CreepCast - Accounts From A Lonely Broadcast Station | CreepCast

Episode Date: October 12, 2025

Tune in to 104.6 F.M. with Evelyn at the Lonely Broadcast Station to see what everyone's been talking about. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Welcome back to Creepcast. Today we are going to be reading a story that I've even heard from only because it was like when I say that I've heard from, it's only because when we first started this, this is one of the stories that was brought up as like, oh, we could read this one. And this is accounts from a lonely broadcast station. This story is broke up into like, I believe, three seasons. We're just going to focus on season one today, which is parts one through nine of the first installment of the series.

As far as I understand that season one, there may, there's also these other kind of side stories related like Dead Air and 104.6 FM that may also be technically considered season one. We're stupid, so we're just going to read parts one through nine. We think that's safe. This story has been recommended to us a ton.

There is one account on Twitter that every time I tweet, there's two people. There is one who every time I tweet, regardless of what it is, asks me to make a video about Cormick McCarthy's The Road. And there's another account that every time I tweet asks us to cover Tales from a Lonely Broadcastation on Creepcast. So now one of those needs to shut up. Because we're doing it. We're doing the thing. But this story comes highly recommended.

People like it a lot. It seems to have a similar following to me as to like tales from a lonely gas station, you know? Yeah. Like people are really into the characters and they do a lot of like custom art and stories and like stuff like that. For a limited time, we've got merch for sale. Get in on some of our cool t-shirts, backpack, all of those goodies at the link in the description, creepcast.

store, it's here for a limited amount of time, and then it's gone forever. These things not I call you for me do, these don't you're not. And if you decide to support us over there, it means a lot and thank you. At least from me, Hunter doesn't care. It feels like one of those stories that is going to lean into that, where it's, it's going to have creepy moments,

but it's also going to have some humor and stuff as well as kind of what, it just feels like a very similar fandom. And that's what leads me to believe it's going to be like, oh, it's going to go silly in some places. But even with Taylor's from the gas station, there was some nice, like, fun, creepy moments in that story. A lot of, like, great writing and character building. So if it can nail at least a little bit of that, I'm going to be stuck to read it. Which also, uh, there, yeah, the author's name is Kel Byron.

And just for people who are going to be listening to this, uh, she has written a, uh, she has written a full-length novel from accounts for a lonely broadcast station. But it's like way more, added way more than what we're about to read. So my understanding, she made the Reddit post and then afterwards like reimagined it, rewrote it, and then is publishing it as a trilogy to which I believe the first two books are out right now. There's a third one on the way. There's also, there is a 10-hour audio book that she sells on her website, which is,

which is kelbyron.com. She sells a audio recording of this series that has like Mr. creepy pasta and other people voice acting that is 10 hours long. So if you're into what we're reading today, this is like the first drop in a very large bucket of lonely broadcast station content. And Kel Byron also seems to be cool online, like she interacts a lot with the community. She has a new story coming out called We Don't Hear Crickets anymore, which is coming this fall. So that's pretty sick. She also follows me on Twitter and stuff. So I imagine she's a fan. So that's pretty cool. So be sure to support

her. We'll have all her links below. She is also a goth girl by the appearances of it. So one of the seven sisters, it would seem part of the family, part of the tribe. So check her out. Also, her name on Reddit was

Win Dingus, which I can only imagine is a Windigo slash Dingus play. So once again, or hitting all the spots for me. Very intuitive. One of us. one of us very very intuitive detective work there we'll have like Isaiah was saying we're going to have

all of the links below you guys are cool about this and go support the author so please pick up the book if you like it it really does help the author out a lot and I think it's just in good faith you know what are we what are we doing here let's support the fucking authors while we can but without further ado I say let's just jump right into part one I just have to say because I was pulling up all her socials to find this

she made a tweet that said gonna take four bottles of Tylenol and chase it down with some battery acid to turn my body into a superpowered autism machine that only knows how to hate and then she replied to that with a picture of AM

from I have no mouth and I must scream so yeah I think we'll get along we got a nice we got a nice time We got a nice tie on all writer here, so we'll be... We got someone who was just off the goop, just gone, writing.

All right. Are you ready, Hunter? Yep. The story, so many people have told us to cover. It's happening now. It is time. Counts from a lonely broadcast station, part one. I only just started working this new job, and already it warrants keeping some kind of online journal.

The internet up here isn't so great. But now and again, when I stand in just the right spot, I'm able to get a signal. It probably sounds ridiculous that I'd have so much trouble, considering that I work at a broadcast station where you would imagine it's downright necessary to have contact with the outside world. Well, in these last three weeks I've been here, I feel more out of contact than ever. Let me be frank with you all. It's pretty lonely and boring up here sometimes. And other times, it's absolutely bonkers.

During those days when it's dull and painfully slow, I think I need some kind of outlet to talk and tell my stories. That's why I've chosen this outlet, so that I can tell you all what it's like up here. Right now I'm sitting next to the wall by the bathroom, the only spot I can get a tiny bit of Wi-Fi today. My butt is cold, my back is sore, but it's better than not having any internet connection at all. My name is Evelyn. It's an old lady name, I know. I'm 24 and I have a degree in journalism. But the best I could do with it right now was apply for a radio DJ position.

Three weeks ago, I started working at a broadcast station that sits 50 feet above the ground on a hill between an old rural town and a long, sparsely inhabited woodland. It's a surreal, lonely, and sometimes maddening place to be. If you live here, which I'm almost sure none of you do, I'm probably the only station you can listen to. The town is nestled between green-covered mountains, but the signal reaches far enough for travelers to hear sometimes. If you've passed through a very long stretch of road next to the woods, maybe taking a piss by the trees after passing the rest off.

That's been without plumbing for 10 years. Maybe you've heard my voice or listen to a couple of songs. There's nothing else for miles. And somehow, our town doesn't even pick up the tiniest signal from anywhere else. We play a bit of every genre of music to keep everyone in town happy. By we, I mean myself and the owners of the place who put me here. I'm the only radio DJ working right now. I know a few of you are probably thinking how this place stays running with only one DJ,

and I'll tell you, I live here. Since I got the job, I also received a backroom inside the station with the mattress and a fridge and the basics you would expect from a one-room apartment. At midnight, the radio plays an automatic playlist for six hours so that I can sleep, though I've been known to wake up several times in the night just to check how the broadcast is going. Living on site was a part of the deal that many others would probably reject, but it works for me. I lost my home recently, but I mean, that's another story for another post. What I'm trying to illustrate is that I've been working alone without more than a few five-minute conversations this entire time.

And because I'm the only DJ, obviously there aren't many things involved aside from playing music, sharing the weather forecast, warning the locals about emergencies, and talking about a bit of local news. Calls happened so infrequently that sometimes I easily forget that anyone's even listening at all. But all that aside, I did say that things are a little maddening around here, didn't I? I imagine what some would think. It's a pretty remote place. Only one corner store and one tiny diner for 50 miles. Woods all around us.

And it would be expected if I said we had some backwoods mischief makers roaming about. That's not it, though. Last week, the same song played on the radio for over an hour. I don't mean it repeated over and over again and I couldn't turn it off like some technical difficulty it simply never ended I even remember the song

it was Unchained Melody and I knew as I look Like from Fleetwood Mac Unchained melody I think from Elvis and shit Oh my love That's right yeah My darling

I hunger for your touch Are you Still might. I need your love. I need your love. God speed your love to me. okay um which also is a cover i'm pretty sure unchained melody on preacher is also a cover of i don't know who did the original one it was the righteous brothers righteous brothers okay well i didn't mean to set you off that question i don't know what song i was thinking of is it the chain is that the fleet wood mac one about you don't love me now yeah yeah you don't see it down down down down I didn't mean to do it no we're in part one

we have to have some semblance of respect for the story Benny I don't the read the only reason you're here is because you're going to bark at people who come to the door who you're left down I don't want to talk to you I don't want to interact with you I don't like you go somewhere else okay it was unchained melody and I knew as I listened that it had never been seven 75 minutes long. There were no calls of complaint, and after almost 80 minutes of listening to the song seamlessly, repeat its chorus as if it had been composed that way. I was finally able to simply switch to the next piece on the list. Not before getting a call, though. It was the first call I'd gotten in the station. On the other end of the phone was the voice of an old

man, frail and hoarse. He simply croaked, Thank you. His words were agonizingly slow. Painful. Dry. It almost sounded like he had a mouth full of dust and I swear I could smell the mustiness from over the phone. He hung up before I had a chance to say anything to him but I'm almost glad I'm not sure he had the energy for another word

another time just this last Wednesday five birds killed themselves on the window that is to say they smacked against it so hard that they just dropped I thought there was tiny nooses for a second I was about to make yes it's like

it's like well yeah I assume that's how a bird would kill itself by flying into something. Your tiny body's just hitting the window. Tell my wife. Tell my wife I love her, tweet, treat. I know for a fact

that this tower isn't invisible. It's an eyesore against the view of the trees, really. But on that same day, just minutes apart from one another, five different birds hit the glass of my broadcasting room, head first, hard enough to, well, die. on the same general spot, too.

I'm surprised they didn't leave a crack. They did, however, leave a bit of mess that bothered me for the rest of the day until I finally climbed out on the fire escape with a rag like some kind of old-timey window washer. We also have interesting rules. There's a board near my desk with a list of guidelines I've been told I have to follow.

Here we go. You can't be a narrative like multi-part online horror series and not have a set of rules somewhere. You got to have the rules. Got to have the rules. you have the rules. Rule number one, never let the radio go silent for more than a few minutes. If the broadcast is down due to technical error, activate the bell. Note that I still don't know

what the bell is other than the fact that there's a button on the wall labeled as such. It remains a tempting mystery. Rule number two, take care of the equipment, don't let anything break. Rule number three, any suspicious calls must be recorded, never tape over a recording. Rule number four, When the fog rolls in, do not leave the building. Do not open the door. Sound the emergency broadcast. I was about to make a comment about like, well, all those rules sound like normal rules for a broadcast. Like to take care of the equipment, record calls.

And then the fog. And then the fog. Beware the fog as it rolls in. Anytime I hear the when the fog, like, oh, if the fog comes or anything like in a horror sense, it always makes me to think of like Stevie King's of the mist or something. like that you know what i mean you have no uh when you're a teenager you have no real understanding of the world yet i don't think or at least a lot of people i don't want to say everybody because i know someone's gonna be like i fucking was stabbed or whatever so what i'm saying is at least when i was a

teenager and i was a giant piece of shit which you know still kind of am i just remember like my i think i remember like my english teacher coming in and being like i have to take some days off because my mom was in a car wreck and she died whatever and like it's just that all the kids being like and like laughing because not really like not really like not really understanding the weight of something you know what I mean it's it's shit like that well there's that but then there's like oh my someone died I feel like that's even the concept even the concept of death because if it was somebody that you like oh my god dude Jordan died your friend that is sad even I just don't think

that you fully understand what that means Like, you understand the permanence of it. It's not that, but I just mean, like, the sympathy of, like, knowing somebody for a lifetime. You aren't that kind of thing. I could be compliant. I'm just sad. I'm sure that was a bad example. No, I could see that.

I could see that. I can see that. I know what you mean, I think. Anyway, so, yeah, the fog. Look out for the fog rolling. Yeah, fog. It struck me as very odd that my implore would have such a strict rule about the fog. Oh, did it now?

Was that your first clue? After all, this is the main reason why they insisted on hiring someone who could stay at the station 24-7, at least until they get me a co-worker. It seemed out of left field, so specific and yet unrelated to any of my duties. I was surprised the fog was enough of an issue to warrant an emergency alarm, really. But only a couple of days in my job, I saw it for myself. On my second day of work, I was put to the test of getting the emergency broadcast out as soon as I could. You see, the entire room I work in has windows all around so that I can see outside into the woods. I assumed at first that this was just for the natural light, but now I'm thinking it's more of a watch, a fire watch, a fog watch, whatever kind of watch.

I figure if I'm positioned so high in the trees, it must be for a good reason. I'd been switching between songs, getting ready to introduce an old classic by Fleetwood Mac. Whoa! Oh, whoa. Your intuition is strong. Oh, I'll take that. I'll take that bear trap. When my eyes caught a rolling cloud of white on the horizon,

I let the song start, turning off my microphone and rushing to the window, expecting an avalanche coming this way. It seems absurd, I know, but that's exactly what it looked like from a distance. It looked like an avalanche, rolling white and gray, moving like ocean waves as it spilled over its own, form and move closer and closer. Fogs didn't walk, didn't? Fog's movement were so perfectly executed that it reminded me of steps. It undulated, as if its motions were being controlled by weight. I almost expected it to make a sound, but that's a stupid thought to have. I didn't

watch for too long. Slightly startled by the thickness of the fog on its way towards the town, I did just as I was instructed to do and return to my station, killing the music immediately. and taking up the microphone. This is an emergency broadcast from Pine Haven. Does she have a mid-Atlantic accent? Oh, shit, I was speaking. You know what? You know what?

Go for it. This is an emergency broadcast for Pine Haven. Is that okay? Is that okay? You know, honestly, her being like a 50s reporter. No, no, no, I'm not doing that for nine parts. It's going to be like five hours of recording. There's, I'm not going to, I'm going to, I have to try.

Okay. I just thought it was, uh, I legitimately was like, oh, yeah, I forgot she's the one that's running the fucking thing. This is an emergency broadcast for Pine Haven. I was speaking straight from a script using my most stern, clear spoken voice. This is a heavy fog warning. I repeat. This is a heavy fog warning for Pine Haven. Return to your homes immediately and wait for further.

instructions please lock all doors and windows that's her stern voice see yeah she switches into like the old detective cigarette smoke fills the room she's wearing a trench coat yeah i furrowed my brows at my own we we went out with a group of friends for a wedding a couple weeks ago and one of my buddy two of my buddies uh were drunk and thought it'd be a funny bit to walk around the room and anytime one of them was about to say something he would look at the other and go saxophone and he would start like a perfect saxophone noise with his mouth and the other one would just start monologuing as if he was a detective in an old TV show

and then they'd walk away and just go do that somewhere else that is a boy oh boy glad I was not there for that that sounds just fucking horrible good God saxophone

oh my boys and everyone's like okay okay that's awesome a saxophone Yeah, well, that's cool, dude. It's a nice youth pastor group thing you have going on there. That feels like the very innocent time. It'd be so funny if you guys were like in an opium den when this was happening.

Three black, three people overdosing. Yeah, exactly. Three dead Chinamen just like laying there with these long opium pipes. It's saxophone. Like walking through the open. Heyes. What? Benny's freaking out.

He did not. What? Someone's probably in your house, dude. There might be. I'll just kill him over there. This video is sponsored by our partners at Factor. Fall is here. The kids are back in school.

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Awesome. Get delicious rated eat meals delivered with Factor at Factormeals.com slash creepcast 50 off. 50 off. Offer only valid for new Factor customers with code and qualifying auto renewing subscription purchase. Yeah. Thank you, Factor for exposing the video. Now back to the video. I furrowed my brows at my own words.

This was extreme for fog, I thought, but it wasn't going to creep into anyone's house and commit a breaking and entering, was it? Shocked it all up to paranoia. Perhaps it was an unnecessary precaution we were obligated to make for some legality reason, but it still sent a chill at my spine. I turned my microphone off, leaving the music off as well. As much as I loved a bit of Stevie Nix, I was too interested watching the fog to pay attention to the silence.

My eyes were fixed downward. This insanely thick bank of misty-ass fog had almost gone all the way to the station and was curling around the bottom of my tower. It didn't quite reach where I was up in the air. However, wisps of clouds still drifted in front of the huge, stretching window that showed me the entirety of the forest. I could see just how far this fog went. It must have gone pretty damn far because it was just about the only thing I could see aside from the tops of a few of the tallest pine trees.

and those tall pine trees were moving. I thought it was an illusion at first, brought on by the churning waves of fog beneath, but I was wrong about that. The trees that I could see were shaking, moving from side to side briefly and one at a time. It was almost violent as if they were being pushed. The most ridiculous thought popped into my head

as I realized what it looked like. It looked like something was on its way towards me, crashing through the forest and hitting the, the trees as it went. The motions were serpentine. I watched one tree shake, then another to its right, then another to that trees left, all the while it came closer. I watched all of this with more curiosity than anything else. Judging by the speed, I was about ready to panic at any moment when I suddenly heard something that startled me even more. It was an unfamiliar sound. The phone rang. I ran to the desk and picked up the phone quickly, all the while my eyes continued to stare

out the window. He was my boss on the other end. He sounded furious. I could almost hear the spit flying from his mouth with each word. Turn the radio back on now. Sir, there's a fog emergency. I didn't think... I know.

Now turn the radio back on. He hung up the phone before I had a chance to ask questions, but it's a good thing I didn't get that time. Clanced upwards, ice fixed out the window to see that the fog was growing higher and higher. The tree tops had all completely disappeared and the window was nearly covered completely. I swore in that moment. I saw something in the murky gray mass slowly pulsing on the other side of the glass. A shape.

It was a dark, moving shape that was too concealed within the mist to give any semblance of detail. I didn't wait around to see what happened next. I followed my boss's orders, slammed my ass back into my chair, shoved my headset back over my ears, and turned up the music again. Within moments, the signal was live once more, and some bit by the Eagles was playing through my speakers in every radio in town as well. I breathed a sigh of relief. What was I so relieved about?

As far as I knew, nothing was on the line just because I had forgotten to turn the music back up, other than perhaps my job. There was still a sense of discomfort, however, as I turned my eyes back up to the window. The fog was still there, but it was creeping further and further down back in the woods. In moments, it had sank beneath the bottom of the window and out of sight. Pine trees came back into view, and then, before my very eye, I watched the horizon appears. The bank of fog slowly dissipated and moved on through.

Strangely, I got the same feeling that I was looking at something solid and organic again. Well, the fog stopped after that. I didn't have to make another emergency broadcast, and it's been two weeks since. Now, things are just a normal level of weird. I get a strange call now and then, usually someone from the town I don't recognize saying some gibberish message I can't understand, or now and then a song in my music lineup begins to play backwards. Once or twice, I swear I've heard someone talking in the room even with headphones on, but it's a muffled blur noise. Yesterday, I saw a bird perch on the edge

of the window staring at me, and I swear it has human-like eyes. But unless there's some weirdo out there crossing bird DNA with human genetics, it's probably just me being overly paranoid. I think that happens when you've been alone for a really long time. I have a lot more to talk about. And I'm sure in the following days and weeks, I'll have more stories and things to write down that might be of interest. But honestly, right now, my butt is starting to hurt something awful from sitting on this cold floor next to the bathroom. The 20-minute music block is almost over and I'll have to go through the local news. Maybe if you're driving through looking for a place to stop, you might hear me. Oh, and if you are, don't bother with the rest

up. The plumbing is still broken and their coffee tastes like gasoline. It probably is gasoline. This is Evelyn from 104.6 FM. Have a safe night. Be careful out there. End of part one. That was fun. End of part one. Yeah,

like it. It's a good vibe. I really love the whole like a fire watch tower. Yeah. In any story. Yeah, I was going to say it too. Very alien setting.

It's, it's always like a fun. It has the same kind of idea of like a lighthouse or something. Yeah. Because obviously it feels like Evelyn is up there to keep an eye up for something. But then also for some reason, the frequency. I don't know if it's just the music

or if it's the frequencies of the actual radio station is like keeping something at bay because the fog crept all the whipped her windows like 50 feet in the air and then as soon as you started playing it it started to dissipate back down

which is obviously that it's like oh yeah the tower is fending something off but there's also the angle that I like a lot of human isolation like your mind starts playing I mean can you imagine being out like isolated like that 24 so

I mean that's a prison sentence it's insane yeah yeah so the idea you're constantly surrounded by like the visual of trees everywhere like how isolated you are yeah so i mean the idea of like because there's been some times of like i've you know worked a long time haven't talked with anybody and either one when you're really tired or something you like hear or see something but even this idea of like a bird coming in and there's like human eyes there on the bird of like wait did i just actually see that your mind playing weird tricks with you i that's good i think that's that's that's It's going to be a really fun thing as we start diving through the next, like, eight parts of this story, so.

Yeah, yeah. Well, shall we move on to part two? Let's move on to part two. Before we continue, I want to take a quick moment to thank today's sponsor, Ridge Wallet. I've been using the Ridge Wallet nonstop for over three years now. So to me, it's safe to say they're trusted, and they're here now with a cool new offer. When you're on the go as much as I am, cords become a hassle. You've got to remember the cord for the phone and the cord for the wall.

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you can find ridges power bank at best buy or you can get 10% off at ridge.com by using our discount code creepcast at checkout that is right just head to ridge.com and use code creepcast to get 10% off and you're all set after your purchase they'll ask where you heard about them and if you could say yes it would really mean a lot thank you so much to ridge for sponsor answering the show. We are now back to the episode. Have you ever met a person who was just too much person? I'm talking about one single human who sucks the energy out of you as if they were an entire bustling big city crowd somehow condensed into one body. I think we've all met at least one person like this before. The type that makes you wonder how they fit such a big

attitude inside themselves without popping like a cheap dollar store balloon. Yeah, it's like you hunter. I knew I fucking knew you're going to change something. I don't know you know maybe maybe i can play jazz saxophone with my lips and it'll start give me a little more fucking respect around here is that is you jealous you wish you could play a saxophone with your lips oh i could i met a guy like this he's sitting in the room with me right now i'm sure you're all here to read about the more unusual things happening up here at the radio station and believe me i have some downright creepy shit to tell you about but first i need to introduce you to my new co-worker who just started this morning today was his first

first day, might be his last day too. His name is Daniel. Daniel is a lot. He's loud, full of motion, and may genuinely think he's Bob Barker in the flesh. My boss dropped by during my second week here and noted that I looked weary. He knew why. I sleep four hours a night if I'm lucky and haven't gone outside in three weeks. Dan will be your part-timer. My boss said, let him take a few responsibilities so that you can get a little fresh air. The folks in town will like a new voice as hesitant as i was i knew what he meant i could use the extra help and those at home could use a little conversation to add spice to their listening experience but i knew right away that dan and i mixed like oil and water i decided to let him try his hand at announcing but the first

time he turned on his mic and heard him belt out good morning and would you look at that sunshine by a truck. I hope he ends up like one of those fucking birds, dude. I need him to fall out of the tower. Head first, please. Yeah, not even supernatural, just like a gun accident. Some kind of just literally slip wooden stairs and just falls right off. Yeah. Yeah. I couldn't help but give him a stare of both disbelief and the fear that if he keeps bellowing like that, he'll give every old person in town a heart attack on the spot. He cut our population. in half. But as much as his over-the-top radio personality irks me,

I kind of feel bad for the guy. Not because he tries too harder, because he seems to have some deep-seated need for attention. That's all true, but it's not why I feel bad. I feel bad because well, right now he's sitting across the room for me in a fetal

position, shivering with blood running out of both years and one nostril weeping. Okay, well, I got what I wanted. Yeah. Well, no, no, no. There still has not descended down the stairs, yet so well he's he's getting there that i'm getting closer to what i want as far as first days go dan had a weird one at eight o'clock in the morning he arrived i think he was surprised to see that he wasn't getting some cute spunky thing as his good i read that i read that like an alien

cute, spunky things. Glebe, Glebe, glit glit. I think he was surprised to see that he wasn't getting some cute spunky thing as his co-worker,

but rather my tired self with a messy braid and a hoodie filled with two warm granola bars I had forgotten about, but would be delighted to find later on. At 9 o'clock,

I let him give the weather forecast, and he did so with enthusiasm. Then at 10 o'clock, I had to explain to him that the bird on the window with human-looking eyes has been hanging around for days now and probably isn't up to anything.

It's just ugly, I reassured him. At 11 o'clock, he told me that there was some creepy human sobbing coming from inside the bathroom sink. I was a bit shaken that he hears it too, but shrugged it off by telling him that it doesn't excuse him from washing his hands. Actually, kind of feel bad for Daniel.

Like, that would, the idea, the idea of your coworker just being like, yeah, pretty much just like a boy with human eyes a woman crying. It's not a big deal. I mean, like, I would be fucking horrified. Yeah, but after his good, after his, uh, uh, good body, yeah. Yeah.

You know, wash your hands, Dan. Wash your hands. Go ahead. Wash your hands, Daniel. No, I does wash them. Then at noon, exactly on the hour, we got a collar. This was very, very unusual. Of all the things considered weird, the weirdest was the reminder that other people actually

live here. I stared at the screen for the longest time, trying to figure out whether or not to answer the call, but ultimately decided that it would be ridiculous not to. Hello, caller. We've got you on the line. I spoke in a soft, mature radio voice. The line was quiet for a moment, but I could hear a soft but static in the slightest hint of a breath.

Yes, Evelyn? It was a woman's voice, probably about 70 years old. She sounded as if she was shivering, which I assume was just shitters from being live on the air. My name is Rose. I had something I'd like to tell you. Of course, Rose. What's on your mind today? Well, I've had a bout of strange dreams, dear. And I'm wondering if anyone else has had the same. You see, last night, I had a dream in which the forest splits into,

a departing of the Red Sea, dear. I hope you know the story of Moses, don't you? uh we play songs ma'am i yeah can you imagine well at this point i'm like oh the fog comes for us all we're all a little shaken up like you know it's like yeah get in line i've also had my four splitting dream and there's a fucking human eye bird and like a fucking japanese woman crying in a well below us like i think hey rose you want to come listen to the sink tell me if you hear anything come over to the sink go check this out yeah yeah yeah can you also fall off of the tower please I spared a glance towards Dan.

My lip curved upward and a tiny smile mixed with a grimace, as if to say, oh boy, here we go. He returned it with a witty grid of his own, glad that I was the lucky one to answer. Um, sure, de Rose. What happened next? Well, the ground was open and something was rising out of it. It blocked out the whole sky, you see. I can't even describe it. But it covered everything, the town and the sun, all that my eyes could see.

The sound it made, a fearsome bellowed that shook the whole earth. Then I woke up, did you think that God lives in the forest, dear? Dan apparently saw the expression on my face, unwilling to answer fear of, well, offending or encouraging any other zealous callers. And so he finally did something good for me and answered in my place. That's an interesting dream, ma'am. I think if God lived in the forest, he wouldn't give you a nightmare like that. that that you did at the end of the laugh pissed me off at dan so much the little like the satisfaction after the laugh at the old thing you said and i want to say

that i want to say that i probably have put dan into a like in a position of no redemption now No, no, no. I feel bad. He's wearing suspenders and a bow tie in my mind now. I've got to fight him. He laughed, but his laugh was cut off by a snappy tone from the woman on the line. Well, he tried. We're meant to be afraid of God, dear. Her voice sounded like a slither, like a hiss.

For an old woman, she almost struck a bit of fear in me with that tone. Besides, I wasn't talking to you. My grimace was gone, replaced by a furrowed brow of concern and very obvious discomfort. I didn't like this conversation. It had gone from, oh, boy, to oh no, to oh shit, very, very quickly. I had three weeks to get used to some of the weird mind tricks around this place, but this was different for me. This was real human conflict that I couldn't just blame on the stress of isolation.

Rose's words and the way she said them bordered on malicious. That sweet, nervous, grandmotherly tone was gone. and suddenly it felt as if I were on the phone with someone who genuinely had ill will towards us both. I'm afraid it's time for the weather, Rose, but feel free to call back. Should you keep having these very interesting dreams? Thank you for calling, ma'am, and have a wonderful afternoon. I ended the call, then face Dan with wide eyes while mouncing the words, block that number.

That's pretty funny. It's just like a mentally ill old woman. It's like, keep her out of it. here the one phone call they've had in like weeks it's like never let her if you were in total if you were in total isolation but the only like you're the total isolation like she is right but and you hear the music and all this stuff and the only caller is this person talking about their dreams in that manner would you ever would you just be like i'm not going to answer anymore or would you have it just for the human connection i mean you have nothing to do up there

I mean, now she's got Dan, sure, but I hope he dies. So I think you would answer, even if it was weird. You know, it's also part of the job, right? I don't know if I'd want that kind of like spiritual crisis, like existential spiritual crisis. You know what I mean? The other option is you just stay in your lighthouse above the trees and never interact with anyone. I feel like I'd rather go insane and just make up people. I'd call the radio station myself and talk to myself.

You do that anyway. It's like that does feel about what it's like on the show. Let's let's let's let's let's let's give you mind this is coming from the guy who does cartoons where he voice acts all of them and has arguments with himself in character. So I think it's I think it's safe to imagine that you would just be like I've got enough. Those are those are videos. So I have to do it as beginning it's a it's a video that I'm presenting. I don't just argue I have I have been I have been with you and I have witnessed you do a voice and then another voice here's the previous voice. and they get into a fight with each other. That is not true.

You 100% would be stuck in a tower by yourself screaming at yourself. And I think I would have enjoyment. I think that having someone else call me, it would add too much. The human interaction would add too much? Or just the, just the freakiness of it.

Or like, I'm already, there's already so much other weird shit. I, I'd block the number. All I'm saying is I'd block the number. That's what I would do. Okay.

I wish I could say that the weirdness ended then and there. but we're never so lucky. After the call from Rose, we had more calls. Two and then three, then seven by the time five o'clock rolled around. Wow. They were all very similar. People in town were recounting their dreams, but they weren't all elderly people talking about God

or whatever Eldridge abomination they saw rising out of the woods. I heard all types of people, all types of voices, young and old, some little quirky and others who seemed more skeptical. One caught me off guard. I still remember her words perfectly. It was a young woman, maybe my age, and she sounded as if she was hesitant, but somehow still desperate to tell anyone about what she had seen. I saw a bird with human eyes. Right away, I was curious, as this was something a little too real levels of weirdness.

In a dream? No. Woman answered, there was a harsh intake of breath from the other side. I don't sleep anymore since it started perching at my window. All of them. Windows that weren't even there before. Sorry, I shouldn't have called. Before I had a chance to say anything, she hung up the phone.

It's difficult trying to think of the best words to explain how I felt after that phone call. Regret, I think. I felt somehow responsible for the sorrow and hesitance in her voice, the way she saw some need to apologize for telling me what she saw. There's a deep hit of dread in my stomach. I hope she's okay, whoever she is, and that she figures out where all those extra windows came from. I hope she figured out where all those windows appeared on her house.

I hope to get past that. Yeah, I feel personally responsible for those windows. I'll admit that I had to take a break from writing this in order to tend to my new coworker. I had said that he had a rough first day. Rough's a bit of a lax word. At first, he was only a bit spooked about the general weirdness up here, but after what happened with our final phone call of the day,

there was enough to warrant actual concern for his physical health. I let Dan take over all the controls while I left just long enough to make a sandwich realizing that it was almost 9 o'clock at night and I had yet to feed my flesh prison that entire day. Human bodies, obnoxiously needy. He had a call come in, which I realized only because I heard him answer it.

I didn't even hear it ring. It was late and a strange time for calls, but I figured if it was someone being a creep, at least it would be entertaining to see how he handled it. However, Dan was silent after that first time. initial greeting. Second, sticked by, and he said nothing. Finally, when I stepped out of the tiny employee kitchen with the peanut butter sandwich in hand, I witnessed my co-worker, throwing the headphones off his head and letting out a shriek as he covered his ears. His eyes were wide and

impossibly bloodshot. Vains were popping in his forehead and neck, and his moppy, dark hair flew back and forth as he shook his head before dropping to his knees. I could see blood dripping down from his nose over his top lip and his teeth, which were barred in a pained grimace. Through the hair at the sides of his head, I saw dark trickles of blood streaming over his hands as if something inside his ears had burst. I dropped my sandwich with a few cuss words exclaiming as I rushed over to him, grabbing one of his wrist in an attempt to see the damage. He didn't want to move his hands, and I didn't blame him.

With that much blood, I'd be afraid too. His eyes blearily scanned over my face, and I asked, loudly if he could hear me. He simply gave me a dumbfounded expression and whimpered pathetically as if even more upset over the fact that he could only read my lips. Oh God, his ears were totally shot. Music continued to play. However, with the microphone still running and is screaming likely caught on the broadcast, I made the decision to keep the rest of his struggle private by marching over to the console and turning off both microphones. Let the music run automatically and returned to his side, where he had fallen over and was now lying on it with his

legs curled up, shivering and traumatized. He looked at me, tried to mouth a few words, but didn't get far before his eyes rolled back, and he was out cold and a dead faint. I sat across him for a long time. Myz glanced over at my sandwich, which was already being feasted upon by some very fortunate aunts that probably thought a merciful God had rained down this gift from the heavens. I left it there, not wanting to disappoint them. That's when I found the granola bars in my pocket, half melted, but still a very happy surprise. Maybe I was my own merciful God. After a while of watching over Dan and riding up a bit of my day, I noticed him finally stir.

He was startled, gasping for breath as if waking from a nightmare. I starting around the dark room until he saw me cross the space and approach him. I got down to his level, lying on my sides so that he could see my face clearly and understand what I asked him. We were on the floor side by side like two kids at the shittiest slumber party ever, not even one pillow to spare. Your face is bloody. Think you walk to the bathroom? He nodded. Want to sleep on an actual mattress?

He hesitated, then nodded again. I'd already called an ambulance while he was unconscious, but I knew it would take a while to get here. Our town didn't exactly have a hospital, and anyone who's had to drive around the mountains knows the chore that trip is. Until then, he could rest on the mattress

in my employee apartment and sleep off whatever shit he was going through. I was surprised that he got on his feet as easily as he did. that is to say, without falling over at all. Although, his balance was worse for wear. One would suspect as much with two newly injured ears. I let him sit down on the toilet as I helped clean up his face

and underneath his ears, letting him wash his own hands. Can you hear me at all? I asked now that we were in a quiet, noise-free room. Took him a moment before he finally spoke, but his voice was a hoarse whisper that he probably couldn't even pick up. A little, he said, and smirked with a sad excuse. for a chuckle. You're friendlier when I can't hear you well.

Okay. So she picks up Dan and she throws him through the pain class window. I think Dan's kind of growing on me a bit. No. Honestly, you know it honestly did it. Is that chuckle that you did when you were being earlier? Because now what he did the,

you're friendlier when I can't hear you well. I couldn't help but imagine like, you're friendly. To be fair, I could, I could have read. I couldn't write it like, you could have been like, you're friendlier when I can't hear you well. That's what it was in my head.

So you didn't have to read it that way. You've already said that in stone. All right. I would have slugged him in the shoulder for that one, but I just laughed and let it slide. It felt weird taking care of someone else. I didn't think I was a maternal type of person, but I found myself being as general as possible with his blooded face with genuine care for his comfort. He was cleaned up, all except for his ears, which were covered in what, advantages we had on hand, and I helped him to the mattress so he could lie down and rest.

Damn, as far as first days go, this was probably the worst I could imagine. I really felt for the guy then. First, he was just annoying, but now that he was subdued, albeit in a terrible way, he wasn't so insufferable. As he laid down with a bit of a wince, I turned to leave, but not before he waved a hand towards me in a weak sort of a tension-grabbing slap to the arm. I heard it, he mumbled, the volume of his voice fluctuating, but still difficult to make out. The color was drained from his face and he took in a breath, laced with an audible

shiver. A pillow. God in the woods. Black Crow said. My brow crinkled and I turned away, grabbing a thin, folded blanket from the top of a plastic shelving system and traping it over him. That wasn't some fearsome God, Dan. Just something really wrong with your headset. We'll fix you up. Just get some rest. That's where Dan spent the rest of the evening, at least until an ambulance came to pick him up. It took them damn long enough to get there.

I decided to spend the night at my desk, watching the broadcast go without even putting my own headset on. After a while, it became a surreal experience, just watching the music play by itself and trying to imagine who out there was actually listening to it. Maybe I was the only one. It's crazy how I went from hating Dan to suddenly missing his presence now that I was alone and completely uninterested in sleep.

And yes, I know I lied to him. It wasn't his headset. Whatever he heard was very real, but I don't know. He's gone through enough without that to worry about too. It's after midnight now. And I heard a disturbing sound. The phone started ringing again. Someone was calling in.

I took a deep, steady breath through my nose and ignored it. This is Evelyn from 104.6 FM. And the strangest looking bird is still sitting at the edge of my window. End of part two. I like the way so far. Well, first off, I don't know if you've been feeling the same way, but these read really easy. Like, I feel like they flow. yeah they're very conversational speak uh they're very kind of that there will be a moment of like

talking about something or recognizing something but then it's like back to plot back to whatever the thing going on is there's not a lot of time and i mean it as a compliment there's not a too much time spent on like um mulling stuff over or interpersonal thoughts or stuff it's just like these are the things that's happening to me i think one thing that it's doing well is kind of to your point of not willing things over. I think that also each plot so far, it's been something very simple. The first one was, oh, there's weird rules and yep, the fog came and it's just fixing on that, fixating on that versus having like a bunch of other things happening. And in this one of now the second one just being like, well, yeah, there's a new guy

coming in because she's like, oh, maybe hopefully they'll hire somebody in the first part. And then in part two, they hired somebody. But mostly the whole thing is, oh, we have callers today. And it's just fixating on the collars and just kind of like that and how that affects the new guy. I think that it feels like it's building it also too. I really like Evelyn as a character.

Yeah, she's really, she's very sweet. She's kind she's got a little bit of the kind of like it doesn't have like a at first I thought it was going to be like a tumbler kind of like she's always snarky or like you know.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. That kind of thing. Which it's like there's it she just feels which I think I like it because she just feels like a person doesn't she it's like yeah she has like a little funny things of the the kind of chiseledness that you would find from someone who's like been dealing with this for however long she's been working at the broadcast station but it's not like everything is accompanied with like a fucking quip which I feel like a lot of stories that we read that are like this all the characters do that where everything is just kind of like yeah well he wasn't such a baby or you know

like or there's always something that's uh you know there's way too many there's way too much winking at the camera yeah yeah yeah i thought so get a load of this guy but i mean other than like like the closest thing we got to that is she was like humans are needy i'm in a flesh prison but it's still not it's not egregious it's just no i don't think so she's mostly to herself she's fine being up in here um yeah like i said it feels conversational feels like i'm just reading like a casual honestly what it is it's it is a girl posting a blog about working in a weird tower that's why uh yeah exactly i think that the no like the no sleep format works really well for this because it does feel that conversational with the viewer also like i said too dan he was

insufferable but at the same time at the end you kind of felt bad for him and i like that even as evelyn was annoyed with him as well by the end she was just kind of like i can kind of miss him like i i i hope that we get some more of those interactions or even maybe dan can come out maybe come back i should say um no no i just fully just i don't i don't need a back i don't i think he's going to stick he's going to stick around for a while is what i think the hyper eagerness of him is going to get on my nurse good money which if i heard on the radio i would change the station immediately uh all right part three part three i want to take a quick moment to thank today's sponsor tushy tushy it's the luxury

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Tushy.com promo code Creepcast to get your incredible offer today. Thank you to Tushy for sponsoring the show. We are now back to the episode. I never knew that your surgery was so simple. Dang it, he lived. That sucks. His back. Poor Dan. Not to say that it isn't a delicate and skilled process, of course, but when I got the call from Dan's mother, lovely woman, by the way, she told me that with an outpatient surgery, they'd be able to decently repair one of his years and possibly give him some partial hearing and the other. At the very least, they'd fix it up enough to avoid

infection. I suppose I always thought the year was such a small and intricate part of the body that fixing up those tiny cramped caverns of bones and delicate vibrations would be a huge deal. Dangerous deal. Turns out Dan got the surgery the morning after the incident with his headset and is recovering.

They think he'll be able to hear well enough to stick around here and do his job. Dang it. Are you sure? Did you double check? though he may need some hearing assistance once he fully heals he won't be returning to work for a few days probably and may not be wearing a headset for a long time but while talking to his mother i heard him in the background saying is that evelyn tell i'm not that being a nuisance yet it's like a stake in your heart every time i love it is the the

The hum of satisfaction after laughing at your own joke. It's absurd. It's awful. So I guess I've still got a part-timer. A nuisance part-timer. He's just taking a very early, very medicated vacation. While he's out, I've been here by myself. And damn it, that bird will not leave.

Do you think the bird is some kind of like omen of some kind? I hope the bird is. I hope it's there to kill Dan. Whatever. It might kill Dan. I'm wondering if it is like this might be a stupid take or something, but the thing that is existing in the fog, it almost, I'm like I'm wondering if it's like it's its eyes or something. You know, like it's, it's something that's like it can see through these birds, which is also like why they're kind of going up over town and creating this like surrealist nightmare of creating new windows that weren't there before. Like I'm wondering if whatever's existing down there is like vicariously looking at.

things through it. Mm-hmm. It could be, it could be like a harbinger. Knowing this series, it could be just someone's soul. There's just a person. Could be.

Yeah. The bird now. Kind of like how they say seagulls, or at least they, then the lighthouse room, they say seagulls. They've got the souls of sailors. The souls of sailors.

Yeah. Could be the souls of people that have died in the forest or something. I noticed something while looking out the window between giving the forecast and playing a block of commercial free music. It's building a nest. That little shippiece and it's dance. of my eyes is building a nest right out in front of where I sit all day. Now, I like birds.

I generally don't have trouble with any kind of wildlife, so long as it's not trying to pick a body apart to run off with. But somehow, for whatever reason, the last thing I want to see is this bird create multiple mini versions of itself. I can just imagine tens of them lined up all around the window, staring at me from every direction, watching what I'm doing. I almost decided to go out there and try moving the nest down into the woods, but I don't want to leave the station unmanned for too long. Maybe I'll wait until Dan gets back and let him take over for a while so I can take that thing far, far away from the tower.

I hate the stupid bird. Before I sat down in the morning, I cleaned myself up at the bathroom mirror. The sink was quiet. I know that should be a good thing, but I don't mean clanking pipes for clogged plumbing causing any sound. On Dan's first day, he said he heard the sobbing from down to the sound. the pipes and it shook me a bit. I've heard it too, but I figured it was just me. I figured the isolation of being up here, 50 feet in the air with no company except for the grocery delivery man,

was starting to make me imagine human voices in places where they didn't really exist. But he heard it too. Honestly, I was a bit disappointed that it didn't continue the first time I noticed the eerie silence. I was going to try convincing Dan that we had a colony of mold people living in the plumbing as soon as he got back. That joke wouldn't solve the mystery, but at this point, humor's just about the only thing keeping me saying around here.

But if you ask, did I think it was a ghost down there, a person? No, I didn't care so long as it remained a sound and nothing else. I didn't matter where it came from. I forgot about it for a bit.

I stopped thinking about whatever was, or wasn't rather, in the sink and went about my daily work. The skies were blue and clear. The air was chilly, but warm for being in the mountains. All in all, things were boring. But I suppose I could use a boring day after watching my co-workers' eardrum

simultaneously ruptured the day before. I'll take a boring day over a bloody one. I sat down, putting my headset on and waiting for the automatic music block to come to an end. There were envelopes, opened and stacked about with get-well Zoom cards placed in a line above the consoles. Worked out fast that Dan was undergoing a standard minor surgery, and I imagined that anyone listening to the evening before who heard, heard his pain screams, was quick to hunt down the Gossipers for information. At least 10 people in town sent cards straight to the station with the early morning mail.

I sat them in front of his chair like a cute surprise for when he came back. Even I ordered one for him too, but unfortunately, the grocery delivery guy had accidentally been given a happy birthday grandma a card instead. I still signed it and put it up with the rest. It's the thought that counts. Good morning. This is Evelyn McKinnon with 104.6 FM. I hope everyone is enjoying the sunny skies today. Daniel Esperanza will not be joining me this morning,

but he would like to thank everyone for the kind well wishes and can't wait to return at the end of the week. Stay tuned for the five-day forecast at 8.30 this morning, but until then, enjoy the 30 minutes of uninterrupted music here on 104.6 FM. Something that the story's done twice now that I like is it will very casually slip a detail that becomes like

the thing the next section talks about, right? Because in the first part, it's like, oh, I'm supposed to get a new co-worker soon. It's kind of just brushed over. And then the second part's about that coworker. And now during the part with the coworker, it's like, he said he heard something in the pipes.

I ignored it. He said he heard sobbing or whatever. And then like this next part's dealing with that a bit. And then maybe the next part will be about the grocery delivery guy or something. It's just a casual way to make everything feel connected, but still having like there's enough of a point to be like

yeah this was always the direction it was supposed to go with the next parts but it's just smart about or like the bird with the eyes stuff like that. Right. Little breadcrumbs that you don't realize

are breadcrumbs until they're picked up later I like. I wasted most of the morning away. The Wi-Fi was close enough that I could sit near my desk and surf the web a little looking for news to talk about.

I was in a bored days looking at the clock, waiting for time to pass. The internet's too slow to play much video unless I'm in the mood for a good long buffer, so most of that time was spent just staring at a dull screen. At noon, my eyes snapped to the sides as the noise came through my earphones. It was the phone.

Even while the music played, someone was calling in. I thought maybe it was a request, or maybe Dan's mother calling again. Apparently Daniel had said enough good things about me for her to invite me to her niece's wedding in June, sweet woman. I made sure that the audio mixer wouldn't pick up the call or my voice with the music broadcast and with the touch of hesitance, I allowed the voice to come through. This is Evelyn at 104.6 FM. What can I do for you? There's a loud gasp on the other end. It is shaking, shivering sob and the sounds of a young woman breathing in through a stuffy nose. I recognize the sound. It was less muffled than it had ever

been more direct, or human. It was the same pattern of sobs. I heard from inside the sink every day since I had started, and the same one Daniel had heard as well. I felt a chilling sensation. Like the sudden gust of wind, you feel walking out into a blustery winter night from a warm building. It didn't hit me all at once, but traveled from the top of my head, down my back, and all the way to the tips of my toes. Every hair of my body stood on in. Every pore and freckle was like a stinging pinprick.

And then words began to come through. You have to stop! She was still sobbing, still gasping and sniffling. She paused and I assume it was to let me speak. Are you all my God? Stop making excuses. She interrupted me and all at once I became confused. Was she talking to me at all?

I'm so tired. This is my hope. I wanted to help you but you won't let me. I didn't respond. It was as if I were listening to only one half of a conversation like a recording. Something about the voice sounded familiar to me, enough to make my stomach drop into a pit deep in my gut. But then again, I'd heard it before in the bathroom's sink, and I heard it anywhere else? Please, let me, let me help you, please.

You haven't, you haven't been sober a single day since graduate. All at once, I ripped the headset off my ears, pushed my chair back, left the device dangling on a cord like a pendulum off the side of the desk. It wasn't for lack of reason. I felt the most intense nausea erupt suddenly. Stomach churning and mouth watering. No time at all to wonder if I'd be able to let it calm or not. I rushed to the bathroom with the call still going, the voice speaking and sobbing into the open air.

Vertigo struck as soon as the door was within reach. And those three steps of the toilet felt as if I were walking in a bright, spinning carnival tunnel. My legs buckled at the knees and I went crashing down, white knuckles, gripping the edge of the toilet seat as I tried to drag myself towards it. My arm lacked the strengths, but it was then that the nausea turned to something else. I was choking. Shit, if there was ever a time I could have a co-worker there with me, this would be the moment. I lost my breath and the vibrant colors that spun around me only grew more blinding.

Static in my vision as I prepared to lose consciousness. And then, with a desperate cough, I felt a sharp pain of something dislodged itself from my throat. My head hit the floor with a thud, but I found myself staring directly at the thing that had somehow gotten inside of my body. It was a stone, just a stone, a brown, speckled one like you'd find out in the woods, maybe on a hike, maybe from a riverbed. As far as things you could mysteriously choke on with no explanation, a stone seemed like a rather boring item. As I looked at it, perhaps it's sheer frustration that it had almost killed me,

I wanted nothing more than to be rid of it. My arm shook as I pushed myself up, grabbing the stone in my fist. Without a second thought, I threw it into the toilet, flush the handle, watching it disappear down the cyclone of water. It was then that I swore I heard a sniffle to my right, coming from deep down inside the pipes beneath the sink. You can have it back. I wiped my face with my sleeves, then washed my hands thoroughly before returning to my desk. My headphones were still dangling off the edge of the table, swinging back and forth slowly. I picked them up, put them over my head once more, and was greeted

with silence from the other line. The woman had hung up the phone. the sense of discomfort hasn't left that bird hasn't left what's worse is I saw it clicking its beak on the window looking straight at me it wants to come in I know how crazy it sounds

acting like I know what a bird wants and his thinking but the sparrow is too human not to be aware of its expression pleading demanding eyes or staring constantly as I sit at my desk only gone when it leaves to fill its nest I'm not letting it in There's a fog advisory for Thursday

It's only Tuesday as I write this But I still find myself staring across the forest Expecting to see the hills of trees start to move I expect to see a burst open Where does the fog even come from I'm imagining it now Drifting up from beneath the ground Rising into the air and covering the town and the sun

All that my eyes can see And the sound it might make fearsome bellow that shakes the whole earth shit maybe I shouldn't have blocked Rose's phone number at all this is Evelyn from 104.6 FM and I just noticed a brown speckled stone sitting on the edge of the window

class of 2017 written in white paint on its side I don't know how it got there but more importantly who on earth fished that thing out of the damn toilet End of part three starting to get a little mystery buildup though I'm liking it

I feel I'm getting more into it the more we go because the pieces are cool like the lady on the other end saying you haven't been sober since graduation she throws up a stone the stone appears on the window and has class of 2017 written on it

which his story was written I think in 2017 right eight years ago so 2017 right so but our Evelyn isn't didn't graduate grade high school this year, I don't think.

So maybe that's like a high school student. Maybe it has something to do with like someone that died. I don't know. Maybe it's something like someone died and they're the bird or whatever like souls in the bird or whatever. And then like the woman calling was a mother like a concerned family. I'm just making stuff up. I don't know.

I like a lot of the pieces it's giving the little mystery stuff. I think it's fun. Yeah. I think so too. Only way, one way to keep finding out those mysteries to read on into part four. I was also confused at the beginning because when she says, I thought maybe it was a request her Dan's mother calling again. And for some reason, my head's like, oh, this is going to be Dam's mom.

And she's just screaming and crying. And for a second, I'm like, maybe he's dead. But no, that's not what it was. So I don't get what I want. All right, part four. I honestly never thought I dread a Thursday the way I did. It's a perfectly good day of the week. and rarely do you ever hear people complaining about how much they hate Thursdays.

There's no, is Thursday over yet, mugs out there next to the Monday ones. However, as the week drifted slowly by, all I could think about was the constant warning of another foggy day quickly approaching. Top of all that, my morning started with the script for a missing persons report. A woman named Jennifer Cook, age 25, had wandered into the woods in a supposed sleepwalking incident and her status for whatever reason have been listed as an extreme danger i recognized her name we were friends in college oh i didn't even i'm stupid i didn't even think about college graduation it could be class of 2017 you know for college yeah yeah one good thing did happen daniel decided

resting was boring as hell and made the decision to return one day earlier than expected still recovering but plenty well enough to pester me almost regretted to say it but i miss the guy I guess it's true that you don't always realize you'd miss something until it's taken away from you. And even this insufferable pain of my ass was better than the absolute isolation. Beggers can't be choosers. I watched his eyes lit up seeing the get well cars that have been left on his side of the console. He snorted when he noticed the one I left for him. Happy birthday grandma.

I want to feel bad because it's not him. It's you that makes me aid him. But it's so inseparable in my mind at this point. Like when we heard his last name was Esperanza, I just coasted over that fact. I coasted over the mention he has moppy black hair in my head. In my head, it's like he has a perm.

Like a perm almost of like red hair. He's a ginger kid. Yeah. Yeah, yeah, and it's like in a, it's like a high in tight, but it sets off his head and is curly and he's wearing glasses that are taped in the middle. He basically, he looks like a human embodiment of Carl Weezer from Jimmy Neutron, but annoyingly skinny. Oh, gosh. Okay. Whatever.

He laughed as he picked it up, opening the car to find no kind words or even a signature, but a doodle of him with two Beethoven-inspired ear trumpet stuck tape to his head. What can I say? I was bored. Thanks, Evelyn. You're a very thoughtful grandchild. After the morning weather broadcast, at which time he joined me to announce his return to the station,

we turned off our microphones to catch up. I hardly believe it needs saying that catching up for us didn't only involve the mundane. He told me about his procedure in vivid detail, almost excitedly. And to be honest, I was very interested. Delicately, he tilted his ear to either side to show the scars behind his ears and the surgical dressing still kept on the inside.

It was no wonder he still spent most of his time trying to read my lips. Even if his ears had been successfully repaired, he couldn't hear a damn thing with cotton stuffed in there. Eventually, we exhausted talk of scalples and stitchels, and he asked me what sort of bizarre things happened. He had missed while on his vacation. SIG is still acting up. The pipes were a little rusty the other day, though.

I think that was making it a bit weepier than usual. Did you get any calls? I hesitated, but trying not to look too unwilling to answer. Rather, I pretended I was in thought, looking back at dull and completely unimportant memories before shaking my head. Not really. Just a couple of music requests. Some guy in town has a serious crush on Diana Ross.

Daniel's eyes were fixed on my face, reading it far after my lips and stopped moving. I think the fact that I avoided his gaze completely was more of a tell-tale sign of secrecy than anything else. I didn't want to tell him about the crying woman on the phone, the rock that had been in my stomach, or any conversation all of that may stir. The feeling of unease that subject caused was so fuzzy, so confusing to me that I had no desire to go tumbling down the rabbit hole, but my own free will. That bird, though. I had erupted just as he took in a breath to speak, bringing my knees up in my chair and kicking off from the desk to roll away a few feet. practically jumped out of the seat to stomp across a room.

I'd set left a bandit and a finger pointing at the window. Sure enough, my nemesis was picking out its nest and it had built on a tree branch right at the window's edge. You don't like nests? Daniel asked as if there's any possible doubt of how I felt. It's going to have all of its creepy-looking babies right in front of our broadcast room. I put my hands to the glass with an exasperated groan. But even as I knocked my fist against the surface, that shitty little bird did not leave. It just stared at me.

face turned so that one human eye followed my movements. If it's beak of the ability to move in a grin, I'm almost sure it would have been smirking at me. I'm getting rid of it. Hold up. I know it's weird looking, but I'm not going to kill it. No, I'm not killing it. I corrected Daniel. Returning to the desk to hang up my headphones properly.

I leaned against the back of my abandoned chair, basing my co-worker to explain my instructions. I'm going out on the fire scape to grab the nest, and I'm taking out in the woods. won't hurt it will just make it a nest a new spot you need to take the controls while I'm gone though you couldn't wear his headset but that didn't matter so long as he could yeah leaving the deaf guy to the radio

the guys whose ears imploded within themselves whatever you'll be fine by yourself right buddy he's like yeah and then she's downstairs and she just hears like an explosion goes back up and he's just like particleized all over the room you gonna wear his headset but that didn't

matter. So long as he could keep the music running on his own and avoid any lapse of silence while I was gone. Plan would be simple and effective. I still try to wrap my head around this feeling or urgency. I needed to get rid of that nest and it needed to happen immediately.

So to clarify, she's not saying she got nauseous at the phone call because of the contents. It just made her nauseous like supernaturally. Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's not like she heard the woman crying and the graduate mention and she's like, oh, no, that reminds me of this thing.

She just got like a supernatural, the rock appeared in her throat, right? Yeah, I mean, I think. I'm not sure that we have the full scope of that yet. Yeah, I don't think she knew what it meant. I don't think. I had to leave the station in order to get to the fire escape. I know that completely defeats the purpose of the fire escape, but it wasn't worth triggering the alarm just to save a few steps

and explaining my stupid obsession to my boss while disarming it. That involved descending endless clanking, stairs downwards and downwards until I had circled a 50 foot spiral of rusted metal to the cold cement floor. The exit sign no longer glowed, but the door's window shown a tarnished yellow light from the overcast sky outside. Wait, so it's enclosed the staircase is. It's not like a wooden staircase on the outside of the structure. That's what I'm wondering to rusted metal to the cold smith floor i wonder if the coldsman floor is supposed to be uh like the padding like the like you know i mean the landing like it's where yeah yeah that that's what i think the floor is

but she says she gets to an exit sign and there's a window um so does that mean that the fire escape is like a spiral metal staircase that's enclosed the whole way down i wouldn't i wouldn't say it's enclosed though i bet you there's a roof but but maybe i doubt it's enclosed yeah that would be horrifying. It's like a 50-foot coffin to crawl down. Plastrophobic nightmare. When my shoes sank into the long grass, kicking up tiny pebbles in the dry dirt, I felt a sense of immense insignificance. The world felt big and I felt small, suffocating somewhere in the middle of all that vast

and limitless space. It was the first time in over a week I had felt the wind on my skin so directly, and something about standing in the open air failed to feel comforting. I didn't feel freedom. I felt violated, exposed. I felt like a newborn without guidance. I decided to make the job as quick as possible. Secured my flannel around my waist,

holding on to either side of the fire escape as I climbed my way upwards. I spared a lookout into the mountains, those rolling high hills of rock and dirt covered in newly budding trees and evergreens. Looking at the horizon brought me stress. That stress formed gnarled balls sitting in my stomach,

kind of like a stone really I didn't need more of those in my guts okay you feathered fuck once I was at the top panting breathlessly in the absolute throws of exhaustion away from my hand to shoe the bird away for once it actually left that didn't bring me much

comfort it flew away from its nest without panic as if it wasn't leaving because it feared me it was simply moving out of the way to perch elsewhere casually as if to say I'm only moving because I want to I reached out over the metal bars to grab the nest, plucking it off the branch. Now, as much as I hate this bird, and as vocal as I've been about that fact,

I couldn't bring myself to be rough with its nest. I held it with some level of tenderness, but still held my breath anxiously as I peered into the circular web of twigs and discarded animal furs. There were no eggs, but the nest wasn't empty. With a shutter of disgust and every single nerve in my body wanting to get that damn thing away from me as quickly as possible, I threw the nest as far as my arm would let me, wiping my hands on the waist of my shirt

as I watched it fly into the trees. Inside that nest, nestled into the center like beloved, delicate eggs, were four human fingers chewed off from the knuckle. Jesus. Yeah, maybe he just killed the bird. Yeah, smash the fucking bird into smithereens, dude, good Lord. Yeah, that's not a bird anymore.

Get rid of it. They were young, and slim the nails painted in partially shipped red polish so this is like a little girl's fingers it kind of seems like or or could it be the woman in the uh could it be the woman that's been sobbing oh it could be it could be yeah it was then that i heard a slither behind me scraping wet against the metal of the stairs it was a sickening sound that only added to the chill i felt traveling up my arms and neck i turned ready to lock eyes with whatever creature had crawled out of the wood and found a thick, dirt-covered vine that had grown all the way up the rusted beams

and across the first step. I had seen a bird with human eyes, a sink with a human voice, but God forbid, would this plant start personifying itself too? Eager to get off that fire escape and back into the station, I stepped over the muddy green appendage and repaired for my shoe to clank against the second stair. It never hit. Instead, another vine, just as slick and swift as the other, snaked its way underneath my foot, then another and another down at least three more steps. No matter where my foot fell,

it would slide and I'd go crashing down each and every one of those stairs. At least, that's what I thought would happen. As soon as my balance was lost to me, I felt a slimy grip around my ankle. One of the vines grabbing my leg and using an incomprehensible amount of strength to flee my weight away from it. I felt like a fly being swatted with an aggressive hand as if I was the pest in this situation. One moment I was staring down at my feet and the next I was looking at the ground as I began to fall. Fifty feet was a distance I may not have survived. I flailed in some attempt to grab the edge of the stairway but happened to fall with my chest pinned over a bar on one of the spirals right below the top. The breath was knocked out of me, arms gripping the rail

as pain erupted in my shoulders to my elbows from holding up my weight. I kicked my legs upwards, wrapping them around the closest bar I could find until I was clinging to the edge. The endless forest was in front of me, and all I saw was at first, sea of green. That's when I saw movement on the horizon. It was the undulating, swirling, thick clouds of fog, slowly creeping towards the radio station in the town beyond us. And for the first time since I had started working here, I could hear a groan on the wind. It wasn't quite a rumble, like one would expect from thunder, but a low, whale-like moan one

might imagine would echo from the ocean floor. The fog was making that sound Like a living thing with a voice of its own I yelled out some stream of curses Mixed with unintelligible sounds of panic As I used all my strength to pull myself up onto the landing Choosing the stress of sore arms over a long drop I pulled myself up tumbling over the railing

And falling to my stomach on the solid metal As I stood I lost my flannel shirt on a snag And didn't bother to come back for it Even if it was my favorite I half ran half stumbled down the remaining steps skipping over whichever ones I could while the ground below wriggled and moved in my line of sight. The same mud-covered vines that had thrown me off the fire escape were crawling their way out of the ground, all of them twitching and agitation.

I tripped my way through them, making a dash to the door, but when it was finally within my reach, there was no opening it. The door had been covered from bottom to center in a thick layer of vegetation, overgrown as if the forest had swallowed it in a coat of thorns and branches. young miniature trees had sprouted from the ground in that short amount of time it took me to leave and come back their trunks and branches intertwined to keep the door fastened shut i tore my hands at the bark the thorns biting into my skin but with every tug and crack of solid wood the trees would rise and snap back into a place in a stubborn game of tug-of-war the distant groan was closer now wisps of fog surrounded my ankles as it slowly began to cover the ground and grow

but as panicked as I was, I only screamed when I looked back to the door, seeing a darkened face and the whites of eyes staring at me through the window. It was Daniel, knocking on the tarnished yellow glasses, he attempted to force the door open on his side. Get up there! I screamed through the door. Make the emergency broadcasts go upstairs! He stared at me, shaking his head as he tried yet again to bust the door open no avail.

The staying window clouded my face, making my lips impossible to read. I turned around to see the same trees covering the door, had now sprouted at the bottom of the fire escape. The fog was tumbling closer, completely engulfing the trees only a dozen feet away from me. With nowhere to go, I turned back to the door with one last desperate attempt to tear the plants away. I saw Daniel's face, washed out and blank with fear, with both of his hands on the glass, and then as the fog wrapped itself around me in the radio station itself, I couldn't even see an inch in front of my face. Dan disappeared from my view, as did every single thing except for the swirling gray clouds. I don't think I've ever experienced such

silence. There's no wind, no birds, only the sound of my own labored breathing as the air grew thick with the taste of wet soil. Though I had been facing the door, the clouds in front of my eyes made it seem as if I were floating in some endless waste. It was a sea of cold, heavy air that tickled every hair of my arms and all my head. There was that whale light grown again. It was followed by the strangest series of clicks, like a tongue against teeth rapidly popping a no real pattern. I was prepared when it touched me. Oof. I pursed my lips tightly to keep from making the sound as something sharp and thin grazed the raised flesh on the back of my arm. It was followed by another and another, like impossibly long fingers or the legs of a spider toying with my hair and poking at my

arms. It felt threatening, but also curious. So whatever it was patrolling in the fog was trying to figure out what I was or what it could do with me. My eyes were clamped shut in my arms, squeezed tightly around my body. I can't even begin to describe what it's like in your head when something massive, unseen and unidentifiable pokes and prods as if you're its human toy. I was waiting for fangs claws. I thought for sure in that very moment. I was about to be eaten alive by something I would never get the chance to see. My last act on this earth would have been harassing a damn bird. My teeth rattled as I waited for a fate that was certainly grim, but it was surprising when I felt all presence around me suddenly back away. The ground shook once, twice, and then the world went

still again. My eyes cracked open as I watched the swirling gray clouds in front of my vision slowly began to clear. The doorway, as well as the gnarled tree surrounding it, came into view bit by bit. The curling ropes of bark and thorns began to untouch from one another and the spiral back down into the ground as if they were beckoned beneath the dirt. The door was in my side as the fog all but disappeared completely. Well, as it turns out, I didn't die. Shocking, I know. I don't think I ever opened a door so quickly in my life. I rushed inside, slamming it behind me, wasted no time at all sprinting up the stairwell towards the broadcasting room. Pure adrenaline got me at the top in what seemed like an instant

where I found Daniel sitting at the console with a microphone situated in front of his face and the radio line up back on track. It was better late than ever. I breathed a loud, heavy sigh and slumped against the wall, movement catching my gaze at the window. My flannel shirt was still caught on the edge of the fire escape, torn to absolute shreds and waving like a flag of surrender. It was then that I made a solemn oath

That should I ever see a bird's nest near the fire escape again It can stay Hell, I'd throw in a damn welcome party if it would keep this from ever happening again Says afternoon arrived some things have come to light I've gotten more than one angry call from the owner of the network Who claims it took us far too long to sound the announcement For the people downhill in the towns Merry couple last scene taking a walk near the trees

Hasn't come home since the fog passed and of course we made the missing persons report immediately. I've also got a huge pattern of bruises appearing on my chest from the fall and I must say hurts like a bitch. We did call the police about the fingers. They assured us there wasn't a murderer loose in the area though that sounds simpler to deal with.

I was a bit surprised that the police asked for copies of our caller records from earlier in the week and luckily the roles of the station met none of them had been deleted or taped over. The only recording missing was the one Daniel had taken the very moment he lost most of his hearing. Why would our boss delete that after collecting his copies? I overheard whispers of who those fingers may have belonged to.

They say the missing girl, Jennifer, was probably the victim of an animal mauling while wandering in her sleep due to a newly prescribed pill she had only just started taking, a sleeping pill. I decided that when I'm done here, I'm looking at our call records from the last few days. A certain call from a sleepless woman is coming back to me, and I may recognize that phone number if I see it again. I suspect it might match a number. I still have my own personal cell phone. I'll be honest. I hope I'm wrong. There's a lot I need to explain once I know for sure. This is Evelyn from 104.6 FM and I might take a walk in the woods later. I really enjoy how

the mystery keeps kind of building up. Like it's, I don't know if you feel the same, but it's kind of losing its goofier tone more and more as we're starting to shed it a bit and it's more into like there's a mystery Evelyn herself, she knows something about this woman that's disappeared. Why are their fingers in the woods? Why are the police covering up? Why is the boss covering up the phone records? What's on the other end of the line? It's, it's unraveling in pieces. I like it. That that set piece was really good with the fog coming in and the branch is covering up the vines and stuff. You've mentioned the mist earlier. That felt very the mist. Yeah. Well, definitely the, the tenderly finger spider kind of tickling thing. But I will say I really enjoy the, uh,

almost as if the force itself is like coming to life and attacking her like just there's something so creepy about like vegetation growing and attaching itself like very quickly you know it's almost like the forest understands that the radio station is a watch tower and as soon as the watch tower is empty or vulnerable that's its moment to attack yeah exactly well shit on to part five yeah i'm vibing with it this is um this is really cool so far part five So here's a thing. It's dark outside, the force is apparently alive, and you want to go out there looking for a dead body?

Okay. Daniel had been here only a few days and already he was mouthing off to me. He moved fast, I guess. I shot him a look, expression cold, as I sat on the floor and laced up the first of my boots. If those fingers are the only part of her disconnected from the rest, there may not be a dead body. She might still be alive. And so one thing I haven't pointed out about the story.

Kind of honestly because I've been hooked is, you know, the question of why don't they just quit? Why don't they just leave? But I feel like the tone of it where it is so fantastical, it's not really, you know, I feel like in another story, be like, just walk away. But because of how high fantasy it kind of is,

it's like, you know, who cares, right? Why don't they just walk away? I mean, one, I think that it's been established that this stuff has been, Like they have, Evelyn at least has been existing in the weird for so long that it's become normal. And only recently has it been something where it's like, okay,

well, this is a little more out of the comfort. This is more out of my comfort zone of what this weird shit is. But now it's become a thing where I feel like, one, Evelyn is so attached to this job, the kind of cushy nature of it. And then it's become her lifestyle that I think that it cements her there.

But then two, I do think that like we've established too that she's caring. and that she like at this point too if she believes that she can help somebody i think that she will so now i think that so i mean and daniel i think too uh i think he's just a bit of a younger uh ignorant kind of uh kind of character that i think doesn't really realize the severity of the situation is in even though his ear drums fucking imploded and all that stuff yeah yeah after the last time i sat down to write my thoughts and experiences i ended up looking back at all the calls that came through in the last few days.

I wasn't looking for the recordings, but rather the numbers, something that I rarely paid attention to. My heart sank when I saw that my suspicion had been unfortunately correct. The number on our work phone matched the cell phone number I had listed for Jenny, a college friend whom I graduated with a year earlier, although there was a surprise I hadn't quite expected. Jennifer didn't call the station only once, she called twice. The first time to tell me about a bird with human eyes.

that had been keeping her awake for days. The second time, I heard a woman crying and pleading over the phone. That woman was her. Maybe it's true when they say that no one ever sounds like themselves over the phone. I'm going along with you. Dan was turning in his chair ready to get up when I shot him a look of disbelief. No, you're not. I thought I sounded demanding, but he didn't listen for even a moment.

He was already up on his feet, leaning over the console and fiddling with the music lineup. We can't leave the station completely empty. Who are we going to ask to take over for us? A weird ass bird? The toilet ghost? Excuse you, it's the sink, not the toilet. Besides, I have an idea. He wasn't bluffing either.

His idea sounded silly and impossible at first, but the more I molded over in those moments, the more I realized it would work. He told me that we should pre-record all of our content for the night. We'd record the evening weather, the 10 o'clock news, and even a good night message, then put those recordings in the lineup with the rest of the music. No one would know. And if it took much longer than expected, we'd simply set up the broadcast

schedule to continue into the six hour night owl block. I will say to the one thing I was thinking while you're reading that. I was like, well, if the boss shows up, they're fucked. But that's one thing we haven't really talked about, Isaiah is the boss. Who is this? Who is this man? Some guy that knows the rules who like owns this place, but he also does stuff like delete call records that may. Exactly. That's where I'm like that that, that, I'm very. suspicious of that man. But the deleted call record thing, that was kind of fucked up.

It's also insane if like this is a giant like the fog can come in and kill everyone and there's monsters in the woods and stuff like that to be like, I'll just hire some girl to do it. No, I won't explain to her. Maybe I'll get a second guy later. Like that seems like a huge oversight.

Well, sounds like an oversight, but does it, to me, it kind of sounds like it's purposeful. Like he's like, I either need someone who doesn't know what's going on who can do this very mundane task or it's something that he's like, I need someone that will fulfill X in time. You know what I mean? Not sacrificial, but in like just as an example, like, oh, and then we can sacrifice. Like once they, you know, just this person that has been working here for so long, they'll be like a sacrifice. Not saying that's what I'm just saying.

Like it all seems too convenient, I guess. Well, here's the other thing too. If they leave like sure, they may be able to trick the people. listening to the radio station, but I don't think you're going to trick the woods. The woods is going to know there's no one in the town. Exactly. And that's what I'm like, how would they ever pre-record like a fog warning? So are they just

fucking over the whole town? I don't know. Well, they did say, so the fog came last time because there was an expected fog on Thursday. And then that Thursday fog should up. So if there's no fog forecast, I think they're safe from that. But I mean, who knows what else goes on in these woods, you know?

I'm almost picturing the fog is like the evil dead fog that kind of like rolls in very quickly yeah well even the way that they it's just been the way that evelyn described it earlier where it's like oh it moves like it has footsteps like it's a creature roaming it isn't just like oh there's a fog report but i mean maybe it is uh it can be like you know calculated like the weather so anyway i was supposed to leave at 10 danel reminded me he was only a part timer whereas full time took on a whole new meaning for my eternal presence here it's almost nine o'clock already You don't think I'll go overtime if anyone finds out we were dicking around the woods,

do you? There'll be no dicking. But I'll pay the grocery guy extra to bring the donuts if you require compensation. I'm going to believe I was actually going to do this. I'm going to believe I was letting Dan do this. Honestly, I don't know what scared me more. Thought of walking into the woods of night and leaving the station abandoned or the thought of going alone and leaving Dan with the responsibility of taking my place. Now, I'm not saying he's incompetent, but I'm almost sure a wild badger could run across the radio console and operate it just as good as he does. He has a lot to learn is what I mean. We put our plan into motion, according all of our segments, one after the other,

and making a long automatic playlist including those files. With any luck, it would sound just as genuine as live conversation. By the time that was finished and the radio was set to play on its own until just before sunrise, Daniel and I raided the closet for flashlights, water bottles, and a first aid kit just in case. I hoped we wouldn't be needing to reattach any of our fingers, but yesterday's grim findings had brought that possibility up from not worth mentioning to unlikely but could happen.

I've been sending you trying to think of what the story reminds me of. It reminds me of the Kirlian frequency. Curlian, Kirlian, whatever. Which is a series about like a town full of like vampires monsters, but it's from the perspective of a radio host. And then also, isn't that what the plot of Welcome to Nightvale is? it's about a radio broadcast station I think so

it's like a podcast or like a audio show I think I think that's the same concept also for those who are curious like myself you can build they sell prefabricated fire towers

it's like one room all windows they range from 15 to 60,000 that is 100% I'm building a fire tower that's going to be the new podcast set up. Good man. Would you come?

We're going to, I'm going to make a studio and we're only going to record at night and it's going to be horrific. We're only going to record at night. Jesus. I only recorded at night. I have to suffer. That does sound absolutely frightening. My second trip out into the fresh air didn't feel as daunting as the first.

Maybe it was because the fog wasn't set to roll in for a few days or maybe having an important cold drowned out the feeling of insignificance. I fished my phone out of my pocket, looking at the minuscule number of bars in the corner. Out here with a wall of trees all around us in a seemingly endless forest through the mountains, it was dangerous not to have some kind of connection with the outside world. I watched the bars disappear as we continue to walk the wet leaves squeaking under our feet. I don't think I've ever been out here. Not this late at least.

Daniel was flashing his light on the ground, then up to the trees at eye level. I hated when he did that. I had some hidden fear that he'd shine the light up. suddenly illuminates something terrifying. You do know your way around here, don't you? I was grasping at memories. I left town so young and stayed away for so long that any recollection of playing in the woods was lost to me at this point.

However, I did remember returning. There were bits and pieces of a memory in my brain, but it seemed to melt as if some of those thoughts ran like water straight out of my mind. I was here about a year ago, but I can't remember I's past that well. But it's not as if we can't see the radio tower for miles away. Daniel shrugged, nodding his head and accepting that answer. He looked back at our metal and wooden sanctuary, which sat so tall on the hill with a huge tower looming above it that it would be near impossible not to see it from almost anywhere

the side of the forest. I stared forward in the dark, squinting as Daniel moved his light back to get a view of the station. I kept my own flashlight turned off in order to save its battery in case his ray now. But I had to admit his constant tomfoolery with this damn flashlight was going to get on my nerves if he kept it up. Will you stop that? But, dicking around the flashlight.

What about the flashlight? I raised my voice for him, remembering the cotton in his ears. You're dicking around with... Before I could finish that sentence, a sound erupted from in front of us. Even loud enough for Daniel to hear through his bandages. It was the groan of an animal, either aggressive or in defense of itself. Dan whipped back around. His flashlight pointed straight towards the source of the sound while I stopped in my tracks

and stood perfectly still, it was an elk, enormous in size with eyes flowing white at us in the darkness. There's no way it could have gone unheard, leading me to believe that it had been standing there perfectly still all this time. Its antlers clacked against the surrounding trees as it shook its head, stomping its front hooves in the dirt and stone. Then and I both backed up several feet, but the elk didn't charge at us. Rather, once it was finished making noise and stomping about, It turned and stared at us for the longest moment. Its eyes were reflective orbs, but I watched it blink. Its eyelids were to the right and left, meeting vertically like that of a reptile.

Then, with a heavy grunt, it bounded heavily away further into the woods. I noticed between instances of wondering how close I had been to shitting my pants just now, that it ran with a very odd gallop. It had three back legs. one on one side, two on the other. It was a seriously screwed up elk. Is there anything out here that doesn't look like an absolute abomination? Nothing would make me happier than for Dan to get impelled on the elk's antlers.

I say justice for Daniel. He just carries him off into the woods. Justice for Dan the man. Give me one reason he deserves to live. He's a trooper. He showed up. He helped our girl Evelyn. Okay. His job is to stay in the radio tower and alert. He sees the rulebook, same as her. He turns on the siren if the fog shows up. A fog shows up and he's like, I should go downstairs and tap on the glass really hard. He doesn't get points. He doesn't get points for doing his job. He's as curious as a cat. Can't blame Dan the man. I'm going to blame him for a lot of stuff. I bet I could blame anything on him if I wanted to.

Daniel asked in a hoarse whisper His flashlight slowly scanning And search for anything else That might be hiding in the trees and overgrown bushes There was nothing, not even a sound After a few hesitant moments, we were on the move again Though I decided shouting probably wasn't the best decision to make I was looking down at my phone

Watching the bars in the left corner I wouldn't have expected to have any signal out here Strangely, single bar kept flashing and then disappearing, as if it wanted to find a connection. I had no explanation for it, but I didn't think on it too much. All of the weird crap, I'd seen out here a cell phone signal in the woods was the least of my curiosities. But if I could just get one more bar, maybe I could try making a call. How do you know her?

Daniel broke the silence after we were sure no more giant mutated elks were stomping around. The missing girl. I mean, you seemed dead set on finding her. She wasn't my best friend in college. We had a dorm together. We graduated together. We, uh, we lived together for a bit. She was a generous.

She was generous when I needed a place to stay. And now you live in the radio station? Turn my eyes back to my phone, shrugging my shoulders. I acted nonchalant like I didn't give two shits. I actually gave quite a considerable amount of shits. She didn't want me there anymore. I could feel the question in the air. I didn't have to look at Daniel to know what he was thinking.

How badly he wanted to ask why generous best friend would kick someone out of their house. Luckily, before he had a chance to speak and before I needed to think of a new conversation, I saw it. Two bars on my phone. Springing to life and defying all odds against the wild, unenhabitable mountain. I raised my phone up in victory, stopping exactly where I stood for fear of losing the signal. Yes, we have it. We have a signal.

Daniel gave me a confused stare before I had a chance to explain. I was tapping away at my phone, finding Jennifer's phone number among my minuscule list of contacts. I'm calling her. If she's nearby, she can help us find her. Assuming she has a signal on a battery, assuming she has her phone. Daniel was obviously skeptical why a sleepwalking woman, presumably leaving her bed, would take her phone. But I had a theory that Jennifer hadn't been sleepwalking at all. Something had been luring her here.

I just had a feeling. I didn't answer him, whispering a horse, as the phone began to ring in my ear. It rang once, then twice, then in both of my ears. Her tone, basic selection from the library of sounds, was distant but audible in one exposed ear. I lowered my own device, listening to the sound echo from further in the trees. Faint, but there. Daniel turned to the direction of my gaze, flashlight scanning along the ground to find a path of broken twigs and flattened grass trailing off deep into the brush. What are you?

Her phone. That was all I said before I chased the glow of his flashlight on the ground, deciding that one source wasn't enough. I pulled a spare light from the satchel around my shoulder, tapping it against my hand as it flickered to life. The tone stopped ringing, and so I called it again, desperately hoping this wasn't just a trick my ears were playing. I couldn't help but feel some level of paranoia, knowing that this forest could be drawing us further in

with illusions of sound and direction. Perhaps that's exactly what it did to Jennifer. I felt a sense of familiarity with the forest then. I knew this path. I almost felt sick the moment some old, buried memories started to resurface, but not because those memories traumatized me. No, the nausea was part of the memory. I remember the campfire, roaring high in the center of a clearing, one person's distinct voice

nagging that it would burn the trees down if it got any higher. I remember tripping over beer bottles and the sound of shitty guitar music. Some drunk idiot singing off key. Shit, maybe I was the drunk idiot singing off key. That was probably me now that I think about it. I could hear Jenny's voice mingling with the crackling fire and the terrible music

Evelyn lay off you've had enough don't you scream at me you're such an ass to imagine that graduation party is the last time I'd ever seen this place until now damn why did I ever come back

ah Christ heard Daniel yell before I caught sight of what he had found God I wish I hadn't seen it I turned my light to him first catching a glimpse as he staggered back with his eyes glued to the ground in front of him, then I foolishly illuminated the grass below. There was blood soaking every inch of grass and dirt that I could see,

bits of cloth and who knows what else, strewn around the forest floor and a man, the top half of him, at least. Nearby, the bottom half of another person, this one wearing a pair of tacky shorts and walking shoes. Both of them had been separated across the middle. Only one half of their body's thrown down where we could see them. The rest, where was the rest? Those have to be the two people that went missing, right? Yeah, this is a couple that went missing. Yeah, yeah.

I shouldn't have scanned the light upwards, but the sound of creaking branches tempted me. My light followed the trunk, stained all the way up, until it illuminated what happened to be the other halves of the two corpses. They were stuck in the branches by their clothes and their limbs, as if thrown into the air and getting caught wherever they fell. The second body was of a woman, but it wasn't Jennifer. I felt sick. All the shadows and shapes were swirling around in my vision,

pungent smells not only in my nose but on my tongue as the full wave of that terrible scent hit me. I gagged, but before I could turn my full body away from the scene, my light caught something else, the glow of eyes from the trunk of a nearby tree. Let me just say, I've seen some uncomfortable things, merely in the time I've been working out here in the once.

I don't just mean gruesome, terrifying things, but unsettling things, unusual things. As of right now, this takes the cake. We found Jennifer. She was in one piece, as far as I could tell, aside from a hand missing every finger, except, ironically, the middle one. I'd like to think that was some final joke from whatever murdered her,

but that's probably wishful thinking, where humor is realistically non-existent. she was stuffed her limbs twisted to roll her into a human ball inside the hollow trunk of the tree with her stark white face peering through a hole in the bark

eyes were open wide and staring forward making her look like some kind of pale nightmare shell her mouth was wide open filled with dried grass and twigs almost like a bird's nest that's sick man one of her hands was sticking out of the tree the arm likely broken in order to accomplish such a position her hand was tilted palm pointing upwards and a cell phone was sitting in the center flashing its 10% battery warning well that and the two miss calls for me my name was on the screen evelyn followed by an alien emoji it's perfectly appropriate there's not a single damn person on nurse who could convince me

she wasn't positioned that way on purpose. We weren't even friends anymore, but shit, man. I really failed her one last time. At least I'm consistent, I suppose. Daniel and I knew we couldn't stay there. Not only was it a nightmare to behold, but the smell from the blood and bodies on the ground was making both of our stomach's churn.

That's a smell you don't really forget, I don't think. It's been a full day and I still recall it in vivid sensory detail. So we turned back to leave, completely silent. We had nothing to say to one another. Nothing comforting and no energy even to talk about our fears. We were halfway back to the radio tower when Dan finally spoke up. You know, I wanted this job because I thought it would be right up my alley. I thought it'd be good at it.

Maybe make people laugh and smile a bit, but so far it's, it's only been horrifying. He's still wearing like shorts with suspenders in a bow tie in my mind, by the way. Now, while I know that hiring Dan had been none of my responsibility, I still felt a twinge of guilt. He meant well, and his heart had always been in the right place. But he was suffering for it. He had the chance to leave, but chose to come back regardless. Sometimes I wondered if this bizarre, messed up situation was the only exciting thing he had to look forward to, at least until actual death entered the picture. Now he was in too deep.

Both were. Hey, Dan I see him shining the light on my own face Yeah Your mom invited me to a wedding in June Mind if I go with He laughed It was the first time you had heard him laugh like that

Well, ever That didn't say much Considering we had known one another for less than a week But time seems to drag out After you have some freaky shit with someone Matching tuxedos Okay, that's Okay, this is, this is my bear trap.

This next line is my bear trap. I nodded decisively. With plaid bow ties. You know why, Isaiah? Because you are this person. That's why. That's not a bear trap. That's a new thing I'm introducing mirror.

That's one of the worst things you've ever said to me on the show. What do you mean I'm this person? What do you mean? Explain yourself right now. I'm propping up my mirror is what I'm saying. that's my new bear track how is that me how i could just i could see being matching tuxedos and then you would have a plaid bowtie i could see it in heartbeat don't you ever also i feel like you go to more weddings that i've ever heard anyone ever go to yeah because i got like

40 friends who all got married this year and it's and it's i'm at my limit they all get one if they get divorced i'm not going to the next one or whatever i do i do i think that's only fair you get one you get one or and guess what your your spouse dies sucks not coming to the next one you get one no i think a death is a restart that's only fair nope not if you i've been to too many i'm over it i'm over it what do you mean i'm daniel and what you mean i this annoying guy that the moans and like sad is like hums at his own jokes that he laughs at okay are we to believe that so Jennifer's body was cool and all that, especially like the bird's nest in the mouth.

That was awesome. But like, is the implication that all these memories are kind of being hidden from her, like her true connection to, uh, Jennifer and stuff like that. All that's kind of like being seen through a dark glass and she's trying to understand.

I mean, it all feels a bit convenient. Like I, I think that you're on to something. It would be too convenient. to just be like oh and Jennifer she's the one you know what I mean so it seems like so it seems like the forest is

articulating that or it's like basically like revealing these things in these horrible ways and it seems like it's torturing specifically Evelyn because she said earlier she couldn't remember the paths while she was talking to Daniel but then when she hears Jennifer's phone ring she says

I knew this path and she talks about buried memories and she says she gets nauseous but she She's like, oh, no, nausea is the memory. And she remembers the campfire. And she remembers someone being drunk and acting a fool. And then remembers that's herself that she.

So it's like, it's a weird way to remember something. It's almost like she's getting it back in pieces as things become too familiar. Yeah. And I mean, we keep, we've, we're starting to establish the idea too of like her, not her as an unreliable narrator, but like, we obviously she's had some kind of substance abuse in the past. So that also plays a factor of like, oh, man. you know like we're unraveling things in the same time as her but there's also things where i feel like she's either trying to forget or she completely doesn't remember and they're kind of like coming back you know yeah yeah the rest of the walk was quiet we got back to the radio

tower after midnight the late night music block beginning on its automatic run just as we had planned i took the opportunity to take the evening slow no need to rush back to the console or even to that old lumpy masters where i slept daniel was leaving as I expected and wanted him to, but I made an extra effort to stand out in the gravel driveway and tell him goodbye. Could have been emotional about the whole thing, thanking him for saving my life in the fog

or for insisting on going with me to find Jennifer. Instead, I just told him to drive safely and to show up in one piece on Monday. Two pieces at most, so long as it's a small loss, he just pointed to one of his ears and said, I already made my blood sacrifice. I spent a long, long time that night

just sitting cross-legged my chair and looking out the window. I had my headphones on, listening to the music. Almost wanted to turn on my microphone to ask who's out there listening with me, but I'd be too disappointed if nobody called in with an answer. This is Evelyn at 104.6 FM, and I have some advice. Don't treat your friends like shit.

End of part five. Man, it's got to be in reference to Jennifer. Like, yeah, 100%. Yeah, because, I mean, obviously she was probably a junkie and ruined that relationship. And it's probably been weighing on her. She drank a lot. I don't know if that. Would you call that a junkie?

I guess it's not. Maybe just alcoholic, yeah. Yeah. But the, yeah, I mean, just, you know, definitely pissed on someone's kindness and someone that was trying to help, whatever. Yeah. Man, it's insanely feel that we've been reading this for like a little over two hours. It just, it's moving.

and also part six already each time kind of singing in I'm wondering if there's if there's going to be a moment where it starts to curve and this mystery become like I'm wondering if I mean there's multiple seasons so obviously the whole mystery can't be solved but I'm wondering as we're reading into this because we're over

halfway how much will be exactly how much are we actually going to get because I'm I'm just like I'm a little fucking piggy right now I'm like give it to me I want to know which by the way I also have what do you do hey Benny just

started chewing on a gun what are you doing are you insane my gosh he's saying free me I have he's saying he's saying

get me out of here he's saying please kill me I can't do this because you're like I'm gonna give you a little bow tie as you say to him

shut up don't don't bring that voice and mention of no it's so I have the short story pulled up it does say that

book one is contains the events of a council or lonely broadcast station and we're always on the air at 104.6 FM and then other bonus stuff. But it covers this, the other parts in that. Yeah. So confirmation there was something. I had a train of thought that I lost. I guess it's not that important. Oh, just that there's a bunch of side stories about these characters. Like little characters have their own

pieces it looks like in other writings. that Kel has done. Also, they called someone to come get the bodies, right? Well, they didn't say that, but surely. Yeah,

I mean, you would assume so because I was, I was kind of wondering because they were like being a bit too chill about it because I was like, I feel like you guys should be like freaked out and then you should all or at least just like, oh my God, this is horrible.

We need to call somebody. You should be a little. But maybe that's just implied or they're like, I don't know, fuck it. Whatever. There it is. Let them run out there.

I'm not moving that bird nest. again so it's they belong to the woods now that's what that's what i feel like you would do with me if you're like how i die you're like well the forest wanted him i well i'd walk up with my flashlight through the forest i'd see uh your body separated upper half of your face with your upper lip hooked and your bottom lip on the ground and i do and i just turn around and i'd walk away never tell anyone. No, I wouldn't. Yeah, even your wife was like, have you seen Isaiah? Caleb. Nope. Nope. No, I haven't seen anything. You know, you shouldn't be up here, right? This is, this is authorized people only. That's what I'd say. If I was, if I'm, if I'm up in the

broadcast station, you realize that you're not supposed to be here, right? This is. So this is in, this is five years from now when I build a fire watch on my property and you find me dead on, again, in my backyard and then Kayla comes to find you once again at my house and you're like you know you're not supposed to be up here right I would uh you know you're I would uh I would uh I'd leave like bits of uh very good smelling food to attract bears to come and eat your body to just get rid of all the evidence to total so you killed me in this scenario no no no you're still dead but why is it evidence then why is it evidence well because I mean here's there's a murder that was a Freudian slip that was a Freudian slip listen

I wish I would have been the one to do it but I'm one I do uh dang it that's what I say I still I come over across your body and I say darn it okay well thank God I have these host these these twinkies on me and I dropped the twinkies down and then the bear start coming to ooh

when you said that when you said hostess I thought you were saying thank God I have these hosts like you have backup hosts on speed dial if I die in a bear related accident yeah all right you want to start hey bear

do you want to start a podcast I love you bear so does I say to him immediately I love you bear so we have a joke on the show called bear traps I think you're going to love it

I don't like that I don't like that I don't like that I do okay we'll change it just for you bear I love you bear I love you bear

the whole show's just you reading stories and they're like I love you bear I love you bear love you so much thank you sound impressive that he talks honestly that'd be worth of calling that that that be worth listening to the show yeah you have a show with the talking bear but it's like well we read scary stories that's the that's scary he does and then I did oh my god that's kind of scary isn't it

buried he does oh yeah it's a little scary wow bear that's so cool i'm so glad you're here definitely not that other guy my i'm still rotting in the woods like right next to the corner side part six part six benny what do you want if you can't if i let you up my lap you're not going to be chill you're going to freak out i'll start this off in the most direct way possible i'm not who you think i am i work at the radio station perched in the air looking over a forest covered mountain range it's an absolutely bizarre place i've seen animals with human features, some Eldridge Abomination

living in a fog bank and even went partially deaf due to a phone call. On top of all that, my co-worker Evelyn McKinnon just became a murder suspect. Oh. Oh, interesting. Daniel here. That's cool. It's cool that's switched to Daniel's perspective. It's interesting.

That being said, I hate hate that I am now speaking for Daniel. I'm speaking in Daniel's tongue. That's unspeakable to me. She didn't do it. There's no way she could have done it. And I I think everyone in this tiny, superstitious town knows that. I may not have been here long,

but I've been here long enough to know that when something strange happens, people know when to turn their heads and ignore it. The death of a well-respected couple and a promising colleague graduate gets people just a little bit riled up, however. If you've read her post, you probably already know who I am. My name's Daniel Esperanza. I'm a part-timer at the radio station, and right now I'm taking over Evelyn's full-time position

until she gets back from a drive into town. She's not arrested. At least, I don't think she's arrested. The police came by to ask a few things, which is understandable, considering how our tower is less than a mile from the scene. Some things happened, and they took her into town. I haven't heard from her since.

I'm sure you're all wondering a couple of things. First, how did I log into her account? And also, why would I ever choose to work at this backwoods piece of garbage on stilts? The second is a story for another, time. But the first one simple. I called in an anonymous tip to the police last night after I left. It was Evelyn's idea, seeing as there's no way they wouldn't be able to trace the radio tower and I'd have an easier time finding a public phone than she would. But after the police promised to stop by the woods and confirm what she had... But after the police promised to stop by

the woods and confirm what we had found, I stopped in to see that Evelyn had packed up her laptop and was giving it to me for safekeeping, she said. Wait, why didn't they just call and say, hey, that we found a body? Well, I think that they're explaining that. Okay. She told me that this online document she's been keeping wasn't supposed to be found. It's a good idea to get it far away from her just in case they had any questions. So I have her laptop.

She was still logged in and, well, I guess I've got a story worth telling too. Okay, no, they didn't explain that. So why, I feel like, I feel like Evelyn's hiding something. She could be. There's some reason she didn't want to call the police. I don't know. It was early. About 7 o'clock in the morning when I called the anonymous tip

and then rushed back to the radio station and warn Evelyn that there might be visitors. I know. I know his dorky, his goofy eye, sprinted up that staircase and threw open the door and went, Evelyn, we've got company. Evelyn, you're going to want to see this. he's been like she's trying to do the broadcast he spends all day walking up to the window where the bird is

and then turning to her and going um it's right behind me isn't it and then he walks over and he like eat snacks and then it five minutes later um it's right behind me isn't it ah jays away the drive there's daunting this town sits nestled so tightly between a range of mountains on all sides that you'd swear it was donut shaped with the town's people all stuffed in the center it's a winding swirling hazardous path to get out of here, which is why people rarely come and no one ever seems to go. As I followed the path to the edge of the woods, the ground became steeper as I went. There's a natural feeling of heaviness that just sits on top of you as you look up into the trees. The way the mountains raise, it looks like the trees grow miles high, but it's just an illusion

created by the thickness of the forest. It's suffocating, and really no wonder why people seem to get lost so often. Like looking up at a giant sitting at the bottom, of the mountains can make even the strongest humans feel small, puny, and significant. Thankfully, I'm nowhere near the strongest humans, so feeling insignificant is less of a steep drop for me. I understand this isn't the time for self-depreciating jokes, though. Evelyn wasn't on edge when I arrived at the station, though she was surprised to see me. I found her where she usually is, setting in the chair behind the console, staring off into space. I don't think she goes into the details too much,

but anyone who believes she spends her days buzzing around and keeping busy is a bit mistaken. In the week that I've known her, Evelyn spends an almost worrying amount of time in silence, looking tired and even sick. Every day, she looks more and more like the poster child for anemia. When she's not screaming at a bird or answering creepy phone calls, she spends the rest of her day seeming miserable

with a few short intervals of pretending to laugh at my jokes. I know she's faking it as to not disappoint me. I want to tell her that she doesn't have to try so hard. I told her that I called in the tip, and she already seemed prepared. She gave me her laptop and charger, all packed up in a case, and told me to put it in my car. It was then I was noticing the edge I hadn't seen before. She was expressing her anxiety and silence,

eyes avoiding mine and her arms staying close to her sides or crossed over her chest whenever possible. I studied theater, trust me. I know the telltale signs of someone who isn't feeling very confident. Of course he's studied theater. Of course he's a theater kid. That made me turn on Dan a bit. I hate that too.

I study theater. You know what, Dan? Why don't you fucking jump off the top step? You took a theater class in high school. What are you talking about? What if you did a flip and swan dove onto the elk antlers from the top of the... Also, could you... Could you like how he's like, you know, I work for the FBI.

You're a fucking theater major, dude. Yeah, I have a pudding of time waiting, people. It'll be fine. It'll be fine. I assured her, even though I had no idea what we were in for. We didn't do anything. Maybe they won't even bother us. As it turns out, I was wrong about that.

I left the radio tower heading back to the tiny gravel parking lot that ended a long twisting path through the woods. I took the laptop case to my car where I hit it on the floor of the backseat. Underneath a few bags of plastic bottles, I kept forgetting to recycle. Of course. Of course, he's the kind of guy that, like, carries around plastic. And he's like, oh, I'm going to turn this in. No, I'm going to, I'm going to take this to recycling plant guys.

No, no, I'm going to take it there. No, for sure, for sure. Next week, next week. It was a good thing. It did happen then because the glow of headlights at the end of the long, winding gravel road were coming closer. A police car in an ambulance drove right up near my car in the small cramp space just big enough for employees.

You work here. One of the officers asked me. He was a tall, broad-shouldered guy who looked like he could probably pick me up and toss me into the woods like a tree branch. I'm sure that's every guy you've ever encountered, Dan. Yes, sir. I answered without hesitance. Of course he would.

Because you know what? Because he says, he does whatever they tell him. He does whatever. I'm so heated. It didn't matter that Evelyn and I were innocent. Acting suspicious in anyway wasn't a good idea. And it didn't help. helped that. What kind of a statement is that from him? It didn't matter that we were innocent.

I shouldn't act suspicious. Well, if you're innocent, why would you ask? Okay. He's a theater major. Didn't help that. We were already hiding her written evidence. I was just stopping by for a few minutes. Can we help you? Who's we? Asked the second one, female officer. What she lacked in size, she made up for in the most stern, thin-lipped expression I had ever seen. Now, I'm almost 30 years old. That is the most surprising thing I've heard in this whole story. that he's 30. Now, I'm almost 30 years old, and I still felt like I was about to get grounded just for looking at her. Myself and my coworker, you know, Evelyn McKinnon, thought I recognized your voice. Female officer was the first step forward, while the others followed right behind her.

Myers trailed off to see two remaining police officers, as well as their leash canine and two medical responders, passing us to go straight into the woods with all the tools to mark off a crime scene. As part of an ongoing investigation, we're going to have to ask a few questions to the both of you, as well as to ask that you don't go wandering into the woods today. Is that all right? It's fine. It's going fine.

I was thinking to myself. We had nothing to worry about. We weren't criminals. Sorry. We weren't criminals. Still, being face to face with authority, especially when they were just itching to put someone behind bars for a triple homicide was not the most comforting place to be. Of course.

Come right up. I led the police into the radio station, where Evelyn was sitting with her headphones over her ears and fingers adjusting the console controls after her first morning announcement of the day. She didn't even hear the door open, and I hated to startle her. When saying her name didn't catch her attention, I reluctantly reached out a hand to nudge her shoulder, though certainly enough to get her eyes on me at last. Though she jumped so suddenly that I thought she'd lose her headphones in the process. Don't do that. She stopped speaking, words halting in their tracks as her eyes glanced from me to the two office. officer standing by the door.

It wasn't as if she didn't expect their company. Of course he calls it company. We've got company. But she still looked uncomfortable when all four eyes locked on her. Microphones were silenced. The radio was set to automatically run for the next half hour. And the police got to questioning the both of us. It started pretty normal, pretty unassuming and easy to answer.

Did anyone stop by the station in the last two days? Did you happen to see anyone suspicious outside? Has either of you had any contact with the missing individual? Luckily, the answer to all three of these was no. I admit, I was further out of the loop than Evelyn was. She spent all of her time here and had no Jennifer Cook for years, whereas I had never even visited this town before hearing about the job offering. They seemed to pay far more attention to her than they did to me. There is a moment when one of the police pointed out a dark bluish mark peeking out from the edge of Evelyn's neckline.

She put a hand to her chest as if she had forgotten about it until the pain came flooding back the moment her palm touched the spot. the spot. All it took was a pull of the fabric to reveal a small portion of a huge, elongated bruise that stretched across her upper ribs and breastbone. Where'd you get that? Mail officer asked. I could tell Evelyn was taking a moment to think,

realizing that the story of how she had gotten the bruises was very far-fetched. Things were weird around here, but maybe not weird enough to openly admit that sentient vines had tossed her and pinned her against the fire escape. I was out on the fire escape and fell. She admitted, but refused to elaborate any of the stranger details.

when I rolled down the stairs I hit myself hard on one of the handrails they didn't press further but it didn't mean they weren't still keeping those details in their minds it was uncomfortable watching how intently they glared taking in every small detail

I knew it was just part of their job but it felt almost unnecessarily intimidating kind of sounds like I knew it was part of their job but I thought it was a little rude kind of sounds like also they're sending up that she just sounds like a drunk still yeah yeah

it'd be funny if like there's absolutely nothing supernatural happening she just gets hammered and rides this stuff that would actually honestly be so like i fell because there's like there's like a vine that like grabbed me and that's why i fell that's why i went down the stairs and something like touched me and then i walks back up minutes passed and a half hour than an hour and the only time the police weren't asking questions was when evelyn or i tended to our work to keep the radio running they were almost too attentive when it came to making sure everything was going smoothly with the broadcast, but then again, they lived in the town below. There's no way any of the bizarre stuff that happened all around this building didn't get their

attention. Maybe they knew even more than we did about this old radio tower. I think I was the first to see movement in the woods. My breath hitched in a small gas, but I think the police heard me because moments later, they were swiftly marching to the window to see their fellow officers emerging from the forest. Medical team carried back two cloths stretchers covered in white sheets. Two. Only two. Hmm.

We were told to stay in the broadcast room until the police returned. We watched nervously as they exchanged words below us. Silence through the glass. Evelyn said nothing, but she looked alarmed as the men and women below took terms making glances up at our location. Something was wrong here. Evelyn paced back and forth until the police came back upstairs. One of them holding a familiar object, Jennifer's cell phone.

Well, shit. With a glove-clad hand, the female officer held up the device, which was sporting a dangerously low battery and two missed calls from the night before. That phone should have been dead, I thought. And somehow it was kept alive to the entire night just long enough to reveal its secrets. My co-worker's face washed out, paler than ever, when she realized that her name was flashing on the screen. However, what they said next was perhaps even more chilling than all the facts that were laid out in front of us. Ms. McKinnon, it appears you and Jennifer Cook were in contact. Any clues to a whereabouts you're not telling us?

My heart sank, and I knew hers did too. She looked at the two figures in front of us, then at me. Her mouth slightly agape with the beginnings of a question that would have come out. Her whereabouts? Jennifer had been out there. She was cold and dead in the trunk of that tree, and if they found her phone and the other two people, how the hell did they not see her? The only answer I could possibly think of is that she was that she was.

she wasn't there anymore. But if that was true, who or what pulled her out of that tree? I know her. Evelyn's lips trembled. I never seen her look this close to tears. In fact, I didn't know she ever cried. Ever since Jennifer was announced missing, Evelyn had made an effort not to talk about their former friendship.

It was easy for me to forget that she probably was grieving behind the mask of indifference. I was just thinking about her and thought I'd try, but she didn't. I didn't pick up when I tried to call. We haven't talked in over a month and I promise I don't know anything. This time she wasn't lying at all. This new development put us far into the dark as we could possibly get, making me question everything I'd seen the night before. There's no way we both dreamed that up, was there?

No, not when the rest of the scene fell into place. The other two bodies had been collected, but Jennifer had been taken while the others were left behind. I couldn't even begin to think of her reason why. I can't believe I even let it cross my mind, but for a split second, I had the chilling thought that maybe Jennifer had gotten herself out of the tree. There's a lot of weird shit out there in the woods, and I wasn't ready to start worrying about the walking dead, too. Evelyn's answer was honest, but it wasn't good enough for them. Deciding that this wrong place, wrong time situation wasn't satisfactory, Evelyn was given a beckoning gesture of the hand from the female officer whose other hand hovered close to her side.

It wasn't where her gun was placed, but rather the handcuffs. She must have noticed that Evelyn looked down at them because she moved her hand away, almost on cue. We have more questions. We would like to wait until we get to the station to have a real talk. If you, if I don't argue, you won't cuff me? Evelyn finished her thought while peeking out from the hair hanging in her face. The policewoman gazed at her and silently nodded her head. My coworker never did have the most expressive face.

She often looked weary or annoyed, sometimes a bit of both. But this time she looked towards me with a heavy frown and eyes that can only be described as soulful. I could tell she was scared, but not with the type of fear we faced before now, based with impossible things. It was a very realistic dread with no disbelief. It's the saddest thing I'd ever seen. Follow the rules. Okay? Those last thing I heard from Evelyn's lips before she was escorted for questioning.

It's been so long now that I can't help but feel something went wrong. and that maybe she's not coming before the day is done. I want to leave. I want to go find out what happened to Evelyn, but unfortunately, I can't do that. I have to make sure the broadcast never go silent. This is Daniel at 104.6 FM,

and I might be your host for just a little while longer. End of part six into part seven. It's interesting. Now she's basically being blamed for the murder here. I wonder how, uh, makes you kind of think I kind of like that like narrator switch throughout there too

makes you wonder if we're ever going to see Evelyn again uh well it's kind of because she's no longer only point of view it kind of paints the idea of what if she

uh is up to something you know yeah I mean maybe I don't know I'm wondering if it's just a convenient thing that the cops well also them calling the car I don't know it's very odd

like I said the mystery is still up in the air at the moment I'm thinking I kind of I see what your guts going and I agree I don't think that we've heard everything yet it seems too like oh well I got kicked out I think there's something there that we just don't know yet but I'm still don't think

Evelyn is like I don't think guilty party to be clear I don't think she knows either but I think it's like the the memory she's getting of like oh I was here I was drunk or something. She may have something to do with it, but that she may not be privy to. Right.

All right. Well, part seven. Part seven. Snooping through someone's computer is a quick way to make an enemy out of a friend, but I somehow justified my decision. Of all the confusing and traumatic things, Evelyn and I have witnessed, my invasion into her post isn't quite as bad

as, well, murder, was it? Oh, wait. Does that mean she did? I don't know. I'm wondering. if now if they're going to have if they're going to have him basically be like I guess raised suspicion where he's like

oh shit did she do this you know hmm oh okay first I think you all need to know it's been a couple of days now and I haven't heard from my co-worker at all it's almost as if she's dropped off the face of the earth I've been handling this radio station on my own and things haven't been as

weird as they usually are there's no crying from the sink no freaky looking birds outside the window, no fog. However, I was still uneasy, so the police were almost always present on their search in the woods looking for that girl's body. The fact that they couldn't find it, even in the light of day, gave me the sinking feeling that Jennifer was out there somewhere, moved or hidden or maybe devoured. Who knows? I saw the same officer from the day they dragged two bodies out of the woods, taking Evelyn with them. She looked just as stern and just as

unfriendly as before, but at least she allowed me to ask her a question. I simply asked her when and if she expected Evelyn to be done doing her part in the case. I hope my role as the concerned trainee would convince her to give me an estimate on when I might see her again, especially after I pressed that I was having some difficulties adjusting to the sudden full-time position. Guilt tripping a cop isn't something I would advise. Can't be sure of that. She said matter-of-factly. Depends on how well she cooperates. We can't quite question her yet, though. How to let her go in for medical treatment first? She refused to elaborate any further. I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. Evelyn didn't look her healthiest,

but I somehow doubted she would have agreed to a hospital stay in the middle of all this mess. No, I feel there's something else going on. That coupled with all of the unexplainable things we had seen in my curiosity for what she had witnessed on the days I was gone, prompted me to look around her computer whenever I had some free time. Now, I know she was hiding a few things for me. More than a few things, really. Her thoughts seem scattered, documents filled with revisions and half-written bits of her daily experiences, but it still looks like she's avoiding the follow-through on so many thoughts. It was cloudy in the early afternoon as I ate a late lunch,

throwing away half of what was in the fridge that Evelyn hadn't touched, and committed to reading all of her prior post. The stone, the crying woman on the phone, that thing in the fog, almost can't believe how much she was hiding from me. And yet, I have this feeling that too much of this is personal. I should have stopped there, but I didn't. I'm ashamed to admit that my curiosity got the better of me, and I looked at her internet history. It was a lot of this, this website and her post, I mean.

It seems as if she dedicates most of her time to her writing, but there were a couple of other things. Facebook page, notably. The rest looked like the production of boredom, clickbait articles, dump quizzes, a Google search for mountain birds. I told myself, I would visit the Facebook page for just long enough to check my own, not expecting hers to still be open.

You, okay. You can't be like, I went through all of her search history, everything she had. I didn't want to pry on her Facebook page. Like, okay. It's not with the coy attitude. Apparently she hadn't logged herself out at all

because the moment the page finally loaded after a long lapse of inactivity, there were unchecked notifications on the screen. There were so many that it seemed like Evelyn hadn't read through them in weeks, and she posted even less. Much of the content on her profile belonged to other people. Some relatives of hers, maybe a great aunt, asked how you've been, which she never responded to. A young woman tagged her in a post with several others calling for a group hangout sometime, which she didn't react to at all. And then there was an entire library of tagged photos photos other people had taken.

I admit that I smiled at first looking through them. they must have been from last summer because Evelyn's hair was shorter and she had a sunburn across her nose mixing in with some major sun-inducing freckles. There were pictures from a college graduation ceremony featuring her with all of her friends and professors. She was smiling wadly, grinning with all her teeth, looking bright. The last graduation photo was of her and a familiar woman making faces at the camera. Here's Jennifer.

As I continued looking through, I saw Jennifer a lot more often. mostly on photos she had taken. Lynn and I went hiking today, moving day with Evelyn, Evelyn and Jenny, couchlifting champions. Then there was a dark and blurry photo. It was the first of many.

Someone had posted an album tagging Evelyn and at least 15 other people pulled of pictures from the woods. My smile started to disappear. Seeing that force in the blurry faces of strangers, most of them drunk or in clouds of smoke made the photos seem ghostly. Then I saw her again.

Evelyn was in the background of a few, photos, sometimes so small, that I had to pay an awful lot of attention to see her. She was smiling and one or two talking in another, and then one photo in particular chilled me right to my core. Evelyn was at the edge of a group, as if pulled into a photo while passing by, but my coworker was pale, eyes wide and glowing from the reflection of the camera flash, and her face was stuck in a grim look of terror. It was clear something had happened. She had seen something she didn't want to see. I couldn't get away from the photo faster, and so I skipped forward again and again. She was in almost every picture, holding a cup in her hand each time, and I watched

the progression from that scared, tired look to near unconsciousness as two friends were holding her up in the background. Either she was drugged, completely wasted, or both. And then her and Jennifer both disappeared from the remaining photos, leaving no trace behind. I regret lingering so long on the the photos because my online status, or rather, Evelyn's online status, had caught someone's attention. I saw the blip of an instant message and the chat automatically popped at the corner of the screen. Reading her messages was the ultimate betrayal of any kind of privacy, but I couldn't refuse just a small peek. I can't take it. I can't take Dan being like, oh, but I don't want to invade her privacy. Just grow up. Just you're doing it. Be a man. Evelyn, if you're reading this

sometime from now, I hope you don't kill me for this. I scrolled through. It was a person I hadn't seen, though Jennifer was one of the two faces in his profile photo. It didn't matter as he made his purpose as to go between very clearly through a flood of at least 20 unanswered messages over the course of a month. His name was Elijah. April 2nd.

Hey, Lenny. Can we talk? April 5th. Where are you staying? Are you getting help? April 18th. Jen has been asking about you a lot. She really wishes you would unblock her.

April 23rd. Third. Evelyn, please. And just now. Lynn? Hello? As I scrolled upwards, I found the first match that started at all. It was on the first month.

April Fool's Day. Hey, Evelyn. She didn't tell me what happened. I hope you get well soon. But please take it easy from now on. She can't babysit you just to make sure you don't drown in the tub. You know if you need some help. They've got anonymous programs for that, right? You should look into it.

She didn't cares about you, but she preferred you when you were sober. when you were sober. So it sounds like she saw something in the woods that night. Resorted. That traumatized her and she started drinking to deal with it. Yeah, I think. Also, like, this is a very interesting move for the story to pull because I really like they're switching to Dan here because it gives us perspective on a narrator in a way that

as established, our narrator wouldn't give us this information. You would have to come from someone else. But they set up someone previously, so it's a smooth transition. into a new narrator so that we can get like background on the person who's talking and now the story isn't so big it's kind of homed in like it's narrowed its focus down to one person right which is pretty cool i just like it good touch another red bubble there were more messages waiting below i was hesitant still curious as i scrolled downward finding that elijah had left a handful of short aggressive messages just seconds ago answer me where's my girlfriend you know don't you

Evelyn, I know you're reading this. He was typing again, and seconds later, another message appeared. They all die on that mountain. Every single one. I closed out of the browser and slammed the laptop shut as quickly as I possibly could. His word struck me instantly with the sudden fear that if I stayed on the page, I would have seen and read far more than I wanted to. They all die, he said?

Who is they? The people who worked here before? Hikers, climbers? I'm still not sure if his words were a third. read or a concern. I'm no detective, but I'm worried that nothing here is coincidental. I know my coworker will read this and I'm sorry to her in advance, but I just can't pretend that all of this doesn't fit together somehow.

Evelyn, if you're reading this, I hope you can remember what you saw that night in the woods. Could also be the thing that when the fog that was like, that didn't attack her, it like came up and, you know, and like touched her. Touched her back of her arms and stuff. Could be something of like maybe having, she has maybe done something with that creature before to like you know been a part of jenny's death or something and gave you know like some kind of deal or something i hate to say there's a memory that's being hidden yeah yeah there's so there's a memory she's forgetting she might have seen something or became possessed by something or

yeah she's she's more in than she knows yeah or that she's telling us or that she or that we know yeah yeah yeah yeah i was going to post this earlier stopping where i did above but i'm glad i chose not to it's evening now as i put this down and something has happened outside the radio station. I'm realizing the full weight of working around the clock. There's boredom, especially being alone, and a tension that has been putting me on edge. I was fitted for a hearing aid, which I received just a day or two earlier, and somehow being able to hear decently from both ears again made the silence even more daunting.

That and, I've noticed a faint sting in that ear since I came back to the station. I gave the evening news and prepared for another 30-minute music block. time to spare and no real interest in trying to hear any muffled bits of music through the headphones I paced around the room and took a few moments just to peer out the window at the purple glow from the sunset I saw something that caught my attention there was a man out there standing upright but swaying slowly side to side now I would have been suspicious that this was something unnatural considering how many times the woods have messed with both our minds

but I recognized him he worked for a service that brought groceries to the twice a week. Oh, look, look, look who was right. I said that the grocery guy would come back. I mean, that's not really a bear trap or a good call out because of course he'll come back, but I'm still taking those. I take those. He was facing away from me, staring off into the woods.

I watched him intently, hoping he didn't take another step. Those last words Jennifer's boyfriend had sent to Evelyn's messenger ring in my head. They all die on that mountain. Every single one. In hindsight. I did the stupidest thing I ever could have done. I went out there. The thing is, I knew it was a bad idea.

But three people had died in the woods in a matter of days, maybe even hours. I didn't want to witness one more person getting lost and being pulled out in a body bag. I abandoned the broadcast room running down that long, winding staircase to the exit. It was almost impossible to see it, but a very dim shimmer from the outdoor light led me there. When I whipped open the door and ran outside to tell the main. to come back, I saw only one of his feet as he stepped into the darkness between the trees. Already pushing his way through the brush, I was a bit foolish, but I wouldn't say I'm stupid. I didn't follow him into the woods. I yelled at him to come back, but he didn't even seem to

register that I was there. Instead, my eyes dropped to the ground where I saw he had dropped a cardboard box. Why would he make a delivery this late at night? As I stooped to pick it up, I heard the crunch of branches and rustle of leaves. I thought it was him turning back around realizing his mistake it wasn't the grocery guy it was something so much worse i saw jennifer walking out of the woods and making a path towards me only i'm not sure walking was the right word her neck was broken her back was twisted and her legs were snapped in directions that made my skin crawl just hearing the sounds her bones made as she moved one arm was twisted backwards at the shoulder, wrist dangling so loosely I thought it might fall right off. She shambled towards me,

putting weight on whatever parts of her legs would support her, but she looked like a dirt-covered marionette being operated by a puppeteer that had no idea what he was doing. There were twigs, dead leaves, and bits of long grass sticking out of her hair and stuffed into her open mouth. The sound she made was unnatural, like breathless gasping mixed with these low, guttural groans. I couldn't even tell if she was looking at me. Her eyes were milky wide and her head, rolled back and forth loosely on her snapped neck. Without even thinking, I abandoned the box on the ground. Whatever was in there didn't mean a damn thing anymore.

I ran back to the bottom of the tower, practically throwing myself into the building before slamming the door behind me and locking it as fast as I could. I peered out the window. It was a mistake. Jennifer was inches away from the door. Her head snapped back to the front

so that her face was right there in front of me. I don't know how she got there so quickly. and honestly, didn't care. All I wanted in that moment was to get as far away as I could. I ran up the staircase, pure fear and adrenaline pushing me to the top without so much as a second to pause. I didn't care about the grocery guy anymore. Just being locked in the broadcast room was all I wanted.

That in the comforting sunlight. It was still so many, many hours from morning. I locked myself in, getting as far away from that door as I could, avoiding the window for fear that I'd see your shambling up the fire escape, her face I can't get her face out of my head it's almost midnight

as I write this I just got a call on my cell phone and I've never been so relieved to hear someone else's voice when I picked it up

I would have been happy for anyone to answer me just another living breathing human being to talk to Daniel are you there

my heart skipped a beat it was Evelyn she sounded tired but it was her voice without a single doubt where are you I asked her skipping all pleasantry

I think she heard the panic when I spoke. Please. Please, please tell me you're not in jail. They didn't arrest me. I think they wanted to find a reason to, but I'm coming back. I'll be there before six. That's all I can promise. I'll catch up to speed when I see you.

She must have heard me let out the biggest sigh of breath because her next words sounded concerned. Dan, what's wrong? I'm fine. It was a lie, but my nerves weren't ready to have that discussion. Just be careful and get here safe. I will. Okay.

Don't you think that maybe Dan should say something to the effect of. Hey, why don't you wait till daylight and not come when your dead friend's body is shoved up against the door to this building right now? Yeah. Maybe wait that one out. I think, well, one, I think that one, I think he's freaked out. and then two, I think that he's still, I just think that there's like, there's not tension building,

but suspicion building. You know, I think that he wants to know the answers now is what I think. Hunter, if you, if you were like, hey,

can you come here quick? And I'm like, yeah. And you didn't tell me that like Harry's decomposing corpse was going to maul me to death when I got to the building. I would never forgive you. That's okay.

What'd you say? I said, that's okay. Okay. All right. She agreed softly, but I could tell she didn't call just to tell me she was alive and returning. There's a storm coming tomorrow. A really, really shitty one.

High winds, lightning, power outages, maybe. She didn't need to explain why that was a reason to worry. There's an impossible pressure keeping control of this place. And still, I didn't even know why this radio station was the center of every weird thing happening in these mountains. All of a sudden I had a feeling that I hadn't really noticed. noticed until just now. I realized how much this job and this place had changed my life. Evelyn?

Yes. I spared a glance to the window, relieved but surprised that Jennifer wasn't there. However, I did see a small, unnerving sight. Twigs, long grass and bits of dead leaves and hair littered the top of the stairwell, making a path down the steps. How long was she standing there before she disappeared? As soon as we get a couple more part-timers, we're taking a vacation. This is Daniel with 104.6 FM, and I've never been so here for an early morning in my life.

End of part seven. You know, I... That comment at the end, like, we need a vacation. I hope, I wish Jennifer broke down that door and ripped him in half. He is definitely not the most optimistic guy. I'll give you that. I do think, I don't know, I, which I don't know if I'm being bought in too much, but before we get into eight, I legitimately

feel like Evelyn has something. She's done something bad. I think I'm kind of bought into that. Yeah, she's done something. She did something. Someone, Jennifer's spirit or whatever's mad about it. The boyfriend blames her. She's the police that know about supernatural stuff suspects her for some reason. A hundred percent. Yeah. Who knows? Part eight.

Part eight. This is really good. I see why so many people were excited. This feels like a perfect creepcast story. Like, conversational, you know, language is very, like, it keeps the pace up, keeps itself going easy, fun story, you know. Very, very well written. Yeah. I have so much news to tell, and yet I don't really know where to start. First, let me clarify.

This is Evelyn. I returned to the radio station at about 5.45 in the morning. Was it one day ago? Two days ago? I'll be honest. Sometimes I'm not even sure how long I'm here, what day of the week it is anymore. I screamed at Dan for a while and locked him in the bathroom for about 15 minutes before I realized that he was sincerely just trying to be helpful and make sense of things. I still wish he had stayed off my social media, though.

Now I'm adding, putting a 30-year-old man in timeout onto my list of activities I never thought I'd be doing at the workplace. But while I was gone, I saw, heard, and experienced so much that I have to just sit down and tell you everything from start to finish. Left-right game, that's the story this reminds me of. I was thinking that like the wording of it and the style of the setup is similar to one we've read Left Right game like how Bristol would have these kind of conversations where she would she wouldn't dwell too long on how she felt about things. It was mostly action but it gave inside and stuff. That's what this feels similarly spaced to. Oh nice. The storm is on its way and the lights have flickered a few times already due to the winds. I'm typing this as quickly as I

can because well, I'll be honest. I don't know what will happen after I submit this. When the police picked me up from the radio station. They didn't really give the impression that they were questioning me as a suspect of Jennifer's murder. I was never put in handcuffs. I was never put in a cell, but they didn't want me out of their sights until we had a good, long conversation. However, as soon as we arrived, I was inspected a bit too carefully. As a woman in gloves waved a little flashlight in front of my eyes that told me to strip down to my tank top so they could inspect my arms, I immediately had my suspicions. Did they think I was shooting up the radio station? high out of my mind.

It lasted far too long and I had to go through a seemingly unnecessary amount of searches and swabs before I was finally allowed to sit down. All of my items confiscated except for my clothes. When one of the investigators came by to question me in a private room there at the police station, I voiced my concerns. Listen, I'm not a junkie. I told him, perhaps a little bit too aggressively. I thought we were here to talk about my friend.

We are. He sat down on the other end of the table. In contrast to my bitterness, he seemed. seemed far more concerned than he was watchful or judgmental of me. But due to your exposure, we're going to have to get your permission for a full medical exam before we do any of that. What exposure? He seemed hesitant to explain, but I had a feeling that he couldn't just keep it from me.

At the radio station? Is there something dangerous in the air out there? I deserve to know what I'm getting around. Detective shook his head. Nothing like that. I'm not talking about radiation or a gas leak. He folded his hands on the table as he continued. We see a lot of people coming down with illness or sustaining injury outside the town.

And while we can explain it, we've learned to be very thorough when it comes to making sure anyone who spends a considerable amount of time in the woods is safe. I'd only just gotten there, and already I felt confused. I felt as if so much was hidden for me, so much that I wanted to know but wasn't being allowed to understand. The detective didn't say anymore, but instead he slid a piece of paper across the table. We need your permission for a full medical examination and an overnight stay. After we're sure you're in a decent shape, tomorrow we'll talk about your friend. What was I supposed to do?

Refuse. I found it all very strange, but I admit that I was curious how all this fit together with the goings-on at the radio station. It was all seeming like some kind of inside job, or perhaps some knowledge that I hadn't been awarded that everyone else knew about. I allowed them to do the medical exam, taking samples of my blood, and basically everything else they could get their. hands on. I was questioned a lot about the bruising on my chest, but when they had been assured it was from an honest injury and not some disorder in the blood. I was permitted to get a night's rest before being picked up first thing in the morning. I saw the same investigator, a middle-aged man with dark skin. He had a low voice that sounded nice, but I still couldn't shake this feeling

that he wasn't any kind of friend to me. I picked its glue exposed on the frayed edge of my paper hospital bracelet in an attempt to get it off cleanly, but the residue just collected under my fingernails. Evelyn Faye McKinnon. He wasn't asking, but clarifying. He rifled through a stack of papers, and I found myself growing impatient. You were arrested twice

in the last 12 months. DUIs both times. You and your roommate, former roommate, you and your former roommate, Jennifer Cook, were fined one time for domestic distribu- We had a purely verbal argument.

I had just gotten out of the hospital and she started lecturing me about, my point is. The detective spoke with such a piercing tone that I shut my mouth immediately, letting him talk. We had your fingerprints. We matched them to a set of prints on Jennifer Cook's cell phone, which we found a half mile away from your workplace next to a tree filled with blood. She's like, well, that, I can explain that. Yeah. That definitely isn't what it looks. looks like.

I squinted my eyes. Filled was a word I had thought to hear, not unless a tree sap was the subject of conversation. At that point, I think he could sense the question I was about to ask. What do you mean filled with blood? I mean, the tree was oozing several quarts of blood right from a hole in the center of the truck. And Jennifer's cell phone, the one with both her and your fingerprints, was found at the base of it. me an icy stare and i was waiting for a question i was waiting to somehow be blamed i didn't have

anything to do with again he didn't let me finish but his words both comforted and confused me nobody thinks you were the one to hurt her but we need to know what you saw in there anybody anything you may have witnessed we received an anonymous tip saying there was three bodies in the forest and clearly three bodies were not discovered it's very very very very important that we find her body and that we find it soon the urgency in his voice was somewhat shocking to me i imagine jennifer's family would want her remains but the way he looked at me was almost desperate as if finding her body is more important than just for the sake of her loved ones she was in the tree i explained though i knew how insane it would sound

stuffed in the center of it i don't even know how she fit but her face in one arm were sticking out of it she was dead her mouth was stuffed with a bird's nest and that's where she was when we turned and when we turned around and left you know it's slowly and i knew that none of that would help them actually find her it wasn't as if they had to check the entire area probably 10 times over by now anything else yes with a raised eyebrow anyone anything strange out there found myself hesitating what kind of strange was he talking about i had weird stories and sidings oh i had plenty but at what point would it become too crazy to talk about no one else i saw some weird mutated elk though it had like three back legs really fucked up looking

weird eyes too the two other bodies were on the ground and up in the tree and pieces but i mean that was all pieces investigator asked i gave him a quizzical look wondering how he hadn't known the other two people had been split in half. That was a detail that wasn't overlooked so easily. Yes, the man and the woman. They were both cut in half in the middle, and the man's legs and the woman's top half were stuck in the trees, as if they had been tossed in there. It sounds stupid, but that's exactly what it looked like.

He was flipping through his papers again, pulling out photographs and files. I saw only a glimpse, but I recognized the forest floor, grass covered in blood and the colors of the torn fabric of one of the bottom. body's war. With the sigh, he pulled out a photograph in particular and slid it in front of me on the table. It was the scene, obviously, but the photo had been taken far away enough to show the entirety of the area's surroundings. I grimaced as I saw the faraway shapes of two dead individuals and the bloodstained tree now empty where Jennifer would have been. However, I was surprised to see that the limbs of the other tree were completely and utterly bare. There were no sign that the

man's legs nor the woman's head had ever been there they were there i saw the woman's body in her face what she looked as i rattled on the detective stood from his seat fished a cell phone out of his pants pocket dialing a number quickly and turning away from me he spoke in a hushed voice but i could still hear him sounded urgent it wasn't her it wasn't just her there are three of them now he said his free hand rubbing at his forehead with his eyes squinting shut into stress. They were obviously moved, but we can't find her. The others must have already left also.

If that's the case, it's too late. They're part of it. He hung up the phone and I watched him return to his seat. So many questions tumbling over one another in my head. What's going on? I asked him annoyed. A part of what? Why are you asking about fucking animals?

I thought we were looking for Jennifer. It's all important. You don't need to worry. If it's important, I should know. I mean, I work out there. I'm the one giving you all that I know And what the hell was with the medical exam What are we in danger of that no one's telling us about?

I watched the investigator lean back in his chair The expression is calm and cold as it was before He waited for my outburst to end But the look in his eyes had a sharpness to it that spoke of some reluctance As if I were asking too much for him But when I didn't choose to leave He had no choice but to lean forward and speak People go missing

Several sometimes dozens a year on that mountain Sometimes their bodies are found and sometimes they aren't but they never return as themselves but it's not just the people we hire rangers to collect any dead animals they find and get and get them out of those woods but far too often those rangers don't come back either i was silent for a long moment processing his words none of it was making sense yet what happens to them then we can't explain it continued horse whisper but sometimes people have said strange things they've gone for a walk in the woods and that they saw a rabbit with one human ear, maybe a bush with fingers growing in a place

of a few branches. One time an old woman nearly scared her son to death because she tried to coax a deer out of the forest, saying it had her husband's eyes. Her husband had died collapsing on a woodland trail one month earlier. She said he had fused with a deer. I felt sick thinking of those human eyes. Didn't need to make it up for my imagination at all. That bird, that damn bird,

I started to wonder whose eyes those were after all. The detective continued. We don't know what's in the air around here making people see this kind of shit. But all we know is that when the fog season comes around, more people go missing and more weird things start to appear. It's all around that spot too, your radio station. Maybe there's some magnetic disturbance. Maybe there's something under the ground we don't know. You lean closer across the table.

I didn't even try to say a word. I just stared, exhaling through my lips as he looked me straight in the eyes with a look that was dire. One thing we do need to know, though. In the last five years, we've hired 27 different people to speak over that radio. You and Mr. Esperanza, you're 28 and 29. I know the cliche of a heart dropping is overdone and insensible, but I felt it then. My heart wasn't in my chest anymore.

sunk so low, I felt every bit of confidence and safety in my blood disappear all at once. One thing was bothering me, though. One little thing that had been in my head for a while now that I was just now piecing together. We've hired? Didn't avoid the question, but he took a good, long moment to answer. Finally, he shook his head,

singing back down to his chair across for me. The broadcast tower is a lot more than just a radio station. You know that by now. People around here feel safer when they think, about the music and that's what we tried and that's what we're trying to do keeping everyone calm until we know how to get rid of this problem forever it was making more sense to me now why the station was so high off the ground and why it had to be on air at all times whatever signal we sent out wasn't there just for people to enjoy the music was just a mask covering something that served

a more defensive purpose it was a watchtower the broadcast station was never for entertainment but for protection. What would happen if the broadcast just stopped for good? That's with a small hint of fear in my voice. I didn't like to think about it, but I needed to know. Man across from me shrugged his shoulders with a heavy sigh. We don't know, but we never want to find out. The fog has stretched all across the town before,

and we think that potentially it could keep going as far as we let it. And whatever's in that fog has been stealing people away. That married couple that went missing the last time. it crept into town, well, you saw firsthand what happened to them. And when the fog rolls around the next time, we may be seeing them again. He stood up from a seat walking around the table, giving me a heavy pat on the shoulders. I sat there, bring on to mush. You better get back to your station, number 28.

So, I like that scene. I feel like that section did what a lot of stories we read try to do, where they have that scene where the person goes to the investment. or the researcher or the cop and they have the whole like like at the end of the something's wrong with dad's story where it's like well I shouldn't be telling you this but that's a goblin man that came from the ground to blah blah blah you know like it's super uh like they tell way too much there's too many details this feels more twin peaks like she goes down to the station she's like what's going on and the cops like honestly we have no clue like we know it has

something to do with the fog we know people disappear and they don't come back uh there's a lot of deaths um could be radia he doesn't say whatever he's like could be magnetic could be a gas could be we have no idea uh but we know that this works to prevent it it's almost like an honesty of yeah we're doing our best whatever that looks like yeah i think that it's uh i think that it translates to it's a good desperation of like people that are just trying to solve a problem that have no idea how to do that. Yeah, it's not, it's not like they're, well, this is, it's not like she's like, tell me what's going on. And he's like, well, we trapped Cthulhu under the mountain. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. It's like there's, um, he's just like weird stuff's going down. And if you stop what you're

doing, it'll get worse. That's all we know. So I do appreciate that. Um, because there were, there were like, we did, we got some stuff out of that little mentions of like fog shows up. People disappear they come back. The woman who said she saw her husband's eyes in a deer which is cool but it's honestly just it's almost like just more pieces that we've already seen. More little

weird instances happening. So I appreciated that. It also makes sense that the police would be in on it. That morning I took a cab back to the radio station before the sun came up. Before I did I made one brief stop along the way. In the early hours of dawn I walked to Jennifer's house

the same one she had kicked me out of and the same one where her boyfriend Elijah now lived on his own. I didn't knock or ring the doorbell, but I did slip a small piece of paper underneath the door. It was the only printed photo I had of Jennifer, carried around to my wallet next to a photo of my parents. Now it was his. Daniel filled me in when I arrived back to the tower, and after I had a bit of a fit, which may have been a lot of a fit, I tried to fill him in on what I had learned as well. It was a lot to relay a lot for him to understand, but I felt better knowing that he wasn't any more in the dark than I was.

So the people who hired us, not really a network. I finished the idea for him. It's some agency or town government, I don't know. That's why our signal only reaches so far. There's no reason for it to expand. Daniel looked overwhelmed and I didn't blame him. Hell, I wasn't feeling so great about all this either. I went from being stressed about some weird shit to suddenly knowing that a lot of people could

get hurt if we failed at our jobs. I told Daniel about all the other former employees who had gone missing, he was visibly shaken. What happens to them? Do they die? Do they quit? I don't think they quit, Dan. Yeah, Dan. Do you think they, did they get their benefits?

What about, is there a severance package? No, you're fucking idiot. Like what? I don't think, it's like, Dan, what are you talking about? No one's quitting. We shared a silent, solemn moment between us. We didn't say it, but we were both thinking the same thing. How long would we last?

And if we didn't survive, which one would be the first to go? Rumble of thunder interrupted any conversation that may have happened next. Both of us snapped our attention to the window, where the heavy clouds were rolling in across the sky. And the trees furthest in our view had started to sway back and forth from the winds. A flash of lightning cracked through the dim light and was followed by another deep bellow from the sky. That same low, roaring groan that sounded like an angry god. Evelyn, this place has a generator, doesn't it? Yes, as the lights flickered for the first time.

The radio skipped static for a split second as another deep rumble resonated from the mountain. Yes. Where is it? I frowned, giving him an almost apologetic look. Outside. This is number 28 from the 104.6 emergency outpost. Fog advisory is in effect. stay calm, stay safe, stay indoors.

End of part eight into part nine, the finale. The finale. I like to switch at the end, how it goes to like emergency outpost. Yeah. Now recognizing what it is. Number 28. That's pretty sick.

That's pretty cool. Part nine. I understand why this has such phone. Like at the last part, it linked off to R slash 1046 FM. So it has its own subreddit. And I get, this is totally the kind of story

I can see people getting into writing their own scenarios, characters, stuff like that, you know. Yeah, people could lie about what number they are too. I'm number 16 or you know what I mean? Yeah, yeah, yeah. I mean, you could do so much with it. There's so much to run from. Run with so much to run from that too, I guess. All right, well, are you ready for the finale?

Let's do it. Part 9. The forest was alive. Even before the fog came, we could see it moving and wriggling with electric. energy as the thunder roared overhead and lightning cracked at the top of the mountain. I'll admit for a moment, I actually wondered if a forest fire would be preferable. Obviously, death hadn't been enough to keep Jennifer and countless others from coming back in some form.

And so I later decided that setting every strange abomination on fire would only create more dangers for us. I won't beat around the bush. We were scared. We knew enough and had seen enough to know we wouldn't be safe. As the rain poured down and the cables and lines swayed from side to side off the tower, Daniel and I were not only afraid for our own safety, but for everyone else's. This broadcast tower was keeping the town alive.

We were keeping the town alive. An alcoholic and a failed theater actor, who knew? Some would describe this podcast much the same, I would think. I think so. Gladly. Gladly. The lights flickered again, prompting the broadcast to turn to static and skip as I scrambled behind the desk to get the sound going again.

For mere seconds, the waves would go silent, then spring to life again just as a rumble would vibrate underneath the tower. I noticed Daniel Flinch, holding one of his ears just moments after the broadcast came back and static-filled music played again. You heard? I asked him, but he shook his head, stretching out his jaw. No, my ears won't stop ringing, though. I shrugged it away, imagine all those cliche excuses. It's the weather, the pressure, is different up in the mountains, and so on and so on. but he bounced back immediately, marching over to the window to scan his eyes over the dreary-looking forest.

It was hard to see much of anything through the rain, but he squinted to make out shapes on the horizon. There's something moving out there. Far away, but it's getting closer. It's hard to see. I didn't need to see for myself to know what he was looking at. In the midst of the rain and the lightning, the fog would still find a way to roll in. After all, it wasn't really a product of the weather at all. It's more of a living thing, rather an amalgamation of all.

formerly living things on the side of the mountain range i need you to run an emergency broadcast i told him as i pushed away from the console and popped up out of my chair a strong wind whipped past rattling the walls and making the wooden floor boards creak beneath our feet i fell unsteady suddenly worried the old stilts holding us up would give in and we crashed down into the trees below the only thing worse than the fall would be the exposure to the open woods should we even survive the way down the floor rumbled as the building itself were breathing before it settled back into place. I looked at Daniel and he looked back at me. We both knew we'd have to prepare for the worst the storm could do. As he practically fell into the chair, turning on the microphone to broadcast,

a crackling message over the air, I rummished in the storage closet for industrial-sized flashlights and the keys to the generator shed. Now all of the supplies made more sense to me. Backpacks, emergency food rations, first aid kits, flares, fire starting kits. This place was never meant to be a radio station. It was most likely a ranger lookout that had been a doubt adapted into something capable of a large-scale broadcasting. While knocking things out of my way in search of the keys, I found a pack of walkie-talkies and checked them for batteries. Daniel was already done with his announcements by the time I found them

and appeared at my side to snatch one out of my hand. He seemed to be thinking the same thing I was. If the power went out, one of us would have to go out there to turn on the generator. One of us couldn't risk both of our lives with nobody to take the responsibility. Did you start the music again? Daniel nodded. It's going. But the lack of confidence in his voice spoke of a deeper thought.

It was running now, but if the lights continued to flicker, it might not be for much longer. There's nothing else to do but wait. As the fog bounded through the forest, moving the trees with the weight of its eerie inhabitants, could only watch as it engulfed the entire woodland. I had never seen the fog rest at the edge of the forest, but it did this time. Something about the music, rather the signal, kept it from, crossing that line between us and the town further down the road. We unplugged our headsets, letting the music play in the studio for both to hear,

set down at the edge of the window on the floor. It was a call before the storm as we stared at the swaying poles and the wires outside, wondering which one would be the first snap or ended up snagged in a tree. Wait, hold on. So every time they continue to play the music, the fog just stops, right? And the only time it's kept going the previous few times is because the music hasn't been playing for some reason, right? well i think that it's it's not that it stops i think it just or it's not that it stops rolling i think that it just can't bridge that divide for some reason right right like it's like the signal creates

a barrier right yeah of some kind so so the previous two times the first in the first part of the story and the other when dan was controlling it where they didn't have the music playing they just filled the town with the stephen king missed for a couple hours while they figured out what they were doing people just monsters and creatures running around in the fog because they couldn't keep the radio on how many people have they killed well three i guess yeah i mean technically three and possibly more today depending on the generator yeah well that's not their fault the first one was our narrator's fault because she saw the fog and turned down the radio and then when dan was there when she fell over the railing he came down

to look and then the broadcast quit. So, so twice, that's three. They have a kill count of three so far between the two of them. A moment passed, but it was a long and excruciating moment of silence. Dan was the first to break it, as his talkative self almost always was. You want to know what I did before this? He asked, but I knew he'd tell me anyway. I nodded still.

After I graduated with a master's degree in performance art, a master's degree. The only acting job I could get was recording a commercial for, some plumbing service. I record lines in the actual studio talking about toilets for 20 takes and you know it was the worst part. You laugh looking over with a stupid somewhat disheartening grin. They didn't even pick mine. I heard the commercial on the radio in my car and it was someone else completely. Never in my life did I think I'd be legitimately pissed because I wasn't chosen as a spokesperson for a toilet cleaning. You know what? I'm glad. I would have done the same. I'd be like we're not using his lines at all, not one. That actually made me laugh. Even if it was a bittersweet moment

of light hardness, I shrugged my shoulders with an expression of nonchalance. You get good figures you get led down by the radio twice. Chestered to the room around us and Daniels snorted mid chuckle. What about you? Tell me a stupid thing you've done. I was getting over my hate and it's back now. It's back in full full power. I had to think for a moment. Not because I couldn't recall any, but because there was too much to recall. Somehow all my stupid mistakes just ended up sad. I almost died in a bathtub once.

I said chuckling even if it wasn't all that funny. Daniel seemed unsure if you should laugh or not. Okay, now this actually is me and you because there's multiple times on the show where I'm like, oh, here's a little lighthearted whimsy and you're like, yeah, so my grandfather shot my dog trying to kill me. It's like, oh my gosh. I was shit-faced and I felt terrible so I wanted to take a bath. ended up passing out almost the second I got in and Jennifer found me after I had apparently flipped face down

she honestly thought it was a suicide until they got me breathing again and found out I was still just hammered as when I went in that time I laughed but Daniel didn't I even knew it wasn't funny but I was desperate to grab it straw just to find a reason to take it lightly when I saw the severity of the frown on his face my smile disappeared and I suddenly felt like a child being scolded

how long have you been sober I didn't need to question how he knew it was an ongoing thing. After all, he had seen enough of my computer to know most of the truth by now. I filled the tightness in my throat into breath I took and the next was shaky and uneven. My first sober day was the day I came into work a few weeks ago. I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from letting it tremble. Putting it into perspective felt pathetic, reminded me of just how soon it was. The only reason I'm not drunk right now is because the fucking grocery guy only brings

me cheap, shitty iced tea. That time we both laughed, but it didn't last. In a second, amusement turned to tears as I unwittingly felt a sob escape me, both my hands covering my face. As my eyes squeezed shut, I only felt Daniel's hand pat between my shoulders and remained there until I uncovered my face. I refused to let myself cry out loud. Those thoughts and feelings were pushed back down as my eyes returned to the fog at the edge of the forest.

I watched it move and swirl, many eyes and many shapes moving and twitching, as waiting eagerly to be allowed further. The shed was so close to the edge, too close. And I like, so earlier there were the little mentions of her looking sickly. And like, because I kind of forgot about the alcohol thing. And there were mentions of her looking sickly or sad or depressed. And I was like, oh, that must be as a fog taking a toll on her. But no, that's probably just because she's, you know, getting over an addiction.

Yeah, exactly. It's a nice touch. A familiar pair of eyes stared back at us then. Up in the tree, free from the fog, hopping near to tap its beak at the window, it's that damn bird again. I looked at it closer this time. Its eyes were hazel. Now I find myself wondering less where it came from and who it had borrowed those eyes from.

What did you see? I heard Daniel's voice, but didn't process it at first. With a deep breath, I wiped away the tears from my face and turned to him with a, hmm, of confusion. At the graduation party, you were in the woods and you saw something, didn't? the word graduation in itself made my stomach sink i looked away from dan again squinting as i struggled to bring those thoughts forward again somehow just looking for the memory caused an internal pain i didn't know there was anything fucked up about the woods back then i told you that i left here right when i was a little kid my dad died my mom remarried so we moved with we moved

in with him out of town then i came back the week of graduation with a bunch of people i used to know as kids and they all said this woods got creepy since I left. Bits and pieces were still missing from my thought process, but I was piecing them together in the moments I paused and kept silent. It was some terrible puzzles slowly coming into view and made my face turn to a grimace. I wandered oft. Probably because it was loud and everyone was acting like an ass, but out in the woods I heard something.

It was a growl I thought at first. But now that I remember that sound, it was a voice. A low, gravely, painful groan. This animal stepped out of the bushes and I thought for sure it was some kind of cougar or wild dog, but its face. Oh God, it had this face, yellow eyes like a wildcat, but the nose and the mouth were different, human and familiar. He looked at me and I saw his mouth move trying to say something, but all that came out was

this terrible rattle, like it hurt to breathe. it sounded like he was suffering like it took everything he had just to say a single word I ran back to the party and I drank and I drank and I fucking drank it till I couldn't remember that thing's face anymore and it worked for a good long time too but now now that I'm sober

all it took was thinking about it once for it to be stuck in my head again Dan gave me an apologetic look as if he had some reason to feel sorry about it all his hand fell on my back again and he opened his mouth to speak. I'm sure it would have been some great words of wisdom or encouragement, but he never had the chance. There was a flash of lightning and a deafening crack as it struck one of the poles standing around the station. The thunder blended into the sound of the crackling radio for a split second before the lights went down. The sound stopped and we were plunged into a dark,

thick silence. All I could see in the dark were Dan's eyes. Illuminated by the flashes of light as he watched the forest edge. The fog twisted and moved in patterns of rolls, tumbling over itself like a living beast as it crawled towards us. It was almost too dark to see, but my eyes could make out blots of shapes inside the fog, arms, legs, bodies, all of them eager to inhabit the land they have been barred from until now.

The mists swirled around the stilts of the tower, creeping upwards before we had a chance to make a split decision. Daniel turned on his walkie-talkie, testing it by holding it up to his mouth, I could hear the crackle of his voice come through fine, even just a few feet apart. I'll let you know when I've got it going. I told him sternly jumping up to my feet. I was about to push open the fire escape with no hesitation, but I felt a rough hand grabbed the back of my shirt before I had the chance.

Stay in here so you can get the radio going. No. I answered flatly, refusing to follow that order. There was a scowl pulling at the edges of my lips as I glared at him. I wasn't there when you got hurt and I couldn't help Jennifer either. So let me do this. Let me do this. He stared at one another for almost too long,

but I can feel him slowly letting go with my shirt. His arm dropped, giving back my freedom to move, and he nodded his head once in silence. Daniel, if you're reading this, you snooping bastard. Thank you. The door took a heavy burst, but I shoved it open and was surprised for a moment when I didn't hear an alarm.

Of course, it didn't take long to remember that the power out of should take in everything, not just the lights and the radio signal. The fog was already rising, covering the ground and crawling upwards over the sides of the building, It was only moments before I was trapped inside of it. Not sure whether to run for my life or take it slow to stay hidden. There had been no use.

They knew I was there already. I held my flashlight and shaking hands to illuminate the steps of the fire escape. There were no vines, no slimy, mud-covered appendages, and nothing waiting there to trip me. Still, I didn't trust that the fire escape was unoccupied. I could hear a faint clank from the bottom as if something was trying to pull itself up to the open door behind me. The sound in the fog was maddening.

The amalgamates were suffering inside of themselves, parasites eating off of one another and groaning in some constant pain. The ones that didn't moan and cry in their torment were voicing aggressive growls or rattling breaths as they searched through the fog for another living thing to tear apart and out of their collection of stolen bodies. My flashlight caught a glimpse now and again of milky white eyes through the glimmer of rain-soaked skin or fur. I didn't dare look back, but I could hear and feel the crash of weight

against the fire escape as if something was trying to crawl its way up underneath a section as I passed. Once the end of the stairs was in sight, I made it my goal to run to the shed as quickly as possible and lock myself and immediately until the generator would start. The problem would be getting out.

My light caught the end of the step and there I saw what had been making all that noise. A woman's face stared up at me, with dead, pale blue eyes. She was dragging herself. Her upper body struggling to leave the ground and crawl its way up as her lower half was weighing her down. This half of a woman, when I remembered seeing sprawled over the branch of a tree,

was being engulfed in roots and bark. The living plant her corpse had been fused with pushed itself along the ground but clumsily, as if it was too heavy and too scattered in its movements to make any progress. Her arms, however, were still moving and capable of, of grabbing me if I got too close. The worst part was how pleadingly she looked at me, as if the human part of her was begging for a way to get out. I couldn't help but feel that the aggression was fear, but it didn't tug on my heartstrings quite enough to convince me to stop.

I jumped over the edge of the stairs, falling only a couple of feet from the ground and making a straight line to the shed. Keys of my pocket jingled and slipped between my fingers as I tried to find the right one, all the while far too aware of every shadow and every glimmer of eyes. creeping closer. The fog was too thick to see well. My flashlight only served to show me there was nothing directly in front of my eyes, but it was perhaps a blessing that the creatures hunting in the fog were stuck in it just as much as I was. I still sensed that they knew I was there, searching and struggling to catch anything in their grasp. I even heard the shriek of one, like the sound of a whining animal in pain as it was caught in the clutches of another larger and

likely more terrifying beast. I felt the surface of the wood in front of me, whispering words of relief as I patted along the edge of the shed until the door was at my fingertips. A pair of keys were fished from my pocket and my clumsy fingers struggled to swiftly find the one small bit of metal that I needed. Just then I heard a crackle. It was the walkie-talkie connected to my hip, Daniel's voice on the other end. Did you find it yet? I would beat Daniel to death with my bare hands. He's kind of coming at the worst moment. Just sneaking around that you hear the cries, the shrieking. And then it's like, earth to hello it's your best friend earth to captain tom are you there just kill him

just just be like hey everyone he's up there go that way he asked but i felt my stomach tie up and knots when his voice rang out over the silence i wasn't the only one to hear him heavy grunts and stomps of feet like hooves digging into the dirt surrounded me i could hear the shriek of something vaguely avian mixed with a human-like scream and bellowing roars that shook my skull from the inside. I was in a rush to open the door. I'm trying every key as I blindly searched for the right one. Finally, as I prepared to swing the door open, I could feel the vibration in the ground as something heavy and tall landed by my side as if jumping from the tops of the trees. In the blinding fog, I could see brown and gray fur spotted with

blood. It smelled like rotten flesh and mold. Its joints cracking and groaning as it bent down to my level. I could see its eyes in the periphery of my vision. At least, six of them, pale, stained with flecks of jaundish yellow, sitting above an elk-light snout. Its antlers scraped the side of the wood with a terrible jaw-clinching sound. I felt a touch to my back and recognized it immediately. Spider-like appendages that had brushed my arms on the last fog weren't the legs of some giant spider, but this thing's fingers. It breathed in, then out with a rattle, the stench of blood and death was warm against the side of my face. I told Daniel that almost drowning in a bathtub was the stupidest thing I had done. I meant it.

It was the stupidest thing I had done yet. But this day, I changed all of that. I threw the shed door open, stepping out of the way to light the heavy wooden plank, hit the hulking beast beside directly in the nose. Moving quicker than I ever had in my life, I slipped into the shed and jammed the door shut behind me, locking it up tight and throwing anything I could find in front of it, as I heard the beast bellow more in annoyance than in pain. My light shone on the generator, but this thing's so big, it's just going to lift the shed off the ground. Well, yeah, it's huge, right? Just hurl her into the next area code.

Which, by the way, like, good action seeing all that. The monster design sounds sick. Like amalgamations of eyes on like a head and like the woman whose upper half is mixed with the tree she was in and stuff. Very cool. Yeah, I love the, like very, uh, I like that it's, uh, I like that it's, uh, a mixture of the forest itself. Like, that's just a lot of fun. My light shone on the generator, but I had to work quickly.

I felt a tremble in the floor as whatever stood outside knocked against the door so roughly that it caused Dustin to breed a fly into the air. I fumbled with a can of oil, spilling a bit onto my shoes and my pants, but still managing to fill the machine as the thing outside rounded the edge of the shed and only two large steps. It pounded on the roof, big enough and powerful enough, to cause the wooden beams above my head to crack bit by bit. I threw the nearly empty oil cans to the side and tried to find every button and switch in order before the ceiling collapsed under the weight of that thing's fists.

I flipped the first switch, then the second, knocking my fist against it as I impatiently waited to hear it spring to life. Dan! I yelled over the walkie talkie. I've almost got it. You have to get ready to switch the breakers, though. They're downstairs. Go! I heard his voice, but it was muffled and his words weren't making sense over the endless crackle. God, I hoped he heard me.

I felt a pain in the back of my head as a bit of wood from the ceiling fell with another forceful hit. Suddenly, I could see a pale light from above as the foggy sky became visible. A hole had been punched in the ceiling, but in moments, it was blacked out by the multiple eyes of that tall, decaying abomination from the woods. I flipped the last switch and the generator began to rumble. It was a success. Regardless of whether or not I survived to escape this crumbling wooden hazard, the station would have power in moments. I staggered back, clothes and hair smelling like oil, staring up at the pale eyes at the roof with a frightened defiance. The shed rattled, another hard punch or kick hitting it from the side where I stood.

It was enough to push me forward and knocked me onto my hands and knees, but it didn't last. I could hear it before I saw it. The lights outside buzzed as they all came alive one at a time, bathing the entire clearing with the yellow light. That's when I heard my device crackle again. Daniel's voice speaking clearly on the other side I can't get the radio started told me in a panic it's there's not enough power to run it

it won't work it seemed like a failure at first but then I remembered that stupid laminated piece of paper I had been staring at for the last month of my desk rule number one when the radio was down activate the bell oh I completely forgot about that same

wow your call back I was only pissed that he'd be the one to push it after that button had been tempting me since my first day. See the button on the wall? The one behind the case, push it. I shouted back to him sternly. Don't hesitate, just push it. I could hear him on the other end,

fiddling with the case before he did exactly as I said. The next thing I heard was surprising. Nothing. Didn't hear a damn thing. At least not from the speakers on top of the radio tower. Instead, I heard Dan let out a pain to yell and fumble around the room before a small mechanical wine and the clatter followed.

Later, I would learn what that was. It was Dan throwing his hearing aid across the room. It'd be really funny if he hits it and it just explodes. Like, just nukes the whole site. The creatures outside didn't disappear. Rather, they became noisy and their pained and agitated sounds, rumbling past and dragging themselves away in any way they could. They were retreating to the forest,

bothered by some sound that my ears couldn't pick up. A drone, perhaps too high or too low for my ears to hear, was driving them off. The bell, just like every other tool around here, was solely there to control them all along, or rather to control the forest itself. My's disappeared from the hole in the ceiling, and I could hear the hulking creature above me slowly stomp away, resigning itself to return to the mountain. My legs felt like jelly, and my head was pounding, but I still managed to find the door and push my way out into the fresh air again, just as a glimpse of it.

a giant mud-covered hoof disappeared into the tree line. Daniel had propped open the fire escape when I came back, slowly and exhaustively forcing my way to the top. The lights were on, the radio was off, but we were safe for the time being. The first thing my coworker did was pull me into a hug, lifting me a few inches off the ground and saying these profound, thoughtful words to me. You smell like petroleum. I wish I could say that was the last time anything weird has happened here.

But as you can guess, a day or two is past and everything is still bullshit. The sink doesn't cry anymore, but we still get some weird calls. And Dan told me that it rained pebbles the other day. I told him I was pissed off that he didn't collect any for me, like a baby otter. I'm sure things will always be weird around here and there will always be some story to tell. For now, I think I'm going to focus on doing my job and lasting a bit longer than employees 1 through 27. but i'm sure if you don't hear for me dan will be sneaking on my laptop again someday and i could change my password but nah this is evelyn at the 104.6 emergency broadcast station and in case you were

wondering that bird's still out there daniel decided to name it bartholomew i hate bartholomew and that is end of season one of kind of it's into the part one because season one's technically the other parts and stuff so it's in of our season one end of the end of the big first part of uh uh accounts from a lonely broadcast station you know what i liked about this this first rundown of like quote unquote season one blah blah blah is that you got a run through of every rule i thought that was kind of nice it wasn't like a glaring like remember rule two it was like only the one time when it's like oh fuck yeah the bell like i thought that was yeah i forgot about it until the end yeah yeah i always like these stories

you know, like the voodoo shop, Tales from a gas station, all that stuff where it's these little excerpts where it's not necessarily like a full encompassing story but little vignettes of somebody's time in this thing. Like I'm glad it didn't, you know, I'm glad that this season didn't end with like they killed the thing that was in the thing.

You know, they figured it out. Yeah, there was no big win or like moment of like, and we save the city, you know, kind of thing. I will say that I like how it was written in such a way where, like you said, it never gave too much, but it kept calling back and making references

to stuff mentioned earlier. And then I feel like that was a pretty good account from the broadcast station because then I'm reading the stuff that Kel Byron has written afterwards. The future parts go to like

different perspectives within the small town or like different things around the radio station and stuff like that. So it's like, okay, we've told a pretty good story there. Now we can kind of look at it because I was going to say

before I saw that, the one thing I wish we got was maybe some more stuff about what's life like in the town or like what what what about one of the hikers what do they see stuff my immediate like the other accounts give that my immediate first thing was I would love like just one part doesn't need to be a huge thing but if one of the parts was just the guy that delivers the groceries yeah yeah like that'd be a lot of fun which I'm sure there is something out there for that and I'm glad that there's more to it as well but I can see how people can

latch onto this and be like oh yeah I'm number this or that you can kind of like make your own if you wanted to it really leaves it open and i think that's what uh windingus or uh is it kale what's what's what's their name again uh it is kell byron kell byron that's one thing i think kelle did really good is create a universe where it's just like they are writing this specific thing but it's very easy to jump in and i think with this kind of format of like internet open writing and creepy pasta it's fun whenever it's an idea that you know anybody can just kind of hop in and you kind of understand the rules and you can kind of just make just make whatever amalgamation into the woods

or put your own kind of stuff into it. There's also so much like fun little vignette. It's like the guy that delivered groceries. It's just like, yeah, there's just a guy that carries stuff out here. Think about all the stuff he's seen. And we see him once and that's it. And there's little moments like that. There's so much you could go with.

But it's just like, no, for this first part, we're just sticking with these two characters. This is our story. And there will be more about those other people later. That's got to be way more, way more with Daniel too. I mean, I think that like, I think the police or the local government, whatever, it seems like they specifically let certain people in on this job. I mean, it kind of seems like it's like, well, if you're willing to do it, but it just seems like, I don't know.

I'm curious if there's more development of like how and why they let people run this thing. And it seems like I'm curious to see like what's the average length people survive. You know what I mean? Yeah. So who knows? All in all, really fun story, though. I would really, really highly urge people to go and just get some of these, the physical books. I mean, like, we read this parts one through nine.

There is a full novel that's reimagined and contextualized to be a novel. So if you really enjoyed this. Everything we read is just the first part. Then there's the second part, which is titled, We're always on the air at 104.6 FM and some standalone stories. stories. And then like I said, this is going to be a trilogy. So all that stuff is just book one. And then there's book two that has a bunch of other parts. And then there's a book three coming out. So we'll have their stuff linked in the description. Like I said, there's an audio book where they have like Mr. Creepypasta narration and stuff like that. That's like

10 hours long over book one. So there's a ton more content leaked below if this story interests you. Highly recommend you check it out. Yeah. And also, thank you to all the audio listeners that stuck with us today on Spotify and Apple podcast and give us a good rating there and to all the patrons who support this channel and just get all the little bonus content as well. We appreciate you. And for anybody interested, be sure to check out

the website in the description or in the link below. Go to creepcast.org. If you want some merch from us, get some nice fun fabric. We have a lot of cool shirts this time around. I'm stoked. So be sure to check that out. It's a lot of fun stuff. But other than that, I hope you all have a great rest of your week and we will see you

in the next one. Stay creep. stay creeped this was a really good story it would have been better if Dan tried in a dad tragic elk slash fall slash impalement slash explosion incident would have made it cooler

but you know it's good for good for what it was I guess bye I don't know. I'm going to Like... ...time ...you know...

...would... ...so... ...and... ...would... ...and... ...the... ...and... ...and...

...the... ... ! ...and... ... ... I don't know.