Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S2 Ep58: Episode 58: NoEnd House, Whisper Rooms and More

Episode Date: December 2, 2021

Today’s opening tale of terror is ‘Deep Thought’, an original story by Raener Lewington, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all.  https://twitter.com/RaenerLewington Our second offering is the wonderful ‘‘The Whisper Room’’ by AeSko, also kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all. https://www.reddit.com/user/AeSko Our penultimate work of the weird and macabre is anonymously written story named ‘The Dripping Man’:  http://www.creepypasta.org/creepypasta/the-dripping-man We round off tonight’s tales of horror with the legendary ‘NoEnd House’ by Brian Russell:  http://creepypasta.wikia.com/wiki/NoEnd_House http://frombriansdesk.blogspot.com/

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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. It is said that we don't need a chamber to be haunted. We don't need it to be a house. Because the brain has its own corridors that surpass any material place. As we may see in tonight's stories. Later on, we have The Whisper Room by Aiseiko.

Then we have The Dripping Man, an anonymous story. And we round off tonight's podcast with the legendary No End House by Brian Russell. But we kick things off with deep thought by Raina Lewington. Now as ever 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 feel that sometimes I get it caught up in thought. My friends always tell me that I put too much focus on what I do for others and tend to slip out of focus with my actual life.

I tend to focus too much on my research and classes than I do anything else. I ended up breaking off my last relationship because I felt that my work was getting in the way. But I couldn't stop myself. I'm too close to curing outside. Time is disease now. I can't just drop everything for one person, especially when that person might benefit from this discovery. Those relationships are petty anyways.

Finding actual love is very rare, and everyone has at least one divorce in their lifetime. Well, maybe not everyone, but a lot of people do. People in general just take up too much time. I usually only have time to work with people and animals who are working just as hard as I am to cure this disease. I feel like no one supports me well enough to let me work all the time. Not even my boss understands. I am so close.

I can't afford to waste my time on people. The cure I've developed is already moving on to the second stage of animal testing. The apes we are using have already had these conditions induced upon them in previous studies. So I'm basically doing clean-up over what damage others cause to these animals. So far, these animals appear to be making a smooth recovery. They are no longer showing signs of memory loss and their temperament has begun to stabilize. These are good signs and I hope these signs continue to be able to be able to. And I hope these signs continue for the near future.

I accidentally stuck myself with one of the injection needles earlier. It contained a concentrated dose of the enzyme I was using, along with a mixed in enzyme for added effect. I didn't receive the full dose, which is a good sign, but I am starting to space out more, and I'm starting to get a bit more hungry. The cravings started out simple. I craved a bit of chip here and there. A soda.

Simple things that I could get from a vending machine within the building. But then I started to crave meat. Not just any kind of meat. Tough, stringy meat. To satisfy this craving, I went out and bought some jerky from the vending machine. Simple enough. It was satisfying enough while I worked on compiling the data from the previous experiment, but the cravings was starting to build, and I continued to go into deep thought.

I spaced out, and five minutes had passed. All of my chips and jerkeys were gone, and I had two new bags of jerky. I wasn't sure where they came from. But before I could go and investigate this new discovery, my computer interrupted my thinking process and began signaling me that it was time to go and check on the apes again. Same results, slow progress. But at least I'm receiving progress, except for one of the apes. One of the apes looks like it's barely awake. It can hardly sit upright, and it just has drool hanging at it.

the edge of its mouth. Disgusting. Oh well, I suppose test trial eight was a bust. But isn't that the needle I stuck myself with? Maybe, but it doesn't matter. It just seems like his behaviour has changed. Its food trace seemed empty, so I decided to fill it up again. The ape didn't immediately move to greet me. It just stared blankly at me. I left the room and came back with a larger plate of food. When I came back, the ape stared very intently at me, like I was some prey or enemy that it wanted to attack.

It flared its nostrils and stared at the food. It began pounding on its chest, demanding that I put the plate down. I freaked out and nearly dropped the plate at the plate. I placed it down. The ape shoved me out of the way and began devouring the plate of food so quickly that I couldn't look away from it for a single moment. It began pounding on its chest again, demanding more food. I'd never seen anything like this before.

I closed the door behind me and ran out as the ape began to bang on the door, demanding more. I arrived back with an enormous bag of food and rushed back to the door as quickly as I could. As soon as I opened the door, the ape grabbed the food with one arm and shoved me out of the door. It shut the door behind it and threw the bag of food on the floor. It began tearing violently at the casing that was the bag and began ripping handfuls of food out and devouring it. I watched the ape intently, and after only two handfuls of food, the ape growled at me and began pounding on its chest again. I moved out of the way of the window and locked the door.

The ape stopped pounding and went back to savagely devouring the enormous bag of food. It was truly odd, but the ape wasn't showing any signs of aggression towards the other apes. In fact, most of the other apes seem to be hiding and sleeping in the corners of their own rooms, as if they were trying to keep away from the aggressive ape. I decided to head back and begin logging in this new information. I began typing away on my research documents. Update. Subject aid reacted very hostile after receiving injection formula number eight.

The ape began to show erratic and aggressive behavior. towards me and has an unusually large appetite. It devours several servings of food and demands more. Subject 8 will be left in isolation for the next few hours until further observations can be made. After I finished typing in the update, I went into deep thought again and spaced out. I checked my computer to see how much time had passed. One hour had gone by, and there was new forms of food on my work table. There were more bags of jerky, about eight more, and several bags of chips they were all empty, as well as a freshly open bag of cookies, one of which I had in my right hand. I suddenly felt very hungry and began to finish off the cookies. I was starting

to feel the hunger. I had a strong crates. I had a strong craving, a craving for meat, one that I would not be able to satisfy until my work was done for the night. As strange as it was, I decided that it would be best to end work early for the night and go and try and find some real food to eat. I went back to check the experiment rooms, but what I saw left me in shock. I saw five of the eight doors open and a rotten smell was immersed. emerging from them. I began looking in each of the rooms and I saw blood and fecal matter splattered

across all of them. I immediately felt sick and began to vomit on the floor of room too. The apes were gone from the room, but hair and signs of a struggle were clearly visible. The doors looked like they'd been torn from their hinges. I nearly jumped out of my skin. as I heard the loudest shriek I'd ever heard in my life come from room 8. And then I heard that horrible sound. Subject 8 was pounding furiously on its chest. I began to hear more of the shrieks and shrieking coming from room 8. I began to hear bones snapping, tendons tearing.

The horrible sounds of body parts. as being ripped apart filled the hallway and I began to feel true terror what the fuck had happened to subject eight I slowly peered in through the edge of the room and what I saw made me flee and shut the main hallway door behind me I saw subject eight eating the remains of the other apes and trying to crack the other apes head open. The other apes are in a pile, muscles and tendons having been torn off of their bones and devoured savagely. Each of their skulls having been pounded open and their brains removed. It was now devouring the brain of its last subject. I didn't have time to think. I ran out of the hallway and slammed the

the hallway door behind me. Subject 8 began to run out of its room and slammed its body against the door. Thankfully, this door was much sturdier than the doors that contained the subjects. I began to barricade the door. I moved shelves and cupboards in front of it. I began to place boxes in front of the cupboards and blocked off the sides to the door as well to help prevent it from opening. I began frantically writing up a new update on my research. Update. Subject 8 has broken free from its room and has begun to kill and consume the other

subjects. Subject 8 is showing irrational aggression and has a taste for meat. This test has failed and I am requesting immediate assistance. I repeat, immediate. assistance. I submitted the update to the database and began to pack my things. I grabbed a trash can and swept the empty bags into it. I packed up my laptop bag and began to grab my coat. Right as I was about to leave the lab, I entered into another deep thought and spaced out again. When I regained focus, the alarm had been triggered. The alarm we have set if a disease,

disease outbreak has occurred. But what I saw next horrified me more than anything I had seen yet. I saw on the floor next to the alarm lever was my dead lab partner. He'd gone home for the night, but must have come back to check up on me. Both of his arms were ripped off and his face was badly beaten. I tried to help him, but then I saw the blood on my hands. My arms were drenched in blood, and I noticed that my lips were covered in blood as well. It was then that I noticed that his arms had been placed beside him, and I could see teeth marks on them, human teeth marks. I began to cry in the realization that the formula from test eight had turned me into some form of monster. These moments of deep thought I'd been having were moments of enraged hunger that was quickly causing my mind to deteriorate.

I began to hear more banging coming from within the testing hallway. I peered through one of the windows to the hall and saw two more subjects. Subject 7 and 3 had both joined Subject 8 in trying to break down the door. It was at this moment that I ripped out my laptop from my bag and began to write up the events of this evening. Test 8 has brought this entire experiment crashing down, and my research has concluded. The enzymes within serum 8 have created a disease that causes the brain to deteriorate and demands a high caloric intake to satisfy the hunger that is induced. This disease is contagious and will most likely be unable to be contained.

If you are reading this now, run. Subjects 3, 7 and 8 have likely all broken free and are roaming around. killing and eating everything in sight and infecting new hosts my mind is starting to go blank and I am feeling the hunger as well please if you are reading this now take shelter It won't be long before I'm loose as well and have infected more of you with this disease. The three subjects are about to break through the door as I type this. If you are bitten and if you have any heart for humanity, please isolate yourself from everyone else.

because when you begin to experience those deep thoughts and begin to space out, everyone around you will suffer a terrible fate. The newspapers were right. Six whores murdered within the last five months, yet hardly any police action or resources were being used to catch the killer. No one could or would claim the bodies. Nobody knew them. Nobody cared. And for anyone who may have, they didn't want to be associated with a cheap skank from some run-down ghetto. The newspapers were right. Nobody felt compelled to speak for the dead.

as far as they were concerned there was no need for fear this side of town was for right and proper people there were more pressing issues to print on their front page nobody would miss them

Troy scoffed at the paper ridiculous he thought I can't believe this even made a headline at all He was numb to such news, having grown up with a father who stank of cheap booze and fornication, constantly arrested for the assault of his companions and his own son. Troy had known the darker side of life since his formative years. His father was eventually thrown into prison,

whereas years of poor choices caught up with him and died behind bars. because of one of his many diseases acquired. Troy was placed, then lost, in the foster care system, never staying in one house long enough to call it home, or make any real connections with anyone, barely making friends before being hauled off to a new family. Granted, his short-temper and spouts of physical rage may have worried some families. Most knew his backstory and thought perhaps the apple didn't fall far

from the tree. Eventually, he learned how to fend for himself, after much trial and error, and managed to graduate high school with average, he would say decent, grades, before striking out on his own, job hopping until he became manager of a local factory that led him check out of his pay-by-the-week motel living situation. A noise brought him out of his reading. He glanced up to see his wife of 12 years. Rebecca was, in every sense of the word, plain. Plain dull eyes. plain, dry, dull hair.

Even the way she walked nearly bored, tropey, tears. Her only act of rebellion that seemed to stick out in stark contrast to her otherwise forgettable appearance was a slightly faded tattoo of a butterfly that sat on her shoulder blade. She was a loyal wife, though, and she made decent money as a masseurs. and she didn't even protest to his wishes to put off starting a family. Rebecca adorned an exceedingly ugly shawl and picked up her oversized purse. Do you need anything before I come home tonight?

She asked, as she did every day before work. All he could manage was a shrug and a quick shake of his head. All right, I'll be home later than usual. I have a client who booked at the last moment right at the end of my shift. He smiled a joyless grin her way. That's fine. I can catch up on some of my other work projects here. Or maybe he wouldn't.

Who knew? While Rebecca was at work, Troy decided today would be a good day to come. cut loose, feel some excitement again. He too had made his own appointment of sorts. If only she would leave. Rebecca got in her faded tan sedan and drove off. He led out a long, drawn-out sigh. Some days just never seemed to end, before his night could begin. He went to his private closet. Rebecca was good about allowing him his own space and grabbed his travel bag.

Everything seemed to be undisturbed within. So now there was only one thing left to do. He picked up the phone and dialed. The Velvet Rose had always been a top-reviewed motel and fantasy destination. They offered a variety of services, themed rooms, reasonable rates, and best of all. I don't ask, don't tell, no questions-asked policy. If you paid in full and didn't cause too much of a ruckus, none of the staff would bother you or your guests for the evening.

The phone rang twice before the clerk at the front desk answered. He was friendly enough and was able to confirm his stay. One night in the whisper room, a room from which no sound could seep in, nor could escape from. Perfect. Upon his arrival 45 minutes later, Troy wasted no time setting up shop. a red bulb here some bondage on the head and footboard a whip on the nightstand

and his outfit laid out he had about another 30 minutes before his appointment so he decided to take a hot shower and soothe his aches away the one thing his wife wouldn't do for him even given her skills in it some messrs she was Troy put on his leather's his mask

and slid into his dual identity a task made easier by the mushrooms he grew in secret from his wife back home as if waiting for the exact moment the room buzzer rang out as soon as he slipped on the last of his uniform breaking the silence of the whisper room, showtie.

This was the first time Troy had used a professional but discreet escort service. No pictures were offered on the website, just a questionnaire of your tastes and preferences. Any doubts about the woman they would send were swept away as soon as she herself swept into the room. The magic fungus had begun to work its magic. The room refused to sit still, and the colours and patterns seemed to come off the wall to engulf him. He knew that much of it was the drugs, but he didn't believe it took away from the beauty that opened the door.

This woman was the complete opposite of his wife, or indeed any of the women he had ever been with. The swing of her hips was fluid and sensual. far too natural to have been taught. Her deep blonde hair was long, straight and shimmering. Her makeup was excessive but very well done. The outfit fit her like a glove, exaggerating and yet complimenting every curve. Even the way she looked at him made him forget how to breathe for a moment.

His head was swimming and his vision was alternating between hazy and intense, and it made the effect she had that much more appetizing. Remember, he thought, this is business, not a date. Even so, this woman had already excited him more than any other he had known in the past. and even being a stranger from the internet, he felt a familiar, comfortable vibe from her, and almost considered backing out. Almost. There was no need for words.

They went at each other like animals. Over and over again, they took turns as being dominant. He letting her take control more often than not. This was efficient. She was wearing herself out faster. Soon she would be too tired to carry on. And while the physical act was exciting, the thought of what was to come and the helplessness in her eyes

is truly what drove him. to press on. Sweat poured from their bodies, and Troy was getting tunnel vision. After they were done, he lay on top of her and looked upon her, while her eyes were closed as she panted to catch her breath. It was now or never. With one hand, he pressed it down firmly on her mouth, as the other hand reached for the knife he had put beneath the mattress. The woman's eyes shot open, and they caught the glint of silver approaching her neck. She tried to let out a wail of shock and fear.

This was Troy's favorite sound. He felt closer to his father every time he heard it. Is this what he heard when he was off on one of his escapades? was this how they felt when they realized what sort of monster they'd hopped into bed with? His father had more rudimentary methods, but Troy could not help but feel they were connected in that moment and in the elation of what was to come. The knife came to her neck and began to bite into her flesh.

She need him in the groin But didn't have the leverage to make it count for much She managed to roll onto the floor and gasp for air The choking having been effective in sapping her already low energy She started to crawl towards the door Letting out dry, raspy wails It was in vain This was the whisper room.

It lived up to its promise. No one came to her anguished whales for help as the blade penetrated her spine, her kidneys, and her lungs. Her body seized for a time and then was still and silent. Troy's heart raced and his blood ran hot. Her final screams would not be forgotten.

He decided to pose her body more elegantly than the others. It was then, as he began to pick her body up, that the blonde wig she'd been wearing fell off, revealing a head of plain, dull, dry. dry hair. He froze. The obvious thought that crossed his mind was quickly wiped away by his attempt to convince himself that it was just a coincidence. Rebecca was at work. This was some rather expensive whore from a distant town from a discrete website. He would turn this escort's body over and his worry would be unfounded. The sweat and blood had wiped away the makeup, revealing a plain, dull face. A coloured contact lens had fallen out during the struggle to reveal one plain, dull eye. If you could ever have convinced himself otherwise, it was made clear what he had just done. when one of her shoulder straps made weak from the attack snapped the faded tattoo of a butterfly

rested on her shoulder blade Troy immediately sobered up from his drug-induced haze he let out a cry that could have awakened the dead Rebecca did not wake nor did any of the neighbors in the adjoining rooms. No one ever heard the whales coming from the whisper room. The newspapers were wrong. This whore would be missed. When I was very little, I met my very best friend. I was quite the fearless little child, so I wasn't afraid of him. Though I don't think most little kids might have been. But I was a boy, and by my logic that meant I wasn't supposed to be scared of anything. Even if I was little, I was still a boy. I met him when I was five. I was at a park with my twin sister, Abbey. I just made my way down the slide. That was one of my favorite things.

feeling the wind in my face the thrill of the fall even if it were just a gradual slope that lasted two seconds at the very most I popped right back up after getting to the end and whirled around to run right back to the ladder that would again lead me to my second long thrill that was when I saw him he lingered in the shade of a tree at the edge of the park peeking out behind the trunk

everything my mother had told me about not talking to strangers flew out of the window as I turned to look at him hi my name's Tyler I'm five whole years old and I can count a fifteen all on my own I cheered giving a typical five-year-old's greeting something about being little you just want to be the biggest show of

off you can. He was very quiet. He didn't say a word in response to me, which to me at the time was pretty rude. Maybe he was just shy. Yes, that must have been it. I looked at the slide and then back to him. He was still there. In fact, he seemed to have come out a little more. I could see most of him Now, when before I'd only seen his head and his shoulder. Do you want to turn? I asked calmly. He didn't say anything, but he did respond with a very slight shake of his head. No, huh?

Well, that's your loss, I guess. I considered turning back to the slide. But that's when I had a great idea. I would ask this fellow to be my friend. Yes. Yes, that's just what I'd do. I didn't quite know why I wanted this man to be my friend, or why I felt so drawn to him.

Maybe it was that his skin, slimy looking from what I could see, was pitch black. Maybe it was that where his face should have been, there was just a smooth surface. No dips for eyes, not a bum. not a bump for a nose. A blank template is what I could best describe it as.

As for the rest of him, he didn't seem to be clothed. He didn't seem to have any genitalia, but I knew he couldn't be a girl. He didn't have those bumps on his chest that my mum and all the other moms seem to have. And his skin, just like that on his face, was smooth and slimy. Well, I lingered on that word. Do you want to be my friend?

He seemed excited by my question. He stepped out from behind the tree. He was nodding vigorously. Looking back on it, I'm fairly sure other kids would have either cried or pissed themselves. Most probably would have done both. But I didn't. I felt quite the opposite of either of those things. I just knew that me and this man

would be very good friends. My sister and I had always been very, very close. So, logically, I was thrilled to introduce the two. I beckoned my new friend to follow me with a wave of my hand, and I turned to run across the park to the swings. my sister's favorite spot. When I got there, though slightly out of breath, I spoke quickly. Abby, Abby, I want you to meet my new friend. Abby looked up at me. Where is he?

Right here, I exclaimed happily, turning around to face my friend. It was then I discovered he wasn't behind me like you should have been. She giggled. We're going to be in first grade soon, Tyler. You should know imaginary friends are for babies. I furrowed my brow. My friend certainly wasn't imaginary. But where could he have gone?

Ah, there he was. Back behind his tree. His head poking out had given him away to me. He must have somehow seen I was looking at him. as he raised one hand, shiny with slime, and waved at me. I waved back. I'm going to play with Abby now, okay. I'll see you next time, I guess.

I called to him. I don't know if he heard me, but I was pretty sure I saw him not. When I turned back to Abby, she simply rolled her eyes at me before giggling. come on let's go play rock on the wall i smiled and nodded yeah with one last look back i didn't see my friend anymore but i was sure he was still somewhere near and so satisfied with that feeling i went to go play with abby that night i saw him again he visited me while i was climbing into my bed My sister and I shared a room at the time, so I was very thrilled that he was there. Certainly she'd be able to see him now.

Abby! She rolled over so she could face me, and she brushed her blonde hair out of her face with a hand, red with sunburn. Yeah? Look, Abby, my friend's here. Say hi to him. I grinned. my cheer turned to confusion as she looked around the room clearly oblivious to my friend standing there Tyler she murmured her voice fairly heavy with sleep just go to bed but abbey too late now she'd already

rolled over I waited a moment giving her a few minutes to fall asleep Enough so that my talking wouldn't wake her. I turned to my friend and jumped a bit, finding him at the foot of my bed. Don't get to thinking wrong. I wasn't scared. I'm a boy after all. But I hadn't heard him move, nor had I felt him sit down. So, you could say, I was a little surprised.

That was well. He talked to me. He told me, if I wanted to, I could call him the dripping man, and that he wanted so badly to be my very best friend. I was puzzled at the name, but I managed to figure it out on my own. It must have been because he was so slimy. I told him that I'd stick to just calling him drippy, if he didn't mind. The dripping man just seemed too formal of a name.

for a little five-year-old me to call him. That name has stuck throughout the years. I then asked a question that I was sure would throw him off. Why couldn't my sister see him? He wasn't as stumped as I'd hoped and proceeded to explain how you had to be super special to hear him, even more special to see him. Since I was now his friend, I guess it made me pretty special, because I could do both of those things. I asked him a few more questions. Another little kid thing, I guess. Adults, unless really confused or just stupid, never asked that many. That night I certainly hadn't been expecting him, but I didn't mind him showing up either.

Little did I know that this was a good thing because he'd be showing up every night for a very, very long while. Skip a few years. My sister and I were now turning ten. Abby and I was still very close, and I relied on her a lot. She didn't seem to mind my clinginess. I also noticed that Though she was used to it, she seemed slightly annoyed whenever I brought up Drippy. That was another person I was still very close to. I was still very best friends with Drippy. I'd learned so many things about Drippy over the years. I learned that I'm not his only friend. He has many friends all over the world.

A lot of them were kids, but there were. some adults too. He just found the children so much easier to make friends with. So many friends in so many places. I couldn't help but feel like I wasn't so special to him anymore. But he ensured me, I was his favorite. That made me feel better. I also learned that some of his friends didn't even know they were his friends. In fact, some of them had never even seen him before. I was baffled as to how that worked, but I didn't question it. I trusted him, but I did want to know just how he kept in touch with these friends.

I learned these friends weren't special enough to see him, but they could hear him. If you've ever heard your name called out, but no one you could find was the source. Don't worry. If you've ever found something that wasn't where you left it. Don't worry. If you ever heard knocking on the walls or footsteps when no one was there. If you've ever seen a shadow in the corner of your eye.

But when you looked, it wasn't anywhere to be found. Don't worry. It was just Drippy. I also learned that Drippy was very close to me. He really did care. Whenever kids bullied me for still having an imaginary friend, I'd always get upset. Drippy made sure they'd leave me alone. And sure enough, I never had any more than just one run in with my long line of bully.

Abby bullied me too from time to time. Drippy didn't like that. He also didn't like how close I was to her. I think he was jealous. But I told him it was okay. She never meant it when she teased me. And he was still my very best friend. I think that worked. Lastly, and most importantly. And most Importantly, I learned you should never, never, ever make Drippy mad. Never. Because when Drippy is mad, he is very, very scary. I saw him mad once. He had just come to visit me, but he was furious.

And with his different mood, his appearance too. was different. His mouth seemed to have torn itself free of his slimy face, the top lip dripping and sticking to the bottom whenever he closed his mouth, causing him to have to rip it open again, a tearing noise as gruesome as the sight. His finger seemed knife-like and his arms never seemed to be the same size. Looking back on it, his whole body seemed to grow and lengthen at will. He looked so thin when he stretched out like that. You could even see the shape of his bones if he went out far enough.

And his screams. Oh God, his screams were more terrifying than the shrieks of a dying animal. All of this mixed with the sound of constant dripping. To calm him down, I had to hide a lot and shout from my hiding spot, telling him, begging him to please, please, please calm down, drippy. It's okay now. It took me almost half an hour to calm him down. But finally I did. I only had a scratch on my forearm to show for it. He pleaded for my forgiveness. He said it wasn't my fault. His, other friend had gone and broken his heart. He'd only come to me because he knew I'd calm him down. I was just that special, I guess. Truth be told, I was still shaking when I agreed to forgive him.

That was the first time I'd ever been scared of drippy. The first time I'd ever been scared at all. He promised me he'd never be mad. at me somehow I doubted it but for the next few years he stayed true to his word today drippy broke the promise he made to me six years ago he is very very upset with me my mom's on a business trip right now she left a week ago and won't be back for another three weeks. So, in the time she's been gone, I felt the need to be very close to Abby. Last night, Abby and I got into a fight. She accused me of being clingy, too clingy.

She demanded time to herself. She snapped and said she didn't want to be associated with some baby who still talked to himself. She said she didn't want me. to be so close to her. Go away. To leave her alone. To shut up and she... I think she made Drippy mad when she said those things. After the fight, I retreated to my room, sobbing.

I was always very emotional. The emotion I'd felt the least in my life shining out. Fear. First, I'd been scared of Drippy. Now I was scared my sister didn't want me. Little did I know how soon I would be scared again. I woke up this morning and I got up with an aching head. I was sure it was from the crime.

I staggered to my sister's room. I wanted to apologize to her, for everything I guess. I knocked on her door. She was an early bird and it was 9.30 in the morning so surely she'd be up. Oddly enough, she didn't respond. Maybe she was still mad. So, I opened the door slightly. Abbey?

I peeked inside and I wanted to throw up. Had I eaten before I would have. Before me, I saw. drippy, calm looking but surely furious before. He stood over a heap, a combination of soft, pale flesh, and splatters of crimson. Abby, I went to talk, my voice hitching in my throat, a soft squeak being the only noise to come from me. He whirled around to face me. He told me he did this for me.

As a wave of rage washed over me, my voice tore from my throat. Demon! I screamed at him. She was my sister. My sister! You just killed my sister! I hate you. I didn't want this!

I sobbed. turning away as I watched him twitch in anger. I rushed back down the hallway screaming as I went that I hated him. I hated him. Soon his screaming accompanied my sobbing. I slammed the door behind me. I locked it and I got my laptop. I need to write this.

I need to. I need to write this now. Because I want to warn you while I see. still have the time. Drippy is very mad at me. I strongly believe I'll be joining Abby soon, but I have one more thing to tell you. Please, be careful of Drippy. Please, if you see him, please be careful of my old friend. Let me start by saying that Peter Terry was addicted to heroin. We were friends in college

and continued to be after I graduated. Notice that I said, I. He dropped out after two years of barely cutting it. After I moved out of the dorms and into a small apartment, I didn't see Peter as much.

We would talk online every now and then. AIM was king in pre-Facebook years. then there was a period where he wasn't online for about five weeks straight. I wasn't worried. He was a pretty notorious flake and drug addict, so I assumed he just stopped caring. Then one night I saw him log on. Before I could initiate a conversation, he sent me a message.

David, man, we need to talk. That was when he told me about the no-end house. It got that name because no one had ever reached the final exit. The rules were pretty simple and cliche. Reach the final room of the building and you will win $500. There were nine rooms in all. The house was located outside the city, roughly four miles from my house.

Apparently, Peter had tried and failed. He was a heroin and, who knows what the fuck, addict. So I figured the drugs got the best of him, and he wigged out at a paper ghost or something. He told me it would be too much for anyone. but it was unnatural. I didn't believe him. I told him I would check it out the next night,

and no matter how hard he tried to convince me otherwise, $500 sounded too good to be true. I had to go. I set out the following night. When I arrived, I immediately, noticed something strange about the building. Have you ever seen or read something that shouldn't be scary? But for some reason, a chill crawls up your spine. Well, I walked toward the building and the feeling of uneasiness only intensified as I opened the front door. My heart slowed

and I let a relieved sigh Leave me as I entered The room looked like a normal hotel lobby Decorated for Halloween A sign was posted in place of a worker It read Room 1 this way Eight more to follow

Reach the end And you win I chuckled and made my way to the first door. The first area was almost laughable. The decor resembled the Halloween Isle of a Kmart, complete with sheet ghosts and animatronic zombies that gave a static growl when you passed by.

But the far end was an exit. It was the only door besides the one I entered through. I brushed through the fake spider webs, and headed for the second room. I was greeted by fog as I opened the door to room too. The room definitely up the ante in terms of technology. Not only was there a fog machine, but a bat hung from the ceiling and flew in a circle.

Scary. They seem to have a Halloween soundtrack that one would find in a 99-cent store on loop somewhere in the room. I didn't see a stereo, but I guess they must have used a PA system. I stepped over a few toy rats that wheeled around and walked with a puffed chest across to the next area. I reached the door knob,

and my heart sank to my knees. I did not want to open that door. A feeling of dread hit me so hard I could barely even think. Logic overtook me for a few terrified moments, and I shook it off and entered the next room. Room 3 is when things began to change. On the surface it looked like a normal room. There was a chair in the middle of the wood-panelled floor. A single lamp in the corner did a poor job of lighting the area,

casting a few shadows across the floor and walls. That was the problem. Shadows. Plural. With the exception of the chairs, there were others. I'd barely walked in the door and I was already terrified. It was at that moment that I knew something wasn't right. I didn't even think as I automatically tried to open the door I came through.

It was locked from the other side. That set me off. Was someone locking the doors as I progressed? There was no way. I would have heard them. Was it a mechanical lock? that said automatically. Maybe, but I was too scared to really think.

I turned back to the room and the shadows were gone. The chair shadow remained, but the others were gone. I slowly began to walk. I used to hallucinate when I was a kid, so I rode off the shadows as a figment of my imagination. imagination. I began to feel better as I made it to the halfway point of the room. I looked down as I took my steps. And that's when I saw it or didn't see it. My shadow wasn't there. I didn't have time to scream. I ran as fast as I could to the other door and flung myself without thinking into the room beyond. The fourth room was possibly the most disturbing. As I closed the door,

all light seemed to be sucked out and put back into the previous room. I stood there, surrounded by darkness, not able to move. I'm not afraid of the dark and never have been. But I was absolutely terrified. All sight had left me. I held my hand in front of my face, and if I didn't know what I was doing, I would never have been able to tell. Darkness doesn't describe it. I couldn't hear anything.

It was dead silence. When you're in a soundproof room, You can still hear yourself breathing. You can hear yourself being alive. I couldn't. I began to stumble forward after a few moments. My rapidly beating heart, the only thing I could feel. There was no door in sight.

Wasn't even sure if there was one this time. The silence was then broken by a low, hum. I felt something behind me. I spun around wildly but could barely even see my nose. I knew it was there though. Regardless of how dark it was, I knew something was there. The hum grew louder, closer. It seemed to surround me, but I knew whatever was causing the noise was in front of me inching closer. I took a step back. I had never felt that kind of fear. I can't really describe true fear. I wasn't even scared I was going to die. I was scared of what the alternative was. I was afraid of what this thing had in store for me.

Then the lights flashed for a second and I saw it. Nothing. I saw nothing. And I know I saw nothing there. The room was again plunged into darkness and the hum became a wild screech. I screamed in protest. I couldn't hear this goddamn sound for another minute. I ran backwards away from the noise and fumbled for the door handle.

I turned and fell into Room 5. Before I describe Room 5, you have to understand something. I am not a drug addict. I have had no history of drug abuse or any sort of psychosis short of the childhood hallucinations I mentioned earlier. and those were only when I was really tired or not just waking up. I entered no end house with a clear head. After falling in from the previous room, my view of room five was from my back, looking up at the ceiling.

What I saw didn't scare me. It simply surprised me. Trees had grown into the room and towered above my head. the ceiling in this room was taller than the others, which made me think I was in the centre of the house. I got up off the floor, dusted myself off, and took a look around. It was definitely the biggest room of them all. I couldn't even see the door from where I was. Various brush and trees must have blocked my line of sight from the exit.

Up to this point, I'd figured the rooms were going to get scarier, but this was paradise compared to the last thing. I also assumed whatever was in room for stayed back there. I was incredibly wrong. As I made my way deeper into the room, I began to hear what one would hear if they were in a forest, chirping bugs and the occasional flap of birds seemed to be my only company in this room. That was the thing that bothered me most. I heard the bugs and other animals, but I didn't see any of them.

I began to wonder how big this house was. From the outside, when I first walked up to it, it looked like a regular house. It was definitely on the bigger side, but this was almost a full forest in here. The canopy covered my view of the ceiling, but I assumed it was still there, however high it was. I couldn't see any walls either. The only way I knew I was still inside was that the floor matched the other rooms, the standard dark wood paneling.

walking, hoping that the next tree I passed would reveal the door. After a few moments of walking, I felt a mosquito fly onto my arm. I shook it off and kept going. A second later, I felt about ten more land on my skin at different places. I felt them crawl up and down my arms and legs and a few made their way across my face. I flailed wildly to get them all off, but they just kept crawling. I looked down and let out a muffled scream, more of a whimper to be honest. I didn't see a single bug. Not one bug was on me. But I could feel feel them crawl. I heard them fly by my face and sting my skin, but I couldn't see a single one. I dropped to the ground and began to roll wildly. I was desperate. I hated bugs,

especially ones I couldn't see or touch. But these bugs could touch me, and they were everywhere. I began to crawl. I had no idea where I was going. The entrance was still nowhere in sight, and I still hadn't even seen the exit. So I just crawled. My skin wriggling with the presence of those phantom bugs. After what seemed like hours, I found the door. I grabbed the nearest tree and propped myself up, mindlessly slapping my arms and legs to no avail. I tried to run, but I couldn't. My body was exhausted from crawling and dealing with whatever it was that was on me. I took a few shaky steps to the door, grabbing each tree on the way for support.

It was only a few feet away when I heard it. The low hum from before. It was coming from the next room, and it was deeper. I could almost feel it inside my body, like when you stand up next to an amp at a concert. The feeling of the bugs on me lessened as the hum grew louder. As I placed my hand on the doorknob, the bugs were completely gone,

but I couldn't bring myself to turn the knob. I knew that if I let go, the bugs would return and there was no way I would make it back to Room 4. I just stood there. My head pressed against the door marked 6 and my hand, shakily grasping the knob. The hum was so loud I couldn't even hear myself pretend to think.

There was nothing I could do but move on. Room six was next, and room six was hell. I closed the door behind me. My eyes held shut and my ears ringing. The hum was surrounding me. As the door clicked into place, the hum was gone. gone. I opened my eyes in surprise and the door I had shut was gone. It was just a wall now. I looked around in shot. The room was identical to room three. The same chair and lamp.

But with the correct amount of shadows this time, the only real difference was that there was no exit door, and the one I came in through was gone. Now, As I said before, I had no previous issues in terms of mental instability, but at that moment, I fell into what I now know was insanity. I didn't scream. I didn't make a sound. At first, I scratched softly. The wall was tough, but I knew the door was there somewhere. I just knew it was. I scratched at where the doorknob was. I clawed at the wall frantically with both hands, my nails being filed down to the skin against the wood.

I fell silently to my knees. The only sound in the room, the incessant scratching against the wall. I knew it was there. The door was there. I knew it was just there. I knew if I could just get past this wall. Are you all right?

I jumped off the ground and spun in one motion. I leaned against the wall behind me, and I saw what it was that spoke to me. To this day, I regret ever turning around. There was a little girl. She was wearing a soft, white, dress that went down to her ankles. She had long blonde hair to the middle of her back, and white skin and blue eyes. She was the most frightening thing I had ever seen. And I know that nothing in my life will ever be as unnerving as what I saw in her. While looking at her, I saw

something else. Where she stood I saw what looked like a man's body, only larger than normal and covered in hair. He was naked from head to toe, but his head was not human, and his toes were hooves. It wasn't the devil, but at that moment it might as well have been.

The form had the head of the head, a ram and the snout of a wolf. It was horrifying and it was synonymous with the little girl in front of me. They were the same form. I can't really describe it, but I saw them at the same time. They shared the same spot in that room, but it was like looking at two separate dimensions. When I saw the girl, I saw the form. And when I saw the form, I saw the girl. I couldn't speak. I could barely even see. My mind was revolting against what it was attempting to process. I'd been scared before in my life, and I'd never been more scared than when I was trapped in the fourth room. But that was before room six.

I just stood there staring at whatever it was that spoke to me. There was no exit. I was trapped here with it. And then it spoke again. David, you should have listened. When it spoke I heard the words of the little girl. But the other form spoke through my voice. spoke through my mind in a voice I won't attempt to describe.

There was no other sound. The voice just kept repeating that sentence over and over in my mind. And I agreed. I didn't know what to do. I was slipping into madness, yet couldn't take my eyes off what was in front of me. I dropped the floor. I thought I'd passed out, but the room wouldn't let me. I just wanted it to end. I was on my side, my eyes wide open in the form staring down at me.

Scurrying across the floor in front of me was one of the battery-powered rats from the second room. The house was toying with me. But for some reason, seeing that rat pulled my mind back. back from whatever depths it was headed, and I looked around the room. I was getting out of there. I was determined to get out of that house and live and never think about this place again. I knew this room was hell, and I wasn't ready to take up a residency. At first it was just my eyes that moved. I searched the walls for any kind of opening. The room wasn't that big, so it didn't take too long to soak up the entire layout.

The demon still taunted me, the voice growing louder as the form stayed rooted where it stood. I placed my hand on the floor, lifted myself up to all falls, and turned to scan the wall behind me. Then I saw something I couldn't believe. The form was now right at my point. back, whispering into my mind how I shouldn't have come. I felt its breath on the back of my neck, but I refused to turn around. A large rectangle was scratched into the wood, with a small dent chipped away in the centre of it. Right in front of my eyes, I saw the large seven I had mindlessly etched into the wall. I knew what it was. Room seven was just beyond that wall, where

room five was moments ago. I don't know how I'd done it. Maybe it was just my state of mind at the time, but I had created the door. I knew I had. In my madness, I had scratched into the wall what I needed the most, an exit to the next room. Room seven was close. I knew the demon was right behind me, But for some reason it couldn't touch me. I closed my eyes and placed both hands on the large seven in front of me. I pushed. I pushed as hard as I could. The demon was now screaming in my ear.

It told me I was never leaving. It told me that this was the end. But I wasn't going to die. I was going to live there in room six with it. I wasn't. I pushed and screamed at the top of my lungs. I knew I was going to push through the wall eventually. I clenched my eyes shut and screamed and the demon was gone.

I was left in silence. I turned around slowly and was greeted by the room as it was when I was. entered just a chair and a lamp I couldn't believe it but I didn't have time to dwell I turned back to the seven and jumped back slightly what I saw was a door it wasn't the one I'd scratched in but a regular door with a large seven on it my whole body was shaking it It took me a while to turn the knob. I just stood there for a while, staring at the door. I couldn't stay in room six.

I couldn't. But if this was only room six, I couldn't imagine what seven had in store. I must have stood there for an hour, just staring at the seven. Finally, with a deep breath, I twisted the knob and opened the door to room seven. I stumbled through the door mentally exhausted and physically weak. The door behind me closed and I realised where I was. I was outside. Not outside like room five, but actually outside.

My eyes stung. I wanted to cry. I fell to my knees and I tried, but I couldn't. I was finally out of that hell. I didn't even care about the prize that was promised. I turned and saw that the door I just went through was the entrance. I walked to my car and drove home, thinking of how nice a shower sounded. As I pulled up to my house, I felt.

felt uneasy. The joy of leaving No End house had faded, and dread was slowly building in my stomach. I shook it off as residual from the house and made my way to the front door. I entered and immediately went up to my room. There, on my bed, was my cat, Baskerville. He was the first living thing I had seen all night, and I reached to pet him. He hissed and swiped at my hand. I recoiled in shock, as he had never acted like that. I thought, whatever, he's an old cat. I jumped in the shower and got ready for what I was expecting to be a sleepless night. After my shower, I went to the kitchen to make something to eat. I descended the stairs and turned into the floor. I turned into the family room. What I saw would be forever burned into my mind, however. My parents were lying

on the ground, naked and covered in blood. They were mutilated to near unidentifiable states. Their limbs were removed and placed next to their bodies, and their heads were placed on their chests facing me. The most unsettling part was their expressions. They were smiling, as though they were happy to see me. I vomited and sobbed there in the family room. I didn't know what had happened. They didn't even live with me at the time. I was a mess. Then I saw it. A door that was a Never there before. A door with a large eight scrawled on it in blood.

I was still in the house. I was standing in my family room but I was in room seven. The faces of my parents smiled wider as I realised this. They weren't my parents. They couldn't be, but they looked exactly like them.

The door marked eight was across the room, behind the mutilated bodies in front of them. I knew I had to move on. But at that moment, I gave up. The smiling faces tore into my mind. They grounded me where I stood. I vomited again and nearly collapsed. Then the hum returned.

It was louder than ever and it filled the house and shook the walls. The hum compelled me to walk. I began to walk slowly, making my way closer to the door and the bodies. I could barely stand, let alone walk. And the closer I got to my parents, the closer I came to suicide. The walls, when they were shaking so hard it seemed as though they were going to crumble. But still, the faces smiled at me. As I inch closer, their eyes followed me. I was now between the two bodies a few feet away from the door. The dismembered hands clawed their way across the carpet towards me,

all while the faces continued to stare. A new terror washed over me, and I walked faster. I didn't want to hear them speak. I didn't want the voices to match those of my parents. They began to open their mouths, and the hands were inches from my feet. In a dash of desperation, I lunged toward the door, threw it open, and slammed it behind me. Room 8. I was done. After what I just experienced, I knew there wasn't anything else this fucking house could throw at me

that I couldn't live through. There was nothing short of the fires of hell that I wasn't ready for. Unfortunately, I underestimated the abilities of no end house. Unfortunately, things got more disturbing, more terrifying,

and more unspeakable in room, 8, I still have trouble believing what I saw in room 8. Again, the room was a carbon copy of rooms 3 and 6, but sitting in the usually empty chair was a man. After a few seconds of disbelief, my mind finally accepted the fact that the man sitting in the chair was me. Not someone who looked like me. It was David Williams. I walked closer. I had to get a better look even though I was sure of it. He looked up at me and I noticed tears in his eyes. Please, please, don't do it. Please don't have hurt me.

What? I asked. Who are you? I'm not going to hurt you. Yes, you are. He was sobbing there. and you're going to hurt me but I don't want you to. He sat in the chair with his legs up and began rocking back and forth. He was actually pretty pathetic looking, especially since he was me, identical in every way. Listen, who are you? I was now only a few feet from my doppelgain. It was the weirdest experience yet.

there talking to myself. I wasn't scared, but I would be soon. Who are you? You're going to hurt me. You're going to hurt me. If you want to leave, you're going to hurt me. Why are you saying this? Just calm down all right. Let's try and figure this... And then I saw it. The David sitting down was wearing the same clothes as me, except for a small red patch on his shirt embroidered with the number nine. You're going to hurt me, you're going to hurt me. Please, you're going to hurt me, please don't. My eyes didn't leave that small number on his chest. I knew exactly what it was. The first few doors were plain and simple, but after a while they got a

a little bit more ambiguous. Seven was scratched into the wall, but by my own hands. Eight was marked in blood above the bodies of my parents. But nine, this number was on a person, a living person. Worse still, it was on a person that looked exactly like me. David? I had to ask. Yes. You're going to help me. You're going to help me. He continued to sob and rock.

He answered to David. He was me right down to the voice. But that nine, I paced around for a few minutes while he sobbed in his chair. The room had no door. and similarly to room 6, the door I came through was gone. For some reason I assumed that scratching would get me nowhere this time. I studied the walls and floor around the chair, sticking my head underneath and seeing if anything was below.

Unfortunately, there was. Below the chair was a knife. Attached was a tag that read to David from management. The feeling in my stomach as I read that tag was something sinister. I wanted to throw up and the last thing I wanted to do was remove that knife from under the chair. The other David was still sobbing uncontrollably. My mind was spinning into an attic of unanswerable questions. who put this here and how did they get my name?

Not to mention the fact that as I knelt on the cold wood floor, I also sat in the chair, sobbing in protest of being hurt myself. It was all too much to process. The house and the management had been playing with me this whole time. My thoughts, for some reason, turned to Peter, and whether or not he got this far. If he did, if he met a Peter Terry

sobbing in this very chair, rocking back and forth, I shook those thoughts out of my head. They didn't matter. I took the knife from under the chair and, immediately, the other David went quiet. David.

He said in my voice, What do you think you're going to do? I lifted myself from the ground and clenched the knife in my hand. I'm going to get out of here. David was still sitting in the chair, though he was very calm now. He looked up at me with a slight grin. I couldn't tell if he was going to laugh or strangle me. Slowly, he got up from the chair and stood.

facing me. It was uncanny. His height and even the way he stood matched mine. I felt the rubber hilted the knife in my hand and gripped it tighter. I don't know what I was planning on doing with it, but I had a feeling I was going to need it. Now, his voice was slightly deeper than my own. I'm going to hurt you. I'm going to hurt you. I'm going to hurt you when I'm going to keep you here. I didn't respond. I just lunged and tackled him to the ground. I'd mounted him and looked down,

knife poised and ready. He looked up at me, terrified. It was like I was looking in a mirror. Then the hum returned, low and distant, though I still feel. felt it deep in my body. David looked up at me as I looked down at myself. The hum was getting louder and I felt something inside me snap. With one motion I slammed the knife into the patch

on his chest and ripped down. Blackness fell on the room and I was falling. The darkness around me was like nothing I had experienced up to that point. Room 4 was dark, but it didn't come close to what was completely engulfing me. I wasn't even sure if I was falling after a while. I felt weightless, covered in dark. Then a deep sadness came over me. I felt lost, depressed, and suicidal. The side of my parents entered my mind. I knew it wasn't real, but I'd seen it, and the mind has trouble differentiating between what is real and what isn't. The sadness only deepened.

I was in room nine for what seemed like days. The final room. And that's exactly what it was. The end. No end house had an end, and I had reached it. At that moment I gave up. I knew I would be in that in-between state forever, accompanied by nothing but darkness. Not even the hum was there to keep me sane.

I had lost all senses. I couldn't feel myself. I couldn't hear anything. I searched for a taste in my mouth and found nothing. I felt disembodied and completely lost. I knew where I was. This was hell. Room 9 was hell.

Then it happened. A light. One of those stereotypical lights at the end of the tunnel. I felt ground come up from below me, and I was standing. After a moment or two of gathering my thoughts and senses, I slowly walked toward that light. As I approached the light, it took form. It was a vertical slit down the side of an unmarked door. I slowly walked through the door and found myself back where I started.

the lobby of no-end house. It was exactly how I left it, still empty, still decorated with the childish Halloween decorations. After everything that had happened that night, I was still wary of where I was. After a few moments of normalcy, I looked around the place trying to find anything different. On the desk was a plain white envelope with my name hand-written on it. Immensely curious, yet still cautious. I mustered up the courage to open the envelope. Inside was a letter, again handwritten.

David Williams, Congratulations, you have made it to the end of no end house. friend has. Please accept this prize as a token of great achievement. Yours forever. Management. With the letter, the five one hundred dollar bills. I couldn't stop laughing. I laughed for what seemed like hours. I laughed as I walked out to my car and laughed as I drove home. I laughed as I pulled into my drive-law. I laughed as I opened my front door to my house, and I laughed

as I saw the small ten etched into the wood. And so once again, we reached 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.