Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S6 Ep351: Episode 351: Horror Stories from Alaska

Episode Date: July 7, 2026

All of tonight’s stories were either shared directly with me or have been read unuder the conditions of the CC-BY-SA license.‘The Kushtaka’ by Stygiancrest.https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/The_Kushtakahttps://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/User:Stygiancrest‘The Woodline’ by YakuYabai.https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/The_Woodlinehttps://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/User:YakuYabai‘He Played Until His Fingers Bled’ by Pen_phantom13.https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/He_Played_Until_His_Fingers_Bledhttps://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/User:Pen_phantom13‘They Emerged from the Woods’ by Nicholas Gray.https://www.reddit.com/user/Nicholas_Gray ‘Cold Weather Phenomena: Richardson Highway, Alaska’ by Eldrazi Horror.https://www.reddit.com/user/EldraziHorror'The Alaskan Curse' by Masaman14.https://www.reddit.com/user/Masaman14/'Howls at Dawn' by Saraphim663.https://www.reddit.com/user/Saraphim663/'It wasn't a Reindeer' by Michael Paige. https://michaelpaigeblog.wordpress.com/'Beware the Alaskan Flesh-Eating Fungus' Hapy Orange Juice.https://www.reddit.com/user/HapyOrangeJuice/

Welcome to Dr. Creepin's Dungeon. Alaska is a terrifying place because it feels like one of the last truly wild places on earth. A land where nature still exists on a scale that humans struggle to control. Endless forests, frozen mountains and vast stretches of wilderness that create a sense of isolation where help can be hundreds of miles away. The darkness of long winter nights, unpredictable weather, and the presence of powerful predators all add to the land. the feeling that you are never truly alone.

Beyond the physical dangers, Alaska carries a deep sense of mystery. Abandoned towns, strange disappearances, and countless legends of things hiding beyond the reach of civilization. Yes, it's a place of breathtaking beauty, but also a reminder that there are still corners of the world where humans are not the ones in charge, as we shall see in tonight's collection of epic tales. 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 Klushtaka. My name is Kevin Wilson. I only thought it was right to write about what happened to me and my family. Before my incident, I was a very logical and skeptical man. I didn't believe in Bigfoot, Werewolves, Ghosts or anything to that nature. They were just silly bedtime stories that my mother used to tell me. Nowadays I'm not too sure what I believe. When I close my eyes, I can see her.

Now, anyway, before I get too far ahead of myself, I should probably start at the beginning, back before I met those things. My wife, Monica and I, lived in Reno, Nevada, for basically our whole lives. When my wife got pregnant, I was so happy. All my life I'd wanted to be a father and teach my child how to grow up in the world.

I can still remember the day that my son was born. He was so small and fragile, and I was so happy that my dream finally was coming true. Well, of course, I was happy for Monica as well, giving birth to our beautiful child, Toby. A few years after Toby's birth, Monica and I started talking about moving. We wanted to get out of the city and desert

and find a nice small community where we could raise our son. We searched for weeks, hundreds of cities in every state that didn't have a desert in it. And finally, after weeks of searching for the perfect place, Monica found the city of Juno. It was the capital of Alaska, and yet it only had about 30,000 people in it. We checked our budget and came to the conclusion that we would move to Juno. When the plane landed in Juneau, it was raining. Not heavily raining, mind you, just drizzling more or less.

We were told by some locals that it rains quite a lot in Juneau. We didn't mind, though. we just wanted to help with a big city stress and clutter. We'd already made plans on renting a house and getting interviews for jobs before we'd moved up there, just to be in the safe side. We took a cab and started our way to our house, which was in a part of Juneau they called Douglas. We had to cross a bridge to get to Douglas, which we learned from the cab driver was a large island next to the mainland of Juneau.

He dropped us off in front of our house, and what a view we had of the water. We were on the beachfront and had a stretch of a beach where we could go straight to the water. It was very beautiful and we thought that we'd made the right choice for everyone. As we settled into our new house, I remember glancing outside and seeing an animal floating in the water, staring towards our house. Well, I knew nothing about animals, but I thought I should take a picture of it to symbolise that this was our good luck symbol. By the time I got on the camera and come back to the window, it was gone. I didn't know it at the time, but the animal I'd seen was an otter.

That night I was woken up by strange noises coming from the beach. I got out of bed and looked out the window to see dark silhouettes running on all fours. When I managed to grab my camera and snap a few photos of the things and went back to bed. The next morning I showed my Monica and Toby the pictures of the animals. They were amazed and Monica thought that whatever they were, they were cute. when I went to work I showed some of my co-workers the picture and one of them blurted out

oh those would be sea orders playing in your property I remember asking him if they were dangerous and he replied with only if provoked or unless it's a kushhtaka everyone but me laughed at what seemed to be a joke

that went straight over my head don't make fun of them the new voice startled me and I spun around to see who it was. It was a man who appeared to be an Alaskan native. The other sighed and went back to work, well, all except me. I wanted to know what this Kvhtaka was. I asked him why you shouldn't make fun of them,

and he replied with the classic, You're not from around here, are you? I shook my head since there was no sense in life. Well, he replied. Kushtaga is a tlingered, word meaning, utter people. They are known for being shapeshifters and for killing and eaten humans.

I went home that day thinking how stupid that had sounded. Shapeshifting human otters? What a joke that was. A few nights later, I was in the living room watching TV while Monica went to drop Toby off to friends for a sleepover. As I sat there, I heard a sort of scratching

coming from the back door. I got up to look, and as I reached for the house, handle I heard the sound of a baby crying on the other side. I froze as the sound made my hair stand up on end. The crying was coming from just outside the door, where I'd just heard scratching noises. I wasn't sceptical, as I said before, but for a brief instant, every horror movie I'd ever watched came back to me. I shook the feeling off and opened the door.

I looked down, and staring at me with bright green eyes, was an otter. Well, that was really concerning for me, considering there was no baby there. I stared at it for a few seconds before I tried to nudge it away with my shoe. Well, as I touched it, it hissed at me and swiped at me, taking a good chunk of skin with it. I yelped in pain and the otter scurried back to the water. I sat down, holding my wound as it dripped blood onto the hardwood floor and looked up to witness the otter, stand on two legs and look back at me. It gave me an eerily human-like grin. showing its sharp teeth and licked its claws.

I don't know if my heart had ever beat that hard before, but I can say that honestly I'd never been that scared from my life before. I quickly got up and slammed the back door shut and locked all the doors and windows. When Monica got home, I told her about what had happened and showed her my wound. She took me to the hospital, and she continuously tried to convince me

that I was just in shock and had imagined the whole thing. I know what I saw, though, and I didn't know how to explain it to her without sounding crazy. After getting a series of rabies and tetanus shots, we went home. As we walked in the front door, we could see that our house was thrashed, furniture torn up and scattered everywhere, dishes shattered, and everything else in between. As Monica called 911, I noticed that the back door was wide open. It had large claw marks running down it. When the authorities arrived, they told us that it looked.

looked like a bear had gotten in. I told them that I'd lock the back door, and they responded with, Hmm, that's strange behaviour for a bear then. We cleaned out the mess when the authorities left and went to bed. It took me a long time to get to sleep, because with every creek of the house, I was reminded of that smile the otter had given me, and it lapping my blood from its claws. Weeks after all that happened, I was at the table eating breakfast with Monica. Toby then came down the stairs rubbing his eyes and looked at us.

I'll never forget the words he said next. He looked right at me and said, The art of people told me last night they want to kill me. My heart sank at hearing those words, and every time I think about that day and what he said, anyway, after he said that, Monica blamed me for filling his head with scary stories. She and I drove Toby to school, and argued the rest of the way home about whose thought it was for what Toby had said.

That night, I couldn't sleep very well. I thought of what Toby had said and Monica and I fighting, I was a little on edge and restless. So I thought I'd go sit in the chair in the living room. I sat down and started to doze off, right as I heard a baby crying like before. I sat up, confused, and then became scared for Toby. I got up and ran to his room to check him out.

opened the door to his room and froze in utter fear. Standing over his bed was something ungodly hideous. It had the body of an otter standing only about five feet tall. And its hands were like those of humans, when it had large curved claws instead of fingernails. His face was that of a half otter and half man with that same crooked smile. It stared into my eyes with its heel. hypnotic look and turn slowly towards me. I shook myself out of my trance and looked at it only to

feel its sharp claws enter my shoulder and its heavy body pouncing on me, knocking me to the ground. It loud a piercing screech as it laughed off my body and ran for the door. I lay on the ground, holding my bleeding shoulder as a loud shatter echo through the house, followed by the sound of Toby sobbing uncontrollably. And then I blacked out. I woke up in the hospital with a bandage around my arm and a few tubes sticking out of me. I looked around the room and saw Monica and Toby sitting next to me. Monica leaned down and kissed me softly and Toby hugged me. I was so overjoyed to find out they were safe.

I actually cried. The doctor told me that by my wounds it looked like I'd been attacked by a bear. I argued, of course, because I knew that I was not attacked by a bear. It was one of those kush-tucker things. but as I tried to plead my case to them, they told me that I must have dreamed that it was. I couldn't believe that no one was listening to what I was saying. I know that it most definitely sounded like I'd imagined it,

but it was still the truth. I stayed at the hospital for a few nights longer to fully recover. My last night there, I had a very weird dream. I was under the water, swimming in the rain. I popped up above the surface of the water, and I was staring at my house. I turned my head and glanced at what looked like four otters surrounding me and nodded. We all began to swim towards my house.

I woke up in an absolute panic and looked outside as the rain pounded against my window. I had to get out of here and go check up on my family immediately. I got dressed and since I was on the first floor of the hospital, jumped out of the window. I ran as fast as I could, hoping that it was all nothing more than a dream, and I'd find them asleep in their beds. As I got to the front step of my house, I clasped on the welcome mat, gasping for air. I was soaked down to the bone and my lungs felt like they were being crushed.

As I regained my strength, I opened the front door slowly and was greeted with the darkness of my house. I tried the lights, but they didn't turn on. I gulped and stepped inside further, noticing the slight breeze coming from the house. I could see the blue. back door was wide open. My heartbeat faster and I walked towards my family's rooms.

As I walked closer, my vision had trouble adjusting to the pitch blackness that surrounded me. Suddenly, I stepped into something that squished under my weight and slipped out from under me. I landed on my back and immediately gasped as the air was knocked out of me. I lay there for a few seconds before I looked to see what tripped me up. Lying on the ground next to me was a body with his entrails ripped out, limbs torn off and face-skinned. I stared in horror, for even though this person was virtually unrecognizable, I knew that it was my moniker. I turned away from it, not wanting to look at the abomination. Tears fell down my face as reality slowly started to sink in. After a few minutes, I heard a scream from outside.

It was Toby. I got up quickly, shaking off the pain, rushing down my back and heart, and I sprinted out the back door to the beachhead. I stopped as I looked into the green eyes of a Kushtaka. He was grinning crookedly as it held Toby by his hair. Toby screamed and kicked, trying to get away from the thing's clutches.

I cursed it. Let my son go, you bastard. Take me. instead. The Kushtaka smiled more, showing his sharp teeth as he did. It acted like my police for mercy entertained it. It held Toby up further and put his hand under him, holding him like a child. It slowly started to pet his hair as it spoke in a crackle, dry voice. No matter what has or what will happen in my life, I'll never forget that awful voice on what it said. It stared into my eyes and said,

Oh, I enjoy this too much. With those words, he pulled Toby's head back and sank his teeth into my son's neck. I screamed and watched in horror as it tore my son's neck out and then threw him at me. Toby landed on the ground with a thump and I watched him die in front of me. The Kushtaka laughed and dove into the water, swimming off into the blackness. After the cops had cleaned out the mess and I was released after being questioned for murdering my family

I flew back down to Reno so I could be away from the ocean I always remember everything that happened while we were up there and I'll never forget those things that lurk in the oceans because of the Krushhtaka I'll never go anywhere near the ocean again I can't sleep in the dark anymore and every time I hear a baby's cry

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slash creep right now. Once more, that's harries.com slash creep. The Woodline. I've only been living in Alaska for a year and a couple of months now, but with a constant weather change, it feels like I've been here longer than that. It's barely September,

and it's already beginning to snow. That might be the norm for most people that live in the upper part of the US, but I'm from Texas, and it doesn't really snow down there. Now, since I've been living in Fairbanks, I keep hearing this story pass around about most of the bear attacks not being bear attacks at all. I found most of the story is childish and inconsistent, but there is one that's caught my attention. A few months ago, there were many reported moose and bear attacks. Many biologists were saying that it'd be odd for there to be any bear attacks, because July is the warmest month in Alaska.

This means they have a constant supply of food. Moose attacks, according to the biologists, are very common among hikers because moose are very protective of their young and highly territorial. Around this time is when the stories of the native Alaskans began to circulate quickly. Alaska is one of the only places left in the United States that has tribes still functioning as they would have before any cities were established.

The stories were quite shocking, unbelievable, but very popular, not only in the Alaskan tribes, but in local middle schools, high schools, and even among soldiers at the nearby military installation, Fort Wainwrights. They warn people to stay wary of the woodline and to run west if you see Inuk-Arklark, which roughly translates into human bear. I've always thought their stories to be a bit far-fetched, well, that was until a 64-year-old man was mauled and his way to a family camp. cabin near George Lake. George Lake's only 110 miles away from Fairbanks. The only man was found

roughly 40 metres into the woods near a cabin off a snowy trail with his limbs nearly torn from his corpse. His car was parked on the nearby trail in an unsettling manner. It was a little red car that was parked as if trying to block other vehicles from going any further. Well it's not known in any unclassified reports exactly when he parted the car that way. Was it before, during or after the attack? No one can seem to come up with a good reason as to why he would have done that. It all comes back to the stories the natives were telling everyone, the one about the human bear. My curiosity began to get the better of me.

I couldn't help but ask questions. On a night out in downtown at a bar and grill, they asked a group of native teens, why do they call it the human bear? But all they could give me were vague descriptions. Tall man, long arms that touched ground, snout on face, small eyes. One of the native boys described it this way. I tried to use my imagination to puzzle the image together, but I was a little too drunk, to be honest.

It was getting dark. I needed to call a taxi, and the bar and grill was getting ready to close. I remember as I was standing outside, there were a few building lights on it. The streets were empty, wet from melted snow. and the chilly air made everything seem much more quiet. The reason I remember this night so well, even being moderately intoxicated, was because I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

The taxi came, I got home safely, and slept with the lights on that night. In the morning I realized it was two days after the old man's death, and I found an article about him in the local newspaper. A man killed in bare morning, the title read. It went on about how the one family member that was at the cabin during the time of the attack called the police, and when the police arrived, there weren't any signs of a bear. After a few hours of scouting, troopers noticed a black bear roaming around and killed it. A biologist with the Alaska Department of Fish and Game told authorities that, after examining the bear, she wasn't even sure if it was a black bear attack at all.

The bite wounds and damage done to the victim's body aren't comparative to the bear's anatomy and capability. she said I only ate to find out more after reading the article I had to go to George Lake I made a few calls that Saturday and planned to leave as soon as possible I wanted to make

it back before work on Monday I made sure to tell everyone at work where I was going and I even told a few family members I didn't want to get stranded out there and have no one know where to look when they noticed I've been gone too long pack some snacks clothes

a blanket, fueled up my truck, and drove southeast to George Lake. The further I drove, the more I began to realize that civilization doesn't exist this far away from where I live. The roads became narrower, made of gravel and dirt, but suddenly covered with frothy snow. Fir trees border the rows so closely that I had to slow down for fear of hitting a moose running out of the woods. I've been driving for nearly two hours when I noticed it. I found the car. It was blocking the narrow road just as it described in the report. I stepped out of my truck and got a closer look at the old man's car and a way around it. Well, I thought it would have been removed or something, but they left it here without any barricade tape.

The sun was going down. I hadn't brought a flashlight with me, and the air was beginning to get cold. I figured I could wait in my truck until sunrise and then walked to the cabin using the road. As I made my way back to my truck, I heard a small twig snap nearby. Normally I'd keep calm and collected, assuming it was a moose, but with this being in the place where the old man had got killed, I couldn't help but run. Now I could hear twig snapping and branches cracking faster and louder as I sprinted to my truck. I made it to the truck, opened the door, jumped inside, frantically making sure I locked all of the doors.

I wanted to see what was out there. And I did. There it was, standing partially into the wood line, staring at me with a blank in motion. Beady black eyes, long dog-like snout, arms dangling as if they had no sockets, mangy skin that was spotted grayish and ears similar to that of a bat. My eyes began to water and a cold shiver ran down my spine

as I began to notice its frowning and unnatural twitching. It seemed to be twitching uncontrollably. I reached out for my phone to take a photo of it, but as I looked up, it was gone. I quickly snapped a photo of the car, started in my truck and shifted into reverse. Then it came running from the opposite side of the woodline, its arm dragging against the gravel, flailing and contorting.

It let out a sound similar to a dog, but much deeper. I'm glad I drove away when I did, if not sooner, and that's one image I will never forget. A few weeks later I told the authorities about the incidents, omitting the fact that I went there two days after the attack. And they took me to speak with a biologist that was assigned to the investigation of the old man's attack.

I described to her the animal-like creature that had stalked me, and she looked me in the eye and said, you've missed out on a lot of school young man while I felt she was insulting my intelligence I asked her politely what she meant she responded with you most likely saw a brown bear and it was dark outside

and you could have imagined things on the bear that weren't really there most people get very shocked in this way so it's understandable miss I know I might not know as much about bears as you do but I do know the bears don't run with just their hind legs. I said to her as I stood up to leave.

She looked up at me with the most wide expression I'd ever seen. Her eyes appeared to have watered up as she clicked her pen repeatedly. Before I left the room, I remember she whispered to herself, Oh, it can be. He played until his fingers bled. David didn't like Alaska. It was cold. all the time. There were times when you didn't see the sun for weeks at a time and you had to use

a snobber bill to get groceries. But worst of all was his school. The people there were strange to say the least. Well today but it wasn't unusual for any school to have at least one small group of people that thought life was pain. Those few misinformed teenagers would wear black all over no matter the temperature, have at least eight piercings, a few tattoos and long hair. They'd separate themselves from the rest and talk about death and how it didn't come fast enough. David was never bothered by this, but at his new school, there weren't just a few of them. It was everyone. It had made David very uncomfortable from the start.

He was a Catholic from Southern California, and all the kids in his new school carried pentagrams and had pale skin. Needless to say, David had a hard time making friends. After the first few days, someone finally spoke to him. Meredith had a surprisingly girly voice for the way she dressed, and looked like she'd be attractive if she chose to dress normally and maybe spend some time in the sun. David actually thought she was very interesting and intelligent for a sophomore. As the weeks went by, David and Meredith became fairly good friends.

Everyone looked at them both, as if they were an abomination when they ate lunch together, but neither cared. Eventually, Meredith thought it would be okay to introduce David to Drake. Drake wasn't exactly like everyone else. He was actually muscular rather than seemingly malnourished. Your blood-red contacts which made him look like some creature from hell and he always had an electric guitar on his back. David thought this was insignificant compared to what happened when they shook hands.

It wasn't like being shocked, but it was close. At the moment David grasped Drake's hand, he felt weak as he was weak, Because if he was going to faint, the feeling stopped as soon as he released, but David was still a little freaked out. He spent the rest of the day without saying much. David decided the next day, after some really terrible nightmares, to say something to Meredith. He seemed to have caught her off guard for a moment, but then Meredith quickly dismissed everything as David's imagination. He gradually let it go, thinking maybe she was right, but kept his distance from Drake. As things returned to normal, or at least what was considered normal, David was preparing himself

for the whole concept of not seeing the sun for almost a month. He really had trouble coping with the idea, but Meredith reassured him that he'd adjust without a hitch. Meredith did give David something to look forward to, despite his initial apprehension. She told him that it was sort of a tradition for Drake and his band to put on a rock concert in the gymnasium during the 15th day of what she called. the darkness. According to her, Drake played a couple dozen songs, everyone partied, and it was a great time. Well, at first, David didn't want to go. He hadn't forgotten how he felt when he shook

Drake's hands. Surely, he thought, being around him in an exciting environment would be even worse. Even if it wasn't, David had some suspicion that the concert was secretly some kind of cult gathering. And Meredith quickly convinced him otherwise. Finally, the sun went down and it didn't come back. David had watched the last sunsets, as if it will be his last. Meredith had convinced him to go to the concert, and he was slowly growing accustomed to his commitment, but something still didn't sit quite right. Not just the kids, but the whole town seemed to be on the verge of generating its own thunderstorm.

Everyone seemed to be excited about the concerts. or David didn't think the adults would be interested in Drake's style, but he was obviously wrong. The 15th day finally arrived. Someone kept track of when the sun was supposed to come up, and David had never seen Meredith so energized. She seemed to be ready to explode with anticipation, talking non-stop and explaining how well David would finally fit in once everyone realized that he wasn't afraid of them. David wasn't quite as excited, but he did somehow look forward to it. The entrance to the school gymnasium was congested with all 900 of the town's inhabitants, besides David's parents, trying to get in. David could hear music being pumped over the loud speaker to satisfy the waiting crowd until Drake and his band took to the stage.

He didn't recognise the music, but it was definitely popular with the locals, whoever it was. Everyone sang a lot. David and Meredith got in just as the lights dimmed, and a roar erupted from the crowd. The band took the stage one member at a time, all except for Drake. Then, as the drummer started to pound on his set, an electric guitar began sounding from backstage. Drake walked slowly onto the stage, his hair hanging over his face as he watched his fingers plucked the strings. He was dressed in a solid black suit and tie, completely focused on his guitar. Despite his strange choice of wardrobe, David actually liked what he was hearing.

reminded him of Angus Young. David was enjoying himself, actually starting to follow the beat on the edge of jumping up and down. And then things started getting weird. David stopped moving for a moment, taking a deep breath. He'd started to feel a little loopy, similar to the time he'd tried marijuana in his uncle's basement. He didn't like the feeling and decided to take a break. He started searching for Meredith to tell her he was going to get some fresh air. but he never found her.

The guitar solo picked up pace as David looked around. He found himself in a corner and then turned around to face the crowds. What he saw was like something out of a horror film. Everyone had stopped dancing or moving at all. Each person was gazing at the stage like a werewolf at the full moon. Their pupils turning cloudy and white, as if they were in a trance. At first David thought it was a hallucin. hallucination from something he'd inhaled, but he couldn't find anyone smoking and he hadn't consumed

anything that could have been drugged. He stood there, dumbstruck for a moment, as the realization of what was happening finally came to him. The entire event was definitely some kind of cult ritual, but on an entirely different level. The guitar's rhythm changed again, and David looked up at Drake. Drake's hair was covering his face, and his fingers were bleeding, smearing blood all over the guitar frets. Then David noticed that unless Drake was standing on a glass plate, he was floating

about an inch off of the ground. All of the other band members had stopped playing. Or David had officially had enough. There was something supernatural going on, and it definitely wasn't from the light end of the spectrum. David was probably some kind

of sacrifice, or perhaps the next intended converts. Either way, he wanted neither. He ran for the door As he stumbled out the way he'd come in He fell to his knees and vomited in the snow Maybe it was the high he'd experienced inside But David felt like he needed to do something extreme

And stop what was going on inside He fumbled for his keys And trudged his way back to his four-wheel drive David got back to the gymnasium About an hour later Tears in his eyes He'd reconvinced himself To go through with what he was doing

A thousand times on the slow drive back and he knew he was sacrificing everything. He was worried about Meredith as well, but he deduced that she had most likely been setting the trap for him all along, pretending to like him. David knew that he was meant to stop it, even though he hadn't noticed the dark clouds beginning to spiral overhead in the night. He thought about the life on the run he was about to commit to

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slash creep. Hi, my name's Dustin, and I have a story I need to get off my chest. It's lived with me for a long time now, festering within my being. It haunts me, and this is the reason why I'm afraid of blackouts.

It all started on a Saturday night. My parents were out on one of their date nights, and I got to stay home alone. I'm an only child, so I don't have to babysit any little kids while they're away. They had a date night every Saturday. I believe they were trying to mend a broken marriage. I didn't care, though. If they didn't want to be together anymore, they should just get a divorce. That's my view on the whole thing.

They eventually would get a divorce after I graduated from high school, saying that they didn't want to affect my academics with their inability to get along, but I was awake for their nightly arguments and heard how they fell about one another, how they couldn't stand being with each other. These arguments made me feel horrible about myself. I felt like, well, I was the reason they'd stay together, and later on I'd learn I was wrong. I was wrong. bright. But, well, that's all beside the point. I live in a town next to a small lake. Alone in my room, I was watching a horror movie in the dark, as I usually am on a Saturday night. Night of the Living Dead was playing on my tube TV, one of those old television sets from the 90s, you know, the ones with the big backs. Anyway, I was laying on my bed in flannel pajama bottoms and a baggy black t-shirt. Eagly, waiting to look out of my telescope that was pointed in the direction of my neighbor's window.

I was waiting for Rebecca to get into her pajamas. She was oblivious when it came to her window, which was perfect for a young pubescent, peeping Tom like myself. I know, I know that I was wrong for doing it, but hormones make you do some awful things, like steal your dad's porno mags and hide them underneath your bed. The clock in my room read 10 o'clock. It was time to get into position. I moved from my bed to the chair in front of the telescope and peered into it. There she was, sitting on her bed, taking off the makeup that she didn't even need to apply.

She was beautiful without it. She had long, blonde hair and perfect dark eyebrows. Her eyes were a showstopper, and her breasts were quite large. It wasn't time yet, I decided. So I turned my chair towards the TV and continued watching Night of the Living Dead. It was at that point of the movie when the zombies are approaching the barricaded house that the main characters are hiding in. Then, the lights and television flickered twice, and then died.

I jumped at the sudden loss of electricity. The house had lost electricity before, so I knew what to do. My father had shown me how to flip the circuit breaker, causing the lights to come back on. It was pretty simple. I remember him showing me how to do it. The first time he showed me, I wasn't paying much attention. It was almost time to get into position then, too, and that's all I had on my mind. The next time the power went out, he told me to go do it.

And I didn't know which switch to flip. So he had to show me once again. Well, now I knew how to do it. So I grabbed my maglight, a pretty strong flashlight that fit easily in my hand, from the counter that was set up beside the basement door just for this occasion, and walked down the steps into the basement. The flashlight flickered on and off. I slapped at it, and the light focused back on.

I used to use this light for flashlight tag with my friends. we had a lot of fun running around and tagging each other with our lights. I remember tripping, falling on the cement, getting some wicked raspberries on my knees. The light flow out of my hands and fell to the ground. Luckily, it hadn't broken, but occasionally it would flicker off and then on again. Eventually, my friends and I got older,

and video games and girls were the only things on our minds. So the days of flashlight tag were behind us. And now the only use this maglite got was when the power went out. Walking up to the circuit box, I opened it up and tried to remember which switch it was. When I found the one I was looking for, I flipped it and... Well, nothing happened. I flipped two more times back and forth, and still no power. I went back up the stairs and peered out of the living room window,

seeing if anyone else on the block was out of electricity. The lamp post was dark, and the neighbours were conversing outside, talking to one another about why the lights had gone out, or so I assumed. The neighbours seemed nice, always waving to me when they caught me looking their way, but I never dared interact with them. Instead, I opened the window a tad and eaves dropped on what they were saying. From what I gathered, I was right to assume everyone's power was out. One neighbor said he'd seen the transformer blow.

Oh, great, I thought. It would take forever for someone to come and fix it. I looked at the grandfather clock standing gracefully in the living room and realized what I'd been missing out on. I ran back upstairs and looked through my telescope. I could barely see into her room with how dark it was, but I could just make out her pulling up her pajama bottoms, completing her bedtime attire.

Oh, I cursed. Walking from the peeping window to the other window, the one facing the street, I went to see what the neighbours were up to. A crowd of people had now formed just in front of my house. I could see the Robinsons from two doors down, Rebecca's dad, who was my neighbour to the right, and Dan, who was my labour to the left. There were a few other people down there, but I couldn't make them out due to them wearing jackets with hoods flipped over the top of their heads.

I saw one of the Robinson's point toward the edge of the woods, and I followed to where her finger was pointing. What appeared to be lights littered the woods edge. I went back to the peeping window, grabbed my telescope and set it up in the front of the window. Once it was set up, I adjusted and peered into it. And I froze when I finally got a good look at them. Standing at the edge of the woods were tall, pitch-black figures.

They had bulbous heads like barn owls. Their eyes were like painted over globes, white as a plain sheet of paper. The hands of the creatures were exceptionally large, connected to arms that fell listlessly to their sides. Other than that, they had no other features. They just stood there, swaying back and forth in place. watching. That's it. I'm going to get my gun, Rebecca's dad announced, turning back to his house. He had a temper that was well known around the area. I live next door to them, but you could hear the arguments between Rebecca's parents from miles away. And that's not even the worst part.

He would get mad at little things. I once saw him kick his lawn gnome over the fence because it fell over when he walked past it. I would imagine the Incredible Hulk turns into him when he gets really, really mad, and that's why nobody messed with him. He came back out with the rifle he used for hunting bucks. If one of those mothers sets foot on my lawn, I'm blowing his goddamn head off.

You hear? The neighbours chatted, not taking their eyes off the creatures on the other side of the road. The creatures stared back, swaying back and forth. ever so slightly. Then I realized that these things weren't blinking.

They just stared with their glowing white eyes. It was impossible to tell exactly what they were looking at, for none of their bright eyes had pupils. I honestly couldn't tell you what these things were,

but I can tell you what they weren't. Human. Then, one of the creatures started to walk forward. They seemed sluggish, but their strides were long, and it wouldn't take too many steps for it to make it to my neighbours. It stepped off the grass and onto the street's pavement, still slowly walking.

I aimed my telescope back at the other creatures, and another began to take strides, and then another. They moved slowly, like the zombies in the movie I'd been watching. Rebecca's dad aimed his rifle at the closest creature and declared that he'd shoot if it took another step towards him. It didn't even flinch. Just kept picking up its long legs and bringing them forward, coming closer and closer.

He shot his rifle up into the air in a warning shot. The Robinsons, Dan and the others put their hands over their ears, ducking a little in surprise. I did the same. A loud ringing went through my ears. After a few seconds, I looked out the window, for I no longer needed the scope to see the thing that was striding toward Rebecca's dad. He took a few steps back, clearing room between him and the unflinching creature, and pointed his rifle at it. But it wasn't even phased. I could see now that it was taller than I'd expected.

It had to be at least seven feet tall. all. I warned you, Rebecca's dad yelled, pulling the trigger again, hitting the thing right in the chest. The thing is, that's exactly what had happened. The shot went right through the thing. No wound showed on the creature, not even a speck of blood hit the pavement. The bullets went right through the thing. It took another stride forward. Now, mere inch, is away from the kneeling man who exchanged a face of anger for a face of fear. It was coming right at him. Rebecca's dad squeed his eyes shut and hugged his rifle. And that's when the thing moved right past him. Rebecca's father opened his eyes and turned around, astonished that he was

still alive, but nervous at the direction the thing was going in. It was heading for his house. The thing opened the door to his home and let itself in. And that's when his fatherly instincts kicked in and he went after the shadowed beast. I looked at the other creatures that were just now crossing the street. Then I heard another gunshot and a scream. Rebecca's scream coming from next door. I grabbed my telescope and aimed it at her window. After adjusting the scope accordingly, like I had many times in the past,

I peered into it and viewed the horror that ensued. Rebecca had lit candles in her bedroom. The light from the flames of the candles illuminated the walls with their flickering wicks. But when the thing entered the room, all the candles went out like a gust of wind had blown by. She was screaming, throwing objects at the shadow-like creature. A lamp hurled towards it, then a book followed by a harmless pillow and whatever. else she could find close to her, but everything went straight through the creature. The creature just stood there. Another book went flying towards the thing and once again

passed through it. Then the creature extended its arm towards Rebecca and took one slow stride forward. I remember hearing a scream and wondering where her father was this whole time. The thing then put its hand on his shoulder, At her screaming came to an end. Her eyes rolled back, and her arms fell to her sides. She became completely still, even in the face of the thing. Then she walked in front of the creature, with a thing in tow, and they made their way towards the door.

Then the thing turned and looked directly at me. I shuddered, backing away from the telescope. The thing looked at me with its noxious. stare. I looked back to the telescope, but they'd already made their way out the door. I started to panic. It saw me. Was I next? I looked out the window to the street and saw the other dark mass creatures entering the homes of my neighbors. I also saw Rebecca walking towards the woods with a creature following close behind like a shadow. As more creatures began to emerge from the woods, Other neighbours began to follow suit.

I saw one creature following behind a little girl a few doors over. One followed close behind the Robinson boy, and Dan's husband had one following him, all heading towards the woods. While I was so focused on this, I didn't even realise that one was entering my own home. I heard the downstairs door shut, and I froze. It was coming for me. I was next.

Apprehensively, I looked around the room for a quick hiding spot. I bumped into my dresser and the maglight rolled underneath my bed. I got into the push-up position and followed the light at the back wall, beneath where I slapped. Moving magazines and old socks, I grabbed the flashlight and pressed myself against the wall, waiting for the thing to enter my room. And then, it enters. Being under the bed and backed up against the wall didn't give me a good field of vision. Its pitch black legs moved into the centre of my room.

I imagined it looking around the room for me, seizing me and turning me into a lifeless zombie like Rebecca. Its knees bent down and hit the floor, not making any noise as they made contact. And then it looked underneath the bed. Its eyes were full circles, like a full moon on a dark night. Its bright white eyes blared at me, but extended its arm and began to reach. I pressed against the wall as hard as I could as its arm reached for me.

Its arm seemed to be growing longer and longer. I stared at it, trying to fit its bulbous head underneath the bed as its mitt of a hand kept moving forward, stretching out towards me. I closed my eyes tightly, hoping for a miracle. I could feel its hand in my vicinity. And then the miracle I was waiting for happened. The flashlight flickered on and covered the shadowy figure in light. It winced and opens its mouth wide. Like its eyes, the mouth shone with a bright white light,

laying out a deep foghorn yell. I cut my ears as it. cried out in what I assumed was pain. Its face began to crack and it moved out from underneath the bed. Let out another bellowing yell, then left my room and continued out the door and out of my house. When I knew it was safe, I crawled out with my savior, the flashlight and peered out the window at the shadowy creatures. They were leaving our suburb for the woods, leading their captured victims towards the lake. I ran out of the house and passed my gawking neighbours, who were left in awe, not knowing what to do.

I screamed out repeatedly. They don't like the light, as I made my way toward the lake. I ran into branches and tripped a few times over bushes, but eventually I made it out of the woods to the edge of the lake, where my fellow neighbours stood still with fear. I went to say my signature phrase, saying, they don't know the light, but trailed off as I saw what everyone else was staring at. The creatures were walking over the shoulders of the neighbours and into the water, and the neighbours were willingly sinking.

They kept walking into the water until their heads dipped below the surface, and then under, until the only thing that remained of our neighbours were ripples in the water. After all this happened We waited for what seemed like an hour But it felt like an eternity No bodies floated to the surface A few of the neighbours swam into the lake After the danger subsided

But there was no way they were going to find anything My neighbours called the police And people fire up missing persons reports But we all knew were they gone Eventually They drained the lake to find the bodies of the lost neighbors. But nothing was discovered. No bodies were found, and that left even more questions than answers. Rebecca's dad was found unconscious on the

floor of his living room. Apparently, he'd had a heart attack and slipped into a coma. But I honestly believe the creatures had a hand in it. His extended family decided to pull the plug on him after they determined him to be brain dead. He died a year after the hour. He died a year after the anniversary of Rebecca's disappearance. It's safe to say I no longer live by any lakes since this incident. I became obsessed with the idea that monsters lived in the lake and they were coming to get me. My parents eventually moved far away. I have trouble sleeping now because of the nightmares that have stuck with me because of that event.

I have dreams where the thing grabs me and leads me to the lake, drowning me. I also can hear that foghorn bellow echoing in my head. I don't think I could ever forget that sound. I know I'm lucky to be alive today. If my flashlight hadn't flickered on when it did, I don't think I'd be able to retell this story to you. So, if you live near a lake, be forewarned. They emerge from the woods, and they don't like the light.

Well, it's beer o'clock, ladies and gentlemen, the doctor's favourite time of the day, and right now I'm imagining myself figuratively being transported to a cosy little Belgian beer cafe, courtesy of beer 52. So, how does a free case of eight Belgian beers sound to you? Craft beers, that is. Celebrate the country's ancient and world-famous beer expertise with a case of eight craft beers from some of their finest breweries for free. all you have to do is go to beer52.com slash creep

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A difficult job, but someone has to do it. And this month is a case from one of the world's foremost beer nation, Belgium. The selection pits traditional trappist beers brewed by monks in monasteries against ultra-modern craft beers. And if you don't like dark beer, well, just choose the light option. It's as easy as that. Each case also comes with their award-winning beer magazine ferment, as well as a tasty snack to enjoy with your beer. And the great thing is, there's no minimum commitment.

You can just take the free case, try the beers and see what you think. And if it's not for you, you can pause or cancel at any time. beer 52.com slash creep to claim your free case of eight craft beers. One more time, that's beer 52.com slash creep. Years ago, when the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were still raging, I had the opportunity to attend the U.S. Army cold weather indoctrination course in Black Rapids, Alaska. It was the harshest, most unforgiving training available, and I took pride in the fact that my chain of command had recommended me for the school. I was a range of medic at the time,

and I'd already had the best medical training available, first attending the Special Operations Combat Medics course, and eventually earning my combat medical badge on my first deployment to Afghanistan in 2002. I even had experienced treating cold weather injuries on the battlefield. But as soon as I arrived in Black Rapids, I knew that the cold, remote mountains of Afghanistan, Afghanistan had nothing on winter in eastern Alaska.

The Richardson Highway ran from Prince William Sound in the south to Fort Greeley and beyond. On a clear day, you could see the Black Rapids Glacier and the awesome heights of the range east of Denali National Park. The scenery on that first drive to post was incredible, to say the least. After I arrived, we spent a week in a classroom going over the plans for the first field exercise for the course. There are a dozen of us, representing every rank from specialist to major. A hardened sergeant major named Patterson led the glass. He had his special forces tab, combat infantryman badge, and multiple combat jumps on his parachute dispatch. For the uninitiated, soldiers size each other up by the tabs, badges, badges, and patches on their uniforms. Patterson was easily the most

decorated guy in the room. For our first training exercise, we were tasked with spending two nights out on the glacier, which was just west of the highway, in order to acclimate to the sub-zero temperatures. Eventually, we would have to ski, climb and maneuver, so this first exercise was supposed to be as easy as it gets. We headed out one evening in three of the old, Swedish small unit tracks. It was already dark and pushing minus 20 Fahrenheit. I was in the track with Patterson, a cavalry medic named Reed, and a young second lieutenant named Joki.

I detected Jokey's accent, but couldn't quite place it. I knew he hadn't grown up in America, and I was surprised that the Sergeant Major had taken a liking to him. Usually, butter bars wilted under the grizzle glare of senior non-commissioned officers. "'Sir, they say this glacier once stretched all the way to the highway,' said Patterson. "'I'd bet you've seen bigger ones back home.' "'Sargent Major. I've lived in the United States since I was a boy,' said Jokie. "'I'd have to ask my parents.' "'I wanted to know where Jokie was from, but didn't dare speak, as I was a lowly sergeant at the time.

"'Well then, sir, if you haven't been out on the glacier, in the far north. There's some tremendous cold weather phenomena out there, said Patterson. It can be breathtaking or even bizarre. We continued. I couldn't make out much of the surrounding terrain, especially since we were in the middle track, but I had begun to see flashes of the Aurora Borealis in the distance. Sergeant, I'd like to pair with you for this exercise, said Jockey.

I heard you have experience in cold weather medicine. Roger, sir, I said. Normally, an experienced soldier would want to be paired with another seasoned veteran at a difficult school and might even go so far as to ignore a second lieutenant who wasn't in his chain of command. Jokey might have been fresh out of ROTC or OCS, but he had completed Ranger School, so he had a leg up on many of his peers. "'You were in the Battle of Takuragar,' he asked me. I looked at the front seat of the track, where I saw Patterson and read noticeably grimace.

The season soldiers knew it wasn't an appropriate question. It's hard to say why. It's kind of like going up to a woman who's holding her baby and saying, Oh, I bet that thing heard coming out. Roger, sir. Christ, the old Patterson. As the track came to a lurching halt, as everyone embraced for an impact that never came.

What's he stopping for? As Patterson reached for the radio receiver, Reed yelled to look toward the glacier. Sergeant Major, the lights! Jokie and I both leaned forward. The smooth plain of the glacier was illuminated in an otherworldly green, like a holiday-themed landing strip. I've never seen that before.

He quietly spoke into the receiver "'How you see in this, Major?' But only static returned on the radio. He tried hailing both tracks for the next ten minutes or so, but no one replied. Sergeant Major, I think they got out. It looks like the doors of the lead track are open, said Jokie. "'I see,' said Patterson.

"'Guess we're getting out,' said Reed. Roger, said Patterson. Patterson left the track running, and we hopped out to the vehicle. The cold polar air chapped our faces before we hit the hard pack of the glacial road. We went up to investigate the lead vehicle, but the Major and his three soldiers had already gone. Would you look at that? said Patterson. I turned from the vehicle and spotted four forms in the distance. approximately 40 yards ahead.

It was so frigid that when I inhaled, it felt like tiny pinpricks in my lungs. As we got closer, I was astounded, shocked even. It was our guys, and they were naked. Each man was cast in a greenish hue from one of four glowing orbs that hovered nearby. It had been tough to see the spectral light sooner, because the glacial plane itself had also been illuminated in that brilliant sion. Major, yelled Patterson. What in God's name are you doing out here?

We began running in earnest. I was anticipating some form of hypothermic event. I knew how common it was for men experiencing hypothermia to strip nude. Perhaps their tracks heater had been busted, and the major had kept them pressing on. Now, it certainly wouldn't take long for hypothermia to set in, especially with the guys out on the glacier stark naked. Halt! screamed the second lieutenant. We all paused, as we were trained to do first,

before asking questions regarding the authority of the individual giving the command. What do you mean, Halt? asked Patterson, coldly. He looked like he was about to drive his fist into Jokie's nose. Reed and I merely stood by, anticipating Joki's imminent demise. Sergeant Major, the orbs, there are Finnish legends of the Vivutuli, floating lights that lead men to their graves, said Jokie. Patterson disregarded Jokie and continued toward his men, with Reed following close behind. For some reason, I hesitated. I don't know why, but I was lucky.

Not moments later, Patterson and Reed were enveloped by two glowing green orbs, which appeared to emerge from the glacier itself. The men were overtaken and carried off toward the other soldiers. Lights even seemed to lift the men off their feet. Sergeant Major, I yelled, hoping it might shake him out of whatever had taken hold. "'Follow me. We don't have much time,' said Joki, taking hold of my arm and pulling me back toward the tracks. We ran first to the rear vehicle, hoping there might be some sign of the other forsome, but once we got close enough, we could see that their doors had also been left open.

I dreaded what we might find inside, and was relieved when Jokie stopped short of investigating. My lungs were on fire from the cold. I hadn't acclimated at all, having been in Alaska for such a short amount of time. Sergeant, let's get back in our track, said Jokie. I think I can drive it. Our track was still rumbling away, since Patterson had left it running, and it wasn't long before we were warming up inside.

Is there enough room to turn around? I asked as Jokie lurched the track backward, and then forward at a slight angle. I don't know. Jockey had the track turned perpendicular to the glacial road, but I could no longer make out any of the men or their ghost lights. There was too much background light emerging from the glacier, or even reflected from above.

I wasn't sure which was cracked, but I knew I was more frightened in that moment than I'd ever been in battle. Okay, let's go, exclaimed Jockey. He almost sounded giddy, as he had already had us turned around and was navigating past the rear track. Moments later, we were on open road, following the path we'd carved from the highway. I noticed four orbs in the distance, out over the barren white, south of the glacier itself. Well, I couldn't make out anything beneath the four discrete lights,

but in my heart, I knew that four of my classmates were likely out there, freezing to death out on the wastes. Every so often, a greenish bubble would form on the glacial surface near the track. I didn't mention it to Joki, but I'm certain he noticed too. It was the sort of game that kids play under duress, that if we don't acknowledge the horrible thing about to overcome us, if we bury our terror, perhaps we'll be left alone. We were both overcome with risk.

relief when we finally made it back to the highway without further incident. We didn't bother transferring to the transport truck that had brought us from our installation. Joki, white knuckled us back to the post in that slow track, and our entrance and debriefing caused quite a scene around the barracks. The bodies of our fellow soldiers were recovered from the glacier early the next morning, only hours after Jokke and I had made our escape. They were found nude. just as we said they'd be,

but the recovery squads hadn't encountered anything out of the ordinary. The doctors at Fort Greeley said that our ghostlights, our hallucinations, were likely caused by the early stages of hypothermia, that the other soldiers sounded like textbook cases of the manic episodes brought on by advanced hypothermia. They said, Jokie and I were lucky, that our bodies and minds had been heartier than our classmates.

Now, I don't know that they aren't correct, but I don't believe that what we experienced out on that glacier had anything to do with hypothermia. The Alaskan curse. Remember, it always comes from the sea. Alak murmurs as we sit around the roaring fire, staring me right in the eyes and shaking her bony finger in my direction. In the far stretches of America, my family had only just arrived home from Cousin Pannuk's funeral after a full day's travel and Arlach and I sit across from each other in front of the fireplace. Although this is one of the first funerals I've attended, I find it strange that there's neither a body nor burial during this service. And afterwards when meeting with my relatives here in the far north of Alaska for the first time in years, we're told that we are strictly forbidden from bringing up cousin's name, even among each other. While we played nobody, not even cousin's siblings, talked about him during his life, let

alone his death, and I was more confused than ever. On the 18-hour car ride home, Mother and Father sat in silence, but when we neared the outskirts of our city, I asked them what had happened to Cousin Panuk. Mother went pale and told me that I am never to bring Cousins' name up again, that they will tell me what happened when I'm older and ready. My grandmother, my Arnach, as we call her, came to live with us in the city many years ago. I woke in the middle of the night shortly after we arrived home by the subtle knocking of Arnac at my door. She brought me to the living room before making sure mother and father were asleep,

sitting in her old rocking chair before pointing at the chair across from her and motioning for me to do the same. The ear, Imakum, Majoch, always comes from the sea, Arnach repeats, getting a stern look as she reaches out to grab my wrist. Her grasp on my arm isn't too uncomfortable, but I can feel the cold metal of a ring pressed against my skin. What's an imakou, my juke, I ask, puzzled. I don't know the Inuit language as well as the rest of my family, and I've never heard

this word before. It is the reason your cousin is gone, she states, her grip around my wrist tightening. I can do nothing but stare, wide-eyed. Finally, it's time to get some answers around here. I think to myself, what happened to cousin? Um, this thing killed cousin Panuk, I ask. No, she whispers, with a tone of fear in her voice. Your cousin's gone, but his body's still alive.

What do you mean, Arnok? I question her once more. We went to his funeral yesterday. We went to his funeral to honour his life, but he is not dead. Your parents don't want you to know until you're older, so you'll take it seriously, but I think you're old enough to understand. Tell me what happened, I plead. I'm ready, I swear. Arnach slightly relaxes in her chair before continuing,

taking nervous glances over her shoulder to make sure my parents are not coming down the hallway to scold us for being awake so late. She begins by telling me part of the history and tradition of our people. which I already know very well, but still patiently wait before she gets to the part that I want to hear. My parents told me about the Imak Mujak when I was just a girl not much younger than yourself, she said, and the mention of the Imakumajuk immediately got my attention fully. My sister and I were playing in our camp when we got a whiff of the most awful stench that we ever encountered, a smell of rotting fish, garbage and stinking meats.

Not a minute later there was a commotion in the camp. The men and women of my clan were running to and fro, desperately packing up what they could. This included my parents, who quickly scooped up my sister and I to place on the sled. We hadn't even packed up all of our supplies before we took off, leaving untold amounts of precious meat and animal skins behind. I didn't see it for myself, but my father told me that, I thought your father died when you were young, Anak. I cut her off in my curiosity. Yes, little one, but this was before my father passed on. She informed me before trailing off.

Took her a few seconds to regain her train of thought and continue where she left off. Now, where was I? Right, when we were safe in the sled, as when father informed us, it was an Imakumachuk, and that the great spirit sub-blessed us in Nuk with good sense of smell, so that we may flee before it arrives. Her rough and twisted hands were beginning to hurt me now as I locked on and the pressure increased. What is it, Anak?

What is it? I begged her to give me details. The Imakumajuk is a terrible creature, one I pray you may never see. You must understand those who still live the traditional life, such as Panuk and his family, never take the earth and its creatures for granted. Every single part of every single animal they come across, used for something up in those endless white plains. But when it comes to this, this thing, you don't hunt it or track it.

You wouldn't dare. I thought back to when I was in school, that our homeland in the north had less people or animals than almost anywhere else in the world. And when we drove through the snowy hills with my parents that weekend and saw nothing but trees ice and snow for hours and hours, well, I believed it. If they're not careful and do not take heed, entire camps, entire villages even, can be gone in just a day.

What kind of creature can do this? I interrupted Arnach as I leaned forward to feel the warmth of the crackling fire. Not the beast itself, but those affected by its terrible curse. She continued. The Imakumajuk itself is a hulking thing, the size of two igloos put side by side, with a shell as hard as stone and large spikes covering its bones. This light blue color makes it almost impossible to see in the snow, so it always is best to recognize them by the smell instead, and one thing for certain is that it always emerges

from the sea to hunt. No tribe has ever been able to kill it. I don't even think it can die. And the last thing most people see as the Ima Kulma-Kul-Huk charges at them is its dozens of black eyes staring them down, its countless legs ferociously scuttling across the ice, and its spiny jagic claws snapping and snapping i mean the last thing they see before the change that is change what happens to them the ones that the imakumadritch takes its touch is a curse on arc trembled out one touch is all it takes and your mother your father your child anyone you care about will begin

to forget that they even knew you at all only an hour or so, sometimes less, before they start spitting and howling. Oh, if you're unlucky enough to be near someone with the curse, they'll insist that they're fine. Try to walk on with you if you let them, but it's only a matter of time. You can tell they're fully gone by looking at their eyes, black eyes that never blink and never stop staring at you. She dug her nails into my wrist and yank my arm away. I know that it's an accident that she couldn't control her hands very well for the past few years, but Anak was really frightening me now. I could tell she's nearing tears by the bright reflection coming off the bottom of her eyes. That's what happened to a man in my

clan. He'd forgotten something very important at the camp and went back for it, despite our pleas for him to keep moving with the rest of us. He was adamant about returning, claiming that his ancestors would never forgive him for leaving behind his family heirloom. He came back several hours later, but he was changed. He spat out black chunks from his mouth. He scratched at his skin, leaving behind black and red marks on his face. Oh, but the worst part was his eyes. It started with small shadowy lines around the edges, but soon both of his eyes were nothing but darkness. When he staggered past my sister and eye on the sled, he took off his glove and reached out a hand, dripping in black goo towards us. That's when my father, he staggered past my sister.

and the other men in the clan knew that he needed to go. After telling this part of the story, Anak calmed down a bit and locked her ringed fingers together, moving them closer to the fire for the heat it provided. I thought you'd never seen Imak Kumajuk, I asked Anak. I have never seen a child, but I've seen those. It's cursed with its murky liquid. Their speech becomes jumbled by this terrible affliction, and not soon after, restraining this man my father.

father was forced to gag the fellow to keep all his spitting and stuttering obscenities to a minimum. It had been many generations since our clan had an encounter with the Imakumachuk, but they still knew how to handle any who were cursed. Careful not to touch the cursed man himself, father wrapped him in a large dried seal pelt before tackling him to the ground and binding the skin tightly with help from a few of the strongest men in the clan. They dragged the screaming and delusional man miles and mile through the snow, and although his mouth was covered, I could still hear every word coming from him.

I heard him alternate between begging to be released, begging for death, and then threatening to kill every one of us, all within the span of half an hour, only for him to start all over and repeat that cycle again and again. Well, Anak, is this story really true? I butted into her story to make sure this isn't one of the village legends, like the Kalupalik, made to scare. children who don't listen to their parents.

I wouldn't be telling it to you if it weren't, child. This isn't to scare you. I'm trying to save you. Then, is this what really happened to Cousin Panu? Arnac slowly closed her eyes and nodded her head before continuing. A small tear rolling down her cheek. The men of the village took that cursed man to a local lake that stayed frozen all year long, all the while he was squirming and wriggling about in that sealskin.

My father took a hacksaw, like the ones your aunt and uncle used for cutting snow for the igloos, and cut a circle into the surface of the frozen lake, almost a foot down before hitting water. Alak punctuated this sentence by pulling apart her hands to show me just how thick the ice was. It was difficult work, but eventually they were able to remove the circle of ice and plunged the cursed man into the dark still water. before picking up the ice-plock and covering the hole like a cork. That's why Panuk wasn't buried, I mumbled, finally figuring out why his funeral was so out of the ordinary.

Once one is marked with the curse of the Imakumajok, true death will always escape them. No matter what you do to their body, it will not stop trying to infect others, even if you put a bullet in their head. The only way to keep them from spreading is locking them under, beneath the ice where they can no longer grow their pestilence. We didn't go ice fishing in these small lakes, and the surface was far too thick to crack, so it was perfectly safe for us to walk across its surface.

But I'll never forget the faces of the cursed ones staring bag at us through some of the thinner, clearer parts of the ice. It helps to remember that they're no longer people like us. The fire was beginning to die down now, and the light seemed to dance across Arnach's spot. haughty, wrinkled face. I was starting to think that there was some truth that I would rather not know about. I've heard stories from other villages, though. She pressed on while pulling her hands from the dying fire and rubbing them against her arms. Stories of men snapped in half at the waist by the Imakumadruk's fearsome claws, only to keep dragging themselves through snow and ice,

leaving the toxic, inky gunk wherever he tread. Others that have afflicted with the curse stripped themselves of all their clothing before tearing at their skin and giving chase to their former family, doing anything in their power to spread the curse to all who were near. I can't be certain whether this is rumor or not, but another young boy in a neighboring tribe told me about the time his father came across a blackened head buried in the snow. Only this head didn't have a body. Or its eyes darted around as quickly as any living souls would. And although nothing escaped from its mouth except black drool,

it still opened and closed at a steady pace, chattering its teeth together and clicking its tongue on the roof of its mouth. Anak fumbled with the rings on her fingers nervously and looked at me before resuming. This is what happened to your cousin, she stated. Your cousin and his friends were walking near the water's edge on the beach when they smelled the stench, but they didn't take the warnings to heart. The boys were cursed by the Imakumajuk and ran back to their village to tell their parents. So, Panuk's out there somewhere, I nearly shouted in shock,

underneath one of those frozen lakes. I told you, your cousin Panuk is gone. His body and mind are no longer his to control. I suppose, in a way, though, part of him still exists in that shell of a body. I expect you not to bring up his name after tonight ever again. We are never to speak the names of those afflicted with the curse of Imakumadruk after they are gone, lest someone remember them for how they were in life and attempt to release them from their resting place. We are only to acknowledge them just once and then move on, no matter how

painfully... Just then, Anuk was cut off by the creaking of a door down the hallway, and I nearly jumped as I saw a father step into the living room, where I could be able to be. barely see his face in the dim light of the fire. I had a clink of something falling against the wood floor, as Arnaq quickly stood and addressed her son. Well, I think I'll be going off to bed now, Arnac told father before grabbing her cane and gently hobbling down the hall. I hope you learn something from this story, child.

She yelled after me while entering her room. Father merely stared at me with his arms crossed. I know I'm going to be punished for standing. staying out past my bedtime and speaking of Panok. But I can only hope that Father doesn't find out we were talking about Panokan the Imak Kumajuktu. Father only stands there, one foot in front of the other, without a word escaping from his lips. Um, Anak was just telling me stories of her father when she lived in the North. I blurt out, hoping to end this silence.

But at this, my father's eyebrow is instantly raised and he tilts his head. Oh, really? "'tells with her father,' the stern man says, while slowly walking forward, "'and I begin to panic, knowing that he can always tell when I lie. "'Father walks past me, grabs another log and places it on the fire, "'and I know that I'm really in for it now. "'I'm certain that he plans to have a long conversation with me "'and scold me for listening to Arnac.

"'After he has a seat, I break almost immediately, "'telling him some of the things Arnach told me about Punnok, and the time her village was attacked by a monster before her father rescued her. Father only shakes his head and places a hand above his brow before letting out a sigh and leaning forward. So, it's really not true, then. The Imakumajuk really is just a story to scare me. Isn't it, Papa?

With the mention of the Imakumajuk, father's face becomes twisted in anger and his eyes narrow. I think maybe I made a mistake, and now both are not. Anak and father will be angry with me, but his scowl quickly goes, and he instead tells me to continue. Tells me that he's not angry. He just wants to know what she told me. Her account the entire story Anak told me of the Imakumajuk.

Careful not to leave out any details, and end by telling him that I was sorry and I won't ask about Panuk again. Once more, Father lets out a large half of air before continuing. Anak's story is wrong, son. He explains to me in a sad, shaky voice. So, Pannock wasn't really cursed by the Imakumajuk. I let out, but I'm very confused at this point. No, he was, and the Imakumajuk is real, but... He takes a pause before continuing.

Look, your Arnak doesn't always tell the truth, okay? Sometimes, because she's so old, she mixes things up, or maybe she just believes what she wants to believe, but it wasn't a strange man from her clan that they buried in the ice that day. My eyes finally drift down and I glanced towards where I heard the metallic clink from earlier when Anak sat up. I get out of my chair and lean down to inspect the object before picking it up. The same metal ring that was pressed against my skin while Anak was holding on to me. Father reaches his hand out for me to give it to him and I drop it into his palm.

You're not in trouble. Father says to me while standing up and pointing at my room, Why don't you go to bed now, son? I have to return this to the family chest where it belongs. Owls at dawn. A rumble-worn from her evening nap. She jumped from her bed to see everything in her room sway. As she hurried out of her bedroom, her brother's bolted past her.

They went to the kitchen and all was still shaking. She grabbed a little brother, Thomas, and they hid under the kitchen table. A few plates fell and shattered overhead, and then the rattle stopped. She checked on Mary, the baby of the family, and saw she had a slight bruise from where a book could fall and hit her, but nothing too serious. Mary wailed, and Dawn picked her up from her crib and bounced her on her hip. Her hands trembled as she slowly opened the door. A water main had cracked and was pouring into the street where the road had completely buckled. It had looked as though the hand of God had come down and folded the street in half.

The earthquake had spared the trailer where her family lived from the damage. Inside there were a few broken dishes and picture frames, but nothing too great. It had crumpled the houses on the neighbouring street to the ground, and giant cracks were in the road. Tom, I need you to watch Mary. I'm going to go over to the shop. and makes your mom and dad are safe. It's too dangerous for you to travel alone, he said. I need to know that they're okay, she said while handing off the toddler to her 10-year-old brother.

I'll be back as soon as I can. With that, she snatched some sandwiches her mom had made for lunch from the refrigerator and lay them in a basket. She gripped a large nickel-plated flashlight, put on her heavy red coat, and dashed out the door. The air was icy and the ground still at the door. a healthy amount of snow, but it was thawing in the march air. It was already dark at 6pm, but that's how Alaska was. It was where Dawn lived, and she would not have traded it for anything, except for today. All the beauty had folded in half. Trees jutted out of the road and rubble lay everywhere. She turned on her flashlight to better sea in the dark and rushed towards

downtown Anchorage to the repair shop her parents ran. Stopping to keep her parents ran. Stopping to catch her breath, her flashlight caught glowing eyes. A giant brindle wolf jumped out in front of her, knocking the basket out of her hands. The wolf went over to the sandwiches and devoured them. When Dawn ran to reach for a basket, the wolf snapped at her and continued eating. There was a gunshot overhead, and the wolf ran off in the other direction. Another shot fired. Please, stop. It was probably just hungry, screamed Dawn.

"'Ah, the wolf looked like he was attacking you,' said a man's voice in a slow draw. "'No, it just went in my sandwiches. "'So much for lunch.' "'Side dawn as she picked up the basket. "'Sir, I have to go downtown. "'I have to make sure my parents are okay.' "'Why are you going alone?' he asked. "'My folks run a repair shop downtown.

"'My brother's at home with my baby sister. "'We're all right, but it looks like the phone lines are down.' "'All correct. but why don't I go with you? The earthquakes made the rose dangerous, and up here you're not on top of the food chain, he replied, nodding in the wolf's direction. Dawn nodded as she picked up her basket.

She saw that man was skinny with an enormous hat and thick glasses. They both walked over the craggy streets together. My name's Hansen, Robert Hansen, he said, holding out his hand. Dawn Michaels, she said, giving his hand a firm shape. "'That's some coach you have on.' "'Oh, my folks got it for me at J.C. Pennings for my birthday. "'I turned 13 a month ago.' "'Is that so?'

"'Dorn nodded and hurried up ahead, "'but the street had shattered, leaving a massive sinkhole. "'What do I do now?' sobbed dawn. "'I know a way,' he said, nodding his head past the rubble. "'Thank you, Mr. Hanson.' "'He grabbed her hand firmly and pulled away from the road. towards the deep pine forest. Are you sure you recognise the way, sir? asked Dawn.

Of course I do. Well, are you sure the woodlands are the best course? As you said, we're not on top of the food chain. There may be bears, wolves, or angry moose out that way. Dawn followed Mr. Hanson into the woods as the ground rumbled once more, knocking them both to their knees. Soil tumbled down the steep ravine. Robert got to his feet and helped Dawn up.

He led her down a path into the forest. Debris lay everywhere. It had ripped trees from their roots, and rocks jutted out like angry teeth. Sir, I don't think it's wise to go this way, said Dawn. Dawn no longer felt safe with Mr. Hanson and headed out of the woods. He grabbed her sharply by the arm and pulled her close to him. You're going to have to trust me. No, she replied, as she struggled to break free. You're not on top of the food chain, little girl. I am. He added, as he pointed the gun at her. His body pressed against her, and she felt cold steel from a knife tip on her neck. She wanted to scream for help, but she was so far into the wilderness that no one would hear her. She knew she should have listened to her brother.

It was too dangerous to go alone with the wild animals and aftershocks. She never thought a person would hurt her. I mean, people were here to help. When the nights got cold and dark, they were there to be beside you and keep you warm. Now she would never feel warm again. Tears fell from her eyes, and out of nowhere, she heard a low growl. Looking up, she saw the brindle wall from earlier, only now it had its packmates. They'd surrounded Mr. Hansen.

He aimed and shot at one of them, but the bullet flew wild. dawn struck him in the head with a flashlight and he fell unconscious the brindle wolf licked dawn on the hand and watched her its eyes were a beautiful warm gold dawn saw that the wolf was female and appeared as though she might have been nursing thank you mrs wolf she said dusting herself off the wolf seemed to nod and then trotted off into the forest after her pack dawn headed back to the road and a large army truck greeted her. A gruff older man piled her into the rig. Look, they've called martial law on the city of Anchorage.

Sunamis have struck coastal towns like Kodiak, and last lies are wreaking total devastation. I need to see my parents, said Dawn. She gave the address of their store to the gruff man in the truck. Driving downtown, she saw it had devastated everything. J.C. Penney had all but sunk under asphalt. It had ripped roads. in half and gas and water lines were burst, pouring everywhere.

They stopped outside the repair shop. It was crumpled to the ground, but her mother and father stood. She saw that her dad had a large goose egg on his head, but her mom looked uninjured. Dawn embraced them, and the army truck took them to the hospital for examination. Her father only suffered a mild concussion, and her mom was fine. The cab dropped them off at their trailer. rushing in they hug Thomas and Mary relieved that their house and children were well

I'm glad she went looking for us but never do something that stupid again sighed her mother I'd rather have you home safe something could have happened Dawn nodded she was about to tell her about the man when she heard a howl outside she looked out the window and saw the brindle walk it's all right mama I gave her some sandwiches and

she's just been following me You know, if you feed him, you'll never get rid of him, her dad said, raising an eyebrow. That's okay, the earthquake scared her. The wolf wagged her tail, and she could see the smaller eyes of four pups looking at her. The mama wolf then gathered her young and headed off into the woods. I think she just wanted to say goodbye. I'll just be vigilant. Dangerous animals, her dad said.

Yeah, Papa, but man is the most fatal. I suppose you're right, Dawn. You'd be careful of who you trust. At least most of Gar's creatures are pure in their intention. Dawn nodded at this, and overhead the northern light shimmered, and she heard howls in the distance as she settled down for bed. Anchorage eventually got back on its feet after the earthquake. Her parents finally had their shop again and all was well.

She never saw Mrs. Wolfe again, but would occasionally hear howls in the night that comforted her. they arrested robert hanson and charged him with killing over seventeen women she felt lucky that she'd survived all by the luck of a furry guardian angel Christ, I muttered to myself, as the first flakes of snow started to fall. They gathered in fuzzy clumps over the windshield, before my wipers cleared them away. I'd been waiting for fifteen, no, twenty minutes now, in my sister's driveway. Had I chosen to wait inside with her, I'd have been dead by now from her two grey cats. Cute little devils, but murder to my sinuses. Buffy eyes and a clogged-up throat.

Yeah, that's just what I needed. Every Christmas our family made the annual trip to my grandparents' cabin tucked away in the woods of Hope, Alaska. I'd hoped to beat the heavy snowfall that was forecasted. Since my sister's license was suspended from a DUI, here I was a hostage to time, with my finger tapping anxiously on the steering rear. When my mother had asked me to be the one to grab my sister, I'd honestly dreaded it from the start. It wasn't that we hated one another. We just weren't as close.

more. After decades of constant arguments and bitter disagreements, our relationship was distant and fizzled. Yes, we were siblings, but it felt more accurate to call us the residue of what siblings once were. Finally, like the gates of Valhalla, her front door opened and out she came. Her hair was forest green. The last time I'd seen her, it had been white. The time before that, it was violent. Got everything, I asked, as she clambered. her way into the passenger seat. Hmm, she responded, and she adjusted her glasses and stuffed a few bags in the back seat.

And just like that, we were off. Hope was about a 30-minute drive, and it didn't take long for the awkward silence to inflate between us. It didn't help that the radio didn't work in my car, and at the broken auxiliary port made your music sound like it was having a seizure. By the time we reached the turn-off for Hope Highway, the road was. turning into a thick white sheet. Thankfully, in Christmas Eve night, the long stretch to Hope's small community was quick and vacant.

The cabin was tucked away in a fortress of trees five miles off the main road. As I made the turn, my sister cracked the window, pulling out a blunt and led it with a lighter. Why on a hit? she asked. Snow crunched beneath us. Not while I'm driving. It's a straight path.

practically there already. She took a drag and blew it out the window. I just want to focus on this, all right? She huffed and pushed up her glasses. Well, if you're that worried, maybe slowed down a bit then. There was the jab. A piece of bait to lure me into another fight. But I wasn't going to bite. Not this time. She could live with us getting there faster. Well, the drive was almost over. I'd soon be in a warm living room with my feet up and a spiked eggnog in my hand. Bobby Helms, jingle bell rock in the air. I could already hear Uncle Jed spouting off one of his crew jokes. Hey, why does Santa Claus have such a be? Dude, my sister shrieked, jabbing a finger in my side and whipping my mind back to the windshield. In the car had just finished winding around

the thick trail. A large body of a reindeer stood in that path. Eyes wide open and blank Didn't move as the high beams found it Snapped into a panic I twisted the wheels in a desperate swerve The car veered greasily to the side In a fine spray of slosh The reindeer, also known as a caribou

Remained still Even as the bumper soared inches from its nose He came to a crunching halt off the main path Jeez I sighed blessed with relief. Did we hit it? No, my sister said, leaning out the window while exhaling another plume of smoke.

I wound the steering wheel back around and pressed on the gas. The wheel shrilled in place, kicking up globs of sleep but not moving an inch. Oh, perfect, I moaned, and unfolded myself from the seat to check it out. The two front tires were caked in black slush and practically swallowed in a mound of snow. and they kicked at it, trying to clear off the icy debris from the treads and beneath the wheel well. When that tied me out, I resorted to scraping it off with my fingers. Screw off, Prancer. I heard my sister call toward the dark silhouette of the reindeer,

its antlers like gnarled fingers reaching for the treetops. Then she made a sort of startled yip, followed by a... What the fuck? I looked up from the scrim of snow. The reindeer was now stalled. standing tall on both of its hind legs. It looks strange, like a silly caricature you'd see in a kid's book.

But out there in the silence of the woods, it was a creepy image. The way its vague shape stood on just two legs held an almost human-like balance. For whatever reason, I realized then it didn't have a tail. Its muscular neck craned to the side and let out an ullulating scream, a miserable squeal of metal grinding against metal. My legs were ice sculptures, cementing me to the spot as the shriek quieted to a succession of wet grunts. The reindeer dropped down to its original posture and stomped heavily.

Puffs of white vapour and strings of snot vented from its nostrils. I was no hunter, but it didn't take a lot to tell me when a pissed-off animal was about to charge. held up for the driver's seat, pulled the door open, and slammed it shut just as the muffled thud of hooves reach me. Antlers scraped the door as its large body practically flew over the patch I'd just been standing in. Fast. Very fast. My sister screamed as the large bulk of its frame, wound back around and charged again,

this time shattering the headlights and submerging us in the darkness. Just go already! sister hollered in my ear. I'm trying, God damn it, I hissed. The wheel still helplessly spun. We were trapped. The creature charged again, this time nailing the window and blew me a cobweb of cracks near my sister's head. I searched for anything, literally anything that I could use as a weapon. I was never really a gun enthusiast, but at that moment I'd have shaved my head and join the secular amongst if it meant having a glock in my hand right then and there. After rattling the car once more, the reindeer finally appeared to lose interest and disappeared between the cluster of trees.

Granted some time to breathe and think, we phoned our dad and told him about this situation. He was going to come down in his pickup and get us unstuck and out of this mess. I looked over at my sister, who was taking long, steady breaths between her fingers. Are you all right? I asked. "'What do you think?' she grumbled. "'I told you to slow down.' "'Another jab. "'And this time I wasn't going to have it.'

"'Want to be useful?' "'I yelled. "'Well, get out there and push. "'No. "'Shut the hell up. "'I don't need this right now.' "'She said nothing else, "'and neither did I,

"'returning once again to the pocket of silence "'their relationship had succumbed to. "'The sooner Dad's headlights peaked in the distance, the better. Suddenly, she rolled the window down. What are you doing? I asked. Sh, she pursed her lips. Just listen.

Humouring her, I waited, sure enough, the sound reached me too. The quiet voice of a little girl coming from outside. Somebody, it whimpered. I'm lost. Please help me. I'm last. my sister unlocked the door and motioned to open it I grabbed her wrist

What are you doing? She snapped There's someone out there Just wait a second It's weird, isn't it The voice continued to whine choking between sobs and pleading for someone Anyone to help her I didn't like the way it sounded

The same lasting draw Between words The same weeping sounds like someone was hitting repeat on a speaker. Something wasn't right, and my instincts were hoisting red flags left and right. And then my sister looked at me, and her expression walked into shock.

She flung back, pinning both her shoulders against the interior. Things that sounded like words bubbled up, but didn't quite make it out of her throat. I turned and saw what was looking at me. It had the face of a man, surrounded by the mottled fur of a caribou's body. The skin was a mummified brown colour,

wound tightly around its long skull, like old crinkled leather. Snowflakes landed against its wide, expressionless eyes and melted into the dark membrane of its pupils. It circled the car, bobbing its antlers and fogging out the windows as it peered inside. My heart shook the walls of my throat, I locked eyes with my sister, unable to say anything behind the sheer disbelief.

I should have grabbed my phone, snapped a photo, recorded a video of anything, but my thoughts were jangled. It then led out that same horrible scream, but I didn't see its tight contorted lips open. The sound was coming from its neck. Small, fleshy orifices, flapping open like mouths, were converted the high-pitched shrill into the mimic-crime. of a little girl. Help me. I'm lost. Help me. Headlights glazed the area. My father's pickup came into view, paving its way down the path. The reindeer, or whatever the hell it was, ran off, vanishing once again into the snow-covered thickets. Nobody believed us. Why would they? If anybody had told me that story, I would have assumed they were hopped up on some crazy psychedelic.

but the reality of what I saw was cold and it's something I still to this day can't fully swallow. Instead of sleeping that night, my sister and I did some research that led us to the myth of skin walkers. Beings of some sort able to mimic voices and disguise themselves as animals to lure people into the woods. After reading other accounts, there wasn't a doubt in my mind what we had witnessed out there. Every so often that night, stare out the window. and I the yard, wondering if I'd see that leathery face watching from the tree line. Neither I nor my sister ever made that trip again, much to the frustration of my family. But there was a silver lining. She and I have never been closer.

My wife and I travelled overseas to a relative's cabin out here in the middle of Alaska of all places. Reconciliation, she called it. A cheating. whore, I would often reply. Yes, we'd come out here as some sort of therapy so that I wouldn't call for a divorce and let her entire family know that the last round of shots at every bar in town was most likely going to be on her, literally. So, let's get started with the cliches. Pisp or connection, that I have to manage social interactions with her. Check. Absolutely no way of contacting anyone for help Thus making it easier for me to cause some sort of fatal incident

If I do get even more sick of her Check Snow so deep that even a snowplat would struggle to clear the path to us Check Yes I was prepared for an absolutely amazing time in the cabin we had The interior seemed much more welcoming though, oak wood beams hanging from the ceiling, arched doorways between the rooms, great bay windows overlooking the vast canvas outside. Had it not been so damn cold, I might have considered staying here for a while longer.

The first thing I can recall my wife doing was heading upstairs to find out bedroom. I promptly followed when my age. inspection was halted by her terrified cries. I paced up the stairs quickly, suddenly finding myself in a corridor surrounded by closed doors on all sides. Honey? I called out, questioning the worry I felt. In here, hurry! I heard her call before seeing a beckoning hand reach out from one of the doors that had actually been slightly adjure. I jogged down the hallway to where my wife stood in the embrace of darkness, peering just beyond the veil of sight.

I tried to squeeze past her when she halted me from opening the door any further. What is it? I impatiently asked. What the hell is that? She muttered the words, but I could feel the scream she was holding back. I tried to peer into the darkness. but my eyes adjusted slowly. Then, a form. It was hard to discern from the other silhouettes in the room,

but the harder I stared, the more I could pick out the details of it. I could make out protrusions here and there, and a solid form the size of a curled up adult person. I wasn't sure why my wife had screamed until the form began to wrive. In the darkness it swirled, shifting the absence of light around it to form darker shadows that mocked the frailty of what I could perceive. At some point, I must have jumped backwards, because before I knew it, my wife and I had fallen out of the room onto our backs, still staring in at the darkness.

But now, there wasn't any darkness. In the fleeting panic, the door had been thrown open. and the light from the hallway spilled into the room, revealing the thing at the other side that was no longer sheltered by blackness. Shifting, ashen flesh, pulsated with purple veins. The form writhed uncontrollably now,

and I could see something squirming within the grey skin. The protrusions appeared to be animal legs, Like those of a deer. They were straightened out, stiffly shaking as the light set upon more of this thing. I gagged as the sack of grey began to violently shake, trembling so hard that it was beginning to hit one of the limbs against the wooden floor, emitting a thudding noise that split the air.

I turned to see my wife gagging, and when I turned back to look upon the thing, I saw the veins grow large and throbbed so greatly that I should have expected the outcome. It exploded. No guts, no gore. Just a heavy cloud of thick dust erupting from it. I coughed as the dust cloud spread to us, dissipating as it met with the hallway light. I quickly rubbed my eyes free of.

whatever had gotten on my face and looked to see the flesh thing deflated against the back wall. The legs wilted, and though I'd sworn to myself something had been inside, it had deflated entirely into a near puddle of something soot-like. What just happened? My wife screamed from beside me, coughing as she lifted herself from the ground. I gazed up at her in confusion, watching her wipe away some of the the grey that had settled on her face. How the hell am I supposed to know?

I replied, slapping my hands down and standing myself up beside her. She began to sputter, holding her hand over her mouth, only yielded more of the dust substance led out by the thing in the dark room. Go get yourself into bed. I'll fix us up something to drink. I said with a growing resentment. Here I was, supposed to be having some sort of therapy session, and I was already catering to her like usual.

But as much anger as I felt, I had a strange fear in me that whatever the hell was in that room was not right. Beside the boiling kettle, I held my phone up high for some semblance of signal. As that desired bar appeared on my phone, I reached up with my other hand to type in a description of what I'd seen. Nothing. No results relating to what I'd seen. But plenty of those horrid cyst-popping videos that somehow get around.

As the kettle stopped boiling, I leaned over it to pour the water into the mugs on the side. But as I did, I felt something rise up in my throat and coughed violently. sticky patches of grey splattered across the counter, some landing in the boiling water I had accidentally spilled, and shriveling up into tiny black clumps. Jeez, what the fuck? I whispered to myself, before being interrupted by the louder coughing of my wife.

It sounded as though she was trying to throw up her lungs, and when she finally stopped, I could just barely hear the frail wimpers of, agony she was managing. I looked once again to the boiling water on the side that had burned away the grey stuff and poured water into the mugs without mixing the tea before running with them upstairs. Here, drink this, I shouted at her, rushing to her side and sitting her up. She glanced cautiously at the steam rising from the mug, but she had quickly become pale, and I saw no room room for hesitation before I forced the water to her lips. She screamed, but she managed to gulp it down,

coughing up some blood as the empty cup fell beside her. I held her as the tears rolled, and a charcoal sludge leaked from her lips. She tried to reach out for me, but I had already begun rushing back downstairs to get some cold water. That's when I saw black stuff on the kitchen side, growing out along where I'd spilled the water. It was throbbing like the grey thing, only it was much faster, and let out a putrid stench as I neared it. Shit, shit, shit. I groaned, paralyzed. Then I heard the retching. I looked back to the stairs and tried to force myself to move, but I couldn't.

I coughed harder, and it wasn't until I'd stopped that I realized my wife had gone silent. My legs were finally able to move, and I sprinted back up the stairs and down the long corridor to the bedroom, where my wife lay motionless, splayed across the bed with her eyes blank. and her mouth agape dripping with sludge. No, not dripping. The sludge was moving in such a way that it was travelling up, as though crawling back inside her. I ran as fast as I could out of the cabin.

Throwing my knees against the heavy onset of snow was like trying to escape waves in an ocean. As I neared the car we had driven up in, my feet became numb, and I fell into the snow. I remember the cold seeping into my skin, nipping at me as I felt a sharp tug against my angle before being dragged back into the house.

I barely managed to turn around to see the ghostly face of my wife. Her mouth oozing with the black stuff as she pulled me back up the stairs. I tried to scream, but I coughed. and when I tried to claw myself away, I felt once tender fingers rip into me. Did she bite me too? I struggled against the pain too much to know. But when I finally felt free, I tried to climb back to my feet.

But they wouldn't move. I peered down to see my wife, molding us together into some sort of cocoon. I was granted the freedom of my arms, and up here there's reception so I can tell anyone out there. Do not come to this cabin. I'm not sure how long I'll have left after this post. I can feel my legs liquefying in the cocoon. I can feel the thing growing inside of me, though not as quickly as it did her. And I can see my skin turning a bit of. bitter grey as the days grow endless and the hallway light starts to flicker and so once again

we reach the end of tonight's podcast my thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories and to you for taking the time to listen now i'd ask one small favour of you wherever you get your podcast from please write a few nice words and leave a five-star review as it really helps the podcast 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.