The Flight Attendants Won’t Stop Crying | CreepCast

This episode is brought to you by Progressive Insurance.

Fiscally responsible, financial geniuses, monetary magicians.

These are things people say about drivers who switch their car insurance to Progressive and save hundreds.

Visit progressive.com to see if you could save.

Progressive Casualty Insurance Company and affiliates.

Potential savings will vary, not available in all states or situations.

Welcome back to Creepcast.

Today we are diving into two stories of similar natures.

We've been told.

One of them is a fan-made story, or both of them are fan-made story, right?

Mm-hmm.

Yep.

Two fan-made stories.

Yay!

Two fan-made stories uploaded to the Creepcast Reddit because we are

welcoming in people, which is funny because this first story, which is probably the most upvoted story that has been submitted so far, is I woke up in the hospital two weeks ago.

Everyone seems off.

And that was uploaded to

No Sleep a long time ago and was removed.

And I believe the guy was banned.

So, Isaiah, do you want to tell us about the author at all?

Yeah, so the author, their name on Reddit is user CPaper7418,

but their name is Dean Boll.

Dean Boll or Dean Boy.

Their bio reads that they create short horror stories and upload them as narrations to listen to on YouTube.

So you can head to their YouTube channel.

We'll have it linked in the description where they do narrations of their own stories, which is pretty sick.

They have 161 subscribers at the time of recording, and we need you to get those numbers up.

So it seems that a bunch of people really liked this story.

It had over 2,000 upvotes on R/slash no sleep, and then it got taken down.

And he says, so he reposted it in R slash Creepcast.

And then as soon as he did, it got over 300 upvotes.

And then in the comments, he said, thanks for enjoying it.

It was top trending on no sleep, but got removed because I made a mistake on the original upload.

And then he says, was hoping it'd be appreciated on some other subreddits.

Someone mentioned that, you know, this is typical for no sleep.

And he replied to that comment and said, they low-key rubbed it in.

I tried to make them appeal and they were like, quote, decision stands.

Hope you have a wonderful day.

Good God.

So once again, we've said this before.

We'll say it again.

Any of you no sleep refugees, feel free to come to our shores for safety.

We will take your stories.

We will take your poor and your hungry.

I'm sure there's like a method for their curation and the madness that it is, but it just so much of it reads like a like a power trip, doesn't it?

Yeah, well, a lot of it's like

the idea is

with no sleep, it has to be real, right?

It has to come across as someone actually posting this scary story that happened to them.

So sometimes it's like, oh, you added a prologue.

Oh, you did this.

It's like normal storytelling conventions that wouldn't exist if it was a real story.

That's why at the end, there always has to be a reason the person is posting it to the internet.

Like with left-right game, that's why there was that bizarre middle ground of the guy like, hey, guys, posting the section because Bristol sent me the email.

Yeah.

So it's like dumb, but I also understand it.

But sometimes it seems like...

they take it too far.

Like he made a mistake and it's like, you wouldn't make a mistake in real life.

There wouldn't be a mistake if this really happened to you.

So kick it out.

So it's kind of of dumb.

But but he also mentions in other parts of it that he write he writes a lot more stories than this.

He has more stories on the way.

And Dean, anytime you want to send stuff over to us, we are more than happy to take it.

Yeah, and I will be sure to leave a link in the description to his YouTube channel as well, Dean Boy.

Otherwise, I just want to say thank you guys for listening on the audio platforms as well, such as Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and giving us a good rating.

It helps us out.

And also thank you to our awesome Patreon members who do support the channel and get all that fresh goodness.

Without further ado, let's just, I'd say let's just jump in.

Let's just jump right in, Hunter.

All right.

So I woke up in the hospital two weeks ago.

Everyone seems off.

Bear with me.

I know this sounds crazy.

Two weeks ago, I woke up in a hospital bed.

They told me I was in a car accident.

I don't remember the crash, just a blinding flash of light.

Since being discharged, things have felt wrong.

Not just slightly off, deeply off.

Like the world is wearing a mask and I'm the only one who can see the seams.

Little things were off at first, easy to dismiss.

But today, something happened.

Something I can't explain.

And now, I know for sure.

Whatever this is, it isn't just in my head.

This is real.

And I'm scared.

At first, nothing seemed too weird.

I'd never spent a night in a hospital before, so waking up in a sterile, fluorescent-lit room was bound to feel unsettling.

I brushed it off.

My parents were more doting than usual, but for people whose son had almost died, they took it surprisingly well.

At least, until we got to the car.

That's when the concern cracked, and the disappointment seeped through.

They scolded me for wrecking my O3 Saturn shipbox, calling me reckless.

The words sounded right.

Worried, even empathetic.

But something was off.

My mom's face kept shifting, Like she couldn't settle on how she was supposed to feel.

My dad, though, he barely moved.

It's okay.

So

I'm glad he followed up the shifting comment by saying she didn't know how to feel.

Because at first, I thought he meant her face keeps like changing.

It's like shape-shifting.

Yeah.

And he's like, huh, something's a little, what's wrong with moms?

No, I like this moment.

This is a little unusual.

I like the unsettling nature of a very classic

wine-drunk mom and emotionally absent father standing there.

The amount of times I've seen that at my friend's house, it's insane.

Even, but I like your friend's house.

Your friend's house, not your house.

No, no, no.

Definitely your friends.

My mom was smiling.

She was happy, and my dad was

drunk in somewhere else.

So

not quite the full picture here, but I do like the idea.

So when you think of parental disappointment, it definitely is a friend of yours and not you that you think of, right?

Is that what you're saying?

I told you that I had my own demons, but this one is the classic wine-drunk mom.

And the dad who's sitting there, I had this buddy, mom, glug, glug, glug, every goddamn night.

It was insane.

I'd be like, can I get some pizza rolls?

And she'd just be like,

they're in the toaster.

And you're like, what?

And then the dad would be downstairs and this lazy boy, and he'd just be watching Key and Peel in the dark.

It was so frightening.

I was like, okay,

I'm just going to go back out to the room.

Bye.

I guess what I'm saying is,

immediately I have a face to this person.

I'm picturing as my friend.

Sure, buddy.

Whatever you want to say.

Okay.

He sat rigid, staring straight ahead, as if turning his head wasn't an option.

But I could feel him watching me.

His gaze lingered in the rearview mirror, heavy and cold.

Each time I glanced up, I catch his eyes for just a split second before he snapped them back to the road.

But I knew.

I knew he never really looked away.

After the sixth time, I stopped looking away too.

The mirror became a silent one-way standoff as I waited for him to scold me through it again.

He didn't so much as glance at it for the rest of the drive.

It was a short drive.

None of this was cause for concern, really.

Nothing that followed was all that crazy.

But when we got home, I felt a shift.

Coming from harsh fluorescence of the hospital and the golden stretch of road outside, I wasn't prepared for the cool dimness of the house.

It wasn't dark exactly.

Mom always kept the shades open.

She liked the light.

But now, they weren't quite shut, just not open enough.

Like, someone had hesitated halfway and left them there.

My family didn't linger.

After some pleasantries, mom disappeared into the master bedroom.

Dad went back to work and I was left alone on the living room couch.

I popped a Tylenol, took a few hits from my pen in the bathroom, settled in.

The rest of the day was mostly silent, aside from the occasional sound of mom's bedroom door opening and closing.

I wasted time scrolling on my phone, barely aware of the shifting sunlight until a beam stretched across the room and hit my eyes.

I turned from my pillow to the armrest.

bought myself another 20 minutes.

Then another beam crept up, warming my feet like some kind of passive aggressive warning from the sun.

All right, message received.

Side, peeled myself off the couch, and mumbled, screw it, you win, before dragging myself to my room.

I was asleep before I could think too much about it.

So, hold on, he was lying on his phone,

and then

so it seems like daylight came too quickly, is what I gather from that, right?

I think

I just, well, maybe.

I guess I read it as it was on his eyes, and then that

so much time had elapsed that it was now at his feet or whatever.

And he was just like, all right, I better go to my room, unless I'm wrong.

The week that followed was unusual, to say the least.

It was summer break, and normally I'd be stocking shelves at Walmart or messing around with my friends, but doctor's orders were pretty straightforward.

You've got a concussion, don't be an idiot.

No standing for long periods, no heavy lifting, no unnecessary risks.

Fine by me.

I got a doctor's note, a couple of weeks off, and a temporary escape from the joys of minimum wage labor.

It wasn't the end of the world.

Part-time jobs come and go.

For now, I just had some headaches and a free pass to lay low.

Better that than risking something worse, whether it was from dreading work or from one of my friends intentionally checking a basketball into my skull because we're overcompetitive degenerates.

I didn't really care to go outside much.

The weather hadn't been as sunny as the first day I got back.

Clouds hung low, thick, and unmoving, like they were pressing down on the neighborhood.

Even when the sun did break through, it was weak.

Watery light that barely seemed to touch the ground just made staying inside feel more justified.

So I did.

You know, this weirdly reminds me of a story that I think we read for the Patreon.

Blackout.

Do you remember that?

Yeah, the

yeah, exactly.

I know.

It was one where the guy was in in the neighborhood.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

And there was someone else in the neighborhood, but that story wasn't well written.

So all of the strangeness came off as like, this whole town's abandoned.

I guess I'll go play with my Legos.

None of it made sense.

This is a much more subtle version of that where everything on first glance seems normal, but there's little inconsistencies he's noticing, like the way his mom pulls the blinds or the way the clouds hang and the sunlight shines.

It's a little bit off in a way that feels uncanny rather than like comedic.

I like the mixture of that too with a concussion.

Kind of interesting.

Yeah.

Almost like a justifiable madness, you know.

Yeah, yeah.

And not a scenario where it's a grown man playing with Play-Doh and making stick figures, like some other stories.

It could be.

Who knows?

We're not done yet.

Yeah, I get to the next paragraph, and he's like, I decided to make my Play-Doh soldiers.

So I got out of my easy bake oven.

Mr.

Stuffies likes his tea.

Room temperature, but not too cold.

I moved the Xbox from the basement to my room.

Okay, Xbox.

Oh, no.

The Xbox alone's fine, but we're getting closer.

I might have summoned something.

I apologize.

I moved the Xbox from the basement to my room.

Normally, that would have been a no-go, but if anyone asked, I just plead the concussion card and call it a win.

No one even commented on it, which felt strange.

Like, they should have, but didn't.

I just hold up, gaming, eating, zoning out in front of Skyrim lore videos in the living room, whatever.

Aside from family dinners, I didn't talk to my parents much.

The conversations at the table were dull, barely conversations at all.

Dad was working later than usual, often slipping away right after eating.

Mom was around.

I knew that much.

I heard her.

Bedroom doors opening and closing, the creak of the floorboards when she walked, the soft shift of her feet brushing across the carpet upstairs.

But I barely saw her.

Not in the kitchen, not in the living room, not even when I grabbed snacks at night.

I don't know why, but it's very, it's very unsettling, just the idea of just continuously hearing doors opening and closing from another room.

Well, well, see, it's funny because that's something if you know who else is in the house, you don't even think about.

Like with Kayla in the house, I'll hear her, you know, doing laundry, moving back and forth, and it doesn't mean anything.

But the way he's phrasing it, where it's like, I know she's here because I hear doors and something moving.

It's like, why are you phrasing it that way?

That's me.

That's me.

I don't like that application.

That's me.

Every time I'm in the room, I don't remember.

And I hear Allison shifting around and she shuts her door.

I'm always just like, what the fuck is she doing?

What are you doing?

What is she planning?

What are you planning?

Why do you keep going in there?

Where is she applying?

I see her and I'm loud.

I say, hey!

What are you doing?

and she doesn't respond as your scuttles

and run downstairs

she stares at you yeah

and then you run to the top of the stairs and you're like you think this is your house you think you have a right to do things here yeah where are you you think you own the place

kind of entitlement is that and then you start throwing things at her

very rare uh chinese vosses thrown down to the end of the stairs crashing he keeps a stack of them at the top of the stairs because when I first got to his house,

there was like, you know, this broken pottery and like, you know, porcelain all over the stairs.

And I got to the top and there's a stack of vases.

I'm like, Hunter, what are these for?

Don't touch, don't touch.

He hits me with them a lot.

And then Hunter was like, yeah, it's the game we play.

But like, she didn't.

Like, you could tell the way she talked about it, it was not a game to her.

And it was something that I probably should have told someone.

I'm telling someone about it now.

So I think that

these are my goodbye vases.

Yeah, Yeah, maybe I should have done something, but I guess that's what's in the past is in the past.

Um, come to think of it, I don't think I ever saw her downstairs aside from dinner.

Some groceries spoiled, which is weird because mom was normally on top of that kind of thing.

When I pointed it out, she took me shopping, which was actually kind of nice.

I got way more say in what we stocked the fridge with than usual.

That was a win.

But as we wandered the aisles, I noticed something.

People were staring at me.

Not in a casual, passing way, intensely.

Like they were trying to memorize my face, or maybe like they weren't sure what they were looking at.

Each time I caught someone, they snapped their head away like they hadn't been watching at all.

But the feeling stayed.

Not a single person looked like they could hold a normal expression on their faces.

It was like they shifted through raw emotions during the most mundane tasks.

I began to feel in danger.

And worse, I started to notice something else.

As mom and I passed people, I swore I could hear them pivot to watch me after we walked by.

I never actually saw it happen, but I could hear it.

The soft squeak of a shoe turning, the faint rustle of fabric shifting.

I wanted to ask mom if she noticed anything, but the words stuck in my throat.

If she hadn't, I'd sound crazy.

If she had,

I didn't want to know.

I tried to shrug it off.

I'd been a complete goblin for the past week, barely keeping up with shaving, and yeah, my facial hair was patchy as hell.

Maybe I just looked like a mess.

Maybe I was imagining things.

Whatever.

When I got back home, hopped on Xbox, made plans with some friends for later in the week, told myself I'd get cleaned up by then.

Everything was fine.

Everything was fine.

Two days passed.

Nothing noteworthy, just my growing awareness of how off everything felt.

Mom was moving around more.

At least I think she was.

I'd hear footsteps.

See, I don't like that.

I don't like his phrasing there.

I'd hear footsteps.

Soft shuffling noises.

It always seemed to stop right outside my door.

The first few times I brushed it off.

Maybe she was just passing by.

Maybe she was listening for signs that I was awake.

But the more I paid attention, the more it felt...

deliberate.

The house was dim, sure, but my room wasn't.

I kept my bay window shades open, letting in just enough light to make it feel normal, or at least less like the rest of the house.

The hallway outside, though, it was always in shadow.

There was only one time of day where light from the high windows in the living room even touched my door, and it wasn't now.

Interesting.

So he's sitting in his room,

and he keeps hearing something come up to the door and then stop.

But there's too much light getting into his room.

Like from outside of his room, there's there's a place where light's supposed to pass through, and at weird times of the day, it seems like he's being lit up.

Interesting.

That's I

like how gentle it's playing the horror card so far, right?

Like, very unsettling,

yeah.

It's like there's too much light, people look at me strange.

I hear footsteps, mom stands outside the door, stuff like that.

It works very well.

This is probably your childhood, hello, huh?

A little bit, yeah.

I did.

Well, I I did.

Is there a reason that you apply this to me specifically?

None that I feel comfortable talking about on the podcast.

Okay.

I did used to prank my sisters with a red light I had.

So I told the, have you ever heard the white with red story?

It's like a classic internet urban legend thing.

So it's this, it's this.

It's like the short version.

It's a creepypasta.

A guy checks into a weird hotel.

His room connects to a room next door, and he hears from the front desk that there's a ghost that lives in the room next to him.

So he looks through the keyhole one night, and he sees like a woman

sitting in a chair, like a ghostly bride-looking figure.

And then the next night he looks again, and she's standing upright over in the corner.

And the next night he looks, and all he sees through the keyhole is red, like something bright red looking back at him.

And he figures, oh, she must have figured out I was creeping on her.

So she hung like a scarf or put up

something red to block my view.

And then as he's checking out of the hotel, he asked about the woman that supposedly died there.

And the guy's like, yeah, everything about her is pretty normal, except her eyes that were deep red.

And I was like, oh, she was looking through.

He was looking through the keyhole and she was staring back at him.

Yeah, it was her eye.

So I told my sisters that story to prime them to freak them out.

And they were very scared.

So then that night, I would like walk around.

I would like run up to their door and stop.

They both slept in the same room at this time.

So I'd run up to the door and stop and they'd be like, no, they'd be like, or whatever.

So I'd like walk away and then

and like get up to the door and quit.

And they're like,

and then I had, I had a red,

it was like a red flashlight.

So after I did that a few times, I just held it up to the bottom of the door.

And this red light like shot across the floor through the room.

And as soon as I did, they both just, ah,

I was like, mom, mom.

That's a lot, that's a lot funnier and more innocent than I legitimately thought you were going to have like a military grade red laser and shine it through and they look through and you like blinded one of your sisters or something like that.

No, I never, I never hurt them seriously.

It was just scares.

I like to scare them a lot.

Like go put something.

I remember I had this fake spider.

like a tarantula thing that I taped to their window outside.

So the next morning when they opened up the blinds, like there was a spider on and freaked them out.

I do stuff like that.

I never heard them, though.

You're like 20 years old.

They made them stronger.

It made them better people.

So, yeah.

Well, I would have been like,

at the time I was doing most of this, I would have been like 10 to 12.

So they were the ages of like

six to eight.

Maybe 10.

So,

yeah,

I was mean, but they're better people now.

They're both, they're both, they both graduated college.

They're both successful.

I like to think I had a hand in that.

Okay, that's good.

And they degree.

And if they don't, they don't have a social media platform to counter.

So, you know.

There it is.

Can I tell you a secret?

I'm in desperate need of medical attention and care.

I'm so old, fat.

I'm falling apart at the seams.

But I don't know what doctor to use.

I don't know anything about doctors.

And that's why I use ZocDoc.

Zock Doc is a free app and website where you can search and compare high-quality in-network doctors.

Choose the right one for your needs and click to instantly book an appointment.

We're talking about in-network appointments with more than 100,000 healthcare providers across every specialty.

From mental health to dental health, eye care to skincare, and much, much more.

Probably dick and ball stuff, boys.

The nice thing about Zock Doc is that you can filter for doctors that take your insurance are nearby and are highly rated.

It's super easy to use, and you can find an appointment time that works for you with the right doctor for your needs.

Plus, Zock Doc appointments happen fast, typically within just 24 to 72 hours of booking.

You can even score same-day appointments.

Oh my god!

You don't want to admit it, but you should probably see a doctor.

So stop putting off those doctor appointments and go to zocdoc.com/slash creepcast to find and instantly book a top-rated doctor today.

That's z-oc-d-oc-c.com/slash creepcast.

Zockdoc.com slash creepcast.

That's why I knew I shouldn't have seen anything.

And yet, I did.

I heard her.

The same soft shuffle.

Glanced over from the edge of my bed, half expecting nothing.

Just another trick of my nerves.

For a split second, I saw them.

Her toenails.

Just at the edge of the door.

Don't like that.

I don't like that either.

The instant I registered them, they shot back too fast.

So fast, it was like they hadn't been there at all.

I don't like that.

God, what the fuck?

Mom, mom,

I see your tootsies.

Mommy?

Mom, you have beautiful feet.

But I knew what I saw.

The carpet where they had been left the faintest depression before slowly rising back into place.

Oh, oh, that's awful.

It's so quick the carpet rises.

The carpet came and catch up as fucked.

My stomach twisted.

Okay, that was it.

No more dab pen.

No more convincing myself I wasn't tripping out when clearly I was seeing shit.

I waited, listened, heard her shuffle away.

Her door click shut.

I exhaled, rubbed my face, and stood up.

Enough of this.

I needed to get out of the house.

Needed to see my friends, James, Nikki D, and Tyler.

The goal was simple.

Sober up, ground myself, and maybe, just maybe, bring up what was going on.

Over Xbox, they'd all sounded completely normal.

I'd only mentioned a few things in passing, nothing that set off any alarms for them.

But of our talks had just been about girls from our school, memes, and bullshitting in Rainbow Six Siege lobbies.

Maybe I was just overthinking.

Maybe everything was fine.

But as I grabbed my keys and headed for the door, I couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere upstairs, mother was listening.

That's so good.

Obviously, driving wasn't an option.

My car was totaled.

My parents handed me $250 for the scrap it was apparently worth, and that was that.

So how bad did he total it?

That they got $250 or that that was a reasonable amount of money.

to be fair it was a 2003 saturn

yeah but 250 dollars like there was like yeah you couldn't sell the radio

i think they i think they overpaid i think they overpaid them okay

okay

so i dusted off my old bike from the shed in the back i didn't even glance at the house on my way out Didn't need to see my creepy ass mom peeking from some upstairs window like a horror movie extra.

If I did, I'd probably swerve straight into traffic just to avoid dealing with it.

That's a reasonable response.

Instead, I shoved the thoughts down and let myself believe, just for a little longer, that I was just tripping balls.

That was safer.

That was better.

Besides, my odds were good.

I still had headaches.

I was still a little stoned.

I was still taking Tylenol.

Put it all together, and maybe my brain was just running like a lackey Xbox.

A lot of mentions of the Xbox.

I just want to say that.

Say that again.

What?

What did you say?

I said just a lot of mentions of the Xbox.

A lot of Xbox.

If he brings up the Kinect or something, I'm gonna, that's gonna make me, I'm gonna, it's gonna be over.

If the Xbox becomes a major player in this story, he's like, but then I turned to my Xbox and I said, you're my only friend.

And I turned on my Kinect and I started dancing.

I want to take a quick moment to thank today's sponsor, Tushi.

Tushi, it's the luxury bidet that your bathroom's been missing.

And over 2 million butts left, Tushi, and it's not hard to see why.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again.

If you don't have a bidet, you mean less than me.

I did not have a bidet for a long time.

I thought that they were silly.

And then as soon as Tushi sent me one, I now am someone whose life matters.

I'm not kidding, there's a few household inventions that have definitively changed my life, and Tushi's bidet is one of them.

I now feel like an animal anytime I have to use someone's bathroom who doesn't have one.

And you know this is a personal endorsement because this is far too aggressive for them to pay me to say.

Not only are tushy bidets more hygienic, but people who have made the switch to tushi use up to 80% less toilet paper.

And less toilet paper means more money saved, less clogged toilets, and less gross bathroom experiences.

Since the bidet does most of the cleaning and you use the toilet paper to dry off.

And of course, tushi therefore reduces things like irritation or tears.

Tushy is also super easy to use and install.

Depending on the model you get, it either replaces your toilet seat or just goes underneath the one you already have.

Remember, a-hole is only a dirty word if you watch.

And if tushi sounds good to you, and it should, then now's the perfect time to get in on the offer.

That's because for a limited time, our listeners get 10% off their first bidet when you use code Creepcask at checkout.

That's right, 10% off your first bidet order at hellotushy.com.

Promo code Creepcast to get your incredible offer today.

Thank you to Tushi for sponsoring the show.

We are now back to the episode.

I rode up to the high school football field in about 20 minutes and hopped the fence.

Everyone was already there.

James, Nikki D, and Tyler.

And what followed?

It was awesome.

The dab-ups were a little stiff at first, but once we got going, everything fell into place.

We had a pump, a football, which lasted about 10 minutes before it needed air again, and a frisbee.

The sun was bright for the first time since I'd left the hospital.

And for the first time in days, I felt good.

I'd shaved, I was surrounded by my friends, and I started to think, no, I started to hope maybe I'd just been missing out on real in-person socialization.

I almost fell for it.

I almost let myself believe everything was fine.

This is also

interesting because so far it could just be read as someone who has a concussion.

Yeah, that's a good idea.

It's just like growing paranoia.

We played for hours.

Eventually, we were wiped, ready to debrief before heading home.

I was closest to the corner of the field where the old water pump was.

So I went first, yanked the lever, let the water rush out, cut my hands, drink.

The others chatted behind me, their voices blending with the soft splash of the pump.

Refreshed, I wandered back to where we'd been playing Frisbee, flopped onto the grass, and pulled out my my phone.

The sun was brutal, washing out the screen.

I tilted it, angling downward to block the glare, squinting as I reached for the power button, and then I froze.

Because in the black reflection of my phone's screen, I saw them.

All three of them.

Standing at the water pump, staring at the back of my head.

James and Tyler's faces were wrong.

Their jaws hung open.

Too wide, far past what should have been possible.

It wasn't just slack, it was distorted.

Their bottom lips curled downwards just enough to reveal rows of teeth.

Their heads tilted forward, eyes locked onto me, shoulders hunched, arms dangling too loosely at their sides.

They looked like something out of a nightmare.

Like the scream, but worse.

Nikki wasn't as bad.

He was staring too, but his face shifted.

The same way my mom's did when she picked up from the hospital.

Like, he couldn't quite get it right.

And yet, their their conversation hadn't stopped.

Their voices came out perfectly, flowing like normal.

James and Tyler weren't moving their mouths.

The water pump was still running.

I had my phone up for maybe a second, but my whole body jerked like I'd been stabbed.

My fingers fumbled and my phone slipped from my hands, landing in the grass with a soft thud.

Nikki asked if I was good.

I could barely think, barely breathe.

Beads of sweat formed on my temples.

I swallowed hard, forced a smile, forced the words out.

Yeah.

yeah, I'm great.

Then I turned to face them.

Normal.

They looked normal.

Everything was normal.

But my stomach twisted into knots because I knew what I saw.

For the first time since I got home, I realized I had nowhere to run.

You sure you're good?

I can't even remember who asked me that.

Yeah, I'm good, man.

My head's just pounding.

I think I should go home.

That part was true.

It was pounding.

Nikki frowned.

You need a ride?

Internally, no.

Externally.

Nah, bro.

What?

You like driving dudes around in your car or something?

You and the teenage boys?

I got this.

I just offered you a ride.

Wait, you want me to suck your cock on the way home?

That's just a pretty formal thing.

Hey,

you want to eat my asshole out and

do all kinds of weird stuff with me?

You want me to jack you off in the driver's seat?

Okay.

I see that I'll never ask this ever again in my life.

It's funny because anytime I offer to give you a ride somewhere, that's typically what you do.

Yeah, I jump for joy and

I do yes, yes.

I jump over that.

Yes.

You're giving them too much to work with.

Yeah.

I take three or four butterscotch candies, I roll them around my mouth, and I get my saliva nice and thick.

And I do, and I do.

I say, I say, I say.

I say.

I say, I guess

if you want to.

That's why I say like that.

Oh, gosh.

What?

Oh.

Okay, so I guess we can't be bros.

It's fine.

I guess we can't do what fellas do.

I guess boys can't be boys.

Oh, gosh.

Okay.

The other two laughed.

The tension cracked just a little.

We all started getting ready to part ways, but I dragged it out.

I will say that interaction, though, like trying to get out of something with a friend and then say that is one of the most realistic things we've ever read on the show.

That's 100% like a, what are you like driving dudes?

What are you?

That's pretty.

Why is that realistic?

We all started getting ready to part ways, but I dragged it out.

Paced around their cars, made jokes, tossed a football over the hoods, anything to stall.

Kissed each other.

Kept stealing glances at the mirrors and windows, waiting for another glimpse of what was under their veils.

Nothing.

First few times, I swear I saw their eyes dart away from mine in the reflections, like they knew what I was doing.

Then it was like they just stopped looking towards me altogether.

No matter how I angled myself, how fast I glanced, I never caught them like I had on the field.

And yet, looking back, I can't shake the feeling like they knew exactly where I was looking.

Like they had just found ways to stare at me from difficult angles without me ever catching their eyes.

Such a pick-me girl, dude.

Is that what the story's about?

A pick-me?

I think it might be.

All right, guys, so what?

You don't want to fucking kiss my chest now or something?

Were we not bros now?

It's weird.

When they look at me, I feel scared, but when they don't look at me, I get angry.

It's definitely some pick-me energy, dude.

Okay.

I'm just glad they let me go home.

I don't even know what the end goal is, but I feel like I'm being bled out, played with, before I'm eaten.

Eaten.

I managed to steady my breathing on the ride back.

As I pulled up to my house, I veered towards the spare garage, an old, detached structure barely used except for storage.

I figured I'd leave my bike in there for now, just so I wouldn't have to linger outside any longer than necessary.

I wheeled up to the side door, gripped the rusted handle, the lock had long since broken, and with a firm push, the door groaned open.

Dust and stale air hit me first, scent of old cardboard and forgotten chunk.

The space was dim, faintly faintly illuminated by street lights filtering through the grimy windows.

I rolled my bike inside, careful not to trip over scattered tools and warped furniture, when I froze.

In the center of the garage, right where it shouldn't be, was my car.

Perfectly intact.

Okay, that's good.

That's cool.

Perfectly intact.

Not totaled, not even scratched.

My breath caught in my throat.

I took a slow step forward, fingers brushing the hood.

Cold, real,

tangible.

The last I'd heard of this car, I was being told it had been wrecked, scrapped.

My parents handed me 250 bucks and said that's all it was worth.

So why was it here?

I circled to the driver's side and peered inside.

The keys weren't in the ignition, but they dangled from the dash.

Something was off.

The seat, normally adjusted to fit me, was pushed all the way back, like someone much taller had been sitting there.

A low tremor crawled up my spine.

The car, despite being untouched, was covered in dust.

How long was I in the hospital?

Doesn't matter.

It was getting dark.

I did a quick fluid check, ran my hands over the tires, making sure it'd be ready if I needed it, and jogged back to the house.

The second I stepped through the front door, it hit me again.

Oh,

rapid, aggressive shuffling.

Door slam.

Then in a voice too casual, too normal to be real.

Honey, you missed dinner.

Want me to heat something up for you?

No.

It's okay, mom.

I'll handle it.

The living room TV was blue-screened, casting a sickly glow over the open floor plan.

I didn't dare mess with my parents' setup.

At this point, they had to know I was onto them.

I would do nothing to disturb the peace.

I grabbed some snacks from the fridge, went straight to my room, locked the door, dug out my old iPod Gen 6 from middle school, buried in a shoebox, and set it to charge.

For a while, I just sat there, listening.

It was too quiet.

I FaceTimed the iPod from my phone, hesitating, debating whether I should even leave my room.

The upstairs layout was simple.

Four rooms.

Mine was first, on the left, at the top of the stairs.

My parents was last on the right.

At the very end, a closet where we kept detergent and towels.

My bathroom was the last door on the left.

The plan was simple.

A strategic iPod drop-off during my next bathroom run.

I executed flawlessly, waiting for the next round of patrolling before slipping out.

I cracked the closet door just enough to give my iPod a view down the hall.

Plugged the charger in beneath the bottom shelf and left it there.

I hit an eye.

First of all,

not to put the bump in the road, can you FaceTime an iPod?

I thought you could with the eye touches, but maybe I'm not sure.

Unless he's just talking about like iPhone.

Maybe.

I'll go with it.

I just remember the eye touch.

They had like the camera and stuff on it, remember?

That one problem.

I guess I didn't think FaceTime was a thing back then, but whatever.

A way to see what my parents really looked like when they thought no one was watching.

Almost regret this decision.

It seemed fine when I got back into my room and locked the door.

Quietly angled my dresser in front of it, wedging my desk chair as tightly as I could under the handle.

Too much movement.

Too much movement from him?

No, from the parents.

Oh, it's like he's a spider.

Or sorry, it's like he's a bug in a spider's web.

Yeah, no, he's fucked.

He's caught right now.

Dude, when he opened that door and it says a shuffling, aggressive

like movement and then a door slamming, like everything was out.

And then the second he opened that door at all, like cockroaches when you turn on the light, all scurrying back in place.

I heard my parents' door fly open, slamming into the inside wall of their bedroom.

By the time I grabbed my phone, she was already there, standing at the end of the hall, facing my door.

Swaying.

She was past the weird shifting face that Nikki had.

Whatever this is, there's stages.

Her jaw wasn't just distended.

It was stretched beyond its limit.

The skin pulled so tight it dangled with every sway of her body.

Even from here, I could see the bags under her eyes.

Not just dark circles, but loose, sagging folds that drooped to her upper lip, exposing way too much dry pink eyelid.

Her hair, Thin and patchy, clung to her scalp with a greasy sheen from the glow of the living room TV and the dim light spilling from the master bedroom.

Her arms didn't hang.

Her elbows were bent at stiff, unnatural 90-degree angles.

Shoulders hunched forward, wrists limp, long, bony fingers dangling.

The only way I knew it was my mom was a pajama top, clung to her sharp skeletal frame, stretched over the ridges of her spine, hanging loose around her frail shoulders.

She leaned in, pressed against the door.

Her head tilted,

slow, deliberate, like she could see through the wood, tracking exactly where I was.

And then

a whisper: Honey,

are you awake?

Her mouth didn't move, lips stretched thin, jaw unhinged and frozen in that grotesque, slack-jawed state.

But the words came anyway, perfectly clear, perfectly human.

I know you're up, honey.

I just heard you moving.

Uh, yeah, I just moved some furniture around.

I didn't like where my TV was.

A pause.

Then the whisper again.

Perfectly clear, perfectly human.

Can I see?

My throat tightened.

Tomorrow.

I'm naked right now, and I don't know.

I don't want to get dressed.

Please, please please work

I was frozen face glued to my phone screen not daring to look away from the granny FaceTime feed my breath barely made a sound and finally

okay

tomorrow then as she spoke something shifted in the farthest darkest corner past the stairs first I thought it was just a shadow but then an arm

thin brittle dangling down from the ceiling like a puppet on cut strings.

Another arm followed.

Then a body, slow and deliberate, lowering itself down the wall.

My stomach turned to ice.

Dad.

Did he ever even leave the house?

Was he already this far along when he picked me up from the hospital with mom?

None of it mattered.

He moved with absolute silence, clambering up the stairs as mom whispered one last time.

Good night, son.

I love you.

Then, dad shuffled past her.

Same stiff, unnatural cadence mom had been moving with for weeks.

If I weren't staring straight at him, I could have sworn it was still her.

He went to the master bedroom, closed the door.

Then, without making a single noise, he came back.

Just completely silently, like through the house.

Ugh.

A trick I would have surely fell for if I hadn't been watching them this whole time.

Ugh, ugh.

It's like, okay, we're going to go reset.

We're going to shut the door and then we're going to be completely silent and then wait to pound.

Well, yeah,

it makes all the noises I've been making more deliberate and less like

before.

It almost felt like animals going in and out, you know what I mean?

Recklessly, but now it feels all intentional, which is just fucking horrifying.

Trying to mimic what parents sound like, closing doors, opening doors, and stuff like that.

But now it's like they can be completely silent when they're ready.

He ended right behind where she was standing.

And that brings me to now.

For the past two hours, they've been outside my door.

Every move I make, they track it through the wood, through the silence.

It's 3.02 a.m.

If I can just make it to daylight without passing out, I think I can open the bay window and jump.

After that, straight to the spare garage, grab a car, get out of town.

I don't know how far this shit has spread, but I can't stay here.

Oh God.

They're getting on the ground, lowering themselves, peeking under the door.

I might have to go right now.

Okay, okay.

Damn it.

I'll update when I'm safe.

That's the end.

You know what I like about that ending, too?

Solid.

I like that.

I like that ending because there's no part two.

I like that this is one of those things where this is the perfect story to not have a sequel, by the way.

This is a thing that is so simple.

Really, the only thing that happens is a guy is like walking around, he goes and visits his friend once, comes back to the house, and the parents are still being weird.

It just goes to show that, like,

not a lot of things happen in a story, but the way that it's paced out and the way that you basically are just given, like, it's such a simple idea, but it uses the short format in a great way.

Where I feel like I, there's a lot of things I like about this.

One, still don't really know if this guy, if this kid is like,

if this is all just a concussion nightmare thing, is he even awake?

You know what I mean?

Like, I mean, I don't, I don't know if he's like in a fucking coma or something like that.

Like, the, the wreck could have been real, and this is all just playing out in his head or something.

Could be in his head, could be some kind of, um,

like, he's fallen prey to some, something that's, he's in a coma, and this is all in a coma, or

or maybe some, I don't know, some alternate world, some weird stuff.

There's any kind of possibility he could have fallen into.

That's what I was going to say: is I know it's been a while since I said it, but very Lovecraftian, where it could be that his head struck and his mind open is able to see things maybe as they really are, or like an alternate dimension of things around him.

So I'm like also wondering, are his parents just normal, but he's seeing like the fucked up version of this like alternate reality around him?

That kind of thing.

I really love the car not being destroyed either.

That's like a fun detail that also, who gives a fuck?

I don't need to, I don't need to know what happened with that.

That's just a great, that's just a great tool again for deceit.

Of like, what?

Why the fuck is this here?

You know, I mean, like, we don't, I don't need to know more about it, but I do like how he's like, well, you know, I'm going to see if I can regroup and figure out what's up.

And then all of a sudden, it's like, oh, wait, no, they're peering at me from under the door.

I might just have to leave now.

There's just a sense of urgency to where I like that the

reader can just kind of run with it at the end.

Did he get out?

Was this real?

These kinds of questions are fun.

I like the conversation you can have with people

with an ending like this, you know, because it feels like everything that the story needed to tell you, it has told you.

Like resolving this monster story isn't going to be, I don't think, necessarily satisfying.

I think it like props up a great idea for a scary idea and it gives you just enough to be like, ooh, that was fun.

I wonder if it's this or that.

And it makes so much more fun than if someone tries to give you the ending in a way where I feel like it's going to disappoint you, maybe.

So I don't know.

I really think it leaves just enough unanswered to make you ask some really cool and creepy questions.

I think it tells you just enough and it keeps just enough in the shadows.

So this is great.

I was also, so I've been reading through his other post.

Apparently, this got removed

because nothing tangible happened to the character according to the no sleep mods.

Apparently, he got a temporary, he got a 30-day ban because this and another of his stories broke that same rule, according to him, that nothing tangible happened to the character.

I like how for no sleep, it's like a tangible thing that has to happen to a character is like a child has to either be like assaulted or like somebody

like a child needs to be assaulted, or somebody has to like clearly die.

When it's like, I guess him being through this concussion and and then being tormented by his fucking like his entire town his friends and family yeah i mean i nothing really happens to him nothing really well he did write something funny and our subreddit he said um

he says he has a 30-day ban and he says uh

because i didn't have something tangible like my character's penis slopping off from radioactive acid treatment yeah we didn't they didn't have a indestructible pedophile come in and uh have sex with the kids and basically have his way with the mom too in the basement.

See, now that would have been the Arsach, no sleep people are like, oh, rubber head, all the sweat off their head.

Yes!

Okay, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, they have their fucking lunch bell.

Woo!

Yeah, sorry, we're gonna have to ban this one because of the lack of pedophilia.

Yeah, nothing happened.

Okay, so

if anything, this is the creative note I'm going to give you.

um make the mom a pedophile and make her indestructible and try to have the and try to have the main character burn her but then she just has his way with him in the basement thank you

look for me for what it's worth for what it's worth i like the indestructible pedophile story i had fun reading but it's insane i also agree not everything has to be that yes no no no i i just think it's such a that that rule and the reason for that i guess that ban is so absurd to think that like this kind of torment that the guy's going through is not enough.

When, to me, I'm like, this is insane.

Also, too, it reads like in the parameters of their format, it reads like a post.

Like, it, because also, it's like, it makes no fucking sense for a guy to be like, yeah, I'm stabbed.

How many times have we read something on No Sleep where it's like, yeah, I've been shot eight times?

It's like, can you imagine writing this to Reddit and you're getting shot?

Or like, you're, you have eight bullets.

Well, I'm bleeding out pretty bad, y'all.

The indestructible vampire pedophile is coming after me, and I feel pretty upset about it.

It's like this feels more like a post.

Yeah, there's so many that are completely ruined because it has to be

like it's like people can write interesting stories.

It's like, okay, now my character has to find a laptop and then upload.

Do you remember what was the one story?

The one about finding a boat in the middle of the ocean?

I forget what it was.

My crew found an abandoned yacht or whatever.

Yeah, yeah.

Do you know what it's like?

Yeah, a cruise ship.

Every single entry opened and closed with, I got on my laptop and went to Reddit.

I'm now typing this.

I'm really tired.

How dumb that was?

I'm really tired.

I'm really tired too, or else they get banned.

Yeah, they're just like, you better, you either do that, or one of the ghosts is a pedophile.

Pick your lane.

Okay,

all right, Mr.

No Sleep.

All right, Mr.

No Sleep, fine.

So the ghost is a pedophile.

Oh, okay, good.

You're safe now.

Yeah, I don't know.

It's a shame because No Sleep is like probably the biggest

fictional writing board on Reddit.

18 million.

18 million followers in that deal.

And to get seen and to have like, you know, notoriety as someone who's trying to get into the horror writing space, that's kind of the place you have to go.

You know?

So

I'm not saying it's complete.

I'm not saying that it's not still a viable place to do that.

I just think that

it is the most viable place that is with

the roles.

Also, I'm wondering, too, if it's very much like if another mod would have seen it, if they were like, oh, this story's fine.

If there's just like one power-tripping mod who's like, yeah, not really a lot happened.

You know what I mean?

Like, I wonder how subjective that

system is for allowing stories on.

You know what I mean?

Yeah.

So, yeah, I'm not sure.

All I know is this is a great story.

I really like the length of it.

It was nice and like, like, nice and quick, and I think it adds to this little collection.

I'm just curious to see how the next story goes.

I will say this about the author

that we just read: Dan Boll or Dean Boll.

Four months ago, he made a post in our slash creepcast absolutely swinging for us on the Legati story.

He posted, he was like, that was good.

And it should be appreciated.

And then just

like reply after reply after reply.

Just like one man on an island just swinging an axe.

Well, yeah, he probably has enough experience on fucking Reddit with all the people and having to fight those mods, you know?

I mean, it is what it is.

No, I mean, but in all honesty, this was a lot of fun.

You know, the only thing that I guess, like, if I had any, it's not even really even a complaint.

It's just the whole unhinged jaw thing, I feel like, is a bit.

Okay, so if I'm giving critiques to a story that I really like, and I think it's cool, I feel like the unhinged jaw thing was a little.

It's just

played a lot.

Yeah.

to me.

The feet under the door was great and the quiet movement was great.

You didn't eat the jaw.

Maybe once, but not as like a recurring thing.

Although it does kind of make it seem like an entity that's going to eat you, like swallow.

Yeah, but I don't think you need that.

It's kind of creepy.

I don't think you need it.

I don't think you need that.

I think for something like this, to me, I think it's like you need to make the like, I mean, I say you need.

This is my opinion.

I think it's effective if you don't have any of that stuff, but you keep challenging the norms of reality.

Like if he would have came home and his mom's shirt was on backwards or whatever.

The mom looks totally normal, whatever.

And it's a thing where now at the end, you can make that even crazier where it's like, my mom was topless.

She was just in her bra.

Like, how, how weird is that?

You know what I mean?

Like,

that kind of stuff.

And I think that you can get away from like the unhinged jaw, which is just like, I mean,

I love,

you know,

dislocated jaws and rows of teeth and all that kind of stuff.

But I think for a story like this where it's, I mean, it's purely like you're questioning if the person's insane or if you're questioning reality.

I think keeping it as close to reality and really playing with that is going to have people have so many visceral different reactions to where I think that's where that conversation becomes more fun too.

No, no, no.

I think he's just to say, no, it's this or that.

You know, just, I think like riding that line.

is really fun.

And I think if they're dressed normally, it's, or if they're totally normal, it's just so much creepier.

Like I think about my mom doing that, and then like feeling threatened by this thing that I, that is completely normal, but it's just slightly off is this uncanny valley that I think is really effective and fun.

You know,

yeah,

a very talented rider, and this is a banger.

I hate that got taken off, but please give all the viewers ours.

We appreciate it.

Also, the uh, the dad, wish I had a little more with the dad.

I think that we could have had the dad, the dad was cool.

I liked the unblinking kind of looking forward thing to the car.

I like how the coolest parts how he moves silently at the end.

That's terrifying.

To me, the scariest parts of the story were the silent movement and in the car at the beginning, how the mom couldn't decide what facial expression she wanted to show.

Yeah.

Those freaked me out.

I'm trying to think if I had any other critiques of it.

I just switched it to the Xbox.

We have maybe once too many.

I thought that he was getting ready to get into some of the gamer language or something like that.

I was like, oh, watch out, Xbox.

No,

just that we got a nice little conversation with him and the mom.

I just like, I, just to have a little bit more, just because we have, we put some emphasis on the dad as well, because we put emphasis on the friends.

He has a nice interaction with them.

Wish there was just maybe one little interaction with the dad a bit of him either just trying to talk to him or if the dad just joined the mom at the end and was talking to him as well.

Why don't you let us in?

You know, like, just, just, just to see.

It doesn't, not necessary, but I mean, it was really, it was really great where it went.

I really enjoyed it.

And, Dean, if that is your real name, please keep making these.

This was dope.

Also, really, and this is just me, once again, I'm not trying to be rude or anything.

Really try to hone in the idea of like really making this character die or being attacked by a super pedophile if you want to actually make it.

Yeah, so my criticism is maybe he could get molested, perhaps, or also

just hear me out.

Yeah.

He or someone could explode, but he has to get injured in the explosion so that way he's bleeding but as he's exploding he's typing out the story and then in the final sentences he says wow i sure hope i don't explode but then there's a dash at the end it's hard for me flying i'm actually getting fucking pissed as he hit post i'm actually getting

i'm getting fucking pissed because it's hard for me to know if a character has gone through something unless the character is on like let's say a ghost ship and then there's like fucking vampires attacking him and he gets hurt and if the character doesn't say that he's hurt on the thing how am i supposed to know right you know so it's just one of those things you know i just i'm getting

maybe maybe you could have like some clever foreshadowing like maybe in the beginning he could be like hey i'm writing this story and uh my biggest fear is exploding so then at the end of the story when he does explode it's like oh that's what he was afraid of and i i guess it's a message about the things you're afraid of or what tend to find you so maybe you could do that and it would actually be good so yeah you know maybe you could try that out yeah listen i mean not everybody can have a home run i mean this was definitely a bit of a strikeout.

But next time there's a home run.

Maybe stop riding.

Maybe stop riding if you're not willing to actually.

No, I actually.

Just quit riding.

Just quit riding.

Maybe if you're not ready to incorporate super pedophiles or exploding super pedophiles, I'm going to have to take a look at the test.

You have to pedophiles at some point.

You don't have what it takes to work in this industry.

Okay.

That's just how it is.

So either get some pedos in there or you better start having people try to kill themselves, try to kill each other by getting them to kill themselves.

Figure it out.

Figure it out.

Choose your lane.

Maybe have pedophiles get people to kill themselves through explosions.

And then at the end, our character gets molested and then explodes.

Or you have

a sheriff in the town and he's like a badass, but also still a pedophile.

And he has a warehouse outside of town.

And that's how the character would have done it.

Maybe he's like, oh, yeah,

people are looking at me.

But then vice versa, he goes through the woods and finds a pedophilia warehouse.

And that's kind of the idea.

And that's how you,

That's how you go.

But then, of course, he's a pedophile as well.

So he's like, oh, this is great.

So he's happy with it.

But then it turns out that

all the children that have been abducted are vampires.

So it's like, oh, well, I can't have these because that's a threat to kill them now.

Now it's a threat.

Now it's scary because it's vampires.

And you could have there be a lot of blood and people dying.

And then that would make it scary.

Thank you for these rules, master.

Thank you for these rules.

Fuck's sakes.

On to the next story where we're reading a story called i've been flying for almost 30 hours and the flight attendants won't stop crying which i just got to say even reading that title gives me a panic attack i don't mind i i i don't i don't hate flying but planes i think no matter what even if people i don't know i don't mind flying they're a little scary right you're just kind of in a death tube up in the sky I think if I think about it too long,

because I fly all the time, but if I'm sitting there for a while and I'm like, huh, right beneath my my feet's nothing.

If this was to crash right now, I'd have a really long time to think about it.

Then it messes with me a little bit.

Yeah.

Or like sometimes if we get a lot of turbulence, especially on takeoff, I get a little

the butterflies for sure.

Yeah.

Yeah.

I've had some weird flying experiences where it's like, okay, well, this is it.

All right.

Well, this is what dying feels like.

But yeah, I feel like regardless of how much you do it, it's a little creepy for anyone.

But today's story, actually, we have a little treat it's made by a writer called warchester street which scrolling through their reddit i see that they are a fan of creepcast or at least they've commented in r slash creepcast a couple times um and that they were very kind to show someone in the subreddit give them some advice about posting on no sleep and story writing so they seem like a cool person uh they've written a bunch of stories for r slash no sleep uh some of them highly rated so we'll have them linked in the description be sure to so show them some love if you enjoyed and we certainly appreciate them being cool riding stuff and then engaging with the community it means a lot but just because you're nice on in our subreddit doesn't mean that we're going easy on you

but i will say also with the title the one thing they say about flying is they say if the if the uh if the people working in the plane aren't freaking out you have nothing to worry about so me seeing a flight intendant crying for 30 hours which first off 30 hours is we we're going through hell apparently But if I saw a flood tenant crying, I don't even know what I

have no idea what I would even be able to do.

It would be rough.

I was on a plane one time, and we were flying.

We had a connection in Atlanta, and as we're getting close to Atlanta, there was a storm that was apparently so bad they evacuated the tower in Atlanta.

So we're on our flight, and they're like, hey, guys, not landing at Atlanta.

We have to go to Charlotte because it's the only airport that'll take, or not Charlotte, Charleston, South South Carolina, because it's the only airport that will take us.

And we can't stay up in the air because we don't have that much gas.

So the whole way there, my wife and I were sitting, Kayla and I were sitting on the front row and people kept coming up to the flight attendants and being like,

I've got a flight out of Atlanta and we're going to end up getting there after the flight leaves.

And the flight attendants kept having to explain to these people what an airport is.

And they would be like, ma'am,

no one is leaving or going.

The flight flight will not leave on you.

It can't leave.

They're like, no, but it takes off in an hour.

And you're like, ma'am, I have no

way to talk to you.

I can't deal with this.

We're going to die in this.

I hope you realize we're going to die by the time we get to South Carolina.

Yeah, but my flight.

There was one point where like it was this one woman too who kept coming back and asking stupid questions.

And at one point, she comes up there and she was like, I don't see why we're going to Charleston.

That's not Atlanta.

And the guy's like, okay,

Atlanta is gone.

We can't go there.

And we can't be in the sky because we have to go to the ground.

So we're going to go to the ground over here and then we'll come back over there.

And then she walks back.

She like loudly stomps back to her seat and she tells her husband, he said we have to drive to Orlando.

And the flight attendant looks at me and Kaylin goes, Did I say that?

Is that what I said?

Did I say that?

My God, man.

Yeah.

I would love if they're like,

Atlanta's, that option's gone.

What happened to it?

Where did it go?

Why did they get rid of it?

Who did it?

Who hurt them?

Well, Worcester Street, it is time.

Isaiah, are you ready?

It is time.

I'm ready to get into it.

Let us begin.

As always, thank you to everyone who listens on audio platforms.

Continue to show support there.

It means a lot.

And of course, our Patreon supporters love you guys the most.

It's not that you are more important than everyone else who listens, but you are to me.

Your life matters more.

So thank you for that.

We have a little Q ⁇ A thing today of asking some patrons about some of the new episode recordings.

So curious to see how that goes.

So we'll see.

Because again, they matter to us more than the others.

So.

My sweet, sweet little angels.

With that, let us begin.

I've been flying for almost 30 hours.

The flight attendants won't stop crying.

30 hours ago, I hopped on a late-night flight from New York heading to Los Angeles.

After boarding, I saw that I had an entire row to myself.

Takeoff passed without incident, and soon I was stretched out for a nap across the row.

I slept for a few hours.

I don't know how long, but

I slept for a few hours.

I don't know how long, but it was a few hours.

But I woke up to some severe turbulence.

It's possible that the lights in the cabin went out for a moment, but I was so disoriented that it's hard to say.

I checked my phone to see that it was 4.03 a.m., which I figured gave me about an hour until we landed.

When I looked out my window, I was shocked to see nothing but wide open ocean.

My jaw dropped.

There's obviously no ocean between New York and Los Angeles.

I hit the button to call the flight attendant and spent the next few minutes racking my brain for a lake that could have been possibly big enough to explain what I was seeing.

I jumped when the attendant flipped off the light.

She was grinning from ear to ear, tears pouring down her cheeks.

How can I help you, sir?

I froze for a moment at her reaction before deciding to just ask my question.

Where are we?

Why does it look like we're flying over in an ocean?

She wiped her cheeks to clear the tears, still grinning wildly.

Sir, we'll be landing in about an hour.

Okay, thank you.

After she left, I checked the clock on my phone again.

4.03 a.m.

blinked back at me.

It hadn't changed.

Okay, so Hunter,

right now, roleplay, what do you do in this scenario?

You're the guy in the seat.

So,

can I start at the crying woman

yeah sure so she's crying and then she comes up and says we'll be landing in about an hour who did this to you

what's wrong who did this who did this i would get i'd make a big saying

oh my god and i would say oh my god are you okay is it the pilot and say is it is it the pilot so you're immediate you're immediately white knighting off the get-go Anytime I can white knight Isaiah, I absolutely do it.

I say, oh my God, who did this?

Okay, so then she responds and goes, what are you talking about, sir?

I'm fine.

And I say, don't fucking play, hey, hey, don't play coy with me.

All right?

You're sitting here crying like a baby brook.

In my head, you're grabbing her face like you grabbed her cheeks.

No, no, no.

I don't do that.

But I say, I say, hey, hey!

Sorry, I don't mean to raise my voice, but I say, you are obviously a woman in distress, and I need to know how I can help.

Let me help you.

And I say, and I say it again, I'm like, don't make me fucking asking again.

Isn't the fucking pilot?

Because it's the pilot.

You let me know, and I will go in there and I will wreak

hell, is what I would say.

I'm gonna, you're like, you know, I'm gonna take over this plane.

This is a hijacking now.

I actually, I've done flight simulators since I was 13 years old.

I could land this bird so easily.

Okay?

Tasha?

Yeah.

Tasha, you have a beautiful name.

It's a beautiful name.

Wasn't the pilot.

Wasn't the pilot?

Is what I keep saying like that.

And there'd be a guy next to me looking at me.

He's like, can I get a water?

And I'm like, no,

stop it.

I'm like, no, you don't have to, you don't have to take horse from this.

But what are the animals?

What if it's a woman asking for a water?

What would you say?

Honestly, sweetheart, I appreciate you trying to stay hydrated and stay mentally focused for this flight, but I need you to just give me and Tasha five minutes.

Could you do that for me?

Because if there's one thing I know about you, it's that you respect women.

Oh, God, more than anything.

Up and down, all over.

And I would hand her my pillow because, you know, they gave you the little in-fly feel.

Of course.

I'd be like, I'd say, please, and honestly, and Tasha, this isn't against you because honestly, I know American Airlines, you didn't make the plane.

I give the woman next to me, her name, Sabrina.

Is it Sabrina?

That's a beautiful name, first off, Sabrina.

I just want to say that's a beautiful name.

Right.

They take this pillow.

I want you to put it on your neck because you're not going to get any lumbar support.

All right.

I want you to have a beautiful, restful sleep because you're a beautiful little princess all right and i say tasha you tell me you you tell me right now if that fucking dog-faced man the cockpit did this did you did he do this to you

and that's how it handled the situation right you know it's funny because a lot of you guys probably think he's joking or playing it up i've never been on a flight with hunter where he's acted normally There's always some bit.

There's always something.

Do you want to tell him about what you did on that flight to Tampa?

What did I do on the flight to Tampa?

Yeah, that one from Kansas City to Tampa.

Do you remember that?

I don't.

I barely remember what happened yesterday.

I don't remember.

This is when we were going to shoot the ghost hunting video we made with Charlie or Voice Critical.

I remember going to Tampa, but what did I do on the flight?

While we were going there,

he had bought these like $20 crappy Amazon webcams to look like the old Zach Back and ghost adventure adventure stuff.

So he decided to test them out on the plane by acting like he was in an abandoned building.

So he's sitting, he's sitting in the chair and he's got the camera like this close to his face.

And he's like, guys, I don't.

Did you hear that?

Guys, guys.

And he's like panicking and like sweating.

And in the background, you can just see rows of people.

Someone shifts in their sleeve.

He's like, did you hear that?

Did you guys hear that?

And Nick's filming him too and has an equally close camera up in his face.

Tell them what happened in the bathroom.

Yeah, I was going to say, the only thing I remember now that you say that, because I totally forgot we bought those cameras.

The only thing I remember in the bathroom is that I was recording my stuff in there and I was pretending that I was like doing a ghost hunt thing.

And then I stood up and then I just like, I pretty much just filmed my shit in this like airplane toilet.

And I just kept looking in the mirror.

It's a whole, it doesn't matter.

You know what?

I was being a little silly.

He filled the toilet.

And he was like, and the way he had the crappy IR filter on, so everything was black and white.

And he's spinning around in the bathroom like, guys, I don't know.

Guys, I think there's a ghost in here.

Spirits, are you with us?

And as he's spinning, you just pass the toilet that's full up.

Just keeps.

There were four different bathrooms on that trip.

He did that.

I don't know how he was ready to go at every one we came across.

I did forget.

We did have a moment.

There was a shit toilet in the ghost thing.

I totally forgot about that.

Yeah.

So

I must have been backed up for a while.

I was holding in some demons.

You, every one of them, I was like,

this has to be the last one, surely.

I'm sure there was always another.

I just remember because we were.

I felt bad.

I feel bad because I opened the door and there's nothing.

It's like kind of like whenever you're watching your dog take a shit and he looks at you and you can just tell he's ashamed or whatever.

So I get out of the bathroom and

just by like an unforeseeable wind gusts this like horrid, wretched smell out of the bathroom.

And the woman.

The woman in the front row, whatever right by the bathroom, just did, good God.

i had to walk by like sorry sorry about that yeah yeah you

still has the camera he's like are you with us spirit speak to us say something

sorry ma'am

sorry it's a bad i had some bachipotti last night

He kept putting the camera in the floor to be like, I think I'm sensing something.

And as the camera spins, you just see rows of feet.

And he's like, is that a person?

Does that look like a person back there?

It's just a woman in shoes.

so anyway my point is him deciding to like white knight over a stewardess asking if the pilot beat her you know the pilot she met like five minutes ago when the flight began um

that would be on par that would be a bit he wouldn't vent so

yeah he's in the plane

five minutes crying I had to have been waiting with my call light on for at least five minutes.

How is it possible that it hadn't changed at all?

I opened up my laptop and saw it too displayed 4:03 a.m.

I pulled out my phone, started a stopwatch in the app, spent the next two hours looking back and forth between the clocks, waiting for them to change.

They never did.

I tapped the shoulder of an older woman sitting in the row ahead of me.

She looked back, an annoyed expression across her face.

Yes, do you know how long until we land?

She narrowed her eyes.

That flight attendant said it would be about an hour.

I shook my head in confusion.

That flight attendant, we

I spun to see a male flight attendant grinning down at me, tears pinging off his cheeks onto my shoulder.

Sir, I'm gonna ask you to calm down, or I'll be calling the captain.

I told him that wouldn't be necessary and sat back.

He removed his hand and stepped away.

I feel like he has been pretty amicable.

I don't think he's really caused a fuss, has he?

Hey, how do we land on

the side?

Sir, sir, sir.

I'm going to get the taser.

I'm going to get the bite dog.

It'd be different if she's like, the flight attendant said in an hour from now.

And he's like, an hour now.

Are you fucking crazy?

We're going to die.

That would elicit something, but I feel like him being like, oh, that's weird.

Oh, that's weird.

We talked a couple hours ago.

I don't really think.

And he's like, is there a problem?

You got a problem here?

Is this a problem?

You wouldn't wouldn't want this to be a problem would you sir you won't want this to be a problem like we'll throw you out we've done it before sir we can do it again sir flight attendant continue to stop by every few hours offering meals every few hours god damn dude stopwatch continues to kick just been sitting there like all right another

two hours pass by hey any hour now at what point do you cause a problem at what point are you like all right you know what i've got a gun after she says after the flight attendant said an hour,

will be landing an hour?

Is like from then or what?

How long until you cause a problem?

Like that guy, like the flight attendant came by and was like, Am I going to have to tell the captain?

Like, at what point are you like, you know what?

Yeah, tell the captain.

When she said an hour from now, I would say 30 minutes after that.

So before an hour has even passed.

Exactly.

Before even the amount of talk.

I've been doing the whole time.

Get me out of this death trap.

That's how I'd be rolling around.

Oh, God.

What is this?

What kind of magic show is this?

Be doing that.

So, Hunter gets on a two-hour flight.

One hour into the two-hour flight, he's making demands.

He's exactly.

Fucking land.

My stopwatch continued to tick up and is now telling me that I've been on this plane for more than 30 hours.

I've explored all of Coach, tried talking to some of the other passengers, but they've all told me that they're expecting to land in an hour or so.

Around three hours ago, I tried getting into first class, made it past the curtain, but was escorted back by two grinning flight attendants.

The grip of my arms were like iron.

Sir, the seaboard light sign is on.

Please remain in your seat with your buckle fastened.

We'll be landing in about an hour.

That would piss me off.

I just about.

I thought, hold on, this is a woman speaking.

Are you not going to be kind and respectful to them?

Listen, you're a perfect angel, but you are releasing some kind of demon from me.

Please don't make me go there, is what I would say.

I say, please do not make me go there.

Don't make me open up the cage, let the tiger out to play.

I'm unfurling my wings,

and darkness will cast over this plane.

Do you hear me?

Not if you hear me.

Hunter gets shot to death by an air marshal.

Freeze!

I just about given up hope when a woman came down the aisle dressed in a business suit.

She didn't look at me or slow down, but she dropped a piece of paper onto my tray and she made her way to the bathrooms at the back of the plane.

I shot a look around before unrolling it.

It said, Are you stuck too?

I pulled out a pen and wrote, Yes, it's been 30 hours.

I folded the scrap of paper up and set it on my tray closest to the aisle.

She left the bathroom and picked it up as she passed.

It's It's been 20 minutes since then.

I don't know why, but I don't think the flight attendants would like it if they knew we were talking.

It doesn't matter.

I have to do something.

I'll update you all with whatever happens next.

End of part one.

All right, so that's end of part one.

I just want to say this.

I think he's dead, right?

It just feels like.

She's probably going to be like a purgatory meme or something like that.

It's funny that she's like, it drops like a note.

I legitimately thought that with how childish it felt that he was going to be like, yeah, I've been in here 30 minutes and he like makes an airplane out of it.

He's like licking the paper and making an airplane throws it perfectly through first class into the bathroom.

I think so far it's been fine.

It hasn't.

It's just been like, I'm stuck on the flight.

I don't know what's happening.

Yeah.

All right.

I think it feels good so far.

I think it is kind of a creepy concept, the idea of being on a plane and it never lands, right?

What's that movie about the girl gets on the plane and they convince her her son never existed?

I don't fucking know that.

I've never heard of that movie.

I swear this is real.

I feel like that's just

you just gaslighting some random passenger that was sitting next to you.

No, it's she gets on the plane and like her son disappears like when he goes to the bathroom and she's like, hey, where's my kid?

They're like, you never boarded the flight with the kid.

And like the whole flight, they try to convince her her son's not real.

I can't remember how it ends.

Can I pitch up?

Sure.

Can I just not to interrupt you because I'm sure the movie's awesome, but I had an idea.

I had a thought.

Is it scarier if you're not over the ocean, you're by the airport, right?

And every time he's been descending for 30 hours and they pull back up, right?

As soon as they're getting ready to land, they're right near the ground.

He pulls back up, and they have to go back around.

It's like a mental torture, right?

So he goes right now.

And then after a while, the guy's like, what the fuck is going on?

Why are we not landing, sir?

It's just an hour.

Okay, just give us an hour.

They're crying, right?

what if what if it's like when he when they land they're like your asshole is going to explode

out from your bottom you're you'll have a you'll your asshole will prolapse and you'll shit out your organs to the point where there's people on the plane who are like i don't give a fuck i want to get off this plane and other people are like sir think of his asshole the man's going to die whatever and now you have a moral becoming like a sacrifice exactly

like i don't care let my asshole become red cabbage and spill out all onto the floor.

My guddy works.

He does that.

Or he's just like, Well, hold on, I hold on.

And then he goes, and like people start revolting.

And like one of the passengers comes up to the pilot and he's just like, You land this fucking plane, or I'll put a bolt in the back of your head.

He's like, How'd you get that gun on this plane?

God damn it.

And he's like, It's 3D printed.

I 3D printed it.

He has the back of his head like that.

Would that be

a good hook?

It would be something, all right.

Or it's just like, as soon as they it we

there's a treaty.

We live in a world where when every time a plane lands, someone on the path, oh, someone, or how about this?

This is even better.

The woman in the woman in the fucking Zoot suit walking around dropping stuff.

She's just like, we can't land.

He's like, what?

Whatever.

And then they keep coming up to him, asking him, are you ready to land in six hours?

Yeah, that's fine.

I don't care.

Another hour passes.

Are you sure you're ready to land in five hours, sir?

Are you sure?

Yeah, that's totally fine.

Zoot suit woman walks by.

Please don't let us land.

He's like, what the fuck is happening?

Four hours, whatever.

By like three hours comes by, by three.

He's just like, can I ask why you keep asking me that?

She's like, oh, well,

you're in the seat where

as soon as we land, you have to eat a baby.

You have to eat this baby on the plane.

And he's like, excuse me?

What?

Excuse me?

Excuse me.

Excuse me?

He's like, that woman in the Zoot suit back there dressed like Sinbad from 1992.

She, we've taken her baby.

We've wrapped her in tinfoil.

And they're like, we're getting ready to put him in an air fryer.

And you have to eat the whole thing before people can get off.

And there's a guy next to me.

She's like, dude, seriously, man, I appreciate you taking this one for the team.

Try to tell me that's not a good one.

I'm not going to eat a baby.

Wait, what the fuck?

Thank you.

They have to fly back around.

Whatever.

Now he's like, we're going to run out of gas.

The airplane, the captain comes by, listen.

I had to eat a baby two years ago and I didn't like it.

You just have to do it once, and no one will ask you to do it it again.

But if you don't do it, we're going to run out of gas and we're going to crash.

We're going to die.

Do you understand me?

So is this like a metaphor for like the healthcare system or something?

It could be.

It could be.

Or it could just be a thing about people,

I guess, mandating that you have to eat a child every time that you land a plane.

That would, you know what?

I would say if society did that, that would be bad.

I'll agree.

You know, I'm glad you said it because I wanted to say it too, but I was afraid, but it is wrong.

Right, right.

Okay, so

I've been reading about the plot of this movie, I remembered, okay?

Okay.

Like, I'm so glad I did.

All right, so it's a movie called Flight Plan starring Jodie Foster.

And I was wrong about being a son.

It's her daughter.

So her husband just died in Berlin, and she's flying back to the United States to bury him with her six-year-old daughter.

And then her daughter disappears, and everyone tries to convince her her daughter's not real.

Okay.

And then I'm reading through the summary and it says, at one point,

she accuses two Arab passengers of stalking her daughter the night before, resulting in a fight and her being handcuffed.

So she gets handcuffed.

She gets convinced somehow in the midst of this that her husband,

everyone told her her husband killed himself by jumping off a building, but she gets convinced it was a murder.

So she goes into the cargo bay and checks his body.

And it says she removes,

or no, sorry, an agent goes down to checks his body to find that his body has been rigged with explosives and a detonator

of course and it's revealed that the the killer and the mortuary conspired to hijack the aircraft for a 50 million dollar ransom and frame this woman as the hijacker so they abducted her six-year-old daughter to convert to uh coerce her into going along with it.

I guess.

I'm going to have to watch Flight Plan almost immediately.

It becomes a terrorist movie.

Jodi Foster becoming a terrorist in this and like somebody gaslighting.

It could also be equally as terrifying as if all that's happened.

Like, if imagine a movie where

a mom and daughter get on the plane, right?

And then all of a sudden, as soon as you sit down, the mom just pretends she doesn't know you.

You know what I mean?

Sitting there and she's like, I don't know who this is.

Mom, stop.

Can I be moved?

This gross little girl is trying to talk to me during the flight.

I am going to

watch it.

I feel like you do that to a daughter anyway.

I feel like you do that to your daughter anyway.

No, my daughter.

My daughter's an angel.

I skipped ahead to the flight plan.

Oh, she is?

I thought you weren't telling the internet about her.

I believe it.

Okay.

So later on.

I'm just skipping ahead in the plot a little bit.

At one point, she agrees to hijack the plane and she's holding the pilot at gunpoint for some reason.

And

there's a lot of killing.

At one point, she detonates the explosives.

On the plane while it's flying?

Yeah, that's what it looks like.

Believing that neither the passengers nor the crew would even notice, Kyle escapes with Julia and the aircraft's non-combustible hold.

As Carson shoots at her, she detonates the explosives, killing him and damaging a landing gear.

What?

And everyone realizes she was telling the truth.

What truth?

That her daughter exists.

This little girl is my daughter.

Okay, it is.

All right, part two.

Part two.

I've been flying for almost 30 hours.

Part two.

A few hours after the businesswoman picked up her piece of paper with my message, she came back down the aisle and sat in the seat beside me.

She bent over, trying to stay low.

So, you're stuck too.

I kept my voice low.

Yeah.

My name's Jack, by the way.

I say nice to meet you, but

she nodded.

I'm Mary.

You're wrong.

Getting your message was by far the best thing about the past day.

I spent the last day and a half thinking I was alone in this.

She paused for a moment, looking up the aisle.

When she spoke again, her voice was a whisper.

So, Jack, you have any theories on what the hell's going on?

I considered lying, but decided the truth was for the best.

I think we might be dead.

Imagine you're in this scenario, and then you ask the one other guy for help, and he's like, I think we're dead.

It's like, okay.

The guy reciprocating the

junior high note passing, I think, is going to be very nonchalant about this.

I think we're dead.

I think we might be dead.

I think we're dead and we're ghost right now.

Ooh, we can be ghost, girlfriend, boyfriend.

And you can be ghost together.

Would you like that, Mary?

Do you like that, Mary?

Girls, boyfriend, girlfriend.

Mary shook her head.

Maybe if it were just me or just you,

if this was some cosmic train to hell, why would there be two of us who realize what's going on?

Trains can't hold more than one passenger.

Train famously, trains have one person in them, none else.

No idea.

I don't know.

Mary pulled out her phone and handed it to me.

It displayed the Wikipedia article for flight MH370.

Oh, that's the Malaysian one that disappeared.

The airline that disappeared in 2014.

Okay, well, yeah.

I read through the article carefully.

There were dozens of theories trying to explain what happened.

They ranged from hypoxia to suicide to aliens.

Mary,

how are you still using a sidekick phone?

Is that what it said?

Oh, can you imagine this?

It's just pulled out her phone.

I like the idea that she's just asking completely unimportant things?

Mary, how are you having an LG chocolate phone from 2007?

How is that possible?

Mary, that's so cool, Mary.

Thank you for showing me this, Mary.

Doesn't tell us much.

Not much other than that this may have happened before.

How about you?

Any theories as to why anyone else can't see what's going on?

We talked it over and realized one thing we had in common was that we were both fast asleep 4.03 a.m.

There's no way we were the only ones asleep at that time, though.

Maybe everyone else was just napping.

I don't know about you, but I was well and truly asleep.

I was sunked out.

Seriously.

I was gone.

I hit the Zaza before the flight, and my ass was my goofy eye was totally busted out down the snooze train.

That's so cool, Mary.

Mary, you're awesome.

You're great, Mary.

She takes out a tech deck.

I imagine she's using she has a tech deck out this entire time while she's talking.

She keeps dropping on the floor.

God damn it.

Flips.

Yeah.

That's pretty.

That's awesome.

I've never seen anyone do that.

That's awesome, Mary.

I've never seen anyone do a jackmelon before.

I saw that male flight attendant.

Is he bothering you?

Is that guy bothering you, Mary?

She's like, what?

And she's grinding on one of those

cookies that you get.

The half-pipe things.

She's on the Biscoff cookie line

yeah she's she's uh she's grinding on the biscoff cookie singing ska songs to herself so here i am doing everything i can

all the time and

mary are you singing superman by goldfinger

you know that song yeah you're you might be the coolest girl i've ever seen

i would hope the story ends with both of them dying in a plane.

Yeah, here I am doing it.

Pretending I'm a Superman.

The cabin lights flicked off, and a dozen red emergency lights in the floor flicked on, casting the cabin in a red glow.

The intercom crackled to life, saying,

Passengers, please return to your seats.

The seatbelt sign is fastened, and we may experience some turbulence.

We'll be landing in about an hour.

Mary froze.

Should I go back?

Maybe they won't notice if you're gone, but maybe they already know and they're just trying to separate us.

Mary nodded.

We should stay together.

That's a better idea.

Intercom crackled again.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce the arrival of the captain.

We'll all be given the opportunity to speak with him.

Please remain in your seats until he calls you.

If you need assistance, don't worry.

A flight title will be happily will happily help you on your way.

That's not that's creepy.

I like that.

The captains arrive.

The idea of someone arriving mid-flight

is pretty good.

Now she passes.

Oh my god.

My god, did you hear that, Mary?

No, sorry.

I was messing with this tech deck.

What did he say?

Nothing, don't worry about it.

They look down the road, and it's just Captain America

like Chris Evans.

whoa,

Mary, get off that mongoose bike with those sick pegs, and we should talk about this.

Yeah, he's like, really stoked about it.

He's like, I love Avengers.

That's awesome.

She's like, the only captain I know is Sean White.

She's like a big BMX person or something.

You're like, what?

She's like, yeah, I think Sean White and Travis Pristana.

She's just, she's wearing all like the old mirch like all the old bread

pants

Sounds of passengers getting to their feet echoed from further up in the plane sat in silence trying to get a look through the curtain separating us from first class

the captain no idea but it didn't sound like they were talking about a pilot to me did they nope

that's when a pungent sulfur smell hit us so okay so it's the devil the devils walking around in first class that's when a pungent sulfur smell hit us so strong that I had to resist the urge to gag.

It reminded me of the worst rotting eggs I'd ever smelt in my life.

But the old woman sitting ahead of us didn't react.

She just kept watching a movie on the back of her seat.

Don't cough.

We fought it for a few long seconds before giving in, coughing hard and violently.

A second later, the curtain opened.

Mary and I froze, staring down the now red fuselage.

Four flight attendants passed through the curtain and made their way down the rows towards us.

Grins stretched wide across their faces.

They were still crying.

This time the tears streaking their face were darker.

It's hard to say with the lighting, but it looked like blood.

My eyes weren't drawn to them, though.

I looked over their shoulders at the figure standing near the front of the plane.

It was a black silhouette standing beside the cockpit door.

It was at least eight feet tall, pointing towards us with a single finger.

It had called us.

The bathrooms!

We ran towards the back of the plane, the flight attendants closing in behind us.

Blood dripped from their grinning cheeks onto the carpet of the plane.

The captain is here, he said in a perfect customer service voice.

The scrim widened as he moved towards us.

We made it to the bathrooms, jumping into opposite sides.

I slammed the door shut and locked it, pressing my feet against the folding center part of the door to keep it closed.

They began banging on the door and pulling at the handle while I fought to keep it closed.

I'm sorry, but you'll both need to speak with the captain, one of the flight attendants said.

Chuck!

Chuck!

A distinct snapping sound like breaking metal came from her bathroom.

She continued to scream as the sounds of struggle migrated up towards the front of the plane, towards the black figure I'd seen.

I'd like to say I jumped out and fought them, that I distracted them or I did something heroic.

I didn't.

She was carried away and a few short seconds later her screaming was cut off.

That was a few hours ago, and I'm still locked inside the bathroom.

I keep trying not to think of what they've done with her.

The thing at the front of the plane didn't seem human.

I hope it didn't.

What are you laughing about?

I heard you kidding me.

This is just kind of funny.

The thing The thing in the front of the plane didn't seem human.

The eight-foot-tall black figure wasn't human.

Okay.

That was my first time.

The thing that boarded the flight

mid-30 30-hour flight in air.

Yeah, that's weird.

Okay.

I hope it didn't kill her.

Not after she was shouting for my help like that.

I didn't take that.

Oh, it's so funny.

Go ahead.

I just like, ah, geez.

I hope she's not dead.

Her screaming like that and me standing in this bathroom, shitting my pants.

I mean, real bummer.

I feel real bummed about that.

Yeah, it is funny.

He's like, man, if she's dead, I'm going to be sad.

That'll be bad for me if she died like that.

I haven't heard any movement outside in a few hours, but I'm terrified to open the door.

I'm far from the seat outlets, so my phone's almost dead, and I haven't eaten in way too long.

If I go out there, will flight attendants remember?

What if that thing is still waiting for people?

I don't have much time to make a decision, but I'll update you all here with what happens next.

End of part two.

I think this story so far needs more meat on its bones.

Things are happening too quickly.

Like the whole idea of having a line that says

of a character saying, don't cough.

And then the next line is, we tried to hold it in, but we coughed.

Seems a bit.

Yeah, yeah.

It's like you can just go to the other part.

I also wanted more time with having the flight attendants.

like we've had them be you know creepy and they're smiling and crying and stuff I like that you know I like the hook of the flight attendants won't stop crying and stuff but yeah I want I want more we're on the last part part three

yeah

yeah I want I wanted to have a bit more

going on I feel like stuff happens really quickly like this girl's here then she dies

But it's also just, you know, it's a really short story.

You know, maybe they just want to write a really short story, get like the main horror element across rather than a lot of the fluff to it more kind of like a goosebumps thing you know like a super short little here's what happened yeah so i can't fault that i think it's a good premise i think you could do more with it

part three after another dozen hours or so dozen hours

he's been on he's been so i wanted to just say he's been he's been on this plane for like 50 hours i just want to say that yes yeah several days at this point at what point are you like you know what take me just fucking take yeah exactly i would rather die.

What am I going to do?

Live on a plane forever?

Fuck this.

Yeah, I'll live back here and hide in this bathroom.

That'll be a good way to not die because I guess you can't die if you're already dead.

What do you do, Hunter?

You're sitting back there and you look, and there's flight attendants, and there's the devil in a black robe at the front of the plane.

I'd probably say, I goofed.

I'm fucked up.

You just

like, oh, me?

I flew to Japan, and that was like a 13-hour flight.

The thought of being on an airplane for 37 more hours, like I would, I would just open the, I would open the latch and I would jump.

That's what I...

Also, what am I going to do?

I mean, like,

am I going to hide?

Do you think you're hiding on a plane?

You're in the back bathroom.

You're not hiding from anything.

The whole idea of the guy be like, Would they remember me?

Yeah,

they probably fucking would.

They've seen you here for 50 hours.

They know where the bathroom is.

Yeah, exactly.

The woman screamed your name as they pulled her through to give you to the devil.

I wonder if they remember that I'm here.

Yeah.

I mean, am I wrong?

I don't know.

No, no, I mean, I mean, yeah, there's not really.

I don't know what else he can do in the situation, though, other than die or just stay there.

Die.

Die.

Okay.

All right.

Well, you know, fair enough.

The lights in the cabin were back to normal and I couldn't smell any sulfur.

I cautiously made my way back to my seat and almost cried when the grinning, crying flight attendant came by offering a meal.

Crappy airline food was the most delicious thing I'd ever eaten.

When I'd finished, my mind immediately turned to Mary.

What had happened to her?

He waited till he got done eating to think about her.

He'd have his in-flight meal.

Oh, wait, oh, fuck, wait.

What happened?

Oh, that girl that died.

That girl that's dead.

I crept down the aisle towards first class, trying to keep a low profile.

It's an aisle.

It's a play aisle.

You can't only be so low profile.

Surprisingly, the flight attendants were nowhere to be seen.

They almost seemed to ignore me.

Almost as if they wanted me to find her.

She had a row to herself and was staring down at her phone in the window seat.

I slid into the aisle and shook her arm.

Mary.

She pulled out her headphones and stared at me with a surprised expression.

Yeah, what's going on?

Are you okay?

What did that thing do to you?

What did they do to you?

I'm sorry.

Remind me how I know you.

But what do you mean?

We just.

I realized with sinking horror that she had no idea who I was.

Fought back tears.

Mary, how long have you been on this flight?

She checked the watch on her wrist.

That's 4:03 a.m., so a few hours at least.

She stared at me the same way you'd look at a person claiming they were the second coming of Christ.

Her tone was low and reassuring.

I felt an iron grip on my arm and looked up to see two flight attendants.

Sir, this area is for first-class passengers only.

They were still crying and grinning, but just with tears this time.

I could still see streaks of blood staining in the front of their uniforms, though.

I was escorted back to my seat where I spent the next several days.

Attendants continued to stop by with food.

I would use the bathroom and soon was going absolute crazy with the monotony.

In retrospect, those few days weren't so bad.

There's a lot of content on the internet after all, even with the crappy plain Wi-Fi.

No, it didn't get really bad until around 10 days later when the Wi-Fi failed.

All I counted the Wi-Fi failing is him like, all right, it's time in hell.

It's time for this to be over.

No Wi-Fi, kill me with a gun.

I went to die.

It was sometime a week later.

Dude, a week.

This guy's been on here for like two weeks at this point.

Imagine sitting in the same position.

That's torture.

It's fucking torture.

Yeah.

It was sometime a week later that I lost control and began screaming for a flight attendant.

It took him that long.

That is longer than it would take you to break.

Me?

They didn't come for several minutes, but eventually one did.

Just let me see the captain.

The flight attendant bent low and spoke with the same customer service voice.

I'm sorry, sir.

The captain has made his decision regarding you quite clear.

You didn't answer his call and will, therefore, wait.

How long?

Quite a while, I'm afraid.

Don't worry, though, sir.

We'll be landing in about an hour.

She straightened and walked away.

That's funny.

It's like the devil was up there, like, oh, I just need to punch your tickets so you can, like, you know, not go to hell.

Yeah, I mean, it kind of makes it seem like this time.

Let her leave, you know?

That's what he gets.

That's what he gets for not walking up.

He has to be in plain time prison forever.

Let me out!

Nope, sorry, sir.

Girl, back in the back in the fuselage.

I started making notches on various parts of the seat back to keep track of different things.

One notch for each time I used the bathroom, one for each meal, one for every time I watched a given movie, that sort of thing.

It was hell.

I watched every movie in the seatback a dozen times over.

If I ever acted out badly enough, I would be escorted back to my seat by one or more more flight attendants.

Any attempt at conversation with other passengers was met with confusion by them, followed by a quick escort back to my seat.

I'd guess it was on or around day 30 that, oh my gosh,

you know, okay, so this is actually

cooler.

Like, I like the idea of the horror isn't, oh, there's something creepy in the plane.

It's like

he's in here forever.

Like, he's stuck in the same plane over and over.

That's cool.

I guess it was around day 30 that, in a moment of panic and psychosis, I broke my laptop and phone, screaming at the top of my lungs.

No one around me reacted in any way.

Two months later, I stunk.

Muscles in my legs were tight and cramped constantly.

I finally concluded that suicide was my only option after my 128th rewatch of Thor Ragnarok.

Actually, that's a pretty good

solution to come to after watching that movie, pretty much, I think.

It's funny because I made the Captain America joke earlier in Allies.

Yeah, unintentional bear trap.

That's always fun to have.

I got to my feet and limped towards the emergency act.

Oh, wait, I've got a soundboard now with this new setup.

Oh, good.

Let me see.

Give me one.

Hold on, let me hit.

This is becoming very professional.

I don't know.

I don't think you can hear it because it's just an OBS.

But I've got like the trombone.

That's pretty good.

Right?

I'm sure it sounds good to them.

I've got an air horn.

Hope you like that.

It's still going.

What else I got?

I got crickets.

I got applause.

This is great because I can hit you with these without you knowing it.

I've got chimes.

Oh, I've got a rim shot.

Yeah, there we go.

Excellent.

So

a monster?

What's that sound like?

Oh, is this like, does this make my voice sound like a monster?

Oh.

And what about this one?

I sound like a small robot now.

I can pitch my voice up, whatever that means.

Does this sound good, everyone?

Just point.

To think this is

engine gamers.

Attention gamers.

Yeah,

that was a good

sidestep in the middle of the episode for no reason.

What were you about to say?

You think what?

Oh, nothing.

I got to my feet and limped towards the emergency exit.

I knew normally the pressure inside the airplane forced the doors close, but I figured that nothing about my situation was normal.

If this didn't work, I'd find some other, more painful way to go.

Grabbed at the handle and swung it up.

To my shock, the door opened easily, though no wind of any kind whipped around the cabin.

Remained the standard, slightly too cold temperature that it had been for the past who knew how long.

Hunter, realistically, you should kill yourself after two days, right?

That's what I'm talking about.

I mean, if you think about it,

that's what I need to do.

He has the mental fortitude of like,

I mean, I trained professionally.

I mean, like, really, think about being on a plane for, I mean, two days is probably, I mean, like, it's a long time, but I think honestly, around a week.

Of everyone of the crying flight attendants, and no one's like acting like it's weird, and they keep saying an hour.

I feel like you would think something was going on, right?

Well, it would just be so comfortable.

It would be so uncomfortable.

That's why I'm like, I think your muscles would start fucking up way before two months.

Like, I think, like, you being, you would, your legs would probably get all locked up and

yeah

yeah i suppose i don't know i feel like i'd kill myself a lot sooner oh trust me i i mean i would immediately i'm just saying for i think people could probably handle it for a bit yeah we've established you would halfway through the uh pre-designated flight time

yeah i'd i would be already be diving for that door

i'd have to be holding you back in the air exactly they're like they're like no sure no and i'm like get on me that's what i'd be doing the whole time Let me go.

Let me go to God.

The open door called to me, a black portal out of the plane.

I stared at it for a long moment, almost too long.

An attendant's hand grabbed my shoulder, pulling me away.

In a fit of anger and strength that surprised me, I wrenched away and jumped out of the plane.

The wind whipping past my face, almost magical, a new sensation after so many months of the same.

The ocean below me grew closer, larger, and I realized that suddenly, I didn't want to die after all.

Great time.

It grew larger and larger and larger until it seemed that all I could see was darkness and waves.

I impacted the surface of the water so fast and hard that my entire body jerked around in the seat, pulled my hand back, sucking at my bruised knuckle.

I'd hit it on the seat in front of me.

No.

I whispered, then shouted.

No, no, no, no.

A flight attendant ran down the aisle, kneeling beside me.

Are you okay, sir?

I clinched my hands and a fist, almost swinging at her.

Then I realized she wasn't grinning.

She wasn't crying.

To be honest, she looked a little scared of me.

I reached my right hand down to my pocket where I could feel my now unbroken phone.

4.04 a.m.

Sir, if you can calm down, we'll be landing in about an hour.

My mouth tasted like ash.

Thank you.

I will.

I stared unblinking at my phone.

It now displayed 4.05 a.m.

Then I looked out my window and began to cry at the sight of city lights below me.

We did land in about an hour.

Can't even begin to explain why or how, but I'm currently sitting in an airport cafe typing this out.

I'm free.

I'm out.

And I'm never going flying again.

The end.

Well, there's an edit at the end that says, I sure hope the bartender here at the airport just has a naturally wide grin.

But that was an edit, so it doesn't count.

So the end.

Well,

someone said, 30 hours, Kanye reference?

That's the top fly.

Say this never saw this coming.

Well, you're not alone.

Like, thank you.

That's a good takeaway.

That's the story.

What, you're not a fan?

It's not your favorite.

You know, here's the, I guess I'll say this.

I guess I'll say that.

The idea is interesting, although,

I don't know.

I mean, the plain purgatory thing.

And then also, I, there's just a bunch of, I guess, snooty little complaints I have I feel like maybe aren't even beneficial, but it just, as always, with a lot of these things that are just they go by so quick is that you just need a bit more time with the characters.

Like, I don't really think I even give a fuck about the main character or Mary or anything.

Like, there's nothing that really grounded me to them to maybe, like, you know, I can be sympathetic to a situation of like, yeah, being on this plane would suck, but, like, really being invested into the character, you know, is such an important part of writing and storytelling that like,

yeah, you can have the creepy, weird, like smiling

attendance, but like, I just, I just wish there was more, more of everything.

Also, everything was just kind of like, I don't know, it's just, it seems like this, this, this story seems like it was kind of just a bit of an afterthought.

Like, it just seemed like somebody who was just like, I'm going to write this my free time.

Like, or on my break, my lunch break.

I'm going to write on my lunch break at work.

I, i feel which is fine i mean why not right i've posted stuff like that before um i feel like the time should have been spent on the several months rather than the months coming at the end of the third part i think that was more interesting i think it's a cool concept

it seems to me the idea at the end is like you've got to escape you have to like want to be out um so him jumping out of the plane is kind of like him

saying he's leaving.

You could interpret it as the whole it's all just a dream thing, but it sounds more so to me like he was in a test of sorts that the captain put up or the devil or whatever.

So it had little touches.

I wish there was more.

I wish there was more time spent.

Like my favorite parts of the story were like, oh, I started writing scratches on the back of the seat to see how long I'd been there.

That's cool to me.

The idea of like a seat in an aisle becoming a sort of purgatory or like a prison cell that you're keeping tally marks of stuff inside of.

I wanted more of that.

So it certainly has potential.

I like the concept more than anything, I think.

And this was one of the author's first stories, and he has a ton.

So I'd be interested in seeing what else they did or like more recent stuff they did at some point.

But seemed pretty prolific on No Sleep.

There's meat there.

I'd like to see it expanded on somewhat, but I thought it was fun.

I thought it was a fun read.

Not every habit is super long and stuff.

It's just

a fun little thing.

I'm not advocating for things to be long.

I just think like,

I think just like giving more time of like, what are we trying to accomplish with this section and stuff?

Like, I think like the idea of being stuck on a, like, even like, even even a 12-hour flight is long, you know?

So, getting to like 30 hours is insane.

That's like a very insane thing.

I think if I had to parallel it with any other store, it's I'm at the Glenmont Metro shoot me, whatever.

I don't think that story was the longest.

That's the one I was thinking of.

I don't think that is the longest story, but I think it has enough.

It has enough meat on its bones that it is

like when you first get into it it feels like these like the first waves feel like eternity until after a while when it's when the the the the the person telling the story has been around it so long that like eons are passing you know like to the to the reader it's as simple as that because we've already built up this thing to where now it's like you know months are meaningless because i've been here eons so it's like it's it's time moves relatively fast the longer in the story that it appears to go but i think like building that up more and building, I think like, and this is all obviously hindsight, whatever.

Sure.

You know, it is what it is.

I'm just saying for the, for the, for the thought of discussion and stuff like that, that, you know, if you have a character doing this, like

establishing, I think, like, maybe establishing a bit of the rules and then also just the kind of general chaotic nature of this.

I mean, like, a guy not freaking out and stuff is is crazy.

whatever

like him just kind of being like oh okay and like the people come over over and all they really say is like sir you're gonna have to calm down like after a while he would probably be like he'd probably say go fuck yourself or something and then like what's that repercussion look like if he's not being amicable that way you know what i mean but also just having it be a thing if i jumped out the window or i jumped out the door and now my plane's landing that didn't feel like very satisfying or earned to me Or whatever.

You know what I mean?

Yeah, it did kind of hurry up real quick.

It'd be cool if there was like hints he got at it.

Like maybe he saw someone else wordlessly do it, thinking they killed themselves, but then at the end he realizes they made it off.

Maybe there's a couple other people who also seem to be in the same state of purgatory.

Maybe one of them gets like

one of them just disappears.

One of them jumps out of the plane.

Like,

again,

more.

I think more.

I think there were good pieces, but more would help it in certain ways.

But for what it was, it was fun.

It was just a little like plain purgatory story, right?

Did you have fun, Isaiah?

Yeah,

I had fun talking about flight plan.

Flight plan's pretty good.

Flight plan's pretty funny.

So I looked at the end of it, and apparently she becomes like some.

No, don't tell me.

I want to watch it.

Don't tell me.

I want to watch it.

Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

I want to watch it.

I have fun with flight plan.

And

I think just playing around more with like what's going on outside.

We only see outside once and it's the ocean.

You know what I mean?

Or whatever?

Yeah, yeah.

Which is just the, it's supposed to be a dark ocean ocean or whatever, but I don't know.

Fucking pull out some Twilight Zone shit.

Do you see the captain on the wing?

Like, how crazy would it be if they're just like, oh my God, I think I see somebody.

Oh, that's the captain.

What?

Is it hold on?

Isn't there an old Twilight episode where the premise is...

Yeah, it's William Shatner.

There's something on the plane.

Some.

Yeah.

It's the best.

It's like the best fucking Twilight Zone episode ever.

How does it end?

So he gets off the...

So this is such a good fucking.

First off, I just want to be an advocate.

I'm going to use the end of this episode to talk about this.

If you guys, if no one's seen the Twilight Zone episode from the 60s, it is so good.

It's still so good.

My God.

But the

William Shadder episode, the William Shadder episode is probably the most

popular, but it's awesome.

It makes no sense.

It's so stupid.

It's like him being like...

It's a guy who's afraid of flying and he's like, had like a mental breakdown.

And then now he is okay.

His

mental hospital doctor says it's okay that he can go home right so to conquer his fear and to like test it out he is going to fly home and he's like kind of being sporadic and people know that on the flight that hey this is a guy that is having like you know he's kind of a mentally unwell man right so then while he's flying there's this fucking like hairy goblin on the wing in the i'm like on this wing and he's like oh my god and he's like freaking out the fucking the the the guy is like hacking at the wing and he's freaking out he takes out a gun and he's getting ready to do this stuff like all this different shit blah blah blah i'm not gonna whatever but it ends with everyone's like oh he's crazy again right oh he didn't make it he fucking you know pulled out a gun blah blah all that stuff but then the camera pans out and then you see that the wing is all fucked up that he was actually telling the truth the monster was real

it's awesome it's really good so the whole premise is there's he sees a monster on the wing yeah and he tries to stop it and it's like oh he's crazy.

But then there was actually a monster on the wing.

So they all die.

No, no, no.

They land the plane.

They land the plane.

And the reason that that's so good is because you are also questioning, is William Shatner fucking insane?

Right.

So them landing the plane, you're also just kind of like, oh, yeah, I guess he was a nut until it pulls out.

And then you see the thing's all fucked up.

And it's like, oh, no.

He was telling the.

And also the Twilight Zone movie from the 80s or whatever, it sucks.

Don't fucking watch that.

Just watch the 60s version of the show.

So good.

Love it so much.

But anyways, the whole point of that, though, is there's a clear,

I think, just establishing a clear motive of what is going on.

Use the story in the context, in the context of the environment.

It can be a purgatory plane and stuff, but like,

is there something that that relates to with the character?

Your themes need to always be revolving around your character and stuff like that.

I say always, but I just mean generally it's a good idea to have it be something that your character is a driving force to all the things that are happening and everything.

And there can be outside evil forces that are coming in and doing stuff, but I think the entire motivation should be based around your main character or that kind of thing.

At least,

like I said,

in a basic matter.

I'm sure there's other works that do it good.

But yeah.

So all in all, it's a fun idea, but you know, I enjoyed talking about flight plan.

I enjoyed even just riffing on what I would do with the flight attendants and how I would be a brave man and a white knight myself.

And

as you are, as you are in real life, and just the idea of a plane coming down and it just keeps raising back up and the kind of like fucking mental torture that would be.

Or even the baby eating thing.

Out of those, did you like the baby eating thing or did you like the ass being blown out thing?

More.

I think the baby eating thing kind of it's a more because it's a different one to be like, I'm going to die, but it's like, oh, I've got to kill someone.

I've got to kill someone that probably doesn't know what life is yet.

I have to take a life before it's had a chance to live.

Like, actually, that's probably good.

That's probably even a better thing.

Is what if you had to eat someone's spouse?

You had to eat a wife's husband.

So he's like a fully conscious man who's like, I'm in the middle.

Like, my wife's

just a guy.

Yeah.

Just a guy.

Yeah, because a baby doesn't know what's going on.

I mean, sad, right?

Right.

But, but I like how you phrase eating a man as a wife's spouse.

So just a guy.

Well, I meant I spouse and I was like,

I wanted to specify that it's it was a husband.

My thoughts were not arranged there correctly but also known as a wife spouse

is that is that not correct a husband i mean it's a complicated way to say husband but yeah like i said my my my uh my my thoughts weren't collected there but i will say if you had to eat a full man

like not even just part of him you had to eat him bones and all

uh-huh

And the flights of it could be crying and shit, and they put like apple butter over it, and it makes the bones soft.

He's even like, I didn't think I'd be able to eat through the bones, but I was was able to dig through because they put something on it and it made it all soft and squishy like jello.

Right?

Right.

Yeah, that'd be that'd be awesome, dude.

Yeah.

I'm just, all right, you know what?

I never mind then.

Never mind.

Thank you guys so much for watching this show.

Our most recent comment on the Patreon is someone comment and said, I just want to get pig roasted by you two, man.

I'm sorry, am I oversharing now?

Is that too much?

No, I just

would love a comment that just says something like,

you know, this is a fun read, guys.

Appreciate your time.

I don't think we get those.

Instead, we get the pig roast comments.

I don't think that's, I don't think that's our kind of channel, Hunter.

I don't think

anything,

I want people to have a, in the comments, I want you to say, did you like the baby eat, the butthole idea, or eating another human being?

Because I think that's the

The top comment on our last episode is bro turned 18 and became a state-mandated bottom.

That's the audience we've cultivated.

That's the kind of people we've put together.

Also, by the way, from the last episode, Turk, the guy, the YouTuber Turk we mentioned, he posted a few hours ago on his YouTube and just said, who is Turk Brownie?

So I'm glad that all of you immediately sprinted over there.

Everyone who left love on

Turk's channel.

A guy that hasn't posted a YouTube video in a year that just he logs in to see.

He's just kidding.

Just so much of it.

You know what you people commented

on that after he mentioned that?

Let's see.

Anyways, the 17th subject in the Fleshgate Revival Project was a success as he turned to life somewhere in the facility after we administered lethal shocks to his body.

And then someone referred to

the story as the crash out that resulted from this yaoi fanfic was beautiful.

What is yaoi?

What does that mean?

Thank you all so much for watching this episode of Creepcast.

Thank you so much to my

co-host here, Hunter.

Appreciate you all.

Be sure to show the author Worcester Street some love.

We'll have their stuff linked in the description.

They've wrote a ton of stuff.

Be sure to check it out.

Appreciate the audio listeners and Patreon as always.

You guys mean a lot and we will see you in the next one.

Bye guys.

You have to say the snarky comment at the end.

All right, well, sure, whatever.