Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - Hunted by Hell

Episode Date: August 1, 2025

Four desperate fugitives escape a hellish prison only to find themselves hunted through a nightmare landscape, where sanity shatters, bodies break, and the only way out may demand the ultimate betrayal. Author: Jake Bible * * * CONTENT DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content not limited to intense themes, strong language, and depictions of violence intended for adults. Parental guidance is strongly advised for children under the age of 17. Listener discretion is advised.  #drnosleep #scarystories #horrorstories #doctornosleep #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

We gotta keep moving. I hiss, yanking on Lester's wrist. Pick up your down feet and move. Leave him alone, Cash. Ralph snaps. He can't move as fast as we can. Should have left him back there. Demi adds to the conversation.

As the four of us stand in a deep drainage ditch, our eyes level with the road, scanning for pursuers while Lester catches his breath. We know they're out there. The bastards have been on our asses ever since we slipped free of the pit. The pit. A prison so foul that one of the most dangerous killers humanity has ever seen has been reduced to a drooling, snuffling fool.

I glance at Lester and shake my head. The man was once one of the greats. Smell something, Luster mumbles. Not good. Almost as one. We each take deep breaths. All I smell is rotten eggs, Demi says. Piss. Roth says. Bloodlust. Luster says and stands up straight. putting his head and shoulders while above road level.

Get down! I growl and pull on Lester's arm. The man is 6'4 and has to weigh over 250. He doesn't budge. Yeah, Lester says and swivels his head back toward the way we came. Bloodlust. He sniffs long and deep. Smells good.

Before any of us can do a thing, Lester climbs up out of the ditch and stands in the middle of the road. You idiot, get back here, Demi says. His face red with rage. You're going to get us all caught. They're coming for me. Lester says and holds his arms out to his sides. They're coming for all of us, Lester.

Roth snaps. So get your crazy fucking ass back here. Lester's head swivels again, and he stares at Roth. I'm not crazy. His head swivels back, and he continues staring down the road. I'm just not sane. Big difference. Is there?

Roth asks. Who fucking cares? I half shout. Lester, get your ass in the ditch. We didn't escape just so you can lose your shit and fuck everything up. You listening? Huh? Fucking get back here, Lester.

Hey, dip shit. Demi snarls. You better listen, or? The bang of dogs from far off interrupts Demi, and we all freeze in place. Fuck. Roth says. They're closer than we thought. We have to go.

No shit. Demi replies, then focuses on Lester. Lester. I love you like a fucked up. brother, but we're about to leave your ass if you don't stop acting fucking crazy. Another swivel of the head in Lester smiles at Demi. I told you, I'm not crazy. Lester's body is slammed to the old road's broken pavement so hard that his head bounces once

as a loud crack echoes through the air. From the angle of Lester's neck, he probably won't be doing that creepy swivel thing he does anymore. That neck is now jelly. Then his body is lifted up by the throat and shaken violently back and forth. sending blood spraying in every direction as Lester's jugular is torn open. We can't see them, Roth cries. We can't see them! We don't need any prompting.

The three of us turned tail and race down that drainage ditch as fast as our abused and malnourished legs can carry us. Roth is in the lead, doing more tripping than running. His feet seem to catch every piece of debris in the ditch. Like the little girl's severed head, or the burlap sack filled with something still moving, or the buckets of rotten organs or the boxes of dull, bloody razor blades that seem to be just all over the place.

Demi, right behind Roth, just keeps grabbing and shoving the man, holding Roth up and propelling him forward whenever he stumbles over some new messy nightmare. Growls and barks echo from behind us, but we don't dare turn and look back. Not that it would matter. We can't see them. Roth mutters to himself.

No shit, Demi replies. Nothing we can do about it, so focus on. running. Demi catches Roth as the man trips over a severed leg coated in a sweater of maggots. See, pay attention, dipshit. A single long low note splits the air, and I have to clamp my hands to the side of my head to keep from having my brains liquefy and leak out of my ears. The noise stops us all and forces us to our knees. Roth and Demi have their hands to their ears as well, and their eyes are wide open, filled with agony. Roth glances at it. me then at Demi, he shakes his head over and over.

Then he lets go of his ears, grabs a six-inch nail from out of the muck, and shoves it into his left ear. He screams, or looks like he does since I can't hear shit except for the maddening, excruciating note. Before Demi or I can even react, Roth pulls the nail out and shoves it into his other ear. His entire body relaxes, and he smiles at us. Then he slides the nail out of his ear and offers it to Demi. Are you fucking nuts?

Demi shouts, or looks like he does. Roth shoves the nail a Demi again. When Demi doesn't take it, he offers me the nail. Fuck off! I scream, then try to get back on my feet. I can't. The note has burrowed its way into me, and my muscles cramp and seize as I try to stand.

Collapsing back onto my knees, a shard of glass embeds itself in my right kneecap. I scream again, and my hands instinctively go to the shard, desperate to pull it free. As soon as my hands are away from my head, the pain multiplies by a million. The note slices through my brain matter and mainlines my nervous system, racking me with convulsions.

I'm flat on my back, seizing as I stare up at the murky sky above, when in a blink all I see is Roth's face, filling my vision, blood dripping from his ears, across his cheeks and off his chin to land on my cheek. He straddles me, and I try to buck him off as I steal just enough bandwidth for my mind to concentrate past the maddening note. Then I see the nail in his hand. No! I scream.

Demi is behind him and trying to pull him off, but a sharp elbow to his nose sends Demi out of my view, so that all I see is Roth's grinning bloody face. And the fucking nail in his hand. No! I scream again, but it's too late. The nail presses my left ear, and my screams become supersonic.

But the power and torment from the single note lessens. Considerably. As warm blood pours out of my ear, I stare up at Roth. Then I nod. He smiles wider, slides the nail out of my left ear, nods back at me, then stabs the nail into my right ear. I scream again. There's no way I can hold it in. Then, finally, the single note stops.

All sound stops, really. It's like someone shoved a wool blanket inside my head, which is way better than that damn note. Demi is back and pulling Roth off me, but he doesn't need to. Roth is already trying to stand up on his own. I can see Demi shouting in Roth's face, but I can't hear any of the words. Neither can Roth, I suspect. Slowly, as Demi continues his ranting, Roth glances over at me. I smile and nod.

Demi narrows his eyes and turns his attention on me, but it's too late. I'm already rushing him, grabbing him from behind and pinning his arms to his side. He tries to ram the mess. back of his head into my nose, but I turn my head and take the blow on my left cheek. Demi fights like a wild animal, and I feel his teeth sink into my forearm. Roth takes the opportunity to grab Demi by the hair, and instead of pulling him away from my arm, he shoves Demi harder into it, pinning his face to my flesh. Then Roth slams the nail into Demi's left ear. I back away as Demi's teeth let go, just managing to duck under a roadhouse swing from the man

as he whirls and comes at me, the end of the nail bobbing up and down in his bloody ear. Roth jumps onto his back and grabs him around the neck in a chokehold. Demi tries to shake him off, but I come in and kick Demi on the balls, dropping him to his knees. Roth yanks the nail out of the left ear and slams it into Demi's right. Clutching at his head, Demi rails at us, Spittle flying from his lips as he screams and screams. Then he pauses and frowns. He looks around. before he can look back at us, Roth reaches out and snatches the nail from Demi's ear. Demi whips about and punches Roth between the eyes. I get between them before Demi can do more damage.

Then we stand there, blood dripping from our ears, and stare at each other. I open my mouth to say something, then close it, realizing it's pointless. Demi and Roth both do the same. Then we shrug and start running again, each knowing our only defense against. against what is chasing us is to never stop moving. We've already lost so much time to our self-mutilation, however needed it may have been. We scrabble and scramble through the ditch,

our bodies coated from head to toe in filth. Shit, piss, blood, vomit, bile, matted and burned hair still attached to pieces of scalp, swatches of skin, hunks of intestines. I wonder if we're running through the remains of other escapees, or it could just be the filth of this place. Either way, I spend a good amount of time just trying to keep it out of my mouth as Demi and Roth splashed through the rivulet of an unknown liquid that runs down the center of the ditch,

each footfall spraying putrescence up into the air. Hey, cash! I jolt and look around, losing my footing briefly. My hands slap at the ground, and I wince as a sharp pain of femur embeds itself into my right palm. I managed to keep my feet under me, so I'm still moving as I pull the bone splinter-free. Dark red blood wells up in my palm and I shake it off, adding more of my blood to the garbage at my feet. Between my kneecap, my forearm, my ears, and my palm, plus just my entire body feeling like hammered shit, I'm not in the best shape. So, I can't afford to get distracted by some phantom voice.

I have to keep pushing forward. The voice sings songs in my head. Where you going? I know it's in my head, because my ears sure as fuck can't hear anything right now. Demi glances back at me and frowns. He looks away quickly, focusing again on staying upright in this trench of shit. Is he hearing it too? Or did he see something troubling on my face other than smears of blood and raw sewage?

Don't you worry about Demi, the voice continues. He's not the one that matters. I stumble again but keep my balance. Demi shoots me another look over his shoulder. I nod and gesture for him to keep moving. Up ahead, Roth starts to slow. Not a good idea. The voice says.

He's looking at that girve, thinking about climbing out of the ditch. Why isn't it a good idea? I ask, and my words sound like mumbles drowned in cotton. No need to use that tongue of yours, the voice says. Just think your thoughts, and we'll be able to communicate all fine and dandy. A streak of lightning illuminates the sky, and a glance up at the thing swirling and circling overhead. Those are why.

You climb out of the ditch, and they'll swoop down and snatch you a fast. than a starving man in front of a box of free donuts. What are they? Bad news, Cash, bad news. Roth stops as the ditch curves to the right. He grabs onto a bone sticking out of the dirt wall and begins to climb out of the ditch. Hey!

I shout, forgetting for the moment that shouting is pointless. Demi grabs his legs and pulls him down as I jog up next to them. Roth gives Demi a hard shove, and in half a second, the two are rolling in the putrid sludge. Their fists, pummeling each other about the head and face. Don't wait for them. Keep going. They can fight it out on their own. We escaped together and made a pact. You know where you are, right? How many fucking packs do you think are broken every second of every day around here? Around here? What are you

talking about? We got out. Um, yeah, out of the pit. That's just a prison dip shit. You got a long way to go before you're out of. Pain erupts in my shoulders, and I'm lifted up off the ground. No! I scream as I slap at the scaly legs, whose talons are currently puncturing my flesh. Let me go! I feel my vocal chord strain, but all I hear is a never-ending drone. My words aren't even muffled in my own head anymore.

They're a long-distance buzz that's almost imperceptible now. As I'm carried away, I can see Roth and Demi still fighting below. They're really going at it. Punching in the cloaca. The bitches hate that. What? I don't even know what that is. I reply, very confused.

It's their butt and pussy all in one hole. Don't you know about harpies? Harpies? Why the fuck would I know about harpies? Well, you better learn quick, because when this bitch gets back to her friends, you're going to be torn limb from limb while your flesh is stripped from your bones.

Shit, man, he might not even land to do it. Just rip you apart right here in the sky. Fuck that. Then punch the cloaca. I look up and see the bottom of a hideous bird. Then the neck turns, and a woman's warped and wicked face stares down at me, grinning with the bird's beast.

filled with razor-sharp human teeth. Its grin widens, and it licks its teeth with a narrow, green, hairy tongue. I find the double-duty hole under the tail feathers, and I fucking punch it! I don't want that tongue anywhere near me! The thing lets go so fast that the pain when I collide with the damp earth hits me before I realize I'm even falling. Roll, motherfucker! I don't question the voice, and roll and roll until I'm in open air and falling again.

I slam into the ground and find myself half submerged, and what smells and tastes like rotten tuna fish that's been liquefied and left to ferment in the sun for about six years. Hands grab me and pull me up out of the muck. Demi wipes the gunk from my eyes and forces me to focus on him. Are you okay? He asks, or thinks he does from the way his lips move. I nod, then look past Demi. Roth is face down in the sludge, and he's not moving. When I meet Demi's eyes again, he shrugs, I think he says. rug, and he smiles, patting me on the shoulder. Then he pulls his hand back and looks at it. He grimaces and wipes his hand on his soiled and soaked through shirt. Seeing the disgust on his

face, which is saying something, considering what we're standing in, I turn and inspect my left shoulder. Picture this. It's late at night. You're scrolling, and suddenly you find exactly what you've been looking for. You add it to your cart, maybe browse a little more than head to checkout, only to realize you don't have your wallet. But then you see it, that purple shop pay button. And just like that, you're done in seconds. That's the power of Shopify. It supports millions of businesses and drives 10% of all e-commerce in the U.S. from major brands like Mattel and Jim Shark to entrepreneurs just getting started. With Shopify, everything you need is in one place, from customizable store templates to built-in AI tools that help write product descriptions and enhance your images. It also makes

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streaks that spider web away from each hole. I look up to see Demi's reaction, but he's gone. Better catch up, the voice says. Only one seat left. Seat? What are you talking about? Seed on what? Don't you know? If I fucking knew, I wouldn't have asked.

They always say that. But, I mean, come on, you have to know what's up ahead. How did you plan to escape without knowing what is up ahead? I just got us out of the prison. That was my job. The rest was left up to... I look over at Roth's corpse. Then I look down the ditch in the direction Demi took off running.

Now you're catching on. You see why I said you better catch up. up, Demi knows where you're going and what to do, and he's going to steal your only way out of here. There were four of us escaping. How can there only be one space? Seat. Whatever. Well, son, it looks like you may have been double-crossed, bamboozled, hoodwinked, taken advantage of, screwed over, and just downright cheated. I stand and stare. There's only ever one open seat. That's how it works. Just in case there's a mistake, and someone needs a ride back up top. And Demi is about to get that one open seat. Is that what you want?

But are packed? Oh, fuck your fucking pact. Do you want out of here or not? Yes. Then you better start running. You dumb motherfucker. I run. Catch that bastard, son of a bitch, before he takes what's yours.

I run my ass off. My feet are shredded and scraped by God knows what. And I swear the sides of the ditch are closing in with every step. Shadows fall across me, but I don't look up. If those harpies want a piece of me again, they better keep their legs I know what a fucking cloaca is now. I see the end of the ditch and focus all my attention on that. Except it isn't the end when I reach it, but just another curve.

Far up ahead, Demi is running his ass off too. Screaming curses Adam won't do much good, since he can't hear me. But I scream them anyway. Do you hear that? Loud laughter fills my head. Oh, wait! No, you can't! Really funny.

Hear what? Hellhounds. I trip over a pile of what looked like. punctured eyeballs and land flat on my face in a puddle of, well, I'd rather not say. I shove up onto my hands and knees, coughing and spitting until my mouth is as dry as I can get it. A stink wafts over me, and pain radiates from my shoulders. I stand up and inspect them again. Both shoulders are black and oozing and almost fluorescent orange pus now. The stink is on me. What are you standing around for now, nuts? Run! I get my legs moving again, and in seconds,

I'm running full speed. There we go! That's how you do it? Just run, you stupid fucking fool! Run! Who are you? Doesn't matter. I leap over a half-eaten horse.

When I come down on the other side, my legs are snatched out from under me, and I throw my arms out to break my fall. Instead, I break my arms, both of them, at the shoulders. Oh, that's not good. The voice says as I roll over in the muck, realizing my arms are no longer attached to my body. They've fallen off into the goo and gunk.

Hands claw at my legs, and I have to use every ounce of strength in my core to lean up, even a little. You don't know how much you need arms to sit up until they're gone. Demi is pulling himself along my body. Then I see that he's missing his legs below the knees. He's saying something to me, but he's talking so fast I can't read his lips. Also, he has so much blood and piss and shit and muck caked around his mouth that every word looks the same anyway. Terror fills me as I realize that I can't do shit. I can't push him off me or even try to crawl away.

When he gets up to my torso, resting his chest against mine, he looks at my shoulders, looks me in the eye, then holds up his hands. I shake my head. He rolls his eyes and shows me his hands again. He'll be the hands and you'll be the legs, the voice says and sounds disappointed. So he's not trying to double-cross me. I say a nodded Demi.

That's great. Is it? There's only one seat, remember? and they don't allow lapis. They don't allow what? Lapis. What the fuck is lapis? What the fuck do you think it is?

When someone sits on your lap dip shit. Oh, I've never heard of. Demi punches me in the chest to get my attention. Sorry. I mouth and nodded him. He falls off of me and helps me roll over onto my belly. Then he gets under me and helps me get to my knees. Once I stagger up onto my feet,

I move to the side of the ditch and lean my forehead against the dirt wall. Then Demi climbs up my legs and back and wraps his arms around my neck, using his thighs to grip my waist. Do you have any idea how stupid you two look right now? So fucking what? We're getting out of here. Unholy shit, you stupid human fucking moron! How many times do I have to tell you there's only one seat?

I still don't know what this seat shit means. And you're a random voice in my head, so I'm going to take everything you tell me with a grain of salt. Not the worst idea you've had. But now isn't the time to get picky about which voice in your head you'd listen to. You're the only voice in my head. Then it's an easy decision, so shut the fuck up and listen. I try to run, but Demi is too heavy, so I can only manage a meager jog slash fast walk. The shadows from above get bigger, and I look up to see the flock of harpies circling directly

above the ditch. Shit, they're going to grab me again. Not you. What? Oh, right. Demi's fingers scratch and claw at my collarbones, trying to get purchase as he's lifted up off my back. The sudden weight change almost sends me falling on my face for the ten millionth time, but I keep my balance and manage to stay on my feet. Tell Demi about the cloaca! I shout in my head. Me? I can't talk to him.

He's not my horse. I let that sink in as I keep running. Horse? What does that mean? I ask. Hmm? You said he wasn't your horse. What does that mean?

He's not my horse. It's self-explanatory. And because he's not your horse, you can't get inside his head. Oh, I could, but I'd be disqualified. I slow, then stop. Hey, what are you doing? Keep running. I put my hands on my hips if my arms hadn't fallen off. Who are you? I ask.

What? Who? Me? Yeah, you. I'm just a voice trying to help you reach the goal. Don't you mean my goal? Because my goal is to escape this nightmare and get back above. Yeah, that's not the goal. I had a feeling. Can you stop having feelings and keep running?

You can't hear them, but the hellhounds are so close. They're almost within ass sniffing distance. And you do not want a hellhound sniffing your ass. I'm not going anywhere until you tell me who you are and why you're in my head. Do you want to be torn apart? When I had arms, I would have said no. But now there's so much less of me that it doesn't seem so awful. Do you think that's funny?

A little. It sighs. The voice actually sighs in my head. You aren't going to let this go, are you? No. The fucking hounds can do whatever they want to me. I'm not budging. If I promise to tell you, will you get moving again? Sure, but if I'm not happy with what you say, I'll stop and sit my ass down in this shit. Deal, run. I run. Talk. Just keep running. You need to get around this bend in the ditch first.

I'll fucking stop right here and... Just keep running. I'm going to tell you everything. You won't remember, but I'll tell you. What does that mean? If you could remember, you'd know. You're a fucking asshole. Oh, I'm way worse than that, but thank you.

I take the curve and almost cry when I see the end of the ditch. Literally the end. The ditch floor starts to slope upward, and the sides get lower and lower and lower until I'm suddenly above ground and running across a barren plane covered in a thick, yellow mist that hangs only a foot off the ground. The rotten egg smell the mist gives off is horrendous.

But better than how the ditch smelled, I will say that. Talk, damn it, I order. Sure, sure. We're in the home stretch now. Home stretch of what? You see that thin blue line way way off there? Yeah, kind of. That sticks. The 70s rock group?

My dad listened to them while he tortured those girls he'd catch and bring home. Okay, that's an interesting tidbit. But no, not the 70s rock group. It's the river. The river what? The river Sticks. I don't know what that is. Stitz!

The river that separates the underworld, Hades, hell, whatever you want to call it, from Earth. You can't get out of hell unless you ride the ferry across the river sticks. Everyone knows that. What they teach you in school? I was taught out of skin a toddler in under ten minutes. That's so. Hom schooled.

Obviously. I keep running. Nothing else to do on a business. barren plane. I focus my eyes on the far-off thin blue line and scrape at some deep reserves of energy. I need to go faster. The problem being running fast with no arms isn't easy. My balance is all off. Why am I your horse? Oh, that? You still want to talk about that? We had a deal. Yeah, well, you know what they say. What? Seriously? What do they say? Deals were made to be broken. Another sigh.

Fucking hell! Why are you always so stupid? Always? What does that mean? What does that mean? What does that mean? What does that mean? It sighs even louder. Sorry, not your fault. I picked you, not the other way around. Thank you? I guess. Okay. Cards on the table. It takes a deep breath. You have escaped the pit 847 times.

Not counting the one time you almost escaped, but ended up tripping and impaling your skull in a discarded pogo stick. We got a do-over on that one. I had to argue with the race organizers for like half a millennium, but they came around. I don't understand. Which is why you were picked for your stamina and perseverance, and not your brains. Not to be judging, but homeschooling didn't do you any favors in the smarts department. I stumble and come close to biffing it once more, but I do a little stutter step dance and stay upright. Keep talking. Do I have to? It really doesn't matter what I tell you. You'll just reset at the end and we'll start this all over for the next race. So what? This is all just a game?

Yep. For us, not you. For you, it's hell because that's the point. Run you and your buddies relentlessly for eternity while we place bets on your sorry asses. I have half a Toledo on the line with you. You have no clue how many sinners there are in Toledo. And that's just if you make it across the planes. If you actually get it on the ferry? Oh fuck man, I get all of Tulsa too. You're a demon. I should have known. Who else would I be talking to while running from the most secure prison in hell? The most secure prison that I was able to escape from, with three others. Doesn't feel so secure. I can tell from the lessening of the stupid in your brain that you're

working it out on your own. Good for you. Now, take all that mental effort and put it in your legs. Run, you sorry, son of a bitch! Run! It says it like I have any other choice. I'm more than halfway across the plains, and the thin blue line is not so thin anymore. I even think I can see a long, wide dock. Ah, fuck. What? I ask. You came close, Cash. You came so close. What? I'm still running. Not for long. Why not? Yeah, you can't hear them. The hellhounds are literally on your heels.

Well, Cash, I didn't get any bonuses. But you made it the farthest. Good on you, you little homicidal Nepo baby you. Talk to you in the next race. Next race? I'm still running this. Jaws clamped down on the back of my neck, and I have exactly one second to think.

Well, this fucking sucks. I shouted Roth. Pick up your damn feet and move. I am cash. Roth snaps. But Demi is fucking it all up. Screw you, I'm going as fast as I can. Demi yells as the four of us race through a deep drainage ditch.

our heads constantly looking back, scanning for pursuers. We know they're out there. The bastards have been on our asses ever since we slipped free of the pit. The pit. A prison so foul that none of us could stay in it a minute longer. And that's saying something, since I lived in an outhouse for two weeks once. Well, my dad put me there. But it was for my own good in the end.

Move, Buster says, and shoves me out of the way. He forces his bulk, past Roth and reaches Demi. Then he grabs Demi by the back of the neck, snaps it, and tosses the man's body to the side. He should have run faster, Lester says and picks up speed. I barely glanced at Demi's corpse as I sprint by. Do you hear that? I ask. The hellhounds? Yeah. Roth replies.

No, the laughing. It's like someone is in my head laughing their ass off. I can't hear what's in your fucking head. Roth shouts, then puts on a burst of speed, trying to pass Lester. I give my head a shake and ignore the quiet, laughter as I focus on keeping up with Roth and Lester. No one wants to be left behind while trying to escape hell.