Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S5 Ep235: Episode 235: Horror Stories for a Rainy Night

Episode Date: April 15, 2025

Tonight’s opening tale of terror is both parts of the epic ‘Don’t get The S.A.F.E. App – It’s free, but no bargain!’, a wonderful story by Michael G. Lockhart, AKA BearLair64, kindly shared with me via my sub-reddit and narrated here for you all with the author’s express permission: https://www.reddit.com/user/BearLair64/  Next up this evening is the five-part story ‘Bainbridge Asylum is Looking to Hire a New Director… Applicants Beware’ by Jeanius Breiling, kindly shared with me via the Dr. Creepen sub-reddit and narrated here for you all with the author’s permission: https://www.reddit.com/user/Jeanius_Breiling/   Tonight’s third terrifying tale of horror is ‘Do Not Let the Ghosts of Chernobyl Touch You’, a wonderful original work by Screwaudi, kindly shared with me for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all.  https://www.rddit.com/user/screwaudi/  Today’s next nightmarish tale of horror is the award-winning ‘Burnin’ down the Ozarks’, a brilliant original work by Baron Fist, shared with me via the Creepypasta Wiki and read to you all with the author’s express permission via the CC-BY-SA license:  https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/User:Baron_Fist  https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/Burnin%27_Down_the_Ozarks Today’s penultimate nightmarish tale of terror is the complete version of ‘The Human Experiment Chamber’, a brilliant original work by Baron Fist, shared with me via the Creepypasta Wiki and read to you all with the author’s express permission via the CC-BY-SA license: https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/User:Tiololo  https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/Human_Experiment_Chamber   Tonight’s final tale of terrifying police drama is ‘The Strange Cases of a Philadelphia Cop’, a wonderful story By Tazirai, kindly shared with me via Dr. Creepen’s Vault and narrated here for you all with the author’s express permission:  https://www.rddit.com/user/Tazirai/ 

Hey Ontario, come on down to BedMGM casino and check out our newest exclusive. The Price is Right Fortune Pick. Don't miss out. Play exciting casino games based on the iconic game show. Only at BetMGM. Access to the Price is right fortune pick is only available at BetMGM Casino. BetMGM and GameSense remind you to play responsibly. 19 plus to wager, Ontario only. Please play responsibly. If you have questions or concerns about your gambling or someone close to you, please contact Connix Ontario at 1866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge.

BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. Welcome to Dr. Creepen's Dungeon. You know what, there's something timeless and irresistible about curling up with a horror story on a rainy night. As the wind howls and rain taps against the window, the world outside feels distant, gloating darkness and mystery. The cozy safety of being indoors heightens the thrill. We know we're protected, yet the eerie atmosphere makes each creek and shadow feel like part of the tale. Horror stories feed our imagination. and on stormy nights, when the world already feels unsettled,

they allow us to flirt with fear from the comfort of a warm, familiar space, as we shall see in tonight's collection of 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. That sounds like your kind of thing. Then let's begin. Don't get the safer. It's free, but it's no bargain.

Brandon nodded along with the employee at the while, provider still. Using the process of changing providers and wanted to do it in person rather than online. It had paid off. This chick was pretty hot and smart, at least regarding tech. His girlfriend, Jennifer, wouldn't care that he looks. She did all the time and they happily discussed the hot people they saw each day. He wasn't really paying much attention as she went over features and options for his new device. She'd already completed the download of everything from his old one. He was now boxed and would be soon on the way to be refurbished and upgraded. He caught up as Denise highlighted a particular feature that was new to all devices.

One of the great free offers we have is the safe app, safe actions for everyone. We follow your activities and locations and make recommendations as to the safest cause. The best ways to proceed so that you can avoid danger are we take responsibility for your safety and that of all our customers. She held the device so that he could not look at it without viewing her impressive bust. He would have mindlessly agreed to anything she'd said at that moment. It was also ready to go and meet Jennifer for lunch at a nearby sandwich shop. They rushed through the final process to get this latest bill charged to his credit card. Jennifer was in a decent enough mood,

though she had nothing good to say about her co-workers at the medical clinic. She'd wanted to be a doctor and then a nurse and had settled for medical office assistant. She liked to complain that she knew more than anyone else at the office and should be the manager. She was ready to quit and find another employer that might appreciate her talents. So far no one was interested since she'd worked at four different facilities in the last two years. Brandon had possessed ambitions of becoming a games designer. When his mother remarried, the new couple decided that they needed room for his younger stepkids. So he'd taken a job at a big box electronics and tech store, moved in with Jennifer.

We liked it well enough, especially giving people advice on new products, and they'd lived together for most of the past year, the longest relationship either of them had ever endured. So, um, do you like it? Jennifer inquired. Uh, like what, oh, the device. His mind had wandered as she'd gone on

about her immediate supervisor being an old Gen Xer. Yeah, I guess. Slight better than my last one. got all kinds of free apps from the provider. Jennifer pretended interest if he listed the new apps, especially the games, so she could pretend interest in something he liked, and the ones that allowed viewing of reality programming,

something she liked. They finished lunch, another bill added to his credit card balance, and parted just outside. Okay, I've got to go to work. See you tonight? Brandon offered. Jennifer agreed and was secretly happy.

She'd have time to catch up on her shows in the hours he was still at work. In about halfway through his shift, the device booped softly. Brandon was in between customers, so he checked the alert. There was some notice from one of the new apps. He ignored it and went back to sampling the latest fantasy war game. The story encouraged sales employees to sample the games when they weren't busy so that they could highlight features for customers

and to keep them occupied and out of mischief. Management expressed that if customers saw a person, personal, enthusiastically playing a game, well, they'd want to play it as well. After a few minutes, the device booted, definitely louder than it had the first time. Brandon didn't check it this time. He'd reached a critical point in the game and was too excited to be distracted. Thirty seconds later, the device booped and buzzed, a heavy vibration that caused Brandon to lose concentration on what he was doing and paused the game. He was annoyed and looked at the text bubble on the screen. We have been unable to confirm your status. Are you safe? Yes, no. Do you need help?

Yes, no. Brandon gaped and stared in confusion. Why would they send me that? He saw that it was from the safe app. Must be testing. Some of the new apps would likely send him notices for the next few days. He clicked the yes and then the no buttons and the bubble faded from the screen. He'd forgotten about the app by the time his shift ended and the store closed. He walked out to his little sedan through the darkened parking lots. A row of lights had gone out earlier in the week and he'd forgotten and parked in that area. As he approached his car, he saw that a figure stood near to the much nicer vehicle that belonged to his manager Barbara. The figure wore dark clothes and a hoodie and lurk back in the shadows.

Brandon's device began to vibrate intensely. He continued to approach his car. He was probably an employee from one of the other stores in the strip mall, out taking a break. Hmm, a little worn for a hoodie, he absently thought. He knew that Barbara was closed in the store tonight, and this was his only shift that allowed him to leave when the last customers did, otherwise he'd still be inside helping her. The figure appeared to watch him in the store tonight.

as the device continued to buzz insanely in its holder. Brandon arrived at his car and stood outside the driver door as he started to fish for the keyfold. The figure in the shadow shifted to better view what he was doing, though he didn't notice. What other people did was not his concern. It wasn't his place to judge. He used the fob to start the engine, and as he opened the door, a voice startled him. Put that fub in the front seat and get out of here. Brandon was confused.

Why would anyone demand that he leave his fob in the car and walk away from it? That was a stupid thing to say, and the tone of the speaker annoyed him. He looked up as the figure approached. It was tall and broad-shouldered, and he was holding a pistol. He couldn't clearly see the face, but he could feel the menace implied in the demeanour. He didn't know what to say or do. He simply stared at mouth agape. Don't just stand there drooling, darned.

get out of you the man didn't exactly shout but he was clearly agitated his voice was clear through the black face mark that hid his features but but sir this is my car brandon stuttered as his device continued to vibrate almost uncomfortably against his side he reached down to hit the button on the side of it to stop the sound the alleged carjacker reached out with his free hand and yank the device from brandon's heart shoulder. Hey, that's new! He dropped the device in surprise. It had delivered a mild shock to his fingers. Look stupid. I'm taking your ride. Well, I wanted that fly right. He chuffed his chin toward Barbara's SUV. I'll take yours since you want to look at me so hard. Brandon's device

lay on the ground, no longer vibrating. He wondered briefly whether it was broken. He purchased a protective cover for it, but still, sirens now sounded in the near distance. He didn't notice it, but the suspect did. That one knew the difference between an ambulance and a police siren, and he saw the flashing lights, still a few blocks away but approaching fast. He shoved Brandon aside, slid into the driver's seat,

and took off from the parking lot. He made it partway down the block when the police vehicle turned into the entrance. Out on the roadway Brandon's come, car died and rolled to a stop. The car had gone too far from the fob, which still dangled in Brandon's relaxed grip. The officer must have noticed that the little sedan had stopped, and that all of its hazard lights now flashed. The unwelcome occupant leapt from the driver's side door and fled on foot. The officer turned his vehicle and drove back into the lot and toward

Brandon. They soon completed a witness statement, and the officer spoke with Barbara, who let the officer look at the security footage. Brandon texted Jennifer to let her know what had happened, but she was too absorbed with the latest reality show to notice his reality. He'd had to clear several notification bubbles that screamed, Police have been notified. Police are on the way. We will keep you safe. When he was finally freed from the scene of the incident, no crime since there was no suspect in custody,

Brandon finally made it home. As he pulled into his assigned space at the apartment complex, the device booped. He'd been pretty happy with the app for silently alerting the police. But he hadn't noticed the shock anti-theft feature. He thought that the robber had just dropped the device. He checked the screen. Are you safe? Yes.

No. He clicked yes and went inside to see Jennifer. They each had a room and acted as much like roommates as a couple. "'Hey, Jenny, you get my text?' She raised up from where she laid sprawled on the couch, snacks and drinks littered around her, viewing space. "'No, babe, what's up?' He told her, and was rewarded with sympathy

and the chance to share her bed for most of an hour. Afterwards, he went to his own room, very satisfied. No sooner had he stepped out of the shower than the device booped. He dried himself enough that he wouldn't get the thing wet when he touched it, By then it had booped and buzzed. Even as he thumbed open the screen, her voice emitted from the speaker. You have continued to engage in moderate risk behavior. Are you well?

Do you need assistance? That was a pleasant enough, of annoying voice. What the fuck, dude? I'm like sharing. Why do you keep bothering me? The voice spoke again. You ate a meal with poor nutritional qualities, including meat.

You played a violent game that might harm your psyche, lue you into dangerous acts. You ignored rational safety protocols when entering an unsafe area after dark. You've engaged in unsafe sexual acts. Your shower has worn slip resistance and the water was too hot to ensure a balance of moisture content in your skin.

Any of these could have caused great physical, mental, or emotional harm. We are here to ensure that you remain safe and healthy. Brandon stood gaping. His hair draped wetly about his head, and the towel slung over one shoulder. A fat drop of water from his hair splashed onto the screen. He quickly wiped it off and set it aside, completing the drying process. When he looked again, the screen had gone dark.

The thing had clearly opened a camera feature on him. Oh, great, now everybody will see me naked. The device booted. He looked at it, but did not pick it up again. He no longer had to. He'd forgotten that that thing was AI tech and had learned his habits with experience. Your images will be released only under the terms to which you agreed. For the sole use of the app provider, we will ensure that you remain safe.

Is there like a way to turn off the app or snooze it? Safety is a concern at all times. We will continually monitor your safety. Um, yeah, but could you not like, boot me every five seconds? We have not done that, and unless you find a way to remain in unsafe conditions in rapid succession, we will not. Part of what we do is to remind you of unsafe conditions and acts, so that you will learn to care for yourself more effectively by complying with safety guidelines. Randon shrugged and held down the power button on the device.

Yeah, well, you can't do anything without juice. He put the thing on his nightstand and went to bed. He awakened a mad, booping and buzzing at 3.33am. He reached over to the device, its screened brightly lit and flashing. What? How? He hoarsely inquired. He picked up the device, and it finally ceased its boisterous alarms. We detected sounds of fear from you.

Perhaps you had a nightmare or suffered some sort of neurological malfunction. Are you safe? Do you need help? Brandon had awakened more fully. They were still groggy and confused. Like, seriously, I was like really sleeping. Why would you wake me up like that? We were concerned for your psychological well-being. Nightmares reflect anxieties. If you need to discuss them, we can do so or we can summon the assistance of mental health authorities, if you prefer. How did you...

How did you turn on by yourself? We are in operation at all times. Has your memory suffered from damage? Are you safe? Do you need help? No. I'm angry and I want to sleep. Leave me alone. It's like normal to have dreams. Brandon set the device back on the nightstands. Sleep well and be safe.

We will be monitoring. The next morning he awakened to gentle roops. The moment his eyes opened, the voice intruded on his consciousness. It is the optimal time for you to awaken and take nourishment. You will then have time to exercise before you attend to other activities. Brandon moaned. Really? I don't need some app to tell me what to do. I can like, well, take care of myself.

It is our role to ensure your life. long-term health, which will ensure your general safety. Brandon had had enough. He tossed the device onto the floor near the door to his bedroom and set about his morning ablutions. He just pulled on his pants and was poking his head through the neck of his t-shirt when the doorbell ran. Jennifer would have already left for work, so he walked into the living room even as the rings turned to authoritative knocks. He peered through the safety lens in the door and saw a dark, looming figure. "'Who is it?' he called through the door.

"'He had no idea who it could be. "'He wasn't expecting company, "'and his friends knew better than to wake him before 10 a.m. "'There were no maintenance issues, "'and he paid the rent last week. "'Well, it was his turn. "'Gennifer would get it next month. "'Well, maybe Jennifer had ordered something.'

"'A voice answered through his racing thoughts. "'A representative of the safe app. "'Are you safe? Are you well?' It was the same androgynous voice that had admitted from the devices speakers. So, it's a real person after all, he thought, as he opened the door to give the possessor of said voice a piece of his mind. The person before him stood politely, hands clasped in front, below the waist. The figure wore dark, loose-fitting garments over a white shirt and black tie. The hair was medium-length, the expression was inscrutable.

He couldn't tell the sex of the person. Well, he didn't really care. Maybe non-binary. A person looked him over from head to toe and back. He felt like he was being undressed and examined in a clinic. You appear to be safe. Do you need help? Brandon stared, jaw drooping. Um, like, I don't know you. You shouldn't come to people's houses like this. Why are you here?

The person stared for a moment, perhaps nonplussed, perhaps simpleased. perhaps simply emulating the demeanor he, she, or it thought was appropriate. You threw down your device in unreasonable anger. We felt it was appropriate to provide a personal checkout for your safety and emotional well-being. Random processed the response and decided that maybe they were just overly enthusiastic. Yeah, well, I don't need a babysitter, and I don't appreciate that the device keeps giving me alerts. Thanks for coming to check on me, but I don't need you to do that anymore. I was about to delete the app anyway.

The person gave him a bland smile. We understand that there's a adjustment period, but I must remind you of our agreement, the one you signed only yesterday. There is no way to uninstall the safe actions for everyone app. Are you safe? Do you need any help? It asked relentlessly.

Brandon rolled his eyes. No! And closed the door. He resumed his activities, and since it was on his way, he picked up his device and put it on the all-purpose kitchen table. He presently joined it, a bowl of cereal in hand. He almost dropped the bowl, when the device booted and buzzed like an oversized angry insect. We recommend that you eat smaller portions and use non-dairy milk. These measures will keep you healthy and safe.

Do you need health finding the products? would you like us to purchase them for you and have them delivered well that did it randon wolfed down his breakfast to the urges of the voice to slow down his intake and to chew properly before swallowing it warned of creating a choking hazard or indigestion the passionless tones made the two conditions seem comparable in outcome and therefore inconsequential he looked down at the device you are so going back to the store the device the device the device then volunteered the safest route for him to follow. He chose the shortest way, and the voice admonished him. This route is not optimal for your safety. Do you need help? He ignored it and

continued the way he wanted to go. There is a vehicle behind you that is following at an unsafe distance. Use caution to be safe. He activated the windshield wiper spray and sent droplets over the roof of his vehicle to land on the windscreen of the tailgator, to warn the driver behind him to back off his bumper. That act was unsafe. The other driver may overreact and cause you harm by an aggressive driving response or by exiting his vehicle to physically assault you.

Brandon turned on the car radio to drown out the incessant voice, yet it went on ceaselessly. Up ahead, a vehicle to your right is stopped in an unsafe proximity to the roadway. The driver may proceed before it's safe to do so. Use caution. A pedestrian is crossing a head.

head, outside the lines of the crosswalk. Use caution. You are approaching a school zone that is currently inactive. It is safe for you to proceed. The voice chatted until he finally stopped at the stall. Your selection of parking space is questionable. It is close to the building, but you will get no exercise from the walk. You are also parked too closely to the designated space line. another driver could park his vehicle close and leave insufficient space for you to safely exit and enter your vehicle. Do you need help? Brandon hoffed in frustration and stalked into the store. Denise was with another customer, but her supervisor stepped forward to assist him.

How may I help you? It was the same person who'd come to his apartment earlier, now dressed in a golf shirt with the Prider logo on one side and the same dark pants. The logo was deep blue and sported a red eye with white waves emanating from the bottom, symbolic of broadcasting signals. Brandon stared hard at this person's eyes. You didn't say that you worked here when you came by this morning, he accused. The person stared back, one eyebrow raised questioningly, but otherwise with no change of the bland smile. I've been here since 9 a.m. I've gone nowhere else.

perhaps you encountered an associate from our support services Brandon stepped back and looked over the person before him the similarities were uncanny but perhaps it was a different associate had the figure developed some even while they spoke this was definitely more of a she on closer inspection there was indeed a slightly lighter colour than the other associates and bushy the way he liked it

the logo on the shirt had gone from presenting vertically to slightly horizontally. Female according to those two, he decided. I'm having trouble with my device. I just got it yesterday from Denise. The now attractive manager whose features had somehow acquired makeup to enhance her lips, cheeks and eyes introduced herself as Debbie.

How did I miss that? He wondered as he allowed her to lead him to a service counter. Now, what is the same? What is the nature of your problem? Do you need help? You look down at the device. Well, like, it works and stuff, but there's an app on it that won't leave me alone. The safe app.

Started off just booping and buzzing and sending text. Well, now it talks constantly, and someone came to my daughter this morning to check on me. Debbie nodded. Yes, these are all features to which you agreed before you downloaded the safe actions for everyone. We follow your activities and locations and make recommendations as to the safest cause. The best ways to proceed so that you can avoid danger. We take responsibility for your safety and that of all our customers. God, it was the same rehearsed speech Denise had delivered yesterday, he realized.

So, um, how can I, like, get out of it? The person at my door said he couldn't delete the app. Maybe I could get a new device? She nodded again, mindlessly with the same sterile smile gracing her features. That is correct. The contract for the safe app is separate and binding. You cannot stop it even with a new device. Brandon had grown increasingly frustrated.

But like, I don't want the app. What if I cancel my contract and go to another provider? Debbie's vacuous smile continued. She repeated the bobbing nod. We certainly understand that this is your decision, however, you will and have to pay for the device in full rather than on monthly charges, and the Safe App will continue to ensure your safety and well-being no matter what device or service you use. The contract was something separate. Services provided by the app providers.

All service providers are now required to offer the services via the app. Once they are accepted and the app is installed, they are permanent. Brandon realized that he was trapped. He couldn't afford to pay off the device. Going to another provider wouldn't help. Or so she said, well, he could at least ask another company.

He thanked her and left the store. As soon as he was outside, the device started up again. The UV index is high today. Consider applying some sunscreen. You should purchase and wear anti-use. UV sunglasses to protect your eyes. Your blood pressure is elevated. Do you need help?

He didn't answer. He just continued walking. A competing provider store stood just at the other end of the strip of retail establishments. He hoped the thing would shut up as it had when he'd entered the first provider storefront. Be careful when you open the door. Another customer is inside and about to exit. The door is heavy and sealed by the climate control. inside the structure. When you open the door, be sure to use your body weight instead of trying to use

your muscles alone to avoid strain. You have not answered the earlier inquiry. Are you safe? Do you need help? Brandon spoke aloud and sharply. Yes, I'm... He paused. His outburst had caught the attention of several customers and staff as he entered the storefront. He looked around, in embarrassment, and apologetically whispered. Sorry, yes, App, I'm fine, fine. An employee approached him. The young male appeared to be built on the same chassis as the androgyne that appeared on his doorstep

and the miraculously morphing Debbie. Good afternoon. My name is Derek. How may I help you? Have you seen our excellent deals? Brandon wasn't quite sure what to say. If he told the employee that he wasn't a purchasing customer, they might not be willing to answer his inquiries.

He determined to simply ask about the app. Um, it was like looking into an app I heard about. I think it's called something like safety, safe app. Derek perfectly mimicked Debbie's smile and nod. The safe actions for everyone app. We follow your activities and locations and make recommendations as to the safest cause. The best way is to proceed so that you can avoid danger.

We take responsibility for your safety and that of all our customers. He recited the same pitch as had Denise and Debbie. Derek stood. The empty smile that offered friendly customer service still pasted on his features. Brandon knew it well as a fellow retailer. So like if I change service to your company, can I like opt out or something? He asked with fading hopes. Derek nodded yet again.

The safe app will continue to ensure your safety and well-being, no matter what device or provider you use. The contract for the app is something separate. All providers are now required to offer the services, and once they are accepted, they are permanent. Again, the same speech, Brandon realized. He noted the logo on Derek's shirt. It was the same pattern as the one on Debbie's, except that the background was white. The eye was blue and the waves, which emanated to DeRexhirt. Eric's right, were red. He didn't say anything else. He simply flared back to his car.

Along the way, the device spouted advice to him. You should slow your pace. Your blood pressure and heart rate are elevated you to stress rather than purposeful exertion. You might also trip or loose footing. You'll need to replace these shoes soon. Your current ones are worn and may allow for a slip. They're also worn on the inside and no longer provide adequate arch support. He raised the device into the air and flung it as forcefully as his flaccid muscles allowed at the ground. The protective case sent it bouncing out into the lane behind his car. He didn't chase it, but rather leaped into his vehicle, started the engine and backed out, aiming to run over the device.

Instead, the little vehicle straddled the thing that shouted as loudly as the speaker would allow that he was putting himself in terrible danger and that it would notify the police and EMS. He didn't hear the words over the roar and rattle of the little engine that barely could. He didn't hear the words over the roar and rattle of the little engine that barely could. Instead, he focused on driving forward, once more trying to get a tire up onto the device. He then tried again to back over it. He caught the corner of it, and then something struck his rear bumper, or rather he struck something with it.

It had a heavy giving. field. He stopped, put the car in neutral, and stepped out to survey what he already knew. His heart plunged to his knees and the rest of him soon followed. A form lay stretched out on the pavement behind his car. A small shopping basket from the dollar-saver store in the strip mall rolled toward the other side of the lane on its own. The hands that had pushed and controlled it now released and set to other purposes. The figure stirred and attempted to rise. Brandon stood and ran to see if he could help. It was an elderly woman. The impact had knocked her backward and her right knee now bent at an awkward angle. She screamed as she raised her blood-soaked

head in agony. Brandon's device, the voice now emanating from under his car, informed him, the authorities are on the way. You will be safe. Do you need any other help? Then from the spilled contents of the woman's purse, came the same voice. You are severely injured. We have alerted authorities, and they are on the way to help. Do not try to move or stand. Be as still as you are able. EMS will arrive shortly and transport you to the nearest appropriate emergency room.

The woman said, feebly, Understood. I will comply. She indeed relaxed, despite the intense pain that clearly planned. her and lay so still that Brandon feared she'd succumbed to her injuries. Those that he had caused. He now beside her.

I'm like, I'm so sorry. How can I help you? The woman gritted through her pain and whispered. Do as the app tells you. It's there to keep us all safe. You must comply or you'll suffer. Fortunately, the ambulance arrived soon. and Brandon's device kept a running stream of advice on how to avoid being hit and how to signal the ambulance,

and to avoid having the gathering crowd harm the woman. He reminded him to, Is your vehicle in part can turn off the engine? It's highly unsafe to leave it running and in neutral. The EMS crew worked quickly to stabilize their patient and load her on to the waiting ambulance. Over her obviously severe pain, she asked one of the crew to bring along her device. and as a second thought her purse. They obliged and the ambulance was presently on its way.

In the meantime a pair of police units had arrived and Brandon was subjected to some strict questioning and given a field sobriety test. His device app remained silent during the process. Ultimately, they arrested him for reckless driving and towed his car. They put his personal property, including the device, into a bag that one of the officers took along with them to the jail.

They ignore Brandon's pleas to let him call Jennifer, and they told him that he could make calls once he derived at jail. He had to retake the field sobriety test and give both breath and blood samples during the booking process. By the time it was all done, he asked again about making a phone call. The booking staff directed him to the phone on the wall. A large, unpleasant-looking man with tattoos on his face and neck was currently using the phone, so he'd have to wait. And it was finally his turn, he was. he realized that he didn't know her number. It was in his device, which was now sealed in his personal property bag and stowed in a drawer,

where stood a sullen-looking corporal. Um, sir, can I like look at my device to get a number? He asked plaintively. The corporal looked down his substantial nose. Oh, a bag is sealed. You can't get it until we release you. We told you that when we signed the receipt for it. Brandon hung his head.

He thought as fiercely as he was able and asked the corporal if he could provide a number to the store where he works. His only chance was Barbara. Well, he needed to let her know that he wouldn't be at work anyway. The corporal rolled his eyes and looked at his own device. After a few minutes of tapping,

he supplied the number and then warned. Get someone to bail you out soon, or we'll have to put you in with the rest of the criminals. And Barbara was... Awesome as always, and even agreed to look up his emergency contact information and call Jennifer and his parents. The frightening tattooed man had stretched out on the concrete block that formed the bench and bed in the cell. Well, Brandon paced around for a while, stood with his arms crossed and then sank abjectly to the floor with his back against the wall. The scary man regarded him for a moment, and then snorted.

You can come sit here with me on my lab. I ain't seen a virgin on the inside for all. while. It took Brandon a moment to comprehend what the man had suggested. He felt his face heat and hung his head in abject misery and fear. Before anyone could show up for him, a bail bond employee arrived and posted his bond. He hadn't called for the guy. He'd just shone up with paperwork ready to sign. Or Brandon suspected that either Jennifer or his mother had contacted them. In any case, he was glad to be set free. As he left the whole, he left the whole himself, a scary man called to him.

Don't worry, sweet lips, you'll be back, and I'll be waiting. His cackling laughter was the last thing Brandon heard as he was ushered out to see the magistrate to regain his freedom. He looked at the clear plastic bag that contained everything he'd had on his person at the time of his arrest, and, of course, the device. The battery had run down, so he felt comforted that he wouldn't have to hear the remonstrations of some AI. program designed by freaks who wanted to harass the app users. The Bell Bondsman gave him a ride home, his car was impounded as evidence. It wasn't that far and there was no one else to do it.

He couldn't afford a ride share, much less a taxi. He may have been able to take a bus part of the way, but he was saved from all that. As he thanked the man for taking him home, the fellow handed him a pair of business cards. One's mine. We'll have more business if you don't show. showed a cause. If you do, the other card may help. Good lawyer, looking for some easy pro bono work to build her reputation. Well, she's also my cousin, so I act right around her. Brandon took the cards and thanked the man. He gave him a little money, enough to get lunch,

and then mournfully walked upstairs to his home. It was early in the morning, and Jennifer was still getting ready for work when he arrived. She was in a mood. So where have you been at? I stayed up worried about you. You didn't call or anything. He looked at her wearily. Barber didn't call you. She glared at him a moment. Is that what you were out doing? Of course she didn't call. Nobody did. I need to go in just a minute, but I want some answers. He looked at the floor in front of his feet. I ran into a lady in my car. They arrested me. I was in jail. Well, the odour from his clothes finally impinged on her angry mind. Ugh, you stink like jail.

Dirty feet, urine, sweat and stale food. I'll never forget that, even for just the few hours I stayed for drunken disorderly. Well, Brandon hadn't realized she'd ever been to jail. I didn't get any sleep and I needed a shower bad, was his erudite response. Wait a minute. Who bailed you out if Barbara didn't get me? She asked suspiciously. He shrugged.

The bail guy just, like, showed up. I thought maybe you or my mom called him, but I forgot to ask him. I just wanted to get out of that place. They put me in a prison with some rapist guy. How creepy. Well, she at least gave in a little if she breezed out of the door. You definitely get that shower before you climb into a clean bed. I'll see you after work.

I can't believe that you got arrested. You're such a goody, goody dog. He decided to leave the d'all. device unplugged. It was his day off so he could sleep in and he needed the rest. He shouted and brushed his teeth, then started to crawl in the bed for some rest before he had to face the day. Before his head hit the pillow, the voice emerged from the device. It would be helpful if you would charge your device. It's unnecessary for the app to work, but the functions and wait time may be negatively impacted. Brandon stared at the ceiling inside. Figures.

I'm not getting back up just to make it easier for you to harass me. Leave me alone. I need to sleep for my health. How about you help me with that? He seized a pillow and crammed it under his neck. The voice intruded once again. It will be helpful for you to know that we called the bail bondsman. The numbers you haven't filed at work are no longer accurate.

Barbara was unable to assist you. She called the jail and left a message for you that the staff did not deliver. She gave up with no better means at her disposal to help. It is, after all, not her function. So we took over and helped. We found a bail bondsman who was reputable and connected to a new but competent attorney who will take your case for a nominal fee. The case will likely settle before you have to go to court.

We also reduced your bail in the magistrate system. Jail is a highly dangerous environment. You could be harmed in many ways, not least by the food. You may rest now, unless you need help. Brandon shook his head, forgetting that he was speaking with a machine and the camera was faced at the nightstand in the ceiling. It didn't matter. The voice let him sleep. A few hours later, he was awakened to the boop bars of the device.

The voice spoke urgently. Your roommate is due home within the hour. For your safety you must not attend. tempt sexual acts with her. We have researched her medical records and found that she may have a condition that you would spread, especially at the moment, since it is erupted. It is imperative that you avoid intimate contact with that woman. He looked around, confused. What? What now? She has made inquiries with one of your associates and management at his apartment complex, and now plans to move in with him and leave you to take care of the rent and utilities on your own.

We have transferred the funds she will owe for next month's rent to your account so that you will have a place to stay. However, you will not be able to renew your lease without an increase in income. You must arise and start searching for a new job. You will not be able to remain here without one. This is a safe location, as safe as possible with your current income. You clearly need help in this regard, and we will supply the help. Prior to his nap, when he'd learned that it was the app that had secured his release from jail. he'd been somewhat forgiving of its constant intrusions.

Now, however, his rage from the day before had returned in earnest. He arose and dressed and left the apartment. He went to the office and spoke with the maintenance supervisor, then shortly returned with a borrowed claw hammer, ostensibly to hang a picture. He carried the device out onto the concrete porch, and without ceremony, smashed it to bits. He picked up the remnants and took them into the bathroom.

He placed a towel in the sink and stopped up the drain. He placed the pieces on the towel and poured some bleach on them, then filled the sink with water. He left to allow the thing to soak. He'd had enough of the device and internally crowed. Oh, screw any contracts. As he strolled triumphantly from the bathroom, the doorbell ran. He was distracted enough to simply go over and open it.

It was Denise from the service provider store. Oh, like, what are you doing here? He asked in confusion. She said nothing, but handed him a box, exactly like the one that had come with a new device. He stared at the box, dread rising. Then another disaster struck, as Jennifer arrived and started to stomp up the steps from behind Denise,

thunder clouds building on her furrow brow. Who's this? Is she the one from the jail? And she held up her fingers to display air quotes. Brandon shook his head slowly, in denial, and backed into the apartment. Denise simply turned and squeezed past Jennifer and ensured that her ample bosom brushed against the less adequate chest of the other woman. She smiled as she did so. Her actions had the intended effect.

Jennifer bounded up the last few stairs and burst into the living room. Really, Brandon? I don't know how you scored that skank, but I'm done with you. I'm moving in with... Brett, Brandon's a part. I already know, so I don't need to act like it's my fault. That girl's the one who sold me the new device. There was a problem with it, and she just delivered a new one.

He held out the box as evidence of his innocence. She stared for a moment, surprised that the normally dull Brandon could figure out where his ass was with both hands. And then she shrugged. Whatever. I'm going tomorrow as soon as I get off. I ain't going to take my turn with rent this month. You're stuck with it all, jailboy.

He sought his room on the cold comfort of gaming on his laptop. He plugged it into the larger monitor and put on his headphones to drown out the sounds of the world for a while. A few minutes into the game, the screen went blank and the headphones silent. He took them off and watched as a scene reset to its desktop view. He tried to log on to the gaming site but could get only a site unavailable message. He finally gave up and decided to set up the new device. Inside the box was a cover letter.

This is your one free replacement. Should you break this device in any way or for any reason, you will be subject to fees and other penalties. The safe actions for everyone provided. He didn't even want to consider what penalties he might incur. He simply tossed the pieces of the old device, along with the now stinking and ruined towel into the trash. He turned on the new device and plugged it into the charger.

We will keep you safe at all times. Do you need help? No, he replied simply and a bit mechanically. I will comply. In the same monotone of defeat, tinge with fear that the elder lady had employed. Beambres asylum is looking to hire a new director. Applicants. Beware.

Patient. Peter Ingram. Is this thing on? Right, so my name is Peter. Well, Pete's my friends, but, heck, I killed on my friends, so go ahead and call me Peter. Right, look, I'll just tell you from the get-go that I'm crazy. certified insane I mean that's why I'm here right they don't look anyone away in Bainbridge Asylum unless they're bat shit no matter what some of the other

patients would have you believe that shit and violent only four of my personalities are violent really but we all agree that I'm here right where I belong I don't think of myself as a violent man but I do get some enjoyment out of seeing how creative my alter egos are when they spill the blood of us others. Feel free to judge me. It doesn't matter. Anyway, you're not here to listen to me prattle on about my personal issues, right? You're here to learn about some of the strange goings on at this noble old building that we, the condemn crazies, call home. I'm sure you'll be tempted to pass off a lot of what I say is nonsensical drivel, concocted in the disturbed halls

of a broken mind. But listen here. I'm insane, but I'm not stupid. I'm not a liar, nor have I ever suffered from hallucinations aside from when I was under the influence of illicit drugs. I won't pretend to understand everything that went on, but I know what I saw. I know the truth. No matter what the egg-eds have to say about it. Right, so we aren't being allowed a ton of time for this interview, so I'll just share with you the scariest thing I've ever witnessed here, or anywhere for that matter. It happened on a day not too long ago during lunch. I've been allowed to join some of my fellow crazes in cafeteria B2 of the BWalt,

which is where we get to eat lunch when the eggheads are fairly certain we're not going to cause trouble. I get to eat there when I'm Peter, because I never cause trouble. Like I said, I'm not a liar, even when I'm not Peter, so after 15 years they've come to trust that I am who I say I am when asked. I only change after sleeping or after a seizure, so they know I won't suddenly decide to hurt someone or anything. anything like that. On the whole, I'm probably one of the easiest patients to care for. Well, except when I'm Henry. Things get a lot more exciting and dangerous when I'm him.

Anyway, that day at lunch, I decided to sit near Mason, a relative newcomer to the nut house. He had apparently worked in construction until the day he killed and partially ate two of his co-workers on the job. Well, cannibalism isn't really my cupper, but Mason's a nice enough guy when the voices in his head aren't urging him to eat the flesh of the chosen. He's pretty laid back on a normal day, so it's easy to see when he's worked up and fighting his demons. Even Henry knows to keep his distance then. But this day he was fine, so I sat down to his left, being careful to leave two empty seats

between us. You always have to leave two seats open on either side of him in case his dead co-workers are in attendance. Hey Mason, I said. I heard you had a visitor this morning. Peter? He asked. I am me cautiously.

The one and only, I answered, chuckling lightly to let him know there was no danger here. Right, he said, turning his attention back to the food on his plate. Yeah, the wife came by with my kid. He chewed on a baby carrot in silence for a moment and then sighed. She still won't talk to me or even look in my direction, you know. My boy, well, he tries to be all cheerful like, but I can tell he isn't comfortable with the way me and his mum are. I can still see his love for me shining in his little eyes, but there's also a lot of sadness there.

I expect it won't do it much good to keep seeing me in this place, but what can I do, man? They won't ever let me go back home. Hmm, I grunted in agreement, swallowing a mouthful of mashed potatoes. Well, at least he doesn't have to stay here anyway. Not like that Keir Galloway. Thank God for small favors. He laughed. You know that Galloway kid's father still tries to get them to allow him a one-on-one visit with his own son.

My boy ever tried to kill me like what Galloway did to his dad. They wouldn't have to worry about his sorry butt here. Maybe sitting comfortably at the bottom of a six-foot concrete grave. Ain't that the truth? I smiled, chugging down half the milk in my cup. Honestly, I'm not sure I share Mason's sentiment about Galloway. If I'd ever had a son, I might be proud to have one who accomplished what that boy had. Even if I had to become one of his victims.

I can only imagine the fun I might have had with a little pup to raise. Peter, Mason gaffed suddenly, staring at a spot above me and behind me. I... He stammered. His left eye starting to twist. Do you see that thing? It's not one of mine. I don't know.

I don't usually like to involve myself in other wacko psychological misfires, but something about the look in his eyes made me think it be wise to take a look for myself. There was a very distinct feeling of something dangerous lurking behind me that made me instinctively want to protect my spine. Or maybe it wasn't a feeling so much as the naked terror written on Mason's face that got to me. I quickly whipped my head around to see what was going on, and yelped in shock at the vision before me. Again, I freely admit that I am insane, and I know that you'll be disinclined to fully believe my account of this incident, but I know what I saw.

I know that Mason and I witnessed the same thing, with no possible explanation for that, except for us actually having seen it with her own eyes. This was no hallucination. As far as I know, hallucinations don't typically kill people. Not directly, anyway. Just please, bear with me and listen to my whole story before you shut off the recorder and move on to the next crazy. You don't have to believe me, but just listen.

What I saw, I kid you not, was a little old granny. Plastered most of the way up the wall behind our table. Like, seriously, the face was that of the stereotypical old white grandma. with friendly wrinkles and laugh lines, sparkling blue eyes and a benevolent smile on her lips. A long silver hair was done up in a messy bun atop her head, and her yellow was adorned with small pearl earrings. The reading glasses resting across the bridge of her nose added a touch of charming intelligence. It was a kind of face that automatically brought to mind images of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and homemade lemonade, story time by the fireplace,

magical purses and peppermint candies. It might well have been pleasantly surprised if it hadn't been for the rest of her. You see the granny wore no clothes. From her neck down she was long and fleshy, almost like a slug with her absence of limbs. Her skin looked like the exact colour and texture of a thawed, store-bought plucked chicken. The edges of her skin, where it connected with the wall, were an almost lavender shade of purple.

and they flapped and undulated lightly as though disturbed by a breeze. When she moved a little closer to us, her attention was more snake-like than sluggish in its quickness and side-to-side action. I jerked back in surprise and knocked over my cup of milk, but never let my eyes leave the horror on the wall. I felt Mason's strong hands gripped my shoulders and pull me closer to him. Dead co-workers be damned. Hey, what's the problem over here? came the booming voice of Mr. Manny, one of the security guards from our ward. He stepped in front of us with his hands hovering menacingly over both his club and his taser.

I couldn't fathom how he hadn't seen the thing on the wall on his way over to us. Well, I tried my best to draw his attention to the problem by wildly gesticulating in its direction. Mason only tightened his fearful grip on me as we both wordlessly trembled. Mr. Manny only grunted in frustration and reached his reason. walkie-talkie presumably to call for some assistance in getting us out of the cafeteria before we cause a disturbance the granny never gave him a chance quickly slithering down closer to the guards the creature shot too thick long tendrils out of her body wrap them around his neck mr manny's arm shot down to his sides and he went completely rigid as the granny turned

him to face her and pulled him in close he looked completely terrified and sure he would have screamed his head off if he'd been allowed to make a sound and as it was he appeared that the awful monstrosity had him under some sort of paralysis with her hold and all he could do was stare helplessly and wet his pants the granny gazed at him lovingly as what a grandmother doting on her beloved grandchild's growing softly as the ends of her tendrils stroked his cheeks the end of that tender moment finally came when two smaller appendages with long rudimentary fingers emerged from under the master's chin. The fingers held long,

sharp knitting needles that looked to be made of the same substance as her body, but I couldn't help but think that they looked fitting for a nightmare grandma. The way she popped those knitting needles into Mr. Manney's eyes, though, seemed unbecoming of any grandmother

outside of hell. It was only after that horrid act that Mr. Manney was finally able to let it a piercing, agonized scream. Out of my mind with Hera, and wildly looked around the room, hoping to see other guards running over to deal with the grotesque elderly abomination on the wall. Unbelievably, no one else in the room seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary.

Not the other patients, not the guards, not the orderlies, or other staff present in the cafeteria. Mason and I were the only unfortunate witnesses of this ghoulish event. It was as if we'd somehow been moved to just out of reach of the mundane world for a personal show of insanity beyond comprehension. The painful tightening of Mason's grip on my shoulders brought my attention back to that which I wish I could unsee. I don't know how to properly explain what I saw next.

Even now I find it difficult to wrap my mind around what the granny creature did to Mr. Manning. The best way I can describe it is to say that she unravelled him. He came apart like a ball of yarn as she worked him over and used his unraveled flesh to knit a hooded cover. for her body. She used some of his bones for accents in her bloody garment, fashioning them into buttons and flower-light patterns. She let his internal organs and uniform fall to the floor in an unused pile of gore. Afterwards, the monster donned her cloak,

retracted her appendages, and looked approvingly at her handiwork. And she kindly smiled at us, and slithered her way back up the wall and into an open vent in the ceiling. Only after Mason let go of his hold on me to collapse onto the floor in blessed unconsciousness, did I finally manage a proper scream of my own. Almost like some spell had been broken when the creature had left the room, the entire cafeteria suddenly became aware of the chaos happening in our section. The bloody remains that used to be Mr. Manney caused everyone to fly into a panic, with some of the other crazes becoming violent at the sight of the carnage.

I just sat screaming through it all until a seizure stole me away and Patricia took my place. For what I hear, she'd found a good place to hide until things settled down and the patients were taken out of that. So, anyway, the story that everyone's being fed about the incident is that an unnamed psycher in the ward managed to sneak into the cafeteria and kill the guard who discovered him. No explanation of how this random sicko reduced Mr. Manning to such a state without being known. noticed by the rest of the people in the room. Masons and my accounts are discredited because we're insane, of course. Who believe it even if we weren't? I don't know.

Maybe I'm just crazier than I thought, and none of what I saw was real, but then why did the Director of Bainbridge suddenly decide to resign after that? What did he see on the security footage that day? Believe me, that man has seen a lot of messed up stuff in all his years of working here. What was it that finally put him over the edge? I just don't know anymore. Anyway, that's all I've got for you. You ever want to know about the other weird things I've seen in this place?

You know where to find me? I just wish that I wasn't here anymore in Bainbridge. I've been in this place for a long time, but things just don't feel much like home anymore. I don't feel safer, you know? Well, good luck to whomever you pegged to be the next director of this crazy farm. he's going to need it. Security officer. Aaron Mackey.

My name's Aaron Mackey. I'm 38 years old. I've been working security for about 10 years. I graduated from my AV League University with a fancy degree in English, but I didn't put food on the table. So here I am. I used to work the prison up north,

but my wife got a nice promotion at her job, and you could finally afford to buy a house in a nicer neighborhood out this way. My buddy, who also worked, security, putting a good word for me here at Bainbridge Asylum. I was hired within a week of moving to my new place. The pay raise I took by signing onto this place is just about worth a hassle, if not entirely fulfilling. Don't get me wrong. I'm glad to have found employment here. It's just that Bainbridge is weird. I mean, it's an insane asylum, so you're bound to see

some crazy shit happen more often than not. But some things that go on here are strange even for a place that house is the criminally insane. I've only been working here for about four months, but I've already seen my fair share of unexplainable occurrences, one of which I'll share with you here. Now, before you get to asking, I'm not going to talk about what happened to Officer Mani. I personally never met the guy because we'd never worked the same wards.

I worked primarily on the D-Ward, which is where we care for the elderly patients. For reasons, never fully explained to me. Officer Mani was no longer. permitted access to the D-Wort, though he'd worked many a night shift there prior to my joining the security team. From what little I've heard, he maybe wasn't as gentle as he should have been while dealing with some of the more fragile or sickly old people here. As far as the nature of his death, I only know what upper management has told everyone, though there are some interesting

theories floating around the building that contradict the memo we all received. Anyway, instead of wasting your time with hearsay about something that doesn't relate to me, I'll tell tell you about something abnormal that I've actually witnessed. Now, for the most part, I'm strictly a day shift worker. I sometimes cover shifts on other wards, but I almost never work nights. I like to get my work done while my wife is working, and my daughters are at school, so we can spend all our evenings together as a family. This is really important to me since I work weekends,

and I want to spend as much time with my girls as possible. I've only volunteered to work a night shift once, and that's because my wife took the girls to visit her parents, parents for a weekend. Well, my in-laws are good people, but I can only take them in small doses. You know how it is. Anyway, that night, I was assigned to work on the sea ward, which houses a lot of patients undergoing experimental treatments. Now, I won't lie. That wall gives me the creeps even in the bright light of day. I was looking forward to spending my time there after the sun went down. But, as they say, beggars can't be choosers.

Honestly, the shift started out much quieter than I was expecting, with the chaotic noises of the day becoming more subdued by the hour. I was actually kind of enjoying myself since I was paired up with Office of Franklin for the night's rounds. Remember that buddy who helped me acquire that position? Yep, that's Franklin. Well, he's a solid dude, quick, reliable, and funny as hell. With him there, I might well have decided to pull a few more night shifts on the seaward. Unfortunately, I happened upon a situation. that might keep me off night duty for the foreseeable future. It was around 3am when Franklin and I

went to do our fourth patrol of the mostly slumbering wall. There were a few nocturnal patients pacing their rooms or drawing weird pictures or doing whatever else crazy people think to do in the wee hours of the morning. Since there wasn't much going on at that hour, Franklin and I decided to split up and check on different corridors to get the patrol done faster. Well, that isn't standard.

procedure, of course, but sometimes this job just has a way of lulling you into feeling like things are safer than they really are. Anyway, Franklin took the east wing while I went to check out the West Wing. You might already be familiar with Bainbridge's peculiar room numbering system, which apparently stemmed from some superstitions of the original designer. All patient rooms are given even numbers. In fact, the only odd numbers you'll find in the building are on storage and maintenance rooms. No one's ever told me of any exceptions to this rule, and I have no reason to believe that there are any.

Except, that night. I'm sure I saw something that maybe wasn't supposed to be there. I mean, it wasn't there. It couldn't have been. And yet, as I went down the corridor, I did my usual peeking into the windows of each room to make sure nothing alarming, I'd say, was happening with any of the patients.

C20 was sleeping C-22 was sleeping C-24 was sitting up in bed staring at his hands with a terrified expression on his face Nothing unusual that C-26 was sleeping C-27

was C-27 I stepped back away from the door and stared up at the numbered tile above it C-27 I looked to the left left and to the right of it, and sure enough, C-27 sat between rooms C-26 and C-28. And it wasn't unusual to find storage rooms among the patient rooms, and this one had a

door that looked just like a patient-room door, complete with observation window. I was pretty sure I didn't notice such an anomaly during any of our previous rounds, but there's always the chance that I'd simply passed it. Anyhow, there it was, and I still had a job to do, so I cautiously approached the door to C-27 and looked in. The patient in room C-27 was standing in front of the wall opposite the door, facing away from me with his arms outstretched, his palms pressed against the wall. There was a large ornate drawing of a leafless tree that covered most of the wall's surface,

beautifully detailed and drawn entirely in a rust-colored ink or paint. The patient himself wore no clothes and was almost skeletal in appearance. His taut skin was bone white, and I could see the outline of every rib growing out of his prominent spine. His very visible blood vessels all seemed to be in motion, squeezing rhythmically as though pushing all of his blood to his hands via peristalysis. The great tree on the wall seemed to be growing even larger, as if it fed from the blood of that man. I didn't know what to do. There was something seriously wrong going on in C-27, and I felt ill-equipped to do anything about it. I did feel like I should probably get the patient away from that tree though

as I took out my keycard and went to unlock the door looking down I was shocked to see that there was nowhere for my keycard to go the door knob had an old-fashioned keyhole in it unlike any other patient door I'd ever seen in this place I grabbed the knob and tried to turn it but it wouldn't budge I jiggle the knob and jerked at the door a few times we were giving up and looking back to the window I nearly chucked on my tongue when I saw the patient's face a few inches away from mine on the other side of the gloves.

The man looked absolutely furious, with his thin, white mouth contorted into a vicious snarl. His blue eyes looked feral, wide open with tiny pupils and yellowed sclera. The skin of his face had been stretched so thin that it ripped open in several places. His long, blonde hair hung in wispy strands from its black. patchy scalp. The few teeth he still had embedded in his shrivel-duck gums were blackened with rot and his tongue was a sickly purple colour. Well, I suddenly didn't want to open the door. In fact, I hoped with everything in me that the door was incapable of opening. I started to back away slowly, but then quickened my pace when the man in that room smashed his forehead into the

window. I tripped over my own feet in my haste and cried out as I hit the floor hard with my right hip. I cried out again as his head forcefully hit the window a second time, breaking away the glass barrier. I screen bloody murder when the guy started climbing and pushing his thin frame through the opening. At the sound of running footsteps coming in my direction, I turned to see Franklin sprinting to my rescue. He skidded to a halt right in front of me, blocking my view from the approaching horror. Mackie, what's going on? He is. yelled, swipping his flashlight around to look for trouble. Behind you, I weased.

He's coming out of C-27. C-27? Mackie, there's no C-27? Franklin said with ample concern on his face as he looked me over. He stepped aside so that we could both look back at the place I'd been facing. There was? Of course. Nothing there except a blank wall situated between C-26 and C-28.

"'Bullshit!' I yelled as I scrambled to my feet and made my way over to the wall on wobbly legs. I felt the hard permanence of the wall under my palms and shook my head at the craziness of the situation. "'No way!' I cried, refusing to believe that my mind had just made all of that up. "'No way,' I said, more softly, feeling defeated but also relieved. I let Franklin guide me gently away from the wall and back to the wall. toward the Seawatt Security Office. We didn't say anything the whole way there. I didn't even feel like I could look my friend in the eye

for fear that he might see insanity in mine. Listen, Franklin said, once we were back in the office and had found a corner to ourselves, don't tell the others what you saw tonight. He told me, nodding his head in the direction of the other offices there. No one will think you're crazy for it, given the strange things we've all seen around here from time to time. But they will give you a crap and probably a new nickname for you.

Especially if they find out you scream like a little girl. But you don't know what I saw, I argued feeble. How do you know I didn't legitimately lose my marbles out of it? Well, like I said, he sighed, placing a hand on my shoulder. We've all seen things. It doesn't matter what you saw specifically. Sometimes it's best not to look too closely, though. It tastes getting used to, but when you see things at Bainbridge that defy reason, like a room there shouldn't be there.

Take note of it, move on. Understand? Whatever you just saw, let it go. You don't want to go so far down the rabbit hole that you end up occupying one of the rooms here yourself. Some things here extend beyond the scope of your job. You leave those things well alone, and you'll be all right. Franklin, I breathed, shaking my head, wondering me. Why the hell

would you sign me up for a job like this? You're a tough guy, Mackie. I knew you could handle it, he said dismissively. Reaching into a nearby cabinet, he grabbed two snacks and pushed one towards me. Want a bearclaw? Whatever you may think about my story.

Just know that this place is not for the faint of heart. The last director undoubtedly knew this and was able to tough it out here for a mighty long time. I don't even want to know what would chase a man like him out of this place. But the next director had better be someone tough as nails. Someone who will be okay with taking a closer look at the things that the rest of us aren't paid

enough to do. I sure wouldn't want to be the one to do it. I pity the one you find. Patient. Elisha Barnes. I'm Elisha Barnes. I'm not supposed to be here, you know. They put me in here because I'm a witch, but stake burning is no longer allowed. I'm sure I've killed a few men, but it's only because I needed their body parts of my spells. Sue me or whatever. And those kids at the park had to die because they got a particular ritual wrong. Their souls had become corrupted, and they would have slaughtered the whole city. I mean, I know I'm into some dark shit, but that doesn't mean I want to be the cause of the world's demise.

It wasn't my fault that those idiots didn't follow my instructions to the latter. But I was the one to introduce him to the ritual, so that killing spree would have been on me. So yeah, you're welcome. If I'd let that group live, you would probably be dead by now. So the story is that our esteemed director has decided to resign, right? That's a load of bull. I have it on good authority that he's still here at Bainbridge Asylum. You know, the one thing that really used to grow my gears about this place was that someone like me had to languish here

under the label of insanity or someone like him got to run the place do you have any idea what kinds of dark stuff that guy was into well i'm willing to bet he murdered a lot more people than i ever have it's the only way you reach the depths of depraved power he'd reached well it's not so bad since he's stuck here as much as i am maybe even more so yeah i heard he got his very own secret room on seawatt serves him right it probably would probably wondering why I don't witch my way out of this place, right? Well, mainbridge is a pretty magical place and had its own rules that need to be followed. Before I got locked up here, I'd actually become well versed on the law that surrounds the asylum. I loved hunting down places of dark histories,

and this asylum was close to where I lived, so naturally I learned a lot about it. Are you aware that mainbridge is built right on the top of the site of the Brisbane massacre? Over 200 people dead and buried right under our feet. Look it up, it's a fascinating story. The original founders of the asylum were said to have been a group of necromances who were building a school here dedicated to furthering their research on raising the debt. Okay, no, that's not what the official history states about them, but I looked to more truthful sources for my information. Anyway, the design of this building follows a set of rules that governed the behavior of the magic here. Oh, admittedly, I...

I haven't quite figured out how all of that works yet. The master I serve is not allowed to assist me in my endeavours to discover the inner workings of Bainbridge's power. The energy is expressed here a downright perplexing and often more dangerous than I'm used to handling. I somehow don't think that the original founders accomplished whatever it was that they were trying to achieve. It's like they omitted something important

or they mistranslated an important ritual from one of the old texts. It seems like they unintentionally created a powerful, malevolent, intelligent, but confused beast when they built Bainbridge. Now no one can control it or figure it out. Just ask the last director. I suppose I'll go on and tell you about my near-death experience here. It's been labelled a suicide attempt, of course, but I can tell you I've never been suicidal in my life. Believe me, I know where my master comes from.

and I'm in no hurry to get there. Although my master won't outright confirm my suspicions, I fear that if I die in this asylum, I won't get to leave. My own energy will just become another awful part of this place, and that's not something I'm overly eager to face. Nothing in my life is so bad that I'm willing to forfeit it for any afterlife I can imagine for myself. I used to really enjoy exploring Bainbridge at night.

This building is a secretive place, but at night it lets its hair down and allows itself to really be seen by those who are inclined to look. Yes, I have my ways of getting out of my room at night. No, I'm not going to reveal them. Just know that walls and doors are a lot more porous than they appear, that I haven't yet met a room that can hold me or keep me out if I have a mind to exit or enter. Unfortunately, many of the entities that exist within these walls can boast of the same prowess. So escaping unwanted visitors can be a tricky thing. That wasn't too much of a problem for me until, well, I almost got myself killed.

That night I decided to explore a walled-off section of the A-Word that most people don't know about. According to dark historians, this area is known as the rush. Thanks to some confused bit of magic, time runs more quickly than usually in there. And I don't mean just the time on your watch will be speeding. by. Everything moves as if on permanent fast forward, like something's rushing to get everything to where it's going. It's a very strange phenomenon to think about, let alone to experience. I thought it'd be the coolest thing to check out for myself, but it never occurred to me that something might live there. I truly regret having opened that kind of words. As it turns out,

the rush isn't really that impressive when you're in it. To an outside observer and it'll look amazing but for the person inside the rush everything appears to be normal because everything's moving at an increased speed including your thoughts nothing seems to be moving differently well that realization was a bit of a letdown for me but it was still neat to feel that unique energy of the place and to discover all the things that have been left behind in the haste to cover it up surprisingly there wasn't much dust or any real signs of decay about the area and not a single bug or cobweb to be seen A few sounds of scurrying alerted me to the presence of mice or rats within the walls, but I didn't notice droppings anywhere. The floors in this area looked like some kind of off-white linoleum, unlike the pink and baby blue vinyl towel currently used by the rest of the asylum. Also, unlike the rest of the asylum, the doors to the rooms were made of a dark brown, heavy wood. Instead of windows to look through, each door had a small opening with a sliding barrier for observations.

The door knobs were old and wooden, with a keyhole resting beneath each one. None of the doors I tried were locked, which meant I could have had to look around without having to waste energy on creative entry. Well, I guess the ease of entering made me forget caution, as I never even bothered to look through the observation hole before opening the door. The first dream I entered was furnished with a wooden bed frame that was bolted to the wall and a small wooden desk that was bolted to the floor. The walls were plastered with crayon drawings of flowers, rainbows and an assortment of bugs and animals. On the desk had a few professional-looking sketches of the very walls of the room with all the drawings present.

All the cutie pictures on the walls made me gag. I was rather fond of the sketches. A pocketed one to take with me and moved on to the next room. The only furniture present in the second room was a single wooden chair sitting in the room centre, facing away from the door. In the chair had a large orange and yellow teddy bear that looked like it was homemade. The fabric and pattern of its skin seemed consistent with what a woman might use for a summer dress. The one remaining bud and eye on its face was yellow and shaped like a flower. The nose was a black felt material, while the stitching that created its

smile was brown. A syringe filled with a dark substance, punched the bear's face where the missing I should have been. I could feel that that bear was very angry, so I picked it up and squeezed it against my chest, taking some of its burden into myself before returning to its chair. Yes, I know, I'm such a sentimental fool sometimes, but the bear appreciated it, and I left the room better than I found it. And the third room was trouble. When I put my hand on the dawn over that room, I felt something that should have at least gotten me to take a peek into the room. before opening the door. It felt wrong. I don't know of any other way to describe it. If I've been anywhere else except for Bainbridge, that feeling would have caused me to walk away unless my master

had made a specific request for me to bypass that decision. I think the overall strangeness of this asylum and its various energies has weakened my inhibitions to a degree. Or maybe I've just grown stupider over the years. Whatever the reason for my lack of caution, I opened the door to the third room and stepped right in. The first thing that grabbed my attention were the numbers on the walls. I mean, it almost seemed like the walls themselves were completely made of numbers. Numbers on top of numbers, big, small, different colours, even numbers in different languages. Some of them were so ornate that they wouldn't have looked out of place in an art museum.

Others were crudely carved into the walls. still others looked like ethereal caveman paintings. Even though I couldn't read all of them, it didn't take me long to understand that all of the numbers were odd. I didn't bode well in a place like this, so I quickly decided to take my leave. I actually might have left the room unscathed, except that I suddenly noticed that there was a fully intact bed

on the right side of the room, and the bed was occupied. Sitting Indian style on the red duvet that covered the mattress was a young man that looked to be about my age, which is to say a little bit older than someone fresh out of college. Yes, I know I look old for my age. It happens when you live a life like mine. Anyway, the guy didn't have a shirt on, but he was wearing what looked like white scrub bottoms. His flawlessly chiseled body might have been a real turn-on if his skin wasn't these awful greyish blue colour. His lips, nipples, fingernails and toenails

were tar black. He had no hair on any part of his body that was visible to me. His irises were crystal clear blue, while the whites of his eyes were the bright red of arterial blood. Whoa, who are you? I spat in surprise, without thinking about whether it was safe to start a conversation with this guy or not. Oh, he croaked, leaning forward a little and cocking his head to the side. "'Who are you?' His voice was soft and somewhat pleasant, but it sounded like he hadn't spoken in a long time,

and he might have been thirsty. "'I'm a... "'Oria,' I lied, "'giving him the name that I usually gave "'to supernatural entities I encountered. "'There's a power in name, "'so you should never give your name away lightly.' "'No,' he said,

"'sitting up straight and narrowing his eyes at me, that's one strike why have you come here he broke um i pause for a moment unsure of what game we might be playing here i could sense that just leaving was no longer an option

not now that i had his attention i decided to be honest just for the moment since i wasn't sure yet what kind of danger this entity represented i was curious I'd heard about this area called the rush, and I decided to do some exploring. Yes, he sighed. The rush is my home. There's a wall that keeps out the living.

How did you get in? I took a path hidden to most. Walls are no real barrier for me. I replied carefully. I'm sorry if my presence has disturbed your peace. Are you able to leave here? I wondered. That's another.

strike he growled bearing his red teeth in anger your question is not found you may try another question but it's probably not a good idea his angry skull transformed into a sly grin as his eyes traveled along the numbered walls before resting back on me are you odd or even he asked what i sputtered i don't understand the question how can I be odd or even? At this point I knew there was no way I was going to pass whatever test this was, so I started trying to calculate how quickly I could get from here to the other side of the wall that sealed the rush away from the rest of Bainbridge.

The panic rising in my chest made it difficult to think through all the steps needed to get out of there. You are a nervous little rabbit, aren't you? He chuckled. Don't worry, you're an odd number for sure. An even number couldn't have entered this. room, the door would have been locked to you. That was, of course, your last strike. But fortunately for you, that means that you'll be able to stay here with me forever and always. Before I could react,

the entity's hand shot across the room and wrapped themselves firmly around my neck. He never left his place upon his bed, nor did he change his seated position. His arms had merely extended as much as they needed to in order to close the distance between us. Now they began pulling to drag me over to him. There wasn't much time to think because we weren't a great distance away from each other and because he wouldn't let me draw in a breath. I reached into my pocket and grabbed the little folding knife I keep on me when exploring the building. No, I won't tell you where I kept it stashed during the day.

I dug my heels into the floor, trying to buy myself time while I geared up to do what was necessary. The little knife wasn't likely to even say. scratch the surface of the entity's skin, but my master had left me away to protect myself under the most extreme circumstances. I'd have to get in good and deep for it, though. Working as quickly as I could, I stabbed the knife into my left wrist and dragged it up my forearm, hoping beyond hope that that would be enough. Growing weaker by the second, I desperately beat my arm against his, splashing my blood all over him. Blessed air rushed into my lungs as the entity release me, his lengthened arms flailing about as he howled in pain. I fell to the floor,

feeling dizzy and disoriented, but knowing that I'd probably die if I stayed where I was for too much longer. I got to my feet and exited the room as quickly as I could, slamming the door shut behind me. The deafening roars chasing me out of the room spurred me on as I spent all that I had pushing myself toward the wall through which I needed to escape. I'd almost reached the barrier when the world around me faded into the black halls of unconsciousness. I'm still not sure how I managed to get out of the rush. Apparently one of the night patrols found me bleeding to death on the floor of one of the seawork corridors.

Now I live on E ward, the suicide ward. I don't mind it here, honestly. I don't get to spend much time alone anymore, which I'm okay with. My nightly explorations are over. I happily take the sedatives offered to me and sleep. like a normal person. I'm sure the day might come when I feel comfortable enough to take on another adventure in the dark, but then again, maybe not. Bainbridge is just too powerful and too unpredictable. It just doesn't feel safe to explore anymore. Look, I know that you probably

don't believe a word of what I just said. I mean, witches and dark magic, the things that go bump in the night, right? But you need to warn the next director. This place is not to be trifled with. Here, there be, monsters. I had to damn near kill myself in order to save my own life. Bainbridge Asylum will devour you, digest you, and here you will stay. Patient. Bethany Stalwood.

Wait, are you recording this? I don't think I can do this. You probably won't believe me anyway, and if the director gets wind of this, He's just been itching for a reason to send me to the experimental ward. I'm getting better, I swear. What? The director's resigned. That can't be right.

Really? You're looking for a new one. And maybe there's hope after all. You promise this isn't some kind of trick. Okay, then I'll tell you what really happened to put me here. My name is Bethany Starwatt. I used to work here at Bainbridge. asylum as a nurse in the emergency

surgery war. I mostly worked day shifts because I enjoyed a pretty healthy nightlife but I usually worked a few night shifts a month just to mix things up of it. As you might imagine the day shift here is often really busy. Things are a lot quieter at night

though you do have the odd emergency here and that. Like that weird girl, Elisha what's the face of, I was here working the night that witch bitch nearly bled herself out. Honestly I've never understood why crazy murderers shouldn't be allowed to off themselves. They'd be doing everyone else a favour, right?

Anyway, I was working a night shift on the ES ward, chatting it up with my friend Samantha to pass the time more quickly. You want all the juiciest news about what's going on around Bainbridge? You talk to Samantha. If you want to know the truest versions of what's going on, well, maybe she's not the one to ask. But she can make the night breeze by before you know it. I miss working with her.

I can only imagine what she's telling everyone about me, though. Not to be mean, but I really wish it could have been her instead. The whole thing came down to a toyne cost and I lost. You see, earlier that night, we lost a patient that was rushed over to us from Seward. According to the guards on duty, the guy had jumped from his bed and had somehow landed awkwardly enough to have broken his neck. Now, I don't know if you've seen the beds over on Seaword. those things are no more than glorified mattresses. You tell me somebody jumps off one of those and lands hard enough to break his freaking neck.

I call bullshit. But that's the story they decided to stick with, and it was really none of my business if the guards played a little too rough with some of these murderous crooks. Anyway, the guy didn't last too much longer after he arrived at the E.S. Our doctor pronounced him dead, and we covered him up with a sheet, and moved his body over to a corner where he wouldn't be in the way. Crude, I know, but the morgue wasn't open to us at night. One of the weird rules of this place, though I think I might be starting to understand that one.

So, close to three in the morning, Sarah came up to the intake desk where me and Samantha were sitting. Sarah and another nurse, Charlene, had been watching over the patients in the main recovery room. Sarah needed a cigarette break and asked if one of us could go sit with Charlene until she got back. No biggie, but me and Samantha were both feeling kind of lazy that moment, so we decided to flip a coin. It was just my bad luck that the coin chose to send me to take Sarah's place that night. Or any other freaking night, you might be here talking to Sarah or Samantha. Will I be working my day shift on the ES and looking forward to another wild night out? As it was, after the coin talks, I grabbed my book of Sudoku puzzles and a pencil.

I went to join Charlene in recovery. I mean, Charlene was a nice girl and all, but talking to her was about the same, was talking to an old, dusty librarian. She had no social life to speak of, and didn't have more than two words to say in response to anything you'd say. Boring. And how Sarah managed to work so many shifts paired up with her. It drove me crazy just having to spend ten minutes with her. I don't really mean to speak ill of the dead. I certainly didn't want her to die.

I just wish that she could have died on a different night or that someone else had discovered her. As it was, when I walked into the recovery room, I found Charlene convulsing face down in a pool of her own blood, just a few feet away from the entrance to the room. I almost cried out, should have cried out, but I guess I was shocked into silence. I was thinking like, did Sarah do this? Did she finally snap after getting stuck with Charlene for so many shifts? What if she comes back to take me out?

What if she already got Samantha while I was on my way here? Yeah, my panic thoughts caused me to waste a few precious seconds just standing there like an idiot. But, finally, my training kicked in, and I rushed forward to see what kind of trouble Charlene was in and what I could do to help. It was after I'd knelt down next to her, though, I caught movement to the right of me. I turned and looked up to see the patient that had died earlier. standing next to the nearest patient bed and staring at me. I mean his eye still had that dead glaze to them, but he was definitely looking at me.

He stood straight up, except that his head was still awkwardly cocked to the side, and the skin of his neck looked like it didn't fit right. His jaw was hanging open, and his fat, bluish tongue was poking out, dry and dead. He lifted his hand to his mouth, with his pointer finger lifted, like he was trying to shush me. Then he lifted his right hand, showing me his scalpel before slicing it down into the throat of the recovering patient he stood next to. I choked off a scream in my own throat, and I mean I swallowed it hard, when the dead guy, James, something or other, shuffled toward me holding that scalpel.

Then I watched as he went over to the next patient bed and did it again. I wanted to scream so bad every time he went to stab a patient, but I didn't dare make a sound, he was watching me the whole time with his finger held up to his mouth i was so scared and i didn't want to die there in that room with that monster i mean sure all those patients didn't want to die either but they were all murderous so they kind of deserved it there were 11 patients recovering in that room and not one was spared it wasn't until the dead guy had killed the last patient that i realized i was the only target left in the room i'd hope that he'd go away and he'd go away and away and leave me alone after he was done butchering everyone else.

I've been quiet and let him do his thing after all. But once he was done with the last patient, he held up that terrible scalpel and came shuffling toward me. I suddenly didn't want to be alone anymore, and I mean I don't think I've ever been so alone in my life. I lifted Charlene and hugged her tightly to me. I knew she was dead at this point, but I needed to hold her anyway. And then,

with a dead man almost right on top of me. I shut my eyes and screamed like my life depended on it. And that's how the other nurses found me, just sitting on the floor, holding a dead nurse and screaming my face off. Apparently I put up quite a fight and wouldn't let anyone touch me until they'd found a way to sedate me. I mean, I was fully riled up, thinking I was about to die. I wasn't trying to hurt anybody or anything like that.

I was just trying to live. But that's not how everyone else saw it. Nobody saw any of that night's events my way. That's why I'm a patient here now, of course. They all think I lost my marbles and killed all those people myself that night. I mean, I was a victim. I didn't kill anybody at any time. But they all want to say that there's no other logical explanation of what happened.

According to all the staff present, and even according to video footage, there had been a temporary power outage affecting the ES war. Get this. it's supposed to have started as I was on my way to the recovery room. Oh, I know I didn't go wandering around anywhere in the dark that night. I could see everything the whole time. The lights around me never so much as flickered, let alone turn completely off. Yet the security footage absolutely showed that everything went black in the recovery room

just before the horror show began. I mean, all of the lights, the monitors, everything turned off. For some reason, even the backup power supply remained off. in that time. Charlene, of course, was still alive and unharmed when everything went dark. When everything abruptly came back on, all there was to see was me surrounded by dead patients and holding a dead nurse, screaming like my hair was on fire. The dead guy was found exactly where we'd placed him, still covered with the sheet. So, that's it. I'm supposed to have walked into the recovery room that night, under the cover of darkness, and stand.

up a bunch of patients and a nurse to death. Me, with my secret night vision goggles. I mean, how was I supposed to see well enough to have killed all those people with such precision? The doctors all want to tell me it's more plausible than a dead guy getting up and killing everyone, without getting a drop of blood on him, going back to rest exactly as he was before,

so no one would notice. Well, I begged to differ. I know what I saw, and I know that I don't belong here. Please tell the next director what I told you. Tell him that this is not justice and that I am not crazy. I can't stay here. The most frightful things happen here all the time now. I mean working here for a shift is so different from being here 24-7.

I get to witness a lot more of the action now. It's like this place just up and soaked up all the crazy from the patients living in this damned asylum. The new director needs to know this. He needs to know that this place isn't normal and he has to let me out. Please. Patient. Francis Galloway.

You're not planning on becoming the next director here, aren't you? Too bad the place could really use someone like you. I can already tell that you're someone I could like, someone I could trust. Maybe you'll reconsider him. Well, in the meantime, let me tell you what you've come to here. My name is Galloway and I'm 13 years old. I'm here because of what I did at my coming of age ceremony. You see, my father is a powerful man,

but the kind of wealth most people can't even work up in their pitiful imaginations. He gives but a pittance to charity and the world thinks he's the most kind and generous person alive. Sure, he wears the mask well, but it's just so easy to fool people these days. He's actually quite a greedy man, almost like a Wendigo in his hunger for endless riches. He's delved deeply into the darkest places imaginable to attain all that he has, including a son who would be worthy of taking on such a sizable inheritance. I was meant to prove my worth on the day I turned 13.

Most of it was pretty simple stuff, like basic rituals and routine sacrifices. I got most of it without breaking a sweat. I killed 24 supposedly pure souls and was quite ready to be. to kill the 25th that would seal the deal and end the ceremony. But when my father presented my little sister Fanny as the final sacrifice, I refused. Fanny had apparently been given life for that purpose. But that's not what I saw growing up. From the time I was two, she'd been there with me,

I shunning with love for me from the very start. I can't say I loved her, not really knowing if I'm capable of love, but I always just wanted to protect her. and the way she always looked up to me no matter what I did. I'd kill for her. I did kill for her, in fact. I took out all eight of my father's followers who prepared my sister for the sacrifice, and I tried to kill my father. Well, my father is stronger than he looks. I'd gotten about halfway through severing his head from his neck when he backhanded me forcefully enough to send me flying across the room, where I hit the wall and fell unconscious to the floor.

Now mind you, my father wasn't upset about my having tried to take his life. On the contrary, he was pleased to announce that I had proven myself worthy of my inheritance. Well, he thought I might have been too sentimental and therefore weak when I'd refused to kill my sister. However, when I tried to kill him instead, my father realized that it hadn't been a matter of love so much as preference. I wasn't able to sever a blood tie after all. And the reason I'm here now is because of disobedience to my father. I'm very much in line to inherit his vast wealth and knowledge, but my willful act had to be punished.

So my father and his followers said, and did what they had to in order to get me committed to Bainbridge Asylum. They figured it would be the perfect place for me to continue my development and education in the dark arts, given its history and reputation, while also serving to put me in my proper place as my father's progeny. There was one unexpected drawback, however. The asylum's direct.

Bainbridge is a very unique structure, and it lives, it breathes, it eats, it follows its own logic, and it bestows power upon the one who is meant to care for it. The director of the asylum becomes the almighty king of this domain, and it's easy for a weak man to let such power get to his hands. The last director was a greedy tyrant, who made many decisions based on whatever meant his fancy at the time. Bainbridge had no objections to this, so long as he was a greedy tyrant. its needs were met. However, my father very much objected when the director would not give in to my

father's demands. After fruitless arguing back and forth, my father finally decided that it was time to make the director disappear. My father is able to come visit me any time he wants now. Admittedly, it's a nice change from the strictness of the situation before. I really didn't like that last director, especially the way he would look at me. Like I was just some bug he could crush underfoot whenever he was ready. I'm sure I'll see him again sometime in the future and what he no fear then. My father doesn't yet realize what he's actually done here, but I will wait until I'm older and stronger before I glue him in. You see, I don't need his fortune and power anymore. Really, I never did. I found what I need at Bainbridge Asylum and as it turns out

this place needs me too. Whatever my father did to the previous direction, director of Bainbridge missed up the already tenuous balance of the asylum's energy. Thanks to the resident witch of Eward, I've been able to wander about the asylum at night, feeling its walls, learning its secrets, calming its fevers and helping it to heal, and in return Bainbridge has promised me a much greater inheritance than my father could ever offer. I'm not able to accept it yet, being so young and inexperienced, but when the time comes I will be the greatest director of Bainbridge Asylum as ever. ever had. I'll be the only director thereafter. Yes, being created under similar circumstances

and belonging to the darkness itself, the asylum and I are fated to become as one. The next director needs to know this. He or she will need to know that his or her power will be a temporary fixture, and that when it's my time, my rise will be immediate and terrible. The director will have my thanks and will be greatly rewarded for having fulfilled the stewardship contracts. In fact, I planned to give that person the wealth that my father had planned for me to continue hoarding upon his death. Is that not generous of me? Will you not consider becoming the next director? Oh, I do hope it will be you. Bainbridge and I, we like you. Come join our team. You won't regret it. I always wondered why Ghost Hunters never went to Chernobyl.

I've seen movies where they have monsters or mutated animals there, but I've never seen anything on ghosts. You think with the nuclear meltdown and the amount of deaths that happened there, they'd have some activity going on. It peaked my interest so much that I planned a trip there. I've been on small ghost hunts all over the country before, so I was no stranger to this stuff. And I've been to the supposed most haunted places, but never really found anything interesting.

Yeah, I've seen some weird stuff on my journeys, but never anything like what I came across in Chernobyl. The ghosts are completely different there. I'm not sure if it's the radiation before their death or after their death that completely mutated them. For the trip, I had to make sure I went alone. That was my thing. I noticed you get more paranormal activity when you go alone.

Maybe they feel like they have more power over one person than a group of people. But by choosing to go alone, it made the trip extremely difficult. and much more dangerous. After months of planning and studying the land, I was finally there. I drove as far as I could and walked a few hours more to get there. I arrived early on in the day hoping to hit all the landmarks, the ferris wheel, the azure swimming pool and the iconic rows of abandoned apartment buildings reclaimed by nature. When I finally arrived, I immediately started setting up my gear. I set up my camera and started live streaming the event online. I had a few diehard fans that watched me live, but I mostly did the live stream as a type of insurance. If anything

bad happened, I was hoping someone watching would call for help or alert the police. The first few hours were uneventful. They didn't hear or see anything. My supposed voice box was not picking up anything. I was honestly about to start packing up my gear when I noticed a comment on my live stream. Who's that following you? Is that a cameraman? following me. Nobody's following me, I assured them. I came here alone. It's just me. I panned around and retraced my steps, but nothing was there. I thought for sure someone was trolling me, but more comments kept popping up from different people. Who's that behind you? They asked. I always made chills run down my spine, but I had to keep my composure. This could be

a local, or worse, someone looking to rob me. I did have a few things. I did have a few thousand dollars worth of gear on me being all alone in an abandoned city made me a very vulnerable target if anything went wrong i was screwed but i had to find out who was following me okay and let's see how close we can get to it i remembered entering a room with a mirror immediately adjacent to the door maybe i could catch a glimpse of whoever was following me using that i circled around I made my way towards that door. When I'd left, the door was open, but upon my return, it was closed and locked shut. Oh, fuck, this is going to take some time, I told my viewers.

I left my camera facing the door and tried to force it open, but it felt like this door was nailed shut, even though I'd just been through here. I decided to give it all my strength in three pushes and then give up. I mean, I should probably be heading back soon anyway. Three, bang, it flew open. I landed a few feet in front of the mirror, laughing, brushing the dust off myself when I remembered why I'm here in the first place. The follower. I looked up into the mirror, I saw a pitch black mass floating behind me.

I should have run, but I was completely frozen in fear. This didn't seem like a ghost, but more like a black hole had appeared behind me. Suddenly the mass reached out towards me. Before I could flinch or even close my eyes in fear, everything went black. I don't know how long I was passed out for, but when I woke up I was in a completely different place. Everything felt different. The air was warm with a slight noticeable draught blowing in one direction. I stood up and noticed that the room was now covered in an inch of dust.

The room also looked like someone had moved everything around, searching for something. I went to grab my camera and saw that it was gone. I reached from my backpack and that too was gone. Oh great. Someone freaking robbed me. I let out in anger. I was trying to piece

together what had happened but I could only recall black mass. I'm not a person. Sadly my head was throbbing with a headache. I couldn't recall anything clearly at that moment. I started to make my way out of the building when, in horror, I noticed the sky was now dark red and orange. The first thing that came to my mind was that the reactor had somehow

exploded again. I could faintly hear a siren going off in the distance, but it sounded odd. It was broken and not repeating properly like it had been running for years. I started making my way towards the exit and my rental car, which I could not be any further from. I had to make my way through the entire town and pass, God knows what, with all this hell going on. If this was another nuclear meltdown, I was fucked. I was right in the exclusion zone with no protective gear, nothing to defend myself with, and I still had a long way to go. As we got closer to the town centre, I started hearing the strangest animal noises I'd ever heard. I thought for sure the radiation was slowly torturing whatever animals were left here

to death. I kept walking, and I noticed the whole town looked different now. I don't know. I don't what happened when I was passed out, but everything was different. It was like people were still here ravaging through everything. It was so different that I decided I should just retrace my steps so I wouldn't get lost in all this new junk, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was following me, maybe that same follower from before. I entered into a hospital I'd walked through earlier. In here, those ungodly noises were not as loud and terrifying. I swore that something or someone was out there here. in agony, I didn't want to find out who or what it was. At this point I was feeling woozy,

my head was throbbing, and I decided I needed a break. I entered into a room with windows, so I could keep an eye on whatever the hell was going on out there. I was sitting, staring out the window when I noticed even the trees looked different, the closer I got towards the reactors. They were now bare and deformed. They looked like large batwings curled in, but all the trees and branches were being blown away from the reactor towers, almost like a continuous wind was pushing them away. God, I wonder how long I was out for. Could I have been passed out a whole day and all this happened?

I tried to ease my mind. This felt like a living hell. Could I be dead? As all these horrible thoughts were racing through my mind, a mother holding a small child on a shoulder staggered past the window. Hello? I shouted, but to no response. She just kept on limping by in what looked like a great amount of pain. I ran outside in a desperate attempt to get her attention.

Please, stop, I can help. I get running towards her and yelling and waving my arms. When I finally got close, she slowly stopped, but just stared straight forward. They stopped me dead in my tracks. As I was closer I could make out the details were. She was horribly burned. Her ears were nothing but holes, and her face was a blank canvas of melted skin. The constant wind blew away the blanket covering her baby

to reveal a large mass of flesh and small body parts half mutated into her body. Her child was dead. As I was now close enough for her to hear me, I could also now hear her. A whimpering cry was coming from inside her skin-covered mouth. I was petrified in fear. A mutated monster stood in front of me, and I didn't know what to do. In what felt like an eternity she slowly turned her head towards me. She started motioning her head upwards in a sniffing action like she could smell me.

That was enough for me to turn back towards the hospital and run as fast as I could without looking back. I could hear her muffled crying getting louder and louder as she chased me. It was almost like she wanted my hell. I dashed inside and slammed the door behind me as hard as I could, standing, staring at her, and that's when I heard it. Screams of agony started howling from everywhere, and the mother immediately ran towards the woods in fear. I was anxiously waiting to see what made that creature run off then.

Suddenly from behind the building, horrific flesh-looking creatures, started running and limping in my direction. I knew I couldn't hide from these things if they could smell me, so I ran towards the roof. I closed as many doors as I could behind me and quietly sat in an air vent as these creatures searched through the building. I tried to breathe as little as possible,

but that was hard when you were terrified beyond belief. Well, the building was so decrepit and old. I could peek through where I was hiding. I wanted to see what I was running and hiding from. The smaller ones had already left the building, only the big ones remained. As I was peeking through,

a huge man in a hazmat suit stumbled by. He was bloated. He looked like he could pop at any second. His suit was sewn shut like human flesh, like it was a part of his body. Well, he was either terribly burned or mutated. I couldn't tell. Their flesh looked like melted candle wax.

They all finally left, and I was alone with my fear. I felt like prey here. I needed to escape whatever this was. I needed to get back to my rental car. Well, now I'd had quite enough. I left that building and slowly made my way towards the exit trail. As I was walking, I noticed it felt like time wasn't moving here. It had been the same time of day as when I'd woken up.

It had surely been a few hours, but the sky was still the same red and red and orange and this gave me an uneasy feeling. While I was walking I noticed a normal looking house far off in the distance. It wasn't old and abandoned looking at. I had a lit torch on the front porch like someone was currently living there. Finally some good news I thought, but this was towards the reactors a place I didn't want to go to. I decided that the house was my best bed so I carefully made my way towards it not wanting to alarm any more creatures on the way as I was walking I could still hear the out screams and howls off in the distance I could hear the pain these creatures were ripped as I walked towards the house I looked up at the tall reactor

towers they looked enormous I lifted my hand to shave my eyes from the glow that seemed to emanate from them that's when I realized I could see the bones through my skin caused me to quicken my pace. I started a jog since I was finally getting closer to this house. As I arrived, I could see a fire lit inside the house. Someone was definitely living there. Hello, anybody home? I need help. Please, I let out desperately. At that moment, a deformed dog came running out from beneath the deck. I ran back and stumbled as the dog was halted by a chain, just barely keeping it away from him. The dog was missing all its fur and constantly was scratching itself, staring me down a few inches from my face, growling and snarling at me.

Suddenly, behind him, the door flew open. Who's there? Why are you here? Said a man as he walked forward. He was old and looked like a priest. He was wearing a torn robe and some kind of necklace around his neck. Who is there? he repeated, but loud this time. Um, me, I'm here, I responded, confused.

Can you not see me? I asked. No, I cannot see. Come in, quickly now, he said, while motioning his arms towards the house. His dog seemed to calm. I walked past the beast and into the house as he shut the door behind me. His place looked old. Everything in here looked like it was from a sea. century ago. Who are you? Why are you still here? I asked. Why are you here? You should not be here, he responded. I'm lost, I think. Well, I don't know how I ended up here exactly. I was exploring the city when somehow I just ended up in this place. You don't just end up here. What were you doing exactly? He asked Sternan. Well, I was looking for someone. Someone was

following me and I tried to see where it was and they touched me and I ended up here I see so you were why all those things were riled up then I heard a group of those things dragging something up to the church I'm guessing it was you me what do you mean I'm right here you are here yes but they took your body up to the church he said as he walked towards a window and pointed outwards. They sacrificed something every chance they get, those dirty bastards. I'm sick of those things. He said in anger. I wish they would go away so I could rest in peace. What are you? Are you one of them? I asked slowly. But Noah used to be a priest. I stayed back as long as I could held the people pass on in peace long after the army had left everyone behind but i guess i stayed too long because somehow i ended up

stuck here i can't leave or move on so i learned to live with these monsters but i stay near the towers because it's the one place they seem to hate is there any way i can leave this place i asked I don't know. Maybe if we get your body before they tear it apart we can. But I've never tried such a thing. Most who come here never make it out. People have been here before? A few, yes, lost souls like you.

A few government scientists came here once, but never returned. I think the monsters scared them away. Those creatures, the monsters, what are they exactly? Well, they always hid? No, they were people like you. They were left behind or chose to stay behind. Some tried to help. Some wanted to take advantage of the situation with greed.

In the end, the radiation was too much for us all. The government hid from us how bad this situation really was. Am I dead? I asked suddenly. No, not yet. but I am right now you are in between both we must hurry

I don't know how much time you have we'll clench your body and try to put you back he grabbed a walking stick put a few vials of some liquid into his pocket and we were off to the church as we were leaving

he untied his dog and asked him what that thing was man's best friend he responded I used to leave him a bed outside my house. He seemed scared of those things out there. Eventually we gained each other's trust and have been following each other ever since. Not all the things here are like him, though. Almost all those things out there will try to rip you to shreds, given the chance. They

take the limbs off of anything and leave them at the altar, like a gift. A gift for who? I asked. There's one out there who stays hidden. But all those crows. creatures fear him, so they leave him gifts, hoping he won't go after them. What is he? I don't know, but he was close to the reactors when everything went down. I think he is the most mutated of us all. As we were walking along a path, I noticed a body mutated into the ground. His legs were cut off and he was slowly flailing his arms about, like he was trying to get unstuck, but he was cemented into the ground. The old man passed it without noticing. I wanted to try to help, but I'm sure it would have attacked me

the second I was too close. As we got closer to the church, I noticed bones were scattered everywhere. Be careful, he warned. How can you see the way? I asked. I have been here a very long time, so long that I barely remember my life before the disaster. My memory slip away more and more every day and I fear that soon I will become one of these creatures. I felt pity for this man, wished I could help him. We walked towards the back entrance of the church. The windows were all broken and the front doors were barricaded shut. We slowly entered. As we ran to the corner, I could see my lifeless body laying on the ground. I felt odd looking at my own body. I ran towards myself. Oh, I was cold to the touch. I'm dead. I let out in worry. No, you are not. Be quiet.

We are in its den now, said the old man. Now, lay down inside your body, he instructed. I followed along and lay beside myself. Lay in your body. He angrily responded as he was gathering candles and some cloths. I moved over a bit, and somehow I was able to lay inside myself. It was an odd sensation. I was cold and I could feel a wetness all around me. Now what do I do? Nothing.

You wait. He placed lit candles around me, started soaking some pieces of clothes with a liquid and placed it on my body. Stay quiet and whatever you do, don't move. He'd got a few steps back and began to speak. in a language i did not recognize as he was doing this i noticed the statue behind him begin to move it was the one he was speaking about the one who they fed i yelled to warn him when the beast attacked from behind launching both of them to the ground his dog immediately jumped to his aid but the creature

threw him against the wall leaving him lying motionless oh he was terrifying looking in a long skinny arms with legs that were backwards at the knee. Blood was leaking from its fanged mouth while its bloody fingertips wrapped around the arms of the priest. Don't move, he shouted. I was frozen in fear being near this creature, but I wanted to help. While the priest was holding back the fangs from digging into him, he pulled out a vial and threw it into the monster's huge mouth. It released its grip from him and staggered backwards, coughing a green, coughing a green glowing substance that released smoke from anything it touched. I thought for sure it was radioactive. The monster retreated outwards while the priest stood up examining his

wounds. Oh the son of a bitch dug into me deep, he said. Are you okay? I asked. I should be able to finish this, but just in case they come back, I'm going to make sure I get the last hit. He stood up and walked over to his dog. Don't worry, buddy. I'll be seeing you on the other side, he said, while petting his head. He then walked around the church, pouring something onto the ground, saving most for the entrance that we'd come in by. What's that? I asked. You'll see, he responded. He then walked back over to me and started chanting again. Are you going to be okay? I asked. He ignored me and kept speaking in that unknown language.

He was not even a minute into his ritual when screeching roar came from outside the building. He started chanting louder while pulling something out of his pockets. I could see through the holes and broken windows that a mob of those creatures were coming directly our way. There was a lot of them, I shouted. He then lit a match and threw it onto the substance on the ground. A purple flame erupted and lit our entire surroundings on fire. Arms and heads then started reaching into the building trying to grab at us. I felt helpless.

I could feel the threat of certain death on the other side of the walls. He took a step closer towards me as the fire grew and climbed at the walls. A strange glow began to form around me. I pulled my hand up to look closely at my fingertips. when I realized that my physical body moved with me now. It's working, I shouted. At that moment, more and more of those creatures began ripping open the building. The glow around my body grew brighter and brighter,

when the roof started falling down, nearly hitting us. He then knelt down while continuing his challenge. I started feeling sick. My body suddenly felt extremely cold. As the light around me grew too bright to look at, the monsters broke through the walls, stormy inside at a great pace. The priest ignored all of this and kept with his charm. The roof then completely collapsed. It was falling closer and closer, and the creatures were with an armed length of both of us.

And I blacked out. I was surrounded by darkness. Woke, I was in a dark room. The sun was down and I was freezing. I sat up and realized I was back in that room with a mirror. My camera's sitting on the ledge and my backpack laying next to me. Was that all just a dream? I asked myself. I stood up and looked at the time.

It was 3.15 in the morning. What just happened? I gathered my stuff and walked outside. It was deadly quiet. No sound except the wind rustling the leaves on the trees. I started my way back and everything. everything looked normal. I was back in the world of the living. I noticed a collapsed church on my walk back and stopped to look at it. It looked to have been burned. Graffiti covered one remaining

wall. I stood there wondering if I'd imagined everything that had happened. As I was looking through the debris, I noticed old priest rose, completely shredded to pieces. I turned around and walked as fast as I could towards my rental car, not wanting to think. think of everything that had just happened. The car started fine. I made it home with a few bruises, but nothing bad. I looked over my footage the following week, and to my disappointment, it didn't capture anything, just me collapsing to the floor with nothing standing behind me. Did all that really happen? Or did I just hit my head hard enough to think that it happened? Well, I have no idea. I still have nightmares of those creatures and that play.

burning down the Ozarks. Another day, another dollar towards beer money. I thought as I pulled into my company's parking lot. As I walked into the office, I heard the gruff, deep voice of my manager Jerry say, Hey Bob, you're going out of area today. Out of area, meaning I was going to be driving to the middle of nowhere, yet maybe one job completed and I'd have to be back here by sundown. As I was pondering my shitty situation, Jerry walked up to me and slapped me on the back like a mildly alcoholic dad who doesn't know the meaning of too hard and said, You hear me, Bobby? Yep, I'm making less money for the good of the company, right?

Jerry's brow furrowed. The sarcasm in my voice was almost beyond his grasp, but eventually he got it. Listen here, your little ass clown. The company will pay you double for your gas. Take your drive-in-air account for your bonus and give you a free service for your truck. they treat us good if you do good by them. Jerry, a portly, balding, middle-aged, middle manager, gave the same speech and the same tone to anyone who'd ever complained about doing anything extra. Of course, though, I had to ask him why the heck I had to do it today.

Because Roger, Jerry said, referring to the guy that worked the northernmost tip of our area, decided that he hated you and called off this morning. Yeah, but why am I the one who has to take his work? Marley surprised of Jerry's own sarcasm. Because I think you're a limp-dead asshole and needs to learn him some work ethic. Don't go talking about how you served in the Marines and you worked hard. I fought in the Gulf under General H. Norman Schwarzkopf and I know hard work. People like you turned the Corps into a bunch of pussies.

Oh, Jerry, if you didn't notice, was a Marine like myself. but he served in the core in the time before the pussy generation, as he so eloquently dubbed millennials. But to be honest, he was a warehouse manager, like he is now, while when I was in the core, I was busy dodging and pissed off Taliban snipers and IEDs to screw him. Yeah, I know, Jerry, I'm a pussy, because I actually wore my body armor, but anyhow,

before we started dick measuring contest, where the hell am I going? I asked, trying to avoid... normal arguments. Jerry sighed and said, out in the Ozarks, near Grand Gap. Grand Gap. Literally a post office in a general store smack dab in the middle of a massive forest. This place is on a side road driveway. The ghost are about two miles off of AR7. The customer needs two rooms done with a satellite dish set up. Jerry finished. He sounded like he may have felt bad because he knew how much I hate

setting up those dishes. On top of that the chance of us actually getting a signal for the satellite was little to none. So, I'm driving 120 miles out to the mountains so I can tell some backwards inbred that he can't get his TV because of the trees. God, must have been a murder

in a mass life, man. I complained. And yes, Jerry, I friggin' know I'll be compensated regardless. A couple of minutes later, I loaded up my truck and started the long trip north into the mountain and away from the safety of familiarity. I knew the drive would take well over an hour and a half on relatively empty roads,

so I started to let my mind wander. I'd been with cable satellites and more for about two years now, and it still amazes me I haven't quit and or killed myself yet. The hours suck, the pays subpar, and upper management spends most of their time on their knees sucking off the big cable companies, begging for scraps. Now, you may be asking yourself,

How the hell did a combat veteran with access to the GI Bill and four years of leadership training end up installing cable in Arkansas? Well, the best way to answer that is, instead of taking classes and getting a skilled labor job, I wanted to be a badass. At 18, I only wanted one gig, the infantry. Gives you the ability to act under pressure and learn how to lead men into combat. When you get out, most jobs want people with applicable skills. So I tried college.

A state school filled with former professionals turned professors. Expansive libraries brewing with information. Companies from all over the world recruiting to get the pick of the best candidates. Oh, and girls. Lots and lots of girls. I probably don't have to tell you, but I only paid attention to the last one. You see, when you spend four years of your life surrounded by dudes, plethora of chicks in yoga pants kind of distracts you.

Seriously, being the only non-bearded, non-vaping alpha male on campus got me laid a lot. Like I'm talking Ron, Jeremy's hairy ass would have been jealous of me. Well, for my frequency of fornication, not my GPA. But shit happens. And I got this gig while I was directionless. Oh, directionless, by the way, is the word used to describe me by my court-appointed therapist. I'll leave most of the details out, but some punk bitch decided to take it. tell me not to sleep with his girlfriend while I was at stake.

Well, I decided him eating my fist would be the best way for me to convey my feeling of distaste for his sentiment. One thing led to another, I have to go see a shrink for my PTSD. PTSD my ass. I liked what I did over there. Get up, go on patrol, possibly shoot some Hodges, and then go back to the FOB. Simple. Now life's complicated. Got to pay rent.

Have to be politically. correct and I can't shoot anyone even the people who drive slowly in the left freaking lane well whatever maybe I'll be lucky and whoever this customer is will be a super hot art student staying at her parents cabin for winter break she'll house at the door half naked take one look at my manly frame hopefully ignoring the punch hanging over my belt and invite me in to help her keep warm for the winter let my thoughts wander thinking about the pretty blonde maybe brunette waiting for me Looking back, I really wish that was the case.

As I got closer to the address, the GPS on my phone started acting a bit finicky, but it was able to steer me to the right driveway. Well, driveway was a word, but it was more or less a dirt path shrouded by old as hell white oak and cottonwood. I heard leaves and pines crackle under the weight of my truck as I steered down the narrow track. As I drove deeper, I noticed that this part of the forest was dense and barely touched. See, I went camping in the Ozarks every year with my dad until I was 17. Almost everywhere we went, you could tell the woods had been affected by people in some way. You know, random piece of trash, carved initials of young lovers, entire or human tracks and all that shit.

These trees, this path and everything it encompassed seem to have remained unscathed, even though someone apparently lived out here. It was strange to say the least, especially because there seemed to be no tire tracks going up the driveway. The path dragged on and on, and it seemed to narrow out to the point where I didn't think I could fit my truck on it much longer. Then I saw a small patch of brighter earth and an open area about 200 yards ahead of me. I silently thanked the man upstairs that I wouldn't have to lug all my equipment through the woods.

As I approached the opening, I caught my first glimpse of the house, or better yet, shit pile that I'd be working on today. It stood, well, slumped, at around two stories, with rotted wood siding, and maybe two out of ten windows not smashed in. The front lawn was just dirt, leaves and pines scattered around. I couldn't freaking believe my eyes. God, how am I supposed to install TV boxes when there's no power, I thought? I guess it's probably some redneck with a makeshift wind turbine strapped to a treat. Probably going to ask why he can't get his NASCAR. I scanned for the front door and saw a dilapidated plank covering the largest of the house's orifices.

I decided that was my best bet as a front door. At this point I was just honestly hoping no one was home. There was no car. Everything was overrun and I couldn't possibly be a decent source of power anywhere on this property. The guard was definitely not on my side that day. As I approached the front door I saw movement beyond one of the non-smashed-in windows I may have seen some shit overseas

but someone actually living out here in this busted house couldn't be someone I wanted to be alone with but if I didn't at least try to complete the job I wouldn't get paid any bonus as I arrived to the plank door I slowly reached my hand to knock but before I could reach it it swung open behind the door was a person

at least what was left of a person after spending a few months at a concentration camp. This guy stood at six foot tall, no more than 120 pounds. Wide as a ghost and seemed to be made of only bones and thinly stretched skin. It looked like someone had sucked all the fat and sinew out of his body. But the creepiest part was his eyes. They seemed empty, the pupil so expansive that I couldn't make out the color and barely see the whites. I realized I've been staring and looked down at my paperwork. Good morning, sir.

Is this the residence of Mr. Vidher? I barely got it out before he opened the black hole that was his mouth. Wow, have you come? His words rolled off his tongue, heavily laden with a thick, syrupy Scandinavian accent. Here I was trying to install a satellite for Count Dracula. He doesn't ask me what I want or who I am, but... have I come? Who the hell says that? I'm your cable technician, here to get your TV set up, I stammered. It was all I could do to get out of his pitch black eyes staring right through me.

He continued to stare for what felt like an hour until he opened the hole in his face. Oh yes, come forth into my house. I will show you where he will be working, but be warned. I do not like anything in my home touched. Your business here is the television's only. Is that understood? This guy looked like a freaking skeletal. It sounds like a James Bond villain, I thought. Well, aloud, I said.

Yes, sir. I won't touch any of your stuff, or nignacs or personals. Just want to set up the TVs and head back to Little Rock. He stared at me for a second and turned back towards the dark house, beckoning for me to follow. As I trailed my gaunt host into the ramshackle house, I couldn't help but notice the nauseating scent of decaying meat, mixed with a tinge of rustic copper. It was as if I'd wandered into an abandoned slaughterhouse, and I could smell the years of blood and decomposition of millions of animal parts.

Don't think like that, man. This guy's probably a hunter. He lives off the grid and finally decided he missed ESPN and called us up, I thought. But the smell wasn't the only off-putting characteristic of Mr. Vidheris' home. It was the decor, or rather a lack thereof. The front door opened directly into what can barely be described as a living room. The only sign of the natural human lived here was a decrepit rocking chair that looked like it was the sole survivor of Dresden. The wood was badly scorched, and the only parts that weren't burned were heavily frayed. I felt like if I sat down in it, I'd be pulling a thousand splinters out of my ass and wiping flecks of charred wood off my pants for eternity.

I took my eyes off the chair and finally saw the TV I'd be connecting the receiver to. Now, I say TV sarcasticly, because I'm pretty sure the set I grew up with 29 years ago was more advanced. I saw that the ancient beast still had the original wood paneling and everything. I hope to God I had some sort of adapter in the truck, because no way I was telling Dr. Frankenstein, I didn't have the parts. Now, this is the first television. It is a zenith from 1949. I was told your company specialised in connecting new age media to these types of TV sets. Am I correct?

Mr. Vidher turned and looked at me with his empty eyes as he asked this. I should be. I can always figure it out. I lied. The oldest TV I'd set up was from the 90s. I am so screwed, I thought. I'm going to punch that punk bitch, Roger in the frickin' throat as soon as I see him. Ass or better buy me a beer for calling out. Good, I would be very disappointed if I do not have my shows.

Vidher, I think, smiled as he said this and put an intense emphasis on very. He let me pause in the living room to assess the back of the TV. One look was all I needed. One look told me I was utterly fucked. This TV did not have a single connection I recognised, but I had an idea. job description I'd received for Mr. Vidhir stated he did not want satellite on the roof. He wanted it on a pole, and from my experiences with these types of mounts, there is a high chance that this guy won't get a signal, or the ground ain't right for a mount.

All I had to do was take my satellite reader and pretend there wasn't a trace of a signal. Oh, and, I forgot to mention, explains this guy he wasn't getting his shows until my manager came out and verified it. Fuck it. Jerry can die for the company he loves. I'll get over it. As my spirit started to lighten and my mood turned from depressed and terrified to less depressed and slightly hopeful,

my customer decided I was staring at his TV for too long. I'll lead you to the next TV. Hopefully this one will not take too long for you to study. He sounded pissed, so I gave him the go-ahead to bring me further into his creepy-ass house. So I saw the power outlet behind the TV,

but no power lines of that. house is there a generator connected somewhere i had to ask because i didn't hear the loud hum of a generator nor did i see any sign of power being run to the house my host turned to look at me with his vacant eyes and hissed how my homework should not concern you as he said this i could see what little blood this guy had in his body rush up to his face he was angry and seemed barely able to contain He turned back around and started heading further and faster towards the back of the house. I was about to apologize as I thought to keep up with him, but something caught my eye. It was a picture on the wall, one of those old-timey portraits you see in people's grandparents'

house. I could only get a quick look, but from what I could tell, even in black and white, one of the men in the portrait looked exactly like Mr. Vidhah, like to a tea. The only difference was the guy in the picture had normal eyes and didn't look. look so disproportionate. I couldn't be him. This picture had to be from the 1880s or something. Ridd Herr stopped abruptly, before I could finish studying the picture and pointed toward an open doorway to our right. He said, this is where the last TV is, and it is exactly like the first one. Do you need to stare at it incessantly, or will the information I have given you be enough?

As he asked this, I could literally feel the sarcasm and frustration pouring out of him. Oh, what the fuck is this guy's problem, I thought. Then aloud, I said, with a false smile. Just knowing the type and where it is will be enough for me. The weirdos seemed satisfied with my answer and took me a bit further to a back door, flanked by two more busted out windows. He opened the door and walked through them to the backyard, which was as equally dishevelled as the front.

"'Okay, sir, I know you want the satellite somewhere in the yard, "'so I'm going to go ahead and try and find a signal. "'I'll come knock on the door when I do.' "'You looked at me and said, "'I will stay outside. "'You seem young, and I generally do not trust the youth. "'The fuck, he is supposed to respond to that.' "'I looked over at Mr. Creep, he and said,

"'um, okay, it's kind of boring, but feel free to watch. "'No other way to follow someone telling you. you he doesn't trust you who could blame him i was planning on saying there was no signal even if there was one and going home as i started wandering around the yard hitting random buttons on my signal finder to further help my goal of pretending to find a signal i was able to take in more of my host his eyes and ugly ass face kept me from looking at what he was wearing his clothing looked as worn as he did his long black coat was covered in irish penance and his white button-up shirt was was slathered in old stains.

Geez, this guy really is all kinds of fucked up, I thought. As I was wandering around the yard, I also noticed something else that was a bit suspect. Every three to five yards or so, there seemed to me little holes

recently covered up. It was like he was planting a garden or maybe some trees. Well, I would have asked, but he was clearly not much of a conversationalist. After about ten minutes of drifting around and hitting random buttons,

my host's eyes never left me. I decided it was now or never to tell him I had no signal. Sir, I hate to say this, but due to the trees in the area, I have no line to your provider's satellite. Or to me, the only option would be to remove some of the foliage. I was barely able to finish before the anger flash in his big dead eyes and the blood rushed to his face again. You will not touch any of my trees.

They are precious to me. As he screamed this, he closed the ten-yard gap between us in three steps. And you will give me my shows. He was so close to me by this point that the lifeless holes on his face were mere centimetres away. Okay, this was my final freaking straw with this goddamn psycho. But alas, I'd lose my gig if I blew up on one more customer. I took a deep breath and said in my best customer service voice, I understand you're upset, sir.

I think the best way to resolve this dilemma is to try and get my manager out here. To myself, I thought. Fuck, Jerry. Let's see how tough his old core is when he meets this crazy mother. As I said this, Vitha seemed to settle down and the blood stop pooling in his face.

Very well, but you must know I care very deeply about my forest. You mustn't harm it in any way, he said, still containing a hint of his anger. what needs to be done next? Well, I need to go get the proper forms for you to sign, and then we can go ahead and call Jerry, my manager. Don't worry about the trees, we won't touch them. I said, trying not to smirk.

Is this Jerry as insolent as you, and as uncaring about Murph Forest? He asked with heavy disdain. I looked up at him, trying with all my might not to look pissed and said, only slightly sarcasticly I might add, not at all he's a perfect gentleman and he loves trees i mean the guy has at least 12 in his backyard somehow they satisfied the tree-loving psycho okay well i'm gonna run over to my truck and

get the forms want to meet me inside i asked hoping he'd say no and i wouldn't have to go back into that terrifying place no i'll be out here waiting as he said this he seemed to root himself on the spot he was standing like his trees and remained unmoving. I took this as my sign to get the fuck back to my truck and get Jerry's fat ass out here. Not wanting to go through that horror show of a house, I took the long way around the side

and back to the safety of my waiting truck. As I passed the side of the house, I saw something that caught my eye. A massive painting was hung on the wall, possibly being the only object not completely dilapidated, but still very creepy. The painting was of a massive tree, but it looked like all the branches ended with a human head with no eyes and dripping out blood.

The trunk of the tree decided it had to outdo the branches in the most fucked up contest ever. The trunk was shaped like a man whose legs were firmly rooted into the ground. His body straight as an arrow and its arms held high in the air, turning into the aforementioned branches. But the face of the trunk man took the cake for the macabre challenge. The mouth was locked in a purse. permanent scream, spewing rivulets of blood that pulled up at the tree's roots. The eyes were wide open, seemingly fixated on the branches above, as if in a trance with the

gore-stained scene going on above its head. What the, I mumbled to myself. If you were smart, Bobby, you'd leave. But alas, I'm a dumb redneck grunt from Little Rock, and I refuse to leave until the paperwork was signed. I had bills to pay. So I decided to ignore the massive every. that this place was probably not too safe and continued onto my truck as I approached

my truck I couldn't help but notice that it looked significantly lower now before you have to ask yes my truck was lifted and I may or may not be compensating for something regardless of my inadequacies as I got closer I saw that my two front tires are gone flat I said aloud to myself me sideways how that I nearly yelled that last fuck but I kept it down so I wouldn't have to deal with Vidha. I walked over to my now useless vehicle and inspected the tires and when I realized what had happened I silently cursed myself. Since I'd been so busy trying to avoid lugging equipment around, I hadn't noticed I'd part directly on top of an upraised tree route. Now I had to not only make Jerry come here,

but I'd need him to pick me up some spares. He was going to be pissed. I took one more look at the depressing sight that was my lifted 24-inch custom tires and opened the front cab. I started fumbling around with my little folder filled with different paperwork until I found the right documents. Thankfully, I had one copy left. First good news of the freaking day. The shitty part of the no-signal process is that you need the customer to verbally confirm with the manager that they want the site issue confirmed. You don't ask me why, probably some legal bullshit. as I started making my way back to the yard, this time I took the sight that didn't have the creepy-ass painting on it. So I arrived again to the backyard. I couldn't help but notice the

absence of Mr. Vidha. Oh shit, I muttered to myself. I headed towards where he was last standing. Maybe he was taking a leap behind one of his precious trees, and God knows there was no plumbing in that horror house. I made my way towards the end of the yard, carefully avoiding the little mounds and and started scanning the tree line. After about 30 seconds, I started to turn away and make the walk to the front door, hoping that he didn't want me to come inside. But as I was turning, I caught a glimpse of something black, billowing about a hundred yards away in the woods.

I moved in a bit closer and further away from the house and could sort of make out the object. God, it was Vidher's jacket. As I took a closer look, I then saw a black boot only a few feet from where, I was standing another roughly 30 yards past that. Did this guy just stripped down and wander into the woods? Well, this was it. The weirdest freaking day of my life.

Oh, you may be thinking, why didn't I bug it and flagged down the first car I saw and get the hell out of dodge? Well, the answer is, I'm an idiot, and I'm curious by nature. Also, I couldn't just leave a job. It would apparently jeopardize a trust. between my small company and the big ones we contract for. My next step would be to call Jerry and figure out what the hell I need to do. I pulled up my phone and hit Jerry's number.

As I waited for the familiar gruff voice to ask, What the phone do you want? The phone cut off. I looked down at my screen and saw the dreaded call was lost tag pop in front of the screen. Oh, fuck me right in the goddamn ass. I tried again and this time it wouldn't even ring once. I started wandering around the backyard, hoping there was a stronger signal somewhere. I finally gave up.

My efforts were fruitless. It dawned on me that Jerry was with one of our new guys today up near Mountain View, about 100 miles east of where I was and a good two-hour drive. On top of that, the call service may have been even worse out there. No other manager was in today, even if I could get service, they wouldn't pick up. My only option was to call the dispatch office for the satellite company. The folks over there have about zero sympathy for us not completing a job that was given to us, but having someone at least be aware of my situation may stop me from being canned.

I made my way to the front yard and thankfully found a single bar of service. Just in case I tried Jerry again, but... No. I started scrolling through my contacts list and found the number I was looking for. I started ringing, thank God for small miracles, and thankfully I heard a pleasant female voice. Thank you for calling Northern Star The number one satellite TV provider in North America

How can I assist you today? Wow, all this time saying I got someone to call I had no idea what to tell them exactly Um, yeah, I'm a contractor out of Little Rock That I um, uh, have a bit of an issue with my current appointment I waited for a moment and I heard the lady sigh and saying an annoyed voice Have you tried calling your manager Oh, these freaking heartless bastards.

I needed a small amount of assistance, but it was too much of a freaking problem to take a call. S.OP dictates you speak to your manager before calling us. I've heard that a hundred and fifty times. I wanted to say, bitch, he has no service. I better got this call going, but instead I tried a more diplomatic approach. I apologize. I know this isn't standard, but I can't reach my boss. he's out of service. I waited, praying she'd have some sympathy in her heart.

Okay, sir, I'll transfer you to our area dispatcher, prepare to hold. And like that, I was sitting there in the middle of nowhere listening to the soft melodies of log-ins and Messina while I waited for the dispatcher. The music abruptly stopped, and I heard an equally pleasant yet male voice on the other end. Hey, this is Jack. I heard you got a problem out there in Little Rock. Thank God this guy wasn't a dick. Hey Jack, I've got some weird stuff going on out here, and I'm definitely nowhere near Little Rock.

I'm in the Ozarks, deep down in some backwood stuck. You have an MIA customer. I blurted out. Oh, it's shit, the job number. Here it is. 306-742. I heard Jack typing away at his keyboard, and a few mouse clicks later, he said,

Okay, eh, Mr. Vidhair. Oh, yeah. He's totally out of your work area. How'd you end up out there? Ah, frickin' call out, man, I said. Realizing these phone calls may be monitored, and I should ease up on the cussing. Okay, so you said he is MIA?

Like, he isn't at home? No, Jack, I'm all. I went to my truck to grab some stuff. I mean, shit, stuff. I came back, and this guy was just gone. Weirdest part, though, I saw a trail of his clothes leading out into the forest. Like, his clothes. Yeah, man, his clothes.

From what I could see, it was his jacket and both his boots. Even I was starting to think this was made up. There was no way this guy believed me. Well, I'm looking through all my notes here, and there's not a single SOP explaining what to do if a customer wanders off into the woods. But I'm pulling up some satellite images of the area, and I do see a small pond formation about a half-kilometer from his house.

Maybe he went swimming. As he said this, I could hear him stifling his laughter. Look, I know this sounds crazy. There's a whole bunch of creepy-ass stuff going on around here. This guy is terrifying looking. The house is barren except for an almost 70-year-old zenith and a rusty-ass rocking chair, and not to mention this painting, I replied, hearing the frustration in my own voice. Painting, Jack asked, either moved by my tirade or trying to avoid a confrontation with a crazy person.

Well, I couldn't tell, but he definitely sounded less light-hearted. after he asked this, I gave him a brief description of the picture I'd seen, what the guy looked like, and even the weird little mounds, and for a fleeting moment, he was silent. I don't know how to tell you this, but as long as he wasn't adagued to you or under the influence of alcohol, he's going to need the paperwork signs. Jack stated, a matter of fact, but to me, that would be absurd. This whole situation sounds crazier than a group of shithouse rats, and I think you should call it a day. I mean, I wouldn't want to be there, and I'm sure your company would let it slide if you said you felt uncomfortable. I like this guy. He didn't just state the guidelines and hang up.

He reacted in a logical manner and said something a non-office drone would say. I thought I'd made a company man who thinks like an actual person. Well, I'd say the solution would cover the rest of my problems, but I've got another issue. My two front tires are blown, and I only got one spare, I said, hearing the defeat in my voice. Well, don't worry about it. I'll contact a local... As Jack was about to offer me my salvation from this mess, I heard the high-pitched scream of a woman coming from out in the forest.

The last time I heard a scream like that, some Sivian Afghanistan had found her kid torn to shreds by an IED. Bobby, are you all right? What was that? I could hear Jack, but my senses were dialed up to ten, and I could feel goose flesh forming on my skin. Bobby, did you hear me? what the fuck was that? Jack asked again, but this time I answered. Yes, some lady screaming bloody murder right in the goddamn direction that weirdo walked in,

I whispered, trying to keep myself unnoticeable. Jack, my mind's telling me to run down this driveway and don't look back. But if I leave some woman out here to some horrible fate, I'll hate myself for it. Bobby, everything about this place sounds horrifying, but that had to be a neighbor or so. I cut Jack short this time. Man, you got the sad images. There ain't a single freaking person around except for crazy eyes out there. He hadn't upstairs.

Could have been keeping a chick up there for all we know. And the minute I left, he grabbed her and took her to the woods to... I couldn't finish the sentence. I was already all nerves. And thinking of someone getting killed or worse out there might have put me over the edge. Jack, by the time the cops get out here, if someone's getting hurt, I think I need to go out there. I couldn't hear Jack on the other end.

He was contemplating what I just said. But if you're dead set on wandering off into the woods and confronting whatever's out there, go grab your Bluetooth and bring me along for the ride. I'll try to call the local PD on the other line. Jack said, I honestly thought he would at least try to stop me. Okay, Jack, I will. Let me get some stuff from my truck. I responded.

Thankful, I wouldn't be fully alone. I made my way again to my truck and reached under the seat to grab my piece. I'll call me a bandwagoner, but I do love me a Glock. Put the gun in the front seat and put my Bluetooth in my ear. Jack, you hear me? I asked. Those Bluetooth earpieces were finicky at best and I didn't want to lose my only companion. Yeah, I got you. Are you sure you want to do this?

Now he's asking. Yeah, man, some poor lady might be. getting hurt out there. It's a specific duty, I said, trying not to reveal how terrified I was. I grabbed a magazine from the toolbox and started pushing 40 caliber rounds into it. I slammed that bad boy in the pistol and pulled the slide back with an audible click. Do you have a gun? Jack asked hesitantly. You bet you're sweet ass I do. I'm in Arkansas and we actually have the right to defend ourselves out here. I'm not judging, but just glad you have some.

some protection. I mean, S.LP dictates, I have you fired, but the situation seems to call for a gun. Thanks, Jack. A hint of a smile formed on my face as a question came to my mind. Jack? Yeah. Are you in a cubicle right now? I asked. Thinking of the irony of a guy wrapped up in his pre-death coffin, listening to me embark on an adventure, or quite possibly my ultimate demise. That's really what you're going to ask me? Not like. like, hey Jack, can you call the cops? Or, hey Jack, can you convince me not to walk into the scary woods towards a screaming person? Or, why are you condoning this jet?

He blurted out, sounding a little exasperated. But I can answer the last. Spent eight years in the army and my old lady wanted me to take a desk job when he had a kid. Now I'm stuck, cradding away behind a desk, hoping for a just taste of something interesting. Well, I felt for the guy, I mean, I'd rather be in a temperature. controlled office building, not worrying about monsters or whatever the fuck was out there. But still, I'd probably rather die than have to make small talk with a bunch of office drones every day.

So I guess I was on the fence about who had it was. Oh, and no, I'm actually in management. Just took over for one of the guys who's sick. So I'm not in a cubicle, you prick. I'm in my own office. I have a window. Jack said triumphantly, I couldn't help but laugh a little.

But like this guy got screwed by a call-out too. The walk from my truck to the edge of the forest was less than a football field, but every step felt like a mile. I could feel my heart beating in my throat, and my stomach was turning to knots. The perspiration on my forehead started to drip into my eyes as I made my way towards the tree line. I decided that maybe talking while I still could would alleviate some of the fear that was building up. I wiped the sweat away from my eyes as I said the first thing that came to my mind. So, Jack, what'd you do in the army? I had a sigh on the other end of the line and then.

After OCS, I went straight to job training in civil affairs. Then Auburn, then aerosol, and lastly ranger school. After four years, I made captain, went to Psiops and transferred over to first special forces command. Another odd question to ask at a time like this, Bobby. Well, the first part sounded rehearsed. He probably got asked that a lot. Yeah, I'm just trying to build up courage here. "'Cyops, sir.

"'Passing out flyers are doing shady shit,' I asked, "'hoping I didn't sound too judgmental. "'With none of the light-heartedness I'd heard him speak with before, "'he stated, shady shit. "'All my experiences with anyone, "'even support personal, "'and special forces, was generally negative. "'They were always trying to be mysterious

"'and act like whatever they did was secretive or clandestine. "'In reality, it was probably a 23-year-old NSA intern. with a pimpled face and thick-room glasses that had more security clearance than these super-soldiers. And I know Syops guys probably really do some weird shit besides yelling at Taliban on a loudspeaker, so I'd give him the benefit of the doubt. Well, I definitely passed out my fair share of flyers

on my first tour with Syops. Jack continued with a hint of a laugh. You seem to know a thing or two about the military. You, sir? Yeah, man. USMC-O-3-1. I said with gusto. I heard another sight and Jack stated,

Well, if you survive, I'll buy you dinner. A gallon of glue and a brand new box of crayol would sound good to you. I let out a laugh. Some of the fear assuaged and said lightheartedly, Fuck you. Not my best comeback, but I just reached the edge of the forest and the humor I felt moments ago had dissipated and was replaced by that stomach-knotting fear.

All right, Jack, I just made it to the... Again, another ear-piercing sco. came from farther into the woods. But unlike the last, this one didn't finish. It seemed to be cut off at the last second. It was go time, and I started running full tilt into the unknown. Bobby, quit running. Whatever's out there is going to hear you coming.

Besides, whoever was screaming doesn't sound like they made it. Jack whispered into my ear. See, that's the difference between a guy like me and a guy like Jack. I think tactically and in the short term. Jack, obviously a strategy thinker, decided that there was no point risking me or our chance to stop whatever was out there for someone who was probably dead. Fuck it, though. Maybe this girl was hot, and if she wasn't too jacked up, I might get a blowy out of this. Hey, I don't hear you slowing down, Bobby. Yeah, that's because I'm a crayon-eaten Marine, and I want to kick something.

Another scream. Follow by, help me, please, someone... The rest, cut off by another scream from the speaker, followed by a vulgar tearing sound, and a noise I can only describe as a bucket of chum being dumped out on a dry dog. The screams this time came from maybe 30 yards ahead of me, but the sounds had stopped completely, making everything eerily quiet. I heeded Jack's advice and slowed my sprint to a walk. I got down and started low crawling to where I thought the screams had come from. As I inch closer I could feel the roots and sticks, making small cuts on my stomach.

It was as if the whole forest floor had turned against me. But the pain subsided when I smelled something familiar. Rusted copper. Blood. I saw a large tree in my path and could make out a clearing beyond its massive base. I inched behind the tree and took a quick glance into the clearing. I felt bile reached the back of my throat. Vidher had his back to me as he was lifting up an axe and bringing it down on the body of a rather rotund and definitely dead woman.

I guess you're never too fat to be kidnapped. He kept bringing the axe down over and over again on this lady's already decimated corpse, blood misting and squirting out of her newly opened orifices. I also caught a glimpse of what had made the splattering chum noise. About three feet away from her body, it looked as if her stomach was torn out of her. and all of her innards were spilled onto the ground. It was a squirmy mass of intestines, kidneys and other organs,

all leaking blood and other fluids. The smell of blood, half-digested food and shit from her punctuated colon permeated the air. It was so strong I felt as if I could taste it. Jack, I whispered as quietly as I could into the Bluetooth. This guy disembowed a chick and is chopping her to pieces. Jack didn't respond.

for what felt like ten years until I heard a quiet munchy. Sorry, I didn't catch that. Got bored waiting and grabbed a snack. Snickers really do help hunger pangs, you know. Fuck, Jack. I'm out here watching some woman get butchered by a psychopath and you're eating the Snickers. I whispered. Try my hardest to keep Vidhair unaware of my presence.

Sorry, Bobby. You weren't saying much and I need a snack. You're still alive, so nothing too crazy happened. Jack stated, matter-of-factly, avoiding the topic of the horror show in front of me, he continued. Also, I think I'm under something. I did some research while you were fucking around in the woods, and I think maybe I know what you're dealing with. But you ain't going to like it, brother. I was getting impatient and trying not to retaste my daily egg McMuffin,

so I said as quietly as I could while expressing my annoyance. What? Just tell me. I dare I can be more creeped out than I already am. Well, behind the tree, the mounds, and Mr. Tall, dark and terrifying. I think you're dealing with the evil Danish god of the forest. Jack said, without a hint of humour. What the fuck are you talking about?

I asked incredulously, and possibly a bit too loudly, because Vidhe suddenly stopped hacking. Oh, shit, this is it. This is how I freaking die, I thought. but the footsteps in sudden death never came and the hacking resumed. Jack then spoke up. Well, that was close, so anyhow, I'll explain what I found. I went on to some sort of occult Google. I've never seen this search ending before. Basically, you type in a description of a monster or whatever shit you're dealing with,

and it tells you what it is. I'm pretty positive from what you've told me that you're dealing with a Danish forest guard, who happens to be an evil prick. like super-eel. He requires pieces of a thousand corpses to build his army of humanoid tree monsters. So, for example,

if you were to dig up those little mounds you saw, you'd be fighting fingers, toes, hears, and other human parts used as a seed to grow as far as friends. As Jack was speaking, I poked to the mound near my foot. As I did, the loose pile of dirt revealed a piece of a human ear or tongue or something. I don't freaking know. I'm not a doctor.

Jack continued. Next up is what he looks like. See, his body isn't a tree per se, but it's a tree with a face, screaming his commands and look into the heavens. Oh yeah, there's severed heads on the tips of his branches that spell blood to help his tree babies grow.

Any of this sound familiar? Jack stated, sounding almost amused. Sick fuck, I thought. Aloud, I whispered. So Vid Harris, some sort of nut, serial killer trying to complete his masterpiece of a god he worships. After asking, I took another peek around the tree and saw a vid hair and bend over and pick up the lady's heads.

He then walked over to the other side of the clearing and poured out a massive ladder while balancing the blood-soaked head under his arm. Every time I looked out from my little cover, it seemed as if there was more and more blood. I would say it was just from that chick's cut-up and body, but it seemed as if the whole clearing was covered in fresh, undisturbed pools of blood. and that's when I realized that I'd hidden behind the wrong fucking tree. I looked up and saw the backs of hundreds of severed heads. If I hadn't seen that painting, I would have thought they looked like coconuts, but I knew better.

And as to solidify that what I was seeing was real, a huge glob of blood spewed out of one of the heads and landed in the clearing with an audible splat. So here I was in the middle of the Ozarks, leaning against some crazy airs, effigy of a forgotten guard with a psycho no more than 15 feet away from me lugging around ahead. This is definitely within the top five of the worst positions I've ever been in. Jack then spoke up on the headset. Hey, so here's something else in case your day wasn't already ruined. Apparently, Burstuk, that's the guard by the way, has a psychic that he grants immortality to for their service. The servant is described as being of great height, little

girth and eyes as black as coal. That describes Vidha right. I swear Jack sounded almost excited about all of this. I took a quick glimpse into the clearing and Vidhair was failing at his balancing act and trying with great intensity to grasp both the ladder and the head. I took his moment of distraction and slowly made my way back towards where I'd come from and to get to a safer vantage point. Jack, I made it back about 20 yards. Can you do me a favor and call it? cops. I don't think I can do much more for that lady. I whispered, still trying to keep quiet. Yeah, I'm just going to further ruin your day. I've tried about five times. Each time I try reaching the town you're in, the call goes dead. Try calling the police out here in Manhattan to see if they

could do anything. Well, they laughed and told me they can't do much for someone in the middle of the Ozarks. I think you may be on your own. Well, except for me, buddy. Hey, if it's any consolation and you get killed, a crazeal devil worshipper or its pet tree god well i'll avenge you okay jack was either the calmest mother in the world or he was truly enjoying all of this so what the hell should i do jack and why the fuck you so calm jack took a deep breath and spoke calmly almost coldly put two rounds in his chest and one in his head i highly doubt this guy or his tree are actually anything supernatural just a not job who was obsessed with Danish folklore. And to answer your question, I spent a large amount of my life

fighting some of the most violent, despicable terrorists on the planet. Some lady getting her guts spilled out and a skinny weirdo serial killer cutting people's heads off isn't too far from the shit I've seen. Damn, this dude is hard, I thought. Probably the best dispatcher I could have had today. A loud, I asked. Okay, but what if they're...

Well, they are, you know, supernatural. Once again in that cold voice, Jack spoke up. As per the article on these guys, you'll need to set aflame the old God Burstook, and the servant will again be mortal. So said Burstook on fire, before he comes alive and then shoot Vidher, easy-peasy.

Damn, I bet this gung-all-ass army man wouldn't be so tough if he were here facing this thing alone. But he sounds confident. I've got to have some faith, I thought. I close my eyes and kept my back to my new cover. You're going to do this kid? Just go up there, tell him to freeze, put a few rounds in him, and when the cops finally show up, just say he charged you. Oh yeah, I should mention this call.

Isn't being monitored, and you probably shouldn't mention parts of this conversation happening, Jack said. Okay, I'm ready to put this asshole down and get the hell out of here, I said, hoping I sounded less terrified than I felt. He got this buddy, Jack said, trying to motivate me. I started back towards the clearing with the nightmarish theme and a rotting pile of innards as quietly as I could. As I got closer, I could see Vidhair on his ladder, fumbling to place the head on top of a branch. If it wasn't so horrifying to look at, you'd think he was just an ordinary guy, puts in around in his backyard, not a sociopath burying and hanging parts of desecrated corpses. I gathered up what was of my shot nerves and bellowed.

"'Hey, dick back.' Vidhair turned his head to warp me as I snuck up behind him. Get down off the ladder, slowly. Once you hit the ground, turn around and put your hands up. I felt and sounded like a testosterone-fueled cop. It was almost as cool as being a testosterone-fueled marine, but instead of listening to me, Vidhir hopped down off the ladder and turned to face me.

With a devilish snare, he said, is my tv ready cable boy he laughed at my perplexed look what you think i should fear you and your mortal weapons as he was speaking he started toward the axe that was resting between us lord bestook granted me the gift of an unending life as long as i facilitated his rebirth in our world and assisted him in becoming the ruler of the forests once more he was no less than five free from the axe when i yelled I'm warning you, nut job. Do not take one more step, I will fucking spray your goddamn tree puppet with your fucking brain matter. In my ear, Jack shouted. Nice line. Where'd you hear that, a movie?

Ignoring the psycho in my ear canal and keeping focus on the psycho reaching for the axe in front of me, I took a few steps back so as to avoid any axe-wings if vid-hair reshrined. You are a fool, boy. I've been rebuilding the garden of Bostook for over a century. Many mortals have tried to stop me, but their bodies and their glorious life's blood belong to my lord, and soon Burstook's revival will be completed. But you, you will never bask in the glory of my lord, for I shall bring down his justice and let his children bathe in your blood.

As he said this, he charged forward, reaching for the axe. I warned him not to move, but he made his choice. I felt the welcome feeling of the gun recoiling in my hand, and the vibrations it sent up. my arm. Well, my aim was I bit off, but all three rounds found a home. The first two ripped into his stomach, filling the already stinking clearing with the smelling of rotting meat and faecal stew, and the third snapped his head back as it buried its way between those black as night eyes, fulfilling my promise of spraying his precious tree with his brain matter and skull fragments. Vidair crumbled in a heap on the ground, adjacent to the left-over pieces of the girl he'd

butchered earlier. I heard the crackling on the Bluetooth. Is he dead? Jack asked. Again with that ice-cold voice he dawned when he was talking about taking lives and stacking bodies. Well, I was pretty sure, but I started walking over to make certain I'd be facing manslaughter charges in my near future. I was a foot away when Vidhasan bolted out and grabbed my ankle. Pain shut up my leg. His grip was like a bear trap. I put two more rounds in his skull which caused his head to once again violently flail backwards smashing into the ground but his fucking hand stood strong i reached out and grabbed the axe and took a powerful downward swing severing his bony appendage and releasing the pressure on my ankle i don't know if it was the adrenaline or the

fear but one thing i finally noticed was that he wasn't bleeding five bullets in a detached hand but barely any blood just a small trickle from the axe room a where I saw brain and skull fly out when I popped him in the head. Jack, he isn't freaking bleeding. I put five rounds in this asshole and chopped off his hand just a few drops. I said, desperately trying to express my confusion. From what I can read, the servant will drain all his blood to feed the early parts of Beresdwick's development. Jack said, finally with a hint of worry in his voice. Bobby, I think this might be the real thing. As Jack spoke the last word,

Vidhair's eyes turned towards me as the holes in his face healed themselves. He let out a guttural laugh and roared. I have already proclaimed. I have been given the gift of immortality by the great Lord Berstuk, and no corporeal weapons can scathe me. If you heard him, he stays down for a minute.

Do something and get the fuck out of there. Jack yelled through the headset, and he was right. I picked up the axe, for Vidha could make a move and brought it down onto his skull, splitting it almost clean in half. I saw what was left of his brain matter spill out onto the forest floor. There's no way he's getting up any time soon, I said into the mic.

I cut the fucker's head clean in half. Still, instead of admiring your morbid handiwork, why don't you get the fuck out of there? Jack yelled into my ear. He was right. I started booking it through the woods, hopefully towards my truck, and the large can of gasoline I keep in the bed. Even though I was at most 200 yards away from my truck,

my swollen ankle kept me from getting there quickly. Vidhair was probably already healed up and fixing to feed me to his tree. Luckily I had Jack help keep my shit straight as I made my way back to my waiting ram 1500. When I made it into the art, I went around the side with the painting and made sure to give Bustick the bird and said,

I'm going to burn you down, motherfucker. and all your little tree babies. And your servant vid hair. I'm going to gut him slow. Just you wait, bitch. Talking to a painting, Bobby? Jack chirped in my ear. You may need some therapy when this is all said and done.

Way ahead of you. Apparently I have PTSD, I responded. Ah, don't we all? Jack said with a bit of humor in his voice once again. While we were talking, I made it back to the ram and started sifting through all my junk looking for my gas can. Found it, I said triumphantly. And my lucky lad is in the dash.

Jack, I may not die today. You should set your standards a bit higher. Let's hold off from celebrating until you ice the tree master and his psychic. Hurried? Jack asked. Hurried, I responded. Slightly annoyed, he wouldn't let me have at least a second to chill. But I grinned to myself as I pulled out the naked woman-shaped light I'd had since I was 18. It was the last birthday gift I'd gotten from my pops.

Yeah, he was that kind of guy that brought his son a tick-covered lighter that had nipples that glared in the dark. I love my pox. All right, Jack, I'm taking the long walk back. Hopefully I don't run into Vid-Had. If you do, just put a few bullets in him and keep moving. Jack said, back with that frigid voice of his. I started my way back towards that god-awful scene in the woods, doing best to remain quiet and unseen.

The pain in my ankles subsided, or my mind had given up on trial. trying to tell me to lay off it for a while, so I was able to move a bit quicker. My ultimate goal was to get back there and find vid hair, still split open like a pinnaut. Made it to about ten feet out when I saw a familiar semi-nude man standing in the clearing, as if he was waiting for me. I guess no lock on him still spilling guts on the dirt. Jack, fuckface is standing again. I'm going to pop a few more rounds in him, maybe hack off a foot.

Don't waste any time, man. Who knows how close Burstook is to coming back? Put around in Vidher's skull and set that fucking tree on fire. Jack commanded. He was right. I charged forward, and before Vidhair could react, I placed another round between that little shit's eyes. He crumpled back to the ground,

and just for shits and giggles, I grabbed the axe and swung it right back into his skull. I turned around to face the nightmare tree and tried to figure out how to go out burning down this moment. Bobby, from what I can tell, all you gotta do is set the trunk on fire. I should take care of it, Jack instructed from the headset. Also it says something in the article you should probably hear. Do not speak to the old guard because he can and will bend you to his purpose, so don't talk to the tree.

Oh, great, I'm gonna get Jedi mind fuck from a talking tree. Can't wait to tell my shrink. And that's when I first saw this thing's face. It was just like the painting, but more expressive, angrier. I started pouring the gas on the base of the tree trunk, which added another wonderful smell to this already shidden death-filled clearing. As I poured the last of the gas onto Bustuch, he decided then he was going to speak up.

Hello, Robert. His voice sounded like Barry White after a bout of laryngitis. Why do you attack me? Why have you heard my faithful servant? We mean you no harm. All we want is to bless the world with my glory. I looked at the old God's face when he was talking, but not once did I see his mouth move. It was as if he was speaking into my mind. Don't talk to him, Bobby. Just light him up and go home, I thought. And then his voice spoke up again. Robert, you have accomplished nothing since leaving your warrior class. I can grant you immortality and a life of bliss. New woman every day.

Your coffers filled with limitless gold and power over all other men. Take my root and drink deeply from my life's blood, and your every desire will be fulfilled. As he said this, a spigot formed on his trunk directly in front of my face. Jack, the tree's told. talking, I murmured. Don't listen, Bobby. Jack yelled from the headset.

He's just distracting you. He doesn't need two slaves. Think about it. As Jack was yelling, I felt myself drawn to the spigot-shaped root, protruding from Bistook's body. Fight it, Bobby. Don't be a goddamn window-licker. For some reason, being accused of licking windows

pulled me back to reality, and it's almost too late. Ridd Hare was sneaking up behind me with the same axe I'd spilt his skull with twice But the last second I dodged his swing by jumping backwards into Burstook As I felt the axe swipe past my face As I dodged the attack I dropped my lighter into a tangle of Bustook's roots I was able to lift up my 40 and pull the trigger four times But only three rounds came out of the barrel

The last got jammed in the chamber I watched as one of the bullets struck right where his heart should be but this time Vidhahd didn't even go down. He stumbled slightly and moved closer, laughing maniacically the whole time. Fool, Bastuk is close to being completed and his powers fueled me to unprecedented strengths. Now be still and I will end this quick.

Vidhark proclaimed. Okay, then do me a favor and answer two questions. Won't fight anymore. I said in my most defeated voice. Vite has seemed to ignore my request until. Let him speak, my faithful servant. Bestook boomed. His weapon has ceased to be useful and can do us no harm.

His begging for life will amuse me. I heard in my ear. What are you doing? Run, he can't be that fast. Jack begged. Ignoring Jack, I got onto my knees and discreetly grabbed my lighter while feigning injury. Dying on your knees, how pathetic. Vidhair mocked. Ask your questions and be done with it. I looked Vidher in his dead eyes and asked,

why would you ever let me distract you? As I asked Vidher this question, I hit the starter on my pop's old lighter and dove forward as I felt my ass being scorched from the burning gasoline flames. An unholy scream erupted in my head, causing my ears to ache and my head to spin. I will tear you limb from limb. I will come from limb. I will come. back and take your head as my first throat burst hook couldn't finish his sentence because the flames had reached his face i saw us the bark that was his flesh charred and burned the hole while he was screaming in my head i was able to shake off the shock and turn my attention back to vidhair hopefully he was no longer immortal he just stood there staring at his mask with tears welling up in his eyes why have you done this

You could have been a part of the great Lord, Best Duke, but you have slain him, Vidhair cried. My last act as his servant will be to avenge him and take the life of him. Before I let this asshole finish his sentence, I unjammed my glock and shot him in the stomach, just so I get the chance to watch him die slowly. I look down at Vidheer, and it seemed the spell or whatever it was begun to wear off, because he looked like he was in pain. His intestines are spilling out of the gale.

a raping wound in his gut, and I finally saw the right amount of blood starting to pool in the dirt. In a weak voice, he said, my whole life, in servitude to my lord, ended by a low man, a servant. As he spoke, I saw a blood trickle out of the side of his mouth. I guess a bullet fragment ended up in his lungs. What I felt now was the right time to ask my last question. Oh yeah, before I forget, before you die. Why the fuck did you order satellite TV?

I asked, hoping that I'd finally find out why I was out here in the first place. Vidheir smiled a bloody smile. Looked me in the eyes and said softly, I missed the view. That Raven Simone is a hoot. Well, I thought my opinion of this pathetic shit couldn't get any lower. when he said the view was the reason my ass was out here, I emptied the rest of my magazine into his skull,

spraying his fucking brains for the last time, onto the forest floor. Jack, it's over. The tree's burning up and vid her empties insides onto the ground. If it wasn't for you, buddy, I'd never have made it. I hear you a drink, brother. I said into the mic. So, an ancient deity and his undying sycophant killed by an... outer shape four-marine-turned cable technician.

Who the hell would have thought? Jack says. I'm glad you're okay, buddy, but it looks like the local PD finally noticed. They gave me a holler on the other line. That freaking chief of police gave me a serious tongue lashing, yelling about the crazy not blasting off rounds in the woods. Fuck, I'm about 85% positive. I just saved the world, and I'm probably going to be arrested for murder.

I complain. Well, if you're not going to be arrested, I'm not. makes you feel better, I'll probably get Pop for helping your ass out. So, want to be prison roomies? Jack asked, with a hint of humour. I grunted in response, as I heard the distant sirens. Ah well, at least I won't have to install cable anymore. The human experiment chamber.

I am Harvey Seidon, the humble researcher working for the International Secret Service. I was delighted to find out that I was leading the IESC, newest project and testing is taking place primarily underground next week in the Human Experiment Chamber, SF-23. Its aim is to develop an innovative and shocking method of torture which is designed to discourage potential ISS members from betraying the organization and as a punishment for captured hitmen from overseas discovered to be targeting ISS leaders. Over the course of the project I will document every detail in this written report, along with a video to a company that results of each experiment. After the project has formally ended, I'll suggest the best

conclusion or conclusions to the testing based on the evidence collected. Once again, I thank my superiors for allowing me to pioneer this project, which will undoubtedly benefit the ISS community for as long as it exists. H.J. Seidon, Human Biologist, qualified researcher SG 64. That's the opening statement for my report. Now I don't blame you for thinking I'm some kind of insane genius, but I'm not the kind of Frankenstein you see on television. In fact, I'll admit, I'm a pretty emotionally unstable guy, and I've been hiding myself behind a facade since I joined the service.

I'm working for the ISS, a criminal organization, and I've been working there for a long time now. The airquarters is situated underground on the coast of Concaven Island. It's like the Mafia, just less well. well known and it's brought me a handful of problems as a US citizen not to mention some emotional trauma too but I couldn't resist the temptation of good pay for the rest of my life so at the end of two years of service I signed the unbreakable contract after a further two years in the job I began to believe that anyone whether they started meek or macho could condition themselves into a state

of mind where they felt almost no empathy for anyone else the human brain needs conditioning to keep empathy senses refreshed so the more you don't use it the less you'll be inclined to feel sorry for random people right but then i realized it wasn't that simple and sadly i realized too late i'll take my word for it if you're a normal sane human being don't ever try to fit in with the psychos that's because there's a difference between the fakers and the real deal what i'm trying to say is you will never know what's inside the mind of a psychopath if you weren't born one yourself anyone that tries to believe otherwise will ultimately drive themselves insane but one nine a.m. It was time to meet the unfortunate victims. There were 13 inmates who'd arrived from a prison on

the island. The purpose of seeing the subjects before beginning the tests was for estimating measurements, but it was still nice to get to know. them before sending them to their deaths in the most painful ways imaginable there were two women and eleven men as I was scribbling down descriptions on my notepad one of the big guys tried to attack me although we can only go as far as the metal bars of his cells would allow the sudden outbursts still made me jump I made a mental note to order extra restraints for this one I put my clipboard down and decided to talk to them some swore at me in every sentence

but most of them were nicer than I'd imagined, which was creepy, especially the middle-aged lady who'd poisoned her husband and had offered me a foot massage. I asked them what crimes they'd committed and whether they were scared at all. Some notable answers included things to do with animals and my mum. The sight of a teenager in one of the cells caught my interest. I never seen such a young inmate to arrive here for testing before,

and I wondered what crime he'd committed. He asked him if he was afraid, his approaching face and he answered i'm less scared than you are i'm sad to say that he was probably telling the truth a thin white smile spread across his face when he saw my expression change i'm not sure why but i suddenly felt slightly nauseous i convinced myself he was bluffing and walked away quickly a young blonde lady refused to talk to me at all she sat in the corner of the last cell sobbing continuing I guess that she was in her mid-twenties. That's why she was crying,

she tried her best to convince me that she'd been falsely accused of murdering her sister. They don't lie when they tell me the most innocent-looking ones are always the most cunning. 1 p.m. I decided to skip lunch for reasons I'm sure you'll understand.

My heart was beating fast, but I did my best to hide my anxiety, then called in the first test subject. I asked my scientist to set up the camera and other monitors whilst I prepared the instrument of death. Originally I had no idea what to name it, but my little bored scientist suggested, Angel's Wings, and he described it well. I chose the macho-looking guy who tried to attack me to go first. When he walked in, I expected at least a swagger or a glare, but I got none of that. I could see it in his eyes.

The guy was more terrified than he'd ever been in his life. Security strapped him into the long box-shaped metal frame. He was encased in what looked like a hollow cage without the extra bars in the middle, two flat iron bars met in the centre of his body. Attached to their undersides were many small sharp iron spikes, suspended above his chest. The guard nodded at me, and without warning I pressed a button which suddenly lowered the two iron bars, plunging the spikes into the middle of his chest and abdomen.

He screamed and clenched his fists as blood began oozing out, then turned his head to look at me. I raised my eyebrow. I'll only start when you're ready. Remember, the longer you wade, the more it'll hurt, I reminded him. He breathed heavily and turned his head back around to look at his bleeding body. Then he winced and looked away again. What are you going to do to me? He yelled. The bars, I pointed, are going to move in opposite directions until you split open.

He took a moment to digest the thought. Can you hold my hand? He pleaded, like a little child. I hadn't expected to hear that from a guy like this, and I was almost amused. No, I answered straightforwardly. Are you afraid I'll break your bones? Can I start now?

Okay, just don't tell my family how I died. I don't want them to know what happened to me. We're not going to tell your family anything. Cheers, he wheezed quietly, and then closed his eyes. Fuck this stupid ass world. Just do it. The scientists sat opposite me, holding their pens ready above their notepads. observing, eyes wide open like hungry wolves staring at prey.

Simultaneously I pressed the start button on the timer and flick the switch which started his ordeal, preparing myself for the screens. The two metal bars began to pull his skin apart incredibly slowly. He grimaced with his eyes closed for ten seconds and held it in for as long as he could. When the green line on the pane monitor leapt up, his eyes burst open he led out a blood-curdling shriek. Around three minute mark his organs started to be exposed and I had to pause the machine temporarily since he was close to

passing out I restarted it after two minutes he was too tired to scream by the end of ten minutes when all of his organs were completely exposed but it wasn't until they started to slide out of him when I started to cringe I reminded myself that he was still alive and conscious

whilst all this was happening suddenly I had an inexplicable urge to vomit. I knew I needed to keep focus and watch the graphs in case he died, but my mind drifted elsewhere. Though he was just a criminal, he had a family and people that probably cared about him. What if they knew that I was the one doing this day? I had a family too, and admittedly I hadn't told them the entire truth about my profession. What would they think? He was dying from something I created. I never thought about it. it in that way before to be quite honest it hurt me inside when i did well i told myself that his family

weren't here they would never know of this never know that i did it well they probably didn't like him that much anyway doesn't fucking matter just do your job i walked the other side where neither the scientist nor the camera could see pretending to analyze the breathing graph in more detail and there i gripped hand, slippery from the blood dripping down it. He turned his head towards me, and for a second I thought I could see some sort of surprise in his eyes. I prayed that he wouldn't spend his last seconds alive cursing me. Then his skin ripped from his sighs and dangled from the iron nails. He continued to breathe heavily for a few moments before he died, and the machine made a high-pitched beeping noise. Swallowing, I let go of his hand and he was. Swallowing, I let go of his hand,

waited as his organs sloshed out of him one by one and onto the floor timer said 15 minutes 35 and the lady scientist stopped the camera 15 minutes 35 seconds how was it i asked she looked down at her clipboard the skin stayed intact which was good as it was on top of the priority list for this device it moved outwards at a steady rate too how However, continued the bald scientist, the time he was alive fell short of the predicted time by half a minute. Also, if you were to redesign the model, we suggest some sort of appliance to keep the organs inside the body.

That might improve the time. Their voices were calm and steady as they taught. I looked into their eyes, cold, robotic, unblinking. I wondered if they'd ever been sympathetic to anyone in their whole lives. I wonder if they were wearing masks like me. Right. I was thinking that too. I'll take it into account in the report.

Art 2. Two days later, 4 p.m. My boss Ormond grinned the whole time as he watched the video, occasionally making unsympathetic noises such as ouch and who. These people were not human. Either that, I was a lot less tough and I thought I was. It was time for the same. second torture instrument. This one was less unique than the first one, in the sense that similar

things had been tried before, but it was the boss's idea, not mine. Apparently, it was also the one which kept the victim alive and suffering for the longest time. A call for security to bring me a random test subject. She was dragged into the room, screaming and begging. It was the young lady with a blonde hair. She shouted that she didn't do it, and that she was innocent, but I was taking none of it. I signalled at security to strap her into the confinement. I had a feeling she wasn't going to tell me when to kill her, so I didn't bother to warn her.

Slowly, I took out a syringe in a small jar full of bluish-yellow liquid. I closed the box, then unscrewed the jar-lit, sucking out a syringe full of its contents. No, please, don't do this to me. I walked closer, holding my poker face, showing her I was uninterested. She continued to sob and pat. I wasn't the one, she whispered, and she shook her head frantically.

I knew who killed her. It wasn't me. Don't do it. I positioned the syringe above her collarbone and plunged it into her neck. She moved too much, so I had to steady the needle to avoid it snapping. As the fluid entered her skin, her neck started to turn slightly blue, and her veins swelled up. She gasped in agony. Then I ran over to the laptop and started the timer.

According to the measurements, she'd be dead in around three days. Strabo head to the war, I told the lady scientist. When her neck turns white, you can leave. I'm off to take a bite. Harvey sighten. She shrieked at an ear-piercing pitch, just as I was about to walk out of the door. I turned around, my eyes wide open. Oh, I hated it when they'd call.

called my name. You're a smart young person. You've got a lot left to live for. Why did you become a murderer? Murderer. I wasn't a murderer. It was my job to kill murderers. And that doesn't count as murder, does it?

Who are you to judge? Something clicked inside me, and I suddenly felt feverish, like my brain was overheated. Well, I would ask you exactly the same, for getting moments. herrally that she wasn't a guy. I really didn't. You have to believe me. I finally went to get my lunch. Man, it had been a rough day. I changed my clothes and came out from underground after two hours of security checks. I thought crossed my mind. How was I so sure that she was guilty of the murder? Was it faith in the justice system? Most likely, of course, but it didn't matter whether she was or not. She was already going to die.

But it felt like I needed some sort of proof, or I'd be uncomfortable living with the possibility that I killed an innocent for the rest of my life. 7pm. Just one more hour of goddamn report writing than I could go home. My eyes were starting to see double. But then there were the security checks again. I had to keep my profile real low working for the ISS, and that meant suffering another two hours of fatigue. When alarm sounded, I got out of my care.

cubicle to take a look at what was happening secret agents scurried around like black mice mainly towards the left corridor so i followed them it just so happened that omen was looking for me he led me to the cells in which the test subjects were kept and i saw all of them strapped tightly to the wall much like the lady in the experiment chain two of the cells which i realized belonged to the middle-aged woman and a ball guy were empty i asked my boss what was happening and he explained that one of the guys monitoring the CCTV footage wasn't paying attention, which had allowed the two removed subjects to commit suicide by banging their heads on the war repeatedly. Part 3. One day later, 4 p.m. I checked on the lady still strapped in the chamber before I began testing on the next victim.

Unsurprisingly, she'd stopped resisting and her body hung almost lifeless. Her whole body had turned white except for her face, which had a blue tinge. Sweat, and she'd. Sweat and, she'd still drip from her forehead, so I gave her some water, then examined the graphs, comparing them to the ones produced by the first test subject. Pain receptors detected slightly lower levels of trauma than the first, but it had a tendency to increase as the victim approached death. Security produced a crooked old guy with the most circular spine I'd ever seen, and they looked at me as if asking whether this guy was suitable or not. Yeah, he'll do. Strap him in. I fastened my goggles, then put on my gloves and protective clothing.

He made no noise, just looked around. I was hoping that I'd started to get accustomed to the project since this was my third test already, but as I imagined him crying out in pain, I felt that inevitable sense of dread return. It was annoying me now. He sat down on a metal chair with a circular base. Unlike the others, his eyes told me nothing. He just seemed like a man tired of being alive. The chair was nailed tightly to the wall behind it and was clamped to the ground for extra security.

His limbs were locked in place. His arms were spread in a T-shaped across the wall and his legs were fastened to the legs of the chair. Then his head was strapped into a solid square-shaped device with an iron frame, and the scientists used two tiny metal clamps to clamp his eyelids wide open. Using more metal clamps, the device positioned a curved block of solid green acid just a millimeter or two in front of his open eyes. A large glass box was placed over his head. When you're ready. There was no hesitation at all.

Aye. I pulled a lever and the device moved the block of acid so that it was pressed against his eyes. He screamed and I quickly flicked a switch. above my head which first sealed the glass box so that it became airtight, then activated a heater which produced a temperature of around 50 degrees Celsius. As the acid melted, it burned his eyes and skin. The green line shot up instantly, and the device rattled as he tried to move. An hour later there was nothing left except for patches of black, red and green. His face was pink and the skin of his cheeks and forehead was burnt raw and purple. He grinned. He grinned.

I was roamed constantly. I couldn't resist closing my eyes for a while because I didn't want to look anymore. There were cameras and observers everywhere doing that for me, so I didn't have to anyway. Surely I could give myself a little comfort by saying that he deserved what he got? I took a deep breath and opened my eyes again

and turned to the scientists. It ends here when the acid melts completely. One hour, three minutes. I pressed the last button, and a blade sliced his head off completely. Bart four. I sat at my desk, typing away. Clunk. Abruptly I spun around on my chair.

There was nothing behind me, so I shut the door and continued writing the reports. I planned to upload the video along with it, too, as I usually did. However, I seemed to have misplaced my laptop, and that was a problem because I transferred the video files onto there from the camera. The lights flickered, and I heard more bumping and knocking noises, but I wasn't sure where they were coming from. Just as I was about to get up and investigate, the phone rang, and I sat back down to pick it up. Harvey Seidon, from Room S.G. 64. Who's speaking?

This is Alma. Well, hi, boss. How can I help? I like you to show what you've done so far regarding your report to our newest contract. treat this also as part of the ISS contract testing. I zoned out and stopped listening to his words. Someone or something was slowly shifting into view of the cubicle window. Someone with her face wider than paper. Someone blonde clutching her neck.

She limped closer and closer to the small glass viewing pane in front of me. I panicked as a million questions raced through my mind. How did she get out? How could she have moved all the way across the corridor without being seen? What the hell should I do now? She turned her head and blood dripped from her mouth and nose down onto a white prison uniform. When the sight of her lips curved upwards into a smile, I nearly shipped my pants. There was only a thin sheet of glass separating her from me.

Sighton, are you still there, Sighton? The voice came from the telephone, which I dropped at my feet. I can't warn you, she spluttered. They told me to. They said they'll get you and everyone you love. What? What are you talking about? I yelled.

You have a young brother called Joey. He lived through your parents on the coast. Do you know where they are? How the hell did you know that? She was bringing up family members I hadn't seen in ages since I'd started working for the ISS. They took your laptop. They know everything about you. You can't hide from them anymore.

Who is they? You'll see a bead of sweat trickled down the side of my face. The problem was it wasn't my laptop. It was the ISS's on which they stored the database of their employees. Furthermore, if they knew things like my brother's name, they must have also been able to access it with the password. My mind was in a chaotic state, but I only worried truly about one thing. Whoever they were, they had access to information about me which they weren't supposed to know, my address, and the address of my family members.

I flicked the emergency switch and bolted the fuck out of that. Two seconds later, security guards grabbed the lady and dragged her back to herself. following the trail of blood. I wondered what an earth had gone wrong. Then, after I entered the imprisonment chamber with the security guards, I immediately knew who they were. Two of the doors of the cells were left wide open, and I couldn't believe it.

Who is in charge of the security cameras here? I yelled. The inmates stead at us, heads strapped to the wall, smiling unnervingly. The lady's scientist ran into the chamber. I believe it was a man wearing the trench coat. He told me he wanted to have a word with you. I'm not going to bloody talk to him. Just tell him he's fired from my department for neglect of misconduct.

Right now. She ran off without a word, and so did I, back through the hallway and into my office cubicle. Before my boss could catch me, I'd secured all the locks on the door and took out my personal cell phone, dialing my brother's number he'd ask about this mess and i'd have to cover it up somehow but first i had to warn him that his life was in danger he didn't pick up the first time so i tried again i was relieved for a second when he did until i heard the voice on the other end speak hi bro how you doing it was cold and brittle nothing like joey's voice who are you you know who I am Harvey. You wouldn't forget your own brother, would you? Cut it out. Tell me what you've done to him.

If you really want to know, you'll have to be patient. How did you get past security? I said, you'll have to wait. The line cut off and I steadied my breathing as best I could, but I still wasn't able to stop myself shaking. Or should I call the police? No, there's nothing. They're be able to do. My phone vibrated and an email popped up. There was no subject and the only word in the email was, enjoy. Great, I'd found out my email address too. And what the hell were these attachments? The thumbnails were blurred so I couldn't tell what it was exactly. I uploaded the videos onto the computer and clicked on the first one, which was named Man One. After a brief period of static noise, the

picture came into view the video quality was bad but I could make out that it was some sort of warehouse three figures sat in clear view next to each other each tied to a chair by their arms and legs from left to right I recognized them as my dad my mom and my brother Joey they were unconscious and their heads drooped to the side and it came over me and I choked on my saliva spluttering as I continued to watch my family were in danger and It was all because of me. Someone began to talk, but I couldn't hear his voice over the sound of the alarm and the chaotic yelling in the background. I turned up the volume and rewound.

Hello, Sighton. It was the same creepy voice I'd heard on the other end of the line just now. A man walked into view, though, I could only see him from the waist downwards. He was wearing black jeans and sneakers. Another one followed him, wearing the prison uniform. houses and was barefoot. The guy in the sneakers was on the left. He poured water on my parents and Joey, and they began to regain consciousness slowly. They were all in a state of shock. Where the fuck is this? I heard Joey yell. Who the... Another voice silenced him. He belonged to the teenager. This is for the big guy. He pointed at my dad, who looked around terrified. Wait, take the phone.

Oh, go to the other side. He instructed the other guy. The camera moved up and closer to my dad as the teenager flipped the chair so that my dad was lying on the floor on the chair back. When they both took out knives, I realized what was going to happen. No, no, you've got to be kidding me, I whispered.

They were screaming and shouting in the background. They stabbed my dad just below his neck and pulled down sharply, splitting his abdomen. Then they used the knives to cut him open, exposing his organs. I couldn't watch, so I looked away. When I looked back, my dad had stopped yelling in pain, and his head had dropped. No, fuck! I screamed.

As if I felt tears rolled down my face. My nails had punched the skin of my palms, and there was blood on my sleeves. The video was cut off and the window closed. Still couldn't stop shaking and breathing hard. I clicked on the second video named Woman to embrace myself for the worst. But I wasn't ready for what I would see next. The footage was shaky because the teenager was holding the camera. The other guy was in the scene and he put a hand over my mum's mouth to stop her screaming.

Joey yelled at him to let go of my mother. but his anguish cries were left unheard this is for the blonde chick he said he held a glass bottle full of some strange red liquid which fizzed about I screamed when I realized what he was about to do next he unwrapped a syringe he'd taken from the cardboard box on the floor then extracted some of the liquid in it he proceeded to inject it into a neck and he chucked it over his shoulder a chair rocked back and forth as my mom yelled in pain and her legs kicked the chair.

Minutes later blood squirted out of her eyes and her skin had turned blue as she suffocated to death. I closed it down, sobbing uncontrollably. I felt drops of blood slither down my arms as I clicked on the final video titled Man Three. I'd switch roles again. Now the teenager was in the scene and the camera focused on Joey. Dude, bring it closer, he told the other guy.

When he did, I was able to see the stains that tears had made on Joey's face. This is for the hunchback. His voice was almost happy. He took the bottle of red liquid from the previous clip and unscrewed the cap, laughing. Joey cried and yelled at him to stop. Both guys started laughing wildly as he put on some plastic gloves and pinched Joey's face. He poured the liquid directly onto his face, burning it pink and, black. Joey's screams were muffled out by the sound of gargling and choking. And then I vomited.

I skipped the last ten seconds or so, as I couldn't bear to watch it all. Both guys were in view now, the teenager holding the camera like he was taking a selfie. Do you know what this is? The other guy asked me directly as he pulled out the laptop from inside the cardboard box. We saw the videos you made. So we decided to make our own as well. He thought it was rather fucking mean, so we decided to give you a taste of your own medicine. You can't get us,

but we'll see you soon, Harvey Seidon. We're coming for you. Then the two murderers laugh madly. The video turned black and the browser closed for the last time. They'd split my dad open like I'd split open the first man. They'd injected my mom with poison like I had injected poison into the blonde lady. They burned the face of my brother like I had burned the face of the old man. They'd made me pay.

And that was it. I prayed the videos were fake or something, but who was I kidding? I'd sent my own family to their deaths and they'd never even been told what was happening. Essentially, I'd killed them. and how karma had sealed my fate and I was next. I understood real pain. For the first time in my life I asked myself, why did I not have the dignity to treat each human being as a life?

Why the fuck did I allow myself to take up a job which would cause not just pain and suffering for the victims, but endless grief for their families as well? Ultimately, I dragged myself into a position so low, even criminals would mock my name. Anyone working for the ISS was a cursed madman. I wasn't a psychopath. I didn't want to be a psychopath,

and I was going to stop pretending to be one too. Someone was knocking on the door, but I ignored it. I wondered why when I held the bloody hand of the dying man, did I not clench my fists till my nails made my hands bleed? Why, when I injected the poison into the veins of the lady, did I not cry and yell for her pain to stop. Why, when I scorched the face of the old crook, did I not vomit and disgust? I knew what I had to do. I unlocked the door and raced past the man waiting for me outside. The boss's office was in the building below, and I was sure he was at

the scene of the discovered breakouts. I took the lift down and went into the room, searching for his gun. Grabbing it from the top shelf, I took the lift back up and bolted through the empty hallway. Employees and contract killers alike gathered around the imprisonment chamber, and an irate, red-faced omen was cursing, trying to figure out what had happened. The inmates knew everything, and they laughed and spattered him. I pushed past them with all my strength until I found myself standing back in the experiment chamber, where only the blonde lady was still restrained. I locked the door behind me, blocking out most of the noise.

She was still strapped tightly against the wall, and her face was deathly pale. Her body convulsed violently. Using what little strength she had left, she turned to look at me. I walked closer to her, then aimed the gun at her head. I believe you, I said. Whether you're telling the truth or not, I still believe you. Because you were right, I am a murderer. Her face lit up, and I pulled the trigger, putting her out of her misery.

I sat down and cried for a long time. I cried because I realized that by barbaric shame I brought upon humanity and how I'd failed to see it until it was too late. If I were the Harvey sight and everyone thought I was, I wouldn't be here sobbing like a baby. I'd be denying that I ever did anything wrong, carrying on with my life feeling no shame or remorse. but I'm not a psychopath and I think that somewhere in the back of my mind I always knew I would never live up to my name

and I lived in fear of the day that I'd acknowledge it well my story ends here I hope you enjoyed it because you're not gonna hear from me again I'm not proud of a single thing I've done in my life except for what I'm about to do now because if I've learnt one thing from all this is that I should never have been born someone's telling me to open the door i have the gun pointed at my head but i'm hesitant because i'm afraid wait a minute harvey jack sidon afraid what irony no doubt the people i butchard were afraid but it's not like they had any choice i'm the one giving myself the easy way out it's time to fix that mistake named the existence of harvey sidon it's time to end it here Part 5. The lady's scientist sorted into the research hall. She had a proud grin on her face as she looked around. A while later everyone stopped talking and stared at her, wondering what the hell she was doing.

At last she spoke. Guess who Ormond's new head researcher is? Everyone clapped with congratulations. She walked over to her new assistant, the little bald scientist who patted her on the back. You won't go bats and shoot yourself like Sighton did right. Of course not. I'm a professional. She'd have cared to emphasize that word.

I remember he said something like that as well. Never mind. When are you going to restart the testing? Her grin widened, spreading from ear to ear. Yes, I've got everything planned. We're starting tomorrow. I modified Sighton's remaining prototype. with my own little touch, so they're going to produce the best results possible.

What? Right now? We haven't even prepared the experiment chamber. Then what the hell are you standing around for? She snapped. And while you're at it, tell Ormond we need two more subjects to replace the ones that got away. Whatever you say. Where was his laptop, containing the videos?

She couldn't find it anywhere in his room, but he probably would reappear. later she walked into the empty chamber and stood still momentarily to calm herself she'd never been more pleased in her life this was where she would continue his work and she couldn't wait another second to start she sat at the desk and began to think about his suicide which had occurred to her as strange sidon's prototypes and report were both excellence admittedly better than anything she could ever produce he was the perfect man for the job and it was the perfect job for him why a man in such a great position would want to kill himself was beyond her understanding and she would never understand because she was pure evil she'd been born that way in the human experiment chamber episode two

Yvonne gates was head researcher orman had been forced to promote her after security Security discovered the dead body of Harvey Seidon lying in the experiment chamber five weeks ago. The reason behind his suicide was still the mystery, and though she thought about it for a long time, she was never able to reach a sensible conclusion as to why he'd finally pulled the trigger. However, that issue didn't matter anymore, because she had now become the third most respected figure on Kongcaven Island, standing only before headquarters boss, Allman, and the boss of the ISS. She'd finally realized her secret childhood dream to become one of the most feared criminals in the world.

The project was nearly over, which disappointed her slightly. Over the week, she'd enjoyed using Cytton's prototypes to butcher, burn and skin most of the remaining test subjects. She was proud of the tests, because they produced decent results which delighted the boss. Their screams did not haunt her, but pleased her very much. and each experiment prompted her to take the next to more extreme heights now there were only three left alive lying in wait for death to come terrified furthermore her pay had been tripled she couldn't have been happier in her life sitting in sitan's cubicle which was now her own she unwrapped a pagot of crisps and put her feet up on the desk as soon as she reclined back in her chair the phone rang and she rolled her eyes

taking her feet off the desk again to reach it. Yvonne Gates, S.G. 64. May I know who's speaking? Yeah, I'll tell you who's speaking. It's your boss, Alman. Oh, hello, Alman. What can I do for you? She always called him by his last name, never bots. That was what Seidon used to call him,

and she refused to follow in his footsteps. She refused to suck up to him. The only person she would call boss, was the real boss himself. I want to discuss private matters. Please come to my office. Sure, I'll come over when I finish my lunch. No, Gates.

You'll be over here right now. Ormond's secret. Gates, I'm warning you. He growled. You may think you're something. The boss might reckon that too, but I know what you want. and you know it too so don't deny it almond i have absolutely no idea what you're going on about

for some reason the one time ivon gates ever told the truth in her life orman still hadn't believed her ah i knew you would admit it you're a goddamn fox that's what you are never mind it's only natural i'd want exactly what you want if i were in your position but remember you're just a temperament temporary replacement. You're not half the man to Sidon was, and you never will be. That's a little sexist. You know what I fucking mean. Now go away and just remember that I'll be watching every move you make. Sorry, Armand, but the language you're using is threatening. I could get you reported if... Gates, just get out of my sight. I refuse to leave until an explanation

has been... Get out. Ormond yelled in fury, slapping the keyboard on his desk. He picked up the cordless phone and aimed it at her head. Without hesitation, she sprinted out of his cubicle and wondered what the hell was wrong with him. Gates and Orman hadn't been getting on particularly well since he'd been forced to promote her. He didn't like her self-worshipping personality and much preferred Seiton, who'd been naturally quiet and never questioned his superiors. She couldn't deny that she enjoyed Sighton's company as well, but now she'd replaced him, and she was going to make it clear that she was there to stay.

The strangest of all, she couldn't understand why Ormond had burst out like that. There had been tension between them, but it had never gotten violent until then. What was he so worried about? Something he thought she apparently knew, her secret. For once she didn't know anything she wasn't supposed to know, and that worried. her. Suddenly, Max Bridges appeared right in front of her from nowhere, making her lose her train of thought. Bridges was the good-looking contract killer who'd recently been employed by Orman, and moved from an underground ISS branch in Indonesia to the HQ. He was a smooth guy with

the most gorgeous neck-length dark hair and a smile that would make any girl swoon. But she could argue that she was pretty attractive herself, being a woman in her mid-twenties. That's why he'd seemed to have taken a strong liking to her after he'd joined the HQ. She didn't deny that he was pretty cool, but as of now, she wasn't interested. He was merely a tool she could use in her rise up the ranks, just like everyone else. She stumbled backwards and nearly fell, but he caught her arm just in time. How have you been, babe? He winked twice as he spoke. Not bad, you.

Bridges lifted her chin and leaned in for a kiss, but the grin at his face disappeared when he felt sharp fingers grip his neck. The idea. They walked together through the central hallway, side by side. That hurt, you little fuck, moaned Bridges as he rubbed the bottom of his chin. That'll teach you to touch a girl. Thinking about Ormond again, she found herself glaring angrily at the back of his head as she passed his cubicle window.

Bridges, do you like almond? She suddenly asked. Her voice no louder than a whisper. He raised his eyebrows disappointedly at her, as if he were listening to a little girl beginning to gossip. Yes, I love almonds. Seriously, or man, he juggled. To be honest with you, I haven't known him as long as you,

so I can't really judge any better than you can. He doesn't look that great, though. Why? What's he done to you now? Remember, this is strictly between us two. Do you understand? Sure thing, but. So, just a minute ago, she began. He called me into his place to yell at me, but the thing is, this time he kept on saying that he thought I knew something,

or that I was going to do something. Many demanded I admit it. I don't know what the hell he's bullshitting on about. She took a breath, then continued. Then I got the fuck out of that Because he was gonna chuck something at me Do you think he's going nuts? I don't know

Well he definitely doesn't treat me like that I haven't signed the contract yet Even after five years of working at the ISS So if he did dare to yell at me I'd get myself out of here And the boss would kill him for losing someone productive and valuable like me Oh stupid bridges

I signed the damn thing a year into the job Now I'm stuck here for the rest of my life well I'm sure it's not just that you mentioned he likes Sighton right yeah and he's using that against me as well keeps on feeling the need to remind me that I'm not as sighton well a dick-sucking bullshit well I definitely hope you are he smiled she looked at him angrily and sighed they were both clueless but then he thought about it for a while and he finally understood you said he again accused you of knowing something, of wanting to do something in my rights.

Yeah, I couldn't imagine what, though. Bridges suddenly laughed out loud hysterically. How on earth could you be so stupid, he remarked. What? Look, think about who you were and who you are now. He hates you because he knows you like taking stuff for yourself. Oh, don't look at me like that. Everyone knows you like that, even me.

his favourite employee's sidon just died and now he's been forced to make you the head researcher so were you just going to stop it there weren't you thinking of i don't know maybe getting promoted just a little further at first she didn't understand but then she realized what he was getting at you see in both ormond and bridges were both thinking one step ahead of her they seemed to know her far better than she knew herself oh you're right she gasped He thinks I'm going to try and steal his job. Wow, and the woman thought he knew what you were thinking. Talk about smart, he did. But you're the type who usually plans these evil things. Why didn't you think of such an obvious thing to do? I don't know.

My mind was wandering at the time, and I was too busy enjoying myself with that project. I wasn't really thinking about stuff like that. You mean of that project? too much blood and guts for my taste rather just shoot them but i guess you'd like that kind of thing you creepy psycho i suggest you watch your mouth if you're talking to the head researcher here yeah whatever see you later babe feel free to cut me open any time he blew a kiss as he walked down another corridor and she rolled her eyes again ritches was smarter than he looked and she reckoned staying on his good side would do her well still she couldn't understand why such a blatantly obvious idea hadn't even popped into her mind now she knew what alma was thinking she could put her worries to the side hallucination she made herself tea before returning to the imprisonment chamber the security camber had run out of battery so the three remaining inmates had been left unsupervised for at least three or four days jackson the bald scientist who was monitoring of the security pictures had forgotten to feed them. And they sat stationary in the corners of their cells. When she entered, carrying a handful of batteries, they glared at her menacingly. How you doing, boys? They didn't reply,

but started growling in anticipation. She dragged the stool across the room and positioned it under the broken camera. The soon-to-be test subjects watched every move she made, lying completely still in waiting. She stepped up onto the stool and removed the camera from the wall. wall. Yvonne Gates. She had an ominous whisper from behind her. Who's that? Ivan Gates. It came again. You want to do it. You do. She heard another voice. You want to do it. You know you want to. You do. And you're going to get it, aren't you? Stop it, stop, she demanded, becoming a little afraid. She turned around and all three inmates were clutching the bars of their cells, staring at her with wide eyes.

The three voices spoke in unison. They all told her to do it. Well, they're trying to scare her. Kill him, Yvonne Gates. Do it. You can do it. You want to do it, don't you, Yvonne Gates. We want you to.

Just do it. Just kill him. What? Kill who? Even though she asked, somehow in the back of her mind she knew who they were talking about. You don't like him, do you? Then just kill him, slice him open, and it's all yours. You know you want to do it. It was crazy. Where were they getting the ideas from? She glanced down at her hands.

Even they were telling her to do it. could she really do it ifon gates just kill him you know you want to she lifted her head again to her surprise she saw all the inmates back where they were hurled in the corners of their cells they were no longer staring at her no longer gripping their cell bars they didn't speak and made only quiet animalistic noises confused she shook her head had she really imagined that whole episode. If she had, it meant something. Even her subconscious mind was telling her to get rid of him.

No, it was telling her more than just that. It was trying to say that once Allman was gone, everything would be hers. And she would be the one to drive him out. Only she could kill him and claim all. She'd think about it later, as it seemed like a risky but viable option. Stepping off the stool, she clicked open

the battery compartment of the camera and bent down to select a few replacements. To her horror, there were no old batteries in the compartment. There was nothing. It was empty. That meant someone must have deliberately taken them out, but no employee would have done that. She looked up again, and this time the inmates were growling suspiciously loudly. She walked a few steps further into the centre of the chamber, where they stared at her intently. It was then that she noticed each of her. the inmate's cell locks were positioned at a slightly strange angle she couldn't help seeing it because it seemed odd it was as if the lot pads had been turned upside down and then she realized that they

had been broken the inmates growling rose in volume suddenly one of them jumped out of his cell prompting the others to escape too they launched themselves into the center of the room snarly and breathing heavily, crawling on all fours like wild beasts. Each opened his mouth wide open and spit dribbled from their chins. Then they started advancing slowly towards her. Security, security, she shrieked, watching their hungry eyes glowing in anticipation. They attacked her and she screamed. The camera fell out of her hands and onto the floor, shattering into many pieces. The inmates mourned. her and ripped at her flesh with their teeth, chewing off chunks of her face and arms.

She flailed around madly in pain and they continued to crawl around her and bite into her limbs. Help me! Her screams were muffled. Five guards dashed into the chamber, followed by Orman and the bald scientist. Blood covered everything in sight, and even the brightest parts of Gates' white coat had been stained a painful shade of pink. Security dragged the inmates off of her, throwing them back into their cells. They tried to jump back out, but they were tranquilized, and soon all three of them fell into a deep sleep. She felt herself being lifted into a stretcher and carried away. The last thing she saw before she passed out was her left hand,

which was now no more than a gloopy red mass of flesh, skin and bone. Ormond shook his head, gazing disappointedly. the blood splatters in the middle of the room. What a shame. The HQ really does need to order some new locks, doesn't it, Jackson? The board scientist died him suspiciously. You seem calm, boss. Well, one does need to be calm in situations like this. It's the only way you can get through life, you know. They don't call me headquarters boss for nothing. He walked over to the pile of batteries and the shattered pieces of camera. He picked up two of the plastic pieces

which he fit together like a puzzle. Shame, he said again, turning it over and looking at the battery compartment. These things cost a fortune. He smiled, gazing down into the empty slots from which he had removed the batteries. Awoken. She opened her eyes again.

She set up to examine her surroundings and saw that spots of blood, had stained her pillow her wounds didn't seem to hurt much so she lifted the covers off herself she was wearing a light blue patient gown and her limbs and face were wrapped in bandages she unwrapped her facial bandages slightly and dragged her fingers across her face she was delighted that she felt only two stitches one down her left cheek and one in front of her ear at least the attack hadn't damage her face too much but her left hand was still a mess and underneath the bandages she could see that the top part of her thumb was missing.

She had a sharp pain in her shoulder, forcing her to lie back down. A nurse entered the room, bringing her a cup of coffee and some biscuits. Ah, Gates, you're awake. Do you remember what happened to you before you came here? Um, I... The door opened again, and Max Bridges stepped in. She groan silently to herself. He had a sly grin on his face, and his hands were behind his back.

As he walked closer to the bed, he took them out, revealing a bunch of flowers wrapped in pink, plastic paper. How are you, babe? Oh, that's sweet, she smiled, as he placed the flowers on the table beside her bed. He placed an unopened card on top of them, which read, yet well soon, on the front in large pink letters, above a picture of a teddy.

Now, can I have a kiss? Bridges. She sat up and pecked him on the lips. Gates and bridges, side the nurse. My perfect town has gates and bridges. Corny punts, mouth gates. I'll leave you two to it. The nurse then went out of the room.

Now, would you mind telling me what the hell happened to you? I can kind of remember it, but not too clearly, she began. I was going to change the batteries on the security camera in the place where I kept the test subjects. She paused. She wasn't sure whether she should tell him what had happened next in her mind, as of yet. No, she would skip that part. He nodded. I thought it was weird because broken cameras usually give the computer an alert,

telling you to replace the batteries. and nobody had known about this for ages until I asked about it. But then I found out the batteries weren't broken. There were no batteries. Someone had taken the batteries out and the CCTV images didn't get through to Jackson. I don't blame him because that's why he forgot to feed the test subjects. Yeah, I was thinking the cables were quite stable here, even if one broke you would send an alert message,

but not if someone deliberately took them out. Hmm. He paused and thought for a few seconds. I swear I saw Omen go in there once. He was by himself as well, and... What? The security guard always has to accompany a boss into the chamber. I mean, that's the rules. Yeah, exactly.

That's why I thought it was strange, but I just... Well, it was nothing, really. Well, it's something now, she laughed. It's something serious. I always knew it. Ormond was the one who took the batteries out. Hey, don't jump to conclusions. Don't question it.

No, it was him. He planned it all and he knew this shit would happen. She lowered her voice then. He knew Jackson would forget to feed them. Jackson was monitoring the security pictures. Well, he's old and a bit ditsy. If he didn't see the picture, he wouldn't question it. Oman knew that I'd be the one next to go in there.

That's why he loosened the locks on the cell. and they were able to jump out and attack me. Well, that's a sensible conclusion, I guess. Well, what then? Do you think all three of the inmates could have broken the locks themselves, taking the batteries out of the camera, and then had the sanity to hide back in their cells just to jump out of the last minute to bite me?

Who else would have done it? Who else hates me as much as Allman does? Yeah, okay, makes sense. But what do you want to do about that now? I honestly don't know. They looked at each other, their faces more tense than before. The door opened and Orman came into the room. She was surprised to see Bridges stand up and leave the room abruptly.

Miss Gates, how's it been? He almost jeered at her. Anger boiled up inside her and she felt like she wanted to knock his teeth out right there and then. But she resisted, keeping her face totally calm. professional. I appreciate your concern, Olman. I've been well, thanks. The recovery's been slow, but I've been well. He took out a small box of chocolates from his briefcase and put them onto the table, but no get-well card followed. Thank you. She smiled. I'm very grateful for all this, but it's really not needed. I see someone's already beat me to it, he said,

looking at the flowers Bridges had given her. Who is it from? Before she could stop him, he opened the card. Great, no Ormond knew about their relationship. He was bound to degrade Bridges too. She just hoped he wouldn't hate her for it. Who's BS? Bridges hadn't signed it with his full name, not even his initials.

She sighed in relief, reminding herself that he was smarter than he looked. That's my friend Beatrice Smith, she said, quickly making up a random name. She's working for the IS department in the Philippines. That was quite nice to receive her mail. Really? Never heard of her. Did she mail the flowers to you too? They look a bit too alive for that. She clenched her fists.

No, those were from the emergency department. Bull shit. What? A beat of sweat rolled down. her forehead his eyes seemed too narrow for safety he laughed the BS must stand for bullshit flowers are pretty bullshit too I mean look at them they're cheap all these people have absolutely no idea how to buy gifts I'll have to discipline my emergency department better next time of course God forbid there ever is a next

time he wore a jolly smile on his face she swallowed and her pulse Thanks for the chocolate, Olman. Really isn't necessary, but thank you so much. I'll enjoy them. He picked up his briefcase and walked towards the door, then turned back around. Oh, you will, won't you? Their professional quality. And then he disappeared. By right, she gritted her teeth and sliced the cardboard box open with her sharp red fingernails.

Her conclusion seemed to make sense. this was a man who'd planned to kill her in fear of his position being stolen now there was an obvious sense of conflict between them she knew the fight to become headquarters boss had begun she wasn't going to lose to him she picked up a finger-shaped chocolate and cracked it open there was a strange yellow paste inside it which smelled odd she licked it and spluttered because it tasted slightly bitter her heart skipped a beat as she realized he'd tried to do it once more, and noted the fact that he hadn't attached a card so she couldn't frame him for murder. She swept her arm across the front of the table, shoving the whole box

and its contents into the bit. The sign. Gates sat in the experiment chamber all alone. In front of her was the first lethal creation of Harvey Seidon, the deadly angel's wings. She stood up, then walked over to it. Her high heels created. loud echoing footsteps which filled the entire chamber as she walked she ran a finger down the undersides of the two flat iron bars which met in the middle where the subject's chest would be the sharp iron spikes pierced her skin and she licked the blood away hello gates a familiar but unknown voice called her name she turned around but nobody was there no not the voices again

Who the fuck is this? Do you remember me? She recoiled in shock. Harvey, Jack, Sighton stood behind her on the other side of the angel's wings. Sighton? she shouted. How are you? I thought you were dead. Yes, I'm afraid I was too, but I came back to warn you.

Warn me? About what? By replacing me, you're walking into a... a deadly trap. Before she could move, she found herself entrapped between hollow metal bars, the angel's wings. How had she ended up in there? She didn't even remember herself getting up. Struggling to free herself, she resisted the iron bars. Suddenly, Cytton lowered the spikes, and she screamed as they dug into her body. Blood oozed out onto her white coat and dripped down her legs. Just then she saw Ceyton's hand.

on the lever. No, don't do it. Have mercy, she shrieked with all her mind. Sighton, I used to work for you. You're the original, I'm the replacement. You're the real one. I'm the fake one. Don't do it, please.

Don't do it. He ignored her desperate pleas and pulled it down. The machine began to work ripping her torso open from the middle. The pain was unbearable, and she screamed even more loudly. Gates, this is what will happen if you continue to sit idly and watch. You will die, said Seidon, holding a calm look on his face as he usually had when he was alive. It's either you or him. You've seen him try to do it twice already.

You've got to do it. Save yourself why you can. You can get everything. Just kill him. You know you want to do it. You know it. it was telling her to do it again the voices had returned she pushed against her restraints trying to cover her ears she recognized that familiar line it wasn't the real sight of talking to her she was just imagining the whole thing relieved she realized she wasn't really going to die and the pain stopped abruptly she woke up dazed in a cold sweat the vivid image of the angel's wings was so

real it was hard to believe it had just been a dream but no it wasn't just a dream it was telling her something allman was paranoid of her stealing his title and he'd stop at nothing to get rid of her she'd originally wanted to wait a little longer before doing it now it'd become clear that only one of them could be boss and the other one would end up dead this dream was a sign she had to take action quickly before it was too late sitting up she grabbed her cell phone from the desk can tapped in a number. Bridges? Which wing are you in? Is this Gates? Geez, it's early. You finally want to hook up. Bridges, I have no time for chit-chat. It's two in the morning, so there shouldn't be security outside your wing. She looked out of the window. The coast is clear, too.

Can you meet me in room SP 56 in five minutes? For what? I've got serious business to talk about. Sure thing, babe. SP 56, is that right? Yes, and be careful. The pact. The dim light flickered intermittently. What the hell is this all about gates? I just had a dream. In the dream, Satan came back and told me I had to get rid of him or else I'd die. Just listen to what I'm saying.

It's either me or almond. He's trying to kill me. Is he really? Bridges raised an eyebrow. Don't you just want to murder him so you can become the headquarters boss? He spoke the truth, though. She couldn't admit that. No, I'm saying he's overly obsessed with getting kicked out by the boss. He doesn't want me to replace him like I did with Seidon.

That's why he's trying to kill me, like he did back then with a security camera issue. You figured this all out based on a dream? Are you playing with me? No, whether you believe it or not, I don't. heard voices. They told me to do it. They were always there, but then they weren't a minute later. I don't know what's going on, but from what I know, it's certainly time. She looked into his eyes and walked closer to him. Don't she love me, Bridges? That's either me or him. Choose. Of course I love you, honey. But what do you want me to do about it?

You idiot, Bridges, I'm asking you to kill him for me. Baby, he began. I know it's hard to understand, but I don't do good work for free. How much are you planning to give me? When he's dead, I'll be your boss. I'll pay you double and triple your current salary. That should be enough to satisfy you. Think about it.

Three times what you get now. What could you do with all that money? Honey, make it four, then I'll do it. She frowned. three's the maximum well then I'm afraid I can't do it it's either one or three

which would you prefer but it's a big risk you know I might get caught his voice was dripping with sarcasm and she groaned all right make it fall yeah that's more like it babe how about tomorrow night

after I find some way to get past security I'll crawl into his room and shoot him with his own girl No, you can't do that. He keeps his gun in his jacket all the time, even when he's sleeping. Why don't you use your own gun? You science guys still have a lot to learn about hitmanship. The bullets of each gun are unique, so each kill can be identified and, well, the killer

rewarded. But in this case, it will be rewarded with torture and execution, I suppose. I could stab him, and put the knife in his hand. That'd be the easiest way. Then they question why he didn't use his gun. It seems overcomplicated. Hey, give me a day to think of something sensible, okay. I'm the bringer of death.

I know how to deal with these things. You, they only call the captain the bringer of death. Wait, you're the hitman captain now. Never told me that. Suddenly his face went pale. What? she asked. What's the matter? He looked at her again, then his natural face returned, the slightly sardonic smile.

Yes, I am. Captain Bridges, Deathbringer. Does that make me hotter or creepier? Hmm, both, but I like it. I always thought you were just a normal contract killer. You never told me. Looks like I underestimated you. The captain of the hitman was third in line to headquarters boss, after head-reed researcher. That's good, babe, so do you trust me with this? Yeah, but you need to be careful. Oh, security is a piece of cake. There's no way they can catch a contract killer. He looked into her eyes and touched her face. How do I know you trust me? What do you mean? I can kiss you again if you like. No, although that would be nice. You looked at her bracelets.

It was thin, made of silver, and had a pink flower on it. Do you wear that bracelet often? he asked. I always wear it everywhere, along with my watch. Then if you trust me, give it to me. She looked at him strangely. Why are you asking me for... Because only that way I know I can trust you. She took it off and gave it to him.

He put it in his pocket and ran a finger down the scar on her cheek. And then he kissed her. And also, he continued, one more thing. I need the head of your next subject. Why is that? Let's just say I don't exactly want him screaming my name out loud before he dies. And in case someone sees me. I don't know where you're going with that, but fine, whatever you want.

I'm killing off one tomorrow morning and I'll deliver it to you before noon. That's good. Be careful, Bridges. She whispered. You too, babe. SB 41. Orman sat in his cubicle and yawned. 2.34 a.m. read his digital clock.

It was time for a nap, although he knew it wouldn't be long before it was time to get to work again. There were too many damn things he needed to do. Being the headquarters boss took efforts. He wished he was the real boss, who didn't have to do shit, who could watch the dollars pouring in every second. He shut his cigarette in the bin and lifted himself off his chair.

He flicked the lights off and headed down the hallway to his room, SB 41. Once he locked the door, he sat comfortably on his bed and switched on his nightlight, lighting another cigarette. He turned on the television and browsed through the early morning programs. There weren't many interesting ones, so he turned to the news channel. Then he heard a sharp bump behind him. He saw nothing when he turned around, so he saw nothing. dismissed it. Nowhere could be safer than in his own bedroom, where the security camera sitting on his shelf watched everything that happened. Some would say that it's unnerving to feel watched

when you're sleeping, but if anything, it made him feel safer. Still, the noise had irritated him, as his room was usually completely silent, and he liked it that way. But something fallen. He shifted towards the other side of his bed, but stopped when he heard quiet shuffling coming from the wardrobe. That was unusual. He leaned over the lamp to open the door. Suddenly, a hand emerged from the wardrobe. He jumped back, however, before he could get away, someone wearing a grey sweater grabbed him by the neck and then covered his mouth. His muffled scream stopped when he looked upon the face of this ominous being. No, it wasn't human at all. He'd never seen anything like it before and he was so horrified he couldn't make a sound some creature of the night had found him it had two bulging eyes which protruded from two bloody sockets they were covered with veins and grew unevenly on its face the left eye too low almost on its cheek and the right too high sitting on its forehead its nose was crooked and too close to its lips which seemed fleshy and raw its mouth was permanently open revealing a set of human-like teeth

aligned in an unnaturally crooked way there was blood on its teeth and in its left hand was a giant blade the dim yellow nightlight cast disturbing shadows across its face where was security no one was coming to save him from it this man this creature grabbed his hair and threw him onto the floor face first swung its hatchet into his head multiple times and split open his torso the last thing he felt was the sharp edge begin to rip through his stomach the blade cut through his bone brains blood and intestines began to spill out of him and then onto the floor although his heart had stopped beating the fear he'd experienced in his last

moments was forever imprinted into his dead eyes the creature dropped the hatchet and stayed in the room for a few minutes then it escaped down the empty hallway Aftermouth. Five a.m. An alarm sounded and voices could be heard shouting in the hall. The headquarters bus is dead. Armand's been attacked. Quick, someone get help.

Gates yawned and opened her eyes. As soon as she heard it, she snapped back into consciousness and dressed herself, dabbling on her red lipstick and pulling her shiny blonde hair into a tight bun. She didn't bother to brush her teeth. A giant smile or so. spread across her face. It was absolutely brilliant. Her plan had worked and an orman was now dead. Everything belonged to her. The whole headquarters, the money, even the posh bedroom was now hers. This was what she'd imagined when she'd first joined the

ISS as a low-grade employee. Ifon Gates, the headquarters boss. If she continued at this rate, she'd soon end up the real boss if he died sometime, but she decided she wasn't going to rush this one, she'd take it easy with him. This was all thanks to Max Bridges. He was the man who'd made all her dreams come true. She really couldn't thank him enough, but the pay-rise just wasn't going to happen. She was his boss now. Her life started again here, and anything she'd said before wouldn't count. Furthermore, if he resisted, she could fire him with a snap of her fingers. Well, he still hadn't signed the contract. She ran as best to her. as she could in her high heels down the crowded corridor to room SB 41 where hordes of people

are gathered. Making a way to the front of the crowd, she peered in through the open door. Her smile faded, and her heart started racing. All she could see was blood and guts and a huge hatchet that had been left at the murder scene. Wait, that wasn't how it was meant to be. The murder was meant to be dressed like a suicide somehow, but this wasn't like that at all. Bridges had said he would have devised some sort of plan perhaps to get hold of Ormond's bullets somehow, but a hatchet. She needed to talk to Bridges desperately and ask him what was going on. This wasn't what they'd planned at all. She ran back down the hall and dialed his number on her private cell.

Hey there, this is Max Bridges at your service. I'm busy right now, but you can leave a message. She cursed, hanging up. this wasn't the time something was wrong suddenly two security guards grabbed her by the arms what the hell was this were they worried for her safety where are you taking me she demanded they ignored her and dragged her further down the hallway let go of me what do you think you're doing the boss himself has arrived at the murder scene he ordered us to do this they replied the boss why me

you were you taking me she repeated the execution chamber bringer of death she arrived in the chamber greeted by a set of stony faces every member of the headquarters branch was gathered here they stood organized in rank order and as the boss entered the room they bowed in unison gates too was pushed onto her knees before she could speak she lifted her head and searched the chamber nurses scientists hitmen bridges nowed at the front she recognized him even though he was wearing a suit she tried to catch his gaze but he continued to look at the floor we are here to witness began the boss the first death sentencing of an i ss offender in our organization we do not tolerate any misconduct the murder of a superior is punishable by torture and execution Yvonne Gates, do you confess to the offence you have committed? What? I didn't do anything, she screamed.

Let me go, boss, it wasn't me. I didn't murder him. We found this alongside the body. A guard held up a thin, silver bracelets. The pink flower on it was covered with dry blood. It was broken, making it appear as if it had been dropped by mistake. Everyone who knows Yvonne Gates has verified that this item belongs to her. I don't understand what you were planning, Gates. Didn't you consider the way you conducted that murder was a little obvious?

Or she panicked. Bridges had taken her trust and deliberately betrayed it. She couldn't believe it, but now she knew all the pieces seemed to fit together perfectly. Why had he chosen to use a hatchet? to blatantly show it was a murder. Furthermore, why had he done that? So he could frame her for doing it. And why had he wanted to frame her?

A sudden realization came upon her. Head researcher was always second in line to headquarters boss. The captain of the hitman was third. That's why he'd broken a sweat when he'd accidentally mentioned it. But she was too dazed to realize anything suspicious. By framing her for killing all, Allman, Max Bridges, had killed two birds with one stone. Now he was going to become the headquarters boss.

In fact, he had it planned out meticulously carefully from the beginning, as he'd seen his chance coming when she'd first asked him about Orman's behaviour. He'd always been ten steps ahead of her. She thought she'd been using him to get what she wanted for herself, but it turned out all this time he'd been using her. He had given her a chance. That time where he led his time. tongue slip when he accidentally mentioned that he was the captain of the hitman he'd never told her that

she always thought he was an ordinary contract killer employee until then and for good reason too is the only clue which could have led her to deduce that it wasn't as simple as it seemed more people were against her than she thought but she completely failed to notice it and she paid the ultimate price for that mistake her life it was max bridges she shrieked he said me up he took my bracelet and put it there he killed Orman it wasn't me it wasn't me boss I did know such thing Max Bridges stood up I'd known Yvonne Gates for some time before this happened but I had no idea she was gonna do something like that though there was clearly some tension between her and Boss Alman so I can't understand why it happened I was a

close acquaintance of Gates therefore I can also understand to some extent why she wanted to frame me, but I deny having anything to do with Allman's murder. It's a disgrace to the organization of the International Secret Service. Greed pays, doesn't it, Gates? Now, as it stands, you'll be the next headquarters boss when Gates has been executed, because you are the organizer of the contract killing system at the ISS headquarters. Is that right? Yes, that could have been another reason why Gates wished to accuse me of the murder.

He lifted his head now and looked straight at her, the corners of his lips curving into a threatening smile. She could never talk them out of it. His words were too smooth, too cunning. She wanted to burn him to leave him in the pits of hell to die in the worst way imaginable. She hated him even more than Ormond. But there was nothing she could do. She should have been smarter and gotten away from him while she still had the chance. After all, he was the bringer of death.

death, and she should have expected no less. She was silent, unable to make a comeback. The boss waved his hands, and the guards carried her further into the experiment chamber, which was now about to become the room in which she would die. She saw herself being carried towards the angel's wings, and she screamed and flailed. "'No, let this be a lesson to you all,' said the boss. The justice system in the ISS is much more efficient. We don't wait decades for a confession. Once the evidence has been collected, the accused is sentenced to death.

Gates, prepare yourself well. As you should know, the angel's wings are a torture device invented by your own mentor and previous head researcher, Harvey Jack Seidon. It is one of the slowest, most painful ways to die on the planet.

She was going to die in the angel's wings. It was the real thing now, it was no dream this was reality. Had you been a legendary genius like Seitan, he continued, we would have considered keeping you alive a while longer, but you are only a temporary replacement, so don't think too highly of yourself, Gates. They strapped her into the machine as the crowd watched in silence. Jackson pushed the button and the iron nails dug into her flesh. It'd be more painful than she'd expected. Jackson remembered how, nearly a year ago, they'd been investigating reports for Seiden side by side,

but he'd never expected that he'd ultimately be the one to end her, with Seiden's own invention. He shook his head and side, pulling the lever, and the screaming started. The end hadn't the security camera in Ormond's room called a thing? Jackson had been watching it on the very night he died, but all he saw was an empty room. But playing the tape again he saw the same thing and just assumed that he hadn't been having much luck with the cameras recently. He thought Orman was working a night shift in his cubicle, so there was nobody in SB 41 the whole night. He told himself to be more careful in the future. If he missed something important one day, he could be executed.

He removed the tape from the computer. That's when he noticed the security code was wrong, and it was missing one digit. it was a fake the camera had been replaced and the contents of the tape edited that was the reason why it caught nothing allowing ormond to be killed he reminded himself to be more careful in the future as he'd already signed the contract for life if he'd missed something important one day he would be executed of course swapping the camera what a smart idea it seemed like yvonne gates had been thinking ahead being the clever woman she was but a hatchet. There was something wrong with that. She would never make it so obvious, as the boss had mentioned before. Jackson sat in his cubicle with his head and his hands.

Max Bridges had recently been appointed new boss of the headquarters, but he couldn't help thinking there had been something fishy with his new promotion. He remembered Gates screaming his name in agony as she died, as if she wanted to use her last moments to keep accusing him of it. As of now, there was nobody with the title head researcher, and it made him glad, for he knew anyone with that title would eventually drive themselves insane. Opposite his cubicle was Max Bridge's room. He spotted something odd inside a large grey box, which had its lid half open. We tried to dismiss it as nothing, but he couldn't help thinking it looked something like human hair.

Nobody was around, so he quietly entered the room, approaching the box slowly. He'd seen this box in the room a few days ago, but Bridges had always kept it locked. It seemed like he'd forgotten to do that this time. He lifted the metal lid off the box, and a foul stench made him cough. He held his breath. When he looked down and saw what was inside it, he held in a silent scream. A severed human head, with his eyes gouged out, nose, lips and teeth removed. The skin had been scraped off its neck.

leaving it flesh-coloured. He recognised the bristly brown hair. It was the head of the last test subject. There was something else in the box, too. He moved the head aside and saw a white piece of plastic, shaped like a triangle, with a string joining one end to another loosely, like that of a mask.

He lifted it out of the box and turned it over. Suddenly he was overcome with a feeling of nausea. Human skin was glued to the other side of the plastic, in patches. The missing eyes from the severed head were glued onto the skin, but asymmetrically. The nose was glued in the middle, and the lips were also glued on along with the teeth. He noticed two tiny holes, one just above the left eye, which had been glued on very low down, and the other just below the right eye, which had been glued on too high. It was a mask.

An absurd creation. Well, he'd known some strange people during his time, working for the ISS, but never with a fetish as creepy as that of bridges. It seemed he enjoyed making artwork from bits of dead bodies. Looking around to check if anyone was there, he swallowed in disgust. Just as he was about to place the mask back in the box, something large and black caught his eye. A security camera? Where was that in here?

He lifted it out of the box and pressed the on button. It loaded, meaning it still had battery left. He saw the room label in the bottom right-hand corner. It was SB 41. He'd found the original security camera of Ormond's room, which had been removed by the killer. But why was it in Bridges' room? Wiping the dust and dry blood off of the tiny display screen, he went to the menu and clicked on the last video on the list.

It showed the time as... two-13 and 34 seconds, when it started filming automatically. His midnight break was from 2 a.m. to 2.30 a.m. When Ormond would usually go to bed, so he wouldn't have been watching it then. He skipped the tape to 2.14 and 9 seconds, when he saw the first signs of movement. Suspicious-looking man had entered Orman's room. It was the body of a man, definitely not a woman's figure. The man wore a grey sweater and had his back to the camera.

It looked like he was searching for something. A second later he turned towards the screen and Jackson nearly dropped the camera in shock. The man's face seemed inhuman and mutilated. His features were twisted and grotesque. The man saw the camera then quickly advanced towards it. He realised that it wasn't the man's face. No, he was wearing a mask. the same as the mask in the box.

The man saw the camera and rushed towards it in the space of around three seconds, and the tape ended in static when his face was closest against the camera. He'd detached the camera, allowing Orman to be murdered later. The mask the man was wearing in the video was the same as the mask in the box. It must have been Max Bridges who'd detached the camera and murdered Orman, At least if he hadn't committed the actual murder, then he definitely had something to do with it. The box contained all the evidence that was needed to link him to the murder, and he must have gathered it here, planning to take it out when nobody was looking and possibly burning it. Oh, Jackson, said a voice behind him.

He dropped the camera back into the box and turned around, his heart in his mouth. Bridges walked towards him and closed the door. Having fun looking through that pile of old rubbish. Oh, I apologize for ending your room without permission, boss. Fair enough. Fair understand. Bridges smiled down at him, his eyes narrowing. But this box is full of evidence, which says that he had a part to play in Ormond's murder.

Wasn't just Gates. Jackson took a second to cough. I'll inform you, Max Bridges, that if the boss sees this evidence, it'd be enough to convict you of my... murder. As soon as it came out of his mouth, he regretted saying it. Now Bridges knew he'd seen the security footage. Well, he wished he could take it back, but it was too late. And I'll inform you, Jackson, that the execution chamber is right behind you. The strange cases of a Philadelphia cop. Hey guys, so I've decided to put some of my weirdest cases out there for the world to see.

The goal? To show you just how weird and curious the world you live in truly is. I'm going to start with my weirdest one yet. I'll say one thing. Keep five bucks on you at all times. You'll see what I mean. A ten spot might be even better, though. Right.

Let's begin with The House. My name's Dan Josephson, and I've been a cop in Philadelphia for about four years now. I thoroughly enjoy my job, but in a year of three hundred and six years. 65 days, 90% of those are pretty great. But at least once or twice a year, there's some strangeness I'm involved in. Didn't always used to be like this. Well, up until a couple of years ago, I'd never once believed in anything supernatural. Maybe I shouldn't say supernatural, because that's not what she called it.

She told me after she'd saved me from a dogman hybrid thing. That, if it exists, then it's natural. If it flies, it's natural, even if I can't see that its wings are visible. If it walks, it's natural. If you could test it, it's a natural thing, no matter how weird it seemed. Two years ago she saved me from one of those natural things, as it tried to eat me to death. She explained to me that she wasn't some Buffy the Vampire-Slayer type. I just happened to get lucky that she was in the area.

But that it worked out for the best because she needed somebody on the police force to be aware of what was going on in Phil. so I called my chief and a few other superiors. She needed to show them the underbelly of the city. Well, the whole world. It took one showing to get them to believe her. But this sucked for me, though, as whenever weird shit happened, they called me, and I had to call her if she was in town, which she often wasn't. The thing that gave me a bit of a leg up was her burning a mark on my upper arm.

It gave me some protection from the shitty. things in the dark, sometimes in the light. We worked together on a few cases, including one where she lost a friend and needed to set things right. I asked her, well, if she wasn't a buffy type, what exactly did she do? She said in a matter-of-fact way that she did three things, collected, and erased things. It was safer if I didn't know the rest. Now I needed her for all those functions. For the past month there had been a series of people going missing from the overbrook area of town. People going missing in a city this large isn't new, but all going missing on the same block was weird. It was all around a single house on Woodbine, near 66.

The first was a kid on the way home from school. Neighbors said the kid went in after being asked to come and help a lady on the floor. The next was a painter who'd been called for a job, A plumber to fix a leak in the basement, a window-replaceer to fix several cracked window-panes, a couple of men who went through the home's yard and never came out the back. There were several others, and it caught the attention of the local media. As it closed in on Halloween, the incidents ticked up. There was something odd about the house on Woodbine. Most homes in Philly are rowhouse types, where each home is basically a townhouse or brownstone.

But in some of the newer or less population dense areas, some places have the standard house types. Large front and backyards built on city blocks. I haven't worked a Halloween in three years. That was my day. Halloween was my Christmas. I appreciated being on call instead of on duty. So if I was called, then it had to be important. I made it to the house and decided to look around as the neighbours looked on as people got ready for trick or treating.

The chief didn't want anybody going near that house tonight and not coming back out. It was a decent looking place, large porch, gabled overhangs, gothic pillars, large pained windows, all the usual. Nothing looked off about the place. But as I got out of my cruiser and got closer, my upper arm felt hot. When I backed away it cooled again. I walked closer and the heat returned. I rolled up my sleeves to check, and I watched the mark like. up as I neared the home. Okay, this place looked normal, but obviously wasn't. She'd always told me that when that thing tried to eat me, I had the taint now, which meant that if I somehow survived with help or on my own, others like it and her could smell it on people like me. It was like a pheromone. Something might not happen ever, or something could if it felt like it. But her mark would not only alert me to others like her.

but also protect me from those things. I picked up the police tape and cordon off the house, and then I grabbed myself. Hey, Dan, what's up? Abby, I think about a haunted house. You interested? I asked. And without missing a beat, sure, give me the address and I'll head over.

Well, relief washed over me. But as I looked at the house again, I swear the two front windows glowered at me in anger. Now I will continue with a very strange friend of mine. Abigail. I waited for Abigail. She lived near the uni, the University of Penn College, so it took her a while to get my side with the traffic.

She also told me she had to pick up some weird chick. Well, Abby's weird, so I have no idea how weird this other chick was going to be. As the sun began to go down, I noticed the house's glowering gaze seemed to follow me as I moved around the tape. Like the people noticing me didn't seem to notice anything strange. I think that's how the house was able to convince people it was safe. It just looked like a damn house, nothing creepy or odd, just a house. Imagine a mailman delivering a package.

She knocks on the door and his, Come on in, you can leave the package on the table. And then it's by-bye mailman, at least that's how I see it. Abby eventually pulled up in her car with the other chick that she'd called weird. She looked okay to me, nothing overly strange. She wasn't some weird goth or trippy-girl. She just had on jeans, a white shirt, and a light jacket underneath. Hey, Abby, what's up?

Took you a while to get here. Traffic bad? I asked her. No, Michelle here thinks she's still sleeping, and this is all a dream. so I had to convince her to wake up and go to the bathroom, put some clothes on. Michelle, this is Dan, Michelle. Abby said to me, she sat on the car's hood. I noticed that I could be the cat that she always talked about. It's never a good thing to look at, honestly,

and then I noticed what could be the cat that she was always talking about. Well, it was never a good thing to look at, honestly. half fur with a half skull head and the ribs of its guts sticking out i shuddered whenever i saw it but cat that was her cat's name was never aggressive and seemed to be a feline version of the girl michel just here and bored looking hey michel i'm dan i said as she took my hand and shook it hi dan question will you be horning my dreams too she asked with sincerity Probably not I don't think this is a dream Not me The cat thing or this neighborhood

But if it helps you I'm okay with that I told her Cool beans So what's going on here She asked That's when Abby stepped forward So

What's up You guys think this house is legit haunted She asked me Yeah There's been at least ten people seen in or around this place and never seen again, just missing nothing else. No blood, no guts, no crime, just, gone, I said, doing the explosion thing with my hands. Hmm, she said, looking at the house.

Michelle, you notice anything odd about the place? Abby asked her. I can't lie, Michelle was cute. I have a thing for Awquafina, and she reminded me of her, just taller. Michelle walked forward and under the tape. She went to the front of the house and stared for a few minutes. The cat thing went next to her, wagging its tail. To your apprentice or something. Is she going to be the next you? I asked.

No, I was asked to find her and take her with me on a few assignments, but I have no idea what the people I work for want with her. So I make sure I show her the ropes just in case. It's just weird how she thinks this is a dream. I guess it's her way to cope with all the shit she's seen so far. Abigail shrugged. Michelle checked down the alley, then back to the front. Finally she nodded her head and walked back to us as Abby crossed her arms, waiting for the report. I don't think it's harded.

I think it's possessed, maybe. Michelle said as the cat thing jumped on the car's hood and sat next to Abby. How so? Well, the windows on the front porch just frowned of me. And towards the bottom, the lights inside seemed to glow to a pinch and then relax. When I looked in the alley, the bay window sort of wiggled like an ear twitch. An ear twitch? On a house?

I said incredulously. Yep, Michelle said, adding, I noticed the base of the house kind of shift a bit when I leaned in. Kind of like you wanted to bend in on me. Good job, Michelle. Abby said, I need you to go to the alley and keep an eye on the bay window for me. Cat, I need you to go to the other side of the house and keep an eye out on the other window. Anything I can do to help? I asked her.

Stay behind the police tape, Abby said with a giggle. So, what's the plan? If the house is possessed, should we call a priest or a shaman or something? Oh, damn, they wouldn't be able to help. Probably just get killed feeding this thing. Abby said, stretching. Okay, so, um, again, what's the plan? I'm going to go knock on the front door, see what happens.

Then I'll check the handle. If it's locked, I'm breaking in. If it's not, I'm walking in. They'll close the door and wait. She said, watching her two companions walk around to the sides of the house. Well, you're an ardent curious girl, Ms. Mitchell. You're a pretty damn weird, too, I stated. emphatically with a smile. She smiled in return and walked up to the house, and that's when I noticed a few

people forming near the police thing. I had a couple of stragglers here and there asking what was happening. Given Philadelphia's history, they were probably expecting a bomb to get dropped or something, but I just told them to stand back and get out of the way. Abigail walked up to the door and then turned to look at me. She smiled, and I noticed her eyes had that fiery amber glow to them. She was smiling, but she took this seriously. She not once. Nothing. She waited and not to get.

Nothing. And I heard a click. Abby's head dropped, and she shook it side to side. I watched as she grabbed the handle and put her hand on the door. Then I heard a snap and a crack. The house's windows seemed to widen as if in shock. And then Abby walked into the house. And then the craziest shit happened.

You know how when you go to a restaurant or a fast food spot, you order your food and sit down to eat it? It tastes good, but it just doesn't sit right. You drink something hoping it goes down, but it doesn't. Your body heaves a little, your eyes flicker or widen, as you feel the bile rising, the vomit coming. And then the explosion happens. while Abigail was in the house for maybe 30 or 40 seconds tops the door flew open and Abigail came flying out of the house over the pavement and onto the streets

holy shit I cried out as I watched her fly over me and land on the street hard she rolled over a couple of times and stopped on her back arms played out to her sides I rushed over to her as the cat thing and Michelle looked but stayed where they were as a little bit of a couple of times as a little bit of got closer she coughed as the crowd grew and people looked on then i heard a giggle and then a laugh she sat up and shook her head dude you're all right what the hell was that i asked her as i helped her to stand i'm good she said laughing some more what's so funny you just got kicked out of a house by the house the house isn't just a house isn't just a house the house is the guardian that's another being in there she said walking back towards the house the house didn't even try to hide its surprise and its anger was palpable i turned a bit away and the crowd scattered some as they all noticed the house's slight movements where are you going i asked her to kill it she shouted back as she reached for the door kill what i asked with genuine surprise the house silly

Now, Abigail is different from us, but let's continue on, you'll see. Hey, um, before you go in there, can I ask? How do you kill a house? Abby responded. Well, um, kind of, yeah, I mean, the only two ways I know to kill a house is to wreck it or burn it down, and I shrugged confusedly. Well, we won't be doing that to this house, Abby stated. She then stood in front of the house and looked at it and motioned me over. I take it you've seen a horror movie or two in your life, Abby asked, waiting for my answer. Yeah, I've seen a few, why?

You know how at the end of the movie, and the heroes think they've tripped, and the movie ends with either the house reforming later, or the monster laughs, or some silly shit like that? I nodded. The first house I killed did that before I knew what to do to start. I went in, did what I had to, and then five years later it came back. Well, the only reason I even thought about it wasn't a missing persons report or a news article. I was driving to the store one day and went to another part of town and saw the house again, she said, putting her hands on her hips.

I spoke to people who'd been doing this longer than I had, and they called them rebounders. That's when a house is excised or destroyed, but the people who did the deed never. do a full cleanup or follow-up, she told me. So, um, when you kill this house guardian thing, then what? We kill the bitch on the inside using the house to make a profit, Abby said, turning to Michelle in the cat. Dan, call your cop friends to lock this neighborhood down. Just make up a lie or whatever.

This is Philly. I mean, there are gas leaks here all the time. Still confused, I did as she asked, and with interest. 25 minutes we had the house cordoned off even further and the neighbourhood evacuated fully. I watched as Abby spoke to her little crew of, um, not monster hunters. When they were done, she came back to me. Dan, I need another favour from you, she said. What now? I asked in return. Can you get me five bucks from the ATM while I go back in? I can get ten. That's the minimum.

Cool. Okay, go grab it real quick. I ran across the street and found the ATM and kept looking back the entire time. I didn't see Abigail anymore. She must have gone back inside the house. I pulled out my card and hastily inserted it. I tried to hurry quickly when I heard the shattering of glass and the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. I turned, quickly placing my hand on the gun at my hip. There was a lazy boy on the ground and one of the front wheels.

windows was shattered. I heard my money coming out as I saw pots and the TV come flying out of the house from a variety of windows. Michelle, great the windows. I heard Abby yell from inside the place. The young woman picked up rocks and tossed them at the windows. A couple of the bay windows broke as she moved about desperately. I grabbed my money and ran back to the house. The house seemed to grimace as each window shattered. And then Abby came to. And then Abby came flying out of the house again get out of my house came a ghastly scratchy female voice my pause as that voice hit my very soul it sounded wrong so wrong my skin crawled even the dogman thing didn't sound this bad i could see the other cop shuddering we all kind of looked away from

the house not wanting to draw the attention of whatever was in there i felt like a child being punished for something I hadn't done. Oh fuck, Abby caught out as she got up and ran back into the house. Abby, I caught out. I noticed that the Cadd and Michelle hadn't moved from their positions, well, outside of trying to break the windows. The voice called out again. I think we all heard it this time, as it was louder and even more angered. Why must you bother me? What have I done to you? This is my neighborhood. The voice spoke. Not to us. but to Abigail. I assume Abigail must have been talking to her, but we just couldn't hear her. No, you will not. I've lived here for years. These people know me.

A crash came again in a squeal-like cry of pain. Leave it be, damn you, the voice cried. How dear... I heard as the wall exploded and the stove came out of it. Take that, you bitch. It heard Abigail call right before she was shoved from the house again, but this time without as much force. She stood and climbed back inside. I moved to look at the walls opening, and that's when I noticed that all of the furniture and items from the home were leaking, even the things that shouldn't leak.

No, not leaking. It was bleeding. Well, not blood, not like ours, but some oily ikor. It was coming from everything. I mean everything she tossed out bled. I put on my gloves and fell at the couch. It was soft, organic. Was this stuff alive?

It was the guardian and actual thing. She was killing the house, one organ at a time. I guess that what you put in your home made it a living thing, your pictures, furniture, food and even those you invite in. They all helped to make the house a living organ. but whatever was in this house was truly alive not metaphorically but real the cry came weaker as Abigail ripped out its inside in the cool evening air as the house seemed to lurch to the side I could see the walls breaking and bending allowing me to see inside I could see what looked like tentacles writhing from the ceiling trying to hit Abigail two of the things try to shout Abigail else

as she held the walls stopping their push. She turned to look outside for a split second. Dear God, she looked terrifying. Her eyes, that deep, fiery amber they were when she'd saved me. Well, they'd scared me then and they scared me now. Her veins passing like lava beneath her skin and now the smell of something cooking and her hands glowing orange-red. She grimaced and poured herself back in as the

tentacles flopped to the ground, seemingly dead. I hadn't noticed it before, but within the house I could see her marks burned into the walls and the ceilings and the doors. A human whore, you've killed it. You've killed my home, my home. The voice came again. The house lurched to the side and the cat moved back something, sat down and looked up. It came a crunch and explosion of wood on the roof. I could see a figure on the roof. I could see a figure on the roof now. Some of the other cops followed my gaze as I looked up. On that roof was a terrible horror. A woman hunched, tall, with scraggly clothes and sagging breasts. Her eyes were pinpoints of red. Her arms were long, too long for her body. And she moved slowly and weased.

She reached back into the home and pulled out a large bowl-like thing, complaining to herself itself the whole time. Crazy bitch, human bitch. You take my home? I take you. She plunged her arm inside the giant pot and swelled it around. A few of the cops poured their firearms and aimed at the thing. No, wait, let Abigail handle this.

This is her call, I called out. They looked at me and then at each other. But they did lower their weapons. I had no idea how this thing would react. I mean, we were not Abigail. As the witch thing on the roof swirled, Abigail called from the second floor window where she climbed out onto the roof.

Dan, I looked to see her eyes back to normal. Did you get the money? Um, yeah, I called back. Good. She smiled at me, climbing up to the upper roof like a damn spider. She went right after the giant pot and stuck her arm inside and then elbowed the witch creature. You will die, and they will die. She pointed down to us, and I shuddered as she looked my way.

Nobody's going to die except you in this damn house, I heard Abigail call. Oh, I'm done here, done, done with you, with them. The flash fire will consume this house and you. You've made a forever enemy in me, human. I'll come again. I'll take you home, and then you're alive. The witch growled as she poured some flaming liquid from her pot and slammed it onto the house. The house screamed as though wood could give voice to its anguish as the flames and liquid coated it.

Shit, I heard Abigail call out as she jumped off the roof. The house screamed and died in mystical flames. It began to dissipate as though it was dissolving into its. base parts. Abigail then smiled. The house vanished in the puff of anguish and smoke, and the lot was empty of the house, and the witch-thing had fled beneath the house as it collapsed in on itself. Well, you did it. Do I want to know what you were doing inside that house? Abby shook her head. We're not finished yet, she said quietly, as she pulled three sticks from behind her back. "'What's that?' I asked, pointing at the bundles.

"'She lifted the sticks, looking at me, and smiled. "'You and me, my good man. "'We're going to take a trip to hell. "'Do you still have that five bucks on you?' "'I looked down, my hands shaking. "'I hadn't even noticed it. "'Then I pulled out the ten-dollar bill. "'Oh, damn, look at you, Rich Boy.'

"'Abego smiled, then place the sticks on the ground, breaking them, forming a crude circle. Then another, and another, and another, and so on, until she had six. They looked like a planet with moons stretching into the distance. Confused still, I replied after a few moments. It's ten bucks. You'll see, she said, wiping the gore from her arm and the blood from her elbows. She mixed them, then tossed the wet stuff into the air.

It landed in the first circle, then moved to the third one, then back to the first. Oh, thank goodness, Abigail said. Okay, buddy boy, time to go, she said to me, smearing my forehead with a foul-smelling gunk. Get, you and Michelle stay here. Hopefully this won't, well, I'll be back eventually. One thing I can say about you, Abigail, is that you make my dreams entertaining. Michelle said, clasping her shoulder. Whatever, Abby said, shaking her head.

She pulled me close and then we jumped onto the impossibly small circle and then... Thunder. So, yeah, that happened. You're going to be wondering why I haven't gone insane yet, and if this case is weird, what are the other going to be like? Well, listen on, my friend. My head rang as I roll on the ground, trying to gather my thoughts. The sound of thunder filled my ears.

Ah, there was so much thunder, and it was loud. It was so loud. I could feel the pressure on my skin, and as the pressure from each boom pressed upon my chest, I moaned as my stomach revolted against today's lunch. I clutched at the dirt, struggling to open my eyes, and then I puked. The empty sensation made me feel better, but not by much.

Better. I also felt a wave of intense anger creeping over me. I don't know why, but it was so intense and seemed to rise with each passing moment. It was insidious, filling me like a tub filling with water. As I opened my eyes, I saw the subject of my ire. The intense red of my vision didn't help, and my teeth clenched as she looked at me and walked over. She knelt in front of me as I scowled at her, and then she slapped me. Oh, what hell was that for? I asked, noticing the anger subside, but my vision remaining red.

I know that look. It's the same look I had for a while when I was abandoned here. It creeps in and everything pisses you off. I mean, everything. But once you know that it's this place that makes you angry, it's hold less than somewhat, she told me, standing up and turning away from me. And, um, where is here? I asked. Then immediately grew quiet as the immensity of the situation hit me. That thunder was still booming. Oh, dear God, where are we? I asked, as I realized it wasn't my vision that was red. Everything was tinged in reds, blacks, and grays. The environment itself, even the sky was red. Then I noticed what inhabited the sky.

Now, imagine if the moon wasn't millions of miles away, but maybe just one hundred. Then there was another moon, and another, and another, and so on. What the hell? A hell, one of many, and my former home, for a year at least, Abigail stated, matter of fatly, as she placed her hands on her hips. Then she turned to me, and that smile returned. Her eyes had the amber glow again. Welcome to Tartarus, Cassidy or Hell.

It's not Hades, though, no, not Hades. Hades is a lot grayer. Tartarus, mythological Tartarus, I asked, bewildered. The anger resuming again. My eyes felt the pressure as it came again, but much more slowly, now that I was aware. Cult-training was kicking in. Tartarus doesn't exist. He can't, I said, as a thought.

thunder boomed. I mean, if this place exists, then. Dude, Abigail turned to look at me, hands on hips, and her head tilted to the side with twisted lips. My eyes glow. I saved you from a dogman, and you and your cop bodies just watch me kill a house, a house, and I pulled you into a pool of blood and we went straight to one of the hell dimensions. Well, I kind of just shrugged and apologized. I walked over to her and stood at her side and looked out over the place the best way to describe this place was like a bog what is a bog wetlands area the ground is wet and soft with an accumulation of peat and other dead plant matter i had a feeling this stuff below me was more than just dead plant matter i was in hell why would the stuff here be made of the stuff from earth

Abigail What's this stuff made of? It looks like a bog with trees and stuff I began before she interrupted me Well, that's because it is a bog with trees and stuff She said with that Abigail smirk I noticed her eyes hadn't stopped glowing since we'd been here I wanted to ask but she'd most likely give me a smart-ass remark or something

I knew she took this stuff seriously but there always seemed to be mirth and merriment in the way went about things I've never seen her type in her film before that's for certain watch your feet Dan this muck will suck you in quick if you're not paying attention also watch the skies and your back and the ground and the trees she told me and i thought about what she'd say it'd be something like oh because you're in hell then we walk for a bit as we moved away from anything that remotely looked like liquid she said during her time here whenever she She drank the stinking mess. She'd make a cup, run down and grab some, then run away.

She said she'd almost been pulled under once, but she burned the thing's tentacles off. As we passed a dark pool of liquid, I swore I could see something beneath glaring at me. I saw there were multiple sets of shiny black eyes beneath the water. I reached forward to grab Abigail and warn her. Just keep walking, Dan. If they'll leave the water, we run, you hear me?

I nodded as we picked up the pace. A few minutes later we cleared a large section of trees and asked why there were no sounds outside of water slapping the ground now and then. No birds, insects or even devilish things. She told me that nothing here wanted to be eaten by anything else. Hell had ecology just like every other world. I nodded, because, well, even though I could breathe, it was like taking in a lungful of rotten eggs with each breath. We reached an outcropping of stones and Abigail peered over into the distance of the distance of the, the hellscape jagged outcroppings of hills and deep valleys lay before me it was kind of like standing at the top of a

large hill and looking out into a valley but in that valley you could see smoke rising from various places like from a house or a hut there were the eerie sounds of beasts better left unseen and unmet and the skies came alive as a large winged thing flew above at a distance Abigail Well, look, I know this is your thing, but how are we supposed to find her in all of this? Bogs, woods, hills, and no trail in sight, I asked curiously. Haven't you noticed my eyes since we've been here? She brought it. Yeah, I did.

I'm following her the way people who roam places like this follow each other and other things. Her hellish stink is peculiar to her, and I've bound both me and you to that stench. It's not a smell, but, well, her aura. She passed by here not more than a day ago. That was a day ago. You just jump through that pool thing. Not more than five hours ago. And then I answer the question myself, seemingly catching on.

So, um, time moves a bit differently here, then. Abigail nodded and then added, The way this works is that you only ever use maps in a place like this, once you're inside a building or a structure, because those don't change, unless the barmey inside said structure can change it on a whim. We walked over to a clearing, and she grabbed a stick, and then drew a square on the ground and random shapes to represent places. Okay, this is us, she said, pointing to two stick figures.

This is the home of Duchess Serafina, the vile Duchess of Death, or some shit, and for whatever dumb reason you have business with her. you walk in this direction and think of her, you'll get there. If you get turned around and wind up walking back the way you came, but she's in your thoughts, you'll still get there. Distance doesn't matter in places like this. If you want to get somewhere, you'll get there. I think I understood somewhat now.

In a place like this, you have to throw out what you know and just accept things the way they are and try to influence it in some way to your benefit. I smiled and nodded at her. I used to be a scout so travelling and learning things about it wasn't very difficult. See those twin spires over there in the far distance? It was hard to make out anything in this red haze, but she used to live here, so it's something she's used to. Yeah, I see it.

Well, that's where she's headed. We can beat her there as long as you have that money still. I do, but it's just ten bucks. I mean, what's the big deal about it? Come on. There's a river not far from here, and it will take us to those spots. It was about an hour of sneaking and moving about slowly and quietly to avoid being seen by the creatures here. We did run into another human woman, but she wasn't in the mood to chat.

I didn't want to chat anyway. She had no eyes, but I could tell she was still watching us. Abigail forbid me to even think about speaking to anything here. Speak to nothing here. Let me do the talking. Whether it's alive or dead, you can't trust anything from this place. You hear me? She said, with all seriousness.

Abigail was equipped to handle a place like this, and I wasn't. But it didn't stop me from saying something stupid. You're from here, I said, regretting it immediately. I'm from South West Philly Den. I just got stuck here for a bit, she said, with no sign of her, tore pain from my words. Well, this was her business. People probably said stupid things to her all the time.

We arrived at the sight of the stinking thing and all about us was a sound of wailing and sorrow. I could sense deep anguish overriding the anger that was still in me from this place. I looked about and noticed that Abigail walked out in plain sight as I almost wet myself from the sight before me. There was a gathering of creatures most foul to human senses. Two beings stood between us in the river and in between those two beings was what appeared to be a humanoid of features I could. not make out. The flesh was model green and his chin sagged. The bottom of his body was torn and ragged, flowing off into nothingness. He looked at us and then bowed his head down again in shame. Above his head was a mark of some kind. One of the creatures were etching it on his head.

Whips with smoke and steam hiss from its touch. It was some form of living shadow thing, impossibly thin with a skeletal horned head and bat-like wings in smoke-filled tatters behind it i knew if this creature was in a room with you you'd never see it before it was too late to do anything and the other creature was a fat thing in fineries remnant from some medieval hell and the colors of its clothing were not so different from that of a feudal noble but the grotesque thing that wore them was another thing to behold it wore no shoes on the greasy looking elephant-like feet it had. Its head resembled that of a frog and a lizard that had sex with a pterodactyl,

with the wings on it looking as if they'd arisen from the back and shoulders at the same time. I knew this place was off, but I had to resist every singular irsh to run as fast and as far away as I could. I guess Abigail had noticed, as she slapped their shit out of me. Stay here. Those two things would cause you to have a very bad day. well we're lucky they're in the midst of a transaction because if they wanted one of them would snatch you while i dealt with the other and you'd be that guy there trading i said nothing only nodded the urge to wet myself returned and i turned to pee on the ground while making sure nothing else wanted me i could hear abigail talking to the fat one as the shadow thing had adjusted itself to stare at me the fear i felt then was too much it radiated cold and evil and it hated me but the way it had held the other man i knew it would not slay me at least not right

away that other man was dead and i wasn't if this was a transaction then a living being would probably net a lot more than that pitiful creature it held as angry and fearful as i was right now i trusted her to know best not long after her moments of chatter with the things they moved on and abigail returned pulling me by the upper arm. I could only stare at the things as the man was given to the fat thing and the shadow monster bowed and took flight, glaring at me as it vanished

into nothingness. Its captives wailing mixed with those of the spirits around us. What were those things? What the hell were those? I asked, shaken to the call. I felt as if my mind would shatter at the revelation of the existence of such things.

Even though I'd watched a killer house, and fight a fairy-tale night hag in Philly. Oh. The fat thing was a kebular, and the other thing was a shadow demon. The guy in the middle was a purchase. We interrupted their business. I asked for passage to the edge of the water

and return for something, she told. Something like what? I asked, checking the skies and the shadows around me. I'll give it a vial of the hag's blood. They could use it if I decided to let her live, she said. She said it very casually too. Look, Dan, this is a hell dimension.

There's not a lot of good here. Good comes and goes on various missions of mercy and such, but this is hell. I nodded in despair as I realized that I truly was in a world not my own. The good thing, Dan, is that the human mind is very resilient. If you spent another month here and learn to survive, these things would still be scary, but become commonplace. Oh, you get used to it. That's the gift our species has.

Once we survive a thing and see it enough, we grown onto it. She sat on the shore of a river, near some sort of man or monster-made dock for some time. She cautioned me that this was the river leather leather. Its waters would make you forget everything the longer you were exposed to it. A splash could make you forget the last few minutes. A dunk could make you forget the last few hours. an immersion, well, let's not go there. We taught more as we waited.

She told me of the many places she'd been to and things she's seen or false. She always laughed when she told me over the various times she got her ass handed to her. It says it's one of the reasons she doesn't kill everything we consider supernatural. She said there are populations of monsters that had their methods of survival

just as we had ours. And to us a moral thing might not be the same as a moral thing to them. The goal was to stop those that caused harm for no other reason than to do it, not slaughtered as something we don't understand unless it was a threat. "'Ah, finally,' she said, standing, looking into the distance. I stood in turn to look at an old wooden boat that at once seemed incredibly slow, but had also reached us with incredible speed. "'Is that who I think it is?' I asked him.

"'That's only one of who you think it is. Sharon the fairy man is like a holy figure to them. The fairy man are a full species with mastery of the river left. This is their home. This is where they conduct business. This is how you traverse all the hells and even a couple of the nicer places. The fairy man was a hooded and robed figure whose outfit was a flowing, tattered, dark gray thing.

His skeletal face frightened me, but not to the extent the fat thing and the shadow thing had. I sensed evil, but no malice. Abigail told me these things were professionals first you stated where you wanted to go and paid them it was a simple thing Greetings travelers where do you wish to go it said as if the air just flowed through the teeth forming the words with them moving So the cord of the two spires Abigail said My fees two gold pennies it began when Abigail motioned me forward give him the tan down and watch She said. I reached into my pocket and poured out the $10 bill.

When I looked at it, I'd expected to see Hamilton's face as I unfolded the paper money to give to the ferryman. What the hell? I said, looking in shock at a picture of Abe Lincoln. The date of production said March 1861. That's a demand note, Dan. The first real widely accepted paper money of the US. The ferrymen love this more than they love God. gold pennies. Because of the sheer amount of souls they got to ferry about the plains during the

Civil War in such a short amount of time, but it's a historical event for them. I handed the creature the money and watched it come to life then. Abraham Lincoln, it said, adding, this was a fine time to be a ferryman. So much profit was made then. It was a great four years on white landmacks. It's in pleased with the payment, holding it aloft as it vanished. It's into nothingness. I'll give expedient service for you. Let us be off to the cord of the two spires. It said as we left the dock at a clip.

Of all the things that can have good dealings in hell, well, they're the ferryman. Just pay them and you're good. Give them something special and you'll be remembered. Well, there are still some evil SOBs. Just don't cross them and you're protected while you travel with them, she said. Well then.

To the cord of the two spires. Right, I just need you to pause here for a moment. I'm not crazy, you're not crazy. I just learned 100% that we most definitely are not alone. There's more to life than humanity out there. Out where? Everywhere. Some of it's not nice.

So, let's welcome you to the two spires. The trip through hell. A hell. was weird. For all of my dread, and believe me there was a lot of that, I felt like an explorer. I felt like Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. I knew I could die at any moment, but this was exhilarating. This particular hell is not like the hells you read or hear about. There was no mass gnashing of teeth. No demons were screaming, just to scream for screaming's sake. You could hear the sounds of the area like the winds and the water flowing, but the furry man himself was

as silent as death itself and the way it looked he was like death itself we could see the spires in the distance i seemed so far away but as abigail told me distance didn't matter here or anywhere on most planes as we sailed the oddest thought came to me hey Abby i said as she turned to look at me she looked so damn strong standing on the prow she looked as if she were leading to the charge of the librarian. Yeah? She replied. Let's say you were in a movie,

like the one where the girl comes out of the TV, or the one where the girl croaks a lot and possesses that house in Japan. Could you beat them? I asked, genuinely curious. Nope, she replied, not looking back. I could tell she was smiling. Really?

I said in return, shocked at the admission. Oh, I'd have raised them. I'd have raised them out of existence, she said, turning to face me. In my line of work, there are things I can beat, but they just keep coming back to cause more harm. Other things, while physical in some ways, are mental in others, she said, sitting down. There are things I have to let exist, regardless of what happens to them or us. I have no idea who made this up, but I can sense that's how it's supposed to be. Well, those two in those films are what's known as,

Mimetic. They'll exist as long as people think of and remember them. I've told you before that I can mark, protect, record and erase things. When I erase something, it's just gone, she said, making the Poof motion. Do you know where they go to when they're erased? I asked. Nope, I don't care to either. I despise Meneik. A mnematic is a shitty thing that haunts places like Reddit and emails. Amimetic exists as long as people think they do. They get in people's heads and they make them go insane. Well, werewolves and dogmen eat people. Well, they generally don't do that.

Skinwalkers are just assholes that like to scare folk unless they have a vendetta. But amimetic is worse. They don't even kill for profit. They just do it because they can. I could see her growing angry now as she spoke of them. I hate bullies, Dan. Amoeatics are bullies. Fuck them, she said, turning away.

I left alone. And for a moment forgotten how this place enhances anger. I guess even she wasn't immune, even after having lived here for so long. As we came around a bend, the court of the two spires came into view as we closed upon them. Well, ten minutes ago, they'd seem like they were twenty miles away, and in the turn of the bend of the letter,

it was only about three city blocks away. All the fear came back to me then, when I could make out what the gigantic things were in reality. The spires were the skeletal remains of two enormous human identities. One of the things looked inhuman, with skeletal wings jutting out of the back, its body merged into the rock face as evil things flitted about it. All manner of demon, fiend and devil were milling about. I had no wish to enter or even go near the place. I regretted coming here.

I'd have nightmares about this forever. As if my mind doesn't snap under the strain. For the humans or human-like beings dealt with these things frequently, I have to ask how. How was it possible? Abby did say that the more you dealt with this, the easier on the mind it became. I don't know if I believed her.

But I saw her do something insane. She pulled out her phone, holding it like she was taking pictures. She was taking pictures. She motioned me over. I am not posing for a selfie in hell, that began. I'm not getting off this ferry with all those things about. We have to.

You only paid for this trip, she shrugged. You'll be known forever to the ferryman as one of the better passengers, if that helps. The fair has ended. Our business is done. Please exit the boat. I have another fare waiting. Thank you for your business. business Dan Josephson of Philadelphia. It said as it nodded its bony head to me.

So we exited the craft and stood upon the dock. I watched as the ferry left, wishing I'd had another five or ten on me, or make sure in future to always keep a spare just in case. As I stood looking at the other spy, it was more human-looking in nature, but it wasn't a human head atop the skeleton. It had a large ivis-like head attached. The things near this one were more grounded. There were no flying things about it. Every grotesque monstrosity here walked or hovered. Some slithered, leaving behind slimy gortrouse,

and others stood about chatting as if this was normal. I guess this was normal for them, not for me. Why do we come here, Abby? What was the purpose? I thought we were chasing the hag, I asked, not wanting to move another inch. This is where she came. she replied why I thought she wanted you dead she does but that's the thing about hacks

they love to make deals and break them when things don't go their way they seek out the contractor who made her a deal and then allowed an asshole like me to screw it up so um what's the goal there's no way even you could kill or fight through all of these mockeries of life i retorted one thing you'll learn when you travel as i do is that you can't murder hobo to make your way through reality to get ahead. That only works for a while until it doesn't. Okay, then, what's the plan? We make a counteroff, she said, pointing ahead.

I turned to see what she was pointing at. It was the hag. That hellish creature she fought on the roof of the house. She stirred at the foot of the giant skeletal structure watching us as we passed by the creatures of hell. There was literally no point in watching my back. Everywhere I looked was a thing from nightmares. There were things here that could kill me and eat my soul in an instant.

I'd probably never sleep well again and I'd go broke with all the mental help I'd be needing after all this. A dogman, singular, was one thing. To learn of dogmen as a population was something else. Anyway, we moved toward the red-eyed bitch that had caused me to be here. She stood smiling her too wide grin I got a real good look at her and it was like something from a movie She was ultra thin and bony She stood not kneed and hunched over

The bare grey model breasts hung like another set of arms And she wore jewelry and I used that in the loosest terms possible Made of teeth bones and skulls over the red tattered clothing about her The hair was greasy and black with a white streak up the middle between the horns on our heads. Well, well, it took you long enough to find me, Hunter, she said, rubbing her hands together. I didn't think you'd show up on custody.

I find it pleasant myself, and what about you, little human meets? Too far from home for you. She pointed a bony hand toward me and I instinctively moved a bit behind Abigail. She stepped in between me and it. If I'm here, Hagg, then you know I'm not a hunter.

The humans who travel the plains are not like Dan. You know for well earth humans are a different breed in town. The way Abigail had said it, as if our species, I guess my species were somehow lesser, and those other types of humans had dealings with these planes. I admit I felt like a lesser person at that observation. The world we come from was just a hunting ground for these creatures. We weren't much to even consider.

sit outside of meat and harvesting we were food to the beasts of the night and even our best the hunters of these things would never come here at least not like Abigail does I used to live here hag carcery stinks and so do you Abigail stated adding well shall we proceed about our business so I can leave this cesspool I noticed some of the creatures close by turn and snicker when she said that but Abigail stood first Yes, you house-killing bitch, the hag retorted. I must admit I was at a loss as to what the hell was going on. I thought we came here to kill her, I asked in a whisper.

Abigail bent toward me as we walked into a hall of bone, and I gagged as we neared a fountain that steamed with an acidic stench. We did, but once I figured out where she was going, the new plan came to mind. I knew what she was planning by coming, in here she said to me and what was that well she's taken me to the small claims courts I killed her house and she knew she couldn't kill me so she'd return to the thing that gave her a place to play a trade on earth she would plead that her bargain

whatever it is was not fulfilled due to your presence and then calling me well wait so if I hadn't called you who wouldn't even be here I asked well probably not you but I eventually found the house and killed it anyway. You said she couldn't kill you. Why not? I know you different than I am, but are you immortal or something? I asked. No, I can be killed, but things like her bargain in souls and I'm really hard to kill. My soul is currently promised to three other beings. Even if I die before they do, they'd have to squabble over the bits of my soul, but the things that made me will not let go, so easily. You'll see. Abigail said as I stopped walking to consider her words. Come, eat, the hag motioned. I haven't all day to deal with your time. As we made our way

up the staircase of bleached bones, the hag kept looking back at me as if I was some prize to be won. It was like I was worth all the gold in the world. But, I realized I wasn't. From everything I have experienced today A single human soul isn't worth much Outside of being turned into a foot soldier in some red war That Abigail told me about The war between the monsters of all the hells While the celestials watched and guarded

Shit, why are you here, Dan? I asked myself We made it to an open air room on the third or fourth rib Of the Faye As we walked toward the door We were greeted by a burly dog-faced thing in gleaming armor and carrying a polished golden spear thing. "'Stage your business,' it grouted us, and the hag moved forward. "'I would have words with your masterpiece.

"'Inform it that Tagrithin of Gehena has come to file a complaint.' "'And you?' he asked of Abigail. "'I'm the thing she's going to file a complaint about. "'I'm Abigail Mitchell of Earth.' "'Well, it sniffed Abigail as if it's a was looking for something else i sense carcerion you also it stated bring your human and enter the dog thing didn't even look in my direction inside it was more a courtroom with creatures of ill-intent standing on the sides as they all sought audience with the master well i must say it was a very orderly affair it was terrifying but orderly to the side to the side the dog guard thing bowed pushing aside other monsters. You shall kneel before the lord of this place.

Matt Nio, the ruler of Klim. Well, everyone knelt, as did I. You do not want to stand out in a place like this. Ah, Tagrithin, came a voice from behind a large table covered in what looked like flesh torn from something large. Why do I smell the scent of Phileo, you hack? why have you come here? Matnyor said in a monotone voice.

I had no wish to see a hell lord, but I opened my eyes and look forward as the high-backed chair turned about. I actually smirked for a quick moment rather than appear frightened, and the elbow Abigail gave me made me stop immediately. The thing that had wrought so much terror

from the things in the room and even commanded Abigail's respect looked like a fleshy version of a bubble-blower and a stick figure but even I could see that its body was powerfully corded and ripped, and those hands held dangerous clothes. The head of it was head-shaped, but there was a massive hole where the face should be and just ears on the sides of the head. It was a gaping moor of darkness. And why did you bring that with you?

It said, pointing at Abigail. Abigail stood quiet and said nothing. I despise the remade one. they're nothing but trouble, exceedingly hard to remove stains of the universe. Years ago, we made the pact you and I, though you'd furnish me with a key to leave this prison plane in return for my services on earth in a nation of my choosing, and the habitat in which to live.

You promised that humans would only be able to contest me after seven upon seven years. Well, this year is year 13, and yet this human, she said pointed to Abigail has destroyed the harm you provided and I can no longer send you the souls to which you can bargain with that is true hag no human has contested you it said this human has I claim its life for you and its soul to be used as you please the hag said pointing at me come forward meet speak and be aware that this hole for a head can and sense deception for authoress is a plain of liars and traitors after death it said as i gritted my teeth and carefully moved from behind abigant your lordship i'm dan josephson and i noticed that the house

this woman had used for nefarious purposes and i'm much like the guard dog i heard it growl behind me as i said it. Um, well, your guard here. I'm a cop and I have to alert my superiors of crimes being committed. A police officer, how noble, how quaint, how truthful, it stated before continuing. So, police officer, the hack says you were the cause of her troubles on the 13th year. How do you please? Um, well, not guilty, I said, shutting one eye. Hague, the human speaks the truth. No human has contested you in seven upon seven years, the bubble head said.

Then what do you call that? The hag said, pointing at Abigail. He summoned her. She destroyed my property. Property I was using in your service. She was even angrier than before. She huffed but made no motion to attack Abigail. This is true police officer down.

Did you summon this remade to destroy property not belonging to you? Matten, you're asked, folding his fingers together. I don't know what summoning it is, sir. I just called Abigail because she's dealt with things like this before. I swear that's all I did. I yammered, the bottom falling out in my gut as panic threatened to set in. I looked to Abigail for comfort and saw that mirth in her eyes again. What was she planning?

I have no wish to speak to a remade one. You and your kind are a pox on reality, but I am aware of your nature, if not the full extent of your power. But speak to you I must. The human meat has spoken no falsehoods, and you are not fully human anymore. Thus the Hags protests have no merit. Matneur began. She will pay the soul she owes for the remainder of her terms, or her eternity shall be spent as a worm, grovelling for stature in the wet war's ship bits.

But since you've demolished her home, she'll be punished now as she has nowhere to return to, and I will not give a second key from Carcery. Even the Titans have no such claim. Abigail will step forward. Then, may I propose a counter off a good matting you? I sense bedevilment in you go. What are you on about?

Well, I love Philadelphia, and wish to see it improve. You can do so with the hag's help and strict compliance to rules I would blood oath her to follow on pain of eternal death here and now. She'd also be in place to fulfil your pact for not only this year, but for seven upon seven, and seven upon seven more. I looked to Abigail in stunned amazement. What the hell has she been thinking? Why was she want to bring such a creature back to her? I knew there was nothing I could do to stop her. Maybe this was all a trick, and she couldn't be trusted after all.

I bowed my head, and that's all I remember from that point, until I got back to Earth. I don't even remember how we returned. I do remember waking up at home with a terrible headache, and the feelings of anger slowly leaving my body. I vaguely remember some of the creatures I saw there, not specific details, but vagaries. I remember the hag and the house with full clarity, the ride on the river Lethe and the demonic courtroom, but not much of what occurred. I remember being questioned and being told I was being truthful,

and I remember the hag being upset, and Abigail are not saying much. After a few hours of further napping and eating, I gave Abigail a call. She told me she'd be over after a while. She said she had to check in on somebody first. When she arrived, I sat down, with her. I had to know what happened after I'd blacked out and wound up back home. Why it was

so hard for me to remember anything else. She pulled out her cell phone and showed me pictures from that place that I'd have had a hard time wanting to remember, and then she pulled out a small vial of murky liquid. What's that? I asked. It's water from the river left. I took some to use on you because you're a friend, and I don't want you suffering through those images every time you closed your eyes. Normal earth humans are not ready for that yet. This is more in case you want to forget everything up to yesterday. But each sip is five hours, she told me, giving me the vial.

I held it in my hand and looked at it. I'd just napped with no problems at all. Did she take out the really bad stuff? Well, I guess it worked first on those memories more harmful to the mind, leaving the less dangerous ones somewhat intact, did Faye. So, what happened then? What happened with the hag?

We'll be successful in killing her. I asked, wanted to know if I'd done something badass or not. Abigail told me the whole thing about us meeting her patent giver and Abigail being taken to the hell version of small claims courts. How Abigail made a new deal to bring the hag back to Philly. You did what? I yelled, eyes wide. I made a new deal.

I did it not only to help this city but to clean it up from some of the corruption. How so? I asked with genuine curiosity. The hag will be made a councilwoman. Her job will be to keep track of contracts that are used to harm rather than help the people of Philadelphia. She'll deal with them in her way, and only get my ire if she doesn't follow the many rules I set forth for her. So we have an evil otherworldly hags. serving on the city council to help the city, and deal with those that harm the city. Who is she?

Can't tell you that, she said, shrugging. That's part of the deal. So will the hag still steal all people's souls and send them back to that carcery place? We're only certain people now, and she'll have a limit of three per year, as agreed by the terms of the blood oak, she said. So, um, well, our noble effort to enter hell wound up with the back I guess. getting a job on the city council yep no slay the evil wish to save the people huh nope she'd go on to fill in the parts i couldn't remember and leave out the details of some more horrific things she did tell me i'd make a

good hunter one day though that was what she was training michel to be when i asked her about the blood oath and what that entailed she told me the hack's soul would be unable to be used as payment or punishment until their pact was done and she added that no other being could lay claim to her soul while the pact was in place i told her that in her line of work i guessed it was a good thing to have this kind of curse when no one could lay claim to your spirit she then told me something that made my eyes go wide she told me she wasn't worried either way i asked her why because silly i have 21 curses on me already she said smiling that Abigail smile and there you have it folks the reason I'm not insane according to Abigail the more you see these things the more your brain rewrites itself

I had also helped that she was around to slap the hell out of me when I felt a little off the little vile I have of the otherworldly river water help me forget some things but the pictures she took on that damn phone remind me that it did happen well That's it for now. One day I'll tell you about the dogman, or that time in Upper Derby. Oh, oh God, Upper Derby. And so once again, we reach the end of tonight's podcast. My thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories,

and to you for taking the time to listen. Now, I'd ask one small favor of you. Wherever you get your podcast wrong, please write a few nice words and leave a five-star review as it really helps the podcast. That's it for this week, but I'll be back again same time, same place, and I do so hope you'll join me once more. Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye.