Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S6 Ep296: Episode 296: Houses and Homes Horror Stories

Episode Date: December 2, 2025

Today’s opening story is 'The Group Home Massacre' by the wonderfully talented Jrubas, kindly shared with me via my subreddit for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all: https://www.reddit.com/user/Jrubas/ Tonight’s second fabulous story is the prequel to the brilliant series ‘I Have the Ability to Sense the Demonic’, an original work by the wonderfully talented Dark Adalia, kindly shared with me via Dr. Creepen’s Vault so that I could narrate it here for you all, with the author’s express permission. https://www.reddit.com/user/DarkAdalia/ https://www.reddit.com/r/DrCreepensVault/comments/qu385s/the_lockwood_house/ Tonight’s final tale is ‘Vermin’s Nest’ by the wonderfully talented Corpse Child, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all: https://www.reddit.com/u/Corpse_Child/

Every child deserves to laugh and play, especially those in the hospital. This holiday season, help Campfire Circle bring joy and laughter to kids with serious illness in children's hospitals across Ontario. Donations made to Campfire Circle between now and December 31st will be generously double-matched by Empire Homes. Serious childhood illness changes lives. But so can you. Please give joy to kids who need it most at camfirecircle.org. That's Campfire Circle.org. Welcome to Dr. Creepin's dungeon.

Houses and homes unsettle us because they're supposed to be the safest places in our lives. Sanctuary is built to keep the world's dead. dangers outside. When something feels off inside that space, the betrayal hits deep with an ordinary fear. A creaking floorboard, a door that moves on its own, a shadow that doesn't quite belong. All of it suggests that the familiar has turned against us. Horror thrives in that contrast. A place meant for warmth and rest suddenly feels watchful, hollow, or inhabited by something unseen. The creepiness comes from the sense that the walls remember more than we do, and that we're no longer alone inside them, as we shall see in tonight's three stories. Now, as ever before we

begin, a word of caution. Tonight's tales may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery. That sounds like your kind of thing. Then let's begin. The group home massacre. The man with a disfigured face watched the group home from a bush. his hands bored tightly into fists his heart racing his breath coming in quick hot gasps the house stood warmly lit against the darkness a thin trail of smoke curling from his brick chimney in the falling snow we reminded him of postcards he'd seen merry country christmas maybe or happy holidays hatred surged through him years ago he lived in that house and it was not a happy home it was home to delinquents truance and incorrigible teens cruel vapid sadistic teens the man remembered the taunting and the beatings the fear that came with lights out when other boys were come into his room and hurt him along desperate tear-filled nights at seventeen he left the group home in a broken heap the intervening years were cold and joyless his hatred grew until he could no longer contain it and then he came back in his coat pocket was a knife and jammed down the front of his pants was a long screwdriver those were the weapons he wanted to use up close and personal he wanted

look into their savage faces as they died to watch the life drain from their eyes presently the back door banged open and four boys piled out he crouched lower concealing himself through his the wind-driven snow, he could catch only snippets of their conversation. "'Cold for this,' one said. "'Come on,' another replied. "'Fun!' He watched as one of the boys turned his back, covered his eyes, and started counting. The others scattered, fleeing into the field behind the house.

One, overweight and huffing, holding his pants up as he ran, headed right toward him. The man pulled out the screwdriver, gripped it in his frozen hand. The boy reached the bush and pushed through it, shaking it, panting he dropped down next to the man, without seeing or even sensing him, and craned his neck to peer through the branches. Thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two. The boy was thirteen, maybe, the same age the man had been when he came to the group-home. He remembered the angst and fear, the hormones, and he could practically smell it rolling off the boy in stomach churning waves.

The man shifted, and the boy turned his head. 38, 39. The man grabbed the boy by the back of the head and ram the screwdriver up through the underside of his chin, through his mouth and into his brain, his tongue tacking to the roof of his mouth and his skull cracking like a soft shell crab. Kicking his feet and making strangling noises as blood filled his lungs, the boy's eyes widened. gritting his teeth he twisted the screwdriver and the boy went limp forty-five forty-six the man was shaking he closed his eyes and fought to catch his racing heart the coppery smell of blood hung heavy in the air and he licked his lips fifty ready or not here i come bending over the supine body the man pressed his lips against his neck and drank greedily of the rich blood

he pulled back and let the hot liquid work through him and an idea struck him that taking the knife from his pocket he took the boy's head in his lap and worked quickly when he was done he took the wet skin and stuck it over his face gotcha the counter was there his head in the bush a look of triumph on his mulatto face the man grabbed him by the chin and ram the knife into his ear he didn't have time to scream when he was limp the man dragged him into the bush and heaped him on top of his friend emerging from the bush he tucked the screwdriver into his pants and looked out over the field plenty of places to hide ready or not he called out here i come tracy franklin sat at the counter and watched musedly as roger and liby bumped into each other at one point roger tall and he lanky with glasses and a goatee, threw his head back and looked like he was ready to grab the old woman. You're in my way, Libby, he said shortly. Oh, hush, Libby said. She grabbed an empty pitcher from the counter and shuffled over to the sink.

Shaking his head, Roger opened the oven, bent down and took out a tray of cookies. Libby poured tea mix into the pitcher and filled it with water. Holding it now, she turned around and bumped into Roger again. God damn it. He yelled, nearly dropping the cookie sheet. Watch your mouth, Libby said. Roger, who everyone suspected was gay, practically lived in the kitchen and was fiercely possessive of it. Though Libby or one of the other staffers always cooked dinner,

Roger was constantly making tea, cookies, brownies, anything he could get away with. One time Dave even got him to make pot brownies. Oh, you can't have any of these, he told Jan the other staffer. these are our special brownies jan who was seventy if she was a day put her hands on her hips fine you'd probably ruin them like you ruined the last batch anyway roger had held up his plastic spatula and glad just get out of my kitchen oh what smells good katrina jet asked coming into the kitchen short in turn her black hair spilled down the shoulders of her pink t-shirt she was wearing extremely short shorts and softs and Tracy rolled her eyes cookies Roger said he had the sheet on the range and slammed the oven door he dropped the pot holders next to the sink and went to the fridge a radio Tracy suspected held from the 1890s sat atop it why aren't you working Roger asked and slapped it it came to life music filling the kitchen Libby sat the picture on the counter and turned her eyes

widening when she saw Katrina. What are you doing, young lady? she asked. Katrina grabbed an apple from the basket in front of Tracy and took a bite. Getting a snack. Go put some clothes on, Libby commanded. There are boys around. Katrina, who was already leaving, looked over her shoulder. I know.

Tracy laughed. Oh, slut! Roger muttered. Roger, I'm going to write you up if you keep talking like that. It's true, Libby. She prances around half-naked and shakes her butt. I'm surprised she's not pregnant yet. Whose bright idea was it to combine the group homes anyway? There were two group homes in Barentsville,

both affiliated with the United Lutheran Children's Services Organisation. One was for boys, and the other was for girls. The girls' group home burned down at the end of November, and the bigwigs simply transferred the girls to the boys' home. They didn't have to deal with it. The staff is on the ground, however, knew what was coming. After all, it was inevitable, wasn't it? Brandy boys and girls thrown into the same house.

Whoever would have thought, right? Tracy heard whispered rumors that Tiffany and Stacey had both had sex with one of the boys. A different one, Tracy assumed. Though they hadn't really done anything yet, Tracy and Dave were close. Her stomach fluttered when she thought of him. He was so tall and handsome, with blue eyes, sly little grin tonight maybe she thought imagining herself slipping into his bed after

lights out one of the night staffers came around with a flashlight every 45 minutes to check on them surely they could be done in 45 minutes Tracy knew she could be not mine Libby said now shaking her head and shuffling off to the dining room you don't like having us girls around Tracy asked putting her face in her hands and blinking her eyes prettily. No, Roger replied, scooping cookies off the sheet and onto a plate. You make too much noise. Oh, I think you're just worried about competition. He shot her a dirty look. You can get out of my kitchen too. Going, she said, hopping up from the chair. Beyond the kitchen was a wide dining room. After the right, a door led into the office. Ahead past another threshold was the living

room, lit by the warm spill of a table lamp. Tracy paused in the doorway and glanced from the TV. Once upon a time, a show the girls had gotten the boys into, to the couch. Dave and Bob were engrossed in the show. Bob, small and weasel-like, creeped Tracy out, but Dave liked him. Stacy sat in the armchair, her feet pulled up underneath her, blonde and petite. She was wearing a white t-shirt and checkered shorts. Where's everyone else? Tracy asked. Cat and Sean are upstairs,

Tracy said, without looking away from the TV. And the others are playing hide-and-seek. Well, so a cat and Sean, Bob said with a sly grin. You're thinking of hide the sausage, Dave said. You guys are gross, Stacey said. Oh, Bob looked at her. You weren't complaining the other night. Now, Stacey glowered at him.

Shut up, nothing happened. Oh, so much drama. But Dave was so fine. Biting her bottom lip, Tracy went to him and dropped into his lap. Hey there, he said with a smile. Hi, she said, her heart pounding. He smelled of cologne and aftershave. What you doing?

Watching TV, he said. Oh, she teased. Season finale. He nodded. You? She shrugged one shoulder. I was thinking of going upstairs. Maybe go to bed early.

Dave's eyes widened slightly as he caught her meaning. One thing about him, he wasn't dumb like most teenage boys. I'm kind of tired, too, he said, faking a yawn and stretching. Go on then, Stacey said. You're being loud. Tracy smiled at Dave. You want to go? Sure, and she took him by the hand and led him upstairs.

He found the third boy crouching in a trench. The man tackled him and beat him about the face and head. The boy shouted and tried to fight back, but the man's thirst for vengeance made him strong. When the boy had lost consciousness, the man slit his stomach open with the knife and ripped out these entrails, steam rising from his gaping chest cavity. The man remembered something he'd read once, about a fur-trapper in the 1840s, who killed Indians and ate their livers as a sign of contempt. Putting his hands into the dead boy's guts, he ripped out the liver and ate it.

And when he was done, he made himself vomit onto the ground, and then ate it again. He was thinking of doing it again when he remembered the fourth boy. Getting to his feet, he wiped the blood from his mouth and went off in search of him. The field behind the group home was bull. boarded by a low-end shopping centre whose crowning jewel was a sailor lot. From here he could see headlights on the highway running past it. He remembered looking out his window as a child and thinking that while the world was so close, it was so, so far away too.

When he finally found the fourth by hiding behind a pile of brush, he was surprised to see that it wasn't a boy at all but a girl, maybe 13 or 14, with a plain face and long brown hair. she was petite and wore a black hoodie with dark jeans they were letting girls in now she was so absorbed in watching her front that she didn't see him creeping up to her side he stepped on a branch and she snapped around her eyes going wide bitch he growled as he launched himself at her uttering a small squeal she struggled to her feet and ran heading straight what a stand of trees and then angling toward the house. Realizing her route, the man went around, meeting her as she passed and slamming his fist into her face.

With an oomph, she collapsed to the ground. The man straddled her back, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and yanked. She screamed and sobbed. Ah, your fault, he said, is heart rate accelerating. Oh, you're a fucking fault. Please, she cried. Please, stop. grunting savagely the man had an idea he brought the knife around and started soaring on

her scalp she howled with pain luckily the wind rose covering the noise when the scalp came off in his hand he tossed it aside and admired the top of her bloody skull bits of flesh and strands of hair stuck to the bone the former soft and quivering the latter flipping in the wind the girl struggled under him crying taking the screwdriver out he jammed it into her head with such a force that her skull cracked and split throwing the weapon side momentarily he dug his fingers into the fissure and pulled as though she were a crab and he a hungry tourist the girl shrieked the bone broke a piece coming off in each hand now her brain was revealed pink and throbbing little clouds of steam wafting into the frosty air. The fight had drained out of her. Using the jagged ends of one of the skull pieces like a tortilla chip, he scooped out a water of brain and stuck it into his mouth. As the tremors of excitement passed, he briefly considered assaulting her, but decided against it. The thought repulsed him, so instead he shoved his hands into a cranium, removed the rest of the brains,

and plop them onto the ground. standing he kicked them his foot catching in the goo he slipped went down hard and barked mad laughter until he cried Tracy locked Dave's bedroom door and turned he was lying on the bed his arms behind his head a slight smile playing across his face Tracy's heart caught in her throat he was so beautiful he might even be the most beautiful thing in her life like ever when she was three her mother ran off with a guy who worked at a car wash leaving her alone with her father people would whisper that he used to be a good guy but all through tracy's childhood he was drunk and mean as she grew older she suspected that he resented her for what her mother had done he'd always say you're just like her whenever she did anything displeasing and how she tried not to She was fourteen the first time he hit her, catching her in the chin with a close fist and driving her to the kitchen floor. She was 15 when she decided that she'd had enough and ran away.

She sometimes imagined him sitting all alone in the trailer, nursing a beer and muttering to himself about both of them leaving him, and she hoped he was sad and miserable. The police found her three days after she left and put her in a shelter. She was there for six weeks. mostly the other kids were nice though they were a few that had problems and caused trouble and from there she came to Barrensville

she was surrounded by six other girls but felt totally and utterly alone now looking at Dave on his bed smiling at her she felt what hope joy

loved she didn't know exactly but she knew it felt good oh you're sexy Dave said she blushed her heart going pitter-patter. Do you really think so? Yeah. She went to him and sat on the edge of the bed.

I don't think I am, she said with more than a hint of truth. She was too skinny, her brown eyes too big, her reddish-blond hair too short, barely reaching her shoulders. She didn't know why, but it wouldn't grow longer. Sitting up, Dave looked her in the eyes with an intensity that scared her. You're wrong. He put his hand on the back of her neck and Tracy's side. It was so warm and gentle.

Then they were kissing, their tongues darting coyly into each other's mouths. Tracy'd only kissed one boy before, and she thought it was gross, his slimy tongue caressing the insides of her cheeks. But with Dave, it was different, electric. Her hair turned to jelly, and her heart blasted against her ribcage so hard it was almost painful. She ran her fingers through his hair as he laid her down. His hand slipped inside her shirt, his nimble fingers grazing her. She felt her self-dampen.

He moved closer, kissing her neck and nibbling her ear. She gasped and exhaled, and he worked lower still, unzipping her pants. For a moment, something like terror fell over her. This was it, she realized, her big step into womanhood. What would Dave think of her body? Would he like it? She covered her eyes as he slid down her pants. next he hooked his fingers into her underwear and those came down too the feeling of the fabric moving against her fevered skin exciting her even more she opened her mouth to speak to ask dave what he thought but she got her answer

she jumped a tingling thrill running up her spine oh she sighed it was all she could muster the ties of pleasure were rising up around her threatening to sweep her away long tendrils of crackling sensation crawl up her body and gasping she grabbed handfuls of sheet and bared her teeth lest she cry out and someone here on outside

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Covered in blood and panting, the man crept to the back steps and paused, listening. When he was satisfied that he was alone and unobserved, he crouched down and picked his way up the concrete steps. Amelight fell through a window in the door Peaking in he saw the kitchen Ancient striped wallpaper, cracked yellow linoleum Outdated appliances It was exactly as he remembered it

The countertop was the only thing that had changed In his day it was tan and now it was green A boy in a pair of jeans and a green apron Was rifling through a cabinet over the sink The man tried the knob It was unlocked taking the knife out he turned the handle and slipped inside the warm air caressing his icy face wipe your feet the boy called out without looking i don't want dirt and mud in my kitchen the man closed the door behind him and turned the dead bolt the boy stopped what he was doing liby where are the sprinkles i bought the cabinet a voice called back Libby

An image of the old woman's sunken face danced through his mind's eye Her hook nose The mole on her upper lip Her beady eyes She reminded him of a bird Maybe a buzzard Perched on a branch

And waiting for something to die She had to be in her late 70s Why wasn't she retired yet? Was Jan still here too? As if in answer the boy let out a long sigh Jan My sprinkles I don't know, Roger.

You need to keep track of your own things. You're a big boy. Hatred coursed through the man. Jan was a freaking tyrant. She would walk through the house and make sure that everything was perfect. Beds had to be made with military precision. Chaws had to be done twice. Your clothes were wrinkled or your hair unruly.

She'd make you go back to your room and try again. If you so much as blinked while she was talking to you, she'd ride you up and you'd lose all again. your privileges for days, sometimes even weeks. No TV, no going outside, no hanging out in your bedroom. You were to sit at the dining room table and twiddly your thumbs, or, if you were lucky, do school work. The man hated Jan. From the moment he came to the group home, the old woman had something against him. Maybe she didn't like his face. Maybe it was his voice. You knew. He sure didn't. But when he came to her about the other boys bullying him, throwing

blankets over his head after lights out and beating him in the face shoving him and tripping him she ignored him she didn't care and a grin crept across the man's disfigured face oh he was going to enjoy killing her shaking with anticipation the man started into the kitchen sensing him the boy turned his expression going from put upon to terrified pouncing the man swept the knife through the air and a deadly arc. The tip sliced the boy's throat, the skin parting like the red sea. Gasping and gurgling, the boy raised his hands to his throat and stumbled back against the counter, blood cascading down the front of his apron. The man grabbed him by his apron and stabbed him in the chest. The boy's face paled and he went limp, falling to the floor with a loud

thud. Roger, what was that? Jan called. The man looked up just as Zhang came out of the office. She saw him, jumped, and stopped. Stepping over the body, he went for her, raising the knife. Frozen in fear, she didn't move, didn't speak, though her mouth worked soundlessly. Remember me, the man whispered. Jan's eyes were wide, a wrinkled face agog. With his three hand, the man pulled the dead boy's face from his own.

Remember, Danny Prince. She jerked as if shot, her hand flying to her chest. A loud, low moan escaped her lips as she fell against the doorframe. You're... You're... Jan? Libby asked worriedly. Jan's eyes rolled back in her head.

She slid slowly to the ground. Oh my God! Jan! Libby appeared then, bending up. for the dying woman. The man raised the knife and brought it down, burying it in her neck. She hissed and fell, and then was still. Jan was dead, too. But the man wasn't happy. He was looking forward to killing her, but she robbed him of even that. He knelt down and put the knife to her throat. He was about to push it in when he heard a whisper coming from the

living room oh that's nice don't stop hmm more victims the man took the knife away from jan's throat wiped it on his pants and got back to his feet peaking his head into the lowly lit room he saw a boy and girl making out on an overstuffed couch the boy had his hand down the front of the girl's pants and was kissing her neck passionately her head was strung back eyes closed and lips parted in bliss the man entered the living room moving with the stealth of a cat he was standing over them now so close he could smell the musk of the girl's desire what if we get caught she panted i don't give a fuck the boy replied biting her ear she giggled neither do i she opened her eyes then and saw him and screamed. The boy turned. The man brought the knife around and sank it into the soft flesh of his cheek.

The girl screamed even louder and rolled off of the couch. The man pulled the knife out of the boy's face and stabbed him in the chest. The sound of the front door opening brought him out of his reprieve. He darted into the foyer, past the stairs and out of the door.

The girl was halfway to the road when he grabbed her from behind, spun her around, and dropped her. her onto the frozen ground like a W.W.F. wrestler. The wind knocked from her with an audible gasp. Bitch, slut whore. He wrapped one hand around her slender, pulsing throat and squeezed. She scratched his hand and kicked her legs. He brought the knife up and down. Then the wind shrieked for her. Korn Harker lay back against the bed and closed his eyes.

On top of him, Katrina, Jett, bucked, and thrusted, her pretty little breasts flexing. He gripped her hips and rolled his neck. You just don't give up, do you? They'd been added for almost half an hour, and in that time, she had orgasm maybe six, seven times. She won himself three, which he supposed was impressive for a dude. Four was the most he'd done in a day, but of course that was by himself. but having this sexy girl naked on top of him he could probably go another time oh she was so good so good he wanted to do it again inside her not for a kid just to feel it and she thrust two

three times and then clasped on top of him shaking her pleasure pushed him over the edge and he pulled out just as he reached the mountain for a moment he lay still like his body was jello Katrina was still trembling. She laughed. Jeez. Sean said, suddenly very tired. I'm going to go to the shower, okay? Do whatever you want.

She smiled and got up, gathering her shirt and her panties. Maybe come join me, she said over her shoulder. Maybe, he replied, rolling over. When she was gone, he reached into his nightstand drawer. Took out the leather-bound Bible he kept there and opened it. A hole had been cut through many of the pages to accommodate a pack of cigarettes. Sean's window opened onto the roof, and he often went out on to it and smoked. He figured he'd have one now, join Katrina, and see if he had enough for one more time.

She wouldn't be here forever, so bust it while he got it right. Sean took out a cigarette and got his lighter from its hiding place between the mattress and the box-pring. He was just getting up to put it on his pants when his bedroom door which Katrina had left a jail, pulled closed, forcefully. Ben, is that you? Ben was Sean's roommate,

13 fat and pimply. He was actually a cool kid, but still, you couldn't trust anyone. Oh, if he saw him and Katrina, slipping the cigarette on the lighter into his jeans pocket, Sean went to the door. That are you, Ben. I was just going out of smoke.

Want one? And he opened the door. To the left, past several bedrooms, the bathroom door stood open. The sound of the shower and Katrina humming drifted out. He turned right toward the stairs, and a man was there. What the... The man grabbed him by the throat and lifted him up. Hey, man, let me go.

He threw a punch, hitting the man in the side of his scarred face. What the fuck? Suddenly, he had a knife. Sean's eyes widened. Hey! The man jammed the knife into his stomach. He then squeezed Sean's throat to cut off the screen. In the shower, Katrina Jett lathered her supple young body

and let the hot water sluice over her. She hoped Sean hurried up. She was starting to feel horny again. Sean, you coming. A moment later, she heard him come into the bathroom. There you are, she said. You coming? I'm ready. No reply.

Only heavy breathing. She let the water run over her face and then poked her head out. I... A man with a horrible, misshapen face greeted her. Before she could scream, he jammed his finger into her eye. She wailed as the orb popped and began spilling down her cheek she reached out grabbed the shower curtain and the rings holding it to the rod broke she fell watching in horror as the mashed remains of her eyes stuck to the tip of the man's finger

as soon as she hit the shower floor the man was on top of her the water beating down on him his head and shoulders black against the overhead light when he stuck the knife under her ribs she cried out then the knife was entering her good eye And darkness reigned, forever more. After making love, Tracy lay with her head in Dave's chest, listening to his heartbeat. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders, and she felt safe and at peace, safer than she'd ever felt at home, with her abusive father and her absent mother. She told Dave this, and he squeezed her tighter. He didn't speak, though, but that was okay.

Just having him there, feeling his warmth was enough. later fighting the temptation to sleep she asked are we a thing now of course he replied instantly why wouldn't we be i don't know she did know she was afraid that she was just a lay for him a quick squeeze and release though she didn't mind the idea of casual sex she didn't want that from dave she wanted more she wanted someone to have and hold even if only for a little while "'You're my girl,' Dave said, reassuringly, and she kissed him. "'Oh, it's going to suck when they finish rebuilding the other group home,' she said, settling back. "'I know. I won't have you here. We can visit each other, and it's not far.' The girl's group home was two miles across town, and that wasn't bad, she told herself. They could bite to each other, or even war.

"'I'm about to fall asleep,' Dave said, getting up. if they find her sleeping together we'll never get to see each other again tracy sighed he was right she knew that but being under the covers with him was bliss i have to pee anyway she said she pulled on her pants and her shirt and dave got dressed too in the hall tracy heard the shower running from behind the closed door she knocked gently hello i have to pee do you mind if i come in no answer Damn! She knocked again, still didn't hear anything. Oh well. She opened the door and went in. The toilet was separated from the shower and the sink by a half wall. She went to it and froze. Katrina sat on the commode, her head twisted at an impossible angle. Both of her eyes seeped blood and other less-nameable fluids. Horror rose in Tracy, erupting in a scream. Dave was there in an instant. What is it? What's wrong?

Tracy tried to tell him, but she couldn't speak. It's Katrina. The shower curtain fell from the rod, and a man stood inside, tall, and horribly disfigured. He was wearing a suit and holding a knife. Dave spun around just as the man came out. Shorter than the man, but more muscular. Dave threw a punch, connecting with a man's face and sending him back.

"'Come on!' Dave screamed, grabbing her by the hand and dragging her out of the bathroom. He slammed the door and held it. Tracy was breathing heavily, her heart beating so fast that the world was going grey around her. The man was at the door now, trying the knob. When it wouldn't barge, he slammed against the wood, and then the tip of a knife rammed through inches from Dave's face. Come on, he'll go over the door and ducked away. Tracy followed her. turning when they were at the head of the stairs. As she watched, the man ripped the door open and emerged, a screwdriver in his hand. Hurry! She screamed hysterically, pushing Dave. At the bottom of the stairs, Jan hung from the wall, her chin lolling against her neck. She'd been tucked

in place with a marble rolling pin. Tracy screamed and Dave gasped. The man was coming down the stairs now and Tracy felt faint. Grabbing her by the wrist, Dave led her into the dining room. Libby was spread out on the table like Thanksgiving dinner, various knives, forks and other sharp instruments jutting from her body. Dave led her around the table and into the kitchen. When she saw Roger's head sitting on the stove, Akrid smoke rising up around it, she screamed again. The man was right behind them now. Dave pushed her towards her. the back door run the man hit the kitchen just then and dave threw himself at him driving him back tracy was frozen in place go dave screamed her paralysis broke and she went to the back door grabbing the handle

and turning it was locked shit behind her dave screamed tracy was panicking now she clawed at the lock damn it why wouldn't it work open she shrieked open she looked over her shoulder and her heart leapt into her throat the man was coming into the kitchen his shoulders squared and his jaw set in that second she saw his face clearly the ugly scars the ruined eye the drooping lips he was a study in terror and tracy screamed again somehow she found the dead bolt and threw it back A snowy gust of wind ripped the door from her hands And slammed it against the outside wall She flung herself out into the night The accumulated snow cold against her bare feet

Behind her the man led out a wordless cry of fury She turned as she reached the doorway He paused a moment and then gave chase In the front yard she hit something in the snow With her left foot A rock may be And hot agony snaked up her leg she turned again the man was coming but slowly like a killer in one of those stupid old movies like he was relishing the moment when she turned back around her stomach lurched her car was moving slowly along the road its headlights cleaving the storm she gave out a yell and raised her arms but the man caught her by the back of her shirt and threw her against the ground she screamed and the killer kicked her the tip of his shoe connecting with her

diaphragm and knocking the wind out of her white light burst on the edges of her vision panting now like a boy touching his first breast the killer turned her over and straddled her slapping her across the face you bitch he hissed wrapping his hands around her throat snow stung her eyes she lashed out hitting his ugly face but he didn't move didn't relent the world began to fall away from her growing fuzzy and warm The fight drained from her, and she realized that she was dying. Tracy Franklin hallucinated as she sank into the void, saw flashing red and blue lights, saw the man look up, afraid, saw him fall back as bullets slammed into his body,

saw the worried face of a cop hovering over her. And then she passed out, never expecting to wake again. Two hours later, she did, in a hospital bed. Dave, his arm in a sling, was sitting next to her. The man lied in the heap on the hard ground, snow falling over him, his life draining from seven bullet wounds. How the cops got involved, he didn't know. Maybe someone heard screaming and called. Maybe they just happened by.

Either way, it was over. And he had avenged himself. As he flirted with the edge of death once more, He thought back to his last day at the group home, the day some of the other boys had set him on fire, the day Libby and Jan weren't watching, the day they took him out of the group home in a body bag. With that vision firmly in mind, the man died. Again. The Lockwood House. adalia this evening I present to you a prequel side story said in the same universes I have the ability to sense the demonage I'm not a particularly

religious person I never really connected with the idea of believing in a god or a devil something like religion never really resonated with me until the night a few of my friends and I explored the Lockwood house I might think me a laptop this morning she thought that it might help me cope so whatever here i am typing what i remember i haven't been out of sleep there's a shadow that stands in the corner of my hospital room at night and sometimes i hear voices inside my head telling me to do things and i'm terrified no one believes me they keep stating that my traumatizing experience must be triggering my anxiety and they called it a dissociation or detachment from reality, I think.

Whatever, I know that what I saw in that house was real and what happened to my friends actually did happen. We just wanted an experience. We never really stopped to evaluate the risks that might come with it. Well, I guess I'll start from the beginning. It was Friday morning, and I decided to kill some time in the library across from my... high school. The greatest thing about being in a library was the calming atmosphere.

I leaned forward on the worn sofa and roared my eyes as I turned the page. What? I scoffed. Why is this even a thing someone would think is even remotely attractive? I'm a lot to handle, but I kind of show you that I don't have fun handling me, love. Seriously? I've met drunk perfect hanging outside of bars with better pick up lines than that, I thought to myself. I didn't think it could get any cringier until I read the next line. My heart did an unexpected flip,

startled by his bizarrely attractive smile. I frowned inwardly. You know what? You really need instead of a creepiest stalker boyfriend, a cardiology consult. So annoying, I sighed. How is this tripe a bestseller? What's annoying?

Oh, shit, I squeaked. I sat up and turned around, instinctively about to clog the person, and I realized who it was. Harlan leaned up against the wall with a tilted smirk on his face. He stood between me and the fluorescence. Harlan was a fellow classmate and a friend of Marx, who was an older guy, and I guess Harlan hung out with. Harlan was a tall, attractive guy with an athletic build, short obsidian hair and gray eyes. To quote the main character in the novel, Harlan was the kind of trouble,

smarter girls than I had fallen to with disastrous results and a few regrets. And my cheeks flushed and I closed the book as he cocked his head at me. Did I seriously scare you? He joked, but his smile faltered slightly as I glared up at him. Dude, I groaned.

Don't sneak up on me like that. What? I didn't sneak. He crossed his arms over his chest in protest. No sneaking was involved. I just walked over here. And to be fair, this is a library's silence is sacred in the library, and so technically we're supposed to sneak. We're also the only ones in here right now, anyway, so who cares? My eyes did a pointed sweep of the decidedly empty area before settling back on Harlands with an unamused glower. Yeah, I said.

I'm pretty sure there's zero other people in here appreciate the deceptive aura of calm. "'What are you doing here?' "'Well, actually, I was doing some research for a paper "'I'm writing for English. "'He tightened his grip on his book back. "'I was told I'd find you here,' he explains. "'Why?' I asked. "'I didn't tell anyone I was here.

"'Oh, I've got my ways of tracking people down.' "'When he saw my expression, Harlan rolled his eyes. "'Oh, come on, Kaya. "'I'm just kidding. "'Is it really that weird I happen to be in here the same time as you. Guess not. I'll let you get back to reading then.

Oh, he started. I almost forgot. I mean it's down at the Love Triangle for lunch. I found a cool place for us to Urbex. My friends and I loved urban exploring. Most of the time it was exciting and exhilarating. Sometimes it was a challenge. Some places were remote enough

that you could simply walk in through the front door like a welcome visitor. Other times, we'd be forced to climb up over fences or crawl through windows. This is one time we decided to check out a drainage tunnel because a few people have sworn they heard ominous laughter coming from it. Water seeped into our clothes and we shivered at the coldness. I remember that I cracked a joke about the movie It, when we suddenly heard a loud boom right next to our heads. I have no idea what cause that sounds, but I doubt that it was anything paranormal. I was in the middle of stabbing in a large crouton with my fork when Harlan, Alby and Jessica

took their seats at the table. "'Hey, Kai, Albi said, as he sat down beside me. Albi and I have been friends since we were little. He was a skinny black guy with a box fade haircut and light brown eyes. We were neither popular nor unpopular. We were what some people called is drifters, and according to Alby, those whose social standings meant that if he made random eye contact with someone in the halls, he'd probably get a nod back and maybe even a quick, hey, what's up? If you didn't know us personally, you'd likely assume

that we were siblings, especially with the way we acted around each other most of the time. What took you guys so long? I asked, pointing my fork in his direction. That's my fault. I'm sorry, he grumbled as he unzipped his lunch bag. Mr. Goldblum chastised me for like ten minutes. "'To be fair, you were looking at your phone in class,' Jessica said. "'Gessica was Alby's girlfriend, a petite girl with long blonde hair and hazel eyes. "'Oh, that wasn't the only thing.' "'Alby's side, then.

"'Oh, you're not wrong, but he's kind of an asset.' "'You should use that filter once in a while,' Jessica replied. "'Oh, baby, since many of you know me to have such a filter.' "'Please!' I scoffed. you just choose not to use it. Alby gave me a frown and tossed a baby carrot my way, which I was able to dodge easily. Harlan cleared his throat as he pulled out his phone.

So, um, should we get to it then? From what we could find, the Lockwood house had been abandoned for years now, but a few people who've walked the trail close to the place have claimed that they could see the spirits of the family walking around inside, and others had even heard music coming from the house. When they went to investigate, there was no one inside. In 2010, Ethan Lockwood brutally murdered his wife, Anna Lockwood, and her parents Stephen and Isabel Thompson in the middle of the night.

Authorities found Anna's parents dead in their bedroom. Both of their bodies were in pieces, and their daughter's body was found in the basement. Anna had multiple blunt force head injuries, and what's worse, her eyes and tongue were missing. Ethan's body was found in the living room with a shotgun beside him and a deep laceration on his neck. "'Get this,' Harlan said as he scrolled down. "'There was a survivor, a ten-year-old boy.

"'He also had a twin brother, but he was never found.' "'Holy crap. "'What happened to the boy who survived?' "'I don't know. "'I guess that part was kept confidential,' Alby said. "'For the boy's protection, I guess.' "'Oh, poor baby. jessica frowned so harlan asked you guys up for it we all crawled into harland's truck around six p m and headed to the lockwood house

abby took his video recorder and held it in front of his face hey what's up guys girls and non-binary folks alby spoke with conviction as he stared wide-eyed into the video recorder we're going to prove the ghosts are real I rolled down the window and glanced out at the scenery. I laughed to myself when we passed a large cornfield. Guys, it seriously looks like we're going straight into a modern-day horror film. It really does, Jessica agreed. I can already feel this place. I'm beginning to sweat all over.

Alby exclaimed as he turned his camera to the window and then back on himself. Like something about this place, isn't right at all. That's pretty understandable, considering. Harlan said, turning down a gravel road. We're going to receive a ton of views for this. Arby smiled. He turned the camera toward Harlan, who waved back from the rear-view mirror. Dude, Harlan chuckled. I bet some of these viewers are going to think you're crazy, because you're willing to allow something to throw you across the room and possibly murder you for content. He pulled up. to the gate in front of the two-story colonial home. There was already a green van parked outside the gate

of the property. Mark greeted us at the gate with a colourful bottle of vodka. Mark was an average-looking guy in his early 20s with shaggy brown hair and brown eyes. He raised the bottle in his right hand with shot glasses in the other. "'Hey, guys.' Mark handed each of us a shot-glass. Did you get here all right? Oh yeah, I've driven past this place a couple of times. Didn't even need the GPS, Harlan said. Oh, this definitely screams illegal, I commented, pointedly toward the large house. Only if we get caught. This place is abandoned, so I doubt we'll get into any trouble with the law, Harlan says I'm giving you alcohol

And you're more worried about breaking and entering Mark laughed then Abbey took his shot and made a face This tastes like too concerned Fuck me Ew Jessica grimaced Well Harlan and I laughed

Mark only snorted After we'd had our shots of vodka We got ready We just grabbed a headlight In order to keep our hands free gloves and disposable face masks and placed them into our backpacks along with the first aid kit

just in case Mark had been urbexing for quite a while and he was always prepared with supplies just in case anyone forgot to bring something so what happens if we're not alone in the house Jessica asked well even though urbex sites are

technically abandoned that didn't mean you wouldn't run into other people inside like squatters or addicts, and they may not react well to seeing a stranger in their space. Well, that's a good thing I brought this along, Mark said. He pushed his jacket aside and revealed a handgun tucked inside its holster. Holy crap, man, Harlan said. I can't believe you brought a gun, Alby replied.

Jessica and I were speechless. It's a good idea to bring some sort of self-defense tool just in case your physical safety is threatened. But bringing something like a gun raises the risk of you accidentally injuring yourself. Of course I did. It's always good to carry protection, Mark explained. A few minutes later, the Fivers walked up to the large, rusty gate.

With a little bit of work, we each slipped through the bars and headed up to the house. You know those haunted attractions where people dress up in order to scare the shit out of you, except his actual demons, and they're going to steal your soul. Jessica smiled beside Alby, who fretted his fingers through hers. It's actually kind of thrilling. Awesome, Harlan smirked.

I'm glad you're so optimistic about it. I try to be. He stepped onto the porch, which wrapped around the front of the house. The paint on the door was chipped with age in places. Are you guys ready? Holland asked Once we enter this house We'll possibly become vulnerable

To any demonic presence That might reside here I roll my eyes If I'm in serious danger I'm getting out I'll throw myself out of the window if I have to And I'm on Kaya's team Jessica agreed

Team rational What Risk getting a broken leg I'll be asked Better a broken leg than having you soul taken by some demonic entity i replied all right guys let's do this harland said and he opened the door and the five of us headed inside the front door opened up into a foyer straight ahead of us was a staircase that led up to the second floor there was a spacious living room to our right and a dining room to our left and from there

an alcove entrance that led into the kitchen i could tell that this place had been abandoned for years there were cobwebs and peeled paint on the walls there were remnants of furniture left ripped dismantled and stained which lay disorderly on the floor of the living room reminding me of death this had once been the home of a happy upper-class family full of life and now that was replaced by the ghosts of the past vermin spider's dirt and trash. The smell of rot and the taste of regurgitated food made me grimace in disgust. Why hasn't anyone fixed this place up and put it back on the market? Jessica asked. Who really knows? Arby replied. Hello? Harlan announced as he twirled on his heels. Are there any spirits here?

I glanced over at Harlan with a look, and he shrugged. Is this what you guys imagined? Mark queries. Sure, minus the dead bodies. I then walked into the living room and spotted a mid-century record player console propped up against the wall next to a grand piano. There was a record still on the turntable. You belong to me by patience and prudence.

Hey, come check this out. Out of curiosity, I placed the stylus and tried turning it on, not really expecting anything to happen. Well, I jerk my hand away when it began. to play i quickly took the needle off a little creeped out holy crap that scared me that thing still works i'll be asked as he inspected the record player well that song is kind of sweet no no it isn't jessica frowned it's a kind of song you'd hear while being tortured to death after we'd goofed around a little bit we all decided to begin exploring around the house

mark started up the stairs and asked if anyone would like to join him i'll join you man harland said he gave me a quick wink before heading towards the stairs with mark while i glanced over at alby and jessica as they disappeared down the hall i was alone I walked over to the piano and carefully lifted the lid up to reveal its keys. My fingers traced the lines in between them and pushed down lightly on a few. The deep sounds reverberated around the room. My eyes drifted up to the small picture frame sitting on top of the piano. I absentmindedly bit my bottom lip and reached up to grab the frame. My fingers trailed across the picture, leaving an oily impression against the glass that held the picture in place.

A family of four stared back at me, and I realised it was Ethan, Anna, and their twin boys. I was so focused on the twins that I almost didn't hear my phone alerting me that I had a new text message. It was from Alby. Me and it's down in the basement. I want to show you something.

What is it? There's some cool shit down here. Hurry up. I rolled my eyes, and placed my phone in my pocket as I made my way down the hall. I paused at the top of the basement stairs. I could hear Jessica and Alby, and the beams from their headlights were bouncing around.

Alby? I called out. Yeah, Kaya, we're down here, he replied. Come on down, we have something to show you. All right, I'm coming down, hold on. I carefully descended the stairs and turned the corner. so what did you want to show me my voice died in my throat it was dark down here and my friends were nowhere to be seen i was gripped by a sudden sense of unease i stood near the stairs and turned on my headlamp hello abby this isn't funny dude what answered me was silence absolute silence I was alone or I thought I was until my light fell onto something moving a few feet in front of me. It was an androgynous-looking kid around my age, with pale skin, shoulder-length black hair, and violet eyes.

They wore a long-sleeve, gothic cloak poncho, over thin black leggings. Their lips pulled back into a malicious grin as they came closer to me. I washed in horror as their eyes rolled to the back of their head. and their mouth split open wide, revealing sharp teeth. They reached out for me, and I screamed in terror, and my instincts finally kicked in. I bolted up the steps and stumbled into the hallway. I ran for the front door and tried to leave, but it wouldn't open.

What the hell? That made no damn sense. My heart sank into the pit in my stomach, and suddenly I felt something touched my shoulder. I screamed, ready to defend myself. Hey, hey, stop, it's me, Alby. I stopped struggling as my eyes refocused on the familiar faces in front of me. Alby, Jessica and Harlan stared back at me with confused alarm.

Are you all right? Holland asked. What happened? I shook my head and quickly glanced behind them at the basement door. But there was nothing there. I know I hadn't imagined it. I turned my attention back to my friends. I saw something down in the basement.

I want to leave now. What are you talking about, Kaya? Hold up. Did you see something down there? Holy shit. The ghost didn't think one of us would see them, but we did. Hey, can you... Before Alby could finish his sentence,

I roughly pushed him away from me and turned back to the door. Damn it, Alby. I don't want to be in this freaking house. anymore. It won't open? Why won't it open? Seriously, Kaya, what the hell? I'll be asked, almost annoyed. Just relax, Kaya. Let me give it a try, all right. Harlan offered calmly. He grabbed the knob, but it stayed shut. What the hell? See, I told you, it won't open, I hissed. Why do you mean it won't open? Let me give it a try. And Alby shoved his way past us.

He motioned for us all to stand back, and we watched as he tried to use his whole body against it. Maybe the door's jammed, Jessica exclaimed. Let's chill out. The front door isn't the only exit out of this place. Jessica's right. Let's try the door in the kitchen, Harlan said. We entered the kitchen, and Harlan quickly made his way over to the screen door that faced the forest. and then he cursed under his breath.

Damn, nothing. Hold up, guys. Where's Mark? Alby asked. Harlan quickly pulled his phone out to call Mark when we all collectively got a text from him, reminding us that we'd set up a group chat for easy contact. Harlan glanced back at me with an odd expression that I couldn't name.

I opened my text, and a sharp stab of dread settled in my stomach. I'm down in the basement, Harlan. Where are you? Harlan, is that you? It's not funny, man. Harlan texted Mark that we were all in the kitchen. I watched as the three small dots indicated a text bubble pending. Before it disappeared, and then Harlan's cell phone rang. He answered and placed.

Mark on the speakerphone. What hell did you mean you're all in the kitchen? I definitely heard your voice down here. Harlan cursed and told Mark to make his way to the kitchen. Harlan started toward the basement and we all followed right behind him. Before we could reach the stairs to the basement, however, the door swung shut and the force of it knocked us backwards. We heard Mark's gun go off several times, followed by his

piercing screams of terror, before they were abruptly cut short. In our inebriated panic, I failed at the last second to realize we were all running in different directions. I remember running up the stairs and locking the bathroom door behind me. My heart pounded painfully against my ribcage as I fumbled for my phone, thankful that it hadn't fallen out in my pocket. I whirled myself to control my sobs and called 911. but for some reason my call wouldn't go through no no no fuck please no i collapsed against the bathtub and cried into my sleeves paranoia nearly consumed me once i thought of my friends and every horrible

scenario when i received a text from alby when i looked at it confused i wiped the snot from my face and quickly texted him back how in the hell was i able to receive his text but i couldn't get a hold of the cops. Apparently, we can contact each other in this house, but our phone service seems to be cut off from the outside world. Where are you? What the hell is going on in this place? I'm in the upstairs bathroom.

Do you know where Harlan and Jess are? Jess is with me. I don't know where Harlan is. My stomach dropped, but before I could reply, I'll be sent another text. And what I read made my blood run cold. There's something moving in the hallway outside the room we're in. Stay quiet and keep your phone on silent. If we need to contact each other, use text.

It was around 30 minutes later when Albie replied with another text updating me with their situation. The thing stalking outside their room a while ago was gone now and it hadn't come back. we're going to make our way to you stay where you are okay be careful slowly got to my feet and set my phone down beside the sink and took a deep breath to level my breathing suddenly i had something pound against the door while i screamed and stumbled backward holy shit "'Keyer, it was Harlan. "'Kair, is that you? "'Harlan? "'I collected myself and made my way over to the bathroom door. "'I walked into the hallway, relieved that I wasn't alone anymore.

"'Harlan was safe, thank God. "'Oh, my God, Harlan, I'm so glad you're—' "'I gasped, and I stumbled forward as the door behind me slammed shut. I felt a sudden wave of dread wash over me as my eyes swept up and down the vacant hallway. Whatever was keeping us here had tricked me. I quickly tried going back into the bathroom, but it wouldn't open. Not only that, but I'd left my phone by the sink. Oh, damn it!

I needed my phone. It was my only way to stay in contact with my friends. And how was Alby going to know where I was? I had two options. I could try and make my way to Alby. or find another place to hide. My heart felled loudly in my ears as my headlamp bounced off the walls, chasing nothing more than shadows. I stuck close to the wall as I made my way down the hall.

From somewhere down the hall I heard a voice call out. It was Alby's voice telling me to come over to him. I hesitated for a moment, or if it was another trick. It definitely could be since whatever is toying with us was capable of mirror. and voices. What if it really was, Alby? Regardless, I had to go past the room if I wanted to find Alby or another place to hide. Gaya, we're in here.

Albi whispered to me as I got closer to one of the bedrooms. I hesitated before I stepped inside. Oh, the bedroom smelled awful, right rotten meat hung out in the sun for too long. My headlamps light swept the room until it landed on a low figure lying face up on the bed. Alby? I whispered tentatively. My voice sounded thin like old paper.

The figure on the bed didn't answer, but when I crept closer, I slipped on something wet. I glanced down at the floor. It was blood. A trail of blood led in from the doorway all the way to the bed. Oh my God!

I screamed. My stomach rebelled. and I heaved out my lunch until I couldn't expel anything else. My throat burned as I wipe my mouth and my chest hurt from sobbing out his name. Mark laid sprawled on the bed. His abdomen was ripped open

and what remained of his entrails spilled all over his body like a gory blanket. I stumbled backward, I fell against the door, closing it shut. I was about to leave when I spotted the gun, under Mark's jacket. Oh God, this was probably the worst decision ever,

and the likelihood that this was yet another trick was high, but I needed something to protect myself with. I've watched Mark use it before when we all went camping a year ago, so I kind of knew how to use it. I steeled myself and started toward the bed. The closer I got, the more I could see the damage done to his body. his abdomen and chest cavity were open and hollowed out the skin looked like it was rolled back torn and ragged

his sternum was completely gone and a few of his ribs were cracked so they protruded from either side of his body like fangs half of his bottom lip looked like it was chewed off and his left ear was missing I shook my head and tentatively reached out for the gun just as I grabbed it I felt something gooey covering the grip of a gun

I yelped and dropped it on the floor I cursed and bent down to pick it up once I did I wiped the substance off with my sleeve with a grimace and made sure the safety was on I was tucking it into my jacket pocket when something dripped onto my hand I looked up and saw Mark or what used to be Mark

looming over me from the ceiling like Spider-Man. His eyes were oily black, his face twisted in an agonized and vengeful expression. Before I could move, he threw himself at me. Somehow I managed to dodge him and wrenched the door open, hitting Mark as he lunged at me. The blow was hard enough that it sent Mark sprawling across the floor. I rushed out of the room and back,

into the empty hallway. I took a chance and looked back, but Mark wasn't there. When I reached the end of the hallway, I felt hands grabbed me and pull me around the corner. I opened my mouth to scream, but a hand clamped over my mouth, silencing me. Panic cut through my body like a hot blade, and newfound adrenaline flooded my system as I twisted and shoved at the person holding me immobile. care stop alby hissed it's me i turned around my eyes widened with tears as alby released his hand from my mouth and jessica pulled me into a hug as i told them what had happened alby pointed towards the stairs a motion for us to follow he then led us into the fire we heard movement in the basement so as quickly

as quietly as we could we crawled inside a closet across from the living room "'What are we going to do?' "'Jessica asked. "'You have no weapons.' "'I found this on Mark's body,' I exclaimed as I showed them the handgun. "'Alby then got to his feet. "'Oh, crap. "'I'm going to be right back.

"'I left my camera in the kitchen.' "'What? Hell no!' I hissed. "'Splitting up was a terrible idea. "'Risking his life for that damn camera. "'Was he an idiot?' just stay here all right kaya keep that gun out he said with no room for an argument whatever this thing is he can mimic our voices so we'll need a password to distinguish them from us he took out his phone and typed last alliance after he left i crawled over to the door and locked it i sat down next to jessica who was sobbing i turned to her and placed my palms to her tear-stained face. Hey Jess, we'll make it out of here, all right. I promise. Jessica shook her head and pushed my hands away from her face. Don't say that shit to me. We're going to die here, Kaya. She hissed. Why is this

happening? I want to go home. I sat back against the wall and sighed. Ten minutes later, I heard movement coming from outside the room. I quickly got to my feet and placed my hands on the door. "'Last alliance,' Arby whispered, rather quickly. "'Hurry up and let me in.' "'I hadn't even released the doorknob when Alby pushed past me "'and helped Jessica to her feet, without much protest on her end. "'Shit was him all along. "'What are you talking about?' I asked.

"'I got it on camera,' he whispered frantically. "'The reason he brought us out here wasn't to—' "'Wait, shit. He was breathing hard. He moved toward me and shoved the camera in my direction. Here, hold on to him for... His sentence was cut off abruptly as the thing that used to be Mark drilled his fist into Alby's chest from behind.

Alby's eyes widened as his mind had come to the realization of what had happened. Mark dropped Alby's body on the ground and his lips twisted into a manic grin as he examined his blood-covered arm. He was spying on us, Mark said, but he didn't sound like Mark anymore. His voices sounded like several overlapping, fighting for center stage. He didn't think that we would notice,

but we did. We screamed, and holding onto the camera, with one hand I pulled her toward me with the other quickly. We couldn't save him, and I knew that if we didn't move now, we would end up just like them. Jessica and I bolted down the hallway and back up the stairs. We found an empty room that must have been used as a personal office at one point

and barricaded ourselves inside. I cursed when I noticed the room we were in didn't have a window wide enough for us to escape through. I sat against the wall beside Jessica, who sobbed into her sleeves. I glanced down at the camcorder, which felt heavy. in my hand. What did Alby capture on camera that had him so upset? I turned it on, and what I saw on the screen made my blood run cold. It was Harlan, the kid from the basement who stood beside Harlan, and the thing that used to be Mark. Harlan was speaking to him, but it was in a strange language that I couldn't understand. After he was finished, the thing that used to be Mark

knelt down as if Harlan was some kind of royalty. And that's where the video stopped. And I heard that thing right outside the room we were in. He was telling us that no matter what we did, we were not leaving this place. And a few seconds later he broke through the door, pushing the desk and chairs out of the way with ease. With the force, one of the chairs knocked me to the floor.

He released a sick and twisted laugh. and stalked toward me, eyes filled with malice. Jessica grabbed something heavy from the floor and chucked it at Mark. Mark was startled for a second, and then slowly turned his attention to her. She yelped and frantically swept her eyes around the room for anything she could use as a weapon. He lunged for her, and they collided to the floor. I fumbled for my jacket zipper for the gun when I was too late. I watched in utter horror as he ripped into my chest.

my friend, her screams of terror and agony will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. I pulled myself to my feet, my back bumped into something hard, a metal filing cabinet. Mark turned his attention back to me, but before he could reach me, he tripped over something and fell to the floor. I shifted, and using my whole body weight I managed to tip it over. it landed on top of Mark with a sickening crunch of bone and viscera I slowly made my way to Jessica's body and clasped to my knees

I clutched at my own head and screamed until it hurt at that moment all I wanted to do was crumble in defeat my voice had now broken into heavy so loud and ugly that I almost didn't hear Harlan's footsteps behind me Guy is that you he called

out to me, his voice full of worry. I was hardly listening to him. This was all his fault. Rage spiked through me like a knife to my gut. It twisted and turned until I was all ground beef inside. I had the sudden urge to pull the gun from my jacket and, no, I had to calm down. Maybe if I feigned ignorance, I still might have a chance to escape, however slim that was. He bent down and I let him pull me along without protest His eyes forward I slowly put my hand back on the gun We were almost to the kitchen when Harlan turned around

And leaned against the wall So, you know, don't you? It wasn't a question I slowly pulled out the gun, unlocked it And trained it on him He stared at me with an unsettling expression, and I could have sworn his eyes were black. I suddenly felt an intense pressure poured out on me. I could feel a miasma of something intense as his eyes bore into mine.

My arms trembled with the effort of keeping them aloft. The gun clenched tightly in my hands like a lifeline. Oh, I couldn't falter. I knew that if I did, even for an instant, Harlan would undoubtedly kill me. Oh, don't be like that, Kaya. You're not getting out of this house unless I say so. So let's just chat. I shook my head and raised the gun to his chest. And for a brief moment I caught a glimpse of a surprised expression on his face when I pulled the trigger. The sound of the gun shot reverberated around me.

I pulled the trigger again and again, but the gun was empty. I dropped it to the floor, my hand shaking. He glanced down at himself. well would you look at that you managed to get me through the ribs good job but i was off running before harlan even finished his sentence however he wasn't coming after me at least not yet it figures i couldn't leave this place so he had no reason to put much evidence of the chase i stumbled through the house catching myself on overturned furniture in order to keep my balance as i made my way towards the stairs. I tripped over something and I caught myself against the wall across from the stairs.

I paused from a moment to catch my breath. The house seemed to resonate with his manic laughter. I glanced behind me and I felt a cold wave of dread as he sauntered toward me down the hall, hands in his pockets with an almost amused expression. Where do you think you're going, Kaya? He asked. Didn't I tell you before? The words There is no escape Suddenly appeared All over the walls in blood

I cursed And pushed myself off the wall And bolted up the stairs Down the hall And into one of the bedrooms And quickly closed the door I looked around At what was once a child's room

There was a twin-sized bed In the centre of the room A night stand across from the closet And a bathroom I spotted a decent size window And I ran over to it but it wouldn't open, and I cursed when there was nothing around me to break it with. Without any time to come up with a plan, I quickly slid underneath the bed and turned off my headlamp.

I immediately cursed at myself again. For the places to hide, I chose the first place anyone would look. I contemplated whether or not to find another hiding place, but before I could move, I heard him make his way down the hall, singing that creepy-ass song. my honey I know with the dawn that you'll be gone but tonight you belong to me

just little hold me and the bedroom door opened I covered my mouth and tried to silence my breathing hoping to God that he wouldn't find me under the bed I watched in fear as he closed the door behind him and made his way over to the bed it dips slightly as Harlan's weight sank on to it He told me things I didn't want to hear, and more.

This monster, this demon, slithered into our lives just for all this to happen. My eyes widened, and I tucked my arms to my sides. The wooden bed frame gave a protest above me as halen laid down on top of it. And then he sighed, almost for long. This was my brother's room, you know. coming back here brings back so many memories right after he said that i felt something prickle behind my eyelids i shut my eyes tightly as gruesome scenes appeared inside my head there was so much blood an image is shown of a young boy in pajamas stalking through the house with an axe in his hands picking off his family members one by one doing things a normal child his size wouldn't be able to do but harlan was anything but not I felt bile rise in my throat, but I managed to keep it down. The final stage of grief is acceptance, Kaya, he said.

His cruel voice brought me back to the present. You have a lot of spirit. I like that. I'm also in a good mood, so I'll give you two options. You can either die here, or you can become an important piece in my domino set. You should be grateful that I'm even giving you a number. option. So, what's it going to be? I opened my mouth and then closed it again. What was I supposed to say to something like that? What was going to happen to me if I said yes, if I said

no? A low growl, yes, a growl, rumbled above me and I felt something snagged my ankle. I panicked, my fingers tore into the wooden floor as I was dragged out from underneath the bed. I was thrown across the room, and pain shot my back as something bit into my spine. Harlan straightened up and started toward me. I quickly averted my gaze, panic swarming all over me like a hive of angry bees. Why are you doing this? I asked. My breath hitched between sobs. Harlan knelt down in front of me. Hey, hey, look at me, Kaya. An absolute terror gripped me as he forced me to look at him.

His features weren't human. The light of the moon highlighted the inhuman plains of his face. Black, spidery, thread-like lines creeped around his forehead and right beneath his oily black eyes. His mouth had split open, wider than any human mouth was capable of. His nails grew long and sharp against my chin. It was mesmerizing, fascinating almost, by watching a lion's face

before it tears yours off Suddenly I couldn't breathe My lungs felt swollen and inflamed My hands came up to my throat As I coughed and weased Was this an asthma attack No

No It was Harlan When I ask you a question Do you want to answer it with another question Do you understand He snarled His features calmed and he looked human again.

And whatever power on me broke, and it allowed me to inhale sharply. I gasped. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to rage. Instead, I dropped my hands on my thighs. I wanted to live. Kaya, honey, my mom said as she came into my hospital room.

You got someone to see you this morning. One of your friends from school, I think. I placed my book down on the table beside me. She bent down and gave me a kiss on the forehead. And he's very attractive, she whispered. It's not every day at all handsome boy comes to sit by your bedside. I nodded and gave her a small smile. It drooped just a little when Harlan came around the corner with a bouquet of flowers.

My mum smiled at him and walked toward the door. I'll just leave you two alone. What'd you say your name was again? my name's harlan he said as he stepped forward harlan lockwood oh nice to meet you harlan she said smiling back at him before exiting the room harlan placed the flowers on the table and sat down next to the hospital bed he placed a hand on my thigh i'm so glad you're feeling better kaya he said he gently pushed a loose strand of my hair out of my face and gently tucked it behind my ear remember what we taught about you'll come to me after you're discharged from the hospital i shivered at his touch but out of curiosity i asked what happens if i don't i'll let loose a dark chuckle and his head dipped until his lips skated by the curve of my ear then i'll hunt you down he whispered to me like it was obvious i'll kill you and everyone you care about I'm capable of all sorts of horrors, things you can't even imagine.

I then watched as Harlan stood up from the seat. Now, I've got a few things to do before you arrive. Harlan said, smiling down at me, he paused by the room's door. I'll see you soon. His visit was a few days ago. I'll be discharged tomorrow afternoon. I've made up my mind. All those lives are dead.

dependent on me. Everything that happened that night was real. I know that most people won't believe me, but to be quite honest, I don't care anymore. I'm just going to leave my laptop here. Mom, if you find this, I'm so sorry. I love you so much. Goodbye. I can hear them right now, scuttling and scampering about. I can hear them whispering, debating on who get the first bite, on which parts of meal they'll want to eat first. I can hear them from under me, under my bed. The floor and the walls on my house are thin, making it that much easier for me to clearly make out what they say. Take him.

he sleeps. Ah, so tasty, so peaceful. Oh, now. Take him. Take him now. Well, who else could they possibly mean? They've already taken Pamela when I brought her over to visit, along with my roommate, Connor. They took them last night, as well as my neighbours, and even their puppy before them. God, I'm the only one left. I don't know who they are, or exactly how long they've been here, nesting in the basement of this house. though I'd make a good bet to say they've been here for quite a while,

judging by the rumours that surround this place. God, I should have listened. It was only about a month and a half ago that I'd started looking for a small place to move into from my college dorm. I've been searching for weeks, trying to find a cheap little apartment or something. Unfortunately, even though, seemed to be just a bit too much for me to be able to afford. That was when a stroke of luck hit me,

and I found someone on Facebook who was, ironically enough, also moving into a new place from college and was reaching out for a roommate to split the bills and rent of a small house with. What's more? Well, it was only about a 30-minute drive from the college and was in my old hometown of Weeping Willow, North Carolina. I guess it is worth mentioning that old Willow, as Granny always used to call it, was always kind of notorious for this,

and that old ghost story about this and that old place all through the town. Well, hell, I remember how me and my buddies used to dare each other just to eat one of the apples from the oak tree in the middle of the plaza downtown, thinking we get possessed or something like that. Even back then, though, I knew none of it was real, just stories to spook the hell out of each other on the playground, right? Well, anyway, I, of course took him up on the offer. The place was listed at a semi-decent price,

and therefore only having to be responsible for half of it, I wouldn't end up in a financial bind because of it. I reached out to him via messenger, letting him know that I was interested in his offer and asked him where and when he'd like to meet up. We made up the next afternoon, after class, at the old diner that, surprisingly, was still around and hadn't moved from its spot across from the shopping mall on Garrett Street.

And from there, me and Connor basically became, well, like friends. He always seemed really cool, having many of the same interests that I did, as well as being able to introduce me to a number of new interests, mostly new TV shows and movies I wasn't familiar with before. He and I helped each other to secure the deed to the house, splitting half of the down payment. Well, it was later that week that we'd finally see the house. Well, admittedly at the time, I remember just how odd it seemed to me when I saw it.

Not even necessarily a bad feeling or anything, but more so, well, familiar. Like maybe I'd seen a heard about it before. I couldn't place what it was that made it so familiar, though. It was a small, one-story house with a wooden power. annulled roof in place of a typical shingled one. The paint, which might have been baby blue at one time, either that or aqua, was now faded and worn down so far

that only the dark-aged wood beneath was visible, save for a few faded splotches here and there. Around the perimeter was a chain-link fence that was warped and marred with rust. In short, the place might as well have had a sign out front saying something like, abandon hope ye who enter. And this wasn't going to keep us from happily

sinking money into it. Just a week and a half later, we finally started moving in. Much like the outside, it was more or less just as decrepit and bleak on the inside as well. We couldn't take two steps without hearing the floorboards creak and feel like they'd give them beneath us at any moment. Between that and the cobweb strung out just about everywhere, you can kind of see what kind of place we were dealing with here. Me and Connor, however, considered it a fixer-upper, and decided this

would be something we'd make work, by hook or by crook. Oh, for the first month or so, everything was just fine. We were even able to start fixing up the place to make it a bit more livable, and do so without either of us risking bankruptcy. Nothing at all seemed to all add out of the ordinary, at least not with the house itself. With the neighbours, though, well, that was a bit of a different story, that they all seem very skittish around me and Connor. This didn't seem to bother him much.

Me on the other hand couldn't, for whatever reason, shake the uneasy feeling their anxious stares instilled in me. I always tried to be plight, even trying to make small talk with them, something I never used to do with people, much less complete strangers. Still, they just looked at me almost like I was diseased or something. I even distinctly recall spotting a few of them actually crossing themselves.

Talk about overkill. Well, I say that, but I guess they were right, weren't they? It wasn't long after that that we started hearing the scratching noises at night time. They always started out faint, and then would gradually get louder and louder as the time would pass in the night. Well, the first night it happened, I told Connor, who was apparently oblivious to it. He told me that he didn't hear anything, while adding that this kind of thing could kind of be expected when moving into a new house. or rather, an old house like this one, new to us, and that it was just another thing to get used to.

Well, I figured that makes sense, and over the next few days I sort of learned to get used to it. But then I started hearing the voices. The first night I heard it, I couldn't tell what it was they were saying, so I wrote that off too, figuring maybe Connor had left the TV on or something. After about a week and a half of hearing them, though, Well, that was when I decided, well, politely, of course, to approach Connor about it.

When I did, though, he swore up and down that he hadn't even been watching the TV at night, claiming he'd always been in bed at 9.30. I told him about the voices I kept hearing. He told me that, again, it was probably just the excitement getting to me or something. I was a little less convinced this time around, but still decided not to press him further. that night hearing them again i grabbed a flashlight and headed down to the basement and decided to investigate for myself when i opened the hatch leading under the house nobody was there though i went in and looked all around nothing just cobwebs and old wooden beams that looked like they were ready to at any moment collapse under

their own weight oh at least until i got to the very back of the area right under around where my bedroom would be or I found what looked to be like a large bed of, well, of, I don't even know what. It was pitch black, dark brown and shiny. What in there a hell? What is this stuff? I used a nearby slither of chipped off wood from one of the beams to scrape up a bit of it. Well, it was soft but thick and sticky and smelled awful, like a roadkill carcass. The next day, after I got home from class, I immediately told Connor about it, showing him the bit of gunk from the night before.

What is this? he asked, looking at me, both confused and disgusted. I shrugged. I don't know. I just found a large mass of it in the basement. He kept looking at me like I was a weirdo. Here, I'll show you. Took him down to the basement. He and I both had to hold our breaths. keep from hurling right there and then from the smell, which was so even worse than last night. I showed him where I'd seen the stuff, which was when he gagged. It was still there, the circle of whatever this stuff was. God, that smells horrible, Connor exclaimed, covering his nose with his shirt. Oh man, we've got to get rid of this crap. How? We don't even know what it is. What if it's

toxic or something? Well, I can't take that smell anymore. That's what's toxic. With that, we promptly rushed out from beneath the house and went back to the living room. After debating for about half an hour, we finally agreed to have the landlord and poison control come out the next day to look at it and see about how to get rid of it. Well, that night was the first time I heard more clearly what the voices under the bed were actually saying. They spoke English, but their words were broken, mostly just repeating the same words over and over again. Feed, must feed, eat our juicy meat, take now.

That was creepy as all hell, and I imagined a group of cannibals were under my bed. What was even stranger was their actual voices. The best way I could describe it was that they seemed to have some frantic, disjointed, high-pitched buzz to them, almost like an insect or something. Needless to say, sleep was out of the cards for me that night. The next morning, me and Connor were awakened by a knock at the door. It was one of our neighbours living two houses down to the right of us, the Roddencrofts. They asked us if we'd seen their puppy who'd apparently run out of the house late last night

and was last seen heading in our direction. I noticed they seemed rather skittish while telling us this, constantly darting their eyes around, never hold inconsistent. and eye contact, and also looking rather stiff. In other words, it wasn't hard to tell they really didn't want to be there at our house. Of course, we told him we had no idea, but we'd be more than happy to keep an eye out for them. Connor was even about to volunteer to print them out some missing posters, when they just plastered on half-house poker smiles and cut him off,

blurting out, Thank you for your time. Sorry for bothering you, before hurrying away back to their house. For a moment after that, Conor and I just stood there, looking confused at each other, before shrugging and finished getting ready for the day. All through classes that day, I was unable to concentrate on anything except for the voices from the past night, that plus the pit of gunk, and now the incident with the neighbour's dog. All my mental stamina ended up going into trying to connect the dots.

On my way home, I got a text from Connor, saying that, he'd stepped out and was on his way to meet with the landlord about the basement. As soon as I got home, I opened the front door and was hit with a horrible smell. I couldn't tell what it was at first, and part of me thought maybe it was the smell of the gunk having travelled up from under the house. This proved not to be the case, however, when I took a whiff of the sample we planned to show the landlord. No, this was a sharper odour, like something had just died.

Finally, I went down and opened up the door leading under the house. Well, I was right about one thing. Whatever the smell was, it definitely came from down there and had travelled up to the house. Covering my face with my hand to keep from dumping my stomach all over the place, I clicked on the flashlight on my phone and started heading towards the back at the basement, where the stench was the strongest. What I saw next made my heart abruptly stop. There, Co-Code.

in the gunk, was what remained of a small, light-yellow furrowed puppy. God, it was horrible. It looked like the poor thing had been mauled by a wolverin, with large chunks, each the size of wiffle balls dug out all over its body, as well as both of its ears and an eye missing. I was two seconds away from losing the little control I had over my stomach, when I heard what sounded like skittering from up ahead. Looking up, I could see six tiny dots

stab through the darkness in front of me, rapidly getting closer and closer. This caused me to drop my phone and frantically scrambled towards the door leading back into the living room. As soon as I'd made it back out, I lashed the hatch and sat on it. I could feel it banging and pushing more and more

violently from beneath me. I was sure at any moment, whatever they were on the other side was somehow going to end up bashing their way through the hatch, hurling me off of it. Luckily for me, after staying frozen in a fetal position for about ten minutes on top of the hatch, everything went quiet and still again. Another five minutes passed before Connor and the landlord finally arrived. When they found me a pale, quivering pulp on top of the hatch leading under the house,

they were both naturally confused as all hell when they asked what had happened all like a do was blabber like a moron don't go in there something's down there don't go down there over and over again why what's down there connor asked no doubt figuring i'd finally lost my damn mind i was still too short though, to even form a decent sentence. I don't know. Hey, calm down, pal, join the landlord. Here, let's get you some water. As they slowly managed to work me out of my paralysis from on top of the hatch, I was able to get one more broken phrase out from my babbling.

Dark, storn apart. I began to feel dizzy, light-headed, like I dropped faint, if not dead of a heart attack. at any instant. After guiding me over to the sofa and getting me to somewhat calm down, at least enough to breathe normally, they again asked me what it was I'd seen down it. I told them everything, or at least everything I could make out. The dog, the gunk, those eyes, everything. I didn't mention the voices I'd been hearing. For one thing, I guess I didn't see any real connection at the time. Even if I had, however, I figured I was

pushing my luck already with what I was telling them to not try and have my ass committed. My suspicion, as far as that went, was somewhat apparent with Connor, who cocked an eyebrow and replied, Are you serious? Yeah, I'm not making any of this up. Glatzy over to the landlord, I could see that his face seemed more concentrated, as if trying to actually analyse what I was saying, as if maybe he actually believed me,

and maybe even knew something. If he did know something, though, he didn't let on, and he just said that what I'd said was interesting, but unlikely that anyone could be in the basement, given how long the place had sat abandoned before we'd bought it. He said he'd personally checked the whole place from top to bottom when he rented the house to us, so it couldn't be squatters. He did say that the place had a thing, though, for rats to scamper around, especially in the basement where it was dark.

"'Rats, you're screwing with me here, right? "'I can tell you right now. "'It wasn't no damn rats that did that to the puppy.' "'My heart began racing again. "'Well, he just shrugged. "'That's the best theory I got, pal. "'I could still see his face "'had that nervous look plastered on

"'as he tried to push this load of crap at me. "'Look,' he started, "'obviously now just trying to shut me up about it all. I'll have pest control come down here and see what they find, okay? I wanted to keep pushing further to figure out what, as well as why. Details were being kept from us. But my still present state of confused dread, as well as Connor telling me to relax and get a grip,

made me think better of it for the present. While the landlord was on the phone with pest control, I just sat there, trembling. Almost involuntarily, my mind started remembering the events from before, the scurrying, the chattered voices. And that's when I started remembering more of what the voices had said. Something about juicy meat. Is that what was going on last night? They, whatever they are, were eating the puppy. About 15 minutes later, he came back and told me and Connor that pest control was on the way, and then we should consider finding someplace else

to crash until they were done. How long should it take? asked. Ah, not long, but they said there's a chance they'll have to fumigate the place, which could take anywhere from 36 to 48 hours for them to deem the place saved to come back again. I looked to Connor, who looked annoyed, but shrugged and said, All right. The next half hour was spent packing a couple of overnight bags and calling one of my barge from college to see if I could bung it at his place until the house was ready again.

I asked Connor if he had a place to stay, to which he replied that, he knew of a cheap motel he could stay in for a while. Well, at night, at my friend's house, I was flipping through the channels when a breaking news broadcast caught my attention. A couple found dead in home. Now normally I'd have kept going, but I saw that the house they were filming

looked very familiar. It wasn't until they read the address that it hit me. God, that was the Roddencroft's house. I was in shock again. At approximately 9.30 p.m., authorities were alerted to a disturbance by neighbors who allegedly heard screaming from their house. Upon arriving, police found the victims, 39-year-old Caitlin Bex Roddencroft, and her husband, 42-year-old James Hubert Roddencroft, sprawled out on their living room floor with heavy lacerations all over their bodies, as well as entrails having been removed viciously. They then showed images of the crime scene and I, almost threw up.

up. There, on the screen, in a giant pool of blood, were my neighbours. They looked like they'd just gone through a paper shredder. Despite the heavy blurring of the images on the screen, I could still clearly see the dark and red gashes covering the both of them from top to bottom, and I saw the blood scattered erratically all across the surrounding area. The report went on to detail that they'd found them with their stomachs ripped open and hollowed out. I couldn't stand to watch anymore, so I turned the TV off and immediately texted Connor and asked him if he'd seen the news. I told him about what I'd seen, and he said we'd need to install a security system when we go home again. Now, I've never really trusted

those things. All they do is beep at every little thing that sets it off by motion detection, even just small animals racing by. Plus, they were expensive as hell. Well, got any better ideas? No. Then I got to thinking and I remember that my dad had left me with his old Winchester rifle and an old Colt 45 revolver before he died last year. I told this to Connor and told him I'd get it from the old family home, now owned by my aunt and uncle. He agreed, though he said he'd still feel better with an actual security system. After I got the guns from my aunt's place, I got the text from the fumigators saying that the place was safe to come back. when i got back i found connor talking to the landlord hey um everything all clear i asked the landlord he turned to me still looking like he was afraid or anxious of something was that guilt and told me that we could come back into the house but to stay out of the basement well i looked at him confused why what the hell was down there look he sighed

just keep out from under there for a few days at least okay. Whatever it was down there, they told me that it requires some real strong stuff to get rid of it, stuff that takes a bit to wear off and ain't good to breathe. Well, I relented at that. It made sense, but something about the way he was saying it gave me the feeling that it wasn't actually the truth,

or at least not all of it. Finally he left, and me and Connor had the house back to ourselves. All I was able to be concerned with, however, was that news report. And, of course, that would be the first thing I tried to talk to him about. God, I wonder who hated them so much they'd go and do that, Conner said. Who? I replied. More like what?

Well, he caught his eyebrow at me. What do you mean? Come on, you saw the footage right. You really think a person did that? Okay, well, what's your theory, detective? Unfortunately, he kind of had me there. Well, I wasn't sure what it was, though. Something was telling me it had something to do with whatever happened to that puppy in the basement.

That night, I'd hear them again, chattering and bickering. Feed, mass feed, heed. And surprisingly, this kept me on high alert all night. During this, another thought also managed to worm its way into my panic brain. These things, whatever they were, could they have been the ones to rip the Roggancrofts apart like that? Not to mention, before that, well, the puppy? What the hell even are they? The next morning, having gotten no sleep whatsoever,

I decided to skip the early bird classes and spend some time at the local cafe, searching both for more articles pertaining to the Roddencroft's murders, as well as possibly another place to stay. That's when I ran into Pamela. She was in the process of fixing another cappuccino, the tenth one by then, when she remarked, "'Tuff on you, her?' I looked at her confused.

"'Oh, your classes,' she said, gesturing to my laptop. "'It must be going rough on you with all them cappuccinos you keep knocking back.' "'Well, I chuckled dryly. "'No, this isn't school stuff.' "'Ah!' she said, "'slide in the coffee to me. "'Well, something's got to be keeping you up. "'You look like you've been burning some kind of candle at both ends.

"'Put a lot of doubles at work or something?' "'Oh, no. "'You were part of you?' "'She winked before remarking. "'Maybe some pretty girl's been keeping you busy.' "'I chuckled again before replying. No, nothing like that. Well, then, what is it?

Unless you're about to tell me that I've just been feeding your little caffeine addiction here for the past hour and a half, just for the hell of it. Well, I hesitated for a moment. I wasn't sure how or really, even really if I should tell her about what had been going on. For one thing, I still wasn't sure what exactly was going on myself. Part of me at the time still had the idea that the voices I was hearing were all just, in my head. Another thing, though, was the idea that even if she didn't think I was nuts, what would she know? Of course. She looks like she's been here for a while. Well, could she know something? All right, you're probably going to think I'm losing it,

I said, chuckling nervously. She just looked at me, urging me to spill it. You see, I've, um, been hearing these weird noises from under my house. Noises, she asked, her face growing curious. Yeah, like, I don't know, like voices? I instantly cringed after saying that, anticipating to look up and see her looking at me like I just told her the sky was falling in. Instead, I could see excitement growing on her face. Voices, you say, under your house.

"'Yes. You hear anything they say?' "'I thought briefly about the nights I'd hear them scurrying around from underneath me. I thought about how I'd hear them go back and forth, about how they'd take me in my sleep. "'Feed, must feed, eat, juicy meat, or take now.' I told her this, and her brow furrowed, concentrated in thoughts. Oh, sounds to me like you've been hearing them vermin. I caught my eyebrow at her. Oh, yeah, they used to have a real bad time with those suckers back in the day.

And she giggled before, I think. That's if all the old stories are true, at least. Well, I was the curious one. Hey, what do you mean? You mean you've seen this before? No, well, not really. Like I said, there was just something Granny used to talk about. You know, one of those little ghost stories to scare us at night time.

Oh, um, what was the story? Well, I sounded desperate, and I was. If Pamela knew what these things were, and if they were actually real, then she might also know how to get rid of them. Well, now I couldn't tell you exactly where it was they came from, or when they first started shacking up here in Little Old Willow. Well, like I said, I don't remember what my granny used to tell me, about them. She'd always tell me about how they'd live under your house, said they'd scurry

around under the floors and come out in nighttime, and they'd start coming out to feed. Oh, they don't like the light. Makes them sensitive, apparently. So they nest under houses and dig around like little moles from one house to another. Hey, um, wait, I interjected. You said they're vulnerable to sunlight. Oh, yeah, why? I didn't answer this. I shook my head, a motion for her to continue. Well, yeah, they like it dark. So that's when they'll come out for feeding. Look, probably a stupid question,

but what exactly do they like feeding on? She smirked and said, Anything meaty. They love them some man meat, you know. She snickered that, and I chuckled nervously. I wasn't finding this as funny as she apparently was. Ah, come on, that's just yanking your chain.

You don't believe this junk, do you? I took another gulp of my coffee. I wasn't sure what to say. Yeah, I'm no believer in ghosts or monsters, despite what I said earlier about having grown up in this town. But at the same time, I couldn't shake the horrible feeling that Pamela may not be yank in my chain about this as much as she thinks she is.

Oh, no, I said finally. But I'd like to ask, say, um, hypothetically that I did believe you. How would I get rid of them? She cocked her eyebrow, scoffing. Please, humor me. Well, suppose you could try mousetraps, but maybe lure them out into the sun. Let him cook for a while, before serving them at a barbecue. Well, I really can't give you any tips.

Granny never told me how they actually got rid of them. Oh, I see, I replied, doubting my coffee. My heart now fall into the pit of my stomach. What's it going to do? I mean, if even Pamela couldn't help, then who could i was about to pack up my laptop and head back to the house when pamela stopped me she said gesturing to the register oh i replied chuckling my bad how much well she tapped the keys on her register before replying oh for all them lardies you downed your damages 21 57 i looked in my wallet to see shamefully that i only had 25 left

way back. Hey, um, don't suppose you take card deal. She smiled and shook her head. I afraid not, darling, she said. I sighed and was about to give her the cash when she put her hand out stopping me. Hey, but for a handsome, respectful fellow like you, I believe I can let you go. She winked before adding, that is, so long as she agreed to take me out to dinner. oh sure i replied and her grin widened great tonight work for you say round eight i nodded my head she then tore off a chunk of the receipt paper and scrawled out her address i'll see you then she said with another wink i took it and packed up my stuff before leaving the cafe and heading for home On the way, I thought of how I might find some way to get rid of these things, these vermin. I wondered if maybe bringing Pamela over to the house, perhaps arned with something, might get some kind of result.

Then I had the idea to bring Pamela over to the house for dinner. I figured, well, aside from saving money, this might at least give me some measure of comfort. Or maybe if they start up again, she'll hear it and she might be able to help. I spent the rest of the day trying to tidy the house up as much as possible. I remember Connor asking me why I was trying to clean the house, joking that it was late for spraying cleaning, don't you think? I then filled him in on the situation with Pamela. And then he immediately started teasing me about picking up coffee shop chicks.

Oh, look, it's nothing serious, okay. I just agreed to bring her over for dinner in exchange for free coffee. You don't got to explain it to me, out, he remarked, snickering. Don't worry. I won't get in y'all's way. I just rolled my eyes and continued cleaning. Almost before I'd even realized it, it was already 7.15 p.m., after taking one last look around the house, satisfied that it looked at least mostly presentable enough for company, I left to pick up Pamela from her house, using the address she'd given me. When I arrived, about 20-something minutes later, she was standing on her porch waiting. Right on time,

ain't you? She commented as she got in the car. Well, I replied with a chuckle. I figured it'd make for a good first impression right. She responded by giggling. So, um, where are we headed for supper? Actually, I was wondering how you'd feel about possibly having dinner at my place. Ooh, she squealed, winking, planning on whining and dine to me in one go her. I chuckled nervously and replied, or maybe just stick to the dining tonight, eh? What do you say? Oh, she snickered before giving me another sly wink. When we returned to the house, I saw that Conner's car was still parted in the driveway.

Yeah, so much for not getting in the way, her, I thought, as we got out. Despite this, though, when I went inside, he was nowhere in sight. Hey, Connor, I yelled out. Nothing. I went from room to room, calling out his name. They were all empty and silent. Hmm, where is he? I wondered.

I guess he decided to go out with a friend, too, using their car, maybe. I was about to head back out into the living room to join Pamela. When a foul smell assaulted my nose. It was a sharp, overwhelming smell that dominating my asthma. What the hell? God, what is that? In the back of my mind, though, I found something familiar about it. Then I realized that it was a smell of something that had just died.

Not only that, but some of my mind, though, I found something. something that had just died in the house. Concentrating closely, I realised that it was coming from under the floorboards. That's when I felt a sinister chill climb up my spine. This was the same thing I'd smelled when I found the... Yeah, everything all right? Pamela asked from behind me, causing me to jump a bit. She looked at me with wide eyes, my reaction having stalled her.

What's wrong, huh? I shook my head and smiled nervously. Oh, um, it's nothing. Just give me one moment. I need to check something out real quick. And for a moment she continued looking at me, puzzled, before shrugging and heading into the dining room. I left the room and went out through the front door

and went around to the back of the house to the basement. And there, I found that this was indeed where the hard smell was coming from. Standing up close, I realised the smell was something. somehow even stronger than I remembered it being before. Whatever it was, couldn't have been dead long. My hand shook as I reached to open the basement door, afraid of what I'd see on the other side.

What was it going to be this time? Another animal, a person may be. That caused another far more haunting suggestion to enter my mind. Will I find Connor in there? Taking in a huge breath, I grabbed and thought, threw open the basement door. Immediately, I was forced to turn away in wretch. It was exactly what I'd feared.

Actually, it was even worse than I'd imagined. There, ripped apart senselessly and cocooned in that dark, smelly gunk, was the shredded carcass of my roommate. Just like the puppy before him, there wasn't a single patch of skin that hadn't been mauled almost beyond recognition. I wasn't able to even fully register the gruesome scene though before I heard the sounds of scuttling from farther back inside the basement I could hear their movement coming towards me at a rapid pace

Who's there? I called out weakly into the darkness It continued to get closer and closer Tittering like rats as they scurried along He's right here I heard a raspy voice hissed from the darkness He's right here we have him now more juicy meat this caused my heart to stop cold i stood frozen as one of the things finally came into view from the darkness of the basement it was huge and emaciated with bones that

pushed out against its taut ghoulishly albino skin his face was gaunt and it had dark marbled beady eyes and its mouth was tattered its gums fully exposed and bearing tiny jagged teeth like those of a shark. It was scurrying rapidly along the ground on its equal bone-thin limbs. Juicy meats must feed. In one motion the creature bounded from where it was towards me. Its claws outstretched, ready to seize me. I broke from my terrified trance just in time to slam the door before it could have me. I felt it crash against the door, and I quickly propped a couple of nearby cinder blocks against it before bolting around like a bat out of hell into the house. After all but hurling myself through the door and locking it, I stood braced against it,

panting frantically. "'What happened to you?' Pamela exclaimed, staring at me with eyes the size of serving platters. I just stood there, breathless, my heart racing. As well as this, my thoughts were so frantic that I was unable to even make a sound, even to scream. Finally, after a full minute, I wheezed out, Vermin, she cocked her eyebrow. Huh? Under the house, the vermin, they killed... My tongue froze and my heart skipped about five beats

when I heard and felt a loud knocking from the floorboards. As they got louder and more furious, I realized in horror that they were attempting to breach through the floorboards. I was about to scream for Pamela to rush to the door where I was, but it was already too late. From directly in front of her, a large white claw broke through the floor and snatched her by the ankle. Her jaw fell and she tried to scream, but was only able to let out a choked and grasping sound. Two more sets of claws then broke through the floor and grabbed her. I tried to rush over to her, but she was gone almost as soon.

soon as I got to where she'd been, balled down below the floor into the basement. I looked down to see a dark, empty hole where Pamela had been standing only seconds before. Pamela! I shouted, hang on, I'm coming. Before I could try and come down through the hole, though, I heard the sounds of them scurrying back towards it. I immediately retracted away and ran to my bedroom, locking the door and pushing the dresser against it. I threw myself into my bed and huddled into a ball, waiting for them to inevitably break down the door and snatch me. Oddly, fortunately, the night passed without this happening. Well, it was a relief that I'd made it through the night, though I haven't moved from my room at all. I was afraid that one of them

would be lingering outside my bedroom door, just waiting for me to try and come out so it can take me like the others. It looks like now I'm screwed anyway. No, it's only a matter of time before I'm a goner, too. I was scared to move from my bed. Right now, it might be the only protection I have, at least until they break out from below to drag me down into the basement, their nest, and feast on me.

and so once again we reach the end of tonight's podcast my thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories and to you for taking the time to listen now i'd ask one small favor of you wherever you get your podcast wrong please write a few nice words and leave a five-star review as it really helps the podcast that's it for this week but i'll be back again same time same place and i do so hope you'll join me once more. Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye.