Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - The Insidious Series | Part 1

Episode Date: July 29, 2021

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Everything was still too raw. Davion knew that better than anyone, so if he thought we needed to take a look, it meant it was serious. I grabbed the file and opened it up. Can you give me an overview while I look through the documents? Davian pulled out the chair on the other side of the desk and sat down with a sigh.

Of course, he said. The documents in the file were in an envelope that had been shoved through the mail slot. After I skimmed through them, I knew I needed to open a file. The only communication with whoever left this is the note on top. I nodded, reading the note. We've been trying to handle this the normal way.

It isn't working. Nothing is working. My husband is against trying supernatural stuff. Says it's the work of the devil. I'm desperate. We need help. I can pay. Please look over the documents here and be me tomorrow at 2.30 p.m. at La Boulangerie.

I'll be wearing a red cap. Don't call. My husband will forbid this if he finds out. Francine Maciel. So, we know Francine here's in a bit of a pickle, but the note doesn't tell us what the pickle is. The rest of the stuff in the folder will help clear some of that stuff up. There's the usual photos of strange phenomenon

that are never as revealing or shocking as people think, a copy of a letter from the principal of Oak Meadows Junior High School that details a sudden change in behavior of one Anthony Duplais. From the context of the letter, it sounds like Anthony is Francine's stepson. His father, Carmichael de Plais, is Francine's husband and his mother. Genevieve de Charm died three years ago. Car Michael and Genevieve split two years before her death. I found all that through some internet sleuthing. Pronounce of the news articles are in the file. I'm surprised all their personal business was that easily accessible,

I said. We lucked out that Carmichael is mildly wealthy, just enough that people want to read about the torrid bits of his personal life on gossip sites. I heft. Sometimes I found the beings I cast out to be less repulsive than the people I shared a planet with. Anyway, Davion continued. What's noteworthy is that Genevieve died under mysterious circumstances. A neighbor heard screams and call the cops.

When they got there, they found Genevieve dead. She was in the tub. It seemed she'd settled in for a bath. bruising around her throat made it easy to determine that it was death by strangulation. What really confused the investigators was that all the doors and windows were locked and deadbolted from the inside. No one could have gotten out without leaving something unlocked, but you'll never guess the really weird part. Davian paused, clearly wanting me to ask, which is, the coroner noticed the bruise didn't look right. It should be a specific shape based on the shape of hands, fingers on the outside, thumbs crossing the middle.

This looked almost the opposite of that. So she did some unorthodox examining and discovered that the bruising and the positioning matched perfectly with Genevieve's hands. She strangled herself with her own hands. Fascinating, I said. That should be almost impossible. Exactly. you'd pass out before death, the muscles would relax, and you'd stop choking yourself. And Genevieve wasn't exactly muscular. She was very thin and petite, with minimal musculature. She shouldn't have even had the physical capacity to strangle herself, even if she could

maintain consciousness. Choking someone to death is a surprisingly strenuous task. So you found all that in your research? Goods and pieces, but Francine actually included the police report in the file. I was curious at first, but then I noticed she had circled the date of Genevieve's death in the report, did some digging back through the rest of the material, and saw that the date very close corresponds with the date of Anthony's sudden shift in behavior. That makes perfect sense, though, I said. His mom dies. He's struggling to deal with it. That comes out as problematic behavior. Really sad, but unbearably normal. I agree. Not quite the smoking gun I imagine Francine thinks it is.

Then let's cut straight to the point, I said. Why do you think we should take this case on now of all times? Genevieve took her mother's maiden name when she turned 18 to try to distance herself from her father. It wasn't that he was abusive, as far as I know, at least. But his name definitely garners some notoriety. Genevieve's original last name was Debonneville. Genevieve Debonneville.

Don't tell me she was the daughter. of Pierre de Bonvillain? Exactly that. I could see why she'd want to distance herself from that name. Imagine being the daughter of the man who started the sect of devotion. No kidding, Davian said. Poor girl. I nodded.

But I still don't see why that makes this urgent business for us. The sect of devotion was a deeply problematic cult, but it was all a bunch of flash with no substance. I was looking into them a bit when I found out that Genevieve's father was Pierre de Bonneville, went down the research rabbit hole, while studying some images of one of their ceremonies to their supposed higher power, Torovs. Always thought that was a stupid name.

While I was working on that, I had to pee. Really glad you're sharing that. Oh, hush. Anyways, when I stood up, I saw the image in the mirror, and it stopped me fucking cold. Hopefully, you still made it to the bathroom in time? What was so much more disturbing about the ceremony when, viewed in reverse. To roves.

In the mirror, I saw it backwards. We should have thought of it sooner. A being from a backwards realm would play with mirror images. The cult of devotion was worshipping Savorat. Oh, shit. I was 15 minutes early for my rendezvous with Francine, but I saw a woman with a red cap already there. Francine?

I asked. The woman looked up at me. she had dark bags under her eyes, which was the only color on her otherwise sickly pale face. Are you the investigator? She asked, her thick Quebec accent immediately apparent, I am. My name is Melissa. Francine nodded and motioned to the chair across from her at the small two-person table. I pulled it out and sat down.

I looked at her, waiting for her to begin. When she said nothing while studying the cup of tea in front of her, I realized she might need some prompting. I read the documents you left for us, I said. Francine nodded, but said nothing. Francine, I'll need you to communicate with me if I'm going to be able to help you. I said, I thought I could talk about it.

But when I try it like something has a grasp on my throat and squeezes it so tight the words can't slip out, maybe I can just show you. It isn't far. Come with me. Before I could respond, Francine stood up from the table and began to walk towards the door. I saw her tea, still steaming, left behind on the table. Forgotten.

I had no choice. If I wanted to pursue this case, I couldn't lose my only source of information. I stood up and hurriedly walked after Francine. She pushed through the door and walked out onto the sidewalk. I hustle to catch up with her. Francine, I said, where are you taking me? Not much further, she said, not actually answering my question. At the nearest intersection, Francine turned left, heading into the older part of the city.

Francine, seriously, where are we going? One block up. Then we take a left into the alley by a bookstore. I can show you more of what my family is dealing with there. Think of it as the first breadcromb to follow on the path to the witch's house, and you are Gretel. That's not actually how the story goes, but I get the metaphor. you're trying to make. Fantastic.

Then follow me. We made it to the bookstore and then headed down the alley. The alley hooked behind another building before turning at again, and I realized that we were at a dead end that was completely hidden from the road. Something didn't feel right. Francine, what's... My voice caught in my throat. It was Francine's eyes.

They were completely white. No iris, no pupil. just clouds of white seemingly moving with some unknown current just below the surface. She turned to look at me, and when her eyes looked into mine, I felt a chill pass over me. It felt like being frozen from the inside, like my heart was chilled while my skin still felt the warmth of the sun. I could feel it spreading to my lungs. I couldn't move. My brain seemed too frozen to function to tell my legs to take steps, to run away from this danger. Then the sound of footsteps distracted Francine.

She glanced away, and it was just enough to let me crack the ice inside me and regain control. I whipped around toward the sound. Davion came running into the cul-de-sac. The thing is, a lot of times people seem to assume that because I work in the field of the supernatural, I must be a kook. And if I'm a kook, I must be stupid. I'm sure me being a woman doesn't make a positive impact in many people's estimations, either. But if you were to ask any of the entities I fought, which you can't because I dispelled all of them,

you'll find that planning and strategy are my strongest qualities. That said, you don't have to be a master strategist to know not to go meet a stranger alone. Davion is always my lookout for meetings. He'd been scoping out this scene for almost an hour before my assigned meetup time. When we left, I knew he would wait a minute and then follow us. I'd been afraid we lost him in the alleys, but Davion is shone. sharp and has a nose for stalking people. Luckily, he uses that power for good. Unluckily, he can't see around corners. Davian tore around the corner, not realizing we had stopped at a dead end.

Francine turned on him and locked stairs. The freezing I had been feeling before must have hit him, because I saw his eyes glaze over as he stumbled and crashed to the ground. He lay there, unmoving. I screamed and ran at Francine. I rammed straight into her. Francine's feet came out from under her as she fell, slamming down into the alleyway. There was a sickening hollow crack at that, based on the blood pouring out of her scalp. I could only assume was Francine's skull connecting with the asphalt. I staggered from the blow, but was able to keep my balance.

Looking around, I ran over to where Davian lay on the ground. Sliding my knees next to him, I checked his body. He was shivering, despite being warm to the touch, and there was a bruise on his cheek, where he must have hit when he crashed to the ground. He wasn't conscious, but his breathing was steady. The sound of grit moving against asphalt caught my attention, and I looked back over my shoulder.

Francine was getting up. Her face was covered in blood rolling down from her hairline. I quickly rummaged in my pockets and pulled out the only defense I had. Two small batons with buttons about a third of the way from the end I was holding. I ran at Francine, who was just staggering to her feet. With a powerful swing of her arm, she swatted me across me. the upper arm and sent my body flying across the alley to slam to the back of a brick building. The pain was extraordinary. I felt something's pop and crack when my body connected with the building

and everything got even more stirred up when I fell to a slump on the ground. I needed to get back up, but the pain was overwhelming me. I needed to buy some time. Fortunately in my experience, most of these beings like to talk. I know this isn't you, Francine, I gasped. So who is in charge of Francine's body. A different voice emerged from Francine's mouth, one that was deep and sharp, filled with the gravel of aeon spent somewhere else. The voice was terrifying on its own, but it wasn't just the voice that made my hands tremble. I recognized this voice. I had to say it, to make sure, but my voice trembled so bad I barely got it out. Severat? She recognized me. The voice said from Francine's body, I assume.

you would be? The voice laughed. It sounded like a tidal wave of molten metal. Of all the hunches I have slaughtered, you will always be my favorite. I love the fire in you. I was slowly grounding my body in some sense of functionality. I pushed myself up and stood up. I felt like I was wobbling, but I did my best to hide it. You haven't slaughtered me yet, I said. Francine began walking towards me. Her eyes had begun to take on a redder hue, like flows of blood moving in her eye sockets. Her skin became paler before my eyes, the veins standing out in her face, her neck, and her hands. Her nails seemed to elongate into claws as she reached out for me. I tried to move away, but I still hadn't regained all my faculties.

Francine's hand gripped my neck. Her nails piercing my skin and slowly sliding deeper and deeper into the muscles in my neck. I screamed in pain as long. the shredded muscles burned. Francine yanked me closer to her, close enough almost to kiss me and stared into my eyes. Her mouth opened and dark mist

began to pour from her. penetrate your mind, your will, your voice, your body, all will be mine to control. As Francine's face lurched closer to mine, I fought through the pain

and fog in my mind. I swung up the batons and pressed the buttons, A piercing, vibrating note burst from them. It made me immediately nauseous, but the effect on Francine was far more notable. She screamed, and it was a mix of the voice I had heard when we first met, which I assumed was her usual voice, and the voice of Severot. Blood leaked from Francine's eyes, but the color started to return to her skin,

and her nails began to retake a less animalish shape. I am leaving this body for now. Severed spat from Francine's mouth. But this is far from over. You will see me again, and our first encounter will look like child's play compared to the violence. I will commit on your soul.

I will see you at the Diplaglius household, I'm sure. With the final scream, I felt an invisible force rush from Francine's body. She crumpled to the ground, unconscious. I staggered over to the building that budded against the axe. and fell against it. I was afraid if I sat down I wouldn't be able to get back up, but I also knew I couldn't stand under my own power. Davion was alive, but injured.

Francine's body was currently free from Severat's violent usage, but it was likely only an empty shell now, and I was battered, physically and mentally. The first time I fought Severet had ended in tragedy. I don't know how I was able to escape relatively unscathed this time. when he said he was going to be doing terrible things to me in the near future, he meant it. Davian had been right. Anthony Duplias needed our help. I had wanted to block out the horrors of my first fight with Severat, but if I wanted to have any chance to help Anthony, I'm going to need to delve back into the most terrifying moments of my life to search for clues.

I'm not sure my soul will survive this process. Thanks for listening. To get notified every time a new episode, is released, be sure to click the follow or subscribe button and turn on all notifications.