Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - This Prison Wasn't Built for Humans, and I Just Found Out Why

Episode Date: September 22, 2025

Wake up or stay up with NoSleep Coffee! Check out ⁠NoSleepCoffee.com⁠ to get 20% off fresh roasted coffee delivered straight to your door. Just use promo code NOSLEEP20 at checkout for 20% off your first order! There are over 80 bonus episodes waiting for you right now. Unlock them here with Dr. NoSleep Premium: ⁠patreon.com/drnosleep 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.  #drnosleep #scarystories #horrorstories #doctornosleep #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The infernal city is an unforgiving place. The darkness spreads through it, even on the sunniest of days. Not that there are many of those, certainly not here. Here, the first time I laid eyes on Natas Lee Penitentiary for the wicked and deranged was when my mother brought me here as a small boy. I was no more than eight or nine, definitely not ten yet. No, that was a much different year. Much, much different.

The Lee, as it is more commonly known, loomed above my small frame. I clutched my mother's hand with all my strength, terrified by the side of the massive stone and brick building. There are other materials that make up the framework of the building, but I wouldn't discover those until much, much later. Be brave, Amil, she said. Yes, mother. It is only a building. Yes, mother. Inside are people like you and me. Yes, Mother. Some of them are horrible, awful things. Oh, but do not be afraid, because some of them are kind and gentle. They are? Yes, Amel, they are. Then why do they have to be here?

I stared at the edifice and the centuries of lichen and moss that covered the stonework. How could anyone, or anything for that matter, live in such a place? It was horrid. A depressing symbol of indifference to those who built the very city it is supposed to protect. Of course, being eight or nine, I did not have the vocabulary or experience to express myself in such a way. Now, at that time, I would simply have said, it makes me sad. Me too, my love, me too. My father lived in the Lee and had since I was born. My mother told me grand tales of their courtship and their love.

how he had wooed her and wooed her, but she refused to give in. Until one day, she saw past his more animalistic nature and found the man she would fall madly, deeply in love with. It was a process, she would say. A day-by-day awakening. Awakening? I asked in my small voice, for I wasn't even eight or nine at the time of her telling. Yes, my love.

An awakening, like after your nap. You know that feeling of opening your eyes, and you aren't sure where you are, but you know you are where you are supposed to be? I nodded like a good son, despite having no idea what she meant. It didn't matter anyway. My mother was explaining it to herself, more than she was explaining it to me. He refused to give up, and slowly, bit by bit, my heart opened to him. It did? I exclaimed.

Visions of my mother's chest split. down the middle, her heart exposed and beating rapidly, filling my small head. Oh, my love, that is only a saying, she laughed and kissed my forehead. Why did father have to leave? I asked as we sat in silence for a moment. He didn't leave, my love. He was taken. Taken? Taken from us because the city was frightened. How can a city be frightened? Ignorance. Oh. I did not know what ignorance meant at the time, but I do now. I know it firsthand, like a lost glove that is found and still fits perfectly despite

having been left outside in the elements to dampen and dry, dampen and dry. That day, with my hand in my mothers, I braved the massive iron gate and the mean-looking watchman. I braved the long walk up the weed-choked gravel drive, and I braved the e-wraved the ancient lichen and moss covered entrance. That day I entered the Lee and my life changed forever. I am sorry, the headguard said when we checked in at the front desk, which was secured behind a large iron cage from not just the prisoners, but the visitors as well. I do not enjoy this. Enjoy what? My mother asked. I could see she was confused, and by the way her grip on my hand

became tighter and tighter, and knew she was growing upset. Your husband? Well, he passed, the headguard said. The man was terrifying to look at. His nose was a knobby chunk of flesh on his face, sitting just under two beady eyes, with a single brow looming over them all. His skin was pale, too pale, and his teeth were more stains than enamel. But he smiled politely, and despite those teeth, there was warm, in that smile. I am truly sorry, he said, and reached down under his desk to procure a small burlap sack. Here are his possessions.

I remember my mother only standing there, saying nothing, doing nothing. I remember the guard asking if she was all right. Did she need him to call her a taxi? I remember her hand letting go of mine as she fell to her knees, the blank look on her face, finally breaking. I remember the shrieking and the screaming and the crying. Most of the latter was for me as guards and attendance came to try to soothe my mother. I remember her turning to look at me as she said, close your ears, my love, close them tight like I taught you. I remember doing as I was told and sticking my thumbs deep, deep into my ear canals until I felt pain. Then, and I can never

forget this. My mother opened her mouth wide and truly screamed. A guard shouted and pressed a hand to his nose. It was bleeding like a chicken after having been beheaded. Another guard stumbled across the Lee's lobby. His hands pressed to his ears as blood streamed between his fingers. An attendant opened his mouth to cry out, but he never got a chance. His head burst apart right before my eyes. All of their heads burst apart right before my eyes. One after a while. One after another, after another, after another, until only the headguard was left. He looked about at the bloodshed my mother had caused and sighed. I couldn't hear the sigh, but I could see his chest rise and fall. Most of all, I remember the look of honest sorrow on his face. He left his cage,

cudgel in hand, walked to my mother, and struck her once, twice, three times. She fell onto her side, now with a crack in her skull that would never really heal. I remember my mother's blood mixing with out of the guards and attendance. Then, the head guard was crouching before me. He set his bloody cudgel down and gently pulled my thumbs out of my ears. You have suffered great loss today, boy, he said. Do not let it define you. The city can and will provide a decent life for you, if you let it. And I suppose that is the question. Did I let it? or did it take me like it took my father? The second time I laid eyes on the Lee

was my mother's 40th birthday. I was 15. My foster parents, a couple of old trolls who weren't fooling anyone as they tried to play human family, dropped me off at the Iron Gate without so much as a good day.

The same watchman was still working the guardhouse as on the day I'd first arrived with my mother. He sneered at me, spitting tobacco juice at my feet, as I walked up and presented him with my visitation form. While he studied the form, Brown's spit dribbled down his chin. Then he wiped his chin with the form, wadded it up, and threw it on the ground. In with you then, he said, and the iron gate opened wide.

The walk to the front door seemed so much longer than when I was eight or nine. But back then, I had the strength of my mother's hand to move me along. This time I was completely alone. A feeling I had grown more accustomed to day after day, week after week. Oh, it's you, the headguard said when I stepped up to his protective iron cage. He looked down at a clipboard on his desk and nodded. You're on the list. What?

I asked when he looked up at me with worried eyes. I snorted in that teenager way. You're going to tell me my mother is dead too? No, your mother is perfectly fine, he responded. Well, not perfectly fine, if I am being honest. She's alive, so let that be a comfort. What are you not telling me? Before he could speak, a gentleman wearing a decent suit

and a very nice fedora was let out of the massive door set behind the head guard's cage. And that's when she shot me. The man with the fedora said and laughed. The guard showing him out laughed with him. Can you believe that? Knowing you, Peyton. Yeah, I can believe that. the guard said.

Fair enough, fair enough, the fedora man said. Then he caught sight of me and raised an eyebrow. Uh-oh, looks like trouble. He gave me a wink, tipped that fine fedora at me, and walked out of the lee like he owned the place. Don't forget the cookies next time, Peyton! The guard called after him.

Then the guard looked at me, sniffed like I was a pile of dog crap, and returned to his post inside the Lee proper. Who was that? I asked. A local PI, the headguard replied. Good guy, but a pain in the ass. He's got a few clients here, so we see him around a lot. Clients? In the Lee?

Some folks think they have been wrongly incarcerated. Those who still have the means, hire a PI like Peyton to help their cases and get them released. Is that possible? Can I do that? Can I hire him to get my mother out? The headguard smiled, and it was so sad to see on that ugly face. No, kid, I'm sorry. But your mother's case isn't going to be overturned. You were there when it happened. You saw what she did.

I saw it, too. It's unfortunate she must be here. But she was responsible for the deaths of... I know. I snapped. He gave an understanding nod when he could have given me a harsh rebuke for my rudeness. After taking a deep breath, he stood up and walked to the back of his cage, unlocking it so he could come around and take me by the elbow.

We should get on with this. It'll be sundown in two hours, and you should not be in the lee after sundown. I would learn later how right he was on that point. Sundown at the lee is not for the faint of heart. When we entered the lee proper, the guard who'd sniffed at me rolled his eyes. Take the front desk, Stu, the headguard said. What? Nah, I'm at the door all shift, he protested.

Would you rather work the crematory or the refuse bin the rest of the week? Aw man, come on, that's not cool. He said the head guard's name, but I couldn't understand it. It wasn't that I couldn't hear the guard say the name. It was like the head guard's name became a loud buzzing, like a million bees instead. The headguard saw the confusion on my face and smiled. A security ex, he said to me. So no one can get leverage on me.

I am the headguard and first protector of the Lee. If an unseemly sort knew my true name, they could get to my family, my friends. Oh, was all I could say. I didn't have family or friends, so I didn't understand the importance of a threat like that. Why did I hear Stu's name then? Good question, the headguard began, but was quickly interrupted by Stu.

Because here at the Lee, there's a pecking order, he said. And I ain't anywhere near the top. Someone comes from my family or friends in order to coerce me into making trouble. Well, it won't matter much. All I know how's to do is enter through the employee entrance and then get to work. That's an oversimplification. But Stu is not incorrect. The headguard said.

Now, let's get you to your mother, shall we? Good luck, Stu said. She's in a mood today. And I am sure that seeing her son will help with that mood. The headguard responded, giving Stu a harsh look. The man only shrugged in response. The way to the visitation room was a fever dream. I'd later learned that it was intended to be,

so that folks with ill intent would feel like the rug was pulled out from underneath them. The Lee has a lot to teach if you listen. We went through another huge door and into a long corridor. On either side were open cells, all empty. I began to ask about them, but the headguard placed a finger to his lips, telling me to stay quiet. I didn't argue, because as we walked, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. The cells weren't as unoccupied as I'd thought.

Yet when I turned my head, I saw no one or a thing in any of them. Well done, Edgard said to me when we stepped through yet another huge door, leaving the maybe empty cells behind. Those who speak to the phantoms can become lost instantly. Then why have them so close to the front? We layered the security here at the Lee, as all he said. The next corridor was empty. No cells, no doors.

Nothing but long stone walls that stretched on forever. By the time we reached the end, I would have sworn a year had passed, and I turned 16. But the second we entered the next corridor, that feeling was gone, shoved away by the site before me. Picture this. It's late at night. You're scrolling, and suddenly you find exactly what you've been looking for. You add it to your cart, maybe browse a little more than head to checkout, only to realize you don't have your wallet. But then you see it, that purple shop pay button, and just like that, you're done in seconds. That's the power.

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Sign up for your $1 per month trial today at Shopify.com slash DNS. Go to Shopify.com slash DNS. That's Shopify.com slash DNS. Welcome to the Lee, the headguard said, as I stared at the endless rows and levels of prison cells. But how? I asked. It was a fair question since from the outside, the lee was four stories.

This, what was before me, had endless stories, all stretching up and up and up, until all I could see was darkness. Layers of security, the head guard said. Now, stay close to me. The visitation room for your mother is down this way. Why not have it closer to the front, instead of those phantom cells? We do have one up front. Just not for prisoners like your mother. He shook his head and clapped me on the shoulder. Too dangerous, son, for everyone.

I nodded to the headguard like I understood, which I did in a way. You don't know self-loathing until you have your father taken from you, only for him to die in prison, then to have your mother taken from you and placed in that very same prison that was your father's tomb. My family was a dangerous family, and the city had to be protected. As we walked, eyes of many colors and shapes and sizes watched me. Angry eyes, terrified eyes, sad eyes, pleading eyes, hungry eyes. Hey, reneur!

Why don't you bring that fine young lad over here? A man wearing a ceramic mask shouted as we walked by his cell. He knows your name, I whispered. Aren't you worried he'll tell someone? Who will he tell? No one ever leaves the lee. I stopped in my tracks. What?

He sighed and I heard the instant regret. You didn't know. No what? What does that mean? No one never leaves the Lee. Exactly as it sounds, son. Once you were sent to the Lee, you stay at the Lee forever. This is not a rehabilitation facility.

This is a penitentiary for the wicked and deranged. The wicked and the deranged do not get better. That's crap! I shouted. My mother will get better. The cells erupted in laughter and shouts. I was mocked and insulted for my exclamation. I'll be your mother, kid.

Give me five minutes with your mother, and I'll make her better. You tell them, kid, it's crap, all crap, crap, all they crap. You need a daddy, too, kid. You ain't your daddy, lamb. And he tasted delicious. Quiet. The head guard barked, and every single voice stopped instantly. That's better.

He took me by the arm and got me moving again. Come on, we shouldn't waste any more time. The rest of the way to the visitation room was a haze. When the headguard led me into the small, cramped space, he pointed at a chair and said, Sit, hurry now, you only have a few minutes left. Minutes? I was supposed to have an hour! I cried.

It's been almost an hour. Time is fickle in the lee. I didn't understand what he meant, but I understand now. I sat and he stood behind me. Open, he said. The wall before me slid away, squeaking as it moved on an old, rusty track.

The room was suddenly double in space and sitting across for me, her arms and legs strapped to her chair, a heavy, thick muzzle across her mouth, was my mother. Mom! I exclaimed. Her eyes tracked slowly, then fell on my face. I couldn't see the frown on her lips, but I could see it in her eyes.

She didn't know who I was. Mom? Give her a moment, the headguard said. But we don't have a moment! The confusion in my mother's eyes began to dissipate. Then her eyebrows shot up, and she started to thrash in her seat. None of that, Miss Lily, the headguard said. Be calm and you can speak with your boy.

He swallowed hard. He can speak to you, I mean. He nudged my shoulder. Go on, son. Mom, what happened to you? I asked as I studied her appearance. My mother had been full of life and beauty. She was vibrant and active,

and had energy that our friends and neighbors wanted to be around. It was what drew my father to her. But the woman before me was none of that. This woman wore a soiled night shirt, barely modest enough not to embarrass me. Her hair was stringy and unkept. I could see the knots and tangles, haloing her face. Her skin was bone white, and the bags under her eyes had bags under them, cascading down

until they were lost from sight below the thick muzzle. Is she sick? I asked. Not in the way you are asking, no. But she is not well either. Mom, I wanted to come see you and say, she waited, completely still now. I wanted to say that I'm doing fine, and you don't need to worry about me. That was a lie that I doubted she believed. Mothers know these things.

My original plan was to tell her how horrible my foster parents were. I was going to talk to her about my plans for when she got out, and we could be together again. How I'd get a job and support us, and how she could stay home and relax. No more stress for her. I'd be the one taking care of everything. But as I looked upon her sad state,

and the reality that no one left the Lee set in, I knew my dream was only empty thoughts and wishes. The trolls I live with take good care of me, another lie. And I'm doing great at school. A massive whopper, since I hadn't been to school in over a year. I even plan on starting a trade once I graduate. Except for the graduate part, it wasn't exactly a lie, since my foster parents told me I had to get a job or get out,

and I couldn't afford to live on my own yet. She went along with my fantasies, nodding in the right places. I pictured her brilliant smile behind that muzzle, even though I knew she wasn't smiling. No one could smile in her state. Five minutes, the head guard announced. My mother began to thrash again. Miss Lily, please don't waste the minutes. She calmed, and her eyes locked onto mine.

I saw everything in there. Her love for me, her hate for the lee. That was when the plan started to piece together in my head. I don't know what I said for the rest of my time with her, except for my parting words. I won't leave you alone in here, Mom. I promise. The shouts and insults were only half-hearted, as the headguard led me away, and we retraced our steps to the main lobby. She can't ever leave, the headguard said to me, now back in his cage and seated behind his desk. Stu was happy to give up the seat.

You know that, right? I know, I said, but he didn't understand what I meant by my promise. For weeks and months after that visit, I would wake up with nightmares of phantoms and empty cells and prisoners wanting to be my daddy. I saw eyes and bars and straps and muzzles, but I never dreamed about my mother. She never made an appearance during my troubled sleep. The years went by. I visited her regularly when I wasn't working for the refuse department,

hauling trash away from brownstones that I could never afford to live in. By the time I was old enough to escape the troll's house, I had saved a decent amount so I could get a small apartment on the poor edge of the grove. The moans and screeches that came from those woods took some getting used to, but so do most things in the infernal city. Mom, guess what? I said to her one afternoon as she sat, strapped in her chair, muzzle firmly in place.

Her eyebrows rose. I got a new job. Guess where? She tilted her head. Here! I'm going to be an attendant here at the Lee! I can see you every day now. Isn't that great? From the way she went berserk, I sensed that she didn't think it was great. She broke one arm's strap and started to claw at her muzzle. Guards streamed in from the door behind her and tried to subdue her, but they had almost no effect. For the first time since she had been taken from me, I actually feared my mother. What would happen if she got her muzzle off and screamed, like she did that day when we learned of my father's passing?

I was about to jam my thumbs into my ears when a voice howled. Miss Lily, that is enough. I looked over my shoulder at the head guard. He gave me a nod, then strode past me. In all the years I had visited, I had never seen him cross that line. He never stepped onto that side of the sliding wall. If you do not behave, then what will happen to your son? He asked as he got closer.

If he is to work here, he'll need all the protection he can get. And you want him protected, don't you, Miss Lily? She slowed and stopped her fight. I could tell by the way the guards held themselves that they wanted nothing more than to hurt my mother, to teach her a lesson for fighting them. But I could also tell that they feared the headguard more than anything. Most quickly left.

A few who stayed, backed up against the wall, and gave the headguard and my mother plenty of space. You know how the Lee can be, Miss Lily, he said, his voice a soothing drone. It must accept those who dwell and work here. If it sees how upset you are, do you think it will accept your son? Her eyes shot from me to the headguard.

I saw fury and hatred in those eyes. Then slowly, as the headguard remained before her, the look changed to her. resignation and, finally, acceptance. She nodded. Very good, Miss Lily, Edgard said. Unfortunately, you know what happens now. She nods again.

I am sorry, Miss Lily, but the Leaas rules. She nodded again. Then her eyes fell on me, and I saw the love in them. I'll be back, Mom, I said. We'll see each other a lot from now on. She didn't nod. The headguard glanced at the other guards, and they cautiously moved forward, wary of my mother's free arm. She didn't fight them as they secured her and walked her out of the visitation room.

But she did give me a last glance over her shoulder, and I saw the worry in her eyes. Come on, son, the headguard said. Let's get you out of here. You shall have plenty of time in the lee. No need to waste your freedom now. Waste my freedom? He didn't reply, and I wondered about those words for days. Then I started my work at the Lee.

An attendant isn't a guard or a nurse, or even a custodian. An attendant attends. To the needs of the guards, the needs of the prisoners, and, as I would find out, the needs of the Lee itself. I did laundry and washed and folded a thousand sheets. I wrung towels out before placing them in the massive machine. Best to get as much of the more unseemly liquids out first, so they don't taint the rest of the laundry.

I mopped out cells as they became empty, never once learning where the previous occupants had gone. If no one ever left the lee, then an empty cell couldn't be a good thing. However, visiting my mother proved more difficult than I had expected. For some reason, the head guard was keeping me away from her. I was granted the occasional visit, but not the daily interaction I was hoping for. When I asked, he would only say,

It's not for me to decide. Then who does decide that? The warden? I've never met the warden. Where is he? Can I ask him? There is no warden at the lee, son, was his response. And that was that.

It was infuriating. I hadn't gotten the job of rinsing out bloody bedsheets or wringing out mucus and crusted towels for the fun of it, and it wasn't like the pay was going to change my life. No, I had taken the job to be close to my mother, and they weren't allowing that to happen. My dreams became rushed and violent, barely remembering their substance.

I'd waken the night, coated in sweat, with images of large teeth and thick fur flitting across my exhausted mind. They became so frequent and disturbing, despite my lack of memory upon waking, that I dreaded even like. laying my head on my pillow. I believe the headguard noticed my exhaustion, but never said anything. He would give me a friendly nod and smile when I walked by his cage, his eyes lingering on me a little longer than usual. On Wednesdays, I waxed the lobby floors with a substance that smelled

like beetle dung, which shined up those floors like nothing else I had ever seen. I could bend over and catch a perfect reflection of my own face, staring back. It was during one of those staring sessions that I learned something important. The Lee weren't built for humans. My foster mother, the larger of the trolls, used to tell me, makes it perfect for you, Amel.

I didn't know what she meant then, but after several weeks of washing and fetching and scraping and scrubbing and waxing, I finally found out. Hello, Emil, my reflection said to me. I have been watching you. That's a strange

thing for your reflection to say to you. and a little obvious, if you ask me. No need to be alarmed, it continued. This is all perfectly normal here at the Lee. While I wouldn't classify it as perfectly normal, it wasn't an inaccurate statement. The Lee was a place where wonders and nightmares intermingled on a daily basis,

where a helmeted Gorgon could play chess with an elderly leprechaun, and you wouldn't blink twice. In the Lee, if you didn't see an apparition walking through the street, stone walls at least once a week, you had to wonder if perhaps a mass exorcism had occurred on your day off. Not that I got days off. My five days a week became six days a week, became seven days a week. I was working every single day, from dawn to dusk, basically making it home in time to eat a small dinner and go to bed so I could get up and do it all over again. That schedule

didn't help my souring mood at being denied more time with my mother. And my reflection knew that. You are getting close, Amel, it said, so close that I can feel it in you. I wanted to speak, but I swallowed the words, knowing the head guard would hear me. He pretended like he didn't notice me, but I knew he watched me closely. He watched everyone closely. Good boy, my reflection said. Let's keep this between us.

I gave an imperceptible nod, my reflection smiled. Do you know why I picked you, Amil? shook my head. You don't? Are you sure? I could see the amusement on its face, knowing I couldn't fully answer. Because I have watched you grow from that scared little boy into the strong and powerful young man who stands upon my freshly waxed floor. And a splendid job you have done, by the way. Best wax, it's received in years.

I shuffled uncomfortably since I wasn't used to getting compliments. Have you been sleeping a meal? Have the dreams started up? It waved to hand. Of course they have. You're of that age. I bet your father had the same type of dreams when he was young like you. I frowned.

Oh yes, I knew your father. Very well, in fact. We spent many an evening conversing about his life and his love for his family. It was so unfortunate that he could not survive here with me. He was a strong, strong beast, but in the end, he wasn't strong enough, was he? That word, beast. It felt like a knife being jammed through my ear canal and straight into my brain. You don't know, my reflection stated.

Which is why I brought you here before your life takes a turn for the worse. And it will take a turn for the worse, Emil. For your kind, it always does. especially when you find love. You suppress your true nature for your amour. It's a tale as old as time. But what isn't told in that tale is that suppressing that nature will lead to your downfall. The confusion on my face must have been obvious,

because my reflection laughed and laughed. Not to worry, Emil, you are with me now, and those who are with me will always thrive. No need to fear all that fur and all those teeth. Meal? the headguard asked. Are you okay? Yes, fine, I said way too quickly. When I looked over at the cage, the headguard was staring at me with sad eyes.

Ah, so that's how it is, he said nodding to himself. Well, bound to happen someday. What is bound to happen? I asked. I glanced down, and my reflection was smiling a curious smile. What is going on? Might as well get this over. over with now. No need to wait for some symbolic moment. The Lee does love its symbolic moments. The headguard stood up from his desk, took off his uniform jacket, and set it on the back of his chair.

He emptied his pockets, setting his wallet and watch and other due dads onto the desk. Be sure that my family gets these, please, he says. Not that I have seen them lately. It has been such a long time. A very long time, my reflection said. I said, what are you talking about? He doesn't respond, only walked it to the cage door, unlocked it, and stepped out. Aren't you going to lock it back up? He said as he circled the cage and came toward me. I won't be returning.

No, he won't, a reflection said. Then it snorted at me. He may want to remove your clothes, O'Neill. It saves the sunsets. supply room from having to order a new uniform. Will someone please tell me what's going on? I cried. No, the headguard said.

No one will ever tell you what is going on. That is something you learn on the job. Or you don't learn at all. He rolled up his sleeves as he approached me. I noticed the hair on his arms growing longer as his fingernail stretched and warped into thick talons. What are you? I asked. Not a match for what you are, he said as he stripped off his shirt. He slid out of his pants as his body began to change.

His skin rippled, and his limbs elongated. Then he hunched over as his back arched and thick black hair sprang from every pore. I watched in horror at his transformation from a man into a snarling wolf that had to be the size of a small car. Seeing him like that, watching him transform, awakened something in me, and all of my dreams that had existed on the edge of my subconscious came flooding back. The fur, the large teeth, the ripping and the shredding and killing. The images no longer flitted through my mind, but stayed there, telling me who I truly was. So I changed to match him.

But like he had said, he wasn't a match for me. My body didn't twist and warp. He didn't sprout from my skin, nor did a snout growth on my face. No. What happened to me was an all-encompassing growth that turned me from a young man of maybe six feet into a true beast of ten feet with fur as thick and warm as a yetis and claws and teeth to rival the small dragons. I wish I could say I was respectful with the headguard,

but while I now, despite his new formidable appearance, it was all over in seconds. And when I returned to my man form, I sighed at the mess I had made. I'm going to need more than a mop for this, I said as I looked about at the hunks of flesh and strips of skin strewn all across the lobby. Jonah was a good man, a reflection said, startling me.

I'd forgotten all about it. Not surprising, since I had just massacred someone I had looked up to for such a long time. Then it hit me. He said his name out loud, and I heard it. It did, yes, my reflection said. No need to disguise who he is.

His service has ended today, just as yours will one day. Not until I get this all cleaned up. Now, do not bother with the mob. That is attendant work. Your job is behind that desk, in that cage. That's where the headguard works. Do I need to spell it out for you, Emil?

It didn't. And I walked into the cage, put the uniform jacket on, and took my place behind the desk. And I've been here ever since, I say to the attendant, waxing the lobby floor. Maybe one day you'll become head guard. I doubt it, he replies. I'm not headguard material. I turn into mist, not a giant beast. Ah, yes, I see the problem.

It would be hard for Mist to beat me and take my mantle. It's freaking hard for Mist to do much of anything. And I'm not much into the whole ritual killing in order to move up the employment ladder. To get what I mean, he pauses his mopping. Do you see your mom more at least? Oh, yes, of course, I say, and lean back in my chair. It's why the lead picked me.

A beast is easy to control when it has a beauty around to soothe it. Even if that beauty is a mad banshee. Uh, that's your mom you're talking about. Don't be disgusting. It's not like that. I'm just saying that the Lee put me right where I need to be. If you say so, shut up and keep waxing. I need to see my reflection later so the Lee and I can have our evening chat. Okay, sorry, he says and gets back to work.

Then he asks, Hey, why wasn't the Lee built for humans? It can hold monsters that can destroy buildings. Why can't it hold humans? No one said it couldn't. But to answer your question, it's a riddle. Lee was never built. It was born.

Just like all living things in this infernal city. The attendant blanches and looks around. Seeing the Lee in a brand new way, I can smell his sudden fear from where I sit. No, mist or no mist. He is definitely not headguard material. Very few of us are.