The NoSleep Podcast - NoSleep Podcast S14E04

Episode Date: March 8, 2020

It’s Episode 04 of Season 14. This week we conjure spells for you about the mysterious impermanence of death. “A Date With Uncle Wiggily” written by Brady Bloomfield (Story starts around 00:06:00) Produced by: Phil Michalski Cast: Narrator – Atticus Jackson “Zwergin Pond” written by Mark Nixon (Story starts around 00:38:10) Produced by: Jeff Clement Cast: Julian – David Ault, Charlie – Andy Cresswell, Girl – Erika Sanderson, Nicolas – David Cummings “Bells” written by Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Hiya, I'm Penny Scott Andrews, voice actor for the No Sleep Podcasts. There are a lot of stressful, worrying things going on in the world right now. In an age of 24-7 social media, it's all too easy to stay connected all the time and let it all get on top of you. It's important to keep up to date with current events, of course, but it's also important to take time out for self-care. But in our digital environment, sometimes that can be easier said than done. You promise yourself a break, some me time, but you get real back in by reading just one more headline or just doing one more task or just putting off your self-care break for one more day. And then before you know it, you're facing burnout and needing help to even be able to take that self-care time. Thankfully, there are ways to get help and talk to someone who can guide you.

to better look after yourself. That's where services like BetterHelp can step in. If you need someone to talk to or just to listen, they're a great option. BetterHelp 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.

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So whenever you need some help, visit betterhelp.com slash no sleep and join the over 500,000 people taking charge their mental health with the help of an experienced professional. No Sleep listeners get 10% off your first person. month at betterhelp.com slash no sleep. So even though the world can be a scary place and it's always important to keep up to speed with the things we face in our daily life, there's nothing to be ashamed of about looking after yourself too. And even though it's called self-care, you don't have to do it alone. You can accept a helping hand. Services like Better Help can offer just that. So remember, reach out that helping hand by visiting BetterHelp.com slash no sleep to get 10% off your first month.

In our world, there is magic in the darkness. Sorcery and incantations which bring us closer to the essence of the night. Come enter our black magic shop, where we will conjure up tales to frighten and disturb. This journey will be spellbinding. Brace yourself for the No Sleep Podcast. Welcome visitors to the No Sleep Magic Shop. I'm your proprietor, David Cummings. This week we conjure spells for you about the mysterious impermanence of death.

We here at the podcast like to make sure our great writers get the attention they deserve, so I'd like to spotlight two of our authors this week. First, a big congratulations goes out to Gemma Amour for being seen. selected as a finalist for the prestigious Stoker Awards for her novel, Dear Laura, in the category Superior Achievement in a First novel. It's quite an honor, so we wish Gemma the best of luck. And if even more new reading material is on your mind, I'd like to let you know about a new novel called Face the Music by Mark Tows.

As a two-time contributor to the No Sleep podcast and after inclusion in 20 anthologies and over 30 international magazines, Mark has released his debut collection called Face the Music. Marks always loves stories with a twist, his influencers being the likes of Hitchcock, King, and Po. Mark says he likes to take readers on a ride, but in the end, he wants to throw them from the carriage. Face the Music is a collection of 23 stories that do exactly that.

Both Dear Laura and Face the Music are currently haunting the Amazon charts and are available in both paperback or on Kindle. Check the show notes for more details about both of these excellent novels. And while reading is fine, it's time now for your ears to absorb our horror stories. Now, close your eyes and embrace the magic. In our first tale, we meet a man who's just inherited a house, and one important thing when moving into an old property is checking that the plumbing is up to code. It's also important to explore any strange dark tunnels you might find under the house while doing that inspecting.

And in this tale shared with us by author Bradley Bloomfield, that tunnel contains some mighty strange things related to a series of children's books from the 1900s. Performing this tale is Atticus Jackson. So it's very important that you don't be late for a date with Uncle Wiggly. Uncle Wiggly was a popular children's book character back in the early 1900s. I had never heard about him until a couple of days ago when I discovered a variety of old game pieces underneath the floorboards of my house. There was a leak in the bathroom,

and I had to pull up the tiles and floorboards to see what was going on underneath. I really hoped that I didn't have to replace any of the old copper piping. It had served me well thus far, despite the age. It definitely wasn't up to code. This was an old house, mind you. It had been my grandfather's, and he had left it to me in his will. I just hadn't wanted to pull the whole system apart if I didn't have to, because I knew the copper piping was still fairly sturdy, if not a bit leaky.

But imagine my surprise when, after pulling up the first board that showed signs of water damage, I found a small yellow index card, carefully wrapped around the piping with a piece of faded yellow string. I untied it and looked at what it read. Take a red card and do just as it says. I was extremely confused. I posted the photo on social media, trying to see if anyone knew what the mysterious card could be.

The text looked like it had been meticulously printed out on an old-fashioned typewriter. It wasn't long before I got a response. Uncle Wigley. I decided that, while creepy, it wasn't really anything worth looking into. Perhaps a prank conceived by some previous residence children. I decided to dismiss it as such and proceed with my work as normal. At least, that was until I found the second card. It wasn't too far from the first.

There was more space underneath the house than I had ever thought. Underneath the bathroom, the floor began to slant farther down into the earth. There was an opening large enough for a grown man to comfortably crawl on his hands and knees. The copper plumbing, surprisingly, continued to lead down this new area. My grandfather had never mentioned a crawl space under the floor before, not even in his will after he died. With morbid curiosity, I made up my mind and decided to explore this opening. It wasn't long before I saw the next card. It was red this time, and affixed to the piping with a matching red string.

It read, Hello, little bunny, you're off to the races. You're well on your way. Now continue three paces. What the hell was going on here? Maybe this was too elaborate to be a mere children's prank. I could feel the hairs on my neck and arms starting to stay. at attention. It was cold, wet, and damp underneath my rickety old house. The tunnel was pitch black,

and the light coming in through the hole in my bathroom floor was slowly fading away as I continued further into the tunnel. I knew I shouldn't, but curiosity was getting the better of me. I continued until I saw the next card, tied with yellow string. It read, Once again, take three hops more. Is that the Ski-Zix at your door? I wanted to turn back, but there was only three hops, right? I could vaguely still see the light behind me, trickling down through the floorboards all across the house.

And of course, the hole from whence I had descended into this odd subterranean tunnel. I wasn't far from where the house was. perhaps in between my house and my neighbors. Our neighborhood was, by most accounts, your typical quiet suburb in the Midwest, where most people weren't exactly friendly, but at least cordial. I knew that I would have to turn back eventually, as it would become too dark for me to read the cards. I didn't want to venture further into this place without ample supplies. In case things got bad, I got lost, or I couldn't find my way out.

Could my house have been involved in the Underground Railroad? If so, I could be looking at something perhaps much, much more important than simple bathroom renovations. I began to lose myself in delusions of grandeur until I saw the next card, read this time, hanging from a wooden arch support above my head. The ceiling by this point was about 10 or 15 feet above me, and I no longer had to crawl. I was now standing fully upright, but hadn't even noticed the change as mystified as I was by the strange place I found myself within. The next card read, You'd best turn back, the skeez-ix is near, be a good rabbit, flee now in fear.

Underneath this unnerving rhyme were the words, move five paces back. Before I even had a chance to register what I had read, something flew at me at a remarkable speed. I heard the unmistakable calling of an excited crow, and several of its cold black feathers fell onto the ground beneath where I had been standing. I was already gone. I ran up to where the passageway had started to incline and crawled the rest of the way back to my bathroom. I crawled out of the tunnel, expecting to see the poor bird madly flapping its wings flying. around my bathroom, desperately trying to escape. The door and the window were both closed, so I had thought the creature would be trapped there. But I was alone. I decided very quickly

that the hole to the passage was to be left open until it could better prepare myself for an expedition back down into it. I needed to do more research on the Uncle Wiggly board game itself, find out what the hell of Skeezix was, and buy or gather the necessary supplies in order to fully explore. When I spent the rest of the evening doing this, first learning the basic rules of the game, it was a classic variation on the European Goose game, which involved a race to the finish line on a board of 100 spaces. The red cards could either help or harm you, and the yellow cards were used primarily for forward

progression. The standard playtime of a single game could vary, but was usually about 30 minutes. Each yellow card could move you one to 15 spaces forward, and each red card had a special action, or could potentially move you five spaces back. It reminded me a bit of Candyland, and its many variations that I used to play when I was a child. Uncle Wiggly himself was usually described as a kindly old rabbit with a barbershop striped walking stick, who couldn't move very well due to an infliction of rheumatism. His main antagonist was usually the Pip Seizwa, a rhinoceros-esque bully who was typically accompanied by his mischief-loving cohorts, the crow-like skeezics.

Though a revolving-door myriad of predatory animals were less commonly featured, usually wanting to take a bite out of Uncle Wiggly's ears. These were children's books, mind you. They couldn't get too violent. I wasn't comforted by any of this information. The crow that flew past my head. Did I just imagine it? Was it just an odd coincidence that the card I found mentioned the crow-like skeezics right before the bird nearly attacked me? I felt like I was losing my mind.

I needed to get my head straight. I was determined to go back into that tunnel, damn it. But I wasn't going unarmed. I packed a small drawstring sack with several boxes. bottles of water, some protein bars, a 500-lumin headlamp I had bought last time I went camping, some matches, a good pocket knife to cut the cards down more easily. And finally, a S&W-H-shot 9mm revolver that my grandfather had left me with the house. The next morning when I knew the sun would be shining the brightest through the floorboards, I crawled back in.

The bathroom faced the east side of the property and got plenty of sun. on early in the day. To my surprise and discontentment, there was a new yellow card awaiting me at the exact same place the first one was. It read, you've read all the rules, you know how to play. Uncle saw it all. Can you win today? Someone had placed this here during the night. They were watching me as I was on my computer, researching. They must have seen me there through the cracks and the floorboards, looking at image after image of Uncle Wiggly and his animal friends. This little game had just gotten a lot more serious. Someone was living underneath my house, and they had decided to have a bit of sick fun with me.

It was a good thing had my grandfather's revolver on me. This son of a bitch had been watching me for God knows how long, and if I needed to defend my son. against him to win, then so be it. There was a change to the tunnel today. In messy, bright yellow paint, the previously barren stone floor that descended into darkness was now separated into what looked like giant game spaces. I was currently at one. I decided, perhaps unwisely, to play along, until I could find the bastard that did this.

I looked at the card again, but no further instructions were given until I turned it over. On the back were four simple words, unlike the text on the front, which was still neatly typed out like the cards from yesterday. It was handwritten and sloppy black ink. Move forward six paces. I took a deep breath to steady myself. My nerves were on fire, and I was sweating. profusely. I was scared, sure, but more than that, I was angry. This was my family's house, and it belonged to me, not some deranged lunatic pretending to be some children's book character

from a hundred years ago. Seven, I found a red card. My pocket knife was in one hand, my gun at my side. I hadn't yet flicked on my headlamp, as it was still fairly easy to see. But I went ahead and did so, just to be cautious. I thought I saw the glint of something metal further down into the passage, but I waved it off his nerves. I didn't know how far ahead of me this guy was. I didn't know if the tunnel continued straight, and at this point I was still on my hands and knees. No sudden moves here. I had to be smart.

The card read, I don't know about you, but I know what I saw. Move four more spaces, but beware Pip Saiswa. Eleven. This was easy. I was growing cocky. If my intruder thought he was going to scare me, it was wrong. I was unnerved, but there was no way he could recreate anything that resembled a giant rhino in such a cramped space. I turned around for a moment, just to make sure I could still see the hole where I first entered the tunnel.

It was gone. My gaze met solid brick. I had never liked small spaces, but I wouldn't say it was claustrophobic. But this was a new level of trapped, beyond anything I had experienced before. The air suddenly felt stale as it went into my lungs. I was sweating profusely. That's when I noticed a small yellow card, stuck to the middle of the wall with old chewing. him. Tentatively, I pulled it away and read the two measly words that were written on its surface

in capital letters. Wrong way. It was clear to me now that this was no ordinary tunnel. I was dealing with something else, something malevolent and beyond my comprehension. I looked down at my feet and saw that somehow the number I was standing on had changed. changed from an 11 to a 10. I suppose I had incurred a penalty for attempting to turn away, even though my intention in doing so was not to run away. But I wanted to run now. My adrenaline was pumping at full blast, and it was by sheer force of will I remained where I stood,

despite the blaring alarms in my brain, all telling me to get the hell out of there. In my younger years, I had served time in the military. They had trained me fairly well not to immediately give in to my fight or flight, or at least subdue the flight and focus solely on the fight. The only way through this ordeal was forwards. So forwards was the direction I headed. My breaths came in heaves, and I was feeling a bit lightheaded. I fished a bottle of water out of my drawstring pack and took a break at 16.

allow myself a small sip, which helped to steady my nerves immensely. I only wish that it had been whiskey. At 20, I had to instinctively dodge out of the way, rolling forward as a pair of objects inexplicably smashed together where I had just been standing. I had enough clearance on 21 to roll to a full stop, as it was longer than the other spaces I had been walking on before. The floor had continued to slant downwards until night. where it leveled out flat again.

I was glad my reflexes were still working, and once I had caught myself, a whirled around gun at the ready to see what had just tried to kill me. It was a pair of oversized rhino horns, one much longer than the other. If I had been looking where I was going, and the horns closed in front of me,

I could have used the lower one to vault over and through a small opening the two created when fully closed. My headlamp caught the glint of something hanging from a piece of yellow string off on the tip of the upper horn. It was a silver key, and attached to it was my next card. I was now at 21, and after climbing up and cutting down my prize, I slumped down against the wall, exhausted. It was time for me to unwrap and nibble on a protein bar as I read the next card. It read Save the key

You'll need it later Advance nine more But mine the gator I was baffled by what I had just read But I decided to pocket the key And heed the card's words Unless something even worse happened to me If I did not have it later on

It had a close call just then And honestly I was beginning to think I might die down here This went far far beyond some crazed intruder in a previously undiscovered crawl space. I was now playing for my life, and the gravity of that had not fully hit me until I had nearly been crushed by Pip Seizwa's horns. I looked again at the new card in my hand,

now just one of many that were stored neatly away in my backpack. It was almost as if I felt that holding on to them would somehow make this whole experience more real. I was in the middle of a nightmare. I had lost my mind. I had died. It was now being judged in some ridiculous version of purgatory. All of these were better explanations than what I was actually experiencing. The truth was, sometimes things just shouldn't be uncovered.

Why I had decided to renovate the plumbing in the first place was beyond me. I could have lived with a bit of black mold, some safety fines for code violations, easy. After I'd gotten out of the army, this was exactly the kind of thing I wanted to avoid. I had no spouse, no children, not even a pet. I didn't want for much. I had no one to answer to or worry for. I was the perfect target. I realized for whatever had gotten a hold of me.

and now wouldn't let me go. The spaces were longer apart now. If I looked up, I could no longer see any indication of a ceiling above me. It had started inclining after the rhino horns. I can't tell you how long I had been walking. And the commotion earlier, I'd somehow lost my wristwatch. I estimated it had been about a half an hour, maybe an hour since 21. I was now at 28.

I made it a point to be a lot more observant of my surroundings, so it wasn't too much of a surprise when, at 30, I stumbled upon a tall metal safe in the floor. It was skinny and only took up about half of 30 space. I took out the key in my pocket almost immediately and heard a satisfying click as it readily turned into place. Inside of the safe was a single item, a blue umbrella with a hooked handle.

It looked exactly like the one I had seen in photos of old Uncle Wiggly books. Something turned in my stomach as I realized what it was for, too. In one story, Uncle Wiggly used an umbrella just like the one I now held in my hands to fend off one of his tormentors, who was, at the moment, trying to take a large chunk out of his ear. No. I dared to speak out loud. Not to anyone in particular. I had a good idea of what I was about to have to do.

There was a red card tied neatly to the umbrella. It read. Whether you lose your left or lose your right, you'll lose one or the other in your upcoming plight. No spaces to move. Beyond me was nothing but darkness. The crudely painted gameboard spaces had been replaced with red arrows, and the path now diverged into three different tunnels. Left, center, right.

Suddenly I heard a deep croaking coming from the center tunnel. Two yellow eyes, small at first, but quickly becoming as large and bright as headlights. Two slits of pupils gazed hungrily at me. boring into my soul, predator, to prey. I had three options, and I had to choose quickly. The light from my headlamp allowed me to better distinguish the creature quickly approaching me. It walked on hind legs and was covered in pale green scales from head to toe. It had long appendages with viciously sharp claws protruding forward, facing me.

I pulled my revolver on it and fired twice, aiming once for the heart and once for the brain. I knew it would be a futile attempt, but it felt damn good to see the monster halt in its approach, surprised both at the sound and the sudden flash of light. My ears rang and holstering my revolver once more. I grabbed at the umbrella and ran straight at the creature. I opened it right in his mouth, just as I had seen Uncle Wiggly do in the books. and was surprised when it worked. I caught a nasty slash on my right shoulder from his claws,

so I veered immediately to the left tunnel and began running. He must have grabbed the umbrella, cast it aside, because before I began darting away, the bastard caught me in my right ear. Just as the car told me he would. He wasn't too fast. I had done a bit of damage with my umbrella. I think the tip of it went through his mouth.

I pressed my hand to the side of my head, bleeding profusely from my wounds as I felt the strength to carry on leaving my body. But after what seemed like an eternity of running, the tunnel opened back up into a wider passageway, and I dared to look behind me to see the one I had just came from completely vanished from sight. It was here. I cut off a couple strips of my shirt with my pocket knife as I slumped down against the wall to the floor. I looked at the number beneath me, 50. I took the bottle of water I had in my pack and cleaned my wounds. I drank what was left in the bottle and allowed myself in exhale of pain and relief.

I bit off more of a protein bar. It was then I took a better look at my surroundings. I turned off my head lamb because honestly, I didn't need it anymore. The cavernous room I now found myself in was brightly lit with gasoline street lamps. It was a wide open area, perhaps half the size of a football field, covered in cobblestone walkways. Sickly looking flowers of unrecognizable variations littered the sides in neatly placed planters. Hues of crimson and green and pale yellow assaulted my eyes, making me want to vomit. The air was damp and cool here and felt somewhat pleasant.

There was a tiny red brick building in the middle of the cavern, faded with age and overgrown with more of the menacing-looking plants surrounding the area. An old sign hung above the caved inn door, which read 5 and 10-cent store and faded whitewashed paint. If I hadn't lost my mind already, I was pretty sure it was gone then. as I gazed unblinkingly at my surroundings. I didn't move from my position for the longest time. I felt light-headed. I could hardly move.

When I finally got the strength to stand up again, I approached the five-and-ten-cent store with my revolver drawn. I had six shots left, and I had hoped to save each one of them for whatever or whoever had trapped me here. But the store was abandoned when I reached it. Its wooden partition was currently propped up, like it was open for business. There were several cards on the counter awaiting my inspection. One was yellow.

One was blue. And one was red. They read. Blue. Advance to the end, but pay a serious price. The revenge you desire will never suffice. Yellow. Advance 25 spaces and be 25 away.

Your wounds will be healed, but the ear will stay. Red. Take your chance with the Skeezix and interrupt their roost. From whence you came will be where you'll lose. The least of the three evils seem to be the yellow card. The blue card tempted me. Oh, how it tempted me. But I didn't want to admit defeat, nor did I want to fight any goddamn crows.

I'd already fended off an anthropomorphic gator that had nearly ripped me in half. So I grabbed the yellow card. The wound on my shoulder closed, and I felt immediate relief. I frantically pressed my hand to my ear and was horrified to feel nothing there. The wound had closed, sure, but I was now missing my arm. right ear. There wasn't even a hole there anymore. Just smooth skin. I wasn't happy. I was exhausted and broken. I wished I had never entered that tunnel to begin with. I looked around me and found that my scenery had again changed. I was in complete darkness, so I clicked on my headlamp to

examine my surroundings. I was now standing on Space 75. The path was straightforward, and the spaces were spaced as evenly apart as they had been in the beginning. I began to proceed carefully forwards once more, gun in hand, ready for something to charge at me from the shadows. But nothing came. I was alone again. I wasn't sure if I should be relieved or wary. The numbers were flying below my feet, 76, 77. 78.

The floor began to slant upwards, and shortly after, at 82, I found myself having to crawl on my hands and knees again. I think only sheer force of will drove me forward at this point. I reached 88 and began to sob as I saw something I never thought I would see again. Ahead of me, at 95, was the opening I had first crawled into. I could see the light peeking in through the floorboards into the crawl space underneath my grandfather's house. Oh, my house. I had earned this house.

I reached 100 and exited the tunnel with a triumphant shout. I was done. Miraculously, somehow, perhaps through the grace of God himself. I had survived. awaiting me on the dirt floor of the cross space was a barbershop colored walking stick. Affixed to it was one last yellow note. It read, A gift from your dearest Uncle Wigley for surviving an ordeal most unpleasant and grisly.

I never saw the tunnel again. I had the whole thing sealed up as soon as I could. Sometimes. I still have nightmares about it. But that cane sits in my study to this day. In my missing year reminds me always of what I had to go through to get it. Man, these new glasses I bought from a mysterious store are not right for me. When I put them on, everything looks like corpses,

and posters keep getting replaced by harsh truths. I just wanted a normal pair of prescription specs. I tried to return them, but the store just wasn't having it. Deal with the harsh realities of life, they said. Thankfully, I found a solution that means I'm no longer stuck in this predicament. Warby Parker. Warby Parker is committed to providing exceptional vision care online and in stores, offering eyeglasses, eye-exams, and contact lenses.

Glasses start at $95, including prescription lenses. Sunglasses, progressives, and blue-light lenses are also. available. So here's how it works. I took part in Warby Parker's free home try-on program. They sent me five pairs of glasses free to try on at home for five days. Then, once I'd selected the ones I wanted to keep, I returned the others using the prepaid return shipping label they had also sent me. The only cost was for the glasses I wanted to keep. The first pair were excellent, lovely fit, suited my chiseled face. The second pair, not so much. They were a lovely pair of glasses, but just not right

for me. Pairs three and four, also massive winners. Both very different in style, yet both provide me with a different look for any occasion. And the fifth pair, again, didn't suit me whatsoever. I decided to go with something different, experimental, a new look for me. Unfortunately, the look was so different that the No Sleep podcast team chased me out of the studio, believing me to be a burglar. So those are going back too. But that's the great thing about Warby Parker. I got to experiment with styles that I wouldn't normally entertain for five whole days. I got to receive feedback from others on how they suited me, and I got to spend time with each pair. Pair three, in fact, I was considering sending back until the fourth day when it really clicked that they look great on me.

It's such a smart way to be able to order glasses, something that for those of us who wear them, become an integral part of who we are. And the whole process was so easy. So join me. Try Warby Parker's free home try-on program. Order five pairs of glasses to try at home for free for five days. There's no obligation to buy. They ship for free and include a prepaid return shipping label. Try five pairs of glasses at home for free with Warby Parker.com slash no sleep. That's Warby, W-A-R-B-Y, Parker.com slash no sleep. A backpacking trip to Germany is just what's needed if you're suffering from the aftermath of a bad breakup. Just you, a friend, and the friendly Canadian innkeeper who knows all the local lore.

And in this tale, shared with us by author Mark Nixon, there's an awful lot of that lore, and some of it might have a rather direct connection to the broken-hearted man. Performing this tale with me are David Alt, Andy Cresswell, and Erica Sanderson. So you might be familiar with the legend of Lorel I Rock, but are you familiar with its connection to the legend of, Wurgan Pond. Morning, Mr. Wilson. How'd you sleep?

Oh, um, not bad, thanks. That doesn't sound very convincing. I sure hope the room was okay. Oh, no, no, no, it's very comfortable. I just... Great. You were the first to try out the new mattress. Memory foam, you know. Everybody wants room, too, with it overlooking the hills, so the bed wore out a little quicker than the other four rooms. So, sleep well then.

The bed was really nice. Honestly, I just don't sleep well these days. Did the other person I checked in with come down yet? Mr. Heath? Not yet. No, just you. It's quiet mind, isn't it? Not many guests this week. I think the recent rain deterred most of the other tourists. If you don't mind me saying so, you don't look so good. Are you okay, buddy? Yes, fine, thanks.

Really, though? I don't want to pry, but your eyes are raw red, and despite my comfy betting, you don't look like you've slept at all. Oh, is it that obvious? I own it in. I see every emotion on the spectrum sat in your very chair. If it's not obvious to Joe Public, it's certainly obvious to me. Oh, I'm a mess.

No, not at all. What's up? Come on, I'm essentially a lot. a therapist. Well, Charlie and I, that's my friend upstairs. We came here to help me clear my head. My girl, my ex, and I broke up a couple of weeks ago. Oh, harsh, man. I'm sorry. Thanks. And I say we broke up, but she broke up with me. And it's been it's been hell. Yeah, I see that. The mornings are the worst part. You're just part. You know, You know? You spend hours, and I mean literally hours trying to drift off despite the exhaustion from the grief and the tears and the sheer weight of it all.

You finally drift off and get four to five hours respite, and then you wake still so very tired, and sudden you can't quite remember why your chest hurts and why your eyes are sore. You think, damn, what an awful dream, what an awful, awful, awful. then it hits you. You remember and the grief washes over you and you start the grieving process all over again. I'm sorry, mate. I don't mean to unload like this. No, no, it's okay.

Don't worry about it. I'm just really sorry to hear it. I know that feeling well, as a matter of fact. Yeah. Well, sure. I came to Germany because of Mablon, my girlfriend. I came over, moved in with her,

renounced my Canadian citizenship even, and then she left me. No dramatic reason. We just drifted apart, or so I'm told. So here I am, literally in the hills, manning my very own inn and talking heartbreak with fine men such as yourself. I'm sorry. Oh, don't be. I love it here. But sorry, I hijacked the conversation.

Probably, because I know nothing I can offer can help, right? It feels hopeless right now, like the heartbreak has hollowed you out and left nothing but pain. Am I right? And so I won't delve into cliché or platitudes. All I can do is empathize, offer you a friendly face, and recommend the smoked beer. Once the bar opens, of course. Of course. So, if she ended things, I assume you know why?

And if I'm being too personal, feel free to tell me to mind my own business. Well, yes, sort of. She gave conflicting reasons. All at once? No, first one, then the other, and then another... When you kept asking? Yeah, how do you know? I think we're all guilty of doing it. We're so desperate for answers, for simple problems so we can fix them, or offer to fix them even.

She... She... She made it clear I can't fix the problems, but I just want closure. She kept dancing around different topics. I really need to know what it is for certain. Are you sure? Yes. Buddy, can I be honest?

Please. She's ended it. That's as much closure as you're going to get. You can keep torturing yourself, and probably her, by asking questions, by looking for closure. But you're never going to get an answer. We don't always get closure. We're not owed closure. You seem like a great guy.

I said as much to one of my staff when you checked in. But don't torture yourself like this. Don't let this, the way you feel right now, define you. Enjoy yourself with your buddy. Reconnect with yourself. Christ. I got what you mean, but... Ouch.

That hit deep. Hmm. Told you. I'm essentially a therapist. I can't. can solve many problems, except for Boris Johnson and his hair. That one is for you UK guys to figure out. Thanks.

And now you're laughing. I should be charging you for this. Yeah, maybe, maybe, but yeah, please don't. I've been trying to get my money back on a trip to Canada, believe it or not. I was going to surprise her with it, and yeah, I'm feeling the pinch. Don't worry. You hungry? No, I'm really not.

Oh, here's Charlie. Morning. Morning. Can I tempt you with some breakfast? I have locally sourced bread rolls, smoked ham and salami, and I can scramble an egg to perfection. I'm also offering free therapy this morning. Ah, that breakfast sounds lovely, but no thanks.

I've just scoffed a Kendall mint cake. I really want to get out there now. Clear the cobwebs. Hey, Charlie. You all right, mate? Yeah, thanks. You fucking liar. You look like crap.

Sorry. Well, it's true. You all sorted. Got your gear. Just by the door there. Well, come on then. Those hills won't hike themselves, you know? Okay, okay. Can I at least offer you a stale pumper-nacle for the road?

Christ, you're really selling that option. Well, why not? They're shit. Wow, now I've got to have one. Of course you do. Here, catch. Oh, damn it. I'd still take it. The floor might have given it some flavor. Right, you are? Come on, man.

Coming. So, anyway, you were getting free therapy. Evidently, he's a nice guy, the landlord. You're just letting that heart of yours bleed everywhere. Yeah, well, he figured it out. I'm joking, man. I'm glad you're talking about it, honestly. Yeah, just so you don't have to hear it again.

Well, there is that. But no, did he say anything helpful? Similar to what you've been saying, to be honest. Although he did add a bit about closure. Yeah? Yeah, he said that I'll never really get it, that it's like a shifting goalpost I'll never satisfy. Well, I'd say that's true.

I haven't been much fun, have I? Mate, it's fine. Stop apologising for yourself. We're here. It's uncharacteristically freezing. We're doing something, Matt. Not just that owns stalking her Instagram account. Yeah, well, there's been no signal here.

Good, almost like I planned it. being up here is like setting your life to airplane mode and hey look at that view well it is nice nice flipping gorgeous mate you can see cochum from up here look there's the church uh-huh

and there's not a soul for miles yeah probably because they're inside where it's warm oh come on let's just carry on we need to keep the blood pumping before my balls freeze off Oh, so you are planning to use them again? I'll piss off. Jesus, this wind is fierce. Yeah, do you think we should head back?

We've only been walking about 20 minutes. We could come back when it dies down. And let you drink yourself into oblivion. No way. This is what coming here was all about. Man versus nature. Tell you what, there's a dip coming up. Let's take the lower hills and make.

Maybe we'll be shielded. Come on. Steady now. Ah, there we go. Oh, look. A pond. Oh, yeah. That's weirdly placed, just in between the hills like that and no stream.

Not all water in the hills forms a river, you know. Think of it as a glorified puddle. Well, now it's less exciting. It's a pond, Julian. It was never exciting. Anyway, speaking of puddles, I've got to pee. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What?

You're not doing that here. Oh, come on, mate. How long have we known each other? We're practically brothers. Yeah, and I'd rather not see you piss, thank you very much. Many have. Gross. Prude.

Back in a minute. It's oddly still considering the wind. Deep shit. Oh shit, who's that? Look out! Hey! Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. I'm... It's okay, I guess. I don't see anyone else all day. I climb down here and nearly get twatted with a rock, and buy another Brit, no less.

To be fair, that's hardly big enough to be a rock. And that makes a difference? Oh, categorising most definitely makes a difference. If I threw a pebble at you, then you wouldn't have even known. Oh, well, if you'd actually been aiming for me, then you'd have missed, apparently. Sorry again. Are you sure you're okay? Yeah, of course. You out here on your own?

No, my mate Charlie, is off having a piss over that hill. I'll wait before I head that way, then. You're going that way? We just came from there. The nip of the good stuff? Yeah, yeah, that's the inn we're booked in for a few nights. No way! I'm on my way to check in now.

Thought I'd hike there. That's the huge backpack. Small world. No, there's just nowhere else around. That's true. We came here for a headspace, actually, and that's all that's on offer, really? Oh, God, me too. Really?

Guy trouble. Oh, shit, really? Me too. I mean, I mean, not a guy, a girl, girl, trouble, yeah. Is this your clever way of telling me you're into girls? No, I think. I'm here post-break-up, that's what I meant. Shit, that's a weird thing to say to a stranger. Is that what you mean too? Relax. And not quite. I'd rather not get into it.

Yeah, of course not. That'll be your mate. Yep. Julian, let's keep heading west. I've just spotted a better route. Aren't you going to go after him? I guess I am. Coming!

Well, if you're heading to the inn, maybe I'll see you later, and buy you a drink, maybe. Do you often ask out girls you meet alone in the hills? This would be a first. Me too. accepting, I mean. Wait, you've been asked out while hiking before? You'd be surprised, but yeah.

I'll be up for a drink later. Great, I'll see you tonight then. I'm Julian, by the way. I know. What? Your mate's been shouting it at the top of his lungs. Oh, God, yeah. What did you say your name was?

I didn't. Fair enough. I'll see you later. Bye, Julian. Julian! Oh, there you are. Sorry. Where were you?

I was talking to another hiker. Aha, so she was hot, right? You're smiling, mate. First time I've seen it in a while. That's good, right? Yeah. But, you know, I'd... Don't think I do.

Yeah, you do. I really don't. Rebounds, mate. Remember Manchester? I do. And I know what you mean, don't worry. Well, it's not like you're going to see her again. Actually, she's staying at the inn.

Oh, fuck. I said I'd get her a drink tonight. Cocking hell. I thought you wanted me to get over the... the breakup. Yeah, healthily, naturally. Look, we've got like six hours out here, at least. More than enough time for you to walk off your frustrations. Hey, it wasn't like that. She just seemed cool and she was friendly, she smiled at me. Jesus Christ, let's go. This way, there's a lovely view from the hills. Should calm you down. Go on, say it. Again. Again.

Please. Oh, I swear I'm going to stop telling people I'm Canadian. All right. A boot. Oot and a boot. Maple syrup and moose. Tim Horton's there. E.

Uh, brother. Wah hey! Whoa, whoa, careful. Jaws. Another, Mr. Barkeep. Hmm. You sure? Yep.

Wait, how are you pissed after one pint? It speaks. Very funny. Well, how are you suddenly lightweight? I have no idea. But it's excellent. Well, it's 5% but the altitude and the exercise

usually catches people off guard. Altitude, that bugger. Yeah, and you ate nothing but two Kendall mint cakes all day. Yeah, that'll do it. Oh, which reminds me. Did you guys want to eat? Oh, yes, please. I'm ravenous. I'll be okay for now, thanks.

Oh. Hmm, everything okay? Julian has a date. Oh, great. I mean, that's a surprising development. It's just a drink. Oh, just a drink. Who is this mysterious individual then?

Uh, a guest here, apparently, a girl's this tall brunette. Ah, pretty then? Very. You must have seen her if she's staying here. No, not yet. You were the only ones last night, and there's a few guests for tonight who haven't checked in yet. Actually, there's someone smoking outside or vaping.

Is there? Yep, definitely smoking. Yeah, I think that's her, actually. I'll just nip out. Remember, Julian. Be a smooth talker. Fuck off. Hey, you?

Hey. Come looking for me, have you? No, no, just came for a cigarette, actually. Oh, bugger, must have left them in my room. Mm-hmm. You can have one of mine if you like. No, it's okay. I insist.

Here. Thanks. Sorry. Sorry about it. Honestly, stop trying to impress me. Oh. Oh, I dropped it, sorry. I knew it was a write-off when I offered it.

Sorry. Moon's out. Oh, yeah, it's beautiful. Wow, there's like zero light pollution up here. Well, maybe it's my turn to impress you. Come on. Take my hand. I want to show you something.

Oh, yeah? Where? Not too far. Where we met? Come on. Here we are. The old pot. Did you just take me for a hike in the dark to see a pond that we both saw earlier today in actual daylight? Yeah, but you wouldn't have seen this in the daylight.

Look, see? What am I looking at? Look at the way the moon reflects perfectly on the water. Oh, wow, yeah. Look how calm the surfaces is. Way up here in the hills, the wind blowing above us, and this little piece of tranquility sits here, totally unfazed. It's calm here, isn't it?

Me, you, the pond? Definitely. Were you feeling calm this morning? You looked rough. Girl trouble, wasn't it? Yeah. What happened? Um, she, she ended things.

Oh, sorry. Why? She keeps giving different answers. Just not feeling it then. I suppose not. So, you must have a lot of soul searching to do. Yeah. Grieving.

Yep. And yet, you asked out the first girl who smiled at you. Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, not at all. Well, it's true, isn't it? Rebound much? No, no, that's not fair. Hey, it's all right. Sorry, I'm only pulling your leg. Oh good, I was about to say you were quite forward yourself.

Uh-huh. So, how are you feeling now? With me? Great, thanks. Relaxed. Good. I want you to kiss me. What? You heard me. Well, come here then.

Nah, you come here. Okay, sure. Closer. Are you a good kisser, Julian? I've never had any complaints. Hmm, good. I like boys who are good kisses. This water's cold.

No, no. Eyes up. Don't think about it. Look at me. There we go. That's good. Keep looking at me. Do you know what I do to boys who are good kisses, Julian? I'd love to find out. out. I bet you would. You men are all the fucking same. Wait, what? Where the hell is he? Longest smoke I've ever known. Think he's gone for a walk, seeing the sights.

It's a little cold for that, and there's no sights you'll see better at night than you did during the day. The view really is bloody lovely. Oh, we did see a lovely pond. No fishies, though. Not that I could see anyway. Oh, that'll be Zwergen Pond. Yeah, I'd avoid that if I can. How can? That's too morbid.

A pond? Well, sure. You haven't heard the legend of the Lorelei? I mean, yeah. The siren who sits on the rock and lures men to their deaths. But that's along the Rhine, isn't it? Literally, the rock is called Lorelei. Well, sure, yeah.

And the legend supposedly came about from novels and poems, but I bet you haven't heard all the legends of the Lorelei Rock. One in particular that relates to this pond. Almost nobody knows about it unless they're from the area. I'm lucky, as an outsider, to even be told about it. And maybe I shouldn't even tell you. Oh, go on. Reale me. Okay.

So an old, old legend claimed that a clan of dwarves lived inside caves in the rock. Lorelei emits a hum. Did you know that? Well, I heard something about it. So the lesser-known legend is that the dwarves were digging tunnels deep under the earth, connecting the waters that flow into Lorelei through various openings that were to serve as pathways for the dwarves to sneak out of their caves. and into the country. Rumor has it, they built one tunnel.

Which, let me guess, opened up into Zwergin' pond. Yep, and the tunnel wasn't supposed to be flooded, but then the legend of the maiden Lorelei comes into it. The siren. It said she flooded the tunnels, drowning all the dwarves, and the hum emitted by the rock is the ghost of the dwarves still working in the flooded tunnels. But, and here's the Lord,

The local part, legend has it that the siren, mermaid, whatever she is, uses the tunnel to sometimes appear in Zwergen Pond. And since there have been no sightings of her at Lorelei Rock in many years, people around here think she decided to stay at our little pond, lurking around the pond, waiting to lure men into their watery graves. And they say, as they always do in these sorts of tales, that she remains there still. A beautiful spirit, or mermaid, if you prefer, waiting to lure men into her watery grave. What? For company? No, no, for revenge, buddy. She was betrayed by her lover and threw herself off Lorelei Rock.

And I guess locals around here, they wanted their own version of the legend. So the dwarves dug a tunnel, and the tunnel created Zorgan Pond, and bam, we're the new home, or maybe the vacation spot of Germany's favorite killer mermaid. Jesus Christ. Don't worry. It's just a legend. Nobody's drowned in that pond for years. Not since I've lived here anyway.

It's all nonsense, I'm sure. Yeah, yeah, I'm sure. Well, Julian will be all right. Once he gets back, that is. Of course he will. Let's hope he feels. better soon. Hey.

The spells are wearing off for now, but the magic will linger. The shop will be open again next week with more spells to enchant you. 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. This audio production is copyright 2020 by Creative Reason Media,

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