Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - The Collection

Episode Date: December 14, 2020

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We found the naked body face down in the park, exactly where the college students said it would be. Pieces of bones stuck out the sides of the mouth like mandibles. The arms were twisted and broken to resemble antennae. Other body parts from a second body sewn on haphazardly, but also with the craftsmanship of a surgeon, were sticking out from the abdomen and waist, bent up to mimic the legs of a stick insect. The bottom half was just as grotesque. Legs bent backwards with bones protruding the kneecaps and thighs. Bits of teeth designed to replicate a hardened shell upon the man's back.

Perhaps the worst part was that he had no skin. He had been stripped down to the muscle, like a piece of meat. And then it was used as sort of a leathery exoskeleton for the torso and to cover the facial features. My partner excused himself to vomit the moment he saw the nightmarish abomination. But all that concerned me was the latest clue. Written in the victim's blood was the Latin name of the newest species to enter the collection, Andulay reverendous, likely telling me that the deceased was a priest of some kind.

This would make five and under two months that we had attempted to tackle. None of them solved. All of them relating to the mysterious serial killer who left only these tags as a moniker. It was clear that his MO resonated with the most sickening deformations of the human body, and also a love for insects in general, thus why the media had assigned him such a casual name. But each time I came to one of these crime scenes, it felt more like a taunt. I'm a damn good detective, but this was the work of a true madman.

So far, only two of the victims marched with missing persons in the tri-state area, which meant he was careful and meticulous. Our county profiler said that it was likely he studied his prey for months before choosing to attack, because there was never a shred of blood that linked back to anyone outside of the crime, scene, not a piece of skin, not even a hair follicle. This sicko was a ghost and he knew it. Now with body stitched together and put on display, he was getting bolder. That actually made me a little excited, because a criminal that takes more and more risks is also prone to making mistakes. The ME showed up about 15 minutes later and confirmed this was a quick swab around the

bones that were sticking from the victim's jaws. These aren't human, he said. What are they then? I asked. Afraid I'm not quite sure. Seemed to be from some large dog. Possibly a mastiff? He suggested. Dogs like that are rare around here. There's a chance that it belonged to someone. And if so, it likely would have had a tracker installed, I said excitedly.

It was the first lead we'd had. I tried to keep my spirits from soaring. I didn't want to jinx this into being a red herring. But sure enough, the next day the report came back and confirmed it. A man by the name of Julian West had owned the animal. Looks like this fellow was a bit of a recluse, Joseph, my partner, commented after doing a quick internet search. According to the limited data he had dug up, Julian was a businessman from outside of New Orleans, that had retired a few years back after an unfortunate accident.

Now he rarely ever came out in public, and he lived in a more remote portion of the Louisiana Bayou. We attempted to make contact several times that day with no result. Our only option was to drive out, to speak with Mr. West, and see what information he could provide. We should go out tonight while this is still fresh, Joseph suggested. My date had already canceled for the night, so I obliged him, and we made the road trip in a little under an hour. When we finally did arrive,

I felt a bit intimidated at the size of Mr. West's home. It reminded me of a southern Gothic downtown abbey, sprawling and dominating every part of the bayou around us. Joseph hopped out and buzzed the front gate as I kept staring at the dimly lit windows. It was hard to believe that he lived here alone, but the entire place gave me the vibe of a haunted house. Once inside the vestibule, we moved up to the front door,

and I pressed the ring doorbell before commenting. Well, at least we know he's not technologically impaired. The webcam activated before my partner could get a reply, and a sharp hoarse voice asked. Who is this? Detective Arlington and Trent, we are here to ask you a couple of questions about your missing pet. It's concerning a homicide, I said, waving my badge at the camera.

There was a short pause and then the voice bark. Come into my parlor. The door creeped open to reveal a dusty and undisturbed hallway. Joseph took out his flashlight and illuminated our steps. Kind of creepy. He admitted as we walked into the wide foyer. Massive spider webs hung from the pillars. There was little to no sign of life anywhere.

I'll check upstairs. You take the first floor, I told him. He nodded, too freaked out to argue. I made my way to the top of the steps. There was a portrait of Mr. West hanging there, and what I assumed was the prime of. of his youth. He looked happy and content. Of course, it was hard to tell, since the majority of the painting was trashed and scratched up like a wild animal had been set loose.

Have you ever heard the story of Dorian Gray? A voice asked, breaking my reverie. It was coming from the nearby bedroom. There wasn't a speck of light, and as I approached the shadowy entrance, the voice added, please keep it dark. I'm not a fan of the light any longer. The accident and scarred my coronas. I obliged him and stepped inside the room. Dorian Gray was a fictional character. He had a magical portrait that kept him young forever as long as he didn't look at it, I said, answering his initial inquiry.

In some ways, I have sheltered myself here from the world for the same reason. I feel like if I were to expose myself, then the facade would make everything crumble, he rasped. What is it that you hope to hide? I asked. I believe you suspect the answer to that detective. but now that I have you where I want you, why don't you see for yourself? He remarked.

I hesitated, a sense of foreboding overwhelming my body. But still, I chose to raise the light up and peer at him. It was not the nightmare I expected, but it was something far worse. The man that was Julian West was gone. That much was clear in the faint light. In his place was an amalgamation of body strewn together to form a mixed-up Frankenstein-esque monster.

He now had four arms. arms emerging from his chest and twisted together to form a praying mantis-like pinchers, and six separate legs protruding from his lower body the way that a massive scorpion would. He even had the tail of such a creature, except that his seemed to be pierced together by the bones and tissues of other victims. My God, man, I said in shock. He smiled broadly, showing his extra rows of teeth as he cackled. You must know by now why I brought you here, if not to showcase my collection.

I felt my feet fall from under me. like some kind of trapdoor was sprung, then my hands and legs became entangled in a mesh of silk and drool. It was another massive spider web, and below me I saw a pile of corpses, except they weren't dead at all. These were more abominations that West had made in this dreadful hell, all shrieking and clamoring toward me the way a shark would for a meal. I struggled to free myself, my firearm falling from my belt as I began to run. I scrambled up the side of the pit, using bits of bone that were sticking out to escape. One of the creatures last time, it spanged piercing my neck as I flung it away and raced to the door. I shouted out to Joseph as West continued to cackle with glee.

You're too late now! These beautiful creations have already spread far beyond these walls. Soon all the world would be a part of my display. He shouted madly. I tripped at the entrance, falling straight into the open cavity of my partner. A million maggots burst from his skin, having devoured him in near minutes as I pushed back and fled in terror. I didn't stop running until I made it 10 miles down the road. Then I contacted my precinct captain to obtain a warrant for the house. Joseph Death was the nail in the coffin. We went to raid the house less than three hours later.

But as we drove up, I saw amid the trees a glow of embers. The mansion was ablaze. It took another hour to douse the fire, and we found literally hundreds of massive maltings and skins from the creatures. Guess he decided to end it after all, my captain told me. But I wasn't so sure because of something else I found amid the wreckage, or rather what I realized was missing, the portrait. He was still out there somewhere. I scratched the back of my neck where the creature had bit me and winced.

Then amid the burnt remnants of Joseph's body, I saw that familiar tag the serial killer used. But the upper portion of my partner was missing, ripped away like a prize would be by a toy crane. Another addition to the collection. Thanks for listening. If you're tuning in on Apple Podcast, please take a minute to leave a review. Your review directly helps the podcast grow and allows me to continue coming out with the best horror stories on the Internet. Thank you so much. Lazzang surgelley, puissance-molyne, for 15 minutes.

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