Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S6 Ep341: Episode 341: Incredibly Weird Horror Stories

Episode Date: May 26, 2026

Today’s opening creepy short story is ''Mr. Sandman'', an original work by Andy 546789, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all.https://www.reddit.com/user/andy546789/Tonight’s second fantastic tale is 'Molly, Molly' by Jaime A. Heidel, kindly shared with me for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all:https://www.reddit.com/user/_itoldyouiwassick_/Today’s third phenomenal offering is ‘Don’t Talk to Strangers’, an original work by MammothFormal1; a story shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me read it here for you all:https://www.reddit.com/user/MammothFormal1/Tonight’s fourth tale of terror is ‘The Candyman: How Cotton Candy Ruined My Life’, a wonderful story By Mandahrk, kindly shared with me via NoSleep and narrated here for you all with the author’s express permission:https://www.reddit.com/user/MandahrkToday’s next offering is 'I am a Babysitter: Something is Attacking the Children’, an original story by Crone Johnson, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all.https://www.reddit.com/user/Crone_Johnson/Tonight’s sixth terrifying tale of the strange and macabre is ‘Fresh Meat’ by the wonderfully talented Corpse Child, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all:https://www.reddit.com/user /Corpse_Child/Today’s next phenomenal story is ‘Killer Beauty’, an original work by Ivan Radev, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all.https://www.reddit.com/user/MasterL0L/Tonight’s penultimate story is ‘The Plague Doctor’, this one an original work by Bloody Spaghetti, once more kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all.https://www.reddit.com/user/BloodySpaghetti/Tonight’s final story is ‘My Sexbot was Obsessed with Me’, an original work by Black Fridays Witch 13, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all.https://www.reddit.com/user/blackfridayswitch13

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please contact Connix Ontario at 1866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. Welcome to Dr. Creepin's Dungeon. Weirdness. It's a subjective and multifaceted concept that refers to something that deviates from what is considered normal, typical or expected in a particular context. It involves a sense of peculiarity, oddity, or unconventionality that may provoke surprise, curiosity, or even discomfort in some people.

As we will see in tonight's four strange tales. now as ever before we begin a word of caution tonight's stories may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery that sounds like your kind of thing then let's begin the jungle wasn't used to visitors for thousands of years its vibrant emerald vegetation had laid undefiled by the corrupting gaze of mankind those few foolish enough to wander in lured perhaps by the legends of a hidden treasure that awaited them at its heart became ensnared in the thorny embrace of its arms, never to be heard from again. There were those who worshipped the jungle and the thing that lived residing deep inside it, the tribe that lived just on its outskirts. They prayed to it, asking for mercy and protection. The jungle enjoyed their fear, thrived off it. But the day was different. There was someone knew traversing its ancient shadowed trees, and she was not afraid. Eva Barker had been wandering

this god-forsaken jungle for three whole days when she found the entryway. She would have found it sooner if that damn shaman hadn't been so vague with his directions. It was so obscurely hidden beneath a thick, gnarled foliage that she would have been forgiven for missing it. No, not forgiven. She would not have that kind of luxury. Forgiven. Forgiven. She would not have that kind of luxury. forgiveness wasn't in Cecil's vocabulary. A bastard. And if she had sauntered out of the jungle empty-handed, he would have put a bullet in her brain.

Just like it did to Samantha. Oh God, Samantha! She'd stopped herself from recalling the events of the past few days, just busied herself with a mission at hand. But she couldn't take it anymore. All the memories came roaring to the front, and she began to violently strike at the large mottled tree next to her, banging her fist on the sturdy wood over and over again

until her hands were covered in blood. She shouted until her throat was sore and her nerves were frightened. Damn it, Samantha, why? she rasped. She sang to the jungle floor, exhausted. Look at me, she thought to herself, I'm so pathetic. If her father was still alive to see our father, she'd fallen from the family tree, he would have disowned her on the spot. Unlike the world-renowned

anthropologist Stephen Barker, who had come by his treasures legally, Eva had veered onto a path paved by deceit and thievery. For 15 long years, she and her partner Samantha King had raided the most ancient tombs and stolen the most guarded secrets of the world. She had no regrets, and if given the chance, would do it all over again. She loved it all. The sweet thrill of discovery, the adrenaline of the chase. But,

well, Samantha had grown tired of it all and yearned for a more normal life. At first, Eva couldn't understand why anyone would want a normal life. What was that, even? A steady job, a couple of kids in a nice house with a white picket fence in a gated community.

Fuck, no. But Eva loved Samantha with all her heart. Ever since she'd first laid eyes on her in her in her luring red dress at that dull party at the American Museum of Natural History all those years ago. She was willing to set aside her own aspirations to be with her. They had promised each other that this would be the last time. A pristine jungle in the wilds of South America

that was said to hide the greatest wealth the world had ever known. they would go and take their shares and live out the rest of their lives on some pig farm or whatever the fuck in texas but now Samantha was gone murdered by cecil bright even knew from the beginning that he couldn't be trusted knew that he was nothing more than a conniving two-bit fuck and it turned out she was right but first he played by their rules over the course of several weeks, the trio had gained the trust and admiration of the tribe that lived on the jungle's outskirts. They'd learned their customs and rituals, even entertained their inane talk of an ancient

evil that lived deep in the thicket. A creature made of sand that possessed the secrets of life and death. But those were just stories, superstitious nonsense by a people who didn't know any better. As time went on, Cecil grew more and more unstable, his patience wearing things. in. Then, one day he lost his mind and beat the shaman to a bloody pomp, forcing him at gunpoint to divulge the location of the treasure. For the shaman's compliance, he was rewarded with a bullet. The pale white walls of the hut died red with his blood. He either couldn't believe her eyes. Call her a thief and a liar all you want, but she was no murderer. Samantha had tried to reason with Cecil,

but whatever reason he had left in his little brain had fled long ago. He gunned Samantha down, putting a bullet through her spine. As she lay dying, he laughed in her face and finished the job. Gave Eva an ultimatum. Go and retrieve the treasure for him or end up like the rest. Eva reluctantly agreed,

and now here she was, three days later, a teary, sweaty mess lying on the jungle floor. She got up to her feet and went over to inspect the entryway. It was a large gaping hole hiding on the side of a rocky wall, covered in thick, thorny vines that curled themselves tightly around the doorway. Eva took a machete and started whacking at the constricting cuticles. But instead of chopped bark, her hit sent hot crimson, blood spurting into her face. After a few more hits,

an unearthly wail echoed from inside the gaping blackness of the entryway. The screamed so haunting that it sent shivers down her spine. Then the vines began to move and unknotted their twisted fingers, leaving the entryway wide open. Eva peered inside.

Blackness as dark as night stared back, taunting her to come inside, if she dared. She took a moment to steady her nerves, and with a final sigh of resignation, she plunged into the darkness. She wandered for what seemed like days, traversing the blackness with only the lonely beam of her flashlight as company.

But it might as well have been off. It did nothing to alleviate the oppressiveness of the place. There was nothing to hold on to, nothing to see. it was as if she was floating in a dark and void, lost in its shadow. But long last, she saw a glimmer of light up ahead of her, a sliver of hope in this dismal place. She ran towards it, when anything was better than this wicked twilight zone.

When she got closer to the light, she saw that it was emanating from an open passageway. The first thing she noticed as she stepped through was the acrid aroma of decay that scented the fetid air. He struck her by surprise, and she fell into a coughing fit, gagging and trying her best not to vomit. She wrapped a scarf around the lower part of her face to mask the smell. As she gained composure, she saw that she was in a long, spacious room piled high with gold.

Well, it spilled out of every corner, had invaded every last crevice of the place. She couldn't believe her eyes. The legends were true. There were enough riches here to last multiple lifetimes. As she continued to scan the place, her eyes landed on the source of that disgusting smell. There, in the centre of the room, was the body of a man, or at least what used to be a man. Its long, emaciated body lay sitting on a throne of pain. Hundreds of snake-like vines were wrapped around it,

driving their needle-sharp thorns into every inch of its virgin flesh. Its bones were contorted, distorted into impossible positions. Where its eyes and mouth should have been, only jagged, blood-encrusted holes remained. Eva couldn't help but be drawn to this, this thing. She was mesmerized by its defile body. Despite the pain that ravaged its soul, it seemed at peace, so content, so serene, so beautiful. As she neared the creature,

she could see its chest rise and fall, could hear its harsh, ragged size. So it was still alive. How could something like this be in so much pain and still be alive? As if hearing her thoughts, the thing lifted its head and stared at her through its bloody, empty holes.

It began to laugh, a haunting and maniacal cackle. Its body shook and contorted, its bones snapping from the movement. Sand spewed forth from every hole in its body as the laughter grew louder and louder into a cacophonous cackle that permeated into Eva's very soul,

raised its bony fingers and beckered her towards it. The entire room had started to fill with rosy, blood-freckled sand, but she didn't care. All the matter, was the creature. She embraced it, letting the thorns cut into her skin,

piercing every inch of her body. She ran her delicate fingers over its scarred, crated face, and plunged her arms deep into its cavernous eye cavities. From out of the holes, she produced a chunky stream of rotted gall. Suddenly, an immense hunger panged her,

driving deep into her gut, she regarded the awful for another moment and then began to feed devouring it without a second thought she had need for days and was starving pleasure wrapped her body and she groaned wiping the blood all over her face and body she leaned down and kissed it slipping her tongue deep into its mouth hole savouring every lick and suck sand began to spew out from it flowing into her mouth and down her throat she sputtered choking drowning in the sand that was filling her body and coursing through her veins but she wasn't afraid no eva felt a calmness engulf her entire being then the sand invaded every part of her being and she was no more cecil paced furiously up and down the hut Where was she? Where the fuck was she? It had been three whole days and she still hadn't returned.

It was a simple task. Go in, take the treasure, leave. She had probably taken it all for herself and fled. Hadn't she that bitch? He thought. He should have gone and done it himself. He reached his gun and prepared to leave this backward place. Never sent a woman to do a man's job, he thought bitterly.

but as he opened the flaps to the hut, a sharp horrendous smell punctuated the air. He turned and came face to face with Eva, or at least what was left of her. Her limbs were stretched out of proportion, long and spindly spider legs and arms. Her belly was bloated and bulging, and a large, caved-in bloody hole was where her face used to be.

Eva Cecil asked Is that you? What the fuck happened? But the Eva thing didn't respond It only stood there motionless Then, just as suddenly as it appeared It was upon him tearing into his flesh

He tried to fire at it And the bullets had no effect They were simply absorbed into the scarred body Eva tore his body Eva tore his body limb from limb, and Cecil screamed and screamed and screamed. The tribes people had heard poor Cecil's cries for help, but they were too afraid to enter the hut. At long last the screams died out and all was quiet. Eva stepped out from the hut, her mutilated body drenched in sand and blood,

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All you need to do is go to drinkag1.com slash creepen. That's drink AG1. dot com slash C-R-E-E-P-E-N. So join me, check it out now. Geraldine Farmer stared out the window over the kitchen sink, hands clutching a dish towel. The thunder-clap came again, followed by a streak of lightning. She started and backed away. Well-worn slippers scraping against the linoleon.

The rain began to fall, coming in erratic drops that beat against the window in the size of the house. After another rumble of thunder, the sky opened up and the rain poured down in sheets, groaning on the roof, slapping the glass. The wind howled, and the trees surrounding the house whipped against the darkening sky like subjects bowing to an invisible gong. Geraldine's fingers fumbled behind her and gripped the back of a wooden kitchen chair. Without taking her eyes from the dramatic scene just outside her window, she sank into its cushioned sea. As the storm rolled on, Geraldine's focus on the backyard softened. The woods behind the swaying trees on the perimeter of her property were thrown into sharp relief as another streak of lightning lit the sky. It was in that split second, but Geraldine saw the face.

The face was young and pale with a glimmer of a smirk playing on blue-tinted lids. A rushing sound to her left tore her attention. tore her attention away from the horrifying visage. The calendar had fallen off the wall. Grateful to be busying herself with anything other than the face in the woods. Geraldine rose and crossed the room. It was as she was pushing the thumb-tack back into the wall, that she saw the date.

June 30th, 2008. Her left side jerked spasmodically, and she gasped in pain as a hot lick of a fire shot up her neck. into her head. She staggered backward, only vaguely aware that her vision was becoming incredibly blurry. June. Her daughter. Turning, she reached for the warm-mounted telephone and dialed 911.

When the operator answered, Geraldine Farmer uttered only one word before collapsing into unconsciousness. Molly! Molly Larson slammed the door to the sedan and flew up the pebbled walkway. Her grandmother stood just inside the screen door and bent to embrace the child as she bounded up the steps. Hi, Granny, Molly said brightly, her blue eyes dancing. Hi, Mom. As Molly's mother plodded up the walkway, Geraldine noticed how deflated she looked.

Hello, June. They embraced, and Geraldine stepped back, allowing both of them to enter her small, cottage-style home. How you doing, Molly? Geraldine asked as they stepped into the living room. Did you have a nice try? It was all right, Molly said, twirling a long strand of blonde hair between her fingers. Her grey blue eyes sparkled,

and she lowered her voice to a whisper. We got lost a couple of times, though, and somebody caught Mommy off on the highway. She gave them the bird. Geraldine shot her daughter a look, but June just rolled her eyes and sagged into the love seat with a son. Molly hung her head. I'm sorry.

It's all right, sweetie, her grandmother told her. We all get angry sometimes and do things we later regret, right? Molly nodded, making a point to avoid her mother's eyes. Oh, can I go outside and play on the task? Geraldine nodded her approval. Just don't wander off, June called, but Molly had already disappeared out the door. Well, I can't believe the tire swing's still let, June said. I remember when Dad put it up.

Geraldine took a seat opposite her daughter in a worn, hazely printed chair. June, things are getting worse, aren't they? The younger woman's dark brown eyes instantly swam with tears. Mark served me with divorce papers, Mum. It's over. Geraldine sighed. Oh, honey. I'm so sorry.

June ran thin fingers through a short tangle of honey-colored hair. Honestly, I'm not. For the first time, Geraldine noticed how thin her daughter had become. The soft cotton dress that would have hugged an hourglass figure just a year ago now hung limp as a dish ran. It looked as though somebody had picked June up and simply rung her out. He's happy with Marcy, June told her mother. happier than he ever was with me.

Molly and I are better all. Well, good reasons to him then, Geraldine replied, a snap in a voice. You can do better. You're still young. You'll find somebody else. At age 32 with a 10-year-old, she didn't exactly feel still young. If anything, she felt double her age most days. The affair and subsequent divorce was taking a lot more out of her than she wanted to admit. I'm not concerned with that now, Mom. I just want to get myself back together so I can be a better mom with my little girl.

She's only ten years old and she's already seen way too much. Geraldine nodded. Do you think this spiritual retreat will help you? June favored her mother with a rare smile. I'll make it work. For Molly. Thank you for taking her for the summer mom. I'm not fit to be a full-time parent in the state I'm in.

well she always spends a month here each summer right what a two more she's safe here june said glancing over her mother's shoulder to peer out the window nothing but woods and streams townhouses and cottages there aren't any freaks or child molesters running around like there are in the city geraldine turned and smiled as she watched her granddaughter play on the tire swim she was on her stomach and she wound up the rope as tight as legs would allow and was letting its unraveling spin her around. Why did you name her, Molly? What? June's voice rose an octave. She gave an uncertain little laugh. Mom, that was out of the blue. Besides, you know why I named her mom? Geraldine turned back, a small frown furrowing her brow. I do. Mom. Really? June regarded her mother quizzically. What brought this on? Geraldine shook her head.

Ah, humor, an old woman, will you? Mom, you're only 62, June protested. Then, seeing the strange look at it come into her mother's eyes, June relented. All right, I've got the name from you. And yes, I can see you really don't remember, though. Geraldine's frowned, Dean. Do you remember the stroke you had right before I gave birth? Oh yes, of course. We were in the hospital at the same time. I really thought I was a goner.

Yes, and I was so worried about you that it brought on my labour a few weeks early. Mike and I hadn't decided her name yet. She was just baby girl last in for almost a week. Geraldine nodded, listening. I brought the baby in for you to see. I sat on the edge of your bed and showed you your granddaughter. You've been dozing, but you opened your eyes for a second and looked at her. The first word out of your mouth was, Marley, Geraldine finished. Her hand flew to her mouth. Oh, Jim, I completely forgotten that.

June shrugged her small shoulders. I took it for a sign or something. It's a beautiful man. Geraldine forced a smile. Yes, it is. Ring around the roses, a pocketful of posies. The sing-song melody floated on the wind. It mingles so perfectly with the ambient noise of the birds, rustling leaves and dune bugs.

Could have been there all along. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down. The familiar words fell from Molly's lips in a whisper. She wriggled out of the tire swing and glanced around. Hey, who said that? Molly stood by the swing, one hand on the tire, to slow its movement. She looked around but saw nobody else nearby. Somewhere in the distance, a lawnmower started up.

Movement out of the corner of her eye turned her attention to the woods. The tall, thicket of grass at the edge of the property began to ripple, even though there was no breeze. The hint of a giggle coming from that same direction made Molly move close. she began walking towards the woods as though her small bare feet had a mind of their own alley molly asked uncertainly is that you the movement in the grass stopped and molly too halted she was standing just at the edge of the woods now the grass came nearly to her shoulders in some spots it was then that molly noticed the change in the atmosphere The sound of the lawnmower and the beetles were muffled now

as though two thick wads of cotton had been stuffed into her ears shaking her head she took a step forward reaching out both hands to part the blades of the grass and the thin white hand came down on her shoulder she screamed How's your grilled cheese sweetie? Geraldine asked Molly washed down a thick wad of bread and cheese with a swallow of milk.

The glass had begun to sweat, and it slipped in her hands, making a loud thwop against the table when she tried to set it down. She jumped at the noise. It's good, Granny. I didn't mean to scare you outside, honey, Gerardine said. It's just I've been trying to call you. You didn't seem to hear. I'm sorry.

Molly felt her insight squirm at the recollection of the incident by the woods. Why had she been so scared? Molly prided herself on never being afraid, especially since Mum always seemed to be. When the hand had grabbed her shoulder, out in the backyard, Molly didn't immediately recognize it as her grandmother's, and she'd shrieked like a baby gazelle being mauled to death by a lion. embarrassing. I wish Charleston and her family hadn't moved away. Geraldine went on, sipping a glass of iced tea.

You and she always lied to play together in the summer. I thought maybe she'd come back. Geraldine's smile was tender. She placed a hand on her granddaughter's showing. No, they saw the house months ago, I'm afraid. The elderly couple lives there now. They have no grandchildren. It looks like it'll just be you and me this summer.

Molly frowned. There are no other kids in the neighbourhood. Geraldine shook her head. Not that I'm aware of. That's weird. How so? I heard a girl in the woods today. Geraldine flinched, drawing her hand away.

Oh, you must have imagined it. Molly chewed on her lower lip. Yeah, I guess so. You be careful around the woods, Molly. You understand? Molly was startled at the sudden snap in her grandmother's voice. Okay, I will. You're not really.

to go into those woods alone. Molly nodded. I used to go with Ellie sometimes. We took a shortcut to her house. Well, it was all right with Allison. She grew up in these woods. She knows them. I knew them.

Molly grew quiet. She stared down at the table and sighed. At first, when her mother had told her, she'd be spending the entire summer at the cottage, Molly had jumped at the chance of being able to be free of her parents' constant fighting. She'd imagined long days with Ali, playing in the woods, swimming in her pool and having fun. Ali had written to Molly right before she moved. Her mother had misplaced

the letter and the bad news that had come with it. It had only surfaced a couple of days before the trip to Grandma's house. Molly hadn't made a big deal out of the letter in front of her mum, but when she was finally in bed, she cried herself to sleep. She loved her grandmother, But the thought of being her only playmate through the whole summer made Molly's chest feel heavy. She didn't want to cry in front of her grandmother right now, so she grabbed the slippery glass with an iron grip and chugged what was left at the mill. Hey! Geraldine spoke gently. Why don't we go to the orchard tomorrow and pick an apple?

If I just get a bit higher. Molly spoke through gritted tea. She stood under a small apple tree, one arm stretched so hard. it felt as if any moment it might come out of the socket. She was pushing so hard to reach the shiny green orb above her head that her toes hurt. She felt a surge of renewed hope when her fingertips brushed once and then twice around the fruits. Then a sudden cramp in her left leg sent her sprawling to the ground. Damn it! She brushed sweat-soaked hair off of her forehead.

She glowered at the apple as it bobbed in the slight breeze. who might as well have been laughing at it. Need a hand. Molly turned to see a tall, dark-haired boy beside her. Though she hadn't answered his question, he was already stooping to pick up the apples that had spilled out of a small basket. Molly guessed him to be about twelve.

Oh, thanks, Molly said, getting up and brushing off her backside. The boy smiled shyly and returned her basket. No problem, he said with a shout. I'm Adam. Molly. You live around here? No, Molly said, shaking ahead.

I'm visiting my grandmother for the summer. Oh, come to think of it. Where was her grandmother? Molly scanned the rows of trees. She could have sworn she was just beside her only a moment ago. Is her house here in town? Molly had been concentrating so hard, on trying to locate the familiar purple dress and grey hair that she started at Adam's words.

Um, no, Wally said, shifting the basket. She lives in a college out at Bridge Creek, right by Harper's Woods. Adam's mouth dropped open, and he took a step backward. He seemed to be about to say something when he was interrupted by a sudden yell to their left. Harley! Geraldine, face flushed, hair askewerews. came panting toward the two children. Her eyes darted back and forth between them. She laid a hand on her granddaughter, Sean. Where have you been? I thought you were right behind me.

Molly felt her face began to flush at being scolded in front of a boy who was almost a teenager. I'm sorry, Graham, Molly said. I thought you were right behind me, too. Hello there. Geraldine said stiffly, nodding curtly to Adam. Hello, I'm Adam. I'm here with my dad, but he knows where I am. Molly suppressed a giggle. The kid obviously thought he was about to be scolded as well. All right, Geraldine said. Her expression is softened. That's good to know. Sweetie, your arm's ready to get going. We need to stop at the grocery store before we go home. Sure, Molly said. Nice meeting you, Adam.

"'Nice meeting you had,' Geraldine parented. Molly and her grandmother had made it most of the way out of the orchard before Adam bounded back into sight. He tapped Molly on the shoulder and greeted her startled crying with a wide grin. In his hand he held the elusive fruit that had caused their meeting. "'Oh, um, decided you might want this,' he said, topping off her basket. "'Oh, thanks,' Molly said, glancing backward to be. be sure she didn't lose her grandmother again. Hey, listen, I guess you haven't heard her.

Molly frowned at Adam's sudden change in tone. His dark eyes were dancing with mischief. What are you talking about? Harper's Woods is haunting. Oh, come on, Molly began, but he cut her off. No, seriously, he said, stepping back. It's really weird that you're staying there for the summer, too. what's so weird about that adam gave her a long look before speaking again i can't believe you don't know adam said shaking his head the ghost in the woods her name is molly

molly stared into the woods and bit down on a tart green apple defiantly she hated that stupid kid adam it had been three days since he told her that dumb story about a ghost with her name trying to convince her herself that he was just some weird kid looking to scare people had done little to stop the night months. Her grandmother kept asking Molly why she looked so tired at breakfast, but Molly didn't want to say. She was sure her grandmother would think the stress of her parents' divorce or loneliness was bringing it on. Besides, Grandma hadn't been feeling too well herself for the last couple of days, and the last thing Molly wanted to do was make her feel worse. After a third night of bad sleep, Molly made a decision. She was going to go into the woods.

She'd been in it a million times with Allison, and her best friend had never told her about a ghost in the woods. Also, she knew as long as she avoided it, she'd probably keep having the nightmares. When she walked towards the edge of the property line, she threw a guilty glance toward the house. When she left, Grandma had been sleeping on the living room sofa bundled under a blanket, tissues and hot tea at hand.

Molly convinced herself that it was because she didn't want to wake her grandmother up that she hadn't asked for permission. Yeah, right. Molly adjusted the small pack on her shoulder, stepped past the tall blades of grass, and walked into the woods. I'll just walk to where Allison used to live and walk back. If no ghost gets me, then there is no ghost. Molly set off down the small worn path, oblivious to the present. taking shape behind her. Marley, Marley wants her dolly.

Three-12-year-old girl stood in a circle around a fourth child, a thin blonde who appeared younger than the rest. The older girls tossed a doll between them, sticking out their tongues and making faces at the girl in the middle. The little blonde jumped up each time the treasured toy flew overhead, and though she stood on tiptoes, she couldn't come close to reaching it. Don't pick on me.

Despite the defiance in her tone, her trembling lower lip egged the bullies on. Poor little Molly! Want a lolly? Marianne, the tallest of the girls, produced a dumb, dumb lollipop from a pocket in her overalls. Sarah had the don now, his short red hair tangled up in her thick fingers. She swung it back and forth like a pendulum, a sour expression on her pudgy face. Don't swing raggedy ann like that. Give her back. Why don't you run and cry to your Grammy, Molly?

Jerry, the third girl chimed in. Yeah, Marianne agreed. She looked to her friends. Her mommy doesn't want her. Dropped her off on the doorstep and ran away. How come your mommy doesn't want you, Molly? Jerry asked. Yeah, Sarah agreed.

Is there something wrong with you? Why'd you spend all your time in the woods, Molly? Jerry asked, scornfully. I hear you talk to yourself. Sarah jeered. The lollipot Marianne had been holding hit Molly on the side of the heads, making a loud thwok in her head. Leave me alone, Molly shrieked.

Her fists clenched into balls at her side as tears poured down her cheeks. Just leave me alone. Just then, a sudden gust of wind rocked the trees in the woods around them. The sky, which hadn't held even one cloud only moments ago, was suddenly grown dark as though an unseen hand had reached. reached out to block the sun. Thunderstalk, Sarah announced, tossing the doll to Marianne. Jerry seemed to be the only one to notice the sudden change in Molly.

The young girl was no longer crying. She wasn't even moving. She was glaring, emerald eyes darting methodically from Marianne to Sarah and then back to Jerry. Jerry felled herself taking several step backwards, nearly plowing into Marianne and Sarah who began to dance amidst the sudden rain shower. A deafening boom of thunder followed a streak of purple lightning that painted the sky. Hey, watch where I'm running, Marianne laughed, shoving the doll into her friend's hands. Let's get out of here, Jerry yelled above the storm.

Her gaze still on mine. Those eyes. They just kept moving, no, ticking. Jerry realized with a cold. crawling shudder, the eyes reminded her of one of those Kit-cat clocks ticking off the seconds. Yeah, let's go, Sarah agreed, pushing a wet tangle of hair from her face. The two girls took off down the path, shrieking with delight. Jerry watched them go, and I get lost in the woods. The voice was so close to her ear that Jerry screamed and jumped back. Though Jerry had only looked away for a moment. Molly had somehow managed to cover the ten or so feet between them in that

time. Her face was only inches from Jerry's. Her green eyes dark with rage and still red rim from crying. She snatched the raggedy Ann doll from Jerry's loosening grip with animal ferocity. A smile on Molly's pale face was pure rage. But I'll come back for all of you. Geraldine worked with her staff, her hand clutching at her sweat-soaked chest. As she struggled to ride herself on the sofa, she was seized by a sudden coughing fit. Grabbing a cushion for support, she reached for a tissue and waited for the fit to pass. Damn it, Geraldine cursed. She could still see the cold eyes locked onto hers, still feel the sudden shock of cold

raindrops through the canopy of dense forests. I'll come back for all of you. that whispered threat uttered nearly five decades ago still echoed in her mind as though the words have just been spoken marianne sarah and geraldine had all made it out of the woods unscathed that day and molly had stayed true to her word she disappeared the search party had been sent out to look for her when jerry despite the protest of her friends told molly's grandmother that they'd last seen her playing in the woods. Neither Molly nor the body of the young girl was ever found. Jerry had been terrified to knock on the old woman's door. For decades she'd held the title and reputation of town witch.

Though she had been polite, Molly's grandmother had stared coldly at young Geraldine throughout her well-rehearsed lie as though she could see straight through her. She knew what the kids in the neighborhood said and did to her grandchild, though she passed away long before she ever saw what Molly had in store for them. Ten years later, on the exact anniversary of the day Molly disappeared, then 21-year-old Marianne Hutchins decided to go for a walk in the woods, though she hadn't entered them in a decade. She got up early in the morning, left her newborn son with a neighbor and vanished. The neighbor would later report that Marianne had looked at. The neighbor would looked almost as if she was sleepwalking.

The neighbour also noted that she thought it odd that Marianne was not wearing a coat as it had been pouring rain. They found her body by the river three days later. The papers hadn't been specific, but the ranger who'd found her began telling tales to anyone who had listened that the young woman had been found with her eyes wide open. Face contorted in fear. Ten more years were passed before the death of Sarah's grandfather brought Sarah

her husband and two children back to her hometown. By this time, Geraldine had all but forgotten the strange incidents of Harper's Woods. She'd been married, and she and her husband were expecting what would be their only child. June. Geraldine had been sitting at the kitchen table the next morning, cutting Sarah's grandfather's obituary out of the paper when the phone call came in. Sarah's husband could only conclude that, in her grief over losing her grandfather, Sarah must have woken in the night to take a walk

and had perhaps gotten turned around in territory much changed since her childhood. They found her car park just outside of Harper's Woods and the body only 20 minutes later. Though the coroner had proclaimed accidental drowning as the cause of death, Geraldine knew better. It was then that Geraldine made peace with the fact that she only had one decade left to live.

but death instead came to claim the life of Geraldine's husband during the span of that ten years and she didn't come in the form of an angry child on a specific anniversary date Walter had simply stepped off the curb and had been hit and instantly killed by a drunk driver though Geraldine spent some time worrying over June she soon convinced herself that nothing supernatural had ever had designs on that the strange deaths of Marianne and Sarah were just creepy coincidences The insurance money Geraldine had come into from her husband's death had helped her and her young daughter more than either of them had expected.

June was able to attend a private boarding school during the fall and spent each summer at an exclusive summer camp. Geraldine closed her eyes now and forced herself to take a deep breath, picked up her mug of cold tea and took a long swallow to further calm her throat and prevent another coughing fit. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes, with the tissue she still clutched in her hand. She rose from the couch and made her way to the kitchen.

Selecting a glass from the cabinet, she turned on the tap. As she passed by the window, a flicker of movement caught her eye. She frowned at the calendar that hung on the wall by the phone. Its pages were fluttering as though caught in a breeze, but a quick glance around the kitchen told her no window was open. Geraldine's heart raced as her feet moved her toward the, the fluttering pages. She felt the glass slit from her hands.

It hit the linoleum and shattered. But Geraldine didn't hear. She didn't even feel the glass shard that penetrated the thin sole of her house slipper and she staggered backwards. A flash of lightning lit up the sky. Geraldine gasped and turned a face drained of color to the window and the woods beyond. Oh no. The voice was a whisper.

Molly whirled to face the sound but could see nothing but forests. She licked dry, chapped lips and swallowed her. Who's there? She'd heard a twig crack a few minutes ago. Had somebody or something been following her? When the shape appeared from behind the gnarled old oak tree, Molly gasped and took a step back. The little girl smiled.

There's a storm moving in. You should go home. Molly's chest tightened as she stared at a young girl who appeared to be about Molly's age with a long, stringy blonde hair and a tattered dress. The only thing that stood out were her eyes, green and almost unnaturally bright. Who are you? Molly asked. I'm Claire, the little girl said, stepping forward. It seemed to Molly that with her own.

each step she took. The little girl seemed to glow brighter somehow, as if bathed in her own private sunshine. I bet you thought I was a ghost, her? Molly surprised herself by giggling. Yeah, well, somebody told me a ghost story about these woods. Oh, I come here all the time, Claire said, I've never seen a ghost. When Claire reached out her hand, Molly felt the slightly cold but solid presence of bone and skin when she shook it. She felt her muscles relax. The girl was just as real as she. Where do you live?

Claire pointed. On the other side of the woods. You know the old lakehouse? Molly laughed. I thought me and grandma had the old lakehouse. No, the other one, Claire said. Molly's mouth formed an, oh, of surprise. You live where my mother.

best friend Allison used to live. Blair smiled. I do. Yeah, and Grandma told me there were no other kids there. Claire shrugged. Oh, I'm staying there with my grandparents for the summer. Sudden rumble of thunder caught their attention.

Molly looked up. Why hadn't she noticed the sky getting so grand? Do you want to come over, Molly? I'll tell you the real ghost story if you come with me. Molly felt a spidery shiver crawl along her spine Claire I never told you my name Claire turned back

frowny Yes you did Molly shook her head She stared back No I didn't Thunder clapped again Molly looked up as the lightning flashed across the sky

When she looked back Claire was gone. Molly gasped, turning right and left as large drops of rain splashed on her head and arms. Ring around the rosey. The voice was a deafening whisper all around her. Somewhere in the depths of the woods, Claire laughed, a maniacal giggle that reverberated off the trees and seemed to chase the falling rain deep underground.

Molly, Ran. Amali! Geraldine screamed as she slid down the embankment. A sharp pain shot through her leg, and she prayed as she tumbled and rolled that it wasn't broken. Nobody knew where she was. She could die out here.

She landed on her hands and knees in the deep puddle of muddy water. Molly! She'd been curming the woods for nearly an hour, but so far it had seen no sign of her granddaughter. The rain poured down in sheep. Shearlyly in a tree and held on. For a moment, she was twelve years old again, helping her friends pick on a helpless little girl. She saw the rage in the eyes of the girl and not so distant memory.

Fifty years to the day. How would she not realize the date? Lightning flashed and lit a streak of blonde in the distance. At first, Geraldine was struck by an urge to scream. then she recognized her grandchild barefoot both slippers lost long ago under muck and leaves Geraldine staggered barefoot towards Molly's unconscious form

Molly Geraldine slid down to her knees and cradled the rain-soaked head in her arms oh God please don't be dead baby honey wake up but the face was grey the blue lips parted Geraldine put her hand to those lips and felt no breath. Molly!

Geraldine pushed Molly onto her back and began performing the CPR she'd learned from a YWCA course over 30 years ago. Though she had no idea if she still remembered what to do, instinct took over. She pressed on the small chest and blew frantically into the child's mouth. A strong gust of wind picked up, wailing through the trees and nearly knocking Geraldine to the mud-soaked forest floor. She looked up, gasping, momentarily distracted from her task. And she just heard her voice. Something moved in the distance, her figure. Was somebody out there?

Help! Help! Over here, please! It's my granddaughter. I think she's drowned. Something moved, an amorphous figure melting into the trunk of a tree. Geraldine squinted, shook her head and resumed. the chest pumps on her grandchild. An explosion happened beneath Geraldine's hands as Molly sat bolt upright and gasped for air. She fell onto her side and began coughing up water.

Molly! Molly! Geraldine cried, holding her granddaughter close. You're all right. Oh, you're all right. Grandma? That's right, honey. Grammy's here. Geraldine pulled Molly away and held her at arm's length. checking her over for any injuries. The child's face was still pale,

but the colour was quickly returning. Geraldine smoothed her hair out of her granddaughter's eyes. Her granddaughter's eyes. They were green. All pretense gone. The strange child's mouth twisted into a wicked smile. Hello, Jerry. Geraldine staggered backwards with a shriek.

No, no, where's my granddaughter? where's Molly? The little girl shook her head slowly, looking down at Geraldine as though she were a slug beneath her feet. Crossing the short distance between them with unbelievable speed, Molly knelt down and pressed her face

close to the older woman's. I am Molly, silly. No, no, you're not my Molly, Geraldine yelled, trying to pull herself upright in the mud. The sudden pain shot through her arm, and radiated upward through her jaw. The crushing chest pain soon followed suit,

Geraldine knew she would never make it out of the woods alone. Your eyes, June will know that you're not her daughter, Geraldine crowed. Molly from 50 years ago smiled again, moving away from the older woman who lay dying in the rain. She closed her emerald eyes, and when she opened them again, They were the same shade of grey blue as those of her late grandchild,

whose body was now being piloted around by a vengeful spirit. Mommy June and I will have a wonderful life together, don't you think? Those were the last words Geraldine Farmer heard as the darkness closed in. The woods finally claiming her for its own. I've lived in Pike Falls, Georgia for my entire life. Pike Falls has a population of less than a thousand. The town's mostly populated by working class people. Many of us haven't even graduated from high school.

The largest employer in town is a lumbermill and there are more bars than traffic lines. Everybody knows everybody. And they're not fond of outsiders. And after last weekend, neither am I. I'm writing this because last Friday my life changed forever. I often find myself in one of the town's many bars on Friday and Saturday nights. This is a common theme amongst the other residents of Pike Falls. Unlike many of these other folks, I had something to drink about, something that was far worse

than a stressful day at the mill. I got off work around 9pm and headed to my favourite bar. A cosy establishment called the cabin to drink away my feelings. Well, I should have known something was off that night. The cabin was almost empty, except for a handful of people sitting at dinner. tables and one man sitting at the end of the bar. It was quiet, too quiet for a Friday night, I thought to myself. I took my seat at the bar and ordered my usual drink, a tall, cold draft of bugs. I tried to focus on watching the football game that was on the TV that hangs over the bar,

except my eyes kept wandering to the man at the end of the bar. He hadn't seen him before, and he was way overdressed for Pike Falls. He wore all black dress clothes and a black furrow. He wore all black He was tall and thin. He appeared in his early 60s and very pale. He sat in silence at the end of the bar with his legs crossed, stirring what looked to be an old-fashioned. A few other patrons that were in the bar were lost in their quiet side conversations. Not this guy, though. He seemed to zone out into his drink as if he was reading a crystal ball or something. Finally my curiosity got the better of me. I asked the bartender, Mikey, if he knew anything about the mysterious man at the end of the bar.

In town on business or something. Said he was waiting on someone. Been here for a few hours. Maybe the poor jump got stood up. Mikey replied, distracted by the football game on TV. After downing three more drafts, I decided that no one should have to wait around alone. And I decided to approach the stranger.

Hey, bud. My name's Tim, I said, holding out a hand to the stranger. The stranger's enamoured gaze on his drink broke, and he stood to shake my hand. Ah, they call me water. It's nice to meet you, Tim. He said in a confident, accented voice. Damn, this guy is tall, I thought to myself. Despite being a rather tall man myself, the stranger towered over me by at least six inches. Well, I got talking to Waller for an hour or so. He was in town on business like Mike is suspected. while I was taken aback when I asked where he was from and what that accent was.

He replied, Oh, son, I'm from down south. You wouldn't know if I told you. Was time past the bar emptied even more. I was pushing midnight when the last patrons left. Strange for a Friday night, usually townsfolk would stay until last call. I didn't mind, though. Water was an interesting enough guy with very entertaining stories.

Judging from our conversation, it was clear. Walter didn't seem to understand football. Mikey even interjected at one point. You're from further down south and you don't know much about football. You live under a rock or something but, letting out a cackle. Ah, something like that, Walter said, with a smooth-looking smirk. Some time passed and we kept talking about football and local affairs. As he got later, Mikey mentioned.

closing down early. He asked if we'd mind clearing out once we've finished our drinks. Walter and I obliged and wrapped up the conversation that we were having. Mikey went to the back to finish his infantry for the night. This Walter Geist was a little weird, the kind of person that the locals would have alienated right quick, but he seemed to be a good guy at the time. I was about to leave when Walter turned to me,

with a lit cigar in his mouth and said, Well, Tim, looks like my business partner must have backed out of our deal. He's run into some trouble. Thank you for keeping an old man like myself company. No problem, but, I replied. Before he could reply, I was overcome by intrigue, and I asked, what kind of business are you involved in exactly? I do trades of sorts.

Nothing a youngster like you would be interested in. I assure you, Walter said in that same confident-sounding voice. I sensed that this meant he didn't want to share any more, so I took this at face value. Some of what he said, well, it had seemed strange. Ah, that sounds neat. Looks like you do well for yourself. I told him, while gesturing to an expensive-looking watch on his wrist. I then shook Walter's hand one more time.

It was nice to meet you, buddy. Drive safe, wherever you're going next, I told him. Wait, you deserve something for keeping the geese-alive-me company. No one else wanted to, after all. Walter said as I turned to walk away. There's no need for that. Oh, but I insist. What can I do for you, Tim?

Walter said, sounding more urgent, almost pushy. Ah, well, I guess you can pay my time if you. you wouldn't mind. I replied, feeling very confused. God, was this guy some kind of creep? I thought to myself. Oh, you can do better than that. What exactly do you want? Walter replied. Look, man, I don't know what you're talking about. What do you mean? What do I want? I felt tense at this point as though I was being interrogated.

Don't be foolish, Tim. Money? women fame I can give you any of those Walter said while giving me an exasperated tired look How about Your son?

He said getting wide-eyed You found a look of excitement on his face My heart Sank I was overcome by a dozen feelings Rage, guilt Horror, confusion Complete another shock among others

My ground the cuff of Walter's jacket and pulled him close to me, close enough to whisper in his ear. What the hell did you say to me? How the fuck do you know anything about my son? I said while holding back tears. Water smirked to me, and he pulled me in even closer. Because I'm the devil, son. He replied, as poised as ever.

I let go of him immediately. Who was this bastard? I thought to myself. And how the hell did he know anything about my son? I stood there in complete shock. I was in tears at this point. What happened to him? I asked, my voice cracking. I knew that my four-year-old son had been kidnapped three years ago,

but I never knew more than that. The following downward spiral led to my divorce and subsequent patronage of this bar. I still blame myself for his disappearance, and so did my ex-wife. Oh, Tim, I could tell you, but you don't want to know that. Walter said, appearing to be as collected as ever. Go to hell, I yelled. Now in a frantic state, I felt nauseous. How did he know about any of this?

With pleasure, I was beginning to feel homesick anyway. His mouth twisted into a small. alas I am an honest man and I still owe you a favour so when you return home tonight your son will be waiting for you safe and sound that was the last time I ever saw Walter he strode out of the door as Mikey came fumbling out at the back room lugging a keg to the bar Mikey saw that I was in tears he could see my agonized facial expressions how much had Mikey overheard I thought

But, what's wrong? Drink too much? Ex-wife giving you a hard time again. He asked in a reassuring voice as he sat the keg down. Yeah, something like that. I replied, my body's still shaking. That other guy left? Mike asked, gesturing to the end of the bar.

Yeah, about damn time. I'm tired of these out-of-towners, I said. Holy shit! Mike said as he picked up Walter's glass. He then held up a stack of at least ten, one hundred dollar bills. This one must not be that bad, he said loudly, with a big grin on his face. Yeah, I replied. I waited around for another hour or so while Mike closed down the bar.

He'd offered to give me a ride home on account that I'd drunk more than I could even remember. I took him up on it as I'd come back tomorrow morning and pick my truck up. Mikey knew exactly where he was going as this was a frequent occurrence. I only lived three miles from the bar in a secluded home in the forest. On my way home we noticed an accident. A car had run off the road, down a ravine and head on into a tree. When the headlights from Mikey's truck touched the tree, I could tell that it was covered in blood.

Someone had died, I could feel it. What Walter said about whoever he'd intended to meet past the tree. through my head and my heart sank into my stomach. I guess he had run into some trouble. A chill ran down my spine. God, what will be waiting for me at home? I thought to myself. Mikey dropped me off at my house a few minutes later,

and I stumbled through my front door, which I'd left unlocked. I turned the lights on, and that's when I saw it. My son walked down the stairs from the room that used to be his. I began crying, overcome by sadness. I almost vomited as the putrid stench of decay filled my nostrils. My son was standing in front of me. You were the same clothes he'd been wearing the day he disappeared. The only difference was that his body was bloated and grey.

His skin decayed and waterlogged, peeling off in chunks. There was a single gunshot wound between his eyes. Daddy! I made it home, he said as he embraced me. I knelt down to embrace him back, still in shock and trying to hold back my repulsion. Then I put my hand on the back of his head, and felt my hand sink into the exit wound that the bullet had made.

I hadn't noticed the bloody cavern in the back of his skull until that point. I don't know what I was feeling inside, but it was the worst feeling in the world. A mixture of pure guilt, horror and shock, but with a strange sense of relief. The moment these emotions hit me, my cell phone rang. It was an unknown number, but I knew who it was immediately. I pulled myself together as much as I could and answered, Hello, I said, aghast at what I was experiencing. And there it was that smooth, calm voice. Hello, Tim. How? How?

How's your son doing? Lucifer said. I dropped the phone at that moment and slipped into drunken unconsciousness. I awoke what felt like an eternity later to the stench of decay. No, it hadn't been a dream. So the next time you meet a stranger, don't talk to them. You never know who they might be. This happened to me around 30 years ago.

back when I was just a child. I've never felt comfortable talking about this, as traumatic as it was for me, but I think it's beyond time I let this off of my chest. It's up to you if you want to believe this or not. Now I'm used to people thinking I'm all kinds of crazy. So, back in the late 80s, before the Babri Mosque had been demolished,

my family was living comfortably in a small town in central India. This was before the internet. Well, our family couldn't even afford a time. television, so the only entertainment we had as kids was other kids. As it goes for small towns like ours, almost everyone knew everyone else, and we always had a large group of kids to play with. My Farmer's favourite activity was playing cricket, as it was and continues to be for most South Asian kids. Every week we each get ten rupees, with the condition being that the losing team had to pool its money and treat the winners. It added stakes to our matches, and

even led to fights, but it sure was something to look forward to each Sunday. My father was against this, arguing that it teaches kids to gamble, so I had to sneak off to my much more soft-hearted mum to pay my share. So, on every Sunday at around 4pm, I'll take my cricket bat, strap it to the back of my cycle, and ride to the playground. Our cricket field was just a wide open space next to a seldom-used basketball court, about two to three kilometres away from my house. My parents aren't particularly irresponsible, so it's still a wonder to me that I was allowed to go all that way at such a young age. The little playground was oddly positioned. The only buildings near it were an old post office and some abandoned houses. If it hadn't been for us

kids, our town would have just forgotten about that area. The street lights on the road nearby were the only artificial source of light there, so believe me when I say this. When it got dark, get very creepy and none of us like to stay there after sunset it was a sunday like any other after a lot of begging and pleading i convinced my mother to give me the money and happily ridden my bike to the field i remember being one of the first ones to arrive that day selling up the stumps and impatiently waiting for the others there were about 20 of us all from different socioeconomic and religious backgrounds all united by boredom and cricket i would never have something a diverse group of friends ever again in my life, especially with what happened in Ayodhya

a couple of years later. Well, we won the match that day, and I remember playing exceptionally well myself. The sun had started to go down. The sky was a sickly shade of orange, and we were chatting about the match and deciding where to go for the treat. When I felt an intense urge to pee, asking my friends to wait for me, I decided to go relieve myself on the walls of the old post office. Yes, I had terrible civic sense back then.

As I unzipped my pants, I could hear them laughing and going away, thinking it would be hilarious to leave me in the dark. I quickly did my business, zipped up my pants and turned around, ready to leave. And that's when I saw him. I was standing next to a bicycle, with a wall of cotton candy behind him, somehow attached to his cycle. His face was tilted to the left, and he had this strangeest. squint with both of his eyes pushing painfully rightward, such that his pupils were just tiny black

specks in the white expanse of his eyes. He had a very dry mouth that pushed inward, as if he was an old man without any teeth, which was bizarre since he clearly looked very young. I stood frozen to the spot as I saw him, unable to believe what I was looking at. The next second my heart jumped as he rang the bell on his bicycle. Tring, tring, twing. while the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Imagine you're all alone in the middle of an empty field and a strange, squinty-eyed man with his head tilted to the side is standing in front of you,

ringing the bell on his bicycle, while not even looking at you. Tring, tring, tring, tring, tring, tring, tring, tring, tring, tring, in short bursts of three. Tring, tring, tring, tring. My brain tried to rationalise it. maybe he was just a candy seller, banging the middle of an empty, dark playground with no one here but the two of us.

My parents had always warned me about strangers who tried to kidnap kids by giving them poison candy. This was much more terrifying than that. After a short while, gathered up what little courage I had. What do you want?

I asked. My voice much more lower pitch than what it usually was. At that he stopped ringing the bell. For a few, few moments the both of us stood motionless in complete silence. Then, suddenly, his face jerked into a straight position, and his pupils moved to the centre of his eyes, focusing all his attention on me. Tring, tring, tring, tring, he whispered. His soft voice still sounding loud and clear in my ears.

Tring, tring, tring, tring, tring, tring, tring, tring. His mouth turned into the most of the moment. His mouth frightening, toothless smile I had ever seen as he kept on whispering. Tring, tring, tring, tring, twing, twing, twing. All rational thought fled my body as I just ran from there, forgetting everything. I forgot that I'd left my bike back there, forgot where I was running to. I just ran, with survival the only thing on my brain. Oh, I didn't know how I knew it, but I knew that if I delayed running by even, in a second, I was certain to die. Hane exploded in my legs as my feet pounded the ground,

desperate as I was to flee from this situation. I was screaming and crying as I ran, not looking behind me, yet somehow knowing he was right on my heels. My fears were confirmed when I heard him whisper, right next to my ears. Tring, tring, tring, tring, tring, tring, tring, Tring, twing. I stumbled and fell. Fear and hopelessness took over my body. I felt like a cornered animal who knew he was about to be hunted by a predator.

Reluctantly, I looked around and saw that he wasn't anywhere close to me. He was still standing there, staring at the spot where I'd stood just a moment ago. I didn't stick around to see what would happen next and ran from there, only stopping at the front door. of my house where I collapsed in exhaustion my mother herself was scared out of her wits

when she found me on the doorstep reduced to a blubbering mess through my tears I tried explaining what had happened not knowing how much she understood I would find out later that my parents thought someone was trying to kidnap me oh if only it was something that rational my um me hug me and I finally calmed down even my older sister, Fatima, was sympathetic towards me for once. That evening, my Abu went out and got my bicycle back. He was furious at me, that I was going out and playing cricket using money, and I was going all the way there alone.

He didn't know he'd never objected to that before, but most of all, furious that he'd almost lost me. He took me to the police station to file a complaint, that the cops weren't interested. We came from an underprivileged family, I hadn't even been hurting anyway, so they pretty much run us out of the station. That night, I lay in bed with my eyes wide open. I'd seen far too much that day to sleep comfortably.

I don't know how much time had passed, with me just staring at the ceiling, when I heard that scarcely familiar sound again. Tring, twing, drink, drink, drink. It was, unmistakably. the sound of that god-awful bell again, this time coming from right outside my bedroom. Close my eyes, pulled my blanket above my head,

pretending that I hadn't heard anything. The sound continued for what felt like hours, finally ceasing after I refused to take the bait. It had been a good while after the sound of the bell had stopped when I peaked out of the blanket after pulling the curtains aside. He was still there. silently standing next to his bike, his spindly body being illuminated by the moonlight.

Face tilted, eyes squinting to the right. He was as frightening as I remembered him to be. He must have sensed me, because as soon as I saw him, he started ringing the bell again. I shivered in fear and began calling for my sister, making sure to keep my voice down to a whisper. Fatima, I said urgently. Fatima, wake up. She didn't move. Please, I said. My voice cracking.

The bell continued to ring. She slowly, slowly began to stir in her bed, and the ringing immediately stopped. She yawned and looked at me. What happened? Her eyes beginning to widen as she saw fear. Oh, come on. Her eyes beginning to widen, she saw the fear in my eyes.

It's him, I whispered, tears running down my face. He's outside. She immediately jerked upright and pulled aside the curtains. There was no one there. There's no one, she said, looking at me suspiciously, go back to sleep. I immediately knew that she didn't believe me, and that she thought I was making it all up, including what I said. said it happened earlier in the evening. She pulled the curtains back and went off to sleep again.

She might not have believed me, but I knew it was real. I was alert as I'd ever been, straining my ears for the sound of the bell. But it wouldn't come again that night. I checked my watch. It was 3 a.m. and I needed to pee. I tried to hold it in for as long as I could, but the time came when I just had to go. There was no way that I was going to wet the bed. even as scared as I was. After my bladder became intolerable, I decided to brave the journey to the bathroom. As I got to the bathroom door,

I immediately knew that something was wrong. I could feel this presence inside, and I knew that I should have walked away then and there. But I pushed the door open with trembling hands, and my hunch was proven correct. I saw a figure in the dark corner. his back turned towards me. Even though I couldn't see him, I knew who he was.

He began to furiously whisper, his soft voice sounding like it was coming from right next to me. Tring, tring, tring, tring, tring, tring, tring, tring, tring. I screamed with all my might and fell backwards. He turned, his eyes shining as they focused on me, and he gave me that fucked up smile of his. I began to crawl backwards. screaming my lungs out.

I soon fell arms around me and jumped, thinking that he got to me. But no, it was Fatima. She was looking at him, her eyes wide in fear, as she realized that I was speaking the truth all along. Go get upward, she screamed, and I got up and ran. The last thing I saw was Fatima trying to close the bathroom door,

before I was out of the room, and ran into the solid frame of my father. He pushed me aside, walked into our bedroom. I didn't stop running until I found my mother and quickly wrapped myself around her legs, crying hysterically. She began to comfort me, running her hand through my hair. Just when I thought the madness was coming to an end, my father let out a yell, full of such anguish that I had never heard in his voice before, or ever would again. Army quickly walked to our room, with me following closely behind, albeit a little reluctantly.

She too let out a painful scream as she entered the room, and I understood why. What I saw there chilled me to the bone and has haunted me to this day. Fatima's lifeless body was lying on her bed, with large tufts of cotton candy sticking out of her mouth. Two men wearing hunting attire walked through the dense forest under the night sky. Over there, I see it. Automatic rifle in hand. Daniel smiled. Finally, Henry joined him. I thought it'd take forever. Witnesses say it's big, so get ready.

Always am. Lacking moonlight, they turn their bright, shoulder-mounted flashlights to illuminate the interior. Even if there are two, silver bullets would have helped. Daniel drew a handheld flashlight to further extend their line of sight. Barth said this is a dogman. Any armor works on them. Pay attention. The cave was deeper than expected

Here doggy, doggy, doggy Henry made clicking noises with his mouth Running on all fours A large animal charged at them They were fast enough to jump to the side And avoid the attack They quickly turned around Stood up on its hind legs

And tried to grab Daniel Before it could touch him He opened fire Both arms up to protect his head The dogman led out a roar Took a few steps back before collapsing to one knee. The man kicked its head, knocking the creature out.

Well played. Breathing heavily, he reloaded his weapon. But at the end of the day, you're just an animal. Something's wrong, Daniel yelled. Henry illuminated his friend with the shoulder-mounted flashlight. A thin layer of black liquid slowly crawled up his colleague's leg. The man desperately stumbled back in an attempt to escape. but the liquid had reached his waist.

He clasped to the floor as it consumed his chest. He let out a pain-filled yell, one which Henry had never heard before. It forcefully pushed its way into his mouth, replacing the shouting with a gurgling noise. Seeing his friend was most likely dead, Henry fired his rifle. The bullet holes in the thin layer of liquid instantly filled themselves. The blackness slithered away from the corpse.

and melted into the shadows on the floor. You are trespassing, a monotone voice whispered in his ear. Henry instinctively jumped back, only to see that there was nobody there. Show yourself. He blindly fired a few rounds at the nothingness. Hostility is not welcomed here. A black tentacle emerged from the shadows and wrapped himself around his arm. The man shot at it, emptying the magazine.

Unaffected, it tightened. Bones cracked and muscle-tore. Fighting to free himself, he felt it lift him off his feet. Who are you? The voice asked. Screw you. A few feet away, a figure emerged from the darkness. The short pale woman wore white sweatpants, sneakers, and a tucked-in white tank top.

Her eyes were nothing but void black, making it in. possible to tell where she was looking. You attack us and have the audacity to skip introductions. How incredibly rude! She played with her messy black hair. But you're not a dog, man. What are you? Someone who gets irritated when they don't have answers. The woman scratched the rifle from his hand and folded it like paper. This can be your neck. We're only hired home. We're only hired hunters. Some guy in a suit offered us money to kill this thing. Sounded fun. They also said it attacks local people, so why not? Why not? The light coming from each flashlight went out. The hunters shouts echo through the cave. Penelope could clearly see in the pitch black cave. The darkness

covering her eyes shrunk, leaving black human ones. Oh, poor baby! She kneeled down next to the wounded dogman. Told you not to try, but you insisted. Her voice was caring. Her demeanor had changed to a cheerful one. She lifted the dogman over one shoulder and ventured deeper into the cave. Is everything all right, Penn? The second one played with a boat. You know how your brother always acts tough. I hope he learned an important lesson today. She got the animal off her shoulder and gently placed it on a pile of leaves and barefoot. "'Can you continue with the story?' the conscious one asked. "'Sorry, no. I've got to call your parents.

"'We're not in trouble, are we?' "'No, you adorable little cub.' She pinstitched its cheek, resulting in a smile. "'Ah, it's the humans again. You two rest. I'll be right back.' Penelope drew her phone and walked up to the cave's exit. "'Hey, Dora!' she greeted the two cubs' mother. Penelope, is there a problem? A worried voice answered. Ah, humans found the cave, but don't worry, they're dead.

Oh no, is anyone hurt? Jeremy got a little bruised up, but you know how he can be. I'll bring them to the neighbours, if that's okay. Yes, of course. I'll be home in 15 minutes. No, no, relax. It was just humans. Enjoy your special dinner. I promise I'll take care of everything. however will I thank you if you're the best babysitter

and mum could ask for Penelope put the phone away and walked back inside dark clouds hit all stars along with the moon in the night sky a crimson convertible sped down the highway heading towards the distant city lights of Santa Basia

Amelia the driver or a black tank top under her unzipped white jackets being Penelope's sister she said the same black hair and eyes A small silver cross around her neck flickered at each passing light. What happened next? She asked.

Well, everything else went smooth. My point is, five families have been attacked this month. Things are getting worse. Penelope had her elbow on the car's door. Things are bad at the city as well. Amelia let out a sigh. Remember the insect people we visited a few months back? Yeah, did something happen?

they've all been wiped out all of them every single one but the hive was huge at least 50 lived there the humans won't rest until everyone is dead I haven't called the house in a while do you think they're all right

I'm sure of it how a family can handle themselves a short melody sounded from Amelia's pocket speak of the devil Amelia glanced at her phone Sorry, Penn That movie will have to wait Someone just message me

Who? Do you need help? Nothing serious Small-scale attacks in the sewers Some family friends need help Right, drop me off at the beach The convertible reached One of the neighbourhoods within the city's outskirts Its clock tower stuck out of a field

Of two-story brick houses Which bordered the sea kisses Penelope waved Amelia waved back and drove off Despite it being a large neighbourhood Penelope traversed the small streets on foot

And eventually reached the beach Someone sat at a single bench Where she would wait for her customer The woman approached with caution Maria Why are you here so early Hey Penn A young casually dressed girl gave her a small smile

Mom had urgent work, so she dropped me off early. Urgent work? It's dangerous out here. She also wanted me to give you this. The girl handed her an envelope. Strange, I usually get paid at the end of the night. Penelope opened the envelope. The moment she did, a familiar, tingling sensation ran through her brain.

I'm sorry for doing this to you. Mother's voice echoed through Penelope's mind. You've probably noticed that in recent days I required your service multiple times Well humans have been tracking my family for months While we can avoid them Life of fear is not one we wish to leave Unlike her siblings Maria is too young

I wouldn't survive the trip through the ocean Well, the one required to reach our new home I've left you a generous sum of money All I require is for you to find a good human orphanage Living in the underwater colony with her kind is too dangerous Oh, one last thing. Make it clear to her. She's never to shift to her true form.

If she is to survive, she must always stay human. Thank you. Penelope shook her head to regain composure. What is it, Penn? You look sad, Maria asked. What did Mom say? Well, she'll be a little late. Oh, so we'll have more time together.

"'It seems. "'Perfect. "'You can finally show me how to play basketball. "'I don't think that'll happen,' Penelope started. "'You promised. "'If we have more time, we can play a human game. "'Those were your words.' "'Penelope put a hand on the little girl's shoulder.

"'Mary, your mother isn't coming back to pick you up. "'What do you mean, Penn? "'She's busy and Dad'll come.' No. You see, well, spit it out already. The girl was visibly worried. Your family have left the city and they aren't coming back. But why? They wouldn't leave me. You must have misunderstood or something. A giant monster was heading towards Santa Bessia's coast. Your family went to fight it off. A monster? Why can't they come back afterwards?

It's really powerful and it will be required. quiet time. In a few years, they'll come back. A few years? How few? Not more than ten. Ten. Maria widened her eyes. Are you lying to me? I'd never lie to you. Penelope smiled. No, no, no, no. The girl shook her head in denial. We'll stop by a few stores along the way. buy you some clothes and I'll drop you off at an orphanage. An orphanage? As in human orphanage, why not the colony? The monster is a danger.

You must promise me to stay away from the water. Stay away from the water? With a loud shout, Maria got up. It's what your mother wanted. Why can't I stay with you? It won't be safer. I'm sorry, Maria. This isn't fair.

This... Penelope covered her mouth with a palm. She could hear a speeding car engine in the distance. Mary, we're going to have to part here. Humans are coming. She released the girl. Where should I go? Follow my friend. He'll take you to a safe location.

Humans can't detect you as long as you're close to him. Your friend, who is... Maria jumped back as she felt something rob against her foot. A black and grey cat calmly watched her. Follow Mr. Dark. I'll be with you soon. Penelope smiled at the girl. She turned to her cat and made a strange noise with her mouth. The cat turned around and moved down the shoreline.

He waited for the little girl to start following and ran. They disappeared into the night. Listening to the car doors open, Penelope casually sat on the bench. Oh, what have we here? light illuminated her kind of late to be at the beach ain't it a tall woman wearing ballistic armor held an automatic rifle i can say the same penelope confidently answered what are you doing out here all by yourselves wearing a leather jacket a well-built man joined his colleague attached to his collar three small wooden crosses emitted a sweet smell unlike the woman the only visible weapon was a holstered handgun on the his belt. The hunters both had flashlights mounted on their foreheads. What do you two clowns want? Penelope watched the seat. No need to be our style. Using one finger, the man gently moved his colleagues' rifle down.

Let me handle this. Weapons still in hands, the woman nodded and took a few steps back. Um, Detective Rivera, might have I sit down? In fact, I didn't. I didn't. I'd have a sit down. In fact, I do. A fake smile creeped onto his face. If it makes you feel safe, I'm just wondering, why's the rest of your family? No idea what you're on about. We've had an eye on this place. We know you, mermaids gather here. Is that so? Maybe you should mind your own business, all four of you. The man looks surprised. Ten meters away, I see you too. Penelope hadn't moved her eyes from the sea. Well, well, didn't know mermaids had eyes in the back of their heads.

Rivera took a step back. You don't seem much too afraid of being shot, meaning you're either fast or bullets don't affect you all that much. You sure like to talk. Penelope stood up. Let's make a deal. All of you run away and you get to live. Rivera shook his head.

always the same routine, starting overconfident, and in death. I can say the same. Always those night vision goggles and flashlights. Problem is, they're powered by electricity. The flashlights went out. The two men hiding behind the bench were puzzled as their night vision goggles turned on. Being able to see in the dark, Penelope took a swing at Rivera. To her surprise, he locked eyes with her, and jumped eyes with her, and jumping.

back with inhuman speed. Being able to see in the dark, Penelope took a swing at Rivera. To her surprise, he locked eyes with her and jumped back with inhuman speed. While his colleague couldn't see, she could hear. Judgingly by the footsteps, she aimed her rifle at Penelope. Rivera squinted his eyes in surprise as Penelope's shadow extended towards the woman, quickly crawled up and wrapped itself around her body. In a swift motion, it rapidly constricted, crushing her body.

He'd taken the opportunity to distance himself from the horror show. His other two colleagues opened fire. A few bullets hit Penelope. Without flinching, she leaped over the bench, slamming into one of them. With a loud grunt, she sent her hand into his chest. Shattered ribs and torn muscles scattered everywhere as she pulled her fist back, forming a sharp spike her shadow detached from the ground and stabbed the second man through the heart it wiggled and hurled the body at Rivera who dodged it with ease the shadow flattened itself

back on the ground and slithered towards him becoming thinner and thinner as it chased him it stopped and retracted back to penelope he jumped back in his car which had its engine on eyes entirely black Penelope tore a large piece of the bench and hurled it at the car denting it, shattering the back window. Once out of range, she ran.

The crimson convertible entered the abandoned parking lot where Penelope had been hiding. It slowed down so she could jump in and then sped off. Another attack. Amelia glanced at the bullet holes on her sister's body. Girls with Simon.

He'll take her to the orphanage. "'Thanks, sis. What about—' "'Mr. Dark, the black and grey cat, purred from under the seat. "'Oh, there he is.' "'Penelope let out a sigh of relief. "'Thanks for the help, Kitty.' "'She lifted and hugged the animal. "'How many were there?'

"'Four.' "'Four? And they hit you?' "'One caught me by surprise. "'He could see in the dark and possessed in human speech. Oh, must be these new enhanced soldiers. Yeah, two accompanied a group of armed humans, jumped me in the sewers earlier. You said it was a small-scale attack? Well, it turns out there were more.

The metal skin and armour sure is hard to rip through. Metal skin? Yeah, they look more machine than human. The one that attacked me wore civilian clothes. Those humans keep coming up with new surprises. Amelia chuckled. What do you mean, Sitz? The exceptions.

The special ones. It can be anything. Maybe one of our kind decided to change sides. Some strange splice mutant. Cyborgs are a biologically engineered virus. Who knows? These hunters keep on popping up. But in the end, they're all the same.

Monsters searching for an excuse to kill. Why didn't you tell me about this earlier? I did. Always expect the worst and be ready for surprises. This sucks. Penelope rubbed foreheads with Mr. Dark. She shut her eyes. Sis, I don't feel too well.

The car pulled over to the side of the road. What is it? Amelia put a hand on her sister's shoulder. Four mortals attack me. I let one live. It must die. Penelope didn't even blink. How much did you use your shadow?

Twice this week. Relax. You're not in any danger. It's over. No need to fight anymore. Amelia cautiously removed Mr. Dark from her sister's lap. They attacked. They deserve to suffer.

I want to touch its beating heart. Snap out of it. Amelia slapped her sister. Sorry, sorry. I'm sorry. Penelope readjusted her neck. I can't retract it. She gritted her teeth

Remember the movie we watched a week ago? What? The one with a talking dog? Yes, I think I remember. It was fun, wasn't it? Yeah, it was. You remember how the barking in one of the scenes scared Mr. Dark, and he fell in the popcorn?

Right, Penelope giggled. Poor Mr. Dark had to clean his fur from the butter. The giggle turned to laughter, and her eyes returned to gnaw. Feeling better? Thanks, sis. I do feel better. Work can wait tonight. Want to go home? Amelia returned Mr. Dark to her sister.

I'd like that. But now he woke up at sunset the next night. With the click of a button, the old radio on the bedside table played jazz music. Mr. Dark jumped off the bed as she stood up. Thrown on the floor, her clothes from the previous night were covered in holes. She took one of the two sets of identical clothing from her wardrobe and dressed herself. Once ready, she prepared a bowl of cereal and a separate smaller bowl with cat food. Mr. Dark found his way to the bowl and shoved his head inside.

Sitting on the bed, she calmly ate with her eyes closed. Halfway through breakfast, an envelope slid under her door. She quickly retrieved it and returned to the previous position. Hello, Penelope. Accompanied by the tingling sensation, A deep, familiar voice spoke in her mind. Humans have adopted a member of the Becker's family. One of the Beckers will attempt to retrieve them at midnight,

and has asked for your assistance. The details will be added to your memories. Penelope blinked. Well, well, what a surprise. Mr. Dark straightened his ears and locked eyes with her. Oh, my little kitten, we'll be returning to the same neighbourhood as yesterday. If we're lucky, we might get a rematch. She exited her secluded layer and locked the reinforced door.

Standing among piles of crates, multiple holes in the warehouse's ceiling cast moonlight, partly illuminating the interior. Nice place you've got. A voice echoed through the building. I might be getting that rematch earlier. Penelope recognized it. Detective Rivera walked out from behind one of the many rusty, support these.

Did you sleep well? Despite being quite the distance away, he didn't need to shout due to the echo. Like a baby, what are you doing all the way over there? Don't you want to come closer so I can hear you better? Penelope's eyes turn pure black. Oh, thanks.

I like it over here. He sat down. Since you like to talk so much, I'm curious. How'd you find you? me. You're not the only one who has a furry little helper. Well, in my case, feathery. You're alone. Why? Others would slow me down. Who's the woman who dropped you off here last night? Don't know who you're talking about? Of course you don't. He reached into his coat.

Penelope squinted her eyes as he drew a grey stick. You abominations don't deserve to exist. His casual demeanour turned to a condescending tone. All you do is hurt the innocent. You show no remorse. Splinter slew everywhere as Penelope sunk her fingers into a nearby crate. Lifting it over her head, the planks composing it bent in, and she hurled it towards Rivera. The man quickly rolled to a standing position, finding himself behind a supporting beam. The crate flew by and shattered into the wall. With a single pop, he folded the stick. Emitting bright light, it regained its previous straight form.

Penelope paused for a moment. A question expression quickly returned to an emotionless, deadpaned step. They aren't powered by electricity. Lighting a second stick, the man revealed himself. Do you think I'm scared of a little light? Effortlessly, Penelope leaped over a few crates. closing in on him. The moment she landed, a shadow twitched and detached from the floor.

Forming a long appendage, it struck at the man as if it were a snake. Rivera jumped over the tentacle, which left a deep hole in the floor. Leaving the glowing sticks behind, he quickly crawled behind more crates. So you decided to hide? Penelope searched the surroundings with her eyes. A revolver in hand, the man appeared at the far corner of the warehouse. With a single shot, Penelope's forearm burst into pieces, leaving bone and tiny bits of flesh to hold her arm together. While his bullets didn't seem to contain any special material, the mere size had the power to dismember.

Her shadow widened in front of her, catching two more bullets with ease. It retracted, and she quickly hid behind a support beam. five meters Rivera's voice, whatever that sentient liquid is, it has a limited range. He threw a third glowing stick. All of the light banished

most natural shadows in the warehouse. A black liquid, which had slowly been filling Penelope's wound, disintegrated the second more light appeared. She felt her muscles weakened, eliminating the option to punch through a wall. The only way out of her body, into the night was the warehouse's exit.

A shadow slithered to one of the glowing sticks, wrapped itself around it and launched it out of a window. Blood splattered across the floor as a bullet burst through a crate and entered her back. It exited out of her shoulder and left a dent in one of the support beams. Each time Rivera fired his revolver, his entire arm sprung back due to the massive recoil. Penelope's shadow retracted to its idle position.

Dodging more shots, Penelope hid behind another support-meet. She could hear him jumping from crate to crate, still keeping his distance. Trying to dispose of more sources of light will give up her position. I watched you very closely last night. Rivera shouted. Each time you manipulated your shadow, your body went idle. As long as it's moving, you can't dodge attacks. The man's eyes constantly watched the exit, and each light sticks location, waiting for her to come out of hiding. Hidden behind a few crates, the light began to move.

With a satisfied grin on his face, he fired. The light stopped moving. Not getting too close, he hopped from crate to crate to find an angle from which he could see better. Appearing from the opposite direction, Penelope grabbed him by the wrist. with her good hand. Applying pressure, she forced the revolver out of his hand. Why, how can you be in two places? He attempted to push her back. Light stick in his mouth, Mr. Dark ran past them towards the exit. As the light became dimmer, bone being crushed sounded from Rivera's wrist.

Ah, assistance needed, the man shouted. A large owl flew in through. one of the holes in the ceiling and sunk its claws into Mr. Dark, stopping him from removing the last stick. Penelope's shadow crawled up, Rivera, but stopped midway. An invisible force around him was fighting back. Despite not being entirely engulfed, the shadow tightened, crushing both his legs and covering Penelope in his blood. The two of them fell off the crate and collided with the floor. Penelope gritted her teeth as vapor appeared. Sharp pain running through her body, the shadow retracted. She loosened her grip and jumped back.

Rivera's blood let out a hiss as it tore through her clothing. She ripped them off, revealing burns where his glossy blood had been. Blood ate through the dropped cloth, along with bits of the floor. Ignoring him, Penelope bolted towards the animals. The owl spotted her in time to leave her cat and flew away. still standing, but covered in blood, Mr. Dark hobbled to the woman. She quickly lifted him and glanced at her enemy. Despite having crushed legs, he was up and running.

Way too fast for a crippled person, and he exited the warehouse. Thanks for the help, Mr. Dark. Penelope cradled her cat. If this guy wasn't an over-covid and chatterbox and brought back up, both of us would be dead. It's not safe here anymore. we need to run. I'm not new to the internet,

nor am I new to Reddit or any other social media. I just tend to visit, read, then go about my day. I learned in the earlier years of being online to never engage in fights, but I do spend the majority of my time looking things up and doing lots of reading. Much of that reading isn't spent on anything supernatural, but now I'm at a loss. I'm currently working security in Centre City That's downtown Philly for people who are wandering

The reason I'm posting here now is that I've encountered an event that's kind of left me shaken I can't tell you exactly where this occurred because I still work there And the last thing I need is a bunch of urban explorers coming to this place at night And then I'd have to chase you all off And ain't nobody got time for that Anyway, I've looked online and I can't find anything related to what I'm looking into So, I'll just tell the story and maybe you can come up with something.

A few nights ago I showed up to one of the many construction sites downtown to relieve my friend and take over for the night. My normal duties are to check in with him, see what he has to report, which is usually nothing, and then we walk the grounds for a few minutes. Then I go to the security room to start checking the cameras. In today's world, a lot of the cameras are motion sensitive

and require little monitoring, except to see things in the distance and zoom in on what they may or may not be and if they're trouble. I'm armed just in case I have to scare off someone or hold them until the police arrive. But with the rona, scaring the smart folks, only the eages come out at night

to places like this to explore or skateboard or something silly like that. So on this particular night after my friend left I began to make my rounds and check things out. I went down to one of the lower levels and I noticed an odd set of bricks sitting in the middle of the floor. At first I wasn't going to worry about it because this site was under reconstruction, but the bricks didn't match any of the bricks or more to the construction crews were using.

They were more like those red bricks down by the old city. There were about four of them, spaced evenly, two bricks on the ground, another brick atop the other. Thinking they were just keepsakes or whatever from the crew, I left them there and continued my rounds. It was about two hours or so later when I got the chime of one of the security cameras. I put my phone down and looked up at the camera. The girl was walking about the sight with her hands in her pockets.

I was going to get on the horn to tell her this place was off limits and dangerous, and that she needed to go home. But instead I just watched her. She was walking with purpose, like she knew exactly where she was going and was in absolutely no hurry. I zoomed in close to get a good look. She's a black girl, pretty with brownish skin, and kind of looked like the old girl from Black Panther, Nakia.

Yeah, Lupita Nyonga, that chick. It looked kind of like she was whistling something. She was wearing some biker shorts and a t-shirt, like she wasn't carrying anything that I could see. She went right to the bricks on the level I'd been at earlier. She didn't approach them right away. She just stood there for a moment, like she was examining them. her head was tilting sideways where she rubbed her chin

and she reached into the side pocket of her shorts and pulled out what looked like a phone she took some pictures walk to the side of the building and jumped off well i hit the alarm immediately and began to dial 9-1-1 as i rushed to the site of where she'd jumped as i explained to the police what happened i ran to the site to look over the ledge to see where she'd fallen to. Jumping from this side of the sight led to a straight plummet about three stories high. She might not have died, but she damn sure

broke something. But when I got there, there wasn't a body. There was no blood or anything. She was just gone. I could hear the sirens, so I headed back to the booth, and that's when I noticed that there were now eight more bricks on the pile.

I'd come back later to check on that, but for now the cops were here. Without a body to show them, they thought maybe I'd fallen asleep and thought I'd seen something. But then I remember the cameras. I reround the feed and watched the recording and sure enough there she was. The cops saw the video too. They saw the girl and they saw her jump.

They took a copy and told me to report anything like that to them if she came back or anyone else did. I watched the video hard for the rest of the night. I'm not afraid to admit I was shaken. There ain't some shit you see all the time. well i forgot about the bricks until the next day and so over the course of the next few nights i watched as this series of bricks continued to grow i had no idea how they were appearing and since there were only three of us working these shifts we each took turns recording the amount that would appear and let the others know my friend told me that he and the other co-worker tried to push and kick them over but they wouldn't budge neither of them had seen the girl and since the construction was halted for a few days we knew it wasn't the workers doing it. So, on the night, something did happen. I mean, it was crazy.

I was looking up ancient bricks and ghost bricks, all types of damn bricks online to see if there was anything I could find. Maybe this place was on a burial ground or something. One site I found had a great way of explaining the thing about burial grounds and hauntings. The whole world is a burial ground. Things have been dying since they've been living. The whole world is haunted. So, that wasn't it.

So I just watched the bricks again while I searched. That's when I noticed it looked like it was forming some type of arch. As they stat themselves, they looked like they were growing into a door of something. I was tempted to call the cops again, but the bricks building themselves were never recorded. Only the movement of people ever caused the alarm. So I got the idea to look up. supernatural arches and a bunch of YouTube clips about doors and passages to the other side came up. Then I realized that some crazy shit from someplace else was trying to build a door here,

and it was almost finished. Might have maybe eight or ten more bricks to go. I went to them and looked for something I could use to stop whatever the hell it was from coming over. Now look, I'm an atheist, still am, but I don't know everything. I don't know how to stop these bricks from forming that arch or no tool I used words so I decided to put something between both sides to stop them from completing the arch

I took some rebar and put it in place and hoped that would be enough I looked up the construction company's number and left a message on their emergency line it was late so I didn't expect anyone to show up I just hope the rebar would last until and that's when I realized my fucking up. I had just completed the art. When trying to stop it, I completed the damn thing. I sat down in my chair shaking. I just watched the camera feed as I realized what I'd done. I was too scared to leave

since I'd have to walk right by that place. I'd look at my gun and check the ammo. I wasn't sure what good it would be against something that could build a door from another dimension, but I had no doubt I was now on the front line. I drank my soda as my body shook, and I watched the camera, hoping nothing would happen until morning. Maybe they could blow the floor out from underneath it or something. Then I noticed the girl was back. The alert chimed.

She was back again and walking normally, still whistling. This time she had on a pair of workout gloves, biker shorts, and a tight-fitting tea, and an expensive looking pair of kicks. I watched as she approached the bricks and looked them over. And she took the rebar and knocked it out of the place I'd had it. Oh, you can't believe the relief I had when she did that. I had no idea who she was or why she was so into that damn thing, but I didn't feel like peeing my pants anymore.

But that wasn't the end of it. She patted the bricks and then began to pace around them and do stretches and stuff, like she was getting ready for something. She knew something that was going down. But what? How was she going to stop whatever was about to happen? She had no weapons and no offence. She was maybe 5'8, 5.9, about a buck 60.

I mean, she was in shape, but I think I could have taken her easy. And then, for the first time, on camera, Ricks appeared and continued to form the arch. As she backed away, I noticed her smile a bit. She moved away from the arch in a straight line, counting up paces. Then she knelt in the stances runners do when they race. She didn't move for like 30 minutes. Her head down, and she held the running position as the bricks began to close the arch.

I caught the gun without thinking, but I was still too scared to move. Sorry, ladies, but she was on her own. I had a feeling manning up was going to get me dead real quick. Sweat was pouring down my face as the last brick appeared and clicked into place. I held my breath as I watched her. Her head still down, and then I switched to the arch. Something was happening. Bricks did a 180 and something black began to form in the centre.

When I say black, I mean black. It was so black it was like it had swallowed the light in the immediate area, and still she didn't move. Her head was still down, And then something, I don't know, some old freaky shit, some lovecraft, Edgar Allan horror shit started coming out of that arch. I swear I wanted to turn my head and honestly I don't know why I'm not insane, but must be what she did to me later. But anyway, this thing like a man mixed with a bat made of black and grey jello with an elephant face stepped from the arch and it noticed her. Legit, it saw her, and then it just stopped.

He, it would ever. Looked like it was in the midst of growling or yawning like a newborn. It just stopped. Her head popped up, and I swear her eyes were on fire. Not flames coming out, but like the light fire makes. Well, then her skin, the veins beneath were like lava flows. And she smiled again. Oh, I'm not even going to lie.

Demon dude scared the shit out of me, but the look in her eyes, the smile she made, and the way homie just stopped moving had me feeling bad for it. She ran at the dude so quick, I mean so, so, so quick. She jumped up into the dude's face. He was at least a good seven or eight feet tall, and her hand was glowing, and she just mugged old boy. Took him down. I mean, she smashed him. his head into the ground so hard I felt it in the booth it looked like it tried to fight back

or at least it wanted to she sizzled its arm off then she took a wing oh the stench was so bad it was like burning rubber and fresh dog shit it screamed a scream i never want to hear ever again in eternity i mean ever she stood up and looked at it then at the arch it mouths something at her but its face was so mangled and burned. But she didn't kill it. She took her finger as it tried to back away. I know that if she wasn't here, that thing would have eaten me or killed me or whatever.

But right now I felt bad. I felt bad for a demon. A thing. She carved something into its jello chest and then put her hand over it. A thing howled again. It was almost like torture. Then she dragged it back to the arch

and tossed it back in. All the body parts that she'd sizzled off and any blood or whatever it had for blood vanished when it went back through. She knocked over the arch and placed her hands on the ground. The bricks vanished and then she stood.

And she looked up at the cameras and did a duck face with double piece size. Well, that shit put me over the top. I had to be dreaming all of this. Maybe it was on a bend or something. when I turned from the cameras to collect my thoughts. She was knocking on the door to the security booth. Are you okay in there?

She said, looking down at me. I had long since forgotten about the gun. I just nodded as she spoke. Good. Just so you know you might want to let those pants air out or at least wash them before the next shift. She added, pointing at my pants. I'd wet myself and hadn't even realized it.

Please, don't care. me, was all I could say. Ah, you're good. That thing didn't even want to kill you. He didn't even know you existed. You probably would have got yourself killed trying to kill it, though. Hey, open up. Got some bad news and good news for you.

Please, don't, I begged. Come on, dude. You saw what I can do. I don't want to damage your property, but since you were here, things like that are so consens you now. I need you to not get dead, is that okay? Well, I nodded and let her in, fully expecting to die. But she held me up and stopped my shaking.

I'm going to make sure things like that never bother you again, okay? I nodded as she lifted up my sleeve. Her eyes turned that fiery amber as she touched my shoulder. I felt a quick burning sensation, and then it passed. We're all done. You might want to take the rest of the night off, though, she said. You're scary as fuck, you know that. I told her with false bravado, adding,

What the hell was that? When Escape B, I was hired to send back. Don't worry about it anymore. You're good now. See you. And then she was gone. Jumped off the side again. I downloaded the video for my own record.

I mean, this happened. But whatever she put on my arm must be keeping me from going nuts. I haven't had anything like that happened to me again. So has anyone else ever seen or experienced anything like that? What was she? Is this some Philly urban legend about some black chick running around, Philly beating the shit out of things not from here? Does Philly have urban legends?

Hit me up, please. I kind of don't want to know, but then again I do. In my hometown, we don't swim. Not a single man, woman or child knows even the first. faintest movement to remain buoyant in the water. Now, some of you might assume that this is because we're inland or not near to any bodies of water. I don't blame you for making this assumption. However, it's incorrect. No one in my hometown swims because from the moment we touch the water, we attract something. It comes mercilessly and without fail, stirring up the muddy waters of lakes,

rivers and oceans, hauling itself across the mud toward tents camp besides even the most peaceful lagoons. Even bathing is dangerous, for it's been known to sneak its way through pipes. Now, of course, this sounds ridiculous. When my parents first told me, I outright laughed in their faces. It was probably the worst, most poorly thought-up excuse for why I couldn't go swimming or have a shower longer than three minutes. At the time, however, I couldn't really go against their wishes, and I wasn't able to simply say, you're lying, without then disagreeing,

so until last night I had never been swimming. You see, it's been years now since I left my hometown, and last night I got invited to a pool party, the first one I'd ever been to. I did mention that I couldn't swim, of course, though, negating the reason why I couldn't swim, and was reassured that I could stay in the shallow end, which is exactly what I did. The water was brilliant, temperate but not freezing, clean and generally nice to be in. A friend taught me to float on my back, and I found myself just happy to lay there in the water with my eyes closed.

Then I felt something brush against my legs so lightly, I could barely tell it was there at all. For a moment I remembered the story my parents had told me, but dismissed the idea, assuming rationally that perhaps another swimmer had just moved past me. Upon opening my eyes, I saw that no one was around me. In fact, I drifted to the deeper end of the pool. I felt a rush of panic as I realized I couldn't touch the bottom anymore

and struggled to stay calm enough to tread water or float. Now, let me tell you, I had thought that I was fine, that I was doing pretty okay, keeping myself upright, and that I could make it to the edge, which was only a few feet away. But that's what drowning feels like. You take in a couple of accidental breaths of water. Your arms and legs feel heavy, but you still don't quite realize what's happening. How could it be happening when you're so close to safety?

Nonetheless, within moments I was going under, and there was a pressure on my leg, but I barely noticed. From beneath the water the muffled sound of music was reaching my ears, and the distorted lights from above were unbelievably pretty. Then a hand reached down and took hold of my arm, pulling me back to the surface. In a days I looked up to see a friend and another guy pulling me out of the water. written on their faces was pure horror I could see they were shouting as they dragged me over to the side of the pool but I couldn't hear what they were saying Out of the corner of my eye I could see people running frantically

though it couldn't at first work out why everyone was so upset when the last part of me was pulled from the water my senses came back to me instantly and like a balloon popping on glass hay and exploded up my body from my legs On my left side, the pain originated from about midway up my calf muscle, while on the right side it came from about midway up my thigh. Sounds that had been subdued were now true and clear, and the sound of my own screaming was the loudest. I was in agony. How had I not felt this in the water?

As I tried to sit up, others around me held me down, telling me to be still with the grim expressions they wore. only made me more desperate to see. Frantically, I struggled to see my legs. I had to know why they hurt so much. I should have listened when I was told not to look. When I did, I thought that my right leg was stripped of flesh cleaned down to the bone. Not a strand of muscle, tendon or nerve remained.

The remaining bones were just barely held together at the joints. A couple of my toes I noticed had been, entirely detached. The flesh at the halfway point up, my thigh was torn viciously and soaked in blood, making it look like soggy fabric. My left leg wasn't in any better

state, but at least it was only carved down instead of the whole way. As someone tried to bandage my legs, I passed out. When I awoke I was in hospital with two neatly wrapped stumps and a box of chocolates beside my bed.

It was explained to me that while I was in the water something damaged my legs. The fish was suspected some sort of barbed wire may have gotten wrapped around my legs and stripped the flesh when I was saved from drowning. And no such wire was actually found once the pool was drained. My friend told me that no one had noticed I was gone until blood started flooding the water and then everyone scrambled to save me. What I believe happened is that Whatever comes after the people in my hometown had attacked me, pull me down and somehow numb my legs as it fed.

Maybe that was what brushed against me. Maybe that was the pressure I'd felt. If my friends hadn't noticed me, I'm sure I would have died, either from drowning or bleeding out. What I can't work out now is how it got into the pool or why no one else seemed to have seen it. It just makes me wonder, if it's something that's always in the water.

All water. Just invisible and selective. Fresh meat by corpse child. You know, you still laugh at the idea of being a vegetarian. The idea of purposefully not eating meat used to sound so dumb to me. I mean, yeah, healthy lifestyle and all. And yes, I am aware that some people actually can't eat meat because of an inability to digest it.

But come on, how could you say no to a nice full rack of baby-back ribs or a quarter-pound of New York-style steak, right? Well, I guess the joke's on me now. After what happened, I can't think of any of that without wanting to puke. I'm going to put this out there now. If you're a feigned of heart or weak of stomach, do not read this. Let me also go ahead and say that, no, I'm not talking about Mickey D's either

Say what you're on about their food Not being actual meat or whatever I can guarantee you Whatever it is made of It's far less horrific than what I saw At a place I used to work at Mr. Pigsley's diner Home of delicious meat

Happy bellies and having a snort and good time Those words The big, bold red words Plasted next to that smiling fat-assed pig with a 50-style football jacket and haircut will always haunt my nightmares. The place itself was one of those that was made to resemble an old-timey diner

from the 50s and 60s. Black and white-tiled floor, vintage photos from car shows, old stuntmen, or shots of Elvis Presley as well as different antiques on display. The place even had an actual jukebox, coin-operated with actual CDs instead of the touchscreen ones you see nowadays.

In the middle of the dining area was where the bar was. During the day, until about six or so, it was an ice cream bar, with the barley sodas being brought out later on in the evenings. Remember how you could bring your kid up to the bar on a Friday afternoon for a little oinkers hour, where the ice cream was handmade right in front of them, and they got whatever flavor and toppings they wanted,

and however much of it they wanted for free. Aside from this, they also had the piglet wall of fame, where the Rugrats would have pictures taken of them in little pig masks with the mascot, Mr. Pigsley, standing beside them as they scoffed down a three-ounce plate of bull pork. Well, of course, the kids loved it, and the parents loved it too for how dirt cheap the food was. We're talking $15 tops for a large-sized barbecue plate with two large sides with a drink. A sale of this to say that the place was very family-oriented, or particularly when it came to bring in the kids.

My family actually used to take me and my brother André when we were little kids, and like I said, with all the other kids, we too had more than our fair share of our little oinker hours on Fridays to kick off the weekend and had our pictures added to the Wall of Fame, which were all gone now after what happened.

Now, take that and fast forward almost a year ago. I'm 21 and having just moved out of my parents' house with no degree or any other job experience, and I needed to have a way to make rent for my apartment. You can imagine how difficult a decision it was for me to choose Mr. Pigsley's diner as my go-to. I was hired almost on the spot after I put in an application to be a cook.

Well, the pay for the job I'd be doing admittedly wasn't quite as bad as I was expecting, $11 an hour, 40 hours a week. Of course, being that it was strictly second shift, This meant long, exhausting night slaving in the kitchen, and then closing the kitchen. It was rough, but I had to do it. After about a month or two, I had just about gotten used to it. Actually, it wasn't long after that that I was getting my first raise to 1175.

I'd also managed to get to a point, usually because the other kitchen staff were out back taking a smoke, but I was actually able to handle work in most areas of the kitchen alone. In other words, I'd gotten pretty good at my job pretty quickly. One of my duties, unfortunately, was washing any remaining dishes at night when we closed. It sucked, mostly because of the fact that it was always the grill utensils and shit that I got stuck washing. You know, the shit that it would be the dirtiest. And we had to wait until we were closed for the night to wash them. Because of this, and because the shift manager, Trish, usually dragged her feet with her part.

or making sure everything is darn right. As well as the fact that closing shifts only had two people around to shut the place down for the night, we aren't usually getting out of there until about one or one-thirty in the morning every night. Well, it's because of this that things would take a weird turn. Funny enough, I almost didn't even notice it. It was a Friday night, which of course meant

we'd been slammed all day with business and I was beyond tired and ready to be done with the place for the night. I was in the sink room, located a little ways behind the kitchen and grill area, next to the freezer and dry stock, washing the dishes, as best I could anyway. Well, Trish finished up with the money. Since my phone was dead, I couldn't listen to music or podcasts while I wash the dishes like I usually did. And that's when I heard it. It was very faint, and again I almost didn't hear it.

It almost sounded like a faint groaning noise. But being exhausted and figuring that it was just, the electrical home of the freezer, I shook it off and continued. It was when I was just about finished with the dishes, though, and I heard it again, louder this time. Listening a little harder, I noticed that it was indeed coming from the freezer. I pressed my ear to the door, and I could hear it much louder now. Concentrating, I thought I could hear the sounds of muffled sobbing from inside.

I tried pulling the handle to open the freezer door, I only to find it locked. "'Hm, weird,' I thought. "'Why is the freezer locked?' "'I was never told before that the freezer was supposed to be locked at night. "'Well, maybe it's to keep the meat fresh, keep everything cold. "'This didn't make much sense to me, "'but I ended up having to just go with it

"'when I heard Trish calling for me, "'telling me she was ready to go home. "'I pretty much immediately forgot all about it "'until the next night, "'close in the kitchen when I heard it again. "'Right last time the freezer. door was locked and inside I could hear a very faint sound like someone groaning. Well, it was louder this time, a lot louder.

I also noticed this time that it seemed like it would randomly let out sharp bursts of crying or wailing. At one point I thought I could hear a shrill sort of screaming noise as well. What the? Started knocking on the freezer door. Hello, hey, is someone in there? Nothing. The only response was the continued groaning noises from the other side. I tried knocking again.

Hey, what's going on? I spun around to see Trish standing behind me, looking confused. What the hell are you doing? Have you finished yet? Oh, yeah. I looked at the freezer. Hey, um, is there any particular reason the freezer's locked? She cocked her eyebrow. What do you mean?

I pulled the handle to demonstrate. Her eyes continued looking confused as she then tried to open it herself with the same result. Huh, she said, resigning. That is weird. No, I don't know why the heck they'd have it like this. What's got you so worried about it, though? Well, um, I felt like I could hear something or somebody in there. What do you mean? she asked, looking even more confused now.

I shrugged and chuckled nervously. I don't know. I just kept hearing these weird noises coming from in there. I pressed my ear to the door again, still hearing that faint groaning sound. Hey, do you hear it? Well, still looking skeptical, she then pressed her ear to the door. She stayed like this for a moment before shaking her head. That sounds the same it always has.

At least, same as it has since I've been here. Well, this is an old place, though. the warrant in there must be on the fritz. You sure? I asked, cocking my own eyebrows in confusion. Because it sounds like someone's in there. Oh yeah, besides which, we can't get in anyways. I don't know about you, but I'm kind of like to get out of here and go home

before it's time to open the place back up. She held up her phone, reading almost 1.45 a.m. With that, I gave one last look at the freezer before turning and following trips. But that night I couldn't shrug it off like I'd done before. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop imagining something or someone in the freezer. Moreover, I couldn't stop wondering about what that sound was. Now, obviously I wasn't buying the whole, just the old 40 wiring crap. What the hell were they doing in there?

Whereas it happened, the next day was when the owner, Mr. Pigsley, will be in for one of his little routine visits. he'd usually come around once or twice a month unannounced and just sort of check in you know make sure everyone's doing everything that needs to get done basically a sort of general inspection you know one thing i noticed too was that one of the first things he always did was to check out the freezer naturally i figured if anything was going on in there he'd know right as well as this we were actually slow for the first time that week by the way which made it relatively easy for me to ask him about it first thing when he came in. What do you mean? He asked me, cooking his eyebrow like Trish did. The past two nights, sir, I've been hearing these weird noises coming from the freezer. Whenever I try to go check it out, though, it's always locked.

Is it supposed to be? He frowned. What sort of noises? I don't really know, sir. I replied. admittedly feeling a bit awkward. That sounds like someone's in there. And he stared, frowning at me for a moment

before opening the freezer and walking inside. I followed him. Inside, of course, I heard the droning over the refrigeration systems. In other words, the normal sounds it should have been making in there. And there were boxes labelled, fresh meat, stacked against the walls. Everything was there just the way it was supposed to be. No weird sounds. Nobody else in the freezer.

aside from me and Mr. Pigsley. Well, he said, turning back to me. I don't hear nothing. Well, uh, you look back inside for a moment before saying, okay, nothing except for the fridge wires on their last legs. I reckon I'll have to get that looked at, won't I? He chuckled when he said this, before then saying,

thanks for letting me know. I stood for a moment, confused, before stammering. Yes, sir. sure thing. I then felt the hand of Andy, one of the other grill hands, tipped me on the shoulder, telling me I was needed back in the kitchen. Mr. Pigsley waved his hand dismissively before turning and going back into the freezer. Fridge wires on their last legs. I couldn't take my mind off of how wrong that sounded to me. For one thing, the fridge actually sounded normal. Plus, after taking a peek at the thermostat outside, I saw that, well, at least according to the reading at the

the time, it was working just fine. Secondly, this didn't make sense to me because, if they really were on their last legs, shouldn't even know that and done something long before now. On top of all that, though, was the fact that the big question wasn't even answered. Why the hell was the freezer door locked? Not only this, how was it locked?

There were no bolts or anything on the handle, inside or out. As much as I wanted to shove all of the door, this at Mr. Pigsley until I got an answer. I wouldn't get the opportunity again before he left. That night I wasn't the one to close the kitchen, having agreed to switch shifts with Andy's so he could get a few more hours in. For some reason, he was only scheduled two days that week for five hours each. So this meant I was getting off that night at around 10pm. Because I was still skeptical, or should I say suspicious, about the whole freezer thing, I asked him, as part of the agreement if he'd keep an eye on the freezer and tell me if he noticed anything off about it he agreed

i could tell he thought i was nuts so ten o'clock rolled around i was punching the clock but not before checking the freezer one last time it was unlocked and full of nothing but frozen food i was heading out back to my car when i heard a rustling sound coming from the dumpster looking over i could see the lid pushing up like something was trying to get out I was about to brush it off It was probably just raccoons or maybe a couple of stray cats When I heard what sounded like snorting What the

I was cut off when I then heard a high-pitched squealing noise That almost seemed to echo in the empty parking lots This caused my heart to skip about three or four beats And I had to close my eyes and cover my ears tight This was followed by several loud banging noises coming from inside the dumpster. I watch this continue. Jor slacked, frozen in shock,

until the lid of the dumpster suddenly flew open. For a brief moment, I saw what looked like two pig ears slowly emerged from the dumpster, followed by two dark, empty, marble-looking eyes glinting into the streetlights. That was when I took off like a bat out of hell and bolted back around to the front of the diner

and ran inside. Hey, guys! I shouted, crashing through the front doors. They immediately looked at me, wide-eyed and startled. I struggled to speak, being out of breath. There's something out there. Where? Andy asked. I pointed to the back and said, breathless, and the dumpster.

His face immediately fell into one that said, Oh, you're shitting me here, right. I caught my breath, as Trish asked, it was exactly that I'd seen. I think I'm... I began, remembering those two black, beady eyes glaring at me. I think... He was a pig.

A pig? Trish asked. Her voice completely bewildered now. Andy stared at me for a second before scoffing. Dude, he said, sounding like he was two seconds from busting his gut, laughing in my face. Whatever shit you're on... I'm serious. I shouted, cutting him off.

He just kept looking at me like I was crazy while Trish looked lost. I saw two pig eyes staring at me from the dumpster. I heard it squealing too. Where the hell could it have come from? Trish asked. I mean, there's no farm around here. And he snickered and remarked.

Or maybe the last truck had one that wasn't quite ready yet. Oh, Trish snickered at this too. I was the only one, though, who wasn't finding this funny. Oh damn it, Andy. I'm not screwing around here. I saw a giant pig stared at me in the dumpster.

But he'd just snick it again. I was a giant pig. He then made a surprise face and turned to Trish, say. Hear that, Trish? A mean old monster pig is going to get us, say? Oh!

I cut my hand into a fist, clenching my teeth. I was getting really agitated, really quickly. before I could do or say anything though I heard something coming from the back behind the kitchen near the freezer what Trish asked noticing my attention towards the back of the diner I shushed her before starting towards the freezer listen I whispered it sounded like something something big was dragging its feet across the floor you hear that I watched Trish and Andy cup their ears. Listening closer, I could also hear the sound of someone's muffled bawling in the distance, sounding like their mouth was covered or taped over. I watched as Trish seemed to take notice. What the hell is that? she asked, turning now to look towards the back like I was.

And he just looked at the both of us confused. Now you two, Trish, what are you guys going on? He stopped when he heard the sound of the freezer door. me. And now his eyes were wide. What the fuck? Who's back there? We heard the freezer door shut, still hearing the muffled screaming from behind. And he started towards the back when I shut out my hand stopping him. Wait, what if it's a maniac with a gun or something? And he just pushed past me towards the back. I followed after him with Trish joining behind me. The sounds from the Treesa were louder now, shrill, like someone was being tortured. I could hear what sounded like a young girl, high school age, screaming.

No, please don't, let me go. These were followed by sharp cries of pain that caused the three of us to have to cover our ears. As we were doing this, the sounds both of screaming and the weird squealing were getting louder and louder. I began imagining the thing on the other side to be a sort of mutant be here. hemoth pig monster like Andy had said, with huge muscular arms and gigantic tusks that impale me like a kebab. Finally, Andy ran and got the emergency fire extinguisher and used it to batter the door until we heard something full to the ground, crashing on the other side before shoving the door open. In front of the door was a bunch of the fresh meat boxes that had apparently been propped against

the door to keep it shut. Now knocked over onto the floor of the free. freezer, I saw a few of them had broken open, scattering red, meaty, bloody chunks all across the floor of the freezer. Just for a brief second, I looked closely at a pile of the stuff, and that was all it took to make me start to wretch. There, spilling out of the box was what looked to be a large intestine, coiling out from the severed legs of what looked to be a small child, possibly even an infant. Almost on cue, the smell of a dead body flooded my nose instantly, further causing my stomach to turn over on itself. I wasn't the only one struggling to keep from spilling their stomach

either after seeing this, and he had to cover his mouth and turn away. To her credits, funnily enough, given how she always claimed to hate scary movies in the past when I talked about them. Trish was the only one who wasn't affected by this, at least not as much as me and Andy. She took the lead and went inside. It took another second of pulling ourselves together before me and Andy could follow her though. Inside we could all hear the sounds of screaming and pigs squealing from the far end of the freezer. Slowly the three of us made her way towards the back, towards this sound. Despite what I said earlier about Trish being the most strong, I went out of three of us.

What she saw next made her vomit right there in the freezer where she stood. There in the middle of the floor was a young girl. Couldn't have been a day over 17. Pinned to the floor naked. And on top of her was a giant, hairy, overweight griller of a man wearing what looked like one of those pig's masks you'd see from Party City on Halloween. The pig man stopped, as he must have heard Trish, and reared up from the girl before turning to look at us.

For a second, we all just stood there. Me and Trish both speechless with horror while Andy was the first to speak. Who are you? What the fuck are you doing? He, it, whatever, just stood snorting angrily, like he was rearing up to charge at Andy. Trish ran over to try and help the girl when she was snatched by the throat and hurled into a stander. of meatboxes behind her. I ran to help her up while Andy charged towards the pig man.

Just like Trish, Andy was caught by the throat before being forced to the ground. After helping Trish up, she ran over to help the girl while I tried to help Andy. The pig man had him on the ground, crushing his throat and pressing one knee on his chest, crushing his ribs. And without thinking I heard myself at him, shoving him off of Andy and into the wall to the right of him. and he was wheezing, gasping for air, as I helped into his feet, while Trish rushed her and the girl out of the freezer. Call the police! I shouted to her as she ran out. When I looked to where the pigman had landed, I saw that the mask had fallen off.

Now, against the wall, buck-ass naked, was Mr. Pigsley. What the... Before I could even finish that thought, he looked up at me, glaring, before letting out a deafening squeal and charging at me. In less than a few seconds he was on top of me, ravenously trying to bite at my face like a rabid dog. I tried pushing his face away, which resulted in three of my fingers getting bitten, hard enough to start bleeding and go numb. And he tried wrestling him off of me, by getting him in a chokehold, only to be met by a back hand that sent him into the wall again. Now he was crushing my throat like he had been with Andy.

My vision started blurring when the next thing I knew, I felt Mr. Pigsley's hand released my throat, causing me to grasp for air. Mr. Pigsley was on the ground, staring up at the ceiling, dazed, with Andy holding one of the boxes that he'd used to bash him over the head with. Hey, are you okay? he asked. "'Yeah, yeah,' I groaned, pain still shooting through my hand. "'I could hear Mr. Pigsley groaned as he stirred on the floor. "'I told Andy to stay there and make sure he didn't go anywhere while I went to check up on Trish.

"'Sure enough, Trish and the girl were out front, talking to a couple of police officers. "'I joined them and they asked me where he was. "'I led them back to the freezer where Mr. Pigsley was still writhing on the floor. The officers then took over, leading us back out to the front. By that time, the parking lot was filled with police cars and an ambulance. After having them checked out by the ambulance, the other officers escorted Andy, Trish and the girl home while I was checked out for my hand.

I actually had to be taken to the hospital for it to get stitches. I read a few days after that, upon looking into the contents of the freezer, the mutilated remains of infants, as well as several teenagers had been found with evidence that they were being ground up and processed using the meat grinder

next to the dry stock area in the back. Mr. Pigsley was arrested and tried for kidnapping as they were unable to link him to any of the human remains at the time. He claimed, though, that he had absolutely no idea what was going on, that apparently he was at his house one moment and then lying naked in the freezer the next.

In the end, he was sent him. to three and a half years in a psychiatric facility. The diner was closed down and condemned after that, and a month later, it was cleared out and bulldozed, and it's now serving as a vacant parking lot. I lost all contact with Trish and Andy, as well as anyone else from Mr. Pigsley's diner. Soon after that night,

and got a new job as a sales associate at a thrift store, where I work nowadays. Oh, the pay isn't as much, and the hours are long, sure, but my co-workers are pretty cool. Plus, at least I don't have to work around food anymore. Well, it was sometime last week that I was scrolling around online, just screwing around on my break at work, when I found old articles about local sightings of the pigman.

I clicked on them and read about multiple reports of people, namely teens and or small children, going missing in the dead of night in the town located just next to mine. each time a few witnesses would claim to see a giant creature with the head of a pig and the body of a man lurking around. Of course, these were usually the

tinfoil hat types making these claims so it didn't surprise me that these claims weren't exactly taken seriously by authorities at the time. That said, they never found any suspects nor were the missing persons ever found. But the worst part, the thing that's driven me now to have constant nightmares

was when I looked at the dates of the reports. They were all dated in the early 50s, right around the time that the diner had first opened its doors. All that time, I, as well as God knows, how many others, had been eating children. What's even worse is that for almost a year, I was the one that cooked it and served it to people. This is why I've decided two things.

First, I will never work in another food establishment again. No exceptions. The second is that I'm strictly a vegetarian. It was admittedly a bit hard at first. Like I said, how could you pass up a nice juicy prime rib? But any time I thought about meat of any kind, I can't help but remember what I saw in the freezer that night. 10th of October, 2019.

Today was a good day. recently all the diary entries were either gloomy, angry or downright desperate, but not today. I saw my mom walk again. Just the sight of her shaking, grasping for balance as she covers a distance between her hospital bed to the clothes hanger, no more than a meter away. It brought tears to my eyes. It actually made me cry like the neighbour's baby in the middle of the night. It was genuinely just so amazing. Two weeks ago,

I really thought I'd lost her. When she didn't pick up the phone the whole day, and this thought that something bad had happened to her just crossed my mind. One of this vicious, pulsating image of her dying out, whispering for help while reaching out for the phone that was ringing, ringing my name on the display just a few centimetres away, but impossibly out of range of her paralyzed hands.

When all this was going on in the back of my mind, slowly materializing with every failed call. Every time I would press the green icon and the lion would beep relentlessly, lifelessly. I would feel the rushing fear, the chills. As I was putting down my phone,

the nightmare of her casket going down into the cold ground was gradually seeping into reality. First time I tried dialing her was at noon during my lunch break. Maybe she was at the shop and didn't hear. One hour later, still nothing. Each and every subsequent try became incrementally closer to the previous one, by twenty to three.

The display read eleven fell calls, and I was properly scared. She was getting old, and I know all people forget, and oftentimes put their phones in places they can't hear them, but this is mum. No, not her. So, I just stood up and looked at it. left the office. Gary protested, but, you know, fuck Gary. It seems I won't be seeing his stupid face much in the future anyway. I had to go. If I waited until five, she'd be stuck in rush hour, and if not mother, then I'd be the one having a hard attempt. Thankfully, she lives

close to my workplace. The trip is just 10 to 13 minutes in normal circumstances. Run two red lights and drive well over the limit, it becomes more like four. I saw at least two cameras flash at me, but my wallet's ready. As I got into her building, everything was quiet. There were no ambulances, no worried neighbours. Even her best friend, old manny to Lara, even she wasn't out there in the lobby, gossiping about how much my love life sucks. I think my misfortunes with Tina really amused her, gave her some sort of sick king. But, well, recently, I've been a fan of the F word, so F her too. I won't be hearing her breaking screechy and unbearably annoying voice after I go to China.

I pressed the elevator button, but almost immediately realized it's ancient and slow, so instead I rushed up the stairs to the fourth floor. I flew up and, without as much as a breath, I sprinted directly to my mum's door, which was at the far end of the corridor. I slammed my hand on the bell, and then I started hammering on the door with my fist. Mother! I shouted, much like a madman, as I was hoping she opened the door with perplexed eyes and one of her trademark dishes sizzling in a pot she held in her hands, oblivious to the worry she'd made me experience. My own hand froze, mid-motion, as I focused my senses, flooding my ears

with blood, hoping for a sign that, indeed, she was coming, that she was all right. In that moment, all I could hear was the most terrible sound of all. Nothingness. Complete and suffocating silence. In that instance, it seemed even the multitude of cars jam like sardines in a can outside didn't make as much as a squeal of a clank. In that very moment, I felt truly alone in the same. world. My hands were cold and they were trembling in a way I didn't think possible. I was panicking, out of breath and out of control. It took me what seemed like forever to thread the spare key

into the lock. As the mechanism turned, the most terrible images started going through my mind. I could see my mother, dead on the floor, abundant foam escaping her purple, lifeless lips, her body coloured in a way that no living human is. In my vision, she looked just like poor old Billy who died in the parking lot two years ago. I feared the worst. As I slammed the door open, I resumed shouting, but again, no response. Something was definitely wrong with Mother. With what I can describe as the most sickening and nauseating anticipation I've ever felt.

I went from room to room, searching for the one person I genuinely love in this world. First was the living room, but there was nobody there. Next was her favourite place in the house, a sparkling new kitchen that I got her for a 60th anniversary. I did cost a pretty penny, but the smile on her face was so wide and so bright, truly priceless,

giving a higher purpose to putting up with Gary, the self-righteous asshole. She wasn't there. I gave a sigh of relief in a momentary lapse of logic. She was somewhere in the apartment and I had to find her to help her. Hoping it's not too late

I rushed towards the bedroom passing by the door of the bathroom. It was this very same instance in time that my soul was ripped. Cut to pieces by the sight my eyes had seen. My mother.

She was there. Her head was resting on the floor and her body was half naked. Blue hue had spread throughout her skin. I collapsed, scrambling to make sense of what was there before me, facing, anticipating,

putting my finger on her neck and feeling the faint, resonating pulse of her old, caring heart that had spent far too many beats in my name for my sake. whole being was sinking into a deep, endless hole as I reached out towards her. What if there was nothing? What if?

That's the scariest thing about it at all. About death. What if this was it? No goodbyes. No time to settle what's left behind. If, when I die, I want to at least let people know that I was thinking about it. them in the end what few words crossed my mind before all the words ceased to be before i was no more in that terrible moment of horrible expectations i felt the one and only thing that could once more bring warmth

back to the world i felt her heart barely beating through the coldness of her skin incredible relief unfounded exultation feelings came to me that i never ever felt before I hugged her, giving her some of my own body heats, careful not to push too hard and worse in any fracture she might have. Shaking myself, I called emergency and through tears explained to them the situation. I shouted that they needed to hurry so many times the operator must still be hearing my voice in her nightmares. The ambulance came in what they claim were a mere six minutes, but to me it felt like years. i recalled as i was a child and what me and mum would do together i remembered how happy she was when i held my master's degree in my hand but i really wanted her to stay with me

the paramedics arrived they went through their checklists and i understood nothing is she okay what's going on is she okay i kept on repeating like a broken radio stuck on the last bit of the a set, hopelessly going in a loop. They didn't reply. They were too busy checking her vitals, administering a shot and putting her on a stretcher. I was getting desperate, confused and properly irritated. I was just about to snap, when the more senior of the two paramedics turned to me and explain the situation. She's hypothermic, but that's likely because she fainted and spent around two hours in this state. The underlying cause of the seizure is currently unknown. There's evidence of trauma on her back,

and her left hand might be broken. And again, this is most likely a result of the fall, not the cause. We don't have the equipment here to tell you more. She needs to go to hospital in ASAP. This was so unbelievable, and yet, happening. I could well understand the words the doctor was saying, but he was so to the point,

and talking about how my mother had broken her arm as if it was such a matter-of-fact thing. I just didn't know what to say. Just I knew I would do whatever it would take to make her well again. What's the best place you can take her to? I inquired, knowing full well her insurance wouldn't cover anything besides the neighbourhood clinic. Then again, I'm pretty sure she'd have better chances surviving if you just let her stay on the floor, rather than taking her there. That would be St. Anna, he stated,

without as much as a glint of hesitation in his eyes. Following that were twenty sleepless hours which I spent on a bench in the hospital, craving and only haphazardly receiving information about whatever was going on with Mom. As the new day dawned, so did a sliver of hope. The chief of the cardiology ward, gracing me with his presence.

he explained to me in layman's terms that her arteries were damaged and they had to insert stents in them to keep the blood flowing properly this was all black magic to me but i rejoiced at the part where he said she'd live and recover i didn't manage to write a diary entry that day and as mum really seems to be doing well i finally mustered the courage to write about the events that transpired it all gives black friday a whole new meaning honestly Fingers crossed, I think the worst part is over. So back to today, Gary was his usual self. That is, a cock. He isn't taking well the fact I got chosen to move to the new office in China, but senior staff deemed he was, I quote, irreplaceable.

So yeah, you're stuck, buddy. I hope you rot here, and your fat wife keeps on beating you at night. Oh, and speaking about wives, Things with Tina are just unbearable at this point. We have arguments every day, even when we don't actually see each other. The whole move to Beijing literally takes all my time and attention, and after I'm done with it, well, then we just never see each other again and maybe a divorce from a distance.

Yeah, I know I'm a coward for thinking this, but I really don't want to deal with her right now. I still have to sell my car, get a truck, load of papers prepared and deposited all over town. Obviously my mum requires a lot of attention too. Not that I blame her or anything, just that it's all too much for me right now. I need a break. I hope they have nice places in China. I don't think I'll be getting the chance to even get a good night's sleep until I land there. Definitely not if Tina continues on screeching all the damn time. I make it a point to never come home before ten, just to avoid as much of her as possible.

I had to spend more than an hour at a gas station today, but it beats coming back. Oh, I swear, I feel like she'll knife me in my sleep one of these nights. The way she looks at me, there's this intense hatred oozing out. I think, I think she knows what I did. She must. there's not much I can do right now though everything all my documents

my PC and my bed are in the house we share and she should be happy she'll get to keep it after I'm gone that's enough right I mean I'm not saying my gentleman or whatever but at the end of the day our relationship is over and she gets a house for bearing with my

sorry ass people settle for less anyway I'm dead tired this will be it for today I hope tomorrow goes by fast 11th of October 2019 So

something funny happened As today was Friday I had to go to the higher education degree administration Because it turns out they have a 10-day period to process requests So um Well if I'm to fly to Asia the week after next I really had to make sure my deployment would be verified by that.

I go there, and as usual there's a sizable cue and having no choice whatsoever I take my place at the back. Little by little, we move like rats in a lab. The white light on the ceiling buzzes monotonously,

much like a hundred bees slowly banging their bodies into the glass, dying out in a noisy mess. Step, and then another. But not for long, as the lady at the lady the desk stands up to take a break, the second one within the hour. I noticed the very intrusive smell of sweat coming from this guy, three people in front of me. It makes the air

heavy and elusive. I think how much I hate people like him, people who not only have the indecency to skip a bath, but at the same time are arrogant enough to stand in the queue, in my you. Judging by the balding top of his head, he was probably well in his forties, most likely married. Well, his wife must be happy he won't ever cheat on her. Even a donkey would run away from that stench. My annoyance soon grew into repulsion and then into scorn. My hands curled into fists. My mind was filled with ideas, images of me doing things to that guy, things I dare not say. My breath became heavier. I started to tremble. I was excited and then I was light. My vision failed me, my legs no longer having the strength to prop my body up and

I succumb to an unexpected nauseating fall. Someone caught me on the way down, barely able to prevent my head from hitting the floor. I could hear their voices, the distant yet raucous chanting of the men and women in the hall. Some of them were worried, but I felt, well, most of them were just annoyed. Nobody wanted to deal with a dying man on top of this damn cube. Well, I wasn't really dying. Why did I write that? Whatever. I guess the chronic lack of sleep is starting to take its top. I could hear Tina murmur something in the middle of the night yesterday. It woke me up, and afterwards I just couldn't. whirl myself back to sleep.

I think I'll try the couch tonight. She's given me those looks right now anyway. I'll just ignore her. She never understood why I write a diary anyway. Hey, if you want to reflect on what you do each day, how come you haven't killed yourself yet? She just said this out of the freaking blue. You know what, Tina?

I just can't be bothered at this point. I feel sick and tired out of my mind. So I'm just going to sleep, and hopefully this time around, I won't wake up when you're trying to give me the creeps. 12th of October, 2019. Today was Saturday, and so I could spend some quality time with Mother. The doctor said she's recovering like a young girl, and she certainly looked it. We managed to stroll through the hospital park, and she got better at walking than she used to be. Or perhaps, I just got worse.

At some point, though, she said something weird. Son, you should take it a bit easier. I know I cause you a ton of worries, but still, nothing's more important than your own hell. No mother wants to bury their own boy. What? I exclaimed, surprised by how unexpectedly grim my mother's words were. I mean, look at this huge strand of white hair, coming down the side of your side of your your head. You must be under a lot of stress, that. Morbid chills ran down my spine.

For the love of God, I swear something strange was going on. I'm barely 30, you know I haven't been taking the best care of myself, but I did comb my hair before going out. Perhaps a couple of white hairs here and there, but a strand. No, that was impossible. My ears got deaf with the rushing a drain. Helen, one was speaking words, but none of them were reaching me. I had to find my way to a mirror. What she was saying couldn't be true, but I also wanted to pretend like nothing was happening. Not so long ago her life was hanging by a thread.

I just couldn't trouble her. Sure enough, she proposed we rest on a bench, and I was happy to oblige. I offered I go by her something from the nearest coffee shop and left her there. I rushed, running to the shop where I hoped I'd find a toilet, one that was bound to have a mirror on the wall. Storming in, I felt embarrassed as people turned their heads towards me, but my vexation was stronger than all else. I had to know. I went to the cashier and asked her if they had a bathroom. She looked at me with dread, her own hand trembling on its way to her open mouth.

It was as if she saw something truly terrified. What is going on with me? No words escaped her petrified expression, but still, she signed with her quivering eyes towards the right. I wasted no moments. I really had to know. I had to see the extent of the damage. I felt this disgusting metallic taste in my mouth as I opened the door.

For an instance, I presume my cardiovascular system had given up. and my blood was gushing all out on the inside. Now, the mirror within sight, each and every breath felt harder, heavier. I had to look, but I was afraid because I knew that something was off. Something was really wrong with me. I was sweating profusely.

My vision was blurry. I was confused. Not knowing what sensation to attribute to the frighten, what to the ailment that had befallen me. I gathered my courage, my courage and my strength. And I looked. The man in front of me, it just couldn't be me. It wasn't a strand that was white.

My whole hair had lost its colour, as if I'd bleached it. Even my hair do. It wasn't what I remembered it to be. I looked so old. My eyes, they were red, deep crimson red. dripping with sanguine tears and fear. I ran out, not caring or able to think about what the people in the cafe considered me to be. In fact, I hope they saw me as a lunatic, a madman, because, well, then I'd be fine.

Yeah, I'd drink up my meds, stay tucked inside the no-hand's jacket and emerge out of it, a sane, healthy man. But if they saw what I saw, then... I just don't know. I tremble at the thought. Terrorizes me ever since. I race towards Mother, a jumbled mess of thoughts and words spinning in my head, vertigo ransacking my afflicted mind.

What was I to tell her? What explanation could I provide for the way I looked when I knew nothing myself? I'd paced no more than 20 metres when I heard this bone-rattling crack coming out of my right knee. Debilitating pain and terror followed soon, clenching and grasping at my very core.

No, no, I couldn't let her see me. I had to somehow manage to find my way back to the car. There, I'd sit and collect myself. There, I'd pick up the phone and call the hospital. They'd take care of mum. She'd gone through too much and come out on top. I couldn't throw all that away. I was either crazy or I was dying, and I had to protect her from myself.

Run! I had to run before this, what I hoped was a fit of madness. Overpower my fading conscience. All I needed was to reach my tiny metal box, close myself inside, and recover in the safety if it shall. I always love my little sporty Nissan, now more than ever. And it was in my sight. going in i put the radio on three little birds was playing cushioning my clattering teeth into a halt easing my breathing every little thing's gonna be all right kept my soul from shattering faced with the unknown thread hanging over me thank god for marley i sighed regaining most of my composure enough so i could ring the reception and make sure mother would be all right as well

I'm sure she worries about me, how it looked and how I suddenly disappeared. Nevertheless, what could I have done? At least this way the nurses could lull her with some stupid excuse as to why I had to go so unexpectedly, rather than just having to see my face, my hair and figuring, or ascertaining that something was really wrong with her child. What followed thereafter, I actually have little memory of. I felt drunk and dazed.

muscle memory in the back of my brain allying together to bring me home in one piece. So, yeah, now I'm writing this. I was too afraid to look at the mirror. I'm not sure I want to know what horrors it would reveal. Speaking of horrors, Tina is still here. She sits at a chair on the dining table opposite of me.

She's awfully quiet today, but there's just something about her. Her eyes are filled with disgust, disdain. Seeing me look like I'm dying, they shine. Oh, happiness oozing out of them like huss from gangrenous limbs. The sight of her, it's unbearable. But also there's something about her. I feel she looks better today than usual.

Is it because I've seldom seen her happy? Her skin? Her skin looks smoother somehow. The many freckles that adorn her skin from spring to winter are now non-existent, and her wrinkles, matched on her face like the never-ending, disapproving grimaces that she has towards me. Even they have much receded. Is this all makeup? But then she is acting weird.

There's something that amuses her about me and about my condition. What is she doing to me? Can my situation be in some way caused by her? But how? That's just impossible. It was crazy. Still, I rejoice at that thought. I much prefer I lose my mind than my life.

I hope I'm better tomorrow. 13th of October, 2019. Oh, the 13th of October. Truly a cursed day for me. The phone rang earlier on, waking me up, even though it was already early afternoon. I struggled to collect myself and pick it up as everything was spinning before my eyes.

The meter that separated me from my mobile device was much like a crevice in between two mountains and abyss with no end. I only managed to accept the third call and that was with great pain. My hands were shaking. My finger joints cracking under the otherwise bernar weight of the light of the light

plastic phone. As I answered, it was someone who was calling for the car. My head was spinning, my brain blown to butter by the unbearable migraine that paralyzed my thoughts. A person on the other side of the line,

he was talking, but all he said was muffled, muted by the agonizing pain rushing to my ears. We agreed, I think, that he comes to take a look at it later on today. Now, He's here now.

He stands there, ringing at my doorbell. Tina stays behind me, expecting me to stand up and walk to him. Go out and complete what is perhaps the most important task on my way to leaving this God-forsaken place and flying all the way to chime. She grins. She knows. I know. I know I won't be able to.

My legs are far too weak. My head feels as if it's about to burst and split, much like lightning decimates a tree from the inside out. She smiles. She knows. She's anticipating this. I have to go. Maybe if I get away from here, maybe I'll be saved.

He's going to go away soon. Are you sure you want to stay down and let him? She whispers in my ear. Her voice so gentle yet. The words she says, so sad and cruel, is she killing me somehow? I look at her and I notice. Her hair, it's so beautiful, it radiates impeccably bright rays of light, raining down my failing eyes, hurting me but also arousing me.

I feel so attracted to her. I must have her. I know what's happening with me. I must go. I clench my teeth as I attempt to stand up. Tina does not help me, but then again she doesn't hinder me either. That metallic taste returns. I feel something warm spreading throughout my mouth.

Confused, not yet understanding what's going on. I touch my lips and they're wet. Wet with my own blood. This is true terror. I must continue writing this diary, for there is something that compels me. I tremble, teeth rubbing against each other. Soon enough, one of them gets loose and falls, tumbling, touching the others and breaking them to dust.

What has become of me? I am so, so tired. I feel like, 14th of October, 2019. team. It's Monday today. I have to go to work, but I just can't. I just vomited. It was all stomach acid, blood and lymph and all my teeth, what's left of it. I cannot talk. My body feels incredibly weak and brittle, as if bones were made of paper and muscle is nothing but mud bleached and put together by marrow and glue. And the pain.

It's far too strong to move or even think. As I'm writing this, I lose my fingernails one by one, leaving bloody traces on my laptop keyboard. Why am I even doing this? Why am I? Tina is here. She's put one of her gorgeous summer dresses on. Her legs. I don't remember them.

ever being this long and silky my eyes can't help but be drawn to her curves my heart pulsating with the very movement of the scarce fabric covering her silhouette she sports high heels making her tower above me casting down a shadow of both insane beauty and deep hatred oh i really want her she sits next to me my chest is shaking the exaltation pressing piercing pain out of each and every inch of my skin. My dear Sam, she runs her hand through my hair. You know you mean the world to me, don't you?

I trace the hundreds of hairs fluttering in the air, dancing their last tango with a draught at home. I feel the sharp coldness on my scalp, now bald and dry. However, I feel calm. I have my wonderful Tina with you. me. I am going to die a happy man.

No, please, just let me live. Oh, sweetheart, you know that just won't do. 17th of October 2019. I could not make a diary entry yesterday. The day before.

All my fingers broke. I struggled to breathe. I think this is the end but i am happy for i have tina here with me she's getting more and more beautiful with each passing day i so crave her and i so hate her it seems a demon lurks in that angelic body of hers and my she is wearing nothing but lingerie today she tempts me her body is tanned and toned to cruel perfection her figure more feminine and exciting than any other woman who ever wore the world

I want her so much if I could oh the things I would do to her but it hurts everything I just wish I could sleep with her one last time before I fall asleep one

19th October 2019. If you read this, make sure you don't look at my beautiful team. She is all mine. I am all hers. Make sure you close your eyes and be swift when you kill her. It turns out that the plague is still out there. It turns out we're not the only ones interested in the disease. I think I should say the disease is, in the plural.

Apparently, there are three kinds of plague in existence. There's the infamous bubonic plague, which infects the lymphatic system, causing a swelling of lymph nodes which leads to the appearance of the buboats. Then, there are the less visible, but far deadlier kinds, pneumonic and septicemic, infection of the lungs and blood, respectively. Honestly, I had no idea there were three types of plague. I've only found out. I only found that out after getting sick with two of the three variants.

Well, at least that's what I think. I was completely fucked up at one point, to the point of hallucinating a bird-headed alien thing. Two of my roommates died from whatever we had. Young healthy men don't tend to die from the flu. Everything's been upside down recently. I don't know what's wrong and what's right. Some days I genuinely think I'm stuck in a dream,

but then I snap back into reality. Zane and Adam's rooms are empty. They're not coming back. Chris and I didn't make it to the funerals. We told them we weren't sure if we were clear yet. That was a lie. We just couldn't handle the truth. I'm not sure I still can.

Everything is just so different now. It all started with the decomposing corpse of a cat. Adam found at our doorstep in... It all started with the decomposing corpse of a cat. Adam found at our doorstep in February. He kind of mentioned it as a side remark during that afternoon, saying he found it when he went out to work and that he tossed it as far away as he could have.

from the apartment. Three days later, he came down with a stomach bug, or so we thought. It started with stomach aches, nausea, diarrhea and vomiting. Soon enough, he was bedridden, paralyzed with fever. We just thought he was having the flu. It was the season, and there was a massive storm raging at the time. Well, it was so bad we'd even lose electricity from time to time. By the end of that same week. We were all feeling the same, suppose it flew. My head was constantly pounding, and my body felt weak and almost numb. My digestive system went second. I started vomiting like crazy on the second day of my illness. It was so bad I couldn't put anything in my mouth. The mere idea of swallowing made me throw up. Chris and Zane were complaining of chest pain

and having difficulty breathing. I mean, I wasn't really surprised. They were coughing so badly, one would think they were about to have a lung collapse on them. On my third day of the illness, all four of us were bedridden, completely incapacitated. We just stayed in the living room together,

and I guess we all got unbearably weak overnight together, probably watching some movie or something. It wasn't about taking care of each other. I mean, of course, we did care for Adam when he was in this alone. Although, we didn't really devote all of our time to him, and everything just happened so fast, and all four of us were basically living corpses within the blink of an eye. I mean, we didn't see the doctor because we all thought we'd be fine, and when we knew we wouldn't be just fine, it was already too late.

And then the electricity went out. And then the electricity went out of the winter. due to the crazy storm outside. I remember jokingly complaining about being kicked out, since it seemed like none of us would be able to make any money any time soon. We all found it so hilarious, we laughed until our entire body's hurt. Not that much aversion was needed to get there. I kept making jokes and fooling around during my waking hours because I was genuinely scared. I'd never felt so hurt and weak before. I never felt so bad. worn out. I'd never been this sick up to this point. Not to mention how I was losing feeling in my

legs from time to time, and how my feet were all bruised up from, well, nothing really. I didn't tell the other guys about this. I didn't want them worrying. They were worn out enough already. Six days into my illness. I couldn't really walk anymore. I just woke up that day, not even feeling my legs. The other guys were still asleep, so I tried to try to do that. I'd try to walk. I was my best not to scream like a little child. I mean, I couldn't even feel my freaking legs. I smacked at my thighs a few times, but nothing. I almost felt, I felt almost nothing. I mean, my legs registered nothing. My fist felt as if I'd been beating on a punching bag. I nudge my feet, but I wouldn't move. I had to shift my legs manually,

off my bed in order to try and stand up. I couldn't get myself to stand up straight. Once I pulled myself up to my feet, I felt dizzy and my legs felt like they were made of paper, so I immediately sat back down. That's when the pain from my wrists came knocking at my mind's door.

I feared the worst. The idea that I'd managed to break my arms, flooded my mind. I felt my heart raced like crazy for a moment. I slowly lifted my hands up, and noticed how my wrists were only red and blue. It was only bruising. Only bruising, I thought. I threw myself back down to my bed and immediately felt nauseous again.

It was the worst nausea ever. I felt like something was making its way up my esophagus, even though I hadn't eaten properly in a while. So I just threw up. It stung so bad and my stomach felt like I'd swallowed nails. Everything burned and stabbed inside. I felt like I had a bomb filled with shrapnel in my guts. Obviously the noise woke everyone up.

I didn't pay attention to anything because I was in so much pain. My whole body was becoming numb with pain. I felt something run down from my nose and onto my lips. I remember running my hand across my face and looking at it. There was blood on my hand. Blood was running across my lips. And then everything started spinning as if I was on a roller coaster. I felt so lightheaded, I couldn't even form words in my head.

I felt as if I was floating for a few moments. And then I came crashing down, crashing down, crashing down. hard. My chest seed up. My chest seized up, as if I was being crushed under a bed of pure concrete. I coughed and coughed. My throat went up in flames. I know Chris, who was faring the best out of all of us, was screaming something, at least I think he was screaming. No clue what he was screaming, though. I kind of blocked everything out involuntarily. I was, I was was simply focused on getting that coughing fit out of my system. My chest was on fire.

My throat was on fire. I felt something sticky coming out of my mouth with each passing cough. It was thicker than sputum. I didn't even think about it at the time. Everything just kind of went grey on me. I passed out as the screams of my buddy trowed off into nothingness. I had a million dreams about being operated on by something. I wouldn't call that a doctor.

I mean, he was cutting me up and stuff. But it never hurt or anything. It's like I was just floating above my bed, and this person, this thing, I don't know. It was drawing my blood in a few of those dreams. I don't even know. It felt so weird as if I was out of my own body. I wouldn't call it an out-of-body experience

because I'm clearly alive and I know that I was just dreaming. Well, at least I think I was dreaming. I woke up covered in a white sheet. I removed it from my face and the sunlight that came into contact with my skin sent me into a spiral of pain and vertigo. I closed my eyes shut and turned my head away. I was trying to make sense of what was going on.

To my knowledge there was a storm raging outside. a few hours ago, and when I woke up, it was sunny. I felt lighter than before, too, and could clearly sense my legs. I was feeling as if a truck had run over me, but still, I felt like I could actually somewhat operate my body. The sunlight was becoming less and less painful on my form, and I forced myself to look around. Everything seemed the same for the first moment or so. Then I noticed two white body bags laying where I remember Zane and Adam being when I passed out.

What the fuck? I murmured to myself, sitting up as morbid thoughts flooded my mind. A monotone, sort of robotic voice cracked from behind me. It said something weird in Russian, I think. I know what Russian sounds like, but this wasn't it. The sound freaked me out. I was wondering all these crazy things. My heartbeat rose so quickly I felt lightheaded again.

I was feeling myself slip out of it once more. And the voice spoke once again, in a heavily accented English. Oh, you awake. Good. I forced myself to turn around as slowly as I could to see this BDSM-M-looking person. thing with a bird mask on it. It looked like a plague doctor from the movies, but with a bunch of belts all around it.

You had plague. I'm sorry. The thing spoke again. What? I managed to blurt out. I was genuinely convinced it was the angel of death for a moment. You sick. Very.

The creature pointed its finger at me. "'I fix,' it continued. "'What the hell are you talking about?' "'I said with some confidence in my words, "'as my breathing became shallower "'and my heartbeat fastened, "'making my whole body tense up. "'The thing lowered its head

"'and hoped at something on one of its wrists. "'Ah, there,' he proclaimed with confidence. "'Now, my translators, working properly, I am here to help you recover from a particularly violent strain of the Yersinia pestis, otherwise known as the plague. I have the plague, I asked the creature, dumbfounded. Yes, you had it. Both your blood and lungs were infected, but I've since cleared it out of you.

The creature proclaimed once more, pointing. This time it pointed at a pulsating fabric-laced thing that was seen. for laying on the floor and connected to my arm by a thin tube. I rub my eyes as my headache began subsiding slowly. What are you? I am a doctor. I came here to help you get rid of this bane before it kills you and spreads elsewhere. It seemed to me like you don't have a cure for this condition.

My people have suffered greatly from it. It went on and on. We've been driven to the brink of infection by this vein. It was too late by the time we discovered a cure, and now there are not many of us left. Please trust my intentions. I only want to spare your kind the suffering that I had to endure. Oh, what?

I mumbled. I was too weak to comprehend what it was saying to me. The creature chuckled and ordered me to rest. So I did. I was too confused and tired to argue. I even considered this being part of my fever dreams. But then I noticed he was doing something to Chris. What are you doing to him?

I inquired weekly. Replacing his bioplasma. What's the word? Blood. Yes. Blood. I am replacing his blood. That's the only way.

The creature reassuring. sure of me. Will he be all right? Yes, most certainly. What about the other chew? Did you cure them? The creature paused for a moment. What is it?

I insisted. Unfortunately, I didn't make it in time. Once I arrived, they were no longer among the living. I could detect the sorrow in his voice. But it didn't help in the least. I broke down screaming at the creature, needlessly blaming it for the two deaths of my best friends. I forced myself out of the bed,

and clumsy made my way towards the creature. I was standing with his back turned to me. I grabbed this thing, which was taller, but... I grabbed this thing, which was taller by it a hole... Okay, this time. I grabbed this thing, which was taller than me by about a whole head and tried to turn it to face me

demanding from it to fix my disease friends it kept on insisting that it couldn't I didn't let up and an argument ensued the thing finally yielded fine there are your friends he remarked as he made some sort of movement with his fingers The sound of thrashing came out from both of my body. The sound of thrashing came out from both of the body bags.

I turned around to see the body bags being torn apart from the inside. My heartbeat skyrocketed as I was watching the madness in front of me unfold. A blackened arm tore through one of the body bags. Another followed suit and a blackened, bloated face sprung out of the body back. It was contorted into an agonized scream and the stench. God, that stench! I stood there, frozen in shock until my knees buckled and I fell into a puddle of dried up blood and by.

The second body sprang forth from its body bag and emitted terrible, gurgling sounds. I felt myself get sick again. I wanted to throw up so badly, but there was no. nothing to throw up. Stop. I begged. I couldn't handle the smell, and I sure as hell couldn't handle the sight. I feel like I'm going to violent.

I feel like I'm going to hyperventilage just thinking about this again. Holy shit. You wanted this, the creature beacened. I thought, I mumbled. It retorted. I told you, I wished I could fix them, but I cannot. Please, make it stop, please. I burst out into tears.

The abominations that were once my friends collapsed back into their body bags, and I crumpled into a ball on the floor and began wailing. The creature didn't utter sound. He just kept on doing whatever it was doing to Chris until it was finished. That came fairly soon after I'd broken down on the floor. I kept on mourning the loss of my mates, even after I'd run out of tears to cry. I just rolled around in the organic waste on the floor,

talking to myself about how I couldn't believe what was becoming of my life. At some point, this creature, this plague doctor, simply gathered up all of his stuff and left. But before he left, he told me that Chris and I were going to be all right. I couldn't help but laugh at his attempt to calm me down and then he just left. I'll be honest here.

I'm not entirely sure if what I'd seen there was real, just some sickness-related hallucination like I've mentioned before. So, it turns out I've been asleep for about two months. Once that thing left, I turned on the TV to find out it was April. Another thing I found out, another thing I found out after the plague doctor left and took the corpses of my friends with him that they were decomposing before he arrived.

I found the disgusting decomposition marks all over the mattresses they'd been lying on. Once Chris and I got enough strength up to leave our resting spots the following day after my encounter with the plague doctor, we headed out to the local police station and tried to explain everything. It turned out that we indeed did have traces of the plague bacteria

that our bodies were fighting off as if we'd been administered some powerful cure. No one has really been able to explain my comatose state. No one has really been able to explain my comatose state and the way I shook it off when I woke up. Oh, dear. I did mention a few. funeral. Well, after three weeks of searching, the police located the bodies of Zaynganem and Adam

Sinisky in a forest clearing not far out of town, surrounded by a bunch of dead animals. And they were all radioactive as far. Boom! I never wanted children, not even a little. I never batted an eyelash at the thought. Even when I was in my twenties and saw all all my closest friends were popping them out one after another. I don't recall a Sunday the year I was 27 when I wasn't attending a friend's baby shower. Even when Edward and I married, neither of us cared much for the idea. We enjoyed our lives together, and he was in the military, so he was away a lot. The hours and days we spent together were precious,

and at the time I couldn't even fathom spending time changing diapers or cleaning up after another in that capacity. I'd often watch my friends with their babies and think how lucky I was that I didn't have to worry about any of that. No babysitters required was the lifestyle I lived and I enjoyed it. Edward felt the same way and because he was away from Montser-end

his most recent stint being in Afghanistan. It was hard being away from him and adding the stress of children on top of all that was more than I could handle. Then it happened. The phone call every military wife dreads. Edward was riding in a truck with two other men when they hit a tripwire,

and the vehicle he was in exploded, blowing he and his comrades to bits. There wasn't even enough of him for a funeral. It's funny how, one moment we're alive, and then we're just pieces of flesh, strung about like feathers in the wind. It gets you thinking about how precious life really is, and how short.

After he died, I went through a long grieving process. I had to take leave from my job in sales to learn how to live my life without him forever. When he was stationed somewhere, it was easy because I always knew he'd be back, but knowing he would never return was sharp, like a knife in your heart. A few years passed, and I began dating again,

but it was never fun for me. I subconsciously compared every man to Edward. It wasn't on purpose by any means. It was just that they were all too tall and too thin, too stupid, too un-Edward. I took a break from dating, and three years after my Edward died, I woke up in a panic at 3 a.m. in the morning.

I stood in front of my bathroom mirror, looking at myself. I still had the dark hair and hazel eyes that had drawn Edward to me in the first place. You have an horror of mystery, and it was hard to escape you, he once said to me. I looked at the pale ghost in front of the mirror, and wondered where the pretty girl from that tiny town in England had gone to. She had hopes and dreams, and would spend her weekends in London visiting museums with punk rock hair shaved on one side. side. Now, she was a sad sack, staring at herself in the mirror, popping another pill just to get some chemically induced rest. What had I to show for my life? What had Edward to show for it?

What would be my legacy here on this planet? That's when I realized with a crushing blow to my ego that I desired children. The wanting need became hard to break free from once I knew. it was what I wanted. I just turned 36 on my last birthday. I was older, for sure. But why now? Why hadn't the desire hit me when Edward was still here

and I was in my roaring twenties? Tears fell from my face as I thought about it. My time to conceive would be limited due to my age, so if I were to wait around much longer, my chances would be next to zero. I made my decision to go about conception in the traditional way. I started to date again,

only this time I used my skills in marketing to market myself in a way that would attract as many suitors as possible. I started with online dating instead of getting introduced to mutual acquaintances as I friends knew. The first man that took me on a date was Nigel. He was a funny man with a small business near Lowestoft.

I was attracted to him immediately and felt at once like he and I could get serious. rather fast. We went on two more dates following our first encounter. But on the third date, just as we were finishing up our dinner, where you think you'll be making eggs

and serving them naked with mimosas, well, he says the most awful thing. You know, before we go any further, I want you to know that I'm a sexual offender. But it isn't what it sounds like.

I was 26 and she was 15 at the time. I thought she was older. She certainly looked it, but she lied to me because she was lying to her roommate. She was working at a bar and had run away from home. We were dating for a while, but then her mum saw her on the street with me and the next thing I know,

she's living at home again with her parents. And I'm in jail trying to put together the pieces. I had to be choking, I thought to myself. I bid him good night and promptly deleted his telephone number from my contact list and blocked him for good measure.

The bad online dating didn't stop there and more ridiculous encounters followed suit until I just gave up and decided to go the non-traditional method and try artificial insemination. It wasn't ideal but man or no man I wanted a child. Once I completed a series of tests

such as blood, fertility and tissue samples, I was given the green light to move forward. I made my appointment on a Tuesday at a clinic, and as I sat in front of the doctor, he eyed me up and down before finally speaking. You don't smoke. No. You are under 40?

Yes. The doctor seemed very serious as he looked over his charts, and then began to go over the test results once again. After about three separate IVF trials, I was provided a pregnancy test and learned that I was not pregnant. I was disappointed, and now being the third time, I was going to be responsible to pay for additional treatments, not already part of my medical plan. This could get expensive, and as I sat on the train headed home for the city, I looked out of the window, thinking of Edward, and how much I missed him right. now. Just then, as fate would have it,

I happened to be scrolling through my Facebook newsfeet when a clinical research advertisement popped up. Having trouble conceiving? Or have you already been through painful IVF therapies? Call this number, and you may be a candidate for a paying clinical research trial. Finally jumped out of my seat, and when I got off the train, I went straight home and called the number.

I spoke to a nice woman, who set me up an appointment to meet with a research assistant at Dulce Laboratories. I'd never heard of it. But I arrived on time, and I sat in the small waiting room. It was a posh little office with white floors and glass walls. On the secretary's desk was an enormous purple orchid. She was very pretty and dressed in very nice clothing. I could tell they must have been Gucci because I owned the knock-off version of the very same blouse.

I was nervous and could feel my hands sweating as I fumbled around and bit my nails. The secretary got a phone call on her tiny headset and then smiled at me. Dr. Renee will see you now. She took me to an office at the far end of a long hallway that smelled like bleach, and then, when I went in, I faced a short, friendly woman with a large smile on her round face. Hi, I'm Dr. Renee Randall. Please, won't you sit down? It's a pleasure to meet you, Jacqueline.

Likewise, I said, smiling at the short, dark-haired doctor, who could be my saviour. Tell me about yourself, Jacqueline. Well, I'm 36, widowed going on three years now. I've been through IVF therapies in the past, and they didn't work. What made you decide to contact us? Hope, I guess. I was hoping you could help me. After all, what do I have to lose?

She smiled, nodding, and then handed me a form to fill out. Everything will be kept anonymous because this is a trial, so your name will not be listed in the research, only the results of the trial. We'll need to complete a background check, blood and tissue tests, obviously, as well as fertility testing. One other thing that we need you to consent to is that psychiatric evaluations will also be required throughout. We will require a letter of recommendation by someone close to you.

We'll also require you to sign a non-disclosure and provide at least three additional references. Once all of these requirements have been met, we'll take your information to our board and make a decision on whether or not you will be one of our participants. We also screen the donors to ensure they are disease-free. held the form in my hand, feeling suddenly very overwhelmed by all of this. I wondered what sort of trial this was going to be, considering all the extra testing and references required.

I agreed to all the additional work, and once I completed all the tests, provided the references and the letter of recommendations made by my good friend Laura, I was a nervous wreck, waiting on them to make their decision on whether I would be a participant. I was at the park the day I got the call I'd been waiting on, with my best friend Laura, who was sitting on a blanket in front of me, while her two young sons played in the mud. Why on earth would anyone purposefully do this? She laughed at her sons as they seemed to be getting dirtier by the second. Oh, I don't know. I think you have a pretty nice gig here, I said, smiling at her. You know, motherhood is amazing, but it definitely has his down.

outside. There are days I literally want to hang myself from the raft as in my attic. I shook my head, laughing at her. You don't mean that. Just then her youngest son came over and tackled her, putting mud all over her neck and white blouse. Hey! Look, Mommy, my fingerprints. Now you have them on you, he laughed. Do you see what I mean? She looked at me. Boys, Why don't you go and play on the swings now? Her sons ran away completely ignoring her, as they went toward where they'd just come from, and began throwing mud at each other.

I chuckled at Laura as she tried to get the mud off her shirt. God, my children aren't human. I'm convinced of it. I blame their father's jeanple. We laughed, and as we sat there, I got a call on my cellular. Oh, I think it's the research clinic, I said, staring at Laura in a panic. Well, what are you waiting for? Answer the damn thing.

Your future of being a mother to little monsters await you, she said with a silly look on her face. Hello? Jacqueline Dunker. Yes, speaking. Dr. René Randall here. I just wanted to let you know that you've been selected to pass his son. in the fertility trial. Oh my God, that's wonderful news.

Laura looked at me and put her arm around me, joining in my excitement. Congratulations, Jacqueline. There'll be a package delivered in three to seven days with the fertility device inside of it and instructions on what to do with it.

You'll be given 12 weeks to complete the trial, which is three different ovulation periods. Please, if you have any questions, questions at all. Phone our office. However, everything should be self-explanatory. I got off the phone with Dr. Randall and looked at Laura as tears fell down my face. I was so excited, and Laura matched my own excitement with hers as she hugged me. The package took longer than expected to arrive, to the point I was ready to contact Dr. Randall and ask her if they'd changed their minds. Laura was over having tea with me the afternoon,

the delivery came. There was no warning, just a loud knock at my door that startled me, and it caused me to almost drop my cup of tea that I was holding. Laura and I both looked at one another, and I went to the front door to see who it was. I opened the door to a young man wearing black sunglasses, so you could barely see his face. Mom, are you Jacqueline Dunkirk? Yes. Please sign here. I signed for the package, and then the man, man who had the large crate on a dolly wheeled it past both myself and Laura. We looked at one another as the man bid us goodbye and walked out my front door and got into a large black delivery truck with tinted windows so you couldn't see inside. I shut the door and then looked

at the large crate which was a bit taller than my icebox. Oh, is that your package? asked Laura. I went over to the box, and on the side it had a red marking that said, product of Dulce Laboratories worldwide. Yeah, it looks like, I said, confused. Jeez, whatever's in that is as big as my two-in-one laundry unit. She smirked at me. I shot Laura a look, rolling my eyes. I tried to open the crate, but there was no latch to pull. I think I'm going to need a crowbar.

Oh, I think Reggie has one in his toolbox he keeps in the back of my trunk. I nodded, and she ran to her car to get it. When she came back, we used the crowbar to tug at the door for what seemed like ages, and then we got the door off of it. We both stood back in amazement. Body shit, Jackie. Is this for real? Laura burst out laughing then.

So they sent you a sex doll then? I scowled at the thought as I looked at it. Inside the tall craig was a man. He was tall, muscular, tan, dark hair and eyes. His skin was very human-like, not like a plastic doll at all. It looked soft to the touch, but I dared not touch it. I was a bit creeped out by his life-like appearance. He wore only white boxes, and his front was.

was covered in a very sheer plastic wrapping. I slowly removed it to find that he was stored in a gel-like substance, the consistency of one of those air fresheners. Around his large neck was a set of instructions. I took them in my hand, and then Laura and I both looked at them. Laura grabbed them from me, and read them out loud. Hello, my name is George. To activate me, you will need to press the button.

at the small of my back. Only you will be able to activate me with the use of your fingerprint. Oh, no, I said to Laura, grabbing the instructions from her. This is too much. I'm calling that doctor right now to give her a piece of my mind.

Laura looked at me, concerned. Are you sure? You mean you don't want to see what it's all about, even a little bit? Tears began to stream down my face. And Laura nodded, taking it as her cue to leave me alone. After Laura left the house, I poured out my phone to call Dr. Randall, using the direct line she'd provided to me. Dr. René Randall here.

Hello, Doctor. This is Jackie Dunkirk phoning you. Your package arrived out 15 minutes ago. I honestly don't know what to say. Is this a joke? No, not at all. Have you activated George yet? Absolutely not.

Jackie, please don't be alarmed. This is a trial. He is a robot that specializes in acting like a real partner. He has a pre-programmed simulation to be a gentle and loving partner through the reproductive process. He is one of our first prototypes, based on our research done in numerous controlled environments and through use of psychological testing. He's designed to be an IVF device that, is more personal. Through our research, we have found that most women don't conceive in an unloving

environment, nor do they often conceive in the impersonal IVF procedures most clinics currently use. You see, most mothers need to be in a loving environment and have a support system, and through doing this trial you will help others exactly like you. This is madness. How does it even work? He will learn your routines and help you that way. He will be the man that you need. He is your perfect mate during this process. Oh my God, I said, trying to grasp the concept of what was going on.

You see, most of our research that has been done in prisons worldwide has proven that human beings need love from before conception until after. Just keep George for a few days. and if it isn't working, we can deactivate him from our central office, and one of our men will come and pick him up. Isn't that what you wanted, Jackie? A child to call your very own? What if George can offer that to you?

I looked at the man in the box with the closed eyes, and after a long pause, I made up my mind to try. I followed the instructions and press my index finger to the tiny box feature on the small of his lower back. Within seconds I heard a beeping sound and then this thing took a deep breath

and opened its eyes I backed away from it and he stared at me intently for a second blinked twice then smiled a friendly little smile at me Hello Jackie I'm George It's very nice to meet you

His voice was deep but soft and unthreatening I stood watching him, waiting for him to do something, and then he moved to bend over and detach a wire that was wrapped around his ankle. He stepped out of the tall crate and walked over to me and held out his large hand. I just looked up at him and couldn't say anything. I just stood in shock. Please don't be afraid. I can tell your pulse is raised and your brow is sweating.

perhaps you could use a drink he iced the room and without having ever been to my home before he walked towards my liquor cabinet and opened it he poured me a drink in a glass and added ice to it from my freezer he handed it to me smiling and I began to laugh uncontrollably you're in shock

here drink up I took a sip and my hand shook and then I chugged the remainder He took the glass from me and laughed. He actually laughed as though he were a human being. I looked up at him and I had to admit, even to myself, well, he was gorgeous. He was tall and protective looking, but there was something about his dark brown eyes. They were warm, almost lifelike.

I couldn't explain. They glistened with a reddish hue and dark brown eyes. reddish hue and appeared thoughtful. I found myself slowly relaxing around him and found that he caught on very quickly to my routine. When I went to work, he had my coffee ready at exactly the time I needed it. My clothes were pressed and hung, and my house was spotless. He was my very own robot-made service. Days passed and nothing happened between us that would make you ever think that his entire purpose of being created was to help me create human life. We played chess, and I got used to it. It was nice to have someone around after being alone for the last three years. Then, one evening,

I'd just come home from work when it happened. George was waiting by the front door, watching me intently as he opened it for me. Hello, George. You're looking a bit serious, I joked, considering, well, he was a robot. It is time. Time for what? I was genuinely confused. For me to help you conceive a child. Your body told me this morning you were nearing ovulation.

Your temperature is raised as well. We only have a short window of opportunity. Won't you join me in the bedroom? I felt like I was going to face. George, I think perhaps I need to fully prepare for this. I understand, but it's already been two weeks, and you only get three trials with me. I was genuinely nervous, and found myself stumbling over my words. I need a moment to think.

Perhaps you could use a drink. He smiled at me. That too, I said, looking at him. Why don't you just relax? Do you like music? Love it. Just then my Alexa began to play soft jazz music on a volume not too loud or too soft. He had a drink in his hand faster than I could comprehend him preparing it.

Would you like to dance? Perhaps we could move to the music a bit so you can get used to touching me. I took a swig of my drink and a deep breath. He moved the hair from my face. tucking it behind my ears and then gently placed his left hand around my hips and in his right hand he took my own hand and began to slowly dance. This was odd even for me but the alcohol had begun to take effect and before I knew it this robot was kissing me gently on the lips. Somewhere between dancing and his kissing me it happened. I won't lie and say it wasn't good.

It was outstanding. The way he moved was unlike any human man I'd ever been with. He was sweet, attentive and romantic. The way he looked at me was like I was the most beautiful woman in the entire universe. The next morning, I awoke feeling awkward in my nakedness. I sat up in bed because I found that George was staring at me with a sort of gentle smile on his face. You look embarrassed Please don't be

Jackie You are beautiful Ah There he said it Damn him It was like he could read my mind How did you know when to arrive I asked

Awkwardly I'm prepared to hold off Until you arrive And then I do Yes But you arrived and already had You have sperm ready for me. How does that work? Temperature controlled. It is stored up in me for up to three

months, frozen for the most part, until you begin to ovulate, and then it begins to thaw. I hope I'm not making light of what is a very beautiful thing, creating life. No, I was just curious. It's also incredibly weird to me. Yes, I can see how you would think so. Would you like me to write you? you a bar. I nodded and then he prepared my bath water. It wasn't too hot, not too cold, just perfect like everything else he did for me. It was, in a sense, too good to be true. Laura called later that day to see how I was holding up. I don't know how to describe it, I told her. He sounds like every woman's fantasy. I want to do lunch. later today. I agreed, and Laura met me in the late afternoon. When she got to the door,

George opened it before I could, and he stood there looking at her. Can't describe the look on his face, but it was as though he were reading her. Hello, I'm George. Yeah, and I'm the queen, Laura said, dismissive of him, and walked over to me. He's creepy. He's creepy. He's. He's creepy. Pizn't he? I rolled my eyes at her and I noticed George was only eyeing Laura. Are you sure you should go now? I detect you'll be ovulating again in a few hours. Laura looked at me and looked back at George. Oh, bugger off. She's going with me. I looked at George as Laura pulled me with her out of the door. George looked at me like a puppy dog. but I noticed something in his eyes when he looked at Laura.

Could it be jealousy? Surely not. He was simply protective, the way Dr. Randall had said he was supposed to be. The lunch I had with Laura went on longer than I thought, and then it turned into dinner and a few glasses of wine. I knew I shouldn't, but I needed a break from all the baby-making business. When I arrived home, all the lights were off in my house, and at first I began to feel frightened that something was wrong.

However, when I opened the door, George had lit candles and was standing in the kitchen with a plate of shrimp cocktail and a sweet smile on his face. I thought you might be hungry. Did you eat with Laura while you were out? I sighed and shook my head. The shrimp looks delicious. How do you learn to cook and prepare drinks and meals?

I'm programmed to know a little bit of everything. I smiled, and he came over to me and kissed my cheek. Once again I found myself in his strong arms, pretending I was unaware he was only a computer on two legs. The weeks rolled by, and while the first trial didn't go the way I'd hoped, there was still hope after our last encounter. I was sitting in my kitchen having a glass of water and some toast.

when George came in wearing a sweet smile. I have amazing news. The trial is over and you are pregnant. I looked at him, puzzled for a moment, and then he walked over to me and pricked my finger. I've been able to detect the chemical change in your body, and with this tiny blood sample, I'll test it to be sure. But you are exactly three weeks along.

I stood up with you. tears in my eyes. Are you sure? I am required to send over the test to Dr. Randall for her review, but I am positive. I was overcome with a joy I'd never experienced before. The last few weeks seemed to fly by, as George, per requirement, remained to help me until he was required to go. It was the last week he would be with me, when I noticed a change in George. He seemed a bit sad, and to be honest, I was feeling rather sad at losing him. I don't want to go, Jackie. I don't really want you to go either, George.

I rather like having you here. Perhaps we could see if I could stay on longer. I thought about it for a moment, and I welcome the idea. Being alone when you have a child is bad enough, but if George could stay on and help me during the first year, months, that would be even better. I went to see Dr. Randall the next day, so I could ask for an extension. No, I'm afraid that isn't possible. Why does he have to go so soon? 12 weeks is all he was programmed for, Jackie. He must be sent back the way he came, not a moment before or a moment after.

Someone will be around next Tuesday to pick him up. Dr. Randall was stern about him. it and her decision was unwavering. I didn't want George to go. I broke the news to him when I arrived home, but he wasn't very happy about it. I don't have to go. Not if you don't answer the door. I looked at George and smiled empathetically.

She said your only program for 12 weeks. But I learn from you, Jackie. I nodded in agreement, and he put his arms around me, holding on to me. It was hard to forget he wasn't a human being in moments like this. It was so soft, so real. Tuesday came, and just like Dr. Randall said,

someone came to my house and expected George to be in a nice box just the way he came. To be honest, it felt wrong keeping poor George in a box. We stood by the door watching to ensure the man left. The man hesitated. and then walked away, and off he drove in his all-black delivery truck. George high-fived me, and we had a good laugh. That night, George danced with me, and we held each other while I fell asleep on his chest. The next morning, I awoke expecting George to be in the room next to me.

I got out of bed and walked into the kitchen, but there was no sign of him. When I looked around the house, that's when. I saw it. Laura was laying in my backyard. Blood covered my lawn. And the look on George's face was like nothing I'd ever seen. I knew with every fibre of my being, she was dead. I wanted to run to her, to help her, to save her.

But then he looked up at me. He noticed I was there, and he saw the terror on my face. and smiled at me as though we were trying to comfort me. Jackie, she came here this morning, and she wasn't very nice to me when I told her I was staying. She called me a stupid robot, and I tried to tell her, I love you. She wouldn't listen to reason.

So I showed her. I showed her in her smart mouth, good, didn't I? I ran from George then and grabbed my phone. I hid in the bathroom, locking the door behind me. My hand shook as I tried to dial the number to Dr. Randall's office. I got her voicemail, so I dialed the telephone number that had been provided to me in case there was a malfunction with George. Hello, thank you for calling Dalje Laboratories.

We're here to help the world become a better place one day at a time. Damn you! I screamed into the phone, pressing all the options until an operator can. came on. Delta Laboratories, Jenny speaking, a pleasant voice said to me. I need help. I need it now. What seems to be the issue?

My robot's trying to kill me, I cried into the phone. I'm sorry, ma'am. I couldn't make out what you're saying. Do you have an item number so I can look up your device? Please help me, I screamed hysterically into the phone. I was a loud banging on my bathroom door and then I saw it the hinges on the door were coming undone

Jackie I did it to help you to help us I heard the door handle jiggle and then I heard what sounded like an electric drill going in the screws on the door the bastard was taking off the door one screw after another

I was sure he was going to kill me if he got his hands on me. My hands shook as I dialed the police. My hands shaking as I pressed the buttons. Nine. Then, nine. Then before I could hit the last button, I heard a loud explosion. I didn't know if it was a gun or a bomb going off in my house. I was too frightened to move. The door opened to my bathroom, and I screamed before I could see who it was. Two men in black stood over me, and one of them were standing over George. I looked down at the monster and saw he was bleeding. George had blood coming out of him, and it was running into my hallway.

I watched the crimson liquid slowly moved towards where I was crouched on my bathroom floor. I looked up at the men, one of who was on the phone. Yep, we got him. but there was a casualty. Yep, just like the other one, he was saying as he walked away. The other man was eyeing me empathetically and helped me up off the floor.

The police never came because Daltony Laboratories had come and cleaned up the mess. They cleaned my house and they even tried their best with Laura. Luckily for both Laura and I, she wasn't dead. She'd suffered a very bad

beating, but was recovering in hospital. Dolce made it look like a car accident. I had so many questions for Dr. Randall. I refused to let it go. Finally, after weeks of pressing her office to get answers about what happened with George, I was granted a meeting. First, I need you to sign this non-disclosure form before I tell you the truth. We have to be sure that no one will ever find out about

what happened. She held out the form and I signed my name quickly and then shoved it back into her face. Let me apologize for what happened with George. I don't understand. I thought you said he was to be protective, comforting, helpful. George was programmed for exactly a 12-week trial. He was made for women like yourself who were of a certain age, single in need of a kind soul to make them feel good about themselves. Past twelve weeks, we didn't have a finished script. When you didn't return George, we didn't come in guns blazing to taking back. We wanted to see what would happen.

Unfortunately, there are still some kinks to work out. He was bleeding. How is that even possible? Dr. Randall looked guiltily at me, and then she stood up as though she were trying to find the right words. That is because he used to be human like you. I looked at her, stunned, taking in short breath to keep myself from freaking out. You mean he was human, and that's why he looked so lifelike.

In the United States, there are many men on death row. Instead of dying and forever being useless, we've given some of them the opportunity to donate their bodies to science here in England through one of our affiliate labs in Ohio, and that is how we obtain George. So instead of a formal execution, we rebuilt them and reprogram their brains using state-of-the-art technology. It's only a computer living inside of a human being fit with mechanical parts. You mean George was a criminal? Yes, you are the third person to complete a trial with George. So far, you were the lucky one. I'm sorry to say all the others had worse incidents with George. I sat looking at Dr. Randall in disgust. George did seem to have an attachment

to you that went far beyond what happened with the others. What was his crime when he was alive? I'd rather not go into specifics. Just tell me. He murdered. He murdered. He murdered. He it is his wife because she left him. After she took out a restraining order, he stalked her, got her alone one night, and he stabbed her 83 times. He was sentenced to death because of the way he mangled the body. He stabbed her so hard in her neck, she was nearly decapitated. And the other trial patients? I'm not at liberty to discuss that with you. My baby. What about it? Should I worry about it?

What did you do with George? Oh, he was sent back for more intensive reprogramming. I stood and walked out of Dr. Randall's office. I never spoke of what happened to anyone, well, because of legal ramifications. My daughter was born healthy, and I was happy about that. Laura went on to live a normal life and never remembered much about that day

that George nearly beat her to death. Some months later, I was in the park with my young daughter and a friend from work. Some months later, I was in the park with my young daughter and a friend from work when I saw a man with a young woman. He was holding her hand. And then, when he stood up, he turned to look at me, still smiling. I sat, feeling terrorized,

as the young man approached me and my friend. The young woman was oblivious, as I had once been. There stood George, standing over me, looking at my daughter. She is quite lovely, isn't she? He asked the young woman with him, and she nodded. How old? asked the young woman, smiling. Six months, I said, barely able to get the words out, and they walked away. and I hoped that he had indeed forgotten me.

I stood up to go, and my friend and I had to pass them on the way out of the park. George looked at me, smiling as we went. It was really great seeing you again, Jackie. And so once again, 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 again, same time, same place, and I do so hope you'll join me once more. Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye.