Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S3 Ep132: Episode 132: I Worked the Worst Jobs in the World

Episode Date: July 20, 2023

Our opening tale of retail terror is ''I’m An Employee of a Major Retail Chain, Last Month I Was Bitten By A Karen'' by Nerd Core Creep, shared on the Creepypasta wiki and read here under the conditions of the CC-BY-SA license. https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/I%27m_An_Employee_Of_A_Major_Retail_Chain,_Last_Month_I_Was_Bitten_By_A_Karen https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/User:NerdxCorexCreep Next up we have''I Work at a Family Entertainment Centre, and I’m Pretty Sure the Ball-Pit Is Bottomless'' by Christian Wallis, also shared on the Creepypasta wiki and read here under the conditions of the CC-BY-SA license. https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/I_Work_at_a_Family_Entertainment_Centre,_and_I%E2%80%99m_Pretty_Sure_the_Ball-Pit_Is_Bottomless https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/User:ChristianWallis Our third tale takes us to the hospital with ''I Work in a Facility for Long-Term Coma Patients'' by Dapper Kitty, once more shared on the Creepypasta wiki and read here under the conditions of the CC-BY-SA license. https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/I_Work_in_a_Facility_for_Long-Term_Coma_Patients https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/User:DapperKitty  Today’s fourth  offering is ''I Work the Nightshift: This is How I Kill Time'', an original story by Crone Johnson, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all. https://www.reddit.com/user/Crone_Johnson/ Tonight’s next tale of terror is ‘The Craigslist Job Gone Wrong’ by Joshua Brooks 2018, kindly shared with me via the Creepypasta Wiki and read here under the conditions of the CC-BY-SA license. https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/User:JoshuaBrooks2018   We continue proceedings with ‘My First One Star Review on AirBnB’ by shawk11, shared with my via NoSleep and read here with the author’s kind permission. r/nosleep/comments/6v1k1y/my_first_one_star_review_on_airbnb  Tonight’s final horrifying tale of therapy gone wrong is ''I’m a Psychotherapist Who Specializes in Unlocking Repressed Memories'' by the wonderfully talented Grotesque Penguin, again kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all: https://www.reddit.com/user/Grotesque-penguin/

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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. Never continue in a job you don't enjoy. If you're happy in what you're doing, you'll like yourself. You'll have inner peace, and if you have that, along with physical health, you'll have had more success than you could possibly have imagined. But getting your job you like isn't always that easy,

as we're about to see in tonight's Five Tales of Terror. 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. That sounds like your kind of thing. Then let's begin. I'm an employee of a major retail chain. Last month, I was bitten by a carer. When I first started my job at my local retail store, I thought it'd just be a temporary source of income.

Unfortunately, days turned to months, turned to years. Today, I'm a manager, but still stuck here, droning on. day to day dealing with less than favourable co-workers, other members of management, and worst of all, customers. You've all heard the stories and I can tell you they're all really true and equally horrifying. I've had to clean up dirty baby diapers out of shopping carts, answer questions about departments I was not at all familiar with and dealt with unruly customers of all ages, races and genders. I can tell you right here and now.

I'd rather clean up a hundred dirty diapers by hand than deal with what's known as a carrot. My latest experience with a Karen on the clock ended with my arm in this crazy bitch's mouth. Seriously, this 50-year-old soccer mum sunk her teeth right into my arm. Why would a person do this, you ask? I suppose it's best to start way back at the beginning. I won't reveal the name of my store. To do so publicly would jeopardize my employment. Whilst that might sound like a good thing, I can assure you my problems would only increase.

These people don't mess around, and if they knew that I was to mention them by name, I'd face serious legal ramifications. That being said, I got my first job with the retail giant, which I will henceforth refer to as save-marked, in my local area when I was 19 years old. I'd attempted college before that, and ended up unfortunately dropping out after my first year. so I found myself desperate for any kind of income as my dreams of being a theatre star were dashed. After about a week of waiting and biting my nails,

I finally got a call back for an interview. I was interviewed by an eccentric fellow named George, whom I got the impression was a fun guy to hang out with on the weekends, even though he was a 40-year-old father. The interview was great, and I was hired almost immediately. I was only hired to be a temporary associate as the store itself was expanding, and they needed their help for a simple 7 a.m. to 3 p.m. Monday to Friday scheduled.

Well, if I'm being honest, I love my job those first six months. The work was simple, the pay was decent, and my co-workers, other attempts around my age, were pretty cool. It was during this time that I met my best friend Bill, a gaming nerd that I connected with on a spiritual level. As time went on, the enjoyment I got from my job diminished, and as my temporary employment was near its end, my future became uncertain. That was very well liked among my fellow associates, and had no problems with management,

so I was 90% sure I'd be hired on full-time once the temp work had finished. That confidence, however, was thrown into question the day before the decision of my employment status, when I encountered my first Karen. As I stated before, I was hired to be a temporary associate tasked with helping to accept. expand the store. This means I didn't really interact with the public directly, and if someone had a question for me, I could simply direct them to the appropriate associate for that particular department. This experience, however, caught me completely off guard. I was stocking some action figures in the toy department when I suddenly heard the sound of a throat being cleared. Neeling,

I looked up to see a rather large woman in a yellow sundress holding two Barbie dogs. Can I help you? I asked, knowing very well that I couldn't help her as this wasn't my primary department, and I knew next to nothing about Barbie dolls, but we were trained to always say that line. Can you explain to me while there were so many of these coloured dolls with the Barbies? She slayed in a slightly irritated and irritating tongue. I took another look at the dolls and noticed that one was African-American and another was Hispanic, both Barbie brand, mind you, but not the classic Caucasian version this woman was used to. Well, I myself am a mix of African-American and Mexican blood,

so I dreaded having this conversation. Is there a problem? I responded, trying my best to keep cool. Yes, there is a problem, smart ass, she answered, hoarding at the doll's higher as if I couldn't see them. Barbie's a classic American brand that's meant to show the beauty of the average American girl. Where are the blonde hair and white skin? Barbie is not brown, so I want to know why these things are here. I couldn't believe that she just said that.

I scoffed and replied with, Excuse me? Well, the tone of my voice gained some bass, and I could see the shit-eating grin slightly form in the corner of her mouth. Was this lady serious right now? I took a breath and tried to de-escalate the situation. I'm sorry, ma'am, but if we're out of stock of the specific type of doll you're looking for, you'd have to talk to this department's manager.

She responded by rolling her eyes. No. There are plenty of proper Barbies in stock, she said. The problem is there should be more instead of these non-barbeys. She then threw the dolls on the floor and got right in my face. Now get me your damn manager boy. I could feel my jaw clench and my hands form into fists. I was dangerously close to knocking this racist old bitch to the floor, but luckily my direct manager, Jim, stepped in.

Hey Mike, why don't you go take your break? He said, I'll take care of our valued customer here. Valueed customer? Was he serious? It took me a minute, but I realized he was merely trying to de-escalate as I'd failed to. As I walked away, I looked back and I could see Karen yelling at Jim. Who was miraculously keeping his call? It wasn't really surprising as he'd been with the company for years,

so he surely knew how to deal with people like this. Next day, Jim gave me my final job performance review and brought up the incident from the day before. Look, Mike, he began. I know that must have been an extremely uncomfortable situation for you yesterday, and you have my sincerest apologies, but here it saved my way have very strict policies

concerning our customers. Well, my stress level began to rise quickly. I was going to lose my job over this? Well, that being said, he continues. You've been an exceptional associate, and to my knowledge, this was the first and only incident regarding a customer from you. So as long as we can have an understanding that the customer is always right,

on behalf of Save Mart, I would like to extend a full-time employment opportunity to you. I gave out a big sigh of relief. Oh, man, I said, thanks, Jim. Thanks so much. What should have been a great day? The start of a full-time job that would help me stay financially stable until I moved on to something better will be the last good feeling I'd have about Save Mart. for the next ten years.

I was hired to be a cart collector. You know, those guys you see in the parking lots of all those retail stores that collect all the carts and bring them back inside. Yeah, that was me. And it's not a fun job. I would say honestly, it's the worst job I'd experienced thus far.

I was outside in the elements on the hottest summer days and the coldest winter nights. The parking lot was huge, so I had a lot of ground to cover. I had to make sure all the carts were in, before I was allowed to clock out. If there were a certain number of cuts outside

while I was on the clock, I'd hear an earful. Despite all of that, the worst part of this job was that I had to interact directly with the public. Needless to say, I dealt with many Carons over the following ten years.

I thought things were changing for the better when last month I was finally promoted to department manager in electronics, which was a goal that had eluded me the entire time. As it would turn out, having a managerial role in retail makes you the prime target for the most vicious

Karen's ever. The most dreaded words for me from day one were, Department Manager Mike, you're needed for customer assistance. Well, this happened on day one. I hoped I'd get lucky and it was a reasonable 20-year-old

with questions about which gaming console he should purchase, but in my gut I knew better. When I arrived, I nearly threw up. It was her. the old racist Karen from nearly ten years ago. She was in a very heated argument with one of the electronics associates, Kenny.

Keeping in mind that we were in the middle of a pandemic, here was this massive 50-year-old woman right in Kenny's face. She was wearing no mask, of course, because she's a Karen, and spirit was flying all over his face. All employees are required to wear masks, but a shocking number of people don't seem to understand how they were. wearing masks do not protect you from potential infection they meant to keep your germs to yourself so kenny was freaking out to make matters worse carron looked like absolute shit compared to the

first time i'd seen her i almost didn't recognize her with her once blonde now gray caron cut blotchy-looking skin and tired-looking eyes the only reason i knew it was her was because of her stress-inducing voice and demeanor that i had not forgotten even after all of the these years. With years worth of experience in my brain, I'd hope that this time around I'd be able to de-escalate this conflict much more successfully than our previous encounter. Swallowing my pride, I said the words, Hey, Kenny, why do you go take a break and I'll take care of our valued customer? I nearly threw up as I said this.

Whatever, man, he responded. Rude little shit. Well, I'd deal with him later, but for now, I had to slay our monster. as Kenny walked away I forced a smile and turned my attention to Karen How can I help you, ma'am? Don't you ma'am me, boy, she responded and I could feel my eye twitch as she said this. I see this joke of a story

still hiring stupid little shits like you. Clearly she remembered me as well. What do you need, ma'am? I said, getting more irritated. I don't need a damn thing from you, she responded. Just get me a damn. manager. And now a shit-eating grin formed in my mouth. "'Ma'am,' I said, taking a satisfied breath,

"'I am the manager.' The smuggle look formed on my face as the look of shock and bafflement formed on hers. "'Oh, you have got to be joking,' she said in a nasty tone. So not only will they hire any monkey off the street, now they're making your management too, "'no wonder this star has gone of shit.' Well, that was the line. straw.

Ma'am, you're going to have to leave, I said, completely discarding my fake, helpful manager voice. She merely stood there and crossed her arms. Well, my patience was now gone. Get out of my store, I demanded, completely done with taking her shit. She then took a step forward and shoved me to the floor. Why don't you make me, boy? The police were called shortly after, a mayor-ire to his scy.

got her out of the store. Surprisingly, she fought the police. She struggled and thrashed around like a wild animal, but before they were able to slap the cuffs on her, she'd broken free and tackled me to the floor. This 50-year-old woman flattened me like a quarterback, knocking the wind right out of my lungs. She then proceeded to scream like a cycle, which she slapped and clawed at me like a bear. I covered my face from my arms, at which point she grabbed my left arm and bit right into it. "'Oh, shit!' I screamed as the officers were finally able to restrain her. I was immediately rushed to the hospital. She'd taken a huge chunk right out of me, and I needed stitches to close up the wound.

Oh, hell of her first day as manager right. Well, things didn't end there. That would not be the last time I'd see her. Later that night, I was having a beer with Bill and George, and after they left, there was a knock at the door. I thought maybe one of them had left something behind, so I walked to the front door and looked through the peephole, verifying that it was Bill. He looked hot, though. He was looking down, and I initially thought he must have been drunk, which was unlike him to get darned near the single beer. As I opened the door, I realized something was very wrong. He was standing there, his head still down, but I realized someone was standing behind it.

Suddenly the person standing behind shoved him right at me. His body was limp as he crashed into mine and we both went down. I screamed when I realized there was a knife sticking out of his back. I rolled him off of me and looked up to see his killer. It was her. It was Karen. Not only was she not in jail but she'd somehow tracked me down. What the hell is happening here, I thought.

She walked toward me, a blank look on her sickly looking face. Terrified, I crawled back away from her. She stopped when she got to Bill's lifeless body, stepping on his back as she yanked the knife right out of him. She never broke her line of sight from me as she did this. As she held the knife once again, she continued to advance toward me. What the hell do you want? I asked. Panic making my voice crack.

I need to see the manager. measure, she answered, a voice raspy and demonic sounding. That same shit-eating grin from all those years ago formed once more, and then eventually expanded into an evil-looking smile. Finally managed to get to my feet, but before I was able to run away, she'd swung her knife, slashing me across the back. I screamed in pain as I took off running towards the stairs, leading to the second floor. I ran as fast as I could and realized she was chasing me,

damn near matching my speed. They had to panic even more as I heard her bloodthirsty scream of rage as she charged towards me but I managed to make it up the stairs to my bedroom and slam the door shut before she got to me. I locked it and backed away.

She pounded away on it, creating a loud and terrifying boom with each strike. I would have called 911 to report the psychopath trying to kill me but I realized that I'd left my phone downstairs. She kept screaming. me and screaming with every slam you have a customer in need of assistance she screamed followed by an insane cackle soon i began to hear the sounds of cracking she was going to break through the door i began to lose my

shit and was desperately trying to figure out what to do i looked all around the room to find something anything to defend myself with and i noticed the window i could climb out but there'd be nowhere to go I couldn't get down without jumping or dropping down and breaking something. I decided to open the window and quietly hide under my bed. I dab my hand on my back where the knife wound was and wipe some blood on the curtain and ledge to make it look like I climbed out. Eventually, she managed to break through the door, and I could see her pink jogging pants and running shoes slowly walk into the roof. I covered my mouth so as not to be heard by her and watched her as she took steps toward the wind. her and silently I slid from under the bed and slowly approached her from behind it was at

that moment and I had a choice to me I could get out of there and risk her catching up to me or I could end this right now feeling anxiety over the situation and a desire for vengeance for Bill I charged right at her but she turned around quickly slamming her massive fist right into my face as I fell to the floor once again she mounted me and slammed the knife right into my left shoulder. I screamed in pain as she ripped it right back out and tried to do it again. Luckily I grabbed a hold of her arm with both of my own, desperately trying to keep her from driving the knife into me again.

As we wrestled, I managed to manipulate the position of the knife until the blade was facing her, and I drove it right into her throat. Just like that, she stopped fighting, I kicked her off of me. But somehow she managed to get back to her feet. And with a hateful look in her eyes, she poured the knife right out of her neck, gripping it once again as blood shot out of the wound. In a last ditch effort, I charged her once again, this time shoving her massive frame right out of the window.

She stuck the knife in my back as I used all of my strength to get it out. As she tumbled down, I could hear her shriek like a beast one final time. The screen was cut short as I heard a loud thud. I put my head out of the wind and saw her large, lifeless body. And she laid their face up, a look of horror on her face as her dead eyes stared right at. I, once again, paid a visit to the emergency room, receiving even more stitches. Unfortunately, Save Mart has shit medical insurance, so I was going to take a financial hit for this. On the bright side, though, I would never have to deal with this.

psychotic woman ever again. Unfortunately, she was only a single problem in a much wider issue. You may have noticed an increased number of Karen incidents, much more than ever. Unfortunately, my local save-mark seems to be a breeding place for them, as more and more of them show up daily, or nearly as insane as the one who tried to kill me, the name of whom I will not disclose as it would blink back to my employers, which would not bode well for me. It's back to I was not allowed to take paid medical leave, even with all my injuries and mental trauma of seeing Bill's dead body. But now I have to deal with this regularly. I wonder, did I die and go to hell? And is this my punishment?

Trust me, if I could leave, I would. But there are issues which I won't go into right now that prevent me from doing so. Well, that's a story for another day, but right now I have to get back to work. This was my lunch break. But now it's being a bit. cut short as I've been called to another customer assistance issue in electronics. This is goddamn ridiculous and unacceptable. I have half a mind to call corporate and demand to speak with the president of the company. Wish me luck. I work at a family entertainment center and I'm pretty sure the ball pit is bottomless. I mean I've worked at this place for as long as I can remember and it's pretty weird and even harder to describe. Which usual family fund indoor park,

guess. There's a million of them all over the place and they all have different names. We have a shitty little cafe that overcharges for stale hot dogs and then a buttload of warehouse space filled with random crap to keep kids entertained. There's a jungle gym, an arcade with ancient games, a greasy bowling alley, and obviously there's a ballpins. Honestly, it's a pretty cool job, although it has taught me that kids in general are super weird. I remember this one time a random kid came up to me and handed me some marbles and then just started laughing. It took me a few minutes to get it out of him, but he told that he'd shoved the marbles up his butt, and now I was touching his butt marbles.

And he just thought it was the funniest goddamn thing anyone's ever done, ever. Now, we have a high turnover rate, that's for sure. We chew through new employees like popcorn, and I think it's because kids have this weird ability to hone in on anyone they make uncomfortable and just thrive off the awkwardness. At least teachers and parents get to deal with one set of kids right. They get to know them over time and sure those kids will occasionally explode or have prolonged periods of being crazy, high in energy.

But for the most part, the parents and teachers are there to manage the kids. But that's the exact opposite of what we do. We're here to manage the centre, not the kids. Every kid is meant to blow off steam here, and that's why the parents bring them. That's why they pay the entry, We can't make these kids sit down or write lines, we can't threaten or go door shouts.

What we have is a revolving door of kids who are permanently siked out, and we're just meant to keep them occupied for long enough that their parents can smoke a joint around the back or cry in the toilets where no one can see them break down. I've got to say, it's tough. I only stuck it out because I'm in management, and that means my job is to get a bunch of teenagers to do all the dirty work. I had nobody at Enron had to brush vomit out of indesium. crying nine-year-old's hair. Still, I limit my exposure to the kids, and for a damn good reason.

They scare the shit out of them. For one thing, there's always the wrong number. This place is always full no matter how many tickets we sell. Most people don't even stay here long enough to notice, but I have. I spend a few years now counting tickets and then heads, and I know for a fact that there are rainy days in the middle of the coldest winters when we sell ten, maybe twenty tickets at but no matter what the floor is crawling with kids another thing kids go into the ball pit and don't come out nobody complains nobody's reported missing but i know for a fact that not only do some kids never come back out but some kids that do come out never went in in the first place yeah i already know what you're thinking i'm nuts but i once trialled a photo day just to confirm my suspicions i took

picks of the kids and parents coming and going. I said it was for a competition. I swear to God, I have dozens of photos of parents coming in with one kid and leaving with a totally different one. I thought about trying to empty the ball pit to see if there's anywhere they could go, like a tunnel I never knew about. Well, I did try to empty it once. It was years ago, and I wanted to clean it properly, so I waited after hours and started scooping balls out and dumping them into empty bins, but after a while I got scared and stopped. Something about the experience just freaked me out. It's like the more balls I pulled out, the quieter everything got.

Like the whole place started to anticipate something. All those weird cartoon characters painted onto the wall with freaky eyes that follow you around the room. A zombie shooter arcade machines that make those stupid fake goul noises. The twisty airplane rocket that rocks kids back and forth while blasting obnoxious music. It all kind of faded out. It was like the whole place was holding its bread. My head started to throb like the world's worst hangover, and my mouth started tasting all coppery, and it made me want a wretch.

It freaked me out. I stopped and just tipped the balls back in. As soon as I did, the pressure in my head released, and the place was full of noise again, like nothing had ever changed. Now I just cleaned the board pit out with one of those nets they used for swimming. swimming ports. There's always the weirdest stuff in there. Dead mice, crushed insects, dog shit, random goo. What I can only describe as a series of gifts or messed up experiments. I don't know where they come from, but a week hasn't gone past where I haven't had to fish out some half-dead,

tortured animal from the depths of the pit. If I'm lucky, the animal dies as soon as I pull it out, but I keep a spare pillowcase around here just in case. I don't know how humane it is to stuffed into a sack and smashed against an alley wall, but I know it has to be more humane than keeping them alive. I used to think the kids dragged roadkill in there, but after I started paying a little more attention, I noticed things like badly suited wounds stitched together with a random thread, or even half-heeled amputations. I don't think it's even possible for a kid to pull off a successful trippening on a squirrel and keeping the thing alive, half-paralyzed at the bottom of the ballpits. It just doesn't make sense. But I keep finding them, half-stuffing.

big bugs. Eyesides cut off, Jesus Christ, the worst one didn't even have any cuts. I still don't know who did it or how. I don't know how the ball got inside the rat. He was still alive, but no scars or open wounds, but it was just like it had swallowed a whole damn ball. It wasn't crying or making any noise. It was just shivering, alive and in shock at what happened to it. The pain must have been overwhelming. All of its organs crushed, its bones pushed out of Sockets. Just looking at it made me want to hurt. It was the most unnatural thing I've ever seen. That's just another reason why I couldn't ask anyone else to do this job. I think most people come and go so quickly, they never realize just how weird it is. I'd rather no one start asking

questions. And I think if I was braver, I'd try to dig a little deeper and encourage others to help me. But no one else has seen the weirdness up close like I have. And I guess my conclusion is this. If we don't know what's down there, why bother it? It's clearly best just to leave it alone. That's why I'm glad we have a high turnover rate. People get super weird if they stick around too long. I've moved a few people on because they started to go a bit loopy. First, we see paranoia settling in. First we see paranoia setting in. They start looking at you funny. Well, the kids, I mean, the kids I get, but me, what's wrong with you? What's wrong with you? with me. Second, we see them starting to fixate on the ballpins. People who stay too long

obsess over it. When you're not looking, they'll sneak over and try and jam a broomstick into the bottom. When they can't find it, they'll start freaking out, talking about foundations and floor plans. Finally, the worst ones will start trying to go over my head to speak to corporate. They go nuts, asking questions and ringing numbers and just bugging me over and over. If you're not careful, they can actually become quite threatening. You wouldn't think it, but people really get wound up about this kind of stuff. One girl I had to call the cops on. She developed a real unhealthy interest in me.

She even asked me where I lived. She wanted to know where I slept, and ate, and who my parents were. Even after I fired her, she kept coming back. Even tried to burn the place down. I think this place messes of people's minds, because she started talking about how the number to HQ just went to my office. My driver's license was fake, and my clothes had someone else's name sold into them.

Where did I even go at night? Where did I sleep? Where was my car? She even revealed that one night she camped outside the building and waited for me like some goddamn stalker. When I confronted her about it, she had no defence. She was completely gone over the edge, talking about how the old manager went missing years ago

and I was wearing his uniform and no one had ever seen me outside the centre. I'm glad she's gone now because she made me really uncomfortable with that paranoid rambling. I still don't know what she was implying. Honestly, just listening to her gave me a really bad headache with the copery taste. I still wonder what happened to her. But she's a good example of why we should just leave this thing alone,

because, sure enough, the next week I found myself fishing one of her shoes out of the ballpins. I think what was weirdest about it was that it wasn't covered in blood or anything like that. Just had a small note asking me, personally. for help. Oh, she was so troubled. I tried to tell her to stop, tried to give her some clue. When I'd fired her, just before the stalking started, she started asking me all these questions about how long I'd been working here, and whether I'd seen the bottom of the ball pit. And I kept trying to tell her, I've been here for as long as I can remember, and I'm pretty sure

the ball pit is bottom. Well, now she can be sure about that, too. I work in her physical for long-term coma patient began like most other nights at the Lorette nursing home the sound of my footsteps filled the stark empty hallway as I did my rounds I heard the orderlies refer to this area as the vegetable patch and their characterization wasn't too far off what may not be public knowledge is that coma patients oftentimes get sent to long-term care facilities such as this regardless of age if they don't have any life-threatening medical conditions or hope of waking up for that matter i gladly passed the rooms with my gold inside as i neared his suite my feet picked up their pace i entered bill water's room and found

his wife yet again at his side i admired this woman greatly for her devotion to bill after nine long years she was still his doting wife seeing her almost daily really touched my heart this man must have been something special. Recently I built a rapport with this woman and I look forward to seeing her kind face more than I can't to admit. This made what I plan for Bill much more difficult to keep a secret. You know, visiting hours are over, Mrs. Waters, I said with a warm smile. She paused before responding. He's in there, you know. I'm sure he is, I replied. No, I mean it. I can just sense his presence. And you've been with someone as long as we've been together. You just know. I wouldn't come down here if... The tears streamed down her face. I was mesmerized by how she

hadn't let go, but he was still very much a part of her. I found myself gravitating towards him more so than the other sleepers. In fact, I developed a kind of obsession with him. His wife's affection for her comatose husband was contagious. I'd already decided that I was going to try something unorthodox with Bill. As a matter of fact, it was to begin the following day from my conversation with Martha that evening. anxiety filled me with restless dreams that night and remained with me the following day. You see, I had big plans for Bill. I've been under the same suspicion as his wife for quite some time. Even though he'd been declared a vegetable by my colleagues, there was just something about his magnanimous face that screamed otherwise. On a lark, I'd already hooked him up

to an fMRI and had seen some startling results. His brain activity was alive and manic. Though I was incredulous at first, it also seemed to indicate that he was capable of responding to my voice and answering simple questions on a strictly neurological level. Played this close to my chest and had not revealed this to anyone for two reasons. First, I guess you'd call this the noble one. I wanted to be a hundred percent certain that he was, in fact, still cognizant before filling his long-suffering wife with any false hope. Second, I guess the narcissistic reason. As a neuroscientist at heart, I'd stumbled across something potentially earth-shattering. I really wanted to impress the medical community and the public at large with what I was planning. Our facility had an FMRI machine,

which I'd nearly unfettered access to at night. So with Bill placed in the tube, I told him to think about a warm summer breeze. I checked the scans and told him to think about it again. The results were astonishingly similar. I spoke clearly and articulately that this means yes, that if he wants to answer yes to a question, he has to think of that breeze. Do you understand? A flurry of brain activity followed,

not indicating the results I was looking for. Listen, Bill, I really need you to focus. Think of a warm summer breeze. This means yes. Do you understand? The thought pattern of. appeared once more and a smile cracked across my face. Now I want you to think about a bucket of ice water.

I want you to imagine plunging your hand inside. I want you to really feel the cold bill. The screen shows something wholly dissimilar to the previous command. Think about it again. Same results. This is no. I had him practiced yes and no for a while. He caught on with astonishing speed.

When I was satisfied with his ability to respond, I finally asked, is your name Bill Waters? The results indicated yes, and an even larger smile beam from my face. Do you have a wife? Yes. Do you have children? No. I was very concerned that I was going to receive another yes result.

When I saw the neurological pattern emerge, my elation and admiration for this man grew tenfold. And then, I asked a question I'd been dreading. Are you in pain? Yes. My heart sank. The activity that I was seeing indicated this.

I couldn't even begin to comprehend the existential anguish he was experiencing, let alone the excruciating physical pain. A little piece of me died right there in that room. This only strengthened my determination to help this man any way I could. Do you know why you're here? Yes. You're in a care facility in Roshosha, Wisconsin. Is that correct?

No. I tried again. Simplifying the question. Are you in a care facility? No. A confusion set in. I surmised that I was admiring his progress so much that I failed to realize a strain I was putting on him.

I backed off for that day and kept my findings to myself. He was in no danger of going anywhere, and there were many more tests to run before I could make this stunning revelation public. In my bed that evening I came up with an ambitious course of action. This was going to take a lot of time and effort, but I was confident I could get results. The next day I revealed my plan to Bill. With my knowledge of neurological signatures, I came up with 26 distinct thought patterns that would be easy to distinguish in fMRI results. The letter A is jumping into a pile of sand.

be he's rubbing your fingers on a brillo pad and so on. Each one would represent a letter of the alphabet. This is going to be a long and painstaking process that's going to require a lot of patience. Did you want to continue? Yes. So with time and care we began to work on learning the alphabet. Progress was more rapid than I ever could have imagined.

Bill was an excellent student. I will never ever forget when he nailed down the letter I, I believe it was thinking about your barefoot entering a leather shoe, where his brain lit up like a live wire. This is what he was telling me over and over again. High, high, high, high, high, high, high, high, high, high, high, high. My heart exploded with jubilation. I never could imagine that someone simply communicating high to me

would fill me with such raw emotion. Strangely, in that moment I felt closer to Bill than I had ever felt to another human being. And tears welled up in my eyes. Well, hi Bill. The next day I placed him in the tube again. This is the first thing he said to me. Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi. His excitement was palpable.

I was touched yet again. However, we were so close to completing the alphabet, I firmly stated that we needed to focus. I taught him to concentrate on the task at hand. We continued our work that week and made significant progress. I went to bed that Monday with a smile on my face and an unparalleled feeling of contentment and accomplishment. All this would all come crashing down the following day. So, Bill, let's talk. Hi, hi, hi, oh God, hell, hi, hi, hi.

Hi, Bill, now concentrate for a second. What's your name? I waited patiently as Bill's brain went to work. God, hell. Great job, Bill. Right, what's your wife's name? Hi, I... Help.

Excellent. Okay, so, um, where are you now? In hell? My heart skipped a beat. I double-checked the results. That's what it translated to. No, you're in a long-term care facility. You're in a coma.

Do you understand? The image I'd picked for Elle was driving on a Sunday afternoon through the country. To think that such a placid image could be imparting such an unsettling message sent shivers up and down my spine. I left the room briefly to calm my nerves and also to give Bill a break. As I returned, I could see Bill was still talking. Say me so hot. I help.

Please calm down. I stammered. You were in a hospital. You're fine, I'm here. It'll be okay. No, hell, forever in hell. For the first time in a while I was feeling helpless. Bill's brain activity was crushing my heart. With all of the hard work and time we'd spent together, I was beyond attached to him. My emotions ran high. It was unprofessional and spur of the moment, but I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. Bill, just wake up.

The emotion in that cry startled me. I'd simply become too invested at this point. While these thoughts were rushing through my head, Bill's brain began to react again. I looked at the results. No, won't be me. What? I asked, almost at my wits end. We'll be Och, demon.

Nym, fear seized me. At this point I began to question my abilities to interpret these readings. However, after double-checking everything, the message was loud and clear, so to speak. It'll be all right, Bill. I'm here, it'll be all right, I assured him repeatedly. No, hell, eternal. Disturbed to my core, I went home that night and attempted to sleep, but slumber refused to find me. after hanging up the phone I hightailed it to the nursing home I didn't care about the hour I had to see it with my own two eyes right then and there

Bill was awake and he was talking a medical miracle entered the room and saw Martha cradling her husband the unparalleled joy I was expecting in my heart was tempered by Bill's icy glare as I introduced myself his eyes trained on me they exuded none of the warmth I'd envisioned they would they were cold and calculating he frowned at me and didn't accept my hand fair enough he was still recovering and I didn't take his current state as a personal slight at the time

I looked at Martha as she continued to grasp onto her husband the smile on her face refused to leave even as Bill was clearly recoiling from her touch the next day I revealed what I'd done I made my results say for the last session public I was lauded as a hero and receive the accolades I was expecting. However, it all felt empty. Bill wanted no part of this and remained aloof and indifferent towards me. At first I was worried that he thought I'd exploited

him, but this didn't seem to be the case. As soon as I'd heard about his miraculous recovery, I couldn't wait to start a friendship with him. However, the guy just wanted nothing to do with me. With the now indelible frown hanging on his face, he rebuffed any opportunity for future research. He even refused to meet up for coffee, which hurt immensely. This all culminated with a conversation I had with Bill's wife three weeks ago. She entered my office looking weak and haggard. She'd aged what would seem like a decade in the intervening weeks since I'd last seen her. Before I could posit a greeting, she said, it isn't him. Pardon Martha? He isn't my husband. My husband was a kind and gentleman, and always with the warmest smile in his face, but this guy, this thing.

She trailed off as she began to weep. I embraced her while having to choke back my own tears in the process. Listen, Mother, he's been through a lot. Many patients that recover from a comatose state experience, personality shifts, and abnormalities in behavior. Just have patience. It will be the bill you always love. Just give it time.

I said this with conviction, but I didn't believe a word of it. something really was amiss there was no denying it just give it time Martha I said once more unfortunately time was something Martha didn't have now as I

enter the visiting area of the jail I pick up the phone staring back at me from the other side of the glass is a face that once filled me with such hope and now I can barely look upon this homicidal monster without feeling physically ill "'Gee's what he did to Martha, the way they found her.'

The scowl now hangs below his glaring and wanton eyes. They're trained on me with a ferocious intensity. He picks up the thumb. Silence. "'Och!' I say, with trepidation. My irrational mind barely allows that word to escape my lips. The end of light gleams in his eyes His frown turns upwards into a nauseating smirk

This transforms his face into a visage of pure unadulterated evil I have to fight to not avert my gaze With a wink He finally speaks to me Greetings, Dr Williams Bill says hi I work the night shift and this is how I kill time.

I leaned back on my chair and sighed. Even though I woke up an hour ago, the mere thought of boredom that awaited me this night made me sleepy. I had two jobs, one in the end of the day, the other in the beginning of the night, with a two-hour sleep break in between. The night shift one, which it just started,

consisted of me sitting in a small booth and guarding this huge warehouse. By guarding, I mean stopping stupid little kids from sneaking in. But such a huge place, the owner didn't store anything of value. I never complained. Serious criminals didn't waste their time here, making my job easy. My tiny booth was situated at the warehouse entrance. Each night was the same.

I killed time with music, phone games, singing to myself, playing with dominoes on my small desk, and finally, after an hour and a half, listening to my favourite radio show. I increased the volume on my phone, slid it on the desk, and threw my hands behind my head. The quick, catchy intro passed, and Mark, the show host, spoke out with his calm, soothing voice. The clock did the 1-200-0, it's midnight and be alive. Shout out to the night shift. Everyone with insomnia? The night hours, and to all of you underage folk, you should be in bed,

even though you'll be getting up at 6 a.m. for school. You know how it is? I love stories, and each night we have a topic. Yesterday's sexual experiences, which put me in the hospital, attracted a lot of callers. Hopefully, tonight's topic will too. They'll be telling each other scary stories. Anything from the monster under your bed to the creep stalking you at work. Hmm, look at that. Seven callers already.

As we're doing horror tonight, I'm picking you call the number six, because six is my unlucky number. A quick beep signalled someone was on the line. Hey Mark, a long-time listener, first-time caller. A man cheerfully yelled. Much appreciation for the long-time fans, just tone it down a bit. Right, Mark, my bad. your name and the story you'll be sharing. Right, so I'm Roger. You can call me Roger because we're friends.

Right, I work from home, and going out is not something I like. All of my food is brought to my door, and all my bills are paid online. But don't think of me as some fat, lazy bastard. Never thought you were, Mark replied in a friendly tone. Right, so... One evening, I get hungry and order pizza. Talk to some guy on the phone. Tells me you'll be delivered in five minutes.

Ten minutes pass. I wait some more. I finally decide to call again. I'm more like, hey, order my pizza 15 minutes ago. Right, and the guy says, you never called us. Then I'm like, yes I did. Here's what he tells me. The guy who answers their phone have been in the toilet for over 20 minutes.

Can you believe that? Then the guy apologises and takes my order. At the moment I put my phone down, someone knocks. And I'm like, damn, that's fast. And this guy deserves a tip. So I open the door and see the pizza box on the floor. But no delivery guy. I'm thinking it's a free pizza to compensate for the long wait.

Bring it to the table. The thing was stone cold. I yell and throw it to the ground. Someone knocks on the door again. I open it and see a pizza delivery guy with a second pizza, but this time warm, and he wanted money for it. So, a mysterious ghost delivery guy brought you pizza. Weren't you listening?

The scary part was the cold pizza. Isn't the part where... Mark paused. Oh yeah. cold pizza yeah it really sucked i mark cut the line mid sentence what a nightmare cold pizza next caller let's see number number sixteen you're on the line yo mark what's good a low-pitched male voice greeted him i'm doing very well name name in the story I'm Gerald, security at the mall. This is a true story that happened to my sister's cousin.

Me and the listeners are all the ears. We'll name a cousin Ben. Not to give any personal info, you know. Ben is this really big guy. He plays football and wrestles as a hobby. He's playing football, last seconds of the game. It's up to him to win. This giant Hulk-like creature fly.

out from behind the bleachers, distracts him, makes him miss. Everyone beats his ass after the game. Nobody saw the giant hawk thing, and they don't believe him. Maybe your sister's cousin lied, made it up to avoid admitting he was the reason they lost. Ah, you're like then. Just because it sounds crazy, doesn't mean it's impossible. A beep followed, signaling the caller had hung up. Well, that was enlightening. Next caller. Number one. Muffled laughter became audible.

Caller number one, you are on. Mark repeated. The laughing didn't stop. Caller number one, do you have a scary story for us? My grades. A group of kids on the other side burst into laughter. Mark cut the line Next caller

Time to pick Number 8 Good evening, Mark A young girl greeted him And good evening back to you Why are you up so late You have school in the morning Sleepover, my first one

A big congratulations from me and everyone listening My name is Nina and I'm 13 first sleeper over at 13 my mom is stuck up she finally let me use the internet for something aside schoolwork you shouldn't talk about your mother that way

she probably has her reasons but back to the topic do you have a story for us no I sure do this happened to me when when I was younger my parents were out my babysitter

who used to be this super nice person came over to make sure I didn't get in trouble. She was telling me stories when the lights went out. There was this constant feeling of dread. So we went over to a neighbor. The lights eventually came back on. We played ball games and watched TV. Oh, how cute was the power outage what scared you.

No, my babysitter. When the lights turned on, she was different. I could have sworn her eyes turned pitch black at moments, and her skin was ice cold. At the end of the night we went back to my place. She tucked me in, said she'd check on the neighbor. There was this look in her eyes, like a cat watching a mouse. It scared me. When she left the room, I felt much safer, but I heard sounds from my neighbor, muffled yells.

Nobody believed me. He lived alone, so it took more than a week for people to realize something was going on. They found him in pieces, stuffed in the refrigerator, chew marks all across his body, and pieces of him missing. Now they believe me, and they look for the babysitter, but she disappeared, nowhere to be found. Oh, sounds really scary, Mark said in a half-serious voice. Oh, and Gerald, I believe you about the giant hawk creature. Thanks for calling, Nina. I think it's time for you to go to bed.

Next caller. Number 20. Yo, Mark, it's Fred. Oh, hello, Fred. This is the fifth time you're calling. Dude, that's so rad you remember. Now, what do you have for us? Well, my job is to teach dudes and dudettes how to ride the wave.

You know, surfs up, you know. Well, I have a rule not to rock at night, but this dudette was offering serious mullah, and she was seriously gorgeous. Now, before you continue, were you high? Dude, I'm a professional. You know, I don't get high when I rock. You said you were high in last night's story, but go on. This is what happens, my dude.

Only light is coming from the full moon. The rich dudette is super confident. Complete, I don't give a shit on my drown level of confidence. We're in the water, when the waves start up. One of the waves knocks her off and I, all Aquaman style, jump in after. The water is really dark, and I can hardly see. But I find her hand and eventually make my way down to her. Got my arm around the dudette.

Thought her hands touched mine, and I swam up. But she stops me. Dude, it's hard to be a rock underwater. Now, she's holding me, and she's pulling me even deeper. When I shits you not, somehow I could see her entire body, as if it emitted light. She was even more beautiful than before, and her legs morphed into a scaly fish tail. It felt magical. Lack of oxygen and drugs also makes it feel magically.

This was different, my dude. She kissed me. Dude, no trip, no height, no anything compared to that. Next level, ecstasy. Well, it felt long and short at the same time. Hard to explain. I woke up on the beach in the morning. She put me under an umbrella and left me a green apple and a bottle of water.

And where was the horror in your story? Where was the horror? Dude, the horror is, I can't find her. I searched high and low. It was like, here's what heaven's like. Now, screw you. Oh, and I didn't get paid. But you can brag a mermaid kissed you.

You've got that. Yeah, I guess, dude. Gonna get high and listen to the rest of your show now. I know you will. Mark let out a friend me chuckle. Next caller. Number three. Do you think you can top a mermaid encounter? I sure can, dear.

The female voice answered. Sophia, college student and adrenaline junkie. Are those two the same? Mark Joltz. They sure are. This is an experience I had with my ex. I'll call him jerk. I'm really into urban exploring. I finally got his bitch ass to come with me.

We had a car parked in front of this abandoned assignment, which I won't name. It's night time. The full moon is up, the mood is on, and we enter. I walked like a boss, well, jerk shivered behind me. Taking pictures here and there, I explored the rooms, decided to check the basement. Here's the thing. A lot of urban explorers come to this place. There are videos, forum discussions, maps. I know the stairs go down to the basement, but now I see an open hatch at the bottom. It appeared to have been hidden by some rubble, which was moved aside.

Jerg is too scared, waits in the basement while I climbed down. The place looks entirely different. It was a well-kept, clean corridor with a few steel doors, one of which I opened. Light came out, and I heard voices. This crazy scientist-looking mother with blood-covered clothes strode out and entered the neighboring door. In fact, my lucky stars, he didn't look in my direction. Finally sneaked in the room he'd exited

and see this poor skinny guy strapped on a steel table. Bloody tools to his side. Some medical chew sticking in his arm. Creepy altogether. I hate suffering, so I instinctively help. get him off the table and rip the thing out of his arm. He's mumbling something I couldn't understand back then. Later I learned that he was urging me to leave.

I was helping him hobble towards the hatch when I heard the crazy scientist ordering me to stop. I froze and looked back, only to see him pointing a gun at me. He looked pissed, really pissed. He glanced at his watch, locked eyes of me, And to my surprise, told me he was sorry. The wacko walked in the room, shut the big steel door, and locked it from the inside. So I continue helping the skinny guy.

He doesn't weigh a lot, so I throw him over my shoulder and climb up. Jerk is all freaked out. I quickly explain and tell him to help. One of us on each side, we carry him out to the car. He was finally able to stand up on his own. That's when shit hit the fan. He pushed me and jerk back and ordered us to run. Jirke began asking questions, but the skinny guy widened his eyes.

I'll never forget that look of pure fear and terror. His eyelids looked like they were trying to close, but couldn't. This whole body looked like he wanted to run, but just shook. The guy did this weird rapid twitching motion with his lips and fingers. He let out a shout. I can't call it a shout. A shriek, a yell. I don't know.

It sounded like he begged a horrible pain to stomp. It was so loud. His fingers stretched and boney yellow nails ripped through their tips. All of his limbs elongated and his skin began to tear, revealing patches of fur. Me and Jirk finally stopped watching the horror show and ran to the car. But the keys weren't in my pocket. They must have fallen somewhere on the way.

while we were hobbling with the man. Jerk and I ran inside, searching for them. I could hear the shout through the asylum walls. A second scream emerged from deep inside, slowly growing and deafening the human one. We finally found the key when a monstrous roar sounded, and everything went quiet.

That silence was much more frightening than the loud shrieks. Slowly and carefully, we tried to walk out. else. Halfway through, something crunched and both of us hid. I crawled under the reception desk, while jerked hid behind a ripped out of its hinges door, leaning against the wall. I heard balls, similar to those of dogs. The creature moved closer. The thud came from above, and I felt its weight on the desk. A disgusting clawed hand gripped the desk, and I could hear its panting. An uncanny snouts stuck under the desk and sniffed, slowly lowering and revealing more of the creature's head. Just before it took a peek, jerk made a run for it. I heard his loud, clumsy ass. The thing on

the desk instantly leaped, and everything went quiet. I was expecting gruesome sounds of flesh being torn into, but nothing. The solid hour passed, and I finally got out from under the desk. Everything was clear. No traces of blood. Nothing. I walked out, got in my car and drove off. The cops found the hatch the other day, but said it was all burned and in rubble. Jerk, the guy who tried to leave so he could save himself, was never hurt off again. The other creepy part is that when I described a skinny man to this one officer who drew faces, they found a suspect and later confirmed it was him. Two years ago, the man looked a lot healthier and worked as a well-paid chef. Then, he supposedly died in a car accident. A werewolf almost killed you,

and your boyfriend left you to be eaten. What a night. Totally, but in a way, I needed it. Showed me that jerk in his true colors. Oh, I'm sure you'll find someone who truly, loves you if you haven't already. I'm talking to him right now, dear. The beep followed. Next and final cool. Who will be the lucky cherry on the top to end this spooky night?

Hmm. Number 30. Hey Mark. Awesome to be talking with you. This will be the best story of the night. A young boy shouted. Is that so? We had a ghost pizza delicious. regard. A giant hog-like creature, a man-eating babysitter, a glowing mermaid, and an ex-chef whirlwolf. Name and story. Oh, I'm Thomas, and my buddy Billy is here. Now, this story is going

on live as we speak. Interesting. Well, we're all on the edge of our seats. The floor is yours. Me and my bud heard rumors. Our secret technology was being held in this old warehouse, so we sneaked in. Just a few minutes ago. Now we're looking through the crates, but so far just random shit. His voice became distant. What is it, Billy? He talked normally again. My bud heard something.

We're going behind a few crates. Run! His heavy breathing and running sounded for a few seconds before going silence. I'm hiding in one of the crates. This monster attacked us. it got billy teeth spread ear to ear scars and stitches all over the body his long tongue hovered out from its mouth no mark ended the call hmm quite a boring one to close the night with jump scares don't make a good story well this is all from me for the next hour now it's time to enjoy some music Earbuds in my ears, I whistled.

I carried the crate where I put those two stupid little kids into my booth. Lucky me, I'll have more ways to kill time this night. I whispered and slid my long, sharp nail across the top of the crate. The Craigslist job, Gone Wrong, by Joshua Brooks, 2018. Okay, I don't really know where to do. start, but here I go. My name was Joshua. I used to live in the US, in a state I won't mention, with my sister and her son. Yeah, my sister moved in with me after leaving her abusive husband. What I'm about to say happened about a year and a half ago. I'm still suffering nightmares about it.

I was afraid to come out and speak the truth on this story, but after much convincing from a few close friends that I felt I could truly, truly trust, I decided to share this story, and a warning. What I'm about to say is 100% true. This is no BS. This is what myself and my friend experience. So I was back in June a year and a half ago. I've been working at a group home in my state as a social worker slash counsellor for abused kids. But then after a couple of months, myself and a few other employees there, one of them being a close friend of mine named Sam, we were let go. I was devastated. Didn't know how I'd make ends meet. I went out looking for jobs. putting in applications, going on interviews, and so did Sam.

And nothing we were doing was turning out well. So after a better part of six months, with both of us still being unemployed, I know I personally began to get really frustrated. I mean, I had a mortgage to pay, other bills to pay. Whilst I was taking care of my sister and her kid, it was safe to say that I needed a job and quit.

And so I went searching through Craigslist. I found this one job. They were looking for people to work at their B&B. It was going to open soon. They were looking for living housekeepers, some cook, front desk club. It was 20 bucks an hour, and it came with free room and board, thus being able to go back to our own homes on the weekend. I thought, I can't beat this.

Twenty bucks an hour? That's damn good money. I wasn't working in my career field, but at this point, I was willing to take what I could get. That evening I caught the number that I'd seen all, the Craiglist ad and this guy with a southern accent answered. I told him I was interested in applying. He said, well, when could I come over for an interview?

Told him tomorrow. He asked if I could come that very same evening. Hmm. Come with that evening? It was pretty fast for an interview. Well, I thought this and I even told the guy. Not that I was complaining though, but I just thought it was odd. Especially seeing as how it was already four in the evening,

getting close to dark when I called. Anyway, the guys said that they were pretty desperate and that if I really wanted the position, I mean that evening would help them out. I agreed to come and asked if I could bring a friend. I was referring to Sam. And guys said, yeah, sure. Asked me what my name was, gave me the address of where to come. It's handy to see us when we got there.

So I told my sister and my nephew, 15 at the time, that I was going to this job I'd found on Craigslist. And as I ignored my sister and my nephew's rantings about how I should be careful about what I respond to on Craigslist, I left the house. Went to pick up Sam, we went on our way to the job into you. As we were driving, I got annoyed listening to Sam's constant rantings about this $20 an hour job being too good to be true. I didn't care if it was too good to be true.

I needed a job, and I was desperate, so I was going to believe it was true no matter what. I couldn't believe how far out it was from the main city, though. I mean, for the better part of an hour, the ride consisted of me. driving down a long stretch of rural road with nothing but woods on both sides. When Sam and I finally got there though, the B&B was sitting back up off the road and looked like one of those plantation houses you'd see in Louisiana. When we walked up to the porch of the B&B, we were greeted by some skinny young-faced kid

who didn't have been any older than 20 named Trent. Trent looked like someone who belonged at a skater park somewhere. He gave us this weird smile upon greeting us. We told Sam and I that we were the fourth and fifth half. applicants that had been interviewed today, and that the other applicants who come had all been hired on the spot for the positions they wanted. Oh, I thought. You were being hired on the spot?

Well, that was rare. Well, it took me three interviews before I was hired to be the counsellor at the group home I was working at before. Anyway, as Trent Waters into the B&B and led us into the kitchen, he turned around to faces and said, I think Jack will like you two. And as Sam began to speak from out of nowhere behind us. appeared this big, all-built-house guy. The guy was so tall he looked like he could be a replacement for the wrestle and the

Undertaker. Sam and I found out the guy who was Jack, the owner of the B&B. After Sam introduced ourselves to him, Sam, Jack and I walked to a big ballroom area to sit and talk. I asked Jack who it was that I talked to on the phone earlier, inquiring about the job, since I recognised by his voice that I hadn't been talking to him, Jack, that is. Jack told me I'd been talking to his brother Charlie.

Jack said that Charlie has the brains behind the whole operation. Operation, I asked. You mean the opening of the B&B? Jack responded with a yes and a weird laugh before saying, Yeah, that's what I meant. Jack went on to tell us that Charlie would be around the B&B for a little while, but mostly Charlie would be working behind the scenes that he, Jack, and his son Trent and his daughter, Marissa,

would be the ones who'd be running and operating the day to day, once it opened. He then told us that he, Trent and Marissa worked for Charlie, and that Charlie was an affiliated worker for a top-secret entity within the government. Well, this piqued my curiosity. I asked Jack what this entity was, but Jack wouldn't say. In fact, he changed the subject by suggesting we follow him to his office, so he could interview us there, and we did. As we went to him to his office, the first thing that stood out to me was how freaking creepy it was. There were bottled animals of all types

on shelves and tables around the room. Pigs and spiders, even shrunken heads. You name it, Jack had it. It looked like we'd stepped into a scene from romp zombies's house of a thousand corpses or something. However, I didn't give a shit too much of what he had in his office. All I wanted was a jaw. So as Sam and I sat at his desk, ready to be interviewed,

it was at this time I noticed a very unique-looking tattoo on Jack's lower arm. is a black tattoo of an owl with a pyramid in the middle of the body of the Al in the middle of the pyramid was an all-seeing eye I asked Jack what the tattoo meant

he said that he loved owls and the tattoo was something he got during college before I could probe him any further he quickly changed the subject by stating his hopes that he could hire two more people so he could finally begin work on getting the B&B ready for opening

and so the interview began but Jack asking us weird-ass question like how healthy we were. When was the last time we were sick? What was our eye colour? Were we on any prescription medicine? And even more weirder than that?

What were our blood types? And if we both were signed up as organ donors on our driver's licenses? Throughout all of these questions, some and I were like, what the hell do these questions have to do with the jobs that we have to do here at the B&B? Jack assured us, though,

that the questions were 100% being legitimately asked in case any emergencies happened to us upon working at the B&B. Jack even then told us some story of a guy who'd once worked for him. It was secretly on pain meds, and how one day Jack found the guy dead in the concrete mixer. Well, I still found the questions to be beyond, weird, though. So did it as Sam, and to be honest, I felt like I was ready just to get up out of there and leave,

because I was beginning to think that maybe this wasn't even a real interview, but some kind of damn scam or something. but then the desperateness of me wanting a job kicked in again and on top of that Jack assured us with the seriousness once again that the questions were being asked because he was all about safety in the workplace so I stayed for the rest of the interview so did Sam but then the interview got even weirder Jack told us that as soon as Charlie got my name and number from earlier when I called

he and Jack could run a full background check on me I couldn't believe it I'd really run a background check on me with just my name and number. Sam and I thought this was way beyond creepy. Jack told us that we'd be surprised what a person can find out was just a name and a telephone number. And once again, I was creeped the fuck out. What kind of employer does this even before a potential employee comes for the job interview? At this point, I couldn't hold it in anymore.

I had to ask him if this was even a real interview. He assured Sam and I that it was. that he had to make sure he was getting the right type of employees. Yeah, right, I thought. I found something creepy about the entire thing, but I didn't want to leave because I knew I couldn't. I needed a job. But at this point, Jack said the interview was over.

We were both hired because he liked us. Yes, I thought, I got it, I finally got a damn job. Inside my mind, I was doing backflips, so when Jack showed us around the B&B, told us that before the place opened, we'd have to pitch in and do a lot of cleaning to the place. Well, it was okay. Well, he was right. With the exception of four rooms in the B&B, every other room he showed us looked like a complete

freaking dump, including one room having a body chalk outline on the floor. Jack explained, though, that the body chalk outline had come from a murder that occurred when the former owners owned the house. And he took us what had to be one of the creepiest rooms in the entire place. The walls of the room were covered in blood, with a gurney sitting on one side of the room, and a wheelchair sitting on the other side. Jack explained the look of the room, as it was told to him by the previous moments. The group of guys were staying at the house while attending a rodeo in town,

one of the guys cut himself and smeared blood all over the walls. Jesus fucking Christ, I thought. That was creepy in and of itself, but Jack stating that to him the room resembled a kill room, Oh shit, that just made the entire situation even more scary in my mind. It honestly sent chills down my damn spy. So, after viewing the entire inside of the house, I'm thinking, that's it, we've seen this. We've been hired.

We can go home now and come back on Monday, riding early for work. Well, no. His Jack then takes us out to the garage and says he has one last thing to show us. The wooded nature trail. The wooded nature trail, at night. How the hell can he show us this trail when it's dark as shit outside? But he gives us each flashlights before he takes one for himself, and he grabs his shotgun off a shell.

Oh, I thought, and I freaking hate shotguns. When I was eight, and my dad and I were at a gas station one night. My dad was robbed at gunpoint and murdered. Ever since then guns have just scared the shit out of me. over Jack assured Sam and I he was taking the gun because of the dogs that often roamed the woods at night that explanation didn't help

not only did I not want to go out with someone toting around a gun but I also didn't want to even go out to the freaking woods period overseeing the look of annoyance on Jack's face I decided to hide my fears and go along with the gun and the wooded nature trail after all

well I didn't want to lose the job that I just got hired on so as we walked along the wooded nature trail going deeper and deeper into the forest and began to ask us what made us tip what things we enjoy sam said he enjoyed painting i said i liked what i did as a counselor helping people empowering people his jack and i began to confess about my last job after a few minutes he hushed me as he said he heard climbing noises in the trees around him I looked at Jack as if it was nuts Yeah, of course you heard climbing noises, dumbass

I'm here in the woods As Jack had a squirrel climbing up the tree Told me to hold his flashlight While he pointed his shotgun at it And some asked what the hell he was doing Jack said he was going to shoot the squirrel What the hell I thought He asked Jack why

Jack just shot me the creepiest glare and said You're funny As Jack was about to shoot the squirrel, he stopped, looked at me and asked. Oh, wait a minute. Where are my goddamn manners? You want to shoot him? Well, I thought this man is freaking nuts. I'm not one who hurts animals, so I immediately declined. As Jack asked Sam, the same question, he declined too. But before Sam could get any other word out besides the word no, Jack had fired the shot, the squirrel was dead on the

ground. The sound of the shotgun was so loud that it echoed in my ears like an explosion. As Jack laughed like a madman while trampling over and picking up the dead squirrel that had blood oozing out of it. And looking at it like it may have been a tasty lunch meal, I thought to myself, man, this guy is freaking weird. But I also thought, don't care if he's weird or not. As long as I had a job, that's all that mattered.

So after killing the squirrel, after Jack told us, he was going to add the squirrel to his collection of dead animals in the office. We proceeded to walk away from the wooded nature trail, back to the B&B and back to my car, as finally the weirdest job interview ever was appearing to be over. Well, the weirdness didn't stop on our way back to my car. As we were walking, Jake asked me to hold his dead, bleeding squirrel,

because he claimed he couldn't hold his gun and the squirrel at the same time. He didn't ask Sam to hold it. He asked me. God, I didn't want to hold it. The thing looked disgusting as hell, dead and bloodied. But because I wanted to keep my current job stated as hired, I reluctantly agreed to hold it while we walked back to my car. I held it by the end of its tail, at arm's length.

I tried to hold back my urge to vomit out of sickness for what was dangling in front of my eyes. As we walked back to my car, I was mentally thanking the guards that the interview was over. I mean, I was thrilled to finally have a job. job, but boy, was that one creepy damn job interview? Anyway, as Jack told us to be back at the B&B bright and early on Monday morning, 8am to be exact, I gave Jack back his dead and bloody squirrel happily. Sam and I got in my car and drove away, part two. So that weekend, I packed as much

as I thought I'd need for the week at the B&B, and when Monday came, I hug my sister and my nephew goodbye and headed for the job. Sam drove to the B&B in his own car and I met up with him that morning and we arrived. But at this time, I also met the other two employees. Katrina? I won't give her last name, out of respect for her family. And Rob, I won't give his name either

for the same reason. We also met Jack's daughter, Marissa, who looked to be a cracked-out 80s version of Ali Sheedy, just with longer, shaggy hair. We also met Charlie. Charlie looked like one creepy fucker with his dark brown slick back hair,

his cold, black eyes. He was a bit short but built in the chest. His face looked hard, like he didn't take shit from anyone. Anyway, after Jack introduced us all to each other, Jack informed us that there was no need for us to try and use our cell phones because we wouldn't get any cell phone service where we were, and the phone and internet service in the B&B hadn't been installed yet. So other than our cars, we had no other way to contact anyone in town. Well, that should have been a red flag in my mind, but it wasn't because to me it made sense the B&B was in a rural area

so of course our cell phones wouldn't work up there anyway after Jack explained all that we got to work Katrina began working in the kitchen cleaning it and performing a cooking test for Trent I worked on cleaning up the backyard which included a backyard shed and I also helped brainstorm some ideas with Charlie

as for advertising Charlie put Sam to work cleaning the bedrooms and bathrooms. This was something Sam said scared the hell out of him. As one of the rooms he went in, had snakes slithering out of every corner of the wall. Sam said, as he saw the snakes slithering towards him, he ran out of the room and into the hallway, where he bumped into Jack. Sam said when he told Jack what he'd seen in the room, Jack just laughed and said, ah, you found the snake room, huh? Sam told Jack that he needed an exterminator to get on that problem really quick. Jack just laughed and said Trent on it before walking away.

Sam even told me that Katrina told him that she was working with Trent in the kitchen that day. Trent said something that made her very creeped out. Katrina stated that Trent had said that, judging from her ethnicity, had bet that she'd had a lot of melanin within her. And Sam told me that. Well, that was beyond weird.

But that wasn't all. Katrina told Sam that Trent then went on to say that melanin went for 400 bucks on the black. market and that people were killed just to get that shit. Sam said Katrina told him that, that scared the shit out of her, and at that moment she didn't know what to say, so she just nodded and said, uh-huh, rushed the hell out of the kitchen. Yeah, as I heard Sam tell me all of that, scared the hell out of me too. Where's a conversation like that with someone?

Later that evening, after we'd finished doing day one of the cleanup work, getting the B&B ready for opening. We all, that's myself, Sam Trent, Marissa, Charlie, Katrina and Rob, sat around a dinner table for dinner. It was a meal that Katrina had cooked earlier for evening during her cooking test. It was during the dinner that Rob told us, and right before dinner, he'd been chased through the wooded nature trail by dogs that belonged to Jack. This too should have been a red flag in my mind, but it wasn't.

This did, though, scare the hell out of me, particularly because I have a morbid fear of dogs. Ever since I was ten, I've been scared of dogs, specifically the big ones. Jack explained away the incident as just being one that had happened by accident, that the dogs were harmless. I did nothing to quell Rob's anger over the incident. As everyone talked about how their first day had gone, Jack began to tell us what was in store for us tomorrow.

The spirit cooking ritual. What? I asked him. What the hell was a spirit? a lyric cooking ritual. Sam and I both asked him this. Charlie just gave us the weirdest answer of how it was hard to explain. We'd just have to wait until tomorrow to see what it was for ourselves. I would have been fine with that answer. I think Sam would have too. We'd not seen Charlie smile and winked us immediately after stating his answer. Again, this should have been another red flag for me. But, unfortunately, it wasn't. So after dinner, we settled in for the night.

Went to sleep in the only four rooms that looked decent and had furniture in them. And then at one in the morning, Trent yelled for us to come downstairs because Jack needed all of us out in the wooded nature trail with him ASAP. What? I thought. One in the morning and what for? Trent said it was because inspection people were coming first thing in the morning, so we needed to help Jack pretty up the wooded nature trail tonight. While he and Marissa and Charlie cleaned up the inside and the rest of the outside,

side areas of the B&B. Well, I thought, okay, but this couldn't be done at four or five, maybe even six in the morning. This had to be done at one in the morning. Damn it. I don't know why this wasn't sending off red flags in my head at the time. Should have, I guess.

I was being so damn naive and gullible to believe shit that now looking back made absolutely no freaking sense at all. So with flashlights, given to us by Trent, in hand. Sam, Katrina, Rob and I, walked out towards the wooded trail. The first thing we noticed was that our cars were gone from the garage area.

That was weird to us because that's where we'd parked our cars when we came to the B&B on the first day. So, who'd moved our cars? Katrina stated how she thought maybe the cars had been moved out so they could clean the garage area. Because this area did have a funky type of smell to it. Rob and Sam and I, we went along with that idea. Yeah, maybe that's why our cars were moved. God, we were so freaking stupid

Anyway, after walking for the better part of five minutes on the trail We heard footsteps a few feet away from us As we turned to our left We saw several feet away It was Charlie in full army fatigue From the black and green war paint on his face So the army had on his head

Down to his big black combat boots In Charlie's left hand It was a long butcher night He was standing there just staring at us like a homicidal lunatic. In that moment my blood ran cold. I couldn't understand it. Zam couldn't understand it.

Katrina didn't understand it and neither could rot. Why the hell was he standing there with a knife in his hand? Basically looking at us like that. Before we had time to even think any further, we heard growling from behind us. As we all turned around, we saw three big black Rottweiler dogs standing a few feet from us, with long, sharp white teeth, it was showing slight drool dripping from their mouths.

That was when we began to panic. As the dogs instantly began charging towards us, Rob shouted for us to run, and run we most certainly freaking did. As we ran, I looked back at the dogs and saw that another dog had joined the three that were already chasing us. This just made me pick up the pace in my running, and I told the others to do the same.

However it seemed the more we ran, the further away from the B&B we seemed to be. But as Rob Sam and I ran back up to the porch of the B&B, we didn't even realise that Katrina wasn't with us. We'd really had no time to think of anything, because we'd rush through the doorway of the house as one of the dogs jumped onto the porch, grabbed hold of Rob's leg, and yanked him down onto the floor. As Rob yelled for us to help him,

Sam and I grabbed hold of Rob's arm, tried our very best to pull him towards us, towards the inside of the house, away from the dog that was biting down on his leg. As blood spurted out of Rob's leg, and as I looked up and saw the other three dogs speedily making the way towards the porch, I knew we were running out of time.

He had to get Rob free from the dog's clenches quick. Sam and I pulled even harder to try to get Rob's leg free. As the other three dogs rushed onto the porch, that was when Sam and I finally were able to pull Rob free from that dog. and just as all four dogs reached the door, we slammed it shut just in time. However, the horror wasn't over there. The three of us remained in the hallway of the B&B. Before we could even collect our thoughts mentally, a loud shotgun blast was heard from outside,

making all of us jump. The blast made a huge hole through the front door. Jeez, what the fuck was going on? thought to myself. and at that moment we heard Jack's voice from outside Welcome to the beginning of the spirit cooking ritual Jack yelled

What What? What was he talking about? What was going on here? Is this some sort of freaking game or something? Then Rob figured it out Yep He was trying to freaking kill us At that moment

In a brief split of a minute it all made sense. The weird questions Jack asked us during the interview, the bloody killroom Jack had showed us, the wooded nature trail tour Jack gave Sam and I during the interview, where he killed the squirrel right in front of us. The mention of the spirit cooking ritual during dinner that previous evening. Yeah, finally all made perfect, bricking sense.

We'd been lured into a scam, a deadly scam where we were going to be the victims, of a frightening, freaking murder would be carried out by a group of crazies. It began to panic. I didn't have much time to panic as Rob Sam and I heard Trent's voice behind us in the hallway. As we turned around,

we saw Trent standing a few feet from us with a shotgun aimed directly at Rob's head. Before any of us could say a word, Trent fired the gun, blowing half of Rob's head off and sending blood splashing all over, Sam and I. Can't even think of it. about this without crying. So there some and I were, standing there in shock as Rob's dead body

dropped to the floor, and Trent laughed like a homicidal maniac. The fact that Trent then said, oh shit, that felt good. God damn, I love killing, it turned my blood cold. I was beyond terrified at that moment. What the fuck? These people are mental cases. And I kept thinking, that maybe this is just a dream. Maybe this wasn't happening, but no, this was happening. This was real. As I stood there, shocked and stunned in my fear, Sam grabbed my arm and pulled me up the stairs at the B&B.

Why he didn't run me out of the B&B, I didn't understand at the time, but I do now. Where would we have run once we were outside? The cars had been taken out of the garage to, God knows where, and the B&B was in the middle of nowhere. From what we knew, Jack was still outside, so where were we going to run to? So, as Sam ran with me up the stairs, by it being darker on the upper floor, we couldn't see which rooms were which. Sam tried flipping on the hallway light as we got to the upper floor, but the lights weren't working.

So we just ran into the first room we found. That happened to be the kill room. As we ran in and Sam closed the door behind us, we saw. saw the room was lit by red light bulbs that were nailed to the ceiling. Sam ran over to the windows and began to try and pull them open, but it was no use. Either Jack, Marissa Trent or Charlie had nailed the windows shut from the outside. I didn't stop Sam from trying to pry open the windows, though. Meanwhile, my mind was stuck on what I'd just seen downstairs. A murder. A horrifying murder right in front of my eyes. The blood of someone else was splashed all over me, all over my mind.

my skin. As I looked up, I then saw something that heightened my fear. You feet away was a gurney, and on that gurney was a dead body. I couldn't tell if it was a male or female body. The eyes on the body had been removed, and the chest had been slit wide open. All of the organs inside the body had been removed, and blood was smeared all over the outside of the body's chest. It was horrifying. I just kept thinking. God, is this what they're going to do to us? As I called Sam over for him to see what I was seeing, we both stared, shocked and horrified.

But then at that moment we heard Trent's voice yelling. Little pigs, little pigs led me here. Oh, this guy is totally insane. But at the second thought, Sam grabbed my arm and pulled me over into a closet to hide. It's Sam slamming the door to the closet behind her. It wasn't even a minute after we were in the room. closet that we saw Charlie dragging a kicking and fighting Katrina into the room with Jack following behind.

Damn it, I wanted to rush out of that closet to help Katrina. But Sam said no. In fact, Sam covered my mouth to keep me from even making a damn sound. In that closet, saw the second most frightening sight of my entire life. I saw Charlie stabbing Katrina over and over and over as she fought and screamed for her life. as blood splashed everywhere. He just kept stabbing her, in the face, until she was dead. All I could do in that closet while watching all of this was cry.

Cry and wish my mind that I could help her. Someone I could both help her. But we knew we couldn't. If we rushed out of that closet to help Katrina, Charlie and Jack would kill us both. So all we could do was watch another life get taken right in front of our damn eyes. after what had to be about the tenth or eleventh stab. We saw Charlie quit the repeated process

and then look at Jack with a smile. We heard Charlie say, he was going to drop off the two, now realizing he meant Rob and Katrina. He then heard Charlie say, who was going to drop off these two, realizing he meant Rob and Katrina, and come back to the B&B

after Jack, Trent and Marissa had finished Sam and I on. You've got to get out of here, I thought. Then we saw Charlie drag Katrina out of the roof, with Jack following behind, I finally broke into sobs. I couldn't believe what had transpired in just a matter of minutes, the horror I'd seen. Sam got up from the floor and tried to pull me up. I was too emotional to even stand.

I was too traumatized at that point. It was too traumatized at that point. Before even a moment could go past from Katrina's murder, all of a sudden I found myself being yanked through the wall in the closet. and into another room. Sam yelled out for me and tried to grab me, but couldn't get there in time. As I yelled and fought to keep myself from being dragged along, I was suddenly tossed across the floor of another room. The snake room, which, like the kill room,

was also lit by red light bulbs that were nailed to the ceiling. I knew I was in the snake room because within seconds, as I got to my feet, I would see the snake slithering out from every corner of the wall, The one thing I'm scared of more than dogs is snakes. I was terrified. I rushed to where I thought the door of the room would be, but I couldn't find it. It was as if the door to the room didn't exist. How the hell am I going to get out of here? I thought to myself.

I began yelling and pounding on the door for help, for Sam, but it didn't make a difference. No one came for me, so I did the only thing I could think of to do. It was far away from the snake slithering towards me as possible. I wouldn't help much, but what else was I going to do? I had of pure fear. Broke into sobs. I bought it whatever, but I was scared. Scared out of my mind.

As I was backing up, someone grabbed me from behind and yanked me out of the room. As I was kicking and fighting to get three from the person dragging me down the hallway, I looked up, and so it was Jack. I was going to die. This was it. It was going to freaking kill me. I. was going to die.

Part three, as he dragged me down to the basement, to a closed door that read, Operating room on it. I fought even harder. And you had to do something, anything to prevent me from going to the other side of this door. However, all my fighting was in vain. Jack was much bigger and more built than I was.

Couldn't get free from him. As you opened the door and dragged me inside the room behind it, he took me over to a gurney in the centre of the room as he picked me up and threw me onto the gurney but a large pain shoot through my back but I was sure he'd broken my back the way he'd slammed me down on that gurney this is when my fear

turned into anger anger and determination as I took my feet and kicked him hard in the nuts and I kicked him with such force that he fell down to the floor on his ass that moment I jumped up off the journey and ran towards the steps of the basement. Not before Jack grabbed me by the back of my legs and tripped me up.

Oh shit, I thought. Then as I fell to the floor, Jack jumped up and grabbed a hatchet sitting on the shelf next to him. When I saw that hatchet in his hand, I knew I had to either fight back or die in that moment. Then Jack swung the hatchet down, aiming for my legs. But I managed to roll away just at the right time. as I got to my feet he grabbed me by the neck from behind and slammed me up against the wall in front of him

helped me against the wall by squeezing his hands tightly around my neck I thought right then that that was the end of me I was going to die began seeing blurriness my mind of that moment went back to the very moment I caught about this job and I began mentally wishing I'd never called in the first place

I was about to give up but I didn't because I knew I wasn't ready to die at that moment. I wasn't ready to die. I reached my arm over as far as I could. I managed to grab a pair of scissors hanging on a nail from the wall. I took the scissors and stab him down hard into his arm. He yelled and let go of my neck then. I dropped to the floor almost like a freaking rag doll. Throughout all my coughing and gagging to breathe after almost being choked to death, I managed to crawl away on the floor before getting to my feet and running to the other side of the room, where I grabbed a pistol sitting on the shelf.

As Jack rushed over to me, he stopped in his tracks when he saw me aiming the pistol at him. I couldn't believe it. At that moment, the very thing I was afraid of and didn't want to have anything to do with was the thing I was holding in my hand. I was about to use it to kill someone who was trying to kill me. Couldn't have been more terrified. There Jack stood, just a few feet from me, smiling like a lunatic. What are you going to do?

He said to me, shoot me. You hate guns, remember? In fact, didn't you say the guns scare you? Don't be a fucking moral. I will, I replied, how kill you after you murdered Katrina and Rob? He then laughed at me, said I didn't have the balls to shoot him. took a few steps towards me, my heart beginning to swell with fear.

I did not want to fire that gun because he was indeed right. Guns did scare the shit out of me. As he rushed towards me and tacking me down to the floor, I realized I had no choice. Well, it was hard for me to even pull the trigger. He had his hands wrapped around the gun now, trying to pry it from my hands. We fought and tussled on the floor for the gun. somehow, I believe now out of pure luck, I managed to pull the trigger, not once but three times,

firing into his chest. As his eyes widened and blood spilled from his mouth, he dropped down dead on top of me. I was almost sick, and in that moment I entered into a brief mental breakdown. Somehow through this, I managed to push him off of me and got to my feet. But as I stood there I stared down at my body hands trembling stunned in shock

I was seconds just mere seconds away from mentally cracking up because I had never killed anyone before however it was hearing Sam's yelling voice from the outside that shook me out of this moment I looked around the room for what I could use

to help Sam as I certainly wasn't going to use that freaking gun again I grabbed a baseball bat sitting on the shelf and ran up the stairs to Sam's A. As I ran outside, I followed Sam's yells. I saw Trent on top of him, a few feet away from the porch at the B&B, choking the life out of Sam.

Anger erupted within me again, and I ran over and smashed Trent in the back of his head with the bat. As I dropped the bat and sat down beside Sam, he helped into his feet after after I. asking if he was all right. While he was coughing with severity, said he felt weak and lightheaded. As I looked up, I counted it as a miracle that Marissa's truck was in the driveway. It hadn't been there when Sam, Rob and I had run back into the B&B before. I hurriedly helped Sam over to the truck, got him inside and cursed in anger when the keys weren't in the ignition.

It was at this moment that Sam told me that the keys were on Marissa, whom Sam had killed. killed in the hallway of the B&B before being attacked by Trent. So I left Sam inside the truck. Tony might be right back, and rushed back in from Arista's keys. I didn't even realize that Trent was no longer lying on the ground in front of the B&B. As I rushed inside, or out of nowhere, Trent jumped on my back like some kind of spider monkey or something, and began biting me and tearing at the skin on my neck and lower face. as at this moment that Trent and I became embroiled in a fight.

I struggled to get him off me. But once I did, we began exchanging blows, and our fight rolled over into the dining room, where we were knocking over tables and everything. The fight was brutal, and he was strong, stronger than I'd thought. As the fight continued, somehow Trent got on top of me and began choking me.

God, what was it with this guy and choking people? I fought as hard as I could to get his hands off my neck but I just couldn't and this kid was strong I was so close to blucking out then when Sam rushed up from behind Trent and put him in a tight chokehold pulling Trent off of me

as Trent and Sam now became engaged in a fight with each other all I could do with gag and cough friend who gained my composure after almost being choked to death don't remember how long the fight between the two of them lasted but I do remember Sam eventually jumping on top of Trent and with knife in hand slashing Trent's throat killing

Sam looked at me and as I looked at him we sighed with relief that it was over we'd survived and it was all over as we both walked out of the B&B and back to the truck getting inside and driving away

we had no clue that it wasn't over just yet He was Charlie As Sam drove with me in the front passenger seats Charlie popped up from behind us and grabbed Sam around the neck trying to strangle him These people must have some obsession with strangling

The Sam almost lost control of the wheel While gagging to breathe I told Sam to keep his hands on the wheel I then bit down hard on Charlie's arm Making blood stream from him Making him yell out in pain while letting go of Sam. Finally had enough of all this.

Anger overtook me as I jumped in the backseat, tackled Charlie down to the floor. We began fighting, exchanging blows with each other. And as Charlie tried to get on top of me, trying once again to do what they obviously love to do, strangle me. I managed to take my right foot and press down on the back door handle a few feet away from me and open it.

As the door swung open, I took my right foot and kicked Charlie hard in the nuts, sending him flying off me and out of the car. Then with quickness, I shut up, grabbed the door handle and slammed the car door shut. As I looked out of the back, I saw Charlie stand to his feet on the road, shake his head and shoot his eyes over at the car we were driving away in, filled with rage. He had to have been pretty strong to survive being kicked out of a moving car. Finally, though, I thought it was all over. Sam drove us straight to the police station in town,

and we told two detectives everything that had happened, told them all about Jack, Trent, Marissa, and Charlie, gave them the address of the B&B. Later, one of the detectives told us that he'd sent officers out to the address we'd given him, that there was nothing or no one there but an empty house. No bodies of Jack, Marissa, or Trent. no spirit cooking ritual didn't find any snakes in the snake room

no blood or gurney or anything creepy in the kill room the detective said that it was just an old house old plantation house that had been abandoned for years I couldn't believe it neither could Sam we know what we saw we know what happened to us there

what the fuck was happening now anyway the detective told us the car would take Sam and I home from the station because Marissa's car that we'd driven to the station in was now being impounded. So we went home. As we were riding home, though, in the same car together, thought back to something the detective had told me in the interrogation room in the station. I told Sam about it.

I told Sam how, in the interrogation room, the detective had mentioned about the spirit cooking ritual. I'd never even mentioned this to the detectives. For some reason, I'd forgotten all about mentioning. I asked Sam if he'd mentioned the spirit cooking ritual to either of the detectives. Sam swore that he didn't. He didn't even think of mentioning it, because he was more focused on describing the murders of Rob and Katrina that he'd seen.

So how in the fuck? Had that detective known? Unless he and the other detective were in on it. So once we got home, I decided to Google the detective's names. I found online a picture that both the detectives had taken with the police chief and the rest of the police department staff. On the bare arms of these detectives and the police chief

was the same tattoo that Sam and I had seen on Trent and Jack's arms. Only the tattoos that were on the police chief and the detectives were smaller than the one Jack had on his arm. That means those two detectives and the chief of police were in on what happened. Probably the entire force was behind it. Days later, Sam and I each received a visit from two men who identified.

identified themselves as CIA agents. The agents told us that they'd gotten in contact with the police and detectives at the station that we'd gone to, and they knew about our story, what had happened to Sam and I, that we were to tell no one else of what had happened to us. Because if we did, there would be grave consequences. They scared the shit out of me. They asked them why. And if they were connected to Jack, Charlie, Trent, and Marissa, but they wouldn't tell me or Sam, when Sam asked them. They just said that for our own safety and livelihood, to not tell anyone else what had happened to us, that they would be watching our every moon.

This made both of us extremely scared. It also made us believe that not only were the entire police department behind what happened to us, but that the government was behind what happened to us as well. So here I am, present day. I've changed my name. So is Sam. We've moved our families out of the state. We were in, in fact out of the US. I won't say what country we're in now, but we're in hiding for our own safety.

I still don't think we're safe where we are. I mean, Sam and his family and me and my family, we've had to move six different times because each time we settled in a place, we felt like they had found us. Due to us getting constant, threatening and harassing phone calls, having our homes broken into and feeling like we were being watched and followed. In the country we're in now, been here for about three months. We like to think we may be safe, but we're still unsure. We're constantly looking over our shoulders.

I don't think we'll ever feel confidently safe. I can't really explain what happened, but I believe that job that we responded to was there to lure us into being the victims of some kind of government, organ harvesting, melanin theft type of thing. To this day, I suffer from nightmares. Almost every night from what I went through then. My life has never been the same, and it never will be.

Sam has turned to alcohol to cope with what happened, and that in turn affected his life so much that he and his wife divorced. I wanted to come here, though, as I said, to warn people, and Sam and I are working with some of our friends to try to get this story out to people on a wider scale, because all of them, Brent, Marissa and Jackard, dad but Charlie is still alive and he's still out there somewhere who's to say Charlie won't recruit new people to do the same kind of job scam again to someone else and so I'm warning people

be very careful about what jobs you take and respond to on Craigslist because if this could happen to me and my friend Sam and to the other employees who responded to that job it can happen to you find out if the job you're responding to and applying to is real. If it does look too good to be true, probably it. And if the job is in the middle of nowhere with no cell phone service, don't take the job. There's something wrong there. So yes, I just wanted to warn people.

I feel better knowing I did, but what happened to me will be with me for the rest of my life. Haunting me. terrifying me but hopefully if you follow my advice the same terrifying event that happened to me won't happen to you I'm a psychotherapist who specialises in the

unlocking of repressed memories my name is Dr Elizabeth Hayes I'm a psychotherapist who specialises in the unlocking of repressed memories a repressed memory for those of you who may not know is a rare psychological phenomenon in which memories or traumatic events

may be stored in the unconscious mind and blocked from normal conscious recall. In simple terms, the human mind can sometimes hide away memories of trauma or abuse, giving them the illusion as if the event had never happened. Some theorists claim this is a defence mechanism developed in the cases of young children who could probably not be able to mentally cope with a trauma from the experience. At first glance, this may not seem to be much of a concern. What you can't remember can't hurt you, right? For some people this may be the case,

but in others they find themselves responding to mental triggers, smells, sounds or phrases with no prior knowledge as to why they're having these experiences. For others, they may unknowingly stumble across the memory in their sleep. Have you ever had a dream that seems so vivid and real, yet upon awakening, you think back to it, unable to recall when in your life the scenario happened. What you simply dismissed as a strange dream

could have very well been a repressed memory unwittingly stumbled upon in your subconscious. It's weird, I know, but please, bear with me. I find the phenomenon fascinating, which is why I chose to specialize in this area of psychology in my studies and practices. Periodically, from time to time, I'm visited by patients from all over the country who believe they have experienced this phenomenon.

After being referred to me by their therapist who suspects their patients may have repressed memories from their childhood, it's then up to me to unlock these memories. Only after using social cues and making notes on their reactions to certain smells, sounds, and pictures, can I estimate where in their lifetime the repressed memory takes place? This is a slow process that can take up to a year before we even identify the timeframe of this memory. Once the right timeframe of the repressed memory is discovered, commonly between the ages of 4 to 12, I bring in what I call the Dream Screen, a device invented by the National Centre for Neural Applications, lent to me by the University of Illinois.

The appropriately nicknamed Dream Screen is a device that measures brain and brain. activity while you sleep. This data can be plugged into an algorithm that reconstruct your memory so that it could be played back in a recording. Subjects are first put into a stage of sleep called upon a goya. This is a semi-lucid stage of sleep that takes place at the moment between sleep and wakefulness so that I can communicate with them as I watch their memory unfold on the screen, live as if I myself with a living memory. While walking the subject through the memory for the first time, it's up to me to coax the subject through the entire memory,

asking the right questions, pointing out the hidden details, while making a conscious effort into not leading the subject too much as to incidentally plant false memories into their subconscious. This is an incredibly delicate procedure and requires absolute concentration on my behalf, something I've only been able to achieve after years of experience and practice. This entire process can take up to an entire month to complete, but the results are always worth it. Some patients were able to recover memories they lost years ago and finally be able to come to terms of the past and put years of not knowing to rest.

Other times, missing evidence from crimes and horrific injustices such as rape, torture and child abuse, able to be reported in the court of law so that the victim could finally get the justice they deserve. It is for moments like these and I continue to do what I do. It was only after viewing my most recent subjects results that I ended up having more questions than answers. Questions I'd never imagine asking myself. Questions, in hindsight, even I would much rather be left unanswered. The subject, Hugo was a 26-year-old male from Eden, New York. He was initially referred to me by his family therapist, after identifying gaps in his memories and recalling a strange, reoccurring dream he had no memories of in his childhood. The subject appeared healthy, both mentally and physically.

Aside from the obvious signs of sleep deprivation, he was in great shape for someone his age. During our initial interviews, he was able to recall memories from as far back as 1995 when the subject was only two years old. These memories were recorded and replayed to his living relatives and confirmed as being legit. This is very impressive and gave me high hopes for this being a quick and easy case. All there was left to do was find the key. I asked the subject if he could recall any forms of abuse during the case. his childhood years, either from the hands of a family member, a friend, or a stranger.

No, nothing like that. He replied with a forced smile on his face. Do you ever recall witnessing a traumatic event such as a traumatic accident or a murder take place? I asked him, curiously. No, nothing. As long as watching reality TV doesn't count, he remarked comically. I forced a smile at the bad joke and continued. Tell me about those dreams you've been having. I asked him with genuine curiosity. His smile was quickly replaced by a look of concern

as he unconsciously stole a glance over his shoulder and then back to me. Well, he started. It started happening last year. He said as he took a casual sip of water from his table and continued. I noticed a slight tremor in his hand as he placed the glass back onto the table. I've been having this dream on a field at the old family farm.

How do you know it was that particular location? I asked. According to your file, you move several times during your childhood. I'd recognize those blue skies and open farmland anyway, he said. My mother would complain all the time about one into the first. moved back to the city, but my father claimed that the open country air would do us kids some good. Hmm. What else do you remember? I asked, patiently. I, um, I remember standing in an open field walking towards something. Go on, I coasted. He sat there for a moment in silence, becoming

visibly tense. Then, um, well, things get weird, he said, and nervously. I'm all of a sudden a dark room I've never seen before and someone else is there. Do you remember who this person is? I asked him. No. No, I don't. He said. Well, um, if I can be a hundred percent honest, I don't remember anything else that happened. He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as if trying hard to remember. How old were you when you lived on that family farm? I asked him. Um, nine to ten years old, replied more confidently.

I lived with my grandparents at the time. It was only for, well, yeah, it was only for about a year or so. Anything else you could remember about your time there that you think could be related to this dream? I asked. Hmm, I don't know, the patient admitted. Yeah, that's where my memory begins to get a little foggy. All I know is that hours, even days after having the dream, I just can't shake this feeling of dread.

No matter how much I tried, just can't calm my nerves after that dream. I took a few notes and stood to my feet. Well, I guess the only way we're going to find out is through phase two. I moved the cart over to where the patient was sitting and began to prep the dream. screen. After leaning the subject seat back into a prone position, I administered the sedative to ease him into his semi-lucid state. After placing the electrodes to his temple and forehead, I slipped on a pair of headphones to the patient so that I could communicate with him from the

observation. After guiding the patient through verbal cues and building the scenario, I began to see the first sign of images on the screen. The memory started dark at first. But what began to look like an open wheat field came into view. I began to take in the sights. Blue skies, white clouds, the sway of the golden wheat blowing in the wind and appeared to be a small country home in the distance. Okay, now tell me, where are you standing right now? I asked the subject. The farm, the subject mumbled. the one I grew up on. As he spoke, I took in the surroundings

as they began to become clearer as the subject began to remember. Now, tell me who else was with you, my product. My, um, my friend, no, no, my cousin, Katie, the subject said. Good, you're doing great, I said encouragingly as a figure appeared

walking next to the subject in his memory. Now, describe your cousin. What did she look like? Dirty blonde hair. Brown eyes freckles on her nose. The subject said confidently as Katie came into view exactly how he described her. She looked to be around eight years old.

Come on, Huey. Kate said excitedly. Can you see it? Your farmhouse. Look, we're almost there. Can you tell me about this farmhouse? I asked the subject. Yeah, it was an old abandoned house built on my grandfather's property.

It was built before my family bought the property, and just lived a few acres away from it. He mumbled quietly. Well, Kate and I wanted to check it out. We were planning on making of that new clubhouse. I spotted a small smile on the subject's face from the window of the observation room as he began to remember. We had a backpack full of stuff. Action figures, comic books, a couple of Snickers bars.

He said quietly. We were driven out of our old clubhouse in the hayloft after a family of raccoons moved in. Now, describe the old farmhouse to me. I asked him as the blurry image of the house began to come into contrast. Two stories. Peel and dark blue paint, dash roof, old tire swinging tree out front. He told me. The image now became clear as the farmhouse came.

fully into view, down to every detail he described of him. Come on, Huey, cake back in. Let's see what's inside. As she walked to the front door, the subject's eyes darted to a window on the top floor. The figure quickly moved out of view that appeared to be watching them. Wait, I blurted. Who was that? The subject's eyebrows followed in confusion.

I don't remember, he said after a long pause. I let it go and then let the subject continue. Okay, now, what happened to you after you went inside of the farmhouse? What did you find inside? I asked. Uh, nothing, the subject said slowly. It was cleaned out, no people, no furniture, not even a single scrap of litter. The dream suddenly grew up.

darker as the subject now appeared in a small, dimly lit room. Light pulled out from the creases in between the boarded up windows. "'Isn't this great?' Kate said excitedly. "'We can have campouts. "'We can have picnics, we can even invite our friends over it.' Her voice was cut off as a low creek sounded from upstairs. "'What? What was that?' Kate said nervously. It's probably another family of recants. I heard Kate say is the subject's eyes trailed to the top of the stands. Oh, wait, I remember now.

The subject said, shakily. Who was it? I asked cautiously. No. Not who. The subject said with genuine fear in his voice. It was a... His voice trailed off as a figure appeared from the top.

top of the stairs. I leaned in close, trying my best to make out the figure standing there. Stay with me, I coax the subject. Describe what you saw inside of that farmhouse. The subject didn't say anything. His facial features remained taunt, but his lips quivered. My eyes went back to the screen as the humanoid figure began to warm down the stairs. Huey? Kate's voice said softly. and nervously. Who is... The figure suddenly dropped onto all fours

and dashed down the stairs with alarming sleeve. Teeth, the subject shouted. White eyes, pale skin. The figure suddenly stopped. Inches away from the subject's face. The heart began to race as the image cleared up as the subject began to remember.

Most of what I could make out of the face, of the figure was only what was visible in the small slivers of light from the boarded-up windows. Pale skin, gleaming white teeth and brown receded gums from a mouth whose lips were pulled so far back they almost appeared to not exist. His eyes were also rolled so far back that the pupils and irises were not even visible, showing only the whites of his eyes. His nose was nothing but two slits as it breathed heavily only inches away from the little boy's face. The being wore no clothes and appeared to be human, yet showed no discernible signs of gender. For a long time, I watched in complete shock as the figure appeared unmoving.

The slits were the nose should have been flaring with every breath. Its teeth began to click as if in curiosity, as a move. movement was spotted from behind the being. Oh, Katie, no, the subject screamed in unison with the child in the dream. Kate stood behind the figure and swung a two-by-four at the being's head. The creature spun around with lightning speed,

catching the little girl's wrist in his hands and lashed out with the other, slicing a clean cut into the child's stomach with its clawed hand. Kate fell onto her back, hands covering the open wound, and began to whimper, terrified, subdued sobs as the creature slowly crawled on top of her.

His face now inches from hers. Leave her alone! The subject screamed once again in unison with his younger self as he made his way forward, arms outstretched, as if to push the creature off his cousin. A creature once again moved with blinding speed, knocking the boy across the room with a mule kick to land roughly against the opposite wall.

The creature once again drew its attention back to the young girl lying beneath it. It slowly leaned forward. His mouth only inches away from the young girl's ear. It then stopped, and a hissing whisper could be heard from the creature's mouth. Kate looked up in confusion as the creature then broke into a sprint, dashing out the open door faster than any living creature I've ever seen move in my entire life. The screen went dark as an alarm went off in the observation room. The subject began to shake violently, as if in a seizure.

I ran forward, shut down the machine, and quickly removed the electrodes from the subject's head. Katie, no, leave her alone. The subject cried as the thrashing became less and less, and the patient slipped into unconsciousness. I'll be honest with you. This wasn't the first time I'd seen this creature, using their dream screen. The first time I dismissed it as simply a pseudo-memory.

Sometimes a subject's subconscious would replace the person who caused the trauma with a childhood fear, like the monster in their closet, or a creature from a horror movie that scared them as a kid, creating a pseudo-memory. The second time I saw it, I knew it was so much more than that. Several times before, I've seen this thing locked deep into a subject's locked memories, as if its appearance itself was so horrifying that the human brain automatically retracted the memory into the deepest parts of the subject's memories as to keep them from going insane. Each subject completely different, unrelated with no discernible trends or patterns in physical appearance, mental health or age. Not know who or what this thing is, but I have dedicated my entire career to finding out what it is.

It is. Every case leads to dead ends, but this case was different. Never in any of my past subject's memories have I heard this creature speak. Even in my most recent reports, I could not make out exactly what was said. Earlier this month, I contacted the most recent subject's cousin from this memory, Kate. After much convincing on my behalf, I talked to him to visiting my office in Washington, D.C. to have her memories examined. The now fully grown Kate was also experiencing similar dreams as the most previous subject prior to our first meeting. Her resulting memory once unlocked and parallel to that of her cousins. She also bore an old scar on her stomach in the same place the creature had scratched her in the memory, proving its legitimacy. The only difference

between that of Kate's memory, because the creature's voice was now clear as dead. I'll never forget the words I heard from Kate's memory. The sound of the creature's hissing voice still fresh in my mind. What I heard it say to that little girl almost 17 years ago. Stop searching for me, Dr. Hay. And so once again, we reach the end of tonight's podcast. My thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful. stories and to you for taking the time to listen.

Now, I'd ask one small favor of you. Wherever you get your podcast wrong, 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.