As The Raven Dreams Podcast - 3 Scary Christmas Stories - HAVE A SCARY CHRISTMAS 🎅

Episode Date: December 24, 2020

3 Scary Christmas Stories - HAVE A SCARY CHRISTMAS 🎅 Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all- I hope you're ready for some really good creepy Christmas stories. All three of these stories tell a... much darker story about the 'Happiest' time of the year.  Be sure to leave a comment telling me which story was your favorite! All stories come with a Mild Content Warning for Language and/or Graphic content. Viewer Discretion is advised. If you have a story you'd like me to narrate, send it my way! https://astheravendreams.reddex.app/submit ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬  【Join The Nevermore】 SMASH That Thumbs Up Button! Subscribble to the Chibble! ➠ https://youtube.com/c/astheravendreams Become a Member to get access to NEATO Perks! ➠ https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCkW0ihdMHfBUjQrMKjRto6g/join Sub to my SECOND channel! ➠ https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCX9TQVx8YUuuI5gBP58NTtA Check out my Website!  ➠ https://www.astheravendreams.com Audiocast on Anchor/Spotify! ➠ https://anchor.fm/astheravendreams Send me Spooky stories! ➠ https://astheravendreams.reddex.app/submit EARLY ACCESS on Patreon!  ➠ https://patreon.com/AsTheRavenDreams One Time KoFi Donations  ➠  https://ko-fi.com/astheravendreams Official Merch Store ➠ https://teechip.com/stores/astheravendreams Follow me on Twitter  ➠  https://twitter.com/RavensDreamYT Join Our Discord ➠ https://discord.gg/ncT9j9H Check out my Subreddit ➠ https://reddit.com/r/TheRavensDream A HUGE thank you to my Channel Member! -Animeotome -Creepy Clown Girl ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬  【Credits & Times】 0:00  ➠  Be Sure To Like The Video! Also there's a Disclaimer... 0:17  ➠  "Saint Nick Is Sick" By Me  ➠   8:19  ➠  "Christmas Day" by Nowhereman0828  ➠  https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/Christmas_Day 25:32  ➠  "T'was The Fright Before Christmas" by Dr. Creepy  ➠  https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/T%27was_the_Fright_before_Christmas Story utilized under CC-BY-SA Licensing per the broad license of FANDOM and CREEPYPASTA WIKI. Community content is available under CC-BY-SA unless otherwise noted. License and information here... https://www.fandom.com/licensing https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬  --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/astheravendreams/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/astheravendreams/support Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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Starting point is 00:00:48 It started on Christmas Eve, somewhere around 10 p.m. on the East Coast. It was a cool, 34 degrees near the coast of Maryland. A light snow was falling, though the milder air would promise that the flakes would never actually hit the ground. The night was practically silent. Even the sounds of the city had calmed on this holiday evening. Most families were enjoying comfortable and quiet evenings. The children were cuddled up in their beds and sleeping as much as the anticipation and excitement of the morning's gifts would allow. The first reports that something had gone wrong were broadcast live on a local news station
Starting point is 00:01:32 during a segment that no one was paying attention to at that point in time. the Santa tracker. Throughout the night, the local news team had been updating their tracker and informing those that were listening on the whereabouts of the Jolly Man himself. This was something they had done each year at this time and had done for over a decade. This year was no exception. At around 7 p.m. local time, they had started reporting sightings over parts of Europe, and each half hour they would move further and further west.
Starting point is 00:02:06 At around 9.58, the team was about to come back from a commercial break and update the tracker. They were all in place and ready for the cameras to start rolling when a message from the studio's head anchor played in their ears. There's a situation developing. Delay the tracker update. The statement made little sense to the crew. The Santa Tracker was just for fun. It had no real bearings on reality. Why would a developing situation require the tracker to be delayed? The camera started rolling on the chief meteorologist, the man that had been assigned to the annual tradition.
Starting point is 00:02:48 He paused and stared at the flashing light for a moment before snapping back to reality and moving forward with his job. Welcome back. We will have an update on the Santa Tracker here in a few moments, but until then, let's take a look at the weather for the next week. Overnight tonight, we will continue to see a few flurries with little to no accumulation, and the temperature will be around... He paused. And once again, stared back to the camera.
Starting point is 00:03:17 After a second, he nodded and shifted his focus. Ladies and gentlemen, my apologies, we're going to be shifting to the street crew for a breaking development. He stood for a moment and waited, the focus of the station switching over to an image of Kara standing near a bench. Thank you, Mark. Kara took a deep breath and stepped slightly to the side. The camera focused on what looked like a wreck on the beach. We are currently on the scene of a developing situation. Authorities are reporting that no more than 10 minutes ago,
Starting point is 00:03:51 something crash landed out here. Based on the wreckage and as you can see, it appears to be a private aircraft. And witnesses reported that the craft was floating along and then suddenly fell at a significant rate of speed. there are police on the scene as well as medics just in case there are injuries, but we are unsure if anyone other than the pilot of the craft was involved. Kara paused as she turned to look at the scene behind her.
Starting point is 00:04:16 The chatter of the police filled the silent winter air. The cameras focused on the wreckage. From where the news crew stood and recorded the footage, the vivid colors of the aircraft, a cheerful red and green, contrasted against the frozen sand. For a moment, the news crew let the situation speak for itself. The red and blue lights of the cop cars, the moonlight penetrating a thick fog that seemed to roll out from the ocean, and the overall confusion that seemed to emanate from the emergency crews attempting to take control of the commotion.
Starting point is 00:04:52 As the stillness hovered over the situation for an uncomfortable amount of time, Kara stepped back in front of the camera in preparation to return the focus to the main crew, A well mark, I think we're going to... Her words trailed off and merged with the chatter coming from the emergency service workers. The cameraman stepped past Kara and attempted to focus on the chaos as it started to unfold. The brightly colored wreckage started to shift, the splinters of wood being pushed to the side as what appeared to be a survivor attempted to escape from the detritus. Kara started to say something, but the camera didn't pan.
Starting point is 00:05:30 the operator kept his attention on the destruction and on the new situation as it unraveled. He zoomed in, as a gloved hand shoved some of the wood out of the way, followed by an arm that was covered in a bright red suit. Oh, get the medics, there's a survivor! One of the officers could be heard shouting a command, and the man continued to push his way from the wreckage. The night was almost filled with a sense of relief. Even one survivor could be spun into a happy ending of this whole situation,
Starting point is 00:06:00 something to label a Christmas miracle even. The thoughts of miracles and optimism were ripped from the minds of those watching. As the oversized man, the one presumed to be the survivor, grabbed the paramedic attempting to aid him and ripped the flesh from his throat. The paramedic grabbed at his neck and fell forward. The survivor grabbed him and latched his teeth into his shoulders. The entire crowd stood in a frozen panic, as they watched jolly old St. Nicholas tear in a.
Starting point is 00:06:30 the flesh of the paramedic, the blood spraying him, coating his fluffy red outfit and staining his snow-white beard. After processing the situation, the police officers all lifted their weapons and started firing onto the newly undead icon of Christmas. The bullets pierced his skin, but seemed to do nothing beyond anger him. He threw the paramedic's body to the ground and sprung into action, grabbing the closest officer and wrapping his maw around his neck.
Starting point is 00:06:59 He continued his murder. rampage with as many officers as he could grab. Within moments, the paramedic's body reanimated and followed suit, attacking the officers and others within the crowd. The attackers grew in number with each assault, the officers, the crowd numbers, and St. Nick himself, all ripping into as many people as they could get their hands on. The cameraman tried to keep the focus on the hellish scene as long as he could. Kara screeched as one of the reanimated police officers leapt at her
Starting point is 00:07:28 and tackled her to the ground. Her scream dying quickly, as his teeth sank into her esophagus. The focus switched back to the main newsroom. All of the anchors were pale and looked like they were about to be sick. The silence as they watched the screen was heavy. None of them knew what to say. One of the newscasters behind the desk cleared his throat and adjusted his tie as he turned to face the camera. His female co-host fell into tears and ran off screen.
Starting point is 00:07:57 The immediate sound of her vomiting was audible as the other anchors attempted. to regain their composure. I, um, Mark, the chief meteorologist, and the man in charge of the Santa Tracker attempted to speak, to say anything that could calm the situation. We'll be following this developing situation as it happens, please, um, stay tuned. You then motioned for the show to be cut. After a few moments, the screen faded to black,
Starting point is 00:08:27 leaving only the vividly colored overlay of Santa Claus waving, and the words Merry Christmas glowing on the top of the screen. My eyes shot open, reflexively tightened up and looked towards the door. It's 12.01 a.m. Christmas morning. And at any moment the door to the bedroom will burst open and my two beautiful children will run in giggling with presents already in hand. Seconds passed and nothing happened. It took a full minute before I remembered that no one would be coming through the door this year. The kid's accident was only a couple of months ago.
Starting point is 00:09:24 I wake up most mornings, and for the briefest moment every day, I forget they're gone. I find myself lying in bed, listening for their laughter or cries for breakfast to fill the house, before the pain of losing them hits me as fresh as the day it happened. It was a car accident that took them away. I was supposed to pick them up after school, but work ran late. I called my daughter, Samantha, who was 13, 3 years older than her brother Ryan was, and told her they would have to walk home. It was only a couple of blocks, and they had done it plenty of times before.
Starting point is 00:10:05 It wasn't a big deal, except that day it would be. She was only a kid. around the age of 25 and did not see them crossing the street. She was probably texting, eating, or doing one of the hundred other things people do while driving other than paying attention. It didn't matter what she was doing. She hit both of them and they didn't make it. Ryan died right there on the road, while the ambulance tried to bring Samantha to the hospital in time to save her life. They weren't fast enough, and in the span of 20 minutes, my life was destroyed.
Starting point is 00:10:48 Janet, my wife at the time, blamed me. Of course she did. It wouldn't have happened if I had just picked them up as I was supposed to. She made it through the funeral and the burials before leaving, and thinking back on it, I could not blame her. I can't stand the sight of myself either. That's why all the mirrors in the house are shattered, and why the gun I bought last week was already loaded and waiting in the nightstand by the empty bed.
Starting point is 00:11:18 All of these thoughts rushed through my head as I dragged myself out of bed and put my head in my hands. It's the first Christmas I have had to spend alone. The house, dark and empty. Last year at this time, the kids were awake and already opening the one special present they picked out to start Christmas with. The tree would be lit, casting a festive glow in the living room. The smell of cocoa and coffee would be strong in the air, but it was the laughter and joy that would wake me up the most. As a parent, there is nothing better than seeing your kids excited and happy,
Starting point is 00:11:57 and nothing does that more than opening presents on Christmas Day. I closed my eyes. I tried to collect my thoughts, but a sound from the living room grabbed my attention. It sounded like a soft thud of little feet trying to be quiet as they snuck through the house. The sound I have not heard in months. Shuffling off the bed, I made my way towards the sound. Opening the door to the bedroom and looking out into the empty living room, this is where they would be sitting, right under the tree, presents in hand,
Starting point is 00:12:33 waiting for a sign that they could start ripping into their presence. Of course, no one is there now. The room was dark and the fake tree was still in its box, propped up against the wall and unopened. It hurt too much not to try to get ready for Christmas without them, and it hurt too much to try. Looking at the empty living room, I could almost feel them there, sitting, legs crossed, looking towards our room, waiting to see if we were ready. They would each get to open their one present. and then get whatever was in their stockings. Mostly little dollar store trinkets and candy,
Starting point is 00:13:14 but it was still exciting to them, even though they were getting too old for the cheap toys. It was never going to be that way again. This holiday of love and joy for everyone else will be a constant reminder of what I've lost, made worse by the fact that all other families, neighbors, and even strangers are coming together, putting aside their differences and problems to have this one special day together,
Starting point is 00:13:41 and yet here I am alone. The weight of the gun in my hand snaps me back to the cold, dark room that is my life now, reminding me that there is still a way out. I look towards the tree and imagine it like it was last year, blue and silver twine circling bright blue LCD lights. Superhero and Disney character ornaments from theme parks and rest stops, and the kids always had to have them. Decadent glass orbs that were a wedding gift and two angels looking back at me,
Starting point is 00:14:18 smiling and waiting for me to join them. I'm coming, I thought, as I felt the cold metal of the gun barrel against my temple. I pulled the trigger. The sound is louder than anything. I have ever experienced, and I heard it a fraction before the pain hit. So loud, I could not see. The world went black as all my senses faded until all I could experience was the roar between my ears. When the pain finally came, it was almost a relief.
Starting point is 00:14:55 The sound did not stop, but my focus shifted from an earth-shattering, rumbling, to a drill-like sensation that started in my temple and started boring, inward. The combination of the sound and pain dropped me to my knees, the gun slipping from my hand. Reflexively, my hands shot up to the source of the pain and found
Starting point is 00:15:17 nothing. Not a mark at the spot where just seconds ago I shot a bullet. Can we open presents now, Daddy? A voice cut through the pain, and I struggled to open my eyes to find the source. The dark empty room I was in moments ago was transformed when my eyes finally pried open.
Starting point is 00:15:40 The first thing I noticed was everything is bathed in a red, flickering light, the glow coming from the back wall where the unopened Christmas tree box used to sit. Now in its place was a fully decorated tree. Instead of the blue and silver of years past, the tree was now dressed in red tinsle and lights that contained actual flickering flames that gave the appearance of the tree being consumed by fire. Blood-red ornaments seemed to drip the light throughout the tree and reflected the glow around the room.
Starting point is 00:16:13 Sitting on the floor in front of me, presents in hand were my children. Their matching green Christmas pajamas tinged red from the glowing tree, making them look muddy and unclean. Their backs were to me, but from where I was standing, I could see something was not right. Ryan's small arm was bent unnaturally at the elbow, giving it an insect-like appearance, and the hand that rested on his present was twitching uncontrollably.
Starting point is 00:16:44 The fingers, tapping on the wrapping paper of the present at first seemed like he was merely trying to open it, but the more I watched, I could tell it was an involuntary spasm of pain. The floor, under Samantha's crossed legs, was covered in blood. I couldn't tell if it was coming from her or the present, on her lap, maybe both, her head turned towards me. When I could just about see her face, her head flopped back on a clear, broken neck. Empty jet-black eyes looked directly at me. A thin red trail of blood escaped her mouth,
Starting point is 00:17:18 traveling upwards to her face and started to pull in the corner of her right eye. Can we open our presence now, Daddy? She asked again. Her voice deeper than I remembered with none of the joy. or light she had when she was alive. I had to get out of this house. The pain in my head is unbearable and diluting my equilibrium, but I managed to stumble out the front door.
Starting point is 00:17:43 Outside was almost pitch black. All of the lights on the streets and neighboring buildings were off. The only source of light was coming from a full blood moon casting an odd, dark orange hue over everything in sight. A loud, wet-sounding thud caught my attention. down the road and I slowly made my way to the apartment building down the street. The pain, it comes in waves, pressure building up in my skull binding me. It got so bad that I fell to my knees once again.
Starting point is 00:18:15 There wasn't anything around that could help. The street was empty. The businesses and houses along the road were boarded up and looked abandoned. Nothing looked like it did yesterday. Once I was finally able to get moving. I saw a light on in a living room, a couple of houses down on the right where I fell. I walked towards the light and could see a figure standing at the window looking out towards the road in my direction. It was a woman, pale, white skin, wearing a white wedding dress.
Starting point is 00:18:48 As I got close, she raised her hand as if waving to me, and I saw all the marks on her arm. There was a long, four-inch slit starting from where her palm met her wrist down to her mid-four, arm. Blood slowly pumped out in thick rivulets down her arm and onto her white dress, staining it instantly. The pain flared up again, and I stumbled in front of the window. She looked down at me almost understandingly, but before she turned and disappeared into her house. We couldn't help each other, but just as she seemed to understand what I was now going through, I felt I understood her loss as well. It was this day. Christmas Day. For most, it was a reminder of what they had, but for us it was too much of a
Starting point is 00:19:35 reminder of what we had lost. I collected myself for a moment before another loud, wet thud brought me back. I pushed onward, trying to find a way out of this nightmare. The street's Christmas decorations were still up, but the lights were all dead. The usual joyful colors of forest green wreaths and red candy canes looked dull and corroded on the seemingly abandoned buildings. Ripped and half-hazardly hung Tinsel clung in patches to the dark streetlights. Movement above me caught my attention. Hanging from the streetlight, almost hidden by moss-color Tinsel was a slightly overweight man. He appeared to have been dead for some time.
Starting point is 00:20:19 His dark features made even more obscure by the pulling blood in his face, and around the noose he hung by his neck from. His large, fat tongue stuck out between thick swollen lips like a diseased, overgrown worm. He was dressed in a dirty Santa suit that seemed to have a lot of wear and not enough care on it, and I could smell the sweet and vile mixture of alcohol and vomit. Another wave of pain and pressure made me collapse into a ball directly under the man. The unkempt Santa's eyes shot open and looked at me. He began to struggle against the rope, holding him to the streetlight, his legs kicking, rocking himself violently back and forth while grunting for help.
Starting point is 00:21:04 Just another sad soul claimed by this unholy night. All I could do was crawl forward. The pain kept me from getting to my feet. I couldn't help the man. I couldn't help my family, and I couldn't help myself. I hear the thud again, this time right beside me. The sound was a wet smack. of flesh hitting something solid.
Starting point is 00:21:28 I rolled over on my side and tried to get a look at what was making that horrid sound, and found myself staring into the bloodshot eyes of a man in a bloody and ripped up tailored suit. His body was smashed and broken. Blood leaked from his eyes
Starting point is 00:21:43 and mouth into a dark, neatly trimmed jet-plac goatee. It must have fell from the building to my left, some kind of business office. I couldn't tell what company and reading and moving my head too much caused the pain to intensify. As I looked into the man's eyes, his pupils began to shift.
Starting point is 00:22:04 He seemed to be trying to focus on me. His bones seemed to rearrange themselves in his face and jaw, his mouth twisting into a surprised frown. He tries to raise himself up on his hands and knees, but the bones in his forearms were shattered, and jagged cream-tinted shards were breaking through the skin. He shrieked in agony and collapsed back onto his stomach. I could hear a horrible grinding and tearing sound as his body shuddered.
Starting point is 00:22:36 All I could do was watching horror as the bones retreated into his skin, and while screaming he forced his way upright once again. Standing in front of me, I could see that his body was almost completely healed. His left arm still hung lower off of his shoulder socket. He stood on an ankle that was bent sideways at an angle that could only mean the bone was still shattered, but all pain seemed to have left him. Instead, what replaced the agony on his face just moments before was a puzzled bewilderment, and it was as if I was not even there.
Starting point is 00:23:14 He searched the surroundings as if he was looking for something he had just lost. He quickly found what he was looking for and straightened himself out. I could see that he was now standing there with a worn and battered briefcase in his hand. He adjusted what was left of his bloodied Christmas tree tie and walked back into the building I suspected he fell from. If you happened not to see the dark spreading blotches of blood or the rips and tears in his suit, he would look just like any other corporate businessman going to work on Christmas morning. I feel a desperate need to get out of here, no matter what. what it would take. Ignoring the debilitating pain, I stood up and blindly started running,
Starting point is 00:23:58 not caring about the direction that I was heading. The only goal was to escape the awful things I had been witnessing. Nothing was going to slow me down, not the pain, not the nauseating roar in my head and not even the loud, wet thud of a body hitting the pavement again behind me. I did not stop running until my legs could no longer carry me, and out of breath, I stumbled up to an abandoned house. The pain was too intense. I fought the urge to lie down, and using my shoulder, I forced the door to the house open and tripped into the living room.
Starting point is 00:24:34 Living room of the house was dark, and the fake tree was still in its box, propped up against the wall, unopened. It hurt too much to not get ready for Christmas without them, and it hurt too much to try. Looking at the empty living room, I could almost feel them. there, sitting, legs crossed, looking towards our room, waiting to see that we were ready.
Starting point is 00:24:59 They would each get to open their one present, then get whatever was in their stocking. Mostly just little dollar store trinkets and candy, but it was still exciting to them, even though they were getting too old for the cheap toys. It was never going to be that way again. I feel the weight of the gun in my hand. I imagine seeing the kids sitting by the tree, imagine Christmas how it's supposed to be, that best day of the year, the time when you are with your family and loved ones and all the pain is gone. I want their smiling faces to be the last thing I think about, and I put the gun up to my head with tears welling up in my eyes, I pull the trigger. The sound is louder than anything I have ever experienced.
Starting point is 00:25:51 And it came before the pain. Twas the night before Christmas went all through the house. Not a creature was stirring, not even a louse. The traps were all set by the chimney with care in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would step there. The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while nightmares of body parts danced in their heads. And Mama with her hatchet, and I, and with my axe,
Starting point is 00:26:29 had just settled down for a little nightcap. When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter. I sprang from my chair to see what made the splatter. Away from the window, I flew like a flash tore open the shutters and ripped through the sash. Moon on the breast of the blood-stained snow gave a hideous glow to the objects below. When what to my wondering eyes should appear, The watchman was dead with a knife in his ear. There on the lawn knelt a man rather thick.
Starting point is 00:27:06 The blood on his coat told me that he was St. Nick. More rabid than vultures, he sprang to his feet. The zomified Santa was hungry for meat. Where are the children? I want them now. Bring them down to me, you ugly fat cow. On time and impatient, I've come to your home. I hunger for brains, and I'm not alone. As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
Starting point is 00:27:37 a legion of demons flew down from the sky, and up to the housetop this evil took roost, with red beady eyes and long, pointy tooth. And then in a heartbeat I heard on the roof the digging and pawing of each demon hoof, as I drew in my hand and was turning around, down the chimney St. Nicholas came down with a growl. It was all dressed, all the hair of the dead he had skinned, and his clothes were blood-stained from both women and men.
Starting point is 00:28:07 With a bundle of cutlery hung on his back, he grabbed for a knife and began his attack. His eyes, they stared through me, his smile freaking scary. His nose was all wrinkled and old, rotten cherry. His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow. He slashed at my leg. and I fell to the floor. The stump of my limb, he held tight in his teeth, and the blood seeped from it to white tile beneath.
Starting point is 00:28:34 He had a cruel face and some blood in his beard. His expression was empty from my life I now feared. He was ugly and evil, a sick little elf, and I knew things must change for my kids and myself. With my leg now missing, and my wife surely dead, I pushed from the floor and kicked Nick in the head. He spoke not a word. but fell straight on his back, and all the traps sprung just a thunderous snap,
Starting point is 00:29:01 laying there, writhing right where he fell. The bastard passed right through the doorway of hell. The demons then vanished. My children were safe, and I sat there, crying, beginning to faint. But before I passed out, I screamed with all might. Scary Christmas to all, and to all a good fright. So hopefully you all enjoyed this Christmas
Starting point is 00:29:37 collection of terrifying stories, good old horror stories. One poem, one longer story, and then one story written by me that was narrated in my opinion better by TDN horror stories. But I love that story, so I wanted to add it to my own Christmas video. Anyway, if you guys did enjoy this, please do consider hitting that subscribe button,
Starting point is 00:29:55 the icon next to it. I welcome you with open arms. And I love all my subscribers, and even the people that don't subscribe, it's fine. I still love you guys. You can also follow me on social media. You can also support the channel, Patreon and coffee memberships, your decision, all optional, all appreciated. That said, my friends, I hope you have a beautiful day. I hope you have a Merry Christmas, and I hope you have a happy holidays, whatever holiday it is you celebrate.
Starting point is 00:30:19 I hope that your time is filled with joy, warmth, laughter, celebration. I know 2020's been a rough and confusing year, but you know what? It's almost over. We just got to move on, keep going, don't give up. You know how it goes. All right. I'll see you in the next video, but until then, sleep well.

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