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September 2022 Voting Thread

y593n3

nosleep

https://www.reddit.com/r/NoSleepOOC/comments/y58yme/september_2022_voting_thread/

Halloween 2022 contest details!

y5ktsi

nosleep

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/y5ktsi/halloween_2022_contest_details/

[https://www.reddit.com/r/NoSleepOOC/comments/y5kq7q/halloween\_2022\_contest\_details/?utm\_source=share&utm\_medium=web2x&context=3](https://www.reddit.com/r/NoSleepOOC/comments/y5kq7q/halloween_2022_contest_details/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3)

We never open the door when there's only one knock

yerkt9

nosleep

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/yerkt9/we_never_open_the_door_when_theres_only_one_knock/

"Please, just let me in, it's getting cold!" The voice was familiar, only older than I remembered. Very close to detail. "Lala, please." Using my old nickname was a nice touch as well. I sat on the floor next to the door, my arms wrapped around my legs. Or course this had to happen the one week my parents left me alone. They hadn't gone on vacation for years, I practically begged them to get away for a while. For their own good. If I called them, they'd come right back but I don't think that would have helped me anyway. Besides, I wasn't an idiot. I heard the knock and I would not open that door. When someone comes to your house, they will ring the bell or knock a few times. Most people like to play safe and simply use the bell. And then you open the door as you normally would. But never, absolutely never, should you open the door when there's only one knock. It was the very first thing we were told when we moved to this neighborhood all those years ago. There are a bunch of rumors, of people disappearing or suddenly dying after opening their doors though they all supposedly happened before we even lived here. I never believed in it, even when I was little. This town was simply insane, most people here were a little eccentric and unusual. Well, that's what I believed until I heard my lost sister call for me, after the one loud knock on our front door. "Please, go away," I whispered. Even after all those years, I recognized her voice. And when I heard it I jumped right up, ready to open that door wide. But I knew it wasn't her. I'd looked through the window. There was nobody in front of our door. I don't know how much time had passed before I finally grabbed my phone and called Max who's not only our neighbor but one of my closest friends. "She's here," I said. I knew I wasn't making much sense, I didn't know how to word my thoughts. "Who? Where?" He answered. "Ruby." Silence. "Wha-," Max started speaking but stopped. "She knocked." That was enough information for him. "You didn't open, did you?" I shook my head which of course he couldn't see. "I'm coming over now, okay?" \-- I'm not sure how many minutes passed but Ruby had stopped asking me to open the door. "Hey, Lainey, I don't think the bell is working," I heard Max. "Maybe they screwed with it." I swallowed. "You could knock." There was silence for a little while, followed by one loud thud. When I didn't open the door, the sound of Max started shouting loudly. "Open the fucking door!" His voice became louder and louder until it hit a frequency that almost made my eardrums explode. I didn't move, I didn't speak and finally, the doorbell rang and the voice became silent. Slowly I got up from the door to look outside. This time it was really him. \-- "The last time I saw her we had the biggest fight of our lives." We were sitting in the living room with tea that had already turned cold. I don't open up about Ruby often but hearing her voice today really messed me up. "And all because of stupid Jack," I rolled my eyes. Max smiled. "A boy?" I shook my head and laughed. "Jack was a stuffed toy in the shape of a pumpkin." I’d never told Max about the fight, in fact, nobody but my parents knew about it. "I loved that damn thing. Won it at the Halloween carnival. When Ruby saw it she begged me to give it to her, she cried for hours because she hadn't won it. And even when my parents said she'd buy her another toy she wouldn't stop. She wanted mine." "Well, she wanted to be just like you. It's sweet." I nodded. Ruby was a year younger than me but she used to act as if we were twins. She wore my clothes, played the same sports, and always wanted to hang out with me and my friends. When I think about it now I think it was adorable, of course back then I found it insufferable. I sighed. "For days I took Jack everywhere with me, even to the bathroom. It was probably just out of pettiness but that toy became everything to me. So when I came home from school one afternoon and saw that Ruby had cut it in half I screamed at her like never before. She only looked at me with big teary eyes." Max put his hand on my shoulder. "Come on Lainey, siblings fight, it's normal. I saw you with her though and you were a damn good big sister." I nodded. Of course, I knew it was just some stupid fight between kids but if I could turn back time I'd give her every shitty toy I owned. This happened five years ago. Ruby would be sixteen now. My parents have tried everything for years to find her. I believe the only reason we *still* live here is that they never entirely gave up the hope that she'd come back home one day. Maybe now she was. Just in a different way. "Do you think I'm losing my mind, Max?" He raised an eyebrow. "I think you lost that a whole while ago," he joked. "No, I'm serious. I mean it's not possible that I actually heard her earlier?" He shrugged. "I mean, you did hear a knock. I don't think it was actually *her* though." Max and I used to make fun of the superstition. When we were younger, before Ruby disappeared, we once played ding dong ditch. After a few houses, Max decided to knock once at the door of our neighbor Mrs. Tellski. Someone saw us though and Max got the biggest lecture of his life from his grandpa. Like it was a really big deal. My parents weren't happy either, but Max was grounded for two months, during which his grandpa told him all sorts of horror stories from this town. "I don't think it was her either. But I do think it was mimicking her, or trying to." "For what it's worth, I think it was smart that you didn't open the door. Maybe we're all just a little crazy but better safe than sorry, right?" \-- Max offered to stay the night and I immediately said yes. We got the air mattress and watched movies until I started to hear him snoring. The good thing about Max was, I never felt awkward around him. He regularly stayed over since we were little. Especially often after Ruby was gone. Having him here really helped against the silence. My mind became easier, and my body heavier. Real thoughts started to mix with dreams, I was beginning to fall asleep. And then there was another knock. It came from the front door downstairs but I heard it loud and clearly My heart started racing just like it did this afternoon. "Max, did you hear that?" I whispered but he didn't answer. "Lala, it's dark. Please come and get me," Ruby's new voice cried from outside. "Max, please tell me you hear this." I looked over at him, but he didn't move. Finally, I collected the courage to get up and turn on the lights. "Ma-," The eyes of my friend were wide open but he didn't speak. He didn't move. "I ran over to him and tried to shake him but his whole body was stiff. Only his eyes moved." "LET ME IN!" The voice from downstairs screamed. I didn't know what to do anymore. Max was clearly awake but it seemed as if something was holding him back. Almost like he was having sleep paralysis but with his eyes open. "They're pulling me away, Lala, please help me." I don't know what happened then, but I immediately jumped up and ran downstairs. Some kind of instinct kicked in. Maybe it was her. Maybe I could pull her back inside. But if this was really Ruby, was she also the one doing this to Max? My hands touched the cold door handle, moving almost as if I was in a trance. "I have Jack. They fixed him, Lala. We don't need to fight anymore." Those words pierced through my body and woke something up inside of me. I stepped away from the door and walked back upstairs passing my room where Max was still living still. But I didn't stop, I walked to the next room. Ruby's old bedroom. Everything there looked just the way it did when she was still here. My parents could never change it. Everything was still the same. And Jack was still placed on her bed where I put it five years ago after I'd sewn him back together. [They almost got me.](https://www.reddit.com/r/Likeeyedid/)

How to Survive College - but seriously, how do you manage to make dinosaurs boring???

yegewf

nosleep

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/yegewf/how_to_survive_college_but_seriously_how_do_you/

Let’s recap. It’s been a little bit since [my last post](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/xyjhib/how_to_survive_college_the_old_and_the_new/). [If you’re new here](https://www.reddit.com/r/goatvalleycampgrounds/comments/s75n1c/how_to_survive_college_index/), I grew up in a small town with a campground that some of you are very familiar with. I worked there through highschool with nothing unremarkable happening until after graduation. My boyfriend was killed, the future I thought I was doomed for vanished, and I decided to take my life in my own hands and go to college instead. I thought about writing something insightful about how we can’t escape our pasts, but I don’t think that’s what’s happening here. I brought my past with me in the form of ties I can’t bring myself to sever and as knowledge most people don’t have and don’t want if they know what’s good for them. And what’s happening at my college isn’t like what I grew up with. It’s different. It’s like we’ve been swaddled here into this cocoon so that in four years we might emerge as something new. And the college and the *things* contained within are also changing into something new. A process that started before I arrived and now I’m just wandering through the ravine and marveling at how much the river has worn away and how much further it has to go before the landscape is irrevocably changed. I wish I could say that after finishing my freshman year everything settled down, but that’s not how these things work. I’m not naive. When I returned home for a short break before the start of the fall semester, I already knew that when I went back to campus I’d be marked. I had a bargain with the devil and I’d traveled into the depths of the traveling river and returned. These things can’t be set aside so lightly. But at least I had a brief reprieve back in my hometown. Hah. If only. The town’s gossip network got to work spreading the news that I was home. After two days, the parents of my ex-boyfriend showed up at my house. Not Steven. The *very* ex-boyfriend. There’s been rumors spreading in my absence because this is a small town and of course there were. His disappearance was suspicious enough but then I went to college, which is not something people in this town commonly do. With no prior interest? Against the wishes of my mother? But no, it couldn’t be because I’m trying to get away from this stupid fucking town, it’s because I’m *guilty* of something. Surely I *know* what happened or - gasp - might even *be involved*. Which I guess I do know something, but what am I supposed to say? Oh your golden child wasn’t really all that great and apparently there was a lot more going on with him than even I knew about, because Krampus saw fit to make a personal appearance and strangle him to death before dragging his corpse away to some wintery hellscape. No one will believe me. Or at least, his parents will never believe me, and I have no desire to be hounded and blamed by these people every time I come home to visit my mom and my siblings. Because they’re borderline accusing me of being the reason he disappeared and all I did was try to have a future of my own and not join them in their life of misery and mourning. We weren’t even married. I’m realizing that I didn’t even like him as much as I thought I did. My life isn’t over because my boyfriend died when I was 18. Maybe the devil knew what he was doing in keeping me out of that community college that was closer to home. I need to be an inconvenient distance from this place. So they showed up on the front door when only myself and my youngest sister were home. I opened the door because I felt I should. I figured they were only there to ask how I was doing, as that would be the polite thing to do for someone that presumably was important to the deceased, right? Oh no. They showed up to start *drama*. “Did you take him with you?” his mother demanded, growing increasingly hostile as I repeated over and over that I didn’t know what happened to him. “He left his car behind. Someone had to drive him. Did you leave him somewhere?” “Didn’t the sheriff tell you everything?” I sighed wearily. This was going to go nowhere. “But where is he?! Is he at - at that *school*?” “We told him he needed to take over the business,” his dad rumbled. “That it was time he grow up and stop daydreaming.” Oh my GAWD I hate this town sometimes. “If he left,” I snapped, “that was his choice to make. And he’s not at my school. I haven’t seen him and I’m trying to move on.” Then I shut the door in their faces. Locked it for good measure. I stood there, heart pounding, listening to the muted discussion taking place on the doorstep. They finally decided to leave and talk to my mom over at the store. Let her know what a disrespectful daughter she had. Fine. My mother and I might not agree on everything but we agreed on this at least. My ex’s parents needed to mind their own damn business from here out. I at least texted her to let her know they were coming. Then I turned around to find my youngest sister staring at me from the end of the hallway. She’d watched the entire confrontation. “They suck,” I said, jabbing a thumb at the door. She nodded solemnly. “They’ve been bothering mom too,” she said. “Was he bad too?” I sucked in a breath. My youngest sister was the quietest of my siblings and she was also the most close-mouthed. I didn’t think she’d tell anyone anything. “He was,” I said. “He vanished at the campground, didn’t he?” I asked her how she knew that and she said it was just a hunch. I watched her carefully but she wasn’t meeting my gaze and I wasn’t certain if she was repeating what she’d heard somewhere or if this was her own idea. Then I told her that yes, he did vanish at the campground. And that she should stay away from there because even with an ancient being watching over it, it’s still dangerous. You can’t leave some things behind, once they’re a part of you. But it looks like I’m no longer going to be as welcome back home as I used to be. It made going back to college easier, once move-in weekend rolled around. This time my mom drove me. She was disappointed that I hadn’t transferred to the community college closer to home, but she was making her peace with it. Then, after she’d helped me carry my things into the dorm room (same one I had for the spring semester) she took a deep breath and looked me straight in the eyes. We were standing by her car, parked by the curb, ignoring the harried volunteers that were trying to get people to unload and get out of there. “You come back,” she said. “You have to keep coming back. I can’t handle losing someone else.” Like she’d lost dad. I just nodded, urgently, trying not to cry and then we hugged and she drove away. It feels surreal to be back here. I was only home for a week but move-in felt like my first day all over again where everything was new and unfamiliar. And there’s all these buildings and landmarks that I know but I’ve been seeing them mostly empty all summer and now they’re filled with people and everything has changed again. I feel incredibly lonely seeing all these people I don’t know and I’m not sure why that is. Cassie and I have picked up right where we left off. She’s talking about internships already. There’s a job fair early in the fall semester for her degree program and she’s making a list of which companies she wants to interview with, ranked by how much the internship pays. I wish I had that kind of direction. I’m still not sure if I picked the right major. In fact, I’m pretty sure I didn’t. I just had to pick something, right, so I picked the one that fell in line with the classes I found interesting in my first year. Yeah, I’m majoring in geology. I don’t even know what you do with that kind of degree yet. I’m telling myself it’s a placeholder until I get the rest of my life figured out. No pressure. I haven’t talked to Maria yet. There’s been some messages in the Rain Chaser’s discord channel but I’ve been ignoring it. I actually uninstalled the app from my phone, late one night when the sky was overcast and my chest felt tight and I couldn’t fall asleep. I want to keep going, just keep walking forward and not look back. The eye is gone. The dead students are forgotten by everyone else. I don’t want to look back, I don’t want to think about it, I don’t want to talk to Maria. This is how I feel. Realistically, I know I can’t avoid it forever. She deserves to know that the eye is gone and the students that were killed are at rest. Besides, I need her help to distribute my flyers. They’re nothing fancy. Just a sheet of paper titled “How to Survive College” and a list of the rules such as they are. I printed them off campus and have enough to leave a stack of twenty in each dorm’s computer lab. I just need people that can get into the labs and for that, I guess I need the Rain Chasers. Let’s review the rules. 1. Don’t go outside when it rains. 2. If you fall asleep in class and no one is around when you wake up, stay at your desk. Pretend you’re taking notes. Don’t look up and don’t look around, no matter what you hear. You’ll be returned to your classroom when it leaves. 3. Don't leave your laundry in the washer or dryer for too long. If you do and someone has folded it for you, put it away nicely. If you don't, the person that folded it for you will know and will come for you. 4. If you break campus rules and go into the steam tunnels, be aware of your surroundings. If you see where steam is leaking into the open air, run. Get out of the tunnels as quickly as you can. There's more than just steam down there. 5. If you get caught out in the rain… you are not seeing things. There is something out there, between the raindrops. Get inside as quickly as you can. 6. Campus does not flood. If you see water beginning to accumulate any larger than a puddle, get to high ground as fast as you can. The river is coming for you. 7. If you’re in the steam tunnels and a door doesn’t open to where you expect, close it and open it again. It should lead you to the correct location on the second try. 8. If you absolutely must venture out in the rain, go in groups. Do not be caught in the rain alone. Similarly, never swim in the gym pool alone. They hunt in packs and are looking for easy prey. They don’t have everything, but those are the rules I felt most confident putting into print. I can always put out updates. I’ll be honest - I feel silly with these. Kate always complained about how they didn’t work but she kept doing it, so it must have had *some* effect, right? And maybe it’ll be different here because people are already passing what to do with the rain around by word of mouth. I feel they take it more seriously. But yanno? Distributing these is a problem for another day. For the first week I only wanted to focus on my classes and my new job (more on that in another post). I’m taking more geology classes, obviously. I have a class about dinosaurs and that sounds interesting, right? It was even taught by a different professor than Mr. I-Believe-In-Stereotypes-But-Not-Monsters so it seemed like it was all going to turn out great. Hah. Hahahahahahhaaha. I’m not sure how you make *dinosaurs* boring but this professor is managing to accomplish it. It’s an early morning class. Starts at 8AM, which is a special kind of hell in of itself. But it gets worse. It’s in a big lecture hall with like a hundred something students and we all file in and once we’re all seated he turns the lights off. And turns on the projector. And starts *droning*. I just have so much regret right now. Like most everyone, I suspect, I’m having trouble staying awake. I’m doing my best. It’s like he’s going out of his way to make it as difficult as possible, though. Phones and laptops are banned and since the room is semi-dark, it’s easy to see who is breaking the rule. I try to take notes but I’m kind of a shit note taker to begin with and it’s not enough to keep my brain engaged. I’m just hoping this is one of those classes where you can read the textbook and be okay for the exams. ‘Let me guess,’ you’re saying. ‘You fall asleep on the regular.’ Yes! ‘And when you do, something weird happens.’ Well, it was only the once so far. But it was in the first week of the semester so that doesn’t bode well. Something ran across my foot. That was what woke me up. The professor was still droning down at the front of the lecture hall. I covertly glanced around to make sure no one had seen me startle awake, though I’m not sure they could have judged me for it, I’m sure they were all falling asleep as much as I was. Everyone around me was quiet, watching the presentation or staring blankly at their open textbook or sleeping. There was something odd about the floor, though. The shadows were off, subtle, but enough to catch my eye and I took a harder look. The ground was covered in tree roots. They grew together in thick cords, reminding me of the tangled cables in a computer server room. They ran down the stepped levels of the lecture hall, flowing steadily towards the middle, rarely branching, rarely veering. Then they pooled around the podium, swirling to a thick knot right in front of the podium, and then branched out again towards the back wall and beyond. I leaned over, pretending to look inside my backpack. This could be another situation like the thing in the hallway and I felt it best to act natural until I understood what was happening. But while I was bent over, I touched the tree roots. They felt real enough. Smooth and cold with a slight chalky texture. I stared hard at them, trying to make out details as my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness under the table, shielded from the glow of the unending presentation. They were covered in lines like cracks, dark paths running perfectly parallel to each other, sometimes crossing over to form bridges between each track. It reminded me of computer circuitry. I was strangely calm. There was a whole other world next to the college and sometimes it veered into ours, but there was always a way out. That’s what I’ve been telling myself about the traveling river and the flooding library and the thing in the hallway and everything else. There was always a way out. I just had to be patient and wait for it to pass by. The tide would recede and I’d be left here standing on the correct bank. I straightened. As I did, I glimpsed a dark shape on the underside of the desk. A lump the size of a soccer ball. I froze. It did not. It *unwound*. A long, sinuous body uncurled, hundreds of legs clinging to the underside of the particleboard. Its carapace shined as it caught the light of the projector and two antennas flitted in my direction, each as long as my forearm. Look, there’s only so much a person can take and still remain calm and collected. I apparently found my breaking point right then and there and that point is a giant ass bug monster inches from my face. I screamed. I threw myself away from it, falling out of my chair. It reacted to the noise, skittering down the table leg as fast as thought. I heard the click of its multitude of legs as it stretched out to its full length. A yard long, at least, and as thick as an apple. A millipede. A giant millipede. “NO!” I shrieked, jumping onto my chair as it came at me, mandibles clicking spasmodically. “GET AWAY FROM ME!” I stood on my chair, hyperventilating as its head reached the chair leg and its body curved upwards. I cast about desperately, trying to figure out where to flee, and then my eyes fell on my textbook. It’s very heavy. I seized it and threw it as hard as I could at the millipede. The book struck it squarely on its body and simply fell to the side. The creature, however, recoiled. It hissed and then ran from me, swerving across the ground as it traveled up and down over the roots. It reached the wall and began to flee up it. Then I made the mistake of looking up. The ceiling was covered in them. A roiling mass of chitin and flashing antenna. I next remember someone calling my name. The person that sits next to me, staring up anxiously, repeating my name over and over. Slowly, I looked around. I was still standing on my chair. Everyone was staring at me. I opened my mouth, trying to speak. Everything felt like it was happening so slowly and I didn’t know what had happened in the past few seconds. Like my brain had simply turned itself off after seeing what was on the ceiling. “Are you okay?” my neighbor asked directly. “Uh,” I said, “I saw a rat.” A ripple ran through the students. Everyone around me glanced under the table and I saw a couple of them pick their feet up off the ground and huddle on top of their chairs. Finally, one particularly brave hero got up and made a thorough search before proclaiming the area was rat-free now. I sat back down. I didn’t put my legs under the desk. I kept my feet up on the edge of the chair. I wasn't the only one doing this so I guess they believed my excuse for panicking. Throughout all this, the professor didn’t say anything. He looked at me for a long, hard moment and then continued talking about the pikaia. I sat there with my heart hammering, not really listening. The incident had made sure I was *wide awake* but I couldn’t focus on anything anymore. There was a touch at my elbow and I about jumped out of my skin. At least I didn’t scream this time. My neighbor slid me a note. He jerked his head, indicating it came from someone else further on in the row, but no one was looking in my direction to fess up to who sent it. I unfolded it. ‘I saw them too,’ it read. ‘They weren’t rats.’ No one stopped to talk to me after class, even though I took my time packing my backpack to give them an opportunity. I guess they wanted to get out of this room as fast as they could. I kind of did too. I’m not sure how I’m going to keep going back to that classroom, after what I saw. My delay gave someone else the opportunity to come talk to me, though. The professor made his way up the aisle and caught my eye. “Everything okay?” he asked. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” I said nervously. “I’m not sure what I saw anymore. I just thought something ran across my foot.” “Well, feel free to move if it makes you feel better. There’s plenty of open seats near the front.” Like hell I’d sit near the front. I didn’t need him to see me drooling into my hand when I fell asleep again. If I fell asleep again, that is. But I thanked him for his consideration and said I’d think about it. I left hurriedly, hoping the other student that witnessed the tree roots and the millipedes would be waiting for me, but the hallway was empty. I wonder if they were avoiding the professor eavesdropping. I wonder if the professor knew it wasn’t a rat. If he’s going to be watching me now. Or maybe I’m letting my paranoia get ahead of me. Or maybe it doesn’t matter. I have to be careful. I killed the eye and I have to assume that there is now a target on my back.[\[x\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/goatvalleycampgrounds/) [Read the first draft of the rules.](https://www.reddit.com/r/goatvalleycampgrounds/comments/t34mbv/how_to_survive_college/) [Visit the college's website.](https://alderrayne.com/)

We Invented the World's Best Weight Loss System. It Only Has One Flaw...

yerdix

nosleep

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/yerdix/we_invented_the_worlds_best_weight_loss_system_it/

The lab where I work is not a regular sort of lab. We wear protective equipment and do decontamination protocols to ensure that anything on the inside stays there, and doesn’t escape. Proteon’s Level Eight Consumer Medical Products Division is what it’s officially called. But for those of us who work here, we just know it as “THE PIT.” We are on the furthest floor down from the main level - far away from the gleaming offices of the thirty-ninth floor - where suited executives discuss business portfolios while sipping lattes and smoking cigars. Despite its name, THE PIT is well-lit, at least. The bright fluorescent glow of the lamps overhead cast everything in a stark, shockingly electric white. You almost have to shield your eyes from all the reflective polished steel surfaces belonging to high-tech equipment. Everything from stirrers, hot plates, precision balances, incubators, microscopes and pH meters - all top of the line. I’m not supposed to talk about what we’re working on down there, in THE PIT. But I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not to me, anyways. We did experiments down there. Things I deeply regret. Our assignment was to create a biological solution to assist people with weight loss. The idea was to design a genetically modified tapeworm that would help people reach their desired weight, then could be drawn out with a biologically implanted trigger. It sounds disgusting, I know. But you’d be amazed what people will do to lose weight. I was shocked to see a human volunteer amble into the laboratory one day. He’d been forced to sign several NDAs and was told not to say a word about THE PIT to anyone. The man was over three hundred pounds, and he was eager to try the new treatment we were offering. Even when we told him what it was, he didn’t flinch. He just agreed enthusiastically, asking how the worm would be implanted. After the procedure was finished, the man stood up from the steel examination table looking excited. He said it was the first day of the rest of his life, and he couldn’t wait to see the results from the treatment. It took all of my effort not to throw up, just thinking about that worm squirming around in his belly, sniffing for food. Since I was assigned as lead for the project, the man was given my work cell phone to call in case of emergencies or issues with the worm. We didn’t anticipate anything unusual - we had simply modified the worm’s genes to exit the body when we told it to. But still, this was experimental, and I was a little worried about testing it for the first time on a human. I had been working at Proteon for long enough to know better than to ask questions, though. The last whistleblower at the company had met an untimely demise. Weeks went by and the subject reported weight loss in excess of fifteen pounds. He was thrilled by the results. Only a few more days remained in the trial, and a few of us in the lab were joking around, saying how it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to lose a few inches ourselves. Working in a lab doesn’t afford a lot of opportunity for exercise, after all, and it’s hard to stay in shape. I wasn’t the first one to swallow one of the worms. Kevin did it, and then Lisa, and then Rebecca. I felt an odd sense of peer pressure to join them. “C’mon, Jake,” Rebecca said, prodding me with her elbow. “Imagine what it would be like to look fifty pounds lighter…” She said this while looking at me flirtatiously. We were both on the bigger side, and I thought about the two of us looking fit and skinny, having sex in the back of her Jeep Cherokee. She would definitely let me have sex with her if I was skinny, I thought. With that idea in my mind, I held up the worm with my forefingers and dropped it down my gullet, like a kid during recess trying to impress the cool kids. Except we had all done it. We had all ingested the creatures designed by untested science. And we were all about to pay the price. * For a little while things were good. I started to lose weight, slowly at first, then a little more every day. Despite eating ravenously at times, the fat continued to burn away, disappearing effortlessly. I wasn’t exercising or doing anything different from my usual routine. If anything I was eating more - feeling like no matter how much I shoved down my gullet I was always hungry. Despite feeling tired and hungry all the time, I was encouraged by the weight loss. Just like our subject, I found myself stepping on the scale and seeing I had shed fifteen pounds in a matter of weeks. As I stepped off the scale, though, I felt something stirring inside of me. The worm, I assumed. But it felt larger now, like a python uncoiling itself and yawning as it awoke for the day, hungry for a meal. That made me feel unsettled, but I tried to ignore it and went about my day, going to work as usual. I attempted to reach the subject of our experiment, but he didn’t pick up the phone. It was the second day in a row he hadn’t answered. “He’s probably busy with a hot date,” Rebecca said. She was looking good. The missing weight around her face was already noticeable, and despite her colour appearing slightly grey, I thought her ass was getting a nice sort of peachy shape to it. “How about the two of us go on a hot date?” I asked her, feeling impulsive and more confident than I had in years. “Le Château, tonight at eight?” Her cheeks coloured with a rosy blush. “Hell yeah,” she said, smiling and showing her tiny teeth and tall gums. Her glasses fogged up as we kissed behind the centrifuge, and I told her I’d pick her up at seven. That night I went to her apartment to pick her up, and knocked on her door. She opened up, appearing a little green. “Come on in,” she said, gulping. “I just need a minute. I’m not feeling well all of a sudden.” I went in and sat down, feeling not so great myself. It was just hitting me at that moment, a sensation like I was spinning while standing on top of a very tall building. Sitting down hard on the couch, she plopped down beside me. She set her hand down on my leg and I noticed dully that something was moving around underneath her skin, burrowing like Bugs Bunny. It didn’t even register to me that I wasn’t as surprised as I should have been, when I saw the same thing was happening to my own arm. I felt my face and noticed it was moving as well, deforming and bulging with the movements of parasites underneath. Not one worm, but many of them. And they weren’t just in my stomach anymore, now they were everywhere. “Your face,” Rebecca sputtered, her eyes glazed over and moist with tears. “Your face is moving…” Whatever these things were, they were multiplying. And they were making us brain dead as they chewed on our greymatter. “Call 9-1-1,” I said to Rebecca, feeling more afraid than I’d ever felt in my life, as I saw something begin to tear a hole in her cheek. The face of a worm peeked out as it gnawed and clawed to free itself. All I could feel were the teeth of a thousand parasites, growing larger by the second as they fed upon my flesh. And their mother in my belly, a six foot snake uncurling and shifting with displeasure. Getting ready to start gnawing at the bars of its flesh-cage. To escape to greener [pastures.](https://www.reddit.com/r/JGcreepypastas/comments/raq7ay/all_stories_20212022/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share) [MAD](https://www.reddit.com/r/MidnightAllDay?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share) [TCC](https://www.reddit.com/r/TheCrypticCompendium?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share) [YT](https://youtu.be/9RybtYtDzAk)

I couldn’t believe what my boss asked me to do on my first day

ydxtjp

nosleep

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/ydxtjp/i_couldnt_believe_what_my_boss_asked_me_to_do_on/

“There’s *nothing* to ‘get’!” my manager Jonah swept his palm against the mahogany reception desk, “It’s right, right, right, right, *left!*” I watched him go through the motions for what seemed like the twentieth time. It wasn’t my fault. This wasn’t something I got asked to do every day. In fact, I’d never expected to get asked to do this, *period.* Especially not on my first day on the job. “Okay, okay,” I said, taking in a lungful of air and extending my arms to either side, “Right, right, right, right, *left.* Got it.” His forehead cleared, “*See?* Easy peasy! You’ll be running this place by the end of the week!” The end of the week seemed lightyears away. The newspaper ad had promised a “stress-free” receptionist experience in a small health clinic, but it was only 9 AM and I was already on edge. Jonah looked to be in his late forties and evidently took pride in his no-nonsense attitude. He was already tapping his foot by the time I’d arrived, *even though I was five minutes early*, and wasted no time on introductions. “I have a meeting in ten,” he snapped, pointing me to my seat, “That’s your desk, your login info is on the post-it note. Anything else you might need just ask Sally, she’ll be taking over for the night shift.” “The night sh-?” I tried to interject, but he cut me off. “Let me walk you through the basics,” he paused for effect, “As you know, we pride ourselves on our free healthcare, which distinguishes us from the competition and keeps our hands full day and night. Your role may be simple, but it’s a vital one.” “Okay?” I shifted on my swivel chair as he positioned himself directly in front of the reception desk. “Now,” he cleared his throat, “Pay attention. You’ll need to master this before the next surge.” “Sur..?” I began, but he wasn’t listening. “So, the first thing you do when a patient comes in is check their ID. Free healthcare or not, we need to keep a record of whoever comes through the door. You know the drill.” He rapped the countertop in a keyboard-like motion to demonstrate. I smiled politely. “*Now*, the important part,” he said, extending his arms to the sides, “As you can see, there is a door on each side of the room. For your convenience, they are labeled R and L, which stand for right and left.” He paused, as if to make sure I was still following. “The task is simple. You are to send every *fifth* patient through the left door. You’ll need to keep track of them, okay? One, two, three, four people go *right*, and the fifth one goes *left.*” “But…why?” I heard myself asking. In all my years working as a hospital receptionist I’d never heard a request like this, “What’s behind the left door?” Jonah scoffed, as if he’d been expecting the question, “Inpatient rooms. Don’t worry about it. All you need to do is count the patients and point to the correct door. *Got it?*” “So…” I began, my mouth dry, “But what kind of… How will I know if the patients qualify for the left door? You know, like, if a pregnant woman comes in and the maternity rooms are on the right…” “Easy,” he snapped, his brow furrowed, “If she’s patient number five, you send her to the left. I don’t care about the circumstances.” I swallowed. “Well…er…can I have a tour of the premises, or..?” Jonah’s head jerked, “You don’t need to worry about the ins and outs of it. You’re a *receptionist.* We’re paying you good money to do *this* job. Take it or leave it.” I took it. I couldn’t even believe I had been lucky enough to get it in the first place. Hospital work had been too taxing and making double while doing a far easier job sounded almost too good to be true. By the time Jonah had disappeared through the door labeled “R”, the reception area was already flooded with patients. “I’ve been vomiting since 2 AM,” a man in a blue tracksuit stated, tossing an ID card into my hands, “I need some pills or something.” He dry-heaved, clutching his throat dramatically while I took down his information. “Go through the right door,” I said with a smile. I leaned forward in my seat, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever was behind it, but as the man in the tracksuit pulled it open, I was disappointed to discover it was no more than a long white corridor. I only saw that same corridor the following three times too. There was no sign of the people I’d just sent in, nor were there any benches or a waiting area for patients to sit. “Good morning,” an elderly man placed his passport onto the countertop, “I've got an ear infection. Started last week. Tried warm compresses and pain medication, but it’s staying put. Is there a doctor I could see for a prescription?” I stared at him, gnawing at my lip. He was the fifth patient. “Is everything okay..?” he cocked his head to the side, his eyes blue and watery. “Er…” I cleared my throat, hurriedly punching in his surname, “It’s the left door, please, sir.” With bated breath, I watched as he struggled towards it, eventually managing to pry it open. *It was exactly the same.* A white, sterile-looking corridor, no different from the one on the right. No people. No benches. Only bright, fluorescent lights. Still, I couldn’t help myself from feeling slightly nauseated as the door slammed shut behind him, my heart somersaulting in my chest. “Next, please,” I croaked, trying my best to distract myself. What was this system for? Why were they singling out these unsuspecting people and more importantly… A documentary I’d seen a month prior flashed before my eyes. Cruel medical experiments involving… *No.* I couldn’t allow myself to think about that. I just needed to get through the day and then I’d see. Research this place, ask around. Why on Earth hadn’t I thought to do that the night before? Hell, why hadn’t I done that before applying for the job? Only now it dawned on me how quickly they had hired me. Had they even checked my qualifications? Did Jonah even know my name? *God…* I wanted to bury my face in my hands, but the next patient was already staring me down, a baby in her arms. “We need a pediatrician,” she wailed, “My son hasn’t slept in three days and I’m exhausted.” The baby looked hot and uncomfortable, writhing in her arms while I took down their names. “It’s the door on the right,” I pointed to it, suddenly realizing that I hadn’t considered this scenario. Did that count as two people…or one patient…? And how exactly could I split a child from their parent...? I’d need to ask Jonah whenever I saw him next. Except I didn’t see Jonah. I didn’t even see my lunch, or a bathroom break. It occurred to me, *a little too late*, that I hadn’t thought to ask where anything is. Jonah had explained the premise of the job and disappeared, never to be seen again. I would have considered trying one of the doors, but the queue was unrelenting and I constantly found myself swarmed by people. By the afternoon, I had sent about one hundred patients through the right door and twenty patients through the left. I recalled each one of them with perfect clarity. Thomas, the elderly gentleman, Beatrice, the teen girl with the nose ring, Lou, the woman in the tartan dress, Gabriel, the… “*Excuse me?*” a small voice rang out, “Can you help me?” At first, I didn’t realize where the voice was coming from, much less that it was addressing me. My head was reeling from the bright lights and my own unrelenting thoughts. “Ma’am?” the voice piped up again, and this time a skinny arm appeared from behind the counter. It was a boy. No older than seven. With brown disheveled hair falling over his forehead and a sling on his left arm. “I’m here for my x-ray?” he said, holding his arm out for me to see, “Could you show me where to go?” I looked down at the tally I’d been keeping on my post-it. *One hundred and four.* My blood ran cold. It was there and then that I knew I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do this job. How was I meant to send a child - or *any* person for that matter - through a mystery door? It felt like a betrayal. A sacrifice. No, I - “Could you show me where to go?” the boy repeated, disrupting my inner monologue, “My mother is waiting for me in the car.” “It’s…it’s…” I garbled, trying to compose myself. Thoughts of brutal experiments flooded my mind again. My skin was prickling all over. I needed to do the right thing. I needed to… “It’s the right door…” I whispered. My heart was pounding in my chest and I could feel a bead of sweat making its way down the small of my back. It didn’t matter if I got into trouble. I couldn’t risk it. “Okay,” the boy shrugged, making his way towards it. Fighting the golf ball sized lump in my throat, I rushed in front of him to open it, “Thank you.” I felt better after that. *Well, relatively.* You see, I started cheating. There were no surveillance cameras in the reception area so I allowed myself to work at twice the speed, but send twice as few people through the left door. *No one will notice*, I told myself over and over, clacking furiously at my keyboard. And this way I got to actually pick the people manually. There was the lady who grumbled about the waiting times, and then the man who thought it was appropriate to smoke inside… “Who are *you?*” a voice intercepted my thoughts. A woman had circled the counter and was standing beside me, casually shifting papers on my desk. “Hey!” I began, grabbing at them. “Where’s Penelope?” her gaze was piercing. “P-Penelope?” I stammered, “I don’t… Who’s Penelope?” “Oh, God,” the woman slumped down, burying her face in her hands, “Not another one!” I stared at her, wondering if this was her way of telling me she needed the psych ward. “Ma’am, if you’d like to see a doctor, I’ll need your ID, please,” I said, watching her shoulders bob up and down in a silent cry. She shot me an incredulous look, “I’m Sally. Here for the night shift. Penelope was the one… the one before you. I *told* her not to go snooping. I *told* her to just do her job. She wouldn’t listen…” I felt a chill crawling up my spine, “Wh-what happened..?” But Sally shook her head, “I don’t know. I mean, I certainly have my theories. It’s not the first time this has happened. There was Shirley and Jacob, and now Penelope, *oh*, it’s the right door, sir!” Out of the corner of my eye I saw a man spin on his heel and head toward the right-hand side of the room. “Please,” my mouth was as dry as a cotton ball, “I need to know.” Sally slapped the countertop, “Okay, we’re on break, people! Fifteen minutes!” “Tell me what’s going on,” I said, as soon as she turned away from the reception desk, “What’s behind the left door?” “Behind the *left* door? Hell if I know! I haven’t been there and wouldn’t go if they paid me. Ignorance really is bliss, never forget that.” “But you must know *something?* How long have you been working here?” She chuckled, “You know how curiosity killed the cat? Well, that expression really applies here. Once the other receptionists made up their minds to wander down one of the corridors, I never saw them again. Came in to a brand new person the next day.” “Did…did they get fired..?” “Fired?” her eyes widened, “Honey, I *hope* they got fired. All I know is that they never showed up again. Wouldn’t pick up their phones either. *Gone!* Just like that.” I shook my head, “Tell me what’s behind the left door. You must know!” She studied me for a moment with narrowed eyes, “It’s…it’s not the left door you should be worried about.” My heart skipped a beat. “It’s not? Then… then…” “The lucky ones get the left door,” Sally said, her voice hoarse. “I… I don’t understand…” I whispered, my breath catching in my throat. “The left-door people,” she said, grabbing hold of my clammy hands, “I’ve seen them again. They’re registered in the system twice. Some even three times if they’re exceedingly lucky. They make further appointments. They leave us good reviews.” I swallowed, “...but not the right-door people..?” She pointed her painted fingernail towards the window, “You see that truck over there? The one the men are loading up? All that comes from the right wing.” “But that’s…that’s…” “One of the biggest fast food chains in the city? I know.” I gaped at her, my stomach churning, “The right door…” She nodded sorrowfully, “Nothing’s free, sweetheart. The company’s gotta make their money somehow, and…” But before she could finish her sentence, Jonah stuck his head out the door, a paper bag in his hand, “Hey, ladies, fancy having some lunch?” I stared at him, and then at Sally, silently shaking her [head.](https://www.reddit.com/r/TerrorTherapy/)

My ex is using my daughter to manipulate me

yeig29

nosleep

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/yeig29/my_ex_is_using_my_daughter_to_manipulate_me/

My ex has my daughter. She’s been there for a while. Beyond what our custody agreement allows. My ex has been using her to manipulate me. To control what I’m doing, where I go, and even who I talk to. I’m heart broken. I miss her so much. Her laugh, her smile. I last saw her when she was 14 months old. At night I find myself staring at my empty living room, imagining her toddling across the floor with her chocolate covered face and toothy grin. Sometimes I catch myself listening at her bedroom, waiting for a cry to signal to me that she’s awake. Only to have my heart drop when I remember her barren crib. I can’t even bring myself to clean up her room. There are toys and books strewn everywhere, clothes pulled from the few dresser drawers she could reach. Even when I’m grocery shopping I find myself going down the baby aisles, subconsciously grabbing for snacks and diapers she won’t need. The other day I found one of her tiny hair ties in my pocket and cried for hours. The police won’t help, CPS can’t step in. Even though it’s heartbreaking, I can’t get her back. Even though I never planned on being a parent, I never imagined the hole not having her would leave in my heart. I got a box today, from my ex. It was filled with photos, the outfit she was wearing when I last saw her, even a lock of her hair and a baby tooth. When I opened it I could feel myself screaming in pain, even though the world around me deafened. Tonight I plan on getting her back. With or without police help. I plan on waiting until everyone is asleep. Once the lights are off, I can sneak in the back door. The dogs still recognize me so I don’t think they will sound the alarm. Even if they tried, their silence was always easily bought with treats. I still know the layout of the house like the back of my hand. Even after we started the divorce and I moved, my ex never cared for change. The furniture is all where I remember it, at least as far as I can tell from the pictures. Once I get in the back door my daughter's bedroom is around the corner and to the left. The nightlights should still be there, making it easy to find my way in the dark. She never could sleep in the dark. My ex is the wild card. Fiercely protective, and hypersentive. We live in a state with very loose gun laws, so every room in the house is like a small armory. If I get caught, I won’t make it back. But I am willing to take that risk to save my daughter. I won’t have to worry about her crying, she’s never been loud. I just hope I can grab all of her. After the car accident six months ago, she’s not the same as she was. I think that’s the worst part of the photos my ex sent me, is seeing her decaying limbs propped up next to her. I’m debating on bringing the blanket she came home from the hospital wrapped in when she was born. The lock of hair I received still had part of her scalp attached, so I know she’s well into decomposition. I’m done crying at an empty grave. Tonight I’ll finally be able to put her to bed, and I even got a battery powered night light. We live in a small town and when I told the police that her grave was disturbed they ignored me, said I was crazy with grief. Even if I get caught putting her back, at least I will know she’s finally resting. Tonight is the last time my ex will have to torment me. I’m posting this just in case anything goes wrong. The box my ex sent me is on my kitchen counter, along with a detailed binder of everything that’s happened. I’m going to the store to get a shovel, and some daisies. They were always her favorite. I hope I can update this, but if I can't, hopefully they find me. I have a plot next to her. I bought it the week of her funeral. Even if I don’t make it, at least we will get one last nap together.

I should be dead.

yeqede

nosleep

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/yeqede/i_should_be_dead/

I should be dead. ​ I felt it. I felt my neck snap. I felt the bones splinter. They pushed me, I fell. My neck hit something on the ground, I couldn’t feel my body. But then I felt… something snaking down and up my spine, pulling my body back together. I can only describe it as vines under my skin, something keeping me tightly taught. Without thinking I get back up, and hold out my arms, covering my face. Too late, the man pulls back his fist and hits me again. His armoured glove impacts my face, and I taste blood. But then, I don’t. My head snaps back. Again, those vines under my skin pull me back together. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m on top of the man. I’m punching him, my fists getting bloodied as they impact him again and again. His helmet falls off, and my hands punch his face. I feel bones in my fingers snap from my brute force, but those vines again pull them back together. Someone yells. An alarm goes off. Down the seemingly infinite white halls, men show up, dressed in black. Armed to the teeth, they see me. Through their semi-transparent helmet visors I see fear in their eyes. They’re screaming. I’m screaming. Rifles drawn, they start shooting. The muzzles flashes from their guns remind me of a beautiful flame. ———————— “What a beautiful, erm flame,” I say. I’m at the beach. I’m with… I’m with him. I I can’t remember his name for some reason. I feel something for him. I can’t remember what it’s called… love? He laughs, and tosses more dried driftwood into the bonfire, sending sparks into the summer breeze. The waves crash on the shore, and he looks at me, “Keep up with this flirting and I might end up falling for you.” He does something with his mouth…. A smile I believe it’s called. I smile back. I can’t keep it off my face. I move my head shyly away from him. My heart pounds. I'm... happy.He moves to sit next to me. Closer than he has to. I don’t mind though. Even though I am sat next to a bonfire, I remember feeling as if his heat was twenty times stronger than the flame’s. I awkwardly move closer to him. “You know,” he says, “there’s really no reason for you to be nervous. You know me.” I feel blood rushing to my face. “I- Erm. You-“ I stutter. I've been staring at his eyes for too long. I flash an embarrassed smile. He moves his hand to mine, and turns to face me. “Is this okay?” He asks. I smile and nod. ———————— I smile as the bullets tear through me. I feel the vines moving through my body. The pain feels… good. I run through the ranks of men, the flames all around me. They try to stick things inside me, but I’m too fast. The vines seem to snake out of my body, helping me take them down. Their blood on my hands excites me. As suddenly as it started, it’s all over, and I’m left in torn rags. Once a pristine white, now a blood-stained red. I feel myself start to drift away, but I have to stay up. I can’t fall. I reach out to steady myself, but it all goes black.Before I pass out, one thought stands out in my mind: I should be dead.

My Name is Stacy White, I'm an Investigative Journalist and I Interview Monsters. Update.

ye0nc4

nosleep

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/ye0nc4/my_name_is_stacy_white_im_an_investigative/

[PREVIOUS](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/ycasl3/my_name_is_stacy_white_im_an_investigative/) When I next met with Molly it was with extreme reluctance. Apparently my article had resonated well with the audiences and they were morbidly curious for more. As such my boss had sent me back. She sat just as arrow straight and emotionless as last time.  “Good Morning.” She greeted me pleasantly, almost as if we were friends.  “Yes..” I answered minimally as I set up my equipment.  “Did it negatively affect your morality last time? To hear of my masters and their world?” She asked curiously.  “It.. Surprised me..” I answered diplomatically.  “I understand. What is it that you would like to know about this time?” “How did the child, Eric, destroy your supply chain?” I asked straightforwardly.  Molly took a deep breath in, as if it was some effort for her to continue this time, then she began, “The boy was permitted to join in the day classes with the girls after he beat Radomir, however this brought with it new problems. Aside from the disciplinary issues, it quickly became apparent that Eric was not the same level as the others. Out of ten he ranked 7th. When the three girls below him defaulted to the meat farm, he became the bottom of the class.  On the day of their 22nd exam, I was working with Nathaniel on another matter when he was called to the infirmary. When we arrived Eric was lying on his side curled up on one of the sterile hospital beds in a medical robe. Beside him Doctor Markos Behrend was writing on a chart. He was one of them, just the same as Nathaniel or Master, however was a couple years older than the brothers. He had strawberry blonde hair and lavender eyes.  ‘Nathaniel.’ The Doctor greeted him with a humble bow despite the fact that they had been friends for many decades, ‘I thought you would want to be the one to make the decision on this case?’  ‘Indeed, what is the damage?’ Nathaniel asked calmly, though looking at him I could tell he was tense. He stood just a little more rigid in the same way Master did when he was stressed.  ‘It seems the boy failed the 22nd test. He fell from near the top, when I heard I had expected that he would need to be scraped off the ground, however it seems he survived, though his injuries are considerable.’ Markos began cheerfully, ‘Internal bleeding, multiple broken ribs, broken wrist and fractured leg. It would be my recommendation that he should be euthanized.’ Hearing this Nathaniel ignored the man, moving instead to crouch beside the bed, ‘Eric, look at me.’ He spoke with a softness that was nauseating and the child rolled over to face him, he was pale with pain. His injuries were plain to see, no bandages or otherwise had been placed. ‘Can you tell me what happened?’ He prompted  ‘I fell..’ Eric whispered ashamedly, ‘I couldn’t keep up.. they all moved too fast..’  ‘Was it because of your leg?’  ‘..Yes.. I’m sorry.. I’ll do better..’ It was strange to hear a child apologize for it implied that forgiveness could be given. ‘Are you in pain?’  The boy nodded. ‘Good. Then next time, I expect you won’t fall.’ He said calmly before returning his attention to Markos, ‘There’s no need for euthanasia, his spirit isn’t broken.’ ‘As you wish.’ The doctor agreed, ‘With respect, I should inform you I am forbidden from using any medicines on him specifically. He will receive no pain relief or other treatment and I have doubts that he will last long without it.’  ‘Orders from my brother is it?’ He sighed and Markos nodded in confirmation, ‘I see, no matter. Eric, will you sit up for me?’ He requested.  It took a moment but the child obliged, sitting up with some effort to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. This was the first time I had seen his left leg without the bracing and it was disturbing. Sickly thin with sunken muscles and more twisted than it should have been. It was also heavily bruised, I assumed it was the one that had broken.  ‘I’m going to give you a gift. Do you think you can withstand a little more pain for a moment?’ Nathaniel asked curiously.  ‘I’m fine.” Eric responded stubbornly. I don’t believe he understood exactly how much gifts hurt when bestowed. The man looked bemused, ‘Very well. Hold your gown out of the way.’ He instructed and Eric hesitantly rolled it up to his hip on one side, exposing the full length of his damaged leg. Nathaniel seemed to examine the disfigurement for a moment before activating his magic. Ordinarily their energy is not something we can see, however, when it is particularly concentrated it becomes visible. As such, his eyes glowed and blue sparks crackled in the air around Nathaniel’s hand as he placed it over the wasted muscle, moving it downward from there past his knee to his ankle.  There was a moment of awed silence before the child screamed and began to writhe in agony. He was clearly not prepared. His skin boiled, blistering from within as the magic burned through his leg and blackened symbols seared themselves down the length of it where Nathaniel had touched. I had never before seen one of them use their magic in this way. The marks left were a combination of interconnected circles, crescents and what I can only describe as stars arranged in a neat line.   When they were done forming, the bruising around the break faded and the muscle began to fill out. Even the bruising on his wrist disappeared and I realized then that Nathaniel had healed him entirely, ‘Your brother wouldn’t approve of that,’ Markos warned, though the mischievous gleam in his eye signified that he did. He had always preferred Nathaniel to Master.  ‘Perhaps not.’ Nathaniel agreed, though turned his attention back to the child as he began to recover from the shock and sit up, his brow slick with sweat, ‘Why don’t you try standing?’  Eric looked suspicious but optimistic, following the instruction without saying anything more. His first steps were tentative, as if he didn’t fully trust it.  ‘Well?’ The man prompted.  ‘I.. can walk.’ Eric stumbled, barely containing his excitement, ‘Thank you!’ He said with such an intense appreciation that it made both monsters visibly uncomfortable as they looked between each other.  ‘Don’t thank me. There are limitations-’ Nathaniel started mildly embarrassed but stopped mid sentence when Eric suddenly hugged him.  ‘I don’t care. Thank you.’ The boy repeated.  At this situation Markos appeared to be distinctly amused while Nathaniel remained frozen, looking utterly shocked. He seemed to have no concept of how to return the gesture, ‘Yes. Right. Well… *Release me.*’ He used a command and Eric obediently stepped back, ‘As I was saying, child, there are limitations. You may not use it all the time, the more you use it the faster you will burn through the magic sustaining it. If it runs out you will revert back to how you were until it recharges enough to continue.’ He explained.  ‘How long does it take to recharge..?’ Eric asked now.  ‘Depends on how depleted you allow it to get.’ Nathaniel shrugged, ‘I would suggest exploring the limitations before taking the 22nd test again. If you fail a second time, there won’t be a third.’  Bestowing that gift was perhaps the second biggest mistake Nathaniel ever made. The boy learned to use his gift only when required and it seemed to me that for the majority of the time he used it minimally. Only enough so that he could walk with the assistance of a cane rather than the leg braces and under  Nathaniel’s continued guidance he was becoming regrettably formidable.  By the time he was a teenager he was outrightly dangerous. He excelled in his classes with the girls and was soon ranked third among them, the only two who opposed him were Calla and Loree. However as he approached maturity a new problem arose. ’It is time now brother, you *must* destroy him. I have allowed you to indulge whatever interest it is that has consumed you these past years, but that is to end. He is causing problems among the girls.’ Master pleaded with his brother to see reason. Nathaniel sighed, ‘He is not interested in the girls, and his benefits far outweigh the risks.’  ‘How do you know he holds no interest in the girls? Humans are extremely hormonal.’  ‘Because I just *know* brother, trust me. His interests lay elsewhere.’ Nathaniel insisted, exasperated.  ‘And what of the effect he has on them?’ Master demanded.  ‘What of it? I will not punish the boy for things he cannot control!’  ‘You are blinded by your affections for him.’ My master scoffed.  ‘And you are blinded by your own ignorance. He has never disobeyed any request I have made of him, I don’t even need to use glamours. He has brought us back hundreds of children, he understands how to talk to them. He makes them feel safe. Do you not remember just last week, he brought home an entire bus of them! Tabloids are publishing it as a mysterious disappearance, they have no leads. He left no traces at all! He is far better at it than any other has ever been, I told you it would work.’ His brother responded.  ‘I am not denying that he has served his purpose, I’m saying he is getting too old! What will you do when he asks where the children he brings home are? When he asks how they are doing and why he never sees them?!’  ‘I will tell him the same thing I have *always* told him, that once he has rescued them they are taken to Sweden and re-homed.’   ‘How long do you expect him to believe that? He’s too clever Nathaniel! You should see the way he watches me, blue eyes of a devil.’ Master muttered. At this Nathaniel laughed, ‘He watches you with conjecture because he can sense your loathing. If you would spend some time with him you would see his company is quite pleasant.’   ‘I will never understand your fascination with him.’ Master shook his head.  ‘That’s because you lack vision, you never look toward the future. When mother and father arrive I intend to show them Eric and how well he has been trained. You should hope that they don’t change their minds on the succession.’ Nathaniel mused, he had never previously expressed an interest in the inheritance, so I was sure that he was only teasing. Though Master didn’t seem impressed.  ‘If you will not control him, I will.’ He warned but Nathaniel dismissed him.  ‘He is perfectly under control.’ His brother stated nonchalantly. That was one of the many arguments the brothers would have over Eric Linnaeus, yet each time Nathaniel remained unyielding. I passed by Eric that day in the hallways. He was now full grown and taller than I and I could see why his presence disrupted the other pets. He was young and handsome, his dark hair framed his face and his eyes were a deep blue. Though he wore no expression he didn’t seem unkind, you see being fed on monster’s foods enhances features you already have. Eyes, lips, hair, your skin no longer scars when cut and so on. ‘Molly, have you seen Nathaniel?’ He asked, his voice was like velvet, it was disturbing.  ‘He is in a meeting with Master.’ I informed him and it was only then that I noticed he had children with him. Two little girls no older than six or seven stood nervously hiding shyly behind his legs. They were thin and covered in dirt, they looked like they may have been living on the streets. When I looked at them they shrank back, as I said, children are unsettled by me.  ‘It’s okay, she won’t hurt you, this is Molly.’ He assured them softly.  ‘How much longer until we’re there..?’ The taller of the children asked.  ‘Not much longer, I have to take you to Nathaniel, we can get you something to eat and he will help you I promise.’  It’s not often that I feel as though I could laugh, but hearing Eric speak with such unawareness to the truth was entertaining. It pleased me to know that the masters *both* trusted me more than they did him. Even for all Nathaniel’s fawning, he didn’t trust Eric to accept him the way *I* accepted them.” Molly paused there, and I saw for the first time a smile on her lips.  “Your ‘masters’ are evil.” I commented flatly.  “Evil?” She mused, “Are lions ‘evil’ for eating buffalo? Are humans ‘evil’ for eating cattle? It’s simply a part of life. All things must eat.” She corrected me.  “Not all things eat babies.” I stated bluntly, though she ignored me this time as she continued instead.  “Sometime after my Master sent me to collect Eric from the day classes. When I arrived the teenagers were in the middle of sparring, Eric was facing Calla and she had disarmed him, she held the tip of her sword to the artery in his thigh without applying any pressure.  ‘You have lost.’ She announced though he seemed annoyed by this statement.  ‘Do you always have to aim for my leg?’ He demanded.  ‘Of course. It’s your weakness, learn to defend it better.’ She said simply, finally lowering her weapon.  Eric paused a moment then and I thought he might try to catch her in a surprise attack, however he instead asked, ‘..You’re better than I am.. So.. How would you defend better if you were me?’  This did indeed catch the girl by surprise and her cheeks flushed, ‘I would just.. Not make it so obvious. I’ve seen you use it sometimes, why don’t you just use it all the time?’ She asked as she offered him her hand to help him up.  ‘I can’t.’ He sighed, accepting her assistance and reaching for his cane as he stood, ‘I’ll wear it out too quickly for no good reason. It’s not worth using in training..’ He trailed off as he saw me approach.  ‘Eric, please come with me, Master wishes to have an audience with you.’ I announced.  In response he narrowed his eyes, ‘Why? Does Nathaniel know?’  ‘It was Nathaniel’s idea.’ I lied without hesitation. ‘Fine.’ He agreed.  We walked in silence and he followed me through the hallways to Master’s office. He was waiting for us and I stood to the side of the room while he gestured for Eric to sit, he didn’t.  ‘Hello Orphan.’ He began.  ‘What is it that you want …. ?’ Eric spoke my master’s name without any reservations, it was a sign of disrespect.  ‘I see my brother failed to teach you manners.’ Master smiled tightly, ‘I requested you here in hopes that you might agree to a contract with me.’ The boy seemed caught off guard, ‘There’s nothing you could offer me that I want.’ He stated.  ‘Oh? Come now, everyone has something that they want. I will grant you anything, name a price, and in return I should like you to become my property. I would have you contracted so that you may only obey my command, my brother nor anyone else would have the power to glamour you.’  ’Nathaniel doesn’t need to use those on me and I refuse to allow others to do so.’ Eric was overconfident.  ‘*Sit*.’ Master commanded him and he sat back heavily in his seat as the order compelled him, ‘*Stand*.’  ‘Stop it.’ He snapped as he unwillingly followed the instructions.  ‘Why? I thought you said you could resist?’ My master mused.  ‘You’re using more force than others do.’ He muttered.  ‘Well of course, I know you are strong willed. And others will figure that out as well. Do you really want to be at the mercy of whatever anyone asks you to do?’  ‘..No..’ he admitted honestly. ‘Then make the contract.’  ‘With you? Also no.’ Eric stated defiantly.  Master looked annoyed this time, it wasn’t often that people denied him what he wanted, ‘Let me put this another way. Make the contract with me, or I’ll return you to Nathaniel in pieces.’  ‘This conversation is over.’ Eric announced, moving to leave. Master allowed him to reach the door before giving another command.  ’*Stop*.’ He said simply and the boy froze in place, ‘That knife on your belt is nice. Did Nathaniel give it to you? *Answer me*.”  ‘Yes.’ He responded bitterly through teeth.  ‘Wonderful! Should I command you to take your own eye out with it?’ Master asked casually.  Now Eric appeared nervous, ‘I would rather you did not.’  ‘I’m sure my brother would rather I didn’t as well.’ He deliberated a moment, then shrugged, ‘But, he’s not here and I would love to know just how strong you are when it Really matters. So, Eric. *I order you to take your eye out. Just the eye though. Don’t want you damaging anything else*.’  Eric’s expression flickered between shock and spite before settling on concentration as he fought to resist the command. It was foolish to even try. His entire body trembled with the effort yet he still took the knife and directed the tip of the blade at his right eye, ‘Retract the command.’ He hissed, sweat beading on his brow as he used all his will power to hold the knife back.  Master sat forward slightly, ‘Interesting.’ He mused, I’m sure he hadn’t expected any resistance at all.  ‘Master forgive me.. Is this wise?’ I asked quietly. It’s not that I minded that he would injure himself, it was more that I understood Nathaniel would be less than pleased. ‘Wise? No, but, I think it’s going to be worth it anyway.’ He smiled as Eric began to scream, the blade slowly driving it’s way into his eye against his will. Blood spilled out down his face, the whole ordeal took longer than I would have expected, I suppose Eric fought it the entire time. When it was done my master sat back.  ‘I suppose not strong enough to resist then,’ he sounded amused, ‘That’s good. Now, *take your eye, and hand it to my brother. Go quickly*, don’t want to keep him waiting.’ He smiled.  This time Eric offered no opposition to the direction. I thought that without the instruction he may not have been able to move at all, he seemed close to losing consciousness. I can only imagine the horrified expression on Nathaniel’s face when Eric walked into his office, blood trailing down his face, knife in one hand and his own eye in the other. I wondered if it would upset him to be handed one of the eyes he always claimed to admire so much.  ‘Molly, *see that he makes it there*, he seems unsteady.’ Master ordered me and I moved to follow after the boy. It was apparent that when he told Eric to go quickly he had. So by the time I caught up with him he had already entered Nathaniel’s office and I struggled to find a way in without being seen. There’s no point in my gift if I cannot get into the room to begin with. I managed to find a vantage point beside a window on the roof, though the curtains were drawn I could hear through the glass well enough.  ‘-Is that all?’ Nathaniel was speaking calmly.  There was a long pause, ‘Yes, that’s all.’ Eric responded. ‘And you do agree to the terms?’  ‘Yes. I will obey any order you give me without fail so long as I hear it. I will never tell you a lie. I will never use the weapon that you have granted me against you and I will live for as long as your lifespan. I accept these conditions.’ Eric replied in monotone. ‘As a final condition, from the first time you choose to use it, you will never again be able to return it to a human state. You will have to live with it forever, do you understand?’, It almost sounded as if he was trying to dissuade the boy.  ‘I do.’ He answered calmly.  There was another moment of silence before Nathaniel answered, ‘Very well…’ he agreed exhausted.  When I next saw Eric it was some months later. Winter had set in and snow was piled on the ground. Other servants were clearing the pathways when the court yard doors opened and Eric returned. Spots of snow decorated his dark hair and he wore a thick jacket with a knitted scarf. Beside him was a small human family, a woman and her three children who looked around the area in awe as Nathaniel, Markos and Calla approached them. Calla had been assigned to Markos and Eric to Nathaniel once their training had completed.” She explained briefly then continued, “Markos and Calla led the family away while Nathaniel remained with Eric.  ‘You did well.’ He praised, though there was no true emotion behind the words as he tilted Eric’s chin up to look at him. ‘There are so many this year.. I don’t know that we’ll have room for them all..’ Eric murmured, averting his gaze. Nathaniel seemed entertained, ’Let me worry about that, we have provisions enough.’ he assured. I didn’t hear the rest of their conversation for my master approached. He came to stand by my side in the shadows and patted down the length of my hair slowly as he spoke, ‘It seems that my brother has decided to ignore my warning.’ He mused. ‘That appears to be the case.’ I agreed obediently, briefly returning my attention to the pair of them to see that they were now headed inside.   ‘*When an opportunity arises, take the orphan into the sub levels. Show him what’s kept down there.*’ Master whispered the order in my ear and I nodded.  From then I spent my days paying even closer attention to the orphan than I already did and hoping for the chance to fulfill the command I had been given. It’s.. Somewhat uncomfortable to be under an order that lasts any extended length of time. It consumes your thoughts and makes it difficult to focus on anything else, it’s a permanent state of *waiting*.  Eric was almost never alone, if he wasn’t with Nathaniel, he was with Calla and if he wasn’t with her, he was out collecting children. Fortunately I caught a break when he separated from his master one night after dinner. I fell into pace with him and he stopped, ‘Orphan, there’s something I need to show you.’ I stated politely.  ‘Not interested.’ He responded flatly.  ‘Your Master wants me to show you something.’ I lied.  At this the boy snorted, ‘He’s not my ‘master’ and if he wanted to show me something, he wouldn’t send *you*.’ He stated bluntly, moving to leave the area. He was irritating. ‘Nathaniel is hiding something from you.’ I told him finally.  This caused him to pause, ‘No he’s not?’  ‘He is.’ I said honestly, ‘I can show you what it is.’  Eric hesitated still, he seemed to be thinking through his options, ‘What is it?’ He asked at last.  I shook my head, ‘I can’t explain. It must be seen.’ I could see him weighing up his curiosity against his distrust.  ‘How long will it take?’ He asked eventually. ‘Not long, we can go right now. It won’t move.’ I could feel the order loosening, he was going to accept.  ‘Okay.’ He agreed and I began to lead him toward the sub levels.  You know when you have reached them because the hallways become like a maze. It’s difficult to navigate and it feels as though the room is spinning. If you don’t know which direction to take you may easily become lost. ‘Keep up.’ I instructed as I noticed Eric was starting to slow.  ‘This is the sub level. Nathaniel said I shouldn’t come here..’ He said uncertainty.  ‘He says that because he doesn’t want you to see. That’s what the definition of hiding something is.’  He looked displeased at my explanation but continued on. We stopped when we reached the stairs, they led down to a heavy wooden door, gargoyles sat atop the banisters and I made my way down without hesitation, though Eric followed more cautiously, ‘How much further?’ He asked.  ’Not far.’ I reassured as I opened the door way into the room beyond. ‘It’s.. Just the kitchens.’ He said relieved.  ‘Yes.’  ‘So what of them? They eat tons of meat. They have to prepare it somewhere.’ He stated annoyed. ‘This isn’t what you’re here to see.’ I mused, gesturing for him to follow.  I opened the next door and allowed him to step through into the processing room. It was a good time to visit, the production line was just commencing. If we had arrived later in the day the meat would have already been largely processed and barely recognisable, however at the beginning there is no mistaking what it is for the corpses are still quite whole. The machinery hummed and clanked in rhythmic timing as the operation began. The bodies entered from the right, freshly slaughtered and hung upside-down to allow the blood to drain out before they moved through the skinner. Once the skin was removed, workers removed the head, hands and feet, as well as any other unsavory appendages. They were then sent on to be quartered, the choice cuts were separated and de-boned. The offal is thrown into a crusher to be ground and the whole area gets washed down before the next batch is sent in.  I wondered if Eric was able to identify the children from the family he had collected in the days prior, or the little girls from the months before. Not all livestock is processed immediately, there is no meat on a starved body and they must be made plump first, or sometimes the masters simply wish them to grow somewhat before slaughter. His breathing became shallow, he stepped back until he hit the wall and slid down it slowly. He seemed to be in a state of disbelief, he was quivering and tears welled in his eyes. I was interested to know what he thought. Though I supposed he understood.  ‘..All-.. All of them..?’ He whispered barely audible.  It took me a moment to understand the query, ‘Oh yes. All of them.’ I confirmed, ‘Your master is very pleased with your numbers. They keep a leader board, your rank is the highest by far. You should be proud, you serve them so well.’ I commended. It was curious, his expression then was.. Pained? Remorseful? I can’t be certain, I’m not entirely familiar with that specific emotional range.  I was about to continue explaining the process to him when the group of three entered from the opposite door. They had come through from the slaughter room and were talking amongst themselves casually.  ‘-that will be enough to fill all the orders for the following months.’ Markos was saying.  ‘We should consider a second expansion.’ Nathaniel was insisting as they conducted their routine inspection.  ‘Let’s not over-extend ourselves.’ Master answered to which his brother rolled his eyes.  ‘We can train more collectors brother.’ He sighed. ‘In a few years we could have no supply problems at all- Oh..’ Markos cut off mid agreement as he was the first to notice us. Arbitrarily the brothers followed his gaze and their attention came to rest on Eric. ‘Oh indeed.’ Master commented, he gave me a pleased smile before turning to see his twin’s reaction. Nathaniel stood rigid with shock, though no emotion crossed his face as he and Eric stared at each other. It was as if neither of them could quite comprehend what they were seeing. I can only imagine their thoughts. The lies Nathaniel had so carefully arranged were crashing down, the world Eric knew was shattering and all the while machinery continued to slice *meat* in the background. It was a pleasure to be a part of that moment.  ‘..You lied to me.. This entire time…’ The boy was coming to a new realization. Anger was replacing shock and he was starting to stand, using the wall for support as he did.  ‘Eric..’ He started but didn’t seem to know what to say.  ‘You killed them, every one of them!’ Eric shouted in response. ‘It’s just business, they’re just livestock, you must understand-…’  The Orphan cut him off, ‘They’re not livestock! They’re people! Every one of them-, I brought them here so that you could ***help*** them! You told me you sent them to Sweden!’ ‘Come now Eric, you didn’t truly believe that did you? Surely you had your suspicions? Yet you still collected them because I asked you too, don’t hide behind morality. You ignored what you didn’t want to see.’ His attempts to calm him were uneffective.  Eric grit his teeth, ‘I didn’t think you were butchering and eating them!’  ‘I can put him down for you if you prefer.’ My master offered generously.  ‘You will do no such thing! I can fix this.’ Nathaniel snapped back quickly.  Master gave a short laugh, ‘Will you never learn? He’s already in the right place, just kill him and hang him with the others-..’ He stopped. The air crackled with energy.  Beside me, Eric was removing his eye patch. He let it drop slowly from his fingertips to the ground and beneath it I was surprised to see the eye was intact. Though the iris was a darkened purple that filled the whites of the eye almost completely and the pupil was a thin slit. The silver crescents on his neck lit up, glowing a bright white as an energy ignited up the length of his arm disintegrating his sleeve. The skin at his shoulder split and magic spilled out burning away the flesh as it transformed his arm.  When it was complete his human limb was gone, replaced by that of a monster. I’m sure it must have hurt, though he showed no sign if it did, there was pure malice in his eyes and his glare could have withered daisies.  ‘What kind of contract did you give him?’ Master demanded of his brother. ‘I gave him a weapon..’ Nathaniel answered tranquilly.    ‘You gave him a weapon like that? Are you mad?!’  ‘Everything is fine, he must obey my command as per the contract.’  ‘Any command I *hear*.’ Eric corrected him calmly, as he took a knife from his belt in his left hand and stabbed it into his own ear canal. Not one of them moved to stop him as he repeated the process on the other side, deafening himself permanently. I suppose they were entirely too surprised. Or perhaps they simply didn’t realize the consequences of what he was doing until it was too late. Eric exhaled in pain as blood trickled down his neck on both sides and he took a moment to steady himself.  I could see the implication of what he had just done dawning among the others. Their expressions varied. Markos looked apprehensive while Nathaniel seemed to be caught between disbelief and horror. My master seemed equally astonished though he also appeared afraid. Loopholes in contracts are common, though they are designed to benefit the masters.. So for him to use it to his own advantage was.. Unheard of.  ’…He’s your pet, you will deal with this.’ Master told Nathaniel as he took a step back, ‘Molly, *observe*. I want to know all that happens.’ He ordered and I nodded, then Master departed with Markos. Eric seemed to remember my presence for the first time at that moment and as I was the closest thing he lashed out at me first. I jumped away swiftly but made no effort to engage him, my orders were simply to monitor.  The Orphan didn’t pursue me, instead his attention returned to his master as the man drew the sword on his belt. He seemed to be calculating before he made his next attack, he surprised us both by targeting the machinery instead of Nathaniel. Workers scrambled out of the way as he tore through the mechanics with his arm.  One of the machines sparked violently and combusted after the impact. This was especially troublesome as most magic is flammable which makes fire difficult  for them to combat and in the ensuing chaos Eric disappeared. He slipped out following along the conveyor track that brought the bodies in. The order I was given compelled me to follow, though it was rather unpleasant pushing past the bodies. I came out in the containment room and could see right away that Eric had broken the locks on the cages.  Livestock were running out the exit doors into the sub level tunnels, castle servants were scrambling to corral them back and I hurried to find the Orphan.  In the hallway I found him stumbling along, it was clear his balance was off but he seemed to have purpose in his direction. His enhanced eye was dilated and scanning the area as if he was searching for something.  However I soon realized what it was, for ahead my master walked unaware of how the situation had escalated. Eric moved quicker the moment he saw him, his footsteps were light in just the way we had been trained and Master only noticed his approach at the last moment. Sharp claws met with a shield of energy as the resulting discharge threw them both back.  Eric was unfortunately quick to recover and Master looked rather annoyed, ‘I warned my brother so many times to destroy you.’ He sneered, drawing a weapon to face him with. They fought in brief interactions, but the boy was swift and my master was out of practice. As it became apparent that he was outmatched my Master retreated, using his magic to put distance between them. He managed to escape and Eric continued his pursuit after him. However as I moved to go after them an explosion from below rippled through the castle’s foundation. It caused some of the old stone to give in and I was momentarily delayed by a collapsed ceiling. This meant that by the time I regained sight of them they were on the rooftops, though getting up there myself was no easy task.  Blood stained the pure snow and it seemed Eric was about to dispatch Master when an arrow flew, striking the boy through the left leg. It caused him to falter and he stumbled. I turned to see where it had come from and saw Calla, she stood beside Markos in the courtyard, ‘*Another, through his thigh*.’ Markos instructed and the girl obliged.  Naturally Master took the opportunity he was granted and moved to cut him down. However, to everyone’s surprise metal connected with metal and sparks sprayed off sizzling in the snow.  ‘What are you doing?!’ Master hissed as Nathaniel now stood between them, I didn’t see where he had come from but energy radiated off of him in waves that dissipated slowly into the air. ’I cannot let you destroy him… I have told you that I can fix this, allow me the chance.’ He bargained.  ‘How can you fix this? He is deafened! He will never hear your command to obey!’ ‘Please brother, I have asked you for nothing else but this and you owe me as much…’ Nathaniel implored him.  I’m not entirely sure what he meant by that, however Master seemed annoyed, as if he had brought up something they weren’t ordinarily to discuss, ’You have asked me for a great many things in regard to *‘this’.* Yet you expect me to oblige you once more?’  ‘I do.’ He confirmed.  I could sense my master’s displeasure as he responded. ‘…Very well. But I will have you know I disagree and you may invoke no more favors from me.’  ‘I understand.’ Nathaniel responded calmly as he turned his attention to Eric. The Orphan had taken the opportunity to remove the arrows from his leg and now faced him with a knife in his left hand, ‘Really Eric, you must be exhausted by now, give up.’ He said, irritated that he even dared to oppose him.  When they met in combat it was clear that Eric was at a disadvantage, slowed by his injuries and unable to use his right arm against Nathaniel he stood little chance. Their battle took them further from the courtyard across the rooftops and Eric nearly fell more than once as they got higher up. It ended when Nathaniel caught a hold of him and slammed him back against the outer wall of one of the towers with enough force to crack the mortar.  He held Eric there preventing him from raising the knife again and placed a hand over one of his damaged ears. A glow emitted and the boy flinched away begrudgingly as Nathaniel restored his hearing. ‘*You may never compromise your hearing again*.’ He commanded immediately.  ‘You promised I would be free of commands, you promised *you* wouldn’t use them on me again.’ He hissed.  ‘I lied.’ Nathaniel answered calmly, ‘Now *drop the knife*.’  Eric scowled as he reluctantly allowed the knife to fall away and Nathaniel readjusted his grip to hold him by the throat as he continued, ‘Do you have any idea how much damage you have done? Our entire operation is compromised because of this stunt.’  ‘That was the intention.’ he retorted spitefully. He was trying to loosen Nathaniel's grip, though it was pointless, they are far stronger than we are and in response Nathaniel slammed him back into the wall again. It must have hurt for he gave a soft sound of pain and glared back at him with disdain. ‘That’s *enough! Behave*!’ He snapped, ‘Now listen to me. You’re going to stop this nonsense. If you wish to pretend you didn’t see the slaughter house that is perfectly fine. But you will not act out in this way. Am I making myself clear?’.  Eric set his jaw and tilted his head up defiantly, refusing to answer. Though he at least had the good sense to stop struggling.    ‘*Speak!*’ He ordered in response to his resistance.  ‘Fuck you!’ He said venomously in response fulfilling the command, ‘Just kill me and get it over with.’  ‘Kill you?’ He laughed humorlessly as he leant in close to threaten him. ‘I don’t think you understand the position you’re in here. Your life is forfeit, I hold your contract and I can make you obey anything I say, you belong to me. You should take a moment to think about what that means if you displease me again. I’ve been kind with you so far but my patience wears thin. Perhaps my next order should be for you to assist in the slaughterhouse? Or maybe it should be that you consume human flesh? Tell me, which would you prefer?’ He asked coldly.  I saw fear in his eyes for the first time then, perhaps he understood the world of monsters more truly now. ‘..Nathaniel.. Please.. ’ Eric whispered more meekly. ‘You’re afraid? Good. There is some sense in you.’ He muttered exasperated, ‘I don’t ***want*** to do this you know. But you’ve left me no choice! Destroying our equipment, releasing all the livestock, attacking my brother! What else am I supposed to do with you?!’  He shouted and Eric flinched which seemed to bother him.  ‘You don’t have to do this.. Just let me go...’ He begged softly.  Nathaniel let out a slow frustrated sigh, ‘My brother was right, I should have destroyed you years ago for all the trouble it would have saved me.’ He stated ruefully then gave the commands, ‘*You will say nothing more until I tell you otherwise. You will not attack my brother again, nor will you destroy any more of our castle. Follow me.*’  Eric did as he was instructed and Nathaniel led him back down to the courtyard where Master waited. He watched them approach with caution. ’*Step forward, kneel before my brother*.’ Nathaniel instructed and Eric dropped to his knees reluctantly before Master, ‘*Speak and apologize for your behavior.*’ ‘I’m. Sorry. For my behavior.’ Eric hissed resentfully. ‘Good.’ Nathaniel mused though Master didn’t seem impressed.  ‘That was hardly sincere.’  ‘Sincerity doesn’t matter. The point is he is under my command. The problem is solved.’  Master thought for a moment, ‘Barely. Our operations have been severely impacted. He should be punished for his actions.’  ‘..What would you suggest?’ Nathaniel asked calmly.  ‘Command that he feel pain.’ He suggested nonchalantly.  ‘You don’t have to.’ Eric growled, I could tell he was still fighting the order to kneel.  ‘*Quiet*.’ His master ordered him, then responded to his brother, ’That’s unreasonable, he is already injured.’   ‘If you cannot make the command, I can punish him for you in other ways.’ Master offered.  ‘No.’ His brother answered in a controlled manner, though still delayed a moment longer before giving the command, ‘Eric.. Do you remember the pain you felt when I bestowed gifts on you? *You will feel that pain once more*.’ The results were immediate and Eric writhed in pain. I didn’t envy him. Perhaps if Eric had learned to submit without defiance he could have saved himself the agony. When it was over, he lay still in the snow breathing heavily as the shock faded. ‘Are you satisfied brother?’ Nathaniel asked without emotion.  ‘For now.’ Master agreed.  ‘Good. Then we will be leaving.’   It was Nathaniel’s intention that Eric should continue to collect livestock for them under his command. Though the destruction of the processing room was problematic..” Molly mused to herself and I realized then that my hour was up. Of course I still had more questions, but they would have to wait as the guard buzzed through the door to escort me out.  [NEXT]() [Chapter List](https://www.reddit.com/user/xXKikitoXx/comments/xhj9xo/eric_linnaeus_stories_discussion_thread/) [.xXx.](https://www.reddit.com/user/xXKikitoXx/comments/vl2ws4/hi_and_welcome_to_my_page/)

I did it a dozen times before, but tonight things went different

yekkqj

nosleep

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/yekkqj/i_did_it_a_dozen_times_before_but_tonight_things/

Guys, I need some advice and I need it quick. Here’s what happened. ​ There was nothing special about today. I had days like this before - it’s all the same. I just did the usual: drove my ass to the gas station, stick out with Cory a bit, grab a beer, do my thing, go home, get down to business, get to sleep. ​ My routine is almost automated by now, I start to lose the thirst for life. It’s always the same: same words, same actions, same consequences. My life is boring, but I guess it would be even worse without letting the steam out. ​ I don’t have many friends, and if it wasn’t Cory who helps me from time to time - you could call me a loner. That has always been like that since Ma & Pa passed away. So I take care of the house, mow my lawn, toss some carrots and apples around for deer to it - that’s my life. If it wasn’t for my thing - I’d go insane, I tell you. ​ Tonight felt as bland as the three times I went out before. Nothing new, same old. But I was out already, so… ​ There was that chick at the gas station, very pretty. I ate a mint and walked to say hi. She was friendly and nice. I liked her. Then we went to my place, as usual. I did the same things as I did with my other guests. To make the impression, you know… Candles, nice music, the right amount of temperature. ​ “Make yourself at home, hon” - I said to her, walking to pour myself some whiskey. She refused to have some. No wonder, that’s a man’s drink. ​ But when I came back - she wasn’t there. She left. I dropped the glass and it shattered off the concrete floor. That was my favorite glass, you know. ​ I was overwhelmed with frustration, as the night was ruined. I didn’t expect much, but this was not expected. Nobody left this house without me walking the out through the backdoor. ​ But soon I noticed some more details and my frustration quickly washed away with fear. For the first time in my life, I feared for my life. My machete was gone. I left it right there - on the table across the room. For putting some respect to her, you know. And to tingle her nerves. The ax was gone too. I called it “Finisher” for obvious reasons. She took it from me. ​ I have no idea how she untangled herself - nobody did this before. I did the same knots as usual. ​ What do I do? There’s an armed person who wants to harm me in my own house. I can’t get to the police, because, you know… They will look around, find my mementos and if they do - I’m getting a night-night injection. I can’t leave, 'cause if I do - she will bring cops here herself and we’re back to the first scenario. ​ So I’m asking for your advice, guys. I can hear the floorboards creaking above, she’s still in the house somewhere. She’s not running away for her life. This time is different. I locked myself in the basement, as I am typing this. But she’s smart. Help.

I Was The Hitchhiker.

ydx5e2

nosleep

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/ydx5e2/i_was_the_hitchhiker/

It’s awkward to be the hitchhiker… to be on *this* side of a scary folktale. Let’s not talk about how I got here. Not really important. What matters is that I’ve never looked more disheveled. And I’ve never felt more awkward. Just a weird-looking dork sticking my thumb out on an empty road, sandwiched between two forests. Pitch black. It’s midnight, I think? I didn’t have my watch on me. Or my phone. Or anything else that tells the time. My internal clock ain’t great either. But let’s say it’s between 10:49PM and 2AM. I think. Probably. Car goes past. Doesn’t even think of stopping. Ah, I don’t blame ‘em. Looked like a couple that were just coming back from a fun camping trip. They don’t need my nonsense right now. I mean, I wouldn’t stop for me. Would just be silly, really. I’ll hold out hope. Maybe a van filled to capacity, save for one seat in the back, would stop for me. They could take a chance. After all, if I tried anything funny, I’d be vastly outnumbered. Twenty minutes pass. No van. Actually, no cars at all. I guess people don’t really use this road. Or it’s late. And hitchhiking on a Wednesday night, or a err… Thursday morning, isn’t really a wise move. Ooh, look, a car! They’re slowing to stop… No, no it doesn’t look like they can take me… but they look… apologetic? That’s sweet. They’re sort of mumbling “sorry” and shrugging. Ah that’s fine. I’m just glad you looked at me, really. I’m pacing. I wish I had my cigarettes. I hate being in one place for too long. I hate being alone with my brain. I ruminate. I hear sounds coming from the forest and they creep me out. I think about worst case scenarios all the time. You know how your brain can drum up something much scarier than anything real life can throw at you? Yeah. I just need to try to be present. Second thought, maybe I should just stay in my head. It’s safer up here. The more mindful I get right now, the more it’s clear I’m in the middle of the fucking road with no hope of getting home. There’s a feeling of tension in my chest. It’s tight. It aches. I breathe into it. It’ll dissipate. I’ve lived with anxiety long enough. I have my tools. Yes, I did in fact notice the car in front of me on the road slowing to a stop. And no, I’m not gonna get my hopes up. Shit. The driver looks professional. Like she actually has her life in order. Hun, don’t do this. Statistically, this isn’t a good move. The odds are not in your favor. She looks like she just straightened her hair. Like she’s coming from some sort of tech conference. Business casual. You could put her in a brochure. Fucking hell, she looks my age. Don’t do this. I could be a maniac. I can wait for the van. “You look like you’ve had a rough night,” she says. I keep my distance from her. “Hey, uh, look, thank you for the kind gesture but… I’m actually kind of waiting for a car with more people in it. So that it’s… less weird for everyone,” I respond. She laughs. “Get in. I’ll be okay.” If I’m being honest, I’m praying for another car to come by. Nope. I get in. Lady, I’m gonna give you a lecture about safety once you drop me off. It’s not wise to pick up a scruffy hitchhiker like me in the middle of the night. “Whereabouts you heading?” she asks. “Uh, honestly, two hours in the direction you’re already driving. I’m in Morgantown. Anywhere in the city is fine.” “Cool. I can take you a good chunk of the way there I think. Depends on how much I like ya!” she says, laughing. “I’m kidding.” “I’m just grateful for the ride. Thank you.” We sit in silence for a bit. I was hoping she’d put on the radio or something. Usually people are more talkative. I don’t want to start ruminating again. I wonder what she’s thinking. Does she regret picking me up? Is this weird? Is she scared for her safety? She shouldn’t be, but I get it. This is weird, right? “So, I do have to ask. It’s Thursday morning at 1AM. What are you doing in the middle of the road?” she asks. 1AM. Nailed it. My internal clock is better than I thought. And look, lady, I know you just want to have a conversation, but I really don’t want to answer this question. “A, uh… retreat with my friends. We do it every year. It’s a bit of a ritual,” I say. She looked confused. “Right. And does the retreat end with you standing in the middle of the road? Looking… the way you do right now? No offense.” “None taken. And uh, no. I left early. On not so great terms,” I respond. She snickers. She looks at me. Kind of warm. “That’s it?” she says. “That’s it” I respond. She shakes her head. Awkward silence. I’m starting to go back into my head. Please turn on the radio or something. “You know… if you talked more, it’d be easier to trust you. I mean, I did pick you up in the middle of the night,” she says. I laugh. “You’re free to drop me off wherever you want. I feel weird about this too. It’s kind of like when you’re accidentally walking behind someone at night. And you feel weird. But you two are going the same way.” “And yet you stuck out your thumb. And got in the car,” she says. “Good point.” I mean, it was a good point. It’s good to self-reflect sometimes, right? I can be a hypocrite, sure. She laughs again. “Okay, I’ll tell you something about me. But *then*, you have to tell me more about you,” she says. Damnit. She’s cute. “I picked you up because… I’ve had benders before. In a past life…” She motions to her clothes. “I mean c’mon, I didn’t always look this *fancy.* I had to sort some shit out in my life.” For someone who claims to be as grounded and put together as you are, picking me up was pretty silly. Again, statistically, a pretty stupid choice. “And so, you know, I had nights where people would go out of their way to drop me off home. I’ve *literally* been in your shoes, you know. Disheveled, barely awake, drunk out of my mind, sticking my thumb out on an empty road. And honestly, it was just as scary getting picked up. But… I trusted people. And they took care of me, and brought me home. So in a way, I guess I’m… paying it forward. I have full trust that the universe balances things out,” she says. She said all of that with a smile. Kind of endearing. Not sure if I trust all of that, but endearing nonetheless. I begrudgingly nod. “That’s actually kinda wholesome.” “Now you,” she says back. I sigh. This road runs long. It’s kinda scary outside. Maybe if she likes me enough she’ll take me all the way home. I don’t want to be out on the street again. I’ll open up. A bit. “Alright, so, you ever have that group of friends where you’ve changed so much as a person that you probably shouldn’t be friends with them anymore, but you also feel obliged to show up when they ask you to come out?” I ask. She snickers. “So you end up going out to that stupid event you know you shouldn’t be going to. And you regret it *immediately,*” she says back. “Exactly. So I go. Because we’re all buddies right? And we go way back. Except, I don’t like the idea of getting trashed at a hostel. And having to… give the group my phone, my keys, my wallet, everything. Play that stupid game we all play,” I say. “Stupid game?” I sigh. “Alright, but you have to promise to not judge me,” I say. She shrugs. Her eyes say “you can’t stop me”. Fine. “The game is… basically, that, uh… each of us has to hit the town and find a girl to uh… bring back to our room. Anyone who doesn’t succeed has to sleep outside without any of their belongings,” I say, embarrassed. “Wow,” she says. “You and your friends really are chauvinistic morons, aren’t you?” I make a face. “Like I said, I really shouldn’t be friends with them anymore.” “Awe, I’m kidding” she says. You shouldn’t let your guard down too quickly. I haven’t finished my story yet. I take a beat, then I continue. “I came this time, but my terms were clear. I’ll hang out, we can drink, and I’m happy to be a wingman to anyone playing that stupid game. But beyond that, I won’t be participating. I wanna stay at home, kick back, and have a relaxing time.” “You didn’t really think they’d let you *not* participate, did you?” she says. “I did! That’s why I came!” “Really?” she asks. “Really really!” She shakes her head. “Moron.” “You’re almost getting too comfortable with me now!” I say. “Great diversion. But you didn’t tell me the whole story, did you?” she responds. You know, if I had cigarettes and a light, I’d be happy to go back onto the street. But I don’t. Alright, you win. “Okay, well… they pulled their bullshit on me. I had a couple of drinks in me, and slowly those assholes grabbed my keys, my wallet, my phone, my fucking smokes. Little by little. Pricks”. Fuck, I’m getting heated. I’m scaring her, aren’t I? “By the time I knew the jig was up, they all got together to try to pick me up and throw me outside. Y’know, force me to play that dumb game with them. Force me to bring a girl back to our room”. I’m rambling. Let’s try to cool it. “You lost your shit didn’t yo–” “I lost my shit” I respond. “I freaked out. I’m not usually an angry drunk, but something in me snapped this time. Mark grabbed me by the legs and Francesco had my arms and they were trying to drag me outside. They were laughing. So I started kicking. And punching. Hard. Once I got my footing, I was just straight up swinging at them. Full force. I feel like I did some damage. Nothing, like, too severe, but… you know. Mark fell to the floor. I kept hitting him. Everyone eventually tore me off of him, but I was still, like, lashing out. Not physically anymore, but verbally. Like, *emotional* abuse. It was weird.” Goddamnit, I need to save this shit for therapy. “I, uh, anyways. They just looked at me, mortified. Like I was a freak or something. And so… I walked out the front door. And here I am. Took me fifteen minutes of walking to realize that I didn’t have my phone… keys… wallet… cigarettes. Anything. I wanted to go back inside to ask them for my stuff, but it just felt so weird. Like something was stopping me. Just think it would’ve been so awkward, y’know? To freak out, punch my friends, and then come back and say sorry. I know I’m rambling, by the way. I kind of get stuck in my head sometimes. Sorry. Really wish I had a cigarette right now.” I say. Fucking hell, I can’t even look at her. She’s staring at me like I’m a fucking moron. Keep your eyes on the road please, ma’am. “Dude, you’re a fucking moron,” she says. “I know.” “What’re you gonna do about your stuff?” she asks. “I don’t know. I’ll just… call them or something. Later. Like, in a few days. To apologize. I’ll… need to borrow someone’s phone to do that, obviously. *Or*, alternatively, I could bring you back to the hostel tonight. They’ll let me come back in if I bring a lady, right?” She stops the car. Fuck. I’m sorry. “Stupid joke” I say. Awkward silence. She slowly starts driving again. “You’re not making this easy,” she says. “I know.” The road stretches long. “Are your friends smokers too?” she asks. “Nah,” I respond. “Just me.” “You… sure about that? Why would they lift your cigarettes if they don’t smoke?” “Just to like, be dicks I guess. They’re just like that.” Fuck. This road is long. Guess I never really paid attention to roads before. Hm. That’s kind of weird. Why is there an eye on the glove compartment box? Why is it blinking? “What… is that?” I say, pointing. She giggles. “Just decoration. You missed that when you got in?” “Fuck, I’m out of it,” I respond. Silence. “You think your friends will forgive you?” she asks me. I shrug. “I mean, who knows. We were already drifting apart anyway. Maybe it’s for the best if they don’t forgive me.” “Right. And how does Riley feel about it?” she asks. Huh. I talked about Riley? When did I mention him? “Riley?” I ask. “Yeah,” she says back. “Uhh, yeah. I don’t really know how he feels about it. Probably the same as the other guys. Hey, when did I talk about Riley?” Silence. “I never said his name before,” I say. She sighs. “Yeah you did. You’ve been rambling for a while. Repeating yourself over and over again. And then forgetting that you said anything,” she says. Fuck. What? I look in front of me. The road stretches long. I look back. This road stretches long. Fuck, how much did I drink? Am I fucked up? And seriously, why is there an eye on the glove compartment? “And now you’re spiraling. You’re in your head, and it’s gonna be super quiet and awkward for another few minutes,” she says back. Shit. Keep it cool dude. Clearly, my hitchhiker etiquette needs some work. I’m being unseemly. “Sorry, I just… weird night.” “It’s fine. Just… take a chill pill Michael. Breathe in. Relax. It’s all good,” she says. … “I never said my name before,” I say. “You are *really* forgetting stuff.”. “*No*, no I’m not actually. And I hate to use a very overused term, but it feels like you’re gaslighting me right now,” I respond. “Look, I’m not comfortable with you freaking out at me” she says. “Just look out your window, take a breath, and cool it. I’ll get you home.” Fine. Fucking hell. Back in my head. With my thoughts. Back to looking outside. This road stretches long. This road stretches really long. Am I losing it? Take a deep breath in. I’m okay. It’s been quiet for a little bit. I think I can calm down. *Yes,* that fucking eye is still there, but – “You know, I think Mark smoked your cigarettes after you left. To calm down.” Alright, she wants to break the tension by theorizing about my friends. Fuck it, I’m here for it. “I think he smoked them indoors. A few of them. I think he tossed them, half-smoked and still lit into a large potted plant. I don’t think he knew any better. I think they caught fire,” she says. Wait. The road isn’t narrow anymore. Why does it feel like we’re driving on a large open field? “What are you say–” “I don’t think your friends knew what to do. They were probably too fucked up. So the whole place was up in flames quickly. Really, really quickly. I think the fire got them.” Fuck. Eyes on the road. Stop looking at me while you’re driving. “Hey–” She’s smiling at me. Right at me. Deranged. I look away. I look in front of me. We’re in the cosmos. But it’s not inspiring. It looks like hell. Black holes all around us. Empty space. What the fuck is happening. I don’t want to look at her. But I can see her in my peripheral vision. She’s still smiling at me. I look over just a little bit. Her smile and teeth are extending beyond her face. Her face is extending beyond her face. Her whole being is taking up more space. She looks animated. Unreal. Pitch black. Unreasonably happy. Her smile is so clear. It doesn’t make sense. I feel like I’m prey. This feels like nature. Her eyes are smiling. Warm. She’s looking at me harder than anyone’s ever looked at me in my life. Fuck. When did I start looking back at her? I don’t want to be looked at. Don’t look at me. I can’t scream. But. I’m still alive. Maybe if I keep doing what I’m doing, I can stay alive. “If it wasn’t the cigarettes, it would’ve been something else. You shouldn’t blame yourself,” she says. Did she always sound like this? I turn away from her. My eyes are back on the road. Sorry, on the cosmos. The universe stretches long. “They were all going to depart tonight,” she says. She’s not using her mouth to talk. “You wouldn’t want to see what’s in my mouth,” she says. Don’t think. Don’t think about this. Just look ahead. Eyes on the universe. Just don’t move. Fuck. Wait. Is that my house? Why is my house in the middle of the fucking cosmos? Why is it here?! I want to go home. *Real* home. “I can feel your muscles twitching in your arms. And legs. I can smell your intestines.” I don’t know what to do. I need to stop thinking. It’ll pass. One way or another, this’ll end. “You never eat carrots. Lying is a casual sport for you. You’re happier than you pretend to be,” she says. She’s in front of me. She’s splattered on the windshield. I can feel her face on the headrest against the back of my head. She’s speaking into me. “You’re trying not to think.” Correct, ma’am. I hope this fucking car crashes. “No you don’t. You’re hoping it’ll all be okay. You’re praying it’ll all be okay.” Stop. Thinking. Zen. Quiet. Breathe In. And Breathe Out. She’s still looking at me. Breathe In. And Breathe Out. She’s stretching into the cosmos. She’s everywhere. In and out. It’s okay. That’s how anxiety is. It’ll get worse before it gets better. Breathe In. And Out. She’s in front of my face. She’s even closer when I close my eyes. In. And Out. In. And Out. Breathe. “Were you supposed to be there tonight, too?” she asks. Yes. “Yes.” “And yet you weren’t,” she says. No. “No. No I wasn’t.” “Do you deserve this exit?” she asks. I don’t know. “Not sure.” “It’s coming up soon,” she says. “I know.” “I’ll ask you again,” she says. Fuck. She pierces my hand. And my shoulder. “Did you change enough, before tonight, to deserve this exit?” she asks. Please end this. “No! No I didn’t. I think I’m a piece of shit. I think I deserve to die,” I say back to her. She makes a right on the exit. And we drive. Out of the cosmos. Everything returns to form. Like how it all should be. Trees. Road. Concrete. Gravity. Sky. And… I’m home? That’s it? I’m home. It’s morning. The sun is coming up. Pardon the cliche, but I actually think I hear birds chirping. And she’s… business casual. Professional. All put together. But I’m bleeding. From my hand and my shoulder. And that eye on the glove compartment box is still there. We’re parked. On the street right in front of my house. Okay. I’ve always been particularly shit at saying goodbye to people who dropped me off. I open the car door. I trudge onto the sidewalk. I look back at her. I close the car door. A slow trickle of blood onto the sidewalk. A little bit on her car. Sorry about that. I should go inside and get myself cleaned up. Fuck. No keys. We’re looking at each other. “You said some really mean stuff about yourself back there. You shouldn’t sell yourself short, you know?” She says it with a smile. I believe her. I do a half-wave, and before I can think to myself “please god just fucking drive off fucking please”, she starts driving off. Down the long road. It stretches long. And long. And long. And long. And she’s in view still. Smaller and smaller. And then she’s gone. … It’s kind of nice outside. Never realized how pretty this neighborhood is. Maybe I’ll stand here for a little while.

Incident Report: May 21st, 2022 – Safety Training Video

ye1l7c

nosleep

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/ye1l7c/incident_report_may_21st_2022_safety_training/

The tape is a slightly modified VHS tape. The casing was slightly larger, and the magnetic tape is a quarter of an inch wider than a standard VHS tape. A custom built solution had been created to translate the data onto a standard tape during research of a [previous finding]( https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/skrifu/incident_report_august_2nd_2003_audition_tape/). The magnetic storage technology is exactly the same as VHS, but we couldn’t find records of a tape of a similar size produced in the United States. Tape was recovered from a vintage video store in <REDACTED>, FL on May 21st, 2022. The tape was listed in an online auction and on several websites inquiring about its origin. The tape appears to be a training video for a manufacturing company, however there are several cutaways to what appears to be candid footage of workers on the site. The company name, which is redacted for this report, is not registered in any country we were able to pull records from. The video is transcribed below. --- *Transcription:* Footage opens on a shot of the company logo with the name in big white letters over a cartoon style sky with a few white clouds. Pleasant music plays. Scene plays for exactly 5 minutes (Research note: this was measured to the picosecond). Scene cuts suddenly to a man walking in front of a large machine of indeterminate use. Audio seems to speed up and slow down almost imperceptibly as he speaks. The pleasant music continues in the background, but is much quieter. >Eric: Welcome to your first day at <REDACTED> Manufacturing! The camera pans to the left slowly, following him as he walks. The man’s name and title appear on the screen briefly. >Eric: Congratulations on your new position, and welcome to the <REDACTED> family. My name is Eric and I’m the head of Safety and Security here at here at the plant. At <REDACTED>, our goal is to make sure your employment needs are met, your environment is comfortable, and most importantly, that everyone remains as safe as possible. In the background, a man and a woman in lab suits mop up some kind of viscous mess. >Eric: Now, I know there are people from many departments taking part in our training briefing today. You might feel like a lot of this information doesn’t apply to you, but everyone ends up wondering around eventually. So please pay attention to the safety protocols for *all* areas of the plant, even if you don’t think your specific job will ever require you to enter them. You never know what the future holds, and being prepared, is being safe! --- Footage cuts to a shot of a man high up on a catwalk. There is no music, only the sound of wind. The man appears to be writing down reading from a display above him. He stumbles backwards a few steps, then slumps over the rail and falls. A gasp is heard as the camera pans away quickly. --- Footage quickly cuts to the logo screen again. The music starts up again, and the scene plays for exactly 5 minutes. There are more clouds drawn into the background this time, but other than that it is the same as the opening scene. Footage cuts suddenly to an office setting. Eric is sitting on top of a desk that a woman is working at. She hands him a piece of square paper that appears blank. >Eric: Thanks, Gwen. He spends just under a minute staring at the paper before looking back up at the camera. >Eric: At <REDACTED> Manufacturing, we’re not all wrenches and machine work. Many of you are likely here for one of our office positions. I know the product gets the press, but we wouldn’t be able to operate without the fine folks here in the office taking care of all of our administrative needs. He places the paper back on the desk and stands. >Eric: The office is, as you can imagine, one of the safest parts of the plant. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t things to keep your guard up for. He begins to walk to the left, and the camera slowly pans to follow him. In the background, most of the office workers appear to be asleep at their desk. >Eric: Many objects in the office are sharp. On a daily basis you may use things such as staples, letter openers, and paper cutters, just to name a few. --- Footage cuts to a top down view of a desk in what appears to be a cramped office. All four walls can be seen in the shot, and they are filled with shelves and books. In the center is a small desk. A man and a woman sit on opposite sides. The woman is clearly distressed. >Woman: No, just *look at it*. >Man: I *saw* it, okay? I know. Look, it’s probably just some prank, alright? The woman pushes a square sheet of paper across the desk. It appears to have a full page image on it, but it can’t be made out in the low resolution footage. >Woman: How can it be a *prank*? Look, there’s my name on the header, and the document title. This was supposed to be a schedule proposal for maintenance. But it’s a picture of me *at the printer* taken *from the printer*. Why does it even have a camera in it? >Man: I don’t think it does… >Woman: And what is that…. thing… behind me? The man picks up the paper and looks at it, shaking his head worriedly. >Man: I don’t know. You know how the guys in IT are. They’re probably just- >Woman: I’ve been… hearing things. I never feel like I’m alone, even at home. Even in my *car*. >Man: Alright, alright. I’ll… I’ll ask around. >Woman: I just… --- Footage cuts back to Eric walking through the office as the camera slowly pans left. All of the desks are empty and the lights are off. >Eric: Please use office equipment responsibly, and only for company related work. Something shifts in a darkened office doorway in the background. (Research note: it’s impossible to tell if this is something roughly human shaped moving in the doorway, or just some video compression artifacts) >Eric: And finally, in every break room you’ll find a first aid kit. Inside you’ll find everything you’ll need to respond to an office incident. Adhesive strips, bandages, antiseptics, defibrillators, a revolver with 3 rounds loaded, and alcohol wipes. --- Footage cuts to a security feed of a dark parking lot. The woman from the previous clip is seen walking to her car. As she reaches into her purse for her key she snaps around quickly and starts looking around the parking lot worriedly. >Woman<distant>: Hello? The woman appears to be grabbed by the foot and pulled under her car. Distant screaming can be heard as the car rocks back and forth for a few seconds before the scene goes silent. It sits on a still image of her car in the distance for just over a minute. --- Footage cuts back to the company logo. The clouds appear to be a bit darker. It is otherwise the same as the first logo scene. Footage picks back up with Eric waking through what appears to be some kind of factory floor. The camera pans left slowly to follow him. Behind him, massive machines stretch out of frame in every direction. >Eric: This segment covers the basics for the safety on the manufacturing floor. Now, you will be instructed on more specific safety protocols based on your individual area of work, but today we’ll cover what you need to know to stay safe in general. First, please pay attention to the lines painted on the floor. Eric gestures downward and the camera pans down to see a red line painted on the floor. It sits between Eric and the cameraman. >Eric: If you’re on the same side of the line as the machines, you need to scurry back on over as quickly as is safely possible. A loud mechanical whirring sound is heard as the camera spins around quickly. --- Footage cuts to five men in hard hats and thick jumpers standing in front of a massive machine. They are standing by a circular opening roughly two feet wide with an opened access hatch. >Man 1: Alright, here you go. He holds out a mop to a second man. >Man 2: What… do you want me to do with that? >Man 3: Scrub the dilution chamber. >Man 4: Needs to be clean for the next batch. >Man 2: The manual says it’s self-cleaning. >Man 1: It is, but the wash module is real finicky. It’s been leaving residue in there that’s been corrupting the batches slightly. Not enough to scrap production, but enough for Q.A. to notice, so we gotta take extra steps until it’s fixed. >Man 2: But… The second man looks into the dark chamber apprehensively. >Man 5: We’ve all been in there. It’s perfectly safe. >Man 2: <deep sigh> Alright. The second man scrambles into the small opening and reaches his arm out for the mop. >Man 2: I need some light. The first man passes the mop through the opening and starts shining a large flashlight into the machine. >Man 1: See the marks? There in the back? >Man 2: <muffled> Yeah. Okay, I’m- The third man slams the match closed. >Man 2: <muffled, barely audible> HEY WHAT THE FUCK!? >Man 1: Hahahaha, welcome to the team, rookie! The men erupt in laughter as desperate banging can be heard from inside the chamber. >Man 2: <muffled> Let me out! >Man 1: Alright, keep your pants on. There is a sudden, very loud crashing sound from inside the chamber. >Man 3: What was that? >Man 4: Intake? Can’t be. The system is.. >Man 1: Too loud, something’s wrong. Get the hatch open. The third man begins trying to open the hatch. >Man 3: Shit, it’s stuck. You okay in there, rook? There is no response. >Man 1: Oh fuck, rookie? You hearing me? >Man 4: It’s too quiet in there. >Man 3: I fuckin’ know! Something makes a clicking sound and the third man is able to pull the hatch open. >Man 1: Finally! The first man shines the light into the chamber. >Man 1: Rook? Jim? Where you at? He pushes his upper body into the opening. >Man 1: <muffled> Jim? Hello? >Man 3: What do you see in there? >Man 1: Nothing. He’s just… gone… >Man 5: <looking around at the various large pipes attached to the dilution chamber> JIM!? >Man 3: Oh god, we’re all gonna- --- Footage cuts back to Eric. He appears to be picking the camera up from the ground. It makes a wet squelching sound as he strains to pull it free from something off camera. >Eric: Here we go. As he steadies the camera it pans around the massive factory floor, passing quickly over a puddle of viscous black fluid at his feet before settling back on his face. >Eric: Also keep an ear out for the bells. One bells means get to the nearest exit as quickly as possible. Two bells means get your mask on. Three means the dilution chamber is- --- Footage cuts to a shot of the open hatch. A low mechanical hum is the only sound that can be heard. The camera slowly approaches the chamber as the cameraman starts to breathe heavily, apparently through a mask. Three low toned bells ring out. The low hum mutes a little as the camera enters the hatch and a large, spherical brass chamber can be seen. The camera pans up to see a large opening, roughly four times the size of the entry hatch that leads up into darkness. Along the back wall is a large dark stain about 4 feet long which appears to bubble up from the brass wall about an inch. On either side are two openings, each appearing slightly smaller than the hatch entry. The camera pans around and another identical stain can be seen on the bottom of the chamber near the hatch. The camera snaps up to the larger opening as a high pitched noise bursts so loud it distorts the audio. --- Footage cuts to another company logo segment. There are more clouds and they are much darker. Actual rain drops appear to be falling between the image and the camera. This scene plays for exactly 3 minutes. Footage cuts back to Eric walking down a long hallway. He is being filmed from the front as the cameraman walks backwards. >Eric: I hope you found this video informative. We here at <REDACTED> Manufacturing hope you have a long, safe career with us. Be sure to check in with your local security and safety advisors for more location and responsibility focused safety procedures. Until- Eric stops and looks around as the walls seem to shift and warp strangely. >Eric: What… What’s this? A flood of shadow pours into the hallway behind them. Eric shields his face and screams as it washes over them. The next few minutes are complete darkness. The sounds of Eric and the cameraman screaming can be heard. They seem to move close to and far from the camera pretty rapidly, over and over. A sound like a low growl is heard, then tearing, then the rush of water. --- Footage cuts to a beach. The camera appears to be laying on its side facing an ocean. The back of Eric’s head can be seen laying in the wet sand as the tide washes over it. Another low growl is heard, then Eric’s body begins to be dragged off of the screen as the footage ends abruptly. --- **Investigation Notes:** The beach at the end of the video is believed to be along one of the coasts of Florida. A shirt with the <REDACTED> Manufacturing logo was found washed up on the shore in <REDACTED>, FL, and that’s the same city where the tape was found. The final moments of the tape are believed to be a transition between two realities. Research believes the world on the tape in a separate reality, but there are too many similarities for it to be completely removed from our own. They have found a number of examples of items from that reality making their way into ours. What’s troubling, is that process always seems to involve <REDACTED> crossing over with them.

I am trapped in a twisted recreation of a childhood memory. Alone, in an endless world of water. [FINAL]

yeaew5

nosleep

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/yeaew5/i_am_trapped_in_a_twisted_recreation_of_a/

[\[Part 1/2\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/ydcuav/i_am_trapped_in_a_twisted_recreation_of_a/) I watch for a minute more as the great shadow circles the platform. As it dips in and out of sight, ever-threatening to rise up and into plain view, overwhelming me, taking me as it took the corpses. And of course- trapped here on the platform as I am- there is in all likelihood next to nothing I’d be able to do in my defense. I try to make out the shadow’s rough shape. Get a gauge on exactly what it is that I’m dealing with here. But every time it rises towards the surface… As my adrenaline surges and the deep-blue mystery below promises to give way to something more substantial, it just dips back down. Waiting. Biding its time. And eventually it simply disappears. I watch as it begins to shift and slither away beneath the water, gently rippling the surface with the mass displacement it causes as it moves… Vanishing away, back towards the direction of the slide and fading out of sight down into the depths. I wait, and I watch. For a long, long time. My phone still works, but maddeningly only enough to input text into that curious, blue screen. It refuses to tell me the time, and as such I do not know exactly how long passes before I find the courage to return into the water. …I have to, of course. What other choice do I have? Nothing else has come my way. There are no solid objects I can see in any direction, and my only hope of a change in environment is that blue light at the end of the mist. So I have to go on. I have to. I clamber over the rail and slip myself down into the water, doing my best to disturb it as little as possible. Instantly afraid and hyper-conscious of my exposure to anything lurking beneath, I start to swim. Slow, powerful movements, gliding through the water to the limits of my abilities, focusing solely on the end ahead. On that blue light, drawing surely and steadily closer. I resist the urge to look beneath the surface as I swim. ...It’ll do me no good. All I’ll see beneath is the void. The deep, dark, endless void. And I daren’t tempt fate. I should think my mind would be overrun with panic were I to dip my face below the water. To see the appearance of some monstrosity beyond recognition emerge from the darkness far below. And what could I do in such a situation anyway? What possible defense would I have? So I just keep going. Praying silently as I leave the relative safety of the little platform far behind. Through the mists ahead I see the unmistakable end of my surrounding fog-filled purgatory. I never thought I’d ever be so relieved to see a stretch of that damned, white-tiled wall, but here we are. A passageway leads away through the wall, and it is this passage that is bathed in the blue light. It has no floor, however, so I will have to swim through it. A sudden wave of cold passes over me. The muscles in my body tighten, and with the end in sight, the fear that the shadow is now below me increases tenfold. So much so, in fact, that I cannot prevent myself from looking beneath the surface. I just have to. I push my face beneath the water and bubbles stream up past my line of sight. A moment later and I am greeted by the sight of my arms. My legs. ...And the darkness of the deep. From the very lowest depths of this gloom emerges a shape. Formless, yet dense. A blur arising from the world below. A rumble rises with it, and I jerk my head back into the air. All pretence of care is lost as I throw myself through the water. Tearing across the surface as fast as I can, kicking for all I am worth towards what I have presumed to be the relative safety of the narrow passageway ahead. Closer… … Closer… *It’s coming. The shadow is coming, Adrian.* I scream with desperation as my joints begin to burn, and at last I make it through the gap in the wall, swimming down the corridor as fast as I can. My foot eventually strikes against something beneath me, and after a moment of near-debilitating panic I release to my overwhelming relief that it is simply the floor. Hard tile, rising up beneath me. I place my feet against it and scramble and splash my way up and out of the water, collapsing against a wall and struggling not to vomit, my raspy breaths heavy and echoed off the tile of the tunnel I find myself in. *Am I in Hell?* I wonder briefly, retching and wiping my mouth, coughing and spluttering. I feel so small in this place. This sprawling, unending complex. *I want to go home, now. How do I get home?* I close my eyes, I try my best to remember how it was that I got here, exactly, but I am unable. Once I’ve caught my breath I clamber to my feet, wincing, stretching out my legs, then striding down the length of the tunnel, my feet slapping against the tile with every step. It widens into a hall much like all the others. The light in here is faint and green. A curved, tunnelled slide loops round and around and disappears beneath the water just ahead. To my left is a diving board, and memories are triggered of the diving board at the pool. The one I’d visit with my Dad. The one in this warped nightmare however is at least four times the height. It extends way up towards a section of vast, high ceiling. A ceiling that shimmers and ripples like the water itself. I was always frightened by the diving board. The thought of jumping off something so tall unnerved me. My Dad had a go on it once, to show me that it was nothing to be scared of, but I still never went on it. Even when I was old enough to. I look down at my shirt, the Hawaiian shirt that I’m sure belongs to my Dad, and I tug the collar. I grimace and turn to the right, with the intention of passing around the water before me and heading through yet another arch in the wall. As I do so, I hear the voice. Crackled, broken, distorted, from everywhere all at once. *“It’s the father. The father is the key. Proceed”.* In an instant, the water around me surges. It churns and begins to crash up against and over the tile like waves. The trickle that ran down a nearby slide becomes a raging torrent, spilling its output all over the floor, and it rushes past my ankles with a sudden strength. “Oh Christ”, I mutter, running through the arch and into another hall, this one wider even than the first. I stand on the second level. Water crashes and cascades in a rising crescendo, and I watch as the room’s pillars and slides are gradually submerged. The various corridors and passageways out of the room close off to me one by one as their entrances dip beneath the water. My plan is to run around the edge, to pass through an open archway there and to hope for the best, but the sound of my father’s voice calling out to me from the rush of the water grabs my sudden, frenzied attention. “Adrian!” I hear him call, “ADRIAN!” I look around, desperately, until I see him carried by the rushing of the river round a corner, arms thrashing. “DAD!” I call out, abandoning my plan and skidding my way across the tile, jumping down into the water as close to the entrance of the corner as I can. The surge of the rapids grabs me at once, and I am rushed down a winding, open-topped corridor, one I recognize as the lazy-river. The one I used to play in all the time. What I’m sure however was once a simple loop, gently carrying its passengers round and round in a circle, is now a roaring river, throwing its riders against the walls as it carries them through a labyrinth of passages. “DAD!” I call out again, spluttering as a blast of chlorinated water splashes against my mouth. “ADRIAN, PLEASE!” I hear him cry out again, and I propel myself through the water, fighting to keep my head in the air as I narrow the distance between us. The man is not as strong a swimmer as he once was. I raise my head and I catch a glimpse of him, his arm out-thrown as he is hauled around the next corner by the relentless current. “I’m coming Dad!” I call out to him, “just hang on a little longer!” I kick for all I am worth, following after him, rising and falling against my will as the waves throw me around. Straining my muscles as I approach, my vision blurred by the froth and the spray, I reach out, and I grab him. I hold him tight with both hands, “it’s alright Dad, we’ll get you of here!” I shout to him above the sounds of the waves, but he feels so *cold*. Panicking, I look down at him, horrified by what I see to such an extent that for a second I simply release him in shock. The man has no face. No features of any kind at all, actually. He is a dummy. A tool that lifeguards might use in training. He wears my Dad’s clothes and fake hair has been attached to the dummy’s scalp, but a dummy is all it is. I grab it again, uncertain. Staring out and around down the river. “Dad?” I call out. “Are you there? Where are you?” “What’s happening Adrian?” the dummy asks in my Dad’s voice. I look back at it at once, staring into its face, but there is no mouth. No way for the thing to speak. “What the fuck is this?” I mutter, scared, and *angry*, now. “WHAT’S GOING ON? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?” I shout out into the sky as the river rages. But I receive no response. Not from above, anyway. “Where the hell are we?” my Dad asks, except… it *isn’t* my Dad. It can’t be. Every time I look at him, he’s just that ridiculous, lifeless dummy. “…I don’t know… Dad”, I murmur in reply, coughing as water rushes up my nose. When at last the river appears to be nearing its end and a platform becomes clear ahead, I reach out an arm to grab hold of the side. The intensity of the waves and the river’s speed has died down significantly, and I am able to haul myself and the dummy up onto the side, with a little bit of effort. Panting and wiping the water from my eyes, I look over at the dummy, sprawled out across the tile. “…Dad?” I ask it, cautiously, but the dummy does not reply. It makes no further reply at all, actually, despite my several attempts. I nonetheless opt to pick it up with a grunt, hauling it over my shoulder and carrying it through the only remaining archway available to me, and it leads into a room I’ve been in before. The one with the diving board. That monstrous diving board, warped from my own memory, and in this moment I am reminded of the very first thing I saw upon my arrival in this place. ‘NO DIVING’. A sign against the wall, a black stick figure crossed through in red, only, the diver wasn’t diving *down*. He was diving *up*. I raise my neck to the ceiling above the diving board. To the watery, shimmery glow. A humorless laugh escapes my throat. “Is that it? Is that my way out of here?” Movement catches my eye and I half-turn, looking up towards the ceiling. There is another of those panels of blue, frosted glass. Eerie light spills from behind it, and shifting about beyond are those same, unsettling shadows. *“He is not ready”*, comes a voice. I glance down. At the base of the wall below the glass is a hole in the wall, about the same size as myself. It is bathed in the exact same shade of blue as the kind behind the window, and it leads towards a set of tiled stairs, ascending upwards. I consider this route. I consider heading through the arch and up the stairs. Would it lead me to the room beyond the glass? Would I see for myself the source of the shadows? I hear the sound of a gurgling drain, the kind a bath makes when the plug is pulled, and I turn around to see that the dummy has vanished. A great puddle of water remains, spilling out over the tile and pouring past my feet. ...I make my decision. I head to the diving board. My intent whole-heartedly to leave this twisted world behind. I’ve seen enough. I’m done. *“He cannot leave now”.* *“He will never learn the truth”.* I ignore the voices. I come to a halt at the base of the diving board’s enormous ladder, and after a deep breath, I begin to climb. Rung after rung. Up I go. Up, up towards the board itself. My stomach turns as I ascend, and I do my best to struggle through my anxieties. Childlike fears return to me, but instead of pushing them aside I allow them to wash over me, in the manner of the river. I feel them, ever-moving as I do so, rung after rung. Rung after rung. And then I realign my thoughts on the goal. On getting out of here. The only way out, it would seem, is to break the rules and deal with the consequences. NO DIVING. *We’ll see about that,* I think with a bitter smile. Up, up, up. When I finally reach the summit and climb unsteadily onto the diving board, I become truly aware for the first time of how massive the structure really is. I am monstrously high off the ground, and it’s like I can feel a breeze against my face as I peer down over the side, hands shaking against the board. The drop is nightmarish. Below me is nothing more than a wide, dark pool of silent water. Waiting to swallow me up. I lift my head. Above me is the shimmering, translucent ceiling. Flickering blue with occasional flashes of light from beyond. If I stare, if I really, really focus… I swear I can see shapes through the blur. Crude, solid shapes… but it’s impossible to tell exactly what it is that I’m looking at. My heart pounds like a machine. I feel like I’m going to be sick. *What if this doesn’t even work? What if I screw it up and I crash back against the board, falling to the darkness of the void below?* But I have to try. I’ve been a pawn so far, pushed from place to place and merely reacting to the things around me. But now, I have made a choice. And I intend to stick to it. So with blood rushing through my head, I stride to the end of the board, hyper-conscious of its narrowness, and I raise my head to the ceiling. I picture the stick-figure in my mind, diving upwards as he was to the world above, and off I go. I throw my arms out before me, and I jump. Upwards. &#x200B; Imagining that the ceiling is the floor and that I am about to fall through it. With my eyes closed tight shut I feel the pull of gravity shift. My inner-ears throb as my up becomes my down, and I am carried as I hoped, directly through the shimmer of the ceiling. Like water it splashes and crashes against me and I feel myself completely submerged. I hear that voice again, like that crackly old speaker, but it is lost to the bubbles as I propel myself downwards… or… no, *upwards*. I release a breath of air from my lungs and watch as the bubbles drift upwards away from me. I follow them, kicking my legs and spreading out my arms, until at last I emerge from the water, gasping for air, scrabbling about for something to grab hold of. I feel the edge of a tiled platform and pull myself onto it, shaking my hair of the water and blinking out the stuff in my eyes, cautiously taking in my surroundings. I am alone, still, but I am not in the world *below*, anymore. I sit by myself, at the edge of a pool. To my right is the entrance to a lazy river, and beyond are a pair of inter-linked slides. Directly ahead and on the opposite side of the pool is a sculpture of a white sphere with a crack down one side. It isn’t as large or as grandiose as I remembered it. And to my left is an archway in the wall. It leads outside, to an area of open-air pool. *…Outside.* It’s night-time now, but the wall here is made of glass. I can look right through it and see the sky, with the moon and the stars reflecting their soft, ethereal glow against the face of the water. I clamber to my feet and stretch my arms. I’m wearing different clothes, now. Soaked-through, of course, but *mine*. I set off towards an emergency exit, pushing through it with a clank and taking a long, deep breath of the cool night air. I push aside the thoughts of the horrors I have faced, for now. There will be plenty of time to consider them later. The implications of my time in such a place, and the risk of an unwanted return one day. But I think I’ll just get home, for now. Give my Dad a call. He’ll appreciate hearing from me, I should think. Perhaps he’ll be amused to know that I paid our old pool a little visit.

Trinkets and Talismans (Part 2)

yeq47f

nosleep

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/yeq47f/trinkets_and_talismans_part_2/

[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/wea5fc/trinkets_and_talismans_part_1/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) "Sorry Andrew, I don't have much time but I would love to meet your brother another day. How long is he in town for?" I said nervously, peering over to my house looking for any excuse to leave. "No problem, honestly I hope he won't be sticking around too long. My brother and I don't exactly see eye-to-eye. He has always been...troubled. I worry about him sometimes so it is nice that he came down to visit. Have not seen him for a little while. Marianne doesn't like him very much either." Andrew replied. "Ah.. see, that is a shame. I am really sorry I must be going, I am meant to have the next chapter of my new book finished ready for the upcoming publishing date." "Oh, you're publishing a new book soon? When? If you're hosting a party or something we would love to join you in the celebration." Andrew smiled. It almost felt like he was being genuinely supportive, It made me uncomfortable but I tried my best not to let that show. "I'll send you and Marianne the details. I appreciate the gesture, I will see you later yeah?" I smiled awkwardly back, trying to be polite. I turned and walked back down his driveway and over the road to my house, staring forward and trying not to show how fucking scared I was, I am not even sure if I am convinced that Andrew's brother was a person at all. Those eyes of glass that pierced right through me felt so intense.. Maybe Andrew isn't the dangerous one after all. \- I gave myself some time to ponder over what I was feeling and tried to process it all, I didn't really know what to do. I had nothing to link Sean Smith's disappearance to Andrew at all.. that's if he actually did anything. Maybe he was covering for his brother this whole time or something? I decided I needed to invite them over like Andrew suggested. A little celebration of the publication of my new novel, get a couple drinks in us and see if I can get him to slip up. We'll keep it small so he isn't intimidated by all of the people I'll invite his brother and Marianne for support.. Maybe, just maybe, I could I get some sort of confession? At least find out where he moved all of his random little trinkets and knick-knacks. I spent the passing days observing their house, I watched Andrew come and go and kept and eye out to see any sign of another person in the house, which was incredibly strange as today Marianne came back home from her trip and I never once saw Andrew with his brother. \- I managed to time it pretty well as only a few days after Marianne had come back from her trip, I finished my novel. I couldn't really wait too much longer as I was unsure if Andrew's brother was still in town or not but I didn't want to get suspiciously close to them to hint anything further to Andrew that I was still onto him. I went around the neighbourhood to a select few people and handed out invitations, I posted 3 of them through Andrew and Marianne's letterbox.. I was going to try and narrow down the amount of attendees as much as possible and I knew there was only one way to do that which wasn't going to be obvious I was pinpointing my evening towards Andrew. ***Kat's Pre-Publication Celebration!*** *Lunch and Drinks at 28 Lowe Blvd - 13th May 2022* C*elebrating Kat finishing her latest novel.13:00pm to 18:00pm - No Children* No kids. No kids, no parents. Most parents get pretty upset when they find out their children aren't included and don't attend.. I know you get the odd few who will take advantage of it and drop them off at their grandparents or get a babysitter so they can have a good night but I wasn't betting on that happening and it turns out, I was right. \- An elderly couple from a few doors down were the first to arrive, they came in and greeted Harry and I and congratulated me on my work. We had a quick chat about the actual publication date and I offered to make them a cup of tea. They both agreed and went to sit outside when the doorbell rang. "Harry can you get that for me please?" I said, looking over my shoulder at him as I boiled some water. Harry nodded and opened the door. "Howdy Neighbour!" Marianne yelled in some kind of attempt at a Southern USA accent. I could hear Harry laugh a little and welcome them inside followed by some inaudible nattering. I turned and headed out the back towards the elderly couple sitting on one of my outdoor sofa's and gave them their drinks, they thanked me and sat, visibly enjoying the suns rays on their faces. I felt a comforting arm wrap around my waist. I peered over and Harry kissed me on the cheek. "Marianne has just popped back home to grab something that she forgot. Come say Hi, she won't be a minute." he said. I walked through the kitchen to the front section of the house, Andrew standing there with a bottle of champagne and a small but beautiful bouquet of flowers. "Hello Andrew" I said "Hey Kat, I hope you are well. Congratulations.. Here, we got you these." He smiled, handing me the items he was holding in his hands. "Oh, thankyou. This is very sweet. You didn't have to do this, It hasn't even been published yet." I said, trying to sound grateful. "Did your brother not want to come?" I continued, looking around the entryway area to see if I could spot anyone else around. "No. He is a bit of an introvert and doesn't want to be around Marianne when she has been drinking, but he said for me to tell you congratulations also." Andrew said. Marianne pranced her way back in through the front door looking like she had already consumed half a bottle of alcohol before she got here. "Hellooooo beautiful, it's so good to see you!" she said, announcing her presence like she was centre stage, not really listening to the fact we were mid-conversation. "Oh dear, okay well tell him I said thankyou. And thankyou again for the thoughtful gifts." I paused for a second and smiled at her. "And hello to you Marianne! I hope you are well. Now that you're here. Let's eat, I am starving." I continued, walking over to the kitchen with Harry, Andrew and Marianne following closely behind. We all sat outside eating and chatting to the lovely elderly couple for some time. I actively went out of my way to continuously top-up Andrew and Marianne's drinks. I didn't want to make it super obvious I was trying to get them drunk but at the same time, part of me didn't really mind because Andrew seemed to be drinking enough without my help anyway. I thought to myself for a second. Should I really try my luck now? I should wait until the other two leave before bringing anything sensitive up, after all, I didn't know how Andrew would react to my questions, especially since he was already aware that I suspected him for Sean's abduction. We continued some general chit-chat across the table for a while before the elderly couple announced their departure, they were absolutely lovely, they thanked me for having them over and made their way home. "So, Andrew. I heard you cleaned out your room of "knick-knacks" How long did that take you?" I said with a little giggle. "Ah, Marianne telling you everything already huh?" he replied. "Unfortunately for you! We're neighbours, we may as well be friends too! Come on, tell us about the collection you had. Was there any special history to any of them? You had some very interesting things in there." I said trying to play off how nervous I was. "Meh. Some of them did, some didn't. Nothing too interesting." He replied in a stern and blunt tone. "Ah, I see... hey, now that it is just us, would you like to see if your brother wants to join us?" I responded. Marianne turned and looked extremely confused. "Brother? What are you on about?" Seemed like Andrew was not prepared for this at all.. his face turned white, eyes fixed forward, locked onto mine. He said nothing. Marianne turned to Andrew and started questioning him, shouting and confused, she was quite obviously very drunk. Andrew slowly turned his head towards his wife and stood up "I'll see if he wants to come.. I will be back soon." Marianne chased after him and we followed closely behind. "Andrew!" Marianne shouted. "What is Kat talking about? You have brother?!" He turned around and with as much force as he could, he slapped Marianne and shoved her against my car that was parked in our driveway. *"SHUT UP YOU STUPID BITCH, FUCK! YOU HAVE SUCH A LOUD MOUTH! JUST SHUT UP FOR ONCE!"* Andrew screamed. I stood there, jaw on the floor. "Harry! Call the police now!" I shouted as my husband approached to restrain Andrew. I had no words, I could not believe what I was seeing. I was right.. Harry knew I was right. The look he gave me told me so. Marianne, still pinned up against the car, sobbing and crying to be let go. Andrew stood and quickly realised the mistake he had just made as he watched Harry dial 911. Andrew let Marianne go and took off across the street towards his house, leaving his wife on the floor of our driveway sobbing, gasping for air. *"We got you, you son of a bitch!"* I shouted towards the house as he ran inside. *"YOU ARE DONE YOU FUCKING MONSTER! YOU HEAR ME? DONE!"* I continued. I don't know why I did that, the fear my body felt immediately after those words came out of my mouth.. I could not stop shaking. Harry and I helped Marianne up from the ground and ushered her inside as we waited for the police to arrive. What an awful turn of events, I knew the topic would have caused some tenseness between us but I did not expect this at all.. The sirens and red and blue lights approached and pulled up across the road. \~ I stood up and made my way towards the door, as I reached for the handle, I hear Harry's bloody curdling scream from the other room.

My Sick Wife is No Longer the Woman I Married

yefqe1

nosleep

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/yefqe1/my_sick_wife_is_no_longer_the_woman_i_married/

[Part One](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/y93qgv/my_wife_is_very_very_sick/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf) As I ran further from my house, a wave of emotion had over taken me, my feelings reminiscent of a quickly melting block of ice. Enduring these past few months had shaped my emotional state into nothing more than a hollow, meandering, violent whisper of what it used to be. The stench of sick that had lingered in my nose so long I forgot what clean air smelled like began to fade in favour of the welcoming smell of crisp autumn leaves. For the first time in a long time, I felt free. It almost felt like a shame that I was going to kill myself. Wait. God damnit. I left in such a rush that I didn’t even grab my fucking gun. I don’t know how long I had been running. I know I left in the early morning, and now the sun was directly over head. Shit. It had to have been hours, right? I had no idea. I had even less idea of where I was. Any direction I turned seemed to just be trees for miles. I was lost in the middle of woods with no food, no water, and no gun to even fucking shoot myself after seeing my wife turn into a vomit leaking deformity. More of a tumour than a person at this point. God damnit. Tired. Just tired. I spent hours just looking for a way out, but everything just seemed to repeat. I was just going in a circle. I slumped down into myself as the sun set and the sky darkened. My head throbbed consistently and my breath was haggard, but eventually I fell into a deep, comatic sleep. I had a dream. In my dream, My once young, beautiful Marilyn and I lay nude entangled together on an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar. The walls, floor, ceiling, and furniture were all a shade of uncomfortably bright red. The decor was fancy, like an expensive hotel. Marilyn crawled over me, face to face. She smiled. The flesh on her face began to ripple as if there were thousands of ants under her skin, crawling. Her body rapidly grew rough and skeletal, sticking to me like glue. She brought her slender fingers up to her eyes, digging her nails violently into her corneas. She leaned closer, her warping face closing in on mine; her heavy breath smelled like bile. She put her foul mouth on my neck, and I felt a sickening crawling sensation. I remember suddenly being in front of the mirror, and feeling, now seeing the bugs crawling under my skin, same as Marilyn. I turned around to face her. The red room was gone. I was in Marilyn and I’d room now. What I saw when I turned around... I had vomited, in real life I vomited. But I didn’t wake up. I had already woken up. I was awake, in my room, completely naked. I was facing Marilyn on her caught. Except it tool me moment to even register it as Marilyn It had grown a thick layer of sandpaper flesh over a 4th of the room, it was translucent, pale, and veiny. In the center, atop what could only be assumed to be a flesh covered cot, was a pulsating figure, looking like a sickly chicken fetus. All the flesh was pulsating. It’s face was two bloodshot eyes, wet with tears and an inflamed, vomit leaking little hole. I reached for the nearest object to me, a vase, and swung it as hard as my exhausted arms would allow me. It shattered on impact. The thing that was once my white writhed in pain. Marilyn’s eyes pleaded up at me. Maybe it was all my fault. A year before Marilyn and I married, she fell ill. She was immunocompromised, and I came home with the flu. She caught it, of course, and it began to take a major toll on her health. She was only my fiancé at the time, and I was still learning how to do all this. In my gullibility, I would take anything to make her feel better. I was parked in my car at a gas station after driving Marilyn to the hospital. Taking a moment in the car for myself, I heard a knock at the window. “Hello, friend!” He was a young man, slightly handsome with long hair and stark blue eyes. “I don’t have any change.” I said, expecting him to try and panhandle me so that he has some cigarette money. “I’m not here for change, I’m here to help.” His smile was welcoming when he closed his eyes, but when they were open, he made me feel just a little nauseated. “I know you’re going through some trouble with your girl. I know what can help.” “Who the fuck are you?!” I snapped, alarmed that this absolute st anger knew what was going on in my private life. I didn’t have any friends who would set this up, and I doubt my fiancé’s friends would know a guy like this. The man held his hands out, cradling a ziplock bag. Within the bag was a pink, squirming creature, resembling a chicken fetus. “Man, what the fuck! What do you want me to do with this you fucking freak!?” He leaned his face closer to mine, his shut eyed smile setting me into an attentive trance. “Trust me. Feed it to her in any way, alive or dead. It will keep her strong, for as long as she is faithful. I immediately snapped back to the situation I was in. As long as she was faithful? As long as she was fucking faithful? Rage boiled in my blood. I had taken care of her as she deteriorated in front of me, wasting my life to try and keep her happy. She didn’t know better. She didn’t Know i blended it up and put it into her soup. But she fucking cheated on me. All I ever did was help her and she cheated on me. I stepped out of the horrific bedroom and into the kitchen, grabbing the biggest, sharpest knife I could. All I felt was rage. My temple throbbed agonisingly as I walked back to the creature that was once my wife. I plunged the blade in, as much as I could. Stinking, rotting blood bursting out in clots onto my hands and body. I stabbed until my vision clouded dark with exhaustion, unable to control myself, I slumped onto the cold rough carcass below me. I was coated in cold, coagulated blood. Then my eyes shot open. I tried to move, but I couldn’t. I was stuck. I looked down onto my body only to discover I was connected to this thing, no, more than connected. I was part of it now. I was part of her. Through sickness and through health. I wasn’t faithful to my promise. I guess it goes both ways.

The dead city.

yefp9q

nosleep

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/yefp9q/the_dead_city/

The dead city. &#x200B; There is a city, a city nowhere, nowhere, nowhere. If you don't live in it, in fact, it's even hard to know if it ever existed, exists or will exist, if you do research about it you will most likely come across the same as everyone else, records of acquired land, plans about colossal buildings with no apparent architectural sense and a manifesto about the construction and inauguration of a city somewhere on the west coast, but nothing else, there are no maps, no news about it or any record of any kind about any city that fits the bizarre characteristics, in essence it does not exist, but if it did, it does, it will, but you will never be able to find it, it was built for that. &#x200B; As far as is known, a very wealthy industrial magnate was the one who conceived the original idea, according to his words, he wanted to build the perfect city, an ideal place where there was no problem, no overpopulation, no hunger, no death; he had the idea that, under the right circumstances, he could reach the industrial utopia, the ultimate city, so he got down to work. He called in all kinds of specialists, architects, engineers, scientists, physicists, priests and pagans, anyone who could help him fulfill his dream. Plans were made, schematics and a lot of money was disbursed, so much that, according to financial records, it was literally impossible for that man to have that much, no matter how powerful he was. Even with the colossal amount of land he acquired the man was still concerned about space, for him it was not enough, even though some buildings on the plans marked an estimated sixteen kilometers, both up and down this was not enough, even though he was warned of the risks of such experimental architecture and the fact that even in the whole country there would not be enough people to live in his city this did not matter to him, the man had a dream, and this would be fulfilled even if it was the last thing he would do. At this point the records get fuzzy, it is not clear what actions the man took or what went wrong, but the point is that it happened, overnight the estimated population that the city could support went from several thousand to hundreds of millions, even if not a single other building had been built, by the time this happened all the workers were long gone, There was no one to witness whatever happened, the only thing that is known is that everything was suddenly filled, in the houses, furniture appeared, all and of all kinds, in the stores products appeared, filling the shelves and warehouses, the same with the schools, hospitals and parking lots, everything suddenly became habitable and a day later people arrived. Of all kinds, of all ages and all shapes, they just came just like things, out of nowhere and so, they started a routine, crowds went every morning to work in offices or factories, children went to school and old people just went for a walk, everyone seemed to know exactly what to do and how to do it, as if they had lived all their lives within those thick concrete walls and neon lights. As for the workers, they returned to their homes, to their families, and tried to resume their lives, but they all suffered from the same evil, as if all their conscience and their will to live had remained in that dead city, some went crazy over the years others just committed suicide and the few who survived existed the rest of their lives in a catatonic state, so did the architects and the scientists and basically anyone who had spent enough time in that city, burying their memory, only they knew its exact location and never shared it, they just let it die, hoping that would be enough to kill it, but it was not. Even though everyone forgot her, even though all her detailed records were destroyed or hidden in the depths of some lost warehouse, it was not enough, because the city already had everything it needed. The city exists, it is a fact and it works like any other, there are rulers, policemen, criminals, there are ordinary people, like you and me who live a normal life, like yours only surrounded by pipes, wires, concrete and neon, grouped, stacked and superimposed without sense, trapped in a place apparently inaccessible to anyone, at least that's how it was until recently. It was found in some old internet forum, what appeared to be a document written by an inhabitant of the city, with general information on the functioning of society and citizenship, as well as a manual detailing specific functions of the city, some of the highlights of the document are; Basic regulations for buying in SuperGamma, basic astronomy to follow the thirty moons, 6-hand clock scheme, guide to deal with "Unwanted" and police regulations for architectural anomalies. However, this was not what caused many to become obsessed with investigating the supposed lost city, nor was it the fact that many more blogs and documents were discovered on the internet supposedly coming from that city, nor that some have claimed to have had contact with citizens via message, this was because next to the original document was an unofficial note, supposedly attached by the writer, which had a short and apparently incomplete message which made most think that the fact that everyone involved at the time had kept quiet about what happened in that city to the point of going insane was an act of pure heroism, the message read: City growth is failing.... -------------------.------------- now anomalies appear everywhere .---------------.........------- lead nowhere, many citizens have lost their way....... ---------------...----------- The "Unwanted" are spreading ----------------- they are eating everything--------................-------------- they already invaded the whole lower district-----------.....................----------------......... the higher ups shut everything down and locked us in.................-----------------------...............-------------the hunters are trying to help us..................--------------. ..................-.---but they won't stop them...................---------------..........-.------------- we can't get out of here-------------.-....................---------------we want to get out of this city................-------------.........---------------the city is going to die........------------------------------------............----------we can't get out---------------...................-------------------they are coming. &#x200B; To date, no one has figured out how to get to the city and no other messages have been received from the interior.

What Do You Call Someone with No Body and No Nose?

yeflfi

nosleep

https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/yeflfi/what_do_you_call_someone_with_no_body_and_no_nose/

“Sam, what do you call someone with no body and no nose?!” I’d braced myself for whatever asinine statement was going to come out of Charlie’s mouth as I’d heard his diminutive footsteps bounding into the living room, but this was dumb even for his standards. The nine year old had no shortage of absolutely stupid observations, musings and yes, god help me, jokes that he would dole out at a moment’s notice. If we’re being totally, completely honest here, gun to my head - I couldn’t *stand* the little shit. Kids just weren’t my thing. Never had been, never would be. They’re just *annoying*. You can’t have a conversation with them, they’re always sticky, they’re always yelling. Kids are really just obnoxious little morons. There probably isn’t anyone on earth less suited to the art of babysitting than me. Now, I know what you’re thinking - you hate kids, you’ve done nothing but whine about them, why the hell are you a babysitter? Well, on summer break in Vernon, there wasn’t much a 17 year old could do for work. Aside from waitressing down at The Empty Tanker. I was *not* waitressing down at The Empty Tanker. Not unless I wanted to spend my whole summer getting harassed by day drunk truckers for penny tips. We’d lived next door to the McCutcheons my entire life, and so they’d call on me any time they were in a jam and needed a sitter for Charlie. I hate kids. But fifty bucks is fifty bucks. Mr. McCutcheon had knocked on our door that afternoon and offered *double* the usual rate to watch Charlie for a few hours that evening. It was an emergency, and they hadn’t had time to set the sitting up in advance, but seeing the dollar signs I readily accepted. I regretted my decision almost immediately - Charlie had been especially aggravating that night. From the moment I’d walked in, he’d been running around like a chicken with its head cut off, slamming LEGO spaceships into the ground and begging me for lollipops. It wasn’t long before I reached my limit - after dumping the entire bag of lollipops on the floor in Charlie’s playroom, I devised a new game that he was all too eager to play - “take all your LEGOs apart and put them back together one by one while I watch tv in the living room.” The game was going really well until Charlie exploded into the room, hopping onto the couch next to me with several lollipops sticking out of his gullet, interrupting the trash TV rerun that had me enraptured. He ripped them out excitedly, sticky spit flying in all directions and dripping onto his hand. I scowled, unable to hide my annoyance. “I thought we were playing a game.” I said sternly. “I got bored, I already built those LEGOs. What do you call someone with no body and no nose?” He repeated the question, staring up at me expectantly as he sucked on the bundle of lollipops. I rolled my eyes - the easiest solution here was just to play along with the stupid joke and then put the little retard to bed. “I don’t know,” I answered. “What?” “Nobody Nonose!” Charlie exclaimed, throwing his hands up for emphasis. I wrinkled my nose. “That doesn’t even make sense.” I sneered. “What kind of joke is that?” Charlie looked at me like *I* was the idiot. “It’s not a joke,” he finally said. “It’s Nobody Nonose.” “No.” I corrected him. “It’s ‘nobody knows.’ Get it? Nobody NOSE. It’s a stupid joke. At least tell it right.” Charlie’s face twisted into an exasperated frown. “It’s not a joke Saaaam!” He whined, elongating the middle of my name. I hated when he did that. “His name is Nobody Nonose! He has no body and no nose and he lives in my closet!” What the fuck. I stared at Charlie incredulously. The kid had never had any weird imaginary friends like that before - were the McCutcheons raising some kind of schizo serial killer? “No he doesn’t, that’s an imaginary friend. And it’s time for bed anyway.” I’d had enough of this shit for tonight. Mr. and Mrs. McCutcheon would probably be home soon anyway, it was a good enough excuse to put the little freak down. Charlie crossed his arms in a huff. “But I’m not *tired*!” He exclaimed. “I don’t care,” I answered. “Your mom and dad are gonna be back soon anyway. Come on.” I stood and grabbed his arm, leading him up the stairs. “Well,” Charlie mumbled as we ascended the steps, “maybe you can meet him now. He’s probably awake anyway…” I shook my head, annoyed. As we reached Charlie’s darkened bedroom though, I was slightly creeped out at the sight of his tightly-shut closet door. It *was* a pretty big closet. I reached to flick the light on, and Charlie grabbed the bottom of my shirt, stopping me. “Don’t!” He hissed. “He doesn’t like being woken up that way.” That made my skin crawl a little. Charlie was acting like a fucking weirdo. “Stop being dumb,” I commanded, and flicked on the light. Immediately , there was a soft rustling from within the closet. I froze, and looked at Charlie. He simply shrugged, a gesture of “I told you so.” What was this little fucker playing at. Did he have an animal trapped up here or something? Was he systematically vivisecting some poor neighborhood cat? Slowly, I crept over to the closet door and swung it open. “What the hell are you hiding in here-“ my heart caught in my throat as the closet’s interior was exposed to the light. Inside the closet, laying on the floor, was a giant severed head. It was vaguely humanoid in appearance, with sallow and sickly looking yellow skin. It was gigantic - bigger than a beach ball or even a massive Halloween pumpkin. It was a nearly perfectly round orb, with small pinprick holes on the side where an ear would be on a normal human head. Its enormous mouth hung open in a gaping slack-jawed “O”, revealing rows of razor sharp and needle-like teeth. Between its eyes and mouth was a smooth patch of that yellow skin, no other distinguishing facial features. Charlie had a giant, nearly featureless severed head in his closet. No body, no nose. Before I could scream, before I could think, before anything, it’s eyes shot open. Two massive black orbs accented with murky brownish, slitted reptilian pupils. The eyes locked with mine, and the thing let out a hideous screech, it’s mouth growing even wider than before. It had been sleeping, and I’d woken it up. “Charlie what the FUCK is this!!” I screamed as I frantically backed away from the hideous abomination in the closet. “That’s Nobody Nonose!” Charlie exclaimed matter of factly. “I was playing by the creek a few days ago with Richie and Ted and we found him in that big pipe. We were looking for crickets and he was just laying there in the dirty water.” My blood turned to pure *ice*. “Richie and Ted didn’t really like him…” Charlie sounded sad. “But I told him he could stay here. He’s funny!” The emergency , the reason the McCutcheons had gone out that evening. A couple of kids from around Vernon had gone missing recently. There was a huge search party going on as we spoke, a desperate attempt to locate them. Another pained wail came from the closet - I turned to see Nobody Nonose, floating in mid air. The thing could levitate, apparently. I guess that was how it got around with no body. The freakish orb hovered toward me, spittle dripping from its mouth. “Fuck fuck fuck…” I mumbled to myself, my feet feeling as if they were made of cement. “Sam is my friend!” Charlie suddenly yelled as the creature came within inches of my face. It stopped in its tracks, turning its lizard eyes to Charlie. I took my chance, I raised a leg and kicked at the thing, catching it off guard and sending it flying backwards. I grabbed Charlie and rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind me. “Why did you do that!” Charlie screamed. “He’s gonna be mad!” “Shut up, shut UP.” I demanded as we raced down the steps. “We need to get the fuck out of here.” As we bounded into the foyer, the front door suddenly swung open. Mr. and Mrs. McCutcheon were back. The couple wore grim facial expressions which turned to confusion as they saw us land in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. “Sam,” Mr. McCutcheon addressed me quizzically. “Is everything okay?” “We need to leave **now.** Like right now. Like immediately.” Before he could answer, the sound of a wooden door shattering turned our attention to the stairs. An inhuman screech reverberated off the walls as Nobody Nonose floated down the stairs. Mrs. McCutcheon screamed in horror , her husband’s eyes grew wide. “What in the fuck -“ he began. The creature glided toward Mr. McCutcheon, much faster than the speed at which it had approached me , and in an instant it had unhinged its jaw and clamped down on his head. There was a wet squelch as those pinprick teeth punctured the soft flesh of Mr. McCutcheon’s neck. A dull crunch as the monster crushed his skull. The stench of copper filled the room as reams of dark blood cascaded down over Mr. McCutcheon’s body , leaking from the side of the creature’s mouth. “Daddy!” Charlie cried out in horror as Nobody Nonose released what was left of his father’s body, the corpse crumpling to a heap that was rapidly gushing crimson. I slapped a hand over my mouth , not even able to muster a scream. On the other hand, Mrs. McCutcheon screamed bloody murder. She had gone sheet white, hands around the sides of her face. She was in pure disbelief at the sight in front of her. The creature faced her now, her husband’s blood and bits of viscera staining its wide face and dripping from its lips. The woman turned to run, her fight or flight mode activated. She sprinted into the living room, the thing in hot pursuit. It didn’t take long for it to catch her. Her screaming was cut short, and I could only imagine a similar feeding to the one we’d just witnessed was occurring out of our line of vision. There was only silence now. Charlie wept , clinging to my leg, loudly crying out for his mommy and daddy. I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid that any movement I made would be an invitation for the thing to float back into the room and wrap those jaws around my head next. After what felt like an eternity had passed, we heard shaky and unsteady footsteps on the hardwood, making their way back into the foyer. Into the room stepped Mrs. McCutcheon, only.. not. Atop the body of the woman I’d called a neighbor since childhood , was the bulbous and jaundiced cranium of Nobody Nonose. Blood flowed down what had once been Mrs. McCutcheon’s body, starting from her freshly torn neck hole. The hole that Nobody Nonose had set itself on. It was almost comedic, that giant monstrous head perched on such a petite frame. The head bobbed from side to side as the creature tried to steady itself on new legs. Slowly, it strode toward us, eyes locked with mine. For the first time that night, it smiled, showing off its red-stained teeth in a wide grin. Charlie continued his wailing, mixed with some nearly unintelligible muttering. “Why did you do that?” He cried. “I thought we were friends, I thought we were friends…” the kid sounded so hopeless and terrified and lost. Who could blame him? Nobody Nonose outstretched “his” arm toward me, grunting expectantly. I understood what he wanted instantly. Did I really have a fucking choice? Wordlessly, and through his screeching protests, I pried Charlie off of my leg and handed him over to the monster that had eaten his parents. Nobody Nonose wrapped Charlie in a tight hug and growled in approval, pressing the child tight against the sopping wet clothes stained by his mother’s blood. The creature gave me one last look before bounding out of the foyer on its shaking and unbalanced legs. I heard a window shatter in the distance as they made their way into the night, Charlie’s screams gradually evaporating into nothing. As I sunk to the floor, I clutched my knees to my chest. Sitting at the foot of the stairs next to Mr. McCutcheon’s headless corpse, I attempted to process what I’d just seen. Suddenly , the front door swung open once again, and i was face to face with my father. “Sam!” He exclaimed. “We heard screaming, we heard a window break, what the hell is going on…” he trailed off, mouth going slack as he surveyed the carnage of the room. He stared at me, wide-eyed, unable to speak. It felt like I was floating in another universe, like I was watching my own dream. Tears streamed from my eyes as I began to laugh uncontrollably, a maniacal and insane cackle. “Hey dad,” I said breathlessly, barely able to even speak in my fit of gut busting hysterics. “What do you call someone with no body and no [nose](https://old.reddit.com/user/mikeventure76/submitted/)?”