Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - Pt. 2 - I was delivering food when I stumbled upon something terrible

Episode Date: January 30, 2023

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I yanked on the straps, feeling for weakness and finding none. Although they were frayed at the sides, they were still too strong for me to break. The long Velcro straps around my wrists and ankles weren't locked, but I would need to be able to reach the end of the straps to undo them. And that wasn't going to happen. I couldn't get my mouth close enough to either one of my wrists to use my teeth, not even close. The creaking of a board from upstairs caught my attention.

recalling the sound of footsteps moving away from the front of the house when I first arrived. I wondered if there was someone else in the house. Someone complicit in whatever sick stuff was going on here. Or maybe the earlier footsteps had been the man's. Maybe he'd gone out the back door to come around the house. I quickly determined that I had nothing to lose. Hello? I called out. I need help. Is someone there?

Floor boards creaked upstairs. I waited, listening hard, holding my breath. There was no telling how long the man would be gone. Or maybe this was some kind of trick. The creaking noises made their way toward the stairs. I turned my attention there and soon saw a pair of small, bare feet come into view. The feet moved down the stairs, one step at a time,

until I could see that they belonged to a little girl. She looked to be no older than 13. She stopped two steps from the bottom. Her pink pajamas were dirty and smeared with blood here and there. Her long brown hair was messy and tangled, hanging disheveled in front of her face. Hey, yeah, come on, I said in a low voice. Come help me. She shook her head. I bit back my frustration and decided on a different tactic. What's your name? I asked. My name's Kurt. The girl peered at me from behind her hair.

She said nothing. A noise from the front yard caught my attention. It sounded like a car door closing. The girl's eyes went wide. She turned and ran back upstairs. Shit! I breathed out, letting my head drop back to the floor. The front door opened and the man walked in.

He stepped up, feet on either side of my head, and leaned down so he was upside down in my vision. He brought one fist forward and then opened it, letting pieces of hard plastic, silicon, iron, and aluminum fall onto my chest. It didn't take me long to realize that it was my phone. He'd smashed it to pieces. He'd probably been out dealing with my car. He disappeared into a room at the front of the house and then came back,

kneeling beside me with a knife in his left hand. He pressed the tip of the knife to my stomach, just under my rib cage. I winced, feeling the sharp tip pierced my t-shirt and stick into my skin. You make any sudden move? I'll jam this into your guts, he said. When I said nothing, he applied a little more pressure. Do you believe me? Yes, I said. He smiled with his wide spaced teeth and turned his attention to the strap on my left wrist. He undid the Velcro with one hand, always keeping the knife against my stomach with the other. He repeated the process with the other three limbs.

I made no move. I knew he was serious. Roll over and get on your hands and knees, he said, standing up. I did, as I was told. Then he made me turn around and crawl up the stairs. He stayed behind me the whole time, telling me what he'd do with a knife if I made any sudden moves. The stench of death crowded my nostrils as we moved up the cluttered stairs. I thought about picking up every beer can with a sharp edge I passed.

Every rusty tool, every broken doll. Scenarios ran through my head. Pick up the screwdriver, dive forward while turning around, kick out to buy some time, then attack. But I never did it. In all the scenarios, the man got the jump on me. It was too many moves. Too much to do. when he could just step forward and jam the knife into my body.

I wouldn't have a chance. But when we got to the top of the stairs, I realized I'd blown my only opportunity. I was going to die in this terrible house. There was dried blood all over the second floor hallway. It was soaked into the floor, creating a varnish of sorts. It was splashed on the green floral wallpaper.

The man directed me to the first room on the right. The door was open, And I crawled forward, glancing inside. I stopped, shaking my head. No. I whined. No, please, please, I'll do anything. Get in there!

The man shouted at me. A steely resolve came upon me, birthed by the notion that I needed to die with some dignity left. No. I said, no longer whining, just stating a fact. No, I'm not going in there. I stood up on my knees, half turning toward the man. He stepped forward.

forward and slashed at me with a knife, the blade opening the skin on my upper left arm. The pain came a moment later, shocking in its crispness. Get in there, I'll kill you slow right here. Don't think I won't do it. Where do you think all this blood came from? My resolve was gone. With my right hand clamped over the wound on my left arm, I moved awkwardly into the room on my knees. When I was past the door, the man kicked me in the back, sending me sprawling. into the room. He shut the door, leaving me alone with the array of naked, bloody dolls nailed to the bedroom walls. I heard the distinctive sound of a deadbolt sliding into place as he

locked me in. There were dolls of all kinds affixed to nearly every square inch of wall, but most of them were baby dolls. Some were plastic. Others were made of fabric and stuffing. They seemed to stare at me, their eyes vacant, yet somehow accusatory. There was a large pile of dolls and doll parts in the far left corner of the room. This room's floor, like the hallway, was coated in dried blood. The window had been covered with a board, nailed in place, and coated with dolls. I could see all this because of a dim plug-in nightlight near the door. There was no furniture in the room at all.

There was a closet, but the doors had been removed, revealing only an empty rectangular space. I didn't know what was going to happen to me in this room. but I knew it wouldn't be good. Nothing good ever happened in a room with naked dolls nailed to the walls. I turned my attention to the wound on my arm, ripping off a length of my sleeve to use as a makeshift bandage. As I worked, I thought about the little girl.

Was she another captive? If so, why was she allowed to roam around freely? Maybe she's his daughter, I thought. She seemed to be my only hope of escape. If she could just unlock the door, I could get the hell out of this place. As I finished securing my makeshift bandage over the cut, my thoughts turned to my mom. She was probably wondering where I was. I had no idea how long it had been since she messaged me, but I didn't think more than a couple of hours.

Still, maybe she contacted the police. Maybe they could find the last location of my phone and come out to investigate. Maybe they'd find me. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Standing up, I moved to the door and tried to open it. I moved to the board over the window and inspected it. There were nails every inch or so, holding it to the wall. Still, I tried prying it off with my fingertips.

It wouldn't budge. Next, I moved toward the pile of doll parts in the corner. Something caught my eye. My heart lurched. There was a face there, a woman's face. Half buried by the plastic parts, she stared at me, much like the dolls on the walls did, with vacant eyes. I stuck my foot out and nudged the dolls over her face, making them fall away.

They revealed a young woman with blonde hair and a plump face. Her skin was greenish blue, her lips purple. The wound across her throat was hard to see in the low light, but I didn't need details. I knew what had happened to her. What would soon happen to me? She was no longer a person. Now she was a corpse. Nothing more than a corpse among lifeless dolls.

I wondered if she was the one I heard screaming. I doubted it. It looked like she'd been dead for too long. Moving to the opposite corner of the room, I tried to keep it together. I tried not to focus on the pain and terror I would experience in the moments leading up to my death. I pulled my knees up and crossed my forearms on them.

Then I propped my forehead on my arms and fought against the despair blooming inside me. A mad swirl of thoughts took over, making me lose track of time, so I wasn't sure how long it had been when I heard the door lock disengage. Raising my head, I looked up toward the door as it opened. The little girl's face appeared in the widening crack.

She had one slender index finger pressed to her lips. I nodded, an ember of hope warming my insides. She waved me over. looking behind her as if to check for the man. I stood up and moved as quickly and quietly as I could doored her. She backed out into the hall, giving me space to come out. I looked both ways, seeing nothing but an empty hallway. I moved out, floorboards creaking with each step.

The girl pointed to the stairs. I didn't need any urging. I moved down them, trying to be quiet. On my way up, I'd seen a screwdriver on the steps. I scanned for it, not seeing it at first. Then I spotted it, sitting near where I'd seen it earlier. I grabbed it, realizing immediately that it was a fake. The handle was hollow, and upon closer inspection, I saw that the metal was in fact plastic.

It looked so real. But it was about as good a weapon as the discarded doll arm lying next to my foot, I said, setting it down and moving toward a rusty hammer. It was the same thing. hollow plastic made to look real. A high-pitched chuckle came from behind me. I turned to see the little girl. Her face lit up as she laughed, pointing at me from several stairs up. My stomach dropped.

That ember of hope extinguishing with deafening finality. I turned away from the little girl and ran down the hall toward the front door. I nearly got up to a full sprint as I approached the door. Then a wooden baseball bat came swinging out a doorway on the right. It hit me in the chest, knocking me off my feet and onto my back. Rithing in pain on the floor and trying to catch my breath, I heard the little girl's laughter joined by the man's. He stepped out through the doorway, bat, still in his hand, looking down at me.

She loves the look on people's faces when they realize it's all his set up, he said, grinning. Nothing like it, but she likes the next part even better. The man stepped over me, easily smacking my head. leg back down as I tried to kick him. He grabbed me by the ankle and dragged me down the hall into a kitchen area. My breathing was finally returning to normal when he dropped my leg and pointed through an open doorway with the bat. I looked through, seeing that it was access to a basement. Concrete steps led down to the impenetrable darkness. Go on down, the man said. It's all ready now. I didn't expect another guest quite so soon, so I had to do some work. But when James,

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The conditions apply. What the hell are you talking about? I asked from the floor. Doesn't matter, he said, just go. Now, you get a head start. Sensing movement behind me. I glanced back and saw the little girl.

Janie, I guessed, standing patiently near the leaning kitchen table. She held a knife in one hand and an old-fashioned razor in the other. What is wrong with you, people? the baseball bat into the floor next to my head. Go! He screamed.

As he brought the bat up for another swing, I scrambled to my feet and ran down into the basement. As I reached the bottom of the steps, the door shut behind me, plunging me into darkness. I stopped, unsure whether they locked me in or if they were coming down with me. My frantic breathing was too loud,

so I held my breath. I heard the soft sound of a bare foot stepping onto concrete behind me. Better run, boy. The man said from somewhere near the tops of the steps, She's coming for you. At first, I thought, so what? She's a little girl.

But that bravado didn't last long. I couldn't see anything at all. And the girl had a knife and a razor. I thought about the blood I'd seen on her pink pajamas. Most of it was on her sleeves. The realization hit me that the blood was on her sleeves because she did the killing. I moved forward with my hands out until I came to a brick wall. Following it left, I moved as quickly as I could, willing my eyes to adjust.

The floor was dirt, and my feet scuffled along, making more noise than I wanted to. Making a conscious effort to pick up my feet, I continued on for what seemed like a long time before the wall turned a hard right under my hands. I stopped, feeling a faint breeze coming from that direction. A tunnel, I thought. If there's a breeze, maybe there's a way out. I heard a faint giggle close behind me. Panic thrummed inside me and I lurched forward, smacking my head into a wooden board. I went down my knees, and almost as soon as I did, a terrible pain erupted in the middle of my back.

The girl giggled as she took the knife out of me. Her pattering footsteps told me she was retreating into the darkness. I took a gulping breath, twisting one hand to feel where she'd stabbed me. The blade was short, and I didn't think it had gone deep enough to do serious damage. I put my right hand on the wall and got to my feet. Then I put my left hand out in front of my face to try and prevent hitting my head a second time. Then I started moving again. My eyes were adjusting, allowing me to make out dark shapes.

But as I was coming up to something set in the tunnel ceiling at about head height, a flash of blinding light erupted from the object. I shut my eyes on reflex, but it was too late. It had already ruined my night vision for the next several minutes. The pitter-patter of running feet came up behind me. I ran forward, not wanting to get stabbed together. wanting to get stabbed again and tripped over a taut line set at angle height. I went down hard, landing on my chest. I clambered to my hands and knees before the girl giggled again and stabbed me

in the left side. I cried out and swung a hand backward, but she was already gone. They were fucking with me. They had this whole thing set up for maximum entertainment. The board, the light, the trip wire. It was all there on purpose. Who knows what else they had waiting up ahead in this damn tunnel. Rage boiled inside me, driven by the pain of the stab wounds and the broken nose and the sliced arm, and by the humiliation. They were fucking with me. Well, I wasn't going to keep playing. Fuck that. They could kill me if they wanted, but I wasn't about to let them draw it out for the sheer joy of it. I settled into a crouch against the wall and waited. I would force them to make the next move. Either kill me or try to make me keep going. I had to be a

had a good idea of what it would be. Better keep on going, the man said from somewhere behind me. His voice bounced crazily off the walls. You might even make it out if you're lucky. Fuck you. I said. Come get me. Such a tough guy, the man said.

That's why I usually go for women. They're smarter. They keep going. But you... I'm right here. I said. Either kill me or let me go. I've had enough of this shit.

There was silence for a long moment, then whispering. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I was pretty sure the guy was talking to his daughter, or whatever she was to him. This continued for the better part of a minute. My eyes were slowly adjusting again, getting over the shock of the bright light, which was probably on a motion sensor.

I jumped at the scream, looking to my left down the dark tunnel. Okay, okay, the man said. I'll take care of it. It suddenly clicked. The screaming I'd heard earlier wasn't a victim. It was the little girl throwing a fit, screaming so she could get what she wanted.

In fucking sane, I sat under my breath. A beam of light suddenly cut down the tunnel, directly into my face. It wasn't the same one from earlier. This was a flashlight. The man was trying to kill my night vision again so he could come deal with me, so he could get me to play the little game.

I turned my head. and he switched the flashlight off. But that didn't make sense to me. Wouldn't turning on the light like that have damaged his night vision too? Earlier, when I approached the other light, he could have shut his eyes and turned away. Maybe that's what he did this time. Or maybe he had a way to see in the dark.

I listened hard as he approached. He stopped nearby, likely on the other side of the tripwire and spoke. I will get you to keep going. Whether I break an arm or take a finger off is up to you, but you will keep going. You will. I held out my left hand toward him. Pick whichever finger you like. Hell, take them all, I said. You little.

I heard the wish of the bat and pulled my arm away just an instant before it cracked off the wall with the sound like a major leaguer hitting a home run. I shot my arm back out again, grabbing the bat off the rebound and yanking it toward me. The man didn't let go, not at first. I pulled him off balance and he stumbled forward and tripped over the wire. He let go of the bat to catch himself. I reversed it quickly, slamming it down where I thought he landed. The bat connected with flesh, making a satisfying crunching sound.

The little girl started screaming again as I brought the bat down repeatedly on the man's body. He reached out and grabbed one of my legs with a hand, and I adjusted, hitting him in the arm and knocking his hand aside. Then I reached down and felt around his head. There it was. A night vision device on the ground near his head. It must have come off when he fell or when I hit him. I dropped the bat to pull on the device. The tunnel came to life in shades of green and white.

The little girl filled my vision as she lunged forward, catching me in the neck with the old-fashioned razor blade. Warmth poured down my chest as I brought one hand to the wound. I dodged her next attack and kicked her back, sending her falling onto the man. Then I was up and running the other way, keeping my right hand pressed to the wound of my neck, I'd left the bat behind in my panic. The tunnel seemed to go on forever.

I felt myself growing weaker by the second, but I kept my legs churning. There were more traps. All of them designed to slow a person down, but not do too much damage. The damage, I knew, was supposed to come from the girl, little by little, like ripping apart a doll, piece by piece. Finally, I saw an end to the hellish tunnel. There was a short staircase leading up to a set of double doors like you see outside of some houses, the kinds that lead to cellars. Glancing back, I saw the little girl gaining on me.

Her mouth was set in a toothy scowl, her eyes filled with hate like I'd never seen before from any child. She still had both her weapons, and I knew she was determined to use them. I pushed on the doors with my left hand, my blood still seeping through the fingers of my right. The doors opened, to my surprise. They weren't locked from the outside. I doubted anyone had gotten this far. By the time they came to the end of the tunnel, they were probably on their last legs.

Of course, I wasn't much better off. My legs were impossibly heavy as I stepped out of the tunnel and into the dark forest. I thought about turning to fight my assailant. After all, she was just a little girl. But in my weakened state, I wasn't sure I could succeed. So I ran, hearing the patter of her feet

coming up the concrete stairs behind me. Lurching through the trees, I looked for a road, or for some sign of civilization. I forced my legs to keep moving, knowing that for every stride I took, the girl would have to take two. My vision was dimming as I came to a small clearing in the woods. Breathing heavily, I had to stop for a moment. I still had the night vision device on, so I swept my head around looking for the girl. She was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she'd given up and gone back to help the man. The faint sound of her. The car engine came to my ears from up ahead. I turned my head that way, looking through the trees and seeing the faint glow of far-off

headlights. Trudging forward on heavy legs, I made it to the other side of the clearing, seeing the distant ribbon of road ahead. A smile touched my face as I continued on. Thankfully, the car was going slowly on the country road. It was still a good 50 yards away when I scrambled up onto the road, waving my left hand. Help! I called out.

but without much force. I suddenly realized how I must look with the night vision goggles on, so I ripped them off and tossed them down. The car slowed to a stop about 15 yards for me. I couldn't see what kind of car it was, or even how many people were inside, thanks to the bright headlights. Overcome with relief, I dropped to my knees in the traffic lane. The beginnings of a sobs starting in my throat.

That was when I heard the slap of bare feet on asphalt. I turned to see the girl mere feet away, moving fast. She growled like a wild animal as she jumped at me, swinging the razor blade for a killing strike. I put my left hand up to ward off the blow, catching the blade in my fist. The sharp metal cut into my fingers, but I kept hold of it, pulling it out of the girl's hand as I fell onto my back. But she still had the knife. She screamed, that awful scream and lunged for me, bleeding with the knife. I raised my right hand for my neck wound, but I was too weak.

I'd lost too much blood. This was it. A booming gunshot sounded, and the girl collapsed on top of me, the knife cutting limply across my chest, barely breaking the skin. I threw her off in a panic, not sure what had happened. But as I scrambled away from her, I noticed the gunshot wound in her back. Kurt? My mom said.

Are you okay? My eyes went wide at the sound of her voice. I turned to see her standing behind the open driver's side door, the back splash from the headlights, providing just enough illumination that I could make out of her voice. her familiar features. Mom. I said in a dreamlike state as my eyelids grew heavy. How?

Before she could answer, I lost consciousness. When I started delivering food for a living several years ago, my mother made me promise to download one of those phone tracking apps. I'd completely forgotten about it until she reminded me after I got out of surgery at the hospital. I knew something was wrong when you didn't respond to my text after an hour. she told me, sitting beside my bed in the hospital room. It was true.

I always made it a point to respond to her messages as quickly as I could. I was watching the tracking up on my phone when the little dots suddenly disappeared, she said. So I called the police and then started driving around in that area, seeing if I could spot your car. I guess I'm lucky you were having a good night, I said, even though talking hurt my throat. She smiled. Not too much shaking last night, that's true. But when I shot that woman, I was so scared I hit you instead.

Well, you didn't, I said. Wait, what woman? You mean a little girl? My mom shook her head. That wasn't a little girl, she said. The police told me she was known to them. She'd been arrested before. She's a 33-year-old woman named Jane Turner.

She had a rare condition that affected her pituitary gland, stunting her growth and making her look like a young girl. You said, was. I guess she's dead, I asked. Oh, yes, my mom said. Turns out, I'm still a pretty good shot. I managed a weak smile. What about the man? Did the police find him? What man? She said.