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

Episode Date: February 25, 2022

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Talk to nice sleep. On the 15th of April 1912, about half an hour before midnight, I was at the cafe Parisian, enjoying a late meal with my wife. She loved that place. Something about the salty air wafting through the open windows really appealed to her. It wasn't just the freshness of the breeze that she loved, but also the thrill of being reminded where we were. In the middle of that vast ocean that seemed so alien compared to the,

solid earth, we'd known all our lives. She loved adventure, and I loved her. So I brought her on that doomed journey, regardless of the dent it put in my wealth. If only I had known how it would all turn out, I would have bankrupted myself to ensure she never stepped foot on that cursed vessel. My wife's voice was sweeter than the music of the piano that filled the salty air of the cafe. I leaned on my elbow against the table and smiled as I watched her talk about the day she had. Italian waiters who were pretending to be French walked briskly by, serving the other customers who had stayed half an hour past closing time. There weren't a lot of them, but I could hear their laughter and gregarious conversations floating on top of the music. It was a calm,

peaceful night, and then it went to hell. It began with me laughing and pushing my spoon off the table with my elbow. I cursed and quickly ducked to pick it back up. That's when the hair on the back of my neck sprang up. Silence had suddenly swept over the cafe. All sounds had come to an abrupt halt. No talking, no music, no scratching of forks and knives on plates, nothing. It was as if I was alone in that place.

Why? What the hell happened? The answer came in the form of a bright beam of blood-red light. It flooded the cafe like a tidal wave. It swept over my head, and I shrank further down in response, utterly terrified at the thought of letting it touch my skin. I couldn't tell why I felt such primal fear at the sight of that light, but something deep within me told me that if I had let that light touch me. A fate worse than death awaited. I went down on my hands and knees as the light continued to dominate the room. Thankfully, the angle at which it entered had kept me safe from its reach. With the utmost caution, I inched closer to my wife. My knees scraped against the wooden flooring, seemingly the only sound in that universe. I tried to call out to my wife, but the fear

killed the words in my throat itself. And then, just as quickly and as strangely as it had arrived, the red light disappeared. It didn't wink out of existence as I would have expected, but it retreated like a low tide. I shuddered as I saw it slip out of the windows like a living thing. Satisfy that it was truly gone, I pulled myself onto my seat, taking care not to let my trembling knees sent me back onto the floor. My heart rippled at what I saw once I was back in my chair. My wife was sitting exactly where I had left her. Her mouth wide open, lifeless eyes, staring into nothingness. She wasn't the only one. Every single person in the cafe was the same, frozen, exactly where they'd been when the light had arrived, mouth open, vacant eyes gazing into it.

the abyss. I scrambled forward, trying to shake my wife's shoulders to get her to snap out of whatever days she was in, only to find out that her skin had turned as cold as ice. Horrified, I checked her pulse. Nothing. She was dead, gone without even a peep. Biting back a sob, I went and checked the pulses of others. They were all gone. All those who'd been touched by the light had their lives taken from them, almost as if the light had pulled their souls out of their bodies and dragged them all down to the depths of the ocean, or wherever else that blasted thing had come from. I made the decision to run out of the cafe and call for help, or at least find another person on the ship who was still alive. I was almost at the door

when I was sent flying off to my right. My heart almost slid out of my throat as I thought that the nightmarish light had returned in some manner. But it wasn't that. No, it was the iceberg. The ship had hit with such force it tilted, letting me experience temporary weightlessness. The corpses of my wife and the others in the cafe floated around me as I tried to swim through the air towards the exit. It was only for a moment, but it felt like hours. Soon I was back on my feet, hurtling past the bodies and the furniture towards the exit. I did find other survivors later, many of them, in fact. And not one of them believed me when I told them what I had seen.

I didn't blame them. I wouldn't have either if I was in their place. Well, in any other circumstance, I could have doubted my own memory. But I know what I saw that day. I know that I didn't just cook it all up to deal with the pain of losing my wife. That light. Every single night I lay in bed wondering what it was,

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It was a part of the crew of the most famous ship in the history of humanity. Being on it felt like a big opportunity at the time. Something that would not just be one of the most important memories of my life, but something that could change the trajectory of my career and my life itself. It turned to me. It turned out to be true.

Just not in the way I could have ever anticipated. I was in the crew dormitory when it all went down. On previous ships, we would call our crew area the glory hole because of how terrible and borderline inhumane those rooms could get. But not on the Titanic. Oh, those rooms were absolutely luxurious compared to the kind of hellholes we were used to. I was comfortably dozing on top of the time of.

of my soft mattress. When someone shook me awake, I awoke with a start and found myself staring at my crewmate Thomas. He looked haggard, bloodshot eyes, a thick five o'clock shadow, and crumpled dress whites. He looked like he'd gone through hell. Thomas, I said grogly. What's wrong? Get to your station. He said hurriedly. There's some sort of a problem. I frowned as I checked my watch. What? But it's not my shift. Where's Adam?

He shook his head. Don't know. Just get out of bed and get down to the boiler room. He turned and walked briskly out of the room, not even waiting for a reply. I blinked, swung my feet, and jumped out of my bunk. A couple of minutes later, I was out in the hallway, where there was a flurry of activity.

Crew members seemed to be running helter-skelter. Normally, it wouldn't be too unusual to see something like that on a ship like this, but something about the chaos unnerved me. The air seemed to be thick with some uncertain tension, like people knew something had gone terribly wrong. But they just didn't know what. Hey! I called out to the nearest person walking past me.

Is everything okay? He looked at me, eyes wide and dazed. Is everything okay? Everything is okay. Everything is okay. Everything is okay. He muttered and continued walking. A chill ran down my spine at the weird exchange. I felt my boots quicken as I made my way towards boiler room six. A hot, decidedly unwelcoming breeze washed over my face. I took a deep breath and slipped into the room. Immediately, the sound of whistling steam and pumping pistons filled my ears. Shielding my face from the heat,

I started walking down the gantry. Adam, I called out. You there? I knew he couldn't hear me, but I shouted out his name anyway. More for my comfort, I guess. Hearing my own voice somehow shielded me from the strange fear

that was coiling around my heart. The twisting iron ladder wound its way down, and the weird feeling in my chest and in my belly continued to get worse. I couldn't explain it, but it felt like I was going deep. deeper and deeper into the devil's maw. After what felt like eons, I found myself at the bottom, near the furnaces.

And on the wall opposite the furnaces, I found something that gave a concrete justification to my fear. The strangest symbols had been etched onto the wall, with what seemed to be dried blood. They were so bizarre, so alien. I couldn't make heads or tails out of them, but I couldn't look away from them either. There was a certain magnetic quality to them. The more I looked, the more I wanted to look. It seemed like my mind. My consciousness was slipping into a maze,

one that grew more intricate and more dizzying the deeper I got into it. My heart started pounding in my chest. Alarm bells rang wildly in my brain, trying to pull me out of whatever strange trance I was getting sucked into. But nothing helped. Not until a sound. of someone gasping. It pulled my mind away from those symbols

and was aware of my reality again. But the confusion didn't dissipate. Who had gasped? And how had I managed to hear it over all the damn noise of the boiler room? The gasp came again. But this time it was accompanied by another sound. Something wet, being dragged across a metal floor.

Both somehow louder than the groans of the ship. I turned around to trace the sword of that sound and finally saw Adam. Instantly, I wished I hadn't. Dozens of wrist-thick, foot-long iron spikes had been driven into his skull, radially, making it look like he had an abominable black halo. His tongue rolled out of his mouth, pink and fat,

while his eyes rolled back into his skull. He was crawling towards me, crawling, because it was all he could do. because the lower half of his body had been sawed off, the deep red trail of blood being the only evidence that he had ever had legs. What the fuck? What had he done? I stumbled and ended up falling flat on my ass. I pushed myself away from him as he continued to crawl towards me

and anguished groan spilling from his throat. The bones on his arms snapped with the sound as loud as gunshots as he reached for me. His elongated arms wrapped around my legs. and pulled me towards him. It's never too early to plan your summer story in Europe with WestJet, from rolling countryside to cobblestone streets. Begin your next chapter. Book your seat at westjet.com or call your travel agent.

WestJet, where your story takes off. I was in the D-Deck reception room when disaster struck. After having had a rather heavy dinner in the first-class saloon, I had decided to sit and let the food settle in my stomach before trudging back to my quarters. Leaning back on one of the padded chairs, I admired the exquisite craftsmanship of the wooden staircase. It truly was spectacular.

I haven't seen work like that in my life. They really don't make them like that anymore. Soft yellow lamp lights lit up my surroundings. I could feel my eyes drooping as the food made my stomach rumble in comfort. Time to go to bed, I thought. I yawned and prepared to get out of bed when an ear-shattering scream cut the silence like a knife through wet paper. My heart beat dangerously against my chest. What in the world?

I looked around and saw the other two people in the reception. Both men older than me, looking just as confused as I felt. What was that? One of them asked. No clue, I replied a bit shakily. seemed like it came from downstairs. We should go check it out, the other replied, already getting out of his seat.

I nodded absent-mindedly and started following him. We rushed down the stairs I had just been admiring, our boots clicking sharply on the polished wood. As we reached E-deck, another scream ripped through the hallway to our right. We turned and ducked into the halls housing the crew dormitories. Bright white-paneled walls greeted us. I didn't spare them more than a glance Because my attention was instantly drawn to the blood

flowing down the hallway It seemed to be spilling out of a room further down on the right So much blood One of my companions muffled a gas What is this? The other one asked How? Where is the crew? We should leave I whispered

Something is not right here We need to get help I saw the one in front of me nod And open his mouth to say something But he was cut off by the wet sound of flesh slapping against wood. My eyes darted towards the room the blood was gushing out of, and they quickly widened as they spotted an arm wrapping itself around the wall next to the doorway. Someone was pulling themselves out of the room.

No, not someone. Something. An abomination. Hell stepped through that door. A primal, soul-crushing terror gripped my heart. What I saw couldn't. couldn't possibly be real. That writhing mass of flesh,

dozens of limbs and skulls fused together like that, somehow still alive. I had read about rat kings in a book of dozens of rats tied together by their tails. It was something like that, but worse. So much worse. How could this be?

What could meld human beings together like that? We have to help them! The man in front of me shouted. I stared at him. eyebrows furrowed in shock. You can't be serious. I glanced back at the other man to try to get his help to knock some scent into this guy,

but the horrifying sight had made him faint. He slumped against the wall. His pants already soaked with blood. I turned back to the other guy. No, we need to get out of here. You can't help that thing. You don't even understand what that is. No, they're people, he insisted.

We have to help them. Come. without checking whether I was listening to him. He started towards the fleshman thing that was now slowly, ever so slowly, crawling towards us. This time, I chose not to follow him. But I didn't run away either. Something made me stay there.

Something suspiciously like curiosity. What exactly was I curious about? What was I hoping to see? Certainly not what I actually ended up seeing. As the man approached the monstrosity, A flailing, seemingly boneless arm shot towards him like a whip and wrapped itself around his neck. The man's eyes widened in fear. He tried to scream, but the flesh tentacles hold on his throat was too tight.

The thing began to pull the man towards him. He tried to resist, tried to claw himself free, but it was useless. Within seconds, the man was yanked into the abomination, and he quickly became a part of it. A horrible sound of cracking bones and squishing flesh filled the hallway as my companion was turned into another barely discernible part of the creature. His face embedded in the thick fat, looking at me with utter terrors stretched across it. That's when I ran. A scream finally managed to rip itself free from my throat as I turned and got the hell

out of there as quickly as my legs would allow me. By this time, the ship had hit the iceberg. People were heading to the lifeboats, however few of those there were. I didn't warn anyone else of what I had seen, or ask anyone whether they had experienced something similar. I was too traumatized to do that.