The NoSleep Podcast - NoSleep Podcast - Waiting for 13 - Light and Dark

Episode Date: June 16, 2019

We're in-between Seasons 12 and 13 so we have three tales to keep you sleepless. "Not All Lighthouses Are Built to Guide Ships" written by Rene Rehn (Story starts around 00:02:30) Produced by: Jeff Clement Cast: Narrator – Jeff Clement, Mister Wallace – Mick Wingert "Why I Hate Lightning McQueen" written by Ryan Peacock (Story starts around 00:30:20) Produced by: Phil Michalski Cast: Narrator – Mike DelGaudio, Theresa – Sarah Thomas, Daniel – Elie Hirschman, Landscape Gardener – Elie Hirschman "The Things Cassie Saw" written by Charlotte Ledville (Story starts around 00:55:00) Produced by: Phil Michalski Cast: Samantha – Addison Peacock , Cassie – Jessica McEvoy , Corey – Peter Lewis , Mom – Nikolle Doolin, Dad – David Cummings, Teacher – Sarah Thomas, Weather Announcer – Dan Zappulla Click here to learn more about the voice actors on The NoSleep Podcast   Click here to learn more about Rene Rehn   Executive Producer & Host: David Cummings Musical score composed by: Brandon Boone "Waiting for 13" illustration courtesy of Krista Neubert Audio program ©2019 - Creative Reason Media Inc. - All Rights Reserved - No reproduction or use of this content is permitted without the express written consent of Creative Reason Media Inc. The copyrights for each story are held by the respective authors. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Welcome to our sleepless sanctuary. You enter at your own risk and choose to be entertained with dark and disturbing horror stories. You have been warned for the dark hours when you dare not clitles of horror to frighten and disturbed. As the sleepless hours tick. Brace yourself. for the no sleep podcast. It's the no sleep podcast. I'm David Cummings.

Thanks for joining us. As we ramp up for our big season 13 premiere next weekend, we have this episode with three stories to wet your appetite. And speaking of our season 13 premiere, I have some exciting news to share. Well, more like tease, I suppose. You see, we're going to be featuring a special guest star on Season 13, Episode 1.

This is a major Hollywood star who has appeared in some of the biggest blockbusters of this century. I don't want to give away too much now, but we'll be dropping hints on social media in the days leading up to the premiere. See if you can guess the guest before we announce who it is.

But don't start wondering yet. You have to pay attention to the show this week, because now it's time for our service. to begin. Bow your heads and hear our words. In our first tale, we're reminded of how important lighthouses are at saving lives. Many a sailor has avoided Davy Jones locker, thanks to their glow shining out across the night. But what if a lighthouse was required to do more than just direct seafaring vessels to safety? Author René Ren introduces us to one such beacon that serves a terrifying purpose. Performing this tale are Jeff Clement and Mick Wingert. So keep an eye on the

horizon and pray that you're not stranded here in high tide. You see, because not all lighthouses are built to guide ships. Most old lighthouses have turned into useless remnants of the past. New technology, modern ships, and GPS have made them almost obsolete. Not in my town, though. Our old lighthouse is still very much operative and watched over by an old lighthouse keeper. Each night the light beam moves over the surface of the ocean till the sun comes up. My town is a small, remote coastal town in northern Maine. Only a few thousand people live here and we scarcely get visitors. It also isn't too far-fetched to say we're a bit behind. I graduated school with barely average grades.

For the first two years, I worked here and there to earn some money, but it never was anything substantial. It was earlier this year that I found out that the old lighthouse keeper was retiring. Of course, someone was needed to replace him. It wasn't exactly my dream job, but at least it would be a permanent position. I visited the old man, Mr. Wallace, right away and told him about my interest in the job. I somehow must have made an impression on the guy. During the interviews, he singled me out between the candidates and told me he'd give me a chance. On my first official day, the old man and I met up in front of the lighthouse.

I was first to arrive and noticed him from afar. He was walking in my direction, dragging one of his legs behind. A limp, I thought. Once he reached me, he handed me a cup of steaming liquid. For you, winter day must be getting to you, boy. Thanks. He took a deep sip from his cup, took out an old key ring, and stepped toward the entrance door. This thing's a bitch to open.

He started to turn the key around, but the door wouldn't budge. Come on, you bloody! Finally, there was a loud clang as the door sprang open. You coming? As I followed him inside, I noticed how dirty and narrow the lighthouse was. When I was a kid, it had been this imposing grand building. Now I saw that it was pretty unimpressive. There was another door opposite the entrance door.

Mr. Wallace didn't address it at all, and instead began his ascent up the stairs. Before I followed, I took a sip from the cup you'd given me. I almost spat it out again. This wasn't coffee as I'd expected. What the hell's that stuff? Grog, warms you right up, doesn't it? I frowned, at which point the old man started laughing. You'll get used to it.

Mr. Wallace had quite a hard time with the stairs. He had to almost drag himself upwards. It was no wonder he was retiring. I heard him wheeze and groan as he clung to the railing. A few times he had to stop to catch his breath. You okay there, Mr. Wallace? Need a hand? Oh, I've been making my way up those damn stairs for half a century, boy.

I'll be fine. Doing it a few more times. Once we'd made it upstairs, the old man showed me around. Better I get comfortable. around here. You'll be spending a lot of time in this room. As I looked around, I saw an old radio system.

Other than that, there was a table, a few chairs, a telescope, two cupboards, and a small oil stove. The rest of the room was empty. There was a metal ladder that led up from here to the lantern room above. Ain't much need

to get up there, except to give that thing a checkup before it turns dark. With that, he motioned for me to follow him upstairs and showed me how to make sure the lamp was working. It didn't take long, and we soon went down again. Very much to do up here. Keep a watch till morning.

Make sure everything goes well. So, uh, do you get many calls up here? There aren't many ships coming to town anymore, are there? I haven't gotten a call in years. Ain't no one coming here. And if they do, it's in... those new modern ships. They don't need no old lighthouse anymore.

Then why are we even here? Doesn't it mean this place is useless? I mean, not like I'm complaining or anything. I can... This place ain't useless, boy. You don't know what's out there, do you? It ain't those ships that need us. It's the town.

For a moment, I looked at him before I burst out laughing. Okay, you almost got me. Ain't joking around, boy. Yeah, sure, I thought. But I kept my mouth shut. Now, here's the thing about my town. You could say it has a history. Over the decades, a number of strange things have happened.

One such story is about a fisher boat that went out one morning with a crew of eight. That same evening the boat returned, but without any sign of the crew, the men stayed missing. Another tale is about an artist who decided to paint the moonlit sea. The next morning, they found the men babbling nonsense. He'd gone mad overnight. By now, natural explanations have been found for almost all of these stories. The artist had a history of mental illness.

The fisher boat most likely got caught up in a storm. Back in the day, though, these stories fed into people's superstitions. With the years, they became local legends. There are many people in this town, even today, who believe in the supernatural. From the way Mr. Wallace had talked, I could tell he was one of them. Who was I to blame him, though? After half a century up here, I'd mostly tell myself similar things to give meaning to what I was doing. Now there's one more thing I gotta show you.

With that, he made his way down the spiral staircase again. Once we reached the bottom, he opened the door I'd seen before. This is the generator room. This lighthouse is old. The cables and power lines are too. When it storms a little too much, the power can cut out. If that happens, you turn on this baby here, the light. has to stay on at all times.

Then he showed me in my newt detail, how to handle the generator. Turn this here and that there. If this happens, you need to add some oil. If that happens, the fuel is empty. If the light doesn't turn on once you start it, check the cables. This went on for almost half an hour, and multiple times he asked me if I understood him. Once he finished his explanations,

the old man told me he'd stick around for the first couple of nights. He'd show me the ropes, he said. The three nights Mr. Wallace stayed at the lighthouse with me were quite all right. I had expected him to be somewhat uptight and boring, but he wasn't at all. He cursed like a sailor, knew an endless amount of dirty jokes, and had quite a few stories to tell. He even brought some booze.

It was to keep the mood as merry as possible. he said. One of the things he did after first arriving was to give the old generator a check-up. After that, he made his way up to the lantern room, to do the same to the lamp. His diligence surprised me. On the last day, I told him I'd be sure to pay him a visit in time. He said that instead of making empty promises, I'd do well to remember what he told me on the first day. Whatever happens.

Always make sure this light is on. On my first day alone, I made sure to follow the old man's routine to the point. First the generator, then the lamp, then everything else. Everything else pretty much meant the radio system. To be honest, I had no idea why we even kept bothering with the damned radio. There'd be nothing but static on it, and I doubted it would change anytime soon, if ever. That first night alone was terribly. For a while, I rearranged the room to my liking and then cleaned it out a bit.

Unfortunately, this could only fill so much time. The rest of the night, I was sitting in one of the chairs, staring out at the dark sea. I played around on my phone for a bit, but without any reception, there wasn't much to do. I cursed it myself for not bringing anything else. I wouldn't make that mistake twice. For the first two weeks, I was serious about everything. I was new on the job, after all. Once routine settled in, things changed.

Nothing had happened so far, and I was sure it would stay that way. Quite a few times I turned the radio's volume up in the unlikely case of an emergency, and settled in for a nap. At other times, I brought my laptop. and spent the night watching movies or a TV show. To be honest, I felt a little bad about it. I'd been on the job for a good month when the first power outage occurred. A terrible storm was raging, and when the power turned off, I went down to the emergency generator.

In the room, I could hear the raging of the storm, the shrieking of the wind, and the waves crashing against the beach. It was one hell of a storm. The power outage lasted until early morning, long after the worst of the storm was over. The second power outage came out of nowhere. The lights flickered and soon went out completely. Again, I made my way down to the generator. Again, I heard sounds from outside and wondered if a new storm was coming up.

Soon, the rattling of the generator replaced the sounds. This time, the power outage didn't last for long. After not even half an hour, I was on my way back down to turn the damn thing back off. What a complete waste of time. I shut it down, locked the generator room behind me, and made my way back up. Once I was up again, I slumped down in my chair. Why did I even go through all that trouble? Not like it mattered anyway.

Wasn't like any ships would crash. For the next couple of weeks, nothing happened. Then one night, the power went off again. Oh, come on. Really? I was watching a movie on my laptop. I wasn't in the mood for getting up and making my way down to the generator yet again. The power would most likely come back in an hour anyway. Not like there was a storm or something.

I had one look out at sea and saw it was completely calm. I turned the movie back on, but after a while, I started to hear something. At first I thought it was part of the movie, but when I paused it, the sound was still there. It was a low melody or a type of wordless singing. I looked around the room for the source of the sound, but found nothing. It couldn't be the radio, could it? Wasn't it off due to the power outage? I went forward, but before I could reach it, the weird singing got louder.

It must be coming from outside, I realized. As I turned to the window, I saw that the calm sea had turned into raging waves. How did it change so quickly? Then I saw something emerge from between the waves. I stepped to the telescope and used it to see what was going on. As I focused the telescope, the first thing I saw was dark hair. What followed was white skin that shimmered in the moonlight. I gasped as I finally saw a face.

It was the face of absolute beauty. Soon I could see the naked upper body of a young woman above the waves. I stumbled back from the telescope, shook my head, opened and closed my my eyes and looked again. She was still there. Was this a mermaid? Couldn't be. Mermaids weren't real. But then, what was I seeing? As I watched on, more started emerging from the sea. They all were swimming together towards the beach, all the while the sea was raging around them. I wondered how these frail beings were able to move so swiftly and carelessly in this choppy sea. Suddenly, a flare was fired into the sky. It illuminated the sea into glaring red light. The beings in the water

recoiled from it. They were screaming and shrieking, throwing themselves backward. Before I could wonder who had fired the flare, I saw something horrific. Now their beautiful face, they're beautiful faces and perfect bodies were replaced by a nightmarish reality. Where I had seen beautiful mermaids before, I now saw bloated, fishy monstrosities. There was no hair or skin anymore, just scales. There were no beautiful faces, just empty staring eyes. Where I had seen smiles before, there were now giant jaws that opened to rows of fangs. I watched it fear as those gigantic creatures burst through the waves and water alike. I was glued to the telescope. Then the light of the flare died away. The monstrous beings transformed back into beautiful

mermaids. Yet again they were frolicking in the water. This time, though, the illusion wasn't perfect. My brain had seen reality, so it refused to discard it altogether. The beautiful faces of the mermaids were disfigured by maws filled with fangs. Their bodies were still shimmering in the moonlight, but now they were bloated and disgusting. For a few seconds, I stood there, dumbfounded. From where I was, I could see more and more. more of them appearing in the water.

Then my grip on reality returned, and I remembered the words of Mr. Wallace. You don't know what's out there, do you? There ain't those ships that need us. It's the town. It finally dawned on me. It must have been those things he'd been talking about. They'd recoiled at the flare.

The light was to keep them out? As this thought crossed my mind, I realized the terrible mistake I'd made. If not for the flare, I'd never... I rushed to the stairs. Taking multiple steps at a time, I made my way to the generator room. I tried to open the door, but it was locked as always. I reached into my pocket and tried to find the right key. The noise outside grew louder as well as nearer.

I couldn't concentrate. All I had on my mind was the image of the monsters out there. Any moment now, they could reach the beach. And with it, this lighthouse. There was no singing anymore. Just loud, roaring. As the door sprang open, I hurried inside and tried to turn the generator on. Why aren't you working?

I kicked it and tried again. But still, nothing. I was starting to panic. I tried again. Then, I remembered the oil. Since the last power outage, I hadn't checked the thing at all. Why the fuck now? Why the hell? It's just your imagination. It's just your imagination. Okay? There's nothing. I froze up. I held my breath. Each second turned into an eternity. Once I was sure that everything was quiet. I dared to breathe again.

It was only a few feet away from me. I rummaged through the shelf to find the oil. Where the fuck is it? It has to be here somewhere. Fear had overtaken me completely. I looked at the shelf but wasn't seeing anything. My eyes wandered from left to right and then to the left again. There was nothing there.

Something was trying to tear its way through the metal. At that moment, I saw the bottle of oil. But as I picked it up, it slipped right through my fingers. I cursed again, then picked it up once more. Then I started to pour the oil into the generator. Sweat dripped from my forehead. My body was shaking. I spilled more than half of the oil.

Would the light even do something? The flare had worked, but if those things were already out of the water, what if... I didn't get to finish the thought. The banging and tearing at the lighthouse door stopped. Moments later, I saw the door knob but turn. The image of Mr. Wallace locking the door each morning appeared in my mind. He held the key in his hand, put it into the keyhole and turned it twice. giving me a nod.

You never know who shows up here. I hadn't locked the door. I hadn't locked it in weeks. I stood there but couldn't move as I heard the door open. For a moment, slim, feminine fingers pushed themselves between doorframe and door. Then reality replaced them. And a claw-like hand ripped the door open. The bloated body of one of the door.

the fishy abominations appeared outside the door. In the dark of the night, I wasn't sure what I was seeing. There were too many appendages. It looked to me as if it was a grown-together mass of various creatures. I saw legs and arms, but also fins and gills. The body itself was long and much more muscular than I thought. I tried to start the generator again. but nothing happened.

The monstrosity roared at me. This time so loud my ears were ringing. I saw its dead eyes focus on me. The jaws started to open and close in anticipation before it slithered forward. And it tried to squeeze its body through the door. As it came closer and closer, I tried the generator again and again.

Long scale. Appendages shot forward, clinging to the door of the generator room, as it dragged itself forward, inch by inch, the generator finally rattled to life. With the lights of the room in a stairway flashed to life, the creature roared and screamed up in pain. It raged and yanked itself backward to escape the light. The stare of the empty, fishy eyes rested on me the whole time. They promised that the thing would return one day, and it would drag me down into the dark depths it had come from.

Then the creature all but vanished. I threw the door shut and walked it. Then, for the remainder of the night, I sat shivering in the room at the top of the lighthouse. I sat there, covered in a blanket, shaking and scanning the sea. Thankfully, I saw nothing. Even at dawn, I didn't move. After more than an hour, I started to go through the old man's routine.

It wasn't my sense of duty, nor was a diligence. It was fear. I pushed the moment when I'd leave the lighthouse off as far as possible. In my mind, the thing was still out there waiting for me. For a long time, I contemplated if I should stay inside. After I had checked the outside from the top more than half a dozen times, I decided to leave. By now it was past 8 in the morning, and the sun had been up for more than three hours. Nothing reminded me of the abominations I had seen.

On my way home, I noticed a commotion near the beach. As I got closer, I saw that the police were there as well. I pushed myself through the crowd to see what had happened. The sand in front of me was splattered with blood. In the middle of it was a covered-up body. Torn to pieces, I had heard one of the police officers say. Then I noticed a flare gun, lying next to the corpse.

Who? Who is it? At first they ignored me, but finally one of them came towards me. He recognized me as the new lighthouse keeper and took me aside. The name he told me made my heart drop.

It was Jeremy Wallace. I later found out that even though he had retired as the lighthouse keeper, he still went out to the beach each night. After he gave up his job, he had still continued to keep watch. He must have been concerned when the lamp of the lighthouse turned off and didn't come back on. Once he saw the beasts closing in on the beach, he must have used the flare gun to ward them off. Once the light of the flare died and the light of the lamp didn't return, those beasts had come after him.

I remembered the limp. There was no way he could have gotten away if I'd only turned on the light earlier. I thought back to the flare. Without it, I would have never even recognized what danger I was in. Those beasts might have very well entered the lighthouse and torn me to pieces. Not only that, they might have gone for the town as well. Tears of frustration came to my eyes.

while I had ignored my duty, it had been this old man who had saved us all, and he had done it at the cost of his life. After that day, I often catch myself thinking about Mr. Wallace. Now that I know what's out there, I never sleep or take my job lightly anymore. I don't bring anything to read. Instead, I'm busy making sure the lighthouse. is in prime condition. Many times now I used the stove to heat up grog. At first, I drank it only to keep the memory of those days with the old man alive. But in the end, he was right. I did get used to it.

Animation is very popular these days. It's easy to see why cartoons capture the imaginations of kids and adults everywhere. But in this tale, shared by... by author Ryan Peacock. One child's obsession with the movie Cars leads his father into a living nightmare. Performing this tale are Mike Delgado, Sarah Thomas, and Ellie Hirschman. So by all means, marvel at the CGI and buy the T-shirts, but spare a thought for this one man as we find out why I hate Lightning McQueen. I don't think I can put into words how good it felt.

become a father. I love Daniel more than I could possibly say. His bright, shining smile, his endless curiosity about the world around him, and his gentle, loving nature. I didn't think I was capable of loving someone else this much. But every time I heard his little laugh or saw his smile, I knew. Even the smallest things he did made me so incredibly proud. Every achievement he earned was something I wanted to celebrate. Even the interests he had that I couldn't stand, at least I pretended. Cars was one of those interests.

You know, the Disney movies with Owen Wilson playing Lightning McQueen, the red race car who unsurprisingly loved racing. I suppose the movies weren't that bad. But ever since he'd been a baby, Daniel had loved watching the first two, and his interest hadn't gone anywhere by the time the third one came around. I'd been planning to take him.

on opening night. I'll admit, even I was a little excited for it, partly because the trailer showed Lightning McQueen getting into a terrible crash, and I was hoping that might mean the movie would be a little bit more interesting. And partially, because I wanted a break from job hunting. See, I'd been a salesman at the local Chevy dealership for the past few years. I'd actually been hoping to work my way up to sales manager. Although, I suppose those hopes got dashed when half the sales team was laid off, myself included. I didn't mind watching Daniel after school, but I didn't like letting my wife be the only breadwinner. Teresa kept assuring me it was fine, that I'd find something, that she was making enough to support us for now.

For the time being, life went on, just like it was supposed to. It was a fairly warm October that year. Teresa had to be down at the hospital early, so it was up to me to get Daniel ready and walk him to school. He liked school. He was a friendly boy, so he seemed to make him to make him. friends easily. Although kids at that age seemed to think everyone in their class as their friend. We left a little early, taking in the beautiful autumn leaves and early Halloween decorations as we walked over. We lived in a quaint little suburban neighborhood. You know, the houses were close together and almost all identical, a one-car driveway and a tree out front of each one.

I noticed one of the neighbors had hung a scary spider web in the tree out in front of their house, and it got me thinking what I might do to our tree. I'd been walking alongside Daniel and lost in thought, which was probably why I didn't notice anything until he pointed it out to me. Daddy, look, it's lightning. I was jolted out of my thoughts and looked over to where Daniel was pointing. There was a bright red coop just down the street with a familiar design. The grill was a custom job depicting the wry smile of Lightning McQueen.

The windshield even depicted his eyes. The resemblance to the character was almost purrish. I want to see. Daniel almost ran across the street to get a better look. I stopped him, even though there weren't any cars coming, to take a quick look around and be sure, before taking his hand and letting him cross the street with me. I wonder who owns him. Up close, the detail was no less stunning, and maybe even a little bit creepy.

Daniel didn't seem to notice that, though. All he cared about was that it was lightning, right here in front of him. Daddy, can I go inside? Maybe later. I don't think we can go in right now. The car was parked beside a playground that we frequented, abandoned at that time of the day. I figured one of the nearby houses must have owned it, but wasn't sure who. I tell you what, I'll see if I can find out who owns it, and maybe he'll let you check it out. Daniel seemed fine with that and gave the car one parting look before he let me lead him away.

I spent the day applying to new jobs and had one phone interview with a woman who, I'm sure, was only trying to be as condescending as humanly possible. I did a quick Google search to see if anyone in my area owned a Lightning McQueen model and found myself looking at similar cars online. Nothing was quite the same as the one I saw. The eyes and the mouth were different. I figured that whoever had made the replica must have been some sort of hobbyist who'd have documented on a YouTube channel or at least sought some sort of recognition

for all their hard work. But I came up with nothing. When the afternoon came, I prepared Daniel's after-school snack and left to go pick him up. Passing by the playground, I looked around for any sign of that Lightning McQueen car. No luck. Whoever owned it must have moved it. I didn't dwell on it too much, figuring I'd see it again later. Later came a lot faster than I expected.

There was the damn thing parked right outside the school. For a moment, I wondered if it belonged to some other kid's parent and maybe they'd made it to impress them. Lightning was certainly getting a lot of attention, with all sorts of little kids crowded around him. Daniel was among them. When he saw me coming, he said a quick goodbye to one of his friends, Toby, and rushed over to me. Daddy, look, Lightning McQueen came to visit. So he did. Did you get to go inside? No, he's just been sitting there all day. Now that struck me as a little odd. I would have thought whoever had made the car would come out and claim some credit for their work. Really? You didn't see his owner?

No. I don't think anyone's inside right now. I didn't know how he could be so sure. I couldn't see through the windows. Come to think of it, I wasn't entirely sure how a driver would see out those windows. Maybe he'll still be there tomorrow. Yes, maybe. I took his hand to lead him home. I jolted awake, confused and disoriented, unsure if I was dreaming or not. I shambled to my bedroom window to look out over the front yard.

I couldn't see anything in the darkness aside from an empty street out front. For a few moments, I listened to the semi-silence of the suburban night. Paul, what is it? Teresa was standing by the bed, awaiting my verdict. I don't know. I don't see any damage, but... Should we go out and look? Part of me didn't really want to. But I wasn't sure of how much sleep I'd get unless I confirmed that they hadn't hit our car

in the driveway. I put on a pair of slippers and headed downstairs, out the front door to assess the damage. I swore under my breath when I saw what had happened. Our small tree was almost snapped in half and nearly uprooted. Something had hit it with a lot of force. My first assumption was a drunk driver, and I looked around for any sign of them, but I saw nothing on my empty street. I rushed back inside to share my findings with Teresa, and we called the cops. The police weren't able to do much aside from take a statement and look around a little. There was no saving the tree, so I'd need to have what was left of it removed. They weren't able to find any broken off pieces of the car, either. Whatever had invaded the calm of our lives was long gone. Teresa and I didn't get much sleep

that night after putting Daniel back to bed after the commotion. I stayed up looking through job boards and then watching YouTube videos. By the time I had to take Daniel to school, I was dead tired and shuffled through the motions of that morning. Lightning McQueen hadn't moved from his spot from yesterday and remained parked out front of the school. Daniel stared at it and smiled, but didn't seem as interested in him today. Neither of us mentioned it. I kissed him on the cheek and headed back home, taking only a brief glance at the car before leaving. As soon as I got home, I looked up some cheap landscaping company and called them about removing the tree.

I could probably book something in for tomorrow. It's weird. We got a lot of calls like this today. For broken trees? Yeah, there's been a bunch all over the neighborhood. I think a bunch of kids... I couldn't imagine a group of teenagers deliberately crashing their cars into trees for fun, even if they were just small trees. But I had no other explanation for what had happened.

I took the slot for the next day and turned on the TV to check out the news. Sure enough, there was a report on all the vandalism from the night before. Our cat Urkel rubbed against my... legs as I watched, and I absent-mindedly pended him before letting him out to wander the neighborhood. After that, I took a nap on the couch, burnt out from all that excitement last night. After waking, I set to work on Daniel's after-school snack and checked the back door to see if Urkel had come back. No sign of him, but I wasn't too worried about that. He seemed to prefer being outdoors, and I knew he'd come back when he got tired. So I went out to go pick up Daniel.

Lightning McQueen was gone when I got to the school, and I noticed to be. a police cruiser parked in the kissing ride, which made me feel uneasy. I hope everything's all right. Daniel stared at the cruiser as if he was surprised to find it there. Did something happen today? I don't know. I didn't see. Rick said the D word. So maybe that's why? Well, I highly doubted the cops are going to show up just because some kid uttered a cuss.

I stared at the cruiser and at the empty space where Lightning McQueen had been the day before. No lightning today? He left. He took Toby for a ride, though. My heart stopped in my chest. Lightning took Toby? Yeah. Toby was looking at him during recess, and his door opened, so he got in, and they left.

I stared at that cop car, feeling physically ill as I realized why they were there. I knew Toby's parents. They were good people, and I couldn't imagine what they were going through at that moment. moment. I took Daniel by the hand and pulled him towards home, trying to keep calm as I went. When I got there, I let Daniel eat a snack and watch TV while I called Teresa and told her what had happened. Then I called Toby's parents to check in with them. Toby was missing, and the suspect had been driving a car that looked like Lightning McQueen. The police came by briefly to ask Daniel some questions. The police were gentle, even though Daniel wasn't able to give them anything

of value. He was too young to understand the danger. I'd heard an amber alert was issued, but I had a sinking fear in my stomach that it was too late. I considered keeping Daniel home from school the next day. I'd heard nothing about Toby being found and that sick feeling in my stomach hadn't passed, but eventually I relented. The school was still open and was being watched by the police. Maybe it was safer to let him go. Reluctantly, I went through our morning routine and walked. him to school, eyes appealed for that fucking Lightning McQueen car. The other parents dropping off their children seemed grim and shifty. The demeanor was more guarded and uneasy. Some of the parents I usually chatted with ignored me in favor of making sure their own kids were safe.

I didn't take it personally. A lot had chosen to stay home. I didn't blame them for that either. I watched Daniel until he was safely inside the school and walked home slowly. My feet almost dragging on the sidewalk. It wasn't until I was almost home that I remembered something I'd completely forgotten about in the stress that it defined last night. Urkel. As I got closer to home, I spotted him on the street. Recognition immediately tore my mind away from every other thought as I saw that tuft of orange fur. I broke into a run, already fearing the worst. His green eyes stared vacantly upwards, and his mouth was open with flies already beginning to inspect it. This had been recent.

This had just happened. I couldn't bring myself to look at the blood spatter on the pavement and the guts. I wanted to be sick. I wanted to cry, as if this week couldn't possibly get any worse. I cleaned up the mess, wrapping up what remained of poor Urkel in a towel and burying him out back. I was just finished patting down the earth when the landscapers arrived to take care of the tree. As the landscapers worked, I sat in my living room, still trying to process all that had happened over the past few days. I tried to tell myself that it was all a random series of events, unconnected and unfortunate.

But it felt like much more than that. Three vehicle incidents in less than three days, all coinciding with the arrival of that fucking Lightning McQueen replica. It seemed too crazy to be true. I tried not to think about it. I turned on the TV, watching the news to try and take my mind off things. That didn't work either. There'd been a murder. Not just a hit and run.

Oh no. Worse. A car had gone off the road and right into the living room of a house. Not far from where I lived. They'd all been killed in the accident. Oh, almost all of them. There was no sign of the driver or the car. And then it revealed the names of the deceased.

Names I recognized. They weren't friends. I don't think I even knew where they lived until then. But I'd met them out in front of Daniel's school. And then they showed a picture of the house, a house almost identical to mine. I couldn't help but notice that there wasn't a tree out front of that house. but there was a fresh mound of dirt where the tree had once been, a mound of dirt that looked a lot like the one that would be outside my house very soon.

I felt myself start to shake. There was no denying this. Something was wrong, and I didn't even know how to begin explaining any of it. Some lunatic in a Lightning McQueen car was driving around, kidnapping children, and crashing into things? It occurred to me that if he had been behind all that damage, then perhaps his car would have shown signs of where. There'd been no such thing when I'd seen it last,

but that wasn't much of a comfort, was it? I watched that report on the news, unable to understand the why behind any of this, until I eventually decided that I just didn't care, why didn't matter. The police could handle that. All I needed was to take care of my family. So I booked a hotel right then and there.

Third floor, where absolutely no car could possibly reach us. After ending the call, I set to packing our things immediately. When the time came to get Daniel, I didn't bother making him a snack. I called Teresa and told her to come home. I told her it was urgent and then went to get our son. I figured I could meet her at home and then we could leave immediately. Daniel seemed quieter when I picked him up, and I kept a brisk pace on the walk home, holding his little hand tightly. Is Toby coming back?

I don't know. I hope so. I hope the police bring him back safe. Daniel glanced over his shoulder. Me too. It seems like such a minor conversation. The kind of thing I wouldn't even remember later. When we got home, Teresa was already there, and she almost sprinted towards me. By the time I was close enough to see why, I barely noticed her at all. Where my front door had once been, there was now a gaping hole of splintered wood and drywall,

roughly the size of a car. It looked sickeningly like the house I'd seen on the news earlier. The tire tracks on my lawn passed over where my tree had once been, and I felt that gnawing sickness in my stomach return, as I realized that I could have easily. bit inside the house when the car had come. Paul, what the fuck is going on? In the back of my mind, I was almost grateful for the damage,

since at least my concerns had been vindicated. I'll explain later. We need to go now. Get in the car. I'll get the suitcases. I've already booked a hotel. I handed Daniel off to her and headed towards where my front door had once been. I hurried through the ruins of my house and upstairs to get our luggage.

as I retrieved the suitcase from mine and Teresa's room. I saw him through the window. Eitney McQueen parked patiently across the street. My eyes widened in horror. The model had taken some damage. The paint was scratched and one of the mirrors had broken off. I'd expected whoever was behind the wheel of that goddamn thing to be long gone, but no, they'd just been waiting for another chance.

I didn't waste my time with the suitcases. I sprinted back down the stairs. I hit the front door running and charged out, halting in my tracks as I saw it just what had happened to Teresa. She was pinned between the side of her van and Lightning McQueen. The model had hit her head on and backed up, leaving her to collapse uselessly to the ground. Through the windows of the van, I could see Daniel clearly terrified.

Lightning hit the van again. Tires rolling over Teresa as it did. The van rocked. I screamed, but I remained frozen and helpless. Daniel was struggling to escape. He opened the door of the van as lightning reared up to ram it again. Daniel looked at me. I tried to signal to him to stop.

I tried to yell. But before I could even react, Daniel was running towards me. I can't remember if I did. Lightning swerved away from the van, going around it and hitting the speed again. Daniel, Daniel froze in his tracks, looking into the headlights of the oncoming car as it sped towards him. The blink of an eye, snarling mouth hit Daniel head on, dashing him against the brick of my house, before the car shifted into reverse. I lost control of myself.

I ran towards Daniel, but I could tell. There's no saving him. I can only hope that he died on impact. The headlights of the car fixated on me. It's driver, if there was a driver, studying me from behind the eyes on the windshield. A car's approached. All I could do was watch helplessly as Lightning McQueen sped off down the street. I'm told the police found pieces of the car abandoned in an old lockup downtown.

Whoever had made the thing just swapped out what they couldn't fix just to keep the vehicle looking somewhat pristine. They had a whole stack of spare parts just waiting to be. That was all just car parts. No mementos, no personal effects, no grand master plan detailed and insanely scribbled journals. Just spare parts for Lightning McQueen. Of course, they never identified the culprit. it. They never even worked out why he did it. He took Teresa off life support last week, after the doctors declared complete brain death. Her loss was just another painful blow. I can't say how much I spent

trying to save her. More than I had, I'm sure. I'm told that her organs might help save some lies. That's not much consolation. I've buried her beside Daniel. She loved him as much as I did. and if it had been me, it's what I'd have wanted. I saw on the news that a Lightning McQueen model tore through a playground last month, killing six people. Four of them were kids. I've heard it mentioned as having been seen in a few cases of child abductions, too. I still don't know why.

Maybe some sick bastard out there just likes killing kids, making his car look like Lightning McQueen was the best way to get close. hiding in plain sight and the answers. What I know for sure is that I have nothing left in this world. Daniel is gone. So is Teresa.

Tonight, I'm going for a walk on the freeway. If Lightning McQueen won't take me out. In our final tale, we join two girls who find themselves in the middle of a strange, countrywide snowstorm. Bad weather can make. make you feel blue, so it's important to check on those around you who might be vulnerable. In this tale, shared with us by author Charlotte Ledville, we learn what can happen when an unusual

person finds themselves in an equally unusual situation. Performing this tale are Addison Peacock, Jessica McAvoy, Peter Lewis, Nicole Doolin, Sarah Thomas, and Dan Zapula. So wrap up warm and keep up warm. an eye on those around you, because maybe then you can avoid seeing the things Cassie saw. Due to unforeseen inclement weather, all classes are canceled until further notice. Please remain in your classrooms to await further instruction. It was the middle of science class when we heard this.

Many kids cheered, eliciting a swift, frustrated wave from the teacher. She picked up the phone and hung up seconds later, having spoken to no one. She had called three times before sinking into her chair, defeated. Just work on the problems on page 60 until I figure out what's going on. I worked my way through the problems, while other students muttered about the closing or gave each other answers. Describe the function of the cytoplasm. What part of the cell contains genetic information? Name two fundamental differences between a plant cell and an animal cell.

Samantha? I looked up. The teachers stood next to one of the ladies from the office, Karen. My friend Cassie accompanied her. Cassie's jacket was draped over her arm, and she already had her backpack. I walked up to the front of the room. Your mom can't get out of work until two, so your brother is going to pick you up. The high school is shutting down too. My mom is stuck at the hospital, so I'm going home with you. Karen nodded. You two are free to head out to the pickup area. Your brother should be here soon. Tell him I said hi, okay?

I will, thank you. It was already snowing when we got outside. I looked around for someone else that I knew and saw my friend Michelle. I waved and started to walk toward her, but Cassie didn't follow me. Don't she hates me. Michelle liked to call her crazy Cassie behind her back.

I'd never told Cassie this, and I didn't know how she found out. Okay, I don't think she sees us. It's fine. I don't think she hates you, though. Cassie rolled her eyes at my useless attempt at making her feel better. We both knew the truth. The wind picked up, blowing my hood from my head. We huddled closer together and shoved our hands into our pockets.

Stormy winters were the norm around here, but it was strange for them to end school like that with no warning. Usually they canceled it for the day, or we went in late to give the plow trucks time to clean up the roads from overnight snow. I heard the sound of a horn honking and saw my brother's car pull up next to the Hill County Middle School sign. His windows rolled down as we trotted up to the car. Ladies? My dad was already home when Corey pulled into the driveway in his beat-up old Kia. Dad was outside, hammering plywood sheets up for the windows.

Corey parked the car and got out. What are you doing? News said everyone should board up their windows. Supposed to be a bad one. Storms all over the country. Really unusual. Go get a hammer from the shed and help me out here. I was going to start my homework.

Yeah, good one. Go get a hammer. Cassie giggled at their bickering as we made our way up the walk and inside the house. The snow was already deep enough to leave perfect little crunchy shoe. prints. We peeled our clothes off and raided the fridge. While we sat down to our afternoon snack, we heard the front door open. The sound of heavy boots came down the hallway, and dad appeared in the kitchen doorway. Sorry, girls, I need you to shovel and salt the driveway so mom can get in. It's really coming down. It can't be that bad. It couldn't have snowed so much since we got home that

Mom wouldn't be able to get in, right? Sam, please. It was not a polite please, but a demanding one. And in his typical fashion, he walked away before I could argue with him. The air filled with the sound of plastic shovels scraping against asphalt and nails being hammered into wood. My mom pulled up at 1.30 p.m., earlier than expected. She spotted them boarding up the windows when she got out of her SUV. Oh, is that really?

really necessary. News said it was a good idea. Just the first floor, in case the snow piles up. Since when do you, just be careful? I sat in front of the fireplace later with Cassie making s'mores. Corey was in his room playing video games, and my parents were in the kitchen, drinking wine and watching the news. It was strange inside, with all the windows boarded up. I never realized how a familiar place could become so foreign. with just one small change. Due to the sudden rash of storms all down the east coast and across the country, citizens are being asked to shelter in place.

Evacuation is not recommended at this time. All flights have been grounded until further notice, and the president has declared a national emergency. The phone rang, and I heard my mother answer it. A few minutes later, she appeared in the kitchen doorway. Cassie, your mom can't make it home. She snowed in at the hospital. She's going to stay at the hotel across the street.

You'll have to spend the night with us, kiddo. Woo-hoo! A sleepover, girls! I knew it was an attempt to relieve some of the tension, but no one responded. What about school? It's canceled. You probably won't go back until Monday. Maybe later.

It's supposed to snow for a long time. Her voice sounded different. Like she was nervous. And she was still clutching the phone in her hand. She went back into the kitchen without another word. And I looked at the fire. This isn't normal. Cassie speared a marshmallow with a skewer, but didn't lean toward the fire.

It's just a big storm. Everywhere at once? Cassie lost her father to cancer when we were younger. After that, she became different. She went to stay at a hospital for two weeks. I asked my mother what was wrong with her. She said Cassie was having a very hard time living her life without her dad

and she had gone to a hospital for sad people. She told me there were other kids there like her that she could talk to and play with. In a few short years, I learned what a psychiatric institution was. I deduced that was where Cassie had gone. A few months before the big snowstorm, Cassie had begun to see things. Or at least she pretended to see them. My brother said she just wanted attention.

My dad said she had been through a lot, and sometimes kids didn't know how to ask for help. So they made things up. He said she was just being fanciful. My mom added that she herself had an imaginary friend until she was nearly 13. There was nothing wrong with it, and she'd grow out of it. I told them the things Cassie saw weren't her friends. She claimed to see things following us home from school, shadowy figures in the mirror sometimes.

My parents told me again that Cassie had been through a lot, and I should be understanding. Corey took us to the lake the summer before the storm. We were splashing around while Corey lay in the sun on the beach. We had gone past the line of boys marking where we could swim, but we were the only ones there and Corey didn't care. In the middle of our swimming, Cassie screamed. She pointed to a thick, grimy pipe underwater and rushed to shore.

What is it? Get it! I looked all around and I could see nothing. She was already at the beach and I started to wait after her. Corey was standing at the water's edge, demanding that she tell him what was wrong and beckoning to me. Something swam by me on its back, but it was underwater. It had really long arms and white eyes. It looked right up at me.

My brother looked at the sky, gathering his patience. Cassie, there's nothing in the water, okay? She grabbed her towel and buried her face in it, breathing deeply. Corey patted her shoulder awkwardly. Let's go get some ice cream, huh? Yes! I ran onto the beach. Cassie picked her head up out of her towel and sniffled.

I folded my hands together and stood in the sand, dripping lake water. Do you want to get ice cream? I guess. I didn't see anything, Cassie. Maybe you saw gas from a boat or something? Sometimes it makes funny shapes on the water. We were outside the swimming area. My brother nodded, silently agreeing with me.

my theory. Come on, it's going to get dark soon anyway. Earlier that same winter, we were sledding in the woods. A couple of times I caught Cassie staring off into the trees. Her sled clutched in one hand. I knew the right thing to do would have been to ask her if she was okay. Instead, I told myself she was acting this way to fish for my attention. And for some reason, that bothered me. So I continued to have fun and pretended I didn't notice a thing out of the ordinary with her. My mom sees them too. She said it out of the blue while we were making our way back to my house. I wanted to roll my eyes, but I remembered what my parents said.

Be understanding. Be patient. How do you know? I can just tell. Back in the present, the power had gone out. It was about 10 o'clock at night. Dad ordered us to bed not long after that, and I heard him and mom talking in the kitchen as we tried to sleep. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but it sounded tense and worried.

I felt Cassie get out of bed in the middle of the night, but I was groggy, so I didn't know what she was doing. I heard the creaking sound of my dad walking by every now and then to put more wood on the fire. I woke up once to the sound of the wind howling. I shrank into a ball. I'd never heard it make a noise like that before. It was human-like and sad. Cassie was already awake when I woke up the next morning, and she already had a story.

The lights were on in Mr. Carrigan's house last night, right before the power went out. Mr. Carrigan lived in the house down the hill, behind mine. It was a massive house right on the lake. The garage had four doors. In the summer it always seemed like he was pulling a different expensive-looking car in and out of it. He only stayed there during the summer, and the rest of the year he lived in Florida. His wife had died last year.

She was nice. She'd let us use their beach access if we wanted to swim in the summer, and would make us lemonade and fruit popsicles. I rolled my eyes. He's gone for the winter. I saw him. No, you didn't. Maybe you were dreaming?

He was trying to get his door open, but it looked like he was having a hard time. Why would he be here in the middle of winter? In a storm. I don't know. Maybe we should go check it out. I got up and walked to my window, wondering if she could be right. Maybe Mr. Carrigan had to come up north for something? I looked out the window where I could see down the hill to his driveway. The snow was still coming down.

It wasn't as bad as the night before. It fell in quiet heaps now. Mr. Carrigan's driveway was empty and blanketed with undisturbed snow. But that didn't mean much. The falling snow would have covered up any footprints he'd made by now. His car isn't even there. Yeah, he was walking. From Florida.

We should go down there. Why? To go sledding. I didn't believe that she really wanted to go sledding. She wanted to investigate Mr. Carrigan's house. Without saying anything else, I walked into the hall. Mom was in the living room, sitting next to the fireplace with her cell phone to her ear. Dab is in the kitchen, making pancakes on a gas camping stove.

Dug this up in the garage. Lucky, eh? Pancakes, ladies? Have you heard from my mom? Yeah, she texted me this morning. She's fine, still at the hotel. Waiting for the plow trucks. They're spread pretty thin. We've got about five feet so far.

Can I call her? No, our phones are almost dead, sweetie. We're trying to figure out what's going on with the power company. He glanced at the living room, indicating that that was who my mom was on the phone with. Dad threw some butterscotch chips in with the pancakes and gave us a choice of maple syrup or caramel sauce. The smell finally seemed to attract my brother,

who stumbled into the kitchen with messy hair, wrapped tightly in his comforter. We chowed down until my mom came in. They have no idea. They told us to prepare to be without power for a few days. Oh, great. They said as soon as the roads are clear, we can drive to one of their offices, and they'll have backup generators.

But they have a limited number, blah, blah, blah. Well, I guess they'll probably be gone by the time they get to our road. We can always go buy one, I guess. Where? My mom set her phone down with a loud clack. Dad continued as if she hadn't raised her voice or slammed down her phone. They've got them at the hardware store Those will probably be gone too

Lisa, it'll be fine Is my mom gonna be okay? There was a visible crease in Cassie's brow now And she had stopped eating her pancakes Yes, sweetie, I'm sorry The hotel has their own backup power She'll be fine Yeah, and if the power doesn't come back on here

We can go stay at the hotel Everything will be fine Can we go sledding after breakfast? if Corey wants to go with you. And you have to help him shovel later. Corey answered with a displeased grunt, but kept eating his pancakes. I remembered then what Cassie had said about Mr. Carrigan. Dad, Mr. Carrigan is still in Florida, right?

Oh, yeah. We talked on the phone the other night, actually. He was on his way back up to see his kids. Doesn't he usually spend the whole winter there? My young brain somehow still clung to the hope that I was right and Cassie had. I had seen nothing. Well, it's his first winter without Jane, so I think it was a little difficult for him. I saw him last night. Oh, sweetie, I doubt that.

There's no way he would have kept driving in all this snow. He hates it. No, he's probably camped out in a hotel somewhere. I'll call and make sure he's all right as soon as the power is back, though. My mom rubbed her forehead. Corey, you're going to take the girl's sledding, yeah? Yeah, give me a sec. You'll have to go around the front.

The back door is snowed shut. Shovel off the porch while you're out there. I don't want it collapsing. The back porch was almost completely buried. The wind had blown into drift so high, they completely covered the first floor windows on one side of the house. Apparently, the news had been right. The sleds brought us from my back porch straight into Mr. Carrigan's driveway.

We made piles of snow for jumps, and our shrieks cut through the otherwise tranquil air. Soon our legs were sore from hiking back up the hill so many times, and we collapsed into the snow, chests heaving. I stared at our breath turning to clouds in the air for a moment. Do you want to go down to the lake? I looked back at our porch to yell to Corey, but he had gone inside. He'd only gotten half of the stairs done and hadn't even started on the porch.

Okay, but we're not allowed on the ice. She nodded and we jumped up running toward Mr. Carrigan's driveway. Cassie trudged by his house on the way to the lake. Apparently, she'd forgotten her visions from the night before. It was me who saw the keys in the door. I stopped and stared. I thought, maybe they were my dad's keys. Mr. Carrigan had given my dad a key in case he wanted him to check on something during the

winters. Cassie? I turned my head, but she had already disappeared down the time. trail to the lake. I walked up the porch steps. The keys weren't my dad's. There was a car key on there that didn't belong to him. I took them out of the door. Hello? I tried the knob, unlocked. I opened the door and poked my head inside. Mr. Carrigan? It's Sam from up the hill. Are you home? I have your keys. I didn't get an answer.

I went inside. Down the hall, I could see something sparkling on the kitchen floor. When I got closer, I could see it was small puddles of water, reflecting the light pouring in from the window. Melted snow. My heart jumped. Someone was here. How could he be here but not his car?

Did he have to walk from somewhere? Mr. Carrigan? I'm sorry for coming in. You left your keys in the door! I didn't get a response. I noticed there was a drawer open near the sink. It was filled with odds and ends, and there was a little flashlight inside. The streaks of water led to a door on the other side of the kitchen.

I'd been in here before, and I knew it led to the basement. He was down there. Maybe he couldn't hear me through the door. I'd just go and give him his keys. It was the right thing to do. I knocked on the basement door and said his name again, but was once more greeted with silence. I opened the door. It was so dark.

How could he be down there in the dark? I went through the other drawers and found fresh batteries with flashlight. I was nervous, but not enough to go back. I started, slowly, down the stairs. Maybe I was too young for all the little clues to skip. scare me. Maybe an older, smarter person would have realized that if he was here, alive, he would have answered me by now. When I got to the bottom of the steps, I didn't see anything. There were two kayaks leaning against the wall to my right. There was other lake equipment

scattered around, and there was a wood stove in the far corner. I noticed something inside the wood stove when I shined the light at it. It was pressed up against the open hat. It was pressed up against the open hatch, bulging out like a balloon that had been put inside and then inflated. It had the texture of a sweater. I inched closer until I was in front of the stove. Cassie and the lake had left my mind completely by then. I pressed my hand against the sweater-like thing pushing out of the door and recoiled just as quickly. Something soft and fleshy was beneath it.

and the realization that it could only be one thing didn't take long to hit me. Are you okay? Hello? You have to get out of there! I poked my head around the side of the furnace. Like a lot of those old wood stoves, it had another smaller hatch on the side. Without thinking, I grabbed the handle and twisted it. The door popped open, and behind it, Mr. Carrigan's wife.

eyed-eyed face. I don't remember darting out of the house. The next memory I have is of standing on Mr. Carrigan's porch, screaming Cassie's name with cold tears on my face. I remember Corey, stumbling down the snowy hill, nearly tripping over himself, demanding that I tell him what was wrong. What? Why? I ran toward the lake, following Cassie's still-fresh footprints.

Sam, Samantha, you tell me. what's going on right now. In any other situation, it would have been funny how much he sounded like Dad in that moment. I barreled through the snow, unfazed toward the lake.

Get Mom and Dad. Go get Mom and Dad! Corey ran after me, ignoring my demands. He yelled something. I don't remember what it was. I don't remember much except stopping at the edge of the lake

where Cassie's footprints abruptly ended. I looked up. up. It seemed the logical thing to do at the time. It was just open air around me. No trees or anything for her to climb. Cassie! Cassie's mother disappeared too. She wasn't among the hotel guests who checked out when the snow was cleared, and she never came home. It wasn't long before they found them both. They searched the basement of the hotel, where there was an old, unused, fireplace. Their bodies were stuffed inside the chimney like Mr. Carrigans had been,

wrapped tightly around each other in an impossible space. They wouldn't have even looked in the chimney, but they weren't the only bodies found like that. Over a dozen people were found crammed inside furnaces, fireplaces, stoves. The coroner said the same thing for each one of them. They had all frozen to death. Even the people found in houses or buildings with working heat at the time of their death, they had all died from exposure to extreme cold. A hundred miles away, a plow truck struck something concealed by heaps of snow. It was a buried car.

When the police ran the plates, they found out it belonged to Doug Kerrigan, whose body I'd found in the furnace. Although my parents tried to shelter me from it. They got sad or frustrated when I asked questions. I asked them how Cassie could have gotten to the hotel. They said she ran across the lake. I told them there were no footprints. My dad said the wind blew the snow over them.

It hadn't been windy. Years later, when I was home from college, I shared a glass of wine with my mother. Things were light and fun until she was about three glasses in. They were all sad. She stared at her glass. What? The people they found.

The way they found them in the furnaces. Mom, why are you talking about this? Cassie's father died. Doug's wife died. They found Judy Smith, you know, and her son died the year before. I stared. silence. She finally looked up from her glass, and I stared into her eyes, still completely at a loss for words. She opened her mouth and inhaled. I think something came for them. As our service

concludes, we send you away with our blessings. If you would like to find out how you can hear the full-length versions of our audio program, please visit the no sleepbodcast.com to learn about our season past program. Over 60 hours of content for only 1999. On behalf of everyone at the No Sleep Podcast, we thank you for listening. Join us again next week in our sleepless Sanctuary. This audio production is copyright 2018-2020 by Creative Reason Media, Inc. All blessed 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.