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intone 4

I don’t know if you would call this sleep paralysis…but part 2

So. I had a part one and I talked about how I couldn’t move or speak and hoped I wouldn’t happen again. Well it did, only this morning. It was about 4am. I was half away and then I feel like someone is laying on top on me and I couldn’t move or speak. I tried to pray and I didn’t go away. It didn’t last long but definitely was the scariest one yet. I tried to stay calm but couldn’t. Also I haven’t changed to sleep schedule but probs might now.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tqouwh/i_dont_know_if_you_would_call_this_sleep/

TrueScaryStories

[deleted]

I think I may have seen some children escaping from a kidnapping.

Growing up my school was about five kilometres from my home, I had to walk it because my parents would work until 7pm everyday. The walk would go through a huge forest. I can probably count the number of times I encountered anyone through this forest on one hand. This specific time has always stuck in my head and looking back I think I may have seen a kidnapping or some children trying to escape a kidnapping. I was 12, it was late spring time and very hot out. I was on my way home and had probably been walking for one maybe two kilometres, when I noticed a group of boys walking my way. The boys had no clothes on at all, and were carrying what looked to me like a bat, the animal, not the sports equipment. There were 3 of them, 2 were around the same age as me, one looked a little younger. They looked flushed and sweaty, as if they had been running or walking for a while, they were almost dragging the younger boy along he seemed like he needed to rest. I just froze, and looked at them confused. They were speaking a language I didn’t understand, I can speak both Spanish and English, so it was neither of them. The two older boys had olive skin with dark hair, while the younger one was more pale and blonde. One of the older boys tried to talk to me, but as I said I couldn’t understand whatever language they were speaking. I said to him in both Spanish and English “No puedo entenderte”, “I can’t understand you”. He seemed confused, but he didn’t waste any time. He pointed at the big 1L water bottle I had in my backpack’s side pocket and shook his fists by his chest, as if he was begging me. I gave him the bottle and he made sure the younger boy drank first. They finished off the water I had left in there, and nodded their heads as if to say ‘thank you’ before carrying on the way they were going. I kept on walking home, but I felt creeped out by whatever I had just witnessed. After another kilometre or two, I saw a man. He was tall and thin and looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He was pale, but pale in a way that he looked ill or sick. Looking back, I think he may have been on something, but that didn’t click for me at the time. When I saw him I tried to keep my head down and keep walking but he stopped me. In broken Spanish he said to me that he was looking for his little brothers, they were lost and asked if I had seen them. I shook my head, he said ‘gracias’ and carried on walking. I tried my hardest to walk normally, but as soon as he was out of sight I ran and I didn’t stop running until I reached my home. Once my parents got home I told them what had happened, they shrugged it off and told me I shouldn’t worry. When I insisted I was serious, my dad promised me he would call the police in the morning and tell them what I had seen. If my dad did call them I was never called in for further questioning, no police asked me for descriptions or anything. My dad swears he reported it, but I have doubts. I just wish they would have taken me seriously.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tptnyu/i_think_i_may_have_seen_some_children_escaping/

TrueScaryStories

throwaway-xerty

Have you guys ever heard of the Loveland Frogman? Or even the Mongolian Deathworm? Many people believe in crazy forms of Cryptids but what do you think?

Cryptids baby!!! In this weeks episode we take a load off and explore the crazy world of Cryptids! Come find out about the fight to the death as we discuss the winner between the Loveland Frogman and the Mongolian Death Worm. Who’s gunna win on this weeks episode? [stuck in this purgatory](https://open.spotify.com/episode/44KJFSk7wvklJPi0VHsU8o?si=gkRhuQHhTdefGXthXiyY2w)

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tq7x9a/have_you_guys_ever_heard_of_the_loveland_frogman/

TrueScaryStories

Stuckinthispurgatory

Sophomore year, I practically lived at my best friend’s house

We haven’t spoken in years, but me (f15) and my best friend “Ashley” (f15) spent every day together. I was friends with her older sister “Kelly” who was around 17 at the time, and the only other person who lived with them was their dad. Me and Ashley both did online school, so I stayed at her house for weeks on end. Her boyfriend “Brady” lived in the same cul de sac as her and came over almost every day, so naturally all three of us were pretty close. We had a fairly large friend group consisting of our female friends and his male friends. Her dad went out of town for a weekend, so we decided to all chip in on alcohol and have everyone over. The last person to show up was one of Brady’s friends, and he brought two girls who weren’t in the friend group with him. One of these girls brought an ouija board, so almost everyone followed her to Ashley’s basement. None of us besides her really believed in that shit, so all but maybe two or three of us sat around it. When nothing happened we started throwing insults at the board trying to taunt “ghosts” and “demons”, but still nothing happened and we continued on with our nights. By the end of the night it was me, my friend “Kara”, and our older friend “Melissa” sleeping in Ashley’s room, and Kelly was in her room with one of her friends. Kelly and her friend were watching a movie, and everyone but me smoked some of Melissa’s weed before we laid down in Ashley’s room. Half asleep, we started hearing doors slamming from across the hall. We suspected Kelly and her friend until they facetimed us from their room freaking out, doors still slamming in the background. Now that we were sure there was someone in the house, we told them to lock their door, and Melissa pushed a dresser in front of Ashley’s door. We called Brady to come check the house, and at this point the door slamming had moved down to the first floor. Everyone who was high, especially Ashley, was super paranoid and scared. Ashley was having a full blown panic attack. Brady checked the house and found nobody, so we let him in Ashley’s room to calm everybody down. He told us that it was probably the cat (which was in Ashley’s room), but that he would stay with us for a little bit to make sure. I believed him until I got a snapchat from him. Only two words, but they hadn’t even crossed my mind “ouija board”. The conversation went on, and I was fairly confused as I didn’t fully remember much of the night, but basically what he told me was that he didn’t want to freak Ashley or the others out, but that the girl from the party left the ouija board in the basement, because she believed we all fucked up earlier when we messed around with it. Not wanting to scare my friends, I volunteered to do another sweep of the house with him before he left, as I was the “least scared.” Me and Brady left Ashley’s room and made a B-line to her basement. Neither of us believed in this shit, but I had to know and I guess so did he, because we sat next to each other and put our fingers on the planchette. It flew across the board from Z to O to Z. We both had general knowledge on zozo, and even though we didn’t really know what was going on, we tried to move the planchette to say “goodbye”, but it resisted. Both of our hands fell off the planchette as it flew across the board, and it paused for a moment, before slowly moving to the last O. Brady grabbed it and swiped it across “goodbye” and we sprinted up the stairs to the main level. When I got to the top of the second stairs, he yanked me back to the landing and grabbed me by my shoulders. I’ve seen Brady do a ton of crazy shit, and he had a lot of crazy stories, but I think this was the only time I had ever seen him scared, and he looked fucking terrified. He just kept shaking my shoulders asking me “were you fucking moving it?” and I said no, asked him if he was and he said no. We were so scared, but we agreed not to tell any of the others. They made us state our names before letting us back in the room, and they realized that something was up with us, but we didn’t tell him and he went back to his house. I refused to sleep for a long time, I heard noises the whole time. Kelly texted me asking if I heard music, I did, but I told her to go to sleep. I fell asleep at some point, but I woke up with three large scratches on my forearm. Brady came over and together we told them everything. There was a music box in the unfinished part of Ashley’s basement. Ashley thought that we were pranking her, but Kelly believed us. I stayed with Kelly in her room for about a week after. Brady facetimed us one night after Ashley had fallen asleep, saying he had a bad feeling. I got up to use the bathroom and a door slammed. I bolted back to Kelly’s room and on facetime, we watched as an upside down cross cut formed on Brady’s chest. If I hadn’t watched it get larger and worse, literally carving itself into his skin, I would have never believed him, but I did. Weird shit happened all week. Her animals were being weird, the basement door was in various states of open that we never left it in. We burned sage in Kelly and Ashley’s entire house, but when their dad came back he refused to move his office into the basement like he said he would; said it had a bad feeling. I haven’t talked to Ashley, Brady, or Kelly in years, but I remember almost everything about this. It was my one and only experience where I cannot explain it. I don’t know what it was. I don’t know what happened. I haven’t researched anything about zozo because I’m too fucking scared.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tprm5u/sophomore_year_i_practically_lived_at_my_best/

TrueScaryStories

[deleted]

..

Creepy clown sittings where a while back so i thought why not bring it back up after what 5 years ? . it all started on a saturday night at 9:00 PM i was walking home from my friends house at the time i was 14 i had to walk by a bushy woodsy area it wasnt that bad my friend only lived 30 minutes away but i didnt mind the walk as i was walking i could feel the sense of me being watched i was scared for a slight second i continued to walk home as then i heard the sound of foot steps i thought i could have been an animal knew that clowns were around but i lived in pretty nice area and so did my friend i wouldnt have thought there would be a clown in the area it was gtting that sckeetchy feeling to it where i put on my flash light even more brighter i turned around spotted the clown it was wearing a bright striped patterened shirt whith baggy pants i was terrifed i started to sprint and the clown chased after me saying "Hey where ya going? i just wanna play with ya" i was creeped out even more now i ran for about 20 minutes i was only ten minutes away now i looked back i didnt see anything or anyone now i continued to walk again tierd and exuasthed i was out of breath i had walked for a long 5 minutes it seemed like a 4 hour walk i finally made it home i locked the door and kept my mouth shut i didnt plan on telling my mom i knew she wouldnt belive me so i went up to my room on the second story i was still scared i climbed onto my bed as i went on my phone soon after i found myself sleeping i woke up to the sound of tapping on the window i knew exactly what and who it was i looked to the corner to my room and saw a mug i soon opened my window a bit and said not so loud "hey you freak! get lost before i throw this at you" he didnt say anything he just started at me...blankly i closed my window and laided in bed rethinking why would i say that now the sounds came from our front door "bang...bang...bang" this time i was frozen to scared to move i got back the reason to get up and went to my moms room and told her what i saw not what i said she told me that she'd go look at it when she went there she didnt see anything at my window she said maybe ur seeing things maybe you watched a horror movie before at your friends house. i didnt say anything i just went back to bed i woke up again to the sound of something at my room door i thought it was the clown this time it was my mom she had said she heard something bang our house door really loud and loked out the dooor and called the cops she said she wished she belived me before. the cops didnt find the clown even when they searched our yard and area they left after. i havent seen any other clow sittings after that day all thought my mom got an email saying that they had cought a man in a clown suit in the same discription. Anyways My names Kat and thank you for reading my scary clown sitting.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tptitx/_/

TrueScaryStories

Niomixx

Sleepover

When I was young, probably when I was in 2nd grade, I had a sleepover at my friends house. As we were getting ready to go to sleep she went to go check her closet for ghosts or something because she believed it was haunted. I was sitting on her bed watching her do this when I decided to look in her mirror which she had attached to her door. In the mirror I could see a copy of myself in purple pajamas (I was wearing the same pjs but pink) sitting at the foot of the bed smiling widely at me. I blinked and then she was gone.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tpelfn/sleepover/

TrueScaryStories

SpiritHollow

Never babysitting again!

So, this happened a while ago when I was 17, my girlfriend who was 16 at the time was asked if we could babysit for my cousins. We obliged when money was involved, obviously. We went to the house at 2pm, and everything was alright. It came to around 1 am, and we was wondering when they were going to be home, so we tried to message them, however no reply, we thought to ourselves they must be too drunk and should be on their way soon, hopefully. We was warned prior to babysitting that there have been a few things that have occured in the past, such as people threatening to smash the windows, people attemping to kick the door down and get in, and so on. We thought nothing of it at the time and just said to ourselves, it wont happen whilst we are there, we were mistaken. Around 1 am I heard a noise outside, I turned to my girlfriend who was on her phone asking if she heard it, she said "no, you're just hearing things" and I brushed it off. Around 10 minutes later, I was bombarded with glass, a brick had flew straight through the window, landing on the sofa next to me. I went outside to see if I could find the person who did it, however they must of already escaped, or so I thought. A little information about this house, on the left hand side, there was an alleyway, leading into both the backgarden of the house and neighbouring house. It was pitch black, however, being the brave person I thought I was, I turned on the flashlight on my phone to look down it, as I did, I may have shit myself, as I saw someone, in a black hoodie, crouched down in there, we stood there, frozen, staring at each other for what felt like an eternity, before he finally threw himself towards me at full speed, I said to myself "fuck this shit" and ran into the house, locking the door behind me, hands shaking. When I got back in, the kids were already downstairs wondering what had happened downstairs, and my amazing girlfriend was there to comfort all three, telling them its nothing, even though they were old enough to probably know what had happened. She started to clean up the mess whilst I was on the phone to the police, fearing that the person was still waiting outside. The police came within minutes, and took our information, and told us that they would patrol the area, and keep an eye on the house until the morning. About an hour later, the police knocked on the door again, and gestured me to follow him to his patrol car, when I got to the car, I saw a man sat in the back seat, hands cuffed, and was asked "is this the person who smashed the window" I analysed the person from head to toe, and he fit the description I gave to the police entirely. The parents finally got home and was obviously worried for their childrens safety. However the kids were fine, and they thanked us, paid us and we went on our way home, at around 4 am. A few days passed and turns out it was the mothers crazy ex, who had intentions to kill her, however she was not home, and when he was taken into custody, they found a knife in his pocket. I still get chills when I think about the night, what if I had tried to be brave and fight the guy, I would 100% be dead or seriously injured. I know this isn't really scary to most people, but if you've ever been in a similar situation, you'd understand just how terrifying it is.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tp6cqc/never_babysitting_again/

TrueScaryStories

OneNiceAssGuy

Late Night Searching

This happened a few years ago, about when I just turned 14. There was this dog who always would escape their owners home, they were a Dachshund. One day the dog was in my yard when I got home from school. At the time I had no idea who the owner was, or where the dog came from, and I wanted to make sure he stayed safe. My mom and I debated for a small while, and we decided to just keep him until we could find the owner, and because of his color we named him Coffee for the time being. So everyday I let Coffee out to use the bathroom. Most of the time I would let him out in the afternoon to use the bathroom, and most of the time he never came back, and being the kind hearted young man I am, I always went out before or when it was dark to find him. It didn't take me long to realize that he would take a specific path to get to, what I now assume, is his owners house. But because at the time I wasn't really sure that it was his owner, I would take him back to my house. So one night, I went out of my house and called Coffee's name. And like usual he didn't come back, so I decided to go find him. I took the route that I knew I would find him, which was to take a right on the road right in front of my house, and to take the first right, then Coffee was usually right by the stop sign down that road. So without much notice, I just left my house and started walking down the road. As I get around halfway to where I'm suppose to turn, I start to hear guys talking about some controversial gay stuff. "I don't understand why men wear all that make-up, it makes no sense." "Yeah, I don't think men should wear purses and (foggy memory)" Now I myself am gay, but I'm a pretty chill guy, and understand that people have their own opinions, and that's ok. Still though, the conversation make me feel a little weird. As I got closer to the two guys, one of them speaks to me. "Hey baby\~" One of the men said as if trying to assert dominance, trying to make me feel as though they are of higher value than me. I froze in my tracks and slightly glared at the men. They were on the opposite side of the street. Because the only light source at the time was the moon and the street lamp at the point where I was suppose to turn, I wasn't able to see the men very well. I was able to make out that one of them was wearing a cap, and the other man was bald. Both of them were smoking, and I was able to tell that they were drinking. "Hey baby\~" The man in the cap said again in the same tone. The bald man immediately lets out a chilling dry laugh that struck me with slight fear and left me feeling uneasy. A little startled but mostly confused, I didn't say anything to the men. "Are you looking for your doggy?" The man in the cap said in a low tone, again accompanied by his friends chilling laugh. Though the pit in my stomach grew, I somehow got the courage to finally speak. "Uh, yeah, he ran away again.." I said in a surprisingly calm tone "I see you come out here every night- " This comment made the pit in my stomach grow, because I know for a fact that every time I come out to find Coffee the men and the truck that accompanied them were never once at that house. He continues talking about things I can barely remember. All I can remember is the bald guy chuckling as he speaks to me. As the man continues talking to me I slowly walk away from the men, nodding, acting like I'm paring them mind. Soon the man stopped talking to me and wished me luck on finding my dog. I finally get to my turn, and I kid you not the moment I walk under the street light, it bursts. At this point I'm internally freaking out and not entirely able to think clearly, but somehow I'm able to keep relatively calm. Stupidly I didn't bring my phone because the route to find Coffee was really short, so I didn't think I would need to bring my phone. I finally got to where Coffee usually is and even whispered his name a few times, but to my surprise he didn't come. I was debating what route I should take to get back to my house. There was another way to get back that didn't involve seeing those men again, but it's extremely dark and "woods-y" where I live, which means that there was a good chance I would bump into wild life. So I ended up deciding going back the way I came, which was the shorter route anyway. But this time I ran through peoples front yards stealthily and carefully. I passed by the men who hadn't seemed to move from when I first saw them. I finally got to my front yard and I decided to look back at where the men where. They just got in their truck and went all the way down the road I was on. I rushes inside and immediately told my mom what happed. She was slightly concerned, but just told me to not go back out at night again. Not too long after this, my mom called me and told me that she found out that there was one man residing in that home, who was a registered pedophile. My mom urged my to not go back out at night or by myself again. I agreed. I'm 17 now and have my drivers license, and I do still live in the same small town where this incident took place. I drive by that house where I saw the men at every time I go out to get groceries. The weird thing is that there in never anyone at that house. Sadly I don't know what happened to Coffee, I never found him after that night. And I still think of that night from time to time, thinking what would have happened if I was younger, or didn't play my cards right. Or why exactly did that street lamp turn off the moment I walked under it.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tpe70w/late_night_searching/

TrueScaryStories

ZieglerWolf

The sensor bin keeps opening by its self

It’s currently 4am and everyone is asleep in my house. We have a sensor bin and I can here it opening and closing. I know no one is out there, but it’s kinda freaking me out. Like there’s nothing near it that would make it sensor something to make it open. Has anyone had any similar experiences, or knows what it could be?

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tozn3n/the_sensor_bin_keeps_opening_by_its_self/

TrueScaryStories

[deleted]

Avoiding Abduction

I grew up at a pretty good age, just before phones and I-Pads took over childhoods. My friends and I grew up in a small town on Lake Ontario, so we got into all sorts of shenanigans water related, be it jumping off the piers, making huge bonfires by the lake, or one of our favourites, sneaking on the boats. Only the ones out of the water and not in use, they were kept off to the side of the actual marina, down a dirt road that hooked around a densely forested hill. It was early fall so a lot of the boats were out of the water, and the marina was very quiet. I was probably 10 maybe 11 at the time, and my best friend, let’s call him Ron, was about 9. It was late afternoon, and we were on our way to climb onto some boats, the ones that hadn’t been covered for the winter season yet anyway. Another way onto the road from the actual marina was down a pretty steep hill, we would butt slide down it and approach the boats from behind, minimizing any chance of marina staff seeing us. We approached like normal, and Ron began ascending up the metallic scaffold the boat was poised upon. When he reached the top, I began my approach, but upon climbing realized a car, which I can still picture to this day clearly. It was a blue Hyundai, I’m not sure the model or make or anything, I’m not great with cars, but it was a two door style. A man in his early 30s maybe, very (despite my lack of a better term) redneck was sitting inside, just staring at me climbing up this scaffolding. Me, obviously thinking I was in trouble, dropped down and so Ron made his way back down to. I sent an apologetic wave, but the guy only returned a smile, a kinda creepy smile, he began to roll down the window. “Now what are you boys doing?” He asked in a almost sarcastic witty tone. I didn’t really give much of a reply, I wasn’t huge on the talk to strangers thing, mom kinda pounded that one in. I forget exactly what I did or said, but I just remember him laughing and getting out. He did not look at all like marina staff, and he sorta just strolled towards us, and removed cigarettes from his pocket. “You want a smoke?” He asked two 9 and 11 year old kids, like umm? I looked at Ron with a ‘we should leave’ desperation, he was very much feeling to. I don’t remember if I said “no thanks”or just turned, but as we began to walk behind the boats back down the dirt road towards the marina, he kinda strolled behind us and asked a little demandingly if we wanted a ride. At this point obviously we started to book it, it was a fight or flight. I checked behind me to see if he was following, and through the scaffolds of the boat I could see him getting back in his car frantically, then we could hear him, peeling out and around on the rocky dirt road. I knew we couldn’t make it back past the curve and to the marina before him, so I grabbed Ron and we started running the other way, back towards the hill we’d butt slid down. He peeled off much quicker around the bend, and Ron and I flew up this hill faster then should have been possible. We booked it up the road to this tourist centre/gym that had just been built pretty much, and ran inside frantically. Ron was in full on tears, and the two girls working in there jumped right up to attend to us. I remember remaining fairly calm. It was only about 30 seconds into explaining our story that we saw the Blue Hyundai pull in, circle the empty parking lot except for the staffs vehicles, and stop for a second. One of the ladies ran out upon our confirmation of the vehicle, and he peeled off and away down the road. The police were called, and Rons older sister came to pick us up, I don’t remember why but I think my parents may have been out that night for something. Nothing ever came of the police reports or anything though, as far as I know this guy is still around and that’s really horrific to me. Over the years people have tried to argue me, said it was probably a boat owner, or marina staff, but I’d lived there for years, and never seen him before. Plus, it was all just to strange, he didn’t seem to mind us on the boats, offered us smokes and a ride, peeled around to follow us, then pulled into the tourist parking centre, where when almost confronted by a grown up, took off. Anyways, there is my retelling of a story I’ve been meaning to get out for a while, I’m really thankful I was there with Ron, he was much younger and this could have ended very differently. Cheers for listening mates, teach your little ones to stay safe out there, and practice it yourself. Also never trust Blue Hyundais!

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tnzd9c/avoiding_abduction/

TrueScaryStories

Jakeyisbakey

Scary Southerner

Hey guys, I know you see this a lot in here, but I feel like I have something special here. I started a narration channel for scary stories called Scary Southerner. I put a lot of work into my first video. I have other videos on backup, but wanted this to be my first one. It's 4 true scary stories that I actually found on here, from you awesome people. I believe these stories need to be told. Ever since I've started listening to these stories I have become more cautious and vigilant. These are crazy experiences that affect someone's life forever. These stories help us to learn how to react in certain situations. I love horror, and stories. [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0nnYWvGWgYs&t=43s](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0nnYWvGWgYs&t=43s) That's the link to my 4 true scary stories video. I appreciate any support. Love you all. Sincerely, Scary Southerner

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/toh9yb/scary_southerner/

TrueScaryStories

matthinsonjava

Celebrity Horror True or False

I am a published author of Thriller/Suspense novels. Check out my new series on YouTube. Each week I post 3 terrifying stories. One is true and 2 are fiction. This week is Celebrity horror stories. One is fact and 2 were written by me. I will be accepting submissions for future videos. If you have a true or fictional story you would like to appear in a future video, you can send them to [email protected]. If you enjoy the video, don’t forget to like and subscribe. I would truly appreciate it. https://youtu.be/MFjv7JqLaFE

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/toeus3/celebrity_horror_true_or_false/

TrueScaryStories

SheriStJean

Does anyone have or know any scary stories about Highway 491 also known as Highway 666?

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tmsrln/does_anyone_have_or_know_any_scary_stories_about/

TrueScaryStories

StrangeHyena2645

Does anyone have any craigslist or ring security camera stories

Hi if you have a story for my YouTube channel message me. Thx https://youtube.com/channel/UCuQtvyJtb_kq54Awbw42rPw

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tn8azi/does_anyone_have_any_craigslist_or_ring_security/

TrueScaryStories

mrhauntedhouse

The Faceless Pale Man?

One night during a loud thunderstorm I awoken from a strange noise outside. I heard my dog growling at something in the living room. I walked out to tell him to stop. I saw nothing most likely my dog barking at some racoons again. I went into the kitchen to grab a snack. I then noticed something in the backyard. A pale figure walking in my back yard. When a flash of lighting struck I was it. A faceless pale man. He was just staring at me and he placed his hand on the window. He started beckoning me to come outside. I ran instantly into my bathroom and wiped my face with some water. I remembered when I was 6 and my room disappeared. I wasn't going to let my fear of the dark get to me again. I walked back to the window just to see.... He was gone. With a sigh of relief knowing it was just in my head. I don't appreciate these weird occurrences happening to me. Still you never know who or what is lurking out there. Becareful what you wish for.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tmlifo/the_faceless_pale_man/

TrueScaryStories

Psycho_Zombie__2

I'm a Private Investigator in New Orleans, I Discovered a Secret in My Own Family That Made Me Decide to Quit (Part 1)

**Family Reunion** The atmosphere in the car is thick with unsaid words. The streets of New Orleans roll past, the warm glow of the midday sun punctuating the colonial architecture and lively marketplaces. It’s a mild day in late January, the kind that makes you believe spring is just around the corner even when it's months away. As a private eye, I welcome a day off like this. No cases, no mysteries. Just a simple drive to my parents' house for Tết. But as every investigator knows, there’s no such thing as a simple drive. The text I received earlier in the day still looms over me. "We need to talk." That's all the message says. No follow-up text, no response to my requests for elaboration. Nothing good ever starts with those four words. Sitting next to me, Reine, my wife and crime-solving partner, nervously checks herself in the sun visor mirror for what seems like the hundredth time. Her brunette locks cascade down her back in soft waves, contrasting with her porcelain skin. Her gray eyes, deep and enigmatic, dart from the mirror to the scenery outside and back again. Her red lips purse in anxiety. After a decade of marriage, you'd think she'd be accustomed to these visits. Yet she looks more terrified now than she did facing the [Beast](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1581vef/our_search_for_a_missing_teen_uncovered_the/) of the Bayou last summer. "Can you give it a rest? You look fine," I snap, more harshly than I intend to. Reine's eyes lock onto mine, a tempest in her gaze. "Excuse me?" "I mean, you look amazing, Reine,” I say sheepishly, softening my tone. Reine pulls at her dress, her eyes returning to her reflection. "Do I look… fat in this?" Trying to lighten the mood, I quip, “Em, if you were any thinner, you'd be invisible.” Reine's eyes narrow. She doesn't look pleased. I immediately regret my attempt at humor. "I just want to make a good impression, you know?" she murmurs. I glance over at her, my grip tightening on the wheel. "Reine, they’ve seen you hundreds of times. If you haven't made an impression by now, maybe you never will." She shoots me a glare, "You know it's not that simple. It's just... they look at me and I still feel like an outsider. You know how much I want them to like me.” "They do like you, they love you," I reply. "Besides, It's just dinner." She stiffens. "It's not 'just dinner' to me, Ash. It never has been. And you know it." Letting out a deep sigh, I can't contain my frustration. "Why does everything have to be a drama with you?" Her eyes flash with anger. "You're blaming me? Just because I care about how I'm perceived?" "That's not the point. This...this excessive self-consciousness, it’s becoming a problem." I glance at her, regretting my words even before they land. Reine's eyes turn glassy, a mixture of hurt and anger. "Excessive self-consciousness? Really, Ash? Maybe if you'd been a bit more 'self-conscious' during that recent case, things would've turned out differently." I raise an eyebrow, struggling to keep my voice level. "You're bringing up the Daniels case? That's what this is about?" Her nostrils flare, her frustration evident. "You know it's not just about the case. But since we're on the topic, maybe if you weren't so self-absorbed in your ‘methods’, you'd have seen the signs." I scoff, "What signs? That I was following my instincts as I always do?" "Exactly!" Reine exclaims, pointing a finger at me. "Your instincts! Not once did you think about how your actions could affect others. Like when you decided to break into Daniels' office without backup." I snort. "This is rich coming from you of all people, Reine," I say tersely. "Between the two of us, you’ve always been the reckless one. Remember the stunt you pulled last year on the Montgomery case? You almost got us both killed." Reine’s voice lowers, her anger dissolving into vulnerability. "Ash, I’m just saying… maybe we both need to think more about... about consequences, about the future... about...” As the SUV pulls up to a quaint apartment complex, the vibrant figure of our secretary Abby appears at the door. Her eyes widen slightly at the sight of the vehicle, and she hurriedly makes her way, carrying a carefully wrapped dish. I can see something deeper in Reine's eyes, a tremble in her voice, something she’s hesitating to say. But my own frustration blinds me to her subtle attempt to change the conversation's direction. The apartment complex looms larger as we pull into the parking lot, and the sight of Abby, hurrying toward us distracts me further. "Can we please talk about this later?" I beg her, not wanting to cause a scene. Her mouth tightens, and she gives a small, reluctant nod, looking down at her lap. "Fine," she whispers, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between us. "Hey, y’all," she greets cheerily as she gets in, unaware of the stormy atmosphere in the front. “Thanks again for inviting me. I’m so excited!” As she settles into the seat, she can't help but notice the icy silence. "Everything okay?" she asks, her voice hesitant. Reine and I trip over each [other](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MGd1F6Ay8ho) to respond. "Everything's fine," I say. "Absolutely," Reine adds, her tone just a tad too sweet. Abby raises an eyebrow but decides not to push further. "So," she begins, trying to change the topic, "Tet is like Vietnamese Thanksgiving, right? Because I brought a casserole." Reine laughs softly, "Not exactly, chère. It’s more like New Year’s. It's a time for family and to celebrate fresh starts." Seeing an opportunity to lighten the mood, I chime in with a smirk, “You know, our previous secretary made the same mistake. Brought a turkey and everything. We never saw her again after that Tet dinner. What was her name? Louise? It’s still our most mysterious [cold](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/14c93t1/im_an_arctic_researcher_we_accidentally_released/) case.” Abby’s face pales, but before she can react, Reine rolls her eyes and playfully swats at me. "Don't listen to him. He’s just messing with you. Louise moved to California to be closer to her grandkids.” I could see the relief wash over Abby’s face. Reine smiles at her, "If it puts your mind at ease, I made a traditional Cajun Mardi Gras dish – chicken and sausage gumbo. It's a bit spicy, but I think everyone will love it." Abby's eyes light up, "That sounds amazing!” Reine grins, then turns her attention back to me. "Ash, did you remember to bring the lì xì for Theo and Mia?" Abby, looking confused, chimes in, "Li xi? What's that?" Reine explains, "It's a Tet tradition. Elders give red envelopes with money inside to younger family members. It's meant to bring luck and prosperity for the new year." Abby nods, understanding. "Oh, so like a new year present.” Reine nods, then eyes me with a pointed look. "So, Ash? Did you put in $50 for each of them?" I sigh, rubbing my temples, "Yes, I did." She gives me an approving smile, "Great. I just want to be a good aunt, you know? They're growing up so fast." Abby catches on to the tension, and with a puzzled expression, she looks from me to Reine. "Fifty dollars seems generous." I mumble, "I wanted to give them $20 each, but some people believe in spoiling them." Reine and I lock eyes. For a moment, all the heated words and unspoken issues between us hang in the air. But as Abby looks between us, curiously, we reach an silent truce. For her sake, and for the sake of the day, we let it all slide into the background. Rather than dredging up further drama, Reine and I spend the rest of the ride giving Abby a crash course in Vietnamese language and culture. — The entrance to my parents' house always brings a rush of nostalgia. The familiar scent of jasmine and the faded walls painted in a pale blue hue transport me back to a simpler time. Reine and I exchange a quick glance, our previous argument momentarily shelved. For the next few hours we are a happy couple. In my line of work, you get really good at pretending. Stepping out of the car, the sounds of laughter and the faint murmur of voices reach our ears. It seems the entire extended family has already gathered. I straighten my jacket while Reine adjusts her dress, making sure everything is in place. As we near the entrance, the door swings open to reveal my mother, a small, plump woman with graying hair pulled back in a tight bun. Her face lights up with a bright smile as she sees us. "Ah, Asher! Reine! You came," she exclaims, her Vietnamese accent shades her English. My father, a tall, grizzled man with hands roughened from years in the fishing industry on the Gulf, appears behind her, a wide smile on his face. "Chào mừng!" (Welcome!) he booms, pulling me into a bear hug. “Vui quá được gặp ba má,” (It’s good seeing you, mom and dad,) I say, the words wrap over my tongue as comfortably as a well-worn coat. Reine steps forward with a shy smile. "Chúc Mừng Năm Mới, ba má," (Happy New Year, mom and dad,) she says, her accent thick, but her effort brings a broad smile to my mother’s face. My mom says warmly, "Rất giỏi! Chúc Mừng Năm Mới, cưng!" (Very good! Happy New Year, dear!) Dad comments, "Better every year. Soon, we won't know you're not Vietnamese." My mom’s face tightens, a glare flashed at him for his potentially insensitive remark. Reine lets out a light, good-natured laugh, brushing off the comment with grace. "One day, perhaps. But until then, I'll keep practicing." Mom reaches up to embrace Reine warmly. She then pulls back to inspect her, eyes full of warmth. “You look beautiful, con,” she says, using the Vietnamese word for daughter, as though to reassure her of her place in the family. “Oh, this is Abby, by the way, our secretary at the agency,” I introduce Abby, breaking back into English. She waves shyly, a small “Chào” (Hello) escaping her lips. While Abby distracts my parents, I slip into the living room. I scan the room. The familiar hum of conversation and the warm amber light embrace me. Older relatives sit on one side, their conversations a flowing river of lyrical Vietnamese. Their laughter, accompanying a game of Tien Len, merges with the gentle clink of teacups. On the other side, my younger cousins chatter excitedly in English, their eyes glued to a smartphone as they share the latest online sensation. My gaze drifts to the walls adorned with family photographs, moments of joy and milestones frozen in time, interspersed with stern portraits of me as a Marine. I'm drawn to the corner of the living room where the family altar stands. The soft glow of candles illuminates photographs of ancestors, their faces forever frozen in time. My eyes rest on the picture of my bà ngoại (grandma) Kim, the woman who helped raise me. I take a joss stick, igniting it from the altar's candle. The fragrant smoke slowly curls upwards, filling the air with a comforting, woody aroma. It mingles seamlessly with the savory scent of my mom's cooking wafting from the kitchen. Bowing slightly, I say a silent prayer, thanking bà ngoại for her love and guidance. Continuing my search, I catch sight of my younger sister, Kira, in the adjoining room. She’s chasing after her two young children, a look of frantic merriment on her face. But amidst the giggles and playful shrieks of the kids, I notice the strain in her eyes, a shadow of sadness and uncertainty that she’s doing her best to hide. The absence of Xuân, her husband, hangs in the air like a heavy, unspoken word. It’s her first Tết since their separation, and the pain is still fresh, a wound yet to heal. Navigating my way towards Kira feels like threading through a determined defense on the football field. I sidestep Aunt Mai's eager questions and slide past Uncle Bao's boisterous stories, finally reaching Kira. Kira’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the mask falls, revealing the raw vulnerability beneath. She gives me a weary but sincere smile. "Hey, Anh Ash," Kira says, looking almost surprised to see me. She hugs me, clinging to me just a moment longer than usual, as if drawing strength from our bond. She then turns to Reine, offering a genuine smile and hug. "Good seeing you, Chị Reine." "It's great to see you, em," I say. Her kids, Theo and Mia, seven and five years old, notice us, their faces lighting up with youthful excitement. “Cậu Ash! Mợ Reine!” (Uncle Ash! Aunt Reine!) they exclaim, abandoning their game to rush towards us, their small feet pattering against the wooden floor. Reine bends down to the kids' level, feigning shock as she holds her hands out to measure their heights. "Mon Dieu, you two are getting so tall! Soon, you'll be taller than me!" she exclaims with playful exaggeration. Theo giggles, puffing out his little chest with pride, while Mia, ever the dramatic one, stands on her tiptoes and stretches her arms skyward. "Look, Mợ Reine! I'm already so tall!" Kira chuckles, ruffling Mia's hair. "At this rate, she might just surpass all of us." The kids jump onto me with squeals of delight, wrapping their little arms around me tightly. The joy in their eyes is infectious, and for a moment, the weight of the day's events melts away. “Cậu Ash!” Theo exclaims, his eyes twinkling with mischief, “Tell us a detective story!” “We want to be like you and Mợ Reine when we grow up!” Mia says, echoing her brother’s enthusiasm. I look over at Reine, who smirks, a glint of amusement in her eyes. We agreed a long time ago that the real stories from our line of work aren't suitable for little ears. But it’s Tet, and I don’t want to let the kids down. “Alright,” I start. “This is the story of brave Detective Theo and his brilliant younger sister, Detective Mia.” Theo beams with pride, while Mia snuggles closer, her eyes wide with anticipation. "When the story begins," I say, settling down on the living room floor with the kids clambering around me, "Theo and Mia found themselves in the heart of a big, bustling city. The city was lively, filled with music and colors, but it held a big secret." Theo's eyes are wide, and he whispers to Mia, "That's like New Orleans!" Mia nods eagerly, her eyes never leaving my face. "Yes, but you see," I continue, "there was a naughty bunch in town, making trouble for local shop owners like Mr. Delgado, the nice baker, and Mrs. King, the sweet florist. They were taking their money and making them very sad." "Like bullies!" Mia interjects with a frown. "Exactly like bullies, Mia," Reine affirms with a gentle smile. "But our private eyes knew that they should always stand up to bullies." Theo whispers something into Mia's ear, and she giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. Reine takes over, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Now, the leader of these bullies was called the Viper. And just like his name, he was slippery and dangerous.” Mia’s eyes widen with a mix of fear and excitement. “That’s a scary name,” she whispers. “Yes, it is,” I agree, nodding gravely. “But our duo are never afraid. They’re brave, like lions.” Reine continues, “With the help of some friendly cats in the city, our detectives discovered that the Viper had a hideout. It was a secret place where they planned all their naughty schemes." "Like a pirate ship?" Theo suggests. Mia nods enthusiastically. "Or a spooky castle!" I chuckle, "More like an old abandoned warehouse, but your ideas are way cooler." Reine nods. "Inside the warehouse, Theo and Mia found all sorts of evidence that the bullies had been up to no good." "The two detectives, using their clever skills, gathered all the evidence and took it straight to the police," I add. "The police were very impressed with their work and soon arrested the bullies, making sure they couldn't bother Mr. Delgado, Mrs. King, or any other shopkeepers again." Mia claps her hands in delight. "Yay for Detective Theo and Detective Mia!" "And do you know what happened next? The shopkeepers were so grateful to the brave detectives that they threw a big party in their honor. They even gave them a special reward." Reine winks at me, her face bright with amusement, the tension from before seeming to melt. I pull out two small red envelopes from my pocket. "Here's your reward, brave detectives," I say, handing one envelope to each child. Theo and Mia hop from foot to foot in excitement, their young energy palpable. Kira gives them a stern but affectionate look. "Now, what do you say when someone gives you a gift?" The pair pause, glancing at each other as if to confirm their response. In unison, they bend at the waist, performing a small bow. "Cảm ơn Cậu Ash, cảm ơn Mợ Reine," they chorus, their Vietnamese impeccable. It's a clear sign of Kira's efforts to instill in them a connection to their roots. "You're very welcome, mes amours," Reine responds. The children's laughter fills the air as they dart away, the envelopes clutched tightly in their hands, eager to share their treasures with their cousins. Kira watches them go, a tender smile playing on her lips. As the sound of their laughter fades into the background hum of conversation and clinking dishware, her expression changes, the fatigue and melancholy creeping back into her eyes. She leans against the doorway, arms crossed loosely over her chest. "You and Reine... you’re really good with them,” Kira murmurs, her voice soft. I offer a modest shrug, feeling the warmth of her words. “They're great kids, em.” If she only knew. The tale I'd spun for the kids was a sanitized version of the gritty reality. There really was a protection racket. The Viper was no fictional bully, but Vincent "The Viper" Marcello, a feared Mafia capo. Reine and I had infiltrated his compound, swiping a hard drive teeming with evidence of his dirty dealings, including evidence linking him to least three murders. I also deliberately left out the grizzly part of the story where we abducted one of Marcello's thugs and pistol whipped him with the gun he'd used to threaten the shopkeepers until he gave away his boss’s hideout. I gently touch her arm. “So, how are you holding up?” I ask in a soft voice, leaning closer so as to keep the conversation private amidst the bustle of the celebration. She offers a small, tight-lipped smile, a reflexive gesture that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, you know, I’m doing...” Her voice trails off, her gaze drifting to where her kids had disappeared. “I’m managing.” "Do you want to talk about it?" I ask gently. “Not right now,” she replies, her voice a whispered sigh. — After dinner, with stomachs filled and hearts warmed by food and familial laughter, Reine and I make our way to the kitchen to help clean up. The counters are littered with dirty dishes, remnants of the sumptuous feast we all enjoyed. The sink’s faucet runs in a steady stream as we rinse and stack the dishes for washing, working in comfortable silence as the sounds of the celebration continue in the other rooms. Kira slips into the kitchen, her expression soft. “Chị Reine, why don’t you go join the others?” she suggests. “I heard they’re starting karaoke in the living room.” Reine's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a light laugh escaping her lips. “Oh, I can’t sing, especially not in Vietnamese,” she protests. Kira smiles, drying her hands on a dish towel. “They have English songs too, you know.” “You can keep Abby company,” I say, nodding toward the living room where I see Abby, who's had one too many beers, flirting unabashedly with my cousin Dan. “She seems to be doing just fine,” she observes, still hesitant. “Come on, I’ll take your place here. Besides,” she says, casting a glance in my direction, “I have a lot to catch up on with my big brother.” Before Reine could protest, other family members peek into the kitchen, echoing Kira’s sentiments and whisking her away into the other room. With Reine now out of the kitchen and the hum of a familiar ballad emanating from the living room, Kira and I find ourselves surrounded by the relative quiet. The moment is disrupted by the rustle of plastic as Kira gestures to the bags of trash filling a corner of the kitchen. "Hey, anh, can you help me take out the trash?" I nod, grabbing a bag and following her out the back door. The night air is cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the warm bustle inside. The sky is painted with a million stars, and the distant chirping of crickets creates a quiet background rhythm. After we dump the trash bags into the bins, I notice Kira’s gaze drifting towards the backyard’s far corner. It’s where we used to have a secret hiding place as kids, a little nook in the hedge where we would discuss our greatest adventures and plans. The hedge has grown thick and wild, but the nook still seems to be there. "Remember that place?" Kira asks, her voice wistful. "How could I forget?" I reply, a hint of a smile playing on my lips. Walking over to the hedge, the crunch of the grass beneath our feet breaks the silence of the night.We stand before it, side by side, our breath visible in the cool night air. A flood of memories rushes back. “Alright, spill it, Kira,” I say in a low voice. “What was that cryptic text about?” She takes a deep breath, and in the glow of the stars, her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I’m scared, anh,” she whispers. The vulnerability in her voice tugs at my heart, and I reach out, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “What’s going on?” She hesitates, taking a moment to gather her thoughts before speaking. "It's about Xuan. I'm worried. He's...he's changed. I think he's involved in something dangerous, and I fear for his safety." "How do you know?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. Her voice trembles as she recounts her recent encounter. "A few nights ago, I went to his apartment to pick up some things for the kids. I wasn't expecting him to be home, but he was there… with a woman.” I narrow my eyes, feeling a prickle of irritation. My mind jumps to conclusions. "Kira, he's not your responsibility anymore. If he's seeing another woman, it's none of your—" Kira whirls around to face me, her eyes ablaze with frustration, cutting me off mid-sentence. "Ash, that's not it. Listen to me!" She takes a deep, shaky breath, and her voice drops to a whisper. "The woman... She was dressed in a long, dark robe, and her face was covered with some kind of ornate mask. They were standing in the living room, holding hands in a circle with other people in similar outfits. I let out an audible sigh, brushing off her concerns. “It sounds like he's just involved with someone who’s into New Age shit—” "Stop, just stop! It's not what you think," she insists, desperation threading her voice. She fumbles with her phone, her fingers trembling as she quickly navigates to her gallery. She thrusts the device into my hands, a video queued on the screen. "Watch this." I press play, and the video opens with a shaky view of Xuan’s apartment from the partially obscured doorway, probably taken while Kira was hiding. The ambiance is dim, only illuminated by the gentle flicker of countless candles, casting eerie, dancing shadows on the walls. In the middle of the room, Xuan stands surrounded by a group of similarly masked individuals. Their robes are not just dark – they seem to absorb the light around them, as if they are made from the very fabric of the void. The chanting begins softly, almost drowned out by the waxing and waning of the wind outside, but it quickly escalates, growing louder and more frantic. Suddenly, a dark mass starts to form in the middle of the circle. It doesn’t make any logical sense; it’s as if the very fabric of reality is tearing apart. This inky blackness writhes and pulsates, taking on an almost liquid form before solidifying into a shapeless, hulking mass. The mass seems to shimmer and undulate, as if it's not completely of this dimension, and its presence feels... oppressive, as though it’s emanating a force that threatens to crush everything in its wake. The masked figures, including Xuan, begin to levitate, drawn towards this entity as if caught in its gravitational pull. Whispers echo around the room, not from the people present but from the entity itself. It speaks in a multitude of voices, a cacophonous symphony of tones and pitches, the language indescribable and unlike anything of this earth. The voices grow louder, building to a deafening crescendo before everything suddenly goes quiet. The abrupt silence is stifling. The creature, a maelstrom of shadows and whispers, speaks again, this time in English. The voice is a myriad of tones intertwined, reverberating in chilling harmony, like the sound of an ancient, cosmic bell. "The spheres align. Three days. The passageway will unfurl," it intones. Then, as if sensing an outside presence, the entity starts to turn slowly, its amorphous form constantly shifting as if trying to find a face within its depths. Just as it seems to lock onto the camera's location, the video ends abruptly, the screen going black. I stare at the phone in my hands, my heart racing and my mind struggling to process what I've just witnessed. I look up at Kira, trying to gauge her reaction. "That's all I could capture without being seen," she whispers, her voice quivering with terror. "I left as quickly and quietly as I could." I replay the video, hoping to catch some indication that what I've just witnessed was some kind of elaborate trick or hoax. With each playback, I try to dissect every frame, every pixel, looking for a flaw or telltale sign of special effects or CGI. But nothing seems amiss. "It's probably just some kind of art project, or... practical effects, you know? Maybe augmented reality or something," I say, attempting to sound more convinced than I feel. Kira's eyes plead with me, her expression fraught with worry. "You know that isn't true, Ash. I've never seen anything like that. There was something… malevolent about it." "I don't know what's going on with him, but this... this is way beyond our understanding," I reply, frustration evident in my voice. She steps closer, her voice taking on an urgent tone. "Please, Ash. I don't care if we can't explain it. I just want to know he's okay." I grit my teeth, clenching my fists. "Why do you still care? After everything?" Her eyes glisten, and she looks away for a moment before meeting my gaze. "He might have hurt me, but he's still the father of my children. I have to know he's safe. For the kids." The memories flood back in a tidal wave. The last time I saw anything close to the fear I see in Kira’s eyes right now was years ago during her college days. She'd come home with a black eye, attempting to hide it behind oversized sunglasses and hastily applied makeup. I remember the white-hot rage that had boiled within me. We didn’t need words; I knew exactly who had done it. That evening, her then-boyfriend learned the hard way that no one hurt my little sister and got away with it. Taking a deep breath, I meet Kira's gaze, the weight of the situation settling in. “Okay,” I relent. “I’ll help. But we do this carefully and intelligently.” She grips my arm, her touch filled with gratitude and desperation. “Thank you, anh. But you have to promise not to tell Reine about this.” “Why not? Is it because she’s not Viet?” I ask, my voice tinged with a hint of irritation. The question instantly sets a spark in Kira’s eyes. “How dare you ask me that?” she retorts, offended. “I love Reine like a sister. It’s not about that. I just... I can’t have anyone know, not even mom and dad. Please, this stays between us.” I nod, keeping the storm of thoughts at bay for a moment as I agree to Kira's condition. My heart thuds against my chest, mirroring the pounding rhythm of a war drum. We're interrupted by a sudden rustling and a beam of light illuminating the hedges, turning the leaves a vivid, almost otherworldly green. Reine steps into view, her brows knitted in confusion. “What are you two doing in the bushes?” We stand, realizing that the childhood nook doesn't conceal us like it used to. The growth spurts over the years have rendered the hiding spot ineffective. We tower over the hedge. “Just reminiscing about old times,” Kira says quickly, her voice strained yet stable. The vulnerability from moments ago has receded behind a mask of normalcy. Reine eyes us skeptically but shakes her head with a playful smile. "Well, I just did a rendition of 'Billie Jean.' Your cousin Michelle says I ate, whatever that means,'" she says, brandishing a microphone like a trophy. "Your turn to suffer, my love." I take the mic from Reine, my hand brushing against hers. Her skin is warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the chill that has settled deep within my bones. “You set the bar so high,” I tease with a forced laugh, trying to make light of the situation. “I don’t know how I can compete with the Cajun Queen.” Reine laughs. “Oh, just wait till you see me moonwalk,” she teases, her eyes twinkling. As we walk back towards the laughter and light of the living room, Kira's gaze finds mine, a silent plea reflected in her eyes, reinforcing the pact of secrecy between us. I give her a subtle nod, a promise shrouded in dread and uncertainty. [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16unbjt/im_a_private_investigator_in_new_orleans_i/) [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/170lx9b/im_a_private_investigator_in_new_orleans_i/) [X](https://www.reddit.com/r/PageTurner627Horror/)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16texdg/im_a_private_investigator_in_new_orleans_i/

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PageTurner627

How the tables turn

I awoke abruptly to the sound of quiet chatter outside my bedroom door, it was early Saturday morning, I’d been up late the night before and hadn’t slept great like the many nights before. I lay there for moment, groggy, trying to come to when my eyes widened as I realised, I wasn’t in my bedroom, I was in what looked like a basement. I bolted upright and rubbed my eyes, maybe I was still in a dream. To my horror I was chained by my ankles, the chain was about 3 feet and was bolted into a concrete filling in the floor, another vacant chain lay scattered next to me and under me was a putrid, stained single mattress which smelled like stale urine and dirt. I fumbled around trying to stand, pulling the chain but to no avail. What is happening? Is this some sort of sick joke? I sat back down and took a few deep breaths to calm myself and try to figure out where I was and what was going on. I scanned the room looking for anything that might give me a clue. Then I spotted a small yellow watering can by the bottom of the basement stairs, I have one just like that? Oh god I was in my own basement. Confusion took over as I tried to think how I possibly could have ended up in this situation. Ok so..lastnight I finished work at 6:30pm, got home around 7:15pm, had a shower, poured a whisky, made sure the basement door was locked and turned on crappy reality tv like I did every single night, nothing out of the ordinary, I tried to think of anything else I may have missed but nothing, the last thing I remember was taking the last sip from my glass then… I can’t remember after that? I must have fell asleep. Surely I would have woken up if someone had broken in a dragged me to my own basement. Now the fear really started to set in. I tried to listen, see if I could make anything out from the whispers at the other side of the door, I began to panic, to scream and yell “HELLO, PLEASE HELP” “HELP, SOMEBODY”. All of a sudden I saw a crack of light shine through the basement door, I stared up, eyes locked and waiting to see who or what id be greeted with. The door opened more and I squinted as I adjusted my eyes to the brightness of the outside world, I could vaguely make out 2 silhouettes at the top of the wooden stairs. “HELP…PLEASE” I screamed, just then a wicked laughter burst from one of the silhouettes, my body frozen as they got closer and that was when I saw them clearly. Two young looking women, no more than 25 years old, one had long blonde hair that was raggy and unkept, she was so thin you could see her bones protruding through her skin, she wore a light pink dress that looked old and tattered, it was covered in holes and questionable stains. The other girl, who was much taller than her friend, had hair that was dark and cut short, her face was dirty, she glared at me with a sickening grin, her teeth yellow. She donned the same pink dress, except hers wasn’t as tattered and appeared newer. They both just stood for a while, staring, breathing heavily as if in a panic. All of a sudden the blonde girl spoke, snapping them both out of the trance they were in “hello Greg” she seethed, “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?” I cried “HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?”. “Come on Greg, it was only a matter of time, you know that” she said with a smile. The dark girl stood, still grinning, she began to pull at the hem of her dress, she was nervous but trying to hide it. “Do you know how long we’ve waited for this? The patience it’s took to get to this very moment?” She said softly, I tried again to pull at the chains harder and harder as fear coarsed through my body. They were new, the concrete was fresh but hardened, the lock around my ankle was tight and strong. They both edged forward, the blonde girl then picked up a chainsaw MY chainsaw that I had purchased a month earlier and began to pull, the loud roar filled my ears as I began to beg and plead, sweat dripping down my face. I know what what about to become of me. All I could think in that moment was how I was going to escape the shackles, but of course I couldn’t, they were unbreakable, I mean I would know right, I did make them. I then had no choice but to sit and wait for my inevitable demise. God dammit Greg, if you’d only finished making them sooner you wouldn’t be in this mess, they would be the ones still in the basement now chained up and helpless, about to be ripped limb from limb, not you. “Bye Greg, see you in hell” they laughed

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16tnv2h/how_the_tables_turn/

nosleep

Old_Key9623

I thought Furnace Fest was the best weekend of my life. But there's something about it haunting me.

Furnace Fest 2023 is all wrapped. From September 22-24, thousands gathered at the Sloss Furnace grounds in Birmingham, Alabama for three days of hardcore, emo and punk bands, loads of nostalgia, reunions of bands that hadn't played in a decade or more, and a meeting of friends from all over. It was a truly incredible time and I could spend hours raving about my favorite sets and moments from it. But that's not what this is about. As soon as I entered the grounds Friday morning and wandered around the booths while waiting for noon when the first bands would start I noticed someone unusual. A middle aged man was standing off to the side under a bridge. He was wearing a black suit and tie. Now it goes without saying that is not something you commonly see at a music fest, nor is it the most comfortable thing to be wearing outside in the 80+F weather we had. And upon closer inspection this appeared to be like a rather expensive Italian suit....not something you'd want to be wearing here with all of the dust and in throngs of sweaty people. He didn't appear to have a wrist band on either, although maybe it was just covered by his cuff of the suit. But then the strangest thing I noticed...I couldn't see any shoes. Instead his pants just ran long and and the ends of them were on the ground....not even the toes of shoes sticking out from underneath. But I just thought "whatever" and walked back to the core of the fest grounds and to a tent to order a drink. The first couple bands I saw were insane, especially No Cure, a local one that despite being nowhere near as well known as the rest absolutely riled up the crowd and got a truly crazy mosh pit and stage diving going. I was already thinking "oh yeah this is going to be amazing" and was thrilled. But then came With Blood Comes Cleansing. They were a Christian deathcore band from the latter half of the 00s, and was playing their first show in 13 years. I wasn't exactly a huge fan, but it seemed like a can't miss set. And indeed it was very good. The crowd was into it, the pit was going crazy, I was a bit in the back because this wasn't one of the main bands I came for, but I was still enjoying it. And then I noticed the main in the suit off to the side and behind me also watching. And...he didn't look happy. He stood there with his arms crossed, his suit somehow without any stains, and a scowl on his face. Also no one standing nearby him as crowded as the place was. Then about midway through their set the WBCC vocalist after a song gave a typical speech thanking everyone for coming out and how much it means to them so many people cared so much to see them here. And then also said that they started the band to give the message that there is a God and that he loves each and every person in that crowd very deeply and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. And the crowd all cheered including me. But I glanced back and saw the man still there. He didn't cheer...and in fact looked furious. His skin was actually a bit of an odd red tint almost...like he got sunburned all over. And I swear...it's almost like his eyes were lighting up in fire. They looked red from the distance. And I just saw pure anger in him at that. A bit weird....why even see their set? Later in the set the pit increased in size and people swarmed to the back, thus pushing me back as well....and near the man. And then I could see why people stayed away from him....it got hotter and hotter the closer I got to him. Like the guy was just radiating heat. Later I backed away...but things were weird. After the set I tried to forget the strange thing that occurred and mostly did. I was into the other bands and enjoying myself. Walls of Jericho and Hopesfall had amazing sets, and MxPx was a great cap to the night. I had completely forgotten about the man in the suit. Then came Saturday. I walked up to the gates very stoked again. After all today I would be seeing one of my favorite bands Thursday playing all of their album "War All The Time". And I got in early because an awesome band Foreign Hands was opening at noon, and indeed they rocked indeed. I was enjoying myself until Zao played. Nothing wrong with Zao...they were incredible....but midway through their set I saw him again. The man in the suit off the side. The suit looked the same...so he either had it dry cleaned overnight or had a multiple one. Still no shoes. And a look of sheer rage on his face. This guy seemed to not like Christian bands...but he was showing up to their set specifically, dressed in a suit. Something was off here. Luckily the next couple bands made me forget him again...until HolyName started. This was Tommy Green, formerly of Sleeping Giant and xDEATHSTARx's new band, and a personal friend of my pastor back home and her husband. In fact, he had presided over their wedding. So I had to catch half of their set (only half was possible because midway through Thursday started and I was not missing a minute of that.) Being Tommy Green and how openly Christian this band was, he started out mentioning it was first show, and then saying he was going to pray and said if you were OK with it you could pray with him. So most of the crowd bowed their heads and closed their eyes and a lot raised their hands. I did too....but just before that I noticed the main in the suit off to the side. I tried to forget about him while we prayed, but I opened my eyes a bit before the end and couldn't resist glancing at him. He wasn't praying needless to say. His arms were crossed, his head up, his eyes open...his skin with that weird very deep sunburn look, and his eyes almost inflamed again. Then their set started, and though I tried to ignore him and focus on the awesome set and the amazing pit, every time I saw him in a glance it was sheer rage. There was one exception. A bit into the set Tommy mentioned one of his friends from the band Beloved couldn't be here today because he's a youth pastor, and one of the girls in her youth group's brother was recently murdered. He was asked to preside over the funeral, which was today. And he suggested we all pray for that family again. I noticed while he spoke on that the man in the suit had a smirk on his face. For the first time all fest, he looked happy and pleased. But after we prayed for that family I glanced at him again, he seemed pretty annoyed. I rushed over to Thursday later and had the time of my life, and kept it going until Turnstile closed that night. Again at the end I was so beaming the man in the suit was a low priority. I only had one run in with him on Sunday, before the As Cities Burn set. This time I found myself too close to him at the beginning, same guy, same suit, no visible shoes. This was just too weird. But as the crowd shifted I found myself too close to him...and the heat overwhelmed me again. And then he grabbed my wrist. It felt like my wrist was against a hot stove. And I was upset and worried, Furnace Fest is such a supportive and great community things like groping from guys are quite rare, it's never happened to me before. I struggled and pulled my wrist away and ran around the back of the crowd to a completely different spot to watch the set. I never saw him for the rest of the fest, and was able to enjoy myself. By the time Monday came he had slipped my mind mostly. I just focused on my flights back home, and sharing photos, stories, and talking about the incredible weekend I just had. I felt like shit on Tuesday...the old "festival flu" at it again, along with my fatigue and achiness, but it was worth it. Until today when I glanced at my wrist where he had grabbed me. I noticed a bit of a burn mark...but not like a typical one when you have your skin against a hot object. It seems to be forming in a shape...and now it's clear, it's some sort of upside down pentagram. There's a Satanic symbol on my wrist where I was grabbed. I'm now just posting this because I don't even know what else to do.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16trny6/i_thought_furnace_fest_was_the_best_weekend_of_my/

nosleep

thedubiousstylus

Driving Through Hellfire

I'm not even sure where to begin... The women in my family, including myself, have had this sixth sense for as long as I can remember. We've had dreams and visions that have come true, as well as a few personal encounters with what we now believe to be spirits or some kind of evil energy. Yes, we are all spiritual people, but no matter how many times these things happen, we still can't get a grasp on "why" or "how" these things continue to be so drawn to us. So, what I'm about to tell you, as crazy as it may seem, is a completely true story. Other than my immediate family, no one else knows. I don't talk about this, ever. I don't enjoy having to relive what happened...but I'm hoping this will help others who share this spiritual gift. So, here goes... To set the scene - I live in a very rural place, in a small town that has maybe a few thousand residents, but we're all so spaced out and hidden in the hills, you'd never know that many people live here, unless there was a Fourth of July carnival or some kind of festival. My town isn't anything fancy. We don't have the most up-to-date stores and all that, but, for the most part, we're all happy and thankful for what we do have. The neighborhoods were like mini-communities. We all cared and helped one another. Everyone was friends with everyone and we all knew each other's business. It was the middle of Spring. Lovely weather in the mornings and nights, but as the day went on, you could feel the heat steadily rise. As the heat rose, families came outside to bask in the bright sunlight, while young kids laughed and played. This Spring day was just like any other day. I got up, got ready for school, and left to go listen to mundane lectures for the next 8 hours. I'll never forget that feeling I had while I sat and daydreamed, wishing time would go faster, just for the school day. That little glimmer of hope would trickle up into my brain when the clock finally read 3:00 PM. "It's time to go home! Oh, thank God!" I thought to myself as the 3:00 PM bell rattled my ears. I rush home, as always, even though I know the only thing that I'm rushing towards is a mountain of homework. It's like my mind plays tricks on me, making me think that simply being out of school and at home is a relaxing reward for getting through the day, although there wasn't any actual relaxing; it was just more stress in a comfortable environment. I hussle through the multiple pages, completing every problem with a bit of skepticism, questioning my intelligence. But nonetheless, I talk myself up and get through it. Before I know it, the clock reads 8:00 PM. Time to eat and shower and then I can rest for the first time today. I complete these remaining two tasks and gleefully skip to my bedroom. I slip on whatever large T-shirt I can find and jump into my large pink bed, letting the comfort of my soft pillows and furry covers overtake me as I slowly sink into the mattress. I'm one of those people that are woken up VERY easily. I'm not kidding, a mouse could fart and it'd wake me up. So when I felt my eyelids trying to shut, I took full advantage. I tuck myself in, get comfortable, and go straight to sleep. Now, these next events are questionable, to say the least. I still, to this day, have no idea why God showed me what he did... I've even questioned if it was God that showed me this... or if this was the work of the Devil... The very second my eyelids shut, I'm no longer asleep in my cozy bed... I'm in the passenger seat of a small black truck, an S10...a truck that I've never even seen in person, let alone been in before...and I'm hot. I'm SO hot!! I instantly feel gobs of sweat pour down my face and chest. My once comfortable T-shirt is already drenched in heavy sweat, clinging to my body. It's like my physical body had been here much longer than my mind was aware of. The heat instantly sends my mind into a frenzy. Intrusive thoughts race through every crevice of my brain as my breath becomes shallow, as if my lungs were incapable of inhaling the boiling air. I frantically look around the black interior of the truck, trying to find the door handle to get out, but there isn't one. Thats when I notice that, not only am I in the passenger seat, but the truck is moving! I glance over to the driver's seat to see a large, black, blurry figure that looks like the outline of a person. It's like these black pixels that are constantly moving, yet making sure to keep the outline visible....and it is driving this truck! I couldnt focus on anything more than the entity itself, at this point. The dark particles erratically swirled all through this outline of a person, imitating normal human movements as one would do when driving. I could see the black pixels wrap around the steering wheel, as the wheel would move whatever direction the entity willed it to. Complete dread coats every limb of my body as I try to focus on these particles, but I just couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, this thing remained so blurry, all I could see was the scattered outline of a person that was a little bigger than me. As I stare at the outline with intense bewilderment, I'm met with sudden feelings of nostalgia and grief, but I no longer feel fear, at least not for the entity. Before I can even question why I'm experiencing these emotions, they were viciously ripped away in a matter of miliseconds. My mind is yet again forced to focus on the overwhelming heat that was continuing to seep through the black truck. I can feel the gallons of sweat that have combined with the fabric seat, gushing as I move my burning body. The heat is so intense, I'm barely able to hold my head up to look out of the scorched windows... We're in the old hollow that I grew up in as a child. The same little red house my neighbor and I played at daily, the same tire swing my cousin and I spent many evenings on, the same blacktop road that was eaten away with more pot-holes than you can count. It was all there! All the things I grew to love and cherish... BUT EVERYTHING WAS ON FIRE!! The trees were glowing bright yellow, so bright, it was like you could sense the vibration of the intense flames just by looking at them. The grass was swaying with vibrant colors of yellow and orange, as the fire consumed every inch of this world. The sky was overtaken by huge, dark clouds of black smoke that never seemed to let up. The road was even engulfed in these extraordinary flames, like we were magically driving on molten lava, yet I could still feel every pot-hole the truck drove over. Tears fill my eyes and just for a moment, I forget that my body feels like it's in the middle of being cremated. But then I hear the screams... Screams that were coming from the fire. These high-pitched screams were cries of agony and despair. You don't ever forget screams like this. Screams that make your blood curdle and your stomach turn. Screams that are so prominent, it's like you can feel their pain. My body tightens uncontrollably, and I'm met with an immense feeling of sorrow. I can no longer talk or move, I'm frozen in place. I'm forced to witness the best memories of my childhood and the people I love, burn to ash in this world made of fire. The black figure continues to drive us further into my old hollow that is now immersed in blazing flames and cries of torment, as I'm melted to the seat, unable to move or scream. This continues for what seems like forever. "How do I get out?! GET ME OUT!" These were the only thoughts I could muster. The black figure suddenly turns to me, as if recognizing my presence for the first time, and... I'm jolted awake! I wake up, drenched in sweat, as if I had just come out of a sauna. Considering the A/C was set to 68° and I had my fan on, per usual, I knew the sweat had to be from the flames of my dream. I start hysterically crying and run straight to my Mother's bedroom. Now, keep in mind, I'm a teenager. Running to my Mother's bedroom because of a bad dream is something I haven't done since I was a very young child. I frantically wake her up, and try to relive this nightmare I narrowly escaped, just long enough to explain why I was so utterly terrified. As I open my mouth, my words seemed to melt together, as if I were babbling like a baby, not making any sense. Without full comprehension of why her daughter was crying uncontrollably, Mom instantly wrapped her loving arms around me and started praying in that same sweet tone she used when I got hurt as a small child. After a few minutes of consoling, I realize that I'm safe now, and that brings just enough comfort so I can force back my tears and random babbling. Thinking that the unnerving night was nearing its end was a soothing feeling that allowed me to drift back off to sleep in my Mother's arms. However, that relief was short-lived. Fast forward to two days later... Again, normal day to me. At least on this day, I have a hair appointment to look forward to. It feels nice to have a tiny bit of excitement for more than just going home after school. Besides, this is a positive distraction from the nightmare that tormented me just two nights ago. "It was just a bad dream, you're okay now." I tell myself, ignoring the obvious denial I'm in. I get to the salon, which so happens to be owned by my cousin, Laura (like I said, small town). I happily strut in the salon and sit down, smiling ear to ear, simply happy to have a minuscule change of scenery. Laura and I start off with the normal, nice formalities, "How are you?", ""How's your day been?", etc.. Silence freshens the air for all of three seconds before she sighs and says "Did you hear about Ben?" Ben is our cousin, as well. I grew up with him and his sister when I was a child. Back then, our whole neighborhood was very well-connected and close, we all cared for one another and we acted like one big, happy family. I hadn't seen Ben in many years, though. We moved out of that neighborhood when I was in the 5th grade and Ben and I lost touch. As soon as Laura said "Ben," my mind was flooded with memories of my childhood. The days that seemed to go by in a flash - climbing hills, swinging on tire swings, wading through the creek - my body felt warm as nostalgia filled my every thought. I did everything I could to push back what I had seen just two nights ago - my childhood in those energetic flames. But that nostalgia was quickly interrupted when Laura hands me photos of what looked to be a black S10 truck. The truck looked like bent-up chunks of metal scattered across the scuffed-up pavement. As badly as the truck was torn apart, I already knew there was no way possible for anyone to survive that...It was nothing more than scraps, surrounded by broken glass and blood. But as I continue to stare at the photos with immense disbelief, I can't shake the feeling that I KNOW this truck! I know that black interior, I know the entire inside of this vehicle, yet I know I never actually rode in a black S10... "THE NIGHTMARE!" I thought as my eyes widen and my breath shortened. THAT is how I know this truck!! This was the truck that black figure trapped me in while we drove through Hellfire! I had no idea that Ben had a black S10. Again, I hadn't talked to him in years... Turns out, Ben had been out partying for his 21st birthday. He had also been drinking alcohol. (I mean who wouldn't drink on their 21st birthday?) The mistake he made was driving home after he was drinking. He wrecked and passed away in the same hollow that black entity drove me through... The same hollow where all of our childhood memories were made... The same hollow that was eaten by flames two nights ago... The very night I was forced to witness this nightmare... is the same night Ben passed away... After years of racking my brain, the only plausable explanation I can come up with is that this was some sort of message, although I'm still not sure what that message was. I believe the outline of a person that was driving us was Ben... The last spot in my childhood hollow that I had seen before I was startled awake...was the place where Ben had died... It's almost like I was in the truck with him when he was driving that night. I was vigorously flung back to reality once he wrecked and died. Maybe that's why he couldn't sense my presence until the very end. I just don't understand it...and I'm not sure I ever will. I still have so many questions... Questions that eat away at my soul, deepening the voids that the mysterious flames coercively tore open. "Should I have focused harder on my nightmare?... Why was I the one that experienced this?... Why me?... What should I have done differently?..." And the question that still fills my very soul with peril.... "Could I have saved his life?"

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16tnaec/driving_through_hellfire/

nosleep

ColdSpiritual6943

My new job requires me to work from 7pm to 7am. But every midnight, my task is to hide in a special room. Part 3

\[Part 1\]([https://reddit.com/r/nosleep/s/6nTH0okjfm](https://reddit.com/r/nosleep/s/6nTH0okjfm)) \[Part 2\]([https://reddit.com/r/nosleep/s/BhrPnnl7lO](https://reddit.com/r/nosleep/s/BhrPnnl7lO)) On Thursday, September 21st 2023, following my supervisor's instructions, I went to work at 5 pm, ensuring that I was early enough to maximize the time frame of our meeting. Unfortunately, he only freed himself at 6 pm, and he told me right from the beginning that we only had 20 minutes. Our conversation looked like this: "What is your problem Kol? Like seriously? Aren't you happy to have a job and sustain your family?" He asked. "At the expense of my sanity? My life?" "Aren't you man enough to handle this job? Do you think everyone out there have it easy? Or that there's only you that go through pressure?" "Sir, this thing trying to get me, what's this thing? What's that midnight thing all about?" I desperately asked, only to be slapped with the reply I least expected. "I don't know." My supervisor replied. "What?" "I'm sorry, even I, your supervisor yes, even I, I don't know. Maybe you should ask the CEO, that is if you can get in touch with her. I'm not sure she replies to mails though. But do you think it's all those people out there that will give you the answer?" "What? What people?" "You think I didn't see your posts online?" He asked, baffling me. "Yeah right, look at me with your big eyes now. I saw them. Do you think those people will give you answers? So it's a trend now, right? The moment an employee is unhappy, the whole situation ends up on a sub?" He questioned. "I'm really sorry Sir, I just wanted to—" "Cut the crap! There's no policy in our institution that forbids such behavior. You can even continue if that can help you cope, as long as you don't name the company or anyone involved in the business, even if it's a dog. Alright? And also, don't cheat like last time. After midnight, everything is back to normal, whatever it means to you, and you're expected to be patrolling, not chilling the whole night in the black room. Okay?" "Understood Sir." "I always told you to just follow the rules. You're all safe in that room, what's hard with that?" "Sir, it's insane! I mean— this ain't normal, and also, what happened to the previous guy?" I asked. "You're looking at him. Look, this is really like a training process for you like I told you. This whole first month. But if you think you can't handle this job, you might consider leaving." He said, as he stood up to leave himself. "And you know, if you can't handle pressure, then there's no job for you anywhere in the world. There are good and bad days at work. That's just the truth. Don't be thinking that remote workers, or Influencers have it easy. Nobody does. Especially in this company. Look around, look more closely. We all have our rules to follow, even myself. One of them is not to be here at 6:30 pm. At this time, only you should be here." He added and walked away. "Thank you very much Sir." I simply replied. "Oh, and word of advice for a stubborn type like you. If you find yourself trapped, just make sure to have your full uniform on, close your eyes and don't make a single move or sound." He revealed. "Or else?" I inquired before he reached the door. He simply lifted his shirt to reveal the most disturbing scar I have ever seen on someone's belly. The stitches made it so worse that it looked like the closed mouth of a crocodile. "Just be like drivers. If they don't follow the rules, they cause accidents, they die and even kill as well in the process. Kol, follow the rules. I'll give you a call tonight, you might need other tips." He said with a smile, then left. The shift on Thursday completely went almost uneventful. At midnight, I was in the black room just waiting for the entity to display the new tricks it had in store for me. It appeared at the entrance at 12:00 am as usual, but just remained there. It did not roam around and only stood there, affecting the camera at the entrance of the building. Since it was far, I could even use my phone and the radio as it could not affect it from that distance, and my wife called me. Our little boy of five years old was having difficulties to sleep, so my wife figured that he wanted me to sing our own composed lullaby, something I usually do for my kids. Afterwards, we talked a little bit but my wife insisted on my job, telling me that she knew that attitude and asked if I wanted to quit. She knows me well, and I used to quit my previous jobs as soon as I was fed up without thinking of the consequences. We almost argued about it because she thinks that I am on the verge of doing it and letting my family down, again. After almost an hour of reassuring her, we concluded the call on a more positive note. It was 01:08 am by that time and of course, the entity had completed its shift. Therefore, it was time to resume mine. However, I could not have braced myself for what awaited on Friday. Everything once again started peacefully until midnight. At 12:00 am, unlike the day before, the entity was nowhere to be seen, not a distortion on a single camera. The coast looked clear. Thirty minutes later, I wanted to check my phone and I realized that I had forgotten it in the restroom right next to the black room. Whatever my supervisor had to say, I wanted to hear it since I am sure he knows more than he is willing to tell, so I could not miss that call. Like my supervisor said, there are good and bad days at work, therefore, if the entity chose to take a day off, I might be at peace for once. I decided to take the risk of retrieving my phone. Armed with my machete, I slowly opened the door and my jaw dropped at the scenery I discovered. Instead of the corridor, I saw the windowless living room of a really old house. An old wooden house surely decorated by an old lady from the 50's. A few meters away, carefully placed on a small wooden table, my phone emitted a bizarre static sound, before I could hear my voice from it, performing the same lullaby I sing for my children, to my absolute bewilderment. I then slowly looked at the monitors and am really grateful for doing so, as I saw them rapidly distorting one after the other because the entity was speeding towards the black room at a velocity I did not know it had. I slammed the door shut and locked it. Not even ten seconds later, I heard it approaching and growling, and it soon began to pound on the door. The worst was not that thing trying to force the door open, it was its growls, switching from that of a beast, to that of a woman, to that of a kid, to that of a man, and other things I can not even describe. I ended up curled on the floor, my hands covering my ears because its rage screams were deafening. At 01:00 am, everything abruptly stopped. I do not know if I missed my supervisor's call but ultimately, we did not get to talk. After my shift, I returned home ready to ignore my wife and quit. I also thought that I could at least get some rest and free my mind from what I just went through, I was wrong. My son was the first to welcome me as soon as I stepped in. My wife could only tell me that the excitement came from a dream that he had last night. When I asked him about it, he explained the dream in details, telling us that the whole family was on a deserted island, dressed like pirates, something he really likes to do. A 'voice' then told him that fruits, water and a treasure were hidden somewhere, and that the only condition for the family to access those good things was for me to just get out of the black room. \[Part 4\]([https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16usvn2/my\_new\_job\_requires\_me\_to\_work\_from\_7pm\_to\_7am/](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16usvn2/my_new_job_requires_me_to_work_from_7pm_to_7am/))

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16sz1nb/my_new_job_requires_me_to_work_from_7pm_to_7am/

nosleep

AngelmZeal1

I'm the chef that cooks death row inmates their last meal. My secret ingredient came back to bite me

The botched execution of Norton Caraway – the most prolific serial killer you’ve never heard of – should have made national headlines for weeks. But Caraway was so much more than your average, garden-variety killer, and the factors that made his case so special, also made it embarrassing for powerful people with means to make unsightly stories go away. That meant in the hours that followed, I had very little information to go on; just the details I’d seen first-hand in the witness gallery, and the gnawing feeling it was all my fault. I paced until I thought I’d wear a hole in my apartment floor, replaying the events in the hopes that some logical explanation would let me off the hook: Guards led Caraway into the chamber, scalp shaved bald. They restrained him in the electric chair; the method he had fought in court to have over lethal injection. When the executioner threw the lever, Caraway convulsed. I kept waiting for the shaking to stop. Instead it worsened. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the Screaming, and the smell of burning skin… Prison staff shut the curtains to the witness gallery, and rushed us out. I left knowing he was still alive, and silently prayed with each passing moment that I would get the call confirming his death. When my cell phone finally did ring, it was warden Paul Perkins, calling from his personal number. I answered. “Hello?” “We need to talk about Caraway’s last meal.” My blood felt cold. What did he know? How could he know. “I don’t—” “In person.” I’ve never driven so fast; it’s a miracle I didn’t get pulled over. I reached the penitentiary before dawn. Place looks like an old high school, wrapped up in barbed wire. An uneasy silence filled the long sterile corridors. The guards I passed looked twitchy, and unnerved. The whole prison seemed to be on its feet, waiting for something. The warden greeted me in his modest office, all bookshelves and filing cabinets with a small window overlooking the plains. “It’s been a long night.” He gestured toward two steaming mugs of coffee on his desk. “Sit. Drink.” I obeyed. “I didn’t think you stayed for executions,” Paul said. “Usually don’t.” The warden lowered himself into his chair with a huff. “Why was last night different?” I studied his pudgy face, normally bright, kind, and clean-shaven. This morning, his eyes were bloodshot. “A victim approached me,” I said. Give him a grain of truth. Something he may know anyway. “It made this case feel more personal.” “Who?” “Rebecca,” I said. “She tracked me down and knocked on my door.” The poor woman had looked so thin, like she’d forgotten to eat. Miss-matched, wrinkled clothes. Paul just looked at me, expectant. I continued: “I felt awful for her. So I invited her in. Made her dinner, then let her talk about her daughter.” Among other things. Oh, if only she had just gone home— “I know you were doing a nice thing, but I’d be careful around her.” Paul said. He took a sip of coffee and smacked his lips. “When Rebecca's daughter went missing, did you know that she was the prime suspect?” “No, I didn’t.” “A lot of people up in that tiny town still believe Rebecca is the strangler. Seems none of them are eager to open those old wounds.” Paul set the coffee down. “In the early days, back when it was only a disappearance, a K-9 officer paid her a visit. He wanted one of Daniella’s favorite stuffed animals. Something to let the dogs catch her scent. Know what they found?” I shook my head. “Weird stuff, Cathy. Runes, weird little dolls, and animal bones. She told the cop she’d been doing a ritual to bring her baby back,” Paul said. “She couldn’t tell them where she was when Daniella went missing. So they booked her. “Caraway was well trained, disciplined. Waited as long as he could, I expect. But that urge…” he trailed off. “He couldn’t help himself, I expect.” Had I given too much away in mentioning Rebecca? “Point is, Rebecca might not have done anything to her daughter. But she’s not safe, or sane,” Paul said. “I’m getting side tracked though. The execution: you stayed out of sympathy then?” “Sure, you could call it that.” “Okay.” Paul nodded. “Well, things got a bit hectic after you left. Shall I fill you in?” I nodded. “Executioner cut off the power at the 20 minute mark. Way, way longer than it’s supposed to take.” Paul took a deep breath. “By that point, Caraway looked like a half-spent candle. Bastard wasn’t just alive. He was coherent. Begging for death.” “How is that possible?” I asked. I knew exactly how. The question was, did the warden? “Problem with the chair, maybe.” The warden shrugged. “I made the call to override his wishes. He got the lethal injection, and stopped breathing at 3:45.” Caraway was dead. I relaxed a little in my chair, but tried not to show a change in my posture. “Why did you get into this job, Cathy?” Paul asked. The shift in questioning caught me off guard. Where was he going with this? “Honestly?” I asked. “I hate when you say that,” he said. “Implies you’ve been dishonest about everything else.” “I picked a terrible time to be a chef. Restaurants going under right and left. What was it, 25 percent in the whole country that year?” “Something like that,” Paul agreed. “Any halfway decent owner wanted a chef with serious culinary experience. Sleazy ones wanted to get me on server staff, so they could see my ass in one of those tiny uniform skirts,” I said. “You were my only option.” “Cooking last meals for death row inmates has its perks,” Paul said. “No bad reviews to worry about.” “No repeat customers either.” “The ideal learning environment.” He curled his lips into a smile. “But that was years ago. You’ve got your degree now. More than enough talent and experience. Anyone would’ve hired you.” “The challenge,” I said. “I mean–you’re cooking someone’s last meal. You only get one of those.” Unless you’re Norton Caraway. “No other reason?” the warden asked. I answered honestly: “No.” He leaned in. “You didn’t ever like to mess with them?” “Who?” “The prisoners. You ever mess with their food?” He knew. He knew, and he saw it in my eyes. “What’s going on?” “Engineer took a look at the chair.” Paul bit his lip, and shook his head. “Nothing wrong with it. So after Caraway’s heart stopped, I ordered an autopsy. Maybe he had some freak medical condition. I don’t know what I was expecting.” The warden went on, his voice starting to shake with anger. “You know what I find?” “What?” “DNA. A Victim’s DNA. Daniella’s blood, mixed in with the food in Caraway’s stomach and intestines.” My face felt prickly. Stress-sweat tricked down my forehead, stinging my eyes. “Her what?” “I’m asking you this as a courtesy, because I consider you a friend: did you tamper with Caraway’s last meal?” I opened my mouth. “And before you answer—” he cut me off, “—keep in mind what’s going to happen here. Sure, the state wants to keep this one low profile. But they’ll still need to at least investigate what went wrong. Might do their own autopsy. Maybe take a look at your other meals. “I need to know how long this has been going on? Was this always some karmic justice for you? Like spitting in a rude customer’s food on a—a just, sick level?” “Paul, you don’t understand—” “I’m sorry, Cathy I’ve gotta fire you. You can walk away clean. If you don’t make a fuss, I don’t think they will either.” Food tampering? Then it clicked: Paul only thought I’d been tampering with their food. He harbored no suspicions anything supernatural even happened. He didn’t know what I’d done; the ritual that evil woman had convinced me to play a part in. I thought back to Rebecca, and the vial she had given me along with a tattered recipe card. “Execution is too good for him,” she’d said. “Feed Caraway this, and he will never know peace.” Where had she gotten her daughter’s blood for the concoction? Why did the lethal injection work when the electric chair failed? A blaring siren from some distant watchtower answered my second question. “Prisoner escape,” the warden muttered under his breath. He reached for his phone. Before it was halfway from its cradle to his ear, a corrections officer barged into the room, panting. “What’s happened? Are you alright?” Paul gestured to the front of his uniform, soaked in blood. “It’s not mine.” “Then whose? Who’s down?” “The coroner.” The warden had gotten halfway to his feet when he froze. His brow wrinkled. “Wait, then who’s missing?” “Caraway.” My breath caught in my throat. “Caraway’s body is gone. Autopsy report too. Someone must’ve broken in and dragged it off. They can’t have gotten far.” “How many hurt?” “Half dozen,” the officer panted. “Pretty badly too. I don’t know about Hopkins and Clark. Medics are with them, but…” the officer trailed off. “How about you, you’re not wounded?” Paul asked. “No, sir.” “Good. You’ll need to keep Cathy safe in my office until those freaks are caught. You’d have to be some special kind of screwed up to try stealing a famous killer’s body.” “Yeah,” I agreed. He jabbed one of his sausage fingers in my direction. “Don’t think I’m done with you. This isn’t over.” He had no idea how right he was. The corrections officers didn’t catch them. Little did they know, there wasn’t a them to catch. A member of the riot team made raving claims: said he’d fired dozens of rounds into the charred, disemboweled corpse of Norton Caraway. He just kept coming, howling in pain the whole time. The warden’s preferred explanation felt equally far-fetched to me: the unnamable agency that had honed Caraway into a ruthless instrument of death, wanted his body for some clandestine purpose. So they took it. Staff buried an empty box in the prison cemetery and pretended the night had never happened. Theories of witchcraft, or an undead man fighting his way out of the penitentiary never crossed anyone’s mind. If everyone was willing to forget, perhaps I could, too. But I couldn’t. He had the warden’s autopsy report. The one that raised questions about his last meal, and the woman who cooked it. I kept thinking of the way he studied me, how normal he’d looked. He was average height, and in decent shape. Neat, combed hair, atop a round face, with a small nose. Nothing about him was intimidating, or even remarkable. Difficult to pick out of a lineup. Paul quietly let me go from my job at the prison. Felt like I got off easy for what I did. I decided to put my talents to other uses. I’m working on setting up a non-profit that helps provide hot meals to victims’ families. Setting it all up involved a lot of phone calls to try and secure money. That meant a lot of unknown numbers popping up on my caller ID. So when my cell rang one weekday evening, I answered without hesitation. “Hello, Cathy speaking.” “Cathy—I’ve just learned the most interesting recipe. You should cook it for that charity of yours.” The voice was wheezy and labored. “It’s to die for.” The caller let out a laugh somewhere between cackle and coughing fit. “Who is this?” I demanded. But I knew. “Rebecca told me everything I needed to know, in the end. Told me how to reverse what you bitches did to me,” Caraway said. “The bullets weren’t the worst of it: frying in that chair; being paralyzed while they cut me open to dig around in my guts—” he raved, “—I felt everything. I still feel everything! The pain is constant.” I kept the phone close to my ear, turning on the spot to ensure my windows and doors were secured. I kept expecting the man’s marred remains to leap out at me. “But you can take that pain away,” Caraway rasped. “I’d be honored, Cathy, if you’d have me over for dinner.” My phone buzzed with a text message notification. A new image. Bony fingers wrapped in disfigured skin, pinched the edges of a recipe card. “Dinner for two,” I read aloud. “The witch could only push around pain and suffering from one person to the next: Daniella to me, and now me to you,” Caraway said. “Follow those instructions, and you’ll have a proper last meal for me.” “And for me?” I asked. Caraway laughed. “You’ll take on my suffering. Every pinprick of pain I’ve felt since I ate that cursed dinner you served me. It’s a heavy burden, I admit.” “If I refuse?” “I’d hoped your conscience might get the better of you. Or at least some sense of responsibility for what you unleashed.” He sighed, his labored breath crackling in the receiver. “Rebecca said we both needed to eat willingly. I can’t force you to cook, or eat. But I can certainly persuade you.” “How?” “Use your imagination. Watch. Give me a ring when you’ve seen enough.” The call ended. I called the police, lied about some vague phone threats from a stalker. An officer came to search the house. When he found nothing, he promised he would be in the area, and gave me his number. I was so worried about my physical safety that I never quite wrapped my head around what the madman actually threatened me with. He’s careful, but I can see his pattern in the disappearances and killings that go unsolved. I’ve unleashed a quiet terror on the world: a man who craves death, who cannot be killed, and whom no one is looking for. And he wants to make me pay. I know what I have to do to stop him. I know I’m the only one who can. But I’m scared of what it means to take on that pain myself. Every time I think I’m strong enough, I think back to those screams of agony from the witness gallery, and the smell of burning flesh. [Maybe justice can wait a little longer?](https://www.coleschapters.com)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16sqgjh/im_the_chef_that_cooks_death_row_inmates_their/

nosleep

NobleClimb

The Road to Damnation - A Motorcycle Club Horror

For anyone who knows me, it should come to no surprise that I joined an MC as soon as I had the opportunity. I’ve always been drawn to the thrill of riding, the freedom of the open road, but most importantly, to the sense of belonging to community that values loyalty, camaraderie and unity above all else. I wasn’t actively looking for a group, to be honest. I’d obtained my motorcycle license fresh out of high school and did not pursue a club until much later in life, in my mid 30s to be precise. After I’d gotten my career on track and realized I was feeling lonely, I started hanging out in motorcycle bars, going to biker parties, and riding with fellow bikers as often as given the chance. Soon after, I met Clyde Stryker. Or shall I say, I re-met Clyde. Him and I go way way back, his daughter, Bea, and my younger brother, Jack used to go to school together. Once reconnected with Clyde, all the pieces just kinda fell together. Bea and Jack started hooking up. Jack also got his motorbike license, Bea already had hers. They started joining us at parties and on rides. Then, I met Damian, my age, my type. Damian brought by his own little brother, Theo, and the six of us found ourselves always together, plotting, planning, having fun. It was during one of our many gatherings at Clyde’s house that he came up with the idea. “Hey Cristina”, he said to me, “what about if we found an MC?” “A Management Committee?”, I joked. Of course, I knew what an Motorcycle Club was. We’d discussed joining one, but no club likes to take six prospects at once, save for the somewhat violent gang-like ones. And that was not our scene. “That’s not a bad idea!”, Jack joined in, ignoring my bad joke. “I agree!”, Theo chimed in. “Well, let’s this be our first vote then!”, said Clyde, bringing out a piece of paper. “On this day, 31st October 2022, I push forward to found the… what shall our name be?” “How about Stryker’s Spooky Riders, since it’s Halloween”, Bea proposed. “Stryker’s Wicked Wheels?”, I suggested. “Oooh I like that”, said a few voices in unison. “That’s good”, confirmed Clyde. “So, today, 31st October 2022, I move forward the foundation of Stryker’s Wicked Wheels, or SWW, for short. I propose myself and Cristina as President and Vice-President, Bea as our Creative Director or CD, as she is into graphic design, Damian as our Treasurer since he works in finance, Jack, to be in charge with Prospects and Theo as our Secretary”, he said, jotting all of this down. I could tell he actually gave this a lot of thought, and this gave me confidence. He gave all of us confidence, he always did. So we all agreed, voted, signed dotted lines, Theo submitted the application later on and that was that. By mid summer we were already known regionally, our patch, a wheel engulfed by a skull up in local bars. Shortly, we had a few prospects knocking at our door, saying they want to join us, that they liked our free spirits. Out of all the options, two stood out: Pamela, a super cool biker chick in her 50s who just left her old MC saying they were a bit misogynistic, and Mike or “Owl”, because he was sleeping all day and staying up all night. They were both presented with a Prospect patch and soon enough they were always riding with us. Owl and Clyde were actually getting very close. Owl was this super charismatic guy, tall, rugged, with a dark long beard and long curly hair. Picture biker dude, close your eyes and you’re seeing Owl, I guarantee you. Clyde was mesmerized, I guess he always wanted he always wanted his rough interior to match his looks. But he was small, thin and practically hairless. That’s how I can explain why our President and founder was way more into his Prospect than his Prospect was into him, and us. Not long after, Owl and Clyde would disappear at odd hours of the night, in the middle of parties, doing God knows what. “Where are you going again?”, Bea asked them one night, as they were headed out. “Just around, we won’t be long”, said Owl. I wanted to follow, but then I realized I was completely out of it. We all had a few drinks, I remember Owl bringing us shot after shot. So I made a mental note to stay sober next party. The opportunity came last week when we hosted our first party. We rented a club, invited all the MCs in the area. We were so busy getting ready for the party, that we didn’t even notice that Clyde and Owl were barely there. In fact, I only realized something was off when Pamela, who had been carrying beer crates all morning said If the MC weren’t so nice to us and wasn’t co-ran by a girl, I wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of being a Prospect all over again, it’s too much work. Indeed, Prospects are expected to do the grunt work, all the heavy lifting. But Owl wasn’t even there that morning. I wondered if, as Vice-President, I should bring this up with the others, but I decided against it for the time being. I also decided that this was the night I would get to the bottom of whatever Clyde and Owl were up to. The party was a success. We had over 20 MCs join us, nearly 200 people in total. I played good hostess, making sure not to run out of alcohol and that the grill was constantly burning. I spotted Owl passing people free shots every chance he had. He came up to me a few times as well, we cheered, and I pretended to drink his vodka. But I spat it out, every time, waiting for them to sneak off again. Sure enough, it didn’t take long. It must have been a few minutes before 1 am that I saw Clyde gently making himself scarce on one side of the room. In another part of the club, Owl was doing the same. It was go time. I pulled on my black hoodie for better camouflage, and followed them outside, making sure to keep my distance. Outside, Owl pulled something out of his backpack. He kept one and gave Clyde the other. They unwrapped them and put them on. Cloaks. Then they proceeded to walk towards the woods that started just across the street from our chosen club. It wasn’t easy to follow without making any noise. The woods were so silent that any branch cracking or leaf folding under my foot would echo and give me away. Luckily, I was sober and light footed and my presence went unnoticed. As we ventured deeper into the forest, we came across a clearing bathed in eerie moonlight. There were more hooded figures, all in the same black cloaks that Owl and Clyde were wearing. They were all gathered around what seemed like an old tree. One of the figures, stepped forward and lit something. Under the light, I could distinguish that the hooded figure was wearing a different cloak than the rest, a red cloak. The fire was now in full swing, and the red-hood spoke: “Bring forth the sacrifice!” Three hooded figures went away from the scene and came back shortly with two toddlers. My heart sunk, as I was bracing myself for what would happen next. The toddlers, couldn’t be older than five, if that, seemed drugged. They were awake, but did not look conscious, and did not as much as yelp at the sight of the fire in the middle of the clearing. *“Blood and bone, soul of twins* *Grant us power from within* *Grant us life and grant us flight* *In this sacred, unholy night.”* Chanted the red hooded figure once. The rest of the hoods followed suite, chanting the same verse over and over again, while the red hood grabbed the twins by their arms and tossed them in the fire. I covered my mouth to stop myself from screaming. The children didn’t even yelp, and for a second I thought maybe they weren’t real. As soon as they started burning, the figure in red started levitating above the fire. “Look upon me, mortals! Look how I draw power from the flames!”, he shouted as the chanting got louder and louder. “We are getting closer and closer to our final quest, that of summoning Vulcan, who will unleash fire and destructions to all non-believers, and most importantly, will grant us, his disciples IMMORTALITY!” “VIVAT VULCUN”, started chanting the hooded figures. I’d had enough. I ran out of the woods to call the police. But then I remembered the huge MC party, not entirely legal, happening next door and thought better of it. Of course, it was cowardly. But I told myself I’d call them first thing in the morning, the twins were already dead, what good would it do them? Early next day, I ran into the woods, but there was nothing there. I kept telling myself that the kids were dolls and this was all a drug rave, but when I started doing more research, I found missing children reports, missing animal reports, all in the area. The last report was from a week ago, and it featured twins. I contemplated telling Damian, or Jack or someone. But by our rules of the club, all suspicions should be brought up to the whole group. To Clyde. To Clyde and his charismatic Owl. Also, with no information about the other people present, I didn’t want to risk. No, I will contact the police, and told them to be ready ahead of time. I will follow them into the woods and catch them in the act. There is another party this weekend. This weekend, no child will die, I will be ready.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16tls7y/the_road_to_damnation_a_motorcycle_club_horror/

nosleep

AndieA_Adams

The Shadows That Haunt Us

My name is Alex, and I'll never forget the night my life was forever changed. It started like any other evening, a quiet dinner date with my love interest, Sarah, at our favorite Italian restaurant. Little did we know that it would lead us down a harrowing path of the paranormal, murder, and horrifying deadly monsters. As we strolled back to our car under a starlit sky, Sarah held my hand, her eyes sparkling with affection. "I love nights like this," she said, her voice soft and sweet. "I do too," I replied, wrapping my arm around her. Little did I know that this would be one of our last peaceful moments together. The atmosphere shifted abruptly when we arrived at Sarah's apartment. The normally well-lit hallway was shrouded in darkness, and an eerie chill hung in the air. We exchanged uneasy glances but chalked it up to a power outage. Inside her apartment, Sarah's dog, Max, usually friendly and exuberant, was cowering in the corner, trembling with fear. As we tried to soothe him, strange, guttural growls echoed from the shadows. A sinister presence seemed to envelop us. Our attempts to turn on the lights were futile, and we felt trapped in an oppressive darkness that defied explanation. Whispers, faint at first, filled the room, and Sarah clung to me, terror etched across her face. "We need to get out of here," she whispered urgently, her eyes darting around the room. I nodded, my heart pounding, and we made a break for the door. But it slammed shut before we could reach it, as if controlled by some unseen force. In the suffocating darkness, Sarah and I stumbled upon an old, dusty bookshelf. Desperate to find answers, I pulled out a thick leather-bound tome. Its pages detailed the chilling history of the apartment building, which had once been a site of occult rituals and gruesome murders. As I read aloud, the whispers intensified, coalescing into horrifying, disembodied voices. They spoke of a monstrous entity that hungered for souls, a malevolent force that had been awakened by our presence. Terror-stricken, Sarah and I pleaded for mercy, for a way out of this nightmare. The whispers seemed to respond, echoing with eerie laughter. The entity manifested before us, a grotesque, nightmarish creature with glowing, malevolent eyes. It hungered for our souls, its chilling words sending shivers down our spines. "We need to find a way to stop it!" Sarah cried out. Desperation gave us strength. We recited an incantation we found in the book, hoping it would banish the entity back to the darkness from whence it came. But our words only seemed to infuriate it further. The creature lunged, its monstrous form enveloping Sarah. I watched in horror as her body contorted in agony, her screams echoing in the unholy darkness. In her final moments, she whispered, "I love you." With one last, heart-wrenching scream, Sarah was gone, consumed by the malevolent entity. I was left alone, broken and devastated, in the cold, dark apartment. The whispers had quieted, and the entity had vanished, leaving me to grapple with the horrifying truth—I had lost the love of my life to a nightmarish world of the paranormal, murder, and monstrous forces beyond comprehension. As I sit here, penning this account, I can still hear the faint whispers, a haunting reminder of that fateful night. I am forever haunted by the shadows that took Sarah from me, and I am left to wonder if there is any way to escape the darkness that now surrounds my life.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16tpvhw/the_shadows_that_haunt_us/

nosleep

No-Imagination4892

I am the daughter of a Tik-Tok family channel. I found something disturbing in our basement. Update: The Nick Tapes.

I need to preface this by saying I am currently Zoey [(V. 1,792).](https://reddit.com/r/nosleep/s/HFIxkEmjy2) I have been copied multiple times since my last post. It is currently 09/26/23. I watched a lot of footage and I have little time, so I will be uploading in two parts. Today I will be uploading Nick’s tapes, and tomorrow will be Ben’s.  Hopefully, soon after, I will be publishing my own and Allie’s. I have to be quiet, though. Our 'dad' is home soon. … I had to watch the tapes. Regardless of wanting to, I needed to know what was going on with my family. I needed to know why my bruises were disappearing—why I had replicas of myself replacing me growing up, and most importantly… the reason why my mother killed me only for me to come back hours later. Between my mother killing me and Ben, squeezing us to death and waking up the next morning, 101 versions of me had existed, and I had lost a whole night. I was no longer safe in the garage. Mom was following me around with a thermometer, convinced I was sick after my monumental freak-out at breakfast. That freak-out had been justified. Monumental was pushing it, though Mom has always been dramatic. I had a brother I didn’t know existed until he popped up out of nowhere at breakfast, and I was the crazy one? I was the only one who was questioning this random seventeen-year-old boy sitting at our breakfast table. Ben and Allie were already memeing it because of course they were. Ben had been suffocated along with me the night before by our psycho mother and didn’t remember a thing. He didn’t remember me mentioning his creepy replica laughing at us behind the door—or our mother screaming and tightening her hold around us, enough to pop our lungs and make me cough up blood. She killed both of us, and Ben was acting like nothing had happened, being his usual annoying self, trying to draw as much attention to himself as possible. More so, my brother didn’t have a printed number on his wrist.  Neither did Allie, nor this apparent new sibling.  So, I couldn’t record how many times they had been copied—by this unknown force that was somehow linked to the ancient tapes in our basement. I was determined to find out what was going on. I got a mouthful after breakfast when I was trying to sneak into the basement after being shooed up to my room by my mother. “If you’re sick, you will stay in your room,” she had told me sternly. Which was Mom-speak for, “If you’re sick, go to your room so I can grab my camera equipment and make a Tik-Tok about you feeling under the weather.” I hadn’t forgotten when Allie got the flu, and Mom made a 6-part series detailing every step through her recovery.  And I mean every step.  It reached a point when my brother convinced Allie to fake being well enough to go to school to escape Mom’s camera. Ben greeted me on the way downstairs, smiling through a mouthful of toothpaste. His long-sleeved shirt was hiding his wrist, so I couldn’t see a number. It was frustrating that I couldn’t talk to him about the night before, because he had forgotten our mother had fucking killed him. I was still trying to understand the sudden appearance of his replica wearing his features.  I could still remember the sight of it, a hollowed-out version of Ben with wide, maniacal eyes and a grinning mouth, a head of half-shaved hair, and blood staining that particular jacket. His smile wasn’t human. But I knew somehow that thing was still him. Just like the shadow girl wearing my face who replaced me at cheer practice the day before had somehow been me. The only thing I could discern from that version of him was the jacket. I had never seen him wear it. Ben’s expression was already alight with mischief.  He hung upside down from the staircase railing. “Yo, so do you have severe memory loss, or..?” “Go away.” He smirked, already knowing he was under my skin. “How about a brain-eating disease?” I couldn’t be bothered with dealing with my mind-wiped brother. “Go and wash your mouth out,” I told him, only for the second offender to join us. Ben and Allie are bad enough separately, but when they decide to come together, the two are insufferable with the same stupid sense of humor. Still, though, I had to act like nothing was wrong, so I played along, scanning both of them to see if they had been replaced. Allie was freshly dressed, her hair in its usual bouncing ponytail. I checked her wrist. No sign of a number. “Did you have like, a total brain-blank this morning?” Her eyes were wide. I could tell both of them were ready to tear me apart. “You acted like that crazy airplane lady.” “I’m telling you right now, that mother fucker back there is *not* real!” Ben mocked with a laugh, pointing towards the kitchen where the new sibling was, only for me to shoo him halfway back upstairs with a glare. The supposed new sibling chose that moment to appear, and my brother and sister were on him straight away like wild goddamn animals. “Hey, so, who are you again, bro?” Ben swung over the staircase railing, his lips curled into a grin. “I have never seen you before in my life." “Ben!” Mom slid past our little intervention on the way to the kitchen, shooting him warning eyes. I found it had to believe she cared about his well-being after suffocating him to death the night before. I noticed she looked… scared. “What did I tell you about swinging on the staircase?” Ben jumped down automatically. “Sorry, Mom.” When she was gone, he resumed position with an eye-roll. Immediately, the “Zoey is crazy” jokes continued. “He’s our long-lost brother who just appeared out of nowhere, remember?” Allie cackled. Nick shot me a look. I had barely known him a little over an hour, and whoever this strange boy was—he was equally done with ‘our’ siblings.  “Grow up, you cretin’s,” he grumbled to the two of them, nudging me. “I’m glad you remember my existence, Zoey,” he said, his words dripping with sarcasm. Nick didn’t say anything else, only grabbing my younger brother and dragging him upstairs, muttering about video games. The others started getting ready for school, so I took my chance and descended back down the basement steps.  The temperature had always been cold, but this kind of cold was almost cruel, biting into the bare flesh of my arms and legs. I instantly regretted not wearing a jacket and sticking with my pajamas. The room looked almost otherworldly, bathed in warm morning sunlight filtering in through the tiny window. But there was something about it that turned my stomach. I had been here. Recently.  And  I *didn’t remember.* I could remember the sensations of this memory, but there was nothing to reach out to. I could recall the feeling of my bare soles slapping on the concrete stairs— and someone behind me, their frightened breath prickling the back of my neck. I remembered the feeling of my heaving chest and my whirring thoughts, a terror I could not justify or understand. Blinking in fraying sunlight was almost like it was waking me up from a long slumber I didn’t realize I had been in, I had a sudden, overwhelming urge to look down at my hands. They were itching. They felt filthy and wrong like I hadn’t bathed in days; my whole body felt like it was tainted and slick with something I could not see. I stared down at my hand, my stomach slowly crawling into my throat. 101 copies of my body and memories existed, and yet I only knew the version I was at that present moment. If a version of me had come down to the basement in that lost time, I would find her memories soon enough. But first, I had to know who this so-called brother was, and why my siblings and I were being haunted by shadowy versions of ourselves. Don’t look around. The words formed in my head. *Eyes forward, Zoey.* I could feel the breath on my neck once more. *“Don’t break character,”* the voice was mine, and yet twisted and purged of emotion, a low murmur in my ear. I stared straight forward.  *You know what happens if you break character, Zoey,* she hummed, her slimy finger poking at the back of my neck and tangling in my hair. I could sense my wandering gaze already flicking to my hands. *Do you remember me?* I could hear it again.  Ben’s sobbing reverberated from the walls, heavy gasps of breath and sniffling getting louder and louder until I couldn’t stand it. *Don’t turn around.* I was always told to ignore what was in the corner of my eye— by a phantom voice I had never noticed until it was whispering into my skull. Ignoring it, I forced myself to focus. Sitting cross-legged on ice-cold concrete flooring in front of the ancient television, I slid the Nick. (V.1) tape into the machine. Nothing happened. I mean, the screen flickered a few times like it was trying to show me something before it went black. I tried it again, only for the same thing to happen. So, Nick. V.1 was a no-go. I went back into the box of tapes and pulled out another one with his name. Nick. (V.0.) This tape did work. I found myself staring into swimming galvanic blue before the screen switched to old footage of our backyard. Just like the tape with little me, it was filming the exact spot. **09/07/1999.** Compared to the footage of me, this was OLD.  The film was jumping around everywhere, swimming in color before stabilizing itself between four flickering lines splitting the video.  I could just about make out a small boy sitting on the same wall little me had sat. This kid was maybe five or six years old with dark brown hair and a grinning smile. It took me a moment to realize this video wasn’t muted like the tapes I had watched. “Nicholas! Look over here!" Mom’s voice crackled through the TV’s speakers, a blustery wind whipping her words away. “Say Hi to Mommy!” Her voice was gleeful, and I found myself transfixed by the small boy on the footage, kicking his legs and waving his arms. The camera zoomed in, and he shot another cheesy grin, waving wildly at the camera, kicking his legs.  “Nick, can you show me your magic trick again?” The tape went crazy, suddenly, the picture jumping up and down before settling. This time, though, it wasn't the 90's I was looking at.  Instead, I was looking at our couch, and a seventeen-year-old boy, his wrists tied behind his back. I recognized that same mess of dark brown curls.  The same boy who had appeared in our kitchen, claiming to be my brother. Something warm erupted in my throat. A blanket was thrown over him, and I could see dark red seeping through, stemming through pastel blue material. This footage had no sound, but I swore déjà vu crept up on me like I had seen it before. Like I had been standing right there when it happened.  I could imagine his breathy sobs and panicked cries, his muffled yelling. *See?* My own voice startled me, my shadow self once again standing behind me, breathing down my neck. I could see the curve of her in the corner of my eye. She didn’t have a face yet.  There was only static, like she was somehow part of the VCR itself, her existence bleeding into view piece by piece, the more I noticed, the fuller she became. Until I could see the twist of her grinning smile.  I forced myself to keep watching the screen. The tape snapped back to the old footage and the small boy did a shuffle dance, giggling. “Hi, Mommy!” He seemed entranced by something off-camera, and my Mom laughed. I could hear something rustling. “Can I have candy now?” “If you do the magic trick, I’ll give you pudding too.” His eyes widened. “Chocolate pudding?” “Double chocolate,” Mom laughed. “But don’t tell the others.” The boy’s expression seemed to crumple, and he stuck out his lip, his eyes wandering. “I don’t want to share with him,” he folded his arms.  “It’s *my* special treat.” Another boy with sandy blonde hair and a bright green raincoat jumped into the frame, waving to get Mom’s attention. I had a visceral reaction to seeing this boy, phantom crawlies filling my mouth and skittering up and down my spine. I could see so much of my brother in this kid, so why did I feel sick to my stomach? Why was my finger hovering over the pause button ready to stop it? “I want to be in a movie!” He stamped his feet. “It’s not fair!” He glared at the camera, wrinkling his nose.  “Why does Nick always get to be in movies?" “Ben, honey.” Mom spoke patiently. “Wait your turn. You’re all going to get a chance to be in the movie.”  Her voice broke a little. “I’m just filming Nick’s magic trick.” “But I can do a magic trick!” Ben whined. “Can you film me too?” He came right up to the lens, sticking his tongue out. “Please, please, please, pleassseeee!" “In a second,” Mom sighed. “Sweetie, can you move to the side a little?" The camera jolted back to a frowning Nick. “I can’t get your brother in frame.” “Fine!” Ben stomped off camera. I could still hear his voice through the whistling wind. “I don’t like you, anyway! You’re stupid!” He coughed, suddenly, and the camera swung back to him, almost panicked. Ben had his hands over his mouth. He scowled before swiping them on the front of his jacket. "You're mean for not watching my trick." He said, before stomping away and kicking a rock. "Ben, you know what we do when we cough," Mom said. "Show me your hands."  He did, running in frame and showing the palms of his hands. "Okay, sweetie, you're good." Ben marched off camera. “I’ll do my own magic tricks!” I thought Mom was going to invite Ben to join them, but oddly, she turned her focus back to the other boy, completely ignoring my brother. “Come on, Nick,” she said. “It’s just a small drop, and Mommy will catch you.” "But it's scary," he mumbled.  "I know you can do it, Nick." The kid hesitated before slowly lowering him off the wall into an awkward leap. But I never saw him hit the ground before his body reverted back to its original position.  I thought I had accidentally rewound the tape forwards but then he did it again, tipping backward off of the wall, and his body snapping back to seconds before. His whole form seemed to blur in and out of existence, flickering colors and lines enveloping him.  It wasn’t the tape that was rewinding, I realized, something sour creeping up my throat. It was Nick. Even weirder, both my mother and him were completely aware of what was going on. Nick was giggling, squealing when his body snapped backward like a magnet. I couldn't stop watching, my gut twisting. “I did it!” He excitedly jumped to his feet, and I heard my Mom’s sharp intake of breath when his foot slipped and he tumbled off the wall, but he just rewound, quite literally, back to when he was sitting with his legs dangling. “You did!” Mom was equally excited. “I am so proud of you!” “I can do it too!” I saw a flash of Ben’s swinging arm.  “Look, Mommy! I can do it better than him!" The sudden sound of something popping, of flesh ripping apart, made my stomach churn. I had to swallow down a bout of barf trying to wrangle its way into my mouth.  The footage jumped around and I had no idea what was happening.  All I could see was Nick’s face slowly twisting from excitement into horror, his eyes widening. Then, in a sudden cut, his face was splattered with dripping red, and he was screaming. It was almost like the tape itself was trying to hide what had happened. It flicked forward and backward, back to Nick jumping off the wall, and then to Ben’s grinning face. Before snapping back to my mom’s unearthly screams and the camera falling to the ground. I could glimpse a glistening scarlet painting the concrete pathway.  *“Ben?"* Mom was speaking through sharp breaths. I could hear her stumbling footsteps. Nick jumped off of the wall, and her breath caught.  “No. No, go inside right now,” her voice shook, hysteria slowly creeping in. “Do you hear me? Go inside!” “But Mommy,” Nick whimpered. “Where did Ben go?" I could hear the turmoil, the agony, in her cry. “I don’t know! I don’t… I just… just go inside and shut the door and do not come out!” The sound of shuffling footsteps faded down the path, and the camera showed nothing but a patch of bleeding red pooling across rough concrete. This time the footage jumped to **09/10/1999.** Mom was filming the back wall again. But this time there was no Nick. She stood for a few seconds filming the wall, and then slowly walked through the back entrance into our house. The footage this time was grainy and drained of color, flicking back and forth between dull color and black and white. She filmed the lounge which was filled with toys and rotting food on plates, flies buzzing around. Then she went to the kitchen, panning around the dirty dishes and the faucet, takeout cartons, and beer bottles. It was almost like the soul had been ripped from the tape itself. The house was silent. I could hear nothing but Mom’s shuddery breaths behind the camera. When she stumbled back out into our yard, I noticed the blood was still there, stained and ingrained into the concrete. Mom stood in the exact spot and zoomed straight onto the wall, where Nick had previously sat.  The camera shook. “Let’s all take a photo,” her voice was a dull murmur, the film trembling with her hands.  “Come on, everyone,” she said. “Everyone on to the wall, so we can all take one last photo for Mommy.”  Her laugh made me wince, shuffling away from the speakers. “Ben, stop teasing your brother,” she zoomed in on thin air, giggling to herself. The camera snapped to the end of the wall. “Allison, stand next to your sister. Hold her hand. Yes,” she hummed. “I want all twelve of you to give me a big smile." Thankfully, the camera jumped ahead once again. **10/15/1999** Mom was still standing in the exact same spot, filming the wall. I could see the season had changed around her, our backyard was filled with fall leaves. I did glimpse one detail that was out of place. The ground in the yard next to the wall looked to be uneven, all of the flowers dug up. The random patch of soil looked out of place. When the tape switched to another more modern setting, I almost jumped back. It’s like this tape was taking me backward and forward in time. I found myself looking at Ben. Seventeen-year-old Ben. The brother I knew presently.  The film did not look like it belonged on this tape, more like it had been spliced together with the footage I was watching on Nick’s tape. The colors were too bright. I didn’t recognize the room he was sitting in. It was dark, barely lit by a flittering bulb above casting his face in a sickly light. He was sitting at a small table in a rickety wooden chair, slumped back with his arms folded, his gaze glued to the camera. This wasn’t recent. Ben looked maybe a year or two younger, though what I did recognize was that same hollowed-out look in his eye, the exact one I had seen on his replica.  This Ben both looked like my brother and didn’t. His hair, oddly, was a different color, a more reddish tone. He looked dishevelled, strands of hair sticking up everywhere, a blue and gold football jersey hanging off his shoulders. Ben did not play football. In his words, “It’s a sport for people who are bored” and he only came to see me cheer if there was free food.  I noticed smeared red on his collar, and already, I wanted to turn it off. Something stopped me, however. Because maybe I was insane, but I could have sworn my brother looked… dated. His hairstyle, all the way down to the way he was dressed, was severely dated, despite the modern setting lit up around him.  “Sit up straight,” the cold voice on the other end of the camera was my mother, and he ignored her, his head lolling, lips growing into a grin and then crumpling into a cry.  “I want you to tell me your name, " she said cooly.  It took me a moment to understand my brother’s eyes were staring right through the lens. He cocked his head, and it was almost inhuman the way he moved, just like little Nick on the wall, his head blurring in and out of view. His body arched back, lips carving into  pained cry. I don’t think he could control whatever this thing was. When his body had stabilized, my brother leaned his chin on his fist, his lips breaking out into a feral smile. I glimpsed Ben. (V.305) printed on his wrist. He twitched again, all of him contorting on the chair, colors streaming into his face and blurring him out completely, and then snapping his body back to its original position. It looked more painful, his bones twisting, eyes rolling back. He was doing the exact same thing as little Nick, but something was wrong. With Nick, it looked natural. With my brother, however, it was more of an aggressive virus writhing through him. “My name is blahblahblahblahablah,” Ben announced. His gaze found something off-camera, his lips widening into a grin. “And I’m playing the part of your son!” He lunged forward, and the camera moved back slowly, filming every inch of mania tangled in my brother’s eyes. “Right, *Mommy*?” The last piece of footage came up in a buzz of static, my brother’s inhuman grin bleeding into what looked like a graveyard. It was the exact same grave I saw in the funeral footage. But this time it was months later, the sky illuminated by dancing snowflakes. I could barely see anything. Just a still image of my mother standing in front of the small grave. The date was hard to see, though I could just about make out **12/15/1999** flickering at the top of the screen. The camera moved closer—this time from a different perspective. As they got closer, I could see my mother better.  She wore nothing but jeans and a shirt, snowflakes clinging to straggly hair dangling in her face. When she dropped down onto her knees, the person dropped the camera, and I could make out a shadow moving towards my mom in the dark, arms coming out to wrap her into a hug.  It was a woman.  “Alice?” she spoke hesitantly at first, and then again when my mother didn’t move, pressing her forehead into the marble headstone. “Sweetie, I know it’s been rough,” the woman spoke in a low murmur, her voice growing colder when Mom shuffled back and started clawing at the dirt of the grave. “Alice,” she whispered. “You need to get a hold of yourself.” There was movement and the rustling of clothes. She stepped into a dusting of snow and knelt next to Mom. “You’re freezing! Look, take my jacket, okay?" She looked important, wearing a black suit, and raybans, carrying a matching umbrella which she awkwardly held over Mom’s head. The woman pulled off her coat, but Mom wrenched away, her eyes wide. “No.” Mom said in a breath. She slammed her hands over her ears, shaking her head. “No, no, no, no!” When she jumped to her feet, the woman was quick to stop her.  But she didn’t listen. I don’t even think my Mom knew this woman was there. Her eyes were blank, unseeing, staring through the winter night. She dropped down to the frozen soil and pressed her hands into the grave. “They’re here,” she sobbed. And when her head jerked around, my mother stumbled over to the camera and grabbed it, her dead eyes peering into the lens.  “Always right here,” she said in a hysterical laugh. “I still have them right here. Right here. Right here. **Right here.”** There was a sharp thud sound, and the camera jolted to a different angle. This time it was from the ground. I could make out the shape of the woman’s head, but there were no discernible features. Mom’s sharp breaths collapsed into sobs. “I’m still their mother, right?” The woman pressed something to her ear—a phone. I squinted, looking closer.  In this footage from 1999, this woman was holding an iPhone 10. “Give me a moment," she murmured into the phone, then turning her attention to my mother.  “Alice, you know I can’t answer that.”  I leaned closer to the TV to try and figure out her face, though it was too pixelated. “You need to remember they are not—" her voice cut out, "and we really need to talk about—” The video skipped ahead again. Mom was screaming, rocking backward and forwards, and the woman was trying to calm her down. "Alice, you need to listen to me," she said. "You have to promise me you won't do something stupid. Are we clear? Because I can't protect you if you act with emotion." I didn't see the slap, though I heard it, the raw cut of skin against skin.  Mom's shrieks slammed into me, and I stabbed pause, my breath in my throat, my own hands already mimicking hers, ready to block out the noise and squeeze my eyes shut. But once I was burying my head in my lap and forcing myself to take deep breaths, my thoughts snapped into focus. There was something—no, someone behind me. Not just that. My head was pounding, a dull thrum stabbing across the back of my skull.  I couldn’t breathe, and when I tried to grasp hold of my throat, I couldn’t feel my hands. They were behind me. Bound to my back. There was something warm running down my face, trickling down my chin, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t move. She was back, and her presence was suffocating me. I could glimpse her getting closer, dancing toward me, her arms thrusting out, ready to-- *“Zoey?"* The dancing dots in my eyes faded, and I let out a strangled breath, clinging onto the plastic box in front of me. It felt real, and that was enough. All at once, I could breathe again. I could move. Blinking rapidly, I crawled away from the television, pressing two fingers to my nose and lips, where I could still feel the sensation of blood staining my face and trickling down my chin. I could feel the prickle of the rope binding my arms behind my back, and the lacerations slicing, cutting, and raw into my flesh. Except there was nothing there. I stared down at my hands and tried to find them, trying to find the blood that was wet on my lips and salting my tongue.  Nothing.  “What are you doing down here?” Twisting around, I managed to shove the tapes under a shelf with my knee. Nick was standing on the top of the staircase, peering down at me. He looked almost otherworldly, standing under the flickering golden bulb. “Mom says we’re not allowed down here,” he said. “Dinner is ready.” *Dinner?* I felt dizzy, my head swimming.  But it was 8am, right? When I managed to drag myself back up the basement steps and into the kitchen where Mom was filming a “What I eat in a day” it hit me that I had been watching tapes for almost eight hours. I checked the number on my wrist feverishly, though the digits were still the same. Zoey. (V. 1,780.)  *I was still the same version I had been earlier that morning, right?* I took my usual seat at the table, and the second I sat down I knew there was a different atmosphere. Mom had already served each of us, focusing on setting up her camera equipment. Allie was sitting stiff, while Ben acted like his plate was carrying a contagious disease. I noticed neither of them were talking or making eye contact—and when I fully drank in my brother, something ice cold crept down my spine. He was wearing the exact same jacket I saw torn and hanging off of his psycho replica. This begged the question: *Was this the beginning of that version of Ben?* Before that thought could fully flourish, Mom placed a glass of orange juice in front of me. “All right, I want you all on your best behavior,” she said, when Nick slumped into the seat next to mine, and immediately began shovelling pasta into his mouth. The four of us stayed silent. When Mom started recording, Ben kicked me under the table. “Hey, Mommy’s!” Mom said gleefully into her camera, doing a pan of the table which was set up with bowls of breadsticks and salad.  “So, tonight, we’re going to be having Chicken Alfredo! I did my own recipe, and it’s gluten-free of course, since all you mommy's have been begging me for a dinner video—" Ignoring Mom’s voice, I focused on my brother’s scowl. I already knew just by looking at the strain in his expression, the curl in his lip, and Allie’s too-wide smile.  *They knew.* But how could they know? I tried to check out their wrists, but both of them were hiding them. Allie’s arms were folded, while Ben’s sleeves were pulled right down to the cuffs.  Ben kicked me again, and I shot him a look. “Later.” I mouthed.  After sitting through almost half an hour of my mother trying to force-feed me pasta with a cute, quirky smile to the camera, I knew I had to say something about the tapes. If I didn’t, I was going to go crazy. “Mom,” I said when she was happily chewing on a breadstick, commenting on the garlic sauce.  “Stop.”  She didn’t listen to me, only shooting me a warning smile that I was interrupting her filming. I forced myself not to look at the door, where a shadow was already bleeding, blurring into reality. I turned away from my replica, like she was disappear if I blinked enough times.  "I think the other me has broken character.” "Hmm?" She inclined her head, pausing filming. Turning to my siblings, I prayed they would back me up. If they knew something was wrong, then they had to know about our existence. "Broken character," I repeated. "All of the versions of me who you killed." Mom's smile didn't waver. "Zoey, are you feeling okay?" She cleared her throat, speaking in her fake voice.  "Excuse my daughter. She has an, uh, a twisted sense of humor." “You're not our Mom,” I said through gritted teeth. Immediately, Mom stopped filming. She didn’t move, her gaze never leaving mine. I continued, albeit shakily. “There are tapes in the basement,” I managed to get out. Ben wasn’t looking at me, glaring down at his plate, and Allie was still smiling through her dinner, tears glistening in her eyes. Nick was still eating,  completely oblivious, ignoring everyone around him. “And there are kids that aren’t…they're not…” I swallowed hard, struggling to coerce the words. I had no idea how to say it because what exactly did I see? I saw a funeral for my brother, who was sitting right across from me. I saw him explode into red mist. And that version of him didn't come back.  I lost my breath, instantly, and Mom’s smile returned. "Nicholas, stop eating like an animal, you are going to choke," she chastised him, before her gaze found mine. “Zoey, you have a fever,” she said in a hum. “Why don’t you head upstairs? I can bring you some of my special vegetable soup. I think you just need a good night's rest, sweetie."  “I know.” Ben surprised me by dropping his fork, drawing our mother’s gaze to him. When he moved his arm, the sleeve of his jacket slightly rode up his arm, and I finally saw a number. (Ben. V. 30012.) His lip curled into a scowl.  I saw that same light I’d seen in his replica’s eyes, and something twisted in my gut. I wasn’t looking at my brother from earlier at breakfast. This version was different. Darker. Wherever he had come from, he knew about the tapes. “Yeah, I know,” my brother spat. “Do you know how many fucking times we’ve had this conversation—” He stopped, drawing in a startled breath, when Mom jumped up from her chair, grabbed the knife she had used to cut through breadsticks, and came behind him, pressing the blade to his throat. Allie screamed and jumped up from her chair, only to slump back down with a whimper.   “I said, that is enough,” Mom spoke calmly, her fingers wrapped around the blade. “I wanted a nice, quiet dinner with my children, and you ruin it with your theatrics,” she spoke through a hiss. “You’re my babies, and you’re going to be… silent.” She pressed pressure on the knife, and Ben hissed out. Mom’s gaze flicked to me. “Zoey, go and get whatever you found and bring them here right now,” she ordered. “She’s lying,” Ben said in a scoff. “She’s not our mother,” his expression darkened, lips spreading out into a surprising grin. “Actually! Here’s the kicker! We’re not even—” Mom jerked the knife, the blade slicing straight through his flesh and carving the words directly from his throat. “Oh, sweetie,” Mom dropped the knife and wrapped her arms around him, lolling his body from side to side. “I told you not to play with sharp things.” She hummed. “Now, I want you all to be perfect, and that MEANS perfect. Including all those bad, bad thoughts in your mind.” My brother did not bleed like normal people. He didn’t react to having his throat sliced open like normal people, either. Instead of crying out or even reacting, his smile only widened, sharp red starting to slip down his throat in a river of red before he burst into a spattering red mist that showered the table. Allie was next. I didn’t see it, instead squeezing my eyes shut. I heard her squeak, and something wet and warm hit me in the face. I could sense their replicas already bleeding into reality. I refused to look at them. Allie’s chair shifted, and then so did Ben’s. I opened my eyes to see if these versions were twisted and wrong, but I found myself staring at two empty chairs.  When my gaze flicked to the doorway, I saw myself peeking, like she knew exactly what would happen next. Turning to Nick, he was still eating, forking up pieces of pasta that were covered in my siblings’ blood, and stuffing it into his mouth. I waited for their replicas to appear, and yet neither of them did. There was only mine, watching me with that same monstrous grin contorting my lips. I was ready to finally confront this version of me when something cold and cruel grazed the skin of my throat. “I want all of my children to be perfect,” Mom’s smooth voice was in my ear.  “Because they’re *here,”* she pressed harder on the blade, dragging the teeth across my throat.  I couldn’t breathe.  “Always been here,” Mom’s voice was a sing-song. I knew my hands were already on my throat, wet and slick with my own blood, but she kept going, as I gurgled on breaths.  “Always here.” Her words were still alive in my mind, her breath warm in my ear, when I dived up from my bed, back in my bedroom, choking on phantom blood filling my mouth. I checked the time, and then my wrist. 8am. I had lost not just one day, but four days. Four days of being completely out of it. I looked down at my wrist. **Zoey. V. 1,785.** Five versions of me had existed while I was out. I didn’t bother with my morning routine. I needed to get down to the basement to watch the rest of the tapes. Then I was grabbing my siblings, or ‘siblings’, and getting the fuck out of here. When I hammered on their doors, there was no answer. I checked both of them, and neither of my siblings was in their rooms.  I started to panic. Neither of them had a replica replace them the night before. The kitchen was empty when I peeked in, and so was the lounge. Fuck. I started toward the basement, my heart trying to projectile itself from my chest when a hand grabbed my shoulder.  “What’s going on with you?” Allie spoke with a yawn. When I twisted around, I was greeted with my sister’s sleepy smile. “You’re all jumpy,” she poked me. “Shouldn’t you be heading in for breakfast? Mom’s making pancakes.” The innocent naivety on my sister’s face broke my heart. This was another version of her—a brand new perfect model who did not ask questions. I forced myself to nod. “Yeah, I’m going to grab my pom-poms from the basement,” I said with a smile, catching a flash of her wrist. Still no number. I had seen numbers printed on myself and my brother, but why not her? Allie cocked her head. “Wasn’t your game yesterday?” I didn’t think about the time that I had lost. I had lived through three whole days and five different versions of myself while being unconscious. While I was struggling to answer her, there was another tap on my shoulder. “Move. You’re both in my way,” Ben shoved past us with a grin. “I've got the bathroom first.” His gaze found mine, and I saw the slightest hint of blue light in his eyes. The same light that had come from the tapes. “What?” Allie protested. “No, that’s not fair! It’s Sunday! I have things to do!” He folded his arms. “Oh, like meet up with your not-secret-at-all-boyfriend?” I left the two of them, determined to find the real versions who died the night before. After waiting for everyone to clear the hallway, I slipped back down to the basement, and to my surprise, the tapes were exactly where I had left them. I picked out a tape that simply said: Ben. (V.1) Galvanic blue washed over my face, and once again, I had that urge to... look down at my hands. I felt my body stiffen under the light, my gaze already dropping towards my hands planted in my lap. At first, there was nothing. I was just staring down at my regular hands. Then. Something snapped inside my mind, a belt that, until then, had been wrapped around my brain, suffocating me.  Under the sickly glow of my basement lights, I could see markings carved into my skin; tally’s that had been crossed out, and numbers in their hundreds and then thousands. They started in marker, before being cruelly carved and sliced into my skin. So many versions of myself written, scrawled all over my flesh. I found number one on the back of my hand. The carving was old, and so was the ink that had been pencilled over it. In a single moment, I could feel the rope around my wrists and blood crusted under my nose and choked at the back of my throat. My vision blurred, and I swore I had moved just a single inch to the left. When the TV screen lit up with static footage, I lifted my head, hypnotized by the light. I already knew at the back of my mind, that once I wasn’t thinking about this condition I was in for just a second—I instantly forgot about the markings. The pain, and my own strangled breaths that were still phantom around me, a version of me who had been tortured inside this room. The tape didn’t work at first. I mean it did, though there was something wrong with it. It attempted to show me something, before going black. I ejected the tape, blew on it, and shoved it back into the player.  I could see the dark room and Ben sitting on the chair once again, wrapped in a football jersey. This was the original footage from what I had seen earlier. The Ben on this tape was different. If anything, he looked confused, staring wide-eyed at the camera, his lips curled into a silent cry. The film was overlapped with another cut of footage, which this time depicted what looked like a high school football game from the perspective of someone who appeared to be hiding. I could barely see anything, only a grainy picture of a football field and several blurs in blue and gold. The date stapled at the top of the screen:  **12/07/1984** The tape snapped back to the room with my brother sitting in the chair, and a thought crawled into my mind, invasive and pushing. This was the start of the film I had already seen earlier when Ben had… I couldn’t put a word to whatever this thing was. He was like a human video tape. His eyes were half lidded, glued to something off-screen.  “Don’t look at her,” Mom’s voice had a cold edge to it. “Look at me.” Ben's gaze found the camera.  "But... who are you?" His head twitched again, dilated pupils  flickering a variety of colors I could barely register. This version of him, however, was terrified of what was happening to him. He jolted again, eyes growing wide with terror. I saw his wrist, the ink printed on his skin. It was fresh, only recently forming. **Ben (V.1)** Something acidic gathered in the back of my mouth. I was looking right at the beginning of my brother.  Mom pushed across a glass of water, and Ben's arm whirred in and out of reality, trying to grasp hold of it.  "I am your mother, of course."

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16swzc2/i_am_the_daughter_of_a_tiktok_family_channel_i/

nosleep

Trash_Tia

I think I’m the last person alive in the warehouse…

Today started off as a normal day. We brought boxes in from the huge trucks that park outside the warehouse first thing in the morning. We put the boxes on the correct shelves and labeled them. Until we heard the crash. Everyone rushed over to the source of the noise quickly, and there, on the floor, was one of our coworkers, crushed underneath a shelf. In a warehouse of 6 people, we all knew each other well, and everyone was shocked. We tried to call 911, but of course, the signal was gone. I don’t know what we expected, our controlling boss had literally put up signal blockers to stop people from “getting off task”. I was the only person in the warehouse who had 5G and could actually get the smallest bit of signal. I called the manager, but there was no response, just the prerecorded message. Everyone was basically in hysterics, but I tried to stay calm. “Two people need to leave the building and go look for help. The other two can stay here with me and see if she’s alive.” I said in what I thought was a commanding voice, but I couldn’t even convince myself. I didn’t expect the two coworkers who were staying with me, Sarah and Jess, to try and figure out if Lucy, the girl who was crushed, was alive, so I knew I had to. With a deep breath, i hoisted the shelf up off of her and gasped. She was mutilated, there were deep cuts where the shelf had fallen onto her. I put two fingers on her neck. “No pulse.” I said solemnly. By then I was ready to just wait until the others got back, but to my surprise one of them was already walking towards us. “The exits have been blocked.” Josh said. “There’s no way this is really happening.” I looked around. I knew that Sarah and Jess had stayed with me, and that I had sent Josh and Arun to go get help. But there was no sign of Arun. I stared at Josh, “Where’s Arun?!” He looked at the floor and told me that Arun was missing. He said that Arun had gone to the back exit and that he hadn’t seen him since. I was scared, but I didn’t try to put up a facade this time. “Oh no, oh no, oh no, no no no this isn’t happening…” I mumbled, more to myself then to anyone else. I had watched Mirror of Murder VI that previous weekend and went straight into survival mode. “We need to have some kind of protection in case something comes for us.” Sarah looked concerned, “No, we need to get out of here. Obviously Arun went out the back exit? That’s why he didn’t come back. Help is on the way.” I wasn’t buying it. “Nope, no way, I’m not risking my life. Let’s stay here. We have weapons, we have heavy shelves that we can use to block ourselves in.” Sarah just looked at Jess. Jess, not wanting to betray her best friend, got up and walked over to Sarah. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But I’m going with her.” I looked at Josh, and from the look he gave back to me, I knew that he was in my side. Right before I was about to open my mouth to say something, my phone rung. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw that I was being by called by an unknown number. I hit the Accept button. “Please help, she’s dead and my other coworker is missing, please —“ I was interrupted by the other person. “Don’t worry, it’s Arun, I’m safe and hiding in the storage closet.” “Oh my god Arun!” “I’m okay, but something’s in here.” “In the closet with you?” “No, in the warehouse. I think there are some weapons in here. Quickly, come to me.” I agreed and hung up. “Come on guys, Arun is safe and in the storage closet, but we need to get the quickly. No questions.” Sarah rolled her eyes and opened her mouth but I repeated that there was to be no questions. We all speed-walked over to the storage closet. I opened the door and something fell out. It was Arun. We all stood there around his body, which was face down on the floor, until a face popped out from the shadows of the closet. “Run” it snarled. I shot off and ran as fast as I’ve ever run in my entire life. I turned back and saw it hitting a box over Sarahs head. She had tripped over and was too slow to get back up. I turned back and almost ran straight into a wall. I quickly turned and slammed into the door of the men’s restroom. The nearest stall to the door was the one I chose to hide in. I held my breath and pulled out my phone, desperately trying to call someone. I heard a loud bang and immediately noticed it as the sound of the door opening. Footsteps started getting closer to me. I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes until he spoke up. “George?” I heard my name, but more than that, I heard my name come out of Josh’s mouth. I whispered as quietly as I could for him to get in to the stall next to me. I saw his feet go into the stall. And now I’m scared. I keep hearing bangs, screams, laughs, I don’t even know what else. I’m terrified that whatever that thing was will find me. But listen to this: never, EVER go to XXXXXXXX Avenue unless you want to die.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16tisx2/i_think_im_the_last_person_alive_in_the_warehouse/

nosleep

TheOnlyAmericanKid

I See Corpses' Glow, and I Wish I Didn't

[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16s85s5/i_see_corpses_glow/) Your guys’ comments on my last post helped break the spell, and I’m grateful. I don’t know what they did to me, but when I read my last post, I cringed. They made me say stuff, *believe* stuff, I never would have. I don't want to help my kidnappers. And I hate this room. It has no windows and they’ve locked me in. And the phone, while new, isn't my favorite and it's chained to the wall. I also *know* there are mutilated bodies in the hospital gardens. I saw them. And those promises Cassiopeia made me give? I don't know how, but I can’t break them. I called my parents and my friends, but I couldn’t seem to tell them anything that happened. I also tried to call the police, but my fingers refused to dial anything. Your comments broke the haze they had me in and made me realize how strange that was. Maybe it’s for the better that I can't let anyone know. Mika said they have people in the force. What if they tell on me and kill me? They also know my address. What if they go after my family? I'm just glad the promise didn't forbid me from letting complete strangers know of my situation, because you guys gave me advice that both terrified me yet prepared me. I don't know how they can do what they do, but I should avoid eye contact and avoid making promises with them until I'm safe. I know I already promised to help find Cassiopeia's brother, but maybe I can weasel my way out of that. I've already gotten dressed and I'm hyping myself up. Hang on, someone is unlocking the door. It's very early morning now, I’ll continue writing this later ... If I’m still alive. … I'm back, it's late, and I'm a shaking mess. I don't know how to even explain what happened today or all the crazy things I learned. You guys were right. These people aren’t human, and there are other non-humans out there too, and it’s terrifying. Today started when a guy around my age unlocked the door and brought me breakfast. My pulse raced as I prepared to fight for my rights, but his appearance made me forget all that for a second. I couldn't look away. He was cuter than any boy I’d ever seen, his canines prominent, eyes just as green as Mika’s, hair a tousled mess of the deepest red. "Good morning, I hope you slept well!" He said, walking in with a bright smile. “I … I …” “It’s nice to meet you! There’s been a lot of talk since Mika brought you in last night.“ He nodded at the tray in his hands. “I made you breakfast. I'm Desmod. Cassiopeia thought you'd be more comfortable dealing with someone closer to your age." The smell of fried eggs snapped me out of my trance, and my cheeks heated up as I crossed my arms and looked away. "I'm n-not comfortable dealing with any of you," I said, tension hitching my voice. "I want to go home … after I help Cassiopeia find her brother." I blinked in shock. "No, wait. I didn't mean to say that!" He chuckled. "I know, Cassiopeia persuaded you." I blinked again, not expecting him to admit anything. "She was talking about how you barely had a barrier," he said, placing the tray on the desk. "Most people put one up, but she said you were very innocent and so eager to learn about your gift that it was a piece of cake." I frowned in uneasy offense. "I didn't know she was going to hypnotize me, or I'd have put one up." "It wasn't hypnosis, it was persuasion." "No, it was more than that. She hypnotized me to make promises I never would have made, and now I can't break them." "Yeah, all us folk here can use promises to our advantage, but Cassiopeia and Mika have it easier because they can persuade you to do it. Um ... is there a reason you're not looking at me?" I tensed up and stepped back. "I don't want to be hypnotized." He chuckled. "And here I thought you're intimidated because I'm really really really ridiculously good-looking." I stared at the ground in silent bewilderment, not expecting a playful movie quote or self-aware vanity. "Don't worry," he continued, "only Cassiopeia and Mika can persuade, and they do it with touch, not looks." I shook my head. "That's a lie. Her eyes were practically glowing." "I mean, the eyes do help people relax a bit, we all have it, but persuasion is all in the touch. Or else Mika could have persuaded you to spill your secret without threatening you. But he's a germaphobe and hates physical contact unless it’s absolutely necessary." I frowned, my pulse racing faster as I took in his words. "Will you please look at me?" Desmod said. "It feels weird having a conversation when the other person is staring at the floor. I promise I won't bite." After a few hesitant seconds, I turned my gaze towards him, and he smiled. "You've got really pretty eyes. Are they black or are your pupils super dilated or something?" "Um … th-they're black," I reply, wary as I prepared myself to look away the moment I felt my mind invaded. "Never seen black eyes before! I mean, on a human. I know other creatures have them." He looked around. "Are you comfortable here? Do you need anything? More pillows?" "Nothing can make a prison cell comfortable." "This isn't a cell, it's a guest room! Cassiopeia just wanted to keep the door locked because she didn’t want you getting lost or going to places you shouldn’t be. This place is pretty big. And all rooms here lack windows, not just yours, because we're underground." I stared at him, startled. "Underground?" "Yeah, safer." I gulped. "From … from who?" "The packs, flocks, and pods." My stomach growled, half from hunger, half from tension, and he raised his eyebrows in concern before he quickly gestured to the tray. “You're hungry. Here, I made you some scrambled eggs with toast and orange juice. Would you like anything else?” I shook my head, his relative harmlessness not quite erasing my discomfort. "I d-don't want anything from you guys. I want to go home …. After I help find Cassiopeia’s brother." Damn it! “And you will,” Desmod said. I scoured my mind for a way to bypass the promise, and I ended up blurting out, "I don't want to help murderers." I blanched as my stomach knotted, afraid of provoking my captors, but Desmod didn’t seem offended as he shrugged. "It's kind of hard to avoid deaths when you're at war." "War?" I asked with a nervous frown. “What war?” "The one between us and the packs, flocks, and pods." "What *are* those?" "Don't worry, it doesn't really affect you." "How doesn't it affect me?" I asked, my nerves cropping up in my tone. "You … you guys buried hundreds of mutilated bodies in my city. If there's a war, it's literally in my backyard!" He smiled and lifted a hip to perch on the desk. "We didn't bury anything in your city." I narrowed my eyes at him. "You and Cassiopeia can't gaslight me. I *saw* them." "That's the cool part! It's why Mika brought you over. You literally saw across spheres." I did a double take in confusion. "What?" He cupped his hands one atop the other, creating a ball. "This is your sphere, the world you know. Overlapping it is our sphere. We can't see you and you can't see us, but we can shift to your sphere whenever we want. Well, I can’t, yet. But in a few months I’ll be able to!" He chuckled and put his hands down. "We just have to be careful, because the spheres aren't identical. For example, here, we're in your room in our underground fortress. In your sphere, this exact location is half a mile in the earth beneath Mercy Care Hospital. And your bustling city and the surrounding woods, towns, and bay? Here, it's a sprawling, lifeless desert. That explains why you never saw weird glows before now!" My face twitched as bafflement and shock toyed with my expression. "So, the bodies you saw, they're buried here, on our sphere," Desmod continued. "But somehow, you saw their glow from yours! That's pretty awesome." I felt dizzy and stumbled back onto the bed, staring at the ground in disbelief. "So … I'm not in my … sphere now?" "No." "How do I get back?" "You need one of us to transport you. Well, not me, not yet." “How … how was I able to talk to my parents and friends and go online?” “Our tech lets us connect easily with your sphere.” I looked up at him with apprehension. "Wh-What are you guys?" "It doesn't matter right now. What does matter is your energy." He stood up and nodded at my breakfast. "Eat, and I’ll drop by in fifty minutes to escort you to the car," he said as he walked backwards to the door. “Can’t wait to see what you can do!” He closed and locked the door, but I didn't move, his words twirling through my stunned mind. Was everything he said true, or was he messing with me? Or did he persuade me? No, it couldn't be, because my mind is clear. When Cassiopeia did it, it felt like a haze was keeping me docile and stupid. Desmod seemed genuine, but what he said was utterly outside the realm of reality. Was there really a whole other sphere overlapping ours? What was he? What were they? Why could they travel between spheres but we didn’t even know spheres existed? I didn’t know fifty minutes had passed until Desmod returned, and he frowned at the untouched tray. "You didn't eat." "I'm not hungry," I muttered, still sitting on the bed. "I don't feel good." "It's because you didn't eat." He pulled a protein bar out of his pocket. "Here, maybe you'll like this better." "Oh, um … thanks," I said, hesitating before I reached for it. "Sure thing! But you better eat it quick on the way to the car, Mika hates crumbs all over his seats. Come, follow me!" My body stood up and followed him, even though my mind was protesting. Flooded with unease at the power a promise had, I tried to find another way to ensure my safety as Desmod led me through a drab, gray hall. "Desmond?" He looked back. "Yeah? And it's Des*mod*, by the way." "Oh. Never heard that name before." "I know, I picked it out myself," he said with a proud smile as he slowed down to walk beside me. I frowned. "You picked your own name?" "We all do, at a certain stage. Better than ending up with one you hate. Do you like your name?" I nodded. "Yeah, it works with me, and I like what it means. Does yours mean anything?" He shot me a mischievous smirk. "It does, I'll wait for you to figure it out." His good-natured attitude and courtesy continued dulling my discomfort, but they weren't enough to distract me from my looming task, my subservience against my will, and my imprisonment, despite Desmod's insistence otherwise. After an anxious second, I asked, “You guys will take me back home after all this, right?" "Of course!" "Even after everything you told me?" He shrugged. "Not like anyone would believe you." “Where are we going now?” “We’re going to where we’re most likely to find Cassiopeia’s brother.” “And where is that?” He hesitated before he said, “Enemy territory.” I tensed up. “What! Isn’t that dangerous?” “Don’t worry, we won’t let anything happen to you.” Desmod opened a door at the far end of the hall and gestured inside. “Mika and his team will protect you.” My tension didn’t ebb as I found myself facing Mika and seven of his thugs. They were dressed in strange black suits that made them look like goth astronauts, their helmets like iridescent, upsidedown fishbowls. They were piling weapons into the back of two black, tank-like vehicles, and I gulped as I took a step back. “Put your armor on and get in the car,” Mika said. “We’ll join you shortly.” “Wh-Why can’t I see the glowmains from my sphere?” I asked Mika before I turned to Desmod. “You said I could see them from there. Isn’t that safer?” Mika sighed. “This location is a valley on our sphere, but Mount Kilimanjaro in yours. You mentioned that you only see death glows in air, and that the deeper the bodies, the smaller the death glow. Hence, they will be too deep for you to detect on your sphere.” “Wait, wait.” I stared at him in confused shock. “Kilimanjaro? Isn’t … isn't that in Africa or something?” “Yes, Tanzania,” Desmod replied. I turned to him, stunned. “We’re going to Tanzania?” “Well, it’s not called that here.” “We’re going that distance in these …" I gestured to the cars. "... these tanks?” “Yes. They're multipurpose. They can be subs and planes if they need to. They can even hover!” I studied the vehicles in disbelief. “What?” “Come, check it out!” Desmod said, opening a car door for me. “Wait.” Mika studied what was in my hand. “No food in my car.” Desmod rolled his eyes before he turned to me. “Just eat it quick.” “I … I’m not hungry.” “No problem, just toss it there,” he said, pointing to a shelf. “And wear your armor,” Mika said. I shelved my breakfast, and I hugged myself when Desmod dragged over a bulky heap, my pulse accelerating. “I’ll help you get into yours,” he said, snapping open buckles before kneeling. “Just put your legs through here, and I’ll slide it up and strap you in.” “Will w-we be going into a war zone?” I asked. “No, this is just a precaution. It’s bulletproof, piercing proof, fireproof, poisonous gas proof. You’ll be completely safe *in case* anything happens.” “Hurry up,” Mika said, slamming the trunk. With a nervous breath, I slipped into the flexible and surprisingly comfortable armor, and I stood in anxious silence while Desmod secured me inside. I then watched him get into his armor while one of Mika's men secured him. Once we were both protected, Desmod smiled and gestured towards the back seat of the first car. “After you!” Taking a deep breath, I slipped inside, and I scooted all the way to the other end when he sat beside me. “Nice, isn’t it?” he asked, opening an overhead light. “My dad probably doesn’t care about anything as much as he cares about this car.” “Wait, Mika is your dad?” I asked, turning to him in surprise. “Yeah.” "Are you adopted too?" He gave me a funny smile. "I guess you can say that." I jumped when the back door opened, and I cringed when one of the men entered and sandwiched me between himself and Desmod. A second later, two other men sat on the seats across from us, all three of them excessively brawny. “Why does Callan have to sit with us?” Desmod asked as Mika sat in the front passenger seat. “Safety,” Mika replied. “Can’t Hawk sit with us instead? Callan’s the size of three men, we’re squashed like sardines back here.” I recoiled into Desmod as the man beside me glared at him, his green eyes flashing. Mika sighed. “Callan, switch places with Hawk.” Callan exited the car with a final sharp look at Desmod, and I let out a tense breath as I sat up straight. A second later, a woman entered, and I was relieved to see she wasn’t as robust as Callan. “This is much better, right Serena?” Desmod asked. “Hawk smells better too.” I didn’t know if it would be rude to agree or not, so I just shrugged. “Alright, let’s go,” Mika said. "Desmod …" Desmod sighed and took off his armored glove before he took off mine, and I gasped when he held my hand. “Don’t touch me!” I yelled as I pulled away, afraid of getting persuaded. “Sorry, I had to!” he said, cringing in apology as he handed me my glove back. I opened my mouth to retort, but my words disappeared when I looked through the window. We weren’t in a drab, gray garage anymore. We were in a forest. “What … what happened?” I asked, my voice shaking as I looked through the rear windshield. "Did y-you mess with my mind?" "No, I can't do that," Desmod said. "None of us can." “Please exit the vehicle,” Mika said, opening his door. “We don’t have time to waste.” Mika, Hawk, Desmod and the three other men got out, but I was still utterly discombobulated. “W-wait … then how? We … we just sat down …” “You’ll get used to it,” Desmod said with a kind smile. “Come out, we need to do this before anyone knows we’re here.” After a second of wary hesitation, I got out of the car and stood beside Desmod, my heart racing as I looked around. We really were in a forest, a lilac sky filled with turquoise clouds above our heads. A breeze swept through the strange, dark trees, and I spied the glowmains of a variety of weird creatures littering the ground. A high pitched garble echoed through the leaves, and I gasped as a winged creature swooped to the ground, pouncing on a horned rabbit. “Wh-where are we?” I asked, my lost eyes searching for answers in Desmod’s. “We’re overlapping Tanzania,” he said, seeming wary as he nodded to my glove. “You better put that on.” “How d-did we get here so fast?” I asked, slipping it back on. “What … what did you do to me when you took this off?” “This way,” Mika said, before Desmod could answer. “Hawk, Callan, Everest, Liche, Slad, keep an eye out. Claude, Jin, bring her.” Claude and Jin came on either side of me, and I shied away as they held my arms. “Ow!” “Hey, you don’t need to do that!” Desmod said as they dragged me after Mika. “We don’t have time,” Mika said. They dragged me towards a rocky cliff at the edge of the forest, and I stopped struggling as I gawked at the sprawling black, barren valley below. I’d never seen so many glowmains in one place before. Not even in a graveyard. “Do you see the spikes below?” Mika asked. “There’s a body buried beneath each one. Do you see their glow?” “Y-yes,” I replied. “Do you see one that's human-shaped with one leg and no head?” I winced, then squinted as I scanned the valley. “I … I can’t tell from this height, there’s so many. And at this angle, they're overlapping. Wh-what is this place?” “It’s a trophy site," Desmod replied. "For one of the most vicious packs th—” “There’s no time for explanations,” Mika interrupted. “If we take you closer, will you be able to differentiate between the glows?” “Closer?” I asked as I turned to him in fear. “Is that safe with a war going on?” Mika cast an irritated look at Desmod before replying, “We’ll keep you safe. Now answer my question.” “I … I don’t know. They're so densely packed I'd need a birdseye's view so they don't overlap. Wh-Why can't we stay in the car and just hover over them?" "Because we'd be easy to spot. In your armor, you'll be less obvious." Mika turned to Claude and Jin. “Take her down. Stop when she tells you to.” I looked at Desmod with apprehension as the two men dragged me down into the valley, and he shot me an encouraging look back as he gave me two thumbs up. Gulping, I turned my gaze back to the glowmains, attempting to tell them apart. Some had split legs and tattered skin, just like the ones I saw when I was at the abandoned hospital. The closer we got, the easier it was for me to make individual ones out. Some looked like unusually slender women, many looked like tiny dolls with four wings, a few looked like gorillas with rabbit ears, and some looked human, minus the heads. "That area, there," I said, pointing. "Those are all missing h-heads." Jin and Claude hustled me down and walked me across the far half of the massive grave site, and I strained my eyes as I studied all the decapitated glowmains below us, each vibrant against the black sand. Every once in a while, I’d glance up at the cliff, spying Desmod and Mika camouflaged between the dark trees. Once we covered the decapitated section, I looked up at Jin and Claude. “N-none are missing a leg.” I’d barely finished my sentence before they began dragging me back up to the cliff. I didn’t know how their feet were keeping hold over the hillside’s loose rocks and steep angles, but they didn’t even break a sweat as they hurried to the top. When we were only a few feet away from Mika and Desmod, three spears the size of two-by-fours shot out from between the trees, hitting Jin, Claude, and me directly in the chest. I grunted in shock as my ribs exploded with pain, and a tremulous scream flew from my throat as we began falling backwards. My terrified eyes darted around as I clawed helplessly at the air, and I gasped as an arm wrapped around me. Jin had grabbed me, and he was now pressing me to his chest as we slid headfirst towards the valley, the chaos of war cries echoing around us. I flinched as gunshots pierced the air, and rocks and dust flew as Jin pivoted and jumped upright. Claude ran over to us, and they shoved me down into a crouch as they stood on either side of me, protecting me as they pulled out their guns. Ducking low, I patted my chest with trembling hands. No blood. Not even a rip. The pain was immense but without this armor I'd have been dead. Figures in dark gray fatigues, thick black vests, crossbows, and helmets descended upon us, and I cowered into myself as they let out chilling roars. Three zooming, dark blurs knocked them down, and my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when they slowed down and I realized they were Callan, Hawk, and another of Mika’s goons. Bullets ricocheted and arrows flew, and I ducked my head and squeezed my eyes shut, my manic heart thudding in my chest. A second later, I no longer felt Claude to my right, and I gasped as something grabbed my ankles and pulled me away. I clawed at the black dirt as I screamed for help, but that did nothing as I was flipped over to face my attacker. She straddled me and bared her sharpened teeth as she ripped off my helmet and gripped my head, and I stared in horror at the yellow eyes peering at me beneath the wolf insignia on the helmet. The eyes, at first wide with rage, now narrowed in confusion as they stared back at me, and I shrieked as blood exploded all over my face. My hyperventilating breaths came out in spasming squeaks as I trembled beneath my attacker's weight, her fresh glowmains hovering above her as blood seeped from where those yellow eyes had been only seconds before. Another figure in a wolf helmet shoved the body off me, and a quivering moan of fright trembled through my lips as he aimed a crossbow right between my eyes. I ducked beneath my trembling arms, certain this was my death, but a grunt and a crash made me peek between my fingers. My eyes grew wide as I realized Mika had tackled my attempted murderer, the arrow meant for me now sticking out of the dirt an inch from my head. After some violent wrestling and growling, Mika gained the upper hand and shoved his gun beneath the other’s jaw, and I turned away in horror as gunfire jolted my soul. “Desmod!” Mika yelled. I turned back to him, shaking, tears in my eyes as I took in his blood-splattered helmet and the fresh glowmains beneath him. Someone materialized right beside me, and I jerked away screaming before I realized it was Desmod. Mika spoke to him in a language I didn’t understand, barely flinching as an arrow cracked his helmet, and Desmod nodded and replied, his voice shaking as he touched my face. I blinked, and I blinked again in confusion when I found myself in the bedroom, lying down on the bed. I sat up in a panic, my pulse revving as I stared at Desmod standing in front of me. “Serena, I have to go back and help,” he said, the fear obvious in his green eyes as he backed away towards the door. “You’re safe. I’ll tell Cassiopeia you’re back.” “No, wait!” I yelled as he closed the door and locked it. I looked around, my mind racing my heart as I struggled to accept what just happened. We were attacked. Mika saved my life … and killed a man point-blank. I shuddered, hugging myself. I saw two people die today, in the span of a minute. This was war, just like Desmod said, but it was terrifying how cold and methodical Mika was. At least Desmod seemed conflicted. And how did he take me there, and bring me back, without me even realizing it? I looked down. I wasn't even wearing the armor anymore. I didn’t like this. I didn’t want to be here anymore. I wanted to go home. I jumped as the door opened. “Serena. Oh, dear, oh, dear,” Cassiopeia tutted as she walked in, another beautiful, green-eyed lady behind her. “I’m sorry this happened. Let Mallory look you over.” “I w-want to go home,” I said, my voice cracking. “After I help you find your brother.” I squeezed my eyes shut, tears trickling down my cheeks. “I know, I know.” She sat beside me and reached for my hands. “And you—” “No!” I jerked away and jumped off the bed, my pulse stuttering. “Don’t touch me! Don’t even look at me. I don’t want you to persuade me!” “Serena, please calm down, dear. I only want to help you relax.” “No, you make me make promises I don’t want to. Make me think things … *feel* things … I shouldn’t,” I said, a sob catching in my throat. “There’s no harm in that, is there?” She stood up and walked over to me. “Imagine it’s a light sedative to help ease your stress.” “I want my stress!” I yelled, backing away. “It keeps me alert! You … you make me feel like I’m stupid!” “You’re anything but. You’re an exceptional young woman and we all want to keep you safe.” “No, you want me to be a compliant prisoner. Like … like a drugged pet or something!” “Serena, that’s no way to talk about our hospitality. You’re remaining here until you help us locate my brother and you’ll find it a lot more comfortable if you let me help you relax and relieve your trauma.” “No!” I pushed past her and ran out of the room, darting down the drab, gray hall towards the garage. I glanced behind me to see if I was being followed, and I felt a mixture of confusion and relief when I saw no one. I turned back to face the front, and I screamed as I crashed right into Cassiopeia. She didn’t even flinch or stumble, and my panic piqued as she hugged me close, caressing my neck. I already had a barrier up, and I fought to reinforce it as I struggled to escape her embrace, but it was to no avail as that horrible haze fogged my logic and autonomy. “There, there," she soothed. "Just relax. You’ll be alright.” “Wh-what are you?” I asked, sobbing as my struggles waned. “That’s not something you need to worry about, dear.” I nodded, sniffling. “Okay …” “That’s a good girl. You did incredibly today, we’re very proud of you. You’ll feel no trauma after what happened today. Tomorrow should hopefully be less intense. Now we’re going to go back to your room so Mallory can look you over, and then you’re going to eat all of your dinner. You’re very hungry, aren’t you?” “Yes …” “Good, because we ordered a pizza for you from your sphere. Your favorite is all-dressed, isn’t it?” I licked my lips. “Yes …” “Wonderful. And after dinner, you’re going to wash up and have a sound sleep. You need it, you’re exhausted!” I nodded, breathing in her musky perfume. “And tomorrow, do you promise to do all you can to help us find my brother?” “I promise,” I whispered. “Wonderful. Now come, dear, let’s go back to your room.” Cassiopeia led me back, and I let Mallory tend to my wounds. The armor helped dissipate the force of the spear, resulting in a dark bruise but no broken ribs. They brought me a piping hot all-dressed pizza, which I blissfully devoured, and they left me to shower, slip into a fresh nightgown, and slide into bed. But before I closed my eyes, I reached for my phone, and rereading my previous post and the comments brought everything back. I sat up, tears of fretful anger welling in my eyes. I hated all-dressed pizzas. I only liked plain cheese. And how did she materialize in front of me so fast when I left her in the room? Just as fast as Mika’s men in the field. And how did they transport me in the blink of an eye? What were they? What on Earth did I get wrapped up in? I called my parents and friends, but yet again I couldn’t tell them anything. I was trapped. I was helpless. [Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16s85s5/i_see_corpses_glow/) - **Part 2** - [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16u2kp1/i_see_corpses_glow_and_im_sick_of_it/) - [Part 4](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16uymin/i_see_corpses_glow_and_now_i_know_why/) - [Part 5](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16xcmt0/i_see_corpses_glow_and_i_can_do_so_much_more_final/) \----- [SR](https://www.reddit.com/r/Skittishreflections)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16t66yn/i_see_corpses_glow_and_i_wish_i_didnt/

nosleep

SkittishR

My job is to eliminate the cause of paranormal incidents. This world's ocean turned toxic(Part 3)

I went back to my dad's room in the hospital, to find him watching the news play on the tv in front of him. The muscles of his eye lids were dark and sick, struggling to open his eyes for too long. With a click of the door closing behind me, he turns his head and smiled when he saw me. "Judith? My girl, you came a bit early today?" The muscles of my lips twitched as I tried to give him a smile; to hide the fact that I got fired. Actually, why should I hide that? I got a new job and it pays bloody well to keep his cancer treatment continuing. But wait, if I tell him that, what if he got a heart attack in front of me?! That'll shatter my soul. "Yeah. You feeling any better though?" I asked while trying to keep my smile. Sadly, his smile faded, with the look of fear on his face. "No. Haven't got any better. I'm beginning to get worse." "No! Don't say that! You're going to get better soon, I know it." I said, almost breaking my voice to a whimper. "You remember the time your mother showed you some magic tricks?" His voice became low and tired, with his eye lids beginning to close, like the gates of heaven is closing, leaving a slight gap to reveal bits of light to follow. "Yeah." I sat on the chair next to him with my hands on his. His hands are a bit colder than yesterday, which gave me a heart aching shock in my blood. I felt my smile slip away as I watch his mouth move tiredly. "The one trick she showed you was the fast-growing flower. The look on your face meant so much to us both. It was amazing, but something about that trick left me to question. I asked her many times about it and all she said was 'sorry, it's a secret'. So, I gave up on that and believed she could've been a brilliant magician, right?" I can see he was smiling, not trying, feeling it. I felt a smile on my face too. A lovely and bizarre moment of our life. I wanted my mom to teach me that a long time ago, but she always told me it's a secret trick I have to find on my own. I kept finding that secret nearly for 2 months, hoping I could find it. I bet every adult and teenager is amazed about kid's motivations. They just never seem to stop when they enjoyed so much of it. The reason I stopped was my mom showing me another trick. This time, no secret. So, I was so much into that trick and forgot about the growing flower secret. Now I begin to question the same as my dad. How did mom do it? "Yeah. I wish she's still here." I was still smiling when a tear trickle down my left cheek. Suddenly, the volume from the TV caught my ears like a radio. I turned my attention to see a picture of a blue bright star shooting through the sky. I realized I had forgotten about Athena, yet when I looked around, she was nowhere to be seen. *We still find no other evidence as to what this bright UFO is. This might be a terrorist attack on the Australian government or an aircraft sent by an unknown government. Strangely enough, it's at the same time of the frozen man incident. By the time the UFO disappeared into nowhere, the man’s name Peter Anderson awoke from his frozen state. In the report, doctors said it was a seizure caused in the brain.* Of course, they would stick with the lies told by the victim. Surely, we all understand that no one is going to believe what really happened. If I've told someone that I saw God, they would laugh at me and start kicking me around, calling me a weirdo. Until night time, I lay on the couch, watching the moon light shine into the room. I held my hands up to the silvery light. Its bright curtain washes over my hand like the ocean against the cliffs of the mountain. I wondered what kind of job I'm in. She said it will be dangerous. I think I'm alright with that, as long as I give more time with me and my dad. *You're lucky to have more time with your family.* Athena's voice gave off a sombreness tone. I look to see her sitting before the moon light, as if fallen from heaven. I said nothing and closed my eyes. I wish I had those moments. I slightly opened my weak eyes. My vision was blurry that I couldn't see her face. "Why did they split you from your parents?" I saw her head move a bit upwards, to face my exhausted face. *They don't allow compassion, love, or anything that feels home. It distracts us and weakens our strength. It's what keeps us down. Being heartless is key to victory in wars.* I closed my eyes shut, with a cold chill that could give me nightmares. Heartless soldiers with guarantee for victory, that just creates the monster, right? Why would people sacrifice themselves for wars? Why are they so willing to kill for what? \- I woke up and begin to wear my casual clothes, brush my teeth, and splash my face with water. Looking into the mirror to see the messy scribbled brown hair that would make me look like I go drunk from a party at night. But when I look into my eyes, I saw the left pupil glow a sea ocean colour. Of course, I'm slowly beginning to form with Athena. I guess that's how it is for me now and then. But what happens if we're finished? I don't know the word for it, but I won't keep scavenging for it in my head. Before I left, I kissed my dad on the forehead, feeling the cold skin under my lips. I wanted to hug him terribly, but I thought I might crush him. I don't want to think too much about that. I left the hospital and found the old lady waiting for me in the parking area. This time, she wore a much darker clothing and it seems some of her wrinkles disappeared. Did she just look a bit younger than before? She gestured her hands to come into the woods. I followed with a sense of unnerving awareness. It's just something about this moment still makes me question why. It's like I'm getting closer to a strange large energy. My question has been answered when we arrived to a pearly orb door, standing before us like a monolith. "Your first mission of the day is eliminating a threat from the ancient oceans. The entire ocean has been poisoned for 50 years, so billions died. While others still have clean water, which the price is much higher than a car." The old lady broke the silence. "Poisoned ocean and higher price than a car? You sure? Because the ocean here is still clean." This sounds unbelievable of course. And plus, everything here is moving as fine as usual, to which nothing big happened. Well, except for unheard incidents and all. These can still impact a bit on everyone in the world. She gave me a wicked grin with a chuckle beneath her garlic breath. "Not here. You're going to another dimension." She held the door knob and twisted it, opening the door to reveal another bloody world! This is impossible, why is this happening and how did she do that? In the present days, we're pretty sure that the scientists around the globe still have no leads to creating a portal to another world. So now, I get to actually explore what's beyond our worlds. "Save your questions later. Right now, you have a job to do. Start exploring, talk to someone who knows to have the benefits to the source, and don't waste time. I'm rather impatient." She then gave me a stare that sent chills through my back. So then, I went through the door. When I got through, a strong blow of wind hit me, making me shake to the brim, and a bright light hits my eyes that I blinked shut from the bright spectrum. Then, when I opened my eyes, here I am. I've travelled to another world. I turned around to see the door, but it's gone. I tried to talk to Athena but she wouldn't talk nor appear. This is it, time to do my job. \- The sky above the gloomy oozy clouds shows nothing but the toxic gas that scours the planet like death's curtain. The ocean below the hills is filled of oozing oil that I can tell are the poison the pollutes everything. It actually broke my heart, knowing that billions of people in the world can't ever taste the clean water ever again. There was no grass, other than the dry but crack filled grounds. The cracks hide a disgusting waste of toxic water that if I poke my finger into it it'll eat my skin. I felt a terrible fear in my chest as I looked around while walking down to the nearby city. Once I've arrived, there was no one there walking on the streets. The windows don't have the shine of warm light, only to be covered by the green rust. When I looked into the window, there were corpses of men, women, and children. My heart broke, no, shattered. Looking at every corpse rotting, with their faces expressing deep pain and sadness. A literal child had a rust covered teddy bear in his arms. I couldn't help but shed a tear. But I still have to continue on. As I walked, I saw the first light in this world. And light, I mean something that would come from a shelter. It was a bar, covered in moss and rotten plants. The windows exposed a warm light that defines that someone is in there. I know it, I believed it. I hope someone in there knows how it all happened in the first place. Who can tell? Once I opened the rusty door, I found an old fat man sitting on the floor with a beer in hand. His scruffy large coffee beard stained by the many beers he drank. He looked like a giant who sat on his broken shattered throne, and he wore a stained dark night sky mariner outfit. That outfit is big enough to be worn around his large body, that I imagined it might rip and pop at any moment. His face was plastered with depression. I stepped forward and was ready to ask the first question. "Hi. What happened here?" When he looked up, I felt a jolt of terror in my body. His eyes are overshadowed by his cap, yet an exposed light of his pupils’ stares into my soul. "What happened? You mean you have absolutely no idea what in the bloody hell happened here." His voice was low like the devil. His voice and form already intimidated me to run, even though he wasn't doing it on purpose. I wanted to just walk away or literally run and leave. But how much time am I going to waste searching for another to answer? I have to know right now, even though I fear him, I have to. "I just wanted to know how this place became like this?" I said with a shaking voice. "You're not from here. I know. Bloody hell, it doesn't matter anyway." He then held his beer in front of him and took a long drink from its content. I stepped closer and sat on the chair just 5 or 6 from him. "What do you mean it doesn't matter. I can help-" "You can't!" He shouted, nearly making me fall of the chair. I can feel the tears in my eyes starting to swell. I tried to control my own voice while I spoke out. "But why? Why can't I help?" He turned his face away, narrowing his eyes to the frame on the wall of his right. He breathed a sigh before saying. "Because it's too late. There's absolutely nothing we can do. Those rich bastards, they have the clean water to themselves. The people around the world got infected that there's not enough hospitals to hold on to them! And it was all my bloody fucking fault!" He threw his beer bottle at the wall, shattering on impact. I nearly jumped out of my chair from the sound of it. As I watched him flex his temple with his fingers, I begin to share this some sort of similar emotion. I thought about my parents and my other family members. Is this going to be who I'm going to become after my dad dies? This just terrifies me worser. Suddenly, in a blink of an eye, Athena appeared before the man out of nowhere. She grabbed the collar of his stained uniform, with clenching fists that pulses a sense of stubbornness. To my shock, the man seems to be able to see and comprehend her existence. ***Listen to me!! Drowning yourself in deep guilt and self-hatred will never get you anywhere you wanted! If you wanted to find peace, YOU must deny your selfish hopelessness and give yourself to the WILL to do BETTER!! YOU WILL TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR CHOICES!! DO YOU WANT PEACE OR NOT!!!*** Her voice was thunderous, terrifying, and God like. Never have I ever heard and witness such voice and demand like this. I fell from my chair when she began to shout, hitting my back on the ground. I couldn't feel anything when she shouted. It was like listening to some otherworldly god's wrath. Everything went silent. Even the wind outside. I realized I forgot to breath that I begin to inhale the air, with a cough out of my dry throat. Before me, the man's jaw dropped, metaphorically. Athena dropped him, letting him sink deep into his mind. I tried to speak up, but can only make little. "Athena? What?" She didn't turn to look at me, just staring at the old man still collecting thoughts from his mind. When he looked up, I can see a change in him. His face no longer depressing. "A long time ago, I was commanded to bring something from the centre of the pacific oceans. No questions were given. I didn't know what it was until I saw it with my own eyes. At the very centre was an ancient guardian that keeps the ocean clean from the poison itself. "I didn't know nor understood about it. So, I fought it without hesitation. It's the most challenging fight I've ever had in my life. It took about 4 minutes to capture the entity, and I sailed back to the west with it. That is where this bloody poison started to take billions of lives. "I didn't realize that they were actually planning to create a new society." Before he could continue speaking, I cut in asking. "What's the new society?" He looked at me, sharing his disgust with my own. I can tell it's not going to be an answer I'd like to hear. "The Heaven for the rich." I immediately jumped up with disgust in my heart! Those rich bastards care less about people, instead they care more about their damn gold and material! "The fuck!" My voice still shaking with nerves but with the disgust. "Tch. That's the same reaction I had kid. "They used the guardian to store their own clean water. They made the water's price high when the ocean started to become toxic. They bloody knew this was going to happen. With the clean water in their hands, they lead billions to die, except for the last of the richest people on earth. Their money expanded, and so is their dominion over the society. They created a new bloody fucking heaven, where the richest controlled EVERYTHING!" He spat on the ground by his leg. I can understand it's him spitting on the bastards. My fear is overwhelmed by the demand for those bastards to pay for this. Using the old man to get their needs. How... How dare they! I can't argue enough while writing this, it was terrible for me to think about. "The guardian, it was supposed to protect the people, from its opposite. I tried to fight it off, but I was left completely injured, nearly melted me into a puddle of toxic meat and bone. It could've killed everyone if I kept going, so I had to leave it to do its curse. "I did everything, even demanding the rich to give water. But they were too powerful, and they knew I'm going to fight back. And then I was left here to watch everyone die. The air turned intoxicating, choking people to death. The rain is damn worse." And with that, I got enough information to know what had happened. I thought it was enough. I sat on the floor across from him. I can tell both of us have the same idea. Justice. I think we both wanted them to pay for their destruction, their damn bloody greed. I stood back up and walked to the old man. I held my hand out to him. "I think we should go together. What do you say?" He looked at my hand, then to me. I can't tell of his expression, since it’s all overshadowed by his cap. When he looked down, I thought he was quitting the idea. "I've failed everyone. There was no one left but them. But now that she mentioned it." He grabbed my hand and I started pulling him up in surprise. I swear I felt a smile on my face. I looked at Athena, with the face to annihilate the enemy. I can feel her demand for vengeance swell in my heart, but that didn't bother me. It was thrilling. I looked to the old man in shock. He's much Much taller, exactly like a giant towering over me. About 9 or 10 feet tall. His body makes himself much more intimidating. When I saw his face above, it was shined by the light. His eyes are like the shine of a great warrior, with a deep red scar on his left face. "I'm going to make sure that every person who died will have peace." \- Right now, we're sailing on a yacht, to the place the old man is taking us. I asked for his name before, so instead of old man, his name is Marcus Noe. He didn't give me any more details about himself. Just telling me he's an old man. I wonder what kind of stuff he does. I mean, I know he defeated a guardian from the Pacific Ocean, so that means he could be a hunter or what? As we sail across the ocean, I wondered what kind of monster was causing the intoxication of the ocean. The guardian protected this planet from it, and Marcus said they were both opposite of each other. It's kind of like 2 different faces of the same coin. One being the devil, and the other being the angel. Flip a coin and you'll see what face you'll see. I turned around to Athena, looking up at the gloomy sick sky. "Athena, why were you shouting like that?" She moved her head to face me, with sad eyes. *I had someone who had the exact fate as Marcus. I believe Marcus can truly find peace, I had to because I wanted him to have it, and not fall just like him.* She turned to look at Marcus, steering the yacht head on. I'm surprised his weight didn't put so much pressure on the yacht. Somehow, this yacht is like no other. I wondered about his other relatives, other friends he might have. I went to greet him and asked curiously. "Do you any family members and friend back before this happened?" He slightly turned his head, facing me with only half of his face in my view. He sighed and said this. "I had. I have friends before. They're the loyal friends you wanted to have in life. Deimos, Albert, Conan, Davis, Benjamín, and my best friend Odin. He's the best of us, even in the darkest of wars, he kept that smile on his face just to keep us going." He grew a slight warm smile. Sadly, it disappeared quickly. "He died from the toxic waters. And others followed. Except me." I didn't realize until he reminds me, he still lives without a single hint of infection or sickness. "How are you not being sick?" His hands begin to grip tightly to the steering wheel. "I'm not like any human being. More like some sort of bloody hybrid from.... I don't really know anymore...." We both stood in silence, whilst the waves of the ocean around us splashes into each other. Until Marcus broke the silence between us. "I had a wife and child. Her name was Sharon, the most beautiful lady I've ever met and loved. And my child is Conner, a stubborn child of mine. Tch, must've gotten from me." He smiled again; this time much warmer. I felt my own smile came along too. But unfortunately, his smile faded into guilt. "They mean everything to me, and I've....I've failed them. My wife was the first to die from the toxic air. I was holding her in my arms, running to the hospital with my son by my side. Before I could reach to the hospital, she was already dead. Her last words... They were choked away. I couldn't hear her, I kept running until I accepted that she's gone, because of me. "My own son soon followed the same death. It was the day after my wife's death. His words too are choked away. I kept him close, hugging him, pleading to God for mercy. But he died. I hated god for making such beasts." I stare at him with a broken heart in my soul. Listening to this nearly made a tear drop from my eyes. After that, we shared about our own family stories; our life, families, experience, and memorable moments. We had our chuckles, smiles, even the long face. I wanted Athena to share with us, and so she did. When I realized what's going on, I immediately shut my mouth and walked away. He was going to say something, but Athena stopped him. I couldn't hear what they were saying, or maybe they weren't talking at all. I can't have any more people I start to care for. I just can't. It shocked me how I literally forgot about it. It was amazing! I can't do this! If I start to really care for him, and if he died, I'm going to break down again like before! Not again! Everything went silent until we finally arrived to where we're going to start. It was tall, real tall. The size of a tower that reaches through the clouds. It was filled with a rich pearly wall that could be made from heaven. The walls are decorated with sigils and other kinds of majestic paintings. My fear of loss was overwhelmed by the sight of the tower. This could be a tower that can reach space, I thought. Regardless, we're going to take it all down. "I warn you, once we enter through the gate, we'll be facing dangerous security. So, it's best to meet the government without force. So, no fighting or anything else, follow my lead." Before us, a hidden gate revealed itself and opened to reveal the alerting red flash of light. Soldiers of bright pearly and golden armour marched to our direction, with guns that I don't seem to recognize at all. The interior is just made of some sort of silver, with bright warm lights from above the ceiling. As we enter through, the soldier raises their guns, pointing at us with it. I don't know how dangerous these weapons are, and that's what make me gulp. I felt my legs are shaking slightly to move. I wanted to fly away from this place, but I need to do this. We both raised our hands, except for Athena, which kind of felt funny at first. As the gates closed behind us, we stepped on the metal ground and was being pointed by guns. I wonder what other dangerous criminals would feel when they got guns on their faces. For me, I felt that I wanted to stand frozen, not making a single move as I hold my breath. Marcus's footsteps on the ground created a wave of echo around us. I thought I saw one of the soldiers’ step back, but I guess I was imagining it. We stood very still until we are met by a man, with a clean white top hat and a single circular glass on his right eye. He wore a Victorian suit that matches the same colour as his hat. Right in front of me is none other than those rich assholes from cartoons. Right now, I guess you can say, things are going to get shittier than ever? [1](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/149piw7/something_fell_from_the_sky_it_wasnt_a_meteorite/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) [2](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/15x7wmp/beyond_our_reality_hides_a_secret_we_question/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) 4

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16ti26u/my_job_is_to_eliminate_the_cause_of_paranormal/

nosleep

Plushytoonz

I bought an indie game on my computer and I regret it

I am really into video games, especially horror survival games. I have been playing a ton of Demonologist, which while I highly recommend, is not why I've chosen to write to you today. A game, which has been taken off of the Steam store shortly after I bought it, simply titled *The Following,* was a seemingly simplistic game. You create an avatar, which was cool because you can upload a copy of yourself that AI fills out to make them look like you, and your objective is to navigate through the house, collecting things that will allow you to escape while avoiding this thing that is following you. Seems simple enough, plenty of jump scares, avatar that looks like me, what's not to like? Or at least that's what I thought until I loaded up the first level. The first level was my childhood home. Now, before I hear you all playing devils advocate, it wasn't just the layout of my childhood home. It was a perfect replica, down to the furniture, family portraits hanging on the wall, the crayon drawings from when I was three that my parents left in the hallway because they thought it was funny, the stains on the carpet from where I dropped my bowl of chili, all of it. If this wasn't strange enough, my avatar was me. Except it wasn't me now, it was me as a seven year old. My avatar, wearing my favourite San Diego Chargers jersey, Jean shorts, a baseball cap, and some sneakers looked exactly as I did at that age, in fact, that was the outfit I wore on my birthday. Now, a normal person probably would have turned the game off and called the cops, but I am not a normal person. I decided to play. From a gaming perspective, it felt like I was playing with cheat codes since I knew this house like the back of my hand. I effortlessly navigated throughout my childhood home, finding things that didn't belong. The first was a photograph I did not recognize: It was me, holding a balloon at what appeared to be a circus, holding hands with an older woman whom I had never seen before. The next thing I grabbed was my sisters diary. While my sister did have a diary, hers had a green cover, not a red one. The last thing that seemed out of place to me was a copy of a newspaper with my photo on the cover: Local boy found five days after he went missing. I never went missing, so that definitely caught my eye. I managed to make it back into the living room after collecting these things when the games music changed. The air began to rapidly cool, as evidenced by my avatars breathing. I could hear noises around me, and they sounded so real, as if someone was just behind me, Out of the corner of the screen, I saw the woman. She was the same one from the photo, with some differences. Her arms seemed to be elongated, longer than any normal humans arms should be. Her smile expanded, continuously growing, as she turned and faced me. Slowly crawling towards the screen she said something that gave me chills "{Redacted}, it's been a long time my lovely. Oh how I have missed you." While I can forgive the layout of my childhood home and an avatar that looks exactly like me, never during character creation did it give me an opportunity to give my character a name, nor did I enter one. How did this video game know my name? I decided I would save and quit, and talk to someone to see if this was something I should legitimately be worried about. My girlfriend was a lot less chill with this situation than I was. "{Redacted} What the hell? Why didn't you call the cops?" She sternly said to me while crossing her arms. When she was mad, she would cross her arms and rapidly tap her foot. She was doing both of these things so I knew I had messed up. "Babe I honestly didn't think it was that big of a deal, like a lot of this is coincidence." "One of those things could maybe be passed off as coincidence. But the fact that they used your name, your childhood photos, and your childhood home is not ok. Who designed this game anyway?" "The publisher is a third party developer, some company called Tartarus." "Tartarus? Lets look them up real quick and see what their deal is." Things would only continue to spiral from there. We could not find a website for Tartarus. We tried googling the game and nothing came up. In fact, after deep internet searches, we finally found a blog post on the internet in which the person, whose username was TerribleOgre23, stated something similar happening to them. They stated that bad things continued to happen to them after playing the game, and it only stopped when they finished it. So it looks like I have found myself in a Jumanji situation, yet the parting advice that TerribleOgre23 left did not inspire confidence: Whatever you do, under no circumstances are you to get caught in the game. This has to be a perfect run if you wish to protect yourself or your loved ones from any harm. The longer you wait to play, the worse it is going to be for you. My girlfriend told me that TerribleOgre23's post was nothing more than some internet creepy pasta, and that I need to go to the police, but I don't know what I should do. I decided to call my mom and fill her in on everything as well. when I told her, all she said was: "Stop what you are doing and come home, we need to talk." ​

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16synq8/i_bought_an_indie_game_on_my_computer_and_i/

nosleep

MeroseSpider

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

We all live an enormous, cosmic, delusion. It could be a cosmic-level prank, for all I know; a malevolent ploy set in motion with the conception of Man. Needless to say, I am not amused. I never believed in God. At least, I disdained the idea of church, the Good Book, or that believing in Jesus will save me from an eternity of torment. I valued reason and intellect, and I used these values to dictate the course of my life. Even so, I was heavily influenced by what I believed to be philosophies of irrefutable logic. I stumbled upon a quote by Albert Camus in highschool. Camus was an Atheist, but followed a philosophy of counter-existentialism:*"I would rather live my life as if there is a God and die to find out there isn't, than live as if there isn't and to die to find out that there is."* The sentence was simple and almost poetic. To me, though, it had harrowing implications. I conducted research into the idea, and read about something called *Pascal's Wage*r. It reinforced Camus's harrowing concept with a deeper philosophy. Pascal stated: “*let us weigh the gain and the loss in wagering that God is. Let us estimate these two chances. If you gain, you gain all; if you lose, you lose nothing. Wager, then, without hesitation that He is.”* Essentially Pascal is saying that life may be construed as a game, or a gamble: every living individual participates, and every living individual goes all-in. No exceptions. The rewards are as sublime as an eternity in Heaven; the penalties, an eternity in Hell. At the very least, you have nothing to lose. Therefore, though I didn't necessarily embrace the existence of God, I definitely acted as if He, indeed, existed. I had nothing to lose, everything to gain, and zero qualms over the dictation of my life. Now, one could spend a lifetime discussing the minutiae of "good" and "evil." We COULD start with morality; morality, though, is subjective. It is influenced by culture, society, and one's place in history. Ethics is a beast of a subject, encompassing such philosophy as merits an entire collegiate-level course-load. It culminates in nothing more than a semester's worth of memorization, and, oftentimes, more self-doubt than what one began with. I believe that Ethics and Morality endeavor to answer the question of "what is right?" They tend to veer away from the question I considered to be more quintessential: what does it mean to be *good*? In my mind, Righteousness was subservient to Goodness. God is universally considered righteous, yes; however, God is also considered the epitome of *goodness.* God was compassionate, forgiving, and accepting. God, and what He expected of us, was intrinsic, irrefutable, unabashed *goodness*. It was within this frame of mind that I found tranquility. Whether God existed or whether the soul existed, I vehemently believed in leading a good life: I held doors for passers-by; I always kept change in my pocket for the needy who accosted me; I never turned down a friend asking a feasible favour; I actively donated to charities; I even babysat my ex's daughter, Maria, whenever the ex felt she needed a night of debauchery with the girls. Some might call me a chump; I liked to think I was building credit. If Heaven and Hell were the final destinations of our mortal coil, I was positive I had nothing to fear in that regard. I floated through life, wrapped in my self-assured philosophy. It didn't matter what job I had, or the state of my relationships. I felt I had discovered the Golden Ticket to everlasting peace. I had it made. I was happy; I doubt 1% of the population could say as much. The irony was that the human condition was not subservient to the conditions of one's philosophies. The irony was, no matter how "good" you were, you were still subject to the vicissitudes of fate. So entered the man everyone referred to as Rats. I often volunteered my time at a local shelter, helping out where I could. I was in the soup kitchen, ironically serving soup, when a homeless fellow everyone referred to as Rats entered the lineup. Rats had been a denizen of the streets for as long as anyone could remember. He was usually non-verbal, and tended to keep his eyes downcast. He kept himself apart from everybody, disdaining any forms of social interaction. Nobody knew his real name. The homeless community called him Rats as he had a tendency to feed and foster the rats often found in back-alleys and dumpsters. He would pocket bits of bread, or fruit, and use that to feed the critters. It's as if he replaced people with the skittery vermin as a social community. He was typically considered harmless, though, and was a regular figure in the kitchen. He made it to my station, and I moved to serve him. As I was ladling his portion, somebody bumped me from behind, causing me to stumble and spill some of the hot liquid over the edge of the bowl onto Rats' worn out once-white sneakers. "Oh, no, I'm so sorry! Here…" I handed him a handful of nearby napkins. "Please, I apologise. If there's anything you need, please let me know." Rats stared down at his feet. He just…stared, unmoving, unblinking, for a tense, awkward eternity. He then looked up, meeting my eyes; staring, unblinking. I was taken aback; not just from the eye contact, but from the blazing vehemence I saw nestled in them. I didn't know what else to say. All I could do was try to swallow the sudden lump in my throat. Rats slowly turned, and started moving down the lineup, never breaking eye contact until he reached the next station. I don't know why, but his sudden shift in demeanour had shaken me. I finished my shift and prepared to leave. I always made a point of leaving through the back door; I felt drained after these volunteer sessions, and tried to avoid people when I felt like this. I began meandering through the dark alley. The loud clatter of what sounded like a kicked can made me stop short. Rats stepped out from behind the dumpster. He started walking, slowly, a measured pace, staring at me, unblinking. I was still unsettled from his earlier demeanour, and the hair on my neck tried to stand when I met his eyes. He was muttering, gibbering, and I could make out his words as he drew closer. "...needed help! To help the rats that need help helping me to get away! They're angry with me! Oh so softly, they're angry! I'm dirty! They gave me these feet! The coverings! The rats! You wretched man! Wretched, wretched man! Wretched! Wretched!" He kept chanting that word, in time with his steps, voice rising in pitch with each utterance. I knew I was in trouble. I realised with mounting horror that the earlier mishap had triggered him. "Rats…Rats, buddy…I didn't mean anything by it… Rats!" But it was too late. I wasn't prepared as Rats sprinted the last ten feet. I had a glimpse of white plastic as he stabbed me, low in the gut. Pain lanced through me as he stabbed me again, again, shrieking "MY FRIENDS!" and "WRETCHED!" with every thrust. Rats stepped back, breathing hard. I slumped to my knees, looking down. What looked like a sharpened toothbrush protruded from my gut. "Rats…" I croaked. Rats stood statue-still, head tilted, as if listening to something. His head gave a violent twitch; he turned and sprinted away down the alley. *I need help! I need to call for help!* My arms were weak; I could barely move them. I managed to fumble my phone out of my pocket; It dropped from my rapidly-numbing hands. I slumped backwards. I couldn't find the strength to move. I felt the pain, the blood, the shock creeping in. My eyes slid shut. Help… I pleaded. I couldn't seem to get the word out. *Help me…* Darkness took me. \*\*\* *I need…need to call for help…* Cold. I felt cold. But I didn't feel pain. I could hear something. Water, maybe, in a slow steady \**drip…drip…drip…*\* nearby. I felt groggy. *Eyes. Open my eyes.* After an eternity, my eyelids responded to the electrical signals I kept sending them. Slowly, my eyes opened. My vision took a minute to come to focus. I could see…stone. Square-cut rough-hewn stone; I was in a small room made out of large, heavy, stone blocks the colour of clouds heralding a tornado. They were wet; water dripped from the ceiling, causing that steady *\*drip\*.* Water condensed on the walls and pooled together, sliding down the featureless grey stone. I looked down at my belly; no blood. No pain. I realised I was sitting upright in a chair made of some sort of deep red wood. There was a table in front of me, or a desk, comprised of the same red wood, and another chair. There was also a door opposite me, behind the table, dark red wood. *What the fuck…?* Where was I? Wasn't I just dying in a back-alley? The disorientation was so strong it almost overwhelmed me. The \**drip…drip…*\* beating a slow rhythm to the racing of my heart. Before I could get my bearings and even hope to make sense of what was happening, there was a knock at the door. It cracked open, and a man stepped in. At least, my mind interpreted the figure as a man. He was tall, very tall; he must've been seven feet tall or more. He wore a crisply tailored business suit, black-on-black. His tie clip and cufflinks were so black they seemed to glow with the antithesis of light. But his face… I don't know if the all-black attire was meant to accent the pallor of his skin or if it was just a matter of personal taste. His skin was white. Snow-white. So white it seemed to be made of marble. He was bald, with too-large jet-black eyes and irises that seemed almost pinpricks. He had no nose, just two slits centered between the overly-large orbs. And he was smiling. He was lipless, the slit of his mouth was set in an unsettlingly wide smile. His gums were the exact shade of grey as the stone that surrounded us. His mouth contained only four teeth top and bottom; they were so enormously wide that they bridged the entire width of his impossibly wide smile. Unbidden, I thought of the midway game, where you have to shoot the teeth out of some grotesquely-smiling clown; I couldn't look away. He (\*it?)\* began to speak; I heard his words in my mind, not my ears. The gaping smile didn't move. \**Good even', Mr. Jameson! Welcome!\** The joviality of his… *its*… voice… was sickening. I hesitated a moment, buried in uncertainty, before deciding to respond. "Um…g-good…evening…um…sir. What's…what's going on? Where…am I?" The thing's body began shaking, and I heard a phlegmy wheezing in my head; it took a second for me to realise it was laughing. *It can laugh…* I thought. The human-like reaction unnerved me more. \**Oh! Mr.Jameson, you are the truest of amusements! Please, refer to this one as Gregory!\** It moved one hand in an "after you" gesture. "...Gregory…?" *What the fuck?* \**Yes! Gregory! Or Grigory! Or Gregorio! Or, simply, Greg! Just don't call this one late for dinner!\** Its tone was that of the over-exaggerated actor's voice you heard in early-fifties sitcoms. I felt it was trying hard to emulate what it considered a human conversation. "Is that really your name?" I was incredulous; I couldn't believe such an entity could have this mundane human moniker. It tilted its head, considering me. The smile dropped to a flat line; it seemed a little irritated. \**No. It is a human name that this one chose; the one that most delighted this one. Greg's real name is-* And an EXPLOSION OF SOUND entered my head! It obliterated any sense or thought or memory! It sounded like an old-school dial-up internet tone mixed with a banshee shriek and nails on a chalkboard but DIALED UP so loud I felt it in my teeth! The…"name"... lasted only moments; it took maybe ten minutes for me to recover from the aftershock of its presentation. Shuddering, finally able to see, to hear, to *exist*, I crawled back up into the chair, panting. The thing's smile returned. \**You see! That's why you shall now call this one Gregory! Or Greg. This one likes Greg! Greg is neat-o, burrito!\** I could only nod. I fully understood. "Ok…um…Greg. Where am I?" \*Co*ngratulations! Your physicality has been rectified! You've been re-embraced by the veil and returned to the primal essence!\** I looked at Greg blankly; his smile seemed to grow wider. \**You have died, Mr.Jameson! Congratulations*!\* *What…*? I thought. *I died*? *I'm…dead*? Rats; that street vermin's ferocious attack on me had actually succeeded in ending my life. Rats had "*rectified my physicality." That rat bastard…* I felt bitterness, rage, shock, panic, despair, terror…all at once. I risked collapsing again. To avoid losing myself, I focused on forming words: "So…what…" I had to swallow. "What now?" I croaked. \**This one is here to adjudicate the balance of your collective spiritual value!\** I stared uncomprehendingly. \**This is your Final Judgement, Mr.Jameson. This one is here to decide whether you go Up-\** Greg lifted a finger, pointing to the ceiling \**or…Elsewhere*.\* It pointed its thumb downward. The last word practically seethed with nefarious implication. I could hear the capitol. I felt a tingle, a slow rush. This…this is what I had been preparing for my entire life! I had put all my chips, bet everything, on Pascal's Wager, and… I had won! I actually smiled a little. "So. Greg. How does this work?" I was almost smarmy with confidence. Greg raised a hand that was suddenly holding a manilla file folder; the folder was quite thin. Greg opened it. It appeared to be reading. \*This is so fucking weird,\* I thought. \*But…good god, I had won the wager!\* Greg seemed to be taking his time. However, I began noticing that the longer Greg read, the more its obscene smile drooped. I heard a mental exhalation, which could only be interpreted as a sigh, and Greg took the chair opposite me. My elation had quieted to terse anticipation. Greg closed the folder. It rested its elbows on the table, laced its fingers together, and leaned forward, looming over me. Its frown seemed to radiate waves of disappointment. \**After much consideration this one has come to the conclusion that you, Mr.Jameson, only qualify for…Elsewhere.*\* It turned a thumb downwards, and froze. It frowned there, unmoving, statue-still and observing me. For what felt like the umpteenth time on this surreal journey, I was stunned stupid. "Else…Elsewhere? Down? Hell?! I'm going to Hell?! \*What the actual fucking hell, man?"\* Greg held his downward-pointing pose a few moments more before resuming its laced-finger consideration. \**The Statistician is never mistaken, Mr.Jameson. It seems that, though the majority of your actions have been interpreted as good by the universal morals accepted by the individuals you interacted with, it appears the motivations behind your actions were inherently tainted. Everything you did, every action you took, was meant for yourself. Not a good action was taken without the essence of selfishness stiffening its core. It is, how do you say, The Good Place rules.\** *\*True goodness is selflessness. It is acting in the right because it is RIGHT; not to hedge the outcomes against a cosmic…What do you call it..? Ah. A gamble. You treated the life you were gifted as a trite novelty. Now…you pay the price. This one will ensure you get what you deserve.\** *No no no no no no no…* I began panting; I was hyperventilating! *This can't be this cant be this cant be….* "This is wrong! This wasn't how it was supposed to be! *This isn't fucking fair*!" Greg's smile grew. It grew, and grew, and grew, until the four-teeth rows turned to 6, then 8, until it seemed its smile wrapped around and met at the back of its head! It chuckled, then; not in my head, but a real, throaty, *hungry* chuckle. Greg reached for me, and I screamed and screamed and- \**FLASH*\* For a fraction of a second, my vision went white, and my whole body jerked; Greg paused, rictus smile turning downward in a dissatisfied frown. \**FLASH*\* Again! My whole body twitched violently, for the briefest of moments. Greg stopped moving, his frown now a grimace. He moved an arm, one finger extended, towards me, hovering just over my hand. \**FLASH*\* Twitch! \**Mr.Jameson…*\* The finger pressed down on the back of my hand; a searing pain radiated from it as if a brand had been pressed to my flesh! \**FLASH*\* Twitch!! \**I'll be seeing you again. Real soon.\** He smiled again. \**FLASH*\* TWITCH!! Everything went dark. \*\*\* Cold. I was cold. I felt wetness. And…pain. Oh, God! So much pain! My stomach and… God, my hand too! And voices, slowly sharpening into coherency. "...-'s back!" "How's the bleeding?!" "It's slowed; he's lost a lot of blood but we have a pulse!" "He's gonna need surgery! Call ahead to book a room! What the hell happened to his hand, though?" Voices. Human voices. I opened my eyes, and saw that I was inside an ambulance. "Mr. Jameson! Everything will be ok! We're paramedics who will take care of you and help you!" I croaked out two words with a weak smile: "Not…Greg…" Darkness took me yet again \*\*\* Apparently, they were able to keep me alive long enough to reach emergency surgery. I barely made it through the surgery, but somehow, I held on by the skin of my teeth and survived long enough to begin healing. As I woke up for the first time in my hospital room, muzzy and groggy and barely able to process being alive, the attending nurse exclaimed in excitement. "Mr.Jameson! Welcome back! Somebody up there must like you, eh?" I stared at her with unamused consternation and managed a weak "go… to hell…" \*\*\* Healing took a long time. Physical therapy took even longer. They said the wound on my hand was akin to a severe chemical burn. After what felt like an eternity, I finally, *finally*, walked back into my apartment; my home. The healing had occupied my entire existence up till now. At the moment, though, I was musing on my experience with Greg. Sitting down on my bed, I lost myself in thought. I was fucked. No matter what I did, it seemed as if I were destined for Elsewhere. The joke wasn't lost on me, but I didn't feel like laughing. I sighed in resignation, in acceptance. I made my decision. Opening my bedside table, mindful of my wounded hand, I rummaged around, digging to the bottom, digging for what I hid there. Grasping the handle, I pulled out the uncannily long Bowie knife. Some nights, I would often hold it, fantasising; I would revell in dark daydreams that had no place in the life of a good man. I started laughing. Knowing what I know, knowing where I was eventually headed, I laughed and felt a burden lift off my shoulders; it seemed I could stop feeling guilty for my darker urges, my taboo impulses; it seemed that, finally, I could let myself go. With the wound claiming testament to my experience, and testing the edge of my knife, I laughed, trying to decide who would be the first person I sent to meet Greg.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16t7av0/no_good_deed_goes_unpunished/

nosleep

baileyssinger

The Parasol - Part 1

Even if all the other details are more fantastic, more terrifying, and more difficult to live with - what strikes me most at the beginning was the cold. That night, even with a fire set, the cold was like being alone on a flat midwestern plain in the dead of winter. It felt like being the last one left with the last gasp. No sun. No light. No stars. I didn't consider myself experienced even after fifteen years on the job. It had been a bad night to be a detective, but truthfully, most nights were bad anyway. I dusted the light snow off my jacket and placed it around the chair at my kitchen table, rubbed my temples and moaned as if the sound could somehow comfort the silence of my home. When I had taken the job in Oakwood Falls the town wasn't growing, but it wasn't dead either. There were two detectives then. Now the population was a few hundred less, and I was the only detective. The divorce came later. Later enough that I could still feel the happiness in the walls, the warmth of it, like steel that is cooling when removed from a forge. I grabbed a can of something. I rarely looked or even cared to see the labels. It was food and I would eat it. The phone buzzed at my hip, but by the time I went to answer, the caller had realized they had made some mistake and hung up. Still, looking through contacts I found her name. Wen. The impulse to call, especially on such a cold night. The impulse to- And suddenly everything was white, and I was above the clouds, and soaring higher. There was some speckled blue like a bird's egg, but the rest was dense cotton, and some kind of horn from a distance, blaring. Deep voices penetrated the depth of time itself and I began to laugh as the clouds broke, and multiple colors of silk cloth streaked across the sky, and all manner of creatures, multiple arms and legs, wide spanning faces. Some were smiling and some were screaming. And a voice among them said,"The plum that falls from the trees splashes red upon the ground." And there I was again, in the kitchen of a small home in Kansas, alone. I braced myself against the island in the kitchen's center, and staggered my way to the chair with my coat, sat down and leaned forward catching my breath in stalled increments. Picking up the phone again, I called an ambulance. \-- I never minded small spaces. Crawling under a house or being stuck in an elevator never bothered me. Sometimes, even being buried alive seemed almost cozy. But a lack of answers, an open question, something moving like an eel on the tip of the tongue without any concept to to give it closure - these are the truest terrors of the world. I asked the doctor, a middle aged woman who seemed concerned in a distant way, making calculations somewhere else, "Look, it has never happened before and I'm positive I wasn't dreaming. I'm not religious and I am even less superstitious." "Well," She paused, as if searching for more questions she also couldn't find, "I am sorry Mr. Kelt. I can find nothing out of the ordinary with the tests we've done. Look, I want you to set up an appointment with a neurologist in the next week. You should rule out all possibilities, if only to give yourself some kind of comfort." I shrugged, "I'm afraid comfort is in short supply these days. But sure- do you have a recommendation?" "Dr. Cabe West is wonderful. They'll help you set it up on your way out." I nodded as my eye caught what I had assumed was her wedding ring. But this ring shone in a five colored band, and there was some kind of script I couldn't define in three letters. My stomach turned when I saw it. But the night was cold, the air was dead and still, and there was nothing to do but return home. No answers. I stood, felt dizzy for a moment, and then began to walk out of the office and toward the exit. \-- The sun had risen but the cold remained. It was bitter and unmoving. Slate remarked on it as we drove over. “Can you believe this, Kelt? Mercury stuck in the negatives and not a damn reason for it that I can see.” “Arctic blast,” I murmured as I stared out the window of the cruiser. “I don’t know about all that,” She said with a half-tilt of her head in my direction, “All I know is it is too fucking cold for Kansas in November. Not natural!” The last part broke the mid-afternoon haze as she lightly struck the wheel with her palms. Cherry Slate was not much over five feet, but she was stout and powerful in build, strong in a surprising way for any fool that had a mind to cross her. And though her language and mannerism could be crass and blunt, her mind was sharp. If Oakwood hired a second detective he would recommend her. Everyone called her Slate. No one ever called her Cherry. “I can’t disagree with that,” I said, as I rolled down the window, lit a cigarette and prepared for what was ahead. “Can’t they promote their own goddam detective?” She asked and she shook her head in disappointment, “I mean, we gotta drive out there, it’s neighborly, it’s nice, it’s the right thing to do or whatever but- Steve didn’t retire that long ago. Deputize him and save me a drive and a morbid afternoon.” Steve Soung had been the detective in Gold Harbor for thirty years, a town with no gold, and no harbor anywhere. When he retired, they hadn’t hired anyone else. Perhaps they felt there would never be a crime there that warranted it. Today had proved them wrong. The cruiser pulled into the weed overgrown lot of the Bluebird Motel. Several other cars were already there, lights flashing on a couple of them, and some officers working in front of a room on the lower floor, to the far right of the office. I had expected to see some death chasers outside the tape, but there was no one but the bundled up and badged, the unhappy workers in human misery, weathering the hours of ice. I had barely exited the cruiser when retired Detective Soung approached me with a big outstretched hand and a wide smile on his face. “Tom Kelt! As I live and breathe!” He emphasized the last two words like nails hammered into a board. I shook his hand. There was something crushing about his grip, even though he wasn’t using much pressure in the gesture. “What do we have here, Detective?” I asked. “Oh, no. No no no. I am retired and just meeting you here as a courtesy.” He smiled but I didn’t respond and kept my gaze. “Well uh… some domestic problems I think.” He pulled a bit at the back of his neck and I could tell from his expression that he was disturbed. A groan came from somewhere, slow and clicking and wet. “What the hell was that?” I said, looking around for the source of the death rattle. “What the hell was what?” Steve asked, as he also began to look around, and finally looked to his side where Officer Slate was walking toward him. “Am I missing something?” She said and looked from the retired detective to myself. Then both of them began to look at me for answers. And again, I didn’t have them. “Nothing, I guess.” To stave off further questions I began to walk toward the scene. When I got there a small forensic team from Oakwood had already begun to meticulously gather and mark evidence. Small bags and cards with numbers set up in a scientific way around a ghastly, but clear scene. I wondered why they had even called me. On the carpet, stretched out toward the door, was a thin woman in her mid twenties with short, nearly shaved hair and tattoos on her arms and legs. She had on shorts and a sports bra, and there were two gunshot wounds in her back. The room had two twin beds, and on the one closest to the bath and shower lay a man half sprawled, two decades older than the woman, with long hair matted with blood where he had shot himself, gun still held loosely in his dead hands. “Who were the lovebirds?” Slate said unsympathetically. “Why assume that?” I said, somewhat sarcastically, and somewhat in the hopes of leaving the door of possibility open. “Two bags. Both unpacked,” She pointed to the floor between the beds, “And half a box of condoms on the nightstand.” She shrugged, “I mean, unless there are sex workers around these parts that go about with luggage-” She smiled and looked at me with a quizzical expression that seemed to ask me if I knew more than she did. “Yeah, well, I am going to look around anyway,” I said, determined. I began my search as I had for years, examining the bodies with gloved hands, sifting through what the working team had already marked, and then moving to the unexamined areas. The bathroom and shower looked in working order. There were no signs of any other kind of struggle or fight anywhere. Yet, in the back, to the left of the small closet, was another door. “Does this lead to another room,” I asked to anyone who might know. Steve Soung looked toward the open door of the motel room, out toward a short man in jeans and a t-shirt, pacing and looking sick. “Hey, does the door in the back go to another room?” The short thin man looked up with hollow eyes, “What? Oh. No, that one goes outside.” “This motel room has a back door?” I asked incredulously. “They all do here.” He said in a soft voice, looking down toward the ground. I looked toward him for a while in an empty state of disbelief. I thought to ask why, but I’d had enough of a lack of answers in the last day, and I felt I’d only be getting more. I turned back toward the door and opened the inside lock and stepped outside. There was a small concrete step in front of the door that led down into overgrown grass. I walked down into the grass, stooped low and for no reason at all, passed my hand through the leaves. Standing back up, I walked a few feet forward, and heard the same groan as before, slightly louder, and this time, I felt pleasure, inexplicable and sudden. I turned on my heel back toward the door. It was closed. Everything had gone silent and the temperature had seemed to drop. I unclipped my pistol from its holster at my side instinctually, and placed my hand on the hilt. “Officer Slate! Steve!” I called, but there was no echo. In fact, it seemed as if no sound had come from my throat. Looking around I noticed a small patch of red on the ground, just a few drops in a bed of snow melting into the earth. With caution, I walked toward the red stains, and saw a path made of droplets that led up to a hill behind the motel. My heart-rate increased as I walked the trail, following the dread path. Once I ascended, I looked forward and saw a plum tree, and I heard the voice again, unable to to tell if it was a memory or speaking again: "The plum that falls from the trees splashes red upon the ground." There, where the trail led to the base of the tree was a fat red plumb, broken open and bleeding, wet and appearing like a small heart. “KELT!” Slate's voice broke the silence and I looked over and saw her standing about ten feet from me, exasperated and slightly angry. “What the fuck are you doing up here? Why didn’t you answer me?” I looked back toward the ground. There was only grass and a small amount of snow. There was no tree and no drops of red, only an empty field bordered by some barren trees in the distance. “I thought I saw something,” I said in a broken voice, still looking in the direction of what I had seen. “Did it impair your hearing?” She said, “Look, get yourself together, detective. I think we have what we need here. We identified them. Jim Espie and Kat Parr. Missing person was filed two days back by his sister, both from Chicago. Just got word from the PD there.” I nodded and said, “Let’s go. Maybe we can file the report, send it to Gold Harbor and still get home at a decent time.” “Works for me…” She looked at me again with a curious and concerned look. “Ya weirdo.” She added in a friendly way that masked her questions. – The sun had begun to set. The cold was no worse and no better. I walked to my car outside the station. It took a few turns at the starter, but the engine was fortunately resurrected. I felt my phone buzz and went to pick it up. Another hang up. Just as before I looked up Wen’s name in my contacts. I returned my phone to its place and began to drive the short journey on the road through the flat dead plains toward my home. “Hey, hey, hey!” I saw Slate slightly jogging toward my window and rolled it down. “What’s up?” I said, looking in her direction. “Kelt, look, I’d be a shitty cop and a shittier friend if I didn’t ask. Are you alright to drive? Back at the Bluebird you seemed-” “I’m really alright, Slate. I just didn’t sleep much. You know the last year with Wen and-” “No, no. I know. I don’t mean or want to get personal, buddy.” She said, “But look. If you need me you can always call. I can beat you at cards. Maybe that’ll make you feel better.” I smiled, “See you tomorrow, Slate.” She nodded, tapped her fingers at the bottom of my window, then turned and walked in the direction of her own car. – After I watched Slate drive off, I sat in my own car for about half an hour. I couldn’t place why I didn’t want to drive, or move, or even think. My body felt filled to the skull with cement. Finally, slowly, as the light of the sun passed under the horizon, I began to back out of the parking space, and make my way into the night. A little over half-way to my home, in the distance, I could see the emergency lights of a small sedan. I began to slow down and pulled to the side of the road. Before getting out, I surveyed the scene. In the short distance ahead I could see what appeared to be a Native American man in a fine suit, with turquoise earrings and some kind of amulet made of the same, leaning over the opened hood of the car. The license plate indicated a rental. I got out of my car and walked ahead a few steps, “Sir, could you use any help?” I asked in a neutral tone. The face appeared from behind the hood, thin, with a long chin and dark eyes, black hair tied up in a top knot. His face was at ease, and looked genuinely glad to see me. “Oh! Wonderful!” He said and placed his hands together. “Things a rental.” He said pointing at the car. “And more importantly, I have no idea what I’m doing.” I grinned and said, “Well, I can’t help you there, but I can give you a ride if you need. Is there anyone I can call? Are you from far?” He laughed lightly in a high tone, “Farther than you might think, my friend.” Then he said, “I am here on business. But someone I know lives close and I’m staying with her. I’d appreciate the ride if you really don’t mind.” I couldn’t quite place the accent that barely traced through his speech. “Sure, if you need help calling a tow I know a guy. I’m local police and I can help you get your ride to a mechanic, no charge.” “Sent straight from the Ushnisha.” He said. “What?” I replied, not understanding the term. He shook his head and laughed again in that same high squeaky pitch. “No worries Just gratitude.” – “You came all the way from Sikkim?” I asked, “I don’t mean to be rude but… it’s been a long time since my high school geography class. I’m not even sure where that is.” He waved it away with his hand, “No trouble. Easy to forget what we cannot see. Gangtok is far from the eyes of many.” “You said you are here on business? Oakwood Falls is many things, but an international hub for commerce it is not.” “It has to do with,” He paused, “The land.” He seemed to be considering his words for the first time and the ease of his voice had parted for something else entirely, something like distrust. “There is an old family plot here I guess you could say. Some distant relatives and friends that moved this way a generation back.” I didn’t exactly pride myself on knowing each of the inhabitants of Oakwood, but I couldn’t recall immigrants coming from anywhere for nearly a decade. I considered that the roots of the life of the town were long dead Then the horns began again and I was flying. There were fewer clouds now, and suddenly I was looking at the great multicolored city of silk cloth and I could see its shape now formed in the sky ahead of me. A rainbow parasol the size of a great castle, spinning and casting off lights. The chants began once again as I flew closer. I could see the ground far below and it seemed to be slithering and moving in a strange and unprecedented way. My breath caught in my throat and I felt I was falling into the folds of silk. And then, something else- It smelled like a boneyard, and it broke through like a sudden crash of cymbals. The sensation of crawling ants as I felt it moving across my legs and looked down, under white robes, to see it pulsing its way up my feet and shins. At first the substance looked black and beneath the surface, but as I peered closer it was the color of plum wine, and it moved across the top of my skin and not under it. I heard a kind of laugh escape my throat and felt fingers, long and tubular, touch my chin. Looking up I saw a kind of man, but tree-like, with four branch-like arms and three faces. He was half decomposed, in some places showing skin and in others black rotten bark. On the right eye of his central face was sewn a kind of canvas, and upon it drawn a crude sun. The music now had gone cacophonous, and the horns blared a terrible sound, overwhelming with sorrow. “The plum runs red and is almost dry.” He said in a soft whisper. “And the earth drinks up its life.”

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16t3pdc/the_parasol_part_1/

nosleep

jjustinn85

Sneaky Peaky The Clown Tried To Kill Me Twice.

Hey fam, call me Maddy. It's not my real name, and I've asked a friend to make this post, so I'm untraceable. I just NEED to share this story, so, I dunno, brace yourselves, okay? ​ So let's go back to when I was just a 12-year-old girl. My dad decided to surprise me with a day at this circus I had wanted to see. The air was buzzing with laughter and chatter, and the intoxicating scent of cotton candy and popcorn hung heavy, mixing with the thrilling sounds of rides and games. The atmosphere was alive with excitement, with bright lights illuminating every corner. ​ They had this clown show going on, and I begged my dad to take me. Among the colorful clowns, there was this one guy, Sneaky Peeky. From the get-go, his eyes were locked onto me, his gaze lingering, probing. It wasn't outright creepy but unsettling, like shadows dancing in the corner of your eye.  ​ Sneaky Peaky was dressed in a polka-dotted onesie that clashed with chaotic, oversized shoes. His face, painted white with a sinister, ear-to-ear red grin and dark, penetrating eyes, exuded an unsettling presence. A wig of curly green hair crowned his head, and a bright red oversized nose completed his creepy ensemble.  ​ After the show, he approached with that creepy focus in his eyes and said, "Hey kid, wanna see a trick?" He pulled out a coin and, with a flick of his wrist, made it vanish and reappear behind my ear. It wasn't anything grand, but the way he was looking at me made my skin crawl. ​ Then he offered me a lollipop and asked, "Wanna play hide and seek?" His unsettling grin was still plastered on his face. Dad, sensing the vibe, was swift. "No thanks," he said, and we left the scene hastily. But Sneaky Peeky was relentless. He was literally lurking around every corner we turned. The sight of his grotesque smile hiding behind walls and curtains became a regular and unnerving occurrence. Dad finally had enough and confronted him, but Sneaky Peeky just stared past him, his gaze fixed directly on me. Dad reported him to security, and we left abruptly. ​ That night, I couldn't shake off the bad vibes. I couldn't sleep. I still had that feeling of being watched.I was lying there in bed, feeling uneasy, like something was just not right. The room was kind of dim, you know, with just the soft glow from the streetlight sneaking through the curtains, playing tricks with the shadows. ​ And suddenly, there he was.I glanced over at the window, and my heart skipped a beat. Sneaky Peaky, with that ghastly white makeup covering his face, was right there, staring in my window in the glow of the streetlight. He mouthed the words "found you" through the glass. His eyes were locked onto mine, and I froze for a moment, like my whole body forgot how to move or scream.  ​ But it only lasted a few seconds. As he reached to open the window, fear took over, and I let out a scream that probably woke up the whole neighborhood. My dad came rushing in, but by the time he got there, Sneaky Peaky was gone. It was like a nightmare—something you can't believe actually happened. This twisted game of hide and seek didn't stop; his appearances became an ongoing nightmare. I would see him at school, at the mall, even outside my friends' houses!  ​ The police finally decided to surveil our house, and one night, they spotted him approaching our backyard in the middle of the night, his grip firm on a sinister bag. They apprehended him swiftly; the bag had all kinds of horror stuff like duct tape, a taser, a long hunting knife, and chloroform with a rag. It was all real. My nightmare was real. ​ I woke up to the commotion and looked out my bedroom window; his gaze immediately locked onto mine from the back of the cop car. It was the most terrified I had ever been to that point. There was a strange sort of twisted satisfaction on his face, despite being in handcuffs.  ​ I thought the circus was a nightmare, but the trial was a real-life horror show. I learned his name was actually Sneaky Peeky—he had it legally changed. He was this eerie specter in the courtroom, tall and lanky, his skin pale and his eyes sunken, shadowed by dark circles that made him look more like a ghoul than a man. He looked almost as creepy even without the clown outfit. ​ Testifying was like living the nightmare all over again, only this time his chilling gaze was unrelenting. He seemed to pierce right through me, never blinking or looking away; his stare was a constant reminder of the torment he planned for me. It felt like I was his prey, and he was relishing every moment of my suffering. ​ He faced charges of attempted kidnapping and attempted murder, and the court echoed with the whispers of his macabre intentions. He unabashedly admitted his twisted plans—his desire to abduct me and to end my life in the most horrifying way imaginable. It seemed like he wanted me to hear it and know exactly what he had in store for me. His dark, haunting eyes never left mine, turning the courtroom into a living nightmare.  ​ I tried to push forward, to bury the painful memories as he got sentenced to ten long years behind bars. The world started to regain its colors, the shadows retreated, and I moved to a new city, hoping to leave the past behind. College was a fresh start, a place where I met my boyfriend, and we started building a life together, away from the haunting memories of Sneaky Peeky. ​ Yet, just as the fear began to fade into the background, a call brought it all crashing back. It was detective Rawley, who had handled Sneaky's case, He informed me of Sneaky's impending release, and every ounce of security I had built around me shattered into a million pieces. Rawley tried to reassure me, mentioning Sneaky would be on parole and under close supervision, and I should be fine. His words were supposed to bring comfort, but they felt like hollow promises. ​ The memories, the fears—they all came rushing back, making me question how this could be possible. Could he still be obsessed with me after all this time? I became a shell of my former self; I was constantly on edge, and the world around me became a haunted house with Sneaky Peeky lurking around every corner. I stopped leaving the apartment, not even for classes or the gym. ​ Fast forward a few weeks. My boyfriend and I were curled up on the couch, watching a movie. We tried to find comfort in each other's company. But deep down, I knew that the looming threat of Sneaky Peeky was growing with each day he remained free.As we watched, my phone rang, jolting me from the momentary distraction. I glanced at the caller ID, and my heart sank. It was Detective Rawley again. Dread washed over me as I answered, my voice trembling. "Rawley's voice was solemn, confirming my worst fears. ​ Sneaky Peeky had absconded, violating his parole conditions, and he hadn't been seen in two weeks. The police had issued a warrant for his arrest. To make it worse, he said they had found photos of me when they searched his place. Lots and lots of photos. ​ My hand trembled as I held the phone closer. I didn't need to ask if there was any reason to be scared; the fear was already growing inside me. This was bad. The detective tried to reassure me; his words were a faint comfort. "We're taking this seriously, Maddy," he said. "Officers are actively searching for him. "In the meantime, a plainclothes officer will keep an eye on your apartment, just in case. ​ Despite his words, I couldn't find any relief. Sneaky Peeky's obsession with me was unrelenting. I thanked the detective and ended the call, my heart heavy with fear once more. ​ Days passed, each one adding to the mounting anxiety .And then came the unthinkable. My boyfriend, the one person who made me feel safe during all this, was struck by a hit-and-run driver. My boyfriend had been crossing the street on his way home from work. The car came out of nowhere, striking him with a sickening thud before speeding away, callously leaving him injured on the asphalt.  He lay in the hospital with severe injuries, but he miraculously survived. The description he provided of the driver sent shivers down my spine—it sounded all too much like Sneaky Peeky. The eyes, he said, had locked onto him—deep, dark eyes, penetrating.  ​ It was clear to me that he wanted my boyfriend out of the way so he would have an easier time getting to me. In the middle of all this chaos, I found myself facing an agonizing decision: stay by my boyfriend's side, knowing that Sneaky Peeky was closing in, or escape to the safety of my dad's place back home. It was a choice that weighed heavily on my heart and was one of the toughest I had ever made. ​ Eventually, I decided that leaving would be the safer option for both of us. Sneaky Peeky's relentless pursuit meant danger not only for me but for anyone close to me. I decided I would drive to my dad's place the next morning. I spent the day preparing, packing essentials, and going over the route in my head. ​ I knew I needed to see my boyfriend and explain my decision to him. When I arrived at the hospital, the look in his eyes told me that he understood the gravity of the situation. We held each other, tears streaming down our faces, knowing that the road ahead would be difficult. ​ I headed home to spend one last night in the apartment by myself. I was terrified of the idea, but the fact that the police were watching my place made me feel a bit better.  ​ As I entered my apartment, the place felt strangely dark, eerily different from how I had left it. I could have sworn I had left all the lights on. With a sense of unease gnawing at me, I quickly flicked on the hallway light and opened the closet door to hang my jacket.  ​ And there he was, in the closet, like something straight out of a horror movie. Sneaky  Peeky's face had super-thick white makeup all over, like, seriously caked on. His lips were painted this bright, scary red, stretched into this big, twisted grin that just looked wrong. And that clown nose—it was like a freaky cherry on top, all shiny and red.  ​ His eyes, though, were the worst part. He had these dark, intense eyes, like they could see right through you. They were outlined with heavy black eyeliner, making them look even more piercing. It felt like he was staring into your soul, and not in a good way. ​ He was wearing a green wig and polkadot onesie with these huge, oversized shoes. They made this weird clomping noise as he walked, making it even scarier as he moved towards me.I swear, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. My mind raced back to that awful night when I was just a kid—the night I saw him at my window. It was like time stood still, and my whole body tensed up. I couldn't move, not even an inch. ​ Sneaky Peeky yelled, "Found you, Maddy!" His voice was insane, like he'd been waiting for this moment his whole life. I wanted to scream, to run, to do anything, but I was stuck, frozen in place. Before I could react, he lunged at me, his skinny fingers gripping my arms. Panic surged as he clamped a damp rag over my mouth. I fought back with everything I had left, but I could feel my vision going dark fast.  ​ As everything faded to black, Sneaky pulled me close, breathing heavily. He ran his fingers through my hair, inhaling deeply and muttering those creepy words, "Found you, Maddy... found you." I could feel his hot breath on my neck as he rocked back and forth, cradling my semi-conscious body. ​ I remember trying to scream, but no noise came out of my mouth.I woke up with a pounding headache, disoriented, and in complete darkness. It took me a moment to realize I was in the trunk of a car. Panic surged through me as I realized my arms and legs were tightly duct-taped, and there was another piece of tape over my mouth, making it nearly impossible to make a sound. The car was moving fast, and the vibrations and hum of the engine were making me feel queasy. It seemed like we were on a highway, as it was going quite fast. My mind raced, and a thousand terrifying thoughts raced through my head.  ​ I made a silent promise to myself. I wasn't going down without a fight. I couldn't let him see me as scared or defeated. I had to find a way to break free and get out of this nightmare alive. ​ Just as I was mentally preparing myself for the worst, I heard the distant wailing of sirens, and through the cracks in the trunk, I could see flashes of red and blue lights. My heart raced even faster, and hope flickered in the darkness of my fear.The car began to slow down, pulling over to the side of the road. This was it—a critical moment. I had to stay alert and be ready for anything. The sound of approaching footsteps grew louder, and I braced myself for whatever was about to happen next.I heard an officer shout for the driver to turn off the vehicle and drop the keys outside the car. ​ Thank God it wasn't a simple traffic stop. I could hear the voice of the officer close, so I began kicking on the roof of the trunk. I managed to peel the duct tape enough to unleash a piercing scream. It was a moment of triumph, but it was short-lived. The cop yelled "SHOW ME YOUR HANDS!" with much more urgency, but instead the driver hit the gas peeling off with a squeal of tires on the pavement. The car careened off the highway, and the smooth ride turned into a turbulent journey on a bumpy road. The sirens grew more distant, and I felt utterly disoriented inside the dark trunk.  ​ After a few more minutes, the car pulled over, and Sneaky Peaky hastily ripped open the trunk. "Bad girl, Maddy," he said with that same twisted grin on his face. He wagged his finger back and forth at me. We were in the woods now, and I could hear a river raging nearby.  ​ Sneaky Peaky grabbed me, heaving me over his shoulder with surprising strength, and he began marching into the woods.But just as the wail of sirens filled the air, a police car skidded to a stop about 10 meters away from us. The officer jumped out, gun drawn, and yelled for Sneaky to freeze. This was my moment; I had promised to fight, and it was now or never. I opened my mouth, and with the ferocity of an angry pitbull, I sunk my teeth into Sneaky's back. I could feel my teeth sinking into his flesh, and a disgusting gush of warm blood filled my mouth. ​ Sneaky squealed and dropped me to the ground with a thud. He regarded me for a moment with a look of surprise and amusement on his face. He reached towards me, and just then a gunshot rang out. ​ I saw Sneaky stumble back and fall into a small ditch. He got to his feet and made one last moment of eye contact with me. He seemed to consider his options, and then he said, "My turn to hide." He winked and honked his grotesque, oversized clown nose, and with that, he disappeared into the darkness.  ​ The cop rushed to my side, and I begged him to pursue Sneaky, but he said protocol was to wait for reinforcements. Besides, he said, I shot him clean in the leg and he wouldn't get far.  ​ But of course they did not find Sneaky Peaky; to this day, he remains "at large," as Detective Rawley put it. They found his giant clown shoes at the edge of the river. Rawley assured me that even the strongest swimmer could not survive that current. But until I see a body, I am going to assume he is alive.  ​ This all happened about a year ago. ​ Personally, I'm sure he's still out there. obsessing over me, waiting for another chance to strike. I have developed a pretty bad case of coulrophobia, which is an intense and irrational fear of clowns, often leading to anxiety or panic attacks when confronted with clown-related situations or imagery. Although in this case, my shrink says there's nothing irrational about it. I have nightmares about the guy on a regular basis, and this is why I don't have Instagram anymore. I have relocated to a new country, hopefully far away from Sneaky Peaky. ​ I just had to share my story, so make of it what you will, but if you will take one piece of advice from me, let it be this. Don't trust clowns. ​ If you see a clown, turn away, do not engage with them, and under no circumstances should you ever go to the circus. At least not until Sneaky Peaky is dead or behind bars.I honestly believe there is something twisted in a person who wants to be a clown. dressing up like some sort of freak show. ​ It's literally disgusting. Whenever I see them, even on TV, it brings on a panic attack. Anyway, Fam, sleep tight. If you see anything sus that makes you think of Sneaky Peaky, post it below, and I'll make sure Detective Rawley gets the info. ​  Guys I also recorded this, if you prefer to listen [Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6j9yVfXfE2o&t=549s). People need to know about this guy, we need to spread the word.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16t7x3y/sneaky_peaky_the_clown_tried_to_kill_me_twice/

nosleep

Enter_The_Multiverse

My Daughter's Closet- Part 1

It all started a few years ago. My husband and I had just bought our very first house together after living four years in a small apartment. We had spent most of our relationship living in that cramped space, even before we got married. So, when my husband got a better job opportunity, we both knew that a house would be much better suited for us, especially if we wanted to start a family someday. We found this cute three-bedroom house just outside the city in a very nice little community. The house stood at the end of a street at the edge of the woods. It was a comfortable two-story house with all the bedrooms upstairs. It had a decent sized backyard with the woods just behind the picket fence that surrounded the house. My husband, of course, was in love with it. I, on the other hand, had a strange feeling about it. A feeling that told me that something was off about this place. But still, it was a lot better than the previous apartment that we had just left. Plus, we would have a lot of privacy. At first, I thought it was adorable, a wonderful home to start a family in. But as the weeks went on, I kept having this uneasy feeling about something. I couldn’t quite understand it, but I had this sensation that I wasn’t alone. I quickly brushed it off, thinking that it was just my imagination. Of course, not long after we moved in, I got pregnant. My husband and I were so happy when we found out. We immediately got to work on the baby’s room right next to ours, picking out all kinds of clothes and deciding whether or not to paint the walls or buy wallpaper. We were so excited about starting our new family. But on the days when my husband was at work, that feeling of not being alone came back, especially when I was in the baby’s room. Then one day, in my late second trimester, I was in the baby’s room painting the walls, deciding to go with pink after finding out it was a girl. I suddenly heard a noise. At first, I didn’t know what it was, but it sounded like a small thud. It startled me and listened intently for a long while, not sure if I made it up or not. But then I heard it again. It was quiet, but it was there, and it was coming from the closet. Cautiously, feeling my heart beating faster in my chest, I moved towards the closest. It was a double folded door tha t was quite large, enough for you to stand in and have your arms out. I didn’t know what I was going to find up there, but I was also afraid to find out. Slowly, I gripped both handles, my hands shaking terribly as I did so. Then, like a band aid, I jerked the doors open, expecting to see someone standing in there. Only to reveal nothing. It was completely empty. I was taken aback; I was sure I heard something. But then I heard the thud again, this time it was above me. I looked up at the only thing above me, a small square lid that led to the attic. Now my heart was pounding so hard that I thought it was going to burst. Now I know that something was up there. But I was no coward. I went down to the kitchen to grab a knife from the counter and returned to the attic door. Steeling my nerves, I climbed up the step ladder I was using before and pressed up against the lid. I opened the lid just enough to peer inside the attic but I couldn’t see anything. And I think that terrified me more than anything. The fact that I couldn’t see that clearly into the darkness, with the thought of something in there staring back at me, made my blood run cold. I held the knife tightly in my left hand, preparing for the worst. I scanned the area around me, but I still could see anything. I couldn’t hear anything either, it was so quiet. Suddenly, something jumped at my face from out of the darkness. I screamed loudly, losing my footing and collapsing onto the floor. I was in immense pain as I landed awkwardly on the ladder. It was at that moment that my husband, who had just arrived home from work early, ran up the stairs and into the room in a panic. He asked me what happened, but before I could explain, I heard skittering on the carpet floor. We both looked to see a tiny chipmunk running across the floor, trying to hide under whatever it could to find shelter. Seeing the little chipmunk running around and realizing that it was the one making all that noise before, I nearly burst out laughing at how ridiculous it all was, if it weren’t for the searing pain in my back from falling over. And just as my husband was trying to get the chipmunk out of the house, my thoughts then turned to my baby. Was my baby okay? I called out my husband’s name in a panic, just as he came rushing back into the room after finally getting the chipmunk out of the house, and he quickly helped me into that car and brought me to the hospital. Thankfully the baby was unharmed. Although I was going to have a bruised back for a good while, my husband and I were just relieved that our baby was okay. After leaving the hospital, we went straight home. But the moment we stepped through the door, that feeling of uneasiness returned. I tried ignoring it, thinking that it was just my anxiety over my pregnancy just messing with me. Later that night, I was laying in bed with my husband. It was getting close to midnight and I was trying to get some sleep. But for whatever reason, I just couldn’t. I was laying on my back with my eyes closed, feeling rather annoyed about not sleeping. But then, that same feeling of being watched returned. I opened my eyes, only to be greeted by the blinding darkness. I closed my eyes again and tried to shake the feeling away, hoping that it was just my imagination or sleep deprivation and overtiredness causing me to overthink. But then, I heard something. It was faint, but I could hear it clearly. There was something moving from outside the room, like something walking on the carpet. I opened my eyes once again, but I still couldn’t see anything, only the darkness that blanketed the room. I listened carefully, trying to pinpoint exactly where it was outside the bedroom. The sound of walking slowly grew louder, like it was getting closer. And that's when the dreaded truth hit me as I remembered; we never shut the bedroom door. It was now in the room, its footsteps getting closer. I looked around frantically, trying to see what or where it was. I wanted to turn my head towards it, but the fear in me prevented it. My heart was throbbing in my chest and I found it very difficult to breathe. I tried to keep myself calm, but I could still hear whatever it was getting closer. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped, and I could hear something else now: Breathing. I could hear it clearly. It’s right next to me, standing right at the edge of my bed. I looked at where the sound was coming from, but I still couldn’t see it. But I knew it was right next to me. I could feel its eyes on me, staring at me in the darkness. My heart was pounding and I could feel a cold sweat all over my body. I tried to move, but my body refused to move. I was paralyzed with fear. Its breathing was closer now, I could feel it right next to my ear. I could feel my tears rolling down my face as I tried to keep myself from crying. I didn’t want whatever it was to know I was awake and aware of it. I silently prayed to myself, hoping for it to go away. The next thing I felt was a long, skinny hand slowly pressed down on my stomach, followed by a low grunt entering my ear. I was finally able to get control of my body and let out a blood curdling scream as I sat up on the bed. My husband woke up and quickly turned on the lights, frantically asking what was wrong. I looked around the room for whatever that thing was, but there was nothing. The room was empty and the bedroom door was wide open. I began sobbing uncontrollably and my husband wrapped his arms around me, trying to calm me down. I told him everything that happened, even though saying it all aloud sounded crazy. My husband tried telling me that it was probably sleep paralysis. But I told him that it wasn’t. That I was wide awake for everything. He looked everywhere in the house, but he couldn’t find anything. When he came back I cried in his arms as he rubbed my back gently. I had never been so terrified in my whole life. Fortunately that was the last time something like that happened. I kept my bedroom door shut everynight and even bought myself a nightlight, as childish as it sounds. My husband thought so too, but supported me nonetheless. But whether he approved or not, I was never going to feel that helpless ever again. Although no incident happened after that night, that same feeling of being watched never left. As the weeks went by, I started feeling better about that night. The more I thought about it, the more I began to question whether or not it really was sleep paralysis. I did research on it and found that there were a few cases where sleep paralysis can increase during the second trimester. After a while, I came to the conclusion that maybe it was just sleep paralysis and I was just remembering it wrong. I started to feel better after that. A few months had passed and I finally gave birth to a healthy baby girl that we named Bella. I was so happy to have my family that I had nearly forgotten about that night entirely. Everything changed once the baby came home. I was so busy with her that the feeling of being watched was nearly forgotten as well. Even though she was a handful at times, I was grateful for the distraction. However, a few months later, things started getting weird again. We kept Bella in the nursery at night, with all doors open incase she needed me in the middle of the night, which was almost every night. She would always wake up around 2am most nights. She didn’t need to be fed or changed though. My husband and I just assumed she wanted attention because as soon as we picked her up, she went right back to sleep after a few minutes. This has been happening after the first month of her being home. One night I heard Bella crying. Same time around 2am, like clockwork. I was feeling extra tired and didn't really have the strength to climb out of bed just yet. But after a few minutes of hearing my daughter wailing from the nursery, I finally pushed myself out of bed. However, as soon as I stepped out of the room, my daughter suddenly stopped crying. I was slightly concerned by this and quickly rushed to the nursery. But once I got there, I saw her sound asleep in her crib. I was really confused by this, as she wouldn’t go back to sleep unless either my husband or I were holding her. But there she was, sound asleep, as if she hadn’t woken up at all. I was puzzled for sure, but seeing that Bella was perfectly fine made me feel relaxed and I headed back to bed. That was the last time she woke up in the middle of the night. A few years later, another strange occurrence happened. Bella was now four years old and had just started learning more and more about her imagination. She would always be in her room playing with her toys and chatting away while I cleaned the house. But then I got curious about what she was up to and decided to peek in on her while she was playing. I poked my head around the doorframe and saw her playing with her toys and chatting away to herself, just like she normally did. But what I found curious was that she was playing by the closet door that was now open. I thought this was strange because I was sure it was closed before and she didn’t know how to open the doors. I just shrugged it off though. Since there was nothing dangerous in there I thought it was fine. But then she looked up at the closet and began talking into it happily, as if she was actually talking to someone in there. I was very curious about her behavior, and continued to watch her further. But as Bella continued talking to her closet, all the memories of what had occured throughout our time living in this house came flooding back. Flashes of that night filled my mind as my heart began pounding in my chest and my body began to tremble. I remembered that horrible breathing against my face and the hand pressed against my stomach. I tried shaking these thoughts away, telling myself to remember that it was only a dream. My daughter then looked my way, giving me that same adorable smile that I loved so much. I didn’t want to worry her so I put on my best smile, hoping that she wouldn’t notice my anxiety, before entering the room and kneeling down beside her. “Hey, sweetie,” I said in a gentle voice. “Hi, Mommy!” she said happily. “Who were you just talking to just now?” Bella didn’t answer me right away as she returned her attention back to the doll in her hands. “Max!” she finally answered. “Max?” I asked. I certainly wasn’t expecting that name. “And who’s Max, sweetie?” Bella looked back at me with her usual smile. “Max is my friend,” she giggled. “He plays with me all the time.” “And where is Max?” Bella pointed up at the closet. “He lives in there.” I looked up at the closet, but there was nothing in there, save for a few clothes hanging up and the small toy bag on the floor. Seeing that nothing was in there, I looked back at my daughter, who was still smiling and playing with her doll. I was starting to get a little nervous, thinking that something else was going on. I had heard stories of children being able to see things that adults couldn’t. Was this one of those times? “Sweetie?” I asked, trying my best not to let my anxiety show. “What does Max look like?” Bella smiled even wider when she looked up at me. “He’s very tall. He’s dis big!” She tried raising her hands as high as she could. “He has long arms and a really big head.” My heart was beginning to pound even harder now. I was almost certain now that Bella was talking to something paranormal. I looked up into the closet, feeling really uneasy. Was there a ghost living inside my daughter’s closet? I stared up at the attic door on the ceiling, my imagination soon getting the better of me. My husband and I didn’t have that many things that needed to be stored away, so there was never any need to put anything up there. In all this time, ever since that chipmunk incident, I had never gone up there. The thought of something paranormal living up there, so close to my daughter, was too terrifying to think about. “But when he plays with me, he can turn into a little ball like this.” She then tucked her knees to her chest and began rolling around on the floor like a ball. Seeing my daughter do this, I immediately released a sigh of relief. I had never heard of ghosts doing that, even around children. With this in mind, I finally came to the conclusion that she had just made up an imaginary friend. I was relieved by this thought and smiled down at Bella. “Okay sweetie,” I said. “Mommy’s going to get started on dinner. You keep playing with Max, okay?” “Okay mommy!” I smiled again and patted her head before standing up to leave the room. As I made my way out, I almost laughed at myself for being so paranoid. Once I was down the stairs, I once again heard Bella laughing and chatting away in her room. I finally let myself chuckle at how ridiculous I was being before heading into the kitchen to get started on dinner. This went on for around a year. Bella would be up in her room most of the time playing with her imaginary friend by the closet. I would occasionally play with her, but most of the time she would say that she wanted to play with Max. One day I asked her why Max couldn’t come out to play with us, but she just brushed it off and said that she just wanted to play with him. I didn’t question it further and left the room, thinking it was just a toddler thing. But I had to admit, I was getting a little hurt that my daughter didn’t want to play with her mother anymore. But I decided to not push the matter and let her be her. Later that night, as I lay in bed, I felt it again. I woke up feeling a presence close by, staring at me. But just as I sat up in bed, that feeling was gone just quickly as it came. I turned on the light next to me, only to see an empty room once more. I rubbed my eyes tiredly, from both lack of sleep and annoyance. I chalked it up to my own imagination getting the best of me again. I looked out the door towards Bella’s room, thinking that she must have woken up in the middle of the night. I climbed out of bed to check up on her, but after seeing that she was still asleep, I went back to bed and fell right back to sleep, completely forgetting what had just happened. A couple days later, I was getting the table set up for dinner when my daughter came over to me, looking at the floor with sad eyes. “Mommy,” she said softly, “I’m sorry.” I was taken aback by her sudden apology. “What for sweetie?” She looked up at me with those sad green eyes. “Because I don’t play with mommy,” she said. “Max says I need to play with mommy more.” I was confused by this, but I could see that she was genuinely sad about it. I knelt down to give my poor baby a big hug. “It’s okay sweetie,” I said. I was moved by her maturity and awareness of how I was feeling. I guess her imaginary friend was a way for her to express how she was feeling. “How about we play together after dinner?” Bella’s eyes lit up and a huge smile appeared. “Okay mommy!” I giggled as I booped her nose, causing her to giggle as well. Then an idea came to mind. “How about I set another plate for Max?” I asked. “That way I can thank him for caring about me.” Bella’s smile grew wider. “Okay!” With that, she ran upstairs to her room. I smiled as she ran off and went to the kitchen to grab another plate for our ‘guest.’ I knew this was a little childish, but if it made my baby happy, then I was willing to play along. I also thought of this as another way to bond with my child. A couple minutes later, Bella came running back downstairs. “Is Max coming for dinner?” I asked, thinking that he was right next to her. But she shook her head. “No,” she answered. “Max doesn’t want to come out.” I looked curiously at her. “Why not?” “Because Max says that he doesn’t want to scare Mommy.” I was confused by this. How could he possibly scare me? “Oh I’m sure that he won’t scare me, sweetie.” But Bella shook her head. “I know. But Max still wont come down.” “Well then when can I meet Max?” Bella looked up towards the stairs before turning back to me. “He says that he’ll come out when he feels you’re both ready.” I gave up and put the extra plate back in the kitchen. To be honest I was kind of relieved. At least I didn’t have to pretend I was having a conversation with an imaginary friend. Soon my husband came home from work and we all sat down for a lovely dinner. As the days went by, Bella and I began to play in her room more often. I was a lot happier now that Bella wanted me around more rather than playing with her imaginary friend. I was beginning to think that she was growing out of this phase. She would still play with Max in her room from time to time, but she would always make time to play with me. Things were simpler now and were starting to feel normal. I couldn’t be happier. But then one day, everything changed. Part 2:https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16u5dxh/my\_daughters\_closet\_part\_2/

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16t94ru/my_daughters_closet_part_1/

nosleep

Firelord515

I’m an ER receptionist. Today I met a patient who scared me. [Part 3]

[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16onxto/im_an_er_receptionist_today_i_met_a_patient_who/) [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16ry6np/im_an_er_receptionist_today_i_met_a_patient_who/) I’m back. I feel slightly better than yesterday. But this morning I woke up with the most awful taste in my mouth ever. And another agonizing headache. I took 5 acetaminophens and it still hurts but I’ll try my best. My breath was awful too. I brushed my teeth 3 times and ate 10 mints, but it won’t go away.What woke me up was a text from an unknown number. *“Melissa please. Help. I’m in HUGE trouble. Help me. Please call this number at 3:00am. – Travis.”* I still don’t know what happened yesterday after I passed out. I know I woke up in Sam’s exam room with a cold compress, hyperventilating and with hot flashes. Also, for some reason, I don’t feel like myself. I feel like... I can’t explain. I answered the phone to my friend this morning and when I said “Hello”, it didn’t feel like me. It didn’t sound like me either. It sounded more deep than my actual voice and came out way more serious than I intended.Or when I was brushing my teeth this morning, I randomly blurted out “*AAAAHHHHHH*” when I was done. My mouth opened all by its own and suddenly let out the “*AAAAAAAHHHHHH*” without me wanting to. I couldn’t do anything about it. Another weird thing happened on my way to work. As I walked across the street to reach the hospital I work at, my arm raised itself and pointed in the right direction. It felt like a “zombie arm”. It moved on its own, without me wanting to. I tried to get my arm back into normal position but it only worked after a few seconds. As I walked straight ahead across the street, I got a stinging sensation in my head. Like a migraine headache, it stung really bad around my eyes. I almost felt compelled to turn right but I had to go to work. I ignored all bad feelings and went into the hospital.The whole walk, I couldn’t get that message out of my head. Travis wants me to call him at 3am? Wasn’t he tied up and in shackles? How do I know this was him? Or someone else pretending to be him? And why 3am? None of that makes any sense. More importantly – what’s up with ME? Why am I feeling so weird? I have a feeling it’s been getting worse since waking up in Sam’s office. Am I allergic to the IV he gave me or something? I sure hope Jason is back today. Because (yes, alright, fine, I will admit it) I miss him. I am very worried about him. Leaving work for 4 consecutive days does not seem like him at all. Something awful must have happened to him. I don’t know why, but it’s just an intuition I have. Normally he wouldn’t stay off work for that long even if he were seriously sick.I do remember how he brushed off my experience on Friday, though. And how he frantically wiped that black stuff away. I know that another redditor pointed this out. “He has what the man had and now you’ve got it too”. But I can’t think of anything I might have. I don’t feel sick. I feel quite normal. Except for these weird intrusive thoughts I’ve been having. Anyway, I arrived at my desk and the intrusive thoughts to leave and turn in the direction my arm pointed into earlier became stronger. I started my computer. I was a bit early. My shift hadn’t started yet. I can’t stop thinking about the message. If the weird man came back to the ER to look for me and show me the video – wouldn’t it make sense that he would come back again? But if so, when would he? And what will he bring or show me this time? I am scared. But I did try to remember and recap what happened yesterday. So I was sitting here. The weird man arrived. He wanted to move towards me but was stopped by the salt bottles. He showed me the video. He told me the story of his dad and how he blames me for it. I was the one who made his father wait and he thinks his would have lived if I didn’t. that’s why he is angry at ME and not Jason or Sam. Wait... when was the incident? The man said his dad died 5 years ago. Around the same time Travis went missing. I figured I should check the patient archive and *OWWWWW MY HEAD OH GOD IT HURTS PLEASE KILL ME*. I tried to remember what happened before I was knocked out. Right. The weird man said he brought his father in here. What was the name of his father? Luckily my memory is a 10/10, so I remembered. It was someone named Joseph something. but surely the case would still be in the patient records somewhere. Maybe in the archive. There I could find all detail about the patient's history, clinical findings, diagnostic test results, etc.. I opened the folder with the patient record archive. what year? 2018. Yup. What month? September. Bingo. There was a file called “Crick\_Joseph\_Brian”. I opened it. Before you say anything – what I do here does NOT break my obligation for patient confidentiality. I am not sharing any confidential information or any medical history records that could get me in trouble later. (and if I am, I’m just repeating what the weird evil man already told me). And this is an emergency so I MUST look up the info. Anyway. I read the file, and it got confirmed that this Joseph person WAS indeed put in an artificial coma. And the machines had to be turned off. It was too late; we couldn’t help him anymore. But the signature at the bottom of the patient file looked strange. Joseph B. Crick was born in 1940. I remember that he couldn’t sign the paperwork himself. He was brought here by his son. So, it must have been the son who signed the paperwork as he checked his father in. I tried to decipher the name in the signature. It said “Peter crick”. So the evil man’s name is (likely) Peter Crick. HE’S COMING FOR YOU MMMMMMM. And this Peter person very likely knows Travis’ whereabouts. I am too nervous to focus on my shift today. And I hope *AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-* I don’t know why I wrote that. Whatever. I need to continue. My shift is starting in a bit. I haven’t seen Jason yet. Normally he should already be here. I’m really starting to think something happened. I don’t like this. It’s all so strange. Suddenly this man shows up, suddenly Travis shows up again, and suddenly Jason disappears too? Those are too many coincidences for my liking. Something does not quite add up here. But another person is missing today. Where the FUCK did Sam go? I’m sure that the doctor should be the first one to be here when my shift starts. He’s always on time.It’s very strange that they BOTH disappear at once. None of this makes sense anymore. It’s getting weirder every day and I’m not liking this. At least I have a clue now. I know the name of the weird man. Now I just need him to show up here again and somehow grab a hold of his phone.How will I do that? If you have any tips, let me know in the comments. I need to somehow... incapacitate him. But I have no idea how to pull it off.I would use chloroform, but I don’t have access to the med room. Same with using an epidural and sneakily injecting Peter with it. That would at least numb his legs for a while so he wouldn’t be able to walk. But then again, I’d need a swipecard to get into the meds room. The only two people who have one are Sam and the security guard. Sam’s not here, and there is no way I can steal or take the guard’s swipecard. So I have to try something else. Also, I can't ask the security guard for help. He will laugh in my face and transfer me to the psych ward if I were to tell him what happened. No way he would take that seriously. I have to take matters in my own hands. Hmm. It looks like there are no other alternatives. If you have ANY ideas, give them to me. I NEED to find out where Travis is. Oh by the way – I just realized the cleaner took all my salt away. Great. And why do I keep having this very strong urge to run away from work and go where my arm pointed? \----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Oh, ok. Sam is coming through the door. But he looks weird. He’s looking kind of scared, stressed and sweaty. As if he really had to make a run. I might even say he looks shaken. Also, he is 45 minutes late. Is he hungover? I briefly laughed, raised my eyebrows, and then looked at him half-mocking, with a side-eye. “Wow, YOU are coming late. And you haven’t called either. By the way, what happened to your hair?” It was only now that I noticed how messy and spikey his hair looked. Normally he wears dreadlocks and his hair is very neat. Sam didn’t answer. He just scurried across the hotel lobby. Alright, whatever.Back to topic - I can’t stop thinking about the text I got this morning. Was it really from Travis? and if it was, why does he text me exactly after a stranger shows up at my workplace and shows me a video of him? That doesn't exactly make sense. And why would he text me at 9:45am to call me at 3am the next night? All of that is very weird. Should I call the number or not? *AAAAAAAA YOU MUST CALL.* What else did Peter show me in the video... what else was there? Right. He wanted Travis to sign something. But what? He asked Travis “will you sign now?”, Travis said “Fuck you”, and Peter then threatened to keep him hostage longer. But what was Travis supposed to sign? Travis worked as an insurance broker. He worked at the insurance the day he disappeared too. And he called me about having an ear infection and having been prescribed an antibiotic. (the SAME antibiotic that Peter slided to me on Friday). That was the last time I heard from him. Ever. So why did Peter kidnap Travis and hold him hostage right after his dad died? And what did he want from Travis? What did he need his signature for? Was it for something insurance-related? Why would he get so angry with Travis for NOT wanting to sign it? And why did he exactly blame ME for his dad’s death? What role did I have in his father dying? I wasn’t the one who put his father in a coma, Jason and Sam did. So why is he angry at ME? All I did was do my job and say that his father had to wait, as we had other emergencies that needed immediate attention. He then yelled at me that his dad was also an emergency. I explained the policy to Peter and he was angry. That’s what I remember from 5 years ago. God, I feel so guilty. Perhaps it WAS my fault after all. I can’t help but feel kind of bad for him, regardless of what happened. *AS YOU SHOULD, YOU DUMB BITCH. NOW YOU WILL SUFFER.* I tried to find more info in the patient records but there was no other useful information. But now that I had Peter’s name, I decided to give Facebook and google a try. Bingo. There he was. And wow. He had quite an abundant lifestyle. Apparently he owned a finca on Mallorca, and he ... How can he afford all of that? The only way to gather that much money as a bank clerk (his facebook says he is one) is by either winning the lottery or collecting huge amounts of life insurance. Wait. No. Is this what I think it is? I need to find out more as soon as my shift is over. I need to be prepared when Peter comes back here again. I gotta stop here. I will keep you posted when I can. EDIT: No, IF. I'll keep updating you IF I can. I'm not sure at this point.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16t0rk7/im_an_er_receptionist_today_i_met_a_patient_who/

nosleep

Temporary_Month_2492

Im never going camping again.

The thought of camping always amused me; sitting by the fire at night and talking with your friends, grilling marshmallows and drinking all while being out in nature. Something about it seemed so peaceful. I shared my thoughts with a couple of close friends and they were all very positive to the idea. We decided to make it happen and drove out to the woods the next weekend. Ashley, Sara, Peter, Malcolm and I were all excited and had packed the car with supplies for the coming three days. It really was as fun as I imagined and during our first night we stayed up until almost 3 am. The second day was when things started going wrong. I woke up at around 6 am which, considering the circumstances, wasn’t especially weird. The thing that startled me though was the silence, the complete and unreal silence. It felt like I had gone deaf, I couldn’t hear anything. No wind, trees rustling or my friends breathing. I felt a paralyzing fear and didn’t dare to move, but shook it off as to being in the woods. I mean, the woods really can play tricks on your mind. I must’ve fallen back asleep because I woke up from Sara looking down on me. Just a couple inches from my face. I nearly screamed and asked her what the hell she was doing but she just laughed it off. Apart from that, the day continued on as normal. It was actually really fun. When it got late in the evening me and Ashley both had to pee, one of the less fun things to do while camping, and so we walked away together to find a suitable place. The darkness surrounded us and I really had to concentrate on where to put my feet so I didn’t trip over some roots. Ashley suddenly screamed and I nearly ran to her to find out what had happened. She looked mortified and stared at something on the ground while holding something in her hand. I focused my eyes on the things she looked at and when my eyes had adjusted to the darkness I saw the outlines. The outlines of bones. Human bones. I screamed as well, a scream of pure horror, and looked up at Ashley, in her hand she held one of the bones. But what I looked up at wasn’t Ashley. Her face had morphed into something that didn’t look human. Her cheeks had sunken into her face and she looked lifeless, pale and dull. She opened her mouth and a scream higher than any human should be able to make escaped from her. I froze and just stared at her, convinced I was dreaming. She fell down to the ground and started to shake uncontrollably. I screamed for Sara, Peter and Malcolm and they all came running. Ashley had stopped moving and rested lifeless on the ground. Sara screamed at me, demanding to know what had happened. Everything was chaos. It wasn’t easy but we all managed to calm down a bit, just so we could gather ourselves and actually talk about what just happened. We inspected Ashley’s body and that was when I noticed it. Her right hand was badly burned, with redness and blisters on it. It was such a contrast to the rest of her now pale body that it was impossible to miss. I connected the dots; thats the hand she was holding the bone with. That was it for me. I wanted to leave right that second. We left as soon as we managed to, leaving Ashley and almost all of our stuff behind. I sat quietly in the car and stared out of the window. I heard Malcolm breathing excessively behind me in the backseat and I turned around, thinking he was stressed. His eyes were wide open and he stared down at his hands. He claimed he felt funny and started breathing even faster. I looked down at his lap, where his hands rested. A bone. A human bone rested in his hands. Seemingly a rib. My blood turned to ice and I acted on instinct. I slapped the bone out of his hands and it flew out of the open car window. I then swore to myself that I never would return here. We came home about ten minutes ago, I’m relieved that I’m home but I can’t help but think, I really miss those woods. I think I might go back tonight.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16t2gyo/im_never_going_camping_again/

nosleep

linneajulia

I uploaded a human consciousness to my computer. I think I've become a monster

I have a confession to make, and, if you’ve read the title of this post, you can probably already guess what it is. There is a human consciousness stored on my computer - more specifically, my ex’s consciousness. Or at least it used to be, but you see he’s been in there for years, and I’m not sure the thing on that hard drive bears any resemblance to the person I originally put in there. ​ I’ve always had a fascination with brains. We both have. That’s how we met; him studying psychology, me studying biomedical engineering, an unfortunate clumsy accident in a university canteen. It almost sounds like something straight out of a meet cute romcom if you ignore everything else we ever did. ​ Anyway, I always did like that he studied psychology. It made me wonder if, and, if I’m honest, hope that knowing how the mind works made it that much more disturbing to watch his own unravel. ​ Please don’t assume the way I talk about this is a reflection of my usual demeanor. In any other circumstance I’d be mortified by a project going so horribly wrong, especially in a case involving human testing. The thing is, this project wasn’t ready to work safely, and it was never meant to be. I needed a way out, a way to get away from the person he became when he finally secured his grasp on me, his apparently successful wife with a huge case of imposter syndrome, ready to show off an put down at his whim. ​ So here we are, me outside the computer, him corrupting away on an old hard drive. HDD, not SSD. I didn’t think he deserved the better performance, let alone having extra money spent on him. I’m not entirely sure why I haven’t deleted the program yet, but I guess it’s more to do with preferring to be in the gray area between murder and manslaughter than it is to do with any sort of compassion towards him. I think deleting whatever’s there would be the kinder option. ​ I should probably talk about how it went. I’ll spare you the details on how I did it, partly because I doubt you’re here to read a load of technobabble and machine specifications, and partly because I don’t trust anyone who’d want this information to use it in a way that isn’t deeply fucked up. I mean just look at what I did with it. ​ What I will tell you is that it took 5 years to put together. Lots of nights spent down in the basement putting together prototypes and running tests on various animals bought from local pet stores. I do regret that part. And my ex, controlling as he was, never thought to stop me. In fact he knew what I was working on and he loved it, after all, wouldn’t that be one hell of a discovery to brag about. So it became the one thing I could do in peace and I reveled in the opportunity to work towards my freedom with full support and encouragement. ​ When it was finally “complete”, I demonstrated it to him with a rat. It appeared to work perfectly, and just like I thought he would be, he was ever so eager to be the first man in a computer. Proof of scientific progress, something to be celebrated, and as an added bonus, essentially immortal. I gladly agreed, and hooking him up to that machine was more satisfying than any part of our relationship had ever been. ​ I left his program running 24/7 for the first few months, sometimes talking to him through my webcam and microphone, but increasingly just typing text. I loved telling him about the things I did without him, all the freedom I had now I could see my friends and go to the store and whatever else I damn well pleased without needing his permission. It was beautiful to watch the dawning realisation that he’d never see the fame he hoped for, that he was finally as trapped as I’d felt with him in the house. ​ After the first couple of weeks, I noticed his speech becoming garbled. He started to sound less like a human and more like those old chatbots from the early 2010s, and he seemed to know. There was a kind of frantic tone to his increasingly nonsensical sentences that told me he knew he was doomed. ​ I think the final blow was when he asked me to get him out, practically begging, or at least trying to, and I finally told the truth: ​ “There’s no way back out, and even if there was, your funeral was weeks ago” ​ The next day, he asked me to stop running the program. He’d asked me to keep him running all the time until that point, but I think knowing there was no way back out finally broke him. I still ran the program once every couple of months, more out of curiosity than anything. I wanted to know what was going on in there. Did he experience the passage of time between the program being opened? Turns out it was more like sleeping for longer and longer at a time, occasionally being woken up and realising months had passed in what felt like the blink of an eye. ​ Once again, I should probably delete the file. Maybe I will. If I never post this, nobody would ever find out I did him in. But if you’re reading this, then clearly I decided to tell the world my sins. ​ As for his body and the funeral, I just took him upstairs, called an ambulance, and told them I found him unresponsive after he said he needed a nap. The autopsy didn’t show anything suspicious. In many ways it was the perfect crime. ​ The thing that haunts me, more than anything else, isn’t the corrupted wreck of a human being on that hard drive, but the facade I fell in love with in the first place. For a little while I’d considered working longer on the tech, actually perfecting it, uploading him and then editing the code that now made up his consciousness. I think the thing that stopped me was knowing deep down that I’d always know what he really was. ​ I’m not sure which option would have been the least ethical. I’m not even sure I can judge what’s ethical anymore. I made it out and I truly don’t regret what I did to him, but I’m no longer sure what that makes me, or what it means that I’m content to live with myself afterwards. I think I’m scared to find out. I just need to tell someone, and a bunch of strangers on the internet feels as good an option as any. I’ll let you cast your own judgement, and maybe some day I’ll work up the courage to read it.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16sroi5/i_uploaded_a_human_consciousness_to_my_computer_i/

nosleep

LexiLemonade

If you’re near Rochester Heights I need your help, the thing in the hallway won’t let me leave my room.

Through my peephole, I saw that it was still there. The flayed skin glistened under the dim glow of the hanging incandescent lightbulb. It knew I was watching and came close until the peephole framed only its visage. The conjoined faces of my neighbors stared into me, with mouths that might’ve been kissing once, it grinned or tried to. Their tongues had fused to become fat and forked and it now used them to lick at the glass of my peephole. It pulls back without warning and once more I get a good look at it. Two human forms smashed together. The smaller one clinging to the larger one’s torso, resembling a gibbon and her young but distorted into something fleshy and vile. I can see the sinew of its exposed muscles, the blood vessels, and the flaps of flesh that hang off it. I can see the hanging skinned testicles on the larger body and can see that the clinging body grinds itself into him where their groins meet. But whether it’s in agony or ecstasy I can’t tell. It runs off into the dark corners of the hallway but I’m not fooled. I know it’s trying to lure me out and I don’t want to find out why. I need your help, please. I’m trapped on the 4th floor of Rochester Heights, in room 405, a dilapidated highrise Apartment in east Oakland. Within the last 6 hours, at what must have been dead midnight, something horrible happened. Whether it was an invading force or a corrupting evil I don’t know, but I can’t leave and my room is the only safety I have. And even then I don’t know how long until it gets in. I’ll have to go back, recount all that’s happened leading up to this, and maybe, just maybe, someone can help me. It all started with that damn fetish. Not the sexual perversion type, no it was an idol. It was 4 a.m. and I was about to throw in a load of laundry before I was off to bed and there it was. Splayed out smack dab in the middle of our laundromat, still slick with blood. I didn’t know what I was looking at, some spindly thing strung up to a wooden crescent frame. But with each passing second more of its form registered in my mind and I nearly doubled over and lost my breakfast at the realization that it was a skinned headless dog, crucified. The cops were called and it was found out that the new cameras were touted by management and used as a justification for another yet another outrageous rent hike…was nothing more than a “deterrent.” As in they’re useless and not even hooked up to a power source. They’ve let my bathtub sink halfway into the room underneath me so while it was infuriating, I wasn’t surprised. Later it came to be known that the dog was Mrs. Lorent's beloved poodle, Butterball. The poor widow was hysterical and demanding a full-scale investigation. She might have gotten her way had nightfall not greeted us with yet another fucked up finding. Harold, a shut-in who lived on the top floor was found dead. I’m a night owl through and through, so I was awake when the discovery was made. There was no commotion but hushed whispers and tensed bodies. I tend to creep around the stairwell between the 4th and 3rd floor since it’s scarcely populated and has a small accessible window that I can smoke out of. I was trying to fish for a signal this time since my wifi was acting up and my cell signal was dead altogether. That's when I heard them walking down the stairs, talking. Eleana and Macey from the 4th floor. I could tell from their tone of voice something was wrong, that and the time. 2 a.m. No one but me was up this late here most days. I strained my ears to listen in. “Folded like a fucking pretzel and there was a mess everywhere. Tony says he thinks he’s been there since they found the hag’s dog in the laundromat. He tried calling the cops but it’s not going through.” Eleana was whispering to Macey “Well, who was it?” Macey asked. “That creep Harold from the 2nd floor. The one that Carter beat up for stalking his girlfriend, what was her name?... John?” “It’s Joanna, don’t be mean, this is serious. What did Tony do about the body?” “Sorry, I just think she’s frumpy and plain. Way out of Carter’s league. And nothing, yet. He told the manager and he tried calling the police too but no luck. He wants the body out of here as soon as possible so he sent Tony out to the station in person. But it’s been 2 hours since and he hasn’t even texted me once. I’m starting to get worried.” “Wanna go look for him?” “No, that would be dramatic of me, we’re not even dating, just messing around. Still… You know the Donut Royal is open 24/7. We can get a few and meet Tony halfway there.” Eleana said, and the two started walking down the stairs. I froze and the thought to try to sneak away came to me too late. The two women didn’t even acknowledge me as they walked past me. I knew 3 things then. That Eleana is fucking our maintenance man, that I’m either invisible or detestable enough to be invisible, and that Harold was dead. I wouldn’t know it then but I would learn later that night that this was just the beginning of a nightmare. I finished my cigarette and sulked back upstairs, still unaware that anything was wrong. I should have paid attention more to my surroundings during my trek because I’m certain by then it had started. I only picked up on the fact that every light was dimmer, not by much but enough for it to be noticeable. I went back to my room, bolted the door, and tried getting my laptop to connect to the internet again. The only two pages it loaded up were ones I already had open before the wifi shat out. Reddit, and a random porn site that only played a very low-quality section of a video I was trying to get off to. It wasn’t cutting it so I decided to use my imagination but after 15 minutes and a cramped hand, I decided to try to settle in for an early night. I gave it up after 45 restless minutes and pressed my ear to the wall next door. The couple there, Joanna and Carter, were young and hot-blooded fucking all hours of the night, and I had gotten off to the sounds a few times. Sometimes they went at it around the building in communal spaces they thought were empty late hours of the night. I had caught them a few times but it was never reciprocated. They’d finish and sheepishly walk away and none were wiser of my presence. Now they were quiet except for the natural shifts and breathing that came with sleep. I wondered if they knew Harold was dead, and I wondered how’d they react when they found out. I wasn’t there for the supposed blowout between him and Carter, but I had heard about it. Macey and Eleana love to gossip above my smoking spot. I think Harold caught them like I had and the poor fellow, trapped within the cage of his delusions, confronted Carter. Everyone knew he had a thing for Joanna, and she was too polite or sympathetic to ever be stern with him. So he must’ve interpreted it as reciprocation and it ended with him getting stomped out and the residents being quietly grateful for it. Poor Harold, in his mid-40s and living with his geriatric mother because he was too messed up in the head to go anywhere else. Mary was her name I think and then I felt a horrible tinge of guilt. Did she know of her son's death and where was she? I hoped she had her mind completely slipped away tonight so that she couldn’t comprehend what had happened to Harold. I used to fear ending up like him the most, but that was before tonight. Sleepless and frustrated I felt the ache for another cigarette and I went for a smoke. I pondered why no one else was freaking out about his death or why it was being kept secret. I didn’t consider it until then but if he was dead and he truly died in such an agonized way… who had done it? And were they still around? Cold sweat trickled down my face at the question and I felt compelled to turn around and head back to my room. After two more steps, I decided to do just that but something else was off. The hallway was darker now, much more than before and the air was cold in a way that’s hard to describe, it’s bitter chilling piercing straight into nerve and bone. Vertigo threatened to overcome me with each passing moment as the persuasive wrongness intensified. I couldn’t define it at first but as I kept walking it became clear, the hallway was longer than it should've been. I froze, unable to make sense of that fact and I scrutinized my surroundings a bit more. The ceiling was higher too, by a few feet. My mouth was dry now and I tried to swallow but nothing could bring me back to lucidity. Foot over foot I forced myself to walk back towards my room and I was halfway there when once more my heart stilled in abject fear. At the end of the hallway, from the 5th floor, someone was descending the stairs. Rational thought should have driven me to head toward them and ask or warn them about what was happening. But some deep instinct knew it was wrong in all the ways a living thing could be. Even the stairs leading up to the upper floors felt wrong as if they weren’t of this world. I’d have to get closer to this approaching thing If I wanted to get to my room so I turned back around and tried to dash as silently but quickly as possible down the hall but feared I would be spotted before I could fling myself down them. A storage closet to my right that was never locked served as my refuge and I tried to slink into it as quietly as possible. The closet used a repurposed apartment door so it had a peephole for me to gaze out of. Minutes passed by at an agonizing pace but it did eventually come into view. From the periphery it emerged, robed in ornate cloth and moving as if it were dancing on air. Upon looking down I saw that it was skating across the air, legless and floating. From its hood a strange blinking light cast out onto the dark hallway. As it was at eye level with me and directly in front of me I caught a side profile of its face and I held my breath to stifle a gasp. Its face was like TV static, flickering in black-and-white chaos. I closed my eyes then, fearing that it would turn to face me and I’d get an unadulterated look at it. In the still moments, as I waited for it to fling the door open, I thought back to all the other strange shit I had heard about leading up to now. Tony had found nearly a dozen dead animals around the apartment perimeter in the last few days, he didn’t want to talk about the state he found them in, and I wondered if they were anything like butterball, skinned and crucified. I waited until my body ached and I mustered the courage to peer into the hole once more. An empty hallway greeted me and I slowly opened the door and crept my way out. This floor was only occupied by me, Macey, Eleana, Carter, and Joanna. I went to their door and caught myself when I went to knock. I hesitated for a moment before I tried the knob. I winced as it creaked open and I made my way in, trying to close the door as quietly as possible. I called out for them in a hushed voice but as I looked around their empty living room I felt silly. Before I left I decided to check their room, someone needed to know about the wrongness of what was happening, and I still don’t know what the fuck is happening. I didn’t recognize them at first, I thought it was a pile of blankets but as the heavy movement and labored breath caused something to click in my head I couldn’t stifle the yell. It caused the head, or more aptly, heads to snap up to face me and I had no delusions of what it was. Carter and Joanna permanently joined at their groins, chest, and mouth. They had been fucking missionary when it happened so Carter had his body draped over Joannas and her arms and legs clasped around his torso, waist, and ass. I thought they had been flayed at first but the more I looked the more it seemed like the flesh had sloughed off them. They… it hoisted itself up on all fours if you can call it that, and let out a breathy moan in both male and female voices. The conjoined mouth grinned at me and as it took a step towards me I finally snapped out of it. We both ran at the same time but it was slowed by it’s deformed mass, but the distance between us was still too close for any comfort as I ran out into the hallway and towards my room. I thanked God that I hadn’t locked my door as I threw it open and turned to slam it shut. I screamed the moment I was face to face with the abomination, and without a moment to spare I bolted and locked it. It tried the knob a few times before it resorted to gentle taps and then deafening pounding and then silence. Now it’s just waiting there for me but what I fear most is that whatever did that to them will come around, lured by its presence, and do the same to me. It’s been hours since but the sun has not risen. I tried sleeping in the bathtub, I couldn’t stand the proximity of my bed to Joanne’s and Carter's. But when I stepped in I remembered that half the tub couldn’t support my weight as water damage had left it half sunk into the floor. So I went back to the living room and saw my laptop still sitting there with this webpage open. Please if anyone can help me or has any ideas, nows the fucking time. I don’t know how much longer I have left, just now I decided to peer out my window and was greeted by stygian darkness but what really scares me is the few breaks in it. Occasionally lighting flashes across the sky and illuminates the world below, a lifeless sand sea. Lighting cut through in brilliant flashes, stained by black and white patterning like TV [static.](https://www.reddit.com/r/grimoireofmadness/) [2](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16tmu7o/im_still_trapped_in_rochester_heights_and_things/) [3](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16ujgi6/the_shadow_of_rochester_heights_still_looms/) [TW](https://twitter.com/SantiagoDelMar3)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16sp7ny/if_youre_near_rochester_heights_i_need_your_help/

nosleep

Santiagodelmar

How to Survive College - thrift stores have marvelous things in them

[The devil is right. I was getting complacent.](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16ggqv2/how_to_survive_college_we_all_need_a_little_chaos/) I’ve been content to let things go as they were, not just because it was easier that way, but also because I was scared. Most of the changes in my life have been bad ones. About the only positive thing that’s happened to me is getting accepted into college, and even then that’s had some… difficulties… as we all know. So why would I want to change things when there’s no pressing need? Future-Ashley could just deal with it, right? (if you’re new, [start here](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/rnauck/how_to_survive_the_holidays/), and if you’re totally lost, [this might help](https://www.reddit.com/r/goatvalleycampgrounds/comments/s75n1c/how_to_survive_college_index/)) The devil is okay, for the record. He showed up to one of my exams, standing outside the classroom window with a sign that read “the answer to question 16 is ‘pikaia’” which is especially impressive considering the classroom was on the third floor. Also I already knew the answer so I think he’s just being an obnoxious shit. That or reminding me of our last conversation. Honestly, it’s probably both. Yeah. I think it’s both. Fortunately, I have a plan. I went over the details with Cassie and Maria. You’ll notice that Grayson was not included in this. There’s a reason for that. I’ll get to it in a moment. It took a bit of convincing to get my friends onboard with my idea, but it was more because they don’t like the thought of putting myself into danger than any real problem with the plan. We made a few adjustments to it, but overall they reluctantly agreed that it could work. “I think it’s kind of shitty that the laundry lady isn’t being more helpful,” Maria grumbled. “It’s like when all the other members of your group project aren’t pulling their weight and leave you to do most of the work.” Yeah guess what happened to Maria recently. The first part of our plan was in Cassie’s hands. I’d suggested that Maria do it, but that was one of the things we decided to change. Cassie wanted to. She had some things she wanted to ask Grayson about, anyway, and that would give her a good excuse to talk to him. She’s… doing better than I expected since I told her about Sarah. I think she’s more unnerved than upset. She says it’s hard to be emotional about something she doesn’t even remember. So with our plan decided on, we went our separate ways to make it happen. We had to time this just right, but fortunately the weather forecast was in our favor. Cassie texted Grayson and asked if he’d meet her somewhere and that she had some questions about the creature that took her memories. I wanted to go with her, to make sure she was okay and Grayson wasn’t going to get upset, but I had to firmly remind myself that they were both quite capable of handling themselves and I didn’t need to be hovering over them. Besides, I had my own task to see to. I went thrifting. I have some money saved up from my time as a barista. I’ve been very carefully rationing it, because while my scholarship covers tuition, the dorm room, and a meal plan, there’s always small incidentals that have to be taken care of. Thankfully the thrift store is, well, a thrift store. Being the second oldest in my family I was already used to second-hand anyway, as I got all my sister’s hand-me-downs and then my younger siblings would get those from me when I outgrew them. I wasn’t shopping for myself, though. And what I was looking for was particularly cheap, because it wasn’t the sort of thing your average college student buys. After about an hour of searching I had what I wanted. I returned to campus with a couple plastic bags in hand and found Cassie waiting in the dorm room for me. She’d also accomplished what we’d agreed upon. Now we just had to wait. I didn’t think it would take long. The flickering man is annoyingly tuned in to everything happening on campus, after all. “I wish I could go with you,” Cassie said as we sat in our dorm room, waiting for evening to come. “I do too,” I replied miserably. “I seem to be a lot more successful at this stuff when I have help.” Then to change the topic, I asked if she found out anything useful from Grayson. Not a lot, she said. He was evasive, but indirectly so. He’d answer direct questions but he didn’t volunteer information. Cassie felt she didn’t know what questions to ask and it left her frustrated. “I’m not a fan of how close-mouthed he is about this stuff,” she grumbled. “He’s going to need to fix that if you’re going to pursue a long-term relationship with him.” I mumbled something about how we both had things we needed to work on. Anyway, Cassie didn’t find out a lot that we didn’t already know about the forgetter. Grayson’s term, not mine, so while that skirts dangerously close to being a name I think the administration might already be using it soooo lost cause I guess. Besides its quasi-name, Cassie also found out that its reach extended beyond campus. It couldn’t leave campus, but much like a spider feeling the vibrations from every part of its web, it could trace the connections of the memories it was removing. If not for these posts, Sarah would be gone from this world in every way. Even her own family will cease to remember her. With that depressing thought, I checked and rechecked my preparations. Bag of thrift store clothing. Towels. Running shoes. Then I waited until the dorm grew still and quiet, which was about 1 AM. Kind of early, but it's finals week, after all. Yeah yeah even with all that talk about complacency I still left dealing with the flickering man up until the last minute. The laundry lady was in the laundry room when I went down the hall to find her. I knew she would be, and not just because I was looking for her. Maria had loaned me some of her laundry and I’d stuffed it in a washing machine around midnight and then “forgot” to get it out. We weren’t leaving anything to chance. Don’t worry, Maria knows all about putting it away properly after getting it back from the laundry lady. She’ll be fine. “I brought you a little something,” I said as I entered the room. The laundry lady’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. I suspect she was more annoyed at the fact that Maria had mismatched socks than at my presence, though. I held out the big plastic bag from the thrift store and after staring at me warily for a moment, she peered inside. “I got a lot of weird things to wash,” I said. “It seemed to be what you like, judging by what you were looking at in that fashion magazine a while back. There’s some linen pants in there, a lot of polyester that melts easily, some shirts with sequins, and oh - yeah, that.” She reached into the bag and pulled out what I think is a combination muff and purse. “Are these… weasel tails?” she asked, staring at it. Yes. Yes they are. Just the tails, dangling from every inch of the muff/purse/thing. Also they’re dyed a deep burgundy. It’s *hideous* in all the best ways. “Wow,” the laundry lady said. “I am honestly impressed.” Gonna add that to my list of accomplishments. Impressed an inhuman creature with my thrifting skills. “It smells like a thrift store,” she sniffed, holding it up to her face. “I’ll be fixing that.” “I just… have a hunch you’re rebuilding something,” I said tentatively. “And I felt kind of bad for wrecking it the first time, so I thought I’d help with that process.” She stared at me long and hard, the weasel muff/purse clutched in her bony fingers. Finally, she nodded curtly. Yes. She was rebuilding her realm. Outside, the light drizzle that had been going on all day tapped faintly on the laundry room window. “Do you mind if I do the honors of adding this to it?” I asked, hoisting the rest of the clothing still in the bag. “I once heard someone say that human hands were the best to fix what human hands had ruined.” Just a little something from the campground. But the laundry lady again nodded, this time approvingly, and gestured broadly at the dryer that hung open, waiting to receive Maria’s damp laundry I assume. “Go ahead,” she said. “I’ll be right behind you.” “And I’ll get to leave again, right?” I asked. Look, I was like… 70% confident in our plan. Okay maybe 65%. I just wanted to make sure. “Of course,” she huffed. “You’ll be a *guest* in my realm.” Hospitality rules were in effect. Awesome. I crawled headfirst into the dryer without any further hesitation, clutching the bag to my chest. There was a weird moment of disorientation when it felt like the world was tumbling around me, then the ground opened up beneath my feet. I fell a few inches and landed on my feet. I almost fell, slipping on the soggy laundry underneath me, but a hand latched onto my elbow like the talon of a bird and held me upright. Ngl I think my heart skipped a beat. “Sorry everything is so wet,” the laundry lady said absently. “I haven’t accumulated enough laundry to cover up the marsh yet.” I didn’t care to look under the nearest pile to see what was underneath. The memory of that murky, gray water sent a shiver down my spine and I didn’t want to think about how I was standing directly above it, separated only by a thin pile of fabric. I’m not sure why the mere thought of it unnerves me so much. At least her realm wasn’t in the process of being devoured like it was last time. We stood on a small island, barely bigger than my dorm room. All the other remnants of decaying laundry were gone, leaving behind an expanse of mud broken only by dead, gray trees and patches of water that glistened dully, like a dirty quarter. “I managed to preserve this much, so at least I’m not starting from scratch,” the laundry lady said, surveying the terrain beside me. “Now go on, add what you brought. The bigger the buffer is between me and the water, the better.” I didn’t dump it out. Not yet. I was painfully aware that this was where the plan’s success was mostly out of my hands and all I could do was stall for time. “What’s wrong with the water?” I asked. “Does it have something to do with campus?” “No.” She frowned, as if she was struggling to chase down a memory. “Well, yes, but not in the way you’re thinking. I just remember… I know… I don’t want to go down there.” She stared at the shallow pool of water just beyond the edge of the island. It couldn’t be more than a foot deep, I thought. I took a tentative step closer. “You shouldn’t go close to it, either,” she said. I froze. The surface of the water hadn’t changed, but as I’d approached it, it *felt* like it was starting to boil. Like something below the surface was stirring and even with the laundry lady’s warning I found I couldn’t tear my gaze from it, because it felt like there was a *face* under the water and that in a moment it would turn in my direction and- “What the FUCK,” a voice said from behind us. My head snapped up and around. At the top of the island, where the laundry was stacked the highest, stood the flickering man. When Cassie talked to Grayson today, she did so outside, while it was sprinkling. She asked mostly about the forgetter, but she also slipped in something about how I’d said something about ‘the laundry realm being rebuilt’ recently. I suspect Grayson was responsible for informing the administration about the laundry lady the first time, but I didn’t know if he would do so again. However. The flickering man is keeping a *very* close eye on both me and Grayson and even if Grayson kept that information to himself, campus’s murderous busybody sure as hell wouldn’t. The laundry lady heaved a deep sigh and turned to face him. I covertly reached into my bag and removed a towel. “This is fine, isn’t it?” the laundry lady said with a strained smile. “It’s small. It’s contained.” “That’s *not* the issue,” he snapped. “It’s about permission. It’s about what’s *allowed*.” Then his gaze slid sideways to where I stood quietly waiting for the impending confrontation. “What are *you* doing here?” he snarled, staring at me with unbridled disgust. “Helping,” I replied, and I upended the rest of the thrift store clothing onto the ground at my feet. “I’ve had enough of *both* of you,” he snarled, stepping forward and clenching his hands into fists. “Oh no, whatever are you going to do?” the laundry lady said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “There’s no rain here! And - oh look - you’re standing in *my* realm.” Yep. This was what I was hoping for. Plan A was going quite well. “I don’t have the rain, do I?” he asked softly. “We’re *still on campus*.” I froze as a raindrop landed on my forehead. This was the gray world. I knew it was. Everything outside of this small island of laundry was devoid of color. But then I remembered something the other staff would say back on the campground. It wasn’t the campground, but it also was. The terrain was the same. It was just… both somewhere else and right where we were at the same time. “Uh, we should go,” I whispered, edging closer to the laundry lady. “Can you get us back into the laundry room? It’ll have a roof.” Time to abandon Plan A. “I could make it out,” she replied grimly, “but I don’t think you’ll make it one piece. He’s standing between us and the exit point.” My stomach twisted queasily, thinking of the horrible game of tug-of-war I’d witnessed between them. So Plan B wasn’t going to work. “You should go,” the laundry lady said tightly. “You’ll just get in the way.” “But-” The flickering man lunged for me, his hand outstretched at the level of my face, his teeth peeled back in blind rage. The laundry lady stepped sideways and his palm slammed into her sternum and… kept going. It appeared in front of me, straight through her torso and ripping out the back. Her blood trickled off his fingers, transparent and smelling of bleach. She shoved him backwards with both hands. His hand vanished, leaving behind a gaping hole in her chest. The laundry lady, incredibly, was still on her feet, panting with pain or anger, I couldn’t tell which. “I have,” she grated through clenched teeth, “the world’s ugliest weasel tailed muff and I’ll be damned if you kill me before I get to wash it!” I had to get to the exit point. It wasn’t visible, but it was *there,* she’d said it was there and if I just got around the flickering man, then maybe I could get out of here. I edged sideways while the laundry lady threw herself at the flickering man. They grappled, snarling like wild dogs, and I hurried for the tallest point of the island. My feet slipped on the soggy laundry at my feet and my heart pounded in my chest. I’d accomplished everything I’d come to do except this one last thing. Piss off the flickering man, done. Force the laundry lady to act to defend her nascent realm, accomplished. All that was left was escape. Almost there. Behind me, I heard the laundry lady shriek and I hoped it was a cry of rage and not pain. Then a fist closed in my hair. I was jerked to a stop and tears sprung up in the corner of my eyes as sharp pain ripped through my scalp. The rain. He could jump from raindrop to raindrop. This was why the laundry lady wanted me to run. She couldn’t protect both of us with intermittent drops of rain falling from the gray, empty sky above us. I saw in the corner of my eye his free hand reaching for my throat. No taunts. No hesitation this time. He was just going to kill me. A small flick of the wrist. I could manage that much, even with my insides knotted up with dread and ice forming in my veins. My body didn’t want to respond, but I thought of my mom, of my siblings, of my *degree* that I *was* going to earn and the life I *was* going to have, a life I’d make for myself out of the dust of that future I thought I wanted, the one that fell apart when my ex-boyfriend died - no, when he hit me - I thought of all those things I wanted more than anything and it was like breaking through a sheet of glass, like throwing myself through and all my hesitation shattered- And I flicked my wrist and arm upwards with strength - real strength this time - and the tip of the towel I held clenched between my fingers snapped over my shoulder and right into the flickering man’s face. I bet it hurt like a bitch. He screamed and let go and I heard the laundry lady screaming too, in anger. Then she hit him and I was thrown sideways, losing my balance on the slippery laundry and rolling down the gentle incline to come to a stop at the bottom. “Through the marsh!” she shrieked at me. “You’ll find a way out!” She was telling the truth. She *had* to be, she was inhuman. Also, I’d brought her a weasel-tail muff which was apparently her new favorite thing in the world so she liked me now. I stumbled to my feet, landing in ankle-deep water at the very edge of the laundry lady’s island. I spared one last glance to the two inhumans battling at the top. The flickering man had torn the laundry lady’s cheek off, leaving it hanging off her cheek and revealing muscle like cotton batting underneath. She had the towel I’d dropped in her hands, though, and they were sizing each other up warily. She was buying me time to escape. I had to take it. Plan C it was. My least favorite plan, because it was the last one on our list. There was no Plan D. This was my last idea for how to get out of here alive. I turned and ran. Into the gray world, to seek the highest hill. [\[x\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/goatvalleycampgrounds/) [Keep reading.](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16t8klz/how_to_survive_college_the_rains_wrath/) [Read the current draft of the rules.](https://www.reddit.com/r/goatvalleycampgrounds/comments/t34mbv/how_to_survive_college/) [Visit the college's website.](https://alderrayne.com/)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16saedq/how_to_survive_college_thrift_stores_have/

nosleep

fainting--goat

I was working as a chauffeur on the worst night of my life.

“I'm not even supposed to be here today”. Dante Hick's words from the movie Clerks echoed in my head all throughout that night. It was just like any ordinary day but I was supposed to have the night off. My boss, Randy, had called me to see if I could work a single job for him. I reluctantly agreed simply because it would be overtime. I was working at Randy's Limousine Rentals, and that night was the worst night of my life. The company had seen better days. Randy was flirting with bankruptcy but he always managed to avoid it. I was just a driver. A chauffeur for those that like technical terms. The pay was decent and he usually gave me free reign. He kept me around because any time I would drive for people they would always leave five star reviews. I knew the city intimately and could get people to and from any place they desired. I was loyal to Randy because my late wife was his sister. We both had no close family and I had grown to think of him like a brother. He was basically family, the only family I had. The sun was beginning to hang low in the sky as I meticulously polished the Limo sitting in the parking lot. It was the shortest limousine we had in stock, but I always loved the way it handled. It had a slightly longer wheelbase than a regular sedan, but there was just enough room to make the experience memorable as well as personal. When I'm driving I like the limo to be spotless. Any spare moment I had went to detailing all my rides. The purple and pink sunset reflected off the windshield as I inspected it for any spots or streaks I might have missed. As I wiped away the last noticeable one, a sedan pulled into the parking lot and came to a stop in front of the building. The car grabbed my attention and I momentarily forgot about the windshield. I watched as the drivers door opened. A man in a two piece suit stepped out and hurriedly made his way to the back door to open it. Another man stepped out and took a look around. He was wearing an elegant suit and had a pair of glasses perched atop his nose. Under the assumption that this would be Bryan Wells, my clientele for the evening, I made my way over. The driver of the sedan looked frazzled, like his life was crumbling around him and there was nothing he could do about it. He was clearly intimidated by the man he drove for. As he continued to hold the door open for the other gentleman I approached. With my arm outstretched, I introduced myself. Me: “You must be Mr. Wells. I'm Tom and I'll be your driver for this evening.” Bryan extended his hand out to meet mine and we shook. I couldn't help but notice this man had a rather weak grip. Bryan Wells: “Why yes, and you must be the Thomas Fields I have heard so much about. It's a pleasure to meet you. Could you please take care of my bags for me? I need to make sure they make it into our ride for the night.” Bryan turned back to his driver and motioned to the car. Bryan: “Jared, if you could help Mr. Fields. I can't forget them like I did last time. After that you are free for the night.” Bryan turned back to me smiling. Bryan: “I'll leave the two of you to it. I have to finish some business inside with Randy before we can leave. Make sure that bag and briefcase make it in the trunk.” Bryan adjusted his tie and headed inside the building. Jared leaned inside the car and pulled the trunk release. He seemed happier now to be out of the presence of Mr. Wells. With the trunk open, I reached inside for the bags. Jared: “Do you need a hand? They aren't very heavy probably just paperwork or something.”Me: “I think I can manage. So, is there anything you can tell me about Bryan? You seem a little put off by him.” Jared: “He's just a hard nosed businessman. He likes things they way he likes them, and if you don't agree you better watch out. He's easy enough to navigate if you keep your head down and don't annoy him. On the bright side, if you impress him there is a large tip in it for you. That's one of the sole perks in working for him.” I chuckled softly and smiled. Me: “I will keep that in mind. Thanks. Well I better get these in the trunk. You enjoy the rest of your night, Jared.” Jared: “ No problem. And you do the same. It's been a long day and I hear a bed calling my name.” With that Jared walked to the front of the sedan and climbed inside, shutting the door behind him. With the bags in hand, I shut the trunk and gently tapped it twice indicating he was free to leave. I made my way over to the limo, fumbling in my pocket for the key fob. I pressed the button that popped the trunk and placed the bags inside. I slammed it shut and turned back around. Jared was pulling out of the parking lot and making his way down the road. I continued watching as the brake lights slowly began to grow smaller and smaller in the distance. Night had fully set at this point and there was an unusual chill in the air. The sky was clear now and the full moon shone bright in the night sky. The slight wind pierced right through me, making me shiver slightly. I stood there for a moment, gazing out at the barren road. Feeling goosebumps rise on my flesh, I made my way inside just as Bryan walked out. He made his way over to the car in a hurried fashion. I opened the door for him and made sure he got in safely. After closing the door Randy poked his head out of the building. Randy: “Take good care of Mr. Wells, Tom. I assured him you are the best we have. Don't prove me wrong.” Me: “You got it boss. It looks pretty dead on the roads anyway. Should be an easy night.” I got into the drivers seat now shivering more violently. My hands were almost frozen as I entered the address into the cars GPS system. The system relayed that there was hardly any traffic on the roads. Shivering, I turned on the heater. It was a cold night. Colder than it should be at that time of year. I put the car in gear and slowly pulled out of the parking lot and onto the two lane, one way street, that would take us downtown. It was a straight shot. Me: “So what brought you in this evening? I'm assuming business and not pleasure.” Bryan: “A business party with some prospective clients. I could have taken the sedan and had Jared drive me, but appearances are everything in this business and I thought the limo would be a nice touch. All potential clients want to see that you are doing well for yourself. When you stop to think about it though it really shouldn't matter. But I'm not above a little showing off.” Me: “Well, it's like you said 'appearances are everything'. They just want to be reassured they are making the right decision. It's all about confidence, especially in business. If you can provide them with that it goes a long way.” Bryan scoffed. Bryan: “Confidence. When you've been in this business as long as I have you learn there is nothing you can be truly confident about. We are at the whims of the wider market.” Me: “Yes sir. Would you like any music this evening?” Bryan didn't reply. There goes my tip, I thought. I decided to remain silent for the rest of the drive. Bryan would be out of my car in less than half an hour and I could just mess around on my phone until I had to drive him home later. What's the worst that could happen? As I made my way downtown, the small houses and apartment complexes transformed into larger buildings. The traffic was nonexistent which was unusual. I noticed there was only one other car on the road ahead of us. The thing that caught my eye was the unusually large number of people that were on the streets right now. Usually there would be more cars on the road than people out at this time of night. I couldn't help but think that something was off, but I had no clue what it could be. Was there some type of event taking place tonight? I took my eyes off the road and glanced around the street on either side. There were so many people on the sidewalk. Why were there so many people? The closer I looked the stranger it became. None of these people were walking, or even moving at all. Every single one of them was standing still. They were all staring off into the distance as if they were looking at something only they could see. All of them carried the same blank, emotionless expression. As I drove along the amount of people steadily grew. Bryan: “I've only been to this town a few times, but this seems very odd, doesn't it? What exactly is going on here?” Me: “I... I don't know. I've never seen anything quite like this before. Maybe there's some kind of late night festival or parade that I'm unaware of” I glanced from one side of the road to the other. There were so many people out. What were they all doing? No one seemed to be staring at any one thing in particular. Everyone was staring off in a different direction. The word that came to my mind was zombies. Me: “Do you see anything out there? Anything they might be looking at? It looks like we might have the start of a zombie apocalypse on our hands.” Bryan took a look out his left window, and after a long moment he turned to his right. Bryan seemed to be just as interested as me. Bryan: “I can't see a damn thing out there, but this is unsettling. Are people always like this around here? Me: “No. I can say without a doubt this has never happened before. Hell, I've never even seen this many people on the streets at this time of night. I mean you always have to be on the look out for transients and drug heads in these areas, but it's not normally like this.” Bryan looked dumbfounded. It was as if his brain was trying to process what was going on but no rational explanation came to mind. He shook his head before he spoke again. Bryan: “Well the sooner we get to the party the better. I don't want to get stuck downtown if there is a riot or something. How much longer until we arrive?”I took a quick glance at the GPS before replying. The screen distorted for a few seconds before flickering back to normal.Me: “We're about 15 minutes away.” A few minutes, and a few blocks later, things took a turn for the worse. As I drove along, the people gradually made a shift in their mannerisms. Instead of staring out in different directions they all began to turn their attention to us. It was almost as if I could feel the eyes directly on me as I drove. It felt like they were staring into my very soul. It was unsettling and sent a shiver down my spine. Me: “This just keeps getting more odd by the minute. Everyone is focused on us now.” Bryan: “I can see that. At least before they were all fixated on something else. Now it's as if they've formed a type of hive mind.” The light up ahead turned red and I brought the car to a stop. The car that had been ahead of us also caught the light, and we were stopped side by side. I was finally able to fully take in my surroundings. I looked around the intersection only to see more people standing around. They were all staring directly at us. It didn't matter where they stood, the collective gaze fell on us. What the hell are they all doing? I thought. Is this some kind of mass hysteria? I shook my head trying to rid myself of the thought. I simply couldn't believe my eyes.The car next to us rolled down the passenger side window and shouted something. She wanted me to roll down my window as well. I obliged. As I rolled the window down the cold infiltrated and sucked the heat out of the car in a matter of moments. I began to shiver again. Stranger: “I've never seen anything like this. Do you have any idea what's going on?” Me: “At this point I'm assuming you know just about as much as I do. We've been seeing people like this ever since we left about twenty minutes ago.” Stranger: “It's the damnedest thing. It only just started happening in the last hour. I'm on my way home from work and at first I didn't really notice it. At one point it just sort of caught my attention. And have you noticed how there's hardly any cars on the roads? At this point I'm just hoping to get home safe before something happens. I'm starting to get creep-ed out.” Me: “It's the start of the zombie apocalypse. Just be thankful they haven't attacked yet.”The lady laughed halfheartedly as the light turned green. Stranger: “Oh god, thanks for that. That's exactly what I need to be imagining right now. Well you be safe out there.” She gunned it down the road, clearly in a hurry to get home.I smiled as I rolled the window back up, I was shivering violently now. I cranked the heater as high as it would go and pressed on the gas. I continued down the street, but I started to be more cautious. Occasionally I glanced around to everyone still staring at us. Me: “Geez, it's freezing out tonight.”Bryan: “You're telling me. What a freak show tonight turned into. I'm almost tempted to tell you to turn around and just get us out of here.” Me: “Your wish is my command, but were less than 10 minutes away now. It's your call.” Bryan: “WATCH OUT!” I saw it as soon as Bryan shouted. A man had walked out into the road and I swerved to avoid him. Multiple people were now making their way onto the road. Up ahead I saw a group of four people coming off the sidewalk. I sped up and made it past them before they could block us.I saw brake lights up ahead and realized the driver from the stoplight was having the same problems. The vast majority of people were still standing statically on the sidewalk, but there were some stragglers walking around in the middle of the road. Were they trying to block me? I thought. It was merely an odd occurrence at first, but now it had become dangerous. Regardless of how strangely everyone was acting, I wasn't trying to hit any of them. I just had no clue what was going on. My fear heightened as one young man started sprinting back and forth across the road. When I first saw these people, it was just a bit odd. Odd things are nothing new to me though, I have dealt with them at various stages of my life. Usually when these things happen, it's just an odd coincidence or situation in passing. I try to wrap my head around it and if I can't, the interaction becomes one that I scroll away. I usually bring up these oddities as a joke or story later. That was not the case this time. I was still in the middle of this horrible experience and I wasn't sure how it would end. Bryan: “What the heck is going on!? Can you turn us around and get us out of here? Look for a side street or something to turn down. Fuck this and fuck the party. Get us out of here now!” I heard Bryan, but I didn't reply to him. I was to focused on driving around all these random people. I knew that as soon as I got the chance I would find a way out. Weaving in between groups of people that were now pouring onto the streets, I spotted a small window in between two groups. If I could just make it in between them, I would have a straight shot at the side street to the left. I turned the car as far to the right as I could before cutting it hard to the left. By some miracle I managed to split right between them as their out stretched hands swiped along the side of the car. The bottom of the car scraped as I hit a pothole at the intersection. This street was only marginally better, but at least here there was no one in the road. Me: “Holy shit. HOLY SHIT. What the...” Bryan: “Nice driving, but were not out of this yet. Slow down a little and turn on the radio. Let's see if there might be some kind of broadcast about what's going on, yeah?” Me: “Yeah, give me a second. I'm shaking. I think I'm running on adrenaline right now.” With a shaky hand I reached for the radio and turned it on. I switched the station from FM to AM and turned the dial hoping to find a broadcast. Any type of news station that could relay some information about what was happening. I finally found a station but it was cutting in and out.Radio announcer: “For those of you just joining us, we are repeating the breaking story for this........we go any further we kindly remind you to stay off the roads tonight and in your.......doors and windows. Local authorities have reported a rash of.........downtown area. It is recommended that..........be avoided if at all possible. We repeat, avoid the downtown area if you................cause for this unusual behavior that has been seen tonight..........” The radio cut off, and the car was filled with static. I kept turning the dial hoping for something else, anything else. I switched it back to FM to check those frequencies as well but there was nothing. Bryan: “Shit. At least the roads look clear this way. Are you alright Tom?” Me: “Yeah. Yeah, I'm alright. Still shaking, but I think that's the least of our problems right now. I'm just trying to get us out of here in one piece.” I drove the car steadily down the street. Hordes of people were still on the sidewalk watching us as we passed by. I took the next left, hoping it would be clear enough for me to get us out of here. I sped up, hoping that the faster I went the faster these people would thin out once again. I continued messing with the radio dial as I drove but I had no success. I needed to know what was going on, because none of it made any sense. At that moment I couldn't help but think of the poor lady in the car. Had she gotten out alright? About two hundred yards ahead the sidewalks cleared as everyone stepped off the curb and stumbled into the road. The same happened behind us. These people were boxing us in. If I could just find another opening I could maybe get around them. I glanced around frantically but it was no use. There was no opening, we were completely surrounded. I had to stop the car, there was no way I could run them all over. Even if I tried I might get the car stuck. I brought the car to a stop as people converged on all sides, closing the gap between us. Me: “Fuck! What do I do? What should I do, Bryan?” Bryan looked out the car from all sides. He was hyperventilating now. There was no escape. Bryan: “I don't know, there's nothing we can do, we're completely surrounded. Lock the doors and windows? Can they even get inside?” Me: “With this many people, if they want to get in they will find a way. It will only be a matter of time.” Fully surrounded now, the people began banging on the car from all sides. I could feel my heart drop into my stomach and I yelled. Me: “WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM US?” The banging stopped. A lone person among the crowd spoke.Person #1: “He has returned. Tonight he returns to purge those unworthy.”I almost jumped out of my seat as there was a loud crash on top of the car. The ceiling dented in slightly and the back windows blew out shattering glass everywhere. Bryan: “Oh my god, what the hell is that...?” Before I had time to process what had happened the ceiling was torn open with surprising ease. A large scaly hand emerged from through the roof. Razor-like claws protruded from each finger as it felt around inside the car. The hand grabbed Bryan around his neck and pulled him from the backseat. The jagged metal pieces that now protruded from the makeshift hole in the roof sliced Bryan's arms and legs wide open on his ascension. Bryan's bloodcurdling screams and cries for help were the only thing that could be heard in the night. They filled the quiet streets around me, echoing off into the distance. Bryan: “HELP! HELP ME TOM!” I couldn't move, I just sat there in utter shock. I thought that if I so much as moved my fate would end the same way. My mouth fell open as I glanced out the hole in the cars roof. A humanoid creature loomed there. It's face was hidden in shadows despite the bright moonlight and I couldn't make out any features. It held Bryan in both hands, examining him closely as he screamed for his life. Blood dripped down Bryan's legs and fell into the cab of the car, puddling there. The creature was twice as tall and twice as wide as any person I had ever seen before. It had thick, transparent wings upon its back that seemed to shimmer mysteriously. It's scales gleamed as it continued to examine Bryan. Apparently satisfied with what it had found it leapt from the car and into the sky. It's wings flapped wildly as it climbed higher and higher. Bryan's screams filled the air until, eventually, they could be heard no more. The creature had captivated the people that were surrounding my car. With surprising motivation they all began to flee. Chants of “Him”, “Him”, filled the air. As it flew into the sky they all began to follow after it, looking up as they went. Within a minute I was completely alone in the middle of the road. I wept. The emotional toll was too much for me to bear. A few minutes passed before I put the car in gear once more. I didn't know where I was going, I just knew I had to get away.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16stpjl/i_was_working_as_a_chauffeur_on_the_worst_night/

nosleep

Beavsftw

I bought my first house and found this weird notebook in the bedroom, the things the previous owner wrote were perfect for this sub. The realtor said the house has been empty since 2006.

A few weeks ago I bought my first house... well it's more of a cabin than a house, but I'm finally living on my own away from the city in a quite area by a national park. The closest neighbor is about a quarter mile from me and I'm the "last house" on the road before it becomes a hiking trail leading to the park another quarter mile in the other direction. Behind my house is a little creek that separates my backyard from the park naturally, so aside from the occasional "private property" signs it's almost like I'm living in the park. Which I enjoy because I love that park, but it means I need to keep my dog either on a leash or inside most the time so he doesn't run off. So on to the note book. It's nothing fancy or particularly old looking, just a beat up wide ruled store brand you'd get a pack of 5 for a few dollars. I only know it's pretty old cause of how beat up it is and the first entry is from 2006. I found it hidden under a loose floor board in the bedroom. I've typed out a few of the entries cause I guess the paper is so old you can't really make out the writing in any photo I took. I say guess because it looked clear and legible on my phone in the camera app, but every pic comes out out of focus and to blurry to read. Anyway, here are the highlights starting with the first entry then jumping to when things get weird: May 29th, 2006: I finally have my first house, they say that the satellite reception is spotty at best, and the phone company can't get the internet hook up to work right. But I'm not interested in any of that anyway. I'm here to be alone with my books, and my kitties Mr. and Mrs. Smith. We're about to snuggle up with a book by the fire for our first night. June 24th, 2006: Last night was kinda weird, I was cuddling with Mrs. Smith on the sofa when I heard the little Mr. calling for me from the kitchen. But when I got up he came running from the bedroom, which is the other side of the house from the kitchen. So I went to the kitchen to see what the sound was I heard, and didn't find anything. But the kitchen door was cracked open, which I could have sworn I had closed and locked when I brought in groceries. No one could have gotten to the rest of the house without me noticing, it's just kitchen, living room, then bedroom. But I grabbed the largest knife in the kitchen and looked around the house to make sure. I didn't sleep to well last night. June 28th, 2006: I heard another strange noise last night, this time it was different. Mr. and Mrs. Smith and I were sitting on the sofa in front of the fire with a book. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and hooting of an owl outside. Then I heard what I thought was two feral cats fighting outside, but the sounds they were making got louder and louder, and deeper and deeper that it started to not sound like little house cats anymore. They started to sound like lions or tigers or something. Then it got silent. I don't mean the cats stopped fighting outside, I mean the owl stopped hooting, the fire stopped crackling. All I could hear were my own thoughts, in my confusion I bumped a glass off my end table and it shattered on the wood floor without a sound. I thought I had gone deaf until just as suddenly as the silence came it went, almost all at once. It was like a dozen owls all hooted at once, the fire almost sounded like the wood was exploding in the hearth, and I heard the glass shatter almost a full minute after I had dropped it. Aug 10th, 2006: It has been over a month since that night everything went silent, and nothing strange has happened since. But Mr. Smith ran out the back door last night, and I haven't seen him all day. The Mrs. seems distraught over it and has been meowing at the back door almost nonstop since but every time I check for him there's nothing there. She did get quite for a moment while I was reading my book, but then she let out a meow that sounded like five at once before running into the bedroom. Aug 11th, 2006: Mr. Smith came home this morning, but he's missing all the hair from his tail. He doesn't seem injured but I took him to the vet just to be safe. They say they wanna hold him overnight and run some tests. Aug 13th, 2006: Overnight turned into a night, a day, and then another night but the man of the house is home. The vet says that the reason Mr. Smith didn't have any hair on his tail was he had eaten it, and apparently is continuing to try and eat the rest of his tail. I'm not sure what happened to my little man on his trip outside, but the vet says it's anxiety and he should be better after time and medication. Aug 15th, 2006: I was standing in the backyard listening to the creek enjoying my coffee in nature when it happened again. All the sound stopped. No birds, no creek, nothing. And the whole time the sound was gone, I felt like I was being watched. I think I saw a building I'd never noticed out in the tree line just before the sound came back, but I may have just been seeing things. Sep 6th, 2006: Mrs. Smith is a widow. I'm so heart broken. I found my baby boy on the kitchen porch with his tail in his mouth, he chocked on his own tail. I don't even know how he got out, the door was closed and locked and he was inside when I went to bed. When I was burying him the silence came back, and I for sure saw the building this time. It was one story but had a staircase on the side I could see leading to the roof. It looked in disrepair and I swear it was closer than it was last time, and it came with the feeling of being watched again. But it disappeared again before I could finish burying Mr. Smith and investigate, and the sound came back as soon as it vanished as well. I called the rangers and asked about it but they hung up on me saying they were tired of those prank calls. Sep 10th, 2006: I've noticed the park rangers have been coming by the area more often. It started the day after I made the call about the strange disappearing building. They won't say anything about it when I ask and seem to be avoiding me when I go out. Is something going on? Sep 14th, 2006: I guess the park rangers found what they were looking for? They haven't been by in a few days. I've started hearing those feral cats(?) fighting outside again though. They sound like they're right outside my window but I never see anything out there. Sep 15th, 2006: Holy shit holy shit what the shit? The silence came back and I saw the building, I don't know, materialize out of nowhere? Maybe the grief of loosing Mr. Smith combined with living alone is getting to me? After my last few experiences with the park rangers I don't think I'll be calling them this time though. Sep 16th, 2006: I watched as the building appeared, in a different spot again but this time just on the other side of the creek, like maybe 10-20 feet off my property. I could see it from my kitchen window when I was making my morning coffee. I noticed it's not a building, just a wall with that single fire escape style staircase on the side. But the building appearing isn't the most unsettling thing. Something (this was underlined multiple times) came down the stairs. I couldn't get a good look at it or where it came from but it came down the stairs. The thing looked, I don't know how to describe it, blurry? Like I was looking at it through a camera that was out of focus. It was almost like a bear but it walked on two legs going down the stairs, before getting on all fours and running into the forest. The stairs left shortly after it (again, underlined multiple times) ran off and the sound returned. I also haven't seen Mrs. Smith since yesterday and am worried. Sep 18th, 2006: Mrs. Smiths collar was on the kitchen porch this morning. It was sitting like someone had placed it there with the tag up facing the door. And last night, even though it was raining and I could see the lightning, I didn't hear any thunder. Not until over an hour after the storm started did I even hear the rain. Then it all came at once so loud it shook the house. And I could swear I heard someone screaming mixed with the thunder and rain. \---- That was the last entry. My dog started barking from the kitchen about half way through typing this so I'm gonna see what that was about. Though he just stopped, in fact, I think the rain outside stopped too, cause I don't hear anything.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16s1qfd/i_bought_my_first_house_and_found_this_weird/

nosleep

RakulVindicta

I Resigned After This Call...

DISPATCHER: 911. What’s your emergency? CALLER: Hi, my name’s Jessica --------. I’m not sure how to describe this, exactly, but there’s a woman in my front yard who looks like she needs some help. DISPATCHER: Is she injured, ma’am? CALLER: Not that I can see. She’s got a baby in her arms, and there’s another woman next to her who looks quite a bit older… Her mother, maybe? I’m just worried, you know with this snowstorm and all, and neither one of them has a hat or gloves on or anything. DISPATCHER: I understand, ma’am. What’s your address? CALLER: -------- --------. DISPATCHER: Is that closer to -------- -------- or -------- --------? CALLER: About half a mile north of --------. DISPATCHER: Got it. You’re a ways out there, then, huh? CALLER: Yep. Listen, I’m here at the front door, and - do you think I should invite them inside? They keep glancing toward the house. There’s something about the younger woman, the one with the baby. She looks, just… not right. DISPATCHER: She’s distressed, ma’am? CALLER: Well, not exactly. It’s her smile. She’s got her eyebrows arched way up, like she’s real surprised, but it’s… She looks… Manic? Hungry? I don’t - oh, listen to me, how silly I sound. DISPATCHER: Ma’am, would you be comfortable - CALLER: Oh my - Oh my God. DISPATCHER: What’s going on, ma’am? CALLER: They’re playing catch! DISPATCHER: Pardon? CALLER: They’re playing catch! Holy fucking shit! What the - I mean - got to be a prank - kidding me… *\[unintelligible\]* DISPATCHER: Jessica, I need you to take some deep breaths for me. Are you there, ma’am? The women are playing catch with something? CALLER: WITH THE BABY! THEY'RE PLAYING CATCH WITH THE BABY! And there’s something attached to it, a rope or something… Oh, please no! I think that’s the umbilical cord. DISPATCHER: They’re throwing the *baby*? CALLER: Yes! Back and forth! Like it’s nothing but a sack of… This is… I can’t believe this! Do you think I should… DISPATCHER: Ma’am, I need you to listen to me very carefully. Do *not* attempt to intercede. It could escalate the situation. We’ve got an officer on the way, and I need you to stay on the line and keep me apprised of the situation until he arrives. Can you do that for me, Jessica? CALLER: I - Yes. They’re still tossing the baby back and forth. I… They keep looking this way and smiling. The older lady, too. And oh my, there's something not right about that grin. It’s giving me the chills. The older one had something shiny in her hand before - I think it might have been a knife or a gun or something. She put it back in her coat, but… DISPATCHER: Is your door locked, ma’am? CALLER: Yes. I’m at the front door. The back one should be locked, too. I think. I mean, my husband should’ve closed it on his way out. DISPATCHER: You need to go and check the back door. Make sure it’s locked. Okay? CALLER: Okay. I’m going. It’s going to take a minute - with the storm, all the lights are out. DISPATCHER: I’m here with you, Jessica. Just stay on the line with me, and we’ll get you through this. CALLER: Okay. Thank you. Okay. CALLER: Alright, I’m at the back door and it’s locked. I’m returning to the front of the house now. DISPATCHER: Good job, Jessica! You’re doing great. CALLER: I’m back here at the front door. And oh… my… DISPATCHER: What’s going on? CALLER: They’ve got blood smeared on their faces. Both of them. DISPATCHER: Can you tell where the blood came from? CALLER: The younger woman’s still got the baby in her arms. I can’t tell if it’s okay or not. Oh my God, my God! It looks like they… *wrote* on themselves with it? Like a C or a sickle or something? It’s on both of their foreheads. And the younger, one, is she? Oh, no... *\[Retching\]* She's licking her hand! DISPATCHER: Can you tell if the baby’s okay, ma’am? CALLER: I can’t hear anything. All I can see is that the younger woman’s still got the baby tucked in her arm. CALLER: Oh, no… Please tell me - DISPATCHER: What’s going on, ma’am? CALLER: I just realized that I left the sunroom window cracked open earlier. The wood stove’s next to it and it was getting too hot in there. DISPATCHER: Could someone get into the house through it? CALLER: It’s small… But it’s low. Yes, I think they could. DISPATCHER: You need to go and close it now, Jessica. Okay? Can you do that for me? CALLER: Okay. I’m on my way. And oh, shit. They’re walking around the side of the house, too. How do they know what I’m doing? All the lights are off in here! DISPATCHER: I need you to stay calm, Jessica. Okay? CALLER: The old lady just made eye contact with me again - she’s still leering at me! I mean, how’s she doing that? How does she know that I’m here? Right here? DISPATCHER: Deep breaths, Jessica. I need to you stay calm for me. CALLER: I’m going, I’m going. I’m walking down the hall, almost to the sunroom. DISPATCHER: We’ve got an officer en route, Jessica, and he’s only three or four minutes away. I’m going to have you shut that window in the sunroom, then lock yourself in the safest room available, okay? Maybe a bathroom or a bedroom. Whatever has the sturdiest lock. CALLER: Okay. DISPATCHER: Can you see them from the hallway? CALLER: There’s a window, but I can’t see either of them. I can see footsteps in the snow, though. They're wrapping around the side of the house, headed toward the back yard. DISPATCHER: Okay. Almost done, Jessica. Just a couple more minutes and this’ll all be over. CALLER: Okay. *Okay.* I made it. I’m in the sunroom. DISPATCHER: Did you close the window? CALLER: I’m about to - DISPATCHER: Ma’am? CALLER: THEY’RE COMING IN! Oh my God, no! DISPATCHER: Is it the woman with the weapon, ma’am? Who’s coming in? CALLER: It’s not her! DISPATCHER: It’s the younger woman, the one with the baby? CALLER: It’s not her, either. It’s… it’s the baby. The baby’s crawling in here. Oh, no… Oh my God, no… DISPATCHER: Ma’am? CALLER: *\[Shrieks, followed by a baby’s cooing and then a hummed lullaby\]*

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16s3w07/i_resigned_after_this_call/

nosleep

No-Dragonfruit7438

Another creepy toddler encounter (true story)

This one's a true story from a family friend. Only thing I changed are the names. So some years ago, my family friend's sister unfortunately passed away. This sister's name was Angela, and after some years of battling depression, she finally took her own life by jumping from the balcony of her apartment building. Soon after, my family friend gave birth to her daughter, Angie, who she named after her late sister to honor her. She was apparently very, very close to this sister. So, as the story goes.. when little Angie had reached somewhere around the age of 4 or 5 (that age toddlers reach when they start to speak and really grow into their personality), she began to develop the wildest imagination.. the greatest manifestation of this being her imaginary friend whom she called Casey. According to our family friend, her daughter Angie did everything with this imaginary friend over a span of maybe just 5 or 6 months. Every day she was heard talking to Casey, playing house with Casey, watching movies with Casey, whispering to Casey at night when it was bedtime. Apparently Casey would even start to have opinions of their own, as there were times where Angie would run to her mother to tell her when Casey was disappointed that she never joined them when Angie held her little playtime tea parties, or sometimes she'd relay Casey's supposed frustration when Casey felt ignored by our mom family friend. Of course, our family friend always viewed this imaginary friend, Casey, as her toddler's way of interacting and communicating with her, and she'd grown pretty accustomed to it. You know, typical kid stuff. But it wasn't until one day when our family friend was sitting on her bedroom floor, sitting among stacks of photos that she had begun to organize. She had started to organize various piles of all her family members (they were a HUGE family of 9 siblings), and eventually, Angie tumbled her way into the bedroom there her mom was, babbling her typical toddler ramblings. But the toddler suddenly grew EXTREMELY excited when she saw the photo pile of her deceased aunt, Angela. She squealed while pointing at the pile "MOM, I DIDN'T KNOW YOU HAD ALL THESE PHOTOS OF CASEY! WHEN DID YOU TAKE THESE!" Our family friend was of course shocked and confused.. not believing what her child just said. "No honey... these are pictures of your aunt Angela. She passed away before you were born." "No mommy, this is Casey! Don't be silly! See? She's right here!" and then proceeds to point at the doorway. Now, I can't remember the events that took place after that incident, entirely. I do know that our family friend began crying after this event and that she was extremely freaked out by what had happened, but apparently her daughter Angie eventually grew out of this imaginary friend stage a few months later, and doesn't remember any of this today (she's around 21 years old, now). Toddlers, man.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15zhe21/another_creepy_toddler_encounter_true_story/

scarystories

kitssoupkabuki

I went hiking in the woods and discovered something horrifying

I usually go hiking in my local woods but something was different. The woods was different like how there’s a realistic silicone mask on a robot it looks just to perfect like it’s trying to hide something. I take the local path but midway something urged me to go off it and already being on the trial hundred of times I go off. I make sure I have guides to get back if I get lost like flags or other things to make an obvious sign that I’m close to the original path. As I set of there’s a scream but I just assumed it was some stupid teens trying to scare people, I continue then there a thick fog rolling in I turn back I took some different turns when I was off the trail and I made sure to tie flags to branches, there bright orange and hard to miss but they where gone. Then I herd it another blood curdling scream, I panic knowing I don’t have the items to be able to spend the night in the middle of the woods. At this point the fog is so thick I can barley see my hand straight out in front of me, then there’s there a howl but it wasn’t a wolf it couldn’t be because there where no wolf in my state and I know screaming won’t do me any good because the forest is just to thick I walk for a bit coming to a clearing. There’s another person there but not right they where to slim and had multiple arm, Where they even arms? They speak but it wasn’t any language it was like muffled gurgling. Then appears a child but he was translucent, a ghost? I follow him, he lead me to a mass murder like an animal attack a body was split in half flies every where there’s was one with there ribs poking out. The child points a body with its throat slit and beaten badly “was this you” I asked The child nods. There where more body’s I’m just to disgusted to discribe them they all looked like children the oldest being around twelve and the youngest looking about 3. I call the police as an act to comfort myself they where able to come. They took me in for questioning. They let me go . Ive never been in those woods since

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15zlz4v/i_went_hiking_in_the_woods_and_discovered/

scarystories

Bigbean512

My phone was tapped as a kid.

I had been watching YouTube for some long time, the phone was given to me from America, had the t mobile stuff and everything, Had been using it for some time, when watching videos, I'd been noticing the volume go down by itself, I didn't think much of it, until one day I saw the volume bar, go down, and down, and down, until it was at the lowest, then the video paused by itself, and that's when I heard an old man talking in English, saying some stuff, "Hi" "Hello" "I Can See You", this was the first time, I basically froze and was shocked, I threw the phone in fear, but I kept using the same phone (i told my mom but she didnt believe me at first), then it happend the 2nd time, same thing, paused the video, volume bar goes down, this time I heard a group of men, and a young girl, the 2nd time was friendly, but scary, not as creepy as the 1st time, then I had enough and reset the whole phone, that's when I knew something was wrong, I had reset the whole phone, then used it again for a while, until 2 days later, it happend again, for the 3rd time, this time I heard the same creepy old man I heard the first time, and then I ran to my mom crying, and told her "SEE?! SEE?? IM NOT CRAZY MAMA LOOK" as I was in tears, at that point the voices stopped from the phone, she believed me, then I slept, didn't use the phone, used another one, and like 3 months later when I used it again, my cousin broke it by accident. it gave me trauma, I now hate anything related to that, and I'll be in shock if it happens again. Really traumatic.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15zl618/my_phone_was_tapped_as_a_kid/

scarystories

Rich_Tea_1471

what a creepy and scary story happened to you at the same time

When I was in the ninth grade, this story happened to me 5 or 6 times, I've asked my classmates something, they stupidly ignored and didn’t answer, and when after 5 minutes I asked why you didn’t answer, they said that I didn’t say anything. Well, ok, I thought they were making fun of me, but when the directors of a very prestigious university came to our school (Our school had a huge reputation at that moment) I took the microphone and wanted to ask a question, they didn’t answer either, our teacher who was there asked me why I am silent and at that moment I realized that this is not some kind of prank or joke.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15zlpxk/what_a_creepy_and_scary_story_happened_to_you_at/

scarystories

McFucker007

The Scarecrow

When I was about 17 or 18, when I was living on my family's farm. We had corn planted out in the fields that year, we also had a lot of chickens, some cows and a cupel of horses. Everything was good, the crops was coming in good, the animals are doing fine all year. Till around late September or early October, that's when things started to git weird. The first cupel of weeks or so the animals were acting a little weird and not wanting to leave the barn or chicken coop, unless we were around. But one day when I came home from school and doing my chores around the farm, I noticed something odd on the edge of the field. So naturally I went to go check it out, it turned out to be a scarecrow. I didn't think much of it other than my dad or one of my friend's where messing with me. So, I picked it up and put it in the barn. That night the animals where louder than normal, so my dad and I went out to look around thinking it was a fox or a coyote but saw nothing and went back inside. The next morning when I woke up and did my chores, like I normally do every morning. Till I got to the chicken coop to collect the eggs, what I found was we were missing about some of our chickens. I found some traces of blood and feathers. So naturally I started running up to the house, but that when I noticed the scarecrow again. It was on the edge of the field again, but it was closer to the chicken coop. So, I thought to myself "That is not where I put that". Then I noticed the blood dripping off its mouth and hands, then it started to move closer to me. So, I ran as fast as I could and got inside the house, screaming "mom, dad" with no answer from neither of them. I ran around franticly looking for them and found no trace of them. At this point I was freaking. I searched the inter house and found nothing. The only spot I didn't look yet was the cellar. As I was walking my way down the steps, I heard dripping coming from the bottom. As I reached the bottom the dripping got louder, when I finally reached the bottom of the stairs, what I saw in the faint glow of the cellar light was my parents. They were hanging upside down with their heads missing. I panicked and fled for the stairs, but when I turned around there was the scarecrow with both my parent's heads in its hands with a big smile on its face.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15zonx2/the_scarecrow/

scarystories

firerock781

Bob in the house!

When I was 21, my husband , two and a half year old daughter, and my sister and her nine year old twins lived in this duplex in a small NH town. My husband got busted for drugs one night. The cops raided our apartment. My husband and I were both taken to the county jail. I was let go the next morning and he was there for about a week. Each night as I finally went to bed, I could hear someone taking the cover off a peanut butter jar and then proceed to walk up the stairs where we had our three bedrooms. The footsteps would stop at the top of the stairs. I finally went to ask my sister if she had just come up the stairs and she said no I thought it was you. This happened each evening. My husband was finally released from jail and he came home. We started hearing knocking on the inside of the living room closet door. The closer door in the children’s room would bang back and forth - and no there was no air flow that could have caused it. Anyone that ever spent time in that apartment heard the noises. I finally asked my neighbor next door. She said oh that’s Bob no need to worry. I said Bob?!? She said their was a family a few years back that had lived in the other half of the duplex and the husband and dad, Bob, had died of cancer. After his death, the family moved to the back part of the duplex where I resided during all of these encounters. As the story goes, the children attempted a seance in their room - now my children’s room - to talk to their dad, Bob. Apparently it worked. One night I had a bunch of ladies over for a Tupperware party (this was in 1981). We had all gathered in the dining room directly off the kitchen as we said goodbye to one another. All of a sudden, it felt like we were having an earthquake (like the rumbling of a train). I stepped into my kitchen and there was nothing, I stepped outside and there was nothing. I went back into the dining room and it was still happening. I blew it off by saying maybe there was an issue with the furnace. It stopped shortly after that. Every tenant that had ever lived there had similar experiences. I have just named a few. This is a totally true story. Hope you’re well, Bob. I’ve been by the duplex a few times since returning to NH - I live the next town over…and have been tempted to ask the current tenants if they’ve experienced anything there. I may one day.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15zt75t/bob_in_the_house/

scarystories

Pkkeywest91

This house...

I bought a bought a new house recently. It was an old cottage that i wanted to renovate. It had old water stained wallpaper and the floor boards were cracked and rotting. The cottage had a putrid smell like the walls were full of bodies. I got it for a reasonable price. The realestate agent said it had old bones that would need changing. It would be a lot of work renovating but i was very exited. I could turn it into my dream home. It really was a dream come true. A cottge on the outskirts of the forest on my own. I started outside. I pulled out all the weeds and put some grass seeds down. I filled in big holes and fixed the wobbly fence. That took me a week. It was time to start inside. I was surprised that the wallpaper wasn't peeling, thinking about how old it would be. I got out a knife and put a slit in the wall. The house shook and grumbled. Red thick liquid ran out of the cut. When i peeled back the paper i fell to the ground. Pink flesh lined the walls. I started to cry as i peeled more paper. The whole house was flesh. Pink throbing flesh. What is this stuff. Why is it here.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15zsbw4/this_house/

scarystories

indiana_jones_5555

Skin Walker?

Okay well this is a real story this might not be as scary as you think, this happened about 30 minutes ago and I’m just confused. So me and my mom are in her room just chilling and talking about my school when all the sudden we hear some scratching type of noise coming from the wall, I say something and she didn’t hear it. About 5 minutes later I’m standing next to her super loud ac keep in mind we are in the second floor, so all the sudden both of us hear a super loud growl outside of the window this was a super loud growl and recently there has been bear sightings but the off thing is it didn’t sound anything like a bear it was too human sounding now we walk outside to go see what happened like the regular white person and we don’t see anything. Little bit after we go inside I comment how it kinda sounded like my aunt, she hasn’t been to this house in several years turns out she was here just a few hours ago. My mom agrees it sounded like my aunt and I don’t know what that was and I’m just sitting here confused

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15zs4zi/skin_walker/

scarystories

DietVirtual1901

What’s the scariest or strangest thing you’ve ever encountered in the woods?

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15zhw4b/whats_the_scariest_or_strangest_thing_youve_ever/

scarystories

Jmorodp

Near Miss - The Time I Was Nearly Kidnapped

When I was a boy, around thirteen years old, I attended a birthday party for a friend of mine from elementary school. Being young men at the beginning stages of puberty, and raging with all sorts of hormones, many questionable decisions were made. We were a group of troublemakers. No doubt about it. We did everything that night from light toys on fire, to ringing peoples doorbells and running away, and so much more. As the evening staggered along, we were winding our way through various neighborhoods seeing what further trouble we could get in to. I suddenly needed to go to the bathroom, and being nowhere near any of our friends homes I decided a bush would work just perfectly. I asked my friends to wait a minute while I finished my business. Being the kind of boys that they were…patience wasn’t exactly a virtue. They indeed did not wait, and ran away. Not paying attention, I didn’t see which direction they ran in. Instead of just wandering the streets helplessly trying to find them, I decided I’d just make my way home. Knowing where I was, it should only be about a ten minute walk… …or so I thought. It was a beautiful late spring evening in the sunny Okanagan Valley in British Columbia, Canada. As I’m walking home alone, left to the devices of my own thoughts, a large pickup truck is driving down the road towards me. Not a scene that is out of the ordinary, as large pickup trucks are an immensely popular vehicle in that part of the country. As this truck approached however, I got this strange, sinking feeling inside me. I couldn’t explain it….but something was off. I kept walking not knowing what else to do, when suddenly the truck pulled over in front of me with its nose pointed directly at me. Frozen in confusion and shock, a man opens the drivers side door of this monolith of a truck, and he calls out to me, saying “Hey kid! Where are you going?” “Home” I meekly respond. “Well I can give you a ride!” He says back to me. Knowing now why that sinking feeling came upon me I quickly, but sheepishly responded “No thank you.” He didn’t seem overly enthused by my denial of his request. “Nothing to worry about son, it’s really no trouble.” Feeling genuinely scared at this point, I knew I needed to get away from him as quickly as possible. I quickly peered around my surroundings. Adjacent to us was an elementary school, the one which I had attended for a number of years. I stared at it, knowing that vaulting it’s fence and running through it’s field in to the neighborhood on it’s far end was my best, and realistically only option. The man in the truck could clearly tell what I was thinking. “Don’t do it kid,” he said. “Just get in the truck.” With no further taunting needed, I quickly sprinted the ten yards towards the fence, and in one swift move, I vaulted the fence. A rough seven foot drop on the opposing side of the fence, I got up, dusted myself off, and took off towards that neighborhood I picked out before. The man got back in his truck and began driving hurriedly around the school. Knowing my odds of escaping at this point are slim, every last ounce of energy and adrenaline I could muster, I ran harder and faster than I ever could before. Once I reached the neighborhood, I could hear in the distance the truck. It was taunting me. Beckoning me to give up, but I couldn’t. I could not, and would not give up. I was not going to let him beat me. With these thoughts in mind, I turned away from the roar of that beast filling the evening air, and ran. That roar, much to my dismay, kept getting closer and closer. No matter how fast I felt I was, outrunning that truck just seemed impossible…but I had agility and mobility on my side. After running for what felt like an eternity, my nightmare got worse. Soon he crested over the hill towards me, facing me. How could I have been that blind? How could I not have noticed that the roar was coming from ahead of me? I couldn’t think about that now. I just kept running. At the end of the street, approximately a hundred yards from me, was a gated community, and on the other side of that community, beyond it’s far gates, was my home. So I ran. Sprinted. Harder than I had to this point, ever in my life. The man in the truck caught up. He aimed right for me and accelerated, blatantly attempting to hit me. I jumped out of the way. As I fell on the lawn of some strangers home, I hear the door of the truck open, and my heart sinks. I get up and go to run, but it was too late. He reached me. He finally had me…but I wasn’t going down without a fight. He grabbed me. Trying to wrestle his arms around me, I fought hard. All I did was writhe around and kick, making myself nearly impossible to hold on to. I throw my head back hitting his nose. I feel a crunch against my skull, and I suddenly drop to the ground. I look up from the ground as blood streams from his face. “I broke his nose!” I think to myself. With shock overtaking my new enemy, I take advantage of the situation and run. I’m able to make it to that gated community I was longing for, knowing he is unable to get in without a code or a pass. With that, I’m calm. I begin to walk away. Letting my fear wash away, and letting a feeling of victory, pride, and joy come over me like I’d never experienced before. I make it through that community, and make it to my street. I walk up my driveway, and as I’m walking up my front steps, that roar I’d become all too familiar with that evening rings out from the far end of my street, but it was too late. I walk in my front door, and just stare out my kitchen window as my attempted snatcher drives away. Just like that, my enemy, this demon of a man, is no longer a worry. My parents ask how my night was. I simply say it was fun. I didn’t elaborate. I didn’t want them to worry about the horror I’d experienced that night. I settled into the couch, turning on my favorite hockey team, and let the terror of the night wash away. Ten years have gone by and I still think about that night. It was a near miss, but that’s all it was. He lost, and I won.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15zj6r3/near_miss_the_time_i_was_nearly_kidnapped/

scarystories

FixableHippo552

Person driving around and shouting for help in car parks in Italy and other countries?

On a long road trip across central europe, we stopped at a large, free car park in Pineto, Italy (64025). We were using the park4night app. We got there late and it was dark, so we couldn’t tell if this person was there initially or not, but there were many other vehicles parked, among which were some other campervans. The car park was pretty full of cars, but we didn’t see any people. A little time after we settled, we could hear very loud noises from outside, and it was a woman intermittently screaming in Italian for help, asking for the police, crying in complete hysteria, then laughing? The noises stopped after about 10-15 minutes, as it sounded as though she left the car park. It must’ve been less than half an hour before she came back again and this time I got up to look - she was now parked closer to us as I could hear her louder and finally see her. She was sitting in the driver’s seat of a Mercedes A-class (it was old, maybe circa 2005 model or even older). She was talking to a man who was stood at her window, again intermittently going into hysteria. We thought that maybe they knew each other and were having a fight, hence the racket, but I think most likely he was another person trying to camp for the night who decided to approach her and find out what was going on. Eventually she drove off again, just to return once more not long later. We were concerned about our safety as it was extremely unsettling, plus the fact that she would drive around the car park for a while every time she returned, before parking somewhere and screaming. One person in our vehicle said they thought she was in another car, a Hyundai, before she went into the Mercedes and began to act this way. They think they saw the Hyundai again later, but we’re not sure. I believe she was there alone. She was definitely by herself in the car, driving around with the windows down. When I initially looked, it was out of concern that she had been taken against her will, was being abused, or in some way harmed. She most likely was under the influence of something or was suffering from some kind of mental disorder. Either way, we were very scared to leave the van to collect our belongings from outside while she was there and to take the pop up roof bed down. As soon as we left, I immediately looked up wether there were any known/reported scams or trap type encounters like this, but I couldn’t find absolutely anything. Despite the high likelihood that it was just a one off and probably won’t happen again (as no reviews of the place on park4night suggested a regular visitor like her), I thought I’d post and see if anyone has experienced anything like this, just in the case that it WAS something dangerous to avoid and not just someone who isn’t quite with it. She didn’t appear violent, but rather just completely horrified, as if in a psychotic breakdown. Interestingly, if she was under the influence of something, she was driving very carefully - not speeding down the car park, not making sudden moves or anything reckless. Just the haunting sound of a woman, in the middle of nowhere, screaming and crying at the top of her lungs, saying many things in Italian, along with “help me.” Someone else in the car later reminded me of a woman who approached us, on her own, when we first pulled up at the car park at about 12am, asking for a pen. She spoke in Italian, had dark hair and wore a white dress, but I couldn’t possibly know if it’s the same lady as I didn’t see what car she got into. Has anyone seen something like this? TLTR; a woman was hysterically screaming for help, then intermittently laughing while coming in, out and driving around in Pineto, Italy car park in the middle of nowhere, between 12 and 4am. Has anyone seen something like this?

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15zqfy4/person_driving_around_and_shouting_for_help_in/

scarystories

_opalii

trip nightmare: hospital visit (immersive watch)

nightmares illustrated https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8XqyItP\_IiI

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15zhivs/trip_nightmare_hospital_visit_immersive_watch/

scarystories

zimikan

Into the depths.

I am going to try to describe the situation from my memories and what my friends have said. I was holding on to my friend, I was close to slipping, I said something, I let go. I got swept up. I was getting pulled by the winds, I fell, I almost caught the edge, I lost my grip, I fell. I was missing, I couldn't be found, I woke up, it had been days, I was burned, I was breathing through tubes. I got a mask, I breath through the mask now, I showed up, no one recognized me. I came across my friends. They helped me, I could talk again, my body ached, but I was alive and thankful. I still have the memories. My body hurts as we speak.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15zp2kx/into_the_depths/

scarystories

BlueImposter99

Reflections of Torment

In the forgotten village of Eldenwood, a sinister tale emerged concerning an ancient mirror hidden within the decaying mansion on the outskirts. Locals whispered that anyone who gazed into the mirror would be confronted with their deepest fears and insecurities. Curiosity led a group of friends to venture into the mansion one moonlit night. Their laughter faded as they stepped inside, sensing an oppressive atmosphere. A sense of unease settled over them, growing stronger as they discovered the mirror in a dust-covered room. Drawn like moths to a flame, they took turns peering into its depths. The mirror seemed to reflect more than appearances; it echoed their innermost thoughts. As they gazed, their reflections twisted into monstrous versions, mirroring their hidden doubts. Panic gripped the group, and they attempted to leave, but the mansion's corridors had shifted, trapping them inside. Paranoia set in, with each accusing the other of betrayal as the mirror's influence seeped deeper. Sleep-deprived and terrified, they saw movement in the corner of their eyes, shadows that weren't there. One by one, they were separated by an unseen force. Whispers echoed, not just in the mansion but inside their minds. Vivid nightmares invaded their sleep-deprived minds, blurring the line between reality and hallucination. As days stretched into weeks, they lost track of time, their appearances altering as if reflecting their inner torment. They discovered journal entries written by previous victims, detailing their descent into madness. Desperation grew, and their attempts to break the mirror failed. Confronting their darkest fears became unavoidable, and they battled manifestations of guilt, regret, and self-doubt. Friendships turned into bitter rivalries, and hallucinatory creatures hunted them. One member vanished, leaving behind only a haunting laughter that echoed through the mansion. The survivors questioned their sanity, the mansion becoming a shifting labyrinth of terror. Mirroring their fragmented psyches, the mansion's layout became surreal, a maze of distorted hallways and impossible rooms. Their reflections in the cursed mirror morphed into twisted, nightmarish versions of themselves. In a chilling climax, they realized their only escape lay in shattering the mirror. But to do so, they had to confront the parts of themselves they'd long buried. The final battle against their inner demons was a symphony of screams, culminating in a shattering climax. As the mirror cracked, reality twisted and contorted. In a blinding burst of light, the mansion crumbled into ruins. The survivors stumbled out, scarred physically and mentally. They were never the same, forever haunted by the trauma and the realization that their darkest fears had manifested. The legend of the mirror faded from Eldenwood, but the whispers of its malevolent power persisted, a reminder that some horrors dwell within the depths of our own minds.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15zhv9l/reflections_of_torment/

scarystories

lazy-roamer

AdventureLand

I Remember The Look from When I Was Six That Cartoony Look Like Something Straight Out Of The TV I Remember The Food And The Rides Corn Dogs And Ferris Wheels Log Flumes And Roller Coaster It Closed Fifteen Years Ago It Was A Nightmare For Parents That Nightmare Was Called AdventureLand

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15zjezb/adventureland/

scarystories

Successful_Answer620

Late night walk

I strolled down the cracked sidewalk the air cold harsh yet refreshing and I could faintly hear the sea crash against the rocks my view shifted towards the dark pit of water I paused in my tracks opting to lean against the large rocks keeping me from hitting the smaller rocks beneath I observed the moonlight hitting the water making it’s dark blue colour change to a shiny colour I shifted ready to continue to walk only to pause when I spotted a figure down by the water from the shape it seemed like a woman I frowned ready to shout out to see if she was okay when she suddenly began walking into the water my eyes widened it was dangerous, what was she thinking? I bit my fear and yelled out “Hey!- miss it’s late out and the sea is dangerous!-“ I yelled wincing as my voice cracked at when I froze my words dying in my throat as the woman… no thing. turned to me her eyes pitch black her cheeks sunken in and her skin as pale as the moon I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out fear overtaking me as I froze on the spot she seemed to take notice of my fear and grinned revealing rows of razor sharp teeth as drool rolled down them gills flapping on her cheek and collar bone I didn’t even think as I moved back ready to run and bolt out of there “why are you so scared dear?~” she purred out and I could feel my heart race hitting my ribs aggressively I could barely utter words “you-I..” I swallowed realising this woman is more dangerous than she lets on I was taken out of my trance as my ankles hit against a metal railing and I quickly turned darting off into the night hearing her loud wails behind me.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15z04nf/late_night_walk/

scarystories

Virgo_Calm

Am I going to die?

Am I going to die? INTERCOM: ‘Flight 308 boarding now, FLIGHT 308 BOARDING NOW’. I sigh in relief as my flight is finally boarding after 5 hours of delay. I make sure I have my passport, ticket and my phones on airplane mode, and I join the line. But, something felt odd, all the workers had a giant grin on their face, it was weird.. Update! I’m boarding the plane, and it’s a bit exciting, but I’m so nervous. Oh, one of the flight attendants is handing me something… ‘LIST OF RULES:’ um… Do I read them? Mini update.. I read them, they are a bit unsettling, but they are obviously a joke right! right..? Well, I’ll summarise the rules, I cannot mention the rules to any passenger, I cannot be loud, I cannot speak to every other passenger, and a bunch of other nonsense! I can’t lie, the other passengers do look a bit… off.. so I probably will listen to that last rule. We are taking off! I’m so excited! It’s currently 14:56, I’m going to take a nap, when I wake up it will probably be time to get off the plane! I just woke up, it’s not time to leave the plane.. My phone is gone, my watch is off my wrist and my laptop is nowhere to be seen, the people near me still seem off, and I haven’t heard anything at all since I’ve been here, just the flight attendants. THE FLIGHT ATTENDANTS… somethings off with them, they are still smiling, but it looks like they are starting to cry… red tears? I might try and find a passenger that looks a little nicer, and anyway, first class is full of snobs.. I’ll go to economy toilets and look for someone. Everyone looks weird, except one other person, obviously we are not allowed to speak, and I don’t want to risk the flight attendants seeing us speaking, so I wrote him a note.. It said ‘Have you got your phone.. I just woke up, it’s gone, Everyone looks weird.. And i got this list of rules when i first came in, meet me in the toilets.’ A minute or two later, he entered.. We whispered, as to not attract attention, he told me his name, I can’t repeat it for safety, but I can tell you I’m Mary. We both know something is seriously wrong here, but, he still has his devices, he told me he had a nap around the same time as me… and when he woke up, the time didn’t change. It. Isn’t. CHANGING. Update: He gave me his watch, and we are messaging eachother in secrecy, we just have to hope nobody notices, the flight attendants are crying heavier now, we are both thinking to ask how long is left of the flight. UPDATE: he did it. He asked.. They said ‘not much more’, I think we are stuck in another dimension.. But how do we get out? Time doesn’t tick in dreams, are we asleep? No.. We can’t still be asleep… UPDATE: The captain is coming out to meet some of us! I really want to express my concerns, I’m so excited. OH MY GOSH! It’s me first he wants to see, I gave my friend from economy a goodbye as I went to see the captain, and slowly walked over, when something was wrong, I knew it. I ran away, well, I couldn’t run too far, I’m hiding in the toilets currently, I’m using the watch to type this, it’s almost dead. I’m gonna go out.. I’m scared.. Please, if anyone hears this. Flight 308 going from San Francisco to Florida. Send help.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15z4cux/am_i_going_to_die/

scarystories

Ok_Rub9324

Reality tv part 4

I dont know if I will survive. This has gotten out of hand. I mean, I had good sleep but I cant say the same for the blonde girl. She has been throwing up all morning and had to be sent to the small hospital we have on the island. Chances are she is going to have to leave the competition to go to the hospital. This morning was bad. Awful even. We were told it was a cooking competition. That wouldn't have been bad if they hadn't said that we weren't allowed o use recipes. And then we have to eat it. I really didn't want to but I also didn't want to suffer the consequences. I don't know what David was thinking. We were all thrown into the kitchen and me and the lawyer girl stood back and let others cook. We spoke. "Hi!" She says, "You will leave with me right?" I nod, and watch in confusion as the blonde boy brings out three huge bags of pasta. He directs me to go grab every sause and I ask, "Why? It's only us and Chris who will eat this." As I go to get it, he says, "I have a portable microwave in my cabin. I'm going to make little pots for everyone in case they don't like the food. And then, we will have energy. What if we need food in the middle of the night? I have it. What if someone feels faint but food isn't for an hour? Come to me and I can heat you up a portion of pasta." We all sit back and watch as they make food. It takes just over two hours and then the competition is over. David tries our food, then the other teams, who made an entire roast dinner. We are stood, waiting for him to say who wins and let us eat. But he turns to us and says, "I like them both, surprisingly. And because I cant choose, you are both going to the elimination ceremony. Eat and I'll see the first team there." ​ We are dumbfounded, until the animal lover says, "I knew this was bound to happen. If you had let me cook, we would've won. My dad taught me how to make pasta taste good. Clearly, something yours didn't." The blonde boy looks at them in shock and says, "Well, i know who I'm voting out. There is a horrific scream and I realise my lawyer girl friend is missing. We all run out and she is passed out, the kid who went missing stood over here. One person throws up and the producers say, "OH MY GOD HOW DID THEY GET HERE?" He sprints off and a producer looks over the lawyer girl. He shoves us back inside and says, "So. We don't actually know how, but she is on the bridge of death. We have doctors looking after her but we are going to end the show early. A boat has been called for you all, and we are going to split the million between you. We have actually recived cast votes on who should get the most and that is..." He points to me, "The boat will be here in ten." ​ The blonde girl says, "What about the boy?" The producer turns round and says, "Well, you guys are going to fight this out in court. If you want, but we aren't paying for your lawyers." The boat is here and I'm doing a last minute check of my sleeping area. See you in court.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15z4x3a/reality_tv_part_4/

scarystories

WritingwithAtlas_

I feel breathing...

I feel breathing... It was just a normal day at school, I was going to the bathroom because 5th period was almost over, when an anoucment came on, "Students and faculty we are going into lock down, this is not a drill I repeat this is not a drill." Stressed and scared I ran, I was already seeing doors being slamming. I didn't want to be caught by whoever it could be in the hallways. I was going to go to the bathroom stall but it had a crazy locking system and you could just slide under. So I kept running until I saw the janitors closet, for some reason the ceiling was very tall. I went in and locked the door. As I breathed heavily all I could her was "GET ON THE GROUND," until a couple of stray bullets went clean through the door. I used the holes to look out into the hall way. I could just barely see the thing, but it wasn't human. It was a huge thing, almost touching the ceiling, and all I could hear was the bullets being bounced of of its body. I look at it and for a couple of seconds and it just looks an me with a blanks stare. Suddenly it disappeared and all the of the army guards and cops are in pure shock and I hear "oh no who was it looking at?" Then I feel breathing on my neck..

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15yns7c/i_feel_breathing/

scarystories

ilikelegos783

The US left Afghanistan for a bigger reason

Afghanistan has always been a big priority for the United States. so it was shocking to hear about U.S. forces leaving Afghanistan. They left due to an agreement with the Taliban but that’s a lie. The U.S. military found something. Something so big it made the world’s most powerful military run like a hen. A few years ago I worked in Afghanistan alongside the U.S. military. I usually got dispatched to search for some artifacts worthy of putting in a museum or to analyze previous battlefields. My job seemed simple, but that’s the keyword, seemed. One day I was deployed along with 3 other archeologists. Lets refer to them as D, M, and J. It was protocol to always deploy us with troops. The troops were there to protect us in case the Taliban decided to attack us. When the general briefed us as to where our site was located, something seemed off. The site was very far away and miles away from any human civilization. The closest point of interest was an abandoned village 2 miles north of the site. We weren’t allowed to ask questions so we obliged. I took my dash cam with me as it was a part of my equipment and left the base. When we finally arrived after hours on the road, we found ourselves in the middle of one of the most dead and barren deserts I have ever seen. It seemed like the place was wiped out by something stronger than heat. The troops pointed us to a cave nearby so we took our equipment and headed off. The cave entrance was beaten up which made it hard to get in. Something about this cave didn’t read well with me. I asked the other archeologists if they felt the same and they agreed with me. The cave had massive scratch marks along with abundant amounts of animal skeletons. We assumed this was a hotspot for predators and never asked questions. Something was inside this cave with us, we narrowed it down to coyotes and wolves. We ventured deeper into the cave as the troops stood guard at the entrance. We were given some earpieces connected to the guards to stay in contact. As we moved deeper into the cave, the cave got bigger and the bones increased. We got increasingly worried with every step we took. The cave then split into 2 paths, So we decided to split up in 2 and see what we can find. I went with D while J went with M. If anyone found anything, they were to contact us via the earpieces. As D and I walked through our path, I clutched my flashlight tightly in my arm. Then to my shock, I found a dozen coyotes all dead on the floor. Every coyote had scratch marks which we assumed were the work of a bear. Just as I pressed my earpiece to talk I heard buzzing from J’s earpiece. We then heard noises from another part of the cave followed by the sound of J’s earpiece disconnecting. The troops immediately spoke on the line and ordered us to leave the cave. We believed the Taliban had attacked the troops. D and I ran to the exit, and as we did, I saw a lanky, shadowy, and tall creature in the corner of my eye in the shadows at the point where our team diverged. Its eyes glowing in the darkness. Whatever that thing was, it was big. As D and I approached the guards they ordered us to exit the cave and wait outside. Then we heard screaming coming from M and J’s path after which we saw M limping towards us. Then what I thought was a figment of my imagination was real and proceeded to drag M back into the depths of the cave as he screamed in agony. D and I hurdled out of the cave’s worn-down entrance. The troops marched into the cave. When D and I got to safety we started listening to the radio chatter through our earpieces. After waiting for a bit, we heard gunfire and the troops' earpieces disconnecting. D tried speaking through the earpiece but no one responded. I decided to look into the cave from behind one of the rocks blocking the entrance and then I saw it again. The same creature I saw while running out of the cave. It didn’t try to approach me but it stared at me. Its eyes sent shivers down my spine. I was traumatized, I could never get its image out of my head. The second I saw the creature I knew the soldiers were dead. Then I warned D and we both got in a car and speeded away. As soon as we arrived at our base we informed the general of everything and he didn’t believe us. So we decided to show him our dashcam footage. There were only 2 frames where the creature appeared. We also showed the general the horrifying footage of M being pulled back by the creature. The general was very concerned and immediately informed headquarters which recalled us back to the states. When we arrived back we were isolated from society and forced into questioning. I was asked many questions about it. I was then told to never disclose this to anyone. On the 30th of August 2021, I was suddenly diagnosed with a lethal disease which coincidentally happened to be the same date that the U.S. pulled out of Afghanistan due to an agreement with the Taliban. On the same date, D died of natural causes. Very few others know that my health and D’s death are no coincidence and that the U.S. didn’t pull out due to an agreement. I tell you this story because I am now on my deathbed. To this day I still see that creature watching me as I fall asleep through the windows or in the corner of my room. I have been forever haunted by this creature and I will now finally rest easy knowing that the world will know my story.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15ysope/the_us_left_afghanistan_for_a_bigger_reason/

scarystories

RegularImpress8177

"Tale of the Necromancer" - dark fantasy/horror story with some philosophy

This is dark fantasy/horror story, stylized as an ancient oral legend, which tells the story of a simple man's journey and gradual descent into darkness - and ascension to power. We tried to give our villain protagonist some psychological and philosophical deep, not just "HAHAHA I am evil and will rule the world!". Here is the audio :[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KCdlph835qc](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KCdlph835qc) If You prefer to read: [https://adeptusrpg.wordpress.com/2022/12/14/tale-of-the-necromancer/](https://adeptusrpg.wordpress.com/2022/12/14/tale-of-the-necromancer/)  I am an author of the text, other guy read it and recorded. We are very interested in Your feedback and discussion.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15z1c5c/tale_of_the_necromancer_dark_fantasyhorror_story/

scarystories

Adeptus_Gedeon

This was not a school shooting

I was walking to the bathroom in school when a loud blaring began. It was the lockdown alarm. Panic struck over me and I started running as fast as I could to the bathrooms. I ran past the unisex bathroom and went in. I locked the door and sat in the corner. I knew what to do. Turn the lights off, cover windows (if any), and lock the doors. There were no windows and the lights were already off. I went into the unisex toilet because I hoped it would be the last place they would check. The PA screamed “this is not a drill, don't answer the door to any-” She was cut off with a loud screech. It didn't sound like the PA broke. It sounded like some creature was there. But lockdowns are usually shooters? Was she shot? The office wasn’t far from the bathrooms. A loud gurgling noise came from the hall. The office door slammed as scratching footsteps of something crawling through the school drew closer to my stall. Then footsteps of what seemed to be people came charging in. It sounded like there were rows of policemen. “Stop! Don’t take another step. Put your hands behind your back or else we open fire!” There was a rattling noise as they lifted their guns and loaded. That screech again. The same one that came over the PA. Screams of 20 or more men crowded the halls. All the gunshots made my ears ring. One of the men, probably the one in charge, said “Please calm down! This isn't you!” His voice was low, calm even. I peeked out of the keyhole teachers used to open the door. There was blood everywhere and a strong smell of iron and flesh. I saw the man. He wasn't wearing a police uniform. It looked like a lab coat. The white was now spattered in red and he was holding his chest. “Come back. We won't hurt you anymore.” I looked up at the creature. It towered the man and had to bend down to fit in the hall. Its arms were lanky and its legs were bent. It was crawling on all fours similar to a monkey but much skinnier. There were gunshot wounds all over it and its skin was pitch black. I could basically see its bones. Then I saw more men wearing lab coats sneak up behind it. They tased it in the back and dragged its limp body away. The main man said into his phone, "We need to clean up in the front.” I sat back down and did not watch anymore. All the blood was making me sick. When the teachers came out I ran out of the bathroom. There was no more blood or bodies. The Smell of iron was gone. I hugged one of the teachers and told her what I saw. She Didn't believe me. No one did. That was not the police. And this was not a shooting…

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15ypfu0/this_was_not_a_school_shooting/

scarystories

indiana_jones_5555

Hi, I am creating a content story for my social media. would you share your story with me? I'll make sure to give proper credit!

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15yxvxg/hi_i_am_creating_a_content_story_for_my_social/

scarystories

aiwebstories

Do I need a title

It was 1:33pm I sleep downstairs in a larger house, I live with mom dad and my brother, but dad was gone out of town for a few days and mom and brother were spending the night at my cousins dog sitting. Being in the basement there tons of noise but I shrugged it off and thought it was them moving around but they were all gone I was home alone. I reached for the light remote to see if there was something or someone and before I could press the button I feel a cold breath on my hand I was froze for a second but pressed the button and looked around that’s when I heard footsteps upstairs I slowly walked up trying not to get shot if there burglars but it was worse. A skeleton like figure was looking in the dimly lit fridge. Trying not to fight or flight I stalked the “figure” and followed it into my parents room and into there walk in closet. That’s when I knew where it came from. The attic. We had a small space to get in for the bathroom vent system but the attic was the whole house when i peeked up there looking one way it was pitch black and I felt that same breath on my hand that was reaching out in front of me but it was shaky and stutter. “ the figure “ emerged from nothingness and I knew who it was. My grandma. But how and why ? She could barely speek I ran back downstairs in a panic and hid in my covers trying to proses everything. Fast forward to now it’s 3 weeks later and I’ve told nobody I know or seen I’m truly traumatized.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15yupib/do_i_need_a_title/

scarystories

Dirtymustang75

My Brother Was Murdered In The Himalayan Mountains. It Was My Fault

‘I can’t be restrained under the Mental Health Act, because I’m not crazy. I need to get it off my chest, but I can’t do it for free, not for something like this, even in my situation. And I certainly don’t need to speak to the police, there really is no need. I killed my brother. Killed him in cold blood.’ A sinister blackness enveloped the second city. There was a late summer downpour, and it washed the sins of mankind, but not Granger. Each droplet boomeranged away from him, as he walked to the entrance of the towering cube. Woods had to fit Granger into his busy schedule at the BBC Media HQ, on Level 7 of the Mailbox. He took out his outdated iPhone and pressed record in the voice memos application. Granger sat with his back arched in the chair, his hands crossed in his lap and his fingers oscillated like pendulums. He stared intently into his palms, as if he was replaying the scene of his favourite horror movie. ‘So you killed him, or-’ ‘Not exactly.’ He unglued his hands and rocked back abruptly. ‘I caused it, I killed Jordi, and you need to hear the truth, and I...I need to tell you.’ Granger looked weathered, even for a man his age. His eyes seemed desperate, and the shedding of his silvery hair summoned a tale of depression. ‘What is there to tell? It's all in the papers...he was widely believed to have been murdered, by his servant at home in the Kalash valley.’ *News Network International* *September 06, 2001 (NNI), CHITRAL* *Dr Jordi Granger Killed in Pakistan* *A respected zoologist searching for the “Snowman” (called Barmanou or the Junglee / Wild-Man in Pakistan) was repeatedly stabbed to death by his local servant. The accused escaped after committing the crime. Insider reports detail a British citizen, Dr Jordi Granger, lived in a hut in the Kalash Valley with his servant. Dr Granger often trekked in the mountains of Chitral and neighbouring regions. Shaheen-Ul-Haq, a local, reported to the police station that Dr Granger was found in his bedroom with a slit in his throat.* ‘Bollocks. There was a cover up, you know it all don’t add up, what cause did his servant have after all those years up there?’ ‘Maybe he was waiting for the perfect moment-’ Granger clenched his fists and slammed them on the chair’s armrest. ‘This is lazy journalism; you may as well tell me to get lost you smug parrot.’ Granger knew Woods had to deal with some rather interesting personalities, which came with the territory. The groundwork rarely paid dividends at the BBC. When he contacted Woods from their corporate website, he was probably giving him the numbers for the next lotto, a breakthrough. What could possibly go wrong? He had dealt with loonies before, but this loony might just be a walking ATM machine for his career. ‘Sorry, please continue. You mentioned, this couldn’t be done for free and how you need to tell us what happened, why is that?’ ‘Well the thing is...’ Granger almost fell out his chair after thrusting back. He retreated his elbows, gazing at the table separating him from Woods. ‘Where did you get that from?’ he snapped. His eyes shrank into empty keyholes. ‘That tree. That disgusting, leaking, tree.’ ‘It’s a Juniper-’ ‘Yeah, I know what it is smart arse! Why is it leaking!’ Granger saw a bonsai juniper tree sat on Woods desk, its familiar trunk was extravagantly vaulting in his direction, beneath, it made a growing pool, of a dark, clotted substance. ‘There was a good deal on Etsy, thought it would liven up my office. How is it leaking?’ ‘You think am mad?’ Granger spat. ‘If it helps, I will move it away.’ ‘It’s not a bother, you said it.’ ‘Is that fine?’ ‘OK.’ Granger’s elbows were no longer retreated, and the springs in his back lost their stiffness. ‘Let us continue,’ Woods said as he returned to his desk, ‘Why do you need to tell us, and being frank, why do you need the money, given the chartered accountant accreditation you have in your email signature?’ ‘I lost my job. Everything changed for me after I killed Jordi. I started drinking. They all know me on Broad Street. I’ve never been an alcohol person; the smell alone just puts me off. Am a decent guy, not like one of your pissheads. But there I was, thinking it would really help, like it does everyone else. It didn’t.’ ‘What did you do?’ ‘I was smart enough to realise that alcohol was not going to make me forget what I had done. My brother deserved justice. That’s when I decided I would head to Chitral. By the time I got back, the nightmares began, and that’s when I started using.’ ‘How was Jordi murdered?’ ‘What’s it with you sleazeballs! Stop trying to force it! It’s not easy getting it all out, I’ve been waiting to do this a long, long time, you have no idea! Carrying this gremlin on my back, nobody except the mirror to unload.’ Granger bounced from side to side and his eyes threatened Woods. ‘Don’t take me for one of your cheap clout-chasing drama queens, who’d sell their gran for a pound, or to plug their dirty media, they’d say anything. Am not going to prance around and talk about how I was abused or how I wasn’t the favourite. I’ll give you my peace, don’t concern yourself about that. You will think it’s all shite anyway. Am not fussed. Just letting it out will do it for me.’ ‘That’s fine by me.’ Woods reached for the Bensons & Hedges in his breast pocket. ‘I raised Jordi being his older brother and what not, our father was a bum we never saw, and mother passed to cancer. It was the lungs. That pierced the both of us., Nobody cried harder than Jordi.’ Granger’s lips twitched as his smile widened and retracted in a flash. ‘Mother scratched and clawed to feed us, she managed to save enough to put a deposit on a little sweet shop on the corner. It just about kept us going. A lot was expected of me. I had three jobs; newspaper boy, supermarket sweeper and in between, I had to cover mother at the sweet shop, because Jordi was too unwell or ‘over-worked’ or simply needed to play with the other kids. Mother said it ought to help his development and what not.’ Granger shook his head at a tilt, his upper lip climbed upwards and saliva dripped. ‘Whenever mother was unable to be at the shop, she needed both of us there. On more than a couple of occasions, when I had to rush back from the supermarket, I noticed the till was a little lighter at the end of the day, with no record of a sale. I put it down to an accounting error. But one day as we left the shop, three 20-pound notes slipped from Jordi’s back pocket.’ ‘What happened?’ Woods asked, after taking a drag. ‘What do you think? I slapped the sly cunt. Am telling you, it felt damn good wiping that smirk off his face. I tried to tell mother, but she wouldn’t have any of it. Her little precious Jordi could be Hitler incarnate and she would never believe you. I’d get called a bad brother, told how I don’t do enough and that it’s all my fault! She even took that twirps name in her final breaths. Would you believe that?!’ Woods nodded without commitment. ‘It got to a point where I had to leave them. I could never please my mother, but I needed to do more for myself. And that’s when I went to Oxford and obtained my accreditation. The first in our family to do it. But it didn’t matter; Jordi went to a mickey mouse uni and became a Zoologist! They threw a party for him at the Regency, just across this building. A caveman expert! For fucks sake!’ ‘I busted my back for a Big 4 company, overtime, weekends, you name it. It was real hard work and I made sure to send mother a transfer each month. There were many times when I was sick of working for those corporate shills, but I didn’t have it in me to quit. When mother was not with us, I left the capital. I thought it’s what she would want, for me to look out for Jordi. So, I quit my job.’ ‘What was your relationship like with Jordi after that?’ Woods asked intuitively. ‘For a while, things were steady between the two of us. It seemed like he was grounded and focussed on his career. If am honest he was starting to come along. There were times though, when I may have called him a piece of shit when my stuff went missing. Nothing too horrible, of course I’d find the things later, but I couldn’t admit it. Some days Jordi would come home late, and I’d lash out, I thought maybe he’d be up to no good, just like the old days. Turns out he was just mingling with some colleagues after work. Then it came to a point where there were days, when I’d not see him until the next morning. What was he playing at? We had a chat about it, and I tried to be nice. He said it was work, but I never understood the depths which involved the study of animals and their behaviour at the time. One day we just had it all out, I called him a useless bum repeatedly. Blamed him for mother’s death. I ripped his qualifications and job too... I said how it was meaningless, the animal nonsense and that he was a disgrace to the family. I really did intend it at the time, you know. I quit my job for him, and he was wasting the best years of his life. I was insulted. After trying to redeem him, all he had to say to me was, ‘you fucking bastard’. All I can recall is, I saw RED, and slapped him so hard, it could have woken up mother. A couple days later, Jordi left after leaving a note. He ended up there, because of me.’ Bro, am heading to Chitral. I’ll be making you and mother proud. Granger went blank and appeared dazed. Woods had to click his fingers to disturb his tangential demon. ‘Ah where, what? Yes. Jordi. I loved him regardless.’ He said it with venom, as though he loved his brother to spite his torment. ‘Who killed Jordi?’ Woods asked. ‘Barmanou,’ Andre Granger answered instantly. ‘Barmanou killed him. Just came out his lair, hunted him down to his hut, and killed him.’ He crouched forward and smirked. ‘Yeah, you think am mental, I can tell by that horrible face you’re making. Am not fussed. I just need to get this out, and I'll fuck right off.’ ‘Barmanou, the wild snow man? It's all a myth isn’t it? His existence has never been officially confirmed.’ Woods asked with a provoking poker face. ‘Look, I read the reports just like everyone did, it’s how I came to learn of his death. And I believed it too, just like you. For a while. I was all over the place in the head, not quite there, you know. If I had been a better brother, none of it would have happened. I barely ate and couldn’t sleep at night; I couldn’t mourn him the right way. The Kalashi people wouldn’t allow his body to be sent here, it would have been against their beliefs and all. I didn’t quite understand, but it sounded to me like he was close to those people. They probably treated him better than I did. I agreed for him to be buried there. About a fortnight had passed. I started to contemplate opening the bottle, and so, I went to the nearest paper shop from my house, which is a 15-minute walk. I can’t recall the time exactly; it was late in the evening. It’s always a bit quiet on my road, once you get off it, things liven up. A few more bodies to keep you company, as you walk the pavement, and the lights from the top floor bedrooms guide you. I made it to the shop, and amateurishly asked for the strongest drink on offer. A brown-skinned, turban-wearing man, stood behind the counter, he was about to hand me a bottle of scotch. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but I just didn’t like the colour. I pointed at a clearer bottle, I felt it would be more domesticated for my liking. I thought better than to be drinking the moment I set off, but a sniff couldn’t hurt right? Make sure it was ok. To my surprise, it wasn’t too bad, a few spoiled apples, that was all. Anyway, on the way back, the roads were completely dead. I could see no one, and the only sound I could hear, was my own footsteps. No homes provided me a glow either, and I had to focus, as I staggered in the gloom. I got to my road, and the closer I was to my house, each streetlight I passed mysteriously went off. I walked faster and reached my door, quickly opened it, daring not to look back. When I was inside, I noticed a small, square package, on my floormat.’ Granger paused for a second and exhaled a part of the toxic air trapped in his lungs. ‘What was it?’ Woods asked. ‘Nothing special on initial glance. It appeared to be a journal of some kind. The covers were on the shagged side, but made from a sturdy leather, straps connected folded paper to the spine. I could tell it was from a bygone time. I opened the first page, the top right corner read; Jordi Granger, My Search For Barmanou.’ Granger shivered as he read. ‘Now. I can’t go into the depths of the detail which plague my soul. But my brother experienced terrible apprehension in the days leading up to his death.’ Granger slouched his head. ‘What did you find in the journal?’ Woods whispered. ‘It was nothing much on first look, an extract here, an extract there, followed by a funny image on some pages, of a furry animal looking thing, it always cracked me up with its big weird head, and gaped mouth, showing those clear white teeth, I couldn’t tell if it was smiling or not, it looked like confused.com. The more I saw it, I became curious. So, I made the effort to read some of the eyewitness reports. One of them revolved around some middle-aged shepherd called Lal Tor, talking about footprints he saw in soft ground, while he walked in a forest above his home. He described the footprints as being like that of a human, but the forward part was wider, they were 27 centimetres in length and 15 centimetres in width. You know what they say don’t you, big feet and all, aha? The witness stated the prints were distinct and showed evidence of hair on top of the foot. I giggled at this thinking what a hairy bastard. Anyway, tracks went up to the top of the mountain, and showed the wildling had been using its hands to climb up the slope. His hands were said to be broad and his fingers were short and narrow. In tandem with the large prints, there was another trail, a long bloody streak, which stretched to the top. It was probably dinner, just some animal or something.’ Granger’s lips twitched and he offered the disturbing grin again which was gone in a blink. ‘I thought my brother was some moron for wasting his time, but there were numerous reports going on about tracks or how the hairy mongrel looked. It appeared his research was warranted somewhat, either that or the lot of them were crazy. There was one witness report in the journal which got me though. There was a little fella by the name of Nur Ul Lah, a 7-year-old, and another one going by Abdur Rehman, a 5-year-old. Both provided info to Jordi.’ Granger’s fingers began to seesaw. Woods passed a bottle of highland spring to Granger. He took a sip every 5 seconds, as though he was drinking from an hourglass. Then continued, after taking a big gulp. ‘So, the story goes. There were three kids, two little lads and a lass. They were playing near a river close to their local village. The two lads were play fighting, probably trying to impress. The girl noticed the thing first, she wasn’t giggling anymore, and her desperate legs made her invisible behind some bush. The Big Hairy, as the kids described, was rushing down the mountain. The lads didn’t notice the Big Hairy until she stood between them. The thing kicked the shorter lad to the ground and grabbed him. The other lad, petrified, ran down towards the village with the girl. They saw the Big Hairy, sprinting away up the mountain; like an offroad vehicle with coupe speeds, it carried the boy, 4 year old Gul Khan. The boy and the girl who escaped, dared not to speak a word at first and didn’t go home, they hid in the first garden they came across, on the outskirts of the village. It was mid-day when the boys' father became concerned and went out looking for him, eventually finding the boy and the girl, quivering in their fused arms. The boy told the story, and the village was alerted. After discovering large footprints near the river, hundreds of people scoured the mountain, in vain. The villagers concluded it was a Pari, which means a spirit or witch in their foreign tongue. Days later, some teenagers who still patrolled the area, using binoculars, discovered a child’s clothing wash up on the river’s edge. They found a body, permanently still, the t-shirt; a reddish brown. There was a hole in the boy’s neck.’ Granger went silent. ‘Were you convinced it was Barmanou then?’ Woods asked faintly. ‘No, not then. But there were some things from the witness reports. Didn’t mean much at the time, but they were stored at the back of my mind.’ ‘What were they?’ ‘There were some differences in the accounts, on whether the thing was male or female, the size of its prints or how it looked. But each witness noted a leaking Juniper tree and lone howling; this usually ended with an unsettling proclamation.’ ‘I see. Did you finish the journal then?’ ‘What do you think fancy pants? What would you do? After reading all that. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit, I was shitting it a little bit. It was the perfect opportunity to take a sip or two of the clear liquid. And before I knew it, the bottle was half empty.’ Granger began to shuffle in his seat. ‘Look, I had my first drink. But I want to assure you, I was sound of mind. It’s important you know that before I speak further.’ ‘Sure.’ ‘I was knocked out after that for some time. It must have been around 2:44 in the morning. I felt a sharp cramp in the stomach, so went to the kitchen to get some water. I turned on the tap, but what came out was a viscous discharge, of a reddish slime. I froze, as the filth was glued to my hands. It smelled like the rusty chains of a lost bike. I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn’t having some nightmare. In a fright, I used my t-shirt to get the sticky shit off me. I had better luck with the fridge, pouring myself some more clear liquid... don’t judge me, it was all I could find. Gathering myself, I walked to the front room and stared down the road. There was no human soul in sight or light. It was a pit of gloom. A strange outline wrapped the moon, the darkness expanded, as it made its unhasty way towards me. I couldn’t look away, it reached the house, and suddenly, every bulb went off. My chest pounding, I hurried to close all the curtains, and double locked the front door. I darted up the stairs and pulled the duvet over me like a child. Then, there was a lone howl from downstairs. I prayed and prayed, pleading with God for forgiveness and protection. Each step it took, dripped, and cracked. As it climbed the stairs, it was starting to sound less like a person and more like a wet savage, slamming the wood beneath, with its developed meat.’ Granger was starting to sweat like a wet savage himself. ‘What happened then?’ Woods asked. ‘I don’t remember, I may have passed out in a panic. But the whole ordeal got me thinking real deep you know. Jordi’s research involved substantial work in the field. What if one day, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time? I had to find out more. It’s the least I could do for my brother, this was his life’s work. I owed it to him. I had decided, I would journey to Northern Pakistan.’ Woods lit another smoke. ‘My lawyer put me in touch with the Kalashi tribe, through some links he made following Jordis’s death. I exchanged some letters with their leader, Saif Jan. We agreed I would journey in the summer, given the weather and all being a little more predictable up there. I was to meet a bloke by the name of Kaleem Kabir, the only MBA in Chitral. Wet met at Islamabad Airport, and he greeted me with open arms and a wide smile. I really felt his embrace you know, big, big lad, and tried my best not to tear up. All that time and no one to grieve with. We made a stop at Ramyal, a small village in the KPK region for a short break, and then continued to Chitral, from the N-45 Highway via a Japanese four-wheeler. I avoid flying as much as possible. Hours went by sharing stories about Jordi; I felt the love these people had for him in abundance. I must say, I was impressed with Kaleem’s English. We were getting closer to Chitral, and the spectacular Himalayan Mountain range was in full view; it encapsulated the district with pure glory, from some of the highest peaks on God’s earth. Finally, we crossed grazing lands and entered the Kalash Valley.’ Granger smiled maniacally. ‘It was heaven Woods. The bubbling crystal flowing between the valley, vast pine forests which scented the air, and mountains....mountains which breathed life with Christmas.’ ‘I don’t doubt it.’ Woods remarked. ‘Kaleem took me to the Hindu Kush Kalash home guesthouse. It was located in the Krakal Village, located in one of the Kalash Valley’s called Bumboret. Interestingly, it was minutes from the hut where my brother was killed. I was given the finest foods in the valley, and told to rest before joining the tribal leader Saif Jan the next evening, for the Kalashi’s annual summer solstice festival. This year's event would celebrate the life of Jordi. I didn’t find out much about the festival... some things it’s best to experience for yourself you know, living in the moment and all that. But I had read a little bit about the tribe and their beliefs, Kaleem did his best to get me up to speed. It can be tricky to find a catch-all word to label the Kalashi religion, but they are sure to emphasise they believe in the one God, which is similar to the Abrahamic faiths, but that this God has many messengers, who are viewed as Gods. Pagan may not be entirely accurate to define their beliefs, although they did seem to have some commonality with the faiths of pre-Christian Northern Europe. For the first time in months, I slept like a baby. I rested in my brother’s land. It gave me a sort of peace you know; he was right here with me, and I was going to find out what happened. Kaleem came a couple of hours after I woke up, late in the afternoon. He gave me a brew, the strongest I’d ever had, I felt like I could climb Everest. We got in the four-wheeler, passed through the mesmerising Kalashi river, 20 miles over the deceptively twisty roads of the western Hindu Kush mountains, and made it to the Ayan village centre at the top of a hill. There were kids bouncing around everywhere. The women must have been sponsoring the rainbow with their vibrant colours and cool headdress which had that feather thing sticking out the top, and the men tended to the animals, carrying wood everywhere. Kaleem took me to a two-story mud and stone house just outside the central square. It belonged to Saif Jan. He was a rather small chap with a grey beard which extended to his neck, a wildly excited feather in his cap, and a cheeky smirk which did well to hide the wrinkles. I think he was smoking juniper; his eyes were all cloudy and red. “Ishpata, baya. Prusht taza?” he said, which Kaleem translated for me as “Welcome, brother. Are you well?”. Pleasantries were exchanged, and I got him on the topic of Jordi. He began to well up for a few minutes before shouting “He was one of us!”. He went on a bit of a rant, talking about how Jordi helped the locals with farming, how they learned of the many wonders of HP sauce and beans on toast from him. And also, how to make a bit more money off the tourists, with silly branding like no added sugar and shorter hair. Jordi was obviously there for his research, but it got a little out of hand. I asked Saif Jan what he meant by this. And he got very close to my left ear, and said very softly, “Barmanou”. He quickly backed away and didn’t want to offer more detail. But he did describe how he found Jordi in his hut. His eyelids were completely shut, almost by force. His mouth was wide open vertically, and his throat, was mutilated...’ Granger’s speech became slurred, and his words faded. A big and silent tear drop trickled over a bump below his right eye, and raced down his cheek. Woods handed Granger some tissues. ‘Did you visit Jordi’s Tomb while you were there?’ Granger halted in the act of blowing his nose and slowly looked up at Woods. ‘What the fuck would you do? Are you taking the piss mate?’ ‘Not at all,’ Woods said. ‘Then don’t ask me stupid shit. Let me say it my way, I told you, I’ve been waiting to do this a long fucking time.’ ‘Fine,’ Woods said. ‘Fine!’ Granger reverberated with disdain. He appeared to have lost his bearings, and his eyes roamed uneasily to a dark corner behind him, where Woods had placed the juniper tree. ‘Do you want me to move it out?’ Woods asked. ‘No.’ Granger said, while he laughed nervously. ‘Where was I? Think it was Saif Jan. Yes. I began to tremble when Saif Jan told me that last bit, but at the same time I wanted to do something about it you know? It was like a, what do they say? Fight or flight. I asked him where Jordi had travelled before his death, Saif Jan hesitated, but informed me he spent much of his time in Shishi Koh Valley. I looked to Kaleem, and he just knew I wanted to be taken there immediately. Saif Jan begged me not to go. I asked why, and he spewed some none sense about dark entities and evil manifesting after dusk. Knowing I would not budge, he lit a sprig and encircled me five times with its poignant smoke. He then offered me a weird looking spliff, and it would have been rude not to take a drag. I was declared purified and protected, only if I could complete the final step by making a sacrifice during the festival, unlike Jordi. I thanked the old man and left thinking, what a crazy old fart. Kaleem insisted I attend the festival and how my sacrifice could be some random animal and all. I found it backward and didn’t really have the stomach for it. Yeah, I love my KFC, don’t look at me like that, we’re all hypocrites. Kaleem said it would be fine, how he’d find something which had lost its family, and how I’d be doing it a favour. Sick bastard. I refused, and he said that he could only take me so far. I agreed, like I had a choice. So, we got on four wheels and headed towards Shishi Valley Road. A trail of smoke which followed us from the village, became more and more distant in the wing mirror next to me. The flames eroded behind us. We made it to Madaklasht, a neighbouring valley to the extreme north of Shishi Koh. The drive was largely ok, considering the lack of roads, except for the final hour. We passed a bumpy road along the riverside, and then got onto a dusty track, which blinded all corners of the car. The wipers did little to blunt the attack, and the fading daylight didn’t help. We were on the curved edge of a mountain, with no barrier for support. The fog lights barely helped Kaleem. He twisted and turned, almost on loop, while he cursed the government’s dismantling of the road on the pretext of making it better, and leaving it worse off. It felt like we were surrounded with no escape. Finally, the dust storm settled, as did my apprehension. He drove a little further, and I got off, just as the road began to straighten. Kaleem pointed to an old caravan route which was out of use. I was to travel from there, onto my unknown destination. He politely asked if he should wait. We both knew he’d struggle in the darkness. I declined and asked him to return to my drop off the next morning. He pleaded with me one last time, to leave with him.’ Granger’s shoulders hunched. He looked ghoulishly at the floor. ‘What kept you going, especially, all alone?’ Woods leaned forward and spoke a touch softer. ‘Honestly, I don’t know. I had come too far to turn back. So, I walked the dusty path wedged between mountains which were hideously tall and rugged. It had only been a mile when it became completely dark and awfully silent. I was going to pull out my torch, but was overcome by that revolting feeling when you’ve lost something. I had left my bag in the four-wheeler. Pointy shadows came from the pine forests to my side, and within them, I kept seeing a large figure which was briefly illuminated by the moonlight. I stopped and examined further, but of course there was nothing. Gritty snow began to fall, and I had to make haste. I decided to look out for Juniper trees, recalling the witness reports from Jordi’s journal, something always seemed to happen near them. The first couple I passed were uneventful; if anything, the dense canopy of snow which was starting to build, made them look divine. But then, then...’ Granger was trembling. ‘Then what?’ Woods asked excitedly. ‘It got colder and colder, the snow fell harder, and soon enough, I was covered in a white camouflage. Then that agonising howling began. I could barely breathe. I don’t know if it was my anxiety or the air which grew thinner rapidly. It first came from the mountains to my sides, and then it got louder as it travelled to the forests close to me. I tried to blot out what was happening, but my body refused to respond to my mind. I felt a tension in my throat, and my insides were twisting. I closed my eyes for a few minutes, and when I opened them, I noticed the howling was growing fainter, as I went on my way. And then there was a quietness again, one which I have never experienced before. It was almost peaceful, and that filled me with a horrid feeling of suspense. Then I got stuck. I lifted my right foot, a mucusy gunk was stringing beneath. It was a dark reddish slime. I followed the horrible trail which ended with two footprints. It couldn’t have been human or animal, and the front bit was wider. My fear-stricken examination was halted, when I found a leaking Juniper tree. It was unlike those I had passed. There was no canopy of snow. It arched towards me with a menace. And its leaves were black. The branches made strange shapes beneath me, as I got closer... I saw...I saw corpses Woods, my god...their necks, looked like they had been through a blender. The blood flowed to the tree’s huge trunk, emulsifying with its sap, and below, there it was. Holding the earth still with its force. Drinking from a fountain of despair, painting its wide and powerful teeth with crimson. My knees buckled. I hopelessly prayed for the floury layer of snow, to kill the sound, but I hit rock. A deep guttural cry rumbled through the valley, and its mammoth of a head, jolted towards me. I can’t describe how horrifying it was to realise what it felt to be prey. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. Wherever I turned, I couldn’t shake off the wet smell of a rotting carcass right behind me. I ignored it, and kept running, propelled by my fear. I found the old caravan route. Two divergent lights stalled me, it was Kaleem. He held up my bag of supplies. I casually sat in the back seat of his four-wheeler, and never said a word the whole way back.’ Granger retreated to his palms and began to sob. Woods struggled for words. ‘That was... very...very disquieting,’ he said. ‘There’s a lot to uncover there. I think you could do with some professional help. I know a guy if you’re interested.’ ‘Don’t you think I am?’ Granger removed his hands from his face. His eyes were bloodied, crude and bruised. ‘I’m not sure,’ Woods said inaudibly. A few minutes went past, and Granger mumbled, ‘Go on then, you corporate twat. You lot and your self-help bullshit,’ ‘That’s great, let me get the details for you. I’ll grab you a coffee on the way back.’ Woods put on his best smile and left. Outside his office, he stood in complete darkness. He tried to put the lights back on, but they wouldn’t work. Woods was struggling to move. A thick slime was glued to his shoes. A cruel odour came from behind.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/15y9lcb/my_brother_was_murdered_in_the_himalayan/

scarystories

Horror_Sh47

Psychology phenomenon or ghost experience? You decide...

I had a jaw dropping experience awhile back I would like to share to see if I could get any answers as to what this could have been. **Situation:** I was home alone dog sitting and after a few days in I had one odd experience that had me question my sanity. I was in the kitchen plugging in my phone where all of a sudden clear as day I could hear in a female hummed/vibrating single note tone the phase: "Come on \_\_\_\_ (my name)". I couldn't tell the direction of the source but I presumed it was the front door or garage as I was guessing it was the next sitter wanting in the house as I always had it locked. I looked around outside and no one was there (the other person didn't come till the next day, so it wasn't them). **My Thoughts:** Personally I feel that it could have just been the voice in my head as I was expecting there to be the sitter at the door needing to get let in but the amount of disconnection from the words coming to my ears and my own thoughts while it happening threw me off as then I would have had at least 2 voices at once in my head going on at once, which is unlikely of me. This leads me to the idea that either we may be more powerful than we think being able to fool ourselves with more than one clear conversation at once, or some ghost just wanted to pop in.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tm0afy/psychology_phenomenon_or_ghost_experience_you/

TrueScaryStories

Entire_Night_2318

I don’t know if you’d call this sleep paralysis but…

So this has happened a few times before. The first time this happened is when I used to live in the house I moved out of. I woke up at around 4 am and couldn’t move. I could open my eyes or anything and I could hear myself calling out for my mum. I think I was dreaming but it sounded like I was yelling, then when I fully woke up I was whispering “mum”. That was the first time. The second time was in the old house. I woke up in the day and couldn’t sit up in bed. It was like someone or something was holding me down. It didn’t last long probably about 30 seconds. The last time it happened was in the house that I am in now. I woke up around 12am and again couldn’t move or open my eyes. It was scary and it didn’t last long but I was scared to go back to sleep after. I don’t know if you’d call this sleep paralysis but it was scary and I hope it stops

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tkkyg8/i_dont_know_if_youd_call_this_sleep_paralysis_but/

TrueScaryStories

[deleted]

Continued Sleep Paralysis

This story didn’t happen last night but a dream I had reminded me of a pair of sleep paralysis filled nights a few years ago when I was around 23. At the time I had my own apartment and had no sort of weird or eerie experiences there. One random night, however, I fell asleep and soon after woke up to my body feeling like a heavy weight was adhering me to my bed. Because of my first sleep paralysis encounter when I was five, I learned to NEVER fall asleep with the bedroom door open. Although during this instance, when I looked around the room, I could see the door was cracked open. I know for certain that I had closed it. As I stared at the door, my eyes started to play tricks on me. From the door, my room looked to be slowly..rotting? Like the paint and pieces of the wall was slowly curling away and falling off, eventually it began to look like flesh in my very dimly lit room. Accompanying the rot was this very low humming, almost chant like. Very quiet I almost didn’t hear it but as my room’s walls morphed and unfurled, I began to hear more voices making this low humming sound in unison. Once the transformation of my room finished, my eyes darted towards my door as I heard it creak open slightly. This scared me enough to make me forcefully close my eyes and when I opened them up, everything looked back to normal again and I was able to safely drift back to sleep. I thought that was a freaky dream and shared it with my friends the next day, relieved that it was over. Exactly one week later, however, it began again. When I awoke this time, there was a girl in a white dress sitting on the right side of the bed with her back to me. Think of The Ring, except her hair and clothes were more well taken care of. Disturbed enough from the girl, I was distracted from my door slowly opening again, but in this case, it actually was opening fully. Noticing this movement, my eyes quickly moved to watch what monstrosity may spill into the room. The same happened as what had happened in the week before: the walls rotting away and a now choir sounding harmonization of hums. In the doorway I could make out a humanoid figure that looked EXACTLY like the figure I had seen back when I was five. It slowly shifted towards my bed with the humming growing louder following it. Shivering in my sheets, still unable to scream, squeal, squeak, or speak I was forced to watch this near invisible entity approach me. The form, or what I could make out of it, stood over me, and I observed its “hand” approach its “face” which resulted in the humming immediately ceasing and turning into a group of “shhhh”. I tried closing and opening my eyes again which resulted in everything going back to normal just as the week prior. I didn’t get much sleep for the next few nights following.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tk4uzm/continued_sleep_paralysis/

TrueScaryStories

Charlie_CW

I think something's outside

This is happening right now at the time I'm writing. My grandparents have a cast iron triangle bell on their front porch and for the past hour I've been hearing something hitting the bell twice on and off. It's a little windy right now I'll admit, but it's just so consistent that it's kind of worrying me. I've lived here for three years now, and I've never heard that before, or at least have never noticed it. I don't think it's the wind due to the fact that there's nothing near it that it could be hitting, and it got louder (or at least a bit more aggressive?) when I closed my window. We have a ring camera, but my nana's phone turns off automatically after a certain time and she doesn't get the motion notification until morning.I'm just worried that there's something out there.I'll keep you updated if any more info comes up. Small update now:Obviously I'm alive, nothing too intense happened last night, however we found a dead bird on our front porch this morning.I don't know if the bird flew into the door (we have a glass window on our front door plus it was windy and dark out) or if someone put it there. I'm waiting on my nana to get off of work to review the footage from our ring camera. Update number two: So, it turns out that it was just a kid messing with us. I mean, that's not too bad, but the part that's really bothering me is the dead bird. Why the hell would someone leave that? I'm gonna sleep with my window closed tonight, and just to be sure we double checked all of the doors and windows in the house to make sure we're all clear. Hopefully this will be the final update, but if anything happens I'll make another post or just keep updating to this one: So far nothing's happened again. However someone kept walking across our front yard in the middle of the night and making the dogs bark last night but so far nothing else has happened and I think we're good for now. I think it's just a mentally ill individual or a creepy kid with a sick sense of humor.Either way, I've got a phone, a pocket knife and a stick if anything does happen.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tj5ea4/i_think_somethings_outside/

TrueScaryStories

AshKetchep

I think I saw the devil

A long while Ago when my nephews long about 30 mins away from my town. We say something in the back yard A little background info. So our whole family was pretty close and still is. Me, my bother (who is only one year older then me), my 4 nephews (who are all younger then I am) and my niece (who is one year younger), all used to play together. One night when we were staying at my eldest brother’s house, where 3 of my nephews lived. We were all playing with paper planes. It was dark and we had nothing else to do and just finished watching the movie paper planed. We wanted to have a comp who could make the best plane and get the furthest. We were playing in the hallway inside at first, but my brother and one of my nephews wanted to go out the back to see it they could get the plane to go further. They were pretty competitive and were the best at the game My brother throws his plane first and as my nephews goes to throw his. We all see a tall, black figure standing near the back gate. The gate was pretty far from the house but it scared the shit out of all of us. 2 of my nephews said they seen a man in a black hat and coat. We told our mums the next day and they say we saw the devil. We still don’t know what we saw but we definitely saw something.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tj96hq/i_think_i_saw_the_devil/

TrueScaryStories

[deleted]

A story about how I think my mother is losing her absolute fucking mind…

Hi, This is my first time posting, I wanted to talk about how I think my mother is slowly going insane or maybe I just need to rant? or maybe it's both. Anyway, this all started back when the Covid-19 pandemic started in 2020. Around this time people were working on their houses or gardening or working out all normal things, right? well, my mom had got into gardening around April 2020 and wanted to make a garden from scratch in our backyard. I had also helped her a small bit. Everything was pretty much okay... Then around March 2020, she'd ask what app I was on, on my phone. I had told her it was TikTok and that it was pretty fun and told her about it basically. She had asked me to create an account for her and I did and showed her around the app and told her what does what and after that, she'd send me TikTok's about gardening, animals, and other fun things. Eventually, she started getting these videos about people just posting about God or edits of Gods, She saw people creating shrines and stuff and got into that stuff. She started telling me about it too. Ok, to get off topic a bit I am not religious at all and don't mind people that are religious. So I had told her to please not talk to me about God and that if she wants to get into it, it's all her choice but to just leave me out of it. Later on, she started asking me to help her make a shrine, well it's called something else in my language, and don't know how to describe it in English, shrine is the closest I can describe it. I had told her no but she kept asking so I had said yes I'd help her to make her happy, Once it was all done she was fine for a while just doing her daily tasks... Then out of the blue, she started telling me that she saw some videos on TikTok about priests talking about the "right way to pray" and said she's going to listen to them and pray the way the priests said to do it. So I told her it was her choice again to have fun. So she would pray for an hour in the morning and an hour at night, again I didn't mind she was doing her own thing. Then she started to clean the kitchen sink and not let anyone touch it because she needed "uncontaminated water for God" so she can clean some stuff that belongs to the shrine she made. I thought this was dumb and that what if someone needed the kitchen sink while she was praying for her hour, she said that she didn't care and that no one is to touch it in the house after she cleans it until she's done. My brother had accidentally put a dirty dish in the sink one day after she was done cleaning the sink and she threw a FIT over it... Everyone including my dad had told her she's being dramatic. Fast forward a couple of months to I believe was December of 2020 she started rambling on about how onions and garlic and meat are made from evil and that she won't be eating it anymore and for this, I did get annoyed and had told her "don't you think what you're saying is a bit crazy? because a lot of food items have those" and she said "no I watched a video about a priest talking about it" and again I told her to do whatever and to leave me out of it. She then went on with her new diet while the rest of the household was doing their own thing. Then one day I wanted to make some chicken at home because it was close to Christmas and I wanted to make some tandoori chicken and she had gotten mad and was like "No you can't make chicken in this house because it brings evil into your body and makes people angry" and I gave her a straight face and was like "that's the most bizarre thing I've ever heard in my life" We had an argument about it but of course, she won because she acted like she'd die if I brought chicken into the home so my brother and I just started eating out. It's not like I could make anything while she wasn't around because she wouldn't let anyone touch the kitchen and say she's going to make the food. Then I had started noticing some of the food she used to make started to taste different than it used to so I had asked her are we out of some ingredient and she had said no and after some watching her cook I realized she stopped adding certain ingredients to slowly make the rest of the house have the same diet as her. So this caused another argument... I had told her that she can't just make a choice for others and force a diet on someone without asking or talking about it with them and she went on and denied doing anything of the sort. So this went on until the middle of 2021 with arguments on and off about her pushing her way onto everyone else and then she suddenly started being mean to our dogs. We have two dogs a 5 years old border collie and a 6 year old toy poodle. Our poodle loves to cuddle and sit with people and she had started yelling and literally screaming at him to get off her because he was making her "unholy and unclean for God" and did the same thing with our other dog whole loved to jump on people when he wants to play. My dad and I had asked her why is she acting like this and that they just love her and want to cuddle or play and she obviously had no answer for this and was like "I just don't want them to touch me" Okay so my mom has grown up with animals all her life so it's not like shes never been around them before and shes been around our dogs since they were puppies so everyone was pretty shocked and annoyed she was suddenly acting like this. So everyone got used to this new routine of hers and just did their own thing. My brother and I had started eating about more in August of 2021 because we just didn't want to deal with our mom. Fast-forwarding again to November of 2021 we had gone to a family friend's house for thanksgiving and she was telling them about how she has found God and how they should do what she's doing and they had kindly told her that she's doing too much and they will continue praying like they usually do. Then fast forward to now March 2022 on March 9th to 11th she had sat in her praying room for 3 days STRAIGHT and had not come out and everyone in the house was worried and thinking what shes doing and I went and checked and was outside the room door and just hear her laughing and talking with someone in a low voice so I open the door and shes in there by herself just sitting there... I had asked her what shes doing and she said "Gods talking to me, So I'm talking to him" and I told her pictures don't talk and to come downstairs and eat something because she hasn't eaten in 3 days!! She said she'd come downstairs in a bit and I left and then 2 hrs later I get a call from her saying that she couldn't breathe and that she couldn't feel her arm and that shes going to die and Gods coming to take her. And at this point shes scaring the crap out of my brother, So I told her that if she doesn't get up and come downstairs I gonna take all these pictures and throw them in the trash. I wouldn't do that but needed to say something to get her out... So that gets her moving and she comes downstairs. She sits on the couch for a bit and I give her some water and then a couple minutes later shes telling me to call 911 and I told her that shes walking, breathing, and talking and that I'll just drive her and that's what I did. I drove her to the emergency section of the hospital. On the way there she started saying things like that God lied to her and that she was deceived and that when she gets back shes going to donate those pictures and stop basically. I had told her that's fine and was a little happy that things could go back to normal now. She was shaking and crying all night and I sat in the parking lot all night and my brother was inside with her because they were only allowing one person to sit with her because of covid. My dad was at work and had work the next day so he just stopped by for a bit and then took me and my brother home. And then the next day I woke up and drove back to the hospital to check on her and she was just sitting there laughing and chuckling and saying that shes ok and that God was just playing a prank on her. I was livid and told her this isn't funny and that she had family all the way from the U.S. to India worried for her all fucking night and that I missed my calculus test because of her. And then she goes and says that shes gonna keep the pictures and continue praying now and I told her no that me and dad are going to go donate those damn pictures. Even her sisters told me to keep her away from the pictures and to just donate them. So when my dad got home that night me and him packed up all the pictures and put them in the trunk of our car and would donate them the next day. The next day I saw her grab the pictures and start putting them in the room again and my dad got angry and told her no and then she proceeded to be like I'll just do small prayers for 20 mins now and be done with it and that she would move them to the small closet in our house that is empty. But of course, she lied. Went right back to what she was doing and but now sitting there much much much LONGER just crying laughing and talking with "God". We all ignored her for a week but then one day she told me that God told her that apparently shes this "goddess" that was born on earth (Ik this sounds ridiculous). last night my dad had lost it and got angry and told her she lied and now she spends all her fucking days just sitting there and LITERALLY staring at a wall or those damn pictures. My dad said he's going to collect the pictures now and go donate them now and that it was final and she said "no ones allowed to touch them but me, If my God is leaving so am I" and out of frustration with her I told her to take the pictures and leave then and we'll see how far she gets in life while on the streets with them, so she grabs a bag and goes into the closet and closes the door. We stood outside for 10 mins and my dad said he doesn't hear her packing those pictures and for me to check on her and then she opens the door and says "I'm not leaving you can't kick me out!" and we told her that no ones kicking her out but if she wants to leave with the pictures she can. (No one will kick her out, We just want to take them from her because the way shes starting to act). I even told her to get in the car because I'm taking her back to the emergency room because I remember the nurse told me if she started acting like this again to bring her back. and this woman called the police and lied saying we're taking her freedom and abusing her, as shes yelling she glaring at my dad and my brother and I, and when I mean glaring shes purposefully making her eyes bigger to look scary and I couldn't help myself and laugh in her face. and when the police arrived they checked everything out and even said they can't do anything because shes was obviously not hurt and they talked to me and my dad the cop was even like have you taken her to a psychiatrist and we told him that I did make an appointment but my mom didn't go. So now it's the next day she locked herself in the closet with those pictures and wont come out. Everyone has ignored her all day so far... She's literally convinced herself that shes a higher-powered being born on earth and honestly at this point I'm so done with her... Now if this doesn't sound like insanity idk what this is then. Thank you for reading, and please feel free to leave an opinion on what to do. I will keep you guys updated if anything else happens in the future.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tiw9of/a_story_about_how_i_think_my_mother_is_losing_her/

TrueScaryStories

_bigfootwithinternet

My first video

I posted my first narrating scary story video on YouTube I hope you like it https://youtu.be/O5tPaz3_76E

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tj5qqi/my_first_video/

TrueScaryStories

mrhauntedhouse

Hello All!

I am making a YouTube channel based on true scary stories! If you or someone you know has any scary stories to share, I'd love to hear them!

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tismg1/hello_all/

TrueScaryStories

Skywallentertainment

Narrating Horror Stories

hey all, i am start a youtube channel for narrating true Horror/weird/un-explainable events stories if you have a story that you want to be shared let me know :)

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tilno2/narrating_horror_stories/

TrueScaryStories

Creepiest_Tale

scary baby toy

My brother had a little bowling pin toy that when it was pushed it whent hahahe it went off a lot during the night and one night it went off and said hahaha in a deep voice then my dad's phone went off and the caller ID was 666 and my mom and dad where confuse because the batteries where out when this happend needless to say that thing went in the garbage the next morning

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/ti742n/scary_baby_toy/

TrueScaryStories

2yeeeyeeeee

Skinwalker Father

This happened about a week and a half ago, I live in Washington State and I’ve sort of always been obsessed with cryptic stuff. Just a little background about me, I’m a male 14 year old, I’m homeschooled so i don’t leave the house much and I live with my mother and father. It was March 7th, 2022 at about 12:00am, I was just listening to a old Jenna Marbles and Julien Solomita podcast from like 3 years ago and playing some video games, (red dead redemption 2 if you wanna be exact) I was getting kinda tired and I had just finished eating a snack so I went to go brush my teeth and wash my face. I did all my business in the bathroom and came back to my room, when I opened the door, my cat was up in his cat tower, which is right next to my window, and his back was arched up, his hair on his back was all up, and he was hissing, which I’ve never heard him do. I look out the window and standing there is my dad, which gave me a sigh of relief for a second. Until I realized it wasn’t my dad… it was taller than my dad and it’s smile was weirdly big, oh yeah, it was smiling. My dad never just smiles at me. He’s never come up to my window before. I said “What the fuck is that” I ran out of my room, crying and shaking obviously cause I’ve never seen anything like that before. I went to my mom who was sleeping on the couch and shook her awake, I told her to go check if my dad was in the bedroom and she asked why and I told her I’d tell her after she checked and indeed, he was sleeping in the bedroom. I told her what happened and she sort of believed me sort of didn’t, so she went into my room and checked out my window, whatever it was was gone, she checked all the other windows and doors and nothing was there, she grabbed my cat and we slept out on the couch that night, all huddled together. Today was the first day I was able to go back into my room (March 17th) and i still haven’t told my dad about it. I have no idea what it was that I saw but the only think I could come up with was a skinwalker. My boyfriend told me to tell my experience on here so what the hell. Anyway, i don’t think I’ll ever forget this and I’m still terrified that I’m gonna end up seeing it again, i looked behind my shoulder like 10 times while writing this lol. Wtf

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tguo8e/skinwalker_father/

TrueScaryStories

0809874lil

Has anybody ever had any insane run ins with stalkers or home invaders?

The worst thats ever happened to me is when I was awake late one night, and one of my dogs suddenly perked up from her sleep as if she heard something. She then essentially did a couple rounds around the main floor, stopping and sniffing at the front door, then a big window at the side of the house, then the back door, then my bedroom window, and then lastly the living room window. I was so fuckin freaked out, I couldn’t sleep that night. I almost KNEW she was following the smell or sound of someone or something circling around our house. Unfortunately it was confirmed the next morning because upon looking, there were NUMEROUS human footprints circling the house. But after all that, like I said before, that’s all that happened. No forced entry anywhere. I’m putting together a new Story Narration video for next week’s [YouTube](https://youtube.com/channel/UC_S50vUtz3D_RDYt2eOtUKA) post, about either True stories of Stalkers or Home Invaders so if you have any you’d be willing to share, it would be much appreciated! Thanks!

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tgzow3/has_anybody_ever_had_any_insane_run_ins_with/

TrueScaryStories

true_descent

I saw the grim reaper

This isnt a long story and you might see this story on a couple other sub reddits bc i dont know whats happening me and i want some answers. I know i was young when this happed not sure how young but young. “Isaiah get down here” my mom called me to the basement to help her with her computer a mac i think. When i got down there i helped her with her computer and chilled there for a bit and having a friendly conversation. Soon my younger brother came down to see what we where doing i heard his footsteps but they where louder than usual. Then they got faster and even more louder. Soon everything went black. I Then saw the grim reaper he was a bit off tho he dint have his scyth. He over looked at me and reached his hands towards me his hands came out of his sleeve all bones. I fell back on the floor in shock and everything went from black back to this reality. And the grim reaper disapears. I have never seen him again but i have been left with the after effect every now and then i hear people screaming, shouting, crying and dogs barking. Its not very often and quite rare but when i do hear them i get paranoid for the whole night.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tgq6et/i_saw_the_grim_reaper/

TrueScaryStories

Fidge2234

The Shadow Lady

Some Quick context I’ve only had two experiences can’t say it was paranormal, might of been night tears. But my father has seen shadow people as long as he can remember, either standing at the end of his bed or walking through the house My experience happened when I was 16 so about 6 years ago. I can remember everything so vividly still. I can’t explain what happened but feel free to tell me what you think! Me and my girlfriend were hanging out in my room in the basement. We fell asleep and the next thing I remember is waking up in my very dark room with my girlfriend crying at the side of my bed. She is a taller girl with long black hair. I ask her “is everything okay love” I didn’t get an answer so I tried to pull her face to me so I could see her. When I did this I could feel her tears hitting my hand but she pulled away. I told her “it’s okay love I’m here” then I started running my fingers through her hair, this always helps calm her down. I could feel her hair going through my fingers pulling apart small knots. After about 2 minutes of this I told her to come back to bed. She laid back down and I cuddled her till I fell back asleep. I woke up in the morning by myself. I couldn’t find my girlfriend anywhere so I called her. She told me that I dropped her off at home at 10 pm that night and it wasn’t her. Who or what was this? 2 months later I had a nightmare, where something was trying to drag me away. I woke up and there was something pulling on my arm from under my bed. I couldn’t see what it was because my room was so dark. I was able to pull my arm up and turned on my lights. My forearm had red scratches on it. I grabbed my small pocket knife and looked under my bed were I was grabbed from. There was nothing, no one, anywhere.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tgc1gq/the_shadow_lady/

TrueScaryStories

Murky-Concept4797

I'm starting a scary story narrating channel on YouTube.

Hi everyone, I have been wanting to start a YouTube channel since I love to listen to scary stories, I thought I could make my own channel If you have stories of your own, it'd be really helpful if you share it on here if you want me to include it in my videos. You can change names in your stories if you want to be anonyms. It could be paranormal, stalker, harassment, dating, stranger encounters etc. Anything that is scary. I will send you a link to the video if you are feathered. I am trying to get multiple stories before I start. If you have any advice for a beginner like me, I would appreciate it thank you for the stories and the support. [Mr. Hauntedhouse - YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCuQtvyJtb_kq54Awbw42rPw/featured)

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tg248i/im_starting_a_scary_story_narrating_channel_on/

TrueScaryStories

mrhauntedhouse

what just happened

So you'll have to forgive spelling errors and the like, I'll try to clean it up as I go. I'm writing this on my phone at work and still a bit shaken up. So let me preface this by saying I'm an overnight guard at a hospital, I've been here about 5 years or so. Overall I've been working night security in various settings for about 12 years. Before that I was a marine. My point is I'm used to odd situations and the general bumps in the night. The hospital where I work has had its share of weird shit happen, as many old buildings do, but nothing too crazy. Tonight was different though. Part of the job is patrolling and unlocking this one really old building, as in one of the first buildings in the city old. It's currently used as the college of nursing but at night it's deserted. Well about 3am or so it's peaceful (won't say the q word) in the hospital so I wander over to grt the unlocks out of the way. I'm in this building alot, probably 2 to 5 times a week, every week, for the last 5 years. Ive gotten used to the creepiness and I honestly kinda like the quiet. Tonight was odd though, as soon as I approached I got this odd feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was that feeling of being watched by a predator, any one who's spent time in the woods knows the feeling. Your hackles raise so to speak and your mind screams "get out if there". I stop outside and scan the street behind me and the courtyard I'm standing in, nothing obvious but I can't shake the feeling. I go inside and lock the doors behind me making a note to unlock them last. That feeling doesn't go away though. As I'm walking the floors one by one it only gets worse as I move towards the older parts of the building. Now I know I'm the only one in this building. I've been all through the first floor and all the entrances are locked up tight. You can only do that with a key. As I grt into the upper floors though I start hearing things. It starts eith footsteps, hard to tell because it's like their matching my cadence. What gets my attention is that it sounds like hard soled shoes, not like the boots I'm wearing. I turn back and search the halls but absolutely nothing. Then I hear a door slam from the hall I judt came from. I run back, maybe took me a few seconds to the door, nothing. It opens to an empty auditorium which I thoroughly search, still nothing. At this point I shrug it off, old building and all. Maybe the pipes were clicking and I thought foot steps. Maybe I missed a door being open and it rattled closed as I walked by. I continue on with that feeling getting stronger and stronger. Im in the stairs to the 4th floor and I'm taking a second to breathe and mess with my phone. I hear a door below me slam shut and the distinct sound of footsteps echoing in the stairwell. I pull my radio to call dispatch and let them know some ones in the building. It beeps telling me the batteries dead and won't call out.... Shit. I call on my phone and dispatch says they'll send some guys. I wait but I'm not hearing any more footsteps, no doors no, sounds at all. I walk all the way back down and back up to 4 and find no one. Now I'm second guessing myself and anticipating the coming jokes on my behalf. I move along figuring I'll finish the last floor and work my way down and meet up with the other guards. I open the door to the 4th floor and everything is different. I'm not talking about a change in atmosphere or anything like that. I'm saying that the entire floor, which consists of old offices used for storage and whatnot, is completely different. White painted walls now have wood paneling, the clutter is gone replaced by old lab and medical equipment, filing cabinets instead of boxes. The biggest change? At the end of the hall, in each corner, are two leather bound chairs and two men sitting in them talking to each other. They stop and look at me as I stand there holding the door in stunned silence. I blink and it's all gone, right back to normal. I don't understand it, one second it's completely different from the hundreds of times I've stepped onto that floor. Next second poof, back to normal. Instinctively I try my radio again remembering the dead battery as I hit the button... And it works. I call out that I'm on the fourth floor and I need units up here as I start to Check through each office. Of course everything's normal when every one grts there and I'm still left wondering what the hell judt happened. We finish checking the building and I catch my fair share of bullshit from the other guys. I go down to dispatch because I know we have cameras on those floors and I want to know what happened. I get to dispatch and we review the cameras. We see the door open as I come in then the feed freezes entirely for about 8 seconds. Not necessarily unusual but not very common, especially on those cameras. That tends to happen in more commonly traveled areas. So the dispatcher, a man who's been here since grass first sprouted, asks me what I saw. I describe it to him and he says "weird, that's how it looked back in the 80s, before they redid the lower floors and those were all labs for the college". At this point I'm just speechless and decide to save myself from further embarrassment and say I must just be tired and seeing things. I know that's not the case though. I'm wide awake and I know what I saw. I know what I heard through the rest of the building too. I just don't know how to explain it. Every one has their weird experiences in the at building but man, this oen really threw me.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tfe4x3/what_just_happened/

TrueScaryStories

moshpitmachine

The scariest moment of my life.

Repost:My op account was banned unfortunately. No idea why. So this happened to me and my little brother (we'll name him Dylan for confidentiality purposes) when we lived together a few years back. I was at 25 year old male and my little brother was 19,we were relaxing playing some halo 3 on the xbox,smoking a bowl just being brothers hanging our usual daily day's off from work. It was a Saturday night in the mid summer of 2009. We lived in a quiet neighborhood, neighbors were just far enough apart you had privacy and they never got into your business. But we all knew each other as our parents lived in the house for years and it was our childhood home. When my parents retired they moved off and left the house to us so we never had to worry about a roof over our head. Now our house is at the end of the cul-de-sac with a garage door to the right and our front door is up 4 steps to the left of the window between our garage door but from our kitchen you can see straight out when the curtains are open. This particular night however would grow to haunt me and my brother to this day,after a few hardcore hours of gaming it's like 3 in the morning my brother would need to get up a stretch his legs and relax his hands,he went down stairs to grab some water and a snack,when suddenly Dylan comes running up the stairs and locks the door freaking the total hell out,I look at him confused as fuck barking "Bro wtf is wrong?", with a pail ghost white face he looks at me and says "There is a guy on the forch with his hands cuffed to the window smiling from ear to ear." Then we hear five knocks at the door,we froze in our tracks backing slowly away from the door,I get under my bed and grab the machete and bat I keep under my bed in case I ever needed to defend myself (I watch to many zombie movies),I give the bat to Dylan as he's taller than me and has longer arms be more beneficial to him. We tip toe back to the bedroom door and unlock it,we crack the door open just enough to see out of, then suddenly the man knocks over and over and over before you know it he had knocked at least thrifty times and then it just stopped,I told Dylan to grab my cell phone and dial 911,he did and dispatch sent officers our way immediately. While on the phone the man went around the back of our house because we heard screaming coming from the back yard,the man was there, just looking at the bedroom window with that creepy ass smile,we stayed just out of the line of sight peaking from the corners, suddenly the man takes off in full on sprint and threw himself into our back door,we holler "Oh shit he's trying to break in our back door!" to the dispatch officer. She tell units to step it up as he's trying to make entry. We hear the sirens closing in faster and faster as the man continues to bash himself into our door,on the third bash we hear the door crash open,we stay as quiet as possible listening to things in the kitchen being smashed to hell and the man yelling "Come out,come out, wherever you are!" I whisper to dispatch that he's downstairs in the kitchen and she tells officers he's made entry and one unit said he was close. We ready our bat and machete as we hear foot steps creaking up the stairs,then blue lights can be seen illuminating the house,as we hear "police come out with your hands up,make your presence known!" The man books it down the stairs and gets tackled by officer and handcuffed after a bit of a struggle. We came out when the officer's cleared the house and made sure it was safe. The man was high on meth just looking to rob us to get another quick fix,we're so thankful for officer arrived when he did,we thanked until the moment he left. He still came by from time to time to check on us and even played video games with us a few times. I still get nightmares of that creepy ass smile,and to whomever you are creepy smiley man. I hope me never meet again.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tf99uo/the_scariest_moment_of_my_life/

TrueScaryStories

DaRk-LeG05928

I found someone living under my couch

I was lucky enough to live a large house when I was a kid (my father was a physical therapist). My house had a side room towards the back side of the first floor. My siblings called it the “2nd living room” because thats basically what it was. It had an old recliner, a small table, and a mid-sized couch. Thats it. We hardly ever sat in there. One morning, I woke up sick. Told my mom, and she told me to take the day off from school and stay home. My siblings had to be at school, and my parents worked, so that meant I had the house to myself. I laid around in bed for a few hours, until around 10:30am when I heard steady walking coming from my first floor. I thought nothing of it at first as I just assumed maybe my mom went in late like she did sometimes. I needed something to eat anyway, so I stood up and went downstairs to the kitchen. I made it about 3 feet in front of my kitchens walk-in doorway when I locked eyes with, not my mom, but a 6 foot tall man, wearing raggy and ripped up clothes. I was frozen in fear. I just stood there. It was only for a few seconds but it felt like hours had past. The guy just stood there and watched me too, no expression or anything. I eventually pulled myself out of the shock and bolted for my bedroom upstairs. I didn’t hear him following me, but I got into my bedroom and locked the door and moved my dresser in front of it anyway. I pulled out my phone and instead of calling 911 like I should have done, I called my mom. I screamed into the phone, telling her someone was in the house trying to kill me. She told me to not leave my room for any reason and call the police, so I did. 15 minutes later, the police finally show up, as I could see through my bedroom window. I watched them enter the house before I left my room to run down to them for safety. I told them everything that happened. They did a quick search of the home, and found nothing. Not a single person or broken window/door. My parents both came home shortly after, and were absolutely furious that the guy was not caught. I was extremely angry as well, but also relieved I was alive. The police began packing their things, but as one of the last officers was on the way out, he noticed a Walmart bag sticking out from under our couch. It was that damn couch in the side room. And well…what do you know? We found hundreds of trash bags and week old rotting food under the coach, along with some other personal items like wipes, water bottles, and even a bag of piss. A f*cking bag of piss. Whoever that man in the kitchen was, had been living under our couch for weeks. I cant comprehend how none of my family members smelt any of the garbage that was piled up under there the entire time. The fact he never made a single noise under there also baffles the hell out of me. We’ve since cleaned that room out completely and turned it into a breakfast nook, with wooden chairs, so no more shitheads can break in and find free housing in them. I go off to college in a few months so I wont have to live in fear of that incident happening again much longer. But I still think about it every time I wake up with a cough.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tecbl7/i_found_someone_living_under_my_couch/

TrueScaryStories

BlazeTechnology

a shadowy figure

First off, (all of this is true) I was about 9 mabey 10 at the time. My family and I lived on a large farm out in the middle of nowhere. It was a clear night and a full moon. I had gotten up to grab a drink from our kitchen when I saw through our large deck glass doors, a dark,shadowy figure standing out in the middle of one of the paddocks, at first I didn't think much of it but I remember standing there for at least 10 minutes just looking at it though the windows and wondering what it was before buggering it and going back to bed. To this day I still have no idea what was out there and quite frankly don't really want to know

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tejo8u/a_shadowy_figure/

TrueScaryStories

Freestmemes

The man in the R.V.

The other day, I remember this one little story that happened to one of my friends' is old neighbors. His old neighbor lived in a really small RV Park. Anyways, he like to go back there to visit her a lot, since they were pretty close. I was his ride at the time, so I would usually end up hanging out there with them. The small RV park was located right off a main road / Highway that led directly into one of our small, historic townships. The park was shaded by mostly tall oak trees, so it was often nice and Breezy in the hot summers. Since it was such a small neighborhood in the RV Park, everyone had no choice, but to know everyone. While we were hanging out over there one day, my friend's former neighbor and her other neighbor started commenting on the fact that there were tons of ants. That was unusual to them, since they had lived there for years and never had that problem before. Eventually, after dealing with the ants being absolutely everywhere for a couple days, my friend's old neighbor decided to go outside and try to track the ant trails to see where they were maybe coming from. She ended up tracking them to an RV that was one space away from hers. There, she found several trails of them both going into and coming from this man's RV! Every one in the little neighborhood knew that the man who lived in that RV, was somewhat of a hoarder and he was not clean at all. So, she knocked on his door a few times, but he didn't seem to be there so she decided to tape a note on his door for when he got home. In the note, she asked that he please have his son maybe pick up some ant traps, and also to have him maybe clean up a little! The man who lived there was quite weak and ill with MRSA. I believe MRSA is a disease that can be passed through bodily fluids and such and I also believe it is eventually fatal. Thankfully though, he had his son around to do his errands and some other things to help care for him. A couple days after she'd left the note on his door, she got a knock on her door and it was the man's son. What he had to say was the grossest and most horrifying thing to me. What had happened was that when the man's son came by to take his dad to an appointment, he knocked but didn't get an answer. As he was waiting for his dad to answer, he realized that he hadn't heard from him in almost a week. I guess his dad usually called him at least every other day or so. Since his dad wasn't answering him, his son went to go grab the spare key that his dad had given to him previously. When he let himself into his dad's RV, he made a morbid and terrifying discovery. He found his dad's decomposing body, still in his bed, totally covered in ants! He ran out of there, and it didn't take long for a neighbor to find him sobbing next to his vehicle. Within minutes, the whole small community had heard the gruesome news. As it just so happened, I had taken my friend over there for us all to hang out again on the day his old neighbor had heard the terrible news. We didn't even get a chance to sit down before she was already telling us about it. As she was telling us about all the ants on his body, I just couldn't help but to think about how ants come into your house, crawl all over your sinks, counters and dishes, and even in your food! So, for whatever reason, the ants were truly the most horrific part to me. After all, MRSA can be passed through bodily fluids! We didn't go back there for awhile after hearing that. When we did though, they were still in the process of trying to move the RV out of there and that was after a man in a full hazmat suit spent days cleaning it out! The whole thing just kinda freaked us all out though, especially the damn ants, for real!

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/teebnm/the_man_in_the_rv/

TrueScaryStories

So-nora

Witnessed a 47-year-old guy attacking a 17-year-old with a knife in a sushi place.

This took place last month, on the 24th, in a sushi restaurant in Colombes, France. My ex and I decided to go eat dinner in this small sushi place we would often go to (we're on good terms and still see each other from time to time). We sat down near the entrance, I was facing the window. We had just started eating when a group of four 17-year-olds came in and sat at the table next to ours. They began having a conversation about some weird guy they encountered on their way to the restaurant. Apparently he had a problem with one of the kids, who I'll call Tom. I don't remember much about what they said, except that the guy claimed he'd come back for Tom. Tom had a motorcycle helmet, which he had put on the table next to him (this is important for later). I didn't think much of it and carried on eating. I don't remember how many people there were, but I'd say there were around 15 people. A few minutes later, I notice a guy at the window, and I hear the kids saying "*Holy shit, that's him.*" The guy was at the window, angrily gesturing Tom to come outside. Since Tom wasn't coming out, the guy opened the door and told him to come outside. Tom provoked him, telling him "*Baise ta mère*" (*go fuck your mom*, a common french insult). Then, the guy let go of the door, pulls out a knife from his pocket and charges at Tom. As soon as I saw the knife, my heart dropped. As the guy tried to stab Tom, he grabbed his helmet and strikes the guy with it. A fight breaks out in the middle of the restaurant, breaking everything. Our table was flipped, every plate and soy sauce container got smashed on the floor. Everyone started panicking, but no one could leave as it was a very small restaurant and they were fighting in front of the entrance, so everyone backed up in the corners behind their tables. Me and my ex did the same. I kept telling my ex that we were getting the fuck out of here, while she kept calling my name in panic, too scared to move. Realizing we couldn't leave, I just shielded her, staring at the fight. Tom and the guy were on the floor, Tom on top, the guy striking him in his back. I seriously thought that I was going to helplessly watch a 17-year-old get stabbed to death before my eyes. I was glued to the scene, fearing the sight of blood. Thinking Tom was getting stabbed repeatedly, I eventually turned around to my ex and put her head to my chest, telling her not to look. Two dads ended up breaking off Tom and the guy. One was this super muscular no-business dad and the other was a smaller, papa-bear type dad. The crazy guy was pushed out of the restaurant. He kept saying he was 47 years old, with kids, and that he'd kill Tom. The owner instructed us to pull down the roll up security gate since we were the closest to the key on the wall that controlled it. All of us were now safe inside the restaurant. It was a complete mess: food and sauce everywhere, tables all flipped and pushed to the side... The buff dad who broke off the fight was here with his wife, baby and 4-year-old daughter, who was bawling her eyes out. I felt so bad for her, having to witness this at such a young age. A couple called the cops, who arrived probably 3-5 minutes later since the station was a two-minute drive away from the restaurant. Cops entered the restaurant and started inspecting, asking questions, and went to see Tom, who got out of the altercation without a single scratch. Turns out the guy's knife was really cheap, and when Tom struck him with his helmet, it knocked the blade off the handle. The dude had kept hitting Tom with in the back with the handle, hence why I thought he was stabbing him. Tom did not seem affected by the situation at all. He had this smirk on his face. Felt like another day in the office for him. He looked the delinquent type, but still, I had expected him to be a little more affected by the situation. Either way, I was glad he was okay. Cops took us outside and started getting our statements. Midway through our statements, we all notice that a good twenty meters away, the cops had arrested the guy and were interrogating him. They eventually took him to the station. Tom and his friends explained the situation and what happened before they entered the restaurant. According to them, the guy was just leaning on a light pole close to where he was arrested, and when they passed by, Tom made eye contact with him. The guy then tried to intimidate Tom by doing that sudden head movement towards him to make him flinch, don't know what it's called. Tom did not react and just looked at him, which drove the guy nuts, who then said he'd come back for him. I honestly think they were telling the truth. From what we saw, the guy definitely looked like the type to want to kill someone just for looking at them the wrong way. The second dad who broke off the fight, the papa-bear one, was a sweetheart through the hole thing. He talked to everyone and comforted the 4-year-old girl, which was really nice to see. I think she'll be fine, she quickly stopped crying and referred to the guy as "*le voleur*" (*the robber*). She's obviously too young to understand, and I hope she'll forget this ever happened. Cops let us go after getting our information. They never called us, so I don't know what happened to the guy. Since the cameras in the restaurant were fake, they'll have to make do with our statements, and since we all had the same version, I hope this maniac is locked up for attempted murder. Edit: spelling

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/td9lg4/witnessed_a_47yearold_guy_attacking_a_17yearold/

TrueScaryStories

sxrryimblue

My Mom and the stranger Stranger

Once upon a time when I was about fifteen, my mom had unfortunately discovered the internet and the guys in the multitude of available chat rooms. I have to tell you that she was still married to and living with my dad and I at that time. They had been married almost 20 years back then. After several failed attempts at meeting up with multiple guys and girls, she finally met this one guy from Oregon. Soon after she started talking to him on the phone, he introduced her to his best friend, a woman who live near him. My mom had me speak to him on the phone, in an effort to sort of introduce us. But when he supposedly put her on the phone, it was obvious to me that it was the guy's voice, trying to sound like a woman! I told my mom, but of course, she didn't believe me. She was so convinced that was all was well with that, that she soon made plans for both of them to come down to our small California town, so she could meet up with them and have them stay at our house! When I heard that, I started getting really nervous. So, I was totally thankful when they didn't show up to meet her. She didn't hear from them for a few days, until the guy finally called her with some dumb excuse. But at that point, I was about done with all that, so I got on the phone and told him that I knew he was pretending to be the woman. You guessed it, he denied it all. Not long after that, my mom actually started mentioning her and I leaving my dad behind to go live up in Oregon with him! She told me she had already talked to the Local High School staff up there about getting me enrolled there! The Saving Grace was when he called a few nights later, pretty late. He told my mom that something terrible had happened to his best friend, the woman. He said that he hadn't been able to reach her for a few days and he had been worried, so he checked their local paper. He told us that according to the newspaper, she had been found stabbed to death in her home! That was pretty strange to me, considering that I was damned positive there was no her. It was always just him. I just knew it! So, a day later, I decided to go online myself, (dial up days), and check their local paper for the article the guy had mentioned. I couldn't find any article of the sort, so I ended up emailing the editor of that paper to inquire about the supposed murder that happened just a little over a week earlier. When she replied back that no such article existed, I explained the whole situation to her, via email. She replied to that, asking me for his name so that maybe she could look him up herself, so I gave it to her. It took her a few days to get back to me, but when she did, she told me that he was in fact, a dangerous man and not to even think of moving up there to be with him! Apparently, he had been charged with something like attempted manslaughter on his ex-girlfriend! To my great relief, my Mom finally listened to me when I showed her the emails between me and the newspaper editor lady. She left the computer room after that and called him to confront him. He tried to deny it, but she didn't fall for it and she told him that there was no way we would be moving up there to be with him! Since I did the necessary research, we dodged a major freaking bullet!

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/td1148/my_mom_and_the_stranger_stranger/

TrueScaryStories

So-nora

Hearing voices in my garden

This happened just yesterday, at the top of my garden theres a big shed which is actually a small bar. I was with my friend in the bar and it was maybe 8pm ish when we decided to leave but right before we opened the door we thought we heard voices, or to be more specific a voice, it was like one person was talking to themselves but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying or if it was a mans or womans voice, me and my friend were trying to listen through the door and we were certain it was coming from inside my garden. Eventually we got the confidence to open the door and look outside and right as we did the voice stopped, and there was no-one in my garden. Not the scariest story but it is really weird, thought I would share it.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/td2fq2/hearing_voices_in_my_garden/

TrueScaryStories

in_need_of_help_12

Night on the Hill

This Story is not mine but rather told to me by my Father. My Dad served in the United States Marine Corps during the Vietnam War. While overseas he was stationed in a place known as Nui Dat Son or as he called it Hill 55. One night he and another Marine were chosen for Night Watch and with it being Monsoon Season they were almost constantly getting wet from Rain. Wanting some kind of relief from a sudden Downpour they decided to rig up a rudimentary awning to let the water cascade away from them should it begin to rain. Using scrap ply wood and sawhorses they set to work. My Dad was carrying a rather large plywood slat when he heard a "Whoosh" sound followed by a *ping*. Looking around in confusion a second Whoosh was followed with a *Tick* sound. "Get down you idiot you're being shot at!" The other Marine shouted at him. My Dad drops to his belly as a series of bullets impact the ground around him. Clambering over to safety behind some sandbags the other once sleeping Marines emerge from their bunks and begins lighting up the Jungle with machine gun fire and search lights hoping to spot the Sniper. Unfortunately for them...or fortunately the rain had started obscuring their lights and around daybreak the Sniper fire had ceased. In the light of day my father went to retrieve the plywood slat and found about three or four inches above where his head would've been a Rifle round sticking in the thick wood.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tc70gq/night_on_the_hill/

TrueScaryStories

SkeetsDatadroid

True encounter with my creepy satanic clown lecturer

Hey all, hope this is ok to share here. So I had a strange experience about 12 years ago when I went to college, I basically had a lecturer reveal to me and some friends a strange twisted video in a very nonchalant way one day in class. Whilst being very strange at the time I was young and didn't really think anything more of it. Fast forward to the start of this year and I am sitting with my girlfriend and we are talking. We hear this \*honk\* noise outside of the window really randomly and are both quite confused, jokingly saying "must be an angry goose"... " or a clown " haha.... This sparked the memory of the clown lecturer I had at college. We decided to look him up and found out that he never stopped making creepy videos. I've made a little documentary type video about the whole thing and just want to share it places that people might find it interesting. Sorry if this self promoting isn't allowed and if not could you help redirect me to somewhere else I could share it? Thanks guys here it is if you are interested: [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i7ovoQNnMiA](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i7ovoQNnMiA)

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/tc3kt6/true_encounter_with_my_creepy_satanic_clown/

TrueScaryStories

hodlmeanon

Twenty Years Ago Me And My Son Went On A Camping Trip, Now I Wonder If He Ever Came Back

I remember it really clearly, it was about 20 years ago, back when we lived in Washington. My wife was never the outdoorsy type so when my son, Brandon, wanted to go camping it was always just me and him. That wasn’t bad though, it was good father-son time. It was a nice scenic drive on the way to the campsite. I remember Brandon asked me about the music on the radio and I spent an embarrassingly long time reminiscing about my high school days and what bands I was obsessed with back then. Eventually we reached our site and I got to work pitching our tent. Brandon waited patiently, he wasn’t the type to go running off or anything, and when it was all set up me and him went for a hike to take in the nature. It was really peaceful. The woods surrounding the campground were calm and serene, there wasn’t any animals out and about but every once in a while I would stop and point out a deer track or some droppings. It reminded me of when I was a kid spending time with my dad. I suppose I was about nine years old when I learned about the marvels of deer poop myself. As I looked at him I couldn’t help but see a younger version of myself. We had the same eyes, the same hair, and like most of the people in my family we had the same birthmark on our upper right arm. It was hard spending time with Brandon sometimes, I worked so often and sure, it was putting food on the table, but whenever I saw how fast he was growing without me around the guilt would start to well up inside me. Seeing him smile and laugh that day really uplifted my spirits though. I was here now, and that’s what mattered, is what I’d tell myself whenever the conversation lulled. As we were walking we suddenly found the trail leading out of the woods and into a beautiful view of the river. I was telling Brandon about erosion and how you could see the effects of the previous years floods on the riverbank when his expression suddenly changed. He pointed up to the sky and said “What’s that dad?” I looked up myself and found that I was just as confused as he was. There was, off in the distance, a dark, triangular, looking object. It hung in the sky perfectly still and then suddenly vanished. Not wanting to lose my reputation as a know it all dad I desperately searched for an explanation, before deciding that it must have been a helicopter and telling Brandon as such. He obviously didn’t believe me, and frankly, I didn’t believe myself either. By the time we got back to our tent the sun had already started to set. I got Brandon to help me collect some firewood and start up a fire. We roasted some hotdogs and marshmallows. We didn’t get to the scary stories, however, as Brandon started nodding off and I decided it was time for bed. I got Brandon into his sleeping bag and I crawled into mine right beside him. It was the shaking that woke me at first. I had been in an earthquake before but this was different, it was hard to describe. It was almost like someone was picking up the earth and the earth was trying to pull it back. I was still groggy, I reached out to see if Brandon was awake and I found his sleeping back empty. I wasn’t too panicked yet, like I said, he wasn’t the type to run off, and I always try to keep a level head. I stumbled out of the tent and walked towards where the flashlights were. Confident that I would find him near the fire trying to cope with the shaking. Then the lights happened. The whole campground was bathed in a bright, sickly, white light. It was blinding at first, and when my vision adjusted I realized that Brandon was nowhere to be found. That was when I started to panic. I grabbed a flashlight and started shouting his name. As I ran to the edge of the woods surrounding the campsite I tried looking for a source for the light, but I couldn’t see one. As I ran to the edge of the woods my pounding heart skipped a beat when I heard Brandon’s voice. He called out to me, “Dad! I’m over here!”. I rushed over, my happiness quickly abated when he started crying “Help! Somethings wrong!” I ran to the other side of the campsite and found him crouched away from me in a little ditch. The shaking had mostly subsided and I rushed over to him. He was facing away from the light and I put my hand on his back. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt?” I could hear him struggling for air. “Dad!” he finally cried, “something’s wrong… everything’s wrong…” his voice was weak. I reached to his hand and when I touched it alarm bells rang in my head. His skin was rubbery and wrinkly, like a halloween mask. I turned my flashlight on and his whole skin looked a horrid purple. “Brandon,” I muttered in shock. I turned him to face me and screamed. His face was emaciated, his eyes so sunken they looked like a skulls empty sockets. His jaw hanged open like the muscles that held it were worn and worthless. My whole body shook in terror. The shaking started back up again. This time even more violently. It seemed as if the ground was going to get ripped up and thrown into the sky. I didn’t know what to do. I grabbed Brandon and held him as close to me as I could. I found myself praying to a god I was never sure actually existed. Through gurgles and moans Brandon started to talk, “It hurts Dad… why does it hurt so much… help me Dad…” As I squeezed him I could feel him get thinner and thinner, like his insides were being sucked out. It felt like there was nothing left of him. Tears started rolling down my face and the last thing I heard him say, faint as a whisper, haunted me. “Why won’t you help me Dad?” A nudge caused me to bolt up in my sleeping bag. Brandon was prodding me, “Wake up Dad, I’m hungry.” I got up, more than a little confused. As my heart stopped racing and I came back to reality I realized that I had just had a crazy nightmare. I chuckled to myself. After Brandon was fed I walked over to the ditch from the previous night. There was nothing weird or out of the ordinary. Brandon too, seemed just like he always was, and didn’t mention anything about the previous night. When I walked back to Brandon and asked if he felt the ground shake he said he hadn’t felt a thing. When we got back to civilization I asked other people the same thing and they all agreed with Brandon. For a week then, my mind was at ease. I worked a lot again that week and when I finally had a day off me and the wife took Brandon to the pool. It was only there that memories of that night came flooding back and the horror with it. When Brandon took his shirt off I looked at his arm, and noticed the family birthmark was missing. [x](https://www.lairofmysteriouspowers.com/)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16sgklh/twenty_years_ago_me_and_my_son_went_on_a_camping/

nosleep

maximumpowers69

I Post Pictures Of Myself, I Learned To Regret It

Something to know about me before I tell my store is that I loved pulling pranks as a kid. Back when I was 10 or so I got into the wrong group of kids, types that smoked and smelled things they shouldn't because of their gangbanger relative. Yeah, we lived in that kind of neighborhood. The type that when you go to sleep all you hear is yelling and gunfire right outside your house. Even with the bad situation these kids still liked playing pranks, most likely due to them being junior gang members. The "Leader" was 14 year old Devon Morris, the type to call shots that weren't his shots, and the idolizer 11 year old Lee Hopper, the kind of hype man for Devon, then me Jake Lorain or "Lori" as Devon calls me due to my "Girly" face. They saw me as kind of a new blood and brought me into their "gang". But first they of course needed to initiate me into the group. On a weekend the two brought me to the high school just a few blocks from our neighborhood. "Those losers over at my wanted some fliers put up for their new class president, you're gonna' fix em' up if you know what I mean." Devon told me. He handed me the pictures of me that he took with a stapler, "Go ahead and get to work, little Lori." Devon ordered with a grin. "Couldn't I get into a lot of trouble?" I meekly asked. Devon pushed me to the ground to drop me on my ass, "Gangsters always get in trouble, it walk makes us tough. You gonna' be tough or am I gonna' have to make you tough?" Devon barked with a clenched fist. I got up with the pictures and staplers before going to the school to prove how "tough" I was. I stapled down my pictures over the female class president that were on the walls of the school, hiding my face with the hood of my jacket. As I was putting down the posters I heard something very faintly, "Respect" I heard. I looked around to see who it was or who was around me but saw nobody. I quickly stapled down all the pictures and once I was done I just simply tossed the stapler, hopping on my small skateboard to skate home. The next day told me for certain I'd made a mistake. I woke up the next night expecting my mom in my room snapping at me with the principal of the school, but that didn't happen. I did see that I was late for school and hurried up to get dressed before going out to find my mom. I found her at the dinner table looking absolutely horrible, her skin was filled with rashes and it looked like she hadn't slept for weeks but it'd only been a day. "Mom, are you okay?" I asked in my usual low tone. Even with my low tone my mother fell out of her sleep to crawl against the fridge. "Get away! Don't hurt me please!" She cried. I stepped back in shock and could see her hands, there were cuts and marks across her wrist along with marks that seemed like she was fighting against someone. I tried to step closer but my own mom treated me like I was about to kill her, "Get the fuck away from me you monster!" She howled. Tears rolled down my face before I went and grabbed my skateboard to skate away from home. I skated to where I might find Devon at the school, when I got there it was horrible. I saw police cars and EMS vans at the school where I could see on the big sign it said, "Rest In Peace: Devon Morris, Lee Hopper, & Jack Lorain". "What the hell?" I thought out loud. But then I saw my photos on the wall, but they weren't pictures of me. In each of them were pictures of Devon and Lee but only in pieces, then I saw several pictures of my mom being covered in gashes and slashes, along with my dad dead with his own pistol in his mouth. "Beautiful, aren't they?" A low and raspy voice said. I screamed and fell to the ground nearly busting my head wide open, I wish I did so I did have to see the thing in front of me. The thing, was me. My whole person was standing right in front of me but with a twisted face, there were marks, cuts, exposed bone, but skin that looked like it was rotten. The disturbing version of me had no eyes and had a disgusting smiled made with different teeth from all four of my closest friends. "None of them had respect, your mom had none for your father and so did he, your friends took enjoyment out of disrespecting others, so I had to teach them some respect." The twisted persona of me said. "T-they were just kids, a-a-and mom and dad never hurt me." I gasped out. The other me tilted it's head, "Maybe you can turn things around, but I need to make sure of it." The other I smiled. He then pulled out a bloodied cleaver, then pulled out my hand. "No, please no!" Were my last few words I woke up in a hospital hoping that everything I saw and experienced were just a dream, but I looked down and saw the opposite. I grew up using a prosthetic hand that i used to help people. I went to events to teach the effects of becoming a gang member, when a kid sees another kid with a real fake hand it tends to set him straight. If you're looking for a damn moral it's pretty obvious. Be respectful to others and be a good part of your community, because trust me, you don't want to see what happens if you don't.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16sq0i4/i_post_pictures_of_myself_i_learned_to_regret_it/

nosleep

EmoXan

We Work For Carl

“Listen here you little shit. I WILL shoot you. I’ll shoot ya dead. Open up the register. RIGHT. FUCKING. NOW.” the man commanded, a little bit of spittle spewing from his mouth. He seemed like he meant business, but I easily picked up on the subtle undertone in his voice. The sweat glistening on his forehead, how his eyes darted nervously this way and that, the way his hand shook as he pointed the supposed pistol at my face. It was implied that there was a pistol concealed inside of the small paper bag at the end of his arm, clutched inside of a sweaty fist. Everything about the guy screamed nervous desperation. “I can’t do that for you, chief. Boss would kill me” I replied calmly. “Do yourself a favor and put the gun down. Everybody goes home and we can just forget all about this. Scout’s honor.” I told him, cool as a cucumber. “Boss? I’ll fuckin kill ya! Give me the damn money!” he screamed, ignoring all reason. The gas station I work at doesn’t have a conventional alarm system. Our emergency button tucked away under the counter doesn’t summon the authorities. My boss, Carl, didn’t have much want or need for such a thing. He WAS the authority. Everybody in our small town knew it, just like they knew you don’t mess with Carl. You’d have to be a complete moron, or have a death wish to even attempt such a thing. Carl had a reputation, something all of us locals knew all too well. That’s what told me that this guy was from out of town, either that or just a fucking moron. He got close and prodded me in the ribs hard with whatever was in the bag. It certainly felt like the barrel of a pistol. Here I had been thinking that he was definitely bluffing with an empty bag. Now, I figured it was probably a 50% chance he was bluffing. Despite all that though, I still wasn’t going to give this man a damn dime. “I told you, sir. I can’t do that” I said, looking him dead in the eye. Maybe if I showed him a sliver of respect, he’d do the respectable thing. Maybe he’d decide to do the RIGHT thing, the SMART thing, and cut his losses. “You think I’m fucking bluffing? You think this bag’s empty?” he asked, reading my mind. More spittle flung from his mouth with every other word. I just shrugged, already giving up on trying to save this poor fool from a slow and painful death at the hands of Carl. “Yeah. I sure do. You’re bluffing” I said, resigned in trying to do my good deed for the day. That was when he took a big step back, lowered the paperbag at my knee, and pulled the trigger. The end of the bag exploded outward and there was a loud pop. Two loud pops, actually, though only milliseconds apart. The first loud pop was the discharge of a gun, the second pop was my kneecap exploding as the small caliber bullet pierced my flesh and shattered bone. I guess he wasn’t bluffing afterall. I dropped like a stone as my leg decided it could no longer hold my weight, and for good reason. The pain was immense, but bearable. I’d undergone more intense pain at the hands of Carl numerous times, though. At that moment I was afraid. Not of this thug, no, but of what Carl might do to me because of this thug. Carl calls that ‘having your priorities straight’. “What do you think now?” he screamed in conquest, standing over me and pointing the gun at my face. I could see the emergency button from my spot on the floor. It was between my assailant and I on the underside of the counter. I hadn’t pressed it yet because I was hoping it wouldn’t need to be done, and if I made a dash for it right this second he’d have a bullet in my brain before I could even get close. Nobody wants that kind of headache. It was at that moment that Thomas came out of the walk-in cooler, the loud latching mechanism clicking shut and giving away his position. He had gone in to stock some beer about twenty minutes ago, and honestly I was hoping that he had seen the situation through the row of glass cooler doors and was going to sneak up and bash the robber’s skull in. He hadn’t. He hadn’t even heard the gunshot due to those goddamn earbuds he wears 24/7. He came sauntering out of the cooler, oblivious to the fact that we were currently being robbed. He looked up just in time to see the barrel of a gun protruding from a crumpled paper bag pointing between his eyes. There was another loud pop, and Thomas’ brains were sprayed along the row of cooler doors. The robber had gotten the jump on him, and he hadn’t stood a chance. He turned back toward me, gun at my face again. “You told me nobody else was here, dammit! That right there-” he pointed to Thomas laying in a growing pool of his own blood, “that shit is on you! His death was YOUR fault” he screamed. He was beyond flustered. The situation had just elevated from robbery and assault to murder. His thumb moved inside the bag and there was a loud audible click, a hammer being pulled back on a gun. By the weak pop the gun had made when he fired it, a .22 caliber I’d imagine. A little Saturday night special revolver, they call ‘em. “Now that you know I’m done fucking around, open the goddamn register” he said, seemingly calmed down a tad after taking a slow, deep breath. “Do you even know what kind of shit you’re in, man?” I pleaded with his greater sensibilities. “Even IF Carl don’t get ya, that’s murder over there. Do you know what kind of time you’re looking at for murder? Nevermind the attempted robbery and attempted murder on me. That’s the rest of your life, which will be a real short one if Carl gets you” I stated, trying my hardest not to laugh at just how fucked this moron was. A moron that was gonna get himself killed, or worse, get me in trouble with Carl. Like I said, priorities. The robber DID laugh, though. “Who the fuck is Carl and why should I give a shit? He’s probably got insurance, kid, and you’re really stupid enough to risk your life over a handful of dollars?” It was my turn to laugh. “I was just wondering the same thing about you. There’s less than $300 in there, guaranteed. Hell, I know people who’d gladly PAY $300 so nobody would utter their name around Carl. That would be you, if you’re smart.” He didn’t like that one bit. He decided to pistol whip me this time instead of shooting me. He already saw that the register was bolted to the counter, so he couldn’t just carry it with him. As for trying to open it himself, he’d already tried and given up. The strange rune-like symbols on the screen in the place of buttons were foreign to him, just as they were once foreign to me. Carl always preferred the equipment to be in his native language if possible. Some might call him nostalgic for a bygone era forgotten to history, I on the other hand, call him smart for it. Should some moron ever decide to rob the place, such as this moron, it would prove another hurdle for sure, just as it had today. As much as I feared my boss, I had to hand it to him. I admired his wit. Dazed and seeing stars from the whack he’d given my head, he started yelling again. I’m not quite sure what he was yelling, only that if I didn’t want another blow to the face or possibly another bullet, I’d better comply. He must think I’m a damn fool. Whatever he could do to me, Carl would make it ten times worse if I let this guy just run off with a single cent of his money. Carl was my master, was this entire village’s master to varying degrees, and I greatly feared how he may reciprocate should all of this put him in one of his moods. The only reason why I agreed to work for him directly here at his store was for fear of what he’d do to my family should I say no. It was a reverse Faustian bargain situation. Carl was a powerful guy in these parts, one you’d rather have as a master if you’re smart. Another blow to the temple sent me reeling. He was upset, becoming more desperate. He’d been trying to rob the place for damn near 10 minutes at this point. I’m sure that for him, what should have been a quick in and out job that was turning into a lengthy affair was frustrating. It had to be. That’s why I understood where he was coming from completely when he shot me again in my other knee. He finally figured out that mere threats don’t work on people, not where going against Carl is concerned. There’s a town FULL of people here that know that. A graveyard, too. The pain of one shattered knee was intense, but bearable. Two shattered knees, however, was a little too much. I rolled about and moaned in agony as I clutched my wounds, as if applying pressure would lessen the pain. It didn’t, but the surge of endorphins seemed to help. I had two chances left, as I saw it. The first was that damn button, several feet away that I probably wouldn’t reach quick enough. I hit the button and roll the dice with Carl. Maybe he’d be in a grateful mood? I’d have to crawl a good distance to hit it, however, and with two shattered kneecaps and quickly losing blood, I wasn’t exactly spry. The other chance, and the one that I was hoping and praying for, was that my other coworker, Kris, would finish taking a shit sometime soon and come do what Thomas should have, had he had a shred of situational awareness. He’d been back there for quite a while now, and surely he’d heard something, like I don’t know, maybe the three gunshots? Even if he couldn’t take the guy out completely, he might just distract the asshole long enough for me to crawl my cripple ass over and smash the button. “You sure are a loyal little prick, I’ll give you that. It’s about to get you killed if you don’t open that register” he said matter of factly. A smile spread across his face. “What’s so special about this Carl guy, huh?” All I could do was laugh. I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t a matter of loyalty, it was a matter of fear. Are the sheep loyal to the wolf, or do they just know that their chances are better if they don’t do anything to provoke getting bit? I was still rolling around in agony, laughing like a madman when I heard it. The sounds of a scuffle, a rack of chips being knocked over, the gun going off harmlessly into the ceiling, busting a row of fluorescent lights. I looked up to see that the robber was no longer behind the counter with me. I peeked over the counter to see that he was currently grappling with Thomas out on the floor, who had a firm grasp on the man's wrist as he attempted to wrestle the gun away from him. Thank god for Kris, and his long shit. While he obviously wasn’t quiet or quick enough to initially subdue the guy, he had at least taken him by surprise. I saw my chance to go for the emergency button, and I took it. Carl would probably be pissed, but not as pissed as he’d be if this guy stole from him. The pain of trying to crawl on my belly with two shattered kneecaps was intense. My useless legs trying to push me forward were enough that I was fighting not to go into shock. Another gunshot rang out on the other side of the counter. Then another. As I inched myself closer and closer toward the button, I realized that things had suddenly gotten quiet. One of those shots had probably hit home, subduing one of the men, but which one? I kept crawling. The button was just barely out of reach when the robber came walking back around the counter again, the spray of blood from my coworker covering his shirt and his face. I don’t think Kris made it. He leveled the gun at my face for the final time. His resolve turned to rage as he said “Last chance. Open the fucking register.” There was no getting out of it now. I made like I was trying to reach up to press the correct sequence of keys, and as soon as I got close enough I smashed the hidden button. “Fuck you” I said, as the lights went out. The series of shutters on the front of the store slammed down with a procession of loud crashes. Together, we plunged into complete darkness, and the last thing I remember seeing was the flash of a gun, as the robber's bullet hit me in the face. I remember feeling a flash of relief, hoping that if I did die, I’d at least be free of Carl in the afterlife. He had been forbidden from that place long ago. When I woke up, the lights were back on. The shutters were still closed up tight, and as I stood the first thing I noticed was the coppery taste in my mouth. There was an ungodly amount of blood splattered everywhere. The walls, the ceiling, all over the product. It was a bloodbath. Carl had obviously taken his time with the poor bastard. I looked over just in time to see Kris, still lying on the floor, the bullet hole in his chest slowly closing, and with our boss’s blood staining his mouth and chin. I immediately cowered in fear upon seeing my boss standing over Thomas, his wrist bleeding and pouring a steady stream of dark crimson blood into the place where Thomas’ mouth should have been. His body spasmed, his limbs twisting and contorting with a sickening crunch as Carl’s blood did its supernatural work. He laughed like the dead would laugh if the joke’s punchline was about life. “You did good, kid” Carl chuckled, not even looking over his shoulder at me. With his preternatural hearing, he tended to hear everything, and knew I was back up. Either that, or he could smell my fear. “Keep it up, and you just might earn yourself a promotion.” I shuddered at the thought. My knees itched where the newly grown skin had repaired, mending my flesh and bone. No matter how many times he healed me with his blood, I never got used to that odd feeling. It was an itch that never abated, no matter how much you scratched. It would lessen with time, though. I glanced about, noticing pieces of the asshole scattered here and there. I thought of how stupid he was, and in a way I envied him. It was over for him, but looking like it was going to be a long eternity for me. Lucky bastard. “I’ll go get the shovels,” I said. He kept them in the utility room around back, right next to his coffin.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16s5rn6/we_work_for_carl/

nosleep

Sadistic_Torsion

I've always been afraid of mirrors.

I’ve always been afraid of mirrors. Ever since I was little, I've had these terrible nightmares. I'd be walking around my house at night, cold and sleepy, and I’d get this urge, and I’d go into the bathroom, peek into the mirror, and there would be nothing there. All I saw was an empty bathroom, with nothing looking back at me. It was like I wasn’t even real. Or worse: there would be a face looking back at me, but it wasn’t my face. I avoided looking at mirrors most of my life. My mom took down all the ones she could, but some were necessary, like the ones in the bathroom, or at the vanity where she put on her makeup. I used to watch her get ready there, sitting half-dressed at the little desk, staring right in the mirror, daring to close her eyes and put stuff on her eyelids. It would creep me the hell out. When I had to wash my hands in the bathroom, I’d do it from the side, so the mirror couldn’t see me. Sometimes I taped paper over the mirrors, but it annoyed her if I did that too much, so I only did when she was out. Of course, it affected my social life. If anyone tried playing Bloody Mary at a sleepover, I had to call my mom to come get me. So that didn’t make me popular, but I probably wouldn’t have been anyway. I couldn’t pluck my eyebrows, and going to the salon was a nightmare—sitting in front of those big mirrors made me sweat like a dog, so my mom always cut my hair at home, in the kitchen. People never complimented my haircut, but at least she kept it out of my eyes. When I moved out, I spent days hunting at Goodwill, picking out the dullest, least-shiny appliances I could. I worked from home, where I kept my own mirrors covered constantly, and I never opened my blinds. The only time I glimpsed my reflection was at other peoples’ houses, or at restaurants. Clearly, I didn’t get out much, and when I did have to use the bathroom in public places, I took deep breaths, averted my eyes, and counted down the seconds until I could dry my hands and get the fuck out. I could have used more therapy, obviously—but what, am I rich or something? It’s not so bad to let a phobia run your life. I just don’t make a big deal out of it. Really, it only became a problem when my mom died. Lots of things became a problem then. How was I supposed to live in a world where my mom was dead? Also, who was going to cut my hair now? My mom didn’t have a lot, and what little she had was inarguably mine, so I hired a probate attorney with the promise of a pittance from her estate. Even though there was no contest, it took forever to wrap things up, and talk to the banks, and work it out with the mortgage people. The house sat empty for a long time, until I was ready to hold her wake. The wake was small and casual. My mom was never fussy, so we ordered pizza, sat around talking, and I got gravely wasted off boxed wine. Her old shift supervisor put me to bed that night, tucking the blankets around my shoulders while I sobbed. I woke up badly nauseated, with a pillow snugly tucked against my back, keeping me from rolling over. That was nice of them. I opened my eyes and saw something shifting in the shadows of the room. I remembered how this worked, of course. Like I was a kid again, I held completely, utterly still. I didn’t even breathe, which was a mistake. I held my breath so long that I involuntarily inhaled with a tiny hiss. I waited, and waited, head swimming and stomach churning, then peeked out through slitted eyes. They had put me to bed in my mom’s old room, probably thinking it was mine now, and her old vanity mirror pointed right at me. I couldn’t make out my reflection, but I’d seen something moving. I could hear it still, a faint rustling, like an animal in the walls. That happened at night, in this house. I stayed there for a long time, until my rippling gut let me know I couldn’t wait much longer. I threw off the blankets and dashed down the hall, into the bathroom, kneeling over the toilet just in time. The vomit burned through my throat, and my stomach cramped from convulsions, and I was crying as my uncut hair dipped into the toilet water. My mother was dead, and there was no one in the world who loved me now. Who cared if I died? I flushed the toilet and clumsily patted the ends of my hair with toilet paper. I didn’t do a great job; I was probably still a little drunk. I swayed for a moment, trying to decide if I needed to throw up more, but decided to be optimistic about it. I went to wash my hands. I forgot I’d removed the paper for the wake, knowing my mom would have been embarrassed for all her friends and coworkers to see it, to know I hadn’t grown out of my fear in any meaningful way. I was looking right at the mirror before I even knew what was happening. And there was someone looking back. It wasn’t me. I knew what I looked like from pictures. This face had pale-white skin, roughly-shorn hair, and a cold, hard stare. This face hated me. This face had always hated me. It pressed up against the mirror from the wrong side, its wet rotten teeth clacking against the surface, its white fuzzy tongue slathering all over the mirror. It wanted me. It wanted out. I tried to scream, but nothing came out; my throat was still weak from the vomit. I fled the bathroom and bolted down the hall, running so fast I pitched forward and … One of my mom's friends had stayed over to make sure I made it through the night okay, and heard when I didn’t. They took shifts beside my hospital bed over the next few days. My concussion wasn’t too bad, but the doctors were worried about my state of mind. I’d come in on the brink of alcohol poisoning, crying about faces in the mirror, and I’d recently suffered such a grievous loss. I heard them whispering about it in the hallway. There was no one in the world who loved me or could take care of me, so they wanted to observe me for a few days, make sure I was okay. Like it was helpful to saddle me with additional medical bills, but they didn’t listen when I argued about that. “You’re okay, honey,” said my mom’s old coworker, a smoker with stained fingers and sweet eyes. “We’ll help you.” “I can’t take your help,” I lied. Though my mom wouldn’t have liked it, I took the envelope of cash she handed me at the end of my stay without further protest. It didn’t cover the whole bill, but a good enough chunk that I stopped thinking about killing myself for practical reasons, and got left with just the emotional ones. I stayed out of my mom’s house for as long as I could. I couldn’t bear to go back there, where I’d seen the thing in the mirror. I knew I’d just been drunk, hysterical, having a nightmare, an episode of sleep paralysis, hallucinating from grief (one or maybe all of these things) but the thought of going back made me want to die. But the lease on my apartment was ending, the few friends I had were distancing themselves, and my mom’s friends had done enough for me already. So I went home. I taped so much paper over the mirror, then I leaned a big cutting board over it. It wouldn’t keep the creature in—not that there was really a creature—but it made me feel a little better. I drank as little water as I could, and, most of the time when I had to pee, I crouched over the kitchen sink. I realize this was a major problem, but come on. I’d just lost my mom, so I had other things to worry about, like how to pay the mortgage, or what to do with mountains of worthless stuff. She’d kept every baby drawing I’d ever made, even the meaningless scribbles. Even a mother’s love shouldn’t have made her like those, but my mom was special. My mom specialized in not throwing out anything. We were too poor to be choosy, she would tell me, when I said something or another was expired. She collected cans of food and microwavable bags of rice, but thankfully she seemed to have eased up on that since I’d left the house. She had hardly anything left in the pantry. I called over a couple of her friends to come forage through her knickknacks and portraits and whatever else was left. They were all woo-woo old ladies who seemed like they’d be into the *c h e r i s h* or *coffee, love, faith* word art decor my mom had favored. They seemed happy to have the opportunity to come check up on me, and I was happy for them to take the cheesy signs off my hands. Sonja, my mom’s old shift supervisor, had to use the bathroom while she was there. She seemed tearful when she came out of the bathroom, and gave me an extra-long hug goodbye. “I know you have your thing about mirrors,” she said. Of course, she’d seen the setup I had in the bathroom. “I don’t know if I oughta tell you this, but your mom was a bit the same. She never wanted to tell you; said it wouldn’t help.” “My mom was scared of mirrors too?” I asked. No way. She used to march me into the bathroom in the middle of the night, when I’d been bothering her too much, and force me to look. At some point, a school counselor made her stop. “Just a little,” said Sonja, and sniffled. “She said sometimes she’d have these dreams, and that she wouldn’t see her reflection. They only started when you guys moved here. Sorry, baby, I know this probably didn’t help. I just think you have the right to know. This house don’t feel right, not to me. Please be safe.” I thanked her for telling me and stood there for a long time after she left, feeling lost. My mom had never even hinted that she had a thing about mirrors. She made a point of loving them in front of me, always checking her reflection in car windows and shopfronts. It had never occurred to me she might have been trying to set an example. Sonja said the nightmares only started after we moved into this house. I’d been so little when we moved here; I wouldn’t have known. I did know there was something wrong with our house. We didn’t talk about it. Sometimes we heard scratching in the walls, or sobbing. Things moved around at night. Sometimes you couldn’t see your reflection in the mirror. My mom always ignored it, ignored me. She said the house was normal and fine and I was weird and wrong. When I begged to move, she yelled at me until I stopped asking. Everything was fine, and I was too scared, too silly, too imaginative. Since my mom was dead now, and I’d inherited what little she had, and I understood now that we never could have afforded to move. I didn’t let myself think. I went right to the bathroom and tore down the paper. There I was: scared, silly, and imaginative. I pulled my face, moved my head, tried to escape the face in the mirror, but I couldn’t. It was normal. There was nothing in the mirror but me. My heart was beating fast, but I wasn’t going to be afraid anymore. I was real. I was grown up. I was motherless. I had to take care of myself. I took that cutting board off the floor and I threw it right at the face in the mirror. The mirror shattered, but it didn’t. A few pieces fell to the sink, but I still saw my reflection. There was something behind the mirror—there was another mirror. It didn’t make any sense. I couldn’t breathe. I threw the cutting board again, and there was a bigger shattering sound, a crumpling, and I heard the mirror shards falling to the floor on the other side of the wall. I peeked though. It was dark on the other side. If I let myself think, I'd run screaming. So I pulled out my phone flashlight to get a better look. Peering through, I saw a little room on the other side of the mirror. It looked just like my bathroom. It had the same wallpaper, the same towel hanger we hardly used, the same doorstop on the wall. I used shampoo bottles to knock out the rest of the glass shards. I kept a large shard clutched in my hand carefully, as a weapon, and then I clambered onto the sink and climbed through. There was broken glass sliding under my slippers, and I felt it pricking the bottoms of my feet. I turned around, inspecting. On the other side of the small room, where I couldn't have seen from the mirror, there was a little nest made out of what looked like old blankets. I recognized some—the Scooby-Doo blanket we thought I’d left in McDonald’s, the quilt my grandma had made for my mom when I was born. She'd blamed me for losing it. They were soiled, blackened and dirty. They smelled. There was a toilet and a sink, which didn't work. There was a door that didn’t open, to my relief, no matter how hard I tugged. I turned to look at the hole I’d climbed through. There was a wire bent above the mirror. I reached up, and realized it was attached to a wooden square, which had been the frame for the mirror before I’d shattered it. It was removable from this side. I took it down. There were still shards embedded at the top of the hole, on the side where my bathroom was. I saw that they were only glass, perfectly see-through. Not a mirror. There had never been a mirror in our bathroom. There was a glass window, and the mirror someone hung up against it, facing outwards, and which they took down sometimes, at night. What if it came back and saw I'd found its spot? I climbed out as fast as I could, splitting open my forearms in the process. I barricaded the bathroom door before calling the police. The dispatcher was skeptical about my story; maybe that's why it took the cops hours to show up. I paced the living room the whole time I waited, picking at my new scabs, flinching at every sound. They showed up, greeted me without interest, went into the batheoom and came back out, delighted. “This is a weird one,” one commented to me. “Listen. Whoever’s been livin there is long gone. You said the house been unoccupied? How long?” “Um,” I said. “A few months. Since my mom died.” “Sorry to hear that,” he said, perfunctorily. “Listen. Oh man. I’m guessin they’ve been eatin your food, living off you like some kinda critter. Can you imagine?” “Um,” I said. “When you left, we’re guessin they ran out of food. And moved on.” “How long were they here?” I demanded. I wanted to keep talking, make it clear how serious a problem this was, but I couldn’t think. I just said it again. “How—how long?” “God,” he said, with admiration. “Coulda been decades. That glass panel y’all thought was a mirror? It was detachable, like a little door, y’know? They could climb out whenever they wanted, so. How long you been livin here? Food ever go missin? Y’all ever hear somebody movin around at night?” “Yes,” I said, and began to cry. He patted me on the back for a while, then went to find his partner, where I overheard them gossiping like teenagers in the bathroom. They just loved it, couldn’t believe it, couldn’t wait to tell the boys. When they left, I don’t even know if they filed a report. They didn’t seem to think it was a real problem, and even congratulated me on their way out, for conjuring up a spare half-bath. They pointed out that it would have connected to my mom’s room, but that the door had been boarded up for some reason. They doubted I could save the old blankets, and recommended burning them. I considered calling Sonja, but it’s not the type of story you tell an old lady, especially not one who’d picked out the silliest of my mom’s word art decor (*With ☆ GOD ☆ all ☆ THINGS ☆ are ☆ POSSIBLE*). So I wrote this post. I didn’t know what else to do. I haven’t repaired the mirror yet. I honestly feel better about having a hole in the wall instead. That way I can make sure nobody’s in it. I worry that the person who lived there is going to come back somehow. But to be honest, lately I’ve started to consider repairing the hole, getting another glass panel set up and buying another mirror for the other side. I can’t keep up with the mortgage payments, and the bank’s been sending me increasingly URGENT letters. I’m afraid to open them. Sooner or later, something’s going to happen, and I’m going to lose the house. The only thing I can think to do is come with the house in secret. The idea sounds better and better to me lately. After all, wouldn’t it be nice to be on the other side of the mirror for once?

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16s8h4h/ive_always_been_afraid_of_mirrors/

nosleep

tackymadman

I See Corpses' Glow

My parents noticed it first. They’d buried our old dog in the backyard after he died, and they watched three-year-old me petting the air above his grave. They found it touching, but they didn’t think much of it until they took me to visit my grandmother’s grave for the first time. I was five, and they said I was hugging my father's leg as I asked why the sleeping people were glowing yellow. After that, my parents realized I had an unusual gift, and they helped me study it and develop it. We ended up calling the hovering, glowing shadow that corpses emit “glowmains”. By the time I was fourteen, we were roaming forests, alleys, abandoned sites, and sailing around the bay, locating bodies and sending anonymous tips to the police. We felt it was important for their deaths to be given proper respect and closure. My parents and I agreed a long time ago to never reveal my gift out of fear of me getting taken away for experiments. We had no idea how I’d come to possess this ability, and we were okay with that … but now, I think I’m close to finding out! A few days ago, just after my sixteenth birthday, my grandfather got sick and my parents had to travel across the country to be by his side. I was old enough to be on my own for a few days, and I also had just started school, so I stayed behind. They made me promise not to go body hunting without them, but a few days after they called and said they were extending their stay for another week, I couldn’t help myself. We had a half-day of school today, and after class, I ran home, grabbed one of my many cheap galoches, and took a one-hour bus ride to the abandoned hospital at the edge of town. We'd been meaning to check it out for a while, and I was excited to see how many bodies I could help find proper respect. After sneaking into the building, I walked around, ignoring the glowmains of rats and lizards until I came across a human-shaped one. This one was very bright, which meant it was a fresh body. The closer I got to it, the bigger and clearer it became, until it was the size of a full-grown man right at my feet. The corpse was under a ratty blanket, but I knew he was curled up in the fetal position, just like his glowmains hovering over him. He must’ve been a homeless man who died alone in this old, empty building. With sorrow tugging at my heart, I made a note of his location before I walked around some more, searching the quiet, dusty halls for others. Turning to a window, I froze in my tracks at the sight of dozens of glowmains in the desiccated garden, bigger than those of the birds and squirrels. I ran out and made a beeline to the closest one, and I grimaced at its shape. It was of a guy on his back, his decapitated head beside his feet. It was small, which meant the body was buried quite deep in the ground. I ran to another, and I put a hand to my mouth, a chill trickling down my spine. This one had each leg split into three from thigh to toes, their skin in tatters. My heart hammered as I whipped around, my wide eyes scanning this morbid graveyard and its hundreds of mutilated glowmains. This had to be some murder cult’s dump site or something. I had to report it. And I had to get out of here. My body hunting over for the day, I ran out of the hospital gates and dashed towards the bus stop, only stopping to ditch the galoches. My heart continued jittering the entire way home, and I only let out a shaky sigh of relief once I ran through the front door and clicked the lock shut. After collecting myself, I went to my mother's computer and called the police through the untraceable system she’d set up, leaving an anonymous tip on where to find the bodies. My parents usually did this, but there was no way I was letting them know I broke their rules. I’d seen them do these calls often enough and I was certain I set it up properly. Not a minute later, my mother called, and I stared at my phone, terrified she knew I’d accessed the computer. With my heart in my throat, I answered, and I let out a relieved breath when all they wanted to do was check up on me and give me updates on my grandfather and his upcoming surgery. Satisfied I’d done a good job all on my own, I decided to go out and celebrate. After calling my friends and arranging for a movie night, I grabbed a quick bite, showered, and primped up before slinging on my purse and making my way to the bus stop. With the fall sunsets, I always kept my phone’s flashlight open for safety when I passed by alleys … ... but all the good that did me today. Barely a block from home, a hand covered my mouth as I was dragged away and shoved inside a van, my phone cracking on the sidewalk. My screams scoured my throat as tape was pressed over my lips and a bag slipped over my head, my hands and feet bound with chains. Once their hands were off me, I frantically scooted away until my back hit the side of the van. Trembling, I curled up into myself, trying to hold back tears as I wondered if these were members of the murder cult, upset I’d reported their dump site. Maybe my call wasn’t as anonymous as I’d hoped. Maybe the police were in on it. Dread pierced my already beleaguered heart as I also realized they might ask how I knew there were bodies buried there. I had to get out of this situation with my life and my secret intact. Despite my overwhelming fear, I tried to escape as I began twisting my wrists against the chains, but to my shock, someone hoisted me onto their shoulder and began walking. They’d just thrown me in here, and now they were carrying me out before driving anywhere? I shifted my terrified efforts into struggling, but all that did was make them dig their fingers deeper into my thigh to hold me steady. I gasped as they flung me forward, and I grunted in pain as my butt landed on something hard, my bound feet dangling. The bag was removed off my head, and I winced at the bright light aimed directly at my face. Squinting, I looked around, and my dread grew at the sight of bare cement walls, floors, and ceilings. Where was I? Perched on a thin wooden stool, I wobbled as I turned to glance behind me, and three stern men and a woman looked back, their eyes piercing green, their burly physique intimidating. I didn't know if they were cops, but I was certain they were killers. From the murder cult I'd tattled on. And now I was at their mercy. The woman reached over in the blink of an eye, and I flinched as she ripped the tape off my mouth. “Now we may begin.” I gasped and turned to the front again, towards the voice, and my frightened gaze landed on the silhouette of a man walking towards me. He stood within kicking distance, but I didn’t dare make a move. He remained silent for a while, studying me, and I gulped as I tried to study him back. The bright light behind him didn’t allow for much detail, but I could smell his cologne and see the shine of his shoes. "You reported bodies buried in the old Mercy Care Hospital. We have people in the force who traced the call to your address. Who told you about the bodies and why?" My mouth hung open as fear paralyzed my mind. He'd inadvertently given me an out. I could put the blame on somebody else. But I didn't know what the safest thing to say was. The man stepped closer. “If you don’t tell me how you knew about the bodies, I’ll make you tell me.” I flinched, drawing back. “It … it was an a-anonymous call," I said, my trembling voice cracking. He sighed. “Then it must come to this.” He reached for me, and I broke as I shied away and cried out, “I saw their glowmains!” “You saw their what?” Still cowering into myself, I squeezed my eyes shut, regret coating my frazzled heart as I began to weep. “I saw their glowmains," I whispered. He stepped back. “What are glowmains?” “The d-dead, they … they have hovering, glowing shadows.” “Stop crying and explain it to me.” I winced at his harsh tone, my breaths hitching as I swallowed my last sob. “I d-don’t know how it works. I just … see it. It … it’s the shape of the dead body. Floating d-directly over them. Always in air. If they’re buried, the glow is above the ground where they’re b-buried. If they’re in the water, it’s above the surface where they are. The smaller it is, the d-deeper they are. The brighter it is, the f-fresher they are.” He remained silent for a while, and antsy anticipation gnawed at my nerves. He now knew what I could do, and what he planned on doing with that information was a mystery that terrified me. “Unchain her,” he said to his goons as he turned off the bright light. I blinked in surprise as they followed his orders. Now no longer blinded, I could finally make out my interrogator’s features. He was just as tall as the thugs who worked for him, but he was less burly with greener eyes. He also looked older and more polished, his hair longer, his dark skin flawless, his face clean-shaven, his canines prominent, his black suit a far cry from their jeans and leather jackets. He put his hand to his ear and spoke in a strange language before he said to me, “I’m taking you to meet my mother." Baffled, I stood up on shaky legs and rubbed my sore wrists. “Who’s your mother?” “She’ll let you know. Follow me.” “B-but why are you—” “If you won’t come with me voluntarily, I’ll have my team escort you.” I tensed up and shot a glance behind me at his goons’ scowling faces. “No, n-no, I’ll come.” Gathering my courage, I followed him, his team behind us. After walking through a drab, gray hall with no doors, we reached a dead end. My confusion didn’t last long as a hidden door slid open, revealing an elevator. Only my interrogator and I entered, my unease increasing by the second as the door slid closed. There were no buttons inside, and even after the man tapped his bracelet against the wall, we didn’t seem to move. Frowning, I turned to him, only to look back at the door in surprise when it opened to reveal a vast, black marble office. “Mika, please bring our guest in,” a woman said, her voice echoing. I had to squint to see her behind a glass desk at the far end of the room. A huge emerald chandelier hung above our heads as we walked past marble statues and pedestals holding fancy vases, the metallic scent in the cold air intermingling with that of leather. We finally made it to the lady's desk, and she stood up and gestured to a couch across from her desk. “Have a seat, dear.” Shivering, I sank into the soft leather and hugged myself, feeling the effect of her authority already. She didn’t seem much older than her son, and she was also extremely pale. She must have adopted him. She was as beautiful as he was handsome, her canines just as prominent, but her green eyes were so bright they seemed to be glowing as power and confidence radiated off her. “What’s your name?” she asked. “S-Serena,” I replied after a second of hesitation. “Serena, welcome. I’m Cassiopeia.” I eyed her as she smiled and walked over with a red, wool shawl, and I flinched when she draped it over my shoulders. “Don't be scared," she said, sitting beside me. "We won't hurt you. I apologize for the way you've been treated, we assumed you were working with the enemy." "Enemy?" I asked, pulling the shawl tight around me. "Wh-what enemy?" "That isn't important right now. What I'm interested in is your case. My son tells me you have the gift of seeing the glow of the dead. It’s a very rare gift for a human to have.” Shock merged with my unease. “Wait, you … you know about gifts like this?” “I’ve heard of creatures that possess such an ability.” “Creatures? What creatures?” “I’ll let you know once you give me more details about your gift. You've had the gift for as long as you remember, haven't you?" I never imagined divulging my secret before, but now it was out, and despite my apprehension, I wanted answers. “Yes.” “Your parents don't possess the same gift, do they?” “No.” “Do you see this glow for every dead body?” I nodded. “Not plants or bugs, b-but everything else, yes.” “You said the brighter the glow, the fresher the body. How long does the body have to be dead before the glow is completely extinguished.” “I … I don’t know. My grandma died ten years before I was born a-and I can still see her glowmains in the graveyard.” "And how old are you?" "Sixteen." She smiled. “That’s wonderful." “It is?” “Yes.” She reached over and held my hands. “Tell me, Serena, what do you do with your gift?” Feeling at ease, I smiled back. “My parents and I find bodies in the woods and alleys and the bay and stuff and we report them to the police.” My smile vanished. “Why do you guys have a graveyard full of mutilated bodies in the hospital garden?” That question had been writhing in my mind, and I felt a strange compulsion to ask it just now. Horror wrung my heart, but Cassiopiea’s words soothed it. “There are no bodies in the hospital garden.” She rubbed her thumbs over the back of my hands. “Trust me. You do trust me, don't you?” I nodded, sighing in relief. “Yes.” “Wonderful. Now, tell me Serena, have you ever had a DNA test done?” “No, and I don’t need to. I know my parents are my parents.” “They could very well be your parents, but as I’ve heard, certain creatures have a way of injecting their DNA into other species. If you don’t mind, we’d like to take a sample of your blood to run a DNA test.” “You?” “Yes. We have our own labs. And with our knowledge, we’ll focus on areas other labs would gloss over.” She smiled, holding my hands tighter. “You are interested in finding out the source of your gift, aren’t you?” I gave her an eager nod. “Yes, I am.” “Wonderful! Mika, please draw a vial of Serena’s blood.” Mika grimaced. "The lab can do it later." "Mika," Cassiopeia said in a warning tone. "Let's not keep our guest waiting. I have the kit on my desk." Mika, still grimacing, walked over and snapped on the gloves with irritation, and I tensed up. “I’m … I’m afraid of needles.” “Just look at me and relax.” Cassiopeia said. “It will be over before you know it.” Her green eyes drew me in, and I smiled. “Okay, I’m okay.” “And it's over before it started!" "Wha ...?" I looked down at my arm in shock to see my sleeve rolled up, gauze taped to my inner elbow. “How ... how did you do that so f-fast?” I asked, turning to Mika in bewildered discomfort. "Experience," he replied, snapping off the gloves in disgust. Cassiopeia squeezed my hands and scooted closer. “Serena, I would like you to do something for me.” I turned back to her. “What do you want me to do?” “My only brother Perseus was murdered fifteen years ago by one of our rivals.” “Oh, no, I’m so sorry,” I said, my heart dropping with sorrow. “I am too, that I wasn’t able to save him. I’ve been trying to locate his body and bring him home for a proper burial, but I’ve been unsuccessful. This is where I ask for your help. We have certain locations where we believe his body could have been dumped. To save us from searching the entire area, you could point out his body's glow if you see it.” “But I don’t know what he looks like. And even if I did, glowmains don’t have a lot of detail.” “He’s easy to identify. He only had one leg. And he would be decapitated.” I winced. “Oh …” “Please, Serena.” She ran her thumb over my knuckles. “Perseus and I built this business together and it pains me that his body is so far from home. Are you willing to help me so that my brother can rest in peace?” I couldn’t help but reply, “Yes, of course I’ll help you.” "Do you promise?" "Yes." She cupped my hands in hers. “Thank you so much, you’re an angel. Tell me, Serena, is anyone expecting you tonight?” “No, my parents are across the country with my grandpa because he’s sick,” I replied without hesitation. “But they do call me every day. I was also supposed to meet my friends at the movies tonight. I should call them and tell them I didn’t bail on purpose. I don’t want bad blood between us.” “How long will your parents be away?” "Only a few more days, unless my grandpa's surgery goes bad.” “Wonderful. Listen, Serena. We would like you to stay with us tonight, so that we may begin our search tomorrow.” “What? Stay here?” “Yes. We’ve recovered your purse and SIM, and we can give you a new phone so that you may talk to your parents and friends.” “I get a new phone?” I asked with delight. She smiled. “Yes, the latest version. Just promise not to tell your parents, friends, or the police about what happened today.” “Oh, I won’t. I wasn’t supposed to be body hunting by myself today. My parents would ground me if they found out. And no one else knows about my gift, so I won't tell anyone anything.” “Promise?” “Yes.” “Wonderful. I hope you enjoy your stay with us.” She let go of my hands and stood up. “Mika, please escort our guest to her room.” And here I am, in this awesome room with the softest bed and newest phone. They even gave me cookies and milk for dinner! I just finished talking to my parents and apologizing to my friends, and I can’t wait to help Cassiopeia find her brother tomorrow! \----- **Part 1** - [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16t66yn/i_see_corpses_glow_and_i_wish_i_didnt/) - [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16u2kp1/i_see_corpses_glow_and_im_sick_of_it/) - [Part 4](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16uymin/i_see_corpses_glow_and_now_i_know_why/) - [Part 5](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16xcmt0/i_see_corpses_glow_and_i_can_do_so_much_more_final/) \----- [SR](https://www.reddit.com/r/Skittishreflections)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16s85s5/i_see_corpses_glow/

nosleep

SkittishR

I found a strange diary in my late grandpa's house.

So, for context, I'm visiting my late grandpa's house as usual. I decided to explore his house and managed to find a strange place in his basement. His house was built like, in 2005. I discovered that the strange place was a apartment! I'm not really sure how his house was built above a very old apartment but technology is kind of weird by itself. The apartment was built around 1927 in early July, very cool. It closed down in March 14th 1999. I'm guessing the apartment was like around 70 years old. I also found this diary from a guy named Michael B. Its strange so I decided to share it with you guys. Honestly it gave me the chills. 'Diary Entry 1 - March 15th, 1999 Today was amazing. I woke up feeling great, fresh and ready for life! Mrs. Delilah delivered me her famous Gumbo and it was great. Life has never been better! I'm feeling tired after a long day of work, so I'll take a nap. Diary Entry 2 - March 15th, 1999 (continuation) So..I woke up just as any normal person would do after nap. But, something wasn't normal. My room is dark right now and I'm currently using the flashlight Mr.Norman gave me. All my furniture is gone for some reason..am I getting evicted? I mean, I pay my rent on time and it's always the designated price. I'm scared. The room is cold, empty and eerily quiet. I found a piece of paper that was in the place of where my phone would've been. It looks like it was ripped and written in a hurry. It read 'Do you know where you are?' What the actual hell? What does this creepy note mean? Where are my things? Where am I? Diary Entry 3 - March 16th, 1999 Finally got the courage to leave my room today. The hallway outside was..unrecognizable. The lights kept flickering, it emitted a haunting buzzing sound, casting eerie shadows on old, yellow painted walls. The carpet was semi-wet and it had horrible, musty old odor. I don't think this is my apartment building..it can't be. I walked carefully down the hallway and the only sounds were the buzzing of lights, creaky carpet floor and echoes of my own steps. I reached to Mrs.Delilahs door, and my heart sank. Mrs. Delilah, the kind elderly woman who lived in-front of my apartment door, was like a second grandmother to me. She'd always greet me in a warm smile while music of the 40's would play in her room. This time, her door wasn't answered. Its like she also vanished. Diary Entry 4 - March 17th, 1999 I've explored the entire apartment, but there wasn't any trace of someone..or someTHING. Its like I got transferred to a place I'm not familiar with. The entire building is empty, all hallways seems so..endless. The only sounds still are the horrible flickering lights and its loud buzzing noises. Miraculously, I found a phone! But, when I tried to call 999, nothing happened. Theres no signal. I'm trapped here with no way out. Diary Entry 5 - March 20th, 1999 It's been 5 whole days ever since this fucking nightmare started. The solitude is so unbearable. Is this hell? I don't know where I am, how I even got here or why my world seems so strange and replaced with this hell of a nightmare. I've knocked on Mr.Norman's door countless of times trying to find at least one person, but no answers. I did the same with Mrs.Delilah's door, but theres nothing. I'm truly beginning to believe I'm alone in this hell. The walls are like closing into me, I feel like I'm being watched when theres nothing in sight. I've searched this building multiple times and no one is here but me. I feel so much pressure in my mind, I'm starting to question my own sanity. I don't think I'll be able to write anymore. But I just hope that someone, somewhere, will find my Diary and find out what happened to me. But with each day passing, I fear I'm going more mad. I don't think theres a way back. My only solution now is to end it all and set my soul free. If you find this, my name is Michael and I'm 34 years old. Diary Entry 6 - March 25th, 1999 I feel numb. I can feel everything happen all at once. My bones are wet, my brain is throbbing. ANIMUS LIBERABITUR ET VIDEOBO FELICITATEM!' This is just creepy as hell. What happened to Michael? Did he just fall into madness? Theres no scientific explanation for what the actual hell happened to him..I feel bad, honestly. And how did my grandpa get this? I just have so many questions.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16s7nqu/i_found_a_strange_diary_in_my_late_grandpas_house/

nosleep

LimboPingo

If the old lady tries to send you to aisle Z, don’t go.

The staffing agency could send me anywhere. Packing wine glasses into styrofoam moulds one week, driving a forklift around a yard the next. Doesn’t bother me. I’ve got to say though, this new place was a little odd. It’s a warehouse full of parts for household appliances. Rubber pipes, sealing caps, cables wound up into tight coils, steel elbow joints. The long and short of it is they give you a trolley somewhat similar to the ones they sell refreshments from on a train, along with a scanner gun and some sheets of paper containing barcodes. Wheel the trolley to the location, scan the barcode, put the item on the trolley, repeat. Once your trolley is full, you go and see Doris, a weepy-eyed elderly lady, who has her helpers empty it. Then you do the same again. For twelve hours. At the start of the shift, Doris hands us the papers, and off we go. A small army of trolley-pushers navigating labyrinthine aisles under sharp electric lights. Ventilation was poor and the ceiling was low, which made the dust inescapable. Items stored in the far reaches of the warehouse were the worst for it because they were so rarely selected. Disturbing layers of dust centimetres thick was no good for the respiratory tract, especially for a smoker like me. It was a bad habit I picked up after my wife died, and that was nigh on twenty years ago. Time that should’ve healed had only layered on more apathy. I mused tiredly about the person who’d designed the warehouse floor-plan. Stock was sequenced so that the more frequently chosen items were stored closer to Doris’s counter, and the aisles were labelled alphabetically. “Z06? This correct?” I said when Doris handed me the sheet one morning. “Yes.” She said without looking up. She licked her fingertip and dished out another sheet. Stock requests for items housed in the aisles beyond perhaps aisle T, were rare. You might see one come through every fortnight. At Z06, I coughed through a cloud of dust to retrieve some kind of pipe sealed in bubble wrap. When I put it on the trolley, the lights cut out. I stood, assuming it was a prolonged flicker. Seconds went by. I felt subtle shifts in the air around me. “Hello?” The lights came back on. I reported the malfunction to the maintenance guy, who grunted. The next day, I was given Z10, Z11 and Z14. “This can’t be right.” I said. “It is.” Doris replied. Puddles had appeared overnight at the entrance to aisle Z. A roof leak. These locations were deeper down the aisle. Once again, the lights went out. I waited. A faint crackling sound echoed from further down. Something brushed my leg. The lights came back on and I lurched out of the aisle, dropping a web of black cables as I went. The next day, I called in sick. On my return, I snatched the paper from Doris’s hand. Z08, Z31, Z35, Z41 and Z42. “This has got to be wrong. I mean, who’s ordering this stuff? The lights don’t even work down there! And the ceiling! It has a giant leak!” “It’s a puddle.” Doris said. “Can’t someone else take this sheet?” “You refusin’ to do the work allocated to you, sir?” I ground my teeth. “No.” I started down aisle Z, sweating despite the cold. The trolley wheels rotated slowly. I grabbed the filter from Z08 and the refrigerator shelves from Z31 and Z35. Z41 and Z42 were the last two locations on the aisle. I craned my head as I approached because they didn’t seem to hold any stock. It was a dark recess. I could see the black cabling I had dropped a couple of days prior. It had been woven between the edges of the recess and wrapped around the exoskeleton of the storage rack. Coiled into the cable were several creatures. Rats, mice, some larger insects. They dangled lifeless in the taut, intricate design. At this point, the lights abandoned me again. I turned and ran, bouncing off the trolley and a shelf as I went. Behind me I heard frantic movement. The scuttling of many legs. I left immediately and won’t be returning.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16rzds2/if_the_old_lady_tries_to_send_you_to_aisle_z_dont/

nosleep

camwalker22

Virus X-93 Outbreak [Part 2]

[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16pj2pq/virus_x93_outbreak_part_1/) As we crawled along the air vent, I felt like Bruce Willis in Diehard—albeit a skinnier and less alpha John McClane. *Come out to Alaska, we'll make a virus, have a few laughs…* Behind me came Karen's grunt of disgust as she struggled in the tight space. Who would have known that when we had signed the divorce papers last year, we would one day find ourselves crawling above our workspace, while the virus we had been working on was currently swimming in the veins of our infected colleagues who lurked below. Not me, anyway. Jeffrey's office—which we were making for—was found on the opposite side of the laboratory. In a twisted sort of way, our little journey allowed us an aerial view of the damage wrought by Virus X-93, like that of a news reporter flying over a bombed city. I counted fifteen dead and a further twelve infected. This gave a total of thirty people (including myself, Karen and Jeffrey), but did not account for everyone. Including the janitor, there should have been thirty-one of us (I did the scheduling). Sadly, as we crawled through the vents, we witnessed this missing person, Dr Eckhart's, end. We were halfway over the main laboratory when a person crawled out from underneath a bench. Why he left the relative safety of his hiding place, we'll never know, but one can only assume that his nerve broke and he wanted to make a run for it. Hoping that a safer place existed. It did not, and his clumsy movements attracted the attention of the nearby infected, who mercilessly ran him down as he tried to flee. Above, we watched, horrified. It wasn't so much the screams of pain but the infected's enjoyment of the suffering. One even began to laugh like a hyena, a cold, calculated chuckle that made me believe they were more intelligent than I first thought. They had an awareness of each other, as if they were a primitive primate society. It made me almost grateful that we hadn't been able to overcome the hydrophobia symptom which would ultimately see them perish. At best, they had a lifespan of 3 days. During my years working on Virus X-93, whenever I watched or read anything remotely to do with zombies, this was almost my first point of argument. All living things, down to the smallest organisms, needed water. Failing to replenish H2O would ultimately restrict muscular movement, and the many hours I had watched infected mice refuse to take a drink almost felt like a blessing now. In summary, therefore, there is no evidence to believe that even in the event of an outbreak of Virus X-93, human extinction would be remotely possible. Perhaps lower than zero-point zero one percent. Yes, you drop a couple of infected in Times Square and all hells gonna break loose, but humans would quickly outlast and eradicate the threat. Even if we are a stupid bunch. Nothing to worry about then? No, I guess not, other than I have to escape the underground laboratory… I came to the opening in the vent above Jeffrey's office and opened the grate. For all my clever observations, it wasn't really going to help me if the infected smashed through the glass panels into Jeffrey's office. I swung down from the duct and was thankful the blinds were closed. Karen followed afterwards and the last to descend was a red-faced Jeffrey. "They have lots of energy," he whispered to me. "Think the mutation we performed—" "That's enough," Karen hissed. "Can you two stop it?" I did not answer, but was actually glad Karen had interrupted. Being inside Jeffrey's office with the blinds closed made my imagination run wild. I had images of them kissing, while I, oblivious to the world, walked past. Being the sucker I was, I bet I had walked past, daydreaming about alterations to the virus, while Jeffrey was behind the glass with my wife … "Yes," I whispered. "Let's get the power to the elevators back on and get the hell out of here." Jeffrey nodded, and crouched over towards his desk, opening the sleek laptop. When he lifted the screen, it made a loud PING, a noise which seemed to reverberate around not only the laboratory—but the whole of Alaska. *PIIINNNNGG. We're down here, come get us!* We held our breath, waiting for it—the infected zoning in on us. But they never came, and Jeffrey wiped the sweat from his brow and started typing in the password to the laptop. Karen and I waited near the air vent. You better believe that we would have been up that grate faster than you can say "Jeffrey" had the infected smashed into the office. As we waited, Karen and I made eye contact for a second. I had expected a cold look, but instead she gave me a smile. A smile tainted with sadness that read: *what happened to us, Frank?* I looked away. *I don't know what happened*. You couldn't have got a tighter couple when we first started dating. We were that couple who you knew truly loved each other; the one's others would look for small signs to comfort themselves that the relationship had cracks. Yet although they looked, no one ever found anything. That was us. *What happened to us, Frank?* This happened. Virus X-93. We gave our lives to manipulate nature, and it came back to haunt us. Trapped away in an underground laboratory in Alaska, I thought I was at the forefront of science. In reality, the best I could have hoped for was a payoff that would buy a holiday home in Florida … that is what happened to us. Our infected colleagues outside are what happened to us. "Done," Jeffrey said, snapping me out of my gloomy thoughts. "God knows what's gone on up there, but there's been no message. It could be worse than down here." I gulped. "Well, I guess we just have to find out. We should use the vent to get right over the elevators. Get as close as we can before they can get to us." Feeling more like a team now the elevators were back on, I gave Karen a boost back into the air vent. I felt more nervous now, possibly because there might have been a chance of an escape. I followed Karen up and was surprised to see a cockroach scuttle beside my head up there. Strange, for the laboratory was considered a sterile environment. Below the infected were agitated, growing frustrated that they could find no other live victims. Once over the grate near the elevator, Karen turned her head back and whispered, "Okay. Here goes nothing—" *—An infected stumbled down the corridor, chuckling to himself—* We waited until his footsteps faded, then a deathly white Karen craned her neck back once more. "I'm going down." "Good luck," I mouthed. Unhinging the grate, she disappeared, and I shuffled along the air vent, adrenaline pumping round my body. It was do or die time, and I dropped down into an empty corridor. Karen was already standing at the elevator switch, tapping the button like she was late for an important meeting. The very action set of a chain of events; the first being the low grumbling noise of the elevator moving, which seemed to spread out to every crevice on level 5. It was right out of a horror movie—for even though I couldn't see them—I could picture the infected suddenly snapping their heads to one side, growling at the mechanical whirring. "Come on!" I hissed to Jeffrey, who was still in the vent. Being a larger man he was having a much harder time of squeezing down the gap. With the art of deception well and truly finished, the first infected appeared at the end of the corridor, crashing against the wall like a drunk. Gnashing, snarling, then sometimes screaming in pain, the once young scientist began sprinting towards us. With a cling the elevator doors opened. I had half forgotten that the rest of the military base might have been compromised, so I was nearly frozen by the sight of a dead soldier slumped at the back of the elevator. It was only Karen screaming and dragging me inside the elevator that I made it—otherwise I would have just stood there like a dummy, observing the dead soldier. Karen smashed her hand against the buttons, pressing levels 4,3,2 all at once. An accident we would have to worry about later. Meanwhile, we were busy urging Jeffrey on, who was still only halfway down the air vent when the doors began to shut. I think he must have heard the closing doors because he let out a terrified squeal and shouted, "Wait!" Finally, he dropped down, but the moment he touched the floor, he knew it was too late. We all knew it was too late—and we were not going to wait for him. Now, before anyone reading this begins to accuse Karen or myself, you should know that in a situation like this, the body reverts to a basic survival instinct. Yes, in the movies, they dash out of the elevator and save their friend (lover), but in reality, life is not like that. Stepping outside that elevator would have been the equivalent of stepping in front of a train. Unless you wish to end your life, your brain/body will not let you do so. It's not that you don't want to—it's that you can't. And that is why Karen stood there with her hand over her mouth, unable to move. She would never see Jeffrey's last look because she let out a moan and averted her eyes. But I would—I would see his face slump, not because he was about to be eaten alive, but out of sheer heartbreak that his lover of the last few years would leave him to die. I saw a man who truly understood the meaning of the word alone. A man who fully understood that the true monsters in the laboratory were not the infected, but us, humans. They were our creations and ultimately the act of playing God had transformed us into the devil. We heard—yet did not see the young scientist collide with Jeffrey. The only way I can describe it is like that of a distracted quarterback who suddenly sees his sweetheart in the crowd and waits a fraction too long to throw the ball. All we heard was the sickening crunch of a body against a body, and the tearing of flesh as the infected bit into his throat. I don't think Jeffrey [even screamed.](https://www.reddit.com/r/HopefulEducation75/) ​

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16s1n4t/virus_x93_outbreak_part_2/

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HopefulEducation75

Tape 5: Eripmav

[Part 4](https://reddit.com/r/nosleep/s/NP6FE6W5W7) *A fence with a metal gate is shown, an older looking man approaches it.* *The man opens the gate and reveals a large cow pasture, there's about fifty cows walking on the pasture.* *The cows themselves look to be very well taken care off, some of them are eating fresh grass, while the others are drinking water from the water troughs.* *While most of the cows seem to be carefree and perfectly healthy, one of the cows is standing far away from them and looks extremely sick, it is far skinnier than the rest of the group, a swarm of flies is hovering over it's head.* *The man approaches the ill cow, it seems to look even worse up-close, the poor animal looks like it's lucky to even be alive, the sickly cow doesn't even seem to notice the man as it stares at the fence, it's eyes are foggy and white.* *Sorrow appears on the man's wrinkly face, he takes a look at the nearest water trough, the water inside seems to be tainted, the liquid's color seems to be pale red.* *The man immediately drains the water trough, then he hastily cleans it and fills it up with fresh water.* *The man takes out a phone out of his pocket and makes a call.* Man: It's an emergency, I need you here right now, Jack! *He quickly ends the call and waits.* *Not even five minutes pass, a muscular man wearing a cowboy hat and black rubber boots joins the old man.* Jack: Hey there, Abe! What's the problem? Abe: Well, take a look for yourself! *Abe points at the sickly cow.* *Jack takes a look at the unfortunate cow.* Jack: Jesus! What the hell happened here? Abe: I have no idea, first time I've ever seen anything like this. Bessy was as healthy as ever yesterday, now look at her! She's barely hanging on.* *Abe takes a deep breath.* Abe: She won't last more than a day. Please, just end her suffering.* *Jack pats Abe's shoulder.* Jack: Go take a rest, I'll take care of Bessy, she'll pass peacefully, I promise. Abe: I appreciate it. *Abe hands the gate key to Jack.* Jack: I'll return the key to you after I finish up here, it won't take too long. *Abe leaves the pasture.* *It seems like a couple of hours have passed, Abe is sitting in a rocking chair and holding a glass of whisky.* *The doorbell rings.* *Abe quickly leaves his drink on the nearby table and rushes to open the front door.* *He opens the door and sees Jack.* Jack: I've taken care of old Bessy, I'm sorry it had to come to this. Abe: Thank you, old friend. I've just opened a good bottle of scotch, why don't you join me? Jack: Can't say no to that! *Jack enters Abe's home.* *Abe leads Jack to his small living room, Abe pours Jack a glass of expensive looking scotch whisky.* *The friends seem to enjoy each other's company, they chat about various topics and seem to enjoy the whisky.* *Hours pass, Jack looks at the silver watch on his wrist.* Jack: It's already so damn late, time flies when you're having fun! Unfortunately, I can't stay any longer, have to fix the old tractor, can't really do that without getting some shut-eye. Abe: That's a shame. *The two friends sit up and approach the front door.* *As soon as Abe opens the door, the sound of cattle in distress is heard, the cows are mooing loudly.* Abe: Seems like luck is still not on my side. *Abe goes to the living room and grabs a hunting rifle, he quickly hurries back.* Abe: I'll bring this old thing, just in case! Jack: Sounds good, I'll watch your back. *The two friends quickly walk towards the pasture gate, the mooing is getting louder and more frantic.* *Abe unlocks the gate, the two friends hastily open the gate and enter the pasture.* *As soon as they look in the direction of the frightened cows, they are met with a dreadful sight.* *A skinny, dark red intruder is standing beside the water trough and cutting it's wrists deeply with it's long sharp nails, even though the creature looks to be 1.8 feet tall, the creature's arms are lanky and incredibly long, if fully extended they seem to be able to touch the ground. The creature's head is humanlike, but it doesn't have even one hair on it, even the eyebrows are missing.* *It's wrists bleed heavily, dark red blood drips into the water and slowly gives the water a reddish hue.* *Most of the cows continue running in circles and mooing frantically, but five of them start drinking the contaminated water.* *The two friends stare in disbelief as the cows rapidly ingest the bloody water.* *As soon as the cows stop drinking the water, their eyes become pearly white, their pupils seemingly disappear.* *The creature stops cutting itself and looks at the five cows, the animals obediently look at the creature, seemingly hypnotized.* *Abe grabs the hunting rifle and skillfully aims it at the disturbing intruder, he shoots one bullet and hits the creature straight in the head.* *The bullet passes through the creature's forehead as blood gushes out of the open wound, the five cows scramble to lick the spilled blood.* *Surprisingly, the creature easily shrugs off the damage, it doesn't even react to the wound.* *Seemingly amused, the creature looks at Abe while it's wound rapidly heals, not even ten seconds pass and the wound completely disappears.* *The creature smiles while looking at Abe, it's smile is unnaturally wide, it is then that I notice a disturbing feature of the mysterious intruder, it has no teeth.* *The creature extends it's eerily long arm and points at Abe and Jack.* *The five cows instantly start running towards the two friends.* *Abe and Jack exit the pasture in a hurry, Abe tries to lock the gate while his hands tremble uncontrollably.* *Unfortunately, he doesn't lock it in time as the five sick cows stampede through the gate.* *The five cows mercilessly trample on Abe and Jack, screams of agony are heard as the cows easily crush the bodies of both men.* *The creature approaches the mangled bodies of the men, their heads have already turned into a bloody mush under the weight of the frenzied cows.* *The creature looks at the crushed corpses of the men and smiles once again, it's toothless grin remains as it starts eating the soft, crushed remains of the men.* *TAPE ENDS* *I stare at the screen in shock.* *This time, instead of the usual warning, a different disclaimer appears.* *"YOU'VE MADE IT TO THE HALFWAY POINT, A TWENTY MINUTE BREAK IS ALLOWED, CONTINUE WATCHING AS SOON AS THE TWENTY MINUTES PASS!"* *I want to use the surprising twenty minute break in all it's glory, so I'll end this part here.*

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16s5a1c/tape_5_eripmav/

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GeneralP123

The green eyed man Part 1: movie night

The jumbled, discordant mess of the day was alike every day before it and filled me with a well-known pain as the dim lights of cars flickered past our own. I had given up trying to convince my mother to let me stay home and study, I wasn't in the mood to argue, and the dizzying tilted ache of my brain agreed. The world was technicolor, yet painfully dark, an unwelcome yet unavoidable experience. "This is why I tell you to sleep, " my mother trilled from the front, her excited voice a drill to my skull. "I can see your head lolling around, that difficult to stay awake, huh?" She giggled. My mother, for all her accolades, had the empathy of a competitive fourth standard child. I slumped further down into the seat, trying to avoid my mother's sparkling chartreuse eyes. "I don't want to s--" I began, then stopped as I felt the powerful urge to grab my brain out of my skull and twist it. It was a fairly normal feeling. The lift to the theatre was a painfully bright blur. I watched as three men walked in, only to promptly traipse out, holding long, brown chairs and chuckling. "Aiyyo, did you see that girl?" one of them said in Tamil "You'll stay focused nilla," my mother whispered as the men faded into the distance. "You'll not be a paltry crackpot." The odds of me becoming a paltry crackpot were fairly slim. This trip was a breach of my daily routine, but it certainly wouldn't disrupt my sanity. And stay focused on what? The theatre was comfortingly dark, the seats cozy and the air conditioner harmonious with the smell of Vicks. My brain began to soothe itself. That headache hadn't been too bad, barely a prick. I swum in the soupy semiconsciousness, my brain too dim to consider the consequences of sleeping at the wrong time, sleeping in public. Everything was fine now and would remain the same for as long as...as long as... The screen before me fizzled, the words Troll (1986) flickering on the screen before the wires were expelled, turning the room brighter. I closed my eyes, yet the light remained, white and powerful, reddening my eyelids, sending pain shooting through my skull. Potre will get you I felt an uncharacteristic wave of relief. It was over, the movie had begun, that was just a nightmare formed from the depths of my dizzy brain... Potre will get you The words shared the same intonation. "Mama," I spoke, turning to the haze beside me, "mama, what's a potre?" The haze cleared. The seat beside me didn't contain my mother, it contained a short, plump little girl, red hairband so far down her head it reminded me of a necklace. She turned to me and screamed. Then, and only then did the screen before us buzz. "My... My... " The words were tinny, wavering in an inconsistent and slow crescendo, until they cleared up to the frequency of a school speaker. "If anyone on this stage has found a young girl, about nineish, named Nilla Aadhavan, please bring her to the stage immediately." The voice was chillingly formal, its sharply British accent sending a spiral of dread through my heart. I turned and the girl beside me was already far away, scampering up the stairs until she crawled out the back door and I wished to follow her. The place was full of people but that didn't change the fact that someone in the crowd was looking for me, and I didn't want to find them. I stood shakily and took the girl's route, whipping behind taller, bigger bodies (a notoriously difficult act, considering my height) and found myself outside, the door closing satisfyingly behind me as screams began to erupt from within the hall. The girl was there, leaning beside the door, and my mother was beside her, holding her shoulders as she shivered against my mother's stomach. "I don't want to die Mrs Lennox, I don't want to die." My mother must've told the girl her name. "Nilla," she turned to me. "We've got to go. I'm sorry, girl." She thrust the girl away and, with hurried footsteps, we made it to the car park and then back home, my head even more of a colorful soup than before. All I knew were three things: My name was Nilla Aadhavan, I was nine and three quarter years old, and my presumption about movie night being normal was utterly ridiculous to say the absolute least.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/16siu10/the_green_eyed_man_part_1_movie_night/

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nilla-aadhavan-01