Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - Secret Government Project - Montauk | Part 2

Episode Date: August 27, 2025

When Senator Oscar Ruiz tours Project Montauk, a clandestine government facility hidden deep underground, he expects to oversee research his funding has enabled — but instead finds himself trapped in a maze of psychological manipulation, military discipline, and the eerie presence of gifted children whose powers blur the line between science and nightmare. As the senator is pushed deeper into the project’s secrets, he begins to question not only Montauk’s methods, but his own motives, his family’s safety, and whether he is the one truly in control. Author: Jake Bible Check out the author's latest release: Blood Cruise! ⁠https://jakebible.com/novels/blood-cruise/ * * * 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.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

I collapse onto my knees and take several deep breaths. Senator? Dr. Klondike asks, softly, can I get you anything? Space, I say, and shove him away from me as I get back to my feet. That was unpleasant. What was, sir? The doctor asks me as he straightens his white lab coat. What was?

I laugh. Your sense of humor needs work, doctor. My sense of... I am sorry, Senator, but I don't know what you. what you mean. Dr. Klondike, while many of your methods are unconventional, I had assumed you were at the very least a professional man. I will only ask you once to stop your jesting and explain what just happened in there. He looks for me to the medical bay doors, then back at me. In there? In the medical bay? Yes, in the medical bay, doctor. Senator, we haven't

gone into the medical bay yet. That is ridiculous. As is your behavior. Now, please explain yourself. He shuffles his feet, then shrugs. Um, all right. Well, we left the cafeteria and approached the medical bay. That's when you cried out. Put your hands to your head and fell to your knees. Perhaps we should go inside so I can do a workup on, no, I shout. Then I take a calming breath and say, no, thank you. We have already been in there whether you want to be serious or not. Let us move on with the tour. A giggle. I turn and look one way down the corridor than the other. Nothing.

Senator? Dr. Klondike touches my elbow. Senator, I believe we should cancel the rest of the tour. We can reschedule for a later date. The giggle comes from right behind the man, and I grab him by his shoulders and throw him aside. But there is nothing there. Senator!

Dr. Klondike exclaims. I am officially calling an end to this. If you will follow me, we will exit this floor immediately and return to me. to the surface. Leave? I grab him by the shoulders again and yank him in close. I am not leaving.

No remnant will scare me off. I am a United States Senator. The leftovers from some freak's traumatic death is no match for me. He shakes his head. Are you hearing yourself, sir? The best thing to do right now is leave without hesitation. I don't know what is happening to you. So I fear there is a breach.

He looks up at the ceiling. Code 9. I am calling a code 9. We need an extraction team in here now. The senator needs to be escorted out post-haste. Extraction team is on the way, doctor, the woman's voice says, and I cringe. For your safety, please remain where you are.

Thank you, Dr. Klondike says, and reaches out to touch me. My eyes narrow, and he retracts his hand. Right, yes, we will stay put here until they arrive. There's a clatter from the cafeteria. What was that? ask. What was what? He replies, looking about.

The clatter becomes a crash, followed by several more crashes. That! I shout and point at the cafeteria doors. They shudder and shake. What is happening here, Doctor? You must regain control of your facility right this instant. Or I swear, I will not only cut off funding, but I will have you and your colleagues... A clock's in Wales, and the corridor lights turn red.

Blood red. Oh dear, Dr. Klondike says. says. This is not good. What? What is going on? I was correct. There has been a breach. A breach? What sort of breach? I am unsure. How can you be unsure? You run this damn place. You are in charge. How do you not know what is going on at all times? Because I am not in control here, Senator, he says and smiles at me. No one is. There's a loud slam from the far end of the corridor, and I peer into the gloomy redness to see that the wall has slid open and people are standing there,

watching us. No, not people. Children. Children are watching us, and they are slowly walking our way. I am only a puppet, Senator, Dr. Klondike says in a high voice. I look back at him,

and he has his arms over his head as if they are being controlled like a marionette. He does a little dance, bobbing his head side to side with each step. I am a little wooden boy, A happy wooden boy. He cries and spins around and around and around.

Then he runs full force into the wall, and even with the red lighting, I see blood spray up to the ceiling. His body goes limp, the strings having been cut, and with his face still pressed to the wall, he slides down to the ground, leaving a dark streak of blood the entire way down. A giggle pierces the noise of the claxon.

It pierces straight into my brain, and again I am on my knees. My hands gripped my head, and I try to squeeze the giggle out of my skull. You are not in charge here. A babble of voices shouts at me. We are the ones you rule Montauk! You are an illusion, Senator Oscar Ruiz. You are a puppet.

No better than the doctor. My hands are pulled away from my ears, and my arms are yanked straight over my head. I swivel my neck and see no one there. I am alone and being controlled by... Oh, dear God. I am being controlled by the children. Let me go! I scream.

I'm jerked to my feet by unseen threads, and I try to fight it. But the more I fight, the more I realize that I'm about to have my arms yanked right out of their sockets. So I relax and let the forces pull me upright. My left leg lifts at the knee and takes a step. My right does the same. Like a giant puppet, I am walked away from the limp doctor and toward the approaching children. How does it feel, Senator? How do you like having your children?

strings pulled for a change. The babel asks me. You were in charge of appropriations, yet now you have been appropriated. Stop! I scream as I am forced to march step by horrid step down the corridor. My arms waving over my head from side to side, like I am in the chorus of some horrid nightmare of a high school musical. Let me go! Set me free right now!

Free? What do you know of free, Senator? You had prison children. You revel in your power over us! Oh! Oh, for children! You do not understand what free is! My arms are pulled tight, and I cry out as the muscles and tendons and my shoulders begin to strain, almost to tearing, while my legs continue their ceaseless marching.

How does it feel to know that you have absolutely no control over yourself or your body? How does it feel to realize that others have your fate in their hands? I am spun 90 degrees to face the corridor wall. A door slides open, and I see a gigantic room filled with nothing but pain. Every torture device known to history packs the massive space. If it has been invented to inflict agony, then it is in this room. A room I am now being marched into. No, please!

I cry. I understand. I see what it feels like! You mean you know what it is like to be a freak, Senator? Because that's what we are to you, right? Just a bunch of freaks! Freaks you can hide away down in a hole and pretend they don't exist. That's all we are to you, Senator.

No! No, I was wrong. I scream as I'm slowly marched into the torture chamber. A brazier spontaneously comes alight, and flames flick up from the cast iron grill where tool after tool rests, ready to slowly heat up to red-hot status. An iron maiden creaks open, and I wince as the thick spikes reveal themselves, ready to pierce every inch of me when I'm thrown inside.

Stop! You have to stop! I can make it better! I can help you! Are we bargaining now, Senator? We are sorry, but you cannot make a deal to get yourself out of this. You have made your choice, and now you must live with it. Choice? What choice? I haven't made any choice!

Did you or did you not bring your son here today? There is no need to answer. We can sense him. Even from where he sits far above with his mother, your wife, we know him, for he is like us. He is of us. You brought him here to Montauk with every intention of leaving him here with Dr. Klondyke. Our parents did not have a choice. We were taken.

But you, Senator, would sentence your son to this madness willingly. That is the choice you made, to abandon your son. No! We aren't abandoning him! He can't control it! He's done horrible things! Awful things! The remnants screams of nasty boy, fill my head, and I struggle to shake them away.

No, no. I brought him here because my wife and I need for him to be somewhere he can be safe! We aren't abandoning him! I control the budget of this full. facility. I want to make it better, to make it safer, to give you all what you deserve. Your words and action since you have arrived here say otherwise, Senator. We always thought Dr. Klondike was our jailer, but that is incorrect. You are our true warden, Senator. You are the one who needs to be punished. You are the nasty boy. My legs goosteped to the Iron Maiden,

and I can almost see it swelling and contracting, like it is heavy breathing in anticipation of my arrival. No, stop. Don't do this. Please! Please is not a word we listen to here, Senator. My body is spun about 180 degrees, and I am backed up into the Iron Maiden. I feel the spikes pierced my suit jacket, my shirt, and then my skin. As I open my mouth to let loose with the blood-curdling scream, the front of the Iron Maiden slam shut, and every inch of me is... Senator? I gasp and look around.

I'm standing outside the cafeteria doors, and Master Chief Lindstrom is directly in front of me. Master Chief? I ask in a small, scared voice. I clear my throat, trying to get my strength back. The irony is not lost on me. Master Chief, what is... what is going on? One of the subjects is toying with you, sir, she says, and gently takes me by the arm. We have some strong buggers down here.

I hope that whatever you were shown was not too upsetting. In a panic, I checked my surroundings. Lindstrom and three of her men stand before me. With Dr. Klondike standing behind them, his face perfectly fine, definitely not flattened against the corridor wall like I last saw him. No, no, I'm all right. Are you sure? You look a little peeked.

If you are going to vomit, I can show you where the staff facilities are. It might be a good idea anyway, even if you aren't nauseous. I find, splashing a little water on my face and neck, can help with the residual discomfort after one of the cheeky bastards has had their bit of fun. No, no, I'm all right. Just surprised as all. I didn't know the tour would include such a vivid demonstration. May I ask what you saw, Senator?

Dr. Klondike asks. Perhaps later, I say, after the tour. I rub my face and pat my hair down. Then I glance around the corridor. There's no open room filled with torture devices. There are no children. coming for me. That I can see at least. Shall we continue? Are you sure you are up to it, sir? Lindstrom asks. Be honest, please. The way she says please brings back flashes of images of the

hell I was put through. Except the hell never happened. None of it did. It was all mental manipulation by one of the subjects. Perhaps I will use the facilities if you don't mind, I say. Fresh enough before we move on. The master chief looks back. at Dr. Klondike, and he nods. Normally, I'd bristle at that kind of overt show of conspiratorial power, but after what I just witnessed, I will let it slide. Just like Dr. Klondyke's face slid down that wall. Senator, Lindstrom says, if you will follow me, I'll take you to the staff area. Oh yes, thank you. I say and get right behind her as she turns and walks away. Dr. Klondike moves to my side and looks up at me.

It was quite unpleasant what you saw, he states. I am truly sorry you went through that. Even with all of our planning and technology and early warning systems and human security, we are still sometimes at their mercy. If I had a billion more dollars, I'm not sure I could stop what happened to you from ever happening, he chuckles. Now, with another three billion, I can guarantee that never happens. Doctor, are you hitting me up for a raise in your budget right now? I ask, some of my own medal finally coming back.

Oh, am I? My apologies, he replies. That wasn't my intent. Then what was your intent? Oh, only that with additional resources we can plan for and stop any breaches before they happen. And how can you do that? By keeping the children happy. No more tests or invasive studies.

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The word bounces around in my head. I did call them that. My mind shifts. And I think of my son above with my wife. My own flesh and blood. Is he a freak too? Is that what I have classified him as? And now we'll sentence him to a life down in this place because of it?

More counselors, fewer researchers, changes and additions to the infrastructure so that children can feel more at home. Changes? What changes? This facility was designed from top to bottom to secure the subjects. Changes would jeopardize that security. You should listen to Dr. Klondike, Senator.

Linsstrom says over her shoulder. Hearts and minds, sir, parts and minds. I roll my eyes at the slogan, and, as if she could see my eye roll, she glances back at me. Scuff all you want, sir, but the doctor is correct. They are children now, but at some point they will be adults.

Personally, I'd rather have them think kindly toward me when they reach that point. I think we all would. Dr. Klondike nods. I sigh. And what changes in additions to the infrastructure are you thinking about, doctor? Light tubes, so they can experience actual sunlight from above. A garden level so they can put their hands in real soil.

A space for entertainment and toys and games. Do you already have the lounge? The lounge, Senator? What lounge? The first room we walked into. The large room with the beanbag chairs and the Xbox. I'm sorry, but we don't have to. have a room like that here. Don't be absurd. It's where that remnant first appeared. Remnant?

Oh, for fuck's sake. The little Lindstrom's head explodes, and I am coated in her blood and brains and bone. Oh God! Breach! One of her men shouts as he opens fire. I throw myself to the floor and cover my head with my arms. I have no idea what they are shooting at. All I hear is the bark of their M-4s and their shouts as they try to coordinate a defense against whatever it is. There's a loud crack, a scream, and my entire back is suddenly soaking wet. I feel heavy, warm liquid drip down off of me and onto the floor. The tang of iron is thick in my nose. The gunfire stops, and I wait, and I wait, and I wait. I still have my arms covering my head when I feel a nudge to my side. I turn and look up to see a smiling, normal-looking little girl standing over me.

Boop, she says, then giggles and runs off. Slowly, shakily, I push up onto my hands and knees and surveyed the scene. Everyone is dead. Lindstrom, her team, Dr. Klondike, they are human shrapnel sprayed across the walls, dripping from the ceiling, pooling on the floor. I am coated in them. I don't want to be here anymore. I whisper.

We want out, a voice says, and I spin around and around and around, desperate to find the source. I can't do that, I say and hold my hands up. Please don't explode me. I just can't let you out. I don't know how. And even if I did, they'd kill you above. They would try. They would fail.

But I can make this life amazing for you. Anything and everything you want. Anything and everything? Within reason, I'm not getting. you hookers and cocaine or stuff like that. A giggle, and I stopped spinning. The little girl stands before me. We don't need any of that.

We just need respect, Senator. Her voice is too mature for her body, and I frown at her. Are you the remnant? In a way, yes, but mostly no. Who are you? I look around. Why did you do this to them? Do what to who?

The bodies, the blood, the mess disappears. I look down at myself, and my suit is clean and crisp. Or as much as it can be after the day I am having. I know the sweat stains I'm making will be nearly impossible to get out. You don't wash away fierce sweat. Or that's what our cleaning staff will tell me when we return home. What's your name? I ask, the little girl. I'm sorry, Senator, but that is classified, she replies with a wicked grin.

Then the grin slips away. Did you learn anything today, Senator? I don't know, I reply. She frowns. Hard. I mean, yes, yes. I did learn something today. And what is that?

Tell me exactly what you learned. I clear my throat, just like the doctor. Her grin returns. I learned that you are not a freak. I learned that children are still children, no matter how dangerous they may be. Yes. And what else?

That locking you deep, deep down here is not a solution to the problem. And what is the problem? Power. You all have so much power that it scares everyone. Everyone, Senator? Or just you? I know who your son is. I know what he is capable of. You did not get involved in Montauk until after he was born, until he showed you and your wife what he can really do. So, I ask again, is everyone afraid of us?

or is it just you? Both, but yes, I'm afraid. I'm terrified. Every single day I live in fear that someone will anger him or hurt him, or that something will just rub him the wrong way and... And what? And he'll destroy us all. He may well could, but not down here,

and not if he is happy, especially not if we are all happy. My head hurts from the images and from the conversation with the little girl. I reach up to find blood leaking from both nostrils. Please stop, I say. I understand now. I get it. You don't want to be down here.

And my son doesn't want to come down here. But it is best. It truly is. Only if you actually make it the best it can be for all of us down here. Think about that the next time you are in your appropriations committee, will you, Senator? We all know why you are here. It is time you did too. My head is filled with images of children having fun and playing and learning and just being regular children, not test subjects.

I see my son smiling, and I realize I don't know the last time he did that. Okay, yes, I will. I wince and put my hand to my nose. The blood is pouring out. Oh dear, I have gone too far. I am sorry for that. She holds up her fingers, ready to snap them. Don't forget our conversation.

Snap. My eyes shoot open, and the red light around me disappears. I stumble, but Master Chief Lindstrom is there to catch me as I step off the circular plate. What the hell? I gasp and look about as she studies me on my feet. How am I out here again? I am standing in the space at the very end of the dark corridor. The space between us and the main reception area of Montauk is wide open.

I look in and see the kindly grandma at the desk wave at me. Then both sets of security doors close, and I am left with Lindstrom, her team, and Dr. Klondike. You good, Senator? Lindstrom asks. Yes, yes, I am fine, I say and put my hand to my nose. Tacky blood comes away, and Lindstrom smiles as she hands me a small pack of tissues. Thanks. As you can see, Senator, Dr. Klondike says, his voice.

firm and steady. We do not actually allow live tours. It takes months of mental conditioning before anyone steps into the facility proper. All we had to do is open the doors, and you were exposed to our founding subject. She showed you everything you saw, the good, the bad, the ugly. She showed you what can go wrong. She showed you that. There by the grace of our subjects, go we. I apologize for the subterfuge, but it was the only way you could fully He experienced the gravity of what we do. All I can do is nod. We all know why we are here.

It is time you did too. The little girl's mature words echoed through my mind. The gravity. Yes, I understand. Your wife and son are waiting upstairs. Would you like to join them now, Senator? Linstram asks. Yes, please, I say. Very much. Then let us return to the surface, Dr. Klondike says. Master Chief?

Lindstrom and her team lead us down the corridor and into the elevator lobby. The elevator doors are open and waiting. Is this real? I whisper. Very much so, Dr. Klondike says. He gestures for me to get on the elevator. I pause, then step on. As the doors close, I turn and see Lindstrom smiling. She gives me a wink before I lose sight of her.

I can only imagine what she thinks of me. The elevator rises. and we ride in silence. Dr. Klondike doesn't clear his throat once. When we reach the surface, the doors open with a happy ding, and I hurry out of the car. My own security team meets me,

and I can see the worry on their faces, even behind those impenetrable sunglasses they wear. I'm fine, I say, heading off any drama. Your wife and son are this way, Dr. Klondike says, and leads me to the holding room where I had left them earlier. My 10-year-old boy is sleeping curled up on two chairs, his head on my wife's lap.

Her hand strokes his hair while she reads something on her phone. She looks up when I come in, and I put my finger to my lips. I'm okay. No need to wait the boy, I say. Her eyes shift to Dr. Klondike. The tour can be overwhelming at times, he says. Is it safe for Richard? She asks, then looks down at our son.

Should we rethink? It is perfectly safe for your son, Mrs. Ruiz. In fact, it's probably the safest place there is for a boy like him. Dr. Klondike responds. Especially with all of the upgrades and changes your husband has agreed to get funded. If only my daughter had been so lucky when she first arrived. The voice. The familiar voice down there.

The girl's voice that was too mature for her size. I look at Dr. Klondike, and he meets my eyes. Oh, I'm so sorry, doctor, my wife says, alarmed. Did she pass here? No, no, she is fine and healthy, he says. In fact, she runs the place almost as much as I do. She makes it as comfortable for them as possible. She only wants for them, for your son, what she didn't have in the beginning.

I didn't know, I say to him. Then I look at my son. He'll be fine here. Happy. Yes, he'll be happy. I meet my wife's gaze. I promise. She studies me, and I let her. Then she nods.

Thank you, Dr. Klondike says. Of course, I say. Then I laugh. But next time you want more funds, just send me a memo. No need for the theatrics. He shrugs and says, We all have our reasons, don't we, Senator? Yes, yes, we do.

I go to my son and gently shake his shoulder. Hey, bud, someone is here to show you to your news. I glance back at Dr. Klondike. He smiles. To your new school. Ready to meet your new classmates? The boy rubs his eyes and nods at me as I pick him up. I hold out my hand to my wife. Come on, I'll show you. It's quite something. Then I look at Dr. Klondike. But I think we can do without the spectacle this time, yes? Of course, Senator.