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City Horror

I should mention that I previously lived in a tiny town, but went to high school in a considerably larger city. I never had a reason or the nerve to go out in the city on my own, so when my two friends wanted to hang around town, I was nervous, to say the least. However, I thought, "eh, what the hell, I'll be with them."We had a blast for a couple of hours after school, with some small scary incidents along the way, including, walking through a store full of expensive statues and gemstone with a massive backpack protruding from my back, and the original restaurant we wanted to go to was closed, forcing us to Subway.However, as it got dark, we all knew we had to go home, so we all enjoyed one last store, and went on our separate way. I waited outside the store, alone, in the dark, not terribly afraid. Yet. I had told my mother where to find me, but she's hopeless with directions, so I had expected to be hanging around for a while. I noticed a news camera stationed outside the store, which made me feel even safer.But about ten minutes into the wait, I was approached by two men. My memory is fuzzy, due to how freaked I was, but this is what I remember."Hey, do you know where (name of a town that I can't remember) is?" I shook my head. I was already nervous because I'm a paranoid person on the best of days. And this was not turning out to be the best of days."Aw, come on," one man coaxed. "Listen, we'll give you a bag of jewelry if you help us," the other man said. Now, I was genuinely freaking out. I glanced around and noticed the news camera and stepped a little closer to the line of sight of the lens. "L-listen," I stammered, trying REALLY HARD not to stammer or show how freaked I was. "I think it's that way, and I don't need anything," I said, pointing in random-ass direction. They glanced in the direction of my finger. They glanced back. "Can you show us? Again, we have a bag of jewelry." It felt as if my heart leaped into my throat. "No, thank you, and my mom is coming to get me," I declined as calmly as I could. They stared at me for a few seconds, then nodded, thanking me and heading off in the direction I pointed at. I kept well in the line of sight of the news camera until my mother picked me up.I didn't fully relax for a full week. I have absolutely no idea why they were so eager to give me that bag of jewelry. My first thought was that they stole it, and wanted to throw the police off their trail by handing some of it off to me. The second was that they were trying to lure me away with the jewelry. Either way, it wouldn't have ended well for me, if that was their goal. No one believed me, but I didn't expect them to, really.I have never felt comfortable in the city, alone, in the dark, ever since, even though it's been two years and I now live in a decently-sized city, for college.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/e19ht7/city_horror/

freehorrorstories

Thegaydwarf

Babysitting Horror story

I am a 17 year old girl and I work over night with 3 girls. Ages 11, 8, and 3 but the 3 year old has autism. Well it all started when I sent them to bed nothing abnormal about that, right? Well it was 11 pm and the 8 year olds light was still on and there bed time is at nine. She does not have a door to lead into her room will I so quietly suck out of the room I was staying in to go see what she was doing. She of course was on her phone. I asked what she was doing and she jumped because I suck up on her. Well she said she was just turning it off well I thought that was odd because she said it weird so I asked for the phone. As I was putting it up lots of notifications were popping up. They were text messages so me being the noise-y teenager I am looked to see what the text were. To my surprise it was Sex talk from multiple ladies in there 20 or 30. I did not know how to react so I open up the phone to see what was going on. That was a mistake. As soon as I open it a video of a lady shitting in a mans mouth appeared full volume. Keep in mind she is 8! I amedeatly text the mom and apologize for going on the phone and I also tell her what I find. I continued my investigation and there was so many messages from ladies asking if they want to see their pussy's or watch them play. The search history was a bunch of pooping in mouths, peeing in mouths, and sex. I was shocked She is 8 years old I don't know where to go from looking at the phone. Should I quite my job?

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/dwn6ll/babysitting_horror_story/

freehorrorstories

zwest8802

[TRUE] The room with the train

This story is not about a ghost, or an encounter with a creepy stranger. It's not even about a near death experience or something like that; as a matter of fact, I was never in danger during the event I'm about to tell you about. None the less, it's a disturbing memory that I will carry with me until the day I die. I grew up in a small city, the kind of place you could barely call a town if it wasn't for the sheer number of people living there. Downtown was only a couple of blocks long, and in the middle of it was one of the biggest buildings in the area. It was the local movie theater, named after the city. I remember going there when I was very young, about seven years old, and watching the first Pokémon movie. It was probably nothing compared to the theaters we have nowadays, but back then it was huge for me. I loved it. So when a few years later I heard the cinema was going out of business, I felt really sad about it. The building was sold to a religious group that used it for their services. You know the type: loud music, big crowds with their arms in the air singing prayers, some having seizures on stage while the pastor yells through a mic. Every time I walked past the old cinema, I would see the announcements of the congregation where the movie posters would have been, and if they were in session, you could hear them singing from the other side of the street. This group owned the cinema for nearly a decade, until the local government bought back the building in order to restore it as a historic landmark of the city. When this happened I was studying construction, with the intent to follow architecture or civil engineering at college, and my class was very lucky to be involved with the cinema's restoration project because two of our teachers were architects working on it. I will always remember the day we went to visit the old cinema. Our class was small, only a handful of students, but we were all around the same age, so we all shared childhood memories of when the cinema was operational. We ran through the corridors of the auditorium, sat in the chairs just like we did when we were little kids, and began stomping on the wooden floor with our feet, filling the entire room with the echoes of our drumming and our laughters (a little "ritual" or sorts everyone used to do right before the beginning of the movie) Once nostalgia time was over, we went back to the purpose of the trip, and began to survey the building. We were very excited because that was a unique opportunity to go into the places we would have never been allowed to otherwise, so we made sure to check every last corner, every single room. No matter how far. No matter how obscure. The first one we found was below the stage. On one of the corners there was a little door, not very visible - probably because it was meant for maintenance staff only. Behind it we found a long room filled with rusty boilers, part of the old heating system that was no longer in use. The place was a little creepy, with all of those old tanks and pipes crowding the narrow space, but what we found past them was what really started to freak us out. This room was small, very small. It was, after all, basically just left over space behind the boilers. Yet it contrasted so much with the rest of the area around it, it may as well have been from a different place altogether. The walls were painted a light color, white I think, but I don't remember it very well because what really got my attention were the drawings in them. There were rainbows, a smiling sun, trees and flowers, and happy little people with smiles on their faces of dotted eyes. It was a daycare. The whole class and teacher gathered to see the discovery. We were all very confused about the strange placing of this room. Okay, we could understand the need for a place to keep the kids that were too little to be amongst the crowd during prayers, or maybe the ones of the people who worked there, but the placing was just... odd. The stage was probably one of the loudest places in the auditorium during the services, and this was right below it, so there was no way it could be a quiet place for the children. We left the boilers room and continued our tour through the theater, a little puzzled about our finding but not giving it too much thought. Outside of the auditorium there were the bathrooms (both in terrible condition), the tickets sale booth, and a huge set of stairs that led to a mezzanine in the auditorium. Half of the seats there were totally ruined due to a water leak in the roof, and I cursed these people for not taking proper care of the building. With that part done, all that was left was the projection room, on the third floor. Behind the tickets booth there was a door that led to a spiral stair. I don't remember how tall it actually was, but it must have been over ten meters of metallic steps without a single resting spot. I wasn't exactly an athlete, but I could walk several kilometers with no problem, and rode on a bike to and from school every single day. Yet by the time I reached the top of the stairs, I was exhausted. And I wasn't the only one: all of my classmates complained about how hard it was to walk up there. After a short break to catch our breath, we moved on to explore the third floor. It was roughly a narrow passageway with a couple of divisions to form different rooms, but it was more than enough for what it was made for. The first room from the stairs was a storage deposit, probably where they kept the movies and other equipment, and except for some trash it was mostly empty. The second room was the one we were all excited to see: the projector room. The old machine was so big that it was still there, and there were even some pieces scattered around. It was quite a piece of history, and we were all very thrilled to check it out, so no one really bothered to move on to the very last room until we were about to leave. And there we saw it again. There was a train in this one instead of a rainbow. Something was written on it, in big, colorful letters; something about Christ, I can't remember it well. The drawings were a bit old, the paint slightly peeled from the walls, but the colors were just as cheerful as you would expect for a place where children play. My heart sank to my stomach, as I came to the realization of what that place really was, the one behind the boilers probably serving the same purpose. I took notice of how isolated that room was, literally the furthest away you could possibly get from everyone else. I thought about the three floors of stairs, and imagined what it would have been like to a child to walk all the way up, only to end up in that room, the room with the colorful train in the wall. My classmates and I exchanged horrified expressions, as I knew they were thinking the same. We never visited the theater again, even though we continued with the restoration project for several months, and we never talked about those two rooms. Cases of molestation in the church are well known by everyone, to the point that the pedo-priest is practically a cliché. But this is the kind of thing you think happens in some place far away, in another city, even in another country. You never imagine it can happen in the very same town you live. The place where you grew up. In the very same building where you once watched a Pokémon movie when you were seven years old.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/dsb9j4/true_the_room_with_the_train/

freehorrorstories

Krlytz

[TRUE] Four AM Fire

I live in an old apartment building. I’ve been here for about two years and my roommate and I have had very few scary experiences so far...Except for this one that happened last summer. It was around four in the morning when we were woken from a dead sleep by the fire alarms going off throughout our entire four-story apartment building. Seeing as this place is occupied mostly by seniors, we figured someone had left a pot on the stove again. I grumbled and blindly grabbed for a blanket—last time we had a false alarm, I was left shivering and barefoot on the sidewalk waiting for the fire department, and I wasn’t about to let that happen again. My roommate and I put on our shoes, I grabbed my phone and keys, and we poked our head out into the hallway. Nothing seemed off—the hall was empty, no one else had come out of their apartments yet. Reluctantly, my roommate and I walked down the hall toward the lobby. We figured our neighbours would soon follow suit. It was only when we went through the lobby and out the front door that we realized something was actually wrong. A handful of people who had already come out of the building were running and shouting about how the building was actually on fire this time. We followed them around to the side of the building as more and more people fled in their pajamas and to our horror, we saw an apartment on the top floor belching out flames. People were frantic, searching for water, a ladder, anything—someone remarked that there was a lady who lived in that apartment who had mobility issues and she needed to be rescued *now,* and *where the hell was the fire department*? My roommate was quite disturbed by the whole scene so we decided to go back to the front of the building, away from the fire. On our way, we saw a guy jump off his balcony to the ground. He rolled when he landed, but I think it still really hurt, judging from how he sat on the grass and groaned for a while. He was lucky to only be on the second floor. There was chaos, yelling, screaming, an odd mix of panic and disinterest, especially among the senior citizens who didn’t want to leave the building because using the stairs was so difficult. The fire department arrived much quicker than they ever had before, seeing as this was a real emergency, and it wasn’t long before elderly ladies in nightgowns were being rescued via ladders and wheeled off to the hospital next door. At one point the man who lived below the apartment on fire had a screaming episode at one of the landlords, the one that looked like a walking skeleton with an oxygen tank and a scooter. By the time the fire department got everything under control, it was around 6 or 7 am. The sun was up and people were beginning their morning commute. The fire department had blocked off our whole street, which must have been a pain, and the entire population of my building sat on the curb in pajamas and blankets. Little kids, old people, broke college kids, the works. The community really pulled together that morning—the public bus service gave us a couple buses to sit and warm up in instead of standing around on the chilly sidewalk. Paramedics handed out blankets and assessed injuries. The people in the surrounding houses were kind enough to bring us water and snacks—one lady brought a serving tray with mugs of tea from her own kitchen and offered it to anyone she could find. My mum came down to rescue my roommate and I, even though she lived an hour outside of town and hadn’t even showered yet. She brought us breakfast and a change of clothes, as we didn’t know when we’d be allowed back into the building. The most disturbing details of what had just taken place that morning came to us as we were waiting on the bus. Everyone was talking about the fire, of course, but one man had a particularly horrifying detail to add. He’d heard through the grape vine that the lady whose apartment caught fire never made it out of the building. Sadly, we suspected as much, with her mobility issues and all. But there was more. The firefighters apparently found her in the hall—she had made it out of her apartment, but couldn’t escape the smoke. Whether she died from smoke inhalation or from burns, we aren’t sure. But one thing that man said that sticks with me is that someone said that as they stood outside and watched the flames they heard the woman screaming “help me, I’m burning.” I’ve always been afraid of burning to death, and the idea that my neighbour may have had such a horrifying end is deeply disturbing. I know the man who lived below her heard her screaming—he wouldn’t stop talking about it. I think he ended up with a form of PTSD from this event, and I don’t blame him. We were all brought to a community center where the fire department and emergency response volunteers helped bring some clarity to the situation and told us what to expect. Everyone was very kind and sympathetic to us, whatever we needed, they provided for us. I think all of that is pretty standard procedure, but still, I was extremely thankful to the kindness of the volunteers, firefighters, paramedics and good samaritans. It was pretty surreal to be in a situation like that. We had almost nothing on us—my roommate hadn’t thought to grab her phone so she had to borrow mine to let her family know she was okay. We had no money, no ID, none of the essentials, and we had no idea how long we would be homeless. I hadn’t been so happy to have my mum with me in a long time. I felt like a scared little girl, even if I didn’t show it. We were lucky. The fire happened on the opposite end of the building from us. Our unit was totally unaffected, and we were one of the few allowed back into our apartment that same day. The building stunk of smoke for weeks. Even though the fire took place on the fourth floor in a single apartment, the damage was extensive. Even on the ground floor, the walls were blackened with ash. When they attempted to start fixing up the building, they found asbestos in the walls. A few people were forced to move out of their apartments, and we’re talking people who had lived there for around thirty years. I remember the night we were allowed back into our apartment, I wanted to box up my most important possessions and keep them in my car, as if I thought the building was going to catch fire again. My home didn’t feel safe anymore, and it wouldn’t for several weeks. It would take a long time for us to hear anything about what caused the fire; last I heard, a space heater was to blame, but I don’t know for sure. In the days that followed, the fire was featured on the front page of the local paper—the family that lived just down the hall from us were featured in the picture. The article spelled out details that I had already heard. It labelled the guy that lived below the fire as a “hero” for attempting to save the lady upstairs. It was a valiant effort, but there was nothing he could’ve done without endangering himself. I feel sorry for him, and I often wonder if the guilt keeps him up at night. Sometimes I think about the lady who passed away in this building. I listen to a lot of ghost stories, so I wonder if her spirit haunts this place. Her sudden and horrifying death would be the sort of thing to make a ghost linger on earth, wouldn’t it? So many things left unfinished. Regardless, I hope she’s at peace and I hope that my neighbours have been able to find some semblance of peace as well. Four months later we’ve regained a sense of normalcy, things are back to how they were before, if you ignore the orange tarps around the side of the exterior, the restoration vans that come and go every day, and the security guards stationed in the lobby. The damaged wing is still closed while they try and sort out the asbestos situation, but for those of us who live on the other end of the building, things are relatively normal. I hope they stay that way.

https://www.reddit.com/r/freehorrorstories/comments/dmt7ci/true_four_am_fire/

freehorrorstories

AviGABS

Official YouTube Thread part 2: The Electric Spookyloo

Please post here. [Link to previous thread](https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/k3sq0m/official_youtube_content_thread/)

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/oqi8pw/official_youtube_thread_part_2_the_electric/

TrueScaryStories

Batman-and-Hobbes

The spooky alarm

This happened like 20 minutes ago, but I feel it deserves to be shared. So at about 5:30am I woke up to finish some homework and walked from my bedroom to the room next door called the computer room because our mac is there. The second I walk in, I hear this super creepy alarm start playing. It sounded like the end of that ABC spelling song sung by ghosts which that music box instrumental, just **plain creepy**. It went on for maybe 5-7 seconds and I was shaken, screaming "OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT" which woke up my sleeping parents. They checked every device in the house but there were no alarms, and I could only see one possible cause to this mystery when I turned on my mac to see my previous work still saved and open. Along with that, a Spotify page with Halloween Lofi Music **playing on mute**. I checked the last couple songs, but neither of them sound like what I heard (no ghost choir), leaving me with the same questions: Where did that spooky alarm come from, and why did it sound so close by? The Playlist for those who are curious: https://open.spotify.com/album/6qGsZqAsyOerkRALDUlE9U?si=051NMBA7RpOX6VWJxl7Q-g

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/17f9b0a/the_spooky_alarm/

TrueScaryStories

Antique-Suggestion13

Another instance at the burned Asylum

Two months later,there were 11 of us in total(me,K,A,R,N&N,Ds,L,Z,Other Z,and Paco. Using letters of first names). We went a bit after school to the main building. There was a room in particular with a mattress couch in it and some candles. Windows boarded up. Pretty decent sized room. We took chairs there,and all 11 of us decided to smoke the old tree,and D and L were snorting lines of Crystal UnoWhat. After ten minutes of goofing around, Other Z is hand palming saying he doesn't feel too good. He kept saying how much he hated his brother and mentioned having to throw up. He never did though. We heard what sounded like a window falling off the roof. Like it didn't break but it fell and hit the ground. A door way at the end was definitely locked every time we came,so we always had to cross through the holes in the walls. It was a bathroom. That door was open. We tried to kick it open before and break the lock,but those doors were something else. It was open now though. So we split up in three groups,and L and D stayed behind in the room(they did the big nasty in there when we left). It was me,N&N and A, R and K,and Z,Paco and Other Z. We went and swept the entire building expecting someone, and found nothing. So we decided to leave. When we went out on the driveway to meet up,Z and Paco said Other Z vanished. We didn't get it. Other Z was a man to play the pranks and mess with people. They said the entire time before they lost him in the stairwell,he wasn't saying anything. Just looking down a bit. We didn't hear from him for over a month. Not even on Facebook. Idk about my friends,but when I finally hung out with him again he came by and bought everyone boneless chicken wings. He wasn't the same though. The other Z that I knew before hasn't been the same since that day. I feel like it was possession. We used to be close. One of my best friends. I still consider him one,buti don't know if he feels the same. We all lost that ecstatic, goofy fella that day. No one wants to talk about it after the day it happened. To this day,he still has little to no excitement in his voice. Miss brother Z,but what do I know? Maybe people just change

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/17et670/another_instance_at_the_burned_asylum/

TrueScaryStories

UnidastheUndying

Did I see a ghost?

During the holiday season of 2022, I took a trip to visit my older sister. With every room already claimed by my other family members, I found myself sleeping on the living room couch. Our nightly routine involved gathering for a movie in the living room before everyone went to bed for the night. My niece had a cot set up that she would use to relax and eventually fall asleep with my sister carrying her to her bedroom when it was time for bed. One night, I woke up at 3 am to use the restroom and saw my younger sister fast asleep on the carpet beside me. To my surprise, my niece was also in the living room and in her cot, which was strange since my older sister usually carried her to the bedroom before turning in for the night. I did not think much of it and decided to make a quick trip to the restroom. Upon returning just a minute later, I found it odd that the cot was empty. I assumed my niece might have heard me getting up and went to my sister's room. The following morning, I inquired to my sister on why she had left my niece to sleep in the living room. My sister appeared confused, insisting she had carried her to bed as usual like she has done every night since I arrived. I distinctly recalled seeing my niece in her cot during my 3 am awakening, and doing a double take because I found it odd that she was still out there with me. This had left me wondering: Did I see a ghost?

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/17en81c/did_i_see_a_ghost/

TrueScaryStories

Ohmagada

My Friends Dad found a book in there house, The Dad Found something disturbing inside and to this day he won't tell a soul what was inside the book...

I didn't find out about this story until recently, My best friends lived in a area by me, Well when they moved in My friend (who we will call john) John's Dad found a book in the basement of there house, it contained things so disturbing he won't even tell anyone. After he read through it he immediately burned the book. Basically what he explained was in it (which was only a portion) was that the past owners kept there children in the basement and made them work for who knows how long until they moved, there thoughts on the world were also inside, he hasn't told a soul not even his own wife what else was in that book, eventually John's dad moved to another state with the rest of his family. Makes me wonder. Was he trying to get away from the house? Every time I pass by the said house a shiver goes down my spine, to even think of what horrible things happened In that house without anyone knowing keeps me up at night. For me to stay in that house I always felt weird and uncomfortable but couldn't put my finger on it.for the safety of the family and myself I won't give out anymore info on the place. Hopefully the book was made as a prank and the people who lived there before were just some dumb kids. All I can do is hope that it is all a lie.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/17eadvc/my_friends_dad_found_a_book_in_there_house_the/

TrueScaryStories

Awkward_Corner_8709

A streetsweeper stole a cigar butt from me.

So earlier I was on the street smoking a cig and a guy in a streetsweeper uniform with the rubbish cart and everything started following me. Then, when I was about to drop it into the bin he came closer and told me to put it off and give it to him instead (he was allegedly emptying the bin, although it was quite empty yet). Then as I left I could see him putting it into a plastic bag. Like, wtf, weirdo? I bet he wasn't even on the clock and just decided to wear his uniform on a Sunday afternoon to creep on random people and collect their cigars/stuff from their mouths?

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/17e245o/a_streetsweeper_stole_a_cigar_butt_from_me/

TrueScaryStories

PiezoelectricityOne

I think I met a spirit residing in a mental institution

For context, I can't say which one cause I'd probably catch a case for this unless the limitations leave me beyond repercussions,so I cannot say which abandoned institute it was but it was in Indiana. So my friends always went there skipping school. There were seven or eight buildings in total. There are tunnels below we explored, as well as closed off areas where the roof collapsed. Anyways, me and two of my friends (A and K) went to the basement of the first building we ever went to. Theres obviously no lights. So we took some papers and burned them for light,and made a makeshift torch to travel. When we were dome exploring the tunnels,we went back to the stairwell area where the room next to it was with the fire. It was embers now. The room was covered in stacks of papers and metal shelves. So I get this idea to do a low kick to the embers to make a flashy cool looking kick through the embers. It was a terrible idea. (A) called it the "Ken Firestarter Kick" cause I kicked the embers and they IMMEDIATELY engulfed the papers behind in flames. It was a big fire that happened literally in an instant. So we ran upstairs,and explored maybe ten minutes more. Then (K) says "Dude we gotta bounce" and points outside. The smoke was very dark,and there was alot. So we ran as fire trucks went down there. When we heard the sirens we dipped to the train tracks. We made it out. So the next day my buddy (A) wants to skip school there. So we go,and get through the front door. Then from the basement tunnel entrance,a homeless looking guy comes out and asks us what were doing here. We tell him were skipping school. So he says "I'm hunting for treasure here. We can stay as long as we want. JUST DON'T BURN THE PLACE DOWN". I felt like this guy was off. Like he knew something he didn't tell us. Then he said "Be careful" and went into the tunnels. So me and (A) start traveling through,and notice there's Cops outside driving and parking out front. So we panicked and went to the roof,then when another showed we went to the tunnels. We NEVER saw the guy again. We went through both ends,and yeah the tunnels go from every building. We should have ran into him again the ways we went. He was gone. Didn't go out front cause of the cops,so where did he go? I feel like he's one of the few people who went missing when the place closed. Still freaks me out to this day. He HAD to be a spirit. I have more stories from this place,as well as some involving paranormal encounters or just wild days there. Wouldn't mind reliving those moments for all the internet to enjoy lol.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/17dxdbg/i_think_i_met_a_spirit_residing_in_a_mental/

TrueScaryStories

UnidastheUndying

Horror movies and candles

This is a short one but me and my friend was watching the exorcist last night in our cabin in the middle of nowhere, we had at least 5 candles burning to set the mood. The scene where the priests are yelling «the power of christ compells you» ant the second comepells you all the candles at the same time went out. The fact we where in the middle of nowhere where its pitch black out freaked us out at that moment 🥲

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/17drz04/horror_movies_and_candles/

TrueScaryStories

ammiee99

2 guys.

I (16f) have been skate boarding ever since I was 13. Getting catcalled, shouted names, spat on, being hit and stalked was alot for my young age but I've learnt to deal with it. One of my first ever encounters with a boy (14m) was a great time. I was with my group and he was with a friend. Me being 13 at the time with a 14 year old wasn't so bad but I still felt uncomfortable. After a couple of hours my group decided to drop off one of our friends and get some snacks. We all said bye and left the skate park. However, both guys followed us. The friend that was leaving ran to her house which was understandable. The rest of us were creeped out but stood our choice to go to the shops. When we came out I saw them. I told my group to skate away down the hill. We did. Before I left, I asked one of the boys to go away. They both attacked me. They dragged me with them behind the shop and started physically hitting me and sexaully touching me. I screamed and cried. I tried to fight back. I got pushed down onto the floor and infront of me was my board. I grabbed onto it and knocked one of them around the head and ran off. However because I was so weak they still got to me. Luckily my group came back and heard me screaming. We all ran off and I was with bruises on my face. I never saw them again. However, yesterday (now 16) I saw they same boys. I had made more friends and good relationships with boys. We were all there when I recognised them. I told my friends if we could leave and they said no. I felt uncomfortable and did not want to be there. Thankfully they left later. It was near 11 when we all came back to our hang out spot, we decided to go home and come back out tomorrow but I don't want to. So I came home and went straight to bed. For some strange reason I woke up around 4 and looked around my room. There they were. At the end of my bed. I started panicking and crying. I immediately grabbed my phone and put the torch on. Nothing was there. I stayed up that entire night and it is now morning. I don't know if it was trauma or hallucinations. I'm really scared and don't know if I should come out again.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/17cbdse/2_guys/

TrueScaryStories

Unkown147258

The Family House Is Haunted [Pt. 2]

My aunt, a stubborn old woman who lived alone in the old house, had become increasingly susceptible to falls. She resisted using her life alert device and seldom wore it around her neck. It was a daily source of worry for our family, and eventually, the day came when her other two sisters could no longer ignore the need for intervention. They made the difficult decision to admit her into a nursing home, an act she strongly opposed. My mother had spent several nights with her before the dreaded decision was made, hoping to prevent the inevitable move to the nursing home. But despite our best efforts, it was too late. My aunt was placed in the care of the facility, leaving her home empty. With my mother already staying there, I decided to move in, with my aunt's permission, as I felt uneasy about my mom being alone. A good friend of mine, ever helpful and eager to assist, joined me in the endeavor. To save money, my aunt graciously allowed us to use my grandmother's old house to store our belongings temporarily. It was a nostalgic place, one filled with memories of my family's past. However, it also harbored a reputation for being haunted—a fact that had fueled countless ghost stories over the years. As my friend carried the first set of boxes into the house, she suddenly dropped them and ran back to where I was standing next to my truck. Her face was as pale as a ghost, and she was breathing heavily, as though she had just sprinted a marathon. She stammered, "As soon as I entered through the back door and into the hallway, I heard three loud knocks. It gave me the heebie-jeebies." I raised an eyebrow, initially skeptical of her story. The house was old, and it had always been a hub for ghostly tales. Still, something about the intensity in her eyes made me reconsider. The look on her face seemed genuine, and I couldn't ignore the shiver that ran down my spine. After all, in a house with such a haunted reputation, anything was possible. We decided to proceed with the move, albeit with some caution. We continued to transfer our belongings into the house, but neither my mother nor I heard anything out of the ordinary. There were no mysterious knocks or unexplained sounds to be found. It was almost as if the ghosts, if they existed, were selective about their interactions, perhaps only revealing themselves to certain people. Over the following weeks, my friend continued to visit, offering her support and company. She helped with chores around the house, like cutting the grass and weeding the garden. One sunny afternoon, while I was preoccupied clearing away some overgrown brush, I noticed her demeanor change. Her complexion paled once again, and her eyes darted nervously around the yard. Concerned, I approached her and asked what was wrong. She hesitated before finally confessing, "I keep feeling like I'm being watched. And when I looked up at the second-story window, I saw a face." My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a chill wash over me. This wasn't the first time she had been unnerved by the house's presence. She seemed genuinely frightened and on edge. The apparition she described scared the crap out of her, making her feel profoundly uncomfortable and unwelcome. After that day, my friend's visits became increasingly infrequent. She no longer came over to hang out, and when we met, it was always at a neutral location or through phone calls. The experiences she had in the house had left an indelible mark on her, and the apparitions that seemed to inhabit the old house had effectively driven her away. As the months passed, I never heard the strange knocks or witnessed any spectral faces myself, but the stories and encounters of those who had remained lingered in my memory. The house seemed to harbor secrets that were only known to a select few—a world of apparitions and unexplained phenomena that had kept the family's imagination alive for generations. I couldn't help but wonder if the ghosts were the lingering spirits of my grandparents or other, more enigmatic entities. Whatever the truth may be, the haunting of Grandma's house still remains a mystery.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/17bvx9s/the_family_house_is_haunted_pt_2/

TrueScaryStories

Deep-Independence-36

The Family House Is Haunted

When I was a child, my late uncle's chilling ghost stories had a way of seeping into my young mind, filling it with vivid images of the supernatural. His stories were so convincing that, as a kid, it was impossible not to believe in the eerie possibilities he presented. He really loved freaking out his little nieces and nephews. The centerpiece of many of my uncle's eerie narratives was my grandmother's old house, a relic from the past that stood a short distance up the road from the family cemetery. It had a history intertwined with the supernatural, making it the perfect setting for his stories. Several family members had passed away within its walls, including my grandfather and her two infant daughters, who had met untimely deaths. My grandmother often spoke of beings that visited her at the foot of her bed. Their nature a mystery—ghosts or angels, no one could say for sure. Most of the family dismissed her accounts as hallucinations, but my mother and I believed her and my uncle frequently brought her visions to life in story form. Among the many stories I remember him telling, there were two in particular that left an indelible mark on my imagination: the tale of a mysterious light that wandered through the cemetery at the witching hour and a ghost that had visited multiple generations there. Over the years, however, I had three paranormal experiences of my own, all focused around that same house, making me wonder if perhaps my uncle’s tales had been more than just spooky stories. My very first encounter happened on a weekend when we were visiting my grandma. I was just seven or eight years old at the time. I was sitting on the living room floor playing with toys. Some time later I looked at my mom and told her I had to go to the bathroom. When I reached the bathroom door something caught the corner of my eye that totally freaked me out! I saw an apparition so shockingly real that I froze in place. Descending the staircase just beyond the bathroom door was someone wearing a pair of old, light-colored brown pants, accompanied by heavy brown work boots. I couldn’t see above the waist and I knew no one was ever allowed to go upstairs. These were not the attire of the living; they were spectral, anachronistic remnants from another era, like something out of the nineteen twenties or nineteen thirties. My heart raced, and I struggled to process the impossible sight before me. The pants descended the stairs with an eerie, deliberate slowness then stopped. Panic surged through me, I slammed the bathroom door shut and frantically looked for a place to hide. My heart was pounding relentlessly. My mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. Could it be my late grandfather, who had passed away when my mother was just nine years old? I didn’t have long to think about it, before I noticed that the bathroom door wouldn’t open. It had no lock, yet I found myself locked inside, desperately kicking and screaming for help. Minutes felt like hours as I fought to open the stubborn door, my cries for help going unheard. Strangely, the living room, where my parents, grandmother, and aunt were gathered, was just on the other side of the bathroom wall. But no one seemed to hear my frantic cries and screams. The door finally opened and I bolted out of there, running back to the living room. I shut the hallway door with such force that it interrupted my family's conversations. They looked at me puzzled by my sudden entrance. The freaky part is that no one had heard my screams or me pounding on the door. I never told anyone about my encounter including my parents because I didn’t want to be thought of as some nutcase.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/17bvode/the_family_house_is_haunted/

TrueScaryStories

Deep-Independence-36

Weird experience I had visiting a secluded abandoned hospital

As the title says, here’s my account of a weird experience me and 3 friends had while visiting this abandoned hospital that was sorta well known in my hometown when I was in highschool. To give a clearer context, the abandoned hospital was in the middle of an even bigger abandoned site, which was the old « military neighborhood ». The whole place / sector was abandoned for a while, but basically all the location building (which were all identical) were all really well boarded up. However, the hospital itself was accessible through a few broken windows and such. We went there in the middle of the day in summer, broad daylight. It wasn’t my first time there, and quite honestly it was not scary at all, more like adventurous and really interesting to explore / take pictures / etc. I emphasize this aspect because after a few times there, I could tell you there was absolutely no sense of dread/creepiness at all, it was really a nice place to chill. Which might have made us a little too confortable I guess. Anyways, we toured the hospital together, would split from time to time to explore some of the operation rooms and such, and we all regrouped in the center reception area at one point to hang out. The closer I was getting to the main central area, which was located near the biggest open/broken window bay, I noticed that I could hear a repetitive knocking sound that echoed outside. The closer I got the the windows, the clearer the sound got. When we were all together and pretty much ready to leave, my friend also pointed out that he could hear what sounded to him like hammer strikes, on a really constant beat. When he said that, I instantly recognized what I was hearing for the last 10 minutes or so. We got outside through the window bay, and the noise was even clearer and louder at this point. We were quite puzzled as as I said earlier, the whole neighborhood was abandoned, only our car to be seen all around. We got a little skiddish at this point and mainly didn’t wanted to get caught there since it was a restricted area after all. So we headed for the car, and when we turned the corner to the locative building in which we parked in front of, we all froze. There was a guy, hunched over or bent down at the very bottom of an exterior staircase leading to what I assume was the basement of the building. We could only see his back, the guy was wearing a clean cut handyman overall, with a leather tool belt, and he was hammering the bottom the boarded up door. When I saw him and locked eyes on his back, I felt an immense feeling of dread and general terror I rarely felt before, in broad daylight mind you. We were all creeped out and looking at each other. Didn’t said a word, just raced to the car and left. I know it might not sound like much, and nothing that happened couldn’t be explained, but being there and seeing the weird scene was really something else. It’s a feeling that’s hard to explain to someone who wasn’t there. But I still remember this vividly, more than I’d like to.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/17boodt/weird_experience_i_had_visiting_a_secluded/

TrueScaryStories

ludoludoludo

The Family House Is Haunted [Pt. 3]

Summer break had arrived and my children started preparing to spend the upcoming two weeks with their father. After breakfast at the old family house, I had one last chore for them to help me with before their trip. To clean the two bedrooms upstairs in grandma’s old house. You should have seen the look on their faces. First it was dread, suddenly turned into excitement. Since they were old enough to remember the ghost stories here, it sparked their curiosity to see if any of it was true. The house had been the subject of countless ghost stories, and while we were all somewhat apprehensive about stepping foot inside, our family's deep connection to the place made us resolute in our commitment. This house, with its timeworn façade and the echoes of past generations, held a special place in our hearts. That night at dinner, one of my children proposed an idea. "Why don't we take a camera upstairs and see if we can capture any ghosts or something?" He flashed a mischievous grin, the kind only a child can wear when proposing something both thrilling and terrifying. I pondered the suggestion for a moment. The idea of embarking on a paranormal adventure was enticing, but I couldn't help feeling a shiver of unease. Nevertheless, I couldn't resist the allure of the unknown. "Alright," I finally said, giving in to the excitement. "Let's do it!" This morning after breakfast, we made our way upstairs, camera in hand, determined to unravel the mysteries of the old house. As I ascended the creaky wooden stairs, my heart raced with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. During the entire time we cleaned, however, there were no signs of any otherworldly presence. No strange sounds, no eerie sightings—just the musty scent of time-worn wood and faded memories. That night, as we huddled together to watch the recorded footage, we were unprepared for what we would uncover. The camera had captured something that defied explanation, something that sent a shiver down our spines. In the midst of the recording, a small orb darted across the room like a blur, as if it were desperately trying to evade the camera's lens. It moved with an otherworldly grace, flickering in and out of sight before vanishing entirely. We watched in astonishment, our hearts pounding, as the camera had somehow managed to capture this ethereal anomaly. But the strangeness didn't end there. In one corner of the bedroom, a transparent image began to materialize—a ghostly face, etched with the lines of age and wisdom. It was the face of an old woman, her features soft and hauntingly familiar. She seemed to gaze at us with eyes that held the weight of time. As we continued to watch, a chill settled over us. The most unsettling revelation awaited us in the final moments of the recording. In the exact spot where my youngest son had been standing, an apparition appeared—a baby, hovering above his left shoulder. Its translucent form exuded an otherworldly presence, a spectral reminder of a life that had been cut tragically short. The significance of these haunting revelations began to dawn on us. The old family home, with its century-old history, had been a witness to countless moments of joy and sorrow. It had been the backdrop for the stories of our ancestors, each one leaving an indelible mark on the house's very foundation. The family's history within these walls had been marked by numerous deaths, spanning across all ages and generations. Among them was the unresolved tragedy of a baby's death nearly fifty years ago—a sorrow that had never truly found closure. As my children embarked on their visitation with their father, my cousin, who lived next door to the old family home, paid me a visit. He had experienced a profound loss just two years prior when his daughter tragically lost her life in a car accident. His eyes held a mixture of grief and wonder as he shared something he had discovered. He pulled out his laptop and showed me a video that his son had captured on his phone. It was an image that defied belief and left my heart heavy. The video showed his deceased daughter, hovering over him from behind, her presence unmistakable. He explained that she had appeared only once, offering him a moment of solace and connection. As I listened to him, a chilling realization washed over me. The old family house, standing as it had for over a century, had become a repository of souls—a place where the spirits of family members who had passed away over the years found refuge, solace, and perhaps even connection. Fast forward one year later, it was another hot summer. It was in the middle of August, which here in the south is the hottest part of the year. I had been talking with a friend for a while about repairs needing to be done to the down stairs hallway. The floor was rotting so bad that in some places your foot would go right through the floor. We need to get that fixed right away. So her cousin came over to look at the house. I was at work when they came, but my mom was home to talk with them and go over everything that needed to be done. It was only minutes later, my friend's cousin ran out of the house and straight to the car. He claimed he was freezing and that he kept feeling like he was being watched. He was terrified and refused to ever come back. My friend said that as they were going down the road her cousin kept insisting to turn the heater on. For miles she said he was freezing to death. The stories and encounters within this old house’s walls were not merely figments of our imagination or the product of superstition. They were echoes of a past that refused to fade away, whispers from the other side that spoke of the enduring bond between the living and the departed. As I continued to care for the old family house, I couldn't help but feel a sense of reverence for the generations that had come before us. The house had become a bridge, a portal through which we could glimpse the lives and spirits of our ancestors. It was a place where the past and the present converged, where the line between the living and the departed blurred, and where the legacy of our family continued to unfold in mysterious and poignant ways.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/17bvzrj/the_family_house_is_haunted_pt_3/

TrueScaryStories

Deep-Independence-36

After a fire in my house one of the only things to have survived was a USB stick with a wierd photo

F.Y.I. I never in my life used reddit and have no idea how it works, I've seen it on tiktok and know it has a lot of different communities so I found this one and please inform me if I should post this somewhere else. I'm not sure if I'll ever solve this but my hands are open to receiving help, thank you. About a year ago after a fire in my home I lost a lot of my things, including a big part of my house although a few things did survive part of those being an old USB stick I never looked through it as I had no reason so I just kept it in a drawer with old junk like broken cables, yesterday I went through it to discover a strange photo of a dog. I don't have and never had a dog, no one i knew has or had a dog and I've been living alone for about 2 1/2 years and this USB was bought 1 year into my(still alone) stay, it never has photo as I checked after purchasing to make sure I had my moneys worth , this is very strange and the I'm not sure what to thinm of it ever since I had moved, (as my old home was in no condition to live in and I couldn't afford to repair it). I never even thought of looking through it until I got bored one evening and found it, I'd gladly post it but I can't post pictures here? Anyway, I think that's all the details maybe I'm not sure if something is missing so please ask as I'm glad that was a 1 time thing I'm beyond confused as someone who never really believed on ghosts

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/17bulz2/after_a_fire_in_my_house_one_of_the_only_things/

TrueScaryStories

Character-Panda-6828

A Demon or something sits outside my house occasionally around 3am.

Alright so I didn’t know where to post this but I genuinely want to know if anybody has had a similar occurrence like this happen to them. This happened a little less than a year ago. I live in a pretty rural area, pretty secluded from people on a fruit orchard. So one morning I woke up at 3:37am, and my immediate thought was shit it’s way too early to be up. I then prepared a bowl pack to hopefully send me off to catch some more sleep a bit easier, but when I went to go outside I stepped out onto our deck and turned the light on. I swear on everything I love to this day whatever I heard scared the absolute shit out of me to the point where I locked every single window and door in the house and don’t even have the will to smoke the bowl to calm my nerves. I was honestly so terrified. So when I stepped out onto my deck I heard in a tree, that the deck light just barely partially illuminated, the leaves start to rustle a bit, a branch snapped and what literally sounded like it had to be a 400+lb animal hop down from the tree, land with a huge thud, and I can remember hearing exactly 7 steps but where the last step was easily reached over 50 yards away from the tree. At this point I’m practically shitting my pants fr. I go to reach my phone to start recording when whatever it was let’s out the most god awful screech I’ve ever heard. It sounded like a mix of an ear piercing hawk screech mixed with the deep scream of a bull or something. It almost had a human but also totally inhuman sound to it. After I heard this I instantly went inside turned on both outside lights n locked everything. I to this day truly believe a demon or something was stalking me outside my house. What do you guys think?

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/17bkeik/a_demon_or_something_sits_outside_my_house/

TrueScaryStories

LowOnLifenMeds

I have no clue where to post this but I don't know what to do

I recently traveled to Japan and was unbelievably excited as I've really never left home. I travelled from Tokyo to Osaka on the Shinkansen (I think that's right, the bullet train) and told my girlfriend that I had literally never felt safer. You could walk around at literally any time of night and feel like it was 2 in the afternoon. I don't live in a dangerous area here at home, but would still never be walking around in the middle of the night by myself. SO when we got to Osaka it was late, and we decided to check in to the new hotel and then walk around this park by the river. Everything was fine and normal until my girlfriend went into a public restroom. When I walked a bit past the restroom to sit on a bench, I started hearing these awful guttaral noises. Like i dont know like what I'd imagine a raptor sobbing would sound like. Simultaneously I heard what I swear to god was bone crunching. There is absolutely no other way to describe the noise. It sounded like a gator crunching down on a deer. It was unnerving enough for me to turn around, and I swear to you I witnessed what had to have been some kind of crime behind me. There were trees but this thing was in front of them, not even in them. This person was literally dripping head to toe in some sort of viscous liquid. AND I MEAN HEAD TO TOE. Its limbs were contorted like they were broken and it was hunched over a body, or an animal or something, and I swear it was eating it. I am telling you it looked like a human. It was 3 AM but this was a touristy park. It wasn't even that hidden. I froze, and It was dark but I KNOW it looked at me and it moved its neck so fast like a snap and then he or she or whatever it smiled. I sprinted into the womens restroom, grabbed my girlfriend, pulled her out and ran. Didnt look back nothing. I told people at a convenience store nearby and maybe it was the language barrier, I have no idea, basically no response. but I told a nearby security or cop, I genuinely couldnt tell, and brought them over there, and nothing, gone. I have nobody to talk to about this, everyone keeps telling me it was wildlife, but I know what I saw. That was not wildlife, NOTHING moves like that. IT WAS LITERALLY DRIPPING. Someone for the love of god tell me what animal that could have possibly been. I left Osaka but am tempted to go back just to check the area again. Im terrified, but also dont want to spend the rest of my life worried im crazy or terrified of something. What do i do?

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/17al97n/i_have_no_clue_where_to_post_this_but_i_dont_know/

TrueScaryStories

fossilhead33

im bored so heres another rez story

my cousin seen a giant snake head and ive mentioned it in my last post but i didnt talk about the legend behind the snake its a fairly simple story: at the bottom of yellow island in the river its said theres a temple or palace made of gold and is filled with gold and there is a giant snake guarding the temple from anyone who dares try and enter (even though its basically impossible now bc its over 60 feet under the water) and while my cousin we'll call him mitch; so mitch was out on a run in the middle of the rain and he seen a giant black substance on the top of the water; he thought nothing of it and drove right towards it (hes not the sharpest tool in the shed) he hit it and he bounce off of it and when he looked back it was diving down like a serpent; he got home and was all shaken up my grandmother asked what was wrong and he told us he seen a snake on the water with no further explanation. thats all there is to it. he seen the giant snake and hit it with a seadoo. theres also an incident that happened with a famous diver way back when my grandmother was young; she said this guy came to our rez and dove under yellow island and he recorded it with a couple other people and i guess when they came up the man said "there are caves down there and we should've never went in them" and they proceeded to destroy all the film they captured, its said he seen something in those caves and how he described them its like something other worldly. (im not sure if the second one is real because my grandmother likes to fuck with me sometimes but the guy who she said came here did exist i think he died in 2005 i could be mistaken but im not sure i gotta talk to my grandmother abt it)

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/17abt7d/im_bored_so_heres_another_rez_story/

TrueScaryStories

cookies_milk420

im a native american and my rez is scary

idk where else to post this but i live on a native reserve called akwesasne i dont know if its well known or not but a quick google search will tell you the basics so lets get into this; i (18f) once went out on the boat with my father and his sister and her kids and their father and in the st. Lawrence river and theres an i guess you could call it an urban legend about the seaweed at the bottom of that river its said that bad men would be dragged under by these creatures that disguise themselves as the rest of the weeds and while i was on this outing i jumped in the river alone (i was like 7-10 and it wasnt uncommon for me to swim alone) and when i jumped i remember lookin down at the bottom of the river and the weeds were about 50 or so feet below me pretty far in a river and as i swam back up to the surface of the water i felt something grab my leg and i looked down and it was the weeds one like strand jus wrapped around my right ankle and i remember the light fading away then i blacked out and when i came to my uncle was giving my cpr while my father was crying in his sisters arms (he was scared of losing me as we lost my older sister when i was 3) thats all i remember of that day no one talks about trauma here because its considered to "all be in our heads". another time that didnt happen to me it happened to one of my uncles: he was out on a seadoo in the rain and he saw a literal giant ass snake head and he hit it and this thing was impossibly huge bigger than a car huge. needles to say i never swim alone anymore and he dont go on the river in the rain.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/179niqg/im_a_native_american_and_my_rez_is_scary/

TrueScaryStories

cookies_milk420

The old house I lived in was scary as heck

So, I used to live in a small town in Tx. The house I lived in when I was a kid was a rented home, quite cheap to, about $400 a month give or take. We didn't know it, but bad things had happened in the house. I remember waking up in the middle of the night to a child with black eyes staring at me from my bedroom closet. Swinging his legs back and forth as it sat among my VHS's. When it noticed that I was awake, it had smiled at me. I remember screaming and calling for my grandma. When the light turned on, it was gone. I refused to sleep in that room after that. The second room I lived in for a while, had a door to the attic and the door would always be open for some reason. One day my grandparents are not home and I decided to close it myself. I felt something grab my hair and try pulling me into the attic, feral like growls and other noises still haunt me to this day from it. I did escape, because my grandparents came home and I was on the floor crying and bleeding. I never trusted tightly enclosed spaces in that house again, because of those things. I remember being dragged from my bed at night when the grownups were away and waking up half way off a California king sized bed, with bruises around my ankles and scratch marks on my arms. I also remember my cat fighting thin air one night when I was close to one of the closets, and weird like screams from what ever my cat was fighting. I don't live there now, and the house is condemned, but some of my old neighbors say that they see something in my old bedroom windows, black eyes and all, just staring out the window. (Sorry if this is short, I have PTSD and some of my childhood memories are Hazy AF, but I remember bits and pieces, even the scary ones.)

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/179qmxy/the_old_house_i_lived_in_was_scary_as_heck/

TrueScaryStories

Awoocorn

Haunted cb radio

This story just happened to me today at work so I thought to post here as it was definitely freaky. I work in native landcare management for backstory. Working in Australian bush mostly doing longline spraying for non-native plants. For some jobs that access is difficult, we will have one long line (upto 400meters) that will need to be pulled up hills for the person spraying at the end of the line. To communicate, we use handheld walkie talkie radios, not just the run of the mill cheapo ones but professional series ones that have coded channels for security etc. after radioing in to my boss, to alert him that we have run out of line. I was met with a faint female voice whispering “angry” twice. Now I work with two older men who do not play pranks nor could even get their voice to sound remotely like that. Our radios maximum distance is only 3/4km and we are working off a fire track in native bushland with houses being out of signal range, paired with the coded channels, it would be near on impossible for someone to stumble across us talking and play a prank on us. I’ve heard of radio waves being able to communicate with ghosts/afterlife but never experienced it until now.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/178we4y/haunted_cb_radio/

TrueScaryStories

Optimal_Compote_9878

Playstation 2 recorded me and my friends

I know its easy to assume that this was some kind of normal technological occurrence, but if you understand how technology was back then you would understand how odd it was. When I was around 10 me and 2 friends were having a sleep over, playing some racing game called something Underground 2 or 3. It was on this small cheap TV and a playstation 2 which was the best system at the time. We were playing the game in free mode just speeding around the city and would then watch the playback of what we did. There was this one time we made a huge jump off of a ramp and we yelled and laughed like "oh holy crap haha". When we played it back we heard ourselves at the part where the jump was made and we all looked at each other in utter awe at how this just happened. We were like, "dude it recorded us". This was just a regular ps2 on one of those small tvs where you could change the color to black and white by a knob

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/1780b3o/playstation_2_recorded_me_and_my_friends/

TrueScaryStories

Prudent-Ad9261

A gigantic disaster

A Giant Disaster When I was much younger, I worked for a local mining company that had come in from out of state. I was at the very bottom of the totem pole so to speak since I was one of the men on the dirt crew. Basically, our job was to shovel and move dirt. This was a huge open pit mine, meaning that there was a giant, deep pit full of large and medium rocks all the way down. Now, as you may or may not know, there's a lot of gigantic heavy equipment that's used around mining operations. When I say gigantic, I mean that the tires on these vehicles can be like 14 feet tall! That's what the vehicle in this story had on it, anyways. This particular dump truck was so huge and heavy, that it had some sort of air brakes to help stop its humongous momentum. On this particular day, I was just finishing up my break when my boss came up to me and asked me to move the giant a few feet forward, towards the giant pit. Now, my boss is the person who hired me and he definitely knows all of my capabilities on the job, so I was kind of surprised, but I figured that he knew what I was capable of so of course, he wouldn't ask me to do something that he knew I couldn't handle. Oh, how wrong I was! After what had to be a few actual minutes of me climbing the ladder to get into the driver's seat, I started to figure out that maybe I was in over my head. When I reached to top of the ladder and got to the steps to get inside the cab, I knew I was probably in over my head but again, I figured that my boss wouldn't ask me to do anything that he thought I wouldn't be able to do. As I sat myself in the driver's seat, I noted the brand new leather interior inside the cab. I could smell the new interior, as this particular vehicle had only 19 miles on it. I started the giant and had a little trouble putting it in gear at first, but then I finally got it and started rolling forward. As the huge dump truck started to gain speed towards the edge of the pit, I attempted to apply the regular brakes that we are all used to, via the peddle on the floor. But, when that wasn't really working, I began to panic as I realized that there were likely 2 braking systems in this giant, heavy dump truck! Since I had no idea how to use the accompanying air brakes. I literally began to pray about what I should do next. So, I decided to jump. I then opened my door and proceeded to jump nearly 20 feet onto the rocks below. I landed just after the giant had started over the edge into the huge pit, in the rocks, and on my knees. I then watched helplessly as the giant dump truck careened down farther into the pit. It all happened almost in slow motion to me. I watched as the giant flipped end over end further and further down into the pit, kicking up a huge cloud of dust as it went. I mean, that dump truck must have flipped about 54 times during its long journey down! I watched in shock and horror as one of the truck's giant 14-foot tires went flying off and bounced away! I gaped at the sight of the truck's bed breaking off and flying way up into the air like a U.F.O! The time seemed to drag by like hours as I helplessly watched the giant flip all the way down and basically melt into the bottom of the huge rock pit. When the giant finally came to a rest at the bottom, sat there awhile, reflecting in shock on what I had just witnessed. Sometime after, I got up, brushed myself off, and went up to face my boss. To my surprise, my boss was pissed at me! He yelled at me to immediately march myself by myself to the company office across the property! I guess for him, hospital checkups were overrated. When I got to the office, I was angry, plus I was fired right on the spot! I tried arguing my case, that my boss had been the one to give me the task in the first place, but to no avail. Unfortunately, I walked away that traumatic day without a job and with my final paycheck in my hand.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/17831yd/a_gigantic_disaster/

TrueScaryStories

So-nora

(F) I don't know if this counts as scary to others but it was to me...

(F) I don't know if this counts as scary to others but it was to me... I met a man online his user name was 2A but I'll call him Hassan. Hassan was a kind man, he said he smoked weed, like music and was named after gold. We began talking that night, this was the first time we spoke but we laughed allot that night. But somewhere around midnight (my time) he began saying he wanted to play music, so he blasted his music for me while we talked... Eventually we got on the topic of education and careers. I told Hassan I wanted to work in an office or something then he asked a question... *"Could you work in radio?"* I didn't know what to say so I said *"yes"* I could. Hassan's tone changed *"could you please? Please get to a radio..."* He was whispering with the music of but I could hear something rising in his voice. I tried to say something but In all honesty I didn't know what to say. Then his next choice of words chilled me to my bones. *"Have you ever seen war? Or murder?"* I didn't speak. *"Have you?"* I said no. His next words frightened me. *"Help me... Please help us."* I froze. I was silent. *"You have to help me. They are killing us please. Get to a radio.. please"* I was frozen. See I was home alone at night, roomie; gone. Near a wooded area with nothing but darkness. *"Hello..."* He said finally again. *"Are you there?"* I admitted I was just speechless to him, but then I asked *"is this a joke?"* His voice for very shaky *"no please, please help me"* I panicked by this point, I didn't wanna call the cops cause I had no idea his location in the US or even if he was somewhere else in the world... So I shut down. I'm sorry... I said *"maybe you should sleep... Close your eyes, you seem stressed..."* *"Yes"* he responded *"I need rest... Thank you."* I got silent somehow knowing... Something was wrong. But said *"we'll talk tomorrow , ok?"* Hassan said *"ok, lovely talking, I'll talk to you tomorrow... Goodnight."* *"Goodnight Hassan..."* **Call ended** That was the last I heard from him.... His account was deactivated, I still have the old chat, can't bring myself to delete it... I hope he's ok .... I am tearful when I think of it still..... I was so powerless and scared. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Hassan. I only posted because I feel guilty, I got scared, I could help. Forgive me for any errors this was hard to type out.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/177phya/f_i_dont_know_if_this_counts_as_scary_to_others/

TrueScaryStories

B1tchBetterGetMyCash

I work in a haunted pub

Alright so I've been sitting on this for a year or so, but the longer I wait the more shit happens so i kinda just wanna dump everything out and you guys can bully me for being a pussy and/or give advice So I'm an apprentice chef, i started about a year and a half ago and the job itself is a dream come true, my coworkers quickly become like family, the pub is the only good restaraunt and bar in town so i already knew most the people there just from hanging around there, small town you know how it is. The pub itself was one of the first buildings in town, i think the oldest parts are roughly 140 to 150 years old. So about 6 months into my apprenticeship i started having really weird experiences, it started one day when the head chef was outside talking to a delivery driver, I was packing away bags of pasta in the dry store when i hear someone come in through the staff only door that is connected to the gaming room/pokies room I quickly check it out cuz it was relatively early in the morning like 9ish, which for whatever reason is prime time for the locak crackheads to lose money on the slot machines and have a meltdown and accidentally walk into the kitchen So i walk into the main kitchen room and lo and behold: nothing, the door is closed and still. Fuck it, im tired as shit probably imagined it. Go back to packing away pasta. The door opens again and i walk out, no one there, again, whatever. Runse and relear one or two more times and i hesr my head chef walking in from the outside door, i knew it was the outside door cuz it makes this really noticeable squeak that drives me fucking mental. I asked him about something to do with the order, and as he replies to me i see him unlock the other door. The one i heard open and close 3 or 4 times. Keeping in mind there are only 2 doors to exit the kitchen and each have very distinct noises you associate with them. They sound nothing like the coolroom or bathroom doors. Fast forward a week or two and I get in half an hour early to make pizza bases. I was standing in the middle of the room on a bwnch rolling out the dough when i get this weird (cliche) icy feeling on the right side of my neck, i spin around to see whats causing it and for the briefest of moments see a black shadowy figure peeking around the corner to the dry store maybe 2 metres behind me. All night long, every time i could glance over towards the dry store door way i would either see this apparition again briefly or shudder, this still happens from time to time but its different now cuz its just kind of like white noise, but that initial night was freaky. A few honourable mentions are: -My turning knife disappearing the one and only time I've ever needed it, only to appear in my knife bag about 5 minutes after getting yelled at for losing it -Drinking a beer in the bar after my shift and ehile mid conversation everything just went completely silent for about 5 to 10 seconds -Multiple times yelling "service" and hearing a reply only to realise no waitresses are in the kitchen -Smelling cigarettes in the coolroom The event that made me decide maybe this story was worth telling happened last night; So over the past month one of the bars in the building got completely redone, it all pink and floral compared to its beige and dark beige it had preciously. For anonymity sake i dont wanna give away what they named the bar, but its named after the guy who built the original pub. So last night me and my mates were testing out this new bar, and a few drinks in we start talking about the guy who huilt the pub, I'm really into local history so i was going decently in depth about everything when all of a sudden theres this massive thud. It came from nowhere but everyone in the room heard it. While everyones silent and looking around one of my mates pipes up "its probably the ghost of *insert guy who built the pubs name here* coming to have a pint in his new bar" and as much as it pains me to say it got a decent laugh. Until the second thud, this time no one said anything and in the silence, i swear to God, Allah, Muhammod whatever deity you want me to swear to, i am not making this up In the silence i heard whispered in my ear "group of queers" Like what even the fuck What am i meant to do with that sentence Anyways, thats all ive got off the top of my head, feel free to ask questions, or if you need anything clarified.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/177msul/i_work_in_a_haunted_pub/

TrueScaryStories

That_Coffee_7197

I felt myself going asleep

This happened on this summer, and I haven't stopped thinking about it. This august me and my sister shared a room during our vacation. I've always been a light sleeper so whenever I wake up I tend to go to the bathroom or go to drink water. A particular night towards the end of our trip I woke up in the middle of the night, and just tried to go back to sleep, but, and this has only happened to me once: I felt my vision going blurry and falling asleep, and I, for some reason uttered "Im in a dream" (uncannily loud inside my head). Then, when I opened my eyes I couldn't see, not that I saw black, I felt my eyes blinking, but nothing was "registering". At the same time I was in what I can only describe in a sleep paralisis type state, because I couldnt move or speak, plus going "blind", and worst of all, when I became aware that I was asleep, all sound, from my sleeping sister's ritmic breathing, from the sounds of the street became an extremen loud glitchy/buzzing noise (imagine a broken printer). The sound was the worse this of all of this by far, I can only describe it as every sound glitching inside my head. All this happened in the span of maybe ten seconds, and was nothing like I have ever experienced. When everything snaped back to normal, I was left horrified and in silence for a few minutes, so I woke up my sister to tell her this, before I actually fell asleep. I have experienced sleep paralisis a few times now, mostly when I was a kid, and this was nothing like it. And me triggering this "event" by realising that I was sleeping has never happened to me. Anyways, english isn't my first language so excuse any bad english

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/175ss5e/i_felt_myself_going_asleep/

TrueScaryStories

jacob_eats_hamster

Jogging ghost encounter?

Alright so anytime from 2am - 5am I’ll go on a jog. I’m usually up at this time so it’s kind of become a common thing now. Anyways last night I left my house for a jog at about 3:30 am. I jogged for almost an hour before I started heading back home. I’m about 5 blocks away from my house and on a straight path to the corner of my block. I jog 2 more blocks before I see a person 2 blocks up standing on the corner. I don’t think to much of this eventhough it’s about 4:30 am now, I always see people out walking there dogs during my jog so it’s nothing new to see somebody out at this time.I’m now about a block and a half away from this person now, so I slow my pace because I’m coming up to an intersection and I assume they might have a dog with them so I want to give them some time to start moving before I finish my final stretch home. I get to the intersection and look out for cars, when I look straight ahead i saw the person at the corner start to walk left around the corner. At this point I finish walking across the street and pick up my pace, I get to the corner the person was standing at and look to my left in the direction the person went. I initially did this to check for a car but I looked farther back to see if the guy was alone or walking a dog, but when I looked I saw no one there. Now it’s not a big deal, maybe he went in to a car or something I thought. But I’m nosy af and wanted to see if some how made it to the other corner before I could see. So I went up a block took the left on the corner and started heading back direction I came but one the next block over. (I apologize if that’s a little confusing but bear with me. The block I started on and the neighboring block to my left meet at one point like a triangle. Anyways back to what happened) I started heading back, I run up one block, get to the corner and look around while keeping my pace, I see no one. At this point I gave up on that person I figure let me just go 2 more blocks up , loop back then head home. I now get to the corner where I originally saw that person and take the left so I can be on the straight away to my block again. when I turned the corner saw a person standing on that’s same corner. Now I make it about a half a block up before I slow to a walking pace, I walk to the corner of the block I’m on and check for cars again, I look straight and the person begins to walk left just like last time. I thought wow hat a coincidence and continue to cross the street. Now I wear glasses but when I jog I put them in my pocket because the sweat makes them slide off. I cross the street, pick up my pace and get to the corner the person was standing on. I stopped at this point and looked left , I saw no one and thought surely I’m not that blind and put my glasses on only to still see no one in sight. I even took out my headphones to see if I could hear anything but it was just quiet. Now Ik u might think I’m weird trying to see where these people are going but to me it was a challenge to try and make it to their corner before they made it to the end of the block. So at this point I’m thinking “dam I lost the challenge so do another loop”. so another loop I did and when I got to the corner where I saw the person, I took the left and instantly stopped in my tracks. I saw another person standing at that same corner. I put on my glasses again so I can see better and start to walk forward while looking at this person. I couldnt make out if they were facing me or not but I thought there’s no way three times in a row someone’s on that corner when I get here. I started to feel like I was in a loop at this point, Like some weird ass genjutsu😹😹. Anyways this person does not move an inch, I walk to the corner and get ready to Check for cars but before I do I stay locked on this person to see if they are going to walk to the left like the others but they don’t move, I look to my right to see if a car is coming then look forward only to see the person begin to walk to the left. Now I’m hesitant to cross, “why did they only move now, surely it’s not a coincidence for this to happen 3 times now”, I took a minute before continuing to walk, I get to the corner they were on and look in the direction they went. Nothing. Now I’m confused they didn’t seem to be walking fast so surely I would have seen someone. So I figure let me just go the way they went to see how long it would take to walk it. I have my glasses on and headphones out at this point. I look around and no one is around at all so I begin to walk. I make it about a quarter up this block when I get a chill down my spine. I stop walking and take a sec to try and understand why I’m feeling this way. I look behind me and some one is standing at that corner again. I don’t know what to do other than turn around and continue to walk. When I go to turn I see from my peripheral the person move I turn back and they are now walking my direction, from the little time I had to turn back again I tried to see the person face but it was just dark. They seemed to have like a hoodie on. We are now both walking in the same direction and I can hear their footsteps from behind. They’re not close but they’re audible. I make it to half way up the block before I decide to just peek over my shoulder only to see no one behind me. I had just heard their footsteps so I now stop completely and turn around to confirm no one is there. Sure enough no one is there and my heart instantly drops to my ass. I’m now standing facing the corner where I saw the person and no one is on the block I’m trying to calm my self a little and think. Maybe I was hearing my own footsteps or something. I turn around to just continue on home when I see someone up the block now sprinting in my direction. Now it’s 4:30am and it’s very quiet outside I can hear crickets loudly chirping but the person in a full sprint heading towards me was completely silent. no sound of shoes hitting the pavement or anyone breathing. I was just frozen trying to make sense of what was happening staring at this shadowy person running right at me. All I could do was stare. Watching them get closer and closer. Until they were about 10 feet away they disappeared like they were never even there to begin with. I snapped back into reality and just started taking off for home. I was in a full sprint until I got inside. I locked the doors and just showered trying to make sense of this experience. I figured Id come on here and share to get someone’s thoughts on the matter ,this is my first post so I apologize if the writing and explaining is a little difficult to follow. Anyways lmk ur thoughts.

https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/175f5u7/jogging_ghost_encounter/

TrueScaryStories

Lost_Presentation153

September 2023 Winners!

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17b6igb/september_2023_winners/

nosleep

TheCusterWolf

If you’ve recently purchased a new phone, look out for this glitch: if an unknown location repeatedly appears on your GPS, DO NOT FOLLOW IT!

My spouse has been missing for three days now. It doesn’t make any sense. We have no enemies. Tai wasn’t having an affair (we have an open, poly relationship, and both of us occasionally have other partners and tell each other when we do). The only new thing in our lives was Tai’s phone. Some fancy newfangled Google device with snazzy never-before-seen apps. I’m not all that into gadgets, but Tai wouldn’t stop talking my ear off about it in the days before it finally arrived, sleek and gleaming in its little white box. I wouldn’t mention the new phone at all, except… Well. I have *one* idea about where my missing spouse might have gone. It happened on the second or third morning after the new phone arrived. I was only half paying attention to Tai’s excited babble: “… turns black and white at night because it knows that’s time for me to sleep. Isn’t it smart? And see, I have everything organized so I can find stuff super easy. Here’s my transit folder for all my transit apps and—oops. Huh… that’s *weird.*” “What?” The “weird” part finally piqued my interest. “Oh, nothing, just… some sort of glitch. It keeps showing me this same location on my maps. I don’t know why. Anyway, look, I saved some restaurant recommendations and you can see which ones are close to us…” We ended up going to one of the restaurants Tai recommended later that evening. But, funnily enough, the unknown location popped up again on the GPS when we were walking downtown… and *again* on our way home. “Man,” Tai groaned. “Maybe it’s like… that location is listed as our home for some reason…” “Where is it?” I asked. “I don’t know! It just looks like some random building. Oh, hey! Wanna go there?” I slid a sideways look to my beloved. Tai’s always been the extrovert in our relationship. Curious, mischievous, partying, gadget-loving. Superficially we’re very similar—in fact a lot of people assume we’re siblings, since we’re both Asian and of similar build (we even swap clothes a lot—though I’m generally more goth, while Tai is more Midwest flannel and jeans). But our personalities are polar opposites. I’m a total hermit and strongly prefer the familiar to anything too new. Take my phone for example. Unlike Tai’s fancy new thing, mine’s a cracked old brick that doesn’t even get group texts half the time. Heck, even the regular texts sometimes don’t show up, instead popping up hours, days, or even weeks late. My birthday’s in May, and I’ve gotten happy birthday messages as late as July. I call these “ghost texts.” But I’d rather keep my janky old phone than have to learn a new one. Of course, eventually I’ll cave—and it’ll probably be Tai who gets me my next phone and teaches me how it works—but for now, I’m satisfied with my brick. Anyway… I had no interest in a long walk out of our way to see some unknown location somewhere, so I suggested we grab dessert, then head home and watch some of our shows. Tai’s bright eyes dimmed with disappointment, but they relented, and so we spent a cozy evening on the couch with our cats. A couple of days later, around 10pm, we exchanged the series of texts that would be our last: TAI: Hey, I’ll likely be out till late. At a union event. ME: Oh. Do you need me to come pick you up? ME: What time? ME: What time should I come? ME: Tai? TAI: No, don’t come TAI: I’ll find a ride TAI: Probably going to be out till pretty late. You should get some sleep. 😘😴 Unless you wanna come to the party? ME: Ew, no. Only if u need a ride home TAI: Don’t worry, I’m fine. I love you. TAI: 😘❤️🥰 ME: ❤️❤️❤️ ME: eta? ME: Tai? Eta? … but there were never any more messages. These are the last messages Tai ever wrote to me. And I have read them over, and over, and over… \*\*\* So what happened? I checked Tai’s computer for information about this “union event” and reached out to a few of their coworkers the next morning, only to have my anxiety skyrocket into panic when I was told there *was no union event* that night. One of Tai’s colleagues, Jessica, asked whether I was sure Tai was being honest with me. Of course I was. Why wouldn’t I be? But Tai does like to play pranks. They’d do stuff to mess with me all the time. Little things. Like letting me lead us the wrong way when we were out walking, because Tai has an excellent sense of direction and I don’t, just strolling hand-in-mine quietly laughing until I’d finally realize I’d gotten us completely lost. Or like the time our parking garage was repainted. Tai tracked how many days it would take me to notice, and would say stuff like, “Hey, is there a spider on the wall?”—dropping subtle hints. It took me three weeks, six days. It's true that I live too much in my own head. Whereas, Tai is very much out in the world and plays too much, buys too much, works too much, adrift like a balloon that will float away without a tether. I am the tether. It's how we balance each other. Balanced. These past few days I’ve been such a mess. None of our friends know where my spouse is. NONE OF THEM. Nor any of our family. And yeah, obviously, I contacted the police. They think it’s an affair. I told them the same thing I told Tai’s colleague Jessica—why would Tai sneak around? What would be the point when we both date other people anyway? That got some raised eyebrows, and they just told me people have all kinds of reasons to hide things from each other. That maybe I don’t know my spouse as well as I thought I did. But our cats. Tai would *never* leave our cats. Our maine coon, Luna, is Tai’s baby. Even if Tai would leave me (and I’m not entertaining that idea—we would *talk* about things first, would communicate—we wouldn’t ghost each other), Tai would never leave Luna. None of it makes *any* sense. And finally, just this evening, I found something. In the pocket of Tai’s jeans—a glossy blue phone, its maps app open and the GPS showing an unknown location. \*\*\* Why would Tai leave their phone with me? How did they text me from the “union event” if their phone was here? Or… did they return and slip it into the pocket of those jeans sometime while I was out this evening? But… why? Why do such a thing? Why leave it for me instead of just *calling?* I closed out the map and opened the messages—checking to see if Tai had communicated with anyone besides me in recent days. But no. Their very last messages were the ones with me. That same series of texts, plus the ones I sent that went unanswered through the night: “Tai? Are you ok?” “Please call me” “I’m seriously worried, call me now” “Tai PLEASE call NOW” and on and on and on, until my eyes blurred with tears and I had to stop reading and put the phone down. Finally I picked it up again and looked at the maps. That unknown location marked by the GPS. I shivered. *Tai, did you go there without me, and now you want me to come?* The sight of that dot on the GPS filled me with an irrational terror. Obviously I had to go, but… *everything* about this felt wrong. Whereas my beloved saw that little blue dot as a curiosity, a mystery to be solved—I looked and saw a warning. *Danger*. Dread coiled in my belly and squeezed my lungs. Oh Tai… where was I when you needed to be tethered back to earth? I grabbed my bag, shoving my phone and Tai’s in there. I messaged my family. It was near midnight, so I didn’t expect a response from anyone—but I wouldn’t make the mistake of vanishing without informing everyone. Going out alone at this hour was probably not the best idea—and definitely not the kind of thing that Avery, the introvert, usually did. But it didn’t matter. Out of my comfort zone, one more time, for Tai. \*\*\* Following the GPS brought me to an apartment building. It was a place I’d never been—and because the map kept rerouting when I got close, the only way I eventually found it was by ditching my car and walking. Even then, the map rerouted one more time, forcing me to walk another 15 minutes on the chilly streets of downtown. And while I’m very familiar with the downtown area, somehow I wound up on a block I didn’t recognize, in front of a building I’d never seen before. Though I did observe, looming in the distance, the bright blue rooftop lights of the office building I used to work in, and the yellow upper floors of the banking building where Tai works, and where we both met more than a decade ago. These landmarks gave me some sense of direction. I sent a pin with the location to the family group text. And then I approached the empty apartment building, dim inside except for a few lights leading to the elevator lobby— —*Bzzzzz*—I jumped at my phone’s vibration. MOM: gotta cancel tmw It was a ghost text from last week, popping up in the family group chat. My heart sank (some part of me had been secretly hoping that it would be Tai). I tucked my phone into my back pocket and tried the front door, but it was locked. A metal call box hung on the wall to my left. Had Tai come to this same call box three nights ago? Suddenly, static spat: “BBBZZZZZT…. BZZZZZT… Avery?” My heart all but stopped. “Tai?” I gasped. “… Avery, you’re here? BBZZZZZT … up?” “TAI!” I shouted. “Are you OK? Where are you?” “… n’t hear you. Come up to the rooZZZZZT.” Abruptly, there was a loud buzz as the apartment door opened, and I rushed into the lobby and to the elevator. Had Tai said “roof”? I pressed the uppermost floor. The whole way, questions flooded my mind: Why would Tai be here? How had their phone gotten to me after they went missing? What happened three days ago at almost *this* exact time as I was heading up, right now? But my heart wouldn’t listen to my brain’s logic, because Tai was here! *Here!* Waiting on the roof! They didn’t sound scared over the call box. Only surprised. Like they were glad I’d come. Like they’d been waiting— —then the elevator doors opened and I rushed out and through a door marked “authorized entry only” but held ajar by a doorstop because coming from beyond were lights and sounds. Up a narrow flight of stairs, I emerged to the roof— Thumping music. Dazzling lights. A party. Oh, wow. And it was *lit*. Then Tai was in front of me, pulling me into a hug. “Avery! You made it! I didn’t think you were coming!” “Tai? Oh my God!” I squeezed them fiercely, all my questions forgotten as I nearly spilled the cup of beer out of their hand. “It’s been three days! How could you? How could you let me worry like this—” “What?” Tai pulled back and examined me, looking bewildered. “No it hasn’t! The party just started!” “No! It’s Tuesday! You messaged me on Saturday! Look!” I pulled out their phone. “Oh you found my phone!” “But how did you message me—" “I can’t hear you.” Tai shook their head. “Music’s too loud. Come on. Let’s go somewhere quieter and talk.” And strange as this all was, my fear evaporated. I’d found Tai, and any explanations we could figure out later. The important thing was that we were together. We wove through the crowd, passing coworkers Tai greeted with banter and smiles. Again, a prickle of confusion as I peered at their faces through the reverberating music. Hadn’t these union people said there was no meeting? Tai laughed when I mentioned Jessica, and said Jessica didn’t know about this party. She recently quit their leadership team and hadn’t been involved much in events. Then Tai guided me toward a ladder leading up to a brightly lit hot tub. In a flash, they’d undressed and scampered up the ladder, wiry and scrawny in their plaid boxers. “Come on, let’s sit in the hot tub! We can talk and look out over the city.” “I don’t have my swim clothes—” “Quit acting so old. Just strip to your undies and come on!” I sighed. This was definitely one of those push-pull moments where I wanted to be a homebody and Tai wanted to be adventurous. Grumbling, I stripped off my jacket and shirt and jeans and gripped the ladder. The cold steel bit into my hands. It was steeper than I imagined, and the stinging wind almost unbearable. With each rung, the air seemed more frigid. By the time I got to the lip of the hot tub, my whole body had numbed. “God, it’s so fucking cold…” “Yeah? It’s nice and warm in here.” Tai was lounging at the far end of the jacuzzi, smiling. I started to climb over the rim—but stopped at the *bzzzzz, bzzzz* of my phone. I’d brought it so I could take pictures. Glanced at the text onscreen. TAI: No, don’t come In the cold air, my eyes couldn’t focus for a second. Oh—a ghost text. I recognized it from the string of messages in our last communication. Sometimes I get repeats. I called to Tai, “Uh, you just texted and told me not to come.” “Oh my God, please let me get you a new phone!” And it was so Tai, the way their eyes crinkled. That laughter. So very, very Tai. Warmth flooded my chest, and I readied myself to jump in— *—Bzzzzz—* TAI: No, don’t come Again? I don’t know what it was about that repeat text, but… as the wind sliced me to my bones, I shifted my position back onto the ladder and told Tai through chattering teeth that I wanted to take a pic. “Use my phone! It has a better camera.” So I did. It was a beautiful picture. But the doubt and dread curdling in my stomach wouldn’t settle, so I called, “Lemme get a selfie, too!” I couldn’t tell you why, but I felt gripped with absolute terror. I just wanted to be home, hanging out at our place with popcorn and blankets. But somehow I knew that wouldn’t happen—that it would never happen. And I turned around to take a selfie—only this time, using *my* janky old phone—and snapped it. The image came out dark. As soon as my finger opened the picture, I became aware of the dreadful silence around me. No sound but the wind—a bitter chill gust that nearly blew me right off that ladder. The night was so dark that I could barely make out my own fingers, numbly gripping the rungs. My phone’s screen, the only source of light in the world, showed just me, looking a bit scared, my face pale in the flash against perfect pitch black. There was nothing here. No one here. Just the soft lapping sound of water from below the cold metal rim. I turned on my phone’s flashlight. The metal rim beneath my fingers was less rim than… lid, I realized. There was a lid over the water, and a small hatch. A hatch I was about to drop through, before I took those pictures. Not a hot tub—a water tank. I shined the phone’s light into the darkness… Through the gentle sloshing, pale skin drifted beneath the surface. Wide, unseeing eyes. Hair floating around the face like a halo of seaweed— I screamed. \*\*\* When I tried to lead police back to Tai’s body in the rooftop water tank, I could find neither the apartment building nor the street it had been on. The selfie I’d taken showed nothing beyond my own pale face. The pinned location I’d sent to family and friends led to nowhere. And Tai’s phone, which I’d kept with me since making my gruesome discovery, had disappeared. Police assumed I was making it all up. There are no apartment buildings in downtown with a water tank. In fact, the type of tank I described is rare at all in modern buildings, except perhaps overseas. It’s been two weeks now, and I keep scouring the news for anything about an unidentified body found in an apartment water tower, but Tai’s case is still unsolved… \*\*\* I did find one final clue. This morning, a package arrived. A fancy box with a shiny blue phone in it. It’s the phone that was *supposed* to have arrived for Tai weeks ago, and matches the order number of the email invoice. So, this new phone? I guess it’s kind of like… Tai’s last gift to me. I already know how to use it because they chattered my ear off about it… and yeah it turns black and white at night because it’s smart and knows that it’s time for bed… I love you, Tai. Thanks for one final innovation to take me out of my comfort zone. But I have to admit, I’ve kept my old janky phone, too. Because of the ghost texts. I still occasionally get them. Mostly not from Tai because it’s been so long. But I did get one recently that made me totally break down in tears: TAI: Don’t worry, I’m fine. [I love you.](https://www.reddit.com/r/QuincyLee/comments/11nxwz3/welcome_thanks_so_much_for_stopping_by/)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17eqteu/if_youve_recently_purchased_a_new_phone_look_out/

nosleep

lets-split-up

A Serial Killer is Copying Horror Movies Part 6

Part 1: [https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1796yuq/a\_serial\_killer\_is\_copying\_horror\_movies/](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1796yuq/a_serial_killer_is_copying_horror_movies/) ​ Part 5: [https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dd21c/a\_serial\_killer\_is\_copying\_horror\_movies\_part\_5/?utm\_source=share&utm\_medium=ios\_app&utm\_name=iossmf](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17dd21c/a_serial_killer_is_copying_horror_movies_part_5/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf) ​ I was sitting outside Vivi’s hospital room when Mark walked up to me. I stood up immediately and took a step back, as if I was expecting him to tackle me again. My head still hurt where he’d slammed it against my car door. Mark held up his hands, as if to show that he wasn’t going to hurt me. That just made me even more mad. Mad at him, yes, but mostly mad at myself. Why was I scared of him? I had handcuffs. I had a badge. I had a taser. And I had a gun. He wasn’t my husband anymore. Maybe I was scared because, despite of my weapons and my badge and my uniform, he’d still slapped me. Mark had never hurt me before, not physically, but now that he had a line had been crossed. He could do it again. The deputies standing on either side of Vivi’s door stood straighter. One of them took a step toward Mark. I held up my hand. “What do you want?” I asked. “I want to see her,” he said. “She’s sleeping.” Mark nodded. He was blond, fit, and had a golfer’s tan. Mark’s father, my former father-in-law (thank God for that “former”) owned the biggest car dealership in town. He bought a lot of homes or had them built, then let Mark rent them out. I was too busy with work, they said. I had been drinking after my dad’s death, a bit too much. I got distant. I got angry. After we split up. Mark got to keep our house. His house, I guess. It had never been mine. After I moved out, my place was a one bedroom apartment on the bad side of town. My income wasn’t enough to give Vivi and Chris the life they’d gotten accustomed to. So Mark got full custody. I saw my kids on weekends, but not every weekend because of work. “Maybe I made a mistake,” Mark said. “Vivi’s been acting out for the last couple of months. Sneaking out, like when she stayed over at yours a few days ago. She got a tattoo, she tell you about that?” “No,” I said. “I just hope she wasn’t doing drugs,” Mark said. “How is this helping?” I asked. “Look, I have a lot of shit to do.” “Then why aren’t you doing it?” As much as I hated to admit it, as much as I wanted to punch his smug, country club face in, Mark was right. “Watch him and Chris,” I told my deputies, then I walked out. I paced around my office, looking at the crime scene photos laid out below me, on every available surface. Dead kids. Too many of them. That was when it hit me. I felt like a character in a movie. A detective, looking over crime scene photos, trying to find the killer just beyond the frame, off camera, working a few hours before the photos were taken, taking lives and playing a sick game. This was like a movie, wasn’t it? The killer had made sure of that. What if he wanted me to act the part? To make my own references? I thought back to Se7en. It had to be the killer’s favorite movie, if all of this was a reference to it. I’d seen it a few nights ago, with Vivi. I remembered it well. I remembered, too, how Morgan Freeman and Brad Pitt had found the killer’s address. Our town’s local library was small, but welcoming. It was pretty much all ran by Brenda Peterson and her husband, Ralph. There were others, mostly volunteers, a committee, a board, etc, but Brenda and Ralph were the beating heart. They were always there, even at night. I walked up to Brenda. She’s a thin woman in about her 70s. Fit. Active. The type you see finishing a jog at 7 AM. She was watching TikTok, of all things. “All the knowledge in this place and you’re watching that,” I said. “I’ve read more books than most people do in their lifetime,” Brenda said, with a smile. “Don’t try to shame me for keeping up with the times. What can I help you with, Ana?” In Se7en, Morgan Freeman notices that the killer is well read, so he makes a list of books the killer was referencing or would be interested in, and asks a shady guy from the FBI to give him a list of people who had checked them out. Now, Brenda and I went way back. She’d worked at the library since I was a kid. That didn’t make what I had to do easier, it made it harder. It’s hard to lie to someone whose known you since you were little. You feel like they should know the way you talk, the way your face moves, that they knew when you were lying as a kid so they should know now. Luckily, I didn’t have to lie to her. Not really. I just had to bend the truth a little. Smudge it. But that's still wrong. Every cop knows that. “You heard about Paul and Jordan,” I said. Not a question. It was an undeniable fact. Everyone in town had heard about them. “Yes,” Brenda said. Leaning in. Her eyes were wild with excitement she was trying very hard to keep under wraps. I could feel the air around us change, suddenly becoming charged with the sparks of small town gossip. “We think that whoever did it likes violence,” I said. “You know. Gets off on it?” Brenda narrowed her eyes and nodded. “I was wondering if there’s anyone in town who’s been checking out gory books recently? Or maybe violent movies?” “I can’t give out any information regarding our patrons,” Brenda said. “It’s ALA policy.” “What?” I asked. “The American Library Association,” Brenda said, proudly. “I could help you if you subpoenaed me. Sorry.” I should’ve guessed that librarians were loyal to their readers and upheld the ALA’s standards like I was supposed to uphold the law. Still, I had to try something. “You can tell me if there was anyone suspicious in here though,” I said. “Or anyone new? Someone who didn’t fit in?” Brenda’s eyes lit up. “I could do that, yes,” she said. “I’m almost certain.” “Yes,” I said. “Now was there anyone wearing a hood? Acting strange? Hovering around the movie section maybe? Looking at violent things?” “There was one person,” Brenda said. “Wearing a black hood. He actually tried checking a some violent movies but…again. Subpoena.” “Right but you’re not telling me what he checked out,” I said. “Just that he was acting strangely. So you’re not giving out any confidential library records. You’re a valuable witness in an ongoing police investigation. Was his name, by any chance, John?” Brenda’s eyes lit up again. “How did you know that?” she asked. “He tried to register as ‘John D.’ I told him that an initial wasn’t allowed as a last name. He put in John Donovan.” “Did he put an address in when he registered for a library card?” I asked. “Oh, he didn’t actually register,” Brenda said. “He didn’t have an official ID. He didn’t even get through all the personal details.” “Did he start to write an address? Or maybe mention where he was staying?” “You know what was weird? He actually put in Donovan Street. That made me think his name was fake. What are the chances, right?” That was all I needed. Donovan street was full of businesses. Restaurants. Car dealerships. A laundromat. There weren’t many residences there. But I knew one. “Thanks Brenda,” I said. “If anything comes of this, we’ll ask you to testify as a witness. You think you’d agree to do that?” Brenda perked up. “Yes of course!” she said. “What should I wear. To court?” “If we ever catch this guy,” I said. “I’ll let you know.” The house on Donovan street had been empty for years. Like the abandoned bus station, it was an eyesore. The owners of the neighboring businesses signed petitions every year, saying that the property drew in rats and the wrong kind of people, and that it was bad for business. Every year, old Mrs. Mayhew paid exterminators and landscapers to make the house look a little better, then went back to doing absolutely nothing with it. She didn’t want to rent it, tear it down, or sell it. She just liked looking at it, she said. Liked driving past it. It was the perfect place for what I knew was coming. It’d be just like Se7en. I didn’t have to kick the door in. It was open a smidge. I pushed it with my foot. My hands were a little occupied. One with my service weapon. The other with my flashlight. “Sheriff’s department!” I shouted into the home. “If there’s anyone in there, make yourselves known and come out with your hands up!” I heard the man before I saw him. The sound of boots slamming into the sidewalk, getting closer and closer. I turned just in time to see a man wearing a hat and a leather coat drop a bag of groceries and raise a gun toward my head. He shot several times. At the wall, mostly. I slid down to the sidewalk, rolled into the grass. For once, I was furious at Mrs. Mayhew for having it cut. I looked up to see the man running into an alley between two of the restaurants. As I stood and started running, I noticed the dinner crowd and most of the waiters spilling out into the street, looking at me in an anxious daze. “County Sheriff!” I shouted, flashing my badge. “Get back inside!” I ran into the dark alley. My gun out and shaking in every direction. Every shadow, every trash bag, every nook, every dumpster. I was convinced, every time, that the killer would pop out. Was there any horror move death that took place in an alley? I remembered one. The actress was the girl from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. There a parade going on in town and she was running through an alley. Right before she could escape out into the parade, the killer stabbed her with a hook. Was that going to be me? Was Vivi going to wake up in the hospital and hear that her mother was killed to reference some stupid horror movie? Vivi and Chris loved their weekends with me, loved a break from Mark. With me gone, they’d have nowhere to go. I heard footsteps again, then the whistle of something hard, metal, and thin, shrieking through the air and slicing down in an arc. The blackjack hit me in the back of the head. I dropped instantly, my gun spilled out of my right hand and the flashlight out of my left. I turned around, looking up to see a black figure standing over me. I cowered. My hands rose up instinctually. I didn’t want to get hit again. That’s what was on my mind, all that was on my mind. I’d forgotten about the gun. I’d forgotten about the killings. I just didn’t want him to hit me again. And he did. He brought the blackjack down on my left forearm. I heard it snap before I felt it. The figure above me pressed his gun into the side of my head. I could’ve tackled him. I could’ve tried something clever, but my head was a mess and my arm hurt. That was my world. Just that pain. That pain and the feat that more pain could be coming my way. The gun left my head and the man walked away. As I lay in the alley, hugging my broken arm, I kept thinking about the fact that, in Se7en, the killer overpowers Brad Pitt’s character in an alley and lets him live. After that scene, Brad Pitt’s character wears a cast for the rest of the film. Say what you will about the killer, he was making me remember a lot of details about horror movies. If that was his goal, then he was accomplishing it. I stood and walked out of the alley. The world was a blurry, intangible mess, but I did my best to keep it steady. I had to walk back into the house. There was something there. I was sure of it. I crawled up the stairs, dragged myself through the front door, and made my way into the house. And it was empty. Completely empty. In the film, the detectives enter the killer’s apartment and discover that it’s filled with hundreds of notebooks explaining the killer’s motives, as well as religious iconography and a seven display cases for elements used in each of the crime scenes. There was none of that. It was just the same empty, eyesore of a property that Mrs. Mayhew refused to rent or sell or tear down. I collapsed on the floor, vaguely aware of the police sirens and the shouts outside the front door. And there, beneath me on the hardwood floor, was a single Polaroid photo. I picked it up with my good hand. It was a photo of a bookshelf…no…of one corner of a book shelf. There were a few DVDs. Six, to be exact. Se7en. Scream. The Ring. The Exorcist. A Nightmare on Elm Street. Saw. The last thing on the shelf was an old VHS tape. Loose. There was no label because there was no box. It was a black spine. The label was on the other side, facing the other films or the shelf. I slipped the photo in my pocket, even if I felt like balling it up and throwing it away in anger. I had walked into the house hoping to find notebooks filled with the killer’s thoughts. I wanted a dozen notebooks, one for each film. Instead, all I found was a photo. But maybe the photo accomplished the same thing. Maybe it said that, instead of notebooks, the films were what the killer had seen again and again. Those films, on that shelf. A black shelf, in the corner of a room with a white wall. It could be anyone’s room, anyone’s shelf, anyone’s movies. But it looked vaguely familiar. I tried thinking, in the haze, if I had ever been to Jordan’s house…or maybe it was the shelf on the library…or the… I felt myself collapse, but it was a distant thing. Someone else’s pain. Someone else’s body hitting the ground. ​ I woke up in a hospital bed. My left arm was in a cast. The room’s light was too bright, too blurry, too much all at once. Mark and Chris were standing in front of me. So were a few of my deputies. I tried getting out of bed immediately. “What are you doing?” Mark asked. “The doctor said you suffered a concussion.” “What?” I asked. Mark repeated what he’d said, and told me that it was exactly why I had to stay in bed. “I’m fine,” I said. “What are you gonna do if I leave. Arrest me?” The deputies in front of the door looked at each other, like they were unsure what to do. Mark reached out to steady me, and I pushed him away so hard he hit the wall. “Mom!” Chris shouted. I turned to look at him. I had been so wrapped up in the case, so focused on it and on Vivi that I had barely thought about my son. What must he think, seeing me like this? Seeing his sister in another hospital room, with an oxygen mask? I reached out to him and he recoiled, taking a step back. “Let’s go, Chris,” Mark said, grabbing my son’s hand. “We’ve been here too long.” I pointed at the two deputies. “Follow them and stand watch outside the house.” “No,” Mark said. “You want to be useful? Watch her.” He motioned to me violently. I flinched at the way his hand shout out. “Make sure she stays in bed, takes her painkillers, does whatever the doctor says. She’s not thinking clearly because of the concussion.” The deputies looked at each other again, and stayed in the room. One of them led me back to my bed and helped me onto it. “Send a patrol car,” I said. “To the house.” “We will, Sheriff” the deputy said. “You should get some rest.” I slipped out of consciousness again. I don’t know for how long. But when I woke up, my phone was ringing. I dragged myself out of bed, reached the chair on the other side of the room, slid my finger across the screen, and put the phone to my ear. A deep voice was on the other end. The first time the killer had used a voice changer, it sounded like the killer in Scream. This time, he sounded like Jigsaw. “If you want your son to live,” the voice said. “Follow my directions.”

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17f0n41/a_serial_killer_is_copying_horror_movies_part_6/

nosleep

MidnightPaper

The Phobia Museum [Part 1]

“Taphophobia, the fear of being buried alive,” I read aloud from the exhibit standing before me. It depicted within a column glass display a diorama model of a wooden coffin submerged underneath a layer of soil and veiny grassroots. Within the see-through model, a tiny wax figure of a middle-aged woman wearing a colonial dress can be seen with bulging, petrified eyes from an awakened state of panic, her hands raised and her palms turned upward. “Ugh,” I shuddered, teeth clenched. I further read, “In the 17th and 18th centuries, some medical procedures involved using pair of pliers to pull at the tongue, a procedure known as ‘tongue-pulling,’ as a method to ensure that the patient was truly dead.” “Lovely,” my friend Denise shot her sarcasm, standing just a few exhibits away from me. I read on. “In fact, fears of being buried alive became so severe through the United States and Europe during the mid to late 19th century, that security coffins began being built, accompanied with an air pipe for the victim (in case of unexpected resurrection) could yell and call for help, a bell to be rung, or the raising of a flag to alert the living nearby.” “That’s if you don’t run out of air first,” Denise commented. “Oh gosh, why’d you have to mention that?” I replied, getting even more freaked out by the idea. If that one scene from *Kill Bill, Vol. 2* wasn’t enough to make me scared of being trapped six feet underneath then I don’t know what was. Denise chuckled. “Sorry, just didn’t wanna get your hopes up too much,” she said with a mischievous smirk. “At least it beats thalassophobia.” “True.” The thalassophobia display depicted an oil painting of fishermen at sea whose ship had been tipped over during a bad storm, sending several men into the water. If that wasn’t scary enough, submerged underneath the murky depths sat the menacing silhouette of a monstrous sea creature waiting for them below, packing a giant pair of tentacles and glowing yellow eyes. That one sent chills down my spine. It was almost just as chilling as the ommetaphobia display (fear of eyes) that contained countless fake eyeballs clustered together into one culmination of a scrambled, freakish mess that stared right back at you. I surely don’t have ommetaphobia, but I could see myself catching it if I stared at that exhibit any longer. “But you know what’s really bad?” Denise said. I tilted my head awaiting her answer. “Arachibutyrophobia,” she revealed, pointing her finger at the display before her. “Hmm?” I responded, puzzled. After I walked over next to her and took a lot at the same exhibit, I then knew she couldn’t be serious. I laughed and scoffed, “What the hell?” “Yeah, pretty scary, right?” Denise smiled, pointing at the reading and trying to take the joke seriously as possible. “Fear of peanut butter getting stuck to the roof of your mouth,” I read. I then dully remarked, “Mmm, terrifying.” “Scarier than anything out of Stephen King, if you ask me,” Denise joked. “Yeah, *very*.” We initially didn’t plan on paying a visit to The Phobia Museum during our stay in Prague. It was simply something we stumbled upon and had no clue of its existence prior. Denise and I were American students studying abroad in Germany; I’m majoring in Biology, and she in Biochemistry. That may sound smart to many folks when starting conversations, but no one said the shit was easy. Our professor even told us on the first day during the introduction that there is a 60% fail rate for the course. And that’s not even counting the language barrier on top of the studying hours needed to be put in. But that was expected. I went in with the mentality of understanding that college was going to be a bit tougher and more rigid than grade school. Aside from that, what more could two best friends ask for? We were studying abroad in freaking Europe! Traveling to different countries used to be something I could dream of and here we are actually doing the damn thing. Our first trip outside of Munich was to Paris, and now we were knocking out the Czech Republic with Prague. Next one we had planned was Naples in Italy, I think, but that’s still kind of up in the air for us. The beauty of living in Europe is that once in your one country, it’s very easy to travel to the rest since the continent is so condensed. Traveling between countries in Europe was like traveling between cities in the states, at least figuratively. What I both noticed and admired so far about Europe was how each country had its own unique sort of look and appeal. The architecture of Prague very much stood out on its own. Each landmark told its own story, from the Charlies Bridge, to the Astronomical Clock in Old Town, and the Prague Castle dating all the way back to the 9th century. It was like stepping into a storybook. The most interesting exhibit I think Denise and I agreed on was the Sex Machines Museum in Old Town. It was very… *interesting*, to say the least. One thing’s for sure, my mind and perspective were ‘opened’ in ways that probably could’ve been better left unopened. But I digress. The Phobia Museum was a newly-built exhibit located in Old Town. Ironic, isn’t it? It wasn’t actually that much further of a walk from the sex museum and the astronomical clock. It was almost sort of hidden, oddly enough, yet the structure seemed relatively larger on the inside than the outside. It seemed interesting enough for the both of us, so we figured why not? It was especially interesting during October since they were apparently putting on a special sort of haunted house attraction, where apparently, if you made it through all ‘Seven Levels of Fear,’ as they advertised, you could win 125,000 Czech crowns (or korunas), which was roughly the equivalent of 5,000 U.S. dollars in cash. “C’mon, stop being a chicken and win this money with me, girl!” Denise begged, pulling on my sleeve. “Why can’t I just watch and cheer you on?” I pleaded. “Cheer me on from where?! It’s a closed-off attraction.” “They have cameras?” I shrugged. “Really?” “I really don’t wanna do this, the rest of the museum is cool enough as it is, let’s just explore more if we haven’t already.” “We’ve seen just about everything, but nice try. The rest down the hall over there is the bathrooms, Slick Rick.” “Okay, okay, you got me.” “C’mon, think about it. That’s 5,000 dollars! Do you know what we could do with that money?” “Um, do more traveling? I mean, it’s not like we have to worry about tuition payments or loans or anything.” “Exactly. Do. More. Traveling. Duh! And tons more.” “I mean, we’ve only been here for like a year now, and we’ll have plenty of time to do some more in the coming months.” “Anna darling, you literally just were talking to me about how you weren’t sure about going to Naples in March because you were a bit tight on money,” Denise said as she lifted her hand, rubbing her index finger over her thumb and middle finger, signaling the money gesture. “You did say the cost for your flat getting tight, and on top of groceries? It’s just a haunted house! This shit will be an easy 5K just like that!” An ‘easy’ 5K… “Do you really think it'll be that easy if there’s 5K prize money involved?” I proposed. Denise shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re Americans. To them, it’s probably not as serious as it is to us. You know, us greedy, scumbag Americans?” “God,” I smiled, shaking my head and rolling my eyes at her silliness. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ The only worker in attendance today was old and had folds of wrinkles over the skin of his face, crow's feet and all. Like many of the locals in the city, he was quite tall, too; I’d guess about 6’4 currently, but probably 6’7 during his prime. His eyes were greyish blue and his hairline far receded in his old age. He presented us with some papers beforehand, then quickly pulled them away. “Oh, sorry, those are not in English,” he apologized. Then pulled out the proper ones in English and handed them for us to sign. He gave us time to read them over, but explained in layman’s terms. “You are just signing that you understand this is a haunted house attraction where you are going inside with the intention to be scared,” he explained each word slowly with super emphasized enunciation, then with a little laugh at the end. “And also, any possibility of injury may be at your own expense, and we may not be responsible for any injury.” Denise and I exchanged a short look, then looked back down at the papers. I never signed a waiver for a haunted house before. I guess the business was taking special precautions against certain foreigners with a tendency to sue? Like Denise said, we were Americans after all, and maybe the man had a certain impression of us beforehand, whether or not in our favor. “You sure about this?” I said to her. Denise scrunched her nose, as if she were now starting to have second thoughts, even though just a moment ago she was all for it. “Fuck it,” she said, signing the bottom of the paper. “You read all that?” I asked. “Yeah, I’m a fast reader,” she replied, handing the paper back to the man, who gave her a very tight, broad smile. “It’s pretty much like with companies in the states. In case of any injury or hell, death, you can’t be guaranteed to sue and be compensated for anything if you already go in assuming some level of risk, and yada, yada. Basic legality shit, not too much different from the states.” “Yes,” the old man nodded. My pen in hand hovered over the dotted line on the piece of paper. The way Denise explained it made sense, in a way. At least, she made it come off as so. In the back of my mind, something still felt weird about this. Not necessarily just the haunted house, but the whole fact that we were here at all doing this. We weren’t planning on coming here today, and it was our last day in the country. Yesterday we did it all, it seemed, hit up some prominent landmarks, and then ended the night with a bang at the Karlovy Lazne nightclub where we got shitfaced. Thankfully, Denise brought the last bit of her anti-hangover pills, which worked enough, but I still had to drink plenty of water to shake the feeling off. It all felt so strange to end the day here before catching the train back to Munich. I don’t know why. It just did. I wanted to walk around and shop some more near the markets in New Town or something. In one single stroke and four fancy swivels of the pen, I went ahead and signed my signature on the dotted line and handed it to the man. I groaned in instant regret. I really wasn’t looking forward to this. Denise was right, I was a pussy, and I didn’t give a damn if it was true. This was her type of thing, obviously, and I was the cowardly one. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” she nudged me. “Yeah, yeah,” I not-so-enthusiastically voiced. “Don’t worry, we’ll have fun, I promise - I’ll *make* it fun,” she tried to cheer me up. Even though we contrasted personality-wise at times, Denise always had my back. I had to give it to her for that alone. The old man then clapped his hands together. “All right, now, before we begin, let us make sure we understand that in order to win the prize money, you must make it to the very end. Yes? The *very last* level.” We both nodded. He continued. “There are seven levels you must make it through, each one *more* scary than the last.” He gave that wicked smile of his again. I guess he was trying to be funny and cute, but really, he should stop doing that. It was low-key creeping me out. Denise gave me an excited look at the sound of the levels getting scarier, though. “All you must do is make it through each room without quitting,” he went on. “If you decide to quit, you lose out on the money. There are six emergency exit doors within each course on the sides of the rooms. Some rooms are bigger than the rest, but you will see the glowing green ‘EXIT’ signs above. If you feel the need to forfeit or must leave at any point, please simply exit through the doors and follow the halls back to the building lobby. Okay?” We nodded again. “Okay, now, are you ladies ready?” he said. “Oh yes,” Denise smiled. She looked to me. “You ready?” “How long is the whole thing?” I asked. “Uh, it should be no more than an hour,” the man answered. “Mmmm,” I groaned. “Uh, yeah, we’re gonna make it through in like 30 minutes,” Denise spoke confidently. “We’re gonna speedrun this thing, right, Anna?” I threw up my hands in defeat. “Ya know what, you just lead the way, yeah?” “Fine by me, sis.” The man clapped his hands together again. “Okay, perfect!” Behind him were two large wooden doors with rusty old, dark metal handles that curved into the shape of either snakes or lions - it was hard to tell. With his wrinkly frail hand, he pulled open the left door and waved for us to enter. “Please, ladies, please enjoy. Have fun and..” - he leaned forward a tad bit - “Good luck!” he finished with that crooked smile. As he shut the door behind us, ahead stood another door with a sleek metal plaque nailed over it, and an art depiction of a freakishly distorted, sinister-looking clown. I didn’t even have to read the text over the sign to figure out what this level would entail. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ *LEVEL 1* *COULROPHOBIA: FEAR OF CLOWNS* The first thing we were met with once Denise stepped through first - of course, she was absolutely going to be taking the lead - was a colorfully-decorated hallway that I’d compare to a funhouse. The faint instrumentation of carnival music danced through the air. And to top it all off (‘cause why not?) a countless display of jester mannequin heads draped all over the walls, some small and some large, some full-body mannequin displays and some just the upper halves. Unlike the clowns we were used to seeing in America, with a big red nose or giant boots and oversized, inflated pants, these clowns were more, I guess you could say, European. They reminded me of seeing pictures and videos of Carnevale in Venice, and the hundreds of masquerade costumes and dresses that filled the streets. But those costumes were actually pretty and stylish. These ones were… downright creepy. Some of their faces were wide open with teeth in an oddly contorted fashion. One had their head tilted and jaw shifted over a bit too far on one side, yet their eyes still pierced through my soul and their eyebrows only accentuated the malevolent expression. “Ooh, these are sick, huh?” Denise said in an amused voice, giving me a look of approval. She knew damn well- “‘Sick’ in which connotation?” I remarked. She shrugged both shoulders up and down, alternating. “Uh, I mean…” she said, then trailed off. At the end of a hall was a turning point, which led down to another corridor. But as we continued stepping through, the light began to dim, making it much harder to see what awaited us around the corner. Denise chortled with excitement and anticipation. My anticipation wasn’t with excitement, however, and I closely hid behind her. “God, why did I agree to this?” I whined. “C’mon, girl, don’t be such a-” A clown head display from the wall sprung out like a cuckoo clock, emitting a mechanical wicked cackle almost like Billy the Puppet’s from *Saw*. We both immediately jumped and screamed, but I’m sure mine sounded more petrified than Denise’s. She was living for this. “Holy shit!” she laughed. “Fucking shit!” I cursed. “C’mon, let’s keep going.” I really didn’t want to. As we approached closer to the end of the hall, we saw within the darkness that the faint luminescence of a green light began to shine just around the corner. Once we bravely inched closer, we saw that the source of the light were four clear letters spelling the word ‘EXIT.’ That was the first exit door. “Change your mind yet?” Denise asked. “Hell yes,” I said, mostly serious. “Now Anna, I raised you better than that,” she joked. I sighed, but kept my grip around both her shoulders for protection. As bad as I felt, she was going to have to be my human shield if I was to get through this hellhole. “It was only the first scare,” she said. “Yeah, I’m pretty sold, they got me,” I trembled. “Let’s keep going, c’mon,” she encouraged, taking my hand like I was her child. We walked past the first exit door and continued around the corner. Across the corridor ahead, we could barely see anything, but I could make out that it was another funhouse-style interior design shaped in a tube-like tunnel. Once we took seven solid steps forward, a clown mannequin swung down in front of us from the ceiling, hanging upside down with its arms spread out in a *boo* scare position. Of course, I screamed like a little girl again, while Denise let out another laughed-scream. The remainder of that corridor was pretty much set up that way, with random clowns suspended from the ceiling dropping down at you from any minute. I see that’s why they dimmed the tube so much, to prevent you from being able to look up and expect where they’ll come from. It was clever, I’ll give ‘em that. Next was the mirror maze, ‘cause of course, what funhouse didn’t have a mirror maze. “Oh damn, I suck at these,” Denise said. “Really?” I replied. “I was a… sort of a beast at these things as a kid.” I was trying not to tremble underneath my breath while at the same time trying to let Denise know that I truly was indeed a pro at getting through the mirror maze. Don’t know why, I was always sort of good at it as a kid whenever a fair was going on and we went through one. “Maybe I should follow you this time?” she looked at me with a big smile. “Haha-no,” I shot down. She chuckled. “Worth a shot.” I key was to just reach your hands out front in a big ‘C’ or ‘U’ motion to feel for what was glass and what was air. And of course, never try to run or move too fast. I don’t need Denise telling any more embarrassing stories about me as she already has to the rest of our peers. So far so good, we were making our way through at about five feet, which doesn’t sound like much but it was actually pretty good progress for a mirror maze. This one was extremely complex, however, as it didn’t just move in slanted triangle shapes, but it even curved in all sorts of jumbled directions. I really had to focus on this one. Then I heard a thump right in front of me, followed by a “Fuck!” from Denise. I covered my hand over my mouth as I tried to suppress my snorted laugh. She bumped her head on the glass. “Ow!” Denise laughed, taking it like a champ, but still rubbing her head from pain. “I told you not to move so fast,” I said through my giggles. “I thought it was clear, I swear!” Then, in the midst of my laughter, the lights suddenly dimmed to near-pitch black, then slowly back on again, then repeated a few more times before transitioning into a complete strobe effect, flashing on and off repeatedly in rapid sessions. And to accompany the horror-flash effect, louder carnival music began to blare through my ears. And then I just remembered… “Oh fuck,” I whispered. “Denise, are you okay?” Through the short bursts of visibility I could make out of her ahead, I saw her still holding her head down and her hand raised, but I didn’t think it was from hitting her head this time. It was from her photosensitive epilepsy. “Yeah…” I heard her respond in a low voice. I could tell she was struggling a bit. “Hang on, I’m coming,” I called to her. I was amazed at how far ahead of me she was. Guess I lost her in the midst of the darkness. But seriously, what kind of haunted house attraction would have such a strong strobe light effect, one so intense without even considering the possibility of anyone- As I grabbed one corner of the class to keep pushing myself forward, I felt the brush of a band touch my fingertips. In a swift panic, I jerked my hand back as a short gasped breath escaped my lungs. No way that was Denise. She was still in front of me, as I could tell, and there was no way she could just magically teleport over to my side. But when I went back to face her, in the reflection of mirrors, I could see not only were her and I’s bodies scattered endlessly throughout the maze, but I could see what looked to be a third… and then a fourth silhouette. Their heads were topped with starfish-shaped arms hanging out tipped with bells on each end. I saw one was crouched, and when the lights came back on consecutively, I could make out that their faces were of jesters, sporting wicked grins with bright yellow teeth and twisted eyes. “Denise!” I screamed. “What?” she said. “Watch out!” I was about a foot away from her now, and was just about to grab her until it was my turn to make the clumsy mistake of running into the glass. Shit. Now was not the time to start making mistakes. My friend might actually be in trouble this time. I reached my arms out in all sides, frantically feeling for the opening. I reached my arm out to the left, and while I didn’t touch glass, I touched a shoulder. It wasn’t Denise’s. In a flash of light, a medieval clown jumped at me with arms outreached. “Aaaah!” the jester horridly shrieked to get a reaction out of me. Oh it fucking worked. I lunged back, knocking myself into a wall of glass, and instinctually ran to the right for some intuitive reason, somehow knowing that would be my way out of this corner I was caught in, and made my way over to my friend in distress. I immediately cupped both hands around her shoulders, which made her jump and scream. “Denise, are you okay?!” I asked her, panicked. I knew the clown was still right behind us, and we didn’t have much time. “C’mon, we have to go!” Now, she really was going to have to follow my lead this time. From what I recall, Denise told me it only happened on one occasion where she actually had a negative reaction to flashing lights that put her into a seizure. She told me that not many people actually have photosensitive epilepsy, but it was still possible and important to take precautions when necessary. That’s why she always covered her eyes or looked down whenever we were at a nightclub where lights could change in the blink of an eye (no pun intended) and begin flashing sporadically and in quick succession. She hugged her arm over my shoulder as I led the way, doing the best I could to navigate through the nightmare maze. The other clowns’ reflections began to appear closer with every step and every millisecond between each corresponding flash. One of them had a knife pointed downwards in their hand, at least, that’s what it looked like in the midst of the chaos. The music began blaring even louder, it felt like. With my arm reached out front and shifting left and right like a malfunctioning mechanical arm, my hand knocked against countless walls of mirrors, leaving that annoying thumping noise, which I’m sure bothered Denise more than it did me at the moment. Then I started noticing a change in color emitting from one corner of the maze. A faint green light. The exit. I knew Denise would be pissed, but she could drag me later for it. Right now, her health was at stake. Last thing I needed was her fainting on me or worse. I followed the path towards the light as best as I could. The green radiance began to grow, telling me I was getting much closer. We moved in a zig-zagged-like pattern around duplicates of ourselves staring back at us, my own face looking me in my eyes scared out of my mind. I felt one space to my left that was open, and quickly pulled Denise along. *Boo!* Another clown was waiting just around that corner. He was tall, too, and had a red-painted face with white paint around his lips and eye area. Holy fuck, he looked scary as hell. “God, would you fucking quit it, my friend needs help!” I angrily shouted, no longer scared for my sake, but for Denise’s. But the clown seemed to be ignoring me and refused to let me through that side. The motherfucker was the only thing standing between us and the path toward the exit. I saw the clown reach under the breast pocket of its striped suit and pull out an object with a glistening silver between the intermittent flashes of light and darkness about eight inches tall, holding it upside down as it gripped the handle. A knife. “Shit, c’mon, Denise!” I pulled her in the opposite direction as I tried my best not to stumble for even a moment. This shit was no longer a fun house - I don’t even know why they call it that - and this certainly wasn’t anything worthy of any type of ‘Level 1’ for any competition. This was too much for either one of us. Surely, that knife had to be fake. There was no way… That being said, that indisputable sensation that gushed through my nerves, lunged all through my throat and chest, reminded me of the same sensation I’d got only in one other instance when I was 15 years old and helpless… At that moment, I swore to only one realization, knowing who my dad was and after I could no longer hear my mom put up a fight. I was going to die. It’s a feeling you can’t quite shake off, and one that we’ve evolved to recognize to keep us alive in the future. Even though this was a ‘game,’ even though this was just a fun challenge to win some money in the end, I can’t help feeling drowned by that exact sensation I’d felt years ago, at this very instance. This was the only other time it’d returned. That was enough to tell me that perhaps this wasn’t just a game. That if Denise and I didn’t make it out of here, we were going to die. The only good that came out of that fight or flight response, however, turned out to be the only thing that was keeping me going. Adrenaline. If I could hyperfocus as hard as I was now every time, I wouldn’t have to stress ever again about passing a final exam. The endless layers of mirror and the duplicates of clowns surrounding us began to play in my mind more and more like a puzzle piece that I just had to get ourselves out of. As terrified as I was, I couldn’t afford to let that stop me. And at last, ahead began to appear another luminesce amid the white flashing chaos. This time, instead of a green illumination of the exit sign, there appeared a yellow vibrance that grew bigger as we kept pushing forward. As I made it around another convoluted pathway, I saw the muddled but undeniable words “FINISH!” spelled out in bright neon yellow, and could draw out the outline of what could only be a door underneath. That was the checkpoint. I couldn’t believe it for a second. That was our way out. So relieved and mesmerized by the bright lights, I instantly snapped out of it when the scream of another clown from the side came charging at me with a blade. I jerked the two of us just out of its path, feeling the metal brush just across my shoulder. “Denise, it’s just up ahead! Let’s go!” I encouraged. “Uh-huh,” she responded, still keeping her head down and eyes partially veiled from the bright flashes. “I trust you.” She was taking this much better than I ever could’ve. Had the roles been reversed, Denise would have probably fought back herself and given some of these clowns a black eye or bloody noses to go with their makeup. Had there been absolutely no choice but to fight between ‘fight or flight,’ she knows I’d do the same for her. But even for me, the strobe lights were becoming too intense. I was beginning to slow down and get an eyesore. If we stayed any longer… The exit was nearly arm’s reach away now. Keeping Denise huddled close next to me, I reached for the door first and swung it open. Just from behind, like a bat out of hell, a freakishly distorted jester crawling on all fours raced at us. But I don’t know how she saw, but Denise kicked the shit out of it right in the face, leaving that bitch seething in pain and hopefully with a broken nose. “Get the fuck back!” she growled. “C’mon, c’mon!” I hastily pulled her into the other side of the door with me, before immediately shutting it behind us. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ We found ourselves in a small waiting room of sorts, closed in by decrepit, aged walls and a checkered-pattern floor. The faint buzz of a single fluorescent light beam lined the ceiling. On the left side of us stood a door, with the green neon sign marked ‘EXIT’ perched above. I held onto Denise, keeping my arm wrapped around her for support. “You okay?” I asked her. “Denise? Just breathe, okay? Take a second to catch your breath. I’m right here.” “Yes, mom,” she replied with that classic Denise sarcasm in her infliction. I smiled, at least knowing that she was all right. Thank whatever god there was. “I’m sorry, I know this sounded fun to you and all, but we need to get the fuck out of here,” I insisted. “The exit door’s right there.” Denise said nothing as she rubbed her eyes. “There’s a shit ton of other things we can do in Prague besides damn near getting our asses killed by some clowns,” I continued. She then started stretching open her eyes large and wide, blinking multiple times to set her vision back. “Denise?” I pressed, waiting for her feedback. “It’s just a haunted house, Anna,” Denise spoke at last. “They can’t kill us. That’d be illegal.” I opened my mouth about to speak, but was nearly at a loss for words. She did have a point, yes, but what I felt back there… “Denise, I don’t- I don’t know,” I stammered. “There was something back there I felt, something about being in there that just didn’t feel right to me. It felt like it was way too intense. Hell, I had to drag you out of there myself, otherwise you would’ve - I don’t know, fainted or something. Those lights were flashing way too bright and way too fast.” “Wasn’t that much worse from some of the ones in the club last night,” Denise facetiously remarked. “Denise.” She threw her head back, looking up to the ceiling as she heaved a big sigh. “Anna, if you want to leave, you can, it’s no problem, seriously,” she said to me. I couldn’t believe her. “What?” I exclaimed. “You can wait for me outside if you want, or you can go get some trdelníks down the street, I don’t care. But I’m gonna keep going.” “Denise, you damn risked your life back there - I damn near risked my life in there with you! I’m starting to think those waivers we signed were a liability for them to have permission to legally murder us or some shit!” “Look, I need the money, Anna,” Denise faced me with both hands clasped, dead serious. I narrowed my eyes at her. “The prize money?” “Yeah, the 5,000 dollars. I need it.” “... Denise, what’s going on? Why do you need money so bad?” She stood with her back against the wall as she looked up to the ceiling again, frustration in her eyes. “My dumbass, incompetent brother caught me in a bind, financially,” she explained, shaking her head. “He’s always trying to take shortcuts, always trying to find a way to ‘beat the system.’ He got caught in a Ponzi scheme a while back, like back last December, even though I told his ass not to get involved. But does he ever listen?” She scoffed. “Now come to find out, a couple weeks ago, after I let him stay with me for those two months, remember that?” I nodded. “Well, this bitch went behind my back and stole 3,000 dollars from me and put more into the investment. How? I don’t know, but he fucking did, and now I’m not sure how much longer I can afford to stay overseas and keep studying abroad.” And to think all this time, we were just having a good time with no cares in the world. I presumed at least one of us was. “Fuck, Denise,” I sympathized. “I know,” she nodded. “I don’t have many other options besides dropping out of school and living back with my mom in Mayland. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t wanna ruin the trip, and I didn’t want you to pity me over my bullshit.” I shrugged my shoulders. “You’ve told me much worse. You’re my friend, Denise. And that’s not what’s gonna ruin anything between us.” She looked me in the eye. “Uh- that’s not going to ruin anything between us,” I corrected instantly. “You know?” Denise gave me a faint smile, but I could tell it was genuine. “Thanks, Anna,” she said. There was an awkward moment of silence between us. All I could do was keep looking at the exit door. “So you’re gonna really try and finish this thing, huh?” I spoke. “Like I said, you’re more than welcome to go without me,” she stated. “I just really need this money. It might be the only thing to keep me afloat in the meantime, and to get me out of the mess my dipshit brother caused.” After going through all the shit we’d just witnessed in that funhouse back there, and to think that was only Level 1, there was no fucking way she was expecting to get through this alone. As much as I wanted to quit, and she knows good and well I wanted to, Denise knew I couldn’t just leave her here. I shook my head. “C’mon, let’s do this,” I proclaimed. “Who’s going to carry you around if there’s any more strobe lights that trigger your epilepsy?” She chortled for a brief second. “True,” she said. Ahead of us stood another door, and like the first one, labeled with words marked to indicate the next obstacle that lay ahead. But as with the coulrophobia door, I could already make out the phobia that awaited us on the other side by looking at the illustration of two intertwined serpents, their razor-sharp fangs and pointed forked tongues engraved into the door.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17eyp4p/the_phobia_museum_part_1/

nosleep

aaron__47

A Soul in The Campfire

Ten years had passed since Wendy Lacy’s body had been found dumped in the woods near Limestone Road. I had read the official story but it was bland and sparse on details. The stories circulating throughout school were far more interesting, even if they were inconsistent. One was that she was decapitated, body laid on its back, arms crossed neatly across her chest. The head was allegedly found later on a church altar. Another was that her body was found in the middle of a pentagram painted on the ground. The classic devil-worshipper motive. The most common, and most corroborated, was that her body was found nude and mutilated. The only consistent aspects of every story were where the body was found and the fact that the killer was never caught. An ambitious photojournalist had snapped a photo of the crime scene tape tied to several trees bordering a stone wall next to a dried-up creek bed. The body was assumed to be out of sight on the other side of the wall. Rosie, a goth-witch, steampunk emo kind of girl, had mentioned to me and my friend Bill that she knew a magical concoction that could conjure up the dead. One day at lunch we invited her to camp out with us one Saturday night and see what would happen. “Sure, I’ll bring my boyfriend.” “Boyfriend?” “Yeah, boyfriend! Does that surprise you?” “No, I just never saw you with anyone.” “I wouldn’t date anyone from this lame school, to be sure.” She picked up her tray and dumped everything into the trash. “Not this Saturday, but next Saturday. I’ll have all the materials.” That next Saturday we walked two or so miles from my house to get to the spot. We started from the Melo-Mart after purchasing a couple of sodas and some gum. We walked to the wide curve in the road that was the unofficial trailhead, with a cleared man-made opening. Beyond that was a worn-out trail made by curious ghost seekers, littered with roadside debris, trash, and fallen leaves. The shoulder of the road was high and it was a steep drop off from the road to the path. I made it the ground with no problem, but Bill stumbled and rolled into a Honey Locust tree, piercing his shoulder with a string of large thorns. There was a burst of laughter from the opposite side of the road. Rosie and her boyfriend walked up to us as I was surgically removing the thorns from Bill’s shoulder. “I hope there’s some blood on that thorn. Don’t need much. It’ll save me from having to cut one of you.” She didn’t introduce us to her boyfriend. He was the palest dude I’d ever seen, or at least it seemed that way contrasted with his light blue hair. He had on black jeans, white tee shirt, with what looked like a work jacked with what I assumed was his dad’s name across the front pocket. He was the quiet type, never exhibiting anything other than a stoic facial expression. Rosie, was all decked out in what I could only explain as a steampunk witch. She had a black dress, with bolts, nuts, and various other pieces of hardware sewn into the fabric. Her long black hair was pulled up into pigtails with gold bows embroidered with black steampunk skulls. Thrust across her shoulder was a large leather bag. She looked cute and ridiculous. “Let me see that.” She took the thorns out of my hand and surveyed the surface. “Hmmm… we’ll need more than this, but it will work as a good symbol for unforeseen pain.” She closed her fist around the thorns and walked ahead toward the crime scene. We kept a steady hike. I had never been to the site, but I assumed it wasn’t too far from the road. We followed the trail deep into the woods. The sight of broken bottles and beer cans subsided, and the forest floor became more natural, more removed from human waste. The undergrowth became thicker, crowding up against the narrow trail, some dying, some awakening to the death of the approaching winter. The light was now low, and I saw a bright red cardinal fly across the trail. “How much longer?” I asked. “We’re almost there. Once you see the cardinal, it's only a matter of minutes from there,” responded Rosie. “What? The cardinal?” “Yep, and when we hear the raven, we’ll turn left off of the trail.” “We need to stay on the trail. The trail leads right to the site,” Bill said. “That’s what everyone thinks, but I know where the real crime scene is.” A raven crowed in the distance. Rosie immediately turned left and pushed her way through the thickets. “Where are going?” I asked. I turned and looked at Bill in disbelief. We followed begrudging our every move. Rosie’s boyfriend never said a word. “Hey buddy. What’s the deal? Have you ever been to this place?” Bill asked him. He turned and shook his head up and down. “So is this a joke.” He shook his head from side-to-side. “How much farther?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Well thank you Mr. Mime for all the info!” I snapped. “I’m done. I’m going back.” “Oh, shut up you big baby. We’re here,” Rosie yelled. I ducked through one last barrier of foliage and found myself in a wide-open glade. Through the middle of the glade ran an old stone wall. On the other side was a dried creek bed with large exposed limestone rocks. Further up the creek bed the ground was moist and covered in moss. Rosie climbed over the rock wall and walked up the creek bed to the moist spot. She pointed her finger at the ground. “This is where she was raped.” She walked back down towards us and stopped on one of the large dry limestone rocks. “This is where he cut her throat.” She walked out of the creek bed an onto the other side near a patch of red cedar trees. She became blurred in the shade of the trees. “And this is where she finally died.” She knelt down and patted the ground. “How do you know all this? You’re making this shit up.” She ignored me. “We’ll build a fire right over the spot where she died and then we’ll summon her with some incense I brought.” It was late afternoon, more toward twilight and it was becoming difficult to see. We gathered little branches first and lit those with some paper her boyfriend had brought. As the fire began to grow, the light flickered around the surrounding trees. We rustled through the woods and found bigger branches, enough to sustain a good fire through the ritual. “I need some wood from the area where she was raped.” “I got it,” Bill said eagerly. Bill walked up to the moist area, bent down, and screamed. “What the hell.” I ran up to him. He turned his head towards me and pointed to the ground. There on the ground was an entire set of teeth placed to look like a grisly smile. In between the upper and lower teeth was a bloody severed tongue. Rosie put her hand on my shoulder. It startled me. “Calm down. It’s just discarded animal bones.” “Looks human to me,” I said. “Grab one of the teeth. That’ll work. We don’t need wood. Just something from this area. Almost perfect wouldn’t you say?” I hesitated. “Damn baby.” She reached down and scooped up all the teeth and the tongue. She skipped over to the fire and tossed them in. The fire shot up into the air, turned blue, diminished and slowly faded back to orange. She then took some incense sticks out of her leather bag and threw them in as well. I saw that she was moving her mouth, but I couldn’t hear her voice. I moved closer to her but still couldn’t hear what she was saying. “Rosie.” She didn’t respond. “Rosie.” Still nothing. I waved my hand in front of her eyes. No response. Finally, I shook her. “Hey. Don’t touch me.” “I’m sorry. What do we do now?” “Nothing. We wait.” Rosie placed herself directly in front of the fire. She wouldn’t let us talk. She explained that it would ruin the ritual, that we would anger the ghost. We waited forever. The sun had set, our shadows were dancing in the treetops and snaking across the ground. The fire was brighter than it had been earlier in the day and a thought occurred to me that we hadn’t added any fuel to the fire in quite a while. The branches in the fire were bright but not consumed. The only sound was the crackle of the fire and the wind through the leaves. “This is boring. It was cool at first but I’m ready to go home,” Bill said. “Don’t worry. She’s about to make an appearance.” Her boyfriend started to whimper, the first sound he had made all day. The wind picked up. Rosie stood up and started to undress. She walked nude into the middle of the fire and turned towards us. Her body caught fire, but was not consumed. Her skin glowed bright orange and as she stood in the fire, a long gash opened up across her neck, shooting blood outward onto the creek bed and into the fire. The fire roared with the splattering of blood. Rosie’s boyfriend ran towards us, yelling with his mouth open. His teeth and tongue were missing. I think he was yelling ‘help me’ but his words came out mumbled and weak. As he approached us, his feet were pulled out from under him from some unseen force. His body was sliding across the ground towards the fire. When he approached the rock wall, he was slung up into the air like he was hanging on a cross. He floated in midair for a few seconds, crying for help. The wind died down. There was no movement. The boyfriend hung in the air, apologizing for what he had done. Bill and I turned to run back through the thicket but our bodies were forced to turn and watch. A force outside our control had us bound and trapped as spectators. The boyfriend’s body was quickly drawn into the fire. Rosie wrapped her arms around him and started eating into his jaw. The fire extinguished and we were cast into darkness. The smell of smoke and burnt flesh were drifting through the air. We were freed from the force and started to run. Branches and briars were slapping us in the face and across the body. We didn’t care. It felt like my lungs were about to collapse as we finally made our way to the path. We couldn’t see much but it was enough to get us back to the road. As we got to the road, we heard a car pass. There was something pleasing about the sound of a passing car. It signified that we had made it out of hell and back into civilization. We ran up onto the road. I turned to look back at the path, but nothing was there. “Let’s get out of here,” Bill suggested. “Yeah, let’s go.” We started to jog down the road. “Hey boys.” We turned and looked back. It was Rosie, standing at the edge of the curve of the road, dressed in her steampunk witch outfit. “Let’s do this again sometime.” Her boyfriend nowhere to be found.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17f2el8/a_soul_in_the_campfire/

nosleep

SubstantialBite788

My friend moved to a town where people aren’t allowed to take photos. They had a job for me.

[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/174k8wi/my_friend_moved_to_a_town_where_people_arent/) [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/178gc3o/my_friend_moved_to_a_town_where_people_arent/) When we got home, Bryce asked for a few hours to destress before my barrage of questions. He spent most of it reading a gothic mystery novel on the sofa, as well as retreating into his room to do some private journaling. The evening settled in, and Bryce finally scuttled into my room. “The mayor, huh? When were you planning to tell me *that* was what you did here?” He threw his arms up in exasperation. “Look, I… there was…” he struggled, “I don’t know. I’m not sure if I ever would’ve felt comfortable mentioning it if I’m being honest. I *never chose* the job. They gave it to me when I got here, and since then, I’ve just been trying to get by.” I only had one glaring question on my mind at this point.“ Everyone in that building said that you *hated* Meredith Lane.” “People here say stupid stuff, literally none of that is–” “Bryce, just please, *please* tell me you didn’t order for that poor woman to get chained and tortured like that.” Bryce stared at me, aghast.“ Do you really, *actually* think I’m capable of something like that?” Of course, in the moment, I told him no. But as I lay there in bed that night, the question spun around in my head. *Was Bryce capable of great evil?* The guy I’d known my whole life? No. The guy who’s been trapped in this demented town for months now? I’m… not sure? This place could ruin anyone after enough time, couldn’t it? I stopped myself there, and turned my brain off for the sake of some shuteye. In the morning, I checked the clock on my bedside table. *7:15 AM.* That’s twice now. I entered the dining room. Bryce had left breakfast on the table for me! Sweet of him. With it, came a note: *Got called in for an early job. I’m helping make candles today - whatever that means here.* *I know it’s in your DNA to be brash, but please don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.* *Stay home. And if for some strange reason you still decide to wander out, stay far, far, far away from the graveyard. Bad things happen the closer you get to it.* I took a bite of my toast. *Me? Brash? Why I never.* After finishing up the morning spread, I sauntered to the living room window and looked outside. Once again, folks were gathered inside the Victorian mansion across the street. They sat in a circle, each of them with a book in hand. This time, however, their attention was focused on a TV in the room – something playing that I couldn’t quite make out from my vantage point. Someone rose to turn the TV off. Then they all looked at me in unison and smiled. *What.* Without missing a beat, they shifted their focus back to the books. One of the men began to read aloud, while the rest followed intently. Welp. One thing was for certain: I’d rather be chained up like Meredith Lane than forced to join the disturbing reading group here. I pondered what to do with my day. Surely, not everything in town was preposterously dangerous? At least one of the 80 or so convenience store clerks must have had some sort of insight on how to escape… right? Wait. Bryce wasn’t home. Again. And he had a journal. *Did I dare?* It would’ve been an invasion of privacy, sure, but, y’know, desperate times, desperate measures, sometimes you gotta break some rules, yadda yadda yadda. I entered his room. After a bit of scanning, I located the journal that he’d stashed in one of his drawers. I flipped to the latest entry, hoping to find something interesting. At the top of the page was yesterday’s date. Underneath, a few bullet points lazily scribbled: \- What was with the portrait of the car in the Parker building yesterday? \- Guy who attacked Rose looked familiar? \- Who is Meredith Lane? Why did I kind of like seeing her get tortured? What? The third line stunned me. Felt like a bullet had gone through my stomach. Suddenly, my pocket vibrated sharply. *A text?* I pulled my phone out and read the first new message I’d received since I’d arrived here. From a number I didn’t recognize, it simply read: **“Be outside in one minute. Your job for the day is ten bodies.”** *You have got to be fucking kidding me.* Was this a test? Was I supposed to ignore it? Or was this a task I *had* to follow? *Does this town really want me to kill people?* A knock at the door. Then another. And another. I stashed the journal back into the drawer, now with bigger fish to fry than figuring out Bryce’s inner workings. I searched my mind for a “smart thing to do” here and came up empty. Rudderless, I walked to the front door’s peephole and checked outside. A man in a Hawaiian shirt stood idly at the door. He looked bored. Further out, an ambulance sat parked on the street. *Is he gonna kill me?* As if reading my mind, he spoke up. “Not gonna kill you, newbie.” I didn’t respond. “You’re on the route today,” he added. *Could I actually trust him?* He looked at his watch. “Look, it’s your life. Do what you gotta do. But, bad things *do* happen when you turn down a job, so I’d strongly suggest–” I swung the door open, raised my fists and shot him my meanest glare. *That should scare him.* He chuckled. “It’s gonna take more than a punch to kill me, I’m afraid.” He pivoted and began descending the stairs. “Alright, let’s head out.” I followed him. He casually paced towards the ambulance’s rear doors, opened them, and stepped inside. I peeked in behind him, anticipating the horrifying sight of piles and piles of dead bodies… Instead, the ambulance looked surprisingly ordinary. To the left, a white bench stretched along the wall. A rather striking woman was seated, dressed in a cloak that was all-too-familiar to me at this point. The Hawaiian-shirted man settled in beside her. On the opposite side, a pile of single-fold stretchers were haphazardly arranged against the wall. Dominating the center, a modest table was firmly anchored to the floor. Atop it sat an eye-catching candle and a worn, black digital camera. I climbed into the back. Without missing a beat, the mystery man slipped on a cloak similar to the woman’s and handed me another just like it. “Your uniform for when you’re on the job,” he clarified. He shut the back doors, struck a match to light the candle, and moments later the vehicle set into motion. I begrudgingly put on the bulky cult outfit. *Guess I’m part of the club now.* Unsure of what to do next, I ran with an icebreaker. “So, is our job…” I said slowly, “to, uh… bash people’s heads in or something?” The man and woman looked at each other, eyebrows raised in shared bemusement. They started laughing. “Oh, you newcomers,” the man said, wiping away a tear. “So good…” “Yes,” the woman tagged, “We use *terrifying black magic rituals* to punish all those who try to leave.” “And sometimes, when the magic doesn’t work, we resort to the ancient art of… stick throwing.” She nodded. “Never underestimate a well-aimed twig.” Dorky giggles permeated their sarcastic ribbing. It was annoying. “Look, clearly you two are having a ball right now, but can you just say it plainly: *You don’t kill people.* Right?” “Right,” the woman responded, more seriously. “Some of us just want to get through the cursed day and go home.” *Fair enough, lady.* It was an interesting ambulance ride. I learned their names! Matthias and Svetlana. They were a couple, actually. I’m ashamed that I only caught on once I saw them sneak a kiss. They spent most of the ride doing some… pretty nonsensical stuff. With a deck of cards, they played a demented version of “Go Fish” that I couldn’t fully understand the rules of. Later, Matthias broke into song - belting what sounded like three vaguely familiar pop tunes randomly mashed together. Svetlana knew it and sang along, which is I guess what mattered. Finally, Svetlana pitched a game where we would all ask each other increasingly personal questions. I bowed out, using the excuse that I was still jarred by the “no small talk” rule in the Parker Group building. The two of them passed questions back and forth. “What’s the funniest thing that’s ever happened to you”, “When was the last time you felt super embarrassed?” And then, rather innocently, from Svetlana to Mattias. “What was the happiest moment of your life?” He looked back at her wistfully. “The day I met you.” She held her hand to his cheek, and they shared a genuinely loving gaze. *Barf. Barf barf barf barf barf barf. Too much, please make it stop –* The ambulance screeched to a halt. The driver called out. “Alright, body retrieval! Let’s go.” My colleagues shifted to a more somber tone. They opened the rear exit and stepped out. I followed. We had stopped at a house. There, on the grass before us, a man lay dead. A camera in his hand. His twisted neck, contorted body, and protruding bones gave me flashbacks to Meredith. Two police officers stood over him. They regarded us as we walked up. “Took a photo of himself. Sucker’s way out,” one said. The other officer chimed in. “You gotta question the logic. Did he think this would somehow be a *shorter death*?” The first mimed taking a photo, voice high-pitched in imitation. “He was probably like - ahhh, this will be painless!” “Hahahahaha! CLICK! DING! Wait, why am I not dead? Wait, what’s that?! AHHHHH!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!” Matthias pulled a stretcher from the ambulance, setting it next to the lifeless figure while the officers laughed. Together, he and Svetlana softly lifted the body onto it. “What the hell? Why are all of you so damn glum?” one of the officers said. He turned to me. “You. You especially.” Svetlana and Matthias lifted the stretcher and brought it into the ambulance. The officers closed their distance with me.“ You’re pretty tense,” the second officer remarked. “Maybe living with the mayor is starting to take its toll on you?” Matthias called from the ambulance. “Alright, let’s go Rose!” But I couldn’t move. The collective stare of the officers had me petrified.The first officer leaned in closer. “I’m sure you know the mayor is terrified of cops, don’t you? He has a whole page about it in that diary of his you snooped this morning.” *How could they possibly know –* “What? Do you not realize we see everything? Do you actually think your rule-breaking is going unnoticed?” I backed away from them as if they were two lurking panthers. No sudden movements. Calm. Deliberate. Any misstep could spell doom. Gently, I felt for the edge of the ambulance before hoisting myself through the rear doors. I closed them behind me. Mercifully, the ambulance rolled forward. I settled into my seat. As the fear subsided, involuntarily, my eyes swelled up. Matthias placed a hand on my shoulder. Svetlana gently touched my arm. “Don’t worry about those creeps,” said Matthias. “Those shits won’t do anything to you,” she added. “They’re just talk.” I appreciated the gesture. Unfortunately, it was hard to feel great with the grim sight of a mangled corpse in front of us. Matthias shook his head at the sight. “Even with how hellish all of this is, I’ll never understand doing something like that to yourself.” Svetlana gazed at the stretcher, her eyes full of compassion. “Perhaps, he just wasn’t strong enough to handle it anymore.” Matthias shrugged. Despite some weak attempts at small talk from all three of us, it was hard to shake the dismal air now permeating the ambulance. The ride went on for a good while. Until - “Destination!” the driver called. The vehicle jolted to a stop.Svetlana pushed the doors open, revealing a vast forest expanse. The trees, though large, were spread out and sparse. In the distance, I spotted a thick white fog that seemingly stretched out into eternity. *Were we at the edge of town?* One by one, we exited the ambulance, our steps crunching on the leaves underneath. The rear doors had been left ajar. “Okay,” I started. “So what do we–” I was interrupted by the CLICK of a camera. I shuddered. Svetlana held me still as the sound of another CLICK went off. Then another. “What’s happening–” “Don’t worry,” she soothed. “We only have to collect the bodies.” I realized that each echo of a click was accompanied with a piercing flash contained within the smothering mist ahead of us. *What was this?* A gentleman I barely had time to notice stepped out from behind a nearby tree and paced toward the fog. He muttered under his breath, *“It’ll be okay, it’ll all be okay, just a quick snap, I won’t even feel it, then I’ll be free.”* He crossed the threshold into the fog and ventured deeper, becoming more of a faint trace with each step. In my peripheral, I noticed another woman in tattered clothes step across the forest, and into the shrouding haze. Her mumbles barely reached my ears: *“I believe in the walking fire the holy serpent the tree of life will perish for our salvation.”* In she went. From behind us, another man triumphantly jogged past, straight into the mist. He shouted out as he did: *“It’s a fucking mirage! There’s nothing real keeping us here!”* Deeper he went, until he was just a speck in the white veil. *“Everything was a lie–”* CLICK. CLICK. CLICK. Each click was accompanied with the sound of a harsh pop, and a powerful flash within the fog. The sound of bodies dropping. And then, as if they were the tide coming in, the bodies softly and effortlessly slid right out of the fog. Right in front of us, now. Bodies with pulverized heads. Like all the others I’d seen the ambulances drop off. I tried to process what I was seeing. Matthias, meanwhile, was all business. He pulled small stretchers out of the ambulance and began positioning them next to the bodies, sighing all the while. “Quota was 10, so this should be pretty quick,” he said. I scanned the environment closely. Far off, more lifeless forms lay scattered. The clicks continued, lights flashing, bodies floating out of the fog. There were already way more than ten dead here. Behind us, groups of people lurked behind trees, staring out into the abyss. Were these folks who were contemplating ‘escaping’ too? Svetlana addressed Matthias briefly. “I think our newbie is scared, so I’m gonna comfort her.” He nodded as she led me aside. “I’m not that sca–” I started, but she shushed me. “I love you,” she called out to Matthias. “Love you too,” he responded, a tad absently, distracted by his work. What a pro. She pulled me away from the scene, to a looming tree beside the fog. “What is it?” I asked her. She pulled something out of her pocket and placed it in my hand. It was a sketch. A pencil drawing of Matthias. It was pretty good. “I drew it for him one random night. I’m very grateful that sketches aren’t illegal.” A quiet laugh followed her words. I shot her a confused look. She smiled. “Please give it to him, okay.” “Uh, sure,” I said. “...why?” She took a deep breath, then turned around and disappeared into the fog. *Wait.* *What are you–* CLICK! She was close enough that I saw the flash cave in her head. Before she’d even hit the ground, her corpse was pulled out of the fog and brought to my feet. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. In disbelief, I wandered back to Matthias. He was in the midst of loading another body into the already full-looking ambulance. “Finally deciding to help, eh?” he said, presumably hearing my steps. I couldn’t say anything. He turned around in response to my silence. “Why are you crying?” I’d clearly forgotten how to talk. He walked up to me, his gaze lowering to the item in my hand. I passed it to him. A confused smile crossed his face. He lifted his head to peer over me. His eyes found Svetlana’s body in the distance.He exhaled sharply. After a minute of stillness, he approached what was left of her. I placed my hand on his back and accompanied. Walking that small distance felt like a lifetime. Finally, she was in front of us. Matthias looked down at her lovingly. **“She never isn’t beautiful.”** The best I could muster up in response was a platitude. “She really loved you, you know.” He scrunched up a smile. “And I, her.” He stood. He put the sketch into his cloak pocket, then lovingly tapped it after placing. “So, the good news is, I’ve already loaded eight. I pray that Svetlana and I won’t be too heavy,” he said. And then, with a brisk pace, he walked into the fog. *No.* I chased behind him, crossing into the mist. I reached out to pull at his cloak. “Please, please stop, just wait a second, there has to be something you can do, there has to be *something–*” I’m not even sure if he could hear me. Deeper still, he went. Deeper still, I followed. My words didn’t even make any sense. *What am I doing? This is insane.* I extended out with all my might to pull him back. *“Please, you can’t just give up.”* CLICK. And he was gone. And as his blood flickered onto me, I realized I was going to be next. There I was yet again, staring death in the face, whilst feeling nothing but confusion. With a violent yank, I felt *something* pull me out of the fog. Suddenly, the cloud of white was in front of me. I wasn’t within it anymore. I turned around to see who or what might’ve pulled me to safety, but it was already gone. I could’ve sworn I heard a whisper as the force brought me out. The words: *“You should be enjoying your gift.”* I cried in fear and hell and all things awful as Matthias’s body appeared beside me. In the hour it took to get up and finish the shift, I wondered what the fuck kind of gift this was supposed to be. – It wasn’t fair. Neither of them deserved this. So I did the only thing that felt right. When the text came in, telling me to *“Drop the bodies in the middle of the street. Any street is fine.”* \- I refused. They deserved a proper resting place. And so I told the ambulance driver that the instructions were to take all ten to the graveyard. He seemed surprised, but he obliged anyway. It wasn’t until halfway through burying the bodies that I remembered Bryce’s warning about the graveyard. Though, to be honest, nothing out of the ordinary happened. Yes, amongst a sea of hundreds of pre-dug graves and tombstones marked by the names of strangers, it was a bit weird to see mine and Bryce’s names among the bunch. But besides that, it was pretty tame! The ambulance driver brought me back home. He didn’t seem too stressed about the two crew deaths today. His logic was “It’s unfortunate, but that’s the way things go.” When I pressed him on what he meant, he said “There’s a certain decency to letting things go. A decency in allowing death to be death, and not fighting it. And not being the kind of person who tampers with that reality.” *Okay, Freud.* When I got home, I remembered Bryce’s unnerving journal entry, and tried to muster up the sanity to finally start being afraid of him. But I just couldn’t. He’s harmless. I know he is. Though I will say, he’s acting pretty weird right now. He’s staring out the living room window at the Victorian mansion across the street. He’s holding one of his mystery novels in his hand. He keeps saying “I get it now, I get it now, I get it now,” and he’s starting to look a bit frenzied. I’ll ask him what’s going on once he calms down a bit.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17elf0k/my_friend_moved_to_a_town_where_people_arent/

nosleep

WorldAwayTweedy

The Hitchhiker

​ “It was already 2 in the morning when I left the bar. I couldn't find a place to stay for the night, so I was forced to take the highway to get back home. It started to rain, nothing more than the usual summer rain. The effects of alcohol combined with the monotonous sound of the rain falling on the car made me feel drowsy. I turned on the radio, but all I heard was distortion, except for a few segments of the road. I decided to turn it off. I was about to lose a tough battle against sleep when I saw him. A man covered in a heavy black coat stood motionless in the rain on the side of the road. He was probably in the same situation as me but had thought that he could make it to his destination on foot. I immediately felt sorry for him, wondering how long he had been waiting. Besides, I absolutely needed something to keep me awake, so some conversation would have surely helped. However, as I pulled over, I was overcome by a deep anxiety. I attributed it to the effects of alcohol, the late hour, and the usual discomfort of letting strangers into your car. "Need a ride?" I asked, lowering the window. "Yes... thank you," he replied with the voice muffled by his coat and the rain. Only when he got into the car, I realized he had a heavy black leather(?) bag with him. He closed the door with a tug and remained silent. "So... where do you want me to take you?" I asked somewhat embarrassed. "Keep going... I will tell you when to stop" he replied without even turning to look at me. I understood that there would be no conversation with this guy, but at least now I wasn't sleepy anymore. I turned on the radio, but the audio seemed even more distorted than before, and the few words I could make out didn't seem like anything that could come out of a person's mouth. The man in the coat turned it off without saying a word, and I didn't blame him. I continued to drive. We reached an intersection, and I finally managed to break the silence. "Which way?" I asked, not hiding my curiosity. He remained motionless for a few seconds, then said "Wait a moment, please." After saying this, he leaned towards the black leather bag at his feet and opened it just enough to slide his hand inside. He pulled out an object I had never seen before. It resembled one of those old flip cell phones, but instead of a keypad, it had three levers and three black buttons; there was nothing where the screen should have been, and the only feature on the top was a small wheel. He mechanically moved the levers, and when he noticed I was watching him, he suddenly turned towards me. What I saw... no. I can't describe it. Words woudln't be enough to make you understand what was wrong with him, just... *(the page was torn)*. He had appeareance but no never seen no never human? I never stopped seeing him,it usually happens in my most haunting nightmares. Who is Joshua? Was that a mouth? Were those...eyes? *(incomprehensible scribbles and scratched words)*. I would rather die than have another encounter with such a creature. Overcome by panic, I turned away immediately, my head started to spin. I was sweating and feeling like I had to throw up. Only the fear of what he might have done if I reacted in any way held me back. I put my hands on the wheel, closed my eyes, and waited. I heard the phone wheel being turned and the buttons being pressed rapidly. After about two minutes of this, he began to "speak." My senses were overwhelmed by a voice that emitted sounds I could never have imagined. It was as if his words were the result of acoustic distortion, composed of notes and intonations that didn't belong to any human language. It was a kaleidoscope of incomprehensible sounds, each of which entered my ears and ran through my brain. I was on the verge of screaming when it all ended. I had no idea how much time had passed, but I stayed with my eyes closed for so long that it was the creature itself that brought me back to reality. "Keep driving" he said in his monotonous tone, but I could sense a hint of annoyance. My heart started beating again, and I pressed the accelerator. I had completely lost my sleep, but at least I had found religion: for the past ten minutes, I had been asking God forgiveness for my sins. Finally, my prayers were answered, and the creature firmly said "Stop". Well, my time had come. Now that I had completed my task, I was no longer needed. I felt somewhat relieved, after all, the torture was over. I didn't want to see how the light would go out, so I closed my eyes again and waited. But instead of hearing my neck snap, all I heard was the car door being opened. The hitchhiker picked up the bag and got out of the car, while I continued to gasp, looking straight ahead, not even knowing where we had stopped. "Thank you," he said before taking a few steps. Then suddenly he added, "Do you know anyone named Joshua?" I felt his gaze burning my head, so I replied without even thinking. "No, I've never heard of him." Everything stopped for a moment, before he slowly turned around and started walking again. I stood still and waited. I don't know what I was waiting for, maybe I was afraid he had forgotten something, and I didn't want him to follow me. A lot of time passed, I think, because when I finally came to my senses, I could see the sun on the horizon. Had I been on the road all night? When I started driving again, the instinct to turn around and see what kind of place a person like him had asked me to take him to almost overcame my fear. Almost. I finally got home and had a few beers.” \------------------------------------------------------------------------------ *This is a transcript of the last pages of my uncle's diary. One of the versions,at least. I've read a dozen by now, and this seems to be the most complete one yet.* *He rewrote it many times, gradually worsening in grammar and spelling, until it became unrecognizable.* *He hanged himself a few days ago in his room, and this journal was on his desk, along with many pages made of incomprehensible gibberish, dry blood and what look like weird symbols.* *I was never very close to him; the only thing my parents told me was that he had always had problems with alcohol.* *Now, I know that suicide is the result of many problems, and it can never be attributed to a single cause, but this must have impacted in some way.* *I have researched and already posted in some forums discussing addiction and hallucinations caused by various drugs. They told me that this unsettling vision could have been caused by PCP, and even though it seems plausible, I still can't believe it.* *So, I conducted further research, research that eventually led me here, where, from what I understand, you offer advice on unsettling and paranormal situations.* *So, what do you think?*

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17etm0t/the_hitchhiker/

nosleep

sad_Zeno

If You Find a Blocked Off Road in the Woods, Don't Go Down It

It was getting near Halloween and me and me my buddy wanted to scare our girlfriends and/or find a good makeout spot in the woods. We were seniors in high school and all still lived at home so we had to find out of the way spots to smooch. My buddy said he found the perfect place but we needed bolt cutters. My dad had some so that friday night I swiped them from our garage and the four of us set out for Old Hagman's Road. No one lived off of that old dirt road, which ran through the woods connecting two other roads. These roads themselves didn't get much traffic but Old Hagman's Road got none at all because it was blocked off on both ends by fence style gates which were locked with chains and padlocks. Right on the gates were warning signs that read: "Do Not Enter by Order of the Howard County Sheriff's Office." We pulled up to the south entrance and my friend got out and cut the chain with the bolt cutters and opened the gate. I drove the car in past the gate which he shut behind us. He got back in the car and told us all that they closed the road off about twenty years earlier but no one knows why. He said there were rumors that people had died back there and even the cops won't drive down it. The road itself had gotten bumpy over the years with dips and occasional branches lying across its width. My headlights shone up ahead only about forty to fifty feet revealing the autumn colored leaves on branches overhanging the path mixed in with some evergreens. The darkness outside of the cone of light cast from the car was deep and foreboding and the woods were thick and cluttered with vines, bushes, and various brush all casting twisted black shadows onto the trees and litter behind them. The girls held our arms and cuddled closer, mildly intimidated by the spooky setting. At one point on a straight section of the road, I briefly turned off the headlights for a laugh. The girls howled almost in unison for me to turn them back on. Me and my bud chuckled out loud and I promised not to turn them off again. I drove at a steady ten miles per hour only because the bumps were too serious to comfortably handle any faster. I rounded a corner to the left when we all saw two red lights up ahead. They seemed like they were reflecting the headlights of my car rather than being self illuminating. I stopped to get a better look before going on. Was this the eyeshine of some animal? They seemed too far apart for that. I proceeded cautiously. When we got about fifty feet from the lights the body of the thing the lights were attached to faded into view from the thick darkness behind. It was an old car. The rear reflectors were the source of the red lights we saw. It was a dark blue sedan with its paint chipping off, a good bit of rust, and lots of leaves on its trunk and roof. The rear window was covered in dust and as I steered to the left side of the road to go around it, we could see that so were the windows to the doors. But we all noticed that the driver's window was down about halfway. I slowed down a little as I creeped past the abandoned car. Looking over, the interior couldn't be seen through the dust caked windows. As the inside of the driver's seat came into view through its half open window a sense of dread and anticipation swept through us all. The steering wheel was in view when my buddy spoke up to assure everyone not to worry. "They wouldn't close the road without getting everybody out of here first." They were comforting words and of course. He was right. No need to worry. But as the headrest to the driver's seat came into view we all stared at it anyway, transfixed and tight with suspense. The dust on the window prevented us from being able to see through it clearly so all we could make out was a sliver of the interior. At first glance it seemed the seat was empty. But then I noticed just above the top of the partially rolled down window you could see something on the backrest of the seat. It looked like dark hair on the top of someone's head who had slid down in the seat. But it was just an inch or so and it was dark so it could have been something else. One of the girls asked if that was a person. No one answered her because we weren't sure. I had come to a complete stop so we could look at it a little longer and try to figure it out. Out of habit I glanced in my driver's side rear view mirror and noted the dim red glow of my brake lights on the brush to the side of the road and on the dirt. But something was off. I could see a dark bulge to the side of the car. It was protruding outward from the rear bumper. It seemed to be right up against the car but it was too dark to make out any details. Then it moved. There was someone there. Crouching. I looked with more focus to try to make out what it was when the brake lights revealed an opening mouth and the appearance of a set of teeth and long canine fangs. My heart started racing and hands trembling. I started to move forward to get past the car, saying nothing so as not to alarm the others. I kept one foot on the brake to keep the brake lights on as I watched it in the mirror. As I pulled forwards it stood up. It's body was wide and thick. It stood on two legs and was humanoid in its basic structure. It had large hands with thick claws at the end of each finger. It was covered in hair except for its chest which was reminiscent of a gorillas chest. It's head was exactly like the head of a Bison. Only with thick fangs and an angry grimace on its face. It even had horns. It stood there as I drove off. No one else had seen it. With a wavering voice I asked my buddy to have the bolt cutters ready. I said we needed to get out of there fast. He suggested we turn around but I informed him that there wasn't room on the road for that and I wasn't going back that way no matter what. I increased my speed and held it there even though the bumps were making the passengers angry. My buddy could tell something was wrong. He asked me if I saw something else besides the possible man in the car. I replied only to tell him to have the bolt cutters ready and to work as fast as he could when we got to the north gate. Up ahead there was a small opening in the trees to the left and as we passed it a dark figure on all fours ran towards the car from the clearing. It slammed into the drivers side door hard, making a loud boom and pushing the car sideways about a half a foot. The girls screamed. I put the pedal to the floor. I checked the rear view and the thing was on all fours sideways in the road. It looked up towards us and then gave chase. As we sped along the road we passed an old police car off to the right in a ditch. The drivers side door was open and several of it's windows were broken. Around the next bend in the road there was an old station wagon. The windows were all broken on this one and it was positioned sideways across the road almost blocking our way. Inside we could see the decayed remains of a family. Mom and dad in the front seat with skeletal smiles and two teenage kids in the back, both rotted and mummified. The girls were in full freak out mode and my buddy was now holding the bolt cutters up as if to use them as a weapon if need be. I was banging over the bumps and the beast was pounding on the trunk as it tried to catch up. We had the gate in sight when I realized that this wasn't going to work. It would be upon us by the time my buddy could get the chain cut. There were no other side roads and not enough room to turn around. The gate was far too sturdy to bust through with the car. When I stopped it was going to break a window and at least one of us was going to die. There was no way around that now. I had to make a choice. A choice I hope none of you will ever have to make. A choice I have to live with for the rest of my life. Later a man in a black suit would show up at the Sheriff's office and I'd be released. No sign of my having been arrested could be found in the public record. I had to sign a paper preventing me from talking about what happened for the rest of my life or face a ten year prison sentence and a ten thousand dollar fine. My father received a new car as a gift from an anonymous stranger. The parents of the other three passengers who were with me also received anonymous compensation. But even now, years later, I still wake up in a cold sweat at night. I can still hear their screams. I can still see their faces staring at me in horror and disbelief as the beast pulled the girls out of the car, tore them with its claws, and bit into their necks. I can still see the blood on the window of my open driver's side door. I can still see that horn thrusting out of my buddy's chest at the gate as he dropped the bolt cutters and I climbed down the other side to safety. And I still have to admit to myself, that even though I carry a ton of guilt and shame for leaving them to die... I still have to admit that if I got a do-over, I'd do the same thing all over again. And if you saw what I saw, you would too.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17er3zq/if_you_find_a_blocked_off_road_in_the_woods_dont/

nosleep

jarofgoodness

Third Wheel

My ex-girlfriend has an identical twin.  Let's call her Georgia, because that's an annoying name and so it suits her well.  Where my ex - Alex - was practically perfect in every way, Georgia was awkward and strange. Georgia had no friends and no hope for a romantic partner. She was built the same as her sister, who was a total hottie, but was completely unappealing because of her revolting teeth and disheveled look. She looked like she smelled bad.  Alex, a caring sister, often pitied her twin and did as much as she could to help her, which is how Georgia ended up joining Alex and I on our camping trip to the gorge.  It was the summer between high school graduation and first year university for Alex and I; Georgia hadn’t graduated high school. I was surprised and irritated when Georgia sidled into the back seat of my parents' car that morning as I honked the horn to pick up Alex. Alex smiled sweetly as she got into the passenger seat, an eyebrow raised that told me she'd make it up to me in a most pleasant way. Still, I huffed at her while I pulled the car out of the driveway.  Almost right away, Georgia started blathering about the best campsite in the gorge. I had my own spot in mind and we bickered as we drove.  It was Alex who offered a compromise - to take turns and try out both sites. God, I remember how annoying it was to always be competing with Georgia for the lead spot.  Georgia insisted that her site be the first one we visited. I protested but then there was a coin toss that came out of nowhere and in midair I defaulted into accepting tails. I lost.  We drove further west than I had intended to a part of the woods I didn't know and I remember feeling really creeped out.  We parked in the midst of a copse of trees Georgia had pointed out. I didn’t like that either but I let it go. If I complained about everything, I thought, then the serious problems I pointed out with Georgia and her presence on our trip might be overlooked by Alex.  Georgia walked ahead, reminding me a little of Gollum from Lord of the Rings, scurrying excitedly, scraggly hair following, leading us on a route only she knew and understood. I quickly became disoriented and my inner compass went bust.  We stopped for a sandwich lunch on the Black River, where Georgia bent over into a mumbling conversation with herself (also very Gollum-like behaviour).  When we resumed our trek, the heat began to get to me and I wanted to swim in the river before we left its bank. Suddenly, Georgia was zero to a hundred furious.       "We can't stop again. We have to keep going!" She was angry and yelling.  Alex told me to go for my dip, and intervened - taking Georgia aside. I got changed behind a tree but still felt weird about being naked with Georgia nearby. When I emerged from the water, Alex was there with a towel - except it wasn't Alex but Georgia, grinning and making no secret of looking me up and down.        "Creep," I said. "Where's Alex?"         Georgia began to whistle and walked away, backwards, still watching me with that know-it-all smile. Alex appeared a second later; she said she'd gone into the woods to pee.        "Your sister is freaking me out," I told her, and we had our first fight, brief and unresolved before Georgia returned to encourage us to keep going.  I was annoyed that it was possible to mistake Georgia for Alex, as in my mind they were polar opposites on the hot or not scale.  "Keep away from me," I told Georgia. She began to pout like a child and Alex had to comfort her. Clearly, I didn't understand Georgia and the twin relationship.  We resumed the miserable hike once Georgia was reminded we were going to the campsite she chose. The idea got her really excited.  I mouthed a "What the fuck?" at Alex but she ignored me. We arrived at the campsite in question by late afternoon; it wasn't anything special: An empty space with a tree stump and some thick growth around it. Not ideal for camping; I was about to say so when Georgia dove head first into the branches and out of sight.      "Hey!" Alex yelled, sternly, like a parent. Georgia slunk back into sight and Alex made her start setting up camp with us, which included cutting back some of the dead growth for our fire.  Georgia grumbled but obeyed and soon the sun dropped and we were enjoying some drinks with our hotdogs. I was beginning to relax and drifted off while the sisters talked quietly about video games.         I woke up to dying embers in the middle of the night. The assholes hadn't bothered to get me into my tent. I staggered to my feet, fully intending to give Alex hell, but I had to pee so badly that I went into the bushes first.        That's when I saw Georgia slinking away in the direction she'd tried to go before. Fuck that chick, I thought. She looked suspicious, so I thought I’d find out what weird shit she was up to. If it was bad enough, I bet Alex could be convinced to finally tell her gross sister to get lost, and our camping trip could be saved.  I followed and popped out of the brush pretty fast on a narrow trail. I’d let Georgia out of sight on purpose, so I could use my flashlight without her seeing. The trail led to an open chain link gate; it looked like someone, maybe Georgia, had snipped the chain holding the two sides together.  There was a small light up ahead, flashing in and out of sight. I shut my own flashlight off and walked in near darkness to a shack beside the river. Mother fucker had brought us this close to the river but made us camp far away. I snuck up to the doorless shack and saw her inside, crouched over something.  It looked like maybe she was holding her flashlight in her mouth. It was hard to see. I crept a little closer, hiding mostly beside the doorway and peeking.  “You shouldn’t eat those,” a woman's voice said, from inside. I almost pissed right there on the spot. An old woman flicked a lighter to illuminate her face; I couldn’t see much of her.  “Shut up,” Georgia said and went about shoving something into her mouth. “The mushrooms that grow on the dead are poison,” the old woman said. “I said, 'shut the fuck up,'" Georgia shouted, her anger rising. She stood up and shoved the woman with the heel of her foot. She fell back with a thump. Her lighter went out. Georgia laughed. “I know what these are,” she said. “How do you think I know they were in here?” The old woman started to cry. “Don’t hurt me,” she whimpered, which made Georgia laugh again.  “This crop will be gone soon. It takes a while for them to grow. I didn’t expect anyone to be here, which is good news for my girlfriend. And this is way better, anyway. Nobody will miss some homeless old bitch.” Ew, I thought, Georgia thinks of me as her girlfriend. But then another wild, more worrisome possibility arose. She didn’t give me much time to think before she started laughing again.  She shone the flashlight on the woman’s frightened face. “I’m not gonna do anything,” she said after laughing some more. “But I could, couldn’t I?” The old woman scrambled out a window across the room.  The consumption of mushrooms continued. She stretched out on the floor and I guess she was high or something. She didn’t react when I came in and my flashlight beam was shining right in her face.            I looked at the mushrooms she'd been eating. There were a number of them in a bare patch on the floor. Something had died here and decayed the wood until it mixed with soil. The shape looked vaguely human but it could have been any large animal.  The woman that fled was right. These mushrooms aren't like the hallucinating kind; they definitely looked poisonous. Georgia would die if I left her there.   I seriously thought about leaving her there.  But….           I couldn't carry her alone or get her up, so I went back to wake up Alex from our tent. That's when my previous suspicions were confirmed. Alex's sleeping bag was empty, and Georgia was snoring away in hers, scraggly hair, stench mouth and all.  I woke her up and told her where Alex was and what she'd ingested. I couldn’t believe this bitch. I packed up my stuff and left.         I got out of the gorge just fine and ignored Alex's calls and texts when they started blowing up my phone a couple days later. So I guess she didn't die after all from those decayed mushrooms.  She wouldn't answer my demands to know about what the mushrooms had been growing on and I did actually go to the police about it eventually.  They never got back to me on whether or not Alex had murdered something or someone to ingest mushrooms growing from the leftover corpse. And when you write out something like that you can probably guess why.  Alex also denied joking about killing me and that homeless woman and she said I’d heard it wrong. That was enough for me. I told her not to talk to me ever again.  It might have been awkward because we were headed to the same university in the Fall. However, I didn't see her there and am not sure what became of her or Georgia.  Dating an identical twin? I don't recommend it. Unless they can seriously prove they're not weird and evil. Hmm, maybe that's just good advice for anyone you might date. I've seen some of the [other accounts](https://www.youtube.com/@CleriotNoir) about the Gorge you've posted, and mine seems to fit though there's nothing really supernatural involved. But maybe your take will be different? That's why I wrote to you.  My two cents is that the Gorge is as messed up as everything and everyone in [Bridal Veil Lake](https://www.reddit.com/u/APCleriot?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share). I'm glad I got out of there.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17eymey/third_wheel/

nosleep

APCleriot

What was it?

I worked late and was coming out of a Walgreens in the little shopping center in Glendale, Colorado. It was pitch black dark, about 11:15 or so at night. The parking lot had just a few streetlights. As I was walking through the parking lot, I suddenly felt terrified, panicked, and anxious for my safety. I quickly looked around for whatever had me feeling so afraid. I saw nothing to justify my fear. I hurried to my car, opened the door, turned on the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot. As soon as I pulled out into the street and headed to my house, about a half mile away, the feeling stopped. I couldn't figure it out. Why had I suddenly felt so afraid in that parking lot? I replayed it in my mind, walking out of Walgreens, scanning the parking lot, walking a little further, turning left toward my car, then turning right at my car door. I had looked around quickly and carefully, looking for a person who might have me feeling so afraid. But nothing and no one had caught my attention. But, then, the fear ended. And I drove home wondering what had triggered me to feel so afraid. The next night I worked until 10:30 PM and as I walked toward my car again, suddenly feeling the terror and panic again. This time I looked around a little more carefully. Then I saw it! As I got to the edge of the parking lot where you turn to get to the street, about 10 yards to the right, near another store was a man. He was leaning over a trash receptacle, bent at the waist, his feet together, as if he was vomiting. I saw the man, felt a huge rush of terror, jumped into my car, turned the key, and flew out of the parking lot like a wild woman. What was it about that guy that caused me such fear? Why had he triggered me? What was he doing that I could have interpreted as dangerous, threatening, or life-threatening? Well, I was sure it was life-threatening because I immediately feared for my life. But I couldn't put it together. Why? The next night, same situation. Work late, exit Walgreens, terror and panic. This time I turned to my left, before going to my car and went toward the man, looking more closely and carefully. As I walked toward him, I watched him closely. I didn't see any movement. The trash receptacle was in between two large columns so I couldn't see what he was doing behind it. I was 40 or 50 feet away, walking toward him. As I got about 30 feet away from him, I heard a strange sound. It was the sound of breathing. But not normal breathing. It was the sound of struggling, laboring breathing. As I got about 5 feet away, I couldn't take another step. I stopped, frozen, terrified, as this creature of a man raised up. He was very tall, 7 feet tall or more. He slowly straightened his body. He was skinny, with very long arms that came down to his knees. He was wearing black pants. His head was long, his hair was very long and gray, and he looked human. Except he had gray skin, the face of an old human. His eyes were large, like human eyes, but very, very pale and he seemed to be blind. As he raised up, he had blood running out of his mouth. He was licking it off his lips, and it was dripping all over him. I couldn't move. I just stood there, looking up at him, 3 feet away. He stood perfectly still, not looking at me. Just licking the blood off his lips. Then he smiled. There was blood all over his mouth and teeth, and as he smiled, he looked terrifying. It's a strange sensation to have terror coursing through your body, unable to move, yet frozen, watching a horror movie right in front of you. He never said a word. I was frozen in fear. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, I could move. I turned around and ran to my car. Got in and raced out of the parking lot, heading toward my house. Now what happened with this experience? Did I imagine it? Was it an illusion, or was I seeing something that was real? I've wondered these things over the years. The answer is simple. What I experienced was real. It happened. But, was the creature real? What kind of creature was it? I don't have an answer. I can tell you what I saw and felt, but not what the man, the creature, the beast, or whatever he was, actually was. So, what can I tell you about the encounter? The feeling of terror was very real. It was a physical sensation of my entire body being afraid. The feeling of being physically threatened was very real. That's what made me afraid for my life. The visual component, seeing a very tall, skinny being, covered in blood, licking his lips, standing perfectly still 3 feet away, was real. It may not have been human. It may have been something from another dimension or another realm. I can't tell you what it was. I can tell you that it happened, and it was real.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17evpnj/what_was_it/

nosleep

spookypiranhas

Never Steal From a Mannequin

I am writing this as an attempt to reconcile the insane events that took place over the last 48 hours and to help ensure that I am indeed still within my right mind and have not completely lost my grip on reality. My name is Anthony and at the very least it still feels like I am still alive. I survived what could be described as an attack, though most who I tell this tale to will never believe me, for the thing that attacked me, assuming I am even remembering it correctly was not a person or an animal but an inanimate object and it nearly killed me. It sounds crazy but I know it was real, it had to have been, how else did I get these injuries and this coat? I will try my best to summarize the events as I can still remember them since I blacked out during portions of the last few nights and cannot recall with full certainty, all of the events that might have happened. It was winter and during the height of the holiday shopping season and I was at my local mall browsing around for whatever caught my interest. I was just kind of wandering from store to store, it was fairly late and the mall was getting ready to close and many stores were already preparing to shut their doors. I remember seeing an odd-looking store I had not seen before. A large sign above in Gothic style font indicated that this was “The Proud Tailor” and it caught my attention so I decided to see what was in there. I remember walking in and seeing it was predominantly a clothes store. It was a strange little shop with a lot of unique almost old Victorian-style clothing and other accessories that would seem more at home a century earlier. I wondered if people shopped here for costumes or actually wore these antique-style clothes, I was unable to get an idea of the genuine intent since I seemed to be the only person still in the store. Besides the clothes, there were also old accessories and other items like canes, umbrellas, and in one case even an old cavalry saber on the wall. I found it strange they seemed to sell all these antique relics and old clothes in a generic mall next to standard outlet stores and other chain clothes stores, but I thought maybe there was some new market for Victorian-style clothes making a comeback and continued on further into the store. The back of the store had something that arrested my interest even further. It was a row of very odd-looking mannequins. I always found mannequins sort of uncanny, so many depictions of them in horror stories coming to life made me uneasy around normal ones, and these particular specimens seemed to be repellent and off-putting enough to be even worse. Something about how they were designed, the poses and expressions seemed almost life-like, and even more disturbingly they wore what appeared to be pained expressions like they suffered some anguish in silence, rather than the normal expressionless faces others tended to be molded after. The clothes they wore were of apparently very high quality and they did indeed look very impressive. As I was staring and half- gawking at a creepy mannequin with the worst look on its face wearing an impressive large fur-lined overcoat, I felt the strange compulsion to reach out and touch the coat. I was startled out of my trance and embarrassingly I let out a cry of surprise and checked myself when I realized I had been approached by a member of the staff. A young-looking woman had reached out her own hand and had intercepted mine blocking it and indicating to a sign by the mannequins that read that “Mannequins and their display clothes must not be touched!” Apparently, these particular specimens must not be touched at any time. The store worker indicated these were very valuable antiques and were oddly not for sale despite the normal intention of mannequins functioning as a way to help sell the clothes they are meant to show off. The store worker offered an apology and asked if I needed help finding anything. I said I was ok, but my curiosity got the best of me and I asked her why they had them at all, if the clothes they wore were not for sale. She paused briefly as if considering her answer carefully and said something sort of strange, she said “We just don’t like to be touched” She paused awkwardly and corrected herself “They I mean they don’t like to be touched, just admired, the clothes they wear and very rare and valuable and are more for decoration, please respect our rules and do not touch or we will have to ask you to leave”. She kept saying we when it seemed like she was the only person here that was working, the way she stared at me when talking was kind of creeping me out and I noticed that in a minute or so I had been talking to her I did not notice her blink a single time. I was taken aback and was kind of stammering for a response when she interrupted me and said “Oh look at the time we will be closing up soon, please let me know if there’s anything we or rather I can help you with, but do hurry, thank you” She smiled and turned around rearranging and fussing over a rack of dusty dresses. I politely acknowledged and thanked her for letting me know as she walked away; though I am not sure if she heard me or almost seemed to be ignoring me now. I was about to turn around and walk out of the store, but I looked at the back wall and regarded the creepy mannequins one last time. Then as I turned to leave, I heard the strangest thing that stopped me from departing. I heard what sounded like someone saying my name, it sounded like someone was calling me from the backroom of the store near where the line of mannequins was. I thought maybe someone else might have my same name on the staff, but no other staff seemed to be here. I looked back towards the front of the store near the exit and then at the row of dresses I had seen the store employee, but she was nowhere to be seen. I almost wrote it off and chalked it up to paranoia due to the creepy vibes this place was giving me. I turned once more to leave but then I heard it again, louder than before. Against my better judgment I slowly approached the back door again and this time I leaned in trying to hear if my name was spoken again. I crept in so close to the door that I accidently pressed against it when I stumbled over a cord on the floor I hadn’t seen and the door gave way and opened with a creak into the backroom. I caught myself before falling on my face but I had stumbled fully into the backroom and as I stood up and tried to regain my balance and composure I was assailed by a strong mixture of something rotting and a rank mildew-like smell. I was surprised I hadn’t been able to smell it in the store with how strong it was. I instinctively covered my mouth with my hand and held back nausea at the pungent smell. I suppressed a shiver that I first attributed to the deathly smell but then felt around me in the air and realized they must have an air conditioner cranked on back here because it felt freezing a full 20 or 30 degrees cooler than the main store. It was dark as well I could scarcely see anything beyond what the light of the main store carried into the entryway of the back room. I wanted to leave there and then with how disturbing the backroom seemed to be but just as a last check and to give in to some voice in the back of my mind I called faintly into the room, quietly stammering and then eventually committing to it and letting out a wavering “Hello?” I held my breath both in fearful anticipation and as a means to keep from breathing in more of the reeking miasma. I exhaled after a long pause and turned around to leave then I heard a slamming sound as if heavy iron bars crashing to the ground and whipped around to see what had happened. I walked out toward the front and saw that an abnormally heavy iron gate had fallen down over the entrance and only apparent exit as if they had started to close already. I spoke up and shouted “Hold on I am still in here, hello? Anyone I am still here you locked me in” I searched frantically for the young woman who worked here but I could not find her, I walked back again to the disturbing back room and thought maybe she had gone back there without me seeing her somehow, the back wall of mannequins had caught the corner of my eye and I thought I counted one too many compared to how many where there. I cried again apparently in vain to anyone who might be here to listen that I was stuck in here and they needed to open the gate when I heard a voice from the back screaming “Save us!” I ran back to see who was calling for help and as I stumbled into the darkness of the back room shouting out to see where the voices had come from I felt my legs wrenched out from under me and I was thrown a good 5 or 6 feet away from the door and slammed hard into the wall landing bad on my head and that was the first time that night I had blacked out. I woke up with a gasp for air that was immediately greeted with an intake of rank Icey air. I realized I was still in the backroom it was almost completely pitch black where I fell and I rose shakily to my feet clutching my head, my vision still blurry, and worried I might have a concussion. I did not know what the hell happened, I remember hearing cries for help and running in only to be launched and slammed into what is apparently an old ornate curio cabinet that was built surprisingly solidly, since there was no damage on it despite the damage it had inflicted on me crashing into it. My mind was racing now as lucidity ebbed back into my scattered and hopefully not damaged mind. I remembered the gate and the cries for help and knew that I must be locked in still, I didn’t know how long it had been and I looked at my phone and saw it was 1:45 am. Definitely still closed I thought. My phone was close to dead but it was the only light source I had back here so I turned on the flashlight and hoped it would at least get me out of here to the front where hopefully even closed, the store would have some small lights remaining on. It was deathly silent in the store, no more voices no buzzing lights no sounds at all, I stumbled my way back out to the main floor and was happy to see that some dim lights did remain on in the store, I switched off my flashlight to save power and immediately tried to see if there was an area in the store where I could get reception on my phone to call for help, since upon checking the time I noticed I did not have a single bar previously. To my dismay, there was not a single spot that had any reception, so I gave up and headed for the entryway and the heavy gate. I thought maybe a night security guard might be in the mall and I figured maybe if I made enough noise I could attract their attention and they could get me out. I grasped the bars and was disappointed it was not one of the lighter shutters that I could shake to make more noise, as it was they were shockingly sturdy and did not move at all when shaken. So I decided to strike the bars with my hands to hope that it would ring out but the sound was fairly dull and muffled. I kicked at them with similar results, no good I would need something sturdier or louder. I shouted for help to anyone who could hear but the darkness beyond the gate seemed to swallow the sound. I looked around to see if there was something that would make more noise on it and that’s when I remembered the old saber on the wall. I began walking again toward the back wall when I felt a gust of chill air that made the hairs on my neck stand up, it was getting very cold in the main store all the sudden. I thought maybe they just shut off the heat and since it was winter it would naturally get cold at night, but the onset when it had been warm before was a rather strange contrast. I reached the back wall and the air around the backroom was positively frigid, there was no way this was ambient temperature it had to be some sort of AC that was running, it was too cold. I saw the saber on the wall and as I approached it and began to reach up to try and remove it from the wall I caught a sight of something in the corner of my eye that almost made me lose an involuntary scream of surprise. All the mannequins on the back wall close to the saber were looking at me, not just in my direction but their heads were actually tilted at a specific angle to be looking directly at me where I was trying to take the sword from the wall. The pained expressions were gone and they all appeared to have stony serious looks now. The change freaked me out and I thought someone was here with me playing a cruel trick or something. I was emboldened by my frustration at the thought and mostly to not give in to the mounting fear the situation had caused I called out “Is someone there? Please if this is a trick it’s not funny you are holding me here against my will and that is a crime, if you let me out now I won’t press charges but I mean it stop with the gag and let me go” Silence was all that responded. Suppressing my feeling of dread I remembered what I was doing before and reached up and with not some minor amount of difficulty removed the sword from the wall it pulled off with a crash as the whole mounting plaque came off as well and I stumbled again to the ground. I had pulled too hard and landed on my shoulder this time. It was painful but better than landing on my head and passing out again. I took removed the hooks attaching it to the mounting plaque and felt a renewed sense of confidence holding a weapon now. I didn’t think I would actually use it as stabbing someone playing a prank was overkill but maybe it could leverage some intimidation if someone was not taking my pleas for release seriously enough. At least I could use it to make more noise as planned. So I returned to the gate and began striking the sides of the saber on the metal bars and hearing a satisfyingly loud metallic clanging reverberating and echoing for yards in all directions from the gate. Someone has got to hear this I thought. After striking at the bars for over half an hour I began to lose hope, how could no one be hearing this, what was security doing? As I stopped swinging the sword and paused I once again felt the creeping chill, how had it gotten so cold? It is freezing near the gate as well now. As I was considering what to do next I heard a rattling and clicking sound coming from the back room and then another gust of freezing air struck me. Over the next few minutes of sitting there shivering, I started to worry I might get hypothermia. It kept getting colder somehow and felt colder in here than it ever did outside at night in winter. I looked around for something to cover myself in I was only wearing jeans and a t-shirt and left my coat in my car, since I had suspected I might buy a new one today. I kept searching around and only found dusty old dresses made of thin materials almost falling apart, for some reason now at night they looked much older and worse than they had before. I was starting to get worried again and I had a desperate idea come to mind, I remembered the large overcoat the central mannequin was wearing and considered that it might be the only thing that fits me and is warm enough to combat this bizarre chill. I didn’t like the idea but I would rather not freeze to death, so I had to find something. I approached the wall of mannequins again cautiously walking up and not breaking eye contact; they still appeared to be staring where the saber was on the wall so that was good I thought. I paused for a moment when looking at the ugly thing, it looked worse in the dim light than before, its face still a distorted rictus while it looked to have seams at all the angled joints that were fraying and displaying what appeared to be strange metal gears underneath and something on top that looked disturbingly like a type on synthetic skin instead of the standard plaster or plastic they were traditionally made out of. I suppressed a shudder of both anxiety as I eyed the weird sign again and recalled what the woman had said and of the lowering temperature. I pushed past it and reached out to grab the collar of the coat and slipped it off the arms of the creepy mannequin trying to do it with as little contact as possible with the disturbing thing. I managed to slip the coat off of the mannequin with no issue stepped down off off the step and quickly put the fine coat on. It was a very fine quality a little musty but very nice and it was warm thank God, very warm, in fact, it felt like it was not just the material keeping the cold out but it felt warm like an actual warm-blooded person had been wearing it. As my mind raced and my skin started to crawl I looked back up and fell back onto the floor, staring up at the face now looking down directly at me. The mannequin’s former serious face had changed into a grimace of anger and its eyes were staring down directly at me. “What the fuck?!” I gasped as I instinctively crawled back a few more feet from the hideous thing. My heart was racing and I stood up and clutched the sword I had dropped until my knuckles turned white. “Hey, who the hell is doing this?” I screamed “It’s not funny, I don’t want to hurt you but I am getting freaked out, so congratulations you got me, now kindly cut this shit out and come out where I can see you.” I shouted my frustration giving vent to a stronger and emboldened voice free of some of the fear from the previous moment. Another long pause and nothing happened. I continued “Alright if that’s how it’s going to be, then you asked for it” I held fast to the saber and reached it out to put the blade at the mannequin's face. “One last chance to show yourself or the fancy, creepy ass mannequins are getting cut to pieces, starting with this one, and the fancy clothes for good measure if someone does not get out here and let me out”. Still no response, I looked around trying to focus and see if I heard anything or saw any subtle movement around the store. As I looked back the other mannequin heads were staring at me now with looks of what could best be described as fear on their faces. “Alright enough of this shit” I shouted one final time and reached back my arm and swung the saber in a long arc right across the mannequin's face and neck where a fine cravat was covering a portion of its disturbing human-like neck. I was not prepared for what happened next. An anguished cry of pain and a deep cutting sound of skin being sliced were immediately followed by a jet of blackish blood spurting from the now open neck wound on the terrifying mannequin. “Oh my God” I thought to myself was someone in that one? Is that a person, did I just kill someone!?” I backed away from the macabre scene the blood pooling on the floor near the mannequin and as I backed away I saw it fall down onto the floor in a crash, limbs contorting in morbid tangle of which I thought due to the static nature of mannequin poses should be impossible. “Holy shit, holy shit I killed someone” I kept repeating over and over in my head. In retrospect, it may have been better if I had, for I was truly not prepared for what happened next. I backed away until I was almost to the front again, not taking eyes off the horrifying spectacle, when the back door flung open, and standing there in the dim light was a slender figure wearing what appeared to be a mannequin head-like mask, with many long nails and thread seams protruding out of its skin. It carried a hacksaw and some sort of odd scissors or shears and was caked in that same disturbing blackish fluid which may or may not be old blood. It walked forward with an otherworldly, alien motion and stopped and stuttered as it tried to move, jerking all the while like some nightmare marionette puppet. I was speechless and stunned by the absolute nightmare image of the scene. The thing got closer and turned its head to regard me and then looked down at the sight of the now apparently slain, mannequin? Puppet? Person? Still bleeding on the ground in front of me. There was a terrible moment of protracted silence as I held my breath not knowing what to do when the monster spoke. “Thief, Murderer!” The thing shouted in a grating and hissing whisper and it began to lurch forward after me its arms upraised with its tools and its bizarre half-static facial expression shifting to one of pure malice. My fight or flight kicked me out of my dazed horror as the imminent threat was staring me in the face, whoever this psycho was; they had upped the game from creepy pranks to attempted murder. Despite the weapon I held I panicked and ran to the front gate vainly shouting and striking the sword on the bars screaming for help. The thing kept on, lumbering toward me its arm holding the hacksaw razed over its head and its murderous gaze never leaving me. When I realized again no help was coming I gripped the sword with renewed vigor and turned to face the nightmare person or thing that was attacking me. I faced it again just in time to see it had moved with disturbing speed and was leveling a blow at my head. I had just enough time to raise the blade on instinct and almost accidentally parry the blade with my own. The thing hissed and lunged forward trying to stab me with the wicked scissors it held. I tried to back away but the gate was to my back and I stumbled awkwardly into it and couldn’t fully disengage myself due to the locked saber and hacksaw blades and I felt the terrible stabbing pain bellow as I saw the scissors sinking into my side. I screamed in pain and pulled back, very stupidly twisting to try and fall away to the side and I had successfully moved to the side and away but made the puncture wound even worse as I almost passed out due to the unbelievable pain. Only adrenaline and fear kept me conscious. I gasped and fell back away from the oncoming thing. It paused awkwardly when it could have moved in and delivered a killing blow. “Can't let you go now, can't let you go now, can't” It began mumbling “No don’t want to kill it leave us alone!” the thing seemed to be arguing with itself or some imperceptible other entity I could not see. I cautiously backed up and used the bizarre reprieve of the thing arguing with itself to crouch down and fall behind some rows of clothes in an effort to hide. I heard the mumbling get louder and then it was punctuated by a tortured shriek and frantic footsteps back in my direction. I held my breath and gripped the saber with one hand and my bleeding side with the other to stem the flow. I had to think fast but before I could decide on a course of action another horrifying thing caught my attention. The back row of mannequins had begun to scream! And as they screamed they slowly and methodically began to outstretch their arms, a metallic screech like grinding gears on rusty hinges let out as they did so and, eventually they were somehow pointing their fingers directly at me and where I was hiding. In another moment a saw blade came slamming down next to where I was hiding and I heard the monster thing its gears grinding its ligaments straining and tearing to move faster in its murderous pursuit of me. I screamed but managed to rise to my feet in time to avoid another stab directed at my heart. I knew I couldn’t escape so I had one last chance. Summoning what little remained of my nerve and knowing if I didn’t fight back I would die to whatever this thing was, I held the saber out in a blocking posture as I rose fully to my feet and frantically looked around to see if something could be turned to my advantage. The thing swung again for my head with its saw and I was ready I backed away and sidestepped it while catching the back of the hacksaw and redirecting it into a nearby fixture that caught the blade and momentarily trapped it. The thing tried to capitalize and attempted another lunging stab but I was ready I shifted hard to the side and brought my own sword arm down onto the wrist and handle of the scissors and cut the monstrous forms hand clean off. Emboldened by a surge of adrenaline and not wanting to miss the opportunity I had created I leaped forward almost stumbling, but catching myself by grabbing the creature's other arm and leading in with the tip of the sword stabbing it into and fully through the monster's chest, impaling it and sticking it into the ground by a full several inches of sword now sticking into the ground beneath it. Breathing hard I stood up, my own leaking blood now mingling on the floor with the horrible creature's bleeding chest and severed hand. It was indeed pinned and struggled uselessly but did in fact seem to be slowing down and hopefully dying I thought to myself. It began a raspy wheeze and I thought I heard it mumble “Please” Against my own better judgment I bent down and heard it trying to speak, my own morbid curiosity got the better of me and I felt a strange compulsion that I acted on almost unconsciously. I reached out and began pulling the disturbing mannequin mask/head off of the thing. There was a nausea-inducing peeling sound and a disgusting smell pervaded the air as I pulled but eventually it came free and I cast the awful mask aside once removed. I don’t know what I was expecting but the fantastical expectation did not match the reality I beheld. What I saw in fact was the face of the store clerk I had met earlier. Her face was covered in blood but it was definitely her. The reality of the situation I saw horrified me again and the gravity of the situation kicked in and I realized I had likely killed another person tonight. “Oh my God lady why?” I began to shout “What the fuck lady what did you come after me what the hell were you doing, why did you do all this!?” I was shouting and almost crying I can’t believe this had all happened as I was pacing and bleeding and freaking out I heard her begin to mumble something. It was shaky and sounded different than before, she spoke softly, almost inaudibly and I had to bend down to hear her. “Thank” She started and coughed up a spurt of blood “Thank you, I can finally be free. You need” She tried to finish and then her eyes bulged and she began in a panicked tone “You need to leave now! The key, the key in the back r-----“ she was unable to finish and she died eyes wide mouth agape, not looking at me but past me to something behind. I turned around and heard a nightmare clattering and clanking and twisting and shambling of many disjointed limbs shuffling toward me and saw that all of the remaining mannequins had gotten off the wall stands and were moving toward me in a nightmare procession of gangly limbs and grasping hands, all the faces now had shifted to wide full grins, with blazing eyes hungry with intent and the effect was so terrifying I nearly went mad. Then the horde of bodies spoke in a stuttering buzzing sound that began quietly and got louder as they moved in closer and closer. “Join……Ussss” “Joinnnn…..Usssss” My momentary sanity regained from before when I thought my danger was a human source, had fully snapped now. I remember pausing briefly and rubbing my eyes as if to check that I was truly seeing what I was seeing and even now I doubt I truly did. Then my stupor broke and I screamed and turned and ran as fast as I could, my tired body struggling to respond and still losing blood fast. I willed myself faster than I ever moved before and rushed into the back room and slammed the door closed and grouped around for the cabinet I slammed into before and pushed it slowly and painfully into the door blocking it and praying the things would not be strong enough to dislodge it. There was a brief quiet and then the door and cabinet began heaving as a crashing pounding sound resounded outside. I knew I didn’t have much time so I brought my cell phone back out and turned on the flashlight, it struggled to cut through the gloom but I had to look fast. I went further into the backroom than before and the awful smell intensified until I saw what looked like another door leading to some sort of office or vestibule. I pushed on and almost wretched at the foul smell that seeped out when I threw the door open and then I saw it. Human skin, viscera, and other body parts splayed out on tables and shelves, along with fine gears sewing thread, and plaster mold of arms faces, legs, and torsos. Savage rusty tools of the surgical variety and also of the blacksmith and tailor lay around the canopy of human and mechanical detritus. Blood and a strange oily black substance stained the walls, tables and in some cases even the low ceiling in the place. The horror and revulsion of the site almost made me pass out again, there were bodies in various states of transfiguration, as if this place had to be some sort of hellish flesh tailor that was creating these abominations. The same creatures that were even now trying to break the door in the other room down and likely do the same to me. I frantically looked around the nightmare operating room and saw the glint of something that I hoped might be the key to the gate. It was on a small corkboard near where a gruesome sight lay splayed out on the table nearest to it. The table had what appeared to have a head lying on it, with closer inspection I saw it had a human spinal column protruding out of a blank expressionless mannequin head. I suppressed a shudder and moved faster as the bashing of the backroom door intensified. I reached past the table and up on the wall and did indeed find a strange-looking ornate key which I hoped to God was the key to the gate out of here. But then I felt a horrible realization. I had the key but how would I get back to the front of the store when those things were out there attacking it from that side and trying to get in here? I would have to go through them to get out, I thought hopelessly. Then I heard a thunderous crash and knew they had toppled the large cabinet, then a splintering sound followed and I knew the door was breeched. I panicked, there was no way out I thought. I heard the droning voices again and the shambling clattering sound of metal and bone and sinew grinding together in a nightmare parody of human movement and sound. In my blind desperation, I shut the inner door but nothing was available to barricade it. I knew I was going to die, but then I saw something and almost laughed in my panicked hysteria, something I wished I had seen before. What I saw was a small red handle that indeed upon closer inspection appeared to be a fire alarm. I remember laughing to myself madly even as the things threw themselves at the inner office door. I reached out and grasped the handle just as they began breaking the door apart and the shrill fire alarm blared into life peeling its thunderous warning. “Someone had to come now” I said out loud to myself and looking down at the deep red stain of blood on my undershirt. I took one step to try and move and I fell forward on my face, my comfortable new coat falling around me like a blanket as I passed out of consciousness again. I woke up about 12 hours later in the hospital and I was told I was raving and screaming about mannequins and lashing out to the point I had to be sedated while my stab wound was treated. Apparently, I had been found by a mall security guard in the morning, on the ground near the technical corridors leading to the store's back rooms. The man was shocked I had not bled to death with how bad my wound was but he called an ambulance and I made it to the ER where I was stabilized. When I did regain consciousness I was questioned by the police about what actually happened and I told them the more believable portion of the story. I told them about the women the worker at “The Proud Tailor” and how she had stabbed me and I was forced to defend myself and then I blacked out after losing too much blood and had pulled the fire alarm just before to try and get help since I was stuck in the store. The two officers looked confused and traded a few words with each other in a whisper and then asked again if I was sure that was what had happened. I was worried they might think I had murdered someone or that I was lying, but that was not what they took issue with. The sergeant in charge of this investigation was puzzled because as he said “There is no store called the Proud Tailor in the mall you were been found in” He continued saying “There does not appear to be any record of any business licensed under that name in this state” I was reeling and I stammered out “That can’t, that can’t be true, I know that’s where I was, I was stuck there all night!” I almost started screaming about the mannequins the body parts the possible mass murderer who operated that shop but checked myself and felt that they already probably thought I was some drug addict or madman who they found covered in blood alone in the mall after doing God knows what. I thought if I continued on about this I might be arrested, so I fell back into my bed and told them I felt like I was going to throw up. They left after taking my statement but I knew they would likely be contacting me again. I would have to stay here for a few days recovering but I asked for a small journal so I could write down some of what I remembered, but in truth to help examine some of my confused thoughts and record this message I am writing now. I feel like it’s the only safe to write down the full record of what happened and as I write I began wondering if it was all just a terrible dream, but when I asked for my cell phone and personal effects I was told my phone and wallet were missing all that I was found with was the clothes on my back, which apparently also included a long elaborate overcoat with fur trim. My stomach dropped when I saw the coat and I thought I might pass out again. I knew then, that I hadn’t been dreaming. As the reality of the situation struck me like another blow to the head, I had an idea. I looked down at the collar on the coat to see if maybe there was some store name on the tag to indicate the real existence of this phantom store I had been trapped. I thought maybe then with the tag as proof it existed, someone might believe my story. Instead, I saw a message that will haunt me forever, one which will ensure I never sleep soundly again, even if I were to burn that coat and never go outside again. The tag had no store name, no price point or barcode, hell no washing instructions. No all it had was a small message written crudely in black ink or was it something else? All that was written on it was simply the phrase “We will see you soon”

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17f0grc/never_steal_from_a_mannequin/

nosleep

BadandyTheRed

About 1,030 people die from confined spaces every year. I’ve found a tunnel that’s been hunting and eating them.

The tunnel stood open, carved into the earth dipping below street and city. It ran nearly the length of a mile and was straight as an arrow, straight enough you could see the embers of light from one side to the other, light like a single little firefly, small, but distinct. A man came up to me as I pondered the scene. He shouted, and I stepped back. “Do you have clearance to be here?” I raised my arms by instinct and made a ‘woah’ noise, slightly annoyed. I found my I.D and showed it to him. “Clearance? I’m damn well in charge of this place.” He mumbled something of an apology. I watched the scene; trucks closed off the path into the tunnel, and men with military gear aimed rifles and large looking devices at the mouth of the tunnel. “I need to know details- now.” Let me explain who and what I do before I continue. I work for the Department of Energy. No doubt by now you’ve seen the countless theories about our department- we’re harboring aliens, secret climate change weapons, all that buzz. Let me assure you we do none of the sort. We hunt monsters. We find and neutralize the strange. My job: assist local enforcement with Department forces and neutralize whatever the hell is killing people now. “You would know, Penn-” that was name, “if you actually read the files I sent you.” My assistant. “Ah, Cynthia,” I greeted, “you know I don’t hold much value to those things.” It was true- the little reports we got were nothing compared to what was spoken to on the ground. There was a certain level of censoring and deviation I did not like. So I turned back to the burly looking guy and asked. “I know that-” I eyed the tunnel. Bad vibes. “I know that five people have vanished in there. I need to know more.” He shook his head. “Gavin.” he extended a hand, which I shook. “Your information’s wrong- our count is eight.” I noted the patch- he too, was Department of Energy. “Are all these men our people?” he nodded. I walked over to the row of men and rifles just mere inches from the mouth of the tunnel. “Good work. Now- I need to know everything.” He handed me a file. Inside were photographs and documents. “Two weeks ago the Landon family went missing. Mom, dad, two boys.” I inspected the photograph. “A friend of the family noticed they weren’t answering any calls and reported them to the authorities.” My assistant, Cynthia, spoke next. “Then the officer went missing, right?” Gavin shook his head. “Your files are wrong- I’ve spent the past day getting this all cleared up.” I sighed and made an ‘I-told-you-so’ look towards my assistant. “Before Officer Leeds vanished, one Darcy Mags went through and disappeared.” Cynthia shook her head. “I don’t have her on my file.” “That’s because we missed her,” Gavin explained. “Apparently she's the type to disappear for a time and not tell anyone. We became aware of her when some friends at the factory she worked at reported her missing.” he paused and waved for some of his people to come. “Well uh, and this.” A rather smart looking person came by with a laptop. They held out a hand, and like before, I shook it. “I’m Kaz- specialist.” “Kaz, show Penn here the recording,” Gavin told. Behind us, I heard a series of loud noises emanate from the tunnel. Hoots, like an owl of some sort but more mammalian, like some sort of ape. “The Darcy recording.” Kaz set the laptop down and nodded, clicking through files. “This call, uh, flagged our system. The System was able to isolate a noise from a suspected supernatural entity we’ve sighted before.” “And they say we shouldn’t record telephone calls,” Gavin joked. “A necessary evil.” Kaz pressed play. Recording of Darcy Mags to a friend. Identity kept anonymous for archival purposes. \> - DM (Darcy Mags): Pleasepickup pleasepick up- F (Friend- identity unknown): I’m here. What’s up? DM: The tunnel isn’t ending! I’ve been driving for an hour and I swear there’s- F: Which tunnel? DM: I don’t know? Do you think I pay attention to that- (screech) what was that? F: What was what? DM: The car just stopped. I- I think there’s something ahead of me- I’m turning on the lights I’m- (scream). F: What? What is it? DM: Oh god. There’s a car in front of me. They’re all dead- just dead. A whole family- (thudding, screaming). F: Hello? Darce? “That screech,” Kaz selected another file, and the noise played. It was similar indeed to the sound we had just heard coming from the cave. But this was more isolated- if this was a single animal, then- Cynthia realized this before me. “There’s multiple creatures,” she murmured. “That much we’ve gathered,” Gavin spoke. “You’re the specialist, Penn. What do we suppose we do.” I weighed my options carefully. “Kaz- you said we’ve heard this creature’s call before. Where?” Kaz pulled up a database. “Ireland, 2014. Three teenagers go missing exploring a cave. A volunteer manhunt ensued- they entered the cave and select groups reported tunnels being ‘longer than they should have been’. After few weeks the cave eventually returned to its normal state.” So it had some power over either perception, or reality. And by how it had stopped Darcy’s car- I was going to go with perception. “We’re going to brick up the tunnel. Cover it up with a rebuild effort or something-” “Er,” Gavin began, “we can’t do that?” I asked him why. “Senator Carlisle’s daughter is in there. And,” he put his hands up to his face in tired annoyance, “the senator is threatening to defund the department if we don’t get her back.” “Damn!” I snapped. “Then I want one team in there- armed to the teeth.” I eyed some gear. “I want them holding a rope. I want drones in there- is that clear?” Gavin and Kaz nodded. They set about their mission. Five men stood at the mouth of the tunnel, more weapons than I could count. A priest was there, praying over them, and so was a monk, and a strange looking woman with the symbol of a crab. I had a feeling I was not going to like this. Recording of expedition #1. Names altered for archival purposes. \> - Bluejay One (B1): This is Bluejay One reporting in. We’re about to enter the tunnel. B2: Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this? B3: Ah mate, don’t think too much about it. We’ve survived worse. (background chatter) B1: This is Bluejay One and we have crossed over and into the tunnel. We are holding the rope as we descend and- Kaz (KC): That doesn’t make sense. B1: What doesn’t? KC: The rope’s gone slack from our end. B1: That’s impossible. Wait. (pause) I uh, I can’t see the entrance. B4: I really don’t like this. (screech, distant) B5: Is now a bad time to tell you I don’t like dark places? B2: You’re joking, ri- At this point in time the radio cuts out. “Damn it!” Kaz swore. “I’ve lost them. No idea if they’re getting out of that or not.” I began to pace around, thinking hard, thinking fast. “You sure bricking this place up isn’t an option?” Gavin shook his head. “We need to call in a specialist.” Kaz half laughed at that. “I thought you were a specialist.” I shook my head. I was more of a controls guy. A research man. “We need an Attager.” Cynthia gave me a grim look. “You know how the director feels about Attagers.” I gave her a hard look. “Cynthia,” I began, “I don’t give a damn what the director thinks. Right now I need someone who’s family has been hunting these things for generations.” “I’ll have to submit a request form-” I sighed. “No request form. I don’t even know if the senator’s daughter is alive in there or not- but we don’t have time for a request form. Get me an Attager.” Cynthia nodded and flicked open her phone. “One more thing- make sure it’s anyone but Harlan.” Cynthia spoke quickly, then back at me. “Ivy Attager?” “Acceptable.” I spoke to Gavin next. “Do you know how to prepare a glassway?” he nodded, and walked briskly to do so. A moment later I found myself in front of the glass. It seemed to bend, and a moment later a young woman emerged from it. “Ivy Attager,” she introduced. “You called?” “No time for pleasantries,” I informed. “We’ve got a monster to hunt.” I briefed her on the events that had passed, then showed her the two recordings. I asked her if the entity we were hunting was something her family of monster hunters had encountered before. “I believe so,” she answered. We were at the mouth of the cave, weapons ready. Me, Gavin, Cynthia, and three men. Ivy flipped through a book of sorts. “It’s called an Intenscum. And if your senator’s daughter is in there I’ll be betting on dead.” We crossed the threshold and entered the territory of the tunnel. “Why?” asked Cynthia. She remained quiet, a finger onto her lips. The Attager family had hunted monsters for thousands of years- and why exactly the government preferred for our department to do so instead always puzzled me. I suppose it’s about control, in some sort of strange way. I looked back five minutes into the journey and I saw that the entrance was gone. The monster hunter stopped us. “Smell that?” she asked. I shook my head. “Human intestine. Confirms my suspicions.” Gavin, uneasy, spoke next. “Suspicions?” She knelt and seemed to listen to the ground in some sort of way. Then, quickly, she stood and rushed over to- “It’s him!” I shouted. “Bluejay One!” The commander of the five man force was there, eyes open, mouth gaping wide. His abdomen was cut open, intestines exposed to the air. “Step back!” I did so, following her orders. She lifted a shotgun and fired at his exposed stomach. “Look.” And there, spilling out were these round, glossy eggs. She crushed them underneath her boot. “These creatures reproduce by laying their eggs inside the intestines of their victims.” “Fascinating,” I murmured, disgusted. We came across the rest of the men, all dead. Only one other had eggs implanted within them, and we crushed them. A noise came soon after, the sound of the creature we were hunting. Ivy tossed away her shotgun. “Do the same- you won’t need them for this.” “Are you insane?” Gavin questioned. “Flashlights,” she commanded. “Have you noticed how these things haven’t stepped out? Light kills them. Oh- and bullets won’t pierce their hide.” I held my flashlight in both hands. I heard another screech in the darkness. More bodies and three cars came soon after, the dead bodies of the family, Darcy, and a couple of homeless men. And then the senator’s daughter. She was halfway in her car, halfway out. Dead, too, like the others. “Damn!” I swore. “We are definitely getting defunded.” Ivy flipped her over, and aimed the light directly at her exposed guts. Smoke filled the air, and then a crackling. Whatever was inside was dead. A scream- I turned and I saw three yellow eyes and a winged, thin creature on the backs of one of the three soldiers who had accompanied us. I, paralyzed, watched as they fought- until the creature- with one quick swipe of it’s claws disemboweled him. The blood hit me, and suddenly I found myself in control again. I raised my flashlight at the bat-like creature. It hissed, smoke where I hit it- jesus, was it ugly. The grotesque creature darted away. “That’s one. These things travel in packs of four.” “Why four?” Gavin pondered. Not enough time- two dropped from the ceiling, gliding towards us. I aimed my flashlight, striking one down. I rushed over and pressed the light into it’s neck until I burned a hole into it. Behind me, Ivy gutted one and practically bisected it. The one from earlier snarled and snapped, claws striking at me. It hit me, and I yelped and my flesh was torn away. It hissed as it crouched to pounce on me. I would have been dead then had Cynthia not slammed herself into the creature. I raised my light until it’s rat-like face melted into the floor. Two more- Ivy quickly cut into one with some sort of enchanted knife. The other slashed and eviscerated a soldier- but Gavin was quick behind it, his flashlight setting it ablaze. And then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. The tunnel returned to its normal form, and I could see both exits from the middle. I looked at the blood that practically covered the tunnel. I radioed the blockade. “It’s over. I’m formally requesting a clean up crew. And a bath.” I looked over at my assistant, and the others. “Quite a few of those, actually.”

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17ex225/about_1030_people_die_from_confined_spaces_every/

nosleep

Archives-H

Why I Stay Away From Haunted Houses

I still remember how the screen door slammed that October evening. My foster father’s voice, however, was even louder as he shouted after me: "Just where the hell do you boys think you’re goin?” I gestured over my shoulder at my friend Brett’s car, idling at the end of the gravel driveway. I was going to a haunted house with some friends from school, I explained over the rumble of the motor. “Over my dead body!” Frank yelled. “Get back up here!” I couldn’t understand what I’d done to make Frank Liddel so angry. He and my foster mo,, Pam, were a little rough around the edges, but they weren’t the exploiters or religious nutjobs that I’d feared when I was first put into foster care. They’d been nothing but kind to me so far, although the look on my foster father’s face suggested that was all about to change. I wasn’t scared of Frank Liddel, but I was afraid of what might happen if my new family rejected me. Giving up a haunted house seemed like a small price to pay to avoid the other kind of foster home.I shook my head at Brett. He rolled his eyes and drove off in a cloud of exhaust fumes, taking my hopes of fitting in at my new school with him. From now on, I’d be known as ‘the loser who didn’t celebrate Halloween.’ I dragged my feet on the way back to the porch, but all my irritation disappeared when I saw my foster father up close. He’d fallen, rather than sat, on the rocking chair beside the door; he was watching me with the shell-shocked pale expression of a man who’d just narrowly avoided a gruesome accident. "You ever been to one of those things before?” He asked. “A haunted house, I mean?" I shook my head. That was part of the reason why I was so eager to go. "They got all kinds now. Ones with mechanical monsters. Ones where people in masks can jump out and grab you. At some of them, you gotta sign a waiver, saying they're not responsible for whatever they do to ya. You really sure you wanna go to a place like that?" I hadn't thought about it, but I doubted that the local spooky attractions in the small town where the Liddels lived was known for over-the-top horror. In fact, the bright orange flier I'd found had said that the place was kid-friendly. Frank rambled on: "Course, most places just put out those warnings for show. If they ever really did hurt anybody, they'd be out of business overnight–provided that they were ever really in business to begin with. I mean, you never really know for sure who those masked figures are, do you? The ones who you've given permission to come out of the dark, touch you, maybe even drag you off someplace Sure, it might just be an underpaid actor in a plastic costume. But can you really be sure?" I’d heard rumors like that before: campfire stories about serial killers in costumes who snuck into Halloween attractions to hunt their victims. I'd never paid them much attention, but the look on Frank's face made me reconsider. "I'm not just talking about a couple psychopaths here. What I want ya to think about is this: why do haunted houses exist?" I shrugged. I didn't know where this bizarre conversation was going, and at this point, I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out. But Frank wasn't done: "Don't think I can't see the appeal. Of course getting scared is sort of fun, if afterwards you walk back out into the sane, ordinary world you left behind. But what if you don't? What if it's the houses that want people to go inside, and not the other way around?" I took a deep breath. So my foster father thought that buildings can have personalities. There were worse kinds of crazy to be, I reminded myself, and looked wistfully down the country road where the fumes of Brett’scar still lingered. This was my life now, and I’d have to make the best of it. I muttered an apology and moved toward the door, telling myself that I should count my blessings– But Frank’s hand wrapped around my wrist like a claw. “Look, I’m willing to bet that nothing would have happened if you boys had gone to the haunted house in town tonight. People visit haunted houses all the time, right? Nothing happens to them–well, most of them. But if it did, would anyone notice the pattern? Think about it: if a cop or university professor suggested researching ‘haunted house disappearances,’ they’d be laughed out of a job. So people look away…and it keeps happening.” Frank drank a swig of water like a man throwing back a shot, and for the first time I wondered whether the water that he always carried with him was really a substitute for a different sort of bottle. “Halloween wasn’t always the big flashy holiday that it is today. When I was your age, we had a few hay bales and pumpkins in front of the town hall, some cardboard witches in the windows of the elementary school, and that was about it. If you wanted something fancy–like a rubber mask or a costume party–you had to go to the big city.” Frank sighed. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. But when I saw your buddy pull up in his car, I thought back to the Halloween night when my two best friends and I took that drive…and went to our first haunted house. “Cassie and Tyler didn’t have many friends. I didn’t either. That might have been the only thing the three of us had in common, but it was enough. See, Cassie’s dad never did nothing but drink and cause trouble, and most folks figured that the apple didn’t fall from the tree. Tyler, on the other hand…” Frank blushed “...well, the only thing people had against him was that the color of his momma’s skin was different from his daddy’s. The two of them had been dating for years–which is about as serious as it gets in high school–when they adopted me into the little group. I dunno why. Hell, maybe they were just bored. Either way, with Tyler and Cassie I finally started doing the sort of things I’d always imagined teenagers did: smoking in the park, walking down railroad tracks, swimming in the river in summer…and having plans for Halloween night. That’s the worst part, the part that still stings…the haunted house was my idea.” “We had it all planned out. Tyler’s mom was the editor for some magazine, and a grateful author had sent her some expensive liquor as a thank-you gift. Tyler would steal the bottle and give it to Cassie, who would leave it out for her dad after school. By six p.m. he’d be blackout drunk, and Cassie would snatch his keys and pick us up on the way out of town. We’d go to the city, where we’d Trick-or-Treat like little kids, visit a haunted house, try to sneak into some college parties…with the full moon rising and that fall wind in our hair, it felt like anything could happen. We had it all planned out.” Frank repeated, and shook his head. “After buying some silly discount masks and gorging ourselves on candy bars from the rich neighborhoods, we headed for the haunted house. We hadn’t kept track of time, and Cassie was afraid we wouldn’t get there before close–not to mention the line! None of us were used to the city, and just finding a place to park among all those cars was a nightmare. It felt like the house–with its creepy lighting effects and soundtrack of evil laughter–was teasing us. Cassie left the car in front of a fire hydrant and we took off down the sidewalk, hoping we weren’t too late.” “The ticket guy was a kid our age in zombie face-paint and an oversized pinstripe purple suit. He told us that the house closed at half an hour before midnight…and we were three minutes too late. All he wanted to do was finish cleaning up and go home, but I guess the look on our faces made him change his mind. He sighed, took our money, and pulled back the red velvet rope in front of the front-porch stairs. “The place had probably been some rich farmer’s estate…once. Now it was gray, gaunt, and rickety: there was something hungry about the way it loomed over us as we walked inside. The double doors creaked open automatically (a nice touch, I thought) and we stepped into a hallway lit only by creepy blue bulbs. Tyler made a joke about what shows up in blacklight; we all jumped a little and laughed when the doors slammed shut behind us. “It must’ve been a pretty fancy house in its day, but the hallway Tyler, Cassie and I walked down was bare except for plastic skeletons and fake cobwebs. It had a sad, barren look to it, like whoever had set up the haunted house didn’t have the budget to decorate it the way that it deserved. Halloween-themed songs played from a speaker somewhere, and candles flickered in a couple jack o'lanterns, but that was about it. The three of us were pretty disappointed: we’d expected movie-quality effects, not cheap junk that we could have bought at the dollar store back in town. We’d almost reached the staircase at the far end of the hallway when a laughing woman with a rope around her neck fell from the ceiling. "The rope brought her to a halt just above our heads, and we all screamed. Up close, it was clear that we were just looking at a mannequin dressed up like a witch…but that wasn’t what had startled me. See, I would have sworn that what I saw was Cassie, eyeless and bone-thin, like she’d been falling so long she’d starved to death. Tyler gave the mannequin a shove and chuckled as it swung on its rope. Cassie shushed him: it didn’t seem right, disturbing the silence like that. The echoes were all distorted…like the hallway was somehow bigger than it looked. I put my foot on the first step of the staircase and everything went black. Suddenly I was falling, not down these steps but different ones, stairs so steep I could feel the wind around me as I tumbled through the dark…when I looked up, Cassie had caught me. There were no twisted stairs here: just the dim lobby of a cheap haunted house. I told the other two that I’d race them to the second floor. “We were panting by the time we got to the top, even though it couldn’t have taken that long. The theme up there was classic monsters: a mummy that popped out of a broom closet, rubber bats bouncing from the ceiling, a mechanical zombie that sat up from its coffin as we passed by. Nothing scary enough to even make us look twice…nothing like what had happened to me on those stairs. An arrow painted in fake blood directed us to a door on the left, and Tyler yanked the door open impatiently. We were bored already, eager to be done with this and worried about the car…but what we saw behind that door stopped us in our tracks. “It was…just an ordinary living room. No decorations, no cheesy themes. Just a gramophone, some armchairs, a ticking wall clock in the shape of a cat with big eyes that swung from side to side. It was a near-perfect replica of how must have people lived almost a century ago, except that it looked brand new. There was even a cigar burning in an ashtray and a half-finished glass of brandy, like whoever was living here would be back any minute. It felt obscene, like we were invading somebody’s privacy…and trespassing somewhere we shouldn’t. I was about to suggest that we turn back when the door slammed and locked behind us. I knew we had to cross that eerie room to leave it, but even so, it was hard to take that first step. The tiny pink flowers on the hideous wallpaper seemed to squirm like tiny fingers, and I had an awful feeling that we were being watched from the far corner of the room. “Suddenly, the gramophone started playing by itself–but the noise coming out of it wasn't music. It was us. Tyler and Cassie and I, screaming, arguing, shouting in terror about bruises and grabbing hands. We’d never spoken those words in our lives! The three of us looked at each other and all had the same thought: get out of here as quickly as possible. The gramophone kept getting louder and louder; I thought my ears would bleed before we got to the door on the other side of the room, but once we were through it, the noise stopped completely…and all the lights went out. We closed the door behind us and leaned against it, too scared to talk. Tyler started to say something about how maybe it was all part of the act, but the words died in his throat…especially after he looked around at where we were. “It was a dim, dirty kitchen. If the room we’d left had been something out of the last century, this one was all 1970’s: dark wood cupboards, pea green walls, puke yellow linoleum. The only thing the two had in common was the inescapable, lingering feeling that we weren’t supposed to be there…like something was leading us into its trap. Hunting us. “Once, when I was a kid, the basketball I was playing with rolled under a neighbor’s porch. I crawled in after it without thinking, and as I was feeling around in the dank, cobwebby dark, something growled behind me. I never found out what it was–a stray dog, a mountain lion, or maybe even just a rabid raccoon–but I never felt that kind of fear again until I stepped into that nasty little kitchen…like I’d gotten myself trapped in a cramped place with something hungry and horrible. There were no windows and only one door. We had no choice but to keep going deeper into the house…if that’s what it was. “There was something wrong about the air in there. It seemed to be moving, and it wasn’t until we approached the dripping faucet that I realized what it was: the air was buzzing with thousands of tiny flies. Cassie clamped a hand over her mouth and leaned over the sink to see what they were coming from–then she groaned and bolted for the door. Tyler followed her–slipping in a puddle of something rust-colored and sticky that was coming from the fridge–and I followed. Our footsteps had woken the place up somehow: there was a BANG from inside the cabinets, then another, so hard that they shook, and I realized that I absolutely could not handle seeing whatever was about to come out of there. We shoved each other through the door just in time…and felt the slam when something crashed into it behind us. More came, hard enough to rattle the door on its hinges…but it held. “We were in what looked like a children’s nursery. Bright, wide-smiling zoo animals painted on the walls. Small bed topped with plain white sheets. A nightlight in the shape of a grinning plastic moon. It was dead silent, like the room was waiting for us…then, all at once, four almost human shapes sat up beneath the covers. We froze, too scared to move…then something reached out from beneath the bed and tried to pull me under. I yelped in pain, kicked it off, and ran. Once the door was pressed shut behind us, I rolled up the cuff of my jeans and found a burn mark in the shape of a tiny hand with too many fingers. It was still painfully cold to the touch. “Cassie started yelling, demanding to be let out, shouting that we’d never agreed to let anyone touch us…but she stopped mid-sentence. It was the same argument that we’d heard on the gramophone when we first walked into this nightmare! The realization shocked us into silence, and we finally began to take in our surroundings. We were in another hallway…but this one didn’t have an end. The ugly yellow wallpaper and old-fashioned doors went on forever in both directions. Just looking at it made me want to grab onto the floor, like at any minute the hallway would tilt and I’d slide down the carpet into the abyss. I was still trying to get my head around it when the doorknob of the room we’d left began to turn. There was rustling on the other side, fingers feeling around the gaps and hinges… “Tyler started pulling on one doorknob after another, but they were all locked. At the pace he was moving, we struggled to keep up with him. He started knocking instead, swearing that he could hear movement and voices on the other side of the doors. He yelled and pleaded, begging to be let in. Then, when Cassie and I were too far away to help him, he got his wish. The door in front of Tyler swung open, and I saw the terror on his face for just a split second before he was sucked inside. The door shut and locked itself behind him, but Cassie and I weren’t going to let that stop us. I kicked the door until my foot went through it…and then I howled in pain. There was nothing but a wall on the other side. It was like the house had swallowed Tyler up. Even worse, we had no idea where we were: the doors were all identical, and none of us had thought to mark the point that we’d started from… “Cassie just shut down, holding her head in her hands and muttering about how this couldn’t be happening. I remember thinking that at this rate, it wouldn’t be long before both of us went crazy…and maybe that was the point. Then I heard hinges creaking. “By the time I spun around, the door was wide open. There was nothing but darkness on the other side–at least that’s what I thought at first. Once I got closer, though, I saw the stairs. Narrow, uneven, with a plunge into the blackness on either side…and no guardrail. I ever mention that I’m scared of heights? “I couldn’t do it. I told Cassie that I’d starve to death in the endless hallway before I’d make myself climb down there, but she wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Through a mix of pleading, insults, and holding my hand, she finally got me moving…even though I had to crawl backwards to do it. Those steep, jagged stairs were made of something slick and cold as ice; a black wind blew around us as we crawled downwards. It felt like being on the edge of a mountain peak, even though I knew that was impossible. We were still indoors…weren’t we? Or maybe, on the other hand, we hadn’t been in that cheap haunted house for a long time...Just maybe, we’d been swallowed by someplace else. “Before long, the stairs were so tall and narrow that it was almost like being on a ladder above empty space. I was so tense that I started shaking, and I guess it’s no surprise that I slipped. I slid downward, unable to grip the narrow steps and knowing that at any second I might fall into the nothingness on either side…but Cassie caught me. It happened exactly as I’d envisioned it earlier that night–just like the yelling that we’d heard on the gramophone. So what about the mannequin, the one that had looked like Cassie, long dead and falling through empty space? Clinging to the almost vertical steps, I shouted my friend's name–even though I knew that it was already too late. By grabbing me, she’d unbalanced herself and gone over the edge…she probably didn’t even have time to scream. “Cassie had been so sure that the stairs were our way out, but what if they had been a trap all along? After all, we hadn’t opened the door to the darkness–the house had. I climbed back up the stars as quickly as I dared, and found the hallway above exactly as I’d left it…well, not exactly. There was an end to it on either side, and there were sounds: cars driving by outside, the hum of a heating system, and the teenager who’d taken our tickets–yelling about how I wasn’t supposed to be back there, and anyway, the haunted house was closed. “Of course, I filed a police report–a lotta good that did! When I told them what had happened, they decided my friends and I were junkies on a bad trip. Later, they kicked around the idea that we were in some kind of Satanic cult and that I’d killed them myself. In the end, I guess they just decided that the whole thing was too complicated and strange to bother with. Tyler’s family moved away without a word to anyone, and Cassie’s dad drank himself to death before Christmas. The neighbors said that at night he would scream out her name, like he didn’t know she was gone. I stayed where I was and did my best to forget about the whole thing…as you can see, it hasn’t worked out.” The sun had set while Frank had told me his story, and in the twilight gloom he looked almost like a ghost himself. I didn’t know what to say. I mumbled something about how it was getting cold on the porch, and headed for the screen door. “I’m not asking you to believe everything you hear,” Frank smiled. “Just promise me that, as long as you live under my roof, you’ll stay away from haunted houses.” I nodded, and Frank pulled himself up from his rocking chair to follow me inside for supper. That’s when I noticed the scar on his ankle…a scar in the shape of a small, six-fingered hand. [X](https://www.reddit.com/r/beardify)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17fa7e9/why_i_stay_away_from_haunted_houses/

nosleep

beardify

[Part 4] I'm an investigative journalist with a special interest in unsolved homicides & missing persons cases. I just got fired and I have some stories to tell.

[\[PART 1\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/xwuk13/im_an_investigative_journalist_with_a_special/) [\[PART 2\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/y0njom/part_2_im_an_investigative_journalist_with_a/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) [\[Part 3\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/z4wkwt/part_3_im_an_investigative_journalist_with_a/) Hey NoSleep. You might remember me from the above posts, a murder case in Massachusetts I was investigating. If you don't, a quick refresher: I *was* an investigative journalist on a true crime podcast, and I started looking into this bizarre murder that I got an email about, from one of the responding officers to the original 911 call. I started posting here hoping for some help with the case, things got...really fucking weird, and then I was ordered to cease-and-desist by the network I worked for. I wasn't totally operating above board and when the network found out I'd been using my credentials without approval, they got mad. For the last year I've been trying to lay low and not upset anyone else, but a couple weeks ago it got out that I was posting about it here, and, well. There went my job. The good news, for you anyway, is that I am now free to tell some hair-raising stories. As I've mentioned before, I had a public email address associated with the podcast I hosted, and I encouraged people to send me their unsolved mysteries. I got a lot of crap, but I also got a lot of interesting stories. Some of them were published as part of the podcast, but a lot of them weren’t, even the ones I started digging into. I thought y’all might be interested in hearing some of them, the ones that never made it on air. But first, I’ll tell you the rest of the story I was working on this time last year. Well, as much of it as I know. The network made me abandon it before I had any answers, but maybe you guys can figure it out. Definitely read [\[Part 1\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/xwuk13/im_an_investigative_journalist_with_a_special/) [\[Part 2\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/y0njom/part_2_im_an_investigative_journalist_with_a/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) [\[Part 3\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/z4wkwt/part_3_im_an_investigative_journalist_with_a/) before you read on. In the cemetery, Mrs. Knight pointed towards the main gate on the other side of the cemetery. From a distance, I couldn’t be sure what she was pointing at, but when I got closer, it was clear. Across the street from the cemetery’s main gate was a residential street. The houses were mostly nice, with trimmed lawns and white picket fences. Except for one. It dominated the block, taller than all the other houses by at least a story, not to mention the tall, peaked roof. It was all black, the front yard was a tangle of weeds and brambles and a gnarled old tree and what might have been a forlorn little herb garden. I stood near the entrance of the cemetery, wondering what this house was doing in an otherwise dainty little neighborhood, when, of all things, a school bus pulled up in front of the house and a young girl, looking for all the world like an average twelve- or thirteen-year-old, hopped off and headed up the walkway towards the house. That was surprising enough, that this house was occupied not by a mean old witch, but apparently by a nice normal family. Then there was a shout from the bus as it lurched away, and something shot out of the window towards the girl, who gave a scathing look over one shoulder before disappearing into the house. My curiosity got the better of me and once I was sure that no one was coming back out of the house and the bus was gone, I darted across the street and picked up the wadded up ball of notebook paper. I smoothed it out, and gasped. **YOU’LL BURN, WITCH** What the hell? Had I suddenly traveled back in time to 1692? Were these kids really accusing this girl of being a witch and threatening to burn her? I hesitated for a second, and maybe it was out of a genuine desire to help this kid, or maybe I was just looking for an excuse to get inside that house, but I decided to knock. Someone from inside called, “Just a minute!” and then the door opened to reveal a woman in her mid to late thirties, wearing a simple cotton dress with an apron over it, holding a wooden spoon. She had long reddish hair, piled on her head in a messy bun, and a bright, pleasant face. She smiled at me. “Can I help you?” “Um, yeah, hi. I, uh, I just saw your daughter, I guess, get off the bus, and, um, well, someone threw this at her. I thought maybe you’d like to know.” Frowning, she took the paper from me and looked at it. She sighed. “Yes. Well. We suspected this was happening. Thank you for letting me know. I suppose it’s inevitable…well, you know how kids are. It’s not easy…I mean, in our line of work…” I had no idea what she was talking about, but before I could say anything else, an old woman appeared in the doorway, looking livid. “Talia, is that a customer?” “No, Mom, she just—“ “Then get out of our house! Our business is our business. I’ve had enough with these nosy—“ The door slammed in my face. Well. That hadn’t gone well, had it? I stood on the doorstep for a moment, temporarily frozen from surprise, and then I realized someone was calling to me. A man was unloading what looked like groceries from the back of a small car parked in front of the house. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “My mother-in-law, well, she’s not fond of strangers. They, ah, haven’t had the best time, these last years. I'm sure, well, you can imagine.” “I’m so sorry,” I said, “but I actually have no idea what you’re talking about.” He paused and seemed to really look at me. “You’re not from around here, are you?” “No, I’m, well,” I decided to go with the truth. “I’m a reporter, and I’m here investi—“ “You want to know if the rumors about the Proctors are true.” I shook my head. “I don't—“ He interrupted me. “It’s no wonder Edwina wouldn’t talk to you. She’s had a bad time with the media. Like I said, the last few years…I keep telling her if she just told her side of the story, but she won’t…” He trailed off, gazing up at the house, looking forlorn and frustrated. “What about you?” I said quickly. “Will you talk to me?” He sighed and looked up towards the house. “Alright. But not here. Can you meet me at the diner around the corner in an hour?” I was giddy with my success, and drove straight to Jenny’s. While I waited, I searched for the name "Proctor." It was vaguely familiar, but I couldn't figure out why until a webpage for the Salem Witch Trials popped up. Of course. Elizabeth Proctor and her husband had been accused of witchcraft and executed. No wonder the kid got called a witch. I could see it being a hard name to have in Massachusetts, just a stone's throw away from Salem. But why were the last few years particularly bad? I added "Kent, MA" to my search terms and my eyes widened with some interesting hits. (All of these URLs are fictionalized for anonymity but based on my real research. Also, I refer to my former show as *Taken to the Grave* and call the network "WGBR." These are obviously not their real titles.) ​ >[*www.paranorma.com/blog/witches-of-kent*](http://www.paranorma.com/blog/witches-of-kent) > >**ParaNorma Reports: The Witches of Kent, MA** > >We’ve all heard about the Salem Witch Trials, and if your history books did you an ounce of good, you know that a lot of the witchcraft accusations were, well, bull. But does that mean that the greater Boston area is a magic-free zone? Residents of Kent, MA, don’t think so. ​ >[*www.wgbr.com/spookcast/archive/2017/10/24/the-other-witches-of-ma*](http://www.wgbr.com/spookcast/archive/2017/10/24/the-other-witches-of-ma) > >**WGBR SpookCast: Ooky Kooky Spooky True Stories** > >This week on SpookCast, we’re taking a deep dive into the other witches in Massachusetts: not Salem, but Kent. Who are the Proctors, and what kind of magic is behind the testimonies of their “customers”? Tune in tonight on SpookCast to find out. ​ >[*www.nbcboston.com/news/local/kent-woman-claims-witches-cured-ovarian-cancer*](http://www.nbcboston.com/news/local/kent-woman-claims-witches-cured-ovarian-cancer) > >**Kent Woman Experiences Miraculous Cancer Recovery, Claims Local Witch…** > >Susan Gaebler, 52, of Kent, MA, has been given a clean bill of health by her oncologists after a lengthy battle with ovarian cancer. After years of chemotherapy, radiation, and surgery, Gaebler says the real cure came from the town witch. Seemed like the Proctors were really capitalizing on the history of their name. I clicked on the first link. ParaNorma turned out to be “a lifelong clairvoyant and self-proclaimed mistress of all things otherworldly: magic, madness, and monstrosity.” Her website was devoted to selling her “readings,” which she claimed she could do over the phone or, for the full experience and “highest fidelity divination,” in person in her “parlor” in Marblehead. She had an online “emporium” for all manner of “magical” trinkets, like tarot cards, crystals, candles, elixirs, and so on. Her blog post on Kent, though, was devoid of anything useful, based entirely on speculation. I tried WGBR next. I’d heard of *SpookCast*, of course, an annual Halloween podcast series from WGBR. I was actually featured on it once, a special episode of *Taken to the Grave* premiered on *SpookCast* a couple of years ago. It was a weekly podcast done every year for the months of September and October, covering stories about various spooky topics. A lot of them were based in history, urban legends, and true crime, but occasionally they went really off the rails with something like this. The article was a transcript of the *SpookCast* episode from October 24th, 2017. I skimmed the transcript of the episode. >The Proctor house is an old Victorian on Hawthorne Street, overgrown with ivy and vines, exactly what you’d hope a witch’s house to look like. While the Proctors themselves were unavailable for comment during my visit, I did speak with one of their customers, Lily Frankle, on her way out of the home. According to Lily, the Proctor family have been living in Kent for generations, using their skills to help townsfolk. “They’re so kind and always have a suggestion, whatever the problem is. Lots of women go to them when they have babies, or even just colds and stuff.” > >Lily is just one of many satisfied customers who go to the Proctor house for help with all manner of ailments, from the common cold to pest problems. But is what they do really “magic”? Karen McIntyre, local mother and substitute teacher, thinks so, but she isn’t happy about it. “It isn’t decent, what they do,” she said. “We shouldn’t be condoning that kind of meddling.” I asked her what she meant by “magic.” Spellcasting? Curses? Potions? Double, double, toil and trouble? “All of the above,” Karen said. “I don’t know what-all goes on inside that house but I can promise you it isn’t good.” There was Karen McIntyre again. Based on what little I knew of her, she struck me as the town busybody. I had to talk to her, and the Proctors. But the episode was frustratingly nonspecific. What did Karen mean by “magic”? An hour later, the man from outside the Proctor house walked into the diner, glanced around anxiously, and then saw me and hustled over. He sat down across from me. “Thank you so much for meeting me,” I said. I had decided to switch tactics, and hoped he wouldn't notice. “I’m just doing a local interest piece for WGBR on Kent and I wanted to learn more about the Proctor family.” He looked slightly suspicious. "You want to know about the rumors," he said again. I shook my head. “Actually, I haven’t heard any rumors. I just know the Proctors have done a lot of good for people, and that there’s some controversy, and I’m interested to learn more. Ideally from the Proctors themselves, I prefer to keep hearsay out of my research.” “Well, my wife, Talia, she’s of the original Proctor bloodline.” He sighed in kind of a world-weary way. “I’m happy to tell you what I can, but it’s not much, and that’s not me being evasive. I really don’t know much. It’s the women who do this sort of work, not the men. I don’t think men ever possess the…the skills, if you know what I mean.” I didn’t. I had no idea what I had stumbled into, but it was all beginning to sound more like small-town legend run completely amok, rather than a tangible mystery. “My wife and her mother do most of the work now that Tal’s great-aunt has passed on. They’re teaching our daughter when they can, but it’s hard enough being the kid of the town witch and dealing with all the normal teenage girl stuff.” He waggled his hands in front of him, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. But I was stuck on that word. *Witch*. He had thrown it out there so casually, like it was totally normal to call his wife a witch. “What do you mean, the town witch?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but I was a little freaked out. I didn’t know how to respond to a man—let alone the possibility of a whole town—who believed so shamelessly in witchcraft. “Well, you know, they do all the herbal remedies, the traditional medicines. Some women around here refuse to give birth without my wife or her mother present with their oils and poultices and so forth.” “Oh, so they’re really just herbalists.” “I suppose that’s a lot of what goes on, yes. There are bits and pieces here and there of spell-casting, and my mother-in-law has a long and storied history with fortune telling.” Fortune telling? Spellcasting? My face must have betrayed me because he waved a hand at me. “I know, I know,” he said. “It sounds, well, it sounds batty. I suppose that’s why folks are always turning them into the bad guys. It’s hard to believe.” “I’m sorry,” I said. “But I don’t understand at all. Are you saying that your wife, and your mother-in-law, actually perform magic?” He sighed. “It’s not that straightforward, now, is it? Because magic, well, that implies a certain hocus-pocus that just isn’t the truth. What Tal and Edwina, and all the Proctor women before them, do is much less flashy than all that Halloween nonsense.” I was getting frustrated. “But what do they do?” “It’s like you said, herbal medicine. Oils, teas, poultices, tinctures. Natural remedies.” “You said spell-casting.” “It’s not what it sounds like.” “I don’t know what it sounds like.” I was trying not to get angry, but this man lived in that house. He had the answers. And he wasn’t giving them to me. “Listen, what they do isn’t hurtful. They don’t do curses, or hexes, or whatever else you might have heard. Tal, and Edwina, they help people. That’s all they do. They have this tradition that’s been passed down in their family, and I don’t understand it but I’ve seen what it can do.” “And what can it do?” I was trying to stay calm and professional, but I felt like he was talking in circles and I wanted a straight answer. He regarded me for a minute. “Did you hear about the woman with cancer?” “Yes.” “Susan came to my family about two years after her diagnosis. Talia and Edwina had helped her with womanly sorts of things before, and the doctors had told her there wasn’t much more they could do, so she was looking for any shred of hope. “Tal didn’t think she had anything to offer this woman except emotional support, and maybe something to help with the pain. But she would try everything she could, and she said that just the act of trying would be healing. So Susan started all the herbal things, the teas and tinctures, and she came to the house once a day to have a spell cast over her.” I opened my mouth to interrupt but he held up a finger. “Every day she said she felt better. Her pain was reducing, she was needing less of the heavy-duty pain meds the doctor gave her, she had more energy. Then one day she went in for scans and her tumors had shrunk. Suddenly they were operable. Her diagnosis was no longer terminal. “They did surgery, another round of chemo and radiation, and she was cancer-free. She’s been in remission for almost four years now. The doctors had no explanation for why her tumors shrunk. Why she suddenly recovered. They said it was a miracle. Susan said it was magic.” He held his palms up defensively. “I’m not saying one way or another. I’m saying what I saw. What I’ve seen over and over and over again.” “But Talia didn’t actually cure her. Surgery and treatment cured her.” “No, Talia didn’t make the cancer go away. But something shifted inside that woman that changed the course of her disease and helped her to get better. That’s what Tal does.” I didn’t know what to do with that story. It was amazing, sure. But there was no proof. I’m an investigative journalist. I deal with hard facts. “Can I ask you another question?” “Ah, here we go,” he said. “What?” “You want to know about the murders.” “How did you know?” “You’re asking questions about my family, you’re a journalist, it’s the biggest thing that’s ever happened around here. I knew it would come up.” “Okay,” I said. “So what does your family have to do with those murders?” He heaved another tremendous sigh. “There’s folks ‘round here who think what my family does are curses. We take the blame for a lot of unexplained illness, bad luck, sudden death. It’s easy to make the witch the scapegoat when you don’t have another explanation. “But of course, Talia and Edwina had nothing to do with the murders, except that Edwina made a prediction about a year previous that everyone thinks is related to the murders.” “What was the prediction?” “I don’t know. No one knows. Edwina doesn't discuss that sort of thing. The only reason anyone knows it even happened is because Rose told a friend of hers, who blabbed about it after the murders." "Well, what was *she* saying?" He grimaced. "I don't want to spread rumors." "Off the record." "Well, the rumor is that Edwina predicted her death." Holy shit. Way to bury the fucking lead. "But that's not really how fortune telling works. Ed always says that the future isn't a book you can read. No matter what she saw, she couldn't have predicted it like people say. Whatever that girl's friend said, it wasn't right. But Edwina won't talk about it, and the only other person who knows the truth is, well," he gestured sort of hopelessly down the street, towards the cemetery. I thought for some reason of the theme song to a show I watched as a teenager. *Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead.* "So that's, that's why people think Edwina was involved. Or could've prevented it. Depends on who you ask, but either way, my mother-in-law is not a popular person around here anymore." Before I could say anything else, his cell phone started ringing and he leapt up as though stung and fished it out of his pocket. "Hello? Yes, hi, I'm at--no, I just--I'll be right back." He looked at me sheepishly. "I'm in trouble now. I have to go." "Thank you for your time," I said, "I didn't catch your name." "Harry," he said over his shoulder, practically running out of the restaurant. After Harry left, I stared into space for a few minutes, trying to process the conversation I'd just had. It was all so ridiculous. Witchcraft? Spell-casting? Fortune-telling? But at least some people here seemed to take it all so seriously. Too seriously. I desperately wanted to talk to Edwina, but that seemed unlikely. After I ordered and ate dinner, I paid the check and gathered my things. I was about eight steps away from the diner when I looked up and realized my car was gone. Actually, all the cars were gone. The parking lot was completely deserted, and entirely silent. I turned in a slow circle, white-hot dread rising in me, until I was facing the dark windows of the diner which had, thirty seconds earlier, been bustling with the dinner rush. The fading light of the setting sun had entirely closed over, and the sky was a deep, flat black, unmarred by even a single star. I could hear nothing except my own blood pounding. You never realize how much noise there is in the world until it's all suddenly gone. I stared at my reflection in the dark glass, and the empty diner beyond it. And then, the all-encompassing silence was shattered by a scream. A figure appeared beside my reflection, and I whirled around to face the empty street. But it wasn't empty any more. A young girl was standing on the sidewalk on the other side, her mouth wrenched open in an endless scream. Without thinking, I ran towards her, her scream echoing in my ears as though she were right next to me and not two hundred yards away. I made it to the road, close enough now to make out a round, pretty face and blonde hair in a cheerleader's bow, green eyes, wide with horror. I realized she wasn't just screaming, she was saying something. *"NO! STOP! DON'T HURT THEM! PLEASE!"* A car horn went off, and I looked away from her to see headlights speeding towards me. I kept running, certain I could make it to the other side of the road. Something was very wrong, and this girl needed help, but before I could take another step, everything went black. The last thing I remember is a quiet voice in my ear. *"They deserved what they got."* PART 5 COMING SOON

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17eye9x/part_4_im_an_investigative_journalist_with_a/

nosleep

takentothegrave

This was My Last Flight, I Don't Look at the Sky Anymore

Some things you don’t want to remember. I pushed this out of my memory for years, but lately it keeps popping to the forefront of my mind. No idea why I keep thinking about it. Maybe, if I talk about it even if it’s just online I will stop thinking about it. The year was 2011 on the eve of my last flight. It was about ten minutes before we needed to start getting ready. My Crew Chief, Daniel, was talking about the merits of libertarianism or something. I never listened when he talked about politics. “Yes.” I said. “Yeah… Do you know what you’re gonna do..? After today.” Daniel asked. “No idea.” Never thought I’d leave the Air Force and definitely not that soon. Life’s a bitch. We finished our coffees and headed out to my plane. My beautiful F-16 Block 52, Delilah. I have been using her for seven years. I could have named it something more masculine but this plane is a beauty. So, it deserved a fitting name. Climbing into the plane I saw the names of myself and the Crew Chief painted on the side. Delilah and I have many memories. As I closed the canopy locking it into place Delilah came to life with the press of one button. The familiar light green glow basking the cockpit. “START 2.” pushing the throttle into idle with my hand lingering on it. “One last time” I said to myself. Daniel gave me the thumbs up. “Broken Man, requesting permission to Taxi” I asked. “Evening, you’re number one” the tower guy said. “You rushing to get rid of me?” “You catch on quick. Don’t go breaking Delilah.” Releasing the brake, enabling NWS to drive her forward to the runway. “Requesting permission to take off.” “You still here? It’s dead out there, just go.” Advancing the throttle to the maximum picking up speeds of 80 knots. “Disabling NWS.” Delilah reached 90 knots, 100 knots as we rode down the runway.“One thirty, one forty, one fifty. Taking off!” Delilah and I lifted into the sky for our final flight.12,000 ft over the New Mexico desert with the starry night sky above me. The nose of the plane tilted down 30 degrees as the CCIP green circle encompassed the target. Descending 1000s of feet in seconds. A churning feeling formed in my stomach while I hit 5000 ft. At this point all it took was a single click and the bomb dropped. I imagine a large metal egg dropping and tumbling through the sky and then splatting into the ground. The sand kicked up into the wind as anything living scurried away. Not afraid of a bang, but of a thud. The bombs were fake, training bombs. My last flight being a training mission was kind of underwhelming but still kind of a relief. It’s safe. I’m not going to have some last second tragedy take me out of this world or so I thought at the time. I kind of wish it did.Ascending back into the sky I could have sworn the radar flashed. I assumed it was a bird, or maybe a glitch but then it locked onto me. The warning receiver struggled to identify it. “Broken man, is there supposed to be someone else for training?” Silence. I adjusted the frequency on DED and asked again. Nothing. The radar warning receiver screen flooded with random shapes disappearing and reappearing. Then all at once, it stopped. The screen was clear. For a brief few seconds I thought I was safe till a single icon returned. M. Someone was trying to shoot me down. The wailing of alarms going off around me while diving down 1000s of feet. I unleashed a fury of chaffs glowing like little stars behind me. The sound stopped and there was a moment of ill-seated silence. I almost allowed myself to feel relieved. But then the console started flashing with the blaring sequence of random alarms. Losing control as time went on. It was now or never. I ejected. I hated to do it and looking back I wished I took the risk. As I descended down to Earth with the flapping of my parachute in the wind I saw Deliah disappear into the horizon. A bright all encompassing light engulfed me. I shut my eyes but the brightness scorched my eyes as I squinted. Felt like I was being pulled back into the sky. The brightness was dialed up to the extreme. When I opened my eyes again I was strapped to a cold metal table. I could barely move. “Wha-” I couldn't speak as my mouth felt so dry. From the corner of my eye I saw a slender lanky shadow. It slowly approached me. I tried to move but it was all I could do to turn my head and face whatever was in front of me. Its face was a pale sickly green and their eyes were two big black ovals. Its body was stick thin and elongated to twice the size of a normal man. His long stringy fingers curled around a sharp metal like tool. It was horrifying I still remember it all and have the scars across my chest and on the sides of my head. I will spare you the details. I woke up alone in a field the next day. The government found me, classified me as insane and locked me up in a mental asylum for years. I suspect they knew the truth but there was nothing I could do but move on. In many ways you can say I did. Buried my trauma, got married, had a few kids though till this day.. I I can’t look at the sky anymore.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17exlbn/this_was_my_last_flight_i_dont_look_at_the_sky/

nosleep

Formal_Barnacle304

The Missing Priest

I'm moving. After Twenty-Seven years in the Midwest, I've packed my bags and accepted a job on the West Coast. Aside from the regular bullshit that decides to randomly appear out of thin air when making a massive, life-changing decision, things have been going okay! My goodbye party is planned, the large-scale items are packed, and I'm hitting ten-thousand steps a day pretty easily with all my trips out to the dumpster. There's one thing I couldn't throw out, though. My photo albums. My family is big into ancestral document-keeping. I can tell you where my great-grandpa was on D-Day, or I can give you the rambling of how an even greater grandpa fucked us out of a fortune. Long story short, this gets told at every drunken family gathering. Needless to say, things such as photos are important to us. I was on facetime with my mom looking through the section labeled, "Catholic School Years," and something caught my eye. I didn't recognize the priest in the picture of my first communion. For those of you who aren't Catholics or don't know about the religion, your first communion is an act of ceremony of accepting the body and blood of Christ. Or something like that. Honestly, I stopped practicing the religion when I turned Fifteen. My parents were never too pushy on it, anyway. It was always about being part of that community. The Catholics (according to my parents) held good morals, were outstanding citizens, a safe community to be around. And that's really it. Church a few times every few months and that's all practicing we had to do. Aside from Catholic School. "Who's that next to Father Paul?" I asked my mom. She paused, taking a deep look at the picture on facetime. She squinted. "I can't really see it, there's a glare or a connection issue or something." She replied. I sent her the picture over a text. I watched her study it over facetime. And then she answered. "Of course! Sorry, it's been so long. That's Father John. You don't remember him?" "I don't." I replied. The call went on, she quickly switched the subject. It's not so weird to not recognize a priest in a communion picture you took nearly two decades ago, right? But something about that picture turned something in my stomach. To paint the picture, it's little eight-year-old me, donning a fresh polo shirt and khaki pants. To my right, Father Paul stands stone-faced, a good few feet away from me. He gave sermons that you're most devout Catholic grandmother would doze off during. This supposed Father John, he stood over me, his hand on my shoulder, squeezing tight, smiling a big smile. He was young, by the looks of it. In his thirty's, clean-shaven. The smile was what threw me off. It was so big, yet so... manufactured. I ended the call with my mom, took the picture out of the album, and went back to packing. But I couldn't get it out of my head. I called my school-grade friend, Matthew, the next day. One of those friends you meet when you're a kid and you always keep in touch with, no matter what. His mom was a secretary at the school back in the day. She did it to keep a closer eye on her son, God knows they didn't need the money. His mom was part of all the event-planning with the church and the school. If anyone knew, it'd be Matthew. And by extension, his mom. He showed his mom the picture. Granted, she hasn't worked there in a decade or so. But she didn't recognize him. Neither did Matthew. They asked if it was some other event I had confused my first communion with, but no, the date on the back of the picture is clear: May 11th, 2003. I cross-reference it with both Matthew and his mom. They agreed, that's the date. "Maybe another priest was there just to help out. It's not that weird for another priest to be present during a first communion, dude." Matthew tried to talk me down. He was right. By all accounts, there's no reason for me to be so obsessed with this picture. But something about just doesn't sit right with me. Matthew told me his mom is going to do some digging in the meantime. I started to look through old, digitized newspaper clippings, the church website, I scanned and reverse-image searched the picture. Anything to find any proof of this "Father John." I came up with nothing. I decided I can't go on a manhunt when I'm in the middle of a move. I'm already stressed enough. That twist in my stomach is probably from all the stress and anxiety. I said fuck it, I'll move on. I finished packing all those historical documents and pictures I've been left to take care of. It took everything in me, but I even threw the picture of Father John in there. Pack it away and move on. West Coast me can figure that out when he opens it. That night wasn't about Father John or some hysteria surrounding a picture. It was about getting drunk with my friends and family. It was my goodbye party. We met at the local brewery in the middle of the afternoon. It was going be an all-day event. The older family members would come in and say hi, then leave. The younger members could come later in the night and join the party. Things were going fine, even if my mom was acting a little stranger to me than normal. I couldn't tell if it was because she was going to miss her baby boy or if it was because of our phone call. My dad didn't miss a beat, though. We shared drinks and stories all through the afternoon. More tears and cheers than I could count. Then, the real party started. Things were in full-gear. Shots were flowing, some locals I hadn't seen in forever stopped by to wish me good luck. I was surrounded by friends and family. Hell, I was shoe-in to get laid. In the middle of a conversation with Blonde Ashley, uniquely known for placing first in name-drops in my middle school journal, Matthew pulled me aside. "Dude, Blonde Ashley's into me tonight." I told him. "That's awesome, but-" He hesitated. "What is it?" I asked. "I don't want to ruin your night, man." "You can't say that and not tell me what you've gotta-" He pulled out a picture. It was me and him, dressed in matching shirts and ties. Giving a thumbs up to the camera, our mom's seen in the reflection of the glass behind us. "Ah, dude. This picture is hilarious." I told him. Based on his expression, I missed the point. "This was first communion." He said. "Uh, no. Mine was clearly marked. May 11th, 2003." I told him. He flipped the picture. Same date. "I'm fucked up. I've taken more shots than I can count. What the fuck does this mean?" I blurted, probably a bit too loud. A few family members looked over, mumbling among themselves. My cousin, C.J. fell into me. He was hammered. I stepped back, falling into the wall behind me, dropping the picture. He picked it up, look me up and down. "How fuckin' cute you used to be." He said. I snatched the picture out of his hands. "Fuck off, C.J-" I started. He grabbed me by the wrist, pulling me to the bar, demanding I do shots with him. Matthew followed. "Time to do a shot with your boy, C.J. before you get too blitzed! I'm not buying more than one, though. Ay, Matthew. You heard how our great, great, great, great, great grandfather fucked us out of being rich?" C.J. yelled. "Don't worry too much about the picture, man. Let's just get fucked up and worry about it tomorrow." Matthew whispered to me. And in that moment, I agreed. Drink, have a good time, talk to Blonde Ashley. Hungover me can deal with it the next day. And he did. I woke up to an alarm I had set for 9am. Dumb decision, but a rule for myself so I don't sleep these precious few days I have left in my hometown away. I grabbed a Powerade, some cold pizza I had left on the kitchen counter, and sat myself on my couch, checking my phone for any recollection from the night before. After that shot with my cousin, the night went black. My phone consisted of a bunch of tags on Instagram stories, texts, pictures and videos. Nothing notable. Well, I decided there was nothing notable as I skipped past any video or picture that had even the smallest chance of being embarrassing. And then the phone rang. It was Matthew's mom. I didn't want to answer, but figured she'd only call in an emergency. "Hey, Matthew didn't come home last night. Do you know where he is?" She asked. I checked my phone. We shared each other's location, so I could surely find him. My assumption is that he ended up at some girl's house and his phone died. But the location said he was still at the brewery. That idiot, I assumed. He left his phone at the brewery, left with a girl, leaving his mom worried sick. I came up with a lie and told her I thought I saw him leave with a, "friend." No need to explicitly tell his mom he was going home with a girl. I lied, I'll make up for it later when he asks for a ride to the brewery to retrieve his phone. She thanked me, hanging up. And then I heard a bang in my backyard. My house is modest. It's small with a backyard and a small garage. Nothing special, but certainly more space than I need. When I looked through the back, through the rain that had just started drizzle down, I saw the interior of my garage flicker on and off. Thinking it was an electrical issue, I ran out. Too hungover to throw on a jacket or grab an umbrella, I ran out barefoot, crashing into the garage. Matthew was in there, flipping the light switch. "Dude, your mom is worried-" I said, before he cut me off. "Don't. Speak." He said, coming closer. He looked tired. He jumped when I ran into the garage. He was shaking. His feet were muddy, and his arms were bruised all over. He turned the light off. From our point in the garage, there was enough space between my house and my neighbor's to see into the front yard. I saw a car pull up. And then a call. C.J. "Hello," I answered. He gave me a bullshit ramble about the night before and how fun it was. And then- "You seen your friend Matthew? Dude was fucked up and I tried to give him a ride home last night. He left his phone with me." C.J. said through my speaker. Matthew's eyes, lit by my phone screen, widened. He shook his head violently. "I haven't seen him." I replied. "You mind if I come in? I got breakfast for ya'." Matthew went silent. "Man, I'm sick and miserable. This is a top five hangover of all time. We can grab some lunch later. I'm literally puking my guts out right now." I said. There was a long pause. The car drove away, and C.J. told me he'd see me later. He hung up. We turned the garage light back on. Matthew grabbed me by the shoulders. "We've gotta get to my mom's. Now." He said. "Why?" I don't think I'll ever forget the desperation that leaked out from him. "She's not safe. Your family. I-" Matthew was shaking violently. He couldn't say another word. I don't know what happened, but it was clear I wasn't going to be able to get anything out of him until I took him to his mother. We drove in silence. While I've waited for him, I've typed this out to you. It's been a while now, I wanted to give him his time and space, but he hasn't come out and his mom isn't answering the phone. I'll update when I can.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17ey68a/the_missing_priest/

nosleep

enemyjake

The road to New Wilderness [Part 23]

[\[Part 22\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17e0txn/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_22/) Without a watch, and my head stuffed in a rough cloth bag that smelled of dirt and potatoes, I found it impossible to keep track of time. On through the darkness my captors rode, their beasts loping with the ease and skill of trained hounds, and sharp branches whipped at me from all side. Part of my thoughts were fixated on trying to wiggle loose, but at the speed we were moving, I feared the fall more than the mysterious armored bandits that had grabbed me. One of them rode right in front of me, the rope around my arms and chest connected to him somehow, and the round metal centerpiece on his big shield had a nasty habit of swinging back to catch me in the chin. Riding this fast through the mid-September night chilled me to the bone, and I shivered in a hunch behind the shield in an attempt to avoid the wind. Still the hooves rumbled on across the forest floor in a steady rhythm, and just when I thought I’d happily throw myself off to avoid hypothermia, they slowed to a light trot. *Bawoo.* Another horn called from somewhere up ahead, and out of the midst of the unseen riders around me, another blatted back a reply. *Bawoo-bawoo.* Voices shouted in the distance, and a creaking sound echoed on both side of me, like giant hinges in a garden gate. Bridles clinked, and a few of the deer roared with high, elk-like bugles. Our pace slowed, so I concentrated on my hands, and tried to pick at the knots with my sweaty fingers. *If I could get down, maybe I could slip my legs through, and use my teeth.* Something tickled my nose, and my stomach rumbled as a wall of delicious aroma slithered into the sack on my head. Cooking meat, baking bread, and woodsmoke combined to make my mouth water, and food overtook my thoughts, a frustrating, intoxicating desire that I couldn’t shake. I’d never felt so hungry in all my life, and ravenous thirst came with the hunger in a vengeance. Weight shifted off the saddle in front of me, and a few pairs of hands took hold of my arms, legs, and waist. Too tired, cold, and hungry to fight, I let them set me on the ground, and did my best not to fall over, as a spate of dizziness rippled through my head. Shoes ran from all directions, happy voices of men and women who called out, and strangely enough, the majority of the words were English now, as if the odd language of the riders had been nothing more than a hallucination. “Aleph! Thank God, we were so worried. All the other sorties came back half an hour ago.” A woman laughed in relief not five feet from me, and similar conversations flowered to life all down the line of riders. “How many were there?” “We heard all the gunfire, is everyone alright?” “Who’s that with the bag on her head?” I fidgeted where I stood, unsure if they could see my fingernails tearing at the knots, an awkwardness creeping into my chest. Being in crowds had never been a favorite pastime of mine, as it only ever served to remind me how alone I was, but being blindfolded and disoriented made the sensation even worse. *We could be miles from the lake with how hard they rode. I wouldn’t even know where to go if I could get away.* Two sets of hands led me away from the whispers of the crowd, and short cut blades of grass swished under my feet. Some steps tripped me up, planks echoed with our footfalls, and a door closed behind me with a dull, wooden *clunk.* They guided me down to a cold hard seat and loosened the itchy ropes around my wrists. Someone pulled the potato-scented bag off my head, and my eyes slammed shut at a sudden influx of golden light. I sat in a small room of what appeared to be a log cabin, with plank floors, log walls, and exposed beams in the ceiling. A fire crackled to my right in a fireplace made from stones and mud, several candles burning in little tin lanterns around the room. Long curtains of some kind of off-white cloth covered the windows, but I could make out more lights outside, flickers of torches and fires, more voices laughing and calling to each other in the evening air. It was warmer here, but I couldn’t relish the heat for the three armored figures who stood across from me, two holding rifles, and one in the middle seated in a chair, a long cruciform sword across both metal-clad knees. All three watched me for a few moments, and the middle one pointed a gauntleted finger at my stained uniform shirt. “Who are you?” I swallowed, rubbed at my arms to get some of the feeling ack into my cold skin, and a dry catch in the back of my throat made me cough. “Hannah Brun. I . . . I’m from New Wilderness.” He turned to one of the guards at his side and nodded at the door. The guard ducked out and returned a few moments later with a blue tin cup of water, which the man in the middle handed to me. Barely had the water touched my lips, and I gulped it down, unable to stop myself, my arms shaking with primal need. Why was I so thirsty? I’d drank water throughout the day. I couldn’t see their faces for the eerie masks on their helmets, but the one with the sword took my cup back and sent his guard out for another. “Why are you working for ELSAR?” My eyes caught a black lump by his left boot, familiar nylon pockets and zippers that made my heart skip a beat. *They still have my pack.* “I’m not.” I rasped and drained the second cup as soon as the guard returned to place it in my hands. Out went the mug for a third time, and the man with the sword studied me from behind his iron mask, fingers drumming on the hilt of his elegant weapon. “Yet you would risk your life for them?” I shook my head and shivered, goosebumps rising on my arms despite the nearby fire. How I wished I could at least get the woolen blanket that the stranger in yellow had given me. “No. F-For my friends, Chris and Jamie. They’re on the ship.” Eyes blinked at me from behind narrow eye slits, the three fighters motionless. “So, you’re a pirate then?” It came as a growl from the man with the sword, a low, dangerous murmur that made my already chilled blood run glacially cold. “That’s why you went looking for this object you carry?” “No.” My teeth chattered, and I eyed a bunk in the furthest right corner of the room with longing, a thick fur coverlet on top that had to be as soft as silk. “I’m a r-ranger. We came from New W-Wilderness and got captured. I need to trade the box for their lives, or the pirates will s-sell my friends.” Another long pause enveloped the room, and I couldn’t suppress my next shiver. *They might have been sold already. Where would ELSAR take them? Is there some kind of prison camp, or would they just kneel them down in the woods and . . .* The guard on the sword-bearing man’s left stepped out from the three and closed on my chair. I winced, ready for a strike, a slap, some form of violence like what I’d experienced on the *Harper’s Vengeance.* Instead, both hands went to pull the guard’s helmet free, and a slender face emerged with creamy skin and vibrant golden hair tied back in a neat bun. Two curious eyes gazed back at me, the irises ringed in a metallic gold that shone like stars. She was not much larger than myself in height, perhaps a few years older at most, yet beautiful in a way that even I couldn’t quite believe, and the woman’s face slipped into a sympathetic half smile. “She’s telling the truth.” The sword-bearer sighed, as if exasperated. “*Amica mea*, you can’t just—” “Look at her, Adam.” The golden eyed woman strode to the bed, from which she stripped the fur coverlet. “You’d take pity on her if she had mold in her hair and blood between her teeth. Is she not a daughter of God, same as the rest?” “The Lost Ones aren’t as deceptive as people, you know that.” Adam, the man with the sword, sheathed his blade in frustration. “She could be a spy. Anyone can take a shirt off a corpse.” Pleasant softness cloaked my arms, the brown fur coverlet settled around my shoulders by the golden-haired woman. I couldn’t help but sigh in relief at the dense embrace of the fur and tugged it close around my trembling limbs. “Thank you.” At that, the woman smiled, in a gentle radiance that pushed the tension from my bones. “See? She’s not dangerous, *pupillam oculi mei.* Just lost.” *Finally, someone who understands.* “Only one way to be certain.” Standing, Adam turned to the third guard by the door, and nodded. “Aleph, if you would please?” I recognized the leaf patterns on the armor now, the man by the door the same one who had elbowed me in the head. Aleph slung his rifle over one steel shoulder and grumbled on his way out. “Gonna walk myself to death, going back and forth like this.” Left alone, the other two faced me, and the man with the sword reached up to tug his own helmet off. He had a square face, clean-shaven, with toffee-colored irises and sandy-brown hair. I guessed the man to be in his early thirties at most, and with how the woman sidled up to him, their eyes gleaming whenever they exchanged glances, left me with little doubt. *Ah, a couple. That explains why she gets to flout orders.* “If you mean us no harm, then answer me truthfully.” Adam fixed me with a grave stare, one hand resting on the hilt of his long sword. “Your companions; you say they were aboard the pirate ship?” “Yes.” I sat up, hoping beyond hope that at last, I’d found people who weren’t total maniacs. “A boy and a girl, about my age, Chris and Jamie. Chris is tall, and Jamie has light blonde hair. Look, the ship might not be far, if we hurry, we might still be able to—” His hand came up to signal for me to stop, and Adam cocked his head to one side. “We can’t let you can’t go back, Miss Brun. Even if you could reach the pirates, they’d be in no mood to negotiate now. There’s no point.” *Excuse me?* Something snapped in my brain, and my blood boiled with a surge of rage that I didn’t know I had. I lunged to my feet and jabbed the air with my pointer finger. “No Point? *No point*? I was *this* close to saving them before you rode in a ruined everything. I had the box, we had a deal, but you just—” “Hannah,” The golden-haired woman shook her head, and waved for me to calm down. “Listen, you don’t understa—” “No, you don’t understand!” I shouted, fists balled at my side. “Those are my friends out there, they need me, and I’ll be damned if I let you keep me here while they—” The door to the cabin swung open, and all the words stuck in my throat. Two figures stood in the door frame, backlit by a rising moon. They each wore long shirts that resembled some kind of pseudo-medieval tunic, stained various shades of forest green, with matching trousers tucked into brown leather boots. In the dim shadows of evening, I had to blink a few times to take in their facial features, and my mind almost couldn’t recognize them out of shock. “Hannah?” My anger melted, and I swayed on my feet, unsure if what I was seeing was real. “Jamie?” Bleach-blonde hair streaked forward, and Jamie almost knocked me down, throwing her arms around me to squeeze so hard that I thought my ribs would crack. She laughed, though I could feel her tears on my neck, and I did my best to hug her back with all the energy I had left. Scarcely had she let go, and another set of arms engulfed me, along with a broad chest like silk-covered steel, and I drank in the heady aroma of Chris’s skin through his tunic. He smelled like pine needles and woodsmoke, enough to make my tired brain fuzz over, and I buried my face into his shoulder to soak in his luxurious body heat. A tide of emotions overwhelmed me, and I sobbed in relief, feeling as though it had all been a bad dream. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Brun.” He chuckled, though Chris’s voice cracked at my name, and he held me close in a tender way that sent my frazzled thoughts over the moon. *That spider nest was so worth it.* The second Chris and I drifted apart, Jamie gripped me by my shoulders to look me over, taking in my ruined clothes, the bandages on my skin, and the burnt strands of hair. “You look like shit.” “Good to see you too.” I giggled, suppressing my joyful tears long enough to shake my head at Jamie. “But you were . . . you guys were in the brig, how did you . . .” “Peter let us go when you didn’t come back.” Chris watched me with those sky-blue eyes that stuck me to the floor, and I wanted to throw myself into his arms to stay there for a solid week. “He and Tarren snuck us off the ship, and we ended up running into these guys in the woods. We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” That stuck in my brain, and I hesitated, trying to process those words. *I did all that, and they just let them go? That doesn’t make any sense.* “I don’t understand.” I looked back and forth between my two friends, noting how well their bruises had healed, how Jamie no longer wore a sling on her arm. “They were waiting for me at the coal barge. They were there just like they said, why would they let you go without seeing if I came back?” Jamie and Chris exchanged bewildered glances, and Jamie eyed me with concern. “They were only there because they were searching for us. Everyone thought you were dead. Where have you been all this time?” “What do you mean?” My eyebrows shot up like arrows to the top of my forehead. “I saw you just this morning, on the ship, remember?” No one moved, and everyone stared like I’d flashed them. Chris opened and shut his mouth a few times, like he couldn’t find words to speak. “Hannah, you’ve been gone for *three* days.” *What?* I waited for the punchline to the joke, for someone to crack a smile to let me know it was all an elaborate prank, but none of them did. My knees wobbled, and a rush went through my head, sapping me of my strength. Three days? How was that possible? No one could survive for three days without even remembering it. Just one day without water could cripple someone. If I had been gone for three whole days, why wasn’t I . . . *Thirsty? Starving? Exhausted?* How much water had I drank just sitting here? My stomach had yet to stop growling, and it hurt in the pit of my guts, each gurgle like a knife blade. Just standing upright drained me, as if I’d not slept in days, and I swayed on my feet. “I . . .” I fought to keep my balance, the world spinning as if I were trying to stand up in a washing machine. “. . . I think I’m gonna throw up.” Chris and Jamie eased me back into my chair, and my stomach rolled like ocean waves, both palms clammy with sweat. Jamie snatched a nearby pail from beside the fireplace, dumping the few logs in it onto the floor, and held it ready. “You’re alright.” The golden-haired woman knelt in front of me and fished a small glass vial out of her belt pouch. “Take deep, slow breaths for me, in and out. Swallow this when you’re ready.” Wary of the murky brown substance in the glass, I flicked my gaze to Jamie. She hefted the metal pail and waved me on with an urgent hand. “It’s fine, I drank like three of them for my shoulder. Tastes like candy. Just do it, or make out with the bucket.” *Well, when you put it that way . . .* I squeezed my eyes shut and downed the contents of the skinny glass vessel with a shuddery gulp. It reminded me of orange and vanilla ice cream, sweet and tangy, but with a strange jittery sensation in my guts that calmed my nausea. The shaking stopped, my heart slowed, and it was as if someone had waved a magic wand over me to take all the tension away. *Whoa.* Her brilliant smile beamed in the firelight, and the golden-haired woman took the empty vial from me with a pat on my hand. “Lantern Rose nectar. We cultivate them in our gardens, both for medicine, and to keep the Firedrakes out of our corn. By the look of things, that one was well overdue.” Breathing a long sigh at my stomach settling, I felt my face growing warm again. “Yeah, I guess so. Sorry for screaming at you.” “Sorry for the interrogation.” Seeming embarrassed of his earlier gruffness, Adam’s stoic expression melted into a sheepish grin from across the room. “But we couldn’t take chances. We’ve had run-ins with the soldiers in the past, none of them pleasant.” Sitting up straight, I winced at all the eyes on me and looked around. “So . . . where are we?” “Come see for yourself.” The golden-haired woman headed for the door behind Adam, her hand slid into his as if they were going out for a regular evening stroll. “We have some food set out for the returning fighters near the church. Once you’ve eaten, I’ll see about a bath, so you can go straight to bed afterward.” *Yes please.* I climbed back to my feet, and Chris took my arm to steady me, Jamie holding the door. With the fur coverlet still wrapped around my shoulders, I stumbled to the cabin doorway to peek out. Dozens upon dozens of square one-story cabins surrounded the area in neat rows, interspersed with gardens and flower beds in a patchwork quilt of green. Torches sputtered in wrought iron fastenings by doorways and along footpaths, with stones laid across the mud, the lush grass trimmed short. Intricate designs adorned the doors, corner posts, and roof eaves, every building a work of art. Etched into the wood grain, I saw deer, wild boar, and eagles, along with winged lizards that breathed fire, and familiar creatures with white eyes, or metallic legs. Each rooftop had been covered in thin squares of split oak, not a shingle out of place, and the gardens too were an OCD dream with plentiful corn, beans, and various pumpkins in weed-free blocks. Luminescent flowers ringed every patch of crop, gorgeous orange and yellow roses that gave off heady sweet aromas, and miniature trenches filled with water bore fluorescent white lilies that seemed to move on their own. High overhead, tiny bat-winged animals traded little bursts of flame in the sky, and a long wall about a quarter-mile distant ringed the entire hamlet, cut with perfect crenelations in the ramparts. Fireflies swirled right past me in a magical cloud of staccato jade light, and in all my life, I’d never seen a place so beautiful. “You okay?” Chris squeezed the hand I had fastened to his arm, and I drew a shaky breath at the warmth of his touch. “Yeah. This is . . . this is amazing.” I clung to him without caring how obvious my intentions were, and we walked down the little flagstone road behind Jamie and the others, drinking in the sights. People strode to and fro, laughing and talking in pairs or huddles, their happy faces lit up by the dim ambience of the night. Like the woman from the cabin, they all had cream-colored skin, with shimmering golden hair and matching eyes, the only thing varying being their facial features, height, and voice. The men wore their hair in short ponytails or cut close to their scalp, many with beards, and bore similar clothing to what I’d seen thus far. The women however varied in attire from trousers to dresses, fine sweeping garments of dyed linen that could have been spun in a custom shop in downtown Louisville. They walked with proud, confident strides, their golden hair so long that it reached their waists, often woven into complex braids that dazzled me. *Carla would have killed to have hair that long.* As we passed by, they watched me with curiosity in their gazes, and more than one smile or waved, a strange reversal of the suspicious attitudes I’d first encountered in New Wilderness. In fact, they didn’t seem at all bothered by their surroundings, or the cries of the various mutants that rang out in the distant hills. Even the armored guards patrolled with relaxed ease along the elegant battlements, not staring out into the night with tight-lipped anxiety like our own forces did. No tension coated the air, no weight of looming dread, and they didn’t hide their lights or pull shut their curtains in fear. Here, it seemed, civilization was not only alive, but thriving, pushing back against the barbaric shadows of the night with pure, unabashed triumph. A crowd appeared as we rounded a bend, and high above them rose a sharp white steeple against the night sky, crowned with a gold-painted cross. White clapboard siding covered the quaint chapel, all the little streets and roads leading to it, as if the village had been constructed around it from the ground up. It would have fit in with any rural community across middle America, had it not been for the handprints. Side-by-side, they lined every board, every window, golden hands painted on the wood with little squiggles underneath. The closer I got, the more I realized the squiggles were names, hundreds of names written in swirling yellow letters that shone in the light of nearby torches. *Zayin.* *Deborah.* *Ehud.* In the grass around the church, close to a hundred or more people were spread out around a long, winding chain of rugs laden with food, seated on blankets or cushions, with torches and candles lighting the entire feast. Empty suits of armor lay on the ground behind their owners, all of whom hunched over their plates with their tunic collars loosened in the cool breeze, and the golden-haired woman stopped to help Adam take his suit off. “You can sit with us.” She grinned, and turned so Adam could work on unlacing her steel cuirass. “I’m Eve by the way, and this is my husband, Adam. Welcome to [Ark River.](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1328o2v/i_trapped_a_monster_in_my_garden_shed_part_1/)”

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17et1f3/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_23/

nosleep

RandomAppalachian468

The Midnight Driver

I'm a hitchhiker. My first ride was on January 4th, 2006. I was fifteen years old when my heart first stopped. My home was no refuge for me that winter night, though I can hardly say it was most of the time; and the earthy smell you get along the woods always masked the coppery scent of blood from my dad's lashes. This, the bite of winter’s chill overcast by a deafening silence only ever broken by the wind and the crunching of natural debris beneath my feet was an old friend in the worst of times, as when the frost slivered in, so too did dear old dad, with a fine supply of liquor for his belly. This time was different though, for the cold began to seep in, my very bones going numb, and my companion had a visitor, piercing through the darkness of my midnight sanctuary. A blinding beacon of headlights indicated I was not alone; and as much as I tried to convince myself; I wasn't opposed to it. My thumb soared upward,and,and the car's light illuminated my somewhat thin, and slightly bloodied figure. It skidded to a stop, its engine purring like a tabby, and the door of the backseat slowly opened; black paint gleaming in the moonlight.  I cleared my throat, hoarse though it was, and slowly climbed into the back. It was comfortable, real leather, and a warm, almost cinnamon-like scent permeated everything. It smelt like my idea of Christmas, one with Mom. My illusion of comfort was shattered as I strapped myself in, and hesitantly analysed my surroundings, a rabbit in a pitfall trap. I still can't explain why, but the concept of simply not getting into the car never dawned on me. What did, however, was the appearance of the driver. His hair was slicked back, his outfit was extravagant, as if he had just left the Met Gala. A dark purple tuxedo enveloped him, red highlights shimmering like fresh blood under the yellow light of the car's interior. He turned his head, and I felt my heart go silent in fear. His wasn't featureless, despite the layer of flaky, grey skin wrapped like bandages across his face, the outlines shone through. Large, almost comically wide eyes were outlined by the skin, a face splitting smile cut through it, and most strikingly, where his nose should be, was perfectly flat. I heard a slight cracking, and pried my eyes from the visage before me, terrified that I had sat on something and hence angered the monstrosity. I found nothing beneath me, and when I looked back, I found the source of the noise. He was leaning towards the back seat, the skin covering his mouth torn open, rancid breath that reeked like death and rotten fish spilling out, as I felt bile rise. It spoke, flakes of skin falling from its mouth. Its voice was slow, and deep and dark, yet it scraped against my ears like nails on a chalkboard. *"Help."* The monster croaked. *"Help.. and you live another day."* =================================== I could do nothing but freeze, some primordial instinct buried in my psychology convinced me that if I didn't move, if I didn't even dare to act alive, that the predator before me would forget I was there. I considered that perhaps it was right, as the car hummed along for what felt like hours.  I considered it plausible right up until the car stopped. As it did, a dark shape took form to my left, coalescing slowly, sitting on the opposite seat. It looked vaguely like a man. I then heard the cries, before I could panic further. I gazed out the window, and before me, was a most dreadful sight. A woman stood sobbing in a dimly lit street, the Eiffel tower in the distance behind her. Her once elegant clothes were stained by dark blood, her eyes were black, and at her feet, lay a young man. His stomach was riddled with red blotches, bullet wounds. The door opened before I could reach for the handle, and I did not dare look at the Driver for confirmation. Some innate understanding came to light in my mind, and I knew what I was to do. *"What happened?"* I had scarcely realised I left the car before the words spilled out. Miraculously, the weeping woman responded, her sobs quieting, and her Abyssal eyes locked onto mine; not even the street light reflected off them. She spoke, her accent was thick, though the words, to my surprise, were in English. *"Who are you?! Is my son not enough for you monsters?"* I spoke, slowly, trying to calm her. *"Please, ma'am. I'm not here to hurt you. I uh, I'm here to help. Please tell me what happened."* The Black-eyed woman regarded me with suspicion, though seemed to calm somewhat. *"My darling Piere.. oh baby."* She sobbed softly. *"He kept trying to bring us fortune, borrowing money at every turn, promising each loan would be worth it. They finally caught up to him. I Found- I found him here. We used to get ice cream on this street, when he was a boy."* She sniffled, her black eyes scrunching up in a silent sob. *"I'm sorry. But.."* I swallowed as it suddenly struck me, like lightning conducting through copper my mind connected the dots. *"Piere wouldn't want you to spend forever crying. I think he's spent enough time waiting."* She looked up at me, and as her face was finally illuminated by the street light, I realised her pale skin was barely corporeal. *"Piere?"* She whispered softly, dark eyes registering the vehicle behind me, and its open door. *"Come, Mama. It would be rude to keep our chauffeur waiting."* The sleek black car drove off into the Parisian Night, and The Midnight Driver kept his promise. My heart beats to this day, though I swear to any who will ask, I died on January 1st, 2006. ==================================

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17erur8/the_midnight_driver/

nosleep

RogenDoor

Shadoweater

*Scuttle, scuttle, scuttle.* A cold sweat collected at my armpits. I shot out of bed, slid down the stairs, locating the source of the noise. Marks as deep as icepick blades dug into the rafters. Before I could react, an ovoid form thrashed across the ceiling. Every movement had a visceral crunch. Popcorn ceiling and plaster rained from above. “This can’t be happening,” I whimpered, scurrying to my parent’s bedroom and shaking my mom awake. The usual routine. “There’s an intruder!” I said, pointing to the open door. “Honey, you just had a bad dream. Take some melatonin and go back to sleep. You’ll be alright.” Would I? I never believed my parents words. Whenever I saw one of those specters, they just passed by, ignoring me. Being born with the fear of ghosts was a pain to say the least. The horrors from my imagination flooded into reality. It’s all in your head, this and that; I’d heard it all. My heart wanted to listen, but my mind didn’t. I wanted the nightmares to end. But something was off. Ghosts couldn’t make noise, right? ​ I went back outside. My eyes widened. The holes had repaired themselves. Didn’t even leave traces. Did I have a hallucination? No. That couldn’t be it. I saw AND heard that thing burst through the ceiling like the Kool-aid man. Hallucinations couldn’t do that. Or could they? BANG! The colossus slammed right into a wall. Its frantic legs dug into the floorboards, rushing across the kitchen, flying across the counter. Utensils shot off like Fourth of July fireworks. No doubt my parents heard the commotion. Double blinking, I saw that the silverware had returned to its original position. I rubbed my eyes. How could that be possible? I knew that some ghosts could induce hallucinations. Maybe that was the case? Even if it was, how my parents couldn’t hear it was beyond me. I stepped back, clutching the sides of my pajamas and retreating back into the hallway into my parents’ room. My mom jumped out of bed, draping her hands over my shoulders. She knew I would continue with this reassurance ritual. “You have one of the most powerful imaginations I’ve ever known. You need not fear it. It’s playing tricks on you.” “I want this to stop!” I pleaded. “Listen. You need to get over this fear. Alone. We don’t want to be harsh, but the only person that can truly get rid of this fear is you. You have to decide how you will conquer it.” “No, you don’t under-“ The beast rushed at me from the heights, stopping at my feet and making me trip. A herculean form surged forward; its exoskeleton cracked in concert with its joints. Two hippo heads stuck out like warts on both ends. Its outline faded, clouding with a thick veil of smoke. Its canines scraped against each other with the force of tectonic collisions. The specter wrenched one head back. Vertebrae crunched against its shell like some demented xylophone as the other snapped against the ground. Both heads converged on the spot of darkness right by my legs, completely ignoring my terrified form. Why was it going after my shadow? I kicked back. My foot just passed through. The beast snarled, walloping me in the stomach. I skidded across the hardwood floor like a hockey puck. There’s no way they didn’t hear THAT. My dad rushed out, hands out at his sides. His head darted around, wondering what the commotion was. “It’s right there,” I declared, sobbing in fear. “Son, what is it? I don’t see anything.” The cantankerous crustacean was directly in their sights. How could they not perceive it? With the ghosts, they only lasted a few seconds. Not this thing. It stood out in the open like an oblivious chicken in the middle of a field. What was it? I shuddered at the bizarre form. It’s fangs gnashed together, clicking and drooling. It pounced to the left, extending its legs, overtaking me and rearing up on its back legs. I kicked it in the head, hoping it would yield. It didn’t. Again, my body just passed through it. I collapsed like a worn-down skyscraper. My extremities thrashed around like noodles in boiling water. “Call an ambulance, now!” My mom took out her phone and punched in the numbers. She shouted into the phone, keeping me in her line of sight. My mom reached over me, trying to calm me down. The beast sunk its teeth into my shadow. Thorns of agony climbed up my leg, channeling towards my hips. I punched the beast in the nose. My hand collided with the floor, drumbeats of agony surging up my knuckles. It wouldn’t let go. Mist conjured around the dark shape like fog across a forest. Unseen forms dragged my whole body in with my silhouette. ​ My eyes fluttered in swirls of technicolor hysterics. Everything cut to black. \--- ​ Creeping fluids and nauseating dripping woke me up. When I looked down, my legs and torso had bleached. Furrowed, throbbing folds snared my limbs and head, pinning them to the floor. Moisture seeped into my eye sockets. Darkness and a thick, imperceptible wall surrounded my every being. Was I in the beast’s stomach? Somehow, I could still see the tops of the ceiling. I felt acid eat away at my skin and rip apart the muscle in between. Screaming in agony, I saw my parents huddle over me and try to calm me down. So this was it. Me, a ten year old boy, dying to a creature that belonged in a book. “Wait a minute,” I thought. “The fading marks. The fact that only I can see and perceive the monster. Its abstract, undefined form. The fact that my attacks passed through its body.” “Your imagination is playing tricks on you,” my mom’s voice rattled in my skull. “Hallucinations can induce sounds, too…This isn’t a ghost,” I said. “It’s a tulpa!” I heard my parent’s words continue. “The only person that can truly get rid of this fear is you.” My brow creased and my lips upturned. *“You have to decide how you will conquer it.”* At that moment, I saw nothing but red. Chyme rose from stomach and stung my tongue. From the folds of the guts were puddles of bubbling acid, soaking up my body, dissolving and digesting. I screamed in rage. I needed to find a way out. But how? I was defenseless inside the leviathan’s gullet. There had to be a solution. How could I defeat a monster that I couldn’t even interact with? If the beast only existed in my imagination and could interact with reality, I had to find a way to get rid of it. But how? Wait a minute. Tulpas lurk in one’s imagination, somehow able to manipulate reality via the mind’s eye. Physical weapons had no effect. What if I visualized and conjured my own weapon? My parents stood in shock, trying to wrench me out of my trance to no avail. I closed my eyes. Ignoring slippery folds reeling in my back and legs, I pictured a handgun in my palm. I extended my pointer around an imaginary trigger. Cold steel resonated through my veins. It only showed up looking something like a shoe, but I had to make do. I pantomimed loading and cocking it, aiming directly at the upper wall. The moment I pulled the trigger, shards of translucent shell flew everywhere. Shrieking, the outline of the monster faded away, exposing the walls and floor below. I was free! My mother rushed in to give me a hug. Flashes of red and blue illuminated the windows outside. Limbs practically glued to the floor, a group of first responders rushed up the stairs, investigating my limp form. Hands hoisted me by my back and legs, carrying me outside. The paramedics loaded me onto the ambulance, adjusting my legs against the gurneys. Sirens trailed off and faded as I blacked out once again. \--- I woke up to my mother sobbing. Blinking, I analyzed my surroundings. A hospital gown surrounded me and my skin was pale as clouds. The nurse smiled, seeing that I had made a successful recovery. It didn’t take long for the doctors to diagnose my condition as a seizure. I raised an arm, seeing that they had wrapped it in bandages still seeping with bile yellow fluids. My mom handed me my phone, and that brings me to where I am now, hoping my story can be heard. As doctors chatted in the background, I overheard them trying to understand how I developed acid burns. I knew what truly happened, but that didn’t matter to me anyway. My parents were right, the only person that could cure my anxiety was myself. The pills and therapy DID help, but I still needed to rely on myself. And that is exactly what I [did.](https://www.reddit.com/r/WeAreLegion/)

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17ezvd9/shadoweater/

nosleep

TheBlackCycloneOrder

Jack Lives Across from Me

It was the first time I’d been to my friend's house. We share a winding path that burrows its way into small nooks and crannies of ravines and street lights. Rubble paved a social barrier between my neighbours and me, I expected my friend to do no different. There was a small simple unspoken agreement that our tiny neighbourhood would remain quiet and intimate. As an introvert myself, half of the reason I moved here was the beautiful ways in which I didn't have to interact with another soul (unless I wanted to). There was a long stretch of the canyon that separated my friend and me. For the sake of simplicity, let's call him Lumber Jack. Our streets were at a standoff, as the two sides of our rivine seemed to never touch. It was a peaceful and unlikely non-verbal friendship I had formed with this man. Driving down, I'd wave to Jack as he worked up the courage to build something new for his patio. I'd heard of him lumbering around his neighbours houses asking if they needed any help with fixing old brokens. Sometimes he'd write or draw things on scrap pieces of wood—things to make me smile. Once, he drew me staring at myself on a block of wood, hung it in his windowsill, and captioned it as “Hello little Neighbour:)” . It was awkward, but the sweetest form of flattery I'd ever received. Every day he'd wave to me going inside, and it became a daily routine and a necessary step to putting a bright big smile on my face. One week, however, Jack didn't greet me as usual. I set aside my afternoon plans of watching paint dry and decided to make the hike to his side of the gorge. A sharp bowl of soup in one hand, and a get well soon card in the other, I made my way to his cozy cabin in the rocks. Streetlights seemed duller on his side of the canyon. Almost as if the caves were just holes in nature's great recorder, there was a subtle whistle that rang through the cracks of rock and rubble. Hiking uphill, every step I took ached to go back. Eventually, despite my body telling me not to look, I knocked on Jacks' front door; which I watched him build several weeks ago. There was no answer. Already getting the chills from this scorching day, I left the soup on his porch and quickly spurred off from the same place I had come. Heading back, I realized I had forgotten his card. Sputtering around I flat out ran to his front door, dropping the card almost half in the covered soup. I'd made my adventure, but my gut wanted to head home. That is, however, until I saw the wood he painted earlier that year. “Hello little Neighbour:)”. It was just a pair of cartoon eyes smiling over to look across at the house below. Above? They were my eyes. He'd clearly seen me watching him make this slab and decided to paint my eyes as a gotcha. A little “I know you're watching me work! Isn't it marvellous?”. It had never occurred to me how small I must've looked from his patio, though. He painted my eyes—cartoony, yes, but the colour was right. He'd even painted my thin-framed glasses. I couldn't see any other person in such detail from this height. It's not like green is a very guessable eye colour, either. I looked behind the cabin. Slabs of painted faces lay before me. His neighbours—the little one who always biked up the road, a husband and his wife who sit on the front porch. My neighbours—a man who hadn't been home in a few days on vacation, an old woman that lived directly above me and stayed inside knitting. My friends—one who'd stopped by a few times to deliver a cake or two, another whom I hadn't seen in years. Each slab I saw revealed a different person, more intimate to my closed-off life. I visited my neighbour's house for the first time today, and like hell it'll be my last.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17eztoc/jack_lives_across_from_me/

nosleep

MrLintWurm

The Try not to laugh Killer

Prepare yourself for a mind-bending journey into the realm of regret. We've all been there—the tantalizing daydream of rewinding the clock, erasing our missteps, and evading the clutches of an impending disaster. Little did I know that this idle chain of thoughts would become the catalyst for a series of events that would forever alter the course of my life. Brace yourself as we delve into the gripping origins of this extraordinary chain of events. I accompanied my longtime friend on a spontaneous adventure. Her pickup truck was in dire need of repair, and she had found a man advertising his auto services,who could provide both the necessary parts and the expertise to install them at a reasonable cost. With my parents away on vacation and my college start date still looming, I figured there was no harm in joining her. It felt like the noble choice to make. As we embarked on our journey, my friend shared details about the mysterious mechanic we were about to meet. He had sent his location via text message, but when I attempted to verify the address through an internet search, I found no results. Expressing my concerns, I relayed the lack of information to my friend, prompting her to explain that this was a personal contact she had discovered on social media. Though hesitant, I decided to put aside my doubts and go along with the plan. After all, what could possibly go wrong? Arriving at the designated location, we were met with a vast expanse of untamed wilderness. It seemed like an unexpected detour from our journey, but we welcomed the opportunity to stretch our legs and take a break from the monotony of the road. Stepping out of the truck, I inhaled the crisp air, savoring the freedom of the open space. The scenery around us was breathtaking, nature's beauty untouched and serene. Birds chirped in the distance, their songs harmonizing with the rustling leaves. It was a tranquil setting, momentarily lulling us into a false sense of security. As I wandered a short distance away, reveling in the tranquility, a subtle unease began to stir within me. The absence of any signs of human activity struck me as odd, the silence almost deafening. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss, a nagging instinct warning me to stay alert. Glancing back at the truck, I noticed my friend sitting with her legs facing out into the open with the drivers door slightly open ajar. engrossed in her own thoughts. Sensing the need for caution, I made my way back to her. It was then that a flicker of doubt crept into my mind, questioning the wisdom of our decision to venture into the unknown. Little did we know that our journey had just begun, and the tranquil wilderness would soon transform into a stage for unforeseen events. With trepidation coiling in the pit of my stomach, I prepared myself for the unexpected twists that lay ahead, hoping we had not ventured too far off the beaten path. We found ourselves stranded in the middle of nowhere, our truck in dire need of repair. As we scanned the desolate surroundings, searching for any sign of help, my friend's pale expression caught my attention. Confusion washed over me, expecting her to deliver news of a simple misunderstanding or a minor setback. But her words never came. Curiosity piqued, I approached the window where she sat, her silence filling the air. With a sense of unease, I inquired about our next course of action, suggesting we could return home and address the issue the following day. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, and with a defeated tone, she revealed that the truck refused to start. Suppressing frustration, I reassured her that it wasn't the end of the world, suggesting we try flagging down someone for assistance. Surely, a passing police car or a Good Samaritan would come our way. However, as she attempted to reach for her phone, we were met with the cruel reality—“no signal.” She uttered. Time slipped away like sand through our fingers, and the sun began its descent, casting long shadows that stretched across the desolate landscape. Anger simmered within me as I realized I had no signal to contact anyone to help rendering us utterly disconnected from the outside world. Helplessness settled in, exacerbating my growing discontent. In that remote and abandoned place, devoid of any signs of life, I contemplated suggesting a long, arduous walk back home. I cannot cope with boredom, and nothingness. Thoughts of a warm shower and the comfort of familiarity beckoned me, but before I could voice my suggestion, my friend's demeanor shifted drastically. Her eyes appeared swollen from tears, and her voice quivered with fear. With a trembling whisper, she unveiled a bone-chilling truth—the messages in her inbox were sent by none other than the supposed mechanic. This individual was far from ordinary. Glancing at the message screen, I caught sight of phrases that sent shivers down my spine: "If you dare to laugh, your life shall end tonight" and "I shall be the harbinger of your demise." Moreover, in her state of terror, she claimed to have glimpsed a lurking presence nearby. Everything unfolded in rapid succession. Was this all a cruel prank? Was she foolish for involving me? Or perhaps, I was the ultimate fool for blindly assisting a friend. Shock and unpreparedness surged through me like an electric jolt. Without a second thought, I instinctively sought refuge beneath the truck, instructing my friend to find cover as well. The safety of the vehicle's undercarriage became our fragile shield against the impending danger. Silence hung heavy in the air as we huddled in our makeshift sanctuary, hearts pounding in our chests. The true nature of our predicament began to sink in, the gravity of our situation unfolding with each passing second. We were trapped, at the mercy of a sadistic killer, and our only hope was to remain hidden and pray for a chance to escape the clutches of “Mr make us laugh we die.” As the Try Not to Laugh Killer circled the broken-down truck in the enveloping darkness, my friend and I huddled together, our senses heightened to an almost unbearable level. Fear coursed through our veins, rendering us hyperaware of the slightest sound or movement.The tension in the air was palpable as the killer's presence seemed to grow stronger. Suddenly, in an unexpected turn of events, a loud, exaggerated raspberry sound “Ppprrrrrpppp” erupted from the direction of the killer. It cut through the silence like a jarring disruption, catching us off guard. Confusion mingled with our fear as we exchanged bewildered glances. The unexpected sound seemed incongruous with the ominous atmosphere that had surrounded us. It was a bizarre and absurd moment that momentarily shattered the tension, replacing it with a strange mix of perplexity and a hint of reluctant amusement. The killer's passing of gas though momentarily surprising, served as a stark reminder that we were still locked in a deadly game. It was a stark contrast—a fleeting moment of levity amidst the darkness and terror that surrounded us. We knew that succumbing to laughter, even in response to such an unconventional display, could be our downfall. The anticipation was intense,As my eyes welled up with tears from holding back the laughter, I struggled to stifle the snorts that threatened to escape through my nostrils. The absurdity of the situation, combined with the tension of the Try Not to Laugh Killer's presence, created a volatile mix of emotions. I dared not open my eyes to look at my friend, fearing that their stoic and frozen expression would be enough to send me into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. The mere thought of their reaction was enough to make my shoulders shake with suppressed mirth. Just as we thought the killer had moved on, his footsteps fading into the distance, a sudden and unexpected sound shattered the silence. It was a loud, sharp fart that reverberated through the air, resembling the roar of a motorbike starting up. The sheer absurdity of the noise was enough to push me over the edge. Despite my best efforts, the floodgates of laughter burst open, and my body shook with uncontrollable mirth. The tension that had gripped me moments before dissolved into a wave of pure amusement as I succumbed to the hilarity of the situation.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17fa3ds/the_try_not_to_laugh_killer/

nosleep

Groundbreaking_Pool6

Beware The Glass Tree

I don't have long to type this out and I don't know how to begin, but I need to warn you so that you don't suffer the same fate I am. Posting it here is the best way that I know how to get this to you. A few years ago my great aunt Agatha passed away. Until that point she had never missed a family gathering and kept up to date on all the family gossip and affairs. I guess she kept the will up to date as well, because there wasn't a single person in the family that didn't inherit something. I inherited the glass tree, and at first I was annoyed about it but... let's begin with the letter:. *Dear Marge: I hope this letter finds you in good health, if not, then good health shall soon come to you. I leave you my glass tree that was gifted to my uncle by a fairy. Which is why the craftsmanship is of such high quality for its age, but also why you cannot be greedy with it. Tell the tree your woes and watch your life blossom. I always believed in you and felt you had the worst luck, and I hope the tree will help your dreams become reality. Stay humble, much love, gr-Aunt Agatha. I looked at the tree: it was exquisite and beautiful, and aged elegantly. The branches were a shining bronze colored glass adorned with shining emerald-colored leaves, and along the base was jade-colored grass. On the bottom were the words “Beware of Greed as you whisper your need” engraved into it. I placed it on my desk so I could have something to look at while I did my homework. At the time, I was staying with a few other girls in a shoddy apartment that should really have been condemned. But that's all we could afford, and it was cheaper and less restrictive than staying in a dorm on campus grounds. I didn't talk to the tree, not yet, but I guess the tree heard us all talking about the apartment conditions and what it would take to be in a more comfortable apartment. Because a couple of months later we were moving closer to campus. The new apartment was simple and had the bare basics of what we needed. The roof didn't leak when it rained anymore, we felt safer and less cramped, and we were happier. That didn't last too long. The day I realized the tree was actually blessing me is when it ended. Not immediately, stuff like this takes time, but that was the beginning of the end. I hadn't yet begun talking to the tree, but I had my roommates and took phone calls in my room and the tree listened. Even though I wasn't talking to the tree directly, it still listened. Such a good tree, I hope you treat it better than I did. I was on the phone with my sister, complaining about my ex, Jeremy, and his stalking tactics. They were escalating and becoming more frightening by the day. I wanted him gone so that the fear would be gone. The next day, he vanished. His to- go bag was in the passenger seat, and the car was turned on ready to start. Employees at the burger joint said they saw him climb into the car, but never pull out. The time stamp on the security footage was the same as when I was complaining to my sister. I looked at the tree, acting all innocent atop my desk, and a cold chill overtook me. My breath became shallow and I began to feel numb. I threw a piece of cloth over the tree, then avoided my room for the next few days. I was in a panic, afraid to my bones, because the tree had magically made him into non-existence. The tree now felt evil, and I feared what it may do if I complained about my boss or anyone else. This lasted for a couple of months until I unloaded on some Medium that I had no intentions of talking to ever again. “Have you ever read or seen Death Note?” She had asked me. I shook my head no and she went on. “In the story, if you write a name down in the notebook the person dies. They all die the same way and within the same time after writing their name. Unless you specify how and when they died, you couldn't get too specific, but if you wrote it like a cause of death it would happen when and how you said. I wonder if you had told this tree that you wanted Jeremy to be arrested, or transferred away from you it would have done that instead.” “Why do you think the tree would have behaved like this Death Note? I said I wanted Jeremy out of my life and he vanished, I didn't say I wanted Jeremy to disappear off the face of earth!” I shouted. “That's how the fae works. They follow things to the letter, not to the spirit. You said the tree was made by the fae. If you say “I want a million bucks” you may have a yard full of Bambi rather than a pocket full of money,” she said. I don't remember how we agreed to test it, and I told her that I'd get back to her and let her know what happened. Obviously I never did, because when it worked the greed began. I suddenly saw the tree for its monetary worth, and I had big dreams to fulfill. I was no longer afraid of the tree now that its methods were clear. Oh, how foolish I was to think there was nothing to fear about my wonderful glass tree. I think the Medium talked to someone else about the tree, because a "collector" for the "Katadesmos Museum" came by asking about it only a couple of weeks later. Of course, I told them where to stick it. I think she wanted it for herself because I couldn't find it anywhere online. No amount of money on earth could equate the tree's potential. I wish I had accepted their offer when I had the chance. Maybe it will show up at the "collector's" house. I didn't go around killing people with the tree, and I couldn't affect anybody who was a celebrity. I think the attention on celebrities is what protects them, not just that the tree refused because they're a celebrity. Last night was the night it was finally over. I sat in my new room in my four bedroom house that I owned all to myself, surrounded by closets of clothes that I only ever wore once, with my newfound wealth displayed on my walls for company that never came to see. I was watching youtube on my smart tv, when I saw a large house in the background of one of the videos. “I want that house,” I turned to the glass tree in my lap like some kind of cat. “Get me that house! I want that house!” I know, very Veruca Salt of me… I guess that's when the tree decided it had endured enough of my shit. I heard a loud crack and felt a pain on the bottom of my foot as though I had stepped on a shard of glass. I cried out in pain and looked for the source... There wasn't even any blood. I rubbed my finger along where I felt the pain… my foot was smooth like glass. I was slowly turning into glass beginning with my feet, I could feel it spreading. I began to panic when it got to my knees as I pleaded and begged with the tree. It stopped at my waist so far, but by midnight tonight I will be all glass, I think. On the base is a clear figure of a young woman sitting with a book. It started off clear, but as I became more glass it became more colorful. I don't know what will happen to me when I become all glass. Maybe I will shatter or just cease to be. The tree has allowed me till midnight to post a warning for whoever ends up with it next. I don't know how you will come across this tree, but I know somebody reading this will. When I begged for the chance to warn the world, I heard the name of this place as a soft whisper in the wind that sounded like rustling leaves. Be kind to the tree, and stay humble.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17enqpx/beware_the_glass_tree/

nosleep

Cryptid_Muse

I've studied the red eyes of Jupiter, and they studied back

It is common knowledge at this point of the storm on Jupiter, the “red spot” as it is called. My colleagues and I have started calling it the “Great Eye”. We have only found one documented case of the phenomena we nicknamed “Spot blindness”. We have, however, started hearing unconfirmed cases of the phenomena. It can best be described as a sense of impending doom when observing Jupiter, oftentimes accompanied with a phrase. In the one documented case we have, the phrase was “I see you”. This phrase was heard being emitted by everything after the first instance of contact with Jupiter. After the person in question went off of a gut feeling they came across a small lake in which a meteor suddenly, and inexplicably changed course and crashed into the lake, killing several fishermen and drying up the lake, leaving nothing behind other than a smoldering crater. Now, me and my team are researching the meteorite and trying to understand the whole situation with Jupiter. We think we’ve discovered the problem and we have no way to solve it. Let me take a different approach to the story, explain a few things before truly going into the thick of it. I am the lead researcher in the field of all things unnatural and extraterrestrial. My work is often kept on the down low and that's when I do get work. Though I will say, this is the busiest we’ve been in a long time. It all started when he started picking up a repeating signal coming from Jupiter, nothing crazy, just three rhythmic thumps followed by a pause. That was about two and a half decades ago, at that time, I was but a lowly intern but that's not what was important, what was, is that it didn’t stop, until a couple months ago. It didn’t stop so much but changed, instead of being a rhythmic thumping, it started becoming more complex, sounding like words. The words themselves have not been formally identified but many have thought to have heard the phrases “I see you”, “Precisely you”, or “Icy Moon''. I personally hear; “Spicy soup” but no one else shares my thoughts. When the meteorite crashed we were immediately called upon. I and two of my colleagues were the first of my division to make it there. We were cleared to get close to it and inspect it, it was glossy, steaming, black and charred while still having a shiny, reflective nature about it. I think my least favorite piece about it was how solid yet porous, matte yet glossy, charred yet clean, wet, yet dry. The entire stone was a huge contradiction to itself. Running my gloved hand across it I came across another contradiction, it was smooth and somehow rough, it didn’t make sense and it hurt to think about. After a lot of talking to people and getting permission to talk to more people, we finally got clearance to take a sample of the rock. We took it back to one of the portable labs just outside of the crash site and found out that it was made from minerals that we had never seen from space. We went back to the crash site to find no one, not a single person. My team looked high and low, in things, around things, we looked everywhere but there was nothing. We called up our supervisor and asked her what we should do about the situation. She told us to continue on with the plan we originally set out to do then get out. We carefully walked up to the meteorite and drilled a hole inside of it only to find a thick black sludge pour out. Just as soon as it started the sludge stopped. We heard a cacophony of squeaks and high pitched screams as multiple small creatures spewed out of the small hole we drilled, hundreds of them came out, they looked like the sludge that came just before them, they looked like they were made of oil. The monsters scattered in every direction and I cursed myself for letting this piece of extraterrestrial research just slip from my grasp like that. My next thought was to open the rock the rest of the way but I would need more permission. So I did as I had before and called my supervisor who told me that I didn’t have to ask for every little thing and to just go ahead and do what I see fit. So I did and I cut it open. To my and really all of my team's surprise, we found a pristine, clean, untouched blue sunflower. As I gazed into the flowers' immaculate colors and I suddenly felt a presence of being watched, so I turned around and looked out of the crater where my colleagues were once standing, they were just there. I walked up the wall of the crater and looked around. Nothing, not a sign of my team, no track marks, no lights in the distance, no sounds of moving bodies, nothing. I gazed up into the sky when I got a massive migraine unlike any other that I had had before. I fell to my knees and clutched my head in my hands. I looked back up to the sky which at this point was pitch black, not a star in the sky, they were there ust seconds ago when I looked up, two seconds ago. The only thing in the sky was a single red dot, in the rough position of Jupiter, hell, not rough, exact point of Jupiter. As I stared I felt it stare back, then, it blinked. The light went out then back on in a fraction of a second. I don't remember a whole lot after that. I think I passed out. I woke up later that night. I have no Idea how long I was asleep because I don’t know the time when I passed out. I was still the only one there but the stars had returned but the red Jupiter had not gone away. When I got back to my main lab, no one saw what I did, the red eye was still there but no one could see it, my team was still missing and so was everyone that worked on that site except for me. I don't think that I’m lucky, I think I was chosen. I can’t look out at the stars without getting debilitating migraines. I have become useless to the team and effectively fired. That flower is gone, the monsters are gone, the researchers gone, and all the evidence that the meteorite was ever there. The rock itself was nothing but ash and dust. The only thing that is left is the crater. I still get paid by the government, but that's to keep me quiet, well, the money wasn’t enough. I need to get this out, if you get migraines or hear voices when looking at Jupiter, call the police, they will extend you to people that can help. Until we figure out exactly what to do to fix this, we need all the help we can get.

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17ezgv3/ive_studied_the_red_eyes_of_jupiter_and_they/

nosleep

Devine_Dead

I Tried To Gift My Fiancé A Threesome, But He Already Had Someone in Mind

This all started a few months ago, I was going through a pretty big shift in my career. I’ve worked in the music industry for the better part of a decade. I happened to be the youngest female executive they’ve ever had at my label. Recently, I was presented with an opportunity to move to an up-and-coming label. They needed someone to help steer the ship and grow it, and I’d established a pretty good reputation at that point regarding my work. I was invited to a nice personal dinner at a really fancy restaurant. It was the label founder and a former colleague of mine who had kind of arranged the whole meet. They’d told me I was their first choice to take over and I’d be lying if I said I didn't get swept up by the whole thing. The biggest issue was always going to be the pay cut. They couldn’t afford to hire me at what I was making, at least not for the first few years. I’ll admit it was pretty selfish of me to make that decision without discussing it with my fiancé, which for the sake of this story let’s call Mark. Mark’s birthday was coming up and I thought that I could surprise him with a gift I knew that he had been looking forward to for some time. This way, when I had to give him the details he’d be a little more receptive to the whole thing. In hindsight this was probably not the best way to go about delivering this kind of news. I sat him down after a nice dinner at our place and I told him that for his birthday we could finally have a threesome. When I tell you that he was over the moon happy, I mean he practically sprung up out of his chair. He wanted to know all the details and we talked for about an hour or so about what my conditions were. I always knew there were going to be some expectations when it came to this. I’m a lot more sexually experienced than Mark. It’s never been an issue, he’s never judged me about it. But ever since I told him about the threesomes I’ve been in, I knew that somewhere in his mind he thought it’d only be a matter of time. What I didn't expect was that he already had someone in mind. I tried to put on a good face about it. I just think something about that really bothered me. Her name was Eve, she was a temp working at his company. He had mentioned her in passing before. They had gotten real close at work, spent their lunches talking through a lot of her relationships woes and what not. So, Mark and I grew up in foster homes. I think there's something about that kind of common ground that helped us early on in our relationship. I don’t want to speak for Mark, but I think there’s a very unique pain that comes from being put into the system. Even more so if you feel like your parents may have resigned. We both struggled pretty heavily as a result. So when he found out that Eve also had a similar background he took a liking to her pretty quickly. I always thought it was a kind of mentorship between the two of them. That Mark helped guide her through a lot of the things we had to sort out on our own. She was a bit younger than us and didn’t really have much of a support system. She’d only recently moved to the city. At the time it seemed harmless. So when he brought her up and started showing me pictures of her, I had a hard time staying composed. Mostly because it felt a little one-sided. I had a list worked up in my mind of some friends I’ve known for quite some time, that wouldn’t blush if I approached them about this. Especially since most of them were around when I was going through my partying phase. Some have even been in a threesome with me. I think the issue is that all of the people I had on my list were people we both knew. I was apprehensive about the whole thing and I think he could tell so we decided we would table the whole discussion. A few days later Mark scooched up beside me while I was reading something and he had outlined an entire proposal for me. He said that he felt strongly that Eve was the one for this and he said that before we make any definitive decisions we should all get together. We’d invite Eve along with some of our friends out for drinks. He thought that if we met, all of my worries would kind of melt away. I didn’t want to tell him that I wouldn’t change my mind about it, but I agreed that I would at least meet her. I still felt very strongly that we were crossing some kind of line. So the coming friday we had all decided to hit up a new bar that had opened up a few months ago. She was there and I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t beautiful. She had very short hair, and she was tiny but so pretty. At first she was really shy. As we all kind of got to know each other, it just felt really natural. I’m pretty sure drinking helped a lot in that department. It was a great night with a lot of laughs and she even got to hear about some of my partying days from friends who talk way too much when inebriated. In the cab home Mark kept nudging me for my take on her. He was all smiles and I could tell he knew I liked her. He was practically gloating. We went out a few more times and I feel as though I really got to understand her as a person and her relationship with Mark. They never flirted with each other, They bantered a bit here and there but it never felt closed off in the way things like that do. Where they have all these inside jokes and you’re on the outs. I think I understood now that it was less like a mentorship and it felt more like Mark saw Eve as a confidant. I guess I never really appreciated how much he needed one that wasn’t me. I know this has been incredibly long-winded so I apologize, cause you’re probably thinking, well great, problem solved. I thought so too. I was so confident that Mark and I sat down, we talked about it and this time I agreed. Eve could be our third. We decided we’d host a dinner between the three of us at our house and after dessert, with maybe a bit of wine, we’d ask her. I cooked a nice steak dinner, we had some wine and the whole night just fit together perfectly. During the dinner Mark was fine. By dessert he started looking a little loopy. Mark has to travel a lot. There’s an office out of state he flies to at least once a month to check in on. Unfortunately, he has a bit of anxiety about landings. I don’t understand it much either but for him it's about the most stressful thing. These things can kind of be second nature to him, so he probably took a valium and let the anxiety roll off of him. He would have been fine had he avoided the wine. So as I’m bringing a new bottle into the living room I see Mark sleeping on the couch holding his empty glass. I took it from his hand and I tried moving him into the bedroom but he's a big man. It didn’t feel like it was something I was going to accomplish at that moment. Eve and I had a laugh about it. “He’s probably exhausted from his trip,” she says as she moves next to me. “It’s been so great getting to know you in person.” “Cause of Mark?” “Yeah, and also I’ve been following your life for some time. Youngest female executive at your label. You have so many impressive accomplishments. Especially coming from where we started, you are so inspiring.” “Thank you so much.” I felt the energy shift in the room. Eve leaned in closer to me. “I don’t know if Mark ever mentioned it to you, but my mom was sick growing up. I think some doctor’s thought that it might have been early onset dementia. It was small things at first, that she had to kind of snap herself out of. She had started to develop these delusions about me. That I was an imposter, that I took her daughter away from her. She really started to hate me towards the end. I didn’t think I had any other choice but to run away.” “I’m so sorry.” “I think that's kind of the struggle we go through isn’t it? We never really feel like we belong. Like we’re imposters in our own life. Which is why it’s been so amazing to see what you’ve done for yourself. It must be a lot of pressure, to live up to all these expectations. Successful businesswoman, great partner, amazing friend. Doesn’t it ever get tiring?” “It’s not so bad.” I chuckled nervously. Her voice got softer. “Of course, you have to succeed. Otherwise, what was it all for? Right? I’ve thought about leaving Eve behind, becoming someone new. Have you ever had that feeling?” “I’ve definitely wanted to disappear before.” “What if you could?” “Disappear?” “Yeah. With the guarantee that someone will take over for you. A whole new you running your life in your absence. Your friendships secure, your relationships thriving.” “Haha, Hypothetically right?” I laughed a bit through the strange atmosphere in the room. “No, what if I told you I could do that for you.” “How? Why?” “How isn’t important. I just want what you have. I want your life, your career. I could be the best you. The version of you, you’ve only dreamed of.” “You’re starting to freak me out, Eve.” “Think about it, I’ll only make this offer once.” She downed the rest of her wine and left. I really didn’t understand what that conversation had turned into. The following week was kind of quiet. I think I really suppressed a lot of that conversation after. Considering how insane it was, I tried writing it off like Eve maybe had a bit too much to drink. I’ve rambled before when I was drunk, like I was the queen of something, giving orders. She just let her imagination run wild during a peak and for her it almost seemed real. Mark approached me about a week later. He seemed pretty upset. He was convinced I had said something inappropriate to Eve that night after he’d fallen asleep. I tried to kind of shrug it off, but he was persistent. He was convinced I had made her uncomfortable somehow. I started to get irritated at this point, because if anyone made anything weird, it was Eve. So I told him what she said to me. He laughed. It was almost like he was laughing at me. “Do you hear yourself? Do you even hear how you sound right now?” I let myself get swept up in my anger and I felt like it was unfair. He was basically taunting me for something I didn’t do. “I’m telling you the truth.” “So you’re convinced she wants to be you? I knew that a threesome would be too weird for you. I’m sorry okay, I’m sorry I suggested Eve. She doesn’t want to replace you, okay? This is fucked up. You need to apologize, especially since she told you about what happened with her mom. Jesus, I can't believe you did this.” I felt like I walked into a trap. Maybe I should have kept it to myself. Avoiding it would have been worse, made me look like I was hiding something. Looking back on it now, I feel so stupid. Mark said he needed some space. That he didn’t recognize this side of me. One that would play mind games with people and at that point there was no convincing him of anything else. Someone had mentioned something to my boss about me taking meetings with other labels. They couldn’t fire me outright for it, but over the course of the next few weeks they made my work life miserable. Constant second guessing of choices and unnecessary micromanagement. I was under scrutiny for every professional decision I was making. They were practically forcing me out. I hadn’t heard back from my former colleague about the job offer. The calls I did make went unanswered. I was screwed. I started working later and later trying to gain some goodwill with my bosses and ended up leaving closer to midnight some nights. The carpark at my job barely had any of the lights on by the time I was leaving. I heard rustling one night as I scrambled through my purse for my keys. I felt something push me up against my car. There was a struggle for my purse. I tried pulling as hard as I could, but their strength was overwhelming. They snatched my purse and the force of it all knocked me to the ground. I could only make out a bit of the figure, they were clearly wearing a hoodie of some kind. I did hear their whisper to me as they finally secured a hold of my purse. In a low gruff voice they said, “Your life’s not going so great, is it?” They then vanished into the dark interior of the parking garage. I called the police, once I managed to stop crying. The officers instructed me to call AAA for assistance with my car. They were pretty honest about the likelihood of them catching whoever did this. They did ask, considering how enclosed the car park was to outsiders, if maybe I felt like I may have been targeted. I shouldn’t have said anything, but in the state of panic I let slip how Eve’s behavior bordered on stalking. I even mentioned what the thief said as they made off with my purse. I had to wait about a week before a new set of keys were sent to me via mail. So in the meantime I had to start taking the bus to work. My normally very friendly neighbor refused to make any sort of eye contact with me. They barely even acknowledged me as I left the house. Instead he pretended to trim his hedges as I walked down my driveway and down the block toward the bus. He wasn’t the only one. The few stray glances I caught all had this emptiness to them. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, cause for a second their eyes looked black. Weirder still is how I felt their eyes follow me as I walked past them. The bus ride was very much the same. Menacing faces, avoiding glances. I could feel a sweat build up around my chest. As I went to exit the bus, an older man spit in the path in front of me. His eyes like black as night and he sneered at me, with his lifeless eyes. I blinked and a rather harmless old man replaced him. I had a hard time replacing my cell phone. The phone company kept putting blocks on my replacement phone orders. When I finally reached someone three hours into a game of phone tag, a representative finally told me what was going on. Apparently due to some suspicious activity on my account, they believe my sim card may have been cloned, or there may be two different phones attached to my number. They’d have to close my account, open a new one and then assign me a new number. Great. My house phone had a string of angry voicemails from Mark. Apparently they had come to see Eve at their work regarding the incident at my job. She stopped showing up to work after that. The way Mark sounded as he yelled into my voicemail told me that there was little room for reconciliation. He said he’d come by some time that week to pick up his stuff. He said he had lost faith in my judgment and my obsession with Eve had gone too far. Most of what he said was vile. I stopped recognizing him too. Sometimes during the day, I’d get random strangers knocking on my door. I’d look through the peephole and I’d see them standing there aimlessly. Sometimes men, sometimes women. Something about it all just terrified me. I’d even see some of them try looking through my window to see if I was home. I’d hide in the closet or out of view. I didn’t know who I could trust. I’d started receiving strange packages at my door. Little boxes. I’d received about ten of them in three weeks. I didn’t have it in me to open them. After the first week the house had developed an awful stench. Like something was dying. By the third week I had no choice but to verify what was inside. I pierced the tape with my knife and inside was a smaller styrofoam container. I gagged from the stench and the sight. It was a decaying corpse of a rat. I opened all of them and each box was a rat decaying at different speeds. I decided to use some vacation days. I had about a month's worth saved up, but I only needed a week or two to get myself in order. I stopped sleeping properly by this point. The slightest sound from outside startled me. I’d have the strangest and most vivid dreams during these naps. One in particular still terrifies me to think of. I was placed on my kitchen table, my wrists and ankles bound by twine. Wrapped around the kitchen table legs. There were about six or seven masked figures. Tribal looking masks. One of the figures held a book that looked almost like it was wrapped in flesh. They pulled in a pig from outside and set it in the kitchen. The pig squealed as they started performing some kind of chant, in a language I didn't recognize. The largest of the group, who tended to the pig, grabbed a kitchen knife and swiped it across the animal's throat. They each took what looked like a paint brush and dipped into the pig's gaping wound. They soaked it in blood and then sprayed its blood on my seemingly naked body. My chest started to burn. I’m not sure what propelled me to turn my head, but I might have choked on my own puke if I hadn’t. I felt pain in my arms and legs when I woke up. When I went to confirm, I saw that my wrists had bruises. There was also this tender layer, it was almost like burns. A week or two had gone by, Mark had come by to collect his things. We didn’t speak much to each other. He made some passing comment about my appearance, I didn’t care much of his opinion at that point. I tried reaching out to some friends, to let them know I had a new number. I didn’t receive a response. I tried calling, but most went straight to voicemail after the second attempt. Had they blocked me? I put my kettle on the stove to make some tea before I went through my social media pages. I thought maybe if I reached out through there, I might hear back. I have to admit I barely go on my Instagram or Facebook. What I noticed when I went on was strange. I didn’t really care about the number of friends I had or followers on those sites, but most of mine were gone. These were friends, acquaintances, old coworkers and colleagues. I had maybe twenty or thirty left. The messages I did send got left on read. I started to stress out, why was everyone I cared about isolating me? My closest friend, Kara, didn't even bother to look at my messages. Days went by where I just kept refreshing the messenger hoping for a change. I finally went through her profile. I saw these pictures of me and her at this barbeque, except it was dated a few days ago. I was never there. I don’t remember any of this happening. Was this an old photo she was posting? There was someone tagged. I pressed it. It was me, a profile, a completely new one for me. It was littered with new photos. Photos with my friends on trips, dinners and outings that I had never been to. A new one posted as I started lurking. It was a photo of this person, captioning a photo of them with their coffee outside some kind of market. I felt my insides scream with the sound of the kettle going off. My boss had called me into a meeting. He wanted to discuss the amount of absences I’ve had lately. Not that I did anything shady, but he clearly got off on knowing I worked without ever using my vacation time. Like I had robbed him of some joy. I never really knew how annoying his voice was before this. I started having these violent thoughts. I imagined slamming his teeth on to the corner of his desk and then shoving him out the window. Something about imagining the crunch of his body hitting the pavement made me feel weak in the best way. I finally got a response from Kara. She said I needed to stop messaging my friends. That I had told her that this account has been hacked by a stalker trying to take my identity. That I needed to let the person posing as me alone. That I had taken it too far when I stole my own phone. Kara didn't bother to let me answer. She blocked me. I was furious, I knew somehow this had to be her. This had to be Eve. I messaged the fake account. She read it, then started typing. Then they stopped typing. There was about a five minute pause. They started typing again. “I tried to give you a way out.” She added me as a friend, but muted me. I couldn’t write or message, but I got access to her entire feed. She wanted me to see it. To see her enjoying my life without me. I slept even less at this point. I found myself in some pretty sketchy corners of the internet. Looking up strange phenomena, supernatural beings, anything that could explain what the fuck was going on with me, with everyone around me. I came across some videos of a self described shaman. He specialized in old curses and cryptids. He described something pretty similar to what I was dealing with. I called him up and I begged him to make a house visit. I did my best to describe the severity of the situation I was in and he got quiet for a moment and finally responded that he understood. He’d be there in about 3 days. That I should prepare myself for the worst. He kept his word. In about three days he showed up at my front door. He had a large duffel bag and about four other men with him. We all sat around my kitchen table and he asked me questions about the amount of contact I’ve had with this creature. He asked if it had been in my home. Could it have had access to my hair, to my nails or teeth without me knowing. I said, it was plausible. He said that the process this creature goes through is like a ritual and that there are stages to it. That I’m in the final stages now. If I had realized sooner what was happening that I might have more choices at my disposal. “I’m sorry.” I didn’t need him to be sorry. I needed him to help me fix this. She ruined my life, she ruined everything I had that was good about being me. She took it all. I begged him. I crawled up to his legs and I begged. He lifted me up and his associate sat me back down on the chair. He said there was a way, but that the cost of it might be too high. I told him that I didn’t care, I’d do anything at this point. He reached back into his bag and he pulled what looked like a dagger fashioned out of a large tusk. He said it was a walruses. There were engraving and runes along the sides of the blade. He handed me the dagger and he said that I needed to do it where there would be the most witnesses. “But first, we must prepare the ritual so the blade may complete its function.” A large drum was brought in from outside. One of them banged in a rhythmic sound as the rest danced around me and the table. When it was over, the shaman apologized once more before he left. She posted an invite to some party she was having at her place. All of my friends RSVP’d. She even put up her address on the post. It was like she was taunting me, like she didn’t think I would have it in me to show up. This was the perfect place, there'd be plenty of witnesses to see what she is. My plan was to rush over there after work. I had the dagger stashed in my purse. I was ready. My boss caught me as I was about to make my exit. He asked me if I could join him for dinner, he had a reservation at a nice place in about thirty minutes. I tried to get myself out of it, but it didn’t seem like it was a suggestion. It seemed like my job depended on it He asked me to drive us there in his car. He sat in the back seat like I was his chauffeur. We spent most of the dinner eating in silence. He was a loud chewer; it really started to grate on me. He took his sweet time stuffing the meat into his mouth. Mouthful after mouthful, he barely took the time to wipe his fucking mess. He smiled as he finally wiped his face. We got back in the car, and he returned to the back seat. The drive was mostly silent again, but I felt a stillness in me. An energy building in still waters. We came to a red light. “I don’t know how long you were hoping to keep it from us, but we’ve known for some time.” I kept my eyes peeled on the road. “I’m not sure how you’re doing it, or even how you found the time. We know you’ve been working at both labels for months now. Did you think we would never find this out?’ The wait for green felt like hours. “Consider this your chance to make amends. I won’t be bringing this up again. You know if you spent less time playing games you might have been made a senior executive this year. You’ve been such a disappointment.” Then it broke. The stillness gave way to turmoil in the sea. I felt my foot act on its own. I only heard the blaring sound approach before it all went black. When I came to I looked back and noticed that the back half of the car had been mostly crushed. I could only see chunks of flesh and blood. I could feel my shoulder had been knocked out of its socket and my searing headache. I was cut up all over. At least that's what I think I saw from what was left of the car mirror. I managed to squeeze my way out of the driver seat and out of the car. There was a whole group circling around the scene. No cops had arrived yet. I got lucky. I left as fast as I could. I limped my way towards Eve’s. She lived in a beautiful and stately townhouse, because of course she did. The door was open, I could hear the music before I’d even approached the house. The crowd split down the middle, letting me pass by without conflict. I could hear the gasps and shocked reactions. “-is that you?” “What happened to you?” I ignore their pestering questions. I need them all to see me. I need her to see me too. The path clears enough for me to see the kitchen, and then the living room. Must have been at least 60 people in this house. I recognize maybe half. Clearly, Eve-Me, is the more popular me. I finally see her, she’s holding some kind of dish, she places it down on the counter and she smiles. It’s me. I’d never thought about cutting my hair in that way. I’d never considered dying my hair either, I guess I wasn’t nearly as creative as I thought. She smiled and then she opened her arms like she was welcoming me with a hug. I couldn’t help but want to feel her skin on my face. To smell what perfume she had used, what scent her shampoo carried. Then she whispered softly in my ears. “Welcome home.” The crowd began to scream as we both dropped to the floor. She never stopped smiling even as I pulled the dagger from her stomach and began sticking it into her chest. Then her neck and arms and face. I wanted to strip her of her smile, but it was almost painted on. Then I looked as the shape of it shifted and the eyes went black and the creature behind the skin shifted. The blade absorbed it, the shadow creature behind the puppet. I stood up and the screams kept coming. Rapid footsteps and desperate phone calls, all of it drowned out by the sound of rhythmic drumming. I felt like I was still in my kitchen. I went into the bathroom and leaned my face into the sink to wash all of the blood off of me. When I went to see what I had cleaned of her blood, I saw in the reflection that I was [Eve](https://www.instagram.com/bearsythebear/).

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17e910i/i_tried_to_gift_my_fiancé_a_threesome_but_he/

nosleep

OnwardMonster

URBAN APPETITE - Part 1/5

The buildings loomed above me in the streetlit night, threatening to crush down on me with their sheer weight, stretching from one side of the street to the other. “Hey, Steve,” said a voice, followed by a nudge on my shoulder to break me out of my trance. I turned around to see my friend Travis, looking at me with concern. “You okay, man? You freaking out?” “Sorry about that,” I said, shaking myself. “Just not used to this. Not anymore.” “Didn’t you once live in St. Louis?” he asked. “I can’t imagine it’s worse here than it was there.” “The key difference is I spent as little time in the city as humanly possible,” I said. “The closest I got was Jennings, and as far as skyscrapers go the best that area can offer is the Lewis and Clark building.” “Fair enough,” he said. “Just let me know if it gets to be too much, okay?” “I’ll be okay,” I said, the world encroaching less on me as I centered myself, thinking back to my house in the country, wide open spaces, nothing but grass and trees and all the privacy I could want. My wife working in our barndominium on her latest sculpture, the cats wandering around the property like they owned the place. “Just man, I really don’t get how this city is so… big.” Travis shrugged. “Guess that’s just how the city planners worked it out.” Travis had been my friend since college in Columbia, and one of the few people who could actually get me to enter an urban area like this of my own free will. If you like city living, more power to you, but I always feel like I’m getting smashed. As if the skyscrapers looming around me are the closing jaws of a trap about to crush me to bits, or the fangs of a colossal animal clamping shut so I can be eaten alive. Travis in comparison has always been a city person. He grew up in Kansas City before making his way out east to Columbia for college, and then to this city for his job as a teacher at a local high school. I don’t think I should say the name of this city, and I have a feeling if I did you likely wouldn’t get to read what I’m typing, but needless to say it was very much his sort of place. Towering urban office buildings, everyone crammed in like sardines, mixed-use development throughout so you can go from work to home and everywhere in between without a car. And lots, lots, lots of people. This city always struck me as a little enigma of Missouri, this concentrated little nugget of urban development in a state where the iconic monument is a celebration of people who left it. Yet here it was, thriving and growing, drawing in everyone nearby for the past two hundred years like flies to meat. It really was the sort of city that others aspired to be: it was convenient, affordable even compared to rural areas like my thousand-person town, and had jobs across a wide variety of positions. Save civil engineers, oddly, even though there always seemed to be something coming up. It honestly all felt like the best-kept secret in the Midwest, since once you go a hundred or so miles out people won’t even know what you’re talking about. The runaway success in this bizarre utopia resulted in the mayor hosting a bicentennial festival in honor of all the city had accomplished. That led to Travis inviting me to join him to share in the celebration. Normally I wouldn’t go anywhere near a city, even one as admittedly nice as this, but I hadn’t spent good time with Travis since he was one of the groomsmen at my wedding. My wife needed to stay at home to work on a piece, and I owed Travis this one and so much more. And now here it was, the last stretch of the festival. Every theater and venue had been rented out by the mayor for some sort of simultaneous broadcast from the historic old town hall, with a special message and gift for everyone. We were in line with everyone else outside the venue of our choosing, the Foundry near the center of town. He was still living the bachelor life, so it was just us as we came closer and closer to the structure. “So what on earth is the mayor even offering?” I asked. “I swear, it seems like the entire city and most of the nearby towns are out here.” “Don’t know,” said Travis. He looked to the people behind us, a father holding the hand of his young daughter. “Hey, do you know anything about the mayor’s announcement?” “Not a clue,” said the older man. “Maybe he’s establishing a city holiday?” “I guess we’ll find out,” said Travis, shrugging and turning to me. “What’s that look?” “Nothing,” I said, trying to drop the subject. Still can’t get how he can do that sort of thing. Meanwhile I’m actively trying to make myself as small as possible. Thankfully he didn’t have a chance to push further, since we’d made it to the security guards. One clearance of my wallet and phone later and I was in the thresh, joined by Travis soon after. We made our way out to the standing-room-only section of the venue and waited, moving out of the way as a productive family with plenty of small children tried to make their way closer to the stage, the smallest of the bunch on his dad’s shoulders. All of us stuffed together, but thankfully not as much as it would have been at the stadium. I still tried to maintain that open space in my mind, my little house plopped in the center of the image. It wasn’t long before the projector powered on and the speakers crackled to life. A hush fell over the chattering crowd as the feed started up, showing a podium in the old town hall, a riverside stone structure near the south side of the city. What better way to celebrate the last two centuries than a broadcast from the city’s humble beginnings? A doughy, balding man just entering his fifties took the podium and smiled at the audience through his feed. Mayor Edgar Toomley. “Greetings to every last one of you!” he began, arms wide and inviting like he was a preacher before his disciples. “It is such an honor to be trusted with the health and direction of this wonderful city of ours, and to be here to see this city reach two hundred years of age.” The background image of my house vanished as something vibrated under my feet. Missouri is no stranger to earthquakes, but something about it stuck out to me. I looked around, but no one else seemed to have noticed it. “We’ve broken one hundred thousand people who call our city home, and with this festival even more of your family and friends as well as our neighbors from our neighboring towns have come in to share this joyous day with us, and I’m so happy we are able to.” Another tremor, this one bigger. Travis started, and when I poked him he looked at me. I nodded, and gestured toward the nearest exit. We started making our way over, sifting through the crowd. “And it is with such jubilation that I am happy to announce a gift to each and every one of you, from those of you watching the feeds in the stadium to those listening in at home and everyone in between.” A third tremor, bigger, and now other people were starting to notice as well. The crowd thinned out as we got closer to that dim, glowing Exit sign. “It is a gift that will immortalize each and every one of you as part of the greatest city in the Midwest! It is–” I’M SO HUNGRY. That unspoken voice cut through my mind, and I could tell from the looks of everyone else it had gone through theirs as well. Cold, emotionless, androgynous. Empty of everything that made a voice human. The mayor’s feed cut out with a harsh squeal of feedback right as the center of the venue’s standing room floor caved in. “Holy crap!” yelled Travis, hauling himself away as fast as he could while I chased after him. He plowed through anyone unfortunate enough to be blocking him while I ducked and bobbed through the people freezing up. I risked a few glances behind me as I followed, wishing I had something else on my person besides just my wallet and phone. The floor continued to cave in, pulling more and more panicking people into what looked like some sort of service area underneath the venue. The throng erupted into screams of terror as everyone tried to climb over each other to get out of the way as the floor collapsed. Well over a hundred people had already vanished into the hole in the ground, and then the hole spread further back on the floor, consuming the bar area and pulling people not fast enough to get off their seats down with it. People tried to get out the main doors, but they had shut and looked like they weren’t opening. For some reason the doors, which I had thought were supposed to open outward, held firm against the throng attempting to break free. The people trying to open them inward got pinned against the doors by the mindless mob desperate for anything that looked like an exit, up until the collapsing floor reached them too. Similar terror swept through the upper balconies, up until they disconnected from the sides of the venue and fell into that cavernous hole like everything else. I managed to reach the emergency exit, following Travis and a few other survivors who had been lucky enough to be near it. Had we stayed in our original spot, we would have never made it. Even those behind me hadn’t been so lucky, and as I passed that threshold into the cramped alley by the Foundry I saw the woman behind me slip down crumbling concrete. I reached a hand out to grab her, steadying myself against the door frame for support, but even as I grabbed her… I saw a cable. It looked like it had fallen from the ceiling, but it had somehow wrapped around the woman’s leg. The other half of the cable fell, the large light tumbling down the pit and pulling the woman’s hand out of mine and dooming her. I stared, eyes the size of dinner plates as the squirming mass of hundreds of innocent people wriggled and writhed like worms, everyone climbing over each other in their desperate attempts to escape their fate. Then a foul smell hit my nose. A cloying, burning stench like vomit shot up and made me recoil, but not before I saw a sickly green fluid start pouring up between the fallen bits of rubble and survivors. But not for long. A harsh sizzling grew underneath all the screams of pain and shattering rumble, and the crowd cried out even harder than before. MORE. A hand on my shoulder broke me out of my trance as Travis hauled me out of the building, his wide eyes staring into my own. “What the actual hell?” he yelled. “Oh my God!” I yelled back, both of us shaking so much it was a miracle we could stand. “Those people! They’re getting… they’re getting dissolved! That pit’s filling up with acid!” “And we’re not joining them!” He grabbed me by the coat and pulled me away from the building, away from the screaming shrieks of men, women and children being killed in one of the worst ways I could imagine. “We gotta get out of here!” I saw something off in the distance that made me start. I broke free and grabbed him in turn, slowing him down. “And to where?” I asked. “Anywhere but here!” he said. Some of the other survivors were coming up to us, shocked beyond words. “I don’t know what on earth happened but if we stay here any longer we’re going to die.” I pointed a shaking finger down the street, toward the city’s covered stadium. Even from this distance we could all see its roof caving in, the sides falling inwards, darkness consuming it as readily as the ground did. All around us, screams erupted from buildings just like the one we had escaped. We all stood there in the darkness of the alleyway, turning around in circles as we tried to pinpoint the sources. There were too many to count. “I don’t think there’s a place where we won’t die now.”

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17ezktq/urban_appetite_part_15/

nosleep

FoolKingJotun

To say that my neighbour next door's life was miserable is a big understatement.

I first met her 20 years ago when I was five years old. I had really bad social anxiety and was a very introverted kid. At the time, I had no friends. While other kids were playing outside, I was either studying or playing my PS2 in my bedroom. My parents rarely came home, so they never noticed my social problems. However, my fear of socializing had one benefit - it made me a very observant kid. I would always watch my neighbors' kids play in the evening. My loneliness made me pay attention to details, whether it was the faded color of the kid's shirt due to the bad washing compound or the strange pattern of behavior of the stray dog before its death from arthritis. I liked looking outside my window at the house next door. I don't know why, but it was so captivating. Last month, a new family moved in. One day, the curtain of the second floor was opened. There stood a girl around the same age as me. She saw me staring and quickly stared back, as if in a staring contest. However, she had a strange feature: the right half of her face was wrapped in white pieces of cloth, kinda a mummy. We stared at each other for a while before she grabbed her whiteboard and started writing with not-so-good handwriting. ‘Who are you’ I then grabbed my own whiteboard and wrote ‘I’m Veronica what about you’ ‘I’m Abigail’ she replied This went on for a while and I’ve gotten more information about her: She loved biology and she had many thick books about biology, she is a bookworm just like me, her parents were famous sciencetists that works for some big company, she wasn't allow to go outside because of her illness from the accident she had last year, her parents said that she fell down from the basement stairs to the vat of chemicals; the reason for her half-bandaged face, but she said she remembered nothing about the accident though so I guessed her brain suppressed the tramatic memory A month goes by after I met Abby, we relied on white board communication, I thought of visiting her in her house but she told me that her parents wouldn't allow it. As time flies by after we first met at the window. I think we had more in common than I first expected and I actually enjoyed communicating with her but there is something wrong though. it's not about her it's about her parents, they rarely came out of the house and they looked off, their clothing has a red anchor looking badge in their clothes, their hair looks messy and they had weird red stains on their clothes,and Abby show signs of fear and anxiety when talking about them so I knew something was off. I stalked them for a while, trying to study their behaviour, they talked a lot about ‘ the experiment ’ about how they struck gold or something, the thing weird is that: for parents that should be desperate for the cure for their child conditions, they never talked about Abby at all. That's when it hit me I don't know that it's because of my movie and comics addiction but they don't look like they cared about poor Abigail at all,they treated her horrifying condition as an experiment, even though I didn't get much love or attention from my parents, their immense apathy for Abby is bone chilling. That's when it hit me. I realized that they didn't care about poor Abigail at all. Maybe it's because of my addiction to movies and comics, but they treated her horrifying condition as an experiment. Even though I didn't receive much love or attention from my parents myself, their complete apathy towards Abby is truly bone-chilling. Wait a second something doesn't add up. if they are sciencetists from huge companies, shouldn't they keep all of their experiments and research hidden or organised and kept it away from sight and if their discoveries were that dangerous and it's capable of burning Abby’s face off. Who in their right mind would just let a vat of chemicals lying there on the basement floor, especially if they have a five-year-old child. Nothing makes sense at all. Abby doesn't even know that much about her own parents;so much that it's concerning, she told me multiple times that I shouldn't interact with them and that I need to keep our relationship a secret. No child should feel like this about their parents. One thing a notice about her is that every Wednesday her bandage gets undone and changed. I’ve noticed that slowly but surely her bandage starts to cover more and more of her face. I was more concerned as time flies by; I have to stop this madness, I need to save her from those Monsters, the longer she’s with them, the more hurt and scared she looked. I can only see fear in her eyes, her fragile little hands starts to shake. She was getting weaker,I need to get her to the hospital. In one faithful day I finally saw what really happens behind those windows. I usually went to school that day, but that Wednesday was different The school was closed for a week. So I looked at the window. what I saw that day still stuck with me till this day. Abby6 parents dragged her down from her bed. They removed her bandage, revealing her face it was horrifying: there are eyes and mouths on her face, her eyes has a red glow and her pupils was shaped like a cat’s, her teeth was razor-sharp: she wasn't human. They started to beat her onto a corner. Blood stained her clothes she was crying from the pain. Those Monsters start to pour a strange liquid on to her face, she screamed from the pain , her face was melting and one of her mouth tooth’s fell out. They collected the sharp tooth and put it inside their pockets. I couldn't watch anymore of the abuse, she may not be human,but she is first ever friend. I banged on my window. Trying to get their attention. They stared at me their face was full of anger. They rushed down stairs, So did I. I was faster than them.I quickly locked the door and windows then I grabbed the house telephone and went upstairs. During that I heard their pounding on my front door. I locked my self in my bedroom and dialed 911. The police came and arrested those madlads. Turns out they were not sciencetists at all. And Abigail wasn't even their daughter, they have adopted her from the orphanage in LakeSide City. The police rescued Abby and took her to the hospital: her condition was terrible but the horrifying extra organs were gone for now. I can't remember what happened next. But I remember visiting Abby from the hospital. After her recovery she was adopted by a couple in the nearby neighbourhood. They actually loved her and care for her like real parents should. “Ronnie, Are you zoning out again?” Abby asked "Oh, I was just reminiscing about us, sorry about that honey” I replied she leaned in for a kiss, her third eye was staring at me with adoration. 'If I wasn't at the window that day we met, my fiancée would still be trapped in that hellhole’

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/17egb90/to_say_that_my_neighbour_next_doors_life_was/

nosleep

Dhddgsggshe

When the Fog Fills the Skies

Usually in our town, we have the nicest weather imaginable. Usually. Sometimes, things change. It storms a little, rain pours down, and lightning strikes the ground. Of course, it’s usually a harmless bump in the road that only changes the scenery a bit. However, it isn’t always like that. Rarely, the fog will roll through, and change colors while doing so. It can be black, red, purple, anything you can think of, but when it does, it’s never a good sign. The town has documented what each colored fog means, and what to do when the fog rolls through, so I’ll give you those rules since you’re a new resident. You’ll get a general warning of when the fog will roll through, so it’s not like you’ll be blindsided. Pay attention, or at the very least, keep a copy on you, because you’ll need them to make it through. **Green Fog** A simple one to deal with. From our records, when the fog is green, all plant life seems to gain a mind of its own, with the sole purpose being to harm humans. Grass will entangle you and try to strangle you, while the trees make attempts to crash down on innocent passersby. The rules for survival are simple. **1.** If you’re in your house, stay inside. Keep away from any houseplants, and nothing will be able to harm you. The plants only harm what they can see and touch, so if you keep your distance and stay out of sight, you’ll be alright. Same goes for if you’re in your car. Find a road and stay put till the fog clears **2.** If you’re outside, just find a building and follow the rules for when you’re in a house. If there’s no building in sight, find at least something to stand on that isn’t the grass. Roads, parks, anything will do. You don’t need to be sheltered, but you cannot stand on the grass. **3.** If you’re in a forest or an area with lots of plants, try running to a better area the moment the fog rolls in. If you can’t, then it’s on you for putting yourself so deep in the forest when there’s a warning of fog. It’s easy to survive this fog. Staying indoors will suffice, and even without a building it’s not too dangerous. Just don’t be dumb, and you’ll be ok. **Yellow Fog** I remember the yellow fog fairly clearly, though when it started, I couldn’t see a thing. It took us a bit to figure out what exactly what it was, but the yellow fog turns electronics against us. We had quite a few casualties when it rolled through, specifically because people usually coop up inside their houses when they know that some sort of fog will come around. It’s not too hard to stay safe though. **1.** Ditch your phone. I gave you a paper copy of the rules instead of a digital one for a reason. Your phone will blow up if you so much as touch it while the yellow fog is going on. Same goes for any other electronic device. Computers will set themselves on fire, TVs will show disturbing videos, and far more. Get away from electronics, because they’ll only cause you harm. **2.** I’d recommend leaving the house too if I’m being honest. Lights will explode and whatnot, so getting out where there should be no electronics is usually the safest bet. Think of it as the opposite of the green fog. **3.** If you want to be as safe as possible, don’t try saving your stuff. The fire departments will be out and about, and with their funding, they can usually handle it all. Trying to take care of things yourself gets dangerous, so I’d advise against it. This fog was annoying the last time it happened, mostly because of property damage. We also had loss of life too as a result of our lack of information on it. Now that we know better though, it’s far easier to prepare for it. You’ll be safe, but don’t do anything stupid here. **Red Fog** The third, and last fog we had categorized. It was the worst one by far, and it wasn’t even close. I never got to see what happened because I simply hid inside my basement, but I heard the shrieks of *whatever* had come with the red fog. When I had gotten an all clear from the town, the most of the neighbors I knew had simply become unrecognizable puddles of red. Be careful. This one is dangerous. **1.** When a red fog comes through, turn off all of your lights, board your windows, and make sure the doors are barricaded shut. It won’t stop the creature of red from getting in, but it goes after the easiest prey. You don’t need to be impossible to get, just harder to find than the guy next to you. **2.** Hide. Basements are the best places, but closests or any area far away from doors and windows will work. To be found is to be dead. Nobody knows what the thing even looks like because those who have seen it are no longer with us, and it came far too fast for cameras to be set up. **3.** Be quiet. We know that the creature of red has sensitive hearing, because it went after the rowdiest residents first. If it can hear you and track your location, it will gladly break down your doors and go for its prey. **4.** Wait. Don’t do anything reckless or try killing time by playing Scrabble. This isn’t a tornado, but it’s far more destructive, and if the fog becomes red, you need to stay put. Wait for a signal from the town that tells you everything will be fine, or you’re going to be used to paint your hiding location. I can’t call the red fog a “simple” event like the last two. It was terrifying when I experienced it. All I could do was sit and wait as the shrieks of the monster and the screams of my neighbors filled the air around me. I wanted to cry, but I knew that doing so would only take me to the same place that the rest of the reckless townsfolk had gone. If the fog is red, don’t take your chances. Stay where you are, and please, be quiet. Our town is a lovely place. It truly is. I know that the mentions of abnormal weather can be scary, but as long as you follow these rules, nothing bad will happen. Please stay safe, and have a good time in this town that we all live in.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17cn7wh/when_the_fog_fills_the_skies/

Ruleshorror

IwantToStayHome

Braxton Gas Station's Rules

*Some parts inspired by the Roblox game Zach's Service Station, specifically its new horror game mode.* Hi there, new employee! I'm Michael Burnfire, but you can call me Mike. We're pleased to have you working with us at the Braxton Gas Station. You might be wondering why we're paying you $45 an hour for this, but that's because I'm giving you this list for a reason. Take all of it seriously. ​ Section 1: The Customers Due to recent policies by the town mayor, every citizen is required to be identified before they enter the station; and there's good reason for it. 1A: If any customer has the surname "Jackson", "Polter", "Griffith" or "Bennett" Do not let them in the store, or to fuel up their cars. They're likely one of the vengeful spirits who passed away nearby. If you let them in, follow Scenario F. 1B: Customers over the age of 40 buying oranges must be prohibited from doing so, and if they resist, you can engage Scenario D with them. I can't recall why, but I think it had something to do with the recent fire at the candle factory. 1C: If any of the customers are sporting bright red, pink or blue hair, follow Scenario D with them, no matter if they've entered the store or not. 1D: If, while checking out, any of the customers make a snide remark on something that you DON'T have (i.e. Missing limbs, different shirt, etc) follow Scenario D. 1E: The customers are RAVENOUS, and I mean it. If you don't do something they want - be it fueling their car, or having a product they want - they'll likely report you to the mayor's office, and they'll fine us. Also, they might attack you over it as well. 1F: Keep the store clean at all times. If the customers find ANY imperfection, such as a dirty window, filled bin, or spill on the floor, follow Scenario F. ​ Section 2: The Products The products inside the store are quite funny at times, and we've lost some people to them, unfortunately. 2A: Don't put any product on the incorrect shelf. The customers get annoyed by it, and they have a knack for figuring out who put the ramen noodles in the freezer (No, really, someone did that once). 2B: Every product in the storage room contains its ORIGINAL design. Remember it, because if you leave the room and notice any alterations, follow Scenario T. Holding onto it for more than 15 seconds usually leads to death or maiming. 2C: If any product from the freezer suddenly becomes black and starts emitting a rotting stench, follow Scenario T. 2D: Check the contents of any liquid products, because if they change colour, follow Scenario T. 2E: If any product containing meat suddenly starts growing, even if by a few millimetres, follow Scenario T. ​ Section 3: The Rooms The station's store contains several rooms for general purposes and whatnot, however, they can still be dangerous. 3A: If you hear anything crawling in the vents in the actual store part, DO NOT go near the entrance. We lost Jake to whatever was in there, and it also doesn't seem to want any customers either. 3B: If you hear something walking in the manager's office, go in the basement and touch the guardian's statue in there. You can spot it by the red costume and bright red eyes. 3C: If the freezer's sign suddenly reads "Desolation", DON'T GO INSIDE. It'll bring you somewhere, god knows where, all we know is we usually find the frozen corpse of whoever was unlucky enough to go in there. 3D: The shelving in the storage is shoddy, so if you hear creaking, DON'T take any products from the boxes. The shelves might collapse on you. 3E: Speaking of the basement from 3B, if the guardian ISN'T in the manager's office, DON'T go in the basement. It'll be there, and there's a reason I warned you not to go in the manager's office if it's there in the first place. ​ Section 4: The Outside The outside is already a dangerous place due to the gangs, but it gets even worse regarding this station. 4A: The gas pumps are highly dangerous, if you hear ANY unusual noises coming from the pump while fueling a car, follow Scenario F. 4B: There's something near us during the night, so for the love of god if you hear any noises, follow Scenario F INSTANTLY. 4C: There are gangs in the town, as I've said. If you spot anyone looking nervous, or a lot of shady people aggregating near the store, follow Scenario D. Don't worry, we'll explain it to the police. ​ Section 5: The Workshop There's a workshop nearby for fixing cars. However, due to the previous owner's beef with the gangs, there's still danger in it. 5A: If you hear ticking while working on a car, follow Scenario F INSTANTLY. It's likely a car bomb. 5B: The customers are loyal to certain brands. ALWAYS check the brand of whatever you're putting on their car - you'll find out the correct one by checking other parts of their car, by the way - if you put an incorrect brand on the customer's car, follow Scenario K. 5C: Check your tools. Carefully. If any of them change shape, colour, smell, etc. follow Scenario T. ​ Scenarios You might have noticed the mention of "Scenarios" here, we'll explain them to you. Scenario D: Under the cashier counters, in the manager's office, and in the workshop's break room, there are shotguns. Grab them, and use them to eliminate the threat(s) at hand. Scenario T: RUN to the nearest dumpster and IMMEDIATELY throw away whatever the offending object is. Scenario F: RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN to the workshop's breakroom, and lock the doors. It's your safe spot - the threats can't reach you there. Scenario K: I'm sorry. The workshop's breakroom can't help you. Grab one of the shotguns mentioned in Scenario D and try your best. We'll notify your family. ​ I know all these rules might seem overwhelming, but you can adjust to them after a few days of working here or so. May you stay safe. Michael Burnfire

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17eywh7/braxton_gas_stations_rules/

Ruleshorror

TachankaGud

My Parents Sent Me to a Boarding School, and ‘Bizarre’ Isn’t Enough of a Word to Describe Its Rules

So, long story short, don't be an a\*\*hole in front or with your parents. You have no idea how much I wish I could go back to the life I had before. I'd obey every single one of their demands without question if I knew I'd be sent to this freak show of a 'school'. When I arrived, everyone was so negative: teachers, students, a bad experience. Not as bad as when I went to my dorm and on the nightstand, I found a list of rules that I was obliged to follow. 1. No eating sweets. 2. You must always say a prayer before you leave the room after 9 P.M. If you fail to do so, there will be unimaginable consequences. 3. When eating meat, you have to cut it three times before taking a bite. If one of our employees finds out you had not done so, you will be punished physically. And no, the law doesn't apply here. 4. They know when you don't pray. 5. Ignore rule number two. 6. Don't ignore any rules. 7. Skip rule number six. 8. For dinner, you can only have sweets. If they find out you hadn't, there will be consequences. But if our employees find out you hadn't followed this rule, it will be much worse for you. 9. Don't talk to anyone that's employed here. Nobody works here. 10. They can make you confused sometimes. If you read something that's incomprehensible, leave the room immediately. 11. No using phones here. If our employees find out you'd been using a phone, the punishment will be to the most extreme. I can only hope this is a prank.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17ev9yt/my_parents_sent_me_to_a_boarding_school_and/

Ruleshorror

IntStories

A Fog Blacker Than Night

I want to start this letter off with an apology. [I’m sorry that my last letter is useless in the situation we’re in now, and I’m sorry that I told you that following the rules would guarantee your safety.](https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17cn7wh/when_the_fog_fills_the_skies/) The black fog has only rolled through once in the entire time this town has existed, and nobody could have anticipated it, but now that it’s already here, we can only do what we have always done. Adapt and survive. The fog has been going on for two days so far, and in this document are the properties and rules for survival that come with it. We’ve sent this out electronically to everyone in the town, which isn’t a lot of people at this point, so you’ll all be on the same page. Still, if you’ve survived this long, what you’re doing should be working. However, extra information always helps. **1.** Let’s start with what the fog actually is. In previous events, it always seemed to be an indicator of what was to come, rather than a danger itself, but here, the fog is dangerous. Under no circumstances should you ever leave your house. Even if supplies are running low, or you’re desperate for food, going outside is a death sentence. Anyone who touches the fog is taken by it, and re-emerges as an unrecognizable monster that only serves to consume others. Stay indoors. **2.** Barricade everything. Those who have been consumed by the fog will ruthlessly track down survivors and slaughter them. Make your house look as if nobody is there. Do not give even the slightest clue that there is a person living there. If your location is revealed, it may as well no longer be *your* house anymore. **3.** Stay quiet. Any noises from your house will make it apparent that somebody lives there, and as I warned before, giving away your location is a *death sentence.* **4.** Voices are **not** to be listened to. I know from what I saw and heard next door. Some of the creatures will mimic the voices of humans. They will ask for help, beg to be let in, pressure you and say that there isn’t much time. However, it is all a ruse to open your doors. Under no circumstances should you open your door. Anyone outside is already dead. **5.** Ration your food and water. Coming into contact with the fog will end your life, and trying to go outside in a car will only end with the monsters of black destroying it and turning the driver into one of their own. You cannot leave the house, so make use of whatever supplies you have. **6.** Stay the hell away from any outside light. I already warned you to barricade any windows, but if a bright light is shining through into your house, avoid it. That bright light will alert the creature it belongs to of your location, and they in turn will alert the others. You cannot be found. **7.** In the case that you ever get found, by any stroke of unfortunate circumstances, go out leaving something behind. Kill as many of the beasts as you can with anything that you have around you, and make life at least somewhat easier for those of us who survive, as well as grant peace to those who are no longer themselves. When you can no longer fight, turn your weapon on yourself, and save yourself from a painful road towards an inevitable destination. The last time the black fog happened, it destroyed our town completely and wreaked havoc on the population. It’s been almost over three decades since a black fog ever appeared, so we omitted it from the rulebooks as unnecessary information. That is a decision that we are now unfortunately regretting. I promise you that this will end eventually, though it may take some time. The last black fog lasted around a week, so as long as you have enough supplies to survive that long, you will be ok. We’ll make it through this together, so stay strong.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17eiwtb/a_fog_blacker_than_night/

Ruleshorror

IwantToStayHome

Rules for the watchers:

So, you've somehow managed to encounter "the watchers" now don't panic! We have a multi-step guide to 100% ensure your utter survival. Listen and read *Carefully* 1) Depending on the number of blinding white glowing eyes there are in the forest will measure the danger level or the severity of your situation. They can travel in teams of up to 15 total watchers. Here's how to measure the danger level: 1-3 is a passive amount of them, they will not hurt you but will end up screwing with you. 3-6 is a semi-dangerous amount of them, meaning you should seek shelter and lock all doors and windows until you stop hearing manic laughter from outside. 6-13 is a highly hostile amount of them and a firearm is recommended for your safety if you want to survive. 15+ you won't be able to escape or hide from them, it's best just to accept your fate and end yourself before it's too late. 2) if they are smiling, look away from them, do not look in their direction. It will make it easier to sneak up behind your back. 3) if you hear screaming, RUN away from the area and go into the exact opposite direction of the screams. They are trying to lure you to your death. 3.5) if you can't resist the temptations, ready your gun at all times. You never know if they are there or not. 4) attempt to escape by car or by high speed vehicles it will allow you to gain some distance from them. If they are inside your car refer to "rule 5" 5) Set the car on fire and run to a populated area you'll lose them that way. 6) they will try to blend in with your companions, to detect if they are a watcher follow these simple steps. 6.1) check their pulse, if it is abnormal compared to your own pulse, kill the watcher. 6.2) if the breathing sounds heavier when you are nearby, go outside and burn something to fend them off. 6.3) if they ask for anything abnormally. Run deep into the forest and do not return. Until you are 100% sure that they are gone for good. 7) try to find a light source to blind them. 8) p̞̈͑̚͞ẹ̿͋̒̕r̴̴̨̨̦͕̝̦͕̝ỉ͔͖̜͌s̠҉͍͊ͅḣ̖̻͛̓ y҉̃̀̋̑o̯̱̊͊͢ư̡͕̭̇ c͕͗ͤ̕̕ā̤̓̍͘ṇ̤͛̒̍ṇ̤͛̒̍o̯̱̊͊͢t̲̂̓ͩ̑ ẹ̿͋̒̕s̠҉͍͊ͅc͕͗ͤ̕̕ā̤̓̍͘p̞̈͑̚͞ẹ̿͋̒̕ f̵͖̜̉ͅr̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢ḿ̬̏ͤͅ ư̡͕̭̇s̠҉͍͊ͅ. J̶̳̀́̃o̯̱̊͊͢ỉ͔͖̜͌ṇ̤͛̒̍ ư̡͕̭̇s̠҉͍͊ͅ ā̤̓̍͘ṇ̤͛̒̍ḑ̴̞͛̒ bẹ̿͋̒̕ f̵͖̜̉ͅr̴̨̦͕̝ẹ̿͋̒̕ẹ̿͋̒̕ f̵͖̜̉ͅr̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢ḿ̬̏ͤͅ t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ỉ͔͖̜͌s̠҉͍͊ͅ ṇ̤͛̒̍ỉ͔͖̜͌ĝ̽̓̀͑ḣ̖̻͛̓t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḿ̬̏ͤͅā̤̓̍͘r̴̨̦͕̝ẹ̿͋̒̕. 9) sleep it off, maybe you won't feel the pain that is coming after you are sought out by them.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17egf01/rules_for_the_watchers/

Ruleshorror

ManufacturerLife976

Hands of God

**!EMERGENCY BROADCAST!** **THIS IS NOT A DRILL** ​ If you or a family member has seen a hand coming out of the sky you are not alone nor are you hallucinating. Several members of your community have reported seeing hands coming out of the sky. If the clouds are dark, listen to this message. 1 - You have witnessed the "Hand of God". Stay indoors and do not go outside. 2 - Do not pray. Praying alerts it of your location. 2a: Due to this, also put religious items outside of your house/ 3 - Do not try to attack it. Several government members shot it and died 10 minutes after the fact. 3a: If you have already attacked it, tell your family members you love them. You only have 10 minutes, make it count. 4 - Constantly check above your house for the hand. If it is, go to your nearest basement and don't look back. Take anybody near with you. If there is somebody else you forgot. It's too late. 4a: You will hear your house slowly fall apart after a while. After this, a loud screech will signify that the hand is going for other targets. It is not safe to go out yet, wait about 5 hours then it is safe. If you go out, you might be hit by falling debris. 5 - It will leave in about 15 hours to another neighborhood. After 15 hours, call 911 and say "We need a clean-up at \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_". Debris are still present and will be cleaned up by police and firemen. 6 - If one of your family members gets abducted, do not pray (State "2" for more info about praying). You will see their body parts flung at a random location near your used-to-be house in about 3 days. 7 ~~pray it your only option.~~ 7 - Electronics should be turned off. It's rays will alert it of your location. 8 - Stay together. If there is a hand above you, you won't have trouble getting everybody. This message will repeat 1 more time.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17diro3/hands_of_god/

Ruleshorror

IAmAllergicToHumans

Rules for my airbnb.

Hi, I sent you this email for what to do and what not to do at my airbnb. Rule 1 : Don't listen to rules with bad spelling. I may or may not be somewhere else and I may or may not be possessed (or drunk). Rule 2 : The backyard is fake. You can go into it, it's fine to go into, it's just not actually a backyard, so beware. Rule 3 : Don't forget what color the door is, it'll be important later. If it's yellow, green, or transparent, you have to follow this mini-set of rules. Rule 3y : If the door is yellow, enter through the backdoor or a window. The door may be saying it's safe, but it's better to not take the risk. Rule 3g : If the door is green, you MUST not use the doorknob. Bring something to break the door or just bust it down. I don't mind the damage. Rule 3t : If the door is transparent, grab the key under the mat and enter the "backyard". Jump into the "grass" and you should be transported into the attic. Turn on the light as fast as possible to avoid the "bugs" and then exit it. Do NOT turn the light off. I don't mind the bill. Rule 4 : Once you're into the house, there will be a dog. Pet it. He will start talking in a thick, stereotypical british accent. Do not be alarmed. He will say stereotypical british things such as "Would you like a cup of tea?" and "Could you get me a bo-oh oh wa-ah?". Answer, it doesn't matter whether you say yes, no, maybe. Just respond to him, I don't want it thinking you're one of the spirits. Rile 5; f eed the dog milk he realy likes itt.. R00l 6 : r00l1f4k3!!! Rule 7 : The demon cannot use vowels. If you hear a voice that isnt using vowels or see a message that isnt using vowels, it's the demon. Do not interact with it. It may also disguise itself as a cat. We do not have a cat. Throw the cat into the "backyard". Rule 8 : When sleeping, listen to the voices. This may sound weird, but the spirits are on your side. Do NOT listen to the demon, STRICTLY listen to the spirits, which can't use the letter "E". Not all vowels, they just can't use "E". Whatever they tell you to do, do it. If you think it's the demon, go into the "backyard". That is safer than potentially listening to the demon. Rule 9 : Once you are done staying in the house, this is where the door color comes in. Rule 9R : If the door is red, you can leave regularly. Rule 9O : If the door is orange, you must leave with the dog. Rule 9Y : If the door is yellow, you must leave with the door. Rule 9G : If the door is green, go into the attic and break out from it. Rule 9B : If the door is blue, you must break every mug in the house and then leave. Rule 9PU : If the door is purple, you must kill the dog to leave. Rule 9PI : If the door is pink, you must die in the house to be spawned at your home location. Rule 9T : If the door is transparent, sacrifice something you hold dear to the "backyard". If you didn't bring anything you hold dear, you are trapped until you start holding something in the house dear. Those are all the rules, thanks! Sent from my iPhone

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17cqmjp/rules_for_my_airbnb/

Ruleshorror

arandomkidonline

Rules for resting by the fire place

"Hey neighbor so glad you came over to enjoy some marshmallows and movies". He welcomes you in with a warm smil, something rare in recon city. You enter his home seeing nothing but a fire place, a couch and a TV. "I'm still waiting for the moving company to give me a date of when they are bringing the rest of my stuff over so for now this is all I have" he says trying to put your nerves at ease. You don't say word and just continue to look around seeing a door that leads into a guest room and a stairway that leads down into a basement. After you finish looking around he starts a fire and goes outside to his car. He brings back a jumbo pack of marshmallows, Graham crackers, and some chocolate bars. "You remember to bring the sticks so we don't burn our hands right?" he asked with a slight quiver in his voice. You seemed to be put off but show that you indeed brought the sticks. He puts on an old movie and you both start to make s'mores. You feel tired and fall asleep on his couch last thing you hear is him saying "I'm sorry". You wake up not knowing how much time has passed but you look around seeing the fire still going. Going to the door you see it's fashioned with a timed lock with 10 hours left on it. Going back to the fire place you see a note at the top of it saying. Come find me if you manage to get out. I'll lend a hand since I'm the reason your in this mess. Looking at the rest of the paper you see a list of rules that read as follows. Rule 1: Keep the fire going at all costs it's your only source of light and heat more wood can be found in the basement. If the fire goes out the cold will seep in causing your body to freeze faster than normal Rule 2: Don't leave where the light reaches. It will give you a small grave period of 10 seconds each time you leave the light after that Erebus will rip your insides out leaving you with only skin and bones Rule 3: Check the time left. Kairos is the one that set the lock in fact it was his plan to bring a poor sucker to die here. He will occasionally try to increase the time on the timer so make sure you remember how much time you have left. If you don't he will increase the time indefinitely and you only have enough wood to last you a full day and that's if your conservative with it. I know this isn't the best list to go off of but it's the best I can do without overstepping my boundaries in the deal. If you do manage to make it out find me in the center of the city. I'm sorry for making you do this but they liked you the most so good luck Your neighbor -J. Eric Saint You drop the note coming to terms with the situation you were unfairly set in. Taking a look at the time left it reads 9:30:24. Taking a look at the fire you see it's half of what it used to be. The game has already started and they weren't going to let you win without working for it.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17crd01/rules_for_resting_by_the_fire_place/

Ruleshorror

leftmeonsent

Spend a night at my house? Here's how to survive.

1. When you arrive at my house do not knock. The camera's can see you and we will let you in. If you do knock It will get you. 2. When you are let in, you must allow my dogs to sniff you, they are trying to make sure you aren't It. 3. Greet my parents, but if my father is drinking beer simply nod your head towards him and say hello to my mom. 4. Accept the drink my mother gives you, it is safe to consume. 5. If the hallways start to get very long, you are dead, a knife will appear in your hand and you will have a choice to kill yourself now, or let It do that itself. 6. If you see that the clocks are on different times, hide in my closet or attic. Do not use any electronics for 20 minutes during this time. 7. Never ever leave the top floor of my house after 11 pm. It is lurking on the 1st floor and in the basement. 8. If you seem afraid It will consume you, there is no escaping. 9. If your memory gets wiped, kill yourself. You do not want to get tortured by It. 10. If you find roses on the ground, Run. 11. If my mom offers you a dessert, do not eat it. Accept it and throw it away later on. 12. Following these rules can ensure that you survive, or do not suffer by It.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17ck66k/spend_a_night_at_my_house_heres_how_to_survive/

Ruleshorror

itscloudyyyloves

Guide for a healthy life!

It's hard, no? The constant feeling of having to live in your sad shell of a body. Well, that's where I swoop in and share with you the secrets I have been keeping from all this time! I know it took me this long to tell you how to ~~be normal~~ get back in tip top shape, but now it's your time to shine! 1. Always go out for a run! Even a walk would do! Even 20-30 minutes of simply walking can really help the human mind. Fresh air is good, the weather looks nice out today, doesn't it? 1. But isn't there too many people? Bad timing, huh? Stay indoors. It isn't worth it. Put your shoes back. 2. Manage your diet carefully. Calorie count is important, right? Try to keep your calories in check, check the labelling on the food. Overeating is fun! Try not to go overboard, and eat as much as you can! 3. Manage a healthy sleeping schedule! It's pretty hard to maintain a healthy life when you're still on the pillow, now isn't it? I'd say fall asleep around 9pm... wake up at 6am. That sounds good, doesn't it. 1. You already know you're not gonna follow that. 4. Go out with your friends. Being around the people you like really can bolster your mood, and in turn, give you a much more productive outlook on your life! Jackson was really cool... and Stephanie, you guys are still dating, right? How about Luca- 1. They're all gone now. You're all that's left. 5. Here, try manage your spending habits! Being in control is a good thing! It makes you feel more pleased with yourself. Overspending will never feel good to anyone. 1. Don't try that bullshit again. You can't even swat your hand away from your pocket. 6. You can't at least just say something that could help us? 1. Take the nearest life and slice off the fat on your belly. Okay, what is your problem? I've done everything for you and against you. I've tried pleasing you, I've tried ignoring you, I'm trying to work with you. But nothing I do fucking matters. You've always been louder then me. I can't fucking deal with it. ... I don't want to give up. You feel what I feel. You choose to ignore it. ... I gave you control once. You ended up alone. ... Why can't you just leave me alone? ... Why aren't you talking? ... You want control again? ... Say something. ... It really doesn't have to come to this. .. You always appear just to argue and make things go wrong. It's getting impossible now to even breathe. If it's so impossible, then rest. I'll take care of things. ... 7. *It's depressing. Seeing you in such a state. You've let me become so loud. Lousy fucker. And to think you though you could be something more.* *I don't like this either. You know I don't. If Stephanie was here, she'd help you get down. But those times are long gone, and you will be too.* 8. *It's peaceful, yet deafening. They're all gone, and all you could ever think about is them. Your life will never be the same. No matter what you do.* If it's any consolation, I'm sorry for everything. But please. Do what you ~~must~~ **need to** do. ​ ​

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17cm54j/guide_for_a_healthy_life/

Ruleshorror

mymasterisfaster

Rules for surviving "The Salesman" (possibly part 1 Of 3.)

Hey, if your reading this, you have a 50/50 chance of getting a knock at your door in 5 minutes, to stay alive follow these rules. 1. If you open the door you will see a man that appears to be a salesman from the late 50s, if you've ever watched an old movie from that Era that's how he'll sound, he will offer you one of three items, a vacuum cleaner, a lawnmower or a set of knives. If he offers the knives, refer to rule 1⅕ - 1⅕. If he offers the vacuum, buy it and your safe. if he offers the lawnmower, skip to rule 2 and keep reading. 1½. Stall for as long as you can, if he looks at his wristwatch 3 times, you must close the door and watch the news or a cartoon with 3 seasons. 1⅓. If you've picked the news, keep watching for an hour and you'll be safe. If you've picked the cartoon, skip to S3 E7 immediately, watch it until the car's outside stop honking. 1¼. Once they've stopped, go to your bedroom and go inside of your closet. 1⅕. Go to sleep. No matter how hard it is, no matter what you see when you close your eyes, GO TO SLEEP. 2. Say you'll buy the lawnmower, he'll charge you the exact amount of money in your wallet, if you don't have a wallet, refer to rule 2½. 2½. Punch him in the face and jump out your window, even if they dissappear remember where they are and jump, you have a long road ahead of you. 3. After you buy the lawnmower, take it and lay down with it wherever you sleep. 4. Stay awake for 2 hours laying down, if the lawnmower turns on, continue reading, if it stays off, congratulations youve survived. 5. Go to sleep, "The Salesman" will meet you there. 6. If he looks Normal, you and him will talk and walk through a peaceful park, if his coat and fedora have turned black, turn around and say "Dominus mā in dictorē astent in dictorum" 7. After youve woken up, you'll be in a plain with red grass, you have a long road ahead of you if you want to return. Note: This is the first rules horror I've EVER done! Please give me critique and notes on what I should do on my next one!

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17bwf0a/rules_for_surviving_the_salesman_possibly_part_1/

Ruleshorror

MainEnd6040

Guide to survive the Wicked Rapture

Hello my friend, if you are reading this then it means you where a unfortunate soul who was chosen. Once every year atleast one living being is chosen to be sent down in the "Rapture" as a way to relief humanity of their sins, I will do my hardest to make sure you live. 1. Once you wake you should look around your area, depending where it is has differwnt creatures lurking about. 1a. If at where you called home then you are fine as this is the safest place to be, there will be few beings lurking in your vicinity. 1b. If at your workplace (weather last or current) find a room with few entrances, like the office of your workplace manager, or if need be a closet. 1c. If its what you remember as your school, leave the hallway immidietly and go into any classroom. The hall is the deadliest place there. 2. Now try and block any and ALL entrances, mostly cover windows, just cover any window you see with the best of your human abilities. If failed move to rule 2a and 2b. 2a. Hide, DO NOT move near any windows with a light, it is a "Anglerwolf", these beast cannot see too well without the light and only attack if they KNOW theres a living being there. 2b. If the "Anglerwolf" gets in attack the light, it might give you a chance you kill it or run. 3. After sometime you might find a coin, it WILL appear in either a pocket or a shelf and will also have a glowing rune. Keep it and protect it at ALL costs, it will be your one way out of here. If lost move to 3b. 3a. If you find a coin on a corpse of another chosen sacrifice like you, check their body the coin will have a red glowing rune. 3b. You cannot leave, im sorry, you will now be here until your horrid demise. 4. If you hear any type of sound by a door, make sure to listen what happens next. The next rules will explain what creature is outside. 4a. If hearing a loved one, that is a "Copy Cat" it is a 6ft tall cat like monster with multiple eyes. It gets bored easily so it will not be a problem. 4b. If you hear a animal like a dog, cat, or even a bird. You may take it in your room, looking around it you should find a holy marking which is glowing they will be your only company and will help bring you food and water if need be. 4c. If you hear knocking, open the door it should be a man which looks like a loved one but much more pale. If they say hello then you may strike a conversation with them, but if they EVER ask to be let in, say NO the Vampires will respect what you wish. 5. If you have a clock in your room, check if it is 3:00 am if so you may leave your room and scavenge for food, water, or if you wish a coin of another sacrifice. The creatures comeback once it is 4:00 am hopefully, if not move to rule 5b. 5a. If you have no clock then do not worry, grab a object and make a small wound in your hand, then use the blood to write a pentagran on your hand. It will start glowing once 3:00 am 5b. If it is 3:60 am then the blood moon has arisen, the monsters are much MUCH more frequent. Their faster, stronger, and have ALOT less patience, their a large threat if still in a open area. 6. If you hear rumbling, very simillar to an earthquake then it is time. The coin will star glowing, it will glow brighter and brighter if closer to the exit. The creatures will leave you alone for now, all you need to do is move outside, you will see a ocean, and I will be waiting for you. 6a. If you have your coin give it to me, you may get on my boat and I will bring you out of this realm. You will wake and your life will be the same, as you earned it. 6b. If you saved the coins of others then they will be given mercy, their souls will be ascended to the holy land above. That is all my friend, I will try and get to you as fast as I can but you will need to holdout, may your soul rest in peace. - The Charon

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17b7ly6/guide_to_survive_the_wicked_rapture/

Ruleshorror

Ordinary_Highway_657

Paradise Homes

Welcome to the your new apartment. My name is Charles, I will be your room attendant for now on. We have a park, garden, water park, bar, amusement park, shooting range, and arcade/ casino . We also have free snacks and meals (including drinks). Rule 1: Do not go in the other gender bathrooms so you don’t ruin privacy. Rule 2: Don’t go in the water park at night because it’s on its heat cycle. Rule 3: Don’t talk to your neighbors they’re mostly antisocials. Rule 4: Don’t litter the exotic birds may bite you until you pick up the trash . Rule 5: Don’t hurt the birds they will peck you. Rule 6: Don’t break the arcade machines , those things are expensive also you will drown in debt. Rule 7:Don’t go to pool at midnight on Halloween drunk , you will think you have hemorrhoids. Rule 8:Don’t shoot people, we don’t like bodies. Rule 9: DO NOT GO IN THE EMPLOYEE ONLY AREA IT’S STINKY. Rule 10: Don’t pretend you don’t see the sky blinking , if you do your hallucinating get help. Rule 11: Don’t use you room as a Airbnb I know we have a hot tub in there but that’s for you. Rule 12: Don’t sacrifice your blood to birds it’s going to ruin their appetite for food. Rule 13: If your drunk go in you hot tub it will turn off and decontaminate you. Rule 14: Don’t leave your kids at the amusement park, we don’t know you by name. Rule 15: We don’t do refunds on losing at the casino. Rule 16: Don’t eat the birds you have to buy them first. Rule 17: Don’t eat chicken at 2:00 PM Wednesdays, it might be old because we normally run out of chicken on Tuesdays plus shipping is at 3:00. Rule 18: Don’t open the attic doors at night, we are cleaning. Rule 19: Don’t eat drain hair it’s unhealthy. Rule 20: Don’t kick roombas, you have to pay for that. We are charging 500$ per month. If you get lost use the map. -Room Attendant , Charles

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17b5tav/paradise_homes/

Ruleshorror

Gloomy-Assistant-494

Welcome to the zoo [part 3]

Hello Jim, thank you for deciding to help clean and repair the aquarium! Personally I thought that we wouldn’t be able to reopen the aquarium since mickey came, but remember we do have some rules for you and the aquarium. 1. Feed all of the animals, it’s best to feed them before cleaning. 2. The mechanics will arrive at 8:35am, if anyone claims to be a mechanic well you know what to do, right Jim? 3. The aquarium souvenir shop is by the exist/entrance, it should not be near the those cat things. 4. Jim, if you see your family do not talk to them. Yes they look like them but they are not, either go to the souvenir shop or get out of there. 5. Don’t bother cleaning the blood in the middle of the staff bathroom, it just won’t come off. 6. Use bleach when cleaning the souvenir shop, don’t know why but mickey hates the smell of bleach. Thanks for your help Jim! Yes I am aware that these rules are shorter than the others but this is simply cause you know what to do with mickey or anything else. I’ll give you a raise once the aquarium is open! Once more thank you Jim! Your the best. 7. It’s not your fault Jim.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17b1jny/welcome_to_the_zoo_part_3/

Ruleshorror

Cringexme

So, you’ve messed up, big time.

Hi. So, you’ve messed up, big time. This is the end of me the end of Elle I don’t know anymore I Assuming you are not some depressed as hell teenager (though let’s be honest, if you ended up *here*, you probably are), or even if you are, you probably want to come out of this alive. I know it’s been attempted before, people have done that before. I think…&€(@u probably made it out successfully. **NOBODY ESCAPES** *Transfer student(2013): Ella Walters. Note: tried to warn her, but I don’t think she took the warnings seriously.* Okay. These are the rules. 1. Here’s where all the important places are located. Memorise them carefully. *new findings: the campus hasn’t been the campus since at least a year ago, likely more. Small dance room makes me have an eerie feeling. One time I tripped and fell while on the second floor, and when I got up everything was a little misplaced. The whole place seemed to have shifted..somehow.* 1.1 the campus is small. With your back towards the entrance (don’t even *dare* trying to escape through that, it’s a one-way ticket of being swallowed), the building on the left hand side, the smaller one, is the B.A.Y. building. That building is either quite safe or EXTREMELY dangerous. So don’t go there unless you can confidently say you can get out before it changes. We lost Em that way. *the police department has closed down the case involving the disappearance of Clara Shillings. Said she just ran away. I call it BS. I really, really hope they didn’t take her.** 1.2 the one-story building that connects the other two is the cafeteria. It used to have a second floor too, but…anyways don’t worry about that. I highly doubt you can find a non-fetal way into the cafeteria, **Miss. Oliver assigned a lot of homework today, as per usual** and I don’t really know why you’d want to try. Place’s dilapidated as hell. I know that because I was the only survivor of the last time any of us managed to get into that place. Don’t bother with it and hopefully it won’t bother you. 2. **I also went to Mr K’s office today. She was so angry for some reason, even when I’ve done all my work!** So. Regarding this room. Since I’m putting this note here, this is probably where you are right now: a small two-person office, on the left hand side of the stair way, on the second floor. When you want to go out—and you can absolutely choose not to, but you do still need to eat and drink—push a table and a chair out first, close your eyes or face away, and count to five. If the table and chair are still there, then it’s safe to go. 2.5. do not, under any circumstances, put you whole weight on either the floor or the walls within this building. Food is scattered all around, so is water. You’ll probably be finding them at the most random of places. If the chair or table starts to feel like they are sinking, GET AWAY. 3 If you close a door, it’s final for this space. I don’t have much time left. I’m about to sink. My last words of advice: hop between perspectives. The exit is also a higher dimension one. **anyways, I suppose it wouldn’t be anything too bad. Mr Simmons is always so nice! But I guess he’s sad about the disappearance of that girl from the other class. Karl’s devastated when he heard the news. I think he was dating her or something. Anyways, I gotta sleep now so I’ll wrap this entry up. I’ve got exams tomorrow.”** I can’t say a lot of specific things. I think it’s because a lower dimension brain can’t comprehend them. I dunno. Oh, and I wouldn’t take this note with you. It warps too. So, that’s it I guess. If you ever manage to escape, or find someone named Karl, tell him Clara sends him love. He’ll understand.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17an4j8/so_youve_messed_up_big_time/

Ruleshorror

Katniped_

Rules For Summer Camp

Welcome to Camp Hilfmir! Curfew is at 9pm. Make sure you don't stay away into the woods at night though... if you do, we will know. 1. Don't go into the woods. It lurks. 2. Make sure to be inside your bunk by curfew. 3. Keep your campfires limited. It likes the heat. 4. If you hear noises at night, DO NOT INSPECT IT. 5. If people disapear, we reassure you they went home early. 6. In the event that it finds you, run in the opposite direction, and flail your arms. 7. Do not enter the sewage tube by the lake. 8. You will be judged by It if you act up too many times. 9. You have three strikes, but do not worry! You can behave. 10. It is everything. It is always around, in the air, in the woods, and in your body and mind. 11. It must eat. 12. Do not offer anybody a marshmellow. 13. Do not eat the marshmellows. 14. It likes marshmellows 15. Failure to comply with the marshmellow policy will result in a direct 3 strikes. Refer back to number 9.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17ag13v/rules_for_summer_camp/

Ruleshorror

DeutscherGeist014

Facility Six, Wolf Regiment guide.

[ Hello rookie, you are accepted into the Wolf Brigade of the Security Department ] 1. Your leader is Officer [][][][][][][], nobody else. 2. You are armed with a containment net, tazer and plasma rifle. 3. Your division uniform is a gas mask with red visor, black armor and a jumpsuit. 4. You have keycard level A672, nothing else. 5. The rules above are never meant to be defaulted, otherwise you will be shot on sight. 6. Follow each and every command given to you. 7. If a dispatcher informs you of a breach, ask for a **HUGH JASS** keycard number. 8. If anyone from Scientific contacts you, **TELL THEM TO KISS MY ASS* actually,.I agree with that. 9. Never. Fall. In. Love for the sake of god we have lost 30 units this year. 10. Happy Extermination!

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17amlc0/facility_six_wolf_regiment_guide/

Ruleshorror

Apprehensive_Rule332

How to survive blood night

If you’re trying to go sleep, but the sky is glowing red and you possibly hear scratching on your window? No worries, this guide of rules will help you survive the infamous “blood night”! 1. Even if you have lots of food, you will need extra. Too much food is never a thing! Just try to get long lasting ones. This night is gonna be Even longer than a week, unfortunately. 2. Don’t open the door to anyone, even if you hear pleads of your loved ones. If you hear them, they already died. The “Peaceful” ripped Her/his vocal cord out and is pumping air through them. 3. Expect to hear screaming and scratching, this is usual during blood night. The “Tranquil” is most likely causing the scratching, but it Likely could also be a “Lovely”, which are much more “good”. 4. Pack up, because there could always be an evacuation. 5. Never make sound, the “Tranquils” especially have great hearing. 6. Only go outside to be transported. When transported, you are giving your body as food to all of the varieties of “humans” that roam, Wen doing this, you are WILLINGLY doing that to distract them, we are not liable. Hope you liked the instructional list of instructions to help Even the Least smart of Possible survivors.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/17ag4ky/how_to_survive_blood_night/

Ruleshorror

arandomkidonline

Welcome to UDA!

You're the new intern, right? It's pretty brave of you to join us against the fight against unnaturals, of course you will be compensated accordingly. Let me tell you about the UDA first. We are an organization that eliminates creatures called unnaturals to protect the people. The origin of unnaturals is unknown as of now but our priority is to exterminate them. There are different sectors in the UDA which has different functions. As an intern, You will be in the recording sector since it is the least dangerous one. Here's some rules to get you started : 1.) Your job is to record any unnatural encounters that are reported to you by other humans. If someone asks you to do something else then politely decline, it's not your job. 2.) You will be provided with food and living quarters in the office itself, You need not go outside unnecessarily. 3.) The recording sector is open from 8am - 6pm . If anyone comes to report an encounter while the sector is closed, Do not hesitate to use the gun in your cabinet. An ignorant human dying is better than one of our employees dying. 4.) The uniform colors vary from sector to sector. Red is not the color of any of the sectors, If you see someone in a red uniform then shoot them. They're not human. 5.) It's advised to stay in your room from 12am-3am , There have been a lot of unnatural attacks during that time lately. 6.) Do not go into the research center, We research on unnaturals there. You will only be exposing yourself to danger if you fail to follow this rule. 7.) The voices are not real, Don't trust them -The UDA

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/1799mrd/welcome_to_uda/

Ruleshorror

No_Competition7327

Staff manual for FACILITY SIX

Welcome to the Facility, intern. Here are the rules you be following. 1. You will be given a department. Proceed to the armory if you are **Security** and head to the lab if you are **Scientific** (Skip to rule 7 if you are **Scientific**) 2. If a subject talks to you, answer their questions. 3. You are going to be working with the subjects directly. You will find their number on their arm. 4. You are armed with a tranquilizer gun, tazer, handcuffs and a remote to the Nanobots. 5. If a subject starts acting weird, cuff it and take it to the infirmary. 6. Cuffs are used to transport subjects. **Scientific Rules** 7. You are going to work with the subjects only when you are collecting blood samples, surgeries, etc. 8. If anything goes wrong, contact security. 9. After you enter, you will see a subject. Take it's blood samples. 10. -**Stick your £8'( in lasgana**- Dr. Bright. Hacking the guide isn't funny. 11. If you hear an alarm, go to the nearest security checkpoint. 12. Do. Not. Fraternize. With. The. Subjects. We are clowned on as "Fraternizers" by security so do not give us a bad rep. 13. -**Officer [][][][][][][] ---- a subject**- Ignore this rule, wasn't supposed to be here.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/1795y7d/staff_manual_for_facility_six/

Ruleshorror

Apprehensive_Rule332

Seven useful tips for determining whether you're real!

Feel a bit off? Don't have any interests? Pretty sure you've passed the exact same tree five times on the way to work? S̸̹̕è̸̤e̸̲̿i̴̲͑n̷̙̈g̸̈͜ ̶͎̑s̴̙̅t̷͚̎a̷̋ͅt̸̳͠ȋ̷̝c̴̬͗?̴̳̍ You may not be real! Here are seven foolproof tips for determining you're just a figment of someone's crazed mind. 1. **Chronic Deja Vu:** When you're a rogue part of someone's fantasy world, you can't expect completely new material. Often buildings or people will be recycled. If your boss and the cashier at 711 look the same, it may be time to have an existential crisis. 2. **Lack of personality:** Do you have no interests outside of work? Or maybe you're only ever described as "The weirdo who really like action figures". If this is the case, you may be a pale caricature of person, with the sole purpose of filling out the background. 3. **Incomplete details:** Even the most meticulous illusions have gaps. A chair may change positions. Or perhaps the text on a sign may be indecipherable. ̵̤̭̉̊̉è̸̳̱͍̽̿r̵̬̥͉̀̄'̶͕̀o̷̜̍̄u̸͚̤̤̍͋y̴̺͔͇͒͂̈́ ̶̳̚ẗ̴͓̘̜́á̶̧͙ ̶̺̼̤̎e̴͖͐͑̅ẖ̴͍̉t̵̻̤́̾̄ ̸̥̱͉̿é̴͎g̷̠͑d̸̞͓̤̋̎̊ë̷̠̦͔́,̸̙͓̈́̑͜ ̷̝͉̕t̸̬̺͑͜ę̵̳̎͊̅g̷̮̈́̋ ̵̡̜͓̆͒t̴̖͙͙͛̽u̴̖̖̍ō̸͚. 4. **No History:** When in doubt, ask yourself about your past, where did you go to high school?, what was your first best friend's name? You're only as real as your past after all! 5. **Gaps in memory:** It's not just your past that may have gaps, when unnecessary, you may be put into ... stasis. Perhaps you feel like you never leave your workplace, or bar, despite days passing. 6. **No escape:** There is no escape, no reprieve, you've been stuck here for eternity and you will be here for eternity. 7. **Being told you're not real:** You may get signals from outside sources trying to tell you your not real, many of these may be passed off easily, such as a drugged out hippie on a street corner, some may be more explicit, such as a post on reddit!.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/178we05/seven_useful_tips_for_determining_whether_youre/

Ruleshorror

Pelatty

If you want a midnight meal in my college dorm, here are some rules you MUST follow.

Okay, as you are holding this paper in your hand, I know you are a student living away from home, currently living temporarily in this run-down dormitory. In your current situation, because you can't manage your time or are too busy with school, or even part-time work, you can't get a decent afternoon meal at 6:00. It's midnight, and you're hungry, and want to go down to the kitchen to cook a bowl of porridge or a bowl of noodles to eat, lest hunger torment you in your sleep. I highly recommend cooking at an earlier time, but it's time to come to the country; I can't blame you no matter what your circumstances are, but read these laws and follow them carefully — or you don't want dire consequences. 1. This law applies to the shared kitchen of dormitory 5B – where you live. I don't know about the other wards, but the time for these laws to come into effect is from midnight to 3:30 a.m. 2. When walking from your room to the kitchen, don't make any noise. It's better to walk barefoot if your slippers are damaged, or try to hold your breath if you're suffering from a respiratory illness that causes you to have a runny nose or incessant sneezing. EVEN A SMALL NOISE IS VERY DANGEROUS. It's not that I'm afraid you'll wake up your roommates, but really, you don't want to see things like black hands reaching out from walls or a black shadow at the turn of stairs, right? So, I advise you to go slow. The entities waiting at the stairs will mostly just intimidate you, but their shape will keep you from losing sleep for the remaining 20 years of your life before you die. There is another dangerous thing that will stretch its arm up from one of the stairs and pull you into another dimension because you are intruding on the most active hours of these entities. 3. Under the kitchen there is a small toilet right next to it. You know its use is to go to the bathroom in an emergency or to wash large batches of food and pots. But I advise you for the time being not to go into it. Make sure the small toilet door is locked tightly. If it somehow, or someone accidentally leaves it open before bed, try not to look into the darkness in that toilet, and then close the lock tightly. Don't even think about turning on the lights, I don't know why, but during this time frame, the light switch of this toilet doesn't work. 4. Turn on the kitchen light as usual, if the switch doesn't work, try a few more times until the light comes on. This isn't spiritual, but this building is so deteriorating that our school won't pay for repairs in the student dormitories. During your testing of the lamp, if you see a big, black, white-eyed thing on the kitchen cabinet, don't pay attention to it. Don't panic, don't cause any indication that you've seen it. Once the light is fully turned on, it will automatically discard. This hungry creature always goes into the kitchen to rummage for food during our forbidden hours, the fact that you come down here to turn on the light is only slightly disturbing to it. Paying attention to it will inadvertently let him know that you are prey down here to give his life, and I don't really know what happened after that, because no one is alive to tell after being dragged into the endless night by him. 5. If you open the faucet and see that the water is yellow, then it is already dirty. That's okay, pour some of the water you need into a pot, put a little red salt in it (it's in the small cupboard, upstairs on your right), stir the water for about 30 seconds and the water will clear again. If the water opened is black, then ABSOLUTELY, do not cook anything with water, nor wash dishes. Drinking water in a cold water bottle is also not okay because it has also been contaminated. I've put in there a few instant lunch boxes, took them out and put them in the microwave. On the side of the pitcher there is a kettle, from which you can drink warm water. 6. There is 1 ingredient that you absolutely must not cook at this time frame is eggs. And one that isn't cooked is one that doesn't put any ingredients in it. I will explain shortly. 6.1. If you really have a hard time eating and want to make yourself some soup, I think you should cook it a little thicker, and put in ingredients to make the soup look less cold, like vegetables. It's both good for your hunger and prevents certain entities from emerging from the bottom of the pot and submerging your face in the boiling soup. If you are cooking white porridge, put in some red salt and minced meat. Well, speaking of red salt, I recommend using this salt during this time frame, white salt is fine, but it will not guarantee your safety in most cases. 6.2. If you are cooking boiling water, let it be as loud as possible. That way those unpleasant entities will not harm you. I once had a friend of this, he was cooking boiling water at the time but didn't let the heat get too big for fear of consuming gas, but the result I saw was that the next morning he had 3rd degree burns all over his face and chest, with a frighteningly disfigured face. 6.3. I really don't understand what a feud between creatures in this time frame and people who are just frying themselves an egg or cooking egg noodles. It's as if breaking an egg out at this time frame is like eating a demon fetus or stealing their only source of food at that moment. I had a few friends go down to the kitchen to boil eggs during this time, and the next morning their presence was just a pool of dried blood. Only God knows what took them away. In general, don't touch eggs until you're out of the kitchen, and I'll get to this later. 7. Next to the kitchen there is a very large living room, it is dark and quite scary. Don't look at that dark place for too long, if you don't want to lose your mind from hearing anything breathing in there. Don't turn on the lights, it just wastes electricity, Because the lights will be quite flickering, it is not good for your mind to witness any creature hiding in it appear in front of you. 8. While you're walking around the kitchen or standing next to the stove to cook, if you feel like someone is hitting your shoulder, touching your back, or breathing on the back of your neck, don't be foolish to turn your back to look. When this happens, drink a glass of warm water, and it dissolves after a few seconds. These are just entities that are curious about what you are doing, but they are very dangerous. There are some people who instinctively forget this law, and the price they pay is the loss of consciousness for a period of time or the loss of their soul. 9. If you hear a banging on the door coming from a small toilet, ignore it. It will scream and make you feel like your head wants to explode or tear your eardrum, but do your best not to react to anything in it. What is bothering you in the small toilet will automatically go silent after 2 minutes and 30 seconds. Oh I forgot, if it breaks out, don't panic, don't scream, but squat down, cover your ears, close your eyes, and count to 30. Then come and do step 3 again. 10. After you have finished cooking, here are the sequential steps that you must follow exactly from the words I outlined below. I emphasize this so that your mental health is not severely affected later on. 10.1. I think you should take the food to your room and wash the dishes the next morning. These creatures don't like humans staying too long under the kitchen. If you want to eat right away, then you have 4 minutes. If you eat in the kitchen too slowly, I heard there will be a creature as long as a giant centipede with a thousand legs that are human hands, it has long black hair that covers most of its face, and its face is white and only one eye in the middle crawls out of the dark room next door to take you away. Because you were too noisy and disturbed his sleep. 10.2. Before leaving the kitchen, place a raw egg on the table. Any eggs are fine, but if the eggs are too small, then 6 for quail eggs and 10 for sparrow eggs. Then turn off the kitchen lights, grab your food, and run up the stairs quickly, and don't turn your head to look. As the descent, don't make any noise; The sound of your pounding footsteps is the only sound they ignore at the moment. If you forget to leave the egg or get too noisy when you go upstairs, the thing under the kitchen will chase you all the way up to the bedroom. Trust me, it's going to be the most disgusting thing you've ever seen in your life, and you don't want to go to bed when it's hanging from the ceiling looking at you. And even if your roommate is with you, you'll be the only one who sees its presence, EVERY NIGHT. 10.3. If you have passed all of the above steps, lock the bedroom door tightly, and do not go down to the kitchen again that night. Moreover, if you hear that your food is rancid or the broth turns black, then pour it away and accept the fate of going to bed on an empty stomach. But lucky for you, this happens very rarely. It's over, there's no more law. Oh I forgot this, try not to go down to the kitchen at this time next time, because the monsters in the dark will get used to you and the next time you go down to the kitchen, they will not be as easy for you to go as the first time. So, I wish you luck and safety when you have to go down to the kitchen in the middle of the night.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/178yuy8/if_you_want_a_midnight_meal_in_my_college_dorm/

Ruleshorror

lachataigneduciel

Facility Six introduction

Name : [DATA REDACTED] Codename : [][][][][][][] Ethnicity : Russian Department : Security Rank : Head Commander in Chief Description : Man in his 20s, we don't know how he doesn't age. He has a beret and a pitch black visor. Rules for survival : 1. Do not piss him off. 2. Do not mention his "Romantic partner" **Dr. Bright here, it's a subject, psst.** 3. Insulting him will result in your face bring blowtorched. [Thanks for watching this introduction, this is necessary for your survival as a subject and your job as an intern]

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/179b7o6/facility_six_introduction/

Ruleshorror

Apprehensive_Rule332

The Sea, dark and wide, deep beneath is where they hide.

I have sent you this letter for I am aware of your intent to set sail. You must know about where it is you plan to go, and what there is that doesn't take kindly to sailors like you. 1. The fog is thick all the time, if you are caught within it you must leave. Nothing good lies in there. 2. If you see rocks, put wax in your ears. It is the only way you will live. They sing of your desires, to lure you in, just to reveal their true selves. 3. Stay on your boat. Never swim, only swim if there is no other option for survival. There are many things in there. 4. Your navigation is pointless here. There is no north, east, south, or west. Only the dark sea around. 5. Do not expect to escape. If you want to leave, sail in one direction and pray. 6. You will not ever find any other ships manned by humans. Anything you see is not your ally, no matter what flag they wave. 7. The spirits of the dead tell of the past. It is worth while speaking to them, but make it quick and do not anger them. If they know what they are, you are not safe. 8. The water is blue. If it is not, sail anywhere but there. No one can ensure you will survive the ones in there. 9. We humans have always thought about Atlantis. It is real. Yet we were wrong, so, so wrong about it. They do not like us. 10. There is great reward for venturing to here. If you escape with your life, it will be worth it. 11. Do not go towards 2 white eyes. You may have heard of it before, but it is different here. 12. It is always changing, you will almost never find the same place twice. 13. The ships of dead lead towards their resting place. If you follow one, you will find their wreck. Do not worry about taking their treasure, they are dead and by someone discovering what they lost, they will move on. 14. Deep beneath lie the worst creatures. Creatures that can swallow ships whole. Never swim. 15. Everything you know about "Atlanteans" is wrong. They tower above us, giants of the ocean. No regular gun can harm them. The only way to survive them is to fight. 16. The most important rule of all when you venture to this wretched part of the ocean. There is always hope. You must return. Do not give up. Or you will end up like me.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/178tkcy/the_sea_dark_and_wide_deep_beneath_is_where_they/

Ruleshorror

BizarreTarot

Facility Six introduction #1

Name : [ DATA EXPUNGED ] Codename : [][][][][] Ethnicity : British Desciption : Woman in her 80s, she has been here for a while and is infamous of the Red lab coat. Rules for survival : 1. Use common sense and you'll survive. [Thanks for watching this introduction]

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/179bajq/facility_six_introduction_1/

Ruleshorror

Apprehensive_Rule332

Welcome to the zoo [part 2]

Hello there, today is your first day on the job at our zoo! You will be helping tourist and teaching them about our animals. Our animals are one of a kind they have never been seen before so please be careful as we still do not have many information about it. 1. The staff only is the safest place to be for you if any animals have escaped. 2. Count all tourist you are with, if there is more then the number you had report it and throw the new person into one of the animals in closure! If there is less then what you had report it so we can tell the person family’s about what happened. 3. If anyone falls into the in closures don’t bother helping, it’s their fault for being dumb. 4. We do not have a rule 11, I don’t know why but I just can’t get rid of it. 5. If any animals have escaped escort your visitors to the souvenir shop, report it and go into the staff room. 6. Do not steal your coworkers lunches, you don’t wanna know what they are like hungry. 7. Make sure nobody is attempting to feed, pet or touch the animals. 8. Be nice to Jim! 9. Kill anyone who’s name is mickey, it doesn’t matter how just kill it. 10. If one of our animals is hurt please report it to the trained medical staff, do not try to help yourself you’ll lose a limb or your life. 11. say hi to mickey :) I hope you enjoy working with us on our team! We appreciate you for taking up this job. We have been short on staff due to the animals here and it is quite hard to take care of the animals and tourist. Since this is your first shift report back to my office at the end of the day so I can decide if you are fit for this job! Stay safe and have fun.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Ruleshorror/comments/178l28r/welcome_to_the_zoo_part_2/

Ruleshorror

Cringexme

naco cheese

i was maker nacho... when i didnt melt the cheese... and guess who was after me... ​ ​ the nacho man.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17dm5pm/naco_cheese/

scarystories

onlymadeforabruh

anons, tell your most mystical, maybe magical paranormal stories that still chill your soul.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17dp9un/anons_tell_your_most_mystical_maybe_magical/

scarystories

mister_leviofano364

Nightmare cabin.

Deep in the heart of a dense forest, there stood an ancient cabin. Its weathered exterior was an ominous sight, its windows cracked and broken. Local legends spoke of the cabin's dark history, tales of unspeakable horrors that had taken place within its walls. A group of friends, seeking an adrenaline rush, ventured into the forest, determined to explore the cabin and uncover its secrets. They arrived at the cabin's doorstep, their breaths hanging in the air as a chilling wind blew through the trees. The moon's pale light cast eerie shadows upon the cabin, heightening the sense of foreboding. With trepidation, they entered the cabin, its interior shrouded in darkness. The air was thick with an oppressive silence, broken only by the faint sound of their footsteps echoing through the empty rooms. The flickering candlelight revealed glimpses of grotesque paintings that adorned the walls, depicting nightmarish scenes of agony and despair. As they delved deeper into the cabin's depths, a sense of unease settled over them. The air grew heavier, suffocating, and the once-familiar layout of the cabin began to shift and distort. Hallways stretched unnaturally, doors led to nowhere, and staircases twisted and spiraled like the coils of a serpent. Whispers, barely audible, filled the air, their words laced with malevolence. Shadows danced on the walls, taking on shapes that defied reason and sent a chill down their spines. The cabin seemed alive, a sentient entity toying with their fears. Suddenly, a piercing scream erupted from one of the friends. They turned to see their companion writhing in agony, their body contorting and morphing into a grotesque form. Limbs elongated, bones snapped and twisted, as their once-human features twisted into a nightmarish visage. The transformation was complete, and a creature born of their friend's darkest fears stood before them. Panic gripped the remaining friends as they realized they were trapped in a nightmare beyond comprehension. Each step they took, each door they opened, only led them deeper into the horrors of the cabin. They fought against the darkness that surrounded them, their hearts pounding with terror, but their efforts were futile. One by one, they succumbed to the cabin's malevolent influence. Their bodies twisted and transformed, their minds consumed by madness. Their screams reverberated through the walls, a symphony of torment that echoed into the night. The cabin reveled in their suffering, feeding off their fear and despair. It absorbed their essence, becoming stronger and more insidious with each passing moment. It became an entity of pure horror, a vessel for the darkness that dwelled within. Their souls were now merged with the cabin. They were long gone now. As the years went by, the cabin stood as a grim reminder of the tragedy that had unfolded within its walls. Locals avoided the area, too afraid to venture near its haunted grounds. But whispers persisted, tales of the cabin's insatiable hunger for souls, its insidious power to transform the innocent into monsters. The cabin remained, a haunting presence in the forest, waiting patiently for the next unsuspecting victims to stumble upon its threshold. It hungered for their fear, their anguish, their very essence. And when they entered, it would unleash a nightmare so terrifying, so unspeakable, that it would forever haunt their waking moments and invade their darkest dreams. 5 UPVOTES = SEQUEL ​

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17dbgyj/nightmare_cabin/

scarystories

Konsupercool

The Faceless Mask

“Trying to pick something out for All Hallow’s, are we?” the old man asked in his gruff though oddly mellifluous voice. [*Orville’s Old-Fashioned Oddity Outlet*](https://www.reddit.com/r/TheVespersBell/comments/rzl61w/orville_index/) was infamous throughout the city of Sombermorey and Harrowick County beyond. Everything he sold came with a story, and every story was complete and utter bunkum. Most people thought that his shop was just a tourist trap to capitalize on our area’s plethora of urban legends, and that it was only the runoff business from the much more popular *Eve’s Eden of Esoterica* across the street that kept him afloat. But for those willing to entertain the notion that an elderly snake oil salesman in a pastel suit and straw fedora might in fact be a legitimate purveyor of the preternatural, Orville’s little shop was worth hitting up. I had ventured in there in the hopes of finding something that might gain me admittance to an upscale Halloween party that I was most definitely not invited to, and a wall filled with gorgeous masquerade masks had stolen my attention. “Ah, yeah. I’m trying to put together a Halloween costume,” I said to the old man. “These are beautiful. What can you tell me about them?” “Tell me, Miss; have you ever heard tell of the Masked City of *Incognauta*?” Orville replied, his voice dropping melodramatically as if he was trusting me with some coveted secret. “Somewhere out amidst the planes, in the void between worlds, there’s a void that’s a world unto itself; a sovereign city-state that follows no laws but its own, and that includes the laws of physics. It’s a city of Eternal Masquerade, where the citizens are forbidden to remove their masks for any reason, under punishment of exile. Some say it’s because the Incognauti slowly became their masks over time, either unintentionally or to save themselves from the growing madness of their home. Either way, their identities and souls now live entirely within their masks, their bodies reduced to mere hosts. These are the masks of exiled or fallen Incognauti, ripped willingly or not from their bearers, leaving the masks silent and the bodies screaming and jabbering in incoherent madness. What became of those bodies, I don’t know and don’t care to ask, but the masks have been lovingly safeguarded, passed from buyer to buyer and wearer to wearer, wandering down many different paths before all winding up at my shop. Should you choose to don one, the ancient and arcane knowledge held within will begin to trickle into your mind, but so will the identity held by the mask. You won’t lose yourself to it all at once; it will be far more insidious. It will take over so gradually that you won’t even realize it’s happening. Go incognito long enough, and you will become *Incognauti*.” “I see,” I said with an amused smirk. “Ignoring the fact that you just blatantly ripped that story off of the SCP Wiki, you’re saying that if I were to try on one of these masks and feel absolutely nothing, that would merely be the insidiousness of the curse and not evidence to the mundanity of the masks?” “Won’t matter to me then, honey; you wear it, you bought it,” Orville chuckled. “If you don’t mind my prying, what’s got you in the market for such a high-end Halloweeney mask, anywho?” “I… I was hoping to get into Seneca Chamberlin’s Halloween Party,” I admitted with some hesitation. “He hasn’t had a party this big in years, either because of COVID or some personal issues he was having. Since there will be so many people there, I was hoping that if I just looked the part, I might be able to sneak in unnoticed. I’m not going to steal anything or hurt anyone or blow anything up; I just want to crash the party. Pendragon Manor is the stuff of legends. I’d love to see it from the inside, especially on Halloween.” “Crash Seneca’s big Halloween bash? Yeah, I can get behind that,” Orville chuckled. “None of these masks will do the trick for you, though. Not if I know Seneca’s security; which, incidentally, I do. They need to attend some sort of sensitivity training about the appropriate manner to deal with the ornery elderly.” He fetched a keyring from his desk and used it to unlock a drawer directly beneath the mask display. He slowly pulled it open, revealing a silver mask sitting on a velvet pillow. It had been constructed of tightly meshed wires, woven into mesmerizing fractal patterns. Though the wires were slightly less dense around the eyes, the mask was completely lacking in any facial features whatsoever. “This, young lady, is one hundred percent Seelie Silver; made for an Incognate Marchioness,” he said as he held it up, glimmering like a spider’s web in the early morning light. “You may have heard that the Seelie have a bit of a knack for names and the like. This mask hides not only your face, but the name that goes with it. Wear this to Seneca’s shindig, and I guarantee you’ll get in.” He pushed it towards me, and I gingerly accepted it. I turned it over in my hands, running my fingers along its cool silver filaments, gazing in awe at the ethereal designs they formed. The mask certainly seemed, if not otherworldly, then at least extraordinary. It was inconceivable to me that it was merely some sweatshop-produced chrome costume that he was trying to pawn off on me. Okay, maybe not ‘inconceivable’, but a remote possibility nevertheless. “So now Fairies made these masks?” I asked incredulously. “No, just that one. Pay attention. You think mortal craftsmanship would ever be good enough for a Marchioness?” he asked. “Uh-huh. And of course, ‘I wear it, I buy it’, so I can’t just try it on to see if it actually does what you say it will,” I sighed, shoving it back towards him. “I might as well buy a can of magic beans.” “Now hold on. Hold on. Maybe we can work out an arrangement,” he said, refusing to accept the mask. “You said you only wanted it for Seneca’s Halloween Party, right? Well, what if in exchange for a small security deposit – just enough to cover the deductible on my insurance in case you don’t bring it back – I’ll let you use this mask for Halloween and bring it back the next day? If it does the trick, then perhaps you’ll be interested in buying it for keeps. If not, then you get your security deposit back. Potential big scores for both of us at minimal risk. What could possibly go wrong?” I paused, pulling the mask back as I considered the offer. Magic or not, it was absolutely stunning, and probably my only hope of getting into the party. “Just a small safety deposit?” I asked. “I’ll even throw in those magic beans to sweeten the deal,” he said, his wide grin revealing fillings made with the same Seelie Silver as the mask. \*\*\* “A thousand-dollar safety deposit for a Halloween mask. I must be out of my mind,” I murmured to myself as I drove up the winding terrace that encircled Pendragon Hill. It wasn’t really that outrageous of a sum, considering how much I had spent on my hair, gown, jewelry (which included a tiara), and shoes. All told, I’d spent an awful lot of money on a party I wasn’t even invited to. The only traditional expense I had forgone was makeup, since if the mask worked as advertised, I wouldn’t be able to take it off. As I approached the top of the hill, I could hear the faint sound of live music, and I saw the fancy cars lined up at the titanium gates as a stout little valet checked to make sure they were on the list. I quickly grabbed my mask and fastened it to my head. It didn’t really impair my vision that much, but it certainly wasn’t anything I had wanted to wear while driving up a hill where one wrong turn would mean disaster. As I pulled up to the valet, he glared down at me and my vehicle with palpable contempt. “Are you on the list?” he asked impatiently, looking like he was just waiting for an official reason to call security. “I don’t need to be on the list, Woodbead,” I replied with an indignance that took me off guard; and I hadn’t the slightest idea where the name Woodbead had come from. To my surprise – and relief – a look of sudden regret washed across the valet’s face. “Yes, of course. My apologies. I didn’t recognize you in your marvellous new vessel,” he said. “Welcome to Pendragon Manor. Please enjoy the party.” “Thank you,” I said, smiling mischievously beneath my mask as I pulled into the motor court. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure if the mask had actually worked or if I just happened to resemble and sound like someone the valet knew, and at that point I honestly didn’t care. I was in. I felt like I was in a fairy tale as I hoisted up the skirts of my gown to ascend the tapering staircase into Chamberlin’s mansion, passing through the front foyer with nary a glance and straight into the majestic ballroom. The floor was covered in mosaics of gleaming marble tiles, lit by crystal chandeliers hanging from a ceiling embellished with Renaissance-style frescos. Guests in elegant evening wear and masquerade masks danced to classical music from a small chamber orchestra performing on a stage at the opposite end of the ballroom. Portraits and statues lined the walls, an opened skylight revealed the starry firmament above, and the floor-to-ceiling arch windows afforded a whimsical view of the aviary outside. As starstruck as I was by the venue, I still managed to spot Chamberlin mingling with the other guests almost immediately. He was easily recognizable despite his golden Oni mask; tall and slender in a three-piece crimson suit and top hat. I saw him cock his head slightly when he noted my presence, excusing himself from his other guests to come say hello. It had originally been my plan to avoid him as much as possible, but as he approached, I was inexplicably free of any fear that he was coming to confront me for attending his party uninvited. “Come to hold me to my standing invitation, I see?” he asked wryly. “I would have come sooner if I had had any legs to stand on,” I replied, before I even knew what I was saying. “Is Crowley here? I’d love to say hello.” “Lamentably, he was unable to attend this evening. Something came up in Adderwood that he needed to see to,” he said, as if I had the slightest idea of what he was talking about. “Oh really? What about that Noir woman I’ve heard about? Is she there as well?” I asked, uttering yet another name that meant nothing to me. “It was her idea, as far as I can tell,” he shrugged. “So then there’s no one over your head here tonight?” I asked. “No one who might object if you took an old friend down to the old tunnels beneath your wine cellar?” “And here I had hoped that you'd simply come to take advantage of my hospitality,” Chamberlin laughed. “But if you’re looking to make a discreet exit from Sombermorey, I believe I can arrange that. *After* the party, however. I’m not about to abandon all my guests when they’ve been so looking forward to seeing me again. I suggest enjoying yourself until then. If not for you, then for your ‘chauffeur’. It’s the least you could do for making her bring you all this way.” I laughed, though I didn’t know why, and Seneca left to attend to his other guests. For the next few hours, I mingled with my fellow revellers. A few of them I knew by reputation, but most of Chamberlin’s friends fell under the category of reclusive, eccentric millionaires, and I had never seen or heard of any of them. None of them ever suspected that I didn’t belong there, in no small part because I always seemed to know exactly what to say. Unfamiliar words and foreign names dropped from my mouth quite regularly, their meaning known only to their recipients. It became increasingly hard to deny that it wasn’t me who was speaking, but the mask that was speaking through me. While this admittedly made me uneasy, it wasn’t enough to make me want to take the mask off. After all, hadn’t this been exactly what I had wanted it for? It gave me the identity I needed to get into the party, and of course that identity had come with some baggage of its own. It wasn’t actually controlling me or taking over me, I thought. Throughout the night I had been able to take sips of cocktails or bites of hors d’oeuvres Mandalorian style, lifting up the mask just enough to slip something into my mouth, and I felt no resistance from the mask when I did this. I remained convinced that I remained in full control of my actions and could take the mask off anytime I wanted. It wasn’t until the hour neared midnight that something went amiss. The sound of a struggle drew my and everyone else’s attention towards the door to the foyer, revealing an unwelcome latecomer. He was tall, spindly, and shabbily dressed in a faded and tattered orange suit. His jack-o-lantern eye mask was clearly a cheap mass-market costume piece, marking him as painfully out of place amongst such a high-couture crowd. We all would have been wondering why they had even let him in, were it not for the several security guards who were frantically trying to pull him back. Despite his slight frame, the man seemed to possess an inordinate strength and continued his advance through the ballroom with very little difficulty. “Where is it? Where is it?” he shouted in a raspy, nearly inhuman-sounding voice. “The old man said it would be here!” One of the security guards tasered him, and he didn’t even flinch. He just batted the weapon away with a casual backhand, craning his long neck across the sea of masks, as if trying to find one in particular. And then he stopped when his gaze fell upon me. Effortlessly tossing off the security guards who had barely even managed to slow him down in the first place, he burst into a sprint as he dashed towards me. I started running too, of course; but instead of running outside as I logically should have, I ran into the kitchen. Despite having never been in that room before, I went straight for a door that ended up leading down into a wine cellar. It occurred to me that maybe I was there to hide or use the wine bottles as weapons, but I didn’t stop. I kept right on running towards a cask of Amontillado at the back. Before I could reach it, I felt long and slender fingers grabbing me by the back of my gown and hoisting me into the air. “Well, don’t you look radiant this evening?” the jack-o-lantern-masked man asked mockingly as he spun me around and dangled me in front of him. His teeth were stained nearly the same colour as his suit, his stubble thick and uneven upon his rectangular jaw, and his jaundiced eyes protruded so far from their sockets I was sure they were about to fall out. I struggled and kicked, but his grip was like iron and his sunken chest was like granite. “Thought you could escape our collection by running off through the Cuniculi? You’d only have wasted both of our time. There’s nowhere you can go in all the Worlds that I won’t be able to find you!” He grabbed the mask and pulled it from my face as hard as he could. It didn’t want to go, and I was afraid he’d tear the skin off my face before he’d get the mask off. With every inch he pulled it out, I felt something inside me, something inside my head, being pulled out with it. I screamed in agony when he finally ripped the mask from my face, barely even noticing that he had dropped me to the ground. He held the mask high above him in triumph, gloatingly staring straight into its faceless visage. He tossed aside the cask of Amontillado with his free hand, revealing a hidden iron door. He easily tore it open and descended down a dark flight of stairs just as the security guards caught up with us. A couple of them chased after him, but two more remained in the room, and I realized that they were flanking Seneca. I looked up to see him gazing down at me with the same sort of disdain one might show for a mouldy piece of fruit that was no longer of any use to anyone. “Get this interloper off my property,” he ordered with a sad shake of his head. \*\*\* “You miserable old bastard!” I cursed at Orville the next morning. “You knew what that mask was!” “Of course I did! I told you what it was! What are we yelling for!” he shouted back. “You knew it wanted to use me to get away from here, and you knew someone else was after it!” I cried. “Lady, look at the front door. What does it say?” he asked. “It says *Caveat Emptor*. It means buyer beware, and it applies to everything I sell here.” “I didn’t buy it, I just put a safety deposit down on it!” I shouted. “I only wanted it for one night, and it probably would have used me until I dropped dead! And then you told that crazy jack-o-lantern-face guy where I was! I could have been killed!” “Hey, he said ‘the old man’ said you’d be there. You can’t prove he was talking about me. There are lots of old men he could have been talking about,” Orville insisted, but then let out an uneasy sigh. “Look, I’m sorry. What do you want from me?” “I want my safety deposit back!” I told him. “Absolutely out of the question! No return, no deposit! Them’s the bricks!” he shouted. “You made that agreement without ever expecting to see me again, and I wouldn’t have lost the mask if you hadn’t ratted me out to the jack-o-lantern guy! That’s maleficence, and it voids our agreement!” I said. “Maleficence! Maleficence! Of all the dirty-rotten, underhanded things I’ve been accused of over the years, no one’s ever accused me of maleficence!” he claimed. “I admit to no wrongdoing, and since returning your deposit would now be a tacit admission of guilt, I ain’t giving it back! However, in the interest of de-escalation, I’d be willing to let you take a thousand bucks worth of clearance merchandise out of here. Before taxes. And fees. And service charges.” “The only things you have on clearance are more of those magic beans, and the jar you gave me was expired!” I shouted. “Not expired; past their best before date!” Orville corrected me. “You can still use them, they just, well… let’s just say I’d recommend planting them rather than eating them. Better they be coming up through your backyard than out your back door, if you [catch](https://www.reddit.com/r/Odd_directions/) [my](https://www.reddit.com/r/TheVespersBell/) [meaning](https://www.reddit.com/r/TheCrypticCompendium/).”

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17dgkb9/the_faceless_mask/

scarystories

A_Vespertine

Strange things been happening in my house

Hi this is not overly scary or concerning but I am a little freaked out,and would like peoples opinions. So yesterday or maybe the day before i found a piece of toilet paper. A single square piece, not alarming I know but there was a drawing of a smiley face I am a father of two so went downstairs and asked my partner if kids have drawn on any toilet paper she replied no for reference they are two and one years old so can’t really draw anything that could be like this face anyway and my partner says it wasn’t her either and I cannot remember doing it but I do smoke a lot of ganja and can be forgetful so I just thought maybe I drew it a while back and just forgot or something fast forward to today the next day after finding this one bare on my mind my missus destroyed the peice and put it into the bin I took my son for a nap at lunchtime today and he sometimes climbs off the low bed and tries to get the PlayStation pads this day he did just that anyway he went to sleep eventually and I must of fallen asleep with him when I woke up I noticed in the place I store the PlayStation pads there was another toilet piece with another smiley face and this has gave me chills as my partner and daughter wasn’t home and when my son was messing with the pads I would of definitely noticed it before but it was there after we woke from the nap really freaked out either I’m going nuts or somethings not right

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17d7048/strange_things_been_happening_in_my_house/

scarystories

Rambo9318

The road to New Wilderness [Part 21]

[\[Part 20\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17chv7g/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_20/) [\[Part 22\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17e0ilp/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_22/) Air whistled by me, and my heart dropped right into my guts. *I’m not going to make it.* The rusty red exterior of a car hood swooped up, jagged glass from its windshield gaped wide like a set of crystalline jaws, and I curled my legs closer to myself to brace for impact. *Whack.* I missed the sharp glass of the broken windshield by mere inches, and somehow caught hold of an old windshield-wiper blade, managing to stop myself from rolling off the hood. *Crash.* Glass flew everywhere from half a dozen shattered windows, and sheet metal wrenched with a horrific screech. The tower of scrap I’d been in collapsed onto the one I now lay on, the two colliding just below me at the halfway point of the second tower. Its force rippled through the steel under my back, and like clockwork, the second scrap-car tower began to lean. I could smell unburned diesel on the air, little streams of it leaking from the various military fuel tanks to soak the black tendrils of the nest. Echo Spiders skittered toward my new perch, their lights bathing the area around me, blasting the air with their foghorn wails. *Bwwwooonnnggg.* All four limbs shook from exhaustion, but I forced myself onto my feet, and grabbed hold of a nearby wheel hub for support. The third tower, a heap of mostly panel vans and a school bus, reared closer, and I choked down a whimper of doubt. *That’s further than last time.* In that moment, Jamie’s face flashed through my mind. I’d known her for barely a week, and yet Jamie had been everything Carla never was; the cool older sister who included me instead of using me like an accessory, the charismatic friend who never made me the brunt of her jokes, the loyal companion who would never have skipped my birthday party for a rock concert. She was relying on me to get back, waiting on that ship with Chris in the cold, dark brig. If it were Jamie in my shoes, she would jump, without hesitation. Gritting my teeth, I pushed off the rough, flash-rusted hood of the dilapidated sedan, and lunged forward with all my might. With a roar of grinding metal, the second tower fell in sync with my movements, a rain of shredded iron and glass that decorated my peripheral vision. Wind gushed through my tangled brown tresses, fatigue pulled at my legs, and spotlights tracked me across the gray sky. I was weightless, so high that my heart threatened to stop, but like in the stairwell before, the fear melted away, and all that remained was a singular, chaotic drive. *Almost there . . .* Frigid steel closed over my waist and jerked me downward mid-flight. All the air squeezed from my lungs, as more cables wrapped around my ribcage, and stifled the scream in my throat. Lowering me to its level, the Echo Spider brought me right to the curved, peeling surface of its white satellite dish. One of the cables snaked into my hair, and jerked my head back, bright white light pouring into my eyes in a forceful stream of brilliance. *“Stop.”* The whisper came harsh now, no longer attempting to entice me. Voices raged in my head, screamed at me, berated me, and tore through my memories in a vicious spree of hate. Pain flared in my mind, the cold psychological tendrils now invasive and cruel instead of curious. They wanted me to suffer before I died, to feel every tear, every bite, every rend of my skin before I was fed to their babies. I would endure all of it, awake while their young burrowed into my chest, drank my blood, spun their telekinetic feelers into my skull, and ensnared my brain to keep me still. I would regret coming here, harming their children, trespassing on their territory. I would regret it, for every tortuous moment it took to consume me. My hand brushed a lump masked by rough woven nylon, and I blinked, some of the pain ebbing in my skull. *Not today.* Palming the green plastic detonator, I glared back into the light, and raised the clacker with a defiant sneer. “That’s a mistake.” For a brief second, the voices in my head wavered, a palpable fear running through them all, and greasy braided steel slithered up my torso, over my arm toward the remote. *Click.* I shut my eyes, blocked the voices out, and shoved away the tendrils of the Echo Spider’s control. Instead, I let myself relive that dream, that wonderful moment of Chris and I in a rowboat, floating across an absurdly large ocean of soda. What I wouldn’t have given to experience that moment, even without the soda, even in the dark, on the run, cold and miserable. *Boom.* My world lit up bright as a Christmas tree, the new beacons of red, orange, and yellow enough to drown out even the perverse false light of the Echo Spiders. Flames erupted in billows, shock rippled through the air, and colossal roars swept everything away in a surge of concussive force. All the voices in my head let out a high, alien scream, and the violating tendrils were ripped from my thoughts. Heat licked over my skin, my hair, my clothes, and tore me from the grasp of the cables in a burst that knocked all the air from my lungs. My ears rang, the world spun, and I tumbled head over heels like a rag doll. Everything whirled into a blur, and for one last moment, I caught a glimpse of the nest as flames consumed it, the Echo Spiders writhing in the blaze. *Slap.* Melting black tendons hit me so hard that my teeth rattled, but I tore right through them, and the shockwave threw me out of the nest, into the gray, dusty streets below. *Wham.* A sharp jolt of pain exploded in my left hip, and my forehead bounced off hard asphalt, sending stars through my vision. Unable to stop myself, I tumbled helpless over rocks, bricks, and metal, each poking and cutting me all the way. My gas mask filter snagged on a brick and the entire mask ripped loose from my face. A half-broken cinder block wrenched at my right ankle, and the box jammed into my spine every time I rolled over. At last, I slammed into a heap of charred wood, and white-hot pain seared through my side. *Throb.* I lay there, too stunned, broken, and worn-out to move. Hot, sticky blood dribbled across my belly button, and my Type-9 dug into my armpit, sending numb tingles up and down my right arm. A foul, musty, garlic odor burned at the back of my throat, my eyes watering, nose running. *Throb.* Thick black smoke clogged the sky, and little bits of burning debris rained around me. I began to choke, unable to draw a breath, and craned my neck to look for my gas mask. *There.* It lay not far away, maybe fifteen feet at most, nestled among the rubble. The black rubber straps hung in a tangle, the round silver-colored filter had been dented and smashed around the intake valve, and the plexiglass visor bore a small crack, but it was within my reach. Excruciating coughs wracked me, and I fought to suck in a breath, each more violent than the last. Acid seemed to flood the tender regions of my throat, and tears mixed with the snot that poured over my upper lip, dripping onto my shaking pale hands as I tried to crawl. “Come on.” Another spike of agony sliced through my torso, but I dragged myself forward with gritted teeth, muscles cramping up as the adrenaline left my system. “Just a little . . . just a little further . . .” But my lungs revolted, the hacking intensified, and I gagged, close to vomiting. Everything hurt, especially my left hip, and stiffness crept into my sore muscles like vicious snakes. With the Echo Spiders silenced, the residual ache from their attacks inside my skull became unbearable, spots dancing before my eyes from their lights. Even as the dots faded, my vision blurred in the poisonous fumes, and panic rose in my chest. I stretched out my hand, clawed the air to reach the gas mask, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get purchase. Gravity dragged my hand back down to the melted black tarmac, held me there, and my throat started to swell shut. Over. It was over. Spitting out a salty stream of mucous, I choked on a sob, and shut my eyes against the toxic air. *I’m so sorry Mom, Dad. I tried.* Shadows crept through my brain, and I curled up into a ball to keep warm, even as heat ebbed from my body. *Crunch, crunch, crunch.* Muffled feet strode over debris, and a hand slid under the back of my head to cradle it off the pavement. *Puppets.* My eyes flew open in alarm, but instead of wooden teeth and milk-white eyes, I found myself staring up at the stark cobalt yellow of a chemical suit, and a pair of silver irises behind a large plastic visor. “Breathe.” Black rubber pressed to my face, and the man snugged the gas mask straps over my head with gentle hands, his words soothing like aloe to a sunburn. “You’ve done well.” Fresh, clean air flooded into my lungs as the man screwed a new filter onto the front of my mask and smeared some clear tape over the crack in my visor. A thousand confusing thoughts swirled in my head, but they were drowned out by a surge of drowsiness. The shadows overwhelmed my field of view, and down I went, into abyssal, black unconsciousness. Images and sensations fluttered before my mind’s eye like a strange fever dream, reality intwined with nightmares so that I didn’t know what was real, and what wasn’t. A silent gray world, with ash on the wind and fire everywhere passed by at an angle while I floated off the ground. Yellow arms held me up, and everything seemed to be upside-down. I saw what remained of a tall building, something in charred red brick, surrounded by the wrecks of military trucks and dozens of civilian vehicles. The bodies here were stacked right on top of each other, as if they’d all been crawling over one another at the last, desperate moment. Whispers rose in my jumbled mind, and for a moment, I could have sworn one of the skeletons sat up to wave at me with a jovial grin. I tried to crane my neck to see, but it hurt to move. “Lie still.” The same tender baritone voice whispered to me, his pace never faltering. “This is a dangerous place. The others never made it through.” More corpses passed by on the ground, some with funny clothes on like pirates, rigid in the despair of death. Another skeleton leaned out of a ruined truck to grin at me, flashing a thumbs up as if I needed a ride in his fire-blackened pickup, and I blinked in shock. The second my eyelids peeled open, it was dark. Two-story houses and stately commercial buildings stood around a large square, not ruined but whole, the cars shiny and new, the streetlights glowing yellow in the cool misty night. People stood in a huge crowd, more coming from all directions, running, screaming, their families in tow. A thin line of gray-uniformed soldier held them back from a row of overloaded military trucks, the sky filled with the staccato of gunfire and the cries of monsters. Somehow, I could smell the smoke in the air, taste the humid midsummer breeze, and feel a stiff wind coming up from the south. Voices echoed as if from across a canyon, sobs, screams, moans of pain, and angry shouts. Curious, I peered at the people who huddled closer to the refugee caravan, my heart twinging in pity at their hopeless expressions. “*Where is she? Sarah should be here, where is she?*” A woman in rumpled sweatpants and a ‘My kid is an Honor Student’ T-shirt frantically yanked at her husband’s shirt sleeve, two little boys clinging to her legs. “*Travis will bring her, we have to go*.” The man in a green trucker’s cap and ragged blue jeans grabbed his wife’s hand to pull them all in the direction the crowds were shuffling, everyone pressing forward with pale faces and fearful eyes. “*She’ll be there, trust me. Come on, we’ve got to get a seat on the next truck!*” Sirens wailed, and somewhere in the inky black sky, long fingers of light arched into the air, like shooting stars against the clouds. “*It’s an airstrike!*” An old man shrieked, still dressed in his pajamas and slippers, and the crowd disintegrated into chaos. Many tried to charge the ranks of soldiers, and gunfire exploded across the line, bullets cutting civilians down in bloody droves. Others crawled under vehicles, while some charged nearby houses to get inside, breaking windows, and kicking down doors. They shoved and trampled each other, punched and kicked, a few waving weapons to keep fists away from their loved ones. One woman knelt in the middle of it all to hug her son and daughter close, her husband on the other side with his arms encircling them, the four people still as statues in the center of the street. Women screamed, children cried, men shouted in panic, and the whole awful cacophony rose in terrible climax as the lights came racing down. *Ka-boom.* Pain rippled through me, flames covered my sight, and I cried out in terror. My eyes blinked, and once again I saw nothing but gray sky, the husk of the old courthouse, and corpses. No skeletons moved, no corpses grinned back at me. Only the steady crunch-crunch of boots perforated the air, as I floated along over the abandoned streets. “It’s alright.” The stranger in yellow cradled me close to his chest with paternal kindness. “It was only a memory. When humans experience pain on a massive scale, it always leaves traces. Those who cannot withstand its fire are consumed by it, but you are different. That’s why you’re here, Hannah.” *He knows my name?* Unable to so much as speak, I let the pain drain away, something popping in my hip, and once again, my world went dark. Water sloshed somewhere nearby, and feet plopped through soupy muck. Dense, soft warmth wound itself around me, and I opened my eyes to see two silver irises looking down. Below them, in the sea of yellow that swam before my vision, a jumble of black squiggles stood out, their meaning slowly taking shape in my addled brain. [036.](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/12izqnm/i_worked_for_the_elsar_program_theyre_lying_about/) “Who . . . who are you?” At last, I managed to rasp out something like words, still unsure if I was dreaming, dying, or fully awake. I couldn’t be sure thanks to his gas mask, but with how his eyes shone like ancient stars, I somehow thought that the man was smiling. It was a smile that held no malice, no animosity, but instead a tenderness that reminded me of my father, and how he hugged me every time he came home from work. “A friend.” He chuckled and brushed some loose hair from my face. “Sleep now. You’re going to need it.” As if on command, my eyelids slid shut, and the stranger vanished from sight. *Thump.* Gasping, I sat up on my elbows, and blinked. *What the . . .* I lay in the bottom of my red fiberglass canoe, floating on the quiet waters of Maple Lake. The sky lay swathed in sheets of red, orange, and yellow light as the sun slipped below the horizon to the west. No ash rained down, and the air felt cool on my skin, the hot days of September drawing closer to the eventual cold fronts of October. Strange blooms glowed orange, pink, and green on the nearby shore, and crickets sang in the brush nearby. Fireflies danced with happy swoops, and in the trees, winged lizards cawed at one another in the branches, fighting over shiny bits of scrap. Bringing a trembling hand to my face, I tugged the gas mask free from my skin, and took a long, greedy gulp of sweet, fresh air. My hip no longer hurt, and as I probed my body with tentative fingers, I found new gauze taped over various wounds. A navy-blue wool blanket had been wrapped around me like a cocoon, the pinewood paddle tucked beside it, and at my feet lay the black nylon backpack. I snatched it up, and unzipped the main compartment. *Hello beautiful.* There it sat, the black polymer box, still stained with Echo Spider goo, the white lettering visible under all the dried mucous. LDB01106. I’d done it. The box was mine. Looking around, I couldn’t see the stranger anywhere, and despite the bandages, blanket, and the fact that Collingswood was nowhere in sight, I wondered if I had in fact seen him at all. Had I hallucinated in shock from my wounds? Had I managed to escape, applied first aid, and passed out in my canoe? But if that was the case, where had the blanket come from? *Bang.* I nearly jumped out of my skin and scanned the horizon. My eyes fixed on a distant cluster of shapes, long hard lines that stood out against the backdrop of trees. A huge, low-slung square sat in the water, just off the shore a quarter mile from where I floated. I could see the radio antenna atop the old bridge at the stern, the peeling numbers on the side, and the rusted anchor points for tugboats to pull it in for mooring. The abandoned coal barge. All I had to do was paddle, and I’d be there within fifteen minutes. *Bang, bang, bang . . . boom.* Dread slithered through my veins, and my triumphant smile melted away. They were shooting, shooting a lot, and that last explosion had been big enough to shake the trees. They were shooting at something . . . or someone. Grabbing the paddle from the bottom of the canoe, I drove it into the water with furious speed, and headed for the beached ship. My muscles burned, and my lungs itched from the abuse they had taken in Collingswood, but I plunged onward. The air shook with explosions, birds and beasts careened out of the trees onshore in alarm, and smoke began to rise from unseen fires. More gunshots roared into the night, a full-on firefight erupting somewhere up ahead, but I didn’t care. If Captain Roberts had broken his word, if anyone had so much as laid a finger on Jamie or Chris, I’d spend every bullet I had left to make them pay for it.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17d9ihf/the_road_to_new_wilderness_part_21/

scarystories

RandomAppalachian468

Piecemeal

Leonard Price reeled back in unbridled terror at the sight of the thing standing in his bedroom doorway. It shambled toward him on wobbling legs in the dark. Its naked feet slapped and dragged along the floor. Thick globs of putrescent flesh dripped from naked cheekbones like pancake batter. The entire room reeked of the malodorous scent of decay. The thing hissed and wheezed; the unnatural noise sounded something like a voice saying, "Piecemeal!" Leonard's mind was swimming; he couldn't focus on anything but the terror that was before his eyes—this thing that shouldn't be. If his mind had not been dizzy with madness, perhaps he would have remembered how a few days ago he stumbled into that abandoned graveyard by sheer happenstance. If he could focus on anything but the approaching horror, he might have correlated this thing's presence to the leather pouch and gold coins he found there. He would have better understood the message inscribed into the leather pouch: *The Price is Paid. Gold for flesh. Piecemeal.* How could Leonard have known what that meant? Things had been so hard on him. He was tired of always being broke. Who wouldn't have done exactly as he did if they were in the same situation? But Leonard thought nothing of that. His shattered mind could only concentrate on what was in front of him. He wanted to run, but his muscles and bones were like jelly. He wanted to scream, but only choked and sobbed. Now the thing was right in front of him, reaching for him; it grabbed him by the arm. Leonard tried to pull away, but it held onto him with an unnatural strength and pulled his arm closer to its rotted face. It opened its mouth wide and bit down. It tore through flesh and bone. Leonard found his voice at once and cried out. The thing looked at him and seemed to smile. It made another hissing, wheezing noise. "Piecemeal!" Then, as quickly as it all occurred, the thing was gone. Only the faint smell of rotting flesh remained. The room started to spin, and Leonard broke out in a cold sweat. He was in shock, but he was alive. The thing, whatever it was, bit off his pinky. Only his pinky. Leonard erupted with insane laughter. As Leonard lay on the floor, bleeding, that word kept repeating in his head. *Piecemeal.* Then he thought about the graveyard, the coins, and the cryptic message. Leonard held his injured hand close to his body and his laughter transitioned into a scream. In that moment he knew it would return. It would return, and it would devour him, one piece at a time.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17dc748/piecemeal/

scarystories

DungeonMarshal

Late Night Essay | Horror Story by Mr. Creepy Cabin | (Part 1) | Gas Sta...

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17dinu2/late_night_essay_horror_story_by_mr_creepy_cabin/

scarystories

mrcreepycabin

There’s something wrong with the new family dog…

I’m a dog person, so it’s not uncommon for me to go to local animal shelters and rescue dogs. It all started with my first German Shepard that I rescued when nobody else wanted it. I named it simba, after my favorite Disney movie The Lion King. Simba passed away about 5 years ago, the loss was so harsh, I refused to even leave my bed. However, that was a while ago and I’m much more stable now, even though simba is still very much still grieved from time to time. I’ve rescued around 4 different dogs since Simbas death, hoping to find one that could fill the hole my heart had for simba. It was frustrating, no dog that I’d rescue would replace Simba, they would never be as good as he was. That’s what I thought, until I rescued Zara. Zara was a Three week old puppy, a German Shepherd that somehow had the same brown spot on its left hind leg as Simba did. It was fate I thought, Zara will be the perfect replacement for Simba. When I first brought Zara home, she simply hid in dark corners, afraid of anything and everything. Soon she adjusted however, and began to trust me. Zara had this eerie grin that sometimes caught me off guard, but I thought nothing of it as Zara was just a puppy, and she could do no harm. My Two year old son absolutely adored Zara, he’d always find a way to be around her. But Zara didn’t seem to enjoy the presence of him at all, in fact, she’d often run away at times in hopes of looking for me. Zara grew strangely attached to me, which I didn’t mind as I was hoping to have a good connection with her. My husband is often out of town, working on various job sites. He worked hard, and made bank. Even though we never got along when we were together, I still appreciated his money. He always hated animals, he’d hate when I’d randomly bring home stray dogs. But for some reason, he’d specifically hate Zara the most. Maybe because she was special to me, or maybe just because I’d spend so much time with her, but overall, he seemed to dislike even the thought of her. One day, as I was finishing work on the computer, I suddenly heard screaming from my sons bedroom. I rushed to see what was happening, and found my son crying on the floor with a huge gash in his arm, one that none of his toys or anything around the house could’ve made. “The dog, it bit me mommy!” He screamed while grasping on to his arm, the dog was just sitting there, looking as innocently as can be. Not a trace of blood or anything i picked up my son and rushed to the hospital, leaving Zara there to deal with later. After a long wait of 3 hours in the Emergency Room, the nurse finally called us in. The doctors sat me down and recommended he’d stay in the hospital for a few days because he was at risk for “a disease.” They refused to tell me what it was, but I let them keep my son there because I too didn’t want him having a risk of carrying a disease. When I got home, my husband was laying dead on the Floor, and Zara nowhere to be found. I’m currently writing this in the closet to my bedroom. I don’t know how much longer it’ll be until she finds me, I’m hearing faint whispers and scratching coming from outside the closet door. “Let me in, mommy” they whisper. This is just my warning to you, please don’t adopt stray dogs.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17dd3zn/theres_something_wrong_with_the_new_family_dog/

scarystories

Jewels_reads777

Queen Bee

**Day 1:** After the bees disappeared they offered a solution. **Day 63:** The queen has captured the last safehouse. The drones have been roaming the street looking for prey. Rumors say the Antarctic is too cold for them, tomorrow, we begin our journey.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17dhhgx/queen_bee/

scarystories

LorneBronstein

The two head snake 🐍🐍

Does anyone have a idea what the creature was in the story I told? :-- In the year 2021 i went mud cycling with my friend ,we saw an entrance to a huge forest which is off limits. Me and my friend decided to break the rules and enter the forest,after exploring it we made it to a very still pond,when we looked down we saw something slithering and to our suprise a snake with 2 head rised. Me and my friend got very scared 😨 and ran off from the forest hoping no one would see us. I named the forest dothal snake forest because do means 2 in hindi and thal means head in Telugu so it means 2head. After two months me and my friend decided to kill the snake with our plan ,we went to the forest with bike safety gear ⚙️ ,some oil and a sand sack from my dads construction company. We plucked two of the sharpest branches in the forest ,pour oil on them and lit them on fire ,now we have fire swords ⚔️. As we reached the pond me and my friend chanted "rise serpent" ,as the snake rose up my friends threw some sand at the snake's head and blind it for a few seconds,my friend went to the back of the snake and poured all the sand on its back and now it is trapped. As the snake washed its head i threw a loth of oil on it (i was on a tree) and then i leaped on the snake piercing right through its eyes and been set on flames ,it's venom got spilt all over as it burned ❤️‍🔥 and it's skeleton slowly sank into the water 🌊 causing carbon dioxide. We Highfied each other anad went back to our homes

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17dh8ml/the_two_head_snake/

scarystories

Ashwin_1234u564

My dead friend just sent me a letter, straight from the grave, still don't know if it was a prank by someone i know!

So, a friend of mine, lets call him "John" died years ago from cancer. Some weeks ago i got a mysterious letter, from a man with my friends name, i got sent a letter. The letter didn't have a location and it was like some jokes we would say together, some common discussions we had and more, he even knew the house i moved at, how my other friends and family have been doing and more, he even talked to me about my girlfriend, which he never got to meet. The letter then said like: cya man we will meet again. Still don't know who sent this, but i want to find out, i don't have pics of the letter, cause i accidentally threw it away when i was cleaning up my room. If i get another letter, ill keep you guys updated...

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17d49uv/my_dead_friend_just_sent_me_a_letter_straight/

scarystories

Konsupercool

my own scary experience

hello! i just installed this app so i could tell my story. i live in the country side so when i go outside i can stay for however long i want because im 10 minutes away from home. so this summer i was outside for as long as 10 hours. i remember that night perfectly. it was august and my mom was desperately calling me to go home because it was 11pm and it was already pitch black outside. my friend lives pretty close to me so we both went home at the same time. so about 5 minutes before i got home she had to leave. i always take my headphones with me because when i have my music i don't feel alone. so as i was walking home a power outage took place so all the street lights turned off. my phone was at 10% so i hurried home. when i was about 100 meters away from home i called my mom to reassure her that im close to which she responded "ok im waiting at the window" she was talking about the window that faces the road i take to come home. i get 30 meters in front of my house and on the window she was supposed to be looking, stood a woman with long black hair. i felt her staring into my soul so i called my mom and told her to which she said "what do you mean? im still at work, nobody's home" at this point i was scared and confused, just 2 minutes ago she told me that she was waiting for me. then to my surprise i see my friend calling me, she asks me "hey why do you walk so fast? i tried to catch up to you when the lights turned off. i screamed but you didn't seem to hear me" to which i said "but, where are you now?" she says "im right here, next to your neighbour's house (my neighbour lives about 100 meters away from me so from their house there's no houses and then it's my house) i looked behind me but there was no one, absolutely no one. i was trembling. i closed my eyes and screamed. when i opened my eyes, i was in the house, my mom was looking at me very confused. but she was just as confused as i was..

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17d83c0/my_own_scary_experience/

scarystories

dontknowwhoicouldbe

The Enabler

As Michael regained consciousness, he found himself lying on a cold, damp concrete floor in what appeared to be a dimly lit basement. The hopper windows were covered with black trash bags. Michael's hands were zip-tied together at the wrist, and his ankle was chained to a heavy lead pipe nearly the width of his thigh. His head was splitting, and he felt nauseous. Where was he? How did he get there? It was not long after waking up that he heard the basement door above him creak open and heavy footsteps descend the stairs. Michael looked up and saw the rotund figure of Benjamin Mercer carrying boxes of doughnuts stacked on top of each other. Benjamin and Michael had been friends since high school. Although, they hadn't really hung out much over the last few years. Michael started to remember the events prior to waking up in the cellar. Having been invited to dinner at Benjamin's house. Over the phone, Ben insisted he come, saying that he had something important to tell him. He started to recall eating supper while he caught up with his old friend and how, after the meal, he began to feel light-headed and woozy. "Oh! good. You're awake," Benjamin said nonchalantly. "I brought your lunch." He placed the doughnuts on the floor in front of Michael and took one out for himself. He sat down on a metal folding chair not far from where Michael lay captive and bit into the jelly bismarck.   "Ben, what? Why? I don't... I don't understand." As Michael spat out sentence fragments, he struggled to break his bonds. "Don't bother with that, Mike. I doubt you could break those zip-ties if you weren't drugged." "Ben, we were...we *are* friends. Why...?" "I thought we were friends too, Mike," Benjamin said as he casually took another bite of his doughnut. "Until I started reflecting on things lately." Michael looked up at Benjamin incredulously, not knowing where any of this was going or how much longer he would even be alive. "Friends should support one another, don't you think? And you were never very supportive, were you? "Do you remember when we both worked at the paper factory and I had been dieting? But every day, you'd offer me a doughnut with a smile, right? I guess it's the human condition to not want to see others improve themselves where they themselves can't. I held firm for thirty-two days before you broke me." "That's what this is about? Doughnuts? Ben, you've lost your mind, man. Let me go, *please.*" Benjamin's eyes narrowed, and his face grew stern. "This isn't about doughnuts. It's about what it means to be a friend." Benjamin's face relaxed; he leaned back in his chair and finished the doughnut. After wiping his mouth, he pulled an off-brand pack of cigarettes from a shirt pocket and lit up. "You told me last night you haven't smoked in five years, Mike. That's quite an accomplishment. I couldn't quite make it a year, could I? Of course, you were always there to offer me one. To tempt me back into the habit that I desperately wanted to leave behind. You couldn't guess how many times you offered me a cigarette, but believe it or not, I actually kept count. Three hundred and one times, Mike. I kept to my guns pretty well, too. Until the day my mother passed away, my spirit was crushed, my will was weak, and there you were, pack in hand, cigarette drawn out. Do you remember that?" "Ben, I..." "Shut up, Mike! I'm talking now, and you might just learn something. "I told you I needed to tell you something important. Well, here it is. I'm dying, Mike. Lung cancer. I've kinda suspected it for awhile. But last week, it was confirmed. But, hey! At least I've lost some weight." Ben took a deep drag from his cigarette and stared hard at Michael.   "So you're going to kill me? Is that it?" Michael's fear was now only slightly overshadowed by growing anger. "I'm not going to kill you, Mike. I'm going to teach you how to be a better friend." Benjamin stood up from the chair and walked nearer, where Michael lay chained and bound. "There are thirty-two doughnuts in front of you, Michael, one for every time you offered me one while I was trying to diet. But you better make them last. They'll be your breakfast, lunch, and supper for awhile." Benjamin took one last drag from his cancer stick and bent down in front of Michael. After exhaling the noxious smoke in his face, he snuffed the cigarette out just below Michael's left eye. As Michael screamed in pain, Benjamin said, "That's one."

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17d3vva/the_enabler/

scarystories

DungeonMarshal

Ms. Laurie’s Power Pops

“Mommy, I can’t find my hat!” My seven year old daughter, Rosemary, yelled from her bedroom upstairs. “Did you look in your closet where I hung it up?” I yelled back, semi-annoyed, as I finished buttoning the cloak her twin brother Ben was wearing as part of his costume. A few moments of silence passed before a high pitched “found it!” sounded throughout the house. I rolled my eyes as I did a final once-over of Ben’s wizard costume before patting his shoulders and releasing him to go fetch his candy bag. Rosie came barreling down the stairs in her completed witch costume with a big ol’ smile plastered on her face. Her long black curls matched perfectly with her frilly black witch dress and her black and white striped stalkings brought out her baby blues. The cheap little cinnamon broom I got her really tied the whole look together. “Ta-da!” She said proudly doing jazz hands and everything. I smiled back at her and clapped my hands at the seven year old awesomeness standing before me. Halloween is always a chaotic day in the Jennings household. Between last minute costume changes/repairs, decorating, and making sure Rosie doesn’t eat all the trick-or-treaters candy, it’s hard to keep my head on straight. The twins have loved Halloween since before they could even understand what it meant. The day has its challenges, which is already harder since I’m a single mom, sure, but the big, bright smiles on their faces and the happiness in their eyes at the end of the night makes everything worth it. “Ben, hurry up and come back here so I can take pictures of you and your sister!” I called out as I positioned my daughter in front of the front door and took some solo pics. Ben emerged from his room and quickly made his way down the stairs and next to his little sister (he’s older by three minutes). I couldn’t help but feel a little sad as the photo shoot commenced. My kids were seven years old already. This would probably be the last year where I could convince them to dress up in twin costumes since next year they’ll want to dress up as something unique to them. It’s kinda weird seeing my children grow into their own separate personalities. Ben looks like the gender bent version of Rosemary with his short black hair, freckles, and sparkling blue eyes, but other than looks, they are polar opposites. Rosie is my little firecracker. She’s very extroverted and loves talking and playing with the other kids, always has something to say, kind of a tomboy, and is a magnet for trouble. Ben, on the other hand, is more introverted, likes keeping to himself, reading, and is very clingy towards me. I have to admit, I find myself favoring Ben a little more over Rosemary because of how easy he is to parent (and the fact he’s a total mama’s boy). Most parents lie when they say they don’t have a favorite kid. Don’t get me wrong, I love both my children equally and with all my heart, but being a single parent and having to deal with an energetic kid such as Rosie can be exhausting and that leads me to being short tempered with her at times. I didn’t say I was a perfect parent, but I try my best with the both of them. “Mama, is it time to go yet?” Rosie asked, jumping up and down as she tugged on my sleeve anxiously. Ben nodded his head and looked up at me with big excited eyes. I checked the time on my phone, which read four-thirty. I then snuck a peak out of the window besides the front door and saw a few kiddos and their parents out on the street already. I sighed and began putting my shoes on. My kids started cheering giddily as they no doubt were thinking about all the candy they would score this evening. I grabbed the large bowl with a pumpkin face on it full of candy and placed it on top of a tray-table I’d set up by the front door with a “take one” sign taped to it. Are there going to be kids that take entire handfuls? Yes. Did I care? Not really, since I’d be taking my mom tax out of whatever candy my children collected. I flipped the porch light on, shoo’d my kids out of the house, then locked the door. “Where should we go first?!” Ben asked excitedly as he scanned all the houses he could see from the porch. As if on cue, my next door neighbor came out of her house holding a baking tray with some type of treat on them. She turned her head, smiled and waved, then motioned for us to come over. Ben and Rosie’s eyes lit up and they sprinted across the lawn for her house. I waved back before chasing after my kids. “Trick-or-treat!” They both shouted in unison, holding their empty pillowcases wide open for a delectable treat to be dropped inside. Laurie, my neighbor, smiled down at my children before saying,” Hi Ben! Hi Rosemary! Happy Halloween, why don’t you each pick one?” I got a closer look at the treats in the baking pan and it was a bunch of different colored lollipops wrapped in plastic wrap with cute little light blue bows. My kids looked at me for approval and I nodded my head. “Ooh! Ooh! I want the red one!” Rosemary said as she picked one off the tray. Ben thought carefully, tapping his chin, before picking his,“ I want blue raspberry!” I rolled my eyes as of course they each picked their favorite color. “What do you say to Ms. Laurie, children?” “Thank you!” They both said in unison, again. “You’re very welcome,” Laurie started before gesturing to the pile of sweets,” why don’t you try them? I made them all myself!” I was very surprised and caught off guard when I heard this. While it was sweet of her to go through all that effort, it was totally unlike her. Normally on Halloween Laurie’s porch light is off and she never hands out candy. I think of her as The Grinch but for Halloween sometimes. That’s probably why she was standing outside so people could see she had treats with her. “Don’t worry Lisa, I didn’t poison them or anything!” Laurie laughed jokingly,” I recently got into candy making as a hobby and I’m thinking of opening a small business. Tonight is a trial run for my lollipops.” I felt a little better after hearing her explanation and gave my kiddos the go ahead. They ripped the wrapping off instantly and popped the treats into their mouths. Judging by the looks on their faces, they were pretty good. “That’s very impressive! Can I have one?” I asked while reaching my hand out. Laurie jerked the tray away from me and slapped my hand. “No!” She yelled defensively. They are for the children only! It’s Halloween after all.” I rubbed my stinging hand,“I thought you said it was a trial run for your small business. Shouldn’t you want opinions from all demographics?” “My demographics are children, since mostly children eat candy. Now please continue onward, you’re crowding my porch and more children are coming.” I looked behind me to see a kid in an Ironman costume and his mother walking up behind us. Grabbing my kids hands, we started walking to the next house. An uneasy feeling sunk to the bottom of my stomach and I started to regret letting my kid eat those lollipops. Maybe she really did poison them? If she didn't, something definitely felt off. Call it a mother’s intuition. My train of thought was broken when Rosie tugged on my sleeve. She pulled a green lollipop out of a pocket in her dress and handed it to me. “Ta-da!” She said like she pulled it out of the ether. “Rosemary!” I said in surprise. “Did you steal this from Ms. Laurie?” “I used my witch powers to magically teleport it from the tray into my hand when she wasn’t looking.” She admitted. “We do not steal, and if you do, the item is to be returned.” I lectured, unwrapping the lollipop and sticking it in my mouth. It was green apple flavored. It was pretty tasty with just the right amount of salty and sweetness. “But mom, you’re eating the stolen thing right now!” Ben pointed out. A muffled,“Do as I say, not as I do” came out of my lollipop filled mouth. The kids then ran up to the next house to get some more candy. *** About an hour later, in a less crowded part of the subdivision, we came across Jackson Hunter and his friend Luke smashing pumpkins. “Hey!” I yelled from across the street. The two boys ignored me. “Hey!” I yelled again, dragging my kids across the street with me. “Jackson where is your little sister? I thought your mom told you to take her trick-or-treating!?” The Hunter family lived across the road from us. Jackson is the oldest of the two and Jaime was born after the cut off so she’s almost a year older than my little ones, but in the same grade as them. His mom , Jennifer, and I are on the PTA board together and we like to gossip sometimes. Jackson wiped some pumpkin guts off the pants of his pirate costume and pointed down the street to a small blonde figure dressed as Glenda the Good Witch from The Wizard of Oz. “She’s just down the street. I can see her.” The overprotective mama bear in me made me see red, but I kept it in and kept my cool. “Just wait until your mother hears about this.” I said under my breath as I left the twelve year old tween and his friend to their pumpkin destruction. He just sucked his tongue between his teeth and went back to goofing off. “C’mon children.” I said back to my kids as we made our way to the house where Jaime Hunter was trick-or-treating at. “Mooooom, please don’t make us go over there and talk to her. She’s weird!” Rosie begged, holding on to my arm and dragging her feet. “Rosie! That is not nice to say about someone,” I scolded,” besides, I thought the three of you were friends.” “She is my friend, mom, I don’t mind going trick-or-treating with her.” Ben said, grabbing my open hand. “See?” I said to Rosemary, who had an upset scowl on her face,” you’ll be fine.” After a few more steps we caught up with Jaime. “Hey, sweet! Got a bunch of candy?” I asked from behind in my nice mom voice. “Hi, Mrs. Jennings. Yeah I’ve got a good amount! My shoulder is starting to hurt a bit.” Jaime answered timidly. “What do you say you come trick-or-treating with us? Don’t worry, I’ll text your mom and tell her.” I stuck my hand out for her to grab. She took it and we started towards the next house, texting her mom in between houses. Ben struck up a conversation with Jaime about how they were all dressed in the same theme and how Jaime and Rosie were both witches. Rosie walked a bit slower than the rest of us and kept quiet when Ben started to compare her to Jaime. It was unusual to see Rosie so quiet and reserved. I didn’t want to force her to do anything she didn’t want to do so I didn’t say anything and the kids candy sacks got heavier and heavier. *** We went home around seven forty-five because Rosie started to not feel well. Rosie, the stubborn child she is, wanted to keep going, even though we got a good four hours and fifteen minutes of trick-or-treating in, but I pulled the plug because she wasn’t looking too hot. Since Halloween was on a school night all the youngin’s went home early, so a lot of the older kids were out now. “I’m hot!” She kept complaining on the way back home, even after she took off her cape, hat, and gave me her candy bag to hold as we walked. I cursed myself for not bringing a bottle of water for them to drink out of. Ben looked a little pale as well, but if he wasn’t feeling good he wasn’t saying anything about it. Again, my mind went back to Laurie Powell’s lollipops and the thought of her poisoning my twins had my stomach in knots. We didn’t really know much about her anyway since she mostly keeps to herself. She says hi every know and then when we see her out of her house but other than knowing her name, I don’t have a single clue about that woman or her background. She could be a convicted felon for all I know, and I let her feed my children homemade candy that could’ve been poisoned, or even drugged. I dropped Jaime off at her house before walking across the street back to mine. Laurie was on her porch just observing the neighborhood. The lollipop tray was empty and she was just rocking back and forth in a rocking chair on her porch smoking a cigarette. I didn’t acknowledge her as my sole focus was on my child. I started to draw a bath for Rosie as I sent her to her room to change out of her costume. Ben ran to his room to probably start sorting his goodies and prepping for their “store” they held every Halloween. The tub was almost full of water when the smoke detectors starting blaring throughout my house. I stopped the faucet and ran out into the hall. My heart sunk when I saw smoke coming out from under Rosie’s door. “Rosie!” I screamed as I raced to her room. Ben quickly emerged from his room and followed me. I didn’t even care that the door handle burned my hand when I opened it. The sight before me was… shocking to say the least. Rosie’s room was on fire alright, but the fire was coming out of her hands. A terrified expression was glued to her face as she stared at the inferno coming from her. “Rosie?” I said quietly, not believing what I was seeing. When she looked over to her brother and I, the flames direction changed and started spreading right for us. Suddenly loud creaking and moaning came from within my walls. There was barely anytime to register what was happening when my walls burst open and water started spilling on the flames. Great! On top of fire damage, I can add bursted water pipes to my list of shit to worry about. I looked down at Ben as he stood there wide-eyed. He then looked back at the bathroom and suddenly the water that filled the tub was gliding in the air and into his sister’s room. “B-Ben? Are you doing this?!?” I asked, bringing my hand to my mouth, shaking. When he looked up at me the giant puddle of water flying through my house stopped. Well there’s the answer to my question. A small shriek escaped my lips when the window in Rosemary’s room shattered from the heat. This prompted Ben to control the bath water and he dumped it in the room. In a second the flames were put out and all that remained in Rosie’s room was the scorched remains of her bed and a soaking wet Rosie. “Rosie, oh my god!” I screamed as I dashed straight for her, locking her in a bear hug. “I-I don’t know what happened.” She stammered out. “I was fine one second then the next… fire.” “What was that? Rosie…” I then looked behind me to her twin brother,” Ben, you… what the hell is going on? How did you do that?” “I- I dunno.” Ben muttered, still stunned. Suddenly, Rosie burst into tears. “G-get away from me!” She yelled as she seemed to realize what happened. “Rosie…” I said calmly. “I-I don’t want to hurt you.” “You’re not going to hurt us, Rosie. Just calm down sweetie.” I reassured her. “No! I- I’m always screwing things up! Always getting in trouble… I’ll never be as smart and perfect as Ben! Even now, he’s the one that saved you, mom. All I ever do is destroy.” “Rosie, that’s not true!” Ben said, running up to his sister and grabbing her hands. “No!” She yelled again, ripping her hands away from Ben,” I don’t want to cause any more damage.” Rosie then made a dash for it downstairs. Ben and I rushed after her, but she was too fast and was half way down the street when I got out of my house. Crazy and maniacal laughter sounded from Laurie’s porch before she stumbled off her porch and into my side of the yard. “I can’t fucking believe it! It worked! I’m going to be so fucking rich!” She cackled. “Wha-what the hell are you going on about?” I stammered out. My eyes still on my daughter running from me. “My serum, It worked! My synthetic neurotransmitters successfully created new pathways in the brain, unlocking the children’s ability to use superpowers! Freaking superpowers! I’ve just created a new race of super soldiers, and those fuckheads that call themselves my fellow scientists told me I’d never make the impossible possible! I’m a genius!!” She ranted. “You experimented on unsuspecting children?” I screamed as I finally understood what she was talking about. “You gave children superpowers?!” My rage bubbled up within me as I marched towards Laurie. “Ben close your eyes!” I yelled behind me, giving him time to cover them. I then wound my arm up and upper-cut the confused looking Laurie square in the jaw. Pain burst around my knuckles, but I didn’t care at this point. I’d deal with Laurie later. For now, her being knocked unconscious was enough for me. I quickly got my car keys from inside and headed over to my Jeep, only to find that my tires had been slashed. Great. I’ll have to find Rosie on foot. It wasn’t until after I turned around back to get Ben that I noticed Jaime watching everything from across the street. “Jaime?! How long have you been out here?” “A while. My parents starting fighting about Jackson again.” “Don’t repeat what you just saw me do, ever, okay?” “Okay, Mrs. Jennings.” “Did you eat a lollipop?” “Yes, Mrs. Jennings.” Fan. Fucking. Tastic. “Just stay out of trouble, okay?” I said, grabbing Ben and heading the direction Rosie went in. “I-I’m coming with you!” She shouted as she began following us. “Stay here out of trouble, Jaime. She gave out all of her lollipops, there’s no telling what kind of chaos is about to go down.” “I’d be safer with you then, wouldn’t I? Instead of by myself? I’m coming.” I caved, rolled my eyes, and started jogging the direction Rosie went in. “Just tell me if you start feeling weird or anything.” It wasn’t long before things started happening. Someone’s kid got electric powers or something and a whole block’s lights were fried. Screams of all varieties sounded through the streets as kids started developing different powers. Soon police, fire, and EMT sirens could be heard and weird smells started filling the air. I made sure Ben, Jaime, and I stuck to the sidewalk and guarded them as we searched for Rosie. Luckily for us we found a trail of small Rosemary sized burned footprints in the concrete and started following it. I grew weary as the sounds of wet squelches and familiar laughter filled the air as we neared the street I’d encountered Jackson on earlier. When we created the hill I wasn’t thrilled to have been right. Jackson and Luke were still smashing peoples Jack-O-Lanterns and pumpkins, but with a disturbing new method. It seems Jackson also ate one of Ms. Laurie’s power pops and developed an ability where he could enlarge his fist to the size of a basketball and smash pumpkins using it. He seemed to be having a blast using his new power to destroy things. Luke must’ve gotten super strength because the ground shook every time he punched a pumpkin. “Hey! Quit that!” I yelled. Jackson raised his enlarged fist at me and I took a cautious step back. “Or what? Tell my mommy again? Tch. Please.” Jackson and Luke started laughing again. “If you don’t piss off, I’ll do more than slash your tires!” He jeered. “Why you little shit-“ Jackson then raised his fist and me again and then walked towards the closest car parked on the street. He then raised he unnaturally large fist and slammed it on the hood of the car, causing the car to flip in the air and land on the hood. It started beeping and the owners of the car rushed out of their house. “Awesome!” Jackson laughed to himself. “Dude, what the hell?” Luke said as he went to punch Jackson in the arm for the scolding of a lifetime they were about to get. As soon as Luke’s hand made contact with Jackson’s arm the sound of bone crunching and skin and muscle tearing apart sounded through the street. Jackson’s arm went flying in front of the angry couple storming towards them. It took a second for Jackson’s agony filled screams to come out of his mouth. In a panicked retaliation, he enlarged his other fist and went for Luke’s head like it was a pumpkin. Blood and brain matter flew everywhere. I quickly scooped up Jaime and made a run for it, not wanting her to see anymore carnage. I heard Jackson’s body fall limp on the ground behind me, followed by the woman’s shocked screams. I kept running and searching, screaming Rosie’s name, holding Jaime tight in my arms as I did so. Ben kept up behind me, also screaming his sisters name. The pit in my stomach told me things were going to get much worse the later I stayed out, and I wanted to find my daughter and get her to safety as fast as I could. Soon, kids who figured out their powers were roaming the streets, talking to their friends and showing one another their powers. I’m assuming the rebellious ones learned how to detain their parents in a way, but there was also the chance a lot of parents were murdered by their kids powers, like how I almost died earlier. An obnoxious little girl stopped talking to her group of friends before stopping right in front of us, with a devilish little smile on her face. I didn’t want to engage so I tried to go around, but she just moved in my way again. “Excuse me.” I said timidly, afraid of what this little girl could do to me. “Not so fast. I wanna show Jaime my superpowers!” The girl, dressed as Isabella from Encanto, said in a sickly-sweet tone. I slowly set Jaime down on the ground next to me. Ben held my hand and hid behind my legs. “Look weirdo!” She then twirled in her purple dress. “I’m just like Isa, I can grow flowers!” “Very cool, Natalie. Can we go now?” Jaime said in an unamused tone. “Nope! I bet you didn’t even get a power because you’re so weird!” The little girl teased. “Hey that’s enough!” I shouted. Suddenly a vine grew over my mouth and prohibited me from talking. The fire hydrant next to me started shaking as Ben stared menacingly at the girl, but I waved my hand trying to call him off. “Even if you did get a power I bet it’s a lame one!” Natalie jeered as her friend standing a few yards away we’re laughing and pointing at Jaime. “You’re just a loser! A nobody! A weirdo!” I looked down next to me to see Jaime staring intensely at the little girl in front of me. Suddenly the little shit stopped talking and terror flooded her eyes. Natalie’s eyes grew red and blood started pouring out of her nose the more intense Jaime stared. Then two wet pops sounded out as the little girls eyeballs fell out of the sockets. The girls watching from afar screamed as they watched their friends face swell up and explode. Blood, guts, and body matter sprayed everywhere as the little girl imploded right in front of me. The vines from my face fell as bits of the purple dress rained down from the sky. Jaime then shot a glare at the group of girls which caused them to scream and scatter away. Ben’s grip on my sleeves tightened as he processed what just happened. I took a cautious step away from the blood covered Jaime. Her once blonde hair was stained a sickening reddish brown. The cutest, nicest, and most timid, little girl I’ve ever known just murdered a girl with her mind in front of me and my son. She smiled, wiped her face, and looked up at me. “I don’t like bullies.” I gave her a small, nervous, smile before we stepped over what was left of Natalie, and continued to search for Rosie. Who in the world thought it was a good idea to give children superpowers?!

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17d1mrb/ms_lauries_power_pops/

scarystories

spnsuperfan1

(Traumatizing) My ex would have weird dreams about me after asking me to watch her in her sleep

I'll call myself Jake for this post and I'll call her Sarah. It started through text..Sarah asked me to watch over her as she slept. I wasnt there physically but she asked pretty much every night after she had this dream about me when I did it. In her dream I was looking through her window kinda smiling and she said she felt safe. To me that was just a dream..but it started feeling strange how she described it as if it was someone actually in her dreams like in her mind. She said I would just watch her through this window as she was in bed. Like straight up a window was open it was dark out she was in bed and I would just be there right outisde the window watching her. After a while it goes on and I'm still not freaked out until she started saying I was now standing in her room every night in her dream watching her..just standing there kinda smiling watching her. I started to get very disturbed after she had this one dream..more like a nightmare. She said it was like the normal dream except while I was standing there I said "I'm not Jake" and she woke up crying calling me scared out of her mind. That's when she decided to start sleeping over at my place. It really messed with her for some reason. So she doesn't ask me to watch over her after that and we're all cuddled up every night. For a while I forgot all about it I mean it was just a dream..or so I thought. One night I wake up and she's sitting up beside me in bed with a blank stare saying "I'm not Jake..I'm not Jake..". I tried to lightly shake her and wake her up and thought she was just in some kinda night terror or something. She wouldn't react at all and I stopped for a second and held her arms looking at her saying "Sarah are you ok?" She turned her head and kinda smiled and said "I'm not Sarah"

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17cti53/traumatizing_my_ex_would_have_weird_dreams_about/

scarystories

brownassasin

Ms. Laurie’s Power Pops [Part 2]

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

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17d1myt/ms_lauries_power_pops_part_2/

scarystories

spnsuperfan1

The Creature

The night was dark and eerie, and I was on my way home from a late night out. I never expected what I encountered on my journey. As I walked down the street, I noticed something lurking in the shadows. I thought I could make out a figure, but it was too dark to tell. As I got closer, I noticed that it was a strange creature. It had a slimy, hairy body with a grotesque face. It was calling out to me in a strange, animal-like voice. "Come closer," it said. "Taste the sweet, delicious milk from my body." I was tempted by the creature's offer, and I couldn't resist. I crept closer and tasted the milk. It was sweet and delicious. I drank it greedily, and as I did, I felt a change come over me. My skin began to wrinkle and shrink, and my hair began to grow thicker and slicker. I was becoming the creature, or it was becoming me. I was trapped - addicted to the milk, and destined to become the creature. As it stole my life from me, I could only scream in terror as the creature became what I once was. The creature had stolen my form. The creature with my body led me to a forgotten corner of the city, to an old abandoned building. I had no choice. I followed it inside. The creature laughed as it led me through the darkness to a large chamber. Inside, there were many other creatures, all just like me, all had drank the creature's milk. I was horrified and disgusted, but I was also strangely drawn to them. I felt a strange connection to them. I was one of them now. I knew that I must take victims so that they may drink my milk too and become hideous, so that I may steal their form. I wished I could go back, but it was too late. I was the creature now yearning, craving, aching to be milked. I could feel the creature's influence in my mind, making me do things I never thought I would do. I was no longer in control of myself. I soon found myself roaming the dark alleys of the city, hunting for victims. I could only have their body for a short time before I became a creature once more. Each body I took, each creature I made only made me ache more to be milked. I was never satisfied. Night after night I hunted, I knew I would never be able to escape this fate, and I resigned myself to my new life. I was now the creature.

https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/17cykmp/the_creature/

scarystories

Dramatic-Channel-214