Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S2 Ep79: Episode 79: Ouija Board Horror Stories

Episode Date: April 27, 2022

We begin this evening’s adventures with ‘Hello Alice’ - an original story by Black Friday’s Witch 13:  https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/72nktq/hello_alice/  Next up we have ���My Ouija Board Experience in Salem, MA’, an original story by Slaytanic 667:  https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/5uwvo0/my_ouija_board_experience_in_salem_ma  Our penultimate tale of terror is ‘Read this before Using a Ouija Board’ by Gholdist:  https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/4ftpr6/read_this_before_using_a_ouija_board We round off this fine evening with ‘Never Use Cheat Codes on a Ouija Board’ by Christopher Maxim:  https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/7jupz2/never_use_cheat_codes_on_a_ouija_board  https://www.facebook.com/ChristopherMaximWriter

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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. For someone who read so many fantastical stories, it may surprise you to know that I'm not particularly convinced as to the existence of the afterlife, ghosts, the supernatural and so on. Another thing I don't particularly have much faith in is Ouija boards. Nevertheless, it is quite surprising that this is a subject that none of my videos have touched on in the past, so I thought it was well overdue that I did cover this subject. Hence tonight's video.

Three stories for you this evening, all based around the Ouija board. So guess what? It's Friday, the weekend's coming, so you all just sit back and relax with your favorite drink. Because I've got some stories to tell you, and they go something like this. In my hometown, there is a unique shop of oddities called Hexworks that I frequent from time to time. It's an old world boutique that specialises in niche products that I'd describe as being vintage style with a modern spin. Their items include cloaks, pocket watches, lapels, bizarre art prints, lavish jewelry, Victorian home decor, among other curiosities. Let's just say it's a great place to visit if you're ever putting together a steampunk cosplay.

Hexworks is, without a doubt, my friend. favourite place to window shop, but I rarely leave with anything. The prices are high, rightfully so, and though I love the selection, I can't really say I need anything they have to offer. It would be different if I were a convention-goer or financially stable enough to justify such luxury purchases, but alas, I am neither. Instead, I relax in the shop's tranquil atmosphere and drum up business for them whenever I get the chance to talk about the place. It's a mutually beneficial relationship. One day, however, a new product arrived at the hex,

one that I couldn't help but gush over. There, sitting on an easel behind the store's front window, was a large, handmade, one-of-a-kind Ouija board. The woodwork was beautiful, and the text was striking. It was crafted so elegantly that I couldn't help but be captivated by it. I had to know where it came from

and how much it was going for. Curious as ever, I made my way into the shop, walked right up to the owner, and inquired about the board's origins. He told me it was a new piece sent to the shop by a friend of a friend who inherited it from a relative. It was an heirloom

that had been in the person's family for many years, passed down from generation to generation. Too spooked by the board to continue the tradition, the man had donated it to Hexworks. The more the owner and I talked about it, the more I wanted the board for myself. I was never big on the occult or the paranormal, but it was too beautiful a piece to pass up. It was something I wanted for no other reason than to say I owned it. It would be a conversation starter, and an item I would proudly show off to my friends and family. The downside? The owner wanted $500 for it.

After much private deliberation and further conversation with the owner, we came to an agreement. He would put the Ouija board aside for me, and I would make weekly payments. until it was paid off. He even offered me a slight friends and family discount for being a regular at the shop. After all, was said and done,

I would be paying $432. I was still a hefty price stack, but I was grateful for the compromise and gladly agreed to the conditions. A grueling, nine weeks later, I was the proud of of my very own spirit board. It came in an equally well-crafted wooden chest, upon which the

word Ouija was etched, along with what was, presumably, the year it was made, 1913. Upon opening it at home, I noticed a few extras that came with it. Inside the chest, alongside the board, was an ivory planchette, an empty picture frame, and a small, faded, pamphlet titled User Manual. The pamphlet's contents consisted of diagrams and instructions over-explaining the use of the board. It more or less boiled down to place your hands on the planchette and wait for it to move. What I found peculiar was a section towards the back of the manual with a heading that read cheat sheet. It went, some of the book. It went, some of the book, Something like this.

Want a simpler way to see your loved ones in the afterlife. Fear not. We have just the solution. Introducing the Ouija board cheat sheet. With this easy to follow guys, you'll be able to see those bereaved from you and know that they're okay. Simply follow these instructions.

Place the frame included in your kit directly in front of the board in an upright position. Choose one of the following 29 character sequences and place your planchette over the letters and numbers accordingly. The year in which your chosen loved one was born is represented by the four question marks at the start of the sequence. The year in which they passed is represented by the four question marks at the end. Be sure to visualize the person in your mind as you move.

the planchette across the board. If done correctly, a still image of your loved one should appear within the frame. However briefly, disclaimer. This is not a precise science, and results may vary. Each string of characters works differently depending on the person, the time of day, and the area in which you are located relative to the spirit realm. If one sequence doesn't work, fret not you can always try another and please bear in mind this is a one-way window your loved one will not be able to communicate with you when their image surfaces any attempt to speak with them will be met with silence enjoy I chuckled at what was clearly an attempt at humor by the maker of the board distasteful perhaps but it was

certainly comical. Imagine that. Entering a code into a Ouija board and receiving a snapshot from the other side. How ridiculous. Still, something about the Ouija board cheatsheet erked me. Was the picture frame's only purpose to accompany the joke? Shouldn't the manual have clarified this a little further? And who exactly was the joke meant for anyway? The board was one of a kind, more than likely commissioned by its original owner. Was such a beautifully crafted piece really meant to be nothing more than a gag gift? Having a gag myself, I set the thing up, frame and all. Whether it was out of boredom or a desire to prove to myself that the cheat sheet really was a load of malarkey,

I decided to follow the instructions to a tea. I grabbed a beer, chose a character sequence, and record the birth and death dates of my favorite family pet scratches. All dogs go to heaven, right? After placing the planchette over the corresponding characters, I looked up at the frame. Behind the glass, I swear, I saw a milky, white fog manifest. No image, just cloudy particles dancing about like dust brushed off an old book. To make sure I wasn't seeing things, I repeated the process, and to my surprise, it happened again and again. With each subsequent use, the smoky substance grew invisibility.

It was still faint, but entirely noticeable. Several theories swam around my brain. many of which sunk into the abyss of my collective thoughts. One, however, kept coming up for air. It was silly, but I kept considering the possibility that, maybe, just maybe, the cheat sheet was legitimate. Crazy, I know, but the prospects of having a truly supernatural artifact were exciting. Even if there was a rational explanation of what I'd seen,

I was at least going to have some fun playing around with the thing. And so, I took off. I called up my parents and collected the dates of various relatives who had passed away. I told them that I was doing that ancestry.com thing to learn more about my heritage. Deceptive, yes. But they wouldn't have been so understanding if I told them I was dabbling in the dark arts. After gathering the information I needed, I reclaimed my self. seat in front of the board.

I'd had a few more beers by this point, so my motor skills were not exactly in perfect working order. Because of this, I fucked up the first sequence. Using my great Aunt Linda's birth and death years, I entered the code precisely except for the O. I accidentally placed the ploshet over the O in the Ouija logo at the top of the board. What happened next? was surprising. I noticed my mistake and expected the frame to remain dormant, but this was

not the case. To my astonishment, a clear image came into focus behind the glass. What I saw was the outline of a structure sewn into a white, foggy backdrop, and as quickly as it came, the image faded out of view, leaving me baffled. What was I? seeing exactly? A building in the afterlife? Is that where buildings went upon being demolished? Or was that the next world, industrialized, much like Earth? Fascinated by the idea of having a peek into heaven's inner workings, I fudged up some more sequences. I plugged in random years, past, present and future, and made up my own codes. There was no rhyme or reason to my methods. I was basically punching in random combinations just to see what would happen.

I was rewarded with little results. Only a couple of my codes worked, and the images that they came about were too blurry to make out any discernible features. Despite mostly failing in my endeavors, I kept at it. Sequence after sequence, I continued to move the planchette around the wood. I grew tired, but my curing. curiosity far outweighed my eyelids. Towards the wee hours of early morning, I struck gold. One of my made-up codes worked, giving me a proper glimpse into what comes after. As clear as day, I saw a bustling street filled with what I assume were souls of the departed. In addition to

people, there were cars, buildings, and traffic signs. like of which I'd never seen. It was similar to earth scenery, but significantly different. Surrounded by a flood of light and white fog, the landscape felt altogether more peaceful, for lack of a better description. It's something I look forward to being a part of, in the distant future, of course.

I was satisfied with my find, but I couldn't stop there. Using different variations of the same sequence, I pressed on. To my delight, I was greeted with more and more images of the afterlife, all of which bore great clarity, allowing me to see even the finest of details. Here are some of the things I saw. Sky-scrapers, far taller than their earthly counterparts, transparent bridges connecting various parts of the heavenly community bio-luminousant trees and wildlife mostly scattered about but they did find one large forest glimmering pools of water around every corner and strange weather patterns every now and again i'd see clouds but they were always changing color from image to image with every thing

sequence, I'd find something new and unusual on the other side. I was an explorer of sorts, discovering vast sections of land in uncharted territory. This was now my hobby of choice. Unfortunately for me, it was one that wouldn't last. In an attempt to take things a bit further. I grabbed a camera, a pencil, and paper. I would record my findings and write down points of interest. I was more or less setting out to make a map of heaven. It would be a tough project, but one I would most certainly enjoy. Now, by this point, it was around 8 o'clock in the morning. I'd been at it for nine hours straight, and I was more than ready to take a break and catch them shut-eye. I decided it would be best to start my cartography project after a quick nap, but I wanted to try one

more sequence before going to bed. I made up another variation of the jackpot code and entered it into the Ouija boards. I then watched with baited breath as the familiar white particles came together, like puzzle pieces to form another heavenly landscape. Oh, the anticipation was torture. I felt like an addict, biding my time as I waited for the heroin to take effect. I might have been a little obsessed, but at least the way I got my kicks was harmless. Or so I thought. Just as I was about to receive my fix, something.

strange happens. The pieces of the image swirled around at high speed before revealing a blank, dark background. White letters then faded into view, creating a very clear image. Stop! Perplexed, I tried another sequence, then in another and another. Each time I was greeted with the same word. I even tried older codes that I knew but to no avail. For a whole hour I tried and I tried, begging the board to work again, to restore its supernatural properties. Eventually, I got one code to work, but not in the way I'd hoped. Upon using the code, old images resurfaced, cycling backwards like slides on a projector. In every one of them, something was amiss. It was distant at first, but as the

frame cycled through the images, it came closer to the foreground. It appeared to be some sort of shadowy figure, pitch black and faceless, like a black cloak suspended in the shape of a person. Within a few moments, things took a turn for the worst. The darkness stayed, but the scenery changed, from the afterlife to this life. I saw still frames of my family and friends here on earth. The shadowy figure always looming behind them, I helplessly watched as it creeped up on them, inching closer and closer to contact. I was horrified.

Before the figure could reach out and touch one of my loved ones, the slideshow ceased. For a moment, the frame was empty, void of the horrors that once danced behind its glass. I was granted a breather, but not for long. After a moment or two, one last image filled the frame. It was me, sitting in front of the wee-jerkers. board, just as I was then. I might as well have been staring at a reflection. Standing directly behind me, however, was the shadowy figure.

It reached down and touched the back of my neck. I felt its cold fingers slide across my skin. Breaking free of my initial shock, I jumped up and ran for the door. I left my house, tired and terrified. I didn't return until the following day. After everything that's happened, I can only guess that I pissed off some angelic being upstairs by poking around its home.

I saw things I never should have been able to see and overstayed my welcome, breaking some sort of divine law in the process. I've since disposed of the board, but my experience has stayed with me. I'm always looking over my shoulder and constantly checking on my family and friends to make sure they're okay. So far, so good. Though I'm alive, I can't help but feel I'm closer to death than I've ever been. Yesterday I almost walked into oncoming traffic.

a passerby had to pull me back. This morning, I felt the elevator at my work wobble a bit, and I swear it was about to fall. Maybe it's paranoia. Maybe I'm just shaken over what I saw and felt. No matter what's going on, I'm going to play it safe from here on else. Moral of the story,

don't fuck around with the wiseries. each of all. Think about your health for a second. Are your eyes the first thing that come to mind? Probably not. But our eyes go through a lot, from squinting at screens to driving at night. That's why regular eye exams matter.

And at Specsavers, they come with an OCT 3D eye health scan, which helps optometrists detect conditions at early stages. We believe OCT scans are so important, they're included with every standard eye exam. Book an eye exam at Spexavers.cavers.cavers.caps are provided by independent optometrist. Visit specksavers.ca to learn more. Michael and I had been pen pales since we were in the eighth grade. It had been one of those exchange programs for my history class

to learn about different cultures. We drew names out of a paper bag, and I got the country of Ireland and a name with an address. It was his full name, address, and age. Fourteen years old, Dublin, Ireland. I was a girl and I was slightly disappointed because I had these grandiose dreams of friending a girl overseas that I could visit from my desert home in Tucson, Arizona. The idea of a boy instead of a girl was made less annoying when Michael seemed genuinely interested in responding back. Unlike my best pal Kate, whose pen pal had only ridden once to say she lived in Iceland and was attending her third year at university,

Michael was my age and very engaging. He and I kept on exchanging snail mail letters well into college and even in later adulthood. We'd both kept up the letters because we found it sort of romantic in the day and age of smartphones. It kept things simple and not to mention it was fun

getting postcards and letters on funny stationery. We talked about our lives mostly and tended to keep things in a positive light. Very rarely did we discuss negative things going on in our lives. We did manage to exchange photos of ourselves and our families. However, we never got the chance to meet in person. That was part of the mystery. It gave our lives excitement in a weird way. I looked forward to his letters and he always seemed to look forward to mine. We always kept in touch and kept each other up to date on the many things that were going on in our lives. When he got married,

he sent me a postcard from France. When I finally got married, he sent me a bottle of wine from Italy with a lovely postcard attached. We had gotten closer through our writing, and I guess we were a little more than penpounds. I considered Michael, my friend. Michael's letters always started the same way. Hello Alice. I received a letter from Michael every two weeks, like clockwork. Then, one day, I stopped receiving his letters. I felt inside that something must be wrong.

Maybe he was having trouble with his wife, or there was something going on with his family. I reasoned that things must have just gotten busy for him, as things often did in real life. I didn't give it too much thought when two months went by and still nothing. My husband, Larry, had assured me that all was well, and he probably just had a lot of personal stuff going on. Then one afternoon, something strange happened.

I was working from home with the house all to myself, and as I was typing something on my laptop, the doorbell rang. I peaked out of the window and saw a UPS guy standing there with a package. I opened the door, signed the slip and went inside my house to open the large rectangle package. What an earth could this be? I looked down at the address and you can see it had Michael's last name and the address was Michael's. I thought it's strange at first since it wasn't like there was any special again. occasion. I grinned eagerly, wondering what my friend had sent me. I opened the box,

and inside was another box with a card attached to it. It was not in Michael's handwriting, and immediately my grin turned to a curious concern. I opened the card, which was in a pink envelope, and very uncharacteristic of Michael. Dear Alice, I'm very sorry to have to relay this message to you so late. But two months ago, my husband Michael, died of cancer. Please forgive him for not continuing the correspondence once he found out he was ill. The pancreatic cancer hit him quite quickly, and before we all knew it, my wonderful husband and father to my two children was gone.

This is a parting gift that my husband wanted you to have, and to be honest, I am glad to be getting rid of it. I was never one for spirit boards. Your sincerely, Myra. I sat in stunned silence with my hand over my mouth, and then the tears began. I didn't even really know Michael in the same way I knew my other friends. We'd never even talked over the phone, Skyped,

or at the very least sent a text in the 32 years we've been penpal. yet I still felt the sting of loss. I grabbed a tissue, wiping my eyes and then opened the box. Inside was a blue hand-painted Ouija board. It was painted dark blue with glitter to resemble the night sky. There was a sun in the upper left corner and a moon in the right corner. But the bottom centre was the word goodbye. There were the usual letters and numbers of it.

Other than the card that his wife Myra sent, there was little explanation as to why Michael wanted me to have it. I sat it aside and called my husband, relaying the message and the odd gift from Myra. Larry was genuinely sorry to hear that Michael had passed away. He had become such a large part of our lives in a way. I sent Myra a thank you and my condolences. I was heartbroken over the loss of my friendship.

Some time passed, and I had forgotten about the spirit board that Myra had sent me. It got put into the top of my closet and forgotten for a year or so. Then, one October evening, I had a girl's night with my friends Ronda and Chelsea. Larry was out playing cards with some buddies of his, so we had the house to ourselves. We'd been drinking wine, talking about Rondas and Chelsea's kids all getting ready for college, and how crazy it was that our college days only seemed like yesterday. Chelsea relayed a funny story about the night she and her friends from college had played with an old Ouija board. She'd played with some friends who got so freaked out because there had been a little bit of a little bit of a little bit of her.

an actual electrical outage after messing with the bolt. Hmm, wege aboard, you say. I have one. We should get it out, I said, laughing, nearly spilling my red wine over. Say it isn't so, Chelsea asked excitedly. Oh, Lord, here we go, you two. I don't think I want to stick around for this. Not to mention I'm too old for this nonsense.

Oh, shut up, you old stick in the mud. Alice, go get your board. Chelsea laughed, pouring another glass of cabinet. I went to my closet and got the box down that Myra had sent me. I set it up on the living room floor, and we all sat around it like we were in junior high, instead of forty-something-year-old women. Um, should we say a prayer or something?

asked Rhonda. Yeah, I'd light a candle, said Chelsea, pulling out her lighter from her cigarette back. Okay, my old stud, I guess, I giggled. Dear God, protect us from demons and Rhonda. I cracked up, clearly feeling the effects of the red wine. All three of us placed her hands on the planchette and tried to concentrate. I could feel it moving, but I could swear it was Chelsea. We just stared at each other, cracking up.

Shouldn't one of you ask a question? asked Rhonda. Oh, yeah. What do you want to know? What is the name of the spirit? Asked Chelsea, trying to whisper. The planchette did not budge. We all looked at each other dead silent.

Then we heard the front door open And then slam shut. We jumped up from our spots on the floor. Oh, it turned out it was just Larry coming home from his poker game. Jeez, that scared the piss out of me, giggled Chelsea. Oh, yeah, I think it's time I got home, said Rhonda. And with that, they left. And I packed up the Ouija board, placing it under the couch,

and then following Larry up to bed. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. The next morning, I awoke to someone touching my shoulder. I figured it was Larry, and I smiled. Not now, you goof. When he didn't retort or make any other movements, I slowly opened my eyes. There was no one in the room with me.

Surely Larry hadn't made a breakaway that quickly. I got up, put on my robe, and made my way down to the kitchen to get coffee. There was a note from Larry. Made coffee. Have a good workday from home. Larry frequently left letters, but I knew that there was no way that Larry had touched me and then gotten out of the house that quickly. I chalked it up to being half asleep and thought no more of it.

Later that day I was buried in work. and not paying any attention to anything around me when the doorbell rang who would be dropping by at this time of day everyone i knew was at work and i wasn't expecting any visitors i went to the door and opened it there was no one there i looked around and peeked out but still there were no signs of anyone around i shut the door this time making sure it was locked and went back to my work. By three o'clock I'd gotten a craving for some crackers with cheese and something to drink. I often worked all day forgetting to bother eating. As I made my way into the kitchen, I tripped over a box that was sticking out from under the couch. I looked down and there was the box with a Ouija board in it. I stopped for a second and then I pulled it out. I opened the box and sat on my couch.

I placed the board on my lap and smiled. It was the last thing my friend had given me. I don't believe in these things, but this is a very beautiful piece of art. I said out loud, as though anyone at all could hear. I laughed myself, placing my hands on the planchette, trying to concentrate. I figured, what the hell?

I tried to see if anything would happen. I felt the strangest sensation caused through my hands. It was like a mild shock of electricity pulling me in the direction of the letters. I looked down at my hands, which were now shaking. This strange contraption

wanted to be used. I was also fearful after hearing so many scary stories about Ouija ball. I wasn't sure if I was hallucinating, but my hands held on to the planchette, as it went eagerly to the letter H, then the letter E,

then the letter L, I could literally feel the loss of control. I was not moving this damn thing on my own. It wasn't registering at first, because it took shortcuts for spelling out the first word. It didn't make sense in my mind, till it began again, spelling out slowly each letter one by one, so I could understand it. There was an intelligence behind it, and even though I was scared and my hands were shaking, I was excited at the prospects of this being real. Who could be behind this? A real ghost, maybe. Was I just imagining this? The pull of the planchette as it moved only excited me. I looked down and disbelief, fear, excitement, and then sadness all seemed to hit me at once.

Tears fell down my cheeks as I read out what it was spelling to me. Hello, Alice. So, let me start off by saying, after using Ouija boards over the years, it's not a good idea to use one. If you do, take extreme caution, because they can be very dangerous. This is my story, nothing dangerous but very creepy. I was living in Salem, Massachusetts a few years ago. and although I do believe in ghosts 100%. I was still a skeptic on Ouija boards and wicker,

interested but skeptical. I've lived in Massachusetts my whole life, relatively close to Salem, so I figured it was all tourist trap stuff, and it doesn't really work and blah, blah, blah. So, it was a Friday, and I got my paycheck, and was going to the store to get some beer. I passed the hex shop every day,

but on this day I decided to go in. I poke around for a couple of minutes and decided to get some rocks that were supposed to be lucky. I'm a poker player and a slight gambler, so I thought, I'd try it out. So anyway, I get my beer, and I thought I'd get a scratch ticket too. Bam, $500. Cash it.

Got another scratch ticket. Hit another $500. Then one more ticket that hits for $100. My mind was blown. I didn't even think about the rocks until I got home and found them. I told my girlfriend about it, and she couldn't believe it either. Anyway, a week goes by and I've barely touched the... money so i thought i go spend some i figured Salem is a very old town and a lot of historical

shit happened there so i might as well try a Ouija board because in my mind the rocks worked so why wouldn't this i go back into the hex shop and i look around again and come across a handmade hand-painted beautiful weegeeboard blessed by the witch you'd make It cost almost $200, but hey, go big or go home. So I went home with the Ouija board. My apartment was small, a tiny studio apartment that cost an arm and a leg. We were on the second floor, right in the centre of Salem. Almost every night there was a fight going on upstairs.

a guy and his girlfriend screaming and throwing shit around to the point where I almost caught the police multiple times. I never once went up to talk to them. In fact, in the year I lived there, I never went up to the third floor. Other than that, the neighbours weren't too bad. So, anyway, I had to day off one day, and my girl was at work, so I thought I'd try the board. It wasn't too long into the session when I started talking to a man named Roy I was amazed that this was working I asked him simple questions at first

do you know where we are S-A-L-E-M he replied Do you know my name M-I-K-E answered Rouse away again now I'm thrilled and creeped out at the same time how many spirits in this building for he said who is always fighting upstairs no answer who lives in the room above us n o b o d

Why, I broke out in a cold sweat, feeling uneasy for the first time in this whole conversation with Roy. I asked, who do I hear fighting all the time up there? After half a minute, I get a reply. G-E-T-O-U-T-O-U-T-E-T-O-U-T-E-T. I instantly jumped the planchette goodbye and I put the thing away. I went out for some air and then my girlfriend came home from work. I told her about what had happened and she didn't believe. I told her the same story I'm telling you now.

After dinner, we were watching TV and of course we hear the screaming and smashing sounds from upstairs again. I look at her and I say, you know what? You're right, there's got to be people up there. So we go upstairs. When you go through the doorway from the stairs, the apartment is directly to the right. The door is cracked open. Empty space, an empty room. I'm baffled. My mind is going in circle. I look back inside and then back at my girlfriend. Then I look down. The door mat says,

Get out. Okay guys, so I know recently Psychics, Ouija boards, ghost hunting and anything paranormal really has gained a lot of mainstream popularity. Although I completely understand the curiosity that comes with breaking into abandoned places to hunt for ghosts or do Ouija boards with your friends in the middle of the night. Take it from me.

This shit is not to be taken lightly. During July of 2011, my friends and I decided to go on a camping trip in Vancouver, British Columbia, during our final summer break before senior year. We stayed at Garibaldi Provincial Park because my friends aunt lived about 20 minutes away in case we needed it. We're not really experienced when it comes to the outdoors, being high school kids in the suburbs of Mississaigua,

so this convinced my parents to let me go. About a week before we left, one of my friends, Daniel, brought up that he had found his grandmother's old Ouija board in his attic. When he was living in Ecuador, he had always been told to steer him. clear of it. But after she had passed away, he'd completely forgotten about it. Obviously, being the ignorant, rebellious 17-year-olds that we were, we decided to take it with us. None of us really believed in it, aside from Daniel, who was told stories by his grandmother as a child. But even then, he was curious to see if they were really true. So, the week finally.

passed by and we left for our trip. We safely arrived at my friend's aunt's house and gathered everything we needed to spend the night in the forest. The day passed by pretty quickly and mostly consisted of us putting up the tent and setting up our campsite. Once the sun went down, we decided to light a fire and roast hot dogs. Just when we were about to pass out from exhaustion. Daniel brought up the Ouija board and there was no way we were going to leave without doing it. Just as a little side note, this was not one of those plastic Hasbro boards, you can find at your nearby Toys R Us. This was about 50 or 60 years old, from a small town in Ecuador, probably made by Satan himself by the looks of it. I'm not sure how well the manufactured ones work.

But just to be safe, I'd avoid those at all costs as well. So, the five of us huddled around a circle alongside the dying fire. Daniel said a prayer of some sort in Spanish before we started, and to be honest, I'd nearly shit myself, because I thought he was possessed already. Then he explained to me that his grandmother told him to pray beforehand to avoid evil spirits. Still not knowing what we were doing, we figured the best way to begin was to ask a question. So, everyone put two fingers on a leaf we found on the ground to use as a planchette, since Daniel said he couldn't find the original.

We then decided to ask some super, stupid questions like how small is Daniel's dick. Naturally, we didn't get a response and just figured the whole Ouija board thing was a hoax. Then, we decided to ask the most basic question. Is anybody there? Suddenly, our arms started to move the leaf, spelling out the name, Voile. I, of course, freaked the fuck out. as did my friend Celine, whose aunt was the one living nearby.

Let me tell you, at that point we should have stopped. But hey, it actually worked. So why not finish the seance at the meagre price of a week of sleepless nights, some wet pants, oh, and your soul? We continue to ask questions, mainly about Vois, and his background from which we didn't get much more than, agriculture est in agri every time we asked anything related to the demon after a few failed attempts at getting to know our company we decided to steer the questions back to us sitting

across from me Patrick asked which one of us won't graduate jokingly our hands spelled out Daniel and Celine we all laughed since Daniel was one of the smartest people people I know. And Celine's mother would ship her to a boarding school in a heartbeat if there was even the slightest inkling of suspicion that her youngest daughter wasn't attending university. We then asked a few more questions about our personal lives and decided to call it a night. We said our goodbyes and went inside the tents. But around 4 a.m. that night, I woke up for some unknown reason. I was about to roll over to the night. my side and fall back asleep when my friend Kara, whom I was sharing the tent with, asked why I was

breathing so heavily. I wasn't. We stayed up for the rest of the night trying to figure out the source of the noise, too afraid to check outside. I suggested that it was probably some animal, but she swore she felt the breath down her neck. The following morning, we asked the others about it, and nobody said they'd heard anything. So we just brushed it off as a too vivid nightmare. And, after packing up all our stuff, made our way back to Celine's aunt's house. The rest of the summer passed by uneventfully, and by the time the school year started, we'd almost forgotten about that night.

As the weeks rolled on, Daniel became pretty distant from all of us. We'd been talking less and less throughout the summer. but I figured he was trying to make the most of his then full-time job in order to save money for university. However, it got worse during the school year, and I then thought, maybe he's just stressing about homework and extracurriculars. I tried reaching out to him once in a while, but he never asked to his phone. When I saw him at school, he looked as if he hadn't eaten or slept since the cold walk. And then, one night, I got a phone call from Clough.

She was late for picking me up, because the highway had been closed, and driving by Daniel's house, she'd noticed two police cars parked outside. We drove by his house later that night, but the cars were gone, and, of course, he didn't answer his phone. So, we figured we'd just corner him at school the following day, and asked him. what had happened. However, he didn't show up the next morning, and neither did Celine. It wasn't until that evening that I found out what had happened. Daniel had stabbed Celine 17 times and dumped her body in a river near the school, and shortly after jumped off a bridge onto a highway, dying after being hit by a car. When they found Celine's body, she had to be a little bit of the

body she had the words agricola est in agri engraved down her left arm it took me a few months to finally realize that's what the demon meant when he said they wouldn't graduate

and so once again 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.