Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - 3 Lockdown Horror Stories (Compilation of September 2022)

Episode Date: September 30, 2022

🎧 Check out The SCP Experience podcast here: https://spoti.fi/3juM1og 🎉 Ad-free bonus stories + exclusive uncensored animations: https://www.patreon.com/drnosleep 🎥 YouTube: https://youtube.com/c/DrNoSleep ✅ Send all advertising inquiries to: [e-mail] Author: Ryan Major Check out more of his work here: https://www.reddit.com/r/gtripp14/ 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

Welcome to aboard Via Raii. Embarked and profite. Embarked and celebrate. Rigolet. Publiere. Savoyed. Admire. Admirate. And profite. Viaray, the voice that we love. Talk to nice sleep. Story 1. Outbreak.

I woke up to my wife sobbing gently in the bed beside me. Our tiny passenger cabin on the cruise liner acted like an echo chamber, turning her gentle weeping into echoed, cries. When I opened my eyes, the soft light from under the door illuminated the room in a light that sent thin shadows crawling up the walls. My eyes focused in the darkness to see Nancy sitting up in bed. She was clutching the phone from our bedside table in her hands. A soft voice was speaking through the earpiece, but I couldn't understand what they were saying. Nancy, I said in a gentle tone. Is everything all right? I don't know, Marvin. She replied, I'm scared.

Who was on the phone? I asked, pushing myself up into a sitting position. Something wrong with the kids back home? Nancy's muffled crying morphed into defined whales when I mentioned the children. That cruise was the first trip we'd taken without the kids. It was our 10th anniversary celebration, and we decided to make it just the two of us. I'm glad we didn't bring them. Who knows if they would have made it back home? Can you tell me what's wrong, sweetie? I asked again.

She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing but mournful sounds came out. I tried to give her a minute to collect herself, but her composure didn't return. Gently, I pulled the phone from her hand and held it to my ear. This is the Sea Lantern Cruise Line information. Center. We regret to inform you that multiple cases of norovirus have been reported aboard the ship.

At this time, we will be instituting a lockdown measure to slow the spread of the infection. All passengers are to remain in their rooms until inspected by SLCL medical personnel. If you are suffering from vomiting, diarrhea, or cramping, please report this to medical staff during your checkup. You will be reimbursed for any and all ports of call canceled due to this unfortunate event. Thank you for choosing Sea Lantern Cruise Lines. You may hang up now. This message will play on a loop. This is Sea Lantern Cruise Line.

I leaned across Nancy and sat the phone back on the hook, pulling her close. I squeezed her tightly to my side and felt her body shudder. She clutched my leg and I could feel her nails begin to be. to sink into my skin. Easy, Nancy, I proclaimed, as I reached down to check if she had broken my skin. What has you so worked up? No real virus is no big deal. Nancy sat up and turned her head toward me.

Even in the dim light, I could see the fear in her eyes. Her jaw quivered as she tried to find her voice. No, it isn't a big deal, Marvin. She replied shakily. We went on a cruise with the kids two years back. There was a big outbreak of norovirus then, too. The ship didn't go on lockdown. I ran my hands through my hair.

She was right. The captain had made a few announcements over the loudspeaker of the ship, but life had gone on as normal. A few of the onboard bars and restaurants had closed, but otherwise, there hadn't been a change. We were on a different line that time, I said in an attempt to sue their fears. My tone was probably unconvincing as my mind began to untangle the troubled thoughts creeping around inside.

It's probably just a company policy. Let's try and get some sleep before some rent-a-doc comes to knock on the door and take our temperature. Nancy muttered in agreement and put her head back on her pillow. I stretched myself back out on the two small bed and pulled the covers up to my shoulder. The steady hum of the engine, Laldis bowed us bow. back to sleep. I woke again to the sound of muffled screams. My pulse quickened as I jolted up in the bed. Sitting stone still, I listened intently for another outburst, but none came. Only the constant hum of the massive engines. It had been something in my dream, I thought to myself, and settled back

down into the bed again. Nancy was snoring peacefully beside me, and I placed my hand on her back. She shifted her body as she shrugged the blanket off of her shoulder. The rise and fall of her back as she breathed helped to slow the panicked thumps from my heart. Sympathy panic, Marvin. That's all it is. Nancy got a little worried earlier and spooked you too. Calm down and go back to bed. This vacation will be gone before you know it. Just as I was settling in, I heard someone knocking heavily on a cabin door in the hall, followed by a loud voice.

Through the door, I couldn't quite hear what they were saying. It was the medical team, I thought, making rounds to put all of this silly business behind us. I gently stood from the bed and crept to the door, placing my ear against the cold wood. The voice of two men filled the hallway. One soul lost and one awaiting treatment, said the first man. The sound of flipping pages followed. Male and female, David enjoys Carmichael's. I'll call for the removal team.

Said the second man. Which one needs treatment? The man or the woman? The man. The first one replied. He's pretty weak. I could hear one of the men walk back into the cabin before a single gunshot rang out. I fell onto the floor in shock.

Treatment complete, said man number two. Last cabin on this floor. Looks like Marvin and Nancy Compton. Popped the door. White noise filled my ears as I heard a plastic key card. slap against the magnetic lock of our door. The heavy wooden barrier pushed in and light flooded through the opening. Two men dressed in hazmat suits stood in front of me. The man in the rear had a gun. Good evening, Mr. Compton, said the first man. Are you or your wife feeling hell?

A medical team wearing the same hazmat suits as the two men came to our room and examined us. It seemed to shock them to find us in perfect health, terrified as we were. They had us us put on two hazmat suits and raced us to the elevator. Two men escorted us down the main hallway and through the empty lobby and onto the main deck. We didn't see a single soul other than the medical team. No matter how many questions we asked, they remained silent. We approached a helicopter that sat idling on the deck. Lounge chairs and white towels sat scattered all around. The team pushed us into the chopper where we belted up and lifted off into the sky. Nancy clung to me more tightly than she ever had before.

As we moved over the side of the ship, it finally made sense. Why we hadn't seen anyone else, on the deck were bright white body bags. Thousands of them. Lazzang sur-gillet, puissance-molyne, for 15 minutes.

We'd say that's their dojo. Pre-a-joo! Vive the pleasure with the Ojo! The casino on-line, which proposes the most recent machine-ass-sou and the games of casino in direct. Profite of 50 tours gratu on Big Bass Bonanza!

without its exigences of mese and with payment instantane. Hey, I've got to win. Woohoo! Senture the pleasure. Ray Ojo! 188 and more, 1, 1,000 depot only,

exulue in Ontario. 50 tours gratuys on the machine to sub-bac-bass Bonanza. Depos minimum of $10. Defei and payeas'alli. Story 2. Doomsday Bunker. The screen of my tablet

danced with a thousand different sequences that I didn't understand. It didn't matter anyway. All of the data presented on the screen wasn't for me to check anyway. technological mumbo-jumbo, all of it. The only thing I cared about was the little green bar that was filling up at the bottom. 82% complete. It would have been my last job for a month before I flew home for some rest and relaxation. I had worked for Midwest structural security for a decade,

and it was the cushiest gig I ever had. Fallout shelters weren't exactly all the rage, but they were becoming more common with every passing year. Natural disasters used to be our bread and butter, but it seemed like the world was falling to shit, politically speaking. Wealthy folks couldn't get enough of our underground, home-away-from-home setups. That inspection was my third one that week. A crew would spend months, sometimes even years, carefully building the state-of-the-art bunkers. After they were finished, I would show up and do the final check. Full inspection, top to bottom. No system went unnoticed. My The final step before the official sign-off on a job site was to hook my tablet up to the main computer and run a final diagnostic check.

Every mechanical and computer-controlled system would go through an intense diagnostic and produce a finalized report. Easy money, if not a bit time-consuming. I didn't mind, though. The bunkers were more luxurious than any place I had ever lived. Most were identical in structure, but the interior design was picked out by the owner. their own special little touch, I guess. Knowing it was my last sight before vacation, it seemed like the tablet diagnostic was running slower than ever.

I hadn't looked at the screen in over five minutes, but when I looked again, it had only moved up 1%. The oversized feather couch in the bunker's living room area was comfortable, though. It had crossed my mind to set an alarm on my cell phone and take a quick snooze. I was reaching into my pocket to pull out my phone, when a thick peppering of concrete erupted, hitting the side of my face. The crumbling of stone and squeal of rebar filled the inside of the concrete box as I sprung from the couch. My tablet screen was flashing red, and I began to run for the exit hatch.

The PA system above roared to life. Warning, warning, unexpected breach detected. Emergency lockdown mode commencing. Stand clear of all exits. Volkheads will secure in five seconds. As I listened to the announcement, I kept running toward the exit hatch. There was no chance I would make it, but my legs continued pumping nonetheless. My mind was still reeling as I tried to figure out what the hell had caused the structural damage to the barrier wall.

I was just in time to watch the damn thing seal shut. The hydraulic door system hissed and groaned as the heavy steel plate shifted into place. A dull thud and small shock passed through the bunker as the barrier settled into its front. brain. Having accepted that I was trapped inside the bunker, I pulled my phone from my pocket to make contact with someone from the company. The unexplained structural failure needed to be reported, and someone needed to come to perform an emergency override to get me out. It would take hours for me to do from the inside, and there was no way of telling if the structure was preparing for collapse. I looked at my phone. No reception. A moment of panic settled in before I came to my

senses. Each one of the bunkers we constructed came with a satellite phone communication system. I began to walk down the cement steps into the main area to check the link up when another explosion of cement sprayed just a few feet ahead of me, followed by what felt like an earthquake. My feet shook beneath me, and I tumbled down the last few steps. I threw my arms out in front of me, but it was too late. All of my weight came crashing down, causing the side of my head to slam against the thin carpet covering the cement floor. My vision wavered and everything went black. I'm not sure how long I was out, but when I came to, chunks of concrete and twisted lines of rebar were scattered across the floor. Something was scraping across the concrete foundation,

mimicking the sound of nails on a chalkboard. I lifted my head to find the source of the noise and nearly pissed my pants when I saw it. Bright rays of sun. sunlight were piercing through a hole in the four-foot thick wall. Dirt and crumbled concrete were sliding in from the opening, pushed by an enormous white hand. From the tip of the talons to the bend of the wrist, it had the texture of porous bone. Deep dimples in the ivory claw were filled with dirt.

The massive hand scratched at the floor, feeling around as though it were a bear reaching into a log, searching for an easy meal. In my days, I managed to be a wall. to push myself back a few feet, just as one of the claws sank deeply into the concrete, where I had been only moments before. A deep wound in the concrete trailed back to the hole as the colossal hand pulled itself out. The ground rumbled as something unimaginably massive moved overhead. The quakes gradually grew less in intensity, before vanishing altogether.

I remained in the bunker for hours after that, afraid that the thing was outside. Maybe it was just waiting to see if I came out. My stomach turned with a thought of seeing what was on the other end of that grotesque hand. The daylight drifted into twilight, and still, I sat frozen in the same spot. My stomach growled for food, yet nothing could pry me away. It wasn't until the next morning when sunlight began to pour in through the shaft, before I finally decided to make my escape. I clambered up through the hole the thing had gouged into the bunker and poked my head above ground level.

My truck was ripped to shreds and scattered around the field. A line of trenches were grooved into the ground as far as my eyes could see. Some hellish trail left by whatever nightmare creature had burrowed its way in. I guess those bunkers couldn't keep everything out. Look, Air Canada, did a sold world. Super, an offer for the Assort. Station thermal, volcano. You've seen the price for the Japan?

Hmm, eparg and sushi. Wow, the solds are good for Mayork also. We could go to the plage and do you find a run-doney. Or it'd say a long march on the border of the sea-sill. Mmm, I adore, the canoly. Attend, there's another... Decide, evit, this sold is dendurrillimited. Reserved to aircanada.com or at your agent-to-voyage.

The Conditions SAPPLECLEENDS. on my desk began to ring around noon the day the plant burned to the ground. I had worked as head of security for Caverna cattle processing for half a decade, and it had never rung. My heart dropped as I considered the loss of life that would follow the metallic jingling. I picked it up and held it to my ear. Code Red? I asked, voice shaking. Confirmed, said a man from the other end. Follow Tier 5 prototypes immediately. I swallowed hard and sat the phone carefully back into the cradle. Not that it mattered. It would be a charred pile of plastic before the day was out. I lifted the plexiglass cover on the wall above my desk and pushed the yellow button labeled Slaughterhouse.

A secondary red button flashed below it. Sweat poured down my face as doubt swept through my mind. I wanted to think it wasn't too late, but I knew it was. I pushed the flashing red button to finalize the operation. The Slaughterhouse workers were all dead. anyway. Looking at the security monitors for the slaughterhouse, I could see the staff scrambling toward the doors. As soon as I hit the secondary button, the magnetic locks engaged, and there would be a mechanical voice playing through the overhead speakers announcing the lockdown. It would tell

some soothing lie that normal operations would resume any moment, but they knew better. In a dead-end town like this, people flock to Coverna for decent pay and dependable hours. A few years, years in, and most of them even accepted the twisted nature of what we actually did. Most of them probably lied and told themselves nothing bad could really happen. For a few brief moments, before they died, they understood it had all been a comforting lie. I turned back to my computer and entered the command to announce the facility evacuation for all of the other floors.

Scanning the bank of monitors, I could see the other workers cease their duties and begin to move in an orderly fashion for the nearest exit. The alert sounded like a fire alarm, so they would move a safe distance away from the building before Tier 5 protocol finished. The waves of other workers were still marching out, but I turned my head back to the bank of Slaughterhouse monitors. In the brief moments I had looked away,

nearly a third of the cameras had gone offline. I knew the things were destructive, but I had no idea how quickly they had moved or how they had escaped containment. On one of the screens, a horrible image flickered lifelessly. In front of one of the exit doors, there was a pile of people. Parts of them, anyway. I had never been more grateful that the Coverna Cattle Processing plant owners had never transitioned the old cameras to color.

My imagination made the scene bad enough. I turned back toward the other monitors to see a few slow movers still shuffling around inside the plant. There wasn't much time left before I would have to enter the final protocol command. My face was burning with anger at the stragglers. I picked up the system-wide mic on my desk and held it to my mouth. Get the hell out! I shouted. The building is on fire, and I can't leave the security booth until the place is cleared.

The last few slow-moving employees unexpectedly picked up their pace and moved toward the exits. I breathed a sigh of relief as my eyes darted from monitor, a monitor, all of the floors other than the slaughterhouse were clear. I turned to the row of buttons and pushed the yellow and red sequences to finalize the order. Clicks reverberated through the facility as the magnetic locks engaged. The things were trapped inside and the hidden self-destruct system would engage in just a few moments. Stealing one more look back at the slaughterhouse monitors, I finally saw the things. Bovine heads extended from their serpentine necks. They waved side to side, bobbing above their arachnoid bodies.

Most of them had eight eyes, but a few had ten or more. The hooves came to a sharp point. Bloaded udders randomly spotted their body, dripping some liquid too thick to be milk. Gore dripped from their slack mouths. They skittered across the slaughterhouse floor, tracking down the last few survivors. Every few moments another camera would go offline.

I never understood why they destroyed the cameras. Did they know I was why? watching them? Could they think? Were they more than just some monstrosity the Caverna Cattle Processing Company had developed to cut costs? The damn things grew too rapidly. They were too dangerous. Surely Coverna knew it. Sure, they tasted like beef, but I couldn't help but be sickened by the monstrosities that had overwhelmed the slaughterhouse floor. Dozens of people inside were dead, all in the name of higher profit. My computer monitor began to flash rapidly.

Counting down the moments until the incendiary devices would cause the plant to erupt in flames. That was the protocol. Genetically engineer monsters that taste like beef. If they break containment, destroy the plant and any staff trapped inside. Insurance would pay to rebuild in a new town. The families would get a meager payout. Kaverna would just move on, open a new plant, breed more creatures. Next time you're at the grocery store,

skip the Kaverna meat section. It may be a price you like, but you get what you pay.