Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - 2 London Underground Horror Stories

Episode Date: August 4, 2021

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Talk to nicely. Hey guys, I will now be posting new episodes every weekday at 1 p.m. Eastern Standard Time. Be sure to follow the podcast to get notified when new episodes are released. Thank you all for tuning in, and now time for the story. As a reporter, I've experienced many things in this city that I can't explain, especially while going into the London Underground, whispers of ghosts, rumors of monsters, you name it. It could happen here in this forgotten city, under the city.

Often it's difficult to even get down there. Police say that a majority of the old tube is not for public use, crumbling and decaying. Too dangerous, they say. And for someone like me, usually that's where my journey ends. But Randall Baker would just view that as the beginning. Randall is an urban explorer, someone who deliberately looks for the unbeaten paths and the forgotten streets that lead nowhere. The moment I interviewed him, I knew he was special.

To him, these places were not just his story. historical, they were personal. He had been to a dozen or more of them. So you're going to keep this all confidential, yeah? He asked me when I started the recording. Your voice can be altered, and I can change your name in the papers, I told him. Truthfully, I didn't see anyone coming after him just because he went into the dark forgotten parts of our city. But Randall was convinced that some in London wanted to keep the secrets of the underground hidden. There have been several times that armed forces has stopped us from going any further. Almost makes you feel that they are hiding something, yeah? What do you suppose that might be? I asked. Then Randall had a bloody, brilliant idea.

It really doesn't do any good to sit around here and gab about it all day. The viewers need to have a firsthand account of this shit, and you can't do that unless you go down there, he told me. I was hesitant. I knew anything that he was interested in exploring would be considered highly illegal. I could get in trouble for publishing anything related to it. But that fire if curiosity was hard to quench. The more he talked, the more interested in these secluded corners of London I became, so we agreed to meet that same night around 11 at one of the less guarded, abandoned stations. According to Randall, from there, we could dive into the bones of the city and find something new together. Do you mean this will be a part of the underground that you have

never explored before? I asked, that's what makes it exciting. There are places just under our feet that haven't had people in them for centuries. Think of what we can uncover, he told me. He arranged for four of his usual crew to join us, and all of them insisted on fake names, Mack and his wife Jules, and then two best friends, thunder and storm. All of them looked like how I imagined typical vagabonds, covered in tattoos and defiant toward the world, all eager to see what was beneath. You sure this reporter can handle the bunkers below? Mack asked, sizing me up. I was about to ask you the same, I told him. The larger man laughed and gathered up supplies commenting.

You should do just fine, boy. Randall instructed all of us to use the glow sticks as a source of illumination as we crawled under the steps of the abandoned platform to a sewer tunnel below. And from there, it was pitch-black darkness. The air smelled of sewage and trash. Not exactly inviting for this sort of adventure. But I knew to expect it to get worse as we ventured down. Death and decay would soon follow.

The entire group remained silent as we began to work down, using a rope to tether us to the surface and shimmy into the tunnel. It was a bit like cave diving, not knowing what you might see in the gloom. I knew there would be rats and roaches and other troglophana. It was likely that most of these creatures never ventured up to the surface anymore for food. Before I knew it, though, our feet hit the solid ground, and we were standing in what looked like a massive old subway tube. Which way? Storm asked. Randall was checking his map.

He had an old one from about the 1930s. Back when these tunnels were actually still in use and he said, Let's head north. All of us kept our conversations to a minimum. As we walked, and I did my best to keep a memory of every interesting barren feature of this place that I could. It was clear we weren't the first people to be down here. The graffiti was still pretty recent after all.

But it still made me feel very isolated and very alone. Randall convinced the group to head down another vertical shaft to a lower mining facility and commented. This is where the good stuff happens, my boy. I didn't know what to make of the comment, but complied and followed. It seemed like this vertical tunnel went on forever, and I actually wondered if they would even have enough rope. Randall stopped just a few moments after the thought crossed my mind and shouted, I've hit something solid, feels like a hatch. The others hurried down to use their glow sticks and let him inspect.

Sure enough, it was clearly an old bunker hatch, with the date of October 1920 in it. What do you suppose is on the other side? Jules asked. Randall took out what seemed like a stick of dynamite, his eyes flashing mischievously. Only one way to find out, he said. All of us hurried up the rope to get away from the blast radius. I even wondered if the tunnel itself might collapse when the explosion came. Somehow, though, we survived that craziness. It was nothing compared to what happened as we entered the bunker. As soon as we got in, it felt like I was in a time capsule. Everything inside was perfectly in its place, a definitive blast to the past. Whoa, never seen this before. Storm commented as he took his phone out and started to snap

pictures. You mean this is a bunker you have never set foot in? I asked Randall. He didn't respond. He was too busy observing the architecture and the retro furniture, clearly taken aback by all that he saw. This doesn't look like Eastern European style, Jules commented. Everything in here looks so well preserved, Thunder said. Then he pointed his camera toward a recliner that was sitting in front of a 1970-style television. To our shock and horror, there was something sitting there in the chair, a corpse that looked rather recent. Holy shit, Randall exclaimed, coming over to get a better look. How long do you think they've been down here? Jules whispered. Then a storm was trying to get a better angled for the mummified body. The corpse slept up and grabbed his camera. All of us stumbled

backward, trying to not trip over ourselves as we saw the strange half-dead person tried to devour the smartphone. What the hell? How is this dude alive? Max shouted. It's a zombie, Randall said, moving back toward the way we had come in. We need to get out of here, he added. None of us bothered to object. We moved toward the tunnel that led upward, not even looking back as we heard the strange monster making low snarling noises and start to crawl toward us. Then it broke into a dash and tackled Matt to the ground. Get it off me! He screamed.

For a moment, all of us were frozen in fear. Then Randall pulled out a gun and pointed it at the creature. Mack, keep your arms down! He shouted. The monster was opening its mouth wider than normal, multiple rows of teeth pushing their way toward our friend. Randall fired three shots, hitting the corpse back to the ground and grabbing Mac up with his right hand.

Let's go, he said. We all raced up the tunnel, trying our best to escape the creature as we heard it make another loud bellowing calm. Then the tunnel we were in started to rumble. The wall shimmered and moved, and we saw rows of dead eyes opening from slits in the wall. Dozens of other humanoid creatures started to crawl towards us, blocking our exit. This way, Randall said, moving left down a new crevice that led into a much more dilapidated tunnel.

This one was clearly designed from the World War I era, with old peeling posters of using the space as a bomb shelter. But some of the artwork was more recent, and none of it in a language that we recognized. What the fuck is this? Jules asked. We heard the creatures, starting to push their way into the shelter, and Randall guided us to a ladder that seemed to lead to the surface. Climb, climb! Climb! He shouted as we all scrambled up.

Storm lost his footing, not able to really grab onto one of the rails, and fell head over heels back to the ground. I could just barely see his body hit the floor as the zombie scrambled toward him, grabbing hold of him like a fresh piece of meat. They ripped into his flesh and pulled his arms and legs apart, blood spewing onto the grimy concrete, Slowly, even as other members of the undead group lapped it up. I couldn't watch the gruesome scene any further and kept climbing,

reaching the top and having jewels pull me out before slamming the sewer lid down. Help me move this, Thunder said, pointing toward a large supply cabinet. Matt, Randall, and I pushed the heavy equipment on top of the drainage hole before finally collapsing on the floor and catching our breath. Holy hell! I did not sign up for that. I said as I wiped sweat from my brow. Thunder's hands were shaking. What was that down there?

I've been in a lot of desolate places, but never anything that crazy, he whispered. Randall was about to speculate when the lights in the room suddenly flickered, and I took a moment to notice our surroundings. We weren't back on the surface like we thought. This was some kind of laboratory, an observation station to watch over the undead society below. I thought as I saw multiple security cameras monitoring the feed of the abandoned tube. It started out as an experiment in longevity, a voice said nervously in the darkness. I didn't recognize it coming from Randall at first, but I suddenly realized that he was the one confessing. He was trying his best to sound brave as he explained it to us. London selected the homeless, the travelers, the children

that no one wanted, and placed them here, trying to make them better, to improve our society. He looked toward me with a face of anger, of hate. But they forgot about us. They abandoned the project the same way they closed off these tunnels, and we were left to fend for ourselves. My parents had to sacrifice themselves to let me live. I had to eat them the way a dog sucks on a bone. And even though I knew that I wouldn't be around much longer, my mates were devolving, turning into God knows what, Randall stated,

You let us down here to be their food, I realized. I'm preserving my society, he declared. And as I understood the reality of his dark plan, I felt a sick twist in my stomach knowing he was going to take us all down for what he believed was right. This was the story he wanted to share with the world, of the hate and anger that he carried from childhood, of what was waiting to burst into the world above. How long I wonder after we are gone? Will this underground society stay down here?

And when will they be hungry for what awaits them in the light? I'm an urban explorer, a modern-day romer, if you will. Been doing this since my 21st birthday, thanks to my best friends Nick and Joe, introducing me to the vast underground network of abandoned tunnels that covers almost all of London. There hasn't been a moment of my free time that I haven't spent in that. darkness. To me, the grime and the filth and the decay are testament of history. We as explorers get the chance to step backward into time and see forgotten parts of our civilization. It's beautiful and haunting. It's a part of me that I never thought I would need to give up.

But then Nick had an accident. One dive into a twisting part of a railway tube that had been closed off for the greater part of 30 years led him to being trapped under debris for almost six hours. We had to contact paramedics to come down there and pry a mouth. which was a whole other ordeal. They managed to get him out, but also find him for unauthorized entry into a quarantined area. He lost both his legs and all of his dignity. Needless to say, he was never the same after that. Joe said after that he didn't have the drive for exploration anymore. I know we have always respected the fact that this stuff is dangerous, but man, seeing what happened, put things into perspective for me. I have a wife now, a kid on the way. I don't think I'll be

going down there again, he admitted. Gradually, I moved on as well trying to forget about that part of my life. It's hard, though, to give up something you love. I realized just a few weeks back that I still hadn't forgotten, because I saw a flyer on one of the side rails leading into the tube that instantly sparked my interest. For the unsuspecting passerby, it likely looked just like a dozen other adverts that covered the subway walls like graffiti. But I recognized the telltale signs of an urban explorer. There was a picture of one of the abandoned stations that I had visited before, followed by an enticing offer to participate in a scavenger hunt for a prize. Come to this location for more details, the message read. The prize was said to be at least

$20,000, a pretty penny in these trying times to say the least. I decided to check it out that day after work. Getting there was half the battle. I had to get off at a station alone. and I had to bribe one of the railway officers to let me go anyway. Ain't nothing down that way. You'll just be going back in circles, mate, he told me. Then it's my money to waste, isn't it? I told him. I wanted to give myself a boost of confidence to keep going. Part of me actually wondered if this was some sort of scam, but another part, suspected this was likely a game runner for an internet sensationalist, and that made me even more interested. These sort of puzzles were what attracted me to the intrigue of urban exploration in the

first place. Soon I was in the abandoned station. It was amazing to me to see how quickly the contrast between the orderly and modern tube and this old tunnel. I was back to my old roots. I walked away as far my smartphone, my smartphone. In ages gone by, a subway trolley would have picked up passengers here, but now it was only covered in trash and decay. Then I heard a noise. Who goes there? I said instinctively, shining my light toward the sound. A A younger woman raised her hands up defensively. Don't shoot! She shouted.

Then she saw it wasn't a cop and commented. Oh, you must be here because of the flyer too? I relaxed a bit, realizing she was an explorer like me and commented. Are we the only ones here? So far. And I've been trying my damnedest to find this first clue. But so far, all I have found is dusty footprints, she said, shining her own phone near the part of the platform which she had been standing.

Those look pretty old, but maybe the hunt isn't about finding items. Maybe we have to take pictures of things and then send them to that QR code, I suggested. I showed her that I had taken a picture of the flyer and explained. That little square at the bottom takes you to the supposedly blank website, but I bet if we uploaded a picture that we made it here, maybe it would supply us with the next clue. That's pretty smart, she said. We did it. And just as I anticipated, our next location popped up. This one didn't look familiar at all. In fact, it looked a lot more ancient than where we stood now. Oh, that's not far from here, but we will have to do a bit of splunking, the girl said,

and offered me her hand and said, I'm Claire, by the way, I guess we are partners in this mess now. Mark, I offered back as I checked my battery life. I hadn't anticipated being down here so long, perhaps hoping the next hunt site would be in a different tunnel entirely, and I started to inwardly panic. Flashbacks of Nick popped into my head as well. I didn't want to wind up down here with no chance of rescue. No one would even know I was here, I thought anxiously.

But the intrigue of this mysterious game was too interesting, so I let my judgment lapse and followed Claire toward an open hole in the desolation. It's a long way down, Mark, buckle up, she advised, as she tied the rope to a piece of old steel and shimmied down into total darkness. I slid my phone into my pocket and wrapped the rope around my waist to get down as well, trying my best not to be concerned that I was being led into a pit by a completely. I've done this a thousand times before with Nick and Joe. I told myself as I tried to see where I was going, but it wasn't possible.

It felt like the void was going to last forever. And then I had the brilliant idea to try and use my phone for light again. That was sarcasm, because as I tried to reach for it, my cell fell down below and I heard it snap in half on the concrete. Claire, I hope that didn't hit you. I said as I hurried down to find her, but there was no response. I stood there in the dead silence and waited to see if she would respond. And then her smartphone lit up in front of me on the ground and I held my breath.

Someone had knocked her out, leaving her in a crumpled mess with her phone trying to dial 911. Except that I soon saw there was no signal down here. I took the phone and used it to look around, desperate to see if I could identify Claire's attacker. All I could see was a figure, standing at least six feet tall in the gloom. It was enough to make me scream in shock as I decided to run. Immediately, though, I second-guessed the plan. If I went further down this path, I had no idea if I would ever get out again. I turned around to face the stranger and decided to try and bluff my way out.

Don't come any closer. I have a weapon, I shouted. All I heard in response was laughter. Then I realized that the shadowy figure was not alone. First, I saw two tall shadows moving forward. They split apart, and I realized there were at least half a dozen tall men behind them. I watched in paralyzed fear as they tried to come toward me. my only option was to hide. I turned off her phone immediately

and felt around the corridors of the tunnel until I found a bit of debris to crouch under. I could hear them talking amongst themselves, a dastardly plan being revealed as they talked about us. How many others did you see? One man asked Greffley. I saw a girl go this way, but she might have gone into the next tunnel.

It's a maze down there, the second said. Damn it! We need to get the supply back to the boss by nightfall. Well, we should get cover again. There might be other people coming down here from the flyer, The first man said, Take that one out the back way. I'll keep searching.

We need to make sure that blood is cleaned up before the next batch comes, the third man said. I held my breath. They were going to kidnap Claire, and if they found me, likely do the same. Possibly to be sold off to some human trafficking ring the way they were talking.

It made me sick to my stomach to imagine they used the hobby I loved to trap people just like me. I placed my hands down in the ground, searching in the darkness for something to defend myself with, and finally grabbed a hold of a sharp rock. Then my other hand touched me. one of the men's boots. I froze, hoping that maybe he wouldn't realize that was me below in the

shadows. Hey, I think I found her. He shouted. Instantly, I struck, slamming the rock against his leg. Son of a bitch! I crawled out from my hiding spot and kept the rock in my hands, watching as several men ran toward me with large searchlights on their ways to guide them. They came here expecting untrained and innocent tourists. It was now my chance to rescue Claire and show these idiots a thing too. I kept the rock close to my face and swung my fists randomly, jabbing and bashing against them as I kept running toward Claire. Truth be told, in the darkness, I had no clue where I was going, or what I was even hitting. I kept hearing them shout and cuss as I didn't stop swinging, my mind flashing to Nick

and wondering what he would do if he were here. Then the last one fell, and I used their searchlight to find Claire. I found her limping on the ground. I carried her with her body weight against mine. The next corridor was even more run down than where we had been trapped at, A slope of trash and debris that had clearly been sliding downward for years. It looked like it was about to cave in. I carefully held on to my new friend as we climbed, holding the phone out in front of me for light and hoping to get a signal. Then finally, a single bar showed up, and I made a call to emergency services.

What is your emergency? The paramedics asked. Hello? My friend and I are trapped in the London tubes deep under the city. I don't know where we are, and... I paused as I pushed for the GPS location and sent it to the authorities. I've sent you our location. There are people here trying to hurt us.

Please hurry, I said. I heard footsteps suddenly behind us. I couldn't stop climbing. I couldn't look back. We actually didn't meet the police until we arrived at the main subway. They couldn't find a way down. We came out through an old sewer line.

Altogether, six men were arrested, all connected to a trafficking ring just like I suspected. I have no idea how many people they managed to capture before we came along. But sometimes when I'm traveling across London, I will see those flyers, and it fills me with rage.

I toss them in the trash. But I know it may never be enough. Thanks for listening. Be sure to hit that follow button to get notified every time I release a new episode. If you're tuning in on Apple Podcasts, please take a second to leave a rating. This helps the podcast grow tremendously.

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