Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - Family Ties | Halloween Special

Episode Date: October 22, 2021

🎧 Be sure to check out the Dr. SCP podcast: https://spoti.fi/3zCFjQc 🎉 Ad-free episodes + bonus episodes: https://www.patreon.com/drnosleep 🎥 YouTube: https://youtube.com/c/DrNoSleep ✅ Advertising Inquiries: [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 #halloween #scarystories #horrorstories #doctornosleep #truescarystories #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Welcome to aboard Via Rai. Embarked and profite. Embarque and celebrate. Rigolet. Publiere. Savoyed. Admire. And profite.

Viarai, the voice that we love. Talk to nicely. Walking when distracted has a way of taking the entire world away. People, buildings, and streets faded from my vision as I mindlessly wandered. I had always been a bit of a walker, I suppose. But not like this. Not like tonight, on Halloween of all nights. My father was in the hospital.

I had learned this for my sister Lillian, as she was the only one who still lived at home. Lillian had been the only one who stayed in touch with us regarding the status of that old crab of a man. The rest of us, me and eight brothers, bailed on him the moment that we could. We had hated him for the longest time, but recently I was starting to come around to him.

He had been nothing but a bastard to me most of my life. But recently, his tune had been changing. Phone calls out of the blue, birthday cards with exceptionally generous checks, even paying for my rather high insurance premium. These were just a few of the things he had been doing in an attempt to make things right. At first, I thought my old man was just trying to lure me home

since Lily was almost at her wits' end with his behavior. But the subject never came up. There had been no hidden agenda, no secret attempts to push me to pursue in his footsteps as an archaeologist. For the first time in my entire life, my father actually cared about me and had taken an interest in what I was doing. In fact, the man rarely spoke about himself. I'm no sucker, okay? I've fallen for dad's tricks plenty of times, but this was different. In truth, it seemed that we were starting to fix things.

until tonight. A single phone call had sent me endlessly walking, and I tried to make sense of what was happening. My old man was hurt, dying, in critical condition? After starting a new chapter in our relationship, now he was going to be taken away from me in the blink of an eye. Eventually, I had lost track of where I was. There were no houses, no road beneath my feet,

nor pavement leading to civilization. I had hardly noticed this, for there was nothing in my sight other than my phone staring at me grimly, threatening to send a message any second. I felt as if I were trying to will it into ringing. Come on, damn you, send me something, anything. There was nothing. No text messages, no voicemails, not even one of those little emoji things. There was just nothing. I silently begged for the magic words to appear. something saying that he wasn't going to die tonight. I had just gotten my father back. I couldn't lose him so soon.

My first mistake had been losing track of where I was, letting the entire world around become nothing more than a blur. Now I was standing in an empty field, grass beneath my feet. It looked as if this place used to be a playground. Where the hell was I? This couldn't be in my neighborhood. Where slides and swing sets should have been was, No, it couldn't be. Still clutching my phone, I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands,

furiously trying to clear whatever crud was in them. Lowering my hands, I couldn't help but gasp at the unmistakable sight of a hospital building right in front of me. Was this a dream? Had I fallen asleep while walking? This could be the only way a hospital, of all things, could spontaneously appear before me. Fog came billowing out of the entrance. The hospital lights illuminated the fog with a strange hue that made me feel afraid. Yes, afraid. Something sinister was in there. This was a nightmare building, a strange place of terror. I can't say why I knew this, but every part of my being was screaming to run, to flee for my life before something terrible killed me. And I almost followed such valuable advice, but as I began to turn on my heels. A sin.

single voice cried out from within the hospital. It was a pained, weak voice, a whisper gliding across the shadow of death. The voice belonged to my father. All thoughts of fleeing vanished, as I heard the old man cry out once more before a terrible noise came from the hospital entrance. A shriek, perhaps belonging to a woman, came from within. The sound was not alarmed, fearful or even worried. It was a hungry, ravenous cry. It was looking for something or someone. The blur between dream and reality faded as I heedlessly ran towards the front doors. My father was in trouble, for some horrible thing was praying upon him. I had to help him. I had to get my father back before I lost him for good.

My body cried out in anxious anguish as it demanded that I ceased pushing my way through the double doors, but I ignored the warnings. I barreled through the door's metal hinges. This sharp creek echoed eternally throughout the interior of the building. Whoa! This strange place was a hospital, though everything about it felt wrong. The faded white walls were weeping out blood, the glowing red streams of life force perpetually flowing.

The ground was made of pure, smooth steel, and above I could feel a frigid wind pouring from the air vents. The icy fingers of the frost enveloped me, and, for a moment, I thought I might die from the shock of encountering sub-zero temperatures. Something shrieked, the voice coming from behind me. I spun around just in time the dodges slashed to my head.

Standing before me was some hideous caricature of the grim reaper, complete with the skeletal body and the scythe. His bones were gnarled and warped, hideously misshapen, and bent in grotesque ways. A dark green power swirled within his curled and carved rib gauge, trying to entrance me. I could feel the urge to just give up, to just go home. No! I shouted, my thoughts snapping out of the trance. The Reaper said nothing. It merely drifted high in the air, its cloak flowing in the frigid winds. A long, bony finger pointed towards the exit doors. Another cry for help came drifting down from the now open elevator, this time a little

louder. The Grim Spector wanted me to leave. Its mission was official business, and I got the impression I wasn't meant to be here. Could it even hurt me? What if the Grim Reaper wasn't allowed to actually kill me. A hard call to make, but my father was dying, and I had to chance it. I made a half step towards the door, causing the hovering grim reaper to relax its hand. Suddenly, I spun on a heel, sprinting away from this avatar of death. It led out a wild, howling shriek that bounced off the walls and corners surrounding me. The sound tore through my entire body, sending overwhelming terror into my heart. Go back, go back. This creature emitted to my mind, sending me reeling from the pure transmission of terror.

My body pleaded to give up and just collapse, but I kept focus on the open elevator ahead of me. It was only seconds after I had jumped through the elevator doors that I realized there was no elevator. Where did it go? As I sailed through the air, the infinite blackness waiting to swallow me began to glow with a green light.

I crashed into the wall of the elevator shaft and scrambled to get hold of something, anything. Got it! My hands found too. two sturdy electric cables, securing me against a smooth wall. The elevator shaft was missing any kind of ladder or infrastructure that would let me climb. There was no other way up other than the elevator platforms. As I tried to figure out a way to start my ascent, one of the cables began to groan.

Oh, come on! I shouted as both lines loosened considerably. Within seconds, I was plummeting straight towards the grasping, whispering hands below. Stay... They called to me. Their voices soothing and gentle. as if I could be lured in with a soft tone. The cables had broken free, but not from the ceiling as I had thought.

Instead, my weight had broken the mount that was securing them against the wall. A lucky break. I scraped my feet against the wall to slow my ascent, and then swung a few times towards the doorside to build momentum. I was no acrobat, and my jump across had been poorly executed. I had built up too much speed, and releasing the cable sent me flying towards my destination. My face smashed hard against the steel door.

crushing my nose with a sickening crunch. Blood filled my mouth and ran down my throat as gravity began to seize hold of me. I was sliding. I realized, for only one foot had managed to land atop the elevator ridge. I tried in vain to recover my balance, but time was precious. I had a choice to make, drop down intentionally, or fall to my doom. There was no winning this fight against gravity, not when my head was spinning like this. I dropped, hacking and wheezing as I spat out the blood from my injuries.

My stomach was filling with body fluid. My nose had been smashed so hard, there were no openings for the blood to go, forcing it to pour down my throat. My hands caught hold of the ledge directly below. The rest of me descended, straining to hold on for dear life as gravity tested the limits of my strength. A pop in my left arm sent even more agony through my body, but still I was able to hold on.

Legs dangling inches above the endless sea of whispering hands. I strained with all my might to bring my knees up, but it wasn't enough. Three hands seized my left leg and began to drag me down. As their fingernails dug deep into my ankles, I could feel intense images begin to burn within my mind. Pictures and scenes of my childhood and my father came flooding back in an instant. No scene was flattering. No word he spoke was kind. Things were smashed around me.

Accusations hurled as he ranted and raved about some minor inconvenience. His words manifested in my ears, screaming hatred and blind rage, all of them accusing me, all of them blaming me. As my father shouted, scorpions began to crawl up my legs, stinging me over and over. Skittering and pointy little legs caused my skin to crawl. As they made their way up my back and arms, their loud frog-like croaking, drowning up my cries of agonement.

cries of agony and pain. The temptation to just thaw was immense. The physical pain and revulsion at his cruel and careless words, spoken to a mere child, made a compelling case for letting go. Something urged me to give up, but I could not. I would not. Things would not end like this. He was changing. He would change. Summoning every last ounce of strength I had, I was able to pull myself free of the grasping hands. In an instant, the entity was gone. There was no way I'd be able to pull my whole body up, so once again, I made a controlled drop to the next level. Falling had been easy, but the landing was another story. My ankles shattered as I landed.

Thankfully, the elevator door dinged as it slid open, allowing me to tumble forward in the process. I fell into some unknown lobby, blood still filling my throat. I hacked and weezed, coughing up red everywhere. Gasping for air, I hobbled to my feet and began to search for my father. I couldn't think of my wounds. I had to keep moving. Rushing forward in a painful combination of staggering and running, I felt my shoulder strike something solid. A door! I grabbed hold of the handle with shaking hands and wrenched it open with no thought of what was ahead or behind. Exhaustion began to press down on me as I staggered

inside. My desire to save my father impeded by my very physical body. The only thing I could do was slammed the door behind me. I fell to my knees, spitting globs of blood and teeth that had become too loose to keep. Sweat poured down my body, despite the eternal cold that was only growing deadlier by the second. Still, I had to keep moving forward, wiping the blood and stinging sweat from my eyes. I realized that I was now in a stairwell. My heart leapt at the sight, for I could hear my father's voice much more clearly now. He was at the top of the stairs, probably in a room right by the exit. But my body could not go any further. I begged and pleaded with my legs to stand, but they did not listen. The venom from the thousands of stings had numbed just about everything

below my heart. The spirit was begging to save the old man, but my body? Wait, what was I doing? My body was asleep, or back in Rhode Island. This place was real, that I knew in my core. But how could it be physical? It made no sense. If this was all some kind of dream, or spirit world. At once, I found myself able to stand. My wounds remained, but could no longer hold me back. I can stand? That means I can run! And so I did. Charging up the stairs with no physical bonds made me light as a feather. I bounded up each step, almost giddy from the elation of this newfound freedom. My head was growing lighter and lighter, but so was the rest of me. After a point, I no longer needed to walk or run. My legs had ceased touching the ground.

as I instinctively began to fly. There was no physical sensation to my motions or actions anymore, and I was starting to understand. This whole place was not about action, but intent. My resolve began to strengthen with this realization, for my intentions were pure. I just wanted to get a chance to know my real father. The determination surging through my body had empowered my flight,

and I no longer worried about the floor beneath me. Nothing could stop me from ascending higher and higher. Soon I would be reunited with my father, and then I'd finally get what he has denied me for so long, a chance to just talk with him, no screaming, no shouting, no pretences. This was what I had always dreamed of. A light from above began to shine, causing a great sense of peace to wash over me. Everything was going to work out okay. My right hand began to throb violently as I made it to the door at the very top.

nowhere else to go but forward. My throbbing hand caused me to shake, but I ignored the sensation and pressed on. Stay out, stay out, stay out. The entire building seemed to cry as it shook itself in a desperate bid to stop me, but nothing could separate me from my father. A great flash of light greeted me as I passed through the door. The sounds of rhythmic beeping greeted me. I was in my father's hospital room, and there he was, alive, but something was wrong.

He was unmistakably my father, but he was so much younger than me. In fact, he looked no different than the last time I had seen him face to face. Thirty years ago, the old man had somehow become new again. Was he dead? Was I too late? Finally, my father grunted, pointing a finger right toward me. See? He shouted to no one.

I choose him in my stead. A terrible, he'd he'd he'd. a sensation of wicked glee washed across the room, a feeling so sinister that it shook me to my core. The world around me was writhing, twisting, and contorting as a red haze descended on us. For a moment, everything was silent. And then, the shadows all around me came to life at once. They lunged at me as I screamed, plunging my world into darkness. I thrashed and fought against this sinister thing, but it was too late. My hand was beginning to buzz so hard. I thought it would snap.

Wait? Buzzing? I suddenly woke up gasping for air, my heart pounding like a jackhammer. The buzzing had belonged to no spiritual force. It was just the phone clasped in my hand. I must have passed out on the side of the road. My father! Memories came back, and I immediately lifted the phone to my eyes.

My ankles were beginning to burn, and a terrible pain stabbed at my chest, but I merely ignored those feelings. I just needed to know what the text said. My jaw dropped and I gasped in horror. I tried desperately to call 911 for help, but I was too weak. Shadow Hands reached up from the ground and seized hold of me, crushing what remaining life I had left.

Before the darkness took hold of me forever, I read the words just one more time. It's a miracle. Dad made a full recovery. Lazzang sur-goled, Pucance-molyne for 15 minutes. We'd say that's their dojo. Pre to play a joy. Vive the pleasure

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