CreepCast - The Antichrist Salesman | CreepCast
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Transcript
Discussion (0)
Welcome back to Creepcast.
Today we are reading a story called the Encyclopedia Salesman
by a author that has been requested a lot in the creepcast community
called woundlicker.
I got a,
it won't load on the iPad because creepypasta.com has a bajillion banner ads.
And I've got to open my phone.
And I've got to pull it to the side.
If I had to give.
If I had to pretend I'm on my iPad when I'm on the phone.
If I have to give Creepa pasta.com one note, it's,
Dial it back.
Cool with the banner ads.
But you know what?
I'll take their banner ads over the No Sleep Mods.
That's probably true.
Well, the work stays up.
You just have to find it.
You just have to pilot through,
you have to navigate your story through all the ads,
the black squares and stuff.
There's a guy to give a random shout out.
There's a guy.
Gosh, I'm afraid to go off of my phone
because I'm afraid it will freak out again.
There is a dude on YouTube called
King Turtle.
dash 1010
and he has been for like the past several months
making like top 10 creep cast videos and stuff
King Turtle 1010 King Turtle 1010
and everyone began referring to him as
Tirk
because you know
the hangover
Tunk Brownie
The fuck is Tunk Brownie?
The fuck is Tirk Brownie? Hold on
Yeah sorry
Tunk Brownie
Tunk Brownie
until you can't fail this test
what is that a bit on the channel
hold on
it takes 10 minutes to do anything
over here one second
all right does this
is that a character we did
oh that
yeah that's right
yeah yeah there
there we go okay
so his name's turtle
so everyone just started referring to him as turn
and he's a cool sport goes with it
but he makes like top 10
list for creepcast anyway
on his way here I was listening to a
video he did where he's doing our top 10 funniest bits like he ranked him and one of the ones
he talked about was how much we ate no sleep so he's like you know what just for the laws
I'm going to go read the no sleep rules and he starts reading them and do there's some ones in there
that I had never heard of like your neer because it all has to be from the perspective of who's
going through it right your narrator cannot be a child because children aren't allowed to use
Reddit the minimum age is that true wait so yeah there's a to make a Reddit account you have to
be 13 years old. So if you write a horror story about like a girl in the 1800s who's like
watches her family die, I'm ready to game unless you're 17 years old. Yes. Yeah. Sorry,
you read about your family game murdered, but you're not old enough to have a Reddit account
actually. What about what about that max voyage story we read? I feel like that was from the perspective
of like a 12 year old. Don't they, don't they usually, usually what happens though is they're always like
I'm older now. They're always yeah, I'm older now. I'm looking back on something. There's a catchall or like the
the one, the camping story with the fish people,
that one's like, oh, well, I'm 17,
but I have a younger sibling or something.
If you're 17, you can have a Reddit account.
You can talk about your child.
You can talk about being a child,
but you can't be a child.
But dude, there's some in there.
It's like your story,
your story, if it is from the perspective of a killer,
cannot be about killing,
because it's like distasteful or whatever.
You have to like make a different story.
It can't just be about murder and stuff.
Nina the killer and all the Jeff
the killer ones are on creepy pasta
Probably if I had to get
I mean that also like they spawned
I'll say this I'll say this
And I'll give my piece at least for the
Creepy pasta
Are there moderators
Go ahead and white night
To be the white knight
To be the white knight to the R slash
No Sleep
Mods I will say this
The amount of stuff they probably have to sift through
Is insane and there
There is probably a reason
now these aren't
I think these are dead again
yep
there's probably a reason
that there's these like weird rules
because maybe there's like just a period of time
where something was crazy
I'm sure
yeah I'm sure but we have seen multiple cases
I will never get over that guy's story
we covered about like the mouth
the people with the mouse falling open
that are chasing him and in the end he's in his room writing
and they took it down because not enough happened
that will that
That's a strange.
Well, I mean, you know,
they're moderators.
They're going to have power trips somehow, you know.
Yeah, but it's like he's writing from a condoning.
I'm just saying like, you know.
Just point made.
I don't like it.
And I'd see,
and I do recognize the irony and we read so many no sleep stories
to talk about the no sleep mods.
But what it is is we read horror stories.
And No Sleep is a popular place they're posted.
And it's a shame that it's such a lame place for them to be posted.
Oh, we're reading the,
author stories. We're not reading the moderator stories.
So it would be a different world.
Anyway, we're not touching that today.
Don't know why you got me on that rant.
People have requested this author a lot.
That's right. The mid-roll bans, the mid-roll ads on creepypasta.com,
annoying.
Yeah. So this author, so this author is woundlicker.
He goes by on the creepypasta.com.
He has a ton of stories.
Is that good?
No?
He has a ton of stories.
His real name is Mark Lynch.
And he has, just looking at over a dozen stories on Amazon to pick up.
And a bunch of people...
Does he want to be docs like that?
Mark Lynch?
That's his name on Amazon.
Oh, so it is public.
Yes, yeah.
I didn't dig up his name and then just announce it.
His address is here.
And you can find them most days here at this time.
This is going to be one of those episodes.
I can tell.
He has like over a dozen stories or books that you've,
can pick up on Amazon.
And a bunch of his stories get recommended to us a lot.
People really like a lot of his narratives and characters.
He's done the one we get recommended all the time.
I work at a...
I work at a secret government facility or secret government prison or something like that.
That was a weird time.
He did that one?
Yeah, we never read it.
There was also another one that was like, I work at a museum for the rich and powerful or something.
That one's not him.
That's a different one we have here, March.
Yeah. There's a lot of eye work.
Yeah, well, again, it's no sleep.
So it's like, it has to be you
talking about something to happen
to you, yeah.
And we'll all pretend like,
we know, it's great. Anyway.
But that's
kind of the formula with a lot of them.
But I'm trying to think,
wasn't there another big one people had suggested
that he wrote?
Here's out of it right now.
I think he's looking it up.
whenever people recommend these authors and stuff,
do you think it's because they have like,
oh, I used to read this person back in the day.
Is that usual while the hype is there?
Or do you think that it's,
how many Creepcast people that are listening
do you think are like going through
and looking at some of these old classics?
I think a lot of them.
I think so, too.
I was a little surprised at first,
but now seeing a lot of the comments,
especially on the Reddit and stuff.
People are reading these constantly.
They're recommending a ton to us,
especially with tells from the creeps.
There's a whole community of people over there
just posting all the time
and talking around it and stuff like that.
so I'd say a lot, especially here, like, we get a bunch of stuff recommending wound liquor to us,
and this story we're about to read was written in 2024.
I like that.
So this is since the podcast.
Yeah, yeah.
So.
I like whenever people are, like, we get a nice newer story.
Mm-hmm.
Something recent.
You know, it's nice living in the early 2010s, mid-2010s, but let's bring it back a little bit.
Let's make it a little more recent.
When did we start the podcast?
2024
Was it November of 24?
Or was it the year before?
It was the first of November of 23.
It might have been November of 23.
And then it was, yeah, you started.
Yeah.
What were you about to say, Harry?
There is a story called the Museum of Humanities Final War.
Maybe that's what I was.
There was definitely when I worked at a museum for the rich and famous.
That's also requested a lot, too.
That's on my list.
Anyways, wound liquor.
Woon liquor. So, yeah.
Woonlicker, also known as Mark Lynch, has a ton of stuff.
So if you're interested, all of his stuff will be linked in the description.
He just released a book this year.
He did just release a book this year, yes.
What's it called?
It's a novella called...
It's a novella called...
Broken Road?
Something like that.
I think it's called Cursed Road.
Hold on. I thought of it.
The Cursed Florida.
The Cursed...
The...
cursed border.
A novella called the cursed border.
It came out this year.
And he also has a bunch of other work.
So if you're interested in the story today,
there is more to read from him.
Yeah,
support the author.
Go grab the book.
And we'll also have like social pages
and writing pages and stuff like that linked below as well.
That's right.
Also, do you like Patreon?
Well, we're there.
If you want to get some extra content,
feel free to go over to patreon.com
slash creepcast.
It does help support the channel.
So thank you.
Also, if you're listening to this on
Spotify, Apple Podcast, or anywhere you can listen to a podcast.
Please give us a nice rating.
It helps us out greatly.
Ready?
I am ready.
So let's see what the encyclopedia salesman has to offer.
This is anything that's the story.
This is just creepypasta.com.
When you scroll to the top,
occult, magic, witchcraft, curse book, demons, witch,
witch, hell, internet, killers, witchcraft, mystery, witchcraft mystery.
I got it, thank you.
I can't claim I was at a low point in my life when the salesman came knocking on my door.
It'd be easy to say I was desperate and emotionally vulnerable,
therefore fell a foul of his dark powers.
It's true that I wasn't entirely satisfied with my life.
I had a decent job in a nice home,
having inherited a decent amount of money after my mother passed.
score. Did you say score?
Score.
See, the way you phrased it at first may it sound like I thought you were saying that you were going to score with this guy's mom now that.
No, she's dead.
No, I was saying that score is in.
Mom passed left you a big old bag of money.
Thanks, Mommy.
Are you waiting on that to happen?
My mom does that be money.
I am waiting for her to pass, though.
One of these days, I'm going to get a call or a message that she drowned in the crick.
I want to say, God bless her.
Aruba, Jamaica.
I miss my mom, of course,
but I dealt with my grief as best as I could and moved on.
And relationships were always a challenge for me.
I'd had girlfriends, but never married and had no children.
Hell, I don't really have any close friends.
Plenty of acquaintances, but no one I could trust with my inner thoughts and dreams.
Can I just say that this is deep?
We're getting him again.
This is the third.
same guy. The third story, no matter what, no matter, I don't give a fuck how this is or whatever
happens next. No matter what, if it, if the next story starts with some mopey ass son of a bitch
being like, oh, I don't got any friends. I'm a bit of a loner. I'm, I'm, I'm, where the show's done.
How do you think they ended up on privypasa.com? I think there's a lot of lonely sons of
bitches writing stories. I mean, probably. I'm not going to say no, but it's also weird that they
all enter all their stories with, I don't really have any friends. I only have any friends. I only have any
friends. Haven't really had a girlfriend either.
So that character's
name from now on needs to be Jack
because that was his name. That was the first one, right?
A billion times in the first one, yeah. Jack.
So this Jack archetype
we've seen. Jack is the in-cell guy
who's like rubbing his arm like this.
I don't know.
I guess. I guess I just
never really had friends.
I don't know what,
I don't know what guys like you would want
with a fool like me.
Guys, you guys want to play hacky sack?
You guys want to give a sack of
hacky somewhere. You guys want to hack my sack?
Yeah.
Do you want to go down...
Do you want to go down to Famberger?
You guys want to go to Fanburg?
That's it. So, Jack
is 100% the kind of guy.
I think Jack's are... Wait. That ironically
enjoys Famberger. But people might be upset
because they think a lot of people associate that archetype with
David King. No.
Completely different. Those are two different characters.
Would you not agree?
Right.
He said people associate that with David King.
David King is...
He's like, oh, well...
No, no, no, no.
David King's like the anime ninja...
Also, to be fair, David King's very confident.
Oh, absolutely.
Yeah, Jack is not.
Jack is like the...
Some guys get all the luck.
David King is like, a woman would...
Any woman would be overwhelmed with my prowess of de-feminine species.
That'd be a David King thing.
But a Jack thing would be like a...
Wait, a douche does what?
That's Jack.
That's what they were calling me.
Yeah.
What does heavy flow mean?
Someone's like, you gotta leave the store.
Tampax, is that like a Power Ranger enemy?
Sort of.
Extra large.
It must be huge down there.
Can you imagine?
Can you imagine?
You know what's fucked up.
That definitely has happened.
No way, babe.
Yeah.
He pretended to get an argument with his girlfriend.
He guys probably heard me argue with my girlfriend.
Yeah.
He's by himself in the aisle.
Holding three boxes of heavy flow tampacks boxes.
I guess I'm going to pay for these again.
That's, now that's a terrifying character.
A guy that goes to Walgreens and buys tampons.
You know what's crazy.
Does it seem like he's buying them for a woman?
It's crazy.
I have no idea how a tampon works.
I know what they do,
but I don't know how it's like what kind of contraption it is.
I don't know how it works.
Do we need to have a talk?
I don't think that's.
Is that odd for a boy not to know for a little boy,
to not know how a tampon works.
Do you know how tampon works, Harry?
I guess I know the function.
It comes in a plastic wrap.
I know you go up there to suck up with all the stuff,
all the goopy goop, which is a heavy flow
where they put extra cotton on the string, whatever.
But I was going to say the whole,
you rip off the package, whatever,
and then there's a plastic tube.
So, all right,
PC, throw it a little PC right now.
See, I like, I like the diva cup.
And I say, don't wash ladies.
It's like a, wash it.
It's so that plastic thing is called an applicator.
And it's like a syringe.
And you insert the large part near the front.
And then you push in on the syringe.
And it goes up in there.
And then the strings hang out.
And you pull it out by the strings.
That's so funny.
That's awesome.
I like how every time you're done with your tampon,
it's like being in a Victorian-style tub and you take out the,
and the drain goes.
I can't do it.
There it is.
That's cool, man.
Also, I feel like we could probably update that.
I don't know how you would.
I think the cup is awesome.
Just don't wash the cup, ladies, is all I got to say.
That's a feeling that's good.
You let it build up on there.
There's got to be something powerful growing on it.
It's like the point whenever we eat, the placenta.
That's supposed to be good for you too.
Don't.
Those can't be construed as the same two things.
They're not.
They come from kind of the same area.
They do.
It was like health class.
Creep guys health class.
There you go.
Yeah, something like that.
For all you seven sisters out there,
you can learn about feminine hygiene.
Yeah,
exactly.
From two grown men.
The next we're going to do is we're going to teach people how to put a condom on.
No.
We're not going to say.
Magnum is too big.
Throw those away.
What would happen if you put a tampon up your butt hole?
Would it absorb anything?
Would that do anything?
Would that clean you out?
Would that be good for?
for your butt? I mean, what?
I don't, actually, I don't know.
I'm at an impasse. There's nothing I can say that we'll
my doctor legitimately told me
that I was like a dog. I was like a dog.
My anal glands, they leak, and they're
fucking disgusting. If I put it, if I put it. Oh my gosh.
Okay. You're like a dog.
Well, he didn't say I was like a dog.
He said, he said, he said similar.
Isolation never truly
bothered me.
Do we feel like Jack is, uh, where's my hug type of guy?
No, after a while.
Hey.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Hey, where's my hug?
I feel like he is after a while.
What Jack asked, could his butto get cleaner if he used to tampon in his buttle?
You know who would ask that?
Who?
Bamargera, Edgar Allan Poe.
That's the character we have that would ask that.
I'm going to put a tampon on my bottle.
Yeah, okay.
It cleans it out, Phil.
No, I feel like Jack's a very like, huh.
well, you know,
be sure to be safe out there, ladies,
blah, blah, blah.
But then like the hug thing would come around later.
I feel like the Where's My Hug guy is too confident for a Jack.
Oh, I disagree.
I feel like it's,
I disagree.
Where's my hug guy?
That's the most insecure person, you know.
Insecure, but confident.
Where's my hug?
Confident of us to touch someone.
Them pushing those words out took,
it was moving a mountain.
But they pushed it out.
Pushing what out?
Yeah, yeah, you're saying it was a big effort to do that, yeah.
You want to start from the top?
No.
No, I don't.
Where are we at?
What happened?
So he's a loser and what?
Where's the third paragraph?
Where is it still the social isolation?
Okay.
Still, the social isolation never truly bothered me.
Since childhood, I'd always been an introvert and content to keep my own company.
It was more than that.
I always felt that I was different from other people.
An entity who lived amongst humanity.
wasn't truly with them.
I sense there was something within me
it wasn't quite natural.
My, my God.
That,
wow.
Welcome to the jungle.
I'm really just,
you're gonna die.
Just any time, it's such a pick-me line,
I always felt that I was different from other people,
an entity who lived amongst humanity.
What are you talking about?
What are you mean?
Look, man.
It's in the air.
I knew this was coming.
All right.
This was,
I mean,
this has been a day for the,
this has been a rough protagonist day.
Loner's outcast.
Has it,
I feel like it has,
this just feels like very back to back.
It is.
We haven't had that many.
Usually it's guys who are.
Yeah,
this is on exit too.
This was not the original spread of stories.
No.
Yeah.
Hmm.
But here we are.
Encyclopedia.
I'm still wait for the encyclopedias a show.
up.
An entity among
humanity.
Like a human?
Sure.
I'll tell you this.
Where we're at right now
is we're playing
blackjack
and we've got both of our cards
and they add up to 14.
Yeah.
And we don't know
what the dealer has yet.
Oh no.
The dealer has an ace
and it's saying insurance
and we're like this.
We're not there.
I'll let you know
when the dealer has an ace.
Right now, we have a 14, which means we're not doing hot.
No.
So the only hope is that this fails in a direction that works for us.
Which is why we want to thank our sponsor today, which is Draft Kings.
Yeah, that's the day that when we start doing that in like AI ads and stuff like that.
Oh, brother.
They got us.
The day you die, I hope you realize that I'm going to make an AI copy of you.
Really, Isaiah?
And I'm going to give him like an accent.
That does talk like cry as a hunter.
Please tell me more about the tampon in the butthole.
That would actually be such a funny bit if like you go into a psychosis and recreate me,
but it's like all these passive aggressive additions.
The show has 7,000 views for episode.
I think that people would be more interesting because they're like always going through it.
You know, this is his way of coping.
Oh, so it's petty views now.
Yeah, it's petty views now.
but the AI me is like a very
like voodoo doll
level me that you have exaggerated
like the lips are literally like this big
and talks in like an Italian accent
that no one can understand
and like yep Isaiah nothing's changed
I have a banjo
these are all things that are pretty real as it is
I'm sunburnt all the time
it's true beat red
I'll tell you when you get sun
you motherfucker.
You broil.
I can tell you that right now.
I got sunburnt the other day and it was rough.
It looked like a lobster.
Got that hot ass light on you too.
It's just like this big gleaming hot spot on your face.
I do want you to know that people are watching.
Who cares about a story?
I do want you to know that I don't think anyone has ever made a dig at me in my life that has
stuck around to the degree the lips thing has.
How's that a dig?
Just you talking about how fat my lips are.
I can't remember the last normal piece of art someone's made
or comment they've made about me.
It's got to the point where like someone was posting like a list of my favorite
YouTubers and this is not messed up it.
It was like 20 YouTubers and they were like,
PewDie Pie, Pop a meat.
And then for one of them, they drew lips.
no phrasing of
Wendigoon, no talking
and in the comments
they were just talking about Wendigoon
everyone saw that
and without explicitly
saying what it was
they all agreed
at the same level
if you look me up anywhere now
the lips are one of the
first things that shows up
and sometimes the level of care
people will put to it too
like it won't just
you think they just be like
oh I make his lips big
they will add like texture
And you tell, like, there's effort that goes into the depiction.
Yeah, it's, I'm trying to think why I keep seeing recently that I really like.
Are you strolling through all the different lip pictures of me right now?
There's a lot of them.
But the one I really liked was it's like a still for Monster House, but they blow up that guy's lips.
Oh, I've seen it.
Don't worry.
All right.
Well, let's fucking quit making, quit doing side tangents here.
Let's fucking get this thing going.
For a long time.
I believe this feeling was a form of mental illness or the result of some.
What?
What, you're not going to spit take?
Really?
On the show.
I had a sneeze.
That wasn't me laughing.
Uh-huh.
I had a sneeze.
Sure.
For a long time,
I believe this feeling was a form of mental illness.
He's got to sneeze again.
It's decided.
Okay.
I said mental illness.
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Their link will be in the description, and we are now back to the episode.
Or the result of some kind of repressed childhood trauma.
There was so much my mother hadn't told me about my background.
In the end, it was a salesman who told me the truth about my heritage.
For better or for worse, Pandora's box has been opened in my life has changed forever.
My story spans many generations and links
I just keep thinking about dropping mental illness
randomly
My story spans many generations and links are
mortal world with realms beyond human comprehension
But for me
We're like what what is happening
I don't know man
Many generations and links are mortal world
With realms beyond human comprehension
Isn't this called the encyclopedia?
salesman?
Like,
he's like,
I'm alone.
But my life is so twisted and diabolical.
Every time I read a sentence,
so I'm like,
what did I just say?
I feel like I,
I feel like I'm reading like a fucking
shell silverstein poem
where the sidewalk ends or some shit.
But for me,
it all began on one quiet Saturday afternoon
when the enigmatic salesman came to my front door.
I only vaguely recall what I was doing on that fateful day.
To the best of my recollection,
I was searching for holiday deals.
on my laptop and sipping on it.
I just like I only vaguely recall
what was doing and he was just looking at
he was looking at coupon deals online drinking a beer.
He's like I can only vaguely recall
what I was doing on my side.
He remembers the chair, the laptop, the deal, the beer.
I was searching for holiday deals
in my laptop and sipping on a cold beer
while a football match playered in the background.
Yeah, that's most specific.
I mean, it sounds like you knew exactly what you were doing.
Sounds like you remember quite a lot.
I only vaguely remember what I was doing that day.
It's about 8.45 in the morning.
And I was sick of myself breakfast with the tune of Rachel Harles.
She's time of money.
Do you remember the annoyance I felt when I heard the loud banging on my solid oak door?
Loud enough to be heard over the television and inside of my living room.
Saturday afternoon was my time
and I wasn't keen on receiving visitors
especially unexpected ones
I have a ringed doorbell installed
but the visitor chose not to use it
instead banging on my door with an unnecessary force
shook my head in irritation as I opened the app of my phone
only to discover that I couldn't access to camera feed
I suppose I should have been concerned by this sequence of events
but in that moment I was more angry than anything else
particularly as the knocking continued and increased in volume.
Put my laptop down, paused the match, got up onto my feet.
Stomping along the corridor as the knocking continued, and I shouted,
Alright, I'm coming, damn it.
I was still furious as I twisted the handle and opened the door,
preparing to give the unwanted visitor a peace of my mind.
But all my anger just melted away as soon as I cast my eyes upon him.
It's difficult for me to explain the impact of seeing the salesman
for the first time.
He was not a particularly attractive
or attention-grabbing individual.
In fact, he took the appearance of a small
and physically meek elderly man.
His body stooped over, his hair white,
and skin wrinkled.
He wore a musky-smelling tweed suit and bow tie
and propped himself up with the walking stick
in one hand whilst carrying a leather briefcase in the other.
My visitors supported a disarming,
but somehow unnerving smile on his crusty lips.
and his brown eyes were lit up with the passion and energy of a much younger man.
I didn't find him threatening at first glance.
Far from it.
Before the salesman even spoke a word,
I found myself at ease in his presence
and was no longer annoyed over his intrusion upon my afternoon.
I never met the man before,
and yet he seemed very familiar to me,
like he was a long-lost relative
who'd suddenly and unexpectedly walked back into my life.
I struggle to find the words to address the old man,
eventually stuttering my greeting.
Hello, can I help you?
Visitor Small Wydened as he spoke in an amicable yet somehow chilling voice.
Good afternoon, sir. It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.
He held out his bony hand, which I took after only a second's hesitation.
I expected his palm to be ice cold and so was surprised by the warmth of his palm,
feeling like a surge of energy had passed from his body to mine.
My name is Mr. Black.
he said in the way of introduction
I'm a purveyor of rare books and encyclopedias
I believe my products would be of great interest
to an intelligent and open-minded gentleman
such as yourself
if you have the time I would love to come inside
and tell you more
so is this Joe Black
does this meet Joe Black?
That's what I was ordered
You remember the scene from there
where he's speaking
What did you type in for that
What's your search history?
What?
Show Harry right now.
What are you doing?
What do you talk?
What?
I can't see it.
I can't describe it on camera.
There's no way I can say it.
What?
It's fine.
Do a charades.
Do a charades.
No.
No.
No.
No.
Why did you type that in?
So have you been giggling about over there?
Why not type it in?
He's just looking at pictures of buff black guys.
His name was Mr. Black.
Did you type in Mr. Black and that came up?
Yeah.
Okay.
Well,
do you remember the part in Meet Joe Black where they're talking to,
I think it's the Jamaican woman,
and it's Brad Pitt doing like the...
He does the Jamaican accent.
That's so funny.
Yeah.
That's the funniest, one of the funniest serious movie scenes,
I think I've ever seen.
That's the Grim Reaper, by the way.
I know.
him doing that voice
that's my Grim Reaper, him doing that voice
to me. To be fair though, I've always thought that Grim Ruper
has a Jamaican accent,
Rastafarian accent, ever since Grosvenius
of Billy and Mandy. That's true.
And it works so well. It does work there.
It does. It really does. I love it.
My hand was still in his
as I looked into his deep brown eyes,
seeing a spark of malice in them
for the first time. I experienced
a wave of emotions in that moment,
curiosity and wonder, but
also apprehension and more than
hint of fear. I don't know how exactly, but I realized that the decision I made in the next moment
define the rest of my life. I could tell the mystery man to leave and go back to my quiet life
of ignorance. On the other hand, I could invite him inside and hear what he had to say. Of course,
I chose the latter. Sure. Come on in. The salesman, Mr. Black, or whoever he really was,
released my hand, continuing to smile as he nodded his head and walked across the threshold.
I moved to one side, allowing him to pass and watching as he slowly marched down the wood-floored corridor.
His walking stick, clicking as he went.
I meant to call out to him and tell my visitor where to go, but bizarrely,
seemed like he already knew his way around my home, so he immediately walked into the living room,
leaving me to follow him inside.
Now, before I continue my account, I should explain a couple of things.
First of all, I knew very well that Mr. Black wasn't an encyclopedia salesman.
Apart from anything else, the profession is obsolete in this modern age of online shopping and access to unlimited digital information.
Yeah, well, I wouldn't say that necessarily says he's not one.
Just an old guy who may be bad at business.
It's kind of like, first off, he would not be an encyclopedia salesman because I have Wikipedia.
I don't think I've ever seen.
When was the whole like globe salesman?
was it just 50s mostly
probably to 70s I'd say
it depends on the thing
I mean there's
why don't 70s
they're much less
but they're still like Tupperware
yeah
parties and stuff like that
yeah
one of the best documentary
now episodes
oh yeah
with Glosey Ellsman
so good
should have been a firefighter like my dad
I love it
he says uh
I could see a stack of smoke
from four miles away
it's like yeah a lot of people
can do that
what are you talking about
this documentary now episode
it's just really funny
it's so good
Secondly, I did realize my visitor was potentially dangerous, although not in the conventional
sense. Mr. Black was not physically imposing, and I thought it unlikely that he was armed.
You might be a conman, of course, but I sensed his interest in me came from something deeper.
What?
I think he was talking about the, I think he's talking about like the, the, the, uh, him being a con artist.
No, I think, well, when he was shaking his hand, he said there was malice in his eyes.
So I think that he's, there's something,
I think he's just like,
there's something devious going on with his old man.
Gotcha.
Which also,
if there's an old man in my step,
I wouldn't fucking let him in.
I know,
even if he was fucking pawned at the door,
being like,
I can't get up.
Cool,
dude.
Slam.
So in a previous episode,
you remarked that you would kiss someone.
Oh,
absolutely.
But you would also slam the door
in an old man's face.
Oh,
100%.
So what's your threshold for kissing someone
versus like slamming doors in their face?
Was it an old person?
Is it an old person?
Sure.
Slam.
So you would never kiss an old person?
Oh.
What's your, what's your age threshold?
Uh, 45.
It's a rough one.
Why?
Oh, the age threshold, being 45, I agree.
Are you going to hit that in a couple years?
Very soon.
My wife hasn't really grasped the idea yet that in those years, too, when she turns 45, that it's, their intimacy is gone.
So what are you going to do when you hit 45 yourself?
Does the age change?
I don't think I'll make it.
Are you just going to?
I legitimately, I think I'll be dead by my actual age.
Cut this.
I hope I die on my sleep.
That's what I'm hoping.
You think you got five years?
I think about.
I think I got like five, five, like probably solid years.
I don't think so.
Have you seen my 600 pounds?
life.
Those people get by until they're like...
Strong hearts.
Yeah.
They are.
To be able to do that and they're enlarged, crazy.
Unbelievable.
I think...
Do you have heart problems?
Hmm.
I have like the heart of like a, like a, like a quail.
It's fluttering.
It's very, it's not good.
Okay.
So five years.
Give or take.
So when you go, can I make an AI hunter for the show?
You can do whatever you want.
Awesome.
It's your show.
I'm going to get a cutout.
out and I'm going to have like a radio
I love it. I'm like
and says something like
huh that's funny. Yeah I mean I would
love that that's the whole
show. What's the accent you're going to get
in? Who
probably German
but like
I've been told I look German. Small mustache
German. I've been told I look German. Like you're going to be
yelling in like a Nazi accent kind of
thing. So just German.
So then the next show so I'll do like
five episodes with
cutout hunter
and then I'll make a video
being like oh hunter passed away
and pretend like the cutout was you and be like yeah
that that Nazi stuff he said at the end was really weird
but otherwise he was a good friend
my body on tour
like a casket you willed out
if I can get the legal rise to that I will take your body
on tour yeah
I don't know what legal rights is I'm bad
I'm going to say no I mean transporting a corpse
a human corpse around you'd have to drive it
yeah yeah but I feel like there's
sure
Throw me the back of a pickup.
I'm in the casket.
Throw me the back of your pickup.
Just kind of like,
oh,
just take me out,
you know?
Yeah.
Yeah,
I think I'm going to need Allison's rent permission on that,
but I'll do it.
She won't care.
She's already.
She's remarried already.
She's remarried already.
It was pretty epic.
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I cautiously followed him into my living room,
noticing how he'd already taken the seat in the far corner.
He raised his hand.
pointing at the couch, opposite while saying,
Please, sir, take a seat.
It was as if our roles were now reversed,
and I was a guest in my own home.
And yet, I obeyed his instruction without comment,
taking a seat while I watched him lift and open his briefcase.
It was only later that I realized all the electronic devices in the room.
My television, laptop, smartphone,
were all now switched off.
Their screens turned to black.
even then
I didn't understand
the significance
of why this had occurred
at the time he's like
oh that's kind of weird
anyway
I'd be like
are you radioactive
what did the fuck out of my house
do you have like a universal remote
what was that
hey buddy
you have any fucking magnets
in your back pocket
why don't you turn them off
I continued watching
in awe
as the salesman pulled a fine
leather backed
red book from his briefcase
holding it so carefully
as if it was
his most surprise possession
I was instantly drawn to the mysterious book which my visitor held in his bony hands.
The cover was unremarkable, a maroon color without any motif or title that I could see.
The pages were stained yellow, which gave an indication as to its age,
and it had that rather pleasant musky smell you get in old bookstores or university libraries.
I'd like to claim that the cover was made from dried human skin or covered by some kind of magical runes,
but there was nothing that dramatic.
The book itself looked very ordinary, and yet I couldn't avert my eyes from it,
somehow sensing that the words contained within are of great importance.
Behold, sir, the greatest encyclopedia ever written.
The salesman suddenly announced, drawing my attention back to his grinning, wrinkled face, and bright eyes.
All the answers you will ever need are contained within these pages.
It's called Death Note.
Have you heard of it?
It's called Dragon Ball by Akira Toriyama.
That's awesome!
I frowned, looking again at the book, and noting its thickness.
I reckoned it was around 5 to 600 pages in length,
which hardly seemed substantial given the claims the salesman was making.
So, this is what you're selling?
Salesman laughed jovially, shaking his head before replying.
Oh, no, sir. I'm afraid not.
This book is priceless and sadly, not for sale.
I scowled, becoming increasingly suspicious of my enigmatic visitor.
You said you were a salesman.
I did!
He replied, seemingly picking up on my increasing hostility.
The truth is, I have held many possessions over the years.
Preacher, historian, emissary, salesman.
In all cases, the common thread is storytelling.
I scoffed dismissively before replying.
So what?
You're here to tell me a story?
Oh, yes, sir.
Beamed for the enthusiasm as he began to open the cover.
I can tell you many stories.
This wonderful book is full of them.
I see.
Let me ask you something, old-timer.
Have you ever heard of Wikipedia?
Got him.
Shelded that old coo-coo boss.
Have you heard of the internet?
Huh?
It's good.
I hate old people.
Yeah.
I was being deliberately facetious, of course.
challenging the salesman's assertion that this book contained long sought-after answers
when I could literally access all the information in the world with the mere touch of my finger.
The mysterious Mr. Black looked confused for a moment as if my question made no sense to him.
But eventually he caught dawn and answered in his jovial manner.
Oh, you mean the World Wide Web?
Well, sir, I'm afraid I'm something of a technophobe.
But let me assure you, sir, the tales within these pages will not appear on your internet.
He paused briefly to let this sink in.
I might have laughed aloud at his audacious claim, but there was a doubt in my mind.
I glanced back towards my phone, laptop, and television, noting how all had switched off as soon as the salesman entered my home.
It's going to be a coincidence, and the implications brought a chill down my spine.
Salesman didn't seem to notice my change in demeanor, however, as he was engrossed in his precious encyclopedia,
carefully and lovingly turning the pages.
His eyes lighting up whilst they scanned the contents.
Such was the power of the words contained within.
Now let's see.
What story would be of interest to you, good sir?
Perhaps the tragic saga of Emile de la Croix and her exile to the legendary Isle of Demons?
He flicked through the pages before offering another suggestion.
Or will I tell you the rules of the shadowlands?
where the dam stand in line between heaven and hell
whilst they await the almighty judgment.
He turned another page,
looking up from the book,
as he shot me a twisted grin in a sly wink.
But let's not beat about the bush, good sir.
I know the story you wish to hear,
the story of you, your past, your present,
and of course, your future.
I snorted again,
but with less confidence than before.
Can you do a unconfident snort?
yeah
that was it
thank you
I still thought
he was full of crap
but doubts were
creeping into my mind
I tried to make a joke
out of it
but my voice was
trembling when I asked
my next question
you got a chapter
about me in there
that's a bell
you can unringed
these stories
once Scooby-Doo
voices enter the picture
no coming back
well he said it was
shaky
trembling
if you start
doing Scooby-D
do voices. I'm going to start doing
Oh, I see.
That was me playing against me, but he's just being
you know, like, no, I'm more so asking
for permission. No, let's see
where it goes. We had to
at least give a little benefit of the doubt.
That sounded rude or that I guess it had to be.
Uh-oh.
The salesman smile
faded somewhat. As to the spark
in his eyes, this energy seemed
diminish.
Yes.
He said in a more solemn tone.
You, sir, have a very
prominent role in my book.
He proceeded
to read my full name and date of birth,
along with cursory details of my early
life and education.
I raised an eyebrow in suspicion.
Of course, these were details he could have
obtained through several sources.
And on the surface, the whole thing
seemed like a scam.
There was more.
A salesman was somehow able to confirm my day of death.
which he claimed would be the 13th of July 266.
Did you ever, when you were younger,
did you ever go on any of those like Death Day websites?
I did the, uh, not when I was too much younger,
but do you remember the Pink Eye Cult?
Uh-uh.
So it was this thing that went around YouTube where it was a YouTube channel
that would put, I think it's all gone now,
but they would post celebrities like Michael Jackson
or like, um, trying to think of a recent.
one who died, O.J. Simpson or whatever, right?
And then you would go, and it would be a pink eye, and the eye would blink,
and it would give a date when it blinked.
And it was all the deaths of these actors,
but then you look on the video,
and they were posted like 15 years ago.
So it's like this stuff was posted way, way back in the site's history,
and now it's like seemingly years ago,
they correctly predicted the dates of all these famous people, which it turned out the way they did it was
they had posted a bunch of these videos years back for a ton of celebrities. And then, because the titles
weren't being edited or anything, but they were posting like the eye blinking every month, every day,
every year. So then when that celebrity died, they would go back and trim the video in the editor to
just get the correct ones. I see. But it may, it, it was creepy at first. He gave the appearance that it
worked until people figured it out. But I did that because they had a discord you could join.
And it was like, we'll tell you the date you died. And mine was August, I want to say,
April or August of 2067. Just throw that out there. If anyone was in 2016. I think so.
67. That's a relevant number right now. It is. I also remember I did that and my dad freaked out.
Why would you look that up? Yeah, he's like, why are you talking to death cults? Where are you
doing, you know, you got real upset about.
I mean, 26, that's, you still got a lot of left.
I'd be 68, yeah.
Yeah.
I'd be fine with that.
My wife, maybe not so much.
Such a long time to live.
Did you ever do one of them?
Oh, yeah.
What did they give you?
I can't remember.
But I know, I was just like, oh, it freaked me out when I was younger.
Oh, no.
80 years?
It was definitely like before.
Oh, no.
It was definitely like before 2010.
When I did it.
So it was like a website.
You would die as a child.
child. Huh? They were predicting
you would die as a child? No, no, I'm saying that
I went on the website. Oh, I thought you said the day.
you know, that's really funny. Oh, no.
You know they had a surrogate
where it's like, it's tomorrow and they're like,
oh, no.
There was a short story I read
in college. I can't remember the name of it,
but it was about
a kind of dystopian future
where scientists had made this
machine that tells you
the day you're going to die.
And it followed a husband and wife
who the husband hated the idea of it,
but the wife went against his wishes and got it
and said that she was going to die in like five years.
So their whole,
like for five years they're dreading it and like,
they're so scared.
And then the night comes and it's on the night.
She's like, I don't know what's going to happen.
And he's holding her and it ends there,
but the implications nothing happened.
So they like wasted five years for stuff.
Someone in the comments can probably inform me of what it is.
I really like that story.
There's a bunch of awesome short stories I read in my,
English literature class in college that I can barely remember the names of any of them.
I obviously they didn't listen to that Tim McGraw song.
I went skydiving.
I went Rocky Mountain Climb and I went two point seven seconds on a bowl name Fu Manchu.
And I dug deeper and I spoke sweeter and I gave forgiveness.
I can't deny
Yeah
And I say someday
I hope you get the chance
To live like you were dying
Yeah
Good one, Dan
Yeah
Yeah
That's how I've lived every day
I heard that song
And I was like
God, that's a good point
So I've been doing that every day
You've been bull riding
And every day is such a blessing
God
It's so condescending
Coming from you
He really doesn't believe
In the five years
Yeah, he's
He's testing it
I laughed nervously at this revelation before saying
So you're a fortune teller as well as a storyteller?
Oh no
He replied with a dry chuckle
I can tell the future
I may that go by what's in the book
But it's never been wrong yet
I will say the
So you're a fortune teller line
very wrapping at the door of
so monster hunter huh not nearly as bad
you know people have gone back and they
they say that we read that wrong
oh yeah so many people are like
I love that story I love those parts of it
they're wrong I'll tell you what
I refuse to go back and correct my mistakes
absolutely not I only got five years to live
someday that's true you can't be thinking
someday I get the chance to live like I was dying
you gotta be living in Penn not pencil
yeah
what
You can't have time to be thinking about erasing and making mistakes and stuff.
You got five years to live.
Oh, I see.
Yeah, yeah.
It's like a bit.
Also, this is episode sponsored by Bick.
There was,
that did sound like a marker line.
Didn't it?
What was the story?
Oh, I saw a guy post on YouTube.
He was like,
it was just a 10-minute rant.
He was like, my favorite story of all time.
is my property isn't normal.
I've listened to that story
dozens of times.
It's my favorite story.
I watch one creepcast episode
and I can never listen to that story again.
What was my property as normal?
What was that one?
That was what about the guy
who he said is fat going out
and like,
Mark Wahlberg thinks he's a super agent
and all that.
He was like,
now every time I go back,
I can listen,
I just think of a fat guy
trying to climb up a tree.
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Yeah.
Your favorite story ever written?
I would agree.
That's a rough one.
But a lot of great stuff, man.
There's a bunch,
I say stuff like that.
I promise there's a bunch of people that are like,
hey,
he watched my video.
It's like,
if it's tag creepcast,
I've seen it.
Oh,
really?
Do you look at a lot of that shit?
I'll go through.
If I have free time,
I just see what like fans have posted and stuff.
And there's a video titled like,
creepcast ruin my favorite creepy pasta.
Of course I'm gonna,
I can't not click on it.
He was a good,
that kid was like,
he thought it was very funny and stuff.
He was mostly doing it to be fun.
but the similar with the thing in the basement, people love.
People love that story.
What does it say so far that we've done everything possible to not read this story?
I think it says what?
Woon Licker is going to be upset.
That's fine.
It's actually, you know what?
The story hasn't done anything to me yet.
I like Marcus.
He's Mark.
The author's name's Mark.
Mark.
Mark Lynch.
if that's your pet name for him you go right ahead.
The story hasn't done anything to me yet.
It's not.
I'm ready to get into it.
Well, shall we begin?
The old man's out of the encyclopedia guys here.
I took a deep breath to compose myself once I realized my body was physically shaking with anticipation.
The whole situation was insane.
My logical brain told me that none of this could be true.
And yet, I fully trusted the mysterious salesman.
in that moment. I don't know whether he'd be witch me with his black magic or because deep down,
I'd always yearn for this self-validation. But at this point, I was hanging on his every word.
I love that. Always yearn for this. I love that line with this next quote. I've always yearn for
this self-validation. It's, what else does the book say about me?
What?
Say I'm awesome. Did the book even say anything about him or then he's going to die? I think that it was a
Remember he said a bunch of stuff of his date, all this other stuff.
And then he said, what day he's going to die?
He said, whoa.
Yeah, I didn't even say anything.
Well, I mean, I think it's just some information.
He's just like, what else is in there?
Yeah.
But the salesman didn't answer.
Instead, looking up from his sacred text and towards the mantelpiece on the far side of my living room,
slowly lifted his right hand and pointed towards a framed picture took center place.
Your mother.
He asked in a sympathetic tone.
I looked at the picture.
seeing my mom's smiling face and sparkling eyes,
I experienced a twinge of grief as I remembered how much I missed her.
Yes.
I wondered why my visitor had changed the subject and felt frustrated at this lack of answers.
She never told you about your father, did she?
Pause momentarily, confused by the question, but also feeling like he'd hit a raw nerve.
She did.
My father died shortly before I was born.
salesman shot me a sympathetic half-smile.
That's not true, though, is it?
You've always known this deep down,
but you couldn't bring yourself to confront your mother,
not even when she lay on her deathbed.
Swallowed deeply, trying to control the flood of emotions I was experiencing.
I believe the salesman followed me a moment
to process these feelings before he continued to talk.
You wish to know your future, before you do.
You must understand where you come from.
He does this.
Got your nose.
I got your nose.
I have to go now.
This works out.
Bye, bye.
And that's when he stole my nose.
I thought over his cryptic words for only a moment
before snapping impatiently.
Tell me.
Tell me everything.
You read that like John Mullaney.
What?
That was a very John Malaney voice.
Oh.
Yeah, I guess.
It's not kind of disappointed how I respond to that.
I just mean, yeah, it was okay.
You seem sad.
You just, yeah, I guess.
I'm not the biggest John Mullaney fan, but, you know.
Did that hurt your feelings a little bit?
I mean, I do love big mouth, but.
Yeah.
Sound kind of like spider pig.
Spider-Verse.
Ooh.
How is that?
Wait, does he voice spider pig?
Yeah.
Oh.
I'm a fan now.
It's awesome.
Spider pig?
Spider-pig?
Spider-pig?
His reaction surprised me.
As the salesman frowned,
his smile disappeared as his expression darkened.
Got your nose.
He's dead.
At the water cooler the next day,
hey, Ali, so I lost my nose.
Jake, where did your nose go?
You'll never guess.
Hmm.
I think not, sir.
I came with honest intentions,
but now I see you are not ready for the truth.
My jaw dropped in astonishment.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing
and stated as much angrily.
No, you can't leave me hang like this.
I must know.
I will leave you with two names.
Salesman replied cryptically.
Charles Robinson and Fat Albert.
And Fat Abraham.
That's kind of fat Albert a little bit.
Who the hell are they?
my mom was fat albert shot back in anger and confusion you have the names seek them out and hear their stories piece by piece the truth shall be shall be revealed to you but for now sir i wish you good day and good luck
with that salesman carefully stood up from his seat and slowly walked towards the door i was literally baffled not believing that our bizarre encounter could in like this i had a rush of blood to my head deciding that i could
could not let him leave without first obtaining the answers I needed so badly.
In an instant, I jumped up from the couch, reaching for the elderly salesman, grabbing him
firmly by the arm.
No more bullshit, old timer.
You're not leaving.
I want to read what's inside that damn book.
I didn't expect much resistance from the elderly man, and so was astonished when he reacted
violently, exerting a near superhuman strength as he pulled free from my grasp and physically
shoved me to the floor.
I looked up fearfully,
seeing the cells been transformed into something
monstrous. His eyes black
and his mouth opening to reveal a gaping
dark hole.
He hissed at me like a cat,
and when he spoke, his words were deep
and almost inhuman.
Damn it, sir. Do not
curse me. Lay your hands
on me again and you will live to regret it.
I froze in terror,
averting my eyes from his hideous second
face. I didn't need to be told twice. Remaining on the floors, the salesman left the room.
His briefcase and walking stick in hand as he slowly walked down the corridor. I heard the door
slammed shut and my heart sank because I knew that this bizarre encounter had changed my life
forever. You won't be surprised to learn that I was grasped by a frantic obsession following the
salesman visit. Try to track him down, searching and contacting every bookstore and sales company
in a 100 mile radius, all to no avail.
I cannot find the mysterious Mr. Black
or his unidentified encyclopedia,
no matter how hard I tried.
And so, all I had to work with
was the two names he'd provided me.
No exaggeration to say that I spent months
attempting to track down Charles Robinson
and Fatima Abraham.
Despite the salesman distrust of the internet,
I used this resource extensively
during my long and frustrating search.
Obviously, there are three.
thousands of individuals on social media with these names and I had no additional information,
such as their ages or geographical locations.
I quickly realized it was pointless contact and random people online, and my best bet was targeting
forums which specifically dealt with bizarre or supernatural occurrences.
Even then, I faced many frustrations and dead ends, but eventually I was able to find the
correct Charles and Fatima amongst a host of trolls and scammers.
How could I be sure, you ask?
Well, both had received their own visits from the enigmatic Mr. Black
and were able to confirm details about the salesman and his previous encyclopedia
without being prompted by me.
I was therefore confident that all three of us had shared the same,
probably supernatural experience.
Haven't been picked out by the coolish salesman for whatever reason.
It's possible that all three of them were in it together and I was their mark.
I did consider the possibility
It was all an elaborate hoax
But for what purpose
I also did my own independent research
On the two individuals
And I'm sure they checked me out too
By all accounts
Charles and Fatima were unremarkable people
Who didn't stand out from the crowd
This was my first impression at least
There was no obvious connection between the three of us
I won't reveal where I live
But can provide some details about my companions
Fatima Abraham
lived in London, having been born and raised in the UK capital.
Her mother was English and her father in Egyptian.
Fatima wasn't married and had no kids.
She didn't even own a pet as far as I knew.
She worked in finance and had few friends.
Meanwhile, Charles Robinson held from the American Midwest,
where he worked as a locksmith and ran his own small business.
Again, he was unmarried and childless.
I suppose three of us did share some characteristics.
We were all single introverts around the same age.
All of us were suspicious of other people to the extent we could be described as misanthropists.
Likewise, we all had comfortable livelihoods but felt unfulfilled.
It was more than that.
Fatima, Charles, and I believe there was something missing from our lives.
Some dark secret which had been kept from us.
We all desired to learn this secret, and this was sure.
surely why the salesman had sought us out, because he had the answers we thought we so desperately needed.
As the three of us communicated through private messages, and it soon became apparent that Fatima and
Charles had more information than I did. Salesman had left me hanging, hinting at the identity
of my father and my ultimate destiny. On the other hand, secrets were revealed to my companions
that change their lives forever.
I've made the decision to share their stories here.
If only because their fates are linked to my own.
I will share their own words which I received
in the form of direct messages up until the point
they broke off contact.
Charlie Stale.
I don't know what to tell you guys about my upbringing.
My family weren't rich, but I was brought up right.
I didn't know much about my heritage.
Mom and dad were always Cady.
on the subject. I knew that my grandfather had changed his surname as a young man but never knew why
and no one would ever talk about it. I reckon there was likely a dark family secret which had been
kept for me. This wasn't something I dwelt on, however. I was a difficult kid. That would be fair to say.
I remember being angry much of the time but never truly understood why. I would frequently get into
fights in school and was in no end of trouble. My parents were very concerned.
concerned about my behavior. It's almost like they were afraid of me. I guess I always felt
this rage inside of me. I got better at controlling it as I grew older, but my inner thoughts
were often consumed by violent fantasies. These feelings worried me and contributed to my anxiety,
but I never talked about them or sought professional help. In fact, this is the first time I've
shared any of this. Anyway, my adult life hasn't been anything special. I've survived,
but never been happy.
I just existed and played the game.
I don't know why I started working as locksmith.
I'm not a people person
and I secretly hate most of my customers.
But the idea of being able to access their homes
excited me on some deep level.
All right, well, that's kind of a dark line.
Okay.
I was able to intrude upon their private domains
and so held a secret power over them.
Okay, well, it got worse.
Got worse with the next one.
Those are two wild.
lines back to back.
You're probably
seeing a lot of red flags here.
Yep. And you'd be right to do so.
But still, I'd repress these dark
impulses might well have continued
to do so if it hadn't been
for the salesman's visit.
You guys know the score, so
I won't repeat it here.
When that freak came knocking on my door and started
talking about encyclopedias, I was
just about ready to tell him to go to hell.
But I held my tongue
and let him inside my home.
I can't explain why.
You guys have been through the same experience,
so I know you'll understand.
Somehow, I felt like I could trust this stranger,
and I needed to hear what he had to say.
The next bit you know, too.
He took that damn book out of the briefcase and started reading.
There were a couple of weird stories he started off on.
I remember...
I'm sorry, Hunter. Are you bored?
Are you bored right now, Hunter?
Do you like that?
Yeah, Hunter sent me a middle of that. Hunter sends me a picture of his laptop of what he's been doing over there, which is Googling P&G art of a man sleeping.
It's good. Clip art. So are you bored? Is that what you mean by that?
I could use it to pick up a little bit. Oh, yeah, this will be a pickup. So the other day, Hunter texts me when I was going to see my chemical romance. And he sent me a voice memo that I haven't heard yet.
this is a safe voice memo to play on the podcast?
I think so.
Okay.
Do you remember what it is?
No.
Okay.
But to be fair, I did say,
Hey, have fun of the MCR concert,
and I followed that along with it.
Oh, that was nice.
What's the worst that I could say?
Things are better if I stay.
Okay.
How do you feel about this so far?
I mean, it's just very
Sometimes I feel bad about the stories
We read near at the end of the day
Because I'm already low energy
But I feel like
I'm like my energy
I feel like I was amped up to record
We had a lot of good bits and stuff
But the story's giving us nothing
I mean it's really just like
I feel a feeling that I'm missing a feeling
That I feel like I'm gonna be bad
When I saw these like go talk to these two people
I was like oh God
But now we're just getting his account
I don't even think I've retained a bit of knowledge
from it. I don't know what's happening.
Burd.
Yeah, I was a good old boy,
but my life I'm missing something.
Oh my God.
It's like just
whatever.
God, I burped. Oh my God.
Five years or five minutes?
All right. We took a break
from recording this because we got bored.
That's probably rude to say.
No, leave that.
We had tickets to go see a movie
that you can see here. We saw Ice Crew Man by
Eli Roth.
Hunter loved it. We had a review
of it up on Patreon. If you feel so inclined
if you want to listen to us, ramble
on about... An hour of us ranting in the storm.
Nothing but praise.
There's no buildup of any
character. There's nothing I actually
give a fuck about. It's all just absolute
fucking horseshit. Nothing
about what? Nothing but praise. Yeah,
nothing but praise. You can check that out.
So, Isaiah,
tell me what the hell has been going on in the storm.
All right.
We got our main character, our Jack, right,
who has been visited by the encyclopedia of salesmen,
who has this book that tells him everything about this guy's life.
He's now found two other people the salesman has visited,
and they're each given their own account.
It's Charlie and Fatima.
Didn't he not tell him what's up because he's like,
oh, you're not ready to handle the truth yet?
About his father.
So you have to find these other two people.
Yeah.
Which my bear trap is they probably all have the same dad.
Because he's suspicious of who his father is,
and so are these other two.
So I imagine that's where it's going.
Right.
So this is in the midst of Charlie's account.
Okay.
Next bit you know too.
He took that damn book out of his briefcase and started reading.
There were a couple of weird stories he started off on.
I remember some talk of a hidden museum of future apocalypse
and a phantibus full of ghosts and ghouls.
I assume those are references to his other,
the author's other works.
Yeah.
But yeah.
I don't recall all the details.
these stories scared the shit out of me,
but he soon moved on to my own
sordid family history.
It all goes back to my great-grandfather, you see.
His name was Ivan Robson.
He was notorious around these parts.
Between 1922 and 1930,
Ivan carried out at least 11 brutal murders
in the tri-state area.
11 is what he confessed to anyway,
although the true number may have been much higher.
Ivan was one of the earliest known serial killers
in the Midwest,
practicing his ghastly trade with a butcher's knife,
cutting his victim's throat from ear to ear and savage,
but meticulously executed attacks.
His trademark was to break into the victim's homes
while they were out and lay in wait,
launching his murderous assault once they returned home.
And guess what?
I haven't trained as a locksmith,
just like I did.
I feel like this might be an actual killer.
I feel like I remember a butcher who, like, was a locksmith
and would break into people's homes he installed locks on.
I feel like I remember that story.
Anyway, this was how he gained access to the victim's homes,
and he used his profession as a cover for traveling from town to town,
scoping out his targets while he planned his murders.
It's difficult for me to describe my emotions as I listen to these revelations.
Shock, of course, and more than a little fear.
The most extraordinary part was how the salesman told the story.
He wasn't just reading the words from the book.
Well, he was, but it was more than that.
And salesman described the murders to me.
he didn't just cover every vivid and gory detail.
The words he spoke seemed to hold some kind of dark power.
Somehow, I was transported to the murder scenes,
feeling the knife in my hand and the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
I was in my ancestor's body,
hiding in a stranger's home and waiting for them to return.
I vividly recalled the tear in their eyes as I revealed myself,
charging them with my blade in hand.
Some fought back fiercely,
meaning I had to stab them multiple times before they fell.
others cowered and begged for mercy.
It made no difference in the end
because I slaughtered every victim
without a second thought.
In truth, I enjoyed reliving
my ancestors' heinous crimes
from the screams of his victims
to the smell of their blood.
It was like a part of me
which had been buried deep inside
was finally released
and now I knew who I was.
It's like a
it's like hearing a dream
about a coworker you don't like
like a water cooler at work.
It's like you're stuck in a conversation.
Yeah.
I can't get out.
This is,
let me out.
Is it?
I mean,
like,
would anyone on earth find this scary?
Oh,
you're saying you feel like a co-work?
I legitimately feel like this.
I feel like I'm being held hostage at my work.
I mean,
he's describing like his grandfather being a serial killer.
Yeah.
Yeah.
But the bloody strait,
look,
the,
the dynamic,
I've been, I've walked these grounds long enough.
For the dynamic of this show, only one of us can crash out at a time.
If we both do, it gets rough, right?
Sure, that's sure, the show.
So, I'm going to stay locked in.
You had your turn.
Yeah, I had my turn.
I can raise it up if you want.
I can cut that out.
No, no, no.
I'm saying, I'm going to be our anchor.
So you, as much as you want.
I'm giving you, I'm giving you open field, right?
That's a mistake.
I'm taking you old, old, but.
I'm taking you old Bessie to the fence line, and I'm opening up the gate.
I'm saying, there you go, girl.
All you want.
Okay.
I'll keep the fence.
But the bloody string of murders came to an inevitable end when the police up with you.
My great-grandfather during the early years of the Great Depression.
The detective who caught him was called Underwood.
Rising Star and the local police force who later joined the FBI.
As a salesman described, the...
Who fucking?
Who fucking cares, dude?
This is like being stuck at a child's birthday party.
Does he feel like that?
The police said,
so it was called Underwood.
He was an up-and-coming guy.
Anyways.
As a salesman described the arrest,
I was once again taken back.
Possessing my late relative's body
as I was thrust into a tight,
windowless interrogation room
during the hot summer of 1930.
Underwood was standing over me.
His face red with fury
and this shirt covered in sweat
as he screamed in my face.
I remember being terrified by his overbearing and intimidating presence.
It wasn't just that Underwood was physically imposing.
There was also a malice in his eyes, which was truly chilling.
I didn't need to imagine what my great-grandfather was feeling in that moment.
I knew he was scared.
It's a crazy thing to imagine a serial killer being afraid of a mere cop,
but there was a darkness within Underwood that was frightening.
When my great-grandfather didn't confess, Detective Underwood beat him without mercy.
The torture went on for hours, and I felt every blow my ancestor.
suffered. In the end, he was forced to sign a confession for the 11 murders. I experienced
great anger once I learned how my ancestor was subjected to this treatment, even though I realized
he was in fact guilty. I will agree. I'm not, I'm not crashing out. I'm not crushing out too.
I'm just saying to be like, yeah, he killed 11 people, but they beat him up. That's sad.
I experienced a great anger once I learned how my ancestor was subject to this treatment,
even though I realized he was in fact guilty. Even though he,
killed 11 people in their home. He did kill 11, probably more people. Yeah. But boy was I
peeved when I found out the police beat him up. That's so mean. They're big meanies. Underwood,
my grandfather might have been a serial killer, but that Underwood was a mean guy. Let me show you
pictures of my kids from my wallet. That's what I feel like. That's what I feel like. Okay.
That's what Hunter feels like. Again, Hunter's welcome to feel that. I'm being a hater. This is a
hater episode for me. Yeah, that's good because I think we need that dynamic right now.
I feel like that's the kind of thing we need.
Everyone dies.
The Eli Ross ice cream movie.
No, we can't.
No, no, no, no.
We just, we just spent it out.
Okay, all right, all right.
Okay.
What were you going to say?
Is it concise?
No.
Okay.
Ivan Robson was executed on the 15th, September 1932.
Salesman described the execution to me in great detail.
Once again, I was transported back in time,
finding myself strapped into the electric chair,
shaking uncontrollably as they read me my last rides and pulled the lever.
The electricity flowed through me, causing me excruciating pain as my body cooked from the inside out.
And then it all went dark.
I was thrust back to the present, sitting on my couch as...
Setting on my couch as the salesman finished reading,
before he put the book carefully back in his briefcase and made a leave.
I tried to stop him. Of course I did.
There were still so many unanswered questions in my head.
But you know how that goes.
The old man doesn't like much, but he packs a mean punch.
And then he left me, having turned my life upside down in the course of one afternoon.
Could I go back to the way things were?
Not after everything I'd learned.
So I started doing my own research, much like the two of you.
As you can imagine, there's been a lot written about my late ancestor.
I also came onto these paranormal forums and started asking questions about the salesman guy.
That's how I got in touch with you guys, obviously.
I appreciate having you both to talk to about this crazy shit.
I haven't spoken with my parents.
Frankly, I feel betrayed by them both because they hit the truth for me for so long.
It's difficult for me to describe my emotions at this time,
but I feel more than anything else is rage.
That anger and less for violence is so longer.
This is legitimately,
if an alien wrote a piece of,
like, text and be like, how can I try to mimic a human?
That's, what the fuck is going on?
They have a deep darkness, Hunter.
They all have a deep darkness.
My grandma.
I had a grandma.
She fried into his ex-like grandpa's murder killer body and relived it.
Kind of like the Harry Potter thing.
I had a grandma who was in a retirement home.
Here we go.
And she once told me, I visited her.
Went to have my mom.
And when my mom was getting us lunch and I had to be left there with my grandma,
my grandma told me about how her roommate
she thought that she stole her marbles
for maybe 45 minutes
and this is like this is
less interesting than my grandma
talking about marbles that she lost
and I remember that was like a horrifying experience
because it was so boring
well there's a lot of factors to the grandma story
that I don't know if I wanted to have old cheer
but I will say that like this
like there is so much being said
but nothing's being said
Put a bit in that.
Come back.
There's details to your grandma's story.
You don't know if you want to share.
Yeah.
Is there anything that you can share?
Nothing I feel super comfortable sharing.
Are you serious?
Yeah.
Hold on, hold on.
You've got a grandma's story.
Your grandpa shooting your dog, fair game, open field.
That was an accident.
So you thought.
But there are details to you.
Your grandma's story.
I don't feel comfortable saying,
which is coming,
which is a lot coming from me.
That's insane coming from you.
It's a lot coming for me.
All I know,
all I can say is that this feeling that I have deep inside,
I feel,
like,
I feel like I'm,
it's almost like being,
like being a kid being somewhere that he,
like, is like,
when is this going to be over?
Yeah,
you're suffering with the story.
We got it.
We got it.
Just give me some.
Oh,
I'm a broken record.
Just like,
Just give, no, no, no.
Just give me something from the grandma.
Just a tinge.
I'm not even going to...
I'm not in the mindset to talk about this.
I'm not going to talk about it.
Wow.
I don't know what this is.
And Eli Roth's ice cream, man.
I had several, several.
No, no, no.
What I'm saying is I know what I'm saying is I had several long out of nice teas.
We stopped at a gas station and you got three airplane bottles to prepare for the movie.
It wasn't enough.
But I've been a spot right now.
You know, it's weird, though,
is I thought that in the state
I'd be in a space where I'm, like, more accepting.
This couldn't be farther from the truth.
Okay.
Well, who knows?
Maybe they'll come around.
Okay.
Out of respect to you and our friendship,
I will quit pressing the grandma question.
There might be a day I talk about this,
but I will say it was a horrific experience I had.
I'm not going to go into it right now.
About the marvels or just that day?
Not about the marvels,
but that day.
I wasn't molested.
I just want to put that out there.
That's really what it felt like you were important.
It's not that.
That everything you were saying was pointing to a molestation.
She did not touch me.
I never said she did,
but maybe someone in that nurse in the way you were describing it.
None of that.
No, that.
Okay.
That's what I was like,
Hunter.
I don't think I'd unpack or unload that on the show.
That's a lot.
Talk a,
talk about the encyclopedia sale of me.
Really brought a lot out of me.
Thanks,
Wound Liquor.
Yeah.
That anger and lust for violence is now long is no longer buried deep in my psyche
Now it's at the forefront of my consciousness and the rage has consumed me
My greatest desire just to seek vengeance on behalf of my ancestor Ivan
I believe it's my duty to continue his legacy
Focus of my hatred has a name and it's underwood
The cop who caught my great grandfather is long dead of course
But his descendants still live in this area
In fact his great grandson is an attorney right here in my hometown
I know where he lives and I can get inside
fire burning within me cannot be diminished.
I will have my revenge.
Imagine being such a fucking loser that your murder grandpa.
You feel upset that your fucking loser.
Piece of shit, grandpa got beat up.
So all of a sudden you have to kill somebody else,
like a generation after a good law-abiding detective
took down your fucking sociopathic grandpa.
And now you're like, I'm, you know, I can't.
I have to kill him.
What a fucking loser.
Charles is cool.
But to be fair,
That's just one of the many pages in the encyclopedia.
That's why.
Those many pages to the encyclopedia.
That's not like a Benoit blank thing for a second.
Like a little Benoit blank thing you're good.
To be fair.
Bernard.
Bernard.
Jacques.
As you can imagine, both Fatima and I were left shocked and deeply disturbed by Charlie's final sign-off.
If we took his words of face valued, we'd have to assume that Charlie would commit a murder in the near future.
So what did we do with?
this information. I suppose the correct course of action would have been to contact the police,
and yet we didn't do so. When we discussed his post, we decided the murder threat was likely a hoax
or that he wouldn't go through with it. Deep down, though, I think we both knew this was a lie.
I can't speak for Fatima, but I didn't report the murder plot because I wanted to see what
would happen. Never did hear from Charlie again, but I was able to piece together the rest of the
story through court documents and news reports.
On the 23rd of March of this year,
32-year-old locksmith named Charles Robinson
illegally gained access to a private residence in Kansas City.
In his subsequent confession to detectives,
Mr. Robinson admitted to breaking into the home
with the intention of ambushing and murdering the owner,
the well-known defense attorney, Caleb Underwood.
The accused believe the home would be empty at the time,
but was confronted by Mr. Underwood's maid,
25-year-old Isabella Rodriguez.
which mind you
is the most stereotypical
maid name I can imagine
almost to a point of insulting
a struggle ensued
which ended in a brutal murder
as Robinson stabbed his victim
13 times in a frenzied attack
killing her in the master bedroom
the accused expressed remorse
over the murder of Miss Rodriguez
but decided to follow through on his original plan
moving the mate's corpse to the bathroom
before waiting for his target to come home
detectives investigating the case
of praised the bravery of Mr. Underwood
was able to overprivile
power, disarm, and subdue the suspect until the police arrived.
Mr. Robinson has been charged with murder and attempted murder and has been denied bail.
It's noted that he is a distant relative of Ivan Robinson.
The infamous serial killer who committed 11 murders across three states during the 1920s
was executed by the electric chair in 1932.
This was the news report from the time and I don't mind telling you that the account shocked
me to my very core.
Charlie had played out his violent fantasies and carried on his great-grandfather's bloody legacy.
but he badly botched his murder plot,
slaughtering an innocent woman before getting himself caught.
Charlie might as well have been executed, like his ancestor,
but he never made it to trial.
The last report I read confirmed that Charles Robinson was found dead in his jail cell
in the morning of April 14th.
The authorities claim he taking his own life, but I'm not so sure.
In any event, one of my contacts was dead,
and I still didn't have the answers I needed.
Suppose I should have felt disgusted over the whole affair,
but in truth, I was frustrated to have hit up.
Another brick wall.
Now my only hope was Fatima, and she was able to bring another piece to the puzzle.
So let me tell you this young woman's story in her own words.
Fatima's tale.
There's not much to say about me.
Can I read this one?
Fatima's tale.
There's not much to say about me.
Sure, I could recount my childhood in a minute detail.
But what would the point of that?
What would be the point of that?
I will say that my parents divorced when I was still young,
during my adolescence.
I turned my back on my father's faith.
We fell out of our,
we fell out over this disagreement,
and I haven't spoken in,
we haven't spoken in years.
The truth is,
I never had much time for religion.
I haven't had much time for religion.
Don't you just like pray before you go to bed?
What are you talking about?
I couldn't make Sundays work.
Me and the big man have a tumultuous relationship.
I didn't have time to believe in something.
I didn't have time.
Too much mental fuzz.
Could do it.
During my student days, I was a committed atheist.
Hell yeah.
Filled with a youthful arrogance and anger against the establishment.
I'm sorry, Isaiah.
He read committed atheist and under his breath said,
Hell yeah.
Filled with a youthful arrogance and anger against the establishment.
In later life, I became much more conformist,
although I never considered myself a spiritual person.
I suppose I had a decent relationship with my mum.
We saw each other regularly, and I continued to visit my mother
until her sudden passing from a stroke.
I grieved the loss, but in all honesty, we were never the close.
I had one serious boyfriend after university.
We lived together for about five years, but gradually grew apart.
I remember the day he broke up with me, saying I'd become cold and distant.
I didn't argue and let him go.
A big part of me was relieved.
God, she sounds great.
Hey, so you're kind of a huge bitch, and you're kind of distant and cold.
Be no way.
She didn't have time to believe.
I don't have time to believe in this relationship.
I work on a Parenthood Express.
Working Panned Express in London.
Pretty busy.
I used to be bothered by things like this.
It could serve me that I couldn't maintain a relationship
and I had no close friends.
I'm amazed that you remember she was from London.
She said, Mom.
Yeah, but just the fact to specifically London.
That was, wow.
I'm impressed.
This right here.
Bear trap.
This is a,
this is a fucking,
a fortress of solitude.
Superman hides in here.
We,
we should get you drunk to read
women's accounts and stories more often.
I,
it is in full swing right now.
I reckon there must be something wrong with me
and I did seek professional help in my late 20s,
but multiple psychiatrists couldn't provide the answers I needed,
a.k.a. I didn't want to listen.
You should probably work in yourself.
I have no time.
she's definitely kind of person that's just like,
she was waiting for someone to be like,
you're perfect.
Yeah.
You don't change the thing.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Thank you,
psychiatrist.
That's perfect.
At the absence of meaning,
which also,
if I'm paying somebody,
just fucking tell me one on here.
Let me get on.
Just give me the stats,
yeah.
And the absence of meaningful human interaction,
I threw myself into my career.
I was always good with numbers.
And so I pursued this line of work,
taking a job as a financial analyst after college
and working my way up to the corporate,
working my way with the corporate ladder.
I worked long hours and made good money.
By any measure, my career has been a great success.
But guess what, guys, I was still not satisfied.
You both know the feeling all too well to feel like a stranger in your own life.
And then the salesman came to my door.
There we go.
He remembered more about the story off five Long Island STs and he hasn't stumbled once.
I know.
I was thinking the same thing.
I didn't want to jinx it.
But he's in a flow state right now.
like he's enjoying it but he's doing it he's doing that's that's all i ask just clock him
and then the salesman came to my door my introduction is this mysterious stranger were much the same as
yours oh well is that yeah i'm sure we're thinking the same thing my introduction's this mysterious
stranger were much the same as yours oh i bet he's creepy and old i was highly suspicious but i let him
into my home. My guess
I was still apprehensive
up to the point he took the book out of
his briefcase and started to read.
From that point onwards, I was
transfixed and hanging on his every word.
He told me several tales of the unexplained
and paranormal.
Speaking of a red phone box that
can communicate with the afterlife,
a cursed model village which
consumed its creator,
an apparel universe which has become
resting place for countless lost ships and planes.
Fuck.
Okay, normally you, I'm the one who gets mad about references to other stories.
No, so I have a rest of it.
I don't think that these are references to other stories.
No, they are.
Those are references to his other stories.
Yeah.
I saw something called the red box in his.
Yeah.
But it doesn't matter.
Just keep reading.
Just keep reading.
Yeah, there's February 24.
You're going to break him.
23.
He posts the story called the red phone box.
Yeah.
Read the first two lines.
Okay.
Hold on.
Though, those of a certain age who grew up in the UK,
will remember the old style red phone boxes emblazoned with the royal crown with the motif
telephone written about their glass paneled swing doors in fact you've probably seen photographs
of these booths which are regarded as quintessentially British acting as tourist attractions
London elsewhere those are the first two sentences I'm not I don't go in for such
fantastical stories and conspiracies throughout my life I've considered myself an educated
and logical woman who had no time
for the superstitions
of the past.
And if the salesman's powerful word
struck a chord with me.
I like how he said,
I like how he looked there
and he said,
Ghost!
I should do.
Whoa.
He said,
whoa,
red box in a ghost.
Well,
I guess I'm better.
Maybe I am a little
more superstitious.
You know it's a great line,
actually.
What?
It's a,
Michael Scott.
office line here.
So I'm not superstitious, but I'm a little stitious.
It's a great line.
And yet the salesman powerful award struck a chord with me, and I felt like he'd
reached something deep inside of me, waking emotions I had long since buried, and this was
before he revealed my true identity.
But my connection to the past wasn't as directed as it was for Charlie.
The dark tragedy in my family's history did not occur within living memory.
Instead, the salesman took me back to the 17th century, where a long-forgotten ancestor
of my mother's side suffered a grave injustice.
She 100% was a witch.
my ancestors name was mary claiburn she was minister's wife and young mother of two
mary lived in norwich norfolk county during the 1640s and her short life was not a happy one
her husband was a puritan good one a real fire and brimstone type who didn't believe in
sparing the rod when it came to disciplining his children or his wife for that matter
the way salesman's the way the salesman vividly described the violence and abuse it was like
nothing I've ever experienced before.
I can relate to Charlie's account because I felt the immense power of the salesman's words
as he read from the encyclopedia.
And somehow I was transported back in time.
Experienced my ancestors' torments as if they were happening to me.
I've never forgot the terror of being in that isolated rural cottage,
facing the cold nights under candlelight as I fought to protect the young children.
Son and daughter from the uncontrollable rage of the minister.
It was particularly chilling to realize there was nobody I could call.
No one I could turn to for help.
I was on my own against this monster
But my ancestor Mary was not entirely helpless
She had powers you see
The type of powers I would have previously dismissed as nonsense
But now I know that magic is very real
That was a good call
That was a good call
You're doing good, I'm proud of you
Lord help me
Mary was able to do extraordinary things
Communicate with animals, read people's thoughts
So she's going back in time
She's talking to squirrels and she's reading people's thoughts
What the fuck are people even thinking back then?
Bread?
I'd love a size of bread right about now.
Or God.
Yeah, that's all they were thinking of.
Maybe.
And make objects move without touching them.
And she had telekinesis.
That's pretty funny.
She's, it's like,
she got,
and she got a wheelchair with X on the wheels.
And she would find anyone in the world with a helmet.
It's like ancient Puritan times.
And this minister's like,
I think my wife's a witch.
And behind him, she has like the cerebral helmet on.
She's pulled the shit floating around.
In a wheelchair just spinning around in the air.
I think she's a witch.
Can you get blades out of your knuckles?
Mary, get down from there.
Marr.
Mary was able to extraordinary things.
Communicate with animals.
Three people saw it to make objects move without touching them.
She used her powers in small ways,
but was careful to hide her actions from her husband and the wider community,
knowing all too well the serious consequences if she was caught.
But the minister knew something was amiss,
and this only added to his fury.
Once night, he came home in a blind rage,
ranting about the devil's influence and the unholy corruption of his family.
He charged with the stairs, his face red as a grasped hold of his wooden cane.
I will say
Minister's completely right
He's like
I think the devil has influence
Over this family's put a dark magic on the house
She's floating stuff around and talking to animals
If it was 1640
I saw my wife talking to squirrels
Reading people's minds
And moving fucking objects with her hands
I'd be grabbing the cane too
Yeah I mean it's like this girl's a devil
You gotta do something
Mary confronted her husband at the top of the staircase
But was violently shoved out of the way
as her husband made for the children's bedroom
I was in my ancestor's body in that moment
experienced her acute pain, fear, and anger.
I channeled those emotions using my powers
in an act of violent retribution
without moving from the floor
and leased a surge of energy,
a righteous and visible force,
which threw the minister back down the stairs.
Kamea, may I wave?
That's what she just did.
That's her ex in the chair.
Ka, me!
Do you think she had one of those
it's periods and times, but she's bald?
She has the wheelchair
No, no, no, does she have the seat that old people wear
When they can't walk up the steps?
The acorn stair lift, yeah
Is she charging it up as it's going at the stairway?
B-Dardy, I want to leave. Mommy's scaring me. I'm gonna try to leave soon. Yeah, she brings back
She just has an acorn chairlift and he's like, what is this? What is this magic?
Ha!
this was Mary's action, but we were as one in that moment.
I was in control and I felt such power.
I enjoyed seeing the shock and terror.
This is like also the most.
Could this not be more of an astrology girl story?
Oh, yeah.
In time until a witch's body.
What's that?
What's that bumper sticker they have?
We're the daughters of that too,
but were the daughters of the witches you try to kill or try to burn something like that.
I see that a lot.
That's a real thing that people are.
Yeah.
It has like, yeah.
it'll have like the like a wicken triangle or something and it'll have like the pinagram or whatever it's
like we're the daughters of the witches you tried to burn i enjoyed seeing the shock and tear in the
minister's eyes as he tumbled down the stairs savoring every crack and cry of pain before he hit the
bottom his neck breaking as he collided with the hard floor i looked down at his dead eyes and felt
no remorse only a grim satisfaction that the monster's life had in was like it was ended but then i
turned my head and saw Mary's young children standing in the doorway. Their teary, shocked-filled
eyes looking up at the violent scene and disbelief. The salesman dispassionately continued his reading
and confirmed Mary Claiborne's face. On the 12th of September 1645, my ancestor was sentenced to the death
a Norwich Crown Court after being convicted of murder and witchcraft. She was to be burned at the
stake, given what I now knew about Mary's life. All she's been sent, she suffered, whatever. I was
naturally outraged that the sentence passed down against her, but there was more.
I call both of these things are also just like a person did commit a crime.
They did do the thing they were accused of.
Yeah.
Yeah.
But yet I was upset.
She was using black magic and witchcraft to kill her husband, who granted, might have been a jerk
from the description and like an abusive husband, all that, but he was completely right
that there was a demonic influence in the house.
And the guy before murdered 11 people.
And he's like, what's that cop doing, getting him in trouble for this?
Don't you just skirt this by being like, I don't.
have powers and he's saying I'm a witch and I'm not a witch. But then it just makes him look like
he's justified when it's like, but by the way, I was talking to squirrels and I was moving sure
with my hands. I think the implication here isn't that these people have like a righteous anger in the
past. It's that they've inherited the same evil. That's the reason Fatima had an aversion to
religion her whole life because she has the same evil want for demonic presence and stuff
that her, the witch had, just like the guy before, before he even killed anyone said he liked
being in people's homes and the access it granted him. That's that same evil passed down from his
great-grandfather. It's true. It's really good. Oh, they wrote that. Through the salesman words,
I was once again transported back at time to the day of the trial. There I was in Mary's body.
Terrified as a bang mob called out from my blood. The magistrate restored some degree of order by
loudly banging his gavel. But he soon launched into a furious tyrant in which he described Mary as a
whore and witch in the service of Satan before gleefully sentencing her to burn.
I remember the pure hatred and malice in the magistrate's dark eyes as he looked up upon me
with utter contempt. His hateful glare chilled me to my bones and made me question who was really
in league with the devil. The one doing witchcraft. That would be the one. But the final memory
was of course the worst as I was pulled back into the night of Mary's execution. Once again,
I possessed my ancestor's physical form.
As I was tightly tied to the post with a pile of firewood below me,
my whole body shook as I fought against my binds and cried out for mercy.
But I would get none from the hateful mob of Puritans assembled before the pyre.
Their eyes full of righteous anger as they wielded pitchforks and torches and called me every vile name under the sun.
A minister spoke some words before the horror began.
I can't recall the exact text, but believed he finished on the phrase,
may God have mercy on your soul.
Yeah.
What, really? I've never heard of that.
Or words that affect.
And then three men stepped forward and set the pyre alight.
I cried out, louder this time.
My body is sweating and eyes burning as I watched the flames quickly spread.
I felt the heat of the fire, starting with a burning of my toes and feet, but soon
growing more intense as the flame shot at the stake and engulfed me, melting my skin
and flesh in a horrifying inferno.
I know that this atrocity happened to my ancestor and not me.
but in that memory I could feel her agony
and it was the most intense pain
I'd ever suffered
and before I blocked out I saw the magistrate
in the crowd watching Mary's fiery death
a twist his smile etched across his face
and he took a perverse pleasure
from her suffering
this was when the salesman brought me back
to the present day and as you probably guessed
he left my home without elaborating on why he told me
this gruesome and tragic tale
but there was one more detail he revealed
before leaving me I thought it was irrelevant
at the time and its significance only became
apparent after I heard Charlie's story because you see the magistrates who sent
this Mary Claiborne was called Underwood.
Bum, bum, bum.
Oh, fuck, I'm cooking with gas.
That's what the author was aimed.
As you can imagine, the revelation has caused me many sleepless nights.
Countless.
I'll confess to having a similar experience to Charlie as I became obsessed with the words and visions
the salesman had shared with me to the point where
every other part of my life was neglected.
I took a leave of absence for my job
and spent every waking hour pursuing the mystery.
I could find no direct connection
between Caleb Underwood and Kansas City
and the Norfolk Magistrate
who burnt my ancestor at the stake.
I have been able to trace the lineage of the magistrate
Underwood, however.
His astrocratic family is a
aristocratic family
is a prominent one in English society
and one of his descendants
is now a UK government minister.
It sounds crazy, particularly after what happened to Charlie, but I too have become obsessed with the desire for revenge against Underwood.
I've tried to tell myself that it's madness. I need to let it go, but I can't do this.
I also realize the risks are great, but I am not powerless.
I see now that my ancestor's blood runs through my veins, and I have inherited her great power.
I've been practicing over the last number of weeks and have honed my natural-born skills.
You've got a sentence left.
learning the ways of my ancestors as I plot my revenge.
I can't, I can do this.
I needed this for Mary.
The encyclopedia salesman brings them,
accounts from their life,
and they have this, like, deep evil in them that's inherited.
What threat is she actually under?
The salesman looks like he just comes up,
tells you a story.
He's like, you want to read Gibble Gobbles Forest,
or do you want to read Candy Land Lane?
And they're like, I don't know either of those.
All right, well, I'll tell you about your past.
But bye.
Well, remember with our main character, he said, you're not ready for it yet.
And he's like, well, look, find these other two people.
And these other two people were given the story of their past.
And it, like, unlocked like, oh, that's the thing that's wrong with me.
I have this deep-seated generational evil that I'm now going to act on.
Right.
So that being unlocked for them drove them both to madness to seek revenge against the people,
the ancestors of the people who wronged them in the past, right?
It's almost like a reincarnation thing.
But they haven't ever done anything.
Charlie didn't even get, he just knew that it was Underwood.
And then Fat Albert was like, I googled the guy and he's a UK government minister or ministry thing.
I think the implication is she's going to kill him.
So there's two people that are going to murder someone, I see.
Yeah.
Yeah, it's unlocking that same evil that has to be carried out later.
So the encyclopedia salesman basically unlocks this like torment that exists within you,
like this generational evil.
you act on it. Oh, I like that.
Okay. That's what someone would hypothetically
No, I think that's cool. Okay. That makes sense.
That was the last
communication I received from Fatima and sadly
you can probably guess what happened next.
I didn't need to go searching for news this time
because the story had received international coverage.
On the 15th of May,
UK education minister Thomas Underwood
was attacked and seriously wounded during a public
appearance outside a secondary school
in South London.
I was going to say, is this good time to say that
I did see he pleaded guilty, but it was to the federal charge.
Manjione pleaded guilty?
To the federal charge, the federal charge, yeah.
The federal charge was the stalking one.
So where the murder was in New York State,
and he didn't travel state lines to my understanding to do it,
it is a New York state case, the actual murder.
So he pleaded guilty to the federal charge.
It's now up to the state of New York to prosecute him for the murder.
But now what the defense team's trying to do is get him on double jeopardy to say that these overlap, which that's not how double jeopardy works.
But it's like, well, if we can get New York to drop the case, you won't be tried for murder is the idea.
So pleading on federally for the lesser charge, basically.
He faces, oh, so he's going to get life in prison for this, though?
For the stalking charge?
That's what it says here.
That's what I'm reading.
No, you can't get life for stalking. There's no way.
Luigi Mangione pleaded guilty in federal court to stalking, resulting in the death of United Health Care CEO, Brian Thompson.
He faces a maximum sentence of life in prison with federal sentencing scheduled for December 18, 2026.
He killed a rich guy, so he's got to go away from him.
I know for the murder, but I feel like the stalking charge.
I mean, he faces life or potentially death penalty. I think New York still has it. They just never go for it.
He looked at a rich guy wrongly.
Well...
Can't do that.
I'm not throwing my sticks one way or the other,
but I feel like he did a bit more than look at him.
The assailant has been identified as 31-year-old Fatima Abraham,
a finance worker from the city with no previous criminal convictions.
Witnesses say Ms. Abraham approached the minister as he was greeting press and members of the public.
She was somehow able to slip past underwood security team and stab him with the knife concealed under her sleeve.
Mr. Underwood was wounded but not incapacitated, managing to fight off his attacker and throw her down to the pavement.
It is funny how similar this is to the Jack story that through no fault of the Underwood's own,
they have been building a super soldier to come kill them. Two, two.
Ms. Abraham then picked up her weapon and launched a second attack despite warnings from police officers on scene.
She was subsequently shot by plain-closed detective. Officers attempted to perform CPR on the assailant,
but she died at the scene.
Mr. Underwood was rushed to the hospital where doctors performed surgery upon a deep stab
wound in his right shoulder. A government spokesman has since confirmed that the minister's
injuries are not life-threatening and he's expected to make a full recovery. Metropolitan police
have stated that Ms. Abraham has no history of violence, no known links to any extremist or terrorist
groups. Sagan officers are currently looking for a motive. I deleted all my messages from Fatima
after reading about her botched attack. By this point, I was in a state of disbelief. The salesman
had provided me with two names and now they were both dead, both having attempted to murder
men called Underwood.
The name did resonate with me, but as hard as I wrecked my brains, I couldn't remember
where or when I'd first heard it.
I threw myself in a frantic research and did find many important public and private individuals
called Underwood, men and women in politics, the media, finance, and so forth.
These Underwoods were seemingly unconnected and spread throughout the English-speaking world.
and there were many other variants of the surname in various different languages.
Still, there was no common thread that I could identify.
It's no exaggeration to say I was driven to the edge of insanity by this seemingly unsolvable mystery.
I cannot sleep at night because every time I closed my eyes,
I saw the salesman's grinning face.
Charlie hanging in his jail cell and Fatima bleeding to death on the street.
I just couldn't understand why this was all happening and what the hell it had to do with me.
it was during one of these sleepless nights.
Is that getting picked up on the mic?
Hey, set the mood.
It was during one of those sleepless nights
when the salesman returned.
I was lying fully clothed on my bed,
staring up at the dark ceiling, exhausted,
but unable to sleep.
The clock had just turned to 3 a.m.,
and that's when I heard a familiar loud knocking
on my front door.
I instantly shot up for my mattress,
all my senses hide in as a surge,
of adrenaline shot through my veins. I practically ran to the front door, sparing no thought for my
personal safety as I opened it, came face to face with the shadowy figure standing on my doorstep.
His face was illuminated by my porch light, but even so it took a moment for me to recognize him.
It was the salesman, of course, the apparently paranormal entity who went by the name of Mr. Black,
but he looked different from the last time I'd seen him. Gone was the spark in his eyes and his
wide grin had disappeared. Instead, the poor man looked as if he'd
been dragged to Helen back and was practically on the brink of death.
I stood in the doorway, my jaw dropping in shock as I found myself lost for words.
In the end, it was the salesman who broke the silence, speaking to me in a deep and raspy voice.
Good evening, sir. I apologize for the late hour of my visit. May I come in?
I paused for only a second before replying enthusiastically. Yes, of course.
I made way for the elderly visitor, watching with some degree of sense.
sympathy as he struggled down the corridor whilst relying on his walking stick to keep him steady.
It seemed that his physical condition had deteriorated in the months since his last visit,
but my primary interest was the familiar briefcase he carried in his left hand
because I knew what it contained, the knowledge I desired most in the world.
I followed him into my living room, turning on the lights as I impatiently watched the salesman
struggle over to his seat. I was frustrated that he didn't open his case and pull out the encyclopedia.
Instead, he simply stared at me with his bloodshot eyes.
There was another tense pause before he spoke,
and I sensed the sadness in his words when he did so.
So, you tracked down Charles and Fatima.
I did.
Was my brief reply.
And you know what happened to them?
I do.
So there's a question you wanted to ask me.
There is?
Who the hell is Underwood?
The salesman appeared deep in thought for a moment.
breaking eye contact
as he slowly nodded his head.
Hmm.
Underwood, yes.
My employer has used this name for some time.
Trelled off without offering a further explanation.
But there are hundreds of Underwood.
I exclaimed in frustration.
The name comes up again and again throughout history.
But there's no connection.
No connection you can find.
You think of these Underwoods as individuals,
but in actual fact, they are all vessels of my employer.
All are on one of...
All are one and the same, being the magistrate, the detective, the attorney, the government minister, and of course, your father.
Dun, dun, dun.
Those last two words hit me like a ton of bricks.
I was shocked, of course, but also filled with an excitement I can hardly describe as the truth was finally revealed to me.
My father?
How was that possible?
Oh, it's possible.
I noticed how he took little to know.
pleasure and revealing this information to me. In fact, he almost seemed guilty as he struggled to
meet my gaze. Your mother no doubt had her reasons for keeping the truth from you, but my employer's
blood runs through your veins. Your heritage brings great power with it, but also considerable
expectations. What do you mean? I was quickly growing tired of the salesman's cryptic answers.
I noted how his tone darkened before he continued. My employer has wore tirelessly throughout the
in centuries to shape the history of human beings.
during this time.
He has attempted to recruit many mortals to his cause,
but the result has been disappointing.
Take Mr. Robinson and Mrs. Abraham as two examples.
We had high hopes for both, but alas, they both came up wanting.
What the hell does that mean?
Your friends were tested and they failed.
My employer expects you to do much better.
You are in the flesh and blood after all.
What does you want me to do?
The salesman shot me a half grin
For a moment I thought I could see some of the spark
Come back into his sunken eyes
He didn't answer my question
Not directly anyway
Instead he changed the subject and asked a question of his own
You look unwell, sir
Have you been sleeping?
I was baffled and irritated
Struggling to find the words to reply
No, of course I haven't
He said thoughtfully as he carefully
Reached into his briefcase
I yearned to see the encyclopedia emerge
But instead he surprised me
me by pulling out what looked like a business card.
I looked on in confusion as the salesman set up from his chair and struggled across the room
towards me with the card in hand.
You really should see a doctor, sir.
You can't take your health for granted, not when there's so much important work ahead of us.
With that, he carefully placed the business card on the coffee table in front of me before heading
towards the door.
I looked over at him and was tempted to shout out, but instead I glanced down at the card
on the table, and then I understood.
because the text read, Dr. Mark Underwood, MD, family physician, opened to new patients.
I heard my front door slam shut as the salesman walked out into the night, but now it no longer mattered.
I knew what had to be done, and it was up to me to prepare for the grizzly task to come.
I didn't waste any time in planning my next move.
After obtaining all the information, after obtaining all the information I could on my target,
I destroyed my electronic devices,
Don gloves, scarf,
baseball cap,
and armed myself
with the 38 revolver and stiletto dagger.
This would have been
a 10 out of 10 story
if the author revealed
his name was Mark David Chapman
and he was going to kill John Lennon.
That would have been an excellent turn of events, I feel.
So I'm confused here because
the other two, like, had ancestors
that were condemned by an Underwood, right?
And he just finds out his dad's Underwood.
And he's like, oh, so I got to kill him.
Right?
That's kind of the idea I get that through the centuries
and Underwood has employed a Mr. Black to kind of like do their bidding
and bring these things about.
But I don't know what the objective is.
But.
Yeah, it's weird that you would take two people start by an Underwood and you'd be like,
well, then we're hoping they work out.
They didn't.
So now why don't we have his son kill his,
dad, but he doesn't have any revelation or anything that makes him want to kill his dad.
Well, maybe that's what's what's like.
That's true. That's true. But he doesn't have, but the other two at least had premonitions before
they decided to kill. Yeah. Yeah. Because you see, it wasn't my intention to confront this
Dr. Underwood and demand answers. My plan was to kill him. People reading this confession might
be confused by the sudden and dramatic escalation in my actions. After all, I am a man with no previous
criminal history or inclination towards violence.
I had no reason to hate Dr. Mark Underwood or wish him harm.
The salesman had informed me that a man called Underwood was my father and I believed him.
But this Dr. Underwood was the same age as me and so could it possibly be my parent.
Okay.
I mean, it doesn't make sense to kill him yet, but not his dad.
None of that mattered, however.
It seemed that all these Underwoods were one and the same.
Vessels for a greater unseen power.
All the pieces were in front of me now and I finally.
finally understood what was required of me.
Charlie and Fatima had both failed in their missions.
They'd both come from a place of anger,
seeking vengeance against those who'd wronged their ancestors.
But I was going into this with a clear head,
and I felt no moral qualms about ending the vessel's existence.
I would kill him and fulfill my destiny.
I arrived at the address on the card,
which was located off a busy commercial street,
and I slowly walked along the pavement with my head down
and the cap covering my faces I tried to avoid attention
and conceal my identity for many.
CCTV cameras. My weapons were hidden in my jacket pockets. The gun was my primary and the dagger my
backup, but I wouldn't draw my revolver until the last possible moment. I arrived to the front entrance
of the surgery, pausing as I read the motif name printed on the glass door and confirmed I had
the right address. I purposefully arrived at lunchtime when the surgery would be closed and near
empty. I therefore expected the door to be locked and so was surprised to find it left open.
It all seemed a little too easy
and I'll admit to feeling a pang of apprehension in that moment
but this soon passed as I carefully pushed open the door with my left hand
I entered the reception area and found it abandoned
even the front desk was unattended as presumably the receptionist was out for lunch
so far so good I thought
next I walked behind the reception and soon found Dr. Underwood's surgery
discovering the door wide open
I hesitated for a time as I cast my eyes upon my target
watching him as he typed on his keyboard and remained engrossed in his work.
Underwood was a handsome man, neat and well turned out, but surprisingly unremarkable.
There was nothing to mark him out as a paranormal entity or indeed anything other than a dedicated family physician.
I had serious doubts in that late moment, fearing I'd made a terrible mistake,
and I stood frozen within decision in the doorway,
my hand on the butt of my gun as I desperately tried to decide what to do next.
It didn't take long for the doctor to notice,
me. Must have since my presence or spotted the shadow I cast because he called out to me without
looking up from his computer screen. I'm afraid the surgery is closed. Please come back later.
I didn't answer. Instead, slowly removing the gun from my jacket pocket. He tutted an annoyance,
turning his head away from his monitor. But once he saw me, Dr. Underwood's eyes lit up with
recognition, even though I'd never met him before. Oh, it's you. I was wondering when you
turn up.
He frown when he saw the gun in my hand now shaking.
So that's how you want a plan to do it?
He asked more with curiosity than concern.
Well, sir, let's get on with it then.
With that, he surprised me by leaping up from his chair and physically jumping on top of his desk.
He crashed on all fours.
His eyes filled with a predatory zeal as he hissed like an angry cat and showed me his
concerningly sharp teeth.
Huh?
Whatever.
I was frozen in shock, reacting too slowly as I raised my gun and aimed.
A split second later, the doctor turned monster launched him...
Whoa.
Launched himself off the desk and leapt towards me, with his eyes wide and fangs exposed.
I screamed in terror, firing a single shot which missed the target.
Underwood hit me like a freight train a second later,
pushing me out of the room and pinning my body to the carpet while the gun was simultaneously knocked out of
of my hand. He was on top of me now. Saliva dripping from his fain-filled maas. He held me down firmly.
Come on, my boy. Right here, let me do that again. Come on, my boy. Is that all you can muster?
The green goblin voices fit in, I think.
It definitely feels like a defoe character.
With that, he wrapped his hands around my throat and started to squeeze. I couldn't breathe as he
slowly strangled me, and I gas-free air as my eyes bulged. I must have been close to black
out, but I was determined not to die like this. Digging deep into my reserves, I reached
into my pocket and withdrew the dagger, thrusting it deep into my attacker's thigh. He cried out in pain
and loosened his grip upon my throat. This gave me an opportunity, and I kicked out with all my
strength, forcing Underwood off me. He staggered as blood poured from the wound in his leg,
but Underwood was far from beaten. I went for him again with the dagger, but he easily dodged
the attack, punching me hard on the nose and throwing me back into the office. I pulled
myself up from the floor and turned just as Underwood launched a new attack.
I held out the knife but he grabbed my wrist and twisted hard, forcing me to drop the blade.
I barely had time to recover before he hit me again and shoved me back down to the ground.
Stunned and terrified, I washed his Underwood calmly walked over to where the knife had fallen, stooping over to pick it up.
Very, very disappointing. I expected so much more from you, my son.
that certainly struck a nerve and I knew it was now or never.
I scanned the floor, catching side of my silver revolver only inches from where I lay.
Underwood was now advancing upon me, knife in hand as he prepared to finish the job.
I darted across the floor, grabbing hold of the gun and rolling over before I lifted the weapon and aimed.
Underwood was right on top of me, but this time I had the drop on him.
I squeezed the trigger, firing one, two, and then three shots.
under rope was struck three times in the chest.
Barely reacted at first.
Looking down in surprise at the blood
leaking from the bullet wounds,
seeping through his previously white shirt.
He looked at me in his last moment,
managing a half smile, as he said.
Well played, sir.
You just get shot in the chest.
Well played.
Sir.
A gentleman's game.
A dew.
Materializes a fedora.
You win this round, sir.
So that's how you want to play this, huh?
Thank God I have my cat fang
so I can just get shot in the chest and be done with this.
In real life, a very funny thing to say when you're shot.
Well played, sir.
Fucking lungs filling with blood.
We've played.
One of the funniest last words ever.
there's this dude
he was some rider or something
but he was dying in a hospital
and his condition was bad
and a nurse walked into the room
and he was setting upright
in his bed and the nurse goes
oh you're looking better today
and he goes on the contrary
and dies
really?
Yeah
on the contrary
on the contrary
that's good
and with that
he dropped heavily to the floor
and didn't get back up again.
I continued to hold the smoking gun in my shaking hand,
hardly believing what I'd just done.
Suddenly, I became aware of a new figure standing in the doorway.
I span around and aimed by hell my fire once I recognized a familiar face.
It was a salesman, his trusty briefcase in hand,
and his sunken eye is emotionless as he looked over the dead underwood
before turning his attention towards me.
Congratulations, sir.
You have succeeded where so many others have failed.
Now, I believe it's high time.
that you met my employer. I was still trying to work out what he met when I suddenly became
lightheaded. My eyes slowly closed and as the darkness took me. I woke in a strange and
frightening place, experiencing a stifling heat as I pulled myself up from a rocky surface and
adjusted my eyes to my new surroundings. Is this hell? Does he go straight to hell? It's crazy.
Inexplicably, I'd been transported to a dark and foreign realm, finding myself inside what
looked like a great hall car from rock, dimly illuminated by burning torches.
I slowly and cautiously walked upon my shaking legs, scanning the hall in fearful awe,
whilst noting the high ceiling above my head.
The light from the wall-mounted torches allowed me to see the guards lined up on either side of a long walkway,
which cut down the middle of the hall.
These soldiers looked like men, although I suspected they weren't of the mortal realm.
They all wore bronze armor and helmets like those of a Roman centurion,
and each was armed with a long spear and round shield.
the guards stood in tight formation, not moving a muscle as I sheepishly walked past them,
although I noticed how their dark, menacing eyes closely followed my progress.
I continued walking towards the front of the hall, which was dominated by a great throne of
cold iron, and upon its head a giant wearing black robes, bald-headed, but with a crown
of thorns placed on top of his huge skull.
Is this Jesus?
Crown of them?
I don't think so.
with a crown of thorns imagery is again he took the appearance of a man but must have been at least eight
foot tall and was well built to boot but his bulging muscles visible underneath his robes
he was eating when i approached him greedily devouring a large slab of red meat on the bone the blood
pouring down his chin while he washed his meal down taking large gulbs from a substantial golden
tankard filled with god knows what he finished eating and look it's two in the morning right now
if a hundred and I were in a different state of mind,
this would be like, uh,
what's going on, freak out or whatever,
but, I mean, I have so many things.
I just don't want to be negative.
Go ahead.
I never said don't be negative.
Is it even constructive?
I mean, I don't care.
You think I care?
No.
Look, under different circumstances,
this is going from like encyclopedia,
salesman,
Dr. Death, whatever, like showing up and then generational torment.
And now he is,
is in hell talking to the devil
and not just like the devil
like the devil from
the
um
who's the guy that did Old Town Road
Lil Nas X music video
this is the devil from that video
muscles in all with the robot
like every stereotype
don't forget saber tooth
Willem Defoe like there's a lot
chest three times there's a lot of stuff
where we where it's late and we've just
been reading through this and we're like yeah
well digesting the story.
Spider-Man.
And then the green goblin shows up with demon teeth
and gets shot to death.
And now he is in hell with the devil.
Who the under,
who Underwood was apparently a vessel for the devil
throughout history, I guess.
And you can just shoot him in the chest.
And the devil, when he dies, goes,
well played, sir.
He finished eating and thoughtlessly tossed the bone
onto the ground.
I watched as a ragged man in chain
scurried across the floor and scooped up the discarded bone,
while a second figure, a woman,
refilled the giants tankered without comment.
Both appeared to have the statues of slaves in this hellish realm,
the status of slaves in this hellish realm.
They soon meekly disappeared in the shadows.
And that's obviously Charles and Fatima, blah, blah, blah.
A fourth figure was also present.
A small man who carried behind the throne and would not meet my eye.
It was only when I got closer that I recognized this meek individual.
It was a salesman.
His head bowed as he maintained a tight grip on his book of red leather,
the fabled encyclopedia,
which was the source of his power and knowledge.
The salesman was obviously submissive
to the giant set upon the throne,
and so I focused my attention upon him.
The giant saw me approach,
his cold eyes of icy blue,
lighting up in anticipation as he formed his still
bloody lips into a crude smile.
Ah, here he is.
He announced in a booming voice,
which echoed throughout the hall.
Here's the man of the hour,
my own flesh and blood.
Come to clean his rightful place by my side.
Instead of the foot of the mighty throne
Looking up in awe as I struggled to find the words to respond
Who?
What are you?
First thing you say to the devil
The giant bellowed laughter
Before answering
Oh
Ah
Ah
Ah
Ah
Ah
Ah
Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha
Oh
Oh
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
Come now.
You are intelligent young man
and so can surely guess my identity.
I've been trying so hard not to crash out.
In truth, I go by mini name.
This is the capital D devil.
Both in this realm and the world above.
And he's described...
I am king here.
He's described like Odin from the long of the movies.
But you may call me
father.
so he has to kill the devil in the real world to be the prince of hell
and all that takes to kill the devil is to shoot him
well that was probably just like some proxy test right
he just like sent some minion and just like uh yeah but he's like oh underwood's my boss
my my hot employer or whatever and then so on this girl had witchcraft and she
tried to kill the devil with witchcraft and what is that last word hung in the
and the chilling implications made me feel sick to my the stomach.
What in the hell it had I got myself into?
Was this the destiny I'd stopped for so long?
What the hell?
Ha, ha, ha.
What do you want from me?
The demons, sadistic grin widened before he replied.
I want you to be the man you were born to be.
You have passed your first test.
But there is still so much work to be done.
Bring me the book.
You know.
Oh!
So there's very few...
Okay.
You're going to take a story
and you're going to take something
as like ancient and old
and concept as the devil, right?
And it's not even from like
an O.M. Christian Do you want to talk about the devil.
That's fine.
You can do demogic works.
The exorcist, right?
Very terrifying way to portray a devil
and demons and stuff like that.
No problem with depicting it.
The problem is anytime you try to
depict it like this, it's so lame.
it's like this big guy on a throne who likes chortling to himself and drinking from a cup that's the father of sin that's the father of malice and contempt and my boy yeah that what you're looking at right now is the face of discord come to be the face of malice you were needed to be which you always meant to be literally I'm the devil who
It's so lame.
It's so dumb to be like,
what if the monster of all evil,
like the birth of wrong
and the darkness to every part of light,
what if that was like this really tall,
mussely dude in a chair?
He just, hurry, one second.
Goes over to his iPod and scroll through it to Spotify.
One second.
Plays.
If I don't want you, then I don't need you.
Starts playing beautiful people.
Whalen Manson.
Hey, yeah, what do you say?
This is what the devil likes.
I'm your papa.
It's just so lame.
I was being so good for so long,
but this is literally,
this is Loki.
This is Avengers.
We've been recording.
We've been,
Marvel's Avengers Loki.
We've been recording for three hours.
What do you mean we've been recording?
This episode.
Almost two and a half.
Since we got back,
there's no one.
Total. Yeah, yeah.
Is this, is this the,
be honest, Isaiah.
Is this the worst night of your life going from Ice Cream Man into Encyclopedia salesmen?
No, because I'm with friends and we're having a good time with it.
And it's for content and a job I'm blessed to do.
As far as the media I've consumed, probably.
Probably.
I can't think of something that really compares it.
I remember when I started dating Kayla.
I watched Goodfellas and there will be blood back to back in a night.
And this is cosmic penance for that.
give us one more bellow
I was being so good
I said you can crash out
and I'll hold on to this story
and I'm like you know what
not for me but you know the encyclopedia
stuff people learning about old history
and stuff like that I will
endure I will survive
and now it's like what if the devil
was a muscular guy in a chair
and that's the stupidest way you can do the devil
with a story that had nothing to do with the devil up until now.
You know what I wanted to do earlier?
What?
Well, I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped up four-wheel drive
and carved my name into his leather seas.
I took a Louisville slugger to both headlines,
slash a hole in all four times,
Maybe next time I'll think before he chees
Oh, maybe next time I'll think
Before he cheats
Oh
That's exactly what I imagine that might as well be
Come son
Sit down in my
retro gaming corner.
Play Prince of Pursia with me.
I have a full memory
car to do whatever you like with.
Cut this.
Funny you should say that, son.
Come, son.
Play tack and the power of juju
or by PS2.
That's a cool game.
Do you like the chicken suit, son?
I don't even like...
It's so deliciously evil. It's not even medieval.
It's not even medieval depictions of the devil.
It's just like, what if the devil was like a comedic, like, middle ages English king?
Comedicist, or the devil is, uh, sin mad.
Literally.
That's like, what if?
I bet you're wondering where I've been.
Well, like you know, welcome to good burger.
What if the devil was Jafar?
That's, it's like where.
Jafar's kind of sexy.
Okay.
Don't people say that?
Yeah, people like Jafar.
Jafar as evil red genie looks pretty.
crazy. That'd be a good devil.
That's pretty much what this is.
He clicked his fingers
in the salesman, cheapishly walked
up to the throne, reluctantly handing over
his precious encyclopedia,
which his master snatched up in his
huge hand. He aggressively flicked through
the pages while his servant slinked back into
the shadows, then the demon who claimed
to be my father started to read.
And his spoken words transported me to another
place in time as I witnessed visions
of my future. Firstly, I found
myself standing on a podium decorated with
banners and flow. Oh, is he the Antichrist? Is he the Antichrist? Is that what this? Is this an
Antichrist origin story? I hate the smirk you're doing right now.
This whole story about the encyclopedia sells when people going back in time is an Antichrist
origin story. You know, it's funny at some point in the last like 10 paragraphs, uh, we switched.
The crash out. We split because now he's eating it up.
now he's he's I can see it in his stupid face he is loving this right now I found myself
standing on podium decorated with banners and flags giving a victory speech to a fanatical
crowd of cheering supporters my supporters a cult dedicated to serve me next came a vast military
procession down a wide city street which I observed from a balcony high above thousands of
black clad troops marched in tight formation saluting towards
me as they goose stepped up on the asphalt. He might be Hitler. Um, they were soon followed by tanks
and other military hardware while squadron of fighter jets flew above our heads. Then came a vision
of a prison camp surrounded by barbed wire fences and guard towers. Inside of the cordon were
thousands of emaciated, this is, is he actually Hitler? There's no. There's not, that. It can't be.
It has to be like the anti-crisis, like Hitler adjacent, like the same visuals.
inside of the cordon were thousands of emaciated, beaten down prisoners.
Their eyes filled with fear and hunger as they pleaded for mercy they would surely not receive.
It's fair to say that I was extremely disturbed by the image.
Yeah, it can't because of the fighter jets.
It's moderate.
Yeah.
It's just using Hitler for what the antichrist would look like.
It's fair to say that I was extremely disturbed by the images filling my head,
but it only got worse as the demon's chilling words brought me to some very dark places.
I saw a city engulf by flames.
cloud towering above the ruins as millions were surely killed in a nuclear inferno. More horrific
images of war and suffering followed and I realized that I was responsible for this future apocalypse.
And eventually, I abandoned the devastated Earth, looking down upon the planet's ravaged surface from orbit as I was blasted into the stratosphere.
Finally, did you just crap your pants?
What? Did you just crap your pants?
No. I think you farted, but it sounded so wet.
No, no, I wish
that'd be nice. That would be so funny
if you just, the final part
of this just blew your
pants out.
And finally, I stood within a vast
dome biosphere, looking upon a
flat earth, looking upon a red,
lifeless desert. Those living
besides me were my most fanatical
and loyal supporters. These folk
were dedicated to me and my vision
and here to help me build a new world
while billions were left behind to suffer and die
or doomed home planet.
With that, I was returned to the hellish throne room.
My body's shaking as I looked into the ruthless blue eyes of my demonic so-called father.
I was revolted and felt a fiery, defiance deep in my belly,
finding the courage to stand up to the monster set before me.
This is horrifying.
The prince of darkness,
the father of evil, the prince of the air.
This is scary.
What do I do?
I'm so scared right now
Am I the Antichrist
Be honest
Don't lie to me
Be honest
Am I like the antichrist
Am I like Hitler too
I don't even speak German
Spreggency Deutsch
Can we speak like Chinese or something
I can learn that
I know some Mandarin
The demon merely struck his shoulders
Before
That depends on your perspective
I consider this
necessary barge of history
it's monstrous and I will not
be a part of it
why did the devil
shrug why is he smirking and
shortling and shrugging
every horrible thing that's ever
happened is the
cause and effect of his
will on earth and he shrugs
and smirks
and makes these little games
or you have to shoot a doctor.
I was trying so hard.
It's so late at night.
I was trying so hard.
I flew in so early this morning.
I'm so tired.
It's been so long.
I'm fucking big.
You told me.
You told me.
I fought.
I fought so hard.
You think they don't love this?
You think they don't like this?
I don't think they like me being like this.
I don't think they do.
I think, oh, I think they do.
I've seen the Reddit post.
I've seen what they get out of the show.
I've seen the drawings of my lips.
I know exactly what these animals want, and this is close.
The devil is a Reddit mod.
This story is called the encyclopedia salesman.
How did we get here?
Ow.
Just hit your cock?
Owry.
I instantly regretted my outburst as I expected the demon to react with fury.
But it's, you know what?
I instantly regretted my outbursts as I expected the demon to react with fury,
but instead he retained his cool composure,
his horrific grin barely faltering as he spoke his words through clenched teeth.
Oh, I think you will, my child.
You forgot my blood ruins through your veins.
And in truth, I know you better when than you know yourself,
and I know the darkness which dwells inside of you.
The savagery, cruelty,
and lust for absolute power
just waiting to break out.
He paused briefly to let that ominous sentence sink in.
And there's another reason.
The events you've witnessed,
the words in this book,
and the events of the war to come.
This will happen with or without you.
And you don't want to disappoint me, my son.
Failure comes with a heavy price.
He clicked his fingers and two figures
emerged from the shadows behind me.
It was the two slaves who had served his food and drink,
the man in the one.
and barely looked at them before, but now I saw their terrified faces and their mad bloodshot eyes.
There's a sudden spark of recognition in my exhausted brain as I thought back to the photographs
on the social media accounts and news reports. The chainslays were Fatima and Charles. They had both
failed the demon king and were now condemned to serve him for all eternity, trapped at the whim
of his cruel sadism in this hellish realm. And I knew this would be my fate too if I refused him.
I was left speechless, looking down at the rocky ground, as I couldn't bear to see the suffering
former companions what companions he talked to them some and they said they were gonna kill people
what just whatever well said the demon and more conciliators with town now you know the truth my boy
it's time for you to return to the mortal realm think carefully about what i've said and know
that i'm always with you he clicked his finger once again and i was consumed by darkness
I lost consciousness, and when I awoke, I was back on the couch in my front room, back where this had all begun.
I've had much time to think since my extraordinary experience, but I can't find any logical explanation for what I've been through.
The murder of Dr. Underwood went unsolved. The police and media believed he was killed during an attempted robbery gone wrong.
There's no evidence of my involvement in the murder or any links discovered between Fatima Charlie and me.
It was like everything had been covered up by a hidden power. The only conclusion I can
come to is that it's all genuine, just in the story, is that it's all genuine. It's not just what I've
seen and heard. I can feel it deep in my bones. The darkness inside me is all too real, and I can't
suppress it any longer. I don't know whether the future I've seen is set in stone. Perhaps the
apocalyptic war can be avoided. Maybe I can prevent it if I make different decisions, or
alternatively, the world could be doomed, and the best I can do is to save a select few who can start
again.
I guess I'll be the...
I guess I'll be the Antichrist.
If that's what Dad wants.
I love the devil.
One thing's for certain, however.
I've been chosen for this great task and I immediately change a pace.
Well, maybe I can say a few people.
I have been chosen for a great...
One thing's for certain, however,
I've been chosen for this great task and I've proven my worth in my father's eyes.
The future is mine to shape, and I will not fall short.
I'll never tell you my name, but you will come to know me very well in the coming years.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an election to campaign for.
All right, cool.
Encyclopedia salesman by Woon Licker.
I'm going to go on a limb.
I'm going to go on a limb, and I'm going to officially,
this is i'm going to give it an award i'm going to i'm going to i'm going to my my least favorite
story we've ever read i'm going to i i i'm putting that up on a shelf so my current frustrations
which are visible obviously um are mostly because a story titled once again the encyclopedia
yeah i know a story called the encyclopedia salesman
became a story about the Antichrist,
who becomes the Antichrist by shooting a doctor
because a witch descendant and a serial killer descendant
couldn't kill a dude named Underwood.
Different dudes, by the way.
One of them just had to kill him and they'd be the Antichrist, I guess.
So...
No plate.
Yeah, that's where the Antichrist comes from.
Even though, even if in the end,
he was the devil's son, I guess,
his mom got not got rosemary's baby.
Even if he's the son, I guess the other people who were just hurt by the devil,
which if that's the case in Underwood's the devil throughout history,
then that means the witches that were using no, no bridge, no, they were doing medicine.
Like in this story, witches that were using demonic power were being burning.
at the stake by the devil, according to this, the Underwood. So for some reason, one of those
girls' descendants can also be the Antichrist, but then after the devil burns through his two
reserves, he's like, I'll just have my son do it, I guess. The story is the equivalent of being
stuck in a grocery line or in the parking lot where the grocery, the grocery store line is
you're waiting your turn and the person behind you is talking to you and you have nowhere to go
or in the parking lot, a guy is talking to you
and you're continuously slowly trying to back away
and be like, all right, well, I'll see you, or whatever.
And the person continuously talks,
and there's like really nothing of substance.
I legitimately, and I'm curious, and I don't want to be a hater.
But I'm very curious.
I really don't know what I'm supposed to take away from this story.
I really don't know what there was no enjoyable
part of it for me.
I don't...
At the beginning,
where it's an old man
who has an encyclopedia
that tells you of your life
and the idea that like
there's these other people
who have some dark connection
that you share
can be done interesting.
Completely lost me
when it's like,
yeah, it's the Antichrist
and you have to kill the devil
and he looks like the green goblin.
Does this all accumulate
because the guys just like I'm just why
just want to finish it?
No, I think,
I think surely
it was always going to be an Antichrist story.
and then the Mr. Blacks
like the demon who comes and
shows some stuff.
I will say
obviously despite my
hang-ups
you
I feel like
you're a little biased because it's late
and because it's a third story we've read
and it went on for so long. I can promise you.
I do not think this is our worst story.
This is not worse than Happy Happy Happy.
I can promise you I had more fun
reading Happy Happy Happy. This is not worse than Happy
Happy, Baroscow 5.
Oh, Barowski 5 is infinitely better.
No.
Infinitely.
No.
Infinity sign.
No.
Infinity.
No. Infinity.
No. Infinity sign.
No.
Infinity. No. Infinity sign.
No. Infinity sign. No.
Infinity.
I think this is my new goat, dude.
I think so.
I think it's a perfect...
Not to me, not to me.
I mean, honestly, the encyclopedia salesman being about the devil and the
antichrist, I feel like it's too outlandish for me to consider it completely forgettable.
The worst thing about this story is that I think it is forgettable.
I think that it's, uh, I don't think that there's anything that really merits itself.
to ever be memorable, anything that really lends itself to being like a fun, creative thought
besides the idea that it's like, well, this one's about a witch, and you don't really
linger with them at all in any important way. One of them's a serial killer, one of them's a witch.
He shoots a guy in the chest and has like a duel with him, goes to hell, meets his dad. He gets
teleported back, and then he says to himself, and then he says, I don't know, I feel kind of weird about it.
But if you, but I'm glad I made daddy happy.
But if dad needs me, I'll be the anti-crise to bring the world to nuclear war.
What is that even? What does that?
What does that mean?
I'll kill billions. Yeah. I will kill billions because dad asked me to.
That's the conclusion comes.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a political campaign.
It's also too long.
He's certainly a competent writer technically.
And I think that if you enjoy stories in this tone,
there's a lot of there for you please enjoy it hunter and i as is a parent do not and that is okay
8.42 out of 10 on creepypossa dot com 124 votes 8.4 out of 10 that is a lot of people like that
i'd if i can be so blunt i'd give it a 9
give it a 9 out of 10 i'd probably give it a 9 thought it was good i look at the characters had
names.
I appreciated that.
I thought that was great.
I'm going to tell you right now when I wake up tomorrow.
I'm not going to remember a single thing about this.
Then I think we ended here.
Well, that's our episode today.
Thank you so much for watching Creepcast, guys.
We appreciate you.
Until next time, guys, I hope you stay creeped.
And I hope, honestly, I hope that you guys have a beautiful rest of your day.
Just cut it.
Just cut it.
Just cut it.
