Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - 5 Vacation Horror Stories

Episode Date: May 14, 2021

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Talk to nicely. It was the summer of 2018. I had recently graduated college with two of my good friends, John and Haley. John had been a close friend my whole life, and I met Haley in one of my college classes. I had a crush on Haley since I met her. She was a beautiful girl, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a small, petite figure. I always wondered what a girl like her was doing single. Haley suggested that John and I join her for a few days in New York City.

She said it would be a great way to blow off some steam before we got started with our real jobs. John and I found really cheap airline tickets and a reasonably priced Airbnb in Midtown New York City, and we decided to go. We planned on staying for three nights, but little did I know. We would be back after just one night. We had just arrived to our Airbnb from the airport. The sun was just beginning to set on the New York City skyline. The view was incredible from the high-rise condo we were staying in. I wasn't used to big cities, so everything seemed a bit overwhelming.

Since we arrived at our Airbnb, Haley had been on her phone most of the time. I asked her what she was doing, and she told me it was none of my business. I glanced over her shoulder, and before she could shield her phone, I saw the Tinder logo. I said, come on, Haley, really? A girl like you shouldn't be on Tinder. She said, I'm just messing around and it's harmless anyways. I told her, you have to be careful. There's a lot of creeps on there.

Who knew that those words would foreshadow what was to come? After dinner, Haley suggested we all go out. She said she knew of an upscale two-story club downtown. I said, how do you even know of a club when this is your first time in New York City? Haley said, I saw some good reviews online. I said, sure. I bet your newfound Tinder boyfriend said to go to this club. Haley laughed and said,

Okay, maybe you're right, but I think we should still go. He seemed like a cool guy, and if he isn't, we can just leave. I knew Haley was going to have her way regardless, so I didn't even try and argue with her. I said, okay, fine, we will go to this club, but if he is sketchy, we are leaving right away. The club was about a mile away, so we decided to walk. As we got closer to the nightclub, we started to hear the base. We rounded a corner and saw a line of about 20 people waiting to get into the club. The exterior of the nightclub was all brick and had green vines running down the side.

I glanced at the club's windows and saw bright neon flashing lights. I could also make out the dancing silhouettes of partygoers, even though they were only about 20 people in line. It seemed like they weren't letting anyone in. Every couple minutes someone would walk up, skip the line, and go right in. I thought they must be well connected to completely skip the line to a premier nightclub. Maybe politicians or rich business owners, I thought to myself. As I was in line, something caught my eye through one of the second floor windows.

I saw someone's head pressed up against the glass. The windows were tinted, so I couldn't make out any details, but it seemed like the person was looking in my direction. I thought maybe the person was looking for a friend who was stuck in line. I glanced away and looked back at the window and the person was gone. After waiting for what seemed like forever, we finally made it inside the club. The area was crowded, but not as packed as I thought. There were two bars on the right and left side of the club on the first floor.

On the far end of the club, there were two spiral staircases leading to the second floor. The second floor wrapped around the entire nightclub and overlooked the dance floor. Haley suggested that we get some drinks before it gets too crowded. John and I agreed and followed her to the bar. As we were walking to the bar, I made eye contact with a guy on the second floor. He was leaning against the railing facing my direction. He seemed very scrawny and pale. He had a bowl cut, and his hair was parted down the middle of his forehead.

I kept holding eye contact with him. As we held stairs, he slowly started to smile at me. His smile got bigger and bigger. His smile got so big, I could make out every tooth in his mouth. As he smiled at me, he pointed at himself, and then he pointed towards the bar. I looked over to where he was pointing, and I realized it was exactly where Haley was standing. I looked back at him, but he was gone. Chills ran down my spine. adrenaline began to flow through me like a fire hose. His appearance and creepy smile reminded me of a horror movie villain. I got a really bad vibe from this guy and wanted to leave immediately.

I pulled John aside and told him what had just happened. John said not to worry about it and that the guy was probably just trying to mess with me. I told John this time it's different and that I know when someone is just messing around. I told John not to tell Haley about what had just happened. I didn't want her to freak out. I went up to Haley and said, Maybe we should check out another bar or club. She said,

No way, we just waited in line for 30 minutes. Let's at least get a couple of drinks and chill out for a bit. I thought to myself, maybe the creepy guy I saw was the same guy Haley was talking to on Tinder. I asked Haley if her Tinder guy was here. Haley said, the guy told me he was here, but he hasn't been responding to my messages. I asked Haley if I could take a look at his Tinder profile.

She laughed and asked me if I was jealous. I said, just let me see his page. Haley was reluctant at first, but she finally agreed and handed me her phone. She noticed the stressed-out look on my face. She laughed and said, Man, this Tinder guy has you really stressed out, huh? I ignored her. After taking a look at Haley's Tinder guy, I realized he wasn't the creepy guy I saw earlier. The Tinder guy was a buff New York City firefighter. I handed the phone back to Haley, and she got in line to order a drink. Now I didn't know what to think. Was this all just a misunderstanding? Was this creepy guy just a looking at someone else and not me, maybe one of his friends? After thinking about the situation,

I knew he had to have been looking at me. But how did this creep know Haley, or me for that matter? As I looked around, I noticed the club was significantly more crowded. It was getting harder to move around. My mind went to Haley again. I glanced around, and I didn't see Haley anymore. I started to get really anxious. Right before I started to panic, I saw the back of Haley's head some distance away at the front of the bar. A side and relieved. Finally, Haley made it back to us with a few drinks in her hands. As she was walking up to us, I knew something wasn't right. Haley had a pale look to her face, like she saw a ghost or something.

I asked her, what's up? What happened to you? She started breaking down crying. I grabbed her and pulled her into my arms. I said, everything's going to be okay. Tell me exactly what happened. She said, I heard some guy say my name in really creepy voice. He said, Haley.

It sounded so close. as if he was standing just a foot away from me. There were so many people around me I couldn't figure out who it was. At first, I thought it was just you messing with me. But then I saw you standing way over here. I knew it couldn't be you. All of a sudden, Haley's phone started lighting up with Tinder notifications. She began reading them and said,

Oh my God, I said, what's wrong? She said, read this. The Tinder firefighter guy said his account had been hacked and that all the messages that had been sent to Haley were not from him. We all agreed we needed to leave as fast as possible. We bolted from the nightclub and quickly waved down a taxi. We headed immediately back to our Airbnb. A huge sense of relief filled my body.

My heart rate started to slow down, and I started to feel normal. I was so glad to be out of that place. We arrived at the main lobby of our Airbnb. I pressed the button for the elevator, and we all got in. I saw a Snapchat notification pop up on Haley's phone. Haley looked down at her phone, and I saw the same ghostly look come across her face again. I thought to myself, oh no, what now? She said, Oh my God. I totally forgot I added the Tinder guy on Snapchat before we went out. I asked

Haley if she had her location on. She said, yes, I do. Why? I said, that creep knows where we were staying and knows we are right before I could even finish my sentence the elevator doors opened and my heart dropped. Right in front of us was the same creepy guy at the nightclub. He was staring right at us. That same fanatical smile across his pale face. He said, Why did you guys leave in such a hurry? We were just starting to have fun. I don't know what happened that night or what she was planning to do with me. I am just glad I made it out alive. It all started when my friends and I decided to go to Vegas for my 21st birthday. At the last minute, everyone bailed besides my good friend Dylan. We got to Vegas and checked into a fancy hotel

on the Vegas strip. It was $400 a night, so I was glad we were only staying for three nights. After checking in, a brunette girl came over to Dylan and I. She was drop-dead gorgeous. She had a thick Russian accent. I always had a thing for accents. She had on tight jeans and a shirt that matched the colors of the hotel. She asked us if we needed help bringing our luggage to our room. I quickly said yes before Dylan could even mutter a word. I asked for her name, and she said it was Alexandria. I thought, wow, a hot name too. As we made our way up to the room, I made small talk with her. We got to her room, and Alexandria just stood there awkwardly. I completely forgot Bellgirls, work for tips. I quickly pulled out my wallet and gave her a 20.

She smiled and winked at me. But before I could even say another word, she turned her back and walked down the hall. Dylan said to me, if you keep tipping like that, you'll be out of money the first night. I said, I know, man, but she was just so hot. The first night, Dylan and I bar hopped on the Vegas strip. I don't even remember getting back to the hotel. My next morning was met with a hangover from hell. Every time I moved, I would feel a pounding in my head. Somehow, Dylan was completely fine. He didn't even feel hung over at all and wanted to go out and party more. He told me there was a pool party nearby. I told Dylan that he should go by himself because I wanted to get some rest. I woke up a few hours later to Dylan coming back to the room soaking wet. He told me to get

ready to go out. He said he met some cool guys and girls who were having a pregame in another room. My head still felt like a bomb went off inside. I told him to go out and that I may join him later. Dylan left without protesting. I went to sleep and woke up two hours later. It was 8 p.m. I felt much better and decided to go to the hotel bar. I figured a drink or two would get me back to feeling normal. I sat down at the bar and ordered to drink. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alexandria. She was wearing tight leather pants and a red shirt.

She looked stunning. I noticed she was coming towards me. I thought there was no way she even remembered me. She sat down right next to me and ordered a drink. My heart started racing in excitement. She nudged me on the shoulder and said, Hey, we hit it off right away. I learned that she came from Russia on a work visa

and sent most of her money back home to her family. As we talked back and forth, she started to gently touch me. It was subtle, but I got the message that she liked me. I started to touch her back, and then we started making out. After making out at the bar for a while, I thought a more private setting would be more appropriate.

I told Alexandria I was going to use the restroom, and then after we could go back to my room. She happily agreed. I returned from the restroom and closed out my tab. As I left the bar, Alexandria nudged me. She said, you're not going to finish your drink? I didn't even notice I still had anything in my drink. I quickly picked up my glass and downed it. Alexandria chuckled. It wasn't a friendly laugh. It had an evil undertone to it. I instantly got a bad feeling from her. She yanked on my arm and said, let's go back to you. It was a friendly laugh. It had an evil undertone to it. She yanked on my arm and said, Let's go back to your room, silly. As we got close to the elevator, my vision started to fade.

My legs started feeling like putty. I heard someone asked in the background, Is he okay? I tried to cry for help, but nothing came out. Alexandria answered, he's fine, just had too much to drink. The elevator door shut, and that's the last thing I remembered. I woke up in my hotel bed. My hands and feet were tied to the bedposts.

Alexandria was standing in front of the bed. She was dressed in a white coat. almost like a surgeon. I noticed there were all kinds of medical tools on the nightstand. I heard her say, Fuck, he's not supposed to be awake yet. I started screaming. Alexandria quickly gathered her things and left. An hour later, Dylan helped untie me. He had a big smile across his face. He asked, What kind of kinky stuff did you guys do? I told him everything that happened, and he was shocked. I went to take a shower to get ready for bed. I opened the bathroom door and was horrified to what I found. The bathtub was filled to the brim with ice.

There was a cooler next to the toilet filled with ice also. I didn't know what to think. Was Alexandria a crazed killer? Was she trying to harvest my organs? All I know for sure is that I'm not going to Vegas anytime soon. I want to give a huge shout out here to my first ever $12 per month patrons, Slayan, Alyssa, Mike, and Jacob. Three months from now, you guys will be receiving my brand new 12 by 18 inch Dr. Noseley

in the mail. You guys also have full access to all my bonus episodes as well, so be sure to check those out. If you would like to join my Patreon as well to unlock these bonus perks, then go to patreon.com slash DR No Sleep to join. Now time for the story. A loud ring alerts me to a guest's arrival. I brushed lunches leftover crumbs for my uniform and put on my customer service smile. The customer's happiness is the hotel's success after all, and I'm proud of my position here. Welcome to Quality Stay. The guest is pretty, almost model pretty, but not quite, and young, must be in her 20s. She just sighs, exasperated, as if she's already exhausted by my enthusiasm. I'd dial back my tone a smidge. Checking in? The guest merely nods, glances down at her phone.

Place looked nicer in the photos, but I guess that's what I get for booking budget. Her dark, oversized sunglasses make it difficult to tell if she's talking to me or just complaining to her Well, miss, I can assure you that you've booked with the region's premier all-inclusive hotel. Silence. Reservation should be under Cynthia Locke, she grunts, inspecting the counter's cleanliness. It should be in fine order. I disinfect every hour, only hour, more often as needed. That's the quality way, and that's my way.

Fabulous, Miss Locke, I confirm, clasping my hands together. We have you in room 112. I'll just, she scoffs. First floor, seriously? Take a deep breath, tap on some keys. Well, today is your lucky day, Miss Locke. We have an upgrade available. Top floor, balcony room.

How much? No extra fees, I insist, leaning forward. All-inclusive. She seems unimpressed. Fine. Oh, fantastic, I exclaimed. The woman flinches. Take a deep breath, quiet myself down, and ready her keys.

All righty. I'll show you to your room. I step round the corner to heave her designer bag over my shoulder. She watches so intently that it might as well be carrying her child. I guide her down the hallway. She stops when the buzzing sound of power tools emanates from behind a door. There better not be any construction on my floor. Instruction?

I flash a smile. No, certainly not, miss. We enter the elevator. I nudge the button for the top floor. It's not a long way up. We're a smaller hotel. focused on quality customer experience. We exit at the top.

Her leather bag weighing down on my aching shoulder, though my smile never wavers. Screams arise from room 512. The guest points to the door. The fuck is that? Oh. Nancy hosts scream therapy sessions each afternoon. If you want to join in, it's all-inclusive.

I get it, she snaps. Chuckling, a director to Room 536, where I slide the key through the reader and gently push past her to prop the door. open like a true gentleman. She groans at the side of our most exclusive room. As I shift her bag off my shoulder, she yelps, not on the floor. I tenderly lay her luggage on the bed instead. Oh, I almost forgot. Complementary champagne. I interject with excited jazz hands. Is it? Yes, Miss Locke, it's chilled. I pour a glass from the bottle in the mini fridge and make my exit.

I wait about 20 minutes for the sedatives to kick in, then enter with my card of tools. Quick jab in the neck to bleed her out? Painless, really. Before I expertly carved chunks of flesh off bone. Humming while I work, I drop the meat into chilled, ice-filled buckets. Once I'm finished, I stow the buckets on the cart's bottom level, obscuring them with the cloth liner. I'm due in the kitchen, but I make a stop to knock at room 512. Nancy emerges, a short, middle-aged woman with mousy brown hair. I bend to retrieve one of the buckets, resting it upon the top of my cart. Oh, Clarence, she breathes, a mischievous smile forming as she gazes down at its contents, one of Miss Locke's dismembered hands.

Room service? You angel. She looks up and down the hall before craning open her mouth, jaw creaking as it unhinges, and tossing the treat into her gaping maw. Nancy swallows it whole, throat swelling, and pulsating as she passes her meal. Gulping, she fishes in her pocket for a tip. Oh, stop it, Nance. I grin, then wink. Remember, it's all inclusive. Hey everyone, I want to take a quick second to remind you all to click that follow button if you're listening on Spotify.

This way you'll get notified every time a new episode is released. Now back to the story. Knock, knock, knock, stiff, professional, cold. I have to restrain myself from giving away a secret knock upon my boss's door. The one to communicate that business hours are over, that the visit is strictly for pleasure. I'm startled, but not surprised, when his wife opens the door to their hotel room. Good morning, Mrs. Jensen, I chirp. I know it's wrong to sleep with your married boss, and certainly worse to take a vacation with him and his wife, but what can I say?

I love the man. Of course I jump on the opportunity to sit poolside with him sipping margaritas. As his personal assistant, I can get away with going almost anywhere with him. Between sightseeing and lavish dinners out, I've been handling his scheduling, taking his calls. Hi, Lily, she mutters, flustered. I feel my face reddening, as I wonder if she heard us last night. The disarray of her room shows she's nowhere near ready to check out. Uh, ready to go, ma'am?

She just shakes her head solemnly, orb and hair spilling over her aging face. No, uh, I just decided to extend my. day. Grant's been caught away for business. I'm sure you know that, of course. She quips, a slight bitterness to her tone. Uh, of course, I stammer, lying, all part of the act. I've packed Grant's bag. He'll meet you at the airport. There's some of my stuff in there too, if you could remind him to start the wash when he gets home. She rolls the bag into the doorway. I take hold of the handle. Got it, I confirm. A sudden pang of guilt rising, as I note how exhausted, how depressed she looks.

You get some rest, okay? The haggard woman nods lethargically. Yeah, I, uh, I'm going to take a bath. Thanks, Lil. As she nudges the door closed in my face, I roll our bags down the hallway with some efforts. Mrs. Jensen must be a heavy packer. I check out before heading to the rental car.

I'm able to lift my own bag into the trunk with ease. Clarence has to assist with the other. I arrive at the airport and park in the return lot. I struggle with the Jensen's suitcase for several minutes to no avail, and no one's around to help shoulder the load. The bag is stuffed nearly to the brim. I unzip my mostly empty suitcase to move some of their belongings to my own. When I reach for the zipper on the Jensen's bag, I'm sickened by how moist it is. The fabric is absolutely drenched.

One of Mrs. Jensen's creams or lotions must have burst, I tell myself. As I slowly unzip the case, I flip it open and my heart shatters, practically stops. A ringing escalates in my ears, my vision blows. Inside the suitcase, I find the pieces of my forbidden lover, my boss. My grant, his eyes frozen in a wide, pleading stare. I open my mouth to scream. I started shaking in horror and disbelief. I remembered back to the buzzing of power tours I heard all morning.

I assumed it to be the hotel making renovations, but I realize now, though, that there were no renovations, that there was no construction at all. There was only the deconstruction of Grant's lifeless body. I swear to God, if I miss this flight home, my boss will have my head. The damn traffic and a painfully slow Uber driver have left me entering the airport with only 20 minutes until takeoff. I leave a sigh of quasi-relief, as I notice the line for security isn't full of people standing idle, snaked around to oblivion. I take my place in line, fuming. I didn't even want to take this trip.

I only left town to attend my uncle's funeral. It may sound cold, but I'm not even grieving. The man was a useless shit stain from the moment he was born to the moment he drove headfirst into a tree trunk, drunk off his ass. As I reached the front of the line, I rushed through the motions, setting my work laptop and its own separate bin, shoes, and belt removed, duffel bag dropped on the conveyor belt. Once I'm through, I practically sprint to collect my belongings. I almost put my shoes on the wrong feet. I'm so scattered. I check the gate on my boarding pass, then glance up at the overhead signage, groaning.

Just my luck. Opposite side of the building. With no time to spare, I duck and dart around packs of travelers moving lethargically to their own boarding locations. I'm out of breath by the time I reached the gate, just at final boarding call. shoving my boarding pass into the steward's hand, I busy myself with a voicemail. It's an angry tirade for my boss, of course, demanding I come into the office as soon as the plane's wheels hit the ground. Sir, are you? Are you sure this is your destination? I hardly hear him over my boss's yowling, frustrated. I grit my teeth.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, just let me on. Shrugging, he scans my pass. I juggle my luggage while drafting an email on my phone, finding the final available spot beside a rather ill-looking woman. Sighing, I thrust my bag in the overhead space and pop into the seat. The plane takes off with no mention of safety protocols. Either that, or I'm too distracted to notice. I've just closed my eyes to settle in for a nap. When the passenger beside me taps my shoulder. So, she chuckles nervously. You ready for the heat? Christ, I think. She's one of those people. I offer a curt response, hoping she'll take the hint. I've lived in Phoenix all my life, so

So, well, I guess that certainly helped prepare you. Her response confuses me, unsettles me, but not enough to pry any further. I'm finally getting comfortable again when she interjects. What brings you to our, um, our destination? I'm on business. On business, she goffaws. Must be a lawyer. I've heard there's plenty of those where we're going.

I borrow my frow, dig through my pocket for my boarding pass. There must be some mistake. She takes my silence as an opportunity to ramble on. I'm sorry. I'm not usually like this. I'm just anxious. I made my decisions. I heard a lot of people. She grimaces exaggeratedly before whispering. Between you and me, I killed my husband. Stuffed the pieces in his mistress's suitcase. The woman raises the sleeve of her shirt to reveal two gaping slashes running vertically up her arm, still oozing dark blood. Reccoiling, I glance frantically around the plane and its passengers. They're all pale, dark circles etched under their eyes.

Some are old and frail, but some are young and shouldn't look so ghastly. One has a gruesome shotgun blast to his stomach, torn open into a seeping pit. I don't know where I am. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know who any of these people are. Don't know what they are at all. I tense, panicking, until my gaze lands on a familiar face, just across the aisle. He's barely recognizable due to his injuries. Face bruised and swollen, nose crushed, limbs broken at odd angles. It's impossible, but I know that I'm not.

know him. It's my uncle. The one whose casket was buried mere hours ago. He gives me a smile and a wave. Teeth shattered, fingers crumpled. I look down to my boarding pass. In my haste, I've misread the gate number. This is, this is not my flight. The pilot's voice abruptly comes on the overhead speaker, eerily cheerful with patches of distortion. Where? Where are we going? The woman looks to me, confused, as the plane launches into a sudden nosedive. The comfort of gravity is ripped from beneath me all at once. She appears completely unfazed. Isn't it obvious? The temperature rapidly increases to a sweltering heat, windows fogging over and cracking in the blistering atmosphere. We're going down. Thanks for listening. If you're tuning in on Apple Podcast, please take a second

and leave a rating. Also, don't forget to check out my animated horror stories on YouTube. Just search doctor no sleep in the search bar to find my channel.