Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Visions, Nightmares, and the Pale Thing Tales of Darkness That Feel Too Real PART4 #64

Episode Date: September 25, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #nightmaretales #paleentity #darkvisions #supernaturalfear #creepynightmares  "Visions, Nightmares, and the Pale Thing: Tales of Darkness That Feel Too Real – PART 4" continues this eerie series with more unsettling true stories of haunting visions and nightmares. Witnesses share their encounters with a pale, ghostly figure that invades dreams and waking moments, blurring the lines between reality and fear. These chilling accounts explore the darkness that lurks within the mind and the lasting terror it can cause.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, nightmareencounters, paleentityencounters, supernaturalvisions, darknightmares, hauntingtales, eerievisions, paranormalfear, unsettlingdreams, shadowyfigures, terrifyingrealities, mysteriousentities, chillingaccounts, dreamhorrors, darknesswithin

There's so much rugby on Sports Extra from Sky. They've asked me to read the whole lad at the same speed I usually use for the legal bit at the end. Here goes. This winter sports extra is jam-packed with rugby. For the first time we've got every Champions Cup match exclusively live, plus action from the URC, the Challenge Cup, and much more. Thus the URC and all the best European rugby all in the same place.

Get more exclusively live tournaments than ever before on Sports Extra. Jampack with rugby. Phew, that is a lot of rugby. Get Sports Extra on Sky for 15 euro a month for 12 months. Search Sports Extra. New Sports Extra customers only. Standard Pressing applies after 12 months for the terms apply. My daughter, Ellie, had this ankle pain.

We went to see VHI orthopedics. They actually picked up on her fatigue issues. So they brought in a rheumatologists, and just a few small tests, they realized that Ellie was sediac. So what was brilliant was that VHI had a pediatric dietitian ready to help manage her diet. Really felt seamless.

VHI, because your health means everything. James knew better than to turn around. If he turned, he was certain he'd see it, hanging there, face inches from his. Breathing shallow, frozen in place, he waited. Maybe it would vanish on its own, like a bad dream when you wake up. But reality doesn't play nice. His only escape was the hallway behind him, and whatever it was stood directly in the way. So, with a muttered prayer and a lump in his throat, he spun around on his heel, heart pounding. Nothing. No one. No face. No monster. Just the empty ceiling above, still and untouched. He checked again and again. Still nothing. It should have calmed him. It didn't. He knew something had been there. Just because it wasn't on the

ceiling didn't mean it was gone. If that wasn't a its trick, it only meant it had others. Smarter ones. Meaner ones. James swallowed hard and backed into Daniel's room. He hadn't slept in what felt like years. But he checked on Daniel constantly. That night, instead of walking in, he pressed his ear to the door.

Cheap wood. Thin enough to hear through. He held his breath. Was that, talking? No, not talking. Daniel His son Speaking

James jerked back, heart in his throat, then pushed through the door like he meant to break it. Daniel was sitting up, perfectly still, eyes wide, mouth shut. No sign he'd spoken. Not a word now. James flicked on the light and froze halfway into the room. He wanted to believe his son had just spoken. After all these silent months, But who was he speaking to?

The house was quiet. Too quiet. James took a deep breath and made a decision. Closet. He lunged at it, flinging the doors open with a crash. Nothing. Clothes, old toys, shoes. No one hiding.

He yanked everything out. Toy box. Emptied. Walls. Checked. Even the seal. Still no sign. Daniel watched him the whole time. Silent. Calm. James, panting, sweaty, sat on the edge of the bed. His hands trembled. He hadn't slept. Not properly. Maybe not even for a week. He was unraveling.

Losing grip. Tomorrow. Yes. Tomorrow, they'd both sleep in. Then they'd get out of this godforsaken house. Drive somewhere, anywhere. Park. Breathe. Live like people again, not ghosts. James reached out and ran his fingers through Daniel's hair, trying to center himself. But his breath caught.

Daniel's ear. No. Wait. Ears. Gone. Not cut off. Not scarred. Not injured.

Just, not there. Smooth skin wear ears should be. As if they'd never existed. As if someone had erased them from his skull-like pencil marks on paper. Daniel didn't react. Didn't cry. Didn't ask what was wrong. He didn't seem to notice at all.

James snatched Daniel into his arms and ran. No destination. Just movement. Just out. Until he froze. There was someone, no, something, sitting in the hallway. Naked. Back turned.

Thin limbs, too long, like rubber stretched to breaking. It rocked on its haunches like a child in timeout. James backed away slowly, clutching Daniel to his chest. Then he heard it. Daddy, Daniel's voice. He looked down. Daniel's lips didn't move. Daddy. Again. James's mouth went dry. The things head jerked violently, like a puppet with tangled

strings. Hello, Daddy. James almost dropped Daniel. Don't call me that, he said, voice horse. Go away. Leave us alone, but I am your family. It's voice warped, blurry, choppy, as if tuned into a dying radio station. James's gut twisted. Who are you? I'm a I came to visit. Why? You invited me. I did no such thing. I brought you what you wanted. You have nothing I want. Who is Daniel's mother? James blinked. What? How old is Daniel? What kind of... You didn't deserve what happened. And it doesn't have to define you. You don't have to carry it alone. I know a safe place where you can tell your story. And you'll be believed. Call the Dublin Rape Crisis Centre National Helpline on 1-800-77-888-8. Whenever you're ready to talk, they'll be ready to listen. Kind of question is that.

When is his birthday? I. What's his middle name? Shut up. What was his first word? I said shut up. James's hands clenched. He wanted to tear the thing apart.

But Daniel. Daniel kept him grounded. You were alone, the voice said. You wanted a son. So I made one for you. James shook his head. No. That's not, that doesn't make sense.

Made from me. From my parts. But now, I need them back. James turned to Daniel. Something was wrong. Danny, open your eyes. Daniel shook his head, refusing. Please, baby.

Open your eyes. eyes. Slowly, Daniel obeyed. James screamed. Empty sockets. No eyes. Just void. Daniel opened his mouth to speak, no sound. He is coming back, the voice whispered. Back to be a part of me again. No. No. No. Give him back. I cannot. It's been too long. I warned you. You're lying. You're lying. Give him back. I don't lie. You only remember what I allow. You forget all the times we spoke. Daniel sagged in James's arms. Hair falling out, disappearing midair. Fingers fading into sleeves. Feet crumpling into nothing. James held what looked like a bundle of laundry. Then, nothing. Clothes fell empty onto the floor. Gone. James said,

stood alone. He looked around. No toys. No photos. No shoes. No door to Daniel's room. Just wall. He ran to it, slamming his hands, screaming. No cracks. No seams. Just blank drywall. Why? He yelled. Why are you doing this? It's what you wanted. And I learned so much, people will ask. People will notice. Cops, neighbors, they already forgot. Like you. They only remember what I let them. James collapsed.

Will I at least remember him? You can try. But you won't. Now that he's part of me again, James stared at the wall. A cold, wet hand rested on his shoulder. He didn't look. If I won't remember, James whispered, then why tell me, because a father should know, and then James was alone. A year later, Abigail met James. He told her he'd

never been married. No kids. But when he said that, she saw something flicker across his face. A kind of grief she recognized. A hollow ache. Parents who lose children were that look forever. She didn't press him. James had strange habits. Sometimes, he'd stare at the wall, lost in thought. Sometimes, he'd wake up screaming, sleepwalking, talking nonsense. It scared her. But she loved him. She had no kids either. Couldn't have them. She worried James wouldn't stay. But he always assured her, he didn't care. He loved her. Sometimes, late at night, Abigail heard things, scraping in the corners, skittering under the floorboards, sometimes, shapes in the dark. She would have done anything, anything, to have a child, even a daughter,

even if it meant, well, she didn't know why she was afraid, just that she was. And somewhere in the shadows, something whispered, say your prayers little one, don't forget, my son, to include everyone. I tuck you in, warm within. A lullaby warped by something old and cold and crawling. Exit light, enter night, take my hand, we're off to never, never land. The end.