Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S6 Ep325: Episode 325: Ultimate Nightmare Horror

Episode Date: March 21, 2026

Tonight’s first epic tale of the horrific is ‘Revolving’, a truly horrific story by Moonlit Shadow, kindly shared with me via the Creepypasta wiki and read here under the conditions of the CC-BY-SA license:https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/Revolvinghttps://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/User:MoonlitShadowToday’s second classic in the making is ‘The Sound Eaters’ by ExRwood, kindly shared with me via the Creepypasta Wiki and read here under the conditions of the CC-BY-SA license.https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/User:ExRwoodhttps://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/The_Sound_EatersTonight’s final, deliciously evil short story is 'Those who Came Before' by the wonderfully talented Dremantis, kindly shared with me via my subreddit for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all:https://www.reddit.com/user/Dremantis/

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please contact Connix Ontario at 1866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. Welcome to Dr. Creepen's Dungeon. Weird things often tap into the unknown, triggering primal instincts and stirring up a sense of unease. When faced with something unfamiliar or inexplicable, our minds can't help but conjure up all sorts of possibilities, many of them tinged with fear. It's the fear of the unknown, the fear of losing control and the fear of confronting something beyond our understanding. Also, weirdness often disrupts our sense of normalcy and predictory. ability, challenging our perception of reality and leaving us vulnerable to the unexpected.

In a world where we seek comfort in familiarity and order, encountering something weird can shake us to our core, reminding us of the vast mysteries that lie just beyond our grasp, as we'll see in tonight's three tales of terror. Now, as ever before we begin, a word of caution. Night stories may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery. That sounds like your kind of thing. and let's begin

How many nightmares Leave you Lying awake in a cold sweat after them This story is based on just such a nightmare that the author had Revolving By moonlit shadow I'm not sure how long I've been standing here But I'm starting to get tired again

I need to see it one last time though Before I drift off So I continue to keep my eye out I glance around once more at my eyes at I glanced around once more at my neighbours standing next to me. Most of them were quiet and stared blankly into space, while others attempted to catch some sleep. And trust me, when you're exhausted like I am, sleeping while standing up is much more comfortable than you think. You can always tell when someone's new to the group.

They constantly fidget and look frantically about, eyes wide with fear. Then they desperately try to move their legs and bend over to free themselves from the metal clamps that held their feet in place, forcing them to stand. Of course, they'd eventually figure out how futile their attempts of escape were and would fall silent like the rest of us. I can only imagine I must have acted just like them when I first came here. But like I said, I don't remember how long I've been standing now. It's almost time again, so I anxiously look towards the left. It always enters my line of sight from that direction, then exits to the right. There. There it is. It's a small stain on the tile floor. It only enters my line of sight briefly before

vanishing once again into the darkness. Seeing it is the only thing I have to look forward to now. It's the only thing that keeps me sane. But most importantly, it lets me know that I'm still moving. All right, I guess I didn't mention that part. Those of you are again. good listeners must have already figured out that stains on tile can't move on their own, and have likely concluded that I must be the one moving somehow. Well, you're right. I'm actually standing on a conveyor belt-like platform, secured to it by these metal clamps around my feet.

Although I can't see more than a few feet in front of me, I know that the belt I'm on isn't a straight one. It's in the shape of a huge ring and cycles in an endless loop. I know this because of that stain I told you about. It passes by about once an hour. Yes, I was so bored that I mentally calculated that. It's not like there are multiple stains on the floor or anything else because I've memorized every little curb of the stain

and the design of it always the same each time I encounter it. I should give you an estimate of how long I've been here. But like I said, I don't even know how long it's been. so here I am standing shoulder to shoulder with a bunch of people I've never met or talked to those whose voices had once filled the place fell silent long ago or have likely forgotten now how to speak altogether the space room the area or wherever we are

is pitch black save for the dim lights that dot the sides of the conveyor belt each one illuminates only about three feet in diameter but beyond that darkness. No matter how hard I squint, I can't make out any detail of anything that may be in front of me

at the centre of this circle. There could be someone standing right in front of me, just outside the light, and I wouldn't know it. Behind me isn't much better. Not only is it a pain to try and turn around when my feet are secured, pointing straight in front of me, and I have to shove aside

the people standing next to me in order to rotate my body, but, well, It just isn't worth it. The view I get from behind is exactly what I see in front. The only difference is that my sides cramp up from looking behind myself for too long, and so I usually just face forward and wait for the stain to come around again. There's one other defining feature about this place. On very rare occasions, a second conveyor belt can be seen,

and it always arouses excitement amongst the people standing around me. This belt isn't circular like the one I should. share with everyone else. It's straight. The belt emerges from the dark depths of the circle and connects itself to the outside ring. When it appears, it is said that one person is selected from the ring to ride down the long platform towards the centre of the circle. Once they vanish into the sea of darkness, they're never seen again. Then the mysterious conveyor belt retracts back into the dark void from which it came. I saw this belt appear only once since I've been. I've been. I saw this belt appear only once since I've been here. It came for a man about twenty people down to my left.

Those around him shouted and tugged violently at his clothes as he was removed from his routine course and began to follow the straight and narrow path before him. By the time I'd moved up to the spot where the man had been taken, he'd already long since vanished into the darkness. But I could just barely make out the remainder of the retreating convey-about before it disappeared from sight completely. I'm still not sure of what to make of that ghostly thing. I don't know whether I should fear it or beg for it to take me away from this place.

But there is one thing I know for sure. There's something in front of me, awaiting me at the centre of this circle. I suddenly awoke to a hand grabbing my shoulder. My eyelids bolted open and I quickly whipped my head towards whoever was touching me. I didn't scream, but my eyes must have been wide

fear because a voice said, Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Then the hand pulled away and its owner draped it back at his side. I didn't respond. I could only look in awe at this stranger who seemed to have materialized next to me. I definitely don't remember him standing next to me before I dozed off. Well, it had been someone else. So, well, how did he get there?

The only logical conclusion I could reach was that he, He was a newbie and must have joined the circle while I was sleeping. But he didn't act like all the others who were new to the group. He wasn't scanning the area in fear or desperately trying to remove the metal clamps from his feet. Even the tone he spoke to me in seems calm and sincerely apologetic for waking me. I guess he could have been here long enough for him to accept this strange situation. But if that's the case, how long have I been sleeping? I didn't even realise that I was still staring at the man.

until he spoke once again. Look, I'm sorry I woke you up, but you're starting to creep me out now. I blinked a couple of times and turned away and looked down in embarrassment, still haunted by the fact that someone managed to sneak up right next to me without my knowing. It wasn't anything major,

but it was still an unsettling thought. Hey, um, you okay? said the man. I'm really sorry for scaring you, but I thought maybe you could tell me what's going on here. I shook my head silently, not because I didn't want to tell him, but because I, myself, didn't even know why I was here or what was going on. I don't even know how long I've been here.

Oh, well, I guess you can't tell me either then. He sounded disappointed. So, what's your name? The question shocked me more than it should have, but in all the time that I'd been standing here, no one at once asked me for my name. Heck, I don't even remember talking to anyone around me if I ever did, because, like I said,

I don't know how long I've been standing here. My voice was raspy since speech, had eluded me for so long, but I managed to answer him. I... I don't... No. You pause for a bit.

Oh, come on. You can't. I can seriously not know your own name. But it was true. I don't have any memories prior to being here, not even of the day I arrived, and that includes my own name as I never remembered ever speaking it.

Like I said, I don't know how long I've been standing here. Ah, see then, the man said with concern in his voice. Well, you okay at least? I nodded. Yeah, I'm okay. "'Well, then it's, uh, mightn't nice to meet you, okay,' he said with sudden enthusiasm. I got my head to the side and gave him a puzzled look. "'What?' he said.

"'You said you were okay, so that must be your name.' He smiled at his joke, but I groaned. "'What was this guy's problem? No one ever acted like this.' "'Is that supposed to be funny?' I asked. "'He paused for a bit. "'Why, do I say it wrong?' "'I was ready to punch this guy's face in.

"'He must have picked up on that too "'because he quickly raised his hands in defence. "'All right, all right, I'm sorry.' "'And he went silent after that. "'I turned away from him and just stared blankly into the darkness, "'waiting for that stain on the floor to come around again. "'After a long while, I began to feel uneasy. "'After speaking for the first time in what felt like an eternity,

the empty silence felt cold and hostile. The last time I'd ever heard human voices was when the man was taken away on the long conveyor belt. Or maybe that's what compelled me. Or maybe deep down I just wanted someone to talk to. But I turned to face my new acquaintance once again. So, um, what's your name? I asked him. Oh, Jean, he replied.

You know, like the pants you're wearing. I look down at my attire. Right, that's what they were called. Well, um, it's nice to meet you, Jean. I said. He smiled. I'm still not sure what I can call you, though. I thought for a moment.

I really don't care, as long as it's not something stupid like, O.K. He chuckled a bit. Okay. How about just K then? That could be a real name. I smiled back at him. "'ah, okay. Ah, that's fine.' "'Gene and I became good friends after that.

"'I found out that he, much like me, "'didn't know how he got here "'or how much time had passed before he started to talk to me. "'He also couldn't recollect any significant memories "'about his life prior to being here. "'Even though I didn't know much about him, "'I was sincerely thankful for his presence "'and the fact that I now had someone to talk to.

"'Even if our conversations were short and spread out, they provided a warm relief in the foreboding silence as we moved along our endless path through the darkness. After a while I decided to show him the stain on the ground. All that time watching and waiting for it to come around again kept me from completely losing my mind all the time I'd been standing there. I figured that if I showed it to Jean, and it would do the same for him. I wasn't exactly ready to have my only friend go insane from sheer emptiness of this place like so many others had. When I mentioned the stain to him, his eyes immediately perked up with interest,

and he made some witty remark along the lines of how it was about time he got to see some new scenery. When it was just about time before we passed by the stain again, I bent down so I could point it out more easily. I try not to bend down normally if I can avoid it. The clamps around my feet end up cutting into my ankles, and it's pretty painful, to say the least. Jean bent down beside me to get a better view, as well. From the dim lights on the side of the conveyor belt illuminating his face,

I could see that he was about my age, maybe a couple of years younger. He had unnaturally red hair and piercing green eyes, although they were starting to fill with tears at the moment. No doubt from the pain the braces on his feet must be causing him. Finally, the stain on the floor came around again, and I hastily pointed it out. There, do you see it? I see it. I am. I. You see it? I yelled frantically. But before I could get a reply, the stain had vanished from sight once more. Oh, what?

That was it? Gene whined. Well, it's better than nothing, I replied, finally standing back up, with a newfound pain in my ankles. So, well, when would it come back again? He asked. About an hour, give or take.

Gene groans. There are any more secrets I should know? about this place then? I thought for a moment. Well, I guess there is something else worth mentioning. I told him then about the strange conveyor belt, a straight one that appears out of nowhere and steals away a lone person from the ring before retreating back into the center of the circle. Jean didn't have anything to say. He just listened intently while I spoke. He didn't even question me for making up such a ridiculous story. and after I'd finished

we just stood in silence the stand on the ground passed by five times before he spoke again So what do you think lies in the centre of the ring he asked Oh slow to answer I honestly

Never gave him much thought We were both silent for a long while He uh What if it's freedom He said confidence I turned to look at him. Jean was staring straight ahead towards the centre of the circle with a stern expression on his face.

And from that point on, we'd spend our time counting how many times we passed a stain on the floor and imagining what freedom would be like. I'd mostly just fantasise about how nice it would feel to get these damn clamps off my feet and walk around. But Jean had much grander thoughts. He'd talk about how he'd go and figure out who he was, how he would reclaim the life that had been stolen from him.

But most of all, he wanted to know what the purpose of this place was and why we were here. Oh, and you should go first, I said. When the conveyor belt appears again, I hope it picks you. Well, he replied almost immediately. What? No, you've been here longer than I have, way longer. So if anyone deserves freedom, it's you, Kay. You see, um, that's why I can't go.

I said. I don't even remember my real name like you do. You at least have a chance of finding out who you are. Jean didn't have anything to say at that. Well, it's not like we have a choice in who gets picked, he said. We'll just have to wait and see. And we did see. Although it was inevitable, nothing could have prepared me for the day when it arrived.

Between me and Jean, we counted the stain 51 times before the day. the straight conveyor belt was once again seen emerging from the darkness. But it didn't come for me. It took me a few seconds before I realized that Jean was no longer next to me, but was moving away into the Sea of Black, guided by the mysterious retreating conveyor belt. And then he was gone, and all was silent. And that's when I snapped.

The sudden realization that I was once again alone in the foreboding silence caused me to go into a wild panic. I was so scared. I desperately shouted at the top of my lungs, crying and begging for Jean to come back. I didn't want to be left alone again. I didn't want to lose myself to the madness of the darkness like the numerous others standing with me. I twisted my ankles and desperately pulled at the metal clamps, earning me a deep gash around my leg. Feeling the warm blood dripped down at my feet just caused me to panic even more. I cried and screamed until my throat became too sore to continue. I was blinding myself with tears at this point,

but I couldn't do anything. I could only pray in silence for that conveyor belt to return and take me away to freedom. If not, I would inevitably forget about it, along with all other aspects of my existence. All I can do is stand here and cry as I revolve in this sea of black. I remember falling asleep, but I was jerked awake by a sudden change in my momentum.

which caused me to vomit. Something was wrong. I looked around frantically and frightened to see a line of light slowly vanishing into the distance. I was riding the straight conveyor belt. My head suddenly erupted with all kinds of conflicting thoughts. Fear, excitement, curiosity. A glance behind me once more to see the remainder of the outside ring disappear from sight as I travelled deeper and deeper into the dark void.

After a long while I could see a light at the end of the conveyor belt. It came down from the dark sky like a tiny spotlight, illuminating my destination. As I got closer, I could make out the silhouettes of about 30 people, all standing in a small circle and revolving around the centre at a slow pace, guided by a new circular conveyor belt. But the horrifying part was that they were screaming, screaming at the top of their lungs and crying out like madmen.

I took up my ears to save myself from going deaf as I approached the ring of people. After I took my place in the new circle, I frantically scanned the faces of those around me. Many were screaming and crying, or attempting to free themselves from the metal clamps on their feet, cutting themselves in the process. And then I saw him. Gene, who was standing about ten people down from my left. or I was so excited that I caught out to him and waved my arms to get his attention. But he didn't respond.

Or maybe he couldn't hear me over the deafening screams of the crowd. That's when I noticed that his green eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and his face was covered in multiple fluids as if he'd been crying uncontrollably. He wasn't screaming like the others. He just stood there staring straight ahead with a horrified expression on his face. Puzzled. I followed his gaze to the centre of the circle. There in the middle of the spotlight was a golden platform,

just barely wide enough for one person to stand on top. If I wanted to, I could reach over with all my effort and touch the edge of it. But I didn't want to, for there was no floor between the ring and the golden centre. I peered over the edge in hopes of seeing the bottom of the pit before me, but was met with endless darkness. That's when I noticed screaming. around me was getting louder, as if something was refueling the people's anxiety. I looked up to see Jean, floating towards the golden platform.

Then he came to rest on its centre, still staring into space with that horrified expression on his face. "'Jean, Jean, what's going on?' I shouted. He didn't respond. He probably couldn't hear me over the screaming. He began shouting louder. "'Jean, please answer me, man. What's going on? What's happening?' I caught out his name again and again, trying to provoke any sort of response to see if he was okay.

"'Shut up!' Jean viciously shouted. He turned and stared at me, following my movements, with a look so murderous that, had the clamps on his feet not been there to restrain him, I'm sure he would have leapt across the canyon and strangled me to death. I was quiet after that. For the longest time, time we just stared at each other. Jean's bloodshot eyes pierced mine like emerald daggers. The way the light fell on him created dark shadows around his eyes. That plus his fiery red hair gave him a malevolent and demonic appearance. Jean then started giggling to himself softly. I couldn't hear it too well at first over the screaming, but it steadily grew louder and louder

until he was laughing psychotically, all the while not breaking eye contact with me. Don't you see, Kay? This is what we've been waiting for all this time. This is our freedom. And soon you will join me. I didn't know what to make of this. What did he mean by this being freedom?

But I would never get the chance to ask him. Before I could speak, an impossibly long vertical saw blade rose from the dark depths of the pit. Its numerous sharp teeth glinted in the spotlight as it moved over and touched Jean's shoulder. And then it began soaring, his blade slowly slicing through Jean's flesh. The people screaming reached its climax, and I could hear the snapping of bones and squishy tearing of meat as the hungry teeth of the sore made its way right to left across Jean's body. separating his front from his back and creating two perfect human silhouettes. All I could do was watch in horror as my friend was being sliced,

or being forced to move along the ringed conveyor belt meant that I got a 360-degree view of the carnage as Jean's metal clamps held his feet in place, keeping him stationary. Throughout the process, Jean never screamed or struggled. Blard now soaked his clothes as well as his entire body, and numerous tears streamed down his face from the pain. He looked up at me one last time with a wide smile on his face. Just as the jagged blade sliced through the last portion of his brain, I saw the light leave his eyes.

As the sore exited his body, both halves of my friend fell into the black pit below. And then he was gone, swallowed up by the bottomless moor of the pit. And the sore followed, which he was gone. retreating back into the darkness. I stood there, unblinking at where my friend had been, tears flowing endlessly down my face. No, this couldn't, this couldn't be what we wanted.

How could... Was it all for nothing? The people around me just kept crying and shrieking at the top of their lungs. Oh, they don't stop. Their cries of agony are refueled when a young woman hollers towards the golden center. The saw once again rises from the depths of the pit and begins grinding its new victim with jagged teeth. The woman lets out a blood-curdling scream and twists away from the blade, causing it to split her spine at a most agonizing angle. Blood sprays everywhere as the woman

desperately struggles to escape, to no avail. As soon she falls silent and a mangled body disappears with the saw into the bottomless darkness. And everyone else, just keeps screaming. Each time a new victim is selected, the cries intensify, growing louder and louder, but never showing signs of stopping. My ears are ringing with intensifying pain. I shout and cry, begging for the noise to stop, but it doesn't.

It just gets louder and louder with each passing moment. I'm standing, still standing, revolving around this ring, crying in pain from the unearthly shrieks of those being carved up by the soar's teeth, and the screams from those forced to watch with me. I want to go back. Back to the darkness and the stain on the floor. Back with that boy. What was his name?

I think it started with a jay. No, I remember he was my friend. Couldn't have forgotten. Couldn't have been here that long, right? Please, I need to remember. God damn it. I can't think with all this blasted screaming. Shut up, just shut up.

It doesn't matter how many of them are killed, they just get replaced with more screaming bastards. I can't take it. I just shut up, please, I can't take it anymore. I don't flinch as I float over to the golden platform. I stand perfectly still as the sore begins to split my left shoulder. I don't react as the slow, jagged momentum of the sharp teeth slice through my flesh and snap my bones. As my skull cracks and the sword begins shredding my brain, I look up to see a ring of people revolving around me,

looking up at me with horrified faces drenched in tears and the blood of past victims. I smile. Soon it will all be over. Soon everything will be silent. Soon I'll leave this damn place. Soon I will be free. Beyond the four dimensions that man is aware of, there lies a mysterious fit. It is a realm that is as big in size as the universe itself and as timeless as eternity.

It rests somewhere between the depths of man's worries and the pinnacle of his knowledge and is the nexus between light and gloom, science and superstition. Tonight, we visit Serena, a woman who has spent her whole life in the city of Chicago, pleading for just one day of quiet. Well, as we know, you should be careful. for what you wish for. The Sound Eaters by XR Wood.

Serena perched on the cushioned window seat with a long forgotten cup of coffee clutched in both hands. It was a grey day, one in a long string of grey days that went back weeks, or months, who could remember,

she set the white cup on the spotless sill. Moments later, a ripple rolled across the surface of the coffee. was chased by another and another she ground her teeth the whole apartment building vibrated with the sounds of life door slammed into frames music blasted into ears and boomed through bones children ran held to skilter outside car horns blasted traffic hummed and alt-trains clacked finding a moment of silence in

chicago was rare it occurred only in the darkest hours of the night and the fragile our spell was easily broken by a hacking cough or a screaming baby. Serena tapped her fingers on the sill, adding to the ripples. She dwelled in the chaos of city life for most of her 50 years. She often imagined what it would be like to live alone somewhere so quiet she could hear her heartbeat, her breathing. Down the hall a door slammed. A child yelled.

Serena grabbed her coffee and gulped it. her mouth twisted at the cold bitter assault she sighed set the cup down again and closed her eyes at least the dog had been blessedly quiet today serena lived in apartment one e at the end of the hall near the stairs in an old three-story brick building in one a near the front entrance lived an older man a small brown dog that barked at everything and nothing the dog barked the way a lonely human might talk to themselves just to hear their own voice. Across from the dog was 1B, which was home to a family of five, or 10 or 20. So many people went in and out, it was impossible to know who lived there. To top it off, a puzzling number of people would pass right by 1B and then ring every other doorbell in search of it.

In 1C, next to 1A, lived a woman and her new baby, and a slightly older baby, and another on barely older than that. Serena was pretty sure the babies had worked out a schedule, so one of them was always crying. Across from one C was one D, home to three young men who each had different musical tastes. There wasn't a functioning pair of headphones among them. Above Serena was apartment 2E, which seemed to be occupied by an entire wrestling team played with insomnia. In actuality, two friendly elderly women live there, each looking as if they couldn't weigh more than a hundred pounds. Yet somehow they managed to set Serena's

dining room lights swaying day and night. The doorbell buzzed, jarring Serena from her reverie. She patted to the door and peered through the peep-hole. She didn't recognise the person. This isn't one B, she said. The person mumbled something before heading away to ring on someone else's bell.

Serena took her cup to the sink. The doorbell buzzed. She jumped, dropping the cup. The handle snapped off and bounced into the disposal with a clink. The bell buzzed again. She slammed the cup on the granite counter. Her thin lips pulled tight. She stomped to the door and yelled. This isn't one B. Can't you read? A woman said, Um, hello? I'm looking for one E. Serena frowned and squinted into the peephole. A 20-something woman stood with a child resting on her hip. Serena opened the door, pulled her cardigan closed and crossed her arms.

Oh, um, can I help you? I'm from 1B. Really need a favour. The woman hefted the boy higher on her hip. Her clothes were rumpled, there were dark smudges under her eyes. She rubbed her ear. It looked an angry shade of red. Could you watch Bailey for an hour?

are too. Serena's eyebrows raised. The child whom she assumed was Bailey looked to be about three years old. He was clutching a filthy, grey stuffed rabbit in one hand while sucking the thumb of the other. His shirt and pants were a hodgepodge of stains

of unknown origin. Serena's nose wrinkled. Try one seat. They've got kids. The woman stared at the ground. I know it's sweet. super weird, but I'm kind of desperate. Serena blinked several times.

I can't. I can't watch your kid, she said as she pushed her door closed. Oh, please, one hour. Something's not right. She rubbed her ear again and glanced down the hall. I'm sorry. The woman cut Serena off by setting the kid down and sprinting to the entryway and out of the front door. Wait!

Serena scrambled into the hall after her, but she tripped over Bailey, knocking him flat. Her arms pinwheeled as she teetered. She steadied and turned to the front door. The woman was gone. Bailey screwed up his face and howled with all his might. It reverberated through the wood-paneled hall. Serena winced, covering her ears.

Okay, okay. God, you're allowed. She picked him up and struggled. to hold him at arm's length. He quieted, reaching out to grasp her long black and gray hair with a sticky-looking hand. She grimaced and held him further away. Her small frame tipped forward precariously. She leaned back, groaning. Bailey giggled and shoved his thumb in his mouth. She tottered over to 1B. Setting Bailey down with a grunt, she stabbed the doorbell with her finger. When no one came, she held the button for ten seconds. Let him. the shrill peals saturate the apartment.

Still no answer. Her shoulders slumped. She grabbed Bailey and staggered back to one ear. Your mama's got one hour, then I'm calling the police, she said. Bailey blinked at her and tugged on his earlobe. Serena tried asking him if he was hungry or thirsty, but he only responded with a blank stare. She shook her head and stuck him on the rug in front of the TV.

She dusted off the remote, located a cartoon channel and noted the time. Settling into her favourite reading chair, she said, One hour. Two hours later, the woman hadn't returned. Serena set her jaw, marched over to One Bee and rang the bell. It trilled for half a second and died. Frowning, she pushed it again, but it didn't ring. She ground her teeth and banged on the door.

"'Come get your kid already!' A baby in one sea shrieked in response. She banged on the door twice more for good measure and then stopped, her fist resting on the dark wood. Her eyes narrowed. With all the racket she was making, the scruffy dog in 1A was showing too much restraint. She rang 1A's bell.

No answer. Serena leaned her ear against the cold door and held her breath. There were no sounds of life, not even the hum of a refrigerator. She sighed and returned to her apartment. Bailey was still sitting in front of the TV where she'd left him. Both hands pressed over his ears. She called the police. A while later, a young officer and a harried-looking woman from child protective services arrived to collect Bailey.

Therina answered their questions as best she could. When they left, she said, Oh, I think he has an ear infection. He keeps messing with his ears. That night she slept better than she had in years. When her alarm chimed at 7am, she pulled out her earplugs and lay in bed for a while. Her forehead wrinkled. Finally, she sat up with white eyes.

God, it's quiet, she breathed. Apartment 1 a and 1B hadn't been themselves. The scruffy dog hadn't but in days in if. If anyone had gone in or out of one B, they'd done it quite discreetly. She closed her eyes, and a smile crept across her face. Music pulsed through the floor and walls, and into her ear canals. Oh, her eardrums vibrated, and a smile slipped. And Mel and Samba with a sprinkling of Beethoven, she said.

Something heavy collided with the floor upstairs. She ground her teeth. "'I guess it's too much to ask for everyone to be quiet.' "'We glanced at her clock told her it was 7.15. "'She dashed at the bathroom to get ready for work. "' Weekends at the library were usually bustling, "'but that Saturday passed like molasses, "'with only two people coming in.

"'When she arrived home, she knocked at 1B. "'Still no answer. "'She tried 1A. "'Well, their bell didn't work, "'and no one answered her knocking, not even the dog. She grabbed her mail from the box and made a mental note to tell the super to check the entryway. It smelled dank and earthy. Probably a leak somewhere, she thought with a frown.

Two babies cried in unison as she passed one sea, and she rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue at them. Once her front door click shut behind her, she went through her evening routine and climbed into bed. As she lay there, her breath caught in her throat. There was nothing, I mean, no barking, crying, booming, stomping, or even slamming. God, even the distant hum of the traffic and click-clack of the L was absent. The only vibrations came from within.

Her lungs moved air, her heart pushed blood. It pulsed through arteries, veins and capillaries. Her breathing slowed. She fell into a deep sleep, her earplugs clutched in her hand. In the morning, she made coffee and curled up in her favourite. chair. She'd planned to spend her day off making a dent in her ever-growing pile of books to read. After an hour, though, she hadn't made it beyond page one of book one. Her inner voice had said each word loud and clear, but not one had been absorbed. Serena finished her coffee, and her stomach

gurgled. The refrigerator hummed. She cleared her throat. The radiator hissed and clicked, and the wind whistled through a draughty spot in the sill. She tapped her nail on the coffee cup, water dripped from the kitchen faucet with a dull thought. She slammed her book closed and stood with a huff. Everywhere she looked, something in her usually tidy apartment mocked her with imagined layers of dust. Serena spent the rest of the day furiously scrubbing everything

while muttering under her breath. Exhausted, she collapsed into bed with the book, But she found herself staring at the same page again, the words still refusing to have meaning. Her fingertips rasped against the pages. She rustled the sheets, and her stomach groaned. Turning off the light with a click, she stared at the ceiling. In the back of her mind, Serena realized 1D had been quiet all day. Probably a coincidence, she whispered.

In the complete absence of sound, her brain tried to make sense of the sense of the nothingness. She had snatches of music she was certain weren't there. She sighed. The music was replaced with someone speaking garbled words. She turned onto her side and clutched a pillow to her chest. Her bed creaked under her. The garbled words were swapped out with indistinct whispering. It grew louder surrounding her. Serena snatched her earplugs off the nightstand and stuffed them into her ears. She drifted to sleep, listening to her own steady breathing. On Monday morning, Serena awoke with a start. She glanced at the clock. Eight! She rubbed her gritty eyes and stumbled out of bed, struggling to clear the wool

from her brain. The same vivid dream would run a mock in her head all night. It began with someone whispering in her ear, and then the whispering grew more strident until it was whispered shouting that echoed in her head. Oh, she'd start awake, fall back asleep, and the dream would repeat. The whole thing dredged up long-forgotten memories of childhood fever dreams. Fifteen minutes later, she hurried out of the entrance and down the stoop. When she reached the sidewalk, she skidded to a halt. Her brow furrowed.

Every Sunday night, the car parked along her street would all vanish like clockwork in time for the Monday morning street cleaning. This morning, however, all the cars were still there, and no one was in sight. Her hand tightened around the strap of her bag. She listened. The omnipresent hums, clacks, screeches, or beeps of planes, trains, buses and cars were gone. Not even a breath of wind stirred the branches of the bare trees. Heavy silence pushed down on Serena from all sides.

She could barely breathe. Taking a step back She pulled her phone from her bag With a shaky hand and called work It rang many times before going to voicemail She tried her sister in the suburbs Voicemail She hesitated for a moment and tried the police

It rang And rang Movement caught her eye There was something on top of the building Across the street She squinted It looked like a tree A tall trunk with branches

except we were swaying in the still air. Her mouth fell open. Serena looked up and down the street. Every building had a swaying tree on the roof. Their undulations made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Her hand lowered from her ear. The phone slipped from her numb fingers and clattered onto the concrete. The noise ripped through the silence like an explosion.

The trees froze and then quivered. One by one, they leaned to one. ward her, their branches reaching for her. She turned and ran back inside the building, slamming the front door shut. Her bag slipped to the ground unnoticed.

Her legs trembled as she leaned against the mailboxes panting. The door to 1B was open a crack. She dashed inside, screaming, Please, help me! There wasn't anyone there. She ran to the open bedroom door, light filtered in through thin, ratty curtains,

and the double bed a stained blue comforter covered two bulges, one smaller than the other. Hello? Serena said. The bulges didn't stir. A whiff of freshly churned soil invaded her nostrils. An ice-cold lump made itself at home in her stomach. Her body no longer felt like it was hers.

Serena approached the bed, her feet moving on their own. Her arm lifted. Her fingers grasped the edge of the comforter. Her mind registered how stiff with dirt it was. Oh no, don't. But her hand tugged. The comforter pulled back. The stench of wet earth and decay hit Serena in a wave.

She clamped her hand over her nose and mouth as she gagged. In the bed lay two twisted, muddy piles of woodluck like sickly green tree roots. Something stuck out of a gap in the roots with a smaller pile. Serena held her breath and leaned in closer. The ears of a stuffed rabbit were held tight in a small, pale fist. She turned her head away. Unbicking eyes stared at her from inside the other pile. A wide maggot squirmed across a mirror.

milky pupil. Serena shrieked, and spinning around, she staggered back to the hallway. She fell against the wall, her legs threatening to give out and dump her in a heap. She gasped for air. Reasonable thought danced out of reach. Where did everyone go? She said. Something creaked above her.

Her eyes opened wide, and her head swiveled toward the staircase. Hello? She said. Serena listened for a minute before her feet turned of their own volition and climbed the old, groaning stairs one by one. On the second floor, all the apartment door stood ajar. Everything was quiet. She turned to two E and slowly pushed open the door, wincing when it squeaked. Miss Corbin?

Miss Gallo, she breathed. No answer. Serena swallowed and stepped inside. I'm coming in the place was tidy but her nose wrinkled at the musty air no one was in the living room kitchen or dining room miss corbin miss gallow she whispered she tiptoe through the dark narrow hallway to the bedrooms every bare floorboard that creaked sent a twitch coursing through her body mustiness became pungent dankness that made her eyes water She covered her nose with her coat sleeve. The bedroom door to the left was open. The room didn't look lived in.

She turned to the other door. It was closed. She knocked. Silence. Blood thundered in her ears. She twisted the cold brass knob and slowly pushed the door open. Darkness. Thick drapes covered the windows.

Serena felt along the wall until she found a switch. A lamp clicked on, and she flinched. Both women lay in bed, arms wrapped around one another, and neither one moved. No, no, no, this isn't happening. Tears pricked her eyes, and her feet took her closer. Their faces were paled with a blue tinge, their eyes closed tight. They seemed to be wearing crowns woven out of bare vines. Thin white filaments came from the vines and intertwined over the women's ears like lace.

Serena shuddered, and again her body moved on its own and she stepped closer. Vines trawled from the crowns to a large hole in the wall above the headboard. Taking another step, her foot found a discarded shoe. She slipped and almost toppled into the bed. flinging out her arms to catch herself, she knocked Ms. Corbin's crown off her head. A long, thick filament fell out of Miss Corbin's ear canal onto the bed. It writhed and lifted itself like a cobra as if it was staring at Serena. She froze, and it swayed slowly like the strange trees had.

She swallowed hard and took a step back. The filament twitched, lowered itself, and slithered slowly toward her. her. She screamed and fell back against the door. It slammed into the wall with a deafening bang. A shiver coursed through the vines. They poured out of the hole in the wall in a slithering mass. Filaments slid into the dead women's noses, eyes and mouths. Vines twisted around the bodies until they were enveloped in squirming green-brown cocoons. The stench of decay reached a crescendo. burning hot bile climbed Serena's throat. She stumbled out of the apartment.

Clapsing near the stairs, she vomited her scant breakfast of coffee and toast. Raspin came from behind her then. She looked down the stairs and bit her lip to hold back a scream. A muddy mass of vines was slithering up. She clutched the railing and climbed to the third floor, glancing over her shoulder every other step. At the landing she found the door to every apartment wide open, and it was silent. The smell of rot was stifling in the still air.

Saliva flooded her mouth as her empty stomach heaved. Serena whimpered and slumped against the wall. Her breaths were coming too fast, her vision grayed and narrowed, and her legs gave out, and she slid to the floor. Whispering surrounded her as the building began to vibrate. With a crack, plastic exploded from the walls. Vines surged out. They twisted around her head and slammed it against the wall so hard she saw silver spots. Filaments slithered around her ears. Screaming, she ripped off the squirming vines and scrambled away on hands and knees.

Her eyes fell on the metal ladder and hatch leading to the roof. The hatch was ajar. Serena stood and lurched down the hall, and with clammy hands, she grasped the metal rungs and climbed. She pushed open the hatch and pulled herself onto the roof. Blinking in the sunlight, her body went cold. Twenty feet away stood one of the swaying trees. It was as tall as a normal tree, but it moved like it was listening to music.

The trunk was pale and shiny with criss-crossing, pulsing dark lines, making it look like tightly stretched skin full of varicrous veins. bare vines ending in thin white filaments spilled over from the branches and hung low to the ground gnarled roots splotched with patches of sickly green moss and stinking brown mud fanned out across the roof Their tips burrowed deep, infiltrating the building. Only one thought was able to break the surface of a frozen mind. If she squinted, the tree would look like any one of the weeping willows dotting the lakefront, their lith, harmless branches waving in the breeze. She fell to her knees and sobbed.

The tree quivered. Its trunk leaned over, lowering its vines to the ground. They slithered toward her with lightning fast speed. Her mind screamed at her body to get up and run, her limbs wouldn't listen. Vines wrapped tight around her head and body, a filament slid deep into her ear canals. A strangled cry escaped her mouth,

and her bladder let go. She heard her breath coming out in ragged pucks, her heart pounding in her chest, her blood rushing through veins and arteries. Those sounds dimmed and other ear-splitting noises took their place, her scalp rasping over her skull, her eyes blinking, her neurons firing. Soon, those sounds faded too, until all that remained were the deafening collisions of air molecules.

Serena's body fell silently to the ground as the sound-eaters drained the last vibrations from the world. Those who came before. By Dremantus. In the mid-2010s, now, it's hard to recall the exact year, to be quite honest. I was a zoologist working as both a consultant and field specialist for the UN. It was a great job for someone like me who enjoys writing detail papers, conservationist efforts, and working up close and personal with wildlife.

Now my specialized field of study is herpetology. For those who don't know what that means, it's the study of amphibians and reptiles. Oropatologists are some of the most important, well, when it comes to consultations concerning ecology, and environmental impacts that are related to climate shifts and human projects, as amphibians and reptiles are typically the first to show signs of environmental impact, adapting in various ways to suit their new environment, or dying off rapidly.

Now, as most people in the world will know, reptiles are typically found in warmer climates. Arid, tropical or temperate climates typically suit them best. Amphibians favour more humid and warm climates, so while you might not find many amphibians in a desert, where you could still find snakes and lizards. Overall, you'll find a considerable overlap in the environment of lizards and amphibians thriving.

The reason I'm telling you all these otherwise innocuous details about herpetology is because of the strange mission that I was sent on, a field mission to Antarctica. Well, as I'm sure you can tell, Antarctica is far away from the ideal environment that a herpetologist would perform ecological studies in, and there are no known species of reptile or amphibian living on that ice rock. So, why was I being sent? Seeking answers to this nagging question, I approached the head of biology working for the UN, Bill. He was an older gentleman, short white hair, with a hairline beginning to look like the letter M.

His facial features were hard and wrinkled from stress and age, but somehow didn't detract from the kind and fatherly demeanour that he had. He wore something between business casual and the beach dad. His exact outfit escapes me, to be honest. Now, as far as I can recall, the conversation went something like this. Oh, excuse me, sir. a couple of questions about, well, yes, about your most recent assignment to Antarctica. No, of course he already knew my assignment. He was the head of the department. He would have had to have known about the orders and okayed them. Yes, sir, I'm just a little bit confused. Why would I... But he cut me off again. Why would a herpetologist be sent for a field study

in a place like Antarctica. Blah, blah, blah, son, I know the questions you've got for me, and I knew you wouldn't go along with it quietly. His nonchalance annoyed me, and his refusal to let me finish my own sentences boil my blood, but, well, he wasn't wrong. He didn't know the exact question I had for him.

Oh, calm with me, son. The answers to all your current questions are down in the admin sub-levels. Oh, the admin sub-levels. I mean, is it okay for me to go down there? Oh, yes, I've already filled out the necessary paperwork for you to be able to accompany me down there, and I even have your temp badge with me.

He added me a badge encased in vacuum-sill plastic with a loop at the top to facilitate the metal clip-on tag. Clip the badge to my shirt pocket, and he clapped me on the shoulder. Ah, there, my boy, now, follow me. It led me to an elevator that was down a long hallway. I'd remember thinking to myself, what could be so important that they both need to keep it hidden in the admin sub-levels, as well as allowing a field specialist access to the sub-levels in order to see it.

I amused that there wasn't any point in pondering this, and chastised myself for worrying about a topic I was mere minutes from finding answers to. The elevator hummed as it made its way down from the third floor, where we began our descent past the second, first and basement floors, and into the sub-levels. No music was playing, and very little in the way of talk between myself and Bill. Could he tell I was nervous, and picking up on it but staying quiet for my benefit? Or maybe he was just as nervous as I was. The older man's hardened features were somewhat unreadable to me,

as our descent into darkness continued unabated, and the silence remained unbroken. The elevator finally dinged as we halted, a barely audible sigh of relief escaping my lips. The elevator's analogue sign displayed sub-level 12. Oh, what's on this level, sir? Well, you'll find out in just a moment. No, I didn't mean whatever it is you brought me down here to see. I mean, what is this sub-level for? Belied me for a moment before shrugging.

well you're gonna see it in just a moment kiddo and he finished with a laugh ain't no harm in telling you the elevator door opened revealing a long pristine white hallway with bright white lights illuminating the entire length this here is a lab where we keep top secret classified specimens for research and development now

oh i can't let you in to see anything but the specimen that pertains to your experience expedition, but, well, there's a good chance that when you make it back home, you'll have a big fat promotion waiting for you, so you might not have to wander about them for long. Then lightly clasped my arm with his gruff hands and gave me a reassuring squeeze before he began to walk briskly down the hall, expecting me to follow, and so I did. It laid me down a series of hallways and T-junctions, knowing exactly where he was going and where he was at all times. How he had such a knowledge of these tunnels astounded me,

but a man of his experience working with this particular complex, well, it made sense. We arrived relatively quickly at a door marked UKX-101, unknown reptilian tissue. It seemed to be one of the only doors label on the outside. I wasn't sure as to the rhyme or reason why. I wasn't left to ponder my query for long, as the door was unlocked and flung open, and I was ushered inside. Inside there was a large storage container,

cooled by some mechanism, a locker and an examination table along with tools and scalp-books. Once the container was opened, I could see a large vacuum-sealed plastic bag. Red tape marked the corners of the bag, and some sort of hazard symbol was marked firmly in the centre,

a symbol I didn't recognize. Hey, what's the symbol for? I asked. Well, Bill replied in a somewhat concerned tone. It's a symbol we use for unidentified specimen. Biohazard potential. Whatever this is, it doesn't match any species of any animal currently extant,

meaning it's either ancient and could potentially contain ancient viruses and bacteria where our modern world isn't prepared for, or it could inflict other hazards upon nearby personnel. We really don't know which, if anything, is the case. I nodded at Bill, putting on the PPE stocked in the locker. All in all, a protective gown, a face mask and shield, disposable gloves and thick, disposable long pants that cover the shoes.

These were required before we could continue. After donning our biohazard armour, as Bill put it, we opened the cooler once more and removed the plastic bag, bringing it to the examination table. Now the bag wasn't quite see-through, but I could feel. feel the shape and almost the texture of the object contained within. It was definitely rough and bumpy, not quite scales, but something similar.

We could open the bag once at the examination table and pulled out the contents. We pulled out an enormous, strangely shaped, clawed appendage about the length of the average human male's forearm. I began my examination, listening idly allowed the qualities that I found noteworthy. It appears to be covered in something similar to scutes or scales.

Definitely some sort of dermal or epidermal armour, or a heat sink. The chlor is about eight inches in length. I need a fragment to perform an analysis, but doesn't appear to be made of keratin. Hmm. Strange. I began to flip it over and inspect the opposite side. It was much the same as the reverse, but... Oh.

That's interesting. There appears to be a small hollow that terminates somewhere within the claw at the tip. Almost like an oversized needle or fang. But it definitely isn't. This appendage appears to be an arm or leg of some kind. The appendage has thawed slightly, and I noticed the portion of the limb about four inches from where the claw began and seemed to slump slightly forward.

I wiggled it to confirm my suspicions. it moved back and forth freely. Yeah, this appears to be some kind of ankle or wrist, a pivot point for the appendage. I reached for the scalpel to begin dissection, but Bill grasped my hand firmly, yet not threateningly. Ah, thank you, son, but that ain't your job. I got boys to focus on this.

Your job is the expedition. I nodded, yielding to the older man's orders. We packaged the limb up, stored it in the icebox once more, and exited the room. And once we'd left the room, we doffed our PPE and threw it in a biohazard bin. So, well, what does this have to do with my expedition to Antarctica, sir? Well, he began. His specimen was recovered from an excavation team in the Antarctic permafrost. The team that recovered it wasn't sure what it was, but thought,

it looked reptilian or crocodileian, so, well, that's your mission. You and a team of geologists, excavators, and zoologists are being sent to Antarctica to the site where this unknown species was discovered. Your job is to either find live or dead members of the same species, document and assess them. If you find more, especially intact, remains, you'll also be expected to bring them back here for further study. The preparations for the journey went smoothly. a few weeks worth of food for our team and the excavators currently stuck on site. A few snowmobiles, winter clothing, well, I'm sure you get the idea.

A portable structure with pre-installed insulation will be airlifted in near the site shortly before our arrival, and that would be where we stayed until the end of our expedition, or until an emergency was called in. The numerous flights from the UN's headquarters were long and boring. I didn't actually arrive in Antarctica, until about two or three days after our initial departure. The weather was bitterly cold, the wind bit at every exposed inch of our bodies, and even through my thick beard as I felt the kiss of ice and snow on my face.

We unloaded the snowmobiles from the cargo bay, strapping our supply boxes onto ski-like beds and then drove off towards our destination. Due to not wishing to disturb the side of our expedition, the portable living structure was airlifted in almost a full mile away from our destination. Once we arrived at what would be our living quarters for the next two months, we began to unpack, claim rooms and settle in.

I chose the room furthest from the direction of the work site, and after unpacking my personal belongings and situating the room to my liking, I decided it would be a good idea to establish communications with the team of excavators, whose small work town was in between our station and the work site. I bid my colleagues to get some rest, as I didn't expect to be out for very long, and I'd be joining in the rest bite soon before I drove off on one of the new snowmobiles.

Well, there was something strange in the air as dusk fell on the landscape, a sort of electrical feeling in the air. I couldn't quite place the feeling of discomfort I had, nor that strange energy in the air, but the sensation only grew worse as I entered the ramshackle work village. I slowed to a stop right at the edge of the village, walking the machine back and parking it perpendicular to the nearby houses. I saw old, used up remnants of burned wood in the centre of the town.

I wasn't quite sure how long it had been there, or the snow had had long enough to cover it after the fire had been extinguished. Hello? I called out, hoping the workmen weren't already asleep, or that we'd expected them at the expedition work site and had headed there. I began to walk through the rudimentary village. As I made my way through the centre, I noticed that the crew's motor sleds were part on the opposite edge of town,

in a corner by a much bigger-looking shed than the rest. Hmm. Was it their headquarters? Well, I wasn't sure, but I could tell that at least most of them were still around the town. I walked up to the larger building and knocked loudly. Hello? Is anyone there? arm with the research team sent by the UN. My understanding was that we'd be working together to find out what exactly it was that you dug up out there. The sound of hurried footsteps, with an unsteady rhythm, sounded from inside the building.

Was the person drunk? Or had I awakened them from a deep slumber? Who goes there? A voice shouted from inside, muffled by the door between us. It's Blake Hewitt, UN biologists. My understanding was that you were told of our expedition and that you were... Oh, the man cut me off by opening the door and yanking me inside. Well, he caught me off guard, allowing him to easily overpower me and pin me against the wall just inside the door.

Hey! I shouted, but he cut me off from saying anything else by cupping my mouth with a hand. His palm was sweaty, though the shack wasn't well insulated enough to be warm, and he wasn't even dressed in worn clothing. Oh, he had a wild look in his eyes as he slowly released my face. He then jutted his index finger out and drew it to his lips, hissing a quiet... I looked around for a few tense moments, cocking his head at angles, as though we weren't looking for something but rather listening for something. Oh, I don't think it's out quite it, he said in a distinct drawl, sounding somewhat like a cowboy trying to impersonate an Australian. "'Ah, you're a lucky one boy.'

He then released me from his grip and began to pace. "'What? Don't think what's quite out yet,' I asked harshly, rubbing my now slightly sore arm. "'What the hell is so important?' "'Ah, quiet!' He cut me off in a whisper, yell, drawing his finger up again. The howl of the frozen wind outside was all that could be heard. After a few moments though

I heard something that the wind had carried along with it A noise I heard was hard to describe It was almost like an opera singer maintaining such a high note It was barely audible to the human ear As I focused my attention on the noise however I could hear slight differences in the note Some kind of song

A melody and an extreme pitch And obviously one no human could possibly be responsible for Oh, he's finally come out for the night, the man said in an almost inaudible whisper. What is it? I asked as quietly as I could, as the man lowered himself and I to a crouch. Ah, I don't rightly know. All as I know is that, well, siren or whatever it is, has been out here for the past three nights. Comes from out the mountains, about a quarter of a mile yonder. He pointed discreetly east in the direction of a small mountain range that ran in a southeast to northwest direction, terminating somewhere over the horizon directly north of us.

You can hear that infernal song, can't you? I nodded. I used to be the foreman of this year operation. First night after calling you all in, two of my men said they could hear someone singing to him. Something about how whoever was singing had to be out in this. hellish snowscape for a long, long time. I told them they was hearing things. Then I started to hear the singing too.

But, well, it weren't words, not like you and I speak. My daddy used to be a fisherman, and his daddy was too. They passed down tales about sirens through generations by word and mouth. Figured it was a myth for the longest time, but, well, hearing that, hearing my men say, they hear words in that cursed melody. I knew it had to be some kind of siren So me and the boys dragged them two back to town Kicking and screaming, practically frothing at the mouth

I swear we had to tie them boys up to their own beds Come morning time though Them fellows was gone Rokes weren't cut, broken or untired neither He was just gone He sighed and shook his head Slow at first, then rigorously And rubbed the stubble on his foot

face thoughtfully. Almost the same damn thing happened the next two nights. Last two of my boys been taken right out from under me last night. It's like they were possessed. I couldn't drag them back myself. We had to bend every effort we could to drag them back the first two times. But, well, I'm once strong enough. Then boys walked off into the freezing death out there.

No long John's no coat. Hardly anything but their skivies. off into the mound as I went, and I ain't been back yet. Well, now it's back, back too. The singing had stopped, causing the foreman to cut his sentence prematurely. All was dead silent. Not even the icy wind sliced through this silence. We went to make a move towards the back of the lodge,

when suddenly a large figure landed on the roof of the shack across the way from our hiding spot. I could barely make out any defining traits, but it was like nothing anyone had ever documented on earth. On the one hand, I was fascinated by this unknown species, wanting to study it, capture it, do what I set out to do. On the other hand, something within me screamed and raged against the confines of my mind. Get away. It felt like a part of me was screaming. Get away, get away. The foreman was frozen in place, his face shifting between blissful calm and wild panic almost every instant.

He finally settled on calm and stood up. What? What are you doing? I asked in my own whisper yell. Get the fuck down. He's going to see you. We don't even know what it is. The foreman ignored me entirely, so I moved as fast as I could from my crouch position towards him.

I tried with all of my might to bring him. down to my level and even attempted to yank him down to the ground but to no avail. Oh, he wants to be let in Blake. The foreman said in a tone of boarded fanaticism, while his face

and demeanour remained perfectly calm. He wants you to know something. I looked out of the window searching for this he, the mad foreman was talking about, but the only thing different about the cold dead night was that the creature had moved.

He was no longer on the building across from us. There was nowhere in the line of sight to any of the windows. I got up quickly as the foreman began to take his first steps towards the door, trying everything from shoving, tripping, hitting. Nothing worked on the man as he continued his relentless march towards the door. A few steps before he reached the door, I dove under a nearby desk, wanting to hide from the eyes I now felt that were constantly on me. The feeling of being watched never left me.

I could feel the cold, uncawing eyes gazing at me from every direction. I decided to poke my head out just enough so my left eye could peer around the wall on the underside of the desk. The foreman had finished his robotic walk towards the door and waited for just a moment. A loud thumping noise could be heard outside, like wet earth being struck by a sledgehammer. and the sound of powdered snow could be heard scattering against the outside wall of the building.

The foreman now reached for the door handle. Slowly, almost torturously slow, he turned the handle and opened the door, letting the cold perpetual winter in, and whatever creature was out there was sure to follow. At first I couldn't see anything past the possessed madman at the door, and then he began to back up slowly, as I could hear a thumping on the rudimentary wooden floor of the working men's headquarters. The thumps of each step the creature took were followed by a clicking, almost skittering noise,

almost as if claws or stray scales were hitting the floor with each step. As the creature came into view from behind the foreman, I was able to behold all of its horrible majesty. The dull grey-green of the creature's skin, the appendages bent at strange angles, too many appendages to make any kind of anatomical sense. The head contained no discernible features, apart from what, to a sane mind,

would appear to be a mouth, but obviously didn't function that way. It was perpetually agape, but no teeth could be seen within, only a black and red pulsating mass of flesh. Well, or so I thought, until it opened one of its eyes. The singular putrid yellow-red red orb, glowing within what I'd originally presume to be the creatures more, blinked, rolled around rapidly as if scanning the room at a speed the human brain couldn't process, and, in almost half a second of this, settled on the lunatic that let the creature inside in the first place.

There was a static charge in the air again, and as though called upon or compelled. The foreman approached this monstrous siren. Once again I was surprised as the mouth eye socket once more proved to be neither. An appendage, horrifically the same as the one I'd examined back at the UN base, protruded from the orifice on the creature's head. The appendage that I once thought to be lined with scales or scoots also proved itself to have neither, instead revealing that it was covered in thousands of tiny eyes,

that same horrid yellow-red red colour as the last. large one I saw within the creature's head that first time. The vicious claw extended from within the limb, the entire appendage throbbing as the claw dripped this glistening disgusting fluid. The nightmarish creature plunged its claw deep into the former foreman's head, making odd undulating motions across the appendage and causing some sort of spasms within its myriad arms, neck, and strange movements of its hair. head that no humour could perform or even describe. The closest I can come to a description is like the picture of an old TV,

the static on the screen causing the picture to shift from side to side. Those spasms continued for what felt like hours, but truly only lasted less than 30 seconds. I heard the creature make a strange noise similar to a hum after the spasms abated, and as I gazed upon it, all of the visible eyes. on the appendage snapped to the desk that I was hiding under. The mouth, eye, limb, retracted into a facial orifice. A voice coming from God only knows where

surged forth like a tidal wave from this thing, crashing against the foundations of my mind, until, slowly, I was able to make out the words of the creature before me. You, human, your kind, is not walked in this place since the dawn of your species, not since you developed your primitive tools and your animal vehicles. Why have you come here now, and doomed your brother into a life under our care?

The voice sounded deep and distorted, as though the very earth shook as he spoke to me. I, I, uh, came my stammered speech. "'Clearly explain your reasons for encroaching on domains you know belong to us. "'Do it now.' "'I don't know what you're talking about. "'What are you? "'Where could a being like you possibly come from?

"'Did you evolve alongside us on Earth? "'What are you?' "'I spoke shakily to the thing menacing me from across the room. "'Now moved in my direction, and the influence it had on me without my knowledge strengthened, and against my will I clamoured out from underneath the desk, now standing face too, well what I assumed to be a face, with a real ungodly monster.

Are you to tell me that not only you do not know what I am, but you never knew of my existence in the first place? Your species has forgotten mine. Your kind doesn't remember that this is where, we dwell. The question surged into my mind, not in an orderly fashion, but all at once. It took me a moment to pick through the words and force them to make sense in my mind, and I began answering the questions in the order I forced my senses to perceive. I, yes, yes, that's what I'm telling you. I don't know who or what you are,

nor that there were more of you. We don't have any historical accounts of your kind. nor that you had laid claim to this part of the earth. Part of, the creature bellowed through my mind, an assault that nearly knocked me unconscious. We do not lay claim to part of the earth, human. This world is ours, by right of the first, by right of the intelligence, and by right of might.

We merely can only live in your colder regions, and detest you here. humans. We tolerate your existence on this planet for various reasons, but the agreement was always that you were to leave our dwellings and never return. My head spun from the sheer volume of rage this creature exuded, and I propped myself against the desk. Steading myself, I spoke once more. I didn't know. I... I paused, falling to my knees as I threw what little remained of the contents of my stomach up. Panting, sweating, dazed and exhausted, I remained kneeling before this creature, and it seemed to have a sick satisfaction from this display.

We didn't, we didn't know. We couldn't have known. No record of you exists. No dominant civilization other than ours, or in our history books. I'm... We... I'm sorry. I blurted those last words out like the bile that had just moments ago escaped my lips. The creature moved towards me and reared up to its full height. God, it must have been nine feet tall at the shortest. It extended most of its limbs,

and I could almost make sense of the architecture of them, and I could see legs hooked back in digitigrade fashion, but strangely it walked on the soles of its feet. It still had two of its sets of arms planted on the ground, ground, hands bored in fists as it rested on its knuckles. The chest of this creature was solid and smooth-looking with no bones obviously exposed anywhere on its body. The arms it raised into the air swiftly came down around me in a tangled mess, but the creature's grasp on me was firm, almost strangulatingly firm. Tell all of your kind, however you are able, that they are not

welcome in this sector of the world, nor the magnetic opposite of this sector. The ones we have captured will be slaves or food, and you will not have them back. You alone will return, and you will ensure none disturb us again. If you fail to make this happen for us, none of you will be allowed to exist on this planet. The creature's arms began to squeeze tighter and tighter around me. I couldn't escape. I screamed, more loudly, more frightened, and in more pain than I have ever been in my life. Now, be gone. Those last words seemed like a whisper, as I jolted awake, screaming, but alive, and back in my room, back at the complex.

I panted as I tore myself out of bed and clasped to the floor, laughing, laughing a joyous laugh, the laughter of life. Well, the laughter soon turned to wailing. crying and rage, but eventually I settled into a mixture of all these emotions and shuddered quietly on the floor. I'm not sure how much time passed before I picked myself up and got dressed, but as I exited my room and explored the complex, I took note it was empty, except for signs of struggle in some rooms and a few bloodstains which I took to cleaning. So, it definitely hadn't been a dream. Everyone was gone and I alone had to drink. return to civilization to report this to everyone. I made the call to bill over a satellite phone

that had a spotty connection at the best of times, but oddly enough worked almost perfectly today. I made up some bullshit story about the ice shifting during a blizzard, and it had dragged everyone but me to their dooms. The helicopters arrived within a day. The only things they seem to really care about recovering were the food items, myself, and the motor sleds. We left the portable shelter behind, along with my colleagues, lost to the siren, or sirens, who lived in those mountains. The next few days were a blur in my mind. A few debriefs here and there, some questioning, investigations and accusations. I avoided being a suspect in the case for their deaths and answered the question satisfactorily enough to get them to stop. I know I needed to

spread the siren's message to the world, but for now I needed to. to hide it. The only way that would make me sound is like a madman that had murdered his companions. The only one I could trust the information with was Bill, and he believed my story. He thought, though, that

I was a fool to take their warning seriously. Ah, we need to organise another larger expedition to that sight, son, not leave it alone. And no matter how hard I'd try to make him see reason, he wouldn't. luckily world crisis after world crisis has delayed the expedition until this year he didn't want me to spread the message to the world but i have to the truth has to be revealed the u.n is planning another expedition to antarctica and if they're caught by the sirens not only will they die but i fear they might just damn us all by proxy when they make their plan public we must bend every effort into stopping that expedition

We must leave those who came before us alone. 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 favour of you. Wherever you get your podcast wrong, please write a few nice words and leave a five-star review as it really helps the podcast.

That's it for this week, but I'll be back in. again same time same place and i do so hope you'll join me once more until next time sweet dreams and bye-bye