Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - In 1975, I filmed a disturbing documentary at a military facility in the USSR

Episode Date: December 27, 2021

🎧 Check out my new podcast called The SCP Experience by searching it in the search bar. Author: Alan Wilson 🎉 Ad-free episodes + bonus episodes: https://www.patreon.com/drnosleep 🎥 YouTube: https://youtube.com/c/DrNoSleep ✅ Send all advertising inquiries to: [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 #scarystories #horrorstories #doctornosleep #truescarystories #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Talk to nice sleep. Hey, guys, be sure to check out my new podcast called The SCP Experience for more interesting stories. It's 100% inspired by the SCP Foundation. If you'd like to check it out, just search the SCP Experience in the search bar on Spotify or Apple Podcasts. Now time for the story. In 1975, I had to film a documentary at a military facility in the USSR. The videotapes contained disturbing footage. Everyone had stories about that military base in my hometown in the USSR back in the day.

The town's folks said it was some sort of Soviet Area 51, but way darker, and it hid even more secrets than its American counterpart. I was 25 years old at the time, and it just started working at the local newspaper. I was eager to hunt for the next big headline. But unfortunately, everything was state-owned and state-controlled. It was impossible to do things on your own. If the state authorities would find out you had done something without their knowledge, it meant jail. Or worse, depending on the severity of the situation.

That is why I had always tried to play it smart. Things went way smoother if you were an obedient soldier and servant to the common. Communist Party. Soon after, I left my job at the newspaper and took on a different path in television. I was assigned to shoot documentaries about how great the nation and its leaders were. After a few successful documentaries, I had received orders to film a new documentary at a military facility in Siberia. This situation was beyond odd, and I thought of it. as punishment. But I never did anything wrong, nor did I give the impression I was against the regime. Nevertheless, I was a little scared of this situation because it came without notice,

like an order from superiors I didn't have. I received a letter, letting me know that I had to shoot a documentary at a top-secret military base. I had to document every single, everything and report back as soon as the night ended, 24 hours to do everything. A military truck came to pick me up, but again, no one said anything about where I was going or the true purpose of this trip. You have to film three former Soviet spies during the night. Then, once it ends, you hand over the tapes to me and keep the time. quiet about this for the rest of your life. Did I make myself clear, comrade Alexeyevich? The officer asked me. I nodded and didn't say a word until we arrived. The facility looked abandoned.

A few light bulbs flickered here and there. I don't remember seeing any military personnel on the premises, but I did what the tall and buff officer told me. First, he showed. He showed. He showed me a small wooden cabin where I had to stay until the morning. Then he led me to three different rooms where I had to install the equipment. Then he said that the film subjects would arrive at midnight and leave at the crack of dawn. There was only one thing I had to do besides filming. I was not allowed to speak to the subjects or interfere with them or their activities in any way. What happened next left me scarred for life.

And I need to write this here so that everyone would know the truth about Operation Dark Sleep. The events happened two hours apart, so I split them into three separate posts. The three tapes were a living hell to watch and experience. I could almost smell the burning wood aroma in the room, but on the screen, it looked like any other room in those times. empty, lonely, and waiting for a visitor to pop in and spend a night on its not-so-comfortable bed. The wood in the fireplace burned brightly.

Shadows danced on the walls, slow and gracious, as if in a ballet contest. The shadowy silhouettes formed were of various sizes and shapes. Some were thin and long, others large and small. But they complimented each other so well. There was a book and a small bottle of water on the nightstand. The TV in the corner ran idly, showing some politician giving a speech in a crowded square. People waved flags and cheered,

almost like they were programmed to do that. They were just too afraid to act differently. The only thing that seemed out of place, The place was a spiral painted. The paint was still fresh, and it dripped slowly but steadily down. I couldn't tell the color because the image was black and white. I noticed the door opening slowly, and a haggard man came inside. He seemed lost and scared.

He looked around the room, seemingly having no idea where he was or what he was about supposed to be doing there. Dressed like a prisoner, he wore gray and white striped pajamas and walked barefooted. He shut the door behind him, then began inspecting it. I noticed the key was still in the lock, and I didn't know if that was intentional or not. The man saw it too. He gently touched the key, caressed it, and said something. I couldn't make it. I couldn't make out the words, but he looked ejected. He turned the key and locked the door. Then he opened his mouth, rolled his tongue out, and placed the key on it, and swallowed it. He placed his head against the old wooden door, and I could see tears streaming down his face. I asked myself why he did

that. Then I realized that the officer probably kept many things from me. Secrets never meant to be revealed to the man who filmed this so-called documentary. He had a bag in his hand. He then emptied all of its contents on the floor, a hunting knife, and a loaf of bread scattered on the ground. He then placed his hands on his hips, looked at the ceiling, and began dancing around like he was doing a ritual to invoke a forgotten ancient god. He stopped suddenly and grabbed the bread.

He glued his face onto the camera screen. Then he began laughing as he stuffed pieces of bread in his mouth, almost with a superhuman speed. After eating the bread, he looked at the spiral as if it bewitched him. He touched it, rubbed his hands against the paint, then splashed some on his face. Then he got in bed, tucked himself in, and turned to face the wall. He drifted away to sleep, and I hoped that he had a dream that brought some sense of joy,

even if it would have been short-lived. He tossed and turned for a few minutes, and then lay motionless under the blanket's comfort. The man deserved to rest for a few hours. But just a few minutes, After that, everything started to change in that bleak room. And with those changes, my life would change too. The light in the room began flickering, and the image on the TV turned to static. The fire died down instantly, as if killed with surgical precision by an uninvited guest. Then it all went black, and I couldn't make out anything in the darkness. The signal got scrambled for a minute or two, and I had the impression that the equipment broke down.

The darkness brought an awful grave-like silence with it. My gut kept telling and warning me that I should not have accepted this job. Things would get worse, and I would lose my sanity to the events that would happen. But those were superseded by what followed. That scream in the dark was something that I would never forget. There's nothing I could have done. There is no way you can disobey or refuse the party's orders. I thought as if having an internal conversation with myself. They did all seem to be coming back to normal.

The lights turned on again and the TV too. The transmission was still static, but at least it was something. My heart started blasting against my chest when I saw the man was not in the room anymore. He had vanished into the ether. The sense of logic dictated that it could not have been possible for such a thing to happen. More so, it was downright impossible for the man to even get out of the room after he had swallowed the key. Sure, he could have broken the door down in a fit of anger and adrenaline rush, but the old door was still intact.

Dark thoughts invaded my mind as if a violent flood had destroyed, an impenetrable dam. Those thoughts brought them with debris that shattered and broke against my psyche, and its shrilling sound was so haunting and deceiving. The event had distorted my reality, and I didn't understand to any extent what was going on. I had a lot of questions, and there were many things that I didn't understand. They said I should not leave the room, And so, the fear of disobeying the party outgrew my sense of wanting to help the man who went missing in a locked room. I had to stay inside and wait for morning to come and prayed that I would get back home safe and sound. After those thoughts left my mind, I looked at the screen again.

Now, something odd was going on with the image on the TV screen. It looked like the static was now in a sort of liquid state. I looked at it carefully, trying to see what had caused this anomaly. Then the image started spilling from the screen and onto the ground in the blink of an eye. A puddle of static now laid on the ground like a giant amoeba made from black and white dots. Then it slurried to the center of a room and the liquid started rising in the air. It was as if it was climbing an invisible stare that led to an unknown destination. The static puddle took the form of a human being.

It had arms, legs, torso, and a head. This is impossible! I've lost my mind! I screamed. Yet, nothing had changed. The static creature was still there, and it looked straight into the camera as if watching me, watching it. It broke the gaze and looked around the room, like an alien in a new world, a new planet. It inspected the surroundings and picked up the knife. The static creature cut its left arm off.

It fell on the floor, and another puddle of static appeared. Then that one rose, and another beast made of static came alive. That one took the knife, cut its arm off, and repeated the process. There were three static creatures in that room right now walking around, still getting used to the surroundings. They started watching the TV, but the screen was black. Finally, one of them pressed a button and turned it on. And I saw the man in the room trapped inside that TV. He smashed his fists against the glass.

He screamed, but it was to no avail. He was trapped in their world now, the world of static creatures, and they came to our world and took his place. One creature extended his arms slowly until it went through the TV screen. Then it grabbed the man by the throat and started pulling him violently and repeatedly against the glass. It was like seeing someone going 200 miles per hour against a thick bulletproof glass for some cruel and vile experiment. The creatures came back and stared into the camera again.

Their faces contorted into spirals, and the more I looked at them, the less I knew who or where I was. It will take a while until I get used to being here, but I am free at last, which is all that matters. You, the man behind the screen, I am coming for you.

I know you now. The creature said with a voice that resembled, the buzzing of insects. I jumped out of the chair and moved back against the wall. I saw the creatures crawling inside the camera. They were coming for me. I went back to the screen, instantly killed the feed, took the small TV that I had been watching and smashed it on the ground.

Now they couldn't get me, and I was sure of that. The static creatures were trapped inside that tape forever. The phone rang. It was the officer that had brought me to the facility. overseeing it. You wanted to begin watching the second room, the man said, hanging up the phone. What kind of beings came into this world? Time passed by ever so quickly in that control room. The blizzard screamed outside, and the snowflake seemed like deadly bullets made out of ice. Yet, I still couldn't understand what I had experienced while watching the first tape. I was taken aback

by the fear I felt, and I still couldn't believe what I had witnessed. I thought for a moment, if I should even watch the second tape, but, supernatural events or not, these people hired me to do a job, and whoever that officer was, he sounded impressed. What if it was all a test? And I was the central subject of this experiment. I didn't have an answer to that burning question. All I knew, was that I had to start watching the second tape. It was 2 a.m. One third of the night was gone, but I was sure the following tapes would be even more terrifying. The second room was so much more different than the first one. Although it looked like a study room, it had a large mahogany work

desk with old pencils and a small library behind it. The books seemed ancient and were bound in leather. They were rather odd, not like anything I had seen before. I had an urge to go inside that room and see what secrets those tomes held. What would they reveal once opened? A set of horrifying pictures adorned the walls. They depicted fantastic creatures and beasts with large tails and teeth and horns. Some even resembled demons with twisted, sickly face. They looked hungry and eager to jump out of the frame and into our world.

I cringed at that thought, but nothing seemed impossible anymore after what I had seen earlier. This room didn't have a TV, and a sense of relief came over me. At least the static creatures would not make an appearance in this room, or so I hoped. A man entered the room. He was tall, thin, and he wore a lab coat. Worry and anguish were consuming his face. He had one of those faces that always bore a certain sadness and sorrow. The man looked very tired as well, so tired that he could barely stay awake.

His eyes constantly spun in his head. Maybe his body warned him that he was about to faint or die from exhaustion. He walked around the room. for a second, like he didn't know why he was there in the first place. Then, he stopped and looked at the old books on the shelves. He gently caressed them, running his fingers above the books, and then picked one out. He pulled the chair and sat at the desk, turning the pages one by one in a frenzy. It felt like he had a quest, a task, or a goal that needed to find something soon. I felt anxious and scared because my gut told me something terrible was about to happen.

The man started tearing pages from the book, screaming in terror and throwing them around. Finally, he smashed a book against a wall, and one of the paintings fell on the floor. He repeated the process with another book. One rather peculiar thing was that he didn't seem to notice the camera recording him. Instead, he was so focused on his task that he ignored his surroundings. There was a slight distortion that scrambled the feet again. I jumped from my chair, knowing it could be the static creatures. Luckily, that wasn't the case.

Even if it was just for a moment, I could see something had changed in the man's demeanor, and the way he moved and acted. He looked like he was aging rapid. as the seconds passed. He finally laid his head on his fists, and I imagined he fell asleep from exhaustion. The signal scrambled again, and a loud, shrieking noise rattled my ear-dress.

In the lines of the distorted image, human faces were screaming in anguish. Their faces were contorted with pain, and fear as if tormented by the greatest evil in the world. Some screamed for help, and others wanted it all to all to do that. Others wanted it all to end so they could die once and for all, to escape this endless, hellish nightmare. Their voices cracked the very fabric of my mind and engulfed my heart with the darkest flames of despair.

It was so hard hearing those people scream like that. The cacophony of voices and screams were unbearable to the ears. I covered them with my hands and hoped it would all go away, just like the same. the last spark of a fire coming to an end on a long winter night. Soon after that, the faces disappeared, all but one. We have been here. We wait. Wait for it all to end. We are the outcast, the unwanted, the pariah, the discarded children of a long and forgotten world. They all need to die, those who used us for their vile and cruel experiments, the voice of the face said.

The screen was all white, except for the contour of the face. So I couldn't make out if the person was male or female. All I knew was that I had to keep listening. That was what my gut was telling me, I whispered. Look, we will show you they are and who we are. are, what they have done to us. He is the last one, and he needs to die. He needs to join the rest of us, the voice said hoarsely. He needs to die. The screen faded to black. It was like someone who possessed a universal remote control had turned off the feed in that room. It only lasted for a mere fraction of a

second, and then it came back. But everything changed. The room, as I saw it the first time, morphed entirely into something else. The pictures on the walls were those of well-dressed men and women wearing suits and ties and expensive dresses. They struck me as highly influential people in power who lived in days long past. Maybe they were people who worked there at the military base. It's bored of administration, perhaps. The tired old man was still sleeping. He had his head placed against his fists, as if he was angry that he didn't make it awake until the end. I noticed his arm twitching. The haggard man was slowly waking up. Then he started screaming and flailed his arms around in a frantic manner. No, no, no, no, they were coming. He should

shouted, and indeed, they appeared. Out of nowhere, people wearing white hospital gowns were inside the room. The man rose from his seat and collapsed on the floor. He stood on his knees, begging them to leave him alone. Women, men, and children alike kept staring at him while he implored. Then they all looked at the camera and tilted their heads to the right. See what he has done to us? They all said.

tormented voices struck my heart like a hammer made of hot burning coal. Now the image had begun rewinding as if going back through time. The man was young now, standing upright with a notebook in one hand and a syringe filled with a thick, gooey liquid in the other. He laughed at a patient who stood before him. The patient was terrified beyond repair, and he begged for the man to leave him alone, to not stick that needle into his temple. So this man was conducting some secret experiments on his patients. So many questions arose from the story that was just unfolding before my very eyes. Was part of the hospital a psychiatric wing?

If so, what kind of experiments did they conduct there? Why was I chosen to film this? What was my purpose here? Dr. Demented. That's how I called him after seeing how he mocked that poor patient, had some guards come inside. He ordered them to strap the man to the table. As the patient tossed and turned, screamed, and begged,

the guards had no sense of emotion whatsoever. They did what they were told, just like mindless robots. After the man was locked in securely, the doctor slowly pressed the needle against his temple. I imagined the pain to be immense and significant. The needle was approximately six inches long. The patient squirmed about, and he was shaking so badly that I thought the table he stood on would break.

But instead, he clenched his fists and foamed at the mouth. He screamed, and his eyes turned red. In just a split second, tears of blood poured down his cheeks and pulled on the pillow. giving a grotesque image of a torture dying man. His screams of anguish, fear, and pain resembled those of an unholy doomsday symphony of the dead. The man stopped convulsing. His eyes exploded, blood and sinew stained the doctor's lab coat. The patient's face was now a bloody disaster. The doctor looked disgusted.

Pathetic. Bring in the next one. the doctor said, motioning the guards to the door. A woman entered the room, frightened and lost. Then the transmission cut off and went back to the people and the doctor. See what he did to us. He needs to die. They all said. Then I noticed the man and the woman from the transmission.

They were in the room, and at that point, I knew what they all were. I saw them swarming the doctor. He fought them off for maybe two seconds. Then, finally, all that remained of him was his skeleton. No skin, no flesh, nothing. Just the bones. In a way, the dead did themselves justice.

They killed their oppressor, and they killed their killer. Now he was one of them. He joined them, exactly like the voice on the screen said. Now they all stood watching the camera. They were motionless, and the doctor seemed to have a hard time watching his own skeleton and getting a hold of this new life, a new life after death. Do no harm, and no harm shall be done unto thee. Transmission over.

The phone rang. It was the officer. For this for so long. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Now we shall move to our last subject. The man in the glass cage. Let's see how it goes. Talk soon.

He said and hung up the phone. These things should not have happened. I sat down on the chair and still couldn't believe any of it. I began fearing for my life. The last camera was about to be turned on, and I knew I had to expect something downright evil to happen. Uneased and afraid, I turned on the third and final monitor.

The transmission for this one was in color. The colors were so bright and vibrant, unlike anything I had seen before in my life. The transmission revealed a one. white padded room with thick walls. There was a glass cage in its center. A man dressed in a bright electric blue suit was just waking up. He wore golden cufflinks, a tie, and black shiny leather shoes. He sat on the side of the small bed and interlocked his fingers. He played with his thumbs, and I could feel something troublesome about him.

I have been waiting for you, you, the watcher, the man said, slowly raising his head. He stood upright, and as he turned his sight to the camera in the room, I could see a wave of deep-seated anger and hate in his eyes. His eyes were colored a deep brown hue, almost like a puddle of volcanic mud. I could see tiny sparks cracking inside his eyes as if he tried. wrapped a whole storm inside them. You are here at last, come for so long. It is my utmost pleasure to know you are here, said the overly dressed man while he waved at the camera.

If you speak, I can hear you. I thought it would be impossible. But the more these events happened, the more possible they seemed. Uh, hello there, I guess. Who are you? I said reluctantly. I asked myself how this man could have heard me.

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Veye to be in a responsibility lovely. Who am I is not important. I can be whoever I want to be. What I am, though? That's the important question. I am what they would call a soul eater.

I eat the souls of those who did evil in this world, the man said, playing with the cufflink on his left sleeve. What do you mean? I replied. Let me show you a quick demonstration. The man with a fancy suit said, right before my eyes, he started contorting. Finally, I heard his bones cracking, the sound, giving me a horrible,

headache. What? And voila, a new man, he shouted. A completely different man now stood in that cage. My mouth was agape, and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. This new man was still twitching his mouth and eyes, and he had all kinds of ticks. It was as if he was just getting used to a new body. Help me, please. The man said with a completely new voice. It was like a battle between two souls. You stay down there and shut up. You shut up or I will kill you. The voice of the original man said, the fight was over. And I never heard the new man crying for help again. The man right here killed three innocent women on a cold and rainy night in December 35 years ago.

He caused a lot of trouble in his town. Everyone was scared of going out at night. After the police caught him, I'd let me tell you that it took a while. They felt like they were in the presence of a great evil. Maybe the devil even, the man said. So what happened? I asked. That's where I came in. I'm a sort of endless well for people like him.

I have been here for far more time than I can remember. I was reluctant to help at first, but eventually caved in. After that, it was the right thing to do. Do you want to know how many souls I have inside me right now? I'm not sure I do. Almost 44,000, the man exclaimed. Dirty, evil souls. I felt my eyes widening.

As far as I understood, the man was some kind of hunter. Of course, he hunted killers and evil people. but in a sick and twisted way he liked it he loved it want to see another one i think i'm good thank you do you want to hear them all screaming together here listen he said he seemed to take pride in what he was doing but of course to some it was the right thing to do the man dropped his jaw to the floor in under a second Seeing him like that was even more terrifying than what he did before. He stood motionless looking at the camera. A cacophony of screams came out from the depths of the man's stomach.

They all screamed and begged for the torture to end. Except, unlike the patience in the second tape, these people deserved the hell that was in this man's belly. The soul eater closed his mouth again. Then he just sat on the bed. What do you want from me? Why are you talking to me like we know each other? Like we are friends.

And you were showing me some new magic trick that you learned, I asked. Well, no. But you see, we could be friends. If you come to work with us, he said. What do you mean work with you? I replied, beads of sweat forming at my temples. You don't have any idea who you. are, do you? he asked, rubbing his chin. I'm just a guy with a camera, I replied.

No, you are not. You have a gift. All these things you have seen here were not meant to be seen by the normal human eye. You have a gift of seeing things that have happened in the past. You can talk to the departed. They can confess to you. You can be their voice, as well as a mentor for them. You can be their guide, he said. This guy talked a lot, and what he said scared the living hell out of me. Remember your friend from childhood, Nikolai? Yes, I do. He moved to another town when I was just seven years old, I replied.

That's where you are wrong. He was never there in the first place. We know because we sent him to you. Your parents worked for us, and when they said you might be gifted, we had to take measures and be sure that you used your gifts for the benefit of humanity. He said as if trying to motivate me to accept the things he was saying. My parents did work for the military, yet they never did say what they did exactly, and I never bothered to ask them for details.

I just wanted to film things. One last time, he said. The man in the glass was changing again and morphing into something else. He twisted, turned, bones cracking, and muscles stretching until... He changed into the officer who brought me here. Now, this guy killed a lot of innocent people about 30 years ago. I hunted it down across Europe. He killed someone I held very dear to my heart.

Shut up! He yelled. His voice so great that I thought it would break the glass. I didn't say anything. He screamed. Not you. This petty excuse of a human soul wants me to let him go. Not a chance in hell, bow.

You'll suffer in the hell of my stomach for as long as I live and breathe. He said, batting himself on the belly. I stood perplexed. What the... He looks scary, doesn't he? Now he's just another soul to the eternal grinder. The man replied. Three men entered the room.

And he changed again into the man that first appeared on the broadcast. One of them had a set of keys in his hand. He used one to open the door of the cage. If you decide to stay, we would love to have you. We have a lot of movies for you to see. Things you won't even believe possible. But, ultimately, it's up to you. I can't force people with gifts to stay here if they don't want to.

My parents were long gone, but if they thought I had something special going on, then I had to stay. I will stay, I said. I want to learn. The man applauded my decision. Very well, young man. There are a lot of things I want to show you. There was a knock on the door. A man greeted me and instructed me to go with him inside the facility. That place has been my home. until last year when my bones decided I was too old to do what I did for the past 45 plus years there were many things that I saw there a lot of expeditions that I embarked on I could write 10 books telling you what I had seen in all those years but for now

this is it until we see each other again end of transmission