The NoSleep Podcast - NoSleep Podcast Summer 2026 Hiatus Vol. 2

Episode Date: August 2, 2026

It's our Summer Hiatus in between seasons 24 & 25. Join us as we present bonus tales from our Sleepless Universe for those hot summer nights."The Bothy" by Peter J Stewart (Story starts around 00:03:45)Produced by Phil MichalskiCast: Eric - David Ault, Mary - Ash Millman, Jack - Guy Woodward"The Aegis Group" by M Bohren (Story starts around 00:29:40)TRIGGER WARNING!Produced by Jesse CornettCast: Reid - Atticus Jackson, Dom - Dan Zappulla, Michael - Mike DelGaudio, John - Jeff Clement, Abe - Matthew Bradford, Lucian - Graham Rowat, Valkyrie - Kyle Akers, Bravo - Jesse Cornett, Hannah - Nichole GoodnightThis episode is sponsored by:Weight Loss by Hims - Ready to reach your weight loss goals? Weight Loss by Hims and WegovyÆ. Get a personalized, affordable plan that gets you. Go to Hims.com/nosleep.Indacloud - IndaCloud is a fully legal online cannabis dispensary for gummies, exotic flower, premium prerolls, Zero Sugar THC Sodas, Energy Gummies, and Extra Strength Sleep Gummies. If you're 21 or older, go to indacloud.co/nosleep to get 30% off your first order.Click here to learn more about The NoSleep Podcast teamCheck out our NEW MERCH!Executive Producer & Host: David CummingsMusical scores composed by: Brandon BooneSummer 2026 Hiatus 01 illustration courtesy of Alexandra CruzThe NoSleep Podcast is Human-made for Human Minds. No generative AI is used in any aspect of work.Audio program ©2026 - Creative Reason Media - 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. No part of this audio program may be used or reproduced in any manner for the purpose of training artificial intelligence technologies or systems. All rights reserved.

Oh, thanks for joining us for the No Sleep Podcast. I'm your host, David Cummings. Hey, careful of those riptides out there. Rip Tides can quickly become RIP tides. Yes, we're still hanging out on the beach. I always try to be helpful and save a few lives if I can. It's when David Cummings becomes David Hasselhoff. I'm here on Baywatch.

I mean Baywatch. Well, we're glad you're with us for our summer hiatus volume two. Coming up after this episode, for the next two weeks, we'll be two volumes of our sleepless decomposition series. Make sure you join us for those gruesome affairs. And as I mentioned last week, the tales on this episode were originally part of our sleepless universe platform. And you know how much we encourage people to become premium members,

but there's one thing worth pointing out. Your support goes to everyone who contributes to the podcast. Real people sharing their time and talent with you. And while some shows out there rely on AI to help make their episodes, we are proud to remain human made for human minds. So if you like what we do, your support will help all of us continue making authentic and real horror productions without relying on machines. And support for all this free content also.

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visit Hems.com. So our summer vacation might be coming to an end, but horror, like rust, never sleeps. So tune in and brace yourself for our sleepless tales. In our first tale, we go on a hike. But if you don't normally go on hikes in Great Britain, especially during inclement weather, you may not know what a bothy is.

Basically, it's a little stone shelter in remote areas that hikers and campers can take refuge in. And in this tale, shared with us by author Peter J. Stewart, we meet a couple on a trip, hoping to work out some conflicts in their relationship. And you guessed it, they find themselves dealing with more than their issues as they take refuge from a storm. Performing this tale are David Alt, Ash Milman, and Guy Woodward. So when you find yourself singing, Give Me Shelter, you'll be glad if you can find the Bothy.

Nothing dampens the spirit, both figuratively and literally, more than getting caught in an almost biblical downpour in the middle of nowhere. Your leisurely weekend in the hills becomes a slow trudge through bog-like countryside as you long for any shelter or a reprieve from the rain. Let's go camping, he said. Behind me as a... rang out from Mary's boots as she pulled them free from the mud.

What better place to reconnect than in the glorious highlands, he said. Oh, I would reconnect my foot with your ass if it was and stuck right now. Very helpful, Mary. I've heard bitching really helps in situations like this. Keeps everyone's spirits high. Bitching. Who's bitching, Eric?

I'm just stating facts. I think the rage might have been keeping her going, otherwise she might have sunk into the mud a mile back. You said it would be sunny, all beautiful vistas and cozying up beneath the stars. Have you forgotten that already? Has your brain become waterlogged from all the rain? I mean, do you even know where we are?

Of course I do. I replied as calmly as I could, but I could barely contain the frustration in my voice. I checked the map, and there should be a boffy just over this ridge where we can dry off and stay for the night. Ah, right, yeah. Is this the same map that led us straight into this bog? The boffy better be there,

or I'm going to cut you open and stay inside you for the night. I promise, it's there. I knew that violent insults usually meant that Mary was hangary and would follow through with the threat of the bono. Bothy wasn't there. I quicken my step as best I could and crested the ridge, and there it was, standing alone just a little way down the hill. As much as I want to avoid being your personal torn-torn. Personal what? Never mind, not important. I had hoped that she was making a reference to Star Wars with that threat, and it wasn't just the way her brain worked. I present to you the dark

forest Bothy. Mary trudged ahead. Why is it called that? There's no trees around here for about a mile. No clue. Maybe there was a forest at one point and it's gone now. Of course, you don't know. I don't know why I expected any different. And to be honest, I don't really care.

A small stone wall created a boundary around the body. The body proper was nothing to write home about. It was just like any that you would find in the highlands, made out of well-weathered stone with a few small windows, a slated roof and a simple red door that didn't lock, perfect for those who wander in the wilderness. Oh, finally. Mary sighed as she pushed open the door,

tapped the mud off her boots and moved inside. I followed behind. The place wasn't large, only two rooms joined by another wooden door in the middle. In the first room there was a wood-burning stove in the corner with a pile of old moss-covered chopped logs resting beside it, a table in the middle, some shelves, and a small window with a book resting underneath adjacent to the middle door. It's not exactly the Ritz, but it'll do.

As if you would take me to the Ritz. I tried to ignore the snide comment as Mary picked up some logs and threw them in the wood-burning stove. I'll get this going and see if we can dry off a bit. Good plan. I moved through into the adjoining room. I was expecting to find two raised platforms for sleeping and nothing else, but the place wasn't as empty as I expected to be. It was customary and bodies for those.

who used them to leave them how they found them, only leaving things like firelighters and maybe some tinned food if they had extra. However, laying upon the raised platform on the right side of the room was a rucksack and a little battery-operated lamp. Someone's left their stuff here. We're not even going to get this place to ourselves tonight. I took a closer look at the bag and lamp. They were covered in dust and cobwebs. They'd been here for a few weeks at least. I wouldn't worry about that. What was that? I said, don't worry.

These have clearly been here for a while, so I don't think we're going to have any unwanted guests in here with us tonight. Hallelujah! She clapped. Right, that's the fire going. Time to get some food on the go. I'm sure I had some breakfast in a can in my bag somewhere. I grimaced at the idea of that,

but quickly put the worry aside as I knew she would feel better once she'd eaten. While she was otherwise occupied, I checked through the discarded bag and found an old map with a trail marked out, leading through the mountains with this body highlighted as stop three. Maybe they got sick and had to leave suddenly. A jubilant cry came from the other room. Mary had found what she was looking for. I smiled and then tipped the bag up on the bed to see what else was in there. A metal bottle toppled out and rolled onto the ground with a clink. Then came a compass, a couple of tins of fruit, an emergency poncho and a little digital camera.

It looked very similar to the one I used to have in school. They'd become popular again amongst those who didn't want to carry a smartphone with them as they escaped into nature. I checked it over and found that it was out of batteries, but I had some spare in my bag, so I put it aside with the idea in mind that I would have a look later to see if there were any clues as to what had happened to the body's previous guest. Food's on. Thought I'd find my breakfast in a breakfast in a next. can, but you can rest easy as it was just a can of spaghetti hoops, and I don't fancy digging around

in my bag any longer. Oh, that's a relief. I headed back through to her. This place smells odd enough without us farting up a storm in here. You have such a way with words. Oh, thank you. I'm just glad we won't have a repeat of the Skegness tent incident. It wasn't that bad. It was. I made my way across the room and picked up the guest logbook. If we had lit a match in there, I reckon the explosion could have been seen from space. I can see the headline now. Campers unleashed bio-weapon on Skeggy Hillside. Mary punctuated her announcement with a wave of the hoop-covered ladle.

Whoops! Maybe you can give that splatter a wipe-up once you're finished with the guest book. Any clues to what happened to our missing camper? Oh, very kind of you to leave that mess for me. I'll get right on that. I flicked through the book. scanning over the usual logs that people left. Some were very official, just giving the dates and times they stayed, occasionally a list of things they left behind. A few discussed things they had

seen close by, and others just wrote a hello for whomever came next. Everything was normal up until the last page, which was dated a few months before we had arrived. It was the normal hello from a solo hiker named Jack. He documented the date and time of his arrival and mentioned that the weather was sunny. Then it took a sudden turn, as scrawled underneath the entry log in a hurried scribble, it read, don't listen to the voices in the dark forest. Well, that's creepy. Take a look at this. I passed the book to Mary. She quickly glanced at the entry while she ate a mouthful of spaghetti hoops. I took out another spoon and tucked in as well. Looks like they had a breakdown in here, Which I get. It is a bit of a shithole.

Oh, come on, it's not that bad. I think it's cozy. Oh, yeah. Nothing screams cozy, like the rain lashing down outside and the abandoned belongings of someone who clearly went mad in the next room. It's very murder-hovel-shek. All that's missing is a lovely foot mat for the door that says, Welcome to Hell. Oh, trust me. After we've eaten and we get the bedding out, maybe put some candles around the place, it'll be lovely in here. You trust me. Oh, that's hot. I coughed as the hoops burnt the roof of my mouth.

Candles don't solve every issue, Eric, and maybe blow on your food next time. I know. I caught her eye before she looked away quickly. It'll take a lot more to fix this, right? The boffy. Yeah, the boffy. It'll take a little more than elbow grease to make this place homely. A lot more.

She sighed as we finished off the last of the hoops. After we at and before it got dark, we cleaned up in almost complete silence. We set up the bedding and placed some candles around, and the soft, warm glow seemed to settle us both. Before long, we were chatting about nothing again. Unfortunately, the storm hadn't died down, and so I braced a chair against the front door to stop it blowing open in the night. Mary had already climbed into her sleeping bag,

complaining about how the cold had seeped into her. which it was quickly doing to me as well. I was about to join her, fumbling through my bag from my toiletries, when I pulled out my spare batteries and remembered Jack's old camera. Allowing curiosity to get the better of me, I decided to check it out for any clues as to what had happened to the body's previous guest. With the batteries installed, the camera came to life without any issue. I scrolled through the various shots of landscapes, random flowers,

and the occasional deer, until I came across a shot of the outside of the body in the middle of the day. Oh, here we go. I sat down on the raised platform next to Mary. She shimmied up into a sitting position, still wrapped up tight in her sleeping bag. Anything interesting? Nothing yet. It's just a collection of shots of the inside of the body,

and it does look like Jack was alone. Oh, I don't fancy being in here on my Todd. No. Thank you to that. Yeah, I've never been one for solo camping. Oh, hold on. I stopped as an odd blurry picture flashed up. Mary rested her head on my shoulder.

What is it? One after another, there was a blurry shot of Jack's face. It was almost impossible to make out what was happening, but small glimpses of the background made it clear that he was still in the body. I flicked onto a close-up of a bloodshot eye. It was a video, but the wide-eyed look that stared back at me gave me pause before I could click on it. Mary put her arm around me but didn't say a word. She just squeezed my side softly, clearly filled with the same unease that I felt.

I clicked the button and the video came to life. The camera darted back and forth between Jack's face and the walls of the body. Distorted, heavy breathing came from the camera's little speakers as it frantically whipped around. Have you faint that? Something is heart in my mind that something impossible is going on. Listen, listen. He held the camera out, but we couldn't hear anything. All that we saw was a shot of the empty room,

with a flickering lamp in the corner and a pitch-black night out of the windows. Listen. Still, we couldn't hear anything until he lifted the camera up and rested it on a window cell pointing inwards to the room. He stepped into the frame, and this was the first we saw of him in full. He was dressed in climbing gear with waterproof coverings. His face was young, stubble-specked, and his hair a dark ginger. His eyes were sunken, and he was soaking wet from either sweat or the rain outside.

He held still with his hands pointing outwards, and as his breathing settled, the soft sound of rustling trees could be heard. Suddenly, a knock rattled on the door, and he jumped before quickly grabbing the camera and switching it off. Is that the last video? Yeah. Mary slumped back. Well, I think we can pretty much guarantee that I'm not getting any sleep after that. No, me neither.

But you did hear that, didn't you? You heard the trees. It must have just been a strange side effect of being in the hills or the storm or something. I don't know. What I do know is that we didn't see any trees within a mile of this place. I know. I know. But that's what's even more unsettling.

What do you mean? If there are no trees around here, then what is that noise? Mary paled as she started to hear what I heard. The sound of distant rustling trees drifted in through the window. She pushed the sleeping bag off. You missed all to be playing the video. I switched it off a minute ago. I dropped the camera on the bed.

Mary picked it up and scanned it for signs that the sound was coming from it. I stood up and slowly shifted towards the door. I moved through into the other room, but the sound didn't dampen. Where are you going? Mary pulled her waterproofs back on and winced at the still wet feeling against her skin. I need to know if it's a trick. I took the chair away from the front door and opened it. Wait, wait for me.

I stepped out into the night and horizontal rain lashed against my face. It was freezing and the night was pierced. black. I could barely see the ground in front of me, but the sound of trees had only grown stronger. I could hear dry branches rattling together and snapping and breaking with the movement of the wind. Here, use this. Mary appeared beside me and passed me a torch. Without a word, I took it and flicked it on, casting a beam of light out into the darkness. And there it was, as clear as day. A forest. a forest that hadn't been there just a few hours before. What the hell?

I turned and walked around the edge of the body. Mary followed closely behind. We walked a complete lap of the building and in every direction the dark forest surrounded us. How is this even possible? All I could do was shake my head in response as I raised the torch up and followed the branches, revealing that they stretched over the body in a dome

and completely engulfed us. Oh, God. I looked over to Mary, unable to think. Okay, okay, okay. Mary grabbed my arm and dragged me back inside the body before slamming the door and pushing her back up against it. What is happening? I don't...

I was cut off by a rumble that shook the walls and rattled the door. I looked out the window and now I could see the forest with the naked eye. On a night of things that didn't make any sense, this one still stuck out, as somehow the trees were closer to us constricting in around the body. What do we do? Mary pushed in beside me. Do we just tunker down, hope that it leaves us alone, or maybe we can burn it or something, or maybe just run?

I reckon we can make it if we just put our heads down and legged it. Her rambling was only cut off when the rumble started again, and we both saw it this time. The roots of the trees reached out and dragged themselves towards us, all looking like the fingers on a thousand outstretched hands reaching for us. Right then, my mind snapped into action and I spun on my heels, grabbed the wooden table from the middle of the room, flipped it on its side and pushed it against the door. We barricade ourselves in and hope that it works.

The ground continued to shake as Mary and I grabbed our bags and anything heavy to cover every opening we could until there was nothing left to do apart from hold each other as we waited for what was to come. The rumble was so close I could tell that the trees were right outside the window before everything suddenly fell silent. The only noise was the sound of our breathing

as we were too afraid to even speak. The silence held, and for a foolish moment I thought maybe we might be okay, and that it might end, and that whatever happened to Jack wouldn't happen to us. But that wasn't the case. We dared not respond. This Jack, can you let me end, please?

I just need my stuffed mic. Could you open the door, please? We don't even know, Jack. Why would we open the door for him? Oh, don't be like that. Something scratched lightly across the door. You wouldn't leave another. I could out in the cold, would you?

You can freeze for all I care. That's disappointing. I was going to make you an offer. What kind of offer? Why are you asking that? We don't want anything from it. We have no idea what it is, and we need to know what it wants. Nice to hear that one of you wants to speak to me.

What do you want? The forest needs fed. I only need one of you, but I can't do both if you make it wait. A heavy silence fell across us. The only sound was that. creaking wood as the forest constricted around the body and scratched at the glass on the windows looking for a way in. So what's the offer? That is the offer. One, two, need the forest, and one, two, go three. You can't be serious. We can take you both if you'd prefer. No, no, no, no, just,

give us a minute. What are you doing? We slumped down to our knees and held each other's hands. We should just wait this out and hope it goes away. If we do that, it'll just come inside and take one of us. You don't know that? Look, look, look, look. Jack didn't get this option. He was on his own and was taken. One of us at least has a chance to escape.

And that will be you, I guess. No. I was going to say that it should be you. Why? Because I couldn't live with myself if it took you. Oh. Oh, we're... Okay, if you're sure.

Mary sighed as her shoulders slumped and she looked away from me. Okay? Okay. I was unable to hide the look on my face that questioned how quickly she accepted the suggestion. I knew things had been tough between us, but to have no debate, no begging, not even a thank you, was unexpected. The body started to creak as the forest tightened around us, but all I could think about at that that moment was how little I clearly meant to Mary, that she would so quickly and without question accept my sacrifice for her? I know I offered, but still a little back and forth would have been

nice. I stood up and stepped away from her, and she didn't even look at me. I started to pull things away from the door. I heard her stand up behind me, but still she didn't say a word. I hesitated for a moment before I finished unblocking the door and opened it. I shut my eyes firmly for a second and braced myself for what was to come. Oh, God! Have you made your choice? Yes. I opened my eyes and saw what used to be Jack standing in front of me.

His body decaying as branches propped him up and writhed beneath his skin. One milky white eye looked lifelessly back at me as hooked tendrils pulled his mouth into a smile. Is that? What is to happen to me? Yes. The grotesque figure's voice box squirmed as the forest puppeted his body. You will be one with the many. One with the forest.

I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. All I could do was stare at the thing in front of me. It didn't make sense. Monsters weren't real, were they? Not in my world. The forest let out a creaking hiss as it grew impatient. As it waited for me to step forward, I was frozen to the spot.

Tears started to run down my face as Mary laid her hand on my shoulder and whispered in my ear. You're doing the right thing. I felt her lightly pushed me forward. Not Jack was pulled away and a pitch-black moor opened for me to step into. A thousand thoughts rolled round in my head. My life, the future that I had planned, the possibility of getting married, maybe even to Mary. But then one thought came from the back of my mind and rolled over and over in my head, gathering momentum until it consumed everything else.

You're doing the right thing. Mary's voice pimpled around my head, getting louder and louder until my voice cut in, and I shouted, Yeah, the right thing for you! What? I grabbed her hand off my shoulder and spun her straight into the darkness waiting for me. You bastard! She was cut off.

branches clamped around her mouth. Clearly the forest didn't care about on her. All it cared about was being fed, and Mary was quickly engulfed. Her muffled screams grew faint, and the forest began to move away. Not Jack dragged lifelessly away into the night. Leave.

I closed the door, climbed into my sleeping bag, and pulled it tight over my head, and didn't come out until morning. When I did, the only sign that anything had happened was that Mary's sleeping bag lay unused across from me.

There was no evidence of the forest. There were no drag marks in the dirt. There weren't even any marks on the side of the body. I gathered our things, and before I left, I wrote in the guest book, the only thing I could think of to say. Don't stay here on your own. The horror keeps flowing after a word from the folks who make all this free content possible. Hey, don't worry.

Folks, you're not on your own here. We're with you day and night. And we know how busy you are, even during the lazy, hazy days of summer. Summer used to mean fewer responsibilities. Somebody should probably tell my to-do list that. That's why I'm thankful for Indecloud, your fully legal online cannabis dispensary.

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Plus, free gifts on qualifying orders. And don't forget to fill out the quick survey when you order to support our show. As always, please enjoy responsibly, and a huge thanks to Indicloud for helping everybody spend a little less time managing summer and a little more time enjoying it. Now let's plunge back into the deep waters of horror. In our final tale, we meet Reed, an experienced combat veteran who has been recruited for covert domestic deployment. Teemed with other battle-hardened troops, Reed is unsure what their mission really is. And in this tale, shared with us by author M. Bowren.

After assuming it's some sort of top-secret counter-terrorism program, he quickly learns that it's much more serious and dangerous. than anything he could have imagined. Performing this tale are Atticus Jackson, Dan Zupula, Mike Delgadoio, Jeff Clement, Matthew Bradford, Graham Rowett, Kyle Akers, Jesse Cornett, and Nicole Goodnight. So if you prepare for battle, remember to know your enemy. That's especially true if you join the Aegis Group.

The wipers squeaked back and forth rapidly. doing their best to keep up with the driving rain accumulating on the windshield of the all-black van. The driver, realizing he couldn't turn them any higher, muttered quietly to himself and leaned closer to the steering wheel in an effort to see the lead van clearly. Not long now. The man in the passenger's seat spoke up for the first time since we had left the safe house. Two minutes out. In the rearmost of the two bench seats, I began a final check of my kit. Most of what the quartermaster had issued me when I had arrived with standard gear for a breacher in a tier one unit.

Bump cap, carrier loaded with level four plates and pouches for spare ammunition, first aid, and whatever else the wearer might want to keep close at hand. Rather than rifle magazines, the pouches on my vest had been loaded with a series of six-round tearaway shot. shell holders, which could be attached to the Velcro pad mounted on the side of my company issued weapon. The shotgun, a Beretta semi-automatic, had been fitted with a sling, flashlight, and an extension of the tube magazine that brought the capacity up to seven. All in all is standard loadout for an assault team breacher.

Looking around the van at the rest of the five-man team, some of the gear they carried was anything but standard for what I assumed was a counter-terrorist unit. The big man who'd introduced himself as John sat solo in the bench seat ahead of me. As I watched him load his weapon, I realized that he was loading a belt of 762 NATO rounds into what I had initially mistaken for an MP5. He in fact had been issued an HK51B, a bastardized invention of the SAS that had coupled the maneuverability of a submachine gun with enough muzzle velocity to kill everyone two apartments over. It had been rejected by the Brits due to concerns about over-penetration and the fact that shooters found the flash

and report from the shortened barrel to be disturbing. Not the sort of thing most teams wanted going off in the same room as them. Beside me, said a wiry, red-haired man whom I had only thus far heard referred to as Abe. He carried a short-barreled M4 Carbean fitted with an underbarrel grenade launcher.

His plate carrier was festooned with spare 40-millimeter grenade rounds of various types and purposes. I'd seen what some of those rounds were capable of during my time in Iraq, and once again wondered just what sort of threats these guys were expecting on a domestic deployment. What exactly was the Aegis Group involved in? After this point, everyone I'd met since being recruited has been incredibly tight-lipped. even for a community as secretive as spooks. This had to be agency business, I reasoned. The recruitment had reeked of CIA.

During the last workup, my commanding officer had informed me that I had been selected for a special assignment. That afternoon, I met with a man who called himself Lucian Duval. The meeting itself had been fairly informal. My service record spoke for itself, and he had clearly familiarized himself with it. You saw quite a bit of action over there, didn't you?

His voice was low, with the faintest hint of an Italian accent. Yes, sir. Regular patrols and 50 direct action missions on my last tour. Lucian nodded, flipping casually through my file. You have a great deal of experience as a breacher. Not a question. A statement of fact. Correct. A mechanical and explosive.

The rest of the conversation followed in a very similar fashion, less an interview than a performance review. Once Lucian seemed satisfied that the information he'd obtained about me was accurate and complete, he laid my file on the table and stowed his reading glasses in his breast pocket. He looked up at me as though seeing me for the first time since we'd sat down. He seemed to appraise me for a moment, before he broke the silence. Why exactly did you enlist, Sergeant Reed? Same reason every 18-year-old signs up, I suppose. Serve my country and save the world.

Lucian's mouth twitched up at one end momentarily in response, a flicker of a smile crossing his otherwise placid features. You wanted to help people? to protect the innocent from the wicked, yes? Sounds a lot more noble when it's all dressed up like that, but sure. Lucian nodded thoughtfully. Are you religious? Raised Christian and went to Catholic school most of my life,

but I haven't been to church since I left high school. Baptized then? Yes, sir. I replied, unsure of where this conversation was going. Going. Seemingly satisfied with my answer, Lucian began to gather his things into his briefcase. You fly out this weekend. The paperwork's already been taken care of with your commanding officer, as well as your bank details. Officially, you'll still be paid by the army with a significant pay increase. As far as any outside observer is concerned, you got a major promotion and sent to do work on some project with a high clearance level.

Unofficially? Lucian handed me an ID card bearing my face and a false name next to an insignia of a shield bearing a red cross. Welcome to the Aegis Group. The two weeks since then had been a whirlwind of training and settling in the company headquarters. After arrival, I'd begun daily training in close-quarter scenarios on the range, followed by hand-to-hand practice.

Outside of the shoot house, I saw very very, little of the rest of the team. The team, such as it was, consisted of 12 men, two five-man assault teams and a two-man sniper-spotter pair. They weren't rude to me by any means, just curt. It quickly became obvious that they had recently lost the man I had been brought in to replace and were still grieving. Out of respect for their loss, I did my best to give them space outside of training hours,

spending my time off reading in my room or walking the woods that surrounded the compound. Since then, I'd had small conversations with John and Abe, who both seemed decent enough. Michael, the man currently driving us through the outskirts of Detroit, had spoken to me only once outside of work hours. On his visit to my quarters, he'd introduced himself as the team leader, and presented me with patches bearing the Aegis logo for my carrier and helmet. Before leaving, he had also presented me with a beautifully carved rosary of some dark polished wood. Keep it under your vest. We all carry one with us in the field. I thanked him, taking the time to properly adorn my kit and stowing the rosary securely in the medical pouch affixed to my plate carrier.

As little as the symbol meant to me, there was no question that I would be wearing the prayer beads under my armor. Every team had their superstition, and it was not the place of the new guy to disrespect tradition. The daily routine went on more or less the same. Morning PT, range time, and team maneuvers, free time in the evening. Until two days ago. I'd been reading in the headquarters library adjacent to the chapel when my new company pager chimed and began to vibrate. The message was directly from Ler. Lucian. Reading only

Situation Room. Ten minutes. Five minutes after the message went out, the team was gathered before a projector screen, upon which was displayed a map of Detroit and street-level photographs of a three-story brick building. Our Michigan offices have picked up intelligence that suggests we have a hostile cell

operating out of the east end of Detroit. We tracked the movements of their leadership to an abandoned building, approximately 30 minutes from the city center. We expect level three resistance. The rest of the meeting had been a brief review of the layout of the building in our plan of attack, which brings us to tonight. The plan was simple, but nonetheless effective for its simplicity. Our sniper team had infiltrated two hours after sundown and begun observation of the target building from a water tower 300 yards to the north, feeding us updates on the coming and goings of the neighborhood.

The assault teams left the safe house at 0-230, aiming to be on site by 0300. With a little bit of luck, we might catch our host sleeping soundly unprepared for our late-night visit. On arrival, Alpha Team, my team, was to ascend to the roof via a ladder in the alleyway to the right of the building. Bravo Team would hold the alley and cover our ascent until we were in position, then move to the front door while our sniper team provided Overwatch at the surrounding. area. Once both assault teams were in position, we were to simultaneously breach the roof access door and the front door. Bravo team would clear and hold the main floor while Alpha clear the top floor and worked their way downward. By hitting them high and low at the same time, we hope to

keep them from organizing any sort of defense. Once both teams met up on the main floor, Alpha would proceed downstairs to clear the basement, while Bravo held security on the main floor, and and waited to provide backup for us if things got hairy in the basement. Tom broke the silence from the passenger seat. 30 seconds out. I began feeding shells into the baretta as the van slowed. Outside, rain hammered the body of the van as we passed an endless run of dilapidated, seemingly abandoned houses. The streetlights, where they still worked, shown overgrown yards filled with refuse.

Broken windows and boarded-up doors adorned the fronts of any of the homes we passed. Rough neighborhood. John grunted his agreement. Not likely to see any cops out here tonight. Makes our job much easier. Dom's radio cracked alive from the front seat. I'll copy. Copy, Valkyrie.

How's our approach looking? All clear on the exterior at this time. Samson 1-1. four military-aged males left in a sedan about 30 minutes ago other than that. Copy that, Valkyrie. You'll have eyes on us momentarily. The vans rounded one final corner and came to a stop. The objective building lay 150 meters ahead, a three-story brick tenement building, its street-facing windows all boarded up.

The light above the front door showed it to be of heavy steel, far newer than anything else on the block. Their convoy coasted slowly, nearly silently, the remaining distance to the building, pulling into the alley to its left. Once both vans were safely hidden in the darkness of the alley, Michael, our driver, turned to face those of us who were seated in the back. As his gaze passed over each of us, he withdrew from under his armor a rosary identical to the one he had given me. Michael bowed his head and began to pray The rest of the men followed his lead Myself included once I caught on to what was happening

O Lord, my rock and fortress Shield us from the snare of the wicked Let our hands be the instrument of your justice And your grace guide our hearts Though we walk in the shadow of the serpent We shall fear no evil For you are with us Your rod and your sword

they guide and protect. Let us be the agents of your wrath and the vessels of your mercy. In your name, we go. Amen. With that, the van doors were opened and the siege began. Bravo team exited their vehicle

and took up security positions watching both ends of the alley. Once we were confident Bravo had all their angles covered, Alpha moved to the ladder at the end of the alley nearest our van. First up was Michael, slinging his rifle and bounding nimbly up the ladder. As he neared the top, he stopped and clipped himself to the ladder with a carabiner.

Once secured, he shouldered his rifle and slowly peeked over the roof's edge, clearing it before climbing up. Next was Dom, followed closely by John, Abe, and finally myself. By the time I reached the rooftop, the team was stacked up to the left side of the door, leading down to the building itself, with the exception of Michael. He had climbed the water tank that sat atop the building and opened the hatch, seemingly murmuring to himself. Once he joined the rest of us, Michael gave me a nod and bumped his fist twice on the front of his helmet, and the universal sign for Breacher Up.

I approached the door from the right, keeping out of the line of fire should anyone decide to shoot to the door. It was steel, though nowhere near as heavy as the one up front. The shotgun would be sufficient to get through. I cycled the bolt on the Beretta, removing two of the buckshot rounds I had loaded earlier and replaced them with two specialized breaching rounds. Composed of powdered steel bound in ceramic, the breaching loads would dump all the energy into the door a short range

and disintegrate just on the other side, minimizing the risk of collateral damage or ricochet. With the shotgun ready, I got into position to blow the hinges and waited on Michael's signal. Ten seconds passed before his radio quietly spoke up. Michael waved two fingers at me in a gesture vaguely resembling a finger gun. The Beretta roared as I fired two rapid blasts into the door's hinges. With two of the doors' three connections to its frame effectively vaporized, The kick I followed up with was enough to knock at three

and send it careening down the stairs. As the door came down, the beam of the flashlight affixed to my weapon flashed across the figure of a man raising a pistol. I fired twice, as fast as I could before ducking out of the opening for cover. As I withdrew, John rounded the corner of the doorframe from the opposite side, his shortened machine gun spewing a tremendous gout of flame as he let loose a hail of automatic flight. fire down the stairs. I finished reloading just as the rest of the team followed John down the stairwell.

From the street below came the thunderous blast of a breaching charge as Bravo team blew the door clear of its frame. Keeping the way, we surged down the stairs, stepping carefully over the crumpled body at the bottom. From the landing, a doorway led into a hallway that ran parallel to the staircase. Without missing a beat, John cleared the entrance and turned left. followed by Michael who proceeded to the right. He fired immediately upon rounding the corner, trailed closely by Don, who had been the next to pass through. With the immediate threat neutralized, Abe and I were cleared into the hallway.

The sounds of gunfire from the ground floor reverberated through the building. John, Michael, and Dom stacked up on the first door to our left, while Abe and myself set up to watch the hallway on our right. Halfway down the hall, about 30 feet away, lay a prone figure in a blood-soaked tank top and sweatpants. Near his outstretched arm lay a large machete. With Abe and I guarding their flank, the rest of the team went about clearing all the rooms to our left one at a time. Any interior doors were unlikely to give them much trouble, but they would call me over should the need arise. The first two rooms went without incident,

but as the breaching team stacked up on their third, a door flung open at the far end of my sector. As I raised my gun, the flashlight revealed the figure of a terrified young woman, shoeless and wearing ragged clothes. When the light hit her eyes, she screamed, turning to run before another figure darted out behind her, grabbing her savagely by her matted hair.

The scrawny bastard was dragged fully into the hall by her momentum. The sawed-off shotgun in his left hand swinging wildly about as he tried to keep his feet. Fuck. I adjusted my aim. At this distance, the pattern of the buckshot would be about 15 inches across. More than enough to put pellets into the apparent hostage if I shot center mass. When the sight settled just on the outside of that man's left hip, I fired. I guess about half the shells nine pellets struck true.

Flesh tore from the man's side and he fell to the floor as the pellet shattered his hip bone. The woman, now free of his grip, got to her feet and sprinted for the end of the hallway, disappearing into the stairwell that led to the lower levels. The moment the girl was clear of her assailant, Abe and I both fired on the wounded attack. Silencing his enraged screams and halting his attempt. to raise his weapon. The sulfurous stench and haze of gun smoke hung thick in the air as I began to reload. Abe keyed his radio.

Gravo be advised, possible hostage headed your way. Watch your fire on those stairs. Copy alpha. We'll do. Abe looked across the hall at me. Nice shot, Reed. I replied only with a curt nod, shouldering the Beretta and resuming my watch.

Two minutes passed as the rest of the team cleared the remaining rooms to my rear. From downstairs, Bravo sporadic gunfire lessened gradually before stopping completely. The tap on my shoulder and a hand gesture in my peripheral vision informed me that it was time to advance. We moved up the hallway in bounds, two watching ahead while the other three cleared each room we passed. Most of the rooms contained nothing of interest. only the odd piece of dingy, water-damaged furniture and a variety of trash. When we reached the room, the woman and her attacker had come from. I was the first to enter.

The walls were covered in sheets of notebook paper upon which were scrawled strange symbols and text in a script I had not seen before. In the center of the room was a circle of candles, roughly six feet across. Their wax melted and hardened in little puddles on the floor. Symbols matching some of those on display were painted in red within the circle's borders. A chain lay in the circle, leading across the room where it was secured to the radiator. Just what the fuck had I gotten involved in? No time to ask now.

Hopefully the debrief would hold some answers. Clear! On the way out, I stepped over the body of the man Abe and I had shut. He lay face down, blood soaking into the ugly worn-out carpet of the hall. As my light passed over him, I paused. Where the blood hadn't covered his skin, every visible inch was covered in tattoos. The man's arms, neck, and scalp were covered in symbols and script that matched those that had covered the room. I had just begun to kneel down to investigate the lifeless body when a woman.

word from Michael broke my concentration. Read, let's move. You'll learn all you need back at HQ. With that, I regrouped with the rest of the team, topping up the barretta with fresh rounds as I followed them to the end of the hallway. Upon reaching the stairwell, I once again took point, probing cautiously downwards as John covered me from the top landing. Moving in turns so that the lead man was always covered by another in a good firing position,

We quickly cleared the stairwell and proceeded into the hallway of the second floor. Here again, we cleared room after room, but found no resistance and nothing of interest save for a small cache of poorly maintained pistols and shotguns. About a dozen weapons and all, dotted with surface rust and likely stolen or sourced from local pawn shops. Before leaving the room, I emptied a box of buckshot from the accompanying ammunition stockpile into the dump bag on my carrier. With the second floor cleared, we stacked up on the door to the stairwell

as Michael keyed his radio. Bravo, this is Alpha. How copy? Roger, Bravo. Upper floor secured. Coming your way now. Watch fire. Copy that Alpha. With that, we proceeded down the stairs

single file, weapons held at low ready. As we reached ground level, Michael stopped before the entrance. Friendly's coming through. The shouted response came a moment later, muffled slightly by the thick wooden door. Clear. Passing through the door and into the building's lobby, the scent of gunpowder and fresh blood struck our nostrils. At the center of the room stood the members of Bravo Team, our mirror image in their black tactical gear.

Pools of blood dotted the floor and spatter lined the walls near the motionless bodies that littered the loitered. in a joining hallway. In all, Bravo had put down six enemy combatants upon breaching the front door, a trail of spent casings marking their path from cover to cover during the ensuing firefight. Michael crossed the room and was met halfway by Bravo's team lead. Main floor is clear. Check. Where are we out on the girl?

He gestured toward the bound sobbing woman with his chin. I haven't run a check on her yet. She says she was grabbed off the street last weekend on the way home from work. There are two more girls here when she got here. Apparently the fuckers dragged them into the basement two days ago, and they never came back. Michael grunted in response, then strode across the room, kneeling slowly beside the girl. She scarcely seemed to notice him, trembling and weas. uncontrollably as he began to speak.

What's your name? Hannah. Look at me, Hannah. Michael reached slowly for the woman's face, provoking a panicked flinch on her part. A gentle hand laid upon her shoulders seemed to soothe her greatly. In a moment, her breathing slowed

and her tremors faded. She allowed Michael to turn her face slowly towards him. There were still tears flowing, freely down her filthy blood-stained face, but her eyes held none of the wild, unbridled terror we'd seen a moment before. You're going to be all right. As he spoke, he withdrew a small piece of cloth from his pants' pocket, and from a grenade pouch on his vest came a small plastic water bottle.

Those men can't hurt you anymore. He wet the cloth thoroughly with the bottle. And we're going to get you out of here, but we still need to clear that. basement. We need you to stay outside in the van until we're finished. Is that all right? As he finished speaking, he began to wash the grime and dried blood from her face, gently wiping her clean with the cloth. Hannah, now remarkably calm, just stared wide-eyed at Michael, nodding slowly. Her face now clean, Michael gave Hannah a long drink from the remainder of the bottle, watching her intently as he did.

Once she had out of her fill, Michael turned back to Bravo's team lead. She's clear. Get her to the van. Alfa's headed to the basement while the rest of Bravo covers our six up here. Roger. Bravo's team lead then keyed his radio. Samson, 2-1 to Valkyrie. Watch fire, Valkyry. Two friendlies coming out with civilian for transport. All clear out front. With that, the leader of Bravo gestured to two of his men who cut hands.

and his restraints and escorted their route through the hole where the front door once stood. Michael turned back to our team. Ready up. Thirty seconds later, we were stacked up on either side of the doorway, leading down to the basement. I was in the lead position on the right side of the empty doorframe, John opposite me on the left. With a shared glance and a nod, I rounded the corner. The small circle of light from my weapon-mounted flashlight was. revealed an empty flooded laundry room at the bottom of the stairwell.

Six inches of water had pulled on the floor. Trash and the bloated corpses of several rats floated on the surface. On the right-hand side of the room sat the washer and dryer, decrepit and rusted with what must have been years of disuse. At the far end of the room was a heavy steel door. Its hinges and latch bolted securely into the concrete wall of the basement. The rest of the team followed behind me as I descended the stairs. The air was rich with the stench of rot and decay, growing thicker with each step we descended into the darkness.

Now standing ankle deep in the fetid water, and trying my very best not to think about what else I might be standing in, I crossed the room to examine the door more closely. It had to have been custom built. The steel of the hinges and latch is much thicker than anything sold on the civilian market. Each of the three latch is secured with a heavy titanium padlock. Painted in dark red down its center was an inverted cross, surrounded by that same strange script. We're going to have to blow it. Prep it. John give him a hand.

It took John and I two minutes to get the charges set. Given the sturdiness of the door, there was no chance in hell. we were getting through it with anything less than two heavy directional charges. In such a tight space, we'd have to take cover to keep ourselves clear of any shrapnel. Ready? I moved to join the rest of the team behind the stairs, feeding out the wire from my detonator as I crossed the room. Once settled in, I turned to Michael, awaiting the order to pop the door.

He looked me in the eye and held the gaze. Read, whatever we see on the other side of that door, shoot first. Don't hesitate. Don't ask questions, just shoot. You understand? But, sir, those girls might still... A firm hand on my shoulder cut me off. They're gone.

I know, none of this makes sense to you right now, and there's much worse yet to come. I need you to trust me and do as I say. Can you do that? I nodded, speechless in the wake of his words. Michael readied his weapon. Execute. The blast was tremendous in the confined concrete box. The thump of the charges going off was felt in our chest more than heard through our heavy ear protection.

The door had been sheared in two. The greater part of it blown violently into the room beyond. Six inches of ragged steel hung crookedly from the hinges. Wordlessly, we moved as one, crossing the room before the smoke cleared and anyone on the other side could recover from the blast. Once through the doorframe, the smell of death struck me like I kicked to the guts. I fought the urge to vomit as the stench of rotting flesh warmed its way into my nostrils and filled my lungs. Five flashlights danced across the room as we split up, clearing it from corner to corner, revealing the source of the aroma.

Bodies. Or rather, fragments of bodies, littered the room. Arms and legs floated in the flooded room, white and bloated with rot. Jesus Christ! Michael clamped a hand over my mouth. Quietly, softly at first, we could hear a woman's wordless sobs emanating from the darkness across the room. The teen leveled their weapons in the direction of the sound. Their flashlights began to flicker and burn out as the whales grew louder before dying out altogether, leaving us in complete darkness.

As the crying stopped, the sounds of many feet treading through water surged towards. us from across the room. Abe, light! Now! Notes of panic seeped into Michael's heretofore unshakable demeanor. The footsteps drew nearer,

as Abe fumbled to load his launcher, their rhythmic splashing, echoing in the cavernous room. 50 feet! Deep, rasping breaths could now be heard from the darkness. Abe cursed under his breath, followed by the same.

sound of the 203 sliding home as he managed to load the illumination round. Teen feet. Contact foot. The short-barreled machine gun spewed thunder and smoke. Rhythmic bursts of flames show glimpses of something big coming towards him. Of pale skin and of a great number of limbs bent at odd angles. John stumbled backwards, falling to his back in the filth of tepid water. A loud thumb sounded to my left, and the darkness was driven back by brilliant light light,

as a flare struck the creature swear in one of its chests. Pests, not chest. There were several. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw that night in the harsh, searing light of the flare. Loomed over John's supine figure was not human, though it had once clearly been. people. The lower half of its body was made up of several human torsos resting horizontally atop six sets of legs sewn roughly to the sides

of the trunks. Where the lower segment of its body ended, the torso continued vertically with the chests and abdomens of three women stitched shabbily together. Roddy, pallid wounds fused together at the seams to form of profane mockery of life. A vertical portion of the beast's body sported six sets of arms. The original set remaining on each torso, with a set attached to the base of the rib cage.

Topping off the abomination was a scarred and badly decayed head. Its eyes were milky white, obscured slightly by the few remaining strands of greasy, matted hair. A skinless jaw hung open. far too wide in a shriek of pain as the illumination round burned its way into the monstrosity's core in terror time stretching onward as my mind fought to make sense of the thing that stood before us i might have stood that way for eternity slack-jawed and awe-struck if not for michael he shook me from my stupor, grabbing me roughly by the front of my carrier and spinning me towards him.

Get that fucking gone up! He turned to face the creature, weapons slung and rosary stretched out before him, chanting in what sounded like Latin. The beast, for its part, had turned its attention from John to Abe, seemingly enraged by the pain he had managed to inflict on it. As it crossed in front of me, I leveled my weapon, unsure where to aim. The center mass becomes complicated when the target has greater than half a dozen torsos. I settled my sight on the point where the two segments of its body met,

running the gun dry as I dumped seven rounds of double-odd buck into the massive decrepit flesh. Each blasts or chunks of putrid flesh from a monster's trunk, causing it to stumble as it lunged towards a haven dom. The upper half of its body lolled to one side as the supporting flesh was vaporized, forcing the beast to crawl along through the water on all of its many limbs. The bolt on the barretta locked back

as the last round of fire. In my panic, I pulled the trigger twice more before realizing the gun was empty. Turning to my right, Michael had helped John to his speed and close the gap between us. Reaching me, Michael broke his chanting for an instant to call out. Alpha, behind me! Back upstairs! The three of us circled to the left, Michael in the lead and John a half step behind, strafing the creature's legs with bursts of automatic fire. My hands shaking. I struggle to load the shotgun, dropping several rounds in the process. As we close the distance, to Abe and Dom, the nightmarish construct lashed out with its forwardmost arms, grabbing the former viciously around the shen.

Our grenadier was dragged down into the murky water with a sickening crutch as the beast snapped his leg at the knee, sinking its teeth into the flesh of his thigh. As he began to cry out in pain, I leveled my weapon at the junction where his arm met torso and let loose another salvo. of buckshot. Flesh and bone were torn from the creature's flank as the arm was torn free from its body. Another shriek of agony

freed Abe's leg from the wretched jaws as the writhing mass of limbs wheeled to face John, Michael, and myself. John continued firing as I once again emptied my gun into the trunk of our attacker. The light began to fade to the flare-birded its last,

but just as I was sure the darkness would consume us entirely, a faint glow began to emanate from Michael's hand. The rosary clutched tightly in his fist began to shine, softly at first, with a gentle white light. As the intensity of his incantations increased, so too did the light the relic emitted. In a matter of seconds, the crucifix grew from a dim flicker to a blazing beacon of purest white light. The creature drew back in pain, shielding its eyes with its remaining arms

as it retreated to the edge of the light. John and I sheltered behind Michael on our way to retrieve our crippled teammate, Dom firing on our assailant the whole time. Abe was in bad shape. His leg had been broken in two places, folded at an unnatural angle just above and below the knee.

Blood poured forth in spurts where a fist-sized chunk of flesh had been torn from his thigh by jagged teeth. John looked up from the wound and met my gaze. Arterial bleed. Abe screamed as John and Dom lifted him fully from the water. His bad leg hanging limply where the bones were broken. I dropped the barretta, letting it hang by its sling as I pulled the tourniquet from my vest. Abe's howling reached its peak as I fought to stop the bleeding, hands shaking and slick with blood. It took three tries, but eventually I was able to get him stabilized, screams fading to silence as shock took hold of him.

The creature crept back and forth along the light's edge, testing its boundaries as it stalked our path to the exit. Michael maintained his sermon, a voice of thunder and fury that drove the beast back any time it dared come too close. We had nearly reached the door when it happened. Michael stumbled as he backed over the remnants of the security door, and though it was not enough to break his prayer, he took his eyes off the enemy for a split second. The beast saw its opportunity and seized it,

tearing one of its wounded legs off at the stitches, and hurling it at the priest, catching him squarely in the head. Michael's helmet took the majority of the blow, but it was still sufficient to break his concentration. He fell to his back, and the light faded, darkness swallowing all, save for the small patch of dim light coming through the door. A cut-Aves rifle from its sling as we raised the last few feet to the door. By the time I'd pulled a grenade from his carrier and loaded it,

we were halfway up the stairs in the sound of our pursuers frenzied splashing and nearly reached the door. I stepped aside, letting the rest of the team pass me by as I fixed my sights on the door. I fired as the first sets of arms passed through, followed immediately by those horrible, milky eyes and maniacal grin. The rounds struck low, detonating underneath the lower half of the creature's body, severing top from bottom. Its upper section fell limp as it hit the floor. I had just crossed the threshold at the top of the stairs when I heard the sounds of palms slapping on wood. I turned to see what resembled a large, fleshy centipede barreling up the stairs towards me.

Its upper body was now propelling itself towards me on its many hands at a terrible speed, jaws snapping ravenously all the while. I fell backwards into the lobby as I dropped the rifle, bringing my shotguns. up as I hit the ground. I fired wildly from my back, and he took the gun into the advancing of the atrocity, crippling two of its arms,

and all but destroying the upper left quadrant of its head. I jammed my weapon into its jaws when it pounced, struggling against its sheer mass as it battered me with its remaining limbs. It had nearly closed two of its hands around my throat when Michael reached

the fire alarm. Water poured down from the sprinklers, and the creature writhed in agony. Everywhere the water touched its flesh and seemed to burn. Smoke pouring up from the wounds and the whales from its mouth. Half a minute, Pat would have resembled the fetal position. It had been silent for another 15 seconds before Michael began shouting instructions. John, Dom, get him about. Side. Caseback is around the corner. Get him on the radio.

Then he turned to Bravo's leader. Harris, have your men rigged a building. They've made us a temple to Asterov. Babylon Protocol is in effect. This building needs to be rubble five minutes after we leave. With that, everyone went about their tasks with rehearsed efficiency. I sat in silent shock, trying desperately to calm my racing heart. I'm not sure how long Michael spoke to me as I remained motionless, gaze fixed on the husk of the thing that had just been trying to rip out my throat. At some point, he extended a hand to me and I took it, allowing myself to be helped to my feet.

Michael guided me toward the door as he continued speaking. You've done good work here tonight, Reed. Lucian and I will explain everything at the safe house. I stomped at the front door and turned to him, meeting his gaze. What the hell was that thing? And how did you kill it? Holy Water. I consecrated the reserve tank on the roof before we breached.

He gestured toward the thing's body. As for that, it was an avatar of the enemy. A body built for Asterooth by the cultists. With that, he turned to leave, pausing just before he stepped out into the storm. You'll be briefed at the safe house, but short version is this. You've stepped into a war. It's been going on for 2,000 years. Any good men have died fighting it.

Many more yet will. I stared silently at him, left by his answer with only more questions. Michael nodded. We're losing. Bravo went about their task as I followed Michael to the van, the heavy rain washing the blood from my clothes, and into the gutters, and snaking red trails.

Stories sink beneath the waves. We claw our way back onto dry land. Join us again next time, when we plunge into the chilling depths, where water hides. It's darkest secrets. The No Sleep Podcast is presented by Creative Reason Media.

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