Snook - Unnerving Scary Stories

Episode Date: October 17, 2025

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Hey, what's up guys, and welcome back to another scary stories video. And today we're getting into some more viewers submitted scary stories. And today we're getting into some unnerving scary stories. These stories are great and you guys are great writers. And if you'd like to send in the story of your own, please send to the email on screen now. Thank you very much. And I appreciate you stopping by. It means a lot.

Please like the video and subscribe to the channel. It helps more than you know. And all right, without further ado, let's get into some unnerving, scary stories. At the end of the tunnel. My university has tunnels connecting all of the buildings on campus. I've been told by my friends from other places this is pretty unique, but I think a lot of schools around here have them. Maybe they just want to make sure students don't have an excuse to miss class when

wind chills reaches minus 50 degrees. Maybe they don't want us all to starve in a blizzard if it lasts too long. In any case, these tunnels crisscross under the outdoor sidewalks and green spaces of our college, guiding students, staff, and faculty alike wherever they need to go. Most of us who live in the dorms use them daily in the winter months, even if we might eventually pop outside occasionally for some fresh air. I don't think anyone wants to brave the elements for their 8 a.m. class, but they don't have to, though. The tunnels are not uniform in their construction, and some are absolutely sketchier than others.

Some are made up of aging plaster walls, poorly lit with burnt-out construction-style lamps, inexplicably always damp. Most of these shittiest ones go between dorms and parking garages or cafeterias. Places they knew they could cheapen out as much as possible. Some of the dorms aren't much better above ground either. The place I want to tell you about and its tunnel is one of them. Let's call it Gray Hall so I can maintain some attempt at anonymity. The shittiest dorm must have been hastily and cheaply constructed in the 80s.

It always leaked and had walls so thin you could hear your neighbor as if they were speaking. directly to you. Honestly, I get the sense that this building had been begging to be torn down practically since it was new, and the last 40-some-odd years has not done anything to help that. Blizzards, minor floods, a few rough hailstorms, Gray Hall has seen the worst this state had to offer. It's probably a miracle. They squeezed the years out of it that they did. It took first a student breaking his wrist in the stairwell when they lost their footing on a crack step, and then another one managing to push out a window and fall from the fourth floor before the university finally stopped using the building altogether. As far as I know, the kid that fell is still in the hospital.

There was just too much maintenance needed it all at once, and the university couldn't risk any more lawsuits or bad publicity, so they closed it completely after the fall semester. I think they were also tired of addressing all the complaints about it. Everyone hated living there and would escape giving any chance they had. By that point, there were probably only a dozen students living, in the entire massive thing, and heating it during January probably wasn't worth it either. They closed the only tunnel to Greyhall before they finished moving all the students out and said that it was the most structurally unsound part. I'm sure that's true, but there is more to it, more that I wish I didn't know,

more that I wish I could just forget. If I weren't a senior year, I would have dropped out already and driven as far away as possible. I can't tell the world, I got to graduate, but I can at least tell you. I live in the next storm over, so every day I kept walking past the large barricade they'd place at the entrance to the unusually long tunnel to the condemned hall. It always looked like overkill to me. Why was there a tarp hung floor to ceiling like it was some kind of construction zone? I was certain they were trying to scare us away.

I guess it was pretty successful. Well, for most students. Not me, though. I'll admit maybe there's something wrong with my instincts, but the only thing I felt each day was a growing sense of curiosity that was harder and harder to ignore. On a Saturday night a few weeks ago, I made my first mistake in a series of poor choices.

I tried hard liquor for the first time. Half a red solo cup full of vodka later, and my inhibitions were eroding by the second. I was at a small party with my friends just off campus, and everyone was at least a little bit tipsy. One of my friends had the bright idea to play truth or dare. A lot of the game was spent licking nasty shit, making people embarrass themselves, and of course, there are a few raunchy moments between players, too.

One of my friends, Mike, who happened to live in the same door as me, claimed my dare later in the game. Dude, you've been wondering what the hell is with that abandoned gray tunnel, haven't you? I caught you staring at it last week, and I thought for sure you were chasing the joint. You were looking for weak spots to break in. I shrugged and tried to take a casual sip of my drink, somewhat unsuccessfully. I mean, yeah, of course I do. It's so menacing for like no reason. There's got to be more than just a crumbling hallway, right?

Well, I dare you to prove it, Mike said, slapping his hand on the ground with drunken enthusiasm. I rolled my eyes. I'm not going to die because some loose brick falls on my head. Even drunk, I'm not that stupid. That made a few of the others laugh, but my friend wouldn't be deterred. Okay.

Well, uh, put on like gloves in our biking helmets. Wheel, I pushed? Well, yeah, now I want to know too. And I'll make Jim come along. My friend's groggy roommate looked over at the sound of his name. Wait what? He asked blearily. Mike playfully smacked at Jim.

Come on, idiot. We're going on an adventure for Rachel's dare. Jim groan loudly. But I'm so comfy. Mike started hugging him to his feet. Well, that's just too fucking bad. Get up. It took a bit to find all that we would need to pry our way through the barricade,

given that we're still inebriated. However, a few folks at the party decided to help us out. One even lents Jim a spare helmet when he realized he'd left at his parents' house. We left the party to cheers, our encouragement, but as we stepped into the cool evening air quietly surrounded us for the first time, it left us each in our own silent contemplation as we crossed the street onto campus. What if security catches us? Jim asked softly. I could only shrug. I guess we got to make sure that doesn't happen. I can keep watch, Mike volunteered. I couldn't help but laugh. I don't know, Mike. I think you might need to sober up a bit more

first. Mike crossed his arms over his chest, but couldn't refute that. When we got to the blockade, we debated how to get through without making our intrusion immediately obvious. It took a bit of awkward scrambling and teamwork, but we got through without tearing down the tarp that covered most the entrance. Mike was the first one on the other side. He blindly fished his phone out of his pocket and put on the flashlight. When Jim and I joined him, we each did the same in turn. Scanning the walls and ceiling, it was clear that the tunnel really was pretty badly, in need of repair. There were cracks in missing plaster everywhere. Dramatic holes in the ceiling and several lights were broken. This tunnel had always been a little spooky, but illuminated only

by our phones, it was downright unsettling. This tunnel tilted slightly downwards because Gray Hall's basement was lower than the ones in the buildings around it, and that night it looked like it could be a tunnel straight to hell. It seemed my fear had finally caught up to me. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. It was then that I noticed a horrifying smell. I grimaced and turned my head away for a moment. Mike had already started walking, so he was now a few steps ahead of me. All three of us were now completely silent as we crept carefully forward. In my head, I told myself it was because we didn't want to alert anyone we were down here, but I knew they were just as scared as I was. We were quickly nearing the end of the tunnel,

where I joined up with gray, but there was a slight, turn before that happened. Mike reached it first. He stopped dead in his tracks, gasped and frantically scammed the ground with his phone's light before falling back backwards, shrieking. That wasn't a sound I'd heard to make before. I rushed forward to see what he was looking at. There, below a broken concrete ledge and a shallow divot in the ground was the torso of a rotting human body. My brain could only processed the scene in pieces. In the beam of my phone's flashlight lay at least three bodies. All dismembered. Some horrifyingly contorted. Their skulls tipped in silent screams and blood-stained every last scrap of clothing that was visible. One was an older woman. One was an older

man. But the third was a guy who was young enough to be in one of my own classes. I stumbled backwards like Mike had, but tripped slightly and dropped my phone. It fell screen-side down, causing the light to point upwards and illuminate the entire shallow grave before us. Beside those first few bodies, which were probably at most a few months old, lay fully skeletonized remains. Their clothes look older, like way, way too old, fashioned, and weathered to be from any time in the last few decades. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, I muttered, frantically shaking my head as if trying to clear my addled drunk thoughts like an etch-a-sketched. I heard Jim retching a few steps away from my shoulder.

Mike was now shakily trying to scramble to his feet. We got to get the hell out of here, man. We have to go. We can't be here. Holy shit. He stammered incoherently, still staring at the corpses before us. He finally turned and as he reached me, he shook my shoulder. Now, we have to go now.

He was shouting. I was also struggling to avert my eyes from the crime before us. But I did manage to lean down and clumsily retrieve my phone. As Mike began to sprint away, I forced myself to turn and follow him. I could hear Jim only a step or two behind me. Our exit over the barricade was not as graceful as our entrance, and it was now pretty obvious someone had gone through it. We barely had the sense to care.

We paused for a minute in the better lit intersection of the tunnels. I can't. I can't go back to my room. My room, and I don't know what to say. Where? Where the hell did he go? I met first Mike and then Jim's eyes for the first time since our discovery. They looked at each other and seemed to silently and instantly come to an agreement.

Rachel, come to her dorm. I know someone with a cot we can borrow if you want. Just please stay with us. At least tonight, Mike asked. The weight of his words were heavy with fear and concern. I swallowed and began to not my head, looking at Jim again, who attempted to offer an extremely half-hearted smile. Let's go.

It was all I could say in response. We started to head down to the tunnel that led to our dorm building, but as I passed by a staircase, I stopped dead in my tracks. Actually, you guys, can we walk outside? I know it's cold, but I didn't need to finish that thought. As my friend seemed to be relieved, I thought to offer an alternative to staying down here any longer. The night outside barely seemed dark to us now as we trotted anxiously towards our home for the school year. The sounds of the late winter night were faint but still reassuring.

Luckily, Jim and Mike lived on the first floor, so it didn't take us long to get it. and collapsed. I perched on one of their desk chairs, bringing my knees up against my chest as I hugged my legs. There was a long, heavy silence as both boys sat on the floor nearby. Jim spoke first. We have to tell someone. I nodded mechanically in response. Okay, but like who? Anyone could have done that? Security, a professor, another student. I don't think we can trust anyone. Mike sounded frustrated and it was clear paranoia was starting to set in for him. That question and observation inspired another extended pause full of dread. Those people weren't all killed at the same time.

Jim was quieter as he spoke. Do you think it was a whole group of people that did it? Like a secret blood cult frat or something? Like as a ritual once every few years or something? Mike asked. I couldn't help but snort a brief barking laugh. Mike's head snapped in my direction as his glare shot daggers at me. I put my hands up defensively.

Sorry, dude. I don't mean to, like, shit on that theory. It's just this whole thing is so cosmically fucked up and unbelievable. It feels completely unreal. Like, sure, why not a blood cult fraternity? Anything is possible now, I guess. Mike sighed. I shouldn't have dared you to do that. We could still be shit faced at that party. Just doing stupid shit like looking at toilet seat instead. I still probably would have thrown up Jim Offord. That made Mike and I laugh for a real in a way that genuinely eased the tension a bit for the first time. maybe we should figure it out in the morning we could try to go to sleep or at least rest i proposed half-hardly knowing deep down that any time it actually closed my eyes i would probably only see those pale bloated faces from here on out mike looked unsure but jim agreed with me we decided to turn most of the lights off but kept on a single desk lamp i was sure the boys would tease me for asking to have a little more lights but they seemed just as reassured by the idea it wasn't possible to get the cot that night, so they tossed me a few extra blankets and I may do. I balled up my sweatshirt as a makeshift pillow and just stared up at the ceiling. Luckily, it was already almost 4 a.m. by that point,

so daylight was only a few hours away. I must have managed to doze off at some point because I woke up to Mike swearing again. As memories of last night began to return to me, I felt paralyzed by dread. Rachel, I saw you open your eyes. Come on, you got to check your email. I groan loudly, and with a lot of effort, I managed to force my arms to move. My, me like, I don't know, grab some coffee or something first? I asked, desperately hoping to delay the inevitable. Mike shook his head as he clambered down from his bunk. He shoved his phone in my face, and I blinked a few times before grabbing it. On the screen was an email that appeared to be addressed to all students. It was from our school's president in the subject line read, urgent, safety alert.

The email went on to describe a break-in at Grey Hall. Anyone with any leads could report them to campus security in exchange for more dining dollars. Any staff or faculty perpetrators would be fired, any current student perpetrators would be expelled, and any former student perpetrators could have their degrees revoked. The school was already working with local authorities, and if the school's punishments weren't already enough, anyone caught could face jail time. The message was clear as day to me. We know that you know, and you better keep silent. I threw the phone back to Mike and curled up again. Does mean they already know about the bodies? Mike asked.

Still in disbelief? I just shrugged. I don't know, Mike. Maybe they knew about them all along. He furrowed his brow. What do you mean, Rachel? I mean, you know the rumors as well as I do. They only close Gray Hall to avoid more bad press.

I don't know that they actually care of that Daisy or Ashwok got hurt. So what did he do now, then? I shrugged again. Pray we can still graduate? What if they kill someone else? Someone we know. What if they kill one of us? I looked him in the eyes and replied,

in a cold, deadpan voice. Well, then I guess I hope whoever finds me under the concrete is less of a coward than I am. And I forgot to preface this story by saying that the person who emailed me the story actually first posted this on Reddit. And so that's why this next post is referred to as a post because she just copy and pasted her story into the email and then send it to me. And so that's why she talks about post.

I'm sorry I forgot to add that at the front, but that's why she goes on to explain an update and that sort of stuff. But anyways, let's get on to the update one. Someone asked for an update on my first post, which you should probably read before this one. I wish I had a better update than this. I really, really do. But I'm really scared something bad happened to Mike and I

don't know where else to turn. Maybe someone here will know what I should do. About a week ago, Mike asked Jim and I to meet him off campus. He said he wanted to show us a local coffee place with the best signature drink. I knew better than that. Mike would post on Instagram or invite our entire friend group along

if he was actually excited about some local gem he discovered. Mike was one of the most outgoing people I've ever met. If just Jim and I were invited, something was wrong. In the pit forming to my stomach had a few guesses about what that was something was. As I walked to the cafe with my head down, hand shoved moodily in my pockets, I let off a little steam under my breath.

Of course he couldn't fucking drop it. I should have known this would happen. And now he's going to drag us all the way down with him because he's got to be some kind of hero. I'm out of myself. I wasn't actually that mad at him. I think I was just mostly upset by the shame he made me feel. Thinking back to this moment now, I just feel even more guilt. When I got to the cafe, I saw Mike and Jim had already arrived

and were sitting off to the side in a more secluded section of tables. I ordered the signature drink because a rose and cardanom latte did genuinely sound pretty good, and I walked over to them. Mike practically jumped out of his seat when I greeted him. That all, but confirmed my suspicions about what we were actually doing here. I didn't want to think about this again, but it seemed important to be my friend, so I decided to literally grit my teeth and bear it. I was a coward, sure, and probably a bit selfish otherwise, but I was not a bad friend.

Mike and Jim had been there for me on the worst night of our collective lives, and that bond felt inescapable at this point. So I sat down across from them reluctantly. As I did so, Mike began to run. write something on his napkin. He then slid it over to Jim and I. Phones off, please. I looked over at Mike with an eyebrow raised and he responded by nodding grimly as if to confirm this was indeed absolutely necessary. We did as we were told while Mike surveyed the room again with his anxious gaze. Rose and Cardinalam Lottee for Rachel, the barista called out, and I felt

my heart skip a beat. Be right back, I muttered. I tried to look and act normal as I approached the counter again, but I knew I wasn't doing a very good job at it. The workers seemed completely unperturbed, though, and the breests that serving me with my drink just flashed me a classic customer service smile. Once I was back at her table, Mike leaned as far forward as he could before whispering to us, y'all, this goes so much deeper than I thought. This has something to do with the Schmitz and their donations. The Schmitz, I asked, recognizing the name because it was plaster all over our campus,

our student center, an athletics building, even a parking garage, were all named after that wealthy family of graduates. I didn't know much about them beyond that, though. Mike nodded. They have some sort of deal with the college. I couldn't find anything in the official records, but I traced the origin of the rumor. It seems to come from people who actually knew the most recent Schmidt to attend the college. He let a few things slip from time to time about just how powerful his family was.

I swallowed it hard. That was absolutely not reassuring in the slightest. Mike, are you saying, did a Schmidt? Jim struggled with how to phrase his question, in a public setting. Mike shrugged in and said, I don't know, it's possible it was one of them, but it's also possible they were covering for someone else. I also learned that the family pulls strings to have their friends hired all the time. These people become untouchable. I have some guesses as to which professors and staff these friends of Schmidt are like,

but like, these schmits aren't the only ones doing this right. So why do you think it was the Schmitz specifically then, I challenged? It's one thing to be able to get a guy who's horrible at teaching to nerd. It's entirely another to keep around someone or multiple someone who are actively killing people and hiding them on campus. Like I just think that'd take a much bigger bribe, right? Also, it has to have been someone who's been around for a long time because of what we saw, the Schmitz go back three generations. There's no way for me to confirm it, but from where I'm standing, everything points to them being involved. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I wasn't certain I actually wanted to hear the answer to my next question.

Okay, so what are you planning to do now that you have this hunch? I have a big spreadsheet of to nerd professors. I'm not an expert, but my guess is whoever did it had to have been here for 20 or 30 years. I'm going to dig up what info I can on anyone who fits the bill. Mike, are you doing this all on campus Wi-Fi? Jim asked with a concern. Don't worry. I'm being really careful. I got a VPN. I do some of the snooping here on the cafe's Wi-Fi. I'm taking me. I'm taking precautions to cover my steps. Jim and I looked at each other for a moment, and it was clear he was unconvinced as I was. Mike, I am literally begging you, please, this isn't worth risking your life over, I hissed, sounding more annoyed than I had intended to. Mike sat back in his chair and crossed

his arms over his chest before rolling his eyes. I knew you'd be like this, he muttered. I scoffed. Like what? Like caring about your friend's safety? Raising my voice more than I meant to? That's Bullshitting you know it. Letting this go unsolved puts everyone on or near this campus in more danger. That includes a lot of your friends too, Mike responded, matching my volume. Guys, Jim whispered harshly. Mike and I looked a bit sheepish when we realized how loud we got in. Someone is absolutely staring at us now.

Jim added, point inly looking in the opposite direction. My eyes widened as Mike glanced over first. Then it was my turn to peak. Sure enough, a middle-aged man, a few feet away from us, glaring at us with intensity. I recognized him as a professor of English. Do you think he's just annoyed we're interrupting the piece? I asked, hopefully. Mike frowned didn't answer me directly. That's Professor Green. He's definitely on my list. I grimaced. I was afraid you'd say that. Mike looked at me first and then at Jim. I don't know if I'm safe. I don't know what happens next, but I have to do this,

okay? I feel like I owe it to everyone here. This community let me be myself for the first time. I'm not going to let some jerks with money make everything feel unsafe again. Mike was originally from a small town in Kansas. He's known all his life he was gay, but had to be able to come out until he got here. Our GSA student group was where we met him, Jim and most of our friends. So we both knew just how sincere our friend was being in that moment. I also knew there was no way I was going to be able to talk him out of it. So I relented.

Just please. Please be careful, Mike. I need you to be out there at the Lavender graduation. It wouldn't be the same without you, I murmured softly. I love you guys and I appreciate that you care about me. I'll keep my head down, I promise. He reached out across the table to touch each of our hands and reassurance. It made me want to burst into tears right then there. I texted Mike as often as I could after that.

We never talked about the situation, but he mentioned studying a lot, which I assumed was his way of alluding to it. A few days ago, he came to Jim and I with a request. Did you know there was walled off tunnels only accessible to maintenance workers? We were once again at the cafe, seated in the tucked away, corner. This new information made me choke on my beverage momentarily. Mike, are you going to try to access these tunnels? Jim asked quietly. Mike nodded, and I can do it alone, but I'd appreciate at least a lookout. I glared at him for a moment. He knew he was asking for an impossible favor, but what the hell else were we supposed to do? It's not like we could let him go alone. Jim spoke first.

I'll do it, but I'm not going in. I'll keep watch outside. Okay, but like, what if someone's already inside. Mike's fucked if he's alone, I muttered. So does that mean you'll come into the tunnel with me? Mike pushed. I groaned with the irritation. I want it to be known I think this is the worst idea I've ever heard, but I will go into the tunnel if it means Mike has more of a sporting chance to survive. Mike had gone to the lengths of printing out campus maps to help obscure his plan. He circled a little janitor's closet off to the passageway that led to the seldom used McBride parking garage. We made at this closet at 2 a.m. Bring a helmet and protection. No phones just in case. Protection? Did he mean a weapon? Like a gun or something? Was that even legal? I had a Swiss army knife, but I doubted that

I would be able to do much, if anything, if we were actually in trouble. Mike interrupted my train of thought by adding, I'm excited to try picking out locks. I've been teaching myself since we were last down there. I put my hand over my face inside. Of course you have. I spent the rest of the evening debating if I should just stand Mike up and not go. I could fake being sick, tell him my stomach hurts too much. That wouldn't be a complete lie. I'd barely eaten in the last few days because being this anxious all the time was making me feel pretty miserable.

I'd become so paranoid, it was also hard to sleep. I wondered if Mike and Jim were feeling this awful too. Maybe that's why Mike was being such an idiot. I decided I had to go through with it. I couldn't abandon them. When I arrived at the closet, I was relieved to see that Mike had found a baseball bat to bring. I still didn't know exactly what or who we need to present. from, but a bat would probably do a better job than anything I had managed to find.

Jim took his place against the wall and kept to watch for any signs of trouble as Mike fiddled with the locked door. He asked me to try the knob a few times to test each attempt. It took almost 15 minutes for him to be successful, and by then he was practically drenched in sweat. The agonizing weight hadn't been all that helpful for my anxiety either. When we got inside the closet, we began to look for the way into the tunnel. I was in charge of holding in an old-fashioned flashlight this time. Mike scanned the back. back wall of the closet until he found a discolored panel. He pushed on it and found it easily gave way. The panel fell into the deep, inky blackness of what I could only assume was another tunnel.

Mike motioned for me to hand him the flashlight for a second. He crawled through the opening first. I glanced back the door to the McBride, tunnel one last time before following him. It quickly became clear this wasn't a normal disused passage. The walls were more shoddily constructed out of unpainted cinder blocks and the ceiling had to be only about five feet tall. This was never meant to be a main thoroughway for students. This was constructed by someone else, for another reason. I thought back to what Mike had said about only Schmitz having this much sway at the university. Mike and I crept along, stooped over to avoid hitting our heads. The floor beneath us was only packed earth, and it was extremely uneven. We soon saw looming shapes in the darkness.

They look like normal discarded boxes and crumpled sheets of cloth at first. But as we drew closer, we started to see clearly that each object was stained with splashes of deep maroon. When I noticed this, I stopped and I peered nervously over at Mike. He didn't meet my gaze. Instead, he just kept moving forward. My shoulders slumped into feet as I soon again followed him. When I saw Mike stumbled across a machete, I mean, he literally kicked it. Mike looked out into the weapons, trying to make out a shape in the shadows while he waited for me to bring the flashlight closer. When I caught up to him, the large knife became clear.

as did the rusty coding of what looked like dried blood. Mike took a large step back. His eyes were wide and I could hear his breathing quicken. I remembered him shouting at us last time to get out of there and was certain he was shouting the same thing internally at that moment. Mike bawled his fist up and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before whispering. I can't run away again. Someone has to get to the bottom of this. I wanted to argue with him to tell him to listen to part of his brain that said it wasn't worth it. I knew, though, that to Mike, that'd be a lie. Anything was worth it if it meant protecting the people around him.

Anything was worth it to make his home safe again. We got to the edge of the blood soaked debris and stopped again. I shone the flashlight around and noticed the pile extended ways back. Once again, I felt like I was only processing the scene around me in pieces. The larger pieces of hidden evidence were interspersed with glinty metal weapons, everything from scalples to pruning saws. I was beginning to notice that firearms were missing from the picture. It took a bit of processing to understand why, but now I think it indicates that the murderers

were intentionally gruesome in their violence. A gun may have resulted in just too clean and quick of a death. What felt like the sharpest kick in the stomach for me, though, was a dorm mattress, ripped to shreds. It looked just like the one I slept on every night. I could more vividly imagine the terror of the victim must have felt as an attacker pinned them to it and drove a knife in over and over again. Once again, the image of the dead kid, my own age, intruded on my thoughts.

Was this how he died? There was no way in hell all this was just from the bodies we'd already seen. There had to be remnants from dozens of crimes present here. Mike's hand was over his mouth as he tried to process the additional information before him. He shifted so his fingers were interlaced behind his head. There's no way this was all done by one person. With dawning horror, I was beginning to realize just how right Mike had been. no one was safe on or around campus, not at this scale of methodical and deliberate carnage.

What the hell do we do? I asked earnestly, looking at Mike. Tears stung in my eyes. I refuse to let them fall, though. Not now, not here. Mike took a deep breath before meeting my gaze. I'll figure it out, Rachel, I promise. We'll get to the bottom of this somehow. Mike sounded like he was still trying to convince himself that was really possible. I had to swallow hard to choke down a sob. We debrief Jim in the janitor's closet. He was glad he had chosen not to go inside. The three of us worked to replace the panel on the wall and obscure our entry.

That night I stayed in Mike and Jim's dorm room again. It felt like tradition at this point. I guess sleepovers are mandatory after seeing that much world-shattering horror. I woke up the next morning to Jim shouting at an R.A. I wasn't sure I'd ever heard him this angry before my life. What do you mean he's already in custody? He was literally just here. I prop myself up so I could see what.

what was going on. A few of the res life folks that worked on our building were going through and packing Mike's belongings into boxes. His bed was already stripped with just a bare mattress remaining. I shuddered at the image of the identical bloodstained one that flashed in my mind. What's going on? I asked blearily. Jim's attention shifted to me and he softened a bit. Rachel, they came in while we were all asleep. They told me that Mike's been expelled and arrested for breaking and entering. They're planning to male's belongings back to his parents. I swiftly sat up fully on my cot. What? They, they can't just do that. Jim shrugged defeatedly as the RAs appeared to be pointedly ignoring me. I tried to say the same thing, but this order is

apparently something even the president's weighed in on. My mind raced as I tried to figure out who had ridded Mike out. Was it Dr. Green, someone else at the cafe? Was someone tracking Mike's online actions? Where had we been too sloppy? I looked at Jim and another train of thought hit me. Why was only Mike fingered? Why were Jim? and I still standing here. I felt my blood run cold as I wondered if they took Mike as a warning to us. Keep going and you're next. Taking us all meant more loose strings maybe?

More cops to pay off, judges to bribe? Well, if he really was actually in jail. I realized I couldn't be sure of that either, given everything that I knew now. Fuck. Was Mike dead? Still in my pajamas, I stood up abruptly. I marched over to Jim and grabbed his hand, glaring at the RAs and other university minions I growled.

Let's get out of here. Jim opened his mouth to protest, but when my glare snapped over to him, he shut it. He sighed dejectedly and muttered. Okay, just let me grab my coat. At my insistence, Jim and I caught a bus and rode down to another copy shop I was familiar with. I was hoping that getting some distance would mean we could lose any trail that was tracking us. While on the bus, Jim got a call from Mike's mom. She was worried because she had heard Mike was arrested, but couldn't get any other information. Jim repeated what the RAs had said and found out that no one had actually been able to reach Mike at the station. Mike's mom had also called a lawyer they knew, but even he was hitting more hurdles than they'd expected.

When Jim hung up, we spent the rest of the bus ride just staring straight ahead, completely checked out and in each loss in our own thoughts. It was only after we got into the coffee shop and ordered that, I let myself cry. I buried my head of my arms and just sobbed. I felt an occasional reassuring squeeze of my arm from Jim, who looked like he was still struggling not to disassociate. I couldn't stay on campus after that.

So Jim and I found some ratty old motel to rent a cramped room in. That's where I'm writing this now. I need to save Mike. And he's right. I need to protect the others too. But I am so fucking scared. It feels paralyzing. Have we already run out of time?

And that's where that story leaves off. So, you know, I wonder what happened to Mike. I wonder what happened to them. you know, a crazy cliffhanger, but hopefully everyone's all right, and I enjoyed that story. It was crazy, and yeah, everyone watching, please comment down below what you thought about that story. And on to the next story. Hi, Snook, I've been listening to you for months, and this series is one of my absolute favorites. I've told this story to friends before, but they usually just laugh it off, thinking I made it up for a campfire scare.

But it really happened about 15 years ago when I was still in university. At the time, I stayed in a dorm and only came home on weekends to get my laundry done. Our house had a garden, and from there you could see it into the living room through a window. One evening, I was walking through as usual when I glanced towards the window. The lamps were on, and in the warm glow I saw the silhouette of my little brother. He was about eight years old back then. I waved at him. I even called his name.

But he didn't move. Not a single reaction. He just stood there. It unsettled me, but I brushed it off and went inside. That's when I realized. Only my mother was home. I asked where my brother was, and she told me my father had taken him to get groceries. I explained what I had seen, and she laughed, thinking I was just trying to spook her.

I told myself, maybe I was tired. Maybe my eyes were playing tricks, but deep down, I knew what I saw. A few weeks later, while I was back at the dorm, I got a call for my brothers. They sounded uneasy. They asked where I was, and I told them I was still at the dorm, finishing up with my mom. finishing up classes. There was a pause before they spoke again. They said they had just seen me in the garden. They swore I had walked right past them and into the house. They even called out my name, but I didn't answer. I just ignored them and went inside. Then their voices changed. They admitted

they were worried something might have happened to me because only after calling did they realize I wasn't even home. That was when it clicked. What I saw in the window and what they saw in the garden it wasn't us. I've always thought of it as a doppel ganger. We moved out of that house a few years later, nothing like it ever happened again. But to this day, I can still picture it perfectly, my little brother's silhouette in that glowing window,

still and silent. And my brother's swearing, they watched me walk into the house, I was never in. Thanks, Nook, for what you're doing. You keep me company on my long drives. And no worries, man. I'm glad I can keep you entertained during your long drives.

and that's, I don't know, just terrifying to me. You know, it happened to not only you, but to your friends. Seeing you as a doppelganger, seeing your little brother as a doppelganger. That's so eerie and weird. I wonder if it's ghosts. I wonder if it's just some sort of, you know, weird hallucination that you both had. I don't know. But that's super creepy.

I don't know why, but it just gave me goosebumps. Thank you so much for sharing. On to the next one. Hey, Snook. I've been watching your videos for a while. while, listening in the background at work or when playing games, big fan of your work, keep it up. I'll preface this story by saying that I am 25 years old and I haven't been much of a believer in anything supernatural for a long time. I was raised Christian and I still kind of believe in God,

but don't really follow Christianity in any way. Apologies in advance. This is going to be a long one. The events that I am about to describe are my experiences with lucid dreaming and sleep paralysis and what seemed like an encounter with a higher power, which I couldn't really dismiss as a possibility despite my lack of belief, as I try to keep an open mind. As you may know, lucid dreaming and sleep paralysis are very similar in nature. They both occur when your body is asleep, but your mind isn't. Therefore, if you lucid dream often, you will have sleep paralysis often as well.

I've always been prone to lucid dreams, having had many of them in the past, often just going lucid mid-dream, or even fully slipping into lucid dreams, as I was trying to sleep. All this information is relevant to the experiences I had, and with that out of the way, I'll describe what I've experienced. There are three dreams slash experiences that I have to share, two of which happened in two consecutive days, back when I was 17, and the third only two years ago, when I was 23.

I entered the first dream fully aware of the fact that I was dreaming. I found myself in a world completely devoid of color, everything being black and white. I was standing in an unfamiliar park in what seemed to be late autumn, judging by the amount of leaves on the ground. I wandered around, seeing if I could recognize the place. When I saw a little girl some small distance away from me, she looked about five with a white dress that went down below her knees. Her hair, a light color I couldn't see. She was staring right at me.

I looked at her, a strange, chill running through me. I didn't know why, until I noticed her eyes. They were entirely black. not just black but a bottomless darkness that seemed to swallow light around them. I grew uneasy when she suddenly raised her left arm up, reaching towards me, gesturing for me to take her hand. In a soft, childlike voice, she said, come with me. I didn't know what to do. Her arms still raised, I looked at her for what seemed like an eternity. She kept saying, come with me, come with me, come with me. But I stood frozen in place. I was woken up by my brother,

who had come in to check on me, after he heard. heard my unnaturally loud breathing from his room. I went back to sleep after that, and I didn't have any dreams with the rest of the night. The following afternoon, exhausted from school, I decided to take a short nap. Having laid down and closed my eyes, I drifted off almost instantly. When I opened them, I was standing in that same park, the black and white world. The same leaves scattered across the ground. I was aware that I was dreaming, but this time I felt uneasy from the start. Part of me wanted to wake up immediately, yet I needed to know more. What did the little girl want? Where was she going to take me? I walked around aimlessly until I

arrived at the top of a flight of stairs descending to a lower section of the park. There I felt a sudden compulsion to look up. An angel was descending down towards me, holding a silver spear in his left hand. His black wings gently lowered him down. He had dark hair in a lean, muscular build, his bare chest. I couldn't see his face very well. I stared in awe, until he raised his right hand, palm opened towards me. Come with me, he said, just once. He stopped mid-air, several meters away from me. I stood frozen in place, unable to decide on what to do. That's when I heard it. The sound of loud, strained breaths, echoing around me. They were my own. I was struggling to breathe. I bolted awake, terrified. I was only asleep for a few minutes, as I found out, but I didn't dare try again.

The third dream is not connected to the verse two, but it was equally as terrifying. This is where sleep paralysis comes into play. I was 23 at the time, and I had recently become more interested in lucid dreaming. As a writer, the idea of being able to conjure up worlds and characters inside my own mind seemed like an incredible tool. I had made a few attempts already, but most dreams would only last a few seconds. Going lucid makes dreams fall apart, as your brain wants your mind to rest as well as your body. I decided that day to take a nap and intended on attempting another lucid dream. Lucid dreams need to be intentional if they are to be frequent. Otherwise, you would only go lucid if you happen to realize they're dreaming mid-dream. I lay down, closed my eyes, and drifted off.

I found myself standing in a black void, shrouded in darkness. Realizing I was in a dream, I attempted to create something, but nothing happened. I had no control. Realizing this, I looked around. It was then that I saw an old man in a full black suit standing behind me. He hadn't been there moments before. His face covered in a dark mist. His features were indesinguishable. In a calm, deep voice, he spoke, You're not ready.

He raised his arm, snapping his fingers, and I woke up. The experience was unnerving, but I assumed I was simply was not lucid, having no control over my dream. I decided to try again. This time, as I felt my body falling asleep, it felt different. I was still awake.

I tried to move, but I couldn't. I was lying on my stomach, completely paralyzed. I recognized it immediately as sleep paralysis and tried to remain calm, knowing it was common for lucid dreamers. Then I heard it. Thump. Thump.

Thump. I wanted to look at the source of the sound, but my eyes were still shut and wouldn't open. A sudden weight landed on my back, followed by a deep, chilling growl. It moved from one's out of my head to the other, shifting its weight as if balancing itself on top of me. I was convinced it was a hound.

It stayed there. growling at each ear in turn. My heart pounded. The man had warned me I wasn't ready, but I didn't listen. And now this, it couldn't be a coincidence. Minutes passed before the hound finally leapt off my back and left, thumping of its paws slowly dying down. Eventually, I could move again.

I got out of my bed and sat down at my desk, trying to process what had just happened. I didn't attempt another lucid dreaming for months after. As I said, I'm not a believer in the supernatural. higher beings, or anything of the sort. I do believe in God, but I don't think he interferes in our lives. A lot of religious people would be compelled to think that these dreams were some sort of sign. A black-eyed girl wanting me to go with her, followed by an angel telling me to go with him instead.

A dark old man warning me of my ineptness? A visit from a hellhound after not heeding his warnings? I am of the belief that dreams are nothing more than a window into our subconscious. But I can't think of any way these dreams could be tied to my feelings, and thoughts at the time. I'm curious about your opinion on this, as well as any theories from your viewers. If these stories are included in one of your videos, what do you think this means? Do you believe there's a higher purpose to these dreams? Am I meddling in something I shouldn't be meddling in? Or do you think these are nothing but bizarre dreams that happen to create

an overarching theme, a reflection of my subconscious? I try to keep an open mind, so I'm curious about any and all theories regarding these dreams, so please share your thoughts if you have any. Thank you so much for sharing. I appreciate it. And thanks for asking for my opinion and everyone else's. But I'm trying to think. I was trying to think of kind of an answer for you the entire time I'm reading this. But the brain is just so interesting. And I think it's crazy how with all the technology we have, all the medicine knowledge we have in 2025, we still don't know a lot about the brain. The brain is its own animal almost. And I think dreams are one of those. things that really no one has a great idea what they mean, where they come from, why our brain does it. People have theories and I'm sure people are going to, you know, comment those theories down below,

but I really don't think we have a concrete idea what they mean or why we have them. And I do think having, you know, those two consecutive dreams or kind of four consecutive dreams that are similar themes is super, super weird. I personally wouldn't go straight to, you know, a higher purpose or, you know, God talking to you. Not because that's silly, but, you know, I don't know. Dreams like this can happen a lot, I think. I don't think you're meddling in something you shouldn't be meddling in. I think these are dreams, and it's worth exploring.

Like, why are you having these dreams? Are you probably thinking about a higher purpose? purpose a lot of the time. Are you thinking about, you know, life after death or anything like that? Because, you know, your dreams really do represent your subconscious, I think. And so if you're often thinking about, you know, the higher power, God, religion, maybe that's kind of a background noise of your brain. And it's trying to figure that out in these dreams. And so that's one theory I might have for you. And I think that's probably the best theory I'll have for you today. but hopefully that makes sense you know maybe your subconscious is just kind of trying to

understand and decipher whether or not a higher power is there or god is there so yeah that's kind of my theory on it hopefully you got some you know good insight from this theory i appreciate you sharing your story and i appreciate everyone watching so please everyone watching comment down below your theories for them and that wraps up today's video that wraps up some unnerving scary stories. Would you like to see more videos like this in the future? Subscriber submitted. And if you're watching this and would like to send in your scary story, please send to the email in the beginning of the video or in the description. I appreciate it. And check out some other videos on this channel if you haven't already and subscribe and like the video. Helps more than you know. And this was

Snook. And I'll see you next time. Bye.