The NoSleep Podcast - NoSleep Podcast 10th Anniversary Bonus

Episode Date: June 13, 2021

The NoSleep Podcast celebrates its 10th Anniversary with this special bonus episode “A Party for Marty” written by S.H. Cooper (Story starts around 00:05:15) TRIGGER WARNING!Produced by: Phil MichalskiCast: Nathalia – Wafiyyah White, Marty – Peter Lewis, Daniel – Dan Zappula, Harmony – Sarah Olivia, Andre – Atticus Jackson“Tempus Edax Rerum” written by Olivia White (Story starts around 00:26:50)Produced by: Phil MichalskiCast: Haldon Wintermahr – Graham Rowat, Leonard Wintermahr – Jeff Clement, Ora Ananke – Sarah Thomas, Genevieve Wintermahr – Erin Lillis, Eugene Knightstone – David Ault, Dead Former Maid – Alexandra Cruz, Virgil Wintermahr – Jeff Clement, Muriel Wintermahr – Erika Sanderson, Anya Wintermahr – Jessica McEvoy, Homeless Man – David Cummings“Fulton High School’s Commencement Ceremony” written by A.C. McAnelly (Story starts around 00:56:56)Produced by: Phil MichalskiCast: Nick – Kyle Akers, Morgan – Nichole Goodnight, Mayor Tomlinson – Graham Rowat, Mom – Nikolle Doolin, James – James Cleveland, Todd – Elie Hirshman, Brother – Atticus Jackson, GowRow – Atticus Jackson Click here to learn more about The NoSleep Podcast teamClick here to learn more about S.H. CooperClick here to learn more about Olivia WhiteClick here to learn more about A.C. McAnelly Executive Producer & Host: David CummingsMusical score composed by: Brandon Boone10th Anniversary illustration courtesy of Jen TracyAudio program ©2021 – Creative Reason Media Inc. – All Rights Reserved – No reproduction or use of this content is permitted without the express written consent of Creative Reason Media Inc. The copyrights for each story are held by the respective authors. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

For the dark hours when you dare not close your eyes. Through the murky darkness of the night, when fear banishes sleep. Brace yourself for the No Sleep Podcast. The No Sleep Podcast. Brace yourself for the No Sleep Podcast. Wish yourself for the No Sleep Podcast. Brace yourself for the No Sleep Podcast. Brace yourself for the No Sleep Podcast.

Brace yourself for the No Sleep Podcast. Brace yourself for the No Sleep Podcast. Place yourself for the No Sleep Podcast. Just listen to all those episode introductions. Takes you back, doesn't it? Almost feels like 10 years worth of sleepless horror. Well, maybe that's because it is. Greetings, sleepless listeners,

and welcome to the No Sleep Podcast, 10th anniversary bonus episode. I'm your host and founder of the show, David Cummings. As the 10th anniversary approached, I pondered how to commemorate the event. Naturally, it would include a selection of audio horror stories. It's what we do best, after all. And for this bonus episode,

we have three tales from writers who are part of our No Sleep family. What better way to share the special day? But beyond that, how does one honor what the last ten years have meant? I could talk about how it all started back in the basement of my old house, how podcasting was so new and how I was learning by the seat of my pants as I went along. I could mention how the show started to take off when I brought on the wonderful team of collaborators who have joined me over the years, the voice actors, musicians, producers, illustrators, all of whom share credit for where the show is today.

Or I could talk about how it felt back in August of 2014 when I left my job to run this show full-time. And when I thought about that moment, I knew that was what I should focus on. No, not me becoming a full-time podcaster. But the fact that I was able to do that because of our wonderful, loyal, and ever-sleepless fans. In other words, I want to talk about you.

It's easy to say things like, we couldn't do this without you, or our fans are the reason we do this. Those things are true, but it's so much more than that. Over the past 10 years, I have heard from so many of you about what this show means to you,

about how it's helped you through the dark times, or entertained you while you had to endure real-life horrors of your own. I've heard how you've shared your love of horror with your kids, or shared the traditions started many decades ago of listening to scary stories around a fire, a radio, or just going for a walk down the dark streets. And yes, I know, it sounds like a humble brag

to talk about how great it feels to know that the show is thought of so fondly by so many of our fans. But that's not the point I'm trying to make. What makes the last 10 years so special to me is that this one goofy Canadian dude started something because of what audio horror meant to him and shared it with the world. Others joined in, and now we have a show that has produced hundreds and hundreds of hours of audio horror fiction to be shared all over the planet.

It's because of you that audio horror continues to be a major force in the horror genre, and you have made our work over the last 10 years mean something to that genre. That is an incredible gift to me. I hope you can understand how profoundly grateful I am for that opportunity. So to my team, to all our writers who have shared their stories with us, and to you, I will simply say, thank you. And now, let's get on with the next 10 years. In our first tale, we join the most common of celebrations when it comes to commemorating a special yearly event, a birthday party. Everyone loves birthday parties.

Well, in general, anyway. But what if the birthday boy is that one guy amongst your friends who's always there, always tolerated, but you don't quite know why? And in this tale, shared with us by author S. H. Cooper, the birthday boy makes a wish before blowing out the candles, and he doesn't tell anyone what he wished for lest his wish not come true. Performing this tale, our Wafia White, Peter. Lewis, Dan Zapula, Sarah Olivia, and Atticus Jackson. So, as they say, be careful what you wish for, or be careful what he wishes for. And that's especially true when you find yourself attending

a party for Marty. Happy birthday! As our small chorus died down, Marty leaned in, long blonde hair held against his chest to keep it away from the 26 candles crammed into the cake top. and blue. The flames flickered, clung to their wicks for a second more, then snuffed out into little swirls of smoke that momentarily framed the birthday boy's smile. I never cared for the way Marty smiled. When our eyes met, across the table, however, I painted a similar expression on my face. What did you wish for? Daniel stood next to me, began slicing the cake. Can't tell you, if I do, it won't come true. My laugh was polite and short.

I was grateful when Daniel interrupted to ask how big of a slice we all wanted, allowing me to shift my attention away. My smile turned genuine when I looked up at him. Small is fine with me. Give me double whatever gnats having, Danny. If Daniel noticed the tone of one upmanship in Marty's request, like having more cake was some kind of achievement, he didn't comment on it.

par for the course when it came to his friend. Harmony didn't miss it, though. We shared a look that implied the eye rolls we learned to hold back. As the girlfriends of his closest friends, we often just had to accept Marty's little quirks and petty jabs, which we decided came from a place of jealousy. He had never had much luck in the romance department, and seeing his two lifelong friends getting serious

must have been a bit of a sore spot. Kind of sad, really. Not that I blame anyone but Marty. Andre, the third musketeer, Harmony's other half, jokingly slapped against the table. What's taking so long, man? Where's my cake? Daniel eyeballed the two pieces he had already cut with exaggerated care. Just making sure Marty gets what he asked for. Marty held out at hand, wiggling his fingers like an over-eager child.

Just give me my. Danny. Daniel passed off the plates and finished dividing the rest. Every year with the vanilla on vanilla, can't you switch it up just once? If you don't want it, then... No, no. I was just saying, we can't all be getting stripper cakes for our birthdays. Stripper cake? Harmony eyebrow went up, and she turned sharply to her boyfriend, who leaned defensively away. That was years ago. I didn't even know you then, babe. Yeah, it better had been. Otherwise, I hope it was baked with room for two, because you're not coming home with me tonight.

Despite the obvious levity in her threat, Marty piped up with a scoff. Don't be such a prude harm. It was just a joke. She was fat, anyway. What's that got to do with anything? Geez, you're going to get all sensitive on me now. Who's being sensitive? He didn't mean anything by it. It was just a dumb thing that did. for my 21st. Harmony stabbed her fork into her cake and twisted it.

As much as we both tried to avoid letting Marty get under our skin, he found ways to wriggle in. Nothing seemed to please him more than poking sore spots. Finding out Harmony was sensitive about weight, had opened up the floodgates for his juvenile brand of humor. A muted tension settled over our little party. The scrapes of utensils across plates took the place of conversation. To avoid the awkward silence, I shifted my gaze from the crowded table,

really too small for all of us to be sharing in an apartment's breakfast nook, and looked around the joint kitchen and living area. I had to give him credit. For all his faults, Marty really kept a tidy home, even if his style didn't mesh with mine. His furniture was dark, his decorations darker, a cage with a pair of bird skeletons, hung in one corner. His bookshelf was lined with thick leather-bound books held upright by skull ends. Framed paintings depicting hellish landscapes and terrible creatures were arranged in neat roles over his TV. When I first asked, what's to deal with all the weird stuff? Daniel said he'd been into that kind of thing since they were kid. It was just a part of who Marty was. A creep? I silently concluded.

Marty broke the silence, licking ice and off his upper lip. Hey, Hoham, give me more soda. Before she could argue, he held out his glass and grinned. It's my birthday. She swiped the glass and pushed back from the table with a huff. Only because it's your birthday. You're a peach. He lifted his hand like he meant to smack her backside as she skirted past.

She jerked to the side, scowling, but continued to the fridge for his drink. Don't push it too much. She might mix up the Coke and Clorox. Marty loved to see how far he could push things before his friends put their foot down. And Andre was drawing to the obvious line. The guys laughed. I pulled my lip into a thin line. I didn't see what was so funny about making us so uncomfortable.

Daniel read my expression and quickly tempered his own. He knew what it meant. Another Marty conversation was coming, as soon as we got home. Harmony returned and set the refill glass hard on the table, causing the silverware to jump. Anything else? Marty eyes flickered to Andre.

There was something in their pale depths that put me on edge. Not quite a question, but a cold curiosity that lingered. Give me a lap dance, Harmony. Andre rose from the table, and Daniel prepared to step in between them. Whoa, dude. No. What the fuck, Marty? I'm just kidding. Come on, do I really have to say, no, don't give me a lap dance, Harmony.

I couldn't even enjoy the guys finally putting Marty in his place. My attention was on Harmony. Had I been the only one to see her start to stand up? Not in anger, but with a coy smile and a sway to her head. hips? The moment he retracted the request, though, she plop back down. Her eyes wide. The color had drained from her face, leaving her cheeks swallow with the greenest tinge. I thought she was about to throw up. Harm? You okay? Her fingers splayed across her mouth. I... I was going to do it. I'm going to do it. I shook my head in disbelief. What? She swore. She swore.

followed hard, as if she was trying to force her horror back into her gut and leapt upright. I didn't want to, but I was going to. What the fuck? Andre, we're leaving. Andre had finally noticed how shaken she was and stepped around the table towards her. You okay, babe? We just need to go. Now. Her gaze went to Marty, who sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. Don't ruin my party over a joke. Not the time, Marty. Get your shit. We're going.

Okay, okay. Just give me a sec. Now, Andre. I gently wrap my arm around her shoulder. Come on. I'll walk you down while he gets your coats and stuff. Such a drama, queen. You really want to make an exit? Fine. Take a running jump out the window, Harmony. What is with you today? Shut the fuck up, Marty. You're not funny.

While they stood over their friend, who stared smugly up at them, Harmony wrenched herself away from me. No, no, no, no. But she was already dashing away from me, towards the nearest window. I fumbled to grab her, but she pulled sharply away. The guys turned to see her push off from the ground. Harmony! Our voices rang in time with the crash of the glass as Harmony dove head first through it. For a long moment, we stood.

Frozen, staring at the shattered window, until the screaming began to rise up from the street 12 stories below. Harmony! Andre sprang towards the window and stuck his head out, fingers digging obviously into the jagged shards. I could only stand there, numb, clinging to Daniel to Keith from sinking to the floor. When Andre turned again, his face had twisted beneath his tears. He crossed to Marty in two large steps and yanked him out of his. his seat by his shirt collar. What did you do?

Marty shrugged, which only enraged Andre Moore, and he cocked his arm back, ready to beat that self-satisfied leer off of Marty's face. Leave him for now. We need to check on Harmony. He could barely finish the sentence, but released me to grab hold of Andre's upraised wrist. I stumbled backwards, my head swimming with the distant screens and approaching sirens. André's entire body trembled as he released Marty, shoving him into the wall and turned towards Daniel. You've always been a dick, Andre. I don't know why Danny thought we needed you.

Marty, shut up. You always have to play the nice guy, Danny. Always Mr. Righteous and Rights. Well, it's time for you to listen to me for a change, and you will. You will. Stop it! We have to go to harmony. A creeping dread nodded in my stomach. I didn't know what was going on, only that we had to get away from Marty. Marty's cold smile settled on his lips again. Do me a favor. Stab, Andre, Danny.

I didn't even see Daniel pick up the long knife he had used to cut the cake. He moved so fast to comply, it just seemed to appear in his hand. The blade disappeared into Andre's gut just as quickly. My own screaming filled my ears, drowning out André's breathless exhale and Daniel's repeated apologies. Their hands hovered around the knife's handle, both too afraid to pull it out again. Andre stepped back, gaping at Daniel. Why? I don't know.

I don't. I'm sorry. All the while, Marty smiled. Danny, keep stabbing. Andre, until he's dead. Daniel launched himself at Andre, who attempted to ward him off. But Daniel didn't even seem to register his blows. He got his fingers around the hilt, protruding from Andre's side and twisted it.

Daniel ripped the knife from Andre's stomach, plunged it again, used his whole body way to drive Andre to the floor. The blade bit over and over in splashes of red. André's cries weakened, and his struggle. turned to little more than involuntary twitches with each new stab wound. Shock rooted me in place, kept me from screaming. Dimly, I thought I should be doing something to stop him, but I could hardly register what I was seeing was real. I had collapsed to my knees, hands tangled in my hair,

silently pleading for it to stop. Gradually Daniel stopped as well, He was straddling Andre's body as blood stained as his victim. His breathing ragged. The knife remained where he had last buried it in Andre's throat. His mouth moved like he was trying to speak, but no words came out. He couldn't look away from Andre's still face. I crawled on my hands and knees towards Daniel, calling his name.

It wasn't him. He hadn't done it. It was Marty. Somehow Marty had made him. I grabbed the wet sleeve of Daniel's shirt. The eyes that turned to me were hollow, uncomprehending. We have to get out of here. Come on.

Please. Marty chuckled. I tried to ignore it, tugging at Daniel's arm. Daniel only sat there. The cops will be coming any minute now. Yes, the police. That was who we needed. Help. Help us.

They will. Don't worry. Danny, take that knife and attack every police officer, you see. No! I threw myself at Daniel, trying to tackle him, to hold him down. But he shoved me off so hard I slammed into the back of the couch, catching the side of my head against its hard frame. Days, I watched him rise, dripping red and lumbering for the door. The knife clutched in his hand. Tears cut clear twin paths down his cheeks.

Daniel, I tried to go after him, but Marty stepped in front of me. I shrank back, one arm held defensively up. Get away! Oh, don't be like that, Nat. Nobody likes an uptight bitch. The lump in my throat scraped hard against my words. What did you do to them? Why? He crouched over me, teeth bared, and a predator's smile.

They listened to me. It's all I ever wanted to be heard, sometimes with a little prayer and some sacrifices. Wishes do come true. I scrambled backwards, trying to make my unsteady way around him to the door. But he clucked his tongue. Oh, no, we're not done. here, not quite yet. There is something I've always, always wanted to do to you. Don't move. I whimpered, my mind reeling in disgust, fear. But no matter how much I wanted to stand, to run, my body refused. Marty walked over to the cabinet and opened it, his back to me.

He reached in, grabbed something, withdrew it. I tried to see what he retrieved, what horror awaited me, but he turned fast, concealing the object behind his back. Then he stood there, watching me for a moment, with the look of a man who knows he's about to get exactly what he wants. Natalia, come here to me. I complied. Of course I do. Just before I had gotten close enough for the next level of panic to kick in, he stopped me. Take this. Put it on.

He produced the item from behind his back with a flourish. I stared down at the thing my hands had been made to grasp. Blank, uncomprehending horror filled my mind. I don't want to. What the fuck is wrong with you? How could you make me? Like this? But of course my protestations meant nothing.

I was already raising my hands up over my torso, over my chest, up to my neck. I felt my fingers brushed my throat. One hand held the cord in place. The other rose higher, above my head. I felt myself let go. And the dull thudding pop as the object of Marty's desire

snapped tight around my skull. There we go. Done. A party? You made me wear a party hat? Why have you always, always wanted to do this to me? Oh, this was just to set the mood. I'd bought them especially, but forgot to get them out in all the excitement. Seemed a shame to waste them entirely.

No, no, no, no, no. There is something else I've always wanted to do to you. From the first moment I laid eyes on you. A new fear swelled in my belly. When would this be over? My body tensed in fear. My fist clenched. My toes pressed into my shoes.

And then I realized, I could move. I could move. I could run. I had performed his most recent command, and I was getting the fuck out of there. But the realization came too late. With his lightning fast reflexes, his deft fingers, he reached out.

and prodded me gently on the nose. Then Marty gave a satisfied smile. I stood there for a moment, stunned, unable to react, to process anything. I looked at Marty's face, but he just gazed dreamily over my shoulder. I think a few seconds passed before I even took the first step backwards. Like I couldn't accept that there wasn't more. There had to be more, but Marty showed no signs of speaking or moving. So I did.

One step backwards. Two, three. And then my body took over, not through Marty, not through his control, but through my own survival instinct. I turned and began to run. Towards the door, towards the broken window, through which drifted the sounds of police radios of men shouting. Daniel was down there. I hadn't heard any gunshots. He could be alive.

But I couldn't think about him, or Harmony, or Andre, or anyone but myself, to make sure I could get far enough away from Marty, so as if not to hear from him if he snapped out of his trance and called me back. And then I did, I did hear him, his voice sounding over the chaos from outside, louder now. I felt my body falter, as if it was resigned to give into him simply because my brain had recognized he was starting to speak. And I heard the words. The last thing I heard Marty say before I flung open the door, darted out of the apartment, and thundered down the stairs to face whatever waited below. Happy birthday.

When it comes to anniversary celebrations, you likely don't think about corporate parties, right? Ever been to one? Where a company or its founder is being lauded for turning some ungodly age while a bunch of friends, family, and mostly board employees attend for the food and the free booze? Well, in this story, shared with us by author Olivia White, we attend a swanky soire in the future where some old corporate founder is being honored. And amidst the music and cocktails, the speeches aren't just boring. They're downright insufferable.

Performing this tale are Graham Rowett, Jeff Clement, Sarah Thomas, Aaron Lillis, David Alt, Alexander Cruz, Erica Sanderson, Jessica McAvoy, and me. So don't dwell on the past. Time, they say, devours all things, or said in a much fancier way, Tempus Adox Rare Room Good evening, one and all It's just so wonderful to see so many friends and family here tonight It means so much to me

To all of us at Winterstone Industries that you'd attend Every seat filled Exactly 100 guests And speaking of 100 It's time for the man of the moment to make his appearance ORA, wheel the boss man out Honored guests I bring you a man who needs no

introduction, my dear great-grandfather, Leonard Warren Wintermare. Yes, yes, thank you. Thank you all. Wonderful to be here at another lavish party in my honor. Gosh, feels like only a year ago when we had the last one. It was a year ago, Grandpa. Yes, yes, I know. It'll joke, you see. 100 years old in my mind, still as sharp as a man, 75 years my junior. Oh, my exact age. Well, you certainly are sharp, Grandpa. So, esteemed friends, you've already dined on the exquisite courses.

But more importantly, you've already seen our Winterstone Industries presentation. Gosh, hasn't Grandpa got it all covered? sustainable energy-based technology and transports through our company Parasoletech, deep-sea ocean study, the likes of which the world's never seen before via Marianic Echo. And of course, my personal baby, our pharmaceutical and medical technology company, GenV Medical. I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that with the founding of GenV Medical, grandpa has changed the world. The diagnostics, the patient care, the cures.

And I am as honored today to be director of Gen V as I was two years ago when Grandpa appointed me. Well, of course. My mind might be sharp as ever, and my body stronger than any hundred-year-old man could have dreamed of 20 years ago. But medical advancement is still a young man's game. We haven't quite cured the aging process, I'm afraid. Yet. But speaking of medical advancements, when will I be able to persuade you to switch that old rickety wheelchair for one of our state-of-the-art gen riders?

This old girl's all I need. Sometimes the old ways of a reason to stick around. Like you. But even if we can't persuade Grandpa to try out a new chair, At least he's willing to take our gen stem, sharp mind, sharp focus, stay young, whether your body wants you to or not. Tempo sedak serererum. Sorry, what was that, Grandpa? I said, I thought this was my birthday party, not a corporate presentation.

Come on, where's the celebrating? Where's the spectacle? Last year we had a delightful girl and a bikini busting out of a cake. I want to top that this year. Perhaps by her not wearing one. Ah, I'm afraid our dear regular Petrovon Cream wasn't available this year. Oh, really? Well, darn.

Her performances are the only action an old man like me sees all you. Other than watching my delightful assistant and nurse aura been to retrieve something I've accidentally dropped, of course. Oh, gosh, he's kidding. Mr. Wintermare would never be anything less than a gentleman, would you? Oh, I don't know. Normally I would. But if we're not having birthday cake strippers,

then I wouldn't be averse to you going above and beyond and doing a bit of a strip tease, Ms. Ananke. I'm sure everyone here can do without that. Are you kidding, woman? You're what we used to call a tall glass of water back in my day. Oh, uh, it's just the heat. I'm not tall at all, just five foot six. Ah, you're tall to a man in a wheelchair, my dear.

And your height really isn't the issue here. It's your extremely good body. Your perfect round. And maybe we should move on. Or I could demand that you remove your dress, or I'll remove your job. Oh, come on, I'm joking, I'm joking. I'd never fire, my dear aura.

She's indispensable. I'm not sure I could live without her. Well, that's incredibly sweet of you to say, Mr. Wintermare. But also, yes, we should move on. Quickly, because while we may not have Miss Petrovon Cream, we do have some extremely special guests for you tonight, Grandpa. Guests you may not have seen in a while. Ooh, I wonder who they could be.

Well, Miss Ananki, and our esteemed audience, when I spoke of Winterstone Industries Company portfolio, you may have noticed a specific, very extremely popular brand of ours missing from the list. Cardiogram. Cardiogram. As you said earlier, Grandpa, we haven't yet cured the aging process,

but we have, in a manner of speaking, mastered resurrection. Until the last decade or so, the idea of seeing a loved one again seemed impossible. And then holographic tech came along, able to recreate and portray your loved ones exactly as you remembered them, assuming you remembered them as jerky, flickery, and just a bit pale blue. But then our geniuses at cardiogram said, enough. People deserve to see their lost loved ones properly. And now, just a few years later, our patented, Real hollow technology brings your nearest and dearest back as almost perfect simulacra.

Higher fidelity. Richer, proper color, audio which can almost, almost identically match a person's exact vocal code, regardless of the source. Across the world, cardiogram booths are more popular than ever. 25 seconds with a near perfect recreation of someone you lost. 25 seconds, no more. The perfect amount of time before the human. brain is able to start processing the hologram as anything other than wholly real.

But 25 seconds, that's not long, is it? So we've been striving for more. And today, for the first time, I'm proud to announce to all our living beloved here and to the whole world that we haven't extended the time limit. We have eradicated it! Debuting today, you will bear witness to the latest, Cardiogram Advancement, indefinite holographic reproductions of your departed loved ones

that are imperceptible from the real deal. Perfect recreations. And who better? Who more deserving of the first public visitation than the man who started it all, Mr. Leonard Warren Wintermayr. The cameras are rolling. This event is televised. We are live on networks across the world.

So shut down the lights. And let me introduce our first guest. Grandpa's older brother, Corporal Virgil Wintermare. Younger bro. Ah, you're looking well. At ease, private, war's over. What's done is done. Oh, Virgil.

My dear Virgil, it's you. I have so much to say. He's gone. I wanted more time. I had to bring him back. You said indefinite. Yes, yes. I'm sure we can arrange a visit from Virgil again,

but we have a guest list and a time frame to stick to. Don't worry, Grandpa, this is just the beginning. It's time to reunite you with my dear great-grandmother, your beloved wife, Muriel Wintermare. Leonard? Muriel, my dear, you look ravishing. Yes, it does appear they've smoothed out a few of my wrinkles.

You always were nagging me to get more work done. And I said, Leonard, there's only so much a plastic surgeon can do for a 65-year-old. Well, I'm glad they brought me back, looking how I did when you were still a... attracted to me. Wait, Muriel, I was always... I always loved you.

Halden, bring her back. I need to tell her that. She knows how you loved her, Grandpa. I'm sure she's been watching over you this whole time. Again, maybe we can see her later. As you all know, Grandpa had two children with Muriel. The firstborn was his beloved son, Walter Wintermar. Rest his soul, conceived on the day World War II ended, they say. Oh, Walt, my dear Walt, yes. Alas, limited time, so we could only pick one apple from his eye. Allow me to welcome my dear grandmother, namesake of Gen.V. Wintermare.

I'm sorry, I'm not Walt, father. I kept the family name when I married, like you insisted. I hope you're proud of me for that. It's Genevieve, not Walt? Genevieve, it's okay. It's lovely to see you. Oh, for... Unfortunately, my own parents were unable to attend tonight's festivities.

But, Dad, if you and Mom are watching this live on your cruise, then I hope seeing Nana Jenny again brought you joy. And speaking of bringing joy, our next guest is, well, Leonard's dead four. former maid. Yay! Oh, what is this nonsense? She says, wonderful to see you, Mr. Leonard. She says, it was a pleasure to work for you, Mr. Leonard.

Um, yes, you thoroughly brightened my days during your time in my employ, miss... She says, Maldito demonio, Vejo Succio, and Fault of Repetto! She says, See you in heaven in many years, Mr. Leonard.

Isn't this wonderful, everyone? The advancements Cardiogram have made. But where would Cardiogram be without Winterstone Industries, Grandpa's parent company? And where would Winterstone

be without the stone? Just winter. And nobody wants eternal winter. So now we're proud to welcome via the technology of the company he personally created within our brand family, the man Grandpa used to call the Stone in his shoe,

co-founder Eugene Nightstone. I said that affectionately. Len, you've done well for yourself. It was so great at first, wasn't it? Wintermare and Nightstone, Winterstone. We always joked your name had to come first, otherwise we'd be a nightmare. Do you get it, everyone?

Oh, dear, it works much much. better written down. Night with a K and mayor spelled, oh, you all get it. Sorry, it's a neurosis. I always talk too much, too fast, especially around Len. You always made me nervous, Len. Really nervous. I never stopped. Don't be silly, Eugene. We worked together for years. We were best friends. Everyone here knows this. We were. But nervous. But you let me make a cordiogram. Look what they've done now.

Life-like holograms. Back when I died, I just had visions of virtual reality and movies you can stand in. They've done all that now. It's way bigger than I pictured. Oh, so impressive. I wish I'd been around to see it. Still, what I saw of the 90s was fun.

And Marianic Eco, I loved that. Loved seeing the fishes, saving the ocean. And then you took it from me and gave it to someone else and they started things I didn't understand. Still, don't. It was okay because you wanted me to focus on cordiogram. And now they've brought me back to life. See?

Everything worked out, Eugene. Everything worked out. You did make me nervous, though. The medical things with Genvi and playing God, not right. And parasolar doing good while doing bad, solar power and war machines, saving the earth and destroying it, paradoxical, conflicting. It scared me. Now listen.

Listen here, Eugene. Wait, it's not Eugene. This isn't Eugene. It's a hologram. They're all holograms. Why am I even justifying myself to it? Why is it saying these things, Halden? Grandpa, we feed as much personal data as we're allowed access to into the algorithm.

The AI generates the rest. This is just what Eugene would say if he were here. Alive. For real. It's very accurate. I promise you. I'm sorry, folks. This one's gone bit wrong. Say bye-bye, Eugene. Hit and run. What a way to go for a man like me. Never did catch the driver. Thank you for making yourself cry at my funeral, O' Leonard.

Had Genvi developed tear-stimulating injection just for me. Thoughtful. Use it at all the other's funerals. Kind of you. It's a good gesture. I... Oh, Holden. I think we might... need to... need to end the party. My brain's feeling a little less sharp.

Or are... Aren't I late for my genston nose? Or am I? Did I have it? Did you give it to me? Have you got it? Oh, come now, Mr. Winterman. Mayor, where could I possibly be concealing a syringe of gen stem in this type, revealing little red dress you made me wear tonight?

Especially if I'd followed your orders of not wearing underwear. Well, luckily, I have your dose right here, Grandpa. Uh, Oura, it's in the box on the table in front of me. You're the nurse, I'll leave it to you. Ah, here we go. Just a little prick. And we're done. all dosed up and ready for the last guests.

And now, for one of the most beloved members of the Winterstone Industries family, someone who's watching over us all, an angry bearded hobo. You fucking bastards! Get off me! Get your fucking hands off me! Fuck you mean, genetic, acule. match. You ain't taking my fucking eyes. Alden, get my eye man away. He's not on the guest list.

She is to say I had such beautiful eyes. I don't want to be blinded. I don't want to live in the dark. And nor did you. After he bade me take your eyes for the ocular transplants, he insisted we do you the mercy of ending your suffering. But don't worry, he made sure I put the rest of your body to good use. There's still so much you can do with a fresh cadaver. And speaking of fresh cadavers, let's waste no more time in bringing in my, your final guest, grandpa,

taken from us far too early, just five years ago, at the mere age of 20. My dear, beloved, precious twin sister, Miss Anya Wintermayr. No. Your own flesh and blood. How could you? Oh, Anya, you are so beautiful. You're decayed. No.

Five years dead in that hole will do that to you. You should see the other now. How long ago was the first? Carol? 75 years ago? And I was the tenth, the most recent. One for every decade you've been alive. Happy 100th birthday, great-grandpa!

I suppose I should be grateful you were too frail to do any more than slit my throat. Still had your men wheel you to the hole, the well, and made sure you were the one who gave my body the final push. Forget this. They're away from me. You guys are lucky it's me here and not one of the others. You should see the state of some of them. Eviscerated, brutalized. Never sexual, though. He prided himself on that.

Just pure, visceral violence. It would shock even all of you, our friends and family. All of you who've sat here pretending to be oblivious, Knowing full well that this man you're all here to celebrate is an actual monster and always has been. Turning the blind eye, afraid to lose his favor, his money. You all played a part in the terrible things he's done. Listen, yeah. So, Grandpa, I've wondered all this time.

Was I to be the last? Is that why you chose me, a family member? Your oh so beloved great-granddaughter? Or could you just not resist? Was it going to stop with me? Was I special? Or was I just another one of your toys? Stop with you.

Yes, Anya. I'm sorry. I'm old. I didn't. Hard to access young women. I know. Has to be ones I've charmed. Pointless, otherwise.

It was you or aura. And I need aura. She takes care of me. She... Oh, yes. I know how you've gained all our trust. All of us down here in this deep, dark hole. We talk, you know, about everything.

And they asked me to pass a message on. Oh, no. You will pay for what you've done for the rest of your miserable life. Five years it took me, Leonard, Warren, Wintermayr. Five long years to prove you killed my sister. I knew. Of course I knew. But I couldn't prove it.

You're henchmen, your little goons who set this up for you now. You're too old. pathetic. They're well-trained. Impossible to get them to talk, even under torture. You never wondered, never even noticed how many have disappeared over the last five years? Is everyone disposable to you? Ha, I guess I can't criticize. At this point, my body counts higher than yours. I tried and failed to break so many of your lackeys who might be able to offer me proof you killed Anya. And in the end, it was ORA, my dear, dear partner in crime. the one person who hates you almost as much as I do.

And all she had to do was find your diary. Your grotesque, repulsive kill diary you've kept since you first murdered a woman just because you could. The one hidden in the secret compartment. You know, when you pull the light fixture? How that's... Oh, I'm very observant. And very good at hiding cameras. Halden only discovered how much I despise you recently, confided in me about Anya.

Didn't take long to find the evidence he needed after that, and I had no idea you'd murdered women for the fun of it. And I still hated you from the bottom of my heart. But, or why? I know I've been unseemly, but I've paid you? So well, never hurt you. What did I do? Who did I hurt to make you hate me so?

Oh, you want a backstory? A deep, dark motive for revenge? Okay, here you go. Nothing. There is nothing. I didn't even know about any of the evil shit your companies got up to until Halden told me. The fact is, I hate you because you are a despicable, disgusting human being.

You treat me like an object. You treat everyone around you like objects. And you treat yourself like a god. That's it. That's all. I hated you because you deserve to be hated. And when I found out the depths of your depravity, that's when I knew you deserved to be ruined. And speaking of ruining, I could have ruined you a thousand times over, Lenny old man, for years.

But I didn't, because it had to be omnia. It had to be her who brought your ruination for her, for her vengeance. And then, once it could be her, that's when I revealed everything else to the world. We're live on TV, remember? But of course, I also revealed it to the law. Every evil thing you've done. But revealing me... Wait, Halden, where did you go?

Revealing you would reveal my complicity, yes. Orah, you've been a wonderful ally and confidant, and I'm sorry I deceived you. I promised I'd turn myself in, too. But the fact of the matter is, I'm a winter mayor. I'm not a good person either. Right now, I'm brinkervous. broadcasting to you live from a hidden location. You won't find it. I've spent a few years preparing

for this, preparing the labs and equipment and staff I need to continue what I've achieved. But first, let me just say, didn't I promise you all the reveal of indefinite, perfect holograms? Well, I think mine had you all fooled this entire presentation, didn't it? And don't worry, I've ensured that cardiogram won't be ruined. They've always been separate from the evil. just as Eugene would have wanted. And tonight, the final contract was signed. Cardiogram is no longer part of the Winterstone Industries family. New owners.

This wonderful tech will be released to the pub. Halden. It's a shame Gen V will be destroyed. We've made so many advancements. Just, you know, ethics matter, apparently. But this is why I couldn't keep my promise to you, ORA. Why I have to remain free. You'll understand shortly.

Meanwhile, Leonard, I have arranged the timing with certain friends in law enforcement, and I know there are plenty others here tonight who'll be implicated in Leonard's crimes. I suggest the rest of you remain in your seats. The law's been ordered to shoot on site if they see anyone trying to flee. But you, Leonard, you're being kept alive. You're going to suffer for years. You're going to prison for a very, very long time. Haldon, you... I'm 100 years old.

I haven't got a very, very long time. And without Gen. Without Gen Stim. Oh yeah, that's my last thing. My real birthday present to you, Leonard. What Orr injected you with before... I'm sorry for deceiving you again, Orah. Wasn't Gen Stim.

Earlier, you said we haven't cured the aging process. And I suppose you were right, because we haven't. But I have. Without you. And I haven't just cured it, but I've reversed it. It's not perfected yet. It needs a little tweaking, and this is why I've got to stick around and stay free. But the dose of compound edicts you were given is most definitely working.

I'm looking at your bio-readings right here. And the change should occur about now. Oh, there we go. Doesn't he look good? Compound edicts has given him the body and health of a man, oh, I don't know, 75 years younger. Unfortunately, it can't heal everything yet. You still won't be able to walk.

Spinal cord injuries aren't quite covered yet. Again, more work I got to stick around for. But in terms of health and lifespan, you're good to go. I hope you enjoy those long, long years ahead of you. I know I will. I'll be spending them playing God. And you, well, I guess you'll know how Anya felt being trapped in a deep, dark prison.

And on the subject of prison, I can see an armed response unit ready to breach the auditorium door any second now. So all I have left to say is... Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, great grandpa. Happy birthday to...

In our final tale, we celebrate an event that takes most people four years of hard work before they can be commemorated, a high school graduation. Most schools have their own traditions which take place each time a graduating class is honored, school songs, unique ceremonies, and perhaps some playful hijinks. But in this tale, shared with us by author A.C. McAnally, we learn of one school and the town it serves,

which makes their graduating class pay a very severe price. Performing this tale are Kyle Akers, Nicole Goodnight, Graham Rowett, Nicole Doolin, James Cleveland, Ellie Hirschman, and Atticus Jackson. So be thankful if you just had to endure long speeches and silly mortar boards on your head. That's far better than Fulton High School's commencement ceremony. Everyone heard the stories growing up, but they told us the official version when we hit our sophomore year. Mayor Tomlinson stood on the stage in our small cafeteria to my class of less than 100.

I'm sure your parents have handed our tradition down to you, but if you're not a lot of you, but if you're It is customary for all new high school students in the Fulton School District to be told exactly what to expect from your commencement ceremony when you reach graduation. You see, the town of Fulton has a long-standing tradition that lends itself to our alumni's success in life. There are no homeless in Fulton, no crime, no disease, and no one that graduates from Fulton ever becomes a victim of poverty or illness, even if you choose to leave the town. but that hand of privilege is not given to our township without payment. So when your year of commencement comes, one of you must pay the price.

We heard the tradition as a bedtime story. A fable as a warning to be good. As many fables are meant to scare kids into obedience. Keep good grades, be a good person, and your commencement will go smoothly. Foulter in any way and risk being the one to pay the price for the many. Three families were forbidden to ever participate in the lottery. The Bennets, the Avales, and the Greens. Their whole families, but one member from each, were the original sacrifices.

We were warned that to sacrifice them again would be, well, nobody ever seemed to know. Parents always just said it would be bad. I was never quite sure who they meant it be bad for, though. We were all given the choice to transfer schools, forego Fulton's tradition. A few kids transferred, but most of us stayed. We understood the risk, and the reward was worth it. Once the decision was made, I actually looked forward to my senior year. My senior prom, my last year as captain of the basketball team,

my last beta club's state convention, a lot of lasts. And I told myself they would all be good lasts. And there was a flip side to it, as my older brother told me when he graduated a year before me. The week leading up to his graduation, he walked around with a chip on his shoulder. Dickie got chosen to be the token, and the whole town is acting like he's our savior.

He gets free meals everywhere he goes, and is treated like a war hero. Way to preach to us not to be the token in our year of commencement, and then flaunt all the fun shit that falls upon them. Mom heard him complaining from the other room and popped her head in. Don't speak of him that way. All the adornments in the world are not enough to make up for the price he is paying for you. Be grateful it isn't you.

I'd be more grateful if I was getting a tail he was getting. Was that my answer to getting girls? Becoming the token? There had to be an easier way than that. Prom proved to be my first real motivation to find a girlfriend. Between college prep, sports, my friends, and a part-time job, I stayed busy. But once prom tickets went on sale, my friends bugged me to find someone. And that's when Morgan arrived.

We had three of the same classes together. In English, the seat beside me was the only one available, so by proxy, we became friends. She, of course, was the one to initiate it. I was too shy to say hi. Hi, I'm Morgan. Looks like I'll be joining you in this class. Oh, uh, hi. I'm Nick.

Nice to meet you. How long have you been here in Fulton? Me? Oh, my whole life. What, being a legacy and all? A legacy? Shit. She might not have been told how things work yet. I was not going to be the one to educate her. Oh, just that both my parents are also from here and my grandparents? Morgan made herself at home beside me. Oh, that's awesome. I think my great, great grandparents were from here or something like that.

Oh, that's cool. So what made you want to come back? I want to be a pediatrician, and this town has one of the best clinics for kids and best medical programs for it in the state. Might as well be here and get comfortable. Know the place before I make another big change in my life. I bet that job must be pretty boring around here, actually. No one ever gets sick here. I heard that about this town, and that's fascinating to me.

Still, kids' growth must still be monitored. Imagine getting to see a baby growth through all their stages. You must really like kids, huh? Oh, I don't think I would ever want any myself, but I would love helping others. The tardy bell rang and stopped our conversation, but we had many like that in between classes. It took me weeks to work up the courage to ask her to prom. But before I could ask her, she brought it up. As we were examining goat's eyes, she cornered me.

So, do you have a date to prom yet? I think I could have died right then. No, I don't think. don't think I'll be getting one either. Oh, come on. A cute guy like you? Someone is bound to be waiting for you to ask them. Did she mean she was waiting?

Or just in general? I panicked trying to figure out what she really meant. I, um, well, it's, it's just... I think I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fluster you. If you don't want a date to prom, no biggie. I don't have a date either, so I was just a date. going to ask if you wanted to go together as friends.

Oh, as friends. Did she think I didn't want to date her for real, or was she not interested in me? God, why was this shit so complicated? That is, if it's okay with you? If not, it's no big deal. Sure. Yes. Why not?

It could be fun. Great. My dress is yellow if you want to try and match. Do you want to meet here or come get me? crap, I'd have to ask to borrow Dad's car now. I can come pick you up. Perfect. It's a date. Holy shit, it was a date.

I picked her up at her house, which was actually in the same neighborhood Beth lived in. It was a one-story brick house with a two-car garage. Why I thought she would live in the woods somewhere was beyond me. There was just so much mystery around her for me, not ever hanging out with her after school. We walked in together and... All eyes were on us. Her dress was beautiful. The yellow glow, a beautiful contrast to her tan skin and dark hair.

I walked her over to the chair section, as I told her before that I don't dance. She was fine with that. Another girl from our class, Rachel, met us by the chairs. Well, not really us, only Morgan. The two hugged and laughed, and before I knew it, they were swept away out of the dance floor together. I watched Morgan dance, wishing I had the girls. courage to join her, but I didn't. So I sat and enjoyed watching her,

until my friends, James, and Todd, came up. Dude, what are you doing? Why are you getting close to her? Neither of us had dates, so I thought I'd bring her. But she's going to be the token. Why would you do that to yourself? My annoyance was clear in my words. You don't know that.

I would appreciate it if you would stop with that. She's not a legacy. It's more likely that an outsider be chosen than any legacy. and the lotteries tonight after prom, so you might want to do her before then. I said we came as friends. Don't talk about her like that. He shrugged, and they both got up to return to their dates. Suit yourself. I went back to watching Morgan dancing, and eventually she persuaded me to slow dance.

Hugging her so close, my mind was distracted. The more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself Todd and James were right. But plenty of legacies had been. tokens. Just looking at the wall of the gym where senior class portraits hung, at the top of the list alone was each year's token. Plenty of legacies smiled from those pictures. We would find out at the lottery at the end of the night. We sat at a table with Rachel and her date, but I barely talked. The moment that would decide the rest of my life was almost here. I just pushed around my food. My stomach was tied in knots. Morgan nudged me.

So, do you have any plans after prom's over? After prom? It wasn't ending until midnight. Did she mean what I think she meant? My palms were so sweaty I had to wipe them off on my pants. I was just going to go home and binge watch some anime. Cool. Think your parents would let me?

If my parents were ever going to allow a girl to stay all night, it would be lottery night. Or commencement night. I'll ask them once we're done. Mayor Tomlinson stood at the podium, tapping the mic for attention. Have your attention, please. Chaperones, it is time for you to leave the gym. Seniors, please line up in front of the stage. Servers, please bus plates quickly.

Follow the chaperones out when you're done, and we will start the lottery shortly. It took about ten minutes for everyone's tables to be cleared. It was the longest ten minutes of my life. Morgan and Rachel just kept jabbering while I sat there. wondering if it was going to be me that pulls the black marble. Mayor Tomlinson returned to the mic with the city council on the stage behind him. Thank you, junior class servers and volunteer chaperones. Now, graduating class of Fulton High,

tonight is the night that you leave your childish ways behind you and become the upstanding young adults I know you to be. For you to leave tonight with the blessing given to the citizens of Fulton, one of you must be the token for the blessing that will be given to us at your commission. commencement ceremony. One of the council members handed Mayor Tomlinson in a black velvet bag. He jingled it as he approached the couples at the end of the line.

When I come to you, please pull a marble from the bag, but do not reveal what it is yet. Morgan leaned against me. How's this part work? I let the surprise show on my face. They didn't tell you? All the marbles are white, but one. Whoever pulls the black marble becomes the token. She nodded.

The mayor made his way down the line. My blood throbbed in my ears the closer he got. My hands trembling as he approached. Morgan petted my back. It's okay. Everything will be okay. God, I hope so. Morgan plucked her marble from the bag like she was eating popcorn.

The mayor held the bag out to me. I took a deep breath and lowered my hand in. The pile of marble is still warm with everyone's touches. I dug deep and stirred them around. finally grabbing one. I kept my fist tight as I pulled my hand out. The mayor made it to the end of the line. Once all of the marbles were picked, he returned to the stage.

Graduating class of Fulton High, show us your futures. At the same time, we all raised our hands out in front of us and revealed our marbles. I let out a breath when I saw the white marble sitting in my hand. But that was the only relieved emotion I was allowed to show. Deference or praise had to be shown to the people. token holder. And she happened to be sitting right beside me. Morgan held out a black token, giggling as if she'd just won a million dollars. I got it. Now what? Rachel squealed beside Morgan and started jumping up and down. The gym drowned in applause as my classmates cheered Morgan on.

They called her up to the stage and presented her the token plaque and took photos. Congratulations, dear Morgan Fletcher on being this year's token for commencement. I believed to tradition. I believed in choosing for yourself whether or not to follow Fulton's traditions. I believed in giving all the gifts Fulton has to offer before commencement, but never had I believed in congratulating the token. When she returned to me, all I could do is smile and hug her and say thank you. I wondered how she'd handle commencement. Two weeks of people worshipping Morgan, giving her anything she could dream of having. And then before we knew it, graduation was upon us. I dreaded it almost as much as I dreaded the lottery, but instead of for myself, I worried for Morgan.

She agreed to the risks just like the rest of us and seemed content with all the things she'd be receiving, but she was my first girlfriend. I didn't want to lose her this way. But a selfish part of me was still relieved. It wasn't me that was chosen to be the token. Fulton graduation was very different from any other graduation in the country. It did not take place on a football field or in the gym. Rain or shine, students and parents came to the school. school at dusk and took the mile-long path behind the gym that led deeper into the Ozark National

Forest to the amphitheater. The way was lit by torches once it was full dark. The stage of the amphitheater had a stake in the center and faced further into the forest beyond. There was no back wall to the stage. The only decorative thing was the archway between the two trees made completely of branches and vines. The graduates sat in the two rows nearest the stage, while family and friends filed into the upper rows. City council members stood beside the mayor on stage. No valedictorian speeches were made. Only the commencement by the mayor.

We watched you grow, and now we shall watch you prosper with us, thanks to the token of this year's graduate class. Morgan Fletcher, please join me on stage. Still smiling, she stepped forward. I wish I would have stopped her. I wish I would have pulled her back to me and kissed her, but I was too much of a coward. and too in shock that she was the token to do anything but stare.

The standing ovation from the crowd summoned the gowrow, our savior, and destroyer. All applause stopped when the ground shook. Every tremor beneath my feet sent goosebumps all over my body. Sure, I was safe from being the token, but that didn't stop me from being afraid of the monster. What the fuck is that? Hey, get your hands off of me. Morgan's pleas turned my attention back to her. The council members were tying her to the stake. Graduates, do not worry.

You are safe to bear witness of our blessing. And unfortunately, sometimes our tokens are not as willing as they were before the lottery. It's understandable, but unavoidable. The mayor's words struck true. If it were me, I didn't know if I would have gone silently either. But I agreed to the risk and wouldn't have fought them when they tied me up. Nick? Nick?

What's going on? Nick? Help me. Ignore her, Nick. You will be fine as long as you stand true. Nick, please, what are they doing to me? Please help me. She didn't know?

Morgan, were you told about this? Were you told about the lottery? No, Nick? What are they doing to me? Nick. A council member stuck a gag in her mouth and I lost my shit. Stop! She wasn't informed about our tradition.

She didn't agree to this. I walked toward the stage, but Todd and James stopped me. Todd whispered in my ear. Keep your voice down, dude. This is happening. Did you know? Did you know she wasn't told anything? It's easier that way for the outsiders.

They never understand our ways, but always want to enjoy the blessing. No, this isn't right. She wasn't told. She didn't agree. I looked for Rachel to back me up. Rachel was Morgan's friend, after all, but once I spotted her, she wouldn't look at me.

God damn, these people. The tremors got louder, and I heard it. I heard its call, its namesake. I stopped struggling against my friend's grip as it came into view. It stood almost as tall as the trees. Its webbed feet breached the archway. Its long claws hung in front of its belly. Two thick tusks protruded from its mouth.

As it turned its head to look around, short horns glimmered and aligned down its back. I struggled against my friends until they pinned me to the ground. ground. It wasn't right. Plenty of us knew. Plenty of us were willing. Why did it have to be? Fuck did I like her? She didn't know. She shouldn't have to sacrifice for something she didn't believe in.

The Galra snarl. I turned my head away. I couldn't bear to watch what I knew was coming. But silence followed Morgan's last scream. The crowd began to gasp and murmur. What did they witness? Did the Galrao take her in one bite?

Maybe she fainted before it took her, so she didn't have to be awake for it. No way. At his words, I looked up. Morgan sat perched on the Gowarow's shoulder, leaning against its neck laughing. You fucking idiots. The mayor approached the Gowrow. No, no, this can't be.

You're an outsider. Sorry, Mayor Tomlinson, but you should have done your homework. My family was originally from here. You know them as the Bennets. And you know the punishment for sacrificing a founding family member. The world around me vibrated. A high-pitched buzz stung my ears, forcing me to double over, holding my head. When the gowero quieted, a startled silence fell upon the ground.

I breathed hard, trying to shake the pain, but my skin began to itch. I rubbed my arms and then started scratching uncontrollably. I heard screams all around me. Some people fell over dead. Some people screamed of broken bones. Some began coughing uncontrollably. And some were fine, only horrified for their neighbors and ran. My mother ran to me, holding her hand against her chest.

It was bruised and swollen. Nick? Nicky, are you okay? I can't stop scratching. It's okay. It's only poison ivy. You fell into a huge patch of it when you were young. When I was young?

Why am only now itching? The Fulton blessing. It's gone. We have to get out of here. Where's Dad and Jay? She didn't answer. Just pulled at me. The Gaurau screeched and I turned to it.

The council members were shooting at it, but it did nothing. Their screams sounded the alarm for my classmates to run. But the tail of the Gow rowed half of them down in one swoop. I laid there, staring up at Morgan and the creature, sure I was next. But Morgan made eye contact with me. She patted the gow route, and he picked her up and lowered it to me. We stopped running, and I shielded mom behind me. No way could we outrun that thing.

My only hope was to talk some sense into Morgan. Thank you for trying to save me, Nick. And for your efforts? Your family will only suffer minimally. I'm sorry we couldn't get to know each other more. But I have to end this. It's what my family wanted. This is the end of Fulton's.

good fortune. And any attempt to make the deal again will be the end of Fulton altogether. You make sure no one tries, okay? I nodded as she kissed my cheek. I wish I could see you again, but I hope I never do. She patted the gowrow, and it raised her back to its shoulder. They followed the screams of my remaining classmates through the forest, leave my mother and I the only ones not screaming beneath the archway. We eventually found my brother and dad.

They were bruised, and my brother had a sprained ankle. but they were alive and in one piece. The same couldn't be said for most of Fulton. After the initial shock of the failed commencement, the town became quiet again. But slowly we suffered the effects. People lost jobs. Crime and poverty slowly crept in,

along with more illness. But the rest of the world suffered the same fate. Nothing made us special anymore. I was fine with that. But it didn't stop me from going to the amphitheater, hoping that Morgan would be there. the 10th anniversary of the No Sleep Podcast with us. To hear many more stories and to learn more about our show,

please visit the nosleeppodcast.com and follow us at No Sleep Podcast on most social media platforms. The first 10 years of the No Sleep podcast proudly featured the talents of these regular contributors. Abby Howard, Addison Peacock, Alexandra Cruz, Alexis Bristow, Andy Cresswell, Armin Taylor, Atticus Jackson, Audrey McAvoy, Brandon Boone, Brian Manzi, Charlie Cody, Corinne Sanders, Dan Zupula, Danielle McCray, David Alt, Eden, Ellie Hirschman, Emily Cannon, Erica Sanderson, Aaron Lillis, Gabrielle Lucks, Graham Rowett, Hassani Walker, James Cleveland, Jeff Clement, Jen Tracy, Jesse Cornett, Jessica McAvoy, Yarn, Kelly Turnbull Kristen Neubert Kristen Di Macurio

Chris Hooka Kyle Acres Luke Godluski Mark Pelham Mary Murphy Matthew Bradford Mick Wingert Mike Delgadoo

Naomi Ronk Nicole Goodnight Nicole Doolin Olivia White Penny Scott Andrews Peter Lewis Phil Mikulski Rebecca Klingel

Sarah Olivia Sarah Thomas Tanya Milozovic Thaya Arnman Unca Odiea, Violet Rodriguez, and Wafia White. The musical score was composed by Brandon Boone. Our production team is Phil Mikulski, Jeff Clement, and Jesse Cornett. Our creative content manager is Olivia White.

Our editor-in-chief is Jessica McAvoy. I'm your host and executive producer, David Cummings. This audio production is copyright 2021 by Creative Reason Media, Inc. All rights reserved. The copyrights for each story are held by the respective authors. No duplication or reproduction of this audio program is permitted without the written consent of Creative Reason Media, Inc.