Full Body Chills - The Helpers

Episode Date: October 9, 2023

A story about a girl who had so much help to give but kept none of it for herself. Written by Matthew Douglas Jensen. You can read the original story and view the episode art at fullbodychillspodcast.com.Looking for more chills? Follow Full Body Chills on Instagram @fullbodychillspod. Full Body Chills is an audiochuck production. Instagram: @audiochuckTwitter: @audiochuckFacebook: /audiochuckllcTikTok: @audiochuck Brought to you by FX's American Horror Stories. Four Episode Huluween Event Streaming October 26th. Only on Hulu.

This episode was produced with audio effects in full surround sound. For the best experience, we kindly recommend you listen with headphones. Hi, listeners. I'm Shereen Hader, and I have a story I want to tell you. A story about a girl who had so much help to give, but kept none of it for herself. So, gather round and listen. Close. Anna wanted to change the world. But even the most accomplished middle schooler, which she was, had to settle for small victories,

like getting her family to recycle, standing up to a bully, and reminding a grown-up that people don't use that term anymore. Once, Anna organized a dozen classmates to make posters supporting the Black Lives Matter movement, even though she didn't quite understand the history of it all or why we needed to protest for basic human kindness anyway. Her mom was especially proud of that one.

Anna remembered the big kiss she planted on her forehead. It was the first time her mother called her a helper. Her teacher just criticized her handwriting. Anna was the one who brought a garbage bag whenever she and the others played soccer in the park. For a while, her friend Kendall would help out too, picking up litter before and after every game. But even she grew bored of it. And after a while, she and the others spent less and less time helping with Anna, and consequently, less and less time around Anna. Now, they mostly hung out in the matcha shop, trading gossip and painting fantasy dating scenarios. Most recently, Anna was spending two afternoons a week with an elderly neighbour, Mrs Adler,

reading books and hearing stories about being almost famous on Broadway. But Mrs Adler got sick, and within a couple of weeks, Mrs Adler had died. And so, with the sort of kindness needed in tough times, like the divorce or when they had to put Molly to sleep, Anna's mum gave her five dollars for a treat and permission to walk into town. Anna's first thought was the matcha shop, where her friends would be laughing and flirting, enjoying a few precious minutes of unsupervised behaviour. But when she looked through the exterior glass

and saw Queen Kendall holding court, Anna only felt out of place. So she handed her money to the homeless guy out front, turned on her heels and walked aimlessly up the street. She walked. Past the bookseller, past the ice cream shop, past the record store where the weird old man played funny music. You can help, read the sign.

It was askew on a light pole, just at eye level and partially hidden by a bush. It wasn't some mass-printed thing that got stapled to every bulletin board. No, this was handwritten in an almost obsessive hand. Even her teacher wouldn't find a flaw. And written below the headline was, Today, Elks Lodge, Basement Level, Children's Blood Drive. Anna's mum was a nurse and had helped out at blood drives before. She had told Anna about them, and more than once she mentioned that they gave you free cookies at the end.

She spoke fondly about the donors. Selfless people from all walks of life who wanted to help. The Elks Lodge was just up the street. Anna wanted to help. By whatever force that compelled her to clean when her friends were flirting, Anna made the last block to the lodge. She'd seen the building before, though never really looked at it. Three storeys of blue-painted brick, peeling in places,

black trim on the windows and doors, neglected planters, a wobbly wooden sign with a carved elk's head. No sign of life. The frosted glass doors out front had a simple taped sign in the same meticulous hand she'd seen before. It read, You can help. Anna pushed open the doors with a creak and followed the dimly lit foyer to a basement stairway.

Greenish light and sounds of activity spilled upwards, and Anna's sense of duty overcame her sense of discomfort. She drew a long breath and took the first step down. At the barely inaudible tap of her toe upon the stair, a head poked around from the landing below. A woman, an older woman. She was maybe in her 70s or 80s with a big earnest smile and the rosiest of cheeks. She wore a pastel smock, kind of like the one Anna's mother wore at work.

She reminded her of Mrs. Adler. Child, welcome. The old woman spoke, waving Anna down the stairs. And thank you for coming. Thank you for having such heart for people in need. Is your mummy or daddy with you? Anna shook her head. The old woman smiled.

Such a brave one too. Is this your first time giving blood? Anna nodded. The old woman smiled broader. She had those big, perfect, unnatural teeth that looked like Mrs. Adler's dentures. Anna hated Mrs. Adler's teeth, but was ashamed of herself for that. She was ashamed of herself for hating this lady's teeth, too. We have cookies at the end, as many as you want. Don't be nervous. Come down now. The old woman ushered Anna downstairs and around the corner

into a large windowless basement. Greenish light spilled out of struggling fluorescent tubes barely reaching the shadowy corners of the space. A dozen or so privacy curtains divided the room, between which a handful of older women, more or less of the same size and shape as not Mrs. Adler, moved among the hidden donors. Anna heard the occasional whisper of conversation and the occasional reassuring hush-hush. Up front was a sort of reception table, some indistinguishable pamphlets and a messy pile of stickers. The old woman gestured towards the stickers. Anna meekly shook her head. As they rounded the table and followed the pathway between the privacy curtains,

Anna felt the urge to keep her eyes directly forward. She ignored the old women in pastel smocks whispering to their young patients, ignored the tiny legs pointed toward her. Maybe this was out of courtesy to those kids donating blood, who may be feeling vulnerable and maybe a little scared. Maybe it's because Anna was a little scared herself. She had never given blood before, so she ignored the bare feet covered in cuts and mud. She wasn't exactly afraid of needles, but she sure didn't like them,

and she ignored the crying. Maybe she should talk to her mum before... afraid of needles, but she sure didn't like them, and she ignored the crying. Maybe she should talk to her mum before... Anna must have slowed her pace a bit because she felt a hand grasp her and pull her forward. The old woman looked back, smiling, urging Anna towards a station in the far corner of the room. Her hand was plump, but delicate like Mrs. Adler's. The skin, though, felt thin, cold. And as the old woman turned back towards their destination, she spoke, almost to herself. Uncommon these days.

Helpers like you. Warm souls, so much life left to give. Up you go. Helpers like you. Warm souls, so much life left to give. Up you go. The old woman gestured into the simple blood draw station, and a metal chair kissed by greenish light. A thin plank was attached to each armrest, making it wider and longer. Next to the chair was a simple metal desk and what looked like a toolbox. Anna didn't really register climbing up into the chair or taking off her shoes.

She didn't protest or even pay attention to the old woman tying her right arm to the plank. Not Mrs. Adler's whispers seemed to smooth out the edges of time, like those glorious drowsy moments between a sleep and a wake. But Anna saw the needle. It was long and threatening, steel tarnished with flecks of rust. At its plunger end was a brown rubber tube made opaque with some rusty clots within. The tube ran into the toolbox like the long tongue of a lizard snatching flies. You'll help so many of us. So helpful.

Your life. Your blood. Don't be nervous. Just a little pinch. Anna felt the urge to watch the old woman do her work. Her plump, fragile fingers found Anna's vein and massaged it eagerly. With a smile and practiced movement, not Mrs. Adler pricked into her young skin, lifting it slightly as the point of the needle wriggled into her meat. It looked like a metal worm burrowing, then a spurt of warm red blood as the needle found purchase. You may feel a little light-headed. Things may look a little funny.

It's normal when you give us this gift. As if on command, Anna's stomach lurched, and her forehead was dotted with sweat. Her vision grew shallow, and the room began to lean impossibly one way, then the other. The needle seemed to come alive, drinking eagerly from Anna's body. She tried to speak, but found she could not. Instead, turning towards the old woman with a pitiful, terrified glance. Except, not Mrs. Adler had since gone, along with her veneer of kindness and her fake grandmotherly warmth. Anna's eyes now locked on the twisting metal needle.

And on the sharp talons that held them. The claws that kept her down, that pinched and squeezed for every drop of blood, were jagged and overgrown. And connected to them was a wire-thin hand, one with grey, flaking skin and obsidian veins spreading all the way up her arms and neck and over her ghastly visage. The hag smiled, but her once-perfect teeth had been replaced with yellow-brown needles. Her gums dissolved to tar with an odorous bile so strong it tasted sour. But then the girl met with its eyes. There were beady, cold wells of ink so deep and dark that Anna felt herself slipping. And before she could even scream, the darkness in Anna's vision overtook her entirely.

Kendall found Anna unconscious on a park bench early that evening. She called Anna's mother, who broke away from work and listened with horror as her exhausted daughter recounted a story too impossible to believe. They notified the police, of course, who finally relented and offered to investigate. But there was no sign of a blood drive. The Elks Lodge itself was a dead end, closed for renovations that never came. With a shrug, the cops came and went, giving Anna a demoralizing pat on the head. While they agreed her certainly was a scary story, the stale cookie Anna had discovered in her pocket was hardly evidence of a crime.

Full Body Chills is an AudioChuck production. This episode was written by Matthew Douglas Jensen and read by Shirin Haider. This story was modified slightly for audio retelling, but you can find the original in full on our website. So, what do you think, Chuck? Do you approve?