Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - 3 Morbid Horror Stories

Episode Date: August 7, 2021

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Talk to nicely. As a journalist, I get to travel the country a lot. A part of my job includes a column regarding small town myths and legends. It's not the most factual part of my work, but I still enjoy it. At least I did until I found a town called Silverwoods. According to my anonymous source, it was a place that hadn't changed since the late 50s, a remnant of a bygone era, suffering from a horrible curse. As the myth would have it, nothing there was allowed to die.

Mind you, this was before the time of Google Maps. I had to rely on my sources' instructions when searching for the town. I fully expected it to be a prank, but my job was exactly that. To prove or disprove information, I set out on my journey. After a few hours of driving, I pulled onto a well-hidden dirt road. It had been poorly maintained, and it would take me another three hours before I even found a hint of civilization. An old wooden sign. Silver Woods. Turn around now, it read. In the distance, I saw what looked like an old farming community,

just a small town with a few buildings that had partially fallen apart, and trucks that had rusted beyond repair. At a first glance, it looked abandoned. I parked my car on the side of the road, ready to call the myth bullshit. Then I heard someone call out, Why did you come here? A weak voice said. I turned towards the voice. It belonged to a frail old man, holding himself up with a cane. He was bald, and his teeth had all but fallen out. Who are you? And why are you here? He asked. Feeling mildly uncomfortable, I introduced myself. I explained that I had been given directions by an anonymous source and that I was hunting down myths and legends. He sighed, ignorance is bliss, but since you're here, I will give you what you

came for. Only then, did I notice that his leg was broken? He dragged it along as he limped around. The weirdest part was that his skin was covered in scratches, all looking fresh. Are you all right? I asked nervously. He ignored the question and simply gestured for me to follow. Are you alone here? No, there are others. On the ground, I noticed what I assumed was a dead bird. Its torso had been ripped open, exposing the organs within. It looked like a cat attacked it, yet it tried to move around, alive despite its grave injuries. The bird, it's... It's... I tried to get out. The old man glanced over at it without batting an eye.

It's not allowed to die. Nothing here is allowed to die, he said. He led me inside an old house. No sooner had I taken a step through the front door, before my nose was assaulted by the stench of rotting flesh. There were a dozen people littered around the room in various states of mutilation. Yet, they were all breathing, living with impossible injuries. The myth had been proven true.

But I couldn't believe it. We need to call for help. I said as I looked at a guy whose hands had no skin left on them. It would only make things worse, the old man said. I already had my phone out, ready to dial 911. But out in the middle of nowhere, I didn't have a single bar of signal to help me. Sit down. Let's talk. In shock at the sight, I couldn't find the words to argue.

You came here to learn the history of Silverwoods, and I'm going to tell you. He said, I sat down and looked at all the suffering people around me. Most of them were too wounded to speak a single word, only letting out groans of agony where they sat. Every single injury looked fresh. It looked like not a single day had passed since acquiring them. Since our town was founded in 1911, we've been a regular farming community,

a small town that hardly ever saw any visitors. Most of us were born and raised here. So on the rare occasion that someone passed through, it was a big deal, a cause for celebration. The man took a pause and glanced at his broken leg. Then, in 1956, a man arrived in Silverwoods. With his fancy clothes, an expensive car, he starkly contrasted our modest surroundings. He didn't visit for business, nor did he look to settle down in the same. to settle down in the region.

All he wanted was to spend a year with us. At the end of his visit, he promised us a gift never to be forgotten. As he finished the sentence, I heard faint screams coming from outside. They sounded horribly hoarse and admitted a clear message of agony. The man never said much. He just observed us as we went about our days,

never shying away from lending a helping hand. He was polite, helpful, and within a month, we'd already accepted him as a part of the community. Still, he always wore that damn suit and never seemed affected by anything around him. No matter the situation, he was calm and looked in pristine shape. The screams got louder. Amid them, I could hear faint begs for mercy. Then, once his year in Silverwoods had ended, He asked us a simple question. What is it? I asked.

Do you want to live forever? He paused and sighed. The screams in the background felt ever more present, as if they knew I was there. At first, we laughed at the suggestion. Death wasn't an enemy, but we didn't hold it as a friend either. After a lengthy discussion,

it all came down to a vote. I guess the outcome, is clear. I stepped over to the window and tried to figure out where the screaming was coming from. I wanted to run, but something deep inside me kept me from doing so. I pitied the people of Silverwoods, and I wanted to help them. So, you'll live forever? He nodded. He promised us that our bodies wouldn't age. Alas, without time affecting our bodies, we lost the ability to feel hunger, thirst and the need for sleep. Our bodies can't be killed by any injuries, disease, nor destruction.

But we can also never heal. Every injury we sustain, no matter how minor or severe it is, stays with us until the end of time. That is our curse. What about the people screaming? I asked. He sighed. It's coming from the barn. That's where we keep the people. that wanted out. Out? What do you mean? Some people got the idea that they could elude our curse

by destroying their own hearts. Others attempted to crush their heads, but they were all wrong. They can't die. They're not allowed to. How can I help you? Is there any way to stop this? I asked. Then he laughed. It wasn't a cheerful laugh, but one filled with malice. Stop it? We don't want it to stop, he said. Ten years ago, that same man returned to our town. He hadn't aged a day and still smiled cheerfully as he greeted us. He offered us death, release from our horrific lives. Why didn't you accept it?

He paused. His smile vanishing from his face. Because he told us what happens to us after we die. And I can promise you, it's a far. Far darker fate than the one we've been condemned to. Lazzangue sur-gely, Puccence-Moyane for 15 minutes. We're like to dojo.

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slash DR No Sleep to unlock exclusive perks. And now time for the next story. My friends and I used to wander into the dark woods at night, wielding little more than our flashlights and overactive imaginations. It was the surge of adrenaline we needed, gained from harmless, non-existent horror. Lucky for us, there was a forest bordering our neighborhood. It was full of ancient trees that creaked in the wind. Our parents had often warned us about entering the woods,

claiming the trees would fall due to the weakest gust of wind. Of course, their warnings fell on deaf ears. We were young and felt invincible. Though we pretended to be brave, we usually didn't get far into the darkness of the woods before cowering in fear. Each time, we'd mark on a tree how far we traveled before giving up. And, each time we set out on a new adventure, we promised each other to break the record. Our last journey occurred on the 29th of October, 2012. Liam and Frank were my best friends.

Together, we ventured deeper into the woods than we ever had before. Liam, being a year older, always pretended to have to have a little bit more. of all the experience in the world. He'd hide in the bushes a few yards ahead and jump out in pathetic attempts at scaring us. Before long, we reached our furthest previous mark. It read the 9th of April 2012. We kept walking, proud that we'd reached a new milestone.

Shortly after, we noticed something in the darkness, contrasting starkly to the trees around it. Hey, what's that? Liam asked. I don't know, let's check it out, I yelled in response. As we got closer, we realized it was an old bunker. While it was a cool discovery, it wasn't that uncommon in our country. There were thousands of concrete bunkers remaining after World War II.

Still, we were excited to explore our new finding. Inside, it was rid of any equipment. All it contained was a hole in the middle, with a spiral staircase stretching deep into the ground. Let's climb down, Liam suggested. I don't know, Frank stuttered. It doesn't seem like a good idea. The stairs might break and trap us inside. You're just scared.

minute, Liam teased back. Not willing to admit our nervousness, Frank and I agreed to follow him down the stairs. The stairs themselves were made of metal. Though they felt solid enough, they produced loud, echoing sounds with each step down towards the bottom. After a minute without the end in sight, I started to get scared. How deep down does this go? I asked. In response, Liam took Frank's flashlight and dropped it down the middle of the staircase. It fell deep into the darkness. Holy crap, I can't even see it anymore. We need to go back. It's too far down, Frank said nervously. No way, we need to see where this leads.

A short argument ensued. After some pushing, Frank gave in, and we kept going down. It took us more than ten minutes just to descend the staircase. As we proceeded further down, it progressively kept getting warmer and more human. I could feel the sweat form on my face as we reached the bottom. Once down, we found a large room. It contained a little more than a locked door, mold-covered floors, and the broken flashlight Liam had dropped down.

It's locked. I guess we have to go back, I weakly insisted. But Liam had already set out on a search to open the door. Before long, he found a metal panel on the wall. He pried it open to reveal a lever. I'm going to pull it, he said without consulting us. It produced a loud clink, and the locked door slid open. Liam and I entered first, while Frank trailed us.

Without a flashlight, he had no choice but to follow us closely. Inside, we found a narrow hallway filled with open prison cells. The doors to each cell were marked with different dates. 7th of July, 1954, 9th of August, 1954, 13th of September, 1954. The first few rooms didn't seem to contain anything other than dust. But once we got to the end, we noticed something lying in the corner. There, on the floor, lay three completely emaciated. people. They looked like skeletons covered in a thin layer of pale skin. According to the dates

on the cells, they'd been there for more than 50 years, yet they hadn't rotted. Are they, are they dead? I asked. As I uttered those words, one of them twitched to life. We jumped at the site and prepared to run. Only then did we realize that some of these creatures had been attached to the ceiling. They dropped down in front of us and blocked the way. Their limbs were all deformed, too long to fit their small body. Still, they moved abnormally fast, almost twitching as they took their steps closer to us. Their eyes had been sewn shut,

and they had far too many ribs. They weren't human. Run! Frank yelled. We tried to move towards the exit, ducking under their long arms and spurting for the door. Frank and I made it easily enough, but Liam got stuck behind one of the creatures.

Don't leave me! He yelled as he tried to maneuver past the sickly thin monster. With that, it reached out its thin arm and pierced Leon's abdomen, Unable to speak, he simply fell limp where he stood, only held up by the creature that had killed him. Knowing we could do nothing to save him, Frank and I made a run for it. Our footsteps were dampened by the fungus and mold covering the floor. The things didn't even notice us until we reached the metal staircase.

There, our steps rang loud through the metal, alerting the creatures to our location. Without looking behind us, we ran up the stairs, only listening as they got closer. I was only a few steps ahead of Frank, but that was all it took for them to get it. I didn't even notice he was gone until I got halfway up the staircase. Then, a scream of agony echoed through the room. It was frank. I knew I couldn't help him. I just kept running up the stairs and into the woods.

I didn't stop to breathe before I finally reached the comfort of the streetlights surrounding my neighborhood. Exhausted from the escape, I collapsed on my own doorstep and passed out. Safe, but broken. Once I regained consciousness, I told my parents everything. At first, they didn't believe me. But, once the news of two missing children spread around our town, the police were alerted. Still, they couldn't confirm my story. They initiated a search and rescue operation.

Though they found the bunker I mentioned, there was no trace of any malformed creatures, nor any proof that my two best friends died there. To this day, the case remains unsolved. However, since we opened the cages in the bunker, there have been a lot of reported cases of missing children. Unsolvable mysteries. I know the truth. I'm sorry. We never should have opened the bunker. I never remember feeling sick, just a sudden headache, and my dog barking as I collapsed to the ground. The world had vanished

beneath my feet, and my consciousness was trapped in darkness, disconnected from my body. For what felt like an eternity, I floated through the emptiness of the void, uncaring, and at peace. Then I heard a voice. He sounded stressed, speaking in a language I couldn't understand. To my unededged, educated mind, it sounded Russian, but for all I knew it could have been Polish or Serbian. As I focused on the strange words, I started to awake. I could feel vibrations all around me, accompanied by the sound of a running engine. It didn't take much more to realize we were in a car driving somewhere. Where am I? I groaned. Two men loomed above me, both wearing surgical masks. Despite their obscured faces, I could tell they were in shock from seeing me awake. Without hesitation,

One of the men jammed a syringe into my chest, jolting me back to sleep. Though heavily sedated, I could hear people talking. Eventually, the car stopped, and they brought me inside a cold, dry room. Then, I felt a steel blade cut through my abdomen, digging into my flesh. It was an oddly warm, excruciating sensation. I wanted so desperately to cry out in pain, but I couldn't even move, much less resist the knife. With that, I suddenly awoke, I winced in agony as I tried to get an idea of my surroundings. I was outside, face down in the mud.

It had felt like an instant, but hours had gone by since I passed out. Trenton Street, a sign said. I was lying on the ground, on the street, in my neighborhood. Help, I weakly called out. My abdomen ached, leaving me unable to stand up. I pulled open my shirt and noticed a massive surgical scar covering the majority of my belly. Just by pure luck, a neighbor arrived home and promptly called an ambulance. The doctors were baffled.

Though I'd clearly undergone some kind of surgery, none could figure out its purpose. After a thorough examination and a scan, I was met by some nervous-looking physicians. What happened to me? I asked, horrified to know the answer. They explained that chunks of my internal organs had gone missing. The scan had revealed tiny holes throughout my entire abdomen. But, despite the bizarre findings, my organ functions, remained mostly intact. Against all odds, I was more or less fine. After a few days of tests and observation, I was sent home to rest. The police dropped by a couple of times to ask questions,

but I couldn't remember anything substantial. In the end, it felt more like a nightmare than reality. If not for the scar, I wouldn't have believed it. It wasn't until a month later, before I suddenly took a turn for the worse. At first, it just tingled. Then it felt like something was moving inside my stomach. It bulged out, leaving me unable to eat or drink. I had scheduled a doctor's appointment that was only two days away, but I couldn't wait. I basically crawled over next door and begged my neighbor to drive me to the hospital. As I rang the doorbell, I puked on his doorstep. The vomit was bright red, with chunks of undigested food I couldn't keep down, but something moved in the mess I'd created. They looked like large worms squirming on the ground. With that, he rushed me to the

emergency room. On the way, I noticed a bulge appearing on my arm, just like the worms in my vomit. It squirmed around, digging its way under my skin. Before long, it firsted out, falling onto my chest. Several other bulges appeared on my limbs and abdomen. I was delirious from the pain. Rather than being afraid, I just felt guilty about messing up my neighbor's car. We quickly reached the hospital. My neighbor grabbed me and basically carried me in through the front door. One of the worms bit him in the process, causing him to drop me to the floor. Luckily, there were doctors and nurses there ready to assist. They brought me inside and immediately prepared me for surgery.

Unfortunately, it didn't take long before they realized I was a lost cause. Hundreds of worms had made their home inside my body cavities, feasting on my internal organs. It has been five hours since I arrived at the hospital. The doctors promised to keep me comfortable while I await my inevitable demise. Before the night ends, I'll be dead. Little is known about the worms that are eating my guts, but apparently I'm not the first victim.

The first worm needs to be planted into someone, but each subsequent generation spreads through bites, injecting their larvae into the bloodstream. Because of their slow development, it's hard to diagnose infected individuals until it's too late. Hopefully they can contain the situation. After all, I haven't been around many people lately. Only my neighbor as he drove me to the hospital.

They didn't bite him, did they? I'm too tired to remember. It's getting hard to think. I guess this is it for me. If you get bitten, please seek help immediately. Thanks for listening. To get notified every time a new episode is released, be sure to click the follow or subscribe button

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