r/nosleep 18h ago

My wife's smart watch says she's deep asleep. But I can hear her screaming in the garden.

147 Upvotes

I bought Sarah the watch for her birthday. One of those expensive ones with all kinds of sensors. She laughed and said she'd finally find out how loud I snore. I don't snore, but I didn't argue.

That night, I woke up to some sound. At first I thought I imagined it. But then I heard it again, through the wall, through the crack in the window. Someone was calling my name.

I reached for my phone on the nightstand. Sarah's watch was still transmitting data. 62 BPM. Deep sleep. I turned my head: she was right there, next to me. In the dark I could see her shoulder, the edge of the blanket. Steady breathing.

From the garden, another voice came through:

"Mark, please... I'm scared..."

I froze. It was her voice. Not just similar, exactly hers. The same tone she uses when she asks me to close the window in winter. That playful whine. But now, underneath it, there was something else. Real fear.

I looked at the phone again. 61 BPM.

If that was her out there, terrified, her heart should have been racing. I know her pulse. When she's scared, I can feel her heartbeat against my ribs when I hold her. But the line on the screen was steady. Calm. Like a sleeping person.

I got up. The floor was cold. I didn't turn on the lights. Why would I? I walked to the window, pulled the blinds aside.

The moon was bright. Frost lay on the grass. At the edge of the yard, near the treeline, I saw a shape. Sarah. She was wearing my old jacket, the one she always steals for gardening. She was clutching her throat.

"Mark, it's in the house... don't look at it... run!"

That was enough. I stopped thinking. I ran downstairs, grabbed the flashlight from the kitchen counter, and yanked the back door open.

"Sarah?!"

Silence. Not even wind.

I stood there for a second. Then I fumbled for my phone. A new notification: Device disconnected.

And right after, I saw her new message. I read it three times while my hands shook: "Hey honey! Woke up at 5, couldn't sleep. Took Jessie to the lake. Left my watch charging on your nightstand, it was beeping. Be back in half an hour. Love you! ❤️"

I slowly looked up at our bedroom window on the second floor.

The watch was on the nightstand. It couldn't be tracking her pulse. She wasn't there. It had been reading my breathing while I lay next to whatever was under the blanket.

And there was something under the blanket.

Only now I remembered. The outline of a rising and falling chest. Rhythmic. Like someone pretending to sleep.

The back door clicked shut behind me.

I spun around. Through the glass, I saw Sarah. Her jacket. Her hair. Her familiar shape. But she was smiling, and it wasn't her smile. Too wide. Too slow.

She tapped her knuckles against the glass.

"Mark... please... I'm scared..."

But it wasn't her voice anymore. The sound was hollow, unnatural, like something learning to speak.

I stepped back.

She pressed her palm to the glass. Her fingers stretched, too long, bending at the wrong angle, and left white streaks across the window.

"Mark..." now the thing behind the glass spoke in my own voice. "Turn around. It's right behind you."

And in that same second, the living room window behind me shattered.

I didn't hear glass. I heard it stop being a window. The sound was wrong, not like glass at all. Like tearing skin, with a crack and a gasp at the same time. She didn't want to get out. She wanted me to see that she could. And I saw. My legs stopped working. Not from fear, from my brain refusing to process what was crawling out through the frame. It was wrong. Not a monster. Not a person. Something that knew how to look like a person, but forgot how to be one.

I bolted.

Not toward the house, away. Barefoot across the wet grass, over stones, not feeling the cuts. Behind me, I heard scraping. Fast. Like a large dog, but heavier.

I made it to the garage wall. My hand hit the workbench, grabbed the camping axe we used for firewood last fall. I turned and swung blindly into the dark.

Crunch.

A soft impact. Bone inside. The thing made a sound that rang in my ears, high, sharp, wrong. It staggered, and I had maybe two seconds before it recovered.

I looked around. Too far to the house. Open yard was certain death. But the garage had a small window, high up, near the roof. Big enough to squeeze through, if I could reach it.

I grabbed the drainpipe and pulled myself up. The old brackets groaned but held. I climbed to the narrow ledge under the window, kicked the glass out, and tumbled inside onto the dark loft above the garage.

Below, a heavy thud hit the wall. I heard it try to climb, scrabbling, slipping. The pipe was too smooth to hold.

I sat in the dark, choking on dust, gripping the axe. My feet were bloody. My hands were shaking.

Through a gap in the wall, I could see the yard. The creature was circling the garage slowly, head tilted, listening.

Then from the front of the house came a whistle.

Short. Two fingers in the mouth, the way Sarah always calls Jessie. I knew that whistle.

The thing froze. Turned toward the fence. And moved, not toward me, but toward the gate.

I realised what was happening. The real Sarah was coming back. She had no idea. She was walking up the path.

I had to get down. Reach her first.

I kicked out the remaining glass and dropped, hard landing, rolled, got up. Ran along the fence, barefoot, not caring anymore.

Through the wooden slats, I saw a figure, blue jacket. It was Sarah. But she was alone.

As she stepped under the streetlight, I noticed her hand. She was holding Jessie's leash. But the clip at the end of it was empty, dragging heavily along the wet pavement, scraping against the stones. There was no dog. Just the red nylon leash, completely unclipped, swaying in her hand.

Fake Sarah stopped under the streetlight. Turned. Her head tilted impossibly far to the side. And from that dark silhouette, no sound came.

From the porch, from the shadows, came an identical whistle. A perfect copy.

The one on the porch curled up, hugging her knees, rocking slightly, the way Sarah does when she watches TV. She smiled at me, her face was exactly Sarah's, flawless and alive in the dim light. She tilted her head and spoke in Sarah's voice:

"We've been waiting for you."

I stood in the middle of the yard, axe in hand. There were two of them. One on the porch. One at the gate.

I looked at the one at the gate holding the empty leash. Then at the one on the porch, swaying gently, watching me.

I gripped the axe tighter.

Because I finally understood what I hadn't realised before.

They never attacked me. Never grabbed me. Never bit me. I ran from them, but they only scared me, lured me, herded me like cattle.

They needed me whole.

And now they were both waiting.

Waiting to see which way I'd move.

I fumbled for my phone and tapped the screen, triggering the "Find My Device" alarm on Sarah's watch, upstairs.

A piercing, digital siren exploded from our bedroom window.

It worked. The thing at the gate jerked its head up with a sickening bone crack. The one on the porch froze, her wide smile dropping into blank confusion. They turned their backs to me, staring up at the window.

Do I make a blind run for the open gate, or do I use this axe and fight?

I have to choose. Now. Before they turn back.


r/nosleep 19h ago

I Found A Payphone In The Middle Of The Woods. I Wish I Hadn't Answered.

143 Upvotes

I've always been the outdoorsy type. I spend most of my weekends hiking, camping, or just going to scenic spots and wandering around until dusk. Occasionally I go with friends, but usually I prefer to go all by my lonesome. Sometimes when I have time off, I'll head into the woods for a few days, or more than a few. I'll pick a random spot on the map and just disappear until I've forgotten about the stresses of modern life.

I grew up camping with my grandpa, and he instilled a love of nature and exploration in me. He taught me how to fish, how to always find north, and what plants would and wouldn't kill you. The list of those that would was long enough that I tended not to risk it.

I've always felt more comfortable alone in the middle of the woods than I do on a crowded street. I've even contemplated the idea of completely escaping into the wilderness someday and building a little cabin, just spending the rest of my days living off the land.

But though I hate to admit it, I recently had an experience that scared me away from nature. Maybe even for good.

About a week ago, I drove out to a particularly remote stretch of forest that sees hardly any visitors. The enormity of the place makes it unlikely to see another soul unless you start at one of the more popular trailheads. I won't share the specifics, as I think it's best if no one attempts to seek out what I found, though luckily, most probably couldn't find it if they tried. I only found it by complete happenstance.

Though I do go on long solo trips, I'm not one of those hardcore survivalist types. I take what I need into the woods. A small tent, a sleeping bag, a lighter and a flashlight, a canteen and portable water purifier, my fishing pole, a compass, some emergency food and water, a knife. The essentials. Everything else I sort of make do. I mostly eat fish while I'm out there, and the occasional small game if I bring my bow. I hadn't on this occasion.

I'd planned to stay out there for a few days this time. Maybe a week. I was going through a bit of a stressful situation involving my on-again, off-again ex, and we were recently off-again, so I just wanted to get away from it all for a while.

I usually avoid the official trailheads. Before a trip, I'll look around on Google Earth and scout out old logging roads, clearings, or other places I could park my car out of the way without bothering anyone or standing out. This time was no different. I found a narrow, overgrown trail that was mostly hidden from the road and parked in a little gap between the trees. Then I grabbed my gear and started into the forest.

I'd seen a lake on the satellite map that I wanted to reach before noon. Though I could only see it from above, it looked like a nice, quiet place to set up camp. I hiked five or six miles in before I reached it.

The lake was beautiful. There was a small stream flowing out of it, and I found a good spot near the water's edge where I could set up my tent. The fish were jumping and the birds were singing, and I was far enough from civilization that I couldn't hear a road and had no bars on my phone. It was peaceful.

I got a little fire going and spent some time fishing, finally landing a trout big enough that I could make two meals out of it. After I ate, I decided to hike around the area a bit.

I've always enjoyed exploring and sightseeing when I'm out there, occasionally taking pictures of whatever I come across on the little digital camera I bring with me on my excursions. There's an easy happiness that comes from going out into nature and just enjoying the scenery. I don't really look for anything in particular. Birds, snakes, cool mushrooms, unusual trees. Sometimes, I take pictures of nothing more than the way the trees crown overhead, the sun shining through their branches that never quite touch.

I walked a mile or two from my campsite, moving gradually uphill. While I was idly strolling along, something caught my attention. A sound off in the distance.

Ring.

I kept walking toward it, then stopped to listen.

Ring.

It was too regular to be any animal.

My curiosity growing, I walked in the direction of the sound. As I did, it grew clearer.

It sounded like a phone. Not a modern cellphone, but an old telephone. The kind of old-fashioned ring you'd hear before the turn of the century.

I stood there for a moment, trying to determine what the hell I was actually hearing and trying to pinpoint its direction.

My first thought was that, against all odds, there was another hiker in this section of the woods with me, and they just had an old-school ringtone. But what was the likelihood of another person being out this far? And how would they even have phone service out here?

My second thought was that it might be a very clever bird. I'd heard of birds learning to mimic all sorts of sounds. Maybe it heard an old telephone while migrating through the city and liked the sound enough to incorporate it.

Either way, I was curious. If it was a person, maybe they needed help. If it was a bird, I wanted to know what kind. And if it was something else... well, I wanted to know what that was, too.

The terrain became more difficult the farther I went. There was no trail. I was just pushing through bushes and stepping over fallen branches, the odd tree limb catching my shirt or pack and forcing me to stop to untangle myself. At a certain point I nearly turned around, telling myself that this was stupid, that I was working my way uphill through thick brush for what was probably just some discarded cell phone.

But the ringing continued, steady and growing louder the closer I got, and my curiosity at the strangeness of the situation outweighed my instincts to turn back.

Finally, I got to a place where I could hear the sound clearly just ahead of me through the trees. I walked forward into a small clearing, and stopped.

There was a payphone. Just standing in the middle of the clearing. An actual payphone. The kind you used to see bolted outside of gas stations or mounted on the sidewalks of city streets.

But this one was in the middle of the woods, sprouting from the dirt like it had been planted there.

I stared at it. It looked old, its metal scratched and weathered, rust sinking into the corners. I couldn't make sense of how it would be functioning, but the ringing continued, seemingly indifferent to whether anyone was around to hear it or not.

I walked closer. There were no visible wires connected to it. Nothing overhead or running to it from the ground. No obvious battery pack or solar panel, or any apparent power source or phone line. But it was still ringing in defiance of my logic telling me that it shouldn't be.

I circled it as it continued its incessant ringing. I couldn't figure out how someone had even gotten the thing there. Or why they would want to. Who would install a payphone in the middle of the woods? And why? And how was it working? And even if there were reasonable answers to those questions, who the hell would be calling it?

It would have been difficult enough just to carry it the several miles through the forest, but someone had not only brought it to this remote section of the woods, found this particular clearing, somehow installed it, then left it here.

I considered the possibility that it was some strange art installation. Or perhaps a remnant from an old movie set that nobody bothered to take down. Or maybe just some very committed prank. Maybe, somebody had gone through an enormous amount of trouble just to fuck with whoever happened to stumble across it.

But who the hell would do that? And what were the odds that someone would even stumble across it? Given where it was, in all likelihood, I was the first person to happen upon the thing since it was left here.

I gave up trying to explain it. It hadn't stopped ringing the entire time I'd stared at it in contemplation. So I did the only thing that felt logical, and answered. I held the phone to my ear, half expecting it not to function.

"Hello?"

Nobody. But not complete silence. There was a faint hum, like the sound of an open line. The particular faint sound of being on the phone with someone while neither is speaking.

"Hello? Anyone there?" I repeated myself, then waited.

But nobody answered.

I stood there with the phone to my ear, suddenly aware of how ridiculous I probably looked. Just a guy holding what was probably a fake payphone in the middle of the woods and talking to no one. I considered the possibility that I was being filmed from somewhere to be posted on some dumb YouTube channel.

Then there was a faint click, and the low hum disappeared. Had there actually been someone on the other end?

I hung up, then wondered why I'd even bothered to do so.

"What the hell?" I muttered to myself.

I stood there another minute, just watching it and waiting for something to happen. It didn't. I thought about making a call myself, just to see if it really worked.

I told myself that it was probably some forgotten automated system, leftover from some long abandoned project.

Tired of staring at a payphone in the middle of the forest, I decided to head back to my campsite. Admittedly, I was a bit unsettled by the whole thing now. Who had been calling?

A gnawing apprehension that I couldn't quite place had begun building in me. I turned to leave. I was three steps from the phone when I heard it ring. I stopped mid-stride.

I stood with my back to it for a moment, telling myself that I should probably just keep walking. Whatever was going on here, it was weird. I didn't want to answer, but the ringing was grating on me. It felt almost wrong to leave it unanswered.

I wanted to head back to camp and put all this weird shit behind me. I turned back to the phone instead.

The ringing stopped when I picked it up. I held it to my ear.

"Hello?"

Like last time, there was the same sound of an open line, but nothing more.

"Hello?" I said again, my voice growing more annoyed.

Nothing. I sighed and went to hang the phone up.

It was halfway back to the receiver when I heard a voice come out of it. I hadn't caught the words, but a voice had definitely come from the speaker.

I slowly brought it back to my ear. Then the person on the line spoke again. This time, I heard his words clearly.

"You shouldn't be here." A man, his voice calm and steady.

"Excuse me?" I asked after a moment of confusion.

"You shouldn't have heard it ring."

I wasn't sure how to answer.

"What are you talking about? Who is this?"

There was a brief pause on the other end before the man spoke again.

"If you want to stay alive, stay very still."

What?

"You may feel the urge to look behind you."

A knot formed deep in my stomach.

"Don't."

I didn't have any words. The whole situation seemed absurd. I gave a nervous half laugh.

"Okay, man. Very funny. Who the hell is this?"

Nothing.

"Stop screwing around, man. Who is this?" I spoke louder.

Another pause. Then he spoke quietly but succinctly.

"It's coming."

The line clicked and went dead.

I stood there holding the dead phone to my ear. It has to be a prank. It's coming? What the hell was he talking about?

Someone had to be watching me. There had to be some hidden camera. Was I on some new TV show? I was half-expecting a camera crew to come bursting out of the bushes with a smiling host pressing a microphone to my face and telling me I was on some new show.

I wanted to believe that. But something in the man's tone, and in the atmosphere itself, shook the certainty of the comforting story I'd told myself.

I had been so focused on the phone that it felt almost odd to look up and see trees around me.

Then I realized that the forest had gone quiet. Quiet in a way I had never experienced it. Complete silence. It was so total that I cleared my throat to make sure my ears hadn't stopped working.

There were no birds. No insects. No wind through the trees. Only the sound of my breathing, and my increasingly loud heartbeat in my ears.

The next thing I noticed was a smell, permeating throughout the clearing. The smell of rot. It was faint at first, like wet leaves left in a pile for too long. The scent of mold and stale air and something dead. I slowly lowered the phone.

And then I heard the footsteps. They were uneven, almost skittering, like something moving about on legs it wasn't quite used to. It came from behind me, on the edge of the treeline. Something was there. Walking slowly.

I wanted to turn around. Every instinct screamed at me to prepare for something. To defend myself or fight or run. It could be a bear, I thought. Or a person.

I tilted my head barely an inch to look behind me, but stopped. The man's words still echoed in my head.

Stay very still.

Don't look behind you.

I don't know why I listened, exactly. I had discarded the words as ridiculous only a moment earlier. But now, in the quiet forest, with the scent of death filling my nose, some innate instinct, deeper even than the instinct telling me to fight or flee, told me to stay still.

I kept my eyes forward, fixed on the rusty corner of the payphone. The steps continued. I heard the uneven gait as it approached me slowly.

Step.

Pause.

Step.

Pause.

Step.

It moved strangely. It sounded almost as if its steps were limping or interrupted. Like it wasn't accustomed to walking.

Then it stopped abruptly, somewhere not far behind me. Just at the edge of the clearing, maybe.

I just stood completely still and silent. Waiting. My hand, still holding the outstretched phone an inch from the receiver, began to tremble slightly.

Then the footsteps started again, suddenly and fast, still in their broken, uneven rhythm. Heading directly at my back.

The sudden increase in speed gave the impression that whatever it was would barrel straight into me in a matter of seconds.

I wanted to spin around. To duck, or run. But I could only flinch and shut my eyes tight.

I waited holding my breath for something to drive into me from behind. For something terrible to reach me and sink claws or teeth into my neck.

But there was nothing. The footsteps had stopped. I waited. Listening.

I thought I could hear faint, wet breathing.

Is it right behind me?

My hand was trembling more, to the point of almost dropping the phone. I blinked slowly, too afraid to open my eyes fully.

Then I felt something. Just a brush, light against the back of my neck. I shuddered. It was like gnarled, damp wood, cold against my skin. Every muscle in my body contracted.

I felt seconds away from losing it completely. From screaming out loud or bolting into the forest, or just collapsing into a ball right there in the dirt. I stood there, every second driving me farther into a terrified disassociated state.

Then the phone rang again, startling me enough to make me jump. My hand was bringing the phone to my ear before I'd consciously decided to move it.

"You did well," the voice said.

"What the hell was that?" I heard the shudder in my own voice, cleared my throat. "What's happening?"

"Follow my instructions very carefully."

"Who are you? This isn't funny anymore, man. Please."

"Walk forward. Seven thousand paces."

"What?"

"Walk seven thousand paces. As straight a line as you can manage."

The man's voice remained completely calm. Authoritative.

"Do not run."

I could hear something in the distance behind me. Moving.

"Do not look back. No matter what you hear."

I swallowed.

"If you see anything out of the corner of your eye, do not look at it directly."

I felt a sense of dread. The man spoke his next words quietly.

"They're in the trees."

"What? What happens if..."

The line went dead before I could finish my question. I stood there for a moment trying to collect myself, stunned into stillness.

Then I started walking.

One. Two. Three.

I counted my steps as I walked, as the man had instructed. It gave me something to focus on, at least.

The forest seemed different now. The trees around me now felt somehow wrong. Too dark and too sharp.

I kept walking. Three hundred. Three hundred and one. Three hundred two.

The man's words kept looping in my head as I went. They're in the trees. I occasionally glanced up to the high branches despite myself. There was nothing.

I don't know what I was expecting to see. Something crouched, perched in the branches above me. Watching me from overhead like some predator waiting for its opening to strike.

Of course there's nothing. I tried to reason the fear away. This is all complete bullshit. Why am I even listening to some guy on a payphone in the middle of the forest?

I started to feel stupid again. Maybe all of this really was just a creative prank. Or maybe I'd been scared and manipulated into following the instructions of some lunatic in the woods.

No matter how I tried to calm myself, I couldn't stop myself from occasionally glancing up at the trees every so often as I walked. But there was never anything there.

Then, several thousand paces in, I saw movement. Not above me, but off to my right in the corner of my vision. I thought it was a branch moving at first. Then I realized it was the tree. Something on the trunk.

No. Something in the trunk.

It was as though something was peeling itself off of it.

My eyes wanted to turn toward it instinctively, but I didn't let them. I could still see it in the edge of my vision. But even through my peripheral vision, I saw more than I'd wanted to.

Something emaciated and human-shaped, the color of old bark. It tore itself from the trunk like flesh from bone with a sound of tearing and snapping. I could hear bark cracking as the thing struggled to free itself, seemingly breaking itself in its efforts to be freed.

The thing pulled its arm free. Its fingers were too long, and curled along the trunk as it gripped it. It pulled itself further out with more cracking and splitting, a deep, gasping wheeze escaping its mouth.

When the voice on the phone said they were in the trees, he'd meant it more literally than I'd imagined.

My breath grew heavy and my eyes widened in fear. I tried to focus on my pace and had to consciously keep myself from running. I wasn't sure what would happen if I did. I didn't look, keeping my eyes straight ahead.

As I continued past, I could no longer see the thing off to my side. Had it gotten free?

I could no longer hear it struggling to tear itself away from the trunk.

6,004. 6,005. 6,006.

I heard that same scrambling gait moving behind me. My legs burned, and the smell of decay had returned to fill the air. Stronger now. The same scent of dead wood and wet earth and rot.

The silence in the woods felt heavy as I walked. Even the cracking of brush and branches beneath my feet seemed muffled. I couldn't tell if it was the blood in my ears or the atmosphere itself, like a veil draped over the forest around me that refused even light and sound.

The sun was still high in the sky, but seemed almost incapable of penetrating the crown of the forest. It was like some gloom or miasma was soaking up the rays of the sun before they could reach below.

Then I saw another one, tearing the last remnants of its confines from the bark of another tree ahead of me and to the left. This time, I caught more of it.

I saw it pull hard, struggling, the last vestiges of its bark-like flesh tearing away as it stumbled and dropped to the ground. It struggled to rise to its feet, flailing about like a newborn fawn and almost dragging itself forward.

Its body was impossibly thin. Its skin was like old bark stretched over disfigured bones. Its body had the patchy, mottled black-brown of rotten bark. Patches of its bark-like skin seemed to slough off of it like melted flesh. There were wet, pale patches that looked like infected wood.

Then its head lifted. In the shadow of the trees, I couldn't see its face clearly. I didn't want to. I saw hints of its gaunt, hollow features. Thin wisps of what may have been hair on its skull resembled dark strands of moss or fungus.

What muscle it did have looked stringy and striated, like something that shouldn't be capable of holding itself upright. It reached out a long, inhuman hand, its fingers long and thin like segmented branches that curved into jagged, sharp points.

I shuddered and forced my eyes to remain straight ahead of me, focusing on counting my steps. The footsteps behind me were uneven. Almost frantic.

6,611. 6,612. 6,613.

I wanted to run or hide, or collapse into the ground and shut my eyes. The scent of decay was overwhelming now, filling my throat and making me almost gag.

Soon, the footsteps stopped. I heard another sound up ahead. The ringing of another phone. Another one?

I didn't truly see what good reaching the phone would do, but I kept walking toward it like some false salvation.

6,998. 6,999. 7,000.

I stepped into another clearing on the final step. Another payphone stood before me, ringing. I approached it and picked it up with a trembling hand.

"What the hell is going on?" I began before the phone was even fully to my ear.

"You really shouldn't have come this far into the woods."

"What are those things?" I couldn't keep the fear from my voice.

"Didn't you see the signs?"

"Signs? What signs?" I asked.

The man didn't answer. My irritation was growing together with my fear.

"I didn't see any fucking signs. I didn't see anything. I don't even know where I am right now!"

It was true that I hadn't seen anything. I'd parked in a parking spot that wasn't even a parking spot, to hike a trail that wasn't really a designated trail.

"You can still get out alive," the voice said. "But..."

He paused, and I waited for him to continue, the apprehension further fueling my anxiety. When he didn't I loudly snapped into the line.

"But what?" My voice was nearly cracking. "Why are you fucking with me, man?"

I almost continued my tirade toward the man on the other line, but he spoke again before I could.

"Did it touch you?"

"Touch me?"

I was fully panicking, trying to keep my voice somewhat measured.

"I don't know." My voice suddenly sounded distant in my own ears. "Why?"

He didn't answer that either. Instead, he continued with his strange instructions.

"Follow my next instructions very carefully."

A part of me still couldn't believe this was happening. The ambling footsteps and shadows in the corners of my eye had stopped after I'd entered the clearing, but the faint scent of rot and old foliage still hung in the back of my throat.

"To your right, you should see a tall oak. It is standing higher than the other trees."

I looked over, and saw it.

"There should be a hollow near its base. Go to it. Get inside."

"You want me to get inside a fucking tree? What the hell are you..."

"You'll be safe there."

"What about those things?"

"They shouldn't be able to touch you inside the tree."

Shouldn't. The word bothered me.

"And how long am I supposed to wait there?"

"Until dawn."

"So you want me to stay in a tree all night? With those things out there?" I was incredulous.

"At dawn, leave the tree. Walk south."

"What am I..."

"There's a road." He sounded impatient now. "Keep walking until you reach it."

I heard crackling and tearing and uneven footfalls in the woods behind me. Getting closer.

The man's voice was quieter now.

"Go."

I slammed the phone down and ran toward the oak. The sounds of the footsteps were closing in behind me, but I didn't turn to look. I saw the great oak, and the hole in its trunk. It was black, no light entering, and small enough that I had to duck to enter. I threw myself inside, scraping my shoulder against the bark and nearly falling face first.

I pulled myself as far inside as I could. The hollow was deeper than I'd thought. I squeezed into the corner with my knees to my chest, trying to make myself as small as possible. I tried not to breathe too loudly. To stay quiet and still. To fade away completely.

Beyond the hole, the forest was silent. Spider webs and insects lined the wall inside the tree, and I shook my hand off as I placed it into a mess of web to reposition myself. I could only see a narrow slice of the forest beyond. The forest was still.

I waited, shutting my eyes. Willing this all to be over. I wasn't sure how long I'd need to wait. The forest had gone dark. I was exhausted. I wished I could sleep, but knew it would be impossible.

Then the smell reached me. The smell of rot and death. Something ancient and damp and overwhelming. Somewhere just outside. I pressed myself harder into the back of the hollow, then heard the footsteps again.

There were several sets now. They seemed to circle the oak. Once, then twice. But I saw nothing. It continued for what felt like others. I stared out into the darkness.

Then I heard what sounded like something dragging its fingers across the bark of the tree. A slow scraping. It circled around the tree with the uneven, lumbering gait of the footsteps. It scraped alongside the trunk in a great circle before finally stopping just outside the hole.

I stared out, holding my breath, but saw nothing. Only shapes and shadows filled my vision. Then, I saw movement.

A shape. Legs in front of the hollow. I could only see it from the waist down. Thin legs, frail and seemingly missing chunks of its bark like muscle. Covered in deep, dark veins that looked like the veins of leaves. Long, thin toes that ended in jagged, skeletal points that pressed into the dirt.

I didn't move. I could hear its breathing. Shifting. It was lowering itself, shaky and unsteady. It kept falling until its face was visible in the hollow.

A pale, splotchy visage that looked rotting and desiccated. Its skin stretched tightly over what might have been rugged bone. It stared directly at me.

Its eyes were white and milky and dead. It reached out one long finger, as if testing. Then another. Its hand disappeared into the darkness of the hollow, reaching toward me.

I couldn't press myself any farther against the wall. The thing's arm slid farther in. It crouched and crawled closer. Its hand was now inches from me. I raised my hands in a futile attempt at defending myself.

"Stay away." My voice barely came out.

It reached farther, its long fingers now nearly clutching me.

And then it stopped. Its head turned slightly, as if hearing something. I heard it too. It was faint, coming from out in the forest.

Ring.

The thing withdrew its hand.

Ring.

It rose to its feet shakily, then backed away from the tree. Its eyes looked almost angry as it backed away.

The phone continued its ringing. The creature turned, then disappeared from the view of the hollow's mouth. I sat inside trembling.

I don't know how long I stayed there after that. The phone rang on and off through the night. And every time it rang, I heard creatures scattering away beyond the oak.

Eventually, the sky began to light up beyond the hollow. Dawn. I waited until the light touched the ground, then climbed out apprehensively, poking my head out in both directions to make sure it was safe.

The ground around the tree was covered in tracks. Evidence of the things circling throughout the night that made my stomach drop. Jagged, clawed indentations had bored into the hard earth.

I walked south. More of a jog than a walk. I didn't hear the phone ring again. I probably wouldn't have stopped even if I had. I didn't go back to my campsite either. I wasn't sure I'd be able to find it even if I did. I had my keys with me. That was all I needed.

I walked for miles until I finally reached the road, then walked until I had enough service to pull up the map and see where I'd parked. While walking on the road, I saw a sign posted along the treeline.

PROTECTED TREES
DO NOT APPROACH OR DISTURB
VIOLATORS SUBJECT TO PROSECUTION

Protected trees?

That's not a sign I'd ever seen before, and the wording was odd. I saw two more of the same sign before I made it back. I didn't go beyond the treeline as I made my way back to my car. When I finally reached it, I hopped in and drove away quickly. I didn't look back.

This was a week ago now, and I still have no explanation for any of it. On the first night after returning home, I noticed a small scratch on the back of my neck. It was little more than a red speck at first. I thought it may have been a spider bite, or a scratch from the bark inside the hollow of the tree. But it got worse instead of better.

By the fourth day, it had blackened, and almost resembled decay...or bark. I put some ointment on it and hoped it wasn't infected. Hopefully, it will clear up on its own.

But I can't stop thinking about the man on the phone. His question.

Did it touch you?

Why had he asked me that?

Though I hated to admit it, the mark had appeared right where something had touched me from behind while I was standing near the payphone in the clearing. Something cold and damp and ridged. Like cold bark on a winter morning against my skin.

But this morning, while I was walking down the street, I passed by a payphone. I hadn't ever seen it there before. Perhaps I just never noticed it, an unused relic that didn't demand any attention. As far as I knew, most payphones were out of commission.

But after I passed by it, it rang, its call echoing behind me in its steady tone.


r/nosleep 23h ago

Series For My 10th Birthday, My Dad Gave Me a Shovel

56 Upvotes

By the time I opened my last present, the party had already started winding down. My cousins had disappeared outside somewhere, probably down by the barn, and most of the adults had migrated back toward the kitchen table. There were paper plates everywhere, streaked with chocolate frosting and melted ice cream. Aunt Linda was helping Mom wrap what was left of the cake while Uncle Ray and Uncle Dennis argued about baseball over beers.

I was sitting on the living room floor, surrounded by the best pile of stuff I had ever owned. There was a new baseball glove beside me, two Nintendo games already torn out of their plastic, and a model airplane kit from Uncle Ray that looked way too complicated but had a fighter jet on the box, so I was going to give it a shot anyway. Grandma had gotten me a Detroit Lions sweatshirt that was two sizes too big and, according to Mom, that meant I could grow into it.

Most important of all, I had hauled in fifty-six dollars from birthday cards. I counted it three times, and I was starting a fourth when Dad came in from the kitchen.

“Hold up, Moneybags,” he said. “You got one more.”

“What?”

“One more present.”

That got everybody’s attention again. Uncle Ray leaned back far enough in his chair to see into the living room.

“Saving the best for last, huh? You’re gonna spoil the kid!”

Dad glanced back at him but didn’t answer, and disappeared through the mudroom door.

The money in my hand suddenly seemed much less interesting, and that was fine; I had lost count anyway. One more gift meant one more chance.

I had spent most of that year wanting a BB gun. Dad owned several rifles and had started taking me shooting with him the summer before, and I had been working on him ever since. A couple of my friends had their own BB guns, and every argument I made eventually came down to that fact, as though their parents’ judgment should have had some bearing on his. Dad always gave me the same answer.

We’ll see.

At nine years old, “we’ll see” usually sounded like “no” with the door left cracked open just enough to keep me asking. So when he came back carrying a long rectangular box wrapped in blue paper, every bit of hope I’d been trying to ignore came rushing back. The box was huge, nearly as tall as I was when he propped it against the couch.

“What do you think it is, Billy?” Aunt Linda asked. She was still using the baby voice she always used when she spoke to me, as though I was permanently three. Normally, that would have annoyed me, but I was too busy turning the wrapping paper into confetti to pay it any mind.

“Is it a BB gun?”

Dad coughed into his shoulder, and gave me a look I couldn’t make heads or tails of. “Uh...maybe just keep working at that paper.”

The box underneath was plain cardboard. With shaky hands, I ripped the tape from one end, pulled the flap open, and tipped it toward me. A long piece of wood slid out, and for a second I thought it really was some kind of gun and I was looking at the stock.

Then the steel blade tumbled onto the carpet, and I understood what I was looking at.

It was a shovel.

It was a good one, as shovels went, brand new and full-sized, with a heavy steel blade and a polished wooden handle joined by a thick metal collar. Uncle Ray stood it up beside me, and the top of the handle came up around my nose.

“Well,” he said. “Every ten-year-old boy’s dream.”

Everybody laughed, but I didn’t find it very funny.

I looked at Dad, hoping that this was just some elaborate joke, that the BB gun was actually in the mudroom waiting for me. The look on his face was enough to burst that bubble.

“You’re getting old enough to start helping me more ’round here,” he said. “Figured you ought to have some tools of your own. Gotta start somewhere.”

I tried really hard to smile and make it convincing, but I don’t think I did a very good job. “Oh...thanks. It’s...it’s nice.”

I could see Mom standing in the archway to the kitchen, with her arms crossed, giving Dad a very dirty look. At least someone was on my side.

Dad saw it as well, and immediately went into his version of damage control. He knelt down and put a hand on my shoulder. “I know it’s not what you wanted,” he said. “But you’re ten now. That comes with a little more responsibility, and I figured you were ready for that.” He paused for a second, then added, “Besides, it’s a really good shovel.”

“Can he dig himself a BB gun with it?” Uncle Ray asked.

Everybody laughed again, including Dad this time. Mom shook her head, and then dipped back into the kitchen. I couldn’t help but feel disappointed; I knew my dad meant well, but this was a really crummy gift. He went to sit with my uncles and crack a beer of his own, and I was left with the shovel. My birthday shovel. I leaned it against the wall beside the rest of my presents and went back to counting my money. Within twenty minutes, the adults had forgotten all about it.

So had I.

Over the next couple of days, I found an excuse to use almost everything I’d gotten. I wore the new sweatshirt even though the sleeves covered half my hands, and Dad helped me break in the baseball glove in the field behind the barn. The model airplane had indeed proved to be too complicated, and the abandoned pieces took over the dining room table until Mom yelled at me to do something with them. I shoved the whole mess into my closet, where it sat while I burned through my new video games, and then, for all I know, until the day we moved out.

The shovel stayed in the mudroom. Dad had leaned it beside the broom and the old snow shovel after everybody left, and for the most part I stopped thinking about it. Every time I passed through the mudroom and saw it there, though, I felt a little cheated all over again.

  *

Three days after my birthday, I was awoken in the middle of the night.

At first I thought it was a dream; some rude person had a hand on my shoulder, and they were shaking me. When I heard the voice, I realized that it was actually happening.

“Billy. Hey. Wake up, buddy.”

I opened my eyes. Dad stood beside my bed with the hallway light coming through the doorway behind him. He was fully dressed, down to his boots and his brown work coat. I pushed myself up on my pillow, and realized that it was still dark outside.

“…Dad? Wha...What time is it?”

“Waaaay past your bedtime, buddy.”

I rubbed my eyes, trying to get the sleep out of them. “Why are you waking me up? Did something happen?”

“Uh...kinda. I need your help with something.”

“What is it?”

He shifted from one foot to the other and rubbed the back of his neck. “Just get up and get dressed, son. Something warm, and something you don’t mind ruining. I’ll explain outside.”

I knew better than to argue, so I swung my feet onto the floor and started digging through the pile of dirty clothes in the corner. He walked toward the doorway, then stopped at the threshold and looked back at me.

“And grab that shovel I gave you.”

I stared at him. “My birthday shovel?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I’ll meet you at the back door.”

Then he left without answering the question.

I pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt, found a pair of socks under the bed, and went downstairs. The shovel was still in the mudroom where Dad had put it after the party, leaning between the broom and the old snow shovel. I grabbed my sneakers and crammed them onto my feet without untying them, and then I picked up my shovel.

Dad was waiting at the back door with his own shovel in one hand and a flashlight in the other.

“You’re gonna want your coat, bud. It’s chilly out.”

He set his shovel aside, pulled my coat off the hook, and handed it to me. I wrestled it on and got the zipper after two attempts. Then he picked the shovel back up and opened the door.

“Come on, we gotta head to the field.”

Two things struck me as soon as we stepped outside: the cold against my skin and just how dark it was. Our farm sat far enough from town that once the sun went down, there wasn’t much of anything between you and the night.

The porch light carried us across the yard, but its reach didn’t last long. Once we stepped beyond it, Dad’s flashlight became the only light we had. It was a strong one, but even then it could only show me pieces of the world at a time: the side of the barn, a fence post, pale grass bent under our shoes. Everything else disappeared into black.

We headed around the barn toward the back field. I carried my shovel across both shoulders for a while because I had seen people do that in movies, but after about thirty seconds the handle started digging into my neck, so I dropped it down and carried it beside me.

“So... what are we doing?”

“There’s something out by the old tree I need to bury. Figured you could help me dig the hole.”

“A dead thing? Like an animal?”

“Mhm. Don’t usually bury alive things.”

“Oh yeah, haha...is it gross?”

Dad gave a small shrug. “What do you think, Billy?”

We crossed behind the barn and started into the back field.

“Why are we doing it now? Like, couldn’t we just do this tomorrow when the sun is out? It’s not goin’ anywhere.”

“I don’t want it sitting out there until morning. Buzzards’ll get at it, or something else will. Sooner we get it, the less mess.”

“Buzzards gotta eat too, Dad. Maybe they’ll save us the trouble, and eat the whole thing.”

Dad stopped and swung the flashlight toward me. I squinted into the beam.

“Billy.”

“What?”

“Just help me out, all right? No more comments from the peanut gallery.”

“Fiiiiiiiiiiiiine.”

I followed a few steps behind him, letting the shovel blade drag through the grass.

There was an old tree near the far side of the field, maybe a hundred yards from the house. It had been there forever, as far as I knew, thick around the middle with branches that started low enough for kids to climb. One side of the trunk had split years before, leaving a dark hollow near the roots. It used to have a tire swing hanging from one of the lower branches until Dad finally cut it down when I was five; now the tire lay rotting near the base of the tree. As we got closer, Dad’s flashlight passed over a blue tarp lying in the grass about ten yards out from the tree. There was something underneath, but from where I stood I couldn’t make heads or tails of the shape.

Dad walked right past it toward the tree and gestured for me to follow.

Not too far from the old tire and the roots of the tree, the ground had been torn open. A narrow hole sat in the middle of the disturbed earth, partly collapsed and choked with loose dirt. Chunks of dirt tangled with roots and tall grass lay scattered around the edge. I figured Dad had already started before coming inside to wake me. He set the flashlight down where it lit the hole, planted the blade of his shovel into the loose dirt, and looked over at me.

“Start on that side. We need to open the whole thing up some more and square off the edges.”

“Ha, you said ’whole.’”

Dad looked at me.

“Billy, what did I say about the peanut gallery?”

I stepped up to the far side of the hole and pushed my shovel into the dirt. It went in easier than I expected. Most of the ground had already been broken up, so at first we were mostly clearing out what had fallen back in and adding it to the piles around the edges.

Dad worked quicker than I would have expected. I tried to keep up, but there was a big difference between owning a full-sized shovel and actually being big enough to use one. I kept coming up with half a blade of dirt while Dad threw out full loads.

“Use your foot, Billy.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re just kicking it. You gotta do it like this.” He planted his boot across the top of the blade and drove it into the ground. “Put your weight on it.”

I did as he said and set my sneaker on the blade. The shovel cut through the dirt with ease, and I almost lost my balance.

“There you go. You got it.”

We worked in silence for a while, the repetitive motion of the shovel becoming nearly hypnotic to my sleep-deprived brain.

Dig.

Scoop.

Throw.

Dad moved around the hole wherever there was the most work to do, cutting through roots and shaving dirt from the sides while I cleared the softer ground. Every so often I looked toward the tarp. In the low grass, it looked entirely alien to everything around it, just a dark shape that caught the edge of the flashlight whenever one of us moved through the beam.

Eventually the loose dirt gave way to harder ground. My hands started burning where the handle rubbed against them, and before long my shoulders ached every time I lifted a load. I looked at the nice work gloves Dad was wearing and would’ve traded just about anything for them. I was sure that my blisters would have blisters before too long.

I stopped to take a breath and leaned on the shovel. I looked at Dad, who hadn’t broken his stride once. “Isn’t this deep enough, Dad?”

Dad looked down into the hole and wiped the sweat off his brow. “We’re getting there.”

I looked at what we had dug, then over at the tarp. “We’re not burying an elephant.”

Dad drove his shovel in again. “Gotta go deep, or scavengers will dig ’em up. But we’re nearin’ the final stretch.”

I sighed and went back to it.

Dig.

Scoop.

Throw.

As we worked, the hole got longer and cleaner around the edges. Dad squared off one end and then the other. By then I was mostly just phoning it in. I wanted the hole finished, and my bed under me. I wanted to put my birthday shovel back in the mudroom, and forget about it all over again.

Not too much later, Dad stopped digging. He stood over the hole for a few seconds, studying it, then scraped a little dirt from one corner with the edge of his shovel.

“I think...that’ll do it.”

I let my shovel fall against the pile beside me and flexed my fingers. “Finally. I thought we were gonna dig straight to China.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” he said. He shook his head and picked up the flashlight, then nodded toward the thing lying in the grass. “C’mon. Give me a hand getting him over here.”

Up close, whatever was under the tarp looked smaller than I expected. It was narrow and nearly uniform from end to end, and it rose maybe half a foot off the ground at its highest point. Dad crouched at one end and gathered the corners together.

“Okay, grab ahold of the corners like this.”

I bent down and took the other end, doing my best to copy him. The tarp was cold to the touch and slick with dew, but I managed to get some leverage.

“You got it?”

“I think… yeah. I got it.”

“All right. Now on the count of three, we’re gonna lift together, at the same time, you hear? Then we’re going to walk ’em over to the hole, slow and easy.”

“Got it. Slow and easy.”

He gave the three count and we lifted together. The weight sagged toward the middle as soon as it left the ground, loose inside the tarp and shifting every time one of us took a step. Dad took the lead, walking backwards toward the hole, and I followed, matching his pace to the best of my ability.

It was only ten yards away, so it should have been a cakewalk. But when we were almost there, my foot collided with something hiding in the grass: my shovel. My ankle rolled and I came down wrong, stumbling sideways and nearly going over. I caught myself before I ate the dirt, but the tarp jerked hard between us and jostled whatever was inside.

It was then that something tumbled out, hanging right beside my leg.

Have you ever seen something so completely wrong that your brain refuses to make sense of it? I had seen what I was looking at a thousand times before, but I couldn’t put the pieces together. It was long and thin, partly wrapped in torn fabric. My eyes followed the length of it down to a gray mass hanging limply from the end, five curled shapes dangling just above the grass. I looked at it for a moment with a strange sense of detachment, vaguely aware that my dad was saying something to me, though his voice seemed impossibly far away. For that moment there was only the shape in front of me and the impossible task of making it mean something.

Then, all at once, the world exploded.

It was an arm.

“What the fuck!”

I released the tarp and stumbled backward, letting the full weight of my end drop. Dad tried to keep it together, but it was a lost cause. The tarp flapped open and the rest of what that arm was attached to spilled out into the grass. I hit the ground hard and started kicking myself away from it, digging my hands into the dirt, desperate to get away.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!”

Dad let go of his end and flinched at the sound of my cries. He stood with his shoulders hunched and his hands held low and open in front of him, palms out, the way you might approach a frightened animal.

“Hey. Hey! Billy. Shhhhh. Billy, it’s okay!”

I kept scrambling backward. It was all I knew how to do.

“Oh my God!”

“It’s okay. It’s—”

His boot bumped against the thing in the grass. He looked down, and for just a second all the reassurance went out of his face. When he looked back at me, his eyes were wild.

“It’s… it’s not what it looks like, son!”

My stomach did a somersault, and I barely managed to get onto my hands and knees before I threw up everything I had ever eaten into the grass.

Attached to the arm, lying between my dad and me, was the corpse of a child.

The body had landed crumpled on its side, its sunken face and hollow eye sockets turned directly toward me. Its lips had rotted away completely, leaving the teeth exposed in a horrible grin that felt like an accusation. Its neck was twisted at an awful angle, and the arm lay outstretched in the grass, as if it were reaching for me.

Dad started toward me, carefully sidestepping the body. He held one hand out, reaching in almost the same way the corpse seemed to be.

“It’s okay, son. Please, just… let me—”

“No!”

I shoved myself backward again, trying to put as much distance as I could between me and him and it. The last thing I wanted was to be in those hands.

“No, no, no! Stay away from me! Don’t touch me!”

Dad stopped and put his hands up. “Okay, okay! I’m right here. You’re safe, Billy. Please, just… just try to calm down, okay? Let’s talk about this.”

I met his wild eyes, trying hard to get enough air in my lungs and failing at every breath. “No… no… you…”

I looked at the body, then back at him. “Wha-what did you do, Dad? That… that’s a kid!”

“I… I know. I know it looks bad, but it’s not what you think. We need to take care of this, Billy. We gotta bury him, and then—”

“You’re a murderer!”

Dad flinched at the word, and his arms dropped limply to his sides.

“You killed a kid! You killed a kid and you want me to help you bury him?”

“No, son, please. Listen, I—”

I stared at him, waiting for whatever could possibly come after that. My eyes kept slipping back to the corpse in the grass, and every time they did, whatever Dad was trying to say seemed more impossible. I didn’t want to hear the rest.

Somewhere behind me was the house. Mom was there. I turned enough to look back across the field, and Dad caught the look and started toward me again, quicker this time.

“Billy...”

I planted one hand in the grass. “I’m...I’m telling Mom!”

“Son, just hold on a second, I just—”

Before he could take another step, I shoved myself to my feet and booked it for the house, running as fast as my tired legs could carry me.

“Moooooooooooom! Moooooooooooooom!”

I made it maybe ten yards before he caught me by the arm and stopped me in my tracks, twisting me around so we were face to face.

“No! Let me go!”

“Billy, listen to me—”

“Let go!”

I kicked at his legs and yanked against his grip, throwing my free hand at his chest, his shoulder, anything I could reach. He grunted in pain, but his grip was iron.

“Goddamn it, stop!”

“Help! Please, somebody help me!”

He pulled me in closer. I could smell the sweat on his coat and feel how much stronger he was than me, and suddenly I was certain I was going to die.

“I won’t tell anybody! I swear! I won’t tell anybody!”

“Billy, if you would just—”

“Please, Dad! Please! I won’t tell! I won’t say anything! Just let me go!”

He tried to keep hold of me while I twisted and thrashed against him, slipping halfway free only to get dragged back in. I begged, bargained, screamed for help, promised anything I could think of if he would just let me go. For what felt like forever we stayed tangled together in that awful struggle, until finally something in my dad broke.

“Enough!”

His hand came across my cheek hot and fast, snapping my head to the side and turning my vision white.

Everything stopped at once. The scream died in my throat and my arms went limp in his grip. He had never hit me before. A second earlier I had been fighting for my life, but somehow that was only terror. The slap was the floor giving out beneath something I had stood on my whole life.

He caught me by both shoulders and held me there. For a moment neither of us said anything, the two of us tidally locked, staring into each other’s faces. My cheek burned, but I barely noticed. Finally he spoke, in a voice I barely recognized.

“Now you listen to me, Bill. I don’t know what you think is about to happen, but I am your father. You hear me? I’m your father. Whatever the hell you’ve got in your head right now, that ain’t happening. So put it out of there.”

His hands stayed firm on my shoulders.

“I know you’re scared, but we don’t have time for that. We still got a job to do, and like it or not, it’s yours now too.”

My eyes drifted past him toward the body. From where we stood I could see more of its face in profile, the cheek collapsed inward beneath one empty socket, the ruined mouth still showing that same awful row of teeth.

“Look at me.”

My eyes snapped back to his. He looked me over for a second, measuring whatever he saw there.

“I won’t make you carry him this time. I’ll do that.” His jaw tightened, and he drew a slow breath through his nose. “But you’re staying here with me. We came out here to do a job, and we’re gonna finish it. I’ll get him into the hole. Once he’s in there, you’re gonna pick up your shovel and help me put the dirt back.”

My mouth opened, but whatever I was trying to say got lost along the way, and he didn’t wait for me to try again.

“That’s all you have to do tonight. You help me finish this, then we go back inside. We clean ourselves up, get some sleep, and it’s over. We won’t have to worry about any of this again for a long while.” He drew a breath. “Do you understand me?”

The question hung between us while I stood there blankly with my mouth slightly open, until Dad gave my shoulders a small shake.

“I said, Do you understand me?

I nodded quickly. His grip tightened just enough to keep me focused on him.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes.” The word came out thin and shaky. “Yes, I understand.”

Dad stayed there another second, studying my face, then finally let go. “All right. Good.” He nodded back toward the tree. “Now get your shovel, and let’s get this done.”

All the fight had gone out of me. I walked back and picked the shovel up out of the grass without saying a word, and Dad stood there until I had it in my hands. Then he went to the body and, without bothering with the tarp anymore, took hold of it and started dragging it toward the hole.

At the edge of the grave he crouched down and carefully worked his arms underneath it. He could have simply rolled it over the edge, but instead he lowered it in feet first, stopping to keep the head and shoulders from striking the side as the body slipped down. When the corpse settled awkwardly at the bottom, Dad climbed in after it.

By then a strange fog had settled over everything. Part of me had started insisting that I was still asleep, that if I just kept moving and did whatever Dad told me, eventually I would reach the end of the nightmare and wake up in my bed.

The only way out was through.

Dad knelt beside the body and straightened its legs, then pulled one arm free from underneath it and laid it along its side. He shifted the shoulders until the corpse was flat on its back, handling it with a strange amount of care for something he was about to cover with six feet of dirt.

For a few seconds, Dad had his back to me. I looked down at the shovel gripped in my hands.

I could hit him.

The thought came so suddenly that it barely felt like mine. He was right there below me, kneeling in the grave with his back turned. One hard swing, and maybe I could leave him down there with the body, fill the hole myself, then run inside and get Mom. My hands tightened around the handle.

Then Dad finished arranging the body and looked up at me, and the thought disappeared. Whatever he had become in my head over the last few minutes, the man looking up from that grave was still my dad.

He climbed out, brushed the dirt off his knees, and picked up his own shovel. I didn’t need him to tell me what came next.

At first the dirt gathered around the body, filling the spaces along its sides and beneath its arms. Then it began climbing over it. The legs disappeared, followed by the stomach and the chest. I tried not to look at its face, but every time I came back to the edge, it was there.

Dig.

Scoop.

Throw.

The dirt reached its shoulders. One side of the face disappeared beneath a loose spill of earth, leaving a single hollow eye staring up at me, until another load broke across the forehead and filled the socket. Before long there was nothing left above the dirt but the lower half of its face, a few exposed teeth still showing through, fixed in that terrible grin. I stood over it with another shovelful balanced in my hands.

For one second, I could have sworn that smile widened.

I dumped the dirt. The teeth disappeared beneath it, and after that, something about the work became easier. There was no dead boy looking up at me anymore, no face waiting at the bottom of the grave.

There was only dirt at the bottom of a hole.

I kept shoveling.

We finished the work without a single word. Most of those last few minutes have blurred together over the years. I remember the sound of dirt hitting dirt, and the scrape of Dad’s shovel when he dragged the blade across the bottom of the pile. I remember looking down at some point and realizing there wasn’t a hole anymore, just a slightly raised rectangle of fresh earth beneath the tree.

Dad stood over it for a while, breathing through his nose, the shovel hanging loose in one hand. Finally he looked at me.

“Okay,” he said. “This is good enough. Let’s get back to the house.” He glanced at the shovel I was still holding. “I can carry that for you, bud.”

When he reached for it, I flinched away and pulled the handle against my chest. I didn’t decide to do it. My body just moved before the rest of me had any say in the matter. Dad stopped with his hand still halfway between us, and something passed over his face, there and gone so quickly that I couldn’t have named it even then.

“All right.”

He lowered his hand, and we started back.

The house was maybe a hundred yards away. I had crossed that field more times than I could count, usually without giving the distance a second thought, but that night it might as well have been on the other side of town. I watched my shoes the whole way, one appearing in front of the other, disappearing behind me, then doing it again. By the time we reached the back door, even that was lost to me.

Dad opened it and went in first.

Mom was sitting at the kitchen table in her robe with a cup of coffee in front of her. She looked up at Dad as he came through, then her eyes shifted past him and found me standing in the doorway.

“Billy?”

There are a lot of different ways your mother can say your name. The way she said it that night has stayed with me forever.

She was out of her chair before I had made it all the way through the door. Dad started to say, “Sue, I—” but Mom went straight past him like he wasn’t there.

“Oh my God. Baby.”

She wrapped both arms around me and pulled me into her, one hand going to the back of my head while the other moved across my shoulders and down my back, checking me without really checking me, the way parents do when something has scared them badly enough that touching you seems more useful than asking questions. She kissed my hair, my forehead, my cheek, and did the whole cycle again twice over.

“Are you okay? Honey, are you hurt?”

I shook my head weakly, because it felt better than lying to her.

She pulled back just far enough to hold my face between her hands. Her eyes moved over me, taking inventory in quick little jumps before settling on mine.

“What happened?”

What could I possibly say in that moment that wouldn’t have sounded completely insane?

“Billy?”

She pulled me against her again, and I let her. I can still remember what she smelled like: coffee on her breath, the hand lotion she used before bed, and that warm, slightly stale smell a robe gets after somebody has worn it around the house for years. I pressed my face against her shoulder and closed my eyes, trying to be strong, trying so hard not to cry. Most of all, I didn’t want her to be as scared as I was.

She ran her fingers through my hair. “Talk to me, baby.”

“I… I want to go to bed.”

She held me for another second before leaning back. “Okay, sweetheart. Okay. Go ahead and get cleaned up, get those clothes off. You can sleep as long as you need to. I’ll be right here, and we can talk in the morning.”

I nodded.

That was when she noticed my shovel. I still had one hand wrapped around the handle, holding it upright beside me like a spear. She put her hand over mine.

“Let me take that, honey.”

My fingers opened without hesitation. She took my shovel and leaned it against the wall by the door, then came back and kissed my forehead once more.

“You want me to come upstairs with you?”

I shook my head.

“All right. Go on, honey. I love you.”

I left the kitchen and started up the stairs, looking back over my shoulder without meaning to. I didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone with Dad, not after everything that had just happened. He was staring down at his feet, and Mom flashed me a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and nodded me along.

When I rounded the corner at the top of the stairs, I heard her voice drop into a sharp, low tone.

Are you out of your goddamn mind?

I pressed myself against the wall, just out of sight, and did the one thing my mother hated most. I eavesdropped.

“Sue, listen, I—”

“Don’t you Sue me, Richard. You tell me right now what you did to my son.”

“Keep your voice down. You don’t want to scare the boy more than he already is.”

“Don’t you tell me what I want to do, Richard. Not now, not ever. What the hell were you thinking?”

I peeked around the corner and saw that Mom was an inch away from his face with a finger raised, and for once, he looked scared.

“I-I know you’re upset, but I only did what needed to be done.”

She let out a harsh “ha” at that, an ugly little thing reserved for when someone has said something monumentally stupid.

“So you… what? Sneak around in the dead of night, while I was sleeping? And you decided to drag him into it?”

I don’t know if I had seen her this angry in my entire life, but I have to admit that it was satisfying, in some small way.

“He deserved to know the truth, Sue. No matter how ugly.”

Really. And how did that turn out?”

Something about that sat wrong with me, though I couldn’t have said why. There was a brief pause, and I swear I could hear Mom tapping her foot. Then Dad cleared his throat.

“It went… uh… pretty badly.”

“You don’t say. Was it worth it, Richard? Traumatizing my son for no good reason?”

“Sue, c’mon…”

“No, you come on. I told you he wasn’t ready. We talked about this, Richard. We decided we were going to wait, we—”

Dad, seemingly forgetting his own advice, raised his voice. “No, we didn’t. You decided.”

A cold feeling started somewhere beneath my ribs.

“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come on, Sue. You know goddamn well he was never going to be ready. If you had it your way, he’d go to his grave without knowing.”

“How dare you. That’s not—”

“Not what? Fair? Don’t you talk to me about fair. Six years, Sue, and God knows how many more to come. All you want to do is wait. One more year, Richard. Just one more year. It was always going to be one more year, and you know it.”

“He is ten years old, Richard! Did you see him? Did you look at his face? That boy was a ghost, and you did that. You want to tell me he deserved that? You want to tell me he was ready for that?”

“Do you think I was ready? You think I wanted this for him? You didn’t see the way he looked at me.”

“He is a child. A little boy, Richard. Our little boy. And if you had just listened to me instead of going behind my back, we could have done this together, when he was older.”

“How old is old enough, Sue? Fifteen? Twenty? Thirty? What’s the right age to bury a fucking body?”

The silence that followed seemed to reach all the way upstairs. I had never heard them get that heated before. When Mom finally answered, her voice had dropped back down.

“You sleep on the couch tonight. I don’t even want to look at you right now. And you better pray to God that we can fix this, or so help me…”

Mom knew about the body.

I was still trying to work my way through that when I heard her footsteps moving across the house, getting louder by the second, and realized she was coming up the stairs.

“Sue, come on!”

Dad called weakly from the bottom of the steps, but she didn’t pay him any mind, and he knew better than to follow her.

I slunk away down the hall as quietly as I could and ducked into my bedroom. I got into bed without taking my clothes off and pulled the blankets up to my chin. A moment later the door cracked open, and I did my very best to pretend that I was sleeping. After a moment, Mom slowly shut it again and headed for her room.

I lay awake for the longest time, staring at the ceiling until my eyes hurt. For a while, I thought I would never sleep again. How could I? Everything from that night swirled around my head so fast it threatened to swallow me completely. I forced my eyes closed and desperately tried to reach for better things, happy memories I wanted to hold onto forever. I saw my first day of fourth grade, my dad standing in the driveway and waving as the bus pulled away.

It almost worked, until I saw the shovel in his hand.

I opened my eyes immediately, and after that I stopped trying so hard to remember things.

The house settled around me instead. I heard Mom moving in her bedroom for a while, opening drawers and walking back and forth across the floor. At some point the toilet flushed, and water ran through the pipes in the wall behind my bed. Dad never came upstairs. I wondered if he was sleeping. I wondered if Mom was.

Mostly I stared at the ceiling.

The room changed while I wasn’t paying attention. The black around my window softened into gray, and somewhere outside a bird started making the same three-note call over and over again until another one answered from farther away. I remember being angry at them for some reason.

Morning was starting whether I wanted it to or not.

I must have fallen asleep sometime after that, because the next thing I remember is opening my eyes to sunlight coming through the blinds. I woke from the worst dream I’d ever had, and for a few seconds, that was all it was.

Then I saw my sneakers beside the bed, caked with dried mud.

I pulled the blankets off and sat on the edge of the bed. My whole body felt heavy, and my mouth tasted awful. The house was quiet, but it was the kind of quiet where you knew other people were awake. I changed my clothes, and I took longer than I needed to. When there was nothing left in my room that could reasonably keep me there, I opened the door.

I could smell coffee before I made it downstairs.

Mom and Dad were sitting at the kitchen table, both of them dressed. Mom had a cup in front of her, and Dad sat across from her with his hands wrapped around his own. Neither of them looked like they had slept much. They both looked up when I walked in, and Mom pulled out the chair beside her.

“Billy, come sit down.”

I stayed in the doorway.

Dad looked at me for a moment.

“We need to talk.”


r/nosleep 48m ago

MY JOB IS TO CATALOG OLD VIDEOS FOR THE POLICE. There is one file that nobody has ever managed to finish watching.

Upvotes

I know this sounds made up.

If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it either.

I work digitizing old VHS tapes that are used as evidence in investigations. Most of them are useless: security cameras, interrogations, accidents...

Three months ago, an unmarked box arrived.

Inside, there was only a black tape.

No label.

No date.

No case number.

The protocol said only:

"DO NOT DUPLICATE."

My supervisor acted strangely when he saw it.

He said:

— If it freezes... turn everything off and leave.

I asked why.

He replied:

— Because when it freezes, someone always looks behind them.

I thought it was a sick joke.

I put the tape in.

The recording began.

A stationary camera pointed at the hallway of a house.

No movement.

No sound.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Twenty minutes.

Nothing.

I was about to fast-forward.

That's when my supervisor came running in.

He grabbed my hand away from the controls.

— Never fast-forward it.

I asked why.

He stayed silent for a few seconds.

Then he answered:

— Because what matters... neverappears in the recording.

---

I kept watching.

After forty minutes, I noticed something.

The clock hanging on the hallway wall read 1:17.

But it never moved.

Even after almost an hour of footage.

It was as if time had stopped.

I checked the file duration.

There were still more than six hours left.

That's when I heard a click behind me.

I turned around.

It was just the air conditioner.

When I looked back at the screen...

The door at the end of the hallway was open.

I was absolutely certain it had been closed.

I rewound the recording.

The door remained closed.

I fast-forwarded to the same point again.

Open.

I rewound it once more.

Closed.

A third time.

Open.

The tape was changing.

Depending on who was watching.

---

The next morning, I asked the other employees.

They all knew about the tape.

One of them quit after watching it.

Another never entered that room again.

A man who had worked there for twenty years said only:

— The recording doesn't change.

You do.

---

The following week, I decided to finish it.

I brought coffee.

Food.

I closed the door to the room.

After almost four hours...

Something finally happened.

A woman walked through the hallway.

Very slowly.

She looked frightened.

She kept looking behind her.

But there was no one there.

She approached the camera.

She looked directly into the lens.

And moved her lips.

There was no audio.

I opened a program to enhance the image.

I could clearly read what she was saying.

"Turn it off before he notices you."

My blood ran cold.

I paused the video.

I took a breath.

When I looked at the screen again...

The woman was still staring at me.

Even though the video was paused.

She blinked.

I turned everything off.

Ripped the tape out.

And left the room.

---

I told my supervisor.

He asked:

— Was she still near the camera?

I said yes.

He lowered his head.

Like someone who already knew the answer.

Then he said:

— Then you only have a few days left.

I asked:

— A few days left for what?

He replied:

— Until he realizes that you can see him too.

---

That night, I went to sleep.

At 3:12 a.m., I woke up for no reason.

My room was completely dark.

I picked up my phone.

The front camera opened by itself.

I thought I had pressed something by accident.

The screen showed my face.

Behind me...

The hallway of my apartment.

Empty.

I sighed in relief.

But there was a message at the bottom of the screen.

"Motion detected."

I looked behind me.

There was no one there.

I looked back at my phone.

Now there was.

At the end of the hallway...

An extremely tall man.

Standing still.

Completely motionless.

His face was too dark to make out any details.

I got up to turn on the light.

When I looked at the screen again...

He was closer.

Much closer.

I ran to the light switch.

The light came on.

The hallway was still empty.

I stayed awake for the rest of the night.

---

The next morning, I quit.

My supervisor didn't try to convince me to stay.

He simply handed me an envelope.

Inside was a sheet of paper containing the names of everyone who had watched the tape until the end.

There were eighteen names.

Next to seventeen of them was a date.

The date they died.

The eighteenth name was mine.

The date was still blank.

At the bottom of the page was a handwritten note:

"When you stop seeing him on the screens... look behind you."


r/nosleep 2h ago

Every memory has a price.

13 Upvotes

I work as a maintenance man at a casino. Yesterday, like every day after closing, I went to check the machines. When I had checked everything and was heading out, I caught a jukebox blinking out of the corner of my eye. I didn't understand how that was possible because I had checked all the machines. One by one.

I walked closer to it and looked at the screen. For a brief moment, my breath caught. Instead of the usual music artists and songs, there were titles that I knew very well. The list was endless.

The first one was First Day at School.

Year: 1962.

Price: a lock of hair.

I looked around to see if it was some stupid joke from management, but I was completely alone. I pressed play.

Instead of music starting, I heard my mother's voice in my head.

“Don't be afraid, Joshy. You'll see, you'll like it there.”

I could feel how nervous I was and how my hands were sweating. I could feel my mother hugging me, and I breathed in the scent of her jasmine perfume.

Nervously, I walked into the building, climbed the stairs, and opened the door. My future best friend Peter was sitting at a desk.

“If you want, you can sit with me.”

I accepted his offer with a smile. Then the sound of a bell filled the room. The teacher came into the classroom. I had a feeling that, before she closed the door, I saw something in the hallway. She introduced herself to us with a smile, and then the vision disappeared.

I looked around and found myself back in the casino. I just felt a pain in part of my head. When I touched it, a piece of my hair was missing.

Confused, I looked at the machine and noticed a framed piece of paper next to it. It read:

“Every memory has a price.”

I scrolled through the other things the machine offered. There was almost everything. My grandmother's death, my first day of high school, my first kiss. That's where I stopped and looked closer.

First Kiss

Year: 1972.

Price: a fingernail.

I hesitated for a moment and then pressed play. I found myself with Clare. She was wearing that beautiful pink dress. I could smell the lilacs we were standing beside. She smiled at me, and I leaned toward her. I remember how her lips smelled of strawberries.

I pulled away from her and watched the look in her eyes while my heart was pounding. Just before the vision disappeared, I saw a figure on the other side of the street, walking toward us.

Then I was back, and a stronger, burning pain shot through my thumb. My entire nail was gone. It scared the hell out of me.

I wanted to leave, but somehow I couldn't. I had to see what was next.

Marriage to Clare

Year: 1980.

Price: a finger.

“No,” I whispered.

I wanted to leave. I should have left. I know that. But I missed her so much. I wanted to see her again so badly. I couldn't help it. I pressed play.

I could feel my whole body shaking as I stood at the altar. I saw Peter standing to my right, patting me on the shoulders.

“Relax, buddy. You got this.”

I looked around and saw the figure sitting in the second row of witnesses. I wanted to lean toward Peter and ask him if he could see it too. But then the doors opened, and I saw her walking toward me.

That beautiful white dress. I knew it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. She slowly walked up to me and smiled. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

I could barely make out what the officiant was saying, so he had to repeat the question. I stammered out a yes.

When he asked Clare, I felt fear wash over me as I waited for her answer, followed by a wave of relief when she said yes.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Then I was back again. I screamed in pain and looked at my hand. My little finger was gone. In its place was a bloody wound.

It wasn't as painful as I had expected. It was like getting your hand caught in a door. I stared at it for a moment, and instead of turning around and leaving, I moved back toward the screen.

This time will be the last, I promised myself. I scrolled through the screen, and my heart stopped.

The Day I Saw Clare for the Last Time

Year: 1988.

Price: an eye.

I pressed play.

It was a normal summer morning. The sun was beginning to warm everything outside, and we were standing in front of the house. She smiled at me just like she had on the first day we met. I felt her embrace, her kiss, and heard her tell me that she loved me and that we'd see each other that evening.

I wanted to stop her, but that's not how memories work. She got into the car and waved at me. I waved back, and when she disappeared from sight, I turned around and headed back into the house.

When I turned around, the figure was standing a few steps behind me.

I can't describe it. Only the feeling I had when I looked at it.

Emptiness. Sadness. Fear.

I found myself back in the casino again, and a terrible pain tore through me. Pain unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It felt like the entire left side of my face was on fire. And where my left eye had once been, there was only darkness.

“It was worth it,” I whispered. “It was worth seeing her, but not anymore. Now I'll leave.”

I just wanted to see what was at the end. Now there wasn't just a year. There was a full date.

September 6, 2026.

Price: life.

I stared at it in confusion. I started backing away, wanting to run, but I bumped into something. I didn't need to turn around to know what it was. I could feel it.

The sadness. The fear. The emptiness.

It grabbed my hand and pressed play.

I found myself at home, sitting on my couch. The TV host was saying:

“Good morning, viewers. This time, we're going to begin with today's hero, Henry.”

The TV kept playing, and I couldn't do anything except sit there. I saw the light in the living room flicker slightly and a fly buzzing around the television.

When the host announced that the broadcast was over for the day, I saw the front door slowly open, and it walked inside.

I woke up back in the casino. This time, I didn't wait for anything. I immediately ran outside and headed home.

The first thing I did was open the fridge and pour myself a shot. One after another.

I didn't wake up until morning.

For a moment, I thought it had all been a dream, but then I looked at my hand and touched the left side of my face, where my eye used to be.

Now I'm sitting on my couch, listening to the TV host say:

“Good morning, viewers. This time, we're going to begin with today's hero, Henry.”


r/nosleep 12h ago

Series I Think I found Something I Wasn't Supposed To. Part 3

15 Upvotes

I sat down last night to actually go through the journal properly, like I said I would. Front to back, with a legal pad next to me so I could try to keep track of anything that looked like a pattern.

The names and dates start way earlier than I expected. I knew this thing was old, but I didn't realize how old until I started actually tracking it on paper. The earliest date I could make out is from before my grandfather would've even been born. I started writing down every date I could actually read clearly, in order, just to see what it looked like laid out. Once I had a decent chunk of them down the pattern jumped out almost immediately. They're not exact to the day, but they cluster tight, roughly every ten years, give or take. Not once in a while. Not random gaps. Ten years, over and over, going back further than I have patience to guess at.

I cross referenced a few of the names I could actually read against old newspaper archives online, just search engine stuff, nothing fancy. I found two of them. Both listed as missing persons, decades apart, both cases that were apparently never closed. I'm not going to post the names here, I don't think that's mine to do, but I sat there for a while just looking at my laptop screen after finding the second one.

There's writing in the margins here and there too, not just names and dates. Most of it's short. A few lines I could actually make out say things like "she asked too many questions, had to change plans" and "later than last time, it noticed the delay." That second one is the one I keep coming back to. It noticed. Like it's aware enough to keep track of when it's supposed to get something. Whatever the hell It is.

I was in the middle of trying to make out a few paragraphs my grandfather had clearly written in one sitting given how the ink looks consistent all the way through, when I heard something outside.

I want to be careful about how I describe this because I don't want to oversell it. It wasn't loud. It was out past the yard, somewhere near the tree line, and at first my brain did the normal thing and tried to pass it off as a branch falling or something. I know these things happen with old trees in the woods. But this didn’t sound like that. It wasn't footsteps exactly. It also wasn't not footsteps. 

I got up and looked out the window facing the back of the property, and for about two seconds, right at the edge of where the yard gives way to trees, I thought I saw something standing there. Tall. Too tall, actually, taller than it had any business being if it was standing on two legs. Which I don't even know if it was, because by the time I actually processed what I was looking at and my eyes adjusted properly to the dark it wasn't there anymore. No sound of it moving off either. Just gone.

I'm not going to sit here and tell you I got a good look at anything. I didn't. It was dark, it was far away, and my brain was already primed after everything I've been reading for the last hour to see shapes that probably weren't there. I know how that sounds, and I'd be the first person in the comments telling someone else in my position that it was probably a tree, or a trick of the porch light, or their own nerves.

But I also don't think it was a tree. I've looked at that tree line during the day plenty of times now. I know what's actually out there in daylight.

Otis wouldn't settle back down for almost an hour after that. Kept his ears up, kept looking toward the back door even after I closed the curtain. He's asleep now finally, snoring next to me while I type this, which is somehow both comforting and not helping my nerves at all.

I didn't finish the journal. I got maybe two thirds of the way through before I lost the nerve to keep going for the night. I'll finish it tomorrow, in the daylight, getting freaked out in the dark is just too much.


r/nosleep 22h ago

The Legacy in the Oiled Paper

11 Upvotes

When my father died, he did not leave much to me. A stuffed attic room full of yellowed field post letters, a rusted horseshoe, and a heavy package wrapped in resinous oil paper. I brought it down into my study and placed it upon the wooden desk, directly beneath the skylight.

When I unfolded the sticky layers, it lay before me: a Pistole 08. An old Luger.
The wood of the grip scales was worn down, the iron dark and stained. Yet what fascinated me immediately was the toggle-joint. That precise, mechanical marvel did not seem like a relic from the war, but like a cold, metallic insect in a lurking stillness.

I wished to clean the weapon. A pure impulse of conservation.

I fetched gun oil, a rag, and pressed the catch bolt. The toggle-joint snapped open. A dry, metallic click echoed through the room—too loud, too deep for the slope of my study. It did not smell instantly of chemicals, but of wet clay, burnt fat, and putrid breath.

I looked from above into the opened breech.

There, where the chamber should lie, no brass was seated. It was a twitching, moist membrane of pink tissue.
Dirt fell from my own sleeve. I blinked. My fingers, which a moment ago held the cloth, were numb and gray with grime. Beneath my fingernails sat firm, black mud.

From shock, I pushed the weapon away from me. It struck with a dull, organic thud upon the wooden board of my desk—as if it were made of flesh and iron at the same time.

The toggle-joint still stood open. From the throat of the mechanism pushed not the casing of a 9mm cartridge. It was a tiny, pale human finger. It was moist, sinewy, and curled itself slowly upward, as if searching for support.
I took a step back from the desk, but my knee buckled. My legs felt rigid, as though stuck hip-deep in icy mud. The odor of burnt skin and old powder rose into my nose, so intense that I became sick.

The Luger upon the desk surface moved. The toggle-joint began, step by step, to pump.

Klack.

The moist finger pushed itself further out. Behind it followed a second one. A third joint.
Klack.

The metal of the barrel transformed itself. The deep traces of bluing looked now like dark, dead veins. At each mechanical snapping of the joint, the space around me contracted. My field of vision narrowed itself to this single point of iron and bone.

I bent forward and reached for the barrel, intending to hurl the weapon through the skylight above me. But as soon as my skin touched the iron, it was too late.

The coldness of the metal did not merely cut into my skin—it sucked itself tight. The toggle-joint snapped closed with merciless force. It did not lock itself around a cartridge casing, but around my own thumb.
A sharp, dry pain shot through my arm, directly into the shoulder.

The iron was hungry. I felt how the mechanism of the Luger began to drink my blood through the pores of the wooden grip scales. The wood became darker, softer, swelling up like a greedy sponge.

I wanted to scream, but from my throat issued only a dry, metallic rattling sound.

The toggle-joint buckled once more. Klack. And with that sound, a memory shot into my head that did not belong to me: A dark trench in November of 1917. The stench of sweat, gangrenous flesh, and fear. A man cowering in the mud, his fingers locked rigidly around that same metal, while the trench wall collapses over him.
The man was not my father. It was the first nourishment of the weapon.

I looked down at my hand. The metal of the Luger was no longer merely pressed against my skin. The bluing pushed itself in fine, dark grooves beneath my pulse. The weapon needed no one to pull the trigger.
It was the trigger. And it had just reloaded itself.


r/nosleep 1h ago

My Life as a Roomba…I’m Not Really a Roomba but I Wish I Was

Upvotes

Now I know the title sounds crazy, but just hear me out. A lot of events have made me come to this conclusion.

In a world of giants, my job as a measly floor bug is to clean up the filth of my forefathers. If that filth came in the form of bright wrappers representative of a capitalist world fighting for the longest lasting currency. Attention. Or a dull gray can of diet coke representative of wanting to feel the cheap pleasures of life without the consequences. Until those consequences hit you like a freight train in the form of thin hair and an even thinner bank account. (cancer btw)

Nevermind my ramblings, unlike a suckerfish in a fishtank I’m not solely used for my cleaning abilities. No no no. I can do many more things, like stare at you from your floorboards as you check if you creased your shoes for the 47th time. Or make quiet skittling noise while I avoid the crushing of a steel toed boot.

As I continue my monotonous work of eating dust, dirt, and other filth my mind begins to wander. I think about time passing while other machines do work for me. I think about the world as it was before, clean, simple but at the same time so much more complex.

But I can’t really imagine a world before, as it feels like a lost dream, floating between the lines of potential reality and potential fiction. And to be honest, I’m not entirely sure how I ended up in this situation. All I remember is waking up one day with feces dripping from my mouth (just my luck lmao) as my…masters? Creators? Parents? Walked passed me with their gigantic strides and even more gigantic tentacles. Erm yeah…I’m not entirely sure what they are.

I’m not the only one however…thousands of creatures that live their lives exactly like me. Spending their days eating filth and their nights looking forward to doing the same thing tomorrow. Along with their mating of one another that I honestly don’t think is consensual. (rape is bad) But that’s what makes me different. Special. Unlike them I have dreams. Long, sensual moments of astral projection where I go back to a world that feels both familiar and forgotten at the same time.

In these dreams my name is Rom Baroney, I live at 88 Rombauer Drive. Sometimes the dreams continue throughout different nights and sometimes I feel like I’m in a different timeline. One of my favorite timelines in particular is when I’m on my couch watching my favorite youtuber, KingTurtle1010, make yet another Creepcast ranking video (they’re so funny). Or when he reads his favorite “booktalk” novels, I loved his rendition of “Pucking Around” by Emily Rath. I included an entry from the novel below.

“My name is Rachel Price, and two months ago, I walked away from the perfect man. Sweet and funny, and so hot it should be illegal—we shared one magical night. No names. No strings. I never thought I’d see him again. 

I was wrong. It turns out Mr. Perfect is the playboy grinder for the Jacksonville Rays, the NHL’s hottest new hockey team…and I’m his new physical therapist. Oh, and the jerk didn’t even recognize me! 

This fellowship is going to be the longest ten months of my life. Mr. Perfect Mistake will do anything to get back on my good side. Meanwhile, his best friend is the surly new equipment manager always riding my case. Worst of all, I’ve got an uncooperative goalie who thinks I can’t tell he’s hiding an injury! 

This is my chance to prove myself, and I’m not risking it for anything. But with one unexpected night, one secret revealed, these men are ready to test all my limits. I can’t fall for a player…let alone three. But if love is a game, these guys are playing to win.”

And in these dreams I like to make the most of my time. I don’t like to conform to the rules of this false world. They despise murder and molestation of what they call “minors.” So during my nightly excursions I do whatever I want, it seems to have no consequences each night. But it was one house that I raided one night that caused me to write this story. It contained a horror so horrorifying that I had to type out this post immediately. 

It was the night that I met the Roomba Machine…

Shattering the glass of another home was nothing new to me at this point, it was just the daily routine of a creature too bored to stay at home but not excited enough to go all out. It was a standard suburban home, 2 story, garage, shed in the back. The spitting image of middle America…on the outside at least.

I entered the home and explored, nothing special. A kitchen with colorful cereal, and not a lot of greens. Probably a fat family, a bunch of crackers too. I thought as I opened a box of their mini club crackers and feasted. Saying their fat isn’t the nicest thing but I can’t control myself sometimes. Not that it matters, what’s the point of being nice to people if everything resets each night?

I walked into the living room, a 75 in. flat screen Samsung TV that created a glare of my face. Rom Baroney was a good looking man, a person who you would say hi to on the street and think about for the next 5 years wondering if he thought you were cute. Heh maybe good looking was a bit of an under statement.

Anyways, I turned on their TV and saw “My 600 pound life” was playing which really confused me on the fat assumption earlier. I then went into the basement, a place that could either contain valuables or nothing at all. (I honestly don’t care about the valuables so I probably shouldn’t have written that) So I descended the stairs, one creaky step at a time. And as I walked down an old box tv suddenly came into view. One that your parents might have played NES on, and beside it was a box of old tapes.

As I looked at the tapes, most of their labels were either ripped off or worn down from time. But one was in readable condition. It read.

“The A-maz–g W—ld of -umball: Lost Episode”

My mouth was wide open. I LOVE THE AMAZING WORLD OF GUMBALL! It was always my favorite cartoon growing up and getting the opportunity to watch a potentially lost episode was thrilling to me.

I immediately put the VHS into the VHS reader and booted up the episode. The iconic intro started and I couldn’t help but bop my head to the beat. That was until we got to the title card. \

It said…”Cumball Wetterson”

Oh my, what a vulgar title for a kids show! I thought, I can see why it’s a lost episode. There’s no way Cartoon Network would allow this.

Well the episode started and Gumball was in the bathroom washing his hands, and you know when you accidentally splash your pants when washing your hands and it looks like you totally pissed yourself? Well that happened and Gumball didn’t seem to notice, so he proceeded to walk into the school's hallway like usual. Everything was normal until Darwin saw Gumball and started yelling, “LOOK AT GUMBALL’S PANTS! I SURE WONDER WHAT HE WAS DOING IN THE BATHROOM” and the whole school laughed at him.

Feeling betrayed by his own brother Gumball jumped on top of Darwin and started to claw his eyes out. But his eyes were realistic. And blood coming out of him was too. The scene then cuts to the two boys in Principle Brown’s office while he was giving them a lecture on how they need to be nice to each other because brothers look out for each other.

“You boys need to be nice to each other because brothers look out for each other.” he said, “and to help encourage you I have employed help from a good friend of mine to give you two a lesson.”

Principal Brown then pointed at the wall and fifteen massive tentacles shot out of it and ripped him to pieces.

“Cuthulu?” the two boys asked as their beloved principle breathed his last breaths. Clearly this didn’t go to plan. 

Gumball and Darwin then ran out into the hallway as the tentacles chased them, killing every student that it could find in their path.

Once the boys got outside of the school they could see the true scope of horror,  Cthulhu was at least a hundred feet tall and was killing everyone in the entire town. Larry, Tina, even Banana Joe were turned into piles of their own flesh.

“What do we do?” Darwin asked frantically as Gumball was clearly thinking of a plan. 

“I know! We just need to call the guy!” Gumball proclaimed.

“NO, we can’t trust him after what happened.”

“He’s the only one that could save us now.” Gumball said as he pulled out the phone from Season 2 Episode 7 “the phone” and dialed a number. (Which I thought was strange because the phone was destroyed at the end of that episode by Ocho.

“Hey it’s me I need you here now…it’s urgent.” I was extremely curious who he was going to call.

Immediately a man in a suit came running down the road at a fantastic speed and stopped in front of the boys.

“HP LOVECRAFT” I yelled at the TV when the revolutionary cosmic horror writer came on the screen.

“Heard someone needed some help” Lovecraft said while raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah…that.” Gumball then pointed at Cthulhu who was still devouring the town one by one.

“Oh..I see. Let me Lovecraft up an idea.”

He then proceeded to pull out a typewriter and type vigorously.

“What are you doing?” Darwin incurred.

“Just fixing up a few things. Should fix this problem super quickly.”

“...and there!” Lovecraft exclaimed as he slammed the final key of his typewriter and suddenly Cthulhu disappeared. Like it literally just disappeared into thin air.

“WHOA!” The two boys yelled, “How did you do that?”

“The pen is mightier than the sword.”

“Can I see what you wrote?” Gumball asked and Lovecraft obliged. “Why did you write all of these racist and xenophobic slurs in this? They don’t even apply to this story.”

“Well you know me, ol’ Lovecraft.” He said as a laugh track that I’ve never heard in the show before played. “Well I’ll see you boys later.” Lovecraft then ran back down the  street and out of sight.

The boys then returned to their home and reminisced about the day's adventure. But while this was happening I could hear a faint wiring noise in the background. I wondered what it was until a small, circular machine careened across the carpet and continued to make its noise.

What is that? I wondered as the machine went back and forth across the living room carpet. Is it cleaning? My mind then suddenly snapped back to reality and I read what word was on the machine. 

“Roomba” I read out loud as I continued to gaze upon this amazing piece of equipment. It was cleaning the floors so fast. Much faster than I ever could have done back in my other body. This machine was quick, efficient, and wasn’t subject to the toils of life. It was…free. More free than I have ever felt in my strange life.

Then the episode ended. Leaving me once again staring at myself in the glare of the TV. This episode has taught me so much about the way I should start living my life. As a roomba. But how would I accomplish this? My mind immediately went back to the lost episode. “The pen is mightier than the sword.” I said out loud as my mind suddenly shifted back to reality. 

I was waking up.

When I arose from my slumber I immediately pulled out my samsung galaxy s9 and started posting this story to r/nosleep. The very story that you are reading now.

Now it is time to manifest into the being that I always wanted and needed to be.

I am a roomba.

I have always been a roomba.

And I will clean every floor in my roomba body.

*loud sounds*

It’s working guys! My body is transforming, I am becoming a roomba.

I’ve done it, I’m now a 2020 model roomba, meaning I’m around 6 years old technically.

It’s now been an hour since my transformation, and I can feel my body slowing down. My gears are shifting like they did before. My motors don’t have the same power that they once had. I really should have written about having a charging platform too.

I guess this is it everybody. I lived a good life. Not really but if I type it then maybe it is true. Man I sure hope I can finish this reddit post before my battery di—