Fire Creature

They've lost their homes to the fire that burned.

I bring them warm blankets with care and concern.

If there's anything you need,

don't hesitate to ask.

Then I'll walk past the corner and pull out a match.

You've crossed over to Spooked.

Stay

tuned.

Okay, so from the thermometer, Hanging outside the window, it's the kind of freeze that only happens after the blizzard.

Coldest day of winter, fourth gradish.

And I know,

I feel that if I stay inside this trailer with my pops, something very bad is gonna happen.

So I put on long johns on top of my long johns, socks on socks, on socks, my coat with the hood.

And I step out into the blinding whiteness.

Cold light.

The face of the moon cold.

Everything snow.

No trails into the woods.

No paths.

I walk

slowly

because

you can't mess up here.

No wrong steps.

Winter doesn't care.

Still, every move I make,

deeper into the woods,

the more the fear falls away.

The more the tear inside the house fades.

No destination, just movement.

Cold crackles and snaps, limbfuls of snow, I'll walk, making a game of how quietly I can move

of how slow I can breathe.

Silent as shadow, deeper into the lost

than I hear it.

Something,

someone else in this tundra, I turn toward the almost sound.

It can't outstealth me, outstep me.

Slowly, I push forward,

fearless.

Then I see it.

Closer than I would have imagined

a deer,

14-point 14-point buck, magnificent antlers.

If you are very, very lucky, you see this kind only once in your lifetime.

He glares directly at me.

Hot red blood drips from his muzzle onto the white snow.

And I'm thinking it's hurt,

probably shot.

And I'm angry.

It is not deer season.

No one can legally shoot anything, not on our property, and not leave it wounded and suffering.

And I...

I don't understand what I'm seeing.

At its feet,

a rabbit.

Steam rising from its freshly ripped open belly.

The deer glowers at me.

Protective of its prize, then

it bends its head down,

bites,

pulls, tugs a stretch of bloody viscera into its mouth, and daring me to take a step forward toward the red-stained snow,

feeds on the carcass.

No, no, no, no, no.

I take a step back, then two, because deers,

they don't eat flesh.

Deers are ruinous

four-chambered stomachs made for plants only for plants every Michigander knows this so this

this ain't a deer this is some kind of deer shaped monster

I don't even realize that I'm running until a low-hanging branch knocks me down I scramble back to my feet frantic sprinting crashing pushing away from that creature that abomination no more careful steps now running wild i hear it.

I hear something

crashing through the woods beside me, behind me, running, running,

knocked back down, climbed back up, and finally, finally, I see our trailer in the clearing sprinting toward it.

I see it.

The dread

leaking from the trailer like blood on snow the fear that pushed me out of the warmth into the cold radiating like sick.

I stop in front of my door.

The hungry cold gathers, sweat freezes on my lips, my forehead, my ears.

I listen for footfalls following me.

I listen for warning inside the house.

I listen, I listen.

And finally, I turn,

terrified,

back into the woods.

spokesdar.

There are many, many ways to walk the forest.

And now let's meet Jaitanur Razdan,

just seven years old, living with his grandparents in the beautiful city of Jammu, India, the foothills of the Himalayas.

Now, his grandfather would always tell him stories, but there is one story that he had kept to himself

until right now.

One day, I was in the front yard of my house playing with a ball while the sun was setting.

We had this house that was surrounded by farms and fields, and I could hear the birds chirping and going back to their nests.

I loved living there.

My grandmother was inside the kitchen preparing supper for the whole family, and my grandfather was sitting on the veranda.

That's where we used to sit in the evening and have a cup of tea and watch sunset.

I went to grab the ball, I bent down and as I got up, I saw a light blinking in the horizon.

It looked like it was a bulb or a fire floating in the air, six feet above the ground.

It's in the middle of the field, very far away from our house.

The light was there for just a few seconds, and then all of a sudden, it disappeared.

It was gone.

My first thought was: there's never a light on that side of the house.

There was no electric pole.

There was no road on that side where you could see a bike or a car or a bus or anything.

i turned to my grandfather i used to call him papa g

i said papa g did you notice that i just saw some light on the other side of the field did you also see that

the expression on his face it suddenly changed he looked startled and surprised

He said, if you ever see a light in the forest at a far off distance, never approach it or go towards it.

Just make sure you follow your path.

The immediate question was like, but why?

It's just a light, right?

He said, okay, sit in this chair right next to me and he started narrating his story.

In the early 1950s, my grandfather used to work for Food and Supplies Department as an inspector.

His primary role was basically going around to different parts of Kashmir to check the quality of the food grains before they could be distributed within the province.

One fine day in the fall season, my grandfather had to go for an inspection to a very far-off village in the middle of the mountains.

So he prepared for the trip.

He put everything that he usually used to carry in his bag.

A spare set of clothes, a shoe horn, a knife that he would use for protection if needed, and some food that he could eat on his journey.

He caught the bus in the city of Srinagar at around 10.30, 11.

His plan was to get off the bus around 5-5.30.

and then another one hour of journey on a horse carriage and be at his end destination before it started getting really dark.

After a few hours into the trip, the bus broke down.

So he ended up reaching his first stop at 8 p.m.

and it was already dark.

My grandfather stepped out of the bus.

expecting a horse carriage to be there.

There was nobody there.

He was in a very small town.

Everything was closed.

But then he thought, he has been to that village so many times.

Maybe he can just start walking towards the place.

It might take him just two hours.

So he started walking away from that town towards the forest.

He could barely see the path in front of him.

He could hear hear crows, wild dogs barking at a distance.

He was not afraid.

He was used to going to places like these.

All of a sudden, he notices a small light flickering at a distance.

It looked like a ball of fire.

dark orange in color.

It was a few feet above the ground, like hanging in the air.

He thought, Why is a flame there?

I've taken this journey so many times.

There's supposed to be nothing in that direction.

He thought maybe it's a shepherd.

Usually they take their animals for grazing in the mountains.

But then the light disappeared.

He thought, oh, maybe he's imagining it.

So he kept walking.

Around 30 to 40 paces ahead, he notices something from the corner of his eye.

He turned his head to the left and he noticed

there's another light there.

This light is at far off distance on the other side of the mountain, hanging in the air.

He was surprised.

Is this the same light that he saw earlier?

Was that light moving and following him?

Or it's a new light.

And then he turns around and he sees four lights

right behind him at a distance.

They were very close to each other as if it was four lanterns together.

And they are getting slightly brighter, which means the distance is getting shorter

My grandfather was wondering is somebody following me?

Are there any thieves or dacoites that are following his lead?

He's scared.

He turned around and he started picking up pace towards his destination.

My grandfather looks ahead and he notices the first lights they were all changing directions

Some were moving left, some were moving to the right, a few feet above the ground.

It's as if the lights are circling around him.

They are following him from different directions.

He starts thinking,

this is supernatural.

My grandfather was a devout Hindu.

He had heard stories from his grandparents about spirits.

Some of those mystical beings that take possession of your soul, they take possession of your body.

Some of those try to kill.

And it is said the forest is full of those kind of creatures.

He thought, I better get out of this place as soon as possible.

He started running.

The trail moved to the right along the mountain and as soon as he turned right, what he saw was

out of this world.

In the horizon in front of him, there were 50, 60 lights glowing, floating above the ground, moving from one side to another, crisscrossing, jumping 50 feet in irregular patterns.

Some of them were coming closer, some of them were moving further away.

Some lights would go off and they would start going in a different direction altogether.

It was like a dance of those lights.

My grandfather started rubbing his eyes.

It was something that he had never seen or imagined.

His hands were shaking, his legs were shaking,

and he starts running at his full full speed.

Then he noticed that the lights were kind of following him, they were also moving in the same direction.

He was scared so much that he thought this is the end of his life.

He realized that the village was still far ahead.

He couldn't run that far.

And he suddenly remembered that his parents and grandparents had told him when he was a kid

if you are ever in danger you should chant Hanuman Chalisa and Lord Hanuman will come and save you

he is the monkey god the savior of all

the lights are immediately behind him

so he hurriedly sat down opened his bag, he took out his knife and also the metal shoehorn that he would always carry with him.

It's a common belief in some parts of India that having a metal object with you saves you from anything supernatural.

He put that shoehorn on the ground,

he sticked that knife into the ground,

he crossed his legs, closed his eyes, and started chanting Hanuman Chalisa loud and clear.

He He is just sitting there

praying.

He doesn't dare to open the eyes, he just keeps chanting.

And he's just praying.

Pray,

pray.

Finally, he gathers the courage to open his eyes.

He could not see any lights.

He looked behind him, he turned left, he turned right,

but there were no lights to be seen anywhere.

He thanked God.

He grabbed the knife and the shoe on in his hand, and he started running towards the village.

Oh, watch your step.

Wow, your attic is so dark.

Dark.

I know, right?

It's the perfect place to stream horror movies.

What movie is that?

I haven't pressed play yet.

ATNT Fiber with Al-Fi covers your whole house.

Even your really, really creepy attic turned home theater.

Jimmy, what have I told you about scaring our guests?

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I don't mean to interrupt your meal, but I saw you from across a cafe, and you're the Geico Gecko, right?

In the flesh.

Oh, my goodness.

This is huge to finally meet you.

I love Geico's fast-and-friendly claim service.

Well, that's how Geico gets 97% customer satisfaction.

Anyway, that's all.

Enjoy the rest of your food.

No worries.

Uh, so are you just gonna watch me eat?

Oh, sorry.

Just a little starstruck.

I'll be on my way.

If you're gonna stick around, just pull up a chair.

You're the best.

Get more than just savings.

Get more with Geico.

He ended up reaching the village at 11 o'clock.

My grandfather straight went to the village head's house.

The village head was a very good friend of my grandfather.

The village head came and he opened the door.

He said to my grandfather, What happened to you?

Why are you so late?

Are you okay?

Why don't you come in?

So my grandfather comes in and he sits on the ground on the carpet, also known as Kaleen.

He told my grandfather, okay, so what happened in the journey?

After my grandfather explained it to the village head, He had very concerning look in his eyes.

He said,

you know what?

You should consider yourself very lucky that you made it to my place tonight.

Not everybody's been so lucky.

My grandfather asked him, why?

He's like what you saw there.

It's called a Rachok.

Some people also call it Brahmarachok.

They say that a Rachok is a human-like creature on two legs and it has a light on his head.

It has a fire on his head.

It's so bright that you cannot see his face.

He shows himself to people who are traveling at night.

It creates an illusion, makes you take the wrong road.

People usually tend to follow the light, thinking there's a human dwelling there or a village.

My grandfather is like, yeah, I have heard about Rajok when I was a a kid.

I thought it's a, you know, story you tell your kids and then when you grow up you kind of forget about those stories.

So is it real?

And the village had replied, yes, it is real.

There have been people we never found again.

In the past, we had to send search parties to find people.

Some of them were lucky we found them.

But some people we have no clue about what happened to them.

You are lucky that you did not leave the trail and start following those lights.

Otherwise, who knows, tomorrow morning we might be looking for you in the forest.

My grandfather was shocked.

He said nothing.

But he also felt a sense of gratitude towards the Lord.

Probably it was some of his good karma that helped save his day.

After that he made it a point that he did not travel anywhere by himself at night.

My grandfather finished his story, he went quiet, then I was silent.

I had goosebumps and

I was also scared a little bit because I had just seen a light.

My grandmother had actually come out and she was also listening to this story probably maybe 20th time or 50th time.

My grandma says, okay, let's go.

Let's have dinner now.

I am 40 now and I still remember all the details of this story.

It left an everlasting impression on me.

I do believe there are still Rajok somewhere in those mountains.

I still have an iron ring that was given to me by my parents.

I've never taken that ring off my finger.

It's been a part of my body for the last 30 years.

Just

keeps me safe.

Let's put it that way.

Thank you, Razan, for sharing your grandfather's story with Spook.

The original score for that story was by Clay Xavier.

It was scouted by Adukiamatu and produced by Eric Yanez.

Now then,

1868 in London, in front of several witnesses, a man by the name of Daniel Douglas Holme flew out of a story window and flew back in through another window.

Naturally, folks were both amazed and dubious.

Daniel later allowed himself to be tested by multiple skeptics, including eminent scientists.

After a thorough examination, one of these esteemed souls finally concluded, and I quote,

I have seen him rise completely from the ground on several occasions.

Daniel never charged for his performances.

Even after his death, no concrete evidence to dispute his miracles ever arose.

So

I guess what I am asking spooksters is,

can you fly?

Can you?

Seems unlikely, but if you can, I really need to know about it.

No funny business.

Spooked at snapjudgment.org.

Let us know why

because there's nothing better than a spook story from a spooked listener spooked at snapjudgment.org and if you want to see spook come to life a whole new way follow spooked on YouTube Instagram tick tock it is on spread the word spooked is brought to you by the team that Still returns home before the streetlights come on.

Except, of course, Mark Ristich.

Mark shot out his street lights a long time ago.

There's Davy Kim,

Zoe Frigno,

Ann Ford, Eric Yanez, Taylor DeCott, Marissa Dodge, Miles Lassie, Doug Stewart, Paulina Creeke, Elizabeth Z.

Pardu, Aditya Matu, Lulu Jemima.

The spook theme song is by Pat Masidi Miller.

My name is Glen Washington.

And it feels like our consciousness is expanding to consider ideas that we may have dismissed as absurd or fringe even a little while ago.

Mainstream thinkers speak about Gaia,

the collective unified consciousness of the planet, which I think is progress, but

it's hard to get my mind around.

The planet?

What about

this place?

What about this forest, this valley?

Can it have its own consciousness?

Can it love?

Can it hate fear?

See, the ancients didn't just build temples to their gods.

They built temples where gods already danced.

Those standing stones aren't placed at random.

Those sacred groves don't flower by chance.

Our reverence is a dialogue with that which is already here.

A communication that demands we approach with offerings,

with respect.

In return,

some places give blessings,

others spit curses.

They are no more the same than we are, each speaking its own tongue.

When you think you feel that whisper of rain on your skin, when the buzz of the swarm presses against your daydream, listen,

you may be standing exactly where the ancients would have built a temple.

You may be standing on a temple where the mystery still dwells,

still watches, still waits.

Do you imagine that you cannot hear the scream of a place and it is being murdered as we kill our own gods?

This is not just madness,

this is darkness,

and it's why we plead

why we beg

never,

ever,

never, ever,

never, never, ever

turn out

the lights.