The NoSleep Podcast - S19 Ep5: NoSleep Podcast S19E05

Episode Date: March 5, 2023

It’s Episode 05 of Season 19. We ponder weak and weary with tales about sinister stalking.“Come to Mama” written by Hyten Davidson (Story starts around 00:04:30)TRIGGER WARNING!Produced by: Phil MichalskiCast: Beanie Boehly – Kristen DiMercurio, Virginia Boehly – Erin Lillis, John Georges – Elie Hirschman, The Caller – Atticus Jackson, Jess – Katabelle Ansari, Evelyn – Jessica McEvoy, Brandon – Dan Zappulla, Man #1 – Matthew Bradford, Man #2 – Jeff Clement, Police Officer – Peter Lewis, Newswoman – Linsay Rousseau, Recording #1 – Mike DelGaudio, Recording #2 – Sarah Ruth Thomas, Recording #3 – Jesse Cornett“Stay Sweet Forever” written by John Beardify (Story starts around 00:25:00)TRIGGER WARNING!Produced by: Jeff ClementCast: Michelle – Mary Murphy, Rhett Tillman – Jesse Cornett“Till Death Do Us Part” written by Paul Kordich (Story starts around 00:42:30)Produced by: Phil MichalskiCast: Narrator – Dan Zappulla, Mark – Graham Rowat, Kelly – Nichole Goodnight, Stranger – Mike DelGaudio, Linda – Wafiyyah White“You’ve Got Mail” written by Florence Wetzel (Story starts around 01:02:35)TRIGGER WARNING!Produced by: Phil MichalskiCast: Maria Carlsson – Tanja Milojevic, Pale Man – Jeff Clement, Receptionist – Linsay Rousseau, Tall Man – Peter Lewis“A Greasy Spoon” written by E.B. Davis (Story starts around 01:23:40)Produced by: Phil MichalskiCast: Narrator – Reagen Tacker, Old Man – David Cummings“Honk Honk” written by Steven Wait (Story starts around 01:30:45)Produced by: Jesse CornettCast: Matt – Atticus Jackson, Sally – Sarah Ruth Thomas, TV Reporter – Matthew BradfordThis episode is sponsored by:Green Chef - Green Chef makes eating well easy with plans to fit every lifestyle. Whether youíre Keto, Paleo, Vegan, Vegetarian, Gluten-Free, or just looking to eat more balanced meals, Green Chef offers a range of recipes to suit your preferences. Go to greenchef.com/nosleep60 and use code nosleep60 to get 60% off plus free shipping!ShipStation - ShipStation makes it super easy to manage and ship all your online orders faster, cheaper and more efficiently. Keep growing your business all year long with ShipStation. Use promo code NOSLEEP today at shipstation.com to sign up for your FREE 60-day trial.Click here to learn more about The NoSleep Podcast teamClick here to learn more about Edgar Allan Poe from author Rene RehnClick here to learn more about Hyten DavidsonClick here to learn more about John BeardifyClick here to learn more about Florence WetzelExecutive Producer & Host: David CummingsMusical score composed by: Brandon Boone“Honk Honk” illustration courtesy of Hasani WalkerAudio program ©2023 – 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. The works of Edgar Allan Poe reside in the public domain. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The No Sleep Podcast is right behind you and ready to bring the horror. We're talking stalking this time, so we're always close by. Very close by. But the best thing to have close by, especially when you're hungry, is good food that's quick and easy to prep. Like the kind you get from Green Chef, the number one meal kit for eating well. Green Chef is part of the Hello Fresh family,

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And now I hear the secrets that you keep when you're stalking with no sleep. In the dark shadows of the Rue Morg to the rhythm of the stolen telltale heart as the black cat swings upon the pendulum and the cask offers its sherry deep and dry. As you knock at our chamber door, we open and usher you in. Our sleepless tales for you in store, and the terror shall be lifted for the no-sleep. Welcome to the No Sleep podcast. I'm your host, David Cummings.

What would horror be without tales of strangers, people or entities, who stalk their victims, drawing ever closer, ever more dangerous, with behaviors most disturbing? It's a premise which can be all too real to the audience, no matter how fantastical the tale. Consider our friend, Edgar Allan Poe. In 1840, he published a short story titled The Man of the Crowd. Not so much a horror story it tells of a man who decides to follow a story. elderly and feeble man throughout London, all the while fascinated by how the man seems to accomplish nothing except for being always drawn to be amongst the crowds, thus never alone.

The story is introduced with an epigraph from the French philosopher Jean Brouillier, which translates to, this great misfortune of not being able to be alone. Well, in this episode, we feature tales where people would be all too happy to be left alone. It's a much better alternative than having to contend with others who simply must be near them no matter what. As such, we're happy or with us, friends. Let's experience this together. And now, our tales come to you upon a midnight dreary. Best not to ponder them while weak and weary.

In our first tale, we meet a woman trying to be a good daughter to her mother, a mother who, by the way, is in prison. And in this tale, shared with us by author, Heighton Davidson, things only get worse when she starts receiving strange phone calls from a mysterious man. Performing this tale are Kristen D. Maccurio, Aaron Lillis, Ellie Hirschman, Atticus Jackson, Catabelle Ansari, Jessica McAvoy, Dan Zepula,

Matthew Bradford, Jeff Clement, Peter Lewis, Lindsay Rousseau, Mike Delgadoo, Sarah Thomas, and Jesse Cornett. So if you find yourself exhausted and under threat, don't forget this sage advice. Just come to Mama. A prepaid call from Correctional Facility. To accept charges, press 1. To reject press...

Hey. Hello. You there? Hello? Mom, I'm getting charged 21 cents a minute for you. to prank call me? Really? Boo! How did you see that going in your head?

Who else would be calling me from Deacon Hill Women's Correctional Facility? Shoot. I forgot they do that voice message thing. You're no fun. I just worked a 14-hour shift. I'm about to pass out. They work you too hard. You work you too hard, Beanie Baby? I'm well aware. Now was your day? Same as ever. My back is all screwed up. No, I swear, I slipped a disc out in the yard about a month ago, and they won't do shit about it.

Do those stretches. I sent you a whole book on yoga. Yeah, yeah. Has that one guy, that one guard, been leaving you alone? What's his face? I don't know his name beyond boss man, but he's sniffing all over me. Give me looks I don't particularly care for. Did I tell you he has an eye patch from Iraq? Isn't that like something that would prohibit you from being able to be a prison guard?

That's what I said. How you know, you're not going to get jumped from the side? Or, God forbid, what if he has to use that goddamn gun he throws around on his hip all day? I'm just supposed to trust he'll be a real sharpshooter with half vision? I swear if this place is coming to kill me. All right, don't be like that. Well, it's true. All the other ladies here are in denial about it.

I'm the only one that sees things for how exactly they are. Glad to hear it. Oh, I can just feel the sympathy oozing from the phone. Mom, I'm exhausted. I've got no fight left in me. Can you call me back tomorrow night instead? Please. Oh, sure, thanks, sweets.

Thanks for all 63 cents of your time. Honeyboo, please, make sure to lock up before you go to bed, okay? You got that security camera to do Hickey up and running? Yes, Mom. All righty. I'll call tomorrow. Talk to you then. Bye-bye.

Hello? Really? What, did you and Leslie have too much Pruno, and she lent you some contraband burner? her phone. Well, whatever. It's nice not having to pay to listen to you whine about your back. All right, I legitimately can't tell if you're trying to prank me again or if you have to keep quiet because you could get caught. Okay, I get it. If you can only listen, listen, because I know we can't talk about it when we're being recorded, but I've been wanting to tell you for a while.

I just wanted you to know, if it wasn't obvious already, but just to actually say it out loud to you, I understand why you did what you did. And I stand behind you for that, and I just really, really respect you for it. You did what you had to do. I'll always defend that. Sometimes there's even like a weird sense of pride, so, yeah, I don't want you to get in trouble, but like, Feel free to call on this number whenever. It's nice to get a word in every once in a while. Love you, Mom.

Baby, another beaming Coke over here. I got you. Hey, Beanie. I know this sounds weird, but there's a guy at Table 14 who's asking for you. Huh? Just give me one sec, Jess. Brandon, the Margarita machine's stuck. Sorry, what?

There's a guy. At Table 14, he specifically asked to be served by you. Who is he? I don't know. Table 14, I can't really see, but I'm pretty sure I don't recognize that guy, and I'm stuck behind the bar anyway. I told him that he insisted that I get you. He's clearly watching, so I thought I'd pretend to ask and then tell him it's me or nothing. Beanie, phone.

Brandon, the margarita thing. Thanks, Jess. Give me a sign if he starts being weird. Hello? Hi, I'm sorry. Say that again. I can barely hear you. I was your mom's lawyer in the preliminary trial. I know it's been...

Oh, yes, sorry. I do remember. Hi. Um, is everything okay? Oh, it's good. I'm sorry to call at work, but it says the cell phone number I had on file has been disconnected. Oh, yeah, I had to ditch that a while ago. Someone leaked my number online and I was getting death threats, so I just wasn't...

It just wasn't worth it. How did you... Understandable. I actually remembered you used to work at Choppies, and at first I thought there's no chance he still works there after all these years, but you do. Anyway, do you have a second to talk? Yeah, sure. Great, great. I know we threw around the idea of submitting an appeal a few years ago and it never went anywhere, but a woman with a similar case, a few counties over, just won her appeal for a retrial,

and it ended up walking free, Virginia Bowley case. So I wanted to ask, do you think your mom's got one last fight in her? Oh, wow, yeah. She's definitely got plenty of fight, but that's a lot to think about. I guess I'd just be wary of getting her hopes up, you know? I completely understand. Frankly, though, I wouldn't call if I thought this wasn't a case I couldn't win. Uh, it was a case I couldn't, I mean, I can win. I appreciate that. And, um, sorry, my brain is so frazzled.

Um, if we did sign on again, the rate would be the same as last time? My hourly has increased slightly, as is common, but what price wouldn't a daughter pay to get her mother back? Uh, yeah, for sure. Sure, for sure. Let me just call you back. I'll talk to my mom and then get back to you. Is that okay? Absolutely, absolutely. Take your time. Okay, thanks. Good to talk to you. At my work. I'll get back to you. Hey, still waiting over here. Coming!

Managed to get the table 14 guy's drink order. He wants a frozen margarita. Perfect. And he seriously won't stop staring at you. Call will be recorded and monitored. This is a pre-pitched. made call from Eakin Hill Women's Correctional Facility. To accept charges, press 1. To reject... Hiya, Mama.

Hiya, my prize, Beanie Baby. I wouldn't sell you on eBay, even for a million dollars. I hate to break it to you, but in this brave new world, Beanie babies have like zero value. How's the back? Oh, crippling. I think I'm about two inches shorter than I used to be. But at least I don't have to duck to get through the cell door anymore.

Okay, so you're clearly not doing those stretches. Wait, hold on, there's someone at the door. Who is it? Uh, no one, I guess. Did you hear something? I thought I heard a knock. But not anyway. You keep any weapons in the house?

What? God, no. What do you have that's sharp? Geez, I don't know. The ballerina in the music box you gave me is pretty pointy. You don't have a kitchen knife? Mom, I seriously don't think this is a good topic of... What about your old softball bat? Sure, yes, whatever.

I think it's in the closet. Can you stop now? Well, bring it out and keep it by the door. You never know when you're going to need to defend yourself. Got it. Don't need to talk about it anymore. Everything's fine. Oh, would you relax about the recorded call thing?

What? Is it illegal now for a... mother to teach their daughter how to defend herself. I'm just supposed to say, oh, relax, Beanie, leave your door wide open, let anybody come in and attack you. I don't care if anyone is listening. You know what, you all can truly kiss my grass.

Hey, remember when you called yesterday? I really liked that call. So maybe you should call again tonight, like how you called me yesterday. Huh? I'm just saying yesterday's call the way you called, that was good. Oh, you mean when I hilariously pranked to you and you fussed at me for it?

Yeah, the part where you weren't talking and could only listen, try to call back like that later, okay? Bainey, is there someone in the room with you? Do you need me to alert someone? No, no, no, no, no one's here. You're not listening. God, you always jump immediately to the most paranoid scenario. Hey, hey, relax, all right?

You're the one being a wacko. Just call later. Okay, fine. It's your money. I'll call you back later then. Okay, thanks. Talk to you later. Wait, wait, wait.

Being serious now. Will you put some more money in my account for commissary? They have some canned fruit I'm hankering for. Yeah, sure, whatever you want. Lovely. If she walks in the retrial. Frankly, I think it's an investment you can't afford not to take. And look, they don't call me the bulldog for nothing.

I'm hungry to win this one. Just let me off the leash. Yes, Evelyn, I know you. I see you literally every day. You're trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty. Hello? Whoever's doing that? I have a knife and a softball bat.

Hello? What do you want? What the hell do you want from me? You want to mess with me? Huh? You don't want to mess with me, buddy. I come from bad blood, okay? If you come near me or my house or call this number again,

and I will knife you, okay? Oh my God. I already called the police. This call will be recorded and monitored. This is a prepaid call from... It's me, America's sweetheart, Julia Roberts. An inmate at Beacon Hill Women's Correctional Facility. To accept charges, press one.

Mom! What? What? Something's happened. Someone was just knocking on my door again, but no one was there, and then literally, right after a guy called and said this vague,

threat and I think he's been following me for a few days because Jess at work said someone wanted me and my crazy old neighbor said there was a car outside my house and I'm freaking out and I want to be left alone and get out of here but I'm freaking out. All right, all right. Hey, hey, you're okay. Can't you review those fancy security cameras? No, I can't. Did they all break already? I never got security cameras because I never got any bonus mom. They generally don't give bartenders quarterly bonuses. I just said that to stop you from worrying because you honestly get crazy when you worry. I'm dead broke because I'm maxed on the hours I can do at work, and I'm a shit daughter because that crap lawyer keeps calling and saying that he can get you off,

but he wants to charge 28 an hour, and I just physically don't have anywhere near that for one hour's work, so I didn't say anything to you, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just, I get so paralyzed. I'm sorry. Okay, listen up. Here's what you're going to do. Are you with me? Yes. You're going to take your softball bat. You're going to take out your biggest. kitchen knife and hide it in the side table drawer by the couch, okay? You're going to then exit out the small bedroom window, the little one that faces south

to the opposite side of the front door. Go undetected. Run into the woods, then peel around the park back to Evelyn's house. She'll let you in and keep you safe. Now watch through the window to see if the man returns to your front door if you see anything strange, anything at all. Have Evelyn take you somewhere safe, okay? Uh, okay.

Don't forget each step I said. Understand? Go now, and we'll reconnect later. Okay. Oh, and when you get to Evelyn's, call the prison and put some more money in my commissary account. I need new socks. Okay, sure. Do it. Go now.

Beanie, is that you? This is Evelyn. So, you're just, like, sleeping on this old lady's couch, or... Yeah. Until how long? No idea, until it feels safe to go back, whatever that means. Hey, can you tell Brandon the IPA just kicked? Damn, I can't even feel safe in our own homes anymore.

Whoa, hey, why'd you change the channel? Shut up, look, it's serious. This is an emergency news report from News Team 7. Oh, shoot. The game stopped. Beacon Hill Correctional Facility in Montrose County is under lockdown after an inmate reportedly escaped the prison late this morning. Virginia Bowley, age 68, is suspected of coercing correctional guard Gus Corby. Turn it up.

After escaping, she then used a can of peaches wrapped in a sock to knock the guard unconscious in the woods nearby. Police are warning locals that Bowley is considered dangerous. She was convicted in the stabbing death of her boyfriend, Tom Michael. Oh my God. My God, wait, Beanie. Hey, that's not your mom, right? I need to make a call. Can you make sure no one goes to the storage closet?

Hello? Mom! Are you in my house? Why? What the... What the hell are you doing? You know you're on the news right now? You have to turn yourself in, or else you'll never get out of there.

There's a man in your house. Oh, my God. Oh, Jesus Christ. Mom, get out now. It's okay. He's dead. Oh. Mom. No, no, no, no, no, no, please. Just, just, just. Oh, my God.

You were right, Beanie. Someone was harassing you, stalking you. In the trunk of his car, there was rope, duct tape. I was waiting for him when he broke in. So I did to him what he was going to do to you. I will always protect you. Beanie, are you in there? Beanie! Are you okay? There's like some cops out here that want to talk to you. Don't worry, Beanie, baby.

You won't have to stress about me, or this man, or attorney fees, or anything like that ever again. Mom, I... Why? Why? Go now. It's going to be okay. Are you kidding me? Mom, why?

Miss Bowley? Means Bolly unlock the closet door now. Beanie, please, come out, okay? Was it self-defense? As a young child, losing a sibling can be traumatic, to say the least. It can be even worse when the loss is in the form of the child going missing. And as we learn in this tale, shared with us by author John Beardify, a woman recalls what happened to her on a school field trip as she pondered the question,

Would anyone notice if I went missing too? Performing this tale are Mary Murphy and Jesse Cornett. So don't let childhood trauma steal your spirit, your essence. Do what you can to stay sweet forever. My older sister Hannah had been missing for over a year by the day of the field trip. I was 10 that year, and I was about as irritated by our class field trip to Tillman Farm as I was by everything else. I was irritated by the people who'd forgotten my sister,

and just as irritated by the people who forced me to remember. I was irritated by how my parents had changed, by how my friends now treated me like our family tragedy was a black cloud hanging over my head that threatened to rain bad luck on them if they got too close. I wasn't Michelle Hartford anymore. I was just the girl whose sister disappeared. The yellow school buses rumbled beside the old house

that served as a welcome center in store. Two by two, following the buddy system, my classmates marched off to pet lambs to learn about compost and chickens and honeybees. Abby Lewis was assigned to be my buddy for the field trip to Tillman Farm, but as soon as you, the teacher wasn't looking, she gave me a smirk and ran off with her friends Maria and Delexis.

Would anyone notice? I wondered. If I went missing, too, would anyone care? With a last backwards look at our teacher, poor, distracted Miss Poole, I slipped behind a rickety shack, sat down on a handmade bench, and started to cry. Something rattled inside the shack, a hollow, metallic sound. I stopped my tears, a trick I'd been practicing a lot since Hannah disappeared and stared at the dirt like it was the most fascinating thing I'd ever seen. Well, hell, oh, little missus. A bushy, bearded old man in a straw hat and overalls stood before me.

Before Hannah disappeared, I trusted adults. I didn't know. Now I assumed they were all reporters, psychiatrists, or worse. How are you like in the farm? He sat down beside me on the bench. He was so heavy it sadged. Fine, I guess. The man smelled like hay and stale sweat.

I wished he'd leave me alone. But he just sat there, stroking his beard. Looking me over. You know, I'd swear there was another girl just like you on a tour some years back. Same frizzy red hair and cute button nose. Even had glasses like yours. But I reckon she'd be, gosh, 18 by now? No, she wouldn't.

I shot back. And she won't ever be, neither. You're thinking of my sister and she's dead. That word dead, coming from a kid's mouth, had power over adults, I'd learned. I hoped it would make this hayseed farmer finally go away. But he just hitched up his overalls and leaned back. Oh, sister was such a sweet girl. You should have seen the way she picked burrs out of the sheep's wool,

without even being asked to. And like she just wanted old Daisy to be comfortable. A lot of kids come through here, Missy. And you don't see one that sweet every decade. She was as gentle as a flower. Well, if Hannah's a flower, I guess I'm a weed. Nobody ever calls me sweet or gentle. Weeds have their purpose, too.

The old man stood up. You don't like them other kids too much, do you? I shook my head. Well, I'm Red Tillman. This farm's been in my family for five generations. How about I give you a little tour, Shelley? Anything was better than just sitting behind the rusty shack, talking about my sister. But how did this old farmer?

know my nickname. Before we headed out, Rhett stopped by the Farms Cafe gift shop and picked up two honey scones and two cardboard cups of steaming hot tea, with honey, of course. It was a cool overcast day, and the warm drink did wonders for my sniffles and my mood. Our path was a truck-wide strip of grass through a swaying field of purple lavender. And as we walked, I found myself feeling better. Do you like the tea? It's delicious. I nodded approvingly.

I'd never tasted anything like it. You know, a lot of people would call the plants to go into that tea, weeds, nettles, dandelions. We strolled along a stone fence, and Red explained how each field of flowers was set up. He pointed to the beehives. They reminded me of weird white-painted closets. You've got to be careful where the bees get their nectar. If they gather from the wrong flowers, it spoils the flavor. We were past the well-manicured fields, the vegetable patches, and animal paddocks.

Our path became a strip of dirt through the pine trees, a rocky creek. roaring alongside. I wasn't sure we were even on the farm anymore, but I didn't want to interrupt Rhett Tillman. I was enjoying our walk more than I would have admitted to anyone, even to myself. The cool shade of the trees, the smell of pine and damp earth, the rocky path. I could pretend I was a normal girl strolling through the woods with a kindly old man. And when I was a normal girl strolling through the woods, with a kindly old man. And when I got home, my normal family would be happy and whole.

Daydreams. We'd cross the creek twice, I think, when I realized I no longer knew my own way back. A stranger taking a little kid this far from other people isn't normal, I realized, and the thought made me go pale. It froze me in my tracks like a deer in headlights. Um, Mr. Tillman, don't you think we should go back?

We'd arrived at yet another rickety shack. This time in the middle of a sea of rocks. Bees buzzed around a hive structure that seemed almost like a closet. But there wasn't a flower in sight. Rhett, of course, was still talking about bees. Now, of course, not all bees need flowers. Vulture bees have their own way of making honey. They can scratch out and live in almost any place,

but they barely make enough honey for themselves. Harvesting it kills the hive. Imagine that. Whistling to himself, red lit a fire in a small device, a smoker. I coughed, but the fumes opened the way to the hive. Well, come on then, Shelly.

There was that name again. Shelley. That's why I only make Vulture Bee Honey on special occasions. Most folks don't like the flavor, but then I only make it for myself and my very special guests. It's sticky and hard to digest, but it's got a subtle tea all its own. You seem to like it quite a bit, too, Mrs. Rhett chuckled as he smoked out the bees. My stomach rumbled.

What was in that tea? Finished. Red opened the hive doors. Just as I'd suspected, this hive wasn't like the others. It was basically a modified closet. And inside, I never thought I'd see my sister again, especially not like this. I pressed a hand to my mouth to hold in the vomit. Ah, Hannah was sweet all right.

She was growing up too fast, though. Sweetness like hers had to be preserved. Did you know that honey never goes bad? Archaeologists could eat the honey found in Pharaoh's tombs if they wanted. Although the pharaoh has never had anything as sweet as your sister. I couldn't fully process what I was seeing inside the closet hive. Only flashes. wilted red hair hanging from a honeycomb.

Sticky maroon flesh stuck to the bone in a way that made me think of all things, of barbecue wings. The whole horrible structure, half hive, half corpse, dripping with something sticky and viscous. Honey. But don't you see? It's better this way. I've been keeping an eye on Hannah ever since that first day she came out to the farm. She stayed innocent for a long time, long time. But eventually, she started to turn.

They all do. Started talking back to her mother, getting interested in boys. I had to act fast. Rhett ambled back into the rickety shack and returned with a small dusty jar. But don't you see? This way, she'll stay sweet forever. He pressed all that was left of my sister into my reluctant hands. I realized that Rhett was carrying something else, too.

A gas can. He slashed its contents around the closet hive and struck a match, turning my sister's final resting place into a pillar of flame. A small whimper escaped my lips when he grabbed my hand. You're all right, little missus. His eyes crinkled up into that friendly old man's smile once again. We best be heading back. Of course, it goes without sense.

saying you shouldn't tell anyone about this. Nobody believe you anyhow, but just so you know, I'd have Hannah's long gone by the time anybody came here to investigate. And I know you betrayed my trust. I wouldn't like that, Shelley. Not one little bit. His grip on my hand tightened.

His voice suddenly as jagged and menacing as the shadows of the pine trees. It passed like a cloud before the sun, and suddenly Rhett Tillman was cheerful again. When we got back to the parked yellow buses, to my honey hyper-shrieking classmates and exhausted long-suffering teacher, Rhett patted the small jar of honey in my hand. I'd like you to keep that little missus. Just a little reminder that

life's not all about being sweet. Maybe. Rhett stroked his beard thoughtfully. Maybe sometimes. It's better to be a weed, don't you think? I saw Rhett Tillman's obituary. in the news this morning. 17 years later,

I finally feel free to share my story. To be honest, I'm not entirely convinced that I didn't imagine the whole thing, but I still keep Hannah's honey on a shelf by my bedside. I haven't opened it yet, but that's fine.

I know it will stay sweet forever. I knew honey was sweet. I just didn't know it could be so bitter sweet. Let's take a quick break to find out the much more positive ways we can get people to stick with us no matter what. Like if you run your own e-commerce business, you don't want people to abandon you, you want them to stick with you and come back time and time again. You know, the good kind of stalking. If there's one thing that can drive away customers and have them abandon their shopping carts, it's high shipping costs. Let's face it, free and fast shipping is

the norm, and it can be hard for smaller e-commerce businesses. to compete. Keep yourself competitive with Ship Station. When you use Ship Station, you can lower shipping costs, make returns easy, and keep your customers happy. And with all the time you save from automating your shipping tasks, you can keep your business growing all year long. ShipStation works with all your favorite places to sell online, including Amazon, Etsy, eBay, Shopify, and more. Manage every order from one simple dashboard. Automate routine shipping tasks, print shipping labels, and easily compare rates and delivery times to optimize every shipment. With the best discounts in the industry, you'll never wonder if you're getting the best rates.

And get this, you can get up to 86% off USPS and UPS rates. So keep growing your business all year long with ShipStation. Use promo code no sleep today at shipstation.com to sign up for your free 60-day trial. That's shipstation.com promo code no-sleep. sleep. Now, let's get back to the horror. This next one's a beauty. Have you ever heard of the expression, she's out of your league? I seem to hear it a lot for some reason. Usually, it applies to men who find themselves in a relationship with a woman whose beauty or status seems to be far greater than the man's. And in this tale, shared with us by author Paul Kortick, we meet Mark,

a man who has always wondered why his beautiful wife chose him of all people. Performing this tale are Dan Zapula, Graham Rowett, Nicole Goodnight, Mike Delgado, and Wafia White. So try not to be insecure. Love is blind, as they say, and you should always remember, marriage means till death do us part. Mark Grayson was an average man. He lived in an average house, which he paid for with his average job, and even socialized from time to time with his very average. average friends. The one thing in Mark's life that was not average, however, his wife, Kelly.

He had met Kelly, junior year of college, and after two years and four semesters of dating, had decided to get married. Every party they went to, every fundraiser they attended, people stopped and marveled at her beauty. Mark had often wondered over the years how such a striking woman would find him the least bit attractive. The longer he dwelt on the topic, the more time Mark found himself depressed. So he usually decided to just count his blessings. Kelly seductively sipped her coffee as her legs dangled over the side of the bed. Her eyes fixated on her slumbering husband.

She playfully nudged Mark's leg with her knee to wake him. Morning, Hanson. Mark slowly opens his eyes. ultimately fixating on an alarm clock on the nightstand. Morning, you let me sleep so late. Judging by how long you were at the office, I thought you might enjoy the extra rest. You would be correct.

Thank you. I don't even remember you coming to bed. That's because when I got home, you were passed out with a glass of pino balancing on your chest. I couldn't sleep, and it beats warm milk. Anyway, I was up half the night finishing the Hansen file for Dan. I kept texting me every ten minutes for an update. Well, Dan can suck a dick.

Dear Lord, did you kiss your mother with that mouth? I'll kiss you with this mouth. Kelly leans over and kisses Mark on the lips. Babe, you're way too good for those people. I think you should walk in there Monday and tell them to all go fuck off. Well, how's people pay our mortgage? So I'm not sure if verbally assaulting them makes me more valuable to the company. You never know.

Maybe they'd respect you more. So, you got any big plans today? You're looking at them. How about you? I was thinking about getting lunch with Linda around noon, and then heading to the grocery store for some odds and ends. Mark coughs violently and reaches for his temples. He winces in pain.

Oh, no, the headaches again? Yeah, don't worry. It'll pass in a couple of seconds. No, let me get your pills. Really, it's fine. Kelly rises up from the bed and walks. into the bathroom. Babe, half your day is spent staring at a computer screen and the other half you're glued in that

chair. It's no wonder you feel like crap all the time. Ted said that eventually the pills will clear everything up. Well, if Ted said it. Kelly pokes her head out from behind the bathroom wall. What is that supposed to mean? What? Nothing.

Listen, nobody told you to make my ex-boyfriend your primary care physician. Plus, it was like only two dates. Well, I was not aware of that little nugget of information when I initially went to go see him. So, go to another doctor if it bothers you so much. And lose the ability to keep tabs on Dr. Sixpack? Very clever, Kel. Very clever. God, you're an idiot. Kelly pulls her head back into the bathroom.

Anyway, I barely work. They're killing our sex life. Kelly walks back into the bedroom and sits down on the bed next to Mark. She hands him a glass of water and two of his pills. Sweetie, you were killing our sex life just fine way before you started taking those pills. Now take them. Mark sits up in bed and presses his back up against the headboard. He pops the pills into his mouth and takes a sip from his glass.

Did you swallow? Of course I did. What do you think I am, a child? No comment. Kelly stands up and heads towards the bedroom door. She stops and turns to face her husband. Now get your ass out of bed, but I want to catch you sleeping when I get back.

I got a big surprise for you today. What is it? You are familiar with how a surprise works. All right. I'm intrigued. I eagerly await your return. I made a fresh pot of coffee downstairs. If it tastes a little funny, it's because I switched us to decaf.

I thought the caffeine might be affecting your headaches. But I don't drink coffee for the taste. I drink it to poop and funky. And I have no doubt you'll successfully continue both just fine with the decaf. Love you. Kelly exits the room, not leaving a chance for Mark to engineer a smart-ass response. Love you too. Mark pulls the covers up over his shoulders and falls back asleep.

He wakes up a few hours later and is disturbed when his alarm clock tells him exactly how long he's been out. Fuck my life. Mark kicks the covers off of his body and sits up on the side of the bed. He cradles his head in his hands, contemplating if he can get away with staying in bed all day. Realizing that he needs to be somewhat productive, he stands up and begins his day. Mark walks down the stairs and into the kitchen. He makes his way over to the coffee maker, grabs a mug from the cupboard, and pours himself a generous portion of caffeine. He takes a swig from his mug before wincing and disgust.

Why decaf? Why? He grabs his laptop from the counter and sits down at the kitchen table. He flips open the screen and begins his customary habit of perusing through his emails. A FaceTime call from an unfamiliar number pops up in the bottom right portion of his computer screen. What? Mark reaches for the mouse and clicks on the button to accept. the call. A stranger on the other end pops up on his screen. Mark does a double take, trying to

wrap his head around what exactly he's witnessing. This unknown man looks identical to Mark. Hello? I'm having a little trouble seeing you. All I'm getting is me on my screen. You're still not coming through all the way. Hold on. Is Kelly in the fucking house? We don't have time for this again. I'm not sure how you know my wife, but I'm going to hang up now. What did you say? Is Kelly in the house? No, she isn't back home yet. How did you know my wife was gone?

Need you to get out of the house now. Are you crazy? I'm not leaving my home. Mark, I'm you in the not too distant future. Right now, I need you to get out of the house. How is that even possible? It'll take too long to explain. and we don't have that kind of time.

She went to the grocery store, right? Uh, yeah. Good. We got at least 15 minutes if everything goes like it did last time. Last time? I don't understand. Mark stands up and walks over to the other side of the room. Get yourself to a safe location.

What do you mean? A safe location? Are you saying my home isn't safe? That's where she does it. In the kitchen. Does what? Your wife is going to move. Unless that is, you're not there. No, no, that's insane.

Kelly would never hurt me. Damn it, Mark. This is both of our lives you're putting in danger. That's not Kelly. Get out of the house. A door slams in the stranger's room. He is rattled by the noise. Someone off camera can be heard breathing heavily.

The stranger's screen begins to glitch before ultimately turning completely black. Hello? The call disconnect. Mark stares silently at the laptop's blank display. The phone on the counter rings, and Mark recoils in fright. His nerves still heightened. He walks over to the phone and sees Kelly's caller ID flashing across the screen. Mark picks up the phone and cautiously presses the accept button before raising the phone to his ear.

After a sizable pause, Mark finally answers. Yeah, I'm here. So I'm going to make another food run when you're at work tomorrow. Are you cool with pizza tonight? Still wrapped up in the series of events that had just transpired. Mark forgets to answer. Mark? Yeah, honey.

Pizza sounds great. When are you going to be back? I put the order in while I was checking out. Shouldn't it be more than 15 minutes? Right. Fifteen minutes. You okay, sweetie? You sound a little strange.

Yeah, just a lot on my mind, I guess. Well, I left your pills on the bathroom sink if you need them. Remember, you still have my surprise to look forward to when I get home. Mark winces. Still no hints? Let's just say you'll never see it coming. All right, I have to hang up now. Some old lady is about to back her car up into me.

Mark lowers the phone from his ear and stares back at his laptop. He contemplates his next course of action. She wouldn't kill me? Why would she kill me? Mark smiles at the absurdity of the absurdity of her. of the situation and makes his way to the upstairs bathroom. Mark leans over the sink and turns on the water. He cups his hands, filling them with cold water.

He splashes his face twice before completely turning off the faucet. He looks into the mirror, studying his reflection for a moment. He reaches for the pill bottle next to his toothbrush and twists off the childproof cap on top. He shakes out two pills from the canister and raises them to his mouth. Before ingesting, he studies the orange container. Dr. Ted Naismith is scribbled across the label. Dr. Teddy, would you have anything to do with this by chance? How long have you been feeling like shit, Mark?

Well, that's a good question. I don't know. Yes, you do, Mark. Really think. I guess it's been about a week? You guess? This isn't a fucking episode of Jeopardy. We're dealing with real consequences here.

Think harder. Two weeks? Definitely two weeks because I had to miss work last Friday because of the headaches. Good. We're making progress. And how long are we been taking the pills? The same pills that Dr. Teddy prescribed for us. About two weeks.

They're poisoning us, Mark. They want to keep us sick. No, that's ridiculous. There has to be an explanation for all this. You've been sick for two weeks. You've been taking the pills for two weeks. weeks. If you can't piece this together, maybe we do deserve to die. Mark walks over to the toilet in the corner of the room and pours out the pills into the bowl. He flushes the toilet. That puts us in

the clear from the poison. But now what are we going to do about Kelly? We're not going to do anything about Kelly because there's nothing to do. So you just flushed all of your pills down the toilet for fun? The pills had nothing to do with Kelly. I just don't like how they make me feel. The guy from that call earlier said we had less than 15 minutes to get out of the house. I suggest we pick it up. Time is ticking. Mark walks out of the bathroom and heads downstairs into the living room. He paces in quick and deliberate steps, upset that he is even entertaining such a delusion.

This makes no sense. I just need a minute to think. We don't have a minute. She's going to be home soon with that killer surprise. Then we're fucked. But why would she do it? She has no reason to want to hurt me. Think about it, Mark.

Kelly could have any man she wants. Didn't you ever once question why she settled for you? I wouldn't exactly call it settling. I'm funny. Girls like funny. Funny looking, perhaps. Try again. I'm easy to talk to.

So is a plant, but I wouldn't marry it. And don't even try telling me you're good in bed because we both know that's a lie. Mark focuses his gaze on a picture, resting. on the coffee table. The portrait is of Kelly and him on their wedding day. Face it, Mark, did you really think this was going to last forever? We had a good run. Now let's book it. Doesn't make any sense. Why is she doing this? Unless... Go on. Unless she wants a fresh start? And she can't have a fresh start if... If we're still in the picture. Bingo.

Who knows how long her and Dr. Ted have been playing operation behind your back. She probably made a pit stop at his office for a quick throat swab this morning before you got up. I bet she never even went to lunch with Linda. Linda? Mark digs feverishly into his pocket and pulls out his cell phone. He maniacally scrolls through his contact list before landing on Linda. He calls the number and holds the phone up to his ear, unsure of what he will say. Linda picks up on the other end.

Hi, Linda. Kelly called me a few minutes ago and said she might have left her purse at the restaurant. Do you recall if she left with it? What? At lunch. She wasn't sure if she remembered it being on the table when you two left. I had lunch with Kelly today. She was pretty upset when she called.

I must have misunderstood her on the phone. You know Kelly. Yeah, that sounds like Kelly. I find it, though. Well, that makes two of us. Thanks, Linda. Mark hangs up the phone and sits down on the couch, trying to make sense of his new startling reality. This is crazy.

But I'm sure all of this can be explained. Explain the stranger on the laptop. Okay, that can't be explained. Somehow, your future self was able to warn us of our impending death, and we're just going to sit here and let it happen? Okay, I'll just leave. If I leave, then nothing bad can happen. I just need some time to sort this all out. Mark stands up and starts to make his way towards the front door.

That's the first sensible thing you've said today. Let me just grab my keys and... Mark peers through the living room window and sees Kelly's car parked outside in the driveway. Kelly opens the driver's side door and heads towards the trunk to unload her groceries. It's too late. We're trapped. Mark races to the kitchen. He stands silently as he hears the front door open and close in the next room. Kelly enters the kitchen holding a large white box,

with her purse and two blue grocery bags slung around her shoulder. Kelly places the white box onto the counter and sets the groceries on the kitchen table. She smiles at her husband. Hey, babe. How was the store? Kelly walks over to the white box and pulls out a large knife. from the drawer. She places the blade on top of the box and heads back to the kitchen table.

She begins unpacking the groceries from the plastic bags and places them in the refrigerator. You would not believe how packed it was up there. It seems like everyone and their mother needed to restock their pantry at the exact same time. I almost got into a fistfight with an old woman for the last pound of turkey meat. Can you believe that? No, I can't believe that. How was lunch? It was fine.

Just fine? Kelly takes a break from stalking the groceries and shoots a peculiar look at Mark. Yeah, just fine. Is that okay with you? Where'd you guys go? To that new place on Bel Air? Right next to the dry cleaners I take your suits to.

What'd you order? Just a salad. I wasn't as hungry as I thought I was going to be, trying to save some room for pizza night. What did Linda order? The laptop on the table begins to ring. It is receiving a FaceTime call. Kelly looks at the laptop and then back at Mark.

Are you going to answer that? They can wait. What linda order at the restaurant? Are you feeling all right, dear? You know what? Let me go get your pills. I don't need the goddamn pills. All right, all right, no pills.

I know, Kelly. I know everything. You know what? Mark, you're starting to scare me. You're scared? I called Linda. She said you two never even met for lunch today. Kelly closes the refrigerator and faces her husband.

A look of disgust slowly rides across her face. She begins to grind her teeth as she usually does when becoming upset. Why would you call Linda? Why would you lie to me? If you wanted to make a house visit to Dr. Ted, you could have at least had the courtesy to give me a heads up. Is that what this is all about? No.

This is about you telling me you're going to be at one place and ending up at another. Kelly, where did you go today? Kelly smiles and begins to take small steps in Mark's direction. Mark, I can see how this all looks. You have every right to be angry, but sweetie, you're just a little confused right now. I think I'm finally starting to see things clearly for once. Mark backs up until his hips are pressed up against the stove. What has gotten into you today?

Kelly pauses and walks over to the large white box on the opposite side of the room. She picks up the knife from the top of the box and clutches it close to her chest. Why did you have to call Linda and ruin a perfectly good surprise? Kelly turns to face Mark, but before she can fully make her way around, Mark plunges his own knife into her abdomen. Kelly gasps for air as a look of confusion sweeps over her face. She claws at Mark's shoulders for support as the pool of warm blood on her sweater grows larger in size by the second. I guess I had a big surprise for you too. Mark slowly backs away.

Kelly reaches out towards him for a brief moment before her body goes limp and she crumbles to the ground. Mark takes a moment to admire Kelly's ability to see. still look beautiful in such a difficult circumstance. He steps over his wife and takes a seat at the kitchen table. He picks up the coffee mug and lifts it to his lips before remembering it is decaf. He sets the cup back down on the table and sits in silence. The laptop begins to ring. He is receiving a FaceTime call from the same stranger from before.

He opens his device and accepts the call. the same stranger in all of his infinite wisdom sits before him. It's done. I took care of her. Tell me, how did you know about Kelly? Her big surprise? Oh, shit. Do I still have that thing on?

The stranger on the other end of the call reaches for a button on his computer. The image of the stranger instantly transforms into Jason, Mark's closest friend. A look of panic consumes Mark's face. Hey, buddy, sorry about that. Isn't this shit crazy? This girl from work showed me this filter that makes you look all the person you're FaceTiming with. I nearly shit my...

I couldn't pass up the chance. A filter? Yeah, insane, right? He's going to kill him. I found out Linda fucked up the surprise by not covering for Kelly and I was ready to kill. Mark looks down at his dead wife, laying on the ground next to him, and then back up. at his laptop. Linda walks onto the screen. Between me and you, try to act a little surprise when we get there, okay?

And don't worry about going hungry tonight because I'm bringing over a huge bowl of my famous Linda Linguini for the party. Linda walks off screen. Jason smiles and ends the call. Mark stands up and walks over to the white box Kelly had placed on the counter only moments before. He slowly flips open the lid and is greeted by a birthday cake, trimmed in tiny flowers and blue icing. Sleepless tales have dispersed this night. Poetic works from darkness alight. We leave you with this a question on a theme. Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream. The No Sleep Podcast is presented by Creative Reason Media. The musical score was composed by Brandon Boone.

Our production team is Phil Mikulski, Jeff Clement, and Jesse Cornett. Our creative content manager is Ollie White. Our editor-in-chief is Jessica McAvoy. Please visit the No Sleeppodcast.com for show notes and more details about the people who bring you this show. On behalf of everyone at the No Sleep Podcast, we thank you for being a supportive season past member and for joining us within the exquisite horror of our reality. This audio program is copyright 2023 by Creative Reason Media Inc. All rights reserved. The copyrights for each story are held by the respective authors. No duplication or reproduction of this audio program is

permitted without the written consent of Creative Reason Media, Inc.