S6 Ep327: Episode 327: Really Weird Horror Stories

Welcome to Dr. Creeper's Dungeon. Well, according to Stephen King, there are three types of terror. The gross out. The sight of a severed head tumbling down a flight of stairs. It's when the lights go out and something green and slimy splatters against your arm. Then there's the horror. The unnatural. Spiders the size of bears, the dead waking up and walking around. It's when the lights go out and something with claws grabs you by the arm. Then there's the last and the worst one. Terror. When you come home and noticed everything you own had been taken away and replaced by an exact substitute. It's when the lights go out and you feel something behind you. You hear it, you feel its breath against your ear. But when you turn around, there's nothing there. We have a real mixed bag of delights for you this evening. Featuring all three of these types of terror. Now before we begin, as always, a word of caution. Tonight's stories may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery. If that sounds like your kind of thing. Then let's begin. Every time the ball drops, 2022 starts over again. And I'm the only one who remembers. By Channel X Horror. My name's Julie Winters. I was born on December 13th, 1997. I should be 39 years old now. But I'm not. I'm 24 and I've been 24 for 16 years. I can't grow older. I can't die. I've tried, but I was here before. You were here before. All of us were here before. But somehow nobody remembers. Nobody ever remembers. Only me. It's the same thing every time. December 31st, 2022. Standing in the middle of Times Square. Landlocked in the Sea of Revelies. The ball drops. The countdown. Three, two, one. And then the calendar turns. To January 1st, 2022. Again. In December of 2022, my friends and I had planned to go to Times Square for New Year's Eve. Just as we always do. But this time we were going with a special purpose. To give a huge middle finger to the past year as we sailed away toward New Horizons. Some friends even flew in a few days early for the event. Oh, and Prince and the Revolution said they were going to party like it's 1999. I think they had the right predictions just the wrong year. But on December 30th the police announced that they were still going to drop the ball. Nobody would be allowed in Times Square on New Year's Eve. Well, to say that we were disappointed was the understatement of a lifetime. What will we do now? Sit home and watch a live stream of the ball drop? After friends have flown here from across the country. Well, they could have stayed home and done that. This was not going to go down like that. They were not going to be denied our ride of passage out of this year. Yeah, when Clark Grisrow drives across the country to take you to Wally World, you'll go into Wally World with a John Candy opens the gate or not. I knew that many of the elites were being given permission to watch the ball drop from surrounding locations. And police presence was going to be cut by 80% which definitely worked in our favor. The plan was to approach from several blocks away, avoiding 8th Avenue and 42nd Street at all costs. We would gradually get closer while maintaining an aloof presence as if we were simply on our way somewhere else, not trying to enter the square. With these covert measures it began to feel like we were trying to avoid detection by occupying forces. It was close to midnight when we made our approach. We couldn't get in early, weird risk being pushed out of the area completely by the police before the ball dropped. As some random nameless pop star finished a blank cover of a John Lennon song, the 32nd countdown began. So when the countdown hit 15 seconds, we picked up our pace. 10 seconds, we started running. Cops saw us and yelled, Stop, you can't be here. But it was too late, we were already there. I sent a block away from the ball as it was landing in perfect view. 3, 2, 1. Came through the broadcast in my earbud as the cop was just yards away from us. Happy New Year. Don't remember anything after that. All I remember is that we were in front of one Broadway Avenue when midnight hit. And suddenly it was 3am and we were back at my place in Queens. I didn't say anything about my missing memory to the others and they didn't say anything to me. I wondered if the occupying forces had been keeping people away for reasons other than a virus. The next New Year's Eve, 2022. The same group of us met up, except for John, he couldn't make it this year. This time the streets were full. Everything was back to normal. So I thought. Everything was going as you'd expect. The flavors of the month were lip syncing their current radio hits. Talking heads from radio and TV were all talking into microphones and telling their audience how much fun they were supposed to be having. From the countdown reached 10 seconds, the crowd chanted along. 10. 9. Someone cracked a joke about Ryan's secret as balls dropping. 3. 2. 1. Happy. And that's when I came to consciousness back at my apartment in Queens, along with my friends. The same friends, including John, who couldn't make it this year. I turned on my TV and flipped through the playbacks of the celebrations. The number 2022 was splashed everywhere, even across the huge plastic glasses that they were all wearing. My phone said it was January 1st, 3am. Just 3 hours prior, it was December 31st, 2022. I woke up the next day thinking of what a strange dream that was. Well, that is until I started flipping through social media posts. Everybody was wishing everyone a happy 2022. I thought I must still be dreaming. But well, the dream didn't end. I continued living every day just as I had the year before. I knew when many things were going to happen before they happened. Some of the things that I didn't even remember would hit me after they'd happened, making me laugh. I tried to sing a psychiatrist. I didn't tell them I still thought I was repeating the previous year. I presented it as a thing that temporarily played me. But I was now aware that it was not real, and I was just trying to figure out how it had happened and work with the fallout of it all. When the doc asked me if I still think I'm repeating this previous year, I hesitated before stumbling and saying no. I think he knew I was lying. My birthday came again on December 13th, and I turned 25 again as I had the year prior before time reset. Again came New Year's Eve in Times Square, and again at midnight I woke at 3am in my apartment in Queens, celebrating January 1st, 2022 with the same friends. And it happened again. And again. I tried changing things over the year, thinking that I did something wrong and that I needed to fix it in order for time to finally continue moving forward. None of this worked. After my 8th time repeating 2022, I decided that I couldn't take it anymore. I was going to end it. In mid July of that cycle I drove across the George Washington Bridge. Halfway across I pulled over to the side, and I leapt. My next memory was of waking up in my apartment in Queens at 3am, January 1st, 2022. So I can't even die. No matter what happens to me, time keeps resetting. This year, one thing changed. After the ball dropped and the countdown hit zero, I didn't suddenly wake up at 3am in my apartment. No, this time on the stroke of midnight, we stayed exactly where we were on the street in front of one Broadway. The sea of revelers from December 31st, 2022 suddenly disappeared. One second prior, we couldn't move. Now we were standing alone in front of the ball. Streets empty. Still New Year's Day 2022. Just no 3 hour time and space shift to my apartment. Well, I no longer care if I'm deemed mad or insane. I'm telling my story publicly in order to try to find anyone else who remembers the recent. I haven't yet met anybody who remembers. I'm now casting the wise net possible by telling my story online. Please contact me if you remember. There has to be someone. Julie Winters. The Stalker From Hell by Joe Rocks, 28. You ever wonder if someone's watching you? Have you ever seen a mysterious car just parked two blocks from your house with someone inside? Or a joker who's always passing by your house, almost every hour? Don't ever let your guard down. Sometimes these people are always trying to see when you're not at home to break in, or worse, when you are alone. This would mark the third year that Megan would be single. She was never open to any possibility of dating. She closed herself off ever since her last boyfriend of five years passed away from a car accident. This caused Megan so much pain that she never allowed herself to open her heart to anyone. Her friends would always try to set her up on a date, but she always refused. Megan knew that at some point she had to be open to meeting someone, but when the opportunity would come, she'd always back away. That was until her best friend Judy recommended her to dating her, while they were both at work. Megan thought she was just joking, but Judy insisted she'd try it since her sister made her husband on the app, and would always talk about how happy he makes her. Megan brushed it off and continued working on some of the loans for her clients. Megan works for one of the largest banks in her city, Maine Financial. She wasn't too concerned about guys at the moment, since she was the manager for the loan department, which kept her very busy. Later that night, after the gym, Megan arrived home, while reading a book she decided to give the dating app a look. It wasn't long before she created a profile and filled out the About Me. As soon as she finished creating a profile, she was tempted to delete her account right away, but instead she just closed the app. She wasn't quite ready. She began to cry out of pity for herself. She was still very hurt. She put the book down and headed to bed, put her phone to the side, and fell asleep. The next morning Megan woke up to a dozen notifications, all from the dating app. She had a bunch of messages from guys, some young, while the rest were a bunch of older men, some even asking for naked pictures. She'd blog those right away. One guy in particular caught her attention. His name was Adam, and his message was the most innocent one. It read, read your bio. I've been single for two years myself, and well, sometimes we need that time to find ourselves, but I'm open to any possibilities. I hope to get to know you, Adam. Well, Megan still wanted to delete her profile, but this guy kind of attracted her. Throughout the whole day Megan would send messages to Adam. How did he? They were both getting to know each other, and it seemed that Megan was taking a liking to him, since it was the first time she was being open with her emotions to any man. Even a friend Judy noticed that she was in such a great mood all day. It's all continued for the next four days, and then Adam asked the question, Can I meet you tomorrow night? We can go dancing and listen to live music all night. You've made my entire week amazing, and I'd love to make your Friday just as. Oh, Megan didn't know how to respond, so she didn't. She needed time to think, and she didn't respond to Adam until the next morning, when he sent her another message. Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to be pushy. If you're not ready, it's okay, I understand. Have a good day. Oh, Megan felt bad. She didn't know Adam too well, but he was a sweetheart to her to turn him down. So she replied to him. Yep, I'd love to go out tonight. Adam immediately replied with an emoji smile. Oh, Megan had surprised herself, but she was willing to take a chance. Late that night, as Megan was getting ready to head out, she started to get cold feet, and then she realized she wasn't ready to be open again. She didn't text Adam that she wasn't going, she just blocked his number and deleted her profile and removed the app. She went about that night instead and fell asleep early with her cat. The next morning, Megan woke up to a bunch of notifications on her phone. She immediately thought it was Adam, but thought, well, how could it be if she blocked his number? But instead, they were doorbell notifications. There were motions detected outside her house at two in the morning. She opened the video notifications and saw it was a tall man with a long hoodie. She wasn't able to see his face since the hoodie was curing it. And this man didn't ring the doorbell at all. He just stood in front of the door for five minutes, staring straight at the door and then would leave. And he came back again, once at two, then at two thirty, then at three, then at three forty-five. And he'd just do the same thing, just stand in front of the door and stare at it. Well, this creeped Megan out and she called the police. She thought it could maybe be Adam, so she unblocked him and messaged him. Were you at my house at two in the morning? But he didn't respond. This whole situation really concerned Megan, and she didn't know what to do. The following day, Megan started receiving private calls, and when she'd answer them, nobody would answer. She could still hear someone on the other line breathing into the phone, and then she'd hang up. Megan felt this was getting really out of hand, but nothing prepared her for what would come later that night, when she was home alone. As Megan was checking her emails, she noticed that she had to reset all her passwords on her computer due to security concerns. When she tried to receive a code to verify her accounts, the number on fire wasn't registered to her at all, but a number that ended in 1515. Megan never authorized this change, and it was making her more nervous than she already was. There was no way she could reset her password, since he would only ask to verify with a number that's not even hers. Then suddenly it clicked, Megan. She checked her contacts and saw that Adam's number ended with 1515. Megan jumped out from the table and was in complete shock. Adam had hacked into her passwords and changed them. She called the police again, but there was no way to confirm if Adam had even hacked into her email, since anyone could have changed it. The police even told her that this Adam person may not even be who he is, and that Adam might not even be his real name. They advised her just to be on the lookout, since there hasn't been any physical harm done to her yet. Megan checked Adam's dating profile, but it was deleted too. Megan knew this wouldn't be easy to catch someone from a dating site that she'd never met. The only way would be if he stopped in front of her door again, but this would only scare Megan even more to think that he'd always be around without her noticing. The next day would be even worse for Megan as she returned to work. Her boss wanted to speak with her immediately. She looked very upset. Megan went to her office and sat down, and the security guard was right beside Megan. This was very concerning. Megan, we have a problem. Seems like you're missing ten thousand dollars from your register yesterday. We tried to see how the money went missing, and it seems that it was transferred to your personal bank account. Look, I'm afraid we're gonna have to let you go. You're lucky we're not pressing charges for this. Oh, Megan was stunned. She couldn't believe what she'd just heard. She tried to speak with her supervisor, but she was very disappointed. Didn't even make eye contact with Megan throughout the whole conversation. Megan was then escorted by the security guard outside, and even her friend Judy looked disappointed as she was being escorted out. The second security guard on site already had her belongings in a box and gave them to her. Megan just sat inside her car in disbelief. She knew she didn't steal the money, but she knows who did now. Adam. When she was driving home, she kept getting private calls again. Well, she ignored them. All ten of them ringing continuously. Well, her phone kept blowing up with all these private calls. Until finally, out of frustration and anger, she answered it. What do you want? She waited for an answer. Yes, hi, I'm calling about your vehicle's extended warranty. Oh, Megan, let out a sigh of relief. Oh, and I'm also calling to see why you stood me up on our date, Megan. Well, she was horrified. I bet you don't really like how your life is going right now, do you? What do you want, you psycho? The cops are tracing my calls. You're a freaking liar. Always happy. We had a great thing going, and you managed to fuck it all up. Your life is only going to get so much worse for you, Megan. I'm going to make you my slave, and there's nothing you'll be able to do about it. You'll be my bitch forever until you die. I want you to leave me alone. I've never even met you. Oh, don't worry. You soon will. And then Megan hung up. The private calls continued. Megan finally arrived home, a nervous wreck. Her neighbor, Mrs. Thornberg, came up to her. Megan, honey, how are you? Megan, honey, how are you? Not good, Mrs. Thornberg. Please, just leave me alone. Well, honey, I'm sorry to bother you, but I just had a question to ask you. Don't you understand when I said to leave me alone? Okay, honey, very sorry to bother you. Mrs. Thornberg left, and then Megan received a text. Megan, please call me. It's about Mom. Her sister had texted her, and so Megan called her sister. Yeah? What's going on? Megan, what's going on with your phone? I've been calling you, and it's been busy. Look, I don't know what happened with Mom. Megan, Mom's at the hospital. Her pacemaker was going up the roof and accelerated a heart rate. I don't know if you can, but try to go to the hospital. We don't know what went wrong with her pacemaker. Megan didn't answer then. Megan, Megan, Megan hanged up the call. Adam said it would get worse, and she realized now that he was attaching himself to her family. Megan texted her friend Judy, asking for help when explaining to her about the dating app, and how this was all Adam pulling the strings and hacking into anything he could get his hands on. But Judy didn't respond. Megan locked all her doors and locked herself into a bedroom crying. It was 9.45 at night, and Megan couldn't go to sleep. She received a text, thinking it was Judy, but it was actually Ms. Thornberg. I'm very sorry to upset you this afternoon, but I needed to ask you something. Where did you find your electrician? I've been looking one for the past month. Huh? Well, Megan quickly texted back. What electrician? She waited nervously. She waited nervously for the reply. Well, the one that went into your basement. At that moment, all the lights went off in the house. Megan was now trapped inside her own house, with Adam already inside. She tried to call the police, but her phone had no signal. For some reason, something was blocking the signal, and not even her text messages were going through. She hid herself inside her closet, crying helplessly, knowing there'd be no end to this. She heard the sound, then, of her bedroom door being busted open. She shrieked a little, but tried not to breathe, so Adam wouldn't be able to find her. Adam opened the closet door, but didn't see a thing, as Megan was hiding with her body in the corner, over a collection of dresses. He then closed the closet door. I told you we'd meet soon. Adam opened the closet door again, and pulled out a screaming Megan by her head. Hi. My name's Adam. It's great to finally meet you. He then covered Megan's mouth with his hands, and put a rag with chloroform into it. Megan fought hard to get Adam off her, but it was no use. Adam didn't stop until Megan's defenseless body stopped moving. Two weeks passed, and nobody had heard from Megan. Judy, her friend, got concerned, so she asked the cops if they'd search her home. Upon arriving, Megan was no more in sight. Her clothes were still there, her jewellery, her car, and everything. Judy found a letter in the kitchen. She opened it, and it simply read, Goodbye. Judy felt so guilty. No, she could have saved her friend, and also knowing that it was her that recommended the dating app to Megan. Now her friend is missing, long gone by now, not knowing if she's dead or alive. What could Adam have done to Megan? Well, the answer is still unknown, since she's been missing for the last seven years. Let me tell you something about Full Moons. Kids don't care about Full Moons. They're playing a Full Moon, no worries at all. They only get scared of magical werewolves from stupid adults, and their stupid stories. But what if? That's the question raised in tonight's story. The Werewolf by Urban Playground One. Well, whoever said, No good deed goes unpunished, was a cynical thought. Well, it fits reality well. I definitely got messed up doing one. How? What's wrong with me? I don't know. I should be relaxed, but every time I close my eyes and then open them, it feels like I was moved into another room that looks exactly like this one. I should be comfortable, and used to this place by now, but no. It feels like at any moment, while I'm not looking so comfortable, I'm not looking so comfortable. Something will change that I can't see, but I can feel. What the hell happened to me? Was it that thing? No, but, right. Let's start from the beginning. It started at the church, our Lady of Hopeful Merseys. I looked into Father Dominic's tie-brown eyes. They're not that different from mine. We just have other concerns stealing our sleep. Been friends since kindergarten. Life was somewhat good to us, and it was easy to keep in contact. Ian, I need your help. Rather Anthony Dominic said. Well, my gut dropped. Oh yeah, this is not going to be fun. After the fried chicken incident, I learned to listen to my intuition. Guys call it their gut. Being a homicide detective for about ten years, I got a feel for when assignments were okay, or when ones would resemble a roller coaster ride with no constraints and no bar to hold onto. A type of case that would use my sanity for toilet paper and give it back to me. Sorry, but I like not being crazy. Well, at least sane enough to be seen as highly functional. Made afternoon sunlight shorn through the window, and it bathed Anthony in its glow so the guy upstairs, the one I was unsure I believed in, was trying to convince me to do what he wanted me to do. Oh, no promises, but tell me anyway, I said. Yeah, I was getting bad vibes. I'm no psychic, but I was definitely not feeling comfortable. Then again, Anthony is a friend, and I can't say I'm here as if I can't help him when he needs me. Anthony frowned. Yeah, I was real subtle. Should have been a bit more tactful. Did I tell you I don't exactly have a poker face? I understand that your caseload must reach to the ceiling of your office, and you're a homicide, not missing persons. So I'm not asking you to die of right ear and solve the mystery. Well, just sniff around, and if you find something, pass it on to missing persons. It's their area, Anthony said. For a moment I felt relieved. Just do some poking around of what could go wrong. My unease was still bugging me, though. Probably the act of investigation could get me messed up or worse. Can I reject this one in a way that won't hurt Anthony's feelings? Well, no, I can't be a dirtbag. Got it back my friends, or what am I? Ian. Anthony leaned in close and peered at me. Oh yeah, just give me the details. I'll forward them to missing persons. I said, maybe I have a chance here? Anthony sighed. After hearing your stories about the job, I know there's little that missing persons can do. I, or you, need to find more info for them. It's all hearsay and anecdotes without real proof. Oh, crap. I thought I could skip this one. All right, tell me what you have, and I'll decide. Anthony nodded. He looked away like he was getting his mental notes ready. Um, are you familiar with our Lady of Sorrows homeless shelter? I nodded. He looked back at me. Well, every other week I go there and check the status of our guests and the shelter. As you know, it's the middle of winter, and there are usually a lot of the unhomed here. Well, for some reason, there wasn't that many people. I asked the director about the situation, and he replied that the shelter was in good shape. And it was just that, well, he had less guests coming in. Something about that didn't feel right to me. You know the feeling. I wanted to make sure that the guy wasn't hiding anything. I won't have to push him a bit. He told me that there were vague rumors that something or someone was praying on the local unhomed. Well, my misgivings grew here. Another serial killer. The shelter was at the edge of a decaying industrial area, a relic from when the city was a manufacturing powerhouse. Blocks and blocks of abandoned warehouses and factories to hide in. Do you have something more definite or maybe someone I can talk to? Maybe I'd be lucky and there'd be little for me to do. Yeah, that sucks, but I'd rather be alive to regret than the alternative. Too bad I didn't get to bow out of this gracefully. Anthony shook his head. I'm sorry, maybe that's not enough for you to work on. Hmm, maybe I can still get out of this. Please see what you can do. Anthony pleaded and he locked his eyes on me again. I nodded and pushed down my misgivings. I'll see what I can do. See you later. I said and then stuck out my hand. Anthony gripped it and gave my hand a firm squeeze. May God bless and protect you. I left and hoped that I wouldn't need that blessing. Yeah, well, that turned out all right. For a few moments I just sat in my car as the people moved past me and the late afternoon sunlight warmed my face. Time to do some thinking. Why was I so reluctant? Yes, my gut felt like this was going to be one messy situation, but on the other hand, I just want to know to protect and serve as well as wanting to help a friend. Oh, I am going to regret this, but I'm going to find out what's going on. Also going to keep my head on a swivel, as the soldiers in the movies say. With that kind of resolved, I drove to the shelter. I also decided if things look like I can't handle them, it's time to go. Hopefully it won't come to that. Yeah, right. Shari was a four-storyed red brick building at the edge of the industrial district. Felt like a canyon with the buildings on both sides of the street. The dying sun shone down the middle. Since it was close to 5pm, people would be heading home and the area would be a dead zone. I got to think about that later as the setting sun covered everything in an orange glow like a dying candle. Maybe I should come back in the morning. No, if people need help now, it'd be too late by then. I sighed and then got out of my car and locked it. No one was hanging outside the shelter. I thought that was strange. I'd imagined that someone or someones would be standing around. Even if it wasn't a homeless shelter, people would be outside smoking and chatting. Our Lady of Sorrows had inspirational messages in the windows and looked a bit shabby but not run down. I pulled the door open and walked inside. In front was a bunch of empty carts. Behind them were some more with a few people sitting or lying on them. Beyond was a bunch of tables and two guys talking. One guy was white with a name tag and the other one was black and tall. He looked like a client, you know, one of the unhomed but he looked clean. I put my past the carts to eavesdrop while listening to the conversation. Dude, you know the things Aunt Seaf here writes, the black guy said. The white guy narrowed his eyes. Really? I've worked here for five years. I haven't changed. I know a dangerous hood and this area isn't one. The black guy sighed. I haven't heard it. You know what? No, I haven't. Do you know what happened to everyone? The truth is now, ghost stories. The white guy said while frowning. The black guy chuckled. This area is too messed up for ghosts. Really, Dale, you haven't heard anything strange when you go out alone on your smoke breaks. It's a strange howl that sounds like something from a TV show but not quite. For a moment, fear flicked across Dale's face. Jackpot. I knew that I'd have to join this conversation soon. It was too interesting. Dale grimaced. I just don't know what the hell that was. The black guy nodded. I know but we need help. Sanging around here, picking people off when they leave at night. If we keep people in when the sun goes down, we can save them. A moment later, Dale rubbed his neck with his left hand. Why can't Foss people to stay here? Probably against the law. And I don't like Foss and anyone to do things they don't want to do. Right. Time for me to step in. Hello. I'm a friend of Father Dominic. Dale looked at me and nodded. Yay. Told me you'd be coming. Well, maybe since you're a cop you could do something to help. He looked back at the black guy. Tell him why you told me, Peppy. Maybe he can help. Well, Peppy sized me up with his brown eyes. Now you wouldn't have any silver bullets or holy water, would you? What the hell? It's just some monster movie. I bet that's just a logical reason for what's going on. Bet some money on that. Not a whole lot. My pay grade wouldn't allow it. No, I'm here to find out what's going on. Peppy frowns. You're going to end up like the other missing people. For a moment I wanted to argue, but maybe that's not the way to go. Well, if you want to help, I'm here. Give me some proof, and if I can handle it, I can get others to help. Or you could just do nothing and have more people go missing. Well, that's kind of harsh, but I'm not going to be dismissed so lightly. Again, Peppy scammed me and then he nodded. Ah, maybe you're right. Come into my office and we'll talk. Dale laughed. I looked at Dale. Do you know what's going on? He just shook his head. I were two times I heard the howl, whatever it was. Both were last week when I left too late. It was dark outside. Sorry, can't help you with this, but if you need him for one of the guests here, and he's legal, then just ask. You can trust Peppy. He might be nuts, but he's good folks. I screw you, Dale, Peppy said, and then laughed. I followed Peppy to the back of the building. I was quite sure Peppy wasn't his real name, but whatever. We sat at a table that had a pack of cards on it. You know where this thing or person is? Remember where you encountered it? I asked. Peppy glanced away from me. Not a good sign. Either he was lying or maybe he didn't get a good look. Hey, I promised Father Dominic that I'd look into this problem. Fine. I'll remember what I was running, hearing the thing howl behind me. I knew better than to look back. Peppy said while his eyes looked out of the window. I followed his gaze. The sun was close to setting and it was getting dark outside. Where'd you find the thing? Peppy's side. Yeah, he was on board, although rather reluctantly. I'll show you where I thought I found the thing. You can take care of it while I head back, Peppy said. I nodded. Fair enough. What's going on? I hope my gun will work on it. That's crazy talk. We left the shelter and walked down the block. It was quitting time and folks streamed out of the buildings or stood and waited for buses or drove by us. One thing I noticed was that they were all hyper-vigilant. Like it was enemy territory and death was as close as the next breath. Oh, you see it, don't you? Peppy asked. Yeah, folks seem to be on alert here. Is it really that bad around here? I asked. Peppy nodded as we crossed the street. My word gets round. It's just a few more blocks from here and I'll head back. First the buildings look like well-maintained factories or office buildings. But as we crossed blocks the area got more shabby and run down. Oh yeah, and we could see fewer people. We stopped next to a graffiti-covered metal fence. Peppy looked around. Yeah, this is as far as I go. Good luck, man. I could feel the relief in his voice, but he didn't have a gun. Well, enjoy your evening. Thanks, man. Something like a howl in the distance stopped Peppy. Sounded like it was distorted, like the sound was being run through some sort of cheap speakers. Well, I guess it was showtime. Damn. Peppy looked at me as fear crossed his face. Oh, man, ain't doing that dance again. Bye. He turned and then stopped. What the hell? What the hell? I looked behind me. What? The street we'd been walking on was gone. All we saw was a chain-link fence in front of a towering red brick building with shattered windows. No way. I'd been keeping track of the streets and the landmarks before we got here. Where'd that building come from? I turned and looked around and a chill raced down my back. This is not good. Nothing seemed familiar. It's like we were picked up and dropped in a different area of the industrial zone, except we'd kept our eyes open all the time. There would have been some clue or something, right? Oh, shit. Oh, shit, shit. It's happening again. Holy shit, we are. Peppy sat as he swept his gaze all over the place. Hey, keep it together, man. Keep it together, man. I screamed. Are you clueless, mother? Peppy started. Oh, don't bug out on me now. I interrupted. You survived this before. Right, which way now? For a few moments, Peppy just stood there, gasping like a beached fish. Wondered if I'd have to slap him. Well, last time I was drunk, so everything just blanced together. I just remember streets and streets and buildings. Luck or something else was with me, and I got out. This time I won't be so lucky. Oh, man, I don't want to die here. Peppy screamed and leaned against the fence. I looked around again and picked out something wrong among the other messed up things. The sky, it was pitch black, no stars, no moon or anything. Another chill raced down my back. I've been out at night plenty of times, and this was not normal. To crank up the, oh, crap, factor, the hairs on the back of my neck were bristling. And that happens when I'm being watched by someone or something. Might be a really good idea to pick from the Smart Actions list. We need to go somewhere and not stay on the streets. Maybe we can figure things out indoors. Come on, I said. Let's go. No, nowhere. How do you know you're not walking into the Warthings lair? Peppy asked as his eyes flicked all over the place. I don't, but you want some cover or at least a wall at your back. Maybe we'll find the other missing people. I said as I pulled out my gun. Peppy just shook his head, and then he got up. You're good. He shook his head. Well, let's go anyway. I said as I walked down the silent street. After a few moments or maybe hours, who knows, I really began to wonder more about this place. It was nothing but abandoned buildings and fences, and of course cars that were more like rust buckets and flickering street lights. Also, there were no side streets. And that was also strange. I've checked a map of this area once, and we've only like five or six blocks of buildings in a grid pattern, and then they on ramp to the freeway. I mean, what the hell? For a second I had an image in my mind of a huge treadmill. New buildings were made in front, while the old buildings we couldn't see were destroyed. Reality crushed down to just five or six blocks. No, that's crazy talk. I'd glance behind me, and the scene there was unfamiliar. We were just there. Don't bother looking back. Just keep going forward. Pappy said while he walked on my left. Yep, we were in the twilight zone, and I wanted to punch Rod Serling in the face, hard. There had to be an exit somewhere. As if something heard my thoughts, we heard the howl again. It was a bit louder, like the thing was closer now. Hey, um, how about we pick up the pace? Yeah, yeah, maybe we can run it over and escape like we're in a cartoon. Pepe said, but he did start walking faster. Again I looked around. There had to be a doorway or an entrance to these buildings somewhere. Again I saw nothing but fencing. All I saw was rusty metal fences, chain link, faded brick or cement walls. Of course, none of them were climbable. They were either too tall or covered with razor wire. Whose edges gleam sharp and dangerous. Well actually, now I think about it. There were no openings to the fences that faced the street either. How do people get inside? Hey, wake up! Someone covered an opening in the fence over there. Pepe said and pointed across the street. What? I looked at the fence. It was rusty and some of the paint was peeling off, but Pepe was right. Down the block, more buildings loomed. Oh, I had to check. If this was the layer, why bother to show that there was more to this street? Then again, maybe there was nothing down the block. You know, an illusion. Well, there was only one way to find out. Wait, there's another way. I jammed my right hand in my pocket and pulled out my phone. Maybe I could get some useful information from the map app. Nope, there were no bars. After a few moments, the screen faded to black. What the hell? I guess that's it then. Frickin' tech, you can't trust it. Come on! Pepe said as he held the fence open. I docked under the part that Pepe was holding and stepped past the fence. Another building with broken windows was in front of me. The concrete was cracked with dead weeds pushing through the cracks. There were no sounds other than the noises that we made. Near the roof was some sort of logo or name of the building in faded red, but I couldn't read it. Of course, there was no door facing us. I thought about smashing through a window, but maybe that might make too much noise. If someone had cut the fence, maybe they'd found an easier way in. Or maybe this was the layer of the howling thing, and any way in would work. One way to find out. Yeah, left or right. Pepe shrugged. We went left. It was a rusty metal door. When we got closer to it, I saw that the lock had been shot out. Or maybe the fence cutter had a gun. Have to be careful. Well, you ready? All right, like I have a choice, Pepe said. I almost wanted to reply that you always have a choice, but decided not to. I was surprised that the door opened without creaking, and we were in. Since there was light from outside from the street lamps, we didn't walk into total darkness. Well, I pulled out my flashlight and swept it around. Dusty furniture and an equally dusty floor met my gaze. Footsteps in the thick dust led further into the room. I pointed at them and glanced at Pepe. He just nodded. We walked among the heap junk until we found a staircase leading up. I hoped that the mystery person just stopped at the next floor, unless it was a trap. I glanced at Pepe. He pointed at his ear and then upstairs. A few moments later, I heard it too. Someone was pacing back and forth. It would be a good idea to take this slow and easy. When we reached the landing, I could see rows of cracked cement pillars, and at the end of the room, some guy was facing us. Yeah, he had a gun in his right hand, but it was facing downwards. That's a good sign. Did you see it? Who are you guys? The man asked, his eyes scanned back and forward. We were playing navy blue suits and black shoes. No badger ID on his suit. I raised my hand slowly. Yeah, I'm a cop, and this guy is helping me. The guy put his gun in his side holster. Hey, did you come to rescue me? I slowly shook my head and then brought my hands down. No we got sent or brought here by something. I took a quick glance at Pepe. He had his hands down already and was looking around. The man strode forward and stuck out his hand. My name is Vince McDonnell. I'm with the FBI. I went forward and shook his hand. Ian Roberts, browed in PD. Pepe walked up. Yeah, I'm Pepe. Vince then reached into his jacket and showed me his ID. I showed him my badge. So, how did you get here? Vince shrugged. He was looking for a friend of mine. She had been sending me emails about some weird stuff about missing employees. You know about BKT holdings? BKT, that rang a vague bell. I remember that there was a fuss about a Japanese company buying up one of the abandoned industrial blocks. And that was several years ago. Yeah, didn't they buy up a block in the industrial area? Vince nodded. Yep, for a while they were doing fine. Then, a few months ago, people started disappearing. And she stopped answering my emails. So, I decided to check things out myself. I heard some weird howl. And I was in this area. I tried to go back, but everything has changed. I glanced at Pepe and he looked back. Vince scowled. What? You guys know something? I shook my head. We were investigating some missing homeless people from the shelter. And we ended up here, wherever this place is. Great. Maybe whatever brought us here is an aggressive bastard and will come for us soon. I don't want to die of thirst. I mean, there's no food or water. No rats or bugs either. Vince said as he swept his tired eyes around the area again. Something about that made me take a look around too. The cracked concrete pillars had changed to pink tile pillars, though they were also battered. Even the floor had changed. Now it was scuffed wooden tiles. Hey, wasn't it— What a howl interrupted me. There was more distortion in it. It sounded closer, like a block away now. Pepe looked out the window. Check out the street. Well, looked out the windows. The buildings had changed to ruined factories. Huge holes had been blown into the walls. Quite sure they didn't look like that earlier. Vince took out his gun and flicked off the safety. You need to get ready. He didn't have to tell me twice. I pulled my back up gun from my leg holster and gave it to Pepe. Hey, you know how to use this. You nodded. Oh yeah, I went to a public school. The howling got louder and the room went through a bunch of changes. I got queasy seeing the area twist and melt like ice cream in the blazing sun. I didn't want to do it, but I just had to close my eyes. There was a loud growl and then gunshots. I could feel something cold and heavy in front of me. You know, like something big was right in front, like a moving bus or a truck, and the wind from it that pushes you back. There were more gunshots and screams. Even though somehow I knew not to look closely, I just had to take a peek. Definitely shouldn't have done that. I partially opened my eyes and got quick flashes of black fur, darker than the night, red eyes brighter than flame, and other things that threatened to make me throw up what little food I had in my stomach. Gasping, I closed my eyes and fired away at where I guess the thing was, this hot, stinking breath blew in my face. I woke up in a bed. I woke up in a bed, looking at white ceiling tiles. Was this heaven? A voice asked for Dr. Kierschen over an intercom. Yeah, it was if heaven sounded like a hospital. Well, I doubted that. Checked out my body. Other than a small bandage on my head, I seemed okay. Inside my head was a different story. What had happened? A peppy and Vince all right? How did I get here? I sat up and flinched. A guy in a brown suit sat in a chair across from my bed. Well, how long has this guy been here? Wait, didn't my room change? I looked around again. My bed was next to a pale blue wall, while my left side was another wall on my night table, was on my left side of the bed. Typical hospital room setup. Oh, excuse me. I just need a bit of your time. And we can go on over our lives, the man said. I narrowed my eyes and looked at my visitor. The guy looked so average. Plain oatmeal would seem like an exotic dish next to him. Anyway, let's see what he has to say. Who are you? Jacob Brinn. I work for clients that wish to remain anonymous. I propose an exchange. I need to know what happened to you, and maybe I can give you something to cure your ailment. He said in a quiet voice that had a bit of strength underneath it. Well, something else in the room had changed. I could feel it. Again, I looked around. Well, it seemed the same, but I still felt like everything had moved or changed in some subtle way while I wasn't looking. Maybe I should get a ruler and check the distances. Mr. Roberts, the faster we discuss what happened, the sooner you can get your cure. Brinn said. Well, why don't you give me the cure now? I asked. Brinn shook his head. I need to be sure about the nature of your symptoms and what infected you. Something about that sounded kind of fishy. I'm in hospital. The docs and nurses here probably checked me out and know my situation. And the room seemed to change again, but I kept my focus on Brinn, if only barely. Brinn sighed. Yes, I've checked your records. You're in very good shape considering what you went through. But this hospital is woefully inadequate in handling certain maladies. They're planning on releasing you either today or tomorrow, depending on how the paperwork goes. But if you leave without a proper cure, you won't live to see next weekend. Is that a threat? I asked as I looked around again to check if my room had changed. Of course it did, but I had to look closer. Mr. Roberts, let's discuss what happened. I've seen many strange things and would believe you. Again, if you answer my questions, you can be cured. Your situation, if not dealt with, will prove too much of a psychic burden for you to handle. Brinn said. Hey, you do realize I'm a homicide cop? I asked. What does this guy's deal? Then again, I did want to know what that was going on. Brinn nodded. You don't want to be dealing with this along with your caseload and your personal life. The room changed again. I ignored it, but I was wondering where I could get a ruler or a tape measure. What might be acting this squirrely when I get home? Ah, fine. What do you need to know? Please tell me what happened, Brinn said, and then he leaned forward. And so for the next few minutes or more, I told him what happened. Brinn listened and just nodded his head. When I finished and barely managed not to check my room for changes, Brinn spoke. It seems that this area was affected by a werewolf. A werewolf? Aren't those fictional? You need silver bullets or something to kill them? I asked. My earlier thought about monster movies came back to haunt me. No, not a werewolf, which is like a shape shifter. A werewolf is quite the different threat. It's not really a wolf. It's a creature that takes people away to a pocket dimension and torches them by showing them disquieting places before feeding. Somehow, we don't know why. It thinks that people fear wolves and uses that to frighten them. Brinn said, like this was a college lecture, all dry and didactic. Where does it come from? What is it, really? How did I end up here? I asked while trying not to check out my changed room. My room isn't really changing. It's my mind that's playing tricks on me. Well, maybe Brinn is right. I won't last long if I have to worry about the changes in any room I'm in. We don't know where it comes from, and we know little about the creature other than what we find of the victims. The few we find, that is. Well, here a special case. One of a very select group that have escaped, and of course, damage to the creature, Brinn said. Really? Brinn nodded. Ah, some commuters saw you and two piles of bloody clothing just appear next to the freeway a few days ago. How many days? My stomach dropped a little. I could guess who the clothing belonged to. I hoped I was wrong. Four days, and preliminary forensic results were very interesting. You were covered with blood from four sources. One was from a small gash on your head. Another sample was from an FBI agent, McDonald. The last of the identified samples was Martin Cheswick, aka Peppy. There was also some blood that was from an unidentified source, Brinn said. Damn. Both of them didn't deserve that kind of death. Poor Peppy. Yeah, it was his choice, and he chose to help me, but I still felt responsible for his death. Well, I've got to focus on what's going on now, and not the fact my room is still changing. What was the unidentified blood from? Is it dead? I asked. I didn't want to deal with something like this ever again. Brinn smiled. I think it was from the werewolf. As far as it being dead, well, we don't know. But those who have survived never encounter the creature again. Hopefully that will give you some comfort. He glanced at his watch. Now that we know what you thought, I can give you the right cure. Brinn handed me a silvery packet and a business card from a pocket in his suit. Please take your medicine now. Don't worry, it won't show up on any tests, or interact with any medicine they may have you on. I looked at the packet. I didn't have any markings on it. For a moment I thought that maybe Brinn was going to try and poison me. But when I felt that my room had just changed again, I tore open the packet and choked down the pill inside. I took two glasses of tepid water before it stopped feeling like a big lump in my throat. And then I looked up, and he was gone. What the hell? I lay back in bed and waited for a doctor or a nurse. Well, at least my room had stopped changing. Well, it is said that we all have secrets that we keep from those that we love, and none are more dangerous than those that are kept within a family, as we shall see in tonight's tale of terror. What I found at my dead aunt's manor house. By Trula. My maternal aunt, Stella, passed away a few weeks ago. Well, I didn't see her that much when she was alive. She was my mother's older sister, and they weren't that close. But she was fond of me and I liked her decently enough. She was the only other family member I had on my mother's side, because she and my mother were the only children of my maternal grandparents, and they were both long dead by the time I was born. They'd both perished in a house fire, shortly after my mother married my father. My parents and I used to visit her sometimes on the weekends when I was a kid. She was always quite affectionate with me, bringing me gifts and playing with me. You know, that sort of stuff. It kind of weirded me out sometimes, but I thought she was just kind of lonely. My aunt had been married once and had a son named Elias. But her husband, who was mentally ill, had a psychotic breakdown, kidnapped Elias, and threw both Elias and himself into the sea. Their bodies were never found. My mother had never met my aunt's husband and her nephew, because her and my aunt had been estranged for many years after the deaths of their parents. They'd only gotten back in shortly after I was born. My aunt lived in a big-ish manor house that had been in my mother's family for quite a few generations. I loved the place. It just felt so big and open. It sat next to a big field with a dense woodland, too, giving young me plenty of places to explore. One had found out that she'd left me the manor house in her will. Well, I was freaking ecstatic, and I quickly made plans to move in as fast as possible. And now finally had a house of my own, and I was no longer confined to my parents' house in my early twenties. But there was one place at the manor that had always been a mystery to me, and that place was the large Victorian-style greenhouse that was adjacent to the manor house. My aunt had strictly forbidden me and my parents from going anywhere near it. She told us that it was structurally unstable, and so overgrown that it just wasn't safe to go walking around inside of it. She'd also whispered to me that some poisonous exotic plants were growing inside of it as well. But, of course, I was a curious kid, and my aunt's warnings didn't stop me from trying to peek inside of it. But it was so overgrown inside that you couldn't really see very much. The only exotic plants really visible inside of it were some tall palms that looked to have been planted in the centre. I had one specific memory of one of my sneaky excursions to the greenhouse. I was eight or maybe nine at the time. It was around late afternoon in early autumn. The sky was cloudy in the air, had a soft chill to it. My folks and my aunt were inside chatting away, and I'd slipped away outside to entertain myself. I looked up to the greenhouse and pressed my face up against the glass to try and spot a new plant. And then I saw a big, dark shape moving behind some foliage. I got freaked out then and backed away from the greenhouse and didn't go near it again for the remainder of my childhood. Well, I would and should have asked my aunt about it, but I was worried that I'd get in trouble. So I kept my mouth shut and just assumed that I'd seen some kind of animal, a badger or something. My aunt could be a real nasty piece of work when she was mad. I could remember all of the snide, spiteful comments she'd hurled at my mother whenever they thought. She was never aggressive with me though, which is why I probably found it so difficult to see just how toxic my aunt's behaviour could be at times. Well, eventually their fights got so bad that my parents stopped visiting altogether. I was angry about it at first, but looking back my aunt really wasn't as nice a person as I thought she was, and I've started to feel that her affection for me may have had its ulterior motives. But of course, it was lightly that her nastier habits may have been the result of the trauma she'd suffered in life. Losing your husband and your baby at the same time, sure as hell would have wreaked havoc on someone, not to mention losing both your parents too. But according to my mother, my aunt had always been a huge harpy. I drove up to the manor house on a warm Saturday morning. I was going to get everything ready today and then invite my girlfriend over tomorrow. She'd always wanted to see the place and what it looked like. I couldn't wait to see her reaction, and another thing that was making me positively giddy was that I was now finally able to see just what dwelled inside of the enigmatic greenhouse. I was finally able to slake my years long curiosity. I smiled broadly as the manor house came into view. When I walked up to the oak door, I pushed it wide open and closed my eyes as I entered, allowing childhood nostalgia to flow over me. Then I carried my luggage up to my old bedroom, unpacked it and laid it on the bed for a bit, to revisit some old memories. After that, I just sort of wandered around the manor house for a bit. The quietness felt so lovely and tranquil, although staying in such a big house at night would probably get a bit creepy. I was a grown man, and I could handle it. My pleasant mood quickly soured as I came upon the stairway. I'd forgotten to mention how my aunt had died. She'd been found at the bottom of the stairs, battered and with a snapped neck. The autopsy had revealed alcohol in her system, so it was believed that she was walking down the stairs while drunk, slipped and broke her neck. I felt a bit uncomfortable now. The news of her death had come as a bit of a shock, and I was saddened quite heavily by it. I hadn't seen my aunt for quite a few years by the time of her death, but I still had tons of warm and happy memories of her. Despite her sometimes unpleasant behaviour, I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't miss my aunt. I tried to push away the melancholic thoughts in my head, and then I ascended the staircase. The manor was about three stories tall, and my aunt had used the third floor for storage mostly. But there were a few spare bedrooms up here as well. The attic was pretty big, but my aunt didn't go up there much because it was so cluttered. Some of the stuff up there dated back to the early 19th century from what my mother had told me. I'd have to go up there and look around for anything antique, anything I thought I could make some good money from. I ascended the stairway to the attic and opened the door. I was quite taken aback by the size of the attic and all of its clutter of boxes stacked to top each other, and the cobweb covered shelves. Well, it felt damn near maze-like. It was almost intimidating, but quite exciting at the same time. I couldn't wait to see what I could find up here. I stepped further into the attic and saw that the window was broken. Ah, son of a bitch, I huffed. I'd have to get that replaced, and quickly, didn't want birds nesting up here and crapping all over the valuables. I left the attic after giving it a once-over, and then decided to finally quench my curiosity about the greenhouse. I jogged back downstairs, out the front door, and to the garden, where lest sat the big greenhouse. I stared upon it with anxious anticipation, and then I slowly approached the doors and took hold of the handles. And the doors didn't budge. I quietly cursed as I realized that they were locked, and I had no idea where the key was. I scoped out the exterior of the greenhouse, trying to find another way in. One of the glass panels on the roof was broken, but it was too dangerous to go climbing around on the greenhouse. Well, as my aunt had said, it wasn't very structurally stable. Ah, my best bet was just to go and find the key. After my failed expeditionary attempt, I returned to my bedroom. I found my briefcase on the floor, my clothes strewn about. I distinctly remember leaving the briefcase on the bed. Ah, I must have slipped off. Maybe I put it just a bit too close to the edge. A few hours later, I had finished unpacking and getting my bedroom ready for my inhabitants of the manor house. I was feeling a bit too tired to cook, so I just ordered a takeaway. The weather had gone downhill by the time night rolled around. Pretty heavy rainstorm had erupted. Much to my annoyance, I discovered that the manor house had shoddy internet, and the storm was screwing with the television too. So in the end, I just went to bed. I will admit it. It was kind of spooky wandering through the dark hallways of the manor house, for knowing that I was completely alone inside of it. In such a big house like this, someone could sneak in and you'd be none the wiser. I was honestly kind of relieved when I finally made it to my bedroom, and though I felt a bit childish, I locked my bedroom door. Though I hated to admit it, I felt just a bit more secure with it locked. I was laying in my bed, reading a magazine. It was mostly quiet except for the rain rattling against the window and the wind bellowing. But then I heard a loud bump come from somewhere upstairs. It was so goddamn loud that I slightly jumped. It unnerved me for a second, but then rationality quickly took over. It was probably something up in the attic that got knocked over by the wind, because the window was broken. I hoped it wasn't anything of value. And I fell asleep shortly after that. The storm had passed by morning. The sun was out and the sky was mostly clear, but the wind had lingered. My girlfriend Zoe had arrived at the manor house around late morning. I'd also phoned a guy to come and replace the window in the attic, and he'd be arriving sometime around the afternoon. So until then, I thought I'd give Zoe a little tour of the manor house. Well, your aunt must have felt lonely living in this big-ass house all by herself, as Zoe said as she strolled down a corridor. Oh, she didn't really seem to be bothered by it whenever me and the folks visited her, I replied. Well, I couldn't live in this place all by myself. Zoe expressed to me as we entered the living room, and then she clapped onto the sofa. I can get a bit spooky in here at night, though, Zoe. I said as I joined her on the sofa. Yeah, I'd expect it to. Won't surprise me if the place is haunted, Zoe said jokingly. Oh, this is an old, old house. How long's it been around, Eric? Well, can't really say. My dad thinks he might date back to the late 1600s, maybe a bit earlier, I replied. Well, I'd never really studied the history of the manor house. I'd have to look it up for myself at some point. Then I heard the door open, then I heard the doorbell ring. It was likely the window repairman. I hauled myself from the chair and sauntered over to the front door and opened it. Well, the repairman was kind of greasy looking, and had a sweaty, unshaven face. He looked more like a stereotypical plumber than a window repairman, and he stunk of B.O. It frigging wafted from him like a pungent wave. I am. Here to sort the broken window out, the guy said, his voice raspy, like he smoked cigarettes like there was no tomorrow. Oh, well, yeah. Thanks for showing up. I'll show you the busted window. Just follow me, I replied. I led him into the house, and he caught sight of Zoe on the sofa. She your wife? He asked. No, she's my girlfriend, I replied. I wish I could get a girl that pretty, he juggled. I gave him a funny look, and he quickly quieted it down. Ah, sorry, man. Didn't mean to be weird. I'm just bad with conversations, he said. But just follow me up the stairs, I replied. Ah, this is one big house. It's like a damn mansion, the repairman said as we ascended the stairs. Yeah, it's a manor house, and it's been in my family for a good few generations. My aunt used to live here before she passed away. She left the house to me in her will, I replied. We then headed up to the attic, and the repairman seemed aghast at how cluttered it was. Jesus Christ! Your aunt was one hell of a background, he said. Oh, most of this stuff has been here since before she was even born. I responded as I let him over to the broken window. Right, let me just give it a look over and I'll see what I can do, said the repairman. Oh, um, why don't you step okay? Just be careful not to trip over the clutter, I replied. Ah, don't worry, I've worked in way more friggin' dilapidated places than this. My phone suddenly went off. It's my mother coin. I excused myself and exited the attic. I then went into one of the spare rooms for some added privacy. Hi, Eric. Sorry I couldn't call yesterday. How's the house? She asked. Well, it's been pretty nice so far, Mom. So we came over today, too. Been showing her around a bit. Have you spout on any of the pitches of Aunt Stelliott? Oh, Mom, don't be like that. I know she could be a bit of a bitch, but she's still your sister. Oh, trust me when I say this, Eric. If you'd grown up with her, you wouldn't have wanted her anywhere near you. I know she was all sunshine and kisses to you when you were little, but, hey, trust me, she was just putting on her face. She was a spoiled, nasty brat. Do you know what she did to me when I was a kid? She held my head under the bathwater until I almost freaking passed out. Jesus Christ, really, Mom? Oh, yes, Eric. Like I told you before, Stella has always been horrible. I'm genuinely starting to think that she never had a husband and a baby. I think she just made it all up as a stop story to try and get us to feel sorry for her. Trust me, Eric. Stella lied like it was no tomorrow. I also find it really suspicious that she only got back in touch with me after you were born. My mother explained. My mother's word sank into me. Maybe she was right about Aunt Stella all along. I've felt a bit creeped out now by how flawlessly my aunt had seemed able to change face. I was remembered seeing her be a raging wish at my mother, but then whenever she interacted with me she seemed like an angel of light who could do no wrong. But then again my mother could have been just letting her bitterness get the better of her. All siblings fought after all, and maybe Stella did genuinely have affection for me. I suddenly heard a series of loud bumps and the sound of something crashing upstairs. Oh, I'll have to call you back, Mom. I put my phone back in my pocket and rushed out of the spare room. The repairman must have knocked a bunch of stuff over. God, I hoped he hadn't broken anything antique up there. Eric! Eric! Come downstairs now! So he called me, her voice sounding urgent. I bolted down the stairs and found her waiting for me at the foot of them, and she looked panicked. It's the repairman. She led me to the back garden. The repairman was laying face down on the grass. His right leg looked like it had snapped, and the bone was sticking out of the skin. He must have fallen out of the window. She told me as she crouched by him and checked for a pulse. I grabbed my phone out of my pocket. Right, I'll call an ambulance. The paramedics arrived quickly. The repairman was still alive, but was in critical condition. We explained to them what had happened beforehand. Zoe was quite shaken up afterward, and we both agreed that it was probably best that she went home. I felt awful about what had happened. Sure, the guy was a bit off, but still, I wouldn't have wished injury on him without good reason. I should have cleaned up a bit in the attic before he arrived to make it safe for him to work up there. It was early evening now, and I'd gone into the kitchen to make dinner. I'd been looking forward to having dinner here tonight with Zoe, but that accident which was completely my fault had ruined it. I opened the pantry door and switched on the light. Several jars were smashed open on the floor, and a few of the boxes had been torn open, their contents also over the floor. I gritted my teeth. There must have been a rat infestation. Great. Just another item on my growing list of problems with this house. I'd caught the exterminator in the morning, because putting out rat poison just wasn't feasible because of the size of the house. Those little bastards had plenty of places to hide. I'd cleaned up the mess in the morning. I just made some spaghetti bolognese for dinner, washed a bit of TV, and was then about to go to bed. But I decided to check the attic out first. Maybe I could find what had caused the repairman to fall. I walked up the stairs to the attic and opened the door. I reached out into the darkness to switch on the light, but my fingers brushed up against something furry. I recoiled instantly and slammed the door, and then I heard something scurry away on the other side, and whatever it was, it sounded too big to be a rat. Maybe a fox or a badger had somehow gotten into the attic. Maybe that was why the repairman fell out of the window, and maybe it was the creature that raided my pantry too. Maybe I'd have to call animal control in place of an exterminator. I locked the attic door for good measure, and then I went off to bed. Once again I heard the bumps coming from the upstairs, but I wasn't as unnerved this time, because now I knew the source of the bumps. Yes, it was just some animal squatting in my attic. I woke the next morning to a dreary day. The sky was overcast and the wind had picked up again, but it still looked pretty dry outside. I got up out of bed and noticed that my closet door was open. Ah, must not have shut it properly last night. I walked to the door and also noticed that I'd not locked it last night either. I thought briefly unsettled me, but once again rationality quickly stomped it out. I was completely alone in this house. There was just some dumb animal in the attic, and that was all. I had breakfast and got washed up. I thought to have a walk around the manor grounds today, and probably take a walk in the woods next to the manor grounds. I put on my coat and my boots, and I walked out into the back garden. On the far side of the garden was a large fruit seller. I had completely forgotten that it was there. I needed to go and check it out. I strolled over to it and opened it up. Of course it was empty now, but when I was young my aunt Stella had kept some jars of nice fruit up on the shelves to gift to me. My mood soured at what used to be a happy memory as my mother's words from yesterday echoed in my mind. Did aunt Stella really love me? Or was she just doting on me to hurt my mother? Why could she hate her little sister so much as to do something as cruel as try to steal away her son's affection? I noticed something on the far wall of the cellar. In between two shelves and hidden behind a barrel was what looked like a small wooden door. I approached it and moved the barrel out of the way and unlatched the little door. I opened it, and my eyes widened. It was a small secret room. The only thing inside of it was a large wooden box. Atop this box was a frame picture of me and my aunt Stella. I was sitting on her lap with a giddy smile. Her pale face was lit up with a wide grin, her shaggy black hair flowing down her shoulders, her forehead hidden beneath thick bangs, and her juniper green eyes stared down at me on her lap with breathless affection. It just felt... wrong. There was an aura to her in this photo, an aura of possessiveness. I took the picture off of the box and placed it front down on the floor so that I didn't have to look at it any longer. Memories flashed in my mind. My aunt looming above me in my bedroom at night, embracing me with smothering excitement, whispering vicious lies about my mother and my grandparents into my ear, telling me that she was the only one who loved me. I shook the memories away and opened the box. There was a diary inside, and beneath this diary were several pieces of paper that had likely been torn out of the diary. My hand shaking slightly. I opened the diary and... yes, several of the pages were missing. The pieces of paper in the box had to be them. But why had she torn them out? I read through the entries, utterly horrified. My aunt had started the fire that killed my grandparents. She had written about how they had favoured my mother, giving her of everything while she was left all alone to rot in neglect. And to make matters worse, she had also been planning to kill my mother and father, so that she could gain custody of me and finally make her perfect little son. I threw the diary away. My god, she was freaking insane. I didn't believe any of the shit she'd written about my grandparents. No, my grandparents had never neglected her at all. As my mother had always told me, my aunt was a spoiled, vicious cow who'd raise hell if she couldn't have her way. She'd freaking killed her own parents in cold blood over what was likely just a little tantrum. She was a full grown woman when she'd done it too. Not to mention that she'd been freaking planning to kill my parents and forced me to be her son instead. God, why the hell was she so obsessed with me? I looked at the pages at the bottom of the box and took hold of them. What I read on them chilled me to my core and really, really showed me the depths of my aunt's depravity. My aunt had not been married, but she'd been in a relationship with a man. Well, she was having an affair more like and no one knew about it. The man was named Victor and he was set to be married to another woman. But Victor didn't love the woman and wanted instead to start a relationship with Stella. Well, she'd undoubtedly charmed him while hiding what she was really like. He'd gotten her pregnant and she'd given birth to Elias. Elias was born with a genetic deformity, but my aunt hadn't elaborated on what exactly it was. She'd only described him as looking like a stupid, freaking monkey. She wanted to get rid of Elias because he'd ruined her wish for a perfect family. But Victor wanted to keep him and run away with Stella for them to start a new life somewhere. But Stella went berserk and attacked him, stabbing him in the throat with an ice-pitch. And then she hid his body inside the greenhouse. So that was why she didn't want us going near it. Because no one knew about the affair, Victor's family had just assumed that he'd gotten cold feet and run away. Stella gloated about how his fiance had attempted suicide shortly after and spent much of her life in a mental institution. What had happened to Elias, I did not know. Because Stella had only written down that she'd thrown him into the jungle to be a stupid animal. So I just assumed that she'd either abandoned him or killed him and buried him in the woods by the manor house or somewhere else. All my hands were shaking. Cold sweat dripped all across my body. I needed to find my mother and tell her all about this, about how much of a disgusting monster her sister really was. But first I needed to go into the greenhouse and find Victor's body. Sure, I should have just phoned the police and told them, but I was unsure about whether they believed me or not. And I just wanted to feel, oh, some closure, I guess. All the horrible stuff I'd read in my aunt's diary had completely fried my brain. And I just wanted to make sure that it was all true. Goddamn, I felt sorry for Victor and especially Elias and my poor grandparents. I hope that Stella was rotting to nothing down in hell. I bitch deserved it big time. I left the fruit seller, went to the utility shed, and retrieved a shovel. I then went to the greenhouse and beat against the door with a shovel until it finally opened. I finally entered the place that had always been a mystery to me as a child. But now it was no longer a mystery. It was completely filled with exotic foreign plants, left to grow wild, completely cut off from the outside world. It was so overgrown and oddly warm that it truly felt like a section of jungle that had been pulled from the Amazon and then replanted on the English Heathland. The vegetation inside was just so thick that I felt it was impossible to locate where Stella had hidden Victor's body. I searched around for a few minutes, but in the end I just resigned to allow the authorities to comb the big greenhouse. I was about to head back to the door when I saw something on the ground. It was a magpie with a huge bite taken out of its torso. And that wasn't the only thing, as my eyes scrutinized the ground. I eventually found a large, very human footprint that definitely wasn't my own. And then I felt a terrifying realization begin to stir within me, but I tried to suppress it to no avail. I thought back to finding my briefcase open and my clothes scattered all about my room, and the bumps I'd heard upstairs at night, and the pantry being raided, and the repairman falling out of the window, my closet door being wide open when I had locked my bedroom door the night before, the furry thing that my hands had brushed against in the dark attic. And I recalled that time I'd seen something moving around in the greenhouse as a child. And then I remembered what Stellar had said in her diary of horrors, thrown him into the jungle to be a stupid animal. This greenhouse was very much a jungle. Oh my God! Elias wasn't dead. He was here, and he'd always been here. Oh God! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! I bolted to the door and slammed it shut and propped the shovel up against it to try and make a feeble little barricade, that I doubted would hold Elias back, if he was even still inside the greenhouse. I sprinted back into the house and then ran to my room to get my phone. I got to the doorway and stopped, dead, in my tracks. I saw two icy blue eyes staring at me from underneath my bed. Then a muscular hair-covered arm unfurled out from beneath the bed, his nails long, yellow and thick, and then Elias crawled out onto the floor and arose. My God! He was massive, well over six foot and had a very strong, wiry build. His body was completely covered in long, shaggy hair. His only item of clothing was a pair of filthy trousers. He just stood there, staring at me with his icy eyes. They were filled with contempt, hate and pained rage. Just mindless, desperate rage at everything, at the world, a world that he had been imprisoned from and forced to watch from the confines of his prison. I held my hands up in a likely futile attempt to calm the giant. Elias! She's dead. This horrible, horrible woman's dead. It's okay. She isn't around to hurt you anymore. Elias stared at the picture for a second, and then his mouth curled up into a vicious grin, revealing jagged yellow teeth. I looked into his blue eyes. He wasn't even looking at me at all. He was just standing there, grinning and staring at the picture of Stella, as if he was remembering something and savoring it. Then his eyes moved to me, and then to the picture. Then to me, and then to the picture again. His grin faltered and turned into a hateful scowl. Oh, shit! He charged at me. I dropped the picture and ran towards the stairs. I felt the bannister shake as Elias grabbed hold of it and charged up the stairs after me. I darted into the nearest room, tore open the door, leapt in and then locked it. I was in the manor library, and there was a phone in here too. I could hear Elias scream from behind the door, and it rumbled as he began to hit it. Fucking hell, he was strong. I doubted that door would hold much longer. I rushed to the phone and called the police. Why is your emergency? The responder asked. Yeah, I'm inside the Orion manor house, and I'm being attacked. I heard the door begin to splinter. I dropped the phone and hid behind one of the bookshelves. The door finally gave way, and Elias stomped into the library. His head darted around as he tried to locate me. He stalked over to the fireplace, crouched down and peered up it. I took the chance to bolt out from behind the bookcase and ran for the door. I sprinted to the door at the end of the small corridor, hearing Elias's heavy footsteps rapidly approaching. I toyed open, rushed through the doorway and slammed it shut and then locked it. Elias came up to the door, hid it a couple of times, but then went quiet. I heard him grumble a bit, and then he walked away. So either he'd given up the chase, or he was trying to find another way to get at me. I'd now entered the adjacent corridor. There were only two doors inside here. I tried the closest one. It was a small bedroom. I entered and locked the door and sat down on the bed. I felt safe, for now. The police should be arriving soon to sort this whole thing out. A shadow appeared at the window. Oh, God! It was freaking Elias. He was standing on something. Crap, I didn't realise this room was directly above the conservatory, and Elias must have climbed it. I jumped from the bed and ran for the door, just as I heard the window shatter. Luckily, I managed to unlock the door before Elias was able to fully get inside the room. I ran out of the room and towards the door I'd locked before. I went to unlock it, but I felt Elias's arms wrap around me and lift me from the floor. Oh, his grip was like steel. No matter how much I struggled, it didn't faze him one bit. He carried me over to the window and threw me out of it. I fell towards the conservatory and broke through the panelling. Luckily, my fall was broken by one of the deck chairs, but my right leg and my left shoulder had been torn up by the glass. I rolled from the chair onto the floor, and I was in absolute agony. My vision started to falter, and then I passed out soon after. When I awoke, I was still inside the conservatory, but now I was being tended to by a few paramedics. There was a lot of commotion around me. I could see a few armored police officers by the door, discussing something. One of the paramedics noticed that I'd awoken and signalled to a few others. I was put onto a gurney and rolled out to the nearest hospital. I was told that I'd lost quite a bit of blood, but that I was otherwise not too badly injured. My parents and my girlfriend arrived soon after. I told them all about what had happened, about Elias and about all of the horrible things Stella had done. My mother had turned pale white and just sat in the corner, completely listless for ages. I couldn't even begin to imagine what she was feeling. An officer showed up eventually to question me about what had happened. I told him about the diary, about Stella's crimes and about Elias and what she'd done to him. The police hadn't captured Elias. The officer told me that he was gone by the time they'd arrived at the manor house. It turned out that Elias had been born with Ambrus syndrome, also known as Werewolf syndrome. It's that genetic condition which causes extreme hair growth all over the body, except for the palms and soles. Apparently it had occurred a few times on my mother's side of the family, but never to the extent of Elias. Now I will say that I do not hate Elias. Yes, he tried to kill me and likely tried to kill the repairman, but at the end of the day he was the real victim in all of this. He wasn't a monstrous freak. He was just a man who had the bad luck of being stuck with a psychotic freak for a mother. This was all Stella's fault. She was the real monster in all of this. She'd been the one who locked Elias up from the outside world and forced him to be what he eventually became. My poor cousin never had a chance at all. I don't know where he is now, but a part of me secretly hopes that he can eventually be helped. Be allowed to be something else, instead of what Stella had forced him to be. But now, well, I think it's just too late. And so once again, we reach the end of tonight's podcast. My thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories and to you for taking the time to listen. Now, I'd ask one small favor of you. Wherever you get your podcast from, please write a few nice words and leave a five-star review as it really helps the podcast. That's it for this week, but I'll be back again same time, same place, and I do so hope you'll join me once more. Until next time, sweet dreams and bye bye.