Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - 3 Insane Asylum Horror Stories
Episode Date: May 17, 2021🎉 Unlock exclusive bonus episodes HERE: https://www.patreon.com/drnosleep 🔔 Dr. NoSleep YouTube channel: https://youtube.com/c/DrNoSleep 🎽 Dr. NoSleep Merchandise: teespring.com/stores/dr-nos...leep-merch DISCLAIMER: These stories are R rated for adults 18 years or older. NOT for children. #drnosleep #scarystories #horrorstories #truescarystories #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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Talk to nicely.
She followed me here.
I know what you're thinking.
You're just like the rest of them.
You think I'm crazy.
Lost my mind.
That's why I'm in here.
She's why I'm in here.
You see, I didn't want to do anything wrong.
I didn't want to hurt that man, but she told me to.
She picked out the knife.
I couldn't tell her no.
At first, she was my friend, made me feel confident.
But things took a turn for the worse when I started ignoring her.
She would ask me questions like,
Have you forgotten me? Every time, I would lie and tell her no. She would crawl into my bed at night
and whisper horrible things into my ears. She was appalling, and I never wanted to look her in the eyes.
Those dark, steely eyes like death. Days turned to weeks, as I tried my best to hide from her
and block her out of my mind. I would take pills to ease the pain. I've been in this room for days now.
I can't sleep. I can't eat. All I can do is think about her. I know deep down that an asylum is
where I belong, especially after what I did to that man. I know she's close again, and I know what she
wants. I begged the doctors and guards to let me out, let me out before she comes, let me out,
and I'll be good, I promise. But they laugh and tell me to shut my mouth. When I don't, they give
me a heavy dose of treatment. Tonight will be different. Tonight I will escape. My voice cracks as I
gain the nerve to speak up. Can I please use the bathroom? I yell through my cage. Luckily,
new nurse is on her shift tonight. She feels sorry for me. I convince her to give me a minute to
myself in the restroom. This is it. This is when I'll run. But I can't. She's here. Tears begin to
stream down my face as I approach her. I haven't seen her in days, maybe even weeks. And as I
look deeply into the mirror in front of me, there she is, marks on her wrists. Her soulless eyes
pitch black, a slight smile on her face. She controls me. She tells me it's time. Again,
I must obey.
I tightly pull the bedding around my neck with a makeshift knot.
And before I take a final step, I look back into the mirror at her as her smile turns quickly
to a frown before everything goes dark.
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Do you know the story of Demented Dolores?
She was a patient at Grand Meadows Asylum in the mid-1900s.
Her name might seem funny, but the reasons behind it are far from humorous.
Dolores grew up as a single child in an abusive family home.
She had a stutter, and at the time, many thought the inability to speak clearly was a sign of mental disability or even possession.
Furthermore, she would elicit pain upon herself because of her untreated depression, many times trying to kill herself, but never succeeding.
Dolores' parents seeked out a hospital where they could send her in the hopes that the stutter and self-abuse of behavior would stop.
Grand Meadows seemed like the best fit, as it was a cheaper option and a family friend, Dr.
Arthur Barlow worked there. Delores was sent away for weeks at a time, without any communication
with her parents. Rumor had it that she was abused daily by Dr. Barlow, the so-called family
friend. He would chain her to a bed and do unimaginable things to her. When Dolores tried to
tell the staff, her stutter prevented her from speaking effectively. This caused further depression
and self-abuse. Dr. Barlow specialized in a procedure that was once known as transorbital lobotomy. This
involves entering a patient's frontal lobe of the brain through the entryway of the eye, then
severing tissue to supposedly fix whatever problem was occurring. There was little to know research
on this technique, and the results were drastic and mostly fatal. Unfortunately for Dolores,
she had to endure the procedure, but the abusive doctor tried to push his limits, take the procedure
even further using techniques to work his way back into Dolores' brain to reach Brocka's area.
This area of the brain control speech, he made a mistake and instead found his way in Dolores' temporal lobe, located closer to the ears.
The temporal lobe is the part of the brain that controls intellect, emotional functions, memories, and behavior.
After the procedure was done, Dr. Barlow thought for sure that he had fixed Dolores for good,
that her memories of abuse would be gone, and her speech would be corrected.
He learned that he was dead wrong.
Days after the procedure, Dolores started speaking.
without stutter, but in obscure languages and sounds. Her eyes would remain fixed and wide.
People began refusing to speak with her, because they truly thought that she was possessed.
She would growl at them, roll her eyes back, and smile. She needed to be in constant restraints
for fear of what she might do. Dr. Barlow saw his procedure as a failure and decided he must try again,
but this time, severing as many connections as he could. It is said that during the second
lobotomy, Dolores remained awake with a smile on her face, staring directly at Dr. Barlow
the whole time without movement. After completion of the second procedure, Dolores grew further and
further, demented, for lack of a better term. She would sing late at night in her room,
strapped back by restraints, laughing at the staff as they checked on her. One night,
Dolores was able to wiggle free of the straps. A nurse performing her nightly checks found
Dolores standing at an open window. The nurse immediately ran to get Dr. Barlow. The nurse
found what was left of Dr. Barlow. There were bite marks all over his body. Pieces of flesh were
strewn about the floor. His body was cold to the touch. He had been dead for quite some time.
Before the nurse could turn her back, she heard a voice. It is time for your treatment, honey.
Just relax, and everything will be okay.
Hey, everyone. If you enjoy listening to these stories, please take a second to leave a
review for the podcast, especially if you're tuning in on Apple Podcasts. This greatly helps the
podcast grow and reach more people. Thank you so much. And now back to the story.
There's an old insane asylum in downstate Mississippi that people don't seem to talk about much
anymore. They closed it back in the 50s. And for decades, it had been abandoned. No one wants to buy it.
And it's a good thing, because people say it is one of the most haunted places in the South.
I'm not one for believing in such stories, but people refuse to get anywhere close to that thing.
There is an old myth that's been going around about the things that happened in that place.
Parents of children born with abnormalities would send them there in the hopes that their kids would somehow be healed.
But that's not the worst part.
It's what happened in that place that truly makes my skin crawl.
These children were used as a sample study for new drugs and medical procedure testing.
Many new medications that had not been tested on humans were used.
Grotesque procedures that caused more physical harm than good were conducted.
They were lab rats, and almost all of the medications and procedures were deadly.
The parents knew what was going on, but allowed it, because they thought maybe one of these
studies would work.
They closed the place down when word got out.
At that point, it was too late.
Hundreds of children perished due to the activities in that building.
There was an investigation after the shutdown, which showed that all the bodies of patients,
which had succumbed to this testing, were burned in the basement's makeshift crematorium.
People believe this is one of the main reasons it's so haunted.
Most of the medical equipment is still there, untouched,
and left exactly how it was decades prior.
I visited that dilapidated old building in the past,
and I swore to myself that I would never go back.
The minute you step foot inside the confines of that old asylum,
you feel the temperature began to drop.
You can see your breath a few inches in front of your face,
even on the summer night.
The wailing sounds and cries echo through the hallways.
There was an old challenge that nobody wanted.
wanted to do, going down to the basement and into the crematorium room. I was one of the only
people that made it down there. However, I never had the courage to go into that room. Upon
making it all the way downstairs, I didn't feel right. My vision started to blur, and I started
to hallucinate, or so I thought. The crying was deafening, but I continued moving forward. The stench
was almost unbearable. I had the room in my sight as I crept forward, but I only made it halfway
through that basement. I wanted to continue forward, but then I saw children, dozens of them,
running toward me, screaming for help, their faces distorted, their movements petrifying. The only thing
I remember was running, running back out the way I came in, and then straight home. It was from that
moment on that I promised never to go back. I only hope others would heed my warning.
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