Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - Black-Eyed Demons | Part 1

Episode Date: February 20, 2023

👕 New Dr. NoSleep Merch: DrNoSleep.com - Free shipping within the U.S. 🎉 Ad-free episodes + bonus episodes: https://www.patreon.com/drnosleep 🎧 Check out The SCP Experience podcast here: https://spoti.fi/3juM1og ✅ Send all advertising inquiries to: [e-mail] Author: Matt Doggett Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/MatthewDoggettAuthor/ Website/Newsletter sign up: matthewdoggettauthor.com New Book Releases: https://www.amazon.com/Matthew-G-Doggett/e/B08FD5378Z 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

If you enjoy these stories and want more, check out my Patreon. As a patron, you will receive early access to my podcast episodes every day. You will also be able to access my catalog of bonus episodes exclusively available only on my Patreon. Most importantly, your support helps me create more quality content. Now back to the story. I work with furious intensity at the small window, trying to fit the tip of the screwdriver into the small slot on the window hinge. Behind me, at the door, a crazed mob works to break into the room.

To get in here, to kill us all. We've pulled stacks of chairs in front of the door to hold them, but it won't work for much longer. There are too many of them. Janet Fuller and Linda Amarro brace themselves against the stacks of chairs, fighting against the mob. Helen Fuller, who's only 16, watches me work. She's the only one who can fit through the narrow basement window,

the only one who can get out to get help. Perez Amaro stands by with a small crowbar in hand, but we need to do this without breaking the window, without broadcasting to the people out in the hall what we're up to. Blood drips down into my right eye, making me effectively blind. My left eye radiates pain, and half of my vision goes in and out of focus as I blink.

I'm afraid I won't ever be able to see well out of that eye again, but there are bigger things to worry about, like my life and the lives of the four other people in the room. I wipe at my right eye with the back of my hand, clearing the blood and allowing you to see slightly better. My hands shake, and I can't seem to unlock the hinge with the tip of the screwdriver. My fine motor skills are shot. Too much fear.

Too much panic and adrenaline and disbelief. But if I can't get this window open all the way, we'll all die. I tossed the screwdriver down in frustration and put my hand out for the crowbar. Perez slaps the tool into my hand. I try not to think about how long it will take for Helen to get help. By the time she does, the rest of us will surely be dead. But it's something. Saving her life is something.

The sound of the doorbell brings me out of my book. I look over at my wife, who's lying on the couch with her. lying on the couch with her legs propped on my thighs. Her eyebrows go up over her hazel eyes as she lays her book on her chest. You expecting someone? she says. I shake my head, putting my book down. Nope. I'll see who it is. I'll get it.

Brandon calls from upstairs. The declaration is followed by the sound of his hurried footsteps on the stairs. No, you will not. June calls, lifting her legs so I can stand up. I glance at the clocks as a lot. as I move out of the den and through the kitchen. It's seven after ten on a Saturday night, much later than we're used to having visitors. As I turn the corner into the entryway, I see Brandon with his hand on the doorknob.

Didn't you hear your mother? I ask him. He freezes and looks over his shoulder at me. A mischievous grin on his face. One upper tooth is missing, having fallen out three days ago. The tooth fairy gave him a whopping five dollars for it. I guess the tooth fairy is made of money. Come here, you little jack-o-lantern, I say to him.

He steps away from the door just as the doorbell rings again, testing my patience. I'm coming! I call out. Hold on! Turning my attention to my son, I say. What do we tell you about answering the door by yourself? His grin fades, but a smirk stays on his face. I'm old enough.

You're old enough when we say you're old enough, I tell him. Now, go get ready for bed. You should already be in your pajamas. Brandon runs to the staircase, but I hear him stop to see who's at the door. He's at that age where boundless energy meets unbridled curiosity, which means headaches for mom and dad. I peer through the peephole before unlocking and opening the door. Luke Richards looks up at me with worried eyes.

He fidgets on the stoop, small bugs whirling around his head and bouncing off the porch light. Ethan, he says. I need to talk to you. Hey, Luke, I say. Been a while. Come on in. Luke glances over his shoulder at the quiet street. Modest houses with glowing windows sit peacefully.

Their residence inside. Enjoying the weekend night. Luke steps through the door, playing with the zipper pull tab on his light jacket. As we move toward the kitchen, June appears and says hello. Hey. Luke says simply, barely looking. her in the eye. Then he turns to me and says, Can we talk in private? Sure, I say. Of course. Let's go to my office. As we turn down the

hallway, I shrug and answer to my wife's questioning look. There's an armchair in my office that Luke sits in. I pull out my desk chair and sit in it, turning it to face him. What's going on? Everything okay? I ask. I need to ask you a favor, Luke says. Okay. What is it? "'Come to church tomorrow,' Luke says. "'Please.' "'I sit back in my chair. "'You know how I feel about Pastor Paul, "'and you know how he feels about me.

"'I don't think it's a good idea.' "'Please, Ethan,' Luke says, "'scooting forward to the edge of his seat. "'Please, this is important to me. "'I've... "'You've what?' I prompt. "'I've had a vision. "'I know you don't believe in that stuff,

but I've been praying about it ever since. It's... You just need to be there tomorrow. It's not that I don't believe in it, I tell him. It's just that I don't agree with the way Pastor Paul goes about his teachings. He's more of a politician than a spiritual leader. I know, I know, Lucas says. And he's been changing lately.

That's why I want you to come. I want you to see for yourself. Please. I take a deep breath, considering... It's really not a lot to ask. I haven't been to church in a while. Most Sundays, June, Brandon, and I do our own little worship session. And I like that better than going and sitting in church.

I certainly know Brandon likes it better. And he seems to pay more attention. He seems to absorb things. But it wouldn't hurt to go back just once, to see what all the fuss is about. Do you want to tell me about your vision? I ask Luke. He shakes his head. It wouldn't make much sense to you, but will you come?

Yeah, I say. I'll come. Oh, thank you. Thank you, Ethan. You don't know what this means to me. Of course, I say. Now, tell me how you've been, Luke. I feel like we haven't talked in a long while.

Yeah, Luke says, clearly relaxing slightly now that I've said yes. Things have been okay. Just really focusing on my faiths. since the divorce. I nod. That's good. Do you want a beer or anything? No, he says, standing. No, I should go now. It's late. Okay. You sure you don't want to tell me about your vision? I'm sure, he says, but you'll be there tomorrow, right? I will, yeah. I'll bring June and Brandon along too. No, Luke says, nearly shouting. Whoa, what is going on with you, Luke? Are you sure you're okay? I'm fine. Just don't bring them, okay? Just come alone. I study him for a long

moment. He returns my gaze. Is this something I need to be worried about? I ask him. No, he says. No. How long have we known each other? I wouldn't steer you wrong. This will all make sense tomorrow, I promise. Just come by yourself. Nine o'clock. Okay, I'll be there. Alone, that's what you want. It is. I walk Luke out and say goodnight, watching after him as he moves down the sidewalk in the direction of his small apartment building, four blocks away.

As I shut the door, June comes down the stairs wearing mismatched pajamas. What was that about? She asks. I can smell the toothpaste on her breath. I don't really know. I haven't seen Luke like that since Maureen filed for divorce. He was acting real strange. but he practically begged me to come to church tomorrow.

Alone. June raises an eyebrow in question. Oh, she says. Well, you're welcome to it. I don't want to hear Pastor Paul spout his nonsense for an hour. I hear he's only gotten worse. Who said that? Oh, Tabby.

She said she stopped going when he started doing these long, crazy rants about politics. Sounds about right, I say. Well, you and Brandon can have your own. little session while I'm gone. We will, June says with a smile. I'll get to read the Bible to Brandon for a change. No offense, but you're a boring reader. Boring? I gas. How dare you? I reach out to tickle her. She laughs and bolts back up the stairs as I chase her. The New Endeavor Church looks different as I pull into the parking lot at 8.50 on Sunday morning. They've done something to the windows that I can't quite place. They look as if they've been replaced.

but I could be wrong. It has been a while since I've been here or driven past. The church is a simple rectangular brick building with a pointed roof. Four windows line each side of the structure. The front doors are large, heavy, and wooden, with small ornate windows at head height. The parking lot isn't full, but there are plenty of cars. I imagine that the pews will be about three-quarters full when the service starts. As I park my car, I look around for some.

of Luke. I don't see him, and I don't see his SUV either. Then again, I am 10 minutes early. Several people glare at me as I walk toward the doors. I try not to take it personally, but that's easier said than done. I definitely get the feeling I'm not wanted here. This is strange, because I've never been one to talk trash behind someone's back. Luke knows about my feelings for Pastor Paul because our families used to attend church together every Sunday. and when June and I made the decision to stop, I explained our feelings to him, but I didn't go around town denouncing the church. Of course, not showing up anymore as a denunciation in itself, suppose. Still, I have a very odd feeling as I walked to the doors. There are a couple of

greeters there, Mack Pollard and Susie Libsum. They smile and say hello to the people ahead of me, but as soon as they see me, their expressions falter. Mack, a graying man with large teeth and a sizable mall on his forehead, steps in front of the door. Hey, Ethan, he says. What are you doing here? I smile thinking it's a joke, but when I look between him and Susie, I see that it's not. I was hoping to attend the service, say, keeping the smile on my face with some effort. Mack asks, why the sudden change of heart? Luke invited me, I say. But why does that matter?

Is this a closed session now? Do I need to know a secret password? Mack glances over at Susie, who's a severe-looking middle-aged woman with sharp features and bottle blonde hair. There are people piling up behind me on the walkway, many of them murmuring. Susie seems to shrug with her eyes as she looks back at Mac. The man turns toward me, smiles, and steps aside. Don't forget to put your phone in the box, he says, gesturing just inside the doors.

I pause. What? Oh, yeah, he says. I guess we enacted that policy since you left. No phones allowed in the nave anymore. Pastor Paul doesn't want anyone distracted from God. Most folks just leave theirs at home or in the car, but we still have the box for those who don't. Sure enough, I step inside and see a decorated box sitting on a table. There are about a dozen phones sitting inside.

Reluctantly, I take my phone out and put it inside. Glad to have you back. Max says in a tone that suggests the opposite. Thanks, I say. What in the hell is going on here? I think as I walk through the entryway. To my left and right or stairs leading up to the balcony seating area. But there won't be enough people inside to warrant their use.

I move through the entryway and into the entryway. the main room, the nave. The first thing I notice is the closed shutters over the interior windows. Their heavy-duty metal shutter secured with padlocks. Since they aren't allowing any sunlight in, the only illumination in the place comes from the recessed lights overhead in the peaked ceiling. It gives the space a solemn atmosphere. People dressed in their Sunday best are getting comfortable in the pews. A few people stand in the center aisle, chatting. Several kids kids goof around on the outskirts of the pews. Ethan!

A man calls out from the middle of the right row of pews. It's Ralph Fuller, a guy I work with at elite heating and air conditioning. He's here with his family, and he smiles and waves. I raise a hand and greeting as he gestures me over. Good to see you back in church, he says. I say hello to his wife, Janet, and their sullen teenage daughter, Helen, before taking a seat next to Ralph. What brings you back?

Ralph asks, sensing eyes on me, I look over my shoulder without answering. The youth ministry leader, a serious and well-kempt man named Keenan Delaney, stands near the open nave doors, staring at me as Mack whispers in his ear. He wears starched and pressed khaki pants with a powder-blue long-sleeve shirt. Keenan nods at Mack and then hurries through the nave, heading toward the rooms at the back of the church. What's wrong? Ralph asks. Huh?

Oh, nothing, I say, turning back. I'm here as a favor to Luke, actually. He asked me to come today. Ralph, an always happy man with a balding head and small green eyes, mulls that over for a moment. Luke Richards? He asks. Yep.

Something passes over Ralph's face, but I can't place it. What's up? I ask him. What? Ralph says. The mention of Luke Richards gave you pause, I say. Something going on with him? Ralph shrugs.

No, not that I know of. Maybe you're reading into things. I study him for a moment before agreeing. Yeah, maybe. He should be here. He's here every Sunday, especially since the divorce. I'm saving a seat for him right here, say, batting the stretch of pew to my left. Sounds good, Ralph says with a smile.

Hey, what's what's what you? the window shutters, I ask him. He looks up at the nearest shuttered windows and laughs once. Yeah, pretty intense looking, right? I heard there was a break-in last week after services. Someone stole the collection money, so they put the shutters up to keep it from happening again. They also replaced some of the doors. As Ralph says this, he points a thumb over his shoulder. I follow, looking at the propped open nave doors. Sure enough, they're heavy-duty metal doors. They used to be simple wooden ones. Makes sense, I guess, I say. But why are the shutter still closed and locked? Wouldn't they open them for some sunlight during the service? Ralph shrugs. You'd think so,

he says. Maybe someone forgot. Nine o'clock comes and goes, but Pastor Paul doesn't come out. The crowd sits patiently, waiting for the service to start. People chat quietly. Ralph and I talk a bit about work. I joke around a little with Helen, getting a reluctant smile out of the 16-year-old. Then the sound of the closing nave doors catches my attention. I turned to see Mack shutting the doors. He does something else with them after they're closed. It almost looks like he's locking them, but that can't be right. When he turns around, his eyes flick over to me. When he sees me looking, his eyes bounce away. He doesn't move from in front of the doors. He stands there, looking straight ahead.

Where's Luke? I wonder. My bowels clench like a coiling snake. I ignore the feeling. One of the two doors flanking the stage opens, and Pastor Paul walks out. Cheers go up from a few people in the crowd, which is something that certainly didn't happen when I used to go here. He's a tall man with a straight back,

a head of short and neatly trimmed brown blonde hair and a brown goatee. His eyes are lively. and bright, almost turquoise in color. Paul wears expensive-looking black slacks and a purple dress shirt with a crisp white collar. He wears a gold chain with a cross on it under the collar, like a tie. His black dress shoes are shiny. As he steps up on stage, he smiles, holding up a battered Bible until he stops at the podium. His eyes move over the crowd as he sets the Bible down. They move over me easel, like he's not surprised at the

all to see me here. I don't know why I expected to see surprise on his face. Maybe because I saw it on Max and Susie's and Kenan's. Then I remember Keenan hurrying to the back of the church. Maybe he told Pastor Paul that I was here. But why would he do that? The crowd goes quiet, the cheers fading away as Paul's eyes drag across his congregation. Be strong in the Lord and in the power of his might, he begins without preamble. Put on the whole armor of God, that you might be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers,

against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places. He pauses, sweat already glistening on his forehead. Do you know what that means? He shouts. Are you familiar not with the words from the book of Ephesians, but also with the meaning and the power and the purpose behind them? Tell us!

A woman shouts. We're ready! A man yells out. I wonder why they sound so angry. Not only Pastor Paul, but those who call out too. Their voices are heavy with rage. The mood is tense here. I realize this isn't just another Sunday.

This is a continuation. of something Paul has been discussing for some time. But I also see that not everyone is in on it. Many other people glance around, looking confused or worried. It means, brothers and sisters, Paul says. That the time has come. Amen! A man shouts.

Hallelujah! A woman says. I have been speaking with God a lot lately. Paul continues in a forceful voice. He doesn't use a microphone. He doesn't need one. He has deemed me worthy enough to talk with. And he's told me many, many wonderful things about all of you.

More shouts of affirmation come from the crowd. Well, Paul says, stepping away from the podium. Almost all of you. The crowd goes silent. Paul paces on stage. You see, most of you have Jesus in your hearts and in your souls. Most of you have been willing to give yourself over. over to him, but not all of you.

And that's what God has been talking to me about. He pauses, looking around. He told me that demons have worked their way into my congregation. Hissing and booing come from various sections of the crowd. He told me that if I were to do nothing about it, every single one of you would become infested by the demonic plague, warming its way into this church, this community, this state, and this country. Pained moans erupt.

I look around, seeing that many of the people in the crowd are getting into it. This is certainly much more intense than I remember Pastor Paul being. He told me that the way we've been doing things is no longer enough. He told me that I must root out the demons in this room. And he told me how I must do it. I look over at Ralph, who glances back at me, a worried expression on his face. Has he ever told me?

I've talked about demons in the congregation before. I whisper. Ralph just shakes his head. You've all seen it! Paul shouts, pacing on the stage once again. Every time you turn on your television, every time you look out your window, every time you get on your phone or your computer,

you are confronted with the tools of Satan. The tools are all around us. They're multiplying every day, and we're quickly becoming outnumbered. And do you know why? Why? Several people shouted once. Because we've been fighting the war all wrong.

We've been doing battle in the hearts and minds of the people. But it's not working. It's not working. And God has had enough. He's had enough, and he's told me that we have to take the fight up a notch. We have to put our foot down and say, No more Satan. We will not fall prey to your trickery.

We've had enough, and we have God on our side. A dozen people are standing now, swaying and shouting and holding their hands up toward the stage, as if absorbing the energy pouring off Pastor Paul. The Bible tells us clearly in Timothy, Paul shouts. It says, Now the spirit speaketh expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart from the faith, giving heed to seducing spirits and doctrines of devil.

Well, I'm here to tell you that the Bible was right, and that the latter times are now. But I need your help. God needs your help. Who's willing to do what it takes to bring about the kingdom of heaven on earth? About half of the crowd is standing now, shouting and convulsing in agreement with Pastor Ball. Most of the rest of us are glancing around at each other, wondering what will come next. Those that stand against us are eight. agents of the devil.

Paul shouts from the stage. Let them not interfere with the Lord's work. Let them not interfere as you bring me the demon posing as Ethan Fortner. He levels his finger at me from the stage. Every head in the place turns to look at me. Lazzang sur-gellied, Puitiont,

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