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

Episode Date: September 7, 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] 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

Talk to Noseleep. Hey guys, I want to give a shout out to Jeffrey, Toki, and Ethan for recently becoming Dr. No Sleep patrons. You guys now have full access to my ad-free podcast episodes, along with all bonus episodes I've posted over the past year. If you'd like to receive access as well, go on over to my Patreon page at patreon.com slash DR-no-sleep to sign up. That's patreon.com slash DR-no-sleep. Now time for the story. Detention again. Same story, different day.

I was in detention about once a week for tardiness. I wonder if they'd still be so eager to dole out punishment if they knew it was because my dad had left last year for cigarettes and then had never come back. Or the fact that my mother was an alcoholic, leaving me to fend for myself and find my own way to and from school on most days. But I guess everyone had a sad story to tell. These days, misfortune was a regularity, and any blips of happiness were few and far in between. I sat quietly as the other high school

students filtered in. A couple of jocks and letterman jackets took seats in the back, close to two popular girls that had never looked my way before. They cackled wildly as the flirting and jokes began. They probably didn't even notice that I existed, breathing the same oxygen in the room as them. I was more like a coat rack in the corner than a person. I pulled up my hood and tugged at the drawstrings, retreating into my shell, and just hoped for the next two hours to go by as quickly as possible. After another minute, the bell rang. A mass exodus of kids passed by the windows on their way to the buses out front. A couple of them stopped to point and laugh at us.

Brad, one of the jocks, gave them the finger causing them to scurry off to the parking lot. After a few more minutes of the kids in the back talking about the game on Friday, Mr. Matheson finally strolled in. He stomped to the front desk and slammed a stack of folders on its surface with a loud smack. effectively silencing the chatter. He looked at each of us. His eyes were wild and bloodshot.

He looked rather disheveled, not like his normal put-together self. Mr. Matheson was the 11th grade history teacher. He was ex-military, and typically very no nonsense and straight to business. He definitely didn't appear to be his normal self today. All right kiddos, today is going to be a little different. We're going to have a little fun in detention this time.

Is that all right with everyone? His grin was borderline wicked. I didn't like where this was going. Sure, Mr. Matheson, I love fun, Brad joked, causing the others to giggle. Shut your mouth, Peterson. You smart ass. You know I've seen you in detention more than any other kid in this school. If it were up to me, you'd have been out of here a long time ago.

But you just keep scoring those types of people. touchdowns, don't you? The teacher beamed a dry erase marker right at Brad, which he caught, just before it struck his face. See, those hands keep the town happy. But let's see if you can continue to be lucky, huh? Mr. Matheson pulled a revolver from his waistband and slapped it on the desk. The entire room gasped and then fell silent. My heart thundered in my chest and my legs tingled with the urge to run. You see, guys, the feds found my safe house, the collection of guns and an entire hill of Colombian Bam Bam.

It's hard to make it in this economy with a teacher's salary, so I reverted to some business practices I saw in my time with the military. He locked the door and paced the front of the room like a shark, circling its prey. I bet they'll be here any minute to pick me up. Mr. Matheson loosened his tie and tossed it on the floor. It's life for me, boys. I got some priors I'm not proud of. Hit them from the school board, of course.

No chance of parole. No, sir, not me. He cackled manically then, causing us all the jump. So, we're going to go out with a bang. Let's have a little fun. This is something I picked up back in Nam. You ever heard of Russian roulette? He eyed each of us hungrily.

None of us dared to utter a sound. I'm sure you have, and we're going to play it. Peterson, you're up first. I've been dying to shut up that mouth of yours. He strode to the desk and emptied all the bullets from the cylinder except one. Come on up, Peterson. He said as he spun the cylinder and cocked back the hammer. So, sir, please.

Brad stammered. Now come on, don't be shy. It's your time to shine. Brad didn't move. Mr. Matheson stomped to the back of the room and held the gun up to his head. Okay, I'll do it for you this turn. No, no, no, no, please, sir. Click.

Your luck continues, Peterson. Who's next? He eyed each of us, almost salivating with glee. Brad broke down and wept at his desk. Oh, fine, you bunch of babies, I'll go next. You put the barrel in his mouth and winked us. us before pulling the trigger. Click.

And the teacher lives. Woo! What a rush! He jumped up and down, giddy with joy. It was sick. How about you, Miss Newman? You've got yourself a big mouth as well. Come on up here, prom queen.

Jessica Newman shook her head feverishly, closing her eyes as if to wish what was happening away. Ah, come now. Let's show a little gumption, ladies. You're all made so soft these days. It's really such a travesty. She started to cry, erupting little panicked squeaks from her lips. No?

Okay. I'll do it for you as well then. He sighed and came to stand next to her, pressing the barrel of the gun against her blonde hair. Ready? She wailed loudly as he pulled the trigger. Click. We're getting close now, boys.

I can feel it. Only three more chances in one. has to be the bullet. Jessica's head fell to her desk with a thud. She had fainted in terror. Mr. Matheson danced around the desks for a moment to a silent song in his head. His arms drifted from side to side

as he leapt and twisted like a figure skater. My mouth was dry. I was so afraid. I kept my eye on the gun. The chrome glinted in the light, threatening death. Three students left. Can I get a volunteer? Who's going to step up, huh?

He scanned the room, pointing with his index finger. Suddenly, through the horror, I somehow came up with a plan. I'll go, I croaked. Well, I'll be. Mr. Johnson, who would have thought? You know, it's always the quiet ones. Come on up, my boy. I slowly stood for my desk and walked to the front of the classroom on shaky legs.

The room spun. As bile rose in my throat, I forced it down and came to face the deranged teacher. I'm proud of you, son. He slapped my shoulder heartily and shoved the revolver into my hand. The cold steel felt alien in my grasp. It felt wrong. I hated it. Go ahead! He ushered me eagerly. I cocked back the hammer and brought it to my mouth. The barrel tasted like pennies against my tongue. Mr. Matheson nodded his head, urging me to pull the trigger as a twisted smile curled across his face. I put my finger on the trigger, but at the last second enacted my plan. I pulled the gun

from my mouth and pointed it right between his eyes. He didn't have time to react before I fired. A deafening bang filled my ears as smoke and gunpowder stung my eyes. Mr. Matheson dropped to the floor in a heap as the other student screamed. I dropped the gun and fell to my knees. I was too numb to cry, but I wanted to. Brad made a dash for the door, but just before he got there, men in body armor crashed through it. An entire team in black with FBI patches swarmed the room. A man in a suit approached me and went to one knee, placing an arm on my shoulder. It's all right, son, you're safe now. I broke down and wept in his arms as he helped me to an ambulance outside. We all gave our accounts to the authorities. It was all over.

the news for a week. We'd been excused from the rest of the school year, allowed to do our homework and testing remotely from home. The parents sued the schools for negligence in the background check they performed on Mr. Matheson and won a huge settlement. Jessica moved to another state, and Brad was never heard from again. Something about getting his GED and going to work at the family business. My mother felt so guilty that she gave up drinking. She's been sober for three months now, and I couldn't be more proud. We had just opened our textbooks to Chapter 8 when the alarms blared overhead. A red strobing light spun by the door as metal slats slid down the wall to seal us in.

The others started to stir and panic at their desks. Now now, class, I'm sure everything is fine, probably just a drill. Mr. Jonas held up his hands in an attempt to soothe the crowd. Just as he was about to open his mouth, Evie came over the intercom. Level 3 contingent located in the south quadrant of campus. Lockdown protocol is now in effect. Isolation protocol is now in effect. Oh no!

The teacher suddenly looked pale and a little panicked himself. Day three, I slid my rook across the tiled chessboard to overtake Patricia's bishop. She stuck out her tongue in defiance as I removed it. from the board. I smirked and then shoved another saltine cracker in my mouth. Mr. Jonas said we shouldn't be here much longer. It was probably just taking the CDC a while to quarantine and eradicate the contagion. He said it must be a pretty nasty virus if they are keeping us locked in our classrooms. We have enough snacks for another day or so. It's been difficult to ration properly when all you have are crackers, candy, and canned spray cheese.

Overall, though, we were keeping our hopes up, which was all we could really do, staying positive for now. Day five, the room was starting to smell foul. We'd designated some buckets in the corner as the bathrooms, and they were about half full and beyond putrid. We ran out of food last night. My stomach rumbled with hunger, but I did my best to ignore it. I didn't feel like playing chess or reading anymore. Instead, I just napped at my desk as much as possible to pass the time. I was hoping at any moment I'd be awoken to the door's opening so that I could go home.

I missed my parents. Mr. Jonas was losing his composure too. He'd been pretty put together up to this point, but his eyes looked a little wild now, and he kept pacing the room talking to himself. A few times I heard him cursing under his breath, and then reciting prayers. I really hope we get out of here soon. Day 8.

Bang! Pounding sound coming from the other side of the classroom pulled me from my dreams. Bang! I stayed still to appear asleep, but cracked my eyes just enough to watch as the biology teacher smashed a chair against the steel door over and over again.

Bang! Bang! He was really losing it. Let us out of here! Mr. Jonas screamed as he tossed the chair. to the side. I cannot do that, sir. A level three contagion has been detected. I have sealed off the affected area, but you must stay isolated for your safety.

The robotic voice hummed over the speakers. He screeched profanities at the camera in the corner of the ceiling. Some of the other boys were becoming aggressive as well. There had been some fights the last couple of mornings. It seemed as if we were slowly devolving, becoming an enclosure of chimpanzees, like one you'd see at the zoo, but only hungrier. We needed out, where something terrible was going to happen. Day 10, we'd been on a diet of tap water for the past five days. I felt dizzy every time I stood from my desk. The room would spin, and I'd almost black out. I kept my footing by sheer force

of willpower. I had this irrational fear that if I passed out, I'd be eaten by my classmates, like a pack of hyenas on a gazelle, feasting on my intestines as they spilled across the tiled floor. It sounded crazy if I said it out loud, but when I looked around the room and saw all the hungry faces, I didn't think the idea was too far-fetched after all. Mr. Jonas hasn't said a word in over 12 hours. He's just been sitting at his desk,

carving something into the surface of it with an exacto knife. For the first time today, I had the thought that maybe we weren't going to make it out of this. Maybe we were all going to die in this classroom. I hung my head and cried day 13. Mr. Jonas! Mr. Jonas, stop! Michael cried. Don't you see? We have to do this. We need food.

It's survival 101. When the pack is suffering and food is scarce, they turn on their weakest member. It's simple biology. survival of the fittest. Mr. Jonas had his hands around Trevor's neck, squeezing so hard that the boy's eyes were about to pop from his skull. Trevor struggled beneath him, but he was frail and terribly small for his age. Micah grabbed a large beaker from the table and lifted it high over his head.

Mr. Jonas, stop now. Don't make me do this. The teacher was long gone. His eyes gleaming with delight as drool dripped down his chin from salivating at the thought of a meal. I jumped to my feet as Micah brought the booger down as hard as he could onto Mr. Jonas's head. It shattered to pieces on impact, knocking the teacher out cold. I helped Micah push him off Trevor. The poor kid was wheezing and gasping for air as tears streamed down his face. You're all right. It's okay. You're all right. Micah patted the kid on the back,

trying to calm him as he wailed. Suddenly there was a scream like a war cry and Mr. Jonas was airborne. He leaped across a desk and plowed into Micah. They both went sprawling across the tile. Micah resisted him, but Mr. Jonas ended up on top and began dropping his elbows viciously on Micah's face, causing blood to spew from his nose and mouth. Static filled my mind. I didn't think. I only reacted. I reached down and picked up a hunk of glass from the broken beaker, grabbed Mr. Jonas's shaggy hair, and pulled it back to extend his neck. I pulled the glass through the meat of his throat as hard as I could. I'd never seen so much blood before. It poured in a waterfall across Micah's chest. Mr. Jonas fell to the side once more. This time, never to get up again.

I stared at my blood-soaked hands. I felt nothing. No remorse. No fear. Only static. Suddenly, the metal slats retracted into the ceiling and the door swung open. lifted. Please continue with your regular schedules. Lockdown protocol has been lifted. Her cheery robotic voice seemed so distant and out of place now. The other students gathered around me, just staring at the pool of blood. I think it was the hunger talking, but a part of me wanted to know what it tasted like. I think the others did too. Thankfully, before that could happen, a man in a suit strolled into the classroom. Hello, class. His perfect teeth gleamed under the LEDs. Before we could say anything, a team of adults and overalls poured into the room. Some began taking pictures of everything.

Others started cleaning up Mr. Jonas. One man with gray hair dropped a large box on the teacher's desk and opened it. He then started throwing fresh fruit and granola bars to each of the students. We devoured everything he gave us. I started to feel more like myself after two bananas and four granola bars. They tasted like heaven, a sweet salvation. The first man with the nice teeth in the expensive suit waited until we were all done before he addressed us again. I know it's been a long 13 days, guys. I appreciate you all hanging in there. I've alerted each of your parents that you've been cleared to go home. The classroom erupted in cheers as we all hugged each other. Even Micah, covered in gore, danced around excitedly.

You'll all be able to go home soon, but first I just need to do a little debrief with each of you before you go. I'm going to set up in the counselor's office, and Mr. Moses here is going to bring you down one by one to give your account on what happened during isolation. We all nodded our heads in agreement, anything to get out of here. Mr. Moses, the man with the gray hair and the snacks, took us down one by one, and we spilled our guts to the man with the nice teeth. When I gave my story on what it was like, I still felt numb. Even when describing how I'd killed Mr. Jonas, I just felt nothing. It wasn't until I'd gotten home that evening that I'd broken down and wept. Once I was in my mother's arms, I cried and cried until I couldn't anymore.

Then I ate more food than I ever had. I shoveled pasta down my throat until I thought my stomach would burst. It was a good feeling. to be full, to be human again. Years later while I was at university, a whistleblower had leaked that what we'd endured at the school was a government cover-up for a top-secret experiment. There had been no virus, no contagion.

It began as an experiment to test the artificial intelligence system they had at the school, but then it morphed into a social experiment to see how long we would last before someone was murdered or severely harmed. to test the boundaries of civility and moral character under immense pressure. Just in case there was a real issue with the code and the AI, and this scenario became a reality elsewhere.

When I'd killed Mr. Jonas, it had ended the experiment. The news had made me sick to my stomach. I was angry and disgusted for weeks. I was okay with it now, though. You see, Trevor may have been small, the weakest member of the pride perhaps, but he was also a genius. With his hacking expertise,

we were able to locate Mr. Nice Teeth and Mr. Moses. It's been six days so far, and every time they scream and hit the door with a chair, I just can't help but smile. It's a little experiment a few of us are conducting. It'll end when someone is murdered or severely injured. Maybe. Bejew at board of Vi-A-Rai.

and profite. Embarker and relaxes. Ciroat. Bookin. Oh, that also. And profite. Via Raille. The voice that we love

our love my eyelids threatened to close as Mrs. Newman droned on about the Pythagorean theorem. I didn't give a warm fart about geometry. When would I use it? Never. I would take over my dad's restaurant

like he had from his father. I didn't need to know how to get the area of a to get the area of a triangle while making scrambled eggs at a diner, would I? I rubbed the number patch on my Letterman jacket and allowed myself to drift off into a daydream. At first, I thought of the football game we had coming up this Friday against our rivals at Tri Village, the sound of the crowd under the Friday night lights, the roar of the whole town as we scored the game-winning touchdown. But then guilt reared its ugly head, and I thought of him. Gabriel Williams.

I think maybe we'd gone too far this time. I hadn't been the one holding the chainsaw, but I certainly let it happen. I felt horrible as the scene replayed in my mind. Gabe had always sat under the one oak tree we had on campus at lunch. It was the only place I ever saw the kid smiling. Jason wasn't satisfied with the name-calling, the shoving, and occasionally stuffing the kid in his locker.

No. He wanted to take down the tree one night. So, we all met up an hour after football practice when it was dark, while the school was empty and watched as he cut down the tree. I should have spoken up, but Jason was the team captain, and we all typically fell in line behind him as our leader. Gabe was such a strange guy anyway. Home schooled all the way up until the sophomore year, before transferring in. Something about his mother passing away and moving into his grandmother's place. It sounded pretty tragic

and made me feel even worse. Why was he so weird, though? Always whispering to himself and dressing like a goth, he really brings it on himself. But the way he had wept when he saw the tree lying dead on the ground, tears streamed down his face as he hugged its bark.

It made my stomach churn. Suddenly, a loud rumble shook the walls inside the classroom, causing the overhead lights to flicker. We all went silent, including Mrs. Newman. She opened her mouth to speak when it happened again. This time, I felt the vibration in my desk. Okay, okay, class, it's probably nothing. Just a tremor.

She held up her hands to calm us. But when it happened a third time, her eyes went wide with fear. The intercom crackled to life. School lockdown in effect. Teachers, proceed with lockdown protocol. Students, stay in your classrooms until lockdown is over. We all looked around each other with confusion.

Mrs. Newman scrambled over to lock the door and flip off the lights. It's okay, class. It's fine. We're going to be just fine. But it sounded as if she was trying to comfort herself and not the students. She had slid down the wall to hug her knees. Another tremor occurred. This time it was so violent that the computer monitor fell from the teacher's desk, causing us all to gasp in unison.

Mrs. Newman was rocking now, praying. I looked back to Benny, a running back. What's going on? I mouthed. He threw up his hands and shrugged. A ceiling pad fell from above and broke into pieces upon impact with the floor. Something was coming through the hole it had left. It looked like Fy Vy Vine started to spread rapidly through the ceiling. They quickly slithered down the walls like pythons,

coating them entirely until the brick was barely visible. Screw this! Benny cried before leaping to his feet and sprinting to the door. He unlocked the handle, swung it open, and scampered down the hall as fast as he could. We all sat in shock for a moment, paralyzed with confusion and fear. I looked to Mrs. Newman. She had scooted to the center of the center of the moment.

the room and was holding her hand over her mouth. She was closing her eyes tightly, as if willing this new reality to go away. The vines were starting to consume the entire classroom now, wrapping around desks and bending the steel legs of tables. We had to get out of here before it decided to cover us as well. I was done waiting for instruction for Mrs. Newman. She was obviously having a breakdown. I stood and made my way slowly to the doorway. The hallway lights were flickering as vines covered them. The school building creaked and groaned from the pressure of being squeezed as roots burst through the tile floor in sections. I motioned for everyone to exit, and the class poured out into a run for the front door. It looked like other classes were doing the

same as herds of students stampeded through the hall. Miliar cry resounded behind me. It sounded like Benny. He must have gone for the rear exit by the cafeteria. I turned away from the rest of of my classmates and made my way towards Benny. I had to leap over the roots. They were becoming massive. What on earth was happening? I didn't know how any of it was possible as I evaded the roots writhing through the floor like wooden slugs. Benny, where are you? He screamed. I broke out into a trot towards the sound. As I rounded the corner, I stopped, dead in my tracks, almost tripping over the roots. There was Gabe. He was holding up his right hand, cackling like mad. Against the wall, Benny was being swallowed alive by the vines.

They twisted around him like snakes. One was around his throat, choking him. His eyes threatened to bulge out of his head, and his lips were turning purple. And Gabe, he was controlling the vines. With a twitch of his hand, they writhed and constricted at his command. I didn't know how, but he was controlling the plants. Gabe, stop it! I shouted.

Why? He glanced at me with a wicked smile in his face. I'm so sorry about the tree and the bullying. It was Jason. Let us go. It was Jason's idea. We didn't have anything to do with it. I pleaded.

Oh, you mean this, Jason? Gabe lifted his left hand to point at a spot on the ceiling above me. The vines parted, and I saw Jason's lifeless body hovering within them. Jesus! I whispered, stumbling backwards on wobbly. legs. You don't have to do this. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks. I know I don't have to, but I want to. Just like how all of you wanted to torment me, how you all wanted to kill my only friend. He spat. It was just a tree. I blubbered between sobs. And you're just a person. But now you can

become a tree. See? Watch. He cackled viciously as I gathered myself enough to run away. I flew down the hall as quickly as possible, but the roots seemed to move more aggressively now, grabbing at the soles of my feet. Vine snapped like whips from the ceiling, reaching for me. The front entrance to the school was now a wall of vegetation. No, no, no, no! I pulled at my hair in a panic.

How do I get out of here now? I paced back and forth as the plants grew closer and closer. The window in the locker room, it was my only chance of getting out. I took the hallway to the right. Then to the left, lockers exploded from the walls from the force of the vine squeezing through them. I was almost grabbed several times, but I just kept running until I reached the gymnasium. I burst through the double doors.

The splintered wood lay across the basketball court where vines had ruptured the stands. I could see more bodies, wrapped helplessly high above in a green web. Faces slack, pale with death, watching me as I fought my way into the locker room. The floor was flooded from roots, shattering the plumbing lines in the ground. I pushed against the vegetation as it pulled at my limbs and clothing. I kicked, pulled, and even bit at the vines as I climbed the toilet partitions. Finally, I reached the small window and quickly winded it open with the pulley. The opening was small, but I think I could fit.

I had to fit. I tried to pull myself through, desperately wiggling just enough to squeeze past the frame. but I couldn't get my chest through the opening. It was too small. I started to cry. I didn't want to die. Not like this. My sobbing was interrupted by laughter behind me.

I was stuck in the window. But I knew who it would be. I felt vines wrap around my legs tightly before pulling me back through to the locker room. I began to scream, but it was quickly choked off as a vine wrapped around my neck. I couldn't breathe. breathe. My chest spasmed and my body thrashed against the hold of the vines but to no avail. My head felt as if it might pop right off my shoulders from the pressure. I wanted to beg him to stop, to let me go, but I couldn't. I watched as he danced around in a circle merrily beneath me.

He even started to sing joyously. I could hear the hum of his voice in the darkness as I Drifted into the abyss. Gonna pluck the weeds from the rose and watch as my garden grows. Maltch it deep and low. Make them reap what they sow. Lazzang sur-gillet, Puitance-Moyerned, on 10 minutes.

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