As The Raven Dreams Podcast - Lingering By Ray Beaman - Creepypasta Narration

Episode Date: November 21, 2021

I exist, and nothing more. Sometimes I'm not even sure why I do that...  ➤ Want your story featured? Go to https://www.astheravendreams.com/Submit ➤ Want to know where to follow me on the internet? Go to https://www.astheravendreams.com/the-nevermore for all my links! ➤ You can also get EARLY ACCESS By joining my Patreon! https://patreon.com/astheravendreams Today's story is by the Always amazing RAYMOND BEAMAN! ➤ All stories within are used w/ Either direct permission from the author- or under some level of CC license (where noted) True Stories are not verified, and should all be considered 'supposedly true'.  And Remember; You are loved, you are important, and you are valid. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. --- 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

Welcome to aboard of Viarai. Embarked and profite. Embarked and relax. Cirotay. Bookiné. Oh, that also. And profite. Villaray, the voice that we love that we love.

Today's story is lingering by Raymond Beeman. Five years. I have not slept for five years. not ever, not once, not at all. Never within these five long, terrifying, and arduous years. I have not seen a single moment of relief, a single minute of escape, or a single god-forsaken second of anything but this room,

this room, this prison, all of it. These walls, the filth, the whole, horror and the decay, the smell, the rot, the death, and the cloud of nothing. The air hangs unbreatable within the space, but I still persist. I live. I do not die. I do not pass. I do not wander.

I just exist. And to top it all off, I never sleep. I mean, even if I could. How could I? Even if my body allowed me to, even if my mind would clear for just a second, even if it could just wash itself mercifully clean of my plight, how could I sleep with all of the noise? I've been stuck here within this room for longer than I can even remember.

I awoke one day here in this space. There is a bed, it is comfortable, and the room is warm to a pleasant degree, and on the surface of things, there's nothing odd concerning my surroundings, but once you begin to dig a little deeper, you realize that it is all nothing but a charade. On my first night, I awoke, clearly and confused by the unfamiliarity of my surroundings. Immediately, I tried the door, locked. Then I tried the windows, locked. And when the windows failed, I frantically began clawing at the walls. And that is when the masterpiece fell from the surfaces and chunks, stuck beneath my nails,

flakes of a prison personified. I scratched, I clawed, I pleaded, and I beseed. but all that I got from my muster was nothing but the drywall reduced to a fine powder, which stained the hands as it sullied the resolve. There is no escape. A week passed and nothing, a month passed and nothing, a year passed and still nothing. I did not eat, I did not sleep, I did not dream, and I did not stop, and all around of me, the eternity of my prison smiled.

It grew from the walls and reverberated back. The vibrations of its presence seemly and horrid. It lingered, it persisted, and with each passing second, with each little fleeting moment which burned into eternity, it breathed anew. Nothing changed, nothing altered, and all that I could do was exist. Exist.

And wait. So I waited. The world around of me continued to move. Time continued to pass, even though the notion was lost to the endless ether, and my life continued to pass. A clock ticked, even though my abode did not contain the luxury of one, and again another year passed. I slowly began to question reality. When the mind is left to its own devices, when you are alone with nothing but your own thoughts,

your own voice, nothing but that little sound within the space inside of your skull, your mind, it begins to wander. Your mind begins to question. begins to question itself, and your mind begins to question you. It asks things of you that you never thought possible. It awards you with the thoughts that you would never dare to think, and it reminds you every single second of the pure torment that one day you simply opened your eyes, too. The human mind is a powerful thing.

But without a distraction, without a purpose, the human mind, well, it will eat you alive. I tried to ignore it. I tried to ignore me, but within the space of forever, the voice was almost deafening. You will burn into nothing. I gave up. For the next year, I lay stationary within the bed. For a year, all that I saw was the small, square tiles upon the ceiling. For a year, I would count them, from left to right.

My eyes would move and my brain would keep track as the tally accumulated. And when I had reached the end, 74. I would simply begin to count again. I counted, and I counted, and I counted some more. 1 to 6, 6 to 10, and 10 to 40, 40 to 46, and 60 to 74, over and over, around and around anything to ignore the tumor of me which was growing from within. Anything, to ignore the only voice from within the void of nothing.

The voice which was screaming constantly, without pause and without restraint. That voice of me. There is no escape. One year moved to two, and two turned to five, and yet I, still lingered. I had been within this room for five years. I had not slept for five years. These same walls, the never-ending view of black from the windows,

the horrid and chalky mess of the boundaries of my world, all of it. It had been mine for five years, and it was then at the half-point of the decade when the metaphorical clock could tick no longer that the noise started. They appeared at the windows, a startling contrast of color to the darkness

I had grown accustomed to. Their faces were fixed in a terror, and their mouths were permanently open. Their jaws hanging unnaturally wide as they stood just beyond the glass. I did not see them at first. I did not divert my gaze from the tiles above or break the count for even a second, not until they began to bang violently against the frames with their fists.

My heart strained as the sight washed against me. People? Their eyes were beams, saucers of light, which reflected the terrible gaze into my room, illuminating my shame whilst revealing my predicament with an unbreakable glow which was almost blinding.

Their mouths remained locked in a silent, terrible scream as they continued to beat their fist against the eternal glass housed within the eternal frames. A nasty red smeared against the surface as their digits exploded a horrid blood across the translucent pains.

The room was spinning. My mind was spinning. I could feel my mouth open. I could feel my mind racing. I could feel every never-ending second of dread moving nastily through my core, its icy grip burning cold against the fragments of my soul concealed within. I could feel it all, and I could feel nothing. I just watched.

I just waited. I was paralyzed, and I just lingered. And then she spoke. What a night for a nightmare. Her words were not quite clear. She was talking through an injury. The sound of another voice, one originating from outside of my head,

took me by surprise. I quickly turned, the room feeling unsteady as my eyes struggled to comprehend the intrusion. I would have lost it by now. She was trying to speak, but the stream of blood pouring from her eyes was collecting upon her lips. Her words causing almost solid chunks of liquid to fly gracefully from her mouth as she continued to talk. Is it not about time that you were ash?

Almost immediately the incessant banging relented. I briefly turned back to the windows, expecting to see the specters continuing their tirade, but apparently they were gone. Her words bubbled through blood as she beckoned my attention. Do you really want to stay for another five years? I turned back to her the second viewing truly necessary in order to really appreciate the turn of events. She sat on my bed, legs crossed, smile crooked,

She watched on as I surveyed her and attempted to wink at me, but her actions caused only further fluid to pour unrelentingly from the bubbling mess of orifices on her face. Gently she moved a hand and tapped the mattress beside her, welcoming me back on to the surface I had grown so accustomed to. Without thinking, I obliged and took the seat next to her. Darling, she began. wrapping her wounded and broken arm across my shoulder.

You really do need to learn how to relax. I mean, after all, if you knew how to take a breather, you know, a little time, maybe we wouldn't be having this conversation now, would we? Maybe if you knew how to really, how do you say, unplug? Then maybe you would be able to wake up? your pretty little head up. Too much sleep can really leave a mark. This doesn't make sense.

Wake up. Her smile seemed to fall down her cheeks as the words left my lips. I've been awake for five years. I have not slept five years. She nodded slightly as my words sank in. Whatever you say, sweetie, who am I to question? You clearly can see things clearer than I. My heart began to force its way against my chest as a horrible anger took hold.

You're not real, I began. You were just me. You are just all of my thoughts that I've been left with, left alone with. You are just my mind. You are just my broken and diseased mind. You cannot offer me anything but further torment. I've been here for five years, so I know the score. There is no escape, so please leave me to my suffering.

There is no merit in false hopes. She laughed slightly, and her eyes leaked further. Okay, darling, whatever you say. You may want to check that little space at some point, though. Slowly, she removed her arm from my shoulder, shifting her broken limb from my body as she pointed towards the far wall across from my bed.

My eyes followed the direction, barely registering the sharp white bone protruding from the soft flesh of her skin as the sight of the gaping hole came into focus. I think there may be something that way. It was not there before, but now it was. The hole was crumbling from the wall. A dark space of a circle unseemly within the surface,

materialized from nowhere and created from nothing. The circumference was small, but almost perfectly sized for my frame. From an initial look, I could probably just about get through the gap, but the squeeze would be claustrophobic. The fear was there in an instant. It was not born from the tightness of the journey or from the proximity of the crawl. It was not even born from the torment of the past five years, or the banging against my prison from those outside.

It was not even a product of the young woman who bled from her face next to me. No, it was born from the realization that something terrible awaited me through that hole. Somehow, I just knew. It was there and it was indescribable. A feeling and a thought, a realization created from air, a memory, a truth. It called to me from the dark, gaping crevice within the wall, and it demanded that I made the crawl.

I could hear it. I could feel it. There is no escape. My mouth was already moving as I forced my gaze from the opening. No, I can't. I won't. Slowly she retracted her arm and then brought it to her chin, resting her weight against the limb as the bone further cut forward from her flesh. Please, come back to us.

No, don't listen. I shook my head, trying with all my strength to discard her words from my thoughts. Okay, you go back to counting then. My head rested softly against the pillow as the tiles above me came into focus. 24, 45, 74, and she was gone. Although, if truth were to be told, she may have still physically been there. It did not matter, though. I was paralyzed.

I was stuck. I was trapped. Unable to talk. Unable to call for help. I was locked in, and I was captured, and all that I could do was count. Those tiles once again welcomed me. 22, 45, 74. And the counting continued,

and could have continued for days. Could have continued for weeks or even years. At this point, I no longer kept count. The numbers had long since become a comfort. The years, a forgotten burden. Time, love, life, and thought. Ideas, aspirations, wishes, and hopes. All of them just words from a time that did not exist.

From a life that I never lived. Dreams, days, mornings and evenings. Those lazy weekends. A kiss from a lover or a hug from my mother. None of it existed or ever existed. My world was above and I simply continued on. 22, 45, 74. Until suddenly, I did not.

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50 tours gratu, on the machine-assoubeck-baz-Bonanza. Depos minimum of $10. Veye to be in a fashion responsible. The conditions apply. It was there. Strong and loud, continuous and demanding the banging at the windows. It broke my concentration, and in one violent and cracking sound brought me back into the prison that I had never escaped from.

bang this has to stop bang i cannot continue bang the middle is only an illusion bang i am either one or the other bang slowly i rose from the mattress and again they were there their eyes reflected the horrid brightness once more piercing the room in an unnatural horrible glow their hands now contained little flesh as their bones continued the tirade thumping hard against the glass, welcoming my attention, demanding it. Carefully, I moved to the window and placed my palm against the cold, soft pain. Bang! The vibration moved slowly through my arm. Bang, the feeling moved violently against my frame. Bang, how beautiful it is to once again feel. casually from the corner of the room she called to me once more. So, what do you say, darling?

Slowly I turned my arms dropping to my side. There she was. She was standing near the hole in the wall, but this time her injuries had grown nastily against her form. Her flesh was almost non-existent. A mess of her fabric caught against the decay of her body, which meshed in chunks against the bones which carried her weight. Her face was almost a skull. Her bloodied tears now stained against the bones of her sockets.

She spoke again even though she no longer had a tongue. I guess it is time to wake up. She's right. As the terrible smashing continued behind of me, I knew that she was right. whatever awaited me within the dark cavern of the hole, whatever revelation beckoned me into its terrible domain. I knew that this had to stop.

One way or another, I could not continue. The end had to come before it came for me, and I knew that as much as I did not want to venture outside, it was unfortunately the only choice that I could make. I smiled slightly as I crouched near the hole. After five years, at least I have a choice. The remains of her jaw moved as she tried to smile. See you on the other side, darling.

See you on the other side. I forced my head down and pushed my body inside, squeezing the entirety of my small frame into the smaller gap. My chest strained, and my mind buzzed, but I clawed my way further inside. The room, becoming a distant memory behind me as I frantically pulled myself through the tiny gap within my world. I pushed, I pulled. I cut. And I gouged.

And as I tore deeper within, a noticeable lack of fear washed warmly against me. For once, in half a decade, I was no longer lingering. With each clump of dirt, with each hand against mud, and with each cracked nail, my world slowly came back into focus. I was so tired. It had been a long weekend, but I had to work. The bills were mounting, and the rent had to be paid at the end of the week. I had just come off of a double shift, but I had volunteered for another.

After all, I needed the money, and I could not turn down the extra work. I tried to brush away the fatigue as I climbed normally into the cabin of the bus. My route would at least be interesting. at this time of night, it would be a splendor. The city at night, it's picturesque. The lights, the sounds,

and the people who rode my bus were always different at this time. A mess of characters brought together by the world of the night. Comrades in arms, friends for only but a moment. They were strangers in the dark, but brothers and sisters

in the light of my ride. I would take them home. I would get them home, and hopefully I would see my home again fairly soon. I'm so tired. Before long, there was one, and then there were two, and eventually I had around five passengers. I closed the door and pulled out from the stop as the last passenger thanked me, as she passed.

Forever in your debt, darling. I didn't hear her. The heat of my cabin and the glow of the lights from beyond had already blanketed me in their sweet embrace. My mind was already too fatigued from the work, and it had already moved from the wheel within my hand. My mind, it was warm, it was soft, and it was so caring. It cradled me as the bus moved to the left,

cutting dangerously through the traffic, and moving across multiple lanes. It reassured me of the motion. It quietened my panic, and it welcomed me into the abyss as my vehicle continued unaided. It calmed the senses, and it tried its best to welcome me to sleep. And it almost succeeded,

if it were not for the banging against the glass. My eyes shot open as the world moved in slow motion. The light in front, was upon me. An oncoming vehicle. A lorry. Just something. An eternity moved as my eyes glanced upwards.

Toward my rearview mirror as the fear within the passenger's eyes came into focus. Their last moments were captured perfectly. Cemented forever by the glare of the oncoming vehicle as it settled nicely across their eyes. Wake up. Beeping. There was... beeping all around of me. I couldn't see anything.

Apart from the ceiling above. Please, just wake up. You have to wake up. The beeping continued as I tried to move my head, but my resolve had abandoned me. Now is the time to wake up. You have to wake up now. I tried to move my lips. I tried to formulate words, a sentence, a scream, but nothing came.

Her eyes are open, doctor. Her eyes are open. The beeping seemed louder as I heard the doctor answer. Sir, your wife has been opening her eyes periodically for the past five years now. I assure you, it's not a sign of significant activity, and it is to be expected. In my opinion, the choice we're making now is still the correct one. The machines continued to hum around of me, as I could do nothing but listen. Please, just do something.

The feeling of a tear moving down my face, despite the fact that I was not crying. Honey, I'm so sorry. I willed my arms to move. I willed my mouth to speak. I fought with all of my energy and with all of my hopes, with all of my dreams, but not even a finger would move. I heard the doctor move into my husband as he attempted to reassure him. It's time.

My heart began to beat harder within my chest as I felt the doctor closed the distance towards me. My mind burned and the beeping of the machines grew louder against my senses as my eyes moved rapidly within my head. Beep. My eyes settled on the tiles above me. Beep. Slowly, I began to count. A beep.

I heard the doctor push at the buttons. Beep, 22, 45, 74. I heard a wail escape from my husband as the tone of the machine slowed. And then paused. 22. 40, 5, 70, 4. So that was, once again, lingering by Mr. Ray Beeman,

always, always a treat working with this man. He never disappoints. His stories are always so spot on with the horror that they contain. And, of course, this one was no different. This story was terrifying. Absolutely bone-chilling premise that this man wrote for this story, and I loved it. Hopefully, you all enjoyed my narration of this story.

If you did, please consider hitting that thumbs up button and subscribing if you're new to the channel. Leave a comment, letting Ray know what your thoughts were on this story, because this man, again, phenomenal. Always phenomenal. I work with some amazing authors, and Raymond is one of the best. I love this guy, so thank you again, Ray, for letting me narrate this story and the other stories, and the story is still to come. So thank you again.

Yeah. Check Ray's links down in the description below. I don't really know what to say. The story kind of just said everything for me. So if you want more, subscribe. I already said that. Beyond that, there's a playlist for Ray's stuff. Check that out too.

And I guess until I see you on the next video, you know, sleep well.