yesterday so its fresh in my mind. Im not quite sure what to think of it because it was just so bizarre and unbelievable. I might have just been sleep deprived. So last night at maybe 23:00 i was walking around my block. My town is relatively safe so i didnt feel in danger, plus it was a pretty night. I had been walking for around 5 minutes when a pale woman with blonde hair and a white dress caught my eye from across the street. She was about my height and looked to be around my age too. I didnt actually pay attention to her after i first noticed her. While i circled the block again, she was on the same street, a couple feet in front on me. She was standing on the curb staring at the cars passing by. (It was a main road so even that late people were still driving on it). I said hello to her and she turned her gaze to me. I couldn't see her face super well, but from what i think i saw, she had no pupils or color in her eyes. She just stared at me. After a while i asked if she was ok. She didnt respond again and simply pointed at the road. I was really confused and didn't understand. Right as a red car started coming down the road she stepped into the road. The car slammed into her and it was a bloody mess. The driver emedietly stopped and jumped out. It was a man in his mid 20s. We both spoke about it, freaking out. He called the police and i went around the car to see the state of the girl. Once i circled around the car, she was gone. Not gone as in dead, gone as in she just wasnt there. The blood on the road was gone too, but not gone from his car. After the police arrived, they concluded that it was some big hoax of a kid who didnt know what they were talking about and some guy who went along with it. The blood on the truck was brought to investigation only to be found as paint. Nothing else was put up about it. Im still not sure if what happened was real. It felt so real, but i dont believe in the paranormal. I dont know what it was. If it was just a dream or if it was real. I remember it like it was real. I feel like i cant leave the house now. I dont understand anything now and i kind of feel like im going crazy. Has anyone else experienced something like this?

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/bzv2si/true_the_woman_in_the_white_dress/

freehorrorstories

lily-draws

The old women (True)

English is not my first country language so sorry if i spell something wronge. Im from Denmark and are still 13 years old. Im was 13 years old when this happened to me. So i live in Denmark and my grandma lives in Lithuania, so every summer me and my mom take a trip over to her and live in our apartment. My mom and i live in another apartment then my grandma does. So i was playing with my 2 friends from Lithuania they were 9 and 5 years old. So they couldn’t speak so much English as i could. But we where playing with a ball at 10 pm. Then a old women start walking over to a bench and start staring at us. I didn’t think much of it so i didn’t tell my friends. Then she stands up and start coming towards us, my friends start looking at her. They run up to the door to there apartment section and hold the door open for me, they start scream that i should come over to them. I don’t know what to do, so i run in a circle to see if the old women is following me. And the next thing made me run over to my friends. She started smiling and stare into my eyes. I started running over to my friends looking behind if the women was following me. And she was still following me with that creepy smile. We locked the door then run up the stairs and looked out the window. To see if the women were there. But she had disappeared. We waited at the stairs because she had maybe waited behind the door, because you cant see them from the window. While we were waiting they told me that the women had killed a kid in the neighborhood. It was about time for me to go home. So i opened the door and looked out the door to see if there where any one. But there wasn’t anybody. So i started run up to my apartment section and tried unlocking the door but it didn’t work i started hearing someone walking towards me. I tried again and this time it worked. I started to run up to my apartment door and unlock it with my key i got in and locked the door. My mom was sleeping and I didn’t wanna wake her up to tell her about what happened because she had been really tired today. So I figured out that i would just tell her about it in the morning. So i made something to eat out of the fridge while eating i stuck my head outside the window as it is night and like looking at the stars. I stay there and eat for around 5 minutes then look down because i was done eating. But when i looked down i saw a women under a tree. She stared at me with these eyes that she wanted to kill me. I froze I didn’t know what to do as i was only 13 i took the kitchen knife and had it on me the rest of the night. And checked again if the door was loocked it was. So i went to bed opening the door to my bedroom so i could look at the door to see if anyone was trying to get in. The time went bye and i couldn’t fall asleep then i heared 3 knocks at the door I slowly started walking over to the door white i was out of my room the floor started creaking i walked over to the door very slowly i had the kitchen knife in my had if i would need it i looked out the peep hole. I didn’t see anything then a eye come out of no where and starred into my eye. I said if she would be here in 1 minute i would call the cops. I didn’t know if she would understand what i was saying because most of the people that live around here cant speak english. So i walked into my moms bedroom looking if she had woken up after i started screaming at the women. But she was still sleeping. I walked over to my bedroom and got up in my bed. I stayed in my bed for almost 2 hours afraid to sleep because i was scared that the women would try to break in, if i would fall asleep. I looked at my phone to see what the time was it was 03:00 am. I was about to fall to sleep when the door handle started to try to open. But it just went up and down as the women behind the door was trying to open the door. I just stayed there, it kept going up and down for 10 minutes. Then it stopped. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing i remember was me waking up and my mom had made some breakfast for me. While we were eating i told her about what happened to me. She didn’t believe me and just said that i have had a nightmare. Nothing ever happened again with that women but it still freaks me out what happened that night. You are maybe thinking that i am stupid. Why I didn’t call the cops but if i would call the cops I couldn’t speak with them as they don’t know how to speak in english. And i couldn’t speak Lithuania.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/bxcy6o/the_old_women_true/

freehorrorstories

-Dr0pe-

The motel I'm staying at for the night gave me a list of rules.

*The long drive home from a beautiful night out with your family; the night sky never ceased to amaze you. A compliment to sustain the amazing day you had just had. However, the drive took you longer then expected, and you knew you couldn't keep driving all night.* *As if the stars you had been admiring all night aligned, you can see in the distance a bright light. As you get closer, you see it's a motel. You count your blessings as you pulled into the car park of the motel.* *As you park your car, you can see a woman run out to your car. Her uniform is nothing to be amazed at. Scruffy and messy. You decide not to question it as you get out of the car.* "Sir, if I may." *She says, looking at you.* "I need to inform you of a set of rules we like to maintain here." *Rules? For a motel? The chill atmosphere of the night suddenly vanished, as the air became colder. The silence announces itself as you look at the woman, confused.* "For your own safety." *She looks at you, and you know she sees the nervous glare in your eyes.* "Do not be alarmed," *She walks up to you, pulling a piece of paper from her pocket.* "As long as you follow these set of rules, there will be nothing to worry about." *She hands you a piece of paper. Eerily, she stands still and quiet until you open the piece of paper, at which she begins to say the contents of the paper word for word.* Motel villa; concerning your safety. As you are a weaker specimen, we cannot guarantee your safety. However, conducted a fair amount of research for our customers such as yourself, and have complied a set of rules that we think will support you. Keep this piece of paper on you at all times. 1. Look up at the moon. Observe the phase of the moon. We very much so advise you to quickly depart to room 053 if the moon is a waning crescent. Our nocturnal residents during this moon phase typically don't take well to outsiders. 2. ONLY go to room 053. All the other rooms have been booked by our residents, and are never available to residents such as yourself. Do not go into any other room. This will either prompt our residents to enact self defense; or this action, if done on purpose, enact rule 9. Room 053 will have already been unlocked for you. 3. Do not interact with any other resident besides yourself. It is late at night and we appreciate if you didn't disturb our customers peaceful night. If you do, this will enact rule 9. 4. If any damages are reported, please note you will be investigated from a day to a month after you depart from the motel. If you are found to be guilty for the damages, you are subject to prosecution by local law enforcement, or if considered major enough, will prompt rule 9. 5. We are not responsible for any damages done to yourself or any of your belongings. Please exercise caution with your belongings, and especially yourself. 6. We advise you to take good care of any items within your room. Our cleaners are skilled, but not perfect. We allow you to make complaints about any items via our email listed on the back of this sheet, but we strongly disagree to face the cleaners directly if you see them. 7. You may leave the motel at any time, but be warned as if it is a waning crescent, you may not be allowed to depart so easily. 8. If any of our residents exits their rooms, please give them at least 2 meters of space. Personal space is important to everybody. You can note that they will also follow this rule. Be respectful, or you will enact rule 9. 9. Any sort of misconduct we deem is disturbance to our residents or our property done by you will result is personal prosecution by our enforcement department. We take pride in making a friendly and hospitable place for all our residents, and we will not tolerate such indecent behavior. 10. Please be warned that after midnight, we will shut off the outside lights in order to save power, as in accordance with new local laws. *You put the paper down, pale and shivering. Your head is cloudy with stress as you frantically look up. The girl is no where to be seen, and as you look up to the clear night sky, you realize you never needed to. A chitter from the rooftop behind you, followed by a crack of a stone falling onto the floor to the opposite side of you. As you look for your room, a crack penetrates the night, and the lights shut off, leaving you in almost pitch black.*

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/178dfqv/the_motel_im_staying_at_for_the_night_gave_me_a/

Ruleshorror

mymasterisfaster

Rules while serving at Fort Williams

Colonel Chad Chadman Commanding Officer 5th Coast Artillery Regiment Fort Hamilton, New York 11209 ​ Dear Colonel Chadman, I'd like to personally welcome you to Fort Williams! I'm extremely delighted to have you here as is everyone else. The 74th Infantry is a fine regiment and you will love it. We've all heard of your bravery during the war in Kazakhstan and your actions speak for yourself. You are a true American hero in all sense. By now you've already moved into your home down in Leipzig. It's a charming little town and I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Major Davis should have already faxed you about base etiquette and rules already. Fort Williams has stood here since the 1880s and I expect 110% from all my service members. I'm sure I don't have to worry about you too much. That being said, there are some special rules. As you know, Paiute County and five other counties in northeastern Roosevelt have been designated with a Class II Anomaly Level by the Department of Homeland Security. That means we must take special steps to ensure the safety and security of this base and its personnel. In conjunction with the Federal Anomaly Investigation Division (FAID), the military has special rules for installations in counties that are designated with a Class II level. I know that you're not really as accustomed to dealing with Anomalies out in New York the way we are here in the Rockies, and that's why I wish to inform of you these special rules. Unfortunately, your predecessor chose to ignore many of these rules and he paid the price with his life as have many other service members. Therefore, it's IMPERATIVE you follow these to the dot. **Rules while on base** 1. When you enter the base or any building on base, always ensure you scan your palm and your retina. This is to ensure that you are YOU and not something else. We learned that the hard way when an Anomaly posing as a human servicemen nearly slaughtered half the base before FAID agents could neutralize it. 2. Keep your wireless sensors on you at ALL times. This is to track your location. I understand if you are frustrated with your privacy being breached, but this is for your own safety. We don’t want servicemen disappearing again. 3. If you receive a memo or email from a “Major Mekwell”, burn/delete it and report it to special agent Jonaitis at FAID. There is no person named Mekwell on this base and we’ve been unable to trace the source of the messages. 4. Radio communication may be used while the base is at normal status. But if you notice any repeating patterns of static or strange noises, turn off the radio and immediately destroy it. Don’t speak back, or the creature on the other side will have heard you. 5. As you live off base, return to your residence before 1900. If you cannot leave, I recommend you stay on the base. It’s not safe to travel these backwater roads after dark and if you choose to, you might find yourself in danger. 6. If you’re here past your duty time, turn off ALL visible lights at 2000 sharp. Leaving a light on would be like leaving a welcome mat on your doorstep. Most windows should have automatic shutters so be sure to activate them at night. You may turn on the lights in any room with covered windows. 7. Keep a firearm with you at all times. The FAID will provide all officers on base with iridium munitions which can safely neutralize any anomalies. Any other weapons are useless. DON’T WASTE THEM. Iridium is too rare and expensive for us to replace it easily. 8. Stay clear of Basement Level 3. There’s an infestation of cockroaches. I know how much you hate those things. 9. If anyone under your command goes missing, you might get a text or memo from them asking for help. DO NOT try to look for them on your own. Most likely an Anomaly is trying to trap you. Just file a missing person’s report with the base’s law enforcement. **Rules for the Door** 1. If you see any door marked with strange, red symbols, DO NOT enter it. The scientists on base say it’s some sort of “interdimensional” gateway that randomly appears and disappears. The door will “speak” to you. It will ask you to enter. 2. If you say “yes”, or open the door inadvertently, you've allowed the Anomaly control over yourself and will be forced to walk in. 3. If you say “no” or walk away, whatever's on the other side of the door will come into our world and won't go back until it's taken you with it. You will be considered KIA in both events. 4. The only thing you can do to walk out alive is to say “I will return tomorrow.” and then leave the base immediately and report the location of the door to agent Jonaitis. 5. Do not return to the base for at least a week or until agent Jonaitis gives you permission. **Rules for town** 1. The townsfolk are friendly the most part. But all the Anomalies crawling in this corner of the state has made them paranoid. Don’t upset them. Too many drunk idiots have started brawls with locals and gotten shot for it. 2. DO NOT reveal to the locals that ordinary firearms are useless. Firearms help maintain a sense of security and if these gun nuts found out their favorite toys are useless, we could face all sorts of panic. Further yet, I don’t want to hear about any locals breaking into my base to get their hands on iridium bullets. 3. Once again, try not wander the streets at night. If you’re stuck somewhere and cannot reach home in time, STAY THERE. The only people you'll find out night are crackheads, criminals, drunks, or worse: not people. 4. It’s common to see strange lights out in the street at night. DO NOT look at them for too long. Next thing you know you’ll wake up outside surrounded by Anomalies. 5. The voices crying for help outside should be ignored. They’re not humans. Even if they are, they’re likely being pursued by an Anomaly. 6. To get in good graces with the locals, I encourage our guys to go on hunts with them. But listen to the hunters when it comes to where and what to hunt. The woods to the north of town are off limits to all. Locals report strange howling and beasts wandering the wilds at night. 7. DON’T SHOOT THE COYOTES. They’re a protected species and you don’t want the Roosevelt Park and Wildlife service suing you. 8. DON’T SHOOT THE CROWS. They serve something living in the woods and you don’t want a murder of crows grabbing and dragging you off to face whatever terror lurks in the woods. 9. If you’re hunting deer and they stand up on their hind legs and look at you, that’s a sign to leave. Don’t try to shoot it, don’t try to talk to it. Just leave. The Anomaly in the woods has seen you through its eyes and you’ve just gone from being the hunter to the hunted. 10. Recently, a new religion has begun to spread throughout Roosevelt. This so called “Church of the Dreaming God” prophecises a coming doomsday against the Anomalies. It urges its members to be armed and aggressive against anyone considered to be an Anomaly. It should be avoided at all cost. Far too many of their members disappear and while they claim them to be unfortunate circumstances, I doubt it. It’s a cult. 11. If a townsperson accuses you of being an Anomaly, stay calm and call the local law enforcement. They will confirm your identity. If the townsperson continues to be hostile, let law enforcement deal with them. Don’t cause a fight. Last serviceman who did got lynched by an angry mob. **Rules for dealing with Believers** 1. Instances of “Believers” or humans who have come into contact with Anomalies and begun to worship them have increased. Believers will try to bring other humans into their fold. How exactly this happens is unknown still, but FAID has evidence that supports the idea of it being a contact virus. You can deduce if someone is a Believer based on: 1. Muttering in unknown languages is a sign that one may have come in contact with an Anomalous Anomaly. Just make sure it’s not German before you report it to FAID. A lot of the locals speak German and we don’t want to a discrimination lawsuit again. 2. Once lively and joyous people now seem emotionless and eerily calm to a point where it’s unnerving. 3. They seem to walk and move as if they were possessed. 4. Believers caught on camera will cause glitches and visual errors. This is your best bet to determine if someone is one. 2. Believers will try to speak to you at first. They will attempt to convince you to let them shake your hand. Don’t do it. Keep your distance. If you become one of them, there IS NO CURE. 3. If you continue to refuse, the Believer will become hostile and attempt to grab you by force. Eliminate them. They are still human so conventional weapons will work. 4. Once eliminated, contact the FAID. They will dispose of the body. Do not give FAID a reason to believe you are infected or they will dispose of you too. **Rules for an Anomaly Warning** 1. An Anomaly Warning has only been issued three times in Paiute County since the National Anomaly Warning Service was founded in 1998. But in the event an Anomaly Warning is issued, refer to me for your orders. 2. Once an Anomaly Warning has been issued, the sirens in town and on base will begin to wail. That’s your cue to head to the Command Center as an officer. 3. In the case that you’re required for field operations, head to the armory. You will be issued iridium munitions and a gas mask. It is IMPERATIVE that you always keep both on you. 4. ANY servicemembers found deserting or attempting to leave their post should be detained and brought back to base for punishment. 5. Turn off your radio or walkie talkie and leave it. The military will not use radios but there is something listening on the other side, and it’s not friendly. If someone contacts you on radio claiming to be me or another officer, destroy it. 6. All military communication will be carried out cellularly. Keep your phones or tablets with you at all time. 7. If you feel or see a strange mist arising, PUT ON your mask immediately. Don’t let yourself be exposed to it for too long. 8. You will be told what streets or areas to comb. STAY with your men and always ensure everyone is in sight of one another. Never go anywhere without at least two other people. 9. Anyone who is sighted outside during an Anomaly Warning that is not a police officer or military should be eliminated. It cannot be told with certainty if they are Anomalies or not. For your safety, do your job. 10. If you sight any law enforcement or service members without gas masks on, eliminate them. They are not one of us. 11. If an Anomaly is sighted, neutralize it at once using your iridium munitions. Once it’s over, report the kill to command. 12. Continue to follow orders until the Anomaly Warning ends. Stay alert and do not trust anyone except your men who have remained with you. 13. If the containment procedures fail, return to base. The military will be forced to carry out the Heracles Protocol. Once that happens, the entire area will be marked for destruction. LEAVE. Well, I hope that wasn't overwhelming! I know it can be tough moving from the security of the East Coast to a place like here. Don't worry too much however. As long as you follow the rules you will be safe! Roosevelt is a charming state and I encourage you to enjoy your stay as much as you can. At least we're not in a Class I designation. That would suck for everyone. I'd also encourage you to read these guidelines from [law enforcement on dealing with a Class II Anomaly Warning.](https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/16z0o58/rules_for_surviving_an_anomaly_warning/) While the information comes from local police in our neighboring state, it provides useful information for such an event nonetheless. I am looking forward to meeting you in person. ​ Sincerely, Paul Newman Major General, United States Army Commanding Officer Fort Williams, Roosevelt 59344

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17841g2/rules_while_serving_at_fort_williams/

Ruleshorror

Acceptable_Bullfrog3

I Work at a Hotel, I Found a Strange Set of Rules" Final Part

Part 3: Escape from the Hotel As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, my life within the hotel had become an agonizing purgatory. The weight of its rules and the foreboding aura of the place had started to take a toll on my sanity. I couldn't help but feel that I was slowly losing myself to the darkness that enveloped the hotel. Rule 57 had always intrigued me, the one about never accepting calls from Room 101. It seemed like the sort of rule that held the key to breaking free from this nightmare. And so, one fateful night, with trembling hands, I decided to challenge the hotel's malevolent forces. I waited for the front desk phone to ring, watching as "Room 101" flashed across the caller ID. Heart pounding, I hesitantly answered the call. A sinister voice whispered from the other end, filled with a chilling, otherworldly resonance. "Who dares to defy our rules?" it hissed. My body quaked with fear, but I summoned all the courage I could muster and responded, "I do. I want to leave this place." The voice on the other end chuckled darkly. "You cannot escape the Hotel, for it is a prison of your own making. But if you truly desire freedom, seek the forgotten passage." Before I could ask what it meant, the line went dead. I was left in stunned silence, realizing that the hotel was indeed a prison of my own making. The only way out seemed to be through the "forgotten passage." Over the following days, I began researching the hotel's history, its blueprints, and the mysterious passages that might hold the key to my escape. It wasn't easy, and I had to be discreet, but I was determined to break free from the clutches of this malevolent establishment. One night, as I was meticulously counting the room numbers per Rule 110, I noticed a subtle anomaly. The blueprints I had obtained indicated an unused space that should have corresponded to Room 101. It was a hidden chamber, obscured behind the grand mirror in the lobby, connected to a forgotten passage. The realization sent shivers down my spine. This was it. The forgotten passage. But to access it, I would have to remove the heavy velvet curtain and reveal the cursed mirror. With trembling hands, I uncovered the mirror and gazed into it. I could see the reflections of countless lost souls staring back at me. Determined, I pressed my hand to the mirror's surface, and a hidden door slowly creaked open. It led to a narrow corridor, cold and dank, with dimly flickering lights. I followed the passage, winding through the labyrinthine bowels of the hotel, praying that this would lead to freedom. The journey was fraught with peril, as I encountered the malevolent spirits of the hotel's past, but I pressed on, driven by an unrelenting desire to escape. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I emerged from the passage, finding myself on the other side of the hotel's walls. The night air was crisp, and I could see the world outside, free from the hotel's sinister clutches. I had done it. I had escaped the hotel. But as I walked away, I couldn't help but feel a lingering dread. The hotel's malevolence still clung to me, and I knew that the nightmares were far from over. The knowledge of its secrets and the darkness it harbored would forever haunt me. I had escaped, but at what cost? My journey continued, and the scars of my time at the hotel would forever be etched into my soul, a reminder of the horrors I had faced in that malevolent establishment. ​ ​ READ PART 1 & 2 HERE [https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/176z0x4/i\_work\_at\_a\_hotel\_i\_found\_a\_strange\_set\_of\_rules/](https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/176z0x4/i_work_at_a_hotel_i_found_a_strange_set_of_rules/) [https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/1777hk5/i\_work\_at\_a\_hotel\_i\_found\_a\_strange\_set\_of\_rules/](https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/1777hk5/i_work_at_a_hotel_i_found_a_strange_set_of_rules/) ​

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/1787cxr/i_work_at_a_hotel_i_found_a_strange_set_of_rules/

Ruleshorror

CreepyGrizzly

Welcome to the zoo! [part 1]

Hello visitors, today you will be having the best tour of your life! But before we start here’s some rules. 1. Do not feed the animals, unless you’d like to lose some fingers. 2. The souvenir shop is the safest place in the zoo. 3. Our animals are like no other! Due to the lack of research put into these animals but what we do know if that they like meat a lot any kind. 4. We are not responsible if you or a child falls into the enclosure, it’s your or the parents fault. 5. PLEASE do not mess with the snakes, they are much bigger than you and won’t hesitate to eat you whole. their stomach acid is like bathing in bleach and boiling water. 6. If an animal has escaped please inform your tour guide, they will take you to the souvenir shop where you will have to wait until the staff lets you continue. 7. Be nice to Jim, he has to clean up lots of messes here and you don’t wanna be one of the messes. 8. We do not have a staff member or tour guide named mickey that’s one of the animals who escaped, please report it to Stella and go to the souvenir shop 9. If you are rude we will feed you to the animals. 10. Say “thank you” to your tour guide for the best tour of your life! They appreciate it a lot. Oh boy looks like that’s all today! If you’re still alive I hope you had the best tour ever! I hope to see you soon as we find more new animals to add to our zoo! Until we ea- I mean meet again.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/1787rn5/welcome_to_the_zoo_part_1/

Ruleshorror

Cringexme

Sludge :O (pretty short)

*\[You are watching TV when a PSA starts playing. The person inside the video states the following:\]* Hello, Citizen. It has come to the governments attention that there is an outbreak of strange sludge being found across the Unites States. Remain calm, we are working to get this situation sorted out. In the meantime, we here at APS (Anomalous Protective Services) have worked out a few rules to keep yourself safe. **PLEASE REFRAIN FROM CONTACT WITH SLUDGE.** This is vital because the sludge is of unknown origin and will liquify your body in the matter of 3.1 seconds upon contact. **PLEASE DO NOT PUT OBJECTS INTO THE SLUDGE.** Giving the sludge sacrifices will only draw the hivemind closer to your brain. Do not put objects inside the sludge or any creatures the sludge may extrude. **PLEASE CALL 911 IF YOU SEE SLUDGE ANYWHERE.** If you see sludge anywhere, call 911 and say "SDE" (Standing for Sludge Department Emergency) and answer the operators questions. **REMAIN CALM.** The sludge may break off into tiny slugs that leech off any moderately-sized object it can find. That includes you. Do not go near the slugs under any circumstances. If it laches onto an object, simply ignore it and take the chance to run. A pack is likely coming. Thank you for your understanding. Please follow these precautions and stay safe. *\[That was strange. You get up and walk over to your kitchen, but when you look down, there are about 40 leeches holding onto your leg. You pass out.\]*

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/177feox/sludge_o_pretty_short/

Ruleshorror

AdComfortable931

"I Work at a Hotel, I Found a Strange Set of Rules" Part 2

It hasn't been long since my last update, I taught this nightmare would end but I was wrong, very wrong The longer I worked at the hotel, the deeper I descended into its sinister web. The peculiar rules, like a riddle wrapped in an enigma, continued to unravel before me, revealing new horrors and mysteries. Here are ten more rules that I discovered, each one more unsettling than the last: Rule 57: Never Accept Calls from Room 101 If the phone at the front desk rang, and the caller ID displayed Room 101, I was forbidden from answering it. The manager warned that whoever resided in that room had an insidious power over anyone who conversed with them. Disobeying this rule, I was told, would lead to a cursed connection that could consume my very soul. Rule 68: The Hotel's Mirror Must Remain Covered A grand, ornate mirror in the lobby was always covered with a heavy velvet curtain. The rulebook explained that this mirror held the reflections of lost souls, and revealing it would summon them into the world of the living. I was never to remove the curtain. Rule 79: Do Not Speak to the Elevator Operator The ancient elevator in the hotel was operated by a shadowy figure who never spoke a word. Rule 79 stipulated that I must never engage in conversation with this eerie operator. To do so would reveal a sinister secret, and those who learned it vanished without a trace. Rule 88: The Black Cat Must Never Be Chased A pitch-black cat roamed the hotel's halls, and according to the rulebook, under no circumstances should I ever chase it away. This cat was said to be the guardian of dark secrets, and disturbing it would bring unimaginable misfortune. Rule 99: The Second Staircase on the Left Must Be Avoided The hotel had two staircases leading to the upper floors, but the rulebook warned that the second one on the left must never be used. Those who climbed those stairs vanished into a shadowy realm, never to return. Rule 110: The Room Numbers Must Be Counted Daily Every morning, I was required to count the room numbers as I passed them on my rounds. If I missed a room or counted incorrectly, the hotel's layout would change, creating an endless maze of twisted corridors that trapped anyone who entered. Rule 121: The Music Box in the Attic Must Not Play There was an old music box stored in the attic, and its haunting melody echoed through the hotel when opened. The rulebook instructed that the music box must never play, as its tune could awaken malevolent spirits that would haunt the hotel. Rule 132: The Guest Registry Must Be Kept in Order The guest registry was an ancient ledger containing the names of all the hotel's visitors over the years. I was told that if the names became disorganized, the souls of the departed would rise from their slumber, seeking revenge. Rule 143: The Hotel's Portrait Gallery Must Be Dust-Free A series of portraits in the hotel's hallway depicted long-deceased guests. Rule 143 mandated that I must keep the frames dust-free, as neglecting this duty would allow the spirits within the paintings to materialize in our world. Rule 154: The Candle in Room 17 Must Never Burn Out In Room 17, a solitary candle remained perpetually lit. The rulebook instructed that the flame must never be extinguished, as doing so would unleash an unspeakable evil. I dreaded what horrors might lurk behind that door, but I knew I must never find out. My time at the hotel had become an unending nightmare, and each new rule added to the suffocating weight of my captivity. I could feel the sinister forces that bound me grow stronger with every passing day, leaving me with a haunting question: Would I ever escape the clutches of this malevolent establishment?

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/1777hk5/i_work_at_a_hotel_i_found_a_strange_set_of_rules/

Ruleshorror

CreepyGrizzly

Babysitting Rules (LONG)

Hi there, welcome to my house! Not many are willing to babysit for me so I'm glad you came. This set of rules will be helpful, so read them and don't lose them! ​ General ​ Rule 1. Knock three times on the door I should be the one to answer. 1a. If a child answers, close the door as they aren't allowed outside. 1b. If the door opens but nobody is there, slam it shut and run to your car. It is too late for us. Rule 2. Immediately remove your shoes upon entering, my eldest child likes things clean. Rule 3. It will be safe until I leave. After that, your survival revolves around staying near the cat, do not lose sight of her. Rule 4. I have three children. If there are any more or less; close your eyes, count to 100, and open them. Things should return to normal. Rule 5. I will give you a gun, keep it with you at all times. ​ The children & entities The youngest. He is relatively harmless so long as you don't give him formula, he prefers solid foods such as bread and carrots. You can play with him but don't upset him, the others are very protective. The middle child. She lives in the attic and isn't allowed out, but that won't stop her from coming downstairs occasionally. There is a small opening to slide food through, but she may use it to attack you so be careful. Feed her anything but no high sugar meals. Sugar makes her stronger. The eldest. They don't speak much, but pay attention if they do as the instructions they give may save your life. As previously noted, they like it clean and may feed you to the hounds in the basement if you don't keep the house tidy enough. They are very picky, and the list of foods for them will be found at the bottom of the page. Do not force them to eat, the entities are their friends and will take great offense to that, even more then themself. The cat. The most helpful entity, she will do her best to protect you from harm. The tall one. He is generally very polite but doesn't like strangers to look at him. If you do look at him, he will probably gouge your eyes out. The basement hounds. These entities are highly dangerous, and attack everyone except the eldest. They are the reason the basement door is locked. If you hear a scratching noise, they are right by the door so keep away. The mirrors. Ignore them. They may speak to you but all they say is lies. Do not insult them. ​ Nighttime ​ Rule 1. There are three bedrooms. Yours is the one with a red door. The children's is the one with a blue door. Mine has a black door, and you may not go inside of it. I won't take responsibility for what happens if you do. Rule 2. You must all be in your rooms by 10:00, or you will not be able to enter. Make sure to lock the door before getting in bed as doing so may save your life. Rule 3. The cat will not be able to protect you once the sun goes down but will not be harmed. You may not be as lucky. Rule 4. You should stay under the blanket, and you must stay on the bed. It's better to just go in your pants then to face the consequences of going to the bathroom. Rule 5. The middle child will leave her room between 12:00 and 2:00, you will be awakened when she does this. If you hear scratching, banging, or shaking on your door, she is trying to break in. If she enters your room, you are good as dead. Do not make a sound as this will entice her further, she is hungry. She will give up at exactly 2:00 so pray she takes her time. Rule 6. You will go back to sleep at exactly 2:30. If you wake up after this or do not fall asleep, follow these instructions. 6a. Look out the window by your bed. If the sky is red, you have angered the mirrors. If this happens, take the gun I gave you shoot yourself before they can get to you. 6b. If the sky is normal, take the sleeping pills on the table next to your bed. They will work. ​ Morning ​ Rule 7. If you have made it this far, you have survived the hardest part. Look at the clock. If it is before 7:00, wait until then to get up. I will wake you if you sleep in too much as I will be back at 8:00. Rule 8. Breakfast is at 8:30 sharp. Eat what you like except for the meat, I don't know who made it but it wasn't me. Rule 9. Leave when you like, but ideally before noon. Make sure to say goodbye to everyone, no matter where in the house you are they'll hear it. If you fail to do this, you will be unable to return and I really hope you do. ​ PS.The eldest will eat plain pasta, ceaser salad, cheese pizza, raw green olives, cheddar and crackers, and any hard candy. They will drink tap water and welch's grape juice.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17762v9/babysitting_rules_long/

Ruleshorror

SussyCat9

Disney Labs rules: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

Welcome back to Disney Labs! Today, you’ll be taking care of rejected Disney characters from our very first motion picture! You see, after the success of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs in 1937, Walt Disney wanted these cartoon characters to appear in the real world with us. So he created the very first Disney Labs in the Disney Studios, where the Animation Building is today! With some help from some of his trustworthy animators, they brought the characters from the movie to life! However, something was off. They looked a bit off model, they sounded a little weird, and they were hostile toward the humans. After an incident where Rejected Grumpy snapped an innocent animator’s neck, Walt decided that they had to be locked up away from society, where no one would ever find out about them. So like how the movie started the entire Disney movie library, the Snow White Experiments started Disney Labs! Disney Labs rules for Rejected Snow White: 1) You’ll find her in her cell asleep in a glass coffin like in the movie. PLEASE BE VERY QUIET!! She’s getting some rest. If you wake her up, she’ll force feed you the poisoned apple. True love’s kiss won’t save you now. 2) If however she wakes up on her own and she sees you, she’ll ask if you want to know a secret, and to promise not to tell. SAY YES. If you say no, she’ll drag you to a wishing well and drop you down into it. It’s not water that’s down there. 3) If you say yes, then she’ll tell you a secret about Disney Labs that’s probably not true. Probably. Just ignore what she says and don’t think about it too hard. 4) If she starts to sing, quickly cover your ears. While her singing is beautiful, it’s also hypnotic and could lead you to your death. Disney Labs rules for the Rejected Seven Dwarfs: 1) Rejected Doc is your protector, and will protect you from Rejected Snow White. Do whatever he tells you, and you’ll be fine. Refuse to follow his orders, and he’ll alert Rejected Snow White to give you a long and agonizing death 2) Make sure you stay on Rejected Grumpy’s good side. He has severe anger issues, and there’s no telling what he could do in his blind rage. Just make sure to hide and to avoid everything he throws in your direction such as pickaxes, shovels, and other mining equipment. 3) Rejected Sneezy’s sneezes are powerful but deadly. If you’re in the path of one of his sneezes, I hope you like your skin not attached to you. 4) Rejected Bashful does not like to be seen. If you accidentally look at him, then there’s nothing we can do for you. 5) Make sure Rejected Happy is ALWAYS happy and in a good mood. If he’s frowning, try your best to cheer him up. If nothing works, then let him torture you. He’ll be happy shortly after he’s done peeling off your fingernails. 6) ALWAYS MAKE SURE REJECTED SLEEPY IS SLEEPING. NEVER WAKE HIM UP. If he wakes up, then it’s too late. Pray to whatever God you believe in, and hope they make your death quick and painless. 7) Rejected Dopey is passive and won’t hurt you. Just give him lots of attention and be nice to him, and in return, he might give you a rare and exquisite Diamond. Rules for Rejected Evil Queen: 1) She’s almost always in her Hag form, which is horrifying to look at. When you see her approaching you, look away. One look at her, and you’ll die of shock. 2) If she likes you, she’ll transform into her beautiful form, and will give you a potion of sorts. Do NOT hesitate to take it. It will help you later. 3) If you do not take the potion, then she’ll hypnotize you into taking and eating the poisoned apple. 4) ALWAYS tell Rejected Evil Queen that she looks very pretty and beautiful. If she senses that you’re telling the truth, then she’ll offer you another potion. If she senses you’re lying, she’ll immediately transform into the Hag form, not giving you any time to cover your eyes. And that’s all the rules you need for the Rejected Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs characters! It’s a lot more characters than usual, but we know you can do it! See ya real soon!

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17720ca/disney_labs_rules_snow_white_and_the_seven_dwarfs/

Ruleshorror

CharlesPartridge0312

"I Work at a Hotel, I Found a Strange Set of Rules"

It all started innocently enough, as most of these stories do. I had just graduated from college and was struggling to find a job in my field. Desperation led me to accept the only offer that came my way - a front desk position at a quaint, old hotel on the outskirts of town. Little did I know that my new job would expose me to a set of rules that would turn my life into a nightmare. The hotel was a relic from the past, a beautiful, grandiose building with an eerie charm that seemed to draw people in. The staff were pleasant enough, but they all had one thing in common - an odd demeanor, as though they were always hiding something. On my first day, the manager handed me a thick, leather-bound book. "Read through these rules," he said, "they're essential to your role." The rules were unlike any I'd ever encountered, and the book itself had an aura of foreboding. As I pored through its pages, my heart began to race, and I could feel a growing sense of unease. Here are some of the strangest rules I found: Rule 1: Always Address Room 333 First The first rule was to greet the guests in Room 333 immediately upon starting each shift. The hotel had 334 rooms in total, but Room 333 had a peculiar importance. The manager warned me that failing to do so would result in dire consequences, although he wouldn't elaborate. Rule 13: Never Enter the Basement The basement was strictly off-limits. I'd heard whispers from my co-workers about strange noises coming from down there, but they would clam up whenever I asked for details. The rulebook simply stated that entering the basement was forbidden under any circumstances. Rule 22: Do Not Engage with the Clock in the Lobby A vintage grandfather clock stood in the lobby, and according to the rules, I was to avoid making eye contact with it. It said the clock was sentient and had a malevolent intent. A glance in its direction would result in hallucinations and lost time. Rule 45: The Guest in Room 13 Must Never Be Disturbed Room 13 was always occupied, but the rule was clear - under no circumstance should I ever enter that room or disturb its occupant. Curiosity gnawed at me, but I obeyed. As the weeks turned into months, I noticed odd occurrences within the hotel. Whispers in the halls, strange lights in the windows, and guests who checked in but never seemed to check out. I couldn't shake the feeling that the hotel had a dark secret, and the rules were there to protect it. One night, unable to resist my curiosity any longer, I peeked into Room 333 as I made my rounds. The moment I did, I was engulfed by a sensation of overwhelming dread. The walls seemed to close in, and I heard a chorus of eerie voices whispering in an unknown language. I slammed the door shut and sprinted back to the lobby. Time seemed to blur, and I realized that hours had passed in what felt like mere minutes. The clock in the lobby mocked me with its eerie chimes, and I understood why it was one of the forbidden rules. My time at the hotel grew more nightmarish, and I knew I had to escape. But with each passing day, the rules seemed to tighten their grip on me, making it nearly impossible to break free. The guests, the staff, the very building itself conspired to keep me within its haunted walls. As I write this, I'm still trapped in the hotel, bound by the sinister set of rules that has transformed my life into a never-ending nightmare. If you ever stumble upon a job opportunity at a peculiar hotel, beware the rules that govern it, for they may lead you down a path from which there is no escape.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/176z0x4/i_work_at_a_hotel_i_found_a_strange_set_of_rules/

Ruleshorror

CreepyGrizzly

Ugh

1: If skin starts to peel off your face, refer to rule 1 1a: You will never escape You are alone in your new walk-in closet, which you purchased at a staggering low price of §2.99! You filled it with new clothes and miscellaneous things that you couldn't find a place for, you are content with your decision of purchasing this. Closing the doors of the closet and sitting down, you bask in the warmth and light, not a single regret for this purchase! But after a good 10 minutes of relaxing, you realise you left the stove on, and you were previously baking some cookies to munch on while you watch the latest episodes of "You get up, and attempt to open the closet doors from the inside, but they seem to be stuck. You continue to shake the handle hoping for it to unlodge but no amount of struggle could ease the doors open. You think to yourself, "Don't panic, don't panic, I'll just have to find something to pry the doors open." Spinning around hastily, scouring the space with your eyes leaves you fixed on a small USB drive stuck to the wall, you didn't notice this before..? Revised_Doc_Gen72: *Poor you, did you not realise there was a flip side to this closet? Why else, would i be so frantic in selling off this hellish spawn of disease? But I got out of this situation, and so can you. It is funny how many people carry out the exact same motions of purchasing, anticipating, setting up the closet, walking inside and* **closing the doors.** *I prepared some rules and steps for escaping, thank me later!* 1: Look on the top shelf of the closet, if you get lucky the tool I used for escaping should still be in its place and you will be able to skip (most) of the rules and pry open the doors of the closet, but this is next to impossible so don't bother! 2: If your head makes contact with the top of the closet, this means you will not be able to use the method of escaping documented in this note, and you will be completely on your own figuring out another unknown way (if there is one!) 3: Hearing a siren outside means your time to escape has been slashed in two. Don't wonder how I know this, it is not important. 4: Walk into the clothes, and don't stop otherwise you will be pushed back with an incredible amount of force, slamming yourself into the wall and this could render you incapacitated. 5: If you hear voices that aren't real, but you didn't make them, they are making their way inside the closet. Since, for me, they have never infiltrated the closet when I was searching for the tool, I am unable to document what will happen to *you* when, or if they happen to successfully get inside. 6a) Reaching the end takes a long time and **you are restricted to walking, if you ran, the closet continually gets longer as you run, ending when you stop where it doubles in length.** 6b) If you manage to get to the end, you will notice. The room is pitch black, except for a moderately-sized animal (species unspecified), with a single light shining on it. The animal is unconscious. You will have to rip it apart and dig into its intestines where the pick will be hidden, beware of cutting yourself, it is **sharp.** If you feel queasy or disgusted, the only advice I can offer is pretend the animal is something else. Failure to extract the tool will result in your places being switched, the only difference being **you are conscious but restricted of movement.** 7: Once you have hold of the tool, RUN BACK AND DO NOT STOP. YOU WILL KNOW WHEN YOU HAVE ESCAPED THAT room, YOU DO NOT WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS IF YOU STAY TOO LONG. 8: Ignore this rule if you hear scratching on the doors of the closet, it is best to dig the pick into your wrist despite the effort it took to reach this. It is a better fate than facing the creature ?inside Luckily, this is extremely rare. 9: After escaping, make sure you are in your home, if not, go back inside and wait 6 **sleepless** hours. Then go outside and it will be your home Welcome back 10: Sell the closet off immediately, price it at the lowest you can, this is the only safe way of disposing of it.", your favourite show! You exit the closet and walk down to the kitchen, taking the cookies out of the oven and turning on the TV.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/1770crk/ugh/

Ruleshorror

ItsTehGamer

Rules for claiming your prize.

When I woke up this morning, something I definitely wasn't expecting was having a gun in my hand. But there I was, staring at my bedroom's door with a six shooter literally taped to my left hand. I stood up from my bed and went to the kitchen to find a knife so that I could get the damn thing off of my hand, but when I stepped into the hallway, I was greeted by red letters painted all across the wall. The sentence began at the other end of the hallway, and ended right in front of my door: "Right behind you." I turned around to see a small envelope with a red seal. I looked all around the room, but there was no one to be found. After a moment of hesitation, I picked up the envelope with my free hand, and opened it. Inside of it was a handwritten letter: "*Great job! You actually made it!"* So I made it? But what did I make? I really couldn't shake this feeling that I was forgetting something. "*I guess you've already noticed the little memento I left you? I taped it to make sure you wouldn't lose it. After all, it's very important. But let's get straight to the point. You won! Your game sure was one of the most exciting ones I've hosted in a pretty long time. As the main sponsor of this particular edition, I must personally congratulate you: even though you were given the hardest version, you still succeeded, and that is quite praiseworthy. Now the only thing left for you to do is reclaim your prize!"* Prize? Game? What was this letter talking about? Perhaps they delivered it to the wrong person? Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something I should be remembering. Something about the revolver still taped to my hand... "*Well now, there are a few instructions you must follow if you want to safely reclaim your prize, but don't worry, I'll go over them just for you.* 1) Don't lose my gift. I'd be very sad if that happened, and I'm sure you don't want me to be sad. 2) You'll only need to spend three days here before you can claim your prize! the rules below will be divided in four sections: firt is the general rules, and then specific rules for each of the nights. The system is not additive: rules from day 1 are no longer in place during day 2 and rules from day 2 are not in place during day 3. # GENERAL RULES 3) Should anyone you meet tell you anything about the rules, tell them that you don't know anything about any rules. If they keep insisting, threaten them with calling the police. If even then they continue insisting, shoot them with the revolver. Don't worry about witnesses, they won't say anything. 4) The place you're in may look like your house, but it is not. If you notice something off, such as strange furniture, misplaced doors or weird appliances, acknowledge them with a phrase such as "*that's weird*" and they should go away. 5) You may only come out during the day. Should the sun set with you outside, rush back into the house, ignore all distractions, no matter what they are, it's just jealous losers trying to keep you from claiming your prize. 6) You may speak with anyone you find during the day, except for the exceptions listed during day 1. Just talk to them normally, it's not their fault they ended up here. 7) The lights of your house will always be turned on. The only exception to this is the blackout during day 2. If you ever come back home and the lights aren't on, ring the doorbell before going in. All lights should be on again. # RULES FOR DAY 1 8) The only special rule for this day is that some weird individuals may attempt to speak to you when outside. Respond to them in the following ways 8a) If a man in a military uniform with an eagle on his cap salutes you, salute back and say "*Glory to Arstotzka*". Should you fail to salute or to pronounce the word "*Arstotzka"* correctly, run back to your house and wait there for the rest of the day. 8b) If a man wearing a medieval armor tries to speak to you, engage in conversation. Try to make it comfortable for him, he's just lonely. 8c) If you see a crying child, do not interact with him in any way unless necessary. Do never acknowledge his existance. Don't even go around him if he's in the middle of the street, just walk through him. 8d) If a girl with her hair dyed in different colors offers you "magic paper", politely decline. If she insists, take whatever she gives you, but thow it away as soon as possible. 8e) If a tall man with ginger hair dressed in strange clothes starts talking to you about sparring, put on a russian accent and say "*not today, comrade*". He'll just go away. 8f) If anyone with a blurred face talks to you, just speak to them normally. Don't ever point out that their face is blurred. # RULES FOR DAY 2 9) During day 2 there will be a "blackout": no artificial light will be present. Don't worry about it, just know you won't be sleeping home tonight. 10) Look for anyone who holds any kind of light-emmiting device, be it a lantern, a candle or even a flame in their hand. Call them Joe if it's a man and Sue if it's a woman, and ask them if you can crash at their place for the night. They will always agree and be friendly towards you. Treat them well, you don't want to anger your host. *The rules for day 3 are a little more complicated, so I'll tel one of my friends to deliver them to you later. Don't worry about anything that doesn't break the rules, you can do whatever you want.* *With my best regards* *Sofya* As soon as I finished reading the letter, I felt memories rushing back into my mind. Memories of the game and of the prize that awaited me which filled me with determination. After all, what's three more days of hell.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/176g5vk/rules_for_claiming_your_prize/

Ruleshorror

General_A-K47

The cost of money.

That wasn't so difficult, was it? Your wish has been granted, and you are now able to live as you see fit. Of course, this ritual has been of no small cost to myself, so I'll be leaving you this handy note to explain all of the new stipulations I've added to cover the cost, and how to avoid them. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Day rules: You should be safe enough during the day. None of the "friends" I borrowed from are brave enough to come out while the sun is on the horizon, so you should be fine. Rule 1: Try to stay in groups of three or more. While they prefer to come out at night, that doesn't mean they can't come out during the day. Rule 1A: Occasionally, anybody you know and are close with can become "compromised." This isn't a major issue, but you do need to know how to deal with it. Look for any deformities that wouldn't necessarily be obvious at first glance, such as new jewelry or an eye color change. Rule 1B: If you notice a friend has potentially been replaced, you need not worry. Simply separate from that person as soon as reasonably possible and return home. They will not harm you in the presence of others, but staying near them will make it easier for them to track you. When you get home, lock all doors and go to your room for the remainder of the day, and leave as little as possible. Rule 2: Don't gamble or play any games that have the potential for gambling. It may remind them of what ~~I've~~ you've taken from them. Rule 3: Stay cautious, use common sense, and be aware. These are the most common scenarios, but they aren't the only possible occurrences. I can't cover everything, so if something seems suspicious, stay away from it. -------------------‐---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Night rules: Generally speaking, the lack of light makes it easier for any bad actors to cross over to the mortal plane. Apply any rules from the daytime set to be safe. Rule 1: Between the hours of 3:00am to 3:59am You will sacrifice any warm-blooded, medium sized or above creature to me at least once a month, although I wouldn't mind more. Replenishing my power after such a deal won't be easy, after all. Rule 2: Starting at roughly 12am, and ending at around 7am, it is very important that you block off all entrances to the room that you are sleeping in. As such, it is recommended that you avoid rooms without doors. Rule 3: Use a large, weighted blanket when you sleep. Occasionally, a gust of wind may be sent through your room. The thing creating the wind is something that you really want to stay away from. Due to the limited connection to your world, without a direct line of sight, it is near impossible for it to notice you. Rule 4: Ignore whispering that doesn't belong to you, especially if it mentions anything of an unpaid debt. They are searching for you, and even acknowledging the sound they make can be dangerous. Rule 5: Nobody should ever appear at your house, at any time, for any reason, asking for me by name. If this does happen, it doesn't particularly matter if you open the door or not. You do not have long to act. Lock everything in your house that can be locked. This should clearly signal that they are not invited or welcomed. Now pray that they accept your rude dismissal. Rule 6: Keep all religious paraphernalia out of your house. I like to watch you struggle. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Admittedly, I did use outside forces to gain the power to grant you the wish, and admittedly, I wasn't necessarily given permission to use said power. But what did you expect? You made a deal with a demon. I do need to pay off my debt, unfortunately, and your soul is the easiest way. I now own it, as discussed, and the minute you pass, I am in the clear. Make no mistake, I only created this list out of obligation. You will die, and you will die soon. And when you do, I will be there to claim my prize.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/1753vwi/the_cost_of_money/

Ruleshorror

Afraid_Government_74

Rules for the spores

If your reading this the spores have arrived thankfully the SCD (spore control department) has sensors outside the safe zone which will allow you 5 minutes warning minimum. These rules for your survival. 1.Close the door, reinforce the area and take stock of your supplies. Infected will try to enter through violence,fear not your building is durable. 2. In the event you are outside when the sirens go off immediately return to your home. The ideal time is within 5 minutes. If you see red dots in the air it’s too late. Consult rule 12. 3.Don’t let them indoors after 5 minutes. No matter how much they beg or scream remember it’s too late for them. 4. Don’t drink the water unless either the TV or SCD personnel confirm it’s safety. Spores can’t survive for longer than 6 hours without a host in water or our current conditions . After the storm the water will be filtered you’ll be fine. 5. If someone comes to your door claiming to be SCD personnel make sure they are wearing a hazmat with an intact wax seal. If they don’t meet these requirements ignore them 6. Ignore the flames and the screaming.SCD personnel are merely preventing the spores from lasting a long time. 7. Our personal will not ask you to leave or to come in. If they do ignore them 8. If an SCD employee tells you that a swarm is coming in that case consult rule 10 9. If you notice any damage to your housing that exposes the outside world consult rule 10. 10. Lock yourself in a undamaged room then hide. Turn off the lights. Wait for the spores to pass. Be silent and move as little as possible. If they manage to break in consult rule 12. 11. You will know it is safe when the TV and the sirens say so. Don’t trust anyone outside who says it is safe. 12.If you suspect yourself to be infected please report to the nearest SCD official. There they will mitigate the threat it will be quick. It has been challenging since these spores have appeared 98 percent of the world population is dead. The firebombing of infected cities.the warlords and diseases.The New Earth Republic is humanities last shot of rebuilding hold strong survivors. New Bishop SCD Director Briar Lane-signing off

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/175067b/rules_for_the_spores/

Ruleshorror

International-Sir411

What to do then the sirens start

**-----***This broadcast is brought to you by the military Home Front Command***-----** These are troubling times. Death has found it's way into our homes. The following rules are provided for you, to maximize your chances of survival. Please follow them accordingly. ​ 1. Always have ample supplies for an extended time spent, in the "Safe room", up to 72 hours worth. 2. Have means of communication, as well as a radio available, in case all other means get compromised 3. If you receive a video of the corpses, or worst yet, of the living, do not share it. They want it. They feed off our fear. 4. If you hear the explosion, it is still not safe. Remain inside. Do not look to the sky. 5. If you see military vehicles outside your windows, do not trust them. They have assimilated us. Remain inside. If they are truly our own, they'll pass you by. 6. In an event that They have gotten in your home, you must already be locked in the "Safe room". If you were not, it is likely too late. 7. In the event that they have gotten in and you ARE in the "Safe room", make sure your children are not crying. Remain silent, They are hunting you. 8. Should They try and break down the door to the "Safe room", hide your kids first. 9. Should all else fail, fight for your life, and pray. May your prayers not fall on deaf ears. 10. In the event you have been captured but not killed, keep resisting no matter what. Dying is a mercy. ​ This concludes our instruction for the duration of the war. So far we have lost hundreds of brothers and sisters, dozens more still wait our rescue. Pray for them, pray for your friends, pray for your families, and god help us all. Shema Yisrael. ​ Author note - first half are actual instructions reworded for horror effect, the other half are based on the things that have happened already. Reality is the worst horror.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/174lux7/what_to_do_then_the_sirens_start/

Ruleshorror

Poxus-q

Nothing is real.

You do not have long. Do not stop reading this letter, and the moment you finish, enact the plan. You should be in a room that roughly mimics your childhood home. Do not fret. You are trapped within your own mind, but hope is not lost. You will remember. I will make you remember. Rule 1: Find the memories. You cannot let yourself forget who you are. Rule 2: Ignore the whispers. Your subconscious is telling you things that you don't need to hear. Rule 3: If the door to your room opens slightly at any time, close it immediately and barricade it with anything that you can. Until this happens, you do not need to worry, and doing anything before then will only harm you. Rule 4: A window should be directly above where your bed lies. This is the most pressing matter. Cover it with anything that you can. If I enacted the ritual correctly, a few rudimentary building supplies, such as nails, should be there to assist you. Rule 5: You are not alone in your room. Due to this, I heavily recommend that you only leave your bed if absolutely necessary. The best we can do is keep as many things out as possible. As for the things already nearby, as long as you don't move much, I believe that nothing will happen. Rule 6: I can not stress enough how important it is to keep everything out. If something happens not listed here, use common sense. This room is what makes you who you are. It is your core, your soul. You cannot lose that. Fight and struggle until you can't anymore. I'm sorry, son. When they made the offer, the one to sell your memories, they promised to keep you safe. They promised that they would only study you. They lied, and now they are trying to take you away. You... you just need to keep going, and I'll find a way to get you out, someday. I am so sorry.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/174db1h/nothing_is_real/

Ruleshorror

Afraid_Government_74

Welcome to my cabin! Here are some simple rules.

It’s currently 5:23, We’ve finally arrived after a 3 hour trip. I bet you don’t understand why you needed to close your eyes during the whole trip, b̷̷u̷̷t̷ ̷y̷̷o̷̷u̷’̷l̷̷l̷ ̷s̷̷e̷̷e̷ ̷s̷̷o̷̷o̷̷n̷ ̷e̷̷n̷̷o̷̷u̷̷g̷̷h̷. I need to go to get some.. Firewood, but i’ll explain the rules now so you can stay alone! Unfortunately, I won’t be back until 2:55 am. R1: Your room is on the SECOND FLOOR. There isn’t a third floor, and it’s very important to remember that. R1A: If you think you see a third floor, calmly get into the closest washroom and lock the door. R1B: You can sleep in any of the beds on the second floor except for any of the beds in the locked bedroom. If you manage to open the door, leave the door alone and DO NOT GO IN. I WILL SAY THIS ONE MORE TIME, ̷D̷̷O̷ ̷N̷̷O̷̷T̷ ̷G̷̷O̷ ̷I̷̷N̷. R2: You can use any of the faucets on the second floor to the first floor. Anything on the “Third floor” Or “Basement” shouldn’t be touched unless i’m in supervision R2A: don’t even think about discarding my rules. R2B: If you accidentally touch any of the objects in any of the floors i mentioned, resort to ES1. (Extra step Number 1.) R3: Do not interact with anything except for your bed after 12:36. Even the floors, walls, ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING EXCEPT FOR YOUR BED. R3A: If you accidentally interact with something not connected to the house, (Ex: Phones, jackets, wallets,) Fortunately for you, There is a way to escape miserable death. Resort to ES2. (Extra step number 2. R4: Once the clock has hit exactly 1:15, You will start to hear crying and whispers telling you to open your eyes. Keep your eyes closed. They go away by 1:25. R4A: if you open your eyes, resort to ES1. R5: Once you hear the clock make a loud bang, It is 2:00 am. You may finally get up. You may sleep in until 2:30 am. you must get up by 2:30 am. You can go downstairs and make yourself breakfast! Make 2 plates, One for you, and one for.. downstairs. Once you’re finished breakfast, throw a plate of the food into the basement and lock the door immediately after. R5A: If you forget, Resort to ES3. R6: After you eat, you will hear knocking on the door asking to come in. How matter how it sounds like, Your mom, Your dad, Me, Etc. You can ABSOLUTELY NOT OPEN THE DOOR, PLEASE. if it really was me, Just remember, I’d open the door myself. R6A: You can also not look through the peekhole. You are not ready for what you will see. Trust me. R7: After the knocking stops, Immediately check if the basement door is still locked. R7A: If it is, You may explore the house until i come back. RYB: If it isn’t, go into your room and hide either under the bed or in the top left corner. beg for your life. in 5 minutes, if you hear footsteps, he is satisfied. you are safe. if in 5 minutes you don’t, give up. you’re done for. If you’ve made it, Great job! This definitely won’t be the last time i bring you somewhere! Happy rEgards, And the Extra ruLes are below this Page! ES1: you are done for, nobody can save you, give up. you didn’t try hard enough and ignored my rules. this is the consequence. ES2: repeat €{£{|72*->€^# 3 times. AND ONLY 3 TIMES. ES3: there’s only one option, get someone else to be your sacrifice. feed them to him. (keep in mind for rule 7, if you’ve fed him, there’s a higher chance the door will still be locked.)

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/174ag6g/welcome_to_my_cabin_here_are_some_simple_rules/

Ruleshorror

Deep_Lore0

Preventing A Security Breach

Hello, employee, and congratulations on completion of your probationary term within acceptable injury levels. Our technical staffing currently exceeds the company's needs, however, so until further notice you have been assigned a night shift with our *Legacy Items Extraordinary Security* division. If you have any concerns or objections to this assignment, you can always forward a message to our Complaints Department\*. *\*Establishment of the Complaints Department pending* Your assignment will involve the careful monitoring and handling of one of our irreplaceable Legacy Items: Item 3. Item 3 is over fifty years old, so extra care must be taken by all *Legacy Items Extraordinary Security* personnel so as not to damage the Item, or be injured by the Item in the event that it comes into physical contact with personnel. Due to recent discoveries made by your predecessors, we are happy to inform you that Item 3 is accompanied by the newly identified Item 8 and Item 9. Items 8 and 9 are *not* Legacy Items. What follows is the updated list of rules specific to the handling of Items 3, 8 and 9 as of April 22nd, 2045. Please memorize these rules. Failure to memorize these rules may result in physical or psychological injury, such as is listed on pages 86 through 102 of your employment contract. Please remember that in signing your employment contract in triplicate, you have agreed not to pursue legal action against the company for any of the defined injuries or phenomena, and above all else, you have agreed not to disclose any sensitive information or specifications of our Items to anyone outside of your division. Thank you, and have a very safe employment. ​ * Do not touch Item 3. * Do not attempt to communicate with Item 3. * Avoid eye contact with Item 3. * Item 3 is to be kept under 24-hour surveillance by human eyes. Electronic surveillance cannot be trusted anymore. * In the event of a breach, Item 3 is to be neutralized with controlled shocks and returned to its containment chamber. * Following handling of Item 3 after a neutralization, involved personnel are to submit to a deep-clean decontamination shower immediately. * Item 3's vocalizations are to be ignored. * Digital locks are not to be installed on Item 3's containment chamber. * Item 3 is not to be cleaned by any means or under any circumstances, unless contradicted by at least five psych-eval personnel. * During study sessions of Item 3, two additional personnel are to monitor all technical personnel involved and ignore Item 3. Irregular behaviour or sudden movements are to be met with physical restraining and detainment of all involved technical personnel. Detained personnel are to be held in the Clean Room until psychological evaluation personnel have arrived. During psychological evaluation, security personnel are to obey all instructions given by psych-eval personnel, up to and including termination of compromised technical personnel (as elaborated on in pages 188 through 192 of employment contract). Item 3 is a physical object - however, Items 8 and 9 are not, and their presence has necessitated the updated security procedures and rules. The rules regarding Item 8 are as follows. * Ignore all electronic messages from blank contacts. Ignore all electronic messages from contacts with any of the following words in their names: Rabbit. Gold. Yellow. Bunny. White. Mask. Spring. Help. Me. DO NOT BLOCK these contacts; only ignore the messages. * If live electronic surveillance footage begins to flicker for longer than a quarter of a second, unplug the affected monitor and replace it immediately. Affected monitors are to be left in the surveillance office and reported to technical staff for pickup in the morning. * Work computers are not to be used for personal files under any circumstances. * Portable storage drives are prohibited. * Do not attempt to communicate with Item 8. Do not acknowledge any perceived direct communication attempts from Item 8. Do not make eye contact with any digital entities that do not match personnel descriptors. The rules regarding Item 9 are as follows. * Ignore all apparitions of a woman in a rabbit costume. * Avoid all forms of communication with any apparitions of a woman in a rabbit costume. * Report any personnel seen to be communicating with the empty air. * Show no reaction to suspected hallucinations or apparitions. * If experiencing persistent hallucinations or apparitions, report to psych-eval for assessment. * Do not say the name "Jeremy" while in the presence of Item 3. * Watch for signs of tampering with electronic data, such as file names. And remember to smile.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/174afpg/preventing_a_security_breach/

Ruleshorror

FuriousFinch02

Did the sky just turn red?

The sky being red is pretty normal.... Unless it's during afternoon. What's weirder is that nobody else seems to notice it, It seems you're unlucky enough to be chosen as it's next prey. Follow these rules to survive. 1.) Do not ask for help. Nobody else can help you, It's only you and these rules that can guarantee your survival. 2.) Do not drink water. All water will be contaminated and will easily cause you to faint. 3.) Avoid eating . Eating can cause you to get thirsty and if the food has moisture then you're done for. 4.) Go on with your day . This Unnatural is different than the others and won't directly attack you unless you meet some specified condition, These rules will help you avoid those conditions. 5.) Don't sleep. Sleeping will leave you vulnerable, Making you easy prey for it. 6.) About an hour before the sun sets, You may see someone who looks just like you. It's the unnatural's last resort to make you submit. Others cannot see it, So you must ignore it. Those who interacted with it were never seen again. We do not have any information on what to do if you interact with it, If you unluckily do so then please write down what happens so that we can be better equipped to deal with it. 7.) After the sun sets, you're out of danger and can go home. Do not go to the UDA office. 8.) Go to the UDA office in the morning. Due to unnatural attacks on the UDA offices at nights, It's advised not to go there after sunset and before sunrise. After surviving all that, Dying to another unnatural or an employee is not desirable, is it? -The UDA

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/173w0nw/did_the_sky_just_turn_red/

Ruleshorror

No_Competition7327

Inventation to Zaro's halloween party!

*You check your mail one morning. There's a strange envelope inside, addressed to you. It smells funny. You take it inside to open it up.* \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ Dear \[\]\[\]\[\]\[\]\[\]\[\], ​ Congratulations! You have been invited to Zaro's halloween party! ​ Time: 6pm to 10pm Address: \[\]\[\]\[\]\[\]\[\]\[\]\[\]\[\] ​ Dress up in something unusual! We request that you bring a dish of food, but that is optional. We hope to see you there! \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ ​ *Zaro? Who's Zaro? Maybe someone you know from work... you go to look up the address, but you see another piece of paper tapped to the bottom of the letter...* ​ ​ Though, since you are human (hopefully), we have a strict set of rules for you to follow. Read the list carefully and follow each rule exactly. ​ 1) Arrive to the party exactly on time. No being late. We won't let you in if you're late. ​ 2) Greet Zaro if you see him to let him know you arrived so he can adjust the dinner plans! You'll know which one is Zaro. ​ 3) You aren't required to dress up completely, but wear something orange. Orange is the most appetizing colour! ​ 4) Ignore any weird or uncomfortable stares you get from the other guests. Don't stare back. They will get offended if you stare at them. If you stare at them and they approach you, refer to rule 11. ​ 5) You don't have to bring a food dish! Your attendance alone will make up for that! ​ 6) Do not put on any type of cologne or perfume beforehand. Some of our guests might be allergic to human products. Plus, you smell good. ​ 7) Do not attempt to leave before 10pm. The guests will enjoy every moment of your presence! If you do try to leave and are stopped, refer to rule 11. ​ 8) Do not eat anything that our guests bring. You, as a human, will most likely have a severe allergic or chemical reaction to the ingredients in a worse case scenario. If you do happen to ingest something and it does not kill you immediately, do not spit it out, even if it tastes horrible. You, as a human, have different taste buds than our guests, and whoever cooked the dish will be greatly offended if you waste their food. ​ 9) If any of our guests tries to "warn" you about anything (Zaro, the food, being cooked, etc) disregard it and tell another guest immediately. They will be taken care of. ​ 10) At dinner time, climb onto the table after everyone is seated. All the chairs will fill up, so this is the only place left for you. ​ 11) If you've broken any rules, it may result in any of these outcomes: \- death \- severe injury \- being turned into food \- imprisonment for the rest of your existence \- dismemberment ​ But don't fret! You won't have to worry about breaking the rules. You were one of # humans chosen to attend this Halloween party for a reason! ​ 12) You must show up. If you do not show up, I will come get you. Be grateful I invited you. ​ Hope to see you there! \- Z

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/1741ezp/inventation_to_zaros_halloween_party/

Ruleshorror

Fazzypop

how to play the floor is lava with spirits (P.G.I chapter 1)

Welcome back, this file is focused on the 'floor is lava' invocation. As a reminder, the object you must use is something that is warm. Not hot, just warm. Once summoned, the spirit will communicate its needs using the rice grains to write. 1-If the spirit writes in a language you do not understand, say the following phrase: ‘i apologize, but i do not understand, could you please write it in english’, or in whatever language you wish to use. do not switch languages more than once. 2-the spirit will take a shape of its own this time, their shape should be relatively humanoid, it should be pretty short, too. you do not have to avoid mirrors. 3-Take off your shoes, you may keep your socks, but only ones thin enough to feel the temperature of the floor. 4-The floor will start to warm up until it is as warm as the item you chose. Once the floor starts warming up, get on some kind of item or furniture, don't touch the floor, or you'll lose. 5-small orbs will start appearing, they are half transparent and shine a bit, go and grab as many as you can, there will be a random amount (always a prime number to avoid ties.), once you touch one, it'll disappear, keep track of how many you've touched. 6-if you accidentally touch the floor, it's fine as long as you haven't felt the heat, if you did feel the heat, don't cheat, just sit down and wait for your playmate to finish. 7-once the game ends, say how many orbs you’ve got, the one with the most orb wins! Please note saying the wrong number of orbs will result in an automatic loss for you. if you win, the spirit will give you a coin of the currency you most commonly use, if they, they’ll take a random coin from your wallet/pocket/wherever you store those. 8-if the floor starts cooling down, it’s just that the item losing its heat, if that’s the case, they’ll tell you to change the item, you’ve got 5 minutes to heat it backup or find something else warm n’ nice, if you’re too slow, they risk to leave out of boredom. Once you’re done playing, go back to the summoning room, and stay ‘I'm tired, thank you for playing’. the spirit will not overstay its welcome and leave. …the following rules only apply if you’ve accidentally summoned something BAD. 9-you’ll know it’s bad when the item will heat up quickly, if it was flammable, it will definitely catch on fire, you’ll notice a lot of your furniture becoming rocks, climb on one of them. 10-the floor will become literal lava, of course, it’s just a trick, but it will still definitely burn through whatever you have as protection, only the rocks can protect you. you have to find 6 orbs. don’t waste time. 11-some creatures will try to stop you. Here's how to deal with them. 11a-sometimes, you’ll see bubbles in the lava, that’s a lava fish, just don’t move too much, you don’t want to scare it and make it jump straight into your face. 11b-if you see a face in the lava, that’s a tortured soul of the fire kind, don’t let them get close to you, they’ll drag you to their plain of existence, and this is the only time where we would recommend suicide instead of being dragged there, unless of course always feeling yourself burning forever is something you’d like. 11c-if the lava turns a purple-ish pink… try to hide somewhere. anywhere. 12-Of course, you have a playmate. they will take the shape of a humanoid made of fire, they’ll move around the house looking for you. they cannot jump, or run but they walk on the floor just fine. don’t get caught. They have quite the warm welcome. 13-once you get all the orbs, go back to the summoning room and toss the item in the lava, everything will go back to normal, the burn marks will stay though. i feel like the risks are pretty obvious, but let me remind you that being burned alive is the most pain one can feel. >!…find the keys. maybe take a look into the older posts?!<

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/1744nf3/how_to_play_the_floor_is_lava_with_spirits_pgi/

Ruleshorror

taod_game

Rules if you want to escape this fake reality.

**(Hello. We meet again, or- is it just because I live in your conscious..? Anyways, I will tell you the set of rules you must follow to survive in this fake reality. Do you have a pen and paper? Good, because I need you to write this down and keep it with you AT ALL TIMES. But remember, the F̸͎̲̮̝̤̜̳̬̬͇́̓̏̈́̈͝Ḭ̷̡̙̘͈̺͍̰͚̱̥̪̤͍̻̲̫͍̙̗̗͒̓̕Ņ̵̤̪̜̭͍̪̺̗̎͐̓͆͊̉̎͛̚D̸̮̖̤͆̃̓̄̈̎̄̓̎̌͘͜E̷̛͇̗͗̊̉̀̐̿̈̉̅̀͑͊̀̈́͠Ŗ̴̢̡͓̳͇͍̘̙̗̙͖̲͓̦̱͖̤͉̒̑͛͠ͅ is still here and looking for you, so make sure you don't fall for any of it's tricks.)** **(This time, instead of midnight hours, it will be** ***DAYS***\*\*.)\*\* **DAY 1** Rule 1. Get out of your bed, and get ready for the day. Say hello to your "Mother" and quickly exit the house, do not eat the food she offers and politely decline. This rule will repeat for everyday, so you must remember this the most. `1a) If you eat the food she gives, drink bleach. It will hurt, but it's your fault for eating the food.` Rule 2. After exiting the house, turn left. I don't know why this is an important rule, but I don't think you want to find out. Rule 3. You will pass a bench, and there is a 50% chance there will be a man reading a newspaper sitting on the bench, DO NOT PAY ATTENTION TO HIM. It is the F̸͎̲̮̝̤̜̳̬̬͇́̓̏̈́̈͝Ḭ̷̡̙̘͈̺͍̰͚̱̥̪̤͍̻̲̫͍̙̗̗͒̓̕Ņ̵̤̪̜̭͍̪̺̗̎͐̓͆͊̉̎͛̚D̸̮̖̤͆̃̓̄̈̎̄̓̎̌͘͜E̷̛͇̗͗̊̉̀̐̿̈̉̅̀͑͊̀̈́͠Ŗ̴̢̡͓̳͇͍̘̙̗̙͖̲͓̦̱͖̤͉̒̑͛͠ͅ from before, it is still looking for you. `3a) If you stare at him, he will lower his newspaper. His face will look indescribable and devour you whole.` Rule 4. You are free to do thing the whole day, but watch out for people calling your name, do not look at them and walk away. Remember, N̸͔̖͓͈̅͂̔̀̔̐̂̀͗͋̕Ō̷̢̡̨̧̪̻̪̠̖͈̦͖̬̗̻͗͋̑͋̂͜ ̶̡̘͎͊̋̓͋͛̿O̷̡̢̬̣̦̦̳̠̯͙̯̱͓͓̹͑̎̐̈́̉̎́̀̾̐͂N̸̡̢̛̹͍͉̳̙̜̥͚̪̦̦̿́͑̍̄̈́̔͝Ẹ̸̲̌̄͜ ̷̨̡̨̢̛̳̜̥̠̫͕͕̮̣̪͖̐́͋̈́̂̈͗̚͜H̷̛̦̻̼̼̓̄̾̓͋̈́̓́͋̅̈́̀Ę̴͍̫̱̥̖͈̲̮̲͈̮̐̋͒̂̎R̷̙̗͈̠͍̮̙̯̥̣̖̥̄́͆̓͛̚̕̕͝͠Ȩ̸̨̛̛̙͇͙͔̭̼̹̝̪͔̯͉̐́͂́͐́̽̾̓̈͊̊͑̚͝ ̷̧̫͙̯͈̟̥̤͇̲͕́̇̈́͊̕͜I̶̗͂̄͌̀͂̎̂S̴̨̨̡̛̞̦̗̯͔̝̦̰̠͙ ̶̨̛̪͔͉̩͍͕̝̣͍͚̳̝͋̌̌̍͆͛̅̀͊̓̕͜͠ͅḢ̵̛̭̥̞͎͈̉̈̆͐͜͜͝ͅU̸̡̞̖͔̰̠̩̹͇͈̞͓̜̖̯̓̓̄̂̓́̂M̵̢̛̛̤̻͇̻̘͔̰̜͂͐̇̏͑̂́̐͐̾͆̒̂͜͝À̵̢̟̟͓͉̺͇̲̤̻̙̪̯̻̰̳̐̒́̈́͌͌̍͘͠ͅN̴̡̛̳̺̲͈͔̻͚̗̈́͂͐͘͝. *Rule 5. If you see a truck driving by, you must yell "TRUCK - KUN!" as loud as you can.* `5a) If you see a truck driving by, you must yell "HELP ME!" as loud as you can.` Rule 6. In the afternoon, go to the central park. You will meet a brunette girl named Polly, she will be friends with you, she will be your "safe zone" in this crazy world. Rule 7. At night, go back home and up the stairs, ignore the shadow that your "Mother" is with and go to sleep. **DAY 2** Rule 1. Do the same as the DAY 1, Rule 1. Rule 2. Exit the house, but turn right this time. Again, I do not know why this rule is important but I don't think you want to find out. Rule 3. After turning right, you can do what you want to do. Go meet Polly, get groceries, whatever. But no matter what, ABSOLUTELY DO NOT LOOK INTO THE WINDOWS OF THE HOUSES. `3a) If you DO look into the windows, KILL YOURSELF IMIDIATLY. It is better than what the F̸͎̲̮̝̤̜̳̬̬͇́̓̏̈́̈͝Ḭ̷̡̙̘͈̺͍̰͚̱̥̪̤͍̻̲̫͍̙̗̗͒̓̕Ņ̵̤̪̜̭͍̪̺̗̎͐̓͆͊̉̎͛̚D̸̮̖̤͆̃̓̄̈̎̄̓̎̌͘͜E̷̛͇̗͗̊̉̀̐̿̈̉̅̀͑͊̀̈́͠Ŗ̴̢̡͓̳͇͍̘̙̗̙͖̲͓̦̱͖̤͉̒̑͛͠ͅ will do.` Rule 4. You will find a dog on the streets while walking home, but before doing anything, check what breed it is. `4a) If it is a corgi, bring it home.` `4b) If it is a doberman, RUN.` `4c) If it is a chihuahua, pet it twice and walk away.` `4d) If it is a bulldog, pet it three times and walk away.` `4e) If it is anything else, ignore it completely and walk away.` Rule 5. When you arrive home, go upstairs and lock yourself in your room, make sure to bring some supplies for yourself. `5a) if you have brought the dog home, give it to your "Mother". She will know what to do. Then sit down and eat the food your "Mother" made, because the dog will make it safe to eat.` Rule 6. In the afternoon, look outside your window. The streets will be littered with humanoid shadows, it is the F̸͎̲̮̝̤̜̳̬̬͇́̓̏̈́̈͝Ḭ̷̡̙̘͈̺͍̰͚̱̥̪̤͍̻̲̫͍̙̗̗͒̓̕Ņ̵̤̪̜̭͍̪̺̗̎͐̓͆͊̉̎͛̚D̸̮̖̤͆̃̓̄̈̎̄̓̎̌͘͜E̷̛͇̗͗̊̉̀̐̿̈̉̅̀͑͊̀̈́͠Ŗ̴̢̡͓̳͇͍̘̙̗̙͖̲͓̦̱͖̤͉̒̑͛͠ͅ's minions looking for you. Close the blinds, make sure your windows and doors are locked, and get changed into your pajamas. *Rule 7. Keep all lights on and fall asleep.* `7a) Turn off all lights and noise - making items and fall asleep.` **DAY 3** Rule 1. After you wake up, you may get dressed - but DO NOT EXIT YOUR ROOM. You may still open the door to see what has become of the house. `1a) If you hear scratching on your door, open it. It's just the dog wanting to come in.` `1b) If you didn't bring the dog home, STAY FAR AWAY FROM THE DOOR.` *Rule 2. You will hear footsteps coming up the stairs, open the door and hug your mother.* `2a) You will hear footsteps coming up the stairs, LOCK THE DOORS. She will knock on the door and ask if you're ok. DO NOT REPLY. She will go away after a while.` `2b) If the dog is in your room, it will bark. DO NOT LET IT BARK. "Mother" hates loud noises.` Rule 3. If you brought in supplies from yesterday, do not eat them. It is dangerous for you to eat it. `3a) Even if you have the dog with you, do not eat it.` Rule 4. A mystery box might appear, if it does; DO NOT go near it. It is a trick by the F̸͎̲̮̝̤̜̳̬̬͇́̓̏̈́̈͝Ḭ̷̡̙̘͈̺͍̰͚̱̥̪̤͍̻̲̫͍̙̗̗͒̓̕Ņ̵̤̪̜̭͍̪̺̗̎͐̓͆͊̉̎͛̚D̸̮̖̤͆̃̓̄̈̎̄̓̎̌͘͜E̷̛͇̗͗̊̉̀̐̿̈̉̅̀͑͊̀̈́͠Ŗ̴̢̡͓̳͇͍̘̙̗̙͖̲͓̦̱͖̤͉̒̑͛͠ͅ and will kill you. `4a) After a while, it will disappear.` Rule 5. You will hear a tapping noise at your window. QUICKLY LOOK AWAY. It is the F̸͎̲̮̝̤̜̳̬̬͇́̓̏̈́̈͝Ḭ̷̡̙̘͈̺͍̰͚̱̥̪̤͍̻̲̫͍̙̗̗͒̓̕Ņ̵̤̪̜̭͍̪̺̗̎͐̓͆͊̉̎͛̚D̸̮̖̤͆̃̓̄̈̎̄̓̎̌͘͜E̷̛͇̗͗̊̉̀̐̿̈̉̅̀͑͊̀̈́͠Ŗ̴̢̡͓̳͇͍̘̙̗̙͖̲͓̦̱͖̤͉̒̑͛͠ͅ looking to see if it can get in. Rule 6. In the afternoon, you will hear banging on your door. There will be a closet on the left side of your room, inside the closet - there will be a box, inside the box, there will be a doll. Place the doll in front of your door and it will stop. `6a) If you do not do this in time, the F̸͎̲̮̝̤̜̳̬̬͇́̓̏̈́̈͝Ḭ̷̡̙̘͈̺͍̰͚̱̥̪̤͍̻̲̫͍̙̗̗͒̓̕Ņ̵̤̪̜̭͍̪̺̗̎͐̓͆͊̉̎͛̚D̸̮̖̤͆̃̓̄̈̎̄̓̎̌͘͜E̷̛͇̗͗̊̉̀̐̿̈̉̅̀͑͊̀̈́͠Ŗ̴̢̡͓̳͇͍̘̙̗̙͖̲͓̦̱͖̤͉̒̑͛͠ͅ will be able to get in your room and finish it's job.` Rule 7. At night, you will start to feel light - headed. Lie down on your bed and go to sleep. . . . . . . . . . **DAY ..?** You wake up to the sound of your alarm clock. You did it. You survived staying up late. Congrats. . . . . . **Right..?** . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . **Right.**

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/1740ql7/rules_if_you_want_to_escape_this_fake_reality/

Ruleshorror

FrostclawsTheAnimus

Rules for NightWatch at the Mall

"Hello new employee, I have written up this letter for whoever works here after me, before I start i'd like to warn you that you may wish to read this elsewhere. The supply closet is safer than here, just be sure to knock before entering. During my time as a Mall security guard, I worked the nightshift. I also found some aspects of the mall to be rather....different, I suppose. I have taken my time to write this letter for you in hopes it may help you survive the first few nights and that you may find the job easier than I. Below is the list of rules... ​ Rule 1: Whenever you enter a room with a closed door that you cannot see into, be sure to put your ear against it first. If you hear noise, be sure to bang loudly to scare the intruders away. 𝖂𝖊 𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖓'𝖙 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 Rule 2:In the event you see several dark humanoid-shadows in your peripheral vision refer to rule 8. Rule 3:If you enter a store and it feels unnaturally cold, leave and don't come back until sunrise. Rule 4: If you begin to ponder about bad life choices and find yourself constantly thinking about bad memories which you never experienced, play the radio. 𝕴𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖈? Rule 5: If your flashlight stops working when you enter any restroom, and the lights are off, run out at fast as possible and refer to rule 8. Rule 6: If any of the rooms change, pretend not to notice. 𝓦𝓮'𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝔀𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 Rule 7: In the event the sky outside suddenly goes red, check the office. If the crucifix is upside down flip it immediately. Rule 8: If all fails, there is a locker in the office, you wont be able to open it right now but it should be fine soon. Rule 9: Any and all stores that are completely dark no matter what is tried should be marked with an X and the Manager shall board them off permanently. Rule 10: If you see a silhouette outside the glazed window in the office, turn the light off and hide under the desk till it goes away. Rule 11:If you hear whispering coming from a room, close the door to it for the rest of the night. Rule 12: If some sort of figure has gotten into the office, then i'm sorry...but you should just give up. Nothing can save you now, it'll find you and well..You don't want to know what'll happen. ​ I know these rules may be confusing but I know you can do it. It'll get easier as you get used to them.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/173c3xv/rules_for_nightwatch_at_the_mall/

Ruleshorror

Stharx

Rules if you want to stay awake.

Hello. If you are reading these rules, you cannot sleep. I am writing this note ahead of time; so I am already dead. You may be wondering why you found this note beside your lamppost, it is because you are the next victim - but do not fret, I will help guide you through the night. (might as well call me guiding light-) Before reading these rules, finish this to - do list to ensure your safety before 10 P.M. hits: Lock all windows and doors in your bedroom. This is an important rule - which I'm guessing you knew, otherwise, unwelcomed creatures may try to slaughter you. `1a) If your door or window cannot lock, move something heavy in front of it. Anything is better than letting the F̸̩̝̑͛̿̀̏̇͆̉͒̈́͂̽̕̚͠͝ͅǏ̵̡̠̫͚̮͈̳͉͍̼̭̥͑̆G̶̻̦̖̥̯͈͕̲̗̪̮̮̩̻͗̑̾̍̈́̈́̏̌U̸̝͎͈̲͍͂̀͂͂̓̄̈͠R̸̨̧͖̟͚̦̲̲͍͊̓͌͐̅̑̓Ę̷͈͉͙̜̠̥̌̀̈́̓͠.̴̡̖̜̯̫̬̋̽͆̑̃͋̓̍͂̃̍̿͌͑͆̚͜ͅ in,` 2. Keep a flashlight, spare batteries, and a clock beside you ALL TIMES. You will need these in the future. `2a) Also having a weapon by your bedside is recommended, but if you don't - just try not to die`. `2b) Keep your weapon hidden from view, as it makes passive intruders feel threatened.` 3. Check in the mirror for any "deformities" in your facial features, if anything looks even the slightest wrong, close your eyes and repeat these exact words: "I am still awake, it is not too late" and reopen your eyes, the deformities will be gone - and try not to think too much about that sentence. `3a) If it does not, KILL YOURSELF. It is already too late for you.` 4. I recommend you wear short clothes because you will be staying under your blanket for most of the night. Because if you do get out of your blanket when it's not 3 A.M. the F̴̺̩̟̺̮̤̬̈͌̅͊̉̾I̸̡̢̡͈̩̖̥̘̰̟̝̩̯̾̈́̈́̃̀̏͊̀̄̃̀̕͝͝ͅN̵̤͔̤͂̇̉̈͂̉̓̈̆̂̌͋̅͐̚͘Ḓ̸̨͎̹̜̳͓̯̺̩̩͓͕̝͉̈́͊̕Ẽ̷͔̲̩̗̹͍̋͂̒Ŗ̶̖̮̣̬̲͛̀̆̈̍̿̀̓͛̈̅̓͗̈́̓͜͠͝ will drag you away and wipe you off the face of the globe. 5. This is the most important rule of them all, DO NOT TRUST SLANTED TEXT - IT IS A TRICK BY THE F̴̺̩̟̺̮̤̬̈͌̅͊̉̾I̸̡̢̡͈̩̖̥̘̰̟̝̩̯̾̈́̈́̃̀̏͊̀̄̃̀̕͝͝ͅN̵̤͔̤͂̇̉̈͂̉̓̈̆̂̌͋̅͐̚͘Ḓ̸̨͎̹̜̳͓̯̺̩̩͓͕̝͉̈́͊̕Ẽ̷͔̲̩̗̹͍̋͂̒Ŗ̶̖̮̣̬̲͛̀̆̈̍̿̀̓͛̈̅̓͗̈́̓͜͠͝.̶̛̦̦̟͖͉͔̯̇͋͌̀̋̂̃̆̚͜͜͝. You are now ready for the night, get comfortable in your bed and cover your body with your blanket for the night - for it will be a long one. **10 P.M. - 1 A.M.** Rule 1. You may start to hear slight taps on your windows - ACT ASLEEP, the F̸̩̝̑͛̿̀̏̇͆̉͒̈́͂̽̕̚͠͝ͅǏ̵̡̠̫͚̮͈̳͉͍̼̭̥͑̆G̶̻̦̖̥̯͈͕̲̗̪̮̮̩̻͗̑̾̍̈́̈́̏̌U̸̝͎͈̲͍͂̀͂͂̓̄̈͠R̸̨̧͖̟͚̦̲̲͍͊̓͌͐̅̑̓Ę̷͈͉͙̜̠̥̌̀̈́̓͠.̴̡̖̜̯̫̬̋̽͆̑̃͋̓̍͂̃̍̿͌͑͆̚͜ͅ is there. It is checking to see if you are awake, although it will not leave easily. Rule 2. *If you hear knocking on your bedroom door, open the door immediately.* `2a) If you hear knocking on your bedroom door, cover your head with your blanket for 5 seconds, then uncover your head` Rule 3. You may hear a twinkling sound at the corner of your room, a small box would start to appear, Shine your flashlight at it before it fully appears, otherwise \*% comes out, and I cannot describe what \*% will do to you. Rule 4. It is now 12 P.M. You may wish to turn back now and fall asleep. `4a) If you do not sleep once it turns 1 A.M. you will not be able to turn back. Although this does not apply to you if you have insomnia or trouble sleeping.` Rule 5. *You may start to feel a bit lightheaded, immediately start to fight back - because it is the Dreammaker entity, it is hostile and will execute you.* `5a) You may start to feel a bit lightheaded, but don't worry - it's just the Dreammaker with you; the Dreammaker is a passive entity and is protecting you from the creatures that appear after 1 A.M.` `5b) Yet again, if you have insomnia or have trouble sleeping, this rule will not apply to you and you will fall asleep and ;÷ ;=(<%&/ ;!"( /[ =÷!) )>%÷. You will know if you are ;÷ ;=(<%&/ ;!"( /[ =÷!) )>%÷ when you hear the words whisper; "You are safe now, do not attempt this again."` **3 A.M** Rule 1. Welcome back from your sleep friend, did you sleep well? Not that I care. Well, according to the internet, this is the "Devil's Hour". But let me tell you, this is the safest hour out of any other midnight hours, go get a drink, go to the washroom - whatever you need to do. `1a) Before you go to the washroom, check under the washroom door - if you see light shining through, DO NOT GO IN. Wait for it to turn off and then you can get in.` `2a) If the light does not turn off, go grab your flashlight - then burst open the door and shine the light everywhere, it should be safe to go now.` `3a) You may only go drink water with your flashlight to ensure your safety - but DO NOT TURN ON ANY LIGHTS. If you hear whispering rapidly shine your flashlight everywhere, it will get rid of the whispers.` 4 - 6:30 A.M. Rule 1. Got everything you need? Good. Because it is almost morning, so the most dangerous things will happen. During this time you may experience insanity, hallucinations, and much - much more. The first thing that will happen is "The Viewing". You will see some shadow shapes around your room, do not pay attention to them, they are there to alert the F̴̺̩̟̺̮̤̬̈͌̅͊̉̾I̸̡̢̡͈̩̖̥̘̰̟̝̩̯̾̈́̈́̃̀̏͊̀̄̃̀̕͝͝ͅN̵̤͔̤͂̇̉̈͂̉̓̈̆̂̌͋̅͐̚͘Ḓ̸̨͎̹̜̳͓̯̺̩̩͓͕̝͉̈́͊̕Ẽ̷͔̲̩̗̹͍̋͂̒Ŗ̶̖̮̣̬̲͛̀̆̈̍̿̀̓͛̈̅̓͗̈́̓͜͠͝ if you exit your blanket. `1a) Do not react to the shadows. It will make EVERYTHING worse.` Rule 2. Your phone will be sent an amber alert, DO NOT READ IT - it is a trap by the F̴̺̩̟̺̮̤̬̈͌̅͊̉̾I̸̡̢̡͈̩̖̥̘̰̟̝̩̯̾̈́̈́̃̀̏͊̀̄̃̀̕͝͝ͅN̵̤͔̤͂̇̉̈͂̉̓̈̆̂̌͋̅͐̚͘Ḓ̸̨͎̹̜̳͓̯̺̩̩͓͕̝͉̈́͊̕Ẽ̷͔̲̩̗̹͍̋͂̒Ŗ̶̖̮̣̬̲͛̀̆̈̍̿̀̓͛̈̅̓͗̈́̓͜͠͝.̶̛̦̦̟͖͉͔̯̇͋͌̀̋̂̃̆̚͜͜͝.to get you. Rule 3. *If you hear scraping under your bed, flash your flashlight at \*%.* `3a) If you hear scraping under your bed, tap your weapon on the floorboard twice - if you don't have one, use your fist.` Rule 4. If you will hear a crying baby, SHUT YOUR EYES CLOSE IMMEDIATELY AND COVER YOUR HEAD WITH YOUR BLANKET. `4a) After the crying stops, open your eyes and remove the blanket from your head - check the outside world through your window. If it looks like daytime - LOOK AWAY. If it looks like nighttime, it's time to wake up.` `4b) If it isn't daytime, this rule will repeat until it is.` Rule 5. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. WAKE UP. WAKE UP. WAKE UP. WAKE UP. WAKE UP. WAKE UP. WAKE UP. WAKE UP. W̷̨̛̛̛̟̟̠̘̘̳̱̗͎̗̻̜͓͕͑̄̔͛́̋̃̈͑̊̂̾͊̅̀̏̉͋̈̈̄̂̓̄̎͗̀́̈́͛͑̊̿̈́̊̉͆̍́̃͑̄̋̆̄̒̎̅͊̽͂̈́͂̂̈́̏̈͂̑́̑͆͒͗̃͌̉͐͊̓̅̐͒̍͂̓̌́̓̋̌͌̓̽͂̋̊̏͛̽͘͘̚͘̕͘̕͝͝͠͝͠ͅͅĄ̴̯̰̬̫̪̟̠̣̖̼̦̦̣̝̳͓̤̻̩͙̱̠̩͎̙͖̭̝̼̯͙͕͖̤͔͉͉̯̩͗͌͋͌͗͐̇͂͒͜͜͜K̷̡̡̧̡̡̨̢̨̢̢̨̛̛̛̛̛̛̮̺̣̝͙͍̼̯̝̩͓̞̺͈̥̼̱͔̠̯͚͔͓̩̖̲͔̦̫͇̖̭͓̙͚͉̱̭̪̯̳̣̝̣̫̼̥̝̻̼̭̭͖̳͕̣̟̩̟͓͖͇͎͕͔̟̩̳̫͔̻̙̲̼͕͓̺̱̏̎̀̉̋̈́̄͑̒̾͊̃͊͂̽͗̉̀͂̀̓̊̀̇̽͊̓̍͑͛̿͐̆̈͛̂́̌͐̓̑̀̍͛̒͛͘̕̕̕͜͜͜͜͝͝͝ͅȨ̸̨̡̧̛̥̱̤̲̬̱̮̘͕̠̦͚̘̞̻̠̞͉̖͚̹̙̭̗̥̲̝̰͕̪̠̩͖͔̠͚̠̝͈̼͖̻̗̜̥̭͈̤͚̫̲͓̜̫̰͓̜̯̹̟͓͇͕͎̭͓̬̺̼͚̟̹̲͚̯̲̤͖͔͒͋̀̋̍̆̑̔̈́̏̉̾̏̐̈̀́͋̍̆͐̃̈́̍͗́̈́̄͋͐̈̆̿̂̈́̽́͐̋͆̅́̆̌͌̏̀̐̑̇͌̃̾̌̂̔̀͆̎̓̂͛̓̍̀̅̓̽̌̿̋͗̅̽̕̕͘̕̚̕͜͜͜͝͝͝͠͠ͅ ̶̨̢̢̧̢̫͈̤͓̥̯͙͔̙͓̺͕̯̣͓̞̻̜̩͓̫͚̹͙͕͉͔̮͖̭̟̤̜̥̫͕̠͙̯͇̼̩̺̲̝̖̳̬̳̭͎̼̲̰̝̻̝͚͈̦̤̳̤̺͚̤̮̙̯͓̼̣̭̰̻͉̠̺̺̩͓̣͔͕̲̺̅̊̊́̉̐̆͒̈́̋͒̃̽͌̇͆̔̃͒̿͊̈́̌̅̈͛̓̾͛̒͋̚͜͜͜ͅͅƯ̷̡̢̢̛̛̟̹̘̞̻̭͓̙̳̻̳͓̜͔͕͚͈͇̹̹̖̯͔̩̭̩͚̮̫̪̰͉̤̩̺͍͙̫̤͈̮̪̦̻̩̹̖̯̣̰̫̲̱̱̼̙͚̭̻̠͉̤̤͍̹͖͉̼̳̯̳̤͈͉͉̝͖̦̬̆̋̃̔̊̋̽̾̌̽̽̇͊̎̿͆̋͂́͒͗̋̈́̐̋̽̂́̓̐̎̑͒̂̊͑̒̌͂̇͌͂̽̿̔̇̈̌͒̏͑̈̀̔͛͑͂̍̏͐̈́̃͗̓͗̄͗́̾̾͛͊͐͛́̏͊̆̀̏͌̉̽̒͋̀̅̊͂͑̇͑̽͂͘̕̚͘̚̚͜͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͝P̸̢̡̛̛̛̛̜̺̜̦͙̦͉̮̣̖̟̘̭̞͈̩̥͍̙͙̝̮̼̪̘̗̤͍̖̫̠̘̠͖͖̪͎̖̹͇͙̜̐́́̋̿̊̿͗̏̌͛͊͑́͒̄́̇̂̊̌̒͊͛̅̑́͑̑̔̃̈͆̃̾͂̏̾͑̓͑͆̈́̈́̀̄̋̾́̈́̍͗̇́̇̃̎̊͛̽͂͒̓͋̑͑̇͗̊̀̐͋͋̽̇̋͆̒͊̍̐̂̏͑̂̕̚͘͝͝͠͠͠͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͠͝͝ͅͅ.̶̧̢̛̛͖̙̖̩̮̗̲̘̥̫͕̜̋̓̈́͒̓̐̅͑̿̀́̾̈͋̒̈́̋͗͌͛̈́̈́͒̊̏͂̏̿̒͒̏̀̀́͑̽͗̀̊̐̀̉̎͑̏̋̆͂̉͗̅̃͋̈̊͆̔̈́͑̎͑̀̉͌̈́̀̌̄̿͊̀̄͂̎̈͗̐͗̆̊̂͘̕̚͠͝͠͝͝ͅ . . . . . . . . . . . . **7 A.M.** Good morning. Did you sleep well? . . . . What do you mean you haven't slept? I heard you snoring at 1 A.M. **Monsters**? Hah! There are no monsters here! As far as I'm aware. **(THEY WILL NEVER BELIEVE YOU.)** **(And yes, I'm still here with you in your consciousness. I will help you through this fake reality.)** **(You made the worst choice of staying up late.)** . . . . . **(IF THIS GETS MORE THAN 20 LIKES I'LL MAKE A SEQUEL!!)**

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/1736aao/rules_if_you_want_to_stay_awake/

Ruleshorror

FrostclawsTheAnimus

A refresher on the prevention of accidental [REDACTED] invitation.

I've been skimming through the news lately and have noticed a disturbing increase in [REDACTED] changes that can only be explained by [REDACTED] entity incursions. While it is impossible to constantly prevent every vector of incursion, there are a few thing you can do at home to help avoid the potential accidental invitation of an [REDACTED] entity and it's subsequent incursion. Remember, while all of these vectors combined are responsible for 90% of cases, in rare occurances only a few vectors are required for an invitation to be "valid". Mirrors Every instance of [REDACTED] invitation must involve a mirror or highly reflective surface or some kind. Outside of the common mirror such examples have been cited as: - A chrome hubcap - The polished surface of a toaster - The surface of a still lake - The northern face of the [REDACTED] Obelisk - The eyes of a newborn While examples like this are uncommon, vigilance is required to prevent any further incursions. If you do own a mirror and are concerned, remember the following: 1. Always maintain a clean veiwing surface; a hazy reflection increases the likelihood of an invitation occuring, and worse, can make it harder to notice the invitation occuring, thus stopping you from taking preventative action. 2. Minimize eye contact with and time in front of your mirror; if you must use the mirror for extended periods, concentrate entirely on your own reflection. IGNORE ANY MOVEMENT IN YOUR PERIPHERAL VISION! AN INVITATION CAN NOT OCCUR UNOBSERVED. 3. Do not turn around. Doorways Most [REDACTED] entities require a perceived entryway into which they are "invited". As doorways come in many shapes and sized, the observer needs only believe that the perceived object is a doorway for the "invitation" to be "valid". A few simple things to remember: 1. No Mirrors: since all [REDACTED] incursions require a reflective surface, keeping mirrors away from doors is the easiest way to prevent doorways from being reflected in them. Always place your mirrors so that they only reflect walls, preferably blank ones. 2. Keep it shut; the perception of a closed door is just as powerful as that of an open one. Closing a door in time can be enough to prevent an invitation. 3. Never enter or exit a doorway while looking in a mirror. Remember only the perception of an entryway of some kind is necessary. Even a mirror at the end of a long hallway is enough to create an entryway. Darkness The most common vector is a lack of direct light, either on the mirror itself or in the room in general. Only a moment of darkness is required for an invitation to occur. Protect yourself by remembering the following: 1. Total darkness or bright light, no in between; the easiest way to protect yourself is to either turn on of turn off all the lights in the room. "Invitations" can not occur with bright light reflected in the mirror, and only the most powerful entities can be invited in total darkness or when the mirror is unobserved. 2. Indirect light doesn't count; dim light or light from an adjoining room doesn't prevent invitation from occurring. In many cases this can reinforce or draw attention to the percieved doorway. 3. Other Darkness is also problematic; adjoining rooms reflected in the mirror that are not well lit are also vectors for a potential "invitation". Close the doorway or light the adjoing room to eliminate this vector. If you hear a knocking, be careful. It could be an [REDACTED] entity; in these cases the sound of the knocking will not come from the the door, but it's counterpart in the mirror. DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR WHILE THE KNOCKING PERSISTS! Remember, it's up to us to stem the tide of any further [REDACTED] incursions, and an ounce of prevention can go a long way against [REDACTED] conversion of the [REDACTED] and the total destruction of the human race.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17340ri/a_refresher_on_the_prevention_of_accidental/

Ruleshorror

The_Great_Demento

Surviving a titan attack. | ORDERS FROM MONARCH. |

This is an official message from Monarch. These are a list of steps to take in case a titan attack happens in your city. Be advised: titan attacks are incredibly rare and do not happen every day, only follow these steps when a titan attacks your city. SECTION 1: SURVIVAL STEPS. 1. Try to evacuate, the titan will destroy everything in its path. You are not an exception. 2. If evacuation is not an option, seek shelter. The titan will not be able to harm you if you are in a secured bunker or basement. 3. Titans will most likely not see you, due to their massive size. Making it easier for you to be crushed to death by their immense weight. Steer clear of their path. 4. If a titan does in fact happen to see you, it will not directly try to attack you as you are too small to be considered a prey item. 5. Most titans only attack when provoked. So do not try to harm it, it will only make it angry and it will cause it to see you as prey. 6. If it happens to see you as prey, running or hiding is no longer an option. Try to lead it away from your city, your sacrifice will possibly save thousands of lives. SECTION 2: KNOW YOUR ENEMY. This section is dedicated to identification of titans. Please read closely as this information will aid you greatly. TITANUS GOJIRA: Aprox. 394 feet tall, thousands of sharp dorsal plates running down its back, reptilian features and a mesmerizing blue glow coming from its dorsals, mouth, and eyes. TITANUS KONG: Aprox. 335 feet tall, fur covering its entire body, human like proportions due to it being an ape, high intelligence and the ability to use handheld weapons. TITANUS RODAN: Aprox. 154 feet tall, wing span of 871 feet, red scales, black beak, lava seemingly dripping off of its wings, and overwhelming heat coming off of it. TITANUS BEHEMOTH: Aprox. 385 feet tall, massive tusks, relatively short trunk and small ears, fur covering its entire body, stumpy feet, and it walks on all fours. TITANUS MOSURA: A giant moth. That’s literally it. It seems to have a symbiotic relationship with gojira. TITANUS MUTO: Insect like proportions, glowing red eyes, black exoskeleton, males can fly, females cannot. TITANUS GHIDORAH: Aprox. 521 feet tall, and a wingspan of 1,300 feet, it has 3 separate heads, and gold colored scaled. TITANUS SCYLLA: Spiderish features, 8 long, sharp insect like legs with tendrils dangling off its face. TITANUS METHUSELAH: Aprox. 426 feet in height, it has moderately sized tusks protruding from its bottom jaw, it seems to hibernate within mountains. It seems to be reptilian but we haven’t confirmed. We have not documented any other titans, if you manage to discover any other titan species, please contact monarch at (505) 503-4455 and let us know. (Obviously based off the monster verse by legendary pictures.)

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/172hu78/surviving_a_titan_attack_orders_from_monarch/

Ruleshorror

One-University9860

Home alone when I was 12

When I was 12 my parents left me home alone for about four hours during that time I was playing on a gaming device (I can’t remember what) but then all of a sudden I heard a truck pull up into my yard so I went out and looked and it was three guys in a truck like a work company truck but it wasn’t a company in our small town my dogs started barking at them and one of my dogs even bit the guy and he kicked her off I called my grandma frantically and I was tempted to call the cops but I didn’t then I called my dad and I was crying at this point so he rushed home and drove in our other drive way and that’s when they all hopped in their truck and left they tried knocking on the door I honestly don’t know what would’ve happened if I wasn’t awake it was really scary that’s for sure.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17cwzbs/home_alone_when_i_was_12/

scarystories

Fay_destroyer

The Corn Bear

Greetings, my name is Noah Essman. I’ve put off telling this story for years as whenever I have, I usually end up getting ridiculed and laughed at for it. Although, I think I am ready to share it now and spread awareness to others. I trust that the users of Reddit will believe it, and share this story with others to do the same thing. Before I was fourteen, everyone including myself referred to my step-father as somewhat of a nut-job. This was mainly just due to some of his superstitions and because of the fact that something was off about him in general. But when he was sick with stage four cancer, and I was the only one around one night to be with him, I morally had no reason not to listen to his stories. Nearly twenty years ago, my step-father (Stephen) lived on a farm. At the time he was still relatively young, in his late twenties. This house he lived in was built by his grandfather and was passed down to him, so he felt obliged to take good care of the place. To put into perspective, the house itself was what you’d imagine, a generic two-story farmhouse, with roughly 30-40 acres of corn. It was also surrounded by forest for miles. So it was a pretty large farm to take care of all by himself (only occasionally receiving help from friends and family for bigger tasks) He would live there for years with no problem, and was just seen as a local farmer outside of town. One year, strange things began happening on the farm. Firstly, he began to notice corn was going missing. There would be multiple spots of noticeably eaten land in the cornfield, and the corn in his silos would noticeably drain after not refilling for long enough. He initially assumed it was raccoons, possums, or some other kinds of pests. So he set up poison traps. He would find these poison traps eaten, but the corn would continue to go missing. He set up multiple bear traps around and inside the field, he did not assume it was a bear but whatever it was, it could help get the job done. Almost a week later, on a stormy night, he was in his dimly lit kitchen. He was cutting himself an apple to eat before he went to bed when suddenly he heard a mysterious deep screech out far into the field. He looked outside of his window immediately and mixed with the pouring rain, his family's long-time grandfather clock chiming upstairs, and the sound of his own breath fogging up the glass, it sent a cold shiver down his spine. That night he had trouble going to bed and never ended up getting more than a couple of hours of sleep. The next morning after he ate some breakfast, and he decided to look out into the cornfield once again to check up on his traps as corn was still going missing. As expected, many of the traps were still untouched, but. Deep into the field, there was one. One trap caught something. The trap was closed, surrounded by dark-colored blood, and a short trail of blood followed it as well. He began following this trail of blood when he realized that because of his tiredness, he had forgotten his gun, and should probably go grab it before going any further, so he sprinted back to his house to retrieve it. When he got back, he looked for hours but came to no avail of the trap again. This was irritating, not only would this interfere with harvesting but then he couldn’t follow the trail of blood and confirm if whatever it caught was dead or not. He had enough of this and wanted whatever was eating his crops to just be dead because this would almost literally take a large bite of what came out of that year's harvest. So he began setting up multiple more elaborate booby traps. Strings with bells, lacing pieces of corn outside of the field with poison, and more bear traps, with the knowledge of setting up flags at all of them to locate them easier. On top of this, he dedicated one week on his calendar to sit in the forest alongside his field in a hunting treestand to be ready and strike whatever was in there. For many nights, nothing would happen. But one night, a night so dark minimal stars lit up the sky, one of the bell traps went off. He couldn’t fail, he’s dedicated so much time to this. He scanned the field and began to see what looked like something moving through the corn near where the bell went off. He began firing rounds in its area in hopes of hitting, which he did. He described the feeling of hitting it as very surprising as really all he was doing was just shooting in random directions, he felt very unprepared despite putting so much time into this. When the shot hit, whatever it was let out nothing but a deep screech. The moving in the corn stopped. He climbed down the tree and that’s when he began to step forward into the tall, dark field of corn. But just as he did, he felt something off. He felt a strange feeling towering over him as if he shouldn’t go in. He was hesitant, but his eagerness for whatever this was to be dead got the best of him. He ignored his fears and stepped inside. With his flashlight, he looked around for what he said felt like forever. He finally found a trail of blood and began following it. But while following it, his fears grew larger. He shakingly held his gun up and stepped closer, and that's when the corn all around him began moving. It sounded like something surrounding him. He only had a couple of bullets left because he stupidly forgot to reload his gun, so it’s not like he could begin firing in random directions like he did before either. He felt genuine fear as he no longer thought these were just rodents. “Has there been some kind of a cult performing rituals in my field, and using my traps to sacrifice to whatever god they are worshipping? No that wouldn’t make sense, those screeches I heard weren’t human, and sounded nothing like any animal I have ever heard.” He thought to himself. He felt like he had no other choice, but to run towards his house. Shortly after, he could hear whatever it was behind him, start doing the same. ​ Upvote this this story, so I know the people of Reddit would like to know more. I want to know I am being taken seriously before going any further. If we get at least 10 upvotes, I'll release the next part of my stepfather's tale. \[PART 1\]

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17cnmdv/the_corn_bear/

scarystories

Noah_Essman23

Weird night with cousins when adults were at new year party

When I was little every new years eve the adults would go to this new year's party thing and me and all my cousins would stay up at my grandmas house. A huge brick house that someone died in and we all thought was haunted So basically we're playing a board game, either life or monopoly and we start talking about scary stuff and how 3am is an evil time or something. There's like 6 or 7 of us there. We were kinda straying off from the game and playing with the dice and one of us rolled 6 6 6. We all looked at each other scared to death cause we had built up to that moment with scary stories and stuff and at that exact time the light above us turned off and we all screamed. Me and one of my cousins were kinda younger than the rest of us and I think we started crying cause I swear we heard the little string on the fan be pulled when it went off. You probably know the little yanking sound..yeah we heard that. We were all laying on the floor and it was up high above our heads. Scared the shit out of us all that night

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17ct4hf/weird_night_with_cousins_when_adults_were_at_new/

scarystories

brownassasin

Night Terror

Night Terror ​ Mel gasped violently and her eyes snapped open as the bed jolted beside her, tearing her from the clutches of restless sleep. She scanned the room through the shroud of near-total darkness. Confused and disoriented she realised that this was not the familiar sanctuary of her own bedroom. Her heart racing and drenched in a layer of cold, clammy sweat, she fought to slow her breathing and regain her bearings. Where was she? ​ Her panic began to subside as she remembered where she was. This was Evan’s place, Evan’s bed. She had persuaded him to let her stay the night, an intimate leap in their six-month courtship. Evan had been reluctant and after some gentle probing he’d confessed to Mel that since his wife had died almost eight years ago he’d been afflicted with sleep paralysis and nightmares. He had actually called them night terrors. He didn’t want Mel to see him suffering through one of these episodes and his only other partner since the passing of his wife had broken things off the morning after she witnessed one of Evan’s “bad nights” for herself. After hearing this, Mel had taken his hands in her own, looked into his tear-filled eyes and comforted him, vowing that there was nothing that could change her feelings for him. ​ Yet, despite knowing where she was, a sense of unease still lingered. She could feel an intangible presence in the room. An unseen, lurking gaze that sent shivers down her spine. She could hear the sound of floorboards creaking somewhere in the room. Desperation compelled her to sit up and investigate. But she was unable to move. Sleep paralysis? No, she was aware of her legs writhing in rebellion against the resistance acting on her upper body. She was being held down. Cold dread settled in her chest as the weight of unseen hands applied pressure across her shoulders pushing her down into the mattress. The force intensified as she struggled and she could hear the bed springs creaking and groaning under the relentless pressure. The oppressive weight spread to her chest, as if icy hands bore down through her skin striving to crush the air out of her lungs. ​ A long forgotten memory surged from Mel’s past, the image of a childhood trauma that had faded but never completely disappeared. She was transported to the day her Dad had playfully buried her at the beach, leaving only her head poking out of the sand. She could hear her panicked cries for rescue as she realised she was unable to move or to even draw breath under the growing weight. She could still feel the relentless, ever-mounting pressure bearing down on her, much like the unseen force that now confined her. ​ The same frantic terror that she had felt at the beach all those years ago clutched her now. The air had been forced out of her and she was unable to draw breath. The inexorable weight pressed her further into the mattress, as if she was being swallowed by quicksand. The wooden bedframe protested under the mounting strain. Desperation surged within her, an uncontrollable urge to scream building in her chest. Summoning every ounce of strength, she gasped for a painful breath. Her mouth contorted unnaturally wide in preparation for a scream that could not escape. Instead, her windpipe was mercilessly constricted, crushed by the phantom grip that had already ensnared the rest of her, like a chain wound tightly around her entire body. ​ Struggling to turn her head, she searched for Evan beside her, but his side of the bed lay empty. The realisation that she was alone crashed over her like an icy wave and warm tears streaked down her face. Her strength waned, leaving her powerless to struggle any longer. She gazed up at the ceiling as unconsciousness began to encircle her. Though her vision was blurred by tears she saw Evan suspended on the ceiling above the bed, his limbs splayed in unnatural directions as if he was being pulled apart. His eyes remained closed but his mouth moved, silently opening and closing as though he were struggling to speak to her through the darkness. ​ In the next instant, Evan’s head snapped to a grotesque angle, a sickening motion accompanied by a deafening crack that reverberated around the room. His mouth hung still, his face eerily frozen and expressionless. Gravity seized him, wrenching him down from the ceiling. Mel watched in paralysed horror as he descended toward the empty space on the bed beside her. She shut her eyes tightly, bracing for the impending impact. ​ Mel gasped violently and her eyes snapped open as the bed jolted beside her, tearing her from the clutches of restless sleep...

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17cn7kj/night_terror/

scarystories

onlinemediatutor

Triskaidekaphobia

6:52 a.m. Friday, October 13. Richard Fulton called into work, feigning sickness. He wasn't about to go to work on today of all days. No. He didn't even plan to leave the apartment if he could help it. His acting wasn't about to win him any academy awards, but it was enough to appease Nicholas Bruns, his supervisor. Richard hung up the phone and breathed out a sigh of relief. Next he poured himself a bowl of shredded wheat and took the carton of milk from the refrigerator. He gave it a whiff, and although it smelled alright, he checked the expiration date anyway. Use before 10/13. He poured the remainder of the milk down the sink and put the bowl of cereal aside. He'd have toast instead.  He sunk down into his recliner and turned on the television. After flipping through the channels, he finally landed on something interesting, but after realizing the program was on channel thirteen, he turned the TV off and decided to read instead. He read to page twelve, then skipped straight to page fourteen. *8:32 a.m.* Richard heard a knock at the door, and looking through his peephole, he saw Andrea Kessler from across the hall standing there. Opening the door, he said, "Hey Andrea. What's up?"  "Oh, thank goodness! You're home. I saw your truck parked out front and was hoping. My son's sitter called off. Her car won't start, and she can't get a ride. I was wondering if, maybe, you could keep an eye on Justin today." Richard was a little surprised at the request. She had been his neighbor since he first moved in. She was still pregnant. *How long has that been now, twelve, fourteen years?* Richard wondered to himself. Even still, he barely knew her or her son. Their conversations didn't go much beyond talking about the weather. If she had known him better, she would have known that he wasn't so fond of kids. And did she have to ask him today, of all days? She must've seen the reluctance in Richard's expression. "You won't have to do much, really! He's old enough to mostly look after himself. Just check in on him; maybe get him a little lunch around noon. My boss says if I call in anymore, I'm canned." "Isn't today a school day?" "Teacher's institute. But I'm only scheduled for a half day. I'll be home a little after one." At last, Richard acquiesced, and Andrea insisted he step into her apartment while she let her son know. He saw the boy sitting on the floor watching TV. "Justin, this is Mr. Fulton, from next door." "I know," he said, glancing away from the television only momentarily.  "Hi Justin," Richard said, feeling a little awkward. "Hi." "Well, Mr. Fulton's going to be keeping an eye on you while I'm at work, so be good for him, okay?" "I will, Mom." "I know you will," she said. Andrea turned her attention to Richard and said, "He has some apple slices and soda in the fridge. Just make him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch. It's all he'll eat after breakfast anyway. Oh! The peanut butter is on top of the fridge." Again, she must've been able to read Richard's face because she immediately told him, "Justin has some special needs, especially when it comes to what he eats. I'd prepare it ahead of time, but he doesn't like how the jelly makes the bread all soggy. And he just won't make the sandwiches himself. He says he gets the peanut butter all over his fingers." What was called *special needs* today was simply called *spoiled* when Richard was a boy. At least, that's how he saw it. He politely nodded and said, "Alright. I can handle that." She leaned over and kissed Justin on the head. "And don't open any of your presents until I get home, okay?" "I won't, Mom," Justin said with audible annoyance. "Oh! Is today your birthday?" Richard asked, trying to make some connection with the boy. "How old are you?" "Thirteen!" Justin answered proudly. Richard felt his heart sink.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17cq59v/triskaidekaphobia/

scarystories

DungeonMarshal

The Thing in the Mirror

A few years ago, I stumbled upon an old, antique mirror at a local thrift store. It was adorned with strange patterns and seemed to have a mysterious history. Though it may sound cliché, I decided to purchase it and hang it in my bedroom. At first, everything seemed normal, but over the weeks, I began to notice something strange. At night, the reflection in the mirror didn't match my own image. It had a sinister smile, empty eyes, and fingers that seemed unnaturally long. Each night, it grew progressively more terrifying. I tried to cover the mirror, drape it with sheets, and turn it to face the wall, but nothing worked. The thing in the mirror was always there, watching, waiting. I was losing sleep, petrified by this malevolent entity peering back at me through the glass. One night, after weeks of torment, I decided to shatter the mirror. As the glass shattered into pieces, I heard an eerie laughter. The mirror was in shards, but the reflection of the thing was still there, mocking me, taunting me. I became obsessed with the mirror, spending hours gazing into it, trying to fathom what lay behind this enigmatic entity. I eventually unraveled the truth. The mirror was a gateway to another world, a realm where horror reigned supreme. I don't know how I survived that experience, but one thing's for sure; I'll never purchase another antique mirror. My reflection has never been the same since, and I can't help but think the thing in the mirror still waits for an opportunity to return. **Feel free to ask questions :3**

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17ckh2c/the_thing_in_the_mirror/

scarystories

Last_Salt2022

Wedding Anniversary Horror Narrative | Survival Terror | True Reddit Ho...

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17ctmgu/wedding_anniversary_horror_narrative_survival/

scarystories

Sinister_Shadowz

The road to New Wilderness [Part 20]

[\[Part 19\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bo3pa/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_19/) [\[Part 21\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17d9ihf/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_21/) As a young girl, I’d had a reoccurring dream about running from something in the dark, but no matter how fast I ran, I moved as slow as molasses. The thing behind me would always catch up, and just as I turned to face it, I would awake screaming. Over the years, I either forgot, or grew out of the dream, and by the time I was in high school, it became a distant memory. Now, however, it all came flooding back with visceral clarity. I threw myself down the opposite hallway, my shoes sliding over the greasy floor with a frustrating lack of traction. Each breath came short and tight through the suffocating gas mask, and I fell multiple times, only to claw my way back to my feet with hands covered in the clammy jello-like mucous. Darkness flew by, my red headlamp the only illumination I had in the depths of the nest, and everything blurred into a horrifying ticker-tape parade of black, red, and gray shadows. Pain flared in my knees from the rough tumbles I took to the cold tile, and my heart raced so fast, I thought it might explode. *Can’t slow down, its right freaking there.* Several yards behind me, the Echo Pupa slithered with ease across the slimy floor, and air sucked into the maw on its cavity-ridden head with the sound of a wet-toilet plunger. Overhead, the ruined school building shook, as more adult Echo Spiders skittered around in frantic search for whatever had cause the disturbance below. A small, reasonable part of my brain wondered if they communicated like honeybees, talking with their babies through ultra-sonic noises between the rubble. If that was the case, then the entire nest knew I was here. Heaps of debris loomed out of the dark, blocking my passage to the right, so I veered left, down a narrow hall choked by shattered cinder block, fallen timbers, and jumbled bones. Dried marrow and charred wood snapped under my filthy boot heels, abandoned classrooms on either side of me that yawned in the dark, waiting jaws to swallow me whole. Something wriggled at my elbow, and I screamed under my mask to stagger onward, too afraid to look back. The disgusting parasitic squeals blasted in my ears, the pupae close enough I could reach out and touch it. It would be on me in seconds, and I wouldn’t have the strength to fight it off, the beast too close for me to whirl around and shoot. An unblocked door jumped out of the shadows to my right, and I hurled myself inside, the worm moving too fast to pivot, and it glided past me down the hall. With hands that shook so hard I could barely manipulate my own fingers, I shoved the wooden double doors shut, and spun the little metal deadbolt. *That’s not going to do anything.* Stepping back from the door, I gasped air through the stuffy filter on my gas mask and took in the room with my flickering red headlamp. I didn’t have much time, the bug would be back any second now, and if I couldn’t find a way out, the most merciful thing to do would be to stick my Type-9 in my mouth. There had to be another way out, or at least, something I could use to barricade the door better. Various black-topped wooden tables filled the room, with stainless steel sinks at their center, likely a former science lab for chemistry students. A white dry erase board hung from a wall behind the old teacher’s desk, and there were still faint black markings on it from old equations that had never been solved. The chairs around the room were scattered everywhere, along with ripped textbooks, torn papers, and spatters of rusty red blood that formed a trail into one lonely corner. Something glinted from the dusty curtains of blackness, and I took a cautious step closer. *Yikes.* He sat slumped against the wall, the gray uniform on his body stained with clumps of brownish mucous, black goo, and dried red blood. The soldier wore a Kevlar helmet with broken night vision goggles on the front, and a plate carrier adorned in several empty magazine pouches. A long black rifle lay not far from his right hand with its bolt locked open on another empty magazine. Brass casings littered the floor around him, and two other Echo Pupae lay to one side of the room, rotting in the stillness of death. Both his legs had been gnawed to the bone, everything missing below the exposed yellow kneecaps. “Come on, give me something.” I knelt to scour his pockets for ammunition or grenades, but as I did, two objects fluttered from the man’s cupped left hand onto his stiff knees. One was a little yellow and black plastic remote, much like a walkie talkie, and at a push of a button, its tiny screen lit up from whatever automatic shutdown it had been in. In the corner of the screen, the battery showed a low charge, but it still worked, at least, for now. The other was a tiny green notepad, its white pages-tinged pink in the light of my headlamp, speckled with flecks of dried blood. Hurried writing lay scrawled over the lines on the paper, and despite the eerie slushing from the hall that told me the Echo Pupae was circling back, I picked up the little booklet with tender fingers. *They’re all dead.* *We thought this place was abandoned, had it rigged to blow, and they pounced on us, dragged our whole squad into their nest. I managed to break free before the little ones could latch on to me, but the larva stung me several times, and now my legs won’t work. Talk about shitty luck. Charges were all set, we had the item in our grasp, and now the freaking spiders have it. I’m running out of ammo, and the only reason they haven’t got to me yet is my K-9 tracker. Poor Dusty might be gone, but every time I hit the tone button, it scares them off. Not that it matters.* *I can feel the poison in my system, I know I’m done for. If command finds this, we had the item in our commander’s truck, number M43, along with the clacker for the C4. Most of our charges should be intact, since I don’t think the mutants understand what they are. Find it and blast this place, no matter how many of us are in here. With those things eating their way into our boys, there’s nothing we can do for them anyway.* *It’s in my arm now, almost like a living thing. I tried cutting it out with a knife, but it’s too deep and . . .* His writing faded into unintelligible squiggles there, as if the solder’s hand had spasmed or frozen. I hated to think about what he’d endured, being paralyzed, left alive in the dark to wait for death. Even if he was from ELSAR, no one deserved this. But part of his scribbles tuck in my head, and a dangerous prickle of optimism filtered through my fearful thoughts. The item. His squad had been sent to recover something, and if this note was still accurate, that ‘something’ lay in the scrap heaps above me, just waiting to be rescued. It could have been reference to anything, but there was too much at stake for me to brush it off as mere coincidence. My hunch had been right, at least, so far. But that meant I had to go through that door . . . and the giant spider-slug was in my way. “Let’s hope this works.” I slipped the nylon lanyard for the remote around my wrist as the door heaved with impact from outside. *Wham.* At last, the dried wood caved in, and the ugly head of the worm slithered through, bobbing back and forth as it tasted the air in search of me. Panic rose in my mind, but I forced it away, and held the tracker-collar remote up, its stubby black antenna pointed at the monstrosity. *It’s still in my way.* Hesitation struck out of nowhere, a horrific realization that hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t act yet, I realized, not with that thing blocking my only door out of here. The worm would have to get close, enough for me to get past it, which meant if this desperate improvised weapon didn’t work, I wouldn’t even have time to scream before it was all over. In my head, I pictured Chris’s smile, felt his arms around me, heard his laugh. One more time, I needed to see him just one more time. This couldn’t be it for me, not like this. I wouldn’t let it be. “Here!” I coughed through my mask, finding my voice and shouting both to attract its attention, and shoved the fear from my mind. “I’m right here!” Surging forward, the greasy black monster ploughed between the desks, its throat gaped wide, little tendrils splayed from each side of its underdeveloped mouth, ready to pull me in. My thumb pressed the tone button, and the remote screen lit up. A high, piercing shriek of pain ripped through the air, and the worm’s charge fumbled into a spasmodic thrash. It threw itself from side to side, smashing chairs, splintering the desks, and covering everything around it in a fresh coat of brownish-red mucous. Seizing my chance, I darted past it, climbed over the ruined door, and sprinted back into the slimy hallway. I turned left upon reaching the main corridor and caught the rustle of movement in the shadows down the hall I’d first come from. The crimson beam of my headlamp caught several black coils of wriggling flesh oozing their way up the greasy tiles, and my guts writhed. *Okay, now they’re angry.* Adrenaline pumping through my veins, I clawed my feet at a nearby floor mat that wasn’t as gooey as the rest of the hall and raced onward as more screech-thuds resounded overhead. The entire nest was on high alert, and I doubted I’d find many more rooms to hide in. It was do or die time. From the abyss, a set of stairs materialized, and I gave a shout of joy beneath my mask. It looked clear, I could see gray light somewhere toward the top, which meant I could get out into the scrap heap and then— *Flash.* Bright white light blinded me, and all four of my limbs locked as if I’d been hit by a taser. Dread filled my mind, and no matter how much I internally screamed, I couldn’t so much as draw a breath. *“Look for the light.”* A chorus of whispers called to me from somewhere up the stairs, and voices spoke with disembodied volume from all different directions, as if bouncing around inside my skull. Soft tendrils of words poked their way into the folds of my mind, slithered into my memories, neither happy nor sad, violating every thought, every idea, every dream I had. There were so many of them, and only one of me. Why bother to fight? It was warm here, safe, comfortable. There was no point in resisting. I could just relax, let unseen hands lift me up, and everything would be glorious and bright. No more fear. No more struggle. All I had to do was put down that nasty piece of plastic. *This is nice. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, staying here. It’s so warm, like a big blanket of . . . hang on . . . why are my ankles cold?* Something in my head sputtered, like a faulty wire, and I blinked on dry, itchy eyes. Cold braided steel brushed against my legs, and in an instant, my brain was mine, and flared with primal alarm. “*No*.” I jammed my finger down on the tone button, and the light stuttered, before flickering out entirely. *Bwwwooonnnggg.* Half-blinded in the sudden resurgence of darkness, I blinked in shock at the sea of rusty steel cables that wriggled on the floor, falling from where they had snaked up my legs and around my shoulders, ready to reel me in like a fly in a web. At the top of the stairs, a huge satellite-dish head twitched and jerked, the spotlights around the rim of its dish flickered uncontrollably, and its siren cut in and out with static. Under its head, the tentacle-like cables seized, and the Echo Spider staggered, like it couldn’t keep its feet, sending chunks of debris raining down around me inside the stairwell. On wobbly legs, I charged up the steps, clicking the tone button in rapid-fire taps, and with the other hand, pulled my Type-9 from its place next to my hip. *Brat-tat-tat-tat-tat!* Yellow bursts of flame lit up the dim stairwell, and bullets stitched across the Echo Spider’s dish, smashing one of the spotlights with a shower of sparks. “*Get back!*” I screamed, my voice hoarse and shaky, but too desperate to care. Hannah Brun had been switched off, and instead someone else had taken over, a vicious, crazy, animalistic version of myself ready to do anything to survive. Confused, and in pain, the enormous metal creature retreated with a cacophony of enraged foghorn blasts and chitters, the ground shaking as more of its comrades bore down on the stairwell entrance. *Nope. My stairs. Go away, go away, go away.* Up to meet them I ran, half staggering, but not stopping for a second. Cool air from the outside met my neck and bare hands, the familiar sky above. All around me, tall stacks of metal stood bound together with sticky tendons of black, sheet metal, angle iron, and rusted I-beams. Doorknobs, refrigerators, and bicycles rested next to huge towers of cars and trucks toward the center of the mound. Black membrane held things in place, along with various swollen pods that wriggled and heaved, more larva growing in their core. In one corner, a Pupae lay nestled in a sling-like cradle of ebony ligaments, half-fitted with a fresh set of metal legs, the steel driven into the vacant holes in its body, a dented satellite dish laying nearby. Four adult Echo Spiders waited from behind various columns and piles, white light flooding in from every angle the instant I surfaced. Shutting my eyes, I raised the remote and clicked the tone button, waving my arm in a circle, as the Echo Spiders bellowed in alarm. *Brat-tat-tat-tat!* I sprayed bullets at them, and darted into the interior of the nest, dodging sticky pools of black tendrils stretched like webs between scrap. Dozens of larva pods split to spill the worms inside whenever I got too close, and steel legs jabbed from the adults above me, an ironic twist of insects trying to squash a human as I scuttled through their home. Squelches and shrieks rang in my ears, mutants closing in from every side, but as I ran, a flash of color caught my eye. High up, five cars off the ground in a teetering stack, an armored truck sat, its glass shattered in places, one of the doors bent at the hinges, the others bent and twisted, every tire flattened. It bore the same gray paint job as the uniforms of its former inhabitants, but the white-lined black number painted on the door stood out among all the chaos clamoring for my attention. M43. *Bingo.* My hands slid on the smooth metal of the bottom truck hood, but I jumped up to gain purchase, remembering the one time I’d gone indoor rock climbing with mom and dad. I scaled the rickety tower with frantic limbs, found hand holds on open windows, mirrors, fenders and wheels, my arms and legs aching with the strain. I paused only to click the tracker controller, spiders and worms so close I could feel the cars shake as they clambered after me. The Echo Spiders flashed their lights and stomped ever closer to physically rip me from the tower, but I was in the zone, moving with a fluidity I didn’t know I had, giving 110% to every motion. *Crash.* A microwave whizzed past my head, impacting on a truck cab a few feet from me. Broken glass peppered my hair, the Echo Spiders throwing garbage at me with their cable tentacles like kids chasing a pesky racoon away from their backyard. Creaking and groaning, the stack swayed dangerously, and I lost my grip on the car bumper I’d been holding on to. *Oh shi—* The world rushed past me, air howled in my ears, and I flailed in desperation. My fingers snagged at an old-fashioned metal side mirror, and I cried out in pain at the sudden jolt in my shoulder, both legs kicking in mid-air. Something wet and heavy latched onto my shoe, and a suckling maw tried to chew its way through my boot, the black worm thrashing to bring its tail-stinger to bear. If it stung me, it would be all over. I brought my other boot down and sent the creepy larva flying with a satisfying *squish*. Thanks to the brief moment of respite, I swung myself higher on the pickup truck, dodged a hub cap thrown by one of the adults, and climbed higher. My palm slapped the handle of the armored truck’s door, and I dragged myself inside just as rusty cables lunged for my ankles from below. Clicking the tone button to shoo it away, I squeezed into the cluttered interior of the military vehicle and gasped for air beneath my gas mask. *I can’t keep this up. How am I going to get down from here? Come on Hannah, focus, find the box and get moving.* Worming my way past the blood-coated seats, I slid under the steering wheel, and through a square door into the rear compartment. Bits of gear, backpacks, and equipment lay everywhere, reminiscent of our truck after its tumble from the cliffs. Spare bottles of water, a few dented ammunition cans, and a box labeled 40mm were jumbled across the floor, but in the corner to my left, I picked up the outline of a slumped human torso. Like his doomed comrade in the school, this soldier lay dead, mangled, with half his spinal column poking from under his uniform jacket. He’d covered himself in a bundle of nylon tow straps, wedged between one seat and the metal bulkhead, which had likely saved him from being whisked away to the larva chamber. Still, death had taken him, maybe moments after his clever ruse was completed, the poor man a mass of blood, torn flesh, and lifeless, milky eyes beneath his gas mask. His plate carrier held a few round grenades in two pouches on his chest, and next to the man’s exposed hip-bone lay a little green square with a spring-loaded plunger and a single stubby antenna. Molded into the plastic on one side were the words ‘Firing Device Electrical M57’, and it seemed the soldier died before he could squeeze the trigger, speckles of blood all over it. Breathless, I shoved the junk aside to snatch at the detonator, and my heart stopped as something else caught my eye. *No way.* There it sat, a black plastic box about the size of a small handbag, tucked just behind the dead soldier’s back, perfectly concealed by his last act of courage. Even smeared with his dried blood, I could still make out the faint white letters beneath the rusty-red stains on the polymer lid. LBD01106. “Yes!” In spite of everything, I hugged the box to my chest, and choked down a sob of joy. I’d done it. This was our ticket home. *Creeeeaaak.* The world swayed, metal groaning under the strain of sudden impacts, and my heart fell into my stomach. *They’re going to push it over.* More titanic blow rippled up the haphazard tower of vehicles, and the greasy black membranes holding it all in place started to snap. Though wary of my tracker collar remote, the Echo Spiders weren’t about to leave me alone, and shoved at the pile of metal with their forelegs, rocking it back and forth like hounds baying at a tree. They couldn’t climb up to get me, so instead, they would drop the entire tower down around my head. Frantic, I shoved the box into my backpack, along with the little detonator. Both the soldier’s grenades went into my cargo pockets, and I crawled on hands and knees for the rear compartment door. Everything tilted, the back doors flew open, and loose objects rolled past me as the tower leaned a little too far. Out the back doors of the compartment, I could see another tower sliding closer as mine fell, and a sickening realization struck me. *I have to jump.* My shoes slid to the edge of the door, and the ground rose to meet me, as every black sinew holding the metal pile upright snapped. *Thump-thump.* I gripped the edge of the door, the backpack pressed between my shoulder blades, and sucked in a deep breath. *Thump-thump.* I had no idea how to gauge the distance, when to jump, or even if I’d make it. But one thing was for certain; if I fell to the ground, with its vast covering of scrap metal, bricks, and concrete, I’d break every bone in my body. In spite of the distance, in spite of my brain screaming that I was way too high off the ground, and the Echo Spiders clustering around to finish their assault, I knew I had no other choice. With a pulse roaring in my ears, I flung myself out of the truck as the tower collapsed, and tumbled through the air toward the next scrap pile, nothing beneath me but sixty feet of cold, poisoned air.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17chv7g/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_20/

scarystories

RandomAppalachian468

The Medieval Village and it’s Evil Spirit

“Today’s horror movies could make use of this story from the ninth century, of how an evil spirit terrorized a medieval village. It also reports on one of the earliest recorded attempts at an exorcism from the Middle Ages.” I find it was quite an interesting read for the spooky month. [Read here](https://www.medievalists.net/2023/10/medieval-village-evil-spirit/)

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17cmskd/the_medieval_village_and_its_evil_spirit/

scarystories

caringcandycane

The Barnsea Caves

It was their first venture underground. The Barnsea Caverns were well-traveled and well-mapped. It was the perfect adventure before the gang went off to college. Magma roiled beneath the system, but the tunnels were cold. Moisture condensed on the walls and dripped from stalactites. It started with shortness of breath. Then headaches. They paused to rest, thinking it was dehydration. But the headaches didn’t stop. When none of them returned home that night, their parents called one another, then the police. It took a professional team to find the bodies, resting right where they’d laid down. The caves were well-travelled and well-mapped. But they were small and constricted. Easily filled with carbon dioxide from too many lungs.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17cqrkg/the_barnsea_caves/

scarystories

firesidechats451

I have made 3 True paranormal gas station stories video, I’m looking for feed back, on what I can improve and what type of stories would everyone be interested in? Can anyone have a look a help out? Thanks

[3](https://youtu.be/1yIlQLada5I?si=w-wc7Q_FHJH74ets) 3 True Paranormal Gas Station Stories https://youtu.be/1yIlQLada5I?si=w-wc7Q_FHJH74ets

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17cqfg3/i_have_made_3_true_paranormal_gas_station_stories/

scarystories

ParanormalTales2023

The EVIL NUN..

Hi! My name is Dylan Hartley. I have just recently graduated from the Unraven High school. You might think I'm happy and all...but your wrong..I have a story to tell you, a story about an evil spirit that once roamed our school in the freshman year.. It was the last day of school! People chatted and played pranks and some even broke rules! But not me..at the time I was known as "loser" cause I never talked..unless I was spoken to. I only had 1 friend. Her name was Chloe. I lost Chloe in my escape.. But I'll tell you more. We were in class doing the last assignment when a bum entered the room. We stood and bowed out heads. She dismissed us and started to speak. "Good Afternoon students! Today I have brought some amazing news! It's an event that will happen in summer..Summer camp!" The boys threw books and shrieked while the girls behaved properly. " it is free of cost! You can give the flyer to your parents and seek permission to go! If allowed come to the school by 10:00 no later! Thank you for listening. " then she left. She handed the flyers to the teacher and we were all handed a flyer. My parents would probably send me to make friends. But I didn't care. As long as I was doing something adventurous. I went home and showed mom the flyer. She was more than delighted to send me. Then 5mins later my suitcases were packed. Then I was at the school gate. Waiting a line with which of other things. All of them were happy..but if they knew what was awaiting us they'd be terrified.... We got out tickets and proceeded inside to our dorms. I was sharing my form with kayleb Francis, People called him a bulky all the time but I didn't care. I unpacked and went to the dining room. The food was great! We feasted like a pack of wolves and then we were guided back up stairs. Before we entered the form room we had a meeting with the nun. Btw her name was Sister Lonavere. She reminded us about something very weird.. "Please remember this during your stay. ALWAYS pray before bed and waking up. Bed time is at 8:00 every night but today it's 12:00 but just go to your dorms and sleep, tomorrow is a big day!" We hurried off into our form rooms. I laid in my bed and closed my eyes. Trying to sleep. My roommate entered and gasped, astonished with who his roommate was. "YOU?! WHY?!!" Then he left. I became a bit scares but I eventually started to dose off. Then I heard a crash, then a terrified scream. "What the..?" I jumped up slipped on my bed time slippers and walked to the door. I pressed my ears on it and listened. I heard a student crying. " I'm sorry! I never meant to.. I really didnt! It was an accident don't send me home! " he or she pleaded. Then I heard a voice that sent chills down my spine. " I'm not sending you home..I'm punishing you. Go down there! " Then I heard a gate fly open then a crash. No scream. "Oh my god.. What the hell?!" I hesitated but then I pushed the door open and followed the voices. The gate looked closed but I pushed it. It swing open but I stopped it form crashing. I saw a child laying down. It was Kayleb! What did he do?! Then I heard footsteps.loud footsteps. I ran into the room and locked the door. Then I jumped on bed and closed my eyes. Who was that? I thought. I visualized kayleb being pushed down those stairs. "I feel so bad for him..." I said to myself. Then I heard a weak and sudden voice replied. " so sad for who? Why were you running dylan? " it was lilla! "Lilla you won't believe what I saw!" Then we heard the footsteps . "Hide!" I ordered. She ran and hid under Kayleb's bed. Then sister Lonavere entered. Then left whispering something under her breath.. "Do you think she saw us?!" I asked in a shout whisper. " No...I -I don't think s-so.. " Then I realised it. IT WAS HER! SISTER LONAVERE!! Inform me if you want a part 2! This took me only 5 mins btw! The for reading!!

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17cp98m/the_evil_nun/

scarystories

Inspired_To

its in my closet

i 15 female was in my room , my mom and dad were on a trip . i went downstairs and heard something clawing at my door . i get a drink and go back to my room . nothing was there. i get back in bed and hear a cackle , it was quit but still hearable . i go back downstairs to my kitchen to see if there is anymore tea left for a refill . i hear the sound again , clawing louder i get my drink and go back to my room. i started recording and set my phone up . i go downstairs , repaired to see what this thing is . i hear the clawing , loudly . louder than ever before . i do nothing but stand there . soon the clawing became banging , then yelling , then it went quit . i go back upstairs , grab my phone and sprint out of there . fearing what i might see , i wish i never looked at the camera , after i leave my room i see this extremely tall man with a suit , the suit was gross with dirt and but and rips in it, i look at the face and it was horrifying , grey skin with big eyes no pupils or anything , just big white eyes when the screaming started there was skin that stretched like slime , when it stoped he looked at the camera , then he smiled . the recording stopped , i go and get my dog and get out of the house , i shown cops the recording but they thing its edited . i now live in addison apartments , and there was recently a murder .

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17cp3v7/its_in_my_closet/

scarystories

iamcooliknow

#horrorstory #shortstories #truestories #scary #crazytimes #halloween #h...

👻 u/CrazyTime_Stories In this bone-chilling video, we dive deep into the enigmatic world of the Children Eater. Who or what is this sinister entity? What are its motives? Join us on a journey through real-life encounters, eerie legends, and heart-pounding stories. Learn how to protect yourself and your loved ones from the lurking menace of the Children Eater. Discover the chilling truth in this must-watch exploration. 👀👻 #shortstories #scary #truestories #horrorstories

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17cob6g/horrorstory_shortstories_truestories_scary/

scarystories

kraftySolutions

A Little Rat

A little rat wandered in The priest said “pustules born from sin.” No one knew it would be the end Until doctors from England they would send A pustule here, an open sore there Some hidden germs within the air Mothers cried as children died There was no safe haven Then the men in masks came, the ones dressed like raven. Bodies burned as our town depleted The black plague cannot be defeated.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17cob19/a_little_rat/

scarystories

LorneBronstein

The Last Time I Went Trick-or-Treating

Not everyone remembers their final time going out trick or treating. People often say "One year it was fun and the next year it seemed lame". It's always up for debate, at what age kids should stop trick-or -treating. Some people say 12 is too old, while others say that they don't mind if high school kids show up at their house, provided they're polite and respectful. My dad always thought that the whole trick-or-treating thing was a little silly, but he was never against going with me when I was younger. That ended the year I turned 13, and it would turn out to be the last year I went trick-or-treating. ​ Dad informed me early in the week that he wouldn't be going with me this year, he had to pull a double shift, and that if I insisted on going he was fine with it, but that I needed to be careful and meet up with some friends. I was filled with nervous excitement, I never thought I'd be allowed to go out alone on my favorite holiday! Well, my former favorite holiday. ​ The only problem with my dad's requirement was that truth be told, I didn't have many friends. I never talked to my dad about it, but I was pretty much a loner at that point in my life. Sure, I had a few schoolyard chums, but we weren't really on the "trick-or-treating together" level of our friendship. So, against my better judgment, I lied to my Dad and went solo. ​ Vampires were all the rage this particular year, it seemed like every other kid at my school had plastic fangs, long black capes and horrible Transylvania accents. "I vant to suck your blood! Blegh!" You know, the corny-ass Dracula voice. I, however, decided to go against the grain and dress up as my favorite monster– a werewolf! Dad spared no expense getting me a full-body costume, with realistic fur and all, I even had a full face mask if you can believe that! I was excited, this would be a night I'd remember forever! Little did I know how right I was about that. ​ After Dad set out, I made a little map of all the houses I wanted to hit up for candy. My neighborhood was decent, but I heard rumors that houses on Stephenson Road gave out full-speed candy bars, the holy grail for a kid on Halloween! Sure, that street was about a 20-minute walk, but I figured if I got through my neighborhood early enough I'd be there and back before it got too late! Dad said he would call the house at 10:00 to make sure I was home, if I wasn't there to answer I'd be in trouble. ​ A surprisingly crisp air blew past me bringing the smell of distant candles, pumpkins and sweets with it as I walked down the street to my first batch of houses. Kids were galivanting around in sugar-induced hyper spells, parents desperately trying to keep up with them, and the occasional older sibling trying to convince their younger more gullible sibling that a pack of raisins was a fair trade for a Snickers bar. I was overwhelmed with joy at the atmosphere around me. ​ After about an hour, I was nearly done with my neighborhood, and the haul was sweet. My makeshift pillowcase bag was just over halfway full, a sizable haul for me. It was 8:00 p.m., and I debated whether or not I even needed to go to Stephenson Road. After a brief inner monologue about this likely being my final year trick or treating and missing out on my last chance to get full-sized candy bars, I began the trek out of my neighborhood. ​ Once I made it to my destination, the reward was oh-so-sweet! Not only did all the houses have full-sized candy bars, but they each gave me two! My bag filled up pretty damn quickly after only another half hour. A few of the people asked if I was alone, they seemed a little concerned, so I lied and said my Dad was just down the road in his truck. I'm not sure why I lied, I guess I was afraid one of the more overzealous parents would want to go with me for the rest of the walk or even take me home. Couldn't have that happen until I hit every single house on the road! ​ After the final house, I made my way back down the road as a few of the houses began to turn their porch lights off, cloaking the road in darkness. It was a little after 9:00 pm now, so long as I made my way home I'd be back in time for Dad's 10:00 pm check-in. If nothing else, Dad was always very punctual and I realize now a part of him was likely still worried for me, even if he did think I was with friends. ​ While I was making my way home, a cold wind blew past me, it sent a chill down my spine and made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I told myself this happened due to the cold, but walking back to my neighborhood on that dark road all by myself, I suddenly became frightened at my situation. I picked up the pace a little, yearning to see the street light at the beginning of the stretch of houses that made up my neighborhood. ​ The sound of my heavy breathing and footsteps was the only noise I heard around me as I walked. Suddenly, a sound came from somewhere nearby. I could hear music, not just any music, but Halloween music. I stopped and listened for a moment to determine where it was coming from, it seemed to be coming from just ahead. Confused, scared and a little curious, I jogged to see where the music was coming from. Just past the trees, I could see the glow of a porch light, and I made out an old gravel driveway. I stopped and looked upon a house that was done up with all manner of decorations, and lights, and it even had a speaker playing the fantastical creepy music. I was in absolute awe of the marvelous home before me. ​ It took me a couple of minutes to realize that I didn't notice this house on my way to Stephenson Road. Surely I wouldn't have missed this spectacle as I walked this way? I chalked it up to the lights have been off, thinking maybe the owners of the home were late getting off work. Stranger things have happened. While I was thinking this over, I noticed a man was sitting on the porch with a big bowl. We made eye contact, and he began to wave at me, at first to say hello, then to call me over. He was smiling and seemed nice enough. Just a normal older man in jeans and a rather ugly pumpkin-coloured sweater. ​ I looked at my watch, it was only 9:24 and I was nearly home, surely one more house wouldn't hurt! I walked down the gravel driveway to greet the man. Making my way up the steps to his porch it creaked under the unexpected weight. The man stood up, setting the bowl down and using a cane to help support himself. He smiled as I held out my bag "Trick or treat!" I said warmly. "Oh my," he started "a wolf man! It has been a while since I've seen one of those. That's great!" He said with a friendly chuckle. ​ I was a little unsure of what to do next, so I laughed and responded "Yeah, werewolves are my favorite!" I said proudly. The old man leaned in and whispered "Can I tell you a secret? They're mine too!" He chuckled as he reached for his bowl, stopping suddenly. "Oh, dear." He said defeated. "How did I run out of candy already with the late start I had? Guess I'll have to grab some more from inside." He said as he began to slowly make his way to the door, he gripped the handle and it opened with a loud creak. Stopping in the doorway he turned to me, "Why don't you come in for a sec son? Get out of the cold while I fetch some more candy for you?" ​ Looking back at this moment as an adult, I know how insane my next actions were, but I was just a kid. I was trusting, the man had been nothing but kind to me and living in a rural area we were taught to always be polite. "Oh, sure okay, thank you, sir," I said as I followed the man inside. Walking past the threshold I felt a chill go down my spine again as the door shut behind me. I shivered as I looked around, there was nothing odd about the inside of his home. It was a little unkempt, but so was my Dad and I so it didn't seem strange to me. The man turned to me with a smile "Why don't you have a seat? I'll just be a moment." He said trailing off as he walked into another room. ​ Sitting down on a chair I waited for the man to bring me my goodies. As I sat looking around his home, I noticed a rather peculiar smell in the air, at first I couldn't place it, then after a few minutes I determined what the smell reminded me of, pennies. A strong smell of copper filled the air around me, but I was unsure what else smelled like that other than the now obsolete one-cent coin. God, if only I had known I would have run out of that fucking house right then and there. ​ I sat for what felt like an eternity while I heard the man shuffling around in the other room. After a while, I heard the man yell from the other room "You think you could come help me for a second? I can't seem to find where I put my darn cane." he shouted, clearly frustrated. I let out a sigh and stood up, walking towards the room his voice was coming from. Walking down the hall, the smell was getting stronger, it was almost unbearable. With a final step, I turned into the room the man's voice was coming from, as I stepped into the room I looked down at my watch and noticed that the time still read 9:23 pm. I stared at it thinking maybe my battery was dying. ​ I heard a weird squishing sound as I walked, and looked down at my feet. Covering my shoes was a sticky thick layer of blood. I had never seen much blood before aside from a smell cut here or there, but I knew what it looked like and there was so much of it, all over the floor and my shoes. I felt my skin grow pale and a cold sweat hit me as I slowly lifted my head. The sight that my 13-year-old self was met with was indescribable but I will do my best to explain it. Hanging from the blood-soaked ceiling by large hooks were dozens of horribly mutilated corpses. ​ Their flesh had been torn away in strips and there were large bite marks in some spots on their bodies. Blood was still oozing from several of them into a pile on the floor. There were children, teenagers and adults. All dead, all with the majority of their flesh missing. A couple of them were even missing their eyes. God, the way those eyeless corpses looked, their mouths wide open as if in a silent scream capturing their final moments of life in horrifying pain. I was too scared to make a sound and too sick to my stomach to even throw up. ​ I took several steps back as I began to hyperventilate, fear beginning to take over. Suddenly, I bumped into something, and I felt a strong hand rest on my shoulder. I nearly screamed, as I slowly looked up to see the once kind-looking old man smiling down at me. He had blood all over his face and bits of flesh in his teeth. His eyes were now pure black and he didn't need his cane to support his weight. I was horrified, tears began to fill my eyes as the man opened his mouth impossibly wide, ready to take a bite out of me. I tried to run but his grip was too strong, it was as if I was being held in place by chains. I closed my eyes, hoping it would be over quickly. I wished at that moment that I had just stayed home, or that my dad could have come with me. ​ Suddenly– I heard a weak gurgling yell come from the room behind us, "RUN!" it yelled. I opened my eyes and looked to see that one of the bodies hanging from the ceiling was trying to free himself and making as much noise as possible. More skin tore from his back as he wiggled to get loose from the hooks embedded within him. RUN!" he yelled again, this time with such force as if any life he had left was being used to make the sound. I looked up at the old man who was looking over at him, distracted and his grip loosening as he debated on going over to the man who was now taunting him. This was my only chance. I ran, faster than I ever had before, I made it to the door and flung it open, I threw myself out, but felt something grip my lower leg. ​ Falling on the porch, I looked back to see the old man had slipped on the blood chasing after me, covering him in it head-to-toe. His mouth was growing even larger as he let out a demonic bellowing screech. With tears in my eyes, I kicked at him, again, and again until finally I hit him in the eye which caused him to recoil. I threw myself off the porch, got up, and ran down the driveway. I didn't stop running until I reached my driveway. ​ By the time I had arrived, my father was I'm the driveway, seemingly ready to get in his truck to come find me. He began to yell, but I just ran to him and hugged him. I was crying and wailing in fear. It caught him off guard and any anger he had for me missing my curfew by almost 2 hours seemed to vanish. He took me inside and looked me over. The fur of my costume was covered in blood. He tore it off me and looked me over, tending to a large scratch on my leg. After comforting me, he asked me to tell him what happened. I could barely form words, but I managed to get out that a man down the road did this and had real dead bodies in his house. That he tried to eat me. The real blood all over my costume was evidence enough for my dad to call the police. They investigated the area over the next couple of hours. ​ The next morning, a rather annoyed police officer asked me some generic questions. It seemed that they had looked up and down the road all night for this so-called house, but couldn't find it. They had me show them where it was, but…it was gone. I couldn't explain it, I knew what I experienced was real, and I had the bloody costume and scratch marks on my leg to prove it. The police chalked it up to a prank gone a little too far and called off the search. ​ My Dad never doubted me, but there was only so much he could do. Sometimes at night, he'd go up and down the road looking for the mysterious house, but he never found anything. He spent years trying to find it, or the man I described. He would never forgive himself for not being there with me that night, although, I’m not sure if things would have been any different. Maybe we would be traumatized together? Or, much worse. Halloween was never the same for me, even after seeing several therapists, the idea of leaving the safety of my home on that night, or most nights for that matter, seemed impossible. ​ Now, all these years later I still think about that night a lot. What was that house? What was the creature inside of it? Does it only come out on Halloween? I'll never have any answers. But most of all, I think about that man who saved my life. It was likely the parent of a child who just wanted to go trick or treating and thought the house looked like a good stop. They were lured in, like a moth to a flame by all the mesmerizing lights and decorations. However, even though the pain must have been unbearable, that man saw that the creature was about to kill another child and wouldn't stand for it, a final act of defiance and courage saved my life. He was a hero, my hero. I just wish I could thank him, or even better, that I could have saved him. Survivor's guilt is a hell of a thing to live with. ​ So that's it, the last time I ever went trick-or-treating. ​ The only thing I have left to say to you is this: if you're walking down a dark road on Halloween Night and you come across a marvelously decorated house and a nice old man, ***run.***

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17c8mxv/the_last_time_i_went_trickortreating/

scarystories

thedreadfiles

Tapping on my door at 2 am

Me and my friends were sleeping in the living room for a sleepover, there are 2 glass doors facing the back garden, with curtains in front of them. My air matress was in front of these doors. I had a nap at around half past midnight and woke up at 3. While sitting on the couch my fiends tell me that while they were sitting on the couch playing some siege, they heard a slow and hard tapping on the window about 6 times. This freaked me out aton, paranormal or not. Can someone explain what this was?(this is real)

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17cmhh4/tapping_on_my_door_at_2_am/

scarystories

Spiritual-Arm-2550

The Illuminati's Sinister Game

**In the darkest corners of the internet, I stumbled upon a cryptic forum, its users whispering about an Illuminati game, a sinister contest that could plunge the world into chaos. It was a tale that chilled me to the core.** **The forum threads contained fragmented messages, riddles, and encrypted files, and it was said that only those who solved these puzzles would be initiated into the Illuminati's inner circle. Intrigued and perhaps a little foolish, I decided to delve into this enigmatic world.** **As I ventured deeper, I encountered a group of individuals who believed that the Illuminati was real and that their ultimate goal was world domination. They claimed that the game was the key to unraveling the Illuminati's plans and stopping them.** **The puzzles grew more complex, each one leading to another, and soon, I found myself consumed by the quest for answers. Days turned into weeks, and I was unable to break free from the grip of the game.** **But as I ventured further down the rabbit hole, strange things began to happen in my life. I received cryptic messages on my phone, and shadowy figures seemed to follow me. I became convinced that I was being watched.** **My obsession with the game had taken a toll on my physical and mental well-being. I couldn't trust anyone, and I began to doubt my own sanity. I knew I had to escape this nightmare, but the game had me firmly in its clutches.** **One night, as I was on the brink of solving a particularly intricate puzzle, I received a final message. It was a warning, a threat from the Illuminati itself. They knew who I was, what I was doing, and they would stop at nothing to protect their secrets.** **Terrified, I made a choice. I abandoned the game and disconnected from the forum. But the shadows never truly left me. I felt their presence, their relentless pursuit.** **To this day, I live in fear, uncertain if the Illuminati's watchful eye still follows me. I don't know what secrets I was getting too close to, or if they were simply toying with my mind. One thing is clear, though: The Illuminati's game is real, and once you're ensnared, escape is nearly impossible.** **Beware the dark corners of the internet, for the Illuminati's sinister game may be closer than you think.**

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17ckj1g/the_illuminatis_sinister_game/

scarystories

Last_Salt2022

Is he still here?

I woke up. Just to noticed two things. It was nighttime. And my window had been bent open. This was weird because the way it was bent showed signs of something of a decent size trying to get in. So i managed to make it go back to be normal and went back with on with my day. My family decided to go over to one of the neighbors house for a cook out. But i stayed home, something i usually did and i thought, well since i stayed home i might as well take a nap. And i did. I once again woke up pulled the curtains open and it was nighttime. Again. only this time the window was busted from both sides showing clear sign of someone trying to get in. I tried to look around to see what did this. Looking through fields trying to find a clue. just to look down into the field closest to me and see a man. A man that was just standing there, facing in my direction. I couldnt see where he was facing due to it being so dark but i knew he was there and that he had done that to the window. i leaped for my phone that was sitting on my bed and dialed for my parents. While i locked my door and blocked what i could of the window. The most horrible thing about this? no one was picking up. i knew he was coming and that he was gonna get me. i kept calling. i called my mom. dad. sister. and even my ex boyfriend. finally my mom picked up. i quickly told her to get here and that there was a man outside and i needed help. but due to the party music she couldn't here and our call was disconnected. i freaked and started calling everyone again. this time my father picked up and i again told him what was happening and that he need to come over quickly. He said he would come to check and i now was left alone to wait. I waiting there. Then. I heard my dad pull up. I was so relived. just to hear him walk around outside and go back into his truck to leave once more. i was going to be left alone. i jumped out the window. out of the gap that was made in it. ran toward the street. naked. with only a towel on me. i have no idea how i got to that state. as we now walked to the neighbors house i could see and hear something in the fields. quickly making its way to were we where going. once safe. i woke up. i woke up terrified, sweating, and on the verge of tears. It had been years since i last had a nightmare. I sat up in my bed, relived it was just a dream. i got up to go to the bathroom. a bit scared i didn't want to go. but i came back noticed....

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17c81q2/is_he_still_here/

scarystories

zuttq

yo y'all, I post scary stories on my YouTube, so please go check it out

here is the link: https://youtube.com/@misaemousek?si=iKojSox5cAYKsIDB

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17cdvet/yo_yall_i_post_scary_stories_on_my_youtube_so/

scarystories

Upset_Table_7768

Dream Market Abyss

In the future city of Ophelian, dreams turned into commodities, where a disillusioned dream peddler named Everett fell into a sinister world of stolen memories and forbidden desires. As he dug deeper, he encountered the Veiled One, a client with an insatiable appetite for horror and longing. With each transaction, Everett found himself trapped in a nightmarish web, uncovering the city's dark secrets and ancient evils that hungered for human dreams. In the neon-lit dream dens, he unraveled gruesome visions, feeling an ancient malevolence encircle his soul, promising power in exchange for his sanity. Haunted by apparitions, Everett descended into madness, realizing the Veiled One was a harbinger of primal evil, craving the essence of human dreams. In the depths of his fractured mind, forgotten nightmares and traumas converged into a grotesque fusion of terror and aberrations, threatening to consume his very being. As Ophelian plunged into a maelstrom of spectral frenzy and unearthly malevolence, the boundaries between dreams and reality dissolved, leaving Everett trapped in a waking nightmare where redemption demanded blood, and the echoes of forbidden desires whispered through the labyrinth of his tormented mind. Haunted by the ceaseless whispers of the tormented and the shadows that danced at the periphery of his vision, Everett's grip on reality slipped further as the Veiled One's sinister influence tightened its hold. Faces from his past, twisted and contorted, emerged from the depths of his subconscious, their accusing gazes searing into his very soul. They were the forgotten casualties of a trade built upon the fragments of stolen dreams, their anguished pleas echoing through the labyrinthine corridors of his mind. In the heart of Ophelian, where the boundaries between the material world and the ethereal realm blurred, Everett found himself confronting the malevolent essence that hungered for the essence of human dreams. A cacophony of disembodied voices reverberated through the city's alleys, each whisper carrying a fragment of an unspeakable truth that threatened to unravel the fabric of his sanity. The dream market, once a realm of illusion and escapism, now pulsated with a primal energy, a dark force that fed on the fears and desires of those who dared to surrender to its seductive embrace. Within the depths of the Veiled One's lair, Everett bore witness to a grotesque tableau of agony and ecstasy, where the boundaries between pleasure and pain, ecstasy and torment, became indistinguishable, merging into a nightmarish symphony that echoed through the recesses of his fractured consciousness. With every step into the Veiled One's realm, Everett realized that the true horror lay not in the twisted apparitions that besieged him, nor in the malevolent entities that lurked within the shadows, but in the revelation that the most profound darkness resided within the depths of the human spirit, waiting to be unleashed by the allure of forbidden dreams. As the tendrils of the Veiled One's influence coiled around him, Everett knew that his only chance for salvation lay in confronting the demons of his past and unraveling the sinister mysteries that lay at the heart of Ophelian's cursed dreamscape.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17cddwj/dream_market_abyss/

scarystories

RedditInspStory

Have you ever woken up in the middle of the night and felt a strange presence in the room?

tell me your stories

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17caqxi/have_you_ever_woken_up_in_the_middle_of_the_night/

scarystories

Loose_Blueberry_9853

One Bad Day pt2

Our first “adventure” began about as weird as you’d expect, we had to track down according to B a cat, getting ahead of myself here though. When I shook his hand at the hospital all my wounds seemed to heal which seemed crazy at first but then thinking about the fact I just survived an attack from a giant dog thing can’t say I was too surprised. After we got into his old impala and starting driving towards Georgia, he looked at me slightly puzzled and said “Mr.Beck?, you know usually people would have many many questions about what’s going on, but you don’t seem to have many, why? Taken a back I paused to think on the question, “well I always figured there was more out there I guess?, I don’t know why to be honest just seems like if I’m the only one who can see like you, that you’ve met then it’s safe to say this is probably where I’m intended/needed to be” He just smirked and kept driving, but I couldn’t help but feel he knows more then his questions suggest, once we reached our location he turned and starred almost in a expecting way, before I said “what?”, and finally saying what’s been on my mind “why does it seem like you know something I don’t in our situation?” He laughed and said “come on, not much time now” and left the vehicle. Following him we approach a huge medieval looking church, opening the old creeky door I say “are you not gonna tell me why we’re here?” In an annoyed voice “We’ll I don’t really know, won’t know what’s causing the problem until we find it” I said “so im expected to do this job not knowing what I’ll need or what I’m doing/going up against?” With a puzzled and frustrated look “Yup” he said smirking as he walked through the old building The inside looked about as old as the outside, old but fancy, the room you walk into is huge with stairs straight ahead and a door way to the left leading to the kitchen area and the right leading to the main room with all the chairs and a stage for the pastor. “Creepy looking” I muttered as we walked towards the stairwell Going up B started to whistle some strange toon that sounds familiar to farmer and the dog or hare who knows; as we approached the top we heard someone finish the whistle in another room Startled a look at b, smirking he says “atleast we know it’s atleast semi human” “How so?” I say confusingly “What animal besides a parrot do you know that can whistle while also finishing the tune before I did?, also it proves they have some sort of consciousness” Now I’m not expert in the matter but what he said kinda makes sense, how or why would a monster or beastly creature whistle back and not just attack? Anyways B walked up and around the corner with so much confidence it’s honestly kinda intimidating, like we still have no clue what this thing could be Once I turn the corner I see B entering the room at the end of the hall, sprinting towards the door I slam through to see B and a women just standing and now staring at me With a puzzled look I ask “So no monster?” B said “yea I’m still not sure man but nice to see you care” with a half hearted chuckle “Fuck you” I murmur smirkingly “I’m not a monster” the pretty but almost skeleton like women said “To be decided” b said “but for now you’re coming with us” Well shit sorry guys I’ll have to continue writing the story when I have time, the cafe were at is starting to close, gotta stay on the move, see y’all soon sorry for the to be continued and will update when things calm down a little.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17ca7jl/one_bad_day_pt2/

scarystories

BlackPepper445

I thought it was my brother

I’m posting all my freaky experiences in one go because I feel like sharing them. Sorry for spamming all of them all haha. I got home from school one afternoon and went into the upstairs washroom. My parents come home from work at 5 and my brother gets home usually 20 minutes after me. While I was using the washroom, I hear the front door squeak open and slam. It’s a very specific noise. I assumed my brother was home and didn’t bother calling out to him. A few minutes later (I was still in the washroom), I hear the door open again. This time, my brother calls out “Hello?” And I literally stared wide-eyed at the bathroom door. I rushed out and greeted him at the stairs and said “did you just come home” and he said yeah. I found out nobody had been home while the door opened the first time. I was terrified because someone could’ve either came into my house or just left. I never figured out what happened, but I’m alive now so whatever.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bqdil/i_thought_it_was_my_brother/

scarystories

FailureTM

Creeping darkness

For it was a long day, I worked and worked and now I get to rest beside a fire while the sky turns to an obsidian dome with white dots. The fire crackled, it sounded like small little firecrackers but less violent and far,far more smoothing. The wind blew with such force that the trees swayed back and forth, and it sounded like a giant whistling. I layed there listening to these sounds with my eyes closed right on the edge of a dream, a new world I could explore and perhaps even an adventure to experience. Maybe even a nightmare where my greatest fears are right before my eyes. But as I lay there suddenly everything stopped, the only sound was silence. The fire had become nothing more than a small little flame and the wind was no longer blowing with the sound of rage. I got up and as one usually does when awoken from slumber looked around and felt slightly annoyed. As I sat on the edge of my bed looking around, suddenly there was some noise from the edge of the woods that sounded like a squeal or a yelp of pain and frustration. I sat there paranoid, I was either hallucinating or something was out in the woods. I didn’t want to but I needed to calm my shaken spirit and mind so I got up and looked out my window, there was nothing there but slight fog and what seemed like endless trees. I sat back down relieved and calm, I layed down to resume my interrupted rest. Yet again from that forest that noise came, but this time it sounded louder and closer. I immediately shot up and ran to my window to see, yet again it was just fog and trees. The only difference was that the fog had gotten thicker and denser and the sky seemed daker. But this time my spirit was not calmed. My mind raced with images of a creature like a wendigo or some evil demon toying with me to drive me mad. I began to pace and pace around my little cabin thinking of what was making that horrendous noise that ran over and over in my mind. Yet again that noise came, it was louder and closer sounded as though it was right outside my cabin.I jumped and made a small little squeal out of fear and horror. What could be out there, what monster could be watching me, torturing me, making my paranoia eat at my insides. Yet again I looked out my window but I couldn’t see anything, the window was fogged up and completely dark. I was panicking,pacing, I wanted to scream but I didn't want to make myself known to what every creature was surrounding me. Finally, I stared into space and I heard my door creep open, a black fog came in through the door. I stared in shock and terror then the fog began to engulf me, it felt like my lungs were being shoved full of water.I couldn’t breathe as this thing, this monster, this creature of night strangled me. I wanted to scream,to run but I couldn't because the fog seeped in through every hole in my body. My eye sockets looked as though I was crying smoke as it seeped in and caused rivers of blood to flow out,it entered my bowels and intestines and I felt it tear them apart. Finally the pain ended, nothing surrounded me but darkness and I shivered due to the cold that now surrounded me. It seemed as though I ceased to exist, perhaps I am in some horrible torture in the heart of hell for eternity, forever. For what Have I done to deserve such a terrible punishment, I didn’t kill anyone, I never robbed anyone. But here I am stuck, in this eternal darkness.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17by6ku/creeping_darkness/

scarystories

HovercraftHot670

Blink

Have you ever paid attention to how the toys blink in *Toy Story*? They kind of blink one eye at a time. It's called "offset blinking," and according to Google, it's used in cinema to signify an out-of-place character. I don't think I can ever watch another Pixar movie again. It was my uncle who was "taken" first. He'd been living with us for a while. "Just til he gets back on his feet," my mother always said, but he had trouble walking sometimes and was a little hard to understand when he spoke. Dad had stopped keeping a six-pack in his garage mini-fridge after Uncle Jack moved in. He might have been gone for months before we noticed. Maybe it wasn't Uncle Jack that moved in in the first place. All I know is that, about six months in, strange shit started happening. At first, it was stupid stuff. Lights would flicker and electronics would stop working while he was in the room. It wasn't often enough to be obvious that it was because of him, but it was annoying to be in the middle of watching *Justice League* and have the TV cut out just as Lex Luthor was about to reveal The Flash's secret identity or have the channel change to *My Little Pony*. Sometimes the clock radio in his room would come on by itself at night. Dad said it was because it was old and had bad wires, but I slept in the next room, and something about hearing *Wild Thing* at three in the morning freaked me out every time. It wasn't just plugged-in electronics that were faulty, either. One time, I used a calculator to do my math homework--I was never very good at division--and when I brought it in the next day, Mrs. Black said all of the answers were wrong. I wanted to tell her they couldn't be, but that would mean telling her I cheated. So I kept my mouth shut and asked my friend, Kenny, if I could borrow his over the weekend. I had to trade him my Blastoise card for the weekend so he knew I'd give it back, but I decided I'd rather risk that than bringing back another bad math grade on my report card. It was my mom that started having trouble sleeping first. She always said she had insomnia as a kid, so she wasn't too worried at first, but I could tell she was exhausted. There were bags under her eyes, and it took longer for her to do chores than it used to. I heard her and my dad talking about it when they thought I was busy watching TV, but even though I had *Teen Titans* on, the sound was from *The Fairly Odd Parents*, and Uncle Jack was snoring in the recliner, which was making it hard to focus on either story. "Abby, come on. It's been days." "Have you noticed the birds have stopped singing?" "What? You're not making any sense." "I've been up with the sunrise every day for a week, Mark. The birds don't sing anymore. Not here. I didn't even notice until I went for a walk yesterday. It was almost deafening a block away after not hearing it for so long. What's wrong with the birds?" "You're hysteric, Abs. You need to sleep. Please. Take melatonin or benadryl or *something* tonight. Your body is wearing out." "I'm not hysteric, Mark. I'm clearer than ever. If I sleep, I'll be next." "Next for *what*?" "Look. Look at that squirrel. Did you see it *blink*?" "Abigail--" "You know they're probably getting a divorce, right?" I hadn't even noticed my sister sit down next to me. Her fingers scratched at where her eyebrow should have been, vainly looking for purchase in the form of any hair she may have missed during her own insomnia-fueled pulling session. "What?" "Mom and Dad. Dad's mad that Uncle Jack is here. They've been fighting a lot." "Is that why you've been pulling again?" Her hand quickly covered her missing eyebrows. "Is it obvious?" "You might want to look in the mirror. Cover it up before dad sees you." "*Fuck.*" She moved toward the bathroom, quietly as possible, probably glad that our parents were too focused on their own problems to notice her yet. I could've told on her for cursing, but Uncle Jack had just woken up, and as he rubbed his eyes and stumbled out of the room, Robin revealed that *he* had been Red X the entire time. I had more important things to worry about. It was a week later that Dad started acting funny. It wasn't unusual for him to come home late acting like Uncle Jack, but when he walked in at 4 P.M., way sooner than he should have been off work, holding onto the doorframe to steady himself, I got scared. At the time, I thought it was because he was drunk, and Dad wasn't always the nicest when he'd been drinking, but there was something different about this fear. Something *primal*. He stumbled into the living room and sat down opposite Uncle Jack. The TV was playing pure static, but they both seemed completely enthralled. I was more confused. Dad and Uncle Jack were never in the same room together. Dad couldn't stand him. What had changed? I was about to go in to change the channel when I was pulled backward so quickly that I would have fallen on my ass if my mom hadn't pulled me against her. At the same time, she clapped a hand over my mouth. I was in too much shock to fight her as she turned me around to face her. She released my mouth and, at the same time, placed a finger over her own. "Shhhhhh." She waved me into the kitchen. I followed her. The blinds had been shut in the dining room, so I hadn't gotten a good look at her, but in the light of the kitchen, I saw how bad she looked. Her eyes were wide, almost lidless, and completely bloodshot. She looked like she still hadn't slept. I knew she had, since I'd seen her passed out on the couch when Dad and Uncle Jack were gone the day before, but it couldn't have been more than a couple of hours. "They can only get you if you *no*tice," she hissed. "Mom? Are you okay?" "Don't notice them!" Her whisper was somehow even more unnerving that time. "Nothing is wrong. Everything is normal. It's the birds. They're in*fect*ing us. They're going to get us all. No one is safe. But you don't notice. You *can't* notice. Nothing can happen if you don't *no*tice." "Mom, have you slept at all? Dad said--" "He's one of *them* now! You can't sleep! He *noticed*! Everything is *fine*." She wasn't making any sense, and she hadn't blinked once in the time we'd been standing in the kitchen. I was more worried about her than I was about the odd behavior of my dad and Uncle Jack, who were still-- I couldn't hear the TV anymore. "Whatcha doing there, Mikey?" I whirled around. My dad and Uncle Jack were standing behind me. They blinked in unison, but something was wrong. I couldn't quite place it. They were both standing straight now. They didn't seem drunk anymore. They seemed... Different. The fear rose in me again, but mom said nothing. "Mom's... Mom's acting weird," I said, talking without thinking. "I don't think she's slept. I was trying to--" "Yes, Abigail. You should sleep." "I'm okay, Mark. Thank you. I was just telling Mikey he should listen to the birds. They sound beautiful today, don't they?" My dad cocked his head. "Yes. They do." They blinked again, and my stomach turned. "Is there something wrong with your eyes, Dad?" "No, Mikey. It's just an eyelash. I'm fine." There was a whisper from Uncle Jack, still standing behind him. I barely caught it. "*They'll all be fine soon.*" My mom smiled, and Dad and Uncle Jack smiled back. They turned, still in unison, and walked back to the living room. "Everything is *nor*mal," my mom whispered in my ear. After that, I started noticing things. There wasn't a gradual shift. I had trouble sleeping that night, and the dreams I had were all about people who weren't themselves. They'd blink like the toys in *Toy Story*, and as they did, flakes would fall off to reveal a bird-monster underneath. I went to school groggy and in an overall bad mood the next day, but despite how tired I felt, my eyes were wide open for the first time. There were no birds--not just no birds singing, but the hawk I saw overhead didn't cry, and the crows on the side of the road didn't caw. I turned to my friend, Bobby. "What's up with the birds today, man?" He paused as if to listen. "They do sound cool, huh?" I was about to tell him that he was nuts because the birds hadn't made a sound when he blinked. I caught it this time. My dreams had shown me what I was missing. His right eye was just a little behind his left in the motion. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and nodded. "Yeah, man. Way cooler than normal." We rode the rest of the way in silence, but at every stop, I watched the other kids getting on the bus. They didn't always blink before they walked past me, but some did. About half of them were wrong. School was the same. Everyone acted normal. There was no obvious sign that half of my classmates had been taken over by whatever was happening. They talked and laughed like they always did, although I did notice, throughout the day, a few people stumbling on their way to class. By the time we'd have another period together, though, they'd be back to themselves. Except they all blinked wrong. At lunch, I heard Susie mention it to Tonya. "I don't know what's wrong with Jenn," she said. "She's been saying she has an eyelash in her eye all day. I told her to go see the nurse. Like, after three classes, it can't just be an eyelash. She probably has like, a sty or something. But she just kept saying 'everything is fine.' She's getting on my fucking nerves." I remembered what my mom had said. "Nothing can happen if you don't notice." I thought about saying something to Susie, but for all I knew, my mom had just been rambling. She hadn't slept properly in weeks. And I'd had a crush on Susie for three years. I didn't want to embarrass myself. By the end of the next class, I'd wished I had. Susie stumbled into me. We both fell to the floor, much to the amusement of our peers. I'd probably be worried about the "Mikey and Susie sitting in a tree" jeers that would follow us for the rest of the year if I wasn't so focused on her eyes. She blinked, and I can't quite explain how, but I knew it wasn't the same blink that yje others were doing. This time, as her left and then right eye closed and reopened, it was *directed* at me. They *knew* I knew. "Sorry, Mikey." "N-no problem, Susie. Happens all the time." I helped her gather her things, trying to pretend I hadn't noticed. "Gotta be careful of that lose tile coming out of Mr. Self's room." Her laugh gave me chills. It was *too* genuine. "Thanks for your help! See you later?" Left eye, right eye. "Sure." I watched her leave, and then I booked it. I didn't care that the day was only half over. I didn't care that deviating from the schedule would give me away. As I ran, the lights in the building flickered behind me, and I could have sworn that everyone stopped to stare. I needed leave. I needed to get home. * * * I slammed the door behind me so hard that it made the lights flash, not thinking about who might be home but making sure to lock it behind me. I knew my sister had stayed home sick with Mom today, but if they needed to keep their cover, Dad and Uncle Jack should still be out for a few more hours. It should be pretty safe. I started for the stairs, figuring I should pack a go-bag, when I saw my sister standing at the top. "You're home early," she said, rubbing her eye. She must have just gotten up. "Yeah, I, uh, I must have caught whatever bug you have. Wasn't feeling great. Are you doing any better?" "Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm okay. I was mostly just dizzy earlier. I'm better now. Just need to get this stupid eyelash out of my eye." I froze, two stairs from the bottom. My sister had trichotillomania. It's a hair pulling disorder, and for her, stress and insomnia make it worse. It's been a big deal for years, and it's one of the main reasons she and my dad fight. That's why she never has any eyebrows. It's also why she hasn't had eyelashes since she was nine. "I just remembered: I left my backpack in the kitchen. I need to grab that." She cocked her head at me. She stopped rubbing her eye. "Wild Thing" started playing on every radio in the house. "What's *wrong*, Mikey?" She blinked. Left eye, right eye. "Nothing! I'm just--I'm just not feeling good. That's all." She took a step toward me. "Do you want to hear the birds again, Mikey?" "Wh-what?" "Do you want to hear the birds again?" I was still searching for an answer when my mother appeared behind Liz with a knife. She plunged it into my sister's back before I had time to process what was going on. My sister turned to face her attacker and was met with a firm shove that sent her tumbling down the stairs. I let out a sob as I watched her fall, even though I knew, whatever that thing was, it wasn't my sister. As the light left her eyes, the music faded out. The blood pooling at the base of the stairs was thicker, darker than any blood should be. It smelled sweet, and it made me want to throw up. Whatever had taken over my sister had died facing me, left eye half-closed and mouth wide open. I couldn't scream as I watched my mother kill what used to be my sister, but when I looked at my mother again, I did. She looked even worse than she had when I left, but it wasn't the bags under her eyes or pale skin that got to me. As I followed the trail of blood up her face, I could see that my mother no longer had any eyelids. She seemed even more inhuman than whatever had taken my sister as she stared at me, chest heaving, far too gone to fully process that she had just murdered what used to be her only daughter. She approached me, and I stepped backwards, slipping slightly in the too-dark blood still coming from the body of what used to be my sister. "Don't run, Mikey," my mother said. "I figured it out. They can't get you if you *don't close your eyes*. We'll be safe. You and me." She pulled a switchblade from her pocket and flipped it open. "I was too late for Liz. But there's still time for you. We can stay safe. To*geth*er." I tried to run, but I tripped over my sister's body. My mother was on top of me before I knew what was happening. "Shhhhhh. It's gonna be okay, baby. I've got you." She held my eye closed with one hand as I felt the knife press into the lid. "I've got you." The pain was like nothing I'd ever felt before. I'd never known what truly excruciating pain was like before that moment. I could feel everything, and it was so close to my brain that I could *hear* my skin being removed from my body. That sound will never leave me. I tried to fight her off, but my vision was blurred by the blood pooling into my eye, and I was in shock. As she started on my left eye, I could feel myself passing out. The last thing I heard was the door bursting open before everything went black. *** I woke up in a hospital room. They told me my mom had had a psychotic break, killed my sister, my dad, and Uncle Jack. She'd seen the Alfred Hitchcock movie, *The Birds*, as a kid, and it had really messed her up. She started seeing flashes of the movie when she closed her eyes, and the longer she went without sleeping, the worse it got. Eventually, she decided that the only way to keep herself safe was to make sure she never slept again. She thought she could "save" me by doing the same to me. When the police tried to take her into custody, she said she'd die before she became one of them. She stabbed herself in the throat with the same knife she'd been using to remove my eyelids. Apparently, they got to me fast enough to save my eyelids. I don't know much about how the medical stuff works, but when I woke up, I had bandages on my face, and they told me it would hurt for a while, but I should regain almost normal blinking function. My right eye, though, given the fact that that eyelid had been *completely* removed, would probably always be a little behind my left, though. I smiled grimly. At least I had an excuse to give if anyone noticed. Not like those other fools. Eyelashes. Ha. It was always a terrible excuse. But no one had taken the time to really *study* the humans before we started. We were too hungry. I know how it works, of course. Michael's mother never had all of it right, but who can keep things straight when you're running off so little sleep? It wouldn't do me any good to tell you all of the details, anyway. It would ruin our *fun*. But we're out there. And now you know about us. That's what matters. Keep an eye out. Watch your family, your friends. Pay attention to how they blink. It's a subtle difference, but who knows? Maybe you'll get a head start. But we'll get you all, eventually. You'll know we're there when the birds stop singing.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17e8zpd/blink/

nosleep

ChipmunkOk6550

The Suburb's Sinister Secret

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across our tranquil suburban neighborhood of Willowbrook. The trees rustled softly in the evening breeze, and the houses stood silent, as if they were holding their breath. My heart still raced, my car speeding away from my own home, leaving me bewildered and terrified. I had driven to a nearby park, a secluded haven of nature amidst the suburban sprawl. I sat in the dimly lit car, clutching the steering wheel. The incident at home still replayed in my mind like a macabre movie. The strange behavior of my husband and children, the hushed conversations, the cold touch of Layla's hand, and those black eyes that had stared at me with an unsettling intensity. My phone buzzed on the passenger seat, breaking me out of my reverie. It was a call from my friend, Lisa. Desperate for guidance, I answered, my voice trembling as I recounted the bizarre events. "Kate, you need to come over right now," Lisa urged. "I've been hearing some strange things in the neighborhood. I'm worried about you." Swallowing my fear, I agreed and set out for Lisa's house, which was only a short drive away. As I pulled into the driveway, the warm glow of her porch light welcomed me, contrasting with the eerie atmosphere at home. Lisa greeted me with a tight hug, concern etched across her face. "I'm so glad you're here, Kate. Let's figure out what's going on." Once inside, we sat in Lisa's cozy living room. I relayed every detail, the growing sense of unease as I spoke, and Lisa listened intently, her brows furrowing. "I know this sounds crazy," I concluded. "But their eyes, Lisa, they were completely black." Lisa leaned in, her voice low and conspiratorial. "I've heard stories about something like this, something dark in Willowbrook. They say the neighborhood holds a sinister secret." My eyes widened, and I implored, "Tell me everything, Lisa. What do you know?" Lisa hesitated before recounting a chilling tale of Willowbrook's past. Decades ago, a group of residents, a secretive cult, was rumored to have taken root in the community. They were said to perform dark rituals, invoking malevolent forces that granted them extraordinary abilities. These sinister powers allowed them to control minds, manipulate reality, and bend the will of the community to their dark desires. The cult was believed to have vanished, but whispers persisted. Those who fell under their influence exhibited unnatural behavior. It was said that the cult sought new members to replenish their ranks, luring them with the promise of power and privilege. My husband, Layla, and Ben had become unwitting victims of the cult's sinister machinations. I sat in stunned silence as the implications of Lisa's story settled in. "So, what do we do now?" "We need to confront this head-on," Lisa declared. "We need to find the source of their power and break it. Only then can we free your family from their control." Together, we devised a plan to uncover the secrets hidden within Willowbrook. Lisa had been collecting information on the cult over the years and knew that the key to defeating them lay within a hidden underground chamber beneath an old oak tree in a nearby park. Armed with flashlights and our determination, we ventured into the woods. The night had grown darker, and the eerie silence was broken only by the chirping of crickets. The gnarled branches of the trees cast long, unsettling shadows on our path. Following Lisa's directions, we reached the oak tree. A concealed door revealed the entrance to the underground chamber. It was damp and filled with an ominous energy. The air was thick with malevolence. Inside, we discovered a cavern adorned with sinister symbols and eerie carvings. At the center of the chamber lay an ancient book, bound in dark leather and covered in dust. As we examined the book, we realized it was a tome of spells and incantations that granted the cult their powers. Lisa's eyes met mine, filled with determination. "We have to destroy this book. It's the only way to break their hold on your family." We gathered the book and set it ablaze, watching as the dark energy unraveled and vanished into thin air. The chamber shook, and the eerie symbols on the walls began to crumble. Back at Lisa's house, we waited with bated breath. Hours passed, and with each ticking minute, my anxiety grew. What if the destruction of the book had failed? What if the cult still held my family in their clutches? Just as doubt began to cloud my mind, the door creaked open. My husband, Layla, and Ben entered, their faces etched with confusion and fear. But their eyes were no longer black, and their expressions bore no trace of malevolence. "Mommy?" Layla's voice wavered as she ran to me, tears streaming down her face. "What happened to us?" I hugged my daughter tightly, tears of relief coursing down my cheeks. "You're back," I whispered. My husband and son rushed to me, and the family embraced, the weight of the sinister secret of Willowbrook finally lifted. Whatever dark force had held them had been vanquished. As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, I knew that my family was truly mine once more. Willowbrook had lost its sinister secret, and the neighborhood would never be the same again. The suburbs, once serene, had become a place of hidden darkness and dangerous secrets. But now, we had the power to stand against it, to protect our loved ones from the lurking malevolence that lay hidden beneath the façade of suburban tranquility. The events of that night would forever be etched in our memories, a chilling reminder of the horrors that could lie hidden in the most unexpected places.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17errr9/the_suburbs_sinister_secret/

nosleep

SecureProfile7830

In 2012, I was a contestant on a huge reality TV show. There's a reason why our season never aired.

*"Did the lights just go out?"* That was my last thought, overwhelmed with panic. But that panic was fading, replaced by a numbness in my body and blood that should have scared me. Instead, I felt… nothing, and nothing was oblivion, a deep cavern inside me that had picked me apart and left…*this.* There was nothing of me left, and what remained were splinters. I remembered my fingers wrapped around a wine glass. Figures around me. Laughter. I remembered feeling comfortable. Music in my ears, and the graze of cool air on my face. Someone playfully nudged me. Then… darkness. I woke up… cold. There were no coherent thoughts except that I was cold. I was so… *cold*. It was silent. My body felt strange, like it was nothing but a lump of flesh I was barely in control of. I blinked once, then twice. There was a sharp pain in the top of my mouth. Not enough to ignite a memory, but definitely enough for my lips to formulate words. "Fuck." I said to the ceiling in a croak. My voice had a low cadence, and was a stranger to me. Slowly, my surroundings swam into view. I was uncomfortably curled into large hot tub, my legs hanging over the edge, head pressed against ice cold porcelain and twisted at a weird angle. The light shining down on me was so bright. Too bright. Blinking rapidly, I shaded my eyes. Something wet dripped onto my forehead. Then again. It didn't feel like water. Water wasn't warm, with a thicker consistency. It felt like… soup. I had no significant memories, but I did remember sticking my hands in a bowl of soup and burning myself as a kid. I was frowning at my clothes, a short sleeved shirt and jeans, frayed rope still loosely coiled around my left wrist, when a third drop this time hit my cheek. This one was messier, sliding down my face. I remembered how to move, lifting my hand and catching stray drops. Bright red smeared my fingers when I dazedly stared down at them, my body jolting suddenly. Blood. It shouldn't have had a smell, especially one that was the equivalent of sticking my head in my roommate's fire noodles. *I had a roommate.* There was nothing attached to it, only a shadow in the back of my mind. The blood staining my hands stood out to me, like it was fake. Paint. I was suddenly aware of how dry my throat was. Scratchy. Like I hadn't drank in days. I was staring down at my hand, trying to figure out if I wanted to lick my palm, or wipe it on my shirt, when a fourth drop hit. This time it smeared the edge of the hot tub. Three consecutive drips. I should have felt something. Panic. Confusion. Maybe fear, if my body got a hold of itself. But no. Instead, my mouth burned. Not fire noodles burning. Real burning, like my throat was catching alight. *Water* was my immediate thought. I could see a working faucet across the bathroom, a silver spigot. I don't know if I was high, or maybe going crazy, but my vision had gone 0-1000 in a single minute, a foggy blur I could barely make out, bursting into vivid clarity. So clear, it was *too* clear. I don't think I was supposed to be able to see single tiny droplets of water clinging to the spigot. Tipping my head back, my gaze rolled to the ceiling lazily. More blood, my spotty brain was slow to point out. I was staring at bright red glimmering above me, like a plush carpet. Inclining my head, my jaw throbbed. Sensation was starting to drift back, and with it came the stink of decay. They were in the corner of my eye. I had already noticed them seconds before, but every time I thought about them, my body grew a mind of its own. Piled in the corner and spread across the floor were bodies. They all had the same face. The same wide eyes and horrified expression. Bodies that had been torn into and ravaged, severed heads and bisected torso's entangled together. Something seized in the pit of my gut, and I felt myself shuffling back against the tub. But I didn't barf. I didn't feel my stomach contract. That gnawing itching in my throat only grew worse. I was numb. Empty. Wrong. Thirsty. "Sam," a male monotone voice came over the speaker. "Sam, can you hear me?" I moved my head slightly, and the intercom crackled again. "Yes, Sam. I am talking to you. Please make your way to the diary room. We are waiting for you, Sam." When I didn't move, the voice didn't let up. "Do it now, Sam." I had zero idea of what any of those words meant. Climbing out of the tub, I dropped onto my knees, my palms grazing wet warmth coagulating across patterned tiles. More blood. This time slicking my hands and soaking my jeans. I don't know why I licked my hands tentatively, hesitantly. It was a knee jerk reaction. But it tasted good. Thick and coppery. Standing in front of a mirror stretched out across the wall, I had to blink several times to figure out what was wrong. I had no reflection. No face to match my voice. No identity to put back together. Fuck. Was that the only word I knew how to say? I squinted in the mirror, trying to find myself. What I did see was foggy, an outline, a shadow with no discernable face. There was… something. I blinked and got a flash of thick dark hair. A hooded sweatshirt. Leaning closer, I got a glimpse of half lidded eyes. Dried blood smeared across my lips and chin. I opened my mouth, sticking my index finger across my top molars. Before I could see anything, my reflection, or what was left of it, bled into condensation clinging to the glass. When my head twisted toward the door, my body was already ahead of my brain. I tensed up, my fingers gripping the edge of the faucet, my nose flaring. The stink of blood was suddenly overwhelming, suffocating my senses. There was someone outside, the thought hit me like a warning, a danger. And that person was… a threat. Still though, that didn't stop me from pulling the door open. It was the light that caught me off guard. Brighter and more intense than the bathroom, it was too overpowering, searing the back of my neck and back. The hallway reminded me of a fun house. What had been yellow carpet stained with grisly entrails. The threat was a guy knelt a few feet away. I came to an abrupt stop, a thick paste creeping up my throat. At first, I thought he was crying. Maybe laughing. But the smell was too powerful, and just like me, this guy was being controlled by his own senses, taking advantage of the body in front of him. He was drinking, guzzling down pooling red stemming around a limp hand. I took a step forward. Somehow, I wasn't scared. Part of me wanted to join him, quenching that incessant itching in my throat. He paused, lifting his head slightly. "I found her first," his voice was a low growl. "Get your own breakfast, dude." I think that was when I found my voice. "What the fuck," was all I said. "What the fuck is happening?" The guy turned slowly, flashing me a grin. It was his teeth that stood out, sharpened incisors bared in a predatory growl. He looked younger than I felt. Maybe by a year of two. Hiding behind reddish brown hair hanging in hollowed out eyes, the guy slowly tipped his head to the side, like he was sussing me out. There was something out of place, what I thought was glitter at first. No, they were icicles. Once I was seeing them, I couldn't stop seeing them. They clung to his lashes, hanging from his lip. Crystals of ice. This kid hadn't bathed in… I wasn't sure he *had* ever bathed. Greasy hair sticking in clumps to his forehead hanging in damp curls, his entire face stained new and old scarlet. There were traces of humanity. Even faint. I caught a watch on his wrist, what looked like a hearing aid attached to his right ear. I saw the hesitance in the way he moved, his jaw clenching, fingers gripping onto the corpse for dear life, sinking into flesh I knew was still warm. There had been a heartbeat, maybe an hour ago. Two, if he savoured her before ripping out her throat. When it became clear that I wasn't stepping into his territory, his shoulders slumped. "I forgot about you. I mean, I wasn't going to tie you up again, man. You were *feral*. Which doesn't make sense because I'm pretty sure you're still breathing." He curled his lip. "Huh. Whatever." The kid rolled his eyes, before turning back to his…meal. My mouth watered again when he latched his teeth onto the scraps. He wasn't eating. He was drinking, eyes rolling back, moaning into flesh he was clinging onto like a wild animal. "They're getting sued for this," he mumbled. I could hear it washing down his throat. Smell it wet on his fingers. Almost taste it. The kid continued talking, like he wasn't licking rivulets of red seeping down his face and chin. "I'm talking *sued*, sued. Like, we are going to make millions if they let us out… which is unlikely, but–" His voice collapsed into a childlike giggle, talking to himself through thirsty gulps, relishing every drop. I didn't realize I was backing away, until my body physically dragged me forwards, my throat, mouth, everything was burning. The kid was still talking to me, but I was already looking for a way out. "Hey, I wouldn't go in there," he said. "Those are the newbies, and trust me, you don't want to be near a newbie." "Why?" I whispered. The kid honked out a laugh. "Cos' they'll rip your fuckin' throat out! Especially when you're not…cooked." Ignoring him, I continued down the hallway. I could hear thumping, animalistic snarls. Every door was locked. "See?" the guy called down the hall. "Just leave 'em'. It takes a while to get used to, y'know?" With his voice ringing in my head, I pressed my face against one of the doors. This one was open. There was no snarling. But there *was* muffled screaming, and traces of life. Heartbeats. Not whatever the fuck I was. "Hey, what did I just say?" the guy's tone darkened when my fingers grasped the handle. I sensed his head snapping up, toes curling in the carpet. He was behind me in a matter of seconds. He was too close. A shiver skittered down my spine and ignited my blood, a dull pain gnawing in my mouth. I could sense his breaths, every movement he was going to make. "That's not a good idea. We're not allowed to go in there. It's the rules." *Rules.* My mouth was on fire. I couldn't think straight. I had no fucking reflection. The only way I could stop myself from sucking the blood off of my hand, was figuring out where the fuck I was– and this guy – this animal with a human boy's face – wanted me to follow rules? I pushed the door open, stepping inside. "Your funeral," the kid muttered in a sing-song voice. But he did follow me into the room. A large bedroom filled with king-size beds. Where the fuck was I? There were no windows. No sunlight or traces of a sky either lit up or drowned in darkness. There was just artificial light I felt the need to hide away from. Like I was staring directly into the sun. Sitting on one of the beds, cross legged on scarlet sheets, was a girl and a boy. Tied back to back. The girl's eyes were wide, frantic, shuffling in her restraints. While the guy sat perfectly still, his eyes rolling back and forth, head jolting, like he couldn't keep himself awake. There were at least four layers of duct tape over their mouths. I took a single step forward. The girl stiffened, and the guy tipped his head back to get a closer look. I saw a flash of silver, what looked like ice, creeping across his forehead and dying a single streak of hair white. The girl's body jerked, a white strip spreading across the duct tape. Her breath, I realized. Another step, and their eyes tracked my movement, the two of them shuffling uncomfortably. "Woah there," the kid held me back when I started forwards with the intention to untie them. "We're breaking the rules just by being in here, and you want to play let's-be-fucking- best friends with the fresh newbies?" "Newbie?" The guy sighed. "Yes. *Newbie*. I was the first one awake, so naturally, I'm in charge of all of you. " he strode over to the two of them, climbed into the bed, and shuffled over to the girl. She didn't react, her eyes still glued to me. The kid ripped off the layers of duct tape over her mouth, and she didn't even flinch. Before I could speak, he leaned closer. "Yep. Just as I thought. She's not done." he slapped the tape back over her mouth, and the girl made a whimpering sound. Moving onto the guy, the kid was more hesitant, instead prodding at the boy's neck. He wafted his finger like he was contagious, and I caught a singular ice crystal on his index. "He's almost done. I'll give him a few more hours." When the boy snarled at him, lunging forward, I noticed twin pricks in the duct-tape gag. He'd bitten through it. "Not good," he turned to me. "Did I leave any duct tape in the bathroom?" It took me a moment to reply, especially with the way his eyes were frenzied, flicking back and forth between the two on the bed. His expression significantly darkened, jaw tightening. "What is it?" He didn't look at me. "I don't think I'm allowed to tell you." "This is Big Brother," the voice sliced into me, a shiver creeping down my spine. The two on the bed didn't react to the voice. They were still staring at me. "Now you've done it," The guy muttered. "Sam, please make your way to the diary room. If you continue to break the rules, we will be taking necessary measures to ensure everyone's safety." "Big Brother," I spoke slowly, my brain struggling to register. "Like… The reality show." "Duh," the kid said, "The memory loss thing is getting old, though," he nudged me, and it felt familiar. "Judging by your state though, I'm not surprised. You're half raw and burnt on one side." Before I could reply, he turned me around and shoved me back through the door. "Go talk to 'em. I'll entertain the newbies. Just don't piss them off, all right?" I stumbled, and he caught me, easily guiding me down the hallway. I wasn't expecting him to get close, his nonexistent breath in my ear. He stunk of rot. So cold. His presence sent goosebumps prickling across my arms. "Look to the right if you can hear me," he said, maintaining his composure. "There are cameras fucking everywhere, and if I start looking around, they'll know something is up." I panicked, navigating my gaze toward the wall. "That's the left, *idiot*." Switching my eye movement, he let out a relieved breath. "They're hiding something from us," he hummed. "Things like *this* don't just happen, and they just tell us not to panic, like I didn't wake up fucking dead in the swimming pool with no memory and some fucked up teeth." Maybe I was imagining his breath grazing the back of my neck. "Find what they're hiding." We stopped in front of a sliding door. The kid was gone before I could turn around. I had no choice, slipping inside a dark room filmed with cameras, a plush chair in the middle. When I collapsed into it, that same voice slipped inside my head. "Hello, Sam." I didn't reply until I was forcibly coerced to speak. I got four rounds of, "Hello, Sam." Before I gave up and spat out a greeting. "How are you feeling, Sam?" "Like shit." "Big Brother has asked you to come to the diary room so we can reveal important information regarding the outside world and the current state of the house and its seven house guests." I nodded slowly. Dizzily. "Does it have something to do with me not having a reflection?" "Yes, Sam." I took a deep breath. "I didn't apply to be on this. There's been a mistake." A pause. "Sam, you applied for Big Brother US on October 23rd, 2011, via the website. You were shortlisted on February 4th 2012, and officially entered the house on July 16th, 2012." I shook my head. No, my girlfriend was obsessed with Big Brother. She would apply, not me. The dates didn't match either. *Girlfriend.* The realization sent shivers down my spine. I had a girlfriend. Just like my roommate, she was nothing to me. Just a shadow, a splinter in my mind. "Sam, this information may be distressing," the voice made me jump. "Do you want us to continue?" I nodded. "On September 6th 2012, two weeks ago, the first reported case of Cold fever was reported. Also known as the Vryko virus, taken from the Greek word Vrykolakas, the virus first emerged in Reykjavik, in Iceland, and soon spread to neighbouring countries. It was declared a public health emergency by the CDC, followed by a pandemic, after cases were reported in key countries around the world." The voice paused for me to take this in– and I was. I was just struggling to figure out how this thing had spread globally after being found in Iceland of all places. "Sam, the Vryko virus does not work like influenza or SARS. The mode of transmission is bodily fluids. It is spread through the puncturing of the flesh from an infected individual's teeth. Infected people are reported to have undergone physical changes, such as developing a specific gland that is usually found in spiders and scorpions– as well as significantly sharper teeth." "You're talking about a bite." I said, when a screen flashed on. I was seeing empty cities, news screens all screaming about the so-called cold fever. They ignored me. "Symptoms include: Dizziness and memory loss, nausea and vomiting, heightened senses and the collapse of the physical self (such as your appearance in the mirror and photos), aggression, and in later symptoms, a rapidly falling temperature that freezes your blood. If you're lucky, you will reject the virus and your body will go into shock, before freezing over. If Vyroklasas successfully takes over the infected host, the body is shut down so it can survive the body temperature, while said person will experience extreme symptoms of thirst and aggression. As symptoms persist, the infected become harder to reason with, and will grow increasingly more animal-like." they paused. "Sam, you may have noticed these specific–" "I'm a vampire." I said, cutting her off. "Vampire is the common word for the infected," the voice said. "Due to the similarity in symptoms related to the undead mythical creature, infected individuals are known as… vampires." I felt like I was going to throw up. "Several days ago, we made the decision to keep you quarantined inside the house. However, we were not aware the virus was already inside here. And it has spread amongst house guests. Sam, you are infected. However, your symptoms are progressing much slower. House guests are currently being kept under observation. If you fail to show significant symptoms in the next three days, you will be taken from quarantine. If you do, you will die with the six other houseguests infected." I leaned forward. "Die?" I managed to get out. "What about my family?" I didn't understand. Why wasn't I crying? Why did I feel nothing? "Big Brother does not have any current information on your family's condition. I am sorry, Sam. We're stuck here too. This series was never televised originally, before the cold fever, due to circumstances we cannot talk about." "Then why are you still doing that voice?" They paused. "It makes me feel normal." I heard just the slightest splinter of humanity in that monotone drawl. "Sam, if you choose to tell your fellow houseguests the truth about the outside world, we will have no choice but to kill you too. We do not need you alive to extract brain tissue." I didn't realize I'd knocked the chair over until I was on my knees, breathing deeply into my lap. My mouth was aching, my teeth throbbing. It felt like something was trying to protrude from my gums. "If it makes you feel better, the other houseguests have a little over a day before their symptoms persist. You can leave now, Sam. Please stay away from the main bedroom." I did, picking up the stair and then kicking it over again. When I left the room, I found myself face to face with the kid. I should stop calling him a kid. He was 19 or 20. I was 21. I caught ice glistening on his upper lip. He smiled a fanged grin, and twisted around, leading me back to the bedroom– or at least the door. "I think they're sleeping," he leaned against the wall, fixing me with a look. "Well?" I could only send him a questioning look, before he sighed. "Relax. There's no cameras down here." his lip quirked. "Let me guess," he kept his voice down, loudly coughing. "We're currently in a global pandemic that destroyed the world, a so-called *cold fever* turning people into vampires— you're the only one who's immune, and you can't tell us. Oh, and that they're one-shotting all of us." His words slammed into me, waves of ice cold water coming over me. "How do you know that?" He shrugged. "Because they told me that too." he frowned down at his blood spattered sweatshirt. "Three days ago, when I was still relatively normal, those assholes told me I was immune. That my body was too warm, something about my bone marrow being valuable, blah, blah, blah." he smirked, settling me with an uneasy grin, stained fangs and all. Behind us, an animalistic shriek jolted my body. I had to bite down on my lip to suppress the overwhelming urge to seek out the threat. *This thing was taking over fast.* I swallowed what felt like ice crystals slowly forming in the back of my throat. The kid's eyes were dark, and I was reminded of the final stage of the cold fever. "And look at me now." … So, to add, YES I got out of this… situation. But holy shit was 2013 a rough year. It took me four straight months of therapy to understand we were NOT in a global vampire pandemic.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17e7c0u/in_2012_i_was_a_contestant_on_a_huge_reality_tv/

nosleep

Trash_Tia

Theres something wrong whit my son.

I don't know how to think or how to perceive anything anymore. Nothing is as it should be. There's something wrong with my child. (knocking) Dad, what are you doing? I'm coming. My son and I have always been close. My wife and his mother passed away when he was young. I never made an effort to pursue a new relationship because I believed this was better. My son is now 8 years old and plays as if there's no tomorrow. He used to run out to the backyard towards the forest. It was his favorite place to be. When I look out, I see him standing at the edge of the forest, whispering something. Tommy, it's time for dinner. My son is still standing there. Tommy, it's time for dinner. Come now. Then he turns around and runs toward me. He runs past me straight into the house, kicks off his shoes, and sits at the dinner table. So, what did you do today? Nothing special. Who were you talking to? No one. Are you sure? Yes, I am. If you say so. He gets his sandwiches, which he always eats before bedtime. I then take him to his bedroom after he's prepared himself. When I tuck him in, he looks at me. Goodnight, my treasure. Goodnight, Dad. Is there something you're thinking about? Mmm, maybe. What would it be? Dad, where is Mom? Mom... she's in heaven. How do you know that? Because she was a good person who has gone to a better place. Okay. Is that all? Yes. I then leave and leave the door half-open as he prefers. I walk to the living room where I see a picture of all of us. My dear wife. Why did Cancer take you? I feel the sorrow that washes over me but continue with my tasks before the next day. I go to bed. The next day, I prepare breakfast for the boy. Tommy, it's breakfast. He rushes in, gobbles up his breakfast, and runs out. He seems to be in a hurry. When it's time for lunch, I look outside but can't see him. So, I grab my phone and call him. It rings but there's no answer. I turn on the GPS to see where he is. He's in the forest. I head toward where the phone should be. As I approach, I see him staring at a tree. Tommy, what are you doing? Tommy turns to me, and something feels off. He looks at me from bottom to top. He smiles at me, then walks past me. Tommy, I'm talking to you. Yes, I hear you. The voice is not the same. It's as if it's a different voice. Tommy looks at me with wide eyes. Yes, Dad, I hear you. It's more like it, but still not quite. Tommy turns around and walks toward our home. I follow and now bring Tommy inside, who clumps in with his shoes on. Tommy, you don't wear shoes inside. Tommy looks at me bewildered. I point to his shoes. He looks down at them and then back up at me. Take off your shoes. Why? Because you don't wear shoes indoors. Why not? Tommy, I don't want to have this discussion with you right now. Okay. Tommy sits down on the floor and tries to take off his shoes, but it seems like he doesn't know how. Eventually, he rips them off. He stands up and looks around. I warm up his food, and when it's hot, I go to Tommy, who's standing in front of the mirror, tugging at his skin. It's as if he's inspecting himself. He makes faces and then looks at me, turning around. It's time for lunch. Okay. He goes in and sits down after a while. He looks at the food, which is macaroni and meatballs with ketchup, his favorite meal. But he just stares at it and pokes at it with his fingers. He looks amused as he likely feels the heat coming from the food and the stickiness of the ketchup. Aren't you hungry? Hungry. Then you should eat. Eat… Yes, or the food will get cold. Cold. Yes, cold. He looks at me with a gaze that terrifies me. It's like there's something there, but not quite. He gets up and walks away from the table without eating or taking off his shoes. I follow and see him walk up towards the forest, looking around until he sits on the ground, almost like a cat, and makes a lunge that shocks me. He has caught a bird and bites its head off, letting the blood drip down from his mouth. I'm about to vomit. Then he sits down and looks at me. What's wrong, Dad? You shouldn't... I shouldn't what? We should go to... We're not going anywhere, Dad. (a demonic voice.) I lose my footing and fall backward. Suddenly, he stands over me with a strange smile on his face. His skin is torn apart, and this thin, tall creature with black skin and long fingers resembling claws is in front of me. It's more like a skeletal figure with a stench that almost makes me vomit. Its gray eyes look lifeless, while one of its claws presses against my forehead. I hear my son screaming from the tree without his skin as this creature feeds on him. You will obey, or your son will never return. I know that no matter what I do, my son is already dead. But the choice is to try to resist. It's difficult when I'm like a puppet without any will. So, Dad, it's time to go to the tree because you need to see your son and become a new person.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17ektl0/theres_something_wrong_whit_my_son/

nosleep

Myrg-gamemaster

Maybe Mary is up to something

September 24, 2023 (names have been changed) Coming into work for six days in a row is going to be the death of me. Not that this job is difficult in any way, not at all. Just growing more and more… mundane. As anyone else who has worked in retail could tell you, besides the endless amount of rude customers that come in and make it their life mission to ruin your day. You also have to deal with hearing the same songs. Every. Single. Day. I even hear the same song twice. If I have to hear “this kiss, this kiss” song once more today, I will probably throw my apron away, and leave this place. A typical work day for me begins around 4:30 am. Of course I do the usual stuff; brush my teeth, wash my face, rub aloe vera on my face, and eat a spoonful of my local honey for my allergies. I prep my clothes for the next day and have them ready in my backpack. I put my work out clothes on and get on my bike. Then I begin my mile long journey when I have just enough time to chug down a protein shake while I change into my uniform in time to clock in for my 5 am shift. Once I put on my hairnet and face mask, I go to the production list and compare it to the wall. I work in the deli department. That means I am responsible for rotisserie chicken, meals, sides, snack packs, salads, cup salads, grab and go sandwiches, customer ordered sandwiches, sliced meats and cheeses, making tuna, seafood, chicken salad. I am sure I’m missing something, but you get the idea. We are supposed to have four workers in the morning and for the afternoon, and three for closing. However, people don’t last here. Just the other day we had two new hires who didn’t even make it to their second day of training. I say all of this to vent about how we only have one or two workers until night shift. Then it is only one person who closes. Needless to point out, production is never fully done for the day. But the $3 above minimum wage makes it worth my while. Do I know I’m getting over paid? Indeed I do. Do I give a shit? No. I’ve been with this company for longer than I care to share. For the longest time, we have been wild, untamed. No manager for quite some time to tell us how ugly our wraps look. I didn’t know that you’re supposed to cut it diagonally. Thank god for Mary and her skills to help us out. Since she came into our deli lives, we now have direction, stability, and motivation. I would guess with her experience of being the manager of ten years, it would come as no surprise. She has told us she isn’t from this country. In fact, she’s only been in the USA for 13 years. Mary has been with us for four months now, and I’ve been noticing some… peculiar and abnormal things. The meat, sushi, deli, and bakery all work together and have all developed relationships with each other. We share the walk-in, and walk past each other on a constant basis. Claire is the bakery’s assistant manager. She is probably my third favorite person in the whole store. Besides her hilarious, spicy attitude, she’s actually very well trained in the management world. She also knows everything about everyone, in a good way. I would like to believe that most everyone has a soft spot for Claire. The other day I was gathering all the produce and dressings I needed from the walk in to make all 60 salads for the day. It’s not a large fridge, but it’s bigger than what I’m used to seeing at my other job, and big enough to where a fellow coworker could startle you because you can’t see them behind any of the multitude moveable racks. Typically, even though we all have signed the store's policy to not “graze”, I’ll do a quick search before I sneak a few grapes. However, on this day, I was too focused on finishing my stupidly long production list. They keep telling us that audit is going to show up any day now, since another store nearby gave the manager a heads up. So I have a lot on my mind to be flirting with no grapes. “Gabrielle” I heard someone whisper my name. It had to be Claire, she loved to sneak eat the strawberries. Giggling, I said, “What do you want!” As I continued my gathering, I heard nothing. I began investigating in confusion, but there was nothing there. Perhaps I was hearing things as I thought to myself and went on with my work without giving it a second thought. Until it happened again. My usual day starts before the sun wakes up. Most of the people in my department don’t come in until the store is actually open. For the most part, it’s just myself and Suzy. She’s a zesty, older lady who clocks in two hours before I come in. She often “forgets” her hearing aids. I, too, would forget my hearing aids if it meant drowning out the customers' annoyances. In order to have a conversion with her Suzy, the volume is almost at a shouting level. So we limit our conversations unless we need to speak to one another. Most of the time I’m trying my best to tune out these repetitive, shitty songs that are on this everlasting loop while searching for my produce; again. “Gabrielle, Gabbi.” I stood straight up, no one has called me Gabbi since I was in middle school. Gabbi the fatty is what they would call me. Not only did this disembodied voice scare the shit out of me, but it brought back some ptsd flashbacks that brought its own horror feeling. I honestly couldn’t tell you if it’s a male or female voice. I tried my best to laugh it off and act as if it didn’t bother me, but it did. It does. I talked myself down after hitting my inhaler. “It’s nothing, right? I mean, it’s not like a ghost haunting a grocery store.” I told myself as I was able to take a deep breath. Mary has been extra… pushy as of late. She expects me to do a full page worth of production and gets emotional if I’m not able to complete her high expectations. I know if I didn’t have customers every two minutes needing me for sandwiches or slicing something for them,I could possibly do it. I overheard her the other day ask Ash if she wanted to be the deli lead. Ash can’t stand the woman or the responsibility, so she told her no. Since then, Mary has been aggressively slamming products on the table, and giving us the cold shoulder. Now I’m not saying there is a connection, but it seems strange that when Mary is mad, there seems to be friction between all us deli people. For instance, a senior deli went off on a new hire over dishes. The senior deli lady has never displayed this type of behavior. I can’t speak for the new hire. All I know is when I looked over at Mary, she had this disturbing smile with her head tilted downward, and her eyes looking up as the store manager had to pry off the two deli clerks. It was disturbing to watch her in that hypnotic state while mixing the tuna she just made. I’m going to keep my eye on this one and tell you guys if anything new happens.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17f06k5/maybe_mary_is_up_to_something/

nosleep

simpforZiah

That Is Not My Dog

I don't know what came back to my home but I do know one thing: That is not my dog. So my father went on vacation and left me his dog, a beautiful Weimaraner named Bella. In case you don't know, Weimaraner are hunting hounds. They only really bond with one human and the rest are, at best, pack. The human Bella bonded with was my dad. Obviously, he's the one she spent most of her life with. But still, she listens to me. When I call, she comes. When I tell her to stay, she stays. Of course, a dog needs walking and that's fine. My dad's retired and so he always walks her at the same time. And she's used to that. She has trouble doing her business if it's not 'her' time. So I try to accommodate that. My job has pretty comfortable times so having her around just means I need to get up a few minutes earlier. There's a little strip of forest behind my home so I can just open the terrace door, open the fence door and let her run. All fine, all good, until last Friday. I had to get up at an ungodly early hour that day. Even worse, when I woke up it was raining like crazy. The middle of the night and rain coming down in torrents. I was absolutely stoked to have to walk the dog. So I just put on some clothes and go outside with her, leaving the light on the terrace on but pulling the door shut so she doesn't run in with her paws all wet before I've had time to dry her off. I walk through the pouring rain and to the garden fence. It's a tall fence, seven feet and sturdy enough that you can't see through it. I unlock the door, shove it open, and Bella is off like a shot, the way she always is. The moment I step past the fence I realize how fucking stupid of an idea this was. I can't see shit. It's dark, so dark I can barely see. The little porch light doesn't reach past the fence. Two steps out and I immediately trip over a root that I've apparently always avoided in better lighting. I want to go back but Bella's still out there, hopefully doing her business. So I walk out, stumbling around in the dark. My optometrist tells me that I'm very good at seeing in the dark but between the forest, the early hour and the rain I can barely see six feet in front of me. A coworker introduced me to the Magnus Archives recently and the stories that always got me were the ones where people get stuck in these bizarre endless dreamscapes. I feel like I'm in one of these, an infinite plane of cold, dark wetness. I'm getting scared. I call out to Bella. My voice barely reaches my own ears through the pouring rain. Bella always comes when called but clearly she doesn't hear me. I can't even tell if she's coming closer because the rain is louder than the rustling of her paws on the forest floor could ever be. Oh god, what if I can't find her? What if I'm late to work because of this? Should have just let her poop in the backyard. I call out to Bella some more to no avail. This is useless. I decide to go back home, grab a flashlight, and search for her properly. Stumbling and slipping I feel more than find my way back to the fence and into the backyard and see the unmistakable shape of a Weimaraner backlit by the porch light. Smart dog ran back to the terrace when she couldn't find me and is waiting for me in front of the terrace door. Relief floods me. If you've ever been worried sick about something and then you probably know the kind of relief I'm talking about. It's the kind that's like a warm shower over your back. I'm so relieved, in fact, that I don't question the red specks on Bella's snout. It's Sunday now and I'm certain that whatever showed up on my porch, it wasn't Bella. I only write this down now because I wasn't sure at first but now I am. That... thing... looks like my dog but it isn't. The first thing I noticed was off was the eating habits. Bella is not a picky eater and her sweet tooth is almost as big as mine. So long as it's sweet she wants a bite of it. But this... thing... doesn't. It only cares about meat. Dried meat won't do, either. The fresher the better. It refused Bella's kibble. It refused the jerky I keep around for Bella. At first I thought Bella was just being a bit prissy but then I accidentally cut myself while chopping some veggies for dinner and the picky eater was suddenly right there, licking up the red. I was mostly just happy that she wanted something so I didn't question it until I felt her teeth scraping at the wound to make me bleed more. I yanked my hand away in shock. Normally when she nips me she gets this really apologetic look but this thing just stared at me as if offended that I was taking its delicacy away. The eyes were the next thing that tipped me off. Bella has these beautiful, soulful gray-green eyes but this... thing... has eyes that are the most putrid shade of yellow. It's teeth are whiter and sharper than Bella's, too. But the looks this thing gives me... I firmly believe that dogs are incapable of being evil or mean. Even pitbulls, bred killing machines that they are, think they're being good boys when they maul and kill. But when this thing stares at me it feels actively malevolent. I spent Saturday wondering why it didn't attack me in my sleep. I leave my bedroom door open for Bella so she doesn't wake me up at night by throwing herself against it. And she takes frequent advantage of that, coming into my room to lick my hand to get me to wake up and walk her. It's super cute. But this thing doesn't do that. It just stands right at the threshold, staring at me. Eventually I got an inkling of why that might be the case: I keep a crucifix over my bedroom door. In fact, after trying it out I learned that whatever room I hang the crucifix up in, the thing pretending to be Bella refuses to enter it. The worst part is that I have no idea what this thing is. Is there such a thing as a skinwalker for dogs? Or is Bella still out there while I'm taking care of this creepy changeling? I haven't walked this thing. I just open the terrace door and watch it. I often have birds coming into my garden, sparrows and blackbirds mostly. Bella has long since given up trying to catch them. She's just not fast enough. This thing is, though. It's already caught and mauled three blackbirds to death, two of them a couple. First it killed the female, then it waited in ambush until the male came to grieve. The picky eater that didn't want its kibble devoured the birds without blinking. But the worst part is that I have no idea what I'm supposed to do about this. My dad's vacation ends on Wednesday. I can't very well hand that monster over to him. But I can't exactly get rid of it. Can I?

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dz6gq/that_is_not_my_dog/

nosleep

ApatheticCapybara

The night I found the Maestro of Charmouth Wood

[PART 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17ckem2/the_maestro_of_charmouth_wood/) “Just a minute,” Jacob gasped, pulling me behind the cover of a massive oak. “Just… Gotta… Catch… My… Breath….” He bent over, hands clutching his knees while his chest rose up and down like a bellows. I knew the feeling. My lungs felt like they’d caught fire. “Check the… map,” he said. “We should… figure out a way… back before–” THUD Jacob fell backward. His head struck the dirt with a dull thud, and he cursed, pointing his flashlight toward his bottom half. There was something around his ankles. A tendril. “Gotta be fucking kidding me!” he spat, tossing me his flashlight. “Hold this, will you? I’m gonna cut this fucker off.” He produced his pocket knife, snapped it open and got to work. “I don't get it,” he grunted, carving the knife into the wood. “Why us? The hell did we do to deserve this?" “I don’t know,” I said, panicked as I fought to loosen the tendril’s grip on his legs. Then, a thought hit me. The music. The legend. I swallowed, my mind piecing together a puzzle I was too arrogant to see. “The Maestro…” I muttered. “He took revenge on everybody who insulted his music, right? Well, you and Eli called it awful earlier.” I looked at Jacob’s face, my eyes widening in realization. “Apologize! If you apologize he might let us go.” “Are you hearing yourself?” Jacob said in disbelief. “If this is the Maestro, then I’ll kill the asshole myself. He murdered, Eli, Tommy! He fucking–” Jacob was gone. His body slipped backward, snapping across the ground with a dozen quick thumps before the tendril stole him into the darkness of the forest. I listened as he skipped across the forest floor. I listened to each wheeze of air pushed from his lungs, to each snap of branch and bone, and then I listened to the final sharp crack of his spine splitting across the trunk of a distant tree. Jacob was dead. I reached down, tears streaming from my eyes and I picked up Ryan’s head. I gazed into it. Into those flickering, candle-light eyes. He was all I had left now, but when I looked at him I felt nothing but hatred. He brought us here. He made us do this stupid ritual, and now Eli and Jacob were dead, and I was next. “Is this what you wanted?” I screamed, shaking his head. “To fucking kill us? To make us suffer the way you had to?” No. Of course it wasn’t. If this nightmare belonged to anybody– if it was anyone’s responsibility, it was mine. I’d treated this as a joke. A morbid waste of time. I’d been so convinced that Ryan had lost it, that his obsession with the paranormal was nothing more than untreated mental illness, that I’d forgotten part of his notes. I’d forgotten the whole purpose of Ryan being here tonight. He was much more than a jack o'lantern to light our way. He was our admission fee. Charmouth Wood swayed with the creak of parting branches. It sighed with the whisper of falling leaves. Something was coming, something was coming for me and it walked on old limbs, shifting with the antique slowness of ancient horror. The Maestro. “I’m sorry,” I whimpered. I lifted Ryan’s head, held it high above me and with as loud a voice as I could muster, called out, “Maestro! A token to hear you play!” A heartbeat of silence. And another. The silence stretched into eternity, it was enough to encompass the entire passage of time itself, the birth of the universe and the death of the cosmos, and through it all my knees shook. Piss dribbled down my leg. My teeth chattered like a 1950’s pick-up truck and I knew, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was it. I was going to die. Two lights appeared above me. They began as narrow slits before growing into bright orbs, round and full. They hovered near the treetops, as if observing me. Studying me. A long groan met my ears. Another shift of limbs, ancient and horrible, and I knew then that it was him. The Maestro of Charmouth Wood. It gazed at me with his full moon eyes, and just beyond them I could make out a gnarled head wearing a crooked crown of thorns. He reached toward me, a hand that was long and twisting. His fingers were like narrow sticks. I thought he might grab me for a moment, that he might break me in his grip but instead he plucked Ryan’s head and brought it toward those bright eyes. He grumbled. Then, with a haunting howl he opened his dark maw, and dropped Ryan’s head into it. A wet pop. A sickly crunched. The Maestro chewed, working Ryan’s skull into mulch as blood and brain matter seeped from the monster’s wooden teeth. My stomach squirmed. Vomit boiled in my gut but I didn’t dare let it loose– insulting this creature held a promise of death. The monster finished its meal. It shifted again, rising and leaves rustled in the dark. From the forest came a slither of wood, a tendril that held something in its gnarled grip. No– somebody. I brought a hand to my mouth, stifled a horrified whimper as I looked at Eli’s corpse. The Maestro raised a sharp finger, it jabbed it through Eli’s chest. It calmly broke open his ribs. Then, it fished around inside of him, his guts spilling onto the dirt like human confetti. Lungs. Intestines. I screwed my eyes shut. Ryan’s notes echoed in my mind, and I knew that there was only one thing the monster could be doing– exactly what he’d done a century ago. He was gathering materials. I listened as Eli’s organs slapped against the forest floor. I listened as his bones broke, as the Maestro bent them, twisted them. I listened as the creature harvested my friend, tearing out pieces of Eli for his newest project. An instrument made for my ears alone. Then, when it was finished the Maestro spoke. W E L C O M E His voice echoed like a maelstrom, haunting, ethereal and endless. It shook the forest. Birds squawked, scattering from their nests in a flurry of black wingbeats. My bones rattled beneath my skin. “Thank you,” I sputtered weakly. “I’m honored to be h-here tonight.” It grunted, kneeling before me upon legs the size of lamp posts as it presented its newest creation. A violin. According to the legends, it was called Pale for its marrow sheen, but this instrument was anything but. It gleamed red in the glow of the Maestro’s eyes. All across it were scraps of Eli– skin, bone, and hair. I gagged, recognizing his ribcage as the body of the instrument, and his tendons, still dripping blood, were pulled tight to use as strings. W E... B E G I N said the Maestro. He lifted the bow– something made out of Eli’s femur, and brought it to the face of the violin. Then, his symphony commenced. The first note stole my breath. It drowned my mind, crashing over me in a tsunami of delirium that brought me to my knees. I gasped. Madness. All I could hear was madness. It spilled through my ears, filling up the inside of my skull before forcing itself through my veins like molten fear. Worst of all, I wasn’t alone. The forest had transformed. Gone was the Halloween silence, now it’d been replaced by a cacophony of shrieks and agonized animal bleating. Birds spun from overhead, ricocheting through the air in twos and threes as they snapped and pecked at one another. Deer cut across my vision. They tore over the dirt, brandishing their antlers and hooves as squirrels and insects crawled up their legs, tearing into their flesh. The Maestro’s tune infected even the trees. They sagged, withering as their leaves fell in blackened heaps, their branches snapping as the funeral dirge smothered them in its decaying melody. I wanted to join them. All of them. Carnage. Violence. It was everything I wanted, all that I needed– I had a deep desire, a near-religious obligation to add my blood and misery to the tapestry of pain spread out before me. My fingers twitched. Ached. My tongue slithered across my lips as I imagined the shuddering ecstasy of bashing my skull against a tree. Yes, a voice said, deep inside. That would be a lovely offering, wouldn’t it? That tree, it told me. It’ll do just fine. Go ahead, mark with all of your inner beauty. Go on. I stumbled to my feet, and as I did another voice entered my mind. This voice gentle. Familiar. Die now, and you’ll have really screwed the pooch. Eli? Jacob? They’ll be dead for nothing. Trapped. They’ll be lost in suffering for eternity, Tommy– remember my notes, okay? My will. I fell forward. My mind screamed, my fingernails digging into the dirt. I knew that voice. It belonged to Ryan. Ryan. Ryan. My mind spun, rioting in a typhoon of grief. Ryan. Ryan. He was the reason I’d come here tonight– him. But why? What was it that he told me? I ground my teeth, fists smashing the dirt as I tried to focus past the unholy anguish of the Maestro’s music. This was about more than simply paying our respect. It was about more than saying goodbye to an old friend, wasn’t it? Damn it! I screamed, howling into the night in a desperate attempt to block out the monster’s tune. Darkness. Ryan had mentioned a darkness, something that permeated Charmouth, that had birthed our little town two centuries ago. It owned us, Ryan once told me. That darkness owned every soul born in Charmouth– Eli’s, Jacob’s, and my own included. But there’s a way to save us from that darkness, Ryan’s voice echoed in my mind. It’s standing before you right now, Tommy. Don’t give up. You’re so close. The Maestro’s wish. I clenched my fists until my bones ached, until the skin of my knuckles split and blood trickled down my hands. I screamed. Longer, harder than before. I screamed with everything I had, roaring in guttural desperation. If I was going to make it through this, then I had to drown the Maestro out. So I did. I let loose everything I had, channeling all the pain, all the grief and all the self-loathing into a never-ending howl of defiance. The rest became a blur. A red, bloody blur of death and temptation, but I never gave in. I couldn’t. People were counting on me– the living and the dead. By the time the Maestro stopped playing, my throat was a shredded mess. It hurt to speak. Hurt to breathe. But I’d made it. I’d survived the Maestro’s black symphony. I shifted, my muscles stiff and cramped. Pain shot through my shoulder. I figured I probably managed to dislocate it while writhing around in the dirt. With a groan, I look around me, taking in the aftermath for the first time. Death. It was everywhere. Animal carcassess littered the forest floor, whether trampled birds in the dirt or half-eaten elk buried beneath a blanket of insects. It was revolting. H M M M . . . My heart pounded. I turned my gaze to the monster, to the crooked beast that sat perched in shadow atop the hillside, its full-moon eyes gleaming like ghosts in the gloom. It resembled a bundle of sticks. Something older than hate itself, a decrepit titan fashioned from wicker and tragedy. O V A T I O N ? My arms ached, and my palms were caked in blood but I brought them together all the same. It seemed unwise to refuse the Maestro. I clapped. I clapped as hard as I could, wincing with every slap of my hands. The Maestro leaned forward, its scarecrow frame creaking as its snaggle-toothed mouth parted to rumble its next word. W I S H ? I swallowed, alight with anxiety. This was it. What I’d come to do. Memories lurched up from the dusty corners of my mind, memories of Ryan. He’d ask us to come here not for him, but for us– for everybody. He’d warned that there was evil in Charmouth. He’d said that our spirits never died, that our souls didn’t belong to us, but instead to something else. An elder god. A fiend who fed upon them, and who walked among us to this day. A Stranger. The very same that found the Maestro over a hundred years ago, on Halloween night. “I’m sorry…” I said, tears falling from my eyes. It occurred to me then, everything occurred to me– Ryan knew he was going to die. He must have. That’s why he wrote the will the way he had, why he’d entrusted it to me, why he’d ensured his head would end up in my possession. He’d begged me to complete this morbid ritual. He did all of that because he knew the elder god, The Stranger, was onto him. It’d caught wind of Ryan’s efforts to free Charmouth from its clutches. W I S H ? the Maestro roared. “A-Apologies,” I said quickly, doing my best to bury my fear. “M-My wish is to free the souls of Charmouth, past and present. I w-wish for you to release them from The Stranger’s hold.” The Maestro blinked. I M P O S S I B L E What? I shook my head, horror and confusion fighting inside me. “Sorry? W-What do you mean?” I’d done exactly as Ryan had asked, even phrasing the wish as he’d written it. B E Y O N D... M Y... P O W E R T H R E E... S O U L S N O... M O R E. My heart fell. After so much pain, so much sacrifice, three souls felt like a pittance. That still left thousands in the grip of The Stranger, their souls lost to his appetite. My nails gripped the dirt. I dragged them, snarling in defeat. I hated this. I hated this all the more because it made sense. The Maestro had been granted its power by The Stranger. Of course it couldn’t overrule him. Damn. “Alright,” I said hoarsely. “In that case, I wish for the souls of Eli Acosta, Jacob Young, and Ryan Colthart to be released from The Stranger’s hold. Please.” The Maestro’s eyes shone, glowing brighter and brighter still. They pulsed. The ground trembled, the wind whipping about in a rising scream as lightning poured from the sky like falling rain. Bolts struck in a flurry of ash and cinder. Trees snapped, falling in a circle around us. Then, in a vacuum of air, it all vanished– the lightning, the corpses. All of it. Gone. I T... I S... D O N E “Thank you,” I said, voice hollow. The Maestro turned from me. Its long limbs creaked as it stalked back toward the black forest, back into the abyss it’d risen from. I watched it go, numb with loss. My chest heaved. Tears leaked from my eyes. I fell backward onto a blanket of leaves, and I choked back my grief until I couldn’t choke it back any longer. Then, I cried. I cried my heart out until the sun bled over the horizon, and then I kept on crying because there was nothing else for it. Then, it turned from me, its long limbs creaking as it stalked back toward the trees. Back into the abyss it’d come from. I watched it go, feeling numb with loss. My chest heaved. I fell backward, onto a blanket of leaves, and I choked back tears until I couldn’t choke them back any longer. Then I cried. I cried until the sun bled over the horizon, until the night had been burned away by the day, and then I kept crying because there was nothing else for me to do. I’d failed. Not only Charmouth, but myself too. I was doomed. _____________________ The hike back was long. Haunting. I spent it lost in my thoughts, absorbed in grief and regret. Three souls. That was all the Maestro could offer me, and that meant so many were still on the hook– myself included. Sooner or later, I’d die. When that happened, I wouldn’t get to pass on like my friends because I was already spoken for. I’d stolen from an elder god. A stranger. A monster more terrifying than the Maestro could ever hope to be, a creature who subsisted on the souls of the damned. I’d taken three of those souls from it, robbing it of its fuel and food. I swallowed, a chill creeping through me. I wondered what horrors awaited me when I finally crossed The Stranger’s path. My imagination spun up scenes of torture. Of torment. It was too much to think about, so I did my best to bury my thought– to think of what Jacob, or Eli might say to make me feel better. “Who knows,” I muttered darkly. “Maybe he’ll give me a new guitar. Then the Maestro and I can start our own band– couldn’t be any worse than Nickelback.” I laughed. I laughed all the way back to the car because laughter was all I had left. There was no escaping my situation. My fate. For Eli and Jacob, the nightmare of the Maestro was over. For me, the nightmare of The Stranger had just begun. And I had a terrible feeling it wasn’t the sort of nightmare I’d ever wake up [from.](https://www.reddit.com/r/TalesFromTheCryptid/comments/jba8ww/story_master_list/)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17e50wa/the_night_i_found_the_maestro_of_charmouth_wood/

nosleep

Born-Beach

Desert War - Final

[Part 5](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16y3a5k/if_you_find_an_old_n64_game_called_desert_war_do/) As I was getting out of the car, my phone buzzed. It was from José, one of my employees. He had been looking after the shop while I was out “sick.” I hoped that it was nothing, that he just had a simple question, but I had a feeling that it would be bad news. I read his text: “Hey Dave, I managed to find the Desert Storm cartridge. It was in the supply closet behind a roll of toilet paper. Some gremlins must have put it there lol.” The timestamp was from an hour ago. I should’ve had service nearly the entire drive over to Modesto, but, for some reason, I was just now getting the text. I called him. No answer. Called the store. Again, no answer. I texted José back, warning him not to play the game, but I had a feeling it was too late. Frank had surely already gotten to him. I considered making the nearly two-hour drive back to the store. But I was almost certain that neither José nor the cartridge would be there. The only way of preventing further death was by going into the house and facing Frank. \*\*\* From outside the wrought-iron gate, the house looked relatively normal. Yes, it was decaying; yes, it was painted black, but there was nothing strange about the architecture itself. But as soon as I stepped into the overgrown yard, I began to feel dizzy, for the walls of the house had shifted ever so slightly. There were no more right angles, no more horizontal or vertical lines. It was like I were in one of Ed’s paintings—everything was slightly off. I hurried to the door, gripping the gun tightly in my right hand. As I was climbing the steps of the front porch, the door swung open. “Come in, David,” a hoarse voice called from far away. “I’m down the hall to the right in the living room.” As I stepped inside, the door swung shut behind me. I was in an impossibly long passageway that seemed to stretch forever in both directions. Doors lined both sides of the hall and, between them, on pedestals, sat marble busts. Above them, ensconced candles gave off a dim glow. I debated whether or not to follow Frank’s instructions and head to the right. I doubted it would matter. He was controlling this. No matter what I did, I would eventually meet him. I went to the right. As I made my way down the corridor, I stopped to examine the busts. They started out normally enough, depicting a variety of subjects, from young men to old women. But as I progressed, the busts became more and more grotesque. Initially, the subjects' facial features were distorted just slightly, but soon there were three-eyed men and two-headed women. Eventually, the busts stopped depicting humans altogether—there were sculptures of hideous apes and monstrous reptilian humanoids. While the appearances of the statues varied, the same name was engraved on all of them: Edwin F. Schumacher. I tried all the doors, but none of them opened. Nor did any sound come from behind them. The corridor was in constant flux. Initially, the changes were minor: the floor would drop an inch or so, or the walls would slightly angle in towards me. But, like the statues, the changes soon became more drastic. As I was looking at a bust of a jackal-faced man, the candles, busts and pedestals vanished, and the ceiling started dropping. As this was happening, the sound of the skeleton’s laughter began filling the hallway. It seemed to be coming from all directions, even from inside my skull, growing louder and louder as the ceiling continued to fall. I dropped to the floor, sure that I was going to be crushed. But the ceiling stopped a few inches above me. I just lay there. I knew Frank was watching me, that he was enjoying seeing me struggle. He wanted to see me crawl through the narrow passageway. I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. I fired my gun into the abyss. “I’m not playing games with you, Frank,” I shouted. There was no response but the skeleton’s laughter. \*\*\* I held my ground. After a few minutes, the ceiling rose and the candles reappeared. “Yoo hoo, the first door to your right,” Frank’s voice cried from somewhere. As I was debating what to do, the door swung open and a skeleton lunged at me. I jumped back in horror and fired a single shot at its skull. More laughter filled the corridor. I took a closer look at the skeleton. It wasn’t the specter that had haunted my dreams. Instead of a sorcerer’s hat, it was wearing a filthy blue dress and a gray wig. Attached to its pelvis was a long metal pole. *Nothing magical, just a cheap jump scare Frank had concocted.* “Sorry about that,” Frank said. “Try the next door.” \*\*\* It opened into a windowless room. Blue carpet, blue wallpaper, blue furniture. Sitting on a lounge chair by a roaring fire was Frank. He was dressed in light-blue pajamas and was smoking a meerschaum tobacco pipe. Next to the chair was an old-fashioned TV set, showing nothing but static. Resting on the madman’s lap was a book: *Danmark* by Benjamin Thor Zilberman. The same book that had been depicted in one of Ed’s watercolors. Frank looked up at me, set his pipe down, and smiled. “Did Aunt Theodora give you a wee fright? I’m sorry about that. She’s been dead for years, but please don’t tell anyone. My cousin Gary still collects her social security checks.” I pointed my gun at him, but he just laughed.“That’s not very nice,” he said, “barging into someone’s house and threatening its owner.” “Get the cartridge and throw it into the fire,” I ordered. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Dave,” Frank said. He started giggling like a little schoolgirl. “Oh, I’m so glad that I got to use that line.” “This isn’t funny, get the cartridge.” “I’m being serious, I don’t have it. Ed does.” “You murdered your brother. The monster you created from that ritual, the skeleton that you are using to kill children, that is not Ed. He was a gentle man.” Frank laughed again. “Do you really think so? Do you really think Ed was some innocent halfwit? You’ve done well in your investigation, I’ve been following your progress, but you haven’t learned the truth about Ed.” “I know the truth about you. I’m giving you one more chance. Destroy the cartridge or I’ll shoot you and search this house for it.” “Oh, Dave. Do you really think you can navigate this house without me? You’d be lost in an infinite hallway for eternity.” “I’ll shoot you then,” I said. “I think that will be enough to put an end to the skeleton’s rampage.” “Do you really think so? You think I’m some psychopath? That’s not true, I’m just a scientist, running an experiment, making observations, collecting data. Shooting me is the worst thing you could do. Without me to control the experiment, my brother would run amok.” “You’re not a scientist, you’re a madman.” “I can assure you that I am a scientist. But I do not study quantum field theory or particle physics. I study magic—” “And that’s why you’re killing innocent children? As sacrifices to some ancient gods?” “No. I have not killed anyone. All the deaths were at the hands of Ed.” “You killed your sister when—” “That was Ed.” “I don’t believe you.” Frank sighed. “Unfortunately, the records are all sealed, so I don’t have hard proof, but I believe our elementary school yearbooks are online. Go ahead, look at the 1969-1970 edition and compare it to the one a year later. Ed and I are both in the first one, but only one of the Schumacher twins is in the second. My brother was in an asylum outside of Sacramento.” I didn’t respond. “Go ahead,” Frank said. “Take out your phone, there’s service in this room. Look it up. You can try ringing the police, but I have a feeling your call wouldn’t get through. You can also check if José ever texted you back. I doubt it though. He’s not dead, don’t you worry, just incapacitated.” “Let him go. He has two little daughters.” Frank snickered. “Depending on the choices you make, you will be able to set him free. Now, look up the yearbooks. Daniel Webster Elementary School, named after the beloved statesman. Maybe afterwards we can trust each other.” I took out my phone and searched for the yearbooks. To my great surprise, Frank was apparently telling the truth. Both of the brothers were in the 1969-1970 yearbook, but in the following edition, only Frank was pictured. “Now do you believe me?” Frank asked. I didn’t. “You must have framed Ed for the murder. Or maybe you are actually Ed, you killed your sister and then switched—” “That would be quite the twist. A most twisty twist. But nope. Ed was a murderer back then. And he is a murderer today. He was always a sadistic child, loved torturing small rodents for fun, but no one thought it would escalate like it did.” “You’re also sadistic. You’ve been toying with me this entire time. I can tell you take pleasure—” “It’s just a little harmless fun. You were never seriously harmed, were you? Have a seat, I’ll tell you the true story.” I remained where I was. “Or stand,” Frank said with a chuckle. “Standing is good. I believe I read that four hours a day is optimal. If you sit too long, you are more likely to develop a pulmonary embolism, and that would be no fun. But I digress. You’re interested in the story of Evil Ed. After he murdered Sweet Eusapia, he was sent to a home for demented youth. There, he underwent a lobotomy. The procedure was becoming rarer in the early 70s, but it was still practiced. Did it help? Well, sort of. His sadistic nature disappeared, but he became a halfwit. Before he was of average intelligence, not a genius like me, but not a moron. However, after the procedure, his IQ was measured at 73, almost two standard deviations below the mean. “Ed got released when he turned 18; the authorities deemed that he was no longer a threat. And they were right. At first, I thought that his true nature was just latent, that when he got angry it would reappear, but it had completely vanished. Not a trace of the old Ed was left. Or so I thought.” “Sadism is apparently a trait that runs in your family,” I said. Frank shook his head. “No, I’m a scientist, not a sadist. Namely, a scientist of the occult. I was exposed to it at an early age. My Aunt Theodora, who you previously met, was into it. She had this library in the tower, full of works like this one,” he said, pointing to the thick volume on his lap. “I always thought she was loony, and she was. None of her books, to the best of my knowledge, contain any useful information. This volume here, *Danmark*, by Benjamin Thor Zilberman, is nothing more than the rantings of a madman. He wrote a 17-page letter to the King of Denmark because he thought his neighbor stole three of his apples. Can you believe that? A complete nutter. “The books were fun to read as a child, but over time I became convinced that there were no answers in them, that it was a bunch of quackery. By the time I was a teenager, my earlier fascination with the occult had been replaced by an interest in the natural sciences. After high school, I went to Caltech, where I studied physics and mathematics. Also got into MIT, but wanted to stay closer to home. In college, I got all As—” “Are you just bragging, or is this somehow relevant?” “Oh, it is quite relevant, Dave. I am not one to brag, although Caltech is consistently ranked in the top ten universities in the world. I do not think you can say the same about your alma mater, the University of Spoiled Children, can you? What are they ranked?” I didn’t respond. “Come on, Dave,” he said. “Don’t be bashful. What’s their ranking?” “I went to UCLA,” I finally said. “Oh, forgive me, what a silly mistake. Westwood. I do love Westwood. There was this little Persian restaurant there, just a hole in the wall, but they had the best eggplant I ever ate. Perfectly spiced. Made the drive over from Pasadena at least—” “Are you stalling or something?” I yelled. Frank chuckled. “Relax, Dave. Take a deep breath. Getting angry will do you no good. But please forgive me, I was getting a little off topic. I’ll make you a deal. I won’t get off on tangents if you keep your voice down. How does that sound?” “Fine,” I said. I had a gun, but Frank was in control. “Wonderful. Now, as I was saying, I got all As at Caltech, except for one course: Quantum Physics II. This is most germane, I assure you. The professor, Dr. Schwartzsmann, was a mean old German. I had a 94.3 average, the highest in the class, but Dr. S said that he felt no one did A-quality work, so, alas, I got a B. My senior year, I applied to several physics PhD programs, and got into all of them, except Stanford’s. All because of Dr. S. Still a bit bitter about that, to be honest. “So why didn’t I study physics at some other school? Well, it was because of my ex-girlfriend, Lorna Robinson. She was going to get her chemistry PhD at Stanford and wanted me to follow her there. She convinced me to apply to the mathematics PhD program in case I didn’t get into the physics one. Which is exactly what happened. I said that I could study at Berkeley, visit her on the weekends, but that wasn’t good enough for her. Major red flag, but I was too naive and too in love. So I followed her to Stanford. “We broke up in October of our first year. A month later she croaked. Do you want to guess how she died?”I didn’t say anything. “I didn’t kill her, David. No, as I said, I’m not some psycho. She died of a honey bee sting while out hiking. Unbeknownst to her, she was deathly allergic. Tragic. But her story’s irrelevant. Please forgive me for rambling. I had promised I wouldn’t do that. “Now, Stanford’s campus is quite different than most other colleges. Reminds you of a Spanish mission, with its yellow-sandstone buildings with red-tile roofs. No soaring Gothic towers like you find at many other universities. Relatively new too, founded in 1891. You wouldn’t think a place like that would harbor secrets—would harbor dark secrets—but it did. “One day, I was in the bathroom of the mathematics building when I noticed someone had etched 400 symbols into the wall of the stall. 20 rows of 20 characters. Intrigued, I jotted it down, thinking it might be some secret code. Spent hundreds of hours trying to crack it—it was a most devilish cipher—but after two months, I finally decrypted it. “It revealed that there was, uh, shall we say, a secret society at Stanford. Not a silly one, like Skull and Bones at Yale, where they give each other puerile nicknames and have stupid handshakes. More like a research group. A research group that focused on magic. “Now, you can’t say a bunch of silly words and wave a silly wand and expect to turn a silly rabbit into a silly cat. No, like physics, like any science, it has its laws. And if you try to practice magic without knowing them, disastrous results can arise. There was an Amish farmer in Pennsylvania who had some old grimoire. It had been passed down in his family for generations, but its secrets had long been forgotten. His daughter was dying of cancer, so he tried to utter some spell to save her. It failed, of course. Instead, his incantation resurrected an extinct race of apes. Those simians attacked his farmhouse. In the end, the apes were defeated, but his daughter died and he committed suicide.” He started laughing maniacally. I wondered if he really expected me to believe that absurd tale.“We weren’t the first to study it,” Frank continued after he regained his composure. “During the 12th-14th centuries, there were several groups working in various cities in what is now Germany. Unfortunately, the Church destroyed nearly all of their volumes. A few survived. In 1964, a mathematics professor at Stanford happened to stumble upon one of these grimoires. He realized that it wasn’t just a bunch of superstitious nonsense and the renaissance began. That research group was where I devoted most of my energy. The discoveries we made (well, it was mostly me who made them, but I try to be humble) were groundbreaking. They enabled me to do what you have witnessed. “I will fast forward a bit. As you know, Ed had an overactive imagination. But it was the dullest imagination. You read his book, could you imagine something more insipid? Although Ed’s dark side had apparently vanished, I had a feeling it could be reawakened. I wondered what worlds he could dream up. Based on my knowledge, I knew that to restore his dark side, he had to die. Then his spirit—his dark spirit—could be transferred to another world, a sandbox in essence, where he could turn his visions into realities. But it couldn’t be any death. It had to be a painful death, an excruciatingly painful death. And it had to be at his own hands. “So I set on a mission to humiliate Ed. He always talked about making a video game, so I thought let him make it and let his colleagues laugh at him. I snuck into the studio at night and worked on it with him. By that I mean I told him what to type and he did. Took longer than expected, it seemed like the Nintendo team purposefully made it overly complicated to develop a game for the N64, but after a week, we had a shitty game ready for Ed to demo. “Unfortunately, his colleagues’ reaction wasn’t enough. A few months later, I arranged for some high school kids to laugh at him, and that almost did the trick. He just needed a little more prodding. Later that day, I mentioned to him how many famous artists—like Rothko, Van Gogh, and Kirchner—killed themselves. But I told him he couldn’t just hang himself, it had to be a gruesome death if he wanted to become famous. In the end, I managed, with the help of some medieval charms, to persuade Ed to dissolve himself in a vat of acid. Can you imagine anything more painful?” Frank paused for several seconds. Apparently, it wasn’t a rhetorical question. “You’re a sick man,” was all I said. Frank snickered. “Thousands of primates die in medical research each year. Do you call those scientists sick? How many monkeys is one Ed worth? Five? Ten? Regardless—” “You weren’t developing a cancer drug. You just wanted to see kids die.” Frank shook his head. “That was not my intention. I did not foresee that. The first part of the experiment succeeded, Ed’s spirit was transported to another plane where he could play God. Unfortunately, my brother's creation wasn’t as exciting as I hoped it would be. It was dark, yes, but still quite dull.” He pointed to the old TV set. “That’s called an omnivisor. Allowed me to not only view Ed’s world, but your progress as well. Been keeping tabs on you, dear Dave. It’s a device of my own invention, before you had to stare at dishes full of liquid quicksilver.” Frank picked up his pipe, took another puff, and set it back down. “While I could see the world, I wanted to see if someone could travel there. The ancient texts mentioned various amulets in the forms of brooches or rings being used as gateways between worlds. So I thought why not update this for the 21st century? A Nintendo cartridge, one with Ed’s game on it, seemed like a good candidate.” “And you sent it out to some kid?” I asked. “You let him be the guinea pig?” He nodded. “There needed to be some distance between Ed and the test subject. I didn’t think Jason would die.” “I don’t believe you. I can tell you enjoy seeing them suffer.” “I know you won’t believe me, but I swear, I didn’t think he would die. The grimoire mentioned people being transported to another world in their dreams and waking up in a village ten or twenty miles from their homes. But it never mentioned someone dying. I honestly didn’t think that it was possible.” “And yet Jason Statler died.” “He did. And I shut down the experiment. That’s why no other kids vanished for over twenty years. Jason’s body, along with Ed’s spirit, was stuck in limbo in that other world. I was working on something else, something far greater—something that will, in my opinion, benefit mankind—over the past two decades.” “And what is that?” He laughed his crazed laugh. “This isn’t a video game, Dave. We’re not in a movie. The villain, although I wouldn’t consider myself a villain, doesn’t always reveal his plans. That is a secret that will remain a secret.” “You’re definitely a villain. You restarted the experiment. Or are you going to say that Ed managed to do that on his own?” “No, I’ll admit it was me. I returned the cartridge to the Statler home and implanted an idea in his mom’s mind that the old video games were just gathering dust and should be sold off. Why did I do that, you ask? Simple—I needed to collect data on the rate of degradation of Ed’s dream world. Based on my calculations, I estimate that after 30 more kids perish, Ed’s world will implode.” “And you’re going to let 30 kids die?” “Well, that is unless you destroy the cartridge. I’ve devised another experiment that I’m also interested in knowing the answer to. Depending on the choices you make, the cartridge will be destroyed. I won’t interfere with you.” “How? By beating Ed’s game? I know what he said during his talk at the library. The last level is unbeatable.” Frank chuckled. “That was just some silly thing I told Ed, I thought that the kids would laugh at it, but he took it to heart. No, you don’t need to beat that stupid game. You’re going to play *my* game. Go up to the top of the tower and you’ll see what you need to do. You can also just leave, my brother will not haunt your dreams any longer. You can live the rest of your life in peace, or as peacefully as you can knowing that you were responsible for the deaths of 30 kids. It’s your choice. As long as I’m alive, this house will not be bewitched.” \*\*\* I left the living room. The house was indeed no longer enchanted. The front door was about ten feet away on my left, the stairs to the tower twenty feet on my right. I thought about leaving, but then what? I couldn’t go to the police—they’d think I was crazy. And even if they didn’t, there was nothing they could do. Even if they spent all their resources trying to track down the *Desert War* cartridge, trying to prevent kids from playing it, it would likely do no good. Frank would surely find other means to ensnare innocent teenagers. *Was Frank telling the truth? Was there a way to destroy the cartridge?* Frank probably thought it was impossible, but I had a hunch he was overlooking something. He wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. He had previously messed up—he had gotten busted trying to steal a grimoire from the Berkeley library—and I was sure he had overlooked something here. Nearly all video games have glitches, things their developers couldn’t even begin to envision. If you told the creators of *Super Mario 64* in the ‘90s that there were glitches speed runners would exploit that enabled them to beat the game in under two hours, they’d have laughed at you. I made my way to the staircase and began climbing it. Unlike in Ed’s drawings, the stairs were perfectly level. In the upper room, there was a wooden bookcase, about fifteen feet tall. On its top shelf was that damned emerald green cartridge. In front of it there was a ladder, but I knew enough not to climb it. That’s what Frank expected me to do. Instead, I raised my gun and aimed it at the cartridge. As I was about to pull the trigger, the floor gave way. \*\*\* I fell, for what seemed like an eternity, in utter darkness. But, unlike in Ed’s book, I did not wake up in the magical land of Noosylvania. Instead, I was standing, without my gun, on some seemingly endless plane. There was no texture to this world. The ground was a solid block of light green, the sky a single tone of gray. Far off in the distance, I saw a speck of light on the horizon. Not knowing what else to do, I headed towards it. The landscape was unchanging, but every twenty steps or so, I would plummet into a pit. The falls didn’t injure me, and getting out was easy—I could just float to the top. All it did was add to the monotony of the journey. No matter how far I walked, the speck of light didn’t seem to get any closer. It reminded me of *E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial*, a 1982 Atari game widely regarded as one of the worst games of all time. In it, you wandered around, trying to find three pieces of a phone to call home. But there seemed to be no objective in this world. *Had Frank created some 3D version of it to torment me for eternity? If there was a video game hell, that would be it.* Finally, I saw something coming towards me—an old man riding a scrawny donkey. Unlike the rest of this world, he looked like a real flesh-and-blood creature. I called out to him, but he didn’t respond, just rode past me. *Was he some NPC, or was it someone else that Frank had managed to trap in this world? I doubt I will ever know.* \*\*\*Not long after the man passed, I stopped and yelled at Frank that I was done playing his game. Unlike in the hallway, nothing happened. Seeing no other choice, I resumed my journey. After a few more hours, Frank must have finally gotten bored with watching me on his omnivisor. As I had countless times before, I stumbled into another pit. This time, as I fell, everything faded to black. A few minutes later, I emerged in front of the mansion in Modesto. It was not decaying, was not painted black. Instead, it looked like it had in Ed’s watercolors. In the front yard, two children—a boy and a girl—were running around. “You’re Queen Neigh, you need to frolic,” the boy said. The girl stopped running. “I’m tired of playing this stupid game, Eddie.” “It’s not stupid—” The girl started laughing. “Yes it is. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Just like you.” The boy’s face turned red. Fade to black. Fade in. A man was leading a group of kids of varying ages into a video arcade. Most of them looked like they had been sedated, the only one who showed any emotion was a grinning Ed, who looked to be about 16 or 17. “Remember,” the chaperone said. “You each get four quarters. If you spend them all before the hour is up, that’s too fucking bad.” The kids ran over to a *Space Invaders* cabinet, the first blockbuster arcade game, released in 1978. Ed reached it first but was promptly shoved out of the way by the chaperone. Ed didn’t say anything, he just ambled off to a corner of the arcade where there was a claw machine. On top of a pile of junk was a green sorcerer’s hat. On his second try, he won the hat. He put it on and ran back to the chaperone. “Look what I won,” he cried. “Good for you, Ed,” the chaperone said. “I suggest that you wear it all the time. Then everyone who sees you will know what a fucking weirdo you are.” “I’m going to make games like *Space Invaders* when I’m older,” Ed said, seemingly unfazed by the chaperone’s comments. “I’m going to call myself Ed the Sorcerer.” The chaperone burst out laughing. “Ed, you are so damn stupid that you don’t even realize how stupid you are.” Another fade to black. A purple vase and a bowl of plastic fruit were resting on a wooden table. About fifteen students were drawing the still life, including Ed, who looked to be about twenty. He was wearing that same sorcerer’s hat. An instructor, an older woman in a paint-stained smock, walked around the room. When she reached Ed, she snatched the paper from his desk. As she held it up, the class burst out laughing. Ed had given the bowl and vase smiling faces and bulging eyes. “What do you think you are doing?” the instructor asked. “This is a serious exercise, but you’re treating it like a joke.” “I just thought I’d make them happy,” Ed protested. The instructor ripped Ed’s work into shreds. “Good art is not happy art,” she yelled. “Was Munch happy when he painted *The Scream*? Was Picasso happy when he painted *The Old Guitarist*? Get out of here, no one wants to see your happy 'art.'.” As Ed ran out crying, everything faded to black. Next, I saw Ed’s disastrous demo of his *Desert War* game to the Gooseberry Games team and his even more disastrous reading of his book at the Palo Alto High School Library. Then, I was in Ed’s old apartment with Frank and Ed. “I don’t want to do this,” Ed cried. “You said that you want to be a serious artist, but everyone just laughs at you," Frank said. "They think you are an idiot. If you don’t do this, you will never be taken seriously.” The two went back and forth for several minutes, but in the end, Ed reluctantly agreed. I tried to stop him, but I couldn’t. I was just an invisible observer, I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. For the second time, I witnessed Ed’s death. This time, I also saw Frank laughing as he watched his brother’s gruesome demise. Then I was back in front of the mansion. I don’t know what year it was, but the house was starting to fall into disrepair. Unlike before, I was able to move, and I made my way into the house. I searched all the rooms but found nothing. Finally, I made my way up the tower steps. In front of the bookshelf was an arcade cabinet covered by a black sheet. I pulled it off. I was expecting a classic like *Pac-Man* or *Donkey Kong*, but instead, I was looking at *Super Locomotive*, a 1982 Japanese release. The Japanese love their trains. They’ve developed dozens of train simulation games, and Super Locomotive was the first. Well, it wasn’t really a train simulator. Yes, you guided a train from station to station, but it wasn’t realistic at all. You wouldn’t expect a 1982 release to be. It comes as a surprise to many people, but train simulators are actually more complex than flight simulators. To make up for the lack of realism, the developers made it a side-scrolling action game. Enemy kamikaze trains tried to crash into you, while planes and blimps dropped bombs on you. Why had Frank chosen this game? I have no freaking clue. There was a quarter on top of the cabinet. I inserted it and began playing. It wasn’t a very popular release, and I think I only played it a few times many, many years ago. It was a little tricky, there were two screens—an overhead and a side view—you had to pay attention to, but I managed to pick it up quickly. As chiptune music played, I successfully completed the various levels. Afterwards, the bookcase swung open. Behind it was the cabin of an actual train simulator. The front window showed a locomotive chugging alone through farmland. The graphics were realistic, photo-realistic in fact. There were only two buttons on the dashboard, one marked ‘A’ and the other marked ‘B.’ Train simulators weren’t my thing—I had never been in one before—but I was pretty sure there was more to an actual train than two buttons. I sat down and watched the farmland pass by. Nothing happened. Bashed the buttons. Again, nothing happened. Frank seemed to get off on making me wait. After what seemed like an hour, I decided to explore the rest of the house, to see if there was something else I needed to find. I tried descending the stairs. However, it, like the seemingly “endless” staircase in *Super Mario 64*, had no ending. I returned to the tower room and began searching through the books when I heard an alarm blaring from the train simulator. I rushed back in. The face of Ed’s skeleton, wearing his sorcerer’s hat, had filled the horizon. But unlike before he was not laughing. There was a fork in the track coming up. The right branch led to a small wooden station. Bound to the left branch was José. Surrounding him were several metallic barrels, “FLAMMABLE” emblazoned on their sides. Hovering above him was the emerald-green cartridge. A large ‘A’ appeared over the left branch, a ‘B’ over the right. “Dave,” José cried. “Help me, please. Press B, please, please...” I looked around, tried to find some plug I could yank out, some way to end Frank’s sick game, but there was nothing. The alarm got louder and louder. “Five,” Frank’s voice yelled. “Four.” “Three.” “Two.” “Press B” José begged. “There's a way, there's—" "One." I pressed the A button and the train veered to the left. As José struggled against his bonds, the locomotive crashed into one of the barrels and burst into flames. Both José and the cartridge caught alight. Soon after, Ed’s skeleton was also in flames. He started wailing, the same screams that I heard when he was dissolving in acid. And then everything went black. \*\*\* I was back in the tower room. *It’s just a video game*, I told myself. *José isn’t dead*. On the floor was a pile of ash. Next to it were the burnt remains of Ed’s signature sorcerer’s hat. I looked around for my gun, but it had disappeared. I headed down to the living room. Frank grinned when he saw me. “Wasn’t that fun?” he asked. “Where’s José?” “He’s dead. Body likely charred beyond recognition. Bet they’ll have to use dental records to identify him, just like they did with poor Jason Statler. But the good news is that Ed is also gone. Permanently. He was getting a little uppity. Showed you that montage—that false montage—to try to make you feel bad for him. But I won’t have to worry about him any longer. I’m on to bigger things.” “I’m going to kill you,” I yelled. Frank started cackling. “Please Dave, don’t get like that. I had a feeling you would choose to sacrifice José for the greater good. It’s a classic problem in philosophy, the trolley problem. Lots of survey data on it, but, for obvious reasons, no real-world experiments. Until now. I know the sample size is only one, but—” I charged at the deranged lunatic. He just kept laughing. “This is a shame, Dave,” he said. “We had more to discuss. *Au revoir*.” He muttered some incantation in what sounded like German, dove into the fireplace, and vanished into its flames. \*\*\* My encounter with Frank was over two weeks ago. He was seemingly telling the truth when he said Ed is gone, for the string of disappearances has ended. I know for certain that he was telling the truth about José. His charred body was found in an almond orchard outside of Fresno. His funeral was last weekend. I will never forget the faces of his two little girls. There’s lots of talk around town, insidious rumors are spreading that he was involved with the cartels. I pray that his daughters don’t hear that awful talk. I hope they know he was a good man. As for Frank, he’s still out there. I don’t know what he’s working on, but I have a feeling that I will meet him again. It might not be for a year, it might not be for ten years, but I don’t think I’ve seen the last of him. Did I make the right choice? I ask myself that question constantly. I hope I did. I truly hope so…

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17e3ihs/desert_war_final/

nosleep

VisualSun9225

Dead Lake

There’s an urban legend in my town of a lake where people drown. It’s a hotly debated topic whether folks go there to drown by their own volition, or if the lake itself somehow drowns them. The unassuming body of water has a real name, which I nor anyone else can remember, but people have taken to calling it Dead Lake. “The Dead Lake draws people in like moths to a flame,” is what the spiffy post office clerk I met at a bar once told me. “It’s like that Japanese suicide forest. Some people drowned there, and then it sorta created a Streisand-effect where other suicidal people would go there to die,” said some wispy university-type at a cafe. “It’s *The Devil*. It’s always *The Devil*,” said my aunt Shirley, who seems to think that everything outside the church is ***The Devil*** (*Trademark of Satan Incorporated*). I knew they were all full of shit. I’m not bragging, but… I kinda sorta swim in Dead Lake all the time. It’s actually a really cute spot, and I’m grateful for its tarnished reputation - thanks to the legend, I got to swim in it all by myself. I like to go there on those summer days that begin with sweat and end with even more sweat. It’s a place to cool off from the heat, and to an extent, from the frightful idiots of our town. *I’m the Queen of Dead Lake, fuckers! I swim in the blood of the perished*, I used to think when the topic came up. *Rabies-ridden buncha hoo-haas!* But I guess there’s only so much to talk about in a town where there’s nothing to talk about. It gives people here some sense of permanence: there’s the factory on Grover Street, where everyone works, Duck’s, the bar owned by a man who is called Duck (but never calls himself that, giving the name of the establishment an aura of small town peer-pressure), and of course, Dead Lake, where all those unnamed, unknown people go and (or to) drown. So -- as Halloween was soon approaching, the legend picked up steam once again. Everyone seemed to mention Dead Lake in every little conversation they had - about how you should not go there at night, or at day, or *ever*, actually. How the spirits of the dead walk on the water, which my aunt vehemently insisted was *The Devil’s* blasphemy of Jesus and God herself. How it’s cursed, and then double-cursed, and then the witches and the satanists would triple-curse it once more and sacrifice babies under the blood moon. All this spookiness gave me an idea: *what if I went for a midnight swim on Hallow’s Eve?* Surely if the lake was *Dead* Lake and not just *a* lake, this was the time to experience it. And who knows, maybe there was some part of me that did want to drown; some sick, upside-down theory that I could escape the horrors of boredom in my silly little town via death by drowning. Incidentally, nothing more important came up, so I decided to do just that. When that *spoo-oOoky* October day came, I told my parents I’d be trick-or-treating with friends until late at night. There was so little to do that it wasn’t uncommon for even high schoolers to dress up and moan for candy - an easy and obvious alibi. I put on regular, not-spooky clothes, and on my head a pair of glittery horns. I told my parents I was ***The Devil*** as I stretched my tongue out of my mouth and made horn symbols with my hands. They chuckled, but told me to avoid aunt Shirley. “She’ll think we’re the parents of the devil,” mom said with a smirk, “and that would take *at least* six months of church going to fix.” To be fair, my alibi wasn’t a complete lie. I went out around 7 PM, met up with a couple of friends, Sarah and Jake (dressed as red riding hood and the big bad wolf, respectively), and we tricked and treated for a few hours until we amassed hefty bags of candy. Jake had brought a half-bottle of whiskey he’d stolen from his dad, and we drank it in swigs, eating candy after gulp to hide the disgusting taste. Solidly buzzed, I said bye to S & J around 11 PM. I told them I was going home, but once they were out of sight, I turned towards the lake. Even they were a bit superstitious about it, and I didn't want them ruining my plan. I arrived a bit before midnight. The cool, mirrored silver moon flickered in the tiny ripples of the water. Obviously, I was alone -- and sweaty, ready for a little cooling off. The whiskey still burned at the bottom of my stomach, and with nothing but candy to hold it off, the buzz still held on strong. I sat down to look at my watch, its digital letters spelling out **1 1 : 5 8** *pm*. I quickly undressed and eagerly plummeted into the water. It felt like any other time. There was no added spookiness, albeit there was the ambiance of Halloween stirring in my mind, but that mostly conjured up thoughts of Walmart-witches and moth-chomped sheets with holes cut out where the eyes would be. The lake was quite small, so I decided to swim to the center and back. Maybe being in the middle of the water, surrounded by pure darkness would grant me some sliver of the dark legend that was *Dead Lake*. As I swam, I felt something strange in the water. Like a current or something, pulling me ever so slightly inwards, towards the bottom. I chalked it up to the whiskey and kept going. Currents are the whims of the sea; not of small town lakes. Once I reached the center, I let my legs fall downwards, kicking the black water in slow movements to hold my head above water. I twirled to look around for Jesus reincarnate, but was not granted any such blessings. Even though I expected nothing, I was still a bit disappointed. I decided to swim back and head home, remembering to eat candy along the way to mask the stench of whiskey-breath. After a few strokes something stirred in the water again. The current, if that’s what it was, pulled me downwards. And not just by my legs, either, but now my torso, like it wanted me to go under. I’m not gonna lie, I got a bit scared. Had I actually been way drunker than I thought? Was this the solemn, dark reality of *Dead Lake* \- just a bunch of drunk people losing their standings in the water, drowning by stupidity? But I was a strong swimmer, and I wasn’t going to prove *Fucker Lake* right, so I steadied my breath and kept going. Not even fifty feet from the edge, I was pulledunderwater. I couldn’t feel anything grab me; it was more like a force of the water itself. I found myself at least five feet deep in a matter of seconds, and for a panicked moment I couldn’t discern which way was up. And not just because of the disorientation; because all around me the water glowed. A dark red hue pulsated through the water, giving it a texture like swirls of blood. I tried to pull myself upwards, *hoping that it really was upwards*, but that force, like a silent whisper, beckoned me to look down. As I pulled with my arms, I - or *something* \- craned my neck downwards, and I saw what lay in the depths of the lake. The bottom of the lake was barren of rocks, plants, and fish. It’s like everything that makes a lake, you know, a lake, was ripped out and tossed away. Instead, the bottom was filled with faces. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them, crammed next to each other so tightly that their wide black eyes seemed on the verge of bursting open. The red hue made the faces look purple, like they were still at the brink of being alive, desperately trying to gasp for air with their mouths wide open. As I stared at them, the involuntary signal to breathe pushed its way through the subconscious. But I couldn’t look away. They all stared at me, a thousand black eyes. I was running out of oxygen, but then the two thoughts battled and mixed and I needed to breathe so I did but I was still underwater and the sweet red water filled my lungs. Panic set in. I could feel my lungs becoming heavier. I wasn’t going to die, was I? Something in me wanted to, but my arms and legs disagreed and fought the current, pulling me upwards. When I came back up the lake was black and silent again. I coughed up water as I struggled to breathe, swimming towards shore. With my muscles at their very end, I managed to pull myself to dry land. I laid on my stomach, coughing up splatters of water and mucus, trying desperately to regain myself. After my lungs were dry, I puked up whiskey and bile. Not my proudest moment. Once my legs were strong enough to hold me up, I walked home. I slept for like twelve hours. When I woke up, it all felt like a bad dream, like, I’d done something stupid while drunk and only half remembered it. And maybe that was it. Some momentary psychosis, or something. I tried to forget all about it. After that night, every time I went to sleep, I dreamed of water… red water that swirls and pulls me and won’t let go. Water like an ocean, *mindless*, stretching infinitely in all directions. I’ve begun to sleepwalk, and sometimes I’ve woken up in the middle of the street… around the exact halfway point from my house to the lake. I’m scared that someday soon I’ll wake up from a dream, and I’ll find myself back in the lake, surrounded by the red water, those black eyes staring at me, and I’d breathe in the water and sink to the bottom, and the faces would make way and pull my body into the bottom, burying me up to my neck. And I’d scream and try to breathe but all I could do was watch. Nobody would know where I’d gone, and the cartoonish legend of Dead Lake would live on amongst the idiots in this town. And maybe some other bored teenager would have the same idea as me, and rebel against the small-minded hubbub. And if the lake is to become my grave, I don’t know what else to do but warn people of it. Don’t go to Dead Lake. Not just because the wishful townspeople say so, with colorful exaggerations of its nature. Don’t go there, because the reality is much, *much* worse. It’s not worth it to find out.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17du0sm/dead_lake/

nosleep

Adomanzius

I'm a Cop on the Navajo Reservation, I Investigated a Killer Who Steals His Victims' Skin (Part 2)

[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/174jp2m/im_a_cop_on_the_navajo_reservation_i_investigated/) **The Wind-Talker's Warning** With adrenaline still coursing through our veins, Izzy and I quickly regroup. I pull out a first-aid kit from my cruiser, cleaning and dressing our wounds as best as I can. The gash on Izzy's forehead looks deep, but she brushes off my concern, her eyes filled with a determination that mirrors my own. The chilling events of the evening leave an indelible mark on our minds, but we can't afford to be paralyzed by fear. With a deep breath, I reach into the cruiser, grabbing the radio. "Mandy, this is Logan. Do you copy?" After a moment, Mandy's voice crackles through, tinged with concern. "Logan, where've you been? The station's been trying to get a hold of you. Are you okay?" I hesitate, considering how to relay the night's events. "Mandy, we've got a situation here. I need to speak with Chief Nakai immediately." There is a brief pause. "Hold on," Mandy replies, her voice wavering slightly, perhaps picking up on the urgency in my tone. After a few tense moments, the gruff voice of the police chief comes through the radio. "Logan, it's Chief Nakai. What's going on?" Taking a deep breath, I quickly explain the events with the Begays, the strange footprints, and the horrifying confrontation with what seemed like a doppelgänger of Maggie. There is a long pause before the police chief responds. "Are you trying to tell me you confronted some sort of... [creature](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1581vef/our_search_for_a_missing_teen_uncovered_the/)? That's... hard to believe." "Sir," I say, my voice firm, "I know how it sounds. But both I and the FBI liaison witnessed it. This isn't a joke. People are in danger." Nakai sighs. "I've heard the legends just like everyone else, but to think they might be real... Logan, give it to me straight. How serious is this?" I don't mince words. "Sir, I think it's bad. Bad enough that we might need to initiate Dinétah Shield." There is [another](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MGd1F6Ay8ho) heavy silence. Dinétah Shield is a protocol meant for dire emergencies, meant to rally the community against threats that are beyond the understanding of the typical law enforcement. Finally, Chief Nakai responds, his voice heavy. "I understand. I'll need to consult with the tribal authorities, but I'll send all available officers to your location immediately. We'll set up a perimeter and make sure this... thing doesn’t get any further." "Thank you, Chief," I reply, relieved. “Over and out.” Izzy, having overheard my conversation with Chief Nakai, turns to me, her brows furrowed in confusion. "Dinétah Shield? What's that?" "Dinétah Shield," I begin, my voice shaky from the weight of our recent encounter, "was developed in the aftermath of the COVID outbreak that devastated our reservation. It's a protocol designed for rapid response to any significant threats to the Navajo Nation." Izzy's eyes widen as she takes in the gravity of what I'm saying. "So, it's like...a state of emergency?" I nod. "Exactly. It involves several steps. First, the immediate community is locked down. No one comes in, and no one leaves. Every resident is accounted for, and regular check-ins are established." Izzy shifts uncomfortably, taking in the implications. "But... if we're locking down the community, that means..." "That whatever we're dealing with," I interrupt, "is trapped inside with us." The weight of that reality hangs heavily between us. The protocol was designed to protect, but in this instance, it felt like we were sealing ourselves in with a predator. She gulps, her earlier bravado faltering for a moment. "What's the next step?" "Information dissemination," I continue. "Every household is informed of the threat, with instructions on how to protect themselves and their [families](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16texdg/im_a_private_investigator_in_new_orleans_i/). The community leaders gather to coordinate resources, ensuring that essential supplies are distributed and that everyone has access to food, water, and medicine." Izzy nods, processing the information. "And after that?" I hesitate for a moment, choosing my words carefully. "After that...we hunt. The police, along with volunteers, form search parties. We'll scour every inch of the reservation until we find and neutralize the threat." — The sun sets quickly, painting the desert in eerie shades of red. As darkness takes over, Tsegi transforms into a fortress before my eyes. Barricades rise at the town’s entrance and exit points, with officers and volunteers standing guard, every sense on high alert. To the outside world, it's as if Tsegi has disappeared — cut off, silent, and bristling with tension. Within hours of initiating Dinétah Shield, the heart of Tsegi transforms into a hive of activity. The usually quiet streets echo with the voices of the community — anxious murmurs, hushed whispers, and the occasional shouted command. The vast desert around us feels like an enclosing wall, the vastness suddenly claustrophobic. Our first challenge is reaching every household. Many of the homes in Tsegi are spread out, and some are located in more remote parts of the reservation. Communication often depends on word of mouth and a network of trusted community members who often spread news faster than any electronic means. Despite difficulties, word spreads quickly, with the initial information being broadcasted on local radio stations. Volunteers mobilize in droves, forming small teams to personally visit each home, ensuring that every resident heard the message. Texts are sent out, written in both English and Navajo, detailing the current situation and the necessary precautions. As night deepens, trucks equipped with loudspeakers drive through the streets, broadcasting warnings and instructions. The haunting sound of the announcements echoing through the desert is an unsettling reminder of the threat we face. The community center, a large, multipurpose hall normally used for town meetings and celebrations, is quickly repurposed as a temporary refuge. The aim is to gather as many residents as possible in one location where they can be accounted for and monitored. By midnight, the center is abuzz with activity. Families huddle together on makeshift beds, children's eyes wide with a mix of fear and fascination. Elders whisper prayers, their voices weaving a comforting tapestry of tradition and faith amidst the unease. Temporary stations are set up, distributing food, water, and first aid. Local doctors and nurses volunteer their time, providing medical checks for those who need them. I make my way through the sea of faces, offering words of comfort and ensuring that everyone is accounted for. My presence is a familiar face for many, a reminder that they’re not facing this horror alone. The thrum of anxiety is palpable, but beneath it is a stronger current: unity. The residents of Tsegi might be afraid, but they are determined to face the threat head-on, together. Izzy stands a little apart from the crowd, making a series of rapid-fire calls on her satellite phone. The metallic device looks out of place amidst the traditional surroundings, but I can see the importance of her task. She’s trying to get outside assistance, to bring the full weight of the FBI to bear on our situation. After what seems like hours, she finally ends her last call and makes her way over to me. Her face is etched with frustration, the ever-present determination now tinged with a hint of desperation. "Logan," she says, her voice tight, "I've contacted everyone I could at the bureau. They're concerned, of course, but Tsegi is remote and it's difficult for them to understand the magnitude of what we're facing. They’ve promised to send a team, but it will be at least a day before they arrive." I nod, the weight of her words settling heavily on my shoulders. A day might as well be a year in our current situation. Izzy continues, "On the plus side, they're willing to provide any remote support we need. They've set up a communication line directly with their special ops center. We'll have access to their databases, surveillance tech, anything that can be managed from a distance." "That's something," I reply, trying to sound more hopeful than I feel.— With the shroud of night already blanketing Tsegi, setting up a perimeter proves challenging. Using high-beam flashlights, portable lanterns, and even the headlights of parked cars, officers and volunteers manage to establish checkpoints and barriers. It's an impressive feat, especially given such short notice and vastness of the reservation. But even as I gaze out over the barbed-wire barriers and makeshift checkpoints, I feel a pit in my stomach. The dark desert night, usually filled with the beauty of stars and the gentle chirp of cicadas, was now cast in an eerie, unsettling quiet. The sheer vastness of the reservation made the idea of a nighttime manhunt daunting and dangerous. The desolate terrain, full of deep canyons, rocky outcroppings, and treacherous sand dunes, was a landscape that promised to swallow up the unprepared. "What do you think?" Izzy asked, surveying the edge of town where officers and volunteers were stationed. They were equipped with floodlights, radios, and assault rifles, casting long shadows in the sparse moonlight. I sighed, my mind working overtime. "A search now would be too risky. The darkness gives whatever that creature is an advantage. We'd be going in blind." She nodded in agreement, her lips set in a grim line. "The FBI's surveillance equipment will help, but it's not foolproof. Infrared and thermal imaging can pick up body heat, but the desert night cools rapidly. And if this thing can shape-shift or mimic, we might not even recognize it on camera." A heavy realization dawned. Our enemy was not just elusive but potentially invisible in plain sight. The thought of that creature hiding among us, waiting for its next opportunity, sent shivers down my spine. "We need to hunker down for the night," I said. — The community center was a hive of activity. Children were herded to the center of the large hall, surrounded by parents and grandparents who whispered reassurances. Makeshift barriers were erected at the entrances, with men and women from the community taking shifts to stand guard. The aroma of strong coffee permeated the air, a silent acknowledgment that many wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight. Despite the imminent threat, some residents, overwhelmed by the day's events, find solace in each other. Elders tell stories of the old times, blending myth with history, grounding the scared souls in the traditions of their ancestors. As the hours wear on, a weighty stillness envelops the community center. The murmurs and whispers from earlier in the evening give way to the sound of soft snoring and the occasional restless shift of someone turning over in their makeshift bed. I can sense the fatigue pulling at the edges of my consciousness, urging me to close my eyes and find respite in sleep. But the sense of duty, the weight of responsibility, keeps me on edge. Izzy and I sit side by side on cots we've set up near a corner of the center. I can see the strain of the day evident in the lines of her face, the tiredness reflecting in her blue eyes. We keep each other awake, sharing stories, thoughts, and speculations about the creature that has thrust our world into chaos. Our conversations are hushed, our voices barely above whispers, as we try not to disturb those around us. My eyelids grow heavy, and I can feel the weight of exhaustion settling in. My head dips, chin almost touching my chest, and I jerk awake, feeling a rush of adrenaline as if I've been caught off guard. It's a brief respite, but moments later, my body betrays me again, my consciousness threatening to slip away. And then it happens — a sound pierces the quiet, jolting me to full wakefulness. It's eerie, otherworldly, and unlike anything I've ever heard. It's as if the very air is vibrating, sending chills down my spine. Izzy is on her feet immediately, her hand instinctively moving to the sidearm holstered on her hip. We exchange a glance, a silent agreement passing between us. Together, we follow the haunting sound, trying to locate its source. As we move through the center, I notice that many are still asleep, their rest undisturbed by the chilling noise. But those who are awake wear expressions of fear and recognition, their eyes wide and filled with dread. The haunting sound grows louder, more insistent, and I can't shake the feeling that it's beckoning us. We navigate through the sleeping masses, moving towards the source of the noise. As we get closer, I recognize the voice, though it's imbued with an otherworldly quality I've never heard before. It's Chester Nez, the oldest member of our community and one of the last surviving Code Talkers, the heroes of World War II who used the Navajo language as an unbreakable code against the Japanese. The weight of history and wisdom rests upon his shoulders, and to see him in this state is unnerving. He sits upright on his cot, eyes glazed over, chanting cryptically in Navajo. The words are ancient, rhythmic, and they seem to resonate with the very air around us. Around him, the few who are awake stare in shock, some with hands over their mouths, others whispering prayers. This isn't the Chester they know. This is something else, something deeply unsettling. Izzy and I approach Lani, Chester's granddaughter, who stands a few feet away, her face pale and eyes wide with alarm. "Lani," I call out softly, trying to keep my voice steady. "What's happening to him?" She looks at me, her eyes shimmering with tears. "I don't know, Logan," she replies, her voice trembling. "He was sleeping peacefully, and then he just... started chanting. I've never heard him speak those words before." Izzy kneels beside Chester, listening intently to the chant, trying to decipher any meaning. "It sounds like an ancient ritual," she murmurs, "but I can't make out the words." The room seems to grow [colder](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/14c93t1/im_an_arctic_researcher_we_accidentally_released/) as Chester continues his chant, his voice growing louder and more forceful with every word. I try to catch fragments of his recitation, searching for any discernible meaning. Among the rapid flow of Navajo words, a phrase catches my attention: Ha’ąą yee naaldlooshii... Yee yisdáágo bíhozhǫǫgi... Izzy, looking bewildered, turns to me. "What is he saying?” I whisper, trying to keep my voice steady, “He says, ‘Beware the one who goes on all four... The skinwalker is here...'” Izzy's face turns ashen. "Skinwalker?" Before I can answer, the lights in the community center abruptly go out. Total darkness envelops us. The air becomes thick, charged with tension and fear. The faint glow from a few cell phones casts eerie shadows on the walls, their illumination swallowed by the vastness of the room. The faint, limited light from scattered cell phones can't pierce the consuming blackness. Every sense is heightened, but sight has betrayed us. A cacophony of fear fills the void — the sharp inhalation of breath, the quiet mutterings of prayers, the stifled sobs of children. And then, from the deep pockets of the enveloping darkness, there's a new sound: the soft, almost inaudible patter of something moving, creeping closer. The silence that follows is stifling, oppressive. Each one of us strains to hear, to discern any hint of movement, to prepare for whatever is about to happen. But all that meets our ears is a faint scraping, like nails on a chalkboard, only more... organic. It’s a maddening, sinister sound, dragging itself inch by inch, coming from multiple directions at once. Chester’s chanting has ceased, but now a different, chilling voice, dripping with malice, hisses out, “Hózhǫǫgii tsosts'idii...” (You're out of time...) A mimicry of Chester's warning. Suddenly, a heart-stopping scream pierces the air, followed by another, and then another. The terror in those screams is palpable, contagious, setting off a chain reaction of panic throughout the room. As if in response, a chorus of guttural, alien sounds rises up, surrounding us. The predator — or predators — have infiltrated our redoubt. "Stay back!" I shout, brandishing my weapon, trying to pinpoint a target in the disorienting gloom. My voice cracks with a mix of determination and fear. Another scream, closer this time, is cut short with a grotesque gurgling sound. “Logan, where are you?” I hear Lizzy shouting. I reach out, desperate to find Izzy, to ground myself in the chaos. My fingers graze something warm and wet. I pull back instinctively, wiping my hand on my shirt, trying not to think about what I might've touched. The cacophony is deafening — cries for help, shouts of warning, the terrible sounds of struggle. And overlaying it all, that inhuman hissing, mocking and gleeful. A beam of light suddenly slices through the darkness — a flashlight, wielded by someone brave or desperate enough to reveal themselves. In its glow, a scene from nightmares: twisted, shadowy figures, half-human, half-beast, their skin a mottled, shifting mass, moving with unnatural speed and grace. Theirs eyes, voids of endless hunger, lock onto the light’s source. And then they pounce. The beam wavers and then falls, casting eerie, dancing shadows before plunging us once again into darkness. Another scream, quickly silenced. [X](https://www.reddit.com/r/PageTurner627Horror/)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17e4pr1/im_a_cop_on_the_navajo_reservation_i_investigated/

nosleep

PageTurner627

A QR code led me to a strange Choose Your Own Adventure video series.

A year ago, I was tasked by my parents to check on their house every week while they were traveling abroad. The drive to and from my hometown is conveniently the duration of an episode from my favorite podcasts, so I did not mind the weekly escapism on the road. Another comfort of mine for impromptu road trips was usually taking Bruno with me, but he was misbehaving so incessantly during the first house check-in that I figured long-distance travel gives him anxiety now. In preparation for the second check-in, I left him at my house with his all-time favorite treat. The hour-and-a-half drive went by in a flash. As I walked towards the front doorstep, I noticed an envelope tucked underneath the doormat. I pulled it out and examined the outside thoroughly—sealed, no postmark, no addresses, no ink at all. Breaking the seal revealed a sliver of paper with a QR code in the center. I skeptically looked around the neighborhood before I unlocked the front door and entered my parents’ home. Bewildered on the couch, I scanned the QR code with my phone's camera which prompted a link to pop up. I have always been cautious of phishing scams but the URL itself seemed to be a legitimate YouTube link. Out of pure curiosity, I clicked on it, causing the YouTube app to open with an unlisted video titled “New Home, New Adventures, New Memories (Part 1)”. My eyes darted around the page and landed on the channel name “New Resident”. When I clicked on it, I was further perplexed by the channel’s emptiness—blank profile picture, no public videos, no description. Shrugging it off, I went back to the video and pressed play. \*\*\* **Video Series Part 1 - Grocery Shopping** The video begins with an amateurish-looking title card “New Home, New Adventures, New Memories” followed by texts that fade in and fade out—“A Choose Your Own Adventure Series” and “Part 1 - Grocery Shopping.” It then cuts to a POV shot of a person walking through an aisle inside a store. Glimpses of a shopping cart can be seen at the bottom of the frame with contents appearing to be boxes of food, a set of kitchen knives and utensils, and other supplies just out of frame. In an almost disorienting fashion, the video frequently cuts to random shots of the POV panning the items on the shelves or turning into different aisles, each shot being sped up more than the last. The last shot includes the POV speed walking down a wider walkway and then a freeze frame with white text that says “What should I buy next for my new home?” The video ends with two clickable options on the screen: “Mug” or “Kitchen Gloves” \*\*\* My eyebrows were furrowed throughout this mundane yet moderately-edited vlog. Was I supposed to find this video entertaining? Who thought a QR code on people’s doorstep was a good way to advertise this so-called series? Questions were racing in my head, but I left little time for contemplation before clicking on the “Kitchen Gloves” option. YouTube opened another unlisted video titled “New Home, New Adventures, New Memories (Part 2)”. \*\*\* **Video Series Part 2 - Drive-Thru** The video begins just like Part 1 except now with the text “Part 2 - Drive-Thru”. It cuts to a POV shot of the person reaching for yellow kitchen gloves in the store and then exiting the building. The next shot is the POV driving on the road followed by a side glance towards the passenger seat where a plastic grocery bag sits, exposing yellow kitchen gloves and a mug engraved with black text. Just as disorienting as Part 1, the video frequently cuts to random shots of the POV panning beyond the windshield and turning into different roads, each shot being sped up more than the last. The last shot includes the POV at an intersection turning into a road where you can see multiple fast food restaurants in the distance and then a freeze frame with white text that says “From which restaurant’s drive-thru should I pick up food?” The video ends with two clickable options on the screen: “McDonald’s” or “Jack in the Box” \*\*\* A wave of goosebumps appeared on my arms when I observed the freeze frame closely. The intersection and restaurants shown in the video were a 5-minute drive away from my parents’ house. My brain had not processed whether the close proximity of this person is something worrisome or simply innocuous, especially if other folks in the neighborhood had received a similar envelope. I reassured myself that the nature of the questions at the end of each video lends to the silliness of the series and its creator, so I proceeded and clicked on the “McDonald’s” option. The next unlisted video was titled “New Home, New Adventures, New Memories (Part 3)”. \*\*\* **Video Series Part 3 - Home Sweet Home** The video begins just like Parts 1 and 2 except now with the text “Part 3 - Home Sweet Home”. It cuts to a POV shot of the person in the car entering a McDonald’s drive-thru. The video then cuts to the POV leaving the drive-thru followed by a side glance towards the passenger seat where a greasy bag of McDonald’s sits, now eclipsing the view of the grocery bag. Deviating from the patterns of Parts 1 and 2, the video cuts to black for a few seconds and then cuts to the POV parking on a suburban street with the sun glaring over the horizon. The last shot includes the POV approaching the house to the left with an SUV parked on the driveway and then a freeze frame with white text that says “How should I enter my new home?” The video ends with two clickable options on the screen: “Front Door” or “Bedroom Window” \*\*\* My eyes widened, my heart sank to my stomach, and chills ran down my spine upon seeing my parents’ SUV and house in the video. My breath quivered as I tried to inhale and then exhale deeply. Not sure what to do next, I carefully peeked through the blinds; my car and my parents’ SUV were still outside, nothing or nobody else in sight. I then turned my head forward, cautiously glancing towards the back of the house. My body’s fight-or-flight response defaulted to a third option: freeze. My eyes slowly returned to my phone with the hope that the next video gives me the courage to do something, anything proactive. My body buried itself further into the couch as I clicked on the “Front Door” option, which led to an unlisted video titled “New Home, New Adventures, New Memories (Part 4)”. \*\*\* **Video Series Part 4 - Home Protection** The video begins just like Parts 1, 2, and 3 except now with the text “Part 4 - Home Protection”. It cuts to a POV shot of the person’s gloved hand frantically trying to open the front door but to no avail. The video then cuts to the POV going around the house, opening the gate to the backyard, and approaching a window behind the house. The gloved hands open the window with ease, and the POV enters the house and goes into a bedroom. In a similar vein as Parts 1 and 2, the video frequently cuts to random shots of the POV panning family pictures on the wall and turning into new areas of the house, each shot being slowed down more than the last, each shot becoming dimmer and dimmer as night begins to fall, each shot having a large kitchen knife entering more and more into frame, each shot having the knife graze deeper and deeper into the surface of every subsequent family picture. The last shot of this sequence lingers on a closeup of a man’s face with the knife’s tip slowly twisting on the man’s forehead. The video then cuts to the POV facing towards the front door with headlights projecting onto the front windows. After the headlights outside turn off, the video is solely illuminated by the street light filtering through the blinds. The POV and the knife at the corner of the frame leisurely advance towards the door. All of a sudden, a loud barking emanates outside. The POV instantly pivots, runs through the darkness of the house while panting, and closes a bedroom door behind them. The video footage continues to roll but is now completely black. The unrelenting barking and the voice of a man emerge inside the house and become more and more audible. A sudden light under the bedroom door illuminates the video ever so slightly, and the deafening barks are now on the other side of the door. The video cuts to the bedroom window backlit by the moon, with gloved hands coming into frame and slowly opening the window. It then cuts to a POV shot outside of the house facing towards the other side of the now-closed window. The POV crouches and moves towards the gate. The next shot is the POV casually approaching their car. Their non-gloved hand reaches for the handle, only to stop when the house’s front door opens. POV turns around, and a medium-sized dog runs into frame, barking at peak volume. The barking continues for several seconds. The POV slowly leans down and extends their hand out, allowing the dog to briefly become silent and smell their hand. After a few seconds of sniffing, the hand slowly moves around the dog’s head and begins scratching behind the dog’s ears. A man from a distance jogs towards the POV and into frame. Man: “So sorry about that, Bruno has been barking nonstop since I got here. Hope he didn’t scare you.” POV: “No worries. Dogs will do everything they can to protect their owners. I was just about to be on my way. Are you heading out too?” Man: “Yeah. Just wanted to stop by the house. And check my parents.” POV stands up. Bruno resumes barking. Man: “Alright, alright, calm down Bruno. It’s time to go home. Very sorry again, hope you have a good rest of your night.” POV: “Thanks, you too... See you later.” The last shot includes the POV entering their car while tossing a large backpack into the backseat and then a freeze frame with white text that says “To be continued.” The video cuts to black and ends. \*\*\* Hyperventilation. Sweats. Panic. I remembered approaching this man the week before. He had worn glasses, dark clothes, and a backpack. His last words to me echoed in my mind: “See you later.” The adrenaline finally compelled my body to stand up, leave the house, lock the door, and rush to my car. My hands shook violently as I dialed 9-1-1. I tried my best explaining to the call taker everything that happened—the envelope, the unlisted videos, the intruder. After the call taker said cops should be arriving shortly and ended the call, a thought immediately occurred to me: I need to gather as much evidence as possible. I started screen recording my phone and returned to the YouTube app, only to see the error message “This video has been removed by the uploader.” I pressed the back button, and it was more of the same for the other three videos. There was no longer a way for me to access the “New Resident” channel either. Any evidence that these videos existed was gone forever. Defeated, I sat idly by in my car waiting for the police. \*\*\* A few weeks later, I told my parents everything when they returned from their stress-free, month-long trip. To my relief, they believed me and were not upset that I had not told them earlier. It was absolutely imperative that I helped them get a security system, doorbell camera, and backyard camera installed right away. The intruder was still somewhere out there. After investigation, the police reported several fast food wrappers being the only things present in the outdoor trash can. The wrappers were from Jack in the Box and McDonald’s. Unfortunately, the police investigation amounted to nothing further. No signs of the intruder leaving any of his belongings behind. No unusual fingerprints or DNA on the envelope, piece of paper, food wrappers, doors, my old bedroom window, or the scratched family photos. No useful testimonials from neighbors. No way to view the deleted videos from the QR code link. Even my description of the intruder and his car ended up being too general and vague. The police ultimately agreed that a security system was the best path forward and that if there is any other suspicious activity relevant to the investigation, please report it back to them. \*\*\* Today, I decided to visit my parents’ home. After months of repressed feelings and skirting around the topic, the three of us finally reflected on last year’s events. Me: “So… has anything out of the ordinary happened ever since the security system was installed? Any weird strangers popping up around the neighborhood?” Dad: “Other than you and Bruno, I don’t think so.” Mom: “Yeah, no mysterious wrappers from Wendy’s or McDonald’s appearing in the trash can. So that’s a plus. Of course, I still get scared at night thinking about an evil man walking around my home with a knife.” Me: “I still get nightmares too. And not that it matters, it was Jack in the Box, not Wendy’s. Guess the dude’s not a fan of square patties… I still find it funny how his videos were supposed to be a Choose Your Own Adventure game and I chose McDonald’s for the guy, but he just couldn’t resist also getting a Jumbo Jack. Like at least have some damn integrity.” My dad’s eyes widened. Me: “What? Too soon for me to tell dad jokes?” Dad: “No. You just reminded me of something. From the videos you described.” My dad walked over to a kitchen cabinet and tried to reach for something. My mom peered from behind. Dad: “Not sure exactly when, but about a month ago, I found this in the sink one morning and didn’t think much of it. I use it a lot nowadays but I'm 100% certain it wasn’t in this house before.” Mom: “Oh really honey? I thought maybe you bought that.” After my dad pulled it out, I felt my heart pounding in my chest. I was in utter shock. My parents gauged my reaction, almost as a confirmation, and quickly came to the same realization as me. It was a mug with the engraving: [“New Home, New Adventures, New Memories”](https://i.imgur.com/2eQB0zJ.jpeg).

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dz7en/a_qr_code_led_me_to_a_strange_choose_your_own/

nosleep

TheDuskDragon

Autumn syrup is pure magic

You could see it as funny, if you have a dark and possibly insidious sense of humour. All I was trying to do was support small business. I had been reading about the decline of mom-and-pop shops, and the looming corporations looking for a small window to usurp the market. So when I saw a sign for a farm stand a few backroads off my typical path, I went straight away. The lanes meandered, transforming from asphalt to gravel to dusty dirt. And, as promised, I finally pulled up to a lead-white farmhouse with a brick coloured barn a few hundred yards away. The edges of the fields and orchards lined the way, with beautiful scarecrows stuffed with leaves decorating the perimeter. In front, in the dirt driveway, stood a well-worn wooden booth manned by an old woman with a long grey braid down her back. I smiled as I approached, a little flutter in my belly as I thought about talking to someone who wasn't a furious customer on the other end of a phone line. “Hi there!” I called. The woman turned around with a soft smile on her lips, a soft crinkling of crow's feet perched at her eye. “Well now, you're a new face!” she said, beaming.“Yeah, I saw your sign off the road and just had to come! And such a lovely place!” “Hmm, well aren't you just as sweet as autumn syrup,” she remarked, a sharp look to her eyes threatening to creep in. But just as I noted it, it vanished. Brushing off my moment of discomfort, I asked, “autumn syrup? Is that the same as maple syrup?” She smiled like I just asked her a million dollar question. “Maple syrup pales in comparison, honey. Autumn syrup is pure magic. The smell...the taste...if ya love the season, you simply must have it!” She beckoned me to follow her a few dozen feet to the farm stand, and slipped behind it to reach below in what I assumed were shelves built into the booth. A smooth glass bottle, maybe the size of a nip or two, was in her hand. Hallock Farms Autumn Syrup The label was refined in a rustic way, soft script declaring its name. The woman leaned in closer to me when she handed the bottle off. “I'm Mary, by the way.” Taking the bottle and shaking her hand, I introduced myself as well. "Birdie? That's a lovely name. Haven't heard it in decades much, now have we? Birdie, I think you're a special one. Tell ya what-- you take this autumn syrup home, free of charge. I think you'll enjoy it so much that it'll be payment enough in its own right. Ya find yourself needing more, you know where to find me.” The kindness of this woman made my heart ache. “Oh, Mary, please-- don't be silly. I'm happy to pay for the aut--” "Now Birdie, you heard me. You take this autumn syrup, you enjoy it. That's all I want. Now go along, and I'll see ya when it's time.” She dismissed me, and with a slight dampening to my spirits after, I headed back to my car. I still had an extra skip in my step though-- I loved fall, and I couldn't wait to try this syrup. I removed the lid in the car to take a whiff, and was overwhelmed by impossible aromas of autumn. Crunchy leaves on a forest trail; apple cider mulling on the stovetop; pumpkin guts, cinnamon. The whole drive home, I thought about what recipe I'd like to make first to try this intoxicating syrup. An hour later, I was on my couch with a plate of apple-cinnamon pancakes and the bottle of autumn syrup on the tabletop. Settling into my regular nook, I cut up my dinner and dipped a bite of pancake in a small pool of the syrup. Saying it was amazing was comically underselling it. Ambrosia, the nectar of the gods, came closer, but to this day, I can't give an adequate description of what autumn syrup tasted like. It reminded me of how Amortentia took on the favourite scent of the smeller to appeal to them perfectly – it was as if the syrup tasted of every flavour I most loved. I finished my pancakes in short order. I was sated and elated, simply humming with joy at the delight of my autumnal feast. I felt good, great even...for awhile.Still on the sofa, a prickling feeling in my fingers announced itself maybe an hour after my dinner. Instinctively, I brought my thumb to my mouth to suck of any remaining autumn syrup, but the sensation only worsened-- and now my mouth was tingling, too. Unsettled, I took a Benadryl to assuage any possible, mild allergic response I might've been experiencing. I was soon hit with the most common side effect of diphenhydramine: drowsiness. I crawled into bed, weary and sweet, until morning. Today, I topped my breakfast of oatmeal with the other half of the autumn syrup. The dram only held a few teaspoons of the stuff, it seemed. Just as before, my mouth lit up with the taste of the season, unfolding into thousands of flavours that I loved: smoked vanilla, warm nutmeg, a sunny apple orchard, cold, rainy afternoons in October. My whole body tingled from the perfection of this syrup. Thistle, corn mazes, decadent autumn leaves. Rubbing at my mouth, I decided to work from home today. At noon, I took a stroll down the quieter roads in my neighbourhood, leisurely pausing to take photos of lush, fiery foliage. My boots crunched along the lanes that slowly turned from asphalt to dirt and gravel. Eyes in the sky, scanning the canopy for delicious, candy red leaves, I didn't notice the divot in the path before I landed on my face. A small pile of leaves softened the blow. I would have felt grateful had I not felt such a strange twinge in me. Physically, I was fine, not even a twisted ankle. But with my nose in the leaves, I felt a hunger I never experienced. The pile of leaves smelled like autumn syrup, promising a sweetness in its richness, a true bite of autumn. I don't know why I did it. But that leaf, red with pinkened edges and a streak of yellow, was soon inside my mouth. It was crisp and easily softened, bringing to mind the taste of apple crisp and foggy mornings. I ate three leaves before I got a grasp on myself, and pulled myself to my feet to head home. I ate bland foods for the rest of the night, almost in penance. I was out of autumn syrup, and found myself wondering if that wasn't for the best. I was awoken in the middle of the night by a tight twist in my stomach that brought me hurrying to the bathroom. I felt my body heave several times, hearing my sick splash in the toilet water. Stupid, I said to myself, eyes bleary from vomiting. What did I even do earlier? Why would I do that? Of course leaves will make you sick, you're not a cow. Briefly, I considered if it would be better to scoop the leaves out of the bowl to go gentler on the plumbing, or if flushing them would be okay. When I wiped my eyes, I was shocked to only see my plain bread, banana, and applesauce sitting in the bowl. Had the leaves somehow not been why I was sick?My head felt dizzy after being ill, and since it was still the wee hours, I went back to sleep. Getting ready for work, I ran for the bathroom again as I smelled my fresh coffee brewing. I cracked an egg and was brought to my knees. I sighed: I had no sick days, and had to get into work no matter what. Looks like we're skipping breakfast today. As I walked over to my Corolla, I passed over fallen leaves. With each step, their luscious scent wafted to my nose, and I closed my eyes to soak in it. When I opened them again, I was kneeling on my driveway, scooping a small armful of leaves to the crook of my elbow. I was doing this again? I brought my haul into the car and heaped them onto my passenger's seat. I sat down quickly and shut myself in my car, and ate a few more leaves as I drove to work. I couldn't focus all day. I made about three phone calls before I took my first trip back to my little green car, sneaking greedy mouthfuls of leaf. From my car, I called my doctor. I may have been chagrined, but I knew when something was wrong. I googled around, found myself reading about pica. Leaves weren't common, but really any non-food item can become a craving. I went home two hours early, after having taken so many breaks. I tried making dinner again, but found myself nauseated at the thought of the contents of my cabinet. Returning from the obligatory tour of my bathroom, I slumped into the couch for some reflection. Did you know that the browned leaves are actually pretty tasty, full of oak and rum and ginger notes? No, I can't think of that. I need to think of what happened to me. I was fine before I got that strange skin and oral irritation. What had caused it anyway?I froze. I needed to talk to Mary at Hallock Farms. The stand was still open when my Corolla rolled up to the little farm. I saw her long, silver braid and crinkled eyes trained on my arrival. Mary wore a private smile, hawking those damn bottles of autumn syrup. I noticed that the small dram was the only size available – the only size needed, I thought. I walked quickly across the pebbled parking lot to where Mary stood. “Oh, Birdie!” she cried. “So good to see you. Is it time already?” I ignored her and tersely asked, “what have you done to me?”A wry grin wrapped itself around her face for a moment. “Eating leaves, are we?” She glanced at my hand, and I saw for the first time that I was holding a fistful of leaves. I threw them to the ground in disgust. “Birdie, isn't autumn simply the most perfect time of year? The sweet smell of decay and decadence, rich and smooth like syrup. Are you going to tell me it wasn't worth it, Birdie? You tasted heaven.” She cupped my chin, and tapped on my lip. My mouth began to tingle, like it was full of bees and static. I couldn't reply. I was, in fact, speechless, at a loss of how I was experiencing something divine and so horrid, but also my knees were buckling and my lips and throat were burning. “You wouldn't change a thing now, would you, Birdie? That's how the magic works; the syrup doesn't work alone.” Mary cooed. The fire was spreading in my body – I must have ingested some of it because my wrists and ankles were itching like they were infested by bugs. I began to scratch, tearing my skin a raw pink until something began to jut through it. “The spell goes back several generations in my family. We need protection to grow these crops, the herbs and the corn and the like; we need protection for our magic.” Mary circled me. I could hardly move, on my back and alone in front of her farmstand. I felt stuffed, bloated with every drop of autumn syrup I swallowed, every leaf I put down. Through my wrists, I noticed straw and leaves pushing out. My breathing went ragged. I heard a sussurus with each heave of my chest. "You understand it, though. It's why you were so susceptible to the autumn syrup, I know you understand the cycle of life and death and how necessary sacrifice is in between. You are a willing sacrifice to the autumn, Birdie. The spell is impossible without your will.” I shuffled angrily away, my jeans crinkling with straw and leaves. "You're crazy, Mary," I sputtered. "You're wrong." Heaving myself into my car, I bent over with my legs still out of the car, bringing up more foliage. The whisps of air passing in and out of my turgid mouth were what could now be considered my breaths. Mary's figure faded in the distance, making no move to follow me as I peeled away. She always said I'd see her when it was time, and I think I'm fast approaching time. Driving past the scarecrows that lined the Hallock farm, I saw that Mary had moved closer to something: a singular, unmanned post.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dzvx4/autumn_syrup_is_pure_magic/

nosleep

nauticalnausicaa

The Bloodied Curtains

There's a wide, red, irregular stain on the curtains in an upstairs bedroom of a house. Or there used to be. It’s probably still there. I used to walk by on my lunch break everyday and think how much it resembled blood splatter. It was there a long while though - a week, maybe two - and it’s silly to think someone would leave a blood soaked curtain up and where anyone passing by outside could see it. The leaves in Fall are beautiful, don't you think? I miss walking along the narrow sidewalks and inhaling the scent of drying leaves mingled with wood smoke from chimneys. One day, a yellow car sat in the driveway of the house with the "bloody" curtain. A young lady stood on the stoop, and it seemed an introduction was occurring between her and a slightly older couple, the apparent homeowners with the bloody curtain window. I normally don’t stare, but the woman was attractive and energetic. The couple, on the other hand, were the opposite: Pale, exhausted, and grim. It made for an oxymoronic sight. I thought little of it until I passed the side of the house, and I saw the curtain had been removed and replaced with a fresh one. However, I came to the quick conclusion that they wanted to make a good impression on this young woman. Perhaps she was a social worker or potential employer. It didn’t matter because it wasn’t my business, and the sun pierced the grey sky like a divine surgeon and the leaves, of course, the leaves. The next day, I noticed the car remained where the young woman had left it on the street. She must have stayed the night or come earlier than yesterday. Again, not my business until I saw the curtain. My footsteps gave up, it seemed, of their own accord as I stared. They had put back up the bloody curtain. Curious, I attempted to work out mentally why those curtains would disappear and then reappear while I finished my walk. I couldn't. It made no sense. Her yellow car stayed on the street all that week and the next, and then it was gone. The curtain remained until the following day; a fresh one appeared. I couldn't remember the last, clean curtain to say for sure if this was the same one or new. A new car, a grey SUV, was parked on the road. I didn't see the homeowners or who, if anyone, had gone inside. I assumed someone had, however, because of the curtain change. Certainly, the one incident may have had nothing to do with the other. My assumption that the curtain and the young lady with the yellow car were related could be wrong. But if I assumed correctly? My curiosity made me drive by after work. The car was still there. The curtain fresh. What was going to transpire - if anything, if I was right about events being connected, if - had not yet occurred. So I waited. It gets dark early in October, and I was starting to get hungry, and I was tired from work. What the hell was I doing here? I stepped out of the car for a cigarette. That's when I heard muffled laughter and music coming from inside the house. The curtain room flashed as if a light bulb swung back and forth on the ceiling. Then a woman screamed. Then the fresh curtain received a bloody splash from somewhere within that room. Bursts of laughter followed from more than one person. The homeowners? Who else could it be? I listened as I debated on what to do and the lightbulb kept swinging and they were laughing uncontrollably, insanely. Beneath the noise, I thought I heard whispered words. It could have been someone just talking or pleading. I dropped my cigarette and took a few steps toward the house. If it wasn’t 1989, I would have had a cell phone and called the police. But it was, and I couldn’t think of what else to do besides what I ended up doing. I knocked and rang the doorbell just as I heard another peal of laughter as someone shouted, “Please, don’t!” from upstairs. I swear I heard it. That’s why I started ramming my shoulder into the door. That squishy, liquid explosion sound came again, an impact against the bloody curtain. It had to be. What the hell was going on in there? Well, I never found out. It took awhile to break open the door; I’m not a big man. That was my first and last break and enter. I didn’t notice the laughter had ceased, and when I got inside the scene was more bizarre than expected. Two women, the young, attractive one I’d seen before, and a new one, the presumed owner of the grey suv outside, sat on a couch in an identical pose. Their backs were straight and their hands folded over their knees. The woman I’d seen previously was wearing the same clothes she arrived in: jeans and a t-shirt. The other was dressed casually as well. More than a single set of coveralls had been hastily discarded in a corner of the living room. The flash of a television I couldn’t see sporadically illuminated their faces, which were placid and strange in a way I didn’t understand until I got close. Their eyelashes weren’t made of tiny hairs; they were spider legs, striped and slender and moving as if the arachnid body had slipped under their eyelids. Neither woman blinked or seemed bothered by the miniscule tapping of the legs against their naked eyes. The place smelled of cooking meat. “Are you okay?” I whispered. The pallid homeowners stepped into view from where I thought the television was. “What are you doing in our house?” the woman said with only mild concern. I’d just busted through their door, and yet they weren’t in a state of shock or terror or on the verge of defending themselves. Instead they waited. They just waited. “What the hell’s going on in here?” I managed to ask. The gruesome pair exchanged a dreamy look and then smiled wide, revealing teeth so putrid they were green. “You must mean the tomato sauce.” “He saw the tomato sauce on the curtain,” the man said. “We spilled tomato sauce on the curtain,” the woman said too fast. “That… No, you didn’t,” I said. They kept smiling. The women kept staring straight ahead at the flashing light I thought was a television. “It wasn’t tomato sauce,” I said with more conviction. The police didn’t use their siren and snuck up on me. Suddenly, I was thrown to the ground and cuffed. They didn’t say a word as I repeated, “That’s not tomato sauce! Look at the eyes! Look at the eyes! It’s not tomato sauce!” Into the back of a cruiser, face against the cold seat, the car started and drove straight to the jail. “What’s going on?” I struggled to a sitting position and could see through the window. “You’ll be held here until trial,” the driving constable said over his shoulder. “What? Why? I didn’t do anything. What am I being arrested with?” So went my tirade of unanswered questions. I was processed like an inmate, made to turn over my clothing and wallet and keys. They brought me to a cell in the general population of criminals at Millworth Institute. And that’s where I’ve been for thirty-four years, awaiting a trial I’ve long ceased to believe will ever come. I’ve had hellish experiences inside Millworth, and I’m old now and no longer care what they do to me. You can’t kill what’s dead. I wrote down this story and gave it to a friend who said he could get it to you, [AP Cleriot](https://www.youtube.com/@CleriotNoir). Finally, [someone](https://www.reddit.com/u/APCleriot?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share) is looking into the strange experiences and injustices in Bridal Veil Lake. You'll help me, won't you? Me and the others stuck in here and forgotten? I had a visitor the other day. It was the man from that house. He looked the same, worn out and rotten, but unchanged otherwise. He sat at the table and I hesitated to go to him until I remembered there was nothing more to lose. After I sat for a second, he leaned toward me and whispered, "It wasn't tomato sauce." Then he laughed, a horrible, boundless sound full of madness. He stood up to leave and I begged him to stay and tell me why they changed the curtains, tomato sauce or not. Apparently, I could still be hurt by these people. He smiled. "Ask yourself," he said, "what would have happened if we hadn't?" "Why?" I asked. I was no one before Millworth too. "Why me?" He shrugged. "Why not?" No more clarity came from that meeting. I held my head in my hands and could only see his legs and shoes. He was watching me suffer, and that, I feel, was the point all along. They plant suffering and reap our pain like a crop. Oh God, help us. They are here in Bridal Veil Lake. Elston

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17e69fc/the_bloodied_curtains/

nosleep

APCleriot

I work as a safety advisor. This information could save your life.

I can’t feel comfortable continuing to hold this information in secret. My silence will only endanger more lives: lives that could have been saved had they received accurate safety information. Since 2017 I have been working for a governmental institution in the North of England. We carry out essential investigative work, focused on threat analysis and management in the local area. Usually this involves predicting natural phenomena in the near future that could pose a threat to life, and putting out warnings to local residents. Our proud record has saved dozens of lives from floods, landslides, storm gale winds, and abnormal periods of extreme heat. This is rewarding work, but tends towards the repetitive. Identify a threat – Produce an analysis – Warn the public. Something changed last year. Starting in April 2022, we were ordered to investigate a mysterious thread of disappearances linked to a popular coastal resort town. Myself and five other investigators were each assigned a street to watch over and provide weekly reports on, notifying Head Office if anything suspicious arose. The command structure is frustrating, to say the least. The investigators are unknown to each other, and are strictly forbidden from sharing information among themselves. Every case file must remain private until it is handed to Head Office, where it is reviewed and sealed away. I feel no sense of reward. Not once have I ever heard back from Head Office with updates on my case files, and until now I had been working in the dark as to what the overall goal of our investigations was. Assigned at XXXX street, it’s quiet enough work. My station is a small apartment overlooking the road. Not exactly the lap of luxury, but it has enough amenities to avoid getting bored during my long shifts – coffee, notebook, pen and table. The yellowing buzz from the shoddily-installed overhead lights gives me migranes, and I remain unpleased by the patches of mould infesting the ceiling, but at least the place has large windows opening out onto the misty street. The clean air is heaven. XXXX street is a typical English country lane. Small stone walls, covered with dewy moss, line the rough gravel. I wouldn’t call this place rural, but perched on the edge of the town it certainly feels peaceful. In the pitch dark nights I can hear the owls, in the crisp autumn mornings the steady cooings of pigeons. There is something wrong. Sunday evening I handed in my latest report. As usual, it was an uneventful week. The only notable event occurs every Friday afternoon at exactly 14:28. A person, a different person each week, slowly makes their way down the street to the South. They invariably look uncomfortable, as if continuing onwards is a torturous ordeal. One shoe will be removed, and they’ll be dragging the exposed foot along the gravel, limping as they go. Sometimes the dragging motion leaves cuts and bruises on the sides of their feet. Always, they have a terrible blister on their exposed heel. The noise haunts me – scrape, scrape, scrape, scrape, scrape. They never stop walking. I have seen younger people crying from the pain. This evening, after handing in my Case File, our Case Leader had to suddenly leave for a family emergency. In the hurry, she left her own files on the table. Fearing for my job, but frustrated by the opaque command structure and the tediousness of my work, I snatched them away. I apologise to my colleagues, who I may be endangering. This is classified information, and I can’t predict the consequences of making the information public. But I cannot, under any circumstances, allow the public to stay in danger. You need to know this information, for your own safety. I cannot allow anyone else to fall victim. Even now I wonder what will happen to me. What will they do to me? I will begin transcribing the files’ contents. “CLASSIFIED. CLEARANCE NEEDED FOR ACCESS. TITLE: Investigations Surrounding “The Route”, 2022-2023. Oct 2023. Links to Disappearances Near XXXX Town. FILE 1: INVESTIGATOR A, STATIONED AT Z STREET: - Monday, Oct 16th. No suspicious activity. - Tuesday, Oct 17th. No suspicious activity. - Wednesday, Oct 18th. No suspicious activity. - Thursday, Oct 19th. No suspicious activity. - Friday, Oct 20th. Suspicious activity detected. Middle-aged woman, business professional. Began walking down Z Street from the North at approx 14:10. Began to appear agitated and paranoid. Removed left shoe. Continued walking, dragging foot along the ground. Periodically looked around in every direction. Visible blisters on left heel. Turned right onto Y Street at approx 14:15. FILE 2: INVESTIGATOR B, STATIONED AT Y STREET: - Monday, Oct 16th. No suspicious activity. - Tuesday, Oct 17th. No suspicious activity. - Wednesday, Oct 18th. No suspicious activity. - Thursday, Oct 19th. No suspicious activity. - Friday, Oct 20th. I have no idea why this keeps happening. Week on week. I feel sick. Yet again, someone is scraping. Dragging their feet. Blisters. A continuous trek. 14:15. And again, as always, they turned left onto XXXX Street.” Fuck. I see police sirens. They are after me. “FINAL CONCLUSIONS: WEEK BEGINNING OCT 16TH 2023: Continued success. Every Friday afternoon. Beginning on Z Street, follows the exact same route down to V Street. They become paranoid. They remove one shoe. Blisters appear. Investigators feel sick. As suspected. The Route appears magnetic. Invariably, at the end of V Street the subject falls to their knees. They curse The Route. They shout incomprehensible words of guilt. They are afraid of being discovered. They do not want to be found out.” They’re shouting out for me. “Did you really think you could get away with this?” I have to run I can only leave you with my only thought I am consumed by guilt I want to retrace The Route.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17e3zbr/i_work_as_a_safety_advisor_this_information_could/

nosleep

Altrade_Cull

The road to New Wilderness [Part 22]

[\[Part 21\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17d9r1r/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_21/) [\[Part 23\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17et1f3/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_23/) *Ping.* I ducked low in my canoe, as another bullet whizzed past me, and impacted on the side of the old coal barge. Floating around the stern, I paddled toward the opposite side, even as flashes of gunfire cut through the darkness all around. Night had come fast in the fifteen minutes it took me to reach the meeting point, and already the sun had sunk low behind the ridge. Long, eerie shadows crept over the water, and the barge loomed in the dying light, its red and black paint spotted with rust, the bow stuck into the nearby shore. Mold and algae had grown up the lower sides of the hull, and just under the water at the stern, I could glimpse the enormous propellors covered in tangled watergrass. Such a wreck would have driven Matt and Carla crazy had they still been part of my life, but I was too busy listening to every shot that sang into the night to bother with such thoughts. *What they heck are they shooting at? That’s way too many bullets for Jamie or Chris. Did they find some more poor civilians to kidnap?* My little craft pierced the veil of tall weeds along the shore, and I scrambled to get out of sight. Cinching the rolled-up wool blanket to the underside of my backpack, I slung it onto my shoulders, and jumped out onto the weedy bank beside the barge. I couldn’t see anyone yet, but there were shouts and gunshots coming from all directions, and lead slapped the rusted barge in whiny ricochets. With my Type-9 close in hand, I kept my head down, and wove through the prickly foliage, scanning the woods around me for people. *Snap.* I ducked out of instinct, the bullet sailing right past my head. *Snap, Snap.* Two more danced into the dirt beside my feet, and I ran in a haphazard zigzag to the nearest fallen log, heart thudding against my ribs. I could barely see anything with the sun fading away, but it would have been suicide to turn on my headlamp, as that would be a sure-fire way to get shot in the face. Someone screamed in pain nearby, and a cacophony of gunfire roared in reply, flashes sparkling in the trees. Fear snaked through my mind, and I forced myself to breathe slow, hands trembling on my submachine gun. *Get to the pirates. If they’re here, they’ll want their box. Get to them, find Chris and Jamie, and make a run for it.* Sucking in a deep gulp of fresh air, I lunged from behind my cover, and crashed through the underbrush at top speed. Lead ripped apart the leaves around me, some rounds coming close enough that I felt the air move as they passed my skin. Briars stuck through the legs of my pants, and the stale scent nervous sweat floated up from my shirt collar. My mad dash got me to the prow of the barge, and I rounded the corner to slide down behind a massive tree stump. Shouts echoed closer, so I clawed one of the grenades I’d taken off the dead soldier from my pocket, yanked the gritty pin out, and heaved it in the direction of the forest. *Ku-whump.* Crumples of earth rained down, and I poked up head up like a gopher to peer at what lay ahead. Dozens of gray-uniformed soldiers huddled behind trees, stumps, and fallen logs, shooting into the forest with their machine guns. Four armored trucks made up the wall of their crude barricade, one burning with great pillars of black smoke, the others under constant rifle fire. Next to them, the pirates let loose as well, and the *Harper’s Vengeance* sat just on the other side of the stranded barge, its portside cannons belching smoke with deafening shots. Geysers of dirt went up every time the cannons roared, trees falling, and a few brush fires burst to life. I couldn’t see who they were shooting at, but no freaks charged from the trees, and the flashes that responded from inside the forest told me they were human. *Rangers?* Hope swelled in my chest, and I debated what to do. If our people had in fact found us, then it would be smart to run to them, and help overwhelm ELSAR to rescue Jamie and Chris. On the other hand, the pirates could turn and escape out to sea, taking my friends with them. If I betrayed their trust, the others were as good as dead. A flicker of movement caught my eye, and several objects sailed through the air to land amongst the small perimeter of ELSAR troops. “Down!” One of the men screamed, and they all scattered for cover. “Everyone dow—” *Boom-boom-boom.* Several detonations rocked the small clearing, but with less concussive force, and more ashy smoke. Men screamed, and dozens of what sounded like pebbles clattered against the stump I hid behind. Smoke covered everything, blocked all view of the trees, and cast a dingy pall over the shoreline. If I wanted a chance to move unnoticed, this might be the best I could hope for. I rose to dart from behind my cover, and my eyes locked onto an array of red spines imbedded into the stump. They hadn’t been there a few moments earlier, and something about their haphazard pattern told me that they’d come from the fog, like a strange, organic form of shrapnel. Jets of orange and yellow arched into the sky from the dense trees, and I stared in horror at the cloud of fiery pinpricks that rained down. *Run you stupid fool.* My legs came alive, and I sprinted past the coughing soldiers. They lay helter-skelter, with red spines stuck in their skin, their clothes, the flesh swelling angry purple around the objects, a few wounds leaking milky pus as if they’d become infected in a matter of seconds. Pitiful screams wailed from the wounded pirates, and a part of me felt sorry for the children. Bullets flew everywhere, and the uninjured combatants fired into the fog with all their fury, unable to see a thing. I dodged a few shots directed my way, heart threatening to jump from my chest, and crouched next to a large chunk of limestone. *Bawoo-bawoo.* Somewhere in the forest, a strange horn splatted with primitive triumph, and a multitude of human voices roared all around the beach. There were hundreds of them it seemed, and something in my guts twisted with dread. Those weren’t our people. There were too many. Arrows slammed into the soil from the barrage above, their fiery tips lighting dry grass as they went, and flames roiled across the beachhead. The pirates ran for their longboats, the soldiers spread too thin to stop them, and everything descended into absolute bedlam. Burned gunpowder hung on the wind, salty and sour, the horrific cries of the dying enough to curdle my blood, and I could taste soot on my tongue. Unable to make a break through the carnage, I wove around the outer edge behind a clump of trees, and made for what looked to be a quiet section of the battlefield. A figure appeared through the fog, all dressed in gray tactical gear, and before I could hide, he spotted me. His M4 came up, the barrel pointed right at my chest. My training took over, and I jerked the submachine gun to my shoulder in a blind reflex. *Brat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!* The soldier got off a single shot before my fusillade struck him, his bullet clipping a leaf by my right shoulder, and he stumbled backward into a tree. I heard him grunt in pain, and the man collapsed. All at once, a mortified realization seized me, and I stopped dead in my tracks. *I just shot someone.* Both arms trembled like noodles, a little curl of smoke rose in front of my eyes from the muzzle of my gun, and I edged closer in timid, tip-toe steps. He lay with his back to a small sapling, crimson blood spattered on the bark. Round holes marked where the bullets climbed up his right leg, shattered his hip, and stitched their way to his throat across the armored vest he wore. The man looked to be around 30 or so, with a brownish-red curly beard, burly arms, and chocolate-colored eyes. A tattoo peeked from under one of his rolled uniform sleeves, and the words Rangers lead the way made my intestines churn in remorse. His rifle lay by his side, but the hand that still grasped it was a mass of scarlet, another bullet hole near his right elbow. The pale flesh around his neck twitched near the ragged trench dug into the side of it by my last shot, and he pressed his opposite hand to it, both watery eyes fixed on me in shock. The Type-9 weighed heavy in my hands, and I ground my teeth together, steeling myself enough to sight in on his reddened face. This man was our enemy, one of the mercenaries who had killed our people. Because of men like him, Jamie’s brother was dead, and Matta and Carla could be as well. This was *his* fault. Our eyes met, his coated with a veneer of pain, and my finger refused to move on the trigger. *He kinda looks like Dad. Maybe he is a dad? What if he’s got a wife and kid somewhere, counting on him, waiting for him to come home and now . . .* Regret knotted in my chest, and I dropped my gun to paw at the medical pouch on my belt. “I’m sorry!” Crouching down, I ripped open the plastic package for my field bandage, and pressed the soft, white gauze to the hole in the man’s neck. He didn’t fight, merely stared at me in surprise, and something like sympathy crawled over his rugged face. The man tried to say something, his jaw moved, but he could only gasp in muffled groans. “I’m so sorry.” I whimpered, and wracked my brain for a solution, as the blood ran hot between my fingers, too much too fast. Jamie had taught me basic first aid, but what could I do for a bullet to someone’s throat? Turning, I scanned the smoke, and cursed my luck. The battle raged on, shots flying all around us, but we were too far into the brush to be seen. “Medic! Someone help us! Please, we need help over here!” Clammy fingers touched my face, and I whirled in fright to find him watching me. The soldier patted my cheek with a cold, blood-covered hand, and a tiny smile crossed his gray-tinged face. Both brown eyes started to glaze over, and for a moment, he acted as though he recognized me, a few hoarse words choking through the blood. “Kat . . . Kat, what . . . what are you doing . . .” *He’s hallucinating. Oh God, is he going to die? No, he can’t die, I don’t want him to, I didn’t mean to do this.* Guilt rammed into my heart like a runaway train, and I held his hand, felt the warmth leaving it. “It’s okay. Someone’s going to come soon, you’ll see. Just stay with me, alright?” All at once, his eyes went dark in alarm, and the soldier frowned. He twitched, tugged at my shirt front as if to struggle, and gurgled an attempt at words over and over again, but to no avail. “No, it’s okay.” I shook my head so hard the ends of my tangled hair whipped in my face. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. Just stay still, stay still or you’re going to—” But the man’s face contorted into a fierce snarl and he balled his fist up in the cloth of my polo shirt, sending terror through me. Would I have to kill him? I didn’t want to; I wanted a team of medics to magically appear through the fog of war and swoop him up to safety. I wanted to get the chance to explain to him that it was an accident, that I was scared, that I never meant to hurt anyone. I wanted to fix what I’d done. The soldier yanked at my shirt, and the force of his pull made me lose my grip on the bandage over his throat, more red streams spurting out. With all my strength, I did my best to press him against the tree, to keep him still so he wouldn’t hurt himself more. “Stop, I’m trying to—” “*Move!*” A deep grunt burst from his tattered esophagus, and the man seemed to find new strength, hurling me to the side like a paper doll. In the dim twilight, I watched his hand streak for a pistol on his belt, and my eyes screwed shut in anticipation. He was going to shoot me, all because I didn’t have the stomach to do what was necessary. Jamie would have done the right thing and put him out of his misery. Chris would have too. I’d been a weak-willed moron, and now I would die for it, my own weapon lying in the dirt behind me. *Bang, bang, bang.* I cringed, ready for the life to seep out of me. A shrill cry of pain cut through the cacophony of war, and something landed on the ground behind me with a dense *thud*. My eyes flew open, and I rolled over. Not ten yards away, a figure gasped in short breaths of pain, clutching at the front of her plate carrier where the armor caught the rounds. Her helmet had come loose to reveal brown hair like mine balled up in a ponytail, and another M4 lay where she’d dropped it. A green shield-shaped badge rested on one shoulder, and despite the tactical gear, the girl didn’t appear to be much older than myself. She wheezed, and pushed herself up on all fours, a gleaming black combat knife resting amongst the weeds. *Oh.* I looked back at the wounded man, and saw his vacant eyes staring far, far away, his body limp against the tree, the smoking pistol in his hand. “*Fall back! All units, fall back to the trucks! We’re pulling out!*” A panicked voice blasted through the radio on her gear, and the girl stumbled to her feet. We locked eyes, and despite the darkness, I couldn’t help but see the raw hatred there, a visceral rage that seethed like black fire in her gaze. With one hand still pressed to her armor plate, likely over a few cracked ribs, she reached for her rifle. A low rumble broke through the night, dozens upon dozens of feet stampeding closer in the underbrush, and another bullet snapped between us. I lunged for my submachine gun, fear thick in my brain. Cold steel met my palms, but by the time I looked up, nothing stood in front of me save for swirling clouds of smoke. *Bawoo-bawoo.* Through the trees, floating blobs of green light thundered toward me, a huge line of what looked like branches lunging through the vegetation. No, not branches. Antlers. A wall of blurry shapes tore through the tree line and charged into the smoky beachhead, filled with the grunts of animals, and shrill war cries in strange words I didn’t recognize. Flaming arrows ripped apart the air, and the firelight reflected on overlapping plates of iron. Soldiers and pirates fell as the shadows caught up to them, and the sound of gunfire began to be replaced by the bone-chilling echo of metal-on-metal. I ran as fast as I could toward the water, but the shapes were faster, and flooded by, in a sea of vibration and noise. The *Harper’s Vengeance* wheeled around to sail for the safety of deep water, more fleeing longboats trailing in its wake. A few of the armored trucks revved their motors and drove off with the rest of the soldiers, leaving two wrecks in flames. Shadows took over the field, too many of them between me, and the water. Too many to get past. I’d lost my chance, and now, the murky things were everywhere, cheering like banshees in the gloom. *What are they, what are they, what are—* *Boom.* A stray cannon shot landed a few yards away, the shell explosion throwing me to the ground. My ears trilled with incessant whines, and the air rained dirt over my face. The world grew muffled for a few moments, and it seemed as though a giant hand pressed me to the ground. Coughing, I curled into a ball to avoid being trampled. I no longer thought of Chris, Jamie, or even the dead soldier who had saved my life. The primal switch in my brain reactivated, and once again, I searched desperately for an escape route as more figures galloped past. “Unus est!” One of the shadows spotted me, and the glowing green antlers trotted closer, another foreign voice calling to its brethren in words I couldn’t understand. The subconscious weight lifted, and I struggled to find my weapon in the morass of weeds and canvas straps that entangled me. *If I can get back to my canoe, I can follow the ship.* Stubby iron sights rose into my field of vision, but a sudden jerk tore the gun from my hands, and an arrow clattered to my feet. “Aspice hunc, Herculem putat.” A gruff voice chuckled from somewhere behind me, and others laughed as well, as if whatever had been said was amusing. Scuttling backward on all fours, I yanked the knife from my war belt, and swallowed my fear. This was it then. It was my turn to bleed, my turn to die. Five of the shadows circled me, and as they did, they came close enough I could start to make out details. Riveted plates of metal clinked against one another, leather flaps holding them in place. Glowing like jade stars, the antlers led to a head with the boney protrusion on the front of the skull layered in steel plates. Hooves denoted a deer, but these deer seemed larger, stronger, and more fleshed-out than the glowing ones we’d seen around New Wilderness, easily as tall as a draft horse. They snorted, pawed at the ground, and the taut muscles in their limbs beneath the armor rippled with desire to run. Astride each stag’s back, brown leather saddles held upright figures, with black rifles in their hands, all pointed at me. Painted sheets of iron scales covered every inch of their bodies, shaded green, brown, and gray to match the forest. At their sides hung curved bows with quivers full of arrows, and conical helmets topped with tufts of brown fur adorned their heads. Their faces bore rigid masks shaped with eerie similarity to Puppet smiles, the eye slits painted an off-white, the breath holes overlaid with a mural of a wooden smile. Long swords dangled by their opposite hips, not curved like the pirates’ but straight, with cross-shaped hilts. Round shields bounced on their backs, knee-high boots on their feet, not a sneaker or T-shirt anywhere to be seen. It would have all fit much better in some Renaissance festival somewhere, if not for the automatic rifles that rested in their hands, or the assorted handguns and spare magazines in pouches on their belts. Flexing my fingers on my knife, I dug my teeth into my lower lip, and squared up like Jamie had taught me in the boxing ring, as one of the riders dismounted across the circle from where I stood. The armored figure slung its M4 over one shoulder, and drew the broadsword from its belt, a man’s tone echoing through the layers of steel. “The knife. Drop it. *Now*.” *I’m not going to make this easy for you.* “Leave me alone.” I snarled back with the most aggressive voice I could muster and tried to decide how to stab at my metal-clad assailant. *Whack.* Sharp pain flared in the back of my head, as something hard hit me from behind. I fell to my knees, but kept hold of my knife, not about to die helpless and pleading. “Hoc unum contumax est. Cave, Aleph.” A female voice spoke from one of the onlookers, and she hefted the butt of her rifle that she’d just used to smack me in the head. A long steel blade swung at my face, and I dove to avoid it, heart racing. I was completely outmatched here. Boxing had been my worst skill set thus far, all I had was a stubby knife, and nothing in the way of armor. I couldn’t escape the circle, not with all those guns trained on me. One lucky strike, and my opponent would open me up like a Christmas goose. *Come on Hannah, you can’t die now. If you can’t get away from him, try to get close. Maybe you can stab him in the eye or something.* I tried a feint with my right, which held the knife, but the man didn’t fall for it. His blade flashed toward my mid-section again, and I barely slid out of the path of it, lashing out in desperation. My blade clanked harmlessly off his shoulder armor without so much as leaving a dent. *Slam.* Pain ripped through my temple, as an armored elbow connected to the side of my head, and stars appeared before my eyes. Both feet buckled, and I went down onto all fours, groaning in pain. *Man, that hurt.* “Jam satis.” Another male voice barked from the onlookers, and this seemed to stay my attacker’s hand. “Hoc unum absolutum est. Pater Adam nullam crudelitatem dixit.” More feet stumped over to me, and the knife was jerked from my grasp. Just as fast as it had begun, my resistance was quashed, and I found myself a humiliated prisoner once more. They unbuckled my chest rig, along with my war belt, and one of them scooped up my Type-9 with curious hands. Rope tightened over my wrists, and a dark bag was drawn over my head. They rummaged through my pockets with hurried, rough fingers, and one of them cut the straps of my backpack to pull it from my shoulders. “No!” I thrashed against their strong hands, panicked tears in my eyes that they couldn’t see. “That’s mine, give it back! Please, I need it, give it back, please!” But the strangers didn’t reply, and instead hoisted me up until I felt fur and a bony spine under my legs, more rope tying me upright. High-pitched war cries echoed through the night, the gunfire began to slacken, and the rattle of hoofbeats swelled into a horde. The world lurched in a bumpy gait underneath me as my captors rode off into the dense trees, taking me further and further from Chris, Jamie, and my only route home.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17e0txn/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_22/

nosleep

RandomAppalachian468

I share earbuds with a friend. When I got one back, I don't think I'll ever share them again.

**WARNING: Bugs, Blood, Bodily Substances** On my first day of school, I met this friend. We'll call her Jenny. Jenny and I met while walking the track in gym class. We made small talk about how cold it was outside, and why they didn't let us do anything inside as an alternative. We then found out we had the same lunch period, and decided to meet up in front of the school's auditorium, then go into the cafeteria. When I saw her I gave a wide grin and yelled. "Hey, over here!" "Oh hey! Navigating this school is sooooo annoying." "I know right? It's pretty big. Let's go in." Once we got a seat in the cafeteria, we started to talk about our classes, teachers, all of that. From that, she noticed my phone case. It has a photo-card of a K-POP idol on it. She noticed. "OH MY GOD!!" She screamed. "YOU LISTEN TO THEM?" "YEAH!!" I responded. We then started to talk about music. We both listen to a bunch of different stuff. I listen mainly to K-POP and heavy rock. From what I gathered from Jenny's rambling, she listens to indie pop and K-POP. When I say indie pop, it's the 2020 TikTok music. I get chills just thinking about it. It's a little bit of a red flag in my book, but I just brushed it off my shoulders. Once lunch ended, we parted our separate ways to our next classes. The next day, I saw her again in the gym. We walked the track and bonded even further. Talking about movies, TV shows, video games, blah blah blah. I also have to establish that I have wireless earbuds. They were cheap and good enough to my liking and I use them everyday. One day, she saw me take the case out of my backpack. I opened it and put the left earbud in. "Mind if I listen?" “Go right ahead, here.” I offered her my right earbud. I then played my daily playlist for her. She was rocking her head up and down as I played some rock music, System of a Down if you're interested, and I think she enjoyed it. As the song ended, a more upbeat K-POP song came on in the shuffle. It was “Russian Roulette” by Red Velvet. She kept bobbing her head to it. “You know what the song is about right?” “Uhm, yeah! Sure, of course..” She said hesitantly. Obviously she didn't, but that was okay. It isn't everyday where you meet someone who knows every meaning to everything, right? Before the bell was going to ring, she gave me back the earbud. When I got it back, I held in the gasp I had almost let out.. ***It had a clump of earwax in it.*** “Okay, uhm that's gross..” I thought. But I just chuckled awkwardly, then the bell rang. “Okay see you tomorrow..” I mumbled. I kept staring at the earbud. *“What the hell?”* I thought. I just wiped it off with my white t-shirt and put it back in its case. When I left school that day, I kept thinking about it. It was such a pretty big clump too.. It was just really fucking gross. Everyday since then, she kept asking for an earbud. And since I didn't have many friends, and I didn't want to lose her, I didn't say no. Jenny started asking for it during gym when we played volleyball, during lunch, and during every class we had together. Every time I walked into the door of a class I had with her, she would silently appear out of nowhere and yank the strap of my backpack to the point where I almost fell back. “Can I have one?” She’d ask. I gave it to her, then entered the room. Every time she gave it back to me, there was always a clump of ear crust in it. Jenny needed to start cleaning her ears. I tried to bring it up to her, but she just changed the subject every time. One day, Jenny was a little *off*. She asked me for an earbud, as per usual, I gave it to her. But I accidentally gave her the right earbud. I usually have that one, but today I was stuck with the left. I played my usual playlist and let it go for around 10 minutes. Around the 11 minute mark, there was some weird interference in the music. It only somehow happened for me, Jenny wasn't affected by it by the looks of it. I then felt something moving around. Sometimes, my hair gets stuck behind my earbud and it doesn't bother me as much so I just left it as it was. It then just kept annoying me. Moving around felt kind of like crawling. It wasn't my hair. ***Something was in my ear.*** “Uhm, I need to go to the bathroom really quickly.” I ran to the bathroom before Jenny had the chance to answer. Once in there, I took it out of my ear. **It was a maggot.** ***A maggot was in my goddamn ear.*** It was attached to the earbud. I flicked it off. I almost threw up. **“What the** ***fuck*** **was that?”** **“*****Why*** **was it** ***in*** **my ear?”** **“*****How*** **did it get** ***in*** **my ear?”** All of these questions just kept running through my brain. It was crawling around in the sink. I smushed it with a towel and a red substance splat out of it. My first thought, *blood*. I’m pretty sure it was. I got another towel and I wet it under the sink, while also washing away the maggot. I cleaned off the earbud, along with the rubber part that made it fit into my ear. Once I was sure that it was clean, I put it back into the case and never put it in again that day. I got back to the table, but Jenny was gone. All of her stuff was gone from her seat. I have no clue where she went, if she had a meeting, if she sat with someone else, I don't know where she went. Luckily, I had class with her later that day. Once I got to that class, she wasn't in her seat. Did she go home early? Was she skipping? Who knows. Jenny was a good student, but I still wasn't sure where she went. The next day she finally showed up. I saw her in the gym’s locker room. I said hello but she didn't say a word to me. All she did was give me my earbud back. It was, once again, covered in ear crust. It was a larger clump this time around, larger than usual. Gross to think about, I know, but I got past the point where I was on the brink of puking. I didn’t use that earbud the rest of the day. When I got home, I decided it was time for me to deep-clean them. 9:28 I got some alcohol wipes from the closet and a couple of q-tips from the cabinet and went into the bathroom. 9:32 I took off the rubber covering of the left earbud and was met with clumps of yellow and brown. I wiped them off carefully with the q-tip. 9:38 I took off the covering of the right earbud. I was met with the same fate. Clumps of yellow and green this time. There was also what looked like a leg of a small bug. *Gross*.. 9:43 I looked at both of the earbuds. They still had some debris on them. I took the alcohol wipe and wiped down the left earbud. Then the right earbud. 9:49 I looked at my work, then noticed something. Something was inside of the left earbud. The one Emily mainly used. What's the deal with this girl? 9:53 It took me a while to muster up the courage to look inside of the earbud. I had to very carefully take off the grid part of the earbud to keep outside substances out. Like water and earwax. Obviously, it isn't doing its job correctly. 9:55 I got some needle-nose tweezers from the cabinet. 9:56 I finally took off the grid of mesh-like fabric to peer into the earbud. ***I was right.*** 9:57 A bug I had never seen before proceeded to crawl out of the left earbud. It had too many legs to count, along with way too many eyes for its body. Its body was rather small, almost the size of a large ant. Y’know, one of those flying ones. It had two small wings, I bet they couldn't even lift that bug off the ground. It was covered in what looked like blood, it was *definitely* blood. 10:00 Another bug crawled out of the earbud. These weren't very big earbuds, but I was still backed up against the bathroom wall, scared for my life. My heart was going so fast, I literally thought it would burst out of my chest and crawl away too. Into the sink. 10:05 I was scared to check the other earbud. But I did. I took off the grid covering of the right earbud. Several minutes passed. 10:23 Five bugs in total came out of the left earbud, and four came out of the right. *“What the fuck?”* I thought. I left the earbuds in the bathroom for me to deal with the next morning before I left for school. I then went to bed. 10:52. I woke up the next morning, not wanting to get up. I made my way to the bathroom. I saw the earbuds on the counter. I looked at them in disgust. I looked at myself. I looked as pale as a ghost. My eye-bags were darker than the day before, but it wasn't my biggest worry at the moment. I got ready then left for school. Jenny was waiting for me in front of the school gate. “Hey Jen.” I said tiredly. “Heyyyyy! You alright? You look like you just crawled out of bed.” She emphasized on *"crawled,"* with weird hand movements that weren't her own. I gave a meek smile. Before we went in, I paused. Time almost seemed to stop entirely. Jenny had her hair up that day. When she dragged a loose piece of her hair behind her ear, I could see dried skin fall onto her dark brown hair. White flakes of her pale skin. I then saw a centipede, **a fucking centipede,** crawl out of her ear, into and around her hair, and then back into her ear. I am still haunted to this day. I stopped speaking to her. I moved seats in all of our classes and stopped being on her team in gym. It's rude, I know, but I *had* to do it. I saw her on the city bus one day. Seven months had passed. She staring at me with her deep cold brown eyes. I then saw a cockroach crawl across Jenny’s face. She didn't flinch a muscle. It crawled out of her ear, across her eyes, up her nose and out the other nostril, then into her mouth. *She smiled.* It was crawling around her crooked yellow teeth. I knew that she liked bugs. I never thought that she liked them *this* much..

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dwr44/i_share_earbuds_with_a_friend_when_i_got_one_back/

nosleep

mxpsyche

The stalker.

As autumn descended upon the quiet suburban neighborhood, a sense of unease began to creep into my life. It all started with a simple phone call, a heavy-breathing voice that sent shivers down my spine. I dismissed it as a prank and thought no more of it, but the sinister whispers of a stalker would soon turn my world into a living nightmare. The first sign of trouble came when I noticed someone lurking in the shadows near my home. A tall figure, draped in a long, dark coat, watching my every move. I couldn't make out their face, but the feeling of being watched was suffocating. I reported it to the police, but there was little they could do without more evidence. Days turned into weeks, and my stalker's tactics became increasingly insidious. I'd find eerie messages scrawled on my front door in red paint, "I see you," they would read. My phone would ring at all hours, the same heavy breathing haunting my every conversation. Panic set in, and I began to doubt my own sanity. In an attempt to catch the stalker, I installed security cameras around my house. One night, as I reviewed the footage, I witnessed the figure standing at my window, their face obscured by a grotesque mask. My heart raced, and I called the police once more. They assured me they were doing everything they could, but the stalker remained elusive. The nights grew darker, and I couldn't sleep without the constant dread of being watched. I decided to stay with a friend for a while, hoping to escape the relentless torment. However, the stalker was relentless, finding me even at my friend's house. It was as if they knew my every move, my every thought. One evening, as I returned to my empty home, I discovered a chilling tableau. The stalker had broken in, arranging disturbing, life-sized dolls in grotesque poses throughout my living room. The masked figure waited for me, sitting in a chair, a gloved hand beckoning me closer. I fled once more, desperate to escape this never-ending nightmare. I started to investigate on my own, convinced that the police were unable to protect me. I delved into old records, searching for clues about anyone who might hold a grudge against me. My search led me to an unsolved case from my past, a person I had inadvertently wronged. It was a long-forgotten mistake that had now come back to haunt me. The stalker's intentions became clearer, their obsession rooted in a twisted sense of revenge. They wanted me to suffer, to feel the same terror that I had caused them. In a desperate attempt to end the nightmare, I reached out to the person I had wronged and begged for forgiveness, hoping it would appease the relentless tormentor. To my surprise, the stalker's hold on my life slowly began to loosen. The heavy breathing calls ceased, the lurking figure disappeared, and the grotesque messages on my door ceased. It seemed that by acknowledging my past mistake, I had broken the stalker's twisted cycle of vengeance. The horror had left scars that would never fully heal, but as I watched the last traces of the stalker's presence fade away, I was left with a haunting realization: the true terror was not in the shadowy figure, but in the darkness that resides within all of us, waiting to be unleashed by the right trigger.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17e1x34/the_stalker/

nosleep

SPARTANuHD

My brother likes to hunt

I (F23) grew up with a lot of siblings. Our mother was a cruel woman who would often mistreat and exploit us all. A rarity among us was sharing a father. This was something my brother (M24) and I had in common. That and we actually knew our father who wanted nothing to do with us. Our mother was a high class call girl that used her children for financial gain. Most of the Dad's paid her hush money or child support. My father was a rare breed I guess he showed no interest until we were older and even then he'd take us to a house he owned outside of town. There we'd exercise and work out non stop as well as practice survivalist training. My brother excelled I on the other hand was a failure and no matter how hard I tried I just couldn't keep up with my brother he was simply as my father would say a superior being. Even as he progressed in school he continued to excel. In time he became obsessed with testing himself finding new challenges and this brought him to his one true love hunting. He mastered conventional methods rather quickly becoming a firearms expert in almost no time. Well I called him that not sure if he could be considered an expert but his skills were quite remarkable. So much so that they terrified me. He'd hunt animals of all kinds obsessively. Sometimes he'd ghost the family and be gone for weeks. One time he dragged a dead wolf into the house and mom screamed. I could not tell if it was rage or terror but blood came out of both nostrils. I tried to at least fake being interested and would often fall asleep listening to him recount each hunt. He and father grew closer and eventually he moved in with him I regrettably was left behind for being weak. I was wrecked by this I had lost my protector and my closest friend. The two of us were quite codependent so losing him for me was akin to losing a limb. We shared literally everything to the point where were considered creepy by our peers. My stepfather assaulted me soon after he left not long after that I was thrown out on to the streets and had to do what I needed to do to survive. While I was on the street learned I was pregnant and could only pray that my stepdad was the father which shows just how fucked up my childhood was. I didn't see my brother again until last year and he's done well for himself. At first things were nice and we danced around the issue of my daughter not really talking about it. He told me he still hunted but it was hard now to find prey worth his time. He assured me if it were up to him, we'd have never been separated. When he left the room to attend to some business, I looked at his trophies from animal heads, skins, to even bones. It was when I saw his fireplace, I got a chill down my spine. I saw jewelry, a watch, and other trinkets that seemed eerily familiar I took my phone out and went through my news feed. After finding a few articles regarding some disappearances I felt absolute dread. Each article was about a missing person from athletes to ex-military. The kind of people my brother would find a challenge. What sealed the case for me was that in a few of the photos the missing people had some of the same objects that my brother had displayed in his trophy room. When he came back, he asked why I looked so startled, and I made up a fake excuse. We continued to talk, and I told him how hard it was to find a real job. I told him about how I was fired once for standing up to a guy that grabbed my ass. The manager was a jerk to me told me I was a nobody and that I should know my place. He told me that was absurd that the two of us were the peak of what it means to be human. He told me he respected me as his only equal which surprised me. Then he told me that most would die if they went through half of what the two of us have had to endure. He told me he could only hope to find a woman close to my "strength" we parted on good terms but still I think about what I saw in his trophy room. I sometimes wonder if he began hunting the most dangerous game.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dw4yo/my_brother_likes_to_hunt/

nosleep

Exotic-Sexy-Bitch

I Bought A Masquerade Mask To Sneak Into A Halloween Ball. Nobody Recognized Me, But Everyone Recognized The Mask.

“Trying to pick something out for All Hallow’s, are we?” the old man asked in his gruff though oddly mellifluous voice. *Orville’s Old-Fashioned Oddity Outlet* was infamous throughout the city of Sombermorey and Harrowick County beyond. Everything he sold came with a story, and every story was complete and utter bunkum. Most people thought that his shop was just a tourist trap to capitalize on our area’s plethora of urban legends, and that it was only the runoff business from the much more popular *Eve’s Eden of Esoterica* across the street that kept him afloat. But for those willing to entertain the notion that an elderly snake oil salesman in a pastel suit and straw fedora might in fact be a legitimate purveyor of the preternatural, Orville’s little shop was worth hitting up. I had ventured in there in the hopes of finding something that might gain me admittance to an upscale Halloween party that I was most definitely not invited to, and a wall filled with gorgeous masquerade masks had stolen my attention. “Ah, yeah. I’m trying to put together a Halloween costume,” I said to the old man. “These are beautiful. What can you tell me about them?” “Tell me, Miss; have you ever heard tell of the Masked City of *Incognauta*?” Orville replied, his voice dropping melodramatically as if he was trusting me with some coveted secret. “Somewhere out amidst the planes, in the void between worlds, there’s a void that’s a world unto itself; a sovereign city-state that follows no laws but its own, and that includes the laws of physics. It’s a city of Eternal Masquerade, where the citizens are forbidden to remove their masks for any reason, under punishment of exile. Some say it’s because the Incognauti slowly became their masks over time, either unintentionally or to save themselves from the growing madness of their home. Either way, their identities and souls now live entirely within their masks, their bodies reduced to mere hosts. These are the masks of exiled or fallen Incognauti, ripped willingly or not from their bearers, leaving the masks silent and the bodies screaming and jabbering in incoherent madness. What became of those bodies, I don’t know and don’t care to ask, but the masks have been lovingly safeguarded, passed from buyer to buyer and wearer to wearer, wandering down many different paths before all winding up at my shop. Should you choose to don one, the ancient and arcane knowledge held within will begin to trickle into your mind, but so will the identity held by the mask. You won’t lose yourself to it all at once; it will be far more insidious. It will take over so gradually that you won’t even realize it’s happening. Go incognito long enough, and you will become *Incognauti*.” “I see,” I said with an amused smirk. “Ignoring the fact that you just blatantly ripped that story off of the SCP Wiki, you’re saying that if I were to try on one of these masks and feel absolutely nothing, that would merely be the insidiousness of the curse and not evidence to the mundanity of the masks?” “Won’t matter to me then, honey; you wear it, you bought it,” Orville chuckled. “If you don’t mind my prying, what’s got you in the market for such a high-end Halloweeney mask, anywho?” “I… I was hoping to get into Seneca Chamberlin’s Halloween Party,” I admitted with some hesitation. “He hasn’t had a party this big in years, either because of COVID or some personal issues he was having. Since there will be so many people there, I was hoping that if I just looked the part, I might be able to sneak in unnoticed. I’m not going to steal anything or hurt anyone or blow anything up; I just want to crash the party. Pendragon Manor is the stuff of legends. I’d love to see it from the inside, especially on Halloween.” “Crash Seneca’s big Halloween bash? Yeah, I can get behind that,” Orville chuckled. “None of these masks will do the trick for you, though. Not if I know Seneca’s security; which, incidentally, I do. They need to attend some sort of sensitivity training about the appropriate manner to deal with the ornery elderly.” He fetched a keyring from his desk and used it to unlock a drawer directly beneath the mask display. He slowly pulled it open, revealing a silver mask sitting on a velvet pillow. It had been constructed of tightly meshed wires, woven into mesmerizing fractal patterns. Though the wires were slightly less dense around the eyes, the mask was completely lacking in any facial features whatsoever. “This, young lady, is one hundred percent Seelie Silver; made for an Incognate Marchioness,” he said as he held it up, glimmering like a spider’s web in the early morning light. “You may have heard that the Seelie have a bit of a knack for names and the like. This mask hides not only your face, but the name that goes with it. Wear this to Seneca’s shindig, and I guarantee you’ll get in.” He pushed it towards me, and I gingerly accepted it. I turned it over in my hands, running my fingers along its cool silver filaments, gazing in awe at the ethereal designs they formed. The mask certainly seemed, if not otherworldly, then at least extraordinary. It was inconceivable to me that it was merely some sweatshop-produced chrome costume that he was trying to pawn off on me. Okay, maybe not ‘inconceivable’, but a remote possibility nevertheless. “So now Fairies made these masks?” I asked incredulously. “No, just that one. Pay attention. You think mortal craftsmanship would ever be good enough for a Marchioness?” he asked. “Uh-huh. And of course, ‘I wear it, I buy it’, so I can’t just try it on to see if it actually does what you say it will,” I sighed, shoving it back towards him. “I might as well buy a can of magic beans.” “Now hold on. Hold on. Maybe we can work out an arrangement,” he said, refusing to accept the mask. “You said you only wanted it for Seneca’s Halloween Party, right? Well, what if in exchange for a small security deposit – just enough to cover the deductible on my insurance in case you don’t bring it back – I’ll let you use this mask for Halloween and bring it back the next day? If it does the trick, then perhaps you’ll be interested in buying it for keeps. If not, then you get your security deposit back. Potential big scores for both of us at minimal risk. What could possibly go wrong?” I paused, pulling the mask back as I considered the offer. Magic or not, it was absolutely stunning, and probably my only hope of getting into the party. “Just a small safety deposit?” I asked. “I’ll even throw in those magic beans to sweeten the deal,” he said, his wide grin revealing fillings made with the same Seelie Silver as the mask. \*\*\* “A thousand-dollar safety deposit for a Halloween mask. I must be out of my mind,” I murmured to myself as I drove up the winding terrace that encircled Pendragon Hill. It wasn’t really that outrageous of a sum, considering how much I had spent on my hair, gown, jewelry (which included a tiara), and shoes. All told, I’d spent an awful lot of money on a party I wasn’t even invited to. The only traditional expense I had forgone was makeup, since if the mask worked as advertised, I wouldn’t be able to take it off. As I approached the top of the hill, I could hear the faint sound of live music, and I saw the fancy cars lined up at the titanium gates as a stout little valet checked to make sure they were on the list. I quickly grabbed my mask and fastened it to my head. It didn’t really impair my vision that much, but it certainly wasn’t anything I had wanted to wear while driving up a hill where one wrong turn would mean disaster. As I pulled up to the valet, he glared down at me and my vehicle with palpable contempt. “Are you on the list?” he asked impatiently, looking like he was just waiting for an official reason to call security. “I don’t need to be on the list, Woodbead,” I replied with an indignance that took me off guard; and I hadn’t the slightest idea where the name Woodbead had come from. To my surprise – and relief – a look of sudden regret washed across the valet’s face. “Yes, of course. My apologies. I didn’t recognize you in your marvellous new vessel,” he said. “Welcome to Pendragon Manor. Please enjoy the party.” “Thank you,” I said, smiling mischievously beneath my mask as I pulled into the motor court. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure if the mask had actually worked or if I just happened to resemble and sound like someone the valet knew, and at that point I honestly didn’t care. I was in. I felt like I was in a fairy tale as I hoisted up the skirts of my gown to ascend the tapering staircase into Chamberlin’s mansion, passing through the front foyer with nary a glance and straight into the majestic ballroom. The floor was covered in mosaics of gleaming marble tiles, lit by crystal chandeliers hanging from a ceiling embellished with Renaissance-style frescos. Guests in elegant evening wear and masquerade masks danced to classical music from a small chamber orchestra performing on a stage at the opposite end of the ballroom. Portraits and statues lined the walls, an opened skylight revealed the starry firmament above, and the floor-to-ceiling arch windows afforded a whimsical view of the aviary outside. As starstruck as I was by the venue, I still managed to spot Chamberlin mingling with the other guests almost immediately. He was easily recognizable despite his golden Oni mask; tall and slender in a three-piece crimson suit and top hat. I saw him cock his head slightly when he noted my presence, excusing himself from his other guests to come say hello. It had originally been my plan to avoid him as much as possible, but as he approached, I was inexplicably free of any fear that he was coming to confront me for attending his party uninvited. “Come to hold me to my standing invitation, I see?” he asked wryly. “I would have come sooner if I had had any legs to stand on,” I replied, before I even knew what I was saying. “Is Crowley here? I’d love to say hello.” “Lamentably, he was unable to attend this evening. Something came up in Adderwood that he needed to see to,” he said, as if I had the slightest idea of what he was talking about. “Oh really? What about that Noir woman I’ve heard about? Is she there as well?” I asked, uttering yet another name that meant nothing to me. “It was her idea, as far as I can tell,” he shrugged. “So then there’s no one over your head here tonight?” I asked. “No one who might object if you took an old friend down to the old tunnels beneath your wine cellar?” “And here I had hoped that you'd simply come to take advantage of my hospitality,” Chamberlin laughed. “But if you’re looking to make a discreet exit from Sombermorey, I believe I can arrange that. *After* the party, however. I’m not about to abandon all my guests when they’ve been so looking forward to seeing me again. I suggest enjoying yourself until then. If not for you, then for your ‘chauffeur’. It’s the least you could do for making her bring you all this way.” I laughed, though I didn’t know why, and Seneca left to attend to his other guests. For the next few hours, I mingled with my fellow revellers. A few of them I knew by reputation, but most of Chamberlin’s friends fell under the category of reclusive, eccentric millionaires, and I had never seen or heard of any of them. None of them ever suspected that I didn’t belong there, in no small part because I always seemed to know exactly what to say. Unfamiliar words and foreign names dropped from my mouth quite regularly, their meaning known only to their recipients. It became increasingly hard to deny that it wasn’t me who was speaking, but the mask that was speaking through me. While this admittedly made me uneasy, it wasn’t enough to make me want to take the mask off. After all, hadn’t this been exactly what I had wanted it for? It gave me the identity I needed to get into the party, and of course that identity had come with some baggage of its own. It wasn’t actually controlling me or taking over me, I thought. Throughout the night I had been able to take sips of cocktails or bites of hors d’oeuvres Mandalorian style, lifting up the mask just enough to slip something into my mouth, and I felt no resistance from the mask when I did this. I remained convinced that I remained in full control of my actions and could take the mask off anytime I wanted. It wasn’t until the hour neared midnight that something went amiss. The sound of a struggle drew my and everyone else’s attention towards the door to the foyer, revealing an unwelcome latecomer. He was tall, spindly, and shabbily dressed in a faded and tattered orange suit. His jack-o-lantern eye mask was clearly a cheap mass-market costume piece, marking him as painfully out of place amongst such a high-couture crowd. We all would have been wondering why they had even let him in, were it not for the several security guards who were frantically trying to pull him back. Despite his slight frame, the man seemed to possess an inordinate strength and continued his advance through the ballroom with very little difficulty. “Where is it? Where is it?” he shouted in a raspy, nearly inhuman-sounding voice. “The old man said it would be here!” One of the security guards tasered him, and he didn’t even flinch. He just batted the weapon away with a casual backhand, craning his long neck across the sea of masks, as if trying to find one in particular. And then he stopped when his gaze fell upon me. Effortlessly tossing off the security guards who had barely even managed to slow him down in the first place, he burst into a sprint as he dashed towards me. I started running too, of course; but instead of running outside as I logically should have, I ran into the kitchen. Despite having never been in that room before, I went straight for a door that ended up leading down into a wine cellar. It occurred to me that maybe I was there to hide or use the wine bottles as weapons, but I didn’t stop. I kept right on running towards a cask of Amontillado at the back. Before I could reach it, I felt long and slender fingers grabbing me by the back of my gown and hoisting me into the air. “Well, don’t you look radiant this evening?” the jack-o-lantern-masked man asked mockingly as he spun me around and dangled me in front of him. His teeth were stained nearly the same colour as his suit, his stubble thick and uneven upon his rectangular jaw, and his jaundiced eyes protruded so far from their sockets I was sure they were about to fall out. I struggled and kicked, but his grip was like iron and his sunken chest was like granite. “Thought you could escape our collection by running off through the Cuniculi? You’d only have wasted both of our time. There’s nowhere you can go in all the Worlds that I won’t be able to find you!” He grabbed the mask and pulled it from my face as hard as he could. It didn’t want to go, and I was afraid he’d tear the skin off my face before he’d get the mask off. With every inch he pulled it out, I felt something inside me, something inside my head, being pulled out with it. I screamed in agony when he finally ripped the mask from my face, barely even noticing that he had dropped me to the ground. He held the mask high above him in triumph, gloatingly staring straight into its faceless visage. He tossed aside the cask of Amontillado with his free hand, revealing a hidden iron door. He easily tore it open and descended down a dark flight of stairs just as the security guards caught up with us. A couple of them chased after him, but two more remained in the room, and I realized that they were flanking Seneca. I looked up to see him gazing down at me with the same sort of disdain one might show for a mouldy piece of fruit that was no longer of any use to anyone. “Get this interloper off my property,” he ordered with a sad shake of his head. \*\*\* “You miserable old bastard!” I cursed at Orville the next morning. “You knew what that mask was!” “Of course I did! I told you what it was! What are we yelling for!” he shouted back. “You knew it wanted to use me to get away from here, and you knew someone else was after it!” I cried. “Lady, look at the front door. What does it say?” he asked. “It says *Caveat Emptor*. It means buyer beware, and it applies to everything I sell here.” “I didn’t buy it, I just put a safety deposit down on it!” I shouted. “I only wanted it for one night, and it probably would have used me until I dropped dead! And then you told that crazy jack-o-lantern-face guy where I was! I could have been killed!” “Hey, he said ‘the old man’ said you’d be there. You can’t prove he was talking about me. There are lots of old men he could have been talking about,” Orville insisted, but then let out an uneasy sigh. “Look, I’m sorry. What do you want from me?” “I want my safety deposit back!” I told him. “Absolutely out of the question! No return, no deposit! Them’s the bricks!” he shouted. “You made that agreement without ever expecting to see me again, and I wouldn’t have lost the mask if you hadn’t ratted me out to the jack-o-lantern guy! That’s maleficence, and it voids our agreement!” I said. “Maleficence! Maleficence! Of all the dirty-rotten, underhanded things I’ve been accused of over the years, no one’s ever accused me of maleficence!” he claimed. “I admit to no wrongdoing, and since returning your deposit would now be a tacit admission of guilt, I ain’t giving it back! However, in the interest of de-escalation, I’d be willing to let you take a thousand bucks worth of clearance merchandise out of here. Before taxes. And fees. And service charges.” “The only things you have on clearance are more of those magic beans, and the jar you gave me was expired!” I shouted. “Not expired; past their best before date!” Orville corrected me. “You can still use them, they just, well… let’s just say I’d recommend planting them rather than eating them. Better they be coming up through your backyard than out your back door, if you [catch](https://www.reddit.com/r/Odd_directions/) [my](https://www.reddit.com/r/TheVespersBell/) [meaning](https://www.reddit.com/r/TheCrypticCompendium/).”

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dghfl/i_bought_a_masquerade_mask_to_sneak_into_a/

nosleep

A_Vespertine

The Silver Tune [Part 4]

[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/173ekw8/the\_silver\_tune\_part\_1/) [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/178mggb/the\_silver\_tune\_part\_2/) [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17deqtl/the_silver_tune_part_3/) We went up to our hotel room afterwards and packed up just as dinner started. We ate a little at the hotel, but after the continued looks we got, we went to David early. He pulled up the limo right away and our luggage was packed in. Grant wasn't there, as he had apparently gone ahead of us to ready the house. That was fine by me. May was relieved too. Carol was worried about me, I could tell. She was supporting me as much as she could, but she needed answers. Deserved them. I wish that I could have mustered the courage to give them to her earlier. I could only imagine what I would do were the positions switched. Oh? You're having nightmares that leak into reality? Seeing weird stuff? Don't worry honey, I'm just going to call some nice men in white coats. They'll take care of you. Yeah right. Still, I had to tell her something, and soon. My mother's mansion is on the outskirts of the city in some woods. It used to be very far from everything, but now it was just a bit of a drive. While May was distracted with her Nintendo Switch on the other side of the limo, Carol leaned close. “Are you okay? You looked like you weren't quite with us at the hotel.” Carol whispered. “I've been trying to figure that out myself.” I said. This was her kind way of trying to broach the subject. Okay. I'll tell her. “Are you okay right now?” Carol said. I smiled. “Yeah, I think so. It's just stressful. Do you remember that dream May told us about? The one with the man in red? The one we had on the plane too, and the one I had before that even,” I said. Carol nodded. “Well, you're going to think I'm crazy.” “What do you mean? You're already crazy.” Carol said. I gave her a gentle shove. “Okay. I'll try my best to tell you. Here goes. Remember how my nightmare is always of that same hallway? That hallway is actually a place in my mother's house.” “Megan– I'm sorry. We don't have to go back to your mother's house yet if it's hard for you to be there.” Carol said. “It's okay. We should go back. Face your fears and all that right? Anyway, something I didn't say about my dream on the plane is that it changed that time. Instead of ending when I reached the black door, the black door opened. There was a horrible monster inside. It played that song from the clock on a music box.” “I'm so sorry. You've been through a lot.” Carol said. “It's okay. Remember when you asked about that guy in a suit? I've been seeing that figure on and off, catching him out of the corner of my eye everywhere. It's always someone dressed in red. So when I went to see mother last night, there was this man just like May talked about. Red suit, pale. He was standing at my mother's bedside. That's why I was so upset when she asked about a man in red. I thought it was– it had to have been a hallucination or something, but after May saw him too? What does it mean?” “Is this where the hotel came in?” Carol asked. “Yeah. I talked to the front desk, and everyone just disappeared suddenly. The hotel hallway turned into my nightmare hall. This red suit man told me to free the monster in the door, and it would leave us alone. Both times, the plane and the hotel, I think it was May that saved me somehow.” I shrunk into myself, waiting for Carol to call me insane, demand David turn around and bring us to the hospital. Carol watched me for a moment before speaking. “Okay, that all does sound a little crazy– but just a little, and… I believe you. You wouldn't lie.” She said. “Carol, I'm starting to get scared.” Carol seemed at a loss. I could always come to her with a problem. She could always see it with a level head, but now she seemed unsure. “Well, I'm just glad you're okay,” She said. “We'll figure out this monster thing together. All right?” “All right.” “Something tells me that you're feeling done talking about it. Let's just focus on getting settled in.” We sat back and enjoyed the ride as much as we could. Carol even had another glass of wine. I took one too. We eventually rode in silence. The drive was long, took us later into the evening. Carol had apparently worn herself out and was napping. We all had a long day. My glass of wine from earlier had just turned into a headache. I was watching the light of the last streetlamps roll through the interior when May scooted over to me. I felt her tug on my sleeve as she clicked in her new seatbelt. I was jolted from my half daze. “Megan?” “Hey, yeah? What's up, sis?” She was cradling her robot nervously. It took her a moment to gain the courage to speak. “I didn't say everything back at the hotel. What do I do if I keep hearing the music? It's like the song the clock makes at home.” “Music?” I asked as my heart sank. “Yeah, that one song.” She hummed it. “Right,” I interrupted. “That one. When are you hearing it?” “Whenever the suited man is near. Sometimes when Grant is near. There's something different about him.” “I've noticed too. Maybe I should talk to David about it.” “You've been seeing the suited man too, right Megan?” “Yeah, May. I have. I don't really know what's going on here, but I think you saved me from him at the hotel. Thank you.” “Of course, I'll always save you,” May said. “But Megan, what do we do?” I pulled the card from my pocket. Myles West, it read with the phone number below. “What's that?” May asked. “Someone who can help us with the suited man,” *I hope.* “I just have to call them.” I stared at the card for a moment then put it away. I rubbed my eyes. I was so tired. “I'll call them when we get to mom's.” I said. “It's probably for the best. We're all too tired.” May said. “You've got that right, sis. How was the pool?” She smiled. “So much fun. Thank you for letting us go.” “You're welcome, May.” It only took a while longer for my mom's property to finally come into view. May eventually fell asleep against my shoulder. I couldn't sleep despite my tiredness. I just watched the trees as they passed, then my mother's house came into view. It was a mansion in every traditional sense. Like everything else my mother liked, it was accented in gold, and straight out of Victorian times. *‘It goes back to our English roots’*, she always said. The house had one central tower that all of the other towers formed around. The central tower had a window of tinted glass depicting a flowery scene of nature. It had a large porch and brick canopy that hung over the driveway. If I remember right, it was *seventeen thousand* square feet or something crazy like that. Three floors and a basement added later, fifteen rooms and an excess of gaudy interior design. The front yard was at least two acres of carefully kept gardens. The backyard was essentially an outdoor ballroom. Fountains, flowers, brick roads, and even a little church that was probably used for Christian practices back in the day. David rolled down the dividing window. “Everyone still asleep back there?” He said. “Just two out of three.” I saw his smile in the rearview. “Grant called ahead and said that the bedrooms are ready for you. Will you be taking your mother's room? Grant suggested it.” I shivered at the thought. There was an odd sort of feeling telling me not to. I wasn't quite sure why I had that reaction, but I listened. “No, I think one of the others will be fine. Maybe the one across from my old room? Then May can have that one.” David nodded. The limo coasted along the driveway until we made it to the front of the house. The building loomed over us, the towers’ windows acting as judging eyes. I woke everyone up. Three other employees of my mother came from inside to take our luggage, directed by Grant. I sent May and Carol inside to follow Grant to their rooms. David handed me another master key for the house. I made the decision right there. I wanted to tell him. “David, can I talk to you for a second?” I asked. “Of course, Megan. Is everything all right?” We paused as Grant passed us with May and Carol. “That, right there. Something is different with Grant. You've seen it too, right?” David looked uncomfortable and nodded. “It started about a week before you flew out here,” He said. “Odd hours, odd manners and so on. I thought nothing of it until recently. He even talks differently somehow.” “Do you remember when you came by this morning to get me from the hotel? When my mother wanted to see me? Was I acting odd?” David thought for a moment. “You greeted Grant when I entered even though he wasn't there. I thought that it was a joke.” He said. My stomach knotted up at that. “I really did see him there, David. May saw something too. She said something like a ‘shadow over Davie's shoulder’.” He didn't seem too surprised. “There have been odd circumstances around your mother's illness. Megan, do you know what's going on here?” David said. “There is something odd going on, David.” I gave him a brief rundown of what had been happening. He looked more and more perturbed at my descriptions. “Okay. I believe you,” That was a bit of a relief. I had always been able to trust David. He continued. “Do you think that Grant has something to do with all of this then? He's worked for your mother for so long, I don't see why he would do anything adverse.” “Right, I agree. Can you just help me keep an eye on him? Until we know for sure?” “Of course, Megan. I'm sorry that all of this has been happening to you. If something strange might happen here at the house, should we dismiss all but Grant and I?” “Yeah. Have them take a paid vacation.” I said. “I'll see to it. I hope you sleep well.” “Thanks. You too.” The two of us walked inside. I was greeted by the grand entryway. A center staircase led up to the second and third floor. A dangerously large chandelier hung on the ceiling far above us, held by an old fashioned pulley on the wall. Not much had changed here in five years. There was a great portrait too, hanging on the first landing. I think it was my triple great grandparents and their children. All of their painted faces had heavy scowls. I was uncomfortable here. I went off to bed right away, trying not to think about where I was. I walked up the stairs, past countless decorations, paintings, and potted plants in seasonal perfection. I thought of the hallway on the third floor. The hallway that was the center of my recent nightmares. It was only one floor up. Maybe if I saw that it was just a hallway, the door at the end just some storage closet, I'd be able to exist here. *Not tonight though. Confronting my demons is a tomorrow thing.* I thought. The rooms were just like I remembered them. The one Carol and I would be in, despite being one of the ‘smaller’ rooms, was bigger than some of the studio apartments I'd stayed in. Every inch of furniture and wall was inlaid with filigree. Our luggage had been packed into the rooms. Carol was unpacking inside, and looked up as I entered. “Hey, Megan.” “Hey.” “How long do you think we'll have to stay here? I'm not sure if I have enough clothes for more than a few days.” Carol said. “I don't think that I can entertain my mom for too long. If something comes up before then, you and May can just go back alone. I can do some of my work on my laptop here.” “They don't have internet here though, right?” “Well, I have my phone hotspot. It should be able to handle it.” I said. “Sounds good. We'll figure it out,” Carol jumped onto the mattress. “Ooh, this is cozy. It's like quicksand in this thing.” “I wouldn't be surprised if they're all brand new.” I said. Carol reached over the edge and pulled out a remote. “No way, look, it's one of these adjustable things. Even has that binaural vibration or whatever.” I heard a low hum as it turned on and Carol closed her eyes. I shook my head, got into pajamas, and laid next to her. Despite the comfort, I couldn't help but feel uneasy. Was there someone in that corner? No, it was just a shadowed coat rack. What was that thing staring at me on the dresser? Oh wow, okay it's a porcelain doll. That's actually creepy. I frowned and cozied up to Carol. “I told David about everything. He's going to help us keep an eye out,” Carol nodded. “Do you think you'll be okay to sleep tonight?” She said. “With a remote controlled mattress? How could I not?” Carol chuckled and we sat there for a while. You can probably guess, but I couldn't sleep. I glanced at my day clothes, the pocket of which contained the phone number for Myles. My brain just kept pointing to it, telling me to get up and call. *If you'll actually let me sleep, I will.* I thought. I got up and went out into the hall. It was creepy as shit at night, but I didn't want to wake Carol. It took me a moment to dial the number, but soon the phone rang and rang in my ear. I heard a click under the static before it finally picked up. Neither of us said anything for a moment. “How did you get this number?” A gravelly voice said. “Um, yeah– hi? I'm Megan, or actually legally known as Magdalene Audlin,” I bit my lip. “We need your help. You're Myles?” “Margaret Audlin is your mother.” He said. “Yeah.” “She was hospitalized. Is she dead?” “No, but she's really sick with something odd.” I said. The voice cursed. “I warned her, but she wouldn't listen to me. She was never good at that. I'm guessing my associate found you? Told you to call?” “Who? No, my mother gave me this number when she was briefly… herself earlier.” “Fine. Tell me what's happened.” I relayed my experience for the third time. At least I can say it was getting easier. I went over the nightmares, the music box, the hallway, hallucinations, the hospital that night. “She wants us to watch her house. We're here now–” “Wait, you went back already? And this hallway is in the house you're staying in?” Myles interrupted. “Yeah, is that a problem?” “Could be the biggest problem of your life. Whatever you do, do *not* go up there, got it? I'd have preferred if we met up first, but it's too late now. You can't leave until this is settled.” I heard another voice in the background, feminine. “And who's fault is that?” They said. Myles didn't reply. I continued. “My sister has been having the same nightmares I've been having. Now a man in a red suit showed up. May calls it the ‘suited man’. I don't really understand what–” “Stop,” The voice interrupted again. “A humanoid in a red suit?” “Yeah. He keeps showing up. He keeps telling us to release the monster behind the door.” “The music box from the museum.” He mumbled. “It's from a museum?” I said. “Yes. It's something she got at a private auction. A museum that never opened. It shut down and sold its holdings to the upper class. Tell me more about the music.” “Okay, well, it's something I remember a lot. We had a grandfather clock that played it, and now this music box plays it too. My sister has been hearing the music lately, source-less.” I waited, but Myles said nothing. “Okay, with all due respect, sir, I've been giving plenty here,” I said. “If you knew my mother somehow, can you give up some details? Who are you? How did you know my mother?” He sighed. “It's not safe over the phone. Some of these monsters can use the phones. You've said enough. I'll meet with you. If you're having nightmares and you're already home, then it's already begun. My associate will come ahead of me tomorrow, and look, now's the time to gather the people you trust. Make sure anyone who could be affected by this is either out of the way or in the know. Got it?” “Fine.” “Fine.” He returned. There was a click as he hung up. I pulled my phone away from my face and took a glance at it. “Okay then.” I muttered. I headed back to our room. Carol was sitting up. “Hey babe. Nightmares?” She said, stretching. “No, I called that Myles guy I told you about. The number my mom gave me? I couldn't stop thinking about it. He's going to come by and help us with all of this. He knows about our situation. There might be some real monsters here.” Carol tried to hide her fear. “When will he get here?” “I don't know. He said his associate will come ahead of him tomorrow.” I said. “All right, well, come try and get some sleep then.” I nodded and walked over. Eventually, I knew I was asleep when it felt like the world was floating. I don't know how long it took. The dream I had that night? Well, I had one all right. I should have known what it meant. I wished I had. Whatever was in the house was waking up. *“Awake…”* *“They're here, they're home.”* *“The song, the song!”* These voices whispered throughout my sleep. Have you ever had a dream where the space around felt infinitely vast, yet contained to where you slept? I know, it doesn't make any sense to say it aloud, but it's how I felt. It was like I could sense the house as a living thing, and it could sense me. Dark and shifting shadows danced. The voices whispered to each other, and I heard them passing word ear to ear. Something here had been waiting for us. Something here was waking up. *“The sweetling has come? Come closer, little bird. Where are you?”* My eyes opened and I glanced at my phone. That's where that last voice had come from, I was sure of it. I checked the lock screen. No notifications at all. It was still dark when I awoke. Not pitch black, but just before sunrise. Had I really slept that long? Despite my confusion, it was nice to get some sleep. It wasn't quite enough but it was a start. I had maybe two hours before May or Carol woke up, so I got dressed and wandered the house. I stayed away from the third floor, but familiarized myself with the rest. I remembered it all. Some places fondly, some not so much. As I walked down the second floor halls, I soon realized that I was close to my mother's room. I didn't like being this close for some reason, but I gathered the courage to glance towards it. Her room was up a small staircase that was still on the second floor. She even had her own private hallway with it. My mother's door laid ahead. Ornate wood carved with intricate designs. It seemed sinister somehow. It felt like some kind of force was urging me back. “Screw it, I'm tired of being scared.” I muttered. I walked up and frowned when I pulled the handle. It was locked. Even when I tried the keys, it wouldn't budge. “So much for the ‘master’ key.” I mumbled. A wonderful smell wafted through the halls, distracting me. I knew it right away. It was a fresh breakfast. It summoned me down to the first floor kitchen as surely as a siren song. David and Grant were always quite the duel chefs. The kitchen was pristine, white, and beautifully decorated. It was one of the few places my mother had left for David and Grant to decorate. Several types of plants were placed about, copper pans and utensils hung, and colored glass let the sunrise inside. There was also a dining table here with eight chairs. “Morning, David.” I said as I walked in. He nearly jumped out of his apron. “My, you got me good, Megan. How are you this morning?” He said. “I'm all right actually. I managed to get some sleep last night.” “Good, I'm glad to hear it. I thought that we'd do May's favorite this morning, ‘fancy breakfast’.” “Thanks, she'll love it for sure. Where's Grant? He always used to help you in the kitchen.” “I'm not sure where he went honestly, but I have something to tell you there,” He glanced around as I stepped up. “Last night I found him at your mother's bedroom door, staring at it all off like. I asked him what he was doing and he simply turned, gave some excuse and left. I didn't like the look in his eye. I thought you should know.” “I tried the master key on my mother's room just now. It wouldn't open.” David checked the oven. “That is odd. Perhaps we should investigate that later today? That reminds me, he has had this odd obsession with the room since your mother was hospitalized. He has made sure that he was the one that kept it up.” “Megan? Mister Davie?” I looked towards the entrance. “Oh, hey May,” I said. “Why are you up so early?” She raised an eyebrow. “I know, I know. I'm up and all, but you usually sleep more than I do.” I said. “Bad dream. About upstairs.” She said. “Good morning Miss May. Grab a chair, grab a chair. I have a fancy breakfast for you.” That brought a bright smile to May's face. David brought us silver platters filled with amazing food. For me, freshly peeled and crispy hash browns, a six ounce New York strip, two over easy eggs, and a colorful garden salad. May's favorite was two buttermilk waffles with orange blossom honey, crispy bacon, and scrambled eggs, plus an apple juice. Carol joined us soon after, and was stunned into reverence. “Can I have a fancy floof?” May asked. David smiled and gently lowered two curled orange slices and fanned spinach. “Yay! Fancy breakfast!” May said. “Jesus, you have a family crest pressed into the waffles?” Carol said. “Just a little joke of Grant's and mine.” David said. Needless to say, we all dug in, David too. It was incredible, simply said. I don't miss anything else about this life, but I'll admit that David's cooking will forever hold a place in my heart. “Thank you so much.” I said with a mouthful. “Of course. If this is a good time for breakfast, I'll keep starting it when I did. Lunch at noon, and dinner at five. Sound fair?” David said. “Sounds good to me.” I said. There was an echoing, overdramatic chime down the hall. I rolled my eyes. “Is that the doorbell?” Carol chuckled. “Yep. I'll get it.” I said. “Can I help keep the garden?” May said to David as I left. “There are some leaves to rake out front. We could make a pile to jump in. We'll have to do it before it rains.” David said. His voice trailed off as I went down the hall. When I got to the door, I found Grant there. He was opening the door when I arrived. “Hey, are you one of the Audlins? It's me, Lenny.” The person at the door said to Grant. It was that guy with the southern drawl, carrying a suitcase. I stepped up. “Thanks, I have it from here, Grant.” I said. Grant released the door with an odd look on his face. “Miss! Good to see you again.” Lenny said. “Did you follow us here from the hotel? Are you really that desperate for a front page?” “No, I wouldn't dream of it. I think we got off on the wrong foot earlier–” I began to close the door and he stopped it. “Wait, all right? Okay. I was sent here by a mutual friend of ours? Myles West?” I studied him for a moment. “Do you mind if I check? Give him a call?” I pulled out my phone. “He's not going to pick up,” Lenny said. “He changes his number every time someone calls, even once, but yeah go ahead.” Sure enough, I got that message. ‘*We're sorry, the number you've dialed is either unavailable or is no longer connected. Please hang up and try again.*’ “No offense, but how can I trust you then? You want me to just let you in?” “That would be lovely. Whatever's cooking smells fantastic,” He said. “But sure, Myles is on his way, but he won't be here until tomorrow. He told me about the nightmares, the music box, your mother's condition, and the other odd things. There. That do it for you?” “All right. Fine, come in,” I said. “Grant, could you… Grant?” I looked around. Grant was gone. “Where'd that other feller go?” Lenny said. When I said nothing, Lenny continued. “Anyway, so you really are Magdalene Audlin?” “Megan.” I said. Lenny gawked at the lobby. “Oh, sorry. Myles said you were a rich family, but holy hell. I had no clue. I had a friend that worked at a museum– Oh sorry. I guess I shouldn't swear in front of a lady.” “Trust me, swearing is the last fucking thing you should worry about. Is this why you asked after us in the hotel?” “It was on Myles’ instructions. We've been hunting for something for a while. Your ‘suited man’. You've seen him right?” “Yes. Who are ‘we’? Are you part of a group or something?” I said. “Sort of. We're not exactly formal enough to have company tracksuits and golf trips but sure, you could say that.” “And what does all this have to do with us? Why is this thing haunting us or whatever?” Lenny glanced down towards the kitchen. “Look, I'd love to get into it all right now, but really, would– would it be all right if I had some breakfast? I haven't eaten since we met at the hotel. They didn't appreciate the food I stole.” He said. I sighed. “Fine, but you're going to explain. Got it?” He held up his hands defensively. “I promise.” We walked into the kitchen. Carol and David glanced at Lenny. May was gone. “Could you fix him a plate before you go outside, David? He's a guest that can help with our… predicament.” I said. “Sure, Megan.” David said. “Hey isn't this the guy that was creeping on you at the pool?” Carol said. Lenny looked like he might run when Carol got up. “He was, but he was actually genuine. It's fine. He's a friend of Myles. Remember that phone call I told you about? This is the associate.” “Right.” Carol said and sat. Lenny walked past Carol like a puppy past a cat, and sat down as David set him a plate. “Thanks, I really do appreciate it.” Lenny said. Carol walked me into the hall. “So this is the associate, huh?” She said. “Yep, seems like it. He started rattling off about Myles before I even said anything.” “I'll keep an eye on him for good measure. How was your sleep?” Carol said. “Not too bad actually. I managed to get more than I have in a little while. I had an odd dream though.” “The hallway?” Carol said. “No, this time it was kind of strange. It was sort of about the whole house. I thought I heard something from my phone. That's what woke me up earlier.” “Huh, well let me know if anything else happens.” “Ah, that was a fine meal. Thank you kindly, chef.” Lenny said in the kitchen. “Holy shit, he was hungry. That was like five minutes.” I said. Lenny walked out into the hallway as David did. “Lenny, this is Carol and David.” “Pleasure to meet you,” He shook their hands. “Sorry if you thought I was being creepy at the pool. With everything going on, Myles and I didn't want to wait to find you.” “Hello, sir. I hope that you really can help us.” David said. “Howdy to meet– I mean, nice to meet you, sir.” Carol said. “That's a good one,” Lenny said with a fragile smile. “So anyway, which room is mine?” “Excuse me?” I said. “If Myles and I are going to help you solve your little problem, we'll need to stay here. Who knows when shit could go down– oh, sorry, pardon my language.” Carol stepped up. “Okay, Texas. You want to help us? You need to stay here? Fine, but I want you to know that my girl has been through Hell, so if there's even a second you give me not to trust you, I'll throw you to the curb from the third floor. Capisce?” Lenny swallowed. “All right. All right. Look I know things must have you on edge, and we got off on the wrong foot and all. I'm sorry if I was brash.” “No, I'm sorry, you're right. We're being a little intense.” I said. “It's not a problem. You're more sane about this than anyone I've seen. Truth is, I've dealt with these monsters before. One actually killed my friend John.” “You've seen these things before? Do they always look like flesh monsters dumped from Cthulhu's asshole?” I said. “Sure, that's an interesting way of putting it. Seen a few before actually. Seen what they can do to someone too. Each one's unique but there's usually long limbs involved, a face with no eyes, patchwork skin, whatever. Crawls at you like something that'd make Satan shit his loincloth.” “That's like what I saw in my nightmare on the plane.” I said. “You saw Satan's loincloth?” Carol chuckled, then saw our expressions. She paused. “Okay, sorry. I'm just trying to imagine that these monsters are actually… real? Humor is my coping mechanism.” Lenny glanced at David. “It's okay, he knows.” I said. “Right. My friend, John,” Lenny began with a nod. “We were on the police force together. We made a big arrest, it was actually Myles we arrested believe it or not. That's kinda how this started. John was going to retire, but the company Myles worked for offered him a job instead. So he took it, and worked at a museum as a night guard. Job was shady as all hell. I tried to talk him out of it at one point. Think I did too, he just wanted to give it one last night to think it over. All it took was that one night. One of these things was in the museum. That thing killed him and others working there, and it… it took over John's body.” Lenny said. “Took over his body? Why?” I said. David was disturbed, trying to put something together in his head. “Who knows with these monsters.” Lenny said. “Something like this would make the news for certain wouldn't it?” Carol said, genuine fear on her face. If she was afraid, this was real. “That's where *they* come in. The people that started it all.” Lenny said. “Who?” I said. “That's just it. Not even Myles or I know their real names. They run all their OPS through some nameless company. Oh sure they're legally filed under certain things, but all of their companies are a funnel for one secret project. Most assholes that work for 'em just call 'em, ‘Headquarters’. They're real careful about who knows what. They started it all with this dig in a cave in Italy to document ruins or something, and that somehow released these things into the world.” “If they're so careful, how do you know about it?” Carol asked. “I don't know,” Lenny said. “Maybe they're sloppy, maybe they want us to know what we do.” Carol and I exchanged a glance. “Yep,” Lenny continued. “You two have the same look on your faces as John did when I told him, but I promise you, it's all real.” “I don't even know what to say. I don't want to believe you, but after my dreams?” I trailed off. “You've seen 'em. You can't help but believe. Can you tell me more about those nightmares? It might give us a clue where your ‘suited man’ is hiding.” Lenny said. “Okay. I dream about a hallway. It's one on the third floor of this house. The door at the end of this hall is the only one down the whole thing, and it's black. It has a golden plate shaped like a moon. One of those things is inside, playing a music box. It's been asking me to release it.” “Everyone needs to stay away from that hallway,” Lenny said. “Even if that's the focus, it could be somewhere else in the house though. As long as we stay away, we should be safe until Myles gets here.” Lenny said. “*Should* be?” Carol said. “I can't really promise. How these things work is still unknown in some ways. We've never heard of one being bound to a music box before, but Myles said capturing this particular one is important. It's some kind of leader to them.” “How are you going to help us?” I said. “I know a few things but Myles is the real expert here. I'll do my best to keep you safe until he arrives though, just stay away from the third floor,” Lenny said. “We'll figure it out. Just keep everyone accounted for and we'll be fine. So, where am I staying?” “Right.” I said. We led him to a room in the same hall as ours, just a few doors down. He seemed quite pleased and impressed. “I'll just get settled in if you don't mind. It'll just be a little while. Oh and here's my number in case anyone needs to reach me.” “Thanks. We'll see you around I guess. Lunch at noon, dinner's at five.” I said. “I'll be outside raking leaves.” David said. We nodded. “Sure thing, and thanks for breakfast too. My friend Jonny would have loved it. Though he would have had to take the onions out.” He said, and closed the door. Carol and I went towards our own room. We sat inside for a while. “So, what's today's plan?” Carol said. “I'm not sure. Maybe I'll walk you around the house a little?” “Minus the third floor.” Carol said. “Minus the third floor,” I agreed. “May and I have a lot of stories for you I'm sure. Speaking of May, did she go help David with the leaves?” “I think so.” Carol said. “Okay, I can still give you a tour then. Want to wait for me in the lobby? I'll catch up, I've just got to find my jacket.” I said. Carol nodded and left the room. I looked through my suitcase, but couldn't find my jacket. The night we had packed everything was pretty chaotic. It might have gotten lost or put in someone else's stuff. I check Carol's stuff, nothing. I shrugged and went to find Carol. It wasn't too chilly anyway. As I left and went down the hallway, I looked out of the windows. I could see that David had begun raking autumn leaves in the central garden. I smiled. That sight alone brought back a lot of memories. Too many memories really. My smile fell. I looked around the yard. Where was May? I didn't see her anywhere. I frowned and pulled out my phone. No messages or anything. I knocked on May's door. “May? How are you doing?” No answer. I opened the door a crack. “May? Are you in here?” Nothing. I opened it the rest of the way. My old room was exactly how I had left it. My mom had even left my pink Barbie duvet on the bed. Besides May's tornado of clothes pulled from her suitcase, it was all the same. I walked in. Her jacket was still on the bed. I checked the bathroom, the bedroom, and the walk-in closet. May was nowhere to be seen. I texted her, waited, and got no response. I was getting worried. I called her, but all I heard was, ‘***You have reached the voicemail of–** Um May Audlin, superhero extraordinary*’. I hung up and went down the hall. I leaned over the railing overlooking the foyer. “Hey Carol, have you seen May?” I said, voice echoing. She looked up. “Isn't she outside?” I shook my head. “I don't see her. I called, texted, checked her room, nothing.” “I'll go ask David. Don't worry, we'll find her. This place is big enough to lose sight.” Carol said with a smile. That helped a little. “May?” I called as I walked the second floor. I checked each bedroom, bathroom, observatory, interior garden, kitchen, and even a ‘drawing room’. She was nowhere to be seen. “Where would she go?” I muttered. My mind raced over a mental map of the house. “Maybe mom's room? Could have wanted to sneak in there while mom's gone.” I was headed that way anyway. I figured I'd just pass it and see that it was closed. Oddly though, the door *was* partly open. I walked over quietly. I glanced into my mother's room. The master bedroom. Bed bigger than a pool, and a single room bigger than our town home. Eloquent, well dressed, and dark. From what I could see, everything looked to be in shambles. Pots knocked over, paintings askew, furniture toppled. “May?” The name echoed for a moment, then silence fell. The quiet closed around me like darkness on a dying candle. I felt it wrapping around every corner here, peeking out from every half seen room I had already checked. I had intruded on something. I could feel it. A dark pressure like nothing I've felt before. My blood froze when I heard it. It was louder than anything I'd ever heard before, yet barely audible at the same time. I heard something *drip* from above my mother's bed. It was a dark, viscous liquid. Another drop fell in rhythm. I looked up. Something rested in the shadows of the ceiling where the drops were coming from. I don't know how I hadn't heard it before, but it was wheezing. It was whispering one line in a voice almost human. *“Mors Infra, Mors Infra–”* It stopped suddenly with an animal snort. Something like a head flashed upright to stare at me. There was a glint of something that might have been eyes. Thin strands of hair draped over its face. I wanted to move. I wanted to scream and run, but I couldn't. I just stared at that thing and squeezed the doorknob to my mother's room. My hand shook, as I and that thing stared at each other. My phone emitted a sound from my pocket. It carried a strange residue as the speaker said, *“Are you a sweetling? Here all alone, just for me? Hungry. Starving.”* The thing sniffed the air and crept across the ceiling towards me. *Run, run you idiot!* I yelled in my head, but I couldn't move. The closer it came to the hall, the less shadowed it was. I saw that the thing really did have eyes, but there was a strange film over them. That dark liquid dripped from its mouth. The thing dropped to the floor with a heavy *thump*. It had to have been at least seven feet tall, but it grew taller. Its head stretched up like a fleshy periscope. A long smile of sharp teeth grew and grew as it focused on me. My phone echoed again. *“Ah, it is the sweetling. Too long. Eternity. I'm hungry…”* *Finale next week...*

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17e65cv/the_silver_tune_part_4/

nosleep

WhisperWoodsStories

a fog descended on my hometown, I think the world is changing

I don’t have much time left, even now, as I sit here typing this, my hand is placed over my stomach. I can feel something changing, something deep inside of me, twisting and whirring inside, waiting to be let out. You may not believe me, Hell, you’ll probably think of this as a joke, but it will become apparent very soon that this message is a very true one and is of what is to come. Incident 1: I woke up to my alarm. My room had a hazy feel and was darker than normal. When I looked out the window, all I saw was white, as if snow had covered the glass. Groaning, I sat up, glancing towards my sister in our shared room. But something wasn’t right, from a crack in the window a string of fog led to her head as she muttered in her sleep. I shook her awake. “Wake up!” I cried and as she did, the smoke disappeared. “I’m up Andy,” she groaned, her emerald eyes glowing in the dim light, and her curly blond hair in a tangled mess. “Common Rosie, we’ll be late for school,” I said. Mom and dad were sitting at the table, eggs and toast already prepared and waiting for the two of us. They looked forlorn, as if contemplating something. “Is. everything. alright?” Rosie said, holding onto each word. My mom was staring out the window, her eyes wide. Was she afraid? “There’s a thick fog,” my dad explained, “your mom thinks that maybe you should stay home today-” Me and Rosie’s faces light up with joy. “Let’s go!” We both screamed, giving one another a high five. My dad shook his head, “Personally, I don’t think it’s a big deal. Scared of a little fog. They shouldn’t miss school over-” “They can’t go outside!” my mom said as if the idea of it was ridiculous, her eyes never left the window. I followed her gaze, trying to peer through the fog, but something wasn’t right. The fog was shifting in an unnatural way, coursing as if it were a living being, desperately searching for a way in. “Okay, okay,” dad relented, “I guess we’ll all stay inside today.” Mom let out an exasperated sigh, her shoulders slumped, finally relaxing, but only a little. We all sat around the table eating, me and Rosie already making plans on how to fill the day. We’d game, I said, and draw said Rosie, and annoy mom I whispered, but mom’s eyes never left the window. “Maybe,” Rosie said, leaning in, her eyes full of mischief, “we could even take a look outside-” “You will do no such thing!” my mom yelled, her temper surprising the both of us, “I swear if you open that door it’ll be the end of both of you!” “Yes ma’am,” Rosie said, ignoring the threat as she sneaked a wink at me. Our day was filled with fun, running around the house, fighting one another, playing with each other, and annoying our parents. “What a perfect day,” Rosie said with an exasperated sigh as if we’d spent the whole day working. “Maybe this fog is a blessing,” I said with a chuckle, but my mom did not agree. Her long dark hair slumped over her head as she continued to stare out the window. “What’s wrong with mom?” Rosie asked quietly. “Dunno, maybe she saw something outside?” “Something?” “I heard that fog like this can mean there’s a monster nearby,” I whispered. “No way! You’re just trying to scare me” Rosie punched my arm. “Then let's take a look.” I suggested and we both went to our room, so our mom wouldn’t see what we were up to, and stared out the window. A thick fog covered the glass, making it impossible to see anything outside. “I can’t see anything,” Rosie complained and took her eyes off the window, already bored. But just as I stared to pry my eyes, for a split second a part of the fog began to take shape. My eyes squinted trying to be sure of what I saw. Part of the fog began to form into a giant eye with a huge grin beneath it. I jumped back from the window, crying out in surprise, but when I looked back the figure was already gone. Incident 2: I woke up that night to the sound of Rosie’s voice, but there was another sound. “Rosie?” I whispered unsure. My eyes slowly opened, taking in the darkness. But the room wasn’t dark, it had a faint glow coming from the fog through the window. “Strange,” I muttered, my mind still half asleep. There was something just outside the window. Slowly, I got up, my feet hitting the cold floor. It was too cold, I looked down and saw a faint mist on the floor. Some of the fog had gotten in, pouring itself through the window and covering the floor as if it was some sort of cool blanket. Each step I took made the fog stir, Rosie’s muttering grew more and more erratic. The window, there was something in the window. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, my vision clearing up as I looked out the window. The fog was not as thick as it was in the morning, I could see outside and down our driveway. That was when I saw it. Its hand landed on the floor peeking out from the corner of our garage as it walked into view. A large hand thumped on the floor, heavy enough that I could feel its vibrations. I followed the hand to a long and strong, gray arm that was covered in boils on a bare chest with the ribs open like a door. Dark tendrils branching out of the ribcage and disappearing only to stretch out again as if grasping for the air. The creature had no legs and instead ended in a tail-like tendril that floated in the air, making it seem impossibly unbalanced. Its face was lizard-like yet human and suddenly its mouth shot fully open, impossibly wide and a loud sound similar to a horn emitted through its gaping void. “Is this a dream,” I stammered, backing away from the mirror. There’s a sudden chuckle behind me. My head whipped around to my closet and my heart began to pound hard enough to burst through my chest. There was a wide, vertical grin stretching the length of my dark closet, stretching as tall as me. Dozens of eyes float around the grin with a dark mass as its body. The creature raised a void of a limb, stretching a broken finger to its mouth to shush me. Dozens of voices emanated from the creature, speaking words but impossible to understand. It grabbed onto the doorway of my closet with another impossible to make out limb as the voices grew louder. Another foghorn. My head was spinning, unsure of whether it should whip back to the creature out the window or stay focused on the one in front of me. It chose the latter. Slowly, the creature began to emerge from my closet pulling its body out with its long arm. Its voices grew faster, more excited. A warm liquid began to stream down my leg. The creature's eyes widened, a long, purple tongue slipped out of its mouth to lick its lips. Another foghorn. My eyes clamped shut, unable to stand the fear. My heart pounding, ready to burst, as tears escaped my eyelids. Suddenly all of the voices grew quiet, and after a minute or two, my eyes slowly opened. But the creature was still there. Its grin opened, “She’s coming,” it said all of its voices coming together for one final message before it disappeared into a cloud of smoke. Incident 3: I woke up to an itch covering my leg. The bed soaked in piss. That was a bad dream? It had to be, right? My eyes shot to the closet door, dreading what they might see, but luckily there was nothing there. I glanced around the room, still unsure of what to think when I noticed Rosie’s bed was empty. Did she wake up early? “Rosie?” I called searching around the house. There was no answer. “Rosie!” I said again, more desperate. That’s when I heard her soft voice. “She’s coming soon? Okay. She’s coming soon? Okay. She’s coming soon, Okay....” She was sleep walking again, her hand fondling the bracelet I gave her as a kid even in her sleep. “Rosie!” I screamed, grabbing her arm. “Is she coming? Okay,” Her rant changed slightly. I tried to shake her awake, I tried calling her name another time. But she would not wake up. She continued to walk, muttering her chant in a trance. Something wasn’t right. She walked through the kitchen, heading through the dining room, heading towards the front door. “Rosie!” I screamed. Mom always told me not to shake someone awake when they were sleepwalking, as it could make them hurt themself, but Rosie was nearly at the door, her hand reaching for its lock. That’s when I noticed a small strand of fog leading up to her head, coming from underneath the door. Guiding her. She clicked the lock. “Is she coming? Okay.” Rosie said again, reaching for the handle but I leap in front of her, smacking the fog away from her head. As the fog cleared up, disrupted by the air, Rosie slowly woke up, nearly falling to her knees. “What was I-” She began. “Who’s coming,” I said ignoring her question. Her eyes began to grow cloudy again, as if she wasn’t really present. “A God.” Incident 4: My mom gave me a mouthful for my wet bed, and after I showered and changed the sheets I could hear my parents arguing. “They won’t go outside! You won’t!” My mom screamed. “You’re overreacting honey, there’s no harm in touching a little fog.” My dad kept his temper. “You’re wrong!” My mom’s eyes darted to the window filling with terror. “T-There’s something wrong with the fog. S-something’s not right!” “It’s just a little fog.” Rosie walked past them, her footsteps strong and determined as she headed right towards the door. Mom was instantly on her feet, running to catch up to Rosie. “Rosie!” Mom screamed but it was already too late, Rosie clicked the lock and opened the door. The door opened with a long creak, fog instantly flooded into the house like cold air from a freezer. Rosie’s eyes were glossy and her movements were sluggish as if she was sleepwalking again and I saw a trail of fog leading to her forehead. Mom grabbed Rosie and basically threw her away from the door. The fog flowed over mom, a faint glow in its mist. “Oh,” She muttered, as if she suddenly understood something important. Her body slumped and relaxed, her once wide eyes relaxing and becoming distant. “Honey?” Dad asked. The fog continued to pour in, covering her. Her arm twitched, the fog rolled through the doorway enveloping her. “Oh,” she said again, this time almost sad. The fog was moving unnaturally, it began to wrap around my mom, encircling her as if she were inside a transparent egg. The fog began to condense, seemingly hardening around my mother. “Oh,” She whispered one final time as the fog began to pour into her mouth. I slammed the door shut. Dad was too stunned to speak. What the Hell was going on?! “Why did you?” I began turning to look at Rosie but she was already gone. Incident 5: We ate in silence, Rosie seemed normal but had a weird stare. “We should go back to school soon,” Rosie said. I expected my mom to become angry, but no. “True, you can go tomorrow.” Their voices had no emotion, they seemed to be talking to no one as if they both understood one another perfectly. “But what about the fog?” I asked nervously. “A little fog wouldn’t hurt anybody,” my mom mimicked my dad’s words, but not in a mocking way. She was staring straight ahead, she was here but looking somewhere far away. “We can’t go outside.” Dad finally said sternly, “Not while that fog is here.” “We can’t stay here forever,” mom said, “we have to go outside.” “We can wait, nobody’s going outside until that fog clears. Weren’t you the one who said something isn’t right?” “It’s just a little fog.” She mimicked and as if on cue, there was a knock on the door. My eyes shot to the door and as did dads. A series of knocks came again, more urgent. “Hello?” We could hear our neighbor, Ms. Baker shout. “Is anyone home? Please let me in!” “Dad, what do we do,” my voice quivered. “No one is opening that door.” “We have to let her in,” Rosie chimed in. Her voice dead, yet demanding. “It’s just a little fog,” mom said. The knocking grew louder. “Let her in.” Rosie commanded. My eyes darted from mom, to Rosie, to the window, then finally to the door. “Please let me in!” Ms. Baker screamed, “My husband, there was something wrong with my husband and he-he!” My dad stood and ran to his room, reappearing seconds later with his rifle. “Dad?” I asked nervously. Mom and Rosie followed him to the door, their eyes blank. Dead. Dad only hesitated for a moment before reaching out and opening the door. The fog wasn’t as thick as it was before and Ms. Baker burst in, ignoring the rifle in my dad’s hand. “Oh goodness!” Ms. Baker cried leaping into my mom’s arms, “I was so scared, y-you wouldn’t even believe what I-!” She couldn’t even speak through her tears. My mom, usually very loving and compassionate, however, did not even hug the woman back, her hands stayed slumped to her side. “Is something the matter Roxie?” Ms. Baker asked, confused. “She’s tired is all,” dad spoke for her. “Oh,” Ms. Baker said, slumping onto one of our dining room chairs. We all took our places back at the table. “Help yourself,” my dad told Ms. Baker and she began to dig in, telling us about her living nightmare as she stuffed her face. She told us how the first day the fog came in, she too could tell that something wasn’t right but her husband didn’t believe her and still went outside to feed their pet chickens that they kept in a coop. “I told him,” She said, “I told him to just let those damn chickens starve, fuck if I care. But he went out anyway, that stupid old man.” She took a mouthful of bread before continuing. When her husband came back he was acting strange and when they went to bed that night and she woke up, she wasn’t lying next to her husband, it was a creature that wore her husbands’ clothes. “I can’t even begin to describe what I saw!” Ms baker cried, “it was like a wooden plank filled with holes but still organic you know?” I didn’t know. “So he was the first?” mom said and I glanced at her timidly. Rosie was smiling in anticipation. “He what now?” Ms Baker asked, pausing. “Anyway, I locked that thing in my room, barricaded the door, but I was too scared to go outside, too scared of that damn fog. But when it cleared up a bit, began to feel less menacing, I took the risk and ran straight here.” “Well I’m glad you’re safe.” Dad said, unsure of what else to say. Ms Baker could sense the tension in the house but having her around made the house more lively. She could talk for hours and hours and being stuck in a home with Rosie and mom acting strangely, that was exactly what we needed. “I didn’t even want those damn chickens,” Ms baker said, “But my meathead of a husband went on and on saying ‘It’d save us so much money’” She went on and on too. Eventually, it grew dark, and it was time for bed. “You can sleep with Roxie on our bed, I’ll take out the air mattress and sleep on the floor.” Dad said politely. It was usually mom who did all the talking for him, I don’t think I've ever heard my dad talk so much. Ms. Baker gave him a warm smile, “Well aren’t you lovely, if only I had a husband like you, instead of that stupid old man.” Ms. Baker seemed mean, but there was a sadness in her voice and I could see a tear flow gently down her cheek. “I’m sorry about Randy,” my dad said and her smile faded. “It’s okay, you know, maybe he’s not even gone, for all I know that idiot just went outside and got lost in this fog. He’d do something like that too, I wouldn’t put it past ‘im.” The grown ups went to their room. “Come on Rosie,” I said, grabbing her hand. Her arm was freezing but she followed me like a lost child. Eventually, my eyes were able to close and fall asleep, exhausted from all the stress from the day. Incident 6: I woke up to the creak from Rosie’s bed. Wiping the tiredness away, I realized it was still pitch black outside. She must have been sleep walking again. Adrenaline coursed through my body as I feared what she would do. I got to my feet, wincing again at the cold fog that covered the floor and began to run after her. I rushed past the door and saw Rosie heading through the hallway towards the kitchen, towards the front door. Panic began to spread through my body and I didn’t even realize my mom and Ms. Baker at the hallway window until I nearly passed them. My eyes spun towards the two and my heart sunk. My mother was holding a wide eyed Ms. Baker to the open window by her hair. Ms. Baker looked frozen, her mouth agape and eyes wild in terror as the fog began to roll out the window and pour through the woman’s mouth. My mom had a slight smile on her face and her long, black hair floated impossibly in the air as if she were underwater. I began to hear the creak of the front door. What should I do? My eyes darted from down the hallway to the two women. A gasping sound was escaping Ms. Baker’s lips as fog continued to flood her mouth, tears beginning to roll down her face. Fog also gently seeped into my mother’s nostrils, and a soft blue glow emanated from her pale skin. I turned and ran towards Rosie. “Rosie!” I screamed and she turned to give me a blank stare, fog gushing into the house with its blue light. I slammed the door shut, making sure to stay away from the fog. Rosie looked disappointed almost as I grabbed her by the wrist, feeling her bracelet on my hand, as I dragged her away from the door. I expected to see my mom and Ms. Baker still at the window but the window was closed shut and the two were nowhere to be seen. I forced Rosie to her bed and told her to stay there as I lay in mine not wanting to fall asleep, but eventually the fatigue took over and my eyes drifted shut. Incident 7: I woke up to a shrill scream. Then another and another. It was my father, those were his screams. I knew they came from him even though I had never heard him scream before, especially not a blood curdling scream like this. I jumped out of bed and ran into my parents room, but nothing could prepare me for the scene that I saw. My dad laid sprawled across the bed, his stomach cut open and guts protruding. He was screaming, tears, sweat, and spit covering his face, yet he was not thrashing about, as if he were paralyzed. My mom sat to his right, looking down on him and patting his head. Wiping away his sweat. “Shhh, shh, sh.” She said “you’ll scare the children.” He lets out another scream. “It’s okay,” she said, “you’re almost there, it's okay.” she patted his shoulder. My eyes turn to the left, to the thing that was causing all of my dad’s suffering. The thing was a stick bug-like creature, it’s head long and narrow and neck like the neck of a guitar. Its skin seemed hard, almost wooden, and its body ended in a large lump with two tiny, useless legs on what seemed to be the stomach. It was wearing Ms. Baker’s clothes. The creature reached down with its twig-like arms that ended in a sharp point. It began to pull and twist at the insides of my dad’s stomach until finally dissecting a piece of him and lifting it to its tiny and narrow mouth and chewing. Holding onto a piece of my dad with its hands like chopsticks, before reaching down again and stretching my dad’s skin further, dissecting him. My dad continued to scream. “There, there” My mom comforted him. What the Hell was going on? The stickbug shifted my dad’s insides before pulling out a long and skinny organ, raising it to its mouth. I had to do something. Noticing my dad’s shotgun leaning against the bedroom wall, I rushed to grab it, my mom watching me unworried as I grabbed the gun and pulled back it’s safety before lifting it towards the thing that could no longer be called Ms. Baker. Bang! The stickbug fell lifelessly to the floor with one shot. My hands stung from the impact, my ears rang, and my shoulder shot back. Tears of fear flowed down my face, but the terror was far from over. I looked over to see my mom raise her finger towards my dads neck. “Things are changing,” She said, her finger contorted into a dagger, looking like a pencil. “You’ll change too,” She said before stabbing my dad’s neck. I screamed, “What are you doing!” I raised the gun up towards my mother but could not shoot. “Go ahead, it’ll make no difference,” she said, “We’ll all be changed by the fog.” Suddenly I heard the beating of my dad’s heart. The beating grew and grew as his chest began to expand, pulsing from the heart. His skin exploded, bones and viscera scattering across the room. The heart began to lift from his body. Floating impossibly in the air, growing. It was the size of a basketball, then even bigger. The beating grew louder and louder reverberating through my body and into my head, giving me the strength I needed. I raised the gun towards my mom and fired another shot, hitting her in the abdomen. Her hands covered her stomach but she was not even stunned. A smile pursed her lips as she fell onto the floor. The heart continued to beat root-like veins beginning to grow out of it, reaching into the open air. As if searching for a new body. I stood there in shock unsure of what to do. I raised the rifle again, should I shoot the heart too? What good would it do though? But before I can even decide I hear the front door groaning open. It was Rosie! I sprinted out of the room and down the hall, towards the open door. The door that was open with Rosie not in sight. Incident 8: Tears streamed down my face as I ran outside and into the fog. I would not let Rosie be taken, I would not let her die. I searched frantically for her, the fog was thick but not as thick as it was before. It didn’t try to enter my mouth or invade my nostrils; however, I could still feel the cold mist in my lungs. “Rosie!” I screamed with all my might, “Where are you!” There was no answer. Then I saw her shirt, followed by her shoes and pants, even her socks. I followed the clothes until I reached something moving on the ground, something that could not be Rosie. “It can’t be,” I cried, tears rolling down my cheeks once again, but it is, even though she had changed I could still see the bracelet I gave her around her disfigured wrist. Rosie was a jumbled mulch of flesh no bigger than a box. She had no limbs other than the one arm, the same arm that held her bracelet. Just a jumbled piece of meat, she couldn’t move, but her long arm reached towards the floor, dragging her forward. Emerald eyes riddled the body and a flap could be seen on her side, a flap that opened and allowed her to speak. “She’s nearly here,” She said, her voice unnatural and broken. The hand on her back reached forward again, dragging her across the hard cement, a trail of blood following her path. I grabbed my sister, lifting her into my arms. My mind became calm and determined, the gun strapped to my back. I began to walk forward. Following where my sister was headed. Deep down, I knew the answer to everything would be there. The further I walked, the more dense the fog became. I began to hear the beat of a drum. A singular note booming through the fog every couple of seconds. I continued to walk forward, my eyes unable to see anything but white. The beating of the drum grew louder and louder and louder until…. I burst through the fog into an opening as if some sort of barrier was keeping the fog away from its center. In the center of the opening sat a creature that looked like a circular vase which was blowing out the fog. It was larger and taller than me, with a big base but a slender neck that ended in a hole that emitted the fog. The fog covered the air above and around us, yet the bubble we found ourselves in was completely fog free. The creature had four long arms with four joints each. Three of them swirled around its body before gracefully lifting up into the sky and repeating this process again and again, like some sort of ritual, while its fourth arm was on its back and it slammed into it once every couple of seconds, making the drum-like sound. Boom This thing was the cause of the fog, the cause of our suffering, of everything. I gently placed Rosie on the ground, she groaned and muttered inaudible words as I grabbed the rifle from my back and lifted it toward the creature. “Rot in Hell,” I said before firing. The creature crumbled from its midsection, a whirring of air escaping its body. I shot again, and again, making sure every last piece of it fell to the floor. Satisfied I lowered the gun and stepped towards its remains, making sure it was truly dead, when I heard a voice. “It’s already too late,” My mom said and I spun around to see her standing behind me with lifeless eyes, the bullet holes where I shot her filled with fog. “She’s already here.” Incident 9: The fog around us swirled towards the center, condensing into a single point. My vision was temporarily blinded as the fog swirled around me. “She’s here, she’s here.” Rosie said. The fog swirled. “Yes Rosie, she’s finally here.” mom said. I could hear the beating of a heart. The beating of dad’s heart. “She’s here,” A voice that barely resembled Ms. Baker’s said. The fog began to lift from my eyes and only an egg-like shape remained floating slightly above the ground. Condensed and pure, nearly solid. And then it cracked and spilling from the fog were two long wings. Her arms emerged next, then her long hair spilled behind her, floating and blowing with the breeze like a cape on her shoulders. The egg began to disintegrate, her long legs emerging and arms clasped together as if in prayer. “She’s finally here. The God of the fog.” My mom said amazed. The woman made of fog opened her pale eyelids, but what they contained was not fog. It was the universe itself, every single thing contained in the marbles that could be called her eyes. Slowly, the woman unclasped her hands and lifted her arms to the side. A portal was held underneath her arms, and from them countless of indescribable creatures poured out, filling our world. The woman then reached her hand forward and pointed it towards my mother. A tendril of smoke extended from it, piecing my mother through her chest. My mother made a sort of hiccup sound as her body began to change. Her body began to fold in on itself, merging into one another, becoming like the trunk of a tree as it hardened. Suddenly two large beautiful wings sprouted from her body like a giant butterfly. A mass raised up from her body and took the form of a mouth, two eyes appearing on her wings center. She looked at me. “This is what we were meant to be, how it was always meant to be! Our goddess has come and with her a new world, a new beginning! You’ll change too Andy, don’t be scared, you’ll turn into what you were meant to be.” Her voice was higher than normal, with a weird echo, like the voices of an angel. Her wings stretched further and she took flight, soaring through the sky. The God of the fog raised her left arm up now, towards the sky, and from it the fog poured out like roots, branching into every house in the neighborhood. I heard some screams, some cries before the newly made creatures poured from all the houses in the neighborhood. There was a whale that floated in the sky with a shell for a back, a boar-like creature with a mouth like the tentacles on a squid, a tall and skinny creature that soared high into the sky, and so many more. “This is what we’ll all become,” I heard my mother’s voice from far away. A crab-like creature larger than a house came too, with its house that it lifted from the ground. All of the creatures circled around the God of the fog, admiring her beauty as she flew higher into the sky before millions and millions of roots sprouted from her finger, searching far and wide for the next human soul. Stunned, I grabbed my sister and ran, watching as the being stared at me with its galaxy eyes. I ran into my house and typed this all out and I’m here now, shaking and unsure of what to do. The sky is covered in her roots now and I know it’s only a matter of time before they cover the entire world and reach every human. At first I did not know why she had spared me, but I was already exposed to the fog, had already breathed it in. I can feel myself changing into something new, something beautiful. Into what I was always meant to be. Maybe you shouldn’t run and cower from the fog when it eventually reaches you; afterall, a little fog never hurt anyone.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dvit7/a_fog_descended_on_my_hometown_i_think_the_world/

nosleep

UnderstandingNo2897

The Skinnies

We grew up by an old patch of woods in New England, and if we had to walk through the forest, Mom always insisted on these three things. Stay on the path at all times. Keep walking, never stop. And never go near the tall, skinny trees. Up until I was around 8, we lived closer to downtown, and we really didn’t know anything about the woods or ever go near them. But then my parents split up, and we were forced to move in with Nana, who lived alone by woods that I know now is considered primeval forest. The original settlers in New England had cut down most of the old forest within a few decades, but here and there, patches remained for one reason or another. By the time I was a teen, most of my friends started hanging out in the woods. Drinking beer, smoking weed…you know how it is. Some were into fishing and hunting. But I wanted no part of that, for reasons you’ll soon understand. Like I said, we moved when I was 8. Nana had had strokes, and though she was pretty healthy and could take care of herself, it affected her speech, so she said few words. The old woods came right up to her yard, and we had to walk through them to get to the school bus. Not far. Only about a quarter mile. It was really beautiful, actually, especially in the Fall. The path followed a narrow river where sometimes a beaver could be spotted. Early in the morning we’d spot dear, Canadian geese, foxes. But every day, as we left, Ma told us to stick to the path, don’t stop…and for the love of God, stay away from the skinny trees. Why just the skinny trees? For a long time we didn’t know. As I walked along I’d be checking out sprawling pines and majestic oaks, and there’d be young trees. Wasn’t a skinny tree just a young tree? When you’re a kid you can dwell on things like that. Like, are there trees that are old, but just stay skinny? How thin does a tree need to be to be skinny? I was prone to daydreaming while walking, and sometimes I’d catch myself slowing down, wandering too close to the patches of trees along the edge of the path, and I’d remember Mom’s warning…stick to the path and keep moving. After a few weeks of living in Nana’s house, she managed to spit out some words like she’d been chewing on them a while, struggling to form them, but had to say them. “Don’t go near the branches,” she said, as Mom handed us our lunches and pushed us out the door. My sister was a year younger than me but already smarter. She didn’t try to dig into the meaning of any of this. For her, she trusted Nana and Mom, they knew something important, so whatever danger was out there, just listen to them. No need to think too hard on it. But as for me, my mind ran wild, and though I was afraid, I just had to know. Nana herself scared me. Probably just because she couldn’t form words easily, yet we knew that her mind was sharp as a razor. That combination can be unsettling. Always thinking, and seldom saying anything. It created an air of secret knowledge. Nana’s side of the family went back to the Mayflower. I guess they believed things the regular church didn’t want them believing, so they came over here to a new land where they could do their own church and tell other people what not to believe. I don’t know if Nana was like that. It was more about things she had knowledge of. She wasn’t at all religious. Never went to church, no religious symbols around the house. But there were just things she knew. Like how to make a hot toddy that would put you to sleep and all but cure your cold. How to make tomatoes grow in the shade. And how to avoid being marked for death by a Skinny. What’s a Skinny? I can’t say for sure. Mom wouldn’t talk much about em, and Nana couldn’t. At first Mom refused to recognize them as true creatures. It was Nana that broke the seal on that one. Thinking back on it, and both Mom and Nana are now long gone, so I can’t ask, but thinking back, I believe the reason they didn’t want me to know about the Skinnies was because they were afraid I’d try to find one. I wouldn’t be able to help it. Yes, I’d be terrified, and I was, but they knew I wouldn’t be able to resist the urge. So what are they? Very tall creatures that are quite thin and have superhuman patience. When I say tall, while descriptions vary, I was told they could be more than three or four times as tall as a man. Yet much thinner than a human being. Standing still, they might resemble a pole, but quarter the width of a telephone pole. Except they aren’t straight, like a pole, but somewhat bent. Usually they bend in the direction of a thin tree they use to shield themselves. To hide right in front of. They can stand motionless for hours. If you watch long enough, at most you might see their eyes slowly blink. Which you might notice, because they’ll be staring straight at you. Watching. They are patient watchers. The Skinnies are human like. Arms, legs, faces…upright. But hard to say much more because they almost completely camouflage themselves, taking on the texture and shape of the tree they stand against, like an octopus, and they only move from one tree to another if they’re sure you aren’t looking. But Mom and Nana were terrified of them because of the mark of death. According to legend, if you were touched by one of them you were marked. Your days were numbered, and the number was small. If you stood too close to the skinny trees along the path, one could reach out with a long, slender arm and touch you. And you were marked. Your clock was ticking. However, as long as you kept moving and kept your eyes peeled, you were fine, not so much because they’re slow, but because they don’t like to be seen. Once I learned about the Skinnies, naturally I wanted to know if they were real, and the best way was asking other kids at school. At first no one I asked had heard of em, so I figured it was all bullshit. But then I asked Lazarus. Laz was a kid who largely stuck to himself, but not because he was picked on. No one dared pick on this kid. I don’t think he ever got into a fight, but there was a sense it would not end well for the other guy, whoever it was. Laz wasn’t older than us, but he seemed it. Every school has a kid like that. You know the-first-kid-to-own-a-dirt-bike kind of kid. Laz mostly stuck to himself reading comic books, and if you went up to talk to him, he’d talk back, not unfriendly, but maybe a little disinterested. He just didn’t need to the rest of the world. Laz also came from old stock around these parts, so he knew all the legends and family secrets. So I just asked him, you ever heard of Skinnies. He lowered his comic book and wore something between a smirk and a frown. “I heard of em. Seen one too.” My jaw dropped. Holy shit. Without waiting to see if we were even talking about the same thing, I asked where he saw them. “Where else,” he said. “In the woods.” He explained how he’d been fishing when he had this sense of being watched. Over time, he felt like it was more than just watching. Something was hunting him. He didn’t get up and go cause he figured it was a big cat, maybe, or a bear. Moving would only make it charge. But more and more minutes went by, and he heard nothing moving. He had barely moved a muscle for a long time, maybe half an hour, when he finally decided to take off. But right before he did…he saw it. Up against a skinny birch tree that bent one way, then back the other. At first he didn’t know what he was looking at because the thing was so tall he had to look up to see its face. Before looking up, he noticed the lines that he thought were part of the birch were unnatural, too vertical. The tree was about 15 yards away, and he made out the creatures knees at about the eye level of an adult human. Little knots from which vertical lines rose. As he kept turning up, the thing never moved an inch, so that he couldn’t be sure if it was carved into the tree. He spotted super long, spidery fingers, gnarled shoulders, and finally an unmoving face. He had to squint to even make out that it was a face. Just as he was sure it was just something carved into the tree, the eyes blinked. Laz freaked so bad he found himself sliding down the river bank into the river, until he was in the muddy water and drifting down the stream. He never even went back for his rod. The story Laz told wasn’t told like a story like that should be told, around a crowd of kids. Nah, it was just me and him. When he was done telling it, he just went back to reading his comic like I wasn’t even there. I walked away stunned. They were real. But what about the whole kiss of death thing? That had to be bull. I mean, mysterious creatures, sure, that’s flesh and blood stuff, so it could be real, but a kiss of death? That sounded like nonsense meant to scare kids. What would be the point of giving a kiss of death even if a creature could? So I spent Saturday morning doing extra chores for Nana. Meaning she owed me. At lunch, still sweating and tired, I laid it on her. Why the kiss of death? But she wouldn’t tell me. Later in the summer, the end of August, when the woods are thick with underbrush, me and my sister walked the path to the bus stop. My sister stuck to the rules of course. Stay on the path, don’t stop, avoid the skinny trees. I did too, but I was looking around real careful. Suddenly I heard a vicious cry. We ground to a stop. My sister covered her mouth. Whatever it was was close. We looked around into the woods. Then it came again. I felt, but didn’t see, my sister move back. I looked into a patch of pines and spotted the wailing victim. A fox held a rabbit in its jaws, and that rabbit was making one hell of a racket. I clapped my hands together and made a racket of my own to scare the fox, and it worked. The fox let it’s meal go. But I hadn’t told my sister any of what was going on, I just assumed she was behind me looking over my shoulder. I was about to step into the woods to help the stunned rabbit, when it found its strength and ran off, little worse for the wear. I turned around, expecting to see my sister relieved in the path behind me, but she wasn’t. She had backed off the path and into the woods on the other side, where she stood next to a tall, dark, skinny tree, having no idea about the liberated rabbit. I gasped. Whispered for her to get back on the path. She immediately did, but she was rubbing her shoulder. What is it? I asked. Something touched me, she said. I was too stunned to speak. All the way to the bust stop I said nothing, but I kept eying my sister the whole way, making sure she was alright. Up til that point in my life, I guess I only thought of her as a pain in the ass…which she wasn’t really. But at that moment I realized I wanted nothing bad to ever happen to her. Later at home, I thought about telling Nana. I wish I had. Maybe something could have been done. A couple of weeks later, on a Saturday, my sister was in the car of her friend’s mom. They were going to the mall. The mom did nothing wrong, but a pick up truck blew through a stop sign. Mostly everyone in the car had minor injuries. But my sister hit her head and died instantly. Days later, I asked Nana about the kiss of death, and she just shook her head with sadness. Wouldn’t tell me anything else. So naturally I went to Laz at school. And even he was reluctant. But I looked really lost and down, and I guess it got to him, so he took me aside. He said the kiss of death was how Skinnies made more Skinnies. If someone was marked for death, they’d for sure soon die, there was pretty much no escaping it. And when they died, their spirit would return to the forest, to the place they were marked. And a process would begin. A process where they’d become a Skinny. From that moment on, the seed of an idea took shape in my mind. I was going to see my sister again. And I figured I knew where I could find her.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dh9i9/the_skinnies/

nosleep

jalapeno-whiskey

Candy Shop 🍭

I still have nightmares about that night. The night when we went to the wrong street. The night when we met him. The night when we almost died. It was Halloween night, and we were having fun. We were four friends, and we loved candy. We dressed up as a vampire, a witch, a ghost, and a zombie. I was the zombie. We had a map of the neighborhood, and we wanted to get as much candy as possible. We started from our own street, and everything was fine. The people were nice, the decorations were cool, and the candy was sweet. We laughed and joked as we walked from house to house, feeling happy and excited. We reached the end of our street, and we saw that there was one more street to go. It had a lot of houses with jack-o-lanterns on the porch. We thought that it would be a great place to get more candy. We didn't know that it was a trap. We crossed the road, and entered the new street. It was dark and quiet. There were no street lights, and the houses looked old and creepy. The jack-o-lanterns on the porches flickered with an eerie glow. We felt a chill in the air, but we ignored it. We were brave kids, and we wanted more candy. We walked up to the first house, and rang the bell. No one answered. We tried the next house, and the next one, but it was the same. No one came to the door. We wondered if anyone lived in this street, or if they had gone out for Halloween. We decided to try one more house, and then go back to our own street. We walked up to the last house on the street, which looked bigger and older than the rest. It had a large jack-o-lantern on the porch, with a wicked smile carved on it. We rang the bell, and waited. To our surprise, we heard footsteps inside. The door opened slowly, and we saw a man standing there. He was tall and thin, with pale skin and dark eyes. He wore a black suit and a black hat. He smiled at us, showing his sharp teeth. "Hello, children," he said in a low voice. "I've been expecting you." We felt a surge of fear, but we tried to act normal. "Trick or treat," we said in unison. The man chuckled. "Of course, of course," he said. "Come in, come in. I have plenty of treats for you." He gestured for us to enter his house. We hesitated, but we saw that he had a large bowl of candy on a table behind him. We thought that maybe he was just trying to be nice, and that he had a weird sense of humor. We decided to go in, just for a minute. We followed him into his house, which was dark and dusty. We saw cobwebs on the walls, and candles on the tables. We smelled something rotten in the air. The man led us to a large room at the end of the hall. He opened the door, and invited us in. "Here we are," he said. "This is where I keep my treats." We entered the room, and gasped in horror. We saw that the room was filled with human bones and skulls. There were piles of them on the floor, and shelves of them on the walls. There were also jars of eyeballs, hearts, brains, and other organs on a table. The man closed the door behind us, and locked it. He turned to us with a wicked grin. "Welcome to my candy shop," he said. "You are my treats." He lunged at us with his claws outstretched. We screamed in terror. I don't remember much after that. I only remember running for my life, dodging his attacks, grabbing a knife from his table, stabbing him in the chest, unlocking the door, escaping from his house, running back to our street, calling for help. I don't know what happened to him after that. I don't know if he died or not. I don't know if he's still out there or not. I do know what happened to my friends after that. They didn't make it out alive. They were torn apart by him. They were eaten by him. I'm the only one who survived that night. But I wish I didn't.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dq15y/candy_shop/

nosleep

Hopefull_Hippo

Trapped in the Dollar General Beyond Pt 15- The Dreams

Pt 14- https://www.reddit.com/user/Erutious/comments/1722cx9/trapped_in_the_dollar_general_beyond_pt_14_celene/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3 It’s been about five sleeps since the first time I dreamed about Gale. The dreams are almost always the same, but I don’t know what to make of them. I’m always wandering through a shadowy landscape, searching for something as I walked endlessly. Saying it was shadowy may not do it justice, but the way it was set up is harder to explain. It was as if the place was a negative copy of the world, everything standing out in harsh white lines against the black backdrop. It’s a lame explanation, but it's the best I can do. Anyway, I just kept walking forward, staggering a little because I was tired or hurt, when I suddenly came across someone in all that strangeness. They were floating a few feet off the ground, their mouth and eyes open as they groaned in pain. When he looked at me, I could see it was Gale and he looked like he was hoping for a great pain to end. He mouthed out words that I couldn’t make out before everything went white and I woke up. Buddy would always come awake at the same time, almost like we’d been having the same dream, and look at me with confusion. I would try going back to sleep, but I just couldn’t get that image out of my head. It felt real, like Gale was reaching out from wherever he was, and as I lay there thinking about it, I knew it had to mean something. Celene had no real advice to speak of. “Like I said, no one has ever gone into the ceiling and come back again, at least as far as I know. Maybe he’s alive up there, maybe he’s not. Either way, it seems like a bad idea to go up there.” I tried to put it out of my mind, but after being woken up the second night by the exact same dream, I couldn’t shake the image. I hadn’t had a lot of dreams since coming here, maybe a side effect of being stuck in this place, and these didn’t feel like the couple of dreams I could remember having. They were extremely vivid and unlike anything I had ever seen before, and I caught myself looking at the ceiling more than once that day. I wished I had some information about what was up there, but not even Gale had ever been into the ceiling before; well, not until recently. But, I wasn’t the only one interested in the ceiling. Tired as I was, it was still hard not to notice that Buddy was looking at the ceiling too. He had his head cocked to the side like he was listening to something, and I wondered what he was hearing over the drone of the fluorescents. Could he hear the Miasma up there? Could he hear someone screaming quietly in the blackness of the ceiling? I didn’t know, but I think that was the first time I thought about what could be up there besides all that darkness. I thought about it a lot that day and I must have carried it with me into sleep that night. I was back in the negative place, and I let my feet guide me to where Gale had been the night before. It wasn’t hard now, I had gone there before, afterall, and I found him much sooner tonight that I had before. He was still contorted oddly, his body hovering above the floor, but he turned his head as I approached, an action that seemed to bring great pain, and mouthed at me again in toneless horror. It was hard to tell what he was saying, buy it looked like he wanted me to help him. “Save me” or Get Me” was definitely the jist of it, though that was just a guess. His eyes turned to look past me as he mouthed, getting big as they spied something, and I turned just as a swirling mound of darkness roared loud enough to shake my soul. Buddy was barking when I came awake this time, and Celene was yelling for him to quiet down. It was hard to ignore the ceiling after the night before, and as Celene and I traveled around getting supplies I found myself looking at the ceilings of different stores. Were they all like mine? Some of them didn’t have ceiling like ours, but I was sure there existed a darkness in each of them. Who could say how you got into them, but they had to be there. It was a constant of each store, after all. The doors didn’t open until they did. The ceiling was full of darkness. The food never spoiled. The bathroom always led forward. Constants, maybe. Who could say? The third dream was much the same, though it was the first time I noticed that something was happening Gale. I found him much sooner that time, my feet now knowing the way. He was still floating there, in his constant state of torment, but pieces of him seem to be floating up. It was easier to tell in the photo negative environment, they looked a little like snowflakes, and if he noticed, it was hard to tell. He seemed to be in a constant state of terror, though, so who’s to say. As he looked at me, he again began to mouth something. It looked like he was asking me to come and get him, but the grimacing in between words made it difficult to tell. Gale was clearly in distress, but whether it was the space or him I couldn’t hear anything you were saying. When I woke up the next day, I think I had already decided that I was going up there to get him. I knew it was a Deathwish, but I couldn’t just sit here while whatever it was was tormenting him. Gale was important to me, and seeing him like that hurt me. It could be a way to Luer me into the ceiling as well, but I didn’t care. I was stuck here either way, so I might as well do something. Celene was instantly against it. “You already went outside and came back. Are you in that big of a hurry to tempt fate?” “But if I can go up there and get him before, it’s all over, maybe he could help us find the end.” “There is no end, kid. It’s just an endless loop o f Dollar General stores. We aren’t meant to escape, we’re just meant to keep moving, keep living, until whatever controls this place gets tired of us.” Buddy whined a little, looking at Celene as if pleading with her not to yell. We were sitting around having dinner when I brought it up, and though the conversation had started out mild it had become a little heated as it went on. She scratched Buddy behind ears and seemed to find some of her lost cool. “It’s just a dream, kid. Don’t think too much about it. Trust me, it’ll just drive you crazy.” I didn’t push it, but I knew it was more than just a dream. Something about this place was special, and it seemed that I had some kind of affinity for it. It had opened the doors for me. It had spared me when I knew so little about it. IT had allowed me to find Gale, Something that didn’t often seem to happen, and it felt like it had thrown me a bone when I met Celene. Now it seemed to be pushing me towards the ceiling, and I couldn’t ignore that. After two more nights, however, I was ready to go regardless. Each dream showed Gale in a worse state. He seemed to be turning into sand, his body dissolving a little at a time, and the longer I came back to him in that void, the less I expected to find him the next night. I can’t claim that Gale and I were family or anything, I had honestly known him for a short time, but it still hurt to see him like this. Gale was the first real friend I’d had since coming here, he’d taught me how to travel with purpose and we’d spent some times together. In contrast, Celene was methodical and not particularly interested in the secrets of this place like Gale had been. She was content to survive, and that seemed to be what she intended to do with whatever immortality we had here. I, however, wanted a bit more than that. The last dream was the worst, and ultimately what drove me to action. When I found him, he was bobbing like a yoyo, up and down and up and down. It looked like he was having a mid air fit, and the lighted squares were falling from him like snow. He wasn’t mouth anything when he looked at me this time. His mouth was open in a scream and he was shaking as he loosed his silent fear and pain. It was terrible, like watching someone hang, and when I heard the tromp of heavy feet, I opened my eyes and sat up panting for breath. Buddy was awake too, but he just watched me as he lay shivering on the ground. He knew, I could tell that he knew, and I knew then what I had to do. Celene woke up to find me packing a backpack. “Where are you going?” she asked, though I think she already knew the answer. “I’m heading into the ceiling.” I wanted to be mad when she grabbed the backpack, but she was gentle about it that it was hard. “Let’s talk about this before you,” “Celene, there’s nothing to talk about. If there’s a chance I can save Gale from the ceiling then I’m going up there.” “But we don’t even know whats up there, besides the miasma. It could be a trap, it could be death, no one comes back fromt he ceiling.” She said, shaking her head as she tried to take the backpack from me. I held fast, not willing to give up so easily, “I’ve had dreams about it. It’s possible to live up there, at least for a while. I wanna bring him back, I want to have him here so he can help us find the end of all this.” “I’ve already told you,” she said, gritting her teeth, “There is no end to this. This place just goes on and on and on. It won’t matter if we have Gale or not, none of us are leaving.” I tried to formulate something that wouldn’t sound crazy, but all I had was a last ditch move. “The Hermit wrote that he had seen it.” Celene stiffened, the thought of the Hermit filling her with a mixture of shame and apprehension. “Jasper wasn’t well, you saw that first hand. If Jasper told you that he saw it,” “It was when he was still okay…well, kinda okay. He came to a spot where he was afraid to go on, a spot where the misama were plentiful, and that there he believed there might be some way to escape.” She wanted to dispute me, but when I put the journal in her hand, she realized she could read it for herself. “Hopefully I won’t be gone long. I want to tie a lead back to here so I can backtrack after I find him. Tie it to the ladder to I don’t get lost while I’m up there. With any luck, I can come back with Gale and Rudy and anyone else I can find up there.” Celene seemed to think about this for a minute before sighing and shrugging, “I guess there's no way I can really stop you.” “Not really,” I said, heading for the ladder, “All I ask is that you keep the hole open and don’t unhook my rope.” “I can do that,” she said, “With you up there, the miasma probably wont,” but she stopped when she noticed buddy. Buddy had come trotting up with a harness and a leash in his mouth. He was looking at me as if to ask when we were heading out, and the look on Celene’s face was heartbreaking. I patted buddies head, telling him that he had to stay here and keep Celene company, but he just kept jumping up and putting his paws on my chest as if to say that he had to go with me. I turned to Celene but she just shrugged and put his harness on, tears rolling down her face a little as she got him ready. “You find Gale, Buddy. You find him and you bring both of them back. And you,” she said, looking at me with a look that brooked no argument, “You bring my dog back safe.” I took a few minutes to write this out before I left, buddy getting some last minute pets before it was time to head out. If I don’t come back, then I guess the ceiling really was the final frontier. Hopefully, I’ll see you all a little later.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dhmpr/trapped_in_the_dollar_general_beyond_pt_15_the/

nosleep

Erutious

I found my family’s corpses buried in the forest. So who has been living with me in my house? [part 3]

Part 1 [https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/170q5q2/i\_found\_my\_familys\_corpses\_buried\_in\_the\_forest/](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/170q5q2/i_found_my_familys_corpses_buried_in_the_forest/) ​ Part 2 [https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17bi9pp/i\_found\_my\_familys\_corpses\_buried\_in\_the\_forest/](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17bi9pp/i_found_my_familys_corpses_buried_in_the_forest/) ​ My hands reacted without my brain even comprehending what they were doing, raising the gun high and pointing it at her chest. I saw the knife coming down as if in slow motion, then thick drops of blood splashing in the air as bullets ripped through her stomach and heart. She jerked backwards, the knife rising back up as her arm spasmed. Stumbling, she stepped forward, futilely slashing at the air six inches in front of Richie’s neck with all of her strength before falling face-first on the porch. Richie hadn’t even reacted as the knife whizzed in the air towards his body. He stood, shellshocked and dazed, like a victim from a war zone. So did I, except with a smoking gun in my hands. Screaming began to emanate all up and down the street as people started running out of their houses. For a couple seconds, I thought everyone had simply reacted to the sound of gunshots. Perhaps some of them had even seen me kill Melissa, though if they had, they would have known my actions were clearly taken in self-defense. She still clutched the knife tightly in her right hand, her eyes bulging from their sockets, the maniacal grin eternally etched across her thin, pretty face in a grisly death mask. I quickly realized the other people on the street were not coming out to investigate gunshots, but instead running for their lives. I saw men, women and children chased by family members wielding knives, axes and guns. Across the street from Richie’s house, I saw a little girl, no older than ten, running in her bright-yellow Spongebob pajamas. The mother, an overweight woman with pendulous breasts and greasy, black hair, held a blood-stained samurai sword above her head, breathing heavily as she sprinted after her daughter with murder in her eyes. Under the harsh glare of the streetlights, she looked surreal, like a villain from a cartoon. “Mommy, no!” the girl shrieked, flailing her arms in front of her as she ran, as if she hoped an invisible guardian angel would grab her and carry her away. “Daddy, help me!” But I had a feeling her dad was not coming, based on the amount of blood already on the murder weapon. Richie and I began to run towards the girl, but the mother closed the distance quickly, her nightgown flying furiously around her waist. Her eyes wild, a twisted grin marring her pale face, she raised the sword, bringing it down on the back of the girl’s leg. With a squeal of agony, the girl fell forwards, her pajamas quickly turning crimson with the blood streaming down her leg. She began to crawl away, weeping and shrieking for her father. Behind her, the mother raised the sword again, intending to strike the killing blow. With the girl on the ground, I had a clear shot now. I had been tempted to try to take her out earlier, but the girl had stood right between me and her mother, and I feared that I would kill them both if I fired. Now I had the mother right in my sights, the lunatic gleam in her dark eyes making her seem somehow inhuman, even alien. I squeezed the trigger, watching her head explode in a shower of hair, skin and bone splinters as a short burst of three or four bullets exploded out the end of the barrel. Her headless body stood there for a few moments, holding the bloody sword high, the neurons still firing in a body that didn’t realize it had lost its life yet. She staggered forwards, falling towards her daughter, the spurting stump of her neck soaking the girl in her mother’s blood. The girl continued to crawl away from this nightmarish figure that had once been her mother. Running forwards, Richie grabbed the girl, carefully lifting her up behind her knees and shoulders. I covered them as mayhem broke out all down the street, continuously moving the barrel of the automatic rifle in the direction of any nearby sounds, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. Most of the houses were spaced a few hundred feet apart, with thick forests that stretched behind them for miles. Further down the street, I saw chaos and bloodshed as deranged family members murdered their own sons and daughters, their own mothers and fathers, littering the street with the corpses. Pain-filled screams shattered the silence of the night, echoing and distorting as they mixed into a nightmarish cacophony. Even months later, I still hear them when I’m falling asleep, the horror-filled cries of children in their last moments. We ignored the bloodshed and ran back towards the house. The girl’s blood dripped all down Richie’s arms. She moaned and kept rolling her head, eventually letting it settle against Richie’s chest. Then she went quiet, her eyes closing, a peaceful look coming over her face. We ran through the open door. Richie took the girl into the kitchen, putting her on the table. I stayed behind, locking the door before also engaging the deadbolt. I turned around, assessing the damage. The girl’s eyes stayed close as Richie took off her pajama bottoms. We both had college degrees and a great deal of theoretical knowledge on many subjects, but neither of us had any real experience in assessing or dressing wounds. I took out my phone, instinctively going to YouTube to type in, “How to give someone stitches,” but I noticed my internet didn’t work. All phone calls and text messages refused to go through. Apparently, they had taken down all cell service as well as revoking emergency services. “OK,” I said, “we have no internet. So we’re going to have to do this blind. I don’t think it’s that difficult.” “I think you know more about this than I do,” Richie said. “You always loved anatomy and dissections and all that.” I nodded grimly. I went and washed my hands while Richie grabbed a box of latex gloves from a kitchen drawer. I walked back to the girl and started to clean the area with paper towels, a bowl of water and a clean rag sitting next to the prone figure on the table. Soon, the water had turned a bright red as I used the rag to clean the blood off her skin. I could see the wound had not hit any vital areas. I saw no severed blood vessels spurting bright-red arterial blood in time with her heartbeat, and the bleeding had already started to slow. I sighed in relief at our small bit of luck. “It looks a lot worse than it is,” I said. “The sword cut into the muscle somewhat, but it missed all the major arteries and veins in the area. She might have a hard time walking, but I think that, as long as we clean and bandage it properly, she should be fine.” “Assuming she gets out of here alive,” Richie pointed out. I nodded. He went and grabbed a sewing kit from his living room, something Melissa had left behind. From the garage, he got a length of fishing line. After sterilizing the needles and fishing line and cleaning the wound with alcohol, I threaded it and began to stitch the girl’s skin back together. \*\*\* The girl still lay on the table, catatonic and pale. Richie and I sat in the living room, unsure of what to do next, waiting for her to wake up from her catatonic state. “You know what I think?” Richie asked. “No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” I said, glancing out the window. Richie’s eyes gleamed, his hands shaking. I couldn’t tell if it was terror or excitement. “You know how the Bible sounds totally nuts, at least the Old Testament part? Where they talk about how all women came from a man’s rib and how there were only two people and everyone is descended from their children’s incestuous coupling?” I nodded. This was a topic Richie had gone on at length about before. I knew where he was going to try to steer the conversation. I sighed, looking out the window again. Other than the dozens of bloody bodies strewn across the street, everything looked idyllic, just another peaceful street in a small American town. “Yeah, and you think it has something to do with aliens, right?” I said. He nodded quickly, gesticulating crazily with his hands now. “I mean, yeah! Think about it! A woman coming from a man’s rib? That doesn’t even make sense. Unless-” he put his finger up- “it was some sort of genetic engineering. Perhaps they wanted his bone marrow for its DNA.” “You don’t need to take out someone’s rib to get their DNA,” I retorted. “You can literally get DNA from any part of their body, except the red blood cells, of course.” He looked at me quizzically. “I forgot just how much you know off the top of your head sometimes,” he said, shaking his head. “Why not the red blood cells?” “Because they lose the nucleus when the progenitor cell creates them, so they have no DNA and no nucleus.” I thought I saw a shadow flicker across the street, but when I turned my head, I saw just shadows. A flag waved lazily in the front yard. “Well, anyways, they might have had a reason for using the bone marrow for genetic engineering. Why do you think Adam and Eve’s great-grandkids weren’t deformed mutants or babbling idiots?” Richie asked. “I don’t know, you tell me,” I answered. “I’m assuming it’s because the story is a load of bullshit.” He smiled at this. “Because the kids were genetically engineered, too, and probably the grandkids and so on. The aliens likely kept changing each individual’s genetic code so these few people could reproduce with their own siblings without harmful effects to the children. They probably engineered all the different races, too. They made the two genders, so why not?” Richie explained enthusiastically. I had to give him credit, the whole idea made sense in a weird kind of way. “And another weird thing,” Richie said, “is that you could make a woman from a man, but not a man from a woman. To make a woman from a man’s DNA, all you need to do is remove the Y chromosome and duplicate the X chromosome, right? But you can’t make a man from a woman’s DNA because the Y chromosome would be entirely missing. The Y chromosome would have to be synthetically engineered from nucleotides, which would pose a huge problem, much harder than just replicating the X chromosome. There’s no way the people who wrote the Bible could have known any of that.” “I think what’s going on now is just demonic,” I replied. “Aliens wouldn’t come all the way here just to take a random monkey and engineer it into the human species. And they wouldn’t care about replacing people. What kind of sense would that make?” But in hindsight, even though both of us were wrong, I think Richie was much closer to the truth. \*\*\* The girl woke up about fifteen minutes later. I heard her moaning from the living room. Turning away from the window, where I had kept a constant watch, I saw her rising on the table, her small face a mask of pain and confusion. “Where am I?” she asked. “You’re just across the street from your house,” I said. “We brought you inside.” “Where’s my dad?” she said. I just shook my head. “I haven’t seen any living people on the street in over twenty minutes. If your dad is alive, then he must have left. There are probably people hiding in the woods until things cool down,” I replied. In truth, I thought there was no chance at all that her father was still alive. I walked over to the girl and put my hand on her shoulder. She flinched back, her dark brown hair falling over her face as she pulled away. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I said. “My name’s Julius, and my friend’s name is Richie. You already know Richie, though, right?” She nodded. “I’ve seen him a few times mowing the lawn and stuff, but I don’t really know him,” she responded. “Well, he’s one of the good guys. So am I. That’s why we brought you inside and bandaged your leg. I even gave you stitches, though I don’t know how professional they look. They’ll do the job until we can get you to a hospital, though, I think.” “My name’s Alice,” she said, smiling, red spots rising on her pale cheeks. “Thanks, I guess. But do you know…” At that moment, the lights flickered. They came back to life for a moment, and then died again. “Ah, shit,” I said. Richie sprang up from the couch, navigating his way through the dark to the kitchen. I heard him shuffling through drawers and then he pulled out two flashlights. He turned one on, and then began to walk over to give me the other. “No need,” I said, turning the attachable light on the assault rifle on. Its LED light looked blinding, much brighter than Richie’s two flashlights. He turned and gave the other to Alice. “Thanks,” she said shyly, turning it on. I went back to the window, deciding to check and see if there was any movement yet. With the streetlights out, I could barely see anything. I shone my light through the window and screamed when I saw a figure standing inches away on the other side of the window, grinning. Strange white tentacles covered the area where its eyes should have been, writhing and undulating, thick with slime and blood. Underneath it, I could see the face splitting in two as its grin spread ever wider, separating except for five inches of bone and glistening muscles at the back. Hundreds of sharp, serrated teeth gleamed in the light. Its body looked skinned, wet with blood that dripped from its bony fingers. It closed its mouth, the flesh coming together without any line or mark indicating where it had separated, and, in a gurgling voice, it spoke. “The experiment is nearly complete. We will keep the strong alive. In the end, you will stand alone, and to us you will return. But do not be afraid. We will make the strong eternal.” “Why are you doing this?” I screamed, my finger tightening on the trigger. I wanted to blow apart this monstrous apparition, but something inside told me to hold my fire. I had a feeling he had not come alone, and if I began shooting, it might force them to invade the house and attack me. “You have three hours left until the experiment ends,” it said, turning to leave. It ignored my question. I watched the muscles on its skinless body contracting as it walked away, the huge tentacles sprouting from its head constantly writhing like snakes. I saw the alien creature walk over to the woods on the other side of the street, where two more of its kind stood waiting, both naked and skinned. A man in a black robe with the hood pulled over his face followed behind them as they disappeared into the shadows. I hadn’t realized just how massive they were until a human form stood directly beside one. They towered over him, at least eight feet tall, with their tentacles stretching out far behind them. I turned to see Richie and Alice, standing horror-struck in the kitchen. They were preparing some of the perishable food by flashlight, making ham sandwiches with cheese and lettuce, drinking milk and orange juice. I sat down, grabbing a sandwich and taking a bite. “Well, Richie,” I said through a mouthful of sandwich, “I think you’re right about them experimenting on us. I don’t know why or what they hope to accomplish, but something intelligent is clearly using us as guinea pigs. Did you hear what it said?” “What’s going to happen in three hours? Is that when they plan on killing all of us, the survivors? They already wiped out most of the town,” she said bitterly. “They killed my mom.” “They killed my family, too,” I said. “And I think we’ll all be dead soon if we don’t do something. We can’t stay here. We have to get out of town. We have to warn people what’s happening here.” “You said those government goons already know about it,” Richie said. “Who else are we going to warn? No one would believe us for a minute. I barely believe it.” I felt like I had been slapped. I hadn’t thought about the men in the black SUVs ever since we took Alice in. Where had they gone? Why weren’t they here, tracking down people associated with the anomaly and shooting them? Unless they had abandoned the town. Perhaps it had gone too far for such measures to be of any use. Perhaps that was why they had disabled 911 by the time I got to Richie’s house. A shiver of fear ran through my body as I contemplated it. “What about getting revenge, for Melissa and your wife-” he pointed at me- “and your mother?” He pointed at Alice. I laughed at that. “Revenge? With what? The three magazines I have left for this rifle? You guys don’t even have weapons, and she’s just a ten-year-old girl. I want revenge just as much as anyone, but we have to focus on surviving. Most of all, we had to focus on her surviving,” I said, nodding towards Alice. “We’re the only people left now who can help her get out of here alive.” Richie was about to say something when shrieking started outside. I heard a man yelling for his life. I ran to the window and saw someone banging on Alice’s house across the street. “Oh God, please help me, someone!” he screamed. When no one answered, he began running towards Richie’s house. I figured he had been doing this for a couple minutes. But when he saw the beam of the detachable flashlight on the gun through the front window, his eyes widened. “Oh thank God!” he said, “please let me in! They’re right behind me!” I looked at the man in wonder for a long moment, then recognition came to me. This was the agent I had ambushed in the woods! I could tell by the broken nose, the bloody mark on his forehead, the black suit he wore, and even by his cold eyes. Without thinking, I ran to the hallway and flung open the front door. “Come in!” I whispered. “And stop fucking yelling! You’re going to attract everything in a ten-mile radius with that…” And then I saw what was behind him, coming up the dark street, and my words caught in my throat. A dozen agents in black suits walked forward, bone-white tentacles whipping crazily around their heads. Their eyes were gone, the entire top of their head replaced by those strange alien appendages. Below it, I saw their mouths gnashing, constantly biting the air with bloody serrated teeth. They were coming in our direction. “Time to go!” I yelled into the house at Richie and Alice. They had been preparing backpacks of food and water. In a flash, they were out of the house, Alice gripping Richie’s hand tightly as her small face contorted with fear at the sight of the agents. I had put in a fresh magazine after we got in the house. Aiming through the sights, I began to fire, my ears ringing as fire erupted from the barrel. Blood erupted from the chests and faces of the agents, their tentacles splitting apart and spewing black fluid on the pavement below. Their high-pitched, animalistic shrieks echoed off the pavement as they ran forwards in a blur. I remember seeing two of them fall, then four, then another couple stumbled as the gun clicked beneath my finger. I had gone through all thirty rounds, and it wasn’t enough. Three of them still ran at us when a blinding light flashed above the trees. I heard a thwack-thwack-thwack sound and a powerful engine roaring behind it. I looked up just in time to see a Black Hawk helicopter flying overhead. A man with a machine gun began firing, mowing down all the remaining agents in a matter of moments. He turned the gun towards those crawling on the ground, still alive, and with a flash of bullets, they stopped moving as well. Then he slowly began to turn the gun on us. I had started to reload, slamming the magazine in as fast as I could. Without thinking, I raised it, looked through the sights, and fired. As if in slow motion, I saw the man above me in the helicopter jerk before falling out the side door. With a heavy thud, his body hit the lawn of Richie’s house far below. The helicopter kept flying and soon disappeared over the forest, the sound of its blades receding and then disappearing within seconds. I turned to Richie, seeing his sweaty face and wide, blood-shot eyes. The agent stood behind him, his face covered in blood. Richie still held Alice’s hand, and the girl had her face pressed against his chest, silently crying. “We really need to get out of here,” I said, looking hard at the agent. I wondered how much he knew, and how much he would tell me. Our bedraggled group, bloody and sore and injured, began walking as one towards the trail down the street, one that I knew ran through a nature reserve and came out at the next town over. And as I listened to the agent talk, I realized just how wrong I had been about everything happening in my town.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dlram/i_found_my_familys_corpses_buried_in_the_forest/

nosleep

CIAHerpes

A guy with spider powers tied me up and stopped my bank robbery the other day.

It's been three days, and with my mouth webbed up, I can't even call for help.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17e7bfs/a_guy_with_spider_powers_tied_me_up_and_stopped/

TwoSentenceHorror

Nearby-Okra-1991

They gave her a lobotomy, electroshock therapy, and drugs.

“Maybe the next session will end these delusions of being Mother Nature” the doctor told her.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17ez2bk/they_gave_her_a_lobotomy_electroshock_therapy_and/

TwoSentenceHorror

101justinm

I swore I closed my closet door, but it was open again.

I was walking over to close it when I remembered I was camping, near the cliffs.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17el1mi/i_swore_i_closed_my_closet_door_but_it_was_open/

TwoSentenceHorror

-Deimosinthedark

Contrary to popular belief, H. H. Holmes didn't actually own a murder hotel, or any kind of hotel.

So while I did emulate the story, I think it's unfair to call me a copycat killer.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17ew3hc/contrary_to_popular_belief_h_h_holmes_didnt/

TwoSentenceHorror

GenericSpider

I checked the security cameras and everything was fine a few minutes ago.

Checked them once again and my daughter wasn't in her bedroom, only a black silhouette with bright white eyes staring at the camera.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17ezhaf/i_checked_the_security_cameras_and_everything_was/

TwoSentenceHorror

Jony_Wolfsoul

6 months ago, after finding out that I had a deadly disease and only have 1 year left to live, I made a deal with the devil for 3 more.

Yesterday, scientists announced they found a cure.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17famby/6_months_ago_after_finding_out_that_i_had_a/

TwoSentenceHorror

nphhpn

My Mother always told me that the heartbeat I heard every night was the sound of my own blood pumping through my ears.

I believed her until I went down on my pillow too hard one day and the rat living inside it let out an agonizing squeal.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17f7dug/my_mother_always_told_me_that_the_heartbeat_i/

TwoSentenceHorror

ligamentperson46

I felt my mind slipping away, as the zombification process took hold.

"There is a cure," said the Doctor as his assistants chained me to the bed, "but unfortunately your policy doesn't cover it."

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17e1aby/i_felt_my_mind_slipping_away_as_the_zombification/

TwoSentenceHorror

MelodicLemon6

I laid a handful of pills in front of my patient and told him to take two after each meal everyday.

Then the nurse rushed towards me, yelling, "Henry, how many times do I have to tell you not to hand out pebbles as 'medicine' to fellow patients in the institute?!'

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17faisl/i_laid_a_handful_of_pills_in_front_of_my_patient/

TwoSentenceHorror

Dramatic_Coast_3233

Laying on my back, I admired the gorgeous Himalayan sky.

I felt at peace as I realized that this was the view my frozen eyeballs will get to see, for all time to come.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17eugh9/laying_on_my_back_i_admired_the_gorgeous/

TwoSentenceHorror

EvilGabeN

they keep coming back, why do they keep coming back?

i say as i scoop out my eyes again and throw them on the pile.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17enayw/they_keep_coming_back_why_do_they_keep_coming_back/

TwoSentenceHorror

foxstarfivelol

While I was cleaning the attic, I found a milk carton from the 1980s

That’s when I also saw a missing child poster of me

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17en22j/while_i_was_cleaning_the_attic_i_found_a_milk/

TwoSentenceHorror

Gamerhogplays

“I really feel like the only girl in the world…” she whispered to me as we watched the sunset on the beach.

If I had more than one bullet, I’d keep her from feeling like the only person in the world, too.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17ev9h0/i_really_feel_like_the_only_girl_in_the_world_she/

TwoSentenceHorror

KatyKat8616

Having learned about the dangers of climate change at school, the young girl rubbed the magic lamp and made her best wish.

As nightfall brought frigid winds over a hundred degrees below zero, she realized far too late that "greenhouse effect" and "global warming" were two very different terms.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17egj1u/having_learned_about_the_dangers_of_climate/

TwoSentenceHorror

Autoboty

I was making out with a guy at the club when he started choking and gasping for air.

You should have seen the look on his face when he realized it was because of the webs and the hundreds of my spiders I vomited into his mouth while he blacked out.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17e9yur/i_was_making_out_with_a_guy_at_the_club_when_he/

TwoSentenceHorror

derf_vader

There was hope for my immediate family because we had the genetic markers that kept us 'invisible' to the hordes of zombies.

As I stood on my roof and watched another hospital get over-run, I wondered where my parents would fill their life-saving heart medicine prescriptions now.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17dvivq/there_was_hope_for_my_immediate_family_because_we/

TwoSentenceHorror

ThrowawayBlast

The fire quickly enveloped the room, I only had one exit so I took it.

I had forgotten that I was on the 10th floor however.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17f6huf/the_fire_quickly_enveloped_the_room_i_only_had/

TwoSentenceHorror

Zealousideal_Care807

I was home alone one night and heard drawers opening in the kitchen.

I went to go check it out, when i felt a warm sharp painful sensation moving across my neck.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17ezs28/i_was_home_alone_one_night_and_heard_drawers/

TwoSentenceHorror

Independent-Tough-98