Snook - Terrifying Horror Stories From Reddit

Episode Date: May 29, 2026

These were some Disturbing Horror Stories From Reddit! These stories were so terrifying! What was your favorite story? And would you like to see me make similar videos in the future? Leave your thoughts down below in the comment section, and make sure to like and subscribe! Credits! Go give some support to these talented authors! That-Eagle-5950 - https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1ryq3rs/sissy/ Doe-fly - https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1lv7vu9/my_exs_kid_is_staying_with_me_for_a_few_days_its/ lets-split-up - https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1s1k8nc/i_taught_my_dog_to_use_talking_buttons_what_she/ Mortanx - https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1rz118y/my_brother_called_me_from_the_hospital_while_he/ Mouro_76 - https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1rwmw6r/there_are_rules_for_using_the_bathroom_in_my/ I was granted permission to use all of these stories. Make sure to check out all of the original authors. Timestamps! 0:00 | Intro 0:44 | Sissy 28:30 | My ex's kid is staying with me for a few days. It's causing some tension between me and my girlfriend. 1:13:29 | I taught my dog to use talking buttons. What she told me terrified me. 1:25:22 | My Brother Called Me from the Hospital While He Was Sitting in My Car 1:40:10 | There Are Rules for Using the Bathroom in My Apartment. I Finally Understand Why. 2:03:21 | Outro Make sure to subscribe to the Patreon for early access videos and many more perks! / snookyt⁠ Also! Go follow me on Spotify and Instagram! Yes, my voice is human. The channels subscriber goal is 1 million, so subscribe! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hey, what's up guys and welcome back to the channel. And today we're getting into some terrifying horror stories from Reddit. And oh boy, these are some of the best stories I have ever read from Reddit, but they are equally as scary and horrifying. And like the title says, terrifying. So you're going to want to make sure to stick around. And I appreciate you stop buying means world. And make sure you like the video and subscribe to the channel.

The channel subscriber goal is 1 million subscribers before the end of the year. please subscribe and alright this video will be long enough already so sit back relax grab a drink or grab a snack and without further ado let's get into some terrifying horror stories from reddit sissy when i was younger i wanted my sister to go away i didn't want her to die necessarily i didn't want anyone to physically hurt her but i wanted her to go away. Not even permanently. Just for a while. Just enough time for my parents to shine their gaze on me just for once. Just for a little while. But that didn't happen. Claire had everything. She was beautiful, popular, smart. She was in every extracurricular. She received fantastic marks. The principal knew her by name and a

good way. She came out of the womb as the golden girl of the family. The worst part, she was nice to everyone, especially me. She went out of her way to befriend me, make a sister connection. When she was five, she drew pictures of us together. When she was 10, she read my favorite Y-A series so we could talk about it. She tried everything, but I couldn't help but loathe her. Being outshined by your baby sister is hard enough. Feeling guilty about the hate you have towards her is even worse. Everything changed when Claire entered her senior year of high school. She was 18 and having her dream high school experience. I was in my second year of college by this point and still living at home. I was just about to lock myself in my room for the night with my hot date of reality TV

when I heard it. Oh, stop it, you're bad. It was Claire's whispered voice between giggles, coming from her bedroom. I paused and stepped closer. Who was she talking to? Tonight, it's late? Baby, there's zero way I could get out of the house without someone's seen. Well, well, perfect little princess is going to sneak out to see a boy. I was practically foaming at the mouth to ratter out to our parents, just to see them disappointed in her for once. I know, I want to see you too.

I know it isn't the same over the phone. Yes, I know you've been patient. Okay, I know. Yes, this weekend my parents have a thing. Can I finally meet you then? I take a closer step to hear the specifics, which makes the floor softly creak. I hold my breath.

Hey, I've got to go. I'll text you, okay? Okay, bye. I hear her shift quickly and her footsteps coming to her door. My panic surges, and I try to get as far away from her room as possible in a matter of seconds. Just then, her door swings open. Oh, sissy, it's you, she smiles.

Out of breath from coming to the door. Just going to my room, I say cautiously. Normally, I would bite her head off for using the nickname she has always called me, but I'll let it go. I've always hated it, though I don't understand exactly why. She smiles at me in relief, and I decide to make sure I wasn't imagining the early conversation I overheard. Claire, I wanted to invite you to a concert I'm going to on Saturday. Do you want to go? Mom and dad have their party so we can grab a bite and go I offer. Her face falls. Claire is always trying to tag along with me to things. Oh, that sounds fun. I would love to,

really, but I told Mary Beth I would sleep over at her house on Saturday and her mom is doing a big dinner thing, so I told her I would go. She lies, trailing off while toying with her ring on her middle finger. Oh, that's too bad. Maybe next time I tell her. She must really want to go meet whoever this is. Normally, she would never turn this down. I turn and walk towards my room. My hand is on the door when Claire's voice sounds again.

You know what? All canceled with Mary Beth. She will understand, and we can have sister time she offers. Crap. Oh, it's okay, I quickly say. We can always do something in another time. Enjoy your time with Mary Beth. Her smile falters a bit.

You mean it? We will do something another time? Because I would really like that, sissy. Claire says softly, and her honest expression almost makes me falter. Almost. Of course, Claire. We have all the time in the world. I say opening my door casually. She smiles brightly, nods and disappears downstairs. I'm not a bad person, I promise. I just want Claire to understand how I felt my whole life being the family disappointment. I don't even hate Claire. I just want to see her suffer. Just a little bit.

Saturday came in a flash. That morning I saw Claire redoing her hair over and over, trying to get her Auburn hair to lay just right. That afternoon, I saw her laying out at least a dozen outfits on her bed, carefully analyzing each one. I watch her from her open door for a minute while she furrows her brows at each option. You're sure putting a lot of effort into looking at her. nice for Mary Beth, I say, causing her to jump in surprise. Oh, oh, she laughed softly. I think she

wants to take photos, so I just want to make sure I look nice for them. I'm probably overthinking it. I nod and step into a room, peering down at the unlimited options, the green dress with your denim jacket, makes your hair look really vibrant, I offer, surprising myself. Her eyes widened a bit as she takes in the small compliment. Really? You think so? She asked me. I nod. Green is your color for sure, I add.

She smiles brightly. Thank you. It's actually my favorite color, too. You can't go wrong with a sister pick, she says excitedly. Holding up the green dress on the hanger. The sudden sisterhood moment starts to make me feel overwhelmed. I force a smile and begin to walk out of the room before I remember. Oh, I'm leaving for my concert at 7.

When is Mary Beth picking you up, I ask? She seems confused for a half second, but corrects her face quickly. Oh, um, uh, 7.30. Don't worry, I'll lock up before I leave, she says casually. Opening up her jewelry box on her bed. sounds good have fun tonight i call over my shoulder as i heads my room you too claire calls after me and even though she's only a few feet away for some reason she already seems so far away from me the concert wasn't real i had no plans for one which was also why i insisted she go to her actual plans. My plan was easy. I would leave the house at 7 p.m., grab some food, then circle around for a while.

Once Claire was gone, I would go to Marybeth's house, claiming she forgot something at home. She wouldn't be there. And then I would call my parents in a fake panic, causing them to leave their party and come home to track Claire down. Claire gets caught with whatever boy she's with. Mom and dad yell at her. She gets the, How could you disappoint us like this face? And I revel in their anger.

And tomorrow the dust will settle. Claire will bat her eyes and apologize and everything will go back to normal. But for one night, she will get it. And that's all I need. At about 8.15 p.m., I go back to my house.

I had to make sure Claire actually left. I opened the door slowly and called to the house. Hello? Claire? You still here? Silence. I climbed the stairs and look into her room. She isn't there. But her denim jacket is on the bed. She must have forgotten it.

Oh no, Claire, you forgot your jacket. I say out loud, in an exaggerated voice. I should be a good sister and return this to you at Marybeth's house, which you are so totally at this evening. I take the jacket with me downstairs and immediately leave the house,

jumping in my car. I'm almost giddy with excitement. I drive the five minutes to Marybeth's house, humming along to my music. When I get there, I open the door and practically skip up the walkway and ring the bell. I then remind myself that I need to play Concern Sister

and furrow my brows the way I saw Claire do it that morning. A beat later, Mary Beth's mother comes to the door. Oh, hello, sweetie, she says. Hey there, just coming by to drop off Claire's jacket. She left it at home and it's cold outside, I say, holding the jacket up. Mary Beth's mother tilts her head at me. Well, that is awfully kind of you, but Claire isn't here.

I don't think so at least. One moment. She turns back into the house and calls for her daughter. Mary Beth casually walks to the door. Her expression falls when she sees me. Honey, is Claire here? Her sister comes by to drop off her jacket. Her mother says, gesturing to me.

Oh, no, no she isn't, but she will be. She is coming over later. Yeah, later. Mary Beth stammer, I widen my eyes and look directly at Mary Beth. She isn't here? What do you mean? She told me she would be. Didn't you pick her up, I ask her?

Uh, Marybeth's cheeks turned pink, and she looks sideways to her mom. Mary Beth? Do you know where Claire is? Her mother demands. Mary Beth quickly shakes her head. I shake my head and inhale deeply. Okay. I think I'm going to call my parents, I say with a defeated expression.

Oh, honey, at least come inside to call them. It's cold outside. I'll make you some tea. Mary Beth's mom offers, standing aside to let me pass through. Thank you, I tell her. pulling out my phone, which already has my mom's phone information pulled up, and I hit the green call button. About 30 minutes later, I see my parents' car pulling to Marybeth's driveway. I meet them at the door with that sad expression I've perfected over the last half hour.

What is happening? Where's Claire? My mom practically shrieks as she walks up the pavement. I give a resounded sigh. I have no clue, Mom. She said she would be. be here and I brought her jacket because I saw that she left it at home, but Mary Beth said she hasn't been here and she doesn't know where she is. I say, looking down at the denim jacket in my hand for emphasis, my mom puts her hand on my shoulder and looks me in the eye. It's a nice thing you did bringing that to her. If you hadn't, we wouldn't have known she wasn't here, she says, squeezing my shoulder with her manicured hand. A small beam of pride wells up in my chest, but I only offer her a sad smile.

My dad, who had been talking to Mary Beth's mom, walks over to us. When was the last time he called her, he asks, pulling out his phone. Crap. I didn't. I didn't call once. Oh, just a few minutes ago, I respond. My dad nods and pulls up Claire's contact info. I see him dial as he steps to the side of the living room with his ear to the phone.

This just isn't like Claire. To disappear like this, my mom says. I feel my shining moment growing. It isn't. You're right. Do you think she lied on purpose? Lied to you, dad, and me? Maybe she lied to go do something that you wouldn't have approved of, I said.

say timidly. I have to make it sound like I'm coming up with a theory as I'm talking. Really sell it. As I'm watching the gears turn in my mom's head, Marybeth and her mother appear in the room again. Mary Beth looks like she's about to throw up, and her mother has a stern hand on her shoulder. Go ahead. Tell them what you just told me. Her mother says sternly. Mary Beth is silent. I said now, young lady, or so help me God, okay, Mary Beth squeaks. I don't know where Claire is. That's true, but I know what she's doing. My mother raises her eyebrows at her. Oh, here we go. Mary Beth fiddles with the hem of her sweater, looking straight down at the hardwood floor. Claire was meeting a boy tonight, and she asked me to cover for her.

I feigned shock on my face. A boy, my mom asks. What boy? A boy from your school? Mary Beth shakes her head. No, no, she met him on online. Marybeth whispers. The shock on my face is no longer fake.

What? I yell. Oh my God. My mom gasps, turning to find my dad. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. She's been talking with him for a few months. I told her it was not a good idea to meet him alone, but she said he was normal and nice. She said that they video-chatted a few times. I'm so sorry. I've been trying to call her since you got here, but she won't answer. Mary Beth begins to cry, putting her face in her hands. I hear my dad yelling in the other room. Claire, Claire, baby, where are you? Tell me where you are, Claire. I sprint into, the other room and see my dad pressing the phone to his ear as hard as he can. His face has turned bright red.

Tears have sprung from his eyes. I hear a sound coming from his phone, and I would know it anywhere. It's Claire, crying, wailing. Daddy, please help me, please, I'm so sorry, I'm so, her sentence is cut off by a piercing scream. loud enough to bring Mary Beth and her mom in from the other room. Claire! Claire, God damn it! My dad screams. Hurling his phone at the wall,

shattering the screen into a million pieces. My mom has her hand over her mouth, but her eyes are wild with emotions. I'm calling the police, Marybeth's mother says. As she scurries out of the room, my mom begins to sob, and my dad leans his head against the wall. trying to compose himself.

No. No, no, no, no, no. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to be grounded, I whisper. My father's head turns up to look at me. She was just supposed to be grounded, maybe yelled at, but that's all. And it would have been fine by tomorrow, I whisper. Looking down at Claire's jacket, I still held in my now trembling hands.

My mother and father make eye contact. before my father slowly crosses the room to me. What do you know? It's been two weeks. Two miserable, brutal, quiet weeks since Claire went missing. I've been waiting for that feeling of relief. That feeling of getting what I always wanted for her to go away. But it doesn't come.

I take her jacket to sleep with me every night, holding it next to my pillow and curling around it. I've developed an attachment to it, like I'm afraid that if I don't sleep next to it, the hope is gone. But as long as I have it nearby, I'm connected to her. My parents have stopped speaking to me since that night. After the police arrived at Marybeth's house,

they spoke to us all separately. I told them the truth. That I knew she was planning to sneak out, but I said nothing, hoping she would get in trouble. The officer gave me a sympathetic smile before closing his notepad. During this time,

all they have gathered was that Claire did meet someone online who claimed to be 18 and named Ethan. Ethan was careful to not talk about plans or any specifics over text or message. They mostly spoke on the phone.

They found phone calls and text messages going back months and months. They did find video calls, but they appeared to have been tampered with as well as their chats. Whoever did this has done it before.

And from the messages, they've gathered that Ethan knew everything about Claire already, seemingly before she even told him. And they finally figured out where he picked her up from. And it was less than a mile from our house. They found his phone at the park down the road from us, the opposite way from Maribout's house. The screen was broken, but it still turned on. My sister was the only saved number. Then he then figured out a way to cover his tracks, but the police keep saying they'll stay on it. Every time the phone rings or someone knocks on the door, my mom just about has a heart attack running to answer. She will say a few things in passing to me, but she's just so sad.

She just stares at Claire's phone. Sometimes she cries, but she's mostly quiet. my dad I know he blames me I've tried to explain that I had no idea it was a boy online I thought it was someone from her class

I would never want her to get hurt he doesn't care especially once the police pulled the records and he realized I never called her myself that night what if you called her once you got to marry Beth's you could have spoken to her What if you could have figured out where she was, he had asked me?

To which I had no response. He leaves the house every day to look for her. We've led search teams, put her picture everywhere, held a press conference, everything the police said would help. We even posted a reward. But the days pass and my sister doesn't come home. It was a Monday when we found out. When you find out something that impacts the rest of your life,

you really zone in on everything around you in that moment. The wallpaper that had begun to lightly peel above the mantle that held Claire's soccer photo. The smell of the Fabriz my mom had just sprayed in the living room when the detective called and asked if he could come by to talk. The sound of the garbage truck making its way down the road. road. If I close my eyes, I'm back sitting on the couch next to my mom. My dad refused to sit. He wanted to remain standing, no matter how much the detective insisted otherwise.

That Monday was the day I found out that Claire was really gone. And she was really gone because they had found her. She was 40 miles east in a wooded area, or what remained of her. A hiker had discovered something wrapped in green fabric sticking up out of the ground and called it in. It was Claire. From the autopsy, the detective had said they were able to gather that she had been tortured and brutalized up until the end of her life. though it was hard to know specifics with what remained of her though I wouldn't be surprised if they were keeping details from us on purpose

to try and protect us and they placed her time of death not soon after she had gone missing and the boy my father asked the detective shook his head we haven't been able to find him sir I still clutched her jacket while he continued to tell us the news as gently as he could, though I couldn't look at the detective. I just stared at Claire's photo on the mantle in her green soccer uniform.

Green. I always liked her in green. In my time I've had to think about Claire, I've realized I actually liked quite a bit about her. I liked her laugh. her style, her unwavering kindness and optimism. And that was all I had of her now. These memories. These things I admired but could never bring myself to tell her,

and now I never will. We held her funeral a week later, a closed casket, but there were enough flowers to rival a garden. We opened the floor for people to speak, and everyone spoke about how Claire had touched their lives in some way. It became too much, too much to handle. I retreated to the parking lot to smoke a cigarette in an attempt to gather myself. I was standing outside for only a moment when I saw my mom approach from the corner of my eye.

Could I have one? She asked. I raised my eyebrows, but held the pack and light her out for her. She lit a cigarette and took a long drag before staring out into the lot. We sat there for a moment in uncomfortable silence. She adored you, you know. My mom finally says, I turned to her in surprise. No, I mean, she was always good to me, but I don't think I start.

She did, though. She idolized you. from the moment she understood anything you were her big sister and she just loved you her first real word was sissy did you know that my mom tells me taking another drag of her cigarette i stare at her in shock i didn't know that no i whisper we sit in silence again before it's my turn to break it. We were supposed to have more time. We were supposed to become friends later, be there for one another. The whole thing, and if I had just called her or been less jealous, it's just not fair. Death is never fair, honey. My mom interrupts, tossing the finished cigarette in the dirt and

stepping on it with her boot. I feel my cheeks become wet. It must be rainfall. I reach out my hand out to catch a droplet and realize the sky is bright and blue. The wetness is coming from my eyes. I'm so sorry, Mom. I wish I'd done more, I whimper. My mom looks at me with a sympathetic expression, and she wraps me into a tight hug. I let myself cry into her shoulder. You don't have to apologize to me, honey.

Just take it one day at a time. That's all we can do, she says into my hair, before patting me on the back end, heading back inside. I sit down on the sidewalk or collapse, really, and just look up at the sky. I'm not really religious, but I'd like to think Claire is looking down on us all today, that she's here and laughing over the dramatics of the day, but admiring the beautiful flowers that bloomed, just for her. If I close my eyes,

I can hear her faint laugh carry through my memory, and I dread the day I will inevitably forget it. I scratch at the new tattoo on my wrist, remembering to put lotion on it. So I welcome the distraction and pull the small tube out of my bag and roll up my sleeve. smiling at the word sissy in green ink, forever etched on my skin. My ex's kid is staying with me for a few days. It's causing some tension between me and my girlfriend. I was backing up my car up my driveway after a long day of work, eager to get out of my uniform

and onto the couch. When I first saw him, There was a little kid, a boy, standing on my porch. Oddly, my first reaction was fear, though I couldn't tell you why. But I could feel my heart speed up as soon as I saw his face pop up in my rearview mirror. He was dressed in denim shorts and a red t-shirt, and a backpack was slung over his shoulders. His face was pale. Then he had light brown hair peeking out from underneath a blue blue blue shirt. baseball cap. His eyes locked onto mine in the reflection as I put the car in park and pulled the keys

out of the ignition. I broke off the unsettling eye contact to glance up and down the street. What if this is a robbery? I thought wildly. That's a thing, isn't it? Children uses decoys to get your guard down. I shook my head, realizing how ridiculous I sounded. Jesus, I need to lay off the late-night true-crime rabbit holes. The street was empty, except a tabby cat wandering idly by the storm drain. I glanced back toward the boy as I gathered my duffel bag and laptop case from the backseat. Then it dawned on me, and I laughed at myself. Once every few weeks or so, I'd get neighborhood kids knocking on my door, asking to retrieve

a frisbee or football or whatever else out of my backyard. My fence shared aside with two other yards, both of which housed apparently very social and rambunctious children. Chuckling, I shut the car door a little too hard. Sending the cat scurrying off down the street. I waved at the boy. So what is it this time? Soccer ball? I asked him as I stepped up onto the porch.

He cocked his head slightly. Ball? Yeah, did y'all throw something over the fence again? if you give me a minute to set my stuff down, I'll grab it for you. That's when I realized something. I couldn't hear any kids playing behind the house, besides a sprinkler across the street and a police car siren going off in the distance. It was quiet.

I could feel myself getting a little nervous again. This time worried that this kid was lost or in some sort of trouble. I squatted down, concerned. Hey, what's your name? Matt. Something about him seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it yet. All right, Matt, you okay? Where's your parents?

He shoveled his feet. She brought me here. Your mom, you mean? She dropped you off here? Like on my porch? Why? Then an idea hit me. The reason he looked familiar.

I tried to smile at him. Is your mom's name, Jennifer? Jenny. He nodded. I sighed. Probably failing to hide how frustrated this whole situation was making me. Jenny was my ex. We didn't date very long.

I'm the one who called it off. She'd been great at first, but it soon became apparent. She had a serious drug problem. I couldn't deal with the... mood swings or the constant stealing in line so after a last ditch effort to get her to get help which was staunchly refused i broke it off damn maybe this is a robbery after all i thought darkly part of me still felt bad about dumping someone that was obviously in a bad place but honestly i just wasn't equipped to handle that sort of thing i was also not equipped to handle kids

and looking at Matt, I realized this was the longest conversation I'd had with someone other than adults in years. I found out Jenny had a kid, or perhaps multiple, pretty early on in our relationship, but I never met them. They didn't live with Jenny, and it was obviously a bit of a sore topic for her. When I asked, she told me that the dad was an asshole that refused to let her see them, and that was the first and last time it was brought up. Of course, later I'd realize the real reasons behind her lack of custody,

but at the time I didn't want to upset her, so I didn't pry into it further. And here I was, still unable to shake her out of my life. This was really putting a damper on my plans of doing absolutely nothing on a rare stretch of days. I unlocked the door and walked into the house, setting my bags down inside. You can put yours down with mine here. No reply. I turned back and saw Matt had not followed me in yet. He stood right outside the doorway.

Head tilted. Eyes on mine. Hey, come on inside. It's getting dark out here and the porch light had busted. I shepherd the boy into my living room and onto the couch. I sat across from him in an armchair. After a couple of minutes of awkward silence, I asked him why Jenny had dropped him off at my doorstep.

There was no one else. None close enough. Matt hadn't yet blinked. His eyes were wide and dark. They reminded me of a shark or some other cold-blooded animal. I rubbed my eyes warily and groaned. That didn't surprise me. The only bridges that Jenny hadn't burned were shady characters that had no business

taken care of a kid. Not that I had any idea how to either, but at least you didn't have to worry about Matt stepping on a dirty needle or seeing God knows what at a wild house party. And Marilyn, Jenny's mother, God, I did not want to have to deal with her again. But I figured she'd be my best bet to pass along the kid. She lived about four hours away. Likely why he had been dropped in her care to begin with, but I'd be more than happy to make the drive. I just needed to call her to get the address. I glanced at my phone.

Nearly 9 o'clock. I looked over at the boy. He'd been staring at me blankly the whole time. I'm not a fan of kids, to be honest. I don't hate them. I'm just never around them much. But this kid gave me the creeps. I wondered why she had to leave him behind so quickly

and why he was with her in the first place. I hope she had checked herself on her. rehab getting help before she could talk herself out of it again and not something nefarious. Do you, uh, do you want some food? Matt shook his head. Not hungry? Okay. Um, are you tired? It's getting kind of late. When's your bedtime? He shrugged. This is like pulling teeth. Come on. Patrick, get it together. You're the adult here. I pulled out some spare sheets and an extra pillow. the couch into a makeshift bed. I opened the backpack and found a couple changes of clothes and some toil trees. I handed Matt a pair of PJs and a toothbrush and guided him to the bathroom.

Once he shut the door, I wandered into my own bedroom and pulled out my phone. I tried calling Jenny first. The number you are trying to call is no longer in service. I wasn't that surprised. Her not paying her phone bill or losing her phone had always been a point of tension. while we were together. I sighed. Stealing myself, I dialed Maryland's number. After a few rings, it put me through to voicemail. I left a quick one, stammering out a couple of sentences,

explaining what was going on and to call me back ASAP. Then hung up. Should I call the police? I didn't want to get Jenny in trouble. Not if she was trying to turn things around. Besides, I had no idea where she was currently. since she moved to a new apartment after the breakup. I walked down into the living room and was surprised to see Matt already fast asleep on the couch.

It hit me just how exhausted I was. It had been an insane week at work, and I'd put in a nearly 11-hour shift. Yawning and I decided that I'd be able to deal with everything better after getting some rest. I double-checked all the locks and then got into bed, leaving my door open a crack in case anything happened, and Matt, needed me. I passed out almost immediately. Daddy, daddy. My eye shot open. The soft glow of the alarm clock illuminated a pair of eyes inches from my own. Shit. I scrambled upright. Jesus, Matt, he scared me. I'm sorry. I frowned. I'm not your dad. The eyes stared,

unblinking. Oh, I could barely make out his outline in the dark. Are you okay? There's a monster trying to get in. Monsters aren't real. You probably had a bad dream. Like I said, I'm not great with kids. Go back to bed, okay? Can I sleep in here with you?

No, I don't think that's appropriate. I can sleep on the floor. I didn't like the thought of that, but I was too tired to argue. Okay, sure. I guess. Up until that point, Matt hadn't seemed very emotive. He hadn't laughed or smiled or cried,

but when I said that, he grinned wide. And something about it made my stomach flip. Maybe it was the way the green light bounced off of his teeth, evoking the image of a Cheshire cat or maybe a wolf. I stayed frozen as he disappeared beneath the side of my bed. I couldn't see him, but I could hear his soft breathing. And every once in a while, he'd make this odd clicking sound,

the way one might against the roof of your mouth with your tongue. It took me a long time to fall back asleep, and when I did, it was fitful. I woke to knocking on the front door. The clock read 11 o'clock. I must have slept straight through an alarm. Sunlight streamed in through the cracks in the blinds. making me squint. I peeked over the edge of the bed,

half hoping last night was just a weird dream. But the crumpled blanket and pillow were still laying on the floor. Matt, however, was not. I hastily pulled on some jeans and made my way to the front door. The boy was in the living room, staring blankly at the TV.

It was off. Morning, I said, a little nervously. Here, let me help. I switched on the TV. A solemn-looking news anchor stood above a running banner reading, S-word epidemic has experts. I quickly flipped through channels before landing on something more child-friendly.

The knocking got louder. Okay, okay, I'm coming. I jogged to the door and cracked it open. Were you still sleeping? It's almost noon. What? Did you forget your hot, awesome girlfriend was coming over? She winked playfully, smiling.

I blinked, still groggy. Yeah, I had. With the long workday yesterday and all of the strangeness of last night's event, I had totally forgotten about our plans. Sheepishly, I grinned. I'm sorry, it's been a long night. Her eyes wandered over my shoulder, and her smile faltered slightly.

Who's that? It's kind of a long story. Come on in, I'll make you some kind of. coffee. A few minutes later, I had gotten her up to speed. She did not look pleased. How long is he going to be staying here? Not long, I answered quickly. I mean, shouldn't be. I led her into the living room. Matt looked at us out of the corner of his eye, but didn't say anything. I cleared my throat. Matt, this is my, uh, my friend. Claire, she interrupted, finishing my sentence. Nice to meet you, Matt.

She wasn't very convincing. Maybe she thinks he's secretly my kid. She turned back to me. So now is not a good time? No, I sputtered. No, it's fine. Stay. I smiled weekly at her.

It's just for a few days. If that, I promise. I felt claustrophobic suddenly. Hey, I could do with some fresh air. Get out of the house for a bit. Claire looked a little uncomfortable, glancing over at Matt. I don't know, maybe we should stay in. We can grab a bite to eat, make a date out of it, my treat.

About an hour later, we were all seated on the outdoor patio of a little cafe downtown. I had brought some paper and markers along, hoping to keep the kid entertained while we waited. A waiter brought a pitcher of water and a couple of cups to our table. Hey, we'll actually need one more. I gestured towards Matt. I was half worried he'd asked us to put the markers away. The tablecloth was white, but the waiter didn't even look at the boy. Just apologized.

I'll bring another right away. Are you ready to order? I nodded. I'll have the burger, medium well, side of fries. He scribbled away at his pen pad. Anything else? Yeah, a chicken tender's basket with a How about the fruit cup? And I paused for Claire to order.

But the waiter just kept looking at me expectantly. Claire cleared her throat and pointed down at my menu. And a chicken Caesar salad, please. Thanks. I later ordered the waiter. He noted and wrote the rest of it down. Hungry, huh? I'll have the extra glass out in just a second.

He walked off and I poured some water for Matt and Claire. figuring it would be the chivalrous thing to do, to wait on the third myself. As I was sliding the last one over to Matt, who was now fully absorbed in his drawing, a snippet of conversation caught my attention. Worried about her, you know. She called me up the other day to tell me her daughter was visiting, asking if I wanted to make the drive up to see them, but like my aunt died nearly a decade ago.

I looked over out of the corner of my eye, not wanting to seem nosy. Two young women were sitting at the table across from us. One was nodding sympathetically, hand over the others. Mine had memory issues, dementia, I guess. Towards the end, too, it might be time to consider. Pat, are you with us? Claire interrupted my eavesdropping.

I was asking you how work has been lately. Embarrassed, I turned my attention to her. I vented about my job for a bit and apologized again for forgetting about our date, which she laughed off. It's okay, Pat. Don't worry about it. We've been together for, well, a year next week. Time's gone by so fast.

I know it's not as X... Her voice trailed off. I noticed the girls at the other table were now trying to steal glances at us, whispering among themselves nervously. I followed Claire's gaze to Matt. I had almost forgotten he was there. He hadn't said a peep the entire time.

He had the red marker in his hands and was putting some finishes touches on his drawing. I craned my neck to get a better view. He had drawn what looked like a crow. Its eyes scratched out with little X's. The neck flopped to the side at an awkward angle. He was dotting its head with the red ink, which I assumed was meant to be blood.

Hey, uh, what's your drawing there? I kept my voice light. He didn't answer. Just smirked slightly and kept a couple of them. working. He was holding his left hand rigidly under the table, something that I normally wouldn't notice except his eyes would dark down to his lap every couple of seconds. Claire and I exchanged a worried glance. Matt, I said softly, what do you have under there? He slowly raised his hand so we could see what he held. When I gasped, he dropped it quickly onto the table. It was a crow.

its head twisted sharply to the side. A fleck of red smeared off onto the light tablecloth. I found it. That grin again. It looked so unnatural on the face of a child. All right, so I'm so sorry about the wait, sir. It's been a busy, a glass clanged against the patio. Of course, the waiter picked the absolute worst time to return.

He stared at the dead bird. then up to me. I apologize profusely, handing him my card and a hefty cash tip before asking to get everything to go. He complied quickly this time, and I grabbed the bags in one hand and mat with the other, quickly crumpling the drawing

and shoving it deep into my pockets before ushering the boy in a mortified Claire into the car. Once the three of us were back home, I asked Claire to keep an eye on Matt and excuse myself to try and call James Jenny again. I turned on the TV in my bedroom on low to keep my voice from carrying into the living room. The number you were trying to call is no longer in service. I dialed Marilyn once more and was robotically informed her voicemail was full. I slammed my phone down onto the bed.

Fuck! This was not the relaxing time I'd hope for. Of all the kids in the world, of course I get stuck with the poster boy for the next horror blockbuster. Another strange case in which the would-be perpetrator tried to turn himself in for. Ultimately, a crime that police say never actually took place. The woman whose name cannot be released at this time said the boy claimed to be her nephew, whom she hadn't. I swivel towards the TV. Straining to make out the muffled words.

After conducting an extensive search, it was determined that the teenager she claimed she killed most likely never existed in the first place. Neighbors report no. The signal cut out for a moment. I heard a clap of thunder in the distance. Claim self-defense, stating that the intruders exhibiting odd behavior posed an active threat to their lives.

However, when they tried to show law enforcement the crime scene, the bodies seem apparently to vanish and too thin. What the hell? I ran my hands wildly around the bed to find the remote, knocking it off in the process. Once I retrieved it, I turned up the volume in my notch or two, hoping the closed door would still muffle it enough. Follows on the heels of two other similar cases this week alone.

Though in the first we covered, a family member did report seeing the supposed female. However, their testimony has been called into question by, I know you're not my dad. I jumped. Matt had the door slightly open and was staring at me through the cramined. I hastily turned off the TV.

What? I know you're not my dad because my dad is dead. Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. He stared at me for a very uncomfortable moment before closing the door. Once I heard the footsteps fade down the hall, I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. I was shaking. Get it together, man.

It's a kid, a creepy kid, sure, but his mom. Mom's a crackhead. What kid wouldn't be a little messed up in the head from all that? I glanced at the dark screen of the now silent TV, and people have always been a little crazy. We're only seeing these non-existent patterns now because we're so connected. We have all the information in the world at our fingertips these days. Footsteps approach my room once again, followed by a soft knock.

Hey, it's me. Can I, uh, can I come in? To my relief, it was Claire. Yeah, no problem. She sat on the bed with me. Legs crossed. I'm going to stay with you tonight, if that's okay. Just in case. She lowered her voice slightly, glancing toward the now wide open door.

That really freaked me out. At the restaurant? I'm not saying this kid is dangerous, but it wouldn't hurt to have an extra pair of eyes and ears, you know. I nodded. kissing her forehead gratefully. Hey, have you watched the news lately by any chance? No, she frowned. Why should I?

I hesitated a moment before answering. Nah, things are just so depressing in the world right now. It's good to take a break. I figured I was just being paranoid. And I didn't want her thinking I was losing it. Maybe you should take a break from watching it too. You seem tense. She smiled, thin,

also i thought you said jennifer had a daughter did i i frowned jen and i had barely discussed her child it was possible i had to remember correctly or at all must have been mistaken we ate our boxed lunch now technically our dinner in silence matt didn't present us with any more dead animals thankfully but every so often i caught him shooting a dark look towards claire she didn't seem to notice and i did a want to bring it to her attention by calling him out on it. Later that night, I once again arranged the couch into a makeshift bed, and he settled in without complaint. I felt bad for him then. He didn't ask to be here. Hey, I've been trying to get in contact with your mom and grandma. I know it's no fun staying here.

I'm sorry. I'm not used to kids around. I'm sure I'll be able to talk to them soon. Figure this out. Okay. Another soft click. I suppose he had a nervous tick. Try to stay out here this time, okay?

Okay. His eyes again seemed to darken for a moment, and I suppressed a shudder. I patted his shoulder awkwardly. All right, uh, good night then. Claire was waiting for me in the bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the bed. Is this legal?

What? I mean, are you going to get in trouble for having him here? here? What if your ex tried to say you kidnapped him? She gestured vaguely towards the direction of the living room. And why the hell would she do that? She was upset about the breakup, yeah, but not that upset. She stared at me as they talked, arms crossed. I tried softening my tone. I mean, he's just visiting. It's not against the law to have a friend's or acquaintances kid at your house. I want him gone. soon. For a brief moment, an odd look passed over her face. It didn't look like this sweet woman I'd been dating. I was taken aback. But then, it was back to normal. So fast, I wasn't sure I had

seen it at all. That's not really your call, is it? It's my house. It came out harsher than I intended. She was out of line, but I wasn't trying to start a fight. I knew the kid was making her uncomfortable just like me. She laid down and adjusted her pillow slightly and I saw something glint beneath it, reflecting the light from the lamp. Claire, what'd you put under there? When she didn't answer right away, I pulled up the side of the pillow to see for myself. What the hell, Claire? A knife? She stared at me. Face unreadable. It's just a precaution. Like I said, he scared me earlier.

I don't trust him. This is insane. He's a little kid, Claire. I was pissed. But half of the anger was coming from a little voice in my mind saying she might be right. I pushed the thought away. Just leave if you're that freaked out. She huffed and turned angrily to the side, facing away from me.

I sighed and turned off the lamp. The cold pit in my stomach growing big. For once, the dark made me uneasy instead of relaxed. Needing the distraction, I rummaged around my nightstand for my earbuds, popping one in and turning my phone's brightness all the way down so as not to disturb Claire. I scrolled through YouTube shorts. I've stubbornly refused to download TikTok, and the comedy skits did help put me at ease. That is, until a weird one popped up. The camera was pointed at an open front door, but from an awkward, low angle off to the side.

As if the person filming was trying not to be obvious. I couldn't see through the doorway from the vantage point. Only a woman with her back turned towards the camera, holding open a door. Suppressed laughter kept causing the image to unfocus and shake. Jess, why did you even invite her? Someone unseen whispered. low voices agreed i guess there were three or four girls behind the camera

dude my mom made me i think she feels sorry for her i didn't want to she's a total freak she's like the girl from the grudge or like a vampire for real would it kill her to get some son once in a while once snickered i assumed the woman at the door was her mother she was talking to whoever was outside i turned the volume up trying to make out what she was saying No problem at all.

Both of you come right on in. Oh my freaking God, no way. She brought an imaginary friend, fits of poorly muffled giggles all around. That's so freaking crazy, even for her. The mother must have heard the laughter because she turned and shot a quick glare at the group, as she did a small, pale girl appear behind her,

stepping through the doorway. The group hastily shoved the phone into the couch before she fully entered. video going dark. I thought back to my less-than-popular school days. Middle schoolers can be absolutely brutal, as I remembered all too well. But after recent events, the video just got to me.

A kid showing up randomly, acting creepy. It hid a little too close to home, and as silly as it made me feel, the vampire comment admittedly freaked me out. I thought back to Matt, standing rigidly right outside the floor. threshold, waiting for me to invite him in. How pale he was.

He didn't say Jenny was his mother. I assumed, and he barely agreed. I clicked on the account name. The most recent video had only been posted an hour ago, less than a day after the one I just watched. A girl's tear, streaked face filled a thumbnail. A small smear of something suspiciously rust-colored, dotted her t-shirt. I clicked nervously, but the video was stuck buffering.

Damn storm. I thought that 5G crap was supposed to fix all this. Patrick, you need to get some sleep. Claire's voice was right by my ear. She laughed a little when I jumped. I closed the app quickly. My phone was about to die anyway, so I handed it to Claire, asking her to plug it into the outlet on her side.

And she agreed before rolling back over. I shut my eyes, willing myself to sleep. Eventually, I did manage to pass out for about an hour until my eyes shot open. Something had woken me, but I couldn't immediately pinpoint what. I rolled over to look at Claire, but she was still facing away, sleeping peacefully. Click. Matt. I squinted, tried to find his silhouette in the darkness, but I couldn't.

I shifted uneasily. Click. Matt, is that you, I whispered? No one answered, but I heard a slight rustling. I thought back to the other night, how he laid on the floor. I inched toward the edge of the bed and peered over. My eyes having adjusted to the darkness somewhat? Nothing.

My stomach flipped as an unsettling thought popped into my head, and I slowly swung my feet off the bed until I was. was standing upright. It'd be a tight squeeze, yes, but he was small enough. An image of him. Teethed barred sharp and limbs contorted tightly. Flashed unbidden in my mind. I quietly got down onto my knees,

craning my neck to look underneath the bed. I took a deep breath and swept my gaze back and forth and nothing. Click. The feeling of being watched raised the hairs on my neck. I whipped around, eyes landing on the closet. I saw something move behind the slats. Matt? Is that you? Click, click, click, click, click.

Heart in my throat, I closed the distance and threw open the door. Matt was crouched in the corner of the closet. Wide-eyed. He held something tightly behind his back. Give it to me. I spoke low but forcefully, hoping he couldn't see how much I was shaking. Now. He dropped a jagged shard of glass on the floor.

I thought back to the shocked waiter, shattering the cup on the patio. Had he been hiding it this whole time? Why? I hurriedly scooped it up, nearly slicing my thumb open in the process. What the hell do you think you're doing? He held my gaze. Killing monsters. Click.

Go. I pointed towards the door. Do not come in. back in here, you hear me? Stay on the couch and don't move. I'll be out in a minute to talk. He slunk past me quietly. I stood vigilantly by the door until I heard the creek of him clambering onto the couch. I can't do this. I can't. I've got to get him out tonight. But where could I take him? I pulled on my hair in desperation. I glanced over at Claire, still fast asleep somehow.

Call mom. She'll know. Why haven't I thought to call my own mother? It was well past midnight. But where my mother lived, it wouldn't be much past ten. I patted softly to the side of the bed where Claire was sleeping, careful not to wake her. My phone was charging on the floor next to her.

I unplugged it from the outlet and hurried into the hall bedroom, shutting the door behind me. She picked up on the second ring. Patrick. She sounded panicked. I've been trying to call you all night, I frowned. Pulling up the call logs. It was empty.

Honey, have you seen the news? Her anxiety was only heightening my own. Yeah, a little, but hey, mom, something is really wrong, hon. I wish you were here. I don't like the thought of you living alone with everything going on. She paused. My neighbor. You might remember Betty.

She died last night. Oh my God, Mom, what happened? The police say she committed S word. She sounded dubious. But you don't think so? Well, they found her in the bathroom. You know, one of those actually built into the wall. I glanced uneasily at my own shower.

So why don't you think she did it? It certainly looks like she did, but Patrick, all these cases on the news, she paused. Betty had a visitor for a few days leaning up to her death. She introduced me as a cousin, but she's told me before. Both her parents were an only child. Okay, so maybe second cousin or whatever they're called. Mom, slow down. I need, no, just listen for a minute.

Are other neighbors? They didn't seem to notice him. I mentioned him to Paul next door, and he said Betty didn't have anyone staying with her, but I had seen both Betty and her cousin at his door earlier that day. It looked like Betty was returning a book she must have borrowed. She took a breath. And then she wasn't reported deceased until her daughter stopped by to check on her. If this cousin was staying there, he must have seen her body.

The daughter, Anna's her name. She said there wasn't any signs someone had been staying there at all. She didn't know her mother had any cousins either. And Patrick, there was no car besides Betty's old sedan in her driveway the entire time. How did he get there? How did he leave? I had seen him just the night before. It just doesn't make sense.

Well, maybe he took an Uber. I trailed off weekly. I didn't even believe about myself, and I knew she wouldn't either. Mom, make sure you keep your doors locked, okay? Don't let anyone in if you haven't specifically asked them over. Maybe call your friend, what's her name, to stay with you for a while. She agreed, then asked. Is everything okay?

I'm glad you called, of course, but it must have been, what, one o'clock over there? What are you doing up? She paused. I know things have been tough for you lately with, you know, I worry about you, living so far away. I realized that I didn't have the heart to scare right now. Not when she was already so worked up and could have come to see me. I'm just returning your calls, seeing if you're all right, couldn't sleep. After hanging up, I slumped up against the tub, heart beating out on my chest. I'd been hoping to get some advice, but.

instead our conversation had only cemented my suspicion, slowly building since that first day. That Matt just wasn't a troubled child. He was something more, something potentially otherworldly, and he was dangerous. I'd begun wrapping my head around all of this when I heard a yelp and a sharp crack, followed by a thud. Shit, Claire, how could you leave her alone? I raised back to the bedroom, flipping the source. switch to the overhead light.

Oh my God, I breathed. Blood was slowly soaking into the white sheets. Claire was holding her shoulder. I had to. She looked at me blankly. He stabbed me, Patrick. I was just trying to get him off me. I saw a pair of small feet peeking out behind the end of the bed.

Slowly I walked around. Revealing Matt sprawled across the floor. His neck was twisted unnaturally to the side. Blood, flicked his lips. Just like the bird, I thought feverishly. Like the crow. He hit the bedpost.

I didn't mean to. I turned towards Claire. I stared at her, speechless. I didn't know what to feel. Seeing someone dead is absolutely horrific, of course. And his pale face burned in my mind, but was he even a child? And for it to be self-defense,

honestly, a very, very small part of me felt relieved. It didn't have to be me. It was over. I swallowed the bile creeping up my throat, head pounding. Claire, we need to get you to a hospital. No, she snapped loudly. She lowered her voice. No, it's not that deep. I'll go wrap it up. I buried my face in my hands as she walked off. I knew I should probably call the cops, but they wouldn't notice the body, would they? they'd throw me in the loony bin like they did with all the others i'd lose my job i'd lose the house my life would be ruined even more than it already had this is insane this is way too insane oh my god why did all of this have to happen to me to us when claire returned a bandaged plastered neatly around her arm she helped me strip the bed we wrapped the body in the sheets and dragged it into the bathroom in silence the body will be gone in the morning it'll be gone like the others on the news It was self-defense.

He wasn't human. Claire laid down on the bare mattress and closed her eyes. We were both exhausted, but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. I left her there and fell onto the sofa. I pulled up the search engine on my phone and typed Mystery Visitor Murder. I needed answers. The screen-loaded pages of results all from the past month. The first one was a write-up recapping the news report I saw

earlier in the day. A thumbnail of a low-resolution YouTube video read Kill or Be Killed and Bold above a conspiracy nut-looking dude, my mean holding a gun. I rolled my eyes and scrolled past. Finally clicking on a short firm video that caught my eye. A manic-looking face filled my screen. Not everyone could see them. That's how you can test it. The teenager talked rapidly as she filmed herself in a car. I think from the research of done, the people I've talked to. My theory is that only people who have seen someone die or dead can see them, the visitors. She sucked in a deep breath. I saw my grandfather die when I was 10. I could see my uncle. She threw exaggerated air quotations as she said this. When I came home from

school, mom said he was visiting. I'd never met him before. When my brother got home later that night, he ignored the guy and just went to his room. I thought he was being just an asshole like usual. her face screwed up and she paused to wipe a tear running down her cheek my mom died that night I found her in her bed she had pills stuffed down her throat

the one she keeps in her bedside table another pause for another tear she wiped it away angrily the police say she committed S word that I invented this uncle as a COVID mechanism my brother thinks I'm mental she looks straight at the camera

defiant but people will see soon it's all over the news now People are catching on, and whoever finds the body well, now they're suspect a super. She's somewhat over the word for a minute. They're susceptible to them now. It's an invasion. It's spreading.

Don't invite them in. The video ended there. I sat silently, considering her chilling words. My mother and I, when her car crash in Os 12, my dad, the driver, didn't make it. What she was saying made sense. At least as much sense as anything else about this did. my eyelids felt like lead and my head was pounding. The late and interrupted nights were taking its toll.

Insomnia slowly leading my thoughts to a dull crawl. Flashes of Matt's dark, lifeless eyes kept warming into my head. Somehow, I must have managed to fall asleep because I woke to the sound of my phone blasting my ringtone in my ear. Unknown number. My stomach churned uneasily as I answered it. birds chirped merrily outside the window hello hey patrick this is jen i sat up suddenly wide awake i'm so sorry i'm just could now callin i left the rehab early my mother died and i have to deal with her things she uh committed s word jenny started crying I'm getting myself on track, Pat.

I swear, but it's my fault. She's been done with me for a long time now. I didn't tell her I was getting help. I wanted it to be a surprise, and now she's gone and it's all my fault. She hiccuffed weekly. I'll come by tomorrow to pick up Matt, like I wrote in the letter. He can be a handful.

He hasn't been right since he saw his dad die, and I'm so sorry, but I really didn't have anyone else. I just, she kept talking. But the ringing in my ears drowned her out. My mind was struggling. to connect the dots. Letter? What letter? Matt isn't real. He doesn't exist. Jenny has a daughter? He? He? My eyes wandered toward the shut bathroom door. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, Jesus Christ. Patrick, are you still there? Is it okay to come by tomorrow around noon? That's the earliest I can get there.

If I could come sooner, I would. I'll have to ask my girlfriend. I croaked out hoarsely. I walked dazed at my bedroom. shutting the door behind me. Claire wasn't in bed. I heard water running in the bathroom. I didn't know you had a girlfriend. Yeah, we've been dating for a year now. An uncomfortable thought was trying to weasel to the front of my mind.

A year, but... What, Pat? We broke up four months ago. Are you saying you were cheating on me, Patrick? The phone dropped out of my hand. I was suddenly aware how quiet it was. The water in the bath had been shut off. I held my breath.

Patrick who are you talking to? Claire's voice floated from behind the door. Low and cold. Tap, tap. It didn't sound like a knock. It sounded like something sharp against the wood. I shoved Claire's pillow off the bed. The knife was gone.

Can I come in? I could hear the predatory grin in her voice. The true wolf in sheep's clothing. I sank onto the mattress. Mind racing. Your co-workers have noticed you've been depressed lately, calling out more often. People know it's the anniversary of your dad's death.

People will be sad but not surprised. They'll say the signs were there. I started hyperventilating. The waiter. The two women at the cafe, they saw me with Matt. They saw me turn to the empty chair next to me, talking to him loud to no one. They'll find Matt's body.

It won't disappear because he's just. real. They'll think you killed him. That you snapped under the pressure. They'll say you couldn't handle the guilt once you came to your senses. Sour bile creeped up my throat. I felt like I was going to throw up. Tap. You'll invite me in. A soft, cruel laugh. I can wait all day. I'll wait all night long. And I believed her. So that's where I am now. I decided to take this time to send a message to my mom to tell her I love her. I also spent a few hours writing this all down. I know I could have kept it short.

And I know most people will think it's all bullshit that I'm just trying to cover my tracks, but I really want you to understand. To put yourself in my shoes and see why things happened the way they did, also I took my time riding to delay the inevitable. I'll be calling 911 shortly to let them know they'll find two bodies. Because Claire is right.

My life is over. One way or another, I will let her in. So if anyone is reading this and you think you know me, if you're a friend or a loved one, I'm sorry. Jenny, I'm so unbelievably sorry. It's an invasion and it's spreading. Be careful who you invite into your home. I taught my dog to use talking buttons.

What she told me terrified me. My dog, Cookie, is a high-energy papillon mix with big furry eyes and tufts of long fur. And when I first adopted her, I almost returned her because of the first three days she wouldn't stop crying.

Now, of course, she is my baby. One thing that helped a lot with her energy levels and her constant boredom was the buttons. I'm sure you've seen. seen them. Those buttons you record with your voice that dogs can press to say things like food or play or outside. Some people even train their cats with them. Cookie is up to 20 buttons. Sometimes she'll hit nonsense sequences, of course, and she seems to think, ouch is a reaction to surprise. Also, I'm not sure if she grasps the emotions, mad, sad, and love you.

Though on days when I'm curled up on my sofa crying from the stress at work and she hits Love You, of course I want to believe she knows what it means. Even if she doesn't, it still makes me feel better. But even though she's imperfect in talking with her paws, cookie is well trained and intentional, at least with most of her tangible wants like outside and food. Though, I'll admit, it's annoying to be woken up. in the middle of the night with demands for food food food anyways one night i was woken up by the sound of my recorded voice from the living room stranger this was followed by the pattering of

cookies little paws followed by stranger outside i admit my heart skipped to beat i lay in bed huddled under the blankets reluctant to get up and investigate For a long while, holding my breath, I lay there in silence. I listened to the dog's footsteps, meander around in the main room. Finally, she pressed food a few times before coming back into the bedroom and curling up in her bed by the nightstand. In the morning, I checked around outside the house, but found no traces of anything unusual. I also did a Google search and laughed when I realized how many people have been spooked by their pets pressing stranger. I also creeped myself out with a story in the daily mirror of a woman whose dog pressed cold stranger.

According to the article, the woman was spooked by her dog's warnings of this cold stranger in the corner of her living room. But in my case, Cookie wasn't warning me of any ghosts. One morning, she hit Stranger before running to the door and growling. This was a correct usage of the button as a UPS driver was outside. When the doorbell rang, she actually barked, something she rarely does. Her hackles raised, tail down and ears flat. I had to apologize to the driver as I accepted the package and, cookie kept rumbling, low and deep in her throat.

I told her, go away, and she skulked off. Behind me somewhere, I heard the button for stranger again. Sorry, I told the driver, who was laughing. She doesn't like strange men. She sounds smart, then. Do those buttons actually work? He was intrigued. Outside.

Yeah, she seems to know them pretty well. So, food, mad. Sometimes she presses them kind of randomly too, I admitted. Okay, well, she sounds mad and like she wants food. Have a good day. I don't know what cookies' history was before being adopted, but she's always been leery of men, at least until they've bribed her with her favorite thing.

Food. In any case, later that afternoon, she pressed stranger again, and when I looked outside, there was a turkey in our front yard. That's when it struck me. The other night, Cookie must have seen a raccoon or some other animal

that was a stranger to her. But then came the incident that made me rethink everything. I'd just come back from a visit with my parents, and as soon as Cookie and I walked in, her hackles raised. I was unloading bags when I heard it.

Stranger. Home. The Sente cross. of icy fingers up my spine. Cookie wasn't growling or barking, but she was unusually alert. Strangerware, I asked, when Cookie just looked at me.

I repeated myself. She looked around the room, and then she trotted off to wander through the kitchen, came back out and went down the hall to the bedroom, came back to me and wandered over to the buttons. Smell. God. The chills I felt then.

Did this mean there was a lingering smell of some stranger? Could it have been a strange animal? A squirrel that got in through the window, maybe? Or the smell of something I brought in from outside? I went walking around the house. No signs of forced entry, though I do keep a key under a flower pot that anyone with half a brain and determination to break in could probably find.

it's a safe neighborhood, so I hadn't thought much of it. Now, though, I removed the key and decided I'd get a lockbox for the front door instead. After I found a footprint in the damp soil below the window, I also decided to install cameras. Cookie, meanwhile, had calmed down, and when I came back inside, I found her camped beside the food button. But the real reason I swear by these buttons and how beneficial they can be, is because of what happened the next week. I was out doing some gardening and heard my name called by Greg, my supervisor at work. He was out jogging and we struck up a conversation.

He asked if he could have some water and I let him in for a drink. And as usual, cookie was growling, tail tucked and ears back just like with the delivery driver. I told her to go away and she backed off. though wouldn't stop giving Greg the stink eye. He had made himself at home in the armchair by the TV area and was remarking on what a nice place I have and asking, is it just you here? When I heard my recorded voice from the living room,

stranger, smell. Now, the fact Greg had appeared on my street, casually jogging up the sidewalk, well, it had sent up some red flags. He'd always been a little creepy as a supervisor. Not enough to go to bring a complaint forward or anything, but enough that I felt awkward about seeing him on my street. So when Cookie pressed the buttons saying she smelled a stranger,

it set my pulse racing. Could this be the same stranger she smelled on the day I found the footprint outside the window? I told Greg I had to take Ralph, for a quick potty break, and while outside, I phoned a friend and asked them to pretend it was an emergency. I came back in with my friend shouting loudly enough on my phone for Greg to overhear. And I told him something, it'd come up, and I had to run. We both went outside, and I locked up and got to my car and waited until he was gone before I went back inside my house. I checked the cameras, wondering if I'd find evidence of him snooping around my house, but there was nothing.

I assume that my fears had been overblown. That may be I had freaked out at Greg unfairly, and Cookie had pressed those buttons because she didn't like men. But two days later, the cameras caught him. On a Saturday afternoon when my car was gone and I was obviously not home. Greg came strolling up my sidewalk. He looked around, seemingly. trying to act casual, and then he went right to the potted plant, which he lifted, searching for the

key. I felt nauseated watching the footage, and glad I had trusted my gut and cookies' warnings about the bad vibes I was getting from him. I arranged to have the locks changed and a security system installed and informed my neighbors to be on the lookout. out. I did some extra button practice with Cookie to make sure she'd alert me if necessary. When I informed my boss, Greg was immediately let go. He sent me some expletive-filled, threatening email and messages accusing me of ruining his life before I blocked him and filed

a restraining order. This was all weeks ago. But the reason I'm writing about it now is because yesterday. Cookie hit the stranger button again. Of all the buttons, that one always got a reaction from me. I immediately got up and asked her, Stranger, where? She turned a circle and wind,

and then pressed home. That sent my pulse through the roof. I checked all through the house. No signs of intrusion. Nothing on camera either. My fluttering heart slowed. No stranger, I told her. She sulked in, wandered away.

She was out of sorts the rest of the evening. Then today, she hit the button again. Mad, she pushed, and then, stranger, mad. It was nonsensical. I found myself trying to piece together, meaning the way, so many other owners do when their dogs use buttons in a way that doesn't make sense. Was she calling me a stranger because I haven't given her off treats or pets lately? As in, don't be a stranger.

But I knew that was a huge stretch. Was she saying she was mad because I wasn't listening to her about the stranger? Maybe. But there was no stranger. I checked everywhere, including the camera. And then, because that button in particular always got me extra freaked out, I looked up Greg, just to make sure he hadn't resumed stalking me. I went to his socials, where it was clear from his recent posts he still definitely held a grudge.

He'd made a bunch of rants blaming me for his life spiraling ever since his job loss. Other posts claimed he had nothing left to live for. but the one part that chilled me to the core, I found his obituary. He committed S word two days ago. My brother called me from the hospital while he was sitting in my car. Blake and I haven't spoken in almost 17 years. He was the older one, six years older than me.

He always treated me like a kid. and our parents, well, how should I put it? I think he hated them. When our father died, Blake said flat out that he wouldn't come to the funeral. He didn't want to hear about any of it. He screamed at our mother and he told me to go to hell too, for always taking our parents' side, even though, according to him, they didn't deserve it. I was angry with him for a long time. When Blake turned 18, he left home, and I was left alone with her mother. Her condition slowly got worse. I took care of her for 10 years, and when I was 22, she died too.

It was horrible. I loved my parents, and losing both of them pulled me into a deep, dark place. But the worst part was Blake's behavior. When I called him to tell him that our mother had died, he only said she deserved it. I was furious with Blake. He didn't even come to her funeral. I couldn't reach him afterward either. Maybe that was for the best.

It would have been nothing but arguing in chaos anyway. But when I was at the lawyer's office, handling our parents' will, Blake showed up. I snapped. I went after him like a madman. I insulted him in every way I could. Right there in the lawyer's office. I threw everything I had at him, asking how he could be such an asshole.

Our parents had raised us properly. They had done everything for us, and this is who we turned out to be? Blake didn't react to any of it. He was completely indifferent to my insults. He said he wasn't there for the money or our parents' estate. There was only one thing he cared about, selling the house we grew up. up in, selling it to someone who would promise to tear that filthy place down to the ground. That's when I completely lost it and attacked him.

We got into a violent fight. The police showed up and, yeah, the whole situation turned out pretty ugly. But that was a long time ago. The house was sold and Blake disappeared. I thought I would never hear from him again. I didn't even think when my phone rang. I was waiting for a package anyway, so I assumed it was the courier or something like that.

But when I picked it up, a familiar voice spoke on the other end. Hey, little brother, Blake said. Even after all these years, my stomach clenched. A whole world. A whole life I thought I had left behind came crashing back. Hearing Blake's voice through that phone made everything echo inside me. I talked to Blake then. Part of me felt like I should just hang up and tell him to go to hell. But he was my brother. Maybe it was time to forgive him after all these years. Six months passed.

Blake and I talked every week. You could say he'd grown up. Well, maybe. I'm not sure. Talking to Blake brought up a side of our parents I had never known. To them, I had always been there sweet little Max. They loved me. They took care of me. In my memories, Blake had received that same love. Our family had been a decent, honest, loving home. But Blake remembered things differently. When he first told me, I thought he was losing his mind again, trying to drag our parents' names through the dirt, but he insisted they had starved him, that they had done terrible things to him. He said there were times they locked him in the basement for days, tied him up, and wouldn't even let him use the bathroom. So he had no choice but to soil himself. And if that wasn't

enough, they punished him constantly. Our mother beat him with a leather belt almost every day. Our father preferred to choke him until he passed out. I didn't believe him. Not until during a video call, he showed me proof. His back, legs, and arms were covered in old scars, long marks like he'd been whipped. One of the joints on his index finger was missing. He said our father had cut it off with pruning shears when he was young. Blake was a tortured man with a tortured soul. And finally, I understood why he hated our parents so much. But my own world was turned upside down too. The people I had loved. The people whose absence still hurt like hell

had treated their other, older, childlike monsters. How could I not have noticed any of this when I was a kid? My conversations with Blake didn't stop. We texted almost every day. And whenever we had the time, we talked on the phone, but our childhood never came up again. Not because I didn't want to talk about it. On the contrary, I had a thousand questions.

questions for Blake. Questions that could have put everything in order. Still, something inside me felt, or maybe decided, that it was better not to dig any deeper. It felt like, aside from Blake, nothing remained for me from the past. Our parents were gone. There was no one left to ask what really happened. No one to tell me whether Blake was telling the truth. I have to admit, that was what held me back the most.

What if Blake was lying? 17 years is a long time. I had no idea where he'd been or what he'd done. He said he had lived in South Korea for a while. He'd had a family, but things hadn't worked out, and he was divorced now. He had a young daughter. He even showed me a picture of her. But still, I don't know.

What if he was lying? Why had her parents never hurt me? I couldn't hide my doubts forever. During one of our conversations, Blake asked why I'd been acting so strange lately. So I told him everything. Everything I felt and everything I was thinking. Surprisingly, Blake didn't get angry or defensive. Maybe it was because he was almost 50 years old by now.

Not the furious teenager who had once hated our parents. Blake didn't explain any of it. He didn't argue or try to justify himself. He just said he wanted to come see me. That caught me off guard. He told me he was sick. He hadn't wanted to worry me. But there were problems with his heart.

He wanted to see me while he still could. And to tell me everything in person. To explain why our parents had locked him in the basement for days and what they had done to him beyond the torture. I agreed. I can't even describe what I felt in that moment. finding out the truth about your family at 42 years old. What is a person supposed to say?

What are they supposed to feel? Blake booked a flight for two weeks later, and he asked just one thing of me to pick him up at the airport. When the day came for me to go pick up Blake, everything hit me at once. Emotions I had never felt before swirled inside me. I was afraid of meeting the brother I hadn't seen an almost 20 years.

The brother I'd never had an easy relationship with. At the same time, a childlike excitement burned inside me because it felt like Blake and I had never been this close before. I spent the entire morning pacing around the apartment, restless on edge. My wife and kids were already going crazy from it. They had been for days, so eventually they told me to just go already and head to the airport. I had plenty of time. During the whole drive, I kept running scenarios through my head.

What would I say when I finally saw Blake after all these years? How would I go greet him? What would he tell me about our childhood? What did he know about our family that I didn't? I felt childish, yet all I could think about was what was going to happen? I was already waiting at the airport. According to the board, Blake's plane had landed. There had been a delay earlier, but thankfully it arrived on time in the end.

I stood at the exit, nervous, waiting to catch my first glimpse of him. And when I did, that stubborn young man I hadn't seen in nearly 20 years, the one I'd last met in a fight so violent I ended up in the hospital, was now walking towards me in the body of an old man. He wasn't elderly. Not really, but the years and the years. and everything he'd been through were etched into his face. Max.

Blake stopped in front of me at the airport exit. It's been a long time, little brother. I thought I was going to cry right there. Nostalgia, emotion, everything hit me at once. Harder than the flower pot Blake had smashed over my head back in the lawyer's office. But I didn't cry. What kind of sight would that have been?

An old man breaking down in the middle of an airport? I swallowed hard, held back my tears, shook Blake's outstretched hand and patted him on the shoulder. That's for sure, Blake, I said with a faint smile. Then I took his bag and we headed it out to the parking lot. We talked the whole drive home. Nothing important. Just talking. Like two brothers, finally acting like brothers.

Blake was different from how I remembered him. He'd become an older man, calm and calm. cautious. If he'd been like this when he was younger, maybe it wouldn't have taken so long for us to find our way back to each other. Max, Blake said after a short stretch of quiet driving, could you take me to our old house now? Right now, I glanced to him as I passed a slower truck. Yeah, I just, uh, I want to get it over with. Blake said, his voice trembling. I nodded, feeling the weight of it. "'Ah, damn,' I said suddenly. "'But, Blake, I need to swing by home first.

"'I left my work phone there. "'It's really important.' "'Sure, Max.' "'Blake nodded tiredly. "'But after that, please. "'Deg me to the house.' "'I pressed down on the gas. "'Our old house was far from where we were.

"'If I went home first, "'I was looking at least a five-hour drive. "'I parked in front of our apartment building "'and jumped out of the car. "'I'll wait here. Blake called after me. You'll be faster without me. Uh, okay, I said, confused, but there's an elevator.

You come up. No, no, Blake waved it off. We just get stuck. I want to see the house today. I nodded and rushed inside, up to the loft, straight to the apartment. My wife and kids weren't home, either grocery shopping or at a nearby bakery. They'd said they were picking up a cake for Blake's arrival. I scribbled a quick note saying we'd be home late.

grabbed my work phone from the kitchen counter and hurried back towards the elevator. My phone rang in my hand, and I immediately looked at the screen, hoping it was something important. It was Blake. The phone I'd brought with me was my personal one, not the work phone. I'd mixed them up. The work phone had been with me the entire time. Blake, I answered. I'm coming. I'll be right there.

Where? Blake asked. Sounding exhausted? Max. down at the car with you i said confused as i stepped into the elevator max blake continued his voice tense i couldn't come to see you i got sick this morning i'm at the hospital i've been calling you for hours what i said stunned max i never got on the plane blake said sharply blake is this is this some kind of joke i said as I stepped out of the elevator. You're sitting in my car.

I'm coming right now. And then we're heading to mom and dad's house. Max, listen to me. Blake coughed into the phone. You can't take him back. What? I cut in, panic rising. Blake kept coughing, unable to continue.

There was a clattering sound like something being knocked over. Max, he said again. His voice strained. Max, my heart. Please. Promise me. Promise me you won't take him back. He can't go back.

Then there was a heavy thud on the line. Blake, I said. Terrified. Blake, are you okay? There was no answer. I could hear voices in the background. Doctors, maybe. I heard equipment rattling and people shouting urgently.

The call disconnected. My hands were shaking as I stepped outside through the front door. Despite the winter cold, I felt like I was about to burst into flames. I stared at my car, frozen in place. Blake was sitting inside. He was staring out the window. His eyes dull and unfocused. He just sat there, completely still, not even blinking. I stood there, unable to move, and then I saw his hand. The finger joint wasn't missing. The realization washed over me cold and absolute if that wasn't blake sitting in my car then who was it and why did he look exactly like him there are rules for using the bathroom in my apartment i finally understand why

when i moved into my new apartment the building owner came to talk to me about its rules the conversation seemed normal at first until she brought up the bathroom rules. She handed me a sheet of paper with a list of all the bathroom rules. I noticed that as she gave it to me, she looked at me with a mix of fear and firmness. Here's the list she gave me. Bathroom rules. Do not leave the tap running for more than two minutes between 10 p.m. and 5 a.m.

Do not flush the toilet between 10 p.m. and 2.30 a.m. Do not take a shower between 10 p.m. and 5 a.m. If any of the previous rules are broken, perform the entire process with your eyes closed. Resist the urge to open them. All of these rules must be followed exactly. No exceptions. All the rules seemed no. normal enough, just a bit specific. But the last one caught me off guard. It wasn't exactly difficult, just strange and oddly specific. But I didn't think these rules would stop me from staying in the apartment. The first week was normal. Nothing to report. I work night shifts, so I was never home during the hours restricted by the bathroom rules. But today was different. I was arriving at the apartment after a run. I looked at the clock. It was 9.33 p.m.

I was still a little far away, and I definitely wouldn't get there before 10 p.m. And I still needed to shower before work. I arrived at 10.11 p.m. I considered whether I should shower or just go to work as I was. Even though I was a bit hesitant about entering the bathroom, it was just a matter of keeping my eyes closed. How hard could that be? A simple shower, I thought.

Ten minutes and it would be over. Just don't open your eyes. But when I stood at the bathroom door, I wondered, what exactly counted as the process? From the moment I took off my clothes, from the moment I stepped into the bathroom, I thought the most logical starting point

was the moment I got into the bathtub and turned on the water. So I entered the bathroom, undressed, pulled back the shower curtains and stepped in. I looked carefully at where the shampoo and sponge were and tried to memorize their positions. I closed my eyes and turned on the water. I wasn't sure if I was expecting something to happen.

I just heard the water and my own breathing. I turned off the water and started applying the shampoo. Soon after, a scratching sound on the door invaded my ears. Then silence. Then the door slowly opened. I tried to calm myself and told myself I was imagining things, but I wasn't. I just needed to keep my eyes closed. A weak, ragged breathing filled the space.

It sounded like someone scraping a chalkboard. I froze completely. Was this the kind of thing the rule meant by resist the urge to open them? I just had to finish the shower. I couldn't turn back now. I turned on the water and continued. Keep my eyes closed. Now I could only hear the,

the water running and my breathing. The more I listened, the more terrified I became. Someone was in the bathroom with me. But now I couldn't hear anything else. I had no idea where they were, which was even more unsettling. But that didn't last long. I heard the curtains behind me being pulled aside in the breathing. I heard that rough breathing again, now closer.

I tried to keep going. I just had to finish the shower and keep my eyes closed. Keep my eyes closed. I must keep my eyes closed. I opened my eyes. I felt a finger with a long nail touching my spine. I turned around and nearly fell when I looked in front of me. A creature.

completely pale, as if its color had run off. Its eyes were very human, but they were hungry. It had no mouth or nose. Its head was just inside the curtains, and its arm was unnaturally long, ending in a hand with six long black nails, each at least two inches long. At the same time,

a strong smell of rotting flesh and bleach hit me, making me nauseous with an uncontrollable urge to vomit, but I didn't. I was too terrified, too. When it realized I was looking at it, it stared at me with confusion, which quickly turned into a sort of morbid joy. It stretched its arm toward me and scratched my chest with those six nails.

The pain was sharp, much stronger than you'd expect from just a scratch. I brought my hand to my chest and felt my blood running. It retreated behind the shower curtains, and I could see the shadow of its silhouette. It was much larger than the bathroom. It had to bend completely to fit. It was a thin creature,

and all its limbs were longer than anatomically possible. It opened the door and twisted its entire, body to leave. I think I heard something snap and break as it did. I could hear it, footsteps heading towards the apartment door, along with its breathing, which I turned into a high-pitched wheeze. About five minutes later, I heard my phone ringing, but I couldn't move. I spent at least another 20 minutes inside the bathroom.

When I finally got out, I looked around every corner of the air. apartment for any trace of the creature. Its footprints had left a kind of transparent slime that smelled like it. The footprints also had six toes. I went to the phone, which was still ringing. I answered, what did he do? It was the building owner. I didn't know. I answered with a weak, almost inaudible voice. You were supposed to follow the rules. Don't leave. I'm coming to you, and she hung up. A minute later, someone knocked on the door, but didn't say anything. I guessed it was too early for her.

I called her again, but she didn't answer. I stayed in the corner where I was. It's been half an hour, and I'm still here. Frozen. While someone keeps knocking on the door. I don't know if I should open it. I was in the corner of the room. The knocking on the door wouldn't stop.

I was starting to feel nauseous again. The creature's smell was still present in the space. I couldn't be there anymore. The scratch on my chest had stopped bleeding, but the pain had extended to all my body, a sharp throbbing pain. And some kind of boils began to appear near the wound. I grabbed my phone and sent a few messages to the

building owner. Is that you knocking at the door? Please, where are you? Please. The knocking on the door, which was at this point three quick knocks repeating every five seconds, had now stopped. Only my breathing again. The vibration of my phone broke the silence. She had answered, Don't go near the door. I'm working on a way to get you out. But first, I need you to put salt on your scratch. Suddenly, the thing at the door started hitting it. But also, there were other sounds of things falling and breaking, and a guttural scream emerged.

And then I understood, this thing was already inside. It was in my bathroom. I couldn't take my eyes off the bathroom door, thinking that at any second it would just open it. I hadn't locked it. nothing was stopping it from coming out. The vibration on my phone broke my gazing at the door. When everything is quiet in the bathroom again, you must leave.

But wait for my signal. Nothing she was saying made any sense, but she was the only one who could help me. Then a shiver ran down my spine at the thought. How did she know that I had a scratch? And how could she know that something was, in the bathroom. Can I trust her?

I got up from the corner I was in. I needed to get ready to leave. I started thinking about how I could pass through the bathroom, which was right next to the apartment door without being noticed. First, I thought of running, but the pain reminded me that it wasn't possible. I figured I could sneak to the door, but what if it could hear me?

What if it could sense me? None of it mattered. I didn't have options. I was slowly approaching the door. The closer I got, the louder the sounds in the bathroom got as well. Then I was in front of the door. But that meant that I was side by side with the bathroom door. I unlocked it.

The sound stopped. I froze. It heard me, I thought. And then a loud music coming from my pocket echoed in the apartment. I quickly opened the door, stepped out of the apartment, and closed the door with all of my strength. I couldn't hear anything inside. Neither the thing trying to chase after me. I looked at my phone and saw that the building owner was calling me. Leave the apartment now, she immediately screamed.

I'm already out, I said, breathless. You should have waited for my signal, but at least you got out. Did you put the salt? She asked with a slight tremor in her. her voice. Of course not. I'm not crazy. And how do you know about the scratch or about that thing in the bathroom? What are you not telling me? Jesus, come to me. I'll explain it to you. Go to the ground floor. She said slightly let down and tired. Can I trust you? I asked with the firmest voice I could muster. You don't have a choice. Then she hung up. I stayed still for a minute, trying to assimilate all

that happened. Then I headed to the elevator. When I left the elevator, I saw her going up to the garage stairs. The look on her face was frightening. She looked tired, scared, and nauseous. At that moment, I blushed a bit, remembering I was still only in the shower towel. Then I looked at her left hand, a bag of salt. With her right hand, she grabbed some of the salt and threw it at my scratch. At First, I felt a burning sensation. After that, I felt dry, as if I had never drunk water my whole life. And then breathless. I couldn't breathe.

I fell on my knees while frantically trying to breathe. It was an awful feeling, like someone was covering my nose and mouth, but as if they were in the area of the scratch. After a couple of seconds, I could breathe normally. On my chest, I could see the boils starting to shrink. She handed me a bottle of water. I grabbed it and started drinking. We need to leave the building now.

I have some clothes in the car. Come on. She started saying when I got up. You said you would explain, I affirmed. Kind of tired of her being so enigmatic. And I will, but not now. First, we need to get you safe. From what exactly?

What was that thing? I asked. Trying to understand even the smallest thing that was happening. The thing is the consequence of, of not following the rules. She put her hand on her forehead like she had a huge headache. Then continued, Look, the salts will slow them down, but not forever.

So come on. What do you mean? That scratch. You have been marked for slaughter. And now you have their smell. And I assure you, they will soon smell you if we stay here. She shouted while going in the direction of the building door. I stayed in place, marked for slaughter.

I followed her to the car in the parking lot. She handed me the clothes and I changed. Then I entered the car. We are driving to what she called a safe place. We had all been on the road for a bit. I could feel the boils starting to rise again. They can start to follow us. Follow me.

To slaughter me. It had been half an hour since we started driving. The building owner said we were almost there. During the drive, she explained everything that was happening. Everything she knew at least. These creatures have been in the building for at least three generations. She was the third. Her mother had taught her what she needed to do about them.

As far as she knew, they could live for years without eating, but that didn't mean they wouldn't. and they would only eat people. Of course they do. I said sarcastically when she explained that part. They were attracted to the sound of water. She didn't know why they had this kind of behavior. She just knew it was that way.

And they were active at night. More specifically between 10 p.m. and 4 a.m. That's the reason these rules existed. She called me stupid for not. following them and for not trusting her after breaking them. In that moment, I understood how dumb I had been. I asked why the creature didn't eat me when the creature was right in front of me, and how exactly it would eat without having a mouth.

She said she didn't have a full answer for that. First, there are different types of creatures. The one I saw was a scarvin. Scarvins only spy on potential prey when they hear one. water and they mark them. The reason they only do that to people who look at them, she doesn't know. But she knows that not looking works, and they do have mouths, but they're in their chests. I shivered a bit here in that part. The second kind of creature are the echoer. They can take the form of a person, imitate some words, and copy some simple movements,

like knocking on the door. I asked why he wouldn't just enter the room and how he got into the bathroom. She said echoers are not the strongest. In fact, they're weaker than a normal person. They rely on ambushes to catch their prey. That's why he wanted me to answer the door. The way he got in is stranger and seems almost impossible. All the creatures have the ability to crush their bones to fit into small,

spaces. Very small spaces. Echoers take this to the extreme, and they have access to the pipes of the building. She pulled over when she finished explaining that part. We were at a house in the middle of the forest, at least two miles away from the nearest point of civilization. It's a house for these special occasions. You'll be safe there, she said while getting out of the car. We started entering the house. There was a stone wall at least six and a half feet high. Step exactly where I step. There are traps here and you don't want to lose a leg. I was starting to understand what she meant about this house being for this occasion. The whole house was one big trap. The front door had some kind of fire and gasoline trap. As we walked upstairs, I saw some bear traps and something that was

present in every part of the house. Salt bags. We entered a room at the end of the hallway. The space was full of salt bags. The door had that same fire trap on the inside. In one corner the room was a workbench. There were some toy guns on it, which made me a bit confused. She grabbed one of them and started explaining.

So the only thing I didn't mention yet was assault. The creature's skin is like an amphithe. fibians, so it's very sensitive. One of the most effective things is salt. And why did you have to put salt on me? I asked. Kind of worried. When that scarvin scratched you, she started answering, it passed you some kind of venom.

Those boils were the reaction to it, and they worked the same way as their skin. It's through these boils that they can sense and smell you. If the boils are damaged, they can't, for some time at least. Speaking of which, she grabbed one of the guns and pointed it at my chest. I looked at her, confused. These are salt guns. We need to put some salt on your wounds again.

A chill ran down my spine as I remembered what it felt like last time. But I didn't have a choice. I lifted my shirt and she shot. The pain in the breathless sensation came again, but I was able to stay standing this time. Here's what we're going to do. You need to leave the country. You need to have at least an ocean separating you from the creatures. Otherwise, they will find you eventually.

I was caught off guard. Leaving the country felt so rushed. But I had only made bad choices until I got here. Again, I didn't have a choice. Okay, but I need to grab my things and I need money to travel as well, I said, trying to stay calm. Here, take one, she said, handing me one of the guns. So this is the plan. I'm going to take your apartment to grab everything you need.

You'll stay here. It's safe, but you can't leave. Tomorrow morning, I'll take you to the airport. All right. Okay, I said. Still a bit surprised at how the situation had escalated. In about three months, you'll be able to come back. I'll be in touch the whole time.

All right, wait in this room. I'll be back in about an hour. When she finished, she went through the door and left. I grabbed a chair near the workbench and sat down. I heard her car driving away. I held the gun tighter, still a bit afraid. It was the first time I was alone after all this. After half an hour, the boils had grown again.

The initial fear I felt turned into boredom. I was starting to feel trapped in the room, but I was too afraid to disobey the orders. I had already done that once, and it hadn't ended well. I grabbed my phone and started watching some videos. Another 30 minutes passed before my phone rang. She was calling me. Don't leave the house, she screamed. I could hear that she was out of breath. It sounded like she was moving through water, like in some kind of pool. In the background, I could also hear that sound, that high-pitched wheeze, a pack of them. Only leave when the sunrises.

Don't even think about leaving earlier. Don't leave. I heard her voice again, but now it was distant, mixed in with the creature's sounds. Don't open the door, no matter what, I heard the original owner of that voice say again. suddenly a very low guttural yet piercing scream came from the phone then all the other creatures screamed as well and then i heard that same scream but outside the phone this last one came from the woods i will a loud horrifying scream cut her off then the sound of the phone hitting the water the next screams came muffled and then the call just ended.

I heard another scream, and then an alarm. The screams continued for a while. Then I smelled smoke and burned flesh. I gripped my gun tighter. I was surrounded, trapped. I heard a few more screams throughout the house and the sound of traps being triggered. I just sat where I was.

It was 2.47 a.m. I just had to wait until sunrise. I had the salt. I tried to tell myself that everything was okay. At 3.32 a.m. I heard a scream, the loudest so far. It came with some kind of explosion. It caused the lights to go out. Everything is dark now.

It's 4.29 a.m. The scream stopped, but I can hear their steps. They're breathing. I put some salt on my boils, but it doesn't seem to have much effect anymore. My battery is running out. I have to do something before that, or I'll be completely blind in this darkness. I heard knocks on the door downstairs. Leave the house.

It's her voice. I think I shouldn't open it. And all right, guys, that wraps up some terrifying horror stories from Reddit. I really love the stories in today's video. These were so scary, intriguing, and they just had me on the edge of my seat the entire time. And I hope you found them as interesting as I did, and I appreciate you watching to the end of the video.

If you're still watching, please consider leaving a like down below. It helps so much or subscribing to the channel. That also helps so much. Also, please follow my Instagram and follow me on Spotify. That helps so much. And if you enjoyed this video, I'm sure you will enjoy some other videos on the channel.

so go check out some other videos and all right this was enough you happen for me so thank you so much for watching and uh this was snook and i'll see you next time bye