Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S6 Ep312: Episode 312: Terrifying Forest Horror Stories

Episode Date: January 29, 2026

In tonight's episode, we delve into the darkest corners of the forest with wonderful contemporary tales from Morrbanesh, Mr. Charms 505 and Mr. Evan 312. We begin with the horrors of 'In the woods' before moving on to ' The Adirondack Monster' and then rounding off with 'The Cabin with the Red Light.' All three of these phenomenal works have been kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all.https://www.reddit.com/user/morrbanesh/https://www.reddit.com/user/Mr_Charms_505 https://www.reddit.com/user/MrEvan312We continue this evening with ‘Me and the Boys Went Hunting for a Serial Killer in the Woods’, an original story Crone Johnson, kindly shared with me for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all: https://www.reddit.com/user/Crone_Johnson/ Our penultimate story is '' I competed in a game show where the contestants faced their worst fears; The final round broke me.'', an original work by Grotesque Penguin, also kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all. https://www.reddit.com/user/Grotesque-penguin/ Tonight’s final intriguing tale of mystery is ‘It’s in the Shadows’, an original story by Cozmik Dawn, once again kindly shared with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all.  https://www.reddit.com/user/CozmikDawn/ 

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Check out Rogers Business Point of Sale Solutions at Rogers.com slash POS. To Dr. Creepin's Dungeon, walls have ears, doors have eyes, trees have voices, beasts tell lies. Beware the rain, beware the snow, beware the man you think you know. Now, as ever before we begin, a word of caution. Tonight's stories may contain strong language, as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery. If that sounds like your kind of thing, then let's begin. Look, Amanda, I said. The police stopping the search.

They said they haven't found a trace, and it's been five days now. Amanda looked at me with such malice and hatred that I felt a chill running down my spine. So you just want to stop the search now? I mean, it's only our daughter. She's out there, frightened, and you just want to stop the search. I felt as if I'd been punched in the gut. Tears were welling up, but I managed to reply. Don't even say that.

Of course I want them to continue the search. But I'm not in charge of the police. Please, honey, don't see me as the enemy. I love you. I love Charlotte. Don't speak her name, she yelled. You just see the search as an inconvenience to you. Just leave me be.

I did as she asked, going out of the bedroom and into the living room of our cabin. I sat down on the couch, hands on face and cried over the loss of our daughter, and now my estranged wife. That night I decided to sleep on the couch. I heard Amanda sobbing throughout the night. even though I wanted to comfort her. I felt she needed space. The next morning I awoke, tired and stiff from a bad spell of sleep.

I decided to make some breakfast, eggs and bacon, and brought it up to her. Here, darling, I made breakfast, I said. She looked at me with puffy red eyes. Is that all you can think of when our daughter is somewhere out there, scared out of her life? I sighed. Look, it won't do hurt any good if we stop our lives, stop taking care of ourselves. You need to eat.

She looked away, tears welling up. The day continued like that. Me trying to get any contact to Amanda and her turning down my attempts. It may be sadder each time as I really wanted to connect with her again, needed to connect with her. after all she was my wife and i wanted to help her in her situation as well as help myself i couldn't go through all of this alone and i was sure she couldn't either i had to make some sort of breakthrough the day went on like that

me trying to do anything to make a connection with amanda and her either ignoring me completely or getting aggressive towards me each time i failed it felt we were gliding farther and farther from each other. Each time felt as if my heart was being stomped on. It felt worse and worse. As the day faded into evening, I decided to make dinner for us. I helped Amanda down to the dining room and sat her in her chair. I sat down in my seat and started eating. A bit into the meal, I glanced over at her, checking how she was doing. She was poking her fork at the meal listlessly, her stare shifting from the meal to the window, then back to the meal and letting out a long, sad sigh. Pain me to see her like this.

Not a normal, cheerful self, but then again, I was a total mess inside. But I felt I had to stay strong, for the both of us. Wouldn't do any good if we both just crumbled down and stopped functioning out here in the middle of the woods. I was also hungry on top of all the sadness. Angry at the cops and park rangers decided that it would be too dangerous to continue the search. There had been a massive rain about a week ago. There had been some flooding and the rangers had said that conditions were bad. Therefore, the search would be called off for now.

I'd shouted at them, pleaded with them, but to no avail. The ranger said that he understood. me but he couldn't risk the lives of the search party. It made me angry that they could just wave off the life of a four-year-old like that. Such an inconvenience to search for her. And eventually I broke down in tears. Amanda looked at me and started crying too. The next day we were just sat in the dining room, looking at each other,

then looking out the window, all in silence. We both knew how each other felt. we also know we couldn't just go out and search on our own. For starters, we didn't really know the woods. We could easily get lost in there if we went in too far. Secondly, we weren't equipped for a long stretch in the woods, and our clothing wasn't really helpful against the elements. We probably wouldn't survive long if we got lost.

No need for that, no matter the circumstances. I tried several times to talk to her. Sometimes she acknowledges me Other times she just stared out the window Or stared right at me Or right past me She never really answered Then again

It was hard to make small talk when this had happened And I didn't know what to torture about The incident was weighing heavily upon both of us And again The day seemed to fade away like a dream You can't really remember I was a bit surprised when I realized it had turned dark outside I stood up and was going to prepare dinner

and then I thought I heard Charlene's voice coming from the woods Mommy Daddy I'm scared Followed by a short muffled scream That's the best I can describe it as Now I was starting to hear things I looked at Amanda and saw that her eyes were wide open as well as her mouth.

Had she heard it too? We looked at each other in stunned silence, and then we heard it again. Mommy, Daddy, I'm scared, followed by that muffled scream. But there was something wrong. I just couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something at the back of my mind

warning me against this. Amanda Shown. shouted, Charlene, and leapt up. She didn't even put on shoes. She just ran outside. I tried to call her, to stop her, but she was gone in an instant. I ran after her, hoping she would come to her senses. Amanda, I yelled.

I saw where she'd run into the woods, darting past trees and stumps. I ran after her as fast as I could. She kept darting out of my woods. sight, but I yelled at her. Amanda, please, stop. As I ran into a small clearing, I could see Amanda there, looking in each direction. Honey, please, I said. We don't know where she is. It won't help her if we get lost in here. She looked at me with such fury that I thought for a second she hated me. Well, come back to the cabin, go back and just leave our daughter out here. in the woods. You don't care about her. You don't even care about me. The force of those words,

the angry tone and the hatred in her eyes. The words and our current situation were too much for me. I could feel the tears well up in my eyes. I covered my face with my hands and cried of it. Don't even suggest that, honey. You two are my world, I said. As I removed my hands, I removed my hands from my face, I realized Amanda was gone. Amanda! I screamed. Now I was getting a bit scared. Where had she gone? Amanda! I screamed again, more urgently.

I heard some rustling of leaves to my right. I didn't think. I just sprinted there, calling out to Amanda every few seconds. It was hard to navigate the woods in the dark. I called out to Amanda Then tried to listen to any sounds Either from Amanda or Charlene After a few minutes I heard something behind me

Mommy Daddy I'm scared But it wasn't Charlene's voice It sounded like several voices at once A cold Chill ran down my spine What an earth could that be

Then to my left I heard Amanda's voice Oh honey I've missed you so much Come to Mummy Followed by a blood Curdling scream Amanda

I yelled as I ran towards the sound Brarches flew by As I hurried towards where I'd heard Amanda screaming What's going on in these woods I thought as I ran Suddenly I tripped over something

I fell down hard, knocking my forehead. I saw stars as I lay on the ground, wondering what had happened. Then, as my vision started to clear, I realized I'd tripped over a person, a person wearing what seemed to be Amanda's clothing, although it was ripped in places, and there was blood. There was so much blood. I screamed as I realized what. what I was seeing. It was Amanda, or what was left of her. Her torso had been cut open,

from the neck down to her hip. Most of her innards were gone, and her face, oh God, her beautiful face. The eyes were gone. The mouth was open in a terrified scream. I hugged her, crying, screaming her name. The pain was unbearable. Then I heard it. Rustling of leaves behind me and Amanda's voice saying

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We now move on to our second story this evening. The Adirondack Master by Mr. Charms 505. I've always loved the colors of fall. The reds, oranges and yellows, blended with the grey skies of October and November, a more beautiful than any picture man could paint. Every autumn, in my old stomping grounds of upstate New York, I would hike a trail in the Adirondack Mountains. Sometimes I would make the hike in a day.

Others, I would bring camping equipment so that I could walk at my leisure, and if it took two or three days, I wouldn't mind. These hikes were a tradition I had begun when my father first took me hiking at age 10 And now at age 27 I still had no thoughts about breaking that tradition for anything That was why on November 11th Two days before my birthday

I found myself on a trail that started at Elk Lake And went up Mount Marcy The highest mountain in the Adirondacks A lot of people like my friendly personality but find I'm a bit too quirky to try to be in a relationship with. So, well, I was hiking alone. It didn't bother me too much. I'd been hiking alone ever since my father died a decade ago,

so I was used to being alone when the breathtaking scenery would reveal itself. Sometimes I wished I could share the view with someone, but beggars can't be choosers, right? I was happy enough to see what I saw when I saw it. The hike began ordinarily enough. I'd driven to Elk Lake and arrived at 7 a.m. without a hitch. It was a Saturday morning, and the hike was going to be about 21 miles round trip, so I'd prepared supplies that allowed me to spend the night out in nature.

It was a typical upstate November day. Gray skies, about 40 degrees Fahrenheit, windy and looking like it could start raining at any second. A perfect day in my eyes. The trail starts on a slow, lazy incline up the side of the mountain, and I took my time taking each step so that I could enjoy the crisp air and the sounds of nature. Since it was still early in the morning, a myriad of creatures without foraging what they could before the brutal winter came and completely removed the land of all growing food. I saw squirrels, rabbits, I even spotted a deer within the first hour. even though I had a large pack on my back. Years of practice had taught me to be quiet,

even while carrying a decent load, so as to not scare away the wildlife that were just trying to live their lives in their natural homes. Soon, the gentle slope gained a bit more of an incline, and I turned my attention away from sightseeing to do some serious hiking. The cold air felt amazing as I breathed it into my lungs, and I felt like I had all the energy in the world

as I ascended up the trail, a smile never leaving my face. All the years of hiking, and never once it had ever gotten old for me, I still felt the sheer wonder of immersion in nature that I felt on that first trip that my father had taken me on. Before I knew it, my wristwatch red noon, and it was time to stop for some lunch. I stopped next to a fallen log that conveniently rested beside the trail and made a little temporary campsite. As I got the fire started and retrieved some food from my pack,

I marveled at the calming isolation I was currently experiencing. During the summer months, these trails are packed with tourists, but now, in the early days of November, the woods were practically deserted. There were only a few crazed outdoor people, like myself, who would trek these paths during the fall, and I was perfectly fine with that. I was in the middle of my meal when it struck me.

There were no sounds around me at all. It wasn't just the silence of animals when a predator or a human is around. No. No wind stirred. No leaves moved. The only sounds I could hear was the crackling of the fire. The crunch of the food in my mouth and the faint beat of my heart. I've been subjected to silence in nature before.

But never had I experienced an absolute quiet like that. It unnerved me, and I ate the rest of my lunch with haste, so that I could leave that spot as fast as possible. My mood improved when I was back on my feet, and in no time I heard the typical sounds of the forest again as I trekked up the path. I decided I was covering good ground at great speed, so I slowed my ascent, so I could concentrate on the wilderness around me.

I didn't spot any more animals, but the mixing of the colours of the fallen leaves and listening to the multitude of birdsongs that filled the air was enough for me. I sort of went into a trance, extending my senses out and not really being aware of my body, just feeling like I was one with nature. I'd been in this moving meditation for about 20 minutes, when a thought sprung up, interrupting my stupor and brought me back completely. I've been listening to my echoing steps, stirring up the fallen leaves that littered the ground for a while, when I realised the path I was walking upon didn't have piles of fallen leaves on

it. Even if it did, the sound of their crunching shouldn't be echoing. No. Something else was walking in the forest nearby, trying to match my stride purposefully. I stopped immediately and began to look around. The sound of leaves crunching stopped too, and though I strained to see around me, I spotted nothing but trees and shrubs.

The sky was still cloudy and grey, but there was enough light that I could see clearly, yet there was nothing there. I was positive that I had heard footfalls not too far off, and yet not being able to see what made those steps caused their hairs on the back of my neck to stand up. I'm not stupid, and I've seen plenty of horror movies before. This whole situation was eerie and unnatural.

Deciding to be safe rather than sorry, I quickly opened my pack and retrieved my soft air pistol. If you've never heard of Airsoft, it's a game played, kind of like paintball, except the little plastic BBs are fired rather than balls full of paint. Another main difference is that Airsoft guns look almost exactly like real guns. I had an airsoft pistol that looked exactly like a 45 handgun, and I'd even broken off the orange tip that all soft air guns were required to have to prove it's fake. Holding my fake gun in my hand, I started walking again. I kept my ears strained for sound of piles of leaves being disturbed, yet I heard nothing start up with me. I kept my guard up for another hour, before deciding that if there had been something off in the woods,

it was probably just an animal and was as scared of me as I was of it. Laughing to myself about my own paranoia, I put my fake pistol back into my back and went back to concentrating on my hike. The rest of my journey for that day was uneventful. When it started to get dark around 5.30, I decided to make camp to the night. I'd done much better than I expected, and had already reached the summit and was on my way back down. I went off the trail by about 50 feet into a small clearing and set up my tent and built a fire

I sat on the ground by the fire thoroughly exhausted yet satisfied by today's hike and just watched the flames leap listening to the wood of the fire crackle and pop while it burned the gloom of the New York afternoon soon became the darkness of dusk and after feeding some more branches to the flames I started to cook the rest of my rations for the day. Oh, a chill.

More so than had been during the day, I was in the air, forcing me to crawl into my tent where my pack resided to fetch a spare sweater. After donning the extra layer and putting my jacket back on, a familiar thought crept back into my head. The forest was too quiet again. I was about to dismiss the notion

when a rustling outside caught my ears. Something was kicking up leaves again in a slow manner, very close to my tent. Whenever it was, I could tell that it was big. I was worried a bear might be nosing around my camp, drawn by the smell of my cooked food. But I'd never heard of bears being active around here. It was a too often-used trail filled with the smell of humans. Deftly and softly,

I lifted my tent flap just a tad to peer outside and see if I could spot my campsites unwelcome visitor. Yes, as I thought, the dimness of dusk made visibility outside of the light with the fire almost impossible. My hand was forced, and I went to my pack to retrieve my strap-on headlamp and my real weapon of defence, my flare gun.

I'd never been a fan of real firearms, and the flare-gun was the closest thing to a real gun, that I would ever own. It basically is a real gun. As a well-placed flare-shot can kill a man, if need be, and the noise and light it produces can scare off would-be animal attackers. Attaching the strap-on light to my head, and having the flare-gun at ready,

I left my tent slowly, so as to not start all the creature, whatever it was, and have it attack out of fear. I gaze around, with a measured look, my bright lamp illuminating about twenty feet outside, at the camp before the darkness swallowed up the light. I'd gotten to about a full circle around my camp, when a slight crinkling sound behind me made my head whip around on instinct.

I saw something disappear into the night, stirring up leaves as it fled from the camp. It was a leg, a long, beastly leg covered in brown, shaggy fur. It didn't have the shape of the traditional back legs that animals that walk on all fours have, it seemed to have been a leg that a bipedal animal would be walking on. This leg, however, was far larger and thicker than any monkey or ape I'd ever seen, and the foot gave the feeling of not truly belonging to the leg. It should have been

attached to something with feathers, for the foot had three toes in front and one in the back, almost exactly like an owl's foot. Just like an owl's foot. Just like an owl's foot two, each toe had a long talon that flashed in the light of my headlamp. Those claws must have been a foot long apiece. I stood in stunned silence for a few moments, my mind trying to warp around what I'd just seen. I decided to turn off my headlamp to save battery life and sat by the fire, continuing to cook my food. I didn't know what else to do at that point. with a combination of the darkness of night and the build-up of my paranoia, I could maybe have imagined the leg.

If the leg was real, well, what were my options? To try and call park rangers and convince them there was a monster up here with me, and if I did convince them, what were the chances they'd make it up to me in time? I decided I was being silly with my talk of monsters. Okay, maybe I did. I did see a leg of some creature that was curious about the light and the smells coming from my camp, but, well, with the nighttime cover and my anxiety at work, I could very easily get the details about the leg wrong. I did see it only for a moment, and, well, the human brain is amazing at playing tricks on itself.

I was safe. The animal had run away from me, and all I had to do was convince my brain of that. The hot dogs I'd speared on a few sticks were basically done, so I turned my attention to them. It's amazing how much being afraid can mask your sense of hunger, and I realized that I was starving. I quickly polished off the crispy hot dogs and put the rest of the pack on the sticks and set them cooking. With the blackness of the night deepening, I decided to stave off the loneliness of the night with some music. I made a quick visit inside my tent to retrieve my late-grandfather. father's harmonica and returned to my spot by the fire. I was in the middle of my first tune,

take me home country roads when I spotted something that made me stop and stare. Two of my hot dogs were missing. What's more is that the sticks that they'd been speared on were broken. Examining the broken edges, it appeared that something had bitten off the areas for the hot dogs rather than just take the hot dogs off the stick. The bidden off stick edges looked sharpened, so whatever bit the ends off had teeth that could shear through wood like butter. It was then that I realized the dead silence had returned,

and not even the wind stirred in any of the branches of the trees surrounding my camp. Due to this silence, I heard a tiny plop, a few feet to my right. I decided to look with my eyes, but keep my head facing forward, as if I was still examining the sticks. I saw nothing, but distinctly heard the plop again. I suddenly turned my head very slightly to the right, so I could get a better view. A few feet to my right was a tall pine tree, thick with its needles. Underneath it was a pile of needles that had fallen to the forest floor. By now they had all turned yellow.

with age. Again, there was a plop, like rain was starting to fall, but the air didn't have the smell of ozone it gets before a rainfall, and I didn't feel any drops on myself, and the sound wasn't coming from anywhere but to my right. Then I saw it. Plop. A big, slimy droplet of a clear substance dropped from somewhere up in the tree onto the bed of pine needles. My first thought was that it was sap, but it wasn't thick enough to be sap. And if the tree was leaking sap, the flow would be most likely coming from the trunk, not the branches. Then I realized with horror what it was. Drul! Something was up in that tree, and it was large enough that I could see the globs of saliva that was falling from its mouth. I turned on my headlamp and scanned up

the tree slowly. It was a thick pine tree, a very good hiding spot. I couldn't see anything through the combination of thick, dark green needles and the night surrounding them. I couldn't see anything, that is, until my light shone across the eyes. Two large, terrible eyes that reflected light, like cat or dog eyes when you shine lighting them. They were about 20 feet above the ground, hooking out from a thick bundle of needles and staring directly at me. There was a hunger in those eyes, and the drool falling to the ground confirmed my suspicion. We stared at one another for a few moments. Then the eyes disappeared, and I heard crashing sounds and branches moaning under the pressure of newly added weight. The thing was jumping from tree to tree away from me, not caring about stealth at all. I don't know why

it was fleeing from me. Perhaps it was scared of the light, or maybe it simply wanted to catch me off guard, and since its plan was foiled, it was retreating to try and sneak up on me again. To this day, I don't know what it was thinking, and, well, I don't want to dwell on it either. Staring off at where it had happened, or at least where I think it disappeared, I realized I had an important decision to make. I could stay here at the camp. Keep the fire going, hope it didn't attack, and try to make it back to my car by daylight, exhaust it from not sleeping. Or I could take some essentials, abandon the camp, and try to make it to the car tonight,

while I still had energy. I decided on the latter, as I needed to get out of these mountains, ASAP, and I believe that I would be quicker and more alert now, instead of a few hours from now with stressed out nerves and no sleep. As quickly as possible, I went back into my tent and grabbed my pack. Exiting, I judged how much light my headlamp would produce and was satisfied with the result.

Yet, I still felt like I wanted some more protection. Ruding through my large backpack, I grabbed a spare shirt I'd packed and ripped it to shreds. Finding a decent-sized branch, I tied the cloth pieces to it, then used some of my spare lighter fluid that I had to help start fires with, and doused the pieces, creating a makeshift torch. Lighting it and making sure the fire was staying where I wanted it to be,

I left my things where they lay, and began the trek through the darkness back to my car, with a torch in one hand and my flare gun in the other. My descent was the stuff of nightmares. The silence that brought me unease during the day was actually comforting now, while any noise I heard sent my heart racing and tensed up every. muscle in my body. Though I now had two sources of light, they didn't extend through the twilight very much,

and outside of the path and the trees that lined the side of the path, I was blind to all else that moved through the night. My survival depended on movement, which I consciously knew, and no matter what I heard, I kept putting one foot in front of the other. Things came to her head when I was about halfway done with my death march. coming around to bend in the path, my headlamp picked up a huge pile of leaves by the side of the trail. And when I say huge, I mean it, for the pile was a tad bit taller than I was, and I'm a solid six foot one. I hadn't seen it when I'd been ascending during the day, and I knew that there was no possible way the wind had blown somehow, these leaves together during the night,

for I'd barely felt or heard any wind at all since the sun had gone down. I couldn't hear very well due to the torch's open flame being so near. And I had no desire to go near that pile of leaves, even to investigate to determine whether that's what it was or not. I made the rash decision to shoot the pile of leaves with my flare gun. Looking back, I realized that I could have started a forest fire, but I didn't care about that at the time. I wanted to live.

And if I was to be labelled an arsonist and spent some time in jail, so be it. At least I'd be alive to serve my time. The flare gun emitted a loud crack as the flare shot into the pile of leaves. Light and heat flooded into the pile, and an ear-piercing scream of pain and anger shattered the stillness of the night. A large, brown, shaggy-furred monstrosity burst from the pile onto the path, shrieking and batting at the flare stuck in its chest. This was when I confirmed

This creature was nothing like anything I had ever seen or heard from before. It must have been at least seven feet tall. The beast was coated from head to toe in fur, all of it thick and curly like an English sheep-dog. It had long, thick arms that ended in very human-like hands, each finger as thick as an average man's forearm. I saw that the leg I'd seen before was indeed the leg of this, creature. The large talons were dug into the earth, and it was tensed in pain from the heat and fire

of the flare. The head was very large, as the eyes of the monster were huge, filled with pain and fear, but also rage and understanding. The mouth that was constantly open as it roared over and over in frustration and the flare embedded in it was filled to the brim with razor-sharp teeth. Each toothers long and serrated as a steak knife. It was then my instinct took full control, and I sprinted past the monstrosity as fast as my legs could move, dropping my makeshift torch in the heat of the moment. As I passed the creature, I felt something slam into my backpack, pushing me forward suddenly and making me stumble as I sprinted. Time seemed to slow, as my feet kept going forward at awkward angles and my balance shifted, almost making me faceplant straight into the dirt path.

Something out there has me in graces, though, for I managed to keep my balance and continue sprinting down the path. When it comes to running, I'm a marathon runner, not a sprinter, and yet, with adrenaline fueling my muscles and mind, I ran faster than I'd ever run before in my life, and I kept up the pace for a long time. I must have been a very much. I must have been sprinting at top speed for ten minutes without stopping, and when my muscles finally couldn't take it any more, and my lungs needed to rest, I let myself collapse on the side of the path into a briar patch. I was panting, and wheezing loudly. My lungs and body deprived of oxygen from the marathon sprinting I'd just done. I didn't care about the scratches that now littered my face and arms. I needed to rest,

and the briar patch gave me some covered. at least. It turns out that decision saved my life. Not a minute passed after my collapse that I heard a sound of something coming down the path. I could hear the air moving as something large came charging down the path and yet I heard no footfalls. Fear made me stop breathing, though my body still needed it, and after I switched off my headlamp, I cover my mouth on my hands to cover any escaping gaffes my body might take. As the beast passed, I heard very faint grunting and snarling, as the wind generated by the creature caressed over me, carrying with it a foul smell of wet fur, feces and blood.

And then it was gone, down the path, in its pursuit of me, to surely tear me limb from limb. I stay quiet and motionless for a long time. in the dark of the night and under the cover of the briar-patch I couldn't tell if minutes or hours had passed and I didn't care going from second to second where I was alive and still breathing was all that I cared about in the moment

eventually the sounds of a typical night surrounded me and when my limbs and lungs no longer felt like they were on fire I cautiously crawled out of my safe haven and flipped my headlight back on I sneaked along the side of the trail for the rest of my descent. Early on, I almost shat myself when a bush rustled off to the side of me, turning my light caught a rabbit sprinting from the bushes into the blackness of the forest. While I breathed a sigh of relief, I realized my headlamp was too much of a target,

and, begrudgingly I turned it off, traversing the rest of the path in darkness with only faint moonlight. to keep me on the trail. Time dragged on as slowly as my every inching step. Every footstep I took was too loud for my liking, though I knew they were as quiet as I could make them. Every slight silhouette of a shadowy outline against an even blacker backdrop convinced my heart the creature was there and my time on this earth was up. Every rustle was the creature getting ready to pounce. Every small gust of wind was its breath on me As it towered above my crouch form And yet, through this horrid experience

A quote from Winston Churchill kept replaying in my mind If you're going through hell Keep going So, with tears in my eyes and teeth gritted hard I continually put one foot in front of the other Hours passed but eventually I stumbled upon the beginning of the trail, where it connected to a clearing in the parking lot.

I was so very close to salvation. I forced myself not to be cocky, however, as throwing caution to the wind could be the death of me. I had no idea where the monster was, and that was the most dangerous part of this situation. I knew I was the only car in the parking lot, and I'd part close to the trail entrance, but my hiking boots would make loud noises on the cement.

I needed to get to my car as quietly as I'd traversed down the trail. I silently put my flare gun, which I'd held with a death grip this entire time, back into my backpack, and grab my car keys from the pocket. My flannel-lined jeans were thick enough that they had stopped them from jingling this entire time. Thank God for small miracles, right? I got down onto my belly and began to army crawl my way across the ground to my car.

Took some time, as they make army crawling look much easier on TV and in the movies than it really is. Plus, I had my backpack on me, and I had to make sure it didn't fall off my back and clattered to the ground. Or worse, the parking lot cement. I made it to my car, however, and Hope finally started to kindle within me. I pushed the button to unlock the doors, and being able to clearly hear the car's doors locks unlocking made me realize something. The night had become silent as the grave again. Adrenaline course threw me once more, and in almost one fluid motion, I opened the driver door, threw my pack into the passenger seat, and got into the car. With one hand, I slammed my door shut, and the other hand jammed the keys.

into the ignition and violently turned. My car roared to life, and as soon as I turned the lights on to sea, I threw the car into drive and gunned it to the exit of the parking lot, not even taking the time to buckle my seatbelt. As I was flooring it towards the parking lot exit, something big slammed into the back side of my car, causing me to almost lose control. I managed to correctly counter-turn the steering wheel and got my car under control again. risking a glance out of my rearview mirror, I saw the creature in the red light of my tail lights, staring at me while I left. Even through the gloom of the early morning and limited vision of my rearview mirror, I could see the hatred and rage that shone in its eyes as it watched me escape.

This was confirmed as the creature vanished from the limited light my tail lights produced, and I heard a high-pitched, infernal, keening wail of a hunter who has just seen their prey escape. Things are somewhat blurry after that. I knew I drove straight home, down to Albany, and locked all my doors and windows and cowered in the bathroom till the sun rose. I know I went outside to retrieve my backpack and saw the whole left backside of my car crushed in like it had been hit by a truck. It was a wonder the wheel wasn't damaged at all.

I know I called the knee. New York State Forest Rangers and told them about my encounter. My initial relief from their willingness to look into the matter to turn to a spine-tilling chill when the veteran ranger talking to me ended the call with, you probably should never go back there. You have pissed it off and it has your scent. I've never seen anyone walk out of those mountains twice when it has their scent. Life has.

gone somewhat back to normal. I'm in the safe bastion of a city, and nothing spooky or abnormal has occurred around me. After a year of gathering my thoughts and rationalizing that night, convincing myself it was bear or some other animal, I thought I was ready to go back to the Adirondacks. Breathe in some of that sweet mountain air,

my mind and body were craving. That idea was quell, when a co-worker of mine borrowed my backpack to go camping with some friends in the mountains. After a night full of queer noises and eldrish cries, his friends found him in pieces. Most of them skewered onto tree branches, and my backpack, so shredded you couldn't tell it was a backpack to begin with. Well, I don't think I'll ever step foot into those mountains again. Our final story this evening is The Cabin with the Red Light by Mr. Evan 312.

Her luck had officially run out when she felt her leg connect with a tall root arching out of the ground at shin height. Without so much as a second to curse, the young woman toppled to the ground in a heap, scraping along the dirt and leaves before coming to a stop in a moaning, defeated, miserable pile. Her fair skin was smudged with dirt. Her long, open hair was tangled in a mess of pine needles, twigs and burrs. Her simple, light blue dress was all but unrecognizable from all the brambles and scrap

she had endured in her flight. She knew these woods like the back of her hand, and even in the dark she'd know her way around if she were blind. But tonight she had gone too far, and even with the light of the full moon to guide her, as she laid on the forest floor nursing her bruise leg, she had to admit defeat.

She, was utterly lost. The girl had known this time would come, and while she also knew that escape was certainly hopeless, it was better than meeting her fate in the isolated ranch house deep in the forest that had become her prison ever since she married that man. That man, so seemingly suave and handsome in his city ways, his nice clothes,

a man who could speak with a feather-soft voice. one moment and bite into her soul the next. Just like the way his leather belt bit into her flesh. Three years she surrendered to his abuses, his tirades, his endless controlling of her. There were no friends to see the bruises, no family to see her tears, just her and that monster who made this poor young woman the soul

focus of all the darkness in his blackened soul. But no man, no matter how evil, brilliant or forceful, can go forever without making a mistake. That night, he'd had too much to drink. The fire water had made him clumsy and careless. She managed to trip him, stunning him when his head hit the wall, and to her joy the door had not been padlocked. With no hesitation and just the clothes on her back, she bolted into the night. his furious roars fading into the distance as she ran into the darkness.

She felt no small amount of relief when she found that, while painful, her leg was not broken, and she could put her weight on it. It was swiftly bleeding, however, and she'd have to get it seen to when she found a town. If I find a town, she thought to herself, that would only come by sheer luck, for she had no clue where she had no clue where she was. she was. Never in the past half of a decade has she ever gotten so far away from the house, and even if she had, the night masked everything in such a way that not only made her loose her way, but made her feel small. It was all she could do not to curl up and a ball and cry.

Ain't no time for that, the woman sternly told herself, speaking aloud for the first time in a while, no longer afraid of a back hand. You're a big girl. Big girls don't cry. Big girls keep chugging along. Dusting off her blouse as best she could, so she did, albeit painfully as her shin had begun to swell. The footfalls became heavy as her endless sprint through the forest had taken a toll on her energy.

And just as she finally crested a small hill, hoping to get her. her bearings, she felt that her legs would give out all together. And then she saw it. A head, in a little clearing of brush and tall grass, lined with tree stumps, was a log cabin. It looked to be little more than a big shed, and was roughly built, but looked solid. There was a single window by the sturdy looking front door that pulsed with a dim but distinctive red light. I must be dreaming, the young woman said out loud to herself.

Shouldn't be nobody for miles. Then, as she blinked to clear her vision as if something in her eye could be playing tricks on her, she saw a shadow move past the window. Someone was home. Something must have come over her, for, as she was, the woman began to stumble towards the little house,

tears running down her face and stuttering incoherently as loud as she could. Reaching the door, she fell against the indeed solid planks and iron hinges, hounding with her fist with all her waning strength. Somebody in there? Please, help me, please. Somebody, any... The door flew open without so much of the... as a squeak of a rusty hinge, startling the girl into losing her balance. Falling forward, she landed on her rear and stared up at the resident of the cabin, who silently considered her from his place upon the threshold.

The red light was dimmer than she thought, so most of what she could make out was his silhouette. He was not a big man. In fact, he had narrow shoulders, a slim build and was not much taller than she was. His cheeks looked hollow, with a hint of stubble. The bones of his face, what little she could see, were angular and sharp, as if the skin of his face were drawn tight over his skull. His hair was short and unkempt, and he wore a loose-fitting shirt and pants. Yet, despite all this, the eerie light gave the man an off-putting feeling.

There was no doubt in her mind that this was a strange man. One of his eyes was visible in the light, watery, but with a flinty, cold stare that almost sent a shiver running up this girl's spine. He looked her dead in the face with an almost dead expression. What are you doing out here this time of night, girl? His voice was coarse, very low and gravely. The voice of a man who smoked a lot and always kept his voice to a whisper. His tone was so passive, the girl could not. tell if he was angry or concerned.

Please, she whimpered, still sitting on the ground. He'll kill me if he catches me. I don't know where I am. He didn't move from where he stood in the door, nor did his eyes break contact with hers. Run along, girl. You're better off for me not helping you. With that, he made to shut the door,

turning away from her. "'Wait!' She tried to stand up, but winced in pain, and instead sat up straighter, reaching as far forward as she could. The man stopped and turned to her again, this time eyeing her up and down. His eye finally drifted to her leg, which was visible in the dim glow, and he saw her wound. He looked back at her face, then to her leg, and, for a moment she could have sworn she she saw the look in his eyes soften a little.

Letting out a sigh, the man swung open the door again, standing aside to let her through. Best get inside, then. Can't have you limping around the woods all scraped up like that, can we? The girl could not get inside the house quick enough. Standing up successfully this time, she hobbled into the home and plopped down to a roughly built stool the man had provided for her.

Now inside, she got a better idea of the cabin's layout. It was sparsely furnished, and all with what looked to be handmade furniture. There were two stalls, some crates, a small stove, a table, a pile of wood, and a bed in the farthest corner from the door. On a small box next to the bed was a lamp, its glass case coated in some kind of red paint that tinted the light it gave off. The man shut the door behind her, but he did not bolt it, and he turned to face her, now with a light fully upon him. He was indeed not a big man. He was very thin, and his face was the most haunting that she had ever seen. His eyes were sunken, irises so blue that they almost look white, they looked like he'd not shaved in a week.

dark bags Han Nungri's eyes and his unkempt hair only added to the image of a very bedraggled creature He looked like he should have been in his late thirties No older than the girl But the air about him made him seem incredibly old

weary and spent Like a dying old mule He advanced within a short range of her And knelt to examine her wound He brought his face close to it and sniffed it a couple of times, and she felt his hands clench a little tighter for a moment before loosening their grip.

She was surprised at this, but he seemed to pay her no mind. He poured some warm water from a kettle on the stove over the wound and began to dabberd it with a handkerchief he withdrew from his breath pockets. The water felt soothing, and his hands, while knobbly with spindly fingers, were very gentle. As he worked, without looking her, in the face. He spoke up

for the first time in what felt like hours that she had been sitting there. You didn't answer me, girl. She snapped back to reality, having nearly dozed off. The night's events had taken their toll on her.

Beg pardon? Was a girl doing out in the woods on a night like this, with a herd leg, no less. She wasn't sure whether or not to trust the man with the truth just yet. Something about all this left an uneasy feeling in her belly. I got lost, hit my leg on a root or something, while running around like a fool.

This was, of course, true, but not the entire truth. She could not know if this man knew her husband, after all. Indeed, he muttered. That don't answer why, though, don't it? He looked up at her face from where he knelt by a leg. In that passive, chilling look could come over him again. Something in his eyes was compelling. Hard to resist like a steam train bearing down the iron tracks.

Forcing herself to look away, she continued. My man, you see, he's a right, heartless bastard. Beats me like a dog some days. This is awful things to me. He chokes me. after death. Marion Hymn was the stupidest thing I ever did. I finally escaped tonight, and here I am.

His face did not change, but his head tilted slightly to the side as he considered her story. Hmm, that's so. The man did not sound disbelieving, nor did he sound surprised. He almost sounded disinterested, distracted like a busy pace. trying to humor an excited child. He tied the handkerchief around her leg, not too tightly, and stood up. His stance was slightly stooped,

in a way that made him look incredibly tired, and yet as he stood over her, she felt dwarfed by him. Well, it'd be a shame if he caught you out there. Sounds like you're quite the lucky little lady. With that, he turned and wretched. went over to the stove, casting a shadow over the girl. Her eye glanced over to the door. Next to the doorframe, there was a large wood axe leaning against the wall.

You wouldn't know my man, would you? She asked tentatively. A raspy, almost wheezy chuckle came from the man's throat. No, girl, I wouldn't. Matter of fact, I came to these woods to be alone. Why'd you want to be alone? However, it was not his isolation that worried her, but rather her own. At that moment, she had never felt so far from salvation. Because I ain't like most people, girl. He still was not facing her, but something about his tone of voice was.

unsettling. There was almost a touch of excitement to his words that grew as he spoke. Perhaps the loneliness had gotten to the poor man. See, ever since I was a boy, something happens to me on nights like these, something awful. The man began to turn, and her blood turned to ice in her veins when she saw the look in his eyes. Ice that seemed to have lost all pupils and were turning into a milky white. His mouth was beginning to twist into an evil smile as he slowly rotated to face her.

And when it happens, I get this urge, see? He took a step towards her, causing the girl to squirm instinctively in her seat. The grin stretched across the man's face was inhuman. and his neck began to twitch. She could have sworn that suddenly he'd grown in stature right in front of her.

His fire in my belly starts to burn me up from the inside out. I feel like I'm dying. I've got to get what I need and you know what I need, girl. He began to move closer and in her panic. The young woman fell off a stool and began to back into the corner of the cabin. Even the screams she so desperately wanted to release were frozen in her throat. You ever been so hungry, you feel like you got live coals in your belly? Like you got boiling water in your veins, like molten iron in your skull.

The man moves slowly but inexorably, pinning. her in the corner with no escape. I ain't no one ever been that hungry but me. God, it hurts. His voice climbed in volume and pitch, the excitement of fervour in his voice, building so high it threatened to burst the top off the house. I told you, girl,

you'd have been better off last in the woods. But don't worry. At least it won't hurt you as much as it hurts me. He raised both hands towards her face, only inches from grabbing her with those long fingers of his. Her eyes flicked futilely to the door, and the breath hitched in her throat. The door was open, having swung open noiselessly, and the axe was gone. There was a sickening crack like the sound of a breaking tree branch, and for a moment, The strange man's eyes returned to normal as a look of shock came across his face.

He groaned once and clapped to the floor, dead as a dawnet. The axe, its handle still quivering, was buried deep in the middle of his back. The blow had fallen dead centre on his spine. The momentary warmth of relief froze as cold as ice when she looked up, and dread robbed her of any words of thanks when she saw the face of her saviour. Her husband stood there, panting and furious. His eyes were still bloodshot from the drink and the sheen of sweat glistened on his face. He'd always been a burly man, a naturally strong specimen, vital and overpowering like the whiskey he guzzled almost every night. Compared to the stranger,

who he had just killed with their own axe. He seemed like a giant. Fuming, he grabbed her by the collar of her dress and yanked the girl to her feet. Nice try, you silly little bitch. Gave your man an awful scare. Something could have happened to you. His tone was mocking with not a tinge of concern to be heard.

You know what this means when we get back home. She struggled as best she could, clawing against his grip and trying to squirm out of his grasp. But even drunk, his hands were like iron clamps. She may as well have been trying to wriggle out of the stocks. She kicked at his shins, distinctively hitting bone with her shoe and earning her a pained grunt. He released one of his hands and delivered a back hand to her face that blasted stars across her vision. knocking her to the floor all the way to the other end of the room. She tried to sit up and shield her eyes,

but the room seemed to swim. He towered over her like a tree. She might as well have been resisting a mountain. In her despair, the girl could have sworn she saw something move in the corner behind her husband. He leaned down to grab her again, and she shut her eyes, bracing her eyes. bracing herself for the pain of another attack. You know, what's worse than feeling hungry?

said a raspy voice. She opened her eyes again, and the husband froze in place. The stranger's hand twitched, then clenched, placing its palm on the floor and pushing upwards with the sound of splintering bone. He hushed his back and got to his feet. the axe falling out of his spine with a squelch.

The eyes were now almost glowingly white, and a scowl covered the man's face, revealing a set of sharp teeth. In the red light, the girl must have misjudged the man's height. Now he stood a head taller than her husband. His limbs seemed longer than she remembered. His arms and legs, and now small body made him look like a huge, crooked,

by pedal spider. Making me angry before the girl's vile spouse could react, the stranger grabbed him by the neck with both hands, lifting the spluttering, choking abuser as if he were made of straw. Those limbs, spindly and thin as they were, must have been hopelessly strong. He struggled against the stranger's grasp like a fish on a hook.

The life rapidly being choked out of him as he kicked against thin air. As the husband squirmed and writhed with what strength he had left, the creature looked down at the girl whose head had now cleared and only sat on the floor watching in sheer terror, the shock having robbed her of words or flight. The scowl turned into a small smile as he regarded her. Best be running along, girl. It looked back at her husband

whose eyes were bulging in their sockets As his windpipe was being crushed And a distinct crunching noise Could be heard as those long fingers drew even tighter For I finish A main cause Releasing his grip with one hand The creature brought back his arm

And plunged his open free hand Into the husband's chest with a sound like a hammer hitting a watermelon, crushing bone and sloshing past flesh and muscle as he felt around the man's rib cage. The husband gave one last twitch, and then hung limp, his wet laundry left out to dry, as the girl got up and made to leave.

Just before she left that cabin for good, she saw the creature retract its arm and withdraw with it, her husband's steaming, sopping, wet heart. As she sprinted away in the night, never to see her husband or that strange man, that creature, ever again. In that moment of shock, a fit of laughter came over her.

The woman struggled to breathe as she ran and ran, over hills, through the trees, around boulders, but almost the whole way she laughed and laughed. As the forest gave way to Flatlands and the forest floor gave way to a dirt road She saw the lights of civilization on the horizon It was then that she stopped And wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes

And chortled to herself Well I guess the bastard had a heart after all The moon illuminated a patiently waiting figure under the rain A large, small, small, small, Mudge silhouette approached it from the distance. Horses panted as the wooden wheels rolled through the mud. Once close enough, the ornamented wooden carriage came to a halt. Two mounted lanterns showed the coachman tilting his hat. A tall, well-dressed, pale man exited, lifted the figure's

luggage and invited it in. The muffled sound of multiple raindrops landing on the roof made the interior cozy. Dry and sheltered from the cold autumn wind. The torments of the torments man sat next to an even paler, middle-aged woman in a beautiful white dress. The figure's visage came clearer as it sat on the opposite side. You are Lady Hortense, yes. A blonde woman, palers both of them, tilted her head. So I am, the older woman frowned. And you are Miss Esther.

It seems my expectations were too high. She let out a disappointed sigh. Why would you wear those? The woman's shirt, trousers and boots emitted a cheap perfume. No need for the miss. Just Esther. Pursuits in fancy dresses end badly. I understand.

But surely you'll change into something more appropriate once we reach the city. I assure you I will. But I wasn't called here for fashion advice, was I? Of course, of course. Hortense's condescending frown disappeared. You heard of the murders. The entire kingdom has. My assignment is to slay the killer.

Oh, if only it were that easy. Most of the city's police are after it. Men have volunteered, and each day we hire more of your sort. She glanced at the pale man. You, Miss Esther, shall serve as one of my personal guards. my estate, my property, my family, the killer is not to come anywhere near. Obey these basic orders, and you shall receive the agreed assets each month. I received your letter. I've already agreed.

I enjoy repeating myself. It prevents misunderstandings. An evil smile creeped on the woman's face. Welcome! come. Carriage entered the city. Each building consisted of wood and brick. Their chimneys let out smoke, indicating the population hiding from the cold night. It passed one of the city's larger pubs. Mugs in their hands, two men watched the rain from inside.

Aside their table, the crowd of people sang, laughed, drank and ate. Each person in the pub was from the working class. therefore they wore similar clothing. All this has made me think, Ralph, a young man, licked his lips. How are people this happy? Come to think of it, they were sadder before the murders. His older friend Paul smiled.

I've been around long enough to answer that question. Compensation. Compensation. What? Compensation. When it's summer, do you light a fire? Why would I? The sun would be burning my head? Paul pointed towards a group of people, standing around the fireplace in the middle of the hall.

It's cold now, so we light a fire. I'm not following. If the cold wasn't here, would we be together around a fire? I get you. When something bad happens, we want to feel better. Say, if you get stuck in a chimney, you'd want a beer. I'd usually want one anyways, but if I get stuck in a chimney, I'd really want one. Well, when something much worse like murders happen, people need something much better to heal themselves.

Each other's company, getting drunk, laughing, basically forgetting about the monster in the streets for a moment. And thinking of the love in our homes. Ralph rubbed the back of his neck. I get what you're saying. He took a sip of his beer. but how can we just ignore it? I said, forget it for a moment. Dozens of men are currently out there.

Paul pointed at the window. Two men with rifles patrol the streets in the distance. Enjoy this little moment you have. He smiled. Ralph smiled back. You're right. A loud thud made him spill half of his beer. What?

The two friends turned around. The songs and laughter stopped. Two men faced each other amongst the crowd of seated people. One towered over the other and had his sleeves pulled back. I saw you. I saw your eyes. The other man was much skinnier and looked nervous. No, you're making a big mistake. He had yellow eyes. He's the monster.

A few others stood up in a little. approach them. I heard it can turn into a man, a whisper came from the crowd. If it were to choose, we're all dead. More people surrounded the skinny man. No, I, no, no, don't do this. Ralph walked up to the tall, aggressive man. You're drunk, relax. This is the third guy you've accused. We're all friends here. The ones who had gotten up looked at each other and sat back, down. The tall man grabbed Ralph by the collar. And you've protected each one. Which side are you on? He punched him in the nose, sending him a step back. Ralph punched back, and things quickly escalated to a fight. A group of men sighed and stood up. Come back when you learn some manners. Both men

flew out of the bar and fell into the mud. Ralph mumbled something under his nose as he got up. You got us kicked out, you gib face. Finally realizing his mistake, the aggressive man shook his head and walked away into the rain. Ralph ran his hand through his wet brown hair and leaned on the pub's wall. Hey, the skinny man walked out. Thanks for saving me. Yeah, that drunk had it coming. When they let you back in, I'll buy you a beer. I could really use one right now. Ralph laughed. Ah, compensation. He scratched his chin.

Haven't seen you around here before. Between me and you, I work for a noble man. Due to the murders, he fled the city, left me without a job. Before Ralph could say another word, his eyes locked on the silhouette of a man. Half hidden behind one of the buildings, he watched them from an alley opposite the pub. Are you seeing that? The skinny man turned his head. See what?

There was a man there. Ralph didn't move his eyes from the alley where the man had been. I think it's best to go inside. Together they walked back in and sat next to Paul. Your nose is bleeding. You really have to stop getting into fights, he laughed. And who may you be? He turned to the skinny man.

Ralph sat down This is What's your name? Uriah I'm sorry if you say this But I won't be buying you that beer The skinny man checked his empty pockets Before they could say another word

A deafening shout Made the entire pub go quiet Everyone slowly turned towards the windows That sounded like the drunk Ralph whispered A few of the men along with Paul, took their hats off, showed some respect. Everyone slowly returned to laughing and having a good time.

A loud slam made all the patrons look at the centre of the hall. A well-built man in an expensive attire had slammed a stool against the floor. He slowly got on top of it and towered above everyone. Enjoying our evening, are we? By no means allow the murderer to ruin your mood. His judgmental eyes moved across the crowd. Who are you to judge us? Go back to your fancy manner, you pansy fist fuck.

One of the poorly dressed men shouted. I am not here to judge those who carry the city. I am here because I shan't let our brothers and sisters die. Got a hero, have we? Another patron shouted. I am no hero, good sir. His expression changed to a more serious time. Some of you volunteered to patrol the streets.

So we have. What's it to you? I am also a volunteer. Multiple people laugh when the man said those words. And I am here to provide. His eyes moved to a specific patron. My good sir. Workhouse?

The patron nodded. Wife and kids as well. The man on the stool looked at another person. Oh, all right, give me a second. The man on the stool looked at another patron who nodded as well. Well, I shan't prolong this. I possess the knowledge of capturing the murderer. The pub went quiet.

He had everyone's attention. Neither the force nor the nobles see offence as a possibility. The force is on the urge of giving up, and the nobles cower in their little pieces of personal heaven. I say we stop being idle I say we shouldn't tolerate the loss of our brothers and sisters He got off the stool and extended his hand I have resources

Greatly rewarded with coin and fame Will be those who choose to join me You shall be armed, fed and sheltered Paul walked up to him And what would our duties be To join me to join me in the woods where we hunt down the murderer. When?

In three days. Everyone's faces became even paler than they already were. Paul licked his lips. The moon will be full in three days if the rumors are true. As I said, I know how, but I can't do it alone. People traded glances. I give each and every one of you my word. If you follow my instructions, all of us will return as heroes.

Ralph walked up, extended his arm and placed his palm above the man's hand. You are the first noble I have seen to come here. I'll join you. Paul silently watched him for a few seconds, before extending his hand as well. I accept your offer. Uriah nervously approached. Without making eye contact, he placed his palm on theirs. I haven't eaten in a while, he whispered.

Two other men joined in. The noble gave the rest of the pub a disappointed look. His eyes moved back to the men. You are all brave. Tomorrow we meet at noon. He passed each of them enough money for a warm meal and then disappeared into the crowd. Three days of us.

passed. Our hunting party camped outside the woods, waiting for the moon to rise. Aside from myself and Paul, three others were present. Uriah, the man I say from the drunk of the pub, Cole, one of the two volunteers, and the noble who was paying us. The second volunteer never showed. The noble had introduced himself as Sir Gideon. None of us really knew if what he talked of was real. One thing was for sure. though, he believed it was. He vaguely explained that some monk had told him what the killer was

and where to find him. His personal scholars gathered information afterwards, which confirmed the monk's story. This noble, supposedly being the only person to know all of this, aroused suspicion among us, but he was wealthy and paid

as well. Everyone knew the pattern. A few months ago, the murders had begun. Each night a person would be gruesomely stabbed to death and once a month when the moon was full multiple people would be brutally mutilated people said they'd heard howls at night

that they'd seen it it was rumoured the murderer was cursed for his sins and now takes the shape of a wolf each full moon so Gideon firmly believed in those rumours he'd told us of how he'd tracked the murderer for weeks human footprints led into these very woods and wolfpaws on the same path led towards the city

the transformation took time and the murderer needed a secluded safe area the people who weren't hiding in their houses were guarding the city no one would come here at night he armed each of us with a torch a dagger a musket and a flintlock pistol we were given pouches with special ammunition

but aside from the noble and coal, none of us had much experience with hunting. While there was still light and it wasn't raining, the weather was cold, so we had a small fire. Cole had his eyes on me as we ate. So, Ralph, do you have family? Isn't that something you ask when you might die? I slowly chewed the side of a carrot. If the killer were to take it to take. take the form of a beast, he said to have mutilated entire patrols on a full moon.

The scent-hound calmly waited in between cold feet. The patrols didn't have this special ammunition. It should take it down. I looked at Gideon. It should, right. He nodded with a smile. I have given you all my word. I have not forgotten. Follow the instructions and all of us will live. From when we'd met him, the noble had repeated multiple times how all of us are to speak as if he is one of us. It felt strange, though, to Eden talk together. Brothers, are we well rested and prepared? All of us awkwardly nodded. The sun had almost entirely disappeared.

Then we shall begin. Gideon stood up. He was the only one of us who carried a sword. follow my lead all of us lit our torches and made our way towards the woods even though the forest became denser as we walked the leafless trees made it easier to see cold took a deep breath the wind is moving in our direction good the scent hound constantly sniffed if we are not alone in these woods eva will know he held the short leash tightly Uriah waved his torch around in all directions as if something would sneak up on him. Sir Gideon, the woods are vast. How do we know where to search? The moon still has not risen. The killer is currently a mere man. He isn't capable of moving any faster than us.

He cannot be far from the city. The scent hound began to bark and pulled coal forward. She found something. Torching one hand, dog leased in the other, he led the group through the forest. Traversing the woods had become extremely difficult. The danger of slamming into a tree, falling down a pit, or just tripping, made running a bad choice. We hastily maneuvered around the multiple obstacles nature threw at us. Myself and Uriah drew our pistols when Cole warned us we were close. We emerged from the trees and found ourselves in a small forest clearing,

with a stone well in the centre. The scent hound stood on its hind legs and leaned its paws on the well. Cole carefully peaked into the darkness. Be it the killer or something else, there is a man down this well. He calmed his dog and took a step back. So the killer lives in a well? I inspected what seemed to be a perfectly normal well. Gideon dropped his torch in it.

The ball of light illuminated the dark, dry interior as it landed at the bottom. From our point of view, we could see an entrance, which led to an underground tunnel. Paul moved his hand across the stone surface. Why would there be a well here? Two glowing dots flashed in the dark tunnel, beyond the light of the torch. This is something down there, I shouted. Everyone, including the hound, bundled up around the well. I saw it, I saw his eyes. Did you see it? From all the men, only Uriah nodded.

I saw it too. Something was watching us. Paul scratched his beard. It must be some kind of animal. Either it fell down and got stuck, or there's another entrance somewhere close. Cole let out a sigh. There is a man down there. Ever's nose doesn't lie. Also, I haven't heard a single animal since we entered the woods. Gideon leaned against the well and crossed his arms. He thought for a moment before looking at us. You shall lower me down the well. I put my palm against my face.

Are you insane? We have no idea what's down there, nor do we know how big the tunnel is. Paul put his hand on the noble shoulder. I'm coming with you. I don't know how, but in less than three minutes, Paul convinced all of us he knew what he was doing. Uriah and I held a long rope at the top, the bottom of which hung in the well. Uriah's hands were shaking. Are you sure you can do this?

The noble nodded and cautiously crawled into the well. We watched as he slowly climbed down. Good evening. A calm voice came from our back. Everyone instantly turned around. Ten metres from us, half sticking out of the trees. A young woman in torn rags watched us. How did your mutt not smell her?

I whispered to cold. The girl extended her hand towards us. It's so cold out here. Thank you for bringing fire. Her whisper was barely audible. Who's up there? Sir Gideon's voice echoed from the well. A young woman, I yelled back.

Paul smiled and took a step forward. Are you lost? We could see him holding his pistol behind his back. Do you know what this well is? The moment he approached her, she hid deeper behind the trees. We could now only see half of her face. We can get you home. We won't hurt you.

Paul holstered his pistol. Something pulled on the rope with great strength. A few rocks cracked where the rope turned, slamming me and Eurya against the wall. The rope painfully slid through our palms. We heard Gideon fall. The only thing we could see was something pulling the noble deep into the darkness. He let out a pain-filled yell, but shortly went quiet. We couldn't see him anymore.

"'Gydean!' I shouted. The rope was gone, so going after him wasn't an option. Now that he'd stop yelling, we could hear Paul yelling. By this point our necks were tired from constantly turning from one problem to another. The young woman was trying to pull Paul into the forest. Dagger in hand, he slashed her multiple times, attempting to free himself from her grip. Cole shouted and dropped the leash. All calmness left the sent hound's eyes as it bolted towards the attacker.

It tackled the woman down to the ground, freeing Paul who instantly joined us. The dog dragged her out of the woods. Cole shouted again. It calmed down and ran back to his side. Now that we could see her up close. Something was terribly wrong about this woman. The wounds left from Paul's dagger and Cole's hound didn't bleed. cuts, gashes and holes in her body reveal black muscle.

She blinked and locked eyes with me. You said you'd get me home, she whispered as she slowly stood up. Uriah dropped his torch and aimed his musket. The moment we saw what he was doing, all of us jumped back and held our palms against our ears. If there were others in the woods, the deafening shot let them know exactly where we were. Uriah waved his hand to clear the cloud of smoke around him. Why would you do that?

Cole shouted as he moved his palms away from the scent hound's ears. The shot had launched the woman a meter back. She laid on her back without moving. The gaping hole in her forehead emitted steam. You murdered someone, I think. I looked at her closely. She was already dead Your eye was going through the slow process of reloading his firearm

I recognised her She's one of the murder victims Where do you know her from A brothel We looked closely and saw that Aside from the new wound she had gained Her body was covered in scars A long one across her throat stood out the most

I looked around not knowing what I was searching for. What now? Don't know about you, mate, but I'm going home. Cole tried to clear his ears with his pinky finger. Paul looked at the well. We can't just leave him. I'm staying.

He might still be alive. I grabbed him by the shoulders. Paul, it's too late. Our best chance is to go back and gather more people. We shouldn't. Go back A voice similar to the woman's whisper came from the woods

We turned to see the drunk from the pub He wore rags and had scars all over his body Let's go back It's cold here He watched us from behind the trees So very cold Mother Where are you

A second figure slowly crawled out. This time a young boy. Why did you leave me? A fat woman emerged from the woods. Cole. More silhouettes could be seen in between the branches. I frowned and looked

at Cole. If we're not alone in these woods ever will know. I mockingly imitated him. We stood next to the well in the centre of the clearing. The undead murder victim slowly walked towards us.

We lifted our torches and nervously looked for an escape route. Cole calmed down for a second. Hey, wait, why are we running? It's a miracle these people are still alive. Shouldn't we get them back to their loved ones? The fat woman opened her mouth, revealing her teeth, all of which were razor sharp. You are warm, she whispered.

We broke into a sprint. I could see Cole lift his dog with both hands and run a random direction. Uriah let out a girlish scream, dropped his musket, and fled as well. Paul and I tried to find the way we'd come from. While the victims were many in numbers, they were slow. If we kept calm, maneuvering around them wouldn't be too difficult. Whatever these people were, they became fewer as we moved away from the clearing. I think they're gone.

We looked to all of our sides. It was an entire miracle we hadn't hit a tree or tripped on a rock. Once I was calm enough, I smiled and faced Paul. I guess Sir Gideon didn't follow his own instructions. The man died, trying to stop a murderer. Show some respect. Sorry, you're right. Hall's eyes widened.

What's wrong? I asked. grabbed me by the collar and pulled me towards him. One of the victims had snuck up from behind me. It sunk its sharp teeth into Paul's shoulder. He yelled and stabbed the creature's eye with his dagger. Blade still in its head, it collapsed. Paul, are you all right?

Definitely more painful than a dog bite. He put his palm over the wound. I tore off a piece of my sleeve and bandaged my friend. Oh Paul, he saved me He'll buy me a beer when we return to the pub Come on, keep moving We kept on walking through the woods Do you think Cole and Uriah are alive

I didn't look at Paul when I asked this question We can only hope We should have stayed together I think they should be able to handle themselves Besides, the worst has passed The clouds in the night sky tore apart, revealing the full moon. Our torches were no longer needed as the moonlight lit up the forest. For a moment, we stopped and stared into each other's eyes.

A few seconds passed, and then we continued walking. I smiled. At least Gideon was wrong about the rumors. Rumors? The ones he told us about the killer. how some believe he can take the form of... mere piercing screams of pain sounded from the direction of the forest clearing. I looked at my torch.

Paul, the torches will only give away our location. With the moonlight, we don't need them. I hurled my torch into the woods. Ralph, no, Paul shouted. The dry branches quickly caught fire. A forest fire will also give out our location. I grabbed his torch out of his hands and hurled it in the woods as well. Well, let's hope this slows him down.

Before Paul could say another word, the screaming had stopped. And that's when we heard it. The uncanny howl of a monster. A monster which was most likely heading towards the city to kill. We moved as fast as possible, hoping we could escape in time. When we get out of the woods, we're still quite a distance from the forest. the city and nervously whispered. Paul looked back at me and the rapidly growing forest fire, if, if we get out.

The trees became fewer, and soon we exited the woods and found ourselves out in the open. The few city lights in the distance gave us hope. The only obstacle in our way was a vast field with no hiding spots. So we bolted. Ralph, wait up We hadn't even passed half the distance when Paul slowed down I turned around Come on, we're almost there

Almost there Maybe for you I'm not as fast as I used to be Go, I'll catch you up at the pub Remember, you still owe me a beer Paul, I'm not leaving you We're getting out of here together Ralph

I haven't been feeling too well the last few months I've been getting worse pains in my chest I don't know how long I have even if I reached the city You're telling me this now I shouted

You had enough troubles Do this for me Please Just go A little back at the forest fire Burning silhouettes Of the murder victims Were emerging from the woods

Paul smiled and nodded Promise me you'll come back to the pub His smile faded He didn't answer I kissed him on the forehead Smiled Spat to the side And ran towards the city

I never look back I ran I ran as fast as my legs could carry me I stole a look over my shoulder As I watched the bushes behind me begin to part as whatever was chasing me began to emerge. Before I could catch sight of the beast, I felt my body make contact with a solid concrete wall. I winced in pain as my breath was forced out of my lungs from the impact.

I crouched, slowly began to try and catch my breath. I've got to slow my heart down, I thought to myself as I began to slow my breathing down and focus on what to do next. The creature that chased me would be on me in seconds if I didn't find a way past this wall. My eyes scanned over the concrete wall that seemed to span for as far as the eye could see. My eyes soon landed on a small hole

close to where I was standing. It was roughly the size of a manhole. An ear-piercing shriek sounded behind me as I looked back in horror. The beast was now fully emerged from its spot in the trees. From what I could see in the darkness, it looked part rodent, part arachnid, part humanoid, if that even makes sense. Needless to say, I didn't waste any time in scrambling into the little tunnel.

It was barely big enough for me to crawl on my hands and knees. Heart beating too fast, I reminded myself as I began to slow my breathing and clear my head. I then suddenly felt the walls of the tunnel begin to brush against my sides and back. I stopped for a second and realised that the tunnel was growing more and more narrow as I went on. The creature screech echoed off of the tunnel walls. It must have found the entrance. I could hear his claws scraping just several feet behind me. Well, there was no going back now.

I sank to my stomach and began to army crawl forward as fast as I could. Soon it got to the point where I couldn't even fit my hands by my side anymore. In the pitch black, I couldn't see if I was heading toward a dead end or an exit. I could feel the creature behind me as its long antennae began to brush against the back of my legs. I was almost within reach. I squirm forward, hand outstretched in front of me. My heart began to race as I suddenly noticed that there was water beginning to flow freely into the tunnel. It pulled quickly around me, and I found myself half submerged within seconds.

I lifted my head back and drew in one final breath before the water went over my head. My body suddenly stopped as I felt the walls close in around me tightly. I was stuck. My lungs burned as the last of the oxygen was spent, and a searing pain shot through my body as one of the creature's claws dug into the calf of my leg. There was nothing else I could do. I closed my eyes and began to focus on slowing my heart down. then suddenly I could hear the countdown

ten nine eight seven six five four three two one light suddenly erupted around me

and I sat up to the sound of cheers and applause the dome above the bed I was lying in lifted and I stood to my feet I was standing on a stage surrounded by cameras. There were several domes around me, but one of them empty. The only other occupied one contained a burly figure

who also stood to his feet. Ladies and gentlemen, the voice boomed over the speakers. I give you our final contestants. The game was simple. The contestants were to lie on their backs in what we referred to as the dome. While inside, we would be put into a

coma-like state while small electrodes were gently placed on our temples and chests. The ones on our chest were attached to a halter monitor, and the ones on our temples came from a neurostimulator, all done by professionals, of course. While inside the simulation, we will be put into several scenarios for five minutes at a time. Each scenario will be based on our worst fears. While inside the simulation, our heart rate would be closely monitored, and if it were to ever reach over 110.1 beats per minute, we will be forcefully ejected out of the simulation and automatically forfeit the match. The entire simulation will be projected on the big screen

for the audience to watch from our point of view. If the contestant was ejected, the screen would fade to black to the sound of a comical chicken clucking, echoing through the speakers, much to the amusement of the crowd. There were nine levels altogether, one being silly child, feared and nine being five minutes in actual hell. Remember the first one for me. I was standing in a dark basement of an abandoned building as hundreds of rats scampered across the floor around my feet. The occasional one darting up the side of my leg

or leaping onto my sweat-stained body. This was a recurring nightmare I used to have based on a childhood memory when I accidentally disturbed a rat's nest after being dared to go into the abandoned basement of my friend's house. Although the sight immediately made me uneasy, I didn't get as worked up as I'd expected. The simulations that proceeded went on as such. Walking through a pitch-black tunnel,

strange whispers echoed across the walls, climbing up a steep ladder so high off the ground I could barely see anything from above the clouds. Lying paralysed as dozens of sempteeds crept over my bare skin, being stranded in the open ocean as dark figures circled me and occasionally nudged and tugged on my feet all based on fears and phobias i used to have in the past the dark heights centipedes and the open ocean by the end of the fifth simulation only ten contestants remained who hadn't chickened out The next ones were a little more than unsettling.

They were downright gruesome. The sixth one, I found myself tied to a bed at a dingy hospital as doctors began to perform surgery on me while I was still conscious. I lied there paralysed, unable to move as I felt the scalpel dig into my soft flesh as they slowly made the incision. Oh, it all felt so real. The one after that, I found myself standing on a frozen lake with my niece who suddenly fell through the ice. As I ran to her aid, the hole that she'd fallen through immediately became frozen over

as I began to pound the ice with my bare fists over and over again until my knuckles bled. The whole time watching her, she slowly sank further and further out of sight. Oh, that one nearly did me in. At first, it was embarrassing knowing that the audience had a full, view of the simulations. The last few were very personal, but I try not to let it bother me. I suffer from chronic scoliosis, which is a condition that causes a small curvature of the spine. Every five years or so, I need to undergo surgery to correct it, so I always dreaded hospitals and doctors. My niece was six years old when she drowned, after falling through the ice at a lake

where my family used to enjoy ice skating during the winter. I felt violated afterward, like my worst fears and memories were suddenly opened up for the world to see for their entertainment. And yet, I still pressed on. After the eighth simulation, which played on my crippling claustrophobia,

only me and one other contestant remained. His name was Ray, a supposedly fearless competitor who I believe used to serve as a Marine. I never knew I would make it this far, and my ability to control my heart rate, and remain calm even in the most horrific circumstances, surprise the audience just as much as it surprised me.

Well, maybe those breathing techniques I'd learned while coping with my anxiety had come in handy. Or perhaps it was sheer will alone that helped me get by. After everything I've been through, all the failures and heartbreaks I'd endured, I was determined to win. I'd never been truly good at anything till I entered into this contest.

Don't get me wrong, there were many things I was terrible at, but I always found myself as mediocre at best with everything I tried. Sports, schools, hobbies, I could never really find anything I truly excelled in. I was only ever truly good at one thing, up until now, that is. This was my one chance to prove myself that I had what it takes to show the world that I am a man without fear. I'm able to face my fears to win this contest. None of this is real, so nothing could truly hurt me, right? What did I have to lose? The crowd went wild as the host announced the final contestants who would face off in this final challenge.

The night stage was unknown to everyone in the room, as only a few contestants had ever made it this far in previous seasons, and when they did, the simulation was made private so that the audience could not see it. The screens were blacked out for this simulation. showcasing only the words the truth to the live audience as I entered the dome for the last time I looked over to Ray who gave me a confident

yet sportsman like nods as I was laid onto my back a technician began to place the electrodes to my body and I wondered what the final simulation could be would I be skinned alive by a mass serial killer would I be falling head over heels into a dark and endless pit or would I find myself face to face with me,

facing the truth that I am my own worse fear. My heart rate began to pick up as my mind raced through the possibilities. Take it easy. I murmured to myself as I began to slowly inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth. You've got this, I told myself. I felt myself slowly begin to drift away, ready to face the truth. Light flooded my vision. As my consciousness entered the simulation, I tensed up, ready for anything, expecting horrors beyond comprehension.

My eyes darted about, taking in my surroundings. To my confusion, I discovered the complete opposite. I stood in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by lush vegetation. A gentle breeze blew through the branches, and the sun wore my skin. I relaxed slightly and took in a deep breath. To my amazement, the air tasted sweet and just the feeling of it inside my lungs filled me with a renewed energy I hadn't felt before. I took one step forward, my bare feet brushing across the soft grass. It was then that I noticed something completely different.

The all-too-familiar dull ache in my lower back was gone. I slowly reached behind me and ran my hand down the small of my back the skin was smooth I felt no scar tissue from the countless surgeries I'd had I placed my hands on my hips and leaned back slightly there was no pain at all not even the slightest bit of discomfort yeah over the years I'd grown almost accustomed to that pain

and this was the first time since I could remember that the pain wasn't there Oh, it felt great. My mind raced. How was this possible? Did I die during the simulation? Was this the afterlife? I then noticed something else. I no longer felt the overbearing weight of my depression and anxiety.

Negative thoughts and insecurities were no longer in the back of my mind. I couldn't recall a single bad feeling or painful memory at all. I felt a tearful. from my eye. I wasn't sad. I felt the complete opposite. But the first time in a long time, it genuinely felt happy. I felt at peace with myself and everything around me. With a burst sudden energy, I found myself running out of the clearing and into the forest. My heart pumped faster as I felt a burst of adrenaline. I had never run like this before. As I ran through the forest, I took in all the beauty

that surrounded me. The earth here was different. Different in a way I can't even describe. As I ran, the earth changed around me. One moment it was a lush forest with green leaves and colourful flowers. The next I was on a mountaintop. I could see the clouds below me from where I'd sprinted

as lightning and thunder lit them up in blinding flashes of blue lights. And the next I was on a beach with cool water slashing around my ankles. Then I was by a river, surrounded by towering waterfalls. The mist felt cool and refreshing on my skin as I continued to run, faster and faster than before. It was then that I found the entrance to a cave.

I slowed down to a stop before I stepped inside. I don't know what caused me to go in. I felt like it was just calling to me, like there was something inside I was meant to see. As I walked forward, the light faded into complete darkness. I stopped suddenly, as my hat brushed across the back of the cave. Turning around to head back, I was then surprised to see a dim light begin to fill the inside of the cabin. As I looked around me, I saw thousands of lights begin to pierce the darkness.

Small, translucent glowworms covered the walls in the ceiling of the cave, There are small lights shining like thousands of stars and galaxies. I just stood there, taking in the surrounding beauty. I felt like I was at the center of the universe. I felt like I was on top of the world. I felt like I was in heaven. I never wanted it to end. It was then I heard a distant voice.

Fifty seconds, the voice said. I snubbed out of my train. trance and looked around me in confusion. One by one, the glowing lights began to fade out as the darkness began to creep back in. Forty seconds, the voice said. The countdown, I thought to myself. I was still in the simulation. 30 seconds. I heard it louder this time. My heart began to race as all of a sudden I felt panic began to set in.

No, I wasn't ready to leave. I wanted to stay here. Twenty seconds. The voice droned as the darkness began to creep closer and closer. No! I shouted in fear. No, you can't take me back. Ten seconds, the voice said, indifferently.

No! I screamed again as the last of the lights began to fade out. I'm not ready to go back. Oh, you can't make me go. The voice began to count down from ten to one. I reached out in desperation, trying to catch the last of the fading lights before it was snuffed out, but it was too late. I pounded against the cave walls with all my strength,

screaming until my lungs felt raw, my heart pounding in my chest. After everything I'd been through, my worst fear was the thought of actually retirement. turning to reality. I sat up in a panic. I shielded my eyes as the lights from the stage blinded me temporarily. I felt a sharp pain

as I sat up from my lower back. And we have ourselves a winner. The voice of the announcer boom through the speakers as the crowd got out of their seats and cheered.

I began to sweat as the dream fully faded away and reality slowly sank in. all of my pain my discomfort all of my negative thoughts seemed to be amplified as i could barely stand up out of the dog the air tasted bitter and smelled sound the room was hot and muggy the floor below my feet felt hard and uncomfortable as the announcer stepped forward to congratulate me with an outstretched hand i reached out and grasped him by the front of the shirt send me back i begged him i wasn't finished yet "'No, you weren't,' he said, half laughing. "'But you were seconds away from the five-minute mark.

"'That's a record.' "'Don't you understand?' I shouted. "'I can't take it anymore. "'Please send me back.' "'Began to wrap my hands around his throat in anger. "'I was then jerk back and was roughly put into a chokehold. "'I threw my head back in retaliation, "'feeling it collide with a burly security guard's face.

His grip loosened slightly and I fell face first onto the ground. The crowd began to murmur nervously as I scrambled toward the dog. I grasped the electrodes and clumsily began to try and stick them back onto my temples. It was then I felt a sharp pain to shoot through my body as the guard fired his stun gun right between my shoulders. As my thrashing body hit the ground, I noticed movement from the other side of the stage. A group of medical staff and first responders crowded around Ray's dome. The last thing I remember before I passed out was Ray's lifeless eyes,

as they loaded his limp body onto a stretcher and began to rush him off the stage. The showrunners made a public statement shortly afterward, publicly apologising to the viewers and explaining that what they'd witnessed was not an effect of their machines. It was a mental breakdown due to my medical history. Ray was DOA when we reached the hospital. I overheard the doctor saying it was caused by a ventricular fibrillation during the simulation. For those of you without a medical degree, it means the Marine was scared to death. I was released a few days later.

I received an apology letter from the executives of the show along with my prize money. They added a few zeros to the amount of compensation for any. sort of trauma I might have experienced during the simulation. Well, I knew hush money when I saw it. Since that day, I feel like I live in constant agony. An agony every one of you feels every single day, but may not be aware of it. A pain you've grown all too accustomed to because it's all you ever know. A pain you only realize that exists when you've lived five minutes without it. You don't know the truth Life is pain

Every second of our existence Now I spend my days longing to return to that simulation That place where pain does not exist And my mind is a tease Sometimes in my dreams I catch a glimpse of it for a few seconds Before I'm quickly thrown back into consciousness Oh

I guess Gibran was right when he said your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. October 2009. I purchased my first house during my eighth month of pregnancy. It was located in my hometown, a small, quiet place of maybe 2,500 people who never locked their doors. It was a cute, cottage style, two-level home I'd purchased from a guy I'd gone to high school with. It had been his family since the place was built, yet no one could really say exactly when that was. We decided to set up the nursery in the bedroom downstairs, for obvious reasons, safety and convenience.

The room was painted with three walls beige and one wall a deep maroon colour. Despite the dark wall, the room was very bright and cheerful. The corner furthest away from the entrance was darker than the rest of the room, At first I thought it was because of the maroon and beige colours meeting in the corner. But, even when the sun shone directly in the room, the corner looked pitch black. I decided to put a large dresser in the corner. It gave me chills just to look at it. I just wanted it covered up.

I was a first time new mum. Everything had to be sterilised. So before moving anything in the room, I scrubbed and vacuumed. the entire place. When I started to move the dresser to its assigned corner, a sharp pain ran at the bottom of my barefoot. To my astonishment, I'd stepped on a large piece of glass. The piece was thick.

It looked like it came from a windshield. It even had the tempered coating. More large, thick pieces glistened along the floorboard. I moved the dresser only to find more pieces of broken glass. I couldn't believe it. I'd just thoroughly vacuum this whole room not less than 24 hours before. If the glass was there, I would have gotten it. I checked the dresser from top to bottom, thinking the glass may have been dragged in with it.

Since the glass was on the floor beneath one of the small windows, I thought maybe the window had been broken and replaced at one time. The pieces knocked loose off the sill, even though I'd washed it, when I moved the large dresser near the wall. Nothing, nothing in that room hinted at where the glass could have come from. Once again, I vacuumed the entire carpet, taking great care to get the corners and along the floorboards. I finished setting the nursery up and went to make dinner. I began unpacking dishes, pots and pans, the usual. As I squatted down to put the pots away, I happened

to glance up at the glass of the oven. The reflection revealed the bottom of a late 1800 ladies' nightgap. Just as I realised what I was looking at, it felt as though someone bent over as to cover me. I felt arms wrap around my shoulders to keep me from falling back onto my rear end from the surprise. Then it felt as though whatever was bending over me fell over and went through my body. Like when a person leans too far away. forward and lose his balance. I slowly sat fully on the floor for a long while in disbelief, stunned and confused. I was in a daze trying to comprehend what I just experienced when my boyfriend

came around the counter. He looked at the expression and immediately thought something had happened with the baby. He sat down on the floor with me and wrapped his arms around me asking if I was okay, and this snapped me out of my stupor. I looked at him and told him what had just transpired. I knew that he didn't believe me. He just told me to go lay down. I must have been overtired from the move and being so close to my due date.

He made dinner. We ate and went to bed. The next day I was back in the nursery, putting baby clothes away when I felt the searing pain go through my foot yet again. More glass. It was the same type as before, located in the same place. I couldn't believe it. Again, I moved all the furniture and vacuumed. I even vacuumed the window frame to make sure I got any that may have been left behind. I literally got down on my hands and knees to inspect the carpet for any remnants. Every little piece had been sucked up in the vacuum.

I then called the friend I'd purchased the house from. I knew that the first floor of the house had been totally renovated in the months before the purchase, so I asked my friend if he'd had any problems with finding broken glass in the house. I made sure not to mention the bedroom specifically. There was one long pause before he responded. No, I've never found any broken glass on the floor. I certainly never found any in the dark corner of the bedroom. His response sent cold electricity down my spine.

Beads of fear ran down my forehead and my body stiffened like a statue. I quietly thanked him and hung up the phone. I couldn't do anything but stand there, wondering how the hell I found myself in this B-rated horror movie. November 2009. I gave birth to my beautiful daughter, Avalon, without complication. The father and I brought her home and our new life as a family began.

I would find more glass in the coming days and months. It appeared at random intervals. Sometimes I would have to vacuum several days in a row. Other times weeks would go by without any new discoveries. Each day I would get up before the baby and inspect every millimeter of the carpet. As time went on, I started to notice that the feeling of the room became, well, different.

The darkness in the corner became stronger, emitting a sense of danger and fear. Whenever I went into the room, it felt as though the air thickened and was then sucked out. The baby didn't seem to be bothered. She was always happy no matter where she was, so I thought maybe it was just my imagination. However, it came to a point where I felt dread just walking by the room. At night the rest of the room looked normal, with some light trickling in from street laps. It seemed as though the light from the street and the night light stopped abruptly just before the corner. Fortunately the dresser hit most of it, but I could see the edges of the abyss peeking out. January 2010. I began sleeping downstairs on the

couch so I could keep an eye and ear on the baby. Then I started sleeping on her floor. I felt as though her madness was taking over me, the fear of a dark corner driving me insane. I always felt as though something terrible was in the corner, watching, waiting, taking refuge in the darkness. Some horrible creature was living in the shadow of that goddamn corner and it was waiting for me to let my guard there.

Perhaps it was leaving the glass for me to find. Perhaps the glass was part of it, falling off as it moved around like shedding skin. I knew the glass and the corner were connected. I just couldn't piece it together. March 2011. Avalon was now 16 months old and a force of nature in her own right. Her crib, playpen, safety gates, nothing could hold her untamed character.

I was mother to the princess from the movie Brave meets Dennis the Menace. Never a dull moment. Never. What I couldn't understand was how she would get out of her crib each time I would try to put her down. The crib was vintage. In order to slide down it, to make it easier to pick up or lay down, I would have to reach underneath the bottom of the front panel and push a lever that released the side. It was meant to be used with my foot, sort of a hands-free feature so I could keep both hands on the baby as I laid her down. Every time I walked into her room, she would be playing happily on the floor. The side of the crib lowered.

I was still finding glass on a regular basis, so this was a big concern. By this time the darkness had almost covered an area extending about ten feet from the corner to the middle of the walls on either side. Our cats seemed to agree with me about the fear and dread emanating from the corner and refused to go in the room even though they would always flank Avalon wherever else she was in the house. It was pretty cute watching her with two furry body cards. One of the cats, Kilala, was a stray that had come to her. trick or treating on Halloween in 2010 and got the treat of a new home.

She was a beautiful cat. Her eyes were a deep, dark green. Her soft, luxurious fur was mostly white, with patches of tiger stripes, but her face, her face was striking. Her mother was long and boxy, like a fox. Her ears were similar to a fox as well, long and slender with black tufts playfully sticking up at the taste. tapered ends. Not only was she unique in looks, but her size was certainly noticeable feature. 34 inches from the tip of her nose to the tip of her tail, 19 inches on the vertical measure. Add the extra long fur, and she was a sight to behold. After a check-up at the vet, we introduced her to our home, and then to Avalon.

Key walked up to her, sat down directly to Avalon's right, and stayed there, most of her. stayed there motionless, like an Egyptian cat statue. That was her permanent post from that moment on. May 2011. My uncle had given Avalon a beautiful antique mirror, the type you would find on an old vanity table. I attached it to the wall in her bedroom so that she can make faces and admire herself as only a 16-month-old could. On cleaning day, I would hurriedly go into the room, do my chores and get the hell out of there. That day, as I cleaned up the room, I dropped a toy that rolled under the crib.

I had to lay down flat to reach it. As I went to pick myself up off the floor, I happened to glance in the mirror. I don't know how long I laid there on my stomach, mouth agape, completely shocked at what I saw. The reflection of the dark corner in the mirror shimmered like the surface of a lake, small ripples of shadow softly floating to the edges, tendrils of darkness floating outwards like the tentacles of an octopus floating in the ocean.

If it hadn't been such a source of fear, the image would have been one of serenity and calm. I pull myself up into a sitting position, never taking my eyes off the mirror. I couldn't, and still can't, fathom what I would. was looking at. My entire life has been full of experiences, yet I couldn't comprehend what I'd witnessed in that mirror. After that, my fear of the dark corner was so immense that Avalon and I both started sleeping in the living room. Me on the couch, Avey in her playpen. I couldn't go in the bedroom after dark, and barely during the day. July 2011. Avalon and I had been terrible. sick for a week. It started with her vomiting uncontrollably, and then the sickness spread to me.

It had gotten to the point where, despite being ill myself, I slept on the floor right next to Avalon's bed. I was terrified that she would choke on her own vomiting at sleep. I'd just pull my own head out of the hospital tub when I looked into the dark corner. The only light was coming from Avalon's small nightlight. As usual, the light stopped abruptly at the edge of the mass. But tonight, it was a bit different, more ominous and dreadful. I sat and stared at the corner until poor Avalon started puking in her sleep. Being 16 months old, she didn't have the awareness to wake herself up. I got up and brought the bucket over to her. When she was done, I emptied it, got a cold washcloth, water and fresh PJs from the dryer.

I walked grogly into the bedroom and dropped everything. Avalon was out of her crib, standing in front of her massive dresser with her back to me. She stood, silent, motionless, just at the edge of the light. Just where the darkness started to creep and stared. I stared into the corner. I slowly walked to her. In the state of sickness we were both in, I knew I didn't have the strength for any bullshit that night.

I picked her up. She was cold and sweaty, just as a child as sick as she was should feel. It was a relief for the moment. I washed her up, changed her clothes and bed. She was silent. I tried to give her some water. Not a sound. Even though it was late and she was sick, Avalon was never silent.

The border of the darkness in the corner moved out a few more inches as I sat on the floor with her in my arms and rocked her until morning. The day after Avalon and I made it over the sickness hum. She went to her grandparents' house for the day. Being so sick for a week, things were extra messy, so I decided to clean the house. It was time to pull the dresser out to check for glass and to size up the dark shadow in the corner. I was finally getting tired of this goddamn thing, and it was time for it to go. As I yanked on the edge of the large heavy dresser, I heard a sound come straight from the piece of furniture, like a rotting piece of wood being yanked off an old nail, sort of half screech, half grown,

But the dresser held fast. I stepped back to assess the situation. I stared hard at the corner, letting it know that I wasn't going to be deterred. I straightened my back, braced my feet and proceeded to move that damn dresser. The noise started low and gained volume as I pulled the dresser away from the alcove. It crescendoed into almost a scream of unimaginable horror as I found it found it. I finally got the large piece of furniture away from the wall and into the middle of the room, and then, deafening silence.

The corner, it seemed, sat, contemplative. I felt silly, staring down at a shadow that really hadn't done anything except in still fear, sickness and disbelief into my soul. For a moment, it just looked like a bright, sunny room with no ominous overtones. I stood there, wondering if I'd really imagined it all. As I was lost in thought, a twinkle of light caught my eye. It was another piece of glass. It was stuck halfway under the trimboard. It was different from the previous pieces found. It was larger, had sharper edges, looked like a piece of volcanic glass. I turned the piece of piece over in my fingers. As I turned to leave the room to add the piece to the collection,

a pain shot up the back of my leg. Another black piece had found its way under the ball of my foot. I pulled it out, added it to the first piece and began the short walk to the kitchen. Once again, pain. Another piece of black shiny glass. It seemed that every step I took, another piece of glass appeared just beneath my foot. I stood there scanning the floor for more pieces, yet the beige carpet was bare. Having been vacuumed each morning, there was little dust, dirt or any other debris inhabiting the fibres.

I slowly took another step, trying to see if anything would miraculously appear under my foot. As soon as my entire foot was placed on the floor, more paint. a piece of glass appeared only after I had completed each step. In very ungraceful like manner, I made my way the eight feet left to the door into the kitchen and grabbed the vacuum again.

After doing the daily ritual of vacuuming the entire house, I once again entered the room. I stood in front of the corner, squaring off with it. I spoke to it out loud, as if it had been something living. Surely it would hear me. Whatever the fuck you are, you need to leave me and my family alone.

You are not welcome here. I don't want you messing with Avalon Dave or myself. If you make us sick again or hurt us in any way, I will burn down heaven and hell in order to make you suffer. At this point, it wasn't an empty threat. Once crossed, I don't tell you. take kindly to letting things go. Hurt anyone I care about.

Well, it may take years or decades, but I will have my revenge. I moved the dresser to another point in the room. I wanted the corner opened in order to keep a closer eye on it. The noise I made when I moved the... It made me feel as though the shadow felt safer hiding behind something. I vacuumed again and went to the library

to do some research. I spent hours trying to find anything about the entity in the corner. I couldn't find anything about dark spots and or glass. I researched the history of the house and of limestone, trying to find the lady in white.

Nothing. Nothing. I went home, defeated. I walked into the house, around the corner, into the kitchen, and stopped at a house. Avalon's bedroom door. I looked at the corner.

I won't find a way to get rid of you, destroy you, get my house back, you son of a bitch. I continued upstairs and sat on the top step, something I did when I needed to think or get a moment of peace. As I sat in thought, I felt a cold wind come from the opposite side of the room. The hair on the back of my neck and arms stood up. The pages of a magazine sitting on the floor near the bed fluttered.

I looked around and saw nothing. The cats, who had been napping on the bed, shot up and ran downstairs. Kila nuzzled my arm and climbed into my lap. I could still feel the cold swirl around us. She sat rigid on my legs in her usual Egyptian cat stunts, ears scanning independently, like little furry radars. She turned her head to look at the windows on the either side of the room. She scanned the area until both eyes and ears locked onto something.

Her eyes followed it across the room, arched behind me, and then stopped. At that moment the air was so cold I could see my breath. Something ran fingers through my ponytail and tugged at the moment. back of my shirt. But I wasn't scared. Key wasn't freaking out, just observing. I sat staring dead ahead, pun intended. I tried to see out of the corner of my eye to catch something in the periphery of my sight. I looked to my left as much as possible, only to catch the lace and ruffles of a familiar dress. It was the lady in the white dress from the kitchen. Not daring to move, I looked up to catch a glimpse of her entire form.

I could see as far up as her waist. That was all there was of her for me to see. She stepped down onto the staircase, and by her second step, she was gone. Key's eyes followed her the rest of the way down the stairs and into the kitchen, right up to the spot where I'd first encountered her. She then turned back to me and did her usual head bump and began to purr. We sat on the stairs, her sprawled in my lap, me rubbing her ears and tummy. September 2011, I tried to figure out what I was missing.

Was the corner and the lady in the white dress connected? Did something happen to her in that room? Was she murdered and left in the corner? The only thing I could think that may help was to smudge the house. with sage. He couldn't hurt, could it? It was better than doing nothing at all. The only problem, living in Northern Maine doesn't allow for many specialty stops. That weekend I made the four-hour journey to a small shop in Augusta after speaking with a very helpful gentleman that owned it. Merkabasol was the usual little hippie, metaphysical Tibetan supply shop that had shelves of

crystals, tarot cards, Tibetan prayer flags, and hemp clothes and the like. After almost an hour of explaining my plight, receiving suggestions and instructions, I left with a large feather and a smudge stick. For those that don't know what that is, it's a cigar-shaped bundle consisting of white sage, sometimes lavender, and other cleansing plants.

The feather is to direct the smoke as needed. The next day I brought Avalon back to my parents' house, waited for Dave to go to work and began the sweep. I started upstairs. As instructed, I smudged the windows and windowsills, the door frames, and, for good measure, the entire damn room. I went room to room until the entire house was done. A smoky haze filled the air and the smell of sage was overpowering. I got to Avalon's bedroom.

I did the windows and the door leading out to the mudroom. The closet was next, and then the damn corner. Gee, that damn corner. I stood there, sticking one hand, feather in the other, squaring off like a showdown in an old western. I blew on the stick to get as much smoke as possible, billowing out of it and went to work. I started in the direct middle of the dark spot,

concentrating as much smoke as possible into it. The spot lightened, but the edges stayed dark, and I pulled back, and the spot became dark again. I tried it again, pulling as much smoke as possible from the bundle and directing it towards the centre of the shadow. Only this time I gave it everything I had. I kept the barrage of smoke going as long as I could. The shadow beginning to fade from the centre out to the edges.

an hour later the shadow was gone completely the entire room bright and sunny i thought maybe this had done the trick but i still had the feeling of dread and fear i finished smoking out the entire house i opened all the windows so that the bad spirits out as instructed nothing felt different no shadows throwing themselves out to get away from the cleansing smoke no white lady appears then disappearing with a thankful look of calmness to let me know she was able to leave this world. Nothing. Nothing but my neighbour walking at the driveway with a small bundle of fur in her arms. Before I'd begun the smudging, I put our cats outside.

I saw them on the lawn giving me dirty looks through the upstairs windows. I'd woken them from a deep slumber, and they were not ready for their usual evening prowling. Smokey had continued his nap under some pine trees. Key wasn't far away, sitting in her guard cat position. Doom Kitty, from the show Ruby Gloom, went off to his usual visit for treats from the elderly couple nearby. After the smudging process, I saw them again as I opened windows. They'd never moved from their selected spots.

From the time it took for me to walk down my very tiny staircase, across the kitchen and out the front door my dear sweet brave little keelah had died my elderly neighbor found her laying by the tree she was sitting at moments before smoky and doom meowing loudly next to her she knew the cats very well just seeing key in any position but her egyptian cat guard pose was enough to raise concern she'd picked her up and brought it to me as i walked out the door For a moment I thought, Oh no, Key got hit by a car.

But when the neighbour explained to me what happened, all I could think of was, This is war. The cause of death was acute respiratory failure and myocardial infection. She suffocated and had a heart attack at the same time. The vet just couldn't understand why a year-old cat that she deemed healthy less than three weeks prior

could just die suddenly. A heart attack. Yes, it is possible in animals, and yes, it could happen just like that. However, it was usually brought about by excessive adrenaline. Both the neighbour and I had seen Key sitting under a tree just moments before her death, not terrified in fear or running crazily around the yard, just sitting there, doing what she did best. And what about the suffocation? The vet shook her head, looked over her notes, re-read the lab results. How could an animal suffocate with no obstructions in her breathing passages?

No medical issues to speak of? Nothing. Nothing. There was so much nothing going on. I felt like I was in the never-ending stories. Apologies for that, I'm the type to make bad jokes at funerals. I guess it's a coping mechanism. January 2012. It was back to the library for more research. I looked up shamanic recipes for cleansing the soul,

spirit animals, spirit stone, spirit flowers, crystals for cleaning chakras, binaural beats, meditation music, Gregorian chants, African drum beats, candle colours, prayers in every language and religion. I found every possible bit of information regarding cleansing that was available. I filled a notebook with what I thought I may need, made my list of weapons and headed back

to Augusta. I came home with an arsenal, spent about a week familiarizing myself to each and every rock, plant, prayer, chant and color that I'd purchased. When I felt I was ready, I made sure that Dave and Avalon will be out of the house for at least the weekend. This was something I needed to do alone. Dave was a disbeliever, and I didn't want anything else bad to happen to Avalon. Seeing her sick was enough for me.

The two remaining cats went to a friend's house. I didn't know if having everyone as far away as possible would protect them, but I had to try. Finding myself alone in the house again, I set about constructing an altar of sorts in the corner. White candles lined the walls, incense in the smudge stick sat in. in the middle, various crystal stones were strewn about, a bowl of holy water to my right, anathomy to my left. I laid out the prayers and incantations in front of me and went to work. As I sat down, I felt silly again. I looked about the items and wondered if I'd really just let my imagination get the best of me. I sat, eyes closed, and thought about all the previous experience I'd

had throughout my entire life. After a few minutes, my resolve strengthened, and I knew the instinctual feelings swirling about my innards were correct, and that this had to be done. I poured a circle of salt around the altar. This was to create a circle of protection. I sprinkled holy water over everything, lit the white candles, incense and smudged stick, positioned the the crystals in a semicircle, sat cross-legged and began the first protection prayer. As I spoke the words out loud, I heard a faint screeching sound, like cart-eyers coming from down the street. It grew louder as I spoke more of the prayer.

Like when I tore the dresser from the wall, it turned into a howling roar. I continued the praying as a cold breeze picked and swirled around me. the howling became echoish like it was coming from an old-time radio I kept my eyes closed and the words going I was terrified inside but I couldn't let it surface

I can laugh a bit about it now but it was almost like the arc opening scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark I kept my posture rigid head up back straight legs crossed hands on my knees I was coming to the

the end of the prayer and I knew I would have to open my eyes to read the next set of notes. In hindsight, I probably should have memorized everything. But when your house kills your cat, the small details are easily overlooked. I finished the prayer and the howling started to die down and the breeze warmed. I knew I couldn't stop or else something worse might happen. Too terrified to open my eyes, I saw. felt around for the vial of holy water. Sprinkled everything around me again and began the only prayer I knew somewhat by heart.

The Lord's Prayer. I spoke loudly and angrily, corraling all the negative energy in events that had happened so far. I used the negativity to my advantage. As I spoke, my tone was as threatening as possible. I used the prayer as bullets. I finished the prayer, open the vial again and splash the entire. a thing at the wall. Then I began the prayer again. Speaking as though I was in a fight and throwing

insults, I kept the thoughts of the past circulating in my head, using them as fuel to get myself worked into a murderous frenzy. I wanted to make the fear dissipate altogether. I wanted whatever it was in that corner to fear me as I had feared it. I was screaming by now, just repeating the Lord's prayer over and over. I couldn't hear the howling over my own voice. The anger inside numbed me to the cold breeze. I just kept going, raising to my feet, clenching my fists, screaming at the top of my lungs. The entire time, my eyes were closed.

Images of the dark corner shone brightly behind my eyelids. The shadow kept contorting, like looking into a sadistic kaleidoscope. I don't know how much time had passed before I finally felt a. my knees exhausted. I slowly opened my eyes to see the shadow in the corner. It was about the size of a desert plate, edges pulsating in a starburst. This made me as angry as ever before. Hatred and revenge swelled up in me. I was literally so mad I didn't know what to do. I looked around at my arsenal. The holy water was depleted. Candles burned down. Incents long. gone, knowing I didn't have much time before the shadow began regaining its own strength and exacting

revengers before. I ran upstairs, grabbed a small Bible I'd gotten when in basic training, ran back to the corner and placed the Bible on the wall. A small moan shook the room. Leaning the book against the wall, I ran back to the kitchen, grabbed a roll of duct tape, went back into the bedroom and taped the Bible right over the center of the shadow. When you short on time. You've got to do what you got to do. I ran out to my truck, tore out of the driveway, spitting rocks and squealing tires. I got to the grocery store, bought as many one-gallon waters as I could carry, threw them into the truck and tore off to the church. The priest met me with concern. I must have looked like a crazy person, arms full of gallon jugs, eyes wide, face

read, carrying on about how I needed him to bless me and the water. Since I'd spoken to him before about my predicament, I was able to quickly give him the short explanation. He'd refused to come bless the house before, thinking me overly dramatic. It was probably for the best anyway. God knows what revenge would have been exacted on my family for that. Telling him that I would return to explain every little detail as soon as I could, I begged for him to fulfill my request of blessings. He said his little prayers, motioned with his hands, and was done with this crazy woman in his church. I pulled into the yard sideways, snow, rocks and dirt flying, and ran into the house.

I hadn't even bothered to close the doors when I left. I stopped inside the front door. It was as though time had slowed down. The house creaked. and groaned. I stood and listened for a minute. It almost felt like I was an old ship at sea. The floor seemed to rise and fall, as though the waves were slowly rocking the house back and forth. I finally lost my shit, I thought out loud. I'm on the crazy boats a hell. I watched the pictures on the wall for movement. Fortunately, they stayed still. Nothing in the house seemed to be pitching back

and forth, as if it were really on a boat, and yet the floor felt like it was swaying back and forth. I tried to walk into the bedroom. It was like walking along the floor in a fun house, on top of boards that shifted back and forth, or up and down, trying to throw kids off balance. The floor didn't move. It was my perception of the floor that was throwing me off. I held tight to the water jugs and made my way into the bedroom. The Bible was still taped to the wall, edges of shadow poking around it. I tore it off the wall, opened a jug of water and began pouring the entire thing down the corner and along the walls. The ship stopped swaying.

I picked up the second jug in one hand, opened the Bible with the other. Not knowing where to start, I turned to the first page of Genesis and began to read. At this moment I had no plan. I was going on some sort of primal instinct. The Lord's Prayer and Holy Water seemed to work the best, so I stuck with this form of battle. As I read about what God did on the seventh day, I poured water in the corner and along the walls.

The ship tilted sharply to Starboard, and I almost lost my balance. When I kept reading, the howling and chilly breeze started again, so I closed my eyes and began letting myself get angry again. I kept reading, kept getting angrier and angrier. This thing had made my daughter sick, killed my cat, and made me live in fear. It had pushed me too far, and now it was my turn.

I felt the hatred, anger and revenge spring up from my soul once again. I worked myself into a frenzy of screaming words. from the Bible and pouring water into my hand to whip it at the walls. The ship pitched starboard and then to port. I struggled to keep my balance. I think the only thing that kept me upright was knowing that it was a matter of perception. I knew the shadow was messing with me. The house stayed still.

The crazy boat was sailing. I kept reading. Kept splashing, but I was getting weak. now it was a matter of who would outlast the other I threw the book on the floor poured water into both hands and started painting the corner with it some sick twisted form of finger painting the walls were freezing

like sticking my hands onto a metal bar in the freezer when my hands hit the wall a wail of anger thundered through the house still screaming I spoke of God getting rid of the beast and protecting my family. I felt like an evangelist going under the power. I repeated this over and over,

again losing track of time. Just when I thought I couldn't do any more, I gained a second wind and kept going. The shadow would spread out across the walls, shrink into nothing, spread out again, shrink again. This time I was shouting profanities, telling it to get out of my house, praying. The walls, floor, and myself were all soaked with holy water. I knew I couldn't stop

until this thing was gone for good. My family and I were in big trouble if I didn't. I had one last idea. I ran to my jewelry box and grabbed an old rosary and cross. They belonged to my grandmother and had been blessed so many times and Jesus himself knew the objects well. Back in In the bedroom, I hung the crass-up on a little nail in the same spot I'd taped the Bible. Now that I think about it, why was that little nail in the exact spot I needed it to be? Had it been there all along? I really don't remember. I wrapped the rosary around my wrist, grabbed another jug of water, and the now soaking pages of the Bible, and started again.

I never let the anger waver, or the fear surface. I just let myself be mad, taking every frustration out on that damn shadow. The ship still listed back and forth. The house creaked and groaned. I stumbled a few times, but never fell. I kept going like a marathon runner. In one last stand, the shadow swallowed the corner and adjacent walls in mind-altering blackness. The howling near the glass-breaking pitch.

and the house felt like it was going to cave in on me. Still screaming, I was down on my knees, hands planted on the floor. Yes, I was still on the crazy boat. Everything swayed and swirled around me. I felt myself faltering. And then, silence. Once again, nothing. I couldn't do anything more.

So I laid down and either passed out or just. I just fell asleep. I awoke. I didn't know if hours, days, or just seconds had passed by. Everything was still, quiet. I could hear birds, cars, kids playing outside. I sat up. The room was a mess.

Empty water jugs all over. Candles, gemstones, notebook pages were displayed all over the floor. The Bible was on the floor next to me. next to me. The rosary is still around my wrist and the cross was up on the wall. I stared at it for a moment. Had I gotten rid of the shadow? The prior events came into mind and I stood up quickly, trying to figure out a new game plan. My thoughts raced as to what I should do next. I grabbed the Bible and a half full jug of holy water. As I went to start my siege once again, I noticed a flutter of white.

Out of the corner of my eye, just outside the door of the bedroom, was the bottom corner of a white lace dress. I turned to look at it straight on, but it disappeared. I turned back to throw water into the corner, but paused. The corner was light.

The whole room had a sunny glow to it. There was no feeling of dread, fear or hatred. I even felt happy. Not sure what to do, I cleaned out the bedroom, left the cross and rosary hanging on the wall and went to get my family. March 2012. You moved out of the little house. Business transfer. Funny thing is, and never put in for one. Was something trying to get rid of me. My pay was doubled and I couldn't say no to the perks. I almost hated leaving the house. I still own it and people have rented it without incident. The cross and rosary are still hanging in the corner.

I've told my renters that they were free to remove it, but I'm told that it makes them feel secure. Perhaps it all really wasn't my imagination. 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 from, 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.