Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S5 Ep277: Episode 277: Demons, Doppelgangers and Possessions

Episode Date: September 22, 2025

Use the promo code SUPERBAD for 10% off all T-shirts!  https://dr-creepens-vault.creator-spring.com/listing/the-devil-is-in-the-detail Our opening case of the supernatural is ‘I Overheard My Best Friend Hiring A Stranger To Kill His Wife’ by 02321, kindly shared with me via my subreddit for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all:  user/02321/ r/DrCreepensVault/comments/y5tpjw/i_over_heard_my_best_friend_hiring_a_stranger_to/  Our second case is ‘My Girlfriend Awoke Unable to Feel Pain’, an original story by Chris Bird 93, kindly shared with us at NoSleep and narrated with the author’s permission:  /r/nosleep/comments/8ew4yn/my_girlfriend_awoke_unable_to_feel_pain/  Tonight’s third case of terror is ‘My Girlfriend Starred in a Movie that Doesn't Exist’, an original story By Spook Brain, kindly shared with me via NoSleep and narrated here for you all with the author’s express permission:  user/SpookBrain/  https://www.facebook.com/SpookBrain/  Our penultimate case of the paranormal this evening is 'My Wife did Something Really Weird Last Night', an original story by John Q.K, kindly shared with us at NoSleep and narrated with the author’s permission:  r/nosleep/comments/8m3tyz/my_wife_did_something_really_weird_last_night/  Tonight’s final terrifying case is ‘I Bought a Wife Online’, an original story By xXKikitoXx, kindly shared with me via NoSleep and narrated here for you all with the author’s express permission:  user/xXKikitoXx/  https://www.facebook.com/KikitoHorrors/  https://twitter.com/Kikito_Horrors

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please contact Connix Ontario at 1866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. Welcome to Dr. Creepin's Dungeon. Demon's doppelgangers and possessions terrifies because they strike at the heart of what makes us feel safe. Control over our own bodies, minds and identities. A demon represents pure malevolence invading from beyond, a force we cannot reason with or escape. A double ganger unsettles us by reflecting our own image twisted into something alien, raising questions about who we really are.

Possession combines both fears. Our sense of self-hijacked, leaving us trapped inside whilst something else wears our face and uses our voice. These horrors remind us that the greatest terror isn't always death, but losing ourselves to something we can't fight, 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. And let's begin. I investigate demons, doppelgangers. and possessions. Here are some of my strangest cases. Case one. I overheard my best friend hiring a stranger

to kill his wife. I've always lived in a town with fewer than 20,000 people in it. I never realized how small a place like that could be until I went to a nearby city of 300,000 for shopping. My world felt so enclosed after that trip. I couldn't even wrap my mind around cities with a million or more people. I may need to move away from this small town of mine for good, well, pretty soon, though. I can't look at anything here without being reminded of what true horrors, humans and monsters can commit. About three years ago, a new couple moved next door. Gave them a friendly wave whenever I took the trash out at the same time as them or when we bumped into each other in town. The town so small, that started to happen pretty often.

Jared warmed to me, and soon we became pretty much. good friends. He worked at home, doing coding, I think. He enjoyed having a person nearby he could talk to, besides his wife. His job had pretty limited to human interactions, and it drove him a little crazy at times. Sandra was also very nice, but we didn't have too many of the same interest, so we rarely spoke with each other. They appeared to be the perfect pair, and Sandra started to work as a teacher, and everyone loved her. I honestly never saw another person. so accepted in the town so quickly before. It helped that she did a lot of volunteer work.

Yeah, Sandra made herself very easy to get along with. It always made me wonder why I never felt the need to talk with her more often. On the way home one day, I saw Jared at the bottom of the path that led off the bridge. I saw him before he saw me. Well, if I crossed the bridge and walked along the half-moon-shaped path, I'd reach where he stood. From where I was, I saw him clearly, but once I got to the road, on the path would lose sight of him due to the large bushes and trees that grew beside the trail.

He was speaking with someone I didn't recognize. Now in a town this small, everyone didn't exactly know everyone else, but people tended to have seen each other at least once. The man speaking with my neighbour gave me weird vibes. I only stopped walking to turn the other way, but I needed to get by them to get home, so I started to walk towards the other end of the bridge. I wondered if I called down to them or if Jared noticed me if things might have turned out different from that.

I got closer, the bushes blocking my view of them, but I smelled the odd man smoking and heard their voices. Their words make me freeze in my tracks. Can he make it painless? I do still love her after all. Jared spoke and he sounded to be in so much pain. Oh, how sweet are you to still love your cheating wife? Well, I suppose I can do such a thing. I may not be able to get it for another week, though.

I do have other clients. The other man spoke in a deep smoker's voice without any enthusiasm. Wait, what? Sandra? Cheating? I just couldn't picture that. Those two looked to be so much in love with each other, more so than any other couple I'd come across. Jared would step in front of a bus to save his wife if needed.

Even if she did cheat, he was the type to forgive her and not, well, what were they talking about here? Was this man some sort of divorce lawyer? It's who she's been with. That's what I can't forgive. Please, you know what my payment is? If you can make it soon,

I just can't live with the thought of her still being around to just keep doing it. Jared trailed off then, his voice cracking. I took a step back and winced at the noise. they were making. For a moment I thought they'd heard me from the pause in their conversation, but the other man had just been lighting up another cigarette. I saw a part of the stranger through the leaves. He was hunched over with a wrinkled grey suit jacket. Some wrinkles by his eyes and messy grey hair pushed back. His shoes had once been a nice pair, made of shiny black

leather, but now his scuffs covering the front. His eyes darted away from Jared, and I could have sworn we made eye contact. A slight smile came over his face, but he soon returned his attention back to the one in front of him and didn't bring up the fact that someone had overheard their conversation. I finally clued into what I'd been hearing. When they both said their parting words, I quickly hid inside the bushes, expecting one of them to walk by and confront me about what I'd just heard. Thankfully, neither of them walked my way. Jared kept walking towards home, and the man walked off in the other direction when he hit the end of the trail. I just couldn't understand what had just happened.

My best friend had just hired someone to kill his wife. I mean, cheating or not, this was too far. My stomach turned in disgust. I trusted, Jared, I thought the world of him. This simply didn't make sense. I didn't know what to do. Confront him about it. Would he turn his hired help on me because I knew the truth?

This was out of my hands. I did the reasonable thing, and reported it to the police. Our town had a small station. I was distantly related to one of the main detectives, and I saw him once a while on the rare family gatherings. He sat down with me, and I told him what I'd heard, and asked him to have a look into it. He also agreed that this didn't make much sense.

I mean, as far as anyone could see, Jared and Sandra weren't having relationship problems or money issues. I doubted Jared would have killed her for some sort of life insurance. He did say she was cheating when talking to the strange man. I gave a description of the higher killer and felt terrible I didn't have much else to help with the case. The detective told me to act normally around them if Jarrett spoke with me. He didn't want me poking around trying to get information and tipping him off that I knew something. Well, he thanked me for coming over, said he'd have someone looking into this right away.

Before I left, he asked if I was going to go to our grandmother's birthday party at the end of the month. I told him I was thinking about it. We then spent a few minutes trying to work out how we were related exactly. We figured he was an uncle-in-law and left it at that. In small towns, everyone was related to everyone in a distant sort of way. I found it pretty hard to sleep knowing a plot against Sandra was going on next door. Would Jared really wait until the hitman did his job, or take matters into his own hands.

Was he being cruel to her? Could I really do anything else to help? All these questions nearly drove me crazy. I stayed in my house, worried I might run across Jared, and he'd find out that I knew his plan just by looking at me. After three days, the station called, asking me to go in and answer some more questions. While I walked in and was guided into a small interrogation room,

my stomach sank. I asked if Sandra will be. was all right. Yeah, they said she was fine and they treated me fairly well. I mean, they weren't accusing me of any crime. They just wanted to see if I knew anything else I might not have told my distant uncle when I came in last. Have you ever used their computer? Just borrowed it for a second to look something up or their phones. Did you notice anything odd in the search history? A female officer asked. I shook my head. I didn't have a clue what she was talking about. They have a pool right? Did they have parties

with younger teens before? Any kids you think they weren't related to? Well, she pressed, expecting some sort of answers. I sank in my chair, thinking back to the summers they spent after they moved here. Yes, they did have some pool parties, but I always assumed those kids were relatives. I never really saw the kids,

just heard them from my backyard. I hadn't even looked to see if the same kids came by the next year. Yeah, they had younger teens over. Not sure of their ages. From the sound of the things, no one was over 16, but I never really looked. I just heard the parties. Hey, what's this about? Hey, did Jared... I asked, but couldn't finish my sentence. Did Jared have those kids over for a reason? Did Sandra know, threatened to turn him in? He hired someone to take care of her. He might have been lying to the

hitman about the reason he was asking for his services. I shook my head, feeling sick and the world now spinning. This wasn't right. I mean, I knew these two. Jared wouldn't hurt a fly. He was so quiet and gentle with everyone. Hell, if you raised your voice at him, he backed down. If he did the things they were suggesting,

he wouldn't be able to keep it hidden for long. He'd turn himself in. Then again, I didn't think you'd ever hire someone to kill his wife. He spoke for another hour, and I didn't help at all. at least I didn't think I did. A knock came to the door and I nearly jumped down to my seat by the side of the man who came inside. I said right into the face of the man who'd been hired to kill Sandra.

His outfit now a black crisp suit and hair neatly fixed. The officer noticed my reaction and then looked towards the man not knowing who he was. I sputtered out he was the hired killer, but he took out a badge to hand to the officer. I'm Agent Graves. We'll be looking into this case. If you finish with him, could I borrow Mr. Wells in the lobby for a moment? He spoke, and even his voice sounded more professional than before.

I shook my head, and at least the officer took the man outside and ran his badge before handing it back over. She confirmed he was who he said he was and needed to release me over to the agent. I couldn't keep up with this new turn of events. Was this man undercover pretending to be a hired killer? just what the hell kind of trouble did my neighbours get into? I followed the man to the front of the station, still confused about what was going on.

I didn't even know what kind of question to ask or why he wanted me out in the lobby. He just kept walking, saying he'd rather talk outside by his car, and that's when a new pair came through the door. Our eyes met, and I froze. Jared came inside with a different officer. He saw me in, his face fell. The officer looked confused on who the agent standing next to me could be. He didn't press Jared to keep walking, and he wasn't in cups. I mean, he wasn't arrested.

Seriously, then, what was going on? How much do you know? Jared asked me in a voice that sounded if he was crying. Were you the one who asked the police to look into us? God, we could have taken care of this quietly. But now, he had the nerve to appear hurts, the man who put a hit out on his wife. Oh, and the man, police were asking about any underage teens being at his house for some reason. Oh, I anger flared at how he acted so betrayed.

Look, I know you ask this man to kill your wife. What the hell are you trying to do? What are you hiding? I demanded, getting into his face, feeling so upset that the man I trusted had done all these things. He backed up, eyes red and wet with tears. This wasn't the face of a man who committed the axe to the police assumed. Or maybe he looked like this because he knew he'd been caught. You had to ruin things by shouting that in the middle of the lobby.

This is why I wanted to get you out of here, Agent Graves said, and we both looked over to him. To my shock, the darkness started to fade from his suit until it looked like the wrinkled grey jacket from before. The sounds of the busy office disappeared, and I looked away from Jared to see the officer that came in with him had now gone. I shook my head, trying to clear it. My eyes darted around, seeing the entire office empty besides the three of us. I opened my mouth to speak but found no words.

The smile that came over the force agent's face unnerved me more than the odd disappearances had. Your wife is in one of the holding rooms. I can take care of her now and get this over with. Graves offered, and I shouted in shock over the offer. No, you can't just... What's going on? I demanded. I didn't want you to find out about this. I didn't want anyone to find out.

This should have gone over silently. I don't know how you knew, but please, please just let us deal with all of this. Jarrett pleaded. Deal with what? Killing your wife? Did she find her? find out something you don't want to admit. But you had teens over at your place for God knows what,

and you lied to them saying that she was cheating on you? I said, body shaking from rage. God, I don't know where everyone went, but I'm going to find someone to arrest both of you. I stormed over to the door, seeing that the glass was oddly frosted, making it impossible to see outside. Well, I hadn't remembered it ever looking like that before.

I, um, wouldn't do that if I were. you, Grave said in a half-hearted manner. I have my mouth to say something, but the moment my hand touched the handle, something banged against the glass making me jump. I let out a scream, seeing what stared back from the other side. A skull of some sort of animal was pressed hard against the door, flesh clinging to the bone, and a glowing white eye meeting my own.

And another rotten creature came, something that looked to be a large bird. soon so many of these dead animals were looking inside and they were all fighting for space the sounds of their dead body's moving together and the cries coming from the run throats came from outside surrounding the entire building i fell to my knees fear overtaking all my senses hurry up and get this dumb ass out i don't like using this much power for too long grave spoke and then poured out a cigarette He lit it with a pink disposable lighter and looked down at me with such an amused expression It nearly made me sick I didn't lie to him about Sandra cheating with me Jared admitted his body shaking as much as my own She was sleeping with someone from work

Graves added with a cruel laugh That's a disgusting way to put it Gerard scolded the man What? I asked slowly And everything started started to fall into place. I completely ignored what Jared had said to the man before, that he couldn't forgive her for who she'd been with. Not the fact she'd cheated. He could forgive that, but not if the one she slept with was a minor. I forced back bile, my face

draining with colour. I'd assume Jared to be the one the police were after on those kind of charges, and ever even considered Sandra would be the one to do such a thing. She was... Students? I barely got out. At least one. I didn't want to believe it because I love her, but everything made sense. I've been so blind to it. I don't know how many or how long this has gone on for. I should have seen this earlier because I was only 15 when we started dating. I did the math in my head. I always assumed Jared looked a bit too young for his age. He'd been lying and adding a few years all this time. Sandra, who has been. have been 20 when they started dating.

God, I wasn't dating, that was a crime. I understood why he goes so far as to hire an actual monster to take care of the problem. Because I asked the police to look into them, all of this had come to light. Just how many victims of Sandra were out there? I made it to my feet, with so many things running through my head. What, you're just going to kill her? What about all the other victims, don't they get a say? I asked, unsure of what else to say.

Not thought came to the force agent's eyes, as if he was just about to see an amusing play. He looked over at Jared, waiting for his response. My friend's cheeks turned red, unable to deal with what I'd asked. He got into our business when you don't know anything about it. I told you we could have dealt with this silently. I don't think the one she's heard want to be dragged into all this. They could have gone on with her life. knowing the one that he stopped his rant unable to say what the wife he loved had done to her students

they don't need to go through people talking about it it's better just to do it this way you think it's better you don't know how the others feel she should be punished by the law shouldn't she and even if everyone agrees that she should be killed you shouldn't be the one to burden this you can't live your entire life dealing with the fact that you had Sandra killed I mean you You still love her. There's nothing wrong with that, I pointed out, well aware I really didn't have any right speaking in this matter. Jared was the victim here.

He'd been one for years, but I didn't mean he needed to be weighed down with the aftermath of Sandra's crimes. He would suffer greatly knowing he'd been the one that caused her death. Hey, look, I won't live much longer after the deed is done. That's my payment. My dog is always hungry, so I agreed to let graves take my life. life after he's killed my wife. Jared admitted this in such a calm tone. It frightened me more than anything else that had happened. My eyes went to the man listening to us. His pupils were

glowing a bright white, and his mouth was in a wide smile. He was amused by our talk. I hated him whatever he was, a demon or something else. A kind person on my friend didn't deserve to have come across a monster like this. I went over to Jared, wanted to punch some sense into him. I took his hand tightly in my own. He tried pulling away, but I grabbed his other hand to keep him still. He'd always been a pusher over after all. Don't you dare.

I'll admit I have no right to say if Sandra should be killed for what she did or not. I'm not the one she heard, but you're not taking the easy way out. That's selfish and you know it. There are too many people who care about you to let you do such a thing. We'll think of something else to pay this master with if that's the road you want to go down, I told him. He shook his head, but didn't try taking his hands away. His face was on the verge of breaking down into tears. I'd never seen anyone he introduced his family and didn't really know of any other friends.

Did he have people in his life that cared besides his wife and myself? He answered that unspoken question right away. You're the only one who'd miss. me. I'll be selfish as you to make me stay, he said in a soft voice. Well, then I get to be selfish. You're not letting this monster eat you and that's my final offer, mister. I even managed a small weak laugh after I spoke. Well, I was being unreasonable. Anyone could see that. The monster wearing a human face watched us as if he was seeing an entertaining movie. I swear he just needed a bucket of popcorn.

I stared at him, trying to figure out what to offer him in exchange for killing Sandra. I didn't want to do so in the slightest, but I doubted at this point we could talk ourselves out of the situation. Someone was going to die today, and I wanted to limit it to only the one person who committed the crimes. Hey, would my arm be enough, or a leg, I offered in a cracked voice. Jared pulled his hands away and grabbed my shoulders trying to talk me out of my offer. He shook me until I needed to look directly at his distraught face. You can't do this. You can't give up anything for us.

This is our problem and... I cut him off saying the first thing that came to mind. I love you, man. Not in a romantic sense, but I don't think that lesson's how I feel. If you think it's best she dies for what she did, and we'll commit that crime. You'll always be suffering with or without her. Let me take the burden of the payment.

You're already carrying enough. The silence came over us, only filled by the noises from the dead creatures still lurking outside. My friend was at a loss for words, so the monster he'd hired broke the tension. He started to snicker and made an attempt to cover it for a second. Soon he was laughing so hard he needed to put his hands on his knees, the laughs turning into a coughing fit.

I felt a bit offended by this. but I took it. I stood in front of Jared and the man straightened up, rubbing the tears of laughter from his eyes. Did you have a cough drop or something? I heard my throat from laughing so hard. Jeez, when I think I know humans, he dropped funny shit like that, Graves said. His voice haunts. I didn't want to give him anything, but Jared being the kind person he was, found a hard candy in his pocket and handed it over. I pushed Jared back behind me, trying to protect him from this creature. I didn't even know how these two could have met.

I think Graves sensed Jared's problem and swooped in to take advantage of it. Well, which is it? What do you want from me in order to finish Jerry's request? I asked, staring down Graves. No, you're not going to get hurt because of me. It's not right, my friend protested. I move my head to look at my friend. In that brief second, Grave got inches away from my face.

He hunched over, nearly grinning from ear to ear. I stepped back, taking Jared with me. Hurting others is what death does. Death is pain no matter how the person dies. It's a false of nature that deserves respect. That woman's going to die because you hired me to do so. People are going to be harmed from that action. You cannot back out of all this after getting this far, Graves said, his tone low and dangerous.

I tensed, waiting to hear what the price might be for this request. Jared came from behind me, trying his best to talk Graves out of the whole thing one last time. Please, take whatever you want from me, or just walk away. I can't let my only friend get hurt from my mistake, he begged. Graves stood back up and shook his head. He held out the wrapper of the hard candy between two fingers, the shiny foil catching the light. Jared looked confused, but my stomach dropped when I realized it was far too late to stop graves from killing Sandra. You just paid me for the job.

I never said I'd accept your life as payment. Hard candy is good enough for me. Your friend is right about you taking the easy way out. I decided I liked the idea of you suffering much better. Now, I'll go finish my job. Let's help you to never have a reason to come across me again. We both started to speak, begging him to stop and listen. And in a blink of an eye, the police station returned to normal and graves had disappeared.

We looked around confused, and the officer that brought Jared in didn't seem to remember that the three of us had been somewhere else for a while. To him, there was no agent a second ago. We'd always just been standing there with him. Before we could start asking the officer questions, the station started going into motion. A voice called out, asking for an ambulance to be called. Jared's face turned pale and he fell to his knees. I stayed beside him and let the officers rush around.

I got him into a plastic chair in the lobby, but I was unable to speak with him, so we just sat silently and waited for the news we already knew. They'd already arrested Sandra when both of us were brought in. When an officer left the room to get her a drink, she suffered a massive heart attack from a medical condition no one knew about. I overheard that they thought something else had happened to her, because her face was twisted in such a fearful expression it looked as if she'd been scared to death. After her death, the news of what she'd done over the years started to get out. I had horrified parents, and I kept Jared at my place to protect him from the town's wrath. soon I needed to stay with my sister for a while

and take him along to avoid the heat I didn't want to know all the details or how many crimes there had been I just wanted to support my friend and keep an eye on him I knew this whole thing weighed down on him more than anyone else once people found out his real age and pieced things together about how he'd also been a victim some started to back off though but we haven't returned home just yet

my sister had moved out to near a beach when it's out of season but i felt taking walks by the ocean would help my friend think things over after a few weeks he started to work again which was a good sign i never asked him how he'd found out what his wife was doing or how that monster came across him to offer him such a deal in time and when he's ready he'll tell me right now he just needs someone nearby being patient I hope the people Sandra Hurt could deal after knowing about her death. I didn't know if Jared would ever let his wound fully close. I always remember making a deal with a monster and trading his wife's life for so little. On positive, that's what Graves wanted, for us to carry that memory with us for years to come. Taking Jared's offer of his life truly would have been the nicer option, and that monster wasn't the kindest creature around. I'm not sure Graves really made

sign of his death as painless as he could have and secretly I was glad that he didn't Case two We'd been together for nearly three years And I think I can speak for both of us When I say neither of us had ever been happier We did everything together

We lived together We worked together albeit in different departments And we rarely spent a day apart Emma often woke up in the middle of the night. She wasn't like me in the way that I could always sleep through the thunderstorms or the rattling of the trains whitting past the back of our flat at consistent hourly intervals. She'd often tell me about what she'd heard throughout the night.

Whether it was my sleep-talking or our neighbours having another argument at three in the morning as the husband once again stumbled home drunk, there was always something that had happened. My deep sleep had bothered her slightly, simply because, well, I'd fall asleep first, and she'd be left struggling to close her eyes alone. On many nights she'd find herself squashed up against the wall, because I'd slowly shuffled my way across to her side of the bed. We could never swap sides, however, because we'd both agreed that I would be on the side closest to the door. A month or so ago, as usual, Emma woke up to the train that passed at 1.50 a.m. She turned in the bed, switching on to her right side to face me. I was sound asleep,

of course. This was when it first happened. She twisted her body around from the wall, but couldn't feel the sheets upon her skin, or her body against the mattress. She lifted her hands towards her face and rubbed her eyes. Nothing. Alex, she whimpered. She gently pushed my shoulder. I murmured a still sleeping reply, but then one hard shove brought me back to the real world. When I opened my eyes, Em was digging her nails into her face. I can't feel anything, she cried, tears beginning to well in her own. eyes. Seeing her like this, I sat up immediately. My heart rate increasing tenfold. Hey, hey, hey, it's all right, I soothed, taking her into my arms so that her forehead rested on my

chest. Her face was embedded with several red half-moons from her nails. It must have been a bad dream, that's all. No, she wept. I can't feel you touching me. I can't feel anything right now. When she said that, it sent shivers down my spine. I lifted her head so she was looking at me, and she rubbed her eyes with her palm to such force that I felt sick. I can't feel anything, she repeated. It was horrible seeing her like this.

I grabbed her hands and pinned them down to her sides with a stern look and a heavy breath. Okay, let me see, I said, softly but firmly. I pushed the covers off from us as tears began to roll down her cheeks and drip onto the pillow. Her hands began to scratch at the top of her knuckles, leaving long red lines leading to her wrists. Stop, babe, I ordered, motioning to her hands. She whimpered again, but paused the scratching and sat on her. her pulse.

Can you feel this? I asked, running my fingernail along the base of her foot. A word didn't manage to escape her lips. She just shook her head and let out a little cry. My hand worked my way up her leg. Across her hips, her torso, her neck. I pinched her gently. I pinched her heart.

She truly didn't feel anything. My mind was spinning through all of our options, but I sidled up next to her in bed and kissed her lips. She didn't kiss back. I guided her downstairs and drove her to A&E. Once we arrived, we waited in near silence until someone was ready to see us. Eventually, the two of us followed a nurse into an examination room, and the Stereau smell married with the white walls and large towers. like lights above us. Emma sat in the chair and we waited a few moments more for the doctor

to arrive. Once he joined us, Emma explained the condition that had overcome her, but the doctor was utterly bewildered. This condition is something I've only heard about, he admitted. It's extremely rare, and moreover, it's only ever been genetic. Emma was scratching at her wrist again, so I tried to hold her hand. She didn't even know until I made her look. The doctor kept her in overnight and I stayed by her bed. She did actually manage to fall asleep, however. I think it's because she exhausted herself with worry.

I, on the other hand, couldn't bear to close my eyes. I watched her sleep until she woke up the following morning. She woke and took a minute to get her bearings as the memories flooded back into her mind from the previous night. She patted her body with her hand. Then again, and again, and again. I can feel, she said, ecstatic. Then tears came, but happy tears.

We cuddled and kissed, and she was discharged after a few tests. We were both given the day off work. I'd called the night porters once she'd fallen asleep and informed them of the situation So we spent the day at home watching terrible reality TV and cookery shows We were completely back to normal A simple blip in our pretty perfect lives That night the one 50 a.m. train shook past the flat and jolted Emma awake

She scratched her body all over her body all over. over, unable to feel pain, and then woke me up. I comforted her as she cried, truly terrified she'd be living like this for the rest of her life. We both fell asleep at home, as the doctor had told us there was no medication to help. We were both at work the following morning, tired but relieved. It seemed to only be a night-time ailment, and something that could be overcome with a little time. I made a promise to wake me up whenever she couldn't feel pain. And for a week, that was our lives. She would wake up and then wake me up. We got into the habit of watching YouTube to pass the time, and I made sure that she always fell asleep first. Last Friday, Emma didn't wake me up.

When I opened my eyes in the morning, I cuddled up to her until she awoke. She bolted upright. Long scratch marks that had bled overnight and healed over, covered her forearms. What did you do? I asked, trying to hide how scared it had made me. She was starting to cry again. When I woke up, I didn't feel scared. Well, that's good, I said, relaxing a little. "'No, you don't understand,' she muttered.

"'I didn't feel anything, but not only physically, emotionally too.' I squinted slightly out of confusion and felt creases appear on my forehead. "'I wasn't scared,' she repeated. She looked at me as she began to cry even more. But what scares me the most now—' She whimpered, is that I didn't even love you. I just didn't care. I had no emotion in me at all, and I just couldn't be bothered to wake you up.

I felt my heart tear a little inside, but I understood the situation. That wasn't the real, Emma. I smiled and soothed her. Well, you love me now, right? Of course, she cried, falling into my eyes. arms. She cried heavily, sobbing against my chest as I stroked her hair. I hushed her and told her it would all be okay. We spent the day at home and ordered pizza for dinner. We pretty much went back to normality. But I couldn't stop staring at her wrists. I set an alarm for 2 a.m.

My alarm is pretty gentle, one of those that slowly gets louder with each recurring cycle. When it finally pulled me from my sleep, I turned to find Emma was nowhere to be found. I cautiously made my way out of our room and toward the kitchen. I found Emma naked and facing away from me, staring out of the window and painted in a layer of tea from the streetlight outside. A long kitchen knife was in her right hand, and blood was dripping from the tip. into a small pool beneath her. M, I quietly called. I can't feel anything, she said, lifelessly.

She slowly turned around to face me. Her face was placid, despite two long cuts on both sides, from cheekbone to chin. Blood was dripping down her neck. Her top half was a mix of slashes and stamps. "'Oh, Emma!' I stuttered, fumbling towards her. "'Come near me, and I'll kill you,' she warned. There was no aggressiveness in her voice.

It was a total matter-of-fact statement. I exhaled a hopeless breath, and begged her to please let me help. But she pointed the knife at me. "'You don't understand,' she said. It's all relative. I'm not afraid to die anymore. I'm free. I have nothing to hold me to this world.

I'm not sad or happy or scared or brave. I just see it how it is now. I'm calling an ambulance, I stated. Whatever. Just stay away from me. I called the ambulance and gave them our information. And they told me to stay on the... the phone. I dropped it when Emma plunged the knife into her rib cage. Without thinking,

I ran over and grabbed her hands. But I said not to come over, she said, fighting against my hands. The knife jarringly retracted and reinserted into her stomach a few times. Eventually, it fully exited with her hands on the handle and my hands around her wrist. With enormous effort, I managed to prize apart her fingers. I took her to the floor and locked her arms behind her back until the paramedics arrived. They tied her down during the journey to the hospital, and she seemed completely unbothered by it all. I was by her side when the sun rose from behind the horizon. I was by her side when she woke up.

I was by her side. When she looked at me and said, I still don't feel anything. Emma was submitted to a psychiatric hospital last week, not too far from our flat. My life isn't the same without her. I just can't live like this. The worst part of it all, however,

is that when I go visit her and she sits across from me in her straitjackets, every now and again, the real Emma comes out, and she cries. and she asks me to help her. And she tells me that she is so scared. Case three.

You're such a fool, Jason. Grow up. Putting her hair into a tight bun, my girlfriend pushed my hands away from her breasts. Her tone was dry as usual. It was why I loved her. If I'm such a fool, what does that make you?

I winked playfully, nudging her shoulder. A fool-fucker, she responded, without missing a beat, causing us to burst into uncontrollable laughter. Jumping from the bed, I walked towards our living room, scratching myself. Grabbing for the remote, I turned on the television, flipping to the local news. Local actress Mariah Sardis has snagged the role of a lifetime, having been cast as the leading lady in Martin Scorsese's newly announced film. A grinning headshot of my girlfriend peered back at me from the TV.

I stood there, speechless, wondering what the hell was going on. My girlfriend was many things, but an actress was not one of them. We'd been dating on and off for almost four years, and I knew her anxiety would never allow her to perform in front of the camera. She was a delicate flower, and I did my best to protect her. Um, Mariah, I need you to come here for a second. We stood together in the living room, rewinding the news story over and over again.

A quick Google search confirmed it wasn't an isolated thing. It was everywhere. Her face was plastered on TMZ, people and every other gossip brag you can imagine. This has to be a mistake. I don't know how, but this has to be a mistake. Mariah was trembling, clearly overwhelmed with the moment. Her phone had been ringing off the hook, but she hadn't even glanced at it. This is so freaking weird.

I don't understand what's happening. Soon, everyone is going to find out I'm a fraud. Oh, God! Joking back tears, she ran into the bedroom and shut the door behind her. I stood there, scrolling through endless articles and mentions on social media. As the day wore on, things got even stranger. A Wikipedia page appeared, and soon it was filled with dozens of previous TV and movie appearances.

Hundreds of photos from commercials, adverts and photo shoots began to pop up not soon after. It happened at a dizzying pace, her catalogue growing with every minute but passed. I could hear Mariah sobs from the bedroom. I could only imagine what she was going through. It was like her life was getting rewritten by an unseenuteur, and she was powerless to stop it. Her history was being stripped from her. We had no way of explaining it.

Jason, you need to see this. Her voice quivered, barely loud enough for me to hear. Huddling around her phone screen, I watched as the news ticket flashed with a breaking headline. Deranged Chicago man kidnaps actress Mariah Sanders. Now there were two famous people in our household. Reading through a CNN article, I discovered that I was being accused of kidnapping my own girlfriend from her non-existent downtown apartments. A neighbour that was interviewed described a brazen and violent daylight kidnapping and ended by saying Mariah was the sweetest person she knew.

It was terrifying. Please tell me this is the world's most elaborate prank, so I can hate you for a week and then get over it. Her eyes were filled with fear. Mariah looked at me with her beautiful pouty legs. I wanted nothing more than to lie to her, to tell her everything was going to be okay, but all I managed to do was give a sullen shake of my head. So this is all real.

Before I could respond, the door flew open from its hinges, wood splintering everywhere. A team of SWAT offices poured in, covered in Kevlar. Grabbing Mariah by the shoulder, I pulled her into the bedroom and shut the door behind us. Somberly, I looked squarely at my love

and said, You need to yell that I have a gun and I'm going to shoot you if they come in here. Until we can figure out what's happening, I need to escape, and to do that, I need time. Begrudgingly, Mariah told the police what I'd asked him.

As I expected, they couldn't risk storming the room, so they'd stall until a negotiator arrived. Babe, this is all so confusing, but hey, you're famous now, so it's something. We both chuckled in between cries. I will find you, and we will figure this out, I promise. I love you forever and always. And with that, I slipped through the window and disappeared into the night. Starting over was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do.

do. But five years later, I've managed to eke out in existence. During that time, the only thing that's kept me going was Mariah. I watched her career explode from afar. She became a bigger and bigger starlings, climbing to the highest echelons of Hollywood. It was painful, but I was so proud of her accomplishments, despite everything that had transpired. Well, that was, until an interview she gave three days ago. Dressed in a graceful white dress, she sat on the couch and spewed lies to a late night host. Oh, your bravery and quick thinking in the face of such danger is truly incredible. You're amazing, Mariah. Simply amazing. America wants to know. How did you do it? Well, Jimmy, I simply fed into his delusions. I did what I know best. I acted.

He believed I was his girlfriend, and I knew if I played the part well enough, I could eventually help direct his actions. When he jumped out of that window, I broke down. I couldn't believe it was finally over. Those words grated against my heart, leaving a permanent scar. Deep sadness was replaced by an immense rage. She'd never spoken about that night before, and I believe that was to protect me. but she was so clearly deluded by her newfound fame she'd do anything to curry favour with the masses as i sit here in a barely running ninety-four chevy i watch her living her new life new man new dog new house history has a habit of repeating itself no matter how hard you try and erase it

Case 4. My wife and I have been married for years now. For most of that time, well, I've slept on the couch. I snore pretty loudly, and she's a light sleeper. So it works out best for everyone that I spend my nights on the couch. I don't mind. Our couch is against the back wall of the living room. From the couch, I can see the living room, the kitchen, and the hallway with the doors to the bathroom, the bedroom and the outside. About three or four times per night, my wife's small bladder gets her up and sends her to the bathroom.

The sound of the doors and movement wake me up pretty much every time. Sometimes I say hi, or sometimes I just pretend to still be asleep. Well, last night, something kind of weird happened. It was probably around two or three in the morning. I was awoken by the sound of the bedroom door opening and closing, and I opened my eye just enough to see the outline of my wife moving in the hallway. I noticed that the room kind of smelled like pennies. But then, the bathroom door didn't close.

I could hear her moving around very quietly, and when I opened my eye again, she was moving slowly through the living room, stopping to examine every little picture and knick-knack along the way. I figured that maybe she was working her way, to the kitchen to get some water and was just being nostalgic or something. I didn't want her to think she'd woken me up, and she was clearly trying to be quiet,

and I didn't want her to feel guilty. No, this goes on for what feels like five minutes, then what feels like ten minutes. As we're pushing 15 minutes of her just meandering around looking at stuff, I finally sit up and ask her, is everything okay, sweetie? She turned, looked at me, and froze. She looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights.

Her eyes were wide, she looked paralysed with fear, like I was some kind of giant monster that had just jumped out from around a corner. Becky, I asked. She screamed, or at least she did everything that would be a scream, but without the sound. It was like she was on mute. but she was clearly screaming. Then she ran.

She ran out of the living room, into the hallway, and straight out the front door. Once she'd started running, I also got up. She was out of the house by the time I'd walked to the end of the carpet where the hallway began. Are you okay? I shouted to the door that she'd left open. At this point, I was more confused and worried for her than anything else. I walked over to the open door and looked outside. but she was nowhere to be seen.

I began walking back to the living room to grab my robe and shoes. But, before I made it back to the carpet, the bedroom door opened, and my wife poked her head out. Did she say something? she asked. I reassured her that I hadn't. I closed the door to the house. I double-checked the lock, and I went back to my couch. I know that I wasn't dreaming. She asked me this morning why I was up

and said that she swore that I'd woken her up by shouting, Are you okay? The knick-knacks were all a little bit out of place, and the picture frame that she'd been holding when I stalled her was still on the floor. I have no idea what happened, but it sure was spooky. I don't think that I'm going to get much sleep tonight.

So, after getting so many helpful comments suggesting things like sleepwalking, burglar, skinwalkers, interdimensional crossovers and ghosts, my curiosity was tickled. I decided to have a sit down with my wife to tell her what happened, and to see if she had noticed anything out of the ordinary. She seemed simultaneously relieved and worried when she told me that she had, in fact, noticed something unusual. She's not normally a calm person, so it was difficult for her to tell me what had happened in an easy-to-follow manner, so I'll summarise it as best as I can.

She said that it had happened a few days before the night that prompted me to make the last post. She'd been asleep in bed when she was woken up by the bedroom door opening. She saw me slowly walk into the room. At first, she thought that maybe I'd come to tell her something. but I didn't say anything, or sit on the bed like I normally would. She said that, at that point, she assumed that I was just being frisky. We used to have a pretty adventurous love life,

and one of the things that she'd liked was for us to start out with her pretending to be asleep. She figured that maybe that's what I was doing. She even noticed that I'd apparently put on a new aftershave, as the room smelled like salty copper ever since I'd walked in. And so she did that. But I didn't pounce. I just pussed around the room, slowly and quietly, looking at stuff. I looked at the pictures on the dresser.

I looked at and even smelled the clothes in the hamper. Then she realized something. She could very clearly hear me snoring out on the couch in the living room. She laid there, frozen in front. fear and trying to wake herself up as I continued to creep around the room. I was deliberately being quiet, but I was also definitely interacting with my environment, and that led to the occasional creak or light tap when something was set down. She had had a history of night terrors and sleep paralysis as a kid,

so she figured that was what was going on. At one point, she says that she whimpered. And I jumped like I was startled, went stiff as a statue, and stared at her with a furrowed brow for several minutes before going right back to what I was doing. Eventually, I just walked out of the room and closed the door. She's pretty sure that she heard the front door being opened and closed as well. She didn't leave the room for the rest of the night. She just figured out that the whole thing was just a nightmare, or an episode of sleeper, Ella. It hadn't really been worth mentioning.

Of course, now that I told her what had happened to me, she's really freaking out. That was definitely not me in the bedroom that night. I've never slept walked in my life. She's certain that it was definitely not her in the luring room two nights ago either. I got to thinking about the smell that both of our experiences had in common. I definitely smelled it before. I mean, like anyone else, I've given my keys or a handful of change, a good sniff a few times in my life. But I'd also definitely smelled it out in the real world before, too.

I distinctly remember catching a few whiffs of it back in November, while deer hunting in the early morning. Around that same time, I caught it while raking leaves in the evening before starting a nice fire. Sometimes over the winter, the inside of the car had that smell in the morning on my morning. my way to work. I'd always given it literally zero thought. We've never been burgled, and the area is really safe. Still, we took an infantry of our staff. There was nothing missing. Everything of value was where it was supposed to be. We looked around the house inside and out. There were no ominous scratch marks along the walls, or anything like that. There was no giant monster tracks outside, just the normal deer tracks.

along the driveway and around the bird feeders. The whole time that I was checking outside, I did have those prickly hair-inducing feelings like I was being watched. I chalked that up to my most recent experience and the scary story that my wife had just told me. There were no critters out and about, not even the handful of squirrels

that always seemed to be around the bird feeders, so I'm sure that I was alone. Either way, I got myself, back inside without dilly-dally. We checked, closed and latched all of the windows. The house has two doors. The back door is always locked.

The front door is never locked because we live way up in the country and, again, it's always been really safe. It's nothing but woods. And I'm confident that raccoons can't work doorknops yet. We made sure that the back door was locked and we locked up the front door as well.

Some people suggested getting a camera. Well, I'm pretty cheap and lazy, but I'll definitely consider that if anything further happens. We've never had anything spooky like this happen before. Well, we're homebound for the weekend, but come Tuesday, I think I'll ask around town and work. Maybe someone else has had a similar thing happen. Maybe some local teenagers are out stealing underpour,

pants and lose change or something. We're going to sleep in the same bed tonight. For her, at least, it's going to be a long night. I'll sleep great, especially since I think that her new anxiety will keep the bathroom trips to a minimum. It's been two nights since the last update. I told my wife about having seen her in the living room, and she told me that she'd seen me in the bedroom.

In both instances, it was definitely not. not us. We'd agreed to sleep in the same bed and to lock the front door. At first night, neither of us got much sleep. She was absolutely terrified, and I'd been totally wrong about the effect that I would have on her bladder. She had to get up to use the bathroom just as much, if not more, than normal. Being scared, she required that I get up and escort her to the bathroom and back. It was a mild annoyance, but I got with. where she was coming from, and I was happy to oblige. While standing outside the bathroom door during one of these late-night trips,

I saw the front door knob start to turn. I had a mini heart attack as I watched it slowly rotate, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief when it clicked against the locking mechanism. Then it did it again, and again, a little harder, summoning all the courage that a fully grown man behind a locked door with another adult nearby can muster. I walked up to the door and looked through the peephole. That was stupid. It was night-time.

I couldn't see anything. As I slowly reached towards the switch to the outside lights, I heard the toilet flush from the nearby bathroom, followed by a rustling and blur of movement. movement outside. I returned to my post outside of the bathroom door, waited while my wife took forever to wash her hands, and then went back to bed. She didn't need to know what had just happened. She was scared enough already. I didn't sleep for the rest of the night. I just waited and listened. I heard the doorknob jiggle one more time that night. I saw people-sized shadows moved past the blinds.

I could just barely hear the back door being jiggled. Then, finally, I heard a loud clang, a bang and a strange, long, wheezing, a frustrated moan. I'd never heard anything like it. If you ever got mad trying to fix something, you throw your tool and shout, ah!

Well, it was like that. But the sound was made while inhaling air rather than exhaling it. The sound woke up my wife, who started freaking out, and neither of us returned to sleep. Nothing else happened that night. In the morning, secure in the safety of the sunlight and the hunting rifle in my hands, I took a walk around outside the home. The door-knob on the back door had been completely broken.

The knob and some bent inside parts were on the ground. It had been turned until it broke. The door was still locked. I had to jimmy a screwdriver into the locking mechanism to get it open. The bird feeders had also been knocked over, but nothing else was out of sorts. I thought it over all morning and afternoon, but I finally decided to tell my wife what had happened last night and about the back door. She'd spent most of the day pacing around, worried, and I was really unsure as to whether I should worry her even more.

As I suspected, that new information sent her over the edge. She wasted no time in grabbing a plastic shopping bag of clothes and heading out the door. She was going to go to her mother's house, about an hour away to spend the night. I would have gone with her. Maybe I should have gone with her, but I had a different plan. I was going to confront whatever it was that had been visiting us, and if it was aggressive or not a person, I'd put it down. I secretly hoped that it was friendly, after all, it had never attacked either of us, despite having the opportunity. At the same time, the back door told a different story. I also secretly hoped to become famous by killing some mythical beast.

About 20 minutes after my wife left, the sun had gone down. I sat by an open window that overlooked the locked front door and waited. I left the outside lights on. Around midnight I got a text message from my wife's mother. She wanted to know if everything was okay, as my wife hadn't shown up yet despite calling to tell her she was on her way. I didn't know what to do. I replied that I would check and then turn off my phone.

I'll deal with that in a bit. I could see my wife walking up the driveway. She walked up to the front door and tried to turn the handle. It was still locked. She looked like a kid who couldn't figure out why an unplugged TV wasn't turning on when the button was pressed. She tried to turn the handle again. I had her in my open sights But, well, I was having second thoughts on shooting

It's not like you see on TV Where the hero hesitates because the thing looks just like a loved one And he has trouble pulling the trigger Maybe I'm heartless But I was mostly worried about myself This thing looks just like my wife What if I shoot it and it stays that way? No coppies going to believe that this wasn't a simple case of a husband killing his wife.

Heck, she'd packed a bag and left to go to her mums, which definitely sounds like the result of a fight. And then, she'd not shown up. Hey, I shouted down in my most assertive voice. My wife froze for a few seconds and then slowly looked up at me. Explain yourself. Is everything? Okay, sweetie. She replied like she was trying to talk to me in my own voice.

It was a mediocre impression of my voice, and each word was said flatly as she inhaled. Without breaking eye contact, she reached over and tried to open the door again. Are you okay? What are you? I shouted back. What are you? you, she said. Are she just repeating me?

No, that wasn't me. She wasn't using my voice anymore. That was my wife's voice. Get away from me. Her eyes never looked away from mine. And now she was turning the handle harder and harder. Stay, back. Stop.

The door handle cracked, and the door started to open. I shot her. I shot it. I don't know what I shot, but it wasn't her. It looks like her, though. I ran outside. The body feels like her. It just doesn't smell like her. It smells like copper and meat.

I called my wife. She didn't answer. I called 911. I just told them to send the police. I didn't tell them why. I don't know what I'll say when they show up. I've got at least 20 minutes to think. If I tell them the truth, they won't believe me.

They'll think I killed my wife. Would an autopsy show something else? That's a long shot. If I tell them she was trying to break in to hurt me, I've got the broken door handles to bat me up. but they'll probably still not believe me. I've got some time to think. Case five.

I'm a fairly well-off guy. I have a good job with decent pay and I'm not unattractive. However, I've not had the best of luck with relationships. That's not to say I haven't had any. More rather, that once I've been involved in, haven't ended well. I've been cheated on, I'm told I have too high expectations and that I work too much.

Not unfair statements exactly, but I made sure everyone was well informed before they began, so hearing that kind of thing grinds my gears. The idea of buying a wife first came up as a joke. I'd been drinking with some mates and explaining to them that my girlfriend had left me over my working late as she thought I was cheating. I wasn't, obviously.

And Braden mockingly suggested. that I just fill in an order form for a wife and see how that went. We tossed around the idea for a while, joking about wife auctions and the misogyny of it. I felt fairly reassured with myself that I did not need to buy a wife. Then I got an email titled, Find Your Perfect Match. Now, normally I would have bypassed such an obvious scam. Then I got to considering what a hoot it would be next time, explaining to the boys that just days after,

discussing it, I got a scam email and gave it a try. And so, I did. I opened the email and followed the link. Most immediately a private browser started downloading onto my laptop. Horrified, I tried to end the program. Unfortunately, it was finished installing so fast I couldn't even keep up. Yeah, I'm also not the most computer savvy in case you couldn't tell. Once the page opened up, it was honestly not at all what I was expecting. I was waiting for the typical horn-style women to be advertised where you pay X amount of dollars for every minute of their time. Or maybe for a million viruses and hackers to start trying to break into my computer

like you see in the movies. Maybe my bank account was just randomly going to be skimmed. I don't know. Well, thankfully, and unsettlingly, it was nothing like that. Instead, I was first asked to fill out a profile form. It didn't ask for anything horribly identifiable. Just age, gender, species, race and sexual orientation. It didn't even require a name.

But mused, filled out the form and was taken to a terms and conditions page. A skim through it, as usual, there was something about payment must be made in full before a partner will be shipped. refunds are not given for return of partner for any reason or for DOA and all contracts are binding and final until termination yeah okay I thought foresight and common sense are valuable tools and I encourage others to use them I however clicked on the accept button was directed to a new page

this seemed to be the advertisement page just in case I wasn't already in deep enough. It went on to explain that, although the partners available were high quality, was important to select your preferences with care as you would only be provided with the closest match. Order a Ferrari, get a chicken nugget, I'm used to myself. Still, the advertisement clip continued to explain the process.

You fill in your details, they fill in theirs, and you would be matched with someone. kind of like a dating site only all sales were final I was half-heartedly waiting for some explanation of where these people were to come from when there was no explanation provided I felt my gut filling with dread as I considered that the partners advertised

were probably traffic victims that was what actually prompted me to keep going I decided that I would have saved at least one girl I could pay for her When she arrived, I'd take her straight to the police station and we get help. I briefly worried about the price of such a venture, before the rational part of my brain asked me if I cared more about a woman's life or money. The decision was easy from there. Once the advertisement ended, I clicked onward, onto the next page, filled with an inflated sense of heroism.

Select your preferences, the next page stated. The list was extensive, and honestly, felt more like ordering an elaborate meal than a human being. Everything was set out in a this or that style. These are some examples of what I mean. Priority for subdued or opinionated. Priority for sex or appearance. Priority for intelligence or obedience.

As you selected options, you'd be confronted by the same characteristics rearranged. priority for intelligence or appearance, priority for subdued or sex, and so on. It took me nearly an hour to go through them all, and by the end I barely remembered what I'd even chosen. Once I was finally done, I was directed to a payment page,

and, much like everything else, it wasn't what I'd expected it to be. The payment was to be made through a company I'd never heard of, but I was relieved to see there were a range of payment options. Credit card was, thankfully, one, but there were other options too. Soul Express. Harvest goods.

I'd never heard of those before. I clicked on harvest goods just for fun since, why not? And quickly realized payment could be made in 238 fresh human hearts, or 375 minors. organs. A sick kind of joke that made me even more suspicious of the site. And as I click back, I assume that Soul Express would be asking for souls. Well, after I'd finished fooling around with various payment options, I chose the monetary option. So, how much does a wife cost?

Well, that depends. You could pay two and a half million US dollars for a one-year contract. 10 million for 5 years 45 million for 25 years or 1.3 billion for lifetime Well, looking over my options I considered how long I might need to build a proper case One year wasn't going to be enough I just hope 5 would

Well my wallet stung as I selected the 10 million I felt a heavy disappointment said Lin When the following page stated Thank you for your time and generous contribution. Please wait as we process your request. It may take seven to 90 business days to complete. A few weeks passed before I accepted the fact that I'd been scammed. My friends and I drank to my stupidity while my bank account slowly recovered.

It was around this time that I received another email. Your order is ready for shipment. I was confused for a moment before I remembered my order for her wife and opened the email to find that she was apparently due to arrive the following Tuesday and I should ensure that I'm home to receive the order when Tuesday arrived

I waited anxiously was something someone really going to show up I didn't know exactly and I realised when I thought about it I hadn't even given an address when a knock on the door came I'm not ashamed to say I jumped a little, but by the time I reached the door there was no person there,

just a two-foot by three-foot rectangular box. It was cardboard and definitely didn't look like anyone could fit into it. I picked it up to carry it inside cautiously, and immediately noticed that it was impossibly heavy, so much so that I couldn't get more than a step or two with it at a time, and mostly ended up dragging it inside. There were no labels on it at all, no instructions, no delivery address or return address, though I didn't pay too much notice at the time as I was focused on opening it quickly. I didn't want whoever might be inside to suffocate, but then I didn't want to stab them with a letter opener I was using either.

To my suspicion, once I got the cardboard open, I found a plastic drum. It was a blue container with brownish red symbols written. onto the inner cardboard surrounds. I didn't recognize any meaning in them, but felt for sure that they were written in blood. Once my initial shock passed, I hurried to open the drum only to find a letter with instructions stuck on the top.

It read, Congratulations on receiving your new partner. Please follow these instructions very carefully, as DOA refunds are not available. Step one. prepare a suitable space bathrooms are ideal pour a minimum of 80 gallons

330 litres of water into a suitable container ensure no light artificial or otherwise is allowed into the room if you do not have a suitable space do not open the drum until one can be provided step two

take your drum into the dark room and remove the lid carefully. Please ensure no light during this process. Pour the content of the drum into the provided 80 gallons, 303 litres, or more of water. Step 3. Leave your partner to grow for exactly 168 hours. 168.

You may collect your partner once the express time period has passed. Please note. some light sensitivity is to be expected within the first week. Should you have any concerns or questions, please refrain from contacting our administration. All the information you should need is listed within the provided menu. After reading the letter, I eyed off the drum suspiciously. In return, it sat there unmoving. Was I really going to do this?

My bathroom was too well lit, but the cellar was perfect. admittedly it didn't take me too long to decide to give it a try. What did I have to lose? I'd already paid my ten million, and curiosity was burning me up. It was only a ten-minute trip to the store and back to purchase an above-ground pool. Just one of those tarp ones propped up by racing, but it was nearly a hundred gallons, so I figured it would work. I spent the afternoon setting everything up,

and waited until nightfall to blindly roll the barrel down a barrel down a little. a dark hallway into a pitch black room. It did roll down the stairs rather violently, and I scrambled quickly to find it, and it seemed intact when I did. From there I followed the instructions to the letter. The contents of the barrel smelled absolutely terrible when I opened it, and it plopped into the water with lumpy splashes,

which only seemed to amplify the stench. I left the room gladly, and put a towel at the bottom of the door to prevent any light entering under it. And now, I'm just waiting. It's been three days. I have another four to go. I don't know what I'm expecting.

I don't know why I'm even crazy enough to try this. I'm writing this just in case something goes wrong. At least that way, someone has some idea of what happens. Wish me luck. To begin this time, I thought I'd answer some of your more pressing questions. I work in the import-export business and have several investments running as well. I'm also really good at saving and I'm an only child so when my father died a few years back, getting his inheritance helped a lot.

Next, to add some context, I'm kind of a feminine guy. Can't grow a beard to save my life. I'm skinny, but I work out so I don't look too emaciated. Basically, my friends have a running joke that I look like a twink. In the same vein, I also have a low sex drive, to the point where I'm almost asexual. And yes, this has had an impact on my previous relationships. This is important to know because it'll help explain the preferences I set for my wife when ordering. I basically prioritized appearance above all.

Then intelligence, sex was the last out of the top three. I don't mean to sound like a jerk, but... I wanted a trophy housewife, you know, someone insanely beautiful that I could show off at work functions, but still be able to come home to a clean house and cook meals. How I expected whatever was brewing in the darkness of my cellar to form into this wonder girl of her wife, I've got no idea. The only thing I can say I was relieved about was that at least it didn't seem to be a 14-year-old human trafficking victim. Better some dark magic or backwards experimental science than an innocent.

However, after I'd followed all the instructions, I found myself going through various stages of uncertainty. Firstly, I wondered if I was completely insane. I had bought something online from a less than reputable-looking websites after clicking a bait to ad email, had a large sum of money to some unknown entity that, by the way, showed up on my credit card statement as paid to Satan, which was obviously someone's idea of an edgy company name, and now whatever I had received was growing in my basement. The smell alone was bad enough. It had been bad when I first poured it into the water. However, within a few days it was entirely insufferable.

The smell permeated through the towel at the bottom of the door and wafted it slowly into the rest of the house. For my own benefit, I avoided areas of the house that were affected, and it's needless to say, I didn't invite any guest so. There was only one thing in my entire life that I'd ever smelt that was similar, and that was the rotten fluids of a stillborn baby delivered naturally after it had died inside a mother a couple of weeks earlier. At this point, the idea that I was maybe being punked, that crossed my mind.

I'd heard of people buying mystery boxes off the deep web, only to find chunks of some of of dead animals and barbed wire inside and thought that my situation wasn't too dissimilar. If that was the case, I wasn't sure I wanted to go and check on whatever was down there. What if I turned on the lights and it was just a few chunks of human flesh bobbing around? How on earth would I explain that to anyone, let alone to the police? This was about the time paranoia set in. It was as if the air itself inside the house had got heavier. pressed down on me with a sticky humidity

and at how low I set the air conditioner I found myself eyeballing the mailman as he walked past and peering out the curtains at pedestrians on the sidewalk somehow I felt like I was doing something deeply wrong and that everyone in the world knew about it mostly though I was worried that they'd smell the rancid odour from outside then I began to wonder about if I wasn't being messed with. How would whatever it was in that barrel turn into a wife? Was I part of some government

experiment? My curiosity got the better of me once again. I decided to go to the cellar door to see if I could hear anything. So, while holding my breath, that's exactly what I did. I walked down the hallway slowly and pressed my ear against the door. At first, I couldn't hear anything. Then I really I realised there was a quiet sloshing sound, as if the water was being moved around slightly. Both surprised and unsettled. I recalled from the door, and in doing so, made the mistake of breathing in. Well, I'm not ashamed to say I threw up then and there, as the smell assaulted my nostrils with a vengeance.

After that, I decided it best to wait a while before attempting to go near it again, though it soon became unnecessary as I began to hear sounds, the cellar without having to get close. Initially, they began so faintly, and I wasn't sure whether or not they were real, but with time they became louder and unmistakable. They were splashing and occasional indecipherable words coming from the cellar. When I'd lie awake in the dim of my room on the other side of the house, I would hear it, the garbled sounds of something horrendous developing in wet darkness with groans of agony and unintelligible mumbling. To ease my nerves, I began to play music through the house, just loud enough to master sounds,

but quiet enough to not have the neighbours call the cops on me. When the day finally came that the timer counted down to mere hours, I began to panic. If there were preparations to be made, I wasn't sure what they were. I managed to find some of my exes' old clothes, assuming that my husband, new wife would need something to wear and bought a decent stock of food. Though I was unsure if whatever was down there would even be able to eat and was assuming it wasn't going to make me its first meal. Then I made up a bed in the guest room and paced anxiously around until the timer showed ten minutes. Then I reluctantly grabbed a towel and made my way to the basement. As I approached

the door, I noticed that the horrible smell from earlier was no longer there. My heart raised, pumping blood through my veins so furiously that my hand was shaking as I put it on the door mop I could taste the adrenaline in the back of my throat. Swallowing my anxiety, I watched the final seconds count down on the timer and then opened the door. I creaked it open slowly, letting the light from behind fall onto the stairs before me. This was the only patch of light, and it served to heighten the contrast of the room so that I couldn't see anything past it.

Hello? Is anyone? Anything alive down there? Please don't eat me, I called, trying to make it sound like I was joking to hide the pure terror I felt looking into the pitch black nothingness beyond the light. There was no answer to my question, so I cautiously made my way down the stairs. The instructions had suggested that my new wife would be sensitive to light,

so keeping this in mind I didn't turn on the overhead lights. Instead used the torch app on my phone to light the rest of the way. When I neared the pool, I held the light up to see a set of reflective eyes just above the water's surface, looking back at me. For a brief moment, I thought I'd grown an alligator or something. However, upon regaining my composure and cautiously peering at it again, I realized there was a woman in the water. She was sitting with only her eyes above it and had long black hair floating around her in the perfectly still calm water. Being confronted with what looked like an actual human being and not knowing what else to do,

I introduced myself. Hi, I'm Jake, I said uncertainly, and when she didn't answer, I continued awkwardly. I'm, I bought you. Still, she made no comment, only watching me with her eyes as I moved a little closer. Do you want to come out now? The instruction said that,

I didn't get to finish my sentence as she started to get, picture this if you can she was stark naked uncoordinated and with seemingly disproportionate limbs half crawling half dragging herself out of a kiddie pool like something from the exorcist

slipping and clawing her way to dry land had I not been so utterly petrified I may have fled the freaking country in one of my export containers instead I stood there frozen like a stun mullet, looking at this humanoid heap of woman crawling her way toward me on the floor. Her hair was long enough that it clung to her body, covering her shoulders and breasts better than I would have expected it to. Not that it really mattered, as I was too horrified to really

pay attention to her nakedness, past knowing her skin was pale and the once clean water that was running off it had a reddish tint. As she reached me, she stopped by my feet and looked up put me, twisting her neck at a horrible angle to do so, before opening her mouth to gurgle out as strangled sounding. She, I nearly gagged then. Bloody water dribbled out of her nose and mouth through pointed shark-like teeth as she spoke and then reached up for me. Still in shock and not knowing what else to do, I offered her the towel.

She didn't take it, didn't even try to take it. So, I awkwardly draped it around her and helped her to stand. The skin was cold to the touch, smooth, almost reptilian, and she was comfortably shorter than me. This was only significant in that it had been a preference I'd selected while ordering her, the comfortably shorter part, I mean, not the reptilian part. When she made no attempt to eat or otherwise maim me, I started to lead her upstairs into the light. She squinted and blinked, turning away from the brightness with a low growl, so I quickly dimmed the lights. However dim the light was, it was better than my phone flashlight, so that was when I was able to properly see her features.

Body-wise, she looked nice. Hourglass shape, despite her arms and legs being a little gangly, probably sea-cup, so nothing overbearing, and the facial features were generally Asian. inch, dark almond-shaped eyes with long lashes, petite nose and mouth, and, as I looked at her, I realized that she actually resembled my ex in a weird, just grew this in my basement from her top of unidentified parts, kind of way. I mean, the match wasn't exact, but they could have been sisters or something. Other things have noted are that her skin was even more pale than I'd thought. I'd even go as far as to say it had an iridescent quality to it, and her eyes had no contrast.

They were fully black. And when I say black, I mean extremely black, like oil were different colours reflected in them. Her toe and fingernails were much the same, oily black, but also long and curved like a predator's claws. Once we made it to the kitchen, I sat her down and asked,

Are you hungry? Thirsty maybe, while offering her a glass of water. There was a long pause as she stared at me before she murmured something so quiet I didn't catch it the first time. I'm sorry, what was that? I asked hesitantly, leaning in closer to hear her better.

Without looking away from me, she repeated herself slowly and purposefully. She whispered. her voice scratchy and dry. I felt my heart drop a little at that point. Of course my new wife was hungry. Maybe she'd like to eat my liver with some farther beans and a nice guante. If nothing else, I was pretty certain that she was about to demand

that I sacrificed some virgins to satiate her appetite. But she gave me no further instruction, so I did my best. The answer to my uncertainty came in the form of the grilled cheese sandwich. which she ate when I presented it to her, so I assume it wasn't not on the menu. To be perfectly honest, at this point, I didn't know what to do. I hadn't truly been expecting a living being to come out of the drum of unidentified lumpy liquid, poured into water and left stirring in the darkness, and yet here, well, here she was.

However, after eating she looked tired, so I took her to the guest room and let her lay down. She didn't seem to know what to do with the beding, and so I ended up sort of awkwardly on top of the bed where I'd folded the sheets over her. I left the room fairly swiftly after that, locking it behind me. To say that this wasn't what I ordered is an understatement. It wasn't even human for all I could tell. Trying to get some understanding of what she was, I decided to go back to the basement and look at the water she'd been in. This time, I turned on the urban. had light and went down to take a look. As I approached the pool, I saw that the water had settled

into two lanes. The top layer was mostly clear and looked to be just water, while at the bottom the thick, reddish-brown sediment had formed. To see if there was anything hidden at the bottom, I decided to stir up the water with a broom handle and drain out as much of it as I could. now I'd like to point out that the water didn't smell until I started to disturb it and then I could smell the familiar, pungent odor of something unspeakable rotting end to my horror I could feel the broom clattering against something on the bottom beneath the fill without thinking I reached into the murky water to retrieve whatever it was assuming something ordinary had fallen in at some point only to find myself holding

a bone. It looked like a human femur. And yes, I did throw up again. By the time the pool had drained, I found a collection of bones, all of which I'm sure were human, a dead cow, a variety of insect husks, and some water-logged herbs that I couldn't identify. I'll spare you most of the details regarding how I disposed of these items, less to say it wasn't easy. It took most of the and I passed out right after. I woke the next morning to the sound of my surround sound TV blasting out adverts and I sprang up to check the guest bedroom.

When I reached the door it was open. The lock broken and she wasn't anywhere to be seen. To say this was unsettling, it was an understatement. I took the umbrella off the coat hanger in the hallway and made my way towards the sound of the TV. As I approached, I could hear talking, not just from the ads, but more like talking as if someone was trying to do a voice jet. The pitch and tone would change as words were said in different orders. It sounded similar to a deaf person speaking, only that the words were becoming clearer with repetition.

I made my way through the kitchen and saw in the sink that there was a mess of blood and teeth in it. I'm sure of what to make of that and entirely unable to process it I mostly ignored that detail and continued on into the home theatre when I reached it and rounded the corner into the room I saw the person speaking was her well from what I could tell she was practicing speaking and when she noticed I was there she turned to face me with a crooked kind of smile To my surprise, her teeth were normal, and suddenly the mess in the sink made a little more sense.

As she pulled them out and grown new human once? The next thing I noticed was that her skin tone was more human, no longer incandescent. In addition to this, her limbs were now proportionate. Her nails manicured, and her eyes weren't fully black anymore, though the irises were still a little too big. Good morning, she greeted me, though looked puzzled as to why I was holding the umbrella. Most important meal of the day is prepared, she announced, gesturing to the table where there was a bowl of cereal overfilled with milk waiting for me. I stared between her and the drowned cereal for a moment,

while she stood unblinkingly waiting for me to sit and eat. Not wanting to anger her, I did sit and poke around at the soggy breakfast, but she didn't seem to mind as she turned back to the TV. In the days that followed, she continued to improve, I suppose you could say. Her voice and speech patterns became more normal. I told her to read, and her meal-making abilities improved. By all accounts, she now seemed perfectly human.

I haven't told my friends about her yet, but last night was the first night we shared a bed. We didn't do anything, if that's what you're thinking, so I can't comment on that. However, I will say that she smells amazing. Her hair, her skin, it's indescribable. I think I love her. I find myself forgetting what she started out as. That's why I thought it was important to update this.

She's just so alluring now. I want to do things for her. I don't want to go out to work, so I can just spend more time. with her. My phone keeps ringing, but so far I've been ignoring it. Last night I just stood by and let it ring out. I did listen to the voice message, though. It was Braden. He was complaining about having not seen me for a while and was apparently calling to let me know that my ex, forget her name now, has been reported missing. In the few weeks following my wife's birth and creation, spawning. I'm not sure what to call it exactly.

She became the perfect wine. There were, of course, minor glitches. For example, as I mentioned before, she had to learn how to speak in a natural manner. Next came behaviour. Small things such as blinking occasionally rather than burning holes into people's souls with an unintentional death stare

or fluttering her eyelids like she was having a seizure when people greeted her. We also had fun learning about simple movement mechanics. Alex, like reflexes. For her moving aside when objects were inbound for impact wasn't a consideration and, yes, it was a little awkward explained to the kids

next door why my wife stood motionless as their stray football smacked her square in the face. It turned out okay though. She just thought she was they just thought she was super metal. In the general public I found she blended in quite well

and I could play off most of her strangeness as an horrific sense of humoric sense of humour. Though I still don't trust her to shop alone. The first day I'd taken her to the supermarket, so I asked her to grab some cheese while I got bread. I came back to a cart overflowing with cheese and empty refrigerator shelves. She also tended to ask if we needed whatever item she'd spotted on the shelf, as she was already loading several of them into the cart. No, sweetie, we don't need four can-op-op-ness. It was a regular conversation we had. Though, that when she asked, she was She answered me once with a sly smile saying,

aren't I always supposed to be right? I had doubts as to whether or not she was really actually joking with me or not. In terms of homely things, and again I don't mean to sound like a jerk here, she was great. In fact, she did more than I expected her to. She kept record for me of important dates and bill payments. It was sort of like having a secretary, I suppose. The house was perfectly clean.

Breakfast was made by the time I got out of the shower every morning, lunch prepared and packed before I went to work, and dinner on the table when I came home. Her meals were wonderful. The first few were a little charred for sure, but a few cooking shows later, and she was a master chef. One weekend I woke up early to treat her to breakfast

before she could make it for me, but my gesture only made her fret, and no amount of my assurances could calm her. She was very insistent that she be the one to make meals for me, not the other way round. I'm not sure where she got that from. I don't remember selecting a will-be-fluous 80s housewife in my preferences. Maybe she picked it up from the TV since she liked to watch a lot of older sitcoms. Nothing really unusual happened, to be perfectly honest.

My phone battery shit itself. The damn thing stopped holding charge. I had more of an appetite, probably because her cooking was so nice, and I was a little more tired most days, though. I was also working a lot harder during the day so that I could be at home at a reasonable time in the evenings. However, as we were settling in for dinner after work on Friday, there was a rather intrusive knock on the door.

Begrudgingly, I got up to answer it. I really just wanted to eat and here someone was interrupting my meal. As it turned out, it was Braden. He pushed past me into the house with a, Oh, I haven't seen you for ages. Didn't you get any of my messages? Where have you been? And what's that smell?

He asked, his lip curling in disgust. Fain disgust, that is, I'm sure. That's the only smell that filled my home at the time was my wife's cooking. Confused, I shook my head. I've been working. I didn't get any message. I told him and then hesitated. Oh, actually I got one.

Someone's missing? I asked, following after him as he seemed to be trying to locate the source of whatever he was smelling. Yeah, man, Zoe, she's missing. Well, her family said they've been trying to call you. Didn't you get their messages? He asked, looking at me like I was crazy. Who's Zoe? I queried, confused.

Very funny You know Zoe You recently ex-girlfriend He reminded me and Then it clicked Like a small piece of a puzzle I'd been missing Suddenly he came back to me All right

Yeah Sorry I've been so busy I haven't got any messages I've I stopped as Braden interrupted me suddenly Yo Who the hell is this? He shrieked, recoiling from the kitchen, startled.

It took me a second to realize he'd found my wife. Brayden, meet Alice, my wife. I informed him as he stared at her dumbfounded. Pleasure to meet you. Alice paused to smile as she greeted him. She was dutifully covering our dinner plates with tinfoil to preserve them, knowing the food would get cold as Brayden I spoke. There was a long moment where he just,

didn't say anything. He paced back and forth the moment, casting glances at Alice, then myself, before finally throwing his arms up and asking, When did you get married exactly? Because I don't remember no wedding. I realized then that I hadn't mentioned anything to him, or explained anything. Hadn't even occurred to me that I had to. It felt to me like Alice had always been a part of my life, and I struggled to remember that she'd only arrived recently. Oh, okay, yeah, you're gonna love this. Remembered when we joked about buying a wife?

Well, I got an email advertising wives. I clicked on it and... A gesture to my wife. Well, she arrived. Marriage papers included. All I had to do was sign them. In my explanation, I, of course, left out the hole and brewed in my basement thing.

He paused again. Hold up. You mean to say you clicked on some dodgy-ass email, ordered a wife online and this is what you got? Yeah, I mean, it was more involved than that, but yeah, that's basically it. I agreed with a nonchalant shrug, though. He didn't seem at all reassured. Oh man, you've got to get rid of it, that thing. It ain't right. She looks like Zoe and she's missing. That's a big fat no, brother. He warned, shaking his head at me and backing away from Alice. His reaction, I thought, was unreasonable.

I have to get rid of it and that thing. Who did he think he was talking about? Alice was a person with rights and feelings, and I wasn't going to put up with that kind of rudeness towards my wife. I asked him to leave, telling him as he went that he wasn't welcome back until he apologized. He didn't seem too fast. I'm telling you, it ain't right. Take her to the police or something.

Drop her off somewhere. I ain't nothing good comes from scam emails. He ranted on his way to the door. I'll be watching what she's feeding you. You look a little thin, too. He added. Seriously not funny, was all I said in return through my tea.

I was angry, unbelievably angry. I'd never been angry like this before. Part of me genuinely wanted to kill him as I slammed the door shut behind him. Where has all that anger even come from? Wasn't like me. Alice and I made love for the first time that night. Something about all the strong emotions put me in the mood in it, and it seemed that she just fell out of her clothes.

I will mention, since I'm sure most of you are morbidly interested. Yes, she was amazing. in the sheets. Well, I won't go into too much detail except to say that she did things in ways I'd never experienced before, and it was, without doubt, the best I've ever had. In the days following, I heard nothing from Braden. It seemed he was unwilling to apologize, and I brushed it off with a, whatever dude, kind of attitude. I also got a new phone, since the odd one was all but useless. If I was missing messages, then, well, but soon I noticed that it too seemed to be have a battery issue so I took it back for a service they told me at the story that it was

going to take a day or two to send it away and sort out so I'd be without a phone until that I didn't really bother me though as I sat down for lunch the next day I did feel a stab of regret about it as I meant I wouldn't get the usual I'll be having a good day text from Alice thinking of Alice on my phone naturally led my thoughts astray to replaying what Braden had said to me I'll be watching out what she is feeding you. I'm not sure why that came to me, just as I was about to take a bite of the sandwich Alice had prepared me,

but it did, and I found myself eyeballing the sandwich suspiciously. It seemed fine. Just your standard lettuce and chicken between two slices of whole-grained bread with mayonnaise. Nothing obviously harmful, so I can't explain exactly why I threw it into the small trash can beside my desk, and instead ordered food from a little stand across the street. As I ate my not-wife-prepared food, I felt kind of strange. It made me feel sick to eat it, and I realized that I was all but inhaling it. Why was I suddenly so hungry?

I mean, I was more often than not hungry these days, but this was different. I was eating like a starving dog. Because of this, I picked up some takeaway on the way after work and ate it before I got home. When I arrived home, however, I instantly felt guilty. Alice had dinner ready for me on the table. I apologised profusely, telling her that I just felt so full from her sandwich that I didn't need anything else and went to bed early. She didn't join me right away as she usually would have. I assumed that was because I'd made her mad by refusing dinner.

But when she did, I could feel her glaring daggers at the back of my head. In the morning I got up and left early without. having breakfast, went straight to the store to see if my phone was repaired. I doubted it would be. I just wanted to get out of the house, really. I was surprised to learn that, in fact, it was ready to go. The guy at the store handed it back to me without really saying anything, just that it was fixed, so I asked what had been wrong with it. He hesitated a moment as if trying to decide best how to broach the subject. There was nothing wrong with it. the battery just needed to be charged, he said carefully,

and I could tell he was doing his best to not out-call me an imbecile for not knowing how to charge my phone. Needless to say, this confused me. I'd put my phone on the charge every night, checked the switch was on, done all the right things, and yet each morning when I woke up, you would only have five to six percent battery. A wave of nausea swept over me as I consider that maybe,

just maybe. Alice was unplugging it after I went to sleep and plug it in again shortly before I woke up each morning. Looking at the phone, I saw that I had a decent amount of unread texts and voicemails, and they were all recent, with the oldest one being just after I'd jop the phone off the repairs. Had Alice been deleting my messages? But these ones only here now because she hadn't had access to my phone. this paranoia swirled in my mind every second for the rest of the day at work I listened to a couple of voicemails

one in particular stood out it was from Brayden hey man look I'm sorry about the other day I'm really happy for you just don't know man she freaks me out her eyes cold like a shot and the way she looks like Zoe I mean I know you got a type

bro, but isn't it just a little weird how she shows up all and Zoe lookalike and well, and Zoe just goes missing? Anyway, that's all I gotta say. We'll talk soon, yeah. I said I was sorry,

just give me a call when you get this. Bye, bro. I didn't call him back but his message certainly stayed with me. It made me remember the discarded sandwich from the day before. Curious, I lend over my desk, to check its position in the bin, and to my horror, saw that it was growing unnatural pink tendrils

that pulsed as they struggled to haul themselves out of the trash. Disturbed, I drove home in silence with my thoughts, and by the time I pulled into the driveway, I decided that I was going to confront my wife. She could speak and reason. Surely we could talk this through. Get it sorely now? Apparently she'd come to the same conclusion as I had Because when I walked through the door She was waiting for me in the lounge With her arms folded and no dinner on the table

The universal sign of a pissed off wine You left today without breakfast Without even saying goodbye She said immediately Okay Yes, I agreed But before I could continue she did All you have to say is okay yet

She yelled, offended, and as she took in another breath to yell, I took my chance. You've been taking my phone off charge and deleting my messages, and I don't even know what you've been feeding me. I blurted out without any tact whatsoever. This caused her to pause. Her mouth snapped shut and she stared at me on blinking. So I continued. What are you? I asked with dry lips.

Where did you come from? Why do you look like Zoe? In response, she now smiled. She smiled a smile that grew. It spread slowly across her perfectly red lips until her teeth were showing and then stretched out impossibly wider. I heard the skin on either side of her lips tear

as her head tilted back at a right angle and her jaw began to open impossibly wide, revealing the inside of her mouth to be lined with rows of curved, teeth leading down into the black abyss of her throats. From her back, her spine seemed to crack outward, breaking the skin and allowing malnourished arms covered in a slimy red fluid to push violently out through her shards. Now, some men might imagine that the worst part of confronting their wives would be the

possibility that she could leave them. For me, the worst part was watching her eyes bulge and split into more eyes like a rapidly dividing cell. I stood unable to move as she transformed from the beautiful Alice into this thing. And once it was done, she seemed to turn to me. Her multiple eyes all somehow focusing on me. If balls can shrink, my did in that moment. Are you sorry now, Jake? My wife demanded in a mocking time.

her voice no longer sweet but deep but raspy. I tried to answer her but my mouth was too dry to form words. Around me I noticed that the walls of my home were covered in fleshy webs. I understood then that she was a parasite grown from a putrid recipe and finally I was able to speak. Yes, I'm sorry. I'm very sorry. I whispered, and this time I knew what I was apologising for. I was apologising for ordering her online, for growing her in my basement,

for ever daring to have raised my voister. It was an agonizingly long moment before the word came to me. Go. She purred, low and long. A form now clicking back into place with a sickening set of cracks in stings. snaps to return to the woman I'd become accustomed to see. You'll be a husband to me. I looked like Zoe because she was your optimum match,

and her nutrients feed me well. She now answered my questions politely, as her tattered clothes reminded me of what she could become if I displeased her. Right. Yeah. But that makes sense. I agreed. unsure of what else to do.

My mind couldn't quite accept that I may have poured my ex's bones into a broth of whatever else to make this thing that now stood before me. Oh, and Jake, if you had a problem with my cooking, you only had to say so. She said pleasantly,

with a smile that made me flinch. I'll see what I can do to change. marriage is hard as it stands i have four years ten months and two weeks of marriage contract left and she wants children all i can say is that i am truly sorry 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 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.