Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S4 Ep166: Episode 166: Urban Legend Horror Stories

Episode Date: April 25, 2024

 If you want to take ownership of your health, try AG1 and get a FREE 1-year supply of Vitamin D AND 5 Free AG1 Travel Packs with your first purchase. Go to www.drinkAG1.com/creepen     First up this evening we have ‘Never Go Looking for Urban Legends.’ This is followed by ‘My dream home won't stop bleeding’, and we round off this evening with ‘I Made a Horrifying Discovery in my Brother’s Basement.’ https://www.reddit.com/user/MammothFormal1/ Tonight’s final nightmarish tale of terror is both parts of the bizarre and wonderful ‘Jeff the Killer: 2015’, a fantastic story by K. Banning Kellum, kindly shared with me via the Creepypasta Wiki and narrated here for you all under the conditions of the CC-BY-SA license: https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/User:Banningk1979 https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/Jeff_the_Killer_2015

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These stories often passed down through generations, further lines between fiction and reality, creating a sense of unease and suspense. Additionally, urban legends often exploit common fears such as the unknown, the supernatural, or the dangers lurking in everyday situations. Ultimately, urban legends serve as cautionary tales, reminding us to the dangers that may learn. in the shadows of our own communities, and fueling our primal instinct to stay vigilant and protect ourselves from perceived threats. As we'll see in tonight's two 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 in horrific imagery. If that sounds like your kind of thing, then let's begin. Never go looking for urban legend. If you're looking for a story with a happy or otherwise fulfilling ending, I'd advise you to look elsewhere.

Ah with that being said, if you need a stern warning why we shouldn't dabble in the unknown, listen on. The autumn of 1997 was an eventful time for me. For the umpteenth time, my life changed as I found myself ripped away from my friends when my family moved yet again. It was also the year I came face to face with the wither.

This time our destination was the suburbs of Pennsylvania, This was a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of city life. The first time in my life, I could see trees from my window, not just trees lining a filthy street either, but an actual forest with animals. I was a happy child growing up. I enjoyed all the perks of being from a wealthy family and make friends easily. The only common disturbance came when being moved from city to city on account of my father's work as a sales agent.

We never stayed in one place for more than a few years. Despite fitting in well, having to make new friends each time we move proved to be an emotionally taxing task. For years I anxiously awaited my senior year, only for disappointment to find me again. I was just getting settled into my previous school in Virginia when my parents set me down to reveal we'd be moving again.

I wasn't enthused by the idea of starting over during the biggest year of my life to date. Like clockwork, I found myself being called the new kid once more. Being the new kid did have its advantages, though. The one I was always the centre of attention, at least for about a week, until gossip and rumours dispelled the shroud of mystery surrounding me. You see, you're not the new kid when everyone learns your name. But to my surprise, Santa's... delight. I immediately made friends with the most popular guy in the school, Charlie Renick. Without

fail, I found myself invited to all the best house parties every single weekend. Now, Charlie loved party, so much so that it was the only thing he ever talked about. Well, this made it even more surprising when he spent the entire lunch period nerding out and regurgitating an urban legend about a witch from the 1700s. Now, according to Charlie, the wither was a soothsayer whose inaccurate fortune-telling got her beat to near death by local villages the hate-driven mob didn't know what care that she was pregnant though after her inevitable miscarriage the solemn woman locked herself away in her cabin to wither and die charlie's agitation was palpable when he hurt me a laugh off his elaborate fairy tale as if it was a lousy

joke or we'll see who's laughing after we go through the ritual tomorrow, Charlie said, clearly annoyed by my antics. A ritual? What? You're like 12? This is the dumbest fucking thing I've ever heard, I retorted, still egging him on. I'd gotten him going by that point. Charlie spent the next ten minutes describing the ritual he'd learned about from his stoner cousin Jerry in great detail. I didn't take his tale very seriously, Jerry was 37 and lived in his mom's basements, after all. But in hindsight, I should have. According to Charlie, the legend says that if you drive for exactly 27 minutes on Lost Hollow Road at 1.13 a.m., your car will stall. At that point, you need to exit your vehicle and walk westward through the woods for three miles.

At precisely, 244 a.m., you'll reach the cabin of the wither. Don't stop walking until you reach the dwelling. Once you arrive, you're to knock on the door twice before turning around the way you came, as if you were leaving. No, you don't actually leave, though. Instead, a voice will beckon you inside. Upon entering the wither, we'll ask you to solve a riddle. If you answer the riddle correctly, you get to make a wish, and no matter how absurd the wish is, it'll come true. Marching through the woods in search of ghosts was not my idea of a fun Saturday night, but I didn't want to see Charlie getting mauled by a bear either. I let out a sigh and against my better judgment, I agreed.

Fine, I'll go with you, but only so you don't have to trek around the woods alone at odd hours. The obnoxious ringing of the lunch bell cut our conversation short, and after shaking Charlie's hand to seal the deal, I headed off to my afternoon classes. I spent the rest of chemistry and physics daydreaming about what I'd wish for if the ritual was legitimate. What I wish for an endless fortune, a movie star wife, fame. On the off chance the wither had turned out to be real, she could grant me any of those. The next day flew by as I concocted my exact wish and read up on different riddles. I also spent over an hour peering at various maps, trying to find Lost Hollow Road.

No matter how hard I looked, I couldn't find it anywhere. I concluded that it must be one of the many unmarked gravel roads going up into the mountains. From the time to pick up Charlie finally rolled around, he emerged from his house with a bulky camera, presumably to take a picture of the fable cabin in the woods. Jerry said it was this one, Charlie said, pointing to a road highlighted red on his map. This confirmed my suspicion. and it was indeed a mountain road and was also most likely private property. We pulled up to the unmarked gravel road at 102am and cut off the motor to wait.

Eventually we got talking about what we'd wish for. Charlie said he'd wished to be richer than Bill Gates and monopolised the next ten minutes describing how he'd spend his billions. His rambling left me no time to tell him about my wish, but I let it go because mine wasn't anywhere near as interesting anyway. So at exactly 1.13 a.m., I began the drive down Lost Hollow Road. After around 10 minutes, the radio was cutting in and out. I chalked this up to the elevation and the dense forest canopy above.

By the 15-minute mark, my headlights were flickering in and out, and I became worried that we'd have to turn around, or I could barely see the road. Despite this strange mechanical malfunction, we pressed on down the ever-nowering road. After a few more minutes of driving, it was clear that turning around wasn't an option anymore. Can't say for sure, but each time the lights went out, I swear I could see erratic, jerky movements ahead of me. Charlie was becoming restless by the 20-minute mark. The condition of the road was getting worse at a rapid pace.

It was crystal clear to both of us that nobody used this road anymore, let alone high school kids in Honda Civics. Maybe we should turn back, he suggested in a crestfallen tone. Just where do you suggest I do that, you moron? Which side of the mountain do you want me to drive off? I snapped at him. After the harsh scolding, Charlie began smouldering quietly in the passenger seat. Despite being mad as hell at the situation we were in,

I pressed on, ignoring the reptilian-like sense of self-preservation ingrained in us all. I continued braving the winding, crater-ridden road, for a few more minutes before my car stored and came to a halt in the middle of the road. A quick check of my watch revealed that, to my absolute horror, 27 minutes had passed since we started down the road. Charlie got out of the car and began walking into the tree line. Something wasn't adding up. The ritual was working too well.

Are you insane? I yelled at him. petrified at the prospect of following him. He didn't answer, and instead continued to wander deeper into the woods. With great reluctance, I followed suit. As we ventured blindly into the pitch-black forest, I could tell right away there was something wrong with the place. No animals or insects were making a noise.

Instead, there was only an eerie hum that befell the entire forest. After what felt like forever, my heart sank. as a derelict-looking cabin appeared in the maze of trees. The orange shield of a candle illuminated one window as we crept towards it. There it is, Charlie shouted. Charlie lifted his camera and snapped a quick photo of the caoing, stuffing the Polaroid in his pocket. Oh, it is real, I thought to myself,

as I swallowed hard and tried to muster up every drop of courage in my body. This time it was me who wandered forward, checking my watch yet again the candlelight radiating from the window I saw that it was now 24 a.m. It was now or never. Without missing a beat

I gave the door two firm knocks with my open palm before turning around to see Charlie staring onwards slack jawed. You may enter an ancient sounding voice hissed us from inside.

Charlie and I lurched through the threshold in abject terror. The interior of the one-room cabin was plain and otherwise unremarkable, except for the single chair in the centre. A dim, lone candle stood next to the chair, illuminating all but the corners of the structure. For the life of me, I couldn't tell which corner of the room the voice was coming from. I couldn't help but wretch at the horrible stench. The smell of sulphur and rotting meat tickled my nostrils as the disembodied voice spoke again. Sit and answer well. Before I could react, Charlie pushed me aside and sat in the chair.

He scanned the room anxiously as a dark, thin figure emerged from the shadows. The figure that emerged and stood before Charlie was once human but wasn't anymore. She was rotten, her flesh melted from her bones. What remained of her ancient skin clung to her fragile bones like plastic rat. Where her eyes should have been, there were dark, eyeless caverns. It's real, I thought, overwhelmed by a sixth sense of dread and anticipation. Make your wish, but do not speak it. answer true and I shall grant it the wither rasped the room froze in silence for a moment before she spoke yet again

i am lovely in the sun but wilt when left in the dark what am i charlie looked onwards in shock before letting out a cackle and saying seriously that's the infamous riddle i took in the pungent air and breathed the deep sigh of relief. A flower, Charlie decreed proudly. In that instant, Charlie's confident sneer twisted into a look of sheer agony as he collapsed to the floor, writhing in pain as his teeth fell from his mouth. His nails were next to go as they slid from his fingers. Then his flesh blackened with lesions that oozed pus and thick black blood.

finally his flesh turned to a liquid and dripped from his bones in chunks I froze and watched in horror as my best friend withered away into a heap of human sludge I knew then that Charlie had guessed wrong and I only hoped I could guess correctly within a few seconds nothing remained of Charlie except a pile of gruel and bow my heart raced as I prepared my to die as best I could. The wither had turned to me next and asked the same riddle that sealed Charlie's gruesome fate. Or to this day I couldn't tell you what force compelled me to say it. But before I could even think of an answer, I blurted out. The wither! The agonising death that I was awaiting never came. Instead, the world around me went cold and black. The force of slamming into the wooden floor woke me up, and I frantically scanned my surroundings but instead of the wither's cabin I was in a normal looking

bedroom laying on a hardwood floor to my surprise I wasn't dead yet there was no pungent odor no pile of remains or any whispering crones I had no idea where I was but I was thankful to be alive instead there was the smell of freshly cooked bacon and the soft voice of a woman calling out from downstairs Charlie, breakfast is ready. I'll skip a beat as I remembered Charlie with his camera as I reached into my pocket and poured out a crinkled up photograph

of a dimly lit cabin in the forest. And at that moment, I knew, I knew that I'd answered correctly and gotten my wish. I was now the most popular kid in school. To this day, I'm not sure if the hardest part of being Charlie is actually living his life, or if it was seeing my own missing persons' posters plastered around town.

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My dream home won't stop bleeding. I grew up poor, no two ways about it. My family did everything they could to get by, but it was rarely enough. When I was a kid, the other children bullied me no end. I didn't have many friends. My parents were never around either, on account of working at. at least two jobs at a time. I couldn't blame them. They were trying to keep whatever shitty apartment we happened to live in at the time. It never worked though. The eviction notices

were constant. We could never seem to get ahead in life. The fondest memory of my childhood was when my parents bought their first home. I was 16 at the time I wanted nothing more than to belong somewhere. This was right after my father got a promotion to Foreman at the construction company he worked for. Well, I didn't live there. long, not even two years, but for the first time in my life I found as though I belonged somewhere. My parents were happy too, for once in our life we didn't have to worry about money. I left my parents home when I graduated high school to attend college on an academic scholarship. I had always done well in school despite my unpopularity.

I would later graduate at the top of my class and begin my career in finance. After a few years of working my ass off and living like a gloistered monk, I say, I'd saved enough money to get a home of my own. I long for the feeling that I'd felt when my parents had bought their house. In no time I found out that searching for homes was an abysmal disappointment. I even got to experience a very familiar feeling. Everything I wanted was well out of my price range. Demoralised, I was ready to consign myself to a dump of a place,

so long as it was close to work. Be a step above my efficiency apartment after all. But then I discovered a glimmer of hope. I found a gorgeous old home in my price range. The only unfortunate thing being its distance from my job. Well, I could live with that. It was a real steel. The house shown in the ad was constructed in a breathtaking Victorian style.

He stood two stories tall and was painted in an eye-catching shade of crimson. There was an iron fence outside in a post where an old-timey sign had once hung. It was filled with long hallways, high ceilings and twisting spiral staircases. It even had a chandelier. It was everything that I'd ever wanted. The events following my discovery of the adder all, a blur. I closed on the house and moved in within a month of finding it. The seller was an elderly woman.

She seemed keen on selling it as soon as possible. I bought the home for $40,000 under value. It was the deal of a lifetime. Moving all alone was a pain in the ass, but otherwise uneventful. I didn't even have enough possessions to fill the house. Several rooms were left empty. For the first week I was in a constant state of awe. It felt even better than when my parents had bought their house.

I basked in the warm feeling of homeliness that I was experiencing. But then the strange occurrences started. Small things being out of place characterised these first incidents. never an item that you'd expect to misplace them like car keys or my wallet oh they were strange things like the plunger ending up in the dining room or pillows turning up in the kitchen following these strange happenings i began double checking my locks every night i suspected one of the neighborhood kids had been pranking me while i was at work well i admit this was a bit of a stretch considering that my nearest neighbor was half a mile away to my surprise it continued to occur Over time the situation got even weirder. Cabinet doors would open by themselves. The occasional tap would come on without warning. Sometimes lights would turn off.

Every now and again the thermostat would adjust itself. I didn't know what to make of this. I'm not superstitious, so I figured that someone was getting in through the windows. And this, of course, allowed me. But it was easy enough to remedy. Upon inspection of the windows, I found some of them unlocked. I dealt with this in swift fashion by installing locks on every window, even on the second floor. No one would get into my house now.

Over the course of the following weeks, things got worse, much worse. Door slammed shut, footsteps roamed the halls, and I swear I could hear whispers at night. I hadn't considered the possibility of my house being haunted until one day, when the walls started bleeding. I was sitting at my kitchen table when it first happened. From the corner of my eye I noticed a wet crimson substance oozing from the walls in the hallway. When I turned to face it, I saw, plain as day, that there was blood seeping from my wall. It wasn't a deluge of blood, though.

It was as though the house had broken out in a steady, heavy sweat. In a state of shock, I tried to wipe it away, but as I did, it disappeared as the ragged touched it. It wasn't corporeal at all. Instead, it was like it was an illusion. As I tried to wipe it away, the phenomena would begin somewhere else. The blood collected on the floor and pulled on the hardwood floor before vanishing. I was never religious or superstitious, but I ran to my cell phone with haste and dialed up a local church. A man named Father Forelli picked up. The bleeding stopped while I was on the phone with a priest. Still, I explained. I explained. to him that something was wrong and that I needed help.

He comforted me over the phone and showed up the following day to bless the house. It surprised me considering that I wasn't a member of his congregation, nor was I religious. He didn't even know me. It turned out that it hadn't been the first time he'd been to this house. The old woman who'd owned the house before me had many similar complaints at first. This greatly reassured me I now knew that I wasn't crazy. Still, though, I didn't like what he had to say one bit. He told me that there is something wrong with the house on a fundamental level,

that a previous owner must have committed heinous deeds. This was a mortal issue, one that God had no whim to fix. Despite Father Ferelli's reservations, he did as I asked. He went from room to room, blessing the entire house. Upon completion of this task, he told me that moving was the only actual solution. According to the priest, my house was very sick. According to him, something truly horrible had to have happened here. In the weeks following the blessing, things only got worse. The whispers turned into crystal clear voices. They conversed with each other at all hours. They

ruminated over what sounded like outdated medical procedures. After a few weeks of pondering what Father Forelli had said, I decided I was going to move away. No harm had come to me, but I was unwilling to wait around for it to happen. My house was clearly haunted. Not long after deciding I began seeing people in my house. They wore Victorian-era clothes and like the walls bled from every orifice. They always appeared to be mutilated in different ways. Some were missing limbs, some had no eyes, tongue or teeth, while others were disembowl.

No matter what fate these beings met, they always had a hollow, emotionless expression. It was truly haunting, especially when I'd catch one in the mirror. The horrific entities would wander the halls around the clock. They never spoke to me or even acknowledged my existence. The only thing they ever did was wander the halls as if lost. Not sure when it started, but at some point I would walk into rooms and see them doing abhorrent things. who would mutilate each other with a slew of tools, all while wearing blank expressions. Once I went into my bathroom to brush my teeth, only to be greeted by the empty visage of one of these spectral men.

He had long hair, a thin moustache, a scarred face, and wore a tall black top hats. In his right hand he brandished a rusty, knob-looking haxel. I wanted to run more than anything, but instead of running, I stood there paralysed. It was as if something had rooted me to the floor. I was aghast and horrified at what I saw happen next. He approached a woman in a long white dress who was kneeling over my bathtub. She held out a dainty hand to him, which he took, and, to my horror, carved through from fingertip to wrist with his saw.

He hacked through her flesh and bone, his face contorting in an unnaturally wide grin. his grin became so wide that his mouth fell open, revealing that his mouth was slit from ear to ear. Despite his enjoyment, he remained silent as death. I was still in shock as the woman got up. Her face bore no emotion at all. Instead of writhing in agony, she turned and walked down the hall, allowing thick, dark blood to pour from her mangled hand as she descended the spiral staircase. The sadistic man then stood up, sore in hand. He made his way down the hall shortly afterward, walking directly through me.

As his spectral form passed through mine, a visceral chill shot through my body. This caused me to shiver violently. He didn't even realize or seemed to care that I watched him commit this vile deed. At that moment, I found myself freed from my temporary stasis. I turned from my bathroom, sprinted down the stairs to leave this forsaken house. I couldn't take the never-ending horrors anymore. When I went to grab my car keys, I found only an ancient-looking photo

where they usually sat on my kitchen counter. The sepia turn resembled old Wild West photos that I remembered from history passes. Upon closer inspection of the photo, I noticed that it was the same man I'd seen moments ago. He was standing in front of my home, I dressed head to toe in all black. He held the same rusty hacksaw.

or it used to split the woman's hand. Next to him was a wooden sign that said, Dr. Johannes Fleischman, general surgeon. Being so engrossed in the photo, I didn't notice that my keys had been sitting next to it. After snapping back to reality, I grabbed them and got into my car. While in my car, I called the real estate company.

I needed to figure out how to contact the old woman who'd sold me the house. She had to have answers. I confirmed my theory when I got contact information for the previous owner from the realtor. After a several hour-long conversation, I found out that my house had been a doctor's office in the 1850s. It served as something much worse later on. Dr. Johannes Fleischman opened his practice in 1851. He worked out of the house until 1857.

That was when the authorities caught him performing amputations without cause. He would give false medical advice and tell people the only way to cure them was to operate. Disgraced, Fleischman quit practicing medicine and instead opened a new business. His new career was much more macabre than even what he did beforehand. Fleischman's new business was a parlour, but people go to to spectate torches. It's alleged that there are dozens of bodies buried on the property, but no one ever cared to look. Oh, the good doctor was cunning. He only ever took those who didn't have family in the surrounding towns.

Still, despite his careful measures, one family did discover what was going on. The doctor had gotten careless in 1873 and kidnapped a young girl named Annie. Annie's father was an unhinged war veteran who long suspected the doctor's crimes. One night he broke into the home and, legend has it, he caught the doctor in the act. and his father stabbed Fleshman almost one hundred times, but that was after cutting his mouth from ear to ear with a glass bottle. None of the crimes have ever been confirmed, though. According to the town records, Dr. Johannes Fleshman died peacefully in his home.

No one ever asked question, seeing as he was loath by the townsfolk. The woman who sold me the home disclosed none of this for obvious reasons. She informed me that the apparition. are harmless but they never stop she also told me that they would get worse the longer i stayed and to repair myself for that it's obvious that these events were true the doctor's victims had never left this house and they never will instead damnation and ceaseless torment await them in the house's haunted haunts well i'm trying to sell the house it's been on the market it for almost a year now and no one's showing any interest i don't care about losing money on it at this point

i just want it gone the only problem is that i can't bring myself to not disclose the home's sorted parts every time a potential buyer arrives i tell them the truth i let them know that the house is sick so for now the home remains my problem the apparitions are only getting worse and day by day i can feel sanity creeping up on me. Hey Ontario, come on down to BedMGM Casino and check out our newest exclusive. The Price is Right Fortune Pick. Don't miss out. Play exciting casino games based on the iconic game show. Only at BetMGM.

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Visit specksavers.ca to learn more. Made a horrifying discovery in my brother's basement. Growing up, my twin brother David and I were always very close. Our parents divorced when we were teenagers, leading to our separation. I went to live with our mother while David remained with our father. During this separation, we did our best to stay in contact. But our parents' avoidance of each other meant that we didn't see much of the other. When we graduated from high school, we attended the same college and became close yet again,

even being roommates for a few semesters. Oh, I couldn't take it after a while, though. He was always such a clean freak and had some OCD tendencies. My brother and I didn't share his OCD sentiments. I'm not a dirty or crew person by any means, but my brother and I have very different living habits. Eventually this led to me moving in with the good. girl I was seeing. Not my finest hour, but it was a lesson learned. David reached out to me last Thursday, asking me to watch his new house while he was out of town on a business trip. Not a daunting task in the

slightest, but it meant a lot to him. He just moved into a new house and was ecstatic about it. I agreed without hesitation. Now, in addition to his OCD, my brother has always been a bit paranoid, a bit of a weirdo because of his paranoia he upon graduation from college moved into one of those suburbs where everyone's home looks the same the development even has a neighborhood watch made of of like-minded paranoid carins trivial things like that reassured my brother to an extent but he still had his entire property wired with cameras even inside the house it took me several passes of the neighborhood to determine which house was his i really wasn't kidding when I said they all looked the same.

Eventually I found his house. I parked up my beat-up old car in the garage. I didn't want to leave it in the driveway, unless the neighbours determined it to be an eyesore and call the cops on me. Reaching for the doorknob, I noticed a handwritten note on the door. It read,

Remove your shoes, please. What a freaking weirdo, I thought. Upon entering his house, I discovered that it was in pristine condition. though even plastic covering still on the furniture. The paint on the walls was pearly white. It appeared almost as though the house was unoccupied. In the kitchen I found yet another note on the counter.

There was a list of rules written on it. Russell, please make yourself at home, but please respect these rules. It would make me feel a lot better if you did. One, please remove your shoes. Two, please ensure the doors remain locked at all times. Three, please watch for any suspicious activity on the cameras. Four, do not remove any of the plastic coverings from their furniture. Five, please stay out of the basement.

It's not finished yet, and the contractor says it's still a mess. We wouldn't want anyone getting hurt. Still the same old date. Locking the door I'd enter through. I made my way to the fridge to get a beer. Well, I planned ahead. I made sure David picked me up a case of my favourite brew in exchange for me watching the house. The beer in hand, I made my way to the living room to find something on TV.

To my surprise, there were two TVs. The first one was small and mounted to the wall. You had several camera feeds displayed on it, including one that showed me sitting on the couch, looking at the monitor. God, I wish he could just be normal. Well, I admit it. It was weird watching myself on the camera feed, but surveillance wasn't new behaviour on David's part. David's second TV is one of the massive, curved, 4K ultra-HD ones.

The set up was pretty sweet, and I had to admit, my goofy-ass twin brother had a nice place. The only annoying part about staying in the brand-new home was the fact that I kept sticking to his count. On account of the plastic cover. Everything was great. The beers were cold and the TV was crystal clear. That is, until that maddening, dripping sound started.

It was so damn agitating. It was as though someone was standing right next to me, slowly ringing out a sopping wet towel. Turning to the camera monitor, I saw nothing out of the ordinary. I just turned the TV up to drown out the sound of the annoying noise. It worked for a short time until it got louder. I was getting tired and knew I wouldn't be able to sleep with that annoying noise. After nearly an hour of searching the house for leaky pipes, I gave up momentarily.

And I remembered that the basement was still undergoing renovations. Maybe he had a crap pipe. If that were the case, it wouldn't be right for me to just let it go. It could cause some expensive damage if it was left unattended. The basement itself was a large, empty room with unfinished dry wall and concrete floors. I went to flick the light switch on, but it didn't work. I thinking the lights had yet to be wired, I pulled out my cell phone and turned on my flashlight. Using it to scan the room, I noticed a dripping, exposed pipe right above an oddly placed porcelain tub in the room's corner.

I've always been handy, and I keep a set of tools in my truck at all times, so I decided I'd fix the leaky pipe for David's. Within a few minutes I'd fixed it and was ready to go back to binge watching TV. But as I turned round, I noticed something bizarre. In the far corner, there was a small box TV sitting on the floor. To my surprise, it had turned on its own. Crackling static filled the screen and caused it to illuminate that part of the room. Overwhelmed by curiosity, I made my way over to it. It wasn't like David to keep an old TV around at all, let alone in the corner of his basement on the cold concrete floor.

There was no way he was actually using the thing. As I got closer, I noticed a VCR along with a stack of VHS tapes sitting next to it. Hmm. I wonder what that weirder was watching down here. Probably some kind of nasty 80s porn. The tapes were all unlabeled, and I was curious, so I slipped one in. It was just surveillance footage from around the house, bizarre as things go.

I fast-forwarded through it for a while, saw it was just a camera-feed footage from his backyard. It was uneventful, but it still made me feel very uneasy. What would David possibly have to be so worried about? After fast-forwarding some more, I grew bored and flipped on another tape. God, I wish. I hadn't. This tape started off much like the first one, just boring surveillance footage of the

backyard. Then a woman walked across the yard. Next thing I knew a figure in all black grabbed her from behind and forced her to the ground. He seemed to stab her in the neck with something and she quickly stopped resisting. The dark figure picked her up off the ground and walked right towards the camera. Heart sank into the pit of my stomach. The camera sits above the back door. The tape cut to black, and I turned to walk out of the basement. I was going to go home now to call the police. But as I turned my back, the TV screen lit up again.

The most horrifying shriek I'd ever heard to say up my ears, spinning around. I saw a ghastly sight on the small screen. The camera pointed towards a naked. struggling woman, changed in a bathtub. She was badly beaten and cuts adorned her entire body. Moments later, the man in black came into the room and poured what appeared to be honey all over her.

And he then dumped a bucket of large cockroaches into the tub. The bugs swarmed the woman crawling all over her new body as she screamed at the top of her lungs, begging for help. I sat there, peering mindlessly into the TV. both engrossed and sickened by what I was watching. The video then transitioned to a time-lapse video of the bugs eating her. The timestamp on the film showed that it took two days for her to stop twitching. She screamed for a while, at least until the bugs crawled down her throat and began eating her from the inside out.

It took four days for the insects to devour her flesh completely. That poor woman was eaten alive by roaches. And this tape was in my brother's house. I was speechless, unwilling to put two and two together. I wanted to call the police right then, but macabre curiosity got the better of me as I slid the next tape into the VCR. Somehow the next tape was even worse,

probably because it proved without doubt that my brother was responsible for these horrific killings. The next tape saw him drag a woman from his living room, into the basement's direction. The tape cut to black again, much like the first one. This time, I waited for it to resume. There was a woman in the same tub as the first tape, bound in the same way.

Suddenly a man appeared in the frame. It was my brother. He wasn't wearing a mask this time. After having his way with a poor woman, he started raving about how she was dirty and needed cleansed. I couldn't watch any more, but for some sick reason I couldn't force myself to look away. Like a zombie I started onward as my brother dumped bleach all over the woman and scrubbed her with a steel wall. I'll spare the details of where on her body he started, but by the end of it, her body resembled spaghetti.

It appeared as though she passed out from blood loss when my brother began violating her again, smearing himself in her blood as he did. I had to hold back from vomiting as he did this. How would I call this lunatic my brother? And somehow the woman began screaming again. David screamed furiously at her, demanding that she shut up. When she didn't, he picked up a hatchet from the floor and began hacking her apart with an anvil, a murderous glint in his eye.

Finally, the crazed hacking ceased, and David began throwing her body parts into heaven. plastic bags before rushing over to the camera to turn it off. Had he always been like this? A deranged murderer. Feverishly I slid another tape into the VCR, hoping to find the answer. The next tape was the worst yet. Showed David yet again kidnapping a woman, violating her and torturing her. But the way he did it still haunts me.

He began by pulling out her teeth with a pair of plight. I could hit the cracking of bone and the twisting of gums as he did it. Next he took a small paring knife and scalped her before walking out of the room with his totem in hand. This woman continued to scream for at least 30 minutes before David entered the frame again. This time he was wearing her scalp and hair. The long black hair partially obscured his face as he approached her while holding a drill. I kicked the TV hard, knocking it over and shattering the same. screen. I couldn't take it anymore. I could still hear the screams coming from the TV,

even though the image was no longer there. I rushed up the stairs, not even thinking to grab the six more tapes still sitting on the floor, which would surely be damning evidence. I made it to my truck and booked it out of the garage and prepared to dial 911, but before I could, my cell phone lit up with a text from David's, leaving so soon. It read. I ignored the message and called the police right away. They had to get a search warrant. That process took too long and as a result they never found the tapes. This whole piece of evidence retrieved was a broken tube television.

I haven't spoken to my brother in seven years. I don't plan on speaking to him ever again. He deserves to rot for the things he's done. I'm writing this because I just received a package in the mail. It was a tape. The footage of it was of me sitting in that god-forsaken basement, staring into the TV. Scrawled on the tape in Sharpie Woods. Seven years ago, today, Jeff the killer, 2015.

Manderville, the day Jeffrey Woods and his family arrived at their new home. The sky was overcast and the weather was muggy. The grey sky seemed to punctuate his mood. Jeff was not thrilled to be here. Their new home was beautiful, though, a true example of his father's newfound success, but still it wasn't the home he'd known. A week after they'd settled in,

Jeff and Liu woke up early. The sky was a crisp and gorgeous blue, and although the Louisiana heat was playing its usual cruel tricks, the brothers decided that a morning bike ride to explore the area would be just the right ticket to combat the slight pangs of homesickness that they'd both been experiencing over the last week. I miss home, Liu blurted out, as Jeff was smearing salsa on the microwave burrito

that would serve as his breakfast. Me too, Liu, but I guess this is home now, so we just sort of have to make the most of it. I know, but all of our friends and stuff are back in New Orleans. Remember that building we'd always sneak up onto the roof off and watch the city lights come on. I miss that, Liu responded. sounding down.

Yeah, and Zem video. The owner knew us and would always let us rent our rated movies without our parents. He'd always hook us up with a free video game rental if we got a few movies. Yeah, I miss that too, but Liu, we have to... Liu interrupted. I know, we have to make the most out of this, but still, this place just seems so fake. Mom and Dad still treat us like we weren't even here.

Yep, they do. I was sort of hoping the new house would improve their mood, but what can we do? Liu had no answer. Jeff finished his breakfast and the two boys left the house to mount their bikes and explore around a bit more. As it turned out, the subdivision they'd moved into was rather close to a cluster of stores in a small shopping centre. Village shopping centre was the name of the short row of businesses. Within these were a pizza-hearted, Chinese restaurant. a tobacco store, a sprint store, and what Jeff and Liu were most excited about, a video store.

We'll have to get Mom and Dad to come down here and open up an account so we can rent movies. Liu mentioned as Jeff flipped a boxover to read the description of a horror movie. Shit, you're right. Jeff snapped, feeling a bit of frustration at this thought. He knew getting his parents to actually come down here and set up a membership would take forever since their usual after-work routine was to go off into separate rooms until they got hungry enough to come out and speak. Jeff glanced over at the girl working behind the counter. Maybe I can go over there and sweet talker into giving us accounts, he joked. Yeah, right, Jeff.

One look at you and she'll probably balance. You remarked back, a smile broad on his face. You doubt me, little man. Don't you? The guy who's kissed two girls and almost touched a boob? Never. Please go on over and lay on all the charm. Whatever.

I totally could have banged that girl, but, well, her parents came home and... Last time you told me that story, you said her parents were out of town and her sister came home. Jeff became flustered. While in the process of trying to make yet another comeback, the girl behind the register removed all doubt by speaking to the boys herself. Hey, aren't those your bikes? The young woman asked, pointing towards a little. the glass window, Randy, Keith and Trot. Jeff and Liu looked over and saw three boys outside,

two of whom were riding around in circles on the Woods Brothers' bikes. They'd spin them around and then jump off, letting the bikes crash onto the pavement, just to stand them up again and ride them again. The two boys riding the bikes were both slim in build, while a heavier boy stood on the sidewalk, drinking a red bull and watching. Jeff and his brother made their way towards the doors of the video store when the fat kids saw them coming Jeff couldn't hear what he said to his two friends but he made some sort of gesture while shouting

and the other two boys dumped the bikes where they lay and walked towards the sidewalk directly towards the two brothers Those your bikes One of the boys asked as Jeff and Liu entered the summer heat Yeah why are you riding them Liu asked sharply "'Oh, we just saw the man, man,

"'Ralax, figure someone just left him out for us.' "'The same boy responded, "'as his two friends joined him on either side. "'Jeff determined to make a good start here. "'Tried to change the course of the confrontation. "'Well, there are ours. "'We just moved here about a week ago. "'We live over on Fairmont Avenue, a few blocks from here.

"'We were just checking out the neighbour. "'Jeff hoped that a civil tone could turn things around, but he could tell by the insolent look on the kid's face that this was a difficult gamble. Good for you, you moved somewhere, the fat kid remarks. Oh yeah, Troy, the first boy spoke. They moved into that piece of shit house with a gravel driveway. I was wondering who'd moved into that place.

Well, Randy, now we know. The big kid, apparently named Troy, replied. Jeff's still trying to salvage the conversation. tried peaceful banter one more time. Okay, so you're trying, you're Randy. Well, I'm Jeff and this is my brother, Liu. We just moved here from New Orleans. You ain't in New Orleans now,

the third boy who just now decided to speak, remarked. Yen, who the fuck said you could call us by our names? Randy asked, that insolent, privileged smile never leaving his face. Jeff smiled and responded to Randy. Well, I guess I could have just called you a fucking asshole, but I figured I'd give you the benefit of the doubt. And in that moment, a flare of rage replaced the smirk that had rested on Randy's face throughout this entire exchange. The other two boys, Troy and the still unknown third member of his band, seemed to be momentarily struck silent.

Perhaps they weren't used to being stood up to. Oh, I'm sorry. Was that language to Adolfi you? Jeff asked, "'You, quiet boy, "'we know this isn't New Orleans.' Jeff stated to the Slim Kid "'had reminded him of his geographical locations.

"'Cause if this was New Orleans, "'you three would have already gotten your ass's kick "'for touching someone else's shit. "'The Slim Kid looked back and forth "'at his two friends. "'However, Randy, clearly the leader, "'seemed to know what to say. "'Keith, you're gonna let this little bitch

"'taught you like that? Jeff knew this part While he wanted quite badly to sock Randy and his pals around A real concern suddenly invaded his mind If he and Liu got into a fight on their first week in this new neighbourhood Their parents would freak He could practically hear it now And while things had been far from perfect in their home

Even after the move There was a peace that had fallen over the family And Jeff fighting his urges decided to do his best to keep it. Jeff looked over the three, very well-dressed, very privileged-looking suburban kids before them, and dismissed them.

You guys are boring. Come on, Lou, let them continue their play-dates without us. Liu laughed at that and followed behind his brother towards the bikes. However, Randy and his little gang of would-be tuffs would have none of that. They moved to block Jeff and his brother once again.

"'Where you go, pussy?' Randy asked, shoving Jeff. Jeff could tell that shove had no real conviction. Randy was just trying to figure him out, seeing where his buttons were. He'd push harder eventually, but Jeff swallowed the slowly building anger within him once more. You took a bit more exception to the shove. We're going to your mom's house. Me and my brother saved up a couple of dollars from doing chores, and we hear she doesn't charge much, as the war.

words left Liu's mouth, Randy appeared to only register a small portion of it all. Randy Hayden had grown up in Manderville. His father was a partner at a local firm that made a lot of money, something else that Jeff would soon come to learn. Randy and his friends, while the same age as Jeff, had grown up in very different circumstances. They were used to being listened to. They were used to being feared. In fact, Randy, the target of the insults, just stood there. It was actually Troy, the fat kid who stepped forward. Fist-bolded, eyes squinted in anger.

Who you talking to? Troy shouted, and took a wild swing at Liu. Liu, who was both in better shape and had sparred with Jeff a time or two during his time-spent boxing, was able to avoid the punch, but just barely. Had that been all, it may have once again ended there. Troy was clearly taken by surprise at Liu speed and didn't actually attempt another punch. However, these were bullies, kids that ran in a pack for a reason. The skinny one, Keith, stepped around and threw a punch

that connected with the left side of Liu's face. Jeff had seen it off. He'd been shocked at how quickly this evolved into blows, even though he'd expected it almost from the start. When he first met Randy and his friends, he'd been curious. From there he'd developed an annoyance with them, and slowly that annoyance had evolved into anger. However, upon seeing Liu punched,

seeing the small trickle of blood form on his brother's lower lip, upon seeing the smugluck of satisfaction on Keith's face, that anger that Jeff felt suddenly exploded into a rage that he'd never felt before in his life. Jeff Woods did not hesitate. He stepped forwards, his feet automatically falling into the correct stance that he'd learned from the boxing classes his father had once enrolled him to, and delivered a powerful right hand to Keith's face. The skinny boy had no time to register shock or pain. The punch caught him by surprise, and his knees buckled. Keith went down to the ground in a heap of confusion and dawning fear. Randy, the so-called leader here, was almost too shocked to move. He'd had quite a lot of it.

experienced starting fights, but no real time logged in losing them. He'd never felt control of a situation slip. He was used to being in charge. So now, seeing one of his friends go down so quickly and easily, and left him in a state of shock that he had no idea how to address. Troy, on the other hand, seemed to have a plan, throw another punch. He moved towards Jeff deceptively faster than his weight would seem to allow, and threw two equally fast punches. however had no problem sidestepping both attempts. Troy, seeming lost for actions, actually dropped his arms as if to say, gee, what do I do now? Jeff had the answer. He moved in, throwing three hooks to Troy's stomach. The hefty kids' eyes went as wide as pie pans, fitting an allergy, Jeff thought.

He staggered back, clutching his throbbing stomach. Jeff wasted no time and stepped in one more, fetching a sharp punch to the kid's jaw, causing Troy to promptly fall on his ass. Jeff was reminded of King Hippo from the punch-out game he used to play, and he couldn't help but smile. Jeff now turned his focus on Randy. He advanced on the boy, feeling something new forming inside of him. Well, he still felt the anger, the rage actually, at the antics of these three assholes. They'd had the nerve to mess with their bikes. the nerve to insult two kids they'd never met before, and of course the ultimate offence, touching his brother.

However, mixed in with his rage was also a sweet, enjoyable pleasure. Not only was he kicking their asses, but he was loving every second of it. It was as though the joy of showing them up was perfectly blending with the rage he felt towards them, and together it formed into a sadistic, controlled sense of power. That was until Liu stepped in front of him. "'Jeff, stop, that's enough.

"'Why stop now, Liu? They wanted this.' Jeff replied in a flat voice that Liu had never heard come from his brother's mouth. "'Look, she's calling the cups,' Liu shouted again, and this time Jeff came back to reality long enough to listen. He glanced over at the video store club, and saw her on the phone, talking frantically and pointing towards the parking lots. suddenly Jeff's strange sadistic haze collapsed and he regained his former cell

fuck let's go he steaded it quickly and he and Liu mounted their bikes and rode towards the parking lot exit yeah you better fucking run Randy called behind them oh Jeff and Liu paid no mind and peddled away a few blocks down the street they dismounted their bikes and began to walk them together

but first neither brother's spoke. And then Liu broke the silence. Jeff, thank you for standing up for me back there. Thank you. Yeah, those guys were pieces of shit. They had it coming. Jeff replied, looking down at the street as they walked.

What, what happened? I've never seen you like that before. I'm not just defending myself, Liu. What's I supposed to do? Let them beat you up. I bet they go to our school. I bet we'll see them. there and they won't forget us who cares we didn't ask to move here we didn't ask for any of this mom and dad just wanted a bigger house in a nice neighborhood and we were along for the ride whether we liked it or not

think i give a shit what these rich asshole kids think of us jeff stated and went back to looking at his feet i think we'll get in trouble you asked for what defending ourselves yeah i guess you're right They did start it, you answered, and to the brothers the matter was closed. However, things were far from over. Corruption in action. They found that the trouble they believed they escaped was in fact waiting for them at their front door. Jeff and Liu saw the police cars well before they arrived at their driveway. Two cop cars, both parted in front of their house.

Both of them felt their stomachs drop, as they well knew why the police were there. The brothers entered the living room to see their parents sitting on the couch, the two cops standing up, leaning on the wall, writing in their notebooks. What did you two do? Sheila practically screeched as the two boys entered the house. Liu, younger and less centre than Jeff, began to fall on the defensive. Some kids tried to jump at us down by that video store. They were messing with our bikes, and when we ran outside, they got in our faces.

That's not the way we heard it. Matt Woods interjected. His voice firm and right with anger and dissatisfaction. No, Dad, that's what happened, Jeff began to explain. We were down at friendly video, looking around the store, when these three kids started riding around on our bikes. All we did was walk outside, and the kids started talking trash to us, trying to provoke a fight. When we tried to leave, one of them punched Lou. Finally, one of the two cops spoke. His name tag Red Williamson. Oh boys, we have some serious complaints about the two of you. From what eyewitnesses at the shopping centre say,

you two started the confrontation with Randy and his friends. Jeff took notice at how familiar the cop's tone was when he said Randy's name. Well, this was a small town after all, and there was a good chance that this cop coached Randy in Little League, or drank beers with his dad. Well, it was even possible that this cop could be an uncle to one of the bullies. No, sir, Jeff replied. We didn't start it, they did.

We just wanted our bikes. We just wanted to leave. They blocked us. Williamson continued as though he'd heard nothing, Jeff said. Several witnesses, including the video store clerk, say that you swung first. They say that the boys were riding your bikes, but let me ask you this.

Did you chain your bikes to anything, or did you just leave them outside the store? What's that matter? Liu demanded it. Well, son, if you just left your bikes lying around in the street, you can't exactly blame Randy and his friends who are riding them now, can you? It'd be different if you'd secured him somehow, but you just left them there. Mom, Dad, you're not buying this crap, are you? You know me and Liu wouldn't start fights. When have we ever?

These three punks mess with us, and if you can't tell that these cops are taken their sights, then you need to open your eyes. Jeff knew he was skating on thin ice, but that rage, it demanded some sort of satisfaction. Jeffrey, do not speak about these offices in that tone of voice, and do not speak to us that way either. Now, it's pretty obvious that you two aren't happy here, that you miss your old home, but starting fights in the street isn't going to change anything. mother snapped back.

Listen, boys, you're lucky. None of the parents want to press charges. This will be reported as a simple scuffle between teenagers. But be advised, you're both on notice. This is a quiet town, not like New Orleans. We don't tolerate this sort of behavior over here. If you see Randy, Keith, or try, I highly suggest you tell him you're sorry. We'll be keeping an eye on both of you, so don't let this happen again.

You don't want to have an arrest record, do you? Jeff felt his anger bubble over, and he couldn't hold his tongue. Who is he to your Officer Williamson? Is Randy your nephew? Is he a friend's son? Or maybe you go over and screw his mom while you're on duty? Which one is it, officer? That's it.

Both of you go to your rooms. Matt Woods apparently found that he wasn't a mute after all, as he ordered his sons out of the room. Jeff and Liu Wart up the stairs However they refused to hang their heads in shame Or feel any regret Neither of their parents spoke to them

For the rest of the day Jeff and Liu stayed upstairs Fenting their share frustration to each other They'd been screwed over Even at their young ages they knew that They took some solace in the fact That they at least hadn't been arrested or cited But still

They saw what was really going on here That cup He was pretenters Acting Randy, Jeff whispered to his younger brother. No shit, his brother replied. We have to watch ourselves. We have to take care of each other. You saw it down there. Even our parents didn't stand up for us. Yeah, what the hell was up with that? Liu asked.

Oh, I imagine. That fucking image, that's what's up with it. All they care about is fitting in here. They want to make sure they blend in with the rest of the step foot families. No more fighting. If we see Randy or his two fuck-out friends again, we just walk away, okay? But Jeff, you can kick the shit out of them. Why would we walk away? Liu asked.

Because I can't kick the shit out of the cops, Liu. I can't kick the shit out of Mom and Dad, and that's what would get us. Fricking Randy and his pals are protected here. You and me, we're not. So if we see them, just avoid them, okay? Please. Liu nodded.

I feel like a little bitch, though. I owe Keith for hitting me. No, you don't. I paid him back for that, and paid his fat friend, too. I hope they just leave us alone now. Jeff sighs. Absent compassion.

Jeff and Liu didn't hear from their parents for the rest of that day. They remained in their rooms late into the night, and finally came down to eat after they were sure their folks had gone to bed. You said that he felt relieved about that, but Jeff had a sinking. feeling that the worst was yet to come.

Jeff was cracked. The next morning when the two brothers came downstairs together to eat breakfast, their parents were already sitting at the dining room table, staring at the boys, approving of nothing they saw. Sit down. Matt stated flatly, What's going on? Liu asked. Sit down, Matt stated again, angered dancing on the words.

The boys complied without further question. Matt Woods began his diatribe. Whatever that was yesterday, beating up some kids for touching your bikes, mouthing off at the police, disrespecting both me and your mother. That stops today. We didn't beat anyone up for touching our bikes. Jeff blurted. Shut up, Jeff.

This is a one-way conversation. His father part. that kid Randy Hayden his father's a partner of my firm did you know that did you even think about that when you were a sordium over some

godforsaken bite you just didn't think did you Jeff Sheila added how could I have known that Matt continued while I've spent the entire morning talking to his father on the phone

his dad is willing to let it all go but shit son I have to deal with that at work now. Do you have any idea how much damage this could have done to me, to our family? Jeff felt that rage coming back and fought with all his might to keep it stifled. Instead, he once more tried to appeal to the two adults' parental side. Mom, look at Liu's face. They split his lip. Can't you see it? It's still swollen. Liu turned his head to better showcase the injury.

My God, Jeff, some kid played a little rough with your brother. Is there any reason to fight them? I wanted to make friends with some of the other families in this neighbourhood, but thanks to you, I just don't know. No sooner could Jeff or his brother construct a proper defence, then their father began speaking again. So, your mother and I have taught this through. Since there are only a couple of weeks of summer vacation left,

we've decided that Liu should spend the rest of the season at Aunt Marcy's place. We've already spoken to her, and she's willing to let him come out there instead. Both Jeff and Liu were flawed by this decision. Both boys began to protest at the same time, but they saw the look on their parents' faces. The decision was made. Why can't we just both go then?

Jeff asked. I'll ask each effort to at least get away from his parents. Marty doesn't want both of you there. She says you to are too rambunctious and frankly we agree Sheila answered And so it was You was shuttled off to his aunt's place

In Abita Springs, Louisiana A place even smaller and duller than Mandeville If one could believe that Jeff watched his brother leave And then walked back to his bedroom He felt that rage However it began to feel almost Pleasant to him

He couldn't explain it He was furious at this turn of events his parents had turned their backs on their own children however through it all these new feelings he was experiencing weren't all terrible in this anger for example he could almost taste it felt like a thick sweet syrup stirring around in him of course he knew the extra ingredient that would complete the flavor oh that's satisfying joy you'd felt when he had randy and his friends on the ropes the day prior that mix perfectly with the anger, which creates some intoxicating product that Jeff almost craved now. He fell asleep on his bed, thinking about that syrup, thick, viscous, that seemed to work its way

into the very fabric of his soul. He wanted it, yet he knew that it was destructive, and nothing good could come from sampling it again. Several days passed, and tensions were high between Jeff and his parents. Without Liu around, there was nothing for him to do except sit in his room and play video games. He went outside but didn't venture far from home. He knew if Randy and his goon

showed up again, it would likely result in another fight. For a few days that worked well, and Jeff believed he could get through this. However, his mother changed all of that on an early Sunday morning. Jeff was awoken suddenly by sharp sunlight, striking his face he heard his mother humming something that she rarely did even in his half-sleeping state he knew that humming was forced she was doing it to waking up and figured the added

sunlight would get things there even faster when she noticed Jeff's eyes cracking open she sauntered over to his bed and began speaking in a tone that simply oozed false joviality forced friends at first Jeff had refused used. Could his mother be serious? Did she really expect him to go over and make friends with Randy? He was still in bed when his mother stopped her incestant humming, long enough to tell him to get up and get dressed. Once he learned why, he told her no, no way in hell. However, his mother was a shrewd manipulator, and she'd know exactly what would get the job done. She promised Jeff that if he did this for her, went over and made it work with Randy, that you could come home and then

next day. She'd sandbagged Jeff right into the corner with that one. He'd no choice but to agree. A short time later, Jeff and his mother were pulling into Randy's driveway. Randy's mother answered the door. Hi, you must be Jeff, she greeted. Jeff smiled onely and confirmed that was in fact who he was. Hello, I'm Sheila Woods. Nice to finally meet you in person. Jeff's mother announced, barging past her son and extending a hand to Randy's mother. Sheila, I'm so pleased to meet you. I'm Bridget Hayden. Sorry to hear that our boys had a little mishap the other day. You know how it is, though, with teenagers. Hormones going crazy, you know. Randy never gets into fights, but he explained to me that Jeff and his brother are still new to the

area and haven't quite learned how to do things in Man Deville yet. Isn't that right, Jeff? Jeff couldn't resist a small Jeff Yeah, sorry about that Miss Hayden Me and Liu had no idea that it was okay for your son and his friends To mess with our bikes without asking Bridget, he gets that mouth from his father Never knows when to shut up

How about you and I go and have some coffee And you can tell me all the gossip around Manderville When our boys get to know each other the right way Randy's in his room, Jeff, upstairs Second door to your left I'm sure you'll hear the sound of his video games or something. Bridget stated with very little humor to her voice. Thank you, ma'am.

Jeff answered and entered the house. Jeff knocked and heard Randy answer with. Come in. Hey, so I guess you heard. Our parents want us to hang out. Get to know each other. Jeff stated with little conviction. Yeah, that's my mom all right.

she doesn't like drama honestly I think she worries too much I mean I'm cool if you're cool Jeff sat down on the floor next to Randy and struck up a conversation so um turns out your dad is my dad's boss he freaked out about the fight in the parking lot

he was actually worried that he'd get fired or something my dad's like everyone's boss I fucking hate it I think half the kids at my school only talk to me because their parents are somehow connected to my dad's firm Why do you hate it? Jeff asked. Because it's fake. This whole damn town is fake. You'll figure it out as you go, but trust me, everyone who lives here is just trying to pretend there's something else.

Parents make me do all this shit, all the trophies and stuff, just so they can brag. That's it. Jeff smiled. I know how you feel. My dad had me in boxing class a year ago, because some co-worker of his... had a brother that worked at the place or something. As soon as that guy quit, though, I was out of that gym the next week. Ah, wish it was that easy, Randy responded.

I hate playing baseball, but my dad will sure have me out there again next summer, and the summer afterwards. It's like, he knows I hate it, but wants to make sure I'm out there with his stupid company name on the back of my jersey. Hey, Randy, oh, why did you and your friends fuck without bikes the other day? I told you, this town's fake, boring as shit. There's nothing to do here. We have to find stuff to do. I mean, there are only so many times you can go hang out at the video store, or write the dirt parts in the woods.

All the girls here are stuck up. All the stores close early. There's no mall and the movie theaters across town. We're just so bored, man. So, sorry for that, I guess. It's cool. Jeff replied. Yes, I'm sorry for it too. Things went too far.

You mean the fight? Randy asked. That shit was actually cool. Those guys, Keith and Troy, they'd just leach on me because of my dad. It's like I told you. I'm pretty sure their parents make them hang out with me. The afternoon went on. Jiff soon forgot that this was a mandatory arrangement. He actually started to find himself liking Randy.

Sure, their first encounter was a little sketchy, but he was coming around to the guy. Finally, he wasn't so bad once his idiot friends were removed from the equation. About an hour later, things took a new turn. Jeff heard the twin pops of two car doors shutting in near unison, and then heard the engine start up. He dropped the game controller and peered out of Randy's bedroom window, just in time to see his mother and Randy's mother backing out of the driveway.

Our parents are leaving, Jeff says. About time. I figured my mom would eventually talk your mom into going shopping. I'm going to get coffee or something like that. Jeff heard Randy pause the game. Hey, Jeff, come downstairs. I want to show you some cool stuff. Randy invited, and Jeff followed.

Randy led Jeff out to the garage. It was hot in there with the main door shut. The garage was well kept, though, and Jeff observed stacks of magazines under a workbench. as well as tools and various other utility items stacked about. Standing in the small, closed garage, with the late summer heat lingering about, Jeff began to feel a bit uneasy. Despite the fact that he and Randy had seemed to bond over the last year hours,

Jeff couldn't ignore a sense that things were different now that the adults were gone. Why did you want to show me? Jeff asked. Hold on, let me get it, Randy replied, moving the magazines to reveal a small red, box. Jeff watched as Randy removed the box and opened it. Check it out. It's my dad's flerga. Randy announced and waved the red tubular gun about. Well, be careful with that. Jeff shouted, more out of shock than real concern. It's fine, dude. They'll be a pussy. It's not even loaded, Randy said. However, Jeff watched as he fished out one of the flares from the back compartment. Randy then continued to fiddle with the

flare gun, popping it open and loading a flare. Oh, now it's loaded, he announced. My dad showed me how to use this last year when we went outboating. Sometimes I like to take it out back and shoot flares at the trees, but maybe this time I don't need a tree. The change in Randy's voice and demeanor was impossible to ignore. Okay, well, cool gun. Let's get back in the house, though.

It's hot out here, plus I'm getting hungry. What do you have to eat? however as Jeff turned to walk through the small door leading into the house his path was suddenly blocked by two more familiar faces vile intentions where are you going Jeffie the fat kid Troy blurted out as he and Keith stepped forward into the garage took you two assholes long enough to get here I've had to babysit this faggot all day Randy shouted a wicked joy was present in his words sorry Randy Keith here had to mow his front yard

before his parents would let him come over. Troy said, a sheepish tone to his voice. Well, it's cool. We're here now. Keith says, what the fuck is going on? Jeff asked, staring at Randy. You notice that Randy still had the flare gun in his hands. I'll tell you what's going on, Jeff.

You owe Keith and Troy an apology for what you did. You sucker punched him and then ran away. He didn't even have the bull. to fight them fair, so now you're going to pay them what you owe. I'm not going to fight you, okay? I'm done with that shit, Jeff replied as he glanced about the room for an exit. Oh, you're right about that. You're not going to fight.

You're going to stand there and let my boys get their licksing. And then I get mine. When that's done, you get the fuck out of my house. I'll tell my mom that you got sick and walked home. and after that if you see us again, you better walk the other way. I'm not going to stand here and get hit by you or your friends.

So just let me go home. How about that? I'll tell my mom that we're cool and everyone wins, okay? Jeff asked. Randy then raised the flare gun towards Jeff. No. You stay, pussy.

You stay and take your licks. Jeff felt that sensation once more. That sick. rich, dark matter that swirled about inside of him. He could taste it now, and it was heaven. In his mind he imagined himself diving into it, swimming in it, letting it swallow him home. He looked around and the sensation only grew.

He saw Randy standing there holding the flare gun. It was limp in his hands, though, and the hammer wasn't even cocked back. Jeff knew that Randy had no intention of firing it. He looked over at Keith, skinny and pathetic, a kid born to follow. Troy, fat and sweaty, breathing a bit heavy from his walkover, and of course in the middle of it all, Jeff himself. He felt that pleasure begin to mix with the rage, forming the perfect product.

Try to avoid sampling it. He knew that only regret would come from indulging in it. However, when it was placed so close, when the aroma and the promise of that sweet, savory flavor was only inches away, Jeff found that he could do no more to stand against it than a ship in the ocean could stand against a typhoon. And Jeff began to smile. Why are you smiling at me? You queer for me or something? Randy asked.

A slight nervous tinge in his voice. Am I smiling, Randy? I guess it's because I'm just having so much fun. Jeff announced and suddenly lunged towards the unprepared kid holding the flare gun. Jeff struck Randy once in the nose. Randy's arms dropped, yet he kept hold of the flare gun. Jeff, without even needing to look, realized that Troy and Keith had actually taken a step back instead of advancing as they should have.

Jeff delivered another strong blow to Randy's jaw, causing the boy to drop to the floor. Jeff now turned his attention to Troy and Keith, the two tough kids that had yet to actually make so much as a move in his direction. Troy actually backed up a step and stumbled over the stack of magazines that Randy had moved earlier. Jeff took this opportunity and stepped forward, once again introducing Troy's round belly to his fist. Troy tried to stay on his feet, but Jeff's punches combined with the stumble over the magazines, caused Troy to fall back. landing hard and striking his head on the concrete slab that was the garage's floor. Keith was actually trying to back away. However, Jeff was currently standing between him and the only exit to the garage

since the carport door was closed. Jeff took two quick steps towards the skinny kid and felt the most intense joy at seeing Keith stagger backwards, knocking his back into the wall. That perfect blend of pleasure, control and rage had come to. again. Jeff felt as though he was floating above the world. Somewhere in his mind he knew there would be hell to pay for this, but at that exact moment in time he couldn't care less. He didn't care about Liu, didn't care about being arrested, and he didn't care if his dad got fired.

All he cared about in that fraction of time was hurting Keith. Keith tried to make a run for it, hoping to squeeze through the small gap between Jeff and the door. However, Jeff clipped him a hard right hand to his face, causing Keith to stagger back again. Jeff could see that his knees were buckling and took full advantage. He moved in, pinning Keith to the wall and began to deliver blow after blow to the skinny kid's stomach. Keith's eyes became as large as saucers.

Once satisfied, Jeff stepped back and watched in demonic glee as Keith slowly slid down the wall, gasping for air. Randy got back to his feet, but seemed to have no idea what to do. We done now, Randy. We good. But do you and your friends need more? Jeff mocked. No more.

We're cool. How about you assholes? Jeff asked. It was Randy's idea, Keith said weekly. Yeah, man. "'We didn't even want to,' Troy agreed. "'And this debate may have continued, "'but the sound of a returning car broke the tension.

"'Oh, shit, my mom's back,' Randy shouted. "'His voice cracking in a humorous way. "'It seemed that the previous tough guy had all but shrunk back "'to a scared child. "'So we'll just say that we're all hanging out,' Keith replied. "'Oh, the fucking flagger, "'if she finds out that I mess with him, with it, I'm screwed.

So put it back, Jeff suggested. That sensation of rage was fading again, and he felt control returning. Yeah, grab the magazines, please. Randy begged. Jeff found that he'd rather like that tone, that begging, whipped dog mentality. Jeff was paying no attention to Randy.

He was down on the floor, calmly gathering the magazines. He didn't really care if Randy got in trouble or not, but if his mother returned and found trouble, he feared that Liu may not be able to return home, as promised. Everything else happened, in a flash, both literally and figuratively. Randy, now in a panic over the trouble he'd be in, if he was caught playing with the flare gun, had begun to sweat.

As his hands frantically clawed over the gun, his thumbs pushed the hammer back unintentionally. He didn't even notice that the gun was cocked. He was turning it over in his hands, trying to quickly disarm it. He then heard the sound of keys in the front door. He knew that he had only seconds now to hide it. Everything else happened in slow motion. The gun slipped from Randy's sweaty hands as he attempted to rotate it once more. He saw it fall to the floor, seeming to float to the ground rather than fall.

Jeff, busy stacking the magazines, had only enough time to register Randy's shock gas. He turned to look in the boy's direction just in time to see the bright red flare gun hit the floor. The gun discharged, launching a speeding ball of fire directly into Jeff's face. Jeff felt the hot flash of heat and pain tear across the side of his face. After the initial registry of agony,

there was no more thinking. Jeff began to scream, clutching the left side of his face and rolling around on the floor. For a while, While he forgot everything, as he was plunged into that dark, rich syrup once more, the rage almost serving to dull the pain. When he did finally come to a stable level of alertness, he realized he was in a hospital

room. Half of his face was bandaged. He knew that much. He wanted to open his eyes and speak. Let his family know he was awake, but the drug still had a firm hold. He was awake but not quite yet functioning. He could hear several familiar voices, though. The birth of the killer.

Is he going to be okay, Doctor? Jeff's mother asked. Oh, yes, ma'am, your son will be fine. However, he'll have a lengthy road to recovery. He'll need your support. The flare struck his face and caused 30-degree burns on his left side. How bad is he eye? Jess' father asked.

Hard to say at this point. He'll need to see an optologist for further refurb. viewer, but the damage appears quite severe. And his face? What about his face? Jeff's mother asked, sounding deeply concerned. Well, we were able to clean and treat the injury in time, so you've no concern for infection or anything of that manner.

We want him on antibiotics for a while, and we'll need to have the wound cleaned and dressed on a regular basis. But all in all, your son got very lucky. The damage could have been more severe. Doctor His mother began again What if there's permanent damage?

What do we do about that? As I said an optometrist will have to examine their art. Sheila Woods interrupted the doctor sounding more agitated than before. You're not listening, not the eye, his face.

What do we do to create his face? She demanded. Oh ma'am, we've treated his face like I said. there shouldn't be a risk of infection, so long as you were. She cut him off again. Not the infection, his appearance. What can we do for that?

Miss Woods, that's hardly a concern at this point. Once he's healed and back on his feet, you can possibly explore plastic surgery to repair some of the damage. But honestly, right now, we can't waste concern on how he looks. What's important is that your son is healthy. you can expect to be back home in a few days, maybe sooner. Jeff's dad spoke again. Okay, thank you, doctor.

Can we have some time alone, please? My wife and I need to speak. Certainly, the doctor replied. Liu, why do you go down to the hospital cafeteria and get yourself a snack? Matt Wood suggested. Why, I want to be here in case Jeff wakes up, Liu replied. Liu They told us that Jeff's heavily medicated

They don't expect him to wake up any time tonight So just go and if he does come around We'll have you paged Matt replied Jeff heard the door open and close As Liu exited His parents both laid out a long, shaky sigh But Jeff was starting to believe

It wasn't a sigh of relief But rather one of stress We're going to have to homeschool him now Matt that's just what it's going to be. We're going to have to keep him home. He heard his mother rant, her voice sounding frantic. What?

I mean, he probably won't be able to start school right on time, but I doubt he'll miss a whole year. His father responded, trying to maintain a calmer voice. I'm not talking about that, Matt. I'm not worried about him missing a week or two of school. I mean, his face, Matt. You heard what the doctor said.

His face is going to be disfigured. Sheila argued back. We don't even know the full extent of the damage yet, Sheila. It could be minor. It could possibly heal. You heard what the doctor said. Plastic surgery could be an option in time. In time?

What kind of time? Two years. What about in the meantime? People are going to see him and they're going to talk. Is that what you want? He's going to be a pariah. You think anyone's going to want to have him around their kids? Jeff was hearing all of this, just letting it soak in slowly.

As his mind absorbed the words, he felt the rage returned. Sick, rich, dark, that syrup of raw, primal emotion. He wanted to scream at his mother, to tell her to shut up, that he was the one lying here, half his face burned, blind in one aisle, thanks to her forcing him to go over to Randy's house. He wanted to ask her why she? she left why she went off to go shopping or have her nails done or whatever it was that she did he wanted to know why she'd leave him alone with the kid who just days before tried to jump him and his brother he wanted to know how she could care more about his appearance than the fact that he was laying in the hospital however there was still so much more that he wanted to know as well he wanted to know how much more his mother hated him how much more she saw him now as a how does she put it a pariah

He wanted to continue to swim in the thick pool of dark hatred that was starting to form from the rage and anger. That was a new one now. Before it was anger, then it was anger mixed with pleasure, but now, now it was anger mixed with hatred. And while he certainly longed to be free of it, while he most certainly preferred the false sense of love and concern he believed he'd heard from her before, he also wanted to test it out a bit more. He also began to wonder, how well would this new recipe blend with pleasure? How would it feel? Matt Woods began to speak again.

I just can't believe he shot himself in the face with a flare gun. I always thought Jeff was more responsible than that. Don't even get me started on that, Sheila replied. I couldn't believe it when Randy and his friends explained to the medics and police how it all happened. Randy was just trying to show Jeff around the house. and wanted to show him the collection of magazines his dad kept in the garage. Oh, you know, boys. He was probably hoping that a couple of playboys would be in there or something.

Then he said Jeff found the box containing the flag and just wouldn't stop playing around with it. Or you should have heard those other boys, Matt. They told me that they practically begged Jeff to just put it down before he got hurt, but he just had to show off. I just don't know where we went wrong, Matt. I thought us moving out here to a nice quiet neighborhood, would make everyone happy. Jeff, though, he just wants to fight us on everything.

And while all that came together in Jeff's minds, he continued to swim in that black echo of hatred and rage. The morphine drip added a nice touch of euphoria. Jeff could almost see himself, plunging into the syrupy waters of hatred, and emerging changed. Each dip brought him so much twisted, pleasure. And that was when he finally understood. He could sample the pleasure now, not because he

was enjoying what was happening, but because he knew he could enjoy what was to come. Just as the doctor had predicted, Jeff was scheduled to go home a few days later. During his time at the hospital, he never asked to see his face. It wasn't until the last day that he finally asked for a mirror. The nurse had come in to change his bandages, as was the routine. She was a pleasant woman. She spoke to him, asked him how he was doing. He enjoyed her visits. So on the final day when she arrived to clean and dress his face, he asked to see himself.

Are you sure, sweetheart? Would you like me to call in your parents first? She asked. No, thank you. Jeff replied. I think I want to see it myself first, without them standing over me. I understand. she replied honestly without a hint of pretension once the bandages were off she handed him a small hand mirror would you like me to step out of the room she asked jeff ignored her and looked at himself taking stock of the damage sure enough his face was a mess the entire left side at least a flare struck him travelling upwards and burned a scar into his left cheek that extended to his eyes

At first glance it almost looked like he was smiling on that side. The scar was still bright red and burned tissues spread out on either side. Once it arrived at his eye, the news did not get any better. His eye was white, just a lifeless bulb plugged into his face. He closed his right eye and found that he could see nothing from his left eye at all. The scar continued up the left side of his forehead. The damage was less severe there, however. The hair on the left side of his head was burned off, leaving a few strands to stick up here and there.

Sorry, sweetie, but I have to put clean bandages on, she told him. Jeff smiled. It's okay. There'll be plenty of time for me to admire myself late. Go to sleep. There was no joy from his parents on the right home, or upon arrival. They spoke very little, and there was attention. in the car that simply wouldn't fade out.

As for Liu, he was thrilled that his brother was okay, but he didn't know what to say concerning the damage to his face. So, after asking a few questions about the accident and the recovery, he fell silent as well. They walked into their home at dusk, and Liu asked about dinner. He suggested they let Jeff pick a place to celebrate his return home. Just go to sleep. Both of you, boys, go to sleep.

Sheila remarked. She and her husband both retreated to their bedrooms as well, to argue or feel sorry for themselves. You knew. Jeff and Liu didn't speak much that night. Jeff spent most of the evening staring at himself in the mirror. He kept pulling back the bandages and looking at the scars. Liu wanted to see them too, but felt that it might be imprudent to ask.

I'm glad you're home, Jeff. I really missed you, and I'm glad you're okay. Liu said to Jeff as he stared at himself. I'm not okay, Lou, and neither are you. None of us are, really. There's a sickness here. The only difference is now my sickness shows on the outside as well. Jeff replied, his voice as flat as that on an answering machine.

What are you talking about? Lou asked. One day you'll see it too. This is what happens, though. this is what happens when it all falls down Jeff said still peeking behind his bandages Jeff I don't know what you're trying to say

Liu responded Jeff didn't reply though after several moments Liu left him alone Lee went down to his parents' bedroom and knocked on the door What is it? The voice of his mother asked

Mom I think Jeff's acting weird He may want to come talk to him go away lew leave your mom alone his father's voice answered well you being young had no other ideas so he returned to his own bedroom he didn't know that those would be the last words he'd ever hear his parents speak to him that night sheila and matt woods awoke together both being light sleepers it took little to bring them out of slumber the sudden removal of their blankets as it was snatched from the bed did the trick just fine They woke to see a small light coming from the half-bath that was situated in their master bedroom.

The door was cracked only slightly and the light source was weak. They could make out a human shape standing over their bed, though. What's going on? Sheila grumbled. As their vision came into focus, they realised their son was standing before them.

Matt reached over and flipped on the lamb next to their bed. Jeff was standing there, his bandages off, his disfigured face beaming down on him, with a long kitchen knife clutched in his right hand. What are you doing, son? Matt asked. His mind still trying to shake out the cobwebs of sleep. He's got a knife, Sheila screamed, grabbing at her husband's arm. Matt kept his composure, though.

Sheila, it's probably just the pain. He likely got up and got disoriented. Relax, for Christ's sake. Jeff tilted his head to one side, still not speaking. He stared hard at his father, slowly bringing the knife up, ensuring that he saw it well. Son, what are you doing? Matt asked. Scareing you, Jeff replied, with no emotion in his voice. Matt, do something, Sheila pleaded.

Okay, son, I realize you've been through a lot, but you need to go back to bed. I'm going to call the doctor in the morning, and... Jeff moved quickly across to his father's side of the bed, his head moving about, alternating between a normal-looking young man and the deformed ghoul that had been lurking in the shadow. Okay, son, you scared me. Is that what you wanted? Matt asked, adjusting to the middle of the bed to put distance between himself. for his son. Good.

Now I can start hurting you. Jeff spoke again, with no emotion. His father had time to utter a single syllable, most likely to ask another question to try and reason with his son. Jeff, however, gave him time to do no more than that. He lunged onto the bed, driving the knife into his father's stomach. Man attempted to fend Jeff off. but the wound to his midsection rendered him into shock,

and his arms fell to the side. Jeff could hear his mother screaming, but paid no mind. He wanted to finish with his father first. Removing the knife, Jeff stabbed down into his stomach three more times, quickly. His father gasped and coughed up blood. His body jerked and twitched each time the knife found its mark. And after the third time, Matt Woods laid.

still. Sheila had backed up against the headboard of the beds. She wanted to climb down, make a run for it, but she'd bored herself up between the headboard and the end table. In a frantic state of terror and confusion, she couldn't figure out how to do something as simple as dismount a bed. Jeff, why? Why are you doing this to us? She asked feebly. Randy started it. You must have known that. But you're not. You ignored it. Liu had a busted lip. You must have seen that.

But you ignored it. I was shot in the face of the flag under. But you believed Randy. Why? So you could fit in. Jeff asked in a low, almost growling voice. No, baby. I believed you.

It was just your father's job. And we're new here. Oh God, Jeff, please. his mother begged. Tell me about homeschool, mom. Tell me about how you don't want to send me out in public because of my face. Tell me how none of the other kids would want to be my friend and how none of their parents would want to be yours.

Tell me about that, Mom. Tell me how nice it's going to be, you homeschooling me. Jeff, please, I was just stressed. I was worried about you, that's all. please I I love you mom I think you should take your own advice you know what you told you when we got home tonight he wanted to do something nice to welcome me home do you remember what you told us to do instead Jeff asked as he now crawled over cornering his mother on the bed what did I say she asked the question coming out barely a whisper

go to sleep jeff snowed and drove the knife into his mother's chest he stabbed her over and over again and as he did he finally found that perfect recipe that heavenly blend that rage hate and pleasure all mixed into one perfect formula and for a while jeff became lost in it all Jeff opened his brother's bedroom door, not surprised to find his brother asleep. He dozed off with his headphones in, so he slept through all the shouting. That was fine with Jeff. It was easier that Liu not have to hear all of that. Jeff sat down on his brother's bed and latched him slightly.

It took a moment, but Liu finally opened his eyes and looked up. Jeff removed his earphones for him. "'You're free now, Lou,' he spoke softly. "'Jeff? What? What are you talking about?' Liu mumbled, still half asleep. "'You'll see in the morning. I just wanted to let you know I love you. You'd be my best friend. Remember that, okay.' "'Thanks. I love you too. Let me go back to sleep,' Liu replied,

already dozing off again. Jeff smiled and stood up. As he left the room, he looked back at his sleeping brother one last time before he vanished into the night. 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.