Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - 3 Lockdown Horror Stories (Compilation of January 2023)

Episode Date: January 13, 2023

🎧 Check out The SCP Experience podcast here: https://spoti.fi/3juM1og 🎉 Ad-free episodes + bonus episodes: https://www.patreon.com/drnosleep 🎥 YouTube: https://youtube.com/c/DrNoSleep �� Send all advertising inquiries to: [e-mail] Author: Matt Doggett Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/MatthewDoggettAuthor/ Website/Newsletter sign up: matthewdoggettauthor.com New Book Releases: https://www.amazon.com/Matthew-G-Doggett/e/B08FD5378Z DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content. Parental guidance is advised for children under the age of 18. Listen at your own discretion. #drnosleep #scarystories #horrorstories #doctornosleep #truescarystories #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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My head jerks sideways as my father's hand collides with left side of my face. But this time, I keep to my feet. He releases a long, wordless whale as he brings his hand back, as if to hit me again. His brown eyes are brimming with tears above his bushy black beard. Damn it, boy! He says, voice raw with emotion. Damn it, I told you. I told you. I stand defiant next to the boarded up window. I managed to get one nail out before my father snuck up behind me. I thought he was asleep. I was wrong. You gonna hit me again?

I shout. Come on! He jerks forward, grabbing the base of my neck with his large, callous hands. I think he's going to throttle me at first, but he yanks me toward his chest, pulling me into a too tight hug. What can I do to make you understand? He whimpers. Tell me what I can do. Over his shoulder, I see my sister appear in the hall outside the den, drawn by the resounding slap.

She runs up in her sock feet. Short, brunette hair bouncing as she rushes into the room. What happened? She asks. Dad doesn't answer. He just shifts and pulls Amy in with one arm, hugging us both tight. I know this is hard, he says to us. Hardest thing ever, really.

But I need you two to understand that you can't leave. You can't. It's not safe out there. It's the same story we've been told for the last two years, and it's getting old. I push away, slipping my head out of his arm. I wasn't going to leave, I say. I just wanted to look. I just wanted to see the trees and the sun for it changed.

Dad shakes his head, letting go of Amy. That's how it starts, he says. First, you'll only want to look. Then you'll want to venture into the yard. Then you'll want to head into the woods. Best to just not start. I'm sorry, but that's the way. It is.

It's been two years, Daddy, Amy says. Can't we just look out? Just for a few minutes? I mean, you get to go outside. Why can't we? Dad shakes his head again, wiping tears away. I know you're both at an age where staying cooped up in here seems like the worst thing possible. I remember being 17, but I can't imagine how hard this is on you both.

I never had to go through anything like this when I was your age. But the fact is, you need to be mentally prepared to go out there. Because they'll try to trick you. They will. Who will? I ask. Them, he says. They're the ones out there now. There are no more people like you or me. That's what you keep saying, I say.

But how are we supposed to believe you if we haven't ever seen them? This is not up for discussion. You're not ready. and if I find you trying to pry another board off a window or open a door, I'll be forced to institute a strict lockdown. Stricter than this? I say, nearly shouting. But my dad is already walking out of the room. A few moments later, he returns with a hammer and several nails.

He repairs the damage I did and adds an extra nail to each side of the board covering the window. It's about time to start dinner, he says. better get to it. Amy and I share a look. Then we walk out of the den, heading for the kitchen. I heard a plane again. I tell her when we're out of ear shot. Her eyes widened. You did? Smiling at her excitement. She's only a year younger than me, but she'll always be my baby sister. Sure did. That's why I was trying to get the board off. I thought dad was napping. I wish I could hear a plane, Amy says. Or anything, really.

I thought I heard an engine two the other day. I tell her. But it might have been thunder. It was so distant, I couldn't tell. We fall silent as we reach the kitchen. Dad spent a couple of hours outside today, harvesting vegetables from the garden and slaughtering a chicken for our next few meals.

What I wouldn't give to go outside with him, even for just a few minutes. But no. He says I'm not ready, thinks I'm still just. a kid. We start preparing dinner, working in silence. Dad comes through the kitchen with the hammer and heads down to his room on the first floor. When dinner is almost ready, I head downstairs to tell Dad. As I approach his room, I pass the back door, which is locked from the

inside with a metal chain around two metal hasps, one fixed to the door and the other to the wall. Dad keeps the padlock key around his neck. The other door to the cabin is so well. The other door to the cabin is so boarded up that it would take me hours to get it open. As always, I check to see if the lock is securely fastened. It is. I noticed Dad's door is closed, which is only the case when he's drinking, something that's been happening more and more recently. I don't know how much liquor he managed to stow away before we went into lockdown,

but he must be getting low. Pausing outside his room, I pressed my ear to the door. Every day they keep pushing me and pushing me. I hear him say. And it's getting harder and harder for me to resist them. Sometimes I just want to give in. To let them do whatever they want, at least it would end the turmoil.

I wouldn't have to feel like this anymore. There's a pause, and I hear the sound of liquid gurgling from a bottle. It's my dad taking a swig of liquor. I knock on the door even as I turn the knob and walk in. Startled, my dad quickly puts the bottle of whiskey down beside the recliner he's sitting in. He has a framed photo of my mother in his left hand. Dinner's about ready, I say. Okay, he says, sniffling.

I'm coming. We don't talk much through dinner. When we're done eating, Amy and I do the cleanup. Then she heads to her room just down the hall for mine on the second floor. I go to my room and collapse onto my bed. As I lie in my bed, staring at the board over my window with nails every two inches, I hear a strange murmuring from outside. At first, I think it's the wind.

But it seems to get louder or closer, and I realize it's people. I can't hear what they're saying. But the conversation seems casual, judging by the tone. Sounds like a couple of girls, walking by in the woods, chatting. I jump up from my bed and rush to Amy's room. Did you hear that? I ask.

She sits up in her bed, setting her book aside. Hear what? People! I say. Outside. I hear them talking. Really? Yes, I say. Just be quiet for a minute. We stay still, listening.

I even hold my breath. But I can't hear the people anymore. I don't hear anything, Amy says. They must be gone. But they can't have made it far. If we can get out there, you're kidding. Amy says. How? You heard what Dad said.

He's been drinking, I tell her. I bet I can get the key from her. around his neck. Amy's eyes go wide as her mouth drops open. It's unthinkable. You wouldn't. Why not? I say. Dad goes out there every couple of days. Why the hell can't we? If he comes back fine, then we can too. Amy bites her lip, considering. You really hurt people? And are playing? I really did. I say. I mean, what if this is all just made up? All this stuff happened right after mom died. What if it's completely normal out there. Amy shakes her head. You saw the news reports back then, she says. Something happened, even if they didn't know exactly what. Yeah, I know something happened.

I say, but that was two years ago. What if everything is fine now? I mean, why else would there be planes flying around and people hiking through the woods? Maybe, Amy says. And why would it be safe for Dad to go out, but not us? Does that make any sense to you? No. I think Dad has just gone off the deep end. Since Mom died, he's terrified of losing us. So he's kept us cooped up in here, even though whatever happened is cured or solved or whatever. Amy looks like she's coming around,

but she's not quite there yet. So I push on. Listen, Amy, I heard Dad talking to Mom's picture again tonight. He feels guilty. He was saying how he wanted us to just do whatever we want so he could stop feeling guilty. He said that. I nod.

Yeah, in so many words. Amy takes a deep breath. Okay, she says. See if you can get the key. But if you get caught, I didn't know anything about it. I smile. Deal. I can hear my dad snoring as I creep down the stairs.

His door is open, as it usually is, because he likes to be able to hear if we start messing with the chain on the back door. As I get to his door, I look inside. He's passed out in the recliner next to his bed. My mom's picture in his lap, and I can see the padlock key on the leather strap around his neck. Moving closer, I stop and wait. Dad? I whisper.

Nothing. He's out. Using just the tips of my fingers, I twist the necklace so I can see the metal clasp. I unhook the clasp and then pull the necklace off. My dad doesn't make a move. I head back over to the stairwell to find Amy there, her shoes on and my shoes in her hand. She gives them to me, and I put them on as quickly as I can. I'm shaking with excitement.

She also has a flashlight. I probably would have forgotten about a flashlight in my excitement. Moving as slowly and as gently as possible, I undo the padlock and remove the chain, setting it down next to the doorway. Then I unlock the two dead bolts and the knob. Amy and I look at each other in the dimly lit hallway. We smile. The smell of pine trees and fresh earth overwhelms me as I open the door.

Amy and I slip out into the darkness. I shut the door gently behind us. Amy clicks the flashlight on and shines it around. Our yard is fenced in, and there are several raised garden beds within the chain lake fencing. The chicken coop is on the other side of the cabin. We can hear the chickens clucking every so often. She turns the beam outward, shining at the pine trees around the property.

There's nothing much to see, just trees. But it's still the thrill of a lifetime for me, being outside after so long. The sound of a young woman's laughter splits the air from off in the woods. Did you hear that? I asked Amy. She nods, smiling. When I look back out into the woods, I noticed the glow of a fire illuminating the trees just over the low ridge. Suddenly, I can smell the fire on the wind. Let's go check it out, I say. Heading toward the gate without waiting for an answer,

Amy follows, lighting the way. As we approach the crest, we slow down, looking over. Sure enough, there are three teenage girls sitting around a campfire, joking and laughing. Amy and I look at each other with wide eyes. As we're about to discuss our next move, one of the girls calls out to us. Hey, don't be scared. Come join us. She's a very pretty girl.

In fact, all of them are. I can't believe my luck. Okay. I say, I start forward and Amy follows a few steps behind. All three faces are turned toward us, smiling and easygoing. I'm Jenny. The one who already spoke says. Do you guys live in that cabin down there?

Yeah, I say. I'm Brandon, and this is Amy. Nice to meet you, Jared. Amy says. I turned to look at her. Jared? I think. What is she talking about? No!

A scream cuts the air from behind us. My dad! Amy and I flinch, turning around at the same time to see Dad running toward us through the woods, his shotgun in hand. What? I say, turning back around to face the teenagers. Jenny, the nearest one, lunges at me.

As her hands touch the skin of my neck, reality seems to rip before my eyes. No longer is there a pretty teenage girl in front of me. There's a creature with wide, deep-set eyes and a craggy, blackish-gray face. A crooked grin with cracked teeth sits on the bottom half of its face, under red slits for nostrils. It's tendril-like fingers wrap around my throat. I can feel something entering my skull, but I'm not sure if it's something physical or more of a psychological invasion. They'll try to trick you, my dad said earlier.

His words repeat in my head as terror freezes my bones. After a moment, I feel a terrible, unending crack form in my mind. mind. A world too awful to comprehend suddenly becomes my reality. I can feel billions of other minds locked in with mine, all half insane and gibbering, pleading for release. I can feel all their pain and their sorrow and their fear, and it's never ending. And I can feel them, the creatures, feeding on it. I understand them suddenly. Time folds in on itself, and I can see them, taunting my father on the days he came outside to work in the garden or get eggs. I can see them, taking the form of my mother, telling him things that only she could know.

They tried to get him to come out into the woods, into their territory, but he resisted. Until now, until I drew him out here, I'm vaguely aware of the sound of a shotgun going on. A creature screams. I notice out of the corner of my eye a creature pouncing on Amy, and I can feel it as her mind joins the fray, adding her darkness to the infinite turmoil. The shotgun fires again, and another crime. Creature screams, but it's not dead. They can't die.

Not with violence, only starvation. My dad comes into view. I see him look from me to Amy and back as he pumps another shell into the chamber. Then he turns the barrel on himself. The shotgun fires, and then I'm pulled out all the way out of reality and into hell. But before my world becomes nothing but agony, my last coherent thought is for my dad. At least he escaped this fate.

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Story 2. My turn. The room in the boutique hotel was simple enough. It had a bed and a bathroom and a television. But best of all, it had a window looking out onto a pristine sandy beach in turquoise water. It wasn't like we'd be spending much time in the hotel anyway. Abby and I had all kinds of fun activities planned on the remote island, and we'd paid a small fortune for this vacation, so we were determined to make the most of it.

But as we arrived at the three-story hotel, we were feeling the effects of jet lag from flying halfway around the world. So our plan was to get some serious sleep. I'm going to take a shower, Abby said when we settled in. Please do. I said from the bed, waving a hand in front of my nose. Abby smiled, but her eyes narrowed. I was going to suggest we full around once I got out, but I don't know about that anymore.

I take it back, I take it back. I said, pleading. We both laughed, and then she went to take her shower. I flipped on the television. There was a popular superhero movie on, but it was dubbed in the local language. At least there were subtitles. Zoning out. I closed my eyes for a few minutes.

But when the building started shaking, I jumped up from the bed, looking around in confusion. The television shorted out, along with the lights. I ran into the bathroom as the shaking continued. Abby was shouting, and the water suddenly shut off. Grabbing a towel, I ripped open the shower curtain and helped her out. Then we both crouched in the bathroom doorway. We had the shades open on a beautiful sunny afternoon.

But something had happened to the sunlight. The room was totally dark. After about a minute, the shaking stopped and things settled. Still, we stayed in the doorway. Abby's blonde hair was still dripping as she clutched the ends of the towel to her chest. Earthquake? she asked. Must have been, I said. The room was still dark.

I couldn't see anything. Stay here. I went over to the window, seeing nothing but darkness. Like a black blanket had been thrown over the window's exterior. I reached around on the nightstand for my phone. When I lit it up, it showed I had no service. What the hell is happening? I whispered.

Did you close the shades earlier? Abby asked. No, I... Suddenly, the lights in the room came back on. The sound of water hitting the shower basin came from the bathroom. The television came back on, but there was only a blue screen. And the window remained dark. I swallowed hard and moved back over to Abby.

No service, I said, showing her my phone. I helped her up, and she went to check her phone. Stepping to the door, I tried the knob. It moved, but I couldn't open the door. Then I remembered the deadbolt. I unlocked it, and then tried again. The door didn't budge. So I leaned forward and peered out through the peephole.

The hallway looked normal. There was no one out there. The door across from us was closed. Then, from the left, someone came into view, distorted by the fish-eye lens. No, it was two people. A sliver of dread stabbed through me as the people, a man and a woman, walked right up to our door.

As the man looked up, I jumped away from the peephole, producing a frightened grunt. What's wrong? Abby asked from further in the room. It's us, I said, not really believing the words myself. What? I shook my head, trying to come back to my senses. I stepped back to the peephole.

The hall was empty again. What did you see? Abby said, coming up next to me, grabbing my hand. I saw us in the hallway, walking up to the door, just like when we got here. Abby shook her head, brows furrowed. Then she moved forward and looked for herself. There's nothing there. You're right, I said. You're right. See if you can open the door. I sat on the bed while Abby trying, to no avail, to open the door. I kept looking from my phone to the black window. I couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was happening. Abby tried to phone the front desk, but she didn't even get a dial tone on the landline.

We were stuck. I'm sure someone will come check on us soon. We can't be the only ones in the hotel, Abby said. We tried our best to pretend like everything was okay. We even tried to sleep, but it was no use. Our phones still kept time, so we watched as the hours drop. away. There was still electricity, so we were able to charge our phones and computers, but we couldn't access the internet or call anyone. We couldn't communicate with the outside world. 24 hours passed and nothing happened. We banged on the door and the walls, we ate the few snacks we had, and we drank water out of the faucet. The blackness outside the window never changed. Every so often, I would try to open the door again. When I decided I tried to bring

Break it down, Abby talked me out of it. She was certain someone would be coming soon. I wasn't so sure. On the second night, Abby was snoozing lightly when I heard something from out in the hall. I jumped up and rushed to the peephole, looking out. The door across from us opened, and an Asian couple walked out, rolling their suitcases behind them and chatting in a language I couldn't understand. I banged on the door and screamed, waking Abby, but the couple made no sign that they even heard me.

and by the time Abby got to the door, they were gone. I could tell she didn't believe me. After all, I was the only one who had seen anything out the peephole. I'm telling you, there were people there. I heard them talking, I said. Fine, I believe you. Is that what you want to hear? I guess they were deaf, even though they were talking.

You don't fucking believe me! I shouted. Don't lie to me. Don't shout at me. Abby said in a low voice. Remember what Dr. Shelton said about yelling. Fuck Dr. Shelton!

Don't you see that we're screwed here? If we don't get out of here, we're going to starve to death. Abby stormed past me and into the bathroom, slamming the door. Another day passed. We didn't speak much. Our hunger and fear took up our thoughts and energy. We just laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. We kept the light on, unable to bear the pitch dark.

Finally, sleep came to me. but it didn't last long. Josh! Abby called, jerking me awake. Josh! She was in the little hallway next to the bathroom. I stepped to the foot of the bed and saw the box, sitting just inside the door.

What the hell is that? I asked. Did you get the door open? No! Abby said, almost crying. It still won't open. The box was just sitting here when I came to use the bathroom. I skirted the box, careful not to touch it.

It looked like hardwere. but not quite. The texture was wrong, like it was slicker than cardboard, slightly shinier. After looking out the peephole and seeing nothing but the empty hallway, I tried the door. It still wouldn't open. Come on! I screamed, banging on the door. After a minute of this, I'd warn myself out. Are you done?

Abby asked. You really think that's going to help anything? I ignored her and turned my attention to the box. It was closed. The two long flaps pressed together on top, but there was no tape holding them in place. And when I touched the top of the box, the two flaps opened. Working carefully, I opened the box and looked inside. I think it's food, I said.

Abby, who'd been standing back with a blank look on her face, seemed to snap out of her days. Really? Inside the box were small rectangular bars. They were the same color as the cardboard, but they had a different texture. I could smell them. They smelled like those all-natural granola bars you get for five bucks a piece at health food stores. My stomach rumbled. I reached in and grabbed one, lifting and taking a bite out of it while Abby yelled for me to stop.

Are you kidding me? She said. You're just going to eat it? Just like that? It was the best thing I'd ever tasted. I closed my eyes and made a small moan as I chewed. What do you want me to do? Send it off to the lab to have it tested?

I said, but my heart wasn't in the fight. I scarfed the rest of the bar down and had to stop myself from eating another one. It's not like there wasn't plenty in the box. There was, probably 48 or more of the things, but I wanted to wait to see if there were any ill effects before eating more. Abby made it about an hour, asking me how I felt every five minutes before she ate one. With some food in my stomach,

I finally fell asleep for a little. little while. Two more days passed. Even though we now had food to eat, it gave us little solace. The stress, combined with the close quarters, meant Abby and I were yelling at each other for what seemed like once every two hours. Finally, in the middle of another fight, I stormed to the bathroom and slammed the door, locking it. Abby came to the door and started tapping on it, egging me on. She wanted to keep fighting. So I turned on the shower and sat under the warm water, not even bothering to take off my clothes. I sat there for a long time. At some point, I turned off the water and took off my wet clothes. After drying off and hanging my clothes,

I unlocked the door and headed out of the bathroom to find the hotel room door open. I froze, looking out the open door and into the hallway. Abby? No answer. Holding the towel around my waist with one hand, I moved into the room. It was empty. Abby was gone. I ran into the hallway, looking frantically left and right. Abby? No answer. Holding the towel around my waist with one hand, I moved into the room. It was empty. Abby was gone. I ran into the hallway, looking frantically left and right. Abby! The hallway lights were on, and I could see a window at the end of the hall to my right. It was pitch black on the other side of the glass, just like the window in our room. Running to the left, I rounded the corner toward the stairs and the elevator.

No sign of Abby. I hit the elevator button, but nothing happened. It didn't light up, so I tried the door to the stairwell. It wouldn't budge. I ran back the other way, passing the room and stopping when I got to the window. What the fuck! I screamed, punching the window. A sharp pain shot through my hand, and I knew I'd broken something.

The window remained unlawed. unmanned. Clenching my teeth and gripping my right hand below the wrist with my left, I stumbled back to the room, tears streaming down my face. And as I came to the door, I noticed something on it. There was a small device fastened over the peephole, almost like a little version of those doorbell cameras people have. I couldn't remember if it was there when we came to the room, but as I looked around, I saw that every door had one. I went across the hall and banged on the door. There was no answer. I did the same with three other doors. Nothing. I turned back and went into my room, leaving the door open about halfway. I stepped behind it and looked through the peephole,

and I saw the hallway as it would have been if the door had been closed. But it wasn't closed all the way. I should have seen the door jam and only half the hallway, but I didn't. Whatever the device was on the other side of the door, it was playing a recording of the hallway. As I was contemplating this, the sound of movement came from inside the room. Abby? I said, hair standing up on my neck. I crept past the bathroom and into the room. I could see the back of Abby's head just beyond the bed,

as if she were sitting on the floor with her back against the bed. I rushed over toward her. Abby, baby, I... The words jammed in my throat as I saw my girlfriend. Her parts were all mixed up. Her mouth was on her forehead, her tongue hanging limply out. One of her eyes was on her... left cheek. The other one was where her mouth should have been. Her nose had been turned,

her nostrils pointing to the left instead of down. Her left leg had been swapped with her left arm. She looked up at me with confused eyes, then tried to get up. She managed to get to her right leg, but when she tried to walk, she stumbled into the window. I moved back, watching as her left leg twitched and worked where it came out of her t-shirt at her left shoulder. She kept trying to get up. Her eyes rolled in desperation. My mouth wanted to work, but there was nothing to say. I was sure I'd gone insane. Back in the real world, my blubbering body was a vegetable. Maybe I'd been in an accident, severe head injury. As I back toward the hall, I'd passed the television, which suddenly switched on. This time, there was an actual program on, instead of a blue screen.

It was a news program. In English, there was an aerial view of a pristine beach and turquoise water, but the tranquility of the scene was in stark contrast to the mess of rebar and plumbing and wiring that stuck out of the ground where a building had once stood. The building I was in now, the hotel. Still no hotel, say that. The words were drowned out by the blood rushing in my ears. Abby stumbled toward me, reaching out with the right hand as she balanced. on her right leg. She grabbed my left hand and jammed it up to her throat. It took me a moment to realize she was asking me to kill her. I shook my head and yanked my hand away as panic closed in. Backing toward the door, my only thought was to run. But I couldn't go anywhere. There was no escape.

And as I backed up to the doorway, I felt the strong, cold grip of hands with too many fingers around my arms and legs. Something slimy clamped around my face, keeping me from shouting out or seeing the culprits. I fought as they dragged me down the hallway, but it was no use. The observation portion of the experiment was over. Now, they were going to take me apart and put me back together. It was my turn. Look, Air Canada, did a sold world. Super, an offer for the assort. Station thermal, volcano. Parlant of volcanoes. You've seen the price for the Japan?

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The conditions can't apply. Story 3, here comes the night. The line of cars ahead of me curves around and down toward the parking garage's

exit, two floors below. I'm on the third floor of the five-story garage. It's the end of another long day. When I first started working here, I tried to duck out of the office early so I wouldn't have to wait 10 or 15 minutes just to get out of the poorly designed garage. But I quickly realized that it didn't matter what time I left. I would always get stuck, waiting as the line slowly dwindled down.

Of course, if I wanted to stick around in the office until 7 or 8, I could get out of the garage in a matter of minutes. But that wasn't an option. So here I sit, once again. The skyscrapers outside are painted with the last rays of dull orange sunshine as the night expands into its fullness. The car ahead of me inches forward. I follow suit, moving no more than two feet. Cars, trucks, and SUVs choke the narrow aisle. Some poor suckers are sitting in their cars, still in their parking spots.

They won't be able to get out for a long time. Not unless some good Samaritan stops and lets us. them back up. But it won't be me. Not today. There's some kind of commotion ahead, where the line of cars curves to the left, down the ramp to the second level. I hear the faint squeal of tires over the podcast I have playing in my vehicle, followed by the muted crash of a fender bender. Oh, great, I say, just what we need. Then there's another, louder crash, and more tires squealing on the concrete. A young man in an off-the-rack suit comes running around the corner. huffing from sprinting up the ramp.

His eyes are wide, and he's looking at the people in the car as he passes, yelling something. I roll down my window as he approaches. Run! He screams. Run! Beyond him, I see several other people run around the corner. There are men and women, all dressed in business casual. One woman with glasses and a tangerine dress trips,

just as she's rounding the concrete pillar that blocks my view of the ramp. She lands with her upper body visible to me. And just as she's getting to her hands and knees, she's yanked backwards so fast her glasses fly off. Bright lights flare from the car in front of me as the guy puts his sedan in reverse. Before I can react, he hits the gas and slams into the front of my Nissan road.

I look in my rearview mirror and see that the car behind me is right on my tail. I'm not going anywhere. Not in my vehicle anyway. I put it in park, panic expanding in my chest like a terrible balloon. No more people are going to be. are running up from the lower level, but I can hear screaming from down there.

I grab my phone out of the cradle, open the door, and jump out. And I sprint back along the line of cars, heading toward the stairwell. If I can get to the ground, I can get help. But just as I reach the stairwell, which is next to the two elevators, I nearly crash into a balding guy who works in my office. He's coming up out of the stairwell. Todd! I say, looking into his eyes, I can't look for long.

There's something about them, something haunting. and as I glanced down, I see blood on his black shoes and brown pants. Fresh blood. Don't go that way, he says. Why? What's happening? I was down there, Jamie. I saw something. What? What the hell is going on? Can we get out that way?

Todd shakes his head. It's on lockdown. The metal gates came down. The pedestrian doors are locked. There's no way out down there. I run over to the nearest side of the parking garage and look down at the sidewalk below. As I'm watching, I see a man jump out from the floor below, screaming. He lands hard on his feet and curls into a roll. He comes up and sprints into the street without so much as a glance either way. The driver of a city bus hits her brakes, but it's too late.

The man is lost from view as he slammed to the ground and pulled under the bus. Eyes wide and disbelief, the bus driver looks around frantically. Her eyes land on the parking garage. She sees something there on the floor below me, and she screams. I can hear it even though her window is closed. She jams on the gas and the bus streaks away. Meanwhile, other traffic has stopped on the one-way road. People step out of their cars, cell phones to their ears as they call the police.

Then something large and dark soars past overhead. I look up only to see a brief glimpse of what looks like a large shadow disappearing around a building. The sound of metal distorting and glass breaking draws my attention back into the garage. People are now screaming as they ditch their cars, heading past me up the ramp between the third and fourth floors. I look back at the little alcove with the stairwell and elevators. It's jammed with people, pushing and shoving, trying to escape. A car comes flying into view like something out of the movies, tumbling through the air. It smashes into the alcove. I turn away on instinct before I see the carnage and run up the ramp to the fourth level. As I run, I call 911. I'm greeted with a recording.

telling me that all call takers are busy. Once again, I make it to the side of the structure and look over the concrete railing, only this time I'm looking down from the fourth level. Half of the cars on the street below look to have been abandoned. Their doors left open, drivers nowhere in sight. As I watch, several cars try to work their way through the abandoned vehicles.

They crash into each other at low speeds, reversing and hitting the gas again as they frantically try to leave. What the hell is happening? There's a whoosh sound from above me. I look up but see nothing. Just the last of the fading twilight and the darkening sky. Meanwhile, they're still screaming and crashing from below. I decide to run up to the top floor of the parking structure

to try and see what's going on. Huffing, I reached the fifth level, which is open to the sky. Buildings of various sizes crowd the view. There's a group of people huddling in one corner, looking fearfully up at the sky. I glance up, trying to see what they're seeing. There's nothing, just a sky going from dark blue to black. But then I see something.

It doesn't look like much more than a dark shadow, detaching itself from the side of a building, some 200 feet above. At first, I think it's a black tarp the way it floats. But then it changes shape, like a bird narrowing its wings to dive-bomb its prey. It streaks toward the group of people at the corner, It's inky blackness morphing as it goes. The people see it coming. Some of them scream.

Others shout. Others pray to God. The smart ones scatter. Diving under nearby cars are simply sprinting in any random direction. My eyes are locked on the thing, my mind grappling, searching for some explanation, and coming up short. The shadow swoops down onto the remaining people. Tentacles made of the darkest night shoot down, grabbing a half dozen of them and yanking them off the ground.

Then the shadow is airborne again, turning on giant wings that aren't really wings at all. The thing streaks toward me, the six screaming and pleading people hanging beneath it. Without thinking, I reach up and grab a woman by the leg trying to save her to rip her away from the thing. My feet leave the ground, and before I know it, I'm 15 feet in the air and quickly approaching the side of the parking garage. But my eyes are still locked on the thing. I watch as the tentacles pull the people up into the pool of midnight that is the creature's body. As they're pulled up, the tops of their heads touched the underside. Little tendrils of night creep down, shooting into their eyes, turning them pure white.

The people stopped screaming as they're pulled further in, their mouths lost to the black void. Realizing the same fate awaits me, I finally wrench my eyes away and look down past my feet. The cars below are the size of hot wheels. The parking garage is several hundred feet under and behind me, but I see that we're approaching a skyscraper. My hands are sweaty around the woman's ankle. My shoulders scream from holding my weight. The people are now up to their waists in the creature. Just a few more moments, and I'll be sucked in, too.

I look toward the skyscraper. Yes, the creature's going to fly over it. My hands are slippery. Just another couple of moments. Just as I'm about to let go, the creature changes direction, skimming over the corner of the skyscraper. I have no choice. I let go.

And slam into the edge of the building, hooking my arms over the side. My feet scramble for purchase on the vertical exterior. With a loud grunt, I pull myself over and collapse onto the flat roof. On my back, I look up at the sky, breathing hard, processing what just happened. I can see a couple of bright stars coming out, despite the city's light pollution. From far down below, I hear a symphony of sirens. Finally, I get up to my knees and look out to the west.

From here, I can see far enough to spot the western horizon, where the sun is still setting. But what I see sends a spike of pure terror into my chest. The entire western horizon is crowded with black shadows. They undulate and swoop and dive, like massive predatory birds and a flock large enough to blot out the sun.