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My dad’s mystery and my dad’s creepy co worker

(REAL) I’ve had a lot of weird, unusual, or just down right creepy, instances happen in my everyday life for as long as I can remember. It’s not just me either, several members of my family have shared some scary stories with one another down the years. What I’m about to tell you is a completely unexplained mystery that happened to my dad in 1980 when he was 18, and it involves a night out with his best friend, and their girlfriends at the time, who’s relationship’s didn’t last long. It may not seem relevant, but the events in this story are one of the reasons for that. My dad grew up in Manchester, England in the 1970’s. As my dad was looking for work, and balancing university, he had a night out every Friday and Saturday night, usually with his friend, who I’ll call Wayne for privacy reasons. Despite my dad’s thirst for alcohol, he never used drugs, or smoked weed even though his friends did. Wayne, my dad, and their girlfriends at the time arrived at a nightclub in Manchester,England one Friday night. None of the 4 were intoxicated yet, so the eagerness to get hammered kicked in. My dad bought the round of drinks, but before he could take a sip, he was bursting to use the restroom, so he handed over the drinks to his friend and girlfriends while he went to use the John. The club was not busy yet, as it was only 11pm, so the line for the toilet was very small. Security guards kept an eye on drug users and people falling asleep, or being simply too drunk or wanting to fight in the bathroom. My dad did his business within a couple minutes, and after washing his hands, opened the door back to the dance floor to a pit in his stomach. The last song of the night was playing, this song played every night the club was open to single it was last call. My dad couldn’t piece together what was going on- how could the last song of the night be playing? He asked the bartender for the time, and the bartender’s watch was 5 minutes to 2AM. Stunned, my dad couldn’t understand how a bathroom break for a couple minutes went by over 4 hours. He was slapped hard in the face by his then girlfriend, accusing him of leaving the club to be with another girl. Even my dad’s friend Wayne had a smirk on his face eagerly awaiting to hear who the girl was. My dad was not amused, and he was extremely angry, not understanding what was going on. Was the whole club playing a joke on him? Did he fall asleep in the club? Wait, the security would have thrown him out if he was asleep! He couldn’t process what was going on. He went home and took 3 shots of vodka, trying to calm down. To this day my dad cannot figure out what happened that night, and 39 years later he still swears to this day he was sober that night at the club. Months after that night, he met my mum in the same nightclub, his first time back. Questions will surround the night at the club seemingly forever. Was my dad abducted by aliens? Was he thrown into another dimension? Or did someone drug him, and then bring him back to the club? We’ll probably never ever know what really happened, but if something did, I’m glad my dad doesn’t remember it.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/aw02a7/my_dads_mystery_and_my_dads_creepy_co_worker/

freehorrorstories

rashtial10

[TRUE] White Glowing Eyes

The following is a very true experience. I've never actually wrote this down before and I don't know if anyone has experienced this too. This happened between 1989 & 1990 and I was about the age of four years old. To this day I still get chills thinking about it and I wonder if in some way unknown, it changed me. My parents had a house in the Inland Empire of Southern California and at the time my brother hadn't been born yet, so I was still the only child. To give you a layout, My parents' house was a two-story house located in a cul-de-sac. On the bottom floor there was two bedrooms, a bathroom, the living room and the kitchen. The second floor was just the master bedroom and bath. All you could see from the street was the garage and one of the bedroom windows on the bottom floor and the window of my mom's bathroom on the second floor. To get to the front door you had to walk along the cement pathway that ran along the side of the house. You had to pass the first bedroom that you can see from the street, then you pass the bathroom window and then another bedoom window and then you would be at the front door. The backyard was beyond that point. My bedroom at the time was the bedroom next to the front door. Now for some reason, my blinds weren't completely down to the bottom of the window. There was about a 6 inch gap with nothing covering it. I was pretty young, so I didn't really care much about it then. The bed was in the middle of the wall across from my bedroom door and to the left was the window. According to my mom this all happened right before midnight. My mother was asleep in her room upstairs and my dad was a police man that worked nights in another city. I was fast asleep in my room and out of no where I suddenly awoke, looking up at the ceiling. I don't know what woke me or if I just popped awake on my own. After my eyes adjusted to the the nights light of my bedroom, I sat up and started looking around my room. All of the sudden something caught my eye at the window, in the gap. First, I thought it was the street light reflecting on the window. But I knew for a fact that there was only one street light and what I was looking at was two obvious glowing spots that were spaced apart as if on someone's face. Then I thought, is that a cat looking at me? And Yes I vividly remember thinking these things, trying to debunk this at four years old. I had remembered then that my cat Chelsea's eyes would reflect at night. But this looked different then that. The cats eyes would almost have different colors when reflecting. These were two very solid bright white glowing eyes... looking straight at me. I just stared at them frozen stiff, trying to make sense of what I'm seeing. I couldn't see a face at all, the eyes were just so bright nothing else stood out. That void or "face" around the eyes looked blacker than the night. I thought again, well if this is a cat how could a cat be big like a person and why would a cat stand up to stare in my bedroom? The curiosity got me and I went for it. I flipped my covers off, turned my little 4 year old body towards the window and put my feet on the floor. This is the moment the creepiest thing happened and it will forever be burned into my brain. I got off the bed and got on my knees to get a closer look at this so called "cat." When at this very moment, this faceless pair of glowing white eyes begins to slowly and steadily tilt to the side (very similar to Michael Myers in Halloween), eyes still locked on me. Not blinking once. The feeling of dread and fear shot through my body. Completely terrified, I burst into tears immediately and booked it down the hallway, through the living room and up the stairs to tell my mom. Although I was going as fast as I could, It felt like it took forever. When I got to my mom I was so upset, I couldn't get any words out. Tears were streaming down my face and my mom was becoming seriously concerned at this point. She was able to calm me down just enough for me to get out the words "There.... There is white eyes looking at me through my window, on the bottom." Stutter crying hard. Are you sure? My mom asked. I cry out "yes!" She didn't even go down to look, she just called the police. I don't remember the time it took for them to arrive or what they said because I finally fell asleep in my mom's bed. I do remember faintly waking up to a knock on the door and my mom going to open it. The cop speaks to her and I hear her say "Ok, thank you goodnight." and she shuts the door. "Did they find it mommy?" I asked half asleep. "No honey, he said they couldn't find anyone." my mom told me softly. "It's ok now, just try to go back to sleep." It's safe to say that the next day, my whole window was covered. Years fast forward and I'm in middle School now. Every now and then I would think about that night. Sometimes I wondered if that moment was real, if those eyes were really there. Those unforgettable white eyes. One day a random thought came up and I asked my mom if she remembered that night. She tells me "yes of course, why?" "I don't know, just wondering I guess." I said. Then my mom proceeds to say "Well I never told you this but when the deputy came out that night, he told me they made it a priority to get out to our house as soon as they could because not very long before I called 911 they received another call from someone else reporting that someone was looking in their window. In our same neighborhood." Hearing that sent chills down my spine and to this day I wonder who or.... What was looking at me that night?

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/ava94n/true_white_glowing_eyes/

freehorrorstories

mosaic_unearthed

[TRUE] Creepy Woods

Ok, so I don't really know how to start this story off, but it just happened like an hour ago, and I'm still spooked. So, a bit of a preface; me and my friend are home alone right now, and have been for a few hours. Every time he comes over, we go to the woods by my house, and it's normally uneventful, with some throwing rocks and breaking trees and stuff, harmless fun. But this time, something else happened. Like I said, we're home alone, and have been for a while, and while this happened, we were obviously home alone. We went outside to go to the woods, and the trip there was uneventful, but once we got there, something was off. Everything was dark, tons of trees had been knocked down, and the entire place was not like I remembered it being. We kept going in, still having our usual harmless fun, and at one point my friend turned to me and said we should go back. I looked at my phone, and decided it had only been 30 minutes, and so we might as well stay longer, cause it'll be a few hours until anyone would want us to be home. We continued on, finding a few strange things, like an old crushed mountain dew can, probably 10-20 years old, and a toy boat which had been completely destroyed by the wind and water and other things, and was probably even older than the can. Our plan was to go further than I had ever been into the woods which isn't very hard for us, because I've barely been that deep. After walking for a while, we came to a landmark I knew of that marked about the deepest I've ever been. A while ago, when I was going far in, I came upon a bridge built on a log that fell over a river in the middle of the woods. However, one thing was different, there was something sitting on top of it. Whatever was on it was small, and resembled the head of an animal. When we got closer and got a good view of it, it was a deer skull, pearly white and clean, sitting on the bridge, with no clue as to who put it there, and where the rest of it was. Behind the river there was a huge hill with a creepy small house on it, and while we were looking around, I heard a creek or some other high pitched noise from up towards it. Freaked out, we began to run, and from behind me I hear my friend scream, and I hear him running behind me. We both keep running, and once we reach the edge of the woods, we step onto the road. I asked him why he screamed, and he said he heard footsteps next to him. We quickly made our way home, and when we got there, the garage door was open. Not knowing if it was left open or not, we ran inside, locking the door, checking the house, and turning the alarm on. Now we're sitting here, and by the time I finish this it's nearly 2 hours since, and I still can't shake the fear of that eerie woods from me, and if you would like more evidence that this happened, ask my friend, [@cringeyninjee](https://www.reddit.com/user/cringeyninjee/).

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/au0rig/true_creepy_woods/

freehorrorstories

Cringylord420

[TRUE]

About 6 years ago when my cousin, we'll call him James, was 15 and i was 7 our parents left us to go to a wedding . They trusted him enough to babysit me for a while so they could get to the wedding time. It was more of the parents friends so we didnt really have to come and it seemed cheaper to leave us at home. It was sometime in fall, maybe the first week or so of November. He and i were playing games when there was scratching at the door. It was loud and animal like. Something or someone wanted to get in. James had gotten up and walked over to the door to look at who it was only to have the door kicked. It was like something wanted to break the door down. James had started to get nervous and he looked at me. He was scared and today i still dont know why. He was completely silent and he quickly ussured me upstairs. It was only around 7, but it was dark and he insisted that it was my bedtime. He tucked me into my bed and went back downstairs. This was my aunt and uncles house and they hunted. They had a small amount of guns and i could tell that when James went downstairs again he went to grab one of the guns. I started hear loud shuffling outside in the leaves and i called for him to come upstairs. He was up and next to my bed in less than a second with a gun in hand. I told him about what i was hearing outside and how i was scared. He looked outside and said there wasnt anything. By then the scratching and kicking at the door had stopped, but i was still scared by someone trying to get in and hurt us. James stayed in my room and insisted we would be ok. I fell asleep and from what i know so did he. At around midnight the shuffling again and it was in the house . I emedietly started to cry and that woke james up really fast. He got up and walked out of the room and stood at the top of the stairs. Seconds later i heard him shoot something and a scream. He ran right back into the room and blocked the door with everything he could find. I will still balling my eyes out and barely registering what was going on. James sat on the bed next to me and tried to comfort me, but i was having none of it. I kept wailing at the top of my lungs. A minute or so later there was scratching at the bedroom door. James grabbed his phone and called the police with me now trying to push him so hes in front of me. I wanted to be far away from whatever that was. The scratching continued and it semed like hourd till the police arrived. The sirens were the thing to scare whatever that thing was. I dont remember much from what happened and James only ever tells it when im not around. This is all ive got really

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/atq1lf/true/

freehorrorstories

lily-draws

Moaning Myrtle? Nope, that's a different singing bathroom ghost.

First incident post-move. My friends have had things like this, but this comes out of personal experience. I am a 15 year old girl and a level 8 gymnast in rural Pennsylvania. ​ After the old gym incidents and the need for some new space and equipment, we moved to a new gym. This story occurs a few weeks after the move. The new gym was the gymnasium of an old high school, so the bathrooms are stalls like at school. Across the room are a few changing stalls. The rooms is girls only. The stalls with toilets are in a row of three, the last one being handicapped accessible with a ramp going up to it. One practice I had to use the bathroom while the rest of my team was vaulting. I went to the large stall up the ramp since no one else was in there. You can always tell if anyone goes in or out since the door creaks heavily and the outside noise gets a thousand times louder. I was humming to myself, louder than usual since (as I said) no one was in the room with me. I stopped when I sat down, and then I heard a hum. “La dee da! La la laaa! Dee do da la dee!” said a voice outside. It echoed off the tiled walls and floor. It sounded as if a young girl had entered and was singing quietly right outside my door. Except the bathroom door had never opened. I looked under and saw the shadow of feet, but I looked farther up and there was no flesh, no feet, just a shadow. I heard giggling and running footsteps down the ramp. Then they just suddenly stopped. I kept looking under, but the shadows were gone and there were no feet. The noise of the door opening and closing never came. I quickly finished and ran out of the room, terrified that Sheldon and Lucille had followed us to the new gym. We could never escape their presence.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/ajwuy0/moaning_myrtle_nope_thats_a_different_singing/

freehorrorstories

gag_me_

[FICTION] "The Machine In My Closet"

I remember waking up at 6:00AM one day, to the abrupt emanation of a mechanical whirring and clanking from my closet. I considered checking out whatever it was. Just my luck, I happened to keep around an aluminum baseball bat in my room. In all truth, my room is a mess. There were books, textiles, electronics, and blankets, covering the floor. It wasn't... The worst that could happen. One could walk, and not end up with paper engulfing their toes, but that didn't mean it was a clean floor. I kept stuffed animals, clothes and a box of old photos and trinkets I had collected. I wrapped my fingers tightly on my bat, and slowly walked towards the closet. My legs were cold, but, I didn't mind. You see, I don't wear pants when I sleep, just some underwear and a t-shirt. Upon opening the closet door, a strange red light shone out, I covered my eyes. The light hurt, as my eyes were not adjusted to much light at all, this early in the morning. I blindly lugged my bat at whatever was in the closet, and hit something... Metallic... The metallic thing let out a fuzzy, corrupted noise, I nearly jumped upon this, and fell over from the sheer terror of there... Actually being something in my closet, making those noises. I felt something... 3, cold, metallic... Things, curl around my leg. I slammed the bat down again, letting out a brief shout upon the sudden grasp. I hit something.. It was metallic, yet again.. But I wasn't certain what exactly it was, since I couldn't open my eyes. I heard, and felt the metal graspers, jerk back off of my ankle, upon this I reached onto the surface of the counter, and lunged, attempting to shove my bat into whatever this... Metal thing... Was... I tore into the wall, having missed in my blindness... That'll cost something... Assuming I survive this... Whatever this thing was, grabbed my waist with its metallic graspers. I heard a shrieking noise, not unlike the corrupted one from before, and nearly dropped my bat, before launching a bash onto the thing. It shrieked again, this time, leaving my ears ringing. I could see the red light fading, through my eyelids... Fading as the graspers fell limp.. I pushed off of the thing, my skin cut, and my shirt torn.. I slumped out of the closet, and fell, like bowling balls hitting the floor, I dragged myself onto my feet. I began to limp out of my room opening my eyes. I took my cellular phone from on top of my bedside table, and dialed 911. "911, what's your emergency?" Chirped the operator on the other end. "Yes... Operator? There's some sort of-"I turned to the closet and went to turn the light on, finding a big silver machine. Hard to describe by my current means, but it had a face.. And lots of gears... I went back to the phone. "Machine, in my closet. It's dead... I contacted 911 after it intruded." "I see, what's your location?" The operator asked. I answered with my address, and followed it with. "Currently standing over the limp body of a metal...*thing*." "Alright, and this thing, did it attack you directly?" She asked again. "Yes. I beat it with an aluminum bat I keep in my room." I responded. "I have the bat with me. I'm not in any danger anymore.. At least.. I think..." "What's your current status?" The Operator asked. "Minor cuts on my waist, chest and legs.. But... I'm just a bit shaken up other than that." I told her. "Alright, we'll be allocating resources to your location. Please stay where you are, on the line." The Operator said. I sat down on the floor and waited, wondering how longer I would have to stare at that silvery thing...

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/ajcigk/fiction_the_machine_in_my_closet/

freehorrorstories

OxyProxGamer

Haunted Gym? I don't know what to think anymore.

This is the first of MANY stories about strange experiences at my gymnastics facility. I can and will post more, so keep watching! \*Note: Names have been changed and I refer to myself as OP in dialogue Now, I know what you’re thinking. “OP, a haunted gym? Come on, this is supposed to be non-fiction!” Believe me, I would’ve thought I was crazy reading this too. I’ve always been a skeptic, but this really changed me. I’m the person who loves science and can always find a logical explanation for something, even when it’s a huge stretch. But no, I’m not joking, these experiences changed me and my team forever. You believe I’m not crazy yet? Well, that’s good, I can finally tell you my story. I’ve been doing gymnastics for about nine years at this point and I’m competing level 8 this year. But this story begins about a year and a half ago, in November of 2017. Competition season was rapidly approaching and plans were being made to move our gym across town before the month was out, so we were working harder than usual in the gym. Our team was burning out, and we really needed to remember why we loved the sport so much. My floor coaches, Gabby and Maiya, sat us all down one day to have a team chat. Brooke, Abby, Sidney, Emma, Charly, Alayna, and I sat in our usual semicircle at their feet. “I can tell you’re losing it. I am too, so I propose a break. After Friday’s practice, we’ll have another sleepover. This may be our last chance in this gym.” Everyone, of course, loved Gabby’s proposal. All of our past sleepovers had been some of the funnest experiences at the gym, and they had really brought us closer. This one was to be no exception. My teammates all agreed to bring drinks, games, and of course, food. “We’re going to make this the best sleepover ever!” exclaimed Emma. The day arrives, and we’re all itching to get practice over with so we can party. We listen to Charly’s new song, titled “I Got Two Boobsicles.” It was ridiculous, but we loved her songs and her strange, twisted 11-year-old brain. It was an average practice filled with laughs in between exercise after exercise. The time finally came for us to stay. First on the agenda: Wiffle Ball! We split into teams and play our hearts out. As I’m up to bat, I swing and hit! I throw my bat aside. I hear a scream. Brooke is on the ground, hands over her face, looking like she had just seen a ghost. She took her hands away and her right eye was bright red. “OP you idiot!” she shouted, almost giggling, “All I saw was the bat coming at my eye and then pain!” I had hit her with my flying bat! Wiffle ball was almost over after that, and with the collegiate softball talents of Gabby and the pure stubbornness of Sidney and myself, we had managed to squeeze in a victory. Next up was just some dancing and our “annual” ugly dance-off. We all spread out across the floor in front of the tall, vast mirrors we use to practice our routines. That was cut short, because soon after the music had started playing, Alayna noticed something was wrong. “Guys! Guys!” she shouted until one of us decided that maybe what she had to say was more important than doing the worm. We shut off the music and turned on the lights. “What the hell do you want, Alayna?” we all questioned. “Those haven’t been there, have they? No one did that. How could we never have noticed?” She asked, her voice slightly shaking. All of us confused, we stared at her like she was crazy. We thought maybe she was crazy until she slowly raised her hand, pointing to the top of the mirror. There they were: long, thin, white handprints all across the top of the mirror. There were some very large, claw-like ones, upside down, twisted, all over the place. Some of them were tiny, almost as if a baby had crawled across the mirror. They too were twisted, upside down, and in no special pattern. It was like I could feel the hands clawing up and down my back, and the chills sent me to the ground. We were all floored, staring in horror and awe. “Did one of you pull that? Come on, don’t scare us. This is total bullshit.” I said. I knew in my heart it wasn’t any of them, but my skepticism prevented me from believing what I was seeing. “None of us did that, OP. There’s no way anyone could do that without standing on something.” Abby had always been like an older sister to me. She was strong and fearless. But now even her voice was high pitched and quivering with fear. We all sat there almost silently for a few minutes, just processing the image before us. Being tweens and teens, each of us took out our phones and snapped a shot of the prints. In a vain attempt to lighten the mood, Emma said, “The big ones look like a Sheldon made them!” We were too creeped out to fully appreciate the humor, but a lighter mood came over us like a blanket. “The little ones are definitely a little girl, like the girls in *The Shining*.” Charly remarked. I dubbed her Lucy, but that wasn’t quite right. Sidney suggested Lucille, and something about that sent a chill up my neck. “Lucille.” repeated Maiya, and I could tell that she too had felt what I had. “I can’t look at them any more. Let’s get rid of them.” Brooke suggested. This kind of paranormal activity affected her the most. She had always believed in ghosts and grew up in an old house with many experiences I had chalked up to coincidence or some other phenomenon. Now I wasn’t so sure about that. Gabby and Maiya grabbed the cleaning supplies and a couple stepladders, and soon the mirrors looked as if no hands had ever touched them. Scared, but determined to keep up with the fun of the sleepover, we decided to play blackie: hide and go seek, but in the nearly pitch black of the gym at night. The only light coming in was the dim beams of occasional headlights on the road outside streaming through the dusty garage door windows. Rounds went by and my spots were legendary. I’ve always been great at finding tight spaces in corners no sane person would think to check. The round when it happened was no exception. Let’s pause the story real quick and I’ll give you a layout of the gym. When you walk in the front door, there’s a lobby. The lobby enters into a seating area. The seating area is next to a small carpeted zone we call the preschool area. In front of both of those is the spring floor, and towards the left side are the vaults. Farther to the left is the trampoline and some other mats and storage. The vaults, naturally, have runways that extend all the way to the back of the gym. On the far left past the trampoline area are the parallel bars. Behind the floor on the opposite side of the runway are the bars, and on the far right of the bars are the beams. Littered throughout are piles of mats and other drills. Now this may seem fairly arbitrary and frankly a bit confusing now, but I promise you it will all make sense. This is what made the round absolutely spine-chilling. Gabby, Maiya, and Abby were grouped together to be the seekers. They retreated to the lobby to count as we scrambled in the darkness to find a good spot. I chose to hide in the darkest corner of the preschool area, under a small and colorful beam and covered up by a thin mat. I made sure I had a peephole. Everyone else scattered and hid, and after all the noise of moving mats had died down, I swore I heard a faint noise. I heard it again, but this time it was almost in my ear. “\*My Name\* (omitted for privacy of course),” the voice says, sounding like a hissing snake. Although the seekers were still counting, I felt that I couldn’t be loud. Even though the voice had sounded so close to me, I thought it was Emma calling out for me from the right edge of the floor just 15 feet away. I whispered back, “What?” at the lowest volume I could so I though she could hear me. I only whispered once, and there was no response. I never could call out again because at that exact moment the seekers emerged from the lobby into the awaiting darkness. I watched through my peephole as they went straight to the trampoline area, talking a little bit but still scared. After all, it was dark and we never had the best feeling about the gym at night. Tonight particularly I had a worse feeling than any other time we had ever slept over. I watched the seeker’s figures moving from the trampoline area to the vaults, then slowly walking down the runway. My spying was interrupted by a figure in the corner of my vision. There was at least one human-like shape slowly making its way across the floor toward the vault runways where Gabby, Maiya, and Abby were still sneaking along. I was a little mad that Emma was planning to scare the coaches without me, but insistent to remain hidden, I didn’t come out. I hid my face for one second, and as I duck back into my secret place, I heard a sound. The sound that still sends chills down my spine. It sounded like a herd of animals crawling down the runway at a sprint. The girls had made a plot to scare the coaches without me! I looked out as soon as I heard the noise, and had to cover myself up immediately, then I looked back out. What I saw still haunts me to this day. It wasn’t my teammates out there at all. It was nothing. There was no one there. The sound was reverberating throughout the gym, but all I saw when I looked out was the gym as it was, except the runway had a slightly blacker sheen. Maybe it was the figures, I hadn’t looked long enough to tell. As soon as I was back under the mat, I heard a thud and a set of screams, followed by some sobs of terror. The stampede stopped. The only thing I had left to cling to was my hope of not being found, so I remained in my spot as the coaches and Abby lay at the end of the runway in pure disbelief and terror. They had turned on a flashlight, but no one had left their hiding spot. The gym was as it had been. No mats moved or shadowy figures, just a gym. After a minute of me hyperventilating under the mat, I decided it was time to see if what I swear I had seen was real. Gabby, Maiya, and Abby were in the exact place they had been minutes before, still in a heap on the runway sobbing. Everyone else had come over. “Guys, come on! I thought we had a no scaring rule during hide and seek! You remember what happened last time!” I said, still doubting what I had definitely seen with my eyes. Through all that had happened I was still skeptical. Maybe my eyes had been playing tricks on me, and there really had been girls on the runway before. “No one did that, OP. I was under a mat by the bars the whole time.” Brooke’s response really made it seem real. “I was beside the trampoline in the dark corner, and I swear to God, your mother, anything you want that I didn’t move.” Alayna added with a tremor. Sidney, who was too scared to talk, just shook her head. “Sid and I were behind the parallel bars. We thought it was you and Emma. That’s something you’d do.” Charly said. I had forgotten about Emma being near me. “No, it wasn’t us. You watched me come out from under the beams. I saw Emma crawl across the floor, I thought it was her.” Emma seemed a little angry when I said that. “No. I was there, in those mats, the entire time. I swear. I cross my heart I never moved or even spoke.” That struck a chord for me. “Wait. If you never said anything, then who whispered for me?” When I asked this, I knew it wasn’t anyone else. They were all well over 50 feet from my spot other than Emma. It couldn’t be explained. “No one whispered to you, OP. What I don’t get is why you kept shouting. You realize you’re supposed to hide, right?” Brooke said. I had no recollection of shouting anything, just whispering “what?” in the smallest voice I could muster. Even though I swore all I had done was whisper once, all the others confirmed they had heard me repeatedly shout three times. None of this night had made sense, and the night was still young. Let me stop you there for one minute. Now, I know I still sound crazy. You’ll see. Even me, the girl who had always thought everything was concrete and scientific, couldn’t possible find an explanation. Now back to our regularly scheduled story. We all sat there for another hour, just feeling each other’s presence. No one spoke, but we were comforted by the shared warmth. We thought it had hit us before, but after the reflection, reality was really starting to set in. We all went over, in exact detail, what we had been doing at the time of the event. I started. “I was over in the far far corner under the beam and mat, doing nothing. I had a peephole, but wasn’t looking out.” Naturally, we were suspicious of Charly and Sid since they were the closest, hiding just a few feet from the runway. Charly claimed that they had stayed hidden behind two exercise balls under the parallel bar set. No one was in any state to lie at this point, so we believed them. Brooke was trapped between one large, fluffy mat and another. “I couldn’t see anything, then Gabby and Maiya collapsed into view, then Abby on top. They were screaming. I couldn’t have made it down the runway and back into this spot in the time it took them to turn on a light.” Her point, being quite valid, was accepted easily. All that was left was Alayna, and she too hadn’t moved and was far enough away for it to have been nearly impossible for her to be the culprit. That noise. The stampede of hands and feet crawling along dense, carpeted foam. I can’t get it out of my head. No human, not even all six of us girls hiding could’ve made the sound. It was a sound like no other, familiar, but so otherworldly. Unique. Chilling. Terrifying. This event is a natural conclusion, right? Wrong. There’s more. The night is young. There’s so much more it can’t fit into just one story, so I’ll spare you the details of us playing volleyball on the floor for an hour. But be prepared. As I said, the night was young. After our volleyball tournament, Emma and Sidney collapsed with exhaustion on the trampoline. We took a bathroom break, together for the safety. Abby stayed behind. “What time is it?” Charly asked. “My mom would kill me if it were after midnight.” “It’s 3:33.” I said. 3:33. The devil’s hour. Of course it had to be 3:33. I’ll never forget that time. That was the time we heard a pounding on the door, followed by a shrill screech. “Guys! You need to come out here! They’re back! They’re back!” Abby screamed at us through the locked door. We were in a frenzy, and all of us sprinted out of the bathroom like a pack of dogs were chasing us. When we emerged into the gym, we were haunted by the sight before us. She was right, they were back. But they were impossibly different. “But, but, but… Gabby, you cleaned them off! It was spotless! They were gone!” Charly stuttered in disbelief. She was saying what all of us were thinking. They had been gone, but returned, this time in a new, bloodcurdling pattern. The handprints. Those damn handprints, creeping across the mirrors, twisting, clawing, scratching my insides along with the reflective finish of the mirrors. It was like no feeling ever before. I was afraid for my life, but it was a fear of something there was no proof even existed. No one could believe what they were seeing. It was pure terror. There was something about the prints. They weren’t just handprints. They were claws, scraping the mirrors.They were twisted upside down and backwards and at no angle humanly possible. They struck fear in all our hearts. It was Gabby who broke the silence. “I know this is crazy. But you have eyes. You saw, and I know for sure you felt the same things we’re all feeling. This is real. We need to accept what we’re all seeing.” We weren’t crazy. All this trying to crack it up to coincidence, seeing things, or simply someone’s pranks, and now I really knew it. These things really were unexplainable by nature and humanity. Me, the skeptic, believing something is supernatural. The night had really changed me. But the night was still young. After cleaning the mirrors again so we weren’t living in the shadow of the prints, we huddled in fluffy blankets and talked. We played cards until 5, and then finally got some sleep. It took a while to actually sleep. We would hear a tiny creak or a pipe go off and it would nearly send us over the edge. Everything is scarier in the night. It takes away our sense of sanity and sight. This night would continue even weeks, months, years after it occurred. But finally we slept, still as the dead, until the morning sun seeped in those same dusty garage door windows. Saturday morning practice the next day was uneventful, so I decided to hack Emma’s phone. Charly and I posed for way too many selfies. I scrolled through to find one to send to myself, and dropped her phone onto the concrete below. It had followed us into the light. The terrors of last night came back to me. Emma, seeing her phone on the concrete, rushed over and picked it up. She began to wretch, also horrified at the sight on the screen. On her phone had been a photograph of her, asleep on the trampoline. I thought it was Sidney, until I noticed her sleeping body in the back corner of the image. We had been on the floor all night, not one of us had been over to the trampoline. But the worst thing about it, the absolute worst image that I can never get out of my head, was the screen. The image of Emma sleeping and Sidney close by, with the timestamp: November 11, 2017. 3:33 AM.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/ai3jrw/haunted_gym_i_dont_know_what_to_think_anymore/

freehorrorstories

gag_me_

They all called me a fool, but now that I've released my new strain of bacteria to breakdown and eliminate all plastics from the human body, I will finally be hailed as the hero who solved the microplastics crisis.

I mean, is it really my fault I didn't think of things like pacemakers, defibrillators, artificial heart valves, prostheses...

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17dypy6/they_all_called_me_a_fool_but_now_that_ive/

TwoSentenceHorror

RaynaClay

I awoke to the sound of my own voice whispering from the closet, begging me to let it out.

When I turned to look, I found myself still lying in bed, paralysed, unable to speak.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17ey7ws/i_awoke_to_the_sound_of_my_own_voice_whispering/

TwoSentenceHorror

typicalar

"Boy I sure hope I dont fucking die"

"Hey" said murder man

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17f8a7m/boy_i_sure_hope_i_dont_fucking_die/

TwoSentenceHorror

Old_Man_Stan324

Mantle blobs sit between the rocky mantle and the molten core of the Earth, and we don't know much about them.

If my teams new data is correct, they are protein rich structures that function the way all chalaza do - to protect the yolk of the egg from the shell until its ready to hatch.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17euwuo/mantle_blobs_sit_between_the_rocky_mantle_and_the/

TwoSentenceHorror

ihardlyknewit

[Oct23] As my daughter rang the bell, all the nurses clapped for her as she celebrated beating cancer.

It's better to do this instead of telling her she won't live to see Saturday, her favorite day of the week.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17eps0q/oct23_as_my_daughter_rang_the_bell_all_the_nurses/

TwoSentenceHorror

kneecapsforbreakfast

My heart broke as I watched my wife come back from the brink of death three times before the ambulance driver finally give up.

We could hear his screams for hours as she slowly ripped his flesh from his body, but at least that gave the rest of us a chance to escape.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17ejiem/my_heart_broke_as_i_watched_my_wife_come_back/

TwoSentenceHorror

dalonley1

Wandering through the graveyard it felt like something was watching me,

I forgot to say Goodbye on the board.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17f2avu/wandering_through_the_graveyard_it_felt_like/

TwoSentenceHorror

Zealousideal-Ad-4167

“Eat your dinner, there are starving children in underdeveloped countries”

This time I will heed my mothers warning because the last time I tried to save my food to give to the neighbor in our basement, she locked me in my own room without food for a 3 days.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17ec5c4/eat_your_dinner_there_are_starving_children_in/

TwoSentenceHorror

AceMcClean

My friend was having a bad day, so I bought him a mini package of Reese's cups to cheer him up.

Little did I know or did anyone, he had a peanut allergy and that snack was his last.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17eqbxk/my_friend_was_having_a_bad_day_so_i_bought_him_a/

TwoSentenceHorror

MysticMagnolia

[OCT23] My twin sister and I would've been celebrating our birthday this Monday.

It’s been 23 years and I still regret wishing I didn’t have to share my birthday with her.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17epsbt/oct23_my_twin_sister_and_i_wouldve_been/

TwoSentenceHorror

kneecapsforbreakfast

The little boy at the fountain looked sad so I gave him a penny to make a wish.

When I got home there he was sitting in my son’s bedroom playing with my son’s toys, and all the pictures in the house showed him now instead of my son, who was nowhere to be found.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17dxx29/the_little_boy_at_the_fountain_looked_sad_so_i/

TwoSentenceHorror

BaronBigly

I stood there unable to move or do anything

While the shouting, thumping and crying came from the bedroom

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17egyyt/i_stood_there_unable_to_move_or_do_anything/

TwoSentenceHorror

_stevethegecko_

She was lovely; in her night gown, sitting in bed, reading a book and sipping her wine.

My heart sank as she turned off her lamp, for I knew I would not return to her window till the sun set again

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17epf3i/she_was_lovely_in_her_night_gown_sitting_in_bed/

TwoSentenceHorror

Original-Ad-4713

"My favorite equation has alway been the one for pressure, that is, force over area equals pressure," he said with a bit of a giggle.

Terrified, her mouth sewn shut, a variety of needles, nails, and knives running up her leg, she shuddered as she watched him approach with the hammer and butter knife

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17eunjx/my_favorite_equation_has_alway_been_the_one_for/

TwoSentenceHorror

Original-Ad-4713

I had a delightful dream where I was 8 years old, crushing sugar cubes between my teeth

I woke up to realise I was chewing on my own front teeth

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17erhhe/i_had_a_delightful_dream_where_i_was_8_years_old/

TwoSentenceHorror

OskarTheRed

The moon shines above, reflected gently in the soft ripples of the water.

The gentle reflection catches the shiny carapaces of the beetles, the kaleidoscope eyes of the flies, the scales of the soft surfacing of the many nibbling fish, and the bloated, unrecognizable skin.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17etr5b/the_moon_shines_above_reflected_gently_in_the/

TwoSentenceHorror

ApisHumilis

"I'm not hearing voices!" I kept yelling to that cheating whore of my girlfriend, before leaving her alone once again.

Can't stand that smell nor the flies anymore.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17ehlxk/im_not_hearing_voices_i_kept_yelling_to_that/

TwoSentenceHorror

WandBanana

I snapped when I saw the latest post from my ex-friend, that illness and injury faker Deanna.

So I took my axe and drove to her house, determined to make her so-called “injuries” real.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17f23of/i_snapped_when_i_saw_the_latest_post_from_my/

TwoSentenceHorror

cindybubbles

I panicked when the man re-emerged from the lake and yelled out that he'd found two bodies at the bottom

My panic turned to terror when I heard him whisper "I swear I only drowned one..." as he walked past me

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17dtn6j/i_panicked_when_the_man_reemerged_from_the_lake/

TwoSentenceHorror

ThatOneShortieHo

As a chemist, I was excited to find a new element.

My friend who was a biological scientist wasn't so delighted when weird worm-like tendril stuck to the side of the petridish.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17enarz/as_a_chemist_i_was_excited_to_find_a_new_element/

TwoSentenceHorror

Axis_Powers69

One rat popped up, then one more, then one more, and still more, faster than I could count

And they were blocking my only way out of this dead end at the very bottom of the mine

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17elwhx/one_rat_popped_up_then_one_more_then_one_more_and/

TwoSentenceHorror

OskarTheRed

"Shit, I broke a tooth," my friend said with horror while we were eating our lunch.

"Scratch that, it's not mine," he said after a few seconds.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17dxhcq/shit_i_broke_a_tooth_my_friend_said_with_horror/

TwoSentenceHorror

SuvenPan

The best part of my day is kissing my children goodnight, smelling the sweet odour of their shampoo.

Although tonight I got a slight whiff of corruption, I guess it’s time to bury these and go out to collect some more.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17ei71t/the_best_part_of_my_day_is_kissing_my_children/

TwoSentenceHorror

xxClownDogxx

Some people are afraid that bugs are gonna go in their ears and lay eggs in their brain.

I was suprised that they still think bugs do it, but then I realized the fact that I've always been good at shifting the blame onto others.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17ep89l/some_people_are_afraid_that_bugs_are_gonna_go_in/

TwoSentenceHorror

OzTheD0G3

He had done hundreds of backflips before.

But this was the first time he could see his spine afterwards.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TwoSentenceHorror/comments/17ehijg/he_had_done_hundreds_of_backflips_before/

TwoSentenceHorror

GandalfVirus

My neighbor is trying to ruin my life

"Maybe they are your soulmate. Or even a better version of you." That's what my friend Joe said when I told him about my downstairs neighbor for the first time. My neighbor who seemingly liked all the exact same things I did but who I'd never met. "Excuse me? Better?" l laughed. He didn't elaborate, only grinned as a response, and then suggested we knock on their door. \- I met Joe through some other friends a year ago. After we realized that we lived on the same street, we started hanging out more often. I'd moved to town a couple of years ago, right after college, for a marketing job I was lucky to get. Both of our jobs were mostly remote now so we'd meet for coffee breaks or even work together at my place some days. This made him a witness to all the madness I would be going through, which I was truly grateful for because I'm quite sure that any outside person would have thought I was going insane. Hell, for a while I even thought I was going insane. It all started with music. I lived on the fifth floor of an apartment building. The way the building was designed there were two apartments on each floor and from the outside each floor looked pretty much the same. Except for shoes in front of the door or individual welcome mats, and stuff like that. We didn't have an elevator so I'd cross all the apartments on my way up and down. I started noticing the apartment right underneath mine when the tenant happened to listen to the same song I had been listening to before I made my way outside. I even ran back upstairs to my apartment because I thought I'd left my speaker on but I hadn't. It was coming from the place downstairs. Funny coincidence, not more. The following day, though, it happened again. This time it was a not particularly well-known artist but, you know, Shazam exists. Maybe my neighbor and I had similar tastes. However, when this kept happening for days, I started thinking that it was a passive-aggressive way to tell me my music was too loud. I started using headphones and there was no more music coming from the neighbor. But that doesn't mean it ended there, it simply switched to movies or series. I would walk by that apartment and hear the same things that I'd been watching earlier that day. Even the exact same episodes of shows. And even though I had really lowered the volume. About a week after it all started, Joe and I were working at my place. That's when I told him about the music and the shows. He suggested we knock on the door to see who this person was. I didn't see neighbors often in the hallway in general but this particular one was a real mystery. \-- The apartment under mine had nothing in front of it, pretty much like mine. I had a hallway inside my apartment where I left shoes and other things. They didn't open the door, even though we could clearly hear movement inside. "Hello?" Joe called out but there was no response. That's when the door of the apartment next to it opened where an elderly lady lived. I never interacted much with neighbors but I'd seen her once or twice before. "Excuse me," I said in a soft voice. "Do you know who lives here?" I pointed to the other door. She looked at me for a while and then shrugged. "I believe it's a young woman, moved in very recently. Why?" "Oh, I think my package was accidentally delivered to her," I lied. "Maybe try again later, she doesn't seem to leave her home very often, poor thing," the lady smiled and started walking down the stairs. \-- We didn't try again later. This girl seemed to be an introvert and I didn't want to bug her. So she liked the same stuff as me or copied me, it was kind of funny. Like she was following my recommendations. However, every day it seemed to grow slightly stranger. It went from media to food. I started smelling the same things I was cooking coming from her apartment. I know that scents can travel but it was so strong right in front of her door, there was no way it was coming from my place. That was still fine. Even though I have no idea when or how she got the groceries. I was home most days too and I'd started peeking out of my apartment every time I heard a door close shut. Our building was pretty poorly soundproofed. But every time, it was only the old lady who might have started thinking that *I* was stalking her. The coincidences stopped being funny when one day I walked by and smelled my perfume. It was one that my mother had gifted me, she got it from a place where you can mix together your own choice of scents. Not only was it really unique but I also hadn't used it in months. There was no way she could have just copied it. I told some other friends about it as well and everyone agreed that it was creepy. This woman didn't just have the same taste as me, she was stalking me. I decided that I didn't want to hang around at home all day anymore, right above her where she could listen to everything I did. I realized that if she heard my shows on such low volume, she probably also heard phone calls I made or conversations I had with friends who came over. So I started going back to the office more often, just to get away during the day. I was sick of feeling observed. For a few days, that was fine. I hardly noticed anything from the mystery neighbor anymore. That is until I came home from work one day and my key wouldn't fit inside my door. I called the landlord. Luckily he didn't live far away and came over shortly after. His face was all puffy and red from walking up the stairs and he clearly wasn't happy that he had to come. "So what seems to be the problem?" He grunted, slightly out of breath. Even the old lady mastered the stairs better than him. "Like I said, my key doesn't fit the lock," I said and demonstrated it. He quickly grabbed the key from my hand. "Let me see. Keys don't just stop working, you must have broken off a piece or something." "Well, is there a way to fix this?" He sighed and inspected the key further. Then he looked at me and started squinting his eyes. "Wait a second, are you sure you're on the right floor?" I laughed. "Yes, I'm pretty sure I know where I live." He rolled his eyes and started walking off with my key in hand, down the stairs. I followed him but stopped on the last step when I saw that he had just opened the door to the apartment one floor below mine. "That - that's impossible," I whispered. "Look, love, I know that these floors all look similar but you should be able to count, yes?" I didn't respond, still frozen on that step. "Next time, check where you are before you call, got it?" He shook his head and started walking away, leaving my key inside the open door. He was already a floor down when I heard him whisper "fucking hate new tenants." \-- I was sure I had walked to the right floor but I was tired, maybe I kept walking without thinking. Embarrassed, I finally started moving and went inside the apartment. However, when I turned on the lights, I knew that I hadn't made a mistake. This was not my home. But somebody tried to make it look like it was. When you step inside my real apartment, you get through a small hallway. All I have in it are a chair and a little closet for shoes and coats. This place had that too but the closet and chair were made out of cardboard. It felt like I was going through an out-of-body experience. I couldn't stop myself, I stepped further inside, into what would be the bedroom. Just like in the hallway, everything in there were copies of my own furniture, made out of cardboard. In my real apartment, I used to have a bunch of pictures on the walls of friends and family members. Here I saw exact copies drawn by hand, all leaving out the faces of the people. My stomach started turning. I stumbled back to the hallway, out through the door, and towards the stairs. That's when I suddenly heard something from the upper floor. *My floor.* It sounded like a jingle, something I hadn't heard before. My heart was racing. I looked up, out of reflex, just for a second. And that's when I caught a glimpse of her. She had her arms over the railing but her face was hidden. Then, only for a moment, she looked up and hid again. It was uncanny. This woman had my hair and was dressed in my clothes. Even her face resembled mine, it was only slightly off. As if she'd tried to copy it but didn't get it quite right. I opened my mouth but couldn't speak. A surge of anger filled me, I wanted to jump up there, grab her by her hair, and push her down the stairs. I can't even explain where that came from, I usually wasn't exactly hostile. But something was stopping my body from moving. I kept standing there until she looked up again. Our eyes met and the anger turned into fear. It's difficult to describe the feeling I had when she looked at me, everything inside of me just turned dark, and I became nauseous and dizzy. She opened her mouth but just like with mine, no words came out. Finally, she moved from the railing, and seconds later I heard her door shut. *My door.* I should've called the police, or my landlord. But I didn't. When my body would finally move again, I ran down all the stairs, through the door, and didn't stop until I was in front of Joe's house. \-- We were sitting on his sofa, my body was still shaking. The cup of tea Joe had made me had already turned cold. I told him what I saw. I told him everything. *She's going insane. I need to call for help.* That's what he must be thinking, I thought. But he didn't say anything like that. Instead, he patiently listened. When I was done, we both stayed silent for a while. Finally, Joe asked a question. "You're not gonna tell anyone. Right, Maxine?" I wrapped my arms around my legs. This place was freezing. "I don't know how," I whispered. "Because they wouldn't believe you?" "You believe me, right?" I carefully asked. Joe smiled. He did believe me, I could feel that but that wasn't all. He was eerily calm. As if none of the things I just told him were odd at all. "We could call the police," he offered but it didn't feel sincere. Then he smiled again. "But we're not. Because you saw her. And you felt it. You felt that she wasn't right. That she wasn't quite done yet, but pretty close to human, yeah?" I looked at the guy who had been one of my best friends this past year. The person I had run to after I didn't know where else to go. I swallowed. "Don't worry," Joe continued. "Some need time to adjust. It took me a little bit but now I feel absolutely, perfectly real." My breathing became slower, and his eyes were fixated on mine. *Dun dun du du dun* The strange sound pulled me away from this trance I'd fallen into. The same sound I had heard coming from my doppelganger. This time it was coming from Joe's phone. He got up to pick it up and I used that moment to jump up and run towards the door. He grabbed my arm just before I could and said one more thing. "She is the better version of you." Then he let me go. He didn't follow. \-- I didn't tell anyone about what had happened. Joe didn't say it that specifically but I knew what he had meant. Telling anyone wouldn't do any good, it might only harm more people. I moved back to my parents. In the beginning, they asked a lot of questions but they've given up now. All they know is that something traumatic must have happened to me. Slowly, I am coming back to my senses. I know that I didn't imagine any of that but there are still so many questions that I can't answer. Like why would they want my life and what are they going to do with it? I also keep wondering if there is a real Joe still walking around somewhere or if he got rid of him. The other thing is that I keep hearing that jingle. The other day I swore I heard it in the supermarket, later a kid played it from their phone, and then I heard it on the television. This isn't just about me, and I can't stop wondering who else around me [has been replaced.](https://www.reddit.com/r/Likeeyedid/)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17d622l/my_neighbor_is_trying_to_ruin_my_life/

nosleep

likeeyedid

A Serial Killer is Copying Horror Movies Part 5

Part 1: [https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1796yuq/a\_serial\_killer\_is\_copying\_horror\_movies/](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1796yuq/a_serial_killer_is_copying_horror_movies/) ​ Part 4: [https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17cgzs8/a\_serial\_killer\_is\_copying\_horror\_movies\_part\_4/](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17cgzs8/a_serial_killer_is_copying_horror_movies_part_4/) ​ Vivi and I sat across from Jordan’s hospital bed. The doctors said he should be alright. He only suffered cuts and bruises. The killer hadn’t hit him in the back of the head, like the other victims. They’d used chloroform. They were learning. They didn’t want Jordan to die from a hit that was meant to render them unconscious, like what happened to Dylan and the Exorcist victim. I had gotten a call from the asshole ME and he confirmed it, another brain hemorrhage. In that girl’s case, I was glad she was dead before the killer got to work, undressing her and dressing her in what they’d brought, posing her like a cheap haunted house prop. “The last thing I remember was unlocking my front door,” Jordan said. “Then I woke up in that bathroom.” “With Paul?” I asked. “Paul and the man.” Vivi and I shared a look. “What man?” I asked. “A man wearing a black hood,” Jordan said. He was still groggy. The doctors had given him something for the shock. “A pig.” “A pig mask,” Vivi said. “Jigsaw’s helpers wear them in the movies. They kidnap people.” I rolled my eyes. “I hate horror movies.” “Don’t blame the movies,” Vivi said. “Blame the crazy guy who’s bringing them to life.” I leaned in to Jordan’s bed. He looked bad. Groggy. Pale. Sedated and anxious at the same time. “What makes you think it was a man.” “He had a very deep voice,” Jordan whispered, looking around nervously as if the killer could walk into the room at any moment. “Probably a voice changer,” Vivi said. “Like the killers in Scream. Jigsaw’s copycats use them in the sequels and—” “Vivi,” I said. “Maybe you should wait in the hall.” “Fine,” Vivi said. “If you don’t want my help—” “I do want your help,” I said. “And you’re helping a lot, but I shouldn't even be here. The only reason the doctors haven't kicked me out is because I'm the sheriff." “Alright,” Vivi said. She walked out of the room and shut the door. I turned back to Jordan. Part of the reason why I asked Vivi to step out of the room was because I didn’t want her to hear what Jordan would say next. “What happened to Paul?” Jordan’s eyes met mine. They were wide with what could only be fear. I could practically hear his heart pounding. His breaths became quick and shallow and strained. “He kicked Paul awake,” Jordan said. “He was worried he’d used to much to knock him out. But Paul came around. The guy walked around the room, looking at everything. The lights. A clock on the wall. He was angry it didn’t look perfect. He brought someone else in too. Unconscious. Wearing black clothes. He set him down next to me and put this metal thing next to it. He’d painted it to look like something you put on the toilet.” Suddenly, I wanted Vivi in the room after all. This was becoming very confusing, very quickly. There had been no unconscious guy in the bathroom, only Jordan and Paul. Was there something like that in the movie? “He wanted me to smash his head with the thing,” Jordan said. “He told me it was meant to be the lid of the toilet tank, but that he tried smashing something with one and it broke too easily. It had to be like in the movie, he said. I had to kill the unconscious man with it by smashing his…but he said not yet. He said that, in the movie, the doctor cut his foot off and dragged himself to the other side of the room. So he walked over to Paul and he…he handed him a saw.” Jordan kept going. His voice was a whisper again. Every time he took one of his shallow breaths, his whole body shook. “It’s alright, Jordan,” I said, reaching out to grab him by the shoulders. “You don’t have to tell me this now. Just rest. Just try to calm down.” But Jordan ignored me. He kept talking, as if I hadn’t said anything at all. “He had a gun. He pointed it at Paul and told him to cut his foot off at the ankle. Paul was really calm. I don’t know how. Paul told the man that, if he did what he wanted, he’d bleed to death very quickly. ‘In one or two minutes,’ he said. The man didn’t care. He told Paul he’d live if he did what he asked. All he had to do was crawl to me then crawl outside, and the man would cauterize his wound and he’d live.” Jordan took a deep breath. I was glad that he paused, and glad that he was breathing a little more regularly now. “Paul said no. He tried to tackle the man. He almost got his gun. Almost. The man got very angry. He took a blackjack out of his robe.” I shuddered. If you don’t know what a a blackjack is, they’re retractable metal batons with a very hard tip. You can kill someone with them very easily, depending on where you hit them. They’re illegal in our state. “He hit Paul. Paul went limp. Then the man tied a blue shirt around Paul’s ankle and—” “I know what he did next,” I said. “You don’t have to tell me.” Jordan nodded. “There was a lot of blood. A lot. That worried him. He tried to stop it by pulling the shirt tighter, but it didn’t work. Then he started checking for a pulse, started doing chest compressions. But Paul was dead. Even I knew that.” I took a deep breath. It felt like I hadn’t breathed since Jordan started talking. “The man started shouting. He broke a mirror. He walked over to me and took the unconscious man out of the room. Then he walked back in, dragged Paul over to me, and left. I thought I heard him whisper something before he left.” “Game over,” Vivi said. “What did I tell you?” I asked. Vivi was pale. Her eyes wide. “Yeah,” Jordan said. “That sounds about right.” “From the movie?” I asked. Vivi nodded. The doctors gave Jordan something so that he’d sleep, and Vivi and I walked out of the hospital, into my car, and drove home. We didn’t talk the rest of the day. Whatever illusions I had about this being fun, about a sheriff and her daughter teaming up to catch a killer, were a distant memory. This was ugly. It made me sick. I scrolled through the “horror” category on Netflix and I had to run across the room and puke in the kitchen sink. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to watch another horror movie again. I can tell that Vivi feels something similar. I asked her a few questions, mostly about the unconscious man that the man wearing a pig mask wanted Jordan to kill. She just told me to read about Saw online. She sent me a link to a wiki. I couldn’t even look at it. Maybe someone can explain what the reference was in the comments. I’m having a hard time reading them either, especially the ones telling me to look at Vivi or her boyfriend as suspects. She’s my daughter, not a character in a movie. There’s no twist because there’s no writer. This is real, as much as I wish that it weren’t. I raised Vivi. She and Chris are my life. Which is why this next part took me so long to write. Vivi said she wanted me to drive her over to her dad’s. At the time, it seemed like a great idea. Mark had been blowing my phone up with dozens of missed calls, asking me where Vivi daughter was and, when I told him that she was with me, he said that that’s exactly what he was afraid of. He’d heard about Paul, of course. He knew about a few of the other ones too. But he didn’t know they were done by the same person, like most people in town. I hadn’t shared the horror movie references. As far as they were concerned, there was a string of strange murders taking place, culminating in Paul and Jordan being kidnapped and tortured. I drove Vivi over and dropped her off a few houses down. I didn’t want to see Mark. I was afraid I’d punch him if I did. “Be careful, Mom,” Vivi said. “The killer always goes after the detective in the movies.” “I’m not a detective,” I said. “I’m a sheriff/police chief. Remember?” Vivi smiled at that. It was a weak smile. Not one of her best, but I was glad to see it. The next morning, I woke up to the my door practically banging off its hinges. Someone was knocking on my front door frantically. I opened it to see Monica. She rushed into my apartment, pushing past me. What was she doing here? She’s always down at the station doing…oh no. Something happened. Something bad. Really bad. “Where were you?” she asked. “I fell asleep,” I said, reaching for my phone. I’d left it on the couch, under a cushion. The screen lit up with about a million calls from Mark, Monica, and practically everyone else in town. “Don’t say it,” I said. Monica covered her mouth. Her hands were shaking. Her eyes full of tears. She said the very thing I was dreading. I thought that, because I knew it was coming, the words wouldn’t be that bad. I was wrong. The fact that I’d guessed them, that I’d imagined Monica saying them in my worst nightmares, just made it all ten times worse. A hundred times. A million times. “It’s Vivi,” Monica said. “They think she's going to pull through…” I pushed past her and ran outside. Monica drove me to Mark’s. I was glad she did. I would’ve ran every red light, would’ve slammed into every car in front of mine, would've tried running through everything in my way. Instead, I just sat in the passenger’s seat, looking dead ahead. In a daze. Sedated. Terrified and numb at the same time. We pulled up to Mark’s house. I stepped out. Mark rushed me immediately, slamming me against Monica’s car. Slapping me across the face. Shouting in my ear. “You did this,” he said. “This is your fucking fault.” My deputies pulled him off me. One of them, Trevor, pinned Mark on the ground and threw cuffs around his wrists. “Let him go,” I said. Trevor got off Mark, but Mark didn’t move. He just lay there, burying his face into the grass and sobbing. I walked upstairs, went into Vivi’s room, ignored the horror movie posters on the walls…and saw a pair of EMTs rolling her out on a stretcher with an oxygen mask on her nose and mouth. She was wet and wearing nothing but the towels they’d wrapped her in. But she was awake, her eyes half-open. The EMTs kept tapping her on the face, kept telling her to stay awake. “She’s alive,” I said. “She’s okay. Is she…will she…” “Ma’am, we need to wait for the blood work to know for sure.” I rode in the ambulance with Vivi and Monica. The EMTs filled me in. Mark heard a noise and saw someone jump out the window. He found Vivi in the bathtub, unconscious. The EMTs told us that she wasn’t out for long, as far as they can tell. For the next few hours, I sat in Vivi’s hospital room, waiting for her to get back. The doctor said they’d flush her stomach, run some tests, start her off on an IV drip. One of my deputies found a sleeping pill bottle on Vivi’s bedroom floor. They brought Vivi in. Still groggy. She was in and out. It’s a small town. They know me and they know her. The doctors are good and they watched her closely. Her blood work came back. Sleeping pills. Higher dose than recommended but not lethal. She should make a full recovery. No signs of brain damage, no respiratory depression, and she didn’t ingest any water or vomit. “You’ll be alright,” I said, kissing Vivi on the forehead. Chris and I sat together through most of it. He was quiet. Distant. His phone was out and unlocked. He scrolled through it, staring past the screen, eyes unfocused and glazed. His phone screen kept turning off. Going into sleep mode. Chris would bring it up to his face and unlock it, only to stare past it once again. Then it locked up, and he’d do it again. We held hands. We hugged each other, and cried, and hovered over Vivi while she slept. Chris kept asking the doctors if it was okay for her to sleep. He wanted her to be awake. The doctors said all the sleeping pills were out of her system. That she needed rest, oxygen, and the IV. Chris didn’t like the oxygen. He told me he’d only seen it in movies, when someone was about to die. My phone buzzed. A photo message. I unlocked my phone and opened it. It was a photo of Vivi’s bathtub, sent by one of my deputies. They’d drained the water out and found something on the bottom. Knives. My first thought was that it was knives. But it wasn’t. It was a glove. The thumb was normal, but the other four fingers were knives. The bastard. That fucking bastard. “It happened just now!” Monica shouted, rushing into the room. “What?” I asked. “The glove?” “What glove?” Monica ask. “No! It’s Jake Marino.” “My daughter’s boyfriend?” I stood up so fast, my head swam. “He did this?” “No. I don’t know! I don’t think so. His parents were out but a neighbor saw a man running out of the driveway. He called us and a deputy went in and…” “What?” “They said he was killed in bed.” “Stay with Vivi,” I told Monica. I walked out of my daughter’s hospital room I don’t even remember driving there. I only remember walking into Jake Marino’s room and seeing the blood. I’d never seen so much blood before. It was all over the bed, on the floor, on the walls. There was a lot of it on the ceiling, too. There was a hole in the bed. Deputies and the asshole ME were standing around it, looking like they were gonna be sick. “We didn’t know if we should wait for you,” one of them said. I shone my flashlight into the hole. Jake Marino was inside. I don’t know horror movies, not even famous ones. I’ll need your help for this one, Reddit. Tell me what movies he referenced. It has to be two, right? Maybe if we find out, we can solve this somehow, but without Vivi’s help…I’m lost. I’m tired. And I just want this to be done. Thank you all. I’ll post again tomorrow, if I can. Part 6: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17f0n41/a\_serial\_killer\_is\_copying\_horror\_movies\_part\_6/?utm\_source=share&utm\_medium=web2x&context=3

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dd21c/a_serial_killer_is_copying_horror_movies_part_5/

nosleep

MidnightPaper

The Cursed Contest Tapes Part 6: Trick 'R Treat

[A Mission](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/qjwp3f/im_a_research_assistant_with_some_stories_to_tell/) Cursed Tapes: [Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/115ba99/the_cursed_contest_tapes/) [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/11d7unm/the_cursed_contest_tapes_part_2/) [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/13nnw6c/the_cursed_contest_tapes_part_3/) [Another Mission](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1492den/im_a_research_assistant_with_some_stories_to_tell/) Cursed Tapes: [Part 4](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/152fo0p/the_cursed_contest_tapes_part_4/) [Part 5](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/15zz8ql/the_cursed_contest_tapes_part_5/) [The Mission In The Rain](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16pkqv8/records_from_a_research_assistant_the_mission_in/) [My Last Post](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16w0tca/records_from_a_research_assitant_the_game_in_the/) ​ ​ I hope everyone’s October is going well. Mine’s been eventful and yet also more relaxing than I expected, all things considered. The next day after I made my last post, Brice and Sheila bombarded me with calls and texts. I don’t mean to be rude, but Sheila can get a bit overprotective. Her mom has told me she gets it from her dad. ​ ​ Although, it’s understandable in this case. She and Brice managed to convince me to stay with them for a few days. I brought Herbie along who’s been doing good. However, he has gotten kind of annoying when I’m trying to research. Then he decides the most comfortable place to be is in front of my screen. I know he just wants attention and I have gotten him to jump on my lap instead. ​ ​ That way he’s less obstructing. Staying with my friends did feel good after being stuck in that town for so long. They even helped me set up my Halloween decorations so you know, that's one less thing I need to do. Unfortunately, there are things they are not able to help me with. A case in point is a video I received the morning after they left. ​ ​ Unlike the others, this one came in my email. l have two. One is for personal use, friends, subscriptions, and things of that nature. The other is my job email which is supposed to be untraceable back to me. Yet, somehow the other day I found a file in it not from work or anyone I know with my full name attached. ​ ​ The name of the sender was "Forgotten Friend". Before I clicked the link, I made sure to switch to one of my old shitty laptops just in case of some unforeseen hazards. Clicking it, caused a file to auto-download and in it was a single video titled “Trick "R Treat”. Below is a transcript. ​ ​ **\[As the name implies, the events within it take place sometime in the 80s based on which costumes were most popular as well as certain commercials shown\]** ​ ​ *The main focus is a young boy, estimated age eleven or twelve, named Bobby and his dog, a German shepherd rottweiler mix called Onyx. The events in the tape take place on Halloween and begin with Bobby on the bus ride to go home. It pulls into his neighborhood, showing houses covered in decorations and some residents sitting outside, carving pumpkins. The bus pulls to a stop, then Bobby and some other students get off. When he gets up to the door, arguing can be heard inside as well as a baby crying.* ​ ​ *Bobby hesitates for a moment and then steps inside. The arguing appears to be financially related. In particular, it relates to Bobby’s sibling who is implied to be dealing with medical issues. The parents also talk about paying off bills having to do with their second-born child. They cease their arguing upon noticing Bobby coming into the living room.* ​ ​ **Bobby:** “Is everything alright?” ​ ​ *His mother clears her throat. Since her name is not given, she will be referred to as Bobby’s Mother, or BM for short. His father will be referred to as BF.* ​ ​ **BM:** “Yes, sweetie we were just talking about things. How was school?” Unfortunately, there isn't much to go on in this video. No locations or even last names are mentioned which means tracking down anyone shown in it will be difficult. I'm not sure why this one was sent to me. Dean and Stella aren't sure either. I can't shake this idea that there's something in it that's directed at me personally. **BM**: “Did you get any homework?” **Bobby:** “No.” ​ ​ *His father joins the conversation.* ​ ​ **BF:** “That means you’re Halloween is completely free, lucky you.” **Bobby:** “Actually, I was wanting to talk to you guys about that.” **BF:** “What about it?” **Bobby:** “I wanted to spend the night at Kerry’s.” ​ ​ *His parents consider his request.* ​ ​ **BF:** “Well, it is a weekend. Did you and him already talk about this?” **Bobby:** “Yeah, I told him I’d check with you both first. Then we’d go to his place after we were done trick-or-treating.” **BM:** “Do his parents check candy?” ​ ​ *Bobby groans.* ​ ​ **Bobby:** “Mom!” **BM:** “I’m just saying. You can never be too careful, nowadays. There’s some sick people out there.” **BF:** “I’m sure he’ll be fine. Let him have his fun.” **Bobby:** “So that’s a yes then?” ​ ​ *He looks at his mother who caves in and reluctantly agrees.* ​ ​ **BM:** “Alright, but be careful in the street. You know how crazy the drivers are around here.” **Bobby:** “I will. Don’t worry.” ​ ​ *The footage goes dark and then resumes, several hours later as indicated by the now-dark sky.* ​ ​ *Bobby is wearing a Spider-man costume and is getting ready to head out. Before he gets to the door, there is a high-pitched hum that comes from the TV. He stops and goes to his parents to inform them that there is something wrong with their television. He gets to the kitchen where his mother is filling a bowl with candy and his father is carving a pumpkin.* ​ ​ **Bobby:** “Dad?” ​ ​ *His dad doesn’t respond.* ​ ​ **Bobby:** “Dad?” ​ ​ *He attempts to tap him on the shoulder. When his fingers make contact three is a bright spark and he is shocked. He cries out in pain and pulls his arm back. He tries yelling for his father to no avail. Calling for his mother yields similar results.* ​ ​ *Upon further inspection, he realizes that his parents appear to be frozen in time. Supporting evidence of this is the fact water is coming from the sink, but not flowing. Panicked now, he screams at his parents and once again is ignored. A new noise comes from the TV, which he initially thinks is only static. Listening further, he realizes his name is being spoken.* ​ ​ I’ll let you take a wild guess of who it was. ​ ​ *He goes back to the television and sees the image of Ludus on the screen.* ​ ​ **Ludus:** “Hey, Bobby, what’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” ​ ​ *Bobby’s breathing is rapid and he attempts to flee only to find the door stuck.* ​ ​ **Ludus:** “That won’t help you. Everything will return mostly to normal once our conversation is concluded. The sooner you cooperate, the sooner you can leave.” ​ ​ *Bobby reluctantly lets go of the knob and turns back to face the screen.* ​ ​ **Bobby:** “What is it that you want? I don’t have any money.” ​ ​ *Ludus lets out a low chuckle.* ​ ​ **Ludus:** “I have no use for such things, but you do, don’t you?” **Bobby:** “How do you know that?” **Ludus:** “My knowledge is vast. For instance, it’s not fair that your kind parents are struggling. Is it? What if I told you I had the means to help out your family?” **Bobby:** “ Does that include, (beep)?” ​ ​ *Presumably, Bobby is referring to his sibling. For some reason, their name is censored.* ​ ​ **Ludus:** “Of course, however, you can choose to decline my offer. All you have to do is say the word and you can dismiss me as a mere figment of your imagination.” **Bobby:** “If I say no, will I ever see you again?” **Ludus:** “You might, but I may not be able to make you the same offer. If something happens, are you okay with squandering the opportunity to prevent it?” **Bobby:** “What game did you have in mind?” **Ludus:** “I understand during this time of year some of your kind engage in the past time known as trick-or-treating. Is that correct?” **Bobby:** “What about it?” **Ludus:** “The contest would be that if you can get candy from all participating homes before midnight, you win.” ​ ​ *Bobby is about to say yes and stops himself by asking another question.* ​ ​ **Bobby:** “What’s the catch?” **Ludus:** “You’re more perceptive than I thought. If you must know, I would be taking a form only you can perceive for the duration of this game and pursuing you. I wouldn’t appear at the beginning somewhere I could easily get to you so don’t worry about that.” **Bobby:** “I’d have to avoid you while trying to get to all the houses?” **Ludus:** “Correct.” ​ ​ *Bobby weighs his options and draws in a breath.* ​ ​ **Bobby:** “You’re on.” **Ludus:** “Excellent, may the best player win.” ​ ​ *Ludus vanishes from the screen and then knocking comes from the front door. Bobby, who is in shock from what he just witnessed, doesn’t answer it.* ​ ​ **BM:** “Bobby, get the door!” ​ ​ *Bobby snaps out of his shock and opens it to find Kerry standing on their front porch in a Batman costume.* ​ ​ **Kerry:** “Are you feeling okay? You look kinda pale.” **Bobby:** “What? Oh yeah, I just have a bit of a head cold going on. I’m still good to go out. I thought we were going with a Marvel theme?” **Kerry:** “My parents got me the wrong costume, sorry. Anyway, the others are waiting. Come on.” ​ ​ *Bobby follows Kerry and then they head up the street to meet with their friend group. Once they are all together, they initiate trick-or-treating. The whole time they are walking, Bobby is looking around. He does so discreetly to minimize unwanted attention to himself. At first, the game goes in his favor.* ​ ​ *He and his friends are able to visit several homes without interruption. This changes at the fourth house. The door opens to a woman in a fairy costume. As she passes out candy, Bobby glances past her and notices a figure standing in her home. In short, it has the appearance of a stick figure straight out of a child’s drawing. It waves to him. Its movements resemble something out of a flipbook animation.* ​ ​ Now the game was truly underway. Sensing my tension, Herbie jumped onto my lap and began purring. Not taking my eyes off the screen, I scratched him behind the ears. ​ ​ *The lady at the door hands him a Snickers bar. He snatches it and tells her thanks, then hurries over the the next house with his friends racing after hum.* ​ ​ **Kerry:** “Hey, Bobby, what’s the rush?” ​ ​ *Bobby rushes to the next home, pushing past some other kids, and rapidly pushes the doorbell, People behind complain. He apologizes and tells them it’s an emergency. This time a man in a Dracula costume answers the door and passes out Hershy’s. Bobby gets his and checks for the stick figure seeing it now in front of the previous house.* ​ ​ *While it is only walking, its movement is slow. Bobby goes to the next house, this time reaching it without having to barge past anyone else. When he gets his candy, this time a Butterifner, he once again checks on the stick figure. Its speed seems to have increased, albeit not by much. Inferring, what this means, Bobby breaks away from his friends.* ​ ​ *Kerry grabs him by the arm.* **Bobby:** “Let me go, now.” **Kerry:** “No, you’ve been acting weird all night.” ​ ​ *The rest of their friends agree with him.* **Kerry:** “What is going on with you?” **Bobby:** “I just need to take care of something. I promise I’ll meet up with you all later.” ​ ​ *The stick figure is getting closer. Bobby yanks himself out of Kerry’s grasp and then sprints down the street with his friends calling after him.* ​ ​ I had an idea of what Bobby’s strategy was. I could only hope it would work. ​ ​ *Bobby doesn’t stop until he’s at the end of their neighborhood. For a while, his plan is successful as he is able to collect candy without being pursued by the stick figure. He even manages to collect candy at the final house where his friends happen to be at.* ​ ​ **Kerry:** “There you are. Where have you been and why did you bail on us like that?” **Bobby:** “Sorry, it’s a long story, but now let’s head to…” ​ ​ *He stops and his breathing increases. The stick figure is still after him only this time it’s significantly faster. In addition to this, its limbs have also grown and have a noodle-like quality.* ​ ​ **Bobby:** “I-I don’t understand.” **Kerry:** “What? Dude, quit acting weird.” *Bobby suddenly gasps.* **Bobby:** “My house.” **Kerry:** “Huh?” **Bobby:** “How could I forget about my own fucking house?” ​ ​ *Before Kerry can inquire about anything else, Bobby is down the street once again. This time the stick figure is not far behind. He nearly gets hit by a car. The driver slams on the brakes and honks their horn at him which he pays no mind.* ​ ​ *Every so often, he’ll look back at the stick figure as it passes through solid objects. Judging by the scattering kids, he didn't have long until midnight.* ​ ​ It was down to the wire. As I felt my heart rate climb, I once again petted Herbie who was also now fixated on my laptop screen. ​ ​ *Nearly out of breath, Bobby reaches his house and bursts in through the back door. His mother is in the kitchen.* ​ ​ **BM:** "Sweetie, I thought you were going to Kerry's?" **Bobby:** "I am, but where's the rest of the candy?" **BM:** "Getting devoured by your father in the living room probably. Don't you have enough?" ​ ​ *Bobby sprints away from the kitchen with his mother yelling at him not to run. He makes it to the living room where his dad is sitting with the candy bowl in his lap. He unwraps a Reese's. He turns and smiles upon seeing Bobby.* ​ ​ **BF:** "Hey, how'd the candy haul go? Are you still going to Kerry's?" **Bobby:** "Dad, I need a piece of candy from you quick!" ​ ​ *Although he is confused, his father shrugs and extends the bowl to him. As he reaches in, the stick figure's appendage closes around his wrist.* ​ ​ It isn't fair. He was so close. He was so goddamn close to being the one to finally win against it. As I watched in dejection, Herbie let out a sad meow. Now, all we could do was watch what horrible fate would befall Bobby. ​ ​ *Time slows once more. The stick figure vanishes and Ludus reappears on the TV screen.* ​ ​ **Ludus:** "Don't be too hard on yourself. The effort you displayed was commendable." **Bobby:** "No, that's not fair. I got the last piece of candy before it had me. **Ludus:** "Is that so? Then let's see those last moments. Shall we?" ​ ​ *Ludus is replaced with a scene showing Bobby in the stick figure. It zooms in on his hand, showing him grabbing a handful of candy right as the stick figure grabs him. Then it returns to Ludus.* ​ ​ **Ludus:** "A tie then." **Bobby:** "What does that mean for me? ​ ​ *Ludus thinks about this.* ​ ​ **Ludus:** "Well, seeing as how you were such a good challenge I will make you a deal. I will fulfill your desire on the condition that you pick something of vital importance to lose." **Bobby:** "Something important?" **Ludus:** "Correct and once it's gone nobody will have ever remembered it." ​ ​ *Bobby glances down and sees his hands trembling.* ​ ​ **Bobby:** "What if I refuse this?" **Ludus:** "The game has to take something away. If you don't decide I will." **Bobby:** "Could I get some time to decide?" ​ ​ *Ludus is annoyed but complies with his request. Bobby looks at his parents and then towards the stairs.* ​ ​ **Bobby:** "I know what I'm going to pick." **Ludus:** "Really? Do tell. What shall be taken away?" **Bobby:** "Me." ​ ​ I don't know why, but for some reason at this point, I felt something wet run down my face. I'd never been this way with any of the other tapes. Hell, I couldn't even tell you the last time I cried before that. ​ ​ **Ludus:** "You? Wouldn't that defeat the purpose of my offer?" **Bobby:** "No, I wasn't planned anyway and \[Beep\] needs both of our parents. I'm…I'm okay with this." *The person Bobby is referring to is presumably his sibling. Their name is censored. The reason for this is currently unknown.* ​ ​ **Ludus:** "If that is your desire then so it shall be." ​ ​ *Pink light emits from the television accompanied by a hum and the room shaking. Bobby stares from his parents to the stairs once again.* ​ ​ **Bobby:** "Sorry I messed up everyone. Take care!" ​ ​ *The footage goes to black. Audio can be heard of what sounds like people sobbing before also cutting out.* ​ ​ Unfortunately, there isn't much to go on in this video. No locations or even last names are mentioned which means tracking down anyone shown in it will be difficult. I'm not sure why this one was sent to me. Dean and Stella aren't sure either. I just can't shake this idea that something in it is directed at me personally. ​ ​ Oh yeah, speaking of Stella, she was able to get a new puppy from Brice and Sheila after all which means I can at least conclude this post on somewhat of a positive note. Maybe seeing pictures of Stella and Rocky will keep me from thinking about Ludus or that Bobby kid. ​ ​ This is [Zane,](https://www.reddit.com/r/StoriesFromRose/) logging [off.](https://www.threads.net/@rose_black2222)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dpgoh/the_cursed_contest_tapes_part_6_trick_r_treat/

nosleep

RoseBlack2222

If you wake up to a bang in the middle of the night, please go back to sleep.

I woke up to a loud bang - the kind that jolts your brain awake, setting off the forces of fight-or-flight, leaving all reasonable thoughts straggling, the synapses encumbered by total panic. The dream I’d had floated away as reality desperately pushed through. In zombielike half-consciousness I struggled to piece together the direction of the sound, but my mind insisted it had come from everywhere at once. I checked the bedside tables for things that might have fallen, and the floors for anything broken. I found no evidence of either. I began to walk through my house, waking up the different rooms by switching the lights on as I went. Hallway. Kitchen. Living room. Bathroom. They all seemed untouched, and like innocent bystanders, they joined in on my confusion. Completely awake by then, I decided to get a glass of water and sit down for a moment. My mind had mostly bounced back to its default, reality-based mode of operations, and the alertness of awakeness had overtaken me. I decided to stay up for a moment. Sleep wouldn’t come for a while, anyway, and the sound might’ve simply been a product of the now forgotten dream. But I wanted to be sure that everything was fine. Behind me, outside the house, I heard an echoing screech, as if something screamed for its last breath, both asking for help as well as alerting others of the danger they’ve come upon. Although it wasn’t a bang, I immediately thought that the two sounds must be related; they were both harsh and unusual. I quickly got up and looked out the window. Nothing moved in the faint light of the moon, but in the distance lay the darkness of the forest. In that black forest dwell animals, hunters, and sometimes even campers. It was surprisingly popular for being in the middle of nowhere, but then again, such dense forests were a rarity in this part of the country. Now, were it *surely* just an animal, I would’ve let it go. I don’t interfere with nature. But I had lived in that house for years, and I’d never before heard such a screech. Not that I could say with certainty that it was human, either, but I felt it to be my duty to investigate. And with all the possible explanations and their corresponding uncertainties swirling in my mind as question-marked patterns, sleep wouldn’t come for a long while anyway. I grabbed a torch, put on my boots and coat, and headed out. Outside the treeline, the torch worked alongside the moonlight, giving a clear view of where it was pointed, but even outside its gaze I could make out the grassy terrain. Once I stepped into the forest, it was a different story. All natural light was quenched of its prowess, and the beam of the torch was precisely defined, showing its contents in yellowish hue, and leaving the rest black and unmapped, the half-visible branches of the trees like claws desperately trying to penetrate the light. I’d learned how to traverse the woodland quite well, and I even had an instinctual map of the bigger roots and rocks, which my legs avoided with ease as I walked. Frankly, I was somewhat surprised at my own aptitude, but grateful as well. If there was someone in the woods, I’d be sure to find them. I walked instinctually, allocating my thoughts to what I might find, and depending on the answer, what I should do. If it was people, I could show them back to my house, and were they in need of help, I could call an ambulance. In the case of an animal, I could hopefully muster a mercy-kill, or call the local animal control center to come assess the situation. Man or animal, neither seemed like a good option, but even if it was nothing at all, I knew it’d weigh on my conscience not to have investigated. As I went deeper into the forest it only got darker, and I had to reallocate most of my efforts into assessing my surroundings. I usually didn’t walk that far, so my instinct-based map of the forest floor was no longer of much help. I had to slow down my pace to keep myself from getting snagged on roots and branches. Soon the air started to feel colder, and I could see my breath coming out as puffs in the beam of the torch. The treetops sometimes gave way to splatters of the sky - like a dark and dead Pollock painting - through which I could glimpse at the outside like a prisoner. My ears were perked in search of sounds - ruffling, walking, voices - yet they found nothing at all. Something seemed off, as even sleeping forests are never completely quiet. It was like someone had muted it. I wasn’t sure if it had been like this since I started walking, but the act of noticing the quietness itself seemed to point to the opposite. Something *made* it quiet. Soon I walked into a small clearing surrounded by an unusually circular set of trees. Their branches made their best effort to block out the sky, but the clearing was large enough that they couldn’t quite entangle, leaving a more or less round snippet of the sky open, the silver moonlight eagerly piercing through it. As I stared at the illuminated trees, wondering if I should simply head back, my ears reported a sound. Like the bang that woke me up, it sounded like it was coming from everywhere at once. It sounded like clicks at first, like rocks thrown on rocks; *click… clickck… clack…* but it quickly picked up in speed until it sounded like small hammers carving rocks. Hastily I looked around me, pointing the torch between the trees, but I couldn’t see anything. “Hello?” I said, my voice cracking as it tried to recover from a half-night of sleep. The clicks came closer, and I realized that all the trees looked the same now, and I could no longer be sure of where I’d come from. My instincts had failed me and panic began to set in as I tried to retrace my steps. The clicking came closer and closer, louder and louder. I spotted some branches I was sure were broken by my boots. Yes, they *must* have been my doing. I walked towards them as the clicking became almost unbearably loud, monopolizing the freezing airspace with its unnaturalness. Once I was sure that I’d found my path back home, the forest became silent again. Maybe because it was the only place I hadn’t looked yet, I slowly turned my torch upwards, following its beam in agonizing fright. In the trees, between their myriad black branches, was the head of a donkey. Its beheaded neck was tangled in taut, muscular tendrils that held it mid-air by holding onto the branches. They were oily-wet, dripping with blood and mucus. And the head… *defiled*. Its fleshy eyes shone red. There were no eyelids. Its lips were ripped clean off, leaving a serrated, black edge. And between those lips were its sharp, half-broken teeth, stained in a collage of blacks and browns and reds… and the teeth began to chatter, its jaws like jack drills. *ClickicliCLiclickliCK*. I pointed my torch forwards and ran. The chattering followed me, and once again, it seemed to come from all sides. I dared not look backwards in case I’d lose my footing, but I could hear it brushing along the treetops, its slick tendrils whipping at the branches as the head swung like a monkey, rustling the trees at its beckoning. There was only one direction which led out of the forest, and I prayed I was on it. As I ran, there was no instinct, no familiarity with the terrain. But I had to get out, and there was no time to assess. No time to think. Soon I could see slivers of light penetrating the trees, and between them, far in the distance, I saw glimpses of my house. The chattering was closing in on me, but somehow I managed to outrun it. That was until I got right to the edge of the woods. Before the pain, I heard a whipping sound. Then came the unbearable sear. One of the tendrils had snapped at my shin, tearing through my pant leg like a knife and going through my flesh until it hit the bone. I could feel the hot blood flowing down my shin as my sock gobbled it up like a sponge. The chattering echoed through the open grass as I limped towards the front door. But that same echo revealed to me that it hadn’t been able to exit the forest. Finally, with excruciating pain as I dragged my torn leg, I made it inside and locked the door behind me. The walls silenced the chattering enough for me to focus on finding the first-aid kit. My leg left a scarily large streak of blood from the front door to the bathroom, where I threw out everything in the cupboard until I spotted the small red pouch with white text. Thankfully, the wound wasn’t wide, so I didn’t need to immediately have it stitched. With some disinfectant and tight bandages I got the worst of the bleeding to stop. As the adrenaline began to wear off, the pain became almost unbearable. But the worst was the chattering. It was still going on, and I felt like the escaped prey of some unholy beast that yearned for nothing more than to feast on my flesh - to finish what it had started. With that thing out there, I couldn’t go to the hospital. The road went alongside the forest, and that was a risk I dared not to take. And I didn’t want to call an ambulance either; I’m not so dense as to subject others to whatever I was hunted by. The only productive action I could think of was to look out the window at the treeline. If it’s to attack, I would at least have a fighting chance if I could see it coming. And so I dragged a chair to the window overlooking the forest, sat down and waited. Nothing moved in the sterile moonlight, but I could hear the chattering in the trees. I waited until the sun came up, and with the light of day, the chattering slowly ceased, like it burrowed into the forest itself, waiting for its next opportunity. My leg started to feel worse during the morning, so I decided I had no choice but to go to the hospital. As I drove, I couldn’t help but stare at the trees more than the road, but it was familiar enough that I could’ve driven it with my eyes shut. The doctor sealed up my leg and gave me some antibiotics. For some reason I was not expecting him to ask *what happened*, but of course he did, and I stammered something about farming equipment. He told me to be more careful, which was sound advice either way. I got back home and the air was neat, filled with birdsong and relaxed wind. The sun put a smile on my face, and I thought that perhaps the previous night didn’t even really happen. The sudden bang that awoke me, along with the screech and the flippant hallucinogenic quality of what had happened seemed to validate the idea. That was two days ago, and the nightmare has, wihtout a doubt, cemented itself as reality. As the sun goes down, everything becomes quiet, and the air turns cold. And from the trees, beginning with light echoes, comes the chatter. I can hear it rustling between the treetops, moving from side to side. The chattering penetrates my body like shellshock, draining me of thought and spirit. When I hear that *clickclickclickclclcl* it feels like a hammer slowly cracking away at my bones, turning them into dust that enters my bloodstream and poisons my body. I’m tired of the questions I’ve asked myself. None have answers. I’m tired because I can’t sleep. I’m tired because I don’t know how to escape. There’s nowhere for me to go, and I’ve found myself relieved only by the artificial hubris of a proud protector; the idea that I will stand my ground and defend what’s mine until there’s nothing left. And that’s really what I’m afraid of - that at the end of all this, there will be nothing left of me.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17d32ti/if_you_wake_up_to_a_bang_in_the_middle_of_the/

nosleep

Adomanzius

Every type of discipline I use against my son just results in more violence.

My son is a good boy. So when cats and dogs started disappearing from the neighborhood, I didn’t ask questions. Good boys like him would never be involved. And if he were, then the insomnia would just prove that he feels guilty about everything. Good boys don’t feel guilty. Besides, he’s only ten years old. So when the Wilkins girl disappeared, I was scared for him and for all of the other decent, well-behaved people on our block. Jilly Wilkins lived in the house right behind us; our backyards share a fence. I can only imagine how terrified my son is. That would also explain the insomnia. I don’t think he ever sleeps. That explains why he got so sloppy. Two different shirts of his made it into the laundry with spots of blood on them. Boys love to roughhouse, and he clearly didn’t even notice that he’d cut himself. So I went to clean his room. That’s when I found the shoebox. My son is a good boy. But even I was scared when I looked under the bed and found it. The smell hit me first, like metal and rot. It was clearly coming from the soggy shoebox. It sagged in the middle, saturated with a brown, crusty stain. It looked like I felt inside. So I didn’t touch it. Out of sight, out of mind. “Hi, Mom.” My heart jackhammered in response to the words. I’d just opened the door to leave his room and found him on the other side. Like he’d been waiting for me. He wasn’t smiling. “You cleaned my room,” he announced. I told him I had. “As a result, I guess I don’t have to hide things anymore.” “What?” “I said I don’t have to clean things anymore. Because you’ll do it for me, right?” I nodded and darted out of the room. Three days later, I hadn’t cleaned his room again, and they still hadn’t found Jilly Wilkins. But his room was starting to smell. Which was to be expected. He was a growing boy who had stopped showering and sleeping. So I eventually had to go in there. I resolved to change his sheets, because that would help with the smell. I didn’t have to look under his bed. Whether that I was because I was afraid or was just telling myself that it wasn’t necessary, it didn’t really matter. My son is a good boy. I had a smile on his face as I pulled his old blankets off the bed, thinking that he might finally get some rest once he had nice, clean sheets to lie down on. The sun was shining across the room as I popped the pillow out of the pillowcase. That’s when it dropped to the floor. I bent down to pick it up quickly, telling myself that I didn’t want to inhale the air beneath the bed. It felt like a cold chicken drumstick in my palm. I shook as I looked down and saw a severed little girl’s finger in my hand. I wanted to let go. I really did. But shock had paralyzed the part of my mind that controlled my hand, and the part that let me close my eyes. I could breathe just fine, though. Crouched down at the bottom of his bed, I inhaled the smell of metal and rot. “You cleaned my room again.” My muscles shot back to life as I dropped the finger, stood up, and turned around. His eyes watched it bounce toward the corner. I struggled for something, anything, to say. “You’ve got blood on your shoulder.” He looked down at his shirtsleeve. “Huh.” He wiped the cotton, staining his fingers red. My son didn’t move as I slid past him out of the room, heart racing. He didn’t seem to mind that I could barely squeeze between him and the doorframe. I ran outside and gasped for air. It was very overcast. From there in the backyard, I could see the Wilkins’s house. I’d heard her mother tried to kill herself after three days. Now what? I couldn’t leave my son. Even if he had done something bad, his still needs his mommy. What am I saying? My son is a good boy. I stared at my watch for 31 minutes and 53 seconds before accepting the fact that time would keep going forward despite the greatest resistance I could offer. I went inside. We ate dinner without words. And then we went to sleep. I was certain that I wouldn’t be able to drift off. For the longest time, I was right. I don’t remember falling asleep. I just remember waking up. It felt like I was being watched. So I reached over in the dark and turned on the light, both afraid to leave it off and terrified of what it might reveal. I pulled the switch, and I saw nothing. I breathed. Wait. I sprang out of bed and glided over to the doorway. There’s something there that wasn’t there before. Blood was smudged against the doorframe. It was exactly at the height of my son’s shoulder. My hands shook. Then I looked down. There, lying on the carpet, was [a tiny finger](https://www.facebook.com/P-F-McGrail-181784199029462/). [BD](https://www.reddit.com/r/ByfelsDisciple/) [W](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcn_pa1QfNMRzbTuJqXSoRQ) [E](https://www.reddit.com/r/TheCrypticCompendium/)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17cz7k8/every_type_of_discipline_i_use_against_my_son/

nosleep

ByfelsDisciple

I Found The Original Chemical X Part 3

Part 1: [https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17b9szw/i\_found\_the\_original\_chemical\_x\_part\_1/](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17b9szw/i_found_the_original_chemical_x_part_1/) Part 2: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17c2872/i\_found\_the\_original\_chemical\_x\_part\_2/ \[Warning/Disclaimer: This story contains references to Nazis and the Imperial Japanese. Reader Discretion is Advised. The Author of this story does NOT support Nazism or Fascism in any form and condemns the acts of Nazism and the Imperial Japanese. All potential forms of hate speech or discrimination are for historical authenticity only and are not reflections of the authors personal views. Additionally, the Author condemns any and all forms of animal abuse.\] I peeked out of the room and scanned around for him. I noticed him poking at the remains of what I believe was a V-2 rocket. I walked over to him as he was kneeling down and said, “Excuse me, Doctor Mobius?” He was slightly surprised by my sudden appearance, but he fixed his interestingly small glasses and said “Huh? Oh, you’re doctor… Oak!” I gave an awkward retort “N-No, I’m doctor Rainer., the historian.” Doctor Mobius got to his feet with a grunt and readjusted his glasses to focus on me and then he said “Ah, Rainer! You know of all the people here, you’re one of the more valuable. I have no idea why they would bring a pharmacist and some pet doctor to this place when all these machines are lying about. As a historian I’m sure you could easily name everything in this room. Would make my job so much easier. It’s taking me ages to even find out what this blasted thing is. I can’t tell if it’s a rocket or parts to a jet engine plane.” I had to interrupt his rambling because I knew he would just go one more if I didn’t “Um, Doctor Mobius, I need to you have a look at something in that room over there.” I pointed to the room next to the operation room. “Ah, found something interesting, eh? Well let’s have a look.” Doctor Mobius replied as he began almost gleefully walking to the room I was in with his hands up in a delighted manner. I followed him. When we got to the room, Mobius looked into the surgery room where the other three doctors were still chipping away. “Oh ho, formaldehyde. Judging from its condition, I’d say it was kept in a cooling or drying device.” Mobius deduced. I looked into the room to see if he was right and sure enough, I noticed from the place the tube originally was, there were fans above and below it. “That explains it.” I said to myself. “Now, Doctor Rainer,” Mobius addressed me “What is it that you have found?” I showed him the old camera and he immediately let out a laugh “Oh ho ho ho! This little thing? Well, I guess you are just the book keeper, let’s see here…” Mobius began fiddling with it. He opened it and confirmed my theory that there was indeed film in it. Mobius then positioned the film properly, did something with the internal mechanisms then closed the camera. “There we go, all fixed up! Projectors like this are a breeze.” Mobius exclaimed. Well, I felt stupid. I thought it was a camera. “Now let’s test this out.” Mobius said as he looked around. He looked up then pulled down a sheet that was tied up on the ceiling. I guess that’s what they used to view these tapes. Mobius motioned for me to come watch, which I did. He positioned the projector and started it up. It made a noise that you’d expect from a projector of this time, though a little more clunky. After a moment of nothing an image finally manifested. A man dressed in full body scrubs from the World War 2 era held a sign with something written in German and Japanese on it. For context there was no sound and the picture was in black and white. Despite my major in European History, I’ve also studied a bit of Japanese and have a fair grasp on the language. The sign read for both “Live Test Number 1, Subject Species: Chimpanzee, Name: Jojo, Experiment: Introduction of Chemical X.” My eyes widened when I saw the name. They widened further when I saw the ape they brought out. It was a small chimpanzee with black fur. Even though the picture was only in black and white, it was easy to tell that the ape’s fur was jet black. They placed it on a table, the same table that Kal and the others were using in the other room. The big kicker was when the scientists set him down on the table, he began to freak out. He started running around and the scientists attempted to coral him. This was only shown for a brief moment, then the scene cut to two scientists holding Jojo down onto the table. A third scientist entered the frame holding a small bottle filled with what I assume was chemical x and a dropper. Though hard to discern as it was at an angle and the quality was absolutely horrible. I could faintly make out the scientist putting some drops onto Jojo, maybe in the eyes or straight into the mouth. After this the ape began convulsing violently. After a good moment Jojo went still, but not limp. The scientists who were holding him down slowly let go as the ape began to move. He sat up and held his head like he is suffering from a headache. After a moment Jojo looked at the scientists and I saw his mouth move, like he was saying something. The scientists stood around him in a defensive position, and one cut the camera feed. I looked ever to Doctor Mobius, but he patted my shoulder and pointed back to the screen. Once again, a scientist held up a sign, but this one said “Live Test Number 3, Species: Chimpanzee, Subject Jojo, Experiment: Reading.” The scientists sat around Jojo who was holding a book. I couldn’t tell what the book was about, but it was thin and had a picture on it, so I deduced at best it was a children’s book. One of the scientists pointed to something on a page and Jojo pointed at it, then they pointed to the table. The feed cut out again and we got a notice on screen that said, “Play Tape 5.” Mobius pushed a button on the projector which stopped the reel. “Let’s find that tape.” He said to me in a more serious tone. I could tell that something was intriguing him deeply about this experiment. I didn’t know if his intentions were pure or not at the time, but I still nodded and agreed to help him look. We scoured the room for the tape. After a few minutes of searching, Mobius found a locked cabinet. He tried to open it with force but couldn’t. “Blast!” He said as he banged his hand on the top of the cabinet. I then got an epiphany and checked in the folder I was investigating. I felt around and found a small pocket. I reached in and pulled out a small key. Mobius looked at me and gave me an approving gesture as I walked to the cabinet. After jimmying the lock for a moment, I finally got the cabinet open. Inside were additional reels, documents and what seemed to be personal items like medals and gloves. I shifted through the tapes and found Tape 5. “Ah, there it is.” Mobius said with delight, “Now where are we going to play this…” The two of us looked around again and quickly spotted a Magnetophon, which is basically a big tape recorder used in World War 2. We put in the proper tape, situated it, made sure it was properly powered and began the tape. To my surprise, the first thing I heard was a man speaking in Japanese. I thought back to the tapes and realized that the men must have been three of the ten members of Unit 731. Even with their allies, the Nazis never failed to exploit people. I’ll now transcribe what was said on the tape. I’ll write it out in order of who and what I hear. 731 Scientist 1: “Live test number 5, subject species; chimpanzee, name; Jojo. Experiment; communication. Good morning, Jojo.” Jojo: “Mojo…” 731 Scientist 1: “Excuse me?” Jojo: “My name… is… Mojo.” 731 Scientist 1: “We must keep your designation for the records. We cannot just change it.” Jojo: “Then… my name… Mojo… Jojo.” At this point I had to abruptly pause the tape and process what I was listening to. This time though I wasn’t alone. So without looking I asked, “Doctor Mobius… do you think-“ He answered immediately “They were interviewing the animal.” I immediately turned to look at him and he was standing there with his hands clamped looking at me. I didn’t even bother to question that he could understand Japanese, but rather I asked, “Are you sure?” Mobius raised an eyebrow at me “Are you asking me because you want the answer, or do you already know and you’re hoping that you’re wrong?” Didn’t peg a roboticist to be a people’s person. He was right though. I was hoping I was wrong. I turned around again and just stood there looking down, trying to internally calm myself down. “It’s not the talking animal that’s bothering you, is it?” I turned around again and looked at him. For a moment I debated in my head if I should tell him the truth, but either way I knew there was no hiding from him. He was good, almost, if not better than me at deduction. I took a deep breath and asked, “Have you ever watched The Powerpuff Girls?” I expected to be ridiculed, confusion, or Mobius to slowly back out of the room like I was crazy. Instead, he smiled and said, “It’s my favorite show.” I was stunned. I mean, would you imagine an old, bald and slightly overweight man with a PhD in robotics and engineering to watch cartoons? I mean sure, he could have watched it when he was younger, but he said it’s his favorite like it’s still fresh in his mind. I was now the one who was confused. Mobius put his hand on my shoulder and said with a cheeky smile “It is strange that a talking chimpanzee would be named Mojo Jojo, isn’t it?” I didn’t know what to say so I just simply nodded. He nodded back then said “Now, let’s keep listening. There’s more to learn.” I nodded again and restarted the tape. 731 Scientist Number 1: \*moment of silence\* “Very well. So, Mojo Jojo, I’m going to ask you some questions. Do you understand?” Mojo Jojo: “Yes…” 731 Scientist Number 1: “Good. Question 1: Who are you?” Mojo Jojo: “I am Mojo Jojo.” \*sounds of pencil on paper\* 731 Scientist Number 1: “Question 2: What are you?” Mojo Jojo: “I am… smarter than you. HAHAHAH-” \*a loud thud followed by a brief scuffle then a shock with a noticeable primate scream followed by a moment of silence\* 731 Scientist Number 2: “Now, answer the question.” Mojo Jojo: \*struggling\* “I am… a chimpanzee.” 731 Scientist Number 1: “Good. Question 3: When were you born?” Mojo Jojo: “I was reborn only a short time ago.” \*moment of silence followed by more sounds of writing\* 731 Scientist Number 1: “Question 4: Where are you?” \*silence\* 731 Scientist Number 2: “Answer the question NOW.” Mojo Jojo: “I have no idea.” 731 Scientist Number 1: “Good. Last question: Why are you here?" Mojo Jojo: “To be experimented on.” \*sounds of writing\* 731 Scientist Number 1: “Ok. That’s all the questions for now. Return the specimen to the cage now.” \*sounds of a door opening and footsteps entering\* Mojo Jojo: “No! You won’t put me back into the cage!” \*sound of chair falling over then chimpanzee screams followed by the breaking of multiple objects\* Unknown Japanese Voice: “He’s getting away! Alert the Germans!” \*further sounds of chaos followed by more footsteps and incoherent voices\* It was at this point that the tape ended abruptly. I was speechless. I looked over to Mobius who was just standing there with his fingers. He seemed to be really thinking about this. Can’t blame him, though I was more shocked than confused myself. It was at that moment that we heard a loud cracking noise from the surgery room. Mobius and I looked though the one-way mirror and saw they got the formaldehyde open. Kal, Oppen and Oak began shifting through the debris while the trench-coat aids began cleaning up the floor. Mobius then went back to the projector and looked inside. “There’s still some film in here. It might take them a moment to clean that up. Care to watch the rest while they clean up in there?” I looked over to him and said “S-Sure.” With a nod he closed the projector and resumed the film. A handful of short clips began showing on screen. For brevity, and so I don’t have to write the same thing repeatedly, I’ll simply write what each experiment is on the sign and briefly summarize what I see. Yes, Mojo Jojo is in every experiment. Ready? Experiment: Building. Mojo Jojo is seen with building blocks. He’s making a small structure. Experiment: Production. Mojo is seen on a mock assembly line. There is a soldier standing behind him and Mojo looks tired. Experiment: Weapon Care. Mojo is seen disassembling and reassembling a weapon. By the end of the clip, he does both withing the span of seconds. Experiment: Weapon Firing. Mojo is seen outside holding a Kar98k with a German soldier behind him, also holding a Kar98k, and another kneeling beside him. After a moment, Mojo readies the gun and fires a few shots. Experiment: Chemistry. Mojo Jojo is seen with a scientist in full scrubs. There are beakers on a table in front of them and a large bowl in the middle. The scientist adds various substances from the beakers into the bowl. At one point Mojo Jojo pushes the scientist violently and he breaks a beaker next to the bowl and it spills over both Mojo and the scientist. The scientist started convulsing and Mojo held his head and screamed, then the feed cut out and the projector stops. That was the last film. Mobius and I didn’t say a word for a few moments after the last feed. We glanced at each other a few times, but that was it. Just us sitting in silence. Eventually though, Mobius got up and walked to the doorway. When he got there, he paused and said, “Keep reading that file.” Then exited. I was left alone in the room, still sitting there. I want to say my mind was racing at this point, but truth be told, it went totally blank. I remember being in shock. It wasn’t until I looked at the file that was still on the table that I snapped out of my trance. I took a deep breath, got up and walked over to it. I opened it and found the next intact file. Turns out it was an incident report. I’ll transcribe it. “February \[REDACTED\] Presiding Overseers: Sigmund Rascher and Surgeon General Shirō Ishii (WIA) (Returned Home) Apes Uprising Incident After the incident of Experiment: Chemistry involving Doctor \[REDACTED\] and the chimpanzee subject “Mojo” Jojo, Doctor \[REDACTED\] was taken hostage by Jojo at 1200 hours who proceeded to barricade himself and Doctor \[REDACTED\] in the specimen holding room. After unsuccessful attempts to open the door by the guards, Jojo was observed to be suffering from severe head trauma which resulted in fits of acute rage and outbursts. An hour into the stand-off at 1230 hours, Doctor \[REDACTED\] was also observed to have mutated into a grotesque abomination of some kind. Jojo took interest in this and released the other simian species which proceeded to devour the mutated body of Doctor \[REDACTED\]. The simians were then observed to show similar symptoms to Jojo when originally dosed with Chemical X. Jojo then took a leader role and instructed the smaller of the simians to go through the airducts which were connected to the armory. The armory’s door was barricaded from the inside by two German guards following this incident after the guard team had retrieved their weapons, effectively preventing anyone from entering or leaving through the door. The simians, however, through the airducts, invaded the room which began a scuffle that resulted in the death of three simians and the two guards locked inside the room. We believe the simians then started transporting the weapons and ammunition through the airducts back to the specimen holding room as soon after the simians were observed to be loading weapons and putting on holsters. At 1300 hours, Jojo started clawing his head and screaming in intense pain. After a few minutes, Jojo had removed his scalp and his brain had erupted out of his skull. He was seen staggering around for a moment before collapsing on the ground and dying. The other simians began screaming and waving their weapons around in a war-like chant. The simians then rushed to the door and removed the barricade. The guard team had set up a defensive perimeter, but no counter barricade had been constructed. When the apes opened the door, the simians rushed the guard team and a firefight ensued which resulted in the deaths of nine guardsmen, the ten Japanese scientists and twelve simians. The simians were noted to specifically target the Japanese scientists as they treated the guardsmen as only obstacles. Surgeon General Shirō Ishii was critically wounded during the fight and has subsequently been removed from this operation and returned to Japan. The remaining simians from within the room began clawing their heads in the same way as Jojo, and soon all suffered the same fate. This is believed to be due to the improper ingestion of diluted Chemical X from the mutated body of Doctor \[REDACTED\]. The bodies of the simians will subsequently be studied and stored for future examination.” After finishing the report, I looked up and saw the others pulling the body out of the formaldehyde I rushed into the room. I didn’t care if I was allowed in or not, I had to see this firsthand. After barging in, everyone stared at me, but I had no room to be embarrassed. I stared at what was on the table. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. Lying there on the table was the corpse of a chimpanzee with green skin and an elongated brain protruding out of its head.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dhv3u/i_found_the_original_chemical_x_part_3/

nosleep

Mercury_Freelancer

The road to New Wilderness [Part 21]

[\[Part 20\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17ci4hc/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_20/) [\[Part 22\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17e0txn/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_22/) Air whistled by me, and my heart dropped right into my guts. *I’m not going to make it.* The rusty red exterior of a car hood swooped up, jagged glass from its windshield gaped wide like a set of crystalline jaws, and I curled my legs closer to myself to brace for impact. *Whack.* I missed the sharp glass of the broken windshield by mere inches, and somehow caught hold of an old windshield-wiper blade, managing to stop myself from rolling off the hood. *Crash.* Glass flew everywhere from half a dozen shattered windows, and sheet metal wrenched with a horrific screech. The tower of scrap I’d been in collapsed onto the one I now lay on, the two colliding just below me at the halfway point of the second tower. Its force rippled through the steel under my back, and like clockwork, the second scrap-car tower began to lean. I could smell unburned diesel on the air, little streams of it leaking from the various military fuel tanks to soak the black tendrils of the nest. Echo Spiders skittered toward my new perch, their lights bathing the area around me, blasting the air with their foghorn wails. *Bwwwooonnnggg.* All four limbs shook from exhaustion, but I forced myself onto my feet, and grabbed hold of a nearby wheel hub for support. The third tower, a heap of mostly panel vans and a school bus, reared closer, and I choked down a whimper of doubt. *That’s further than last time.* In that moment, Jamie’s face flashed through my mind. I’d known her for barely a week, and yet Jamie had been everything Carla never was; the cool older sister who included me instead of using me like an accessory, the charismatic friend who never made me the brunt of her jokes, the loyal companion who would never have skipped my birthday party for a rock concert. She was relying on me to get back, waiting on that ship with Chris in the cold, dark brig. If it were Jamie in my shoes, she would jump, without hesitation. Gritting my teeth, I pushed off the rough, flash-rusted hood of the dilapidated sedan, and lunged forward with all my might. With a roar of grinding metal, the second tower fell in sync with my movements, a rain of shredded iron and glass that decorated my peripheral vision. Wind gushed through my tangled brown tresses, fatigue pulled at my legs, and spotlights tracked me across the gray sky. I was weightless, so high that my heart threatened to stop, but like in the stairwell before, the fear melted away, and all that remained was a singular, chaotic drive. *Almost there . . .* Frigid steel closed over my waist and jerked me downward mid-flight. All the air squeezed from my lungs, as more cables wrapped around my ribcage, and stifled the scream in my throat. Lowering me to its level, the Echo Spider brought me right to the curved, peeling surface of its white satellite dish. One of the cables snaked into my hair, and jerked my head back, bright white light pouring into my eyes in a forceful stream of brilliance. *“Stop.”* The whisper came harsh now, no longer attempting to entice me. Voices raged in my head, screamed at me, berated me, and tore through my memories in a vicious spree of hate. Pain flared in my mind, the cold psychological tendrils now invasive and cruel instead of curious. They wanted me to suffer before I died, to feel every tear, every bite, every rend of my skin before I was fed to their babies. I would endure all of it, awake while their young burrowed into my chest, drank my blood, spun their telekinetic feelers into my skull, and ensnared my brain to keep me still. I would regret coming here, harming their children, trespassing on their territory. I would regret it, for every tortuous moment it took to consume me. My hand brushed a lump masked by rough woven nylon, and I blinked, some of the pain ebbing in my skull. *Not today.* Palming the green plastic detonator, I glared back into the light, and raised the clacker with a defiant sneer. “That’s a mistake.” For a brief second, the voices in my head wavered, a palpable fear running through them all, and greasy braided steel slithered up my torso, over my arm toward the remote. *Click.* I shut my eyes, blocked the voices out, and shoved away the tendrils of the Echo Spider’s control. Instead, I let myself relive that dream, that wonderful moment of Chris and I in a rowboat, floating across an absurdly large ocean of soda. What I wouldn’t have given to experience that moment, even without the soda, even in the dark, on the run, cold and miserable. *Boom.* My world lit up bright as a Christmas tree, the new beacons of red, orange, and yellow enough to drown out even the perverse false light of the Echo Spiders. Flames erupted in billows, shock rippled through the air, and colossal roars swept everything away in a surge of concussive force. All the voices in my head let out a high, alien scream, and the violating tendrils were ripped from my thoughts. Heat licked over my skin, my hair, my clothes, and tore me from the grasp of the cables in a burst that knocked all the air from my lungs. My ears rang, the world spun, and I tumbled head over heels like a rag doll. Everything whirled into a blur, and for one last moment, I caught a glimpse of the nest as flames consumed it, the Echo Spiders writhing in the blaze. *Slap.* Melting black tendons hit me so hard that my teeth rattled, but I tore right through them, and the shockwave threw me out of the nest, into the gray, dusty streets below. *Wham.* A sharp jolt of pain exploded in my left hip, and my forehead bounced off hard asphalt, sending stars through my vision. Unable to stop myself, I tumbled helpless over rocks, bricks, and metal, each poking and cutting me all the way. My gas mask filter snagged on a brick and the entire mask ripped loose from my face. A half-broken cinder block wrenched at my right ankle, and the box jammed into my spine every time I rolled over. At last, I slammed into a heap of charred wood, and white-hot pain seared through my side. *Throb.* I lay there, too stunned, broken, and worn-out to move. Hot, sticky blood dribbled across my belly button, and my Type-9 dug into my armpit, sending numb tingles up and down my right arm. A foul, musty, garlic odor burned at the back of my throat, my eyes watering, nose running. *Throb.* Thick black smoke clogged the sky, and little bits of burning debris rained around me. I began to choke, unable to draw a breath, and craned my neck to look for my gas mask. *There.* It lay not far away, maybe fifteen feet at most, nestled among the rubble. The black rubber straps hung in a tangle, the round silver-colored filter had been dented and smashed around the intake valve, and the plexiglass visor bore a small crack, but it was within my reach. Excruciating coughs wracked me, and I fought to suck in a breath, each more violent than the last. Acid seemed to flood the tender regions of my throat, and tears mixed with the snot that poured over my upper lip, dripping onto my shaking pale hands as I tried to crawl. “Come on.” Another spike of agony sliced through my torso, but I dragged myself forward with gritted teeth, muscles cramping up as the adrenaline left my system. “Just a little . . . just a little further . . .” But my lungs revolted, the hacking intensified, and I gagged, close to vomiting. Everything hurt, especially my left hip, and stiffness crept into my sore muscles like vicious snakes. With the Echo Spiders silenced, the residual ache from their attacks inside my skull became unbearable, spots dancing before my eyes from their lights. Even as the dots faded, my vision blurred in the poisonous fumes, and panic rose in my chest. I stretched out my hand, clawed the air to reach the gas mask, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get purchase. Gravity dragged my hand back down to the melted black tarmac, held me there, and my throat started to swell shut. Over. It was over. Spitting out a salty stream of mucous, I choked on a sob, and shut my eyes against the toxic air. *I’m so sorry Mom, Dad. I tried.* Shadows crept through my brain, and I curled up into a ball to keep warm, even as heat ebbed from my body. *Crunch, crunch, crunch.* Muffled feet strode over debris, and a hand slid under the back of my head to cradle it off the pavement. *Puppets.* My eyes flew open in alarm, but instead of wooden teeth and milk-white eyes, I found myself staring up at the stark cobalt yellow of a chemical suit, and a pair of silver irises behind a large plastic visor. “Breathe.” Black rubber pressed to my face, and the man snugged the gas mask straps over my head with gentle hands, his words soothing like aloe to a sunburn. “You’ve done well.” Fresh, clean air flooded into my lungs as the man screwed a new filter onto the front of my mask and smeared some clear tape over the crack in my visor. A thousand confusing thoughts swirled in my head, but they were drowned out by a surge of drowsiness. The shadows overwhelmed my field of view, and down I went, into abyssal, black unconsciousness. Images and sensations fluttered before my mind’s eye like a strange fever dream, reality intwined with nightmares so that I didn’t know what was real, and what wasn’t. A silent gray world, with ash on the wind and fire everywhere passed by at an angle while I floated off the ground. Yellow arms held me up, and everything seemed to be upside-down. I saw what remained of a tall building, something in charred red brick, surrounded by the wrecks of military trucks and dozens of civilian vehicles. The bodies here were stacked right on top of each other, as if they’d all been crawling over one another at the last, desperate moment. Whispers rose in my jumbled mind, and for a moment, I could have sworn one of the skeletons sat up to wave at me with a jovial grin. I tried to crane my neck to see, but it hurt to move. “Lie still.” The same tender baritone voice whispered to me, his pace never faltering. “This is a dangerous place. The others never made it through.” More corpses passed by on the ground, some with funny clothes on like pirates, rigid in the despair of death. Another skeleton leaned out of a ruined truck to grin at me, flashing a thumbs up as if I needed a ride in his fire-blackened pickup, and I blinked in shock. The second my eyelids peeled open, it was dark. Two-story houses and stately commercial buildings stood around a large square, not ruined but whole, the cars shiny and new, the streetlights glowing yellow in the cool misty night. People stood in a huge crowd, more coming from all directions, running, screaming, their families in tow. A thin line of gray-uniformed soldier held them back from a row of overloaded military trucks, the sky filled with the staccato of gunfire and the cries of monsters. Somehow, I could smell the smoke in the air, taste the humid midsummer breeze, and feel a stiff wind coming up from the south. Voices echoed as if from across a canyon, sobs, screams, moans of pain, and angry shouts. Curious, I peered at the people who huddled closer to the refugee caravan, my heart twinging in pity at their hopeless expressions. “*Where is she? Sarah should be here, where is she?*” A woman in rumpled sweatpants and a ‘My kid is an Honor Student’ T-shirt frantically yanked at her husband’s shirt sleeve, two little boys clinging to her legs. “*Travis will bring her, we have to go.*” The man in a green trucker’s cap and ragged blue jeans grabbed his wife’s hand to pull them all in the direction the crowds were shuffling, everyone pressing forward with pale faces and fearful eyes. “*She’ll be there, trust me. Come on, we’ve got to get a seat on the next truck!*” Sirens wailed, and somewhere in the inky black sky, long fingers of light arched into the air, like shooting stars against the clouds. “*It’s an airstrike!*” An old man shrieked, still dressed in his pajamas and slippers, and the crowd disintegrated into chaos. Many tried to charge the ranks of soldiers, and gunfire exploded across the line, bullets cutting civilians down in bloody droves. Others crawled under vehicles, while some charged nearby houses to get inside, breaking windows, and kicking down doors. They shoved and trampled each other, punched and kicked, a few waving weapons to keep fists away from their loved ones. One woman knelt in the middle of it all to hug her son and daughter close, her husband on the other side with his arms encircling them, the four people still as statues in the center of the street. Women screamed, children cried, men shouted in panic, and the whole awful cacophony rose in terrible climax as the lights came racing down. *Ka-boom.* Pain rippled through me, flames covered my sight, and I cried out in terror. My eyes blinked, and once again I saw nothing but gray sky, the husk of the old courthouse, and corpses. No skeletons moved, no corpses grinned back at me. Only the steady crunch-crunch of boots perforated the air, as I floated along over the abandoned streets. “It’s alright.” The stranger in yellow cradled me close to his chest with paternal kindness. “It was only a memory. When humans experience pain on a massive scale, it always leaves traces. Those who cannot withstand its fire are consumed by it, but you are different. That’s why you’re here, Hannah.” *He knows my name?* Unable to so much as speak, I let the pain drain away, something popping in my hip, and once again, my world went dark. Water sloshed somewhere nearby, and feet plopped through soupy muck. Dense, soft warmth wound itself around me, and I opened my eyes to see two silver irises looking down. Below them, in the sea of yellow that swam before my vision, a jumble of black squiggles stood out, their meaning slowly taking shape in my addled brain. [036.](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/12izqnm/i_worked_for_the_elsar_program_theyre_lying_about/) “Who . . . who are you?” At last, I managed to rasp out something like words, still unsure if I was dreaming, dying, or fully awake. I couldn’t be sure thanks to his gas mask, but with how his eyes shone like ancient stars, I somehow thought that the man was smiling. It was a smile that held no malice, no animosity, but instead a tenderness that reminded me of my father, and how he hugged me every time he came home from work. “A friend.” He chuckled and brushed some loose hair from my face. “Sleep now. You’re going to need it.” As if on command, my eyelids slid shut, and the stranger vanished from sight. *Thump.* Gasping, I sat up on my elbows, and blinked. *What the . . .* I lay in the bottom of my red fiberglass canoe, floating on the quiet waters of Maple Lake. The sky lay swathed in sheets of red, orange, and yellow light as the sun slipped below the horizon to the west. No ash rained down, and the air felt cool on my skin, the hot days of September drawing closer to the eventual cold fronts of October. Strange blooms glowed orange, pink, and green on the nearby shore, and crickets sang in the brush nearby. Fireflies danced with happy swoops, and in the trees, winged lizards cawed at one another in the branches, fighting over shiny bits of scrap. Bringing a trembling hand to my face, I tugged the gas mask free from my skin, and took a long, greedy gulp of sweet, fresh air. My hip no longer hurt, and as I probed my body with tentative fingers, I found new gauze taped over various wounds. A navy-blue wool blanket had been wrapped around me like a cocoon, the pinewood paddle tucked beside it, and at my feet lay the black nylon backpack. I snatched it up, and unzipped the main compartment. *Hello beautiful.* There it sat, the black polymer box, still stained with Echo Spider goo, the white lettering visible under all the dried mucous. LDB01106. I’d done it. The box was mine. Looking around, I couldn’t see the stranger anywhere, and despite the bandages, blanket, and the fact that Collingswood was nowhere in sight, I wondered if I had in fact seen him at all. Had I hallucinated in shock from my wounds? Had I managed to escape, applied first aid, and passed out in my canoe? But if that was the case, where had the blanket come from? *Bang.* I nearly jumped out of my skin and scanned the horizon. My eyes fixed on a distant cluster of shapes, long hard lines that stood out against the backdrop of trees. A huge, low-slung square sat in the water, just off the shore a quarter mile from where I floated. I could see the radio antenna atop the old bridge at the stern, the peeling numbers on the side, and the rusted anchor points for tugboats to pull it in for mooring. The abandoned coal barge. All I had to do was paddle, and I’d be there within fifteen minutes. *Bang, bang, bang . . . boom.* Dread slithered through my veins, and my triumphant smile melted away. They were shooting, shooting a lot, and that last explosion had been big enough to shake the trees. They were shooting at something . . . or someone. Grabbing the paddle from the bottom of the canoe, I drove it into the water with furious speed, and headed for the beached ship. My muscles burned, and my lungs itched from the abuse they had taken in Collingswood, but I plunged onward. The air shook with explosions, birds and beasts careened out of the trees onshore in alarm, and smoke began to rise from unseen fires. More gunshots roared into the night, a full-on firefight erupting somewhere up ahead, but I didn’t care. If Captain Roberts had broken his word, if anyone had so much as laid a finger on Jamie or Chris, I’d spend every bullet I had left to make them pay for it.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17d9r1r/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_21/

nosleep

RandomAppalachian468

I Thought Quartzwick Heights Was Safe, Then I Delivered My Baby There

The relentless rhythm of the rain pelting the roof of our car couldn’t drown the cacophony inside me; the chaotic symphony of anticipation, fear, and the overwhelming pulse of life eager to emerge. As David maneuvered the slick roads home, my hands clutching the passenger seat, each passing moment stretched thin, almost unbearable, as the urgency to bring our child into the world clawed its way up from my belly to my throat. I closed my eyes, trying to find calm amidst the storm, both outside and within me. But all I could feel was the tight knot of anxiety as each contraction rolled over me like a wave, prematurely hinting at an arrival that seemed more imminent than either of us was prepared for. We were miles away from home, from the comfort of the familiar, ensnared by a whimsical plan that had seemed romantic and adventurous just a few days ago. David and I had decided to embark on a “babymoon” of sorts, a final celebration of the two of us before we would transform into a trio. We'd traveled to a cozy bed and breakfast nestled in the lush landscapes of the countryside, indulging in tranquility and togetherness, letting the serene surroundings soothe the pre-parenting anxieties that had started to creep in. Our due date was still a month away, and with my obstetrician’s reassurances echoing in our ears, we’d left home for this last hurrah, confident we had time. But as I sat in the car, gritting my teeth through each contraction, the irony of our miscalculated timing seemed bitterly cruel. As the intensity of my contractions grew, so did David’s palpable concern. His face, normally so calm and composed, was etched with worry under the dim glow of the car’s dashboard lights. He kept glancing at me, his hand fleetingly leaving the steering wheel to squeeze mine in reassurance. His free hand clutched his cell phone, a lifeline that remained frustratingly silent, its screen stubbornly displaying ‘No Service’. We were stuck in a patch of the world that technology had seemingly forgotten, the dense trees and rolling hills acting as impenetrable barriers to the outside world. He frantically searched for road signs through the rain-smeared windshield, his foot heavy on the gas pedal, straining to discern the shapes looming in the darkness ahead. “Hang on, love. Just a bit longer,” he murmured, his words barely audible over the harsh drumming of the rain and my own ragged breaths. The urgency in his voice betrayed his fear, adding another layer of tension to the mounting desperation that filled the car. Out of the gloom, a rusted sign came into view, leaning to one side as though weary from years of neglect. Its paint was faded, almost ghost-like under the onslaught of the rain, but we could just make out the town’s name – “Quartzwick Heights”. The name alone sounded like an echo from the past, a relic from a time when the town had been a thriving mining hub. Now it seemed to sit abandoned, consigned to oblivion, but it was our only hope. With a surge of determination, David steered the car onto the narrow road leading to the town, the tires skidding precariously on the uneven surface. The road hadn’t been serviced in what seemed like decades, every jolt and bump an added torment to my increasingly painful contractions. The car’s headlights were our only source of illumination, barely slicing through the inky darkness, illuminating a pathway that wound through the woods like a forgotten trail. David drove aggressively, his knuckles white against the steering wheel, every muscle in his body tensed in concentration. All the while, I couldn’t help but let out a pained moan, the agony in my voice rising and falling with the cadence of the jostling car, our desperate journey punctuated by my growing distress. Finally, the darkness gave way to the warm, inviting glow of Quartzwick Heights. The town appeared to have been preserved in a time capsule, with charming cobblestone streets, quaint brick buildings, and vintage lanterns casting a soft, dreamy light onto the scene. David couldn't help but remark on the veteran cars parked alongside the road as we rumbled through the main street. “Looks like we've driven into a different era,” he commented, his voice filled with both awe and unease. But I could barely register his words, my world contracting to the agonizing pulse of my body’s insistent demands. I was only vaguely aware of the town’s quaint charm, my senses blurred and hazy, like viewing the world through a frosted window. My world was the ever-intensifying pain, David’s soothing voice, the incessant rain outside, and the undeniable fact that our child was desperate to meet us, regardless of where we were. Just when desperation was threatening to take over, we spotted the reassuring sight of a police car parked outside what appeared to be a small diner. Without wasting a second, David pulled up next to it and, after a quick glance in my direction, bolted from our car, dashing through the downpour. He rushed to the officer’s window, his panicked gestures speaking volumes even though I couldn’t hear his words. The officer, a broad-shouldered man with a kind face weathered by time and experience, immediately followed David to our car. He leaned in through my window, assessing my condition with a practiced eye that offered a glimmer of solace in the chaos. “You're going to be okay, ma’am,” he reassured me, his deep voice like a comforting anchor in the storm. With a nod, he swiftly climbed back into his vehicle and beckoned us to follow. The rain seemed to let up a bit as we trailed behind his car, winding our way through the town to a stately red-brick building with a softly lit sign reading “St. Agnes Hospital”. A wave of relief washed over me at the sight – our beacon of hope standing tall in the midst of the old-fashioned allure of Quartzwick Heights. As soon as we pulled up in front of St. Agnes Hospital, things started to move in a blur of activity. An older nurse in an oddly dated uniform rushed out, her hands steady as she swiftly assessed my situation. I barely had time to register the peculiar sight as the doors of our car were flung open and I was carefully but quickly transferred onto a stretcher. The world was spinning around me, interspersed by the sharp spikes of pain that felt like they were cleaving me in two. In the midst of the chaos, a doctor with gentle eyes and an old-fashioned demeanor appeared, nodding reassuringly to me and David before I was whisked through the hospital corridors. I couldn't fathom the peculiarity of the scene, nor did I care to question it. The only thing that mattered was that we were here, we were getting help, and our baby was on the way. David was right there with me, his hand in mine, matching my death grip with his own. His voice, though edged with fear, was steady as he whispered soothing words in my ear. As the harsh lights of the delivery room loomed ahead, my world condensed to the beat of my labored breaths, the relentless agony tearing through me, and David's unwavering presence by my side. As the delivery room buzzed with activity, my body was swiftly prepped for childbirth. Nurses in starched uniforms replaced my drenched clothing with a pale hospital gown, a move that was both methodical and swift. As I was helped into position on the delivery table, a sense of vulnerable exposure washed over me, and yet it was quickly eclipsed by the intensity of my contractions. The doctor, a figure of calm amidst the storm, turned to David, offering him a look of understanding. “Sir, I must ask you to leave the room now,” he instructed, his tone firm but gentle. His words hung heavily in the air, cutting through the tension and leaving a void in their wake. David's grip tightened around my hand, his eyes wide with surprise and protest. “But I want to be here... with her,” he stammered, his gaze flitting between the doctor and me, a plea evident in his voice. The doctor, displaying an age-old professional demeanor, nodded sympathetically. “I understand, son. But it’s how we do things here. We’ll take good care of her, you have my word.” His reassurance, although genuine, did little to ease David's reluctance. With a final squeeze of my hand and a promising look that silently vowed, ‘I’ll be right here’, David stepped out of the room, leaving me with the nurses and the doctor. The sound of the door closing behind him was a stark reminder of the temporary separation in our shared journey. Yet, even with the door between us, I felt our shared anticipation, knowing that on both sides we were waiting for our world to change forever. As the next contraction hit, the room narrowed to the sterile smell of the hospital, the echo of the doctor’s calm instructions, and the invisible bond tethering me to David, even in his absence. My world was consumed by the unceasing rhythm of labor and the profound realization that our baby was about to enter the world. With a final, soul-deep push, the world seemed to stop for a moment, replaced by a raw, aching comfort as the piercing cry of a newborn filled the room. Tears pricked at my eyes as I collapsed back onto the delivery table, my body shaking from the exertion and the sheer flood of emotions. I heard the doctor's voice – “Healthy girl,” he announced, and a sense of relief so profound washed over me, temporarily dulling the pain. A nurse swaddled our baby, her hands practiced and gentle, and then, with a nod in my direction, she left the room, the soft echo of her footsteps fading into the background. My heart lurched violently in my chest, a visceral pang of fear intertwining, as I strained my neck, trying to catch a glimpse of our daughter through the haze of my exhaustion. “Wait,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, a mere wisp of sound against the clinical beeps and shuffles of the room. “My baby... I want to hold her, please...” My words trailed off, a feeble attempt against the established protocol of the room. “Where are you going?” My arms, heavy and seemingly detached from my will, twitched, aching to cradle the life I had just brought into the world. My eyes, blurred with tears and fatigue, searched desperately for understanding in the doctor’s eyes, but he was already turning away, his focus shifting to the tasks at hand. A lump formed in my throat, an amalgamation of joy, despair, and a motherly instinct that screamed against the separation. My mind, foggy and frayed at the edges, couldn’t comprehend the distance being placed between me and my child, and a soft, broken sob escaped my lips, lost within the methodical efficiency of the room. “It will be alright,” the doctor murmured, his voice a gentle balm attempting to soothe the rawness of my emotions. “You just rest, and—” The moment the door closed behind the nurse after she had left with my daughter, a silence descended upon the room. The bustling activity and murmured reassurances vanished, leaving a void of unsettling stillness. In a blink of an eye, the once brightly lit, comforting room transformed into a dilapidated, abandoned space. The overhead lights had vanished, replaced by the creeping shadows of the dark, stormy night outside. The sterile smell was replaced by a heavy musk of age and decay. A gasp escaped my lips as I looked down at myself, the once clean hospital gown now torn, gray, and stained with age and blood. Cold fear slithered down my spine, replacing the earlier relief with panic. The silence was broken only by the distant drumming of rain and the occasional grumble of thunder. “David!” I called out, my voice resounding hauntingly in the hollow room. But there was no answer, just the oppressive quiet and the persistent tempo of the rain, drumming a chilling lullaby against the broken windows of the long-abandoned ward. Summoning every bit of strength left in my spent body, I began to push myself up from the bed. Every muscle protested, the effort sending sharp spikes of pain through me, but I bit my lip and forced myself to continue. Desperation lent me strength and, with a stifled groan, I managed to sit upright. Turning towards the window, I looked out at a town that was barely recognizable from the charming, quaint place we had driven through just hours earlier. The buildings were now decrepit, their paint peeling and windows boarded up, their elegance replaced by an eerie sense of abandonment. The vintage cars that had caught David’s attention now sat rusted and broken under the unabating rain. It was as if Quartzwick Heights had aged half a century in the blink of an eye. Cautiously, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my feet touching the cold, cracked tile floor. Bracing myself against the bed, I stood up, my legs shaky but holding. The room spun momentarily before my vision steadied. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open and stepped into a long, empty hallway, lit only by the occasional flash of lightning through the broken windows. The hospital was as defunct as the delivery room, an empty shell reverberating with the silence of abandonment. “David?” I called again, my voice swallowed by the oppressive quiet. My heart pounded in my chest as I started down the hallway, dread gnawing at me with every step. My husband was nowhere to be found, vanished as if he’d never been there at all. As I started down the deserted hallway, a faint sound pierced the silence – the unmistakable cry of a newborn. The familiar cry both anchored me and heightened my fear, setting my heart pounding in my chest. “Hold on, sweetheart,” I whispered into the empty hallway, my voice breaking. The cry echoed again, a beacon guiding me through the darkness of the abandoned hospital. With renewed determination, I staggered down the hallway, driven by a primal need to reach my child. I pushed open doors to empty rooms, my steps resonating in the eerie silence. Each room was as abandoned as the last, remnants of a time long past slowly decaying under the weight of neglect. In what must have been a waiting area, I stumbled upon an old newspaper, left carelessly on a faded couch. As I picked it up, the date caught my attention – it was decades old. The headline sent a chill down my spine: “Tragic Mine Collapse Claims Lives of Town's Children”. The article told a tale of catastrophe, of a mining accident that had released a deadly gas into the town’s school, taking the lives of nearly every child in Quartzwick Heights. It was a catastrophe that eventually led to the town’s abandonment. My blood ran cold, a knot of dread coiling in my stomach. With the cry of my child guiding me, I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other, driven by a mother’s instinct and the chilling fear that the history of Quartzwick Heights might be reaching out to claim another innocent life. The plaintive cries led me to a sturdy, locked door at the end of a long corridor. The noise seemed to be emanating from behind it, now accompanied by a rush of renewed panic. “Hold on, mommy's here!” I cried out, my voice raw. “David!” I yelled again, hoping against hope that he would appear. Without a moment's hesitation, I began to bang on the door, throwing my weight against the unyielding wood. The pain was a distant thought as adrenaline surged through my veins. Each kick, each hit was accompanied by my desperate calls. The old wood creaked and groaned under my onslaught, its integrity compromised by decades of disregard. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door gave way with a resounding crack, its weakened frame finally succumbing to my desperate attacks. Stumbling into the room, I scanned my surroundings. It was a neonatal unit – a nursery where newborns were typically kept. The room was filled with rows of small, abandoned incubators, relics of happier times. And then, I saw it – in one of these incubators, swaddled in a faded blanket, lay my baby, untouched and crying. My knees almost gave out from overwhelming emotions as I rushed forward, lifting my child into my arms. She immediately quieted, nuzzling into my embrace. At that moment, between the dilapidated remnants of the once bustling hospital, the outside storm felt distant, the ominous history of Quartzwick Heights momentarily forgotten. All that mattered was that my daughter was safe and unharmed, cradled in my arms. With her secure in my arms, a new wave of urgency washed over me. “David!” I called again, my voice ringing out ominously through the forsaken hospital. Each empty room, each silent hallway was a bitter reminder of his unsettling absence. My heart ached with the need to find him, but the wailing storm outside and the unknown threats lurking in the shadows of the hospital made it clear – I had to get my child to safety. A chilling sound cut through my thoughts – the echoing patter of footsteps somewhere behind me. I turned, my heart pounding, but there was no one there, just the haunting emptiness of the hallway. The sound followed me, growing closer, instilling a primal fear in my heart. Clutching my daughter close to my chest, I began to move, to run. The dimly lit, winding corridors of the hospital morphed into a labyrinth of shadows and fear. My steps reverberated in the deserted hospital, harmonizing with the mysterious ones that seemed to be pursuing us. I stumbled more than once, but each time the soft whimper of my child spurred me on, feeding my determination. Every turn, every door seemed to lead to another abandoned corridor. But I pressed on, the exit and the promise of safety my only goal. The storm outside roared its fury, the thunder resonating with my pounding heartbeat. I knew I couldn't stop, couldn't falter, because even in the face of uncertainty, I had one guiding instinct - to protect my child. Bursting through the doors of the hospital, the cold bite of the rain hit me instantly, drenching my gown and the baby's blanket. The storm raged around me, thunder shaking the ground beneath my feet, lightning painting eerie shadows across the desolate town. I sprinted toward the car parked haphazardly by the curb, the rain blurring my vision. I quickly settled my daughter in the back seat, wrapping her tighter in the blanket to ward off the chill. Jumping into the driver's seat, I fumbled with the keys, my trembling hands making the task harder. The car remained ominously silent, the engine refusing to turn over. I whispered desperate pleas, each attempt to start the car a silent prayer against the raging storm. And then, I saw it – the hospital doors swung open violently, slamming against the walls with a crash that echoed above the storm. My blood ran cold, but there was no one there, just the open doorway revealing the inky darkness inside. But haunting sound of footsteps trailed behind, intensifying, nearing. I frantically turned the key one last time, and just as the phantom footsteps seemed to be upon us, the engine roared to life. I let out a sob of relief, quickly shifting the car into gear. With one last glance at the empty doorway of the hospital, I pressed the accelerator, driving away from the eerie, forsaken town. As the distance grew, the ghostly strides faded, swallowed by the storm, leaving only the constant drumming of rain and the pounding of my heart as the only reminders of the haunted town of Quartzwick Heights. Once home, the surreal silence of our empty house was a grim reminder of the ordeal we had just survived. I reported David missing, the sympathetic but doubtful eyes of the local police officers seeming to question the truth of my account. An investigation was launched, but the only trace they ever found of David in Quartzwick Heights were his footprints etched delicately in the silken dust near the entrance, hinting at a desperate chase. In the midst of the overwhelming silence, clarity pierced through the fog of my mind. The footsteps that pursued me in the twisting corridors of the hospital, the ceaseless pursuit that felt perpetually at my heels, were not the haunting of an ethereal spirit nor the dark desires of an unknown foe. An overwhelming realization, cold and unyielding, gripped me. The ghostly reverberations that ignited my desperate dash, the very terror that haunted every step, were birthed from my husband's anguished endeavors to reunite with us. [TM](https://www.reddit.com/r/tobiasmalm/comments/112r4le/i_just_released_my_novel_the_cave_to_another/)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17d4er3/i_thought_quartzwick_heights_was_safe_then_i/

nosleep

Odd_directions

Every time it snows, a couple dies. And winter's first snow is tonight.

It had been a summer to remember. Or forget, in a certain sense. The warmth of June, July, and August, along with the delightful distractions that accompanied those months, in tandem with an eerily low crime rate, provided a much needed respite from the previous winter’s city-wide trauma. But summer was over. And as everyone knows, fall barely exists in New York anymore. Which is why no one should have been surprised, when the season’s first snow was predicted to arrive early. It was the end of September. The city was waiting on bated breath, when its meteorologists came together to announce a very controversial forecast. One week later, it was confirmed. A Nor’easter had made its way up the East Coast and was about to bring with it, high winds and heavy precipitation, in the form of the one word everyone had been dreading… snow. Snow. A word synonymous with bringing joy to the hearts of children and romantics alike, had become so triggering, that authorities were calling for curfews across the Tri-state area and a 24/7 police presence. “See, it’ll be fine,” I reassured Ava, after hearing the announcement on the news. I proceeded to walk over to the mirror and drape a tie over my neck, then looked back at her with a smile. “What?” She asked nervously, hiding a smile of her own, as she lay on the bed in her pajamas, procrastinating getting ready. She pointed to the window. “Just the sight of it makes me nervous.” I looked down at our Brooklyn street corner and, sure enough, there they were. Snowflakes. Heavy snowflakes, falling fast. And on the sidewalk, an inch of snow. It was already starting to add up. “Can we just stay in tonight?” She pleaded. “Honestly, it’s just another year. I’ll be happy as long as I’m with you.” I sauntered over to the bed, assuming a little humor would lighten the mood. “Sorry, my tie’s tied. No turning back now.” I was wrong. “How can you be joking during a time like this?” She asked. “Come on, what’s the worst thing that could happen?” “Oh I don’t know, maybe the worst possible thing that could happen?” “Tell me something. You really believe that out of all of the eight or so million residents in New York City - scratch that, couples only, let's say one million residents - the big bad killer is gonna go after us?” Looking back at it, it was a statistically solid point. — A few hours later, we were dining in the city at our favorite - well, at least our old favorite - spot in the West Village. Me, in my suit and tie. Ava, in a new red dress that she’d been saving for a special occasion. “Happy anniversary!” I raised my glass. “Happy anniversary!” She raised hers. “You see, nothing to fear but fear itself.” “Ok, F.D.R.” She rolled her eyes at my dad joke, but she usually loved them. “See what all those scaredy cats are missing out on, locked away in their apartments, watching trash TV?” “I’m not gonna lie, that kinda sounds amazing.” “Well hey, let’s not rule it out. If we’re not tired after the show.” I winked. “The show?” She asked. But before she could react, I had placed two tickets in front of her on the table. “It’s not what I think it is-” “Yup!” “But… how’d you get them? They’ve been sold out for weeks, and I heard the raffle’s nearly impossible to win?” “I have my ways.” I flirted. A huge smile washed over her face. “Shall we?” I gestured for the bill. “We shall.” She replied. — Nearly a foot of snow now on the ground, and the closest rideshare fourteen minutes away, we begrudgingly took the uptown train to Times Square and, as a result, barely made it to the theater in time. As I sat in my chair, watching the ushers rush guests to their seats, I could barely contain my excitement, for having finally surprised Ava. She had an uncanny ability to always see them coming. But when I looked over at her, she had a look of concern on her face. “How do you think he’s so consistent?” She mused. “Consistent?” I had nearly forgotten about the whole thing. “I mean, before summer, it happened four times in a row. Every storm, a couple murdered.” “Aw come on, why are you bothering yourself with that?” I comforted, but before I could continue to reassure Ava, the curtains opened, to the crowd’s applause. — “Are you serious? Are you fucking serious?” I cried out, stomping my boot on the corner of 44th and 8th, as I nearly splashed dirty sidewalk slush onto both of us. A foot of snow had become a foot and a half, and car service prices were surging beyond comprehension. “Well, what do you want to do?” Ava asked, leaving the decision up to me. “Phone’s telling me to take the F to the G. Just a few avenues over.” “Ok.” She agreed. A few minutes later, we found ourselves walking under a long stretch of scaffolding, that seemed to run the entire length of a city block. In NYC, it was par for the course. Sometimes, that shit would stay up for years, even after construction was completed. “Just one more avenue.” I said, putting my arm around Ava’s shoulder, her body shivering from the cold, despite being wrapped in a fur coat. She looked up at me and smiled. “At least the show was good. Was there too much singing for you? I know you prefer plays over musicals.” “No, it was fun,” I said. I was lying. I hated musicals, but it was our anniversary, and Ava seemed to enjoy it. “Who was your favorite character?” She asked. But I didn’t answer. Something had caught my eye up ahead. A white van had pulled over to the side of the road, almost completely obscured by the heavy snowfall. “Hey, let’s um… turn back and go the other way.” I proposed. I just had a bad feeling about it. “Why?” She asked. “We’re almost there.” “Just trust me,” I insisted. But when I turned around, I saw a nearly identical white van behind us, similarly pulled over to the side of the street. I stopped and gripped Ava’s hand in mine. Just then, two men stepped out, one from each van, and started to approach us, from opposite directions. It was at that moment, that I realized we were cornered. I turned to Ava, a look of concern in her eyes, and tried to say, “Run.” But I couldn’t bring myself to utter the words, paralyzed with fear. And then. “You two there! You’re not supposed to be outside.” One of the men called out. “Yeah, the curfew just started. We’re gonna need to see your licenses.” The other said, as they finally converged on us, clearly dressed in police uniforms. “You know, there’s a monster out there.” One of the cops warned, as he looked down at both of our IDs, before handing them back. “You’re all set. Now, please, just get home quickly, alright?” “Yes, officer.” — By the time we got back to Brooklyn, Ava and I were both exhausted. We had barely said a word to each other on the train ride home, and were clearly ready for bed, and putting the day behind us. We were just a few blocks away from the apartment now, heavy snow continuing to fall all around us, our gloved hands tightly interwoven, when Ava stopped and asked, “What’s that?” I looked ahead, squinting. It appeared to be someone, crouching down in the snow, over something. “They could be hurt.” Ava said. “Stay here,” I replied, as I let go of her hand and went over to see what it was. Looking back on it, I don’t know what was going through my mind at that moment. Whether it was curiosity, or a newfound sense of confidence, having survived the last scare. I stopped about five feet from the figure, who I could now see was crouching over something, his back to me. “Hey, are you ok?” I called out, to no reply. I took a couple steps closer, and suddenly realized what the figure was hunching over. Bodies. Two, mangled bodies, almost completely covered in snow. Red snow. I took a step back, preparing myself to run, when the figure turned around, still crouching. It was a man. An ordinary, run of the mill, average looking man, with a face that was both nondescript, and completely forgettable. He looked at me, then over Ava, who I didn’t realize had followed behind me. “It’s only two.” he smiled, as if attempting to comfort me. “Two each snow.” And like that, he took off down the street and hopped a fence, darting into the nearby park. Ava and I simply stood there in silence, Nor'easter winds howling like wolves in the night. I took a couple steps closer, my boots crunching into the now icy snow, and looked down at the bodies. It was a man and a woman. A couple, just like us. Just not as lucky. I reached into my pocket to grab my phone.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17d3d2q/every_time_it_snows_a_couple_dies_and_winters/

nosleep

sleuths82

Turn Out The Lights

They don’t make any sound when they move. It’s one of the things we all remembered. No footsteps, no breathing, no voice. You will never know how close they are until it is much, much too late. And once you have seen them they never let you go. Even if you survive the night you will spend the rest of your life on the run. Trust me. I know. * I am one of the “survivors”, if you can really call us that. We go on with our lives the best we can. Running and hiding and praying. Our group met online, all brought together by stories just like my own. I had been searching for years, hoping for any clue about what I had experienced. I spent countless hours scrolling through page after page of useless rumours and fictional accounts. I moved through hundreds of chat groups and forums until at last I found this one, the real thing. People who were hunted like me. People who have seen them. * There have never been many of us. The highest membership has been 6 and lowest 3. Most of us are single and live alone, afraid of cursing another to our fate. We still spend time on different forums and groups, keeping watch for ones like us. We invite them to join if they wish and offer what little help we can provide. But finding someone is a rare thing. We share our histories and our theories with each other, for all that it is worth. Support each other in any way we can. Meeting in person is frowned upon as it is believed to draw greater attention from our pursuers. All our histories are quite similar. We saw one of these creatures and they saw us. From then on there was no real escape, we had been marked and would eventually be taken. For one of us it happened as a friend was snatched during a house fire. Another was during an earthquake, another in a riot. They are drawn to events where people go missing, though there seems to be no other consistent factor. Time of day, country, season, age. All appear irrelevant. They are easier to see in the dark, as strange as that sounds, being almost invisible in direct light. Survivors have seen them on overcast days, dark figures in doorways or alleys. In truth, even in the best conditions of weak moonlight, you will not see much. Shadowy figures with blank featureless faces, often still as statues yet very much alive. They have never shown on camera or video to our knowledge. They could be beside you right now. No-one would know until it was too late. Once it has happened, once they have seen you, they will always be on your mind. Like a gun at your head or a knife to your throat. Everytime you close your eyes they will be waiting. You will see them in your dreams, ghosts at your back. When I first joined our group and found others sharing my experience, I was relieved but not surprised. I had never doubted my sanity, or thought this was in my imagination. I knew it was real, knew they were following me. We all do. You can feel them watching, feel them drawing close and you will know it is time to run. Another road, another town, another life. To buy yourself just a little more time. * The name we use for these beings is “Gogolaki”. I don’t know where it came from or if it holds any special meaning. It must have originated before the present iteration of our group as none of us can recall its origin. We don’t even know what language it is. “Gogo” may be Japanese for p.m. (night-time). Or it could refer to a Greek name meaning “watchful”. The best match we could find for “Laki” was the name of a volcano. Not much, I know. The word feels like a fragment of something, a tiny piece of an answer. Or perhaps it means nothing at all? It could simply be a nonsense word chosen at random. Our theories on what these things are, what they are doing, range from mundanity to fantasy. Just last week a member proposed that these entities were a manifestation of our own fear, that we make them real by being afraid. If we could stop thinking about them, he claimed, they would cease to exist. I could not help but laugh. At last a solution! If only it were so easy. Still, I can understand the need for these flights of fancy even if I have no time for them. For some, the group is all they have left. The only outlet for our hopes or hopelessness. We have, all of us, trimmed away our lives to make running easier, to keep loved ones safe. * Eventually, each one of us will stop posting. There will be no response to messages, no sign at all. The rest of us will be left wondering. Have they been caught at last? Have they committed suicide before being taken? (it is not an uncommon course of action). Do they still survive and have simply gone quiet? An example. Last year a member called “JD” went silent. He had been an unusual case. Despite his situation he had fought to keep his life unchanged, staying with his wife, keeping his job and home. He had been seen and marked when he was abroad for work, though the distance covered since had offered no protection. He said often that he could feel them searching for him, feel their presence drawing closer. He had dreams of being pursued through barren landscapes, deserts and ice fields and burned forests. His hunters always remaining just out of sight. We have all had this dream. Still, he refused to flee. I do not know what his plan was, whether he thought he could fight or believed they would never reach him. Whether he simply could not give up on his life, no matter the consequences. He grew quieter over the weeks, more erratic, posting messages in the middle of the night and drinking heavily. It was painful to watch. We all knew if he did not run he had little time left. One morning we all logged in to see his last message. “They are here.” * Of their victims there is never any sign, not a trace left behind. I have often thought it would be better if there was something, anything at all. Bones perhaps. A bloodstain. A report of a cry for help. But there never is. They bide their time and when they come for you there will be nothing to do but run, for as long as you can. Why do they take their time with some of us? Waiting for months or years to strike? As always there are dozens of ideas, none in any way provable. As for myself, I believe they enjoy watching us suffer, watching us run. They want us to. In the end, they come for you when you have lost everything, when the running and waiting and fear has deadened you to the point that it no longer hurts. We must face the truth that we are helpless. All we have is talk, yet we will find no great solace, no revelations. How many people have been taken? How long has this went on? We don’t know and likely never will. We can confirm nothing as fact. Where they are from, what they are, what they want. We cling to fears and rumours because they are all we have. * The strangest aspect of these abductions comes afterward. Those who are taken are forgotten. All memories of them decay in a matter of months, fading away until nothing remains. Example. Years ago, I visited the home town of a group member who had been missing for just over a month. What can I say, morbid curiosity got the better of me. I did not tell the others. In my time there I spoke to the womans parents, husband, friends. They were already beginning to forget her. The closer they had been the longer the memories lasted, but no-one was immune to it. I remember meeting her husband and at first, just for a moment, he didn’t even recognise her name. I could read the confusion in his eyes. Why couldn’t I remember? he was thinking, then hating himself for it. He was in tears when I left. This womans family had only reported her missing 4 weeks earlier yet already it was as if it had never happened. No-one was following up, there were no posters or appeals for information. Other than her name on paperwork it was almost as if she had never lived at all. I have often thought this is the true reason for our group. A last effort to be remembered, to have someone know that we lived. It is sad and lonely and desperate. I know that. But what can we do? What can any of us do? We cannot prove what we say is truth without consigning others to our fate, and I for one do not wish that on my conscience. No matter how we were loved we will become as sandcastles before the tide, dreams upon waking. Lost and lost and lost. This is what awaits us and we are all aware of it. The longest anyone has ever been in our group is 11 years, before they disappeared. Before they were taken. This is my 10th year. * And what of my story? In this tattered old memory I live in a small town in the mountains, just my father and I. We were always moving and always to places like this. It had only ever been the two of us, travelling together all my life. I never knew my mother or any other family. My father was my whole world. One night he burst into my room as I slept. I did not know the time but it was dark outside. I was 7 years old, frightened and confused. I saw his pale face, worried, eyes wide. He snatched me up from the bed into his arms and grabbed a jacket for me. “Dad? Whats wrong?” He didn’t answer. I heard the storm outside, the rattle of the windows, rush of rain. It had only been a breeze when I went to bed, now it had become a wild roar. There were people shouting in the streets, lights on, cries for help. I learned later that the storms had caused a landslide in the hills, collapsing a damn. The ensuing flooding wiped out everything in its path including our home. My father reached the top of our stairs and stopped suddenly, frozen in place, a foot on the edge. He stared down into the corridor below. Moonlight flickered on the floor and I realised water was already coming in. I remember his stubble scratching my face as he held me tight against him. His breathing, fast and ragged as the wind screamed against the walls through the darkness outside. “Dad?” He reached out for the lightswitch, still staring down the steps. He was shaking as he flicked off the light. It was there. On the stairs, a dark figure only a few feet away. A shadow among shadows, blank face watching us, still as stone. “Run.” my father whispered. The thing moved, faster than I could see, flashing up the steps and then I was falling, tumbling down and splashing onto the wet carpet. I looked up, dazed. My father was gone and only the figure remained. The storm roared again outside, the rising flood pressed against our door and it burst inward, icy water washing around me. It turned, slow, silent. Even in the dark I knew it could see me, knew it was looking straight at me. So I fled. Out the front door into the chaos of the streets, wading as much as running. Soaked, freezing, struggling to breathe and wild with fear. I did not stand out from the others around me. The flood took every building in the town that night and hundreds of lives. It was a miracle I was not one of them. No-one ever found any trace of my father, and no-one wanted to believe the story of a crazy child when so many others had been lost. He became just another name, with only me to remember him. And now, all the years later, I am losing him again. No matter how I have tried he fades from memory, his eyes, face, words. I replayed everything I had of him in my mind, every day since he was taken. Everything I could every moment I could. Holding on to all I had left. Even that wasn’t enough. No matter how I try now I cannot see his face, I cannot hear his voice. There is nothing left of him to me, only the knowledge that he was there. Will that go next? How much longer can I hold on to him? Soon all that will remain are the questions I would ask him. How did he know about them? How did he know they could be seen by turning out the lights? How long had we been running and hiding? How did he keep going. * It is quite a thing to be afraid of. Not simply death and the unknown, but of being completely forgotten. Everything you were now as insubstantial as a breeze, with no-one to know it. They have never let anyone go. Sometimes, in the desperate nights, pressure and anxiety fold in overhead like I am trapped in a falling building. It becomes a feverish panic and I try to fool myself. To find a way out, to stop running. I tell myself, perhaps I will be the first to escape. They will pass me by. I will leave this all behind and live again. We all lie to ourselves when we have nothing left. * They are close now. No more running, I think. No more fear. Is it better to see death approach, I wonder, or live in the ignorance of the light? I do not know. All I can do is sit here in the dark, and wait.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17d3uo4/turn_out_the_lights/

nosleep

dmackay1981

One of my near death experiences while fishing.

I am a Native Canadian who lives on the West Coast of Canada and have had 12 Near Death Experiences in my lifetime, 9 of which happened before I was 21 and were mostly fishing related. During a trip me and the men in my family went on to got get Cockles (a type of Shellfish) we went during winter to avoid what we call "Red Tide", which is the Fuel and Oil that comes off of boats and ships and seeps into the sands where Shellfish live. Whenever we go and dig for Cockles (or any other Shellfish for that matter) we have to go when the tide is at it's lowest, which happens 3-4 times a year (it varies due to the Lunar activities). During the Winter our daylight lasts from about 9:00am to 4:30 pm and the trip going to our digging spot took up all the daylight. The boat we had at that time had no shelter from the elements and we were at the mercy of Nature, that particular day the water was flat calm and no wind so we went full nearly speed to get to our digging spot which amplified the Winter temperature of -20 Celsius (or -4 Fahrenheit) to a bone chilling - 30 Celsius (or -22 Fahrenheit) which was made worse due to it being Ocean Air and the humidity bit straight through all our layers of clothes. ​ When we finally got to our cabin it was getting dark out so we brought all our clothes and food inside and rested until the next day. When daylight finally came we took stock of everything we needed (buckets, our tools for digging and a Gun) and set out to the beach to dig but went slower than usual due to temperature. When looking for the signs of Cockles you need to look for small holes in the sand and spot the telltale spurt of water that they shoot out (like a small watergun you'd give to a toddler) and sometimes 4-5 inches under the sand you'll find them spurting out water and you'll find more further down and around them. ​ We were digging for all the daylight hours and it got dark and something that most big city folk don't really understand is when it get dark out...it REALLY get's dark, the kind of dark were the trees are almost Black and the only light you see is from the stars. While we were digging and using headlamps to see in the dark....we heard something walking on the beach near us and while exhausted I picked up the gun (to give an example for gamers it was like a Cowboy Repeater from Fallout New Vegas) and aimed it in the general direction of the footsteps and almost yelled for someone to shine the light for me. In the midst of darkness and low to the ground we saw a pair of eyes glowing from the Flashlights, I asked my Grandfather if I should fire a warning shot and he immediately said yes...so I aimed in front of it and aimed to the right and fired then reloaded right away and aimed between it's eyes......that thing slowly took 3 steps towards us then stopped.....after about 5 seconds it slowly backed away, into the darkness walked down the beach. We didn't say anything but we all knew that if we stayed at that beach we would not be returning home so w packed up all out gear, went down to the boat and started slowly driving back to our cabin....when we got to the middle bay that the beach was in....we heard the ENTIRE bay echo with howls....we were being hunted by Wolves. We didn't say anything while driving back to the cabin but we all knew that we saw Deaths Gaze and barely avoided becoming a missing persons report in the middle of Winter....Hours away from Civilization or ANY people for that matter. In the midst of the Darkness that is the Canadian wilderness I will give this advise that most Canadians abide by, be nice to people....because you never know when The End is near.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dh54o/one_of_my_near_death_experiences_while_fishing/

nosleep

TheGimpster101

The haunted asylum

Deep in the heart of our small town, nestled among the trees, there stood an old, decrepit asylum known as the "Whispering Hollow." A shroud of mystery enveloped the place, stories of tormented souls, and inexplicable occurrences keeping most at bay. The asylum had been abandoned for decades, and few dared to venture near it, especially after the sun dipped below the horizon. But for as long as I could remember, I had been drawn to it, an insatiable curiosity pushing me closer. One moonless night, I summoned the courage to approach the asylum. Its dilapidated walls loomed like ancient sentinels. As I stepped through the broken gates, a chilling gust of wind whispered past, and I heard faint voices on the breeze. Whispers, desperate and anguished, beckoning me further inside. Determined, I entered the asylum's crumbling entrance, my flashlight illuminating the darkness. The walls were adorned with graffiti, but what caught my attention were the faded patient files strewn across the floor. Names like "Lucas," "Evelyn," and "Samuel" haunted the pages, tales of suffering etched into the ink. Deeper I ventured, and the whispers grew louder, echoing through the decaying halls. I could almost discern words – pleas for help, cries of despair. I felt the eyes of the tormented souls upon me, watching, imploring. My exploration led me to a room with a shattered window, moonlight streaming in, casting eerie shadows. In the corner, a music box lay broken, but it began to play a haunting melody by itself. Cold sweat drenched me as I watched it spin without human touch. That's when I heard her, a young girl's voice in the darkness, singing a lullaby in a language I couldn't understand. Her ethereal figure materialized before me, her eyes devoid of life yet brimming with sorrow. She reached out, and her icy hand grazed my cheek, and I could feel the pain she endured. Terrified but empathetic, I listened to her story. She had been wronged, left to suffer in this forsaken place. The other tormented souls joined in, their stories intertwining, each more tragic than the last. They implored me to help them, to bring their stories to the living world. And I couldn't refuse, for they yearned for their stories to be heard, for the world to know the atrocities committed within these forsaken walls. The whispers never left me, but now, I am their voice. I share their tales, their anguish, so that the living may never forget the souls of the Whispering Hollow asylum, the haunting legacy of a place where the whispers of the dead will forever echo. I left the asylum that night, carrying their stories with me, a weight that I could never fully describe. It was as if their torment had become a part of my very being, an obligation I couldn't shake. I spent weeks researching the asylum's history, compiling every bit of information I could find, and sharing it with the world. The more I delved into the asylum's past, the more I uncovered tales of horror and cruelty. There were reports of unethical experiments, mistreatment of patients, and countless stories of lives cut short within those bleak, decaying walls. As I shared these stories with the public, I began to receive messages from people who had visited the asylum or had stories of their own. They spoke of hearing whispers in the night, seeing apparitions, and feeling an overwhelming sense of dread when near the place. It was clear that the asylum's dark legacy had left an indelible mark on anyone who dared to venture close. And as I continued to share these tales, I couldn't help but wonder if the spirits of the Whispering Hollow asylum were using me as a vessel to ensure their stories were heard. But with each new revelation, I felt a growing sense of unease. The whispers that had once been confined to the asylum now followed me everywhere. I would hear them in my dreams, in the silence of my home, and even in the midst of crowded streets. The spirits were no longer content with just having their stories told; they sought something more. It was as though they wanted me to do more than just reveal the past; they wanted justice for the wrongs committed within those walls. As I grappled with the spirits' increasingly desperate demands, I couldn't escape the feeling that I had become entangled in something far more profound and unsettling than I had ever imagined. The Whispering Hollow had its secrets, and the spirits were determined to ensure they were brought to light, no matter the cost. I can only hope that, in sharing their stories and seeking justice for the tormented souls of the asylum, I can finally put the restless spirits to rest and free myself from the unrelenting whispers that haunt my every moment. The Whispering Hollow may be abandoned, but its legacy continues to echo, a chilling reminder that some secrets are not meant to be unearthed.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dagmu/the_haunted_asylum/

nosleep

Peydenmg

The Silver Tune [Part 3]

[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/) *Before Creation peopled earth,* *Its eye shall roll through chaos back;* *And where the farthest heaven had birth,* *The spirit trace its rising track.* *And where the future mars or makes,* *Its glance dilate o’er all to be,* *While sun is quench’d or system breaks,* *Fix’d in its own eternity.* *When Coldness Wraps This Suffering Clay*, Paragraph three. Lord Byron, 1815 ~ The doctors had managed to stabilize my mother that night, but after everything I'd seen, I couldn't quite muster relief. David came in and helped me back to the limo after that. I held my face in my hands on the way, staring at the floor. I tried to understand it all. I had answers, like I wanted, but what did they mean? What was all of this? Why was this strangeness happening to me? I glanced at the paper in my hand. The name, Myles West, and a phone number. I had the house keys too. It was too late at night to think about any of this anyway. As I left the limo to go up to the hotel, I heard a window roll down. “When would you like to head home?” Grant said. “What do you mean?” I said, distracted. “To your family mansion. When do you want to go there as your mother has asked?” David gave Grant an odd look. “Whenever you're ready for it, of course. Please take your time.” David said. “Ask me tomorrow, but maybe we'll just go then.” I said. Grant nodded, smiled, and rolled up the window. When I got back to the hotel room, I nearly fell into bed with May and Carol. I slept a little, but the rings under my eyes were definitely deeper in the morning. We got up relatively early so as to not miss breakfast. May was beaming with excitement to try the pancake machine, so I didn't try to tell anyone what had happened last night. I at least wanted May to have one more normal thing before I tried to tell the two of them about, well, whatever the hell that was. “Look, Megan! It really does make pancakes on its own.” May said. She gripped the counter and watched the conveyor belt with awe. It really was a nifty little machine. “That's cool, May. They'll probably be hot so be careful.” The three of us had our breakfasts in the luxurious dining room. We definitely stood out. Not only because May was still in her purple pajamas, but because of my own shambling appearance, which I can only imagine was zombie-like. I'm not even kidding here. There were other children having breakfast who were in tuxedos. For *breakfast at a hotel*. Besides the annoying stares we got though, the food was incredible. It helped take my mind off of it all at least for a while. The pancake machine was one of the few non-chef prepared foods. Otherwise you simply asked what you wanted from a menu and they cooked it up, breakfast related or not. We went back up to the room later. That was when I sat the two of them down. “So, I had to go visit my mom last night. Around three or four.” May nodded. “Oh?” Carol said. “I didn't wake you because apparently she just wanted to see me. I figured it was about the paperwork. David came by our room to pick me up. That's how May ended up in our bed.” “I woke up.” May said. “Our mother wants us to watch her house while she's in the hospital. She gave me the keys. We should probably go there today.” “Right, I remember. Is that all though? By the look on your face I was worried that something bad had happened,” Carol put a hand on May's shoulder. “How do you feel about going to your old house, May?” “I don't know. I guess it's okay if you two will be there.” May said, but she looked worried. I nodded. “Okay, then I guess they'll just hold this hotel room for us, but for now we're going to stay at mom's.” I said. “Was there anything else that happened?” May asked. I tried to gear up and tell them about the weird things I had seen, but had I really seen them? What did I have? An odd smile from a nurse? People wearing the color red? I sighed. Top it all off with the fact I wasn't sleeping and it made perfect sense. Almost. The paper in my pocket with Myles’ number weighed heavily, and so did my mother's words. “She did have a convulsive episode, but the doctors helped her and she's okay. What else were you thinking of?” I said to May. “I'm glad she's okay. I don't know what else. I had another dream while you were gone. One about a man in a red suit. He told me that I was special and that I could help him.” May said. “Well that's an odd dream,” Carol paused and eyed me. “Are you all right, Megan?” “Yes, I'm just– Well, mother was acting a little odd last night. I'm sorry that you had another nightmare, May.” I said. Again? May had seen the same stranger I'd been seeing? Before, I could write all of this off as stress, but this made me feel uneasy. *“You've seen him, haven't you? The man in the red suit?”* My mother had said. “It was almost a nightmare,” May continued. “There was that scary hallway like my dream on the plane, but the suited man said that he could stop it. He just needs my help.” “The ‘suited man’?” I said. “Yeah, that's what I call him.” We stayed quiet for a time. “Megan, can I tell you something else? About last night?” May said. I nodded. “When Mister Davie came over, he had a shadow on him. It looked almost like another person.” May said. “A shadow?” Carol said. “Something scary. I didn't like it, I've seen it hovering around Grant–” A knock on the door interrupted her. I glanced at May, then walked over to look. “I'm sorry May. Hold on, it's David and Grant.” I said. I let them inside, and May looked even more nervous. “Hello, Magdalene, Maybel,” Grant said. “Your mother wishes you to consider David and myself under your employ for the time being. As you will be temporary guardians of her estate, I will assist you in what ways I can. If you have any questions or wish to begin processing the paperwork, please call on me.” “We also thought that we should give you this.” David said. He was glancing at Grant the same way May was. David held out a credit card and I took it. “This is one of the cards tied to a spending account made for you a while back. Before everything. Your mother never touched it, so I don't think there's any reason you shouldn't have it while you're here at the very least.” David said. “As my first order to you two then, we'll be using cellphones. No more snail mail.” I said. Grant smiled in a way I didn't like. David's friendly smile balanced it out. “Fair enough. We'll leave you to it then,” David turned to go, but paused. “Oh, and please take your time to be comfortable. You should know that there are lots of things to do here to take your mind off of it all. There's some catalogs in the lobby, and there's a great pool here.” David winked, and the two left the hotel room. “A credit card? How much do you think is on it?” Carol said. “No clue.” “My head spins a little at that.” Carol said. “You should read the will. She wants to leave me everything if she dies. Her accounts, the house, all of it. I haven't read the whole thing yet, so there's probably a signature signing my soul to the devil, but still.” Carol plopped down onto the couch. “What in the hell would we do with all of that?” She mused. “Probably donate most of it. No one needs that much.” “And buy me a million kid's meals. It'll be damn fine.” May said. Carol looked at me, I at her, and we started laughing. May had an innocent little smile. “Wasn't me.” Carol said. “You just had a kid's meal yesterday.” I pleaded. “Yeah, but Mr. Robot is getting lonely. He needs a buddy.” May said. “We have a potentially bottomless credit card and May still wants to get a kid's meal.” Carol said with laughter. May narrowed her eyes. “What is it about the kid's meal anyway? Is it the toy?” I said. “It's the vibe.” May said simply. “The vibe huh?” I chuckled. “Yeah, like how when you go swimming and it's fun. Vibe.” “I know what a vibe is, I'm not that old,” I said. May shrugged. Carol and I looked at each other. “Oh, what were you trying to say before, May? When Grant and David came in?” May's smile fell and she wrung her hands. “Um, do we have to go to mom's house right away?” She said. “Not necessarily. What did you have in mind?” I said. May perked back up. “Swimming, swimming! I've seen the pool Mister Davie talked about. It has a playground and everything.” May said. I looked at Carol. She shrugged. “Could be nice.” She said. “Did you bring a swimsuit?” I asked May. She looked at me like I was stupid. “You always bring a swimsuit to a hotel.” “Right, my bad,” I chuckled. “Go get ready then.” “Yay!” May cried and ran into her room. I plopped down next to Carol. She ran a hand along my back as I held my face. “Just what the hell are we going to do?” I said. “I don't know. I guess we just watch the house for a while? We're going to have to call into work though.” Carol said. “They can do without us. We've never taken days off.” “I wasn't expecting a vacation, but this will be niiiiice.” Carol stretched out and put an arm around me. I laid on her shoulder. “Megan, you had an odd look when May talked about a guy in a suit. Is everything all right?” “If I told you, I'd sound crazy.” I said. “Oh I'm sure we've heard worse at work.” Carol said with a chuckle. “Not this time.” She studied me. Her tone became more serious. “Megan, are you okay?” “I think so. I think I just need some time to process it all. I've seen a lot of odd things lately, but I haven't really been sleeping.” I said. Carol was clearly worried, but nodded. “Okay. Tell me when you've got it all in a row. If we need to go to the hospital, we will.” May peeked out of her room. “What are you two doing? Stop being lazy-lovey and get ready to swim!” “All right, all right,” Carol said, grunting as she got up. “Let's check out this fancy-ass pool huh?” We got ready and went downstairs. I hadn't brought a swimsuit though, as that possibility had been the last thing on my mind. It was all right. I didn't really feel like swimming anyway. May was only slightly saddened by this, but Carol had brought one. May skipped through the finely decorated hallways all the way there. Most people we passed were wearing dress clothes or were otherwise fancied up. Needless to say, we were out of place. Adorable as May was though, the usher let her push the elevator buttons. That's right. This place has elevator ushers. We passed the lobby and dining areas to enter the pool. ‘Pool’ is an understatement. It was the largest fucking pool I'd ever seen, probably bigger than some hotels in itself. It was split into two major sections. A smaller half was clearly for kids, the other for ‘lazy-lovey’ adults. One end actually had a section going outside. Even the playgrounds and other equipment were colored gold and black, accented by a stone fountain of a dolphin spurting water. This was as rich as a dark chocolate cake, and made me just as sick to my stomach too. My soul would have departed if I'd known how much it cost a night here. I was surprised with how many people were here in the morning. It was mostly older folks spending time in the hot tubs. There were quite a few other screaming children though, one of them being the kid I'd seen in a tuxedo during breakfast. It seemed that a little water-based fun made impolite fools of us all. May pulled from our hands and was off in moments. Carol looked at me, then her, and I waved her on. “I'll be the towel gal.” I said. “You're the best, babe.” Carol tossed me her pink towel and May's purple one. Once May saw that Carol was after her, she screeched in delight. They both jumped into the lazy river before anyone could tell them not to run. “Can't tell us rich people what to do anyway.” I muttered and wandered off to find a seat. It was nice to sit with my arms back. I did my best to enjoy it. I watched May and Carol. They were having so much fun. I've always been so happy at how well May and Carol got along. With such an age difference between May and I, it was almost like we had our own daughter. If we were pseudo parents though, I couldn't help but feel that Carol was better at it than me. I watched the other guests silently ‘enjoying’ the pool. They seemed envious of May's laughter. “Looks like all these folks are jealous. Fun isn't something that rich people often have.” The voice behind me made me pause. It almost had that bonafide cowboy twang I had only heard in movies. I looked to the side to see the man walking to my chair. He was tall with brown hair slicked back, maybe in his late forties. He wore a black button up, and I'd be damned if those weren't actual cowboy boots on his feet. He watched Carol and May with a smile, then looked down to me. “Hi…” I said warily. He laughed. “Sorry for approaching you. I was just wondering if you–” “That's my wife.” I interrupted, pointing to Carol. That seemed to stun him. It took him a moment to respond. “That's not what I– damn it, sorry, forgot my coffee this morning. I'm all amiss if I don't have it. I'll get to the point. Are you Magdalene Audlin? I'm Lenny Catheway.” He said and held out his hand. “Hi, did you need something?” “My morning coffee for sure,” He chuckled to himself, but in seeing my straight face, he turned it into a cough. “Well, I've been looking for Margaret Audlin. I think she could be, well, in danger to put it lightly. She used to frequent this hotel and the front desk said that the Audlins’ were in attendance. You look kind of familiar so I thought I'd check.” Had news of my mother's condition already gotten around? The front desk actually told him about us? “Are you the press or something? Looking for a scoop?” I said. “No, I'm sorry if I've caused offense. Really, I'm only concerned about a potential danger. Margaret has something dangerous in her possession.” “Dangerous? Like what?” “If you're not Miss Audlin, I'd rather not give details.” “Shame. Hope you find her.” I said. “I, sure. Uh thanks I think.” Seeming embarrassed, the man walked away. He appeared worried. Worried, and scared. That more than anything made me wonder just who he could be. Why was he looking for us? Carol, holding May's hand, reached me as soon as the guy left. She didn't even have to ask, just put a hand on my back. “Just a vulture sniffing after my mother. Front desk apparently told him we were here.” I said. “God, really? That was quick. I guess word gets around.” I glanced back at the man as he left the pool area. “Well, you two should get back in the pool. I'm going to have a word with the front desk. Be back in a few.” Carol gave me a last smile before the two headed off again. I waited sufficiently long before leaving the pool. When I did, I went out into the carpeted hall. I probably smelled like chlorine as I went up to the front desk. “Ah, Miss Audlin. How can I help you?” The teller said. “Hi. Some guy just approached me saying that the front desk told him we're staying here? Gives a new meaning to the job ‘teller’, don't you think?” I said, a little frustrated. The teller swallowed. “I am not aware of any staff members giving out your information. Please allow me to investigate the matter, and I will be sure that it doesn't happen again.” “Thank you.” I strode off back to the pool, feeling silly. *God, did I just sound like a rich asshole? I might as well have asked for a manager.* I thought. “Ah, Miss Audlin? There was someone else here to see you.” The teller called at my back. I stopped and turned. “Who would possibly–” I paused. I frowned. There was no one at the desk. Hell, I stood alone in the whole hallway. Silent as a graveyard. I had walked far enough to be next to the dining hall, but there was no one there either. Everything was empty. “Hello?” No reply. My voice echoed. Worry rising in my stomach, I walked to the pool. I pushed at the pool doors, but they wouldn't open. The windows looking in were black. “Hello? Carol? May?” I called. That's when I heard it. I could hear something, a song. No, it was *that song*. It was coming from behind me. “No… no no.” I turned away from the pool, but I was no longer in the hotel. The long hotel hallway was replaced by a more familiar one. Colorless rugs and worn wooden wash. Crumbling trim, odd paintings and withering plants. It had a sickening aura that I remembered all too well. I stared down to the other end to see the large black door with the golden moon plate in the center. My breathing quickened as the door opened a crack. Long fingers reached around the edge of the door and pushed it further. An arm extended from the shadows. I could see two fingers turning the crank of the music box. “What do you want from me?” I said, my voice shaking. “You know what we want.” A new voice. Not like that thing from my nightmares, but human, normal. Someone appeared ahead of me. Leaning against where the front desk had been was a gentleman in a red suit. His skin was pale and gray. His eyes were a sunken black. He smiled perfect teeth. “Hello, Magdalene. I'm so glad that we could finally speak. I talked to your sister just the other night, and I was saddened to see you absent. You surprised me.” I said nothing. “Cat got your tongue? Very well. I will explain for you,” He appeared next to me, and gestured to the thing playing the music box. “Horrifying to you or not, I can assure you that that entity behind that door is just a living thing like you. These nightmares of yours? Just cause and effect of your mother's foolish deeds. If you release it, allow it to live its life, you can free your mind of it all, and mourn your mother's condition.” In the room at the end of the hall, I saw bare glints of the eye-embossed wings shift their attention onto me. “Release it?” I said. “Yes, the right thing to do. Your nightmares will be gone from you and your sister. You will never be harmed again. Your mother might even recover. All you have to do is,” The man leaned close. “Choose.” I stared at the thing inside that room. It had stopped turning the crank to watch us, but the song continued. The suited man's eyes burned as he waited for my response. “You'd leave us alone? Forever?” I said. The suited man nodded. “Forever and forevermore.” “How would I do it?” I said. “There is no specific ritual. All you have to do is will it, focus your intent, and your will be done. Simple as a dark chocolate cake.” I was tired. Not just literally, but in all senses. Tired of my mother, tired of the nightmares and of May being alone. Tired. That's why I reached for the golden door handle. The door came closer to me, as if reaching for my touch in turn. The door was partly open, so I had to reach into the room, towards that thing. My arm faded to a dead gray as I did. The countless eyes on the monster's wings blinked. “Good. You will not regret your decision.” A creaking limb reached for me. That was when a purple butterfly drifted past my face. It glowed with a gentle light. My skin returned to its normal color as the butterfly landed on me, and I felt myself awaken. What was I doing? I was helping it? No, this was wrong. A small hand reached forward, grasping mine, and slammed the door shut on that thing. The suited man's grin cracked. “Go to hell.” May said. Countless purple butterflies fluttered from her and landed on the suited man. I heard a scream, or at least, that's the best thing I can call it. It echoed from both the monster and the suited man. It was an inhuman shriek that seemed to shake the world until suddenly, it stopped. I blinked. I was back in the hotel hallway. Several people were staring at me. I was holding the handle to a supply closet. A janitor at their cart nearby watched curiously. May had a hold on my hand still, and she was breathing quickly as if she had run a mile. Her arm looked pale. “Are you okay? Did the suited man get you?” May said. I let go of the door handle. “No, May. Sorry, I'm sorry.” “Don't be sorry. I won't let them get you, like I said.” She said. I felt my face flush as I glanced at the onlookers. Carol came up to us. “May, there you are– Megan? Where have you been? You never came back from talking to the front desk. Have you been here the whole time?” “I… I don't know.” I said. Carol glanced at everyone watching and led us away. “Come on. Let's get out of here,” Carol said. “Seems like we're not too welcome here.” “Maybe we should go to mom's now.” May said. I swallowed and nodded. “Let's pack our things then. I think it's time to go.” [Part 4](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17e65cv/the_silver_tune_part_4/)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17deqtl/the_silver_tune_part_3/

nosleep

WhisperWoodsStories

Ms. Laurie’s Power Pops [Part 2]

[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/yh77xs/ms\_lauries\_power\_pops/) I’d like to think of myself as a strong, independent, woman. I didn’t grow up having the best childhood. My father was absent, always off at work or the closest bar. My mother was left to take care of us kids, but it got too much and she shrugged off her responsibilities and turned to drugs instead. I was pretty much all alone growing up. Then I met him. Danny and I got together when I was eighteen. He saw me, understood me. We were two peas in a pod, him and I. Everyone thought we’d spend the rest of our lives together. We even got married. After I turned twenty-one and found out I was pregnant, instead of being overjoyed and ready to start a family with me, Danny did a legger. Got scared of the commitment and ran away. The coward sent me divorce papers right after I found out I was having twins and dipped. It’s okay. I didn’t need him. *We* didn’t need him. In the end, we turned out mostly alright. Hell, If I could parent two kids by myself, keep the lights on, and not go crazy then I thought I could handle anything that was thrown my way. Superpowers though? I don’t think you can find any instructions about how to handle those in any parenting guidebook. No guidebook could’ve prepared me for kids with superhuman abilities- especially when such abilities cause these children to go on murderous rampages. How the *fuck* am I supposed to do this? “H-how are you feeling, Jaime?” I asked the blood covered eight year old who just made a firework out of another little girl. “Get everything out of your system?” Jaime skipped along the sidewalk in her ruined Glinda the Good Witch Halloween costume, swinging her fake wand around merrily. “Yes, Mrs. Jennings! I feel a lot better,” she replied with a giggle. My gut bubbled with disgust. Jaime just used her mind to implode another kid and was over here laughing about it. I grabbed a hold of Ben’s hand and pushed him to my side where I held him tight. He squeezed himself into me for comfort. I wasn’t going to let anything happen to my boy. Not my girl either. I gave him the water bottle I’d brought along to wash leftover bits of Natalie off his wizard costume. Ben looked up at me with the same wary expression that showed on my face after he was done cleaning blood and guts off himself. I rubbed his shoulder reassuringly. Jaime liked us and we liked Jaime, as long as we didn’t do anything to upset her we’d make it out of this alive… probably. A sudden, devilish, smirk appeared on Jaime’s face. Before I knew it, she took off heading North, away from Ben and I. I let go of my son’s hand to chase after her. I didn’t want to think of what might happen to her if she went off all by herself in this chaos, or what she might do to someone else for that matter. “Jaime, sweetie, wait! Where are you going?” A similar light bulb went off over Ben’s head, “Mom, I think I know where Rosie is! Follow me!” My son took off running past me, faster than I’d ever seen him run before. Between Rosie and Ben, she was always the more athletic twin. Now that I mention it, he also looked stronger and more energetic than normal. I remembered him pouring most of the water bottle on himself and his ability to control water. Maybe with this new power of his, water made him faster, stronger, *better*. I ran after the two super children, not wanting to leave them unsupervised for long. Thankfully, there were still Rosie’s burnt footprints in the concrete to follow if I got left behind. As I followed Ben I recognized where we were heading. Jaime and Ben led me through the entrance of a local park on the edge of town. On the left side of the park sat a man-made lake about a mile wide and two miles long with a beach full of large stones and boulders instead of sand. In the middle was a large patch of land that had a picnic area, grass to run around in, and a full sized playground with a play set, swings, slides, merry-go-round, and even a seesaw. To the left was a small patch of woods that branched out into a few hiking trails of varying levels of difficulty. I eyed the dried out autumn trees suspiciously. If Rosemary had gone and hid in the forest, there’s no doubt she’d be able to cause a fire big enough to engulf the entire town. At the very least, Ben was there now and could probably use the lake water to put the fire out. It’s funny, I used to hate my kids playing over here in fear they might drown in the water, hurt themselves on the playground, or get lost in the woods. Now I’m looking at the environment in ways they can use their newfound powers to create apocalyptic scenarios and even stop them. Ben kept straight ahead and ran ahead of Jaime over to a large oak tree on the edge of the playground. In its lower branches sat a small treehouse. It looked decrepit and like it would collapse off the tree’s branches any minute. I noticed a small glowing light coming from within. Rosemary must be in there. Ben started climbing up the steps that had been nailed into the trunk of the tree. Now I know why they never told me about it. There’s no way I’d let them play in that thing. It probably wasn’t up to code and tetanus was bound to be festering in the structure. It was too late to chastise them about it now. I was just relieved to have found Rosie. I slowed my pace down after Ben had made it to the tree. A sudden bout of nausea caused me to stop and lean my body against a nearby bench. “Rosemary,” he shouted for his sister, “there you are! We looked all over town for you!” “Ben, what are you doing here?” Rosie asked, peeking her head out of the tree house's window. “We came for you!” I shouted, trying not to puke. I think all the adrenaline from previous events that happened in the night was leaving my system. My energy was drained, a slight headache was forming, and I’d broken out in a cold sweat. “Mommy… Mommy’s going to sit down for a little bit. She’s not feeling too well.” The kids didn’t seem to hear me, too invested in their own little super-powered kid drama. Ben made it halfway up the tree steps before he said, “C’mon Rosie, let’s go home! Mom says it isn’t safe out here.” “Yeah, Rosie, come down and plaaaaay!” Jaime giggled sadistically as she skipped around the bottom of the tree house. I didn’t like the tone that little girl used with my daughter. Sensing danger, I tried to pick myself up off the park bench to run interference. Something was off with my body, though. I didn’t have enough strength in me to carry my weight, so I ended up sinking back down into the bench. All I could pathetically yell out was, “Rosie? Ben?” Rosie sniffled. “G-go away, Jaime! This is *our* safe house!” “Jaime? What are you doing?” Ben asked in a concerned tone. I looked to see that same deadly stare in Jaime’s eyes from before. “I won’t let you bully me anymore, Rosie!” My heart sank to my stomach. My Rosie, a bully? I mean, I knew she could be pretty forward at times, but bully another child? Surely I’d taught her better than that? Wait- it all makes sense! It explains why she acted the way she did earlier in the night, why she was so quiet and timid. She didn’t want to reveal to me how she’d really been treating Jaime. Ooh that little girl is so getting a stern talking to later. That is if she doesn’t burn me like she does her marshmallows first. “I want to be included too! I want to play in the tree house!” Jaime laughed. “I hate bullies, and you wanna know what I do to bullies, Rosie?” She yelled out, on the verge of throwing a tantrum of epic proportions. A sudden creaking and groaning sound came from the foundation of the tree house. Dirt and dust started falling to the ground as the tree shook intensely. “Ahhhh!” Rosie screamed from inside. I heard things shuffling and falling around. My adrenaline kicked in once more as I thought about something heavy falling on Rosie, or her falling out of the tree house entirely. I managed to throw myself off the park bench. I landed on the ground on my hands and knees. An intense pressure was welling up within my gut. “Rosie!” I cried out, beginning to crawl. From deep within the recesses of the tree house, a small fireball emerged and landed about a yard away from Jaime. “Take that you witch!” Jaime snuffed the fire out with her shoe and picked up a nearby rock and chucked it into the doorway of the tree house. Ben jumped down from the tree and took a step towards Jaime. “Stay away from my sister!” “Make me,” Jaime challenged menacingly. She began that stare again. A pained grunt escaped me as I pushed myself closer to the battlefield. The pressure in both my gut and head crescendoed. I lost my balance and collapsed into a ball. Ben took notice and ran to me, changing his priorities. “M-mom? Are you okay?” He asked, rubbing my shoulders trying to comfort me. With what little strength I had left, I pushed him as far away from me as possible. “G-get away from mommy,” I said breathlessly. “I-I feel like I’m going to explo-“ A sudden and intense blast of energy released from inside me. I instantly felt relieved but drained at the same time. Looking up, I found multiple cracks in the ground in both the pavement and grass that were at least a foot wide, all stemming away from me. I noticed both Jaime and Ben were now several feet away from me, having been thrown a couple of feet in the blast. Rosie was holding onto the treehouse for dear life. Ben stirred after a minute, groaning slightly. D-did I do all that? Oh my god. I ate a lollipop… There’s no way! I have *superpowers?!* Jaime quickly recovered and started dragging Ben back to the tree house. Ben started kicking and screaming in terror. He outstretched his hand and started to command the lake water. Jaime shot her hand out, and like putting up an invisible wall, Ben’s water attack was thwarted by the invisible mass. The water splashed back and fell to the ground, creating a giant mud puddle. I caught a glimpse of Jaime’s face as she continued to drag my son. She was going to kill my kids. After whatever energy blast I’d released, I was still pretty weak. Weak, but enlightened. I knew what my power was and how to use it. I could feel the buzzing energy of the earth flowing beneath my feet. My ears were filled with the sound of worms digging their way through the dirt, water permeating between rocks underground, coal being pressured into diamonds. Straining my fragile frame, I stood up to face the deadly eight year old. Closing my eyes, I envisioned the Earth around me bending to my will. A vision of the larger boulders and rocks from the beach filled my head. A sudden pressure tugged in my tummy as I pulled the energy coming from them towards Jaime. “Get the hell away from my kids, you little shit!” I opened my eyes to a barrage of rocks floating over from the beach, quickly encasing the girl in a small, rocky, prison. “Get in the tree house!” I yelped. With how powerful Jaime was, I doubted that cage would last very long. Ben ran towards me and helped me over to the tree. I slowly but surely made my way up the steps. Since I had a good two feet on my children, it wasn’t that big of a climb to begin with. “Mommy!” Rosie yelled as she stuck her hand out for me to grab. I grabbed it for whatever support she could offer. She leapt into my arms as soon as I collapsed into the tree house. “You saved me!” I snuggled her into a quick hug. “Of course I’m going to save you, Rosie. You’re my daughter.” Ben entered the safety of the tree house a minute after I did. The sound of rocks crumbling and falling against each other rang through the air as a sudden rumble shook the tree. Jaime had freed herself. “Ben, what are you doing? Get away from the entrance!” I yelled. Half of his body was hanging out of the tree house so he could see Jaime. I scooted over to the window slowly, my frame barely able to fit inside the tree house. Jaime was at the bottom of the tree, about to climb up here. Ben moved the mud water from his previous attack and used it to slow Jaime down. He whipped the water across her cheek so fast and hard it cut her. She flinched back, wiped the blood flowing down her cheek, and continued climbing. Ben maneuvered his body so that his legs stuck out instead of his head. He waited until just the right spot and started kicking at Jaime, trying to prevent her from climbing up any further. I had no energy left within me to attack her again. Ben would have to win this battle on his own. Annoyed, Jaime swatted her hands, trying to deter Ben from kicking her hands. “Stop that! Let me up there!” She managed to get a grip on his ankle and dragged him forward a bit. One more pull and he’d fall. This move, however, helped Ben get a good kick in. “Leave us alone!” He managed to kick Jaime in the forehead hard enough for her to loosen her grip and fall back to the ground. She landed on her back with a sickening *crunch!* Part of me was worried for Jaime. That fall was not a good one and she could be seriously injured. The other part of me felt relieved. I wanted her to be dead. Lord knows the little bitch deserved it. Rosemary crawled towards the entrance, getting a good look at Jaime’s limp body lying there. She covered her mouth in shock. Ben started to climb out of the treehouse. “I’m going to check on her! She could be seriously hurt!” I reached out for Ben’s shoulder, trying to stop him, but he was too fast. If anyone should’ve gone down to check on her it should’ve been me, but he took the advantage of already being in the doorway to get ahead of me. Before I knew it, he was on the ground hovering over Jaime’s, hopefully, corpse. Rosie and I watched from above eagerly. “Die!” Jaime screamed, suddenly opening her eyes and grabbing Ben by his throat. He grabbed her wrists, trying to wriggle himself free of her grasp. It looked like he was losing. I think I saw blood starting to drip down from his ear. “Ben! No!” I screamed, lurching my body out of the tree house trying to grab him. *Thunk!* Suddenly a dart was shot into Jaime’s neck and she fell limp again. Taking the opportunity, Ben got up and pressed himself up against the trunk of the tree. “P-please!” He pleaded, beginning to tremble,” Don’t hurt me!” I moved my gaze to the direction he was looking in. At the entrance of the park was a camouflaged Hummer H 1. Guys wearing military special ops gear had flooded the park in lines, using night vision goggles to scope out their targets. Ben’s pleas went unanswered as another *Thunk!* sounded through the air. They shot another one of those dart thingies into his shoulder. He was out in an instant. A military guy grabbed both Jaime and Ben, slinging them each over a shoulder and carried them away to the Hummer. “Ben!” Rosie screamed. Before she could throw another fireball, I quickly grabbed Rosie and scrambled to the furthest corner in the tree house. I covered her nose and mouth with my hand to stifle any noise she’d make. I covered my own mouth to stifle my whimpers. I knew they heard her scream. They knew we were up here. It wouldn’t be long until they came for the two of us. “Shh, sweetie. Everything’s going to be alright, okay?” I whispered to Rosie as I began to stroke her hair slowly. Tears started welling in my eyes. There was no way I’d be able to take on all those soldiers by myself. Not in my condition and to mention the only Earth at my disposal right about now would be the tree and tree house. I clutched my daughter closer to me, burying her face in my chest. The creaking sound of someone climbing up the tree trunk alerted me to the encroaching presence. I wished we could be invisible in that moment. That whatever military operative was about to climb into the tree house would find nothing in here. Just rotted rickety old wood and toys. Not me and my daughter. I wished we just blended in, like a chameleon. Another tugging sensation came from my gut. I shut my eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable. The sudden flash of light from a flashlight shown in my eyes caused my eyelids to flicker open. I locked eyes with the man whose upper half was propped inside the treehouse. He was in full tactical gear and everything. Attached to his flashlight was a scary looking rifle. A second later, after it felt like he was done staring into my soul, he did another sweep of the small play fixture with his flashlight before shouting down to the rest of his team, “All clear! Whoever we heard up here must’ve escaped somehow.” I blinked back my shock. He hadn’t seen us? *Really?* I looked down at my hands. I couldn’t see anything, just the floor of the tree house. My skin had turned translucent. I looked at Rosie, whose skin was invisible just like mine. My body collapsed with relief and I let go of my daughter. Her skin turned back to normal after mine stopped touching hers. A second later my skin also returned to normal. I felt Rosie start to shudder and sob. I rubbed her shoulder and pressed her tighter into me so the military guys outside wouldn’t hear her. I didn’t fully relax until I heard the engine of the Hummer kick to life and the vehicle drove away. “Mom!” Rosemary gasped, looking at me in awe, ”You were invisible!” “I-“ a sigh escaped my lips, “I know sweetie.” I didn’t know how or why, but somehow I had manifested two powers instead of one. Rosie started to cry again. “It’s my fault! It’s all my fault!” I wiped the tears off of her cheeks that were still smudged with ash. “No it isn’t, Rosie. None of this is even remotely your fault.” She pushed herself away from me and huddled herself into the corner. “It is! It’s my fault Ben is gone. These stupid powers make me destroy everything I touch. If I hadn’t listened to stupid Natalie and bullied Jaime just to fit in, she wouldn’t have attacked us. You should’ve let me be. Let Jaime kill me, even. This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t follow me!” “We’ll get him back, Rosemary,” I rubbed her shoulder gently, trying not to cry after registering her words. These were things no seven year old should ever be saying. “I promise you! Hey, I- I’ll even teach you how to control your powers, okay?” “Really?” She asked, turning out of the corner to face me. She had a hopeful expression on her face, and for a second, I knew everything was going to be okay. I gave her a reassuring smile. “Really.The bad men are going to pay for taking your brother away from us.” She crawled back into my arms where we hugged. I looked out the window of the tree house. The kiss of dawn was upon us. The dark night sky was becoming lighter in the horizon as the sun started to rise for the day. I brought Rosie to my chest again as I began to hum a soft lullaby to soothe her. We’d both had a very rough night. We both needed a little rest. As my mind finally had the opportunity to process the nights events, I couldn’t help but saying, “Oh my god, my life is turning into fucking *Firestarter.*”

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17d18ye/ms_lauries_power_pops_part_2/

nosleep

spnsuperfan1

If You Find Yourself With a Friend in the Woods, Don't Split Up

We all have that one friend that we have been friends with for longer than we can remember. Mine was Bella. I think our parents met each other during some work thing, but truthfully, I never really desired to know more. I was perfectly content with our friendship in the present. We were born only 3 weeks apart, at the same hospital. As kids, we played games every day. We ran through bright green backyards and got yelled at by our neighbors, but we didn't care, we were just a couple of kids looking for fun. For years, we did everything together, we rode the bus to and from school. When I got my driver's license, we carpooled through the rest of junior year. Then came summer. We expected to have a lively summer. Whether it was by the pool at her house or inside playing video games at mine, we were gonna conquer summer together. We never did enjoy going out to the public pool though. We were both introverted so we isolated ourselves as much as we could from the noise of others. The summer was flying by and we were starting to get bored of the things we had done for the past month. In the hasty search to cure our boredom, we stumbled upon something we had not done in over eight years, explore the forest behind Bella's house. When we were kids, this forest was our own haunted house. The only difference is that it went on for miles. Oh and also that you didn't know if you would get out or not. Our parents told us stories of kids who went in but never came out, but they seemed like the typical, "keep your kid from doing something you do not want them to do," stories. Like if you're parent tells you, "If you stay up on Christmas night, Santa may not come." They want to protect your innocence. When we entered the forest, the feelings I used to get as a kid entering that place were nowhere to be seen. The tall trees that I used to think maybe hiding something behind them simply looked like trees. Me and Bella strolled through the woods for a while when she stopped. "Wait a second," she said with a slight question in her voice, "Do you recognize this place?" Confused by this I responded, "It looks just like everything we have been walking by for the last 30 minutes." "No, look!" She shouted enthusiastically while pointer her finger at a large rock that protruded from the earth at an almost 90-degree angle. "JaBel Fort!" Sure enough, the rock had the words "JaBel Fort" with a crude arrow below carved into the rock. JaBel Fort used to be mine and Bel's hangout spot in the woods. The name is a mix of our names, Jay and Bella. It had been so long since I even thought about it, I couldn't believe it may have still existed. *Ring, Ring! Ring, Ring!* My phone began to cry out from my pocket. I looked at it to see who may be calling me. Of course, it was my Mom. She for some reason has to ask me something at the most random parts of the day. She could ask my dad, but he is at work so that is why she has resorted to me. "Hey Bel, hold on a sec. My Mom is calling," I tell her. "Ugh, fine. I'm going to take a look to see if the fort is still there," she said slightly annoyed, "Maybe the ghosts of our childhoods will be there." "Yeah ok, I'll meet you there. Don't go too far," I added as I began to put the phone towards my ear, "You don't want to go missing," I said with a chuckle. "Who is going missing," sparked my Mom from the other end of the line. "Geez Mom, nobody," I reassured, "We are just looking through the woods." "Be careful honey," she said with a comforting tone. "We will Mom. What do you need anyway?" I asked quickly "Oh yes, do you know where the garlic is? I'm trying to make dinner," she responded. "I think it is in the lower right cabinet," I answered "Let me take a look," she says as she strains to crouch down, "Got it!" "Alright Mom, see you later," I say trying to get off the phone as quickly as possible. "Bye, honey. Please don't be too late back," she says in a slightly sharper tone. "You got it," I reply before I hang up. This was quickly followed by a text message from my Mom. ​ Text Message from, Creator of Life❤️: Forgot to mention that your dad will be coming home late. He is working on that project. ​ I simply read the message and then clicked the button on the side making the screen go black. Once I returned my phone to my left side pocket, I looked around and saw no sign of Bella. "Bel!" I shouted down the path the arrow was pointing. "Guess it was farther out than I thought," I said to myself as began to trek down the path. The snapping of sticks seems to echo every couple of steps which fills the otherwise silent, slightly dark, forest. I then reached JaBel Fort, or what was left of it. Surprised by its existence, I began to dig through the mess of dead sticks that were left for years to rot. Then I realized, where is Bella? I told her to meet me at the fort but she wasn't there. "BELLA!" "BELLA!" I call out at the top of my lungs but nothing but the chilling silence of what seems like a never-ending forest calls back to me. Realizing that calling her name was not birthing any new information to me, I sprinted home and then stopped. "I should call her," I thought to myself. As my phone sprung back into my hand and my fingers quickly jumped across the screen, I remembered. She was grounded and had her phone taken away a week ago. Noticing that my options were few to none, I kept moving forward, back home. Maybe she was bored and went home without telling me? She did seem pretty annoyed when she started down the path to the fort. I thought that my best bet was to return home and maybe my mom could get in contact with her parents. I did think about returning to her house, but at this point in the woods, I knew from past years of experience that I was actually closer to my house than hers. Bursting through the door of my house I called for my Mom. After a quick explanation, she was on the phone with Mrs. Charles, Bella's mom. "Cindy says that Bella came home around 10 minutes ago," she says as her hand places the phone back on the stand. "Why wouldn't she let me know she was leaving?" I asked my Mom. "I'm not sure hon," She replied, "Dinner wont be ready for 30 minutes. you can go over and ask if you want." Shortly after she said this I was putting one foot out the door followed by the other. I quickly reached the Charles' house and rhythmically knocked like I always did. As the door swung open, I was greeted by Bella. "How can I help you?" She asked emotionless. "Why did you leave without telling me?" I quickly fired back As if she snapped into the personality of herself she quickly responded. "I didn't mean to Jay. I tried to call out to you to let you know that I had to leave but you didn't hear anything." "Oh..." I hesitated, "I guess not." "Well thank god you made it back okay," I added. "Yeah, I sure did," she responded in a simple tone. Then the door shut. The next morning I sprinted over to Bella's house and did my signature knock. The first to the door was Mrs. Charles. "Why Hello, Jay," she gasped. Mrs. Charles seemed to get surprised at the most minute things. I returned the greeting and entered the foyer of the house. Bella came downstairs right when I entered. "Wanna do something today Bel?" I chirped. "Uh, yeah sure I guess," she responded timidly. "Looks like it might rain today so probably best if we stayed inside," I suggested. "That's fine with me. We can go to your house," she sluggishly answered. A couple of hours passed by when I realized that Bella had not spoken in what felt like an eternity. We were playing video games so I didn't think much about it, but quickly noticed that she wasn't even playing. I had been with bots this whole time. "What's wrong Bel?" I quickly asked. "I just don't feel great today," she answered while scratching her head. That's when a large, brown lock of her hair fell to the tan carpet of my basement. As my eyes followed its descent to the floor, concern grew within me. As I gazed back up, my eyes locked on to the perfectly bald section of her head. The hair had been expelled down to the roots. She quickly bolted from the room, from what I assumed was embarrassment, leaving me speechless and staring at the chunk of hair lying on the carpet. In an effort not to embarrass her anymore, I cleaned it up and kept to myself for the rest of the day. Well... almost the rest of the day. I decided to head over to her house again around 7:30 P.M. When I arrived at the door, I realized that the house was silent and the lights were off. Despite the unwelcoming nature of the dark porch, I stepped up to the door and knocked three times. Each knock being evenly spaced. *Knock, Knock, Knock* No response. Once again I knock. *Knock, Knock, Knock* While I wait for an answer, my head falls down to where my eyes are locked at my feet. There I see a small trail of dark red fluid from under the door. Please no. Please no I think to myself. Sick of waiting and curious, I reach for the handle to open the door when it pushes open. I had been so focused on the ground that I didn't realize the door was actually cracked open the whole time. Entering the house, I am greeted by pure darkness. I reach for my phone and fiddle with it until I get my flashlight to click on. I strain my eyes in an attempt to make out what the dim light is illuminating when my whole body recoils and ceases any subconscious I was performing before. There on the floor of the foyer, I had been in less than 12 hours earlier, was Mr. Charles. His limbs were bent in unnatural angles and his skin was covered in deep cuts that had clearly been bleeding before I arrived. I assumed that was his blood that had crept under the front door, but it seemed like he had none left in his body to expel. I then moved my light up his torso and to his head where I began to vomit. His Jaw was dislocated so much that it looked like it was trying to break out of his own skin. Then I saw his eyes. They were hanging down his cheeks, only held on by the nerves that originated from the back of the sockets. In total shock at what I had stumbled upon, I continued my trek through the house guided by the white light coming out the front of my phone. Blood and strands of hair covered the floors of the house. Then I found Mrs. Charles. She was in her bedroom lying on her bed. She had suffered a similar fate as her husband but instead of the blood running onto the floor, that deep red corrupted the sheets she inhabited. It was impossible to tell what the original color of the sheets was. Next to her bed was a large book with a thick spine that I picked up in case the monster that did this to them was still in the house. I then looked for Bella. Suddenly I got a text from my mom ​ Text Message from, Creator of Life❤️: Oh my god honey, they found a girl's body in the woods. It's Bella look \[REDACTED LINK\] I'm so sorry. ​ As my world begins to crumble around me, I skim through the article. One line catches my attention. "Police say that the girl, age 16, probably died around 24 hours ago" 24 hours ago. I have been hanging out with her in the last 24 hours. Or have I? As I scrolled through the article in search of answers, I began to hear sounds from down the hall. I shined my light, casting all that was in front of me in a dim light. In the middle of the faint beam, a door pokes through. Walking up to the door, the sounds begin to take shape. Pushing open the door gently, the words begin to take shape. They weren't sentences, simply words all jumbled one after another. The voice that spoke them was a raspy tone that fluctuated in pitch. It sounded as if someone was practicing a new language, but also trying to make their voice sound feminine. I then let my sight enter the room. There in the corner, crouched down on all fours was a hairless pale creature that had the rough outline of a human figure but with the skin shrink-wrapped to its bones. My breath halted as I realized the few strands of long brown hair that sprouted loosely from its pale, bald, head. That was the Bella that I was hanging out with earlier in the day, but not the same one I was exploring the woods with 24 hours earlier. This realization brought my breath back abruptly which alerted it of me. It turned to me and stared straight into my eyes. There was nothing behind its eyes. Its face was contorted in unnatural ways. Before I could even think, the creature was crawling on all fours towards me. "I'm not going to become another one of your victims!" I shouted as I ran towards it holding the large book I had grabbed. When I reached the thing, I bought the stiff spine of the book directly down onto the face of it. Fueled by the grief that overwhelmed me, I struck it a second time which caused a black fluid to begin to splash and flow from the abrasions I had just manufactured. Then it began to laugh. A deep, raspy laugh that only made me strike it harder and harder. With each hit, the laugh became more distorted as more black liquid coated every surface in the room. Tears streamed down my face and began to land on what was left of the face that I continuously pummeled. I didn't stop until the laughing stopped. I sat back in relief. Tears still marinated my cheeks as I left the house of my dead best friend. This morning I woke up in a panic. Quickly, a woman in blue scrubs came over to calm me down. "Where am I?" I asked urgently, "What happened?" "Well," She started, "You are at Spring River Hospital. Someone brought you in saying they found you not responsive on the side of \[THE NAME OF MY STREET\]. For how you got there, we were wondering if you may know." "I don't remember anything," I responded. Honestly, I did remember but I knew they wouldn't understand. As the nurse walked out, my Dad took her place and entered the dull white room. "Hey kid, how are you doing?" he asked in a tired tone. "I'm doing fine Dad," I responded with a slight grin. "You seem to have gone through a lot," he said, "I just wanted to check in, I will leave you be." I stayed quiet as he turned to leave the room. As he began to step away I looked down to my phone but then back up quickly. Just before he vanished around the doorway, I saw something that shook me to my core. A small patch on the back of his head where there was no hair. Just pale smooth skin.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17cwmyj/if_you_find_yourself_with_a_friend_in_the_woods/

nosleep

Not-da-real-me

My girlfriend took me camping.

I just want to start by saying that dating is hard. Once you get past all the bots, ads, and scammers and meet a real person, the guessing game begins. Why is this person actually available right now? Are they really just down on their luck, or is it something else that you're happier not knowing? Then, once you figure out their deep dark secrets, the question becomes, are they willing to put up with your deep dark secrets? This process can take weeks to sort out, usually resulting in a dead end somewhere, forcing you to start over. The whole thing is frustrating, demeaning, and humiliating enough that you're physically and emotionally exhausted, making you just want to give up and be a loner. Now I know what you're wondering. "What's this got to do with anything?" Well, it's kinda simple. A little bit ago, I wrote about how my girlfriend, Wendy, never eats and that I heard some...unsettling things at her house the last time I visited. Well, I decided to keep seeing Wendy. Sure, she might have some...unusual habits, but she makes me feel good about myself, and I'm happy with her. So what if she never eats or chases off bears while nude in the middle of the night? Compared to returning to the dating scene, that's really not so bad. We even have nicknames for each other now: Country Girl and City Boy. I'll let you guess which is which. Anyway, that's a rather long and roundabout way of saying that, yeah, I went on that camping trip with her, and things didn't go quite how I expected. First off, I wanna say that she was right. The forest really is beautiful. The sun's heat, combined with the coolness of the shade, while listening to the insects drone lazily in the background, seems to slow time to a crawl, making each breath a relaxing experience in and of itself. It's entirely unlike anything you'll experience during your morning commute. Combine all that with the right company, and soon you'll wonder why you'd ever return. And let me tell you, Wendy is one hundred percent the right company. Wendy was quick with tips to make the hike easier, from how to properly distribute your pack load to how to lace your shoes for maximum comfort. During the trek to where we were going to set up camp, she alternated between offering interesting bits of information about the local flora and fauna and walking in silence, allowing me to get lost in the experience. The whole affair made me want to give up the city life and move to the country. There was just one thing during the walk that wasn't as pleasant as everything else. At one point, we must have walked too close to a skunk or a rotting carcass or something because the whole area around us started to reak. At first, it wasn't so bad, but eventually, it got so strong it made me want to gag. I jokingly mentioned it to Wendy, but she just looked ahead like she was determined and told me, "Pick up the pace. We'll be past it soon enough." Sure enough, we eventually got past the smell, and things quickly became pleasant again. The rest of the hike passed without incident, and Wendy even helped me set up the tent. Her evident experience in the matter showed through because it took no time. Soon enough, everything was ready, and we even had a nice, cheerful fire roaring. This time, when she pulled out the supplies for dinner, I didn't even bat an eye when it was clearly only enough for one. Whatever was going on with her, this was just the way it was going to be. It was up to me to accept that or move on, and I'd made my call. But I have to say, for someone who never seems to eat, she sure knows how to sear a steak to perfection! After a pleasant evening and an even more pleasant night, we passed out in the tent together while listening to the crickets and the more distant owls. But of course, if that's all that happened, I wouldn't be writing about it here. Sometime during the night, I awoke to find I was alone in the tent. This wasn't too unexpected because Wendy was both an outdoor enthusiast and a bit of a night owl. I debated calling out to her, but something in the air felt like I shouldn't disturb it with such an out-of-place sound. However, Mother Nature did have her demands, and it was time to answer her call. As I unzipped the tent and stepped out, I couldn't help but look up into the night sky. The stars were breathtaking. You never see this many this vibrant in the city. However, their beauty couldn't distract me for long in the face of more...urgent demands. Do you know that feeling when you've been holding it in a little too long and finally experience relief? If it weren't for my experiences earlier that night, I might be tempted to claim it is better than sex, but we'll just say it was still pretty euphoric. Maybe it distracted me from the fact that all the usual night sounds had suddenly gone quiet, but it couldn't distract me from the sudden smell of rotting flesh. It was even stronger than it had been on the trail and was accompanied by the kind of fear that you usually feel when you're very young and just starting to wonder if there might be reasons sounds go bump in the night. I gagged as I struggled to cut off the stream, zip up my pants, and retreat into the tent again. Once in the tent, I reached for the flashlight, then hesitated. I desperately wanted to see better, but something in the back of my mind told me it was better to remain hidden. Of course, I don't know how well-hidden a blue tent in the middle of the forest can be, but turning on a flashlight would be like activating a beacon for everything within a few miles to see. I sat in the dark for I don't know how long, feeling my heart pound through my chest loud enough that I was sure whatever was out there could hear it clearly. Thankfully, the smell eventually faded, but I was still so high on adrenaline that I knew I wouldn't sleep another wink for the rest of the night. Or so I thought. The following day, I awoke with Wendy cuddled in my arm, with one of her legs and arms draped over me, and once again, she was totally nude. Now, I was pretty sure she'd put on some pajamas before going to bed, but as she stirred and I got a good look at what was on display, I suddenly didn't care all that much. Eventually, she smiled lazily up at me and spoke. "You sleep alright, City Boy? You seemed to have some pretty rough dreams in the middle of the night..." At the time, those words made perfect sense. In the light of day, it seemed pretty clear that whatever happened last night was probably just a vivid dream brought on by the experiences of the day before and an unfamiliar environment. After a bit more time together, we decided to get up and tackle another day in the forest. However, when I finally crawled out of the tent, I could see our entire camp was in disarray. It was like something had gone through and tossed everything around. A few of the more delicate items were totally demolished. After a moment, I called out. "Ummm, hey... You might wanna take a look at this..." As Wendy crawled out of the tent, she made a face. "Must have been a bear. They usually don't come out this way, so I wasn't too worried about them. I guess that's on me, sorry." A bear, that kind of made sense. At least, I told myself so. As we were cleaning up, I even saw tracks, though, in my inexperience as a city boy, I would have said they belonged to a dog, not a bear. A huge dog. Maybe a wolf? What was even odder was when I found what looked like hoof prints. Looking at the prints, I realized that deer must be much bigger than they look on TV since they were more than twice as long as my hand. There isn't much more to say about the day. We fixed the place up, had breakfast, went on a hike, made dinner, and called it a night, with a few other minor activities sprinkled throughout. I was back to enjoying the trip, so much so that I had mostly forgotten about the night before. But that night is when things took a bit of an unexpected turn. Once again, I awoke in the middle of the night. Thankfully, I wasn't alone this time, as Wendy was still asleep, half on top of me again. However, that stench was back and stronger than ever. It was amazing how bright it seemed in the tent. It must have been a full moon, or at least nearly full, because I could clearly see the shadow of a large deer pass between us and the night sky. But there was something wrong with this deer. It was clearly too tall, as if it was standing on hind legs, and when it opened its mouth, I could even make out a mouthful of very sharp teeth. I couldn't help it. I felt myself breathing more heavily by the second as my heart rate skyrocketed. My mind went blank when I suddenly felt Wendy stir. Remembering the presence of my considerably smaller girlfriend, I suddenly felt protective, as if I couldn't let anything happen to her. I was just about to tell her to be quiet when I noticed her looking up at me with a finger on her lips as if telling me to do the same. Then she whispered to me, "Stay in the tent!" and started to get up. I don't know what I was thinking or *if* I was thinking. All I knew was I couldn't let Wendy go out to face whatever that was, so I reached out and grabbed her wrist before she could exit the tent. However, when she looked back at me, I released her immediately, almost as scared of her as whatever was outside the tent. Her eyes reflected light back at me like a cat's, and I could see the nails on her hand growing as I watched. In half a moment, she turned back around, opened the tent, and climbed outside. I will never forget the sound I heard at that moment. After I got home, I looked up the calls of a bunch of wild animals, and in hindsight, I'd say it was like a compilation of an elk call, a rabbit's scream, and a mountain lion scream, but impossibly loud. Wendy shouted in answer, her tiny human voice sounding so frail in comparison. At least it did until it started to change, morphing and twisting into the howl of an impossibly large wolf. I couldn't help it. I peeked out the tent flap, and standing in front of the tent was what I could only describe as a werewolf. The little five-foot-and-change Wendy was now standing at least seven feet tall, covered in fur with claws and fangs that looked like they could tear through steel, and she looked ready for murder. Then, some movement on the opposite end of our camp drew my attention, and I witnessed a living nightmare that suddenly made a werewolf seem like less of a problem. It looked kind of like a deer if a deer had more articulated limbs far too long for its body. The feet ended in hooves, but the hands ended in long bony claws. The whole thing looked desiccated, its skin drawn so tight over its ribs and arms you could make out the skeleton beneath. The fur was spotty and looked partially rotted, with open holes leaking bodily fluids that should never see light. Its teeth were long and serrated, clearly meant for tearing rather than chewing. I sometimes hear hunters talking about deer being eight or ten points, but if I had to estimate, this thing had a thirty-point antler, with many of the tines covered in what I suspected to be dried viscera from previous victims. The two monsters charged each other. The nightmare, which I now know was a wendigo, lowered its head, intending to impale its opponent, but at the last second, Wendy threw herself nearly flat on the ground, only to rocket up into the wendigo, latching onto its long neck with her powerful jaws while her hind feet kicked gouges into its vulnerable stomach. However, the wendigo didn't seem willing to give up that easily and tossed Wendy aside. She hit the ground hard and was soon set upon by the other monster. She raised an arm to defend herself, only for the wendigo to latch on with its own teeth, easily tearing through her skin and muscles. With a powerful kick, Wendy pushed the nightmare back, then started swiping at him over and over, making it loose ground. However, lowing its head, the wendigo charged forward again, and this time, Wendy wasn't fast enough as the wendigo caught her on his antlers and flipped her over his back, with new blood darkening the tips of the tines. But that was its downfall as Wendy sprung up and again latched onto its neck with her teeth, this time from behind. The nightmare struggled in vain, occasionally raking Wendy with his claws, but she refused to let go and began ripping and tearing her way through its neck until she grabbed hold of its antlers, and with one final jerk, the head came free. I don't have the heart to describe what came next, but let's just say the sound of flesh being torn and eaten is much more distinct through the thin membrane of a tent than a closed cabin window. Time passed. At least an hour, maybe two or three. It's hard to say for sure. I don't know what I expected to happen next; maybe I was going to be next, or perhaps I'd wake up from this nightmare, but eventually, the adrenaline passed, my eyes grew heavy, and I fell asleep again. When I awoke in the morning, I was alone this time. There was no sign Wendy had come back. I'd half hoped she'd still be here, telling me I'd had another nightmare, but I don't think I would have believed it again. It was kind of sad and lonely packing up our things by myself. I debated bringing Wendy's stuff with me, but I'm not that good of a hiker and wasn't confident I could pull it off, so I just left her things in her pack inside the tent. When I exited the tent, I was more than a little surprised to see Wendy sitting calmly by the fire pit with no wounds in sight. She smiled sadly. "So, I guess I owe you an explanation." I remember hesitating, my mind blank, before I settled on the thought I had earlier. "What, you're not going to try and convince me it was a nightmare again?" She looked around at all the destruction in the campsite. Earth was kicked up, trees had claw marks gouged out, and there were signs of blood splatter everywhere. "I didn't think I could convince you this time..." I nodded as I looked around. "Yeah, I guess not..." Then, I looked back at her. "You know, for a bit there, I was starting to think you were the monster eating people out here!" Wendy pointed at herself, then laughed. "Wait, me? Wendy the wendigo? Don't you think that's a little too on the nose?" I couldn't help it. As weird and messed up as everything was, as disturbing as everything I learned was, this was the Wendy I knew and cared for. So, I laughed with her, "Yeah... maybe so..." Long story short, we're still together. Sure, my girlfriend might be a seven-foot-tall monster that eats other monsters for fun, but everyone has their quirks. Besides, dating is hard, [and I'm happy where I am...](https://www.reddit.com/r/HFY/wiki/authors/drblackjack21/)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17ckori/my_girlfriend_took_me_camping/

nosleep

DrBlackJack21

Don't drink Ramses' Redshine

Back in my frat days, I was one of the guys helping with the hazing. It wasn’t a glamorous job, but it was nowhere near the kind of horror you see in the college movies. It wasn’t just about humiliation, it was about getting to know people and dedicating yourself. They say that the best way to befriend someone is to ask them to do something for you – that way they are invested in you. It’s harder to justify disliking someone, or something, if you’ve done them a favor. That’s why we ask so much of our new pledges. Time, sweat, and dedication. More often than not, we get it. It might be community outreach, small jobs, charity events, fundraising… all kinds of stuff. Like the year before me, where four of the pledges had a background in IT – we effectively set up a campus computer support hotline. Crazy days. In my final college year, we had a more intense hazing than usual. The guy who was in charge had seen a few too many college flicks and went a bit overboard. To make up for it, we decided we were just gonna do something fun and stupid for the final night of hell week. Rick, the guy who handled our finances, came up with the idea of a softball game. Then some asshole added to that; “What about a softball… drinking game?” ​ So that’s how it started. We were gonna play a game where everyone had a drink in their hand. You couldn’t touch the ball or bases unless your cup was empty, and we’d have a refill station right by the batter, and another further out in the field. It was gonna be a complete shit-show, but a funny one. Something to let a little steam off. Previous years, we had a guy who could make his own alcohol. Cheap stuff. A moonshiner named Elton, lived not too far out of town, and made stuff from some kind of bark. Real prepper kind of guy. That year, Elton was having trouble with the law (not too surprising), so we had to try to find another guy. Rick had the brilliant idea to check Craigslist. ​ We ended up with a guy out in suburbia. This strange loner kind of guy who made his own hooch in his back yard. We talked to him a couple of times and decided to go see him in person. There was no point tiptoeing around it. The guy was a weirdo, but we were asking for something weird, so it kinda worked itself out. The guy was named Ramses. That tells you half the story right there. Lived in this huge two-story house all by his lonesome; not even a cat. He looked like pretty much anyone. Tall, lanky guy with slick horn-rimmed glasses. Had a quiet voice, but a sturdy handshake. Shook our hands and immediately showed us his garage. ​ He had half his garage full of just… boxes. This guy was taking and making deliveries on the daily, it seemed. He had a workbench with a bottling kit, a scale, and a label-maker. I couldn’t see what he was putting labels on though. He talked to us like we were on a tour as we made our way over the mounds of empty boxes. “Been working on this stuff on and off for years,” he said. “Got three fresh batches rolling out on Monday.” “Can you get it by Saturday?” asked Rick. “It’s kinda last minute, but we got a game.” “Saturday?” Ramses turned towards us, stroking his beardless chin. After a few seconds, he nodded. “If I heat it a bit, maybe. Could work. But that’s gonna cost ya’ extra.” “Not too fast,” I smiled. “We’re tryin’ it first.” Ramses looked at us. We had a solid six seconds of quiet before he nodded and reached for a couple glasses. ​ The liquid had a strange smell to it. It was like a very mild fungal whiff, mixed with old water, and salt. Upon closer inspection, there was a clear mix of bark – possibly pine. It had a mild discoloration. Red, almost, and a sort of heft to it. Texture. Ramses explained as he poured. “Mostly sunflower seeds, maple, and a bit of blueberry. Oily, but, uh… rich.” I declined, as the designated driver. Before Rick had a chance to down it, Ramses added a little drink mix. Coconut, I think. Rick chugged it, wincing a bit at the taste. He looked up at me with a deep cringe. “No fucking coconut,” he spat. “Holy shit, that’s vile.” “I like it,” shrugged Ramses. Rick kept nodding at him, over and over. “Yeah, uh… this’ll do. This’ll fuckin’ do.” ​ We ordered three kegs for the softball game and went on our merry way. I didn’t think twice about it, I wasn’t the one holding the money. Ramses told us it’d be tricky, and that he’d need as much time as possible, so he promised to drive up there with it himself. All we had to do was bring whatever drink-mixes we wanted, and enough ice to freeze a gaggle of penguins. We were all getting excited for it – especially the pledges. We had sort of a “new guard old guard” kinda match-up, and it was gonna be nice to just let off some steam. For the rest of the week, everything boiled down to shit-talking the other team in good fun, printing custom jerseys, and making chants. People were going crazy for it, and I wasn’t about to stop them. Once Saturday rolled around, we made our way out to a secluded spot – an abandoned schoolyard just out of town. Most of us got there after lunch classes ended. We took our time setting up tables, snacks, and drinks. And of course, a beer pong table for those who couldn’t play for one reason or another. Bluetooth speakers rocked “Shook me all night long” hours before the first pledges arrived. ​ We were starting to worry that Ramses had just taken the money and ran. It wasn’t much cash, but the guy had some definite scumbag vibes to him. But at about two in the afternoon, he rolled up with his semi and dropped it all off. He was gone long before I even got the chance to thank him. We filled up the coolers as best we could with various mixes and what we’d dubbed “Ramses’ Redshine” by now, thanks to the strange coloration. It was forbidden to start drinking until the first ball had been thrown though, as to not pre-party ourselves into an early forfeit. One by one, the pledges dropped in. The new guard had dressed up in various shades of red, while us seniors were all blue. To round it all off, we had judges dressed in white stripes. We hadn’t really planned on it being a patriotic theme, but goddamnit, we were gonna lean into it. I was so hyped for it, until it was time to draw straws for designated driver. You can guess who pulled the short one. ​ I was put in charge of music and, if need be, driving. In return, I got a free pass to drink at the next event. It just kinda sucked that I’d be the only sober person at the last outing of the hazing. I was kinda bummed about it, but it was nice seeing everyone so relaxed. Good vibes all around. The game was on. First cup of the game was chugged by Brandon. Didn’t quite make it all the way but made a decent first run. The outfielders were eager to get drunk and were already sipping their drinks in-between batters. Slogans and cheers were being thrown back and forth, and I could see a few in the back row already getting into the groove. And that should’ve been it. That should’ve been the whole night. Nothing else was supposed to happen, just… bros being bros. ​ But something *did* happen. ​ What happened next is why the frat isn’t allowed to drink anymore. Why people get quiet when they talk about what is now an eight year old party legend. Why some people fell off the map, and why others are only talked about in hushed tones. But it wasn’t obvious from the start. ​ I sat by the sidelines all day long. To me, it all just looked like drunk guys doing drunk things. Someone slipping. Some people hugging a little too hard. It didn’t seem all that irregular, until one of the guys in the back row stepped out of line – drunk off his ass. I don’t think he even had that much, maybe like… two cups. This guy, Stephen, was not a lightweight. Got in on a football scholarship. So Stephen steps up to me and pulls out his car keys. I figured he wanted me to make sure he didn’t drive. But no, instead he put the keys between his fingers, like some kind of improvised claw, and stared at me. His eyes were pulsing. Like, I could see the blood push through them. Breathing. ​ He leaned in, inches from my face. Eyes so big I could see myself in them. “I was an eagle,” he whispered. “In the other world, I was a fucking *eagle*.” ​ He let out this shrill, animalistic screech, and just started slashing at me. He was nowhere near close, but I fell out of my chair trying to get away. When he realized he’d missed, he just started stabbing into the nearby table, over and over, bloodying his hands – screeching like a fucking maniac. I backed off, expecting someone to pull him away – but no one did. Instead, my attention turned to whatever was happening out on the field. *Fucking pandemonium.* ​ One of the guys had fallen to his knees next to second base, screaming at the top of his lungs; “I’ll never forgive them! I’ll never forgive them!” … as he clutched the base plate. Two guys started fist-fighting, one of them claiming he ‘died a mother of three’, and another crying about how he would be ‘six generations of leeches’. One of the judges tore off his jersey, shrieking to the sky. “I was born of machines! A world without sun!” ​ It devolved so fast. Their pulsing eyes and convulsing movement, turning them from partygoers into… whatever. All in a few minutes. Screaming out nonsense, contorting their bodies like they were remembering something they weren’t. As I turned to run, I spotted something in the cooler. Little white insects, making their way along the edge of the ice cubes, slowly spinning counterclockwise in unison. ​ To this day, what strikes me the most is just how damn fast it all happened. Everyone had been drinking on and off for quite some time, at different paces and speeds, but it all hit them at the same time anyway; like a resonance. I thought that maybe someone had spiked it. Some kind of drug. I’d seen people tweak out before, but this was just… off the scale. I backed away, reaching for my phone. They were all too deep into their own worlds to notice me – even Stephen and his impromptu eagle claws. I took a few steps down the path towards the parked cars, only to realize that they were all lowering their voices. ​ Turning around, I recoiled from Rick; standing just a few feet ahead. He pointed at me with an arm he could barely keep up. His mouth agape, like a fish out of water. His eyes blinking at different speeds, looking in different directions. Even from there, I could see his tongue was dry. A redness around his eyes, telling me he wasn’t blinking. He just made this noise, like a human siren. A long, monotone scream, like one long ‘E’. Then – nothing. I just stood there, looking at him. ​ I could feel their reaction before I heard it. How every pair of eyes turned to me, and how they joined Rick in his outcry. This long reverberating note, digging into my skull. It made my stomach churn, like something was bubbling inside me. I tried to keep walking, but my balance was so offbeat that I kept tripping on my own feet. It felt like my head was on a swivel. By some miracle, I made it back to my car. I fumbled the keys, scratching a deep cut into the paint, but I got the door open. The moment it clicked open, I saw movement – they were coming. ​ I slammed the door shut, feeling my insides relax as the sound was blocked out. I could see the windshield vibrate. I pulled out my phone just as two pledges flung themselves onto my car. One of them completely smashed the windshield, while the other just flopped to the side, pulling down a side-mirror. I felt my heart jump out of my chest as my fingers went cold. I put the car in reverse and prayed. It went faster than I expected. I could barely control my feet, so I just floored the gas, sending me practically flying down the dirt road. Just seconds later, I was flung forward, smacking my head into an airbag. I’d hit a tree. ​ It is all sort of a blur after that. I stumbled out just as I saw these vague shapes coming down the road. I rolled onto the ground, landing flat on my back – knocking the air out of me. Looking up at the sky, I could hear them coming. Uneven steps and mishaps all along the way. They didn’t care. It was complete, reckless abandon. At a glance, it might’ve been funny. Stumbling over one another. Over their own legs. Bumping into each other. All making that awful noise, their faces slack, stupid, and ugly. Eyes reverberating with the pulse of that awful tone. With the car still running, I crawled underneath it. ​ I saw their legs come into vision as they gathered in a circle. Their screams slowly lowering back into their conversational madness. No one bent down to check under the car. I just saw dozens of legs anxiously stomping back and forth. Then, one of them smacked his fist against the hood. That set the others off. “A spike!” one cried as he smacked his head into the driver side window. “A spike in my fucking head!” “E-ever. Forever. Ever dark,” bawled another as he started to tear out the passenger side seat. As a pack, they took out their inane frustrations on the car. Tearing out electronics, breaking plastic panels, ripping into every soft surface with their bare hands and teeth. I saw one of them come away with the steering wheel, then he bit down so hard that three teeth dropped out of his head. They completely smashed it. They tore into the motor while it was still running, making the machine cry out in a metallic pain before it died. ​ I reached into my pocket to send a text for help – only to realize I’d lost my phone when I’d dropped to the ground. It was a few feet to my right; among the sea of legs. There was nothing I could do but to hold my ears shut, close my eyes, and stay as still as possible. Breathing in the dirt - still smelling that strange drink on their collective breaths. Growing stronger. I don’t know how long I stayed there. At some point I saw one of them stumble backwards, clawing at his own open eyes, crying like a child. Had it not been for his swollen, bleeding eyelids, he’d have looked right at me. The sky darkened, as their voices grew hoarse and weak. Hours later, they were still tearing into the car, littering the ground with everything from electronics and debris to their own blood, sweat, and hair. And still, they mumbled. They wheezed. They cried. Then at some point, it just sort of… stopped. ​ It was like they’d fallen asleep – right then and there, standing in this mob circle around the car. The sun had sunk well below the horizon, casting long shadows. I waited a couple of minutes, held my breath, and went for it. My arm was stiff, and my fingers weak. I’d felt an oncoming cramp on and off four hours, and suddenly moving didn’t help. My pulse spiked as I reached for the phone, feeling the cool evening breeze on my naked hand. I grabbed the phone, retracted my hand, and almost gave myself away. They’d been stepping on my phone over and over all day long – the touchscreen was dead. My instinct was to scream, but instead I bit down on my lip hard enough to break the skin. Every nerve in my body tightened. ​ What else could I do? Could I just… walk off? Were they really sleeping? I couldn’t risk it. I’d be in the middle of them, waiting to be torn apart. If they could do this kind of damage to a damn car, a person would be short work. ​ I just lay there, counting seconds. Making impossible plans in my head, feeling the car growing smaller. Every tiny movement I made felt like a surrender. I pondered just poking one of them; to get it over with. These intrusive thoughts taking over my rational ones. And yet – I did nothing. I remember blinking in and out of a painful half-sleep. I remember how they just stood there, legs like a forest of jeans, shorts, and tracksuit pants. With every breath they took, I could imagine hearing a voice, speaking through them. E – an inhale. O – an exhale. E-O. E-O. E-O. Like a fucking lullaby from hell. ​ As the temperatures dropped, I felt the shivers coming on. But, as it seemed, so did my assailants. They were shivering something fierce. So bad, in fact, that some had to lean against the car, or sit down. One by one they dropped – bloody, battered, and raw. Some just sat down, others collapsed. Another intrusive thought wormed into my head. This one stronger than the others. Potent. Desperate. *RUN*. ​ So I did. ​ I crawled out, my nerves aching from the sudden movement. I felt stray hands reaching for me. Grasping at my pants, my jacket. Something grabbed a handful of hairs from my neck. But somehow, amongst this emerging sea of hands, I got through. Like passing your hand through a flame – it only hurts when you stop. I got out. Somehow, I got out. I saw them all turn towards me, one by one, their eyes unfocused and worn. Some had passed out, others were about to. I realized, maybe too late, that these people were already defeated. They were sick. I reached for the closest one, an unconscious Rick, and dug out the phone from his pocket. As expected, he didn’t have a screen lock. I kept looking back down at him as I dialed for help. The moment the call went through, his eyes rolled back in his skull. But I swear, his mouth moved. A silent ‘thank you’. ​ That whole night turned into a scary story around campus. Some don’t even think it happened, but the ‘Redshine’ night was definitely a thing. There are many reasons for people not to believe us though. For example, toxicology came back negative. Just alcohol, and not even that much of it. Ramses was quick to leave town as he realized his fuckup, leaving behind most of his distillery and empty boxes. Still, there was little to explain our physical reaction. It was just blueberries, maple, and the blue seeds of sunflower. I think, somehow, it was a mistake. He rushed the batch, and something went wrong. That drink mix he poured with the first drink he shared with Rick? I think it was a neutralizing agent – just in case it wasn’t ready. Four of the guys went blind. One of them got permanent nerve damage in his neck. One of them broke his fingers so bad they had to amputate. And that’s just the physical pain. I can’t even begin to imagine how many hours of therapy this caused. People were scarred and ruined for the rest of their lives, beating themselves into bloody submission. It got too painful being reminded of that night, so most of us have lost contact. ​ Sometimes, I read these articles, you know? Party gone wrong. Young adults making idiots of themselves. Partygoers erupt into violence. And yeah, most of the time it’s just a bad time. But I wonder – is it always like that? Or did someone just drink something they shouldn’t? Hell if I know.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17cpwg2/dont_drink_ramses_redshine/

nosleep

Saturdead

I don't know how much longer I have left to live.

SANGUIS TUUS LUMEN MEUM EXSTINGUET. Books are meant to bring happiness to those who read them. They instil positive emotions within us- it’s a way for us to escape reality and bring us into an everlasting dreamland of our choice. But I never thought it was possible for a book to destroy my reality. It was like the store was inviting me in. The weathered façade of the building bore the scars of countless seasons, its bricks, once vibrant red, had faded to a somber, weather-beaten hue. Its large display windows, their glass somewhat clouded with age, held a mesmerizing collage of dusty leather-bound books, their titles obscured by years of neglect. Immediately, I twisted the brass knob of the heavy wooden door as I stepped inside. I was met with the sounds of the creaky tiled floor and the faint scent of aging paper with weathered wood that seemed to linger like a ghostly embrace. There were many distinct types of books inside the shop. But there seemed to be one that was calling my name. It sat alone on a dusty, forgotten shelf in the dimly lit corner of the bookstore. Its leather-bound cover, once opulent and embossed with intricate patterns, had lost its luster over the centuries, leaving it faded and worn. As I approached the book, I noticed that it was slightly larger and thicker than the others on the shelf, as if it contained knowledge and secrets beyond the imagination. The pages, yellowed and brittle, seemed to beckon with an eerie, almost sinister charm. In the dim light, the cover of the book stood out to me. There was no name, only the faded colours of the book and a picture that seemed to represent a goat. The sensation of an unseen presence emanated from the book, as if it were a sentient being, yearning for its secrets to be unraveled. The air around it seemed charged with an ominous energy, making the hairs on my neck stand on end. The book's pages, when I dared to thumb through them, rustled with a foreboding whisper, as if the words held within were pleading to be released. As I carefully opened the book, I was met with the phrase “SANGUIS TUUS LUMEN MEUM EXSTINGUET.” on the very first page. I mumbled it out loud to myself, pursing my lips. Out of curiosity, I flipped through the other pages only to be met with nothing. It was all empty except for the very first page. I did not think anything of this. It was strange but I decided to carry on and look at the other books that the store had to offer. It had been a few days since that incident had happened. I found myself getting lesser sleep than usual- causing me to skip school for a couple of days. Everything was so draining. My hair started to fall out in clumps and my skin had gotten unusually paler; it seemed to have lost its vitality. My eyes took on a haunted, sunken appearance. Everything about me was so different- it was as if I wasn’t me anymore. Even speaking had become harder for me, it was difficult for me to express myself. It became tougher for me to carry on, fatigue would always be present and simple tasks felt like monumental efforts. I decided that all of this was abnormal, and I googled my symptoms. To my surprise, I came across a girl’s blog where she had experienced the exact same things as me. I immediately contacted her to get more information. She told me that she had been cursed and asked me if I stumbled upon anything unusual within these past few days. The thought of that strange book had crossed my mind and I told her about it. She explained to me that the only way to stop this was to pass the curse on. However, I couldn’t seem to remember the phrase that I had read. I knew that I had to visit the bookstore again and I went there as fast as I could. Out of breath, I looked at the employee with desperateness plastered all over my face. “Excuse me, is there a book that seems to be abnormally large and has a goat on the cover? The pages are all empty except for the first.” I rambled. “No, I’m sorry.” She replied in confusion. It couldn’t be. “You have to check the CCTV; I was here a week ago.” I swallowed, looking at her. She checked the cameras and I saw myself in front of the shelf. But I had nothing in my hand. My gestures made it seem like I was flipping through book pages- like I was supposed to be. I remember holding that book, but the cameras showed otherwise. I don’t know where that book is, and I don’t know how much longer I have left to live. My body has become weaker and I’m struggling to even write this. It’s too late for me. SANGUIS TUUS LUMEN MEUM EXSTINGUET.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17d6vge/i_dont_know_how_much_longer_i_have_left_to_live/

nosleep

cupidzone

The Whispering Woods

Growing up in a small town, I was always drawn to the woods that surrounded our community. The dense trees, intertwined with vines, concealed secrets and adventures waiting to be discovered. There was one part of the forest, though, that both fascinated and terrified me—the Whispering Woods. The legend said that the Whispering Woods were cursed, a place where the spirits of those who'd gone missing in the forest now resided, their voices forever carried on the wind. The chilling stories told around campfires and at sleepovers had always captivated my young, curious mind. One sunny morning, with my heart racing in anticipation, I decided to venture into the Whispering Woods. I was 12 years old, fearless, or so I thought. As I ventured deeper, I began to hear it—the faintest, eerie whispering, like leaves rustling in the breeze but forming strange, ghostly words. "Come... closer..." the whispers beckoned, sending a shiver down my spine. I had been told that if you ever heard the whispers, you should run away as fast as you could. But I couldn't resist. My curiosity got the better of me, and I followed the sounds deeper into the forest. The whispers became more distinct, forming words. They seemed to know my name, repeating it in a haunting chorus. The woods themselves seemed to come alive, the trees bending and swaying as if dancing to an otherworldly rhythm. I finally reached a clearing, and there, bathed in an eerie, otherworldly light, stood a gnarled, ancient tree. Its twisted branches seemed to reach out to me, and I could see the faces of those who had gone missing etched into its bark. They were trapped, their souls held captive by the Whispering Woods. A voice from the tree spoke, soft and melancholy. "We've been waiting for you, young one. We need your help to break the curse that binds us." Fear surged through me, but compassion overcame it. I couldn't leave these souls in torment. "What can I do to help?" I asked, my voice trembling. The tree revealed a hidden compartment within its trunk, and inside, I found an old, weathered journal. It was written by a wanderer who had found himself lost in the woods many years ago. The journal contained instructions on how to perform a ritual to free the trapped souls. For days, I worked tirelessly, collecting the required ingredients and preparing the ritual. When the time came, I stood before the ancient tree, reciting the incantations and performing the ritual as instructed. The air grew still, and the whispers ceased. A blinding light enveloped the tree, and the faces etched into its bark slowly faded away. The spirits were finally at peace, and the curse that had bound them for so long was broken. From that day on, the Whispering Woods were no longer a place of fear but a sanctuary for the souls that had once been lost. I learned that sometimes, courage and compassion can overcome even the most haunting of legends, turning a place of dread into one of hope and healing.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17d43gj/the_whispering_woods/

nosleep

Beautiful-Pizza-3549

I Signed Up for a Mail Order Bride. Things Have Taken a Turn for the Worst.

Hey everyone. I've got an update for you... and it's not good. [Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17bupyr/i_signed_up_for_a_mailorder_bride_shes_been/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) “H-hey, Amelia?” She slowly turned to face me. She didn’t look evil. In fact, she looked… comforting? The warm smile stuck to her lips sent a pang of guilt jolting through me. What if Amelia had done nothing wrong? What if I was having some sort of mental break due to finally spending time with a woman after such a long time? I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. I didn’t want to throw away something good if I was actually the one to blame. “What’s up, babe?” My cheeks blossomed with color. That was the first time either of us had used pet names. “Nevermind. Don’t worry about it… babe,” I said, shooting her a wink. We didn’t have much planned for that day. Though I was enjoying my time with Amelia, I just couldn’t rid my mind of the previous night. What started out like a dream was devolving into a nightmare. I didn’t know what to do. Eventually, I figured it out. I needed to stay awake. I had to know if Amelia was truly the sweet, loving girl I thought she was, or if she was someone else entirely. Amelia continued showing me around, until eventually, I asked to stop in a store to relieve myself. She agreed, and I watched as she made her way to the women’s restroom. Ha! My plan was going off without a hitch. The moment the door clicked shut, I scooped up a handful of 5-hour Energy drinks and bolted to the counter. I was sweating bullets as I handed the shop owner my cash. If I wasn’t quick, the jig would be up. The old woman smiled at me as she handed me my change. I hurriedly stuffed the little bottles into my pockets - and not a moment too soon. Amelia emerged from the restroom looking refreshed. I beamed at her. “Ready to go?” She nodded, and we were on our way. Amelia was the one who proposed it. She casually tossed the suggestion out between forkfuls of fettuccine alfredo. “So, I was thinking, do you want to come back to my apartment tonight? The hotel is comfy and all, but I thought you might want to see my place.” A sinking feeling of dread gnawed at my intestines like a wolverine. I liked this girl, I really did. So why was my gut telling me that I should say no? I couldn’t formulate a plan in time. “Yeah, sure thing,” I blurted out. Amelia grinned as she took another bite of her pasta. Great. Now I was *definitely* going to end up on Dateline. Blood pounded in my ears for the entire remainder of the meal. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t slightly petrified. I’d been popping 5-hour Energy drinks every chance I got, so that probably wasn’t helping my anxiety, but just the thought of waking up paralyzed again - or not waking up at all - was shredding my mental health to pieces. I had a slight tremor in my hands on the ride back to Amelia’s apartment… and she noticed. “Eli, is everything okay? You seem jittery.” Shit. I needed to put on a straight face. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just nerves, ya know? This is the first time I’m getting to see your apartment. Who wouldn’t be excited?” She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. “You’re a goober. I like that about you,” she said, gently interlacing my quivering fingers with hers. I could feel my face turning red. She was making it really difficult to be suspicious of her. When we finally arrived, I opened the cab door for Amelia and helped her out. She was slowly beginning to melt my apprehension. I hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary for the whole day, after all. Her apartment was nice. Like, *really* nice. The place was furnished with expensive couches and armchairs, it was surprisingly spacious, and to top it all off, she had a balcony that provided an incredible view of the city. Honestly, I was a tad bit envious. “Really nice place you got here,” I said, once she was done giving me a thorough walkthrough. “Thank you. I take pride in my home. There’s one room I haven’t shown you yet, though,” she yawned, drowsiness sweeping over her countenance. My heart plummeted into my gut. Crap. Was it bedtime already? I glanced down at my watch. Eleven P.M. I knew what I needed to do. “Mind if I use the restroom first? Been holding it for a little bit.” “Sure. Right down the hall.” I nonchalantly sauntered to the bathroom. The second the door clicked shut, I emptied the rest of the 5-hour Energy drinks from my pockets. Two left. That would have to do. I downed them and placed the empty bottles in the trash can as quietly as possible. I covered them with toilet paper to hide my tracks. Genius, right? I popped back out of the bathroom donning my best sexy face. Best to play it off so she wouldn’t think I was up to anything. “Alright, sweetheart. What is it that you wanted to show me?” Amelia burst into laughter. “What- What is that face?” She wheezed, hands over her stomach. I blushed, my cheeks burning red. “I dunno. I thought it’d be hot or something.” She glanced up at me, tears in her eyes from her laughing fit. “You looked constipated. You really are something else. Come on, hot stuff,” she said, finally regaining her composure. Amelia took my hand and led me to a room at the end of the hall. She pushed open the door, revealing her bedroom. It was even nicer than the rest of the apartment. The room was spotless. A desk lay in the corner with a computer perching atop it. A fish tank sat on her dresser, foreign specimens of fish swimming lazily among the steady hum of the filter. And her bed. Amelia had a queen sized bed with pristine white linens that took up a good portion of the room. It looked as if it was made of clouds. Crap. Anyone would have a tough time staying awake in a bed that comfortable. Amelia stretched her arms high above her head. When she lowered them back down, her exhaustion became evident. Her eyelids were drooping and she had a vacant stare. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for bed. I’m worn out,” Amelia said, shooting me a weak smile. I returned one back. Had Amelia been falling asleep before me every night? Maybe she really wasn’t up to anything. “Same. Ladies first.” I soon found myself snuggled up under the blankets with Amelia in my arms. The bed was as comfortable as it looked. Fortunately for me, the energy drinks had my heart pounding harder than an MMA fighter. I wasn’t going to dreamland *any* time soon. I don’t even know how long I laid there, fighting off sleep. It felt like an eternity, but if I had to guess, I’d say it was an hour, tops. That was when it happened. Amelia shifted, lightly rolling out of my grasp. I squeezed my eyes shut and steadied my breathing. I couldn’t afford to let her find out that I was faking it. I heard rustling noises from the edge of the bed. It sounded like someone was rummaging through a desk drawer. But what chilled me to my core was the whispering. Amelia had started mumbling to herself, just loud enough for me to discern what she was saying. “This is it. Tonight’s the night.” “I’m going to pluck out your eyes and chew them like gumballs.” “I can’t wait to strip the flesh from your bones and feel it slither down my throat.” “I’m just *itching* to carve out your heart and cook it over an open flame.” Fear crashed over me like a tidal wave. I’d been right all along. I had to know. I opened my eyes just enough to see what was going on. Amelia was rifling through her purse. I watched curiously as she found what she was looking for. She held up a little plastic box. I could feel the color drain from my face as she opened it. Inside was a syringe and a tiny bottle of clear liquid. No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening. Had all that - the outings, the intimacy, the invitation to her apartment… had it all been a part of some elaborate plan to murder me? I had to get out of there. I rolled onto my stomach and let out a light groan. Out of my periphery, I saw Amelia hurriedly close the plastic box and hide it behind her back. It was now or never. I yawned loudly, rubbing my eyes and slowly opening them as if I’d been woken naturally. It was slight, but for a second, I could see disappointment wash over her visage before she returned to her normal, jovial self. “Oh sorry babe, did I wake you? I was looking for my sleeping pills. Body’s tired, but my mind’s wide awake, ya know?” She giggled anxiously. The laugh that I found adorable just hours prior now disgusted me. This woman was an absolute monster. “No, no. I think I just have to pee. I’ll be right back,” I said, sliding out of bed. I discreetly grabbed my phone on the way. “Sure thing. Hurry back, now. I’ll get cold without your cuddles.” I locked eyes with her, nodded warmly, and slipped out the door. I bolted straight out of there. I didn’t care if I was in nothing but my boxers. I had to put as much distance between myself and Amelia as humanly possible. I ran and ran, until I thought I was a safe enough distance away. I doubled over, struggling to catch my breath, before calling the police. They didn’t believe me. Of course. Because pretty blonde women can’t be serial killers, right? They did at least bring me back to the hotel. I’ll give them that. That’s where I am now. I’ve called Jared, but whenever I do, I get an automated message telling me that his phone number has been disconnected. I’ve tried contacting the company that he works for, but I can’t find anything about it online. It’s as if it never existed. I don’t know what to do. I left my wallet at Amelia’s apartment and without that, I can’t pay for an early flight home. But that’s not what truly terrifies me. Amelia is still out there, searching. And she knows *exactly* where to [find me.](https://www.reddit.com/r/HorrorJunkie123/) ​

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17cnev5/i_signed_up_for_a_mail_order_bride_things_have/

nosleep

HorrorJunkie123

Something in the Hay-Maze

Every October, the local farm outside of town was a main event for our family. The farmer riding a giant, rusted old tractor (with a tow hitch that looked like it could snap at any moment), loaded us up in a trailer for a hayride out to the pumpkin patch. As kids, we would spend way too much time looking for the perfect pumpkin. ​ Next, my siblings, my younger cousins, and I would visit a small petting zoo; You know, the kind with small pigs, baby cows, the like. We’d pet the goats and chase the chickens around until we tired ourselves out, while our parents waited to pay for our carefully chosen, “best ever” pumpkins. Without fail, every year the owners of the farm built a cute, simple hay-maze for the kids to play around in and give the parents some time to breathe. ​ If you have no clue what a hay-maze is, let me explain: From the outside, it almost looked like some kind of flat-topped pyramid– but blocks of limestone were replaced by giant, rectangular, somehow always damp and musty bales of hay. The top of the maze was usually covered by a giant blue tarp. Inside there would still be little rays of light, but it was dark compared to outside. When I was 14, I was tasked with looking over my younger brothers and our cousin, Julia, since I was the oldest. She was only 6 years old at the time. I remember as if she was standing right in front of me… She was dressed in a bright red set of overalls, which she had demanded she wear that day. 6 year-olds are… indomitable, as I’m sure you know. After picking out our trophy pumpkins and petting the baby cows, we joined the queue of people waiting to pay for their haul of gourds, pumpkins, and plastic halloween decorations. Julia was getting tired and fussy. She asked me to hold her pumpkin, understandably, since it was quite heavy and probably weighed more than her. “Auntie Kate!” Julia liked to call me that. We had a pretty large age gap, and I think I’ll always be more of an aunt than a cousin in her mind. “Auntie Kate? Auntie Kate!! I want…!” her shrill outbursts began to blend together after a few minutes, as they usually did. I could do this all day. As the oldest, I was a seasoned babysitter at this point. So I took her pumpkin off her tiny hands, hoping she’d calm down a little. Aside from her brief detour to tantrum world, everything was just delightful. The promise of jack o’ lanterns and pumpkin pie later in the evening was palpable, and I could tell my mother and uncle were more than ready to get back and shuffle the children into the backyard so they could have mulled wine and talk about politics. The setting sun was peeking out from the gray October skies, and my mom was laughing at some probably dirty joke my dad whispered to her. My brothers were using old dried out corn stalks as swords, and jousting for the right to rescue the princess (which I’m pretty sure at that point was a chicken, but who knows). It was a beautiful fall day, one that you imagine when you think about the sunny days and chilly evenings of late October in the northeast. That all screeched to a halt when I saw my mom’s face. She turned to say something to me, but when she saw the empty spot next to me, her smile turned to a look of panic. “Kate? Where’s Julia?” The alarm in her voice was distinct, the way only an adult who is missing a child can sound. “She was right here a minute ago...” I spun on my heels and shouted at the boys, “Hey, where did Julia go?” Stevie, my youngest brother, said he saw her walking toward the petting zoo… I could have strangled him there and then, knowing he saw and didn’t say anything. My mom shot a glance my way, before waving at my aunt and uncle who were walking back from getting us all hot apple cider. “Don’t worry, I’ll go get her. Be right back.” I immediately did a 180 and jogged back across the clay and gravel parking lot to the petting zoo. As I got there, I realized how few people were actually working on such a big farm. About ten people were in line to pay for their pumpkins across the lot, where I’d just been. A handful of parents with toddlers were milling around the gift shop and in front of the petting zoo. That was really it. In the distance, I saw the old tractor pulling another heard of people out to the pumpkin patch. I don’t know if it was the cold autumn wind or the overwhelming feeling of being responsible for finding a lost child, but something sent a chill up my spine. I glance to my right, and I see it, seemingly for the first time. Set back from the lot, away from the petting zoo, the gift shop, and everything else – was the hay maze. Even with the sunny weather, gray clouds seemed to roll in as I stared at the empty stacks of dead foliage. The hay maze always creeped me out as a kid, but even as a teenager, I was really hoping to avoid it this year. I scanned wildly looking for the red overalls and listening for her high-pitched giggle. Nothing. My mom yelled after me, “Check the hay maze! We’ll look by the checkout!” Unfortunately, my sense of self preservation was not a factor at that moment. I needed to find Julia, so I mustered up any courage I could gather and ran into the maze, avoiding a chance to let myself get any more nervous. I ducked under the tarp into the opening of the maze. It was different from the years before… Sure, there was a tarp on the door, but the roof of the maze was covered in hay this time. With the extra material laying over the tarp, I no longer saw a dirt floor with hay walls bathed in a deep, otherworldly blue glow– instead, I stared at a tunnel of hay stacks leading into pitch blackness. “No way.” Suddenly I realized how silent it was inside the maze. It was eerily, unnaturally quiet, probably from the hay dampening any sound that dared to brave its passages. It was also sickly warm inside, and smelled like old books mixed with a touch of mold. I just wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible. “Julia?” No response. “Hey Juliaaa” . I called out in a sing-songy tone she usually responded quite affectionately to. “It’s time to go! Come out, come out wherever you areee!” A brief, ominous silence fell over the maze. I couldn’t hear anything, not even my own breath. Suddenly the wall of moldy hay bales next to me shook, and I heard Julia’s laugh. I’d know that laugh anywhere. Knowing she hadn’t been kidnapped by some hills-have-eyes hillbillies, I relaxed a bit and finally exhaled. “Come on Julia, this isn’t funny. We have to go. Can you come out please? We’re going to carve jack-o-lanterns soon and you won’t want to miss it!” Another muffled giggle bubbles up through the hay-maze. I couldn’t discern where it was coming from, but it definitely sounded farther than the last one. Like I said, the center of the “hay hallway” was pitch black. While I was straining my eyes, trying to see anything at all in the inky black void, I heard a quick pitter-patter of tiny feet across the dirt floor. I thought I could make out a tiny shadow skittering across the hall leading to the rear of the musky labyrinth. “Fine! You win. Stay there, I guess you’re going to miss all the fun!” I called into the darkness, using the old tried-and-true method of playing into a child’s FOMO. Child psychiatrists could learn from me. I wasn’t carrying a flashlight, and of course, this was the time of the giant Nokia brick cell-phones, so I was without any way to see in the dark. But hay-mazes were for little kids right? How scary could it be? I enter the maze, turn once, turn again, and the little patch of light behind me disappears faster than I had anticipated. Maybe the clouds were blocking the sun again? Lucky me. I felt my way around the sharp, straw-covered walls in the pitch dark. I came to a corner, and found what seemed to be a long, T-shaped hallway leading deeper into the maze. There was a strong, fleeting breeze, followed by the patter of tiny footsteps and giggling, somewhere in the dark. “Julia! Don’t run! You’ll get hurt!” I yelled sternly. I was normally her favorite because I let her get away with pretty much anything– you know, youngest child syndrome and all that– but God knows she’d run straight into the wall in this darkness, and I didn’t want to deal with the fallout. But damn, she was brave for running so fast. Did that little fucker have night vision? Feeling my way along the walls deeper into the maze, I hear a tiny voice in my ear. “Auntie Kate, I found you!” My heart lurched into my throat and my stomach turned itself inside out before I could take a breath. “Jesus!” I screamed. More giggling, a smattering of footsteps. Another cold breeze shot past me, and now I was losing patience. My fear of the maze disappeared. I was primarily annoyed we hadn’t eaten yet, and I was dreading the half-hour drive home before I could fix that issue. “Julia, that was not nice! Where are you? Come grab my hand, I can’t see you.” I extended my arm out into the void. “We have to go. NOW.” Her tender little fingers of a small child wrapped around mine, and I let out a sigh of both relief and exasperation. Another little giggle. “That was fun, Auntie Kate. Thanks for playing hide and seek with me, I wanted to do this all day!” Julia says. “Don’t do that again, okay?” I said, clumsily making our way back out the way I came in. After a couple of minutes that felt like hours, I finally saw a dim, orange light filtering in from the entrance of the maze. My mom was holding the tarp door open a few yards away. I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved to see her. Trekking towards the doorway I called to her, “Don’t worry, I got Ju–” But before I could finish what I was saying, mom yells, “KATE! WE FOUND HER! LET’S GO!” As I passed the barrier from the darkness to the well-lit parking lot entrance, my mind began to do backflips to explain what had just transpired. My hands were shaking the tiniest bit, but the tiny hand attached to it was gone. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help myself... I looked back to the dark entrance of the maze, and I swear I saw something recede into the darkness. ​ As I turned back around to get the hell out of there, I saw Julia standing with my mom, holding her hand. Once again, a tiny giggle echoed from deep within the seemingly sound-proof maze. ​ Has anyone ever experienced anything like this, or know what it could be? I'm still losing sleep over it all these years later.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17cv0bu/something_in_the_haymaze/

nosleep

Sisyphuzz

THE MAESTRO OF CHARMOUTH WOOD

This is a story about Halloween. It’s a story about the dark realities that often lurk beyond our innocent traditions. It’s a story about legends, and myths, and the consequences that come from tempting these things. Most of all though, it’s the story of the worst night of my life– October 31st, 2022. It goes like this. __________________________________________ The trees swayed, creaking in the cold breath of autumn. The three of us marched through scattered leaves, hiking deeper into the inky darkness of Charmouth Wood. “Hard to believe it’s Halloween,” Eli muttered, pulling his jacket tighter about him. “It’s freezing out.” Jacob laughed, his voice low and booming. “This? This is nothing. Come visit me in Alaska sometime and I’ll take you ice fishing. Now that’s real cold.” Years had passed, but Eli and Jacob were the same as ever– always bickering, always arguing. I walked ahead of them, leading them into the heart of the forest. A small cooler swung in my grip. It felt heavy. Far heavier than it should have. “Takes you back, doesn’t it?” Eli said, gesturing to the crowds of children. They were dressed up for Halloween as skeletons, ghosts, and everything in between. They were ferried by their smiling parents, who held jack o'lanterns stuffed with flickering candles. A Charmouth tradition. “Careful!” a young boy called to us. “The Maestro's out tonight!” “Thanks, buddy,” Jacob replied with a thumbs up. Then he lowered his voice so only Eli and I could hear, “We’re counting on it.” A short time later we crested a hill, coming upon a creek. Water trickled lazily over scattershot stones. A makeshift log bridge led across, and children passed the bridge single file. As they did, they paid us more warnings. New words of caution. They claimed that they'd heard the Maestro's song out there in the woods, and if we weren't careful, we'd wander far enough to hear it too. “Nice to see Charmouth’s local boogeyman is still alive and well,” Eli said. “Charmouth’s a small town,” I told him. “Tradition means a lot in a place like this. It’s not too surprising.” Past the bridge, the forest became quieter. Lonelier. The sound of chatting families, of laughter faded and was replaced by the slow crunch of leaves underfoot. It was nearly midnight. It’d become too late, too cold for hiking. The three of us continued our journey in silence, a consequence of so many years apart. We hadn’t spoken since high-school. These days, we had little and less in common, with our only shared interest being what we’d come here for tonight, and that was a subject none of us wanted to bring up. “Hear that?” Jacob said, pausing. I stopped after him, listening. It was music. Harsh and grating, and it was coming from up ahead. I spotted a flicker of light, and noticed a speaker sitting atop a distant hillside. Shadows danced around it. They stuttered, vanishing and reappearing like ghosts in front of a flashing strobe. The smell of liquor hung heavy in the air. “Christ, you think they’re old enough to be drinking?” Eli muttered as we passed. “Oh, lighten up, man,” Jacob said with a smile. “It’s called being a teeanger. Having fun. You know, that thing we used to do when we were young.” He offered me a wink. Eli frowned. “Sure, how could I forget? Chasing the three of you around, breaking into houses, robbing antiques– it’s a wonder we never got caught and thrown into juvie.” I forced a smile, momentarily forgetting the weight of the cooler. “To be fair, those houses were abandoned. It’s not like we were doing home invasions.” “They were also haunted,” Jacob said brightly. “Allegedly, I guess. You know, according to Ryan.” Silence smothered us. Ryan’s name was like a spell, strangling our conversation before it ever had a chance to breathe. I grimaced. Why bring him up? We were just starting to reconnect. We walked the next mile without speaking a word. My arm felt numb. My fingers were cold and brittle, wrapped around the handle of the cooler in a vice grip. I tried not to think about the contents. It was filled with so much, so much more than the tiny container would ever lead you to believe. It held memories. Regrets. It held should-haves-but-did-nots and other things much darker still. “How much further?” Eli asked. I glanced down at my phone, happy for the distraction. This deep in Charmouth Wood, there wasn’t any hope for a signal, but I’d downloaded some maps beforehand. Nothing fancy. Topography, mostly. “Not much further,” I said, clearing my throat. “Culton Vale’s about twenty minutes if we keep this pace. Maybe sooner.” “Culton Vale,” Eli said, tasting the words. “Been awhile since I’ve heard the name of that place. We must have been kids the last time we were out this far.” “Fifteen,” Jacob muttered. “That was the last time we tried the ritual. I only remember because Ryan was chuffed when it didn’t work out.” Ryan. There it was, that name again. My fist tightened around the handle of the cooler. “Yeah, well last time we didn’t do it properly,” I said, forcing down memories. “We were missing ingredients. Who knows? Might be that things will turn out different tonight.” A cold breeze swept by, whistling as it passed through creeping branches above. “God,” Eli said with a shiver. “I really hope they don’t.” More silence. More pockets of dead air, of endless quiet interrupted only by the occasional sigh and snap of a twig. As kids, Ryan had been the one to bring us together. We four had become fast friends after joining his after-school ‘Paranormal’ club where we investigated all things spooky. We’d interview people who claimed to be vampires. We’d take anecdotes from alleged Bigfoot victims. We’d do our best to summon Blood Mary, and the Candy Man, and everything else that wanted us dead. It was fun, I thought. Eli, Jacob and myself thought the whole thing was a laugh, but Ryan? Well, he believed it. The whole shebang. Every last word, every last myth. That’s why he stayed in Charmouth while the three of us left. He maintained that there were secrets in that town, that there was some buried darkness that he couldn’t leave without unearthing. He asked if I’d come back if he ever found a solid lead on it. If I’d help him study it. Defeat it. I told him yes. I told him a lie. “Alright,” Jacob said, pulling me out of my reverie. He took a deep, haggard breath and clapped his hands. “I can’t keep quiet about this anymore– none of it. Am I insane for thinking this is… well... Insane? Help me out, guys.” Eli heaved a sigh. “Nope. It’s every bit as insane as you think it is.” “Oh good,” Jacob said, sounding not at all relieved. “It’s not up to us,” I told them flatly. Something was bubbling inside of me– Ryan’s memory maybe, or perhaps my guilt over my unkept promise. “We’ve already come this far, we might as well see it through. It’s what Ryan wanted. As his friends, it’s the least we can do.” Jacob and Eli fell silent. I knew they weren’t comfortable with this, and truth be told neither was I, but it wouldn’t take long. We’d be home soon enough. “Did either of you go over the legend before flying out?” I asked, hoping to change the subject. “Of the Maestro?” Eli said. “No, sorry, Tommy. I was drowning in client paperwork the last few weeks.” “Same here,” Jacob added, kicking a rock into the brush. “Not paperwork but, you know, real work.” Eli made to punch him, and Jacob burst out laughing. I laughed too, in spite of myself. It was a nice icebreaker after a moment so rife with tension. “Don’t sweat it,” I said breezily. “Want me to refresh you guys? I went over Ryan’s notes before I left.” “Sound great,” Eli said through gritted teeth, still paying Jacob a death-stare. “Mind starting from the top?” Jacob said, still chuckling. “I’ve got the memory of a fucking goldfish, man.” “For sure.” I let out a breath– it felt good to be doing something that wasn’t discussing Ryan, felt to be doing something to distract from that awful thing rolling back and forth in my cooler. “Alright,” I said. “Story goes like this. The Maestro lived in Charmouth over a century ago, sometime back in the late 1800s. He was a musician. A violinist. He couldn’t find a paying position in a symphony though, so he made his living busking on the town streets. Trouble was, everybody hated his music.” Jacob snickered. “One night,” I continued, “a gang of kids tried robbing him. The Maestro, I mean. They swarmed him while he was sleeping, and when he tried putting up a fight they beat him with his own violin. Shattered it across his fingers. Broke them real bad. Then, as he tried to crawl away, one of them used the violin’s bow to slit the Maestro’s throat.” “Jesus…” Eli shuddered. “Forgot how dark this story was.” “This is nothing,” I said. “Just wait. Anyway, the kid’s didn’t manage to kill him. Their cut was too shallow, and so the Maestro was able to drag himself to a nearby doctor, and once he’d been treated tried reporting their attempted-murder to the sheriff.” “But the sheriff didn’t give a rat’s ass, did he?” asked Jacob. “Bingo. The sheriff, the mayor– practically everybody in Charmouth cheered that the kids’ destroyed the Maestro’s violin and busted his hands. It meant peace and quiet. They wouldn’t have to put up with his awful music any more. But without his music, the Maestro had nothing. He began begging on the same street corner he used to play on, and as the months wore on he became hungrier and more desperate, until he resolved to take his own life. That’s when he met The Stranger.” “Ah, yes, I remember that creepy fuck,” Jacob said. “Wasn’t he supposed to be the devil?” I shrugged. “Some say so. Others say he was a djinn, or a traveling warlock. Whatever he was, he told the Maestro he could heal his hands, and give him a new violin– one that would play music more moving than even Mozart. All the Maestro needed to do was open his heart on All Hallows Eve, to indulge his emotions, act on his desires, and this gift would be his. “Desperate to play again, the Maestro accepted The Stranger’s offer. Days later, on All Hallows Eve, he did just as he was told and listened to the music of his soul. He fell into himself. His thoughts. His emotions. He lay on the street, writhing in a weeping cesspool of shame and regret and sorrow and anger and he shouted into the night the names of everybody who had mocked him. Hurt him. “Then, like a man reborn, his eyes snapped open. He rose, stumbling down the cobblestone streets until he found a darkened alley, one he knew was often used as a gathering place for the local kids. He found them there, the boys who had broken his violin. Cut his throat. He confronted them, demanded an apology, and they laughed in his face. They pushed him down. Held his arms. One of the boys sought to finish the job, and took a knife to the Maestro’s throat, but this time blood didn’t spill. Eli shook his head. “Little bastards. Honestly, ganging up on him like that…” “Well,” I replied, ducking a low-hanging branch, “you’ll be happy to know it didn’t end well for the kids. They didn’t realize it, but the Maestro had changed. He grabbed the knife from the boy, stuffed it into his gut, then tore it across his throat. The boy dropped. Then he scrambled to his feet, chasing down the others. One by one, the alley ran red with their blood. When it was over, the Maestro stood alone in the moonlight, and as The Stranger promised, he heard something thrumming inside of him. The music of his soul. His own dark symphony. He let it guide him, consume him, and that’s when–” “Pale,” Eli said, snapping his fingers. “That part I do remember! He used their bones to make a new violin, right?” I nodded, a shiver running through me. “That’s right. He marched through town that Halloween playing Pale for all to hear. It drove Charmouth to madness. Wives smothered their husbands. Dogs devoured their owners. The Maestro came all the way to this forest, and finally understood that the townsfolk didn’t deserve his talents– not one of them. Those who did would come looking for him, though, and they would pay a steep price for the privilege of hearing him play.” “Can’t imagine why anybody would do something as stupid as that,” Jacob yawned. “Well told, though, Tommy. You were always killer at telling those old legends.” “Agreed,” Eli said. I smiled meekly. “But there’s more, isn’t there?” Eli said. “Ryan mentioned it ages ago, the first time we came out to try the ritual. If you managed to find the Maestro, managed to listen to his music without losing your mind, then he’d grant you a wish or something.” “Yeah,” I replied. “That’s right.” “A wish?” Jacob said. “And all you’ve gotta do is listen to some shitty music? Oh man. You were made for this, Eli.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jacob shrugged innocently. “Look, all I’m saying is there’s no way the Maestro’s worse than Nickelback.” “Go to hell,” Eli laughed. And we all joined in. This was the dynamic I remembered, the one I loved so dearly. The goofy bickering, the corny jokes, the intimate understanding of how to get under one another’s skin without ever pressing too far. For the first time, it felt like old times. It felt like we were kids again, storming through the forest hunting for ghosts. “And the ritual?” Eli said, wiping a joyful tear from his eye. “We’ve gotta make sure we don’t fuck it up this time. What are the steps?” I cleared my throat in mock authority. “Well, step one is that it’s gotta be the anniversary of the Maestro’s debut performance. AKA Halloween.” “Success,” Jacob said, checking it off one of his fingers. “Next, we’ve gotta find him. There should be markings carved into trees, little sigils he uses to guide audiences toward his show. Trouble is, you need a very specific kind of lantern to find them. And that’s where we messed up as kids. It can’t just be a regular jack o'lantern, it’s gotta be a…” My words caught in my throat. Eli gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “No pumpkins. It’s gotta be made from a human head.” I nodded, the gravity of his words stealing my breath. “Doesn’t get any more depraved than that, does it?” Jacob said, kicking another rock down a shadowy hillside. “Fuckin’ Maestro.” “No,” I agreed. “It doesn’t.” It was almost total darkness, but I could still feel their eyes on me. Eli. Jacob. I knew they were staring, gazing at the cooler swinging in my grip, that plastic box of nightmares that brought us here. I felt like I should say something, like I should offer some words of reassurance or– “Ryan asked for this,” Eli reminded us. “It was written into his will. So we’re better off not dwelling on it and just getting it over with. Agreed?” Jacob huffed, folding his arms. “Still, it’s hard to believe he asked us to do something so… fucked, you know? I mean, Christ. Who does something like this?” “It doesn’t matter,” I said, looking down at my phone. “We’re here. Culton Vale’s just across that creek, so let’s push through this and then grab a beer. Now, who has the lighter?” “Me,” Jacob said, fishing into his jacket pocket. He produced a rusty steel square with letters scratched into the surface. They were initials. Our initials, from a long time ago. “And the candles?” I said, looking to Eli. He unslung his backpack from his shoulders, then pulled out a bag of tealights. “Will these work? Tough to find candles small enough to fit in… well… you know what I mean.” I swallowed. “They’ll do.” We each took turns with the lighter. We passed it around, touching the flame to our candle wicks until they snapped and popped with orange glow. Then, Eli and Jacob turned back to me. Those eyes, again. That stare. They gazed at the cooler like it was a bomb, liable to explode at any moment, and I wish it had been because that’d be easier to deal with than the truth. My heart hammered. I lowered the cooler, fingers trembling as I unfastened its plastic clasps. “You alright?” Eli asked softly. “I’m fine,” I said quickly. I took a deep breath, and then I lifted the lid. An awful reek spilled out from inside, like rot that had been disguised by a chemical cocktail. Jacob swept his flashlight toward me. Toward the cooler. Ryan stared up at us. His decapitated head sat on a bed of ice, his hollow eyes gazing lifelessly at the swaying branches above. His mouth hung open, lips pale blue. My stomach churned as nausea flooded me, and I turned and hurled onto the dirt. Jacob knelt beside me. His voice was quiet, solemn. “Well, that’s a relief. The coroner already removed his eyes and tongue, so that’ll save us the PTSD of having to cut them out ourselves.” I caught a glimpse of something in the candlelight, the glinting steel of his pocket-knife slipping back into his pocket. “I guess all that’s left to decide is who has to carry him?” “We’ll each take a turn,” Eli said. “It’s only fair.” I shook my head, forcing words from my throat. “No,” I croaked. “I’ll do it.” I’d promised Ryan to return and help him investigate the lingering darkness that infested Charmouth. I swore it to his face. Then, when he wrote to ask for my help, I told him I couldn’t. I was busy. Life had brought more responsibilities than I could manage, and I couldn’t justify a vacation home to hunt ghosts. Not now. Maybe not ever. “Tommy…” Eli said slowly. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know.” “I know that. It’s what I want.” It was a poor example of penance, but it was the best I could manage. It’d have to do. I reached down, my fingers gripping the sides of Ryan’s head but the skin of the cheeks was like paper. It slipped through my fingers, tearing from rot. “Use his hair,” Jacob suggested, voice hoarse. “Might be easier.” I nodded, closing my hand around Ryan’s hair. I lifted him from the cooler. I lifted my best friend up from a bed of ice, his skull spinning limply, his flesh nearly translucent in the flashlight gleam. “Alright,” I sputtered, wrestling my emotions into submission. “N-Now we’ve gotta place our candles inside. Eli, you first.” He stepped forward. Eli slipped his tealight into Ryan’s left eye-socket, then stepped back to give Jacob room to place his in Ryan’s right. That left the mouth for me. I put it gently onto his tongue, swallowing my disgust. “Now we’ve gotta kill the flashlights. Ryan was specific in his notes, and we’ve gotta navigate by lantern alone.” Eli and Jacob murmured in quiet dissent, but turned off their flashlights all the same. We stood there for a moment, the three of us drowning in darkness, too shocked to speak or move. Ryan’s candlelight eyes cast Charmouth Forest in an ethereal, Halloween glow. “Let’s go,” I said, pressing forward. The sooner we got this finished, the sooner I could get to work at repressing the memory. We hiked slowly. Without the flashlights, every root and rock became a potential sprained ankle, so we used the trees and boulders to steady us as we went. None of us spoke. It didn’t feel right I suppose, not with the weight of the moment on us. My eyes found my watch. Thirty minutes. That was the time limit we’d agreed upon before setting out tonight. We’d wander Culton Vale for thirty minutes, we’d indulge Ryan’s superstitions, follow the steps he outlined in his notes and will, and then we’d call it a night. We’d bury Ryan’s head, get well-and-truly drunk, and then do our best to forget we’d ever done something so horrible to somebody so wonderful. But ten minutes in, Jacob halted. He waved to us, whispering under his breath, “Check this out. I think I see something carved into the tree.” Eli and I drifted to him, squinting to see in the dim light. “It’s just here,” Jacob said, tapping his fingers over a recess in the wood. “See it?” I frowned, looking more closely. Yes. There was certainly something there– a shape. It was a narrow gash, a straight line carved into the bark with a series of sideways Cs running down its center. “Looks a bit like a ribcage,” I muttered, and as I touched the sigil I felt goosebumps race across my hand. “Probably just teeangers,” Eli said, folding his arms. “They probably carved it to fuck with families or whatever.” Jacob laughed. “If it’s kids playing a prank, then kudos to them because they did a damn thorough job. Look at that.” I lifted Ryan’s head. His candle glow spilled across Jacob, across his pointing arm, and the trees that loomed before it. On each of them were similar symbols. No– not similar. Identical. Ribcages, carved into the bark. “What the hell,” I said. “These things are all over the place.” Jacob slapped me on the back. “Well, what are we waiting for? This is what we came here for, isn’t it? A little morbid Halloween fun?” Eli shivered, pulling his jacket tighter around him. “Sure. Just remember that we all agreed on 30 minutes– it’s getting colder by the minute.” “That’s the spirit.” We stepped off, boots sweeping through blankets of leaves. The sigils led us. They went on forever, seemingly, a never-ending line of ribcages goading us deeper and deeper into the black heart of the forest. It wasn’t long before the trees seemed to close in on us. Press us down. They narrowed into tight clutches, their branches reaching out and scraping across us like fingernails. A sound met my ears. A shrill whine. It came from somewhere distant, somewhere beyond the swirling mire of shadows we’d found ourselves in. “You hear that?” I asked. Jacob grimaced. “Sure do. Sounds terrible. Like a razorblade being pulled across violin strings.” He shifted on his feet, and for the first time it sounded like he was nervous. “You guys don’t think it might be…” “The Maestro?” Eli laughed. “Come on, man. It’s probably just teeangers screwing with us.” He waved a hand toward the gloom. “They’ve probably got a speaker set up out there, a few night vision cameras sitting in trees, and we’re being recorded right now so they can become TikTok famous. It’s so obvious.” “I don’t know,” Jacob murmured, his voice cold with dread. “It sounds awful, man. Like agony. It’s like… a fucking rat crawled inside my head and started chewing on my eardrums. There’s no way that’s a bunch of kids. It’s gotta be the Maestro.” Then, his mouth flickered into a smirk. “Well, either him or Nickelback. Eli lunged at him. The two of them danced around, laughing while Eli playfully swung at Jacob’s giant frame. Normally, I would’ve found it funny. Entertaining. Normally, it would’ve been a nice bit of levity after a moment so taut with fear, but as I stood there in the blackness, I couldn’t help but notice something worrying. The music was getting closer. “Alright, some of their stuff sucks, but Silver Side Up? That album’s amazing,” Eli said to Jacob. “I mean, How You Remind Me? That song went quadruple platinum, dude. You think shitty music goes quadruple platinum?” Jacob threw his arms out madly. “Yes!” he shouted. “Literally all the time, dude!” “Back me up on this, would you, Tommy?” Eli said, throwing an arm over my shoulder. “You play guitar. Tell him Nickelback is good shit.” I opened my mouth but the words weren’t there. “I… I uh….” All I could focus on was that sound in the dark– that low whine, graveyard tune that was getting closer and closer. It came alongside a groan of shifting trees. Of snapping branches. It came alongside the almost imperceptible rumble of the dirt beneath my feet, of something heavy moving across the earth. “I think something’s coming,” I said. They weren’t listening. Jacob’s hands were planted on his hips, and he was practically shouting into Eli’s ear. “Just because something’s popular doesn’t mean it’s good. I mean, hell. Look at the Maestro. The bastard massacred like a dozen kids and what happened to him? He became a celebrity. We just saw half of fucking Charmouth come out tonight with their little lanterns to get a glimpse of the dick.” Eli ran a hand through his hair, incredulous. “You’re actually comparing Nickelback to the Maestro? Are you nuts?” “I’m only–” CRACK Jacob and Eli went silent. The three of us turned, and somewhere beyond our vision came a loud whistle followed by the thunderclap of something titanic crashing to the earth. “Was that a tree falling just now?” Jacob said. Eli’s hands became fists. “Great, now the kids are cutting down trees to scare us? They’re gonna get somebody killed.” He surged forward. “I’ve had it, man. I swear to god, if there’s a bunch of little shits out there messing with us, then I’m gonna Maestro their asses myself.” Jacob laughed. “Good one.” I didn’t make a sound. Eli turned his flashlight on, swiveling it across the forest and painting the trees in a blinding glow. “Anybody out there?” he bellowed. My flesh prickled. My breath turned to haze, then fog, and I shivered as the air around us plummeted to freezing. Somewhere inside of me, somewhere ancient and primal, rang a panicked chorus of alarm bells. My feet moved backward, once, twice. “Listen up, assholes,” Eli roared, his flashlight darting this way and that, attempting to catch any fleeing pranksters. “We’re trying to pay respects to a friend, got it? So cut the crap. Take your stupid video, your dogshit music, and go fuck yoursel–” His voice vanished. It died, stolen by the night, and his flashlight fell from his grip. It rolled. The beam made dancing shadows out of the surrounding trees. “Eli?” I croaked, fear thick in my voice. Sputtering. Gurgling. I staggered forward, staggered toward the sound of words choking in the throat of a man who was desperate to speak but couldn’t. He was messing with us. Playing a joke. This was all part of the game– getting Jacob back for the Nickelback comments. “Eli!” Jacob said threateningly. “Not cool, bro.” He turned on his own flashlight, brought it up and bathed the forest ahead. My breath caught in my chest. I gasped, eyes moving back and forth in rapid succession as I tried to process the scene. It couldn’t be real. It was a trick of the light, or my imagination, or some kind of hologram or drug-induced nightmare but it wasn’t real because Eli wasn’t the way he was supposed to be. For one thing, his mouth wasn’t working. It was hanging limp, jaw struggling to move. His lips were red, and blood poured down his chin onto his white jacket. It pooled around something in his chest. Something that shouldn’t be there, but was– a jagged piece of wood. “No…” I mumbled. “No… No… No… No…” Somebody pulled me backward, hard. It was Jacob. “Leave him,” he said hoarsely. “This isn’t right– we gotta go. Now.” I shook my head. That wasn’t happening under any circumstance. It wasn’t happening because what we were looking at couldn’t possibly be real. Eli wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be because people didn’t die like that– trees didn’t just impale them in the middle of the forest. “It’s a joke…” I breathed. “A stupid… dumb… joke and…” CRACK The jagged piece of wood in Eli’s chest expanded, tiny tendrils gripping his chest before ripping him backward in a flash of shadow. He was gone. Jacob’s flashlight sat trained on the place he was, but all that remained was a pool of blood. Something had taken him into the forest. “TOMMY!” Jacob roared, grabbing my arm. “LET’S GO!” We ran. We went blindly, Jacob’s flashlight bobbing up and down as we cut a stumbling path through brush and trees, uncaring about our direction so long as it was away from whatever we’d just seen. “The fuck was that, man?” Jacob asked, breathless as we tore through the woods. “I don’t know,” I replied numbly. But that was a lie. The truth was, I knew exactly what we’d just seen– and I was almost certain Jacob knew too. After all, we’d lit the candles. We’d followed the sigils. We’d navigated by the decapitated head of our dead friend, and then at the end we’d even heard the decrepit scream of music. His music. The Maestro of Charmouth [Wood.](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17e50wa/the_night_i_found_the_maestro_of_charmouth_wood/) [MORE](https://www.reddit.com/r/TalesFromTheCryptid/comments/jba8ww/story_master_list/)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17ckem2/the_maestro_of_charmouth_wood/

nosleep

Born-Beach

My Husband Gets Up at 12 AM Every Night, Last Night When He Came Back, He Was Different

I never believed in the supernatural or anything out of the ordinary. That was until last night when I realized that my husband, Jack, had been getting up at precisely 12 AM every night. It started innocently enough, with him giving some vague excuse about needing some fresh air. I never thought much of it, assuming it was just one of his strange habits. But last night... last night was different. It all began when I woke up and realized Jack was not in bed. The clock on the nightstand read 12:15 AM. A chill ran down my spine as I stepped into the living room, only to find him sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the wall. His eyes were empty, lifeless, and it was as if he had no soul within him. **"Jack? Are you okay?" I asked, my voice trembling.** He turned his head slowly to face me, and a sinister smile crept across his face, revealing teeth that seemed sharper and more menacing than they should be. "I'm fine, dear," he replied, but his voice sounded off, almost mechanical. Something was very wrong. The man I had loved and known for years was gone, replaced by this hollow version of himself. He got up and walked past me, heading towards the bedroom. I followed him quietly, my heart racing. In the bedroom, he stood before the mirror, his reflection sending shivers down my spine. His eyes were completely black, and his skin seemed to ripple as if something were moving beneath it. I gasped and took a step back, my fear intensifying. He turned to me again, his unnatural smile never wavering. **"You should go back to bed, dear. Nothing to worry about."** But how could I go back to bed? I knew I had to find out what he was doing at 12 AM every night. I couldn't simply ignore the fact that my husband was no longer the man I married. I decided to follow him. The next night, I pretended to be asleep, my mind racing with fear and curiosity. At exactly 12 AM, Jack rose from the bed and silently made his way to the front door. I slipped on my coat and shoes and followed him, careful not to make a sound. He walked down the empty streets, moving with an eerie grace that I had never seen in him before. I kept my distance, hiding in the shadows, as he reached an old, dilapidated building at the outskirts of town. The place had always given me the creeps. Jack entered the building, and I hesitated for a moment before following him inside. What I saw there still haunts me to this day. The interior was dimly lit, and a group of figures surrounded him. They were tall, grotesque beings with pale, almost translucent skin, and eyes that glowed with an otherworldly light. I watched in horror as they seemed to merge with Jack, their forms twisting and warping him until he was no longer recognizable as human. It was like he was becoming one of them, losing himself in their malevolent collective. I knew I had to get out of there, so I backed away slowly, my heart pounding. I managed to make it back home without being detected. The next morning, Jack returned to bed, seemingly unaware of my discovery. I knew I couldn't live with that thing masquerading as my husband any longer. I packed a bag and left, vowing never to return to that house of horrors. I don't know what those beings are or what they wanted with Jack, but I couldn't stay to find out. Now, I live in constant fear, looking over my shoulder, knowing that they might be watching, waiting, and ready to come for me. Whatever happened to my husband that night, it turned him into something unrecognizable, something sinister. And now, I can't help but wonder if he was ever truly human at all. This morning, as I huddled in my new, unfamiliar apartment, I heard a knock on my door. Dread washed over me like a tidal wave, and I cautiously approached the entrance. When I opened the door, I was greeted with a sight that would haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. Standing before me was a figure that looked exactly like my husband, Jack, or at least, the man he used to be. He wore the same clothes, had the same face, and yet, I knew it wasn't him. His eyes were no longer the beautiful shade of brown I'd fallen in love with; they were empty, soulless voids. He looked at me with an expression that sent shivers down my spine, a twisted parody of the affectionate gaze he used to give me. **"I missed you, honey. Please come home," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth or emotion.** Terror surged through my veins as I slammed the door shut, locking it as fast as my trembling hands would allow. That thing may have taken on my husband's appearance, but I knew it was no longer him. Whatever had happened to him that night had turned him into something else, something monstrous. And now, it seemed that it had followed me, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to reclaim me. I live in constant fear, knowing that the being that wears my husband's face is out there, watching and waiting. I can only hope that whatever it is, it never finds its way back into my life, or worse, into my new home. The memory of my husband's transformation and the dread in those empty, soulless eyes haunt me every day, a chilling reminder that some secrets are better left undiscovered.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17cm3l1/my_husband_gets_up_at_12_am_every_night_last/

nosleep

CreepyGrizzly

I uncovered something ancient and malevolent in Antarctica

Antarctica is the least explored land on our planet. Unlike the North Pole, there is a full continent below the miles of ice larger than all over Europe. It was a place that had its own vast history, all covered now under kilometers of ice. All that area of unknown drew my interest even as a child looking at maps my father showed me of Roald Amundsen and Robert Falcon Scott expeditions. Unlocking the secrets of a vault of knowledge in the frozen pole drove my academic path. Degrees in geology, marine biology, and astrophysics ate up my youth as I pursued any opportunity to work in any field relating to the Antarctic and where research may be funded. But I was not an Ivory Tower acolyte, no, I took any chance to travel to the snowy terrain with relish and I managed to rack up 4 research expeditions including 2 of my own. I felt at ease there, like I belonged in the white realm. I tell you all this dear reader, so you understand some aspects of who I am, of why I did what I did. Of why so many had to die. My skills as a research scientist in the Antarctic caught someone's attention, specifically, someone from a company called Herskeren. I received an unorthodox request to lead a research team into the eastern part of the continent near the Transantarctic Mountains. Herskeren had convinced the provost to allow me to go in exchange for a generous donation to the University. What made the expedition so strange was that it was already in progress; I was to replace the previous project leader who went missing. For those reading who do not know, expeditions take months of planning and preparation in supplies and logistics and the loss of something like a project lead was unheard of to not cancel the whole thing. I was told by a Herskeren representative they were excavating something but could divulge no further details. That project was being forced to continue uninterrupted piqued my interest greatly, so I agreed with little knowledge of what I was agreeing to. The mystery was enough for me. I eventually arrived by ski plane to the site after several weather delays. The site was a frenzy of activity with digging equipment and workers in hardhats shuffling between prefab buildings and a massive opening in the nearby mountain. The snow had battered the site before I landed, and the environment appeared to be rebelling at the unwelcome intrusion into its icy domain. A man in a thick coat greeted me, he was tall and broad and walked with a strength that betrayed the fact he was not from academia. “Dr. Evelyn Mercer? I’m Greggor and I welcome you on behalf of Herskeren.” I shook his hand, his handshake intentionally light in touch and he gestured for me to follow him towards an opening in the mountain. I followed him down the mouth of the entrance through the frozen rock pushing past various workers engaging in their business in an almost drone-like fashion. I stopped for a moment to examine one of the gaunt faces passing by me. There was something lost in their eyes, their expression of having lost something and yet not knowing how to do anything else. My attention was refocused on following Greggor as we walked through tunnels that wound through the mountain. “This looks like a construction site, not an archeological dig” I called out to him. “This is certainly an interesting place Dr. Mercer, all will become clear soon, we’re almost to the dig site,” Greggor responded without breaking pace. We walked for another few minutes until we finally reached another opening, and I admit the breath left me. What I saw before me was a cavern over a hundred meters across and even larger in height. The cavern's grandeur was awe-inspiring, its walls towering upward like frozen waterfalls, eternally frozen in cascading formations that glistened with a crystalline sheen. The very air in the cavern was heavy with an icy stillness, each breath crystallizing upon contact with the frigid atmosphere. It was as if the very essence of winter itself had been trapped within the confines of this immense natural cathedral, untouched by the outside world. At the heart of this glacial sanctum, a solitary, obsidian pillar rose from the very bowels of the Earth, a stark contrast to the ethereal, translucent beauty of its surroundings. The pillar's surface was as dark as the abyss, a void amidst the glittering ice, and it seemed to absorb all light and warmth, casting an eerie, otherworldly aura across the vast chamber. Around this enigmatic black monolith, the ice formations seemed to bend and twist, caught in an eternal dance with the mysterious pillar, as if paying homage to its presence. Stalactites of ice hung from the cavern's ceiling like delicate chandeliers, their icy fingers pointing downward in reverence to the obsidian centerpiece. The cavern echoed with the sound of one's breath, a haunting, almost reverential silence that enveloped visitors, making them acutely aware of the profound solitude of this subterranean world. The walls bore scars of time, etchings and carvings created by nature's slow hand over millennia, each layer of ice and rock telling a silent story of the passage of time. As I stood there, taking in the breathtaking, frozen cathedral before me, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of unease. This place, hidden deep within the heart of Antarctica, held a presence that seemed to defy explanation. The juxtaposition of the black pillar against the radiant ice formations was both mesmerizing and disconcerting. Greggor, who had been leading me through this surreal environment, spoke in hushed tones, "Dr. Mercer, this is the reason we brought you here. The pillar, it's unlike anything we've ever encountered. It was discovered after unusual EM signals kept interfering with satellites passing over this location. Various teams were sent, and each met with various failures of everything from personnel to equipment malfunctions. Eventually, this cavern was discovered containing the source of the signal, and a formal expedition was sent.” I walked over to the pillar and felt a faint hum which seemed inexplicable to the cold and seemingly inert stone. As I placed my hand on it, I recoiled almost instantly, a feeling of nausea overwhelmed me as I lurched backward. Greggor rushed over and held me falling “Dr. Mercer, are you okay?” He exclaimed. I can’t explain it fully, but I felt something when I touched the pillar. It was sounds, a cacophony of sounds. They were scrambled, like too many radio signals coming in at once and yet all playing at the same time. I lost consciousness before I hit the ground. \*\*\* I awoke a short while later in a medical tent, Greggor was sitting near me and approached when he saw my eyes open. “Dr. Mercer, you are okay, you fainted after touching the pillar and were brought here to a medical site. Take a minute to adjust and tell me how you are feeling” “I feel...fine actually,” I said blinking a few times. “I’m so sorry Dr. Mercer, this has never happened before. Many people have made physical contact with the pillar, but no one has ever exhibited a reaction previously. I would have warned you if we thought such an occurrence was possible.” I thought about telling him about what I felt when I touched the Obelisk but cautioned myself. “Greggor, not to be too blunt but what is your interest here exactly?” “I’m sorry Dr. Mercer, I don’t know what you mean?” I laid back in the medical bed and stared upwards. “You mentioned satellites being disrupted, as far as I know Herskeren doesn’t own and launch satellites. But governments do, I’m guessing you are here to represent some country’s interests in this discovery, no? But that can’t be right since the Antarctica Treaty specifically forbids any military presence on the continent, right?” Greggor paused for a minute before standing up and heading towards the tent exit. “All I can say is I’m here to monitor the safety and security of the site, nothing more or less. Please rest up Dr. Mercer, there is much to do, and we will need your assistance in that endeavor.” He gave a nod, then left leaving the cold chill of Antarctic air flooding into the tent before the seal reclosed. The icy air hit my lungs and instead of discomfort I felt refreshed as I so often did when here. As I lay in bed I thought of the sounds, the voices if I were to put a label on it. What I heard was nonsensical, perhaps it was signals being bounced from the atmosphere back down here? Maybe this obelisk was some kind of receiver? I shook my head to no one. No, it felt like something was reaching out like something wanted out. \*\*\* The days after were a blur to me as I worked nearly around the clock on establishing just what it was, I was even excavating so I started by looking through what I had to work with. The previous project director, Dr. Khan, who had gone missing, and was quite a distinguished scientist put my resume to shame and made it clear I was a backup choice for this task. I spent almost two days alone going through his scattered work in his tent. The man appeared to be losing his grip the longer the notes went on in time. Initial scans, spectrometry analysis, all things the Herskeren reps already gave me slowly transitioned to handwritten notes and then literal fragments of paper around the work area. A scientist of his caliber should never have been so professionally sloppy with their work and yet here it was, scattered in front of me. I do not say the man was losing his grip lightly as Dr. Khan’s notes near the end referenced scientifically absurd terms like antediluvian about the obelisk. He would note repeatedly the object was impossibly old, far beyond any geological or anthropological explanation would allow for, citing erroneous radiological dating. After exhausting what I could find in Dr. Kahn’s tent, I made my new home the cavern containing the obelisk. Greggor was my silent shadow, always watching me but rarely speaking or commenting on my work unless I asked him a question. He was vague and enigmatic, and I did not trust him knowing he was likely reporting on my every move. I took a different approach than my predecessor and instead of focusing on just the obelisk itself, I took to examining the room it was in. The cavern around it was majestic and completely illogical to all knowledge of how mountains and glaciers form. While there can be caverns, tectonics, and other geological movements should have shattered this place long ago, and yet here it was. My first real breakthrough was getting a ground scan. Initial radar imaging was fairly in line with the surroundings, and it seems likely Dr. Kahn dismissed it to focus on other aspects. I had a suspicion the ambient EM radiation the obelisk was giving off might be interfering so I ordered a scan with the best ground penetrating radar Herskeren could offer and it was so much more than I could have expected. The obelisk was just the top of a massive structure beneath it descending through more than 2km of ice to the earth below and it appeared perhaps even further. It simply wasn’t possible. “Run the scan again” I called out exasperated to the tech helping me draw the attention of Greggor. “What’s going on Dr. Mercer?” I ignored him initially as the scan was returning the same results. “This...this isn’t possible.” He placed a hand on my shoulder as I turned to him “These scans say there’s something unimaginably large beneath us.” “What do you mean?” I pulled Greggor over to the scanner and tried to explain the various color coding. “You can see it here” gesturing with my finger, “all this is a structure of some kind beneath us right now. It goes on for kilometers.” The man remained silent for a few moments before responding “And it’s not more rock, we are in a mountain after all?” I shook my head violently back and forth, “No, no, look again. This structure, of which this obelisk is just the top, would fit 3 or 4 of the Burj Khalifa stacked on top of one another. This is NOT a natural formation.” “I’ll have to defer to your expertise Dr. Mercer. If you are correct, then we need to understand what is underneath us.” I turned back to the scan results. “What aren’t you telling me Greggor, how could this go unnoticed?” “I’m hiding nothing, Dr. Mercer, it would be of no benefit to hide anything from you.” Something snapped a bit inside me. “Then tell me what happened to Dr. Khan? How does one just disappear?” Greggor gestured for the assistant tech and a few other to go get some food leaving the two of us alone in the ice chamber. “Dr. Khan began to behave erratically. I imagine you noticed similar declines in his work through the records. Why I cannot say but he began to not eat, to not sleep, and his work declined. We tried to remove him from the project, for his good, but before we could meditate him, he ran into the tunnels here. We searched for days and have been searching since, but we never found him or his remains.” “You didn’t think this was worth mentioning to me?” Greggor cocked his head as if confused, “A scientist as brilliant as Dr. Khan always had a bit of eccentricity, we tried, I tried, to keep him focused and when it was clear he needed a break for his health he ran away. This information wasn’t what I would consider pertinent to your task though I offer it freely now.” “Don’t do that, don’t put some benevolence to what is going on here” I snarled back. “And what is going on? We have a find unlike any other, and you just uncovered yet another layer to this mystery. Please, tell me you are okay to continue working?” I eyed Greggor up for a while before responding, “Yes, I’m sorry, this all just... a lot.” Greggor nodded in agreement back, “Indeed. Please, Dr. Mercer, go get some rest for now, we can explore this discovery further tomorrow.” “No, no, I’m fine. I need to go over these scans more.” Greggor looked me up and down, “Alright, but if I need to enforce rest I will.” I ignored him and went back to the radar scans. The structure below appeared to be of the same material the Obelisk was, and it too was distorting a clear picture of EM emissions. I couldn’t help but wonder who, or what would build such a thing in a place like this. \*\*\* Days turned into weeks as I continued my exploration, and during that time, my sense of unease deepened. The workers who roamed the site, digging, and cataloging, all the logistics of the expedition, seemed to be gradually losing themselves in their tasks, their expressions growing vacant, as though their very souls were being absorbed by the obsidian enigma. They toiled tirelessly, oblivious to the harsh conditions and their well-being as if the obelisk held some inexplicable power over them. I too felt a toll. I began to experience disturbing dreams, vivid and unsettling, filled with images of ancient civilizations and cosmic forces beyond human comprehension. In these dreams, the obelisk was a conduit to otherworldly realms, a bridge between the stars and the Earth. I awoke each morning with a sense of foreboding. As I delved deeper into the mysteries of the obelisk, I started to notice subtle changes in the cavern itself. The stalactites and ice formations began to shift, their delicate chandeliers twisting and contorting as if they were alive. Greggor constantly nagged at me to rest but I ignored him. The work was too important, too all-consuming. The structure beneath the rock refused to give up its mysteries. The ice was just too thick to cut through, and the path of any teams exploring the various tunnel corridors always returned in confused failure. One way appeared open only to seemingly be closed the next time. Other team reported hearing voices calling to them only for flat rock and dead ends to greet them One night, as I stood before the obelisk taking readings, I felt a pull, an irresistible urge to make contact with the black pillar once more. I glanced around like a frightened child to see Greggor was nowhere nearby. I was confused for he was ever my shadow, and I swore he was just there, but I was alone. The ice chamber seemed to reverberate from the hum of the obelisk. I reached out, my hand trembling, and as my fingers made contact with the obsidian surface, I was transported into a realm of pure darkness. In that abyss, I heard the cacophony of voices once more, but this time, they were clearer, more distinct, or were they? They spoke of ancient civilizations, of beings from beyond the stars, and of a power that could reshape the very fabric of reality. It was as if the obelisk itself was a repository of cosmic knowledge, a key to unlocking the secrets of the universe, open to me and me alone if I would just... And then I was walking, walking along a rocky alien world. I know it was not Earth as the sky was wrong, the stars were all foreign. I lurched as the ground was inverted above and below me. There was a non-Euclidian nature to topography that sent me spiraling forward towards a sickly star, not dying, but infected... Sand, I was on a beach, the oceans crashed around me. These were not gentle waves, but violent primordial towers of water that crashed kilometers ahead of me. The sky was scorched as lightning clashed with fury above. I looked behind to see volcanoes that reached the heavens belching fire and ash. I tried to walk forward but the ground was too hot, the air too choked with carbon dioxide and methane to sustain me. I saw over the chaos to see a tower, a ziggurat jutting upward. It was the black stone of the obelisk but there was a light shining brightly at the top, it was emitting energy through the atmosphere out into space. I tried to move, to breathe, and instead, I died there on the sand... My breath reached me as my hand was pulled away, Greggor had slammed into me sending me flying across the frozen floor. “What the hell were you doing Dr. Mercer!” I struggled to gain any composure, “I...I don’t....where am I?” “You were standing there convulsing, I had to help you. What in god’s name would possess you to touch the pillar again?” My mind was fuzzy, I didn’t know how to respond. “I can’t say, the obelisk. It just called to me.” Greggor stood over me, the man was imposing but something brutal was present in him. “Dr. Mercer, you are the only one who keeps calling it an obelisk, why?” I grabbed my head in pain, “I don’t...the obelisk it...what?” “We’ll talk later, let’s get you to the med tent for now” Greggor reluctantly sighed and picked me off the frozen ground. \*\*\* I spent the next few days in the med tent with every test under the sun run on me, but I was in perfect health. Greggor watched me even closer than before sitting nearby either as a comfort or a jailor I could not tell. He told me he recommended to Herskeren that I be removed from the project, but the clean bill from the doctor persuaded them to keep me for now. I wonder if they just wanted to observe what was happening to me further like a lab rat. What I saw from touching the obelisk replayed repeatedly in my head. It couldn’t be real I rationalized, it was a dream, a hallucination from overworking but I could not shake it. I thought again and again about telling someone what I had experienced but something always stopped me. Something inside told me to keep it a secret, for what I had learned was for myself only. I was eventually allowed to return to my work but there was now thick fencing around the obelisk to prevent any more similar accidents as Greggor put it. As days turned into weeks, my obsession with the obelisk deepened. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to discover, hidden within the depths of the icy cavern. The dream-like visions I had experienced after touching the pillar continued to haunt me, and I couldn't let go of the overwhelming need to uncover their meaning. I became increasingly isolated from the rest of the research team. Greggor kept a watchful eye on me, but I could sense his growing unease. He was no longer just a Herskeren representative; he was now a fellow prisoner of the enigma that had taken hold of us all. The workers in the expedition had become mere automatons, driven by an unseen force, their vacant expressions a testament to their surrender to the obelisk. One night, as I delved deeper into my research, I made a decision that would change everything. I couldn't resist the urge to confront the obelisk once more, to seek answers from the mysterious entity that seemed to call out to me. The pull was undeniable, a magnetic force drawing me towards the obsidian obelisk. I touched the obelisk, and the world around me dissolved once again into darkness. This time, the visions were clearer, and I could understand the voices that echoed in the abyss. They spoke of a primordial evil, an eldritch force that had been imprisoned within the obelisk for eons. It hungered for release, craving a conduit to escape its icy prison. It promised knowledge and power beyond human comprehension. As the visions unfolded, I saw the ancient civilizations that had worshipped the eldritch entity, conducting horrifying rituals and sacrifices to appease it. I saw the rise and fall of empires, all under the shadow of the black pillar. The primordial land of Antarctica sundered and slaved to its will. And I saw the cataclysmic events that had led to the entity's entrapment, sealed away by those who had glimpsed the horrors it could unleash. I felt an overwhelming sense of dread as if the very essence of this malevolent being had seeped into my soul. It sought a vessel, a willing host, and it had chosen me. The voices in the vision whispered to me, promising that I could be the key to its release, that I could wield its terrible power. I was torn between terror and fascination, knowing that I held the fate of the world in my hands. The visions ended, and I was back in the cold, dimly lit chamber, my hand still resting against the obelisk. Greggor's voice pierced through the fog in my mind, "Dr. Mercer, are you alright? What happened?" I withdrew my hand from the obsidian surface and turned to Greggor. "I... I saw it. I saw what was inside this thing. It wants out." Greggor's eyes widened with a mixture of fear and curiosity. "It?" I hesitated for a moment, wrestling with the temptation to keep the knowledge to myself. But deep down, I knew there was something was fundamentally wrong with what we were exploring, and I needed help. "I saw something in there, something from before any comprehension of time," I began. "It has been imprisoned for eons, and it wants to escape. It promised me power and knowledge, but I know it's a trap. We need to destroy this thing before it's too late." Greggor nodded, his face grim. "I've suspected something was terribly wrong here, but I didn't know the extent of it. Herskeren has been far too eager to force this project to continue despite so many setbacks and accidents. We can't let this continue. We need a plan." We began to devise a strategy to destroy the obelisk using mining explosives, to sever the connection between it and whatever was inside that had ensnared us all. But the more we delved into our plan, the more we realized the magnitude of the challenge. The obelisk's power was immense, and it had subtly manipulated the minds of the workers, making them fiercely protective of the obelisk. As we prepared to rig the chamber with explosives, the workers began to grow agitated. They sensed our intentions, and their once vacant eyes now burned with an unnatural fervor. They formed a human barricade around the obelisk, determined to protect it at all costs, with their very lives. The situation grew tense as we faced off against the workers, knowing that we had to carry out our plan to prevent the prison from being unleashed upon the world. No words of Greggor or I could move the thrall-like loyalty they held towards the obsidian object. I did not think myself to be a killer, but I was ready to end many lives then and there. This is the sin I confess here. As we prepared to set off the explosives, to end this madness, a bone-chilling howl filled the chamber. The very walls seemed to tremble as the pillar screeched with sickly green energy knocking Greggor and me to the ground. It was as if the obelisk itself had come to life, a shadowy form writhing and contorting, defying the laws of reality which desperately rebelled at keeping it contained. As the eldritch power began to manifest in the chamber, the workers fell to their knees, their wills completely dominated by the ancient malevolence giving supplication to the entity inside. It was with the chaos of the room I realized I had lost the detonator in the energy blast. I scrambled to find it, but the enthralled workers had grabbed it. And they had grabbed Greggor. The man fought like a lion but was overwhelmed by the hands of the enthralled workers pulling him down. I couldn’t hear him over the cacophony of noise in the echoing ice chamber, but I saw him mouth the word RUN as he produced the detonator in his hand. Staring at the scene one last time I ran, I ran as fast as my legs would carry me darting through the tunnel as I heard then felt the impact of the blast wave connect with me. There was an impossibly inhuman howl I heard as the cave system collapsed around me. By luck I had made it to the edge of the entrance as the last of the rocks crashed behind me. The worksite outside was empty save for me, all the workers had been caught in the thrall of the obelisk and disappeared underneath the icy rock. I am alone now in the barren desert of snow. We had come so close to unleashing something ancient and malevolent, and my beloved Antarctica, once a land of mystery and discovery, had become a gateway to unimaginable horrors. This threat has not ended, it has only been buried. You will not hear of this on the news for even if I am to survive as there is little chance Herskeren will not cover it all up. So, I leave this record for you dear reader, an account of what must never be allowed to be rediscovered. This is the last bit of battery on my satellite cell and I use it to ensure no one comes back here. As for me, the icy bastion of Antarctica has kept me for most of my life, one way or the other I will be at its mercy to either survive or become a permanent part of the frozen land. https://imgur.com/a/tOQWbA0

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17cetid/i_uncovered_something_ancient_and_malevolent_in/

nosleep

Avatarofhorror

My date from hell

I AM DELETING THE APP. I LIKE YOU. IF YOU LIKE ME, MEET ME AT THIS ADRESS AT 10 PM ON FRIDAY That is how it started. Well, I suppose it started a little bit earlier. I have been trying to get back into dating after breaking things off with my girlfriend a few months ago. I had matched with this girl on a dating app- Des. Her picture was stunning- a gorgeous slim blonde that was, admittedly, just my type. Me: Hi Des: ; ) Me: I like your picture Des: Thank you. I picked it myself. I dont know her name though ; ) Me: LOL! Well, you clearly have good taste ; ) Des: Yes. What do you do? Me: I am a doctor. What about you? Des: I am a demon. I cause pain and spread fear. Me: LOL We kept texting intermittently for the next day or so. The conversation was honestly a bit lackluster, but she was cute enought that I was willing to keep it going despite not really being all that engaged. After three days she wrote to let me know she was deleting the app, but would like to meet up. She sent a location and a time. I was a little freaked out. I half- believed I would get there only to find a gang of burly men with sharp implements. Still... she was \*very\* cute. Call me desperate, but I eventually decided to go to the supplied location. It turned out to be a lookout point, accessible by car but quite remote. A lone bench stood by the footpath some hundred feet away from the parking lot. The trees rustled in the autumn wind, and the lights of the city twinkled in the distance. There was no sign of Des, at least not at first. "I did not think you would actually come" Her voice was smooth, almost cooing, yet I sensed a sinister undertone that sent a chill down my spine. It reminded me of a cat purring as it corners an injured mouse. "But I am glad you did, yes" she continued. I still could not see her, concealed as she was by shadows. I saw only a vague humanoid outline that could easily have been missed if not for the movement. There was something... off about her silhouette, something vaguely unsettling. "I enjoyed texting with you a great deal. Still, digital communication can never quite equal the real thing can it? Of hearing each others voices, of seeing each others faces..." Her voice was almost wistful, yet I could not shake the feeling that there was something almost mocking lurking just beneath the surface. "Er..." I began nervously "Well, it is nice to finally meet you. You certainly picked an interesting spot!" She giggled slightly "Everything I do is interesting, yes" She paused for a second before continuing "Are you interesting?" I laughed slightly at her brusque question. "Well, I certainly like to think so." There was a pause, as if she was pondering my words. She seemed to have come slightly closer. It looked as if she was wearing some weird coat, but I still could not make out any specific features. "Why?" Her voice was throaty, almost excited. I had not not imagined it before, she was moving slowly but surely towards me. I shivered as I realised what her gait reminded me of- a stalking predator. "Well, I came here did I not? Even though you could easily be a serial killer" I had intended it as a joke, but she did not laugh. Silence filled the air for a almost a minute. Something about the pregnant pause unnerved me. I could feel my heart beating rapidly in my chest, my body going into fight- or- flight mode. I almost flinched when she finally broke the silence. "If you were a serial killer, how would you kill your victims?" I was slightly puzzled at the odd line of questioning but opted to humor her. "Well, I\`d... er... guess I would kill someone every Halloween. I guess I\`d assault someone going home from a party and... er... stab them..." She suddenly moved perhaps a feet closer. I felt a rush of wind, presumably from the rustlings of her oversized coat. From the outline it appeared to have truly ridiculous shoulderpads. She was only ten feet or so away from me now. "Thats... mundane, yes? I like the Halloween angle, but I need... \*more\* from a man, yes!" I thought I was imagining things at first, but I could have sworn I saw two dots emanating a faint greenish glow, as if a pair of glowing unblinking green eyes were fixed on me. My mouth was as dry as parchment. "....well, I would not just stab them really. I\`d use syringe containing succinylcholine to paralyze them. Then, I\`d swiftly removed their hypophyseal gland using a transsphenoidal approach. I\`d collect the hypophyseal glands of my victims. And I\`d leave a little riddle for the police..." I saw the two green dots fall dark for a second as she blinked. I was at this point beyond terrified and hoping that keeping her amused would prevent things from escalating. I wasnt sure what I thought she was going to do, but I was disinclined to find out. She tilted her head. She had a weird hairstyle, making it look almost as if she had horns. "Now that \*is\* more interesting, yes. A transsphenoidal approach would be..." "Removing the gland through the nose. Its in the brain, but can be handily accessed through the nostrils if you know what you\`re doing" "Ah, yes- and you \*do\* know what you\`re doing, yes. You are a doctor. And everyone would be able to tell that you have... particular skills. Not a common thug, no. Something special. A \*terror\*" Her voice was a low purr. I could almost hear her licking her lips. "This... succinylcholine... would it prevent your victims from feeling pain? From feeling fear?" My eyes stung as beads of sweat streamed into them from my perspiring forehead. "No- it just relaxes the muscles. They would be unable to move, but conscious and fully capable of feeling pain..." The sound she made was almost... indecent. She clearly enjoyed the disturbing thought. "Yesss! Yes! That \*is\* interesting" She paused for a moment before raising a hand. "You will need to come up with good riddles. They must be works of art, yes? Fitting pigments for your canvas..." She unfolded her wings. I had thought them exaggerated shoulderpads, but as they unfurled it was obvious she was endowed with a pair of batlike wings. The glowing green eyes seemed to spark with excitement. Something I suspect was a tail coiled behind her. "It is Halloween soon. I will see you then, my \*interesting\* man. Second date, yes? I wish to admire your work. Impress me, yes? Earn my affections, yes? " I almost fell backwards as she took flight, my muscles just barely resisting the air pressure. When she was gone I went back to my car. As soon as I entered it I started shaking and crying uncontrollably. I started driving until I was back in the city. I am parked outside of the bus station now, comforted by the taxis and drivers parked nearby. I dont want to be alone right now. I am sitting in my car as I write this. I dont know what to do. Des is not human. Does she expect me to... \*do\* something? And what if I dont? ​ ​

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17ck98n/my_date_from_hell/

nosleep

Totallytnotawerewolf

The Loving Wife

The old farmhouse sat on a small hill in the middle of nowhere. At the bottom of the lane sat a black sedan, its engine off. Its occupant, Jackson Lambert, sat inside, smoking one last cigarette before he began. He had never taken a job so far away from the city before. He was over three and a half hours downstate. The closest town (if it could be called that) was West Knob, population 600, should the green road sign be believed. It was now fully dark, and the moon had started lifting itself above the horizon. It was the color of an orange flame and resembled a giant pumpkin floating in the sky. It was time. Jackson stamped out his cigarette in an ashtray, slipped on a pair of blue rubber gloves, and pulled out his fully automatic pistol from beneath his seat. Jackson first met his client a month before at *Talbot's Bar & Grill* in Chicago. Jackson Lambert was the sort of person you had to contact through the friend of a friend of a friend, and that's just what Dorothy Naughton had done. In that meeting, she used Lambert's favorite four-word cliche. "Money is no object." That was the initial meeting, to get a feel for the client and to make sure everything was on the up-and-up. The next day, they met at *Dante's Motel* in Aurora. Dorothy came prepared. She brought along with her half of the agreed-upon fee (half to be paid in advance, and the other half would be paid after the job was complete), photographs of her husband, as well as their house. She had well-made directions from Chicago to the farmhouse where she and her husband lived, detailed information about the layout of the house, where her husband could be found inside, and a specified time the hit should go down. On the day in question, she'd be visiting her mom. Jackson was to make it look like a home invasion gone wrong. He assured her that would be no problem. Before parting ways, Dorothy Naughton said to him, "I love my husband, but he's very sick. This—this will be best for him." *Whatever you need to say so that you can sleep at night, lady.* Jackson thought to himself. All of his clients had some kind of excuse to appease their consciences. Jackson walked up the lane, amazed by the total isolation of where he was. The nearest neighboring house was well over two miles down the road, and the entire time he had been sitting at the bottom of the lane, not a single car passed by on the desolate country road. Reaching the house, Jackson let himself in by the front door. It was unlocked, just as Dorothy Naughton said it would be. Jackson had no problem navigating the house, even in the dark. Mrs. Naughton's description of the house was so detailed that Jackson felt he knew the home as well as his own. Mr. Naughton was supposed to be upstairs in the bedroom. Jackson quietly ascended the narrow staircase, careful not to make any sound on the steps devoid of carpet. At the top of the stairs, he could hear the stertorous breathing of Mr. Naughton coming from the bedroom to the right. Casually, he walked in. The room was illuminated by the light of the moon, which shone in through curtainless windows. There in the bed was Mr. Naughton, lying stark-naked above the covers; his body glistened in moon-lit sweat, and he convulsed with labored breaths. His eyes rolled madly in their sockets as he looked around the room in fevered confusion. Jackson felt no pity for the man. "Hello, Mr. Naughton," he said. "I've brought a gift from your wife." Then he raised his pistol and fired three shots into the man's head. He lay there motionless; thick crimson saturated the pillow beneath him. The job was done. Jackson Lambert turned to leave when, to his surprise, Mr. Naughton started screaming. He screamed at the top of his voice. Jackson reeled around and saw Naughton convulsing and frothing at the mouth. He rolled out of bed, landing on the floor with a heavy thud. The man supported himself on his hands and knees, but still he screamed. Jackson watched in terror as the flesh from the nape of his neck, down to just above his buttock, split like a sausage that had steamed too long. In a mad panic, Jackson emptied his pistol. Every bullet hit its mark, but Mr. Naughton did not fall. His skin continued to split, revealing thick, dark hair matted with blood beneath his torn flesh. Jackson watched the perverse transformation long enough. He bolted through the door and ran to the stairs; before he realized what happened, he was tumbling down them. At the bottom step, he heard a loud *SNAP!* and felt fire explode in his leg. Beneath his pantleg protruded jagged bone through flesh. Jackson Lambert felt himself going into shock. He heard a low guttural growl and looked up the stairs. The huge creature, once Mr. Naughton, walked on all fours, thick, viscous drool dripped from its powerful jaws. He watched in disbelief as it began to descend the stairs. Halfway down them, it lunged. Nobody would hear Jackson Lambert's screams as he was torn apart and consumed by the beast. Nobody would miss the man who could only be contacted through the friend of a friend of a friend. Dorothy Naughton loved her husband very much, and despite his illness that kept her away on nights when the moon was full, she always made sure that he had plenty to eat.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bieqe/the_loving_wife/

scarystories

DungeonMarshal

Skeletal Dreams

I bought the cheap piece of shit to make everyone happy. My wife had always loved Halloween and I guess she instilled that into our daughters. They were sitting in the cart, it felt like we had been at the department store for hours. As soon as we rounded the corner and saw the Halloween decorations the girls began to squeal and jump around “daddy, daddy, DADDY, can we have it?” I groaned and looked up. I saw a man at the other end of the aisle, in a similar situation, his son was pulling all of the costumes off the shelf and begging.We smiled at each other. It was our subtle way of communicating ‘shoot me now’. We had to get out of here. My head was killing me, so I gave in. We loaded the 8-foot skeleton in the cart. We got to the register and of course there was an issue. I tapped my foot impatiently and began to rub my head. The cashier was sympathetic. She apologized “Sir, I’m so sorry, it’s just that it doesn’t have a tag and I haven’t seen it around here before”. The line behind me was backing up. She took pity on me.“Ya know what, let’s just call it $19.99, alright?” She said as she looked down at my wild children in the cart and winked at me.“Perfect” I replied. We got it home. This thing was unwieldy and huge. I couldn’t get it to stand up straight. The kids didn’t want to help. Daddy could do it, of course he could. God, I hate Halloween. I propped it up in the entryway and backed away to take a good look at it. It was creepier than I remembered. Something about the eyes, and the mouth.Oh well, the job was done. The kids were happy. I was going to bed. I woke up at 4am to a loud crash. Startled, I sat up in the bed and turned the on the bedside lamp. I didn’t see anything, so I walked into the living room. Goddammit the skeleton had fallen to the ground. I turned on the entry light and went to prop it up again but as I moved its head into position the eye sockets glowed red. WHAT THE FUCK? I backed up a bit and the head fell over on me. I took a deep breath and stood it up again. Nothing, normal. Man, I have to get away for a while. Stacey will understand, she has to. October just isn’t for me. The skeleton was secured. It wasn’t coming loose this time. I used duct tape and fishing wire. The kids woke up, ate breakfast, played with the skeleton arms and laughed, and then hopped the bus. The next night it was storming and I tossed and turned trying to get to sleep. I finally pulled the pillow over my head and passed out. I had a nightmare. The most terrifying one I’ve ever had. I don’t have nightmares. Not before this... I dreamed that the skeleton came loose and it was standing over the bed. I couldn’t move. I wanted to sit up, to scream, to swat at it. But I was frozen in place. Only my eyes could move. I woke up covered in sweat. “What the fuck was that?” I wanted to wake Stacey and tell her but I looked at the clock, it was 11am. She must have gotten the kids ready for school and left without waking me.The first thing I did was go straight to the skeleton. I knew it was a dream but I had to see for sure. It was tied up tight, just as it had been the night before. No glow in the eye. I kicked at it, no change. Then I bent in a bit closer. It looked like the tape had been cut and then pushed back together. Huh? I needed some coffee, and I had a massive headache. The next few days went by uneventfully. I started to feel like my old self again. But every time I looked at that skeleton I shuddered. I left for a solo camping trip on the 26th. On the way out the door I hesitated. I dropped the camping gear outside and went back in for one more look at the skeleton. It was as it had always been. Maybe I was the one who tore the duct tape when I was propping it up initially. I chuckled at the dream I’d had. Stacey ran outside with a 6-pack and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I told her I’d be back on November 1st. It happened on Saturday, October 30. I wasn’t there for my wife. I wasn’t there for my children. I got the call from the police. I rushed home. It was too late. They were found mutilated, in the bed, the three of them together. The police said it looked like they had settled in to watch a horror movie for the night and fell asleep. Someone must have broken in. I was numb. This just wasn’t real. I wailed and crumpled down to the floor. There, on the floor, I was eye to eye with the skeleton. I looked into its eyes and I didn’t see anything. Just the cheap black paint to darken the eye sockets. “You shouldn’t be alone tonight; do you have anyone we can call? Anyone you can stay with?”“NO, no, no…I want to stay here. I have to stay here” I said as they carried the bodies out of the house. The policeman had another call, he had to leave. I was alone. The room was closed off. I opened up the pill cabinet and took a triple dose of my sleeping medication, I didn’t know if I would wake up or not. I didn’t care. This was a dream. It had to be a dream. Sweat. Fear. I saw the skeleton. I saw myself leaving the house. I tried to shout, to get my own attention, to stop me from leaving for that fatal trip. Immediately, my eyes were locked on the skeleton. I saw its bony fingers grow sharp and cut the ties that bind it. I followed it into the bedroom. The bedroom where my babies were sleeping. And Stacey was there, she had fallen asleep with her arms around the girls. I felt something pass through me. It was the skeleton. It walked up to the bed. It stroked the girls’ hair with it’s talons. I lunged forward and shouted ‘NOOOO’. Nothing, I couldn’t do anything at all. It WAS a dream. I screamed as loud as I could but I couldn’t stop it. The skeleton bent over slowly. The jaw unhinged. A mouth full of unnatural teeth appeared. Sharp and jagged. Before it bit into her it looked at me, it smiled with that horrifying smile. It devoured her. Crunching the bones. Swallowing the body whole. Growing more invigorated from the screams and the cries. It was strong, preternaturally so. I saw the teeth grow larger. Like knives they extended from the bone. It slashed and slashed. Stacey was screaming. Suddenly I woke up, this time in a panic. I ran, tripping over the coffee table, to the bedroom. I pushed through the caution tape to the bedroom. They were coming to clean up the blood tomorrow, I didn’t care. I went straight to the skeleton and I jerked it up. At first nothing happened. It had the same dead-eyed stare and black paint in the eye sockets. I shook it a bit and wailed. I began to beat its head against the wall and that’s when I saw it. That sickening smile. The teeth grew, the jaw cracked open. There was blood on it, everywhere. It snapped at me and I jumped back. But it wasn’t there to hurt me. It was there to taunt me. To leave me with the memory of the last moments of my screaming wife and children. A knock on the door jolted me. I answered. It was the police.“Listen, Mister, we know this has been hard for you, but we just a have a few questions. Standard questions, nothing out of the ordinary. You see, it’s just not looking like anyone could have broken in, ya know? The windows and the doors were sealed. Where did you say you were again, on the night of October 31th?”

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bz4k9/skeletal_dreams/

scarystories

Brookycrisp

Booth 21

Ban, an employee at Metro Courier in Ikeshima, received a task to investigate a growing urban legend. Ban was reluctant, considering that the subject topic was not normally something they would write about. ​ After interviewing people, Ban looked over their responses. Which revealed there was not a consistent story. Suggesting they may have made up their own versions of what happened. B decided they would do their research at the library. ​ At the library, Ban walked to the front to talk to an attendant named Kouta. ​ “Excuse me?” Ban spoke softly not to disturb the people around them getting the attention of the attendant Kouta. ​ “How may I help you?” Kouta smiles, turning to face Ban. ​ “I’ve asked around, but I’m still unsure…Do you know anything about Booth 21?” Ban asked, taking out a notepad and pencil from their pocket. ​ “Ah, that urban legend.” Kouta’s smile faded, and he looked around to see if there was anyone listening before he softly added, “You should stay away from there.” ​ Is Booth 21 cursed? ​ “Then do you know a story about it?” Ban asked. ​ Kouta was silent for a moment and beckoned Ban to come closer, telling them about the urban legend of Booth 21. ​ In 1999, three friends called Toki, Jun, and Ousei, who were high school students. They would always hang around Kino residential area after school. They often dared each other to hide in the Booth 21 and scare random people who would walk by. One boy would hide inside while the other two would hide out of sight and record a video using their cellphone of the person being scared. ​ Jun and Ousei watched as Toki waited inside Booth 21 and when the door was opened, he would jump out and scare them. The man who was approaching is a locally known thug made his way to the booth to make a call. ​ When he threw open the door, he let out a noise of disgust. “What kind of prank is this?” Looking around, he spotted Jun and Ousei. “Hey! Did you two do this?” What the thug had seen was a puddle of blood and a bloodied handprint on the inside window of the booth. ​ Both boys froze and looked at each other before running away, scared that the thug would beat them up. Leaving without checking to see if Toki was okay. ​ “If what you’re saying is true, then the booth itself is an entity,” said Ban jotting down notes in a notepad. ​ “If I had to agree with any of the stories that has been told it would have to be this one,” replied Kouta. ​ “Did they ever find Toki?” asked Ban, watching Kouta’s face become grim. ​ Kouta shook his head. “No, they never found him, but the blood was his.” ​ Ban shivered at the thought of Toki being spirited away without a trace. Thanking him for his time, Ban turned to leave. “Stay away from Booth 21,” he warned. Ban agreed to stay away from Booth 21. ​ With what little information they had, it would not be enough to present as a decent article. ​ The next stop would be the Kino district, where the fabled phone booth is located. With the sun beginning to set, casting dark shadows over the tall buildings of Ikeshima, it would set the mood for their investigation. ​ The phone booth seemed normal, but had chipped paint and old police caution tape wrapped around it. The only thing that looked to be intact was the privacy film on the inside. Ban slowly reached out and opened the door to look inside. The old overhead light flickered to life, and the smell of old blood invaded Ban’s nostrils, causing them to take a step back to cover their mouth and nose. ​ Stepping inside, the doors closed behind as they looked around in the cramped space that the phone booth offered. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until Ban looked up and noticed there were lots of talismans taped to the ceiling. Except for one that was torn off. Did Toki peel it off or had it been someone else? A shaman must have placed these here to keep the entity sealed. ​ Taking out their cellphone, Ban began taking pictures of the inside. The call box phone rang, startling them from their task. Looking at it, they wondered if they should answer it or not, since something was telling them not to. Reaching out, they picked it up, putting the receiver to their ear. ​ “Hello?” Ban answered, their voice wavering. ​ “HeLp…Me…HeLp…Me” the voice was raspy and spoke in a soft whisper. ​ “Who is this? How Can I help you?” Ban pressed, trying to get an answer. ​ The call ended with a click, and the dial tone beeped as if the line was busy. Ban tried pressing the buttons and listening to the receiver again, but it still sounded busy, so they hung it up. A soft creak rocked the phone box, causing Ban to stumble in place and when they looked up, they saw it. The very thing that had been spiriting away all the people who stepped into Booth 21. A pale face of a young man a little younger than Ban reached out his long-clawed fingers grasping them by the shoulder. ​ “HeLp…Me…HeLp Me,” he whispered, gripping Ban by the shoulder before yanking them up into the ceiling of the call box. Leaving behind a splash of blood with their cellphone camera still on, showing a pulsating ceiling above dripping small droplets of red. ​ When Metro Courier noticed Ban had not been to work in a few days, they called their family to find out what was wrong. They were told that Ban had gone missing. When searching, the police only found Ban’s blood cellphone inside Booth 21 in the Kino district. ​ The urban legend was true, and it cost them a life.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bz8x0/booth_21/

scarystories

GrimmInDarkness

The boy with eyes of darkness

My name is Sarah, and I lived in a cozy little house at the end of Elm Street. I'd spent weeks meticulously planning my costume and decorating the front yard to spook the neighborhood kids. As the sun dipped below the horizon, I donned my wicked witch outfit, complete with a gnarled broomstick, and headed outside. The streets were buzzing with children dressed as monsters and superheroes, their laughter echoing through the crisp autumn air. The scent of candy and popcorn wafted from every corner. As I handed out treats, I couldn't help but get lost in the nostalgia of my own childhood Halloweens. Around 9 p.m., the sky was dark, and the once-bustling streets had grown quieter. Most of the trick-or-treaters had returned home, their bags filled with sugary treasures. But a few stragglers remained, and that's when I noticed him—a boy of about ten, dressed in tattered rags and a mask that looked like a demon's face. He approached my doorstep, saying nothing, only extending his candy bag toward me. Pity welled up in me as I thought about how late he must have been out. I dropped a few candies into his bag and wished him a happy Halloween. That's when I saw his eyes, deep pools of darkness that seemed to absorb all light. They sent a shiver down my spine, but I dismissed it as a trick of the costume. The boy silently shuffled away into the night, leaving me feeling uneasy. I went back inside my house, locking the door behind me. The flickering candles and spooky decorations in my living room no longer seemed inviting. There was something unsettling about the encounter, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I had just met someone... otherworldly. An hour passed, and I decided to turn in for the night. As I climbed into bed, I tried to shake off the unease and convince myself it was just Halloween jitters. But just as I closed my eyes, I heard a faint scratching sound outside my window. It was subtle, like the soft tap of long, bony fingers on the glass. I sat up and strained my ears. The scratching continued, growing more insistent. Fear gripped me as I approached the window, drawing back the curtain. There, outside, stood the same boy, his mask pressed against the glass. Those impossibly dark eyes stared into my soul, sending chills down my spine. I stumbled back from the window, my heart racing. This had to be some sort of prank, I told myself, even though the unease in the pit of my stomach told me otherwise. I considered calling the police, but what would I tell them? A boy in a costume was scaring me? The scratching continued, now accompanied by whispers that slithered through the night like serpents. I couldn't make out the words, but they seemed to beckon me closer. Against my better judgment, I approached the window again, my heart pounding. The boy's voice, soft and melodic, finally reached my ears. "Come with me, Sarah," he whispered, his lips concealed by the mask. "Come with me, and you'll see wonders beyond your wildest dreams." I should have been terrified, but something about his voice held a strange allure. It was as if he knew a secret, a forbidden truth that beckoned me closer. My hand reached for the latch of the window, and I felt an almost magnetic pull, urging me to open it and step outside. But then I remembered what my grandmother used to say: "Never make deals with the creatures of the night, for their promises are laced with darkness." I knew I couldn't go with this enigmatic boy, no matter how tempting his words were. Summoning all my courage, I slammed the window shut and locked it. The boy outside let out an eerie, high-pitched wail, and his presence vanished, as if he had never been there at all. I sank to the floor, my heart still racing, realizing the danger I had narrowly escaped. The rest of the night passed in restless dread, the whispers and scratching only serving as a reminder of what could have been.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bu756/the_boy_with_eyes_of_darkness/

scarystories

Commercial_Book_242

My friend’s experiences

I wanna tell her stories because I think everyone should hear how wacky they are. I’ll tell two stories in this thread because they’re pretty short. My friends family is religious (I’ll call her Beth). At some point, Beth’s family became so busy with life that they had no time to attend church. After this, weird things started happening. First, Beth’s sisters room was downstairs and she would always run down and slam on her door to freak her out. Her sister was in her own room one day, when she heard Beth running down the stairs, knocking on her door and say “zozo!” And then run back up. Beth’s sister angrily ran upstairs and confront Beth, but she was on the second floor in her own bedroom, not having moved. Beth never did that, especially because she was terrified to even say the name “zozo”. After that, other small things would happen. On the floor of Beth’s room, there was a bathroom with no lock. To make sure nobody came in, they’d pull out this drawer that made it so you couldn’t even open the bathroom door an inch. The bathroom door started to LOCK ITSELF. The only way you could pull out that old raggedy drawer was by yanking on it from inside the washroom, and the only window was on the top of the roof, so you couldn’t lock it and then jump out. It locked itself so many times that Beth’s mom had to literally lock the drawer itself into the shelf. After the attended church again, all these weird things stopped happening. She has so many more stories but I don’t remember them all. Let me know if you wanna hear more from her.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bqjy6/my_friends_experiences/

scarystories

FailureTM

VICTIM 30 (Spin-off 2)

This is the second spin-off of VICTIM 1 and the sequel to VICTIM 26. Anyways on to the story. ​ I am Gavin Walker I am 25 I am also a recent graduate with an engineer's degree. ​ Entry 1: NEW START ​ August 10, 2013 ​ I get up and get dressed then I go to the bathroom to wash my face and do my hair. I go to the living room to watch tv as I eat breakfast and wait till it's time to work. The clock reaches 12:30 in the afternoon I head outside to my car I start it and start driving to work. I then realize that it was hard to steer my car and I was slower than usual, so I pull over to see that my tires have been slashed so I ask to get it towed and ask for a taxi. ​ I arrive to work late, and I get egged on by my boss. "What the hell are you doing this late?" My boss said with a slight attitude in his voice "I'm sorry Bill, someone thought it was funny to slash my tires." I say sincerely. "Yeah, yeah now get in there and make me some money." Bill said with even more attitude. I work until 8:30 and I get home beat. ​ I go to the living room to watch tv, as I'm doing so the tv flickers and all I see is a hooded black silhouette with static as the background noise and the background itself is just white with no discoloration. all I hear before my tv flickers off is "VICTIM 30 Gavin Walker." The tv flickers and shuts off. I head to bed confused. "What the hell was that... er Who was that?" I had trouble but I eventually fell asleep. ​ Entry 2: AS THE GEARS TURN ​ August 11, 2013 ​ I wake up to my alarm beeping loudly, so I go to the kitchen to watch tv I see a report of someone being asphyxiation. They couldn't find a trace of the subject, and this happened at the local gas station alley. The clock struck 12:30 so I go to work I take a taxi and arrive on time this time, there was something unusual. my boss didn't come out to yell at me for heinous reasons. ​ I go to the garage, and I see something horrifying. My bosses head was caved in with blood all over the walls as Bill was laying on a wall, I look next to him to find a bloodied wrench. I call the police and they arrive 15 minutes later. disturbed I arrive home and sit down to think. ​ After thinking I go to bed happy, I don't have to work but traumatized because of what happened to my boss. ​ Entry 3: CALENDAR MARKED ​ August 12, 2013 ​ I wake up to someone standing over me it was still dark outside "HEY WHAT THE FU-" \*Mph\* I get something put over my face I kick and struggle but to no avail. I wake up on a bed, a bed with straps along different parts of my body. "HEY WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!'' I scream into the darkness. the only thing illuminating the room is a dim light hanging from the ceiling. ​ "Hush hush now you're here because you were chosen." A random voice from the darkness said "Ch-Chosen for what?" "We shall see..." I see a dark figure come from the darkness he grabs a machete. Then he starts violently hacking at my arm breaking bone as blood oozed from the wound "AHhhHHH PLEASE STOP! WHAT DID I DO?!" My arm comes off as skin stretched and broke. "Now the other one." The mysterious man continued. Once more he starts hacking off my other arm. I fainted and it's dark. Did I die? ​ I can't see but I can hear a confrontation "DROP YOUR WEAPON NOW!" "Sir I'm doing this world a favor." "HEY BACK UP SIR, DROP YOUR WEAPON!" \*POP\* \*POP\* \*POP\* I hear gunshots "Shots fired. I repeat shots fired, suspect dead 6'4 male with a large build. The suspect is Arron Parker." I pass out again. ​ I wake up and I cannot see but I can hear and breath. "Status on Gavin?" "He's stable but he's in a coma now from the trauma." "I'm in a coma?" I think to myself "Please just put me out of my misery I've suffered enough." I go to sleep to get rest goodbye. ​ Note: This is the last story in the victim series, but I will write more stories dedicated to horror see you there. :)

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bzzyq/victim_30_spinoff_2/

scarystories

Itchy_Ebb3528

The road to New Wilderness [Part 19]

[\[Part 18\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17avfu7/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_18/) [\[Part 20\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17chv7g/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_20/) Several blocks further in, I squeezed into an overhang made from the collapsed front of a building and pulled the special plastic army canteen the pirates had given me from my belt. With a gas mask on, and the air poisoned by whatever chemical dump had been hit by the bombs, the only way I could drink was through a special tube that ran from the canteen adaptor to my mask, and my throat burned with a dryness that cried out for respite. Scanning my surroundings, I tilted the canteen back, and chugged through the straw inside my gas mask. *How big is this town? I could be here all day. Do they seriously expect me to find one tiny box on the first try?* I blew air back through the tube to keep the canteen from caving in and tried not to think about what I’d do once it got dark. The fog around me hung so thick, that at times I couldn’t see more than ten yards, and at other times, a breeze would shift it enough to see around a hundred at best. Fires churned from various pyres, former dwellings full of pine, drywall, insulation, and plastic going up in thick black smoke. The few sections of my skin that were exposed itched with the light ash that rained from the sky, and the water in my mouth tasted strong of plastic and chlorine. Everything gritted and crunched under my shoes, and more creatures screamed in the distance, the high shrieks of Puppets curling in my ears like worms. “They’re moving away.” I cocked my head to one side like I’d seen Chris do, mouth slightly agape to hear better, and whispered to myself in a bid to stay calm. “Which means they either lost my scent, or—” *Screech-thud. Screech-thud. Screech-thud.* Pebbles and bits of crumpled asphalt rattled on the ground beside me, and the vibrations rippled through my legs to flare inside my mind with alarm. With trembling fingers, I jammed the canteen back into my belt, and fumbled with the cloth flap to secure it in place. *Screech-thud.* My chest tightened, and I dove onto my belly to crawl beneath a fallen roof beam, squeezing like a bug deeper into the ruin. *Screech-thud.* Steel groaned right above me, metal slamming over and over into the melted tarmac with rapid beats, as thunderous feet skittered closer. I shoved my head and arms through a gap in the rubble, wriggling into total darkness, desperate to get out of the open. Like a mole, I burrowed into the debris, crawled against tight walls that rubbed my shoulders, and prayed for an opening somewhere. All it would take was one cave in, one drop-off into an old basement, one creature coming up the tunnel toward me, and I’d never make it out. *Wham.* The entire rubble pile shifted, as a massive steel I-beam impaled the dirt not ten feet in front of me, piercing the dark with soft gray light from the outside. Frozen in place, I could only watch as the leg withdrew, and held my breath. *Bwwwooonnnggg.* On the heels of the electro-synth foghorn blast, a gargantuan shadow passed over the hole, with eight long legs made of flash-rusted steel that stood as tall as a three-story building. Braided metal cables snaked up each one, leading to a long, spinal column like tangle of jumbled metal and greasy black sinews. A big round signal dish at the front swung back and forth like a head, with a ring of bright white lights around it that flickered with every strange sound the beast made. Beneath it, a single loudspeaker hung by both bolts, and an array of pulsating black tissue, as if whoever or whatever had made this thing couldn’t decide between it being a machine, or a living being. Thicker cables swayed just under the ‘head’ in the way I’d seen spider mandibles do, only there were dozens of them, each long enough to reach the ground if they extended to their full length. In a quick glance, one could easily have mistaken it for a walking radio tower. *If it makes one wrong step, I’ll be human jelly.* My lungs ached, but something caught my gaze beneath the mutant, something big and square grasped in its mass of cable-mandibles. A truck. The Humvee swung along, dented, charred, and broken in the grasp of the Echo Spider, all its tires flat, the bulletproof glass smeared from the heat of the missiles. I couldn’t see inside it for the soot on the glass, but I figured there couldn’t be a living soul left. After all, how long would someone last, trapped inside that thing with no food or water, the outside air poisoned, unable to escape after the bombs fell? Yet, the enormous insectoid being still carried it along, like a bird with a bundle of twigs in its beak, and that jarred something loose in my mind. *It's collecting metal.* Watching it go, my fear slipped away a little, and a timid curiosity took hold. The spider hadn’t seen me, or I’d be dead already. If it truly was collecting scrap, like the ones in the northern junkyard that had given our mechanics so much trouble, then maybe, just maybe, it had accidentally scooped up a small black box? My gut begged me to stay hidden in the claustrophobic burrow under the rubble, but in my mind, I knew there was only one way to find out for sure. As soon as the Echo Spider passed on to the next block, I clawed my way up through the hole its leg had made in the debris, and into the gray light of Collingswood. I could still see the huge creature from a distance, but it moved fast enough that I couldn’t wait, or the fog would swallow it up. Once I jerked myself free from the last desperate grasps of the broken wood and shattered cinderblock, I skidded down the heap to the street, and jogged after the beast. Had anyone told me a week ago that I would be chasing some giant mechanical spider through a ruined city, I would have laughed in their face. Now I fell into my jog, eyes switching back and forth between my quarry and the ruins around me, my snug home in Louisville the furthest thing from my mind. No doubt there were few creatures here big enough to challenge the Echo Spiders, so they didn’t care who or what they walked over, but I couldn’t be so careless. One wrong step, whether too close, or too far behind, and I could risk losing the mutant, or worse, running face-first into one of its steel legs. However, if I rounded the bend and found myself in the midst of more Puppets, or God-forbid, Birch Crawlers, I’d be dead in a heartbeat. Onward we went, the unsuspecting iron-bug and I, its feet screech-thumping, mine crunching over loose stones and charred wood. At block six, my lungs began to ache, and I remembered how little I’d had to eat since leaving the *Harper’s Vengeance*. Despite my water break earlier, dryness crept back into my throat, and a painful stitch cramped in my side. I had a harder and harder time keeping my footfalls soft on the wrinkled pavement, and almost turned my ankle in exhaustion three times. *Bwwwooonnnggg.* Bright white light slashed through the fog just in front of me, and I stumbled over my feet, skidding to a stop just inside a nearby doorway that hadn’t collapsed. My heart raced, and I poked my head out the moment the light slid by. *Oh, Hannah, what have you gotten yourself into?* As near as I could guess, the ruin across the street had once been a school, built from red brick, at least two stories tall. The bombs had smashed it’s upper floors like a Lego set under a bulldozer, with only the four corners of the building left standing, along with two rectangular concrete shafts in the center, likely for either stairs or an elevator system. Crumbled brick had been shoved to the outside of the building in a ring of orange-colored rocks, and the various holes, alcoves, and destroyed sections of the second story had been filled with all kinds of scrap metal. Bent sheet steel roofing, rusted iron streetlamps, and entire cars were jumbled together in a huge mound, everything held together by gooey strands of a strange black substance that looked eerily familiar. *Just like the Brain Shredder.* I swallowed to keep my stomach from rising in revulsion. Meat. The spiders were holding their nest in place with the same material that glued them together, long ebony tendrils of living, mutated flesh. In spite of the walls of goo, I could see them inside, four huge metal insects scuttling back and forth with clicks and chatters that sent shivers down my spine, and some of the swollen sections of black seemed to move on their own, like nightmarish pimples ready to burst with rot. Flattening myself back inside the doorway, I bit my lip to keep down a whimper, and shook my head at myself. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t go in there. After all, who was I kidding? I wasn’t some badass ranger; I was the skinny girl who got knocked out during gym class by a rouge football throw, and everyone had laughed. I was the quiet one who sat in the third row and watched Kelsey Dunmark get asked out by Robert McPhearson because I never worked up the courage to speak to Robert at all. I was the nameless kid who held the camera for Matt and Carla because thousands of subscribers would have found me too boring to watch instead. Almost everything that I’d survived so far had been by sheer dumb luck, not through skill or bravery. I couldn’t find the stupid box, not with all those spiders in there; it was impossible. Tears brimmed at my eyes as I slid to the ground, pulled my knees to my chest, and sniffled under my gas mask. *There’s nothing wrong with being scared.* Jamie’s voice called through my tangled thoughts in an encouraging whisper, her faith in me unwavering as it had been from the start. *Never assume they can’t be beaten.* Chris’s warm smile floated over my mind’s eye, and deep inside, a little flame ignited in my chest, a longing to see him again, a burning need, a pull like gravity. I blinked at my tears and took a deep breath. My legs stretched, the calves pushed me back onto my feet, and calm smoothed over my frazzled nerves. “Red lights and low voices.” With one finger, I switched off the safety on my Type-9. “That’s the name of the game.” Pushing the fear out of my head, I darted around the corner, and sprinted over the street to the school as fast as my legs could go. Black walls of living muscle reared in front of me, poisonous fog swirled around my feet, the mechanical chittering of the Echo Spiders filled my ears. My shoes skidded and crunched over the broken asphalt, and my heart roared. Any moment, the spiders would notice, and I’d hear the screech of their sirens as they bore down on me, the terrible white light from their heads blinding my eyes. They would rip me apart, suck out my guts, and string me up like a deer. Somehow, I reached the other side, and slowed to a halt beside one grimy, fire-blackened brick corner. *I made it. I actually made it. I didn’t think that would work.* Stunned, but still fueled by adrenaline, I swept my eyes over the mass of tendons that lined the gaps in the walls and caught sight of a spot dark from shadow instead of mutated flesh. At one time, it must have been some kind of corner office window, but the bombs had of course blown it out and scorched the interior. However, the black growth stretched thinner here, and with the dim red glow of my headlamp, I could make out a room with a door on the other side. Tendrils and things that looked like roots snaked across the burnt carpet. Other than that, it appeared . . . well . . . as ‘clean’ as anything could get around here. Gripping the edge of the window, I hoisted myself inside, careful to check each corner of the cramped space. A desk had been half-buried by falling debris to my right, and there were a few picture frames on the floor to my left, their glass shattered, the photographs burned away. The ceiling light hung halfway out of the powdery foam tiles around it, and more strange black tissue could be seen inside the ceiling cavity. My red headlight bathed the room in a bloody aura, and I shuddered at the sensation of both shoes smearing over greasy muscle strands on the floor, like stepping on sticky chunks of bicycle inner tubes. *Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it.* I cocked my head to one side, and tried to slow my breathing so I could listen better. Echo Spiders screech-thumped somewhere on the other side of the closed door with occasional chittering calls to one another, and a low slushing, squelching noise hummed in the background, reminding me of intestinal rumbles. Despite the gray light of the foggy exterior, everything inside seemed to be some shade of black or red in my headlight beam. Crossing to the door, I turned the knob with a dry, rusted *creak*, and poked my head into the expanse beyond. “Oh, great.” I muttered under my gas mask. The door opened into a semi-intact hallway on the first floor, blocked by a cave-in of cinder block and metal to my right, but the rest of it still open to my left. Dusty green metal lockers lined the white-painted walls on both sides, the low-slung ceiling covered in the same pepper-and-salt color ceiling tile as the office, with more extinguished fluorescent lights that would never work again. Vibrations from every step the massive spiders took nearby reverberated through the floor, and I realized the mound rested above me now, these old hallways more akin to tunnels in an ant hill than corridors where hordes of students had trudged to their next class. Still, much of it reminded me of my not-so-distant high school days, and it would have been nostalgic if not for a dense coat of slime that lay all over the tile floor, in a shade halfway between engine-grease brown and viscera purple. Spatters of it adorned the lockers and walls as well, with drag marks to show where something huge had slid over the muck in serpentine ease down the abandoned corridor. *I’ve got to find a way to their scrap piles. Maybe the slime trails lead to the nest? After all, following bloody mutant fluid never got anyone killed, right?* Ignoring my own glum thoughts, I tried to avoid the majority of the goo on the floor, but it was no use. Soon my boots were covered in the stuff, and I had to keep one hand on the wall of lockers to my right in order not to fall. Small bones were scattered in various places over the floor, and I did my best not to look at them, as many resembled fingers, toes, and a few splayed hands. These crunched under my shoes, adding a sickening counter-effect to the squish-squish of the grease, and tickles of nausea threatened to resurge in my gut. I reached an intersection, and in the dark corridor to my right, something gurgled. Turning my head, I bit my tongue beneath the mask, and stifled a scream. Suspended in sticky folds of ebony ligaments, outstretched figures hung from the walls, lining both sides of the dilapidated hall like trophies in a hunter’s cabin. Some were completely covered in a horrific cocoon of veiny gray membrane, while others were merely secured by their four limbs in a spread-eagle position. None of them moved, but from the way they twitched, chest’s rising and falling in spasmodic jerks of involuntary respiration, left me with no doubt. *They’re still alive.* Most of them were Puppets, with mottled skin, white eyes wide open in frozen shock, knobby wooden teeth gaped in a muted scream of agony. But there were a few bodies that had pale, pinkish skin, wore more normal clothing, and even had some equipment on them. Gray-uniformed ELSAR soldiers, T-shirt wearing civilians, a few younger figures dressed as pirates, and toward the end of the hall, one or two captives adorned in ragged black polo shirts, all hung with silent despair for the entities that were wrapped around their torsos. They looked like slugs, woven from black sinews, and clutching to the ribs of each body with little nubby spines on their fat bellies. Each slug had its head buried into the flesh of its host, and it wriggled with greedy gulps, the entire length of the creature spasming as mouthfuls of blood slid down its gullet. Some were the size of a knapsack, and these were the ones wrapped like snakes around the more exposed people, while the others were so big, they had begun to form a cocoon of grayish-black flesh around themselves, their victims hollowed out like a dry corn husk. In the dim glow of my headlamp, the worms gleamed from the mucous that covered them, a single long spike on the tips of each one’s tail like a scorpion, and a chorus of gurgles spilled from their maws as they drained the life from each poor body. Mortified, I went to take a step back, and my shoe pressed down on an especially fat tendon buried in the slimy floor. *Squelch.* All the gurgles stopped, and somewhere overhead, the screech-thudding of the spiders paused, as if they too could sense the presence of an unwanted guest. I held my breath under the mask, too terrified to move. *That’s not good.* From deep within the mass of tortured corpses, a gray pod split, gushing fluid onto the floor, and an avalanche of black muscle tumbled out. It writhed for a few moments, and one end of the mass rose, big as a car engine, the entire length of the creature enough to stretch half of the corridor. Eight concave holes in the now smooth body twitched, as if to move legs it didn’t have yet, and the cavern of various pits in the ‘head’ sucked air like a vacuum cleaner. It swayed back and forth, tasting the air, and my mind reeled. This was why they needed the metal. The spiders were laying eggs . . . and their babies couldn’t walk, see, or call to each other without fresh scrap. *Sloosh.* In a spasmic, knee-jerk style reaction, the enormous Echo Pupae slid down the hall toward me, slithering in between the mass of hanging bodies and fellow larva, intent on making its first live kill.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bo3pa/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_19/

scarystories

RandomAppalachian468

A Regular Morning

I awoke to the sound of my wife calling me from the living room. “Babe? Come here. I want you to see this.” As I rolled out of bed I found a hand grasp at my wrist. It was my wife. With tears in her eyes she whispered “don’t go out there!”

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bzlsp/a_regular_morning/

scarystories

LorneBronstein

The little girl

It was a peaceful night, I was on the sofa witching JacksePticeye on YoU Tubee After a while I Started to get hungty.It was amost 2am when I decided to StoP watching you tube. When I sat'up I suddenly heard little feet coming down the Stairs,I sighed as soon as I saw is was the little girl I was babysitting She came up to me with the door of distress and spoke with a shakky Voice " can hear someone breathing in my room "She said, I look at her a little irritated, "It's Probably your own breathing, now let's get yor back to bed" I Say with a sighas | Pick her UP walking ta her room. I will admit, the life-sized clown in her room is quite unseltling but the Parents reasured me that It's a real statue and not a creep hiding in Plane sight. I tucked the little girl in bed and she spoke "do you hear that breathing? " her voice is still shacky. I was surprised that I did indeed hear breathing sounds from under her bed but I remained calm and spoke with a soft Voice "It's Probably one of your furbies She started to look more calm "Will you check for me?" she asked, her voice less shacky. I give her a soft smile "sure kid "I Say befor bending down and looking under the bed. there laid an identical copy of the little girl but She looked terrified, she whispered to me "natalie... there's someone in my bed"

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bgzxy/the_little_girl/

scarystories

LillyWolfie5677

Ouija Board playing went wrong

A few years ago my mum bought me a ouija board and I instantly started playing with it. I know about the whole “don’t play alone” rule but I wanted something fun to happen so I played by myself séance style. A couple tries into it and I encountered a woman named Dowse. After a while I discovered she had lived in the area my house was before it was built, which was around 1960. She said she had 8 children and never brought up her husband. She said all her children died from a disease, as well as her. Eventually after she told me this, I took a break from the board for a couple days. Once I began to use it again, I asked “is Dowse here?” And the board would say “no”, then I’d ask “well who am I talking to” and the board would say “ZOZO” and I knew that the name belonged to a demon so I was freaked out. Now, every single time I go to use the board, it only goes to “ZOZO” no matter what I ask it, even after years. Now I don’t entirely know if the board is real or if it’s my subconscious but still, either I’m screwed up or the board is, so take this story as you will. Thanks for reading one of my many wacky experiences <3

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bq4cj/ouija_board_playing_went_wrong/

scarystories

FailureTM

My new job requires me to work from 7pm to 7am. But every midnight, my task is to hide in a special room. Part 9

[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/16kmrnu/my_new_job_requires_me_to_work_from_7pm_to_7am/) [Part 8](https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/1784liz/my_new_job_requires_me_to_work_from_7pm_to_7am/) I went back to work. I went back to that place. My kids are still in the hospital, my wife is still in distress, and I am still gangrened by the mere fact of being linked to that company. No sanctions whatsoever against me, even after abandoning my position for one good week. You know, it is as if they know that the job in itself is already a worthy punishment. I will sure get the money once again, and yes it will be useful, but the things I witnessed this week... Before I continue with this post, I would like to thank all those who took the time to suggest ideas and tips for me to escape this mess, no matter the tone used. I also thank all those who could not provide any advice, but at least wished my family and I well. Thank you very much all of you. On Monday, once again, but not in the same mood as the previous times, I had to wear the uniform. The gloves are still missing, but of course, this is not the most important at the moment. I do not even know what is that uniform, especially with what it displayed last time. Is it alive? Is it also an entity all by itself just like the figures on the walls of the black room? I wore the black clothes, feeling like I was wearing death, and trembling to the core. Despite me having the uniform on, my wife refused to stay alone at home and preferred to be at the hospital, where she also knows that loadshedding is not allowed. Upon arrival at the facility, I noticed that the motorcycle guy or my new colleague, who we will call Dylan for the sake of the story, is the only person who openly shows anger concerning my return to work. Fed up with his nonsense, I confronted him about the reasons of his hatred, but everything that came out of his mouth was garbage I cannot include in this post just to avoid it being removed by you know who. Before leaving, he promised me to engineer my dismissal all by himself. I refrained to tell him that he was my guest. For the most part of the evening, I found myself visiting the black room, building up the courage to use my flashlight in UV mode to see what could go wrong but I failed to do so before 10 pm. I then tried the UV mode outside of the black room after switching the lights off, and I was baffled by a spectacle that shocked me but at the same time did not surprise me. The patterns were there, and I could not tell if they emerged from the black room or if they instead converged towards it. Even the transparent patterns on my uniform were then shining in red when I directed the light towards me. Those patterns were everywhere in the company, in the kitchen, in the restrooms, at the entrance, everywhere. However, there was not even one drawn figure like those in the black room, but there were more of those small black invisible doors. Behind one of them, I could hear voices, like several people calmly discussing something important, almost like a professional meeting but I could not find the courage to open that door. Instead, I went back to the black room, and found the courage to use the UV mode there at 11:34 pm. I could see the patterns and the small black door, but the figures were not there and the monitors did not turn to tribal masks. I left the UV mode on and waited for midnight. As soon as it was 12:00 am, someone behind the invisible small door spoke. I just blinked, and the monitors changed to the tribal masks, and the figures made their appearances on the walls, floor and ceiling. I froze, expecting them to move like last time but they did not. The voice behind the small door next to the cupboard continued, repeating the same words over and over like a recording. I could only understand the first word when I approached which was 'identify'. Was it a machine? I almost vomited my heart when the entity started banging on the black room main entrance. I deactivated the UV mode and the entity started laughing hysterically while still banging on the main entrance, promising my family and I death that nobody has experienced before. It remained there, and I also stayed still, listening to everything until it all stopped at 01:00 am. The next day, I went to the library hoping to find anything that could help. I do not have any picture, any video or any other evidence, except for my uniform, my contract and the name of the entity. I did not know how I could explain the situation without being labeled as a crazy person so I tried asking the librarian I spoke to about any resources concerning the entity. The moment I mentioned its name, she looked at me as if I insulted her and asked me to get out. I tried to appease the situation but she screamed for the security and just like that, I was outside. Later, fortunately, I did not see my day shift counterpart when I arrived at the facility. Soon, I found myself completely alone in the building once again and managed to ask myself some very interesting questions: who guards the place at night when I do not work on Wednesday and the Weekend? Who did in the previous week during which I did not work? Unfortunately, when I tried to get answers to those questions through the corresponding camera recordings, I noticed that the relevant footages were missing. As a result, I went through the normal routine until I found myself facing one of the worst situations so far. At 11:41 pm, I heard four loud bangs coming from the storage area while I was busy making coffee in the kitchen. Confident that this was not yet the time for the spooky show, I made sure to do my job correctly, finding the courage to investigate the noises. Going to the storage area with only the radio, I could not see anyone or anything suspicious. I then heard two loud bangs coming from the entrance, and I also went to verify but did not see anything until a figure emerged from behind the circular reception counter. His identity concealed by his horrifying clown mask, the intruder soon presented his machete before he jumped over the desk to give pursuit. Chased by the intruder, I stormed towards the black room and won the race, locking the black room door before he could catch up. He banged on the door for just a few seconds before he sped off, going back to the storage area. When I wanted to use the radio to notify the authorities, I immediately noticed the static sound. It was midnight. For the first time, the entity had started its reign of terror right in front of the black room door instead of the reception area, then it set itself in motion. The intruder was busy using his weapon to break open some of the storage units doors, oblivious to the threat coming its way. Many people cannot help themselves, seizing any opportunity to criticize me for breaking the rules. However, I will never regret doing something wrong like breaking a 'rule' if it is for something right like saving a fellow human being's life. Breaking the no-communication rule, I used the black room microphone to tell him to run away for his life. He did not take me seriously at first until he heard something from the entity that made him flee. From the monitors and the distortions, I could see the entity do things I never saw it do before, like disappearing and reappearing at seemingly random places. It left in its trails new images on the monitors as I could no longer recognize some parts of the building. The screen showing the entrance for example was then showing a wall. I then heard the entity using my voice and the speakers of the building to direct the intruder back to the black room. I tried to counter its trick to no avail and noticed the entity standing still behind the black room door, while the intruder was running towards a certain death. The man turned and saw the entity on the spot. He made small steps backwards, dropping his machete before removing his mask. I saw his face dressed in terror but I did not recognize him. He then lifted his hand as if he was pointing at the entity and screamed like I never heard a man scream before. He ended up on the floor, convulsing, while the entity did not move by an inch, the monitor showing the black room door still affected by the distortion. The intruder stopped moving at some point, and the entity remained at the door, still and silent, until it quietly spoke at 12:59 am: "You—are—next." At 01:01 am, I exited the black room and approached the intruder. He was dead, with tears in his eyes and foam in his mouth, after overdosing on a pure and sheer concentration of a basic human emotion: fear. I was right about avoiding to take a look at that thing, and after what happened at the library, I think I was right about avoiding mentioning its name in this post or anywhere else. Out of nowhere, my supervisor showed up minutes later, not surprised about the dead man lying on the floor and even asked me to help him with loading the body in his car. I refused to help him and he just responded by shaking his head and chuckling, before he dragged the body away to my absolute disbelief. He then came back and warned me not to do anything stupid until we have another meeting soon and left, commanding me to continue working. Madness. Complete madness. He phoned me later, congratulating me for my 'hard work' and telling me that the company was so happy that the higher-ups had another surprise gift for me, only available when I come back to work on Thursday. However, I think I received a surprise gift already, in the form of a direct message. There are many messages with people asking me to give them permission to narrate this series of posts on their channels. Good people, I am not ignoring you, but understand that at this moment, my family and I are going through serious and life-threatening stuff. Please let this series and all this madness be over first, then we will discuss about permission. For now, our lives are in serious danger. The surprise gift I am talking about is the only direct message about a man named Connor who wants to meet and help me and my family. He says he has been through a similar situation and has warned me not to approach any police car during midnight, especially if the officer inside is alone. It could be the enforcer.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bcmw7/my_new_job_requires_me_to_work_from_7pm_to_7am/

scarystories

AngelmZeal1

The Children Eater is Coming

🌙👹 The Children Eater is Coming! Are You Ready for the Nightmare? 👻📺 Hey there, horror fans! We've got spine-tingling news for you. The Children Eater is making its way to YouTube, and you won't want to miss this bone-chilling experience. 😱 Here's how YOU can get involved and help us build excitement: 1️⃣ Share this post with your fellow horror enthusiasts. 2️⃣ Comment below with your thoughts and predictions about the video – let's hear your wildest theories! 3️⃣ Tag a friend who loves a good scare because they'll thank you for this recommendation. 😈 Get ready to dive into a world of terror, suspense, and supernatural horror. The Children Eater is a story that will haunt your dreams. Stay tuned for the release date, and let's get those discussions and speculations going! 🔥🕵️‍♀️💬 #ChildrenEater #YouTubeHorror #PrepareToScream [https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCBLt2WMOSrZAGYwbiF5qD\_Q](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCBLt2WMOSrZAGYwbiF5qD_Q) subscribe Don't miss out

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17briyq/the_children_eater_is_coming/

scarystories

kraftySolutions

In my head

Growing up I’d always have those “corner of your eye” hallucinations. I remember I was staying in my brothers room while mine was being renovated and I was sat on the bed, alone in my house. From the corner of my eye I saw a little girl walk by the doorway. She was pale and was wearing a gown with long, dark hair. It freaked me out but I brushed it off. I’ve had more small instances like this, but they’ve gotten worse. I’m not saying it’s paranormal but it’s terrifying because I’m still seeing them nonetheless. I have hallucinations now. This one is kinda funny now, but it was really scary in the moment. Before I went to bed one night, the room was pretty dark but I could make out Will Byers in the corner of my room with his stupid bowl cut, striped shirt and baggy jeans. He was staring lifelessly at me. It’s so funny and random but it was terrifying in the moment. Just wanna express that not all scary stories are paranormal, some are just really weird mental experiences regarding mental health disorders. A scary experience is still a scary experience.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bq8z2/in_my_head/

scarystories

FailureTM

Horror reactions

Yo guys I’m starting to get a lil buzz on my YouTube and Tik Tok I was wondering if you guys could do me a favor and recommend some good horror stories or short films I could react to. Thanks much appreciateddd!

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17botpi/horror_reactions/

scarystories

SnooDoggos2601

She still screams

Sundays always seemed boring to me so usually when it comes around I'd make a plan to do something like take a walk, catch a movie I been wanting to see or just hang out with a friend. One particular Sunday kind of changed all that for every Sunday ahead of me for the rest of my life. I got a call a week prior to by my mother, asking me to help her pack up and move, of course I said yes and brough my buddy Calvin with me who would do anything for my mom's cooking and that just happened to be the agreed payment. We took her belongings from one place to another, couches, a bed and several other boxes with miscellaneous junk she didn't want to throw away, sentimental value stuff. Her new house was nicer than the one she just left and this one was more fuller, three upstairs bedrooms with a lot of space for her work and art room, full appliances, wide two door garage and a basement that stretched out to the entirety of the house size and much more it looked like, the basement looked like it dug right under the back yard so that was cool, strong foundations with florescent lights all along which gave it almost like a wide office space, with the lights off was creepy looking I'll admit but still cool. A week later after she had unpacked all her things, she invited me and bud Calvin back for that promised supper on a Sunday evening, she made a good spread of food which me and Calvin couldn't resist and of course we ate it all up. After relaxing we had some drinks and sat back watching wrestling on the tv as mom would cheer on her favorite wrestlers, I suddenly had the feeling of a cold draft brush by the neck which made my hairs stand on end which was followed by what felt like nails being lightly dragged across my skin, I immediately jumped up as mom and Calvin looked at me strange and asked me what was wrong. I told them what had happened and mom just suddenly told me she felt the same thing for the past few days and thought it was nothing but now that I had felt it, she knew she wasn't going crazy. I walked around the house for a few minutes thinking someone maybe left a door open or a window with some bug flying by but that wasn't the case at all. I checked all the rooms and garage leaving the basement the last of all places which was still empty, I opened the door and slowly began to walk down the stairs as Calvin turned on the lights watching me from the top, I take a quick peek around and didn't see a thing... Until I seen what looked like a person hiding behind where the water tank and fuse box would be, I froze up as I seen a dark figure of a person's head peek at me and from out of no where, a loud piercing female scream echoing from the corner and this dark figure flew at my direction which prompted me to jump back and run up the stairs in a frantic panic, mom standing behind Calvin as he tried to close the door on me out of fear reflex and I used all my body weight to tackle it back open and I quickly shut the door. I stood with my back against the wall as mom covered her mouth from the shock and Calvin breathing heavily like a scared house wife. We stood there in silence knowing they heard the scream as clear as I did and suddenly there was the sound of someone running up the basement stairs and slamming up against the door, we all jumped back and stood in the living room as we all watched the doorknob shaking and what sounded like kicks against the door followed by more screaming. The vibration of the banging could be felt from where we were standing even as I told my mother pack up a few bags quickly cause she's staying with me for awhile. The banging and running up those stairs proceeded even as we left the front door and locked it, the screaming could still be heard from the outside which chilled us to the bone, my mom asked if I had seen anyone down there and I swore to her that there was no one but the dark figure I seen that charged at me. A week later after that one incident, me and Calvin left my mom at my sister's place while we went to check on her place, when I first opened the front door and took a step, I felt shattered glass at my feet and seen that a few picture frames that were once hanging off the living room wall on the far end were right at the door as of something had thrown them. We both wandered into the kitchen to find opened cupboards, smashed plates and cups along with forks and spoon all over the tile floor and a few knives sticking out of the wall, the smell of rotten food that's been tossed onto the floor from the fridge was also there. Needless to say that the whole house was a mess from this thing that was in the basement and left no door open. As we searched all around the house and came to the basement door, neither of us wanted to go down there but it had to be done. Slowly opening the door and turning on the lights, everything was quiet and seemed like the activity had stopped, I felt at ease for a few seconds while going down the stairs as Calvin trailed behind me as close as he can be without making me uncomfortable. We got to the bottom of the stairs and peeked around the corner and I pointed out to where I had seen the dark figure and Calvin kind of just scoffed, feeling brave he was but that didn't last long. As we looked around the basement, checking behind the water tank, the coast was clear as it seemed for the time being but as we turned around to walk towards the stairs, Calvin begins to run the back of his neck and I immediately knew what had happened cause it happened to me a few seconds later. We both dashed towards the stairs shoving and clawing at one another trying to get up the stairs as quick as possible and the screaming started, we both stopped and looked back to see nothing but the sound of running footsteps came charging at us and again we both screamed pushing one another and crawled up the last remains steps and slammed the door behind us. Our backs leaned against the wall as the banging and shaking of the door knob began once more, we both ran towards the door and fell onto the front lawn catching our breaths. After like twenty minutes of who's gonna close and lock the front door which we left wide open from our panic, we went back to my sister's and told mom what had happened and she was distraught that whatever was in her basement was still screaming and wrecking a havoc in her new home. That next month I had hired some people to clean her places and got some movers to gather up all her belongings and she moved in with me for a bit just till she could find another place to live, but that experience was something out of a movie and I dare not to even be on the same street of that house. Over time I heard people talking about that house cause we do live in a small town and so far two other families have been driven out from there, chased out is more like it, chased out by what's in that basement and still today the stories still circulate about the screaming. Whatever it is that's down there in that basement, whoever it was... She's still screaming.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bh1yo/she_still_screams/

scarystories

panterium

You should always search for unknown noises.

A single knock at the door. Not the rhythmic tapping of an invited guest. Not the pattern of thumps to get a homeowner's attention. Just a single knock. Assuming it to be a noise of nature, especially considering that the time was 11pm, I left it. I live alone and expected no visitors that night. But then it came again. The second, yet still painfully single, knock. To call it a knock is to exaggerate - This was a bang. Not a gentle ask to be allowed in, but a demand for attention. I glanced out the window, seeing nothing. Yet even as I looked at the empty pavement in front of my house, I heard it for a third time. The same sound, confidently coming from my front door, and echoing through my home. Curious of a blind spot from my view, I went up to the source of the sound, and looked right through the peephole. My eyes saw nothing, yet my ears disagreed, as a thud occurred that was so loud I could feel it emanating through the door. Expecting a bat or other creature to be somehow stuck, I opened the door to investigate. If this noise had continued, I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. This still rang true as fact, but not because of the noise - I couldn't sleep that night because of what I saw. Standing outside, in a place that had been void of anything just moments ago, was now a grey figure. It was humanoid, but a far stretch away from human. I can only describe its features as empty - No soul behind them. A vessel that could move, and imitate life, but was in no way alive. It had no eyes, and yet I felt it staring right through me as I froze in fear. Its thin posture was only slightly taller than me - As weak as it looked, I knew that it would be a bad idea to mess with it. Slits all over its skin opened, as thick blood began to ooze from these new wounds. From each one, a chain shot out, burying themselves into the ground. A mouth which I had not noticed before opened - Its teeth were many. It let out a shriek, as it grew taller. The rusted chains creaked and clanged, as the figure struggled. They were pulling it down. It did not struggle by attempting to get away - Its growth seemed to be how it planned to escape. For every inch the chains pulled it down, it would grow two inches. It had become an immovable tower of fear. If reality does not truly exist, *this* thing is what makes me agree. It fed on the terror of those around it. It reached the size of my house, and the chains began to work twice as hard. The figure became stiffer, as moving became more difficult. It sunk into the ground, continuing its cry. The screams are etched into my brain. Soon, only its now stretched, disfigured head remained. Its growth had caused the head to distort, its inhuman mouth screeching in my face, before being totally dragged under. There I stood - On the edge of the pitch black outside, as the light from my hallway spilt out. No evidence of the horrors remained. Looking down the street, I could see only houses. Everything was quiet - Everything except my mind. I stood like that for a few moments. I didn't feel any presence of danger anymore - I felt numb. The terrors of mere seconds before contrasted heavily with the empty night before me. I couldn't shake off the feeling that if I hadn't opened the door, if I hadn't decided to look into the abyss of the night, the creature would have allowed itself into my home. The process of it being cast back into the underworld only began when I saw it. In a way, despite my fear running deep, I had still faced it. Perhaps I should look for the source of unknown noises more often. After all, what's scarier than that which you cannot find? [===](https://reddit.com/r/BriteWrites)

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bgw87/you_should_always_search_for_unknown_noises/

scarystories

NomNomNomNation

Being an Exterminator Isn’t Like I Thought it Would Be

A few years ago, I wrote about my experiences working overnight at Lowe’s and the downright insanity that I had gone through. I was pretty surprised that so many people actually liked it, so much so that a pretty popular Youtuber wanted to read it for his channel. It’s now one of his top five videos and I am honored by the popularity of it. Hell, I’m not even mad that the vast majority of listeners don’t believe the story. It was crazier than Britney Spears and more unbelievable than Pizza Gate. If you want to check it out, you can find it [here](https://youtu.be/FdqOE3Dtjys?si=DBFz2FMk38jJ1zQ4). So, why am I writing again after all this time? Isn’t the story over? Fuck, I wish. Apparently, when you look into the void, the void notices, or something along those lines. All I know is that ever since Lowe’s, my life really hasn’t been the same. Sure, I had a year or two of relative peace. My compensation for saving the world set me and mine up for a good while. I went on a long vacation, paid off all my bills, built a perfect “off the grid” home away from people, outside my family of course, and big cities. I’ve come to understand that i need at least an acre of land between me and my closet neighbor for me to feel at ease and able to stretch my arms. I always hated living in cities anyways, too many people, too close together, no room to breathe, everything smells funny, you guys get it. "But, Trent, don’t you get bored? Don't you want things to do?” I have plenty of things to do around the homestead, and not dealing with asshole city people is my number one priority. With that said, I won’t lie that I got bored after two years. Yes, I did experience some weird things every now and then during this time. A few shadow people, things getting moved, a sasquatch living in my woods (mating season really sucks, by the way), but fortunately nothing compared to Lowe’s, that experience kind of Overton Windowed me on how I look at things. Funny enough though, my wife and kids never seem to really notice the weird goings on around the house. They just think they’re forgetting things or there’s some animal dying in the woods every rutting season. That’s fine with me, less things to explain. So, back to the point. Why am I writing again? Well, like I said above, I got bored and decided to get a job, just a part time one, not like I need the money or anything, I just wanted to stay busy. See, unlike our politicians, I have a work ethic, hell, I actually have ethics, so a friend of mine that runs an Extermination business in the town close by, said he needed some help because he was running low on Exterminators, just like every other business running low on workers, and asked if I could work a few days out of the week to give him a hand. He knew that my dad was an Exterminator and knew that I did have a little bit of experience at it, so of course he came to me, and with me being bored out of my mind with the routine of homesteading, I of course, said yes. It started out fine, for the first month, everything was pretty basic. Treat for crawling insects, treat for stinging insects, treat for German and oriental cockroaches, take care of hornet and yellow jacket nests, lay out bait stations for mice and rats, you know, the basics. I enjoyed the job, I really did. I delt with people that were actually happy to see me, and I helped people with their problems. Yes, their problems were usually nothing more than them fearing house centipedes or a rambunctious mouse in their attic, but I wanted to give them some peace of mind, and for the most part, I did. Then came the day that things started to change. The day I went to that damned, abandoned house. Now, try to understand, before a house is destroyed it must be prepped with some bait and spray to kill the mice, or rats or roaches or whatever might be living there because the city, or the company, that’s demolishing the building doesn't want the pests to flee and infest nearby homes or businesses around the now ex-building. As I pulled up to the crumbling, two-story building, I could feel the hair on the back of my neck rise. As I stepped out and looked over the old house, I could feel right away something wasn’t right about it. I didn’t know what it was, but once you’re touched by the other side you get a sense for these kinds of things, like a mother knowing when their kid is lying to them. My mother was always keenly aware of my lies, the worse part was, when she would inevitably call me out on my lie, she would proceed to commit phycological torture on me and make me walk down my hill to my Grandpa’s yard to pick a switch of his apple tree, with her saying, “pick a good one or I will go get one myself”, and I knew for a fact that her's wouldn’t be a switch and a full blown branch. Now, keep in mind it wasn’t a long walk, not even close, you could get there and back in under five minutes, I, though, would stretch that short walk out to easily an hour, hoping and praying that she would forget why she was ever angry. It never fucking worked, and I would always end up with a stinging ass. Please, understand, I grew up in a different area then most those that might be reading this, back when your seatbelts were your parent’s arms, the bed of a truck was just extra seating and whipping your kids’ ass wasn’t looked down upon, it was expected, and my mother loved using that form of punishment. Now, before anyone gets their short and curlys in knots and scream, “that’s child abuse!” or “What an awful woman!” I want you to get through that skull of yours that my mother was a Goddamned saint. I, on the other hand, was a right bastard, she was a divorced mother, raising two kids and doing the best that she could, so chill out before you flip. Fuck, if anything I believe we should bring back some capital punishment. Kids these days seem to need to have some old fashion ass beatings. I think it would fix a lot of the issues we have today, or at least fix them for tomorrow. Sorry, I kinda went on a tangent there, back to what I was talking about, this house I was standing before was giving off some truly bad mojo that I did not like at all. Let’s just say that I would not shake this poor sinner’s hand, if you get my drift, but I had a job to do and with these feelings I was having, I might be the best one to do it. Some other exterminator would just walk blindly in and not be anywhere close to being aware of any possible danger except for maybe falling through a rotting floor. I, at least, knew there might be danger and, as assistant greenskeeper Carl Spackler once wisely said, “I have that goin’ for me, which is nice”. I went to the back of my truck and grabbed up my bucket of Contact bait and my B&G and headed in. I knew I would have to go around back to get in, the front door was blocked with a large panel of plywood, but the back door was wide open according to the note in my phone. This, though, wasn’t going as easy as it sounded. The yard looked as though it hadn’t been attended to since the Reagon Administration and now the Amazon was growing next to it (The jungle, not the warehouse for the younger readers). I was eventually able to poke my way through the wild bush and get to the back deck. The corner of the house had collapsed in, and the basement was exposed to the elements. Foul air rose out from that hole; rot, decay, mold, the typical smells, but hidden among the normal scents of abandonments was something else, something I smelt before but just couldn’t place my finger on it. Anyway, I walked around the breach and into the decaying wood of the old deck. It was a lot more stable than I had thought due to the way it looked. I stepped up to the back door and looked in. If the hairs on my neck could detach and crawl away, they would leave me far behind right at that moment. Past the doorway everything was hard to see, it was almost as if light itself wanted to avoid this place. I reached up and flicked on my headlamp to see if that might help any. It didn’t. Even with my headlamp on the interior of the house still looked darker than it should have been. “That’s always a good sign.” I said aloud, with such sarcasm, Italians could dip bread into it. I stepped into the house and proceeded to treat the house. It was a disaster, as to be excepted. Rubish was thrown about everywhere, some caught me off guard, like a box of old water damaged VHS tapes (I think I saw a Blockbuster sticker on a few of them). Some made me sad, like the little pile of children's clothes and toys in a corner of the living room. Some just freaked me out, like a decomposing possum that lay in the lap of an old, corroding doll whose arms were wrapped around its neck in a tight embrace, all while sitting in the middle of an empty bedroom. Yeah, I avoided that room. I just tossed in a block of Contact bait and moved on. Once I treated and baited the house, I had to do the last area. The place I was really kind of avoiding. The basement. This, I wasn’t looking forward to. The rest of the house gave off a creepy vibe, but the basement, shit, the basement just felt wrong. I stood at the top of the stairs looking down into the semi-darkness. Light from the fallen corner was streaming in. I took a deep breath, choked a bit on the fetid and proceeded to walk down the stairs. I stopped at the bottom and looked around. There was junk everywhere, all of it slowly rotting away. I started tossing blocks about, not really wanting to leave the stair area, because I could feel something watching me, it radiated hatred stronger than the Democratic Party does for Trump. I turned to toss a block down to the dark back of the basement when I came to a fast stop. In the darkness I could make out an even darker shape. A silhouette of a man standing in an open door that I honestly didn’t see before. The worst thing was, I could see the thing’s eyes. No, they weren’t glowing. I always hated stories where some monster’s eyes glow in the dark. It's so stupid and impractical if you really think about it. Not really a good predator if your glowing eyes give away your location, is it? Also, if its eyes glowed then how in the hell could it see? I mean, the only thing its optic nerve would be picking up is the light that its eyes would be giving off. Glowing eyes pretty much means it's blind. What I saw wasn't glowing eyes, but eyeshine, pale, blue, cold and full of hate. Think Riddick from the movies but more pissed off, that was what I was seeing, and it nearly made me pissed myself. I took a single step back up the stairs and the eyeshine shadow launched itself at me, knocking the junk around the floor up and away from itself as it flew straight at me. I ran up those stairs so fast, Usain Bolt would have been jealous. I scooped up my B&G, which I had left in the kitchen, and scrambled out the door into the warm, welcoming sun. I ran to the edge of the deck and turned around to glance to see if it was still coming after me. I stopped moving as goose bumps ran over my body. From the basement doorway I could see half of a dark, emaciated face and a bone thin hand holding the doorframe. That cold, hateful eyeshine eye stared longingly at me. Then, with a blink, it was gone. Shaking from the adrenaline rush of such a fright, I got myself together and went back to my truck. I placed all my stuff back in its proper place and went to get into the driver’s seat. I turned back to the loathsome house one last time and in a window, among the sun-rotten curtains, I saw a little, pale girl holding the doll that had held the possum. I spat out a sour taste that had come to my mouth. “Fuck this house,” I said as breath finally left my lungs. I climbed into my truck and drove off. I ended up doing my report farther down the road, away from that place. I didn’t add anything that really happened to my notes, it’s not like anyone would believe me, so way bother. I did put in the notes that the house was in extremely bad condition, and I advised no one to enter it. I’m not sure if it did any good, but the sooner they tear down that place the better. Well, that’s it for me today. I’ll post again if anything weird happens again.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bgmo4/being_an_exterminator_isnt_like_i_thought_it/

scarystories

krayhayft

Noises

Every other night I’ll hear a noise that sounds like a woman screaming or a siren, I have no idea what it is, it’s too repetitive to be a human I believe but it sounds so oddly human. It only every happens late at night. Idk what it is but it has scared the shit out of me for several weeks.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17bd48q/noises/

scarystories

Careless_Ad_2244

Safety of the Lanterns

As the carriage scraped slowly down the dirt road, Joan began to gain a feeling of being watched. The forest seemed to whisper sweet nothings and horrible thoughts to her, blowing her hair against her face as she watched the cold dark behind her. The thick, woolen sheet that covered the top of the carriage swayed with the rhythm of the harsh wind, drooping against the fellow passengers and gently tapping the crowns of their heads. They were headed into the main village of their county, in search of work and opportunities made by new kingdom demands. The passengers surrounding her were all in the same shape as her, battered and bruised by nights on the roads, painted a gentle shade of grey and beige by the residues of a dirt bed from many nights ago. She wore a simple tunic, meant to make her look more like a man, rather than a peasant woman to be targeted by the degenerates of the surrounding towns. The tunic sat over a cloth white shirt, above grey cloth pants tattered with dirt and rips from falls only the fabric could remember. The carriage was pulled by a single traveler, sitting quietly behind two black horses fitted with leather harnesses and reins. The driver sat next to a large lantern, swinging with the steps of each horse. The lantern cast a gentle light over the carriage, passing warmly through the white cloth that obstructed some of it. The carriage had been riding on the same dirt road for what felt like hours of the night. The passengers hadn’t spoken a word to each other, sitting in silence and watching their own feet sink into the planks of the floor below them. Joan was beginning to feel restless, with the urge to stand and stretch her legs out. Most carriage drivers would stop for passengers to relieve themselves (with the fear of them doing such things in the carriage itself), and so she decided she’d use that excuse to shake her once dormant legs back into animation. She gently tapped on the driver’s shoulder, lowered her voice to a quieter pitch and politely asked for them to pull to the side of the road for her own purposes. The carriage driver seemed to be shaken out of a slumber, as he turned and nodded happily. The horses slowly veered to the left, bringing the fully packed carriage to a complete halt. A few of the other passengers hopped off alongside her, some only to stretch their legs, others to relieve themselves in the forest. The horses stirred impatiently, their hooves brushing against the dirt to create small clouds of dust. The wind had slowed enough that the night was now rather silent. Crickets grew louder, animals dashed through bushes at the sudden appearance of humans and trees waved slowly, almost as if they’d decided to give a friendly welcome to the weary travelers. Joan stretched her arms, extended her legs and walked in an awkward lunge towards the trail at the entry of the forest. 4 passengers followed the same path, splitting into different parts of the bushes. 3 passengers and the driver stayed around the carriage, waiting patiently for the return of Joan and the other 4. Joan had no need to relieve herself but felt inclined to make it look as if she did, so that the driver wouldn’t think she asked to stop only to stretch. As she walked back to the main trail, the wind seemed to come to a complete halt. The path in front and behind them seemed to stretch infinitely across the forest. Any end on either side was now completely hidden by the darkness, progressively fading the road into complete black. She stepped back onto the main path and started back towards the carriage. Everyone was gone. She looked around to see if they’d stepped away momentarily, perhaps stood against the other side of the carriage or even sat inside, but wasn’t met with any friendly or weary faces. The front of the carriage, which once held the horses at its bow, was now completely tipped forward. Not a single living thing was anywhere she could see. She called for the forest, towards the trail they had originally entered and received no answer. The wind remained silent, the crickets stopped alongside the trees. The forest was quiet beyond the point of possibility. Her footsteps boomed along the road, echoing through the trees with each quivering foot. She started towards the direction they’d been traveling in, her shaky breath seeming to brush the dirt from under her feet. As she walked just outside of the light of her carriage, she spotted another light up ahead. Across a long stretch of darkness was a faint yellow light, like that of the lantern on the front of her carriage. Despite the stretch of pitch black, she pushed through and approached the light. The light belonged to that of another carriage up ahead, identical to the one she’d just abandoned. She walked cautiously up to the carriage, overturned just like her own. The lantern hung with a slow swing towards the right side of the road, almost as if it had just crashed. She called out into the woods with hope or delusion, that one of the other passengers was still out there. No answer, the silence was deafening. As she walked towards the front of the carriage, she noticed footprints headed away from the lantern. Fresh markings in the dirt started onwards through yet another patch of darkness. As she followed them further, she came to notice yet another light up ahead, faintly swaying in the quiet of the night. Pumped with adrenaline, Joan dashed through the pitch-black spot, looking back towards the old carriage. The light faded abnormally the further away she got, completely disappearing from the same range she’d seen the light ahead of her. She turned forward, worried for her own sanity as she stared at yet another carriage. The lantern was swinging violently on the driver’s seat, filling the forest with sounds of grinding metal. It didn’t slow itself at any point, nor did it come into contact with anything that could move it. She grabbed the lantern by its bottom, bringing it to a complete halt. The noise stopped, bringing the forest to a complete hush once again. ‘Hello?’ She called into the forest. A voice called back, from deep into the trails of the trees. ‘I’m on the dirt path, I seem to have lost my traveling group. Is anyone there?’ The voice called back again, now much closer to the side of the road. The lantern began to sway slowly behind her, gently screeching against the metal hook it hung from. Joan stood next to it, marveling at the way it seemed to move completely on its own. ‘Come into the light, perhaps we can help each other.’ She shouted. The voice called back with a groan, unlike any noise that a human could make. The voice had become alarmingly close to the road, close enough that Joan should be able to easily see its source. The screeching from the lantern grew unbearably loud, Joan’s heartbeat reached her ears as she anticipated anyone, anything to leave the concealment of the bushes. Joan’s footsteps grew heavy in her ears, but she had stopped walking minutes before. She spun, checking behind herself as the lantern violently slammed itself against the abandoned carriage. Joan began to mumble to herself, turning back towards the voice from the bushes. The footsteps grew louder, her heartbeat grew faster as a low exhaling sound came from the bush. The lantern slammed itself against the carriage, freeing itself from the hook that once held it. With a clatter and loud shatter of glass, the light surrounding her went out. Without missing a beat, Joan sprinted towards where she believed the next light would be, closely pursued by something behind her. Her feet were heavy, smacking the dirt of the road as she used any energy she had left to reach more light. The creature followed closely, sounding as if it were gasping for air. After what felt like an hour of running in the dark, a light appeared ahead on yet another abandoned carriage. Joan was completely distraught, crying for help she’d never receive. In an act of exhaustion, she tripped on her own feet, sliding harshly against the dirt path she was so familiar with. She cowered in fear, expecting to be caught by the gasping creature she dreaded so deeply. After an eternity of hiding behind her own hands, she uncovered her eyes to find that she was alone yet again. Behind her, she could see her own overlapping footsteps from many failed attempts at reaching civilization. She stood up, wiping the tears from her eyes and dusting herself off. Just as she gained her composure, the lantern began to swing gently against its hook. Paralyzed with fear, Joan watched as the lantern began to gain height and speed, starting to slam against the side of the carriage. With limited time before the lantern would jump yet again, Joan attempted to grab it in order to keep the source of light protected. Lifting it gently off the hook, the handle grew unbearably hot, scorching her now blistering skin. The lantern grew orange, appearing as if it had been freshly forged. The lantern began to swing harder and faster than ever before. Joan dashed towards the back of the carriage, jumping inside to hide from the creature that had chased her before. The lantern had stopped swinging for a mere moment, followed by a deafening shatter and crash. Despite it dismounting itself, the lantern continued to glow gently on the path, passing a glow over the side of the wool cloth. The forest was now quieter than ever before. She could hear her lungs inflate and deflate with each breath, her heartbeat could be heard from miles around, alongside the rushing of blood to her ears. Through the silence, a grunt broke from the direction of the lantern. As its footsteps got closer to the lantern, it could be heard gurgling and gasping for air. The creature stepped closer to the carriage, taking what felt like hours to search for her. As it passed the lantern, it began to cast a shadow on the side of the carriage. She sat mortified, watching as the lantern further illuminated the creature’s size and stature. It stood tall, hunched at an angle not survivable for a living human being. Startled by its silhouette, Joan moved back slightly, covering her mouth to remain hidden. In doing so, she spotted a small hole closer to the driver’s side of the carriage. With slow and precise movements, Joan lowered her head towards the small hole, terrified but curious to catch a glimpse of the creature that hunted her so desperately. Standing in front of the lantern was a tall man with grey and blackened skin, rotted by years of rainfall and cold. He wore tattered old clothes, far too small for a man of his size. His eyes were wide, almost excited as he looked towards the carriage. His eyes were an endless darkness, lacking anything other than pupil. Below his nose was a long mouth, agape to an unnatural length, hanging over a bloody gash where his throat should be. Upon noticing his throat, Joan let out an audible gasp. His eyes met hers. In the morning, travelers came across a wrecked carriage. In the wreckage, villagers found the remains of 9 humans and 2 horses, all without a throat. The carriage sat leaning against the carcasses of the horses, with a lantern laid shattered on the ground.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17ba0zu/safety_of_the_lanterns/

scarystories

clubpenguintraphouse

Purple Feet

My boyfriend, Ryan, broke into my mother’s house, thinking it was me that locked it after having a bad vision. Luckily, my mother knows who he was and when she discovered it was him, she was scared at first but then Ryan explained to her why he has forced himself into her house and she relaxed. She said I wasn’t at her house, I moved out of her house when I was 20. Ryan said we have only been together for 3 months and that I was only 18. This was odd, as we have actually been together for 9 years now and I am 27. This Ryan seemed to have been one from the past. My mother called me up first and asked what was going on with Ryan. I said he was at work still and wondered why he forced himself into her home and claiming to be from the past. I told my mum to keep the “Past Ryan” there until I had arrived. I suffer from hallucinations but they mostly get triggered at night or when I am in a dark place. That’s why I can’t go to the cinema or a concert, as it can be dark sometimes or have moments when the lights are off and this can trigger an hallucination. My mum found that out when she took me to the cinema to see Avengers: Infinity War. Shortly after the lights were out, I got a vision. This was when I discovered I literally couldn’t be in any dark place, as that’s what triggers the hallucinations. Luckily, this happened early afternoon in the summer, it was June, so it was as bright as it could be on a sunny day in the summer. Once I had pulled up to my mother’s house, I knocked on her door, like I usually do. She came running to the door and tried to open it but something pulled her back, just before she could push the handle down to open it. I peeped through her letterbox to see what was going on. There was this creature with purple feet, dragging my terrified mother into her kitchen. I tried opening the door but this creature must’ve found a way to lock it. I tried using the key which I was given when I had moved, but it didn’t fit the lock. That was odd, as my mother has never changed the lock on her door. So, I kicked down her garden gate, as that was locked too and picked up the metal rod that was under the back door mat and smashed the back door window. I then opened the back door from the inside. That was locked, so I climb through the broken door window instead. Once I was in, I called for Ryan. The creature with purple feet was stopped in his tracks and ran to where he had heard the voice. I had just got myself into the dining room, when the creature with purple feet approached me. Understandably, this was not the boyfriend I knew and loved and I started screaming at it. Hearing my mother crying and wailing, not being able to get up off the floor to help me, I ran to the kitchen, where my mother was on the floor, with what appeared to be an injured back. I helped her get up and as soon as I turned around, the creature with purple feet was back. “James?” It asked, in a low, demonic-esque voice. “Stay away from us!” I yelled “I want my boyfriend.” And I tried fleeing the kitchen with my mother but the creature with purple feet stopped me in my tracks. “Ryan? Is that who you are looking for?” It asked, still in a scary low tone but it seemed like it didn’t want to do any harm to me. “Yes, I am. Do you know where he’s gone to?” I asked, not realising there wasn’t anyone else there but the 3 of us. “He’s here. I don’t see a 4th person.” It responded. Then my heart sank. It clicked. This was my boyfriend. It was hard to believe but it was true. “Ryan? This is you?” I said, in disbelief. Then, my alarm went off. This was all just a really weird dream. I woke up with my heart pounding and I was sweating. My boyfriend, Ryan, said “Bad dream? Or, was I a random monster again with your mother?” “Can you come closer so I can verify whether or not you are that monster I was seeing.” I said. Ryan walked to the bed and laid down beside me. “Close enough?” He asked, jokingly. I kissed his forehead and whispered in his ear “I’m glad your feet aren’t purple.” We both chuckled, as I got out of bed. That’s all for this story. Hope you all found this spooky, just like my previous story. Ryan and James are fictional characters, living in a crazy world. I shall return with another story soon.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17benym/purple_feet/

scarystories

JohnnyTZone

Germ Theory

Sometimes they see me. Other times they act like I’m not there. When they get sick. They damn the gods as if they had anything to do with it. I’m ancient. Older than their legends of gods and man. I’ve wiped out armies of men, toppled empires without thinking. I have no plan nor motivations. My existence is replication and destruction so next time you see someone coughing. Cross the road or you might be next.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17b8dkr/germ_theory/

scarystories

LorneBronstein

The Mirror

**Day 1** Doris opened her front door and stepped into her living room, putting the box she was carrying on the end table next to her chair. After sitting down, she lifted the lid, removed the tissue paper, folded it, and placed it in a tidy stack next to the box. Next, very carefully with both hands, she removed the mirror from the box. She spent everything she had on the thing. But when she caught sight of herself in it while she was at that strange curio shop, she knew she had to have it. That money was supposed to last her the month, but she was an adult, and it was her money; she'd spend it however she pleased. Doris removed the soft, black velvet cloth covering the mirror. It was very simple-looking, not too big, oval in shape, and it had a polished cherry wood frame. Upon closer inspection of the mirror frame, if one were to look very closely, strange symbols could be seen etched into the wood. Doris did not care about the frame, however. She smiled at herself and admired her beautiful, pearly-white teeth. She ran her hands through her hair and watched herself curl her full raven black locks between her fingers. She stared deeply into her vibrant emerald green eyes. She watched as tears began to well in them. She ate nothing that day and drank only one cup of hot tea. Perhaps she would not have done this if it were not an excuse to look at the beauty of her hands in the mirror. In time, she could no longer fight off sleep. Too tired now to go to bed, she placed her mirror down on the end table next to her, lowered her head, and fell asleep in her chair. **Day 2** Doris had dreamed of her mirror all night. The dreams were so vivid that when she awoke, she wondered if everything had not been a dream. She was overcome with joy when she saw it beside her on the table. Straight away, she had an idea. Perhaps inspired by one of her dreams. She went into her bedroom and took her makeup kit from her vanity. She promptly returned to the front room. Using the lamp on the end table, she propped up the mirror and applied her makeup. Her lipstick was applied last of all. It was a dark crimson, and it accented perfectly her dark hair and milk white flesh. She blew herself a kiss in the mirror and said in a whisper, "Hello, beautiful." She did not eat or drink anything all day. It was too difficult to break away from the mirror. For the second night in a row, she fell asleep in her chair. **Day 3** Around *10:35* a.m., the phone rang. Doris didn't answer. It wasn't important. Her beautiful reflection was all she wanted to focus on. She sat all day in her chair, looking into her mirror. She fell asleep with it in her lap. **Day 4** It wasn't quite eleven in the morning when a knock came from the front door. It went unanswered; it was followed by another knock. Then another. Then the door was opened—just a crack—and a voice yelled through it. "Miss White? It's Oscar from next door. I tried calling yesterday, but I couldn't get ahold of you. I haven't seen you out in the yard lately; I just wanted to make sure you were okay." After receiving no reply, Oscar, from next door, let himself in. "You are okay, aren't you, Miss White? Oh. Oh no." Oscar saw Doris White sitting in her chair, head down, with a broken mirror at her feet. He could tell from where he stood that she was not breathing. Doris White died in her sleep at the age of 88 years old. She died, as have so many before her, and as so many shall after her, dwelling on reflections of the past.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17ayj8x/the_mirror/

scarystories

DungeonMarshal

The Helldog Part 2

So, some of you may have seen my previous post about The Helldog. If you haven't, read it now to catch up on the story, but basically, about 10 years ago I accidentally summoned a demon from hell called, "The Helldog." It murdered my entire family and I melted it with a cross. Well, he came back to try to kill me the other night, and here is that story.Just as I posted the Helldog post, I decided to go to bed. I had work the next morning and I was feeling pretty tired. At around 2:00-2:15 in the morning I was woken up by loud stomping noises. I went out to investigate. I was pretty scared, but at the time I assumed some obese burglar had broken in. Since the Helldog incident I always keep a pocket knife and a cross on my person at all times. ​ I stepped out of my room, and what I saw almost made me vomit.It was the fucking Helldog. I was lost for words. He stared at me with his piercing red eyes and started to angrily roar. He started to run at me. I pulled out my cross and he stopped. It then laughed,. He said in a deep voice, "Did you think that would work on me, you pathetic human?" I then said, "Leave me alone you evil incarnate of Hell." I also said, "How did you come back? I fucking killed you." It then said, "You never killed me, you belligerent fool, for I am eternal." He then started hysterically laughing.It then grabbed me and said, "Speaking of death, I should take care of you first, child." ​ It then started gnawing at my stomach and I pulled out my pocket knife and stabbed it in the eye. It then charged at me and tackled me into a wall, it cracked my head open, blood started gushing from my head, and in that moment, in a fit of unfathomable rage, I dug my fingers into the demon's eyes. Blood started pouring out all over and screamed extremely loud in pain.I wasn't done with him though. I then ripped the demon's horns out while it was screaming. I took the horns, grabbed the demon, and started stabbing him in the head for about a minute straight. ​ I assumed he was dead, but to make sure he wouldn't come back to terrorize me again, I took the corpse out to a field near my house, where I drenched lighter fluid all over him and lit him. I was wearing a hoodie and gloves as I didn't want to be seen as I would be extremely suspicious. I then took the ashes, put it in a trash bag with a Holy Bible and a cross, and buried them all underground far away from my house. ​ Since the incident a few nights ago, I am now nervous. I fear that even at my attempts, The Helldog will still come back one day to try to kill me again. To whoever may be reading this, please give me some advice on what to do about The Helldog. What to do if he comes back, how to avoid a future confrontation, anything. Please either leave a comment or message me. Your help will mean everything to me. Thank you.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17b9fxw/the_helldog_part_2/

scarystories

SheepherderOk9241

My school just went on lockdown. The 'school shooter' sure as hell isn't human. (Part One)

10th Grade can be a bust. But going on a full-out lockdown CAN'T be compared to all the other shit you might face, especially the lockdown I was in a few years ago. On that one Wednesday afternoon, during English class, the loudspeakers came on, and the vice principal's panicked voice flooded the room. "Lockdown, Lockdown, Lockdown, Lockdown," Usually, we can tell if a lockdown is a real deal because, in a drill, the vice-principal or the principal says 'lockdown' three times. But when a lockdown is real, and when someone dangerous and armed is in the building, the vice principal says 'lockdown' four times. The lockdown was going smoothly at first until we realized something. A girl, Linda, was in the washroom, and she hadn't gone back for ten minutes since the lockdown started. Our seven-foot-tall, 300 pound English teacher bravely volunteered to go check if everything was okay. Honestly, I don't think a bullet could even pierce his skin enough to reach his vital organs. When the teacher hadn't returned in twenty minutes, we started to panic. "What the hell is going on? They should be fucking back!" One kid said. "They're probably dead," "The fuck?" "When is this over?" "EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP! We wait ten minutes until Mr. Johnson comes back, and if they don't come back, we-" Somebody screamed in the hallway. A female voice. One of my best friends, nicknamed 'Blame', pulled me aside from the chaos. Blame was allegedly part of a 'gang'. He dressed in 'hood' clothes, always carried a switchblade on him, and never spoke in full sentences. "Yo dawg, shit's going on?" Blame asked. I replied, "I don't know. Why the fuck isn't Mr. Johnson coming back? Someone is outside, and by the looks of it, they're armed." Another scream echoed into the hallway. Linda ran down the hallway, like that cliche girl in every slasher film, and she started banging on the door. "LET ME IN, LET ME IN!" she screamed. "Yo girl, calm down," Blame said. "Calm down, stop fucking around. What's going on?" I asked. "Let me in, something is chasing me!" "This isn't funny, Linda," Dan said. Dan slowly removed the barricade and unlocked the door, and he stepped out. Through the window in the door, I could see him asking Linda something when something we couldn't see tripped Linda, and dragged her, screaming. "FUCK!" Dan screamed. He desperately tried to run back to the door, but the thing we couldn't see grabbed him and started dragging him along the floor. He kicked, screamed, and punched, but whatever had a hold of him was stronger. The two freshmen were dragged to the other hallway, where we couldn't see them anymore. The screams eventually cut off. I rushed to the door, locking it, and I covered the window. "THE FUCK IS GOIN' ON, DAWG?" Blame screamed. "I'm not paid enough for this shit," I said. All the kids began to panic, and arguments ensued. Three kids, Dan's goons, wanted to go out and try to look for him. I tried to argue, saying that it was too dangerous. I almost feel bad for what happened to them. Ryan, one of them, yelled, "So you're going to just sit here instead of looking for my man?" "Hey, I don't know if you numbskulls can process thoughts anymore, but did you see what took him?! That's no school shooter, hell, it might not even be human. And you want to get out and look for a dead man?" Ryan stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. "What was that, bitch?" Blame stepped between us and glared at Ryan. "Dawg, get the fuck away from my homie, or imma fuck your pansy-ass up and make 'ya wish you were never born." Ryan looked like he had an idea. "You. Give me that switchblade you always carry." In case you didn't know, even on school grounds, Blame always carried a switchblade in his pocket in case, as he said, 'shit went down'. "Hell naw, bitch, you go get your own, dawg," I decided that I had enough of this shit. "You know what? Ryan, if you want to go outside and look for your dead friend, be my guest. No one's stopping you. Go out and fucking die, just know that I warned you." Ryan looked hesitant. "Fine. Let's go!" he looked at the silent group of sophomores, at his jocks. When they didn't come, Ryan screamed, "Let's go you pussies!!" And they went outside, into the dark hallways. I watched as Ryan and his gang went, in the hallway where I couldn't see them anymore, which was also the hallway we saw Dan and Linda disappear. I heard their footsteps abruptly stop. I heard one of them yell, "What the fuck is that thing?" followed by very deep and aggressive growling, and the sound of something heavy standing up. "Oh shit, let's get out of here!" Ryan screamed. "GO, GO, GO-" All the screaming and sounds abruptly cut off, like someone had turned the mute button on. Then, I heard deep and loud footsteps, then the sound of something large being dragged down the hallway, heading away from us. My stomach twisted. I knew this was going to happen. Everyone started to panic, a few kids started to cry, and some kids made futile attempts at calling 911, which wasn't working. "What the fuck was that?!" I stood up. "They're probably dead and fucked, and nothing's going to change that. Now we have... twenty? Sorry, I'm not too good at subtraction. Yeah, we have twenty people left. We need to at all costs avoid panicking because that'll- "Who the fuck put you in charge?" One kid asked. "I did, dawg!" Blame said. "Now shut the fuck up, and listen!" "Thanks, man," I said to Blame. "Anytime, player." "Now does anyone have weapons?" I asked. Seven kids, (including me) raised their hands. Of course. Half the fucking class was part of a 'gang'. And we were in the USA. In the end, we had gathered ten weapons from all the kids. Mostly switchblades, swiss army knives, folding knives, and even a few fixed blades. I had a small folding knife my father had given me. Blame pulled me aside. "Yo dawg, I got something to tell you," he said. "What?" I asked. "I'll tell you when you drop the fucking attitude!" he yelled. "I have a gun," I raised my eyebrows. "Are you serious?" I asked. "Yeah, dawg," Blame pulled up his hoodie, revealing a nine-millimeter pistol sloppily holstered in his belt. "That's great! How much ammo do you have?" I asked. "Two magazines," he replied. I stood up. "I have an announcement to make," everyone went silent. "We have a fucking gun," The class cheered. I walked to the other side of the classroom. In case you were wondering, we don't have windows in our classroom, since we're at the heart of the school, and even if we did, we were on the third floor anyway. "Now did anyone call the police?" I asked. "Naw, they keep hanging up on us," one kid said. Of course, they did. I pulled out my phone and typed down everything that had happened on Reddit, so I could post it later or something. "Should we get ou-" My heart dropped as something huge bashed against the door. Everyone screamed and backed away. "Oh shit dawg," Blame said. He turned the safety on his pistol. "No," I put my hand gently on his pistol. "Save the ammo for later. I'm going to get a good look at this thing," Upon not hearing any noises, I walked to the door and took the cover off the window. I looked out the hallway and got a long, good look at the thing that had killed five of our classmates. There was a damn monster right outside our classroom. [Part One](https://www.reddit.com/r/SeasideUniverse/comments/zlblvx/my_school_just_went_on_lockdownthe_high_schoolers/) [THE BOOK](https://www.amazon.com/Schoolers-Guide-Killing-Monsters-Seaside-ebook/dp/B0BQX8F8GM/?_encoding=UTF8&pd_rd_w=ZciS8&content-id=amzn1.sym.579192ca-1482-4409-abe7-9e14f17ac827&pf_rd_p=579192ca-1482-4409-abe7-9e14f17ac827&pf_rd_r=138-3500781-4173467&pd_rd_wg=AUYL8&pd_rd_r=330d6e58-1e76-4dec-8119-bb506340ad63&ref_=aufs_ap_sc_dsk) ​

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17b1850/my_school_just_went_on_lockdown_the_school/

scarystories

Dead-Bowl-4572

Smoky and the Bus Tokens

Smoky was a wanderer. He had been hopping trains for the last ten years, give or take. He had grown up in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma in a trailer park that proudly stated on the entry kiosk, “The World’s Best Trailer Park.” This had always made him chuckle. He had to look for things to laugh at, cause ever since he was a young kid, his good ol’ dad liked to get good and liquored up and whoop his ass. Smoky always told himself he would get the fuck out of that shithole trailer park and hopped his first train at seventeen. Now, at 27 years old, Smoky was ready to make some money and buy a nice camper to live in. He had about $3,000 in his pocket and decided to hop a train out of Oklahoma City to where the real money was: Tulsa. In all his years of train hoppin, he had never managed to go there. He had heard that Tulsa was a picturesque community where jobs were readily available, people were accepting, and the weather was quite lovely and predictable. Joe Bob Marquee, the man who told him this, was a bit of an over-exaggerator but Smoky found him to be mostly trustworthy. “What the fuck,” he thought. “Might as well.” Smoky decided to take Joe Bob’s advice and one October day hopped an early morning train, heading northeast to the promised land. He spent about 20 minutes preparing a place in the train car to relax. Smoky was a man of comfort. If he was gonna be somewhere, he may as well be comfy. He constructed himself a nice pallet out of his sleeping bag and favorite small pillow. He was about to open a can of vegetable stew for breakfast when he heard a loud grinding rumble, and the train began to slow. As far as he knew, (he had checked the itinerary earlier) this train wasn’t scheduled for any stops. “Goddamit,” he thought. “I hope this shit ain’t the end of the line.” Smoky didn’t want to walk the further 50 miles. He was ruggedly refined and spry, but his shoes were falling apart, his feet calloused. He inched toward the train door, peering out carefully and quietly. “I wouldn’t do that if I was you!” came a high pitched, gruff voice. Smoky about jumped out of his fuckin skin. He spun around and was confronted by a small, rotund, smiling little woman sporting a bad dye job and holding a cane as tall as her. “Bad people been pokin around trains lately. They lookin for someone, I think,” she said, waving her cane enthusiastically. Her eyes were bugging out of her fuckin skull. “Goddamn! You scared the shit out of me!” he said. “I checked this car, where were you hidin’?!” “Right there.” She pointed with her cane to the back corner. There was a pile of old boxes, clothing, and other debris. “I was nappin’ right there! I wasn’t even hidin or nothin. Mmph.” She grunted. The old lady, in her state of general dishevel, had blended right in with the random shit in the corner. Smoky made a mental note to do a better room check the next time he got his ass on a train. “What you mean? What kinda people? Who they lookin for?” asked Smoky. “Ohhhhh, they lookin for all kinda people. They love findin us. They love takin us. They love kil….” Her eyes crossed as she drifted off, leaving Smoky wondering what the hell she was talking about. “What the hell you talkin about?” asked Smoky. “Them motherfuckers lookin for us. Open your goddamn ears! If they find you, it’s this,” she dragged her pointer finger across her neck, pleasantly demonstrating a throat being slashed. “What, they gonna poke my neck?” he asked. “Dumbass, they gonna kill yo fuckin ass!” she hollered. Smoky, who had never been called razor sharp himself, pictured a razor-sharp razor, held by some ghostly, mysterious dark figure, gently cutting through his neck like butter, leaving him spouting out blood forcefully every which way. He had to get the fuck out of there. “If you wanna live, get the fuck outta here,” she said, spitting small flecks onto Smoky’s cheek. He did not know whether to wipe the spittle away or not, as he did not want to appear rude. But Jesus H., Covid changed him and he was feelin pretty grossed out. On one hand, acknowledge the spittle on his cheek and potentially embarrass this lady, or ignore it and get Covid. What a fuckin dilemma. Maybe he could turn around, then--- “Hey dumbass! Did you hear me?! Get yo ass the fuck out of here!” yelled the woman, this time absolutely saturating his face with the force of 1000 super soakers. “LEAVE!!!!” bellowed the woman in a guttural, growly grunt. “Fuckin gross,” Smoky thought to himself as he swiftly opened and bolted out of the door on the opposite side of the train car. He leapt gracefully, landing a good 10 feet away into a forward somersault. He was still enjoying a youthful physique, ignorant to the universal ailments of aging. He continued out of the somersault into a determined sprint, dodging bushes and trees and jumping small streams. He went to jump over a possum rootin around and accidentally kicked the poor bastard. He felt like Usain Bolt. He was sure he was in the clear and turned around to take a peek behind him when BOOM. He was clotheslined and landed plum on his back, getting the wind whacked out of him. He gasped for air, unable to take a full breath. Smoky looked up and saw two hooded black figures, (“I hate when I’m right”) oddly smelling faintly of coleslaw, approaching him slowly from his right side. He had run into a fuckin tree branch. “Gotta remember to keep your eyes on the fuckin ball man,” he told himself. The black figures continued approaching menacingly, eventually coming to stand a foot away from him. The taller of the two raised their hood, and a terrifying, blinding light radiated out of where their face should have been, absolutely frying Smoky’s eyes. A deafening shrieking roar reverberated around the countryside. Smoky was transfixed, held to the blinding gaze of this random ass person. He was vaguely aware that he was dying. “This is bullshit!!” he cried. Quickly, suddenly, Smoky disintegrated into nothingness, leaving behind only smoke. Like his name. Smoky. In his stead, there was a neat pile of bus tokens, gleaming in the hushed October sun. And a possum walking unconcernedly into the distance.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17b5a8k/smoky_and_the_bus_tokens/

scarystories

TomSizemore69

One of my Haunted Experiences at my Childhood Farm.

I grew up on an old farm built in the late 40’s. The farm wasn’t extremely old, since it got torn down and turned into a suburban neighborhood in 2015. However, my experiences there varied from getting chased by cows, to being chased by Addy. There was a small, old abandoned homestead about 100 yards from my house and that’s where Addy lived. She died in that house before the farm was built and there wasn’t much known about her. A few times a week my friends(who lived on a farm neighboring to me), my brother and I would go to Addy’s house and explore. There was one particular experience that make my bones shiver when I remember it. It was in the evening and the sun was about set while we were in Addy’s house, there were birds and crickets chirping outside and we could hear the creaks as the cold breeze brushed against the house. Suddenly it went quiet, we couldn’t hear the animals chirping anymore and it was as if the wind got louder and harder so we decided to head back home. As we headed out the front door we heard footsteps on the second floor, my friend being smart decided to sprint towards our house but the rest of us stayed put for a second in shock, and like a shot we heard those footsteps stomping swiftly down the stairs and we booked it. We ran inside my house and locked the door behind us . The stairs inside that old abandoned house were open and had no back so you can see people coming up and down the stairs from the front door. I never spoke about it because i didn’t want to scare anyone, but as we heard those footsteps coming down the stairs I could see the silhouette of bare feet and ankles running down through the cracks of the steps.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/16g7hpv/one_of_my_haunted_experiences_at_my_childhood_farm/

TrueScaryStories

Just-Map-5563

There's a chance I was near the murder of a child

It was my 6th grade year. I was hanging out with the daughter of my parents friends. At the time, I had a crush on her, but that's a different thing. At the time, she had a friend of hers, her sister, my sister, and possibly my friends half-sister along with us. We both had a fairly large family. Anyways, if my memory is correct, we just had lunch and was now playing hide and seek. Their house had a large backyard with a thick forest. I chose to go as deep as I could into the forest, knowing they wouldn't even bother to look there. There was one thing that struck me as odd. You see, her parents did set up a wooden bridge since there was a big enough creek connected to their land. Not too big, not too small. But when I walked through, I found... a second bridge. Now, at the time, it never struck me as odd. I just went over it and kept walking. I found a slab of oak wood just thrown in the forest, I can't remember whether or not it was a construction slab or just a piece of something else. I chose to sit on it so I wouldn't touch the dirt and grass and not get my pants dirty. As I sat, there would be a small opening that showed me a nice, beautiful field. A field you could frolic in for days. As I took in the sight, I then heard screaming. Not just any normal screaming, it was a child screaming bloody murder. By the way the screams sounded, whoever it was couldn't of been any older than five. I stood there for a second before getting onto my feet and attempting to get to the sound, but the forest was just too thick. I ended up just booking it back to the house. They've already given up on looking for me and when I explained what happened to my friend, they claimed that there was a shooting range nearby and somebody could've gotten hurt. At first, I believed it... but then it struck me. Why didn't I hear a gun shot? The screams just appeared out of thin air, and from how close they were, I definitely would've heard a gunshot. I would've told the parents, but they weren't there at the time. Later when I did inform both her and my parents about it that night at the bonfire, they looked at me weirdly. They were confused by loads of things, but one part really stuck out to me. That second bridge I found was never put there by them. That wouldn't be the first time I noticed strange activity at that cursed house. Once I heard what sounded like a tornado siren but it sounded distorted and prolonged longer than usual, or when both me and my step-sister found a growing tree just wiggling left and right. It was at the point where wind couldn't blow it, nor was there a draft that night. Nonetheless, I'm not sure whether this was paranormal, someone actually being in danger, or hell, someone trying to lead me into a trap. As far as I'm concerned, I'm the only person who was close to this, and nobody ever takes me seriously.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/16eojmc/theres_a_chance_i_was_near_the_murder_of_a_child/

TrueScaryStories

One_Preparation_3009

My dead relative visited me?

I have many stories, both with 'ghosts' and just scary/weird/dangerous but the thing that has always given me the most chills is when I was about 13. We had just been to the funeral of a beloved relative and at every funeral you get a little card with a pictures and all of the songs and texts that were on the funeral. I was in the kitchen with my back turned towards the most hated door in our apartment, it was that hated because it was almost impossible to open. It was old and heavy and for some reason, I needed to weigh down with my body weight when trying to open it. I was standing there looking at that funeral card when I get a feeling to just look back and as I do, I hear the handle starting to get pushed down. I WATCH the handle get pushed down and the door slowly creaks open. I just had this feeling that it was him, he heard me when I was thinking of him and he decided to play a trick on me like he used to. I looked around the apartment, I was home alone.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/16eeywk/my_dead_relative_visited_me/

TrueScaryStories

No-Cartographer1386

My twin brother, and our strange dream

Sorry if I don't write so well in English but it's not my first language, I'm Italian. A long time ago, my twin brother and I were eight years old and played games on our father's computer. We were little, we liked monsters, horror movies, halloween masks, anything that satisfied our Creepy curiosity. in all these years, even now, although my brother and I are twins, we have never had any paranormal harmony, indeed, everything was normal. At the time we lived at our grandmother's house and we didn't have a room in common, I slept in the bed with my parents and he slept in the bed with my grandmother, in another room. it was a Saturday evening, we had seen something on the computer together and we went to sleep, we were a little late because since we didn't go to school the next day, we could easily sleep a little more I lay in bed and I remember dreaming that I was lost in a park with monsters made of stone, one of the most disturbing was a statue of a monster with black eyes and an open mouth, with long hair and sharp teeth , the sky was gray and I don't remember what else had happened the next day, I told my brother about the dream and he himself interrupted me saying THAT HE DREAMED THE SAME THING: a park of monsters made of stone and a scary monster with black eyes and a deep mouth We got very scared and searched the internet. Wanna know the fucking creepy thing? The park we dreamed about was real and so was that fucking monster! In fact, the park is called "park of monsters" and is located in Bomarzo, right in Italy. The strange thing is that we have never seen that park! We have never been there also because it is very far from our house. But the really bad thing is that that black-eyed, deep-mouthed monster actually exists! It is located inside the park and is called the ogre (you can also see it on google, it's too creepy). It was the only case of telepathy with my brother, dreaming in the same night of a place we've never been, we didn't know existed, both scared of a single monster that exists

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/169clmf/my_twin_brother_and_our_strange_dream/

TrueScaryStories

PekDeek

never waking up in the middle of the night again.

This is a memory i never forgot about because of the confusion i had so i decided i should share bcs it’s odd. Keep in mind i didn’t sleep with no light on during this time so it was completely dark, the only light was the moon’s brightness outside my window , since my curtains are pink see through.I remember it was a few days after my birthday i always get balloons, i was probably 7-9 during this time and i had my own room so i put these balloons in my room since my mom didn’t want them all over the house. I remember going to sleep and waking up randomly in the middle of the night, i didn’t get up i just opened my eyes and looked at the floor and saw a shadow crisscrossing there legs just staring at me, i was scared but i told myself it was my ballon’s because the helium might’ve went down since it’s been 4 days after my birthday. so i didn’t think much of it, i thought it was a dream but i remember opening and closing my eyes during this and still it didn’t move, just staring at me. im laying on my bed frozen because i was scared to move so i decided to check again in the morning. (My balloons were still floating and touching the ceiling once i woke up….)

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/166ik64/never_waking_up_in_the_middle_of_the_night_again/

TrueScaryStories

amorrmel

All because of a PS3

Sorry in advance this may be a long one I want to start off by saying that I am usually very skeptical when it comes to unexplainable things. At least I try to be and it has served me well to keep my cool in otherwise scary situations. However, for the life of me I still cannot find an explanation for what I saw that day. And I’d like to emphasize that this story is 100% real. Like every good story I’m gonna start with some context. Some time back in 2012 I (M) was 14 years old. I had just moved to America the year prior without my parents so was staying with my uncle for the time being. This particular uncle was the youngest of all his siblings. All that to say that we weren’t that far apart in age, he was around 21 which in my eyes made him the cool uncle. We had the same sense of humor and similar interests etc. why is this important? Well imagine being 21 and single and suddenly you have to start taking care of a 14 year old. Needles to say he didn’t stop his partying life just because I was around. So sometime in that year my uncle started “seeing” this girl let’s call her Ann. He’d go over to Ann’s apartment after work all the time to hookup and then come back to sleep at the house then repeat the next day. Well he wanted to start spending the night at her place and planned to go spend the weekend with her. but because I was living with him and with the whole being new to this country thing he didn’t want to just leave me home alone. What was his solution? To ask me to go spend the night at her apartment too of course. She was older and had a very nurturing personality and had a 3 bedroom apartment to herself so she didn’t mind at all. She even encouraged it. Hell I wouldn’t be surprised if it was actually her idea to have him ask me. I wasn’t super thrilled about the arrangement. Not because of how awkward it could be but because of how boring the whole thing was gonna be for me. back then I didn’t have a smartphone or a gaming console or anyone to buy them for me. I did have a laptop but she didn’t have Wi-Fi. So In the middle of the week when I went to hang out with a friend he actually agreed to let me borrow his PS3 for the weekend. It was actually his older brother’s who wasn’t staying with them at the time and he had an Xbox so he really didn’t care. So long as I brought it back in one piece of course. So the weekend comes and we head over to her apartment. They’re actually more like townhouses connected together by a wall. Specifically this is a low income housing complex and it has a terrible reputation in our small town for being the easiest spot to get whatever drug you wanted. The reason this matters is because when we got there there was actually a couple fighting outside her unit and upon parking in front of them they went inside. I found this odd because my uncle told me Ann lives by herself. So as it turn out both Ann’s sister and her boyfriend had just gotten out of jail the day before and we’re staying with Ann for some time. But because we were staying the night they were gonna spend the night elsewhere but they hadn’t left yet. So we go in meet everybody. The sister and boyfriend look exactly like you’d expect from someone with heavy drug use and smoking. The boyfriend in particular stood out to me cause it’s the first time I had seen someone with a face tattoo in real life. Anyway I let the “adults” mingle meanwhile I go to the leaving room to hook up the PS3 and pretty much stay on it the whole time. Must’ve been around 11pm when the other couple finally left and my uncle and Ann went upstairs to their room to “take care of business”. Eventually I too went upstairs to the room I was staying at. I laid down and took out my laptop and I think I started playing plants vs zombies or some other half baked flash game I had available offline I don’t quite remember. About an hour goes by and I start hearing some commotion downstairs. A lot of noise and some talking. It was loud enough that I could hear it upstairs but didn’t wake up my now asleep uncle and Ann. I thought it was odd because it was only the 3 of us so I didn’t know who could be downstairs making all this noise so I figured “oh maybe Ann’s sister and her bf came back and they’re doing whatever downstairs” so I didn’t pay much attention to it. That was until I remembered the PS3. I had left it downstairs hooked up to the tv living room. Now listen I’m not one to judge a book by its cover but I found it a little sketchy that they left and came back when everyone was asleep so I didn’t want to leave it downstairs because I was afraid of it being stolen by whom I thought were sketchy people SPECIALLY when the ps3 wasn’t mine and I knew if it got stolen I was gonna have to pay my friend for it. I debated wether to go downstairs and get it or not. I thought if I went downstairs just to get the ps3 and went back upstairs it may come off as rude to them. I didn’t want them to think I thought they were gonna steal it (even tho I did). After thinking on it for a while I finally decided it “screw it, idc if it comes off as rude, I’m not about to pay for it if anything happens to it” meanwhile this whole time the loud noises can still be heard but I couldn’t really make up any voices anymore. I finally make up the courage to head downstairs and as soon as I open the door from the bedroom I find it super odd that everything is dark. If there was people downstairs I figured they’d have the lights on and you can see the downstairs light reflection on the stairway. I get to the stairway and still everything is dark but the noise feels louder. I could tell the noise is coming from the kitchen. The way the house is set up is you have to go through the kitchen in order to get to the living room. So I start walking into the kitchen slowly not sure of what I’m about to find and when I’m finally close enough to peak in what I see… well I’m not sure how properly describe it in a way that it’ll do it justice. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING that was sitting on the kitchen counters and the stove was moving? I’m talking about pans, pots, knives, all kinds of utensils, condiments, sauces, the dish rack, all the things on top of the stove bell even the oven mitts and the pans hanging from the hooks on the wall they were all moving and shuffling bouncing up and down as if doing some weird kind of dance. Try holding your phone or keyboard make it hit the table on both ends back and forth really fast like in a seesaw motion. That’s what all of these things were doing. Let me reiterate, all of these unanimated objects were bouncing up and down so loudly that I could hear it upstairs as if they had a live of their own. I’m aware of how ridiculous that sounds and I have no proof of it but I swear on my life this is true. This was happening only in the kitchen for some reason… so what did I do upon seeing this possibly supernatural event happening right in front my eyes you ask?… nothing. Not right at the moment anyway. I think to myself “huh that’s kinda weird” I then head over to grab the PS3 walk again past the possibly alive kitchen and then go upstairs back to the room as it nothing happened… it wasn’t until I got back to the room that I thought “holy shit wait a fucking minute something ain’t right here”. And I could feel the fear starting to set in. I was always a little slow, but I have no idea why I didn’t react right there and then. Maybe it was my brains way of protecting me or I just couldn’t compute it right away. Immediately I got in bed and got under the blanket (cause ghosts can’t get under the blanket right?) and started hyperventilating for a while until I calmed down and eventually fell asleep. The following morning after waking up I head downstairs. I do t really wanna say anything right away but as we were about to head out I told my uncle what happened. He kind of laughs it off at first. It’s kind of hard to grasp how terrifying that was because it wasn’t some kind of apparition or demon thing. But I repeat to him what happened and I tell him I’m not joking around that actually happened. His demeanor changed and he headed back inside to tell Ann what happened. She tells him about how similar things had happened to her and her sister just the day before in that apartment but she didn’t wanna say anything as to not freak us out. She said she’s heard voices, she’s even heard a voice call her name and stuff like that, but never see actual physical objects moving on their own. She then proceeded to tell us a story about how sometime ago a child had fallen off the flight of stairs, and died after breaking their neck in one of the units in that complex where she lived. I don’t know how true that is and it’s probably just a way to justify the fear but regardless, that’s the story she told us. To this day I have no idea what happened. I truly believe there’s no logical explanation for what I saw that night. And needless to say I never went back to that apartment.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/166hlux/all_because_of_a_ps3/

TrueScaryStories

Larrymenta_

Mansion

Hello everyone I'm Leena and here is a dream I had of a mansion. Now tbh idk who is truly on here, but I may get in trouble for this. So one night I had a dream that I was on a haunted ghost tour with my little nephew and a small random group. We stopped at one particular mansion and they said no one ever comes out. That the energy is super strong there. I felt it immediately and I fell into a trance staring into a window of the mansion and I didn't see anything. Then the ghost tour guide said we could enter. Everyone else went into the Iron gates, except I was hesitant. I slowly walked towards the gate as everyone else was already inside. Before I could go through the gate my little nephew grabbed my arm and pleaded me to not go. I listened and stopped and we walked away. When I looked at the window again there were 3 figures watching me. I quickly grabbed my nephew's hand and we walked away. Crazy enough we woke up at the same time hand in hand and looked at each other. Later I found out who those individuals were. And they weren't human, nor were they the ghosts of that abandoned mansion. I cannot say just in case an anything is looking for them til this day. I refuse to get involved again.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/165ih6b/mansion/

TrueScaryStories

oracle_123

Empathic? Right

Hello so tell me this isn't bizarre. I knew my whole life I was gifted and it put me into the mental hospital. I hate my visions sometimes because it's sad and it hurts that someone might die before their time to me. I also had to learn how to block others emotions out. Back in high-school it was normal day, but I felt like I was going to pass out and couldn't breathe and my heart was racing and my chest was in immense pain. Literally a few seconds later, principal called me into the office and everything stopped. When I finally made it to the office my sister was there to take me to our mother who was in the hospital because she was short of breath, about to pass out with serious chest pain. I tried to tell my family what was going on and was glad my mother was fine, but no one would listen until the day my friend's dad died. I had a vision of his death. The story is on my page. It hurts to recall this incident. Another time I had a good day, also in high-school, I had a great day was in a great mood. All of a sudden, I felt angry, depressed and just mad. I didn't know why. When I went home the feeling of anger finally leaving me. That same second my besie called me and said she was mad and proceeded to tell me why. I told her how I was feeling and she said OMG you felt my emotions. Another high-school incident was involving my best friend's little brother. I was doing my homework and all of a sudden, my right wrist started itching and burning. I was like omfg I started to scratch to scratch it. Only one big whelp was forming across my wrist. Just then my bestie called and said guess what my dumb-a brother did to get out of jail. I told her before she could finish. I said he slit his right wrist. She was like how did you know and then proceeded what her idiot brother did to get to that point. Bad boys right ugh There's sooo many. I tried to find help and guidance because more and more strange things kept happening. Like my first haunting. Any thoughts?

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/165i8z7/empathic_right/

TrueScaryStories

oracle_123

Scary anecdotes

So I collected some stories from some friends and my gf and I would like to share them here and know your opinion. These are my girlfriend's anecdotes: 1: One night, while trying to sleep, she heard noises at her door and as if something was climbing onto her table. As that was happening, the room grew darker. After a while, she heard that thing leaving. 2: When I was trying to sleep with her after getting into bed, she claimed to see something peeking on the shelf above us. 3: Once, she felt like someone was sleeping next to her. 4: Sleep paralysis: She saw something in her room while being unable to move, but according to her, it wasn't a typical case of sleep paralysis. 5: She felt something moving on her bed, like a cat. The most recent anecdote is first one (a few days ago) and the oldest is the last one. According to her, there's a ghost in her house (there are more stories, but that's enough). I don't believe in ghosts, but I don't think she's lying to me. I need to know if anyone has experienced something similar and what your opinions are. Now let's move on to the anecdotes from my friends: The first one told me that one night he saw white lights in the forest. According to him, they didn't seem like artificial lights (I suppose he means they were from something natural like fire or a reflection), they were barely noticeable and lasted only a few seconds. They moved slowly. When he moved, the lights stopped, and seconds later, they turned off. When he moved again, the lights reappeared but red, and he ran away. This one is a bit more special. A buddy who usually spends summers on the outskirts of a village told me how from time to time, remains of dead animals would appear. No one was concerned until people started to talk about a nearly whole flock of dead sheep. That in itself is quite strange, but the worst it just becames worse. A bull was found dead in the middle of a crop field. The weird part is that there are no bulls or cows near the area (there were tracks and signs of a struggle, but the trail disappeared near a secondary road). On the same day, a neighbor told him how some men in suits loaded the bull's remains onto a truck and left while the police were talking to some neighbors. For safety reasons, I won't reveal information about the last part, but all these anecdotes have occurred in Spain. I hope they have been of interest to you, and I look forward to your opinion. Have a good night.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/164pvey/scary_anecdotes/

TrueScaryStories

Low_Tie_8388

“Mommy’s Car is Gonna Get a BooBoo”

My mother told me that when I was a little girl, about 3-4 years old I lived with my young parents in an apartment. My mom worked at a nursing home, and would leave every morning and come back every night. One morning, I ran up to her saying “mommy no go, mommy’s car is gonna get a boo-boo” over and over. She of course thought I was just being a silly kid and said not to worry and that she would be okay. So she went to work and came back later on, nothing amiss. The next morning came, and I ran up to her saying the same “mommy’s car is gonna get a boo-boo” except this time, I was more frantic and hugging on to her. The same as the morning prior, she said that there wasn’t anything to worry about and that she’d be okay, and finally she consoled me and she was off to work. Again nothing peculiar happened, and everything went as usual. Now the next morning, I was hysterical, repeating the same thing “mommy no go, mommy’s car is gonna get a boo-boo”. This time I was dragging from her ankles, and wouldn’t let her leave. I was crying and screaming and wouldn’t let go of her, my father had to come peel me off of her as she left for work. That night on her way home from work she was at an intersection, and the light was red. She was going to make a left, and when it turned green she went to go, but for some reason she remembered my freak outs for the past 3 mornings and described that she heard my words in her head “mommy’s car is gonna get a boo-boo” and so she stopped and did not go at her green light. All of a sudden a truck came barreling through the red light from the left side of the intersection, and just missed my moms car. She was stunned, she looked up at the light, and it was still green, then looked around and made her left. Shaken, she pulled over after making the left. She was emotional because If she had gone and made her left when the light first turned green and hadn’t remembered what I said, her drivers side would have been creamed by this truck barreling through the red light at the intersection, which most likely would have killed her or put her in critical condition. She pulled herself together, then proceeded to make her way back home. The next morning when she when to leave for work, I put up no fight and only said goodbye and that I loved her. Could be a strange coincidence, what do you guys think?

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/161y86j/mommys_car_is_gonna_get_a_booboo/

TrueScaryStories

Gullible-Patient-126

Scientology, The Sex Star and The Copycat Suicide

Sometime after this weekend when I get a chance I’ll take a few minutes to post one called “Scientology, the Sex Star and the Copycat Suicide” The story will just blow your mind. It involves some mid level Scientogists in the Tampa area that helped craft a porn star they were grooming for all the VIPs for their Flag Base Headquarters. A pivotal part of the story will be a place called Shooters World in Tampa, Google image it. Anyway a gay porn star recently passed away, he was in over 20 movies by the time he was 21 and the people from Scientology Ubered him to his first porno shoots and were complicit. The guy blew his brains out to a Linkin Park song on YouTube but the song he was playing before that was a Nirvana song. It was the 8th Murder Suicide of Tampa by May of last year all by gun btw. There are two articles online claiming the eighth suicide. The article to look for that is pretty buried but is the one where they don’t find the bodies for a few days. The porn star pumped nine rounds through the relative during a live stream to someone he was having a kill fantasy with and then turned the gun on himself. When the neighbors were interviewed in the apartment complex about a week later one stated they thought it was just someone’s video game up too loud, another said they thought it was children running in a stairwell. This young man who died at 22 said the Church of Scientology only made things worse as far as trying to figure out his life. They fished him out of a Tampa Starbucks where he was playing a video game he was addicted to called Fortnite and was homeless at the time but they housed him right away and within days he was Ubered on a regular basis to the airport by the Scientologsits for porn shoots and for human trafficking. I won’t name the Sex Star but the name the pornographers gave him they would sometimes reverse the first or last name so sometimes his first name was his last and other times his last name was his first. Go to any gay porn website and you should be able to figure out who it was. There is alot to unpack in that story and is layered, but you will never look at Scientology the same again after knowing fully the entirety.Also I have info on Shelly Miscavige as well, let’s just put it this way, she is no longer skinny. It’s partially for vanity purposes that she is being kept out of the public eye. She was in Aruba for awhile on the empty Freewinds but could be elsewhere now, as that was a year ago. More subjects to come soon

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/162k6ul/scientology_the_sex_star_and_the_copycat_suicide/

TrueScaryStories

Party_Dance8425

My Little Sister and I are Convinced We Met the Devil

Okay, so.. I’m staying in [a Canadian big city], traveling with my little sister. It’s Summer and the weather is *gorgeous.* I’m going to say we were walking down [the street] when this encounter happened, but I’m not entirely sure about that, to tell you the truth. All this was two or three years ago now. There are details that I’ll remember until the day I die; but the rest has already begun to fade. We stopped at a dispensary to buy some pre-roll’s, then the two of us parked ourselves on the sidewalk and went to smoke them. We were close to our hotel and once we got there, we knew there’d be an elevator ride between us and our addiction, so we were planning to stand around a while and chain-smoke for a bit. I’ve got my lighter in my hand, but I haven’t ignited it yet… Wait, before I continue, I may have to describe this lighter to you, because it actually might matter — in some terrifying, symbolic way. I’d just bought it in anticipation of these pre-roll’s, maybe a half-hour before meeting the man I believe to be the Devil. The lighter had a Kieth Haring print on it, often called *‘The Three-Eyed Monster’*. Here’s an explanation I just cut-and-pasted from Google: *The “Smiley Face” is another frequently used character found in many of Keith Haring's works. This icon, the three-eyed face, is a mysterious figure, often associated with greed and excess. Alternatively, this character has been used to represent the unknown.* Okay, back to the story... I’ve got my lighter in my hand, but I haven’t ignited it yet. The *exact* moment I flick the flame, I see a suited man exiting the *Five Guys* we’re standing in front of. My first thought, the moment I saw him, was: *but he doesn’t eat.* When I recalled that thought later on, safe in our hotel, it made my skin feel cold all over. The suited man acknowledges no one as he storms out of the burger joint, he simply raises his hand high, as if hailing no taxi in particular, and demands: *“lighter!”* This aloof behaviour is kinda bemusing to me, so I wave at the suited man, offering the service of my lighter. He walks toward us slowly, much too deliberately, and the two of us already begin to recoil at little at his aura. His suit is *meticulous*. I’ve never seen a fabric exactly like it. It’s a dark blue colour, with thin, silver threads. A 10-20K suit isn’t a strange thing to see in [the big city], but this one stands out, somehow. I hate including this detail in my story, because it seems like the most hack way a writer would describe the Devil’s attire, but I have to, because it feels important to be honest about it. *(Continued in Comments…)*

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/160t2ee/my_little_sister_and_i_are_convinced_we_met_the/

TrueScaryStories

im_a_scallywag

Someone follows me and observes me in the forest

I went on vacation to France as I am French I went to the forest. but parents wanted to leave after 1am I negotiated with my parents to stay alone they seder there my leave with my phone my amake is water after thirty minutes alone. I felt myself watching I left and I felt followed is watching. descending from the forest I arrived in fields with a white van. so i arrived at the east village when i looked in the field with my white van and i see a man waving at me smiling

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/15y0zmz/someone_follows_me_and_observes_me_in_the_forest/

TrueScaryStories

ConsequenceFar1660

University visiting turn into the a horrible night 😨

Here I will tell you a terrible moment happened to me and my family (it is real, not a joke): It happened to me before 2 days (19 August 2023), where we wanted to visit my big brother new University, it was like 30 km away from our apartment, we were there like 7 p.m because we were busy, we didn't know that zone (it was our first time), so we used Google maps (i call it GPS), when we reached it, we done what we wanted to do, I was with my mother, father and 3 brothers in a car, after that, we wanted to return home (it was like 8.30 p.m) and we used again Google maps, but suddenly after following its instructions, we found ourselves in a place that look like a desert, it was dark to see, and no one was there to help us, we stated to panic a little, but then we found the road that Google maps told us to go, you would say "what's scary in that?", can you guess what we entered? Not a graveyard, or abandoned tunnel, no, we found ourselves in an abandoned village, What made It scarier was the darkness around us, and knowing it was a slaughter one day, which was used by the terrorists to stop the cars, steal and kill who were in it, it was abandoned and no lights can be seen, keep In mind that we were all in the car and no one knows that we just passed through this way, but thanks to God, we managed to find a way out and came back to our home safely, but I will never forget this terrifying night 😔😰 Thanks for reading this, I appreciate it and don't forget to tell me if the same thing happened before to you 😞

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/15x8uio/university_visiting_turn_into_the_a_horrible_night/

TrueScaryStories

BossComprehensive654

New update

Okay last post was interesting this is a new update. So I was fixing my craft room and I accidentally broke my laptop (that is a different story) but, When I picked it up I noticed that the ESC button was missing so I looked around I found it but when I did the morse code machine went off this time it was just gibberish. I then was like okay so I left it alone the day after that my computer was fixed then I found out most of my computer files were deleted or in the wrong place. I then fixed it up when I finished a bird ran into my window (it is alive) but it scared me then all of a sudden my morse code machine went off and it said “black birds hitting a window can be a sign of death” So I am freaking out I will keep you all updated.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/15wfi91/new_update/

TrueScaryStories

crazy_geek123

the hell hound

I was 9 and I normally sleep down the stairs on the couch because we did not have a enough rooms so when my sister was at my grandmothers house so I slept in her room up the stairs. I had a big day so I went to sleep early and I woke up at 2 am or 3am I was facing the wall and I heard a chewing sound like when a dog is chewing on meat so I turned over and I see a dog figure I started screaming and crying not knowing what it was my sister came in saying are you all right and I just pointed at the thing and my sister said there is nothing there I saw a three headed dog since i have doged death about 11 times

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/15v1mmi/the_hell_hound/

TrueScaryStories

MushroomImmediate155

I saw god in my dream

I know it's a stretch to say I saw god but you have to hear me out. I myself do not believe in a god of any kind so I'm not very convinced but damn this made me rethink shit. So it was just a normal day nothing special, got home, had dinner, went to bed. This was last night. My dream started (or I remember it starting) in a forest type area, reminded me of Alaska. I can remember walking by a large lake, just peacefully strolling until I saw it, a tall scrawny creature on all fours. It had long skinny arms and legs with grey skin and it's spinal column is pushing up against the skin. You can see it's ribs and hip bone like a sick dog. It had a long neck that reached down to my Hight and its face. It's face was just three black circles, they looked like they had been drawn on it with a broken pen. Two at the top and one at the bottom like three black voids that only just managed to make the vague shape of a face. I could feel the energy from this thing, like it's power was effecting the world around it. Vibrating reality just by existing. It spoke to me but instead of hearing it I could more feel it's voice in my head. This is what I remember it saying: "you are nothing, I am god" then it said something like "dayoost adesteh" I have no clue what that means but it said it. Right after that I woke up in a sweat, my back and forehead drenched with anxiety sweat. I don't think it was just another nightmare or dream because this shit has stuck with me, I cannot get it out of my head. Whatever this thing is, it does not like humans. The only energy I could possibly pick up off of this creature was hatred. It was evil. And it is coming.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/15umn6m/i_saw_god_in_my_dream/

TrueScaryStories

0jumble_tumble0

I feel like I've been cursed--and I'm scared.

It all started May 18th, it was a Monday in 2020. I woke up, drank my cup of coffee with some creamer and two Splenda packets, and went outside to scroll through Tiktok before getting ready for work. I walk outside on my porch, and see a dead cat just laying there. It white cat, with these orange and black splotches on its back and face. It was sprawled out as if it was basking in the sun, then suddenly died. It looked pretty peaceful, and I felt bad, so I went and dug a big enough hole in my back yard and put it in there. I went to work like normal, and didn't think too much of it. But, I woke up the next day and did the same things I do everyday, except when I walked outside there was another dead cat. This time, It was a bit bloody, and I could see a slice on its back that indicated it had been attacked by something. It was a brown cat, I felt kind of sick at the sight of it. Still, I dug up a hole beside the other hole I made for the last cat and put the next cat in. That night, I heard meowing all night long, but I ended up falling asleep fast. Since that Monday, more and more dead cats have showed up on my porch, they have become so much more gruesome. Sometimes it is not the whole cat, just the head or torso. The meowing has become more and more loud, and it has become more and more difficult to sleep at night. I set up cameras, but they never catch anything, the cats kinda just show up. Tonight is the worst, all I can hear is meowing, and it is impossible to sleep. I'm currently curled up in a ball typing this, it is so hard to focus. What should I do about this?

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/15u9e2z/i_feel_like_ive_been_cursedand_im_scared/

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