David Cummings (4:23)

Check the link in the show notes to learn more about Draugr and how you can support this very cool project. So as I was saying about my neighbors, we all have people and or things in our lives we might consider to be pests. And they're not just things like insects in our homes. Pests can be anything that won't leave you alone and that seem intent on ruining your day or your life. And it's a good thing pests make for good horror, because on the show this week we're going to meet people who have to deal with things that go from annoying to deadly, with a lot of torment in between. So at the risk of bothering you, let's plunge into the horror of our sleepless tales. In our first tale, we meet a family dealing with a worldwide mystery. Something is approaching the planet from outer space and no one seems to know what it is. But in this tale shared with us by author Ren Seegers, as reality sets in, the family has to deal with the threat, despite having no idea what's causing it. Performing this tale are Lindsay Russo, Wafia White, Mary Murphy, and Nicole Goodnight. So sometimes danger approaches slowly. Sometimes you get all of it at once.

Unnamed Father (from Ren Seegers' story) (6:05)

We both hunker over the countertop in the kitchen while we prepare dinner. It's something made of apples and bread, since that's about all we've got left until the next ration allotment. And that's all gonna spoil soon anyway. It's early evening, Midsummer, so we have the windows open and the air creeping in from outside is warm and sweet. We can hear Lily and Amelia while they play dancing among the trees in the grove, running in and out of the open hatch of the bunker. They're pretending it's a castle with secret corridors and a dungeon. I hope they remember that whimsy if we do have to lock ourselves away in there. Pulling myself away from the picturesque image of our two girls carefree and laughing against the backdrop of a wooded valley in low hanging sun, I turn to Laura, intending to ask if she's had a chance to double check the air filtration system. I still as her gaze meets mine and my voice dies out before I can ask anything, I struggle finding it again. Your. Your eyes. Laying down the knife I'd been using, I reach for my wife's face and palm her smooth, angular jaw as I brush a fingertip over her eyelashes. Her eyelids flutter in reflex as she wraps my wavering hand in hers. Over the course of our lives together, we've often held each other close and stared into each other's eyes while things like anxiety and fear coursed through us. This wasn't like that, because something I've never felt in her arms before is panic.

Marcus (7:37)

What is it?

Unnamed Father (from Ren Seegers' story) (7:39)

Her soft voice is low and unsteady, edged with concern. The wrinkles on her forehead grow deeper as she pauses to search inside herself for signs of something amiss. The slightest shake of her head and shrug of her shoulders tells me she must not feel anything. It must not hurt. They're changing. They're blue. I attempt to explain to her what I'm seeing, but it's like describing a tsunami. You can get all the right words out, but the magnitude and implication of what you're witnessing aren't heavy enough as the warnings roll off your tongue. I watch silently, stunned, as a deep sea washes over the whites of my wife's eyes, tinting them a dark green blue hue which drowns out the fiery brown of her irises. A wave extinguishing a flame.

Marcus (8:28)

What?

Unnamed Father (from Ren Seegers' story) (8:29)

Laura softly tosses my hand aside as she makes for the bathroom, glaring into the mirror, she tugs on the skin around her eyes and rubs her fingers over them repeatedly, as if pressure and desperation can change them back. What the fuck? How does that her voice trails off as she turns to me.

Marcus (8:49)

It's here, isn't it?

Kayla (8:51)

This is what they've been talking about.

Unnamed Father (from Ren Seegers' story) (8:54)

We stare at one another for a moment, breaths shaky and composure faltering as we silently nod and agree. It's here. We don't have a way to communicate with anyone outside of when we visit the town center, so we can't know for sure. Right now, we actually won't ever know for sure, but we can feel that something is wrong, and it must be what they warned us about. We can feel that some uninvited thing has finally arrived, some intruder is encroaching upon our tiny, perfect world that we carved out for ourselves here in the valley. Even though we knew it was coming, we're still not ready. It's hard to prepare for something that you don't understand something that never fully takes shape. It's like we've been attempting to arm ourselves to fight a thundercloud. My concentration on what's happening to Laura is broken when maternal panic smacks into me and pushes me out onto the back porch. Lily. Amelia. I run out the back door and dash down the steps of the deck as I yell across the field toward the small grove of trees surrounding a fresh hole in the ground. There, in the bunker we've spent the last few months building and stocking with food and supplies. They've both been making sure it's loaded with all their favorite things to keep them busy while we wait out something that may never end. I rush towards them, but I'm stopped dead at the railing when I notice the sky. A blurry dark blue and black mass displaces the soft orange and yellow of the warm evening air with eerie force. As it tumbles over the horizon, the sky around it vibrates and blurs like a mirage. There is a dull, low, pulsating hum that makes it feel as if the softest parts of my head are throbbing wildly against my skull. This thing reverberates. I see it, I feel it and hear it, and it terrifies me. The cloud that scientists have been tracking for the past seven months finally enters our atmosphere and descends over us like a murky gray pallid. No one was ever able to figure out what it was. Everything they sent into it came back empty. Everything they shot at, it went straight through. Some cosmic mass has been careening towards us for months, and we've had no idea how to prepare for it or what would happen when it finally got here. The only thing we could be sure of was that it was definitely going to hit us. And now it's actually here. A flash of light in the sky startles me out of my stupor. I blink hard because it's incredibly bright. It flashes again, and this time I see more of it. It's a blinding neon green with soft, wavy lines that feather out from the bottom of the cloud. I would call it lightning, but I have a feeling there are no words for what I'm witnessing. This cloud is bringing a whole new world with it as it spills itself over ours, slowly snuffing us out. For weeks we'd been planning, and now I feel like it's not been enough time. We didn't know what to expect, but something in the air gives me the feeling that we're not prepared for whatever this actually is. As I call for Our girls. Two tiny heads pop out from the entrance of the bunker and for a moment everything stops as my heart rings with a pained confusion. I have two little blond headed babies, but even through the trees I can see there is now a redhead and a brunette staring back at me. My vision kaleidoscopes as water swells in my eyes. I always knew my babies would grow and change. I just never thought I'd see it happen. In a matter of seconds, right in front of me. I push myself forward, sprinting across the field toward them as air rushes over my face. There hasn't been rain in days, yet Petrichor surrounds me. Maybe the cloud is bringing it. Maybe the air is changing too.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (12:51)

Mommy.

Unnamed Father (from Ren Seegers' story) (12:53)

Lily calls to me as I run. Her voice is still the same high pitched squeal as always, even if the face it's coming from is not the one I'm used to seeing accompanying it. I fight past tree trunks and branches and drop to my knees as I finally get to them. I reach for Lily, an instinctual action that's been a natural part of the way my body has moved for the past seven years. But now is the first time I ever felt hesitation as I embrace her. I take her tiny face into my palms and watch in shock as she changes before my eyes. The trim of eyelashes around her typically almond eyes morph and stretch into perfect circles, turning her eyelids into halos that perfectly match the shape of her blown out pupils and darkening irises. Her once freckled button nose elongates and hooks at the end. And her skin. Oh God, her soft, sweet little skin. It molts as blotchy mobs spreads over her body. The tendrils raise, creating rigid, fleshy spiderwebs that squish and move beneath my fingertips. I glance at Amelia. Somehow she still looks like herself, but Lily absolutely does not. I pull Lily into me, smashing her face into my chest as if I can use my T shirt to wipe away everything that's happened in the last few moments and bring my baby back. Lily, honey, look at me. Does it hurt? As I raise her off my chest, I feel it, her skin undulating beneath my fingers. It's heaving beneath my touch, waves of transformation rippling over the bones. It makes me sick to feel it, and I see tears swell in her blue, no black eyes.

Emily (Caller) (14:35)

It doesn't hurt, but I can feel it.

Unnamed Father (from Ren Seegers' story) (14:38)

It's like popcorn inside me. I pull her to my chest again and squeeze even tighter. Maybe this time it will work. Is it too late? What good would the bunker be now? Whatever is causing this seems to be in the air. Or maybe it's something else entirely. I reach for Amelia, but stop when I see what's finally happening to her. Tears swell once again. Her thin, once blonde baby curls are now blurs of brown tufts as they break away from her scalp and float to the ground in clumps. There are no lesions or sores on her head from where the hair falls. It's simply as if it never belonged there in the first place. Some of it catches her eye as it drifts past her shoulder, and as she reaches a hand up to touch her now nearly bald head, I see that her fingers are doing the same. The skin at the base of each digit constricts as if it's caught in a wire that's pulled taut around it. The skin shrinks in on itself until there is a tiny snap and the finger simply falls to the ground and rolls in the dirt. I gasp loudly before swallowing my concern down in a painful, choked gulp. It's as if her body is rejecting everything that is an extension, like it wants to shrivel in on itself as a form of protection. I wonder briefly how much shriveling she could take before there was nothing left.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (16:04)

Mommy?

Unnamed Father (from Ren Seegers' story) (16:05)

Her eyes are wide and she's scared. She's looking to me for comfort, for reassurance, but I can't give her either. I take a deep breath and pull her into me, placing my hand on the cold, smooth skin of her head as her tears wet the front of my shirt. Laura, come on. I yell out into the air, begging for her to get out here to the bunker, out here to us. My heart is pounding with the kind of desperation and uncertainty that can make you sick, beating so fast it's lurching my entire body forward and back in dizzying, uncontrolled motions. The pounding drums in my ears and I don't hear Laura answer me. I turn around to scan the lower level of the house, the windows, the doors, for a sign of her, but I don't see anything. I squint to look higher to the second floor. Still, there's nothing. As my eyes continue to roam upward. I glance to the sky opposite of where the cloud is coming from, and tears prick my eyes again, washed in a brilliant fiery orange with fluffy pink and yellow clouds that hang lazily just above the setting sun. It's devastatingly, painfully, and beautifully right, like an old photo of yourself as a child, laughing, being tickled while held in your mother's lap. It's as things should be, but to look at it in the present moment, you're speared in the chest with the reality that it is not how things truly are. I take the hands of my girls in each of mine and let myself cry as we begin walking toward the house. I cry because I'm scared. I cry because I don't know where Laura is or why she's not answering me. I cry for what's happening to Amelia and Lily. I cry for that perfectly right twilight sky that will soon be smothered and snuffed out by the very wrong thing that's slowly swallowing us whole. We only take a few steps before the back door slams open and finally Laura stumbles out onto the deck. Or what used to be Laura, whatever is swaying at the top of the steps. Breathing heavily and barely standing on limbs I can't call, legs moans out some garbled version of my name, and I'm not sure if it's in pain or panic or both. I quickly spin the girls around with me and grab onto their heads, burying them into my stomach, obstructing their vision and covering their ears with my hands. I feel hot streams careen down my face and I swallow hard as I take deep breaths and fight to think clearly. Finally, I squat down in front of them again, making sure to put my hands near their eyes to keep their view on me and not what's behind me. Get in the bunker. I speak slowly, as if the thing behind us, something I can't call Laura anymore, might hear and come storming after us, chasing us underground forever. I gently nudge them along, turning them around and guiding them down inside, where I don't even know if it's safer, but at least they won't have to witness what's happening out here. I'll be there in just one minute. My voice is shaky, but I try to reassure them.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (19:17)

But Mommy.

Unnamed Father (from Ren Seegers' story) (19:19)

I force myself not to look back as I close the hatch to the bunker behind them. I stand and brace myself against a tree as I pause to take a breath before attempting to face what's waiting for me at the house. Grasping onto a knot in the tree trunk, my fingers spread out over what feels like flesh. Turning, I see that the bark on the tree is changing too. Some sort of dark brown velvety membrane is slowly spreading over the trunk and its branches, and I've grabbed hold of a hairy, pulsating lump of it. It's soft and warm, and as I shudder and jerk my hand away, I swear the tree shudders too. I look out over the field as the mass rumbles closer. I scan for animals to see if the same thing is happening to them, but there are none. They've gone. They've sensed what was coming, and they fled while they could before their legs and wings morphed into things that would leave them stranded here like us. The grass is pulsing different colors as the cloud moves to hover above it. Green, gray, brown, deep, burnt orange. Clumps of earth bulge up in random places, pushing trees and rocks higher toward the sky. Something like rain seems to fall from the cloud, and I'm sure if I stayed long enough for it to pass over me, it would burn or suffocate or tear through my flesh, or maybe even all of it at once. I finally let myself accept it. There's no point in being scared. There's nothing we can do to stop this. We couldn't have prepared more than we did. Whatever this is, it's going to happen, however it's going to happen. And that's it. I wrap my arms around myself and as I do, I finally notice my own change. My skin is loose, drooping, sagging from the muscle and bones like it's been stretched thin by eons of a well lived life, when in reality it's only been a few moments of torture. I stop and close my eyes, breathing in deeply to let myself take stock of my body. I feel it too. No pain, just tiny little bursts within the walls of each cell, explosions of change at a molecular level. It reminds me of when I first started to feel each of the girls move inside me when I was pregnant with them. I dreamed of how they'd grow up, what they'd look like, all the things we'd do as a family. My dreams never once looked like this, but I suppose anything can change in the blink of a terrified tear filled eye.

David Cummings (22:14)

Foreign. Let's take a short break for our sponsors who help us keep our heads above water for waves of ad free horror content. Join our Sleepless Universe by going to sleepless.thenosleeppodcast.com we're grateful that BetterHelp is sponsoring this episode. We're celebrating women not just this month, but year round, and women contribute to the horror genre in so many important ways. I'm always surprised by dudes who seem shocked by how many great horror creators are women. The no Sleep podcast wouldn't exist without the women who not only make this show, but who create the nightmares we experience through their stories. Women don't get an easy pass through life, so take a moment to celebrate a woman in your life. Reflect on what they've done for you and equally important, encourage the sense of balance and boundaries that can be discovered through therapy, like the kind of therapy you can get with better help. BetterHelp therapists work according to a strict code of conduct and are fully licensed in the US with over 30,000 therapists, BetterHelp is one of the world's largest online therapy platforms, Having served over 5 million people globally and it works with an average rating of 4.9 out of 5 stars for a live session based on over 1.7 million client reviews. So listen, your emotional well being matters. Find support and feel lighter in therapy. Sign up and get 10% off@betterhelp.com no sleep that's better. H E L P.com no sleep now let's plunge back into the deep waters of horror. I admire people who can choose a career in pest control. You won't catch me dealing with bugs, roaches, vermin. All in a day's work. But Liam seems capable of handling it. And in this tale shared with us by author Helena Castellan, Liam is being kept busy these days. And oddly enough, his calls are all coming from the same neighborhood. Performing this tale are Atticus Jackson, Jeff Clement, Peter Lewis, Jesse Cornett, Mary Murphy, Ellie Hirschman, and Wafia White. So no, this isn't an ad for Liam's company. It's just their motto. When he says Heard something in the wall or call us.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (25:14)

Heard something in the wall or ceiling? Call us. Hello. We are an independent organization with one purpose, to make you feel good in your own home and restore the peace and quiet. We deal in all kinds of intruders, from cockroaches to rats to raccoons. All sizes and shapes and colors. Safety and comfort is one call away. We offer a high variety of services, accommodated to your needs and inquiries, and have a flexible schedule. Call us anytime. That's the job I work at. For privacy reasons, I won't say the name of the company. The pay is decent, the hours are flexible, and I get uniforms on the house and meals. Yes, I do have to deal with all kinds of infested homes, from termites to roaches to bees, and even intruders like raccoons, foxes, once even a snake. It can be dangerous, but I take my precautions. I can also take phone duty if I'm feeling particularly lazy, like last week. Don't imagine we're working non stop. We rarely get any calls. Not a lot of incidents happen around here in this town. Last week, however, I had three calls, which was interesting enough by itself because I Rarely get this much activity. Three calls also meant that I had to go do ground duty because we didn't have enough personnel for three interventions in one day. The first call happened at around 6pm.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (27:08)

Hello, this is Exterminators, where the safety

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (27:13)

of your home is our priority. How can I help you today?

Emily (Caller) (27:17)

Hi, yeah, my name is Emily and I think there's something in my ceiling.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (27:23)

Hi, Emily. Could you describe the issue with a bit more detail?

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (27:27)

What kind of noises are you hearing?

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (27:29)

Any signs of anything living up there? Anything like that can help a lot.

Emily (Caller) (27:34)

Okay, so I've been hearing these faint scratches, like rats. The scratches started yesterday around midnight. And at first I thought it was the rain. You know, the way you could hear each individual drop fall on the roof of your house. And I imagined it must have been the birds. But I ended up realizing it was coming from the attic because I, I, I heard the scratches, like coming from right above me and I thought something had gotten into the house. I live next to Helene, right?

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (28:13)

So the gas station.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (28:16)

Which one exactly? The one you pass by going to Kayden or the other one down the road to the bridge?

Emily (Caller) (28:22)

No, the one down the road to the bridge, right next to the creek. My house is the blue one, right when the town starts. I don't have any neighbors. It's number three on Pollen Street. So, you know, I'm afraid something got into the house from the forest. It wouldn't be the first time. I just hope this time it isn't a snake. But snakes don't scratch like that.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (28:48)

Are you hearing the scratches now?

Emily (Caller) (28:51)

They're really faint, but persistent. Could be rats.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (28:57)

Okay, Emily, we'll be on our way soon.

Emily (Caller) (29:01)

Thank you.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (29:04)

I sent the team over there, but they couldn't find anything out of place. No insects, no animals, no rats. The next call came around 10pm

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (29:18)

hello, this is Exterminators, where the safety of your home is our priority. How can I help you today? Hello? I keep hearing these scratches and thuds coming from the ceiling. And I think it moves to the walls. I'm not sure though, but there's definitely something in there.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (29:38)

Could you describe the issue with a bit more detail?

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (29:41)

The noises started like three hours ago. first I thought it was the pipes, but they're too rhythmic like. Like footsteps. Or more like something dragging its limbs through the walls. I don't understand and I can't identify the animal. It sounds big. This is an old house and it's relatively easy to dig through it. I've never heard anything like it. Where is it?

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (30:06)

Right now.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (30:08)

I can't hear anything right now. I don't know where it went. All right. Could you tell us your address? 7 Pollen Street.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (30:18)

My stomach tensed. Could it be a coincidence? Maybe some raccoon was making its way through the homes and. All right, thank you.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (30:29)

We'll be on our way.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (30:32)

I sent the team to the location and was left alone with Andrew, a coworker. The night had fallen and I hated night interventions, so I hoped the phone wouldn't ring again until they came back. Honestly, I was pretty relaxed. There wasn't a very high chance that I'd get any other calls for the day. I lifted my head from my lasagna. Me and Andrew stared at each other. It had been, what, like 30 minutes since the last call? The. Andrew raised his shoulders. I stood up and lifted the receiver. This is. How can I help you? There was a pause on the other line, then heavy breathing.

David Cummings (31:33)

Sir?

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (31:35)

Madam, are you okay? What happened?

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (31:40)

It dragged something into the house.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (31:43)

What do you mean? Who dragged what, sir? Can you be more precise? Andrew's eyes widened.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (31:52)

What?

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (31:54)

I shook my head and motioned to him to be quiet. Sir, what's going on?

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (31:59)

Something broke into my. My house. But there's two of them. Two distinct bodies. Not a raccoon, not a bird. No. And at first I thought there were two alive things. But as I listened more, I realized one of them was one of those. Dragging the other across my attic on my fucking ceiling. I don't even know how it got there. I ain't heard anything. Like climbing on the house. Like it just landed on the roof, then dug down to the attic. I don't know.

Marcus (32:35)

Right.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (32:36)

No, I'm not done. I got scared shitless because I thought it was a person. At first it sounded big enough to be a person. I was like, shit, it's a murderer. But that was until I heard it eating.

David Cummings (32:52)

Eating?

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (32:53)

What do you mean? Andrew frowned. He mouthed the words.

Marcus (32:59)

The fuck?

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (33:01)

Yeah. I can hear this heavy thing eating right above me. And I hear the floorboard of the attic creaking. I'm afraid it's gonna come down. The thing is dragging something heavy. Fucking hell. Please, just. Just come. I wanted to call 91 1, but I know it's not human.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (33:23)

All right, I'll send someone right away. Address and name, please.

LifeLock Advertiser (33:29)

Who are you going to send? There's just us.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (33:32)

Finick Galen, 11 Pollen Street Me.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (33:38)

Okay, sir, we'll be on our way. After I hung up, a moment of silence followed where me and Andrew just stood there, perplexed.

LifeLock Advertiser (33:50)

You know, it's us that have to go there, right?

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (33:54)

I'd really rather not.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (33:56)

Then call Walt.

LifeLock Advertiser (33:58)

Ask him if they finished at the last place.

Marcus (34:01)

Are the houses close to each other?

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (34:03)

All three calls came from the same street. Pollen street. Near the forest.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (34:09)

Fuck yeah, call them.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (34:15)

I dialed Walt's number. It took a while for him to pick up. Hey Walt, you done there? Cuz I got another call and Liam,

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (34:27)

there's no one in that house.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (34:29)

My hand was shaking on the receiver. What do you. What do you mean?

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (34:36)

There was no creature, no person, Nothing. However, this scene is rather interesting. I'm afraid we'll be busy here for a while.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (34:50)

Why?

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (34:51)

Well, the windows are broken, furniture destroyed. The attic is covered in scratches and broken wood. And there's blood. It's fresh. I don't know what happened here, but we need to find your caller. And the intruder.

Unnamed Father (from Ren Seegers' story) (35:10)

Her.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (35:11)

We're searching the property.

David Cummings (35:13)

Right?

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (35:18)

The third call had mentioned something dragging something else. We need to find your caller. I had a good idea of where he was. I had never been so afraid. As me and Andrew put on our uniforms, I couldn't help but wonder if I should get the police involved. There was no snake, no fox, no bear. The most frustrating thing was that I didn't know what it was. We took a deep breath and drove into the night. We reached our destination pretty fast. I know what you're going to say. If the house's numbers were so close, why couldn't Walt just take a look at number 11 too? Well, the numbers were really far apart. This area of town wasn't exactly populated. Neighbors could be miles apart. I reached the house with its lights on. We hesitated, then got out of the car and knocked on the door. I got an instant response. Finick opened, pale and shaking.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (36:36)

I I am so, so glad you came.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (36:43)

I was used to clients being afraid. Finnick, however, was deeply shaken. His eyes were glossy and his movements irregular. He sensed the same thing I had that something sinister was going on, but we couldn't quite label it yet. I tried to remain calm. Sir, you can wait in the car if you would like to. He didn't need to be told twice. Me and Andrew made our way upstairs to the master bedroom. The house looked pretty normal. Nothing out of place and nothing broken like in number seven. The bedroom had old creaking furniture and floors. It was undeniable that something was in the ceiling. I could hear the sound of something being torn apart and scratching. So much scratching. The ceiling was old too. Looked like it was just made of some old slabs. Andrew and I took out our equipment, gathering our courage to go inside. The attic had the slabs always had this red tint. I raised my hand and felt them. They were humid and smelled like metal. Andrew, get your gun. Pulling the attic stairs down, I tried to be as quiet as possible. I didn't want to make our presence known. As silent as we tried to be, the stairs creaked obnoxiously and I closed my eyes. The sounds upstairs stopped. Okay, you go first.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (38:38)

Oh, you.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (38:41)

With that, he disappeared into the darkness. I heard his footsteps, then a loud, echoing scream that turned into an inhuman wail. My first instinct was to crouch and stay on the ground with my hands on my ears. Then I heard two gunshots and Andrew cursing.

Marcus (39:06)

Holy fuck.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (39:09)

What the fuck? More gunshots followed, then glass breaking and something batting its wings and wailing. The voice was not human, but it had some inflections. Like a woman. It made my skin crawl. The attic window had broken and the thing had flown away. I don't know why, but I pulled away the curtain to the bedroom and looked outside for any signs of what it could have been. When Andrew came back down, he was crying. I had never seen him cry. I saw it. I saw it. I saw. Hell, Leo. I looked right at it. I saw it happen. The sweet smell from the attic made me gag. I put on my mask and went upstairs, leaving Andrew frozen, staring into a corner. The light didn't work, so I had to use my flashlight. The floor was wet and dark in here, and blood. And the smell lingered, putrid and overwhelming. I couldn't understand at first what I was seeing and it had no impact on me. I didn't realize I was staring at what would turn out to be the second caller. I had never dealt with such gore before, so my head didn't know how to take it. I guess I knew in some sort of way that the inflated shape was supposed to be the head and what was above it were the limbs. The stomach lay somewhere farther away and the torso had been dug into. I was in shock, and the images just didn't seem real. Above the body, the creature had carved something onto the wood and wall. Some symbol. My face felt numb. Remaining in the same position, I made a call. Hey, Walt? Yeah. Are you guys done there?

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (41:34)

Are you okay? You sound weird.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (41:39)

I blinked a few times, then cleared my voice. Yeah, are you. Are you done there?

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (41:47)

We didn't find anything. Did you guys do the other intervention?

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (41:53)

Oh, yeah, we did. And we found the caller. Not all of him, though. And the thing is gone now. Probably resting.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (42:07)

What?

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (42:09)

Yeah. You might want to come. Since then, I've been giving interviews nonstop as to describe the three calls in our interventions, the creature. I told them everything. Well, almost everything. That night I had looked through the window on instinct. I don't know why. You know how the most horrible things have a way of drawing you in. I pulled the curtain. I placed my face close to the window. I hadn't heard it fly away yet. I should have waited for it to leave. In the darkness, I saw two eyes shimmering a few inches from mine. Two eyes that looked so human, I thought that I was almost seeing my own reflection, except while they were upside down. And the other parts of the face had been kind of carved into the flesh with blood, drained skin sort of stretched over them. Behind the head were large wings made the same way. It turned its head so it wasn't upside down anymore. But the body remained exactly the same. I felt it had wanted to see me better. Then it pressed its forehead onto the glass. Fear paralyzed me, and I remained still. I hadn't known it had a mouth until then. When it smiled, it had no teeth, just more skin. Not even gums or a tongue. Then it flew away. The rest of its body was stretched out, the limbs curved and molded from the gray flesh. I watched it disappear into the night, leaving nothing but a bloody stain on the window where its forehead had been. I didn't get a lot of sleep after that. I was hesitant to return to the job. But I had no better option. It has been exactly a week since then. At almost midnight, I got a call.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (44:54)

Hello, this is Exterminators, where the safety

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (44:59)

of your home is our priority. How can I help you today?

Emily (Caller) (45:03)

There is something in my ceiling scratching.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (45:06)

Address?

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (45:07)

You didn't even let me finish.

Emily (Caller) (45:10)

I'm on Pollen street, number 13, ma'.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (45:13)

Am.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (45:14)

Get out. Just leave.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (45:18)

Trust me.

Emily (Caller) (45:19)

What?

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (45:21)

Yeah. No, we ain't helping you with that. It's beyond us. That shit needs a priest.

Marcus (45:29)

Are you kidding?

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (45:31)

Nope.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (45:33)

As I hung up, I knew we couldn't find run from this thing forever. And there's also this other thing. I know. My address is 34 Hamney Lane, right across from Pollen Street.

Karissa Thompson (46:11)

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Unnamed Father (from Ren Seegers' story) (47:00)

By the time I hit my 50s, I'd learned a few things, like how family is precious, work can always wait, and 99% of people over 50 already

Marcus (47:11)

have the virus that causes shingles.

Unnamed Father (from Ren Seegers' story) (47:13)

Not everyone at risk will develop it, but I did. The painful blistering rash disrupted my life for weeks.

Marcus (47:21)

Don't learn about your shingles risk the hard way.

Unnamed Father (from Ren Seegers' story) (47:25)

Talk to your doctor or pharmacist today. Sponsored by GSK.

David Cummings (47:38)

It ain't easy scraping out a living as a horror storytelling podcaster. You want the big bucks? You host a video channel as a paranormal investigator like Marcus and Kayla do. They're developing a big audience by visiting supposedly haunted places like a photo museum. And in this tale shared with us by author Melissa Mason, this particular museum seems to be infested with a ghost. And let's just say, it's not a pretty picture. I'm in this one alongside of Matthew Bradford and Nicole. Goodnight. So stop making that duck face and put the phone away. This is the last place you'll want to take a selfie.

Marcus (48:36)

Wake up, angry ghost lady. I pan my phone's camera around the empty museum. Museum lobby. Dozens of frame black and white portraits frowned down on me.

Kayla (48:45)

She's not angry, Marcus, My best friend

Marcus (48:48)

crossed her arms over her flower blouse. A tinkling collection of charms hung from a wrist.

Kayla (48:54)

She's sad. Grieving, maybe, but not angry. Still too quiet for me to receive

Marcus (49:00)

a message, though my least favorite charm, a bright blue glass eyeball fixed its pupil on me. Me. I lowered my phone. Seriously, Kayla? You're telling me we drove out to the ass end of nowhere and camped out at this old museum all day for nothing? I pointed at her bracelet. And now your evil eye is judging me. She grinned.

Kayla (49:22)

Told you a million times already. It wards against evil.

Marcus (49:26)

Cheerful off key whistling interrupted us as a wiry man with tufts of white hair and a shirt proclaiming Heartwood Photography Museum in faded gold stitching rounded a corner. I held up my phone. Heya, Joe. Still good? The elderly security guard beamed.

David Cummings (49:43)

Closest I'll get to being a celebrity. Still can't believe the famous Detroit Ghost Hunters responded to my letter. Film away.

Marcus (49:54)

Our little video channel hardly qualified as famous, but the praise fired me up again. Viral video, here we come. I pointed my phone's camera toward the nearest set of black and white photos. Closer inspection revealed them as tintypes, thin pieces of metal used in 18th century photography. They hung behind panes of thick glass below the words Amazing Elizabeth. My voice assumed a carnival barker's cadence. Step right up, spook hunters, and learn all about the lovely Elizabeth Hartwood. In death, Vengeful Ghost in life. Famous Victorian girl, Grifter, Spiritual healer. I zoomed into the image of a woman seated on a wicker chair, dark hair pinned into a neat bun, with a knitted shawl draped around her shoulders. She clasped the hands of a sickly man covered in boils. Olurel's cured by the power of psychic energy and the low, low price of a single photograph taken by the Amazing Elizabeth's amazing husband who killed her deader than a doornail. Motivation. Why, it's the tale as old as time. Murder for money. And your side piece.

Kayla (51:00)

Side piece?

Marcus (51:02)

I turned back to her channel's mystic for clarification. What's the Victorian term?

Kayla (51:07)

Mistress.

Marcus (51:09)

Right, right. Murder for money and your mistress. But then what happened, K? She rolled her eyes, so I swung focus over to the security guard. Then what happened, Joe? His face lit up.

David Cummings (51:22)

Elizabeth returned from the grave and stopped her husband's traitorous heart.

Marcus (51:28)

Nice. Very dramatic. Joe gave a cheesy thumbs up and shuffled off, probably to guard another room filled with yellowing newspapers and old photos. Not sure why Place felt deader than the hardwoods. Then their belongings moved here to Michigan from England in the nineteen nineteen seventies. Cue flickering lights and cold spots and typical ghost shenanigans. I stopped recording inside. None of which we experienced today. Can't believe it's already the last weekend to qualify for the horror convention panel. Hey tilted her head at me.

Kayla (52:01)

You don't think Elizabeth's story is strong enough to push our channel over the subscriber count?

Marcus (52:05)

A ghost hunting video with no ghosts? I shook my head and chewed a fingernail, thinking we could tweak it. Kayla's face clouded over.

Kayla (52:17)

Tweak how?

Marcus (52:18)

Glowing red eyes on Elizabeth's portrait, maybe?

Kayla (52:21)

No way.

Marcus (52:22)

Just for the thumbnail image.

Kayla (52:24)

When we started making videos, we promised we'd never lie.

Marcus (52:27)

Promised we'd never lie to each other. And after we get on the panel, we'll finally have enough exposure to turn ghost hunting to a full time gig. Kayla set her jaw.

Kayla (52:37)

We left the laptop upstairs.

Marcus (52:39)

She marched toward the elevator. Come on, Kay. I know you enjoy our stunning minimum wage careers in retail as much as I do. The elevator doors creaked, but I managed to race inside before they shut. Kayla and I avoided each other's eyes, riding upward in silence until a shaky ding reverberated around us like an underwater doorbell. The elevator opened to reveal stacks of tools essential to Victorian era photography, but now mostly rusted junk. I'll grab it. I jogged to the large bag containing our equipment. It sat near a wooden cabinet of warped glass bottles containing various chemicals. Think one of these is the cyanide cocktail Elizabeth's husband used to poison her? K pushed chunky purple frames up her nose but said nothing. I snagged the heavy duffel and paused for one final look at the the Museum's best feature. Mr. Hartwood's photography. Not his scam work downstairs? No, the good stuff. Fraying tin types of unsmiling families circled the walls. Women in bustle dresses, men in suits, children clothed in their Sunday best. And in each photo, one of these elegantly dressed people was dead. Most times the corpse looked obvious. Obvious closed eyes or a sagging head. But I knew another tell tintype exposure time could take 15 seconds or more. Difficult to remain perfectly still that long. People breathed and shifted, causing their outlines to appear subtly blurred in the developed pictures. But the dead. The dead looked solid, like photography from the underworld. The corpses appeared more real from the living, but one photo stood out by its absence. The last picture Mr. Hartwood took of his wife post humously. I glanced at K as I returned to the elevator. Anyone would have a heart attack if their mistress caught them developing their wife's murder trophy photo. Vengeful ghost or no, not vengeful.

Kayla (54:38)

Sad.

Marcus (54:40)

I hit the lobby button and opened my mouth to cram my foot even further inside when my phone ding. I tapped the notification, expecting to see another warning about the convention deadline. Instead, a picture slideshow began offensively. Cheerful music played over a photo of me as a teenage discount goth with spiky hair and a ripped, proud skeptic T shirt. My Gap toothed grin looked huge and happy, one arm slung around Kayla's shoulders. Cursive over the top read Memories. Remember this day. I turned the screen to Kay. Who's that goofy looking guy with you at Detroit? Ghost Con? Bet he's a real jerk. She shrugged her shoulders.

Kayla (55:19)

Only 90% of the time.

Marcus (55:21)

Ouch. I grimaced, placing a hand over my heart. You should go solo probably get more views.

Kayla (55:29)

Oh, I'd definitely get more views.

Marcus (55:32)

She finally looked at me, lips twitching.

Kayla (55:35)

But skeptics make great fodder. Something spooky tries to nab us, it'll get your dumb ass first.

Marcus (55:41)

I smiled back. I see how it is. So, food. Tell our followers where to dine out here in lovely Sticksville, Michigan.

David Cummings (55:50)

You kids leaving already?

Marcus (55:52)

We'd arrived back at the lobby and Joe looked crestfallen. Yeah, sorry, man. Appreciate you reaching out, but we haven't seen anything truly scary all day. I think. Think Elizabeth's asleep.

David Cummings (56:04)

Lizzy. The staff all call her Lizzy.

Marcus (56:08)

He glanced around the still empty lobby and looked me dead in the eyes.

David Cummings (56:12)

Wanna wake her up?

Marcus (56:14)

I exchanged glances with K and grinned, punching record on my phone. Hell yeah. Joe motioned us back into the elevator.

David Cummings (56:23)

Gotta be careful. Could lose my job if anything gets busted down there.

Marcus (56:28)

He winked at the camera.

David Cummings (56:30)

Or any guests die.

Marcus (56:33)

Mysteriously, our guide produced a shiny metal key and slid it into an unmarked slot on the bottom panel. Sweet adrenaline flooded my veins as we descended. The watery bell announced our arrival as the door shuttered once and opened to darkness.

David Cummings (56:51)

Welcome to the basement.

Marcus (56:54)

Joe stepped out and fluorescent lights buzzed to life overhead as I waited impatiently for the big reveal. The illumination finally settled, revealing a large concrete walled room. My heart plummeted at the set of frames hung every few feet along the walls. Oh great. More pictures. Kay gently punched my shoulder.

Kayla (57:16)

It is a photography museum.

Marcus (57:19)

Joe strode toward the nearest image.

David Cummings (57:22)

The basement ain't available to the public because Lizzy doesn't want anyone down here.

Marcus (57:27)

Kayla fell into step behind him.

Kayla (57:30)

Did her ghost tell you that?

Unnamed Father (from Ren Seegers' story) (57:32)

Nah.

David Cummings (57:32)

I'm not tuned into the spirit world like you, missy. But after the last death, Lizzy got all riled up. Had a bunch of spooky occurrences until these pieces moved to the basement.

Marcus (57:45)

Last death. Joe stopped beside a color photo of a balding man in a powder blue suit and jerked a finger at it.

David Cummings (57:53)

Distant relation of the Heartwood family. Brought over their effects from England for the museum. I was only 17 on opening day when Lizzie took her revenge on him. Saw it myself.

Marcus (58:06)

The security guard clutched his chest and convulsed

David Cummings (58:13)

like that. Died in minutes.

Kayla (58:16)

But that doesn't make sense. Elizabeth wanted to cure people, not kill them. Those photographs in the lobby weren't taken to make money. They acted as healing tokens for her clients. And they worked. Everyone pictured with her upstairs recovered.

Marcus (58:30)

Did her ghosts tell you that?

Unnamed Father (from Ren Seegers' story) (58:32)

No.

Kayla (58:32)

An article in London's 1873 Spiritualist newspaper, which I read during the museum tour while Someone looked at cat videos on his phone.

Marcus (58:41)

I held up a hand. Eh, Guilty. Joe stepped to another picture, partially blocking it. The visible portion showed a familiar dark haired woman, but without the telltale shawl. Elizabeth.

David Cummings (58:54)

Nope. This here is Lizzie's daughter.

Marcus (58:58)

Joe's eyes grew bright.

David Cummings (59:00)

Murdered by her own mama. More proof of a vengeful spirit.

Marcus (59:05)

Wait, wait. She killed her kid but not her husband's mistress? That's cold. K frowned.

Kayla (59:12)

Why do you think she died? Because of Elizabeth.

Marcus (59:15)

With a flourish, Joe moved aside, revealing the rest of the picture. Lizzy's daughter stood close to a wooden stand, holding up an ornately framed portrait. My eyes swam. I'd stared at pictures all day and waves of dizziness washed over me at the image. Inception.

Kayla (59:32)

That's it.

Marcus (59:33)

Kayla's urgent whisper cleared the fog.

Kayla (59:36)

The death photo.

Marcus (59:38)

My heart kicked into high gear. In the portrait within a portrait, a man sporting a Van Dyke beard stood behind a wicker chair, one hand on the occupant's shoulder. In the seat slumped a woman, hair and shawl askew, eyes quite closed in death. Elizabeth Jo Grin.

David Cummings (59:59)

You betcha. And her husband, of course. Evil bastard.

Marcus (60:04)

He got his though. K. The bucket before his murder trophy photo. Finished drawing.

Kayla (60:08)

Then how did their daughter die?

David Cummings (60:10)

Same way Mr. Heartwood did. Same as the original owner of this place too, though his family burned the Polaroid.

Marcus (60:19)

Polaroid. I exchanged confused glances with Kayla until the security guard huffed impatiently.

David Cummings (60:27)

They died because they took a picture of themselves with Lizzy. Or with her death portrait, anyways.

Marcus (60:34)

The pieces of Joe's story finally snapped into place. A killer selfie. What a clickbait title. Our video will go viral for sure.

David Cummings (60:45)

Told you.

Marcus (60:46)

Joe sounded smug. I snapped a still of the unfortunate daughter and her charlatan parents, turning eagerly to the security guard. Please tell me the original death photo is down here.

David Cummings (60:57)

Oh yeah.

Marcus (60:59)

Joe spun on his heel and bowed like a maitre d, ushering us to the best table.

David Cummings (61:04)

Right this way, good sir. Madam.

Marcus (61:08)

Kay grabbed my arm.

Kayla (61:11)

Mark, wait. That feeling of sadness. It's stronger here.

Marcus (61:17)

That's great. We're finally getting somewhere.

Kayla (61:19)

No, you don't understand. It feels wrong.

Marcus (61:23)

I half dragged us after the security guard as she struggled for words.

Kayla (61:28)

Heavy like quicksand.

Marcus (61:31)

Kayla skidded to a halt and fell silent, her gaze fixed over Jo's shoulder. I gently pried her fingers from my sleeve and stepped forward. Details stood out more clearly in the original death photo. The painted floral backdrop behind the couple, the smirk beneath Mr. Hartwood's mustache, Elizabeth's stiffly curled fingers. I stared at her closed eyelids. Something about the photo felt off.

David Cummings (61:57)

So you gonna do it?

Marcus (61:59)

Joe gave me an expectant look.

David Cummings (62:02)

Wake up, Lizzy.

Marcus (62:04)

Kayla furiously shook her head. From her worry faced, I knew mine was lit up like a kid's on Christmas. Take a killer selfie? Absolutely. I live for this.

Kayla (62:15)

Did you not hear a word I said?

Marcus (62:17)

Kayla stepped between me and my destiny.

Kayla (62:20)

This picture is cursed. I think it channels Elizabeth's death into its victims.

Marcus (62:24)

Thought you said Lizzy's not the murdering type.

Kayla (62:27)

I don't think she has a choice.

Marcus (62:29)

Kind of a stretch. Besides, think of the horror convention. More subscribers, more exposure.

Kayla (62:34)

Remember, no one needs Internet clout, you dork.

Marcus (62:38)

The fact you're so keyed up makes me want to debunk it even more. I waved a hand. Can't you just do your protection thing?

David Cummings (62:46)

Gonna work a spell.

Marcus (62:48)

Joe eyed K's bracelet eagerly.

Kayla (62:51)

Something like that.

Marcus (62:53)

She closed her eyes and breathed out slowly, fingers shuffling through the charms until they separated one from the rest. The cobalt blue eyeball? Fantastic. The creepy one. But I remained still while my best friend circled me, muttering words in a language I didn't recognize and occasionally punctuated by my name. Satisfied?

Kayla (63:15)

No.

Marcus (63:16)

But Kay raised her own phone to record. I stood next to the photograph and mirrored her. She and Jo appeared in frame, a portrait of anxiety and eagerness. I flipped to the selfie camera and they disappeared, replaced by my excited gaze. I leaned in so my head hovered near Lizzie's. Tiny crinkles creased her eyelids, the outline of her dark hair against the wicker slightly blurry. Goosebumps peppered my arms. That's what seemed off. I stared at the woman's outline. Not the sharp solid stillness of death, but soft and unsteady. Elizabeth spent her last moments alive during this photograph. Did Mr. Hartwood grip his wife's shoulder to keep her in place while the poison finished its work? My hand wavered.

David Cummings (64:03)

Getting cold feet, Mr. Skeptic?

Kayla (64:05)

It's okay, Mark. Let's just leave.

Marcus (64:08)

My friend's eyes met mine over the the camera. Despite my teasing about her beliefs, I always felt steady around Kay. Safe. We got this. Everyone froze. The creepy eyed charm swung gently back and forth from Kayla's wrist. I couldn't help but watch it. The pupil once again fixed unerringly toward me. Five seconds passed. Ten. Fifteen. I let out a breath and grin, finally tearing my gaze away from the evil eye. Still alive, Joe looked a little green.

David Cummings (64:44)

Honestly, didn't think you were gonna do it. Looks like your mystic is as powerful as the rumors say.

Marcus (64:51)

He beamed at Kayla that or the Heartwoods had a genetic heart condition. I punched the air triumphantly. Killer's selfie officially debunked. Kay sent me her video proof of my victory, and I motioned her over. We need a picture for the episode. Thumbnail.

Kayla (65:07)

I am not standing there.

Marcus (65:09)

A pastoral landscape of what I presume to be the Heartwoods grounds hung Kitty corner from the death portrait. I pointed to it. That boring enough for you? She relented and we stood together with our arms around each other's shoulders.

David Cummings (65:23)

I'll take it.

Marcus (65:24)

Joe pulled out an honest to goodness clamshell phone, potted it a few times, then scowled.

David Cummings (65:31)

Ah, no, that's not right. I hate these dang things.

Marcus (65:35)

K covered a smile while I handed him my phone. Here, just hit the big brown button. Joe squinted and held it up like a poisonous snake, arms stiff and straight like this. Mr. Heartwood's face smirked at me from behind the security guard's shoulder as he passed back the device without even checking the picture. I suppressed a sigh. Thanks, Joe. His bushy white eyebrows waggled.

David Cummings (66:02)

You know, my granny always swore Bigfoot stole chickens out of her coop if you want to check that out next.

Marcus (66:10)

Kay politely declined as I inspected the picture, drew in a sharp breath. The others crowded around to see. The image looked like someone snapped it during an earthquake. Kyle and I weren't in it. Elizabeth's head drooped next to Joe's. I'd forgotten to flip the camera's view back.

David Cummings (66:28)

No.

Marcus (66:29)

The security guard yanked the phone from my fingers with a shockingly strong grip. Panic covered his face.

David Cummings (66:36)

She's gonna kill me. You tricked me and now she's gonna kill me.

Marcus (66:41)

Kayla held up her phone in a soothing gesture. Easy, man. It's okay. We just proved it's not real.

David Cummings (66:48)

You don't understand. I saw the owner die.

Liam (Pest Control Worker) (66:52)

Oh my God.

David Cummings (66:53)

She's looking at me.

Marcus (66:56)

His eyes locked to the screen.

David Cummings (66:59)

She's looking at me.

Marcus (67:02)

He went bridged, his glass crack between his fingers. I reached out. Stop. You're going to break my phone. But the device clattered to the floor before I could grab it. The security guard's thin frame jerked as though attached to a live wire.

Kayla (67:16)

Joe.

Marcus (67:17)

The man collapsed, hands clutching his chest.

Kayla (67:21)

Call 911. I'm gonna get help.

Marcus (67:24)

Kayla ran for the elevator and I scrambled for my phone. Shaking fingers, I dialed emergency services and knelt beside Joe's convulsing body. Hang on, okay? Four hours and a few police interviews later, Kayla and I slumped in my beat up Wrangler parked outside her apartment building. On a sack of fast food untouched on the dash. My stomach coiled into a miserable contradiction of hunger and nausea. Joe is dead. Just drop it already. I'll delete anything with him in it.

Kayla (67:58)

No, it's all got to go. Every photo, every video. No exceptions.

Marcus (68:03)

My best friend looked shrunken, dwarfed by the passenger seat. Kay, I feel awful too, but the guy was like 80. And I'm still fine. Right? I cradled my phone, marred by a single hairline crack across the top. Kayla already deleted her video, so my device held our last chance at hitting the convention deadline. Posting this will push us over the subscriber requirement for sure.

Kayla (68:28)

Joe died. If we post a video, our fans will dare each other to take a selfie with Elizabeth. You know they will.

Marcus (68:39)

She rubbed her arms.

Kayla (68:41)

And she's awake now. Very strong and very awake.

Marcus (68:45)

I decided to sidestep her supernatural comet. No one can get to the basement. Need that special key, remember?

Unnamed Father (from Ren Seegers' story) (68:52)

Seriously.

Kayla (68:54)

We broke into places all the time, investigating his dumb kids.

Marcus (68:57)

Her jaw set so hard her chin trembled.

Kayla (69:00)

Delete those pictures, Marcus, or I'm done. No more investigations.

Marcus (69:06)

Shock washed through me. I opened my mouth and shut it. My fist hit the steering wheel. My shoulders drooped. Fine. I selected everything I'd taken that day and jabbed the lead, feeling like I'd been punched in the stomach. Then a notification popped up. Delete media from cloud storage. I hesitated, then tapped. No. Kay was just emotional right now. Hell, I was emotional. We'd watched the power of magical thinking take someone's life today. I handed the phone over with a twinge of guilt. Everything's gone. She checked it while I tried to look upset.

Kayla (69:48)

Thanks, Mark. We'll get to the convention in another year.

Marcus (69:52)

She gave me an awkward hug across the center console and got out. I drove aimlessly until sunset, wrestling with my conscience. Joe was dead. No. Changing that. Other ghost hunting channels would catch the story fast. Didn't our viewers deserve a first hand account? Kay would see that after she got some rest. I pulled into a strip mall. The cafe here had terrible coffee, but surprisingly strong WI fi. Not the first time I'd edited a video on the piece of an empty parking lot. The light pole above my car flickered as my phone rang. Kayla? I ignored it and retrieved my laptop, relieved at the full battery, cloud storage and editing software open. I burned through the video intro. My phone chimed. Got that quicksand feeling again. You okay? I swiped Kayla's text away and silenced my phone. Of course she felt terrible. Nothing supernatural about that. I kept working. Museum background section done Morning investigation section done. Loud pops split the night and white sparks hit my windshield as the light above burst the parking lot plunged into darkness. Cut that out, Lizzy, I joked aloud to slow my racing heart and continued my editing by my laptop's glow. Text snippets from K flashed beneath a crack across my phone. Can't find you. She's awake. I gritted my teeth and let them fade out. Finally, my mouse hovered over K's basement video in time for the main event. Acrid smoke hit my nostrils as my laptop screen went dark, its internal fan whirring to a stop. My heartbeat felt loudly in total silence. I felt around for the ignition and yelled like a superstitious idiot. I have a computer at home, you know. A battery indicator burned orange on the dashboard. I stared at it in disbelief and shivered, suddenly freezing cold. A pang of icy loneliness settled in my chest. If Kayla were here, she'd chant some nonsense that wouldn't fix the car but would somehow make me feel better anyway. My phone flashed briefly in the dark. Relieved, I scrambled for it. Even angry words from my best friend felt like lifeline. But instead of expected text messages, music blared offensively cheerful music from my silenced phone. The whole screen lit up and I blinked in the sudden glare. Memories Remember this Day appeared across the top. Beneath it, Kay and I stood under a rusted Heartwood Photography Museum sign. I thought, nagged in my mind, but the photo changed before I could grab it. A wrinkled face smiled up at me, delighted to give his favorite amateur ghost hunters a tour. Guilt burrowed into my stomach as I stared at Joe's happy face, remembering how it contorted as he screamed, the panic in his eyes.

Exterminator Team Member (possibly Walt or Andrew) (72:42)

She's looking at me.

Marcus (72:45)

All the air left my lungs as realization hit. Joe didn't show heart attack symptoms until he grabbed my phone. Mr. Heartwood survived until he developed the original photo. As if to confirm my thoughts, Lizzie's daughter gazed solemnly at me next to the frame of her dead parents. Just taking the selfie didn't kill you. Looking at it did. Like all Lizzie's patients witnessed their photos, but in death, the healer's gift twisted into something terrible. Revelation struck too late and my face appeared on the screen beside the death portrait. Bile scorched the back of my tongue as the bubbly music surged to a high pitched whine. Frantic text flashed and disappeared. I tried to respond, but my body felt paralyzed, pinned in place. My shoulder burned as though invisible fingers dug into the skin. No warding charm protected my eyes this time, and I felt them widen, locked involuntarily into another gaze. Elizabeth Hartwood stared directly at me from from her wicker chair, eyes a startling bright green in her black and white face. Kayla was right, I thought as my throat closed, hands clenching voluntarily as the first tremor ran through my body. She really did look sad.

David Cummings (74:41)

As our stories sink beneath the waves, we claw our way back onto dry land. Join us again next time when we plunge into the chilling depths where water hides its darkest secrets. The no Sleep Podcast is presented by Creative Reason Media. The musical scores are composed by Brandon Boone. Our production team is Phil Mikulski, Jeff Clement, Jesse Cornett, and Claudius Moore. Our editorial team is Jessica McAvoy, Ashley McInally, Ollie A. White, and Kristen Samido. I'm your host and executive producer David Cummings. To discover how you can get even more sleepless horror stories from us, just visit sleepless.thenosleeppodcast.com to learn about the Sleepless Universe. Ad free extended episodes each week and lots of bonus content content for the Dark hours. All for one low monthly price. On behalf of everyone at the no Sleep Podcast, we thank you for taking the plunge into our dark waters. This audio program is copyright 2026 by Creative Reason Media. The copyrights for each story are held by the respective authors. No duplication or replay. Production of this audio program is permitted without the written consent of Creative Reason Media. No part of this audio program may be used or reproduced in any manner for the purpose of training artificial intelligence technologies or systems. All rights reserved. Foreign.

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