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Visit simplyscarypodcast.com to learn more about this and our other weekly storytelling programs.Thank you for listening and enjoy the show.
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Good evening.I'm storyteller Otis Gyrie.And I ain't your grandfather.From where I'm from, we don't do bedtime stories.And if that's what you were expecting, You're in the wrong place.
If it's terrifying tales you're after, well then, I've got just the thing.Get comfortable.Settle in.Turn off the lights, if you dare.Your night is about to get a whole lot darker.Who needs sleep anyway? Ha ha ha!
Ha ha ha ha ha!Good evening!You're listening to Scary Stories Told in the Dark.Welcome, dear listeners, to Season 16, Episode 3.I'm your host, Otis Jarry, and here as well is my neighbor, Malcolm Blackwood.Hello, dear listeners.
I hope you are well this evening. And in this episode, we'll be performing four tales to terrify you, courtesy of authors James Colton, Dale Thompson, Craig Groshek, and James Thirwell.
Tonight, we'll hear stories of devilish dolls, weird worlds, aquatic atrocities, and morbid modus operandi. You're listening to the standard edition of tonight's program, which contains the first three spine-tingling stories.
If you'd like to show your support and enjoy an extended version of this and other episodes with Twice the Terror, visit SimplyScaryPodcast.com and click Patrons in the upper menu to sign up today.Thank you for your support.Now,
Time to take a walk together down the moonlit trail.So lock your doors, turn your lights down low, and settle in.The show is about to begin. We've been having some rough weather out there this evening.
I know I certainly don't want to be outside in it.I don't much care for being wet myself.
Do you not care to be wet, or would you consider yourself a hydrophobic?
Not sure I'd go that far, though I certainly don't care much to dry off after I've been outside if I can help it.
Ah, you see, I had somebody come inside earlier today, asked if he could stay in for a little bit.Thought he was being chased by something.Said he was afraid to be alone.So, did you ever find out if something was chasing him? Not really.
I told him I had to get something from the freezer downstairs and would be right back.Then I came over here.That was, oh, four hours ago now.
I guess we all must be scared of something.As irrational as it might be.
No fear can ever be truly irrational.It's perfectly normal to fear anything and everything, because all of it can kill you.I'm given a chance.
But you know, I have a tale or two to tell about fears, both rational and irrational.
The first one comes from James Colton, who would like you to know about a happy household with happy people and nothing at all mysterious or strange, except for one small thing.Without further ado, I present to you the figure in the hallway.
Once a year, my family would drive several hours north to spend a week with my grandparents in my father's childhood home.The house occupied a quiet suburb, a small white ranch nestled in the shade of an enormous oak tree.
The front door ushered you into the living room, a space darkened by walnut paneling, leather furniture, and the carpet color of pine needles.A large bay window overlooking the front yard provided adequate illumination by day.
By night, a pair of lamps in the corners gave off the barest amount of rusty light.One end of the living room opened onto the kitchen, from which could be accessed the garage and the basement. The other end led to a narrow hallway lined with doors.
The dining room stood directly across from the living room.Farther down were the bathroom on the right and the linen closet and master bedroom on the left.
At the very end, a small table stood against the wall, adorned with ornamental flowers piled up to form a sort of a pedestal, upon which sat a cloth doll. It wore a primitive gray dress.
Its face, sewn from pale fabric and framed in straw-colored hair, was utterly featureless.Directly to the right of this display was the door to the guest room.
It was here that my family slept whenever we came to visit, my parents in the double bed that filled most of the space, and I in a creaking old cot tucked against the wall. And it was here, one crisp week in autumn, that my experience began.
It was the first night of our stay.I'd woken in the middle of the night to a bedroom that was profoundly dark.The only source of light was a dim prick of orange marking the light switch by the door.
At first I lay still, listening to my parents' deep breathing, and trying not to disturb the creaky springs of my cot.But soon an urge I could no longer ignore forced me to rise and grope my way toward that orange beacon.
I managed to find the doorknob without bruising my shins on any furniture or luggage, Then I carefully pried the door open and ventured out in search of the bathroom.
I didn't mind the hallway so much in the daytime, or when the ceiling-mounted lamp provided its warming glow.But this was nighttime, and I dared not turn the light on for fear of waking someone.
Under these conditions, the hallway seemed to grow in the darkness, the far end retreating with every step I took.
Yet, even this I might have ignored as a mere curiosity, if not for the nagging sensation that, as I stepped out of the guest room, I was not alone in that corridor.It manifested as a tickling up my spine,
an ethereal pressure of eyes upon my back, but there was no space behind me for anyone to occupy.I would have bumped into them immediately upon emerging from the guest room.
As it was, in that cramped hall there was barely space enough for the table with its display of flowers and all.Logic, however, is weak consolation for a child afraid of nocturnal spectres.
I darted through the blinding darkness as quickly as I dared and reached the bathroom with its promise of light and safety.After finishing my business, I stepped back out into the hallway.My hand trailed behind me to switch off the light.
In that briefest of moments, before everything was once again pitch dark, I noticed a movement at the far end by the bedrooms. A human figure, shadowed beyond the reach of the bathroom light, stepping silently away.
Then the hall was plunged into darkness, and myself into panic.At first, I scrambled back in search of the bathroom light switch, but then stopped myself.It was only grandma returning to her room.
She must have come out to use the bathroom, and turned back when she saw it was occupied. but my heart still pounded in my ears, and so I reached back and switched on the bathroom light one last time.
The hallway, sketched out in merest outlines, was empty.The door to the master bedroom was shut, that of the guest room open as I left it, and at the end, palely reflecting the meager light, the empty face of the doll on the table. Grandma.
That's who it was.I recognized her nightgown.Once my heart rate had sufficiently slowed, I made myself turn off the bathroom light and began the trek back to my cot.
I still felt like I wasn't alone, but now the ticklish sensation was in front of me, slowing my progress instead of hastening it.
My hand swept across the right-hand wall until it found the opening to the guest room, and there I paused, turned to face the opposite door.A cold thought whispered through my head.If it was Grandma, why didn't I hear the door shut?
Still, I softly cleared my throat and then said in a small voice, I'm done in there, Grandma. Then I darted across the threshold into the guest room, shutting the door behind me as swiftly as I dared, and burrowed under the blankets of my cot.
We planned to spend the next day visiting the zoo near my grandparents' house.It was a hectic morning.
In all the hubbub of preparing to leave, showering, getting dressed, eating breakfast, brushing teeth, packing lunch, I somehow found myself just as we were piling into the car without my jacket.
I thought nothing of it, as children seldom do, but my mother did.It was a chilly autumn morning, after all.She sent me back inside while they all waited in the car. My jacket, I knew, hung on the inside doorknob of the guest room.
In my eagerness to retrieve it and part for the zoo, I didn't consider the path down which this brief quest would carry me, not until my rush through the living room was pulled up short by the glimpse of someone else entering the hallway ahead of me.
The glimpse was brief.Barely had I registered their presence before they disappeared behind the intervening wall.I stood there for a moment in stud silence, my joints unable to decide if they were iron or water.
Memories of last night's encounter stirred, like a sickly black dog raising its head.Then the sunlight from the bay window warmed and emboldened me. I crept the rest of the way forward and peered into the hallway.Empty.
The dining room across the way, likewise.All the doors were open or shut as we'd left them, and I'd heard nothing to indicate they'd been tampered with.I came here for my jacket, I reminded myself.Just grab it and get out of here.
I paused as I passed the bathroom, just long enough to confirm that it, too, was empty.Then again, when I reached the end where the doll waited on its throne of flowers, flanked by the two bedrooms.
There I stopped and listened for signs of movement behind either of the doors.Silence.Placing my hand on the knob for the guest room, I twisted it.Cautiously pushed it open. The room beyond was empty.I slipped inside.
My jacket was hanging on the inside knob.To retrieve it, I had to shut the door slightly behind me.I picked up the jacket, slid my arms into it, settled it properly upon my shoulders.
Then I raised my hand to the door, rested it on the knob, and then I froze. because I heard, from just beyond the door, someone breathing.Long, shaking breaths, as if drawn with great difficulty into shriveled lungs.
My eyes fixed themselves upon that gap between the door and its frame.I could see the corner of the doll's table outside, the gray threads of its dress falling over the pastel flowers. The table's polished brown leg reaching down to the floor.
Anything else, including the owner of those softly rattling breaths, was hidden by the door.I don't know how long I would have stood there, paralyzed, if I hadn't heard the front door open and my mother's voice calling me.
In the wake of her summons, the sounds from the hallway ceased. And I finally worked up the courage to pull back up the bedroom door and peek out.Mother stood at the far end of the hall, fixing me with an impatient look, and between us, empty air.
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My experience that morning distracted me all day.The animals at the zoo could barely hold my attention.At noon, we sat down at a picnic table for a lunch of cold chicken sandwiches.
I sat next to my grandmother so I could ask her the question that had been nagging me all morning.Grandma, was someone supposed to be in the house while we were gone? She shook her head.No.Why?I thought I saw someone when I went in to get my jacket.
Oh?What did they look like?It was only then that I realized I couldn't form a clear picture in my head.It was a girl, I think.I mean, I thought I saw a dress and long hair.I didn't actually get a very good look.Hmm, said Grandmother.
Maybe your imagination played a trick on you."But I didn't imagine it."'I'm not saying you did,' she replied in a conciliatory manner."'If you say you saw something, then you saw something.But maybe not a girl.
I've known it happen that a car driving by at certain times of the day can reflect the sunlight through the living room windows so that it creates a stripe of sunlight moving across the wall.
Perhaps you saw that, and your imagination made it into a girl.Could that have been all?I would have sworn, in the moment, that I'd seen more details than could be accounted for by a stray sunbeam and an overactive imagination.
But try as I might, I couldn't now conjure those details.All that filled my memory was a pale shape drifting out of sight into the hallway.
The harder I tried to picture it, the less distinct it became until I was forced to nod in acceptance of Grandmother's theory.As I returned to my lunch, I noticed my father watching our conversation from the other end of the picnic table.
He hastily buried himself in his sandwich when he saw me looking at him, but not before I'd marked his curious expression.
My inability to adequately describe what I'd seen bothered me so much that, when we got back to the house late in the afternoon, I immediately set about trying to draw a picture.
A reason that, since my memory was of something visual, a visual method of communications might be more effective.
I could see what my crayons had committed to paper, compare that with the hazy impression in my mind, and make corrections as necessary.It seemed to work.Once I was finished, I took a moment to examine my drawing.A girl.
about my age, wearing a grey sleeveless dress, white stockings, ending in a pair of dirty black shoes, a head topped with shoulder-length blonde hair.Only her face dissatisfied me.
In fact, there was no face at all, only a black patch of pale pinkish skin.But I couldn't think of any addition that would bring the drawing closer in line with my memory. And so I decided to leave it as it was.
I backed up my crayons, then took the finished drawing to the kitchen where Grandma was preparing dinner.Once I had her attention, I thrust the paper into her hands and was about to explain.Oh, she exclaimed, I'd quite forgotten about that picture.
Your father drew it when he was about your age.Where did you find it? Never before had I dreaded bedtime as much as I did that night.The very thought of walking down that hallway made my joints freeze up in protest.But it couldn't be helped.
All I could do was make sure I spent as little time in that shadowy corridor as possible.So my bedtime routine was one of quick dartings between the guest room and the bathroom and back again.
I dreaded the unfortunate glance that might cause me to see something I'd rather not.During one such excursion, my darting wasn't quick enough.For a heart-stopping moment, I saw it again.
No, it was just the doll sitting on its table at the end of the hall.But how striking the resemblance!The grey dress, the blonde hair, that empty, faceless face. One last darting and I was past it, shut safely inside the guest room.
I buried myself in the blankets of my cot and, most blessed of mercies, quickly succumbed to sleep.But not for long.I don't know what time it was when I awoke, only that mother and father were asleep in their bed.
As always, the room was so completely black that I couldn't at first tell whether I was facing the room or the wall.
It was the dim orange light switch that eventually oriented me, and once I'd fixed myself upon that lone source of light, I couldn't tear my gaze away.I knew that if the light switch was there, then the door was just to the left of it,
Outside of that door was the pitch-black hallway, and it was from that unseen space that those swift, soft footsteps came.At first, they were muted by the wood of the door.Then, a stealthy click.A change in the pressure of the room.
Without seeing, I knew that the door was now open.A muffled padding crossed the floor and approached my cot. I held my breath.The sound became a sliding, and I bit back a whimper as my cot shook, as something wiggled its way underneath.
Then it went still.I lay curled up in a knot of aching limbs, one hand clamped over my mouth to stifle my own breathing.The better to listen.To listen as beneath my cot. Something else drew in a faint, struggling breath.
I remained frozen like that for minutes that felt like hours.I imagined a figure from my crayon drawing.I imagined the doll from the hallway.I imagined something closer to human, yet that was all the more horrible for it.What was it?I had to look.
Somehow, I knew I had to face this thing.Slowly, I reached toward the head of the cot where I had a bag full of travel supplies, including a small flashlight.This I clutched in my sweaty hand, pointed it at the floor, switched it on.
My circle of light revealed the bedroom carpet. I gingerly swept it closer to the void beneath the cot, dragging myself right up to the edge so I could crane my neck out and down.I cast the light back and forth.There was nothing down there.
From one end to the other, nothing but bare carpet.In fact, I noticed that the breathing had stopped.Whatever it had been, it was gone now.
I levered myself up from my inverted posture, switched off the flashlight, and rolled back into my usual nighttime position.But couldn't.Because I'd rolled up against something cold, yieldingly solid.
Something that responded with an eager pressure of its own.I vaulted, screaming from the cot, and flung myself at the orange beacon of the light switch.
As the yellow light flooded the room, I spun, still screaming, to see my parents rising in a panic.Mother, scrambling her way over to me, asking, what is it?What's wrong?And beyond her encircling arms, my cot, completely empty.
When I was a few years older, I asked my grandmother where she got that doll. She told me she found it at a thrift store when my father was young.
It reminded her of a doll she'd once had as a little girl, and so she bought it, and it had occupied the table in the hallway ever since.Neither she nor her grandfather had ever noticed anything strange.
When I asked my father, however, a dark look fell over his face.Oh, things like that, he said. You never know what sort of history you're getting in a bargain.And that's all I have to say on the matter.
I hope you enjoyed The Figure in the Hallway by James Colton as performed by yours truly.
If you enjoyed that tale and would love to read more from tonight's very talented featured author, you can help support him by visiting simplyscarypodcast.com slash James dash Colton.That's simplyscarypodcast.com slash J-A-M-E-S dash C-O-L-T-O-N.
Thanks again for your support of this program and tonight's featured author.
So which fear do you think was greater?Fear of a dark, empty hallway?Fear of the faceless doll?Fear of a lonely bathroom in the middle of the night?
I'm pretty sure fear of something suddenly appearing in your bed was the biggest one.
Oh no, not for me.But then, I don't think anything has ever appeared in my bed by surprise.Though I have surprised an awfully high number of people when I've taken up a cozy spot under the beds.But those are stories for another time.
In our next tale, Dale Thompson tells the story of a man having a very strange day.Nothing seems to be working out, almost like the world is not quite like how it was the day before.
And surely there's very little more fearful than having the feeling you're not quite in Kansas anymore, Toto.
Don't you mean Kansas with an S-I-S?Sorry, I couldn't help it.We all know it's spelled S-E-S.
Without further ado, I present to you the Mandela Effect.
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Oh, what a morning drive it had been.Logan Morgan, along with everyone else heading to work that morning, was driving in torrential downpours from a heavy band of thunderstorms as it moved into the area.
Cold air from the north mingled with warmer air from the south, thus forming an enormous weather system that was covering five states.
Logan saw his exit, exit 14, and was thankful that he was now able to escape the bumper-to-bumper traffic, which had, for a while, had been at a standstill.
The wind was blowing the rain in every direction by this time, and as unusual as it was, Logan could not find his place of employment where he had worked for the past thirteen years.
He thought possibly he had carelessly passed the street where the business was.Straining to gain visibility, he continued to drive, looking for the next street to turn down in order to double back.
After several red lights, he turned right to head back to where he had come from when he saw his work.As befuddling as this was to him, he drove into the parking lot and was going to park in his usual parking space.
But it looked like someone else had decided they wanted the closer space nearest to the front door, which left Logan having to circle around the lot and taking a space two rows over.
In all the years he'd been employed here, no one had ever nabbed his space.He had no assigned parking space, but each morning everyone parked in the same spot as they had done previously.
By the time he made it inside, his feet were wet, but he managed to shield himself with an umbrella, so he remained relatively dry.
He took the elevator alone to the third floor, where daily he managed accounts at his own desk along with a few other accountants, all cocooned in cubicles.
When the elevator door slid open, he hesitated because this did not look like the third floor at all.Unless the hallway had been painted overnight, this was the wrong floor.
He stopped the door from sliding shut and looked up and down the hallway to see if he could make sense of this. This definitely was not his floor, but on the wall straight ahead it was clearly marked with a placard that read, Third Floor Finance.
The third floor was accounting, he convinced himself.Logan jumped back onto the elevator and for kicks and giggles, pressed the button for floor four.When the doors opened a second time, he instantly recognized this floor to be accounting.
As strange as this was to him, he opted to play along and went on toward his desk.When Logan reached the area where his desk was, he noticed there was a new employee who had made themselves at home sitting in his chair.
Uh, excuse me, but I think you're sitting at my desk.The woman looked up at him and said, Very funny, Logan.You know your desk is over there. The young girl pointed to the desk on the other side of the room.
Logan was even more perplexed, and, without saying a word, because the morning had been enough to make a man scream, he trotted over to the other desk where he found all of his belongings, including a framed picture of his wife and three children, which he kept to the right of the keyboard.
He sat uneasily and turned on his computer, but became too engaged in thought, rehashing the oddities of the morning.He just could not focus on his morning tasks.Logan was somewhat frustrated, but not yet annoyed.
That would be the next phase of this vexing situation.
He took a glance around the room, eyeing everyone, and again was scratching his head in wonder because he knew some of the employees, but others he'd never met before, like the woman who'd hijacked his desk.
None of this made an ounce of sense to him.Logan was not the sort to complain or throw a fit, so he went about his work, pretending this was simply a routine day. but knowing full well there was something abnormal happening.
Logan labored on with heightened senses, taking his breaks, all the while listening to see if he could pick up on anything, a clue of what might be occurring.
He could feel it in his bones that something was terribly off, yet he simply could not put his finger on it.The incident, with his exit, parking space issue, the different floor, and even the shuffling of his desk left him unsettled.
He recalled as a child he fell while running through the house, and his head smacked on the edge of the coffee table.
The scariest thing about the accident was instead of receiving a lump, he'd gotten an indention, which was immediately checked by the doctors. They found nothing wrong and sent him home with his mother, who had been concerned since it was unusual.
Now he thought back and suggested to himself, was it possible the doctor, just a normal general practitioner, had possibly missed something and now something terrible was happening?A blood clot, maybe?A tumor, perhaps?
It was merely speculating, but if something had festered in his head all these years, this could account for what happened to be the anomalies to him.
He supposed these discrepancies, these little glitches, particular glitches, could be the result of something terribly malignant, and if that was the case, he needed to go to the doctor right away. The parent floor shift at work was of great concern.
He would swear it was the third floor.But here he was on the fourth floor.This was far too elaborate to be a hoax.The complexities of moving an entire floor as a joke sounded absurd, even to him.He was over-exaggerating things, for sure.
Yet it was such a provocative notion. How could there be a single ounce of merit attached to it?
Logan carried on through the remainder of his workday, unhealthily obsessing over these unnerving incidents, which he hoped did not grow into malformations.He was visibly worried, and one of his co-workers asked him, is everything all right?
Logan responded with, just stomach issues, nothing major. After work, he didn't stop anywhere along the way.Truthfully, he didn't know if he changed anything at all, if possibly he would find himself lost.
It was imperative that he stuck to his routine without varying.He had to remain calm, not to shirk his responsibilities to his family.He was not going to say a word and simply played it cool.
The roadways were extraordinarily busy, still recovering from the rains earlier that morning.Logan eventually made it to his street after a somewhat anxious commute.Great suspicion had ventured from an unknown place in his mind.
He was intimidated by his own thoughts.For one, they were not very clear, and secondly, the discontinuity of his day was foreign to him.
He was a man of routine, remarkable scheduling, and practically ritualistic in every program and aspect of his life.He abruptly stopped the car.If someone had been following closely behind him, he would have been rear-ended.
He continued to apply the brake firmly, although he was dead still. He saw his wife's car in the driveway, and this was not unusual.She always beat him home in the evenings, seeing that she worked much closer than he did from home.
The immediate discrepancy he observed was that his house, along with her car, was on the opposite side of the street.He reasoned to make sense of it, intensely intimidated. He grew even more suspicious and questioned ever more, what is happening?
Instead of going straight in, he slowly drove past, his mouth unknowingly gaping open as if catching flies.He craned his neck all the way to the left, as far as it would turn, looking back, strained in the uncomfortable stretch.
There was no making sense of this. The only rational explanation is that somehow he came into his subdivision from the other end, which would have put his house on the other side of the street.That was inconceivable.He knew the road he had taken.
He had not deviated in the least.Logan muscled the car around and, with some lightheadedness and imbalance, pulled into his drive alongside his wife's car.
He got out of the car and gave his wife's vehicle a good looking over before proceeding to the door.He was on his guard.He did not know what he possibly could be walking into.
He noticed for the first time, not only was the house on the opposite side of the street, the floor plan of his house was reversed like a mirror of what he remembered it to be.
Whereas the bay window was originally on the left, this house had the bay window on the right.Logan used his key, thinking surely the key would not work.After all, it was a different house, a different color, and the key would not work.
A twist of the key and the door unlocked, just like that.Logan stepped inside.It looked like his house, only reversed. The sofa, the television, the bookcase, the lounge chair where he often fell asleep while watching late night programs.
They were all there.His wife called out, Hey honey, I'm in the kitchen.The voice sounded like his wife, but then there was a bark.They had no dog, but one came bursting through to greet him.
It was a mixed breed, a bit shaggy, maybe three years old, with long legs, and it planted its paws on his stomach, begging for affection.
He checked the dog tag and found the dog's name was Hebe, and this was his dog, according to the names and address on tag, Logan and Sherry Morgan.
He kindly pushed the dog off and away, then proceeded to the kitchen, where his wife stood over the stove. His kitchen, which was white with shades of blue, now had the exact countertop and appliances, but a theme of black and white.
How was your day, honey?His wife walked over and gave him a kiss on the lips.He froze up, not offended, but gobsmacked with so much new information to process.He shook the cobwebs from his head, pretended to be undaunted, and answered her question.
I have had a very unusual day, to say the least."And she replied, good unusual or bad unusual?She returned to the stove to stir a pot of something that had no familiar odor.Ominously weird, neither good nor bad.
Honestly, a bit outlandish, I would say.Sounds serious.We should talk about it over dinner. By the way, if you want to wash up, dinner will be ready when you come back down," she said, smiling happily.Bogan didn't know what to say or how to react.
He didn't know how he was going to explain to her that he was losing his mind.But if he was losing his mind, would he know he was losing his mind?Or would he simply lose it and not realize it?
Would he carry on believing that what he saw and experienced was the reality he had always known?His psychosis was on another level.He considered for a brief moment that he was dreaming, but that was not the case.
He was too wide awake and aware to be sleeping while this was generating in his mind. He remembered everything of his life before this date, yet this mind did not overly struggle to understand these new sets of circumstances.
He thought, maybe say nothing and get used to it.But a dog?More importantly, the children.Where were his children?Stark fear seized him, and he toweled off the water from his face.
and bolted back downstairs to find his three children and their mom sitting neatly at the table waiting for him to join them.His heart, which had nearly beat out of his chest in paranoia, found ease and sure relief in seeing their pleasant faces.
Logan took a seat while his wife, Sherry, loaded his plate.Probing for answers, Logan tried to be inconspicuous.How old is Hibby again now? Hebby, let's see.
Well, we got him from the shelter about two years ago, and he was maybe 18 months old at the time.So he's going on four years old, Sherry answered.Logan's children were Tommy, 13 years old, Travis was eight, and Annie was four.
Tommy mentioned, I think I'm gonna go try out for the swim team this year, Dad. Not thinking, but rather simply responding, Logan said, Swim team?Can you swim?The table broke out in laughter.Logan didn't know what was so funny.
You're so hilarious sometimes, Sherry said, musing.Obviously Tommy must have been a great swimmer, but Logan had never taught him to swim.What about baseball, Logan asked, not considering the ramifications of a wrong question.
Dad, I haven't played baseball since peewee league.I was never any good at it," Tommy reminded Logan.Logan remembered much differently.
In Logan's mind, Tommy was a star player, an incredible pitcher for his age, and he played every year that he could remember.Logan's heart was troubled.This was not his house.
These looked like his lovely wife, and those three innocent faces had the appearance of his three children, but were they really?He had to work hard not to overreact.He didn't know how sick he might be.He ate slowly.
Being the last one to finish, he left his wife and children to clean up the kitchen, while he returned to the living room and sat in his recliner.
He checked the left armrest because he'd accidentally burned a hole in it last year while smoking a cigar, which his wife had told him to take outside to begin with.The hole was not on the left armrest.
He examined the right side, and there it was, reversed as everything else in his new world of surprises.He refused to have a meltdown.He wanted to see how this played out. He was severely disadvantaged.
He knew nothing of this uniquely changing paradox.As incongruous as he was becoming, he vowed not to become erratic.He perpetually reminded himself, keep it together.
Sherry entered the living room shortly thereafter and sat in her straight-backed chair.So what were you saying earlier about having an unusual day?
Logan turned his head to look at her, and he wanted to spill everything like an avalanche, but didn't want to freak her out.Ah, it's been a long, puzzling day for me.Could I ask you a question that you might find wacky?Logan sheepishly smiled.
You know you can talk to me about anything, honey.Sherry assured.Did we talk about getting a dog? Do you mean Abby?"Sherry looked more intrigued than concerned.
Yes, because, to be honest with you, when I got home this evening I have no memory of ever seeing that dog before, Logan confessed.Do you have an accident today?Sherry asked, now appearing concerned.No, I did not have an accident or hit my head.
I'm telling you, I don't ever remember discussing getting a dog or buying a dog or living with a dog."Logan's voice sounded more strained.No memory at all.
How he had gone to the shelter with the kids and Abby came straight to you and you said, this is the one?Sherry explained.Not one second of it.Logan admitted.Sherry said nothing at first. She sat as if in deep thought.
When did you first realize your memory was going?I mean, we need to get you an appointment with a doctor.You're not old enough to have dementia.Maybe you're under more stress than usual.Maybe it's a vitamin deficiency.
That would be a huge buildup of stress or decency and it only started today, Logan said.Today?There's more, he divulged.More than heavy, she asked.
Yes, it's been the entire day from the time I stepped out of the house this morning until I arrived back home.Things were off on the highways.The exit was wrong.Work was strangely unfamiliar. It's like looking into a mirror.
You know things are reversed, yet this mirror adds things.Are you going to be up for guests tomorrow?Remember we had planned to have company, Sherry notified him.The Humphreys?Did I get that right?
Logan asked in a hesitant manner as if he had expected to be corrected.Yes, the Humphreys.See, not everything was mirrored, she stated. The two of them spoke more on his apparent condition, for which they had no name.
Since the following day was Saturday, they agreed to wait until Monday for Logan to make an appointment with his doctor.Sometime in the night, when they were both sleeping, Logan began to dream.
The dream started with him being brought forward to a parochial council of elders at a religious building, but it was not a church.
The elders, of which there were six, stood with smiles of vulgar incredulity upon their faces, animated as if some sort of obscene event of extraordinary consequence was soon to take place.Logan knew he was dreaming, but he had no immediate fear.
One of the elders spoke in a cryptic low tone.We shall spare no endeavour to enlighten you. As impossible as this was for Logan, he looked the other way, not wanting anything at all from these mysterious figures.
He worried and was utterly doubtful that answers would come now or any time.May I leave, he thought to ask.You are free to do as you wish.This is your dream, the elder answered.
But there was something false and inconsistent in the manner in which these half-dozen robed figures stood.
They each had their hands showing from beneath their cloaks and with their hands lightly clasped at their chest as some sort of gesture of peace.This was when he saw the absurdity and profusely unexplained oddity.Each person had two left hands.
Logan was instantly warned of impending danger but pretended not to have noticed.Logan was unmolested thus far in the dream.He was frighteningly unfamiliar with his surroundings.He didn't know which way to go.
The elders saw his confusion and in unison they pointed with their backward hands and voiced, that way.Logan was not convinced and thought maybe they were misdirecting him. He saw Sherry, standing in the distance, in framed reminiscence.
His brain reeled in bewilderment, and by the time he made his way over to her, she had disappeared entirely.This caused his heart to ache.He took the blame for her dissolution, thinking he should not have been so eager.
He was premature in reacting, and this caused him to be alone again.The elders, too, had vanished before his eyes. Although his heart ached, he was resolute in his determination to find the correct path.
He heard a dog barking and somehow knew it was heavy.The barking became louder and he had a sensation as if water was being poured upon his face in some vain attempt to revive him.
Whatever was happening massaged the fears he had hidden, and disparity replaced his solidity.
He awoke to find that Hebby was standing over him, and the water was merely slopping lips from, most likely, either a hungry dog or a dog that needed to be turned loose outside.How are you this morning?
Sherry seemed to know that he had not slept well.I'm fine, considering the dreams that I had.Were they nightmares, she asked.No, not really. more or less profoundly useless in helping me to find answers," he admitted.
Without a measure of confidence, Logan, out of necessity, headed off to the toilet.He met his wife and children at the breakfast table shortly thereafter, and no one said a word while they all ate their breakfast.
Afterward, Logan went to the back door, opened it, and stepped out onto his back lawn. There was an apple tree ripe with fruit that he had never seen before.These excruciating torments were an assault on his cerebral cortex.
The information going in was such contradictions that it was literally painful when he discovered new out-of-place things.Sherry encouraged him successfully to rest today and do nothing.She proposed
You're not benefiting yourself, in the least, torturing yourself while trying to figure out what's going on.You need to alleviate all distractions and go through a normal routine today.Let me nurse you back to health."
You mean treat me for mental illness, Logan disputed.He caught himself and didn't like what he said or the vehemence in which he said it.He followed it up with, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so disagreeable.
You have every right to dispute what's going on, what's happening.This has put you in a volatile situation," Sherry said, having displayed no real emotion in her tone.This triggered suspicion with Logan.
He would not make the same mistake of overtrusting anyone.He stored away his apprehensions deep in concealment, deciding to be skeptical and keeping his speculations on alert.
This was his intuition, taking over as a safeguard while playing the game to see if his mistrust was warranted.Logan watched television, surfing one channel after another, gathering information as he went.He was not collecting it at random.
Doubtlessly, he thought more answers to his condition could be gathered if he could simply find the anomaly. and there were other disconnects as well.His normal news channel had an entirely different appearance with unfamiliar presenters.
When he inquired of his wife about the game show Wheel of Fortune, she vehemently denied ever hearing of it, although he believed she and he had watched it hundreds of times.
She spoke of a popular game show called Barrels of Fun, which he had no clue about. As the hour of the guests' arrival loomed, they prepared to entertain them.
There was going to be a couple of trays of finger foods and snacks, and they played cards as they did from time to time.The doorbell rang and the dog began to bark.
Sherry put Hebby outside in the fenced backyard so as to not have him jumping on everyone with excitement.He should settle down shortly and they could allow him back inside.
The children were upstairs in their rooms, leaving the adults to mingle downstairs.Logan answered the door, and when he did, the evening became even more problematic, ever more interesting.Logan hoped that the Humphreys did not detect his grievance.
He became impassive, and a decoction of his essence seemed to be extracted right then and there.He shoved the Humphreys in, and happily, they entered. Mr. Humphrey giving Logan a friendly pat on his shoulder.Make yourself comfortable.
I'll check on Sherry to see how snacks are coming along.Mrs. Humphrey suggested, I can help with that.
She began to rise from her seat in which she had just plopped down, but Logan insisted, conveying that they were the guests and to sit back and relax.I'll take care of everything. Logan entered the kitchen, eating a strong elixir.
Sherry recognized his distress as he poured a healthy shot of bourbon.They're black, he stated, wincing after sculling the drink.Of course they're black.They've never been anything else, Sherry insisted, aggravatedly.
This is not right, Logan protested. Does this mean you have prejudice?"Sherry sounded offended, loudly whispering, no, no, it's not that at all.You know there's not a racist bone in my body.
But I'm just shocked that even the Humphreys are not immune to this disease I have.Logan was practically in tears.Sherry held him, noticing that his body was shaking with anxiety.
Are you going to be able to do this or do we say I'm sick and call it a night? Though he was poor in spirit and insufficient in courage, he was committed, with all of his recent inadequacies, to move on with the knight.
Although this version of the Humphreys was not familiar to him, Logan opted not to allow this to destroy an intimate knight with close friends.
It was awkward, to say the least, with Logan not remembering certain things and being overly apologetic for his absentmindedness.
He made unreasonable excuses that he had been distracted by work, if he seemed somewhat disoriented, to not take it personally.Throughout the evening, they played cards, ate, drank, laughed.
But all the while, the Humphreys recognized Logan's inattentiveness and that he seemed wearily distracted.It became so apparent that Mr. Humphrey asked Logan point-blank, is everything okay?
Logan pretended he didn't know what Mr. Humphrey was alluding to, but then admitted, I've just had one of those off days, you know. Wrong exit, wrong parking space, wrong floor, wrong desk.It's all just mounted up, accumulated in my head, that's all.
Logan was not inebriated, but apparently it appeared to the Humphreys as a man who had been on some illicit substance.
Logan began to cry as the malignant tormentor of his thoughts and memories moved infectiously toward the surface in an obvious, virulent manner. Is there anything that we can do?"Mrs. Humphrey asked.Yes.
Be white, were the horrid words which proceeded from his mouth.White?Mr. Humphrey was not offended.He became palliative without understanding, but had inquisitive foresight.Logan, my man.Looks like you are hurting, brother.What can we do for you?
Logan leapt from his chair and tore at his hair.Sherry came to his rescue, but he pushed her lightly away.I've got to get back to the real world, he remonstrated.Now I'm becoming unreasonable.
Logan stormed to the keyhook and snatched away his car keys. I don't think it's a good idea for you to be driving."
Mr. Humphrey reached out and took Logan by the shoulder, but Logan jerked forward and away from his friend and stormed out of the house to his car.
As he slammed it into reverse, he saw his wife and Humphrey standing together like artificial intelligence in shocked amazement at what they were experiencing.Logan did not know where he was going.
In his hurry to get fresh air and to be free of the confines of his mirrored house, he'd forgotten his cell phone.But he justified not going back to retrieve it because there was no one for him to call.
Deep, dark shadows followed him on every turn down every street.His vision was obscured.Nothing seemed familiar.He turned on the radio to drown out the whispers in his fog-filled head. but none of his normal listening stations were programmed in.
He had all of the local on-air rock stations tuned into his radio, and now there was a blaring country song.Logan hated country music, unless it was old country, like Johnny Cash or Merle Haggard.
Right was left, and left was right, and eventually Logan came to a stop, absolutely lost in the middle of nowhere. There were lights ahead.It looked like maybe a small town.He couldn't force himself to return home right now.
He felt like a foreigner in his own home.He opted to drive into this unnamed town and find a motel for the night.Maybe he would just disappear altogether.He found a quaint motel and followed the lit signs to the reception.
A frightening clerk of some seventy years, or maybe older, stood behind the desk.He had long, unmanaged wisps of grey hair, with some strands falling over his face.He had inset eyes like dark caves, and sharp cheekbones with a narrow, pallid face.
Welcome.I am Ethelk.Can I book a room for you? The man's accent was early American, proper pronounced, and clearly recited.Can you tell me the name of this town?I've been driving for quite a long time and I believe I'm possibly lost.Logan asked.
You're now in Aglo.Esso gas station across the road opens up at 5 a.m.if you need to fill up.Attuck helpfully informed him.Thank you. Is there a place to eat?A diner or anything?"Logan was hungry, but not starved.
I'm afraid the gas station is the closest, and they have a snack machine.But Roscoe and Rockland are not too far away.If you're heading north, Beaver Creek is up that way.Not more than the dirt road, but there is an eatery up in that area, too.
Attuck mentioned.Oh, thank you.Logan said politely. Will you be staying only the one night, or should I make arrangements for two?"Attuk blared as strange thoughts germinated in Logan's mind.
There was something in the way that Attuk had pronounced the words that gave him pause to reflect.At that moment his heart was lacerated and his vision seemed to see everything oblong, leading him to believe he might be having some sort of episode.
A depravity was in the air, something base and evil.Suddenly, this cheap motel became sinister, and Logan did not understand why.
He witnessed a prism of black stretch and aggrandize from over Attuck's head and crawl upon the ceiling until the entire ceiling was dark. Logan could no longer trivialize things.
He believed there was an intention of Attic or other menacing forces to circumvent and subvert him, to influence him somehow.Logan regained his composure and turned to Attic.Attic, let me ask you something.
Attic leaned in as if to hear better, although Logan was speaking plenty loudly, and Attic was not hard of hearing. Is it possible for man to simply forget the majority of his life overnight and wake up to a new reality?
There was a cryptic silence, and then utterances resonated from Attuck as if his thoughts were scrambled.Then he gave Logan his thoughts.Reality can hide itself in our dreams, but dreams cannot mask reality.Reality is an illusion.
If you believe you are no longer in reality and you are not dreaming, then you are existing in death.You may, in fact, be your own reality, your only reality.Do you think this is an inverted world, not a created one?
Are you suggesting that ordinary reality no longer exists because you say so, which would mean all of this is imaginary, including myself? If you are looking for a substantial, tangible reality, you may be disappointed.
If you've become splintered, fragmented, then you are broken and are disposable, living in faithless faith.So what hope have you got?We are constantly changing.We are incomplete, imperfect outside of the modicum of reality.
Have you ever known this before? Some want the dream to become reality, while others want the reality to become a dream.Wherever you want to fit in is where you ought to be right now.I don't know where I'm supposed to be.
My world is not the same, Logan said.The world does not up and change because it wants to fool you.Only people change.We evolve, grow.
We hopefully develop maturity and emerge mature, ripe, having been more prosperous in the end than at the beginning.Go look in the mirror.The mirror does not lie.It reveals the truth of who you are, yet reversed.
Look in a concave mirror, or take a spoon as an example, and what happens?Your perception is dominated by the light and how the rays are reflected in different directions. If it is reality you want, wake up and do not look at yourself in the mirror.
You are only real if others believe you are real."I appreciate the philosophy, but right now I could use a long sleep, Logan said, taking the room key from attic and walking outside into the cool night.
Logan disappeared from sight, never to be heard from again. Some believe he went stark raving mad and the insanity drove him into the forest, where he most likely would have succumbed to the elements and died of exposure.
In Addick's account to the police who investigated the disappearance, he said, Logan was a man searching, and he never found it.He simply left and went where he was already.In fact, he is here among us now. But we are not living his reality.
Only he is.I hope you enjoyed the Mandela Effect by Dale Thompson as performed by yours truly.
If you enjoyed that tale and would love to read more from tonight's very talented featured author, you can help support him by visiting simplyscarypodcast.com slash Dale-Thompson.That's simplyscarypodcast.com slash D-A-L-E dash T-H-O-M-P-S-O-N.
Thanks again for your support of this program and tonight's featured author.
Do you suppose he got back to his own world?Or if he was really just hallucinating everything? Well, that's an awful lot to hallucinate, wouldn't you say?I've certainly met a few people that have hallucinated a lot of things.
I should know, since I read the side effects of the things I've put in their drinks.Speaking of having read, I have to tell you about a lovely little story I happened upon.
I know you were talking about being upset when you get a little wet, but some people tend to have, well, stronger feelings about the rain.
And as this story from Chilling Tales founder Craig Groshek will show, sometimes they are absolutely right to feel that way.Settle down and settle in as I tell you the tale of Ombrophobia.Part 1. The storm arrived faster than anyone expected.
Six-year-old Evelina McIntyre sat cross-legged on the carpet in her bedroom, a small cozy space nestled on the lower level of her family's home in Georgia.
The room, with its pastel green walls and neatly arranged shelves of toys and books, was usually a place of warmth and comfort.Her bed, covered in a soft quilt embroidered with flowers, took up the far corner.
and a low dresser stood against the wall opposite the door.Evelina's drawings were penned up all around, crayon depictions of smiling animals, blue skies and colorful rainbows.
But tonight, the peaceful space felt small and fragile as the storm gathered strength outside.Rain beat against the windows in uneven bursts, carried by gusts of wind that made the glass rattle. Evelina's parents, Lucy and Alexei, were upstairs.
Their voices and the hum of the television drifted down the hallway, mixed with the low growl of thunder.She turned her attention back to her toys, focusing on arranging her favorite dolls in a neat line across the floor.
A sudden creak from the far corner made Evelina pause.She glanced up, frowning slightly.The room was lit by the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting steady light on every nook and cranny.
Nothing seemed out of place, but then she noticed a small, dark patch spreading slowly along the edge of the carpet by the windowsill.She stood up, watching as the dark spot expanded.
Water was seeping in under the window frame, pooling at the base of the wall and trickling across the floor.The carpet turned a deep, murky color as the water soaked in, widening steadily.Mama!Papa!
she called, stepping back as the water crept farther into the room.There's water!Her mother's voice answered faintly from upstairs.What did you say, Evie?
There's water in my room!"
Evelina shouted, her chest tightening.She watched helplessly as the puddle spread, soaking the carpet.Her toys scattered around the floor, at risk of getting wet.
She dropped to her knees, heart racing, and began snatching them up, holding as many as she could against her chest. She moved quickly, setting the dolls on her bed one by one, but more water continued to spill into the room.
She grabbed her favorite stuffed animals, their soft fur brushing against her wet sleeves.One of her dolls, a small blue rabbit with floppy ears, slipped from her grasp and rolled across the wet carpet, its fabric soaking up the dirty water.
She lunged for it, her sleeves dipping into the puddle, but the doll skidded out of reach. She grabbed at it again, but the water made her grip slip.
By the time her mother appeared in the doorway, the water had risen higher, creeping around her ankles.Lucy rushed in, taking one look at the soaked carpet and pulling Evelina up onto the bed.
Come here, baby, she murmured, brushing her damp hair back.Alexei, it's coming in fast down here. Evelina's father arrived, his face drawn tight with worry.He moved cautiously through the rising water, his shoes squishing on the soaked carpet.
It's already this bad?he muttered.We need to block it off. He turned and hurried back up the stairs.Evelina clung to her mother's arm, watching as the water continued to pour in through the small gap under the window.It wasn't just a leak.
It was spreading faster, the flow increasing with every second.The room, once her safe haven, was becoming unrecognizable.It's okay, sweetheart, Lucy said softly, kneeling down beside Evelina.Papa will fix it.Just stay here on the bed, okay?
But as the minutes passed, the water rose steadily, forming a shallow pool that covered the carpet and swirled around the legs of the furniture.Alexei returned with armfuls of towels and sheets, tossing them down to try and stem the flow.
He ran back and forth, grabbing anything he could find—blankets, old clothes, even the curtains from the closet—but the water spilled over each makeshift barrier, spreading farther and deeper into the room.
Lucy lifted Evelina higher onto the bed, her voice tense.Stay right here baby, don't move.Evelina nodded, her eyes wide as she clutched the edge of her blanket.She watched her parents struggle against the water, their efforts frantic and hurried.
It swirled around their feet, soaking through their shoes, making each step slow and heavy. The entire lower level of the house seemed to be at risk.Lucy and Alexei exchanged worried glances, murmuring urgently to each other.
And then, Lucy's gaze shifted to the far corner of the room, and her face went pale.
she gasped, her voice strained.
The rabbit!Alexei, the rabbit!
Evelina's heart lurched.She twisted around, staring at the corner where Petey's cage stood.In the chaos and confusion, she had completely forgotten about him.His small cage was half submerged now, the water almost up to the middle.
The metal bars of the enclosure rattled slightly as the water pushed against them. Evelina cried, leaping forward, but Lucy caught her before she could wade into the deepening water.Stay here, Lucy ordered sharply, pushing her back onto the bed.
Don't move, Evie. Alexis splashed over to the cage, his face tight with panic.He reached down, fumbling with the latch, but the water was already too high.Petey lay motionless at the bottom of the cage, his tiny body limp and still.
The damage was already done.Part 2 Ten years had passed since the storm that changed everything for Evelina.She was 16 now, and while she had grown taller and stronger, the fear that took root that night had grown as well.
What started as anxiety around storms developed into a full-blown fear of rain.Her parents had done everything they could to help her cope.
They reassured her, tried to create a sense of safety whenever it stormed, and even enrolled her in weekly therapy sessions. The therapists specialized in childhood trauma, and over the years they explored different techniques.
Exposure therapy, relaxation exercises, even creative outlets like drawing and writing to express her feelings.The sessions helped, somewhat.
Evelina learned breathing exercises and ways to distract herself, strategies for keeping the worst of the panic at bay.But the core fear never went away.
Every time the sky darkened, every time she felt the first drop of rain on her skin, that same overwhelming dread returned.It was as if the rain carried a promise with it. A threat only she could hear.
No matter how much progress she made, the sense of helplessness always crept back in.Her parents tried to be supportive.
They kept umbrellas in every room, offered to pick her up from school on rainy days, and rearranged family outings to avoid any forecasted storms.But deep down they knew, just like Evelina knew, that the fear had become part of her.
Now, eight years later, it was autumn.The days were shorter, and the afternoons were often blanketed in a grey, overcast light.
The sound of the final school bell echoed through the hallways, and students poured out from their classrooms, their voices blending into a noisy hum as they made their way toward the exits.
Evelina stepped out of the main entrance, joining the small crowd spilling onto the sidewalk.They laughed and chatted, some lingering by the steps, others taking out their phones to call for rides.
Evelina remained quiet, her gaze lifting anxiously to the sky. Dark clouds hung low, blotting out the sun.The air was thick and damp, carrying a faint metallic smell that made her shiver.She knew what it meant.Rain was coming.
Her pulse quickened, and she adjusted her backpack, feeling the familiar tightness in her chest. She took a steadying breath, trying to calm herself.It was just rain, she reminded herself, just drops of water falling from the sky.
But her mind rejected the thought as soon as it formed, her heart picking up speed.Evelina set off quickly, pushing her way through the crowd of students and heading down the sidewalk.
Home was only ten minutes away, fifteen if she took the back roads.She imagined she could make it if she hurried. The first fat raindrop struck her shoulder as she turned onto a narrow side street, soaking through her sweater instantly.
Evelina flinched and glanced up at the sky, watching as more drops began to fall.They splashed onto the pavement around her, forming tiny shimmering circles that quickly spread and disappeared.
Her breathing turned shallow and she pulled up her hood, quickening her pace.The rain came faster now, falling in a steady rhythm.She ducked her head, focusing on the ground as she broke into a jog.The streets were nearly empty.
The other kids, long gone, their laughter and chatter fading behind her. Evelina's shoes slapped against the wet pavement, each step sending up small sprays of water.
She forced herself to keep going, even as the rain began to soak through her clothes, making them cling uncomfortably to her skin.Then, without warning, she slipped.She gasped, her arms flailing as she struggled.
Her arms flailing as she struggled to keep her balance.Her phone, tucked loosely in the pocket of her jacket, bounced free and hit the ground with a sharp crack.
Evelina's heart lurched as she watched it slide across the slick sidewalk, carried by the thin stream of water that was now running along the curb.
She cried, lunging forward.Her fingers scraped against the wet concrete as she scrambled to grab it, but the phone skidded away, tumbling toward the street.Rain poured down harder, making it increasingly difficult to see, but she didn't care.
She stumbled after the phone, splashing through the growing puddles, and watched helplessly as it struck the edge of the curb, teetered for a moment, and disappeared down a sewer gate.
Evelina skidded to a stop and dropped to her knees, staring down into the darkness.It was gone.Her phone, her lifeline, swallowed up by the murky rushing water below.
She reached out with trembling hands, fingers brushing the cold metal bars of the grate. No, no, no," she whispered, her voice lost in the roar of the rain.She peered into the blackness, blinking against the rain running down her face.
The water flowed swiftly below, carrying leaves and bits of debris, but there was no sign of her phone.Just as she was about to give up and stand, something shifted in the darkness.Evelina froze, her breath catching in her throat.
She squinted, leaning closer. There was a shape down there, blending in amongst the shadows.It was hard to see, more of an outline than anything solid, but it was moving.She was sure of it.She swallowed hard.
A soft splash echoed up from below, and before Evelina could process what was happening, her phone was tossed back up through the grate.It landed with a soft thud in a shallow puddle beside her.Evelina jerked back, staring at the phone in shock.
She blinked, rainwater dripping from her lashes, and reached out hesitantly. Her fingers brushed the wet surface of the phone and she picked it up slowly, half expecting it to be some kind of trick.But it was her phone.Her exact phone.
She turned it over, wiping at the screen, her mind spinning.It was wet but undamaged, save for a handful of scratches on its protective case.Her heart hammered in her chest as she looked back down into the grate, eyes wide and unblinking.
There was nothing there.The darkness was empty, the water rushing steadily past.She couldn't see the shape anymore. Hello?"she called softly, her voice thin and unsteady.Is someone there?No answer, only the sound of water rushing through the drain.
Evelina stayed there, crouched by the grate for what felt like a long time.Finally, she stood, her legs stiff and trembling.She glanced around quickly, half expecting to see someone watching her, but the street was empty.
The rain poured down harder now, plastering her hair to her forehead, running in cold rivulets down her neck.Evelina took a step back, then another, clutching her phone tightly.Then she turned and ran.
As she sprinted down the street, her shoes splashing through the rainwater, she heard it.A heavy, rhythmic splashing behind her.Her heart skipped, and she risked a quick glance over her shoulder.
To her surprise, the street was empty, but as her gaze dropped lower, she saw them.Large, irregular footprints splashing into existence, one by one in the puddles behind her.
The steps were broad and deep, much larger than a person's, and they followed her at an unbroken, steady pace.Evelina turned and ran faster, struggling to breathe as she scrambled to safety.
The house was just ahead, she could see the porch light glowing faintly through the downpour.She stumbled up the steps, her fingers fumbling with the keys, and threw herself inside, slamming the door shut behind her.
Panting, she leaned against the door, peering out the small window beside it.The rain obscured her vision, but she could still see the streetlight through the sheets of falling water.
The footprints stopped just outside the house, near the bottom of the steps.They shimmered for a moment, then slowly filled with water, losing their shape and blending into the surroundings.She backed away from the door, her heart still racing.
The house was dark and quiet. And as she stood there, the fear slowly shifted into confusion.Had she really seen that? Could it have been a trick of the light, or her fear playing tricks on her?
That night, Evelina lay awake, listening to the rain pounding against the windows.Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw it.
Those huge, misshapen footprints appearing in the rain, the empty street, and the feeling that something had been right behind her, just out of sight. She finally drifted into a fitful sleep, only to be plagued by vivid nightmares.
In her dreams, the rain was everywhere, pouring down in thick sheets, filling every corner of her world.And just outside her window, half hidden in the downpour, something watched her.
Its outline shifted and twisted in the rain, its eyes gleaming faintly in the darkness. Part 3 A few more weeks passed, but the unease lingered.Evelina couldn't shake the memory of those footprints forming behind her in the rain.
Even when the skies were clear, she felt like something was watching her, waiting for the right moment to reappear.
She avoided going out when it looked like rain, and if the skies darkened, she would rush straight home, locking herself inside long before the first drops fell. but the sense of safety within her home was beginning to unravel.
It was late evening and the house was quiet.The distant hum of traffic drifted in through the cracked bathroom window.Evelina stood in front of the bathroom mirror, examining her reflection, forcing a smile.
After everything that had happened, showers made her uneasy, but she still forced herself through the routine. She turned away, shivering as a cool breeze drifted in through the open window.
The skies outside had been darkening all day, and now the soft patter of raindrops was starting up again.Hevelina froze, listening.
The bathroom was filled with the sounds of dripping water, but it was the sound of rain tapping against the glass that worried her most.Her heart began to beat faster as the rain intensified, turning into a steady downpour.
She moved to the window, intending to close it, but the moment her fingers brushed the frame, she hesitated. Something outside caught her eye.The street below was dark, lit only by the occasional glow of a passing car's headlights.
Water splashed and pooled along the pavement, and just for a second, she thought she saw something in it.Something shifting.A tall, distorted shape standing at the corner, unmoving in the heavy rain. Evelina slammed the window shut, locking it tight.
The shape vanished, swallowed up by the darkness in the rain.She stood there for a moment, staring out into the downpour.But there was nothing now, just another late autumn shower saturating the empty street.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to turn away.It was just her imagination, she told herself.She'd been on edge ever since the day she had seen the footprints.The very idea was preposterous, she realized.Such things didn't exist.
Still, her anxiety remained. Trembling slightly and in spite of her fear, Evelina peeled off her clothes and stepped into the spacious shower, turning the water on.
Cautiously, casting one last glance at the rain beating against the nearby window, she stepped into the shower.Hot water cascaded over her skin, the steady stream drumming against her shoulders and sending steam swirling around her.
She closed her eyes, tilting her head back, letting the warmth ease her tension.The soft hiss of the shower filled the small space, drowning out the sounds of the storm outside, as she lathered and rinsed her hair.
For a few minutes, she almost felt normal.But then, through the haze of the shower spray, she noticed something strange.There, just at the edge of her vision, the water seemed to be hitting something solid.Something that shouldn't have been there.
The droplets scattered and spread, outlining a figure, unusually thin, standing along the far wall of the shower.Evelina's breath caught, her eyes widened, her body tensing.She blinked rapidly, wiping at the water running down her face.
The shape didn't move, didn't react. The spray of the shower hit it, bouncing off in tiny splashes, revealing the outline of a figure that was nearly as tall as the stall itself.It wasn't a person.
The proportions were wrong, too slender, too elongated.The head was bent slightly, its shoulders hunched forward, as if it were leaning toward her. For a moment, Evelina couldn't breathe.She stared, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing.
Then, the figure shifted. Evelina stumbled back, slipping on the wet tiles.She caught herself on the wall, her hands shaking.The water was still hitting it, clinging to its form, revealing the smooth, slick surface of something she couldn't name.
She watched, horrified, as a long, gangly arm unfolded from the shape, reaching out slowly, almost curiously, toward her. Her back hit the cold wall of the shower.She pressed herself against it, trembling, her eyes locked on the reaching arm.
The water ran down its length, outlining every unnatural curve.It stopped just inches from her face, hovering there.She could see the droplets sliding off its surface, dripping down to the floor in a steady rhythm. Evelina didn't move.
She didn't dare to.Then, very slowly, she cautiously lifted her hand, extending it toward the figure.Her fingers brushed against its surface and she recoiled instantly, jerking her hand back as if singed.
It was cold, unnaturally cold, like touching the skin of something that had never been alive.Its surface was smooth and wet, almost rubbery, and it left behind a strange oily texture that clung to her skin.
Evelina couldn't help but stare at her fingers.Meanwhile, the figure didn't react.It remained still, its arms still extended, its head tilted slightly as if watching her. She had to get out.She had to run.
Evelina pushed herself off the wall, sliding past the figure, her movements clumsy and frantic.She burst out of the shower, grabbed a nearby towel and hastily wrapped it around herself.She didn't look back.She didn't want to see it following her.
She flung the bathroom door open and ran down the hallway, water dripping from her hair and soaking the carpet.The house was dark, shadows pooling in every corner.
She turned sharply into her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her and pressed her back against it, trembling violently.With the exception of the faint, distant tap of the rain against the windows, everything was still.It was gone,
or at least it seemed to be.The figure, whatever it had been, wasn't pursuing her.She was alone, and yet the fear didn't fade.She had touched it, felt it.It had been in the shower with her, inches away, as if waiting for her to notice.
Had it been there the whole time?Exhausted, Evelina sank to the floor. She hugged her knees to her chest, shivering uncontrollably.It wasn't supposed to be like this.
She'd spent years learning to manage her fear, but this, this was something therapy couldn't prepare her for.The rain she had always been so afraid of may have been harmless, but not this.It wasn't in her head, no.It was dangerous, and it was here.
It was inside her house. It had been two weeks since the creature broke into her home and attacked her in the shower.Two weeks of fear, tension, and unrelenting vigilance.
Evelina hadn't told anyone what happened, not her parents, not her therapist, no one.They wouldn't believe her, or worse, they'd think she was making it up.Some days she almost convinced herself that maybe it had been a hallucination.
After all, it only happened when she was wet, when the rain was pounding down, when everything felt unreal. But deep down, she knew the truth.The creature was real, and it was still out there, lurking just beyond the safety of her walls.
Ever since that night, she'd made it a point to take extra precautions.She kept the bathroom window shut tight, even during the hottest days, and she refused to take full showers anymore.
Instead, she washed herself with a washcloth, using as little water as possible. dabbing at her skin in quick, nervous motions.Every time she finished, she'd scan the room, eyes darting to the corners, looking for any sign of movement.
She checked every window and door in the house before bedtime, making sure each one was locked and sealed, even if it wasn't supposed to rain. She kept towels by the windowsills, just in case a stray drop managed to sneak in.
And every morning, before her parents woke up, she'd go through the house room by room, looking for anything out of place.A puddle where there shouldn't be one.A dark stain on the carpet.A damp spot on the curtains.
Her parents had noticed the change.They tried to talk to her, ask her if something was bothering her.But every time they brought it up, Evelina would force a smile and shake her head, brushing off their concern.
She didn't want to worry them, and she didn't want to admit that she was being hunted by something they couldn't see, couldn't touch.If she told them, what could they do?Nothing.They'd only panic, or worse, start watching her even closer.
She couldn't risk it. So, she kept quiet and the fear festered.Two weeks passed.She jumped at shadows, stayed up long into the night staring out the window, listening for the slightest sound of rain.
She knew it was out there, waiting for the right moment to strike again.The pressure of anticipation built in her chest until she felt like she couldn't breathe.She needed to do something.
She needed to prove to herself, if no one else, that she wasn't delusional. The forecast called for rain that evening, just a light drizzle, no storms, no heavy downpour, nothing that would summon that creature.She could handle it.
When the first fine drops began to fall, Evelina stood by the back door staring out into the yard.Her heart hammered painfully against her ribs, her palms sweaty despite the chill in the air.She had to do this.She couldn't let it control her.
It was just rain, just water.She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and opened the door.The rain was barely more than a mist, drifting down in tiny droplets that clung to her hair and skin.
She hesitated, every muscle in her body tense, but then she forced herself to step outside.The cold, wet grass squelched under her bare feet, and she shivered, but she didn't turn back.
She moved farther into the yard, the drizzle soaking through her clothes.For a moment, nothing happened.She stood there, her arms wrapped around herself, staring out into the gloom.The rain fell softly, lightly beating on her skin.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and held it. See, she told herself, it's fine, there's nothing here.She exhaled slowly and opened her eyes, looking around.
The yard was empty, no shadows, no movement, just the rain, soft and gentle, pattering against the ground. She took another step, then another, moving deeper into the yard.Her breathing slowed, her pulse easing.Maybe it really was just in her head.
Maybe she was letting the fear get to her.Maybe her foot caught on something solid. Sending her stumbling forward, she gasped, throwing out her hands to catch herself.Her knee hit the ground, the impact jarring up her leg.
Wincing, she looked down and froze.There, half hidden in the wet grass, was a large, pale shape. She blinked, her heart leaping into her throat.It was round and smooth, its surface slick with rain.
For a moment she thought it was just a rock or perhaps a stray ball one of the neighboring kids had kicked into the yard and failed to retrieve.
But then she noticed the faint movement inside, a dark, writhing shape pressing against the thin, translucent membrane.An egg. Evelina jerked back, scrambling to her feet.
Her gaze darted around the yard, and she saw them, dozens of them, scattered across the lawn like ghostly lanterns.They glimmered faintly in the rain, their pale surfaces pulsing softly with an eerie light.
She could barely see them, their shapes only visible where the rain collected and slid down the thin membrane of skin.The creature had laid its eggs in her yard. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut.
It was nesting here, preparing for something.There were so many of them, clustered in tight groups near the base of the tree, around the fence line, even close to the porch steps.Invisible, except when it rained, hidden in plain sight.
No, she protested internally, terrified of the implications.This couldn't be happening. Then the fear morphed into something else, something hot and fierce.Anger.Fury.She wasn't going to let it take over her property, her home.
She wasn't going to let it spread.Her hand shook as she grabbed the old shovel leaning against the porch railing.She hefted it in trembling fingers, her jaw clenched tight.With a wild cry, she took aim and swung the shovel down.
The first egg burst with a wet, splattering sound, dark liquid spraying out in all directions.The tiny creature inside convulsed violently, its small limbs twitching, then went still.
Evelina swung again and again, smashing through the eggs one by one.Each time the shovel hit, each time another egg exploded, she felt a twisted sense of satisfaction.
But then, just as she brought the shovel down on the last cluster, a sound tore through the night.A high, ear-splitting shriek that echoed through the rain.Evelina froze, the shovel slipping from her grasp.
The rain poured down harder as if on cue, thickening into a veritable wall of water.She turned slowly and her resolve evaporated.It was standing at the far end of the yard, half hidden in shadow. The creature.
It was bigger than before, its limbs twisted and elongated, its head hunched low.Rain ran down its body, outlining its grotesque form.Its eyes, two pinpoints of pale, unnatural light, glared at her through the darkness.She didn't think.She ran.
The creature's roar split the air as it lunged forward, its massive form crashing through the yard.Evelina stumbled up the porch steps, the beast in pursuit.She threw herself through the door and slammed it shut just as it crashed against the wood.
The impact rattled the house, shaking the walls. She backed away, panting, her entire body trembling.It let out another roar, claws scraping against the doorframe.But it couldn't come inside.
Evelina watched as its form flickered and shuddered in the rain, its eyes burning with rage.It clawed at the door, its shoulders hunched.But the house was dry.It couldn't cross the threshold.
She sank to the floor, heart pounding, her hands shaking violently.The creature let out one final ear-splitting shriek, then slowly, grudgingly pulled back.It would come for her again, she knew.It wouldn't stop until it got its revenge.
But for now, she was safe. Part 5.The days following the confrontation were bright and sunny.The skies a clear unwavering blue.
Evelina breathed a little easier each morning when she stepped outside and felt the warmth of the sun on her face and slowly but surely the fear that had gripped her so tightly began to loosen.But deep down she suspected it wouldn't last.
It never did.Sooner or later the rain would return and with it, it would come back. A week passed.The weather reports remained blissfully rain-free, and for a while she allowed herself to hope.
She still hadn't told anyone about the eggs or the creature.What would be the point?The evidence of what she had done had vanished with the sunshine.The grass was green and unmarred, the splintered remains of the shells nowhere to be seen.
No dark stains, no broken fragments, nothing to prove that the eggs had ever been there. It was as if the storm had washed it all away, leaving only her memories behind. She knew what people would say.They'd think she was crazy.Maybe she was crazy.
After all, she couldn't explain any of it.Not to herself, not to her parents, not to anyone.So she kept it to herself, letting it gnaw at her quietly.She barely slept, lying awake at night, staring out the window, waiting for the first sign of rain.
And then, one evening as she was heading home from school, the dreaded moment arrived.Dark clouds gathered on the horizon.The air grew thick and heavy with the scent of rain.
The weather reports flashed warnings of severe thunderstorms, advising residents to stay indoors. Evelina's anxiety rose to a crescendo.It was coming, and this time it would be worse.
She hurried home, every nerve on edge, fingers trembling as she fumbled with the keys.The first fat drops of rain began to fall just as she stepped inside.Her parents glanced up from the kitchen table, their faces etched with concern.
"'Hey, sweetheart,' her mother said softly, standing up."'The storm's going to hit pretty hard.We thought we'd all stay in tonight.Maybe watch a movie together?'Evelina nodded, forcing a tight smile.
Her parents had been tiptoeing around her fear of rain for years, trying to make her feel safe.They didn't understand it, but they tried.
And after the shower incident two weeks ago, the one she hadn't told them about, they'd been even more accommodating. They'd offered to stay nearby whenever she took a shower just in case she had a panic attack or needed help.
Their presence, though silent and unknowing, made her feel better.She glanced at the windows, double-checking that they were shut tight.No stray drafts, no gaps, nothing that would let the rain inside.Her mother caught her eye and smiled gently.
Don't worry.Everything's locked up.You're safe."The words were meant to reassure her, but they didn't.Not really.Evelina swallowed hard, nodding again.She had to act normal.Had to keep it together. Yeah, I know," she murmured.
I think I'm going to take a quick shower before the storm really hits, if that's okay."The father frowned slightly, glancing out the window at the thickening clouds.Now?Are you sure?I thought you— It's fine," Evelina said quickly.
I'll just be a few minutes.I'll leave the door unlocked.You can check on me if you want. Her parents exchanged a worried look, but nodded.Her mother stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair back from her face.
If you need anything, we'll be right here, OK?We won't go anywhere.The tightness in her chest eased just a little.She managed a small, grateful smile.OK, thanks, Mama.
The sound of the rain picked up as she made her way to the bathroom, the steady patter turning into a drumming roar.She paused at the doorway, taking a deep breath.It was just a shower, just water.She'd been fine before, hadn't she?
She'd taken showers every day while it was dry and nothing had happened.But then it hadn't rained. She shook her head sharply, pushing the thought away.She was being ridiculous.It was all in her head.She had checked every window, every door.
The house was dry.She was safe.It couldn't cross the threshold.There were rules, rules that protected her. Evelina turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature until steam began to rise.
She stripped off her clothes quickly, stepping under the spray.Hot water cascaded over her shoulders, the familiar rhythm soothing.She closed her eyes, taking deep, measured breaths. It was fine.Everything was fine.
She let the warmth ease her muscles, washing away the tension.She could hear her parents talking softly in the other room, their voices a comforting murmur beneath the sound of the water.
Outside, occasional lightning strikes cast harsh, fleeting shadows across the walls. Then the wind picked up, rattling the window panes.Evelina's eyes snapped open.She turned, glancing at the closed bathroom window.
Water trickled down the glass in thin rivulets.It was just rain, just a storm.She forced herself to look away, reaching for the shampoo.
She rubbed it into her hair, trying to ignore the way her pulse raced, the way her skin prickled with a faint, lingering unease. But then a drop of water slid down her cheek, a cold, unexpected droplet that didn't belong.
Her hand froze halfway through rinsing her hair.The water was still hot, pouring steadily from the showerhead, but that drop, it was icy like rainwater. Slowly, heart pounding, she turned back to the window.
The glass was dark and slick with rain, but there, at the very edge, something moved.A small, thin stream of water slid down the frame, collecting in a tiny puddle at the base.Her blood ran cold. No, no, no.
Before she could react, the window shattered.Glass exploded inward, spraying the bathroom in sharp, glittering fragments.Evelina screamed, stumbling back and slipping on the wet tiles.
Her arms flailed wildly as she tried to catch herself, but her foot got caught on the lip of the shower stall, sending her crashing to the floor.
The creature loomed in the jagged hole where the window had been, its massive form half-hidden in the swirling rain.Water ran down its limbs, pooling beneath it, its claws scraped against the walls, leaving deep, splintering gouges.
Evelina scrambled backward, eyes wide with terror.She tried to scream again, but the sound stuck in her throat, choking her.It lunged forward, its long, sinuous arms wrapping around her waist.The touch was icy and sleek, like touching a corpse.
She kicked out desperately, but it held her tight, yanking her out of the stall and onto the cold, wet floor.Rain poured in through the broken window, soaking her skin and mingling with the water from the shower.
Let me go, Evelina shrieked, struggling wildly, but it didn't respond.It only tightened its grip, dragging her closer to the window's remains.Outside, the storm raged, lightning flashing wildly.
Defenseless, Evelina gasped as the creature yanked her through the broken window, its claws biting into her exposed skin. The rain poured down in a blinding torrent, soaking her instantly.
At once, the creature's grip tightened, the claws around her waist digging deeper, and she cried out in pain, her voice lost in the roar of the storm.
Evelina sobbed, twisting and kicking, but the beast only squeezed harder, pulling her further from the house.In desperation, she dug her heels into the mud, doing whatever she could to buy herself more time.
Each drop of rain felt like a needle against her bare skin.She thrashed and clawed at the ground, trying to gain some sort of purchase, but it was useless.The thing was too strong.
The creature lifted her off the ground, its claws shifting, moving around her body until they closed around her throat.Her vision blurred as it crushed her throat, cutting off her oxygen.Pain flared through her body, sharp and searing.
She could feel its frigid, slippery skin against her neck, the way it seemed to pulse and writhe against her flesh.She kicked out blindly, struggling to break free. Her father's voice rang out through the storm, high and desperate.
Evelina blinked, gasping for breath, her head whipping around.Her parents stood at the edge of the yard, their faces pale with a mixture of horror, shock, and confusion. Hevelina, I'm coming!"Alexei roared, sprinting across the yard.
He snatched up the old shovel from where it lay abandoned by the porch, gripping the handle tightly.
Lightning flashed again, and for a moment his face was a mask of pure, furious determination as he caught sight of the near-invisible presence assaulting his daughter. Let her go!"he screamed.
He swung the shovel with all his strength, the metal blade whistling through the air, but it passed right through the creature, slicing harmlessly through its form as if it were made of smoke.
Only the rain reacted, the droplets rippling and scattering as the blade cut through.Stop!Lucy screamed, tears streaming down her face.Let her go!
The creature ignored them, its claws tightened around Evelina's neck, squeezing until she gagged, her vision exploding with stars.She could see her mother's face distorted by fear and rain.
She could see her father swinging the shovel uselessly, his face twisted in rage and helplessness.It was going to kill her.It was going to choke the life out of her right here in front of them.
Then suddenly her mother lunged forward, grabbing Evelina's arm.No, Lucy cried, pulling with all her strength, you're not taking her. The creature hissed, a sound that vibrated through the air.
It yanked back, its claws digging deeper into Evelina's flesh, but Lucy held on, her grip ironclad.She dug her nails into Evelina's skin, refusing to let go.
Her father dropped the shovel and grabbed Evelina's other arm, hauling her backward with all his strength.For a moment, they were caught in a brutal tug of war.Evelina's body stretched between them.
Pain lanced through her shoulders, her joints screaming in protest.She could feel the creature pulling her, its cold, unyielding grip tightening.But then, with a final violent tug, they pulled her free.
Evelina collapsed onto the wet grass, gasping for breath.The creature reared back, its form flickering in the rain. For a moment it seemed to swell, towering over them, its eyes blazing with rage.Then it lunged forward again, its claws outstretched.
Get inside!Alexei shouted, dragging Evelina toward the porch.Go!They stumbled up the steps, Evelina half-carried between them.The creature followed, its claws raking deep gouges into the wood.
But as they crossed the threshold it stopped, its form shuddering violently. It can't get me when I'm dry.Hurry!"Evelina cried, her voice high and panicked.It can't hurt me when I'm dry.
Lucy yanked a towel off the coat rack and wrapped it around Evelina, rubbing frantically at her wet skin.The creature howled, a sound of pure animal rage.It clawed at the doorway, but the air inside was dry, safe.
Evelina watched, shaking uncontrollably as the beast's form flickered and faded, the rain sliding off its oily limbs.Slowly, it pulled back. Evelina sat on the floor shivering violently.
The towel was rough against her skin, but she clung to it like a lifeline.Her mother's arms wrapped around her, pulling her close and whispering soothing words.Outside, the creature paced along the edge of the porch, its eyes never leaving her.
The storm raged on, the rain hammering against the windows, but thankfully the thing didn't come inside. Not this time.Part 6 The next few days passed in a burr of confusion and fear.
Evelina's entire body ached, covered in bruises and scratches from the creature's attack.She stayed in bed, trembling at every sound, every shadow that moved outside her window.The storm had passed, but her fear lingered.
Her parents hovered anxiously watching her every move.They took turns sitting by her bedside, holding her hand, speaking in soft tones.They called her therapists, consulted doctors, reached out to anyone they thought could help.
But no one could understand what had happened.How could they?None of them had seen it, not like she had.
And even if they did see the aftermath, the splintered wood where the creature's claws had raked across the porch, the shattered window in the bathroom, the deep gouges in the soil outside, none of it made sense.
When the police arrived, they were baffled.They inspected the damage, eyes narrowed in confusion, murmuring quietly to each other.
They had no explanation for what could have attacked a teenage girl in the middle of a thunderstorm, breaking through a bathroom window and leaving no prints, no blood, and no other sign of its presence beyond the wreckage it caused.
Maybe a wild animal got inside, one of the officers suggested, shaking his head. Mountain lion, maybe.He'd be surprised how strong they can be."Alexei bristled at the suggestion, his jaw clenched tight.We would have seen a mountain lion.
It wasn't... Lucy squeezed his arm, her expression tight.Thank you, officer, she said softly, politely cutting him off.We just want to move past this. The officer hesitated, his gaze drifting to the broken window, the splintered wood.
He didn't look convinced, but in the end, he nodded.Well, if you think of anything else, you have our number.In the meantime, it might be best to keep your windows closed and invest in some better locks.Whatever did this, it's strong.
You don't want it coming back.It was easier for them to believe it was just an animal.Easier than accepting the truth. that something was hunting their daughter, something that moved with the rain.
After that night, Alexei and Lucy knew they couldn't stay.The creature was drawn to the rain, and if it rained again, they couldn't take the risk.Moving, however, wasn't something they could do overnight.
Selling the house, finding a new one in a different state, none of it could be done quickly. They needed somewhere dry, somewhere the creature wouldn't be able to follow.
Lucy had combed through weather records, scanning for areas with the lowest precipitation, the least humidity, and the most sunshine.That's when she suggested Arizona. It made perfect sense.
The arid desert climate, the low humidity, the lack of rainfall.If there was any place where Evelina would be safe, it was there.They made the decision to leave as quickly as they could manage.
After the attack, Lucy took Evelina ahead of time, leaving Alexei behind to finalize everything.She didn't want Evelina to spend another day in a place that was so vulnerable to storms.
I'll be right behind you," Alexei promised, his voice low and strained.He wrapped Evelina in a tight hug, his hand cradling the back of her hand.Just as soon as I can.You're going to be safe there, okay?I promise. She didn't want to leave him.
She didn't want to be apart from her father, the one person who made her feel safe.But the look in his eyes, the fear, the determination made her swallow her protests.She nodded, biting her lip.You'll come soon?As soon as I can, he whispered.
Lucy's arms were around her then, pulling her gently toward the car.Let's go, sweetheart.We're going to keep you safe.Evelina glanced back over her shoulder as they drove away, her heart aching.
She watched her father standing in the driveway, his shoulders hunched, the battle-scarred yard stretching out behind him.He looked so small, so alone.
But no matter how much she pleaded, no matter how much she begged, he wouldn't leave until the house was sold. Evelina took a small measure of comfort in knowing that the creature had never gone after her parents, or anyone else for that matter.
It hadn't touched her father, hadn't so much as looked at him, not even while he was wildly defending her with a shovel.For whatever reason, it was her it wanted, her it had marked.She was the one it was drawn to, the one it was hunting.
Two weeks later, Alexei finally joined the rest of his family in Arizona.By then, Lucy had already found a small, modest house in a quiet neighborhood, its wide windows and open spaces a stark contrast to their old home.
It was hot and dry, the air rife with the scent of sun-baked earth.No rain, no storms, just endless, unbroken sunshine. The desert stretched out around them in every direction, empty, harsh, and unforgiven, but also undeniably safe.
In Arizona, there was nowhere for the creature to hide, nothing to call it back.And for a time, Evelina almost believed it was over. and yet her fear of rain had only worsened.She refused to take showers.
She couldn't glance at a faucet without breaking into a cold sweat.
Instead, she resumed washing herself with washcloths, dabbing at her skin in short, quick strokes, eyes darting nervously around the room as if expecting the creature to slink out from the shadows at any moment.
Every time she finished, she would towel off until her skin was dry and raw.It didn't matter if there wasn't a cloud in the sky.It didn't matter if the air was hot and dry and still.
It felt like it was always watching, evolving, trying to find a way to get to her.To end what it started.To avenge the death of its offspring. Her parents tried to make things easier.
They didn't ask her to explain, didn't push her to talk about what had happened.They set up her room exactly the way she liked it, kept the house quiet and calm.They didn't mention the creature, didn't mention the rain.
but they were always observing her, waiting for her to crack.And sometimes she thought she would crack.She knew it was still out there.It hadn't followed them, not that she could see, but it was still very much alive wherever it was.
Arizona was better, but it wasn't perfect.You can run from your problems, she realized, but fear, if you let it, will always find you. Part 7.For nearly two years, Evelina's life in Arizona settled into a fragile, uneasy rhythm.
The endless sunshine and relentless dry heat provided a thin layer of protection, a buffer that kept her fear at bay.She threw herself into her schoolwork, keeping to herself and avoiding any activities that might bring her near water.
Her parents remained vigilant, Their eyes always flicking toward the sky whenever there was a hint of a weather shift, but the desert rarely threatened storms. For a time, it seemed like they had truly escaped.Arizona was indeed safer.
It was dry and harsh, defined by dust and heat.Rain was a rarer event, more of a curiosity than a threat.And with each day that passed without incident, without a single drop of rain, the tension in Evelina's shoulders eased a fraction.
Over time, the dark circles under her eyes began to fade. She slipped more soundly, no longer bolting awake in a panic at the sound of a breeze rattling the windows.
But some fears don't fade, they just grow quiet, lurking in the back of the mind, waiting for the right moment to resurface. The creature was never far from her thoughts.
No matter how sunny the days were, no matter how safe she felt, Evelina couldn't forget the icy grip of its claws around her throat.The way it had moved like smoke through the rain.She kept a distance from bathroom windows.
She avoided even the smallest man-made puddles in the school parking lot. stepping around them with exaggerated care.And when the wind picked up, carrying even the faintest scent of moisture, she would freeze.But the storms never came.
Time has a way of healing wounds, however, and as months slipped by, Evelina began to relax little by little.Her parents noticed the change, watching her closely.
They still spoke in hushed voices when they thought she couldn't hear, but even they began to believe their troubles were over.
Evelina eventually started leaving the house more often, venturing further from the safety of their dry, window-locked home.She even managed to make a few friends.Acquaintances, really.
They knew nothing of her past, and she preferred to keep it that way.They would never understand, and that was fine with her.If she was ever going to truly heal, she had to put the events in Georgia behind her.In fact, she was determined to do so.
It shouldn't have come as any surprise then that when she received the invitation, she accepted it. It came just a few weeks before her 18th birthday.
A girl from her class, Nina, one of the few people who had tried to draw Evelina out of her shell, approached her at lunch, a bright smile on her face.
Hey, Evie, I've got some friends heading out to Lake Havasu for the weekend, she said casually, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.My parents are letting me bring a few people, and I was thinking maybe you'd like to come.
Evelina blinked, caught off guard.Lake Havasu, a massive sparkling body of water out in the middle of the desert.She'd heard about it, seen pictures.The clear blue-green water, the house moats, the people laughing and splashing in the shallows.
Her heart clenched. Uh, I don't know," she began, glancing away.Come on, it'll be fun, Nina insisted, her eyes shining with excitement.We'll be out in the sun, relaxing, no stress, no school, you can just chill, you know.
It's not often we get a chance to cool off in the water. The water.Evelina swallowed hard, her thoughts racing.It was true that she had avoided water at all costs.No pools, no showers, nothing.But it was different, wasn't it?A lake was safe.
It wasn't rain.It wasn't falling from the sky, wasn't soaking into her skin, summoning it.It was just a lake.A big, still body of water.Safe. I'll think about it," she mumbled, clutching the strap of her bag.
Nina's smile widened, relief flooding her face.Great.Think it over, okay?Let me know by tomorrow.Evelina nodded absently, turning away as Nina's voice faded into the background. Her mind whirled.Could she do it?Could she force herself to go?
She hadn't been near a large body of water since they'd moved.It had always seemed too dangerous, too risky.But it wasn't like it would be raining.The skies were clear, the forecast sunny and dry.What could happen?
Maybe it's time to try, a small voice whispered in the back of her mind.Maybe it's time to start living again. So, with a deep, shaky breath, Evelina made her decision not to allow her fear to control her any longer.She would go.
The day of the trip dawned bright and cloudless, the sun beating down on the shimmering surface of Lake Havasu. Evelina sat stiffly in the backseat of Nina's car, clutching a towel and change of clothes.
Excitement was in the air, the other girls chatting and laughing as they sped down the highway, the wind whipping through their hair.
It was the first time Evelina had been away from home in months, the first time she had allowed herself to be near so much water.
Her palms were clammy, her gaze darting nervously out the window as they pulled into the parking lot, the lake stretching out before them in a glittering expanse of blue.It's beautiful, isn't it?
Nina said softly, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.Evelina nodded slowly, swallowing hard.Yeah, beautiful. They spent the morning lounging on the beach, the sun hot on their backs.
Evelina kept to the shallows, dipping her toes in cautiously, her eyes never leaving the water's surface.The other girls splashed and played, diving into the deeper areas, their laughter ringing out across the lake.It felt... Almost normal.Secure.
She found herself smiling, relaxing inch by inch as the hours passed.Maybe she had been overreacting.Maybe it was all in her head.Maybe.And then, just as she began to let herself believe it, the sky darkened.
Evelina froze, her blood running cold as she glanced up.Thick, heavy clouds rolled in from the horizon, blotting out the sun.The wind picked up, rustling the palm fronds along the shore.A low, rumbling growl of thunder echoed in the distance.
No, no, not here.Not now. Looks like we might get a storm, someone called out, their voice light and unconcerned.Maybe we should head back soon.Panic gripped Evelina's chest, squeezing tight.She spun around, her eyes wide, scanning the lake.
The water, so calm and inviting just moments ago, seemed darker now, the surface rippling ominously.And then she saw it. A shadow, deep beneath the water.Something moved, long and sinuous, its shape shifting and twisting.Evelina's breath hitched.
It was here.It happened so quickly she scarcely had time to react.The creature surged upward, a dark, writhing mass breaking the surface. Evelina screamed as invisible claws wrapped around her legs, yanking her backward into the lake.
The water closed over her head, suffocating her in an instant.She struggled, kicking and thrashing, but it was too strong.It dragged her deeper, pulling her away from the shore.
Her friend's panicked shouts echoed distantly above, muffled by the water.She tried to scream, bubbles spilling from her lips.It had found her.
The creature's grip tightened around her legs, dragging her through layers of shadows and silt, further and further from the surface.Panic surged through her, her lungs burning as she desperately attempted to break free.
Above her, dimly through the churning water, she could see blurred shapes, her friends standing at the shore, screaming and pointing.Their voices were faint, muted by the distance and the water pressing in around her ears.
She reached out, her fingers clawing toward the surface, but the beast yanked her down sharply, wrenching her arm.No, no, no!Her thoughts raced wildly, panic and fear clouding her mind.She couldn't breathe.She couldn't move.
The water was all-consuming, squeezing the air from her lungs, and still the creature pulled her deeper.Her legs flailed uselessly, her movements becoming sluggish and weak.
Then, with a sudden burst of strength, the creature propelled her violently toward the surface.Evelina's body broke through the water in a spray of droplets, gasping desperately for air.
She had only a split second to take in the scene, the wide-eyed horror on her friend's faces, the ominous darkening sky overhead, before the creature flung her high into the air.Her body twisted as she arced through the sky.
The wind whipped at her wet hair, her vision spinning dizzily, and then, with a sickening force, she was slammed back down into the water.Pain exploded through her chest as she hit, her ribs aching with the impact.
She tried to scream, but the water once more rushed into her mouth, preventing it.The creature didn't let go.Again and again it yanked her down, its claws cutting deep into her flesh.
Her friend's voices were shrill and panicked, ringing out over the lake.
Evelina, what's happening?Somebody do something!Help her!
But there was nothing they could do.They couldn't see the creature's massive form, couldn't see its talons tearing at her skin.Evelina lashed out, her foot finally connecting with something solid.
The creature growled, a deep, rumbling vibration that she could feel reverberating through her bones. And then it lifted her again, smashing her into the water's surface with resounding force.Her head snapped back, pain flaring through her skull.
Spots danced in front of her eyes, her vision blurring.And then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the creature released her. Evelina floated for a moment, dazed and disoriented, her body aching from head to toe.
She could barely keep herself afloat, her arms and legs trembling with exhaustion.Why, she thought dully. Why did it let go?But then, in the dark water below, she saw movement.
Dozens of small shadowy shapes, swirling and darting around her legs, their forms just barely visible against the murk.Her heart stuttered, her breath catching in her throat.No.
They were smaller, much smaller, each one no bigger than a house cat, but they moved with the same fluid, eerie grace as the creature that had attacked her in Georgia, the same sinuous, unnatural motions that made her skin crawl.
The creature hadn't let her go.It was feeding her to its young. A saw wrenched from her chest, mingling with the water as the first tiny claws raked across her leg.Searing pain shot through her.
Instinctively she retaliated, but more of them swarmed up, circling her in a frenzied whirl of movement.They clawed and bit, tearing at her skin, ripping through the thin fabric of her swimsuit.No, please, she gasped, her voice lost in the water.
She twisted trying to fight them off but there were too many, too many. The small creatures latched onto her arms, her legs, their tiny teeth sinking deep into her flesh.
She did her best to scream, thrashing wildly as they tore at her skin, each bite sending a fresh wave of agony through her body.Blood clouded the water around her, dark and thick, staining the lake's depths as her lungs filled with water.
Above her, her friends continued begging and pleading for help, their voices frantic. She could see their faces pale and mortified, their eyes wide with terror.But they couldn't help her.No one could.The pain was overwhelming.
The creatures swarmed over her, their tiny clawed limbs digging into her sides, her back, her neck.She tried to fight, tried to push them away, but her strength was draining fast.
The water around her churned, saturated by the writhing bodies of the creatures. One of them latched onto her shoulder, its claws hooking into the muscle.Her arm went numb.Her legs wouldn't move.
She could feel them tearing at her flesh, stripping away muscle and sinew, ripping her apart piece by piece.
Help her!Oh my god, she's... she's...
One of her friends wailed, the sound cutting through the chaos.But there was no help, no rescue.The lake turned red around her as her friends watched helplessly from the shore.
And then with a sudden violent yank, the brood pulled her under and the world went dark. Above, on the beach, her friend stood frozen in horror.
The lake was a churning, swelling mass of red, the water frothing and foaming, and then, slowly, it began to still.The surface smoothed out, the blood dissipating, fading away into the dark water.
The tiny creatures vanished, melting back into the depths. The only sign of what had happened was a faint ripple, a lone wave breaking against the shore.Evelina was gone.
Within hours, the lake was cooled off, police and emergency responders swarming the area.Divers searched the depths, combing through the murky water for any sign of her.They found nothing, no blood, no scraps of fabric, no remains.
It was as if Evelina had never been there at all.The authorities chalked it up to an accident, a tragic drowning, nothing more.
But those who had seen it, who had witnessed Evelina's body flung around and torn apart by something unseen, knew the truth.Something hungry lurked in the water, and it had devoured Evelina alive, piece by piece.
The lake remained closed for months, rumors spreading like wildfire.But eventually people forgot, as they are wont to do in the novelty of a tragedy wanes, the stories faded, replaced by newer, more mundane horrors.
But deep beneath the surface of Lake Havasu, hidden in its depths, the nameless, invisible things that had consumed Evelina McIntyre slumbered, waiting for rain.
I hope you enjoyed Ombrophobia by Craig Groshek, as performed by your friendly neighbor, Malcolm Blackwood.
If you enjoyed that tale and would love to read more from tonight's very talented feature author, you can help support them by visiting simplyscarypodcast.com slash craig-groshek That's simplyscarypodcast.com slash C-R-A-I-G dash G-R-O-S-H-E-K.
Thanks again for your support of this program and tonight's featured author.
And thank you to Malcolm Blackwood for his evening's tale.
thank you and oh my look at that the fellow i brought in is at my kitchen window he's waving he's oh there's something coming up behind him oh oh dear i guess something was chasing him after all well i shall bid you a good evening then it appears i have some mopping up to do now before we go
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Good evening to you, and with the tip of my hat, I wish you only the sweetest nightmares.Until next week, stay spooky.
Get some sleep, if you can.Thanks for listening.
You've been listening to Scary Stories Told in the Dark, a production of Chilling Entertainment and the creative team at Chilling Tales for Dark Nights, and a proud member of the Simply Scary Podcasts Network.
Visit simplyscarypodcast.com today to learn more about our network and our other amazing storytelling programs.Tonight's program was hosted and its featured stories performed by yours truly, Otis Jiry.
Selected stories have been adapted with the kind permission of their respective authors, Original music provided by Luke Hodgkinson and Jesse Cornett.
Sound design and final mixing and mastering provided by executive producer and director Craig Groshek.Programs, artwork, and logo by David Romero.
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