The NoSleep Podcast - NoSleep Podcast S12E12

Episode Date: March 3, 2019

It's episode 12 of Season 12. On this week's show we have tales about the strange encounters we can have with friends, enemies, and technology. "Bo"† written by M.J. Pack and performed by Kristen DiMercurio. (Story starts around 00:05:10) "Recalculating"† written by Sarah Rodden and performed by Addison Peacock & Erika Sanderson & Nichole Goodnight & Nikolle Doolin. (Story starts around 00:18:20) "The Patient in Room 251"‡ written by Mariel DeVries and performed by Jessica McEvoy & Nikolle Doolin & Jeff Clement. (Story starts around 00:37:45) "Fresh Meat"† written by Jessie Turk and performed by Atticus Jackson & Nichole Goodnight & Kyle Akers & Addison Peacock. (Story starts around 00:58:50) "Impressions of Death"¤ written by Marcus Damanda and performed by Graham Rowat & Nikolle Doolin & Dan Zappulla & Jessica McEvoy & Jesse Cornett. (Story starts around 01:34:00) Click here to learn more about the voice actors on The NoSleep Podcast   Click here to learn more about Kristen DiMercurio   Click here to learn more about M.J. Pack   Click here to learn more about Jessie Turk   Click here to learn more about Marcus Damanda   Executive Producer & Host: David Cummings Musical score composed by: Brandon Boone Audio adaptations produced by: Phil Michalski† & Jeff Clement‡ & Jesse Cornett¤ "Recalculating" illustration courtesy of Mark Pelham Audio program ©2018-2019 - 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

Olivia White, in discovering what happens if you find yourself stalked by commas. Performing this tale. Come in. David, I need your help. I need some tips on protecting my home, keeping it safe from unwanted visitors. Oh, really? How convenient. Okay, listen, here's something interesting.

Security systems deter burglars. We know this. But there's still a burglary every eight seconds in America. You know why? No. Well, it's obvious. A security system might deter them from one house, but do you think it puts them off a life of crime? Probably not. Exactly. They just move on to the next house, one that doesn't have a security system. In this case, your house. But... That's why securing your home is a necessity. So, let me recommend this brilliant security system built by my friends at Simplysafe.

Simplicef believes that fear has no place in a place like home, unless you're listening to our podcast, of course. So they made their system super smart. SimpleSafe's sensors will protect every access point in your home, doors, windows, garage, vents, you name it. If a burglar dares to attempt to break in, then an ear-splitting siren will let them know the police are on their way. It goes like this. Or something. Best of all, SimpliSafe's 24-7 monitoring is just $14.99 a month. And they'll never lock you into a long-term contract.

You know, more than 3 million people already know it feels good to fear less with SimpliSafe, so they can relax and continue getting scared in the enjoyable way. You know, by us. So, a security system, huh? Can't believe I didn't think of that. This is so much simpler than the ideas I had. Yep, that's what you need. So go with the only home security I trust.

SimplySafe by going to Simplysafe.com slash no sleep. Go today and get free shipping and a 60-day money back. guarantee. That's simplysafe.com slash no sleep for the home security I trust. S-I-M-P-L-I-S-A-F-E dot com slash no sleep. Hey, what ideas did you have? Oh, burning sage, holy water, maybe an exorcism or two. Wait, these unwanted visitors, are they burglars? Ghosts. Remember my house was built on a curse cemetery? Oh yeah. Maybe go with Burning Sage then, but for regular security, simply saves your best bet. Great. Oh, just one other thing. I think the ghosts have followed me to work.

There, see? It's effective. Okay, now, back to work. The No Sleep Podcasts take 53. Tonight, we take a journey into darkness as the souls of the damned and people living in Phoenix. Welcome to our sleepless sanctuary. You enter at your own risk and choose to be entertained with dark and disturbing horror stories. You have been warned. For the dark hours when you tell us of horror to frighten and disturb. Join us as the sleepless hours tick. Brace yourself for the no-sleep.

podcast welcome to the no sleep podcast sanctuary I'm David Cummings our service this week features tales about the strange encounters we can have with friends enemies and technology it's my pleasure to introduce a guest voice actor joining us this week another very talented actor I had the pleasure of meeting and sharing a panel with at Podcon Kristen DiMukurio is a native of Western Maryland who went to Emerson College for their BFA musical theater program. In the audio world, Kristen is most well known for voicing the role of Dr. Sally Grissom on the sci-fi podcast, Ars Paradoxica.

Welcome, Kristen. We're grateful you're sharing your voice and talent with us. And since Kristen joins us in the first story, I think it's time for our service to begin. Bow your heads and hear our words. In our first tale, we meet a woman who needs some money. You know what it's like when you're young and broke? Any job can seem like an appealing prospect. And as we learn from author M.J. Pack, the woman finds a rather strange ad for a babysitter.

Babysitting doesn't seem too difficult, right? Performing this tale with me is Kristen DiMaccurio. So don't worry. Babysitting is usually fine unless you've been put in charge. of Bo. Listen, I've told the cops my story three times now. You can keep asking, but I'll keep saying the same thing. I know what I saw.

I'm not crazy. They were advertising for a babysitter on Craigslist. The post read, Wanted, Babysitter, one night only. Parents need a date night desperately. $50. Must like games. Well, I needed cash. And I like kids.

I like games, too. I figured it would be easy money for just one night, so I responded. Back and forth, the typical shit. We're so happy you answered. When do you want me to come over? Here's our address. All that stuff was pretty straightforward. Nothing really jumped out at me.

I should have realized they never mentioned who I'd be babysitting, right? So I pull up to the house and it's a real shithole. One of those that's in an okay neighborhood and probably looked fine a long time ago, but it got really gross. And now their neighbors are pissed because in between their all-right houses is a total dump, but no one says anything about it. And they had real weird decorations, too. Next to the mailbox, there were these little bird things with stone eggs for bodies and old metal limbs sticking out.

Pointy, like, rusted beakheads bobbing on weird springs at, like, real weird. I knock on the door because they didn't have a doorbell. Right away, it opened, like someone was waiting for me. First off, the guy was old, like way, way older than I'd expected. I mean, the ad read like a couple with a baby who hadn't been out in forever, and this guy couldn't have been a day under 70. Kind of stooped over, bald, skin sort of hanging off his face like it does with some old guys. His nose was all red, like burst capillaries, most likely from too many years in the bottle.

You're here, oh, come in, come in. He waved me in with gnarled, liver-spotted hand. The inside of the house wasn't any better than the outside, by the way. Probably worse. They had that gritty brown carpet that, like, might have been orange at some point. Low yellow lighting. It stank. As I entered, I spotted an obese woman on one of those fuzzy couches from the 80s

with sepia-tinted farm scenes on them, sagging under her weight. She was younger than the guy, but still older than unexpected, easily in her 40s. She wore a flowered house dress and eye shadow that reminded me of electric blue Kool-Aid. Hi, she didn't say anything. Oh, we're so glad you made it. So glad, so glad. We really need this night out, don't we, dear? She didn't say anything. I'm at the right house.

I didn't want to offend them, but needing to be sure and also kind of hoping he'd say no. Yes, yes. You're Danielle, right? The one I've been emailing with? Oh, you're doing us a big favor. You know that? A big favor indeed. I looked around. I didn't see a kid. Where's your... I drifted off, suddenly realizing they never said much about their kid. Anything. Really? Bo. Bo, he's in his room, in the basement. This might be a very easy job for you, in fact. Sometimes he stays down there all night.

He'll only come upstairs if he wants to play. He was dottering over to the closet. As he spoke, he pulled out a pair of shoes and started slipping them on. And like she'd been given some sort of cue, the woman heaved herself off the couch with a muted grunt, and shuffled towards a beaten-up pair of keds next to the TV. He stays down there all night? I glanced around the place, feeling like the whole thing was happening very fast.

Shouldn't I check on him? No, no need. He'll come get you if he wants you. The old guy put on a weathered brown coat and a hat that reminded me of those old movies with Humphrey Bogart. The woman trundled up to me and stared. I wasn't sure what to do until I realized I was standing in front of the coat rack. I quickly moved out of the way, and she pulled off a black raincoat roughly the size of a parachute.

The old guy patted his pockets, checking for his belongings. Okay, all right. Yeah, very good, very good, yes. He paused and gave me a look, like he wanted to say something else. Then he smiled. You seem like a nice girl, Danielle. I'm sure Bo will like you very much. Thanks?

I was thoroughly confused, so would I be meeting Bo or not? I decided not to ask. At the time, weird as it was, I just thought it'd be an easy 50 bucks to sit on somebody's filthy couch and watch TV. Well, we're off. He extended his arm to the woman in a gentlemanly way. She took it, her mouth drawn down. down at the corners. You have yourself a lovely night.

We won't be too long. And just like that, they were gone. Just me, the couch with the farm scenes, and Bo. Just off the living room, there was a door that led to what I assumed was the basement. Bow's room. It was closed. I remember standing there for a few minutes, like not quite sure what to do. It felt weird to be babysitting and not check on the kid or even meet the kid,

but that's what the old guy said. Don't check on him. He'll come get me if he wants. So I sat on the fuzzy couch in the deep dip left behind by the woman and turned on the TV. They didn't have cable. Typical. I watched the news for a while, which I haven't done him forever. Jesus, there is some depressing shit going on in the world, isn't there?

Then found some reruns of scrubs. which I don't really like, but it was better than nothing. It was around 8.30. I grabbed the remote and muted the TV. Bo? Nothing. I got up and walked towards the door, which was definitely open now.

I looked down the stairs, but it was dark, and I couldn't see anything. Bo, I'm your babysitter, Danielle. I felt kind of stupid, like I was talking to no one. Maybe this whole thing was a prank, and there wasn't even a beau. Then who opened the door? I remembered the ad,

Must like games. Maybe this was a game. The old guy had said Beau would only come upstairs if he wanted to play, after all. Bo? Do you like games? Your dad said you might like to play. Yeah, I know.

I'm that dumb chick in a horror movie you scream at because she's doing exactly what she shouldn't. But you don't get it. I thought there was a kid down there. I started down the stairs feeling for a light switch or something. I could see there was a light down there somewhere, but it was pretty faint. Okay, Bo, I'm coming down.

I knew something was wrong, only a few steps down. The wall I was feeling along felt rough, cool to the touch, like stone. But not normal concrete, like actual rocks. Bo, can you turn on some lights for me? It didn't sound like a kid. I turned and started back up the stairs, suddenly very sure I didn't want to go down there and play games with Bow. But before I could get back to the living room, the door slammed shut in my face. What the fuck?

I turned the handle and moved it, but the door didn't budge. I banged on it with both fists. Sorry, Danielle. I could hear the old guy on the other side. I was pretty sure the woman was leaning against the door. I was hoping he wouldn't give you any trouble tonight, but I guess he wants to play. Let me the fuck out of here! I kept trying to get out, but it was no use.

She had that thing wedged shut, no dice. Sorry, sorry, you seem like a nice girl, but Bo wants what he wants. I turned around, eyes scanning what I could see in the low light. At the bottom of the stairs, the floor was paved with big, uneven, Some of them had moss at the edges. A pile of something gleamed at the corner in a flickering glow. It looked like bones. I was trapped if I stayed on the stairs, so in a moment of pure adrenaline, I bolted.

I had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew if I stayed on the steps I was done for. Once I could see the basement, I knew I was fucked. Here's the part where you guys stopped believing me. It was a dungeon, like a legit dungeon, stone walls, spider webs, chains, all that shit. What little light there was came from flickering metal torches. Frantic, I started looking for a way out, windows, doors, anything. Something clattered on the floor nearby. A broken human skull grinned up at me with shattered teeth.

Further into the basement, where it was too dark to see very clearly, a shape slithered from one archstone doorway to another. Look, I know you want me to tell you how long I was down there, but I don't know. I ran like a rat in a cage through endless hallways, trying to find a way out, but only really hiding until I heard Bo get closer. It could have been hours, it could have been days, it felt like forever. I finally saw my chance when the door at the top of the stairs creaked. open.

Game over, Bo! I used what little energy I had left and bolted up those stairs, pushing over the old guy as I ran past him. He fell and yelled, and I think maybe there was a crack of bone breaking, but I didn't care. I ran as fast as I could into the street, and I didn't stop until my legs fell out from under me. I was out of the neighborhood by then, and some guy jogging stopped when he saw me.

He dialed 911, and now I'm here. That's it. That's the story. And yeah, I know you went to the address I provided. There was no one in the house. I know you said it was just a normal house with a normal basement, and no one had lived there for six months because the real estate market isn't doing so hot,

but I know what I saw. That old guy, that woman, the dungeon, and just a glimpse of bow, just barely. Big, muscled arms, black robes, and a head that looked like a snake. I'm glad it was only a glimpse because I think if I looked for too long, I'd have gone crazy.

And do you know what? I think the only reason I'm still here. Honestly, the only reason I'm sitting here talking to you right now is because Bo likes to play with his food. We've all been there, driving somewhere with no idea where you're going. Fortunately, we can usually access a GPS. But as author Sarah Rodden shares, a woman who relied a little too much on her GPS shows us that technology can have a sinister side. Performing this tale are Addison Peacock, Erica Sanderson, Nicole Goodnight, and Nicole Doolin.

So if you find yourself taking wrong turn after wrong turn, maybe your GPS should start recalculating. Recalculating. I hit my steering wheel and let out a groan of frustration as my GPS once again searched for the proper path to lead me down. Come on, what the hell? I was driving back to school after a spring break spent at home, and for some reason I had the bright idea to choose the faster route available my GPS had told me about. Now I was driving down a country road with cornfields on both sides of me and not another car in sight. recalculating

recalculating I took a deep breath gripping my steering wheel harder and trying to calm myself down in moments like this it was easy for me to get too worked up and I knew that wouldn't get me less lost

the small arrow that represented me on the GPS screen was spinning around and I groaned again in frustration I took a deep breath and grabbed my phone using speed dial to call my roommate Jules never answered her phone the first time. She sucked at having a phone altogether, really.

I let the first call go through to her voicemail before dialing again and waiting patiently. Hey, so... I'm lost. I don't know. My GPS said there was a way to save 10 minutes, but then it started freaking out. It keeps recalculating,

and I'll drive two blocks one way, and then it recalculates again, and then again, and I'm going to throw it out the window. I took a deep breath and looked around me, trying to determine the best place to pull over. Okay, yeah, I'll try that. There was a small gravel area up the road aways to the right side of the pavement

where I imagined police would lie in wait for unsuspecting teens racing down the dark country roads at night. I pulled over, threw my car into park, and sighed. I put the phone on speaker and went into Julia's contact. Okay, hang on. Okay, yeah, just try and drop the phone and send it to me. Jules?

Jules, hello? I took the phone off speaker and pressed it against my ear. Jackie? The line went dead, and a message popped up, accompanied by a beep, alerting me to the loss of my cell service. I let out a groan of frustration, throwing my phone down on the passenger seat and hitting my steering wheel again. The small arrow on my GPS that represented me

spun around one last time and stopped dead. The line that stretched out in front of it on the screen lit up blue, and I gasped in anticipation. Proceed to the route. All right, listen up. You gotta stop being such an ass and get me home already, all right? I'll stop cussing at you if you start doing your job. I close my eyes, trying to let all the negative energy out of my body and calm myself before getting back on the road. I followed the blue line on the map and let out a sigh of relief when it didn't start to

once again recalculate. In one mile, turn left. A stop sign was approaching, and I rolled to a halt. There were no other cars around, so I sat there for a moment and took in the unfamiliar surroundings to try and shake the feeling of uneasiness I had in my stomach. Turn left. I flicked on my turn signal and directed my car onto what was now a dirt road.

My GPS seemed happy with the way we were. going. Continue for 3.5 miles. I settled against the back of my seat, relaxing a little bit. This was the first time it hadn't recalculated after 30 seconds at driving. My shoulder muscles loosened, and I actually let myself flip on the CD player in my car. I sang along softly to show tunes, glancing down at my GPS screen every now and then to ensure that it was still working.

When I reached the end of the 3.5 miles, it instructed me to turn right, and I drove between two cornfields for another two miles. Then I came to a small tunnel. It was one of those industrial tunnels made of solid concrete where people definitely came to shoot up at night, and where you wouldn't want to be caught dead as a woman when the sun went down. The flat, dingy concrete that stretched out on either side of the tunnel opening was covered in spray paint. And as I approached, I involuntarily slowed my car until I was sitting completely still about 10 yards back from the tunnel. There was something that made me uneasy about the path that my GPS was leading me down. The tunnel must have taken a turn somewhere because I couldn't quite see what was on the other side.

Proceed on the route. I turned down my show tunes and tried to rid myself of the feeling in my chest. I looked at the graffiti that adorned the concrete, and I saw faint markings above the mouth of the tunnel that I tried to make out, letting my car roll forward a few feet. All I could see were the vague etchings of unfamiliar figures, hidden in places by spray paint. I shook my head to clear it before taking a deep breath and pressing on the gas.

My car moved forward into the tunnel. It was dark. It seemed like the minute the tail end of my car entered the tunnel, I was swallowed by complete darkness. I hesitated for a moment, the car barely rolling forward until my automatic lights flicked on. The inside of the tunnel was bizarrely devoid of graffiti, but about 50 feet in the walls had giant cracks running down them.

There were gouges, as though someone had used a scythe and scraped it, it down the concrete. The foreboding feeling in my chest was growing stronger, and I anxiously checked my gas gauge to make sure I wasn't in danger of running out. I still had half a tank, which made me feel better, if only slightly. The display screen on the stereo blinked. I felt my forehead scrunch, and I tapped the screen. There was no reason for a CD to be affected by the environment, in a tunnel or not. I turned to the screen. I turned to the world. the stereo off and on, and when it came back on, the music played just fine again. I cleared my

throat, trying to ignore the ever-growing anxiety. When I saw the small circle of light up ahead, I pressed on the gas, watching my speed go from 35 to nearly 50 to get out of the tunnel as quickly as possible. My reliable little compact emerged from the tunnel and into a suddenly gray day. It looked like I was driving through a remote rural town. but there was little to no evidence of human activity. To my left was an extensive, empty field of yellowed grass. Up to the right-hand side, there was a small gas station with a singular pump that looked like it may have never been used.

Shoebox-sized houses lined each side of the road. A couple of the houses had bikes leaning against their sides. Each house, however, almost seemed to have never been lived in, or at least not lived in for several decades. Rain drops started to splash my windshield, big, fat, heavy drops. Continue, 500 feet. I came to a stop at a stop sign and looked around. There wasn't a single car in sight.

Not in a driveway, not parked on the street. There wasn't a car anywhere. The anxiety in my chest spiked, and I turned onto the street my GPS indicated. At the end of the road, there was a large, looming structure that looked like it might be a school building. In 400 feet, arrive at your destination. My throat tightened, and I stopped my car just before the parking lot. There, 20 feet from my car, was a small huddled. figure. When it moved, I saw a glimpse of pigtails, and I realized that it was a little girl.

For a brief moment, my anxiety dissipated, and the deep-down maternal instinct that I was pretty sure every woman had kicked in. I quickly got out of my car, leaving my door open and the engine running. The rain was slowing down, and through the soft drops, I heard soft sobbing. I pulled the cardigan I was wearing closer around me and walked. slowly towards the little girl. Sweetie, are you okay? I stopped two yards back from her to make sure I didn't startle her. A small girl in the rain crying was clearly in a lot of trouble,

and I wanted to make sure that she knew I was safe. She wore what appeared to be a school uniform, a white polo shirt that was wet from the rain, and a pleaded black skirt. Sweetheart, where are your parents? Do you need help? I felt my stomach tightened slightly, the anxiety of before returning. But it fought with my instincts to help this small girl.

Cautiously, I closed the gap between us and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. Honey, let me take you home. I can help. My words caught in my throat as she... No, it turned to look at me. The thing didn't have a face. There were flesh-colored, empty eye sockets, and no nose. Its mouth was too big, filled with needle-like rows of teeth.

What should have been lips were nothing more than ragged flaps of flesh that oozed something black and tar-like. I stumbled back several steps, nearly falling, but managing to keep my feet underneath me. The thing's maw opened, its jaw stretching further than should ever be possible for anything human or otherwise. I watched in horror, frozen to the spot as its jaw unhinged and a horrifying, guttural scream filled the air. The scream was deep, but high-pitched at the same time. The noise sent waves of nausea over me. It was unlike anything, anything I had ever.

heard. It was worse than sounds from my worst nightmares, a sound that should never exist in our world. It drew a disgusting, phleg-filled breath and screamed again. Underneath me, the earth shuddered, and the side of the building up ahead exploded. From within emerged a creature like something out of the darkest, most disturbing mythology I'd ever read. Its arms were gone. It's and ragged strips of flesh hung from exposed bone, ending in huge claws. I now knew what made those giant gouges in the cement of the tunnel. It didn't have eyes, but somehow it knew where I was and angled its huge skeletal body toward me.

It had too many angles and joints, and the whole thing oozed the same black goo that came from the girl-like creature's mouth. It felt like things were moving. in slow motion. But then, everything snapped into sharp, clear focus. I turned and ran back to my car. The big creature was as tall

as the school building, and it started skittering toward me. It's movements like a cross between a lizard and a spider. It screeched in the same way that the girl creature had, but louder. So much louder. It was deafening.

Before I go, I got into my car, my body betrayed me, and I heaved onto the pavement. Bile burned my nose, and my throat was raw. But I wasted no time as I dragged myself into the car. I threw my car into reverse and shot backwards toward the main road. My tire screeched as I whipped around back towards the tunnel. I slammed the gear shift into drive and stomped on the gas, the pedal hitting the floor. I heard the scream of the creature again, and I tried to hold it.

hold back vomit as my brain rattled in my skull. My eyes flicked to my rearview mirror. The creature was too close. It was flinging itself down the road, destroying houses as it went. It felt like the tunnel was farther away than it had been when I entered this horrible place. Now, as I flew down the street,

it wasn't empty anymore. From the houses that weren't destroyed yet, emerged creatures like the girl, I had first seen. They were various sizes, all of them with the same horrible mouths and eyeless sockets. I turned in my seat to see the creature's claws scrape my trunk in the back window. Come on, come on. With one last ditch effort, I pulled my foot back and slammed the gas pedal.

My little car shuddered, but the speedometer needle finally reached the 120 mark. The tunnel was in sight. I felt myself explode into tears as I sobbed and screamed and beat the steering wheel. I looked back into the rearview mirror and saw its bony, dripping arm reach out and make contact with my car once again. I saw my speedometer dropping, fast. No, no, no! I turned the wheel violently to one side, and, with the most horrible shriek from the creature, I freed my car from its grasp.

It didn't even faze me. My car flew into the tunnel and my headlights flipped on. I couldn't see behind me, but I could hear the thing continuing after me. The scrapes on the wall were getting less and less deep as I went, and suddenly the sides of the tunnel were smooth again, nearly cracked with age. My car burst out of the tunnel. I kept driving.

I drove until my car ran out of gas, and then I got out of my car and I ran until I couldn't wrong. anymore. I woke up in the back of an ambulance. My skin was cracked from sunburn. My throat was dry from dehydration. The paramedics were poking and prodding me, and I passed out again. The next time I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. Julia was asleep in the chair in the corner, and my parents were coming back into the room. When she saw I was awake, my mom rushed to the side of my bed. She grabbed my hand and kissed my knuckles and the backs of my hands and my cheeks and my forehead. Her eyes were filling with tears. Oh, sweet Lord, Jackie, oh my God, baby. Oh, thank God.

My dad came to the other side of the bed, kissing the top of my head and putting a hand on my mom's shoulder. You really had us scared, kiddo. What happened? I knew what had happened in that town. I remembered it all. I had been having nightmares about it the entire time I was unconscious, trapped in a never-ending loop of shrieking creatures and brain-rattling pain. You didn't make you back to school. Julia called the police. Someone from a nearby town drove by you and thankfully called 911.

Since Julie had called, they had a record of the report and called me and your father. Sweetie, what happened? They found your car. He trailed off, and I knew it was because whatever he was going to say next would sound crazy out loud, just as my story would. I was saved from answering when the doctor came in. I had suffered from exposure. They told me they didn't know how long I was outside before I was found, but I was severely sunburned and totally dehydrated. My mom and dad finally left to get dinner, and Julia had to get back to school.

I was in the hospital for three days, and when they let me out, I went home with my parents. I haven't driven my car since, unable to stomach the idea of going anywhere that would require any guidance other than my own familiarity and memory. At night, I can still hear the shrieks of that creature. I can hear my GPS and my dreams saying it over and over again. Recalculating. Recalculating. Recalculating.

Recalculating. Recalculating. They say that volunteer work is good for the soul, helping out others, lending an ear, all without expecting a reward. But as author, Mariel DeVries explains, a woman volunteering at a hospital is looking after a new patient, and soon hears them share a decidedly disturbing story.

Performing this tale are Jessica McAvoy, Nicole Doolin, and Jeff Clement. So help out when you can, but don't get too close to the patient in room 251. I volunteer at a hospital in Bakersfield, California. As a college student planning to go to med school, I thought it would be a good way to get some early experience and also get me out of the campus bubble for a while. I really love being a volunteer. The nursing unit I was assigned to is a step down from the ICU, which means that the patients are

stable but still in need of near constant monitoring. Most of them are from assisted living facilities, wizened old men with heart conditions and grandmas with infected bed source. For the most part, they're easy patients with sweet temperaments. Occasionally, a patient can become belligerent, but the nurses will usually calm them down. At the beginning of my shift, I check in with Nancy, the unit's coordinator and my supervisor. Nancy is somewhere in her mid-50s, with a mass of curly hair that she wears tied up in a half bun. She has a habit of trailing off in the middle of her sentences

and likes to wear scrubs with Disney characters on them. We typically chat for a minute, and then, unless you need something, she sends me to shadow one of the nurses. Most of my duties involve answering phones, discharging patients, and sitting beside their beds, when their nurses are busy. This last task is the one I do the most often, and the one I used to like the most.

It's pretty much a given that anyone in the hospital would rather not be there. Most people would like to be somewhere other than lying in a hospital bed, watching the sunlight filter in through the window and listening to the beep of the machines. The unit where I volunteer is no exception. When a patient has dementia and is constantly trying to leave their bed, This creates a problem for the nurses who are trying to juggle a dozen responsibilities at one time.

That's where I come in. My job is to babysit them and make sure they stay in bed. I've learned to be patient and creative. I've also heard my fair share of stories, which is why I liked this task so much. I probably couldn't piece together what's true and what's just fanciful ramblings, but the stories were fascinating all the same. I'd sit beside old ladies as they recounted the adventures of their youth, occasionally asking a prompting question or offering a comment.

When I walked into the unit two weeks ago, I noticed that it was a bit busier than usual. Nancy waved me over and informed me that I would be sitting with the patient in room 251. I checked in with Francisco, the nurse assigned to the room, who told me with a grin and eye-rolling exasperation that the patient in 251 kept trying to get up. She's insisting that she needs to go swimming. She's a little confused.

I gave her something to help her relax, but if you wouldn't mind sitting with her, it would be so helpful. You got it. She has the right idea, though. I wouldn't mind going for a swim right now. It has to be 98 degrees today. Francisco mouthed, thank you, as I headed to the room.

The woman propped up on the hospital bed was younger than I was expecting. She looked like she was only in her late 50s or early 60s. Her hair was thick, cut to chin length, and just beginning to gray. She looked tired and pallid, but strongly built, like she had worked for years under a relentless sun. She peered at me through wire-rimmed glasses as I stepped in front of her bed. Hi, ma'am.

My name is Kate. I'm a volunteer here. How are you today? Well, I guess I could be worse. Do you mind if I sit with you for a little while? She remained still for a long moment, and then bobbed her head stiffly in a sense. As with many other patients I had seen, she seemed to have a delayed reaction to the comings and goings of the world around her, probably due to the medications she was on.

I dragged a chair to her bedside. After a moment, she turned to look at me. What did you say your name was? Kate, ma'am. And yours? Uh, Laura. Laura Davis. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

After chatting for several minutes, I gathered that Laura was a lot more cognizant than the other patients I had sat with before. She had no trouble hearing and held up her end of the conversation just fine. She was also amiable, making me wonder why Francisco had a problem with her. I also wondered why she had been brought to the hospital

in the first place. Laura told me that she lived on her own farm just outside of Bakersfield, where she grew pears and rented her barn out for weddings. She owned a couple of horses, some dogs, a few chickens, and a pet pot-belly pig named Mandy that she had apparently saved from slaughter.

It all sounded completely plausible, and Laura definitely looked like she lived the farm life. As Laura talked, she would go through sudden bouts of fidgeting. Her hands would twist, the top of her hospital gown and her feet would stretch out, then cross over each other. Just when it seemed like she might spring out of bed, she would settle into a new position and then remained completely motionless for minutes until another cascade of fidgeting began.

It put me on edge at first because I worried she would try to get up, but eventually I realized that it was probably just a funny habit of hers. I asked her what life was like on the farm, and she told me readily. Everything about her story seemed normal until she started talking about one of her dogs. Bailey was a good dog, really. She didn't deserve to go out the way she did. I'm sorry.

I'd said goodbye to a few dogs when I was a kid, and it wasn't easy, so I could understand the sadness in Laura's voice. She was a fine dog. She liked to get into things. that was what got her into trouble. She was a retriever, so it was in her blood to fetch things and bring them back to me. I'll never forget when she was a puppy and got a hold of one of the chickens.

I was heading out to see what all the ruckus was about, and here comes Bailey, a dead chicken flopping out of her mouth and her tail waving like a triumphant flag. She put it right at my feet and looked at me as if expecting some sort of pride. You could tell she was proud of herself. I made sure she knew that sort of behavior was not going to be accepted on my farm. After that, she knew better than to fetch any of my chickens. But she still brought some dead animals to my doorstep, rats mostly. A few weeks ago, I caught her in the process of dragging a possum from a puddle of muck.

Probably another gift for me. I hollered at her and she scampered off, leaving it there in the puddle. It had been dead for at least a day. There was blood seeping out of its mouth into the muddy water, and one of its eyes was ruptured. I couldn't tell if Bailey had done it from shaking the poor creature around, or if it had been that way before. Other than a few bite marks, courtesy of Bailey, I couldn't. tell how the possum had died. The puddle it was lying and was filthy with flies, and as I watched, I saw a long, thread-like shape slither through the water. It was too skinny for a snake,

but I'd never seen any worms that long before on the farm. It gave me the heby-jeebies, so I got rid of the possum and tried to put the whole thing out of my mind. A couple weeks later, I know noticed that Bailey was acting a bit lethargic. She would sit motionless for hours, just staring out into the orchard or the house. I was breeding her with a stud from another farm, and it was about the time when she was pretty far along, so I brushed off her weird behavior to that. I'd promised my granddaughter Lily that she could come see the puppies as soon as they were born, so when Bailey finally made it clear that she was ready, I called up my son Ross and they drove up. I had set up a makeshift delivery room in the barn and brought Bailey in. She was acting strange again, squirming one second and hanging

limply in my arms the next. It was her first time having puppies, so I guessed that she was just a little nervous. I set her down in the hay and went to get a bucket of water and some towels to clean up the pups when they came out. Ross had arrived with Lily by then. She's only six. She could barely contain herself, flying around the yard and singing, the puppies are on their way. Laura chuckled, but her expression was full of anxious grief. Her hands quenely. Her hands quivered as she pushed her hair behind her ears. Underneath the covers, one leg kicked out as if she was fending off an invisible monster lurking at the end of the bed. When she settled back into her unnatural stillness, she continued her story.

I was heading back to the barn with the bucket and towels when I heard Lily shouting, No, Bailey, you're supposed to lie down. I rushed in and saw Lily pulling Bailey back by the collar. Bailey was straining fiercely and dragging Lily towards the water trough that the horses drank from. I went over and set Bailey back on the hay. This time tying her up with a rope, saying, Take it easy now, Bailey, girl. I can get you some water if you're thirsty.

Stay put and don't strain now. Bailey was panting heavily. I told Lily to pet the poor thing while I laid everything out. so we would be ready when the time came. It didn't take long. I've delivered a number of baby animals during my life, from baby dogs to baby cows, and I know when something is off.

I don't know if you've ever seen a dog give birth, but when the first thing to come out is a lot of blood, something is wrong. Instead of a puppy, it looked like her insides were falling out. Bailey started whining real. pitifully, and this mess of red gelatinous flesh was spilling out onto the hay. In it were tiny bones. Coiled around them was a large white worm writhing in the light. Lily was screaming while I squatted there, trying to figure out how best to deal with the situation. Luckily, Ross swooped in and pulled Lily

out of the barn before she saw any more. Bailey kept on panting and pushing out more of that horrible red gore, along with over a dozen more worms. They were impossibly long and tied themselves into knots as they slid through the blood-soaked hay. Eventually there was nothing left to come out, and Bailey tried to get to her feet. She started gagging.

pulling against the rope. Blood was coming from her mouth, adding to the mess on the barn floor. I was trying to make her lie back down when I saw that another of those horrible worms was thrashing its way across her tongue. Bailey collapsed, choking, and then went deathly still.

I sat there for a few minutes trying to collect myself and figure out the hell had happened. It was only when one of the worms touched my boot that I jumped up and got the hell out of that barn. I washed my hands and went back up to the house. Ross was in there trying to calm Lily down. I could tell from his face that he'd never seen anything like that before either. When I went back to the barn a few hours later to clean everything up, Bailey was gone.

Ross and I searched for her until the sun went down, but didn't find anything except for a trail of blood that led into the grass by the pond near the orchard. He and Lily stayed the night. We all slept badly. I kept thinking of the tangled mass of writhing worms, barely wider than string, and longer than I was tall.

Lily went down to the pond the next morning while I did the morning chores she likes to catch the minnows I was feeding the horses when I heard her shrieking bloody murder Ross and I ran over and found Lily standing stone still over the floating bloated corpse of Bailey

she must have dragged herself to the water and drowned Lily was traumatized. Ross took her right home after that. I was left to fish the body out. I saw several of those pale ribbons darting under the pond's surface when I did. That was just three weeks ago. I hadn't realized that I'd been holding my breath until Francisco entered the room and startled me.

How are we doing in here? Fine. I'm just going to go get Laura some water. Be right back. Laura's story had rattled me, and I tried to refocus as I filled a pitcher with ice water in the staff lounge. I'd listen to patients tell stories that were sad or bizarre, but never this gruesome. The idea of going back into Laura's room and listening to Moore was the last thing I wanted to do. I could just tell Francisco that I needed to help another nurse.

No. If you can't handle a patient with a bit of an overactive imagination, then how are you ever going to be a doctor? So I swallowed the lump in my throat and slowly walked back. Laura smiled when I came in with what almost looked like relief. I wondered if she had confided this story to anyone else besides me. Francisco finished checking her vitals and stood back up to face me. I've got another patient to check up on. You ladies okay with some more alone time? Yeah.

Yeah, we should be fine. You go ahead. I didn't want to ask any more questions, so I just sat beside her in silence for several minutes after Francisco had left the room. Eventually, she stirred and looked over at me. I noticed that her eyes were bloodshot, and there was just a hint of red in her nostrils,

like she recently had a nose blade. She continued like I'd never left, like nothing had interrupted her story at all. After Lily and Ross left, I cleaned everything up as best I could and tried to go back to business as usual. I just couldn't get those worms out of my mind, though. Just last week, I found one of my horses

standing like a statue out by the fence, breathing like he'd just ran eight miles. Every day it seemed like there was another dead rat or raccoon floating in the pond. Every time I fished them out, I would see dozens of those pale worms. The water was teeming with them. That's when I got scared. I think there's some sort of parasite. I called up Ross to ask how Lily was doing.

I could hear her crying in the background. Ross told me that she had been getting headaches, and sometimes she wouldn't get out of bed for the entire day. He'd been busy rushing to her doctor's appointments and staying home from work to take care of her. He hung up on me and before I could offer to come over. I don't blame him for being upset. He has so much on his plate already.

Still, I'm worried about it. Lily. Laura took off her glasses and rubbed her bloodshot eyes. Can I get you anything? She shook her head. One of the kitchen staff came in then to bring Laura's dinner tray. Once she left, Laura eagerly pulled off the lid. She began shoveling the food into her mouth without stopping for breath.

I watched her warily until she finished. Water. Oh, of course. Let me get that for you. I was about to grab the pitcher when Laura's hand brushed past mine and snatched it away. Before I knew what was happening,

she had ripped off the pitcher's lid and tipped it toward her lips. She pressed it to her face so that the water covered her nose and splashed down her neck. I reached out to pull it away from her, but froze when she began screaming. The last of the water gushed onto her face and she tossed it aside.

Still screaming, one of her eyes was bleeding, as were her nose and ears. As I watched, something white and thread-like began to emerge from the inner corner of her eye, followed by a stream of blood that dripped down her cheek like tears. The worm broke blindly at the air. trying to free itself from the fleshy cocoon that was Laura's body. Even as it squirmed, I could see another dangling from her nostril. The gurgling tone of her scream told me that countless more were making their way up her throat. I backed against the wall as the nurses rushed in,

alarmed by the frantic screams and the beeping of Laura's heart monitor. They held her still as she continued to spasm on the bed, choking and bleeding. Somehow I left the room and found my way back to the staff lounge. I don't know how long it was before Nancy found me there. She got me a glass of water and held my free hand while I drank. After a few minutes, she patted me on the arm and told me to go home early. I nodded and thanked her. As I walked towards the elevators, I could see the nurses pushing Laura's bed towards the emergency ward.

I could hear her gurgling. whales. Mercifully, the elevator doors closed and the sound stopped. I drove back to campus and shut myself in my dorm room. Then I started researching. For the past several weeks, I have followed the news and scoured the web for more information. Here's what I've learned. There is a type of parasite called the horsehair worm. It lays its eggs in water. The eggs hatch and are eventually eaten by insects. The larvae grow inside of their host, absorbing its nutrients. They can even hijack the insect's nervous system,

secreting neurotransmitters that keep their hosts still to conserve energy and give it the urge to take a swim. The insect will go to the nearest body of water and jump in, regardless of its ability to swim. As it flounders in the water, the worm emerges through a hole that it boars in the insect's exoskeleton. Sometimes the insect survives. Most drown and are dragged behind the worm as it thrashes its way to freedom.

There are no accounts of this parasite living in any mammal, let alone a human. I still volunteer at the hospital, keeping my eyes and ears on alert in case another patient or doctor might be able to give me another clue. While I haven't found any more information about the parasite itself, I have discovered that there has been a recent growth in water-related deaths, not just in Kern County, but across the country. People of all ages found floating in lakes, pools, and even oceans. What they all have in common is that they didn't just drown. I read one article which stated that a 15-year-old boy had driven to the lake, and waded straight into the water until he was submerged.

His body floated up half an hour later. His eyes were tattered ruins, as if something had ruptured them, and there were several holes in his abdomen. The medical examiner was baffled by the wounds, stating that they looked like they were made by something inside, trying to get out. As our service concludes, we send you,

with our blessings. 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. Over 60 hours of content for only 1999. On behalf of everyone at the No Sleep Podcast, we thank you for listening to. Listening. Join us again next week in our sleepless sanctuary. This audio production is copyright 2018-2019 by Creative Reason Media, Inc. All blessed 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.