The NoSleep Podcast - NoSleep Podcast S10E19

Episode Date: April 1, 2018

It's episode 19 of Season 10. On this week's show we have five tales about alluring arcades, terrifying titans, and hungering horrors. "The One-Headed Hound" written by Ken M and performed by David Cummings & Nichole Goodnight & Jesse Cornett & Jessica McEvoy. (Story starts around 00:01:40) "Gambo's Game Room"† written by Luke Hoehn and performed by Kyle Akers & Peter Lewis. (Story starts around 00:10:30) "Head in the Clouds"¤ written by Jesse Clark and performed by Mike DelGaudio & Dan Zappulla & Addison Peacock & Jesse Cornett. (Story starts around 00:32:20) "Within the Den"† written by J.J. Cheesman and performed by Nichole Goodnight & Erin Lillis & Nikolle Doolin & Erika Sanderson. (Story starts around 01:07:20) "Padre del Oro"† written by V.R. Gregg and performed by Addison Peacock & Jesse Cornett. (Story starts around 01:22:40) "The Eastwoods"‡ written by Henry Galley and performed by Jessica McEvoy & Erika Sanderson & Nikolle Doolin & Nichole Goodnight & Jeff Clement & Atticus Jackson & David Ault & Erika Sanderson & Mary Murphy. (Story starts around 01:50:30) Click here to learn more about the voice actors on The NoSleep Podcast   Click here to learn more about the Escape the Black Farm Tour   Click here to learn more about Ken M   Click here to learn more about Luke Hoehn   Click here to learn more about Jesse Clark   Click here to learn more about V.R. Gregg   Click here to learn more about Henry Galley   Executive Producer & Host: David Cummings Musical score composed by: Brandon Boone Audio adaptations produced by: Phil Michalski† & Jeff Clement‡ & Jesse Cornett¤ "Gambo's Game Room" illustration courtesy of Hasani Walker Audio program ©2018 - 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

Hey, this is David, and I'm going to share with you some thoughts about Talkspace. Talkspace is the online therapy company that lets you message a licensed therapist from anywhere at any time. That means you can improve your mental health even if you've had trouble making time for it in the past. I just spent 31 days on the road for the Escape the Black Farm Tour. It was a great experience, shared with a wonderful group of people, met lots of very friendly and encouraging fans. I received a great deal of support throughout the tour. But you know what? That doesn't mean there weren't times when I struggled with the pressure of the road

and even the isolation, loneliness in the midst of all those people. That's why talk space is so great, because it's accessible from anywhere. With talk space, therapy is as easy as sending your therapist a message. Get something off your chest whenever you need to. Talk about everyday challenges at work or at home. Just chat about life. There are no extra commutes, no leaving the office or school, and no judgments. Remember that therapy isn't just about venting your innermost thoughts or dredging up painful

memories from your past. It's also about practical, everyday strategies for stress management and living a happier life. For me, even on tour, I felt I needed times to share my thoughts and feelings about the hectic pace of life on the road. Putting what's in your head into words for someone else to understand can be very therapeutic. And having a therapist simply provides a designated person for you to talk to, who is trained to listen and help you make those positive changes. The Talkspace platform has over 2,000 licensed therapists who are experienced in addressing the life challenges we all face.

You don't have to be in the depths of despair to benefit from Talkspace. You just need to recognize the difference it can make to share with another person what you're dealing with. even if you're a podcaster doing live shows about a horrifying pig in the afterlife. So do yourself a favor. Reach out to Talkspace. To match with a perfect therapist for a fraction of the price of traditional therapy, go to Talkspace.com slash No Sleep

and use the offer code No Sleep to get $30 off your first month. You'll be glad you did. That's Talkspace.com slash No Sleep with the offer code No Sleep. sleep. The following audio horror presentation is intended to frighten and disturb. Join us on this dark and unsettling journey at your own risk. Because behind these doors, there will be no sleep. Brace yourself for the no sleep podcast. It's the no sleep podcast. I'm David Cummings. Thanks for joining us. On the show this week, we have five tales about a luring arcane. Terrifying Titans and Hungering Horrors.

It's Easter weekend, so I hope everyone who celebrates the festival, even the chocolatey kind, is enjoying themselves. It's hard to believe April has arrived already. Wait, April? The start of April? Oh no. That means... Oh, it's too late. I can't stop it.

The Beast returns! returns. No one is safe from the one-headed hound. My wife and I always wanted a dog. I guess you could say we had pooch fever. Nothing special, mind you? Just a big hairy dog to brighten our days and bark up our nights. It didn't even need to be physically attractive. So once Jenny and I moved from our Crempt City apartment to an idyllic little house in the Hudson Valley, well, let's just say we worked overtime to conceive a dog of our own. But after a year of trying, and a lot of disappointment along the way, we finally resigned ourselves to adopting one instead. With that in mind, we put on our Sunday best and drove to our local SPCA. God knows there were plenty of hairy dogs

to choose from. But Jenny was immediately smitten by a tiny, shivering mutt, a sad-looking pop whose coat was entirely black, except for a small white marking on his chest that resembled a cross only upside down. Ken, this is the one. Look at him. He's perfect. I was inclined to agree, but the old crone who ran the place had other ideas. Oh, you don't want little Henry. He's from bat stock. Excuse me? Bad stock? He's actually scheduled to be euthanized tomorrow.

Henry's what you would call a bad seed. Well, that was the wrong thing to say to Jenny. My wife was always looking out for the underdog, even when it was just an adjacent dog. Or maybe he's a child of God who just needs a little love. I mean, how heartless are you? Suit yourself. One child of God coming right out.

The next few weeks were a blissful blur. Jenny taught little Henry how to fetch the morning paper. Oh, good boy, Henry. And I taught him how to clean my sweaty feet after a long day at the office. Good boy, Henry. One winter evening, we took him. Henry to the park where we could toss the old Frisbee around before watching the sun go down together. And that's when we were confronted by the only other person in the park.

An old man that an insensitive person might describe as a homeless bum. The homeless bomb was standing over an illegal campfire, warming up his barely legal can of beans, before he hobbled over to us with a wild look in his eyes. You're not your dog. Excuse me? He has the mark. What are you talking about? What mark?

He bent down and pointed to the topsy-turvy cross on Henry's chest. He's the spun-headed hound. Oh, come look him. And she won't give up until she stakes her claim. Realizing that we were dealing with a gentleman of the mentally ill persuasion, Jenny and I remain polite and respectful as we got up to leave. Okay. Well, it's been great talking to you. Yeah, we'd better be getting back to the comfort and warmth of our beautiful home.

Have a good night. Despite our cheerful exit, the old man's warning disturbed us deeply. And yet, Jenny and I were too afraid to admit it to each other, which only caused our anxiety to manifest itself in petty, ugly ways. Okay. Why do you keep stuffing your dirty underwear in my dresser with my clean clothes? I suppose you'd rather I just threw it all on the floor and cluttered up the place. You have a hamper for your laundry.

Wow. Jenny, I'm a feminist, but you're being hysterical right now. And now you're scaring Henry. You're scaring Henry! It was the first time we'd ever fought, and it left a mark. We didn't speak for the rest of the evening. and we even ended up sleeping on separate sides of the bed instead of on top of each other like normal. I'll apologize in the morning, I thought, and then I drifted off into the shallow sleep of the deeply sorry. But apparently the night wasn't done with us yet.

Because a few hours later, Jenny and I were awoken by an earth-shattering thunderstorm. What's happening? Why is there thunder in February? Then there was a deep, otherworldly, gree. growl that seemed to come from every direction at once. Henry cowered under the bed as every window in the house shattered. Why is there growling in February? Suddenly the front door burst open to reveal a dog so big

you'd swear it was a circus elephant that traded in its hard-earned stash of peanuts for a life-like dog costume. But I knew better. It was the one-headed hound. Oh, Christ. She's here for Henry. The old man was right. Well, she can't have him.

You hear me, monster? Henry's ours now. And all at once, upon seeing the desperate love that Jenny had for Henry, I had a moment of clarity. And without thinking, I stepped in front of the hound and performed the first truly unselfish act of my life. Wait, take me instead. Ken, what are you doing?

Take me, you son of a bitch! I mean, you bitch who had a son! After a moment of icy consideration, the hound appeared to nod her approval at this arrangement. The storm calmed, and I mouthed the words, I love you to Jenny, as the hound picked me up by the scruff of my neck and dragged me off into the unholy night, leaping through leprous forests, wading through poisonous streams and slid. Gailing rotten mountains until we finally arrived at her awful maggotty den. All of this was years ago.

And while I haven't seen Jenny or Henry since, each day I pray that my sacrifice was worth it. I like to think that right now they're out there somewhere living their best lives, maybe playing a wholesome game of fetch in our backyard, or even just kicking back on a giant party boat in the Caribbean. As for me, I know there's no escape. I know that I'm doomed to spend the rest of my days in darkness as the adopted son of a rough beast. But it's actually not so bad once you get used to the taste of hot dog milk.

Thank you, mother! Well, thank goodness we all survived. Our gratitude goes out to the heroic Ken M. The internet's favorite troll for penning another stirring tale for us. Strange how he always seems to show up right around April 1st. Not sure what the connection is. Anyway, now that we're free and clear, I guess there's nothing left to do except start the show. Season 10 is ready to hop along with the Easter Bunny. The stories are prepared, so let's start the journey.

In our first tale, we meet two brothers who have reunited for their grandmother's funeral. But as author Luke Hoan explains, when they get sidetracked by an old abandoned mall, it's the old arcade which captures their attention. Turns out the games aren't the only source of excitement they're in. Performing this tale are Kyle Acres and Peter Lewis. So be thankful you have your consoles and computer games because you no longer have to go to Gambo's Game Room. Derek's rental car pulled into the parking lot of the local dying mall. The engine idled and he turned the radio off. We were parked close to the front entrance and the nearest car was several spaces away.

For the last seven years, I'd only seen my brother once a year. Every Christmas, we would come home to our nannas, and every year we would grow a little bit more apart. I didn't expect to see him again so soon, especially under these circumstances. It was February, and the woman that raised us since I was eight, had joined my parents and Pappy at the family plot.

We were both killing time before we had to face the reality of her death. We should go back to the house. Yeah, we will. That's just... Just what? I don't know. We had some good times here, right? I looked at the skeleton of the childhood stomping ground

that was the lone pine mall. It was true, at a time we did have fun there. Pappy would take us to the movies every summer. Nana would take us back to school shopping in the fall. And when Derek was old enough to drive, he would take me there and their place. He would ditch me at the bookstore the first chance he got so he could meet his friends, but still,

that place had some fun memories. Come on. I sighed and followed. I needed a distraction just as much as him, probably even more. There were still funeral bills to pay, a house to clean, an estate sale to plan,

and a childhood home to part with. I didn't want to think about it, but the gnawing feeling was already there. Just like the weekly check-ins and arranging for Nana's home health aid, I knew these responsibilities would eventually fall back to me. I double-stepped until I caught up to him. Are you sure this is a good idea? Yeah, why wouldn't it be?

Look at this place. As brief as it was, there was a moment of hesitation in his eyes. All of the anchor stores, the big brands of yesteryear, and the end of each wing were boarded up. A smattering of lights filled the emptiness in between. Our town simply wasn't big enough to support something like this anymore. This town didn't need a mall anymore. No one really needed a mall anymore.

Walmart, Amazon, and Netflix replaced all the shopping and entertainment needs you could think of at a fraction of the price and a hell of a lot more convenience. I'm hungry. Let's hit up the food court before we have to stop being a baby and come on. He pushed through the double doors. The glow of fluorescent lights and the smell of spent oil hit our faces. The food court was sparse. There was a pizza place that was limping along, a cheap Chinese food hot bar, and a burger franchise I hadn't seen since I was a kid.

Derek walked towards the Chinese place and I followed. An old woman handed us lukewarm samples of bourbon chicken. We loaded up two plastic plates and filled two cups of cola for less than ten bucks. It wasn't hard to find a free table. We sat down on the wire mesh chairs and I took a bite of my greasy pile of food. I rolled a meat around in my mouth and took a swig to wash it down. The food was sweet, but that was about it. Derek, this is fucking terrible. But look how much of it there is, huh? And when was the last time you had an RC cola? If you wanted Chinese, we could have gotten into that place by

Nana's. Dude, I'll pay. Let's just get out of here. This place is fucking sad. Stop being such a wet blanket. I'm not. We're wasting time. We have to... I know what we have to do. It came out harsher than he meant it, and we both knew it. Look, I'm not good with this type of stuff. Can you fucking humor me? I just want to spend some time with...

I just need a little more time, okay? My brother never really was one to express his emotions. It never occurred to me that this was his way of grieving. Eventually, we both knew we had to say our first. final goodbyes. It was already hard enough with work and the distance we live to stay in touch. Without Nana pushing us together every year, I didn't think about how long it would be before I could see him again. Yeah, sure. I pushed my plate toward him. You can finish this. I'm going to try some of that garbage-looking pizza. Do it up. After we ate, we lingered with the bricks in our stomachs.

We talked about the movies we saw, the boarded-up multiplex, and filled in the gaps in both our memories. The cartoon cowboy squirrel I love so much was actually a mouse. The action comedy he saw on his 13th birthday wasn't with me. We both remembered Nana sneaking in snacks under her sweater. We got up and peeked through the bars. The lobby hadn't changed at all. We kept walking. We saw the video game store where Pappy bought us a Sega

and the candy shop where we bought Nana a Christmas present one year. We followed the chain of Walled Off storefronts until we were deeper into the mall. We ran out of memories. And the silence hung heavy with things unsaid. I tried my best to fill the void. So, now what? Derek shrugged. I figure go to the other end and circle back.

And then what? He shrugged again. Each step forward echoed through the deserted hallways, dying planters and empty fountains. He stopped dead in his tracks and cocked an eyebrow. Hear that? Hear what? That.

I stopped and held my breath. I listened more. closely and the music echoed in my head clear as a bell. No way. Derek bristly walked down the corridor. Wait up. I followed after him and his walk turned into a sprint. He ran ahead of me and rounded a corner.

Yes, this is what I'm talking about. I ran after him out of breath. The hall was basked in neon and large circus-like lettering flashed Gambo's Game Room. It had all sorts of arcade machines. from rows of well-worn skiball machines and pinball to cabinet arcade games from the 80s and 90s to the latest digital touchscreen displays. An animatronic man with a red vest

and a twisted mustache stood motionless in a glass ticket seller's booth. Gambo's game room? Was this place always here? Welcome, my friends. The eyes of the animatronic man glowed to life and its arms creaked around what limited space it had,

stumbling over itself. Its voice was like a recording of an Italian, and stereotype played on stripped vinyl. Jesus. Como's a DJ outdated? I looked closer when the mechanical man wabbled back and forth. Derek elbowed me and tried to read the worn lettering

above its head. Free tokens. The head smacked against the glass. Yes, my friends. Free tokens. It lurched back and a small door popped open in its base. A plastic cup dropped down and a torrent

of tiny brass discs poured out to fill it. Derek grabbed the cup and tried to judge its weight. As soon as he did another cup dropped and even more coins spewed out. I picked up the second cup and the door clamped shut. So, dude, do you want a co-op or what? How is this place even here? Where are the customers? What do you mean?

His excitement tempered slightly. While the game room seemingly had every game imaginable, it didn't have any other customers or employees on the floor. Does it matter? We have tokens. They have games. What's the big deal? I held the cup in my hand. It was heavy. The Calliope music played in the background, behind each machine's whining chime or opening cutscene. I was walking inside and at a machine before I knew it. Derek?

What? His head popped around the corner. Never mind. He shrugged and I put in my first token. The screen came to life. I remembered the game even if I didn't remember walking up to it. It was a side-scroller about a certain team of amphibious adolescents. I played it a ton as a kid with Derek. It was one of the few things I remember bonding over with him. I hit the buttons and the green ninjas marched across the screen.

Their swords clashed and the scores of robot mutants flickered and fell off the screen. It was great. It was fun. I felt like a weight had been lifted off of me. I laughed as my score climbed higher and higher. I reached up to the cup for another token and put it in. I felt like a kid again. Derek, come play with me. My voice squeaked.

Derek? My voice was higher. Derek? I sounded like a child. I backed away from the machine and grabbed my throat. Hands smaller than I was used to clasped a scrawny neck. I bumped into another kid and they shoved me back to my machine. What?

Derek peered around the corner of his game. It was my brother. He was going to start seventh grade soon. And Pappy had dropped us off at the mall so he could celebrate. But that wasn't what happened. That wasn't how we got here. My mind raced. Pappy would never have dropped us off.

Pappy couldn't have dropped us off. He'd been dead for years. The screen went to black and counted down. I looked into the screen and I saw the younger version of myself. My head jerked back and so did my reflection. I hand patted the small of my back and I jumped. Ciao, meo, bambino. Why are you not playing your game?

He was tall, or maybe just adult-sized. His mustache curled from his face and his accent was thick. He pulled a brass coin from his red vest. Let the gamble buy you your next game. I pushed away from him and he scowled. I darted past the rows of other children and ran for Derek. His eyes were glued to his screen. I grabbed him by the arm.

He shrugged me off and I grabbed him again. Derek, we have to get the fuck out of here. His eyes went wide. You said a bad word. Come on, let's go. I pulled him harder when we ran into the crowd. There were rows and rows of games. Mimbinie, where did you go?

Gambo's voice sang like a song. His calls echoed in the distance until they were drowned out by the sound of hundreds of buttons being smashed at the same time. I kept running until Derek finally pulled out of my grip. What the heck, Jake? He shoved me and I fell on my butt. Why can't you just have fun?

This isn't right. I'll tell Pappy, you said a bad word. He'll believe me. He was just as brady as I remembered. My borough furrowed. Derek, where do you think you are? Gimbo's game room, you dink. Pappy dropped us off so we could...

His eyes wandered and thought. He probably dropped us off so we could have fun. Without him? He didn't say anything. at that. We need to get out of here. No, why can't you just have fun? Derek, I... No, I'm tired of you being a wet blanket. I'm tired of dragging you around, and I'm tired of you.

If you want to be a bummer, that's your problem. Don't make it mine. His eyes were watering. I didn't know what to say, and in my silence he stormed off. The racing games and space simulators around me blared techno music and later, laser blasts as I got to my feet. I couldn't leave him here. I didn't even know where here was anymore, but he couldn't have gotten that far. I walked much further than made physical sense. The arcade had seemed big on the outside, but the inside just felt endless. There were rows and rows of children, both boys and girls, at each and every machine. Why did I remember who I was? I couldn't have been the only one. Panic was slowly settling in. Feet stomping on dance pads gave way to gaunt faces staring.

into glowing green screens. The sounds of balls flying into hoops turned into mallets slamming on fake gophers. The deeper inside I went, the older the games became, and the children became something else. Pellet guns pinged in rhythm as tiny metal targets fell to match them. The childlike things firing them were thin, and worn like parchment paper painted over a skeleton. Their clothes were from another time. Their smiles were locked onto their faces, and they moved just as mechanically as the rickety games around them. Jake

I jumped Derek was behind me and out of breath Nana would kill me if I lost track of you He reached from my arm and started to pull me with him I didn't think you'd be such a baby

And run off on me You, you ran off on me He pouted No I didn't Fine, whatever Derek, just stop I tried to pull out of his grip But my tiny muscles wouldn't let me Please, stop

What? He let go. Look around. He turned his head and looked at the old machines. So what? Big deal. This place has everything. No, look.

I grabbed the sides of his face and pointed it at one of the freakish children with a BB gun. Its joints creaked almost as loudly as the machines. Each pellet was fired in rhythm to the next one to it, over and over. Derek grimaced. A look of pain crawled over his face, and he pushed me away. No, this is stupid. It's just an arcade. Come on. I heard music. My heart sank. Me, Bambini. Why do you not like enough fun?

His voice was lower, tired and angry. Fuck. I grabbed Derek's hand and started walking. He didn't fight it. He followed after me back into the maze of machines. The path was no longer straight. The machines curved. But I tried to follow whatever pattern was there, hopefully back to the entrance. Mechanical games were replaced by digital screens. I turned left and was at a dead end. We have to turn around. We have to...

My voice caught in my throat as Gambo turned the corner. The dim lighting flickered over his pear-shaped frame. His lanky arms reached into his pockets and spilled tokens onto the floor. Why don't you play on my games? His smile pinched up into his cheeks, but his eyes stayed glassy and hungry. The clattering of buttons stopped, and the children turned to look at Derek and me. I didn't know what to do. I rushed to Gambo.

His smile dropped instantly, and he grabbed me by my shirt. He pulled me closer to his face, and he scowled. He stunk of old wood and oil. You are such a serious child. Gambo can help you forget your problems. Gambo helps all the children forget the problems. I stared deep into his eyes, and they flickered. images and numbers flashed behind his irises.

The more I looked, the harder it was to look away. The images filled my mind in my field of vision. A world of no responsibility. A world of fun and distraction. All for the price of staying with Gambo. I wanted to forget my problems. I wanted to forget about my shitty job, my disappointing adulthood,

my flake of a brother. I wanted to forget about Nana's death. I even wanted to forget about pappies and my parents' death. It would be so easy. Bravo, ragazzo. The words from his lips were warm and swaddled me like a blanket. I was a good boy. Bravo me.

Something flew above my head and smacked Gambo in the face. His jaw popped out and his throat was filled with a sea of tiny gears. Metal discs fell into Gambo's mouth while others jumped out of a plastic cup and scattered onto the floor. Let go of my brother. Derek grabbed another cup and hurled. at Gambo. A shock caused him to drop me. He clicked his jaw back into place. Why do you waste what Gambo gives you? He momentarily forgot about me and went for Derek, who backed into a corner. The kids of the machines around us played more slowly. Derek tried

to smack Gambo away, but the arcade owner grabbed both of Derek's hands. Gambo's mouth opened and coins vomited out onto my brother. I got to my feet and jumped on Gambo's back. His head tilted back and the coins flew into the air and onto the surrounding machines. His arms reached behind his head and he tried to pry me off. Derek was dazed, but he could still tell what was going on. Move! He yanked a kid from a machine and pulled on the cabinet as hard as his pubescent body could. It missed Gambo, but the screen crashed and shattered onto the floor.

Gambo stopped. The coins stopped. His voice lowered to an almost demonic growl. The adjacent machines flickered and the kids playing them blinked. Their fingers stopped and the looks of joy on their faces washed away. I don't know if they felt hunger or pain or anything while they were hooked into those machines. But I do know they were feeling something now. Rage. Gambo rushed forward to pick up the machine, but it was too late.

The children rushed onto Gambo and they sank their teeth into each arm. Gambo wailed and I was finally shaken off. He pulled one of the children off of his arm, but in doing so fell into another cabinet and child. The box fell and crashed. It tipped the machine next to it and the one after that. With every game that crashed another child, child came to understand the reality of their situation, and every one of them was just as pissed. Come on, Jake, let's go.

Derek grabbed my arm and pulled me up. The children shrieked. A dog pile of emaciated kids clawed at Gambo. His cries started to skip like a record, and the sound of tearing flesh was replaced with the smashing of metal. We ran. I couldn't look back, but ahead of me, things were changing. The arcade started to look familiar, and the music that had lured. us in was becoming slurred and distorted. I could see the machine I had first used, and I could see the children flicker in and out of existence. Where there was a wall of touchscreens one moment,

there was the mall entrance the next. The closer we got, the more I could see the way out. Derek pushed me forward, and we both fell out onto the ceramic tile. I fell hard, and my teeth smacked into my lips. Oh, fuck! I grabbed my throat. My voice was back. My hands were back.

I slapped my face and I was me again. I looked over at Derek. He was back to his old self as well and he was panting. He looked confused. And then he looked at me even more confused. You okay? I licked my teeth and tasted copper. Yeah.

You? Yeah, but why am I so winded? He looked up at the skylight. And why is it dark? I checked my phone and Derek checked his. Jesus fucking Christ, we've been in there for hours. He turned back to the arcade. I just wanted a quick...

I turned and saw what he saw. The arcade was empty. And where there had been lights, there were only dusty outlines of what at one time spelled out, Gambo's Game Room. The mechanical man in the booth was smashed to pieces. Springs and loose wires poked out from behind a torn vest, and its once glowing eyes were now broken bulbs.

What the fuck just happened? You don't remember? He shook his head. Yeah, me neither. The sound of Calliope music still echoed faintly in my head. Let's get the fuck out of here. We quickly walked away from the empty arcade. The mall was closing and everything was dark except for the occasional security light.

We walked past the chained-off food court stalls to the exit, and thankfully the doors opened out, locking behind us. We sat in silence as we drove back to Nana's house. We pulled up to the curb and he put the car in park. The engine idled, but he didn't reach for the keys. Derek looked up at the house and back to me. Look, I took a couple weeks off, so we don't have to do anything tonight or tomorrow even. Yeah. Yeah, okay.

Yeah. He stared out the window and tapped the steering. You know I love you, right? Well, yeah. You're my brother. You know I love you too, right? Yeah. Of course. He turned off the engine.

Hey, do you think Nana kept the Sega? Non-so. Let's find out. When the local weather station reports a big storm on the way, you'd best be smart and act appropriately. Just ask author Jesse Clark. In his tale, we meet a man who experiences a terrible storm, but wind, rain, and lightning are the least of his concerns.

Performing this tale are Mike Delgadoo, Dan Zapula, Addison Peacock, and Jesse Cornett. So when the storm strikes, keep your wits about you and your feet on the ground, and whatever you do, don't have your head in the clouds. The hot air blew up north from the Gulf, when the cold winds swept in south from Canada. And when the two fronts collided over the plains, their battles spilled over into a monstrous rolling storm cloud. about a few miles north of my lot here in the woods. For the better part of an hour as things there unfolded, the buzz of the weather alert was all I could hear on the TV and on the radio. They're saying this cell or if this supercell does indeed produce a funnel cloud.

We'll keep you updated as more information becomes available. And all at once, I could see the black underside of the beast as it moved. And then the trees started to list and sway, the wind rolling up through the grass until it blew dust onto my trousers and into my hair. I whistled. Come on, Shiloh. Inside, boy. Let's go. The dog bounded up the stairs and I shut the door behind the two of us. And then it began to rain, nothing but a drizzle at first.

But then a pounding, howling downpour that fell in sheets and torrents. It turned the dirt to mud and it poured from the gutters. And it swept against the windows like ocean surf. Shiloh, never won for thunderstorms if he could help it. Lay down on the rug and covered his snout with a paw and began to whine. Hang in there, boy. It'll be over soon. I sat down on the recliner and turned on the TV

and petted maps mindedly with my free hand. Of the storm. Well, do you think it'll produce a twister? It's hard to say right now, Debbie. The conditions we think are there, especially here near Fairfield and over here in the, in the Manchester area. You can see on the radar how that's playing out,

so that's certainly a cause for concern that we're keeping a close watch on. Thanks, Kevin. And I'm getting word that there is indeed a tornado watch now in Fort Hutchins and in Charles counties. And of course, you can get a more comprehensive risk of affected areas on our website and at the bottom of the screen. To anyone in the path of this storm, especially in those areas, it is imperative that you're prepared to move to a storm shelter on short notice. If that's impossible, find a low place to hide without windows, if at all possible. place mattresses up against any exposed windows

and do not attempt to drive away from the storm until the watch is expired. I looked out the window. It was hard to see much of anything through the wind and the rain, but it was dark out there for sure. I stood up and walked over to the window to get a better view, but it was so worked over in fog and rainwater that I could hardly see a thing.

Stay put, shallow. I'm just going to take a quick peek out of the door. I cracked it open a bit, and the sound of the storm utterly good. exploded into the house. I could barely hear the dog bark over the sound of the wind and rain and the collapse of thunder, and then a spear of lightning bolted across the sky. To rev up that generator and a bit. I eased the door open a bit and leaned out. Within seconds, I was nearly as soaked as the porch. I had to squint and shield my eyes and wipe my hair off

my forehead when the rain plastered there with weight. Through the trees, I can still see the sunset. The red, orange, and yellow there had hit a hard, fast wall of black and storm. clouds a few miles off, and that cloud only got darker and more violent the closer it got to where I stood. The grass in my fields was nearly flattened with wind, too, and the trees were heaving sideways and billowing their tops to the windfall as the storm through its back to their beating. I creamed my neck upwards. The clouds were moving fast above the house. I could tell that even through the rain. They swirled and bulged and chased their tails And wisps of them scouted the ground and dipped deep and low

I felt Shiloh rush up against my leg Back inside, boy I gently nudged it with the heel of my boot Things are getting worse out here I shut the door and muffled the sound by doing so Shiloh went back to his spot on the rug and picked up his whining where he'd left off I knelt down and scratched him behind his ear It's almost over boy

Storms is bad can't last too long. But the storm didn't let up. It carried on through the afternoon and into the evening and only strengthened as it did. I kept an eye on the TV as I made a casserole. Down near Fairview. And luckily the worst of the storm is holding to the northwest of Kennesaw, which of course is minimizing the damage there. Uh, yeah, that's right, Deb.

But the roads there are just clogged to death and back, with people getting out of the storm's way, and that kind of, that kind of congestion can prove to be very dangerous if things do indeed decide to move in that direction. Well, we certainly hope everyone there gets themselves to safety before that happens. Shiloh had his nose pressed up against the window

as the talking heads conversed. He was almost perfectly still. His tail was tucked. His paws were set wide, and he had one of his ears standing on end. Anything interesting out there, boy. He paid me no heed, so I got up and joined him at the window. The storm had reached a hurricane level of fury.

The rain was flying in sideways now, and bursts of lightning illuminated a number of down trees at the end of the yard. The rest of them continued to bend their spines to the wind. It's one of the power's still on, ain't it? I scratched the back of his head. He continued ignoring me, but when I got up to check on dinner, he barked. Hey, now, no need for that shot on. Come on now. Shiloh.

Shiloh. Shiloh's ears flattened up against his head, and he backed up a little from the window and growled underneath his breath. You see something, boy? I went back over to the window and did my damnedest to peer out of it. But all I could see in here was darkness and wind.

Come on now. The war barking. Inside, boy. It's all coming from, Kevin. It's been churning non-stop for 12 hours now. Emergency crews can't even get out there to do their jobs properly. It's, uh, it's definitely,

lasting longer than anyone predicted. I'll give you that. But it's not unheard of four particularly powerful front collisions to result in longer-lasting super-cell systems like this. We'll just have to see how it plays out. And has the center of the storm moved at all? Bizarrely, it hasn't, Deb. It's remained relatively stationary outside of Kennesaw and Bell South, and it's actually gaining strength in certain areas, too. And of course we're now getting some reports of widespread power outages and property damage in the Riverside area. Here's a video of the 7-Eleven at the intersection of Turner and Route 40. This was turned into us by an anonymous source. You can clearly see some severe structural damage to those gas pumps and a lot of debris floating around the parking lot.

It's not the best angle, but if you look right here, you can see part of the gas station's roof is kind of, kind of hanging off there. Fortunately, we have yet to hear about any injuries or fatalities, but, you know, there's only so much a lot of the older buildings out there can take. Well, unfortunately, that's right that a lot of the houses in the riverside and Port Harbor areas were built decades ago, and in some of the lower-end neighborhoods out there, the architecture is particularly vulnerable to high-speed, prolonged winds like what we're seeing here tonight. Any advice for people who might be trapped in those areas for the duration?

Well, you covered the bases pretty well earlier, I think. But it's worth repeating. Board up your windows or put out mattresses in case the glass shatters. And at all times, have a place in mind to run to if things get particularly bad. Make sure it has no windows. Make sure that it's low to the ground. Bathrooms and basements are good choices to run to in a pinch, and as a last resort, find a ditch or some other low ground to lie in.

And I believe that tornado watch has been extended. Is that right, Kevin? It has, yes. And that's why knowing these safety tips is essential right about now. The watch has been extended to midnight in the Manchester and Fairfield County areas, and it's even been widened in scope to include courtside hills. Shiloh remained vigilant by the window, and I was staying up in the recliner, watching the news with coffee but dozing off here and there. The storm continued to rage outside. Every once in a while I'd open the door to take a peek.

But I stopped once that wind became so violent, I struggled to shut the door against it. I sat there, sipping from a fresh cup of coffee. Shiloh, with his head planted dejectedly on his paws. The dog leapt back into his defensive stance by the window, ears flattened to his head, Hair up on end, teeth bared to the gums. He barked again and then growled. Loudest clap of thunder I think I ever heard. What about you, boy?

I scratched behind the ears, but he was focused on something outside. I followed his gaze to the top of the trees. Just as I did, there was a spectacular flash of red lightning that spilled its glow across the forest. My mouth hung open a bit. The hell? The lightning flashed again, a deep, almost purplish red, thrown out by giant spears of electric power that shot two and fro. Through a small gap in the mist, illuminated by the lightning, I saw nearly to the top of the big storm cloud. It was a colossal monstrosity, obscured by the darkness of its own underside.

A billowing, roiling, titan of a storm cloud lit from within. It must have stretched for miles in every direction. God only knew how high up into the atmosphere it went. I ain't never seen anything like that in my life. I rubbed shallows back. I'm starting to think this ain't any normal storm, old buddy. The flashes of red lightning kept up throughout the night, and every once in a while they'd be joined by Lansing's snaps of blue and purple.

It was a spectacular and breathtaking display, wondrous and otherworldly to behold. But I'd be dishonest if I didn't admit it was also the most terrifying experience of my life. Meanwhile, the rain kept falling in sheets, and the wind had remained at steady low hurricane speeds for some hours now. The front yard was littered with debris and branches and hailstones the size of a fist. The power flickered on and off, too.

I wasn't sure how it stayed on as long as it had. But it wasn't going to hold much longer. It couldn't. I had the TV on while Shiloh and I watched the storm from the window, and I'd glance at it from time to time. The picture flickered and static filled up the screen between shots of the news desk. Lightning or confound you over in Riverview, where... Yeah, this is unlike I've ever seen. This is not an ordinary storm. That cloud above... Lonembus.

Cumulonimbus hypercept is new classification? Well, it's... Yes, and I... The power had finally given in. I whistled and sighed. Just us in here now, boy. I hugged him tight, felt how violently he was shaking. I think I was shaking, too. So for both our sakes, I kissed his head.

I'm glad you're here with me, buddy. That's got to count for something. We turned back to the window to watch the storm. Shiloh? Where are you, boy? I listened for him. A wine or a bark, but it hurt nothing. My heartbeat quickened in pace until it was slamming. Shiloh!

I started digging through the rubble of my home. The destruction the storm had left behind, tossing bricks and shards of glass and chunks of drywall to the side. They started forming a pile behind me. Come on, boy. Don't you do this to me? Don't you do this! I dug and dug and dug until my nails had fallen off,

until the skin of my fingertips peeled back to the bone, and then I dug some more. He was nowhere to be found. My dog, my best friend in the whole world, crushed under the weight of his own home. I couldn't begin to imagine. Shiloh, please, come here, boy. Come on. I need you, Shiloh.

I wasn't Shiloh. There was no way that was Shiloh. I turned around and peered right into the darkness behind me. It was thick, it was black, and it was nigh impenetrable. But it was far from empty. I could feel the wind getting stronger until my hair was flying and my skin began to peel away. I couldn't breathe.

Then there was a flash of that red lightning. And for the split second before it hit, in that light, I saw a tornado of incomprehensible vastness bearing down on me to destroy when it hadn't destroyed the first time. Shut me! I bolted upright and gasped and grabbed at my chest. I was still at home.

covered in sweat, but alive and awake in the darkness. I could still hear the howl of the storm outside. I breathed the sigh of relief, and then Shiloh plodded up and started licking my face. Hey, hey there, boy. Oh, sorry about that, buddy. I scratched him behind his ears. Just a bad dream. I looked at my phone.

Five in the morning. I'd managed to get nearly a full night's sleep in spiked. to everything. You hungry, boy? I got up and used a flashlight to find the dog food bag, and then Shiloh inhaled his breakfast while I looked out the back window. I can't believe it's lasting this long. It was truly incredible.

The rain had abated a bit I could see. Not a lot, but a bit. But the wind still howled, and the sky remained nearly pitch black, dark. Not a sliver of sunlight made it through the can. canopy of cloud cover. But the frequent pulses of that red lightning afforded me enough visibility to appreciate the wreckage of my yard. Trees were leafless and downed. Branches carpeted the grass. And I could even see split roof shingles lying soaked in puddles at the foot of the yard. The insurance company was about to have a hell of a day.

Hey boy, I'm going to run outside and see if I can't turn on that generator. Shiloh ate the last bite of food and turned to me. You stay foot now, okay? He wagged his tail, but when he saw I was moving for the door, he stood up. I threw on my coat. I'll be back in a minute, boy, okay? Generators just outside. Calm down now.

He barked again and again, but I just rolled my eyes and stepped outside. As expected, it took less than a second to get completely and utterly soaked in the downpour. I could feel the moisture through the coat, soaking into my t-shirt, and even my boot struggled to keep my feet dry. But I slogged through the mess and the mud and the debris all the same and slowly advanced up to the generator I threw the tarp packet I turned around Shiloh had thrown himself up against the glass of the window and it descended it to madness He was barking and chewing at the glass and frantically

Desperately trying to get my attention I'd never seen him in such a fit But from what I could tell he wasn't seeking help for himself He was trying to get to me to protect me As soon as I realized this, I heard something in the distance that constituted the single loudest and most bizarre sound I'd ever heard. It wasn't an explosion. In fact, it wasn't especially dissimilar from a whale call or the horn of a ship docking at a harbor. It was a deafening, animalistic sonic blasts that lasted several seconds and carried hard and steady over the thunder. I felt my blood beat washed to a stop, and then I was a deafening, and then I was a deafening, and then I was a sudden.

I turned. I couldn't see much. I saw enough. There was something in the cloud, a formless mass moving east and still well behind the mist. A flash of red lightning shed its glow on what I could now confirm was the cloud-covered form of something moving, something alive, titantic and otherworldly, to a degree I can't adequately put into words. I forgot all about the generator. I dropped the cord. I forgot all about Shiloh, too, who was still barking himself into a fit from inside the house. And for the briefest of moments, I even forgot about the storm. Although I was still being pelted with rain. I was simply basking there in unspeakable, existential awe.

Not a normal storm indeed. Not by a long shot. I stood and watched the beast, whatever it was, move slowly, but with good. race behind the storm. Then I heard a low, rumbling thud that may have been its footstep. The ground shook what it hit, and the giant shadow of the figure faded into the upper clouds. And the storm resumed as before with a spectacular clap of thunder that shocked me back to reality. I looked over at Shiloh. He'd calmed down a bit. He was now looking at me through the glass as if to say, what the hell are we still doing here? He was right.

We couldn't stay here. Of course we couldn't stay here. I didn't know what this storm was, or if it was even a storm to begin with, in the strictest sense of the word. But it had no indication that it was lending up any time soon. I didn't know what that thing was. Let's get the hell out of here.

It took me mere minutes to throw a bag together, clothes, electronics, toiletries, other necessities within grasp of convenience, and to get that and Shilohs situated in the truck. I'd thrown it all in haphazardly, and in my haste, I was positive I've forgotten something, but I didn't care. I just wanted to leave to get as far away from this place as I could before things got worse. I didn't know what was waiting for us out there either.

I didn't know how far the destruction went or how wide-reaching the storm was, or if this was all indeed some kind of apocalyptic-level event. If that was the case, and if we got caught out, in the middle of it, then at least we'd know for sure before we died. It wasn't exactly a comforting thought, I had to admit, but the possibility of escape was, certainly, the house, not like it particularly mattered. And then, after throwing up the hood of my jacket and zipping it to my chin, I grabbed the handle of the garage door and threw it up, letting the wind and rain and hail blast its way inside and soak everything. So violent was the storm that it looked like

We were staring out into a blizzard. The wind-wipped rain was flying in just about every direction, not just down. And in the fray, too, was hail and leaves and sometimes whole branches. All right, boy, you ready? Shiloh looked over at me and didn't whine or bark or make any sound or move with whatsoever. Yeah, my thoughts exactly, bud. I rubbed his head and turned the key. The truck, which luckily had nearly a full tank in its gut,

revved into life. I eased my foot onto the gas and off we went. High beams on, windshield wipers on full blast. The driveway was rough with debris, so the truck bounced and jostled as we made our way towards the wooded path that led out onto the main road. I prayed that that road would be clear. I knew the odds were against us, but I didn't have it in me to think about that right now. I just kept going. Five, ten, fifteen miles per hour through the surf and the storm. in the hail. The trees offered some manner of shelter at least, and spectacularly the road was clear enough to drive through. None of the felt trunks had barricaded the path forward, but I didn't want to wait around for that to happen. So I hit the gas harder and we fell into gear

and shook and rolled all the way down to the Hills Farm Boulevard. I can't believe we got this far, huh, boy? Hang in there, champ. We'll be out of this mess before you know it. I said the words, but I'm not sure if I believed them. We drove north for hours. Occasionally we'd see a tree in the road or a pile of debris or an abandoned car with its blinkers on still flashing through the fog, and we'd navigate accordingly. But by and large the roads were clear,

and I wanted to exploit that fact to its end before the whole damn town and all of nature's wrath came down on top of us. I tried the radio on multiple occasions too, but there was nothing to be heard there but static. I gave up after the third. third attempt. A burst of red lightning streaked across the whole sky at once. Chilo didn't respond, but when the thunder clapped hit, he'd jumped almost entirely off the seat. It's my grip on the wheel until my knuckles were white. Things seemed to be getting worse. I didn't want to admit it to

myself, even in my head, but it was true. Are we going the wrong way? The wipers were overwhelmed with the onslaught of precipitation. So intense was the downpour, in fact, that I was getting dripped on despite having the car sealed up tight. To boot, there was almost complete lack of visibility. I could see maybe 50 yards ahead when the rain parted in the wind, but not an inch more. At its worst, I could see nothing but mist and cloud. I'd reduced my cruising speed to 10 miles per hour to accommodate this. The gas tank sat at a quarter full. It carried on this way for over an hour before Shiloh sat up straight and started whimpering and pawing at the window. I looked out the glass on my side. We were downtown. It's a small, isolated place, so

downtown is about three intersections wide in any direction. But in the shroud of fog and rain, it looked expansive and mysterious. Light poles, without the lights, of course, loomed out of the clouds and hugged gloomily over the road. I could see the storefronts, too. Windows and doors were boarded up on most, but in a few, Carl's Farm is. and the subway among them. The doors were thrown open and the interiors were gutted. Debris and rubble littered the sidewalk, and as it been the case in my yard, the road became rough and uneven as a result. Looks like hell out here, doesn't it, boy? Shiloh kept pawing at the glass, but then he stopped, all of a sudden, and he perked up his ears. I listened to

first time in nearly 26 hours. We began to hear silence. The rain slowed from a torrential downpour to a steady rhythm, then to a drizzle, and then it stopped altogether. The wind, which had brought up an incessant howling since yesterday morning, that abated too, all the way down to the hint of a whisper. Even the clouds began to part and spread and thin out. Before long, the road ahead became clear enough to see without straining and guesswork, although fog still covered nearly everything to a certain. certain degree. I laughed aloud and aggressively rubbed the back of Shiloh's head between the ears. Shit, boy. We made it. Safe it. Heartbeat slammed into rhythm, and Shiloh yelped and whined and yelped some more. That sound had exploded through the air and vibrated the windows. It was orders of magnitude louder than it was when I'd first heard it.

And that meant it was close. Too close. I'd by now slammed on the brakes and was using both hands to cover my ears. fruitless endeavor. I could feel my eardrums rattling my head even after the blast ceased. Shiloh was going berserk next to me. Come on. Calm down now, boy. I could hardly hear my own voice over the ringing in my ears. You're not helping anything by... I felt that more than I heard it. I heard it just fine. I slowly craned my hands over to the left. Car shook and en rattled. I could see pebbles on the ground leaping up in unison at the impact. But it was a leg. A leg that more closely resembled a California redwooding complexion and size, although it dwarfed even that.

The beast was walking across the road and making a spectacle of it. And I could only see the mammoth lower half of its legs as it moved. The rest was still shrouded by mist and fog and cloud. But even that was an awesome and terrible sight to behold. Took a full minute for the titan to cross the road and to carry on its way to the east. Slowly I eased my foot to the pedal and we began to roll forward again. But I never slowed up the rate of my heartbeat. Blast sound drifted away on the wind,

and soon the center of town was behind us and fading deep away into the mist and the rearview made rough for another mile or so. But the storm continued to clear up, and visibility improved. at a slow but steady rate until the view obstruction was negligible. Hey in there, Shiloh. The poor dog was so exhausted and almost lacked the energy to care. We're almost out of here, boy. We're almost free. But then the last of the clouds parted ways, and we saw it. A scene of awesome and spectacular devastation.

The whole of Forston County. What had been a sparsely populated region of wooded wilderness stretching from the Kennesaw-Wilmington on its southern neck to Phillips Creek to the northeast. That nearly ceased to exist. In its place now sat a desolate, gray pit of impossible scope, miles across and miles deep, reaching down into the earth like an excavation site, or an industrial mine dug up to unearth something of utterly mammoth size. There were no living trees or grass or running water,

or any signs of wildlife here, just endless gray rock and stone, spiraling down deep, and then back up and then stretching off into the distance, until it ran up against another wall of fog and storm clouds 10 or 12 miles down. God Almighty boy, I leaned down to view the scene from his side of the glass as we scrolled by. Doing so brought the sky into view. But you look at that. Above the pit, spilling its ruby scarlet light out over the landscape below it, sat the swirling red center of the storm. The relative calmness of the air beneath it hinted its purpose was not particularly unlike a hurricane's eye, and yet it was so thoroughly covered up with clouds it plotted out the sky entirely. Red lightning cracked and snapped in increasing frequency and intensity the closer up to the center things got. and at that center sat a swirling, blood-red vortex from which everything appeared to emanate and spread.

Beneath it and from it were multitudes of titans too, flying up and out of the pit and into that vortex and disappearing forever. Shiloh whimpered and whined. Maybe they've been down there all along, and maybe that thing there's their way back home. The sea was finally obscured again by wisps of light fog. And before we knew it, we were back again in the thick of the storm, the portal's presence had kicked up. Our atmosphere's white blood cell reaction to something mammoth and alien in its mist. We drove again for hours, through the wind and hail and sheets of rain and past other titans moving home, but we made it through in good order. The storm finally stopped somewhere north of the Tawny River and the town there of the same name,

where we filled up our tank and got a room for the night. The storm raged for three more days there, nonstop and at full fury for the duration. And then, in the blink of an eye, it was over. The June storm that devastated a previously unknown town in the center of the state is finally beginning to clear, according to authorities from the Weather Service. And emergency crews are finally freed to move in to the already lightly populated region in force to look for survivors and restore power. But their job won't be easy.

Nothing like this. Look here. Do you see that? It looks a bit like a giant footprint. We think in the storm ripped up trees and threw them every which way and then blew dirt back into the holes, leaving nothing but a dip like that behind. We've seen tons of these usually in line for miles. Maybe a tornado did it.

And a running... ...their. ...sard scenes like this are indeed everywhere in the effect of the... in the affected areas. No doubt a humbling and mysterious testament to the sheer fury Mother Nature can deliver. Coming up after the break,

with... I switched the radio off. A bunch of idiots, huh, boy? Shiloh didn't respond. He was asleep still, and I confirmed it under my breath. A bunch of idiots. We pulled up to the driveway

about an hour later, and then we started the long, brutal process of recovering and rebuilding, which is still not complete. But none of that matters in the end. I've got a bed to sleep in, and I've got Shiloh with me too. I think the two of us will be just fine. The worst part, after all, isn't the devastation. It's what amounts to a cover-up.

Now, I'm not sure what this storm was, and I couldn't tell you if it was the first of its kind or just the latest in a long chain of poorly reported incidents of similar quality and magnitude. But I do know enough to dismiss the official explanation that the Kennesaw-Wilmington Hypercell, as it's now known, was just a freak weather phenomenon that can be easily enough dismissed as a strange little footnote of interest of few outside the relevant fields of study.

Luckily, for the powers that be too, the affected area is among the least known, most sparsely populated regions in the United States, and what other witnesses there might have been have likely been displaced or killed. But between myself and Shiloh, there are at least two sets of eyes here who've seen the reality.

So I'm getting the word out. And then I'm going to get to the bottom of this. It's time to rest on our dark journey. We thank you for joining us. If you would like to find out how you can hear the full-length versions of our audio program, Please visit the no sleeppodcast.com to learn about our season past program. 25 episodes, each over two hours long, and three exclusive bonus episodes all for only 1999.

On behalf of everyone at the No Sleep Podcast, we thank you for listening. Join us again next week when the journey resumes its descent into the sleepless night. This audio production is copyright 2017, 28. by Creative Reason Media, Inc. All rights reserved. The copyrights for each story are held by the respective authors. No duplication or reproduction

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