Creepy - I'm Taking a Week Away From My Husband...

Episode Date: June 10, 2020

We needed a break...***Written by u/newtotownJAM and narrated by Michelle Kane***Check out our reward tiers at patreon.com/creepypod***You can also subscribe to us on YouTube:https://www.youtube.com/creepypod***Music by Steve Blizin***Title music by Alex Aldea***Intro/Outro Narration by Joe Stofko Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

This is the bloody disgusting podcast network. No. This is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous, chilling and disturbing creepypastas and urban legends in the world. Whether these stories truly happened or simply fabrications is for you to decide. These stories may contain. graphic depictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised.

Creepy presents. I'm taking a week away from my husband, but my hotel neighbor is really starting to freak me out. Written by Newtown Jam, and narrated by Michelle Kane. Me and my husband are, Having a rough time at the moment, our relationship is not the secure place that it usually is. It's a boat, swaying side to side, just waiting to capsize.

I'd rather not talk about why. Right now, it's still quite raw and painful. It may feel hopeless, but I really do love him. That's why I'm here. in this beautiful luxury spa hotel in the British countryside, to give us both some space and some time to miss each other. I arrived five days ago. I got my hair done the day before, freshly dyed shade of Auburn. This was different from my usual blonde locks and it made me feel like a whole new person. I needed that after all the trouble with my husband.

Sometimes it's important to be somebody else. Maybe that's why, as I checked in, I signed a name that was not my own. Laura Keller. I don't know why I chose that, but I did. My real name was Roseborn, and everyone knew me for my long, blonde hair, and devoted husband John. But for this week in this hotel, I was solo travel. Flame-haired Laura Keller, and it felt wonderful. The man on the desk was incredibly polite as I checked in.

I had been used to low-rate hotels and cheap getaways with John, but I used savings to treat myself to this week. I figured I deserved to experience it at least once in my life. I could feel eyes watching me as I paid for my stay and deliberated over how many extra spa treatments I would add to my package. As I received my room key and turned around, I was faced with the owner of the eyes that had been burning the back of my head. An incredibly handsome man, quite a bit older than me,

but that was familiar to me. John was much older, too. I had only been 18 when we wed seven years ago. The distinguished gaze and silver. but full head of hair of this handsome guest made him so attractive to me. His piercing blue eyes lighting up as he smiled and nodded at me. I blushed as I smiled back and continued down the corridor to my room. I could still feel my flushed cheeks as I entered my suite but was soon distracted by the gorgeous accommodation. There were opulent maroon, full-drop-curtain. There were opulent, maroon, full-drop-curtain,

that matched the soft furnishings and sheets on the four-poster bed that was complete with gold details. A huge flat-screen television fixed to the wall. The suite had a balcony and a bathroom complete with hot tub bath and waterfall-style shower. The view from the balcony over the acres of countryside, bordered by woods in the horizon. It was bliss. Just what I needed to forget about all the drama at home, the reason I'd left John. The amount of attention he was paying to that stupid girl?

No, I'm still not ready to talk about that. As I lay on the bed with the balcony door open enjoying the breeze, there was a knock at my door. I got up slowly, hoping John hadn't found me. I didn't tell him I was coming. I used an email address he didn't know about to book it and everything. I know it sounds paranoid, but I haven't been apart from him in so long. I just needed some space. I had no worries about him reporting me missing.

We were in such a bad place when I left. He's probably busy courting the next one now. It wasn't John. It was the handsome stranger from the hotel lobby. His smile was still in place as he looked at me with those blue eyes and asked if I would like to go to dinner with him. My thoughts of John retreated to the smallest crevice of my mind as I accepted his invitation. His name was Gilbert Thompson. It was an old man's name, but he was only 50, a whole four years younger than John.

We talked and we flirted over a three-course gourmet meal in the hotel restaurant and an expensive bottle of wine back in his room. It turned out that Gil, as he preferred to be called, was my next-door neighbor. We made love that night. I know I shouldn't have. I have always been faithful to John, and in all honesty, I've never been intimate with anyone else. John has been everything to me for such a long time now. Gill was gentle and loving and seemed to really be interested in what I had to say. John never did.

Sometimes I think he only married me to keep me. We were physical for a while before we married, and I don't think he wanted to see me move on or be free. He'd had a lot of girls come and go over the years, but he said I was always the special one. I still believe that, despite our current position. After our intimate moment together, Gil left and made the journey to the next room to sleep for the night. The gentleman that he was wanted to let me get a comfortable first night in my suite without any interruption.

I, of course, couldn't sleep. I hadn't slept for a whole week before check-in anyway. that what I had just done to my marriage haunted me, along with the thoughts of the troubles at home. No amount of velvety blankets or dim, relaxed lighting, could help me drift off. The next morning I woke up early. I intended to spend the day in the spa and headed out of my room around 7 a.m. As I opened the door, there was Gill, stood smiling at me and directly facing my. door, almost as if he had been waiting there. I felt my heart skip a beat, but not in the good way.

His smile was not the same. I don't know how to explain it, but when someone smiles, they smile with their eyes, too. Gil's eyes were vacant and expressionless. Hi, neighbor, I was just passing by. Do you want to join me for breakfast? My treat. Gil played it off like he hadn't been waiting, but his stance and position gave him away. He had been watching my door. Despite feeling unsettled by the whole exchange, I agreed to go. After all, I didn't want the only man I had ever slept with besides my husband to be just a one-night stand. A follow-up date felt almost obligatory.

At breakfast, we talked. We both enjoyed politics and current affairs. Sometimes at home, my relationship with John had been so intense that the news was my only connection to the outside world. I didn't work. John provided for us, and I rarely left the house. It got lonely, but the news anchors and politicians kept me company. We were in deep debate about the political climate in the Middle East when Gil let the first strange comments slip out. How does your husband feel about that? It seems like a simple sentence, but I had committed to my role as Laura Keller at this hotel. I hadn't worn my ring,

and I definitely hadn't mentioned my husband. He occupied my every thought, but I was certain that he had not made it into conversation with anyone since I left the house. Gil had said it with such seriousness. It hadn't been relevant to the conversation, and I was taken aback. He looked at me with that same vacant smile he had at my room door as it left his mouth. When I said I had no husband, he brushed it off as if he hadn't said that in the first place. It was incredibly strange. As attractive as I found, Gil, he was starting to freak me out a bit.

I had only gotten involved to numb the thoughts of John and it hadn't worked, so there was no point continuing the relationship. I politely thanked him for breakfast, and I set about trying to avoid him. It was an almost impossible task. Everywhere I went, I saw him. My trip to the spa, he was having a treatment as I walked in. My solo reservation in the evening was ruined by him sitting two tables away, smiling at me. He made me feel so uncomfortable and I scorned myself for my actions. As I sat at the bar after dinner, he approached.

He asked if he could join me and I politely told him that I didn't feel a spark between us and I would rather spend some time alone. The next words that came out of his still smite, mouth sent shivers down my spine. Well, you are a thorny rose. It may have been a coincidence. I prayed that it was, but to refer to me by my real name, even if he was talking about the flower, was one hell of a coincidence. Something was wrong with Gil. Twice he had made references to my life that he should be totally unaware of. He turned and walked away without giving me a chance to respond,

and I was left shaken. I waited for half an hour before going back to my room to avoid meeting him outside again. Still, when I reached our corridor, I saw him standing dead still, staring in my direction. As he spotted me, he smiled, nodded and entered his room. I ran to mine, my hands shaking as I pressed my electronic room key to the pad and shot through the door. I sat on the floor of my hotel room, back to the door,

and cried. This had turned from the escape of a lifetime into feeling trapped by a man. Nothing had changed from being back home. On top of it all, I missed. John, even after everything he had done to me, everything that had happened with that girl, he was my everything. I didn't know anything besides him and our life together. Gil followed me from a distance everywhere. I begged the receptionist to move me to a new room, but they were fully booked. Unsurprising in a hotel of this quality, but disappointing regardless.

All night he bangs on the wall that we share between our neighboring rooms. I can't no more sleep here than I ever did at home with John. I can't go for a swim without him being sat around the pool. I can't eat in the restaurant without his reservation being at the same time as mine. And I can't even leave my room without him outside, smiling. He stopped trying to talk to me. I'm not sure if it's better now that he's silent or worse. It's certainly more unsettling.

I can't go home. I'm not ready to see John after what happened, despite my concerns about Gil. And now I can't leave my hotel room either. I've been in here for a day and a half. I put the 24-hour news channel on to soothe myself. It made the whole place feel more like home. and it helps to drown out the banging on the wall that I know is coming from Gil. This little break has it backfired on me badly.

I was supposed to relax. Stop thinking about everything that happened. Start again. But Gil has just sent my mind into overdrive. I'm terrified and sleep deprived. I don't know where to turn anymore. About an hour ago the news flashed up with a new story from my hometown. It was the news that I've been dreading since I left John a week ago.

Confirmation that I could never go home again. Jody King, the girl that John had been paying all that attention to, had been found. Well, parts of her had been. Her parents were on the news in tears. I could understand it. Their lives had been torn apart, just like their daughter. I felt bad that I was glad she couldn't steal him from me any longer. I felt awful for every limb I removed from her body. I felt bad for still deeply loving John. I felt bad for running away, but I knew the police would find her. John was at a business conference when I did it, and she was at a business conference. She was, was in the house. Imagine finding your husband's mistress in your home? The rage. That's what happened. It just bubbled up. I had suspected John of cheating on me before, but never in our home. And when I saw her, I knew this wasn't a fling. She was here to stay. She had the same expression on her

face that I had when he had first shackled me to the wall and told me I had no parents, no name. The same spark in her eye when she begged me to help her. She was everything he had wanted me to stay forever and that I couldn't possibly be anymore. He was trying to replace me. I killed her, but the newsfeature didn't suspect me. The police were called to to my husband's house not long after I fled, when a human arm was spotted in the rose bushes out front. My rage bred carelessness. They reported that his wife Rose was missing and presumed to have been killed by him as well. He was arrested and evidence in the house tied him to 10 other disappearances of young girls, ranging from 13 to 17. It was also recently suspected that he was

tied to another disappearance of a girl, age 12, two years before the others, but no evidence was found. The case just fit his profile perfectly. The news anchor showed a picture of that little girl before she went missing 13 years ago. Her name was Laura Keller, and I fell to the floor and soft, looking into my own young eyes photographed before I had met John Bourne. He had changed my face however he could, but he couldn't change my eyes. I knew that I was looking at a young picture of myself. It had been such a long time that I had forgotten my life before, but looking at that old picture brought all of my trauma to the forefront in a visceral way. All the things that John had done to me while he was brainwashing me into total devotion,

something that had been such a successful venture, he was even able to introduce me as his wife in public. I was so dependent that I was given freedoms seldom awarded. to anyone considered a hostage. I went for my parents, for John, for all the other girls, and most of all, for Jody King. What had I done for such an evil man? My mind thumped in rhythm with the wall, and I could barely breathe through the deep, panicked sobs. Everything felt so busy that I barely noticed the thumping stop. And the piece of folded up paper come through the door. I picked it up and held it at arm's length so that my tears didn't land on it.

After not long, the thumping on the wall restarted, and it indicated that Gill had been the note-leaver and had made it back to his room. I opened the paper and read the words inside. every one leaving a bitter lump in my throat that I know will never go away. I know what you did. You could have saved her. I will never let you get a moment's rest. Guilty.

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