CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - 7 SCARY Reddit r/Nosleep Horror Stories to unwind to after a long day

Episode Date: July 5, 2021

CREEPYPASTA STORIES-►0:00 "I Bought a Used iPad. The Notes Tell a Disturbing Story "Creepypasta►17:46 "If you find yourself next to a circle of land where nothing grows, don't listen to it" Creepypasta►36:11 "I’m a bone jewellery merchant on Etsy; The deer skull wasn’t mine to take Creepypasta►49:55 "The NPC Problem" Creepypasta►1:20:59 "Don't play the Hatchetman Cove game" Creepypasta►1:35:03 "My Wife Won't Stop Praying" CreepypastaCreepypastas are the campfire tales of the internet. Horror stories spread through Reddit r/nosleep, forums and blogs, rather than word of mouth. Whether you believe these scary stories to be true or not is left to your own discretion and imagination. LISTEN TO CREEPYPASTAS ON THE GO-SPOTIFY► https://open.spotify.com/show/7l0iRPd...iTUNES► https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast...CREEPY THUMBNAIL ART BY►David Benoist: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/mwDVESUGGESTED CREEPYPASTA PLAYLISTS-►"Good Places to Start"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g7YCb...►"Personal Favourites"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEa2R...►"Written by me"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gX6RA...►"Long Stories"- https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list...FOLLOW ME ON-►Twitter: https://twitter.com/Creeps_McPasta►Instagram: https://instagram.com/creepsmcpasta/►Twitch: http://www.twitch.tv/creepsmcpasta►Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CreepsMcPastaCREEPYPASTA MUSIC/ SFX- ►http://bit.ly/Audionic ♪►http://bit.ly/Myuusic ♪►http://bit.ly/incompt ♪►http://bit.ly/EpidemicM ♪-This creepypasta is for entertainment purposes only-

This weekend I'm in a while I'm not as I'm not on think. Oh, that dossier that morning off must be more as I'm too

on think. Oh, van't after the night at a duel tournoe I'm a moose if I'm a new as I'm not

on the going to come. Give you yourself then a boost with bio-cure Maxshot Liquid three

up-hept plants, magnesium, iceer, an energy booster to make then to come to come out

bio-cure macshot liquid. Foodings Supplement forc-mire by the apotheker. The iPad looked to be in pristine condition, almost as good as new, except for a few scuff marks on the screen. Nothing seemed broken on it, and the picture showed it working perfectly.

I knew as soon as I saw it that it had to be mine. Part of my brain told me that it was too good to be true. $40 for a new iPad in mint condition? Something's going on here. But the cheapscape part of my brain won over. and eventually I found myself setting up a meeting place for the purchase. Both me and the owner of the device agreed that the best place to meet up would be at his house, since it was fairly close to my place and there was no good place to rendezvous between my place and his.

He did give me some bizarre instructions for when I arrived at his house. His email told me to grab the iPad off the porch and slip the money under his door mat. When I attempted to ask him why he couldn't just come out to talk to me, He didn't respond. I should probably have had more doubts about the whole arrangement after that, but I was so blinded by such a good deal that it didn't bother asking any more questions. Soon enough, it came time to make the purchase. I drove the 15 minutes to his house, which was in a decent enough neighbourhood.

The lawns were well trimmed and the houses looked clean and well cared for. As soon as I pulled into his driveway, however, I could tell that my new business partner's home was the exception. There were weeds growing through the cracks in the sidewalk, and the front porch was covered in random junk like chairs, radios, and other assorted novelties. I wondered why the Homeowners Association wasn't onto his ass by now. As I neared the door, I noticed a putrid smell coming from inside. I made the executive decision to hurry up and get out of here as fast as I could.

resting upon the welcome mat was a glorious box that apparently held my new device I bought the $40 out of my pocket and slid it under the mat before I left I called out thank you then I booked it out of there and back to my house the house just gave me a bad feeling like something bad happened or was about to happen there as I was sitting down in my living room to open the cardboard box that stored the device.

I noticed some words scrawled in large lettering on the bottom that I hadn't seen when I picked it up. Check the notes are. They read in giant messy handwriting.

I was extremely confused by this, but I decided to put the red flags on hold in my mind as I pulled out the iPad. It looked just like the pictures are shown.

It was in great work in order and only had a few marks on the screen. I turned it on and swiped up to unlock it. I noticed right away that the device apparently had not been factory reset. The wallpaper was customized to a picture of an enormous black lab and there were a number of apps downloaded that I was certain were not default iOS apps. I was about to go to settings and reset the iPad when I remember the words on the box.

I decided, just for the fun of it, to check the notes app. It probably was just a joke the original owner was trying to pull on me, but I decided to play along. I swiped over to the first screen with all the default apps, like photos and maps, and tapped on notes. Immediately, I saw there were three notes. The timestamps on each of them showed that they had been written at around the same time,

about an hour before I had arrived at the iPad owner's house. I decided to read the notes in chronological order from the time that they were written. This is an exact transcript of what they said. June 12, 2021, 12.17 p.m. I need to tell this to someone. I know that no one will believe me, and I'm not sure what good it'll be if you do.

I'm too far gone by now anyway. I should probably start at the beginning. I was living a decently normal life. I spent most of my time at work with my dog, Lacey, which you probably saw as my wallpaper. I worked from home and was perfectly happy. However, one day, I began to feel extremely odd. My ears would pop randomly and my mouth would dry up.

As I was working, I found it harder and harder to concentrate on what I was doing. I'm a very focused person, so this is of normal for me. My mind would wonder to random things and I would lose my train of thought. I didn't think much of all this because I figured I would feel better the next day But as the hours passed The symptoms would get worse And it began to feel a headache

I went to sleep Hoping that rest would make it better But the next day My headache had morphed into a pounding migraine At times the pain would subside But after an hour or so The pain would always come back Stronger

This went on for several days I set up appointments with various doctors who each put me on some generic painkillers None of the meds ever worked And I was beginning to get desperate I started vomiting frequently And after a week My vomit began to be mixed with blood

My sickness was progressing quickly But no doctor or specialist could pinpoint a cause or a solution All they ever did was give me a prescription for some drug That never did me any good A few weeks into my illness, I began noticing some bizarre things in and around my house. I occasionally heard footsteps in the night, shuffling along the floor outside my bedroom. Once or twice, I heard a raspy voice echoing from a nearby room. At first, I attributed these weird happenings to my sickness and ignored them.

They still unnerved me, but I didn't lend them much thought. All that I was concerned with was finding a concern. cure. I couldn't think of any way that I could have contracted the disease. I hadn't traveled in a long time and I usually kept myself. I wasn't able to work because of my symptoms and my life was miserable. I just wanted a way out. That was the end of the first note. I was somewhat confused, but I was also intrigued to see what happened next. I was still sure it was a prank, albeit a well-written one. I tapped on the next note,

wondering what happened in the next issue of this strange series of notes. June 12, 2021, 12.38 p.m. Like I said, I didn't think much about the voices or the footsteps. I try my best to ignore them, and eventually they just blended in with all my other miseries. They just became another obstacle preventing me from falling asleep at night.

Unfortunately, the sounds only got worse. The footsteps got louder and louder, and the voices became more and more frequent. The voice was raspy, but I couldn't tell if it belonged to a male or a female, or if it belonged to someone old or someone young. It was an unidentifiable voice. The voice would say very strange things.

I couldn't understand half of its words, but what I could make out disturbed me. It told me that I was worthless. It said that it was always watching me and that it was waiting for the right moment. What the right moment was, I may never know. I started to call my doctors and told them I was experiencing auditory hallucinations,

but they still couldn't help me. I even talked to a psychiatrist who provided just as much assistance as everyone else I had consulted. Late on a Friday night, I was laying in my bed, trying not to vomit, when I heard a noise come from outside my room. It sounded like glass shattering. I hadn't heard the voices or footsteps at night so far, but I figured it was just a hallucination. For some reason, however, I felt the strong compulsion to check. I was sure that the noise had come from my den, so I crawled out of bed just to look.

It took me a while to get there I was moving slowly and quietly because a part of me thought that this could have been a burglary I couldn't hear anything out of the ordinary so I continued on Eventually I arrived at the den What I saw

shook me to my very core There was my vase Which had been sitting on top of my end table mere hours ago lying shattered on the wooden floor. I also knew for a fact that it couldn't have fallen off on its own because I placed it as close to the wall as I could in order to keep it secure. I called the police but nothing came by their investigation.

There were no signs of forced entry and nothing had been stolen or moved besides the bars. After that I was paranoid. The noises kept coming back. Sometimes I saw things move. on their own accord, just slightly, as if they were nudged by the wind. I knew there couldn't be the case, however, since my windows were always closed and my air conditioner had been broken at the time. The illness was still increasing in severity, and I thought I was going crazy. My life was miserable. It had been over a month since my sickness started,

and things were only getting worse. I considered taking my own life, but I still held on to some small hope that things would get better. Soon enough. I started seeing things. At least that's what I thought. At first, I was walking down my hall to the bathroom. When I saw someone's back round the corner at the end of the hall, I ran after them, but they were gone.

The corner rounds off into my kitchen, and there was no sign of the person there. Similar things started happening after that. I'd walk into my room to see someone jumping out of my window, or I would see someone sland the door to a closet as I walked past. When I'd investigate these appearances, whoever it was would vanish. I could never get a good luck at the person. They seemed to be short, but I couldn't really tell. And they were always wearing white.

I was fully certain that these were hallucinations. I didn't want to believe that I was going insane. But that was the only logical conclusion. I decided to try and photograph these incidents with my iPad. I would keep it in my hands at all times, and every time I saw something strange moving or someone walking around, I would snap a picture. None of these photos ever turned out.

I still have them saved on the device you're reading this on. They look completely normal, like pictures of my hall or bedroom. I was living a nightmare. I was going completely insane. That was the end of the second note. By now, I was very unnerved. If this whole story was true, then why was this guy telling me this? It seemed a bit too bizarre to be real.

But I decided to finish reading before making any judgments. I flipped over to the third and final note and began reading the final chapter of this strange series. June 12th. 2021.104 p.m. I don't have much time, but I need to finish my story. I had given up all hope of photographing the sightings. Instead, I did my best to ignore them.

In fact, I gave up hope in general. I knew there was much hope of me getting better. I had to quit my job because I was still sick and couldn't work. I was neglecting my poor dog, Lacey. By now, I was a result. signed to my fate. I was sure I would die soon. I'm only writing this out because of what I saw yesterday. I had woken up in the dead hours of the night. My mouth was parched and I decided to grab a glass of water from the kitchen. I crawled out of bed using my iPad screen as a light to find my

way. As I stumbled grogly along, I began feeling very sick. I tried to hold back the urge to vomit and pushed on. As I was nearing the corner that turns off into the kitchen, I heard a sound coming from inside. It sounded like a raspy laugh or giggle. I shuddered, but I chalked it up to my hallucinations and entered the room. As soon as I stepped over the threshold into my kitchen, my heart dropped down into my stomach. I pulled up the iPad and took a picture of it, and this time it finally turned out. I'm not totally crazy. You can see it for yourself.

I think I'm being haunted. My hope is that by telling someone else, by sharing my experiences, I will have freed myself. I'm sorry if the ghosts have passed on to you. Maybe they will, maybe they won't. If they stay here with me, then at least someone else will know what happened to me.

Once the sickness begins, there is no escape. Unfortunately, I feel that I'm too far gone anyway, but I still have hope. That was the end of the notes. I was extremely confused, and I had no idea what to think. This had to be fake, just this guy trolling me. But I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and check the photos app. just to see what this mystery picture was.

I left the notes and tapped the photos. The gallery was filled with random pictures of doors, open windows and hallways. These were presumably the pictures the original owner of the iPad took when he saw those hallucinations. There was nothing of normal about them. But the last picture was the terrifying one. The sight has given me nightmares. The picture shows the kitchen with a camera pointing at the fridge.

The photo had clearly been taken with a flash turned on as it showed the body of a girl lit up with artificial light. The girl was wearing a flowing white dress with lace on the collar. She was unnaturally pale and her hair was jet black. In her hands, the girl was holding a small cloth doll that looked like an exact replica of her with the same clothes, hair and eyes. The eyes were definitely the creepiest part of the whole photograph. Her pupils weren't black. They were red. And they were staring straight at the camera.

Needless to say, I factory reset the device that very day. I couldn't shake the sight of that girl. Every time I close my eyes, I see her staring into my soul. It's a horrible feeling. I decided that the entire story was a prank. The original owner of the iPad had written the whole story and photoshop the picture just to scare me. I tried to go on about my life normally,

but unfortunately, I think the man was telling the truth. And I think his plan worked. Because I've recently started feeling sick and the usual meds won't cure it. I'm having trouble focusing. I've needed to take the last three days off of work. And what's worse?

Factory resetting the iPad didn't work. Because the picture of the little girl sitting on top of the fridge is still saved on the device. I have no idea what to do. Should I sell the tablet on Craigslist like the man did before it's too late? Or do I keep it here until I die? Hoping that the ghosts die with me. I hope someone out there knows what to do. I'm running out of options.

I grew up on a small town ranch in the Midwest region of the United States, on land that has been passed down in my family for generations. It can be brutal out there, with hot, dry summers that threaten to suck up every last drop of moisture from you, two unfortunate winters that trap everything outdoors and a deathly freeze. Despite all that, my family worked hard to make sure that I need, were always met, and that the crop survived. Mom and Pa were two of the hardest working people I've ever known,

and they were strict to keep the work going. Most rules that my mom and pa were strict about was simply a means to survive, such as stay indoors when the blizzard is coming, staying away from the rocky areas where the rattlesnakes hide, always keeping water on you during the summer months, etc. There was one rule, however, that stood apart from the rest, If we ever so much as considered breaking that rule, there'd be hell to pay.

That one rule was that we must never, under any circumstances, go anywhere near the land, when nothing grows. The land where nothing grows was a perfect circle in the southwest corner of the wheat filled. The golden field to vendor's wheat ended abruptly exactly where the circle started, as if the crops were scared to go a single inch over that line. The circle had a circumference of about a hundred feet, with crops growing around it in a perfectly curved line. Recall it the land where nothing grows, because that circle is just that. Nothing ever grows in the circle, not so much as a common weed. Instead, the barren circle consists solely of dried brown dirt, with cracks forming small crevices about.

Now, it may sound like just the dry patch of dirt, but there was something more than, that to the land. The land where nothing grows had an ominous and tantalizing presence about it that raises the hair in the back of your neck. It feels almost as if it somehow stares at you, gloating about its impenetrability or daring you to explore your curiosity. Old wooden fences stood around the land where nothing grows, rotting away, but still holding strands of rusty barbed wire that encircled the land. My granddad had built the fence some decades ago, to keep the animals out, and more importantly, to make sure we could still see where the circle was when crops died off and the ground became covered in soft white snow.

We were forbidden to go anywhere near that rickety old fence. Even Parr only got close when it was absolutely necessary. When I was young, I didn't question why we weren't allowed to go near the land. As I grew older, however, I found myself questioning why nothing grew in that circle. I still remember the day I gave in and approached the land where nothing grows. I was 12 years old and had taken on a lot more responsibility for the farm chores than I had in previous years. I could feel the pit somewhere in my stomach as I approached, but I swallowed my fear to satisfy the increasing nag in my mind to understand the circle.

I needed to know answers to questions I couldn't quite formulate and something told me that the land where nothing grows could tell me those answers. As I approached, everything else around me seemed to fade. The sound of the breeze fidgeting with the wheat was no longer audible, and complete silence fell around me. It was just me and the circle. Everything else faded into a grey blur in my peripheral. I reached out and touched the fence post.

My eyes fixated on the centre of the circle, where the whispers seemed to come from. I didn't hear the whispers, but I could somehow feel the whispers in my mind. Come to me, boy, come to me and understand. Allow me to show you, young boy, as I reached out to put my hand on the other side of the barth wire,

I was suddenly thrown back into the wheat by a strength that I had not expected. That force pulled me backward by my collar, dragging me through the wheat and soil for several seconds, until I was released. As I scrambled to get my boots under me, I looked up to see Parr standing over me. I braced at his stature,

expecting a spanking at the very least. Instead, he crouched down in front of me, putting a shaky finger on my face. Look at me, son, he said in his deep, gritty voice. I looked up at him, looked him right in the eye, ready to own up to my disobedience, only the look.

and past eyes, wasn't the look of anger that I had expected. It was much worse. What I saw in his watery brown eyes was the expression of deep-rooted fear, something I'd never seen for my father. He paused as he struggled to find words and choked back tears. His hands started shaking worse as his eyes stared into mine and guilt found its way into my soul. Never go near that circle again son You hear me You stay away from that goddamn fence He finally said

He grabbed me and pulled me into a tight hug His hand pulling me in by the back of my head The next words he whispered I'll never forget I almost lost you boy Everything dies in that god-forsaken land After that day I kept even further away from the land

When nothing grows Even as the presence of the land grew more taunting with every year I aged. It stared at me, even from a half mile away. It called to me, alluring me to visit its old rotten fence. One day, when I was 14, a severe windstorm tore through the town. We all bunkered down in fear of a tornado. I still remember listening to the creeks and groaned to the house

as it stood in defiance against the winds, and I was scared it would fall over. Nonetheless, the house stood strong, and sometime late in the night the wind subsided. I woke the next morning, still on my sofa next to my little sister, who fell asleep grasping my hand. My dad was quietly putting on his boots by the door. Come on, son, he said, we got to check the damages. I softly set my sister's hand down, and, after putting a blanket over her, I grabbed my boots and hat, following par out the door.

I went around to the back of the house where an old tree had fallen, missing the house by no more than a truck's length. As I broke the branches away from the window, which had cracked, but thankfully not shattered, I heard the moan of one of the dairy cows. It wasn't a typical moo you'd hear from a cow, but a moan of pain and desperation.

I ran out to follow the desperate cries of the cow, only to quickly realize where she was. She had wondered into the land when nothing grows. The storm must have knocked over that rickety-off fence because only half of the post remained standing. Old Diane, a three-year-old cow who had just given birth six months prior,

lay inside the circle thrashing about and moaning in agony, unable to get back on her feet. Her enclosure had broken, spooking the cows everywhere which direction, and that poor girl had walked right into the land when nothing grows. I ran to get my par. I dared not go after Diane, but I knew that par would know what to do. I ran out to the barn, where he was already at work patching a hole. As I told him what had happened,

I saw sorrow come over his face and a wrinkle creased in his brow. We hopped in the old pickup and quickly drove to the land. When we got there, Diane's condition. had grown horrifyingly worse. The flesh looked as though it was rotting off in front of our very eyes, exposing her bones and muscle. Her eyes had glazed and blackened as she still gave feeble

but excruciating moans for help. Parr wasted no time as he jumped from the truck with his hunting rifle in hand. He took one knee and quickly found his aim. A single shot rang out across the field as the bullet pierced straight through the old cow's skull

Her head hit the dirt And a painful cry stopped Complete silence fell And Diane was thankfully Out of her misery Having fallen victim To the land when nothing grows You see

Everything dies in the land When nothing grows Without saying a word My power got right back in the rusty red farm truck And we drove straight to the shed To collect new fence posts and barbed wire That fence wasn't about to rebuild itself after all.

By the time we arrived back to the land, Diane's body was gone, completely vanished. Is that what happens when something enters the circle? I asked Parr. I've only seen it happen a few times myself, Parr said with a stone face as he lit a cigarette. It's different every time, but it's always painful. The only thing that's sure is that everything dies in the land when nothing grows. I grabbed one of the wooden handled shovels, ready to start digging holes for the new posts, but Parr grabbed the shovel from my hands before I could take a step. Get the hell out of it, son, this is my job, Parr said, with his cigarette hanging from the

corner of his lips. I objected, but one stern luck shook me right up, and I set off to make sure the rest of the cows were gathered. I watched him from a wall. ways away though, as he built a new fence several feet back from the old one. Every move looked painful. I could see as he struggled against some unknown force to keep focus on the job, profusely wiping sweat from his brow until a newer, stronger fence encircle the land when nothing grows. Something changed in my path that day. Something I can't quite explain.

From that day on, his face seems more wrinkled, his shoulders slightly hunched and his eyes became distant. Every step he took looked heavier and he smiled less. The next four years were not kind to past mental state. He started forgetting things, not eating as much, and smoking a hell of a lot more cigarettes. He'd go to milk the cows, even though he'd done it just hours before. One day he even asked us where the hell one other dogs come from, even though we had that dog since it was a pop. I catch him completely so out and staring out in the distance, out toward the land when nothing grows. You could talk to him, and it was like he never heard it.

We begged and pleaded for him to take a step back from the farm duties and get more daily rest. But the stubborn old man refused to allow us to take any of his responsibilities from him. He insisted that he was just fine, even though we all knew he wasn't. When I was 18, par disappeared. We found that old truck near the wheat field with a door open and the engine running, but he was nowhere to be found. We searched all day, worried that it had an accident or medical emergency,

but the search was for nothing. Finally, just as the sunset casts brilliant orange across the fields, illuminating the golden wheat, I noticed there's boot prints walking away from the truck. Those prints led straight to the land When Nothing grows Everything dies in the land where nothing grows Even though there was no body to bury

We held a service room at the cemetery Mixed the small white church I'll never forget when my uncle My dad's younger brother grabbed me by the arm He had those same deep brown eyes than my dad had You're the man of the house now son you understand? He told me in a tone

that was both stern and gentle. But you're going to be right now, you hear me? Your old man taught you right. You'll know what to do, son. Eleven years later, I still managed the more family farm. I proudly kept it up just as well as parted.

My sister got the hell out of dodge the day she turned 18 and headed to the city. Hell, I can't blame her for leaving this aging town. I'd be lying if I said it hadn't crossed my mind a time or two, but somebody had to keep the farm going. As Pa always said, money don't grow on trees. It grows on the wheat fields, but only if you keep growing it. The order I got, though, the more the land where nothing grows watched me.

I still heard it oftentimes, whispering to me about my father. It's as if the circle had grown stronger, more lucrative, more manipulative. One morning, as I was walking by, something caught my attention, something laying in the land when nothing grows. As I cautiously approached, I could see what it was. An old white cowboy hat sat on the ground just a foot inside the circle. I felt my stomach turn and my heart skip a beat just a pound back seconds later. I'd know that battered and stained hat anywhere. It was Parr's hat that he refuted.

Fused to replace, always said that the hat was part of him. I trembled to see his old hat out there in the land where nothing grows. I knew I shouldn't, but I had to go get that hat. As I ducked between the barbed wire, I could hear Parr's voice in those quiet whispers. Come on over here, give you old men a hand, eh? I got to the edge of the circle, a silence fell, and my peripherals blurred. You make me proud, son. Pa, that you? I asked.

I know it's irrational, but at that moment I thought that retrieving that old hat would somehow bring my pa back to me. I reached out, and the second I touched that hat, darkness encompassed everything around me. Shadows danced in the circle as agonising screams pierced my ears, and incredible pain surged through every inch of my insides as if my heart was being ripped from my chest. That's when I heard him. Parr, his muffled yells, reached me through the relentless screams

penetrating my ears. Get the hell out of here, son. Run, boy. I came to my senses, and with every ounce of strength I could muster, I yanked on that hat and ripped myself free from the powerful clutch of the circle. The screams stopped, and the daylight

returned. I did exactly what Paa said, and ran away from that godforsaken circle. I didn't stop until I reached the house when I finally collapsed into Pars-old recliner still clutching that battered hat. After all these years, I finally lost control over my emotions

and let 11 years worth of tears pour out. After what seemed like hours, I finally pulled myself together and headed up the stairs to take a shower. My body ached, my back felt stiff and sore, and my knees popped with a twinge of pain with every step. It wasn't until I looked in the mirror, but I realized the truth. At first, I was shocked to see Parr staring back at me from the mirror,

but I realized seconds later that I wasn't looking at Parr. I was looking at myself. That greying hair atop that wrinkly face in the mirror was mine, as were the darkening bags underneath my eyes. I looked old and haggard. I don't know how long my hand was inside that circle, nor what exactly it did to me. But I must have aged 20 years in those seconds inside the land when nothing grows. I'm still doing what I can on the farm, but I can feel my mind slipping the same way Paz did.

I find myself zoning out into nothingness. My thoughts stuck in the land where nothing grows. By the time I come to my senses, my coffee has gone cold. The land where nothing grows whispers to me, promising me peace, promising rest and relief from my painful body and slipping mind. Most importantly, it promises that I can see par again. Now, I know that the whispers are lies, but every day they get just a little louder and a little more persistent. And I often find myself confused and believing the whispers, even whispering back. When I'm gone, I'm not sure what will come of this land.

But if you ever find yourself on the edge of a circle of land when nothing grows, you'd best run and never look back. You see, everything dies in the land when nothing grows. Many people are disturbed when they see roadkill, but I get a little bit excited. I'm not some sick freak that gets off and dead. things. I just run a bone jewelry yetsy shop. I saw some bones ethically.

I don't have the guts that hurt living beings. So, I usually find them in forests or on the side of the road. You have to treat bones carefully. They once were alive, and I think they still hold their essence. My work honors the creatures. I hold small funerals for each animal I come across.

I light some candles and incense, play some soft music, and say a small prayer. I'm not religious, but it seems like a respectful thing to do. Ribs make lovely pendants, as do vertebrae of smaller animals like badgers of rabbits. With more significant pieces like jaws, I like to create tiny holes to hang crystals held by wire, and, depending on the size, they can become wall decorations or necklaces. My most significant find has been an entire and intact rabbit school, which are found alongside some damaged and cracked spine and rib bones.

I like to decorate them with special paints and crystals, and sometimes I'll keep them plain by request. I have regulars who will ask me to keep certain bones of them in advance. For example, a user, Fioruan has been requesting a deer school for around five months now. Unfortunately, Formby is known more of our red squirrels and Natajak toads. There are only a few sites within the same. in the UK when Natajak Toad's breed, a unique sales point. Whenever I come across one, my jewelly sells almost instantly.

If you've never seen what a Toad's skull looks like. Google it. They're adorable. About six days ago, I went on my bi-weekly walk around local forests. Formby is wholly covered in forests and woods, so I cycle between the ones I visit. Naturally, the longer I leave visiting, the more bones I feel. find, but I like to collect them as fresh as possible to treat them. As for the roadkill, friends and family members messaged me to alert of any locations,

we had just a big help. I had about given up on a decent find when I spotted something between the brushes. I wasn't sure if it was litter or a bleached branch, but I found a complete deer head when I pushed back the branches. It was strange though. Not only was it completely. intact. It wasn't a roed deer skull. It wasn't like any deer school I had seen. Its head was a strange shape and was much sharper near the mouth and nose, and the antlers looked mostly moose-like,

while roe deer's had thin, branch-like antlers that protrude from the back of their head, rather than the side. I took it. Of course I took it. The day I refused such a beauty is the day I check myself into a retirement home. I couldn't believe my find. I didn't bother looking for more bones. I rushed straight home. I took a few pictures of the bristine skull and did a Google reverse image search

and each matching picture led to a moose. Nothing about this skull seems similar to the fallow deer which reside in the UK too. None of its features matched any of the six species of deer which belong here. It wasn't real. It was like somebody's foe's skull decoration. After cleaning it by soaking and then brushing it with a toothbrush and washing up liquid,

I shamefully did the tongue test. If you don't know, bones stick to your tongue. This has saved me a lot of time in the past. Where did you come from? I found myself asking it, as if it would be able to move its jaw without muscle and share with me its origins. So, I brought it up with some monies. like friends who enjoyed taxidermy until I got an answer from my Canadian friend, Ashley. Ashley confirmed it was a moose, which technically is a species of deer.

So there was one question answered, but I was still left wondering how he got here. I messaged via Rouhan alongside a picture of the moose skull. Not many people consider moose and deer to be the same thing. If he didn't want the head, I was free to decorate it as I wished. Fioroan met me with negative energy. He told me to place it back as it wasn't like any deer he had seen. I reminded Fioroan he lived in Ireland and our species differed, but he seemed adamant that the skull was trouble.

I pressed him for answers, unsure if he was just freaking out because he wanted a more traditional white-tailed deer skull. But he blocked me. I didn't dare ruin the beauty of this moose head. no paint would justify it but I found a beauty in wrapping wire and crystals between the antlers part of me wanted to keep it but I figured that I would place a listing for it

and if I were really against selling it I would refuse it if anyone wanted to pay the £475 price tag for it I gained multiple messages about the moose head so many people curious how I came across it in the UK most convinced it was fake Despite the beauty of it, I struggled to find somebody with an actual interest in it. A day after my find, a new account named 53.561-852, minus 3.086349, message me. I almost ignored it, as the preview of the message seemed like a template for a scam.

However, in the end, I read through the text, and the user kindly requested that I return a skull where a found it, or faced the consequences, which sounded very cliche and cringed to me. The user went into detail about protecting the forest and I may have skipped over that part because of how ridiculous it was. That night I went to sleep. I had trouble at first and it felt like I was just lying down for a really long time. But just as I was drifting off, the loud smash of glass caused my eyes to snap open. In the darkness of my room, illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights through the gap of my curtains, I saw a strange figure.

The figure wasn't human. Whatever it was, it seemed well-nourished and sickly. The figure moved around my room as if looking for something, and when it turned to the side, I saw that it had four legs rather than two. I couldn't move. not that I wanted to anyway I tried to search for a way to distinguish the being which occupied the space in front of me

and when I looked for ahead I found none I accidentally let out a small gasp the front of the being turned towards me and I immediately close my eyes when I opened them again inklings of daylight leaked into my room with no sign of the animal

which visited last night on my floor was a smash glass bowl of miscellaneous bones. The bowl usually sat far from the edge of my dressing table, but had found its way to the floor. I wondered whether what I saw was real, or maybe we had a small earthquake. That day, I had extreme luck with finding bones.

I found freshly dead red squirrel, so I packed it away to decompose later. I'd also found what I thought to be a fox jaw. It was something strange about the atmosphere, though. The air had a strange feeling, one similar to just before it rains. The humidity was almost suffocating, despite the four degrees Celsius weather. I still felt hard, as if there was something else to add to the peculiar feeling. I was sure I wasn't being watched. I would have heard footfall if I were. These forests are full of debris in the floor. You couldn't sneak up to somebody

no matter how much you tried. I found the body of another squirrel. This time, its bones were somehow ground to dust by somebody, except for its head. Just as I bent down to examine the head, I noticed a white figure to the left of me. I thought nothing of it, but it disappeared when I turned my head. This anomaly happened multiple times and the majority of the bones I found were destroyed too. When I took the squirrel home, I did my usual process with dead animals, but blood came oozing out the white dust when I carefully cut open the hide. I thought it was infected, but I noticed it was the bones of the quick examination.

What the hell? I mumbled under my confused breath. Had everything just been trampled on? I was sure the squirrel had bones when I collected it as it didn't flop around when I picked it up. I did a small ritual for the squirrel and then disposed of its body. I moved on to finish some of the footbone earrings, but those were ground to dust too. Every bit of my bone collection had turned to dust, except the still decorated moose skull. I received another message from that user, but this time it was a short note telling me, there's not much time.

I ripped the wiring and crystals off the skull in a rage and threw them across the room. I intended and returned their skull the next day, as it was nearly nightfall, and the forest I found it in was far. That night, I fell asleep to a Netflix documentary. When I opened my eyes, I was in a dark forest. Despite the lack of light, I saw clearly. I tried to lift myself off the ground and found myself peering upon two fluffy paws. I was a rabbit. I had complete control of my head, but...

the rest of my body refused to listen to my mind. It felt like I was glued into place. I watched as a large, bony creature crept around the area in front of me. Its movement's slow and graceful. I recognized the animal from the head. It was a moose. But instead, of its normal fur, it was skeletal.

Soon I heard scuffling from the side of me. In the corner of my eyes, I saw a fox. crouched, ready to pounce. The moose watched on with its hollow eyes as I waited for my demise. I felt like I had sat for a sentry as the fox read it itself. Just before I could close my eyes, the fiend hot on top and took its sharp teeth into my back. It burnt and hurt like no pain I'd ever felt. The vixen shook my figure around aggressively as the moose watched on, knowingly.

When I woke up, I was sweaty and frightened. I was so traumatized by the dream I had to turn on my light. There was no way I could go back to sleep. It was 4.30 a.m. not long until daylight. I tried to shower to soothe myself, but as soon as the water hit my back and record from the pain. Finally, I was able to use two mirrors to be able to get a good look on my back. Not only were the bike marks over the two sides of my back,

but it was painted with multiple fresh scratch marks. too delicate to have been done by human nails. I didn't bother finishing my shower. I rushed into a set of clothes, soaking the fabric with water and blood and gathered the skull. Due to my speed, it took me less time than usual to get to the forest. I threw my bike down at the entrance. I had difficulty finding the area due to the dim daylight that broke through the sky and tree line.

I found myself stumbling over rocks and branches which littered the forest floor. I heard trampling behind me, the sound I can only describe as hooves on soft dirt. I didn't have to look back to know what was following me. I picked up my speed and dodged upcoming trees. I used my free hand to push myself off to create more momentum and increase the distance between us. I could feel the being right behind me and heard the wind fly the gaps in the bones. Its front hooves threatened to trample me. I got to the same bush and threw myself.

into it and I used my body to protect the skull and quickly placed it ignoring the pain which pulsed throughout my body. The forest was silent. Not even the coos of birds dared to echo in this space. But I knew it was safe. Now I know not to mess with things that don't belong. The people, some of them aren't real. I looked across the table at Kent, trying to keep my own face neutral as I studied his.

He looked bad, exhausted, but also kind of cracked out like he used to get that last year of college, but a hundred times worse. Back then, the worst he would do is get hyper, and maybe a little reckless. Now, he'd disappear for two weeks and came back looking like a hobo junkie, all restless eyes and a nervous twitch on his upper lip. He met my gaze, his mouth shifting briefly like he smelled something bad. I wasn't sure how to respond to his crazy talk, but it was clear I needed to say something. So I decided to go with the obvious.

What the hell are you talking about, man? He gave me a ghastly grin and then nodded as he absently swirled a fry through some ketchup. Kent looked like he hadn't eaten much since he went missing, but he was still only picking at his food. Maybe he was just dehydrated though. He'd gone through three glasses of water since we'd come to the restaurant just a few minutes earlier. I started noticing it last month, yeah. One day I was on the bus I always take to and from work. I usually like the aisle seats, but that day it was pretty full,

so I got stuck in the window seat next to this big fat guy that smell like filly cheese steak, and not in a good way. So I just leaned close to the glass and try to keep focus. on looking at the window, just staring really. So it took a few minutes for me to first see it, or at least realize I was seeing it. I frowned at him. Seeing what?

Kent shook his head slowly. I kept seeing the same dude. Like, we were going up 3rd Street, and the bus stopped at an intersection, and I saw this guy drinking a cup of coffee or whatever. He was draining the cup and then throwing it in the trash can next to him. I don't know why I focused on him in the first place. Maybe it was him leaning back to get the last of the coffee, like he was really thirsty. I mean, he didn't look special.

He was dressed in a grey suit and had an overcoat on. But there's a ton of corporate stuff on the street, so you see executive types all the time. Anyway, we left him behind when the light turned green, and I just kept staring at the window. A few minutes went by. The bus made it like five blocks and was coming up on the turn onto Brick Street. Suddenly, something caught my eye. It was that same dude with the coffee,

except this time he was sitting down at one of those outdoor cafes. We didn't stop this time, but the bus was going really slow, so I got like a good ten seconds to see him. And once I noticed him, I couldn't take my eyes off of him. When he paused long enough for me to interject, I took advantage of it.

Dude, that's not a big deal. There are tons of people that look alike, especially when they're dressed up and you're seeing them from a distance. That's all it was, a coincidence. Kent was already shaking his head. No, I looked at him closely and my eyes are good. It wasn't someone that looked like him.

It was the same guy. I shrugged. Maybe he just caught up with you and sat down at the cafe then. You said you were moving slow. not that slow and not slow during the whole five blocks just some of the time he would have had to run in a suit and overcoat faster than the city bus for five blocks and managed to get sat down before we could pass rubbing his face he went on still i thought the same thing at first looking for a logical conclusion right he led out a breath as he met my eyes again the thing was this guy had food and a drink he'd clearly be able to be been eating for a few minutes, likely since before I'd passed the first guy. Well, then it had to be different people, right?

He shook his head. I don't think so, or at least not in the way you mean. I gave a smile I didn't feel. This was looking more and more like Kent, either had new mental issues or had gotten into some bad drugs. Either way, I didn't know how much longer I was going to be comfortable with keeping my promise. He'd made me swear to not tell anyone where he was after he layed me outside my office, and at the time I'd just been happy to see him and have a chance to make sure he was okay. But he wasn't okay, not if he believed this stuff,

and why would he tell it to me if he didn't? Okay, so, what do you mean by that? You're being very cryptic, leaning forward. His voice trembled a little when he spoke next. Once you see it, you can't stop seeing it. you can't stop seeing it it's like noticing cars that are like yours after you first get it

Kent swallowed and lowered his head to his hands I saw the same guy a third time as I got off of my stop now I knew something was going on this was like a good five miles from the cafe I ran home and locked the door

convinced that this guy or him and his twins were after me I didn't understand any of it but it terrified me It took two days of peeping at the window Before I'd even go outside again When I did The ghost seemed clear

No sign of the guy anywhere I heard a bitter laugh from behind Kent's hands But then I noticed the woman I saw her walking into work that morning Only noticed her because she was kind of hot for an older lady Then when I went to lunch I saw her again Maybe she worked nearby or something

Again no big deal right? Except, I walked over to the taco place and saw her standing outside looking at a phone. There was no way she could have been to me there. It was a straight shot, and except for that bank building being in the way, I could have literally looked back and seen where I saw her two minutes earlier. Looking up, Kent waved over the waitress and asked for more water before turning back to me. I went on in the restaurant, asked for a table where I could see out the front window. The woman was out there a couple more minutes, and then she got in a taxi and left without a backwards glance my way. I... I tried to let it go. Just eat lunch and not dwell on it, because I know how I am when I get fixated on something.

By the time I headed back to work, I was still thinking about it, but I wasn't so freaked out anymore. I nodded. That's good. You do better when you can redirect that photo. How are you doing with you medic? Kent slammed the hand down between us, making his plate jump slightly. No, you're not listening. Just listen and quit trying to... To talk me down from whatever roof you think I'm on, okay? Frowning, I nodded, and after a moment, he continued.

I left work late that afternoon, and there was no sign of the woman outside this time. I'd miss my usual boss, but after a few minutes, I grabbed one that would take me fairly close to my regular staff. I couldn't wait to be home. I was less freaked out than I'd been at lunch, but I could still feel myself close at the edge of... Something. Whatever it was, I just wanted to back away slowly and get back to normal.

But then, I saw the man again. Again, he was draining his coffee cup or whatever, identically to how he'd done it before when I'd seen him. Except he was down the street a little bit. So, when he threw his cup away, It landed at the edge of the sidewalk Instead of going into a trash can You need to hear

And understand what I'm saying He was doing the exact same things As the first time But his location was Off or whatever He tried to throw it away like before But the trash can wasn't there It was still down the street

Where I'd seen it before But he He didn't seem to know the difference It's like a video game, right? You got these non-player character that are moving around, mimicking real people living real lives in this game world. But they aren't real. They aren't really thinking or living at all.

It's all just program routines they do based on certain triggers. And if the world glitches or their AI gets messed up, they start doing things that are... Oh, after I saw the guy again, I knew I had to do something. Either I'd stumbled onto something huge, or I really was crazy. and not knowing which was true was worse than any fear I had from the strange stuff I'd seen. So I got off at the next bus stop and back traced until I found the guy again. He was just walking down the street from where I'd seen him throw down the cup, walking along like he had nowhere particular to be.

So, I followed him. What the, you followed someone? I lowered my voice as I leaned forward slightly. You, you haven't hurt anyone, have you? You raised his eyebrows. No, you're not listening. You need to... I cut him off.

What I need to do is go pee. When I get back, let's head to my car and keep talking about all of this. Okay? Kent just smiled and nodded. Looking away, I slid out of the booth and headed in the direction of the restroom sign. I did need to pee, but I also just needed a break to catch my breath and think through my options. I could go ahead and call someone. Probably Kent's mom, as she was the most freaked out by him dropping off the map recently.

I could try to shut down his crazy nonsense and make him understand that he was sick and needed help. But that ran the risk of him just leaving again. No, maybe I was better off just hearing him out. I might understand more if I did. And you might be more willing to listen to my opinion if I listen to the whole bizarre... My phone buzzed in my pants and I let out a small yelp. Damn, I was jumpy. I guess his story was getting to me more than I realized.

Digging my phone out, I glanced at the name of the screen. Kent. What's up? I'll be out in a minute. Alan? I found my face drawn into a frown as I leaned against the bathroom wall. Yeah? His tone was weird, and he sounded different somehow. Though I couldn't quite place it.

Did you just tell me? you'd be out in a minute. Um, yeah, I just need to take a quick pee. I told you that. Alan, where are you? The bathroom, jackass? Think I went to be in the kitchen? His voice was louder and more agitated now.

No, no, where are you? What place are you at? I felt the skin begin to prick on my arms. At the diner near my office? Roger's diner. I just left you like literally a minute ago, man. look, are you actually confused or are you just... You need to get out of there, right now.

The fear in Kent's voice killed any idea that he was playing a joke. Okay. Are you waiting out front or what? Alan, I'm not there. I'm not even in the city right now. Whoever, or whatever is there with you. It's not me. Dude, this isn't funny.

I'm going to come out and we're going to have a serious talk about what needs to happen next, okay? I could already hear him saying something else, but I ended the call and left the bathroom. The table we've been sitting at was empty now, and I didn't see any sign of Kent through the windows lining the wall. Damn, I hope I hadn't lost them again. Grabbing the ticket, I carried it up to the register where a young woman took it and began hitting numbers. I kept looking around for some sign of Kent while she rang me up, and I was so distracted, it took me a moment to register. she was even talking to me.

Sorry, what was that? The girl blushed slightly and giggled. I said, so was it a staring contest or true love? Blinking, I frowned at her. I don't understand. She grinned as she gestured back to the table where we'd been sitting. Me and the cook have a bet while you're doing that for so long. He says you're just in young love.

Me, I think it was a staring contest. I blushed deep in slightly, told him, I think you like girls instead. I stared at her blankly. I don't know what you're talking about. Who's her turn to frown? Not making fun or anything. Just, well, we both saw how y'all was sitting there, quiet, just staring at each other for the longest time, not saying a word. I felt my heart begin to hammer in my chest, even as my throat seemed to constrict down to a hole the size of a pin.

No, no, we didn't. She raised an eyebrow. Yeah, you did. Aside from ordering food and your friend asking for more drinks every few minutes, neither have you all talked for the last half hour, just looked at each other. The girl handed me my change with an apologetic look. I wasn't trying to be nosy or nothing. It was just weird as all.

I stuffed the money into my pocket, wouldn'tly, as I turned to go. But then I stopped and looked back at her. Did you see where the other guy went? In a deeper part of my mind, I realized I was now asking so I could avoid him rather than find him. But I ignore that detail for the moment. For now, the fear growing fat in my belly

was more pressing than anything else. She shrugged. Sorry, I saw you get up and head to the back, but when I looked over to the table the next time, he was gone. nodding, I headed outside. looking carefully in every direction before heading to my car. There was no sign of Kent anywhere, and I told myself I was being silly,

but I still couldn't resist jog into my car and locking the door as soon as I got in. There was a flash of panic as I realised I hadn't checked the back seat, but when I looked back, it was empty. The relief I felt was palpable, and it made what I was about to do even harder. pulling out my phone. I called Kent back. The first couple of tries, I didn't get anything other than his full mailbox.

It wasn't until I was on the freeway that I heard his panicked voice on the far end of the line. Alan, are you okay? The damn service here goes in and out. I've been trying to get through since we got cut off. I'm fine. But why did you leave? What's all this about?

A brief pause, and then in a calmer voice, Kent replied. Alan, I know this sounds like a joke or something to you. Or you think I'm crazy. Crazier. But I wasn't with you today. I haven't seen you in weeks.

I felt anger bubbling in my chest, fed by my growing fear and uncertainty. Nonsense. We just ate lunch and talked. Then I go to the bathroom. You call me and then you ghost? Why are you doing this? What did I say?

What? When we talked just now, What do we talk about? Look man, this is getting really... Please, just humor me. I'm not missing with you. Sighing, I glanced up at where I was headed.

I started going home without even thinking about it. I considered turning around and heading back to work. But I didn't see the point. I needed a deal with this Kent thing now, if possible, both for his safety and my peace of mind. Okay, you were telling me about seeing a man, the same man, over and over, but like in ways that it was impossible for it to be the same man.

Then the same thing happened with the woman. Then again with the first guy, but now... Now, he was missing the trash can. I grimaced. Oh, so you are just messing with me. Great. No, Alan, no. I know that stuff you just said, because it happened to me.

All of it. But I haven't told anyone about it. And I swear to God, I didn't talk to you today. except on the phone a few minutes ago and now. Ignoring the clenching pain in my stomach, I got over in the exit lane. Okay, fine. So, what's going on?

None of this makes any sense, and your family's freaking out, and you haven't told my family about this, have you? It just happened. Plus, you asked me not to. Alan, that wasn't... Yeah, your NPC or whatever. But you're going to meet me and talk, okay?

And by the end of it, You're either going to convince me, or I'm going to convince you. Either that, or I'll hang up and call your mom and sister right now. No, no, I don't want them involved in whatever this is. I'll meet you. Tomorrow afternoon at your house? Yeah, why not? Another pause, and then.

Because I'm two hours away, and I need time to check things out here and there before I meet. I've taken to being real careful wherever I go out. It's not just me noticing them. They've noticed me, too. See you then, buddy. I went to say more, but he'd already hung up. I turned into my driveway and parked, sitting in my car for a moment as I went back over my lunch at the diner.

That had been Kent, right? It had to be. And that girl, she was just lying for some reason? We talked plenty the whole time we were there, didn't we? I got out and headed for the door, the chill in my stomach working his way up my spine. Kent had issues, sure, but he'd never been a joker or a liar, and he never been delusional either, and he'd sounded really upset on the phone, though if he was crazy, maybe he really would be upset. Feeling a sense of something coming up behind me, a world around, pulse suddenly pounding.

There was nothing there, of course. Just more of me being scared and nothing, jumping at shadows cast by my poor, sick friend. Turning back, I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. Everything it told you, it's just like I'd have said it. That's what happened.

Kent was keyed up now, his hands played wide as he punctuated his words. This was more like the Kent I knew. I strung, but not strung out, looking tired, but not like a homeless drug addict. And yet, he was still swearing he hadn't met me the day before. Deciding to just go with it for the time being, I asked him if he'd really followed the coffee man. His eyes went wide. Oh yeah, I followed him.

He went into an old office over on Harris Street and didn't come back out for like three hours, and in that time, another two of him had gone in two. I sucked in a breath. So you're saying you literally saw three of the same person going to the same building? And you were watching it the whole time? Kent nodded as he drank some from a glass of water I'd offered when he arrived. Yep and yep. Maybe they were leaving out the back and circling around?

He smirked. A good theory, except that the other two came just a few minutes after the first one and arrived at almost the exact same time. I saw one go in less than a minute after the other. When he saw, I had no further argument for the time being. He went on. That was just a start. I gave up on work or seeing other people.

I needed to figure this out, one way or the other, as the way I looked at it, whether it was real or I was crazy. I didn't want to risk putting someone else in harm's way. So I spent the next few days driving around, looking for more of, whatever they are. At the diner, you call them NPCs, like in a game. I buffered a breath, and I corrected myself. Or not you, but the other you, the thing that looks like you.

When he still looked irritated, I tried changing the subject. Do you think there's more than one of you? Kent shrugged. Maybe, maybe not by now. He leaned forward, and his face grew paler as he went on. I've been in that building now, just a couple of days after I saw the men go in. I almost got caught a couple of times, but they have trouble noticing things while they're still apart. I raised an eyebrow.

Apart? Yeah, they don't stay multiples forever, I don't think. Or at least some of them don't. Learn about the world some, or whatever it is they're doing, and then they come together, melt together into one version. He wiped out his mouth with a shaking hand. I saw it happen once. It was so awful. It didn't even make sense looking at it.

But when it was done, that one version acted more normal. I followed it for a day after that, and it didn't have any weird lapses the way the other ones do. Kent gave me a weak smile. I would have continued following it for longer. But that night, as it was leaving the supermarket, it turned and stared at me from across the parking lot. Just stared at me.

and smiled Ken's lips thin to a line That's when I left town I thought I was a bit safer after that But then on Saturday One of them came in the motel room Where I was staying I didn't wake up at first

Just when it climbed under the bed with me I felt it Or I heard the spring squeak He shook his head Either way I'd taken to sleeping with a knife I stabbed it twice and rolled off the bed It came after me, though he was moving slow. I got to my feet and kept stabbing it until it stopped moving at all.

It wasn't until I was done that I realized there was no blood. It was just black leaves. Most of them dried up and crumbling, though a few were softer and wet with some yellow snot or whatever. I turned on the light to get a better look, but by the time I turned back, it was all drying up and puffing away. He rubbed his eyes. like it had never been there at all.

I stood up and went to the kitchen to refill our glasses, trying to sound casual. So, aren't you sure that's what happened? I gave a soft laugh. No chance he killed a real guy and just think it was one of these things, right? I could hear the tension in his voice when he answered. I honestly wish I had. I know that sounds terrible, and I wouldn't want to hurt anybody. But at least it would mean I was crazy and none of this is real.

But it is. You seeing my MPC proves it. It has my memories, my personality. Either they're getting better at mimicking real people or... I don't know. I don't know if those other NPCs are real people they copied, the ones they made up. I handed him back his class and drank for my own.

But... Look, I'm not trying to say you're crazy or wrong. But why would they go about it like this? If this is... What? aliens, monsters, devil robots, whatever it is, why would they let multiple versions of the same person out at once, particularly when they all act messed up and weird?

Kent nodded. I wondered that too, at least at first, but watching them for a few days. I think I figured it out. They do it, because they can. People don't notice. They don't see the doubles or the odd behaviour. I don't know how or why no one sees it, or why I do.

Maybe it's because of my bad wiring, or because they're trying to copy me too. He gave a hollow laugh. I do feel like I'm weirdly connected to them now. Like yesterday, the only reason I called you when you were at the diner was because I had this sudden, really strong feeling of having just talked to you. I tried to brush it off, but when I couldn't, I was worried it meant you in danger. He's had his glass down. Turns out, I was right. Why?

Why are they doing this? He shrugged. I don't know. To replace us, infiltrates us? Who knows? Kent stared off for a moment. His expression bleak. I can tell you that I've never seen them talk to each other.

No visible signs of communication at all. Shaking his head, he looked up at me. Maybe they're controlled by something else. Puppets. Hell, maybe they don't even know they aren't the real thing. I nodded. Yeah, it's hard to say for sure, but I think I can show you something that will shed a little light on it.

Kent raised his eyebrows. Really? What is it? I gave him a smile I didn't feel. It's not something I can easy explain. Better that you see it. It's in the guest bedroom. I started to head down the hall, but stopped when I saw how slow he was to follow.

Come on, let me show it you. It's really something. His face unreadable, he nodded and rose, walking behind me until we reached the closed door. I gestured for him to open it, but he hesitated, looking at me. You, go ahead. Sniffling softly, I reached forward and turn the knobby. pushing the door open wide. I could hear a sharp intake of breath behind me

as Kent saw what was in the room. Lines and ribbons of dried, torn meat that had once been a man. Blood turned to powder and effaced that, but for the shrunken sockets and the peeled back lips would have looked just like mine. I felt the knife going to my side,

but I was ready for it. Grabbing Kent's wrist, I twisted hard as a few. felt a pot beneath my fingers. He cried out in pain, even as he began to punch me with his free arm. Another twist, and he sank to the ground with a squeal of pain that caused me to wince. Crouching down next to him, I grabbed his throat tightly, trying to be as gentle as the situation allowed. We know we're not them, and yet we don't know. It's like being a dream that you know is a dream, but you don't like the knowing, so you make yourself forget when you can.

I stroke the side of his head as he glared at me with a mixture of hatred and fear. He could still breathe, but just barely, and the fight was out of him now. We don't hate you, not at all. We love you very much. I felt my vision blur a bit and blinked my eyes clear. Reaching down, I pulled out the knife. When I raised my hand, a pair of withered black leaves were stuck there from the wound. But this thing that drives us, that makes us, it doesn't care about you at all.

It's very smart and selfish, and it won't stop growing. I could feel Ken's fear continuing to build. It was only making it worse. Terrorising him further and dragging out the inevitable. Sobbing a little, I squeezed tightly and felt his spine give way. A moment more of pain and horror in his eyes. And then it was at peace, cradling his body, I cried softly for some time, before I drank in what his remains had to offer. I know there's another Kent out there.

A Kent, like I'm an Alan. I understand the logic that, despite the strangest of it all, in time, I'll come to fill Alan's life completely, and that part of that will be by accepting this other version of my best friend, Kent. And all will continue until all is done. I'll burn these dried-up husks of old Alan and Kent after nightfall. I won't take long, and then there'll be no proof of these others, these originals. Perhaps then it'll be even easier to stay in the dream that I am this man, pretending that I was given this life rather than having taken it from another.

Or maybe I can hold onto some of this pain, this guilt. Maybe I don't have to fade into a dreaming phantom, only exist and deserve the thing I come from. If I can hold onto this desperately fading sense of loss and love and shame, maybe I can become something more. Maybe, through such joy and suffering, I can become real. At first, I wrote this entire post as a way

to get people to uninstall and remove the game, Hatchman Cove, from their Steam accounts. but I soon realise pretty much no one has ever played it but if you buy any chance happen to own a copy please I urge you remove it

uninstall and forget it don't look back don't touch it ever again I'll tell you why a friend of mine bought a three pack of Hatchman Cove back in 2009 it was a multiplayer game where three people are paired up against a

single strong player on the opposite team, kind of like an early Dead by Daylight game. This game might very well be the spiritual predecessor. The similarities between those games are pretty eerie. I'm sure at least one person on the Dead by Daylight team has a steam copy of Hatchman Cove, and that kind of worries me. See, Hatchman Cove was this game where you played in cycles, kind of like a red-like green light game. Three people play Survivors, from a ship that crashed into a cove and the fourth player gets to play as the killer. The killer

wasn't necessary some slasher with an axe. It could be a vengeful angel, a grim reaper, or several other kinds of killers. At least, that was the original plan. So, the game would alter between having bright lights all over the map going on and off.

While they were on, the killer would notice any kind of movement with a ping. When the lights were off, survivors could move any way they want, as long as they didn't draw too much attention. They get set up traps to delay the killer or sabotage the lights to get more time. The killer, on the other hand, would try to grab the survivors and drown them in a well at the center of the map.

Once a survivor was grabbed, the other survivors are given a choice to either try and intercept the killer using traps or use the time to gain an advantage. The problem was that Hatchman Cove didn't sell very well. The developers had some legal trouble with their publisher who were mad about the developers backing out of an exclusive deal with Unlive. Check it, it's on Wikipedia. There was no promotion on Steam or anywhere else as the publishers didn't want it released on another platform.

They didn't want it released at all for another six months until the game at the proper infrastructure. The dev screwed up and published it on Steam anyway and the whole thing was a mess. Still, during the months that it was active, there was a fairly regular player base. My friends and I played it pretty much every day for about a month. I made Sturgis as a survivor,

the Norwegian fisherman who could lure the killer using his fishing rod. As a killer, there were only two options at the time, the hatchman and the blameless. I preferred to play the hatchman. he was straightforward. You got a hatchet, could destroy shelters, and had a certain resistance to traps. The Blameless, she was just...

Weird. They never managed to balance her right. The Blameless was an old woman. She was slow, but she floated around the map and avoided all ground-based traps. She always had this warm smile, and a passive ability was just the weirdest. If she was far away, she would look like a random ally in your team.

Only when she got closer, she would reveal that sinister, smiling face. Hatchman was just a murderer, but the blameless was downright creepy. But the game didn't get any updates because of the legal battle. No updates, no new survivors, no killers, nothing. Instead, the game went silent. we stopped playing and a few months later the game was unceremoniously

unlisted and removed from the Steam store without as much as an apology I uninstall Hatchman Cove and didn't think about it for years. Just one of those games that rest in the back catalogue I forgot I even had it but

this is where things get weird. Last December I was gifted the new Harvest Moon game as a Christmas present and some primal part of my reptile brain clicked back in on Hatchman Cove. The friends I used to play with had moved on with her lives, but the game still had a esteemed community page. I checked the store page, and it was empty.

The game couldn't be found on Google either. The game was completely hidden. If you don't actually have it in your library, you won't find it without a direct link. That in itself is kind of weird. Most of banning games can still be Google. but Hatchman Cove still had a very, very active community. There were plenty of discussions on the forums, but they didn't make any sense.

The speech was almost garbled. I'm sure whatever they discussed made sense to them, but to an outsider, it just seemed like nonsense. A few examples. Topic. How much GW2 finished no-min? I want to finish no-min. I don't know yet. Just don't GW then. Get yourself together.

You'll never go, men. If you don't GW, just commit. The discussion forum is just a mess. That example was the most legible thing I could find, and I still have no idea what it says. So, I started checking out the community content, like videos and screenshots. The way the community played the game

was completely different from when I played. Pretty much no one played Hatchman anymore. The killer seemed limited to the blameless. Not a single screenshot of the hatchman. Just the blameless. But the weird thing was how the players interacted with the killer. Instead of hiding, they'd come running up to her. They run up to her with their microphones on, screaming at her,

screaming, begging, pleading for her to kill them. Not with funny voices or anything, no. There were people crying in chat. Video is marked as GW and various states littered the community page, each with people crying and screaming and begging to die. The volume maxed out immediately, and most of the time all voices were nothing but a crackling mess that could easily blow out your speakers.

I couldn't stop watching. I'd never seen anything like it, not even back in the days when I was still playing. That wasn't the way you play the game. No one was hiding or looking for a game. objectives, I'd see players using my old main, Sturgis, and just rushed to Blameless as soon as the match started, seeing the 3D model of the old bearded man running up to the blameless, pleading to die. That was uncomfortable. I made the mistake of posting my own question on the discussion forum. I was just too curious. You have to remember, at this point, this was still just a weird blip in my Steam library. I made my own topic and just asked what the hell happened to the game.

I got no responses in a week. Nothing. After that, things have gotten weird, real weird. It started with CSGO. One night, a teammate came on and just started screaming. No big deal at first, just another troll. But he was screaming at me specifically. screaming at me, begging me to shoot him.

It was crying. He was desperate, asking me to please team kill him. He offered to send me money, trade rare skins, whatever I wanted. He got kicked before I even knew what to say. Two games later, the same guy joins my team with a different username and clan tag. He keeps screaming, crying and begging. The teammates laugh, but I was getting uncomfortable. I stopped playing

hearing a grown man barely being able to breathe between sobs is just too much that wasn't a prank that was desperation but it didn't stop there from that point on

in several games people started joining and begging me to kill them it could be by text and steam chat by voice whatever they could Once in Four Guys, there were two people with the usernames Kill me and kill me too How? You can't even pick your own username in Four Guys

They just stood there waiting for me to push them over the edge These colourful little blob people just made my stomach crawl Because I knew that whoever controlled them was sitting there screaming and complete panic behind the screen It just kept going In Red Dead Redemption too I used to have the setting to hear and be heard by everyone enabled. But I had to stop.

Naked users kept running at me while I was camping out at Strawberry, and I turned off all audio as soon as I saw them. I was shaking as I realised the mute setting didn't work and force-closed my game. I swear, for a few seconds after the executable had closed, I could still hear them. I threw my headphones across the room, and walked away from the computer, just holding my head and quivering.

I didn't know what to do. I could barely be at my computer. I went back to the Hatchman Cove Steam forums and just started reporting people. I also reported all videos to YouTube, and it just flagged everything. I know I abused the report system, but things were getting out of hand. I was being harassed, so they took it down. Not just the forums or the videos, but everything. The entire Steam page, gone, including the community page.

I could still see the name Hatchman Cove in my library at that point, but nothing showed when I clicked it. YouTube and Steam probably didn't care much and didn't bother to do a review of my report. It was easier to just pull the plug. And for a while, that did the trick. I actually got back on CSGO. It got worse than ever. Random people started joining our Discord server, just screaming into our ears.

No matter how many times we banned them or muted them, they just kept coming back. My friends noticed that, as long as I was offline, the voices stayed away. So, my server figured I was playing a prank or something. At first they thought he was kind of funny. But the more it happened, the more they were getting frustrated, Some were getting scared and sent me private messages asking me to please as friends stop. Today, I'm permaband. I can't even log back onto Discord without getting messages from random accounts,

begging me to come online and kill them. It has gotten to the point where I've uninstalled pretty much everything. I don't even have Skype. I don't play games anymore, and I don't think I'll be browsing Reddit much longer either, since I've started getting messages here too. Not just here, but on my phone as well. Texts in the middle of the night, random calls from unknown numbers.

Last week, I found traces of handprints on my kitchen window. Not just one or two, but dozens. A neighbor told me there'd been someone shouting outside my door when I was out buying groceries the other day. I'm considering calling the police. But, I don't know what to say. I don't even know if I'm in danger. I can't get the bland face of the blameless out of my head.

I dream of her, asking me, without moving a crinkled mouth, if I wanted it all to stop. And I say yes. I go to her, dressed as old Sturgis, standing alongside the others with my fishing rod. First, I ask her to end it all, but the others speak louder, and she can't hear me. Then I ask again, trying to speak over the others. Soon I find myself screaming. We all scream louder and louder, begging, pleading, crying for attention. We all want it to stop.

And she refuses to oblige. Instead, she just smiles, holding some sort of beautiful secret behind a pixelated, dead eyes. I don't know what it is, but I want it. I'm starting to understand, but at the same time, I'm disgusted. Please, stay away from Hatchman Cove. It started small. One night, as I walked into our bedroom, I noticed Andrea kneeling on the floor. Her hands were clasped and she was muttering under her breath.

I walked over to her and tapped on the shoulder. She immediately left whatever state she was in and asked me what I needed. I laughed. I thought you swore off religion. Andrea shook her head and looked at me with a confused expression. She didn't say anything and I decided to forget about the incident. I knew she had been part of some church for another when she was young, long before I met her. she never spoke about it and I never asked

after that everything was normal at least for a while I noticed that Andrea was a little more quiet a little more reserved I didn't think anything of it since the change was gradual but over time I began to wonder if something was wrong Andrea had never been the most talkative of girls

but she wasn't usually this secretive Is she hiding something? I work long hours during the day and she worked the night shift at a local hospital so we didn't see each other much apart to me wondered if she was cheating on me that would explain the weird behaviour Eventually curiosity broke me

and I decided to investigate After I got home from work one night I hit a phone underneath the mattress and put it on silent As Andrea was preparing to leave for a shift, she searched up and down for the phone, but couldn't find it. She asked me to call the number on my phone, which I did, but she couldn't hear her ringtone. Luckily for me, Andrew decided to leave it anyway, as she didn't want to be late for work. That left me with full access to a smartphone for the next ten hours.

I unlocked it and started searching her text messages and social media DMs for any clob. as to why she was acting strangely. However, there weren't any clues on her phone. There weren't any long phone calls with other men, no frantic text messages relaying some problem to her friends. Nothing. She was scot-free. The only thing I found on a phone that was even slightly bizarre

was that she had downloaded the Bible app. Other than that, there was nothing. So, that was it, I decided. She had converted to Christianity I was too nervous or afraid to tell anyone To be honest I didn't care what she believed I was an atheist myself

But she could be whatever she wanted I decided that I would talk to her about it the next night And fell asleep However The next night came And she was not home I realised that I had left a phone of the bed the night before Still on silent mode

I looked for it, but it was gone. I pulled out my phone and checked a location using an app I downloaded. Andrea's phone was apparently located in a church not far from her house. She must have come home, found a phone right next to me and left a church at some point. I had no way of knowing how long she had been there, but I knew I would need to stay awake and confront her when she got home. She would probably be mad at me for hiding her phone, but I was frustrated with her hiding a religion.

Andrea should trust me, at least a little. Why was she being so secretive about this? I stayed up all night that night, watching a location on my phone. She never moved. I figured that she must have left a phone at the church and gone somewhere else. The next day, I kept texting her and watching a location, trying to figure out where she was.

I called her parents to no avail. Nobody Andrian knew could tell me where she was. I decided before I called the police to report her missing that I should check the church to see if she was still there. Maybe, by smoth chance, she hadn't left. I left work early and drove over to the nearby house of worship. Once I arrived, I jumped out of my car, the sign in the parking lot read,

the Holy Communion. I had seen this church before, but had never been inside. It really was beautiful, I thought, as I made my way to the chapel. Staying glass windows, lined the walls, and a massive steeple stretched toward the sky, ending in a cross about 40 feet high. I made my way toward the front door and tried it. To my surprise, it was unlocked, despite it being a Monday afternoon. I decided I'd check around and leave as soon as I could.

I honestly wanted to leave this whole thing to the police. I opened the giant door leading to the chapel. It was beautiful as well. The church was small, but it was elegantly decorated with novelties that looked extremely old. I noticed the grandfather clock in the middle that could have been a hundred years old, but the pendulum inside was still swinging. The room was arranged with several rows of pews, all facing what I assumed to be the altar,

a small stage of the pulpit centred on it. behind the pulpit a giant painting was hanging on the wall I couldn't tell what it depicted the chapel was completely empty that is except for a short brown-haired woman kneeling at the altar whispering quietly her words were fast and she seemed desperate her hair was tangled and she was sweating profusely

it was Andrea I called out her name and ran to her She looked up, looking dazed and tired. I could see that she'd been crying. What's going on? Are you all right? I pulled her up and motioned for her to come with me. She didn't answer any of my questions. She just stared off into space and walked along with me.

When we reached the car and I had ordered her into the passenger seat, she finally spoke to me. Her voice was as quiet as a whisper and her words were fast. I need to go back. Why? I asked, still frustrated that she hadn't told me about any of this. Why do you need to go back? Andrea didn't respond.

Instead, she just made a weak gesture at her hands, indicating prayer. I asked her how much more time she needed. All she did was shake her head. I told her that I'd give her an hour and that she would need to come out and speak with a doctor after her time was up. She ran back into the church. I wondered if I had been too harsh.

Maybe she had converted to some other religion and genuinely felt convicted of something. But I told myself that I was justified. After all, she shouldn't have been so secretive about all of this. She knew I was understanding. So why didn't she just explain what this was all about? I was worried about it too.

I wasn't completely sure how much time she spent in there, or if she had eaten or slept. Andrea was definitely distressed, but I had no idea why. While she was inside, I took some time to research the church itself. It was a part of a lesser-known denomination called the Communionists. In fact, from what I found, the denomination didn't seem to be part of Christianity at all. Instead, it was his own religion, though very similar. The belief system, according to the church's website, was as follows.

We believe that it is God's calling to be loving and merciful to each person that walks through our doors, just as God was to us. Our Father is merciful, saving us from certain damnation out of his grace and love, and we wish to spread his message to all the world. I also learned that the Communionists used a different Bible from the one used in traditional Christian. in churches. The only thing different about it, however, was that it had one extra book in it. I contacted a psychiatrist and told him about my wife's odd behavior. He told me to put him on the phone when she returned and I said I would call him back. An hour passed, but Andrea did not appear. I gave her a few more minutes and when she hadn't come out, I went inside. There she was, praying as diligently as ever on the altar.

I gently tried to shake her out of a trance, but she was completely unresponsive. I tried to make out what she was whispering, but she was going too fast. I tried pushing her, and she didn't respond. After yelling at her and trying everything I could to snap her out of this bizarre state she was in, I decided that I had to call the emergency services, So, I called 911 and an ambulance was sent to pick her up. She acted normally after the ambulance arrived and seemed for a little while to revert back to a normal self.

I asked her what was going on with a whole church incident and she just sighed and ignored my question. After a few hours, Andrea was released from the hospital. The doctors told me that she was fine and that she was just feeling stressed. I asked her what she was worried about repeatedly, but she just kept telling me that she was all right. I really hoped that she would stay like this. I didn't know the new Andrea. I didn't understand her new religious personality.

It wasn't the Andrea that I had come to love. For a while, everything was fine. My wife had returned to normal, it seemed. We didn't talk about the praying incident at all, and our lives went back on track. She still seemed a little on edge, but it wasn't very obvious. Our lives continued as normal, going to work, spending time together in the evenings, until eventually. Something snapped. I'm still not completely sure why it happened.

Andrea was about to leave for work when she started screaming. The shrieks were horrifying, like she was in unimaginable pain. I ran over to help, and I found her on the floor, curled up. into the fetal position, screeching, or tears rolled down her face. I tried to ask her what was wrong, but she ignored me and continued on in this state, just as I was pulling out my phone to call 911. She spoke. I must pray for mercy.

After that, she got up onto her knees and returned to the catatonic state of prayer, which she had been in a few weeks before in the church. No matter what I did, she didn't even acknowledge. me. I called the emergency services again and another ambulance was sent to take her to the hospital. This time, she did not jump back to a normal self. Doctors, nurses and psychiatrists were called in to help her, but nothing seemed to work. She didn't stop praying. They tried to pry her hands apart and move her into different positions, but it didn't work. Andrea had become a living statue. After a while, the doctors chose to pull her out of her consciousness.

They administered anesthesia to her through a mask, but it didn't work. Andrea was still conscious, praying ever diligently. They tried to give her anesthesia through an IV, but that didn't work either. No matter what happened, she remained awake, praying non-stop. Since Andrea wasn't eating or drinking, doctors had to insert a feeding tube inside her to keep her alive. I was heartbroken. The medical professionals at the hospital couldn't prescribe any illnesses to this. The scans they took showed that she was mentally fine,

though she was malnourished and dehydrated physically. No one knew what was going on. I told everybody the truth about what had happened, that this had just started without much of a cause. I said that she started screaming on the floor and now she was here. From that point on, I decided that it was my duty to research a cause. I devoted hours upon hours to reading up on the Holy Communion, learning about their beliefs and trying to decipher what this all meant.

I knew that little church had to do with this, but I wasn't sure how. This is a theory I've cobbled together after my tireless research, and I'm certain that this is the truth. In the Communionist Bible, there is an extra book, as I mentioned earlier. It took me a long time to find their Bible, as it appears they have hidden it from most of the world. In the additional book, God's wrath is explained. The book succeeds the final book of Revelation and describes the fall of civilization. It is extremely vague, but it alludes to the burning of the great cities and the slaughter of the innocent in droves.

It is said that his punitive. punishment, this valhalla of sorts, can happen at any time. At any point, whether it be in a hundred years or a few hours, God can descend upon mankind and punish it for its wicked sins. In order to prevent God from punishing us, the church must elect a vessel to negotiate with him. The vessel is required to pray for mercy until God's wrath has subsided. It is believed that eventually a day will come when he cannot be negotiated with. and humanity will end no matter what the vessel does. The way the vessel is chosen by the church is random.

They select the first person they see that is young and able to handle such pressure and call upon him to become a negotiator. The negotiator has no control over this. Instead, they have forced to see the visions. Once one is called upon the church, the visions begin. It isn't detailed in the book, but the visions allegedly show. atrocities so horrifying that one is shaken to the state of prayer that Andrea was in. Essentially, it scares you into begging God for mercy upon mankind.

The visions apparently start of small and continue to grow worse and more frequent until the vessel is forced into a catastonic state of prayer. Once God chooses to have mercy of mankind, the vessel is released. Andrea was selected to be a vessel, a negotiator with God. There are instances of this happening throughout history, though most of the time it is covered up by the church itself. Andrea saw the first vision the night I found her praying in her room. The vision started bearing her until she could no longer bear them, and she fled to the church

to beg for mercy. She must have been temporarily released from this hell when the first ambulance arrived. She must have thought she was free. But then the vision started back the night she was. began screaming, and now she is trapped here until she dies, until God chooses to finally set her free. That was my theory. I'm still not sure if it's totally correct. However, I recently receives her news from the hospital. They have finally managed to force my wife into a medically induced coma.

This means that she's no longer praying. It also means that the church no longer has a vessel with which to speak with God last night. I had a dream. A dream where I was watching

my city burn alive. I saw my wife, my parents and my friends all die hopelessly as the fire spread farther and further. I looked around, watching the fire slowly consume everything in sight, was this one of those visions?

I don't know. Maybe I'm just paranoid. But somehow, I feel the need to pray to ask God to relieve me of this pain. I certainly hope I'm not a vessel. But who knows? If I can share the burden with Andrea,

at least I've done some good.