Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - We Thought the Haunted House Would Be Fun—We Were Wrong

Episode Date: October 1, 2025

A group of friends enters a backwoods haunted house for Halloween thrills—only to discover the horrors inside are real, and the house is hungry for new souls. Love coffee? Get yourself a fresh bag of NoSleep Coffee here: ⁠⁠⁠NoSleepCoffee.com⁠⁠⁠ – get 20% off using promo code NOSLEEP20 at checkout for 20% off your first order! Stay spooky! :) Don’t like ads? Listen ad-free, anytime when you join 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

Jerry's shitty Corolla coughs and sputters its way down the dirt road. The headlights catching a cardboard sign every few yards that reads, Haunted House this way, or Keep Going, or Almost to Your Doom. Typical Halloween haunted house stuff. The one I'm not sure about is the new Haints Wanted sign that pops up every third sign or so. Why do they need new Haints? Jerry asks. And what the hell are Haints? I add. Ghosts, Gala says for my right.

Huh, I'm never heard of that. Now you have. Well, it's no freaking wonder they need new ghosts or haints or whatever, Sherry says from the passenger seat. Who wants to drive out this far to work at some dumb haunted house? I'd do it, Clint says, not looking at me as I'm forced to ride bitch in the backseat between him and Gala. Some of us need the work. You know why?

Because our best friend got us fired. Right, Tucker? Dude, a set I'm sorry like a million fucking times, okay? I exclaimed. I didn't think the asshole would fire you too. Why would I? Because the guy calls us the skeleton twins, whatever that means. It's a movie, Gala says.

Great, that doesn't help at all. He finally turns and looks me in the eye, which he hasn't done since we got shit-canned yesterday. If you fuck up, then he blames me too. Dude, what do you want me to do? Oh, I don't know. Pay my rent. Send cash to my mom and sister.

Buy cat food and pay for vet bills, gas, groceries, you know. All the shit you use money from a job to pay for? You guys should totally apply to this place, Jerry says. If we can ever get there. Yeah, I'm not so sure they do make bank. I say. They totally do. Jerry continues.

I heard that some of the main players, especially the guy. who have to work the chainsaws bring down like a grand a night bullshit gala says no it's true maybe in the Atlanta market or Charlotte or even Knoxville but out here in the boonies no fucking way do they really make bank Clint asks totally Jerry takes yet another turn along the endless dirt road what happened at the burger joint anyway you tell them Clint says to me and looks out the window at the seemingly endless dark woods. I sigh. Well, the manager wasn't exactly happy about me giving food to my friends. Something I never did, Clint adds. No shit, Gala says. How did he even know? Jerry asks. Video cameras, I reply. Oh shit. I didn't think the owner was smart enough to do that.

He isn't, but he's greedy and paranoid, so there are hidden cameras all over the place. Is that even legal? Sherry asks. There aren't any in the bathrooms, are there? She looks at Jerry. He gulps. Yeah, there better not be any in the bathrooms. Like, it matters with you, too, Gala says.

We could hear you banging from out in the dining room. Everyone could. That was a factor in our dismissal as well. I had. Theft and lewd behavior. Even though I didn't participate in any of the lewd behavior. Would you like to, Tucker? Sherry asks.

Because I'm game if Jerry is. The car erupts into shouts and laughs and groans, and Jerry nearly runs off the road and into the woods. But he manages to keep the car on the dirt, and finally, after what feels like a decade, we take one last turn and pull up in front of the place. It's just a crappy old farmhouse, Clint says. Look out, Harvard, here comes Clint, Gala jokes. With observation skills like that, how are you unemployed? Fuck off. And no, I mean, it's an actual house, like someone used to live here.

What were you expecting? Sherry asks. I don't know. Something more modern, you know. And a little more structurally sound would be nice, too. Uh, guys, there's someone sitting on the porch. In a rocking chair, I say, that's not freaky at all. I don't hear any music or sound effects, Sherry adds, rolling down her window. Nope, nothing. The guy is staring right at it. status, great, Jerry says. What do we do? Gala asks. Should we turn around and leave? I mean, come on, this isn't what we were hoping for. I'd feel weird leaving now, Clint says. The dude obviously sees us, and now he's waving. Y'all here for the haunted house? The old man shouts from the

porch. He pushes himself up slowly from the rocking chair. Come on then, if you are. The Hanks is waiting. guys the haints is waiting jerry laughs now i guess we got to see what's in there come on let's totally do this babe no sherry grabs for jerry's arm as he opens the door and gets out of the corolla i don't like this ah don't be a wuss share jerry leans down and looks in the car his eyes hit all of us you all wusses too or are you gonna come check out some campy fun with me camp fun maybe Fun? Not so sure. Gallo crosses her arms over her chest. Hard pass, Jerry. Clint, Tucker?

Sure, Jer, I'm in. I elbow Clint. Move, dude. You sure? Clint asks, not moving at all. Can't be fun or not. Place looks dangerous. Like falling apart dangerous.

If you kids ain't coming, then you all get. The old man shouts at us. Don't need no teenagers loitering on my prowl. property. Wow, he's got this hosting thing down, Gala says. I'm having my next birthday party here for sure. And who is he calling teenagers? Cherry snaps. I got my master's last spring. Hey, I drove all the way out here, and I'm going inside. You shits can stay here or come with. I don't fucking care. Jerry walks off, waving to the old man. Hey there, sir. Saw all your signs and thought we'd have a look if that's all right. You here for work or fun?

The old man asks. Fun, sir. You sure? Yes, sir. We all have jobs back in town. Well, except for Tucker. He got fired from his burger job. Got Clint fired too.

Kind of Tuck's fault. But, hey, here we all are and ready to have some spooky fun. They get caught doing drugs? What's that? Are they on drugs? Because I don't hire drugs. They are nothing but trouble. Once a druggie, always a druggie.

Got it. No drugs or druggies? Jerry looks back over his shoulder and winks at us. Then he turns to the old man and pulls out his phone. How much are tickets? And do you take Venmo? What would I do with a bunch of Velcro? No, sir. Venmo.

It's a payment app. What am I going to do with food? I got plenty of food. The old man bellows. Jesus, I think he thinks we mean appetizers, I say, still trapped in the car. I give Clint a hard shove. Open the damn door and let me out, I'm going in. Me too.

Sherry jumps out of the car. Ten dollars each, the old man says to Jerry. Cash. Cash? Jerry puts his phone away and looks back at us. Anyone got cash? I do. I say as Clint finally opens the door to let me out.

He hops back in and closes. the door immediately. I fish out my wallet as I walk up to Jerry. How much do we need? Jeez, Tucker. Where'd you get that wad of 20s? Jerry asks, staring at the thick stack in my wallet. The asshole already fired me, so I'd figure I'd lighten the till on my way out. Truggy and a thief! The old man snorts. You deserve this place. Interesting recruitment strategy. I pull out two 20s. I think it's just the three of us. Can you make change? I'm coming. Gala says from behind me, causing me to jump and drop my wallet. Druggy, thief, and scaredy cat.

The old man cackles at his observation. Oh, you'll be perfect, except for the druggie part. No drugs. No drugs! Jerry echoes and stabs a finger in my chest. You hear that, Tucker? Stop your druggie ways right now. Before we know it, the old man is off the porch and in Jerry's face.

You like making fun of people. You think your shit don't stink. That it? You took good for my haunted house? No, sir. Not at all. Jerry holds his hands up between them and gently pushes the man back a few steps. The old man looks down at Jerry's hands on his chest and says,

One. Jerry, leave the man alone, Sherry says. Two? Let's not get to three. I pulled Jerry away from the old man. Maybe you ain't as stupid as you look. The old man says to me. We can work with that.

Uh, great. I pick up my wallet and hold out two-twenties. Here's 40 for four, unless there's tax. Is there tax? Do I look like I work for the government? Uh, no. Why in the hell you asking if I collect taxes? Because it's the law?

The old man sneers at me and then moves in on me. And what would you know about the law, thief? Are we going inside or what old man? Jerry interrupts. Sherry slaps Jerry's arm. Don't be such a jerk. She looks at our definitely unstable host. Sorry, sir. I wasn't being a jerk.

Jerry rubs his bicep. Don't hit so hard. Little baby can't take no pain. The old man cackles, turning his attention away from me and back to Jerry. Without looking, he reaches out and plucks the two-twenties from my hand. Nothing but pain inside this house, boy. Good luck. None of us say anything for a moment.

What do you say to shit like that? All right then. Thanks for the awesome little speech. Jerry breaks the silence. He then looks around. Uh, where do we start? You never gone in a house before? You start at the front door.

The old man points at a door that hasn't seen paint in a very, very long time. Then he points at the porch. And them's as steps. You know how to walk. walk up steps, don't you? Yeah, I can walk up steps and go through doors, Sherry says. Good. Some of them haints inside have already forgotten how to do either of them things. Don't you go forgetting now, too?

Not planning on it, Jerry replies, and grabs Sherry's arm. Let's get this over with. I thought you were all gung-ho to do this, Chair, Gallis says with a smirk. Not so fun when someone is giving you non-stop shit, is it? Ladies shouldn't use such language. The old man says to Gala. Mind your tongue while you're in my house. Sure think, dude.

Gala curtsies. You sure you don't want to come too? Jerry shouts back at Clint. Oh, I am 100% sure. He's good. Jerry says to us, then bows to the old man. We're going to climb those steps and walk through that door now. I hope you're bringing your A-game, old man.

Jerry, stop being rude. Sherry snaps. Best listen to you a woman, son, the old man says, then walks up onto the porch and sits back down in his rocker. Y'all have fun. We just stand there. Finally, Gala pushes past us, storms up the steps, and shoves open the front door.

Come on! We follow quickly. As I pass by the old man, I give him a wary smile. He dead-eyes me the whole time, and I'm glad when I finally get inside. and lose sight of him. Not that the new sight is much better. Holy shit. The old dude sure went for authentic, Jerry says, as we all stare at the dilapidated house. Wallpaper hangs and strips from the walls. The floors are buckled and warped from years of water damage. The banister on the stairway

leading up to the second floor is splintered and pretty much gone in most places. An old light fixture hangs by a single wire above us. All of the bulbs shattered. Picture this. 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 of Shopify. It supports millions of businesses and drives 10% of all e-commerce in the U.S. From major brands like Mattel and Jimshark to entrepreneurs just getting started. With Shopify, everything you need is.

in one place, from customizable store templates to built-in AI tools that help write product descriptions and enhance your images. It also makes marketing easy with integrated email and social campaigns. And if you get stuck, Shopify's award-winning customer support is there for you 24-7. See less cards go abandoned and more sales go with Shopify and their shop pay button. Sign up for your $1 per month trial today at Shopify.com slash dns. Go to shop. Go to shopper. Shopify.com slash DNS. That's Shopify.com slash DNS. There's an open doorway on our right, and I can see broken furniture strewn about.

To our left is a dining room with half a table and two chairs. A head is a long hallway with a very dim light at the end. Maybe there's a kitchen down there. But what really stands out is the smell. Christ, I think he's using real roadkill. Gala holds her forearm across her face. That's the smell of sunbaked death right there. I don't want to do this, Sherry says to Jerry.

A shadow crosses the end of the hallway, and we all scream and jump. I really, really don't want to do this. Sherry grabs Jerry's arm, trying to pull him back to the front door. Why? That was actually scary. Jerry yanks away from Sherry's grasp. Let's see what else this house has. I don't like this either, I say to Gala. Same, she replies.

But we paid for it, so let's see it through. A glow erupts in the room to the right, and the loud hiss of static fills the house. TV just came on! Cherry walks into the room. He points at the corner. What the fuck? We follow him in, and then stand there and stare at the screen. Cherry, whispered.

We all are. The television is ancient, one of those old square ones that has like bubble glass or some shit. But we're not stunned by the antique. We're stunned by the surveillance video it's showing. That's us, Jerry. Cherry hisses, as we all watch them have sex in the bathroom at the burger joint I used to work out. How, Jerry? How did this old man get the video? I don't know, Jerry replies in a quiet voice.

He gets in your head. A small voice says from behind us, we jump, scream, and turn. In the opposite corner crouches a young girl. Dressed in a soiled nightgown, she places a palm on the floor and inches close. to us. Then she places her other palm on the floor and inches even closer. It's too late, she says, one palm, two palms. You shouldn't have come inside. He's already in you. Okay, this is fucking scary, Gala says. The girl's eyes shoot to Gala.

You don't know scary. Fuck! Jerry mutters. The young girl stops her hand over hand crawling and stands up straight in the blink of an eye. I'll show you scary, she says, then race is straight for Gala. We scatter fast, all shrieking at the top of our lungs. We're out of the room in a heartbeat. I sprint across the entryway to the dining room, but Jerry sprints up the stairs while Sherry runs down the hallway. I stop and turn.

Where's Gala? I wait, I listen, say in a hushed voice. No response. The TV light cuts off, and the room across for me is plunged into pitch darkness. I frown. It hadn't been that dark before, not even close. It's as if the room is filled with ink. Gala? I call quietly, taking a few steps out of the dining room. Gala? Where'd you go? Laughter trickles from the darkness. I swallow and back up a step. A hand reaches out. I recognize Gala's rings. Jesus, you scared the shit out of me, I say. Come on, Jerry and Sherry split up. Let's try to find them.

The hand continues to reach out. It's attached to a long forearm that only gets longer and longer and longer. Gala? I squeak. The arm is now across the entryway. Um, hey, how are you doing that? The arm doesn't slow. It stretches and stretches and is now at the dining room door, and I'm backing away quickly.

And across the entryway, a face appears, all bone white. It's Gala's face, but it's not Gala. And now the arm has me backed against the dining room wall, and the hand is grabbing my ankle, and it's squeezing, and the nails are digging into my flesh. Oh, fuck no! I scream and kick at the hand. My legs are wobbly with fear, but I get them moving and sprint out of the dining room. Gala lunges for me, half her body stretching out of the darkness, like she's made of rubber. Her other hand tries to claw it in my face, but I duck under the arm and book my ass down the hallway and burst into a kitchen lit by candlelight.

Sherry is sitting at the kitchen table. Her back to me. Fuck, Sherry, we got to go. I shout as I pulled at her left shoulder. Get your ass up so we can find Jerry and get the fuck out of here. Sherry doesn't move. But something in her shoulder, something under her skin does. I let go and stare at the shoulder.

It ripples and shudders. A long, thin string squiggles below Sherry's skin. Then a small slit opens along her neck and blood gushes out. Oh, fuck! I yell and scramble around the kitchen, hunting for a towel or anything to stop the bleeding. Hold on, Cher. There's nothing anywhere. So I'm about to yank my t-shirt off and go press it against Sherry's neck, but I freeze.

From this angle, I can now see Sherry's face and her empty eye sockets. Sherry? The blood spurts and spurts from the slit in her neck. I force myself to look at the wound and away from the empty eyes. There's something wrong with the blood. I glance at the floor and see a thousand white worms squirming in the dark liquid. The pool only gets bigger and bigger as more blood gushes out of Sherry. Too much blood.

Way too much blood. Sherry's mouth opens in a horrible scream, which is cut off by an even more horrible gurgling as worm-filled blood erupts out of her throat. Then out of her eyes. She's like a summer sprinkler, just with blood instead of well water. I turn and puke. The worms head straight for it. leaving thin trails of blood behind as they slink across the warped and waterlogged kitchen floor.

I puke again. The blood continues to flow out of Sherry with no signs of stopping. The floor is almost completely coated. I back up until my ass hits the kitchen counter. Before the worm-filled blood, which is now mixed with my puke, reaches my shoes, I scramble up under the kitchen counter, tucking my legs up under me. Sherry keeps bleeding and bleeding and bleeding. There's a loud thump and a cry from upstairs.

Jerry! I yell. Jerry! Get your ass down here! There's another thump, but it's not from above me. Thump. A hand appears at the kitchen door behind Sherry, gripping the frame.

Then a second hand, and a third, and a fourth. And Gala's face. I shout as Gala's warped and stretched body scrambles into the kitchen. She lurches left. I scurry along the counter to the right. She dodges right. I scurry back to the left. Then she leaps over the table and sherry and lands right in front of me.

I was told her whole my tongue, she hisses. But I want you to instead. Her tongue slides out of her mouth at an impossible length and flicks toward me. I scream, punch her in her fucked up face, fall off the counter into the blood and worms and puke, shove myself up out of the gore and onto my feet, and slip and slide my way out of the kitchen as fast as I can. Calm!

I scream as I continue to slip and slide my way down the hall, while also slapping at the hundreds of white worms crawling across my body. Jerry, we got to go! When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I look up and shout, Get your fucking ass down here now! We're leaving! Why is that tuck? Jerry asks, from the top of the stairs. We just got here.

So fucking what, man? We need to go. Shit is fucked up, and something is wrong with Gal and Sherry. Come on! Nah, man, they're fine. fitting in just right. He takes one step down and waves at me. You'd fit in too, Tucker. How about you come up here so I can show you something?

What? Fuck no. You get your ass down here. No, no, no, Tuck. That's not going to happen, man. I work here now. He takes another step down and another. What the fuck are you even talking about?

I shriek. Then I hear thump, thump, thush. Thumb, thump, slosh. Fuck, dude. Let's go. Can't do that, tuck. And I don't think you should either. How about you relax and come on up?

Seriously, man, what I have to show you will blow your mind. Jerry turns and walks back to the second floor landing, giving me a clear view of the back of his head and the hammer sticking out of it. My hand shoots to my mouth, and I managed to keep from puking this time. How was this happening? I mumble. Thumb, slosh, slosh, slosh. Thumb, slosh, slosh.

Come on, Tuck, we don't have all night. Jerry laughs. What am I saying? We got forever now. Get your ass up here, Tucker. I can't wait to show you your future. No fucking way. I push away from the bottom of the stairs.

Slosh, slosh, slosh. A giggle. Where are you going, Tucker? Skeleton thin fingers, followed by impossibly stretched hands, appear from the hallway as a lake of blood floods toward me. Thin cables of arms show themselves after the hands. The blood keeps flowing, rising, filling the hallway and now the entryway, and I'm forced to put a foot on the first step.

Gala's face appears as she pulls herself along the floor, almost swimming in the blood. On her back is Sherry. Her arms wrapped about Gala's long, thin neck. At the exact same time, their heads swivel, and they stare up at me. Or Gala's stares. Sherry's eyes are still leaking nothing but blood. Cooking shit fuck.

I cry and scramble up the stairs, desperate to get away from the rising flood of worms and blood. Jerry is waiting for me on the second floor landing. You stay the fuck away from me! I shouted him as I looked down the hallway to my right. Ah, come on, man! Don't be like that! Jerry takes a step. I said stay the fuck back!

No cursing! A voice calls from an open doorway. Then, an old woman and a house dress leans out and points at me. No curse! Her skin is blackened and split open. Thick, yellow pus, oozes from the cracks and drips onto the floor. Get back in here, woman. A man shouts.

Huge, gnarled hands grab her and yank her back out of sight. Where do you think you were going? The old woman screech is so loud that I swear my ears are going to bleed. Quiet! The man roars, and the screeching stops. Then a sickening noise of heavy fists, meeting burned flesh fills the house. Those two. Jerry says, pulling my attention back to him.

Jesus, I'd forgotten he was even there. Stay away, Jerry. Why? I only want to give you a gift. He reaches behind his head. There's a loud, sucking noise and a crackling pop. Jerry pulls the hammer from the back of his head and shows it to me. There's a man at the end of the hall that's giving these away for free. All you have to do is fall down and try to get back up,

so he has a clear shot at the back of your skull. But I'm your friend, Tucker, so I'll save you all the trouble and give this to you myself. After all, you paid for the tickets. It's the least I can do. I said, stay the fuck. Tuckala calls from below. Jerry lifts the hammer above his head, and I punch him as hard as I can in the throat. He pauses and frowns.

I'm dead, dumbass. What the fuck did you think that would do? The hammer comes down, and I bring my arms up to block it. Pain erupts in my right forearm as I see. I swear I feel the bones shatter inside. I scream and lower my shoulder, ramming Jerry in the chest. He manages to bring the hammer up and down again as I push him back. Stars erupt inside my skull as I slam him into the opposite wall.

I can feel blood oozing down my scalp and onto my cheek. From how it feels, I think he only grazed me. But what the fuck do I know? I'm probably in 12 kinds of shock right now. Jerry raises the hammer again, but I shove him away with my good arm. As I hold my shattered arm to my chest, I turned and run down the other end of the long, dark hallway, making sure to go the opposite way for Mr. Huge Hands and his barbecue bride. Not that my choice of directions means I'm alone.

Ain't no way out, a pair of twin boys say from a doorway. You're here forever, mister. Fear grips me so hard that I swear I might have a heart attack. I press my broken arm against myself so that the pain clears my head. It gives me the adrenaline boost I need, and I pump my life. legs faster. You shouldn't run in the house. A woman scolds me from another doorway, a bloody knife in each hand.

Runners get cut. Fuck you! I scream as I aim for what I think is a shuttered window at the end of the hall. I run and run, but I swear I'm not getting any closer to the end. Fuck all of you! No cursing! The scorched woman screams from far behind me. Where are you going, man?

Cherry shouts after me. You can't leave! Ain't no way out! The twins cry. Stop running! Runners get caught! Tucker! The window is right in front of me, and I throw myself at it. Ancient glass shatters, rotten wood splinters, and I'm flying, falling, tumbling, and open air.

I flail and bam! The air leaves my lungs, and I truly believe I'll never breathe again. Motes dance in front of my eyes, as my body uses up the last of its oxygen. Then in one horrifying gasp, I suck half the atmosphere. into my lungs. But with the relief of fresh air comes the agony of brutal pain like I've never experienced before. My arm is a mangled mess, having got caught under me instead of staying close to my chest. Pretty sure both angles are broken and one of my legs too. How many ribs does a person have? Whatever the number is, that's how many are shattered in my chest. I can feel them stabbing

with every breath. My head tilts to the side and the cold, moist, dead grass I'm lying in actually feels good on my face. Oh shit, Tuck. That doesn't look good. I roll my head back and look up. Jerry is leaning all the way out of the window, smiling down at me. Let me put you out of your misery,

he says, then throws the hammer. It thunks right next to my head, and I side-eye the tool. Then with my one semi-good arm, I reach over and pluck it free from the damp earth. Rolling over onto my stomach, I scream as everything in my body explodes with pain. I mumble. I stretch my good arm out and dig the hammer's claw end into the dirt.

Then I pull. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. I say that over and over again, as I use the hammer to help drag myself across the grass and toward the front of the house where I know a car is waiting. Where are you going, tuck? Jerry shouts. Ah, come on, man. Come back. Fuck you. Reach, scream, dig, pull, scream, reach, scream, dig, pull, scream. Well, shit, boy, you got some fight in you. I manage one last pull, then roll over onto my back, screaming the whole time. Oh, hush that whining, the old man says, looming over me from the side. He crouches down and gets right in my face.

I smell old tobacco and rancid meat on his breath. Can't stand no winers. Fuck you. I laugh. Then I cry and cough and gasp. Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement. Jesus. What now?

A figure gets closer, and I tilt my head just a little so I can see better. You and your friends are going to draw them in, the old man grunts. Yes, sir. I can feel it. Fresh blood will bring the fresh money. The figure is even closer, and... Clint? Oh, fuck, it's Clint.

I hate my face slack, which isn't too hard to do. I make sure I don't show any signs of seeing Clint. Because, and I almost cry at the sight, my friend is holding a large axe in both hands. Thank God. He'll chop the fuck out of this old fuck and get us both out of here. Got something on your mind, boy? The old man asks, standing up, just as I see Clint raise the axe.

Fuck you! I growl. Oh? The old man laughs and moves to the side. Nah. I think it's fuck you. Clint takes a step forward. The axe held high,

but he doesn't turn it on the old man. He holds it over me instead. Sorry, Tucker. The old guy said I could be manager, and I really need a job, he says. But don't worry, I'll give you the best shifts. Fuck me!

I say as the axe falls. Want the horror to start sooner and never stop? Patreon gets you early episodes, no ads, and 80-plus terrifying exclusives. Link in the description below. Thank you.