The NoSleep Podcast - S21 Ep21: NoSleep Podcast S21E21

Episode Date: September 22, 2024

It's Episode 21 of Season 21. Ride the Sleepless Express into tales about vile visitors. "The Other Door" written by Rory Say (Story starts around 00:04:00) TRIGGER WARNING! Produced by: Phil Michalski Cast: Narrator - Kyle Akers "No Reward Necessary" written by Andrew Hughes (Story starts around 00:13:45) Produced by: Phil Michalski Cast: Narrator - David Cummings, Jask - Atticus Jackson, Mathewson - Jesse Cornett "The Gehenna Hollow Tunnel" written by Cole James (Story starts around 00:28:45) Produced by: Phil Michalski Cast: Cole - Dan Zappulla, Garrett - Allonté Barakat, Josh - Jeff Clement, Ally - Linsay Rousseau, Maddie - Nichole Goodnight, Noah - Matthew Bradford, Andrew - Graham Rowat "House Guest" written by S.J. Walker (Story starts around 01:06:30) TRIGGER WARNING! Produced by: Jeff Clement Cast: Anna - Kristen DiMercurio, Henry - Graham Rowat, Christina - Mary Murphy "What Waits at Weodune" written by Simon Bleaken (Story starts around 01:21:30) TRIGGER WARNING! Produced by: Jesse Cornett Cast: Russ - Mike DelGaudio, Jay - Jesse Cornett, Sarah - Mary Murphy, Shane - Matthew Bradford This episode is sponsored by: Betterhelp - This episode is sponsored by BetterHelp. Give online therapy a try at betterhelp.com/nosleep and get on your way to being your best self. The Lets Read Podcast - The Lets Read Podcast centers around true scary experiences from real people, just like yourself. Ranging from creepy stalkers to paranormal encounters with the other side. Available wherever you get your podcasts. Click here to learn more about The NoSleep Podcast team Click here to learn more about "Tales From the Void" Click here to learn more about Simon Bleaken Executive Producer & Host: David Cummings Musical score composed by: Brandon Boone "What Waits at Weodune" illustration courtesy of Alia Synesthesia Audio program ©2024 - 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.

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Start your free trial today. Tickets, please. Find your seats. The train will be departing shortly. You're aboard, the sleepless Express. A direct journey into the darkness of the night. There are no sleeping cars available on this train. On this journey, you will experience the horrors found within the dark landscapes and endless black tunnels.

You will hear things. which will leave you frightened and disturbed. And remember, there will be no stops until the very end of the life. Brace yourself for the No Sleep Podcast. Welcome aboard the No Sleep Podcast. I'm your conductor, David Cummings. One of the ways that podcasts went from being obscure parts of pop culture

to a medium full of huge stars and power. Big Productions is via its method of delivery. Once a nerdy tech protocol, the RSS feed has made podcasts easy to consume because of how easy it is to update apps with new episodes. It's a really simple syndication method. That's why it's called RSS. Nowadays, you just open your podcast app and new episodes visit your feeds. Easy and or peasy.

And with these new episodes, Visiting your feeds each week, I'm excited to announce that you'll be seeing a new limited-run podcast appearing in your No Sleep podcast feeds for the next few weeks. This is because we are thrilled that the new streaming series, Tales from the Void, will be premiering in October. They'll be on Screenbox in the U.S., Super Channel in Canada, and we'll soon be announcing how our international viewers can watch the show. And to prime you for the new horror anthology streaming series, we'll be very. releasing eight episodes of the Tales from the Void

Behind the Scenes podcast. There'll be 30 to 50 minute episodes in which I'll interview some of the writers and directors of each of the six Tales from the Void episodes. We hope to release them on Wednesdays starting on September 25th. So watch for those episodes

to drop in your feeds and listen in if you want to get a glimpse behind the curtain to learn how stories can go from the No Sleep subreddit to the screen. And with a new podcast popping into your feeds, it's the perfect time to talk about those people and things that can pop into our lives visiting us without warning. And while new podcasts are good things, I'm sure you can imagine that on this week's episode, the visitors who show up are less than desirable. Some people really should just keep to themselves and leave us alone, right?

Well, yes, they will in fact leave us alone. But you're not alone on the sleepless express. We'll be right beside you in this dark train car. And now the train is ready to depart. Your journey into the darkness begins now. In our first tale, we have something adorable to share. Oh no, no, wait. We have a door able to give us nightmares. You see, in this tale, shared with us by author, Rory Say, we meet a man who is troubled by a door. It's not about it being

locked. It's that it keeps showing up almost everywhere he goes. Performing this tale is Kyle Acres. So say what you will about closed doors leading to open winter. windows and all that. It doesn't apply to the other door. Every house that I've lived in, there has been a door that's kept locked. Picture a plain white door in a house, and you've seen it. Turn your head now, and you might find its likeness nearby. Only there are none just like it. Rarely does it remain in the same place for longer than a day.

If I wake to see it in the wall past my feet, I'm likely to come upon it later in some downstairs room, or in the hallway, and later again somewhere no door belongs, in the center of a window, for example, or angled in the vaulted ceiling of a cramped attic. Often as a child, I found it in the floorboards beneath my bed, under which I knew there was no basement. Perhaps it was there, I first discovered it. I have memories of searching for toys beneath my bed and finding a door whose knob held fast when I tried to turn it. If I cried out for long enough, my mother or father would come blearily in. How many times did I watch their irritation shift to concern as they explained to me over and over that there was no other door in the room? How long before I accepted that, from their point of view, they were telling the truth? In terms of opening it, my earliest attempts were no more successful than my most recent ones.

At first I used what methods were available. With fists and fingers I beat and clawed at the frame, until I was yelled at and punished for leaving dents and scratches on the walls throughout the house. My continued fixation weighed heavily on my parents. They argued about what, if anything, was to be done with me. At last I was taken into a high room in a tall, building where a sharp-faced woman asked me questions about the other door. When did I first encounter it? Why did I think it was locked? What did I suppose lay on its far side? But I did not

wish to tell her at these things. She had no right, I felt, and still feel now, to know them. So I stood from a chair and tried to leave. But the knob on the door behind me wouldn't budge when I clutched it. And I screamed as I beat and clawed at the frame. The situation at home, bad as it was, worsened in the wake of this incident. I can no longer bear the thought of a locked door, any locked door in the house. All were to be kept open, preferably ajar. This meant that every night it was necessary to creep from bed and open the front door, which was the only one that my father, no matter how I pleaded, insisted, be kept shut and locked. I was routinely punished for doing this, and yet I kept doing it.

And the fact I kept doing it, as well as the increasing severity of the punishments inflicted upon me, there was, I recall some disagreement as to the nature of these punishments, deepened the rift that divided my parents. An unpleasant rivalry ensued, as each sought privately to poison my view of the other. At the same time, my well-being was daily and loudly debated as though I myself were not present, and I began to only feel partly visible, a bystander in my own skin, there and not there, like the other door through which I could never escape. We moved houses, or rather, my father moved while my mother stayed where we had been.

Though fearful of moving anywhere, I was obliged to spend every Wednesday and Sunday, night at this different house of my father's, which was really only a part of a house with fewer doors that locked. Nevertheless, it was there I learned that the other door followed me. In the morning, after I spent my first night in the house, I found it waiting in the living room, behind the couch on which my father still slept. As I wedged myself between the couch and the wall, He awoke and asked me what in the world I was doing. I paused with my hand on the knob. But before I could think of how to explain,

I saw that look on my father's face I had grown so deeply to fear. Next, I was taken to a group of men who took blood for my arms with needles and tubes, and who placed a helmet on my head so they could study my brain. For some reason, these measurements brought out the worst in my parents, who more adamantly than ever refused to share a house. Then came a Sunday. when I was dropped off to stay with my father and found nobody there to meet me. It was some sort of game in play.

Nothing could be more uncharacteristic of my father, whose idea of play was that it should be structured and essentially educational. So I sat down on the bed that was his when I was gone and mine when I was there, and awaited his return. How long did I wait? I suppose, in a way, I am still waiting now. When I grew too frightened of the empty quiet, I went to leave the room, but froze in the doorway as though I'd been struck.

Suddenly I felt watched or keenly perceived in some other way. Turning around, I knew just where I would find the other door. On the opposite side of the bed, half-hidden past my father's collection of hanging shirts. I could see it in the closet. There was no mistaking what it was, and yet some indefinable change drew me across the room. only after I had pushed aside what clothes were in the way. Could I clearly see the translucent, skin-like laminate that now covered every inch of the door's frame? The search for my father commenced that very night, and continues, at least in some, official capacity, to the present.

I've been told that the strains of a troubled child can at times be too great of a burden for a parent to bear. Two, irresistible becomes the temptation to flee when the opportunity presents itself. resettle somewhere and keep the guilt buried as it should be but why is it that I have trouble believing he's really entirely gone I have never felt

his absence so strongly as does my mother for in every house I have lived in there has been a door that's kept locked one whose wide frame now pulses with a warm pleasant heat as though it were a body

that had spent all its days in the sun when it comes to odd visit Sometimes they can captivate you and play on your emotions, like Jask, when he discovers a cute stray dog. And in this tale, shared with us by author Andrew Hughes, the dog not only gets invited into Jask's home, but into his heart as well. Performing this tale with me are Atticus Jackson and Jesse Cornett. So if you find a stray, try to return him to his owner. And of course, no reward necessary. Head light, fingers tingling, and belly warm.

Jask stepped into the alley behind the Radisson Hotel to take a leak. Unzipping, his head leaned back. He heard the noise, a soft little whimper. Finishing his stream, he tucked up and stepped from behind the dumpster. His heart melted. A mangy-looking golden, retriever with sad, dejected eyes stood beneath a flickering exterior bulb. The animal whimpered and pawed the ground. Its head bowed.

Hey, buddy. Jask kneeled down a few paces away. How's it going? The dog looked up, made eye contact, then glanced down, ashamed. No, no, no, no, no. It's all right. Look, I'm a friend. Patting his pocket, he felt his phone, wallet, keys, and finally, the granola bar. It was his emergency snack just in case the liquor hit too hard and he needed to sober up quick. He peeled open the wrapper. The dog glanced up, attentive.

Yeah, you hungry? Jask pulled off a piece. Mmm, it looks good. Peanut butter crunch. He tossed the first piece at the dog's feet. It sniffed it for a moment, then hesitantly took a bite. It didn't need any further convincing. Immediately it took a few steps closer and sat on its haunches.

Pretty good, right? Jask broke off another more sizable chunk and outstretched it. For a moment, he felt a prickling fear as he thought of Kujo and prepared to pull his hand back before the fingers could be ripped off. leaving only bloody stubs, but the dog took it gently with more tongue than teeth. That a boy. Last one. The dog scarfed it down and took a step forward, nuzzling its face into Jask's leg. That was it, buddy.

His stomach rumbled a reminder that he too should eat something if he wasn't going to be completely useless tomorrow. He ran his hand over the dog's head, scratching it behind the airs. It had a collar, a thick, bulky kind with a big blinking sensor around the throat. Some kind of shock collar, he thought with disgust. Who could harm a sweet guy like this? The dog licked the crumbs from his hand and tried to pull the wrapper away. Oh, that's all gone. Jask snuck his hand around the collar until he found a lot.

little silver emblem. There was no name on the caller, only the moniker, number three, two, four. Below that was a phone number. Hmm. He pawed for his phone. What's going on at home, Tufor? The dog continued to lick, this time putting a paw upon his thigh, tongue reaching for his face. Easy, buddy.

Jask chuckled as he stood up, pulling his phone. from his pocket. Dead. That's right. That's why I'm walking instead of Ubering. He looked down at Toofer, and the dog stared back, pleadingly. Have a good night, buddy. He took two steps back.

Tufor traipsed after him, tails swishing with excitement. God damn it. Jask sighed, making a decision that he knew he normally wouldn't. Let's go. As if the dog understood slurred English, it let out an excited yip. Jask looked around for something he could use as a leash. Finding nothing, he patted his person. Consider taking off his shirt, then settled on his belt.

With one hand resting on Toofur's head, he fed the leather strap between bulbous collar and fur. As he did, Toofer's head twisted, teeth bared in a savage. snarl. Yo! Jask took a step back. What's wrong? Tofer looked up at him with an excited gaze, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

Easy guy. With the belt lashed through Toofer's collar, they walked side by side, cutting through the back alleys, weaving their way through the sleeping city. The apartment elevator was out, as always. By the time they,

they climbed the six stories, Jask had sobered up and felt an overwhelming wave of exhaustion. He opened the apartment door and ushered Tufor in. All right, make yourself at home. Just not on the bed. Tufer leapt onto the bed, swishing his tail. Jask sighed. It was just for one night. Stumbling to the fridge, he grabbed a handful of deli roast beef for them to share, then collapsed into the bed. He fell asleep, with Toofer curled at his feet. Jask's dreams were a drunken slur, a constant kaleidoscope downward spiral into blackness that never truly came. At some point he became aware of a sensation from outside his head,

a warmth wafting across his neck, a wet, meaty exhalation on his jugular. His eyes shot open, and for a moment he was startled by the filthy dog. laying sprawled across his chest, black eyes staring down at him. He opened his mouth to yelp when the memory of the night before floated back. Hey, Tufor. He pinched his eyes shut. It was too early and the light through the shades was blinding. Tufor licked his face, tongue grazing his lips and warming its way into his nostrils. Jask thought of disease and famine but was too tired to care. Couple more minutes.

Come on. He rolled over. Tofer found this unacceptable and began to let out brief, throaty yips. Jask pounded a fist into the mattress and sighed. Fine. Toonfer let out an excited bark and spun around on the bed, his thick, matted tail swinging wildly behind him. Jask started off with a cup of coffee,

then another as he looked around for something to use as a leash. While the leather belt had functioned well enough the night before, it might look strange before the late morning brunch crowd. An iPhone charger? The cord for an old vacuum he'd long since gotten rid of, fishing wire spooled in a kitchen drawer. Eventually, he settled on a different belt, a much more innocuous strip of felt used to tie his bathrobe together.

Changing into shorts and a t-shirt, Jask and Toofer, an equally mangy pair set to the street. As they walked through the back alleys, Toofer peed on the sides of buildings and had to be kept from eating scraps of food left behind by the homeless. In doing this, Jask felt a sense of responsibility he'd been missing in his life. It grew in his chest like a tumor. When they got back to the apartment, it was the... three over-easy eggs and juice for him and another handful of roast beef for Toofer, who scrounged it down and stared doe-eyed up at him for more. Jask gave in to the pleading stare.

Fine. Then he picked up his phone. Fully charged from the night before, he knelt down beside Toofer, punched in the phone number from the oddly shaped caller, then paused, Eyes darting from the green call button to the golden retriever sprawled out on his floor. He felt a sense of sorrow. Even after less than 12 hours, he'd grown attached. Nonetheless, he pressed the button.

The phone rang seven times before the answering machine clicked. The voice sounded rushed and gasping for air, as if it had been recorded shortly after running a 5K. Please leave your name and number and a reason for contact. Hey, Dr. Matthewson. My name is Jask Turner. You don't know me, but I found your dog downtown last night. He turned and watched Toofer try to bite his tail. He doesn't have a name tag, just a number on his collar. Golden Retriever, looking a little scruffy.

Toofer gave up on the pursuit and leapt onto the couch. Anyway, man, I just wanted to let you know. Give me a shout back and we can figure out a place to meet. Jask paused for a moment. He never knew how to end this type of call. Thanks. Bye. He hung up the phone and set it back on the counter.

All right, boy. Let the message for your dad. We'll see when he gets back to me. But you need a bath, my guy. Look at that. You're already getting dirt on the couch. Come on. Tufer leapt up and followed him into the bathroom,

where Jask shut the door behind them. So are you one of those water lovers, or am I going to have to hold you in there? As it turned out, Toofer was the former. The second Jask turned the faucet handle, Tufur leapt into the tub and began splashing his feet in the rising water. Slow down, buddy. Jask's eyes settled.

on the blinking collar. I can't go damage in the bling. He unclipped it and set it on the counter before uncapping the bottle of shampoo. Jask had just finished washing off the suds when he heard his cell phone ring. All right. Stay. He held up a finger to Toofer.

The dog blinked twice as Jast backed away, shutting the door behind him. Jogging to the kitchen counter, he snatched up the phone and, slid the green answer bar. Hello. The voice on the phone sounded even more out of breath than in the voicemail. Yes, sir?

He opened the cabinet and pulled out a water glass. This, Dr. Matthewson? Easy, man. Jask turned on the tab. Your dog's safe, don't worry. What? Jask's hand was still outstretched, the water overflowing and running between his fingers. I gave him a bath.

I have to kill it right now before it's changing. Jask felt the glass slip from his fingers. Behind him, the bathroom door creaked open, and the air filled with mirthful, high-pitched laughter. Visitors who come to us unexpectedly can be unnerving. But what about when others visit a strange location, one with a bizarre history? Like in this tale, shared with us,

by author Cole James. You see, Cole himself has an interest in unexplained phenomena. That's why he wants to meet Garrett, who has quite a tale to share with him. Performing this tale are Dan Zepula, Alante Berwickette, Jeff Clement, Lindsay Russo, Nicole Goodnight, Matthew Bradford, and Graham Rowett. And so, don't worry about being on a train going through dark tunnels. I'm pretty sure we're not traveling through the Gahena Hollow Tunnel. Garrett showed up 15 minutes early, right as I was wheeling the old Magnavox into one of the media

viewing rooms and trying unsuccessfully not to disturb the handful of other students, watching me struggle. He waved sheepishly and slid the bag from under his shoulder onto the folding plastic table. I shook his hand and gestured for him to take one of the rolling chairs, after it became clear that he wasn't going to offer to help me move the television. Well over half of the Haining Library basement was dedicated to the school's collection of non-print media, photographs, film, audio recordings, and the like. When Garrett Roberts had reached out to me about sharing some video of an unexplained event,

he'd specified that we needed access to some more vintage equipment to make it work. Thankfully, I had known just the place to suggest. Like most small schools, Atwood College was slow to upgrade their tech, and when they did, it ended up in media equipment storage, which is where I'd found this 20-inch CRT beauty, complete with matching VCR, and signed it out for the evening. I gave up once the TV carts casters dug in to the old uneven carpet of the booth and refused to budge. Deciding it was good enough, I wiped the sweat from my brow and began extricating my tripod from my backpack. Do you mind if I record this? I'm not the fastest note taker and it helps to go back and review for anything I might have missed.

Garrett's tired eyes studied me for a moment. Then he gave a weak shrug. I guess, I don't mind. Though, if you're going to try to record the TV with that... He pointed at the phone I was mounting to the tripod. It's probably not going to work. Yeah, the rolling blur from videoing these old tube televisions means I probably won't capture much detail with this. That's not really what I meant. You'll see what I mean. From his bag, he produced a chunky camcorder in mint condition despite its age, along with a power cord and composite cables.

Damn, last from the past. Garrett hooked the camcorder to the old TV. Once we were settled in, I turned the lights down in the listening room and started recording. This is Cole James, and here with me is Garrett Roberts, who reached out to me regarding his video of a recent... What did you say you were doing when you shot this? A research project. On the iron industry in Southeast Ohio. Mostly about the old furnaces and the derelict railroad still found around the region.

Have you ever been to any of them? I nodded. I like to go kayaking at the local lakes sometimes. I've seen the furnaces at Lake Hope and Lake Vesuvius. Hope Furnace was the one I specifically wanted to visit, because it also has the Moonville and Kings Hollow Railroad tunnels nearby. Moonville? Isn't that the one that's supposed to be haunted?

I phrased it to sound like I wasn't entirely familiar, but of course I'd heard of it. Anyone who's studied paranormal happenings in southeast Ohio knows about Moonville. Supposedly, there have been multiple sightings of an apparition holding a lantern or the unexplained roar of a train at night. It's easily accessible, photogenic, and they even host annual ghost tours. Yeah, I suppose so. Garrett shifted uncomfortably in his chair. We, well,

Josh and Ali thought it would be a good spot to take pictures for their photography class. They were doing a group project on documenting abandoned places. So I invited them along. Josh and Ali are friends of yours? Yes. We all went to high school together. Josh and I were friends back then and Ali, Alyssa. We took some classes together last year and started hanging out.

out. And the video you have. That was you recording the day you spent together? Going to the furnace and the old train tunnels? Yes. How long ago was this? Just a few weeks ago. I made a few notes in my journal.

Okay, whenever you're ready, Garrett. Garrett pressed the play button on the camcorder. It word and clicked as the TV screen went from static to blue, then to black, and then suddenly... We don't know if it is. even still works, does it? The image on the screen whipped up to slowly focus on a smiling young man with a scruffy, dark beard and ponytail. He's driving while Garrett is filming from the passenger seat.

No, it's recording now. Say hi, Josh. Hi, Josh. You're a fucking dweeb. The camera pans behind Josh and Garrett to show a young woman in a baggy neon green hoodie with short purple hair and piercings. Next to her, another young woman is giggling. She's the opposite of the first,

petite, blonde, wearing a North Face jacket and yoga pants. This is Allie and Maddie. Say hi, girls. Hi. Maddie gives a wave while Allie flashes mock gang signs. So, bitches. And the party's here in the back, fools. A younger, clean-shaven person.

version of Josh leans over the middle seat between the two girls. He gives dual-fisted middle fingers to the camera. And that's Noah. Okay, seriously now, guys, I do actually need to show some of this to my professor at some point, so when I say so, you'll need to... Not be a bunch of dicks? Yes, exactly. And I'm going to record a segment right now. So if you could just be quiet for a few minutes... Why wouldn't you just record it on your phone? You got an iPhone, don't you? That's going to give you way better quality than that dinosaur. Oh, because I'm going to use some of the video for my own project. I think that camera is sick.

I offered to buy it off Roberts, but his asking price is too high. How much? Three hundred bucks. Well, I said I wouldn't go any higher than two, and I'd massage his nipples for five minutes. Come on, Josh. I already told you, Roberts, take it or leave it. Josh grins widely. No, seriously, these old Sony hands are.

Candy cams kick ass. That one's a high eight. Good old-fashioned analog. You know that 25 years ago they recalled a bunch of them because they could see through clothing? Bullshit. He's right. I saw a YouTube video about it.

Some of them had night vision, and the infrared light would, like, show a girl's nipples and pubes if they wore the right kind of clothing. Maddie makes a face. Gross. That explains why Roberts won't let it go. Uh, can we stop talking about nipples? Josh, tell me why you invited your brother along again.

Josh rolls his eyes. Because I'm supposed to keep this dipshit entertained for some reason. It was the only way I could borrow this sweet ride for all of us. He pats the steering wheel. Ali smirks. Maybe room for shenanigans. So how close are we to Lake Hope now? Josh looks at the phone mounted on the dash.

About 20 more minutes. And I still need to record my entry before. Before we get there, so please, can I just have a couple minutes, guys? Come on now, everyone. Let the man do his thing. Thanks, Josh. In the decades before the Civil War, thousands of tons of iron ore were mined, processed,

and shipped out of the dozen furnaces that dotted South East Ohio, fed by the hardworking men that came looking for prosperity and the virgin timber that covered these hills, Linking them all was a vast, hastily constructed network of... Garrett stopped the video, then hit the fast forward. We can skip this part. It's not that exciting. Just more of this for a while. Me talking, them goofing off.

I scribbled a few notes. So Josh had to bring Noah, and what about Maddie? Is she Ali's friend? Cousin? He gave no more information. Things were quiet for a minute before. before Garrett stopped the tape again. This is when we were at Moonville.

I leaned forward in anticipation. The video showed the group at the opening of a large brick tunnel, over 30 feet high and nearly as wide. Graffiti covered the arched brick walls up to about 10 feet. Panning across the several tourists crowded inside, Garrett had focused the camera on a young man, holding the leash of a massive shaggy Leonberger, who was getting much attention from Allie and Maddie.

Would you say the dog's name was? Gunter. He's a ham, loves attention. He's got quite the following on Instagram and TikTok. I'm out of it right now. Oh! It's good boy Gunter 17, all one word. The man looks over her shoulder.

Yeah, that's me. Oh my gosh! The camera wanders up to the stone sign over the, the tunnel, engraved with the word moonville. Maddie's hands are buried in Gunther's fur. So, do you live around here? We're from down in Grand River, near Lafayette. The man nods.

I'm in Logan, so not too far. It was way too crowded at the other parks today, so I came down here. But it's honestly not much better. We might end up walking all the way to King's Hollow if he's up to it. Josh snaps a few pictures. How far as that? About three miles. The rail trail is great for walking.

Nice and flat and paved. Is that what you're doing today? Josh straightens up and checks his Nikon. Well, I mean, we're not sure. We were supposed to be getting photos of abandoned places, but like you said, too many people. That's what we get for coming on a Saturday when the weather's this nice. You're trying for shots of old rail tunnels?

Any old railroad or iron-furnished stuff, really? but there's not that many left that you can easily get to. The man's face lights up. Have you been to the one out on Gahana Hollow? Maddie stands, giving Gunther a final scratch behind an ear. Where's that? Not far from here. I just went a few weeks ago.

It's not marked on the maps. I sort of just found it by accident. Take 183 west from here for 10 minutes, then takes out of road. Gahana Hollow is the second left. The tunnel was maybe a mile or two out, right next to the road. Can't miss it. Is it haunted? Maybe. All these old tunnels have a ghost story or two, don't they? Garrett suddenly started fast-forwarding the tape again.

He was visibly uncomfortable, but before I could think of a question to break the silence, he stopped the tape and pressed play again. Garrett is back in the passenger seat of the van, filming a dusty gravel single track lined with trees so thick they could have been driving through an abandoned tunnel by accident. God, I hope I don't meet anyone on this fucking road. You know how good old boys and jacked up trucks like to drive. Drinking beer, shooting deer in my big truck.

Macrode's looking toes in my big truck. God, shut up. Hey, that was good. You respect your elders. Driver controls the music. That means you... Shit! There are the sounds of shrieking and tires

scrabbling against gravel. The video blurs as the camera tumbles to the floor. What the fuck was that, Josh? Did you see it? We found it. Garrett picks up the camcorder and swings it around to the passenger window. There, almost completely shrouded in foliage, is a massive black hole.

in the hillside. Josh maneuvers the minivan onto the opposite shoulder. The crew exits into dappled light barely breaking through the dense canopy above, made all the more ethereal by the cloud of glittering road dust now hanging in the air. All right, everyone, I brought extra flashlights. Josh tosses a small toolbox to Alley before turning to dig his camera bag and tripod from the rear of the van. Garrett, are you going to need extra light in there?

I've got an LED stand and a battery pack if you want it. Maybe. But this does have night vision. I might try that out first. Just don't aim that at me. Oh, no, I would never do anything like that. Don't worry. Garrett lets the camera linger on Maddie for several seconds as she ties her jacket around her waist.

This place is badass. Allie jogs in and out of view towards the black maw of the hollow. Unlike Moonville, this tunnel completely lacks masonry or supports of any kind, appearing more like a natural cave than something carved by hand. The beams of the group's flashlights sweep through the rough sandstone walls, stained by iron ore and crusted minerals that seep out of the multitude of cracks in the rock. The floor of the tunnel is an uneven mix of sand, mud, and broken stones, some rather large, dislodged from the ceiling nearly three stories above.

A flash briefly illuminates the cavernous space. Josh is snapping away with his Nikon as Ali passes him, pushing deeper into the darkness. A half-circle of light from the other end of the tunnel can be seen in the far distance, perhaps a hundred yards or more, though it's hard to tell as the camcorder struggles to maintain focus in the dim light. Hey guys, come check this out. Allie's voice sounds unusually distant, despite her only being a few dozen feet away.

Chalk it up to a poor microphone and the tunnel's unique acoustics, I figured. The camera moves closer, occasionally tilting down as Garrett navigates around the rocks and puddles. Allie's flashlight sweeps across a pool of water that stretches from wall to wall in front of her. Look. She points the beam in front and away from her. The water keeps going until the light can no longer reach it. Looks like this is as far as we can go. That sucks.

Allie tosses a pebble into the water. It disappears immediately under the rippling surface. I wonder how deep it is. If it's not that far... There's no guarantee there aren't any big holes further out. This tunnel seems unfinished. I don't see any signs of the old railway outside leading up to it. It could just be buried under all the trees.

and shit. Allie shrugs, stepping away from the water's edge. This has got to be, what, 150 years old? At least, so it's possible. But I checked all the maps I have on the way here. They don't show any rail lines going in through this area. And their records were pretty good. Kind of hard to lose a railroad.

Garrett walks back towards the light of the entrance, passing Josh and Noah. Maddie is at the mouth of the tunnel, poking around at the ground with a trekking pole. What do you think? She looks at the camera with a wan smile and a shrug before turning back to flipping rocks over with the pole. It's all right, I guess. Not a fan of the dark? Not really. So you, uh, you're staying with Allie at her place?

Maddie nods. Her dad is my uncle. My parents on her cruise for two weeks. Oh, cool. I mean, it sucks that you couldn't go with them, that they just left you behind. Do you go to Atwood? No.

She flips another rock. A few black beetles scurry off to find other hiding places. I was going for teaching. at Marshall, but I kind of hated it, so I'm taking a year off. Oh, okay. Cool. There's a long, awkward moment where Garrett continues filming Maddie as she continues flipping stones. I looked over at him as we watched. He was still, though I thought I could see his lip quiver in the light from the TV. Hey, check this out. Maddie bends over and brushes leaves

aside to reveal the corner of what appears to be a rectangular sheet of thick metal. She strains to pry it loose from the ground. It's really heavy. Can you help me? Uh, yeah. Hold on. The video stops, then immediately picks back up, but now the sign is laying uncovered on the bare ground in front of the tunnel.

It's roughly the size of a poster board, and through the patina of soil and rust, I can just make out the raised lettering. Jehanna Tunnel, 1857. This is... This is really amazing. You might be the first people to see the sign in a really long time. Maddie brushes more of the dirt and rust off the sign.

Below the date, there appear to be deep gouges in the metal. It was hard to make out on the video, but apparently they were more letters. Don't follow them. That's weird. Don't follow who. Hey. At the sudden voice, the camera lurches up to reveal Allie at the mouth of the tunnel. Jeez, Allie, you scared us.

Us? You're the only one that jumped. She smirks. Then she notices the sign. Whoa, sick. Did you guys just find this? Yeah. Well, Maddie found it.

Over then the weeds. That's dope. Wait, what does that say? Ali mouths the words dug into the metal, and her eyes grow wide. Kind of creepy, isn't it? Yeah. Allie bites her lip nervously, peering back over her shoulder into the tunnel. So I was all about this place at first, right?

But like, the longer I look around, have you noticed that this place seems a little bit off? Well, it's a big dark tunnel in the middle of the woods. What did you expect? It's not just that... I mean, you know how you said it's not on your maps? Well, I tried to look it up online before we ran out of service. I couldn't find anything. Maybe just not very many people know it's out here.

If it was abandoned before, it was used, then it was probably just forgotten about. We're pretty far out in the boonies. There's another thing. Places like this attract rednecks, like a NASCAR barbecue, and they always leave shit everywhere. there's not a single piece of trash in that tunnel. No beer bottles, no condom wrappers, not even graffiti.

This is probably private property, right? Someone might have cleaned it up recently. But why? And also, if the tunnel was abandoned before it was finished, why make a sign for it? Maddie's probably right. There's probably someone that looks after the tunnel. They could have made the sign.

We have no idea how old it actually is. Maybe it's just... Sorry, I'm probably being stupid. No? No, I don't think you are, Allie. I don't like this place either. We should get Josh and no one tell them we want to leave. Yeah, yeah, okay.

I've got enough footage. I can record the rest later. Do you think it'd be all right to take the sign? Allie choose on one of her nails. Maybe not. If someone actually does take care of this place, they'll want their sign back. And if not.

They make their way back into the cave. The video was too dark to make out much, just the occasional flares from someone's flashlight. Then the muddy screen turned to shades of green and black. With the camcorder's night vision active, I could now clearly see Josh recording Noah with his phone in one hand and flashlight in the other. Noah, meanwhile, has his ear pressed against the wall of the tunnel.

His eyes shut. and brow furrowed in concentration. Dude, what are you... Noah holds up a finger to shush, Allie. Josh looks at the camera and gives an exaggerated shrug. Come on, someone else put your ear up to the wall. Tell me you don't hear that. Hear what, dork?

I'll do it. Maddie marches over to where Noah is listening. She pulls her long hair aside and presses an ear against the rough stone. After a short time, she turns and looks at Noah. Then at everyone else. Her eyes are huge and black on the screen. It sounds like a train. I fucking told you, man.

Noah jabs a finger at his brother. You can even feel it, right? Like a low rumble coming from somewhere. Ali crosses her arms. Seriously? You're just, you're both making this up. No, Alyssa, I hear it. I really can.

You try it, please? Fine. Allie huffs before placing her own head against the wall next to Maddie. She stands motionless for about half a minute, then pulls away, shaking her head. All I hear is maybe some wind, something dripping. Caves make weird noises sometimes, you know? Maybe there's another railroad not far from here. Sound can carry pretty far through the ground. None that are still operational. The closest one's still in use is at least 20 miles away. I certainly couldn't hear anything that sounded like a train, not surprising given the old TV's single speaker and the camcorder's terrible microphone.

What I did notice was that the picture seemed to be degrading as the video continued. This was to be expected as the tape was likely as old as the camcorder itself, but it was a rather interesting coincidence that the static had only started increasing right as Noah told everyone to be quiet. Maddie steps away from the tunnel wall, sharing an anxious look with Allie. Hey, Josh, some of us are getting some serious creepies from this place. The camera is trained on Josh's face, revealing a raised eyebrow. What I mean is that I want to get the fuck out of here. Josh looks around the group and gives a resigned sigh.

Okay, fine. We'll call it a day. A minute later, he can be seen packing up his camera gear, and Allie is already making for the tunnel entrance. Garrett jogs to catch up with her, the green and black screen flaring to nearly white, as even the heavily filtered sunlight overwhelms the sensor. They are nearly to the opening, when Josh calls out from behind them. Guys! Hey, guys! Get back here! Hey, stop! In the next instant, Garrett and the camera are running back into the tunnel, the video bouncing wildly.

Josh is still yelling, quickly joined by Ali and Noah. Once the jarring motion stopped and the night vision caught up, I could see that Garrett was now standing next to Josh. Noah is in front of them, just beginning to step into the dark pool that floods half the tunnel, and several yards in front of them is Maddie, walking slowly through the water. No, not through water. On it. Each footfall makes only the slightest ripple,

as if the pool is only millimeters deep. Noah, meanwhile, is nearly up to his waist. His waves catch up to Maddie, lapping at her ankles, though she doesn't seem to notice. She just continues onward, step after dry step. The camera abruptly switched back to normal color. It was dark, but as Garrett zoomed in, I could easily see Maddie silhouetted against the far opening of the tunnel.

The bright green sunlit forest just beyond. Josh and Ali continued to yell, their voices distorting. A low buzzing hum filled the listening room, the static still steadily increasing. Maddie had nearly reached the end of the tunnel, and so had Noah, now in dark water nearly to his armpits. He was nearly to her, shouting something unintelligible, as the screen became a smear of interference. I turned to look at Garrett, but he made no motion to stop the tape or indicate that it was over. Then the static and hum abruptly ceased. The video was crystal clear again, except now it showed Josh and Alley walking towards the tunnel entrance, talking excitedly.

Did you see those crystals I found? I got a good picture of them, I think. Josh looks back over his shoulder at Garrett and the camcorder. They were pyrite from iron ore deposits. There's a seam of blue clay back there. I wonder if that's why the tunnel looks unfinished. It might have made it too unstable. It lasted this long.

I'd love to know how deep that water is so we could go all the way to the end. Maybe I'll borrow my dad's fishing bibs and check it out sometime. Now I'm picturing you holding a trout and some mountain stream grinning like an idiot. Hey, I have a picture of that. For real, dad and I used to go trout fishing with Uncle Matt all the time back in the day. We should totally go fishing sometime. It's like bowling, but worse. The three exit the cave. Josh stops to pick up the sign, lifting it with some effort. I can't believe you found this.

Me either. I just saw the corner sticking out of the weeds over there. Josh unlocks the SUV and opens the back hatch. You got mud on your shoes. Please try to scrape it off before you get in. Mom would not be happy with me getting mud in her new Toyota. Okay. Hey, do you think we got time for me to record one more thing real quick? Wait, shit. This thing's almost dead. I had to charge it before it. The tape stopped.

We sat there in silence for a while, bathed in blue light from the television. Garrett stared down at the Sony camcorder in his lap, still tethered to the TV by its umbilical cord of cable. Okay, well, can you... Can you explain to me what just happened there? Garrett shook his head slowly, not looking up. So... Maddie and Noah heard something peculiar while you were all in the tunnel. And then when you went to leave, Maddie...

Well, she... She walked on water and then disappeared. Noah, too. Well, with the lighting conditions and the degradation, I can't be sure. Garrett shook his head. I leaned forward in my seat. Okay, I'm very confused. At the end of the video, I only see you, Alyssa, and Josh leaving the tunnel.

Maddie and Noah are completely gone, and yet none of you seem concerned about it. We weren't concerned about it. I shut my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose under my glasses. And also, you were initially driving a gray minivan. But when you left, you got into a white SUV. So how... Because we didn't drive there with Noah and Maddie. I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it again.

Seeing my confusion, Garrett continued. Noah and Maddie, they were in the video. Yes. But neither me, nor Josh, nor Allie. remembers them being with us that day. So what? They were somewhere else, like Noah was actually back at Josh's house the whole time? He wasn't at Josh's house because Josh doesn't have a brother.

I blinked. What? Josh doesn't have any siblings. And Ali's uncle doesn't have a daughter named Madison. None of us remember them being with us that day because neither of those two people exist. Never did. Then how... I don't know.

No, how! Garrett moaned, running both hands through his hair. He stood up, causing me to lean back in my chair reflexively. Josh borrowed his mom's SUV. She never had a van. And he, Allie and I, went to Hope Furnace and the Moonville Tunnel. We met a guy with the dog, and he told us about the Jehanna Tunnel. We went there, took some pictures, I shot some video, and we left.

That's what I remember. When I got home and I played back the video and there were strangers in it. Did you show this to Josh and Ali? Of course I did. They both thought it was a prank but they couldn't explain how I did it. Like, I don't have the skills to pull off something like that and I sure as heck don't know anyone or have the money to pay someone to insert two non-existent people into a high-ate tape and fake all of us interacting with them. do that? I don't know.

And Ali and Josh both took lots of pictures and video with our other cameras and phones. All of them show exactly what we remember, which was just the three of us. But why only your camera? How come it recorded them and not the others? The only thing I can figure is because it's analog, not digital. When I tried to upload the video to my computer, the file corrupted. I took to the visual media department here on campus to see if they could convert it but nothing.

Nothing they had would do it. Do me a favor and check your phone. I had completely forgotten about the iPhone recording video behind us. I opened the camera app and stopped the video, then played it back. It had captured Garrett and myself well despite the darkness of the room. However, the TV showed only a blank black screen. There was no audio at all. Garrett watched over my shoulder and nodded solemnly, then picked up the camcorder.

See? Whatever actually happened? The tape is the only proof I have, and I won't have it for long. He dropped heavily onto his chair. The first time I watched the video, there was almost no static, except a part where they disappear. The second time when I showed it to Allie, it was worse. It's gotten worse each time I've watched it. I do want to play one part of it for you again.

Just one more time, but that's it. Understand? I nodded slowly. Garrett removed a pair of headphones from a hook over the table. He plugged them into the camcorder, then rewound the tape for a few seconds. Just listen. I slid the headphones on. When the tape started playing again, Noah had just ended.

entered the water after Maddie. Buzzing filled my ears, causing me to recoil. But hearing it for the second time, I picked up a distinct rhythm. One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four, rising and falling in a pattern. There was also another sound, higher pitched, long, and drawn out. Kind of like a whistle. I strained to listen, pushing the cups of the headphones tighter. barely discernible through the hum and Ali and Josh's cries to Maddie,

I heard Noah's voice, so much like his brothers in tone, and I could just make out what he had been shouting to her right as they both vanished. Don't look at her, Maddie. Don't look at a light, Maddie. There was also something else I hadn't noticed before. Just as Maddie reached the end of the tunnel, for the briefest moment, There was a dark shape, a human shape so obvious that I'm not sure how I missed it the first time. And it was holding a light.

Then it was gone, along with Maddie and Noah, lost in the dancing flex of black and white, that would eventually consume the only hard evidence that any of them ever existed. I handed the headphones back to Garrett. I thought by now that I'd seen and heard enough through my research and my own own experiences that I wouldn't be surprised by anything. But this was... Hoo! I exhaled the breath I didn't realize I was holding. Garrett, I... I'm not sure what to say.

Except thank you for sharing this with me. I will do what I can to find out more. I stood up and turned the listening booth's lights back on. In the meantime, I suggest you put that too. tape somewhere safe. Maybe try putting it in something metal like a Faraday cage. Do you know what that is? He nodded and put the camcorder back into his bag. Ellie and Josh say they just want to forget about the tape and that I should just get rid of it. It's harder for me, though, for a lot of reasons. I gave him another handshake and told him to feel free to reach out to me if he had more

information. As he left the room, he stopped. Not to be. turning to look at me as he spoke. The part that bothers me the most about it? I just stood there and videoed them. I didn't try to stop them. After Garrett left, I packed my gear in a daze and dragged the TV cart back to the media equipment room. Back at home, I reviewed the video from my phone.

I tried a couple of different filters and programs, but the screen on the old Magnavox remained black. I did manage to pick up some of the. hum in the audio. However, it lacked the rhythmic quality I'd heard through the headphones. I spent a week scouring the interwebs, posting to several sites and forums, asking for any information. Strangely, all of my posts disappeared within a few hours or a few days of making them. I had no problem finding Sauter Road on any of the print or online map services I checked. but not a single one of them showed Jehena Hollow.

I easily found Josh and Alyssa on social media. No mention of Josh's brother, no Madison in Allie's family photos. I was about to move on when I found an image that I must have previously scrolled past. A photo on Josh's Instagram showing Allie petting a shaggy Leonberger, tagged with the caption, got to meet the famous at Good Boy Gunther 17 today. After following Gunther, I sent a PM to his owner. Andrew Jurgis, as expected, had nothing posted mentioning a trip to Jehanna Hollow. I informed Mr. Jurgis that I was investigating area railroad hauntings and folklore,

and that it was from him that Garrett had found out about the unknown tunnel. He responded that he remembered Garrett, but couldn't remember who'd, told him about the Jehanna Hollow. I asked if he had any more information. He said that unfortunately he did not. So I figured that was that. Then, a few days later, I received a PM with an image. I posted this a while back, but it got taken down for some reason, so I just took a new pick to show you. I have all these polaroids of a woman that I don't recognize. I just got the camera from a thrift store a few months ago, but these photos are already fading, bad. Maybe it was old stock.

I want to figure out who this person is. Also, check out the one in the upper right. What do you think is going on? In the image, there are several Polaroids lying on a desk. Each one is either Andrew by himself, Andrew with his dog, or they're devoid of people. There is no woman in any of them. The photo at the upper right shows what looks like a large cave in a heavily forested hillside. or perhaps, a tunnel.

I asked Andrew if he wouldn't mind mailing me the physical photographs so that I could study them for a short time. That was eight months ago, but I've never heard back from him. I've debated sharing this for a while, knowing that it's likely this account will disappear shortly after it's posted. During that time, the temptation to find out if there really is a second left off of Sauter Road, haunted me. But I moved on to other projects, other research. What finally led me to post this is what happened just a few days ago. That afternoon, I returned home to find a large package at my

front door. I had been expecting a delivery and thought nothing of it, though I was surprised at how heavy it was. I carefully opened it and removed something flat in bubble wrap, roughly the size of a piece of poster board. I checked the box. No post markings or shipping labels. Just a plain cardboard box. As I type this, it's leaning against the wall behind me, physical proof of a place that doesn't seem to exist.

Hell, I'm not even sure why the sign itself exists, but... Well, I don't make the rules. I wish I could share a picture of it. You can guess what happens. each time I've tried. For now, I will just ask that you take this story as truth, and to heed the advice,

gouged below the words, Jehanna Tunnel 1857. Don't follow them. As the train pulls into the terminal, we ask that you gather what's left of your sanity and depart the train. Thank you for traveling with us on the sleepless experience. 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 editorial team is Jessica McAvoy and Ashley McAnally. To discover how you can get even more sleepless horror stories from us, just visit sleepless. the no sleeppodcast.com to learn about the sleepless sanctuary. Add free extended episodes each week and lots of bonus content for the dark hours, all for only one low monthly price. On behalf of everyone at the No Sleep podcast, we thank you for traveling the rails with us for our 21st season.