Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S5 Ep205: Episode 205: Deliciously Evil Horror Stories

Episode Date: December 31, 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 Today’s first fantastic offering is ‘In the Dead of Winter’, an original work by The Tango Bravo, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all. https://www.reddit.com/user/TheTangoBravo/ Today’s second tale is 'I Used to Think that Ghosts don’t Exist', an original story by Mammoth Formal 1, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all. https://www.reddit.com/user/MammothFormal1/ Today’s phenomenal penultimate story is ‘The Evil Inside’, an original work by MasterL0L, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all. https://www.reddit.com/user/MasterL0LToday’s final fantastic offering is ‘Sea of Green’, an original work by the legendary Michael Whitehouse, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all. https://twitter.com/horrorofmike http://www.michael-whitehouse.com/

Experience a legacy that lasts at Dawn Valley North Lexus. Right now Lisa 2026 NX350 Premium Package from just 628 per month for 28 months at 3.9%. Plus qualified Lexus loyalty guests receive a 1.5% rate reduction for rates as low as 2.4%. See Dawnvalley North Lexus.com for details. A proud member of Wayne's Auto Group. Welcome to Dr. Creepin's Dungeon. We love deliciously evil horror stories because they let us safely explore the darkest corners of human nature and the unknown. They awaken a primal thrill, teasing our fears while giving us the comfort of knowing we can close the book or turn off the screen at any time.

These stories challenge our courage, forcing us to confront the sinister possibilities lurking in the shadows, while we remain safely tucked in our real world surroundings. The allure lies in the blend of fear and fascination, where danger feels close but not too close and every scare delivers a rush of adrenaline that reminds us we're alive as we shall see in tonight's four tales now as ever before we begin a word of caution

tonight's stories may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery if that sounds like your kind of thing then let's begin the first tale this evening is in the dead of winter by tango bravo The first rays of sunlight crept over the mountains,

casting its warmth on the snow-covered valley floor below. Thomas Grain looked away from his fire to greet the frozen Alaskan peaks, which, after days of travel, now only seemed an afternoon away. He leaned back in his camp-chair, and over the steam rising from his fresh cup of coffee, admired the little clearing he'd found right before the previous sunset. It wasn't the most impressive, area he'd seen since his trek to the mountain started, but something about the quaint nature of

it spoke to him. The thin pines towered over him from behind, semi-enclosing his campsite before opening to the beautiful mountains that, until now, had seemed impossible to reach. A chill breeze flowed through the opening and around Thomas, rustling the dark hair of his beard, and nipping at the exposed portions of his skin on his neck and hands, warmed only by the heat, of the coffee he gingerly sipped, as he enjoyed the quiet morning he set out to the middle of nowhere to find. The birch trees had a certain quality to him this time of year. The white and brown of the bark contrast against the impossibly finite expanse of snow, and evergreens always stunned him with their beauty, and in his tenure only found these wonders in the centre

of the last frontier. He was glad that his vacation lined up to send him to his own. him here early in the winter. If he couldn't have come until January, we'd have had to enlist the help of a dog sled to get even a mile outside of any civilised areas. The depth of the snow meant he had to dig for hours to set up camp, wasting most of the few hours of daylight you would get in the Alaskan winter, making travel slow and tedious. Once, when Thomas was sent to Western Alaska to work, he'd spent more time trying to build shelters to survive the cold than he did on actual movement to the job site. But now, in early November,

the snow was only a few inches deep in most areas, with the windrifts piling up a few, three feet berms against steep slopes, making light foot travel a possibility, while preserving the awe-inspiring white canvas of wilderness that Thomas dreamt off when he lay his head anywhere else in the world. When he'd finished his coffee, he put out the flames of his fire

and began packing his cam back into his right, As he worked, he smiled as he thought back to a conversation he'd had with his handler just a week prior. His handler, George, let out a hardy laugh that filled the small, dingy coffee shop they'd found in the small city in Chilai that they'd spent the last month occupant. There was a stark contrast between the two men. Thomas, who wasn't slender by any means, paled in comparison to the mountain that sat across from him. his form barely able to be contained by the booth it occupied.

We've been on the trail for almost 18 months, Thomas. George paused to sip his coffee from a cup that looks comically small in his large hands. And you're telling me you want to take your leave hunting deer in Alaska. I don't see what's funny about that. Thomas replied with a smile, knowing well why George found it unbelievable. No hunter I've ever met once to go camping, Thomas. They go find a beach somewhere.

Take a break, get their mind off things. Not go hunting deer in the most dangerous place on the planet. Third most dangerous. Thomas corrected his lifelong friend. You serious? George asked. A glimmer of worry in his eyes. We haven't been to Alaska in years, George.

No one's putting in for jobs up there. Thomas took a pause before adding Oh, and I miss it. People are always asking for help in Alaska, but no one wants to pay for an old Honda to track down a Wendigo and giant wolves. I've already planned the route. Delta Junction hasn't had any reports in decades.

It's safe. And if it's not... George... Thomas laughed. I just got done dealing with the horde of vampires in the Chilean jungles. And you're asking me, me if a hunting trip to kill deer is safe.

George was right on all counts. The Yukon had garnered a reputation as being one of the most dangerous locations on the planet. More people are given their lives to the supernatural there than any other location on the North American continent. While Thomas wasn't old by any means, in their line of work, a 33-year-old hunter was considered ancient.

Most hunters are either dead or retired by the age of 26, their self-preservation winning out over their slowing reflexes, and their fortune amassed, giving them an easy life. The job was never meant to be for a family man, but in Thomas's time he found that many freshly married men flocked to the organisation, deeming that eight or so years of work was worth the rest of their lives they'd spend on the American dream of white picket fences and two children families. But Thomas, well, He had no such dreams. To him, the life of a hunter was the only life to live.

As long as his body had life to give, he would keep living it. The organisation recruited Thomas when he turned 18. An American company that spent their time ensuring the legends and horror stories that filled the world's media, stay just that. Stories. They sent hunter and handler pairs across the world, quelling the thread of cryptids and demons for the highest bidders. The handler would be sent to the surrounding towns of the target location to gather information on the threat,

and the hunter would be in the thick of hell, as George would describe it, to handle the bounty. Being good at your job meant that a team would receive only the highest paying bids, putting them in the same location for weeks, sometimes months at a time, and in Thomas and George's tenure, they received the reputation of being the best in the business. normally a handler would have five or six hunters before they reached their retirement age of forty george being only one year away from retirement and only two thomas met him when he lost his first hunter after they had been working together for a year having lost his life to a creature aptly named the howitzer adding to its long list of kills at the time george had already counted the doe-eyed eighteen-year-old is dead having been assigned the same bounty that took his friend. He was ready to forget the kid had ever existed,

until, after only three days, he reported back to the same diner they'd met in, brandishing a fresh wound on his cheek and a single giant tooth as proof of his price. George knew that he had something special then, and, after 15 years, had not been proven wrong. Thomas knew George worried about him. it wasn't uncommon for a hunter to enlist the help of another team however thomas against his handler's wishes refused the practice for the last few years his feats and accomplishments were only added to by his solo treks into the wilds but thomas didn't do it for the fame

while there were many rumours most being tales of his bravery or beliefs that he had anomalous powers only thomas knew the real reasons and only he would know even now thomas knew that george would be in his penthouse in las vegas worrying about his hunter standing tall in the middle of nowhere alaska population one as thomas hauled his rucksack on to his back he placed his thoughts about george into the back of his mind he wasn't here to reminisce about his work he was here to get away from the hunt he was here to leave behind the horrors that had stalked the world and, at least for a bit, be a normal person, doing a normal thing. He picked up his SR-25 from its resting place on the nearby log and let his gaze rest on the mountains, drawing in its beauty before raising his shemach over his face and stepping out of the clearing. With luck, his next camp would be resting in the shadows of those giants before him. Hours had passed, and the sun began drawing the end of its art.

across the clear skies above him. Thomas had made good ground since the morning. He checked his Garmin watch to see that in the last five hours he had covered fifteen miles. The mountains were now only a few hours away and by his judge of things did seem close enough to make camp at the base of them before nightfall. Something seemed off to him though. Even in the dead of winter there was always some type of life always moving through the forest. A snow hare, a fox, caribou. It didn't matter the size. There was always something.

Save for a few birds he'd seen when he left camp that morning. It was almost like this part of the forest was empty. That seemed impossible for Thomas. When he was sent into the Russian tiger to assist as hunter in the tracking an ancient witch, known for her ferocity and complete decimation of ecosystems, there were animal tracks and presence of life to be found every. everywhere. Here there were none. No sound of wolves' howls filled the air. Creatures didn't jump from limb to limb in the trees. It was almost as if Thomas had mistakenly stepped

into a different, dead reality. Odd enough as the situation Thomas found himself in, he didn't feel like he was in danger. Over his career, he developed a sixth sense, a gut feeling when danger would occur. He always felt watched when on mission, like at any moment a denizen of the night would spring from some unknown hiding place and drag him down to his grave. But the peace of the forest was impenetrable.

The wind still blew, dancing to its own frozen song. The sun shone its victorious bright light and, besides the utter absence of the wildlife, nothing felt wrong. Maybe nothing was really. wrong. As he approached a clearing and stepped through the trees, he knew, though, something was. Before Thomas was the remains of a campsite. Three colourful tents sat in tatters. The cooler looked

as if it had been thrown, with its contents across the field, and just as the forest he'd come from, no, life was present. I've got to be kidding me, Thomas sighed. He checked the chain. He checked the chamber of his rifle to ensure he had round ready and began his approach to the ruins. He made his approach slow, listening over the crunch of each footstep for any sign of life at the camp. His rifle itching to be raised at the first sign of movement. Thomas scanned from tent to tent to the edges of the clearing, then up to the tops of the trees, looking for anything that could be waiting to pounce. He'd been ambushed like this before once. in Mongolia.

A group of cultists had been possessed by their pagan garden built destroy camps in the desert to lure in unsuspecting travellers for more sacrifices. When he got close to the camp, a group emerged from the sands with their sabers

thinking they'd made an easy kill. But, well, even then, vultures flew over the skies. He did nothing for his nerves when he made it to the first tent. This one was the most intact out of the three, with only small holes in abundance throughout the sides of the fabric.

Thomas noted the remarkable resemblance to bullet holes, as if someone had taken an automatic rifle and slew whoever was resting inside. He readed his rifle, and sigh stepped around the tent to the still-closed entrance. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, readying himself for what he would find on the other side of the fabric door. Slowly, he undid the zipper. The inside of the tent was unremarkable. Divide of life and the resident looked like he'd left in a hurry, leaving their sleeping bag half open and a bag of half-even chips next to it.

Their pack still nestled neatly in the corner. He stepped away from the tent and looked at the ground around it. Footprints led into the forest. He left in the hurry, Thomas spoke to the air. What were you up against? Satisfied that he would find nothing here, Thomas started with the second tent. This one had seen its better days. The top of the dome dent had collapsed, as if taking an impact from a large weight.

A portion of the fabric near the end had been ripped open to a shoulder-width hole, revealing the head of a sleeping bag. No footprints or drag marks surrounded this tent. Ripped from the bag and into the sky. Why the different M.O. from the first tent, Thomas puzzled. He felt he would find his answer, or at least some semblance of knowledge at the third tent. He didn't even need to approach to know that he would not find that. The final tent lay in tatters across the campsite. Orange strips of fabric littered the area around it, leaving only the frame of the tent standing. Snow had been kicked into the tent's remains, covering the bag that had been left by its former resident. Thomas stood in wonder of the situation. He approached the centre of the camp where a few large logs surrounded a fire pit,

empty bottles of alcohol lay strewn about. Sitting at one of the logs, he held his hand out over the embers of a once large frame. Still warm, Thomas remarked. This happened recently. He gathered his thoughts. Something about this didn't make sense. Three-tenths, all attacked in different ways. It was uncommon for cryptids to work together on hunts.

Different species usually preferred to stay on their own, segregating their parts of the animal kingdom. It wasn't to say that they wouldn't accompany each other on hunts when they were desperate, but, well, Thomas knew that the things that lived in the forest of Alaska were capable enough, and large enough to handle a three-person camp by themselves. He would have seen scuffs in the snow, where the creatures would fight over the remains of those they killed, greedily picking over the meager scraps three people would provide.

The weirdest of all was there was no blood anywhere in the camp. With the ferocity the camp had been attacked, there should have at least been some blood, but Thomas found none. Just like the rest of the forest, this place. was dead. The only proof anything had been there were the ruins he now occupied. The only clue Thomas had left to go on was the footprints he'd found at the first tent. If he wanted to know what happened here, he'd have to find out what happened to that person. Before he rose from the log, Thomas spotted a box half buried in the snow next to him.

Picking it up, he found it was a frozen but still usable box of ammunition. 3.08 caliber. The civilian equivalent around his 762mm rifle was using close enough to allow it to fire. Not seeing a rifle at the camp. At least Thomas knew his survivor was armed. However, he wasn't sure how much that would help him or if they were still a survivor at all. As the sun drew lower still from its perch in the sky.

Thomas reached the edge of the clearing. He looked back. over the campsite and to the mountains which for so long was something that called to him at arm's reach now seeming impossibly far away with a deep breath thomas followed the footprints into the wood-life thomas tracked the prince for around an hour they led him through an erratic path through the forest twisting and turning in no particular direction at times the prince would stop behind a felled tree or mass of foliage as if they'd stopped a hive from their bazawer before taking off again in a different direction than before whatever destroyed the camp wasn't happy they let one get away it seemed thomas assumed that they'd followed the survivor through the branches seeing as how there were no tracks but the survivors this still puzzled thomas because even then there would have been debris from the impact of the creature littering the ground where they jumped and hiding behind objects not beneath them would give the creature clear sight to the survivor. That glue ruled out flyers too. No, the assailant had to be ground base. The only thing that made sense to Thomas at this point was a spectre of sorts, ghosts or demons

with little to no tangible effects to the world around them, unless they were extremely powerful. Thomas had dealt with them before, on many occasions, in fact, but even they would leave signs of their existence. For the life of him. him, Thomas could not figure out what this creature was. As the sun dropped lower in the sky, his light no longer produced the warmth it had given the world throughout its time over the forest. Thomas drew his shimar higher across his face, leaving only a slit for his eyes.

He was starting to get worried. Tracking the footsteps through the dark would be a challenging task, especially with the possibility of an unknown creature stalking the area. you'd need to find camp soon but if he did the chances of the survivor still being alive would decrease from slim well from slim to none so he would press on deeper into the unknown something told him he had to it was then he felt it as the light began to fade giving way to twilight thomas felt that twisting knot arise in his stomach he wasn't alone anymore his senses came to high alert eyes scanning his environment ear straining in an attempt to hear the slightest breath that was not his own there was no sound no movement but thomas knew he had just become a target a hunt was on his pace quickened lining up with the frantic steps of the tracks he'd been following he wanted he was

wanted his target to feel like it had the upper hand. In his peripherals, he caught a flicker of movement between the trees 30 metres away. It was fast, quiet. Still, Thomas moved forward. The dead forest never felt so alive. The tracks took a right turn, heading up a shallow embankment. Thomas followed them, and whatever was with him gave chase.

They took him to the bottom of a shallow cliff face. as he moved much as he thought the survivor was at this point in their journey. He saw that they were running too. There was a hole in the cliff, a cave, and the footprints headed into them. He heard them, a scurrying feet through the snow, walking, and then running then. Thod. Thomas turned to the direction of the sound, raising his rifle. About ten metres from his bed.

barrel sat no creature. There were no footsteps, no sounds of his assailant. Instead, nothing more than a sapling stood before him. A single growing tree among its siblings of giants, verged by the looks of it. But why, in the dead of winter, did this child have green leaves sprouting from it? The forest had returned to death. Thomas was alone once again, save this sapling that defyming that defied. what Mother Nature had instructed it to do. The weirdness of the situation overpowered him, and the twisting feeling in his gut ensured Thomas that he was not safe. But he had found his survivor.

When Thomas stepped into the cave, he was greeted by a tunnel that twisted and turned for about 20 metres before he saw a light coming from a round event. There was a fire here, giving Thomas hope that his next clue to the situation was alive. took a few more steps before hearing rustling from in front of him help Thomas began to speak when he got to the corner but his greeting was cut short by the report of a rifle and debris falling from the wall beside him

planting himself firmly against the cave wall ensuring that he would not be the next thing to be struck by a bullet he spoke again what the hell are you doing thomas yelled into the cave please just just go away the voice was a surprise to thomas he hadn't counted on his survivor being a woman especially one with a voice that filled the air such as hers soft and sweet even when panicked did she come here from the camp thomas replied to her ignoring her pleads i have a gun I know how to use it. I'm not here to hurt you. Thomas spoke calmly. I found your camp a few hours ago. I tracked you here.

I'm a friend. I'm here to help. No, reply. I know you're scared. Thomas continued. I can help you, but you need to let me. How do I know that? The woman joked back.

She was afraid of Thomas. It made him think that whatever she'd seen look close enough to human to be mistaken as one. It could possibly even talk like them. You're alive, aren't you? No response. Look, I'm going to come out, but if I do, I need to know you're not going to shoot me. I handle things like this for a living, and I'm not good to you, dead. Thomas spoke slowly to her, trying to cut.

as best he could. Put down the gun, he continued. Can you do that for me? Okay, the woman spoke, almost in a whisper. Just, please, don't hurt me. Thomas heard the clatter of steel against rock. He stepped from his cover into the light of a dimly lit fire, illuminating the small cavern.

The woman sat, pressed against the back wall, rifle by her side, knees drawn to her chest, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was younger than Thomas, maybe 28, short brown hair clinging to her face. One of her pant legs was stained, a dark crimson colour. She'd been injured. Thomas removed his shemmer from his face before approaching her, revealing that he was, in fact, human. Taking a knee in front of the woman, he stared into her deep, deep. blue eyes before speaking. It's going to be okay.

You're safe now. As she broke into tears. Thomas thought back to the mountains. Their majesty once a tangible place. Now seem to an impossible dream. Today's show is sponsored by A.G.1. Well, 2025 is almost here. In the new year, is often a time where people start to

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That's drinkag1.com slash CREEPE-E-E-P-E-N. Check it out. Our second story tonight is, I used to think that ghosts don't exist by mammoth formal one. Ghosts don't exist. It all started a month ago when we went into that goddamn house. We all grew up being told that the house was evil, forsaken, touched by the devil's hand, or whatever other synonyms for bad juju you can think of. I guess we were just dumb kids because one month ago today we decided that we'd finally go to the old Combs mansion Oh what in God's name would compel a group of three 19-year-old guys to do this

I don't know call it skepticism or maybe a macabre curiosity You see we never really believe the stories we heard about the house We'd all heard them growing up yeah you know the stories of abuse and rituals that allegedly went on in that place. But we had to see it for ourselves, just to prove that it wasn't true. Oh, I wish now, more than anything, that we hadn't. A month ago on a clammy overcast night, I sat around a bonfire in the backyard of my parents' house with my two childhood best friends, Alex and Phil. We're enjoying a few beers and telling college stories since we all went to different campuses, but we were all home for spring break. It seemed like that. It seemed like that. We're just a

thing to do. Alex was telling a story about a fling that he'd had before coming home for spring break, and he'd broke it off because he was into some kind of witch shit. Phil and I laughed at this absurd story that he was telling. A witch? Yeah, right man, Phil said. Alex responded by saying that she was crazy. Allegedly, she'd sacrificed a dog to Satan before. We all know that witchcraft garbages the hugs. Just scary stories that our parents told us to make us behave when we were five. Alex quit back by saying, That's bullshit, man. You remember that old Combs' house? When we're always told to stay away from us, kids.

Oh, that place still gives me the creeps. So replied. What? The witch house? This is why you got bullied in high school, while laughing, obnoxiously. I could sense the agitation between my two friends at this point, so I said, well, if it'll shut you two up, why don't we go check out the house? Phil replied immediately with, uh, dude, hell yeah, and pulled out the keys to his Subaru. Well, at this point Alex looked concerned, all colour draining from his face.

He weakly said, you know, guys, well, it's getting late. I think I'm going to go home. "'Ah, you're such a girl,' Phil exclaimed loudly. "'Dude, come on. Why you being such a bitch?' "'I rolled my eyes. "'Phil is always such a clown.' "'Fuck you, man,' Alex exclaimed in an annoyed voice. "'I'll go to the stupid house.'

"'After a few minutes, we all piled into Phil's car, throwing a twelve-pack in the back seat for a good measure. "'We drove for what seemed like an eternity, even though it was only about a 20-minute drive. Naturally, we drank the entire time. The old Colm's house was only 13 miles from town, and it was allegedly haunted by the ghost of a long-dead family member who was rumoured to be a witch back in the day.

As we drove it got darker the further we got from the streetlights. It also got quieter the closer we got to the house. Eventually all we heard was the rattle of the old car going down, the back road. Finally, we got to the house and began driving up the long, crumbling cobblestone driveway. The driveway seemed to go on for a mile, but maybe that was just because we got to go two miles an hour not to blow out of time. The driveway was shrouded in trees, half dead from the winter that had just ended. Yo, Phil, why's your car such a piece of shit? Alex yelled from the backseat. it's better than yours bicycle boy phil retorted and then we saw it the house the depressing looking stone and log structure stood two stories tall

most of the windows have been broken and half of the roof was caved in on account of the large tree sitting on it dude let's turn around Alex said in a nervous tone, his voice cracking slightly. I was silently thinking the same thing when Phil let out a cry off. Oh, that driver was about 80 miles long, and I almost lost a tire about four times. I'm not leaving until I see a witch. I told Phil, Alan Accombs has been dead for almost a hundred years, dumbass. Don't you remember any of the stories that our parents told us? Phil responded with a snarky attitude

She's a ghost, dumb ass We finally parked the car and began the trek up to the house It's pitch black inside The only illumination coming from our cell phones We could hear the gravel crunch under our feet When suddenly Phil let out a shrill sounding yell Oh Twisted my ankle

I turned to look at him I saw that he was fine "'You've been a baby. Come on, let's get this over with,' I said in a short tone. As we approached the front door, which was caved in almost completely, the chill shot down my spine. But like any self-respecting college-age guy, I ignored this feeling, not wanting to be called a bitch by Phil yet again. We had to climb through the caved in door, and when we got in, we were immediately faced with a shranked. of blackness. I can't see shit,

Alex said. Hold on, I have a flashlight on my phone, I said as I pulled out my phone and turned it on. The others all did the same. Holy shit. How long has this place been abandoned? Phil asked as he moved his light

across the room, illuminating a dusty, moldy living room that was littered with broken furniture. I don't know. Maybe 75 years. I said, despite being completely clueless. He kept looking around the room in the surrounding hallways. It was just a dusty old house.

No pentegrams, dead ghosts, or sacrifices to be seen. Phil began to rummish through the cabinet, and Alex looked at some of the old-timey portraits on the wall. Yo, guys, check this out, Phil said, while holding up a small doll that he'd found in a cabinet. I knew something was wrong with this doll. as soon as I laid eyes on it. It was stained brown, almost like blood had dried on it.

Um, is that real hair? I asked, sheepishly. I don't know, Phil replied, sounding almost as nervous as I was at this point. There was a single, long needle going through the doll's head. Something was wrong with this place. Very wrong. It was quiet and the air around us felt heavy. What the fuck is that? Alex said nervously as he pointed to an old family portrait

of a family who must have been in the combs. Those are witches, obviously, Phil declared obnoxiously. No, I mean, why is the little girl scratched out of the picture? Alex said, a nervous tone permeating his voice. "'I'm not sure. "'I didn't think the combs had a daughter,' "'I said, as I was overcome by an uneasy feeling. "'Hey, guys, I think we should go now.

"'Look, we saw the house. "'It's just an old house. "'No witches,' I said. "'Yeah, maybe you're right,' Phil said. "'Phil then reached into his pocket to get his key so we could leave. "'Um, we have a problem. Where the hell are my keys?' he asked, while sounding extremely tense. You probably dropped them while you're rummaging around in that stupid cabinet, I said.

Phil wet down and began looking around on the floor, his flashlight illuminating the damp, moldy floorboards. "'What is that?' Alex asked as Phil's light floated over a handle on the floor underneath. the cabinet. Hmm. Looks like a trap door, Phil said. And then, out of nowhere, a sickening feeling of dread

mixed with an insatiual curiosity hit me, as if there was some kind of terrible secret I just had to know, hidden underneath that door. I'm going down there. Help me move this cabinet, guys, I said.

No chance in hell, Alex exclaimed in sheer pattern. at this point. I was getting angry at this point. God, well, we should have just left. But I remember saying, Alex, you'd better fucking help me or else. Phil just stood there quietly, looking very nervous, until finally he chimed in. All right, man, just calm down. We'll help you. I heard Alex exclaim under his breath. What the hell is the matter with you, man? I didn't know. Something had just come over me.

A horrible feeling. Rage. Disgust. I finally mustered up the courage and replied. I don't know, man. There's something wrong with this place, and I think we'll find out if we move this draw. We moved the dresser,

and what we found, dear God I wish we hadn't. Upon opening the trap-door that was hidden underneath the door, underneath the cabinets, we found human remains, partially skeletal and partially preserved. Oh my God! Alex yelled. That's a fucking corpse! Phil screamed. I panicked, overcome by a sense that something truly horrible had happened here. I illuminated the body with my flashlight. It appeared to be a girl, a small girl, maybe five-foot

tall, wearing a grey, tattered gown, with the same brownish bloodstains that were on the doll. It looked just like the doll, Phil had found earlier. What is that? Alex said in a terrified voice while motioning to a small, leather-bound book next to the body. I don't know, I said. Phil proclaimed again, Oh, that's her spellbook. Oh, we need to leave and call the police dude. It was at that moment I knew that we had to read that book. Hold on. We need to read it.

They had a look of sheer panic drawn on their faces, but for some ungodly reason, we didn't run then. We didn't run when we could have. They opened the book and began to read aloud. It's my dearest daughter. I'm so sorry, but you had to be kept away from the world. I felt my heart sink. This was a diary, the diary of Elena Combs. The stories had been true, at least partially. Elena wasn't the witch. She was, I said, gesturing towards the skeletal remains we'd just unearthed. Dude, I told you, these people were supernatural lunatics phil exclaimed hold on i said as i continued to read the diary outlined how after susan the name of the girl whose courts were just unearthed the entire family died one by one with angus combs dying of a gunshot wound to the head while hunting and samuel coons the son dying during world war one the needle threw the dahl's

head. Phil's voice cracked. No way, man. I continue to read. Eleanor had gone mad in her grief. She locked her daughter in her room for years until finally she made a tree fall on the house when she caused a terrible storm. Following this, Eleanor dumped. She let her daughter starve to death in her own home and buried the body under the floorboard. But a According to the diary, it took a long time for Susan to die, because she'd eaten her fingers and parts of her flesh. A tree, Alex muttered, looking up towards the ceiling which had a massive hole in it with the limbs of a large, dead willow dangling through it.

I then looked down at the hands of the corpse. She had just one finger. I took a deep breath before I finished reading. I felt as though I had an obligation to tell the people. poor girl's story at this point, but also I was full of a sense of dread. He concluded, thus finds this diary, you have found her, and may God save your soul. We left shortly afterward and called the police once we got back into town. We were all in shock from what we'd seen. after giving statements and being told that we'd be facing trespassing charges we bowed to never speak of this again to anyone i'd hoped we'd be able to forget about what we'd seen alas no

the night after we'd returned home i struggled to find any sleep but when sleep finally came it was interrupted i heard a nauseating sound the kind of sounds you'd hear when stripping a deer, crunching of bone and squishing of flesh, coming from the corner of my bedroom. I could see the outline of a figure, curled up in a fetal position. I picked up my phone and used the flashlight to see better. There was nothing there.

It must have been a figment of my imagination, most likely assimilated from what we'd discovered in that house. God, what have we found? I thought to myself before falling back into a feverish sleep. This sleep was plagued with terrible dreams, dreams of animal sacrifices and silhouettes of demons dancing on a wall, illuminated by candlelight. The next day when I told to Alex and Philip, they were exhausted. They'd experienced the same disturbing apparition and the dreams. It must have been a dream, Alex said, and a shaky nerve. of his tone. Yeah, right. You heard what the diary said. We're cursed, Phil said in a panic voice.

Haven't you guys taken psychology yet? The brain can do crazy things when stressed, I tried to explain. Well, I hoped it was just our minds playing tricks on us, but secretly I knew it wasn't. I knew that whatever we'd uncovered was now haunting us. For a few weeks we continued to have the same visions and disturbing dreams at night. We continued to talk about it every day, despite saying we would try to forget about it. We couldn't. She had latched on to us. One night, about two weeks after the first apparition, it started getting worse.

As I slept the same uneasy sleep that had become the norm, I saw the same silhouette again, except this time it was standing. It was closer to the end of my bed this time. I heard the same disgusting sound. Almost as if, oh God, no, I thought. I picked up my phone off the nightstand and used it to illuminate this figure in front of me, and I wish I hadn't. There she was, in her tattered clothes, the grey rotten flesh peeling off her bones.

She looked down at the floor, a long black hair partially obstructing her face, and I threw up all over my sheets at what I saw next. She was gnawing through her fingers and swallowing pieces of them, thick, black blood dripping onto my floor and fling up her rotten mouth. I screamed, petrified of the horror that was sitting in front of me. What the hell's going on? My mother screamed as she barred through the door and turned the lights on. The apparition had vanished. What happened? Are you sick?

My mum said in a panicked tone upon seeing me vomit on the floor. Oh, nothing, Mom. Must have had some kind of fever dream and then threw up. Upon hearing this, my mum calmed down and finally left. I cleaned up my vomit, but I wasn't able to fall back asleep. I just couldn't see her. Thing again. The next day I told my friends what had happened.

The same thing had happened to them. What does she want? Why is she here, man? Alex said in a shaky voice. I don't know. I wish I did, I said. There's nothing we can do. She won't leave us alone. She's a ghost. We should never have gone to that damn house, Phil said, following out with an apology. I'm so sorry. This was all my fault.

I just wanted to see the witch house. It's okay. We all thought it was fake, I replied, feeling smitten. We were all unsure and very afraid. What is she wants? How would we make her stop? A few nights passed with nothing happening. Well, had whatever we disturbed turned its gaze away from her? I wish. But sadly, no. Things only got worse from there.

I don't remember how many days had passed, but I was once again awakened by the sound of gnashing flesh and crunching bone. The stench of something long dared assail my nostrils. I sat up immediately and looked around my room, but I didn't have to look far. She was standing right next to my bed, less than a foot from me. I tried to scream, but no air escaped my lungs. There I was looking directly at her. Her matted black hair no longer covered her face.

I could see the coagulated blood on her face. Her eyes or lack thereof. stared into my soul. I looked directly into her cavern-like eye-sockets and was overcome by fear. There was a literal, dead witch right in front of me. This encounter felt like an eternity, but was in reality only a few seconds. It ended when she lifted her mangled, rotting hand and pointed at me with one finger, the one finger she had left.

blood dripping all over me at this point I was frozen she opened her mouth and let out a groan as if she was trying to scream but her vocal cause had decayed away I knew that I was going to die at that moment but then she vanished the following day we all met again we had to do something about this we had to find out what was afflicting us Alex's parents' kitchen made a strange venue to discuss the entity that was haunting us, but, well, there's no way I'm going back to that house, Alex exclaimed. I explained to him that we had to, and that we'd be no worse off than we are now. Phil was silent, a miracle considering we could rarely get him to shut up, but we could tell something was wrong. What did you see? I asked. confused at his silence and lack of emotion. I don't know what happened, but that thing crawled on top of me last night.

Phil said, his emotionless face contorted into one of a repulsion and fear. We looked at him, concerned on what he was telling us, but before we could speak he followed up with a shaky voice. She's evil. She wants us to suffer the same way that she did. Our conversation fell mute after that, just abject silence, but I could tell that we all agreed. We had to go back to the house. It was settled.

We returned to the house, hoping to find more clues as to why this was happening to us. We agreed to meet back here at night because we might have to sneak back to the house. It was too risky going in broad daylight, with it now being a crime scene. I returned home and tried to go up. about my day. I researched witch-hunting and how to exercise a ghost, but it was all clearly bullshit. The entire day, I could hear it, that sound of flesh and bone being gnawed on and the groan of decayed vocal cords. But I didn't see her anywhere. I decided to head back out as it got darker, and I could smell the stench of rotting flesh coming from behind me, but there was

nothing and yet she was stalking me when i arrived at alex's house he was already ready to leave dude let's just get this over with he said in a rushed nervous tone but where's phil i asked oh he should show up soon he said we waited five minutes passed and then thirty and then an hour We tried calling our friend probably a dozen times, but it always went straight to voicemail. We need to go to Phil's house, I said, and Alex agreed. We were hoping that he'd just fallen asleep, but, well, we knew that something was wrong as we drove on the backroads that led to his house. It was dark and clammy out, and it had started to rain. As we drove, we had to keep the lights off, because we could see her standing at a long.

along the road pointing at us with a one remaining bloody finger. We didn't speak for the entire car ride. There was nothing to say. What was happening was impossible. Ghosts aren't real. Neither are witches. Yet here we were, seeing the ghost of a witch. Finally after what felt like an eternity of driving, we saw it.

My heart sunk. sitting in a ditch crushed against a tree was Phil's beat-up car. The light's still on. Oh shit, we have to help him, I exclaimed loudly as I slammed on my brakes and stopped the car. We ran over to the car. Phil was in it, but he was gone. The steering wheel had punctured his chest cavity and his head was smashed into the windshield. Oh, what the fuck, man?

Alex said, screaming at this point. Our friend's dead, or because we wanted to go to some fucking house. We don't know that. Maybe you just lost control, I replied, knowing that I was just lying to myself. I knew that he had seen her. But then, it hit me.

Phil's hands were wrapped around the steering wheel. His fingerless hands. Well, all except for one. which was outstretched and pointing to a small clearing. There she was, staring at us. She was illuminated by the headlights from Phil's car, and I was terrified. This thing had killed our best friend.

She smiled a sickening, twisted grin, black blood flowing out from her mouth of rotten teeth. We ran and got into my car and sped off, almost going off the road at several points. finally when we got far enough away we called 9-1-1 we found a spot to pull off the road and wait for the ambulance finally we saw the lights of the ambulance coming our way once they passed us we followed them to the crash site when we arrived we were horrified to find that phil's body was gone do you think that she took him could he still be alive Alex whispered not wanting to be over her by the paramedics. I didn't know. I had no idea what could have happened. Did Phil somehow survive the crash? No, that was impossible. He was dead. Anyone with injuries like that would be dead. I don't know, I said, trying to sound as collected as possible. After being questioned by the

medics, the police arrived and asked us even more questions. Well, we answered them to the best of our ability, but we had no real answers for them. "'We need to go to the house. "'This has gone far enough,' I told Alex. "'Yeah, right. "'Let's go,' he replied. "'The drive there was tense, nerve-wracking. "'So much had happened in the past month.

"'What are we going to do, man? "'We're fucked. I mean, she's going to kill us, just like she killed Phil.' "'Alex let out, yelling from my passenger seat. "'We don't know if Phil's dead. maybe he was able to walk away I replied knowing that I was wrong I was just trying to cling on to any

semblance of reality no one could walk away from that his fucking chest was caved in Alex screamed now sounding angry and frantic I didn't say anything but I knew he was right

this ghost or witch or whatever the hell it was that killed our friend We finally arrived at the house. The drive took what felt like an eternity. When we arrived, the house was dimly lit, as if by candlelight. She's waiting for us, Alex said, staring at me with transfixed eyes. What the fuck are you talking about? How do you know that? I asked.

Why else would there be lights on in that place? Alex yelled back at me. He was right. But we had to go inside. We needed answers. I mean, what other hope did we have? We sprinted up the dilapidated cobblestone driveway, not caring if we fell or broke our legs. We dove through the broken front door and were greeted immediately by the stench of decay. I looked around the house. It was lit dimly by candles, but it was what was in the centre of the floor that made me lose it. laying in some kind of sigil on the floor that was drawn in blood was Phil's body. My heart sank. Standing directly above Phil's corpse was the ghost, groaning in a haunting, rhythmic manner, as if saying some kind of incantation.

Alex yelled as he lunged at Herbie, ended up stumbling over Phil's body and passing directly through the apparition, but she vanished at the very least. "'We need to get out of here. "'We need to get his body out of here, too. "'I'm not leaving him behind,' Alex said, "'still frantic after what had just happened. "'You're right.

"'Let's go,' I said, "'as we grabbed Phil's remains and carried him out of the door. "'Alex tried desperately to call the police after this, "'but it was no use. "'There was no signal. "'Oh, fuck, fuck!' Alex let out a cry, "'bursting into tears and falling to the ground. I wanted to curl into a ball and let that thing take me at that moment.

None of this could be real. This just couldn't be happening. You need to get help. We have to get out of here, I told Alex. We finally got up and we did the only thing that we could think of. We put Phil's remains in the trunk and tried to leave. But the car wouldn't turn over. Had I left the lights on? No, we were only in there for a few minutes. And then, in my rear-view mirror, I saw her, sitting in the back seat, reaching up to grab Alex, who was sitting next to me.

I cranked the car one more time and stomped on the gas. The motor roared to life and sent us barreling into the house. When I came to, everything was on fire. Alex was on the floor of the burning building, around ten feet from me, next to his head. was my car completely engulfed in flames. I couldn't feel my legs. I had to drag myself over to him, but as I did, that thing crawled on top of him. He was thrashing and screaming, but it was as though she weighed a ton.

He just couldn't move. She took her one rotten, twisted finger and put it over his face. Thick, black blood was dripping all over it. Next, she shoved the finger down his throat as he tried to scream. He flared and twisted violently, letting out muffled screams as he was choked and suffocating on her tainted, vile blood. Next, she let out that same hellacious groan I come to know, and extracted her hand from Alex's mouth. He went limp instantly, as she poured a black, hazy mist from his body. There was one last gasp as she pulled the soul from his body.

She proceeded to open her decayed mouth wide, her jaw seeming to unhinge, and devoured the black mist that came from Alex. He was dead. I let her a cry. Oh, God, help me! I screamed, as the building burned and the world went black. As I slipped into unconsciousness, she started to crawl towards me. The last thing I remember was her gangly, wrought limbs, crawling across the floor. A decaying mouth open wide with her hand outstretched towards me. I woke up four days later, in the hospital.

I was badly burned, and I'm now paralyzed from the waist down. I guess part of the ceiling fell on me as the building was burning. The firefighters aren't sure how I survived, and they say I'm very unlucky to be alive. But I'm not. I'm not lucky to be alive. She comes and goes, just standing in the corner, sometimes even in broad daylight.

She just stares at me and smiles that twisted, bloody grin as she points at me with her mutilated hand. She just wants people to know that she is real. So, if you're listening to this, now you know, I'm sorry. But it's the only way. Think about your health for a second. Are your eyes the first thing that come to mind?

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I'm Master LOL. Hey Bogdham, how far is that camping site you've been talking about? My friend Yannick inquired from the backseat of my run-down Vauxelastra. It was a truly beautiful early afternoon, driving beside the roadside tree line in the north of Scotland. Me and my two closest friends decided to go on a camping trip, a refuge from all the deadlines we had to meet. The weather was perfect. The sky was impeccably devoid of clouds, and the air was still. Not far, really, Ian. Just a few more miles and we're there.

Will your banger get us there, Danny? Vihon laughed. His face planted into his brand new phone. I can't find a lake anywhere near here. You don't? Really? I thought Google Maps had everything nowadays. Did you search for lock instead? Yeah, still nothing. Viann looked at me with a sliver of frustration.

Road trips weren't his strong suit. One of the reasons we decided he should take the passenger seat at the front. I hope it's close. It's really close. I promise you, my friend. I hope we get there before we die, Ian murmured from the back, winding down his window. Look, it's cold around here. Well, my friend, we are pretty much at the end of the world.

There's nothing past Perth in the north, our Indian classmate surmised. The three of us met three years ago at the opening ceremony at Edinburgh University. We were equally lost in our surroundings as well. Few others around us really spoke English as we know it. Vihan taught me he's from Mumbai, a rather big and gloriously colorful city in India. Yannick was born and raised down in Blackpool, his Polish parents immigrating to the UK some good 30 years ago during the collapse of the Eastern Bloc. At least he understood the locals a bit and could translate for the two of us.

We are a modley crew, aren't we? Ian remarked, looking at the rented camping equipment which kept him company in the back. His long, barely coordinated legs struggled to find a comfortable position. Other times his well-mended blonde hair would be a magnet for the girls, but now it just looked weird, pressed against the roof of the car. I found it funny how he put a huge jacket on top, but still wore shorts underneath. When we were done with uni, we should go visit your place in Bulgaria. I heard it's warmer there.

Vihan joked, knowing full where anywhere else in the world is warmer than God-forsaken Perth. After spending three years out here with the rainiers, I think we might want to go to your place, my man. Yanik swung forward, tapping V on the shoulder. Guys, we've arrived. I slowly drove the car off of the smooth tarmac and onto a tiny stretch of dirt road.

The final obstacle between us and the promise. land. Twenty or so minutes later, cheerfully filled with protest and remarks, we arrived at our destination. A small pristine lake lay there hidden from human civilization, untouched and undefiled. As its waters slowly drifted downhill around the rocks and behind the hill across, we started unpacking our homes for the next few days. I'll give it to you, Bogdan. This place is epic. The end of took in the dense cold mountain air and exhaled a cloud of steam. The smile finally returned to his face after the stiffening trip. Vihan was still shaking, but he seemed to be regaining his own colour.

He was a smaller guy of darker skin complexion with rough, messy hair. Nevertheless, he was also in his element in the great outdoors. I'd barely had time to take in the view when he got the tents out. Soon enough he started issuing orders as to how we were supposed to set up camp. He must be thrilled to finally walk on solid ground, my friend. I turned to him while trying to drive down one of the anchors. It's a simple task, but somehow I was capable of failing it. Here, let me help.

He basically yanked the piece of steel out of my hand, and with a single blur of the hammer, drove it in halfway. It's about reading the ground. You are strong. That's my problem. I scratch myself behind the ear. Why, my friend, I'm just helping. Well, if we were having a wrestling competition, you'd definitely win, my friend. I laughed. But why would we have a wrestling competition, Moldan?

What did I ever do to you? V smiled, fully aware I was about to propose something he wouldn't like. It's a matter of survival real. We have two tents and three people. One of us stays outside and freezes. You petty bastard, Ian intervened. Don't even think you can make me in Veehan sleeping the same tent again. It seemed he still bore ill memories for my last camping trip.

Honestly, he had a point. I got an air mattress for the car. One of us can sleep there. You sleep there both down. That Astra stink. like hell. Ian smiled in relief. Hell, that's harsh. The old banger got us this far into the wilderness. He show some respect. Viann quickly gave out a salute in the direction of the Vauxhall. We all laughed. Hey, Votan. Why don't he set up the chairs and table? Maybe start

something on the grill, Yannick suggested. I'm hungry like the wolf. Sure thing. Any preferences? Anything goes if you ask me but hey ask V he's a vegetarian in the group Ian smirked he wouldn't grace a table with his presence if it didn't feature stuff that was moving and breathing at some point that sparked a lot of debate with our Indian friend who was not only vegetarian but also quite passionate about it my friend I pack myself some stuff in the blue boxes Just please put them to cook before you put the corpses on. He glanced over at Ian. It was definitely annoyed.

After all, that meant he'd have to wait 15 or so more minutes before he himself could dig in. Now, don't kill each other guys. Look, it's going to be okay if you just relax and breathe. I giggled. Hey, mate. You want to be the first victim? Look, just get on with it already. I told you, I'm starving.

Yanik had a short fuse, even more so when he hadn't eaten. I decided I should heed his advice and get going. I got the chairs, the table and the bag with the cooking supplies, and set up a small dining area in between two pine trees towering besides the lake. Soon enough, I got Veehan's veggies cooking, followed by Ian's Asda meatballs. He bought well over two kilos of them, which was a bit perplexing. Hey man You sure will be able to eat all this today

I was kind of thinking of roasting some corn for myself Yeah sure It won't go bad It's ball-cracking cold here Ian looked my way His eyes fixed on the little gas grill You're right And I tell you

I'm a freaking master chef Just look at them I pointed at the now semi-done meatballs We might have to fight the wolves over them "'Count me in?' "'What? Wolves. You're joking, right?' "'Veehan started scanning the surrounding area. "'He's an interesting character.

"'I found it hard to tell whether or not he was actually worried "'or just messing with me.' "'They're so big, the locals call them demons,' "'I said, matter of fact. "'You come here not knowing?' "'Well, we're done with the camp, Bogdan. "'Do you need any help with the car?' Ian interrupted. No, the mattress came with a pump

You plug in the lighter I think I'm going to be okay Good thing you're driving an antique New cars don't have lighters anymore Really? I didn't know Anyway, if you are done Let's dig in It was early afternoon

The table was set And we enjoyed what was to be one of our last camping trips together We all had different plans for after we graduated Viharn was going to go back home and work in his father's company. Yannick wanted to stay in Edinburgh or perhaps moved to Glasgow, but definitely didn't want to go back to his parents' house. They seemed to be in perpetual argument. As for me, I was planned to go and settle somewhere in the south of England,

hopefully one day working my way into the city. As for now, I had all I could ask for. Good friends, good food, and this country. quiet, untouched haven, away from everything and every one. Even the weather was surprisingly good and mellow. It was still early in March, but instead of bone-rattling blizzards and icy rain, we got to enjoy a very still afternoon, only disturbed by our laughter and the chirping of birds. We opened a bottle of wine, supposedly handmade by Yanuk's grandfather in Poland, and let the time slip away from us. It was one of those days where all my problems could blur away into the distance,

and I couldn't care less about the world around me, just me, my friends, and the beauty of nature surrounding me. It was serene, pure, and I soon found myself lulled to sleep. I shook, forcing my eyes wide open, and ready to make fun of by my companions, but to my surprise, they were sleeping too. Hey guys, guys, wake up. You're going to freeze like this? I said, my voice raspy and crackling. I could feel my heart pounding against my chest, hearing my pulse in my ears. I gulped heavily.

Unable to shake this feeling that something had happened. I found it, well, creepy that we'd all fallen asleep so easily, especially considering the temperature outside. What, man? Ian whined. What do you want? Guys, hey, we all fell asleep at the table. We're going to freeze like this.

Vian was still cuddle up against his chair, his short curly hair moving slowly with the wind. There's something weird about this place, guys. I said, worriedly, still perplexed by the fact we'd all fallen asleep without even realizing it. Fihun led out of the way. a long yawn, barely opening his eyes. Ian shook him by the shoulder, which finally did the trick.

I hit so nice and warm. I froze. I was trembling so my dizzy mind didn't quite grasp it, but I was actually feeling really warm. I put my right hand against my face, and despite wearing no gloves, it felt unnaturally hot. There's something wrong going on here. We fell asleep without anyone realizing. And now we don't even feel cold. What? Um, I guess it's okay. Yanek interrupted me, lifting his hand and reaching out for his grandfather's bottle. I don't know. We were just tired. The trip was kind of long and then we ate. They say clean air and good wine make you feel sleepy. Perhaps you're right. Maybe I got jumpy for no reason. Yeah, man, it's fine. He reassured me, his voice echoing around us.

My friends, we were only out for 30 minutes. V pitched in. A little nap after lunch is healthy. Yeah, yeah, of course. I nodded my head, now ashamed at my reaction. I was worried my friends would pick on me for what I'd said. Look at the sun, it's almost gone. How about we call it a day?

I'm still pretty tired. We can wake up early tomorrow and hike. That's a good idea he had. Vihann agreed. He seemed the most tired of the group. I stretched my body, which had gotten stiff from the chair, and stood up. Guess I should go and fly at the Vauxhall Presidential Suite. I joked, still feeling really tired.

My friends nodded in agreement, and each of us went for their own quarters. The night had just begun, and I couldn't let go of this silent fear. fear, the creeping chills running down my spine, that something bad was about to happen. It was easy for me to prepare my bed for the night, but although I was comfortable, I think I wasted quite a few hours trying to fall asleep. Those questions were spinning in my head, trying desperately to figure out what could have caused us to black out the way we did. We didn't even drink that much, especially me and Veehan. I thought it might really be. have been the air, so clean and crisp, that we got a sort of oxygen shock.

Oh, that was stupid, I murmured to myself. I guess you can really faint from too much of it, but it's so unusual. And then, a truly terrible thought went through my mind. What if someone had drugged us? That would explain the ease with which we all went under. I tapped on the passenger seat, searching for my With the light from it, I looked throughout my things, wallet, document holder, even went through my sack with clothes and hiking supplies.

Everything was there. That fact, instead of giving me relief, made me even more anxious. It wasn't a robbery and, well, there was nobody around us for miles, so if someone really did drug us, it must have been one of my friends. Maybe it was an ill-mannered prank, but it had gone way too far. Besides, who and how did they even put anything in my food? I started retracing the events that had unfurl before, but my memory was hazy. My senses seemed to have suffered from whatever had happened to me.

Guess that's why I felt so warm for no reason, I surmised, giving a quick and worried look to all four locks of the Astra. To my relief, they were all down, indicating relative safety, giving me at least some moments to react if someone did try to attack me in the night. I activated my phone's flashlight again and looked through the car for any item that I could use in case of an emergency. My frantic eyes stopped at the side of the hammer my companions had used to set up the tents. I grabbed it and clenched it with my fingers. I'm just being paranoid. They're my friends. I don't think they're capable of doing something weird like that.

Ian, Yannick, is a very straightforward guy. He's the sort to yell at your face, say stuff about your mother, and then apologize just a minute later. He never struck me as the kind to hold a grudge or plan a petty prank like this. And Vian, well, as I said, I often find him hard to read, but at the same time he's the most harmless guy I know. I was always so passionate about the event. abuse of firemen animals, and whatever people said despite him, he'd never retaliate.

He wouldn't shout at anyone, even if they were outright swearing at him. Did he snap? Ian always made fun of his beliefs. It's been years now, and V had never really done anything about it. Maybe he just couldn't take it anymore. Did he know I was going to sleep in the Vauxhall, parked some good 30 metres away from their tents. Is he going to do something to Yanik? Maybe not physically harm him, maybe just give him the scare of his life. I guess it would help his cause if I was very sleepy too, unable to react to whatever was going to unfold. Still, that means I'm safe.

As soon as I uttered those words, I felt deep, disgusting shame. It suddenly seemed so easy to sacrifice my friends for my own well-being. I'd spent years with them But all it took was a bit of doubt And I'd turned into an animal Sully driven by self-interest I threw the hammer to the back And tucked myself tight under the blanket

I'd already wasted hours Being scared for no reason I reckoned I'd need my energy For the long hiking tour we'd plan for tomorrow And unless I wanted to collapse on the way I'd really need to get some rest I felt warmth gently creeping across my skin, embracing me and soon enough hushing me silently to sleep.

An old lady's voice, breaking and sour, echoed in the air. I opened my eyes, shaken to my very core by the fact I wasn't in my car anymore. I was lying down on the same inflatable bed, but it was in a different place. The surroundings were similar, but there was a cave. A small, rocky entrance was leading to a little. pitch black hole in the ground. My heart jumped into my throat as I remembered the sound of the old lady. Is this a dream? I said to myself. Remember, she stood atop me, her blue icy eyes fixed onto mine. Her hair was white, brushing against the skin of my face, dancing with the freezing wind.

Her bony wrinkled hand held me by the chin, slowly sliding towards my neck. I jumped back, scared out of my mind, shouting. I awoke in a puddle of sweat, shuffling to find the light of my phone. I was shaking like a leaf, paralyzed by fear and confused by the inexplicable string of events that I had witnessed in the past few hours. First of all, we fell asleep at the table, and now I had this nightmare that felt so incredibly real. At least I managed to find my phone, and it gave me hope. It was just a few minutes to five. Dawn was on its way. I don't think I'll be sleeping any more after this, I told myself, and started looking for my clothes. Screams pierced the horizon. My two friends, they sounded as if they

arguing over something. Their voices were loud, but I couldn't quite grasp what they were saying. Maybe I was right. Maybe Vihan really did try to pull something up in the night. I guess I heard their screams, and that made me have a nightmare. I felt slightly relieved at the thought, that at least I seemed to be in control of what was happening around me, but that still posed many problems. If my friends were fighting, I had to go and try and help them sort it out. But if V had really gone crazy, what could I do? Regardless, I couldn't just stay in the car and do nothing. I quickly put my red mountaineering jacket on and rushed out.

In a few running steps, I reached the small encampment, froze. The sight before me being more terrifying than what I had initially imagined. Man, what the fuck? Do you mean you saw her too? I've heard a big ice shard slowly slide down my chest, exacting a piercing grip around my core. My heart skipped a beat, my teeth chattering. I knew full well what they were talking about.

Guys, I said, with shaking voice. My friends looked up at me. I saw her too, the old lady, and the cave. their eyes locked with mine our gaze is heavy with what we were about to say and do i don't know why but for some reason we all felt this urge like there was something drawing us into this forest at the far side of the lake i couldn't explain it and i guess neither could they but we just had to go hey friends why are you walking that way v inquired as Ian and I made some heavy steps towards the forest in the distance.

Don't you feel it too? I asked, understanding full well how insane I sounded. After all, there was no reason to go there. In fact, there was all the reason in the world to go the other direction, get in the car and drive the hell away from here. I do, but maybe we wait until dawn. What if she's still there right now? Aren't you guys scared? I hate to admit it, man, but yeah, I'm scared like an axe-bound chicken. Yannick whispered, undeniably shaken himself. Sorry, guys, I added.

I think I have to go. Unable to perceive what force or reason was driving me to run towards the dense, dark forest in the distance, instead of waiting for the dawn and the comforts its light would bring, I sprinted. Step by step I got closer and closer to the trees, and soon I jumped through the shrubs and into the unpersable black of the thick canopy. I saw no stars, no moon. Even the weak light of the impending daybreak was not strong enough to reach me, but I kept going. I don't know how, or why, but I just knew.

I knew where I was going. Not breaking my stride, I emerged through the trees at another clearing, much smaller than the one we set up camping, but this one had one distinct feature, a small pitch-black hole in the ground, eerily embedded in the rock of the hill behind it, taking a moment to catch my breath, finally out of my trance. My mind was getting to get to my heart. My mind was getting clearer. I felt I was coming back to my senses. Soon enough, I heard the calls of my friends. They were close by, searching for me. Yanik was the first to come out of the woods, shortly followed by Vihar. Hey man, what the fuck? Really, what the actual fuck are you doing? Ian exclaimed, unable to shake this same feeling I'd been having, the feeling of something

terrible about to happen. Bihann? Well, he didn't say a word. Even without looking at him, I knew where his eyes had wandered to. The cave. Something was calling me from within it. I made a step forwards.

No, no that this is a bad idea. Let's go back. Ian grabbed my shoulder. His hand was freezing cold. and he was shaking like a leaf. I must go. I forced myself out of his weak grip and ran straight towards the abyssal hole that called for me.

My friends rushed behind, desperately trying to catch up with me before whatever force was calling for us, took me in. In just a few giant leaps, I'd reached the cave and slid forwards, trying to make the small opening in the ground, the pass to what was surely a new world.

My companions jumped after me, trying to hold me back as I was making my descent towards the entrance. But they were not needed, they stated. My hands planted on an invisible screen on top of the cave opening. Viharn and Ian were flying behind me, driven by chivalry and the blind desire to save a friend in need. The momentum carried them over, the slippery ground underneath denying them grip. Soon their bodies came on top of mine, and all I needed was to move away, barely correcting their descent with my arms so they could safely drop in. As they screamed, their eyes asking a thousand questions which their minds could not put

words to. I told them, You were good friends. You have served me well. Now you shall receive a gift. Like a vortex of dark energy, the gateway of the cave sucked the them in, muffling their horrified voices and setting them free. It was such a beautiful night. So many stars shone atop the clearing. The fresh breeze carried the smell of pine trees, and I could hear the gentle rocking of the lake behind me.

Master will be pleased, I exclaimed, unable to hold back my excitement. The harvest will soon be upon us. Oh, how blessed the two of you must be to give away your mortal lives for him. Damned be my soul, but I envy you as I cannot this experience. It was all too tiring. How many years has it been?

I keep notes as I always forget after each rebirth. The North always beckons. me. But somehow when I try to write down the dates and the ears, my hand does not obey me. Alas, this body needs to sleep once more. I don't have much time left. I lay down, my weary back pressed against the bark of an old tree. I scribble these notes onto paper, and able to shake both the euphoria of what transpired and the weight of my rapidly aging eyes. I decide to sleep, for when I wake, I shall see my friends again, reborn, given the gift of my master. I must have been out for hours when I came to this interesting sensation. It felt like a tickle,

gentle as if someone was caressing my aching feet. I ran too much yesterday. I expended more than what I had. I open my eyes and I looked down. There I see two babies, mischapen, some would say, but I call them blessed. Last night they were given a gift more valuable than anything else in the world. They were bestowed with immortality. They bend over and pick them up. They seem hostile. I understand.

I don't hold it against them. They are ignorant. Yes, their new body's hurt. Their failing organs shall bleed, and their very soul shall throb in pain. But it's all for a good cause. Master is coming. They should be proud. Even if they do not see out of their blind, grey eyes,

even if their mouth shall stay forever dry and hungry, there is no higher honour than doing good by the master. Rejoice, my friends. You have obtained eternal life. I tell them. as I walked into the lake across the forest. Their weak bones crack and splinter in my hands, piercing their undeveloped infant lungs.

They let out tormented cries of pain and agony and blood, but it is perfect. Everything is as it should. Soon we reach the waterfront, and I take one last look at them. They still try to bite me with their missing teeth. The sight I find adorable. They were so different in life, but now all their beliefs are replaced by a truly greater

purpose, and all their foolish squabbles. What the other eats, says or does, now all that is for naught. Embrace the silent hunger, I tell them, walking forward still, soon replacing the coldness of the water for that special feeling, the unmistakable softness of human skin and muscle at my feet. How many times have I done this before? Perhaps a hundred, perhaps a thousand. I let my friends gently slip out of my embrace and watch them sink to the bottom of the lake. As they join the quiet choir of countless children's voices underneath the holy water, I record this message. My aged skin crumbles to dust. Once again I return to ash so the cycle can begin

and you. This life I lived without regrets, and I have yet again served my purpose. In a blink of an eye, you too shall come across this rock, and if master wills it, you shall have more time, more energy to spare. If so, read my notes, from now, from the past. I wonder how my short existence will compare to yours. Yours truly, yourself. And we round off tonight's tales of terror with Sea of Green by Michael Whitehouse. From the diary of Jake Sato, date in May 11, 2019. I've always tried to rationally think through how we got here. What happened to lead us down this path? Why did life turn out like this? And when I do, my mind always comes back to that summer's day in Scotland. Everything stems from that like a collapse vein, a happier time cut

off from us in the past, and nowhere else to go but this tainted present. Back in 1977, my wife, Jenna, and I saw something neither of us could comprehend, changed us forever. We were staying in a small Scottish village called Aberfoil for a week at the time. It was a quaint place, surrounded by pleasant rolling hills, woodland and locks. From our hotel we could explore the lush Scottish scenery, something Jenna had wanted to do since she was a kid. Her mother was Scottish, and although she'd passed away when my wife was very young, Jenna always felt a deep connection to the country.

It was a spiritual home of sorts, and she was fascinated by it. The far spaces of green and rock, clear blue waters, snow, rain, wind, and sun piercing through it, if you were lucky. It was a natural world in its element. Most of all, Jenna cherished the few memories she had of her mother, telling stories about Scotland. It was a mystical place for her and her family, and that pulled to see it first hand only grew stronger over the years.

I'd spent my childhood in a small town in the Midwest. I'd had my fill of nature, and preferred the streets of Boston as an adult, but when my wife turned 30, I knew that a trip across the Atlantic would make the perfect present. When I told her where we were going, she was so happy. Aberfoyle Village was barely more than a main street at the time, without our hotel, I say hotel, but it was more of a bed and breakfast, sitting on one of the rare, empty back streets.

At night the place shut down except for a solitary pub, leaving us to breathe in the relative silence and darkness of the surrounding hills and forests. The first night there we had dinner at a small restaurant. That night brought more than its fair share of surprises. The first was when I surprised Jenna with a silver bracelet engraved with a suitably soppy message on the underside. But that wasn't where the unexpected ceased.

Jenna then dropped the biggest surprise of all. She was pregnant with our first child. We've been trying for over a year and we were beginning to worry that something was wrong, and so to hear that she was pregnant was overwhelming. We celebrated Jenna on the orange juice, me on the scotch. The next day my head was pounding, and I asked that we stay closer to the hotel rather than have our planned trip into Glasgow City.

Jenna was a little put out, but by lunchtime my headache had lifted a little, and I suggested a walk through the countryside as a compromise. The night before, one of the locals had told me about a scenic walk through Queen Elizabeth Forest. It sounded perfect and just a short drive away. If I had to hurl, at least I wouldn't be doing it in front of other people. Jane was excited to get out and about, and we drove for about 20 minutes from Aberfoil and parked in a small makeshift parking lot inside the forest.

This was the place the trails started, and they could only be explored on foot. When we got out, the scent of pines was sweet in the air, and the fresh smell made me feel much better. Although I've been told the location is now more popular, on that day we saw no other cars on the road into the forest, and the parking lot itself was empty. The sun was high in the sky, and as we headed on foot towards what was supposed to be a relaxing forest walk, I remember smiling at Jenna.

Oh, she was so beautiful. A wooden information board showed us the route that we were to take. Given her condition, I didn't want Jenna to overexert us, so we took the path marked in green which meant it should have been the easiest trail and it was for a while the path moved through pockets of pine trees and had clearly been used many times before it was picturesque and with each step i started to understand why jena had been so happy to visit the place there's undoubtedly something necessary about getting away from the world to lose yourself in nature it's like we still have an ancient part of ourselves that gets nourished by the deep green As we strolled along the dirt path, we started talking about what we would call a baby, if it were a boy or a girl.

It was then that we realised we were not alone. In front of us, in the distance, a young boy walked out from the tree line and stood on the path ahead, about fifty yards away, just staring at us. He looked to be about eight or nine years old. Being in an isolated area, it would have been unnerving to begin with, but he looked to be about eight or nine years old. unnerving to begin with, but what immediately filled me with disbelief was the fact that the boy was clearly naked. The son reflected off of his skin and his pale colour was stark against the green of the forest. What do you do in a situation like that?

This was in the 1970s and although there were always whispers of terrible things happening behind closed doors, it was long before the public truly accepted that many children were being abused or mistreated. still the unsettling sight was soon replaced with concern for the child jenna picked up the pace and shouted hello but something immediately made me grab her hand and stop her from running toward the boy i asked jenna to stay put not just for herself but for our unborn child's sake the last thing i wanted was for a stressful situation to affect the pregnancy reluctantly she stayed where she was and i stepped forward towards a boy as I drew closer I realized just how pale and emaciated he was as though he'd been kept somewhere malnourished and away from sunlight for some time are you okay I asked were your parents he just looked at me the skin beneath his eyes darker than the surrounding skin cautiously I moved closer with my arms open so as not to scare let us help you. Maybe we could take you to the police or help find your parents. The closer I got

the more I felt the uncertainty of the situation. There was something very wrong with the boy. I expected him to move back or show some sort of fear, but he didn't. In fact, I was sure that a subtle grin momentarily flickered across his face before returning to the same somber expression as before. By this time, I was standing straight in front of him. I asked him, what's your name? Again he said nothing, but now he was looking intently into my eyes, and that gaze carried with it nothing but menace. The boy then reached out his right hand and touched the centre of my chest. The touch of his fingers left me unsure of myself. I turned to look back at Jenna down the path, to ask her what a little bit of my chest. To ask her what

I should do. As I turned, I heard a rustling sound, and when I looked back towards the boy, it was no longer there. I followed the rustling to the side of the path. The ground dipped down into a slight incline. There, the trees and bushes created thick clumps of leaves and branches. I looked difficult to traverse, and I thought that the boy's naked skin must have been scraped and cut to pieces running around in there. It was so dim between the trees, a tangled, green mess. Waiting for a moment, I listened. There was nothing other than the occasional creek of a branch swaying in the gentle breeze. Above, the sun shone down directly onto the path, but just a few steps forward, and I would have been engulfed by the dark of the forest.

The difference in light was stark in my mind, and although I wanted to help the kid, everything about the situation left me in a wary state of mind. Seeing no sign of the boy, I walked back to Jenna. She asked where he was, I said, I didn't know, and told her that he'd disappeared into the forest from my back was turned. Jenna looked pale, and she gave me a look look I knew only too well. I'd seen it a few times over the previous few years. Something was on her mind, and she just had to get it out.

Jenner looked me straight in the eyes and said, I never saw the boy leave the path. She insisted that it was as if he just vanished. One moment he was there, next he was gone. I was caught in a difficult situation. This was long before the common cell phone and one of us needed to alert the authorities that there was a young boy stranded in the woods,

running round as naked as a day he was born. considering how deep and thick the section of the forest around us was, he could easily have fallen and hit his head on the rock, or, later, died of hypothermia when the night came. There was only one thing we could do. One of us would have to stay put in case the kid needed help, while the other would walk back to the car, drive into Aberfoil and raise the alarm.

Now, there was no question that I would stay in the forest, but I didn't feel right about letting Jenna go back to the car by herself. Even if she hadn't been pregnant, I wouldn't have liked it. But Jenna was always stronger will than me, and although I would try to pull the usual strong husband routine common at the time, she was nearly always immune to it. Jenna insisted that she would head back down the path and that I should try and find the kid, but not stray too far.

She'd be back as soon as possible with help. I told her to honk the horn when she was leaving the parking lots. That way I'd know she'd got back to the kid. car okay. I got a smile and a roll of the eyes in return, but she promised to do it if it made me feel better. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and walked back the way we'd come. I watched her until she disappeared from view. Well, although I'd spent the last ten years living in Boston, I grew up in the Midwest, so hikes through the woods were not alien to me, but this was different. There was something off about that long stretch of path. It was flanked by pine trees so close together that the forest

was as dark as twilight once you stepped off the path and into it, and that was something I had no intention of doing. The tree line was like an impenetrable wall to me. Nonetheless, I stared intently at it in search of the smallest sign of life. I was sure that since I hadn't heard anyone moving around in there, the boy must still be near. You would have made too much noise moving through the uneven and cluttered terrain. There was a sense of loneliness about that place. No, not loneliness, but isolation. Like it was an arm cut from the body of the world. Such environments infect the mind with paranoia. As I was entering the stark atmosphere of the place, I get my eyes on the side of the path from where the boy had first appeared. My imagination took over. I began to think

about the kid, lost in the woods. I thought about how he'd gotten into such a situation. And those thoughts were too dark to dwell on. I turned my mind to a lighter explanation. Maybe there was a lock nearby, and he was swimming there with his friends, I thought. They took his gloves as a prank, and he'd followed the path trying to get back to town. Yeah, that made sense. It must have been something like that.

But why did he not speak to me? and what of his skin? It was unusually pale, and that flicker of a smile on his face. It caused me doubt just to think about it. Continuing my vigil, I wondered why Jenna hadn't honked the car horn yet as she'd left the parking lot. I was sure she would have made it back there by then.

That's what I thought. I saw movement. I didn't know if it was a deer or the missing boy himself. slowly I stepped forward to the edge of the path and peered in the quiet of the place took over and I stared steadily for any hint of movement I was so focused that I had no time to react to the real danger something walked out of the woods from behind me at speed

I barely had a moment to turn and when I did something large and white put its hands on me it knocked me from the path and as I fell down the incline into the trees and bushes in front, the searing pain cut across my vision. A branch of pine-needle scratched across my left eyeball, leaving me unable to see out of it. Instinct kicked in, and I fled deeper between the trees. The branches cracking and prodding around me as I did so. Blood and tears oozed from my injured left eye, and as I looked back momentarily with my right, I saw, standing on the sun-lead.

path, two people, a man and a woman. Both were naked, and their skin was as wide as the boys I'd seen, gleaming in the summer sun. Both figures stepped forward towards where I was. I quickly attempted to hide within the cutting embrace of a large pine tree, but it was clear that they could see me somehow. It was at that moment that I heard the distant sound of a car horn. A sense of relief cut through my adrenaline. I could at least be happy that Jenna had made it back to the car without incident, hopefully out of the forest and away from my attackings. The man and woman stared at me through the trees.

Their gaze dark and malevolent, angry even. When he and the woman moved to water I stood, I panicked and picked up a moss-covered rock on the ground at my feet. It was the only way to protect myself. I watched, anticipating their movements, waiting for them to attack. The woman spoke to the man, and her words were unlike any I'd heard before. It wasn't just the language that confused me, but I'm certain how any human could make such a sound. Beneath the words, there was an unusual noise.

Each word lay on top of a breath, like a storm swelling and pushing through a constricted space. The man answered with a lower, yet equally airy voice. There we were, waiting. I might not have understood the language, but I knew they meant to harm me. The first time, the thought that I might never leave that forest alive rose up in my mind.

Just as the man finally lurched towards where I was, my heart began to race. The sound of Jenna striking our car horn had made me feel more at ease. The second time it sounded put me on edge. When the horn sounded for a third, and then a final fourth time, I knew something terrible had happened. Jenna needed help.

There was no time for dialogue. These people, whoever they were, had undoubtedly hurt that boy we'd encountered, and now they were held bent on hurting me and my wife. I knew how many of them there were. I had to get back to Jenna to make sure she was okay. The man continued moving forward. The pine branches breaking against his skin. When he reached me, I let forward and swung the rock in my hand with all of my mind.

When it contacted his head, I was certain I had killed him. Something cracked inside of his skull. I felt it. Blood sprayed across me, and he staggered back onto the trail. I'll never forget the piercing inhuman scream the woman let out when she left. leaned over to help her bloody companion. The man's pale white face had come apart from the attack. His features now a flap of skin hanging from the side of his head. The woman stood up to come at me,

and, shocked at what I'd done, I ran back down the path. Looking back with my one good eye, I could see that she was still with the man's crumpled body, and so I focused purely on reaching Jenna. And when I got to the parking lot, I wasn't sure what I saw at first. The car door was open and Jenna was lying in the driver's seat. A small pale white figure was hunched over her, doing something.

As I ran to the car, the figure, who I could now see was the boy we'd first encountered, let out a screech and held a bloody mess in his hands. I was too late. The boy scabbled off towards the surrounding forest. But as he reached the tall grass just before the tree line, he stopped. Crouching down, he turned and stared at me. His white skin bleached red from my wife's blood. And now I didn't care if I was going to die.

I took a deep breath and turned to look at what he'd done to my wife. She was sitting in the driver's seat. Her eyes glazed, but I didn't understand. She was looking at me in a daze, smiling. There was no blood, no visible wound that I could see. I dreamt about our child, she said, and then she lost consciousness. I pulled her still breathing body out of the driver's seat and lay her gently in the back. She was talking to herself, mumbling something, as though she were in a deep, confusing dream.

My only thought was to get her to a hospital. Climbing into the car, I slammed the door shut. all the while the boy covered in blood, nestling something in his hands, stared at me from the tall grass. But he was no longer alone. The man and the woman I had encountered on the path were with him, and the man, who he bore a scar down the side of his cheek, looked as though his entire face had been sewed back on.

They watched silently as I drove out at the parking lot. I was left with the uneasy feeling that they'd allowed me to leave. Jenna recovered in a local hospital And to my complete surprise and joy Our baby was still alive and healthy inside of his mother Who spoke with the local police Of course no one believed us Why would they

There wasn't a scratch on Jenna And bizarrely even the blood which had sprayed across me During my fight on the forest path It vanished like a disappearing ink When I asked Jenna about what had happened at the parking lot she said all she remembered it was a flash of white on the windscreen as if something had jumped up

on the hood of the car and then nothing but she did say she dreamed about a crying baby months later when we were back in Boston Jenna gave birth to our son he was beautiful

we were happy for a few days to our horror just a short while after getting him home his skin began to change colour, like food going bad because of the air. His skin darkened as he cried for his life. I caught 9-1-1, but it was too late. He stopped breathing in Jenna's arms.

We were overcome with grief, grief that I can't describe. Looking down at our beautiful boy, his skin now the colour of mould. His eyes frozen open, looking up at us. We heard the paramedics come into our home downstairs, but before they reached us, the miraculous happened. Suddenly our sun began breathing again. His eyes rolled around, and then his skin began to change colour back to its original healthy tone. But the change did not stop. It grew paler and paler, until there was no doubt that we were staring at one of the children from the forest.

before our very eyes and I will swear this until my dying breath our sun then began to fade away just as the blood had evaporated on my clothes as the last outline of him vanished he led out the laugh of a child

far older than his few days that laugh moved off into the air and out through the nearest window fading to nothing if it wasn't for the paramedics who saw the last moment themselves, the police would have thought we'd disposed of our own child. He didn't. He was never our child to begin with. He was of the forest, and I'm certain that's where he now lives, lost in

a sea of green. And what of our own unborn child? Was he taken from Jenna's body at the forest? Is it possible he lives there too? That possibility haunts me, as do these memories I've finally put into words. Jenna and I remain married, though. We swore after that day never to have another child. Perhaps the effects of what we encountered in that forest still linger in her body. Who knows what we would have brought into this world? Jake Sato, May the 11th, 2019.

And so once again, we reach the end of tonight's podcast. My thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful things. 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.