The NoSleep Podcast - NoSleep Podcast S7E21

Episode Date: August 28, 2016

It's episode 21 of Season 7. On this week's show we have five tales about woeful workplaces, miserable memories, and possession prevention."Sisters in the Snow"* written by James Dominguez and performed by Erika Sanderson & Alexis Bristowe. (Story starts around 00:03:30)"You Are What You Eat"** written by Manen Lyset & Brandon Boone and performed by Dan Zappula & Addison Peacock & James Cleveland. (Story starts around 00:31:30)"Real Life Horror Experience"** written by Vanessa Johansson and performed by Addison Peacock & Nichole Goodnight & Jessica McAvoy & Corinne Sanders & Alexis Bristowe. (Story starts around 01:02:00)"Cubicle Farm"** written by C.M. Scandreth and performed by David Ault & Erika Sanderson & James Cleveland. (Story starts around 01:16:55)"Stolen Tongues - Finale"** written by Felix Blackwell and performed by Mike DelGaudio & Jessica McEvoy. (Story starts around 01:40:25)Click here to learn more about the voice actors on The NoSleep Podcast Click here to learn more about The Deep Vault podcast Click here to learn more about the Neumann TLM 107 microphone Click here to learn more about James Dominguez Click here to learn more about Manen Lyset Click here to learn more about Vanessa Johansson Click here to learn more about C.M. Scandreth Click here to learn more about Felix Blackwell Executive Producer & Host: David CummingsMusical score composed by: Brandon BooneAudio adaptations produced by: David Cummings & Jeff Clement* & Phil Michalski**"You Are What You Eat" illustration courtesy of Jörn HeidrathAudio program ©2016 - 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

Be forewarned, this is a horror fiction podcast. By listening to our stories, you are choosing to be frightened and disturbed for your entertainment. You do so at your own risk. Brace yourself for the No Sleep Podcast. 7. Episode 21. Sisters in the Snow, you are what you meet. Real life horror experience. Cubicle Farm, Stolen Tongues, finale.

It's the No Sleep Podcast. I'm David Cummings. Thanks for joining us. On this week's show, we have five tales about woeful workplaces, miserable memories, and possession prevention. I know many of you have discovered the great audio horror series, Archive 81, from creators Mark Solinger and Dan Powell. Well, they have recently released another series called The Deep Vault, a serialized seven-episode audio drama set in the almost post-apocalyptic United States.

The story follows a group of longtime friends as they journey from the uninhabitable surface world into a mysterious underground bunker in search of safety, shelter, and answers to their past. If you love the excellent writing, voice acting, and stellar audio production of Archive 81, make sure you check out The Dead Vault for a scintillating sci-fi series. And I want to mention something that happened to me recently, which is both a great honor and a bit of a dream come true. If anyone out there is familiar with audio recording and the high-end gear that goes along with it, you'll recognize the name Neumann. The German company is the most revered name in studio microphones for over 80 years. Ever since my days in the recording studios in the 90s, I've been dreaming of owning my own Neumann mic,

and now that's finally happened, and it's due to the extreme generosity of the Neumann Company themselves. They recently sent me one of their newest microphone models, the TLM-107. and I'm so thrilled to have it in my own little home studio. It's the mic I'm using right now. And this isn't some sly bit of product placement. Anyone who knows Noyman, anyone who does any sort of music or spoken word recording, knows what it means to own and use one.

So I send out my sincere thanks to Noyman for the privilege of having their spectacular microphone. I look forward to recording many more terrifying stories. stories through your exquisite design. So we've got the gear, we've got the stories, let's wait no further, and start this week's show. In our first tale, we meet a woman and her grandmother. But as shared by author James Dominguez, after realizing her grandmother has a strange ritual when she's upset, the woman gets her to open up about the events of her past

and the harrowing events which took place for her family many years ago. Performing this tale are Erica Sanderson and Alexis Bristow. So let's listen as we learn about the sisters in the snow. I remember it like it was yesterday, although it was decades ago. My sister and I had been fighting again, like I suspect most sisters do at that age. This fight got more heated than usual. I screamed an obscenity at my sister before turning to storm out of the room, but then my neck suddenly whipped back painfully and I realized she was yanking my hair.

In pain and shock, I spun around and slapped her heart across the face. We didn't often get physical, but when we did, we didn't miss around. I don't know where it would have ended up, how far the violence would have escalated, but suddenly there was Nano. That was what we called my grandmother on my dad's side. She had some kind of dementia, and between that and her thick accent from the old country, she rarely spoke.

She was a small, pale, brittle ghost that lived on the periphery of my life, hardly making an impression. This day was an exception. Showing sudden fierceness, she interposed herself between me and my sister, and looked back and forth at each of us with an expression of fury on her face. She looked hard at my sister's hand, still entangled in my long hair, and then back at her face.

My sister sheepishly let go and dropped her hand to her side. Sisters love! Do not do this! Love your sister! Love! Suddenly the furious mask cracked, slipped and dissolved into grief. Where moments ago had been an expression of pure anger, there was now nothing but sadness and loss. She clasped her small wrinkled hands over her mouth, but I could see her pale, grayish, brown eyes well with tears. Without another word, she turned and hurried out of the room as quickly as her arthritic legs would take her, while her shoulders quivered with silent sobs. My sister and I stared at each other, struck mute by non-nobes.

most double-dip of uncharacteristic anger and uncharacteristic sadness. We stood there stunned and silent for maybe 20 seconds, and then I turned and ran after her. Predictably, Nana was in the kitchen making tea. While she was generally quiet and stayed out of trouble, her tea-making habits were a source of conflict in our household. You see, she could never make one cup. Every time she wanted tea, she would make four cups. then drink only one of them while the other three went cold.

My mother was infuriated by the waste. The economy was not in good shape, and my father's job was on the brink of making him redundant. He was hardly paid enough as it was, but if he lost even that meager income, then it was a source of stress for all of us. Looking back, I wonder if that's why my sister and I fought so bitterly. A fear of scarcity.

Sure enough, Nana was carefully lifting four china tea cups down from the cabinet, and as I walked up beside her, she placed them carefully in the center of the four saucers that were already on the kitchen bench. I heard a soft clink as the fourth one was put in place. Nano, stop. Why don't you sit down? I'll make you tea, okay? She turned to look at me when I spoke, and I saw her eyes had gone vague and dreamy again, as they were most of the time. But then they sharpened, and I could tell she was really seeing me. Why do you fight?

She gently placed one of her incredibly soft hands on my cheek. It was cool against my still anger flushed skin. I didn't have an answer for her. Not back then. So I pressed on. Sit down, Nano. Get comfortable. I'll make the tea while you sit and rest. She threw a worried look down at the four neatly lined up cups

And then looked back at me Her mouth opened as if to object But then, with a nod She shuffled over to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down I didn't want to cause any kind of scene So I quickly and carefully put two of the cups and saucers away While she was distracted Then I put the kettle on the stove

I rinsed the old leaves out of the pot but placed them with fresh leaves from the jar, and then moved closer to Nano while I waited for the water to boil. It'll just be a minute. To me, my forced cheerfulness sounded too obvious to be believed, but she smiled up at me. Thank you, Honor. I had no idea who Anna was, but I smiled back and humored her.

Nothing like a hot cup of tea to make everything feel better, right, Nana? Her smile slipped, and she just... looked confused. Then I saw recognition in her eyes, followed by sadness. I am sorry, little one. You are not honor. She is a long time gone. I forget sometimes. A burbling wine announced that the water was boiled, so I crossed to the stove and twisted the big light knob to the off position. Who was Anna? Um, who was Anna? I suppose. Uh, sorry. Mentally, I was cursing my stupidity, but outwardly I just kept the smile fixed in place and made the tea.

Nano stayed silent until I brought over the steaming pot, followed by the cups and the tea and milk. With everything in place, I sat down opposite and began to pour out the tea. I loved my sisters. Oh, you had sisters? A blush crept across my face. It was embarrassing to realize that I knew almost nothing about her. I didn't even know she had sisters. That's the kind of thing I should have known, right?

I slid her cup of tea across the green firmaica tabletop, and she stared at it for a long while. Then she began to tell me a story. Honor was the eldest. She was short, but she had a tall heart, you know? Her hair was long and black. and curly like yours. I loved her hair.

Mine was ugly, I thought. Not black, not blonde, not brown, not anything. I envied her her glossy black hair. Next was Slavka. She had a great brain. She would read and read. We were very poor, and books cost so much money. but she always found books to read somehow.

She was very kind to me. Then, Uner, sweet Uner. She was prettiest, but not vain. She was funny who made me laugh and laugh. In another place, she would have been a movie star. I said we were poor, but life was good enough. Mother was taken by influenza before I was old enough to remember her, but my sisters were my mother.

Honor was strong, good at making decisions. Salavkar was gentle and caring. Uner was fun and playful. Father worked so hard that I barely saw him, and when he was home, he was always tired. Together, my sisters raised me. We might have gone on that forever if war had not come. I was too young to understand what it was about.

I did not know who our enemies were, and I had no reason to think that not all of the folk in our village were our friends. To some, you see, we were outsiders. They distrusted our kind, considered us intruders in their land. I was an innocent child and I never realized it, but as the building hatred of war crept across the land, the old mistrust grew into something worse.

It was the middle of winter when the soldiers came. Late one night, honor woke me, telling me I must be quiet. I heard a murmuring outside, growing louder as I gathered with my sisters in our small kitchen, cold and dark that winter night. Father had not come home from work, so it was just the four of us. My sisters hissed at me to stay out of sight,

but I peeked out of the window. The soldiers were accompanied by a mob of the townsfolk. The baker who sold us our bread every morning was among them. So was the schoolteacher. They held burning torches and wooden clubs, and their faces were stony, expressionless. The soldiers held guns. As I watched, they kicked in the door of our neighbor's house and ran inside.

There were shouts and screams, and the sharp, pop, pop, pop, pop, of gunshots. The shouts and screams stopped, and I heard Una sobbing quietly. Our neighbors were of the same people as us, and as innocent as I was, I understood that we would be next. Anur took charge, as was her way, bustling us into boots and cloaks and scarves and shawls. We did not have warm overcoats and thick boots, but what choice did we have? As soon as we were ready, Anna led us to the back door.

The noise of the mob had gotten louder, and as she had been, She lifted the latch as quietly as she could. We heard a banging on the front door. Open up, traitors! If you cooperate, we may just arrest you. Without a word, we slipped out into the freezing night. Salafka, clever as always, went back to close the door behind us, so was not to give a clue to our pursuers. Then we were away. Our house backed onto the woods. In the moonlight, the bare trees were like black skeletons clawing at the sky. The moon was almost full, making the fallen snow glow of ghostly pale blue. Anna led, crunching a path for our little feet through the crunchy snow.

Then Unar and me and Slavka came behind. I realized we were heading to Auntie's house. Auntie was once married to my father's older brother, a woodcutter. But he was crushed by a falling tree before they had any children, many years before I was born. As long as I had known her, she had lived alone in a small shack in the woods. Children in our town whispered that she was a witch. But to me, she was just auntie. The snow crackled and squeaked as we ran, and within minutes my poor tiny feet were numb.

My battered hand-me-down shoes were barely adamant. to carry me to marketing back. In the snow, I was little better than barefoot. I whined to Anna to give me a piggyback, but she shushed me. I was going to complain again, but then I heard it. Voices behind us, shouting. Anna tried to increase her speed, but I was slowing the rest of them down. The voices were getting louder, and when I looked back,

I would see a faint orange glow from their torches. It was clever Slavka who realized they were following our fresh footprints. There was no way we could hide our trail, so she suggested we split up. In a small clearing, she suggested that Anur should take me straight to Auntie, but she and Unar should go in different directions and confuse the mob that was chasing us. In the moonlight, I could see that Anur was unsure, but time was short, and she quickly nodded. Run around in circles. She instructed the other two.

Don't give them a clear trail. Get to aunties as quickly as you can after that. Una dashed off to her left. Her golden curls turned silvery by the moon. I heard Anna whisper. Please be careful. Moments later, Slavka was gone as well, heading right. The cold in my feet could not compare

to the icy feeling in my heart as my soul. sisters disappeared into that frosty night. Soon, they were lost to my sight, and the sound of their feet swishing through the snow was swallowed up by the trees. Anur turned to me and asked if I still wanted a piggyback. I nodded enthusiastically, and she knelt down to let me clamber aboard. Then we were away. As I was bounced along, I sank my face into Aner's black ringlets and tried to ignore the

sounds of pursuit behind us. I don't know how long she ran. Endless trees slowly crept behind us, each of them looking the same. None of our surroundings looked familiar, and I hoped Anna remembered the way. Her breathing had become harsh in labor, and halfway up a steep embankment, she came to a stop. She lowered herself onto a fallen tree, old and rotten, and as she panted, I could see thick white clouds of vapor puff out of her mouth. I let go of her and stood on the log. Looking back, I could still see a hint of torchlight, but it didn't seem to be any brighter.

Salavka's plan seemed to have worked. I asked if our sisters were going to be okay, and Anner said, of course they would. She was a terrible liar, but I pretended to believe her with nothing else to do I brushed away a patch of snow and sat down beside her

we were still sitting there when we had a gunshot echo through the woods faintly after it I could hear the mob roar it no longer sounded like a mess of people it sounded like a monster I suppose that is exactly what it was leaning against

Honor for warmth. I felt her jump violently. She jumped to her feet and looked behind and I heard her breath catching her throat. Salavka! She whispered and I could sense her despair. Salavka

is clever. Those bad men won't catch her. Honor looked at me. The moon was behind her, so her face was in shadow. But I heard her say, of course. Cleverslavka. We'll see her at Antis.

As I said, she was a terrible liar. Moments later, there was another gunshot, and then two more in quick succession. These ones clearly came from our left, and closer than the previous one. Muffled by snow and softened by trees, there was still no mistaking the whoops and yells of the men. Even at that young age, I understood. They had made a game of hunting us. Shockingly close, right behind us, we heard a man laugh. Then another man laugh in response.

They had split into three groups to chase us. Salafka's plan had failed, and some part of the mob was right on our heels. Anna's head darted from left to right desperately, trying to decide what to do next. Suddenly, she seized my wrist. Into the log. I hadn't noticed that her temporary seat had a small cavity in it. I won't, as you will. Now quickly.

Realization, dawn. You won't fit. Without my baby sister on my back, I can run much more quickly. Please, I'll help you in. Honor picked me up and pushed me into the rotten hollow feet first. Help me. She muttered, and I shuffled backwards on my elbows.

Anna glanced back where we had come. The voices were getting terribly close. My head was barely inside the log, but my hips had struck a narrow point and I couldn't slip in any further. Anna declared that it would have to do and placed a delicate finger on my lips. No matter what happens,

stay silent. But what's the word? about you. I could feel tears freezing on my cheeks. I'll run like the wind. They'll never catch me. She kissed the tip of one finger and then dabbed it onto my nose. I will see you soon, baby sister.

And then she was gone. I wept silently. Her footsteps crunched in the virgin snow and she hurried away. And soon the sound was lost in the trees. I started to get very cold, and my little teeth began chattering. I didn't hear the men approach. They must have been trained soldiers, because they moved quietly and without lights. The first I knew of them was when a log rocked gently, and I heard the soft crunch of snow.

They stuffed two fingers into my mouth, terrified that the sound of my teeth chattering together would give me away. There was conversation, but I cannot repeat it. They talked about what they would like to do if they caught a girl. I did not understand the words they used. I was very young and innocent, you must remember. But I could hear the gleeful cruelty in their hushed voices. They sat only for a moment, catching their breath. And then they were gone.

I could barely hear them go, walking as they were in a trail honor had made through the snow. Time passed. I did not hear any gunshots. At one point I thought I may have heard the scream, but it was very faint so I could not be sure. Strange as it may seem, I think I slept. Much later, I heard somebody say my name. I tried to listen, but I did. Thinking was very hard. I think now that I must have been on the brink of freezing to death, because it was very difficult to focus on whoever was speaking to me.

Come on. We have to get to aunties. I can't. I'm stuck. You're not stuck? You're just cold. I was dimly aware of a figure standing in front of me. But the moon had sunk low and it was difficult to my. make out.

Anna? Of course. I told you I would come back. A small spark of hope bloomed in my little mind, and I actually tried to move. The rotten wood was tight around me, but I could feel it loosening. Come on, we have to go. Anna turned and started to walk away, and I thought she was going to leave me again. I found my strength then.

"'Rigging like a worm, I got my arms free, "'and then it was easy to push the rest of me out. "'My joints were aching as I stood and looked around. "'Nobody was there. "'This way, silly?' "'Anna's soft voice came up from the embankment, "'and I saw her silhouette. "'I stumbled through the snow towards her

"'and asked for another piggyback. "'Not now, little one. "'You have to use your own feet. The second part of my flight to Auntie's house was much harder. The snow seemed deeper and harder, and of course I had to walk the hallway myself. Soon my little legs were spent, and I sank to my knees in the snow. I know you're tired, but you have to keep going. Somehow, I jumped to my feet.

Salavka! The moon had almost vanished, and it was becoming very very, very much. dark, but I could see her standing in the snow a short distance away. I thought, the bad men. I trailed off. I did not have the words. You are so close to aunties now. Just a little further, and you'll be there, and auntie will make you a hot bowl of oats with dried apples. With her encouragement, I somehow got to my feet and stumbled onward.

I called out to Anna But she did not reply And neither did Slavka Dimly I wondered where they were But most of my attention was focused on the task Of putting one foot in front of the other I had no idea what I was going

But I tried to walk in the direction I had last heard Anna's voice I trudged for what seemed like hours And then I heard a voice to my right Wrong way I looked And even though it was very dark I could see someone

Walking away into the trees They had long curly hair The colour of steel in this dim light But which probably would have been golden in daylight Una She didn't turn But simply said Follow me to aunties

So I did Like a ship Following the beam of a lighthouse, I trudged miserably through that bitterly cold forest, following the beacon of Una's golden hair. And then, just like that, I arrived. Amber lantern lights spilled from a small window, and silhouetted against the graying creed on sky, I recognized the humped shape of Auntie's little cottage.

I turned to look for my sisters. In the golden light from the window I could see them standing at the edge of the woods All three of them holding hands Let's eat porridge I realized that a fourth taller figure was standing behind my sisters I took a few steps closer

And then saw that it was a woman I did not know her But she seemed familiar Her kind eyes looked like Slavkas And the corners of her mouth with crinkled with laughterlines reminding me of Una. The protective way

she put her arms around my sisters was uncannily like Anna. She said nothing that gave me one long, sad look before leading my sisters back into the forest. From behind I could see her hair.

That was no colour. Not black, not blonde, not brown, not anything. It was beautiful. The funnel went silent, and I realized her story was over. Numbly, I reached for the pot to pour more tea, but found it empty. Without a word, I rose and rinsed out the leaves, then refilled the kettle, put it back on the stove. I stood in silence while it came to the boil, and then made a fresh pot of tea.

I placed the tea on the table, then returned to the cabinet. Delicately, I set out three additional clean saucers, then set a cup in each one. Lifting the pot, I filled each cup in turn, and then nonos. We drank our tea in silence. There was nothing more to say. We frequently hear about great advances in science, but we often forget that there are many people working behind the scenes to make those happen. As we learn in this tale from authors Manon Lysets and our own Brandon Boone, one support worker shares what he saw during one fateful round of experiments at the lab where he works

and why it won't be considered a success. Performing this tale are Dan Zapula, Addison Peacock, and James Cleveland. So remember that old adage proven quite true in this case. You are what you eat. My presence is always overlooked, ignored, forgotten. I'm cast aside as being nothing but a lowly janitor, but I'm not just around to pick up trash. I'm a custodial worker, sure, but I'm also educated.

I have to be, because I'm trained to deal with medical waste at a private research lab. I handle biohazardous materials of all kinds on a daily basis. The researchers forget I'm here and walk right by me without a word. Just because they don't see me doesn't mean I'm left in the dark. I know more than I let on. I have unrestricted access and see all the fucked up shit they do here. Now I might not understand the science behind it all. I might not be able to explain what all the tests are for or what all the machines do,

but I see everything. I've seen four-winged butterflies. I've spotted weirdly misshapen pigeons. I've cleaned up blobs of molten animal skins. I've watched a monkey learn to control a biomechanical arm. And yesterday, I saw the end of this entire research facility and its team. of researchers. When one of their experiments went,

awry, skinny rogue. That's what they called him. His official name was Specimen E5-2187. But no one called him that. See, scientists get a bad rap. They're not nearly as cold and disconnected as you see on TV or in the movies. They tend to get more attention. to their creations than you might think.

Case in point, there was a piece of tape on the corner of Skinny's tank with his pet name and a smiley face next to it. Now, as far as I could tell, Skinny Rogue was some sort of snake. He was about two feet long, thin, and flat like a tapeworm. He had a rounded face with two tiny, glassy blue eyes

that never moved. The rest of Skinny was entirely white, but for his little forked red tongue that sometimes slipped out of his little mouth and flapped around like a flag in the breeze. He was kept in a bland terrarium on sub-level six, just a layer of gravel in wide-open space, nothing more to keep him company.

I'd see him slithering along the glass, walls at night as I cleaned up. He reminded me of that old game with the snake eating pixels and trying not to bump into itself as it grew bigger. You know, the one everyone had on those big fancy calculators in algebra class. I'm not sure if Skinny could see me, but sometimes it looked like he was following me around. Skinny Robe was definitely one of the most unique specimens I'd seen. Phase one.

Last week as I was sweeping the floor, I saw the research team standing around Skinny's tank. Catherine, John, and David. Yeah, I knew their names. But damned if a single one of them knew mine. The trio had set up a camera aimed at the tank. Catherine was holding a wriggling millipede with a pair of tweezers. David unscrewed the single flathead screw keeping the lid at the top of Skinny's tank shut. and John opened it.

Catherine dropped the Millipede inside, and the other two were quick to shut the lid and put the screw back in. It took Skinny Rogue all of two seconds to notice the intruder. Before the Millipede even had time to get its bearings, Skinny was on it. One shamp was all it took for the Millipede to disappear.

There was a little bit of the Millipede to disappear. no way they had set up a camera just to record a feeding. There had to be more to it. The three started writing notes, letting out a few excited gasps. They were so distracted that I managed to get a little closer without drawing any attention to myself. So you know how when a snake eats something big, you can see its shape bulging out of its form?

Well, I could see the millipede inside of Skinny, not just a rounded shape where it had settled in skinny's stomach, but each and every little leg branching out from under the pale white flesh. That's not what bothered me, though. What bothered me was how the legs were spreading out all along Skinny's length, spacing themselves evenly to accommodate the creature a good ten times longer than the millipede. and then when the legs finally settled in place, they moved. Skinny rogue ceased slithering and started skittering instead.

The trio of scientists exchanged high-fives, congratulations, whoops and shears. I let them be and went on with my work so I wouldn't look suspicious. But when I made my rounds later that night, Skinny was still running around on his new limbs. Phase two. In the days following Skinny's transformation, I noticed the little guy filling out a bit. It was like he'd been a balloon and someone had finally inflated him. I wasn't around for any of the other feedings, but I assumed they kept up their steady supply of millipedes, because the millipede storage tank, yeah, we actually had one of those, was emptying out and fast. Catherine and David came in just as I was emptying the trash bin.

He's ready. Let's give him a scorpion tonight. David looked hesitant. You sure you don't want to wait a few days? Catherine shook her head. He plateaued as of seven o'clock this morning. It's time. All right, all right. You know what you're doing. Catherine smiled brightly and gave him a playful jab on the arm. Oh, how I wish she would interact with me like that.

Out of everyone at the facility, Catherine was the only one to acknowledge me. But even then, it was hardly more than a courteous smile when we were alone in the lab. It was more of a pitying look, really. One that meant, sorry you had to pick up monkey viscera again. In the evening, I made it a point to stay close to the lab, hoping to watch the show. I wanted to see what would happen with Skinny. morbid fascination, really. Around 6 p.m., David disappeared into the insect storage room.

John and Catherine entered the lab and set up the camera. This is when I coincidentally wandered to clean up the medical waste. It wasn't long before David returned with a scorpion in a small plastic box. John unscrewed the lid to Skinny's tank and looked to David as though waiting for approval. David nodded, and John opened the tank. The scorpion was none too happy with its tumble into the tank, and as soon as it landed, its tail reared up and ready for attack. It stepped side to side, snapping its pincers aggressively.

John screwed the lid quickly, as Skinny made his approach. Skinny snapped his mouth towards the scorpion, but the bug was ready for a fight. It clipped Skinny. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of David's face. He's not ready for this. He reached for the lid, but Catherine stopped him. Just wait.

Skinny rogue skittered around the scorpion, his little tongue flicking back and forth as though to mock his prey. John looked tense, and David, while he was a nervous wreck. Out of the three, Catherine was the only one to remain calm, as Skinny orbited around the insect. And once he formed a near-perfect circle, he violently snapped inward and coiled around the scorpion from all sides. There was a crunching sound, followed by a gush.

It happened so quickly that the scorpion hadn't even time to react. Skinny scooped up the shattered remains in one gulp. The bulge in his stomach quickly flattened, but nothing happened. It needs to be alive. Get another one, smaller this time. I quickly looked away as David rushed past me, and I pretended I hadn't been watching,

but even if they looked right at me, I don't think they would have seen me. I was invisible. I resumed my work while David fetched another scorpion. Once he came back and they had their backs turned, I stopped and watched round two. The scorpion went in, the lid was closed and screwed shut. Skinny rogue unhinged his jaw and slurped the smaller scorpion down in one shot.

Impressive. I could see the creature's outline in Skinny's body. Its tail seemed to dissect from the rest of it and extended its way down Skinny's tubular shape like sausage meat being stuffed into a goat's intestines. The scorpion's tail became Skinny's tail. His small, weak scales thickened and hardened like an exoskeleton. Still white, but stronger. Skinny pitter-pattered around the terrarium,

knocking the sharp tip of the tail against the glass, as though testing it for weakness. John, David, and Catherine were elated. He's three. I wasn't able to be there two days ago when they performed the next experiment, on Skinny, I had an important meeting to attend to outside of work, but I was able to see the result in the morning. He had grown two short arms and a pair of strong hind legs, which allowed him to run around, dig, and even move bits of gravel into a nest. A rat, I thought, as I examined his

now plump midsection. Skinny Rogue wasn't so skinny anymore. His milky eyes, now larger and with slitted pupils, followed me as I circled around his terrarium. He scurried from one side to the next, scratching at the glass with his newly acquired paws. I figured he'd gotten too big to climb the glass pane anymore. But when I tapped on it out of curiosity, he folded his mammal features and let the millipede's legs connect with the glass. He easily climbed and circled around my finger as though trying to crush it. like he'd done with the larger scorpion.

And thankfully, I was safe behind the glass. Skinny then tried to break it with the tip of his tail, but it wasn't strong enough to breach the glass. Before long, I went back to my cleaning rounds, anxious to finish and go home. But unfortunately, just as I was about to leave, my supervisor told me a monkey had died, and I needed to clean up.

I could tell by the look of his cage that it was going to take a while to sterilize it. There were these odd hair-like filaments sticking to every wall. I'd been mourned to avoid contact and just incinerate them for safe measure. I was just about to slip into a hazmat suit when the main lights dimmed and were replaced by an alternating red and orange glow. The piercing shriek of alarms quickly followed suit. This was the very first time I'd been at the facility during an emergency.

and though I knew the evacuation protocol, the full sensory assault left me rattled and frozen. I had to get to the access tunnels. I knew that much. Those tunnels had been built for and used explicitly by us lowly custodians so we wouldn't, and I quote, get in the way while carrying waste through the facility. The maze of corridors led to almost every part of the building.

They were sort of an underground world for the lesser staff, not unlike a service elevator at the back of a fancy hotel. Something to keep us out of sight, even though we were already basically invisible anyways. I shook myself to my senses, and I swiped my keycard against the reader nearest to me, and I slipped into the tunnels. I didn't know exactly what to expect

as I ran through the unpainted cement halls and up the steep stairs leading to the first floor, but I know I didn't expect to hear the screams. Yeah. I was shocked by how they managed to penetrate the thick concrete walls. I was cut off from what was happening on the other side, but I could tell it was disastrous and gruesome. A foot and a half of concrete, if I recalled correctly.

The screams managed to reverberate through a foot and a half of concrete. I could only imagine the horrors that could make men and women scream loud enough to manage that. By the time I made it to the first floor and out of the access tunnels, I was out of breath and covered in sweat. I could just barely see a glimmer of light through the frosted windows of the back exit. I pushed the bar handle, but the door was locked. And in my panic to get out, I tried ramming into the doors. But they wouldn't budge. It took me a few moments to realize the emergency lights had gone from red and orange,

to just read, we were in full lockdown now. Nothing was getting in or out, not without a security access card. I cursed beneath my breath. Now I was really starting to sweat. I retreated back into the access tunnels, pacing back and forth in a panic. What was I supposed to do, just wait it out and hope I be safe in the tunnels? No, no, no. I couldn't leave anything to chance.

The screams... The screams were getting louder. Closer. I needed to get out of the building, jump into my car, and get the hell out of Dodge. If I had any hope of getting out, I would need to get into the security office near the main entrance and steal one of the security access cards. I didn't even think about how I'd get into the security. office. If I had the access card necessary to get in, I'd just as easily be able to leave through the back door. Of course, my flawed, panic-stricken logic could have gotten me killed. Fortunately,

when reaching the security office, I found its door wide open and its occupant missing. I jumped inside and closed the door behind me so no one, or nothing, would sneak up on me while I had my back turned. I barely had time to rummage through the drawers before my eyes were involuntarily drawn to the security monitors. Skinny Rogue had gone, well, rogue. There were bodies everywhere, dozens of them across all floors. Skinny's work, no doubt. From the quick glimpses I managed to get of him, I could tell Skinny had changed again. He was larger, fuller. and his front legs had become distinctively arm-like in nature. It even looked as though he had the hands of a chimp.

He skittered around on his millipede limbs, making his way from one security feed to the next in the blink of an eye. From time to time, he'd stop, sit up awkwardly on his hind legs, look around, and start running. It was a struggle to keep track of him, but I realized one thing. He was coming my way. I checked the door,

locked. To my relief, it passed right by the security office without stopping. He turned the corner and headed for the main entrance. He hadn't come for me. He'd come to escape. A security guard suddenly bolted out of the access tunnel by the entrance and immediately fired a shot at Skinny. I heard the pop and saw the flash of light on the screen lagging a few seconds later.

The bullet was lodged in the entrance's glass pane. The guard had missed. He wasn't going to get a second shot. Skinny snapped around, got up on his hind legs, and dug his venomous stinger right into his stomach. On the screen, I watched as the man fell to the floor and began thrashing around like a fish. Bloody foam poured out of his mouth as his eyes bulged from their sockets like a cartoon character.

It was only after a few minutes of this that he finally became still. It was a gruesome way to go. Meanwhile, Skinny was repeatedly thrusting his stinger against the window. He was smart enough to focus his efforts on where the bullet had landed. With every impact, more cracks formed until the window finally shattered. Skinny climbed the door and disappeared on the other side. I waited for a minute and then mustered up just enough courage to open the security office's door and crawl around the corner to the guard lying dead in the hall.

My intentions were not to check for a pulse. No, I wanted his gun. I pride it from his fingers and then retreated back into the security office. I was scared. So damn scared. But the gun? Well, that made me feel just a little bit safer. I hugged my legs and hid my face between my knees.

Phase five, as I sat there in terror, I could hear dogs barking wildly. We had several posted around the perimeter to keep people out, but it never occurred to me that they'd ever be needed to keep something in. I hoped they had managed to stop Skinny, but I had no way of knowing what was going on out there. Anxiety and tension whizzled their way through every fiber of my muscles. The dogs had to win the fight. Who knew what would happen if Skinny managed to eat one?

See, Skinny hadn't eaten any of the researchers, and I had a hunch. It was because they were too big for him. Dogs, on the other hand, well, they were a good stepping stone. The barks turned into wines. The dogs were losing. It was only a matter of time

before Skinny would eat one and change. I wondered how he would change and what he would do once it happened. Would he climb the electric fence? Tunnel under it? Would he wreak havoc in town? He did none of those things. Instead, he came back.

I'm not sure why he did. I'm not sure what he wanted. Maybe he couldn't find a way out, so he wanted to investigate the facility. Maybe he wanted to take a nap in his cage. It damned if I know. I just recall looking up and seeing him break through the doors with ease.

He was bigger, much bigger. In his mouth had elongated into a snout. A few tufts of fur peaked out from in between his plated skin. He was grotesque. He approached the security guard, licked his cheek with that forked tongue of his, and then swallowed him whole. He needed a live victim for it to work, I recalled. And who better to serve as his next meal than me?

Skinny wandered around the corner and began scratching at my door. He could smell me. His new nose could smell me shivering behind that metal door. I held the gun tightly, debating whether to use it on him or on myself. Phase six. Skinny stopped. I opened my eyes and turned my attention to the security monitors. Catherine was standing at the end of the hall.

Why the hell hadn't she stayed hidden wherever she'd been holed up? Why was she chasing danger? Skinny recoiled and slowly backed away, never breaking eye contact with her. His tail arched over his head as he pointed his stinger at her. Rogue, honey? As she passed the security office, I was compelled to open the door and pull her into safety. Maybe I could be a hero, her hero.

But I didn't. I didn't even unlock the door. I couldn't take the risk. Skinny was just so fast. I just watched. She forced a smile. Rogue, let's go back downstairs. I'll give you some nice treats.

I could hear stress in her voice. This was the first time I had ever seen her confidence waver. Skinny's brand new canine-like jaw came unhinged and widened as the two turned the corner. He was going to eat her. I was sure of it. I couldn't let it happen. I couldn't let him take Catherine.

Anyone but Catherine. I held the door handle hesitantly, but I finally lunged out of the security office, clutching that gun tightly between my fingers. But I was too late. I rounded the corner just in time to see Skinny dart towards Catherine. She screamed as it happened, but the scream was snuffed out so suddenly and abruptly that it seemed like someone had muted the TV. Skinny sat up on his hind legs and swallowed.

Her shape slid down his long torso and settled near the bottom. I waited in shock. I was too late. Too freaking late. Skinny's body didn't seem to change. Even though he'd eaten Catherine alive, nothing happened. The bulge in his stomach slowly disappeared as though Catherine was dissolving. Maybe Skinny couldn't evolve any further?

And then he turned towards me. His little blue serpentine eyes scanned me from head to toe. His mouth spread wide open, his pointed fangs glistening like knives. Everything became blurry as tears swelled in my eyes. This was it. This was how I was going to die. He was going to eat me. Skinny suddenly let out a shriek.

Not of anger, but of fear. The voice was neither distinctively male nor female. He looked itself over, a clear terror in its beady little eyes. I didn't answer. I don't think I could have made a sound even if I wanted to. My mouth had gone dry in my mouth. had gone dry and my throat had tightened to the diameter of a straw. Skinny shrieked again, his longer legs buckling,

and his shorter millipede limbs pushed him slowly towards me as I stood there as still as a statue. I thought he was coming for me, but couldn't get myself to budge or look at anything but my own two feet. And then I felt his shadow on me. I closed my eyes tightly, terrified. My final moments were going to be spent on the slip and slide to hell. But I was wrong.

Skinny wasn't coming for me. Skinny Stinger nudged the gun towards him, and he took it in his chimpanzee hand. I hadn't even realized I dropped it. I looked up slowly, only to see Skinny lowering his head closer to his hands. He brought the barrel of the gun to his temple and fired. I heard a splat and a thunk as he fell dead. It was over.

I was safe. I don't know what exactly Skinny took from Catherine. Maybe it was her soul. Maybe it was her brain. Or maybe something else entirely. I'll probably never know for sure. But whatever it was, I think it's the only reason I'm alive now. So I'm grateful to Catherine.

When all was said and done, I did my job. I cleaned up. After all, that's what I was paid for, right? The lab was a mess. And I was just a lowly janitor. I mean, like I said earlier, I'm trained to handle biohazardous materials and dispose of medical waste. I'm educated.

You couldn't tell that much by looking at my meager salary. I wasn't too pleased when I realized recently that some high school janitors make about as much as I do when all they have to deal with is graffiti and gum. So when the representative of a lab we often competed against for grants approached me a few days ago and offered me $200,000 for a single little flathead screw, the screw to the lid of Skinny's tank,

I accept it and I don't regret it. It includes our nocturnal presentation. Now it's time to drift off into your own nightmares. 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. 25 episodes, each over two hours long, and three exclusive bonus episodes, all for only 1999.

On behalf of everyone at the No Sleep Podcast, we thank you for listening. Join us again next week. We'll have more stories for you and whatever that is standing right behind you. This audio production is Copyright 2016 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.