The NoSleep Podcast - NoSleep Podcast S5E20

Episode Date: July 12, 2015

It's episode 20 of Season 5. We have six tales this week featuring stories about otherworldly creatures and the devil incarnate. The full episode features the following stories. The free version features only the first three tales. "Need Not Apply" written by Ryan Grind and read by Jesse Cornett & Alexis Bristowe. (Story starts at 00:04:45) "The Real 'Men in Black'" written by C.M. Monroe and read by Alexis Bristowe & Erika Sanderson. (Story starts at 00:16:20) "My Grandfather's Last Story" written by Michael Marks and read by David Cummings & Jesse Cornett. (Story starts at 00:28:00) "My Girlfriend's Loving Limbs" written by John Contad and read by Aiko van Wingerden & Jessica McEvoy. (Story starts at 00:55:50) "Grayson's Statement" written by Matt Dymerski and read by Jesse Cornett & David Cummings. (Story starts at 01:16:35) "She Beneath the Tree" written by Michael Marks and read by Peter Lewis & David Cummings & Alexis Bristowe. (Story starts at 01:42:35) Click here to enter the Devils in the Dark audiobook contest Click here help out the Tales to Terrify podcast Click here to learn more about Ryan Grind Click here to learn more about Michael Marks Click here to learn more about John Contad Click here to learn more about Matt Dymerski Click here to learn more about Jesse Cornett Click here to email Alexis Bristowe Click here to learn more about Aiko van Wingerden Click here to learn more about Peter Lewis Podcast produced by: David Cummings Music & Sound Design by: Brandon Boone & David Cummings "My Grandfather's Last Story" illustration courtesy of Sabu ©2015 - Creative Reason Media - All Rights Reserved - No reproduction or use of this content is permitted without the express written consent of Creative Reason Media. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Warning. This is a horror fiction podcast. Beware. It's intended for mature adults, not the faint of heart. Aware. Join us at your own risk. Close your eyes, tales of horror to frighten and disturb as the sleepless hours take past.

Brace yourself for the no-sleep podcast. Episode 20. the No Sleep Podcast. I'm your host, David Cummings. We have six tales this week, featuring stories about otherworldly creatures and the devil incarnate. It's great to be back with you all this week. I know a lot of our listeners celebrate national holidays around the start of July, so I hope everyone enjoyed themselves. To keep the celebrations going, I think it's time to have another No Sleep. contest. Many of you know the great writing from friend of the show and author Marcus Demanda. And I know you all know the wonderful narration of our very own Jessica McAvoy.

Well, those two have teamed up to create an audiobook version of Marcus's novel entitled Devils in the Dark. It's an engaging novel combining the themes of social media, bullying and the paranormal. It's well suited for both young adults and adults alike. To find out more about how you can enter to win one of the 25 audiobook copies we're giving away, visit contests.com. The nosleeppodcast.com. You'll find out more about the book, and you'll see the trivia question you need to answer to enter the contest. You have until July 25th,

to enter, so check it out and enter soon. A big thanks to both Marcus and Jessica for making this contest possible. I'd like to welcome a new narrator joining the show. All the way from the Netherlands, we welcome Iko von Vingerton. Ico is better known as Sir Aime on his YouTube channel, where he crafts audio productions of many no sleep and creepy past a story. It's great to welcome you to the show, Iko. Thanks for sharing your talent with us. And finally, I want to make our listeners aware of a serious need in our horror audio fiction podcast family.

Many of you know the great work being done by our friends over at Tales to Terrify. They continue to put out excellent shows after the tragic loss of its founder, Larry Santoro. But like many podcasts these days, they're finding the costs involved with producing high-quality shows getting too much to bear. Simply put, unless a lot more people step up and commit to donating to what they do, it's unlikely the show will survive into the fall. So please visit Tales to Terrify.com and consider sending them a bit of love in the form of a donation. Every little bit helps. It would be a shame to lose such a long-running and excellent show. I'm proud to say that the No Sleep podcast is a monthly donor to Tales to Terrify.

I hope you will consider becoming one too. So with that, it's time to kick things off and start the show. In our first tale, we meet a man having a phone interview for a new job. However, as we learn from author Ryan Schwartz, this is a very bizarre and unexpected interview for many reasons, the least of those being the fact that it takes place in the middle of the night. Narrators Jesse Cornett and Alexis Bristow read the tale for us. So if you're looking for work, I think it's safe to say that for this one, you need not apply. phone rang, and I was disoriented. It's like that moment when you fall asleep during the day, then wake up at night, thinking you missed an entire day. I didn't know what time it was, what day

it was, where I was. But I slapped around on the nightstand until I felt the brick, buzzing and lighting up and displaying a restricted number. It was 2.22 in the morning, But despite any gut feeling and sudden alarms going off in my head, I answered the call. I'm not one for enunciation in the middle of the night, so I'm sure I sounded something like that. My tongue was dry and my mouth was tacky, so the caller would just need to deal with it. Thank you for speaking with me. This will only be a 15 to 20 minute phone screen for the position. I shot up, startled by the clear, cheerful tone.

There was something sinister, a down-tuned sound just behind the voice, just at the edge of my hearing. I could feel it. I'd like to begin by discussing your experience a bit, if that's all right. I sat there. The phone was plastered to my ear. I wasn't groggy anymore. I heard what he said. I sat there.

Are you still on the line? Some rustling of papers then the sound of metal screeching and grinding against metal. It made my teeth throb. Appears you are... What? It says here that you are not particularly religious. Is that correct? I don't...

Who is this? Mr. Blake, there will be plenty of time for your own question soon enough, but for now let's keep the focus on you. You are not religious? The religious probing, strangely, put me at ease. This was some witness or Bible telemarketer that just happened to screw up their time zones. It's two in the fucking morning right now. I've worked tomorrow. Can you just take me off your list? You're saying that you do not wish to be considered for the position?

He sounded disappointed. I don't even know what fucking position you're talking about. I was screaming into the phone, and it was a wonder my son hadn't woken up to pop his little head in, or that my wife, sleeping like a rock beside me, hadn't moved once. not even stirred. She had a knack for pretending to sleep when she didn't want to deal with the late-night issues.

Answering, we can't promise your uncooperative attitude won't be taken into consideration. He flipped the switch on the cheery voice, sounding like a saccharine caricature of what the word nice even means. Shall we continue? No. I hung up the phone and put it back down on the nightstand, closing my eyes, but unable to settle.

My mind was swimming. Late night thoughts, insomnia, worry. They've been shadows in the corner of every room I've tried to sleep in for years. The call didn't help. We have other people I need to be speaking with. What the? I grabbed the phone and powered on the screen. Nothing.

There was nothing indicating a call was in progress, but there was the voice leaking from the speakers, or was it leaking from the room itself now? Who? Name is Mitchell, and I'm moving on to the next topic. Every word came out slower and deeper than the last, like someone gradually stopping a record with their finger. I had tunnel vision. Even in the pitch dark, with nothing but the moon streaming in to light a useless patch of carpet,

I felt like the walls were closing in, like I was suffocating on this conversation. But this time, with little resistance, I began to answer. Often, I get... I mean never. What the fuck kind of questions are these? The profanity really isn't helping your chance. but I appreciate the candid response. Mitchell's voice was normal again,

save for that dark feeling, like a sinking chill down my spine. Do you want to die? No, I... I couldn't stop. I suppose I don't want to die. Then you might be the candidate we're looking for. Mitchell cut me on.

off. This time, he wasn't so cheerful. Ice. The words cut like a biting frost. Would you? I don't know. Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes for what felt like no reason at all. The question itself knocked the wind out of me, and suddenly I knew why I was being interviewed. The pills, the failed overdose. my latest attempt at suicide. It had been an application. A life for a life. It has been going on a bit longer than anticipated. So please check your email regularly. Mitchell laughed good-naturedly and hung up the phone to the sound of shrieking violins. The room brightened a bit, or at least I thought it did.

Danielle finally stirred. What's wrong, hon? She sounded apprehensive. Waking up to your husband sitting up in bed at nearly 3 a.m. would do that to a.m. would do that to a person. But I looked at the clock. 2.23. Did you not hear me on the phone? My eyes adjusted, and I could see hers widened. Your phone's downstairs, Nick.

I didn't think I needed to bring it up when I came to bed. She turned on the bedside lamp, and we both immediately shielded our eyes. Eventually, she looked up and finished her thought. You are... You're not holding anything, babe. She was laughing. I wasn't. But I couldn't justify an explanation in my head besides a...

nightmare. I dreamt the phone call. I dreamt Mitchell. I dreamt the hooves that had been barely visible standing in that spot of moonlight on the carpet. So after some fits and starts, we were both back asleep. Morning came to save me from the dark. I woke up at 7 a.m. feeling like death but glad to see the sun. My head swam as I moved like a robot through my routine, making it to the kitchen for pancakes with the little man before Mommy drove him off to school, and I left for a day of wearing a tie and not doing much else. I found my phone, sitting innocently enough on the coffee table.

There were, as I expected, a few emails but nothing recent in the call log. Work email, junk, LinkedIn, and invite. Follow up with Mr. Nick Blake regarding the position. Open. Good morning, Mr. Blake. I'm happy to inform you that after our rather unorthodox phone screen, you have still been chosen as a candidate to move on to the second round of interviews. This interview will be in person, so please give me.

me your availability, and I will try my best to stick to it when I drop by again. I look forward to speaking with you further. Mitchell Oren Starr, founder, CEO. So, have you ever thought about dying? We all see them, those unusual lights in the sky at night. Shooting stars, satellites, planes, they aren't much to get worked up about, but don't tell that to author C. M. Monroe. You see, she and her husband encountered something one night, and as a result, they won't look at the night sky the same way again. narrator Alexis Bristow reads the tale for us, and this one is no Hollywood movie.

This is about the real men in black. Let me start by saying, I'm going to sound crazy. Hell, even I think I sound crazy. You know that feeling you get when something you never imagine would happen to you happens? That inexplicable feeling of shock. That's what I'm feeling right now. I don't expect you to believe me. It's likely no one ever will, but I needed something somewhere that would explain what happened to me if things came to the worst.

So, this is my story for you. I was never the type for scary stories. I'm not afraid to admit that I get scared easily, and that sometimes I exaggerate them. Even now, I'm trying to convince myself that this is the case in all this. It started a little over a week ago. My boyfriend and I had a huge fight one night over his inability to juggle spending time with me and our son versus his work. He's a major lawyer in Washington, D.C., and his work has him constantly busy, most nights being spent in a hotel room during the week, rather than just coming home. We'd had a good night up until that point

As we were coming home from a long overdue dinner with just the two of us The fight in the car got pretty heated Ending with both of us zoning into our own world As I stared out the passenger side window while he drove His eyes never leaving the road in front of him To be fair Deep in my own thoughts I didn't notice it at first

What I was looking at My head was cloudy and hazy-like almost as if I was in a trance. It wasn't until Jake shook my arm, panicked, that I was brought back to reality. And that's when I saw it. I was confused at first, wondering what I was looking at. Jake had brought the car to a complete stop, next to a large field in a neighboring town from our own.

The field, at first sight, appeared empty. Just another old cornfield. But instead of a feeling of... ease at the familiarity. My stomach twisted, unease settling in the pit of my stomach. A quick glance at the sky, and I realized that the usually star-filled galaxy was incredibly bare, pitch black. Figuring there was some sort of an eclipse or something, as I'm not much of an astronomy person, I shook it off. But the feeling of unease remained. Just as I was about to turn back to Jake, I heard the door to the car open.

And before I could stop him, Jake was running out of the car and towards the field. His eyes transfixed on something that seemed to draw him in. Quickly unbuckling my seatbelt, I hopped out of the car, running after him as quickly as I could in the incredibly uncomfortable heels I'd chosen for that night. I'd just about nearly twisted both my ankles when Jake stopped, just at the edge of the cornfield, making my following evening. as I finally caught up to him. I stared at him incredulously, the shock and confusion

making it difficult to speak. Jake, what are you doing? Come on, let's just go home. I frantically grabbed at his arm the look on his face unsettling me. His eyes were dark instead of their usual clear blue, and he looked right past me

as if I didn't even exist. He stood entirely still, not moving an inch as I prodded more. Jake, you're scaring me. Please, let's just go home. The babysitter has to lead by midnight. Let's just go, please. I was desperate now, pulling at him with all my might, but his legs were rooted to the ground like trees. Much to my relief, he finally opened his mouth to speak.

His voice, just a whisper. Kayla, look at that. Do you see that glint? Small light? What is that? Reluctantly, I turned, glancing toward the direction he was facing. I didn't see anything but the darkness and the cornstalks on the ground. I shifted back to Jake, confused. Honey, there was nothing there. Let's just...

But before I could finish, Jake took off again, this time disappearing into the field. Cursing, I slipped off my heels and bolted after him. each lash of corn flipping wildly as I attempted to keep up to his pace. He eventually slowed, and I could feel the sense of panic in my stomach heightened. Just as I reached him, the cornstalks gave way to a small clearing in the middle of a field. And I will never forget, never in my entire life forget what was in the middle of that field. I was the first to move towards it. Both of us were silent as I crept forward, until I was inches of.

from the metal that embedded itself in the ground. It was massive. I'm telling you, in my entire 28 years, I've never seen anything I couldn't explain like this. In the middle of this cornfield was a large metal object. It was shaped almost like a plane, but there was something off about it. The metal itself emitted a red glow,

barely visible unless you were close to it. It wasn't circular, like everything you might read on this stuff. I might have thought it was a jet if I hadn't seen it myself. There were no windows anywhere on this thing, no visible doors, in fact. Really, no visible ways of moving in and out of whatever it was. My hand reached out forward to touch it, almost like a moth drawn to a flame. I couldn't help it. But before I could feel anything, a ringing sounded in my ears,

startling me enough to throw me backwards, my hands cupping my head. We were discovered the next morning. The babysitter had called the police when we didn't show up back at home, and they found our car on the side of the road. The police said that when they found us, we were sitting in a fetal position on the ground, just staring into space. I don't remember any of it.

Now, I'm the type of person to try to forget this kind of thing, despite Jake's pushing from his curiosity, I refuse to talk about it, letting it slip from my mind. But when I sleep, it all comes back to me. I'm waking up every night screaming. I don't know why.

I never remember the dreams. All I know is that they terrify me enough that I spend the rest of the night awake shaking in my own bed. I thought about seeing a therapist, but it wasn't until today that I really, truly believed I was in any danger. Just yesterday morning, as Jake left for work, I was feeding my son.

It was a mostly normal thing, nothing abnormal at all, until they came. Around 9 a.m., there was a knock at the door. At the time, it didn't seem odd how mechanical it sounded. Every knock, the same exact beat. Strading to the front door, I opened it to two. men, both dressed in black suits with long black coats and hats on their heads. They were both incredibly pale, the palest skin I've ever seen. At first I studied their faces, and fear started to creep into my stomach. These men had the exact same face, down to every line. There were no eyebrows,

which struck me as odd, and the little bit of hair they did have didn't look real at all. But what got me the most were the eyes. The eyes were big, way too big. Almost like something out of those cartoons you see on television now. But as they stared at me, I could hear them speaking to me, asking to talk to me privately and let them in my house. Without thinking, I can let them in. almost as if I wasn't controlling myself.

Here's the biggest problem. I don't remember anything past that. I don't know what they asked me. I don't even know when they left. All I know is that every time I try to remember, it's fuzzy and a headache forms at full force. When I think of what I could have said, a remarkable fear comes over me.

A sense of foreboding. I don't think I'm supposed to. to tell anyone, but I'm at my wits end. They've been following me all day when I'm taking my son to a friend of mine's for a play date with her child, to the grocery store, and to the eye doctor. I don't know what they'll do to me, and I'm terrified they'll hurt my son. Jake called and told me he wouldn't be home for most of the week, worth being too backed up or something.

We were in this house alone, and the worst of all, Because the last few words my son spoke to me last night. Mommy, why are the tall men staying in our house? It can be a real privilege to know your grandparents, especially when they're willing to share all the great stories of their long lives. As we discover from author Michael Marks, a young man enjoys his grandfather's tale so much, he gets him to record them so he can listen to them over and over.

It's only when he finds a recording his grandfather made on his own that he learns of a terrifying event from the long ago days of his grandpa's youth. Jesse Cornett joins me for this tale as we hear what the grandfather recorded for his grandson, who realizes it was my grandfather's last story. My grandfather was a fantastic storyteller. I used to love to go over to his house to hear him recount tales of his trips through Asia and the Pacific Islands, or his stories about his time as an infantryman in World War II. They fascinated me so much, in fact, that I began bringing over a small tape recorder when we would go visit him, so I could listen to his stories over and over again. After he passed away, I found myself going back through those tapes and reliving the stories of this amazing man who I was proud to

call my grandpa. The story I came across at the end of one of the last tapes I had was not one I had heard before. He didn't tell it to me in person. In fact, it seemed as if he took my tape recorder at some point and recorded the story himself. It was just for me. My grandfather's strange adventures had taken him all over the world. He'd seen places far and wide. This last story though, the one he couldn't share with me in person, the one that made his voice quiver as he told it, took place on his father's farm when he was only 16 years old. This is the story I'm going to share with you here, exactly as he recorded it. This is a story that I don't usually tell people, but I want to get it off my chest one last time. Before you, you know, before you. This is a story that I don't usually tell people,

but I want to get it off my chest one last time. Before you, I'd only ever told one of my old army buddies, and your grandma, neither of whom I think fully believed me. You, though, you've always had such a thirst for knowledge, for experiences, good and bad. I know you will listen with your ears and your heart, and in the end you'll see the truth of things. I love you, Aaron, and I'm sorry I couldn't tell you this story in person. It would crush me, though, if I had to see a look in your eyes that says you don't believe me either. I just couldn't take that chance.

So, here goes. When I was sixteen, a little younger than you are now, there was a massive storm that rolled in over my parents' farm. My father had left me in charge of the place, as he had gone into town for a few days. This left only me, my mother, and my sister Alice, on the farm, as those black clouds rolled in. I can still hear my father's voice in my head, just as he sounded that day when he left for town. In his gruffest voice, he said to me, Ephraim, you watch your maw and your sister. You're the man of the house while I'm gone. Well, I can even remember the way it felt when he tussled my hair after he said it.

I also remember just how alone I felt watching him leave, a feeling that got much worse later that evening as I watched those dark, Clouds blot out the set in sun and cut an inky blackness across the fading orange light of the sky. Well, of course, I performed my duties, knowing what was coming. I closed and secured all the storm shutters and took the horses into the barn. I made sure I brought in as much of the firewood as I could, and covered the rest as best as possible. Still, even knowing I had performed my tasks to the letter, I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

Something terrible was coming in with that storm, and I knew it. Well, your great-grandma had made a nice stew that night, and we all sat down to eat by candlelight shortly after the rain began to fall. While the wind was howling around the house, shaking the storm shutters and causing an eerie wailing sound outside. Alice, who was ten at the time, seemed to be able to sense that I felt uneasy at the storm. She tried her best to cheer me up as we ate by making faces at me from across the table. She would pull the corners of her mouth down and stick her tongue out at me, a small piece of carrot still hanging from the end.

This started me snickering, and, of course, caught the attention of my mom. Well, I thought we were going to get the evil eye, from her, but instead she joined in the laughter. After a few minutes, we were all making faces at each other and laughing. It broke the tension, and I started to feel better, for the moment, at least. Sadly, this is the last happy memory I have of my family. For laughter was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. The sound made me jump in my seat and stopped us all dead in what we were doing. We all knew instantly that the sound was not some trick of the wind,

and this was confirmed when it repeated only a few moments later. Me and my mother looked at each other, curious about who would be out in that hellish storm we were having. Our nearest neighbor was at least seven or so miles away. My mother thought maybe my father had come home early, and she stood to go and answer the door. I knew better, though. Father wouldn't knock like that. So I motioned for her to sit and walked over to the door myself. I brought my eye up to the people, but could see nothing in the rain and the darkness.

I motioned for my mother to bring me a lantern, and she did rushing it over to the door with her short little steps. I took it from her and told her to step back as I unlanked. the door. As I started to pull it open, I can remember battling with the wind to keep it from flying free from me and swinging open with all the force that nature could muster. A small sliver of lantern light shone through illuminating a bit of the porch, but I couldn't see anyone there. I looked back at my mother, who who shrugged as if to say, well, who knows? Alice stood behind her, hiding, her head peeking out periodically to see what I was doing. Well, suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere and defying the ruthless wind, a crow landed directly in front of the doorstep. It stared up at me with its beady black eyes and caught at me as if it were heralding its arrival.

I opened the door a little bit more, and motioning again for my mother and sister to stay where they were and slipped through onto the porch. The bird still in fearless in front of me, staring up into my eyes. I shone the light around the, the porch and saw nothing, simply the pouring rain just beyond the awning. I was about to turn around and go back inside when suddenly another crow landed on the railing of the porch. It was quickly followed by another, and then another, until they were lining the railing. They all came quickly out of the darkness, all seemingly in defiance of the wild wind that even then whipped around us and cut cold air through my clothes and into my bones. They caught at me one by one in a mass chorus.

Oh my God, it was horrible noise, offensive to my ears. Then all of a sudden a flash of lightning lit up the area beyond the porch, and what I saw sent a shiver down my spine that no chill of the wind could match. Thousands of them. Thousands of crows perched along every place that they could be. The trees were filled with them. The fences covered. from end to end.

They walked along the ground and floated lazily through the air, held aloft by the powerful wind. The thunder followed a few seconds later, and they all began to caw wildly as it roared across the night sky.

Well, this time, they were not heralding their own arrival, but the arrival of something else. Another flash of lightning followed quickly. This time I saw what they were calling out for. A man. A man who had not been there only moments before, standing at the foot of the stairs. He was wearing a long black raincoat and a black hat. I couldn't see his face, even as I moved the lantern in his direction. It was as if the light was scared to touch him, or swallowed up by his mere presence.

No matter what, he remained cloaked in shadow. I know how insane this all sounds, Aaron, but I swear to you, on everything that's good in this world. That's what I saw. I'll tell you, I turned and flung the door open, rushing back into the house and slamming it closed behind me. I shut the latch and every other possible lock on the door. My mother tried to ask me what I saw, but before I could answer, there was another knock on the door. louder this time, more forceful. I pushed my mother and sister behind me, trying to move them away from the door.

Suddenly, it flew open and slammed against the wall. The man stood in the doorway, the light of my lantern still unable to touch him. Crows flew in behind him screeching their terrible sounds as they perched on our furniture and tables. My mother, ever brave with her shock of red hair and defiant eyes, snatched the lantern from my hand and took position in front. Well, she was blocking myself and Alice from whatever had just been. walked into our house uninvited. I remember her screaming at the man to leave, her voice cutting through even the howling wind and rolling thunder. The man moved towards her. He seemed almost as if he were gliding across the floor. He reached out with one long finger and pressed

to her forehead. In an instant, she dropped to the floor, and at that moment I didn't know if she was dead or knocked out or what. I could hear Alice screaming right behind me, but she sounded a million miles away. The man stood over my mother, just staring down at her crumpled form on the floor. I stood in shock for what was likely only seconds, but it felt like years. It wasn't until he spoke that I was snapped back to reality. His voice. He hissed in a voice that seared itself into my brain. Even now, 16.

years after the fact, I can still hear it, as clear as day. Well, I grabbed my sister by the arm and pulled her past the man as quickly as my feet could carry me. The crow screeched and kept flying in through the front door, making it impossible to escape that way. I dragged her up the stairs. Her screams mixing in my ears with that horrid call of the crows at our back. I took her into one of the back bedrooms and slammed the door behind us. I moved any and all furniture I could to, you know, to block the door. I think even then I knew it was a wasted effort, but I had to try. Alice was huddled in the corner of the room, crying and calling out from awe. I didn't know what to do.

When I finished making my barricade, I ran over to her and took her in my arms. I could hear crows battering themselves against the front door and cracking the glass of the windows outside the storm shutters. The wind howled even more wildly outside, and the lightning and thunder became more frequent. Well, the man was outside the door now, still hissing out Alice's name. The amount of force slamming against that door was tremendous. It sounded like a battering ram was crashing against it. Well, it didn't take long for the door to be flung open, and my barricade pushed aside like it was nothing but paper.

The man stood in the doorway of the room, staring at us, still cloaked in the shadow. He approached again, that inhuman, gliding motion, bringing him even closer. I could feel the hair on my arm stand up as he got near. Every time he hissed Alice's name again, it felt like my mind was unraveled. She was avelin. Pressed her face against my chest, sobbing wildly. I looked up at this horrible thing that stood above us. His eyes, Aaron.

I could finally see something other than the shadow, and it was his eyes. They were electric blue. They seemed to be made out of the storm themselves. I don't know how else to describe it. I knew in that moment that the chaos outside, the crows, and this man in his wide-brim hat and black raincoat were the same. All part of one unstoppable force. He reached down towards me

With that same long finger that touched my mother I felt it press against my forehead Cold as the grave It sent what felt like a shock through my brain And I blacked owls To my father shaken me Alice was no longer in my arms. I had lost her.

I had failed to protect my baby sister. At first I tried to tell people what had happened, but no one would believe me. They thought I made it all up. My mother was no help either. After that night, she never spoke. again. The doctor said she was comatose due to the shock. Her red hair had gone white. The official story was that during the chaos of the storm, Alice had gotten scared and run off,

and I had failed to watch her properly. No one ever found any crows. No one ever found any crows, not even any crow feathers. The latches on the doors were broken, but they blamed the wind. Can you believe that? They blame the goddamn wind! My father blamed me for the loss of his only daughter. He'd never been one to spare the rod,

but after Alice disappeared, and my mother ended up in her state. He beat me and drank all the time. A year later, I lied about my age and I joined up with the army. I needed to leave that place. Too much fear. Too much guilt and too much pain. I thought fighting in the war would help me work through it.

give me something else to think about. It didn't, though. I saw his eyes in the face of every man I shot. Heard Alice's screams in the screams of every man, woman and child caught in the crossfire. I even thought I saw him during that chaos more than once, standing there drinking it in like some kind of horrible vampire. I could feel him and hear his horrible hissing when we heard about the death camps.

Has always been with me. Since that night, following me, a tinge of darkness, a blotch in every light. My mother and father both passed away while I was overseas. I never spoke to them again after I left. Suppose the guilt and the anger were too much for me. It's something I truly regrets. I'm sorry, Aaron, but I know I won't be around much. longer and I'm scared. I'm scared that all that's waiting for me on the other side is those

horrible electric blue eyes wrapped in darkness. I love you with all my heart. This is where the tape clicked off. When I first heard it, I sat in shock for a long time. My grandfather's stories were always wild, always interesting, always powerful, and most importantly, always true. I never doubted that. I hope wherever he may be now, it's not where he feared he would be. I hope he's in a place of light, or at least at total peace. I don't know why he chose to share this with me at the end, to share something so traumatic. so terrifying.

It's unraveled a lot of what I thought I knew about the world and about him. I can't understand how horrible it must have been for him to carry that around with him. And honestly, I hope I never do. Our episode has come to an end. Thank you for spending time with us at the No Sleep Podcast. If you would like to learn how you can hear the full-length version of this, episode featuring many more stories. Please visit the no sleeppodcast.com and click on the season pass link. Purchasing a season pass will help support everyone who contributes to the podcast,

and in return you'll get 25 full-length episodes and three exclusive bonus episodes, all for only 1999. This is David Cummings. Thank you for listening, and join us again next week. for the next episode of the No Sleep Podcast.