The NoSleep Podcast - NoSleep Podcast S13E22

Episode Date: November 24, 2019

It's episode 22 of Season 13. On this week's show we have tales about stimulating our bodies and minds. "Daylight Remaining" written by John Wiswell (Story starts around 00:05:45) TRIGGER WARNING! Produced by: Phil Michalski Cast: Narrator – Nikolle Doolin, Taggard – Atticus Jackson, Leo – Elie Hirschman, Devon – Kyle Akers "I Remember Annie" written by Eli Ryder (Story starts around 00:22:15) TRIGGER WARNING! Produced by: Phil Michalski Cast: Charlie – Kyle Akers, Annie – Addison Peacock, Gas Station Attendant – Jesse Cornett, Doctor – Erin Lillis "The Incidental Discovery of the Paranormal" written by John Foster (Story starts around 00:45:20) Produced by: Jeff Clement Cast: Dr. Frank Matthews – Jeff Clement, Peter – Matthew Bradford, Dr. Richard Brumbaugh – Andy Cresswell "The Book of Skin" written by Blair Daniels (Story starts around 01:05:45) Produced by: Phil Michalski Cast: Mary – Jessica McEvoy, Sharon – Nichole Goodnight, Mildred Thompson – Erika Sanderson, Andrew Thompson – Graham Rowat "2,300 Steps" written by Derek Walker (Story starts around 01:35:05) TRIGGER WARNING! Produced by: Jesse Cornett Cast: Sam Kline – Mike DelGaudio, Jamie Kline – Sarah Thomas, Sharlene Jones - Erin Lillis, Police Receptionist – Alexis Bristowe, Officer Wolff – David Cummings Click here to learn more about the voice actors on The NoSleep Podcast   Click here to buy tickets to the Euro 2020 Live Tour   Click here to learn more about our Season Pass Program   Click here to learn more about Blair Daniels   Click here to learn more about Derek Walker   Executive Producer & Host: David Cummings Musical score composed by: Brandon Boone "The Book of Skin" illustration courtesy of Thea Arnman 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

Hello listeners, voice actor Penny Scott Andrews here. If you've listened to the podcast before, then you'll know our C-O-O-O-O-Livia never appears vocally on the show. In fact, she's even had Atticus play her in ads in the past. However, for this week's Better Help ad, she was going to brave it all and actually narrate for herself. Thanks to mental health help, including talking therapies such as Better Help, she's starting to feel more confident about things like this. However, a week ago, disaster struck, and she came down with the most painful dental abscess. According to her, the pain was worse than the two times she's had her spine surgically broken.

So, you know, talking's out the window for her right now. But she promises she would. But here's the other thing. Being in pain can affect your emotional well-being. a lot. And sometimes you need to talk about that, even if you can't physically talk. That's where BetterHelp comes in. Better Help will assess your needs and match you with your own licensed professional therapist. You can start communicating in under 24 hours. It's not a crisis line. It's not self-help. It is professional counselling done securely online. There is a broad range of expertise in

Better Helps counsellor network, which may not be locally available in many areas. Better Help service is available for clients worldwide. It doesn't matter when you need help, day or night. You can log into your account anytime and send a message to your counselor. You'll get timely and thoughtful responses, plus you can schedule weekly video or phone sessions so you won't ever have to sit in an uncomfortable waiting room, plus you can even chat and text with your therapist between sessions. BetterHelp is committed to facilitating great therapeutic matches, so they make it easy and free to change counsellors if needed. It's more affordable than traditional offline counselling, and financial aid is even available.

So, whenever you need some help, visit betterhelp.com slash no sleep and join the over 500,000 people taking charge of their mental health with a help of an experienced professional. No sleep listeners, get 10% off your first month at betterhelp.com slash no sleep. sleep. And even if you're not physically sick, even if you're the picture of health, then your mind still needs looking after. We rush to the dentist for a toothache, although some people even leave that too long, Olivia, but we'll leave our mental health problems for as long as possible. And there's no reason to do that. So don't suffer longer than you need to, and don't even be afraid to reach out preemptively. That's what services like BetterHelp are for, to offer a helping

hand. So remember, reach out to that helping hand by visiting betterhelp.com slash no sleep to get 10% off your first month. We miss our own risk. Ready for the dark tales when we dare not close our eyes. Brace yourself for the no sleep podcast. To the no sleep podcast video store. I'm David Cummings. Our VCR is ready to play stories about stimulating our bodies and minds. As we head into the week of U.S. Thanksgiving, we wish all who celebrate it a happy Turkey Day. And after that comes the infamous Black Friday sales. So while you're scoping out all the hottest deals, keep this in mind.

We're going to be having our very own Cyber Monday sale on December 2nd. We'll be slashing prices on our season passes and bundles. So don't spend every penny on Friday. grab some extra no sleep content for a great price. And they make excellent holiday gifts, just saying. Head over to season past.com for all the details. And don't forget another good gift idea. Tickets to see our Euro 2020 tour in January.

The tour starts in six weeks, so don't wait too long to grab your tickets to one of our shows in the UK and Europe. And now, we're thankful that you're thankful that. you're listening to our stories this week, we're ready to serve them up with all the stuffin. So turn down the lights and grab the remote because it's time for our feature presentation. In our first tale, we're reminded of the importance of being alone. Sometimes it's because we just need space. Sometimes it's quiet in order to be able to work, and sometimes it's a little more sinister.

In this tale, shared by author John Wisswell, we meet a man who will do anything to find his own space to be alone. Performing this tale are Nicole Doolin, Atticus Jackson, Ellie Hirschman, and Kyle Akers. So remember, sometimes when someone asks to be left alone, they mean it. Otherwise, the consequences can be dire, especially if there's not much daylight remaining. the city, following a creek as far from the highway as daylight allowed. It took him through a sparse woodland, through the charred remnants of a cabin, and absolutely nothing that could hold him. The declining sun taunted him from between the balding spruces, with the cusp of the moon threatening to rise into the blue sky. It made hair stand up on the back of his neck and prickle against his threadbare shirt.

The creek led him to a chubby schoolhouse. Bricks too red to be more than a decade old. Taggart had accidentally run right onto the cusp of urban creep, and the only relief was that the school looked closed. The windows were dark, reflecting now graying sky, and there were just two runt kids left on the front lawn, shoving each other into a pile of sawdust. He ducked to avoid their notice,

and found a precious opening. An animal hole that weather had eroded wider near the base of the creek. Taggart crawled inside, inviting anything that still remained to bite at him. It wouldn't matter. He simply had to put himself away before it got any later. Soil spilled down his collar as he sank to the far corner,

groping around until he found thick roots from the white oaks above. This could work. He gathered up its roots. and yanked as hard as he could, but the hole's walls afforded no give. Sying, he pulled out the silver shackles, cuffing his right wrist around the bundle of roots. The metal stung like ice, reassuring him as it always had. Taggart fingered the key,

not sure where to hide it from his other self. He moved to the mouth of the cave when he heard an adenoidal voice. Mr. Cox, Mr. Cox, Heaven's bothering me again. Taggart held his breath and peered out the hole. Across the creek and into the muted dusk, the moon would emerge over the canopy in minutes. A boy's puffy face blocked out the sky,

ruddy cheeks and a runt nose quivering at him. He was ten at the oldest, belly straining against a red and green-striped sweater and overalls. Mr. Cox, what are you doing in there? I'm not Cox. Get along. This is private land. This is the school.

Do you help Mr. Cox clean the classrooms? Fuck off. I told you. I'm not Cox. So get the hell home. It was the only thing he could imagine no teacher or janitor saying. He hoped to spook the kid. The boy's breathing hitched, slender nostrils quivering. He withdrew from the opening.

But Taggart could hear his labor. breathing out there over the trickle of the creek. He must have had a deviated septum or something. In another moment, the boys' patched overalls returned. There was a Captain America shield ironed over one knee. I'm Leo. Can you walk me home for a minute? There's a big kid who waits in the road to beat me up if I go alone,

and Mom can't pick me up today. No. Taggard swatted at him with his free left hand. He could only. reach halfway out of the hole with the slack from the shackles and roots. He hoped they'd hold. Sneak around him. Get. I try, but he's cleverer than me.

Cleverer. The kid had picked up a vocabulary word just to describe how forlorn he was. Taggard scratched at his aching jaw, already beginning to swell. It's not my problem. Devon steals things from me sometimes. He broke my Hulk. Kid Taggart emphasized warning with his tone

Though he worried how much he could say Without getting police called He couldn't have another officer on his conscience Kid, I'm really sick Please leave me alone Leo backpedaled two paces from the hole Studied his sneakers Then nodded to Taggart

I won't catch it from here Mrs. Valdez in science says you have to be close to catch a cold He tilted his runt nose upward and noisily sucked in air. You breathe it. That's science, huh? The boy hunkered down, squinting at him like an animal at the zoo. Almost like he'd jabbed Haggerd with a stick if one were nearby.

Can I stay with you for a while? If Devin comes by, you can tell him to go away. Depends. Taggard looked around his dirt cave. He tugged on the cuffs, which bit harder with their coldness. If yelling wouldn't spook the kid, then he needed to find another way to get rid of him. And soon. You come here every day?

Every school day. I haven't missed in four years. The boy held up three fingers and a thumb, leaving his middle finger down. I get a silver star every month I don't miss. I make constellations in my folder. Devon stole it. Tagger judged the sky over Leo's shoulder. a dissolving brown orange.

Like heaven was a stale coke separating and settling into dissolving ice. He grunted at himself, then held up the key to his shackles. The hair in the backs of his hands had already darkened and doubled. You can sit with me for five minutes if you bring this back to me tomorrow morning, okay? You do that, and I'll buy you some stickers. Like he'd expected, the boy's cheeks undulated in a rapid nod, desperate for approval. Taggart had been like that as a kid, though scrawnyer. The desperation had gotten him bit, and hell if he'd do that to another kid.

He tossed the key and Leo tried to catch it, fumbled, and had to climb down the creaksome to retrieve it. The boy returned with it held over his head, showing it off as proud as a golden retrieval. Reaver, then crossed his heart and stuck it in his overalls. Thanks for sitting with me. Mr. Cox went home sick. He usually walks me home. The dad works. Somewhere, I guess. Mom gets mad if I ask about him. Tagger dug his heels into the soil, trying to get comfortable before the agony set in. Even though this boy blocked most of the horizon, it wouldn't matter once moonlight arrived. Half of him hoped he didn't terrify the kid into never coming back with that key.

The other half long to be stranded down here. It can be hard being a parent. You good to your mom? Good as I can be. I make her bed nice. Sometimes I give her my stickers, the ones Devin doesn't steal. And the ones you don't use in Constellate. Taggart began to joke.

Then his chest heaved and he threw himself face first into the dirt of the kid. cave. Christ. It came earlier every day this time of year. He didn't realize he was growling until he saw the boy's mouth. It fell open like a deep gash. How sick are you, mister? Too sick. And listen, it's been five minutes. You should run along. His teeth ached, threatening to pop from his gums. He tried to steady his voice and pointed out to the creek. His fingers were matted with hair now. If you follow that creek, you might circle out around your bully without him knowing. Leo swallowed, spooked enough to look at the creek with new consideration.

Taggard guessed sticker buying might be canceled tomorrow. That's a good idea. Even then, the boy returned his eyes to Taggart with a wounded hope. He couldn't help but say something nice to that runt nose. You seem like a good kid. Life might suck right now, but you'll find the grip of it. Keep aware when you do. The boy shuffled his feet and overhead, above the fanning white oak canopy,

the moon winked at him. Taggart's lungs quaked and he rolled onto his belly. Shackles rattling. Whining as the vertebrae of his spine spread. The flame. The panel strained across his shoulders, and his ears ached from how much he was suddenly hearing, including Leo's mouth breathing. You're real sick, aren't you? Remember to bring that key tomorrow.

Then his gums split, and teeth patted wetly into his palm, making way for fangs that filled his mouth and a lip-tearing grin. He writhed from the dirt and saw the creek was vacant. The dumb kid had headed to the road and to his bully, bound to get beat another day. Some kids were born for abuse. All Taggart could do was pray he came back in the morning. His guts heaved and he threw his face and left shoulder into the wall so hard he felt blood mixed with the soil.

He hacked and thrashed to the right, spying the yellowish white rays of something other than the sun outside. He grinded his teeth together and growled at a moon unseen and intruding. Hair warmed out between his knuckles, and he shuddered against the silver handcuffs. Their icy grip grew more intense as his nature began to offend theirs, and he hoped the roots would hold. He salivated until his lips could no longer close around his mouth. and panted, wanting to cry out, but his trachea had ruptured. This was what he always remembered.

His blood wetting his appetite before he could howl, how he wanted to groan for salvation, and how the moon denied him. Rather than wolves baying at the moon, he heard a familiar adenoidal voice chanting. Devin Goon, Devin Goon, looks like. a fat balloon. Come here. Give me that key. You probably stole it. The pudgy cheeks and flattened nose bounded into Taggard's view.

Leo held the silver handcuff key aloft, letting it shine in the moonlight. Taggart reached for it and found his fingers had retracted into a paw. You want it? Leo then threw the key into the hole. It glittered and tumbled to within Taggard's reach. And he scooted further into the hole, hunching shoulders that tore through his flannel. Some other urge in him drooled at it,

and watched the key with a hunger. The urge was strong. Then Leo ran out of his vision, and a second boy fell at the mouth of the hole with a hard thump. He was taller, with broader hands, meteor to Taggard's warping eyes, and his head switched between this. new boy into the key between his paws.

Taggard tried to yell at him, tried to call out his name, to guess that he was Devin, but he couldn't. He tried to growl or bay, to howl at the moon. Yet his throat wasn't finished remodeling. His snout and fangs were finished, though, pointed teeth clicking together. Too quiet to stop Devin from reaching into the whole. hole to retrieve the key to within snatching distance. By then, Taggart was hardly tagged. He was a set of warped eyes watching the descent, and by the time he could

growl, he snagged Devon's yellow backpack in his claws. Wolfieers ticked to hear him scream, and his sneaker scuffle, and frogs chirp on the creek. Night wind rising. And somewhere, Adenoidal singing about the constellations that were out tonight. Our next story is coming right up. But I want to mention a product I'm super excited about. Away luggage. When I saw many of our tour team with their Away carry-ons, I knew I needed my own. That's why I bought some Away luggage.

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any away order within the contiguous US, Europe, and Australia. And when you go to awaytravel.com slash no sleep and use the promo code no sleep at checkout, you get $20 off your suitcase. Away luggage. I use it and I love it. So for $20 off a suitcase, visit awaytravel.com slash no sleep and use promo code no sleep during checkout. And now back to the show. It's natural to want to protect loved ones. And even when they say they can handle themselves, sometimes they need a helping hand. That's what Charlie believed when he finally decided to repay his sister for all the help she'd given him as a child. But in this tale, shared with us by author Ellie Ryder,

we discover that not only can Charlie's sister protect herself, the thing she's protecting herself from isn't quite what her brother expected. Performing this tale are Kyle Acres, Addison Peacock, Jesse Cornett, and Aaron Lillis. So remember, not everything is what it seems, and bad people can surprise you in the worst ways, as Charlie tells us in, I remember Annie. I was 12, the first time I knew my sister killed someone.

Could have happened before then, no doubt. But after Pete Murphy hit me so hard upside the head, I fell off my bike and dropped in my backpack. Annie kicked Pete square in the nuts with all the might and eight-year-old girl could muster. I swore for years afterward, a white light flashed when she connected, coming from somewhere inside her. Pete fell and writhed in a puddle of his own vomit. All the kids standing around us.

Most of them just off the afternoon bus laughed. You leave Charlie alone. Then she spit on Pete. He never messed with me or anyone again. A year later, Pete died. Cancer, everyone said. I didn't think you could die from a kick to the nuts, but if it was cancer,

I knew in my heart that whatever burning hot power Annie tapped into that day put the cancer in Pete. I'd swear to it. and I knew I owed her for it. Now, 20 years later, I thought I was finally returning to favor. I tried before, and she'd always shooed me away, later seeming no worse for wear. Tried to warn her about boys, tried to give her gifts like pepper spray and pocket knives, warned her to not walk alone, to stay out of parking lots, and to always watch her shoulders.

She'd always laughed me off. I'd always tried, and she'd always seemed to be able to be able to be. okay without me. This time, though, I white-knuckled the Caprice's steering wheel while my sister stared over the back passenger seat, her hands cradling her child's swollen belly. She grimaced. Dark clouds hung over the city far behind us, stretching over the miles of desert we'd already traveled. Lightning flash. Thunder chased it close. The Caprice's motor thrummed. It's okay now. We're going to be okay. I've got you, kid. She laughed. It was an empty sound.

No, Charlie, you don't. And don't call me, kid. Rain splattered the car's roof and windshield. The air darkened. She stared through it. We'd been plowing through the rain long enough to drain the caprices tank to fumes when the horizon birthed a dilapidated building on the side of the road. Though it was still early afternoon, the cloud cover and thick rain grayed out the sandblasted stucco

and paint-peeled wood signage. Another crackle of lightning burned the building's outline into my retinas. The Caprize shuddered and choked. We can't stop here. No choice. It's here or walk. I stole a sideways look at her. Her bruises were dark and fresh. I gasped so hard I almost choked when she'd opened her door.

Shouldn't have come. Her swollen lips muffled the words as she blinked nervously, looking over her shoulder into the apartment behind her. A curtain of earthy dampness. hung on the air inside. That motherfucker'd do this to you? I always knew she was special, so strong and good. I couldn't figure out how she always ended up with the wrong kinds of guys.

She was always with some serious piece of shit who didn't deserve her. And my only solace was that every time she eventually wised up. Every subsequent relationship was worse, it seemed like. And it took her longer to get out and recover of each one. But she did move on. She didn't talk much about any of them, but had been especially quiet about this one, seemed afraid to even say his name. So in that, I guess I knew enough. I'll kill him.

She'd shaken her head. No, you won't. Can't do anything about it. You'll only make it worse. She disappeared into the apartment, returned a moment later without having me to sound. You think I'm going to let him get away with this? It's you getting away, Charlie. She'd tossed me a backpack and shoved me toward the car, waddling behind me,

and then slid carefully to the passenger seat. She shifted there now, clearly stiff and uncomfortable, her feet resting on the backpack on the floorboard. She looked into the darkness behind us, around us. Rain hissed on the road and beat the caprices metal and glass. Can't stop. Not here. See any other gas around? We coasted to a stop next to an analog display,

gas pump, something I hadn't seen outside movies in years. A corrugated metal roof covered the pump. The makeshift carport screamed under the onslaught of rain. The hand-painted sign lashed the building's roof. Diner and gas swayed in the deluge. Annie searched the black sky, chewing her lip. I opened my door, and Annie jumped. You okay, kid? Don't fucking call me, kid. The pump's handle didn't quite reach the Caprice's trunk-mounted gas tank, so I had to push at the last two or three feet. That was the car's only downside. It was a two-ton tank wrapped around the most luxurious bench seats I'd ever slept on. But fuck trying to push the thing. I hung the pump in the caprices fill tube and wedged the lever open. The rain was cold and bit through my thin jacket.

I'd left the driver door open and Annie shivered. She slid out, stood next to me and I threw my arm over her shoulder. Freezing and starving. We don't have a lot of lot of time, that the baby is kicking the shit out of my ribs. Angry. Let's be quick. We went inside. The rain soaking us to the bone on the way. A raspy voice crept out of the darkness.

Powers out. Pumps running. I inhaled. Tasted stale dust and ancient cleaner. An odd must hung in the air. The same smell of wet earth coming out of Annie's apartment. The memory wriggled in the back of my mind. We dripped water on the floor.

Different breaker. Annie took my hand. A match popped yellow and glowed on a deep-lined scowl. Take a second for the candles. Annie dug her nails into my hand. I jumped a little at the pain. Thought for a moment something had stabbed out of the dark to reel us in. Lightning cracked again, loud enough to shake the building's windows.

I jumped harder that time, and Annie's nails dragged across my palm. The flash lit the room. for just an instant. A few spinning racks half-stocked with single-serving chip and jerky bags sat near the counter, which stretched the length of the room, leaving very little space near the wall

farthest from the door, where a shadow-edged figure stood and stared. Even in the flash of light, it was only a silhouette. A man, broad-shouldered and angular. He waved, then the room went dark. Charlie! Annie pulled me toward the door.

Then, feeling both invasive and comforting, her voice flashed across my mind. We need to leave now. She hadn't spoken out loud. Yep. My out loud response felt as natural as Annie's telepathy. I followed her, my hand weeping blood between her fingers. Annie kept pulling.

The lights buzzed on just before we hit the door, coating the room in an orange yellow haze. The figure in the corner still stared. The light not quite having reached his space against the wall. The rest of the room felt warmer, though. almost comfortable my sense of alarm began to fade huh the old man behind the counter didn't seem to notice the figure in the corner it's ugly out there yeah let's go annie clamped down on my hand again and yanked me through the front door lightning shattered the sky its explosion ears splitting and immediate the shop's lights died i slipped annie's grip

and fell, catching myself on my palms and rolling out of my back. The rocks stung my gouged hand. The man against the wall had come out of the shadows to the front of the shop, looking more powerful in the darkness just inside the glass doors. His eyes shone hot in the dark. I stood, half on my own and half on Annie's arm, who, my mind reeled. She couldn't be in both places at once, could she? Was also behind the wheel, key turning the motor over. Thumbail-sized chunks of hail pelted my face, my back. It rattled on the metal above the pump, chipping the caprices paint where it snuck past the carport.

There was no sound other than the frozen sky crashing to the ground. Hurry the fuck up, Charlie, get in the car. Annie's voice again, already between my ears without having traveled through them. The storm's horrific noise would have drowned her out otherwise. I bolted for the car, pulling the pump out of the fill tube and tossing it to the ground in one motion. And before I'd shut the passenger door, Annie floored the accelerator, spinning the back wheels on the gravel before they caught and shot us out onto the road. That was him, Charlie. That was fucking him. What are you talking about? We didn't get away. God damn it. You didn't get away.

What the hell are you talking about? Annie slapped tears off her cheeks with one hand and rustled the steering wheel with the other. Hale and wind pummeled the caprice, overwhelmed the wipers and headlights, but Annie drove faster. Her massive belly rubbed against the steering wheel. Well, we're so damn dense, you know that? You should have left me there. I should have sent you away. Should have shut the door in your face, and now we're... He's... Hey, slow down. The Caprice wobble. It was a feeling I didn't recognize. The car's weight normally keeps it stable and true. There was nothing but thick hail and darkness through the windshield. my heart slammed in my chest.

You don't understand. Annie swallowed, looked at me, and then back at the road. I had him beaten. Finally, I had a plan. And you... I couldn't just leave you, damn it. And now we're fucked. Easy, kid.

Easy. The Caprize shook. I gulped. Don't... She grimaced, took a hand off a steering wheel, and clutched her side. stomach. The Caprice lurched. Lightning blasted the desert with hard light that glinted off the barrage of sharp hailstones cutting the night. I squinted, held my hands up to shield my eyes. The shadow man stood on

the double yellow in the middle of the road, hail swirling around him and skittering on the ground, but never touching him. His glowing eyes burned hotter, and under them I could almost make out a slight, victorious smile i reached over and yanked the wheel the caprice's rear end slid on the wet asphalt and the slow motion clarity of adrenaline crystallized my vision the caprice's front end circled around the shadow man who padded the hood like the car was an obedient dog the shadow man waved at me that victorious smile visible in the caprice's headlights his teeth were jagged hailstones his mouth a dark storm flashing lightning in his throat. The car kept spinning, and I smacked my head on the damage.

Choking. I tasted petrachore. I opened my eyes. A soft rain velveted the Caprice's hood. The driver's seat was empty. The door hanging open over the road's sopping shoulder. The windshield wipers flipped back and forth. Annie?

My throat closed around her name. She was gone. I stepped out of the car and sank into the muddy shoulder. In the wet darkness, the desert plain was infinite and featureless. And I felt lost everywhere and nowhere all at once. On the ground next to the driver's seat, in the weak glow of the Caprice's dome light, her backpack lay slightly open, revealing a mass of bound and curled bills taking on water. A few unfurled in the wind, flapping Benjamin Franklin's profile back and forth.

One escaped and fluttered out into the night. Go, Charlie. Leave. Take it and go. Her voice spiked hard in my head, and I winced. The money, enough to disappear, I thought, was for me. She was sending me away. Near the backpack, a furrowed trail in the mud.

A body's drag marks led away from the car. Blood tinged the water collected in the ruts. A few feet away, Annie's shoes stuck out of the mud. the soul was half torn off. Annie! The wind swallowed my voice. I threw the pack into the car and followed drag marks with my eyes. Track them over the shoulder and into the night shrouded sage and puff grass dotting the desert floor.

I'd need lights and something a few bushes wouldn't slow down. Something heavy enough to keep moving through wet sand, something with mass and momentum. A tank. I turned back to the caprice. Its wipers flipped back and forth. forth. One of the tires had pulled off the rim, and I sat in a wet road to change it, mashing my thumb with the tire iron in my hurry. I punched the Caprice's quarter panel in anger, and it rocked on the jack. I froze. The car settled. The rain thickened and hail stabbed down again before I finished

the tire. When I was done, my hand and thumb bled openly. My teeth chattered, and my soaked shirt stuck to my ribs. I threw the jack and bad tire into the trunk, slammed the lid, And the hail intensified, roaring down again. Inside the car, I cranked the heater, slammed into drive. No, Charlie, leave now. Go away. Lightning flashed. In the distance, among the low-slung shadows of small kreosot and yucca, the shadow man stood over a heap on the ground.

His eyes glowed. In their light, Annie's hand, palm up and reaching, flashed white. Go, Charlie. Fuck that. I floored it. The rear wheel spun on the road, then in the mud, and then the front end bounced over the lip of the shoulder, and I plowed over plants and twigs, barreling along. A rabbit darted out of the headlights beams.

The shadow man looked at me, eyes burning stars against the darkness of his silhouette, darkness that didn't change even though it was square in the Caprice's headlights. And there was Annie, on the ground, her knees, something squirming on the ground. in front of her, still connected to her. I bore down. Closer now, I could see Annie's color, pale, bruised, shadows around her bloodshot eyes. Her hands were slick with blood, caked with sand, and she pushed away from the shadow man, away from the iCord covered newborn in front of her. It crawled toward the shadow man, still tethered to Annie, struggling against her, but making progress, dragging her toward the shadow man, despite her clawing against the sand.

Annie's scream pounded both inside and outside my ears. My vision doubled, my eyes watered, and something hot flowed from my right ear. The horizon tilted, swayed back, and I vomited steaming bile onto my lap. It's too late, Charlie. My God, it's too late, too late, too late, too late, too late. lightning forked the shadow man seemingly from inside annie blinding me the caprice caught a rut in the mud slamming the front end to the right then the whole thunderous machine popped into the air barrel rolling over and over metal crunched and glass broke and my forearm folded neatly to the right before my torso slammed against and broke

through the steering wheel and then bounced away i knew i was spinning but i couldn't see anything except the flash of light still cooking my retinas. My screaming mixed with the sound of the caprice coming apart around me. And then, I was still. The world was quiet, dark, cold. And that was all, for a moment. Then, somewhere beyond my closed eyelids, beyond the limits of my own space.

Lights flashed white and red, and dark, dark, dark, and then light again. I twitched, tried to open. open my eyes. Explosions rocked. I twitched again and finally, my own name dragged me out of unconsciousness. Charlie? I opened my eyes, blinked away the sand and the blood. Charlie. I pushed myself off the ground with my good left arm, caught a look at my right angled forearm, and fell loosely back to the ground. Charlie. Up again. The world dissolving into pain and light around me. I shielded my eyes

stumbled, screamed after trying to balance with my broken arm. Charlie! My vision cleared. Annie stood not ten feet from him. Her belly torn open and leaking thick, dark fluid. The shadow man lay on the ground, steam rising from his twitching body.

His hands covered his eyes. Annie held the baby. Not a baby, I saw then. A thing with sharp eyebrows and even. ears and chin, nostrils flared, thin, and angular. By the head, its body hanging above and twitching in time with the shadow man on the ground. Annie's fingers dug into its eyes and mouth. Charlie.

Annie looked at me. I never needed saving. She crushed the thing's head, and it stopped twitching. The shadow man evaporated into black smoke. The thing shriveled to a husk, Annie dropped it into the mud. where it dissolved into nothing. Then she pointed at me. Go.

Something pushed hard in my mind. It was the hospital beeps that woke me. The machines telling me I was still alive and should wake. A young man in Scrubs saw me and ran from the room, returned with an older woman and a lab coat who shined a light in my pupils, put a firm hand on my chest and told me to relax, that I'd had an accident. Do you remember anything?

I remember Annie. I turned a turn to her. Turned my head away from the doctor's light. In a chair against the wall, Annie's backpack sat mud-crusted and zipped closed. Uh-huh. Is Annie important? Can you remember why? Pete Murphy.

Annie in the light she summoned from within. The power. How she'd laughed off all my warnings. Never concerned for her own safety. How she'd always seemed tired. Never smiling with her whole heart, but always given me anything I'd asked for. How she'd always seemed to know more about strength in survival than I ever did. I remembered the string of shitty boyfriends she ran through,

how they never popped back into her life the way shitty boyfriends always did. Once they were gone, they stayed gone. The shadow man and his offspring. The evil I saw there. Annie, so strong and special, always shutting it down. Always somehow doing better than I was. She always found a way. For herself and now for me. I finally clicked. She never needed me. All my strength, my mass, my momentum. I'd always needed her.

Always. Everything else? I remember everything. Our next story is coming right up. But first, a word from Mint Mobile. If you're still using one of the big wireless providers in 2019, have you asked yourself what you're paying for? Between expensive retail stores and hidden.

and fees you're being taken advantage of because they know you'll pay. Mint Mobile provides the same premium network coverage you're used to, but at a fraction of the cost because Mint Mobile saves on retail locations and overhead, then passes those savings directly to you. We just finished a nationwide tour of the U.S. and phones using Mint Mobile always had strong signals no matter where we were. Mint Mobile makes it easy to cut your wireless bill down to just 15 bucks a month with every plan including unlimited nationwide talk and text. With Mint Mobile, stop paying for unlimited data you'll never use. Choose between plans with three, eight or 12 gigabytes of 4GLTE data. Use your own phone with any Mint Mobile plan and keep your same phone

number along with all your existing contacts. To get your new wireless plan for just 15 bucks a month and get the plan shipped to your door for free, go to mintmobile.com slash no sleep. That's M-I-N-T-Mobile.com slash no sleep. Cut your wireless bill to $15 a month at mintmobile.com slash no sleep. And now, back to the show. The term transcranial magnetic stimulation might not be a familiar one to everyone. It's a non-invasive technique in which parts of the brain are magnetically stimulated to improve symptoms of depression and OCD, among other things.

That's what the professor in this tale, shared with us by, author John Foster is experimenting with. Only this professor's experiment leads to some unexpected results. Performing this tale are Jeff Clement, Matthew Bradford, and Andy Cresswell. So let this be a lesson to you. Just because something might produce surprising results doesn't mean it's a good idea to replicate it again and again, at least not when it leads to the incidental discovery of the paranormal. Transcranial magnetic stimulation, TMS for short, is the process of using a high-powered magnetic wand to affect brain function in specific locations. The process works by disrupting the electric signals traveling in the brain that tell when to fire. The result of this is a disruption

in the function of that region of the brain, resulting in the impairment of the ability associated with that region. This has been used as a safe way to determine brain region functionality through the benign stimulation of brain lesions and damage. The process is also used to alter mood and alleviate depressive episodes. I fell in love with the process in my senior year of college when I heard about it during a neuroscience lecture. Seeing the process in action only furthered my interest in it. Limitless potential and advancements to be made all from a handheld electromagnet. I had to hold off indulging in this fantasy until I was actually allowed to run the machinery myself, which was six years after I had first heard of it. With a newly received PhD,

a position at a well-off private school, and my own lab to operate, I was free to explore the process to my funding's content. I started off just testing the machine, getting a feel for the whole thing, with plenty of students to rely on, I knew that participants would not be an issue. Once some of the more research-interested students took part in the tests, they were all asking to work in the lab. Not wanting to get the place crowded, I took on only two students, Peter and Susan. They were both freshmen at the university, and both knew well enough that working with a professor was a good way of getting noticed for postgraduate education. I was happier to know that I would have two constant subjects that could provide a more stable source of data. A few months into working with me, I decided to finally start teaching them how to run the machines themselves,

figuring it would be a good way of convincing the department to allocate funding towards getting a second machine. Susan got the hang of it fairly quickly, while Peter was a bit slow to take to it. Then they both began to learn which areas would have what effect when the wand was placed on them. A couple months later, and they were trained enough to perform the tests on their own. Not that I would allow them, though. I was not going to run the risk of anything happening in the machine while I was not in the room. The first incident occurred a couple of weeks after I had finished teaching them how to operate the machine. I was at my computer finishing grading some tests while Susan practiced using the wand on Peter.

They were both enjoying watching as Peter suddenly could not write anymore or lost the ability to spend. speak clearly, only to have it stop with a quick move of the wand. I had completely zoned out while reading through essays when I noticed that they had stopped talking. All I could hear was Peter whispering something to himself. Figuring Susan had hit on a spot I hadn't before, I went over to see what was going on. From what I could gather from Peter's whispers, he was having some sort of hallucination. I wasn't able to make out what he was saying, so I'd I told Susan to switch the machine off.

I squatted down in front of Peter so I could look at his eyes. His pupils were slowly contracting from an excessively dilated state. Peter? Peter, can you hear me? What's going on? He shook his head slightly and groaned. His eyes focused on me and then looked around the room. It saw something, Dr. Matthews.

It was really blurry and out of focus. Dark, too. but it suddenly appeared out of nowhere. I had never seen nor read about anything like this happening before with TMS. At the time, I figured that Susan had just managed to hit on some spot on the visual cortex and caused Peter to hallucinate the shape that he saw. I gave Peter the once over to make sure that he was all right and told the two of them that they could go home for the day.

Once the two of them had left, I sat down at the machine's computer and looked over the data on Peter's test. I moved through the scan of his brain following the path of the wand, up to the place where it had stopped. As I had thought, it did indeed linger on the visual cortex. But I had never seen any report on hallucinations caused by TMS. The waves shouldn't have been able to penetrate deep enough to cause something like that to happen. I marked the spot that appeared to cause the hallucination, all the while thinking about what it could mean. and the possibility of a breakthrough discovery that would make my name known in the field.

I decided to call the spot the Matthews node. A few days later, I met with a colleague of mine, Dr. Richard Brumbaw for lunch. Richard was fascinated by anything to do with fringe science, most of which I regarded as pseudoscience, but he was a well-respected member of the university regardless of his views. I told him what had happened with Peter during the last session with the machine. Throughout my telling of the story, he sat quietly, only nodding to indicate his interest. Once I was done, he leaned over the table and began talking to me in a hushed tone. Listen to me, Frank.

I think you're crossing the threshold of something here, something beyond the veil of the known sciences. Things like what that young man saw are very similar to things that have been more. written about throughout the centuries. Things that lurk where we cannot see. Things from other worlds, other dimensions. A link could have been found to something that until now had always been written off as myth. If what you are saying is true and the boy is to be believed, well, it could be something bigger than anything you could have imagined going in. I'm sorry, Richard, but Peter clearly just had a hallucination. There could have been plenty of things that it could have caused it to happen, and just mere coincidence that had happened during the test. Well, if you're so sure it was something

in his own mind, then let me come and sit in the next time you decide to run it. Hell, I'll even let you do it on me. That way, we will both know for sure who was right. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. I didn't want Richard to worry Peter and Susan with his theories. But at the same time, it didn't feel right to just ignore what had happened, both as a scientist and as being responsible for anything that happens in the lab. I stood together my things. All right, we can do it in a few days. I'll email you when I know the time.

I walked out the door without looking back. The day Richard was to sit in on the test came quickly. I wasn't sure that I was even prepared for what could happen. Everything was set up as usual. Susan and Peter were present as well, though Peter looked somewhat hesitant about the test. Richard came in, greeted the two students, and sat in the chair by the machine.

He looked eager to get things started, and I felt eager, hoping that this would prove him wrong. Ready when you are, Frank? Richard smiled, rubbing his hands together like a kid in a candy store. And do promise to actually put merit in what I see. say contrary to what some may think, I am a man of science. I'm not about to just start lying just to prove you wrong. Just sit back and relax, Richard. I want to know the truth behind this as much as you do. I'll trust you. I placed a thin cap on Richard's head, finished the setup of the machine,

and went about locating the Matthews node on the brain scan that corresponded to the one from Peters. Once I had a rough estimate of where it should be, I'd turned the wand on and began moving it around Richard's head. All right, tell me if you start to see anything, and let me know if you need to stop at any time. I continued to move the wand around the Matthews node, and Richard remained quiet. I peered over to look at his face,

and his eyes moved up to meet mine. He gave a smile. After five minutes of slowly covering every centimeter of the all-refering, small enough area. I was about ready to end it, relieved to say that I was right. Just as I was about to open my mouth, Richard gasped. He lifted his hand and pointed to the corner across from him. In the corner, I see it. Franka, I see it. Richard started to breathe heavily. I went to move the wand away, but his hand shot back and stopped me. No, no. Frank, leave it.

There's... There's more. More what, Richard? You've seen what you needed to, so let's stop this. I heard a gasp next to me. I looked over and saw Peter stepping away. Dr. Matthews, I see that thing again. I started to panic.

I tried to pull the wand away, but Richard had a strong hold on my hand, strong enough to start hurting. Richard, that is enough. Let go now. This is over. But he didn't seem to notice me. Richard wasn't making any sound anymore. And Peter began to scream.

I turned to look at Susan. She stood there, stock still. Susan! Susan, turn the machine off! It took her a few moments to register what I was saying. She ran over and started unplugging wires. The monitor on the machine went black as Peter fell to the floor, and Richard slumped down in the chair.

I dropped the wand out of the floor and ran around the chair to Richard. His eyes were closed, and his mouth was agape. I grabbed his shoulders and shook him, but he didn't wake up. I checked his pulse. He was still alive. I looked over to Susan, who was still alive. doing the same to Peter. Call 911.

She walked out of the room and I went over to Peter. Susan had flipped him over. His face was frozen in a contortion of terror. Small droplets of blood had collected in the corners of his eyes. I stood up, picked the wand up off the floor, and stared at it until the emergency services arrived. Richard was released from the hospital after a couple of days. The doctors didn't find anything wrong with him, and they figured there must

have been a malfunction with the machine, and it had given him a powerful shock. Peter went into a coma after the test. They figured that he had had an aneurysm based off of what they had found. The doctors had no idea how long the coma would last, or even if he would wake up at all. I felt fully responsible for what had happened. After the first incident with Peter, I should have just left everything well enough alone. But all I could think about at the time was the fame that would have come with it.

Of course, once the university had found out what had happened, they closed my lab. Due to the medical reports and the lack of information Susan would give me, I was surprised to find the school hadn't actually fired me, allowing me to continue teaching until they could figure out what had happened with the machine. I caught up with Richard not long after he had gotten out of the hospital.

I met him in his office, as I needed to know what had happened, what he had seen. It was... It was surreal, Frank. That's all I can really say about it. His face turned pale at the thought of it all, turning his attention away from the letter he had been writing. Well, what did you see? You must have seen something. Was it the same thing Peter saw?

I don't know what the boy saw, but I hope for his sake it wasn't the same thing I saw. And I would encourage you, Dr. Matthews, to stay far away from that line of research and cease all thoughts of future endeavors immediately. Surely, whatever it was couldn't have been that dangerous. It was all just visions, your mind playing tricks on you. Nothing more than that.

No, no. What I saw was no mere illusion. If I were to theorize about it, I would say whatever part of the brain that TMS interfered with, it evolved to protect humanity from whatever those things were that the boy and I saw. Some things weren't meant to be seen, Frank. Things out there that have been long forgotten,

things that are better left in the realm of myths and legend. Do you hear yourself? Richard, if what you're saying is true, it's what you've spent your career looking for. Now that you have it, you're just going to let it go? Yes, I am, and you should too. Like I said, some things are better left in the dark. Now, please leave me. I have work to do.

He looked back down. and continued his letter in earnest. I stared at Richard for what felt like an hour, surprise preventing me from doing anything. I finally broke out of my stupor and walked out, shutting the door behind me. I stood in the hallway, wondering what it was he really saw.

What could make a man like him give up on everything so easily? They found Richard dead, a month later. He stopped showing up to his lectures, and after a couple of days of hearing nothing from him, the school went to search his office. The doctors say it was a stroke,

but he was sitting in his office writing, and it just suddenly happened. He was old, not the healthiest. They weren't too surprised. As for what he was writing, no one could make it out. The stroke appeared to have hit his motor, functions in his writing hand, causing everything to be made illegible.

Even still, Peter remained in the coma. The doctor still had no idea how it would go. Susan had dropped out of the semester, though I couldn't blame her for that. She and Peter had grown close over the few months in the lab, and she had been taking the whole thing hard. After Richard's death, I wasn't able to cope with things anymore. I decided that I needed to know what had happened to them, what they had seen. Neither of them would be able to tell me now.

So I had to find it out on my own. A few nights after Richard's body was found, I went to my lab on campus. The text that had been working on the machine were all gone and no one else was around. I loaded up a scan of my brain and found the Matthews node that I needed to hit. I turned the magnet on and sat in the chair. I took a deep breath and started moving the wand around the back of my head. As soon as the wand hit the spot, the room dimmed. I felt my body lock up, my arms no longer obeying me.

Slowly from the darkness that had fallen on the corner of the room, thick, inky tendrils began to move out, spreading a cold. cross the floor. My heart began beating faster as I tried fruitlessly to move my arms. I had realized now how grave an error I had made by doing this. I hadn't learnt from what I had seen. As the tendrils stretched further out, their owners began to be pulled out. There were three of them, all made from the same abyssal black substance as the tendrils that moved them. One was tall and featureless, hunching over in the room, long arms reaching to the ground. Its thin frame pressed against the ceiling, falling bits of plaster betraying the unexpected strength in its emaciated body.

Another was short and fat. A cavernous mouth split the face open with a purple bulbous tongue, constantly running over rows of large flat. teeth. The final one was a writhing mass of tendrils, all sliding over in between one another like a pit of snakes. A yellow eye with a slit pupil appeared in the gaps of the mass. The three fixed their attention on me. Time seems to have slowed down, either from fear or some force given off by these beings. The fat one began to move its mouth. the tongue relaxing and contracting. I realized that it must have been trying to make some kind of sound,

but one I was unable to hear. I reasoned that since I was only seeing them due to the stimulation of my visual cortex, then that was the only modality I could sense them in. They must have realized something similar, as not long after, the tall one reached over to grab my hand and move the once the wand, left the area. I could no longer see them, but they still knew of me. It moved the wand up to the top of my head, where the somatosensory cortex is, allowing me to sense them. As soon as it reached the area, my hand began to burn with an icy fire. The darkness of the thing was so unnatural

that it made it feel as though it were forcing my skin away from it. My body, clenched and I grimaced. The thing lingered there for a while before moving down to the auditory cortex. When it arrived at its destination, I was overwhelmed with a crushing sound of absolute external silence. I heard the sounds of my body panicking, though. The blood rushing through my veins and the thunderous applause of my heart reaching its limit. That suffering was soon replaced by a greater one. A deep and monstrous rumbling flooded my ears, mixed with wet slurping and clacking teeth.

I could make out what I could only assume were words from the sickening cacophony. They sounded old, a language so ancient and forgotten that perhaps no memory of it remained. The alien language continued, and I could feel it. pushing into my mind. My psyche screamed, pained by a language it was not meant to hear. I squirmed in agony as the voice began to change, and the sharp pains of the strange words began to dull and soften.

I soon realized that I was hearing that old tongue no longer. The words in my ear were more modern. I could understand what it was telling me. The dissonance of something like those things, making sounds that were so painfully human, was too much to bear. I could feel my mind slowing down, the room growing dark. I tried to adjust myself to stay seated, but I still had no control over my body. As the world began to fade away, my tenuous grip on reality floating away from me. I felt the wand drop onto my head.

and fall to the floor. And then I was in darkness. In the hospital a few days later. My head ached and my body felt fatigued. At first, my memory of the event was hazy, a portrait of the events covered by frosted glass. It wasn't long before I could recall what had happened. The machine, the creatures I had seen.

I told the doctors that I couldn't remember anything. If I told them the truth, I'd only have to spend more time having tests run on me. No one would believe what I had seen, and I wasn't sure if they actually could. When I was discharged, I went straight back to the university. The only thing I could do to make amends for what I had caused would be to destroy all of my research. Richard was right. I should have gotten rid of all of it weeks ago,

but my pride wouldn't allow it. As I exited the stairwell, I looked down the hallway towards my lab and saw a man in a suit walking out with a box. I ran towards the door as he reached the other end of the hallway. My office had been ransacked. Everything was gone. The machine, the computers, all of my work on TMS.

Nothing was left. I looked out the window to see the man load the box onto a van before driving away. I dropped down onto my knees and put my head in my hands. I recount this now as a confession. I pushed the boundaries of science, and in doing so let my toe cross that line just a little bit. Evolution allows for things to advance, to give protection that ensures survival.

We evolved to protect ourselves from these things. They could only harm us if we could perceive them. I wouldn't even want to explore the possibilities that could come from harnessing them. Whatever is to come from unlocking the secrets that kept them hidden from us. I take full responsibility. And that guilt is too much for my shoulders to bear like it was for Richard. Finally, I speak this as a warning. Because just as I was losing consciousness in the lab, the thing that was talking was able to reach the English.

language and all it was saying over and over. 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. you for listening. Join us at the video store next week. Our door is always open. This audio production is Copyright 2019 by Creative Reason Media, Inc., all rights reserved. The copyrights for

each story are held by the respective authors. No duplication or reproduction of this audio program is permitted without the written consent of Creative Reason Media Inc.