As The Raven Dreams Podcast - "Winter Kingdom Part 2" By Aakash Sharma

Episode Date: November 23, 2020

A Wintry landscape, cold and covered in the frozen snow. Upon the ground there lie bits of flesh, trails of blood... This world is like our, yet so different.  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! ➠ youtube.com/c/astheravendreams Check out my Website!  ➠ 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 ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬  【Credits & Times】 0:00  ➠  "Winter Kingdom 2" By Aakash Sharma   ➠  https://www.reddit.com/r/TheRavensDream/comments/jhyqnp/winter_kingdom_ii/ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬  【Disclaimer】 All stories used with permission, or under some level of Creative Commons License. Some stock footage from https://freestockfootagearchive.com. If music is not credited above, it is either free to use or original. The Music on ALL Raven Investigates videos is a modified version of  "Falling Rain" By Myuu.  Thank you to EVERYONE that watches my videos, and thank you to all my  subscribers. Have a nice day, much love, and Sleep well. --Raven.  ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬ ✯ ✬  Be sure to *subscribe* if you like any of the following; Glitch In The Matrix Stories - Cryptid Encounter Stories - Creepy Encounter Stories - Let's Not Meet Stories - Reddit Ghost Stories - Scary Horror Stories - Creepypasta - Reddit Paranormal Stories - Missing 411 Stories - Backwoods Horror Stories - Horror Stories - True Scary Stories --- 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

It's never too early to plan your summer story in Europe with WestJet, from rolling countryside to cobblestone streets. Begin your next chapter. Book your seat at westjet.com or call your travel agent. WestJet, where your story takes off. Biennue at board of VIAE. Embarked and profite. Embarked and relax. Ciroat.

Bookine. Oh, that also. And profite. Via Rai, the voice that we love that we love. Today's story is Winter Kingdom Part 2 by Akash Sharma. The winds of winter made their way through the ruthless winter land, burying the world in thick cloaks of snow. The white landscape stretched eternally, as did its vast emptiness. A deep red spot stood out, and as I went further, my presence being marked by the footprints left in the snow,

I saw more bits and pieces, chunks of flesh and splashes of blood, and before I knew it, I was at the center of it all. Ahead on this tail of flesh and blood, my mother stood at a distance, naked as the day she was born and yet I felt no feeling about that ill sight. I felt nothing at all. Her skin was pruned, and her body seemed slightly bloated. Her hair was damp, clinging to her head and neck. The hissing cold had not moved her.

Unintelligible sounds of a radio or a television were right behind my ears. And even though I didn't look around, I somehow knew that I wouldn't find anything. It was coming from me. I was the source. My mother tried to speak as an endless fall of water. gushed through her mouth, making her words sound gargled and forcing her to keep whatever she was trying to tell me brief. My eyes opened to a dark room, lit only by a tint of blue, pulling me back to reality.

I reached across my bed to the bedside table for a glass of water. I was strangely calm, and I stopped counting after the seventh time I had this exact same dream, There was no pattern to them, no specific day or occasion that I saw it. It was so spontaneous. I had no time to prepare myself for seeing it, and after such a long time, I'd just gotten used to it. Yet, despite the many times I saw this particular dream, I had never been aware of it as a dream in my sleep. It felt real, even though I had every little detail memorized. I tried to write it down to try and look for any special meaning behind it, yet I was only left with a page describing my inability to move on from the death of my mother 11 years ago.

I checked my phone for the time. 4 a.m. still a long way before my day started. I stared at the ceiling. A million shadows borne from the blue lamp looked back down at me. Strangely, they never looked as sinister anymore, as they did all those years ago. If anything, their distance from me must be because they had feared me, too. I had a couple of hours to kill before I got out of bed. And tonight, since the dream had decided to wake me up early, while it was still dark outside,

I had nothing to do but think such thoughts that would usually dictate my mood for the day. I wondered if there was an afterlife. And if there was one, I was pretty sure that my mother would have been in the good place. Well, unless it was a suicide, as it was suggested for a while. And if so, was this kind and sweet woman burning in the basements for one final slip-up? And if so, do I have to be sinful to get to see her again? they say that when a person is depressed they perceive time to go slower and even though i cannot say i was depressed i certainly was not happy but time went faster for me i felt like i was back in bed the instant i stepped out of it i dreaded coming back home and especially to bed even though this was not the same house it all happened and my father had us all move out of it

the house after a failed lawsuit against the funeral home for a cruel prank. However, there was no proof found that the body was toyed with before the mortician had done his work, and when eyebrows began to be raised at my own family, Dad decided to let it go. I checked the clock again, and it was almost time for work. Like I said, time went by fairly quickly. I turned the lamp off, pressing my thumb on the light switch, and then, as was a daily ritual now, I thought to myself, let there be light, and there was light. The sunlight couldn't make it into the room since I had taped the windows in my room shut.

Even the idea of accidentally looking into one of them still made me anxious. I didn't buy the local newspaper anymore. This wasn't an interesting town with interesting things happening. This place didn't even have an interesting history for fuck's sake. The local news was my only source of information. And her parents now stand in front of the local police station with signboards, as you can see, demanding a more serious investigation. On my way to school, I drove by another wave of missing person posters put up by desperate relatives. Elizabeth Grimes, 14, the second person to go missing in the last three months.

She attended the school that I worked at, and yet I somehow never knew her until she had a picture of her stapled to every wall, pole, tree, and even the news wouldn't talk about anything else. She was the only thing everyone seemed interested in talking about, and yet the town still didn't manage to come up with a single fucking clue about what happened to her. One day, she was there. The next day, it was as if she had never existed. Marcus Piper, 19. No one really cared about his disappearance much,

until his successor, Elizabeth, made the news. This one I knew very well. Piper was trouble, and I had even heard that he was involved in some sketchy stuff. He didn't attend school anymore, opting to drop out and somehow manage with whatever he was involved in, but that was until he disappeared. No compassionate words were supposed to.

said about him. There was a talk of him being involved with the wrong people, but it died out pretty quickly. But the thing about these two was, even though there was no reason to believe that their disappearances were related, no one had a clue about what happened. Like I said about Elizabeth, she was there until she wasn't. It was as if she never existed. And now there seems to be nothing in existence, nothing to suggest where they are if they are alive, and what happened to them. And that led me to wonder what my disappearance would change. Dangerous ideas. Best not to dwell on things like this.

Morning, Mr. Vale, Mathis said. The bus driver always had the gentlest and kindest of smiles, something that I secretly looked forward to seeing every day. Mr. Ray, I replied. I noticed his black, somewhat warm jacket. Winter's on its way. I see that you're ready for that already. The older man laughed.

You're very observant. That's why they made you a teacher. I smiled back, nodding, going into the school building to start my day. The class was so unenthusiastic and distracted the entire time that I scribbled numbers and explained operations to them. I felt like I might as well be teaching a graveyard, yet I knew yelling at them or even calling one of them out to give them a jolt they needed would only make them resent coming to class. Though I haven't been in prison, I'm pretty sure word gets around in schools much faster, and eventually they would just hate the subject as much as me. And eventually, I'd had enough of the grave. tired looks on everyone's faces.

I went to my desk and slanted back to face the class. All right, well, I think that's plenty for today. I can't carry on with you guys looking like statues. I hadn't been with this batch for long, and I'm pretty sure most of them heard mixed things about me. If anyone has any questions, feel free to come up. And if you don't, just don't make a lot of noise. My time as a teacher had made me more observant when it came to people.

The kids usually divided themselves into groups, and you could usually tell who belonged to which group based on where they sat. In the evening, instead of going home, I decided to spend the last day before the weekend elsewhere. My sister answered the door. Boy, she's almost as tall as me now, I thought. Her new dog, a rather large German shepherd, was by her. her side, wagging its tail and jumping at the smell of fresh food. Relieving me of the two large

pizzas I carried, she led the way in, her dog following closely. I still hadn't gotten used to this place. The air of familiarity a home brings, this place certainly lacked. But then again, maybe it was so because I wasn't living here with them, yet seeing my family here made me feel otherwise. I ruffled her hair while she sat on the couch in front of a movie, a large slice in her hand. She slapped it away, said a few words with her mouthful, and I picked a box and went past her to the dining room. Dad sat at the head of the table. His eyes were focused through his glasses on a book placed on the table. We all found different ways to fill the emptiness after Mom passed.

For my sister, it was her obsession with movies, and for my dad, it was his books. As for me, well, the dreams I had certainly filled that void. The author certainly has no clue how to write a good villain,

my father said. Placing the box next to him, I took a seat. Well, hello, Dad. Well, he certainly had lived a comfortable life, the author. A person must really feel pain if he wants to write something menacing.

He finally looked up at me, pushing his glasses away. "'Dan, how's the school?' "'It's a mess, you know, since the girl went missing.' He nodded, still scanning me with his eyes. He did that often when he wanted to know more. "'Well, everyone's been so grim and everything is so gloomy. "'It's not really somewhere I could teach, I think.

"'So you're going to quit? "'Hm?' "'No, I'm not going to quit. "'You didn't let me finish. "'Let me tell you something, son. "'You still board up your window, I don't lie to me boy I'll know trust me I didn't have to tell him anything he sighed shaking his head we've all been through a hard time I know that I was in a dark place for a long time after

after that happened but it can't stay like this forever are you still afraid of cats Dan well dad it's Friday why don't my dad looked at me with those cold eyes of his. I felt a chill build up inside of me. He opened his mouth to say something, and then he thought over it before he changed his mind. I don't even know why I'd bother to come,

I said, shifting my chair ready to leave. It's a wonder Ellen managed with you for so long. I clenched my fists. I felt bolder with everything I said. Ever since mom died, you've made damn sure that I'm reminded of her absence in this house, because you're

so cold and bloody distant all the time. I finished. My anger cooling down and my senses coming back. My father never said a word. Instead, he stared at me from the top of his glasses. I dreaded this. His silence was far more threatening than his anger ever had been. His face remained stoic and stern,

as if he was carved right out of stone. Your mother, he said, never should have died. I breathed out, feeling a sudden heaviness in my chest, knowing exactly what he was talking about. I heard the splashing of the water all over again, and all of a sudden, I was the same 18-year-old kid standing in an empty, dark hallway, armed with only a light,

and faced by a demon in the form of a naked old woman. I, my dad said, his eyes now down, sinking low under a weight of either guilt or regret. I'm sorry, Dan, I know you must have been, but the damage had been done. I stormed out of the room, passing along my sister who rubbed her fingers with tissues, her head following my path. I sat in my car, leaning forward and gripping the wheel. My teeth gritted against her. themselves and I felt the urge to scream rising up in my throat. A deep inhale later, I managed to

bury it. No tears came. I had shed enough for that night and probably for years to come as well. I was just angry. But I couldn't really tell at whom. My dad? Myself? It wasn't my dad who killed her and it certainly wasn't me. But there was someone else who did it. But there was someone. Someone I saw do it. Something that wasn't bound by the laws of this world. Something my dad and sister never knew killed my mother. And if I was angry at her, what could I even do about it?

I looked straight ahead. Shadows and shapes danced in the moonlight. Perhaps there was a cat somewhere or worse, but everywhere I looked I saw the old lady. shape, hiding just in the right spot so as to torment my sanity. Fuck you, I muttered, trying to muster up courage. I felt tense, almost as if I was waiting on an answer. I wouldn't turn on the lights, my hands anxiously tapped on the dashboard, awaiting

to put the shadows in the car away, and yet I waited. If I don't turn these lights on now, I wouldn't. I thought to myself. But when what? My mother back? The passenger side door opened suddenly and I jumped, feeling spikes of ice reach up and pierce through my chest. Relax, it's just me, Braveheart, Ellen said. Ellen, I thought you could use some company, she said.

And there's some pizza left, she said, opening the box to me, which I turned away. Dan, she placed a hand on my shoulder. Look, you have to talk about it. A brief image of the night flashed in my mind once more. Please, just let it go. I can talk about it with you. It helps. Trust me, Dan, please.

She said softly, trying to get me to open up. I sighed, preparing myself mentally to release a ghost I had locked in a silver box for years. Was there ever anything strange about the house? I asked her. Well, strange how? Like, um, haunted? Haunted, she asked, trying to act sympathetic, but I could sense the hint of unease in her voice.

Never mind. No, please, whatever it is, just tell me. I won't, I won't tell anyone. The night, Mom was killed, died, you mean? No, killed. I mean killed.

I watched it happen, I said, now feeling lumps forming in my stomach. I felt like the more I would talk about it, the more I shrunk. I don't know what to say. Well, if you just stop, I can't.

No, we'll just say, Ellen. I will understand. I saw a fucking ghost, I yelled, frightening my little sister, who crawled back into the seat as if curling up into a tiny bundle. I, I said more softly. I saw a ghost, Ellen. I saw it with my own eyes. It went right through the bathroom door.

It was getting harder to speak. My throat was constricting on itself. Mom was in there. I think she was... The haunting tune of the song, my mother hummed that night came into my mind. And for a moment, I was sure I could actually hear it whispered right into my ear.

I looked back slowly, so as to not startle my sister. The poor girl was probably scared enough as it is. Mom was humming this... Some old song or something, I said, now looking right ahead. Her gaze felt a lot harder to face right now. I felt like her eyes were the lights of judgment, and I, a horrible sinner who had run out of lies.

I saw this thing. I'd seen it before or two once, but that night, it looked at me. I was debating whether to describe it to her or to keep it vague. It looked like an old woman. It went into the bathroom and I immediately heard Mom struggling. I felt warmth run down my cheek as a tear began to make its way. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't even fucking move.

We sat in silence for a while. Mom knows I could have saved her. I think she does. I see her in my dreams sometimes. I turned to her. face her. Her eyebrows sunk low as if I'd been telling her that dad had passed as well.

Not that it would have been so bad anyway. Oh, fuck. I immediately cursed myself for that thought. Well, you remember that story she told us? The story about the skeletons and, yeah.

In my dreams, she's in that place. Or at least what I imagined it to be like. She haunts me in my dreams, Ellen. She tells me things, choking with water. The exact same sounds I heard when she died. Ellen didn't say a word.

She looked down, breathing deeply as if trying to fully comprehend the nightmare I had unloaded. Well, could it have been your imagination? No, I'm sure of that. That was the first time I'd admitted it. Sometimes, that night. When she visits me in my dreams, I don't know what she's trying to tell me. I don't know what could be worse. Her blaming me for letting her die like a coward, or the fact that no matter what I do,

I can't give her justice. How do you kill something that's already dead? I said in a low voice, almost a whisper. She stared ahead, frowning. I couldn't tell if she was holding back tears, and if she was. She was doing a pretty good job of it. Without a word, she let herself out, and softly shut the door, walking around to the front of my car and then to my side, tapping softly on the window. I lowered it and she leaned in, using both of her hands to hold my head while she planted a kiss on my cheek.

Good night, she said, walking through the dark and reaching the well-lit porch of my dad's house. She turned to look at me one last time, but I'd already started on my way. The thoughts of the night haunted me the entire way home. Unlike a swarm of lost wraiths, they swam around me, testing my will and toying with my sanity. The old woman's hideous face came back to me as well. I tried to blink away the thoughts, and yet they wouldn't go away. They were persistent. My car came to a stop at the light.

Straight was the way back home. And in the stillness of the night and the loneliness of the road, my personal ghosts clasped their hands together and danced in a circle around me. Every hair on my body stood up and a shiver ran down my spine. I thought, at a point, I heard the whisper of my mother's voice. I turned to the back seat, expecting nothing and finding nothing.

Yet, I felt something. As if I wasn't alone anymore, well, apart from the swarm of wraiths of my own making, there was a presence far more powerful. And there was some presence in the back seat. seat, something that had been there when I wasn't looking. Just as my sister's presence slowly faded from the passenger seat, I felt another, fresher, something lurking in the back. I abruptly turned my car left on the fortunately idle road and road left.

There was no way in hell. These things were going home with me. I knew that the left turn wasn't an accident. The spirits hurried behind me following my path, unaware of the place that I was taking them. Or maybe they were aware, and that's what had got them so excited. I felt more shivers run down my back. I breathed out a tiny mist. The car got colder as I got close.

No one would be here at this hour. Perfect. Yet it was also probably the most horrifying thing. I had decided to do. The house wasn't sold. No one bought it after the news of my mother's death spread, and especially after the horror at the funeral. Come on, let's take you back home.

I stepped through the door, which barely posed any resistance anymore, and into the darkness of my own place of torment, ready to face my own personal hell, and the demon that lived in it. The flashlight of my phone was my guide through the darkness. Now that I was in here, I felt a complete and absolute silence and loneliness. I told myself that I was the house itself.

I was everything in the house from attic to basement. I was devoid of any residence, save for rats, bugs, and terrible graffiti on. the wall, poorly drawn swastikas in the number 666 making more appearances than any other, how original. The stairs creaked as I went up, and then, before I could take the final step, I paused. That, Warner. Now, the thousand arms of fear held me in an ugly embrace, the feeling I had brought to dump here were all frightened by whatever awaited me in that damn corner.

Something awful was there, and right ahead of it was the bathroom. The darkness was alive in there. I could smell how awful it was, crawling and feasting on the remains of the light and whatever poor critter had been unfortunate enough to take refuge in there. It was strange. I almost felt like I could hear a thousand legs or something in there, and the buzz it made as it feasted. I backed away slowly, almost losing my footing on the stairs and falling off.

Fuck this. Fuck all this. I bolted down the stairs. I felt an enormous pair of jaws open behind me, hissing as the dark tried to claim me as well. But I stumbled out of the house. house and time, spotting my car right ahead of me. My heart was beating faster than ever. My chest could only take so much before it broke through. It hammered and banged, and I felt the pain of true fear, a pain I hadn't experienced in a while as I made my way to my car, crashing

into someone and almost falling face first onto the ground. The woman fell, and I, in a panic, halted for a moment, as my mind tried to make sense of this chaos. I went on my way, turning back one last time to see the woman. It was Miss Samson, a woman who had been our neighbor all those years back, as well as a PTA member of school. She got a good look at my face, too, but as I tried to say something, I felt like my lips were stitched together, unable to part for a single word. I tried to start the car, yet it wouldn't work. I tried again and again, but it wouldn't budge. I ran away, probably confusing Miss Samson dearly,

and yet even though I felt her piercing gaze on me, I ran, and I ran, and I ran. I knew a place in this neighborhood. Somewhere I could feel safe for a while. Somewhere I wouldn't be alone. I pounded like crazy on the door of the house in the far corner of the street, where a recluse lived. Panting like a dog and sweat, staining my entire shirt, I probably wasn't the best sight at this hour. Have you been running from the police? Aunt Greta asked.

I walked in and tossed my shoes aside, making my place on the couch, ensuring to face away from that treacherous window that started all of this. How's your dad and your sister? God, you look terrified. You had another one of those, um, episodes again. Water, I managed between heavy breaths. And suddenly, I didn't feel her existence in the room with me anymore either. My legs and knees couldn't take all that running, and now they were making it known by throbbing wildly.

Aunt Greta handed me a cold. glass of water, moisture spreading like moss around the glass, and as I drank, I thought I would pass out from holding my breath for so long. Are you okay? She asked. I'm tired. Well, you can stay the night, but I have to work early. I nodded in understanding, though I doubted if she worked out of the house at all.

I assured her that the couch would do well, and with that, She left me to my peace, going indoors into her room and to be alone again. I was alone with the lights on, and I knew that sleep would not come to me easy that night. I shook my body a bit, feeling uneasy at the thought of crawling legs. I unwillingly imagined all of those tingling feet on me, slowly devouring me up to. I dimmed the lights and turned the television on in her life. living room, placed the same way it had ever been. She wasn't one for renovation. In fact, I really don't know what she did with most of her time. At mom's funeral, she had come up at the very

end when the horrifying discovery had already been made. She didn't seem one for comforting, but she sat with my sister's head in her arms as she cried, while her brother, my dad, had an outburst. Most late-night television was boring as hell, so I sat there, aimlessly changing the channels, with the volume low to the point of unintelligibility, so as to not disturb my aunt. I curled up on the couch, hoping that sleep would take me unaware

and I would wake to light and a day less gloomy. And then, when the television failed to grab my attention, A thought came to my mind. This is the place where two of my greatest fears had been conceived. I could still do what I had intended to do when I drove to the house, and here I was in a safe place. I wasn't in complete darkness, and so I truly had nothing much to fear, did I? Just a look.

a look and I can pat myself on the back. With trembling hands and my eyes shut tight, I raised myself in the direction of it. The sounds of the television were still in my ears, almost like words of encouragement. I took one step to it and then another. I knew that this was to end in one of two ways. I back away like a coward once again, or I come back, stronger.

Either way, I was here in this house with my Aunt Greta, and I was safe. I felt around for the wall, and then the blinds, and eventually I pushed through to touch the glass, which rattled at my touch and continued to do so while my hand trembled. I opened my eyes to face it, and whatever was behind it. Heavy winds blew out there, heavy winds and a land of daylight. That was odd. Snow covered the ground, and my curiosity took control, making me pull the window up. It truly was out there, a place of ice, and he had.

heavy winds. I reached a hand through it, feeling around for anything, only to feel my blood run cold, bitten by the harsh cold winds. I tried to see if I could fit through, and that I did. This was no illusion. This was really happening. I stepped on to the snow, mountains everywhere in the distance, and perhaps I was on top of one myself. I turned around to ensure that the house was still where it was, and sure enough, the

entire house was right there, with snow moving excitedly to conceal it within itself. I walked a bit. Was this a dream? Was I finally aware of this being a dream? I kept moving. The trail of footprints I left behind assured me of my way back, and I moved with only a slight hesitation in my hand. This was a land beyond my worst fear, a snowy land, a winter kingdom. The further I stepped, the more snow I unearthed. I realized there was a red blood underneath the clean snow. The further I went, the more blood came into appearance, blood that even the fresh snow failed to cover. I was in my dream, yet somehow I was awake. The sound of the television never grew faint.

They stayed with me all the while, unintelligible but ever present. And in the far end of the snow, in a puddle of red blood, something floated. I lifted the white key. It had a warmth to it, even in this landscape. Was I meant to take it? A unique carving presented itself on it, something that looked ancient and also delicate it on the brittle substance. I rubbed my fingers amongst themselves, exploring the dampness of warm blood the key had sat in.

This was fresh. Blood dripped from my hands, and a realization came to me. This was carved from bone. And not only that, there was a blood dripping right down on it. Along my arm, it produced its own stream of fresh blood. I cupped my hand around it. Warm blood slowly filling my palms, and it dripped down them. The television sounds were in my ear again.

There was a song playing in the background. Some kind of jazz, I assumed, yet it was faint. What the hell was happening? I suddenly felt a pool, and I was back on the couch again. It was still dark outside. Someone knocked on the door. Who was here at this damned hour? I stood up, yawning and walked up to the door. Images from my dreams still in my mind. That was surreal. I opened the door to see two men in uniforms.

Daniel Vale, he asked, stopping himself abruptly, and then his eyes went wide. His partner withdrew his gun aiming right at me, and he followed suit. get on the ground he yelled get on the fucking ground asshole i complied falling down on the ground and gritting my teeth in confusion one of them made their way behind me securing me with a pair of handcuffs while the other went into the house gun pointed up he paced up and down the house the other officer roughly pulled me up to my feet and shoved me out of the house and into the back of the car i looked around and finally down at myself My clothes were stained with ridiculous amounts of blood. The other officer eventually stepped out of the house, giving his partner a nervous shake of the head. Where's the woman that lives here? One of them asked, peering their head through the window, yet I only heard an echo. I was beginning to fade again. This time I felt like my sanity was slipping away too.

I saw the face of my Aunt Greta flashed before my eyes. Hey, the officer asked again. Ms. Samson's face was next. And then my sister, my father, and my mother. So this was the last face I'd see before giving my sanity up. Fair enough. And then, to my utter horror, the face of the old woman came up. This time, locked in a sinister, toothless grin.

Her ugly, almost balding head and her crooked nose and awful skin. All of them presented themselves in vivid detail before I lost my mind. And yet, this time, the world didn't go dark. And instead, I was forced to... to realize that I was in a living, waking nightmare. Hey there, friends, I hope you appreciated and enjoyed this video. This is once again Winter Kingdom Part 2 by Akash Sharma. Part 3 is going to be coming up.

Unfortunately, it's going to have to be the beginning of December. Just because next weekend, sorry, just because next weekend, I have something special coming up, so look forward to that. But again, we will be covering the rest of this story very soon. So if we did enjoy this and would like more like this, please do follow the channel by subscribing, hitting a bell icon, go into any of my social media pages, etc. It can also support the Patreon or coffee, all optional, all appreciated. And yeah, until the next video, I just want to say that I love you all and I hope you have a beautiful day. All right.

And that's all. So, again, see you in the next video. But until then, sleep well. Zanags sur-gillet, Putsense Morrow for 15 minutes. We're like

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