The NoSleep Podcast - NoSleep Podcast S13E07

Episode Date: August 4, 2019

It's episode 07 of Season 13. On this week's show we have tales about the warnings which foretell the terror.   "Second to Last Stop" written by Evan Dicken (Story starts around 00:03:30) Produced by: Phil Michalski Cast: Narrator – Graham Rowat , Tourist Father – Mike DelGaudio, Spring Break Boy – Matthew Bradford, Spring Break Girl – Jessica McEvoy, Stranded Woman – Nikolle Doolin, Stranded Man – Dan Zappulla, Teenage Girl – Nichole Goodnight "My Childhood Friend, The Haze Beast" written by E. Blackburn (Story starts around 00:22:50) Produced by: Phil Michalski TRIGGER WARNING! Cast: Talia – Nichole Goodnight, Hazy – David Ault, Dakota – Elie Hirschman, Dad – David Cummings "Secret Beach" written by Mark Towse (Story starts around 00:58:30) Produced by: Phil Michalski TRIGGER WARNING! Cast: Narrator – David Ault, Rose –Erika Sanderson "Vendetta" written by Wren Feeney (Story starts around 01:16:15) Produced by: Jeff Clement Cast: Tess – Erin Lillis, Rachele – Jessica McEvoy, Apartment girl – Addison Peacock, Suspect – Jeff Clement, Cop – David Cummings "Hurry. Come over." written by C.P. Riggs (Story starts around 01:46:00) Produced by: Jesse Cornett Cast: Clyde – Dan Zappulla, Tommy – Jesse Cornett, Voice – Jessica McEvoy, Fat cop – Graham Rowat, Thin cop – Mike DelGaudio, Detective Cooper – Elie Hirschman Click here to learn more about the voice actors on The NoSleep Podcast   Click here to learn more about NoSleep Live: 2019 Halloween Tour   Click here to learn more about Mark Towse   Executive Producer & Host: David Cummings Musical score composed by: Brandon Boone "Secret Beach" illustration courtesy of Abby Howard 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

Not close our eyes. Brace yourself for the No Sleep Podcast. Welcome to the No Sleep Podcast video store. I'm David Cummings. Our VCR is ready to play stories about the warnings which foretell the terror. As season 13 rolls along, we have, I can't remember what I wanted to mention. Oh, I have something to share with everyone, and I can't seem to recall. It is but one night out of the year, and yet it is a night of such dark power and fear that a single night cannot contain it.

This October, the No Sleep podcast celebrates the spirit of Halloween with their 2019 Halloween live tour, featuring 18 shows starting in Seattle on September 27th, and throughout that, Halloween month of October, including stops in places like Toronto, Canada, the birthplace of the No Sleep podcast. In Estes Park, Colorado, at the Stanley Hotel, the haunted hotel where Stephen King was inspired to write The Shining. And the tour will conclude at the legendary L. Ray Theater in Los Angeles on Halloween night.

Join David Cummings, Jessica McAvoy, David Alt, and Nicole Goodnight on stage with a live score performed by Brandon Boone. With special guests joining us at many of the venues. Tickets will be going on sale starting on Monday, August 5th. So go to the no sleeppodcast.com slash tour for a list of dates, venues, and links to tickets. Make your plans now to join the No Sleep podcast live on their 2019 Halloween live tour. I really should start writing these things down. Oh, well.

Since I can't think of anything to announce, let's start the show. So turn down the lights and grab the remote because it's time for our feature presentation. In our first tale, we meet a man with a strange job. You see, it's his lot in life to serve as the final omen before a series of sinister and dangerous locations. In this tale, shared with us by author Evan Dickin, we learn it's a dirty job, but someone's got to do it. Performing this tale are Graham Rowett, Mike Delgado, Matthew Bradford, Jessica McAvoy, Nicole Doolin, Dan Zapula, and Nicole Goodnight. So pack up the essentials, plan out the rude and get going, but make sure you pause to hear the foreshadowing when you reach the second to last stop.

I woke up in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, the morning sun leaking into my room through the slowly rotating blades of an old wall. I was younger than yesterday. It was a small matter to dirty up the windows of the old shop and scatter some rusty car parts out front. The inside took more work, and it was well afternoon before I had the place properly outfitted. Much of what I do depends on ambiance. It's so very important that the transition be seamless.

I finished long before my first customers arrived, so I treated myself to some strips of beef turkey and another chapter of the Harlequin Roman. I was working through. The heroine, Cassandra, had just rescued her fiancé from the clutches of their mutual ex-lover. I dragged the old rocker onto the porch and sat down to wait. They came just on time. The family pulled up to the pumps in a new RV, only slightly worse the wear for rattling

over miles of backcountry roads. I could tell they were city folk, the kind of people whose idea of roughing it was going without internet for a few days. My yellow-toothed grin was mostly for show. I didn't begrudge them their lives, not one bit. Their exit from the vehicle seemed almost rehearsed. Two young boys charged from the back door as soon as the RV ground to a halt. Hours of pent-up energy expelled in a burst of incoherent chatter.

Their parents came next. Him in a green button-down shirt and double-stitched outdoorsman pants. Her in white shorts and a flower-print blouse. They were arguing about directions, the man only just now conceding that they were lost. The teen daughter slunk from the side door, jeans and a ripped sweatshirt hanging loose on her skinny frame. She pulled out her phone and stared at it, the slump of her shoulders reminding me of a hostage who'd given up all hope of escape. I sought her gaze. Locking eyes, I spat a long brown stream of tobacco juice under the cracked wood of the porch.

She grimaced and climbed back into the RV. Smart girl. She might even make it through the night. Yeah, excuse me. I'm looking for Route 64. We turned off at 219 like three hours ago, and out of the roads back here seemed to be on the map. Getting some scenery!

The man shot a nervous glance at his wife. She was on the other side of the lot. One kid in each hand. No help there. Where are you headed? We got reservations. at Pine Ridge Campgrounds, just outside of Lewisburg. You got yourselves turned around.

That map ain't gonna do you much good in these parts. I jabbed at it with a gnarled finger. The man seemed to deflate at my prodding. Oh, damn. Well, do you happen to know how to get back to Route 64? I sat back, breath whistling through the gap in my teeth. In truth, I had no idea where Route 64 was. But it didn't matter.

that's not where they were going anyway. I relaxed and let the words pour out of me. The man nodded, not really listening. Finally, the meandering course of my directions ran into a road he recognized. Ah, great. I think I can take it from there. He brightened, relief plain in his watery blue eyes. I tipped my hat, but he'd already turned to call for his wife. She heard of the children back into the RV, and they pulled away in a cloud of

dust, spinning wheels, pelting the roadside foliage with a rain of gravel. I watched them go. They would never reach their campsite. The family of cannibals who lived up the road would see to that. They didn't exist, of course. The cannibals, not where these people were from anyway. But a few miles down the road, well, anything was possible. By the time I stashed the old rocker and picked up the car parts, the wet, earthy smells of the backwoods,

had been replaced by the salty tang of Mexican hard pan. I didn't mind, since it meant I could keep the windows dirty. The only real work was to restock the shelves with Spanish language magazines and candy. I was very thorough. It would be embarrassing to have the next group stumble across a map of scenic West Virginia wedged between the racks of Pachiclita and Bubulubu. The sound of barking alerted me to their arrival. I had a dog now.

I smoothed back my hair and stepped behind the counter. They came in a few seconds later. A half-dozen college students, tanned from days spent on warm coastal beaches. I looked up from the counter, my expression blank. The biggest one, probably the first to die, waved and smiled. I shook my head, working to keep my face slack. The others spread through the store in couples.

I heard them marveling at how different it was from the mini-marts back home. If only they knew. The big one's smile was wide as he approached the counter, a mousy-looking blonde in glasses in his wake. We're looking for a lake. Lago Diamante. It's supposed to be near here. Est, uh, qui?

I pointed down the road in the direction they were traveling. Si, Cinco kilometers. My eyes flick to the blonde. who was staring at one of the other boys, this one with darker hair and a brooding, troubled look. Her gaze shifted to the redhead on his arm, and the ghost of a frown wrinkled the skin between her eyes. Ah, young love. The big one followed my gaze, and his smile slipped for a moment. I licked my lips to unnerve him.

Ambience. Let's get the hell out of here. We should have stayed at the resort. The blonde shivered despite the heat, wilting under my scrutiny. It was like a standing ovation. Stop freaking out. The guy said there were hardly ever any other tourists there. You wanted to see the real Mexico, right?

I know. It's just that I've got this bad feeling. She was right, of course. The creature that slumbered beneath the Lago Diamante awoke to feed for only a few days every century. scientists would probably term it a holdover from Cretaceous, but it wasn't. Not really. The Earth it called home was a dark place where winter lasted decades and summers withered on the vine. I've never been there myself, but I'd seen it in movies.

Well, when I still watched movies. I don't anymore. I just can't stand that they never get it right. Nightclub vampires, backwoods weirwolves, zombies and axe murderers living. cheek to jowl with humanity? Maybe once, but not now. I've never been able to manage the suspension of disbelief required to swallow that conceit. After all, I was there.

Well, nearby, at least. They get that right, at least. I think that on some visceral level, people recognize you can't step into the pit without having somewhere, someone, to bridge the gap. It can be anything or anyone. A decrepit gas station, crumbling county store, a block of boarded up tenement buildings, an old blind man on a creaky rocker, something to show that here is no longer there. I'm everywhere, if you just know where to look. It's flattering, really.

My unseen dog barked as the tourists left. The deep, snarly ruckus cut off in mid-bellow as I went somewhere else. It was early evening now, the air, chill and crisp, with just a hint of a winter storm rolling in. I only had a few hours to clean up for my next guests. The car parts came out of storage to be polished and placed in the garage with an assortment of tools and empty oil cans. The Mexican suites were replaced with a few boxes of good old American candy bars and a few out-of-date sports illustrated magazines. A marked-up calendar of covered bridges completed the. look, and I settled back for a couple more strips of jerky and another chapter of my novel.

It was getting good. Cassandra had just revealed to her fiancé that while he was imprisoned, she had fallen in love with his twin brother. Nonfiction usually isn't my thing, but sometimes I like to indulge. I must have dozed off, because the first I heard of my next customers was a knock on the window. I dropped the novel behind the counter and opened the door, a gust of icy autumn wind, almost tearing it from my grip. There was a couple outside, muffled against the cold by layers of sweaters and scarves. I ushered them in, their expressions almost pathetically grateful.

Oh, thanks. Our car broke down about five miles up the road. I thought we weren't going to make it. The man unwound his scarf, revealing cheeks chapped with windburn. He had a kind face, but then again, so did I. It's a poor night to be out in the cold, With the Nor' Easter like to be four or five feet of snow on the ground by the mora. I should get you two in the town before it really starts coming down.

What about our car? The woman looked skeptical about my prediction. I smiled at her, letting my rough-spun charm do the convincing. The roads won't be clear to mid-morning, at least. Looks like you're stuck here for the night. If you want, I can call ahead into town. Sharon's likely to have room in the hotel. It'd be an off-season and all.

The man glanced at the name on my coveralls. Hey, thanks, Chad. Hey, if it's not too much trouble, is there anywhere along the way we could get something to eat? Yeah, there's a diner right next to the hotel. There's sausage in the county. They spent a moment in the type of hushed conversation that only people who have been together for years can master

where a half-finished sentence or a slight widening of the eyes can speak volumes. I watched them with a smile, thinking maybe one day I'd leave all this. and find a girl I could talk with like that. Someone as much unlike Cassandra as possible. I had too many twin brothers to risk a girl like her. The woman turned back to me. Thank you so much.

Can you give us a ride? Yeah, all part of the job. I listened to their story on the way into town, nodding at all the appropriate points and talking just enough to continue the conversation comfortably. The man thanked me again when I dropped them off outside the diner. It's nothing.

Just don't forget to try the sausage. Laughing, they went inside to enjoy what might be their last meal. During the off-season, the people of this town got a bit strange. Travelers had been known to go missing. The rusted wrecks of their cars not discovered until the spring thaw. There's a lot of woods out here, especially with a fresh carpet of snow, turning the forest into a maze of featureless drifts. If someone were to get lost in condition,

like that, their body might never be found. The same might be said if they were dragged into the forest as a sacrificial offering. There was a time when the trees selected the victims, but people got tired of giving up their own and took matters into their own hands. I didn't even bother picking up the couple's car. When I got back, I was in West Virginia again. It was late, the sky dark, save for a thin sliver of moon, peeking from a blanket of heavy clouds. There wasn't much time, so I tossed around a few handfuls of dirt and kicked the car parts back into the yard. I stepped back inside, just as someone crashed through the bushes around back. I grabbed my flashlight and shotgun before heading out onto the porch.

She'd need them later. Her breathing came in the soft, shuddering gasps of someone trying to be quiet after having run a long distance. My flashlight beam stabbed into the darkness, reflecting from the tear tracks that cut twin paths. down her grime-covered face. Come out or I shoot! I played the beam across the bushes, even though I knew where she was. The girl broke cover like a startled bird. I could practically feel the desperate terror pouring off her.

Oh, God, Mr. of my parents, they ate them. They've got my brothers. Her eyes shone with tears, but she didn't break down. This girl had spunk, just like Cassette. I stepped down from the porch. What the hell are you talking about? Bear got your folks?

No, not bears. It was people. I shook my head as I moved closer to her. Now just relax. We'll go inside and get you something to drink. They're right behind me. Don't fear none. I've lived in these hills my whole life.

There ain't nothing to worry about. I gaped as a rusty sawblade burst through my chest. Blood welled from the wound, and I fell forward to reveal the grinning madman behind me. The girl bolted for the house. I heard the two of them crashing around inside for a few minutes and hoped they didn't break the place up too bad. Things got quiet soon enough. Heavy footsteps moved through the shop, searching. I turned my head to watch.

Being dead was no reason to miss the show. The back door eased open, and the girl crept out. hands over her mouth to stifle the noise of her breathing. One of the boards creaked as she moved from the porch onto the grass. Her fingers pressed into my neck as she bent down, checking for a pulse. Bless her. I was quite dead, so she slipped the shotgun from my nerveless grasp. Glass shattered, and she spun to unload a wild shot into the back of my shop.

The cannibal was fast, leaping from the porch with his machete raised. The girl fired the second barrel, the force of the buckshot spinning the madman in the air. One of his boots clipped my ribs as he tumbled over me to crash into the brush beyond. To the girl's credit, she kicked his machete away before moving in to see if he was dead. When he reared up, all bloody and shrieking, he was only able to grab her sweatshirt. Her gunstock cracked across the cannibal's face as he struggled to stand. She hit him twice more before he tore the shot. gun from her hands and tossed it into the brush. He pushed her away, and she sprawled onto her

back. I could almost hear the music swelling as he advanced on her, his face a pulpy, grinning mess. The girl crawled backwards, the only sound of her soft gasps and the crunch of the cannibal's boots on dry grass. She stopped, her fingers brushing up against something laying amidst the trampled foliage. I felt like a proud father as the girl lunged to her. As the girl lunged to her feet, teeth-beared, the cannibal's machete gleaming in her hands. Screaming, she hacked into his neck. Blood and founted as his body slumped to the ground. His head rolled twice before fetching up against a tree, its expression almost bemused. The girl stood for a moment. Blade held in front of her, ready for the headless murderer to rise again. When he didn't, she bent to retrieve my flashlight from

the grass. She walked out of my face. field of vision that I could hear her inside the shop looking for my keys. I stood up, pulled the sawblade from my chest, and nipped over to slit the throat of the cannibal hiding in the truck bed. It's against the rules, but what can I say? I'm a sucker for Spunk. I barely got his body into the brush before my pickup roared to life, headlamps straping the trees in twisting shadows. I couldn't help but grin as she pulled out on the road and back toward the cannibal's cabin. They still had her brothers, after all.

I knew she could do it. This girl was something special. My Cassandra. I walked out onto the dirt road to watch the tail lamps disappear around the bend. I had a feeling she'd be back someday. Older, harder, her life shaped by the echoes of this night. I wondered if she'd recognize me for what I was, and if I'd have the courage to say something,

even if she did. A fluttery lightness filled my chest, prickling my arms and scalp with nervous energy. I sighed. That was for another day. For now, I had work to do. The sounds of the sputtering motor faded into the distance. My shop was a mess.

Furniture and racks upended. Bullet and machete holes in the walls. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep before I got the place fixed up. Tomorrow was always. coming and in my line of work, everything's in the details. Still, it would have gone faster with another pair of hands. Sibling rivalry can be stressful when you're a child. If you're the younger sibling of an elder brother, it can lead to bullying and torment. In situations like that,

what you need is an ally. And in this tale, shared with us by author E. Blackburn, that's exactly what one little girl finds after her brother goes to. far. Performing this tale are Nicole Goodnight, David Alt, and Ellie Hirschman. So grab hold of your nightlights and stay safe, because we're about to meet my childhood friend, the Hayes Beast. My second worst memory is my brother holding me underwater. We were playing in the above-ground pool in our backyard when he dared me to hold my breath while under for as long as I could. When I said I didn't want to, he held me under until I beat my tiny fist. against him. I can still feel the chill of the water in his rough, hard hands gripping my shoulders as I

kicked. I can still feel the sandy bottom of the pool as my feet scuffed on the rubbery floor if I think hard enough about it. My brother, Dakota, was not a nice person. He never was a nice person. He tried to weasel his way out of getting in trouble after our dad yanked him off me, then pulled me out of the pool. Dakota lost TV privileges for the week for that stunt and got threatened with military school for what had to be the fifth time that summer. That was a shitty way to end our vacation days. My absolute worst memory began that night, and it spanned about a week.

My bedtime was earlier than my brother, so I was in bed, curled up under my aerial blanket when he came in. I could never shake his cold blue stare when I'd kept him from getting his way. I should have been used to that look, but I never was. You're why mom died.

My seashell light cast deep orange shadows in my room, but Dakota seemed dark no matter where he was. She saw how ugly you are, so she died. No-uh. Dad told me that my mom died so I could live, and I'd see her in heaven someday. Dad trumped Dakota every time. Dakota glared at me and padded across my rug.

His gaze lingered for a minute before he spoke. You took my TV. He ripped the seashell nightlight out of the world, wall. I take your stupid nightlight. No! That light was what kept monsters away. I'll give it back if you tell Dad you wanted me to hold you under. Dakota held the light in one hand. I said nothing, staring in terror at my big brother.

Have fun getting eaten, retard. Alone in the dark, I felt fear. The shadows grew in sharpness, in darkness, and here I was trapped under my comforter like a soft, fluffy prison. tears welled up in my eyes at the thought of every monster imagined creeping from under the bed, from the closet, even from behind the dresser. Then I heard a voice. What's wrong, little one? Carefully, I pulled the comforter down a little to look for the source of the voice.

The curtains ruffled by my window. The thin fabric settled on top of something I couldn't quite see. The shape was funny, and it looked like a living thing made up of heat waves, like the ones on the road when it's hot outside. It slipped in through my closed bedroom window, just slipped through the glass, like water or a bead curtain. Broad, clawed handprints pressed into the carpet to my bed. Hello? Hello.

A patch of carpet swished under an enormous, invisible tail. I am the haze beast. Eat me? He snorted and shook himself like a dog. The curtains ruffled against him. I heard his ears slapping against the. side of his head. Oh, why?

I would never. I don't eat sweet little girls like you. You can call me hazy, if you like. I could hear him approach, see his hands and feet leave large, four-fingered prints on my carpet. Who was that boy that took your light? Dakota.

I inched out from my blankets. The haze beast's tail thumped once, twice against the carpeted floor. The same boy in the pool. I remember my eyes going wide, sitting up in my tiny bed. You know about that? Know about it. I saw it happen.

Warm breath chuffed my arm. He left a large, long dent in my aerial comforter as he rested his head on my bed. I could kind of see him now. He still looked like heat waves rising off the road, but shaped like a long, long, bony dragon. I'm sorry I couldn't help you. Grownups can get scared if they see me.

Five-year-old me reached out and carefully stroked his muzzle. He didn't seem to mind. It's okay. Daddy came and got me. Good. Your daddy is a good man. He's the best daddy. He got me that nightlight.

Ah, really? Tell me about your nightlight. I could hear the smile in his voice. I kept on petting him. His skin felt like an old leather couch, soft and worn out. I told Hasey all about how Dad had gotten the lamp on vacation to the beach. The story went that he'd met with King Triton himself and told him about my bad dreams and the monsters in my room.

The seashell nightlight was a gift from King Triton, and the light in the shell would keep monsters away. But my light is gone, so the monsters will get me. I won't let that happen. Hazie's long, bulky form walked away and turned itself on my rug. The blue shag flattened under his weight. I'll stay right here until morning. No monster will get past me.

Really? Really. Good night. The flattened mass of carpet grew as Hazy stretched out. Hmm. What is your name, little one? I forgot to. to ask. Talia. What a wonderful name.

Well, then, good night, Talia. Good night, Haysie. I slept through the night and awoke the next morning to find Hazy was gone. Dad made chocolate chip pancakes with scrambled eggs for breakfast and told me he was going to drain the pool that afternoon. Dakota had returned my nightlight while I was eating. I was grateful, even though he'd broken it at the base. It was an easy fix for Daddy, though. It was back to keeping monsters at bay that night.

Hazy, however, came back to see me again that very evening. With a ruffle of curtains, Hasey's clear form melted into my room via the window, four broad paws and a tail print showing up in the carpet one by one. Hello, Talia. I thought he was only a strange dream, but his return to my bedroom cemented how real he was. I beamed and crawled to the end of my bed to see him better, a hard feat seeing that he was nearer invisible.

You came back? I promised to protect you for monsters, didn't I? His form stretched out on my rug, tail wagging at the tip only slightly. I see your light is back. How about I tell you a story? I snuggled into my bed, ready for the tail, only a dragon could tell. Gently, Hazy told me stories in his soft, British voice. At least I think it was British.

It may have been Irish, but I don't know for sure. His tales of swimming with sea monsters and dancing with demons made me stare at his vague form in awe. I fell asleep, safe and sound, with my friendly dragon not far away. Dakota wasn't a demon, but he had his moments. It wasn't long after the pool incident two or three days after, that Dakota acted up again. While I was excited about starting school, Dakota was not.

He didn't want to go to middle school or anything. any school at all. He was always in those classes for the kids that need extra attention. When we went back to school shopping, I was over the moon. I couldn't wait to get everything I needed for my new classes. Dakota's sultz nearby as I looked for everything I could find that was even loosely based on the Little Mermaid. This is retarded. Dakota, don't use that word. My dad gave him a stern frown. It's retarded. I fucking hate school. Dakota! My dad grabbed him by the arm before dragging him out of earshot of me.

I just kept looking for a backpack I liked. Dakota and my dad continued to argue. Again, the term military school was mentioned. Dakota's punishment was the most boring supplies dad could find. Nothing but black and gray. Even when dad eased up a little and let Dakota choose his own backpack, he pitched a fit and wound up with a black pack. I got, of course, a little mermaid backpack,

along with a 21 pack of crayons. That night in my bed I showed Hazy everything with pure glee. See, it's like my bed. I held up my backpack to the wavy form of my friend. He had slowly become more visible as days went by. You know the first Predator movie where the Predator is invisible but can kind of be seen? Hasey was at that point of visibility.

I see. It's lovely, Talia. So, you go to Scream. tomorrow. Yeah, I'm going to be in real school, not just kindergarten. That's wonderful. That's a big step towards being a grown-up. Are you a grown-up? Well, I am quite old.

Did you ever go to school? He was silent, front legs crossed at the foot of my bed. He tapped a claw on my bed frame. Not how you know it. I went to school with many children. When the school was one big room, I was about your age when, well, I changed. I remember how alarming that was to hear. Hazie, a dragon, going to school with children?

Like, invisible and stuff? He chuckled at me, but he didn't have time to elaborate as I heard the door to my bedroom open. I immediately played dead, not sure if it was my dad or my bedroom. brother. The prickles on the back of my neck told me that my brother was indeed the one in my room, staring at me coldly. I worried that he'd try to retake my light. That wasn't his plan, it seemed. My backpack was very slowly pulled off my bed. Something hit the floor and Dakota scurried out. I counted to ten before moving and Casey came back. When he didn't, I carefully sat up and looked around. Hasey's form was as still as a statue, as clear as glass.

But there. Talia, he took something. What? A little box with sticks inside. My crayons. Crayons? Oh, for coloring. I forgot.

Would you like them back? But Dakota doesn't want me in his room. Well, how about I get them back? He won't even know it was me. Really? Of course. Stay here, Talia. I watched as Hasey's clear form stood from the floor, and I got a good idea of just how big he was. He carefully popped open my bedroom door with his nose and slipped out to the room across the hall. I could see the end of his tail still inside my room, a shimmery point with a tuft at the end.

I'm sure he had to be 20 feet long from tail to nose. He returned shortly with a yellow box of crowns in one hand, a paw, I'm not sure, really, but he handed the box to me and heft. Your brother's room is a mess. And why does he have two beds? Two? One upon the other. Room a year ago.

Hazie shut my door with his back foot. Why do you have your own room now? Dakota wanted both beds. He peed the bed until dad it was me. My friend growled, his form rippled gently. How awful. His sudden icy tone had me scrambling for a happy thing to say. Hazie would never hurt me.

He told me so. But I still didn't like him being angry. I got my own room, so it's okay. I'm a big girl, so I don't pee the bed. Dakota does? It's a secret. Dad had to do a load of sheets just for Dakota's bed every two or three days. Mine only got changed every weekend, usually on Sunday.

days, so I'd have a whole week of new sheets. Ah, yes, of course. But you'd best be getting sleep now, dear. Okay, but what if Dakota comes back? Hmm, fair point. He turned towards the door, his lanky form hard to see, but still as present as before. I can stop him easily. Hazy slumped his body against my door and wall, blocking it from opening.

Good night, Talia. Now, because of the different times we got home, Dakota would be back before me for quite a bit. I made sure to always have my own house key with me because Dakota would, often, try to lock me out. Dad had a job that kept him out of the house until five, but we were never alone for long. Dakota only had to throw the deadbolt on the front door once before Dad took it down. I got a key for the front and back door after that. Kindergarten was rough. The first day of real school started up with trying to make friends that weren't hazy.

It wasn't easy, but I tried. I didn't want to be like Dakota and scare my classmates away. Since it was the first week of class, we got to do drawings for our morning warm-up. The prompt was to draw a picture of our family. Since white crayon didn't show up on white paper, I used gray and pressed as gently as I could. There stood my family, all three of us humans, and my dear dragon. I decided not to draw Mommy as an angel in the sky because Dad cried when I did that in a drawing before. Hopping off the school bus that afternoon, I couldn't wait to show Dad the drawing I'd made.

I could see it as something to go on the fridge. Hopefully, out of Dakota's reach, he didn't look up from watching the TV when I got home. I went straight to my room anyway. Of course, Hasey was the first one to see my drawing. I could tell he liked it because he wagged his tail. Oh, Talia, is that me? Yeah. I giggled at his wagging tail.

It was going so fast it made a flip-foot. noise against my rug. You're like a puppy. Puppy? Yeah. You wag your tail when you're happy. Like a puppy. I giggle, then burst out laughing at the idea of hazy doing tricks or even playing fetch.

Daddy says that a dog is a big respa... Responsibility. Yeah. Dakota doesn't like animals anyways. I don't want him to hurt a puppy. Has... Has your brother... hurt animals before.

I shrugged. I was too young to understand why it was terrible, but I knew it was terrible. Sometimes Dakota throws rocks at rabbits. One time he picked up a cat by the tail. Now that I'm a lot older, I know it was more that my brother threw a cat by the tail. Said cat never came near our house after that.

It was a friendly cat too. But it never seemed to come around after that happened. That's awful Hazie, can you keep a secret? Yes, of course. Daddy took Dakota's BB gun away because he shot at the dog down the street. The dog cried like I did when I skinned my knee.

That incident was what caused the first threats of military school. A warm breath huffed against my neck. I hugged Hazy around his throat and I felt a broad-clod pad against my back. His whole hand was wider than my back. Animals feel pain like you and I do. Only rotten people heard something for fun. I wondered as Hazy's scent of wood smoke and honeysuckle washed over me.

What he meant by rotten? Suddenly, Hazy lifted his head to the door. Your brother is coming. I think he heard us. Are you going to leave? No, no, dear. I just have to be quite. and stay still.

We can't have him see me. Okay. Soon enough, Dakota did come into my room. His cold eyes stared me down, and I clutched my picture behind my back. Who are you talking to? My friend Hazy. That's a stupid name. Hasey's not stupid.

He's a dragon. Dragons aren't real. He unfolded his arms and glared at me. What's that? Nothing. He made a move for my drawing. Give me it, Brat. No!

Give me it. Grasping one of my arms in a tight fist, Dakota wrenched the picture from me and held it high out of my reach. No! I jumped in vain to get it back, earning a knee to my chest that knocked me back. Shut up, I'm just looking. Dakota held the drawing in both hands, frowning. You draw weird. What's that gray thing?

That's Heazy. Tears blurred my vision. I felt Hasey's way. warmth behind me. Dakota glanced at me, then back at the drawing. In a swift, angry motion, he tore my picture in two. Crumpling the picture halves up, Dakota sneered. Dragons aren't real, retard. He cried, baby. He turned and left me on my rug, closing my door behind him. Hasey was on me in a second. Oh, Talia, I'm so sorry. He hugged me, now looking more like blurry static than anything.

I didn't know he would rip your drawing. If I did, I would have... He stopped, head to the door again. Is he coming back? No, he came by for a moment. My dragon strode forward and grasped my door handles. He gave it a turn and tug only to be met with a solid door. Does your door lock?

It won't open. Hez he tried again, pulling until the wood groaned. Talia, I think he locked us in. I hugged my pillow tight. Hazie again tried the door, but it only made more noise and earned a muffled shut up from Dakota. The sound of the TV grew loud enough to be felt through the floor. Shh.

It's all right. When does your father come home? Can I open the window and hold you out? Daddy said the windows painted shut. Hazie's form thumped across the floor, opening my toy box in the corner. Let's see. All right.

Try here. As he turned to me, he held up a little plastic pail that dad got me for my last birthday. In there? It's better than peeing on yourself, I should think. Hazy set the bucket down and turned his back to me. I won't look, I promise. Still sniffling, but not having better options other than going in the corner or my pants, I used the bucket.

I cried the whole time, and Hasey only turned around when I said I was done. Daddy's going to be... He shouldn't be. You didn't have a choice, Talia. Dakota's going to be in trouble when Daddy gets home. As he should, that rotten boy. I cuddled into Hazy's arms, breathing in his smell and closing my eyes. Hazy nuzzled my hair, humming.

Do you have any homework? Yeah. It's the math packet that I got to finish for Friday. That sounds difficult. You could work on that until your father gets home. I pulled away from Hazy and climbed onto my bed for my backpack. I got to work quickly, Hazy laying nearby. He was good at math, but never gave me answers.

He only guided me as we waited on the clock for my dad. I'd finished up that night's and the next, starting on Wednesdays, when the sound for the front door opening got my... attention. I leaped down from my bed into the door, trying the knob. It didn't work, of course. I just wanted to make noise and get out of the pea bucket bedroom I was in. I pummeled the door with my tiny fists until I could hear him calling out to me. Talia? Who I did? Ah, Dakota. Dad, it wasn't me. Bullshit. I covered my mouth in shock. My dad rarely ever swore. She was... Go sit at the table. I'll deal with you later.

I didn't do anything. Downstairs. Now! Fine. Talia. Dad opened his arms and I ran right into them. He didn't smell like hazy. He smelled like his aftershave and laundry soap. Wonderful and familiar.

Oh, baby. Are you okay? I'm sorry I wasn't here. I'm okay, Daddy. Dakota ripped up my drawing and I had to pee in a bucket. Bucket? Sh, baby, baby. Okay, you're not in trouble.

Rubbing my back, he scooped me up off the floor. Okay, sweetie, you show me that bucket and stay up here for a while. I'll have a talk with Dakota, and you can come down for dinner, okay? He set me on my bed and I nodded, frowning. It's by my toys. Okay, now you just stay here. I'll be back up soon. Heading for the door, he left at a jar behind him and carried away the chair that had been wedged under the knob.

I didn't budge, but I listened. There was an argument brewing downstairs, and I wasn't sure where Hazy was. Hazy? I'm here. His weight pressed into the mattress next to me. I'll stay here all night. Are you here all the time? I come by to see if you're home, but I'm usually in the woods.

Muffled yelling came up the stairs. I hunkered down close to my dragon. I've tried everything, Dakota. You don't even care. Dakota said nothing, but I could picture him in my mind. Arms crossed chin to his chest glaring with those icy eyes. You won't talk to the therapist I took you to. You won't talk to me.

You won't listen to me. And you keep harassing your sister. You think I was joking about military school? You're going on Sunday. Hazy hugged me tight as I snuggled into his warrant. Dead. You can't. Too late.

I've given you a ton of chances. Dad, Dad, please. Go to your room. Fuck you. All you care about is that stupid, retarded baby. Don't you eat. I was here first.

You like her more than me. I hate you. I hugged Hasey tightly. He shushed me, his scent and warmth calming me as I tried not to cry. Dakota kept shouting the whole way to his bedroom. Dad gave him the same treatment that he'd given me, chair under the doorknob. Seeing as the upstairs bedrooms all had windows painted shut, Dakota was as stuck as I had been. Carefully, Hazy pulled away from me and my dad entered the room.

Sying, he sat on the bed next to me and pulled me into a side hug. Talia, sweetie, Dakota's going away for a while. Why? Well, you see, Dakota's... Well, he's not nice. He's always doing bad things, and he's not trying to do good things. I want to help him, but I'm not smart enough, too. I gasped.

How could my dad not know what to do? He knew everything, didn't he? So I'm going to call some smarter people, and they will help Dakota. They'll teach him how to be a good person better than I can, but that means he's going to be gone for him. a while. I love him as much as I love you, but I can't help him right now. Those people at the special school can. You understand? He smiled sadly at me. I didn't have a reply. Dakota was always mean, but he was my big brother. Does he have to go? Oh, it's not fun for me either, kiddo.

But you sometimes have to do scary or sad things so other people can be happy. patting me on the back he stood. Now, how about chicken nuggets for dinner? I couldn't turn down nuggets. The next day at school was a blur. Dad told me as he dropped me off that he'd try to be home early, so I wouldn't be left alone for long with Dakota. The deal was that if he were going to be on his regular home time,

he'd call the house a bit after I would be home and let me know. I didn't like it, but there weren't other options on such short notice. gray clouds bubbled overhead, but it didn't rain until that night. It wasn't a fun day knowing my big brother was going to be sent away for a while. I didn't see Dakota on the couch when I got home. I guessed that he was pouting or he wasn't back yet. That struck me as weird because he was always home before me. I didn't know what to think of that, but I did know that I had math work to finish.

Easy? I made my way upstairs to my room. I was greeted with my bedroom door, left wide open. I never left my door open out of habit. I couldn't see my dragon, not that I could most of the time. Hezy? I set my bag on the floor and watched my window for him either to come through or stand up. Behind me, my door clicked shut and I turned. Hezzy. There, still in his shoes and backpack, was my brother. He dropped his bag on the floor as he came at me. I didn't have time to get away. Dakota grabbed my shirt.

shirt and tossed me like a rag doll onto the bed. I screamed, but he covered my mouth with his sweaty hand. Shut up. I was pinned under my brother's heaviness, and no amount of thrashing could help me get loose. I bit his hand and shrieked. Suddenly my pillow was mushed against my face, and it was getting harder to breathe. I got one of my knees into Dakota's crotch, giving me time to inhale as deep as my little lungs could.

Dakota reared back and slapped me. Hard enough to hurt, but not enough to shut me up. Your stupid dragon isn't real. So shut up. Shut up. The pillow was back and I began to fight again, struggling and losing strength as I did. I hate you. I hate you.

I hate you. I hate you. His shouts cut out as the world around me went black. It was like I was in the pool all over again. Running out of time, air, and strength. There was a throaty, weird, warbling growl from my window. The pillow lifted as my big brother turned to the sand. Dakota, you are one rotten boy.

My brother rolled off of me, and I lifted my head gasping for air. Then, as if appearing through a fog, I saw hazy as he really was. His skin was dappled like a horse, but hairless, and all his limbs were modeled black. He was covered in scars that left white, raised lines all over his body. body. A long face like a borsoy, but with slits for a nose halfway up the muzzle. Long donkey ears pinned back in anger. A mop of greasy slate gray hair sat on a round humanoid head. His whole body looked long, stretched out like a reptile. His long camel-like neck curved so he was looking down his muzzle at Dakota. He rose to his back feet, shoulders touching

the ceiling. His eyes near solid black. The only real color to them, were the thin purple irises that fixed hungrily on my brother. Rotten boys are my favorites. He coiled and lunged, revealing a gaping mouth full of sharp, tiny teeth. Dakota didn't have time to scream as Hazy, my dragon held one of his arms in each bare-pawed fist. Hasey opened his jaws wider than a snake and shoved Dakota's head and shoulders in his mouth.

His legs kicked, but Hazy grabbed his knees and pushed him deeper into a little. his long, writhing throat. Hazy reached for the backpack at the foot of my bed and gulped that down, too. Jaws flexed like a hungry snake who'd finally found a meal. It was all over in less than ten seconds. There I lay on my little mermaid bedcloths, watching in horror as my imaginary friend ate my big brother in a few hard swallows. His stomach bulged under him, round and twitching slightly with the death throes of his meal. You... You ate Dakota.

Hazie cracked his long, sagging neck with a loud series of pops. I did. He can't hurt you in my belly. But why? His chest and stomach rolled like a slinky in a sock. I think I saw a foot kicking outward. Hazie's wide eyes fixed on me, ears back like a scared cat. He was a rotten boy.

He never would have been good, Talia. What am I going to tell you? Daddy. Hmm. Good question. Hazy sank into the floor frowning. He crossed his front legs, tail thumping on the carpet behind him. I got a good look at him then, this strange creature.

He seemed at best a cross between a morayal, a horse, and a bear, with enough human in him to look wrong. Hazy was certainly not a dragon. A claw curled to his lip in thought, eyes glared. dancing at the floor. Tell him, Dakota never came home. Would that work? Daddy will miss him, Heazy. He will.

I'm so sorry. He's inside of me. He can't come back. I crawled forward on my knees. Black and purple stared at me with nothing but kindness, and in that second, I feared him the most. Hezy? Yes.

Talia? You're not going to eat me too, are you? What? Of course not. I only eat rotten children. You're far too sweet, Talia. It finally sank in that he didn't just mean my personality. Sitting up on his haunches with his tail flicking softly against my rug,

Hazy clasped one hand over the other, frowning. I really am sorry for eating your brother. I know you loved him, but he was hurting you. He'd have done worse to others had I not eaten him. Children that are rotten like him always turn into rotten grownups, and rotten grownups do horrible things. Hazie? Yes, Talia.

Are you going to eat my kids when I grow up? Hazie stared hard at me, a lavender tongue darting out. Not if they're as sweet as you. With that, the dappled, friendly, awful beast slipped out of my window via the glass. His paw prints left huge dents on my carpet, as always. Dad came home to me, alone. I told him as convincingly as I could that Dakota never came home.

Since his shoes and backpack were gone with him, Dad believed me. The cops were called, then an Amber Alert went out. Searching the woods and sending out search dogs didn't turn up a thing. Dakota was gone as if plucked out of the world. or swallowed by a monster.

I never saw Hasey again. Right now, as I finish this, my first child is sleeping in the bassinet by my bed, her chubby cheeks and cute little mouth working gently as she dreams. It's been two months of beautiful post-birth bliss, no postpartum to be found here. As I watch my little girl sleep, I remember my childhood friend, Hasey, the dragon, and I pray.

I pray that as she grows up, my little girl stays as sweet as she is now. As the lights come back on, our stories come to an end. Please remember to be kind and rewind. 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. On behalf of everyone at the No Sleep Podcast, we thank you for listening. Join us at the video store next week. Our door is always open.

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