Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - My Friends and I Summoned a Demon in the 90s

Episode Date: September 28, 2022

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Before the next part of the story, I'd like to give a special thanks to my new patrons, Jeff, Yobun, and Sue Ann. If you'd like to support the podcast, head over to my Patreon page where you will receive new exclusive scary stories every week for just $5 a month. Go to patreon.com slash DR No Sleep or click the link in the podcast description. Now back to the story. We never meant to summon a demon. Sure, we read the words, followed the book, and went through the rich, Silly as it was. But I'm confident none of us thought it would work.

Our intentions were, I don't know. We were just like any group of kids who look into a mirror and dare a monster to come out. The only difference is it worked for us. It started at a yard sale. Danny, Rachel, Sophia, and I were cruising Rachel's neighborhood without anything particular to do.

We were in Rachel's neck of the woods because, even though she hated to acknowledge it, she lived in a borderline rich area, right there at the line. In contrast, Sophia and I were both out in the sticks. Danny essentially lived in a damn war zone. When we saw the yard sale set up on the lawn of a small mansion, nobody needed to say a word. I knew to pull right over just like I knew we wouldn't be spending any money. Shoplifting from the rich folks was its own reward, no matter what you walked away with. I remember the morning was warm for September. The sky was clear and candy blue, and every green tree and lawn on the street was perfect. You could smell the fresh-cut grass

drying, releasing that last gasp of summer. That was that final, truly carefree morning I would ever have. Funny how you rarely see the major change is coming until you're already around the corner. Sophia and I were talking again that morning, which was good. We'd dated the year before, and the breakup wasn't great, but we'd spent the summer putting patches over the worst of it. She and Danny walked along the aisle of the huge yard sale together. They would lift and examine item after item. Blenders and bowling shoes and lamps and glass lemonade pitchers. I saw Danny slip a bottle opener shaped like a surfboard into his pocket. The middle-aged lady sitting in a lawn chair under an umbrella didn't notice. Fancy yard sales had terrible security back in those days.

I was drifting between the fold-out tables piled high with all of the junk and treasures laid out in clean rows. My headphones kept out the sound of everything but Weezer. I know Pinkerton and Green Album have their fans, but Blue Album will always be my favorite. Rachel was walking next to me, close enough that I could smell her shampoo, something tropical, with hints of orange and vanilla. She was wearing a tank top, and I could see the tan lines on her collarbones, sharp and pale as a ceramic knife. We'd gone to the beach as a group a lot that summer. Rachel and I were walking close but not quite touching, though our shoulders would brush together every few steps.

All of that is so clear to me even now, almost 30 years later. It was a good day, and then I saw the book. The cover was made of cracked red leather with black letters so faded, they were barely shadows. It looked old. I picked it up and thumbed through the dry, out pages quickly. They were yellow, brittle, and smelled like cinnamon. The book was small and fit easily into my back pocket. I glanced at the woman in the lawn chair. She appeared to be

sleeping. We went over our hall later in the car. Danny had the stickiest fingers. He managed to grab all kinds of knickknacks and toys and a quality stainless steel Zippo. That guy always was the quickest and most ambitious. Maybe a side effect of growing up with garbage parents who couldn't be bothered to watch him. Sophia snagged a belt and a Velcro wallet. Rachel didn't take anything, which resulted in a round of teasing. And me, I just had the book. It would be the biggest hit of our take, with Danny Zippo, a distant second.

And I wouldn't know that until we took some time to study it. After the yard sale, the four of us went to Sophia's place because her parents were out of town for the weekend. We picked the liquor cabinet and sat out on her deck staring off into the woods and went through my new book. The reason for the excitement was the subject the book covered, witchcraft. Specifically, the little red volume focused on demons, demonology, and demonic communication. There were dozens of smeared charts and illustrations and portraits. None of us knew what language the text was written in, but Rachel guessed Latin or Greek or something similar.

Rachel figured she could sound it out. It wasn't supposed to be a big thing, just a fun distraction before we all got a little drunk. We'd make a fire, pick a ritual from the book, have some smores, then maybe go drink a couple dozen beers in the floor, forest. I remember the wind plucking leaves from the trees above the deck while we got ready. I remember the light fading, the sun draining into the horizon, stretching out the shadows around us.

But most of all, I remember the silence. It was like the forest was holding its breath. As for the ritual itself, that is still blurry to me. Rachel read from the book, We had a campfire, candles. I think maybe there was incense, or, more likely, potpourri stolen from Sophia's bathroom. It smelled and burned terribly.

The moment I remember with the most clarity is when we took turns pricking our thumbs with a pocket knife, Danny lifted from the garage sale. Just a few drops of blood each, drawn and dripped into the fire. That's all it took. to kill us. The silence after we were done was deeper and colder than anything before. There was no sound of wind or snap of fire. It was dusk, but there were still a few lingering lines of dull

sunlight on the ground. Sophia was the first one to panic. I saw her mouth moving, but couldn't hear what she was saying. And then everyone was trying to talk, to scream. But we were all muted. For a long minute, I thought I'd gone deaf. Then all of the sound came rushing back, and the four of us pulled ourselves together slowly. We were rattled, but unhurt. The night was damaged, though it wasn't ruined. Our ritual and the silence were blips, and we did our best to get back on track after. I'm glad we did.

I'm glad we got to enjoy the rest of that night. It was the last time the four of us would all be together alive in one place. Danny dropped Rachel off at her house after the bonfire. Then he and I went to the park for a bit to smoke. I knew I could walk home from there and offered to let Danny crash at my place so he wouldn't be driving, but he promised he'd sleep it off in his car.

The walk home was nice at first. It was a clear night, with a half-moon that splashed shadows across the road. It was cool, but the breeze didn't have that winter. edge to it yet. I'd swapped out Weezer for REM and was just getting into night swimming when I thought my Walkman died. The song dropped. I waited, slowing down, and then stopping to tap at the big yellow brick, wondering if something was wrong with the cassette. After a moment, I pulled my headphones off and realized that I was standing in a strange, perfect silence.

There was no sound of rustling leaves or my feet shifting on the road or crickets or anything at all. I tried to speak, but my voice was muted. Something moved at the end of the street. It was difficult to see clearly, and I was still distracted by the unexplained silence. But my first thought was, did a horse get out from a field? The figure was massive and could easily be mistaken for a horse. However, when it stepped under a street light, I saw that it was some kind of dog. The biggest dog I'd ever seen for certain, and it was walking towards me slowly.

I began to back away. The dog seemed to keep shifting from oil black to foggy gray, and it was getting bigger with each step it took. I ran. It was a surreal series of moments. There was still no sound at all, not my shoes slamming into the asphalt or the roll. of my pulse that should have sounded like a waterfall. I sprinted down the silent road, too terrified to look back. Even though I couldn't hear the thing's footsteps, I knew it was getting closer. Sound came crashing back all at once. REM whispered out of the headphones I had

around my neck. A car alarm shrieked somewhere a few blocks over. I risked a look back and saw the dog was gone. Still, I only slowed a little, then turned and walked back. backwards searching for the animal in the shadows along the street. Nothing. I snuck into my bedroom through the window, silently swearing to never get high again. I fell asleep with my headphones on and R.E.M. playing on low. The sleep wasn't good. Too full of dreams and twisting things.

My parents woke me up early, which felt borderline sacrilegious on a Saturday. Before I could complain, I saw their faces. They had ugly news. Sophia was dead. Danny, Rachel, and I all met in the park that afternoon. We all looked awful. Even Rachel, who was always perfectly put together, had dark bags under her eyes and slight bedhead.

I knew I was worse. Danny? Danny looked like he got hit by a truck. He was wearing sunglasses, but I had a strong inclination that his eyes were bloodshot to hell. An unlit cigarette hung from his lips. He kept looking around the picnic table we were sitting at, coiled and tense. Ripped apart, Rachel said.

The first words any of us spoke since we agreed to meet up. Torn apart by animals in the woods outside of her house. Jesus. How could that happen? Danny finally flicked open his stolen zippo and lit his cigarette. We know how it happened. We called it up. You don't believe that, I said.

Not sure if I did or not. You don't think a demon killed Sophia. Danny sucked on his filter for a while. I don't know, Billy Boy. I sure as hell don't know. What I do know, though, is that something chased me last night. Something evil. Rachel and I shared a look.

She spoke first. Me too. Some sort of, I don't know. A mountain lion maybe. Here? Danny asked, gesturing around the park. Do you see any hills nearby? Lay off, I said. Something came after me, too.

It was a dog. For me, it looked like a bear, Danny said, tossing his dead cigarette onto the gravel trail nearby. You know, a small bear but nasty looking. Like the damn thing had rabies or something. The three of us sat in silence for a minute. Then the silence reminded me of the night before, and I resisted the urge to panic sprint for my house. When you saw the animals, I began.

Did it get? Quiet, Rachel finished. That's what you're going to say, right? Danny nodded. Silence. It was like all of the noise in the world went down some drain and left only absolute silence. He nodded to himself. Lazzang sur-gillet,

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It was a demon that came after us, a demon that got Sophia. I shifted on the table. I don't think. Danny held up one hand in a let-me-finish gesture. Just for the time being, let's say it was something supernatural. The silence is how we know it's about to attack. It seems like it comes after all of us that, well, all of us who are connected to it at the same time. So why didn't it kill all four of us?

Rachel asked. I was surprised to feel her squeeze my hand. Why stop after killing Sophia? Danny stared at the ground. Maybe it only wants one of us at a time. Maybe. Maybe it's like a snake. It only needs to feed now and then.

Rachel sobbed, and I gave Danny a dirty look but didn't respond. He scanned the tree line, then leaned over and knocked against the picnic table three times. You all heard that too, right? He asked. We nodded. Okay, okay, good. The silence is how we'll know it's around. If all the sound goes out, wherever you are, whatever you're doing, you run.

Run where? I asked. Danny thought about it. A church, I think. A temple, a monastery, hollowed ground man, whatever is closest. You run and you bunker down and you wait. I bet it can only hunt at night. Why do you think that? Rachel asked. It's always that way. Demons hunt in the dark. Didn't realize you were an expert on demonology, I said, but I didn't argue. Danny was the first to leave. I'm going to do some research at the library. Just stay vigilant.

If I'm right, the demon will attack again tonight. I felt sick for the rest of the day, carefully watching the sun sink lower, with my walkman turned up to max. As soon as the music stopped, I would run. There was a church two blocks over from my house. I told my parents I needed to take a walk to clear my head just so I could be close to the place at sunset.

They were worried about me and made me promise not to be out late with the animal attacks going on and all. Come sundown, I was sitting on the steps in front of the church, headphones around my neck, but with the music still blaring. After an hour of sitting under the weak porch lights of the church, I got up and slowly started walking home.

That was the worst part, the part I hadn't thought about, The part when I was most vulnerable. I moved at a fast clip, always ready to turn on my heels and sprint for hallowed ground if my music stopped. In the end, nothing happened that night other than my insomnia growing a little stronger. Nothing happened the night after that, either. Or the week after, or for months. Then years.

My guard dropped. It was so easy to ride it all off as a random attack and the three of us having bad dreams. Then, five years to the day of Sophia's death, my music stopped playing. I was sitting on my deck watching the stars on the night of the second attack. After graduating, Rachel Danny and I drifted apart. Rachel went to university. Danny did a stint in the military and got tossed out for drugs last I heard. I ended up going into business with my brother right after high school.

roofing, home renovation, and general contracting. I was making good money for a guy in his early 20s back then. The night it came back, I remember I was drinking a beer and listening to the Slim Shady LP. I still carried my Walkman everywhere, though I'd upgraded to the CD version by then. It was out of habit more than anything. I rarely thought about Sophia,

except for the occasional nightmare. But as soon as the music went dead right at the first chorus of role model, I was standing and looking around my yard. I'd just bought the house in the spring and loved the backyard. It was fenced in and brightly lit by big floodlights on the house. Hello? I tried to call out. The silence was back and it was everything.

Shadows moved at one corner of the fence. A lot of shadows. tiny darting things, black specks against the fence. I felt a humming in my teeth, even though I couldn't hear it. I ran for my house. The creatures hit the glass door like hail only a few seconds after I closed it. The things were like a cross between a wasp and a bat. They had smooth, bullet bodies with segmented eyes and tattered wings.

Just like the dog from years ago, the bugs shifted depending on how I looked at them. Sometimes they were black, other times brown, and occasionally a dark red. I backed away as they slammed into the glass over and over again. Cracks formed, then spider webbed across the door. I was sprinting down the hallway trying to decide which room to lock myself inside when I heard the glass shatter. I heard it shatter. The silence was gone.

I still slipped into the bathroom and barricaded the door, shoving a towel under the seam to block it completely. after ten minutes with no signs of the creatures, I went to check the damage. The door leading to my deck lay as a pile of glass shards on my dining room floor. I stared at it until the ringing of my phone snapped me out of it. Hello, I whispered, looking out into my yard. Oh, thank God! A familiar voice said on the line.

You're okay. Billy, you're okay, right? Yeah, I think so. Who is this? It's Rachel. Rachel? Yeah, it's back, Billy. Did you? Yes, I said, moving some glass away from my foot.

It was just here. There was a pause. I called you first, Rachel said. Danny. My chest ached. I'll call him, and then I'll call you right back, okay? Okay, call as soon as you can. I went searching through my contact book for a phone number for Danny.

The first one I tried was disconnect. The second rang for several minutes before I hung up. I called Danny's parents and confirmed that the second number was correct and that he should be home. I tried the number every ten minutes for the next hour with the same result. By the time I called Rachel back, she knew, just like I did, that we would be going to our hometown for a funeral very soon. They said that Danny overdosed, and most people believed that, but they never did tell us exactly. What he overdosed on. His funeral was closed casket.

I kept picturing hundreds of those wasp things, each the size of a Swiss Army knife, swarming over my friend, biting and stinging and ripping, filling his veins with venom. They found his body in a cemetery not far from his house. I heard later from a cop friend that it looked like he'd been crawling toward the church when he died. Five years between attacks.

Five years between the bonfire and the ritual, we all thought were just silly, spooky nonsense. Rachel and I agreed to stay close for a while to keep an eye on each other. We never really talked about exactly what we would do if the demon showed up again, other than making a beeline for the nearest patch of holy ground. Rachel wasn't long out of school and ended up getting a job in our hometown, just temporary. Temporary turned into a year, then five. And still there was no sign of the demon. Part of me tried to convince myself that it was over.

Two was enough, I hoped. Whatever attention we drew, whatever we summoned, two was enough, and now it was gone. I never really believed that, but what was my other option? How Rachel and I ended up together despite our best effort still baffles me. Strategy sessions turned into coffee meetings, then into sushi dates, then movies, some trips and a wedding, which was the second best day of my life. Then Ray was born, and I worried that the seams of me would split with all of that happiness. Fifteen beautiful, perfect years.

That's what Rachel and I got before the third visit from the demon. I was driving when it happened. My music was on again. It was almost always on in my life. But this time it was coming from my phone, and the car was. car's Bluetooth connection. Nirvana, I think, though I can't remember if it was never mind or in utero. When the silence came, I screamed, but a calmness soon settled over me. There was a car gaining on me in my rear view. It was black, then gray, then red, depending on the light and the

angle. My first instinct was to slam on the accelerator, to night race the demon until sunrise, if need be. But I didn't. Instead, I took my foot off of the gas. The shadow car behind me got closer. I couldn't see much through its high beams, but there was a human shape in the front at the wheel. Then, after I blinked, there were human shadows in my car, filling up my back seat, featureless, silent, reaching.

I closed my eyes and hit the brakes. One night, five years, fifteen years. If the pattern held, then maybe Rachel would have another 25 years with Ray, or maybe 45, maybe a lifetime. The car stopped and I waited. I wondered if it would hurt. I tried to keep Rachel's face and Ray's face fixed in my mind. At least they would be safe.

I heard Nirvana coming from my speakers and, at first, I didn't understand. Then it dawned on me, slow and terrible. But I was still alive and unhurt. The silence was gone. The demon didn't get me. It turned out Rachel made the same choice I did. Only she was better at it. She was always a step ahead of me when we were young.

We buried her on a beautiful, cloudy day last week. Ray hasn't stopped crying yet. Neither have I. Though I try to do it when I'm alone. I know eventually. Ray's eyes will clear, and I'll do everything I can to give her a lovely life. One where she hears stories about her mother every day. Twenty-five years. Maybe more, but probably not.

Each day is a gift Rachel gave me as well as a demand. Take care of our daughter. Make her know she is loved. And when the silence comes again, be ready. See you then, Rachel.