Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - [BONUS] I Hijack Bodies

Episode Date: August 8, 2026

Dr. NoSleep Premium: patreon.com/drnosleep A neuroscientist discovers a way to enter another person’s mind and experience their life through their eyes. He’s secretly done it to twelve people without consequences—until one of them suddenly dies while he’s connected. Soon, his former subjects begin showing up at his house, convinced they’re him. Writer: Matt Doggett Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The house was quiet. I eased the back door closed, taking my times it was not to make any noise. My palms were sweaty inside the nitral gloves. My pulse throbbed in my neck. I'd done this 11 times before, but the fear was still the same. Only now, a ball of excitement formed in my stomach. I couldn't help but smile under my half-mask as I peered into the kitchen. It was cozy with wood-paneled walls, old-school appliances, and chicken-themed decorations. The smell of 10,000 home-cooked meals permeated the space. My phone bust. Shit!

Jamming my hand into my pocket, I silenced the device and looked up at the ceiling, where I knew the bedroom was. No noise. No movement. Good thing I never set my phone to ring. I looked at the message from Carol. I miss you. Can't wait for you to be home. Four days is a long time.

She ended with a winking, tongue-out emoji. Same here, babe, I sent back. Just another day and a half to go. Love you. Sleep well. I put the phone on silent and moved into the living room, with its fabric, covered furniture, and doilies on all the tables. Framed needlepoint works hung on the walls. Struggling to keep my breathing under control, I tiptoed up the stairs. At the top of the staircase, I dug a small cylindrical spray bottle out of my pocket

before creeping down the hall. I stopped outside the closed bedroom door. I knew it was the master bedroom because I had looked up the floor plan. After a deep breath, I pushed away the thought that kept repeating. I hate this part. Gloved hand on the doorknob,

turn, open. Dark bedroom. The sound of an old man snoring. His wife had died years ago. Children were all grown and gone, living their own lives. Maybe I'll choose one of them next. I thought with a twitch of my lip, I've never done two members of this same family.

The man slept on his back, snoring lightly. I stopped beside the bed and studied him for a moment. The wrinkles, the bulbous nose, the bushy gray eyebrows. My eyes shifted to the nightstand. The eyeglasses there. That was important. I brought the spray bottle up and held it a few inches over his nose and mouth. Three quick sprays, and he inhaled some of the mist before his eyes shot open.

He tried to sit up, but I placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back, keeping him down. He drifted off, his eyes closing. When I was sure he was out, I slipped the backpack off, turned on the table lamp, and got to work. This all started when I was a kid, 11 or 12. I would look out the window of the moving car and see a house I liked, its windows emitting an orange glow, maybe the blue flicker of a TV. And I would wonder about the people in that house. curious what it might be like to live as one of them for just a day.

It wasn't like I had a rough childhood, not at all. I had everything a kid could ask for, but it didn't stop me from fixating on other people's lives, daydreaming about stepping into some stranger's shoes for a day or an evening or even an hour. When I inevitably realized how impossible my fantasy was, a crushing sense of melancholy would settle on me. It often passed quickly,

but the curiosity about other people's lives didn't go anywhere. In fact, it grew stronger as the years passed, and the cycle kept repeating. It wasn't every house that had this effect on me, only the ones that I found appealing. Sometimes for reasons even I couldn't understand. I remember it happening frequently at night. Something about seeing a house closed up against the night, that comforting glow seeping out from inside struck me to my core. I got into cognitive neuroscience, not because I thought I could ever create a device

that would allow me to live someone else's life for a short time. I got into it because I wanted to understand the underlying cause of this strange curiosity I'd never managed to shake or satiate throughout my life. I wanted to delve into human psychology, consciousness, and the biological systems that make them possible. So I did. I walked away from my time in college with a doctorate in cognitive neuroscience, a bachelor's in biomedical engineering, and a beautiful wife named Carol.

I landed a job at a massive medical device company. Carol and I bought a beautiful house on a large plot of land. For a while, when I came home after dark, following a long day at the office, seeing my house there on its hill with the orange light seeping through the windows, all felt right with the world. I would sit in my car at the bottom of the long driveway and look at the house, thinking, that's my house. A wonderful woman waits for me inside, tending to that warm glow.

This is my life. How did I manage to get so lucky? But, as is often the case, the mundanity of life slowly sapped the contentment I felt during that first year. After proving my value at work and generating enough leeway to leave at a decent hour, I started staying late anyway, because I was working on something secret, something that not even Carol knew about, not until it was too late. Get access to the full bonus story, including over 100 more with a seven-day free trial of Dr. No Sleep Premium. Cancel any time. No commitment. Just go to patreon.com slash DR. No Sleep to join.

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