#r/nosleep

[somesecretpie]

I am looking for a human host!

Are you bored?

Are you lonely and bored?

Do you have a lot of time on your hands?

Do you have hands?

I’m offering you a proposal, with potential financial compensation for your troubles. It may sound off putting at first blush, but hear me out. I am looking for a human host. And I mean a “willing” human host who might be willing to give up some of their time to help out an odd fellow that doesn’t have hands or blood.

Am I asking to control your body? Yes. Sometimes. You’ll still be there, but taking the backseat. Now you’re probably thinking “That sounds no fun! I don’t want to spend all my time riding shotgun.”

And that’s valid.

But you all spend about half of the day unconscious anyway. Your body is just there, doing nothing—a complete waste. As for me, I don’t sleep (haha), so we could have it so that during the day, I will graciously let you do fun human things, and at night, I’ll do whatever. And by whatever, I mean perfectly safe, perfectly reasonable activities.

I don’t drink, and I rarely go outside.

I enjoy baking, I look at pictures of birds online, I’ve been getting into neuroscience lately. Very interesting stuff. You’re all very interesting.

And maybe you’re still thinking “Hey now, I don’t want some random mind-controlling thingy hauling my body around in my sleep, “Weekend at Bernie’s Style” to which I say, you’re no fun and you’re not the kind of person I want to live with anyway.

“But I’m a light sleeper!” you say.

Don’t worry! I can isolate your somatosensory cortex so you can’t feel anything.

“But my family will think it’s weird!” you say.

Don’t worry! You don’t have to tell them.

Actually, I would prefer that you don’t tell anyone. Please.

And should anyone question me, I’m not bad at impressions. I’ll get really good at a “you” impression, it’ll be the first thing I do!

I know this all sounds very strange and potentially unpleasant, but remember the financial compensation that may or may not be happening. Hell, I’ll even do some of your chores if you like, while you sleep. You can wake up and the dishes will be done, laundry folded and coffee made. Doesn’t that sound nice? And then you open the fridge and oh, what’s this? Someone baked banana bread last night (that was me, I baked banana bread last night.)

Now I should say, I don’t have a lot of standards, I really don’t. But I do (unfortunately) have some, so let’s just get them out of the way before I waste your time.

Please do not contact me if you have any of the following:

- Anemia: Sorry, it’s just not going to work out. I can pay for iron supplements, but I can’t work miracles.

-A weak immune system: I don’t like getting sick, I’m sorry. It’s gross, sick people are gross. I mean I know it’s not your fault, but healthy folks only please.

-A strong immune system: Yes, I know what I just said, but I also don’t want to be attacked by your immune system. So maybe you’re not the picture of health, but you’re just kind of okay. I’m looking for someone who is just kind of okay.

-A penchant for alcohol: It makes me feel strange…

-A name that starts with a P: I’m not the greatest at “speaking.” It’s hard, moving air through your throat and moving your tongue and your mouth at the same time. You all do it so easy—can’t say I’m not envious! I’m the worst at making the “P” sound.

I intentionally avoid any "p word" in conversation, and get by well enough, but I’ll look pretty foolish if I’m cavorting about, pretending to be you, and I can’t even say your name!

Those are my standards, but really, other than that, I’ll take anyone.

I don’t care if you’re male or female or anything in between.

I don’t care if you’re gay.

I don’t care if you’re smart.

I don’t care if you don’t have a lawyer.

There are so many things that I don’t care about.

Now, I’ve specified all the ways in which I could compensate you and how our relationship will be not in any way problematic, but I want to stress that, above all things, I am looking for a friend.

Someone I can spend quiet evenings with.

If you want to hang out with me during the day, that’s great! I can give you fun hallucinations. Or you could have hallucinations the normal way, like by reading, like what you’re doing now. I love to read! I love doing funny voices. I wonder what you think I sound like?

I hope I sound nice.

And one of the best things about me is I’m very quiet. No one else will be able to hear me except you. I’ll be like your own personal friend that only you know. Like a secret friend. And you don’t even have to talk to me because I can read your thoughts.

I suppose I should tell you a bit more about myself, since you’re still reading.

I was born in the Everglades, I think. It’s been awhile.

But I remember being so cold…

And so alone...

But then I met this sweaty man in a colorful tee-shirt, with a camera, and half a granola bar, and with blood so hot.

So yeah, he was my first host, and I’ll admit, we weren’t the best of friends. It was a confusing time for both of us. I was confused. He was confused. What happened was really both of our faults, you could say…

He was a bird watcher, if I recall correctly. Just watched birds all the time. I thought it might have been out of jealousy—watching those little things flying around makes you feel kind of stuck. I felt stuck.

So I decided to be a bird for a while to see if it was really all it’s cracked up to be. Squished myself into the body of this lovely American crow. We settled down, built a nest, and laid several nice, healthy eggs with a man-bird by the name of “Richard Baxter.”

He was a very proud bird, very large. And he gave me so many wonderful gifts. Like children, and also small pieces of plastic.

I still have all of them.

The plastic, not the children.

I’d never been so happy, all these hormones had me consumed in the joy of motherhood, but the crow’s health was failing. I could not sustain myself—it’s pathetic little heart beat weaker and weaker.

I tried starving, I tried everything I could, I wanted to be a bird so bad. But it just wasn’t working out.

The bird stopped working.

The other crows held a funeral service for me, even though I was still alive. I tried to tell them, but I’m not good at speaking, you remember.

It was all just a big mess.

I haven't seen Baxter since, but I still think about him a lot.

Is that weird?

I’m totally over it though, haha.

After that incident, I got kind of depressed... I possessed a lot of trash animals—gulls, racoons, and salespeople. I did what I could to survive. That’s kind of where I am now.

I am currently living in Miami florida—been body surfing almost every day (haha). Right now I’m using a library computer and a librarian. She does not like being possessed, boy howdy are these fingers twitching. But you can thank her for my halfway decent grammar.

I’m tired of feeling like a parasite.

I want to try a different approach.

I want to be friends? Like with Richard Baxter except I also live in your brain and drink your blood sometimes. But I’ll make you bread in your sleep, so it’s okay.

It’s been really hard finding someone willing to put up with me.

I’ve tried everything.

So I thought I would put up an advertisement online, why not?

Can’t say the P word in real life, but you can hear it in your head loud enough I hope.

I know I kept saying that I would compensate you financially, but I’m going to be real with you, I don’t have much. I’ve got like twenty bucks, some small pieces of plastic and a book about...finance....

But I’m a real hoot! ;D

So,

(P)lease,

If you are interested, leave your comments below. I would love to get to know you :)

I need to go now, the library is closing soon, but I’ll get back as soon as I can.

[peoplegettingreallymadatghosts]

Some of these might be good for all I know but let’s be real

There’s no way the stories on r/nosleep can compare to their fucking titles

These are somewhere between shitty isekai anime names and ancient horror schlock films made on a budget of five dollars

[texas-chainsaw-massacre-ii-1986]

HEY

THE AUTHOR OF SEARCH AND RESCUE WOODS POSTED HER UNPUBLISHED MANUSCRIPT TO THE r/STAIRSINTHEWOODS SUBREDDIT

This is FUCKING huge because something a lot of people aren’t aware of is there was supposed to be a SAR book. Unfortunately, syfy forced the author to give up adaptation rights in order to make the butcher’s block season of Channel Zero, so it never got published.

So now, she’s released it for everyone!

READ IT HERE

[themultiversetheory-x]

Why did we, as a society, shift from creepypasta to true crime?

[cornodium]

[fabdante]

in this one the part where i spent months blanking on what to do for a background has been shortened

art only blog - insta - inprnt - redbubble

[mattapparentlystumbltourneys]

Giraffe Girumble - Last Chance Preliminary 1

Propaganda below (May contain spoilers!)

Giraffe (r/nosleep) propaganda:

It almost eats someone and the description is suspiciously detailed to a comical level. I originally found it on tumblr in youtube embed form https://youtu.be/kF9yqfpl904?si=7SpPRvViLYjwI83

Boo's Giraffe Height Chart propaganda:

THE SUCKER IS A SENTIENT, ROBOTIC BEING AND QUITE POSSIBLY A GOVERNMENT DRONE COLLECTING INTEL ON THE MONSTER WORLD. In less than a handful of seconds in the film it vanishes between shots, then reappears, repositions itself. Someone had to rent an entire theatre out just to see that the giraffe can be seen *rolling it’s way to the front of the corporation* and hidden in the furthest corners of the DVD, is a single animation of the height chart LEAVING THROUGH THE DOOR ON ITS OWN. The John Zegrus of Giraffes— call it Giraffe from Taured, I don’t know. The truth has been there all along, in the shadows, where it laughed and laughed as it rolled out of sight.

Chirinmon propaganda:

So they're a Qilin (or Kirin since it's from a Japanese franchise) but you did say Qilin are allowed. Tyilinmon (Chirinmon's japanese name) are holy beast digimon and are said to be peaceful and deeply compassionate, but will still fight those who they deem evil and kill senselessly.

Abigail propaganda:

Watched the movie back in December and she was the first one who came to mind :P. She very kindly allowed Willy and Noodle to collect some very important giraffe milk from her, resulting in giraffe macaroons (no giraffes harmed) which helped get the chocolate-selling business off the ground. She also later got liberated from the zoo and let loose in a church full of chocolate-obessed monks and i forget exactly why they did that but i know it was helpful for the others. Very important and necessary character and we love her

Kipekee propaganda:

It's a spotless giraffe which is very cool and p rare. I still think it should've been named vibrant beige tho. :)

Melissa and Doug Giraffe propaganda:

A real children’s baby giraffe plush that was inexplicably used as set dressing for a nursery in the fairytale world in the pilot of OUAT. Basically, a multiverse-traveling 4-foot-tall giraffe stuffed animal.

(I'm sorry, original submitter, but I could not find the pilot in time for this)

Jemmy/Jeremiah did not receive propaganda. :l

[artisticfurby]

please give me more r/nosleep stories to read

im tired of fixating on only one of them that i even feel bad making fanart of

[sparkles-and-trash]

I finally started listening to the Borrasca podcast that Cole Sprouce produced, and man oh man

I am not ready to relive this story, but at the same time I really have to hold myself back from binging it??

I’m trying to only listen to it when I’m out on walks, and I just freaked my self the fuck out walking alone listening to it in the dark lmaoo

[etphonemom]

I'm Never Going to Summer Camp Again

TW in tags

Last school year we had a new kid, let's call her Tiffany or Tiff for short. She definitely reeked of R & R (Rich 'Rents) which made sense because I go to a private school on scholarship. Any who, we became friends pretty fast. She hated the other kids in our grade, especially because they tried to suck up to her the second she walked into class. Apparently, she was draped in the best designer, some before they were released to the public. Everyone wanted to be her friend and there were rumors her parents were celebrities or something.

Tiff transferred in near the end of the school year which was odd and she never explained to me why. I didn't care too much if I'm being honest. She invited me over for dinner one night and I was excited because she told me all about her dogs and cats! It was a fun night of cuddles, pets and the most delicious pizza I have ever had the honor of eating. They make it in their yard on a grill/smoker whatever. It held all of the finest ingredients and danced in my mouth all the way down to my stuffed belly.

Her parents asked her if she was excited for summer camp and she shrugged, leaning her head on her hand, "I thought it'd be cool if I could stay here with Bella for the summer..."

They looked at each other and sighed. Simultaneously they perked up and faced us, you could almost see the image of a lightbulb hovering above their heads. "Why doesn't Bella go with you? Wouldn't that be fun?"

She sits up straight and asks me, "Would you want to? Would your mom let you?"

I look down at my lap and fiddle with my fingers, "I don't think we could afford it. I'm sorry."

I never was a clingy person, nor did I care about having friends or not, but I suddenly felt a wave of separation anxiety at the thought of not seeing Tiff during the summer. I hope she wouldn't find a new best friend and forget all about me next year, or worse; transfer schools again.

I flinch when her parents laugh together. Her Mom cradling a glass of wine with her other hand over her chest, "Oh nonsense! If your Mom is okay with it then we wouldn't mind taking care of that for you!"

I perk up, but sink back down after thinking about it for a moment, "My Mom would never accept that... She hates when people try to help us with money."

Her Mom does that thing people do when they are reacting to something they think is sweet and pitiful, making her look like one of those fish with upside down looking mouths. Tiff's Dad speaks up, "Well, we do get a discount now that Layla works there! We can talk to her ourselves if you'd like!"

I turn my head to the side and Tiff understood my confusion, "Layla's my big sister. She's a camp counselor there, but she's totally lame now."

We giggle and her Mom rolls her eyes then playfully back hands her Dad on his shoulder when he begins to chuckle too. "Well that settles it! We can talk to your Mom when we drop you off later!"

I was surprised when my Mom said yes, but I didn't dare question it either. Camp was supposed to start a week after the school year but I was packed way before then. When her parents come to pick me up, my Mom ran through the long list of things I already triple checked that I packed. We gave each other a tight, long hug. This is the first time I have ever been away from home for longer than a night, let alone three hours away from each other. I'm not one who normally gets nervous, but this is new for me. I'm so used to being able to run to my Mom whenever I was in trouble or worried about something. What if I hated camp? I couldn't immediately go back home even if I wanted to! I mean, I know if it was an emergency she would drop everything and find a way to come and get me. The good thing is Tiff's parents said they have great cell phone reception so if I'm feeling homesick I can call her whenever I want.

When we arrived at camp, all of my anxieties fell away. It was beautiful! There were 100 kids of different ages gathered in an organized crowd and a straight line of 12 adults, one being Layla who was pointed out by Tiff.

There were 10 cabins, a mess hall, a lake, and a huge boathouse all that surround the gorgeous center of the campgrounds. It reminds me of the quads I would see on my college visits, but less artificial.

The grass was mowed recently, but was left with a couple of inches which complimented the bushes, trees and flowers in bloom. There were a few boulders that one could easily climb and sit on with a friend, and there was one in particular that stood out amongst the rest. I don't even know if it qualifies as a boulder, or if you would call it a mini cliff. It was in the shape of an upside down scalene triangle. It doesn't look naturally shaped that way, but it feels as if it has existed here longer than anything else.

When I would inch closer to it, an eerie feeling crawled along my arms and spine giving me goosebumps. I didn't think too much of it at first, but I always fastened my pace whenever I walked by it.

Towards the end of our time at camp, we were getting ready to have a final celebration. There was going to be a performance given by each cabin; some dance numbers, singing and one cabin even wrote their own little play to perform. I didn't want to leave! Everyone was so nice and fun, we did all sorts of cool things but I knew I'd be back one day. Hell, this made me want to become being a camp counselor. That was until, the day of the performances. The last day at camp.

I found out that we would be performing under the creepy boulder, as an odd stage of sorts. I thought maybe since the boulder slanted up at an angle it helped block the sun or something. When I asked why, nobody knew. Tiff said it's just what they always have done.

The counselors laid out a bunch of picnic blankets for us to sit on, separating us by cabins and organizing it in order of performance. There were two rows, and each group would get up starting from the first set of blankets on the left to the right.

The energy was off somehow, I couldn't figure out why. I couldn't enjoy myself through the performances, I faked my applause and smile. My heart rate spiked a bit more after every performance. Ours was the last to go on; our cabin had been practicing a dance but I was awfully embarrassed to dance in front of a crowd, so I exaggerated how bad my period cramps were so they wouldn't force me to participate.

When our cabin was done, a woman took the 'stage' and her booming but melodic voice slid into my ears, temporarily drowning out the uneasiness that has grown in the pit of my stomach. At first, I assumed she was a camp counselor but the longer I looked at her I couldn't place her at all in my memories.

"Wow those were some amazing and creative performances! Let's give it up for each other and ourselves! Now, the moment we all have been waiting for! A tradition we have been maintaining for almost 170 years! The Treasure Hunt!"

Everyone around me cheered and I gave Tiff a confused look, but she just kept staring straight ahead. I gently nudged her with my elbow and she didn't budge. I thought it was weird but brushed it off as her trying not to be rude while the lady was talking... which in hindsight, was a first.

"Now you all know the rules and you all know the stakes! All around the campgrounds are 111 hidden bars of gold! You will have to look high and low, sometimes even deep! Whoever takes one will get to bring it home with them and whoever doesn't..... welll let's hope that isn't you!"

She laughs and everyone joins her, but all of their laughs are the same... and every single one of them is laughing, at the same exact intervals. The monotone choir filling me with apprehension towards this treasure hunt. I nudge Tiff again and she doesn't budge, just continues to laugh. I wave my hand in front of her face and nothing! I wish I ran as far as I could, but I didn't know then what I know now.

"Alright Campers! On my count! 10!"

I jump as the choir shouts in unison,

"9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1! TAKE IT ALL!"

Within milliseconds everyone, including the counselors, collectively shoots up and runs in every single direction. I'm glued to the ground and am frozen in shock at the events that follow.

Maybe a dozen kids stay close by and dig into the ground with their arms, eyes expressionless but the rest of their face is scrunched as they ferociously heave dirt out with occasional grunts. My eyebrows arch in confusion and concern, some of them are digging so fast they constantly fling dirt in their own face and yet they remain unfazed. Focused.

I look back at the 'stage' and the lady is still there, standing in the same exact spot, unbothered. She halfheartedly observes with a neutral expression on her face.

I finally gain the strength to stand, and I turn around and see a few kids had climbed on top of the cabins. One of them is jumping up and down, holding what I assumed is one of the 'gold bars'. In what felt like slow motion, I reached my hand forward and yelled "WATCH OUT" as I am forced to observe only the first act of viciousness of the afternoon. Behind him a girl shoves her shoulder hard into his back and he stumbles close to the ledge. The gold bar falls from his hands and something compels me towards it.

Without realizing, I am sprinting in the direction of the cabin and I pick up the bar. Once it's in my hands, time stops for a moment. It's not warm or cool. The texture is like flour, but when I remove one hand, there is no dust, powder or excess of any kind on my fingers. It's a single solid piece of gold.

My worry snaps me out of the time trap when I feel a hard thump echo in the ground below me. I slowly turn and see the boy laying on the ground, groaning in pain. It wasn't a deadly fall, but he definitely broke his ankle. He's laying on his stomach and his foot has twisted in a 180 motion as the toe of his shoe points at the sky.

All of a sudden, I feel it. I feel the collective hunger within me; it's not greed... no it's, it's like an urgency. I don't want to hold this bar... I need to. The girl jumps off of the roof, rolls on the ground into an upright position and stares through me. I hold the bar like a football in my left arm, and I hold up my right arm in front of me, bending 90 degrees at the elbow horizontally as I slam the side of my forearm into her neck. She gasps and steps to the side holding where I took her breath. I run without giving her a second thought.

I run towards the boulder. There are maybe 20 kids sitting down, scattered amongst the blankets. Once I reach my cabin's blanket, I recognize the familiarity of the current seating arrangement. Everyone is sitting back to where they originally were seated, some of them with dirt stuck to their arms and faces. Some with random cuts and developing knots. Out of instinct I didn't have before, I lift up my legs in a half jump and land hard on my ass. It hurts, but the anxiousness has completely disappeared.

I look around back to the grass and there are only a few kids still digging and two kids wrestling over a bar. Wait, no. One of them is a counselor. They both end up back on their feet and in one swift motion she kicks the kid square in his chest. When he falls backwards, she scoops the bar and sprints back to her cabin's blanket.

I glance back to the kid and watch him start to dig another hole, until a bar soars through the air landing in front of him. Unflinchingly, he immediately grabs it and zips over to his cabin's blanket. I look in the direction of which the bar came from and there are a few kids who have now separated, continuing the search for a gold bar.

A sense of calm has taken over my mind and body, I don't even register Tiff sitting back down next to me. She doesn't acknowledge me and faces forwards towards the 'stage'.

Kids and counselors zoom in sporadically until almost everyone is back in their seat. Out of the corner of my eye I see a woman limping towards us. It's Layla. I thought she might've broken her foot, but there is a kid clinging to her leg. She's clutching the bar tight and every few steps tries to shake him off but he won't budge. Once she gets close enough that I think she's going to make it, he opens his mouth wide and chomps deeply into the side of her calf. Her blood cloaks his braces, lips, chin and runs down to her foot. He lets go once she drops the bar out of pain. He snatches it up and races to his spot, not even bothering to wipe the blood off his mouth.

The lady on the stage bellows an apology,

"I'm sorry, but that was the last gold bar. Congratulations to everyone that has successfully taken one! You should be very proud of yourselves! As for you, Layla is it? I'm afraid we can't help you... you will be missed."

My fear roars back into my stomach. What the fuck is she talking about. Layla collapses onto her knees, sobbing. The lady gives us a final statement,

"Alrighty, well I'm afraid that's the end of today's festivities! Thank you for sharing some of your lovely summer with us, we hope to see you again next year! Grab your bags from your cabins and make your way towards the parking lot, your families are waiting for you there. Take care now!"

Tiff snaps back to life and looks at me, smiling,

"Did you like it here? I know it's kind of lame and childish, but I had a lot more fun since you came along!"

My jaw drops and I am too stunned to speak, all I can muster is the smallest of nods. She gives me a confused look with a small smile. She giggles and pulls me into a side hug,

"Thank you for making me feel like I am not alone. You're my best friend."

My bottom lip becomes dry because I lost all function in my face, I gain enough strength to squeak out,

"Uh huh."

She let's go of me and runs to the cabin. I reluctantly follow after her and we walk to the parking lot in silence. When we get there we see her parents are already there and they're talking to Layla. At once, they hug her tightly and ignore the bleeding on her leg. Her mom opens her eyes, pulls back and grins at us when we walk up,

"Hey girls! How was camp?"

Before she can reply, Layla walks away like a zombie back to camp. Tiff rolls her eyes and hides a smile,

"I guess it was good, thank you for letting me bring Bella!"

"Of course! We love Bella! I'm glad you two had a good time! Hey Bella, did she tell you this is where her father and I met?!"

"Ughh Mom, I don't want to hear this again!"

"What? I just wanted to tell Bella the story, she hadn't heard it yet! C'mon now it's a funny story!"

Tiff grunts, rolls her eyes and grabs my bag. Her Dad then steps forward and grabs our stuff and throws it into the already open trunk. He slams it shut, places his hands on his hips and smiles. He arches his back, reaches one arm over his head towards the opposite side and then after a few seconds he repeats with the opposite arm.

"Alright my fair ladies, let's get this long road trip moving! Bella, I know your Mom misses you a ton, let's get you back A S A P!"

Layla walks back by us with a bag towards what I assume is her car. She opens the door and carelessly tosses her bag in.

Tiff covers her eyes with her hands,

"God Dad, you're so embarrassing! Let's go."

She moves to the car, but I can't take my eyes off of Layla. I can't shake off everything that has just happened. Why the fuck are they all acting so casual? Layla opens the driver's door and slides in. She turns on the car, resting her hands on the wheel and stares through the window.

"Bella, you coming?"

After a few seconds, I walk to the opposite side of the car and hop in without saying a word. Her Dad turns on the radio and starts singing along to a song he clearly doesn't know the words to, making her Mom laugh and clap. He reverses slowly then gears into drive. He starts to turn but before he can move forward, Layla's car screeches and cuts in front of us. She swerves to the right and maybe 100 feet later she crashes into a tree.

I can't blink, I can't breathe, I have loss control of my regular bodily functions. The only relief I get is the thought of her parents finally addressing whatever the fuck this is! But, to my dismay, they continue to sing along to the radio and drive carefully unperturbed.

As we drive by, I stare at Layla's destroyed vehicle. Her head crashed through the front window, colliding with the tree. The glass shards sticking out of her sides, bleeding profusely. She twitches a few times, and I can't take my eyes off of her. I turn and look through the back window and watch her go limp. Her Dad turns up the radio even louder.

(below is the ending I added to fit r/nosleep's guidelines)

When I got home I collapsed into my mom's arms crying and I tried to tell her what happened. She called Tiff's parents and they said that Tiff was an only child, there is no Layla and insisted I was sleep deprived because I was homesick. We looked it up online and there were no results for the suicide, a car crash at a camp or a Treasure Hunt tradition at the camp.

I know what I saw was real, I know Layla was real. My mom believes me but didn't believe the story. She was confused when I pointed out the discount her parents said they had because Layla worked there and she looked at me concerned,

"What discount? They told me parents donate money so there are a few beds dedicated for kids who normally wouldn't be able to attend."

Still, doubt creeps into my mind sometimes but I know what happened. I will never ever go to a summer camp again. Tiff tried to call me a few times but I didn't pick up. When the school year started she wasn't there. I still don't know if that's a good or bad thing and it keeps me up at night even now.

Thank you for reading ! Hope you enjoyed ! If you want to support my writing you can buy me a human beverage ! Find me on my reddit for more short stories or my response to writing prompts on this page !

Stay unidentified & friendly 👽🖖 ~ E.T.

[missylanieous]

I don't wanna do this too often, but I wanted to share a video I made for Kalbus! Zen is teaching me how to edit videos and I've been utilizing it and came up with an experiment for the channel ^_^ slightly ASMR narrative reading of semi horror-y stories!

I'm kinda proud of this one, both in narration and editing

[peoplegettingreallymadatghosts]

Okay we might be on to something with this one

[sarkomeru]

The Pancake Family memes part 1

[fr00t-snacc]

I’ve barely seen any art for the story about “Patti Pepperoni’s Playhouse,” on the nosleep subreddit, so I decided to try and contribute! This story is by u/disco-dingus, and I had lots of fun drawing Patti based off the description that was given! And it’s even featuring a little Jason Voorhees doll, since today is ALSO Friday the 13th! Have a nice Friday, everybody

[luccettis]

i wrote a story on r/nosleep. please read.

link here!

[kats-chaotic-wonderland]

The tiny town of Merin Falls [Part 1]

(this is repost of my original reddit story so it's still structured for reddit. TW: mentions of blood, violence, gore, assault, and stalking. Nothing too graphic, but this is the set up for a horror story.)

Today had been a pretty slow day, so when I eventually found myself on Reddit, I whittled away my shift by reading through some of the posts in this particular sub. As I was on some post, about fifteen stories in, my coworker pointed out that some of the stuff we've seen would probably be interesting for some of you here. He suggested that I put a few of the more...bizarre? Creepy? I guess horrific? Stories about weird shit that happens in our small new England town.

So, as I'm sure you've heard before, I'll start by saying I live in a small town. It's settled in the northeast, a ways up from the Bridgewater triangle, and on the hill above a small bay. It's old, and has a history of witch trials and war battles. If you've ever seen a horror or Hallmark movie you've seen a town just like it. From calm summers to colorful falls, with old Victorian homes settled in old neighborhoods, complete with soccer moms and honor roll kids. This place is chock full of the American dream.

For context, we're small for this area. Like really small. One school, town square, a few neighborhoods, some mom and pop shops. We have a few docks down at the bay, but nothing bigger than a small motor boat. We do have one guy who lives on his boat, but it's a single room ship. Officially our population is about 1000-1500 on a good year. Unofficially, we stand about 2000 consistently. We'll talk about why at a different time, for now I just wanted to put it in your mind how small we're actually talking.

This place looks and operates like a normal New England town on the surface. Of course, I wouldn't be here if it actually did. There's a lot wrong with this tiny town of Merin Falls.

I spent a while today rolling around in my brain for what story really works for a start. See, we get a lot of weird, dangerous, unexplainable stuff out here. But starting off with true horror is a bit of a challenge. After six years, and for some other reasons, I’ve become a bit numb to some of what happens here. Not all, but some, and the ones that stick with me really aren’t something I want to dredge up just yet. But after some thought, I settled on one that I think will serve as a good look into what living here is like.

The day in question was a pretty typical day, maybe four or so years ago? I had gone into work, had a total of four customers. I remember because Iian still has a polaroid of each one tucked away and dated in his portfolio. This is one reason I started to hang around with him, his need to take way too many photos means I have easy access to memory triggers. But we’ll talk about that on a different day. For now all that matters is I had four customers. Holly Baker, came in the early hours right at open, she bought three binders, a sharpie, and a roll of yellow duct tape. I rang her up with no issue, my coworker Iian took her photo as she was checking out. She left and we were dead until around four o’clock. That was when Mrs. Miller came in with her rat dog and her spineless husband.

Mrs. Silvia Miller, is a rather irritating thorn in my side. From my first day working here she’s come in at least once a week in order to make snide comments about my appearance or moral choices, and make laughably bad attempts to return items she never purchased. She’s every retail worker's nightmare. (And no, unfortunately this is not the story about her being a horrible monster) Her antics have gotten so bad over the past six years that we have rules specifically for her. I’ll explain them in more detail in a later post, but she’s not allowed to shop when it’s just me on shift. We do not accept returns from her. Ever. And all of her receipts have a stamp that says “Non returnable. All sales are final.” These rules extend to her husband, a short stumpy man who looks like a frog next to his witch of a wife. As well as her kids, on the off chance they take the time to visit the old crone.

I remember this interaction clear as day, without the need for a trigger. Silvia had come in ranting and raising holy hell about some folders she had purchased from Arthur, on a day when I wasn't working. I listened to her diatribe as she gestured rapidly with her free hand, her faux pearl bracelet looking like it was going to snap off her knobby wrist. After five or so minutes I just stopped her, took her receipt, and pointed at the massive hot pink stamp that was glowing in the black light. With a look that I can only describe as, complete and utter entitled bitch bafflement, the look a Karen gets when the manager doesn't give them free stuff. She turned up her crooked hooked nose and snatched the receipt. Then she turned on her heels, a cheap pair from the thrift shop, of which she had painted the soles red with what I can only assume was cheap spray paint. Then with the fury of a western wind, headed for the door in a huff. Her shaking bug eyed rat and amphibious husband in tow. The former clutched in her cheaply manicured claws, and the latter being dragged by the scruff of his threadbare suit. The Millers are what you would call high class white trash.

The third customer was a guy I can't remember, but since Iian has a photo with the same date, I'm gonna assume he was there. From the photo, I can see he was an inch or so taller than me, gaunt face with some dark stubble, thin lanky limbs, and curly dark hair down to his shoulders. He was wearing some casual shorts and a tee shirt, and….round Ozzy Osbourne sunglasses indoors….for some reason. What strikes me as off on this one, is we have a lot of photos of him, but Iian doesn't remember ever taking them. And, for my weird memory issues, I can't bring up a single image of him in my mind if I'm not looking at a photo. It's like he just blinks from existence when we look away. There's a lot of photos of him actually….I wonder if he’s a regular? I’ll check the cameras for him at some point.

The last customer came in just before close. I call her Thelma, but I don’t actually know her name. She’s not local, but she is a regular. For whatever reason she drives out to this podunk to buy her music sheets from us. Thelma is always dressed in a similar outfit, just different colors and patterns. Always a top with 3/4 sleeves, a skirt that fits her closely but not tight that ends at the ankle in a ruffle. Sunglasses, sometimes she keeps them on. And her wiry gray hair is always up in some clip ponytail, updo thing. The top is always solid or stripes, and the skirt is always some kind of floral. Her shoes are either sandals, heels, flats, or sneakers. I wish I had more to say about her, but she never says much. Just comes in, wordlessly gets her blank sheets, checks out, pays cash, and bails. She did the same thing that day. Not a word more than needed, sunglasses on the whole time. Have I mentioned my store is lit up mostly by black lights? Yeah she makes no sense to me. But she doesn’t cause problems so I like her well enough. After Thelma left Iian and I cleaned up, locked up, and he headed home. We waved as I was taking my key from the door. We go in opposite directions, save for the off day when he walks my way with me so he can stay with Ryan for the night. That night was not one of those nights.

So there I was walking alone. It was a warm night and I was in a pretty good mood after everything that day. I’d made it a good six blocks when a car pulled up next to me. They rolled up real slow and kept pace with me. I didn’t give them any attention. Instead the hand on my opposite side was reaching for the knife I keep on my belt. I have a few on me at all times, I lived on the road for a while before I landed here. You figure out a lot about how to keep yourself safe in places like truck stops and roach motels. My knives won't save me from a bullet, learned that the hard way. But guns are rare in this area, instead kidnapping and other person on person crime is higher. But when they rolled their window down and I heard a whistle, my eyes just rolled.

Travis Heartly was the star of the football team back when he was in high school, now he was a community college drop out who could not understand the word no. Or fuck off. Or I will stab you and not feel bad in the slightest. He’d taken a liking to me just a few weeks after I had moved to Merin Falls. Unfortunately for him, I had sworn off guys. Not love, just guys. After getting abused three times in a row, I realized that me and guys romantically just don’t work. Travis didn’t get the memo apparently. He would come into my shop, near daily, and ask me out. Waste my time with his small town bragging. Act like a general Neanderthal. When Luther finally had enough and banned him from the store, he just started waiting outside for me to leave. Wait in my favorite coffee shop, bar, library, you name it he stalked it. His car was an old beat up sedan his mom gave him. He cleared out the back and put a bed in there. Needless to say that didn’t help his case when he busted into the shop excited to show me his new ride.

This car he was in however, was a rather nice Lexus. He was still beside me, calling out for my attention. I of course would not be giving him any. So he opted instead to move up the block and park right in the next street I needed to cross. Because of this move, the idiot gave me enough time to pull my larger blade from my boot. It's a good three inches longer than the belt knife, and an inch broader. See, my boots are clunky steel toed work boots. I don’t really need them, but old habits die hard, and hold big knives. I stopped a few yards away as he got out. We were close in age, though he had a good two years on me, but I had about six inches on him so I guess we're even. Still, after his flunk out, he’d taken up booze and dropped his work out. So his once toned body was slowly fading into the start of a beer belly and unkempt stubble.

He closed the door and leaned against the car,”Hey! How was work?”

“Leave me alone Travis.”

His expression dropped,”Come on, what did I do? Was it the roses? Look I just thought maybe-”

“Oi.” I cut him off, ”Shove it. I’m not interested. Now beat it.”

“Come on Am.” his voice was pitiful. He had his choice of girls when I moved here. He was pretty, young, fit, and locally famous. But when he clung to the freaky new girl, they all moved on after a year or so. A fair amount of his classmates were hooked up with someone new. Iian liked to gossip about his school a lot at work. In a small place like this most of the kids never really leave. But, his problems weren’t my issue.

“Move.” I ordered

He was looking at me like I’d just kicked a puppy.

“Fine.” I started to cross to the far side of the street. He panicked and ran toward me, closing the distance in a moment as he grabbed my upper arm. He'd learned not to try and grab my forearm. I always hold my knives down, with the bunt to my arm, blade out. In the event I need to block, or get grabbed from behind it's quicker to defend myself. Think Rambo or Hunter from the bad batch. Say whatever you want, but it's saved me more times than I want to admit.

“Wait!” he pleaded,”Please just one chance! I promise, I can-”

I ripped my arm away and rounded around with my free hand. The fist collided with his nose, I felt a crunch and heard a bone snap. Travis stumbled back and grabbed his now gushing nose. Tears welled and fell in rivulets as he looked at me in shock.

“I told you not to fucking touch me.” I spat and stepped back several feet. I kept my eyes locked on him and my guard up,”Try that shit again and I’ll do worse than break your nose. When a woman tells you no for two straight years, believe me she is not going to change her mind dumbass.”

He just looked at me, tears and blood running down his face. I’d always told him no. No maybes, no waffling. Always a direct no. And I’d put up with his stalking, but he’d never touched me before. This time he crossed a line he hadn’t realized was there. The look in his eyes was either rage, or passion. And I really didn’t want to know which. He’s the kind of guy who wants a woman to ruin his life. I guess he thought I would fit that bill.

He was right, but not in the way he wanted.

This standoff lasted for maybe a minute before headlights came slowly up behind us. Travis made the connection before I did. He saw the red and blues and bailed off into his Lexus. I watched him peel out from where he had been. I didn’t move until officer Lison parked and stepped out of his car. I lowered my knife and slid it into my boot as he walked over to me.

“Amber? Was that Travis I just saw?” he asked, he sipped on his coffee, getting a few drops caught in the edge of his salt and pepper mustache.

I turned and rubbed my hand, it was bruising from where I had punched him,”Yeah. He tried to grab me when I went to walk away this time.”

“Shit.” Lison chuffed with a bushy browed scowl,”What an ass.”

His reaction was so flippant, I just...I busted out laughing,”That’s all you got Boris?”

“What?” he asked confused,”He is. Plus he’s getting thrown in lock up tomorrow anyway.”

This made my laughter stop, it was my turn to be confused,”What did he do now?”

Another sip of his coffee,”Grand theft auto.” he shrugged,”Lexus was stolen from a lot east of town. That's why I stopped.”

“You’re kidding.” I asked slack jawed.

“Nope. I don’t think he even realized he was on camera.”

“So what? He just took it in hopes of a date night?”

“Looks like it if he was here for you. He’s a desperate man.” he shook his head,”Wanna lift home?”

I thought about it for a second,”Sure. Thanks Boris.”

We hopped in his cruiser, and made light conversation for a few blocks. Three blocks from my house though, a call came over the radio. Some mix of cop lingo and garbled static that I couldn't really understand. He did though, Boris looked concerned and stopped the car. He gave me a look I couldn’t really place,”Look, kiddo. I gotta respond on this one, but it’s back that way,” he gestured behind us,”It’s an all night type deal. Are you good for the last few blocks?”

I nodded,”Yeah, you go do what you gotta man. Thank you for the help, and the ride.”

“Any time Amber.” He nodded, his face looked a bit forlorn,”You should be safe from here, but be careful.”

“Always.” I smiled as I slid out of the cruiser, my boots hit the pavement and I walked behind the car to the sidewalk. Boris took off a moment later, back down the way we had come.

I should have asked how he knew Travis wasn’t around. I know now that's what he meant when he said I was safe. The look in his eyes should have clued me in, but I just figured it was part of whatever call he had gotten. I was right. Doesn’t make it easier for him though.

He’d get six calls of the same nature that night. And he wasn't the only one, a total of twenty eight similar calls came in one after another. None of them could be explained. He still blames himself for the two that survived, and the rest that didn't.

Boris Lison had lived in Merin Falls his entire fifty seven years of life. And he’d known Travis for all twenty one years of his. He’d been close with the football star's grand dad. But after his spiral, the officer just felt bad for the kid. That made it hard for poor Boris to pick him up off the pavement that night. The official story was that he crashed the Lexus into the retainer wall because of his erratic behavior. Some of the officers even insinuated that it was on purpose after my rejection and breaking his nose. That he had finally snapped and tried to end it all. Claiming mental illness was easier than trying to explain the gaping hole in his chest. Or how he had been dragged out of the car through the back windscreen. How he ended up a good half mile from the car. Or why he was frozen almost cryogenically with his heart yanked halfway out of his ribcage by the time Boris had found him. How he survived for the following week is beyond all of us. Not that he was any help in explaining anything. By the time I was ready to leave the hospital myself the following week, Travis tried to use his bed sheets and window for his own way out. I can’t say I blame him. I probably would have done the same after what happened. He spent the next two years in the Merin Falls psych ward. His time there was a horror show of its own.

What happened that night scarred a lot of people in this town. Unfortunately, myself included, both physically and mentally.

Boris had just gotten out of sight and I started making my way down the block. My body was still on high alert from my encounter with Travis. Every noise, flash of headlights, each passing car made me freeze. I'm not a skittish person. Anxious sure, but it's a quiet anxious. Not jumpy. Something in the air had me on edge. It felt like each step dragged me through a slurry of static and shaved ice.

My feet trudged onward. Alarm bells flagged in my brain, each thud of my heart sent a scream from the back of my mind. They all called me to turn and run. But….I didn't.

I should have.

The further I went the worse the feeling of unease got. Then, after a block, I saw something. A dark figure crossed the street ahead of me. I watched as it moved from my side to the other, then back again. Stopping in my tracks, my brow furrowed. It was like looking at something dipped in Vantaa black. My brain wanted to warp around it, like it was a void between two images that should be touching but weren't.

The way it moved, it wasn't….it wasn't right. Like a shadow blinking in and out of existing, but never moving all at the same time. I was frozen the moment my eyes caught it. My skin prickled as ice slinked in a slurry through my veins. I could feel the sludge crawling up the back of my neck as the thing turned to me. Whatever this was, I wasn't supposed to have seen it.

Thoughts raced in my mind, 'I've dealt with weird shadows before, if I tell it to leave it should right?'

'No wait, why isn't my mouth moving?'

'Hold on why can't I mo- wait is it getting closer!?'

A scream was lost in the void of my throat as I realized that the creature was moving in static flashes toward me, or was it? It was close, then it was miles away, a few yards, miles and miles, feet, then inches.

‘Shit!’

Freezing blood pounded in my ears as this...this thing...I couldn’t form a real thought as it neared me. What should have been it's face, instead just a chasm of inky blackness, was inches from mine. If it had eyes I couldn't see them. But I could feel them. It felt like a numbness trailing over me as it tried to understand what I was. Panic clutched my chest as the numb feeling hovered over my heart. The ice in my veins rushed to the center of where it was staring. A choked groan seeped from my throat as I felt the muscle in my chest freeze to a halt.

'How am I even still breathing?'

'Wait...am I?'

I couldn’t tell anymore.

It’s arm moved as it flashed back several feet again. Looking at this thing hurt. Like I was watching a game character glitch in and out as it tried to move. Just rapid, glitchy, morphing, shapes of shadow. It looked humanoid, but entirely not at the same time. Raising its arm I felt cold static touch the skin over my heart. My top was probably fucked, but I quickly didn’t care as I felt it slowly pushing it's claws into my flesh. I couldn’t scream. Gods I wanted to. I wanted to cry out in pain and terror. This creature was ripping my chest open. Claws in the shape of a perforated circle were digging, boring their way to my heart. Determined to remove the icy lump of muscle and sinew from where it was caged in bone.

Silent tears rolled down my cheeks, so hot they burned like flames as they fell. As they left blazing trails, it occurred to me as the heat faded, I couldn’t feel anything but the pain in my chest anymore. A sickening ‘*CRACK’* sent a new wave through my body. White spots floated and flitted around the edge of my eyes. Like sick fairies drawn to the scent of blood. This thing was taking it's time.

It enjoyed watching me suffer. Frozen in fear and pain.

The next thought that crossed my mind was so horribly clear,’I’m going to die here.’ I wish I could say I had some awakening and I snapped out of it. Or that in that moment my life flashed before my eyes and I saw the error of some choice in my life. But no. In that moment, alone with that thing, it’s claws reaching for my frozen heart, I just wished for one more moment. The image that did come to my mind just as the white began to take my sight wasn’t something deep, or wise, or heroic. It was a smile. A smile I knew would never look the same if I died. From that day on it would be tinged with sadness. Of not knowing what happened. Maybe she would think I just left. I prayed, for the first time in so many years, a silent thought,’Please, let her hate me. Don’t let her linger. Don’t let her search. Forget me and be happy.’ And that was it.

Everything went white.

I woke up two days later in a hospital bed. The nurse beside me was changing an IV bag. His eyes caught mine as they fluttered open, with a professional manner he told me I was in the hospital and to not move. After calling the doctor and running a few tests. Things like asking me for information, grip strength tests, stuff like that. They told me what happened. Just as I passed out, before I was gored by a shadow thing, Ryan had found me. He said I was just collapsed on the sidewalk cold, with a ring of stab wounds on my chest. He called 911 and they rushed me to the hospital. I had a few cracked ribs, and they said it was nearly impossible that all of the stabs had missed major arteries. But it wasn’t. That thing wanted me alive to the last second. Ryan found me two hours after I left the shop.

It had frozen me there for two hours.

I was in the hospital for recovery for a few days. Iian and Ryan checked in on me every day. Arthur and Luther came by a few times too. They even paid for my bills. I really love them so much. I don’t know where I’d be without them all. Once I was released, Iian stayed with me till he believed I wouldn’t keel over. Within two months I was healed up, a perfect ring of five exactly matching scars, centered right over my heart. As soon as the doc cleared me, which took a bit, she’s a thorough woman. I was in the tattoo parlor the next day getting a new piece to accent my new scars. That thing tried to kill me. But, I’m no coward. I was scared shitless, I’d only felt fear like that once before that day. Despite that, I lived. Somehow. So I’m owning it. Just like the one on my back. My shoulder. The bullet scar in my thigh. And the bands around my wrists.

Each scar is a memory. Each tattoo, a way to take back control in a small way. Every horror story leaves a scar of some kind. Mine were physical this time. Next time maybe we’ll look into the ones on my mind. But for now Iian is bugging me to check in, I didn't realize how long I've been typing. I’m Amber Haze, and I’ll be back soon with more from the tiny town of Merin Falls.

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Part 2