S24 Ep22: NoSleep Podcast S24E22

The NoSleep Podcast - Creative Reason Media Inc.

A chilling episode of The No Sleep Podcast features three horror tales centered on distraction, reality, and the unseen. From a haunted truck stop to a cursed census and a terrifying YouTube hoax, each story blurs the line between fear and belief. The host sets a tense, immersive tone with a focus on psychological dread and supernatural threats.

Key takeaways

• Distraction leads to vulnerability in horror scenarios.
• Reality can be manipulated by unseen forces.
• Fear often stems from the unknown and perceived isolation.

Transcript preview

Water. It gives us life. We are drawn to it. Yet it holds immense power over us. It can bring unspeakable horror to it. Yet it holds immense power over us. It can bring unspeakable horror to the most familiar places. Yet it holds immense power over us. Riverbank or the endless ocean. It's time to dive deep into the abyss. From the dark waters of the Cape Fear River, immerse yourself in horror as you. Brace yourself, brace yourself for the cast. Thank you for joining us for the No Sleep Podcast. I'm your host, David Cummings. As we speed towards the end of season 24, we are keeping busy planning for the season finale and all the bonus content and other fun things we'll have for everyone between season. Shoot! We'll have our usual fan-favoured episodes like Old Time Radio and suddenly... That's a foul! Suddenly shocking, I mean. And we have some delightfully creepy episodes from our sleepless decompos... Are you kidding me? That was not on site! I mean, our sleepless decompositions episodes. You know what, I need to apologize if I seem distracted. The World Cup is happening. And I've got the game on while I'm doing this. Sorry about that. But isn't that what so often happens to us? We've got a job to do, something important that should require our full attention, only to find us distracted by other things. Whether it's our phones, something on TV, or perhaps another person who shows up to annoy us, we end up focusing more on the things that aren't a part of our job. And to illustrate this point in great detail, we have tales this week that feature people. going through situations just like that. They're trying to do their job or get something important done only to deal with things that make the situation turn frightfully fearful. It's almost like their stories turn into tales of unrelenting horror, which is a good thing for us. So I'm going to get back to work and focus on the task at hand. No more distractions for me. And your job now is to listen to these tales. and become immersed in the horror. That's it. Oh, and of course, your other assignment, as always, is to brace yourself, because it's time to plunge into the horror of our sleepless tales. and deep into the night. Surely there's not much to keep Eddie from getting his chores done, right? Well, in this tale, shared with us by author, Sam Con Pantel, Eddie's shift is interrupted by a strange customer who looks like he needs to cool off. Performing this tale are James Solis and Danza-Pula. So remember your tasks, get your work done, and above all, remember, No smoking. Three slow hours and two and eight hour shift. Things are already getting dull. I don't know if I should be grateful or not that I haven't seen a customer in ages. Things are already getting dull. I don't know if I should be grateful or not that I haven't seen a customer in ages. Only my boss would make a busy college student work alone. in the middle of nowhere at 2 a.m. But shit, at least I got away from my roommate for once. I pulled out a list of shift tasks for the 18th time to check if somehow something new appeared. To think I'd give anything to clean right now. Turn on all lights, check. Organized cash register. Check. Clean toilets. Check. Check. Mop floors. Check. Check. Check. Restock fridges and shelves, check. Damn, even for my boss, it's a pretty thorough list. He always forgets to tell me to turn on the lights. The store is spotless, no links to the previous shift workers, and I already ran out of chores to make up. I even searched through an abundance of cheesy truck-themed key chains, in case I could grab an extra anniversary gift for Casey. Seriously, how do we have key chains from Maybeline and Gizmo, but not Casey? The sound of the front door swinging open snaps me out of my tangential thoughts. There's a fuzzy shadow of a customer in the entrance. Wait, what the hell? Hello? I lean over the counter to get a better view. Can I help you? No response. What the hell? Hello? I swear someone was there. I get up to check outside and shut the door. Storming like fucking crazy and the wind must have pushed the door open. I breathe out. No intruders, our ghosts, our demons, or any of that shit. Thank God. I scribble a reminder on a sticky note to make the door a little harder for the wind open. That's all. and nothing unusual. Two more excruciating hours go by, and I only deal with one customer, an eccentric older woman in a yellow raincoat who purchases the weirdest combination of road snacks I've ever seen, tries to tip me a suspicious wrinkled $20 bill and tells me I'm a handsome young man who should come visit her cabin sometime. Great. Right as I'm wondering if I'll meet any more fascinating characters, the store plunges into darkness. Of course this damn thunderstorm causes a power outage. Following the winding drone of every piece of technology in the building turning off, our ancient generator attempts echo location. I trudge around the back of the store for a while, bumping against walls until at last I reach our generator small red light light. Yeah, yeah, I hear you. I feel my way around the utility room for the necessary cords and plugs, which must be stashed around the room in the most illogical way possible. Okay, you go here and you go in there. With a short delay, lights flicker on, fans were up again, and the security lock-in' there. clicks click back into place. Thank Christ. I could have sworn this old generator would be faulty. Back at the front, the damn door is open again. I didn't even hear the bell ring. The storm is getting worse. Cold gusts crawl into each corner of the room, knocking products off the shelves. Rain and hail splatter the windows from every direction. The sun should rise soon. The sky is abysmal. Even when lightning strikes, I can't recognize anything other than the curtains of rain. Then the hands. Long sharp hands reach through the doorway. Fingers curl around the frame, dragging the horrible being attached to them into the truck stop. I stumbled back and grabbed the edge of the counter. Whatever the hell is in front of me, it sure ain't human. skeletal corpse smells like smoke, and it leaves ash wherever it touches. Its back is hunched over to fit inside this building. Its long neck pressed up against the ceiling tiles, but it could easily be 10 or 12 feet tall. This, fuck, what the hell is it? This thing, has linky withered limbs. and glowing eyes sitting in a deteriorated black skull. Those eyes. Fuck. I can't pull myself away from them. This freak of nature is staring at me, staring inside me. Its gaze warms its way into my eyes. Pumps eyes through my veins and restricts itself around my lungs. My back slams against the floor and feeling drains out of my body. Shit, happening to me. The room sways and blurs together. I can't hear anything over a horrible incessant ringing. The figure towers over me, moving closer. An ash and bony hand reaches towards my immobile body. This arm splits into twos, threes, devils back on itself. The fluorescent lights blinding halo shine in my face. Dark smoke swells from its body and it fills the room. Its fingers press on my shirt and my eyes well up with tears. Whatever's left of that thing's flesh is burning hot. Little by little, its hand digs, works itself into my chest. My shirt ignites and peels away. Cheap fucking fabric, melting into nothing. My skin burns and bubbles into ashes. My and bones slough away to make room for this thing searching for my slowing heart. Tears leak out of my eyes and the moisture just evaporates. My lungs swell with smoke as I grasp for anything breathable. The sour choking smell of my burning body is almost as torturous as the pain. Is this it? I have to die here? Some shitty demon kills me in a truck stop in the middle of nowhere. Do I even get to say goodbye? Eddie! The thing retracts from my flesh, a second away from my heart. My anatomy rebuilds itself, fills the pit in my mutilated chest with reckless abandon. Blood rushes through my body, and I still can't hear anything over the pounding in my head. The face appears through the corpse's body. The withered creature disintegrates into smoke and ash. The face screams, the face screams, and shi-face, shakes me. Black spots fade in and out. My double vision flicks together for a moment, and I recognize who's above me. Eddie, get up. We have to leave, get up! Casey? I can't hear myself. He pulls at my stiff arms. Salty teardrops fall on my skin. The building is on fire, you have to get out! I forced myself up, relying on Casey to hold me upright. I cough some smoke out of my lungs, and grabs and pulls me out of the store. My head throbs and I can't keep myself on my feet. He shoves me into the passenger seat of his car, and I unhelpfully attempt to orient myself. Casey throws something soft over me. A blanket? I try to tug on it and see something bright out of the corner of my eye. Casey's right, the truck stops on fire. The reflection of flames dances on the car's window. Was it ever even raining? Did lightning strike when I wasn't paying attention? There's no fucking way this was some natural disaster. It made this happen. Did you see it? There's no response. I turn as much as my stiff body allows. Did you see it on top of me? See what? You were just laying there? I thought you were fucking dead. His eyes flick away from mine and he grips the wheel. Tears carved tracks through the soot staining his cheeks. I can't think. In case he didn't see, my head won't stop pounding. It touched me. It was killing me. He didn't see it. I'm in agony where it dug into me. Under the blanket, I gently feel my chest. The skin is tight, like a layer of thick, fresh scar tissue. It's numb, but the flashes of nerve pain follow my movements. If that thing wasn't real, if it was a hallucination from inhaling smoke. I stare back at the burning mess, the flames grow higher even as we drive towards the hospital. shoot out from the back of the building. The roof crumbles into itself, right where I would have been laying. Laring sirens and flashing lights rush closer. But I doubt the fire trucks can save what remains of that place. There's a shape in front of the building, silhouetted by the fire and smoke billowing around it. Somebody is standing outside. I squint and barely make out the shadowy pair of antlers. and piercing glowing eyes, as bright as the fire behind it. It's watching us. Let's take a short break for our sponsors who help us keep our heads above water. For waves of ad-free horror content, join our sleepless universe by going to sleepless. the No Sleep-Slee Podcast.com. That story reminds me about how terrible it is to burn your food. Charred food isn't tasty. That's why Kelly and I love Home Chef. Because I'm not organized enough to be a meal prep person, but with Home Chef, my meals are on point. every time. The meals are wildly impressive and so easy to make. I count on the Home Chef weekly delivery to stock my fridge and take care of meal planning. I've not only saved time, but also reduced dishes and clean up. And the recipes are easy enough that I don't burn the food. Home Chef is perfect for busy schedules, whether you need a 30 minute meal, an oven-ready tray, or even a quick microwave lunch. Home Chef has you covered. Home Chef takes the stress out of your week. weekly deliveries that keep your fridge stocked and eliminate meal planning and grocery runs, making it easy to eat well, save time and enjoy quick and delicious meals, even on your busiest days. And people really love it. Home Chef is rated number one by users of other meal kits for quality, convenience, value, taste, and recipe ease. For a limited time, Home Chef is offering no sleep listeners, 50% off, and free shipping for your first box. plus free dessert for life. Go to Home Chef.com slash no sleep. That's Home Chef.com slash no sleep for 50% off your first box and free dessert for life. Home Chef.com slash no sleep. Must be an active subscriber to receive free dessert. Thanks for your support, Home Chef. And we're thankful that this episode is sponsored by better help. We're now into summer and summer is the season of many people. We think about vacation, time to be outside and lots of warm weather activities. But summer can also be a time of stress. Kids are out of school and need looking after. Jobs and housework keeps us hopping. And before you know it, you're burned out, either literally from the sun or figuratively from all that you've got going on. I'll tell you, there is no summer break for me. I always have so much to do that my problem is not having enough time to get and enjoy myself. That leads to feelings of not doing enough for me. That's where therapy really helps me. Therapy can help people better understand their needs, feel more confident setting boundaries, and create a version of summer that actually feels good. So let better helps licensed therapists help you find a healthy balance during the summer and beyond. Trust me, it works with an average rating of 4.9 out of five for a live session based on overall right. 1.7 million client reviews. You don't have to say yes to everything this summer. Find support in therapy. Sign up and get 10% off at better help.com slash no sleep. That's better H-E-L-P.com slash no sleep. Now let's plunge back into the deep waters of horror. Here's some advice. Always be nice to Census Takers. After all, they're counting on you. Ha ha ha, that's fun. I bet Albert would laugh at that joke. He's a Census Taker in the town of Hemesley. But in this tale, shared with us by author, Don Tobin. Albert soon realizes that the numbers aren't adding up. and he has to figure out what's going on in this strange little town. Performing this tale are Graham Rowett, Mary Murphy, and Peter Lewis. So check your lists, do a proper head count, and then try to figure out why there are the extra ones. For 12 years I'd made a life out of counting people. Census work was neither difficult nor particularly thrilling, but it suited me. I found that numbers were reliable in a way that people were not. People misremembered and exaggerated. They moved around, had children, and ultimately died. I made sense of the mess using nothing more than a pen and a pen. It pleased me more than anything to tame the disorder and tuck it away into crisp Manila folders. It kept me moving. Door to door, town to town, enumerating the living and recording the dead. Sometimes I'd visit places that suited me. Tree-lined streets where the houses stood in neat rows and the hedges were trimmed just so. I'd knock on doors