Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S2 Ep55: Episode 55: Pink Floyd, Waking Nightmares and More

Episode Date: November 12, 2021

We open tonight’s podcast with an original story by Wicked Sushi, shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me read it for you here:  https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/4s7u23/the_madness_of_syd_barret We follow that with a pair of original, anonymous stories: ''How Lucky I Was'' and ''Soundless'' http://www.creepypasta.com/how-lucky-i-was/ http://www.creepypasta.org/creepypasta/soundless We round of this podcast with a story by Ebru Hal, kindly shared with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all.  http://www.creepypasta.com/trial-and-error/

Hey Ontario, come on down to BetMGM Casino and check out our newest exclusive. The Price is Right Fortune Pick. Don't miss out. Play exciting casino games based on the iconic game show. Only at BetMGM. Access to the Price is right fortune pick is only available at BetMGM Casino. BetMGM and GameSense remind you to play responsibly. 19 plus to wager, Ontario only. Please play responsibly. If you have questions or concerns about your gambling or someone close to you,

please contact Connix Ontario at 1866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. Welcome to Dr. Creepin's Dungeon. You know, a person never ever knows when they go insane. They just suppose it's the world altering, not themselves, as we will see in tonight's selection of stories. Later on, we have how lucky I was, and soundless, two anonymously written stories. We round off this evening with trial and error by Ebrouhaw. But first of all, we have a madness of Sid Barrett by Wicked Sushi.

Now, as always, before we begin, a word of caution. Tonight's stories may contain strong language, as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery. If that sounds like your kind of thing, then let's begin. I recently fulfilled my lifelong dream of becoming an audio engineer at Harvest Records, a British record company. So far, everything has gone great.

The staff are nice. The equipment used is top notch. I feel quite honored to work in the studio where great bands such as Pink Floyd, Deep Purple and Death Grips have been. However, there is one main reason why I picked Harvest Records over any other recording studio. The reason I applied here was so I could listen to the influence record titled Melting Lady by Sid Barrett's short-lived band, Stars. In case you don't know about Sid Barrett or this mysterious album, let me give you some history.

Sid Barrett used to be a member of the band Pink Floyd. He was on the band's first two records, The Piper at the Gates of Dawn, and a saucer full of secrets. However, after the release of a source of full of secrets, Barrett was developing schizophrenia and was starting to hallucinate things. His mental illness was getting in the way of live performances and recording new material. So he was forced to quit. He was replaced by David Gilmore. After Pink Floyd, Barrett released two solo albums for Harvest Records.

One titled The Mad Cat Laughs and the other was simply called Barrett. Barrett rarely toured for these albums. After the two solo albums he decided to form a new band named Stars. The band would have Sid Barrett on guitar and vocals, Jack Monk on bass and John Twink Alder on drums. Not much is known about this other than a few live performances of doing covers. and a lost album that may or may not exist. Melting Lady was rumoured to be the title,

and it was supposed to be filled with macabre songs. I was starting to ask my fellow co-workers about whether or not they'd listen to Melting Lady. They just ended up staring at me and walking away. They didn't even give a vocal response. Nick Harpo, a man who's been working here for a long time, heard me talking about Melting Lady and approached me. Are you sure you want to listen to that album?

Mr. Harpo said. Yes, I replied. Well, looks like curiosity is going to kill the cat. Follow me. I followed Mr. Harpo to the storage room, shutting the door behind me. This was, thankfully, at a time when no employee needed to use the storage room. Mr. Harbour pulled out of vinyl from a box. The cover of this album featured a woman sitting in her chair with her flesh melting off.

This was drawn by Storm Thorgeson, and this is easily his most disturbing artwork ever. Sid Barrett wrote all the songs to this album. He said he was guided by his story. very particular muse, said Mr Harpo. He put the vinyl in a nearby record player, while I eagerly waited in anticipation. The first track was titled Jimmy the Goat. It was a lighthearted folk rock tune that had silly lyrics about some talking goat named Jimmy. In a way, it kind of reminds me of yellow submarine.

The first two stanzas of the song are as follows. He's a friend of yours, he's a friend of mine entire once be aboard. Da-da-da-da-ta-da-changed the goat. It seemed like a fun song you could listen to with your family, until the final two stanzas of the song came up. The kids jump and the kids are leaping it up and the kids are leak it death. Those last two stanzas had completely caught me off guard. At the time of hearing, I assumed it was Barrett's way of telling some surreal dark comedy.

I chuckled a little with Mr Harpo looking at me like I'm some kind of crazy loon. The second and third track was literally one song just split in half. The tracks were titled Brain Damage and Eclipse. Now, you may remember these songs from Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, but as it turns out, this version is the original, and Pink Floyd covered it. Sid originally wanted to make a six-track album, but we told him at least seven tracks,

so he split the song in half. Pink Floyd did the same thing in honor of him, informed Mr. Harpo. I swayed to the song while Barrett sang about some lunatic in his head. The Pink Floyd version is better, though, as if the original is a bit dishevelled. The fourth track is titled Melting Lady. It features Barrett messing around with a Moog synthesizer, while the bass and drums are kept to a minimum. Here's a part of the song.

From there, the fifth track is titled God Hates Us. It was another folk rock song, but it was a little bit more menacing than Jimmy the Goat. The lyrics went as follows. These lyrics are repeated three times to this slow and ominous folk rock melody. Then all of a sudden it cuts to a chaotic and noisy instrumental. The instrumental was so loud and amateurish that it sounded like a middle school rock band. It was layered with loud shrieks coming from Sid Barrett. The shrieks almost sounded somewhat familiar to the shrieks in Suicides' Frankie Teardrop song.

The sixth track was titled Two Little Towers. It was a piano-driven piece with Sid Barrett playing the piano. Jack Monk trades his bass for a guitar on this one. It was a popier track, even though the subject matter wasn't poppy at all. Here's the chorus. Little tower, little towers. Pretty freaky, right? One verse in this song

talks about how Barrett is going to die on July 7th, 2006, which he did. The other verse is about impending nuclear doom in the year 2030. The seventh and final track of this album is called Hell. It's a 17-minute.

track of a thousand loud things going off at once. This thing was louder than anything Mertzboe could come up with. I only listened to a minute and a half of it because the damn track is way too noisy. I took the vinyl off the record player and took a few deep breaths. I hate that track. The most I could listen to it was five minutes, commented Mr. Harpo. He then told me a little bit more about the track. He said that Monk and Twink weren't present for this recording, so this is more of a Sid Barrett's solo piece. He doesn't remember how Barrett created the sounds or who produced it, and it remains a mystery to this day. He also talked about how, after the album was finished recording, the staff of Harvest Records at the time threw a listening party for it. None of the band was

present for some reason. When the final track came on, everybody left the room immediately, except for two employees who dared each other to stay. Half an hour later, when the staff came back, they found the two employees fighting each other to death with the most animalistic facial expressions. Rick, one of the two staying employees, pinned his staying friends. friend Chris to the ground and pounded on his head until it was no more than blood and gush. Rick, to this day, is in a mental ward where he has never talked verbally and acts feral. Mr. Harpo also talked about how, one time, Harvest records was broken into and a bunch of records were stolen. The next week, the police responded to a murder-suicide that happened in a London home.

It turns out that one of the inhabitants had stolen the records, and one of those records was Stars and Melting Lady. Listening to that track in its entirety will make you go mad, said Mr Harpo. My shift was over, and I went home. I immediately googled what had happened to the members of stars. Sid Barrett lived the rest of his life as a recluse and died on his predicted day. Not much is known about Jack Monk, but he is still alive. John Twink Alder converted to Islam and changed his name to Muhammad Abdullah.

Nothing too crazy happened to these guys after their breakup. But I have to say, listening to that album changed my life in a bad way and I'm never going to forget it I was dying I knew it my doctors knew it

and my family knew it it's only been 16 weeks since my official diagnosis yet here I lie trapped in this generic hospital bed surrounded by various machines beating and wheezing in a haunting melody that has likely been the last lullaby for countless souls before me. I mean, for God's sake, I'm 56 years old. How the hell did it come to this?

I was given a hundred different reasons why my legs gave out on me before this team of specialists came to a consensus. Guillambar syndrome. I was told my immune system was attacking my nervous system, and, although potentially treatable, it was not curable. So far in my case, it's been neither. It started with my legs, first attributed to a pinched nerve in my lower back. Over the next several weeks, my breathing became weaker and weaker,

until I could barely breathe on my own. My arms began to feel like ship anchors weighing them down. Then they didn't feel like anything at all. I should be living the best years of my life. Instead, I'm trapped in a body that four months ago was perfectly healthy, now relegated to blinking and shedding a tear to express an entire range of words and emotions. At this point the doctors do nothing but tell me to think. think positive. If not to aid in my recovery, then at least for the sake of my family. I know they're

right, but at the same time, the timing of it all could not be any word. I was able to comfortably retire in the spring, and my youngest had left home the month after, joining our daughter in San Francisco to work for some internet startup. That just left my wife and I to travel the world. Just as we talked about since our first moments as husband and wife. Oh, Catherine, I'm so sorry. I can't help but feel like I've let her down. We sacrificed so much time for each other for the sake of our kids and an early retirement. Assuming we would have all the time in the world for ourselves down the road.

Well, down the road came and went, and here we are. To her credit, she's been nothing short of amazing. She's always been, quite literally, my better half, and it showed most recently more than ever. The whole process has just been as devastating for her, if not more so. And yet, up to now, she's the only source of positivity between us. Now, though, even she seems to be nearing the realisation that she may end up leaving this hospital alone.

As these thoughts enter my mind, my eyes well up with tears. As my eyes meet hers, I notice they begin to glisten as well. They are an incredible shade of blue, like looking into the deep of the ocean from the window of an airplane. I could stare into them forever,

and it breaks my heart to think that, for me, forever isn't that long at all. After a few seconds that graciously seemed like hours, I break her gaze as the door to my room opens, and another doctor makes his way in. I hadn't seen this doctor before. I wasn't all that surprised or concerned. A lot of them have been in and out,

giving their useless input and expertise on my condition. I watched him as he calmly walked across the room, around to the bed and to the seat right beside my wife. She didn't seem to pay attention to him at all. She didn't seem to want to pay him any attention. Well, I didn't want to either. I was tired of these people coming in, experimenting with new treatments that did nothing but fuel my frustration at this disease and continued to rip me from my life. and from Catherine.

I could tell she was still looking at me, finally letting her pent-up emotions get the better of her, as tears streamed down her face like condensation. And her smile became hidden behind tightly pursed lips. I wanted so desperately to squeeze her hand, to look at her and tell her everything was okay. But I wasn't able to, just as I wasn't able to take my eyes off of my new doctor.

as he took a seat next to her. He was wearing a typical white robe and looked to be wearing a nice black suit underneath. He was probably a research director or some of the head high up on the pay scale. His face was devoid of any emotion, and it didn't appear as if he had any intention of speaking to either of us. He was holding his hands out in front of him, the same way someone would hold a candle at a vigil. I uncomfortably turned my eyes to his hands as he sat unnervingly still. I didn't know what this man was doing, and it seemed that, although Catherine didn't acknowledge his presence,

she'd grown increasingly upset since the moment he entered the room. I was furious. He'd taken away the only source of positive energy I had, and I just wanted to be a moment he'd just wanted to be. to leave us in peace. As the curiosity in my stare turned into menace, he reached his hands in front of my wife and placed a small black box between us. It didn't look like a jewelry box,

nor did it appear that it could even be opened. It was just a cube, black in its purest form. It was dark enough to appear as if it was an absence of space. space rather than an object sitting on my bedside, like a broken pixel on a computer screen. I looked from the box to my wife, expecting her to be inquiring to this man about the box, or even of his presence in general, but she had still yet to look away from me. If she was so upset, why hasn't she asked this man to leave? I would be screaming at this man

out of the hospital if I could. but all I could do was turn my attention back to the doctor and hope my eye contact was enough to relay the message. As it turned out, he hadn't taken his eyes off me either. His emotional appearance of perfect contrast to my near unhinged wife. I had no idea what to make of this incredibly strange situation. But before I could even compose a thought about it, it. The doctor reached from my arm and extended it towards my wife. I was hoping he did so in an effort to comfort her. So she could grab my hand and we could pretend, at least briefly, that things would be okay. However, my wife did not extend her hand in return, and instead my hand fell short of her, as the doctor rested it directly on top of the black box.

my eyes shut tight like I'd just been shocked by a loose wire and my heart was racing pumping faster than it had in months it was a few seconds before I was able to open my eyes again and when I did I was practically blinded by sunlight when my eyes adjusted I found I was no longer in my bed but in a yard my yard well my parents' yard, I suppose. I was at my childhood home in Indiana, running around like I had done every day when I was little. Unbelievably, I was able to move again. But I soon realized that my movements were not my own.

It seemed so familiar, but it didn't hit me until I began to run towards the garden my mum had in the back of the yard, that this... was a memory. A very real memory and one of my first, to be exact. It was the first time I was stung by a bee when I was three years old. All I could do was watch as it all played out for me. I ran next to all the flowers, stopped at a bright red tulip, right as a busy honeybee was crawling out of it. I knew I would grab the bee with my hand, and it would sting me in the middle of my palm,

causing me to wail in pain as I ran towards the back door and into the waiting arms of my concerned mother. Except that wasn't how it happened. I grabbed the bee just as I remember. But instead of immediately dropping it, I swung my hand towards my face and threw the bee directly into my mouth. I panicked as the bee hit the back of my throat and its stinger pierced the lining. I then began to sprint towards the door like I remembered. But instead of making it inside, I fell several steps short as my breaths became strained and

my throat began to swell and close. My heart was beating out of my chest as it desperately worked to keep me moving. But soon I was unable to take in any air at all, and my vision began to fade. I turned over to see my mother, and the last thing I can make out was the unforgettable look of terror on her face as she grabbed me, her hysterical screaming sounding miles away as darkness enveloped this horrible, distorted memory. My eyes shot open again. And just as I was about to shout to my mother that I was okay, she was gone.

I was breathing just fine, and as I regained my bearings, I realized I was off the ground and on a bike. I was in another memory. This time, one of my first time was trying to ride a bike. My dad was jogging lightly behind me, excitedly urging me to keep going, as I'd finally set a good pace following several falls into my neighbor's yard. This was such a happy memory.

But after that warped nightmare I'd just endured, I wanted so badly to turn around to him and scream for his help. Try as I might, I couldn't. Instead, I was laughing along with my father. I was proud of myself for finally getting the hang of it. I continued to pedal faster and faster as my confidence grew, and I began to pull away from my dad. I remember looking back at him with a smile as he told me to stop,

because I was approaching an intersection at the end of my block. I had stopped just fine from what I could remember, but for some reason I continued to look back at him, to tell him to hurry up and stop me. I didn't know how to use my brakes. I thought I did, but then I began to scream as I reversed my peddling to no avail, and my hands frantically waved across my handlebars,

in an attempt to grant the handles. I gave up fast and turned back again to see my dad right behind me. His hands outstretched within a foot of the back of my seat. I took my hands off the handlebars to try to reach back to him. But just as I was within inches of his hands, I was violently pushed away as a sickening thud, and a high-pitched screech replaced the sounds of his hands. my frantic screams. I felt the air shoot out of my body as the front tire of a pickup truck

crushed my bike and rolled over the middle of my back. I felt like my eyes were half way out of my head and I couldn't feel much of anything. As I once again faded out from this horrible memory, the last thing I saw was my dad lying next to me. Arms still outstretched. and blood pouring from his exposed neck, as his head rolled slowly, a few feet in front of me. Again, my eyes opened. I didn't want them to. I was so afraid to see any more of my life ruined by these twisted variants of my memories. But this new experience began anyway.

It was dark, and I was driving rather fast on an empty, winding road. As things progressed, I had a hard time putting together when and where this was. This was the first memory so far that I didn't really, well, remember. It didn't help that I felt a little disoriented, but I just assigned it to the effects of what I'd already seen during these terrible nightmares. Had I fallen asleep with that doctor there? Did he do something to me? What about Catherine?

just as I'd thought about her I heard a laugh coming from the passenger seat of the car hers God no not Catherine don't do this to me

I couldn't bear to see anything happen to her I don't give her shit if any of this is real or not I looked over to see her laughing in the passenger seat and couldn't help but laugh myself. Hell if I know why, laughing is the last possible thing I felt like doing. But I did it anyway. She looked younger, but still as beautiful as she always had been.

And she was dressed in a costume. She looked like Wonder Woman. As I saw myself, dressed as a Clark Kent Superman combination, it hit me like a ton of bricks. We were on the way back from a Halloween party in college. I couldn't picture when this happened because I didn't remember it. I was drunk. For years the both of us talked about how lucky we were to make it back safely to my apartment that night and she was mad at me for a week when I told her I was as drunk as she was that night. As our laughter continued back in the car, I dread it what was yet to happen. I looked over at her again and I couldn't help but stare. She really was beautiful. I was completely lost in those same blue eyes to the point that when my car began to veer off the road, I still didn't look away.

Even when my head snapped forward and the windshield shattered from the force of the collision with a telephone pole, I kept my eyes on her as her seatbelt snapped and her body propelled forward over the dashboard and straight into the pole. Her body contorted and snapped as the steering wheel cracked the front of my skull wide open. I fell back against my seat as Catherine's lifeless body collapsed in a jagged heap next to mine. Her eyes were wide open, still with a look of blissful laughter as a small stream of blood ran slowly between them. As I drifted from consciousness, her piercing blue eyes continued to stare through me. My eyes opened.

Of course they did. And they keep opening. Memory after memory went by. Nostalgia and happiness replaced with torturous, morbid misery like all the others. My parachute doesn't open. as I'm skydiving during our honeymoon, and I'm forced to watch the ground below envelop me

and listen to my body splinter. I wake up again to a late-night run to get my pregnant wife fast food. She'd asked me to go half an hour earlier, and her favourite takeout was surrounded by police by the time I made it. This time, though, she woke me up just in time to be next in line as a man put a bully. in the back of my head before jumping the counter for a few hundred dollars. All of these dreadful phenomena blend together as my memories turn against me and leave me in perpetual agony as the familiar darkness begins to set in. I almost welcome it as a sweet, yet temporary relief. As I open my eyes, I feel as if

as if my body has finally caught up with all that my mind has been through. Through bleary, tired eyes, I observe my surroundings. Trying to piece together what moment in my life is about to be forever ruined. I recognize the flickering halogen light on the ceiling and the persistent sounds of beeping and wheezing machines. My eyes scanned the rest of my hospital room, and I realized they were moving. of my own volition. I was back in my bed, and Catherine was at my side, just as she'd been all day, and many days before. Before I could look at her, I looked at the space on my bed in front of her

where that awful box had been. It was gone. Relieved, I looked into my wife's eyes, full of life and love. Through the horror I was forced to experience, thoughts of real happiness began to break through. I spent so long in this hospital bed, being so upset with life for taking me so early, that I didn't think about what a miracle it was that I made it to this point to begin with.

I was raised by loving parents. I was able to meet the woman of my dreams and spent 35 beautiful. beautiful years with her, raise a wonderful family together, and despite not being able to continue living this wonderful life I had, I felt so thankful for the years that I was given. I was so happy to see Catherine again, that my eyes began to well up with tears, and hers returned the favor. While we shared this visual embrace, I felt a brief rush of strength. It was my arm. I was so overcome with emotion that I hadn't realized that my once lifeless arm had come up off the

hospital bed and extended slowly towards my wife. Tears burst from her eyes and her lips tightened to keep herself from audibly sobbing as she reached her arm out and took my hand in hers. I thought my tears had begun to blur my vision, but as the room began to grow darker, I knew that I'd finally reached the end. I hated to leave her this way, but as I thought back to the memories the nightmares attempted to ruin, and the countless untainted memories I shared with her, I was astounded at how lucky I was.

Finally at peace, I closed my eyes, as the door to my room opened, and a doctor made his way in. I opened my eye. Ever since I can remember, I've been able to see things that others cannot. I still remember the days of my infancy when I would, for the first time, sleep in my own bed, in my own room,

and how the shadows of unknown beings would haunt my room. Or, perhaps, my head. All I know is that I saw things, and that, at least to me, These things were as real as the other things that other people were able to see and touch. I can still play in my memory the ominous events. How I pointlessly attempted to sleep as the door of my wardrobe opened slowly and always stopped just before I was able to see what pushed it open,

although it was already hard enough to see with one eye barely open, just to be aware, in case. that whatever hid behind the door decided to come out. As I grew older, I came closer in contact with these things, and I started to be able to sense them, feel them, and even smell them. The odour was not pleasant. It was a rotten smell. Maybe even came close to the smell of death itself.

As time passed and I got more used to these beings, my senses became... more effective. I could see everything, sense everything, smell everything, and was able to differentiate what was one of these beings, and what was something else shared with the rest of the people around me. However, as close as I came to these beings, I could never hear them. This made me feel so desperate. I knew they were there, I could sense them. I was able to tell they were there, but the missing noise provoked an immense fear. How was it possible that with everything these beings were able to do, they did not emit any sound? Seeing them, knowing they were there, but still unable to hear them.

Soon enough people noticed my constant state of, as they called it, paranoia, and I was sent to a psychologist. I was not paranoid. I was merely cautious. I had to keep my senses always in full of attention as to what was around me, since I could not hear them, and they could get closer to me at any time when my guard was down and do God knows what to me. Maybe convert me into one of them. Maybe they were demons trying to drag my soul into the depths of hell. Maybe they were angels of death trying to steal my life away. I'd refuse to go to said psychologist, but I was dragged to his so-called office, which looked more like his own apartment. The visit was quick. He asked me all kinds of questions about my life and got me to talk about my personal life too. I told him everything about my past experiences with the strange

beings that haunted me, being 25 years old and having a long history of experiences like these. Ever since I can remember did not go down too well with a doctor and I was sent to a psychiatrist, whom, after the very first visit, prescribed pills for me. He explains me that the pills would help me get rid of the beings, and would help me feel less stressed, and that I would be able to maintain a more normal lifestyle. He did, however, warmly that those pills were not easily found, but that whenever I needed more, he could provide me with them.

And he also mentioned that the effects would kick in slowly, and that the more I took, the faster they'd fade away. After a month of taking the pills, I could feel the difference. I felt more free, less scared, and the beings would stay away as long as I could take these pills. The pills made my life so much better. People around me would no longer call me insane, or mention I see. seemed paranoid. All in all, whatever these pills did to me, I knew that the things I'd seen were not a product of my imagination. I knew they were real, and wherever they were when I took the pills, they were just waiting, waiting in the darkness of my ignorance, waiting in the silence they'd always been in. But of course, everything has an ending no matter what it is everything ends eventually one day approximately

three years after my treatment began I ran out of pills as usual this wasn't a problem all I had to do was go back to the doctor and ask for more to my surprise the doctor wasn't there anymore he had disappeared An immense fear invaded me and I felt more worried than I'd felt in my whole life, even when those things were around. Then it hit me. Those things, those fucking things had taken him. They knew he provided me with the pills that kept them away from me. I knew the pills were not so easy to find, as the doctor had already said. and those things knew it as well.

I had to find more pills, wherever and at any cost I had to find more. Those things would be back again otherwise, and it might be sooner rather than later. Days passed, and as they passed I started to see them again, but luckily for me they started coming back slowly, as if they were, reversely fading back into my life. I could see them again in the corners of my house, still hiding in the shadows, making themselves more evident as time passed.

I could see them again. I could see them when I tried to sleep, creeping through the gap between the wall and the door in my room. I could see them again, and it did not take long for me to start feeling their presence. once more. Their odour came back, and in less than two months, in which I desperately looked for more pills in the doctor, they were back. Before this torture came back into my life, I'd noticed that the doctor's disappearance was not just evident for me. The doctor had indeed disappeared.

Police officers, along with his family, looked for the doctor, or any clue. Or any clue. that could drive them to him, but never found anything. In the meantime, I slowly descended back into my long-forgotten hell. This time though, something horrible happened. The one thing that I felt before, like it was the worst thing about being able to know these things were always there, turned out to be a torture with no comparison. After two months, I could start hearing them. They became louder and louder every night.

They were screaming. When they did not scream, they whispered. When they didn't do one or the other, they simply talked to me, requesting from me, demanding from me to do horrible things. of all the things I could hear from them, the whispers were the worst. Because when they whispered, ironically, they were louder and clearer than when they spoke or screamed. They did not demand anything from me when they whispered. They simply whispered four words that caused a frightening chill that traveled from the core of my bosom through my chest to the very

tip of my fingers and to my head. They whispered over and over again. At night these whispers rang in my head, freezing my blood and causing tears to come out of my eyes as if they were waterfalls. After a few weeks of living like this, the screaming, the demands and whispers became more constant, every day and every night haunting me and making those around me fear for my well-being. Everything became so constant, all the demands for blood, the whispers that kept reminding me I could not escape them, the screaming, and more recently the maniacal laughter, as if they enjoyed my suffering and fed from my desperation. I thought, back when those around the world, I thought, back when those around me used to say I was just insane and that it was all in my head. And I realized that if it

were to be true, that this was all just in my head, then it would be worth taking the risk. I ran into my kitchen and the screaming and everything else became louder with every step. They all started to shout, speak, laugh and whisper at the same time as I was. I rapidly grabbed a knife I'd left on the sink. All the noise at once became quiet. Silence. The screaming and all that torture rapidly faded away as I could feel a warmth and a stinging yet relieving pain in my throat. The red spilled out of my throat, soaking my shirt in blood. I felt the ground, barely feeling the impact of the fall. I felt numb, and suddenly I felt a freezing cold.

As I lie on the floor, feeling my life slowly fade away. I can see and tell my life to you. You who have tortured me for so long, and that now at the edge of my life finally leave me in peace. You, who I have been trying to get away from for so long, and have even succeeded for a while. To you, I tell this. I did escape you, and although it cost me my life,

I can say it is worth it. Why even bother to live? if my mere existence had become a torture. School camp. This is one of the things I enjoy most about being a teacher. Each term at Hamilton College, the students are taken to a different camping location that enables them to bring the content of their studies to life.

For this particular camp, the other teachers and I organized to take the students to Lake Eildon. where, together with spectacular nature views, an ancient building had been uncovered by archaeologists over 70 years ago. I'm a bit of a history nerd, so I took the lead in organizing the location and the activities for this camp. The Year 10 students were all focusing on ancient temples where sacrifices were considered holy rituals. Now, this particular temple is said to be at least one, 1,000 years old. Built and maintained by a Jewish community, sacrifices included animals and

not humans. Well, according to the record anyway, many artifacts and bones were uncovered at the site that indicated this, and archaeologists and anthropologists have confirmed the same by relating it to other historical rituals. Of course, To ensure the safety of Lake Ilden, I organised to venture out on a three-day camping trick with two of my colleagues, Anna and Josh. Both these teachers were in the same faculty as I was, and we'd been friends for at least ten years. I graduated from high school together with Josh and studied with him throughout university. I started working at Hamilton College as a graduate teacher, and Josh joined me one year later. I'd known Anna since primary school, but developed a strong friendship only after we met at

a social gathering. She started out as a teacher at Hamilton College and got the gig the same year I did. So, a bit of a coincidence, eh? On Monday morning, I picked up Anna and Josh and we began the four-hour road trip. I'd packed far too much stuff for the three-day trip, but most of my packing consisted of photography and recording equipment. I wanted to do a little digging clearly. I always felt that I should have been an archaeologist because of the curiosity that drove me to find new things. Even as a kid, I always found myself lost in the forest during family barbecues or examining the

significance of artifacts at the State Museum. I was always reading. My personal love, library at home was stacked with history books and biographies of archaeologists and historical academics. Josh and Anna both enjoyed history too, but they were not at this mad level about history as I was. All the same, I was glad that two of my friends had accepted to accompany me on this mini-trip. We arrived at Lake Ilden midday Monday. The lake was completely deserted. It was at least an hour drive to the nearest town. This aspect of camp worried many of the teachers at the school. But after a long battle of convincing, the school decided that with the company of more than eight teachers during the camp, it would be completely safe.

The views were spectacular. The lake, with water a foggy blue, was completely still and the mist of the morning rested on the surface of the water. The premises were on the hills opposite to where we were setting up camp and were nothing short of pure greenery. On our side of the lake, the Arden Woods, things were a little darker than on the bright side of the hills. A musk of fog stooped across the tops of the trees. trees and caused a chilly climate on the ground. We set up our tents and lighting and decided to start a small fire to get ourselves warmed up.

Because of the tall gradient of the hills across the lake, the setting of the sun seemed to come sooner on our side in the woods. This didn't bother me, considering we would have an endless supply of lighting for our stay. The darkness wouldn't be a problem. I didn't realize how creepy this side of the lake could get, said Jake, while adding some more branches he collected earlier to the blazing fire. It's not so bad, Jake. Come on, toughen up. Become one with nature. No, really.

This place is completely safe. There's no wildlife here apart from birds and insects. I responded. So, it's literally just... The trees. Oh, and the monster lurking in the forest, I joked. We spent the night thinking and planning activities that the students could do around the lake. I think that we explore the forest bright and early in the morning and mark a pathway that we could use with the students.

Sort of like a pre-planning for an adventure. What do you guys think? I asked. I'd say the students will probably get a lot of. lost in there, especially of those one or two idiots who think they're heroes. But if you're saying we should mark a path for them, then I guess it should be fine,

said Josh. And Anna nodded in agreement. There was nothing but silence that night. We all slept in our own tents and were circled around the still burning fire. Anna was sound asleep

but Josh was up. I could tell by the light protruding out of his tent. Of course, he's playing games on his phone. Even the absence of any network connection in these woods wouldn't stop him from using his phone up until the battery finally gave in. I decided to venture out from my tent and creep up on Jake. Opening the zipper of my tent, I was taken aback by the sight before.

for me. Incredible. The views were spectacular at this time of night. The moon's light was glowing over the lake so luminously. Everything was almost clear before me. Then, something caught my eye across the lake. What was that? At first I thought it was a tree, but like I mentioned before, there was nothing but grass on the hillside of the lake. It was a tall figure And it stood so still in the middle of the hills That I could almost sense it facing me Maybe even looking straight at me

Don't be foolish There's nothing out there I almost felt the hair on my neck stand up as I said it And out of curiosity I started walking toward the lake I stood on the edge of the water and peered across to the other side. But whatever it was that had stood there had now gone.

I glanced down to my reflection in the water, and I noticed the terrified expression on my face. Why did I feel so scared? I must be delusional, I thought to myself. I turned around slowly and walked back to the camp. The lad in Josh's tent was gone now, He must have fallen asleep, about time. I crawled back into my tent.

I glanced over at my watch and noticed the time. Had it really been two hours since I walked out of my tent? It was just ten minutes. I could have sworn it. I felt the strangeness overwhelm me, and I fell asleep thinking about the silhouette I'd seen across the lake. 5.45 a.m. Okay guys, up we get.

We've got a lot of exploring to do today. I said as I started banging my torch against the pan I found on the floor. Silence. Were these guys seriously sleeping through this noise? I walked over to Josh's tent and unzipped the entry. No one. Where the hell was Josh? Before I started to try and then,

freak myself out, I thought of a logical explanation as I walked over to Anna's tent. She wasn't in her tent either. There must be an explanation. Maybe they went for a swim or a hike and didn't want to disturb my sleep, I thought to myself. But then, the chilling memory of what I'd seen last night crept back into my mind. And I found myself panicking at the thought of it. Was there actually something here in Lake Eildon, or was I imagining it? I picked up the torch and packed a few things in my backpack. I was going to go looking for them. The sun still hadn't risen during that foggy morning,

so the light of my torch would have to leave me through the forest. At that point, I was trying to cancel out any suspicion of something bad happening to the two of my friends, and rather convinced myself that they went exploring without me, or were just lost. I started walking in between the tall trees that surrounded me in the forest, and as I fished for the marking chalk in my pockets to mark my pathway along the trees, I noticed something peculiar. The trees had already been marked.

At first I thought this was. a regular marking caused by nature on one of them. But as I continued further, the marking appeared on other trees that were leading in a particular direction. Curiosity and suspicion welled up in me at that point. I examined the marking on the tree and, strange enough, it was a deep gash in the bark. So much so that the wick was protruding. Every other marking on the surrounding trees were exactly the same. What fueled my curiosity further was the fact that the markings were at least a head and a half taller than me. And then it dawned on me. Knew it, I said aloud to myself. I felt really stupid at this point. Josh and Anna must have started before me,

leaving the markings for me so I could catch up. They can't be too far. I'd be too far. I I just don't understand why they wouldn't wake me up. What fueled my curiosity even more now was the positioning of the markings. How did the guys reach so high? Anyway, I guess I'll find out when I catch up with them, I told myself. I started to follow the direction of the markings and found myself venturing deeper into the forest than I'd ever done so before. The sun was finally rising, and I decided to snack on some of the food I'd packed with me.

It's always good to plan ahead. I'd been hiking for an hour now, and still no sight of them. It made sense to me. They were probably at least two hours ahead of me. But what I didn't understand was why they'd decided to venture so far into the forest. Initially, we'd only planned a 45-minute hike for the students. But I guess they must have discovered something interesting. The forest was uncomfortably quiet.

Not a single rattle from the branches of the trees or the chirping of a bird. It was extremely still. At that point, I began to psych myself out. Silence. What the? I snapped my head around and shot right up. A low grunt. I looked around and saw nothing.

I heard something or someone make a noise. Surely I did. I gazed all around me carefully, examining every tree that was visible to me during that foggy... Josh? Anna. It's got to be one of them. As my thoughts were rolling through my mind, the noise of a sinister chuckle came from behind me,

as if to mock my thoughts and logic. Josh, cut it out, it's not funny. Silence. I grabbed my belongings and quickened my pace. I couldn't help but feel like I was being watched. From behind it, every tree to the bushes on my path. I didn't hear anything after that. Maybe I was just freaking myself out. Either way, I took precautions and held my heavy torch firmly in my hand as a defense

mechanism. I finally came to a halt. Right in front of me was a cave with an entry so dark you couldn't see into it at all. I looked for any other markings. But, coincidentally, the final marking was carved into the tree, standing right beside the cave. This has to be a joke, I thought to myself. Why would Josh and Anna decide to go into the cave?

I started to run back the way I came, convincing myself that waiting for them back at the campsite, would be a better option. As I turned around, I spotted something wedged into the branches beside the cave. A piece of rope? What could that be doing here so deep into the forest? This little piece of evidence proved my fear and worry to be that of a logical nature. They must have gone in there. What if something happened to them down there? They could have fallen to a glitch or made their way through a place. passage that they couldn't find their way out of. Each of these possibilities seemed logical to me.

And, right at that point, I started to really worry about my two friends. How do we even call an ambulance out here? If the final mark ended here, it must mean that they ventured into the cave. The fact that they've been gone for so long must have meant that something happened. I needed to go inside. I took a few unnecessary things out of my backpack and noticed something out of the ordinary. Slightly to the left of the cave was a large, flat stone. I couldn't work out how it could be so round and flat as compared to the cave. Considering the rest of the forest consisted only of bushes and trees.

shaking the curiosity of the abnormally large round stone out of my mind. I switched on my torch and stepped into the cave. The darkness lasted for at least ten metres. Literally nothing but the smooth, encompassing cave walls, save for the light of my torch brightening up the meter in front of me. I was careful to hardly make a little bit more. noise while I tried to listen out for anything that sounded like Josh or Anna. I finally came to an opening. This time there were three entrances to what seemed like more passages. I had no idea how

deep this cave travelled and feared I'd end up lost. What was that? The sound was coming from the third entrance, extremely faint. but audible. I decided to follow the sound in the hope that it would lead me to my friends. It must do, I thought to myself. This passage was a little different to the first. There were carvings on the walls, or what I thought were carvings anyway.

Most of them looked like lines or scrapes to me. This time the noise was coming from behind me. I whipped round and, in a course of panic, I shine my light into every black spot I could possibly see. I scanned the passage slowly, focusing into the abyss that surrounded the light. I shone the light directly above me to the ceiling of the cave, and I froze dead in my tracks. I stopped breathing for what seemed like an eternity. I could feel my heart thumping as though it was attempting to set itself free from my rib cage. With me, about a hundred meters from the entrance of the cave, and with nowhere to run, I saw a black

silhouette lay perched upon the ceiling. I could make out its long, sharp claws and tall, muscular legs. It crouched closer to my face, holding onto the ceiling of the cave with its long claws and arms. Its big yellow eyes peered into mine as if to read my thoughts. My mind and body completely froze in what seemed like a state of hypnosis. It sniggered at me, revealing its wide jaw with a full. set of sharp teeth. I couldn't move. It continued to smile at me, letting out a low, sinister rumble of laughter. Without realizing it, my torch slipped out of my hand, and the cave

went dark. Released from its gaze, I snapped back to life and crouched to the floor, picking up my torch. I started to run back to the entrance of the cave, attempting to switch my torch on at the same time. I don't think I've ever run like that in my life. I snapped my head back to where I'd seen it, shone the light and noticed it standing tall, watching me run with a grin on its face. Why wasn't it chasing me? Why was it smiling? It lowered its head. It lowered its head, And it smiled deepened. I looked straight ahead and ran towards the light that was protruding from the end of the passage. I stepped into the light.

Without wondering about the source, I turned back and faced the passage I'd come from. I gazed back into it, trying to understand what I'd seen. What it was. Why didn't it attack me when it had the chance? I wondered to myself. I saw nothing. Whatever it was that was stalking me had disappeared into the darkness. But it was there watching me. This I knew for certain. I looked around me and noticed a passage of stairs leading to the pit of the cave. It was either that or I'd have to go back the

way I came. I remembered its eyes and ruled that option-out. I was going down these stairs. I started to wonder who'd built this system of stairs and when. As I made my way further down the stairwell, the light seemed to brighten. I was getting closer to the source. At this point, I was starting to wonder how deep into the ground this went. The lower I ventured, the more unease.

I felt. I could still see the entrance back into the dark passage in which I'd come from. I kept my eyes focused on the dark encirclement in an attempt to identify the entity that seemed to be stalking me. All I wanted to do was to find my friends and get the hell out of here. Josh! Anna! I knew that wouldn't work. And if any, I attracted more attention to myself than I had before. Shit, I gasped as I reached the bottom of the cave. I was astounded by what I'd seen. Perched up on a higher platform than the ground were stone structures, circling what seemed like an altar.

In the center of the altar were four stone structures, which looked as though they were built for the purpose of laying something flat on. I was confused at this point, and didn't understand what I was looking at. I turned my head to the right side of the room, hanging from the walls to the right side of the altar, were four corpses. The flesh had been completely dried off of them, and all that was left were their perfectly composed bone structures.

These corpses were three hundred years old, at least. It finally came to me. How had I not realized this earlier? The temple? I'd found it. Or was I led to it? Then it dawned on me. I'd been lured into this cave like a fish is lured to the bait.

I started to piece every I started to piece everything together, all the while losing focus on my surroundings. The silhouette I'd seen across the lake the first night, the eyes in the forest, the markings on the trees, and the chuckles that stalked me all the way to the cave. It all made sense now. I'd been marked that night, and whatever this thing was knew my weakness. And I followed its plan so precisely that it sniggered at my stupidity when it gazed into my face in the darkness. At that point, I knew for certain that Josh and Anna were not here.

I had to get back to camp to warn them. I snapped out of my thoughts and turned to the source of the sound. There it was, crouching low on the ground as though it was redding itself to finally come. consume its prey. It stared into my eyes and opened its chores to send me a message. It lifted its finger and pointed at me with its long claw. I was frozen. Should I just let this thing consume me? It must be hungry, I thought. Three hundred years and I am the first idiot who stumbled into its well-thought-out trap. It must have tried this more than once. I stumbled back and, as I did, it laughed at me. As I hit the ground, I picked up something that felt solid and heavy. At that point,

my hunter had leapt forward in an attempt to catch me. With my full force, I grabbed what I now found to be a long metal rod and swung it so low. fast and so hard until I felt the connection to this thing's head. And, just like that, it wailed and stumbled back into the darkness from which it came. With full speed, I ran up the stairs I'd come down from. Without my torch to guide me, I leapt into the darkness of the passage that would lead me directly to the mouth of the cave. That's... when I heard it. My hunter had regained its strength and was stalking me. I could hear its grunts at least ten meters away. It wasn't going to let me go without a chase. Judging by the noise

it was making, this thing wasn't too far behind me. I reached the entrance of the cave, swirled round to look into the darkness, and I could make out the entity's fierce yellow eyes glowing in the dark. The look of hatred and thirst were portrayed in its piercing glare. I looked around me in search of a weapon I could use as protection. The round stone. I used all of my strength at that moment to wield this stone from the floor. With what felt like my last bit of strength, I laid the big rock flat against the entrance, blocking the light from glaring into the darkness of the cave. That was odd.

The stone seemed to click right into place. I could hear my hunter wailing angrily from inside the cave, attempting to smash down the blockage. I was now certain that, unless moved from the outside, the entrance to the cave was barred from the inside. I picked up a smaller stone off the floor and began to carve into the stone barrier. Do not open. I wrote it in big, clear letters. I had to leave a warning for the next person that may fatally stumble upon this cave. As I picked up everything I had initially taken out of my bag, I listened to the abnormal silence from the cave. Whatever this thing was had stopped wailing. And for some reason, I felt its presence pushed up against the flat stone.

It seemed to be listening to me, to what I was doing. Then it chuckled. That same sinister chuckle I'd heard in the forest. I made a break for it. I ran straight through the forest for what seemed like hours. At least it was light outside, I thought to myself. If that thing found a way out of there, it would be the end for me. No one would hear my cries in these woods. I somehow lost my bearings and found myself surrounded by unmarked trees. Shit, I said out loud. I stumbled further into the forest without paying any attention to the markings on the trees. And now I'd lost them.

I needed to get back to the camp as soon as I could. I was certain that Josh and Anna were there waiting for me. And it was just me who'd fallen prey to the stalker of Isleton Forest. It took me a few hours to get back to the campsite. Everything was just how I'd left it, save for one thing. There was a note attached to the zipper of my tent. I recognised the handwriting straight away, and my stomach churned in pain and discomfort with the feeling of fear.

I opened the note, and this is what it said. We have no idea where the fuck you are or when you disappeared. But Anna noticed some carvings on the trees. and we thought you started off on your adventure without us when we were out gathering some more branches for the fire this morning we waited around for hours for you to come back but after a while we felt uneasy so we've taken most of the stuff with us in case something goes wrong and we're coming to find you if you get this letter before we're back

stay put and wait for us remember there's no reception here so we don't need to be smart about this stay put if we don't find you in the forest in the next three hours we're going to make our way back Josh signed 101 p.m. I looked at my watch immediately 8.40 p.m. It was dark now and this time I knew where Josh and Anna were and I knew that this was all a part of the hunter's ingenious plan. He planned to fail the first time. I finally understood what the phrase, killing two birds with one stone man. I know he can see me, that he's lurking somewhere in the trees. Waiting for me to follow the path that he created to save the friends, I granted him.

Once again, I approached the darkness of the forest, knowing what I had to do. And so once again, we reach the end of tonight's podcast. My thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories and to you for taking the time to listen. Now, I'd ask one small favor of you. Wherever you get your podcast from, please write a few nice words

and leave a five-star review as it really helps the podcast. That's it for this week, but I'll be back again, same time, same place, and I do so hope you'll join me once more. Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye.