Miles

This is creepy.

“A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing creepy pastas and urban legends in the world.”

Whether these stories truly happened or while simply fabrications is for you to decide. These stories made in teen graphic depictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised. I hate everyone and it is so cold in here. Honestly, I do not know what the deal is with this place.

No one ever gets back to me about the notes that I leave out. Nor sponsors to my emails. Just spend all night listening to these old recordings.

Sometimes I forget why I'm here in the first place.

Trying to catalog and digitize all these old earrings. Even the ones that don't make sense. The ones that sound like the feed in our options we keep having a deal with on the show.

“The only thing I can think of is that something about running the digitization through my laptop is”

bleeding through to other systems. But honestly, I don't know enough book computers to understand why and sort of completely deleting the podcast feed. I'm not sure that I can do anything to change that. The hosting site can't do anything because they say the audio is getting uploaded through my account,

so I don't know. Hopefully they don't get too weird. For now, let's just roll into our weekly stories. I didn't bring a hoodie since it's about 80 degrees outside. And the sooner I can get out of here, the better.

First up, a troubled young girl's sessions with a child's psychologist

reveal a frightening relationship with her mysterious imaginary friend, who's influenced seems to follow her wherever she goes. From writer J. T. Johnson and narrator by Michelle Kane, creepy presence, miles. The following transcript was partially recovered from Dr. Harold M. Lenny.

His ongoing research with patient redacted was incomplete due to a technological error and failure to upload to the software. The following transcript will be included in his thesis on imaginary friends and children.

Location of patient redacted remains inconclusive.

Please see Dr. Redacted for unrestored file access. Patient Redacted H7 symptoms include visual and auditory hallucinations. Patient displays outward aggression and acute agitation. Patient displays physical violence to others and to self. 24-hour surveillance is advised. Psychosis, prognosis, and conclusive for their testing and sessions recommended.

“You aren't supposed to talk about it. That's what they keep saying.”

They pinch their faces up like they eat sour candy and say, "Don't say that again or you're going to bed." The yell of lot. That's fine. Myel says they're stupid. Myel doesn't like it when people yell at me. I get to see a doctor now. His name is Mr. Lenny, but he says most kids call him Mr. Lemon

because he likes yellow. That's okay. But Myel doesn't like him. That's all for now. Bye! Today I got to go see Mr. Lemon again. His office smells like candy and he said we could color. He even had a new packet of crayons with pointy tips. I really liked that. We drew my mommy and daddy and my big brother Eddie. I also drew Mr. Lemon a bunch of lemons smiling. He said he would put it up on his wall. I think that's pretty cool.

He asked if I could draw myel's. I almost did but Myel's got really mad. When Myel's gets mad, he gets really big and I like that. But when Myel's this mad, he can get me into people and I don't like that as much. Well, sometimes I do. I'm not supposed to talk about it. I didn't draw Myel's because I like Mr. Lemon. He said it was okay that I didn't want to. Then we played with toys. I don't feel like talking anymore. Bye!

I am not happy today. My new mommy and daddy said I can't talk about Myel's anymore.

I don't know what that means but it made Myel's very mad. Sometimes I like when Myel's gets mad.

“Sometimes Myel's makes everything better. He likes to stomp and shout and he can be as loud as he wants”

because Mommy's and daddy's can't hear him. Don't tell anyone that. That's one of Myel's secrets. My new mommy fell down the stairs today. New daddy got very mad at me and asked if I pushed her. What did you do, you little? Well, he said a naughty word. I won't say it. Anyway, new mommy had to go to the hospital and new daddy said I had to leave. Good. I hope my new home

doesn't make me stop talking to Myel's. I have to go. Bye! I don't like Mr. Lemon very much today.

Even if he has fun toys and silly music. He wanted to talk about my new mommy and that made me mad. Myel said if I don't want to talk, I should play the dead doggy. Myel says grown-ups hate that game and he was right. I laid on the floor and pretended to be a dead dog. He can't make dead dogs talk. Not ever. Mr. Lemon said it was okay if I didn't want to talk. He said he understood things might be very scary right now. Mr. Lemon is stupid.

I'm going to go play with Myel's. Bye! My new mommy went to be with Jesus.

New daddy said it was all my fault. A nice policeman came and asked me questions. The old lady who drives me to my new home stayed with me the whole time. She smells kind of funny, but she made sure the policeman was nice to me. Myel says the old lady is Yaki. He says Yaki thinks should be thrown away. I told Myel's not to throw away the old lady. She brings me places and I'm not big enough to drive. Maybe Myel's can drive.

“I have a new mommy and daddy again. Their names are. I can't remember their names,”

but they said I can call them mommy and daddy if I want. They even said it was okay if I talk to Myel's. New mommy said she had a imaginary friend too. I wish people new Myel's wasn't imaginary. But if they did, he probably got a jail for hurting old mommy and real mommy and Eddie too. I'm not supposed to talk about it. I get to see Mr. Lemon today. I hope he has candy. New mommy and new daddy don't have much candy here and I miss it. Okay, bye. Myel's got big

Matt today. He was roaring and stomping and one of the other kids here saw him and started to cry. My hate crying. I hate crying babies and I told Myel to shut the crying baby up. Myel likes it when I ask him to help me. The old lady asked me, "What did I do to my new brother?" I said nothing. She asked me if Myel's hurt my new brother and I didn't lie because lying means you go to hell. So I said yes. She asked me what Myel's did and made me talk into a silly box that recorded my voice.

Kind of like this I guess. I said my new brother was being a big cry baby pants and Myel's shut him up. I said sorry for saying shut up because those aren't nice words. The old lady looked very sad and mad when I said that. She asked, "Well, how did she make George be quiet then?" I guess my new brother's name was George. I said I couldn't tell.

“It was a big secret and Myel's hates it when I say secrets.”

The old lady said I would be seeing Mr. Living soon but I can't stay with my new mommy and daddy. That's fine I guess. It's time to go see Mr. Lemon. Bye. Mr. Lemon was really cool today. He even said Myel sounded like a really good friend. He said every kid should have a nice guy like Myel's and that made me laugh. He wants to find his own Myel's and I said I'd try to help them. Myel said no. He said Mr. Lemon is that sneaky snake and should be shut up like George was.

I'm glad Myel listens to me because I like Mr. Lemon.

new brother. And I had to lie and say yes. Butish. Because I'm not sad. Not even a little.

Mr. Lemon asked if I could draw Myel's today and Myel said yes. I did my best job making sure Myel's looked good. Mr. Lemon didn't have a red crayon today so I had to use pink. That made Myel's look extra silly. Myel didn't like that he looks silly. He didn't get mad though. When Mr. Lemon saw it, his face went all funny. He asked if Myel scared me. I said no but then I whispered in the beginning he did. Myel didn't like that either. I hope Myel saves

Mr. Lemon alone. The old lady's getting me McDonald's for dinner so bye. The old lady is

no fun. She's a no fun but head and I hate staying with her. She said I have to stay with her until

“she finds Myel lobster home. Or a roster home? I don't remember the word. She told me it's not my”

phone and she'll find me a nice family soon. Myel swans to eat her up. He said she'll be yucky but he won't mind. Myel likes to eat lots of yucky things. He even ate that crybaby George. Oops. Don't tell anyone that. Okay bye. Myel's ate the old lady. I told him not to but he did. She even saw him. I couldn't believe it but she saw Myel's and she tried to scream. But Myel's is fast and big. He jumped her up and it was so yucky. I even threw up. I can't say

don't like it when Myel eats messy. It looks like a messy spaghetti dinner and maybe kind of sad. I hope all new brother George didn't cry the way the old lady did. I'm glad I get to see Mr. Lemon tomorrow. He's a nice friend. Mr. Lemon asked me if Myel's hurt the old lady. He called her Patty. This may be lap because it sounds like crabby Patty. I said yes. I told him not to tell. Because I didn't want Myel to get in trouble. Mr. Lemon asked if Myel's is the one who pushed

my first brother down the stairs. I made Myel's mad because I told Mr. Lemon yes. I'm not supposed

to talk about it. Mr. Lemon is a very nice and said he would make sure Myel's didn't go to jail. I guess that's okay. I wish he didn't eat the old lady. Who will take me to my new mommy's intact? He's now. Mr. Lemon asked me what happened to my real mommy and daddy, but Myel's got

“very mad and rored. It was so loud my ear's hurt and I think Mr. Lemon got a little scared.”

He can't see Myel's but he saw something I think because he said it was time to be done for the day. I hope Myel stops being so hungry. A nice police lady came today and brought me a sandwich and french fries. She said she was doing her job and asked me some questions. I said okay because I'm a big kid and I like to help. She told me to tell her what Myel's did and I thought really naughty but I said okay because Myel should know I am not happy he ate

up the old lady. Oh lady, grab me daddy. The police lady was really nice and smiled the whole time even when I told her how Myel slurped up the old lady arms like big fat noodles. Yaki! She said I did a very good job and gave me a sticker. It looks like a star and it's shiny. I really liked it but Myel's got mad and ripped it up. Maybe Myel's is in a very good friend anymore. I asked Mr. Lemon if he could get Myel to go away. Myel's starting to scare me

now and I don't like it. He grows and shakes my bed and pulls my hair. He even makes me do bad things. I didn't mean to write the bad words on the wall but Myel's made me do it. I'm staying in a home

“with a lot of other kids. Some of them are really mean and called me a word I don't remember”

but they say it a lot and it makes Myel's laugh. I don't like it when Myel's laughs at me.

whole day and then called Mr. Lemon. I told Mr. Lemon, Myel's isn't being a good friend anymore.

He said he would help me. Now I'm scared for Mr. Lemon. I hope Myel's leaves him alone. Bye! Myel's made me hurt a girl today. He said the little girl was a big mini pants and told me to make her go away. I didn't want to make her go away. I thought she was nice and she only shared her toys with me. Myel said she was only pretending to be nice. Myel said she was actually mean and called me names when it wasn't around. That made me angry but I didn't want to hurt her.

“I don't think I did. Myel said I did one harder. That's why I did it.”

But that's not true. Myel's made me do it. I hope Mr. Lemon lets me see him soon.

I don't want to go to jail for hurting that little girl. Bye. Mr. Lemon has to meet the draw Myel again. But this time he wanted me to draw all the way as Myel's hurt my old mommy and daddy. Even Eddie. I don't like to talk about that but I did because I know Mr. Lemon is trying to help me. When I was drawing Myel's hurting Mommy and Daddy, Myel started breaking the pictures on the wall. He even ripped up the picture I

“made for Mr. Lemon. Mr. Lemon started shouting when Myel said that. I got very scared.”

Myel's made a big, big mess and I didn't get to finish my drawing. I hope Mr. Lemon isn't mad at me. Bye. I don't get to see Mr. Lemon anymore. The new Dr. Lady said Mr. Lemon had a very bad accident. No one will tell me if Mr. Lemon is okay. But Myel said he ate him up. He said he ate him up very slow and made sure Mr. Lemon cried a whole lot. That made me cry. I don't like Myel's anymore. I wish he would go away. The new Dr. Lady is named Lisa. She isn't as smiley as Mr. Lemon was

and she doesn't have candy. She likes to talk about Myel's and that makes Myel's angry.

“He even broke the pictures on her was but she didn't yell at Myel's. She yelled at me. I said I'm not”

doing it. I said Myel's is doing it. She even asked a man in a wire shirt and white pants to give me a shot and it herded a whole lot. I cried until I fell asleep and when I woke up I was in a big room with a bed and a bunch of things that go beep beep beep. I even had wires on my head. The nice nurse man said I can pretend to be a robot. I like him. I get to still talk into this little box they said because it helps the doctors understand me. That's okay I guess. Okay bye. That mean Lisa Lady is gone.

The nice nurse man said she found a new job far away. Myel said that was a lie. That the nice nurse man is a fibber and the Myel's made her car go crash crash boom. That's okay. She was a meaner booker lady anyways. I wish Myel's would be nice again. He says maybe he should eat me too. I'm very scared. I wish Mr. Lemon could help me. Bye. My name is Susie Stepal. They said I should say my name. So, hi. I'm Susie. I used to have a mommy and a daddy and a brother named Eddie.

But my imaginary friend Miles heard of them very bad. The new doctor says I shouldn't see that. They says I should say the truth even if it makes me very sad. The new doctor says I need to stop talking about Miles. He says I did the bad things.

I didn't do the bad things. I'm Susie not Miles. He was Miles had never crawled out from under my bed.

Bye. The new doctor says I'm untable or something. The new doctor is a very mean and keeps saying I'm lying. I take Yucky pills now and they make me feel Iki. I sleep a lot now and I don't like playing much anymore. Miles likes to pull my hair and scratch me and it makes me mad.

sore now. Miles says he will eat me up soon and very scared. I miss Mr. Lemon. I miss all mommy and

daddy. I don't miss Eddie. Okay, bye. Today, a lady and a man came from the government. They had a big folder with lots of pictures and papers inside. I don't know how to read that good yet. And the man said that it was A. Okay. I thought that was funny. I'm still very sleepy. They said the medicine I take can make me sleepy but I can stop taking them if I try and get better. I don't like this place with the mean doctor and the mean nurses. No one is very happy here

“and I think that makes Miles happy. Miles is hungry again. He says he's going to eat up a little”

boy who cries a lot. I hate cry babies and I hope he leaves that little boy alone. I told him

not to eat that sad boy and he worded me and shook me real bad. My head hurts now. The mean doctor said I had an episode. I don't understand because I wasn't watching TV. I mean doctors stupid. If Miles eats anyone I hope he eats him. Bye. The cry baby boy is gone. The mean nurses keep asking me what I did. I cry a lot now. I hate crying but they won't believe me when I said I didn't do it. I try not to talk about Miles. I'm not supposed to talk about him. When I say

Miles the mean doctor gets a very mad and says I'm going to go to kid jail if I don't stop it.

“I think he's not supposed to talk to me like that because one of the mean nurses time not”

get off. Maybe that nurse isn't so mean. Miles is still hungry. I think he ate up that little boy his belly is a very big now and I can hear lots of screaming inside his big stinky belly. Miles says I will be in his big belly soon too. That is very scary. I can't tell anyone that because I'm not supposed to talk about Miles. Bye. Today the lady and the man from the government took me away from the mean doctor. I am very happy. They said they don't mind if I still talk

to the little box and that makes me happy. The lady said they weren't really from the government and were only pretending. She asked if I like to pretend and I said yes. She said if I wanted to stay away from the mean doctor I needed to pretend she was my mommy and that's fine. She's nice. The man is very silly and likes to wear lots of necklaces. I know one of them. It's the cross for Jesus. I don't know the others though but they're pretty. The man says he's going to help

Miles go away. He says Mr. Lemon called him before Mr. Lemon had his bad, bad accident. I hope he's right. He said his name is Charlie. He said it's like Charlie Brown. I don't know who that is. The lady said her name is Julie. I like that. Miles is still with me. He can make him so very small when he wants and he likes to hide and dark places. I told Charlie and Julie, Miles is following us and they said that was A-O-K.

It made me laugh again. Bye! Julie likes to splash water on me sometimes and makes me laugh because it's like the sprinkler parks at the 4th of July. She asked if it makes me feel funny and I say no. She asked if it makes Miles mad and I say no. They want to know what makes Miles run away and I was very sad when I said nothing makes Miles run away. They like to talk quietly about. They say they're having grown up talks but they give me candy and McDonald's

and that's all right with me. Miles says he's hungry and wants to eat Charlie

“but I don't think he can eat Charlie. I think it's because Charlie wears too many necklaces.”

I better go. Julie wants to read me a story from a big, similarly book. Bye! Miles ate Julie. I don't want to talk about it. Bye! Charlie is a very mad. He says it's not my fault but I think he's mad at me.

Maybe Miles should eat me. Okay bye. Miles is getting bigger and bigger. He's like a big

“giant now and he's a very scary. He was not this scary before and I think he's trying to be scary.”

I think he likes it when I'm scared and cry. Charlie said he has a friend coming to help get rid of Miles but Charlie doesn't look happy anymore. I don't want Charlie to get hurt too. I wish my life was normal like when I have mommy and daddy and Eddie. I wish Miles had come out from under someone else's bed. Bye! Charlie's new friend is named Tanya. She's a very nice and has lots of pretty rocks. She likes

to burn stuff that smells funny and she asks if it makes me feel funny then I say no.

She asks if the smelly stuff makes Miles mad and they say no. It makes him happy. She doesn't like that answer. Miles has been hurting me again. I have big scratches on my arms and he's pulled my hair so bad. I have a spot where there's no hair now. It makes me cry. Charlie asked if I pull my own hair and I said no. I hope Charlie doesn't think I'm doing the bad things. Tanya asked if I could draw Miles for her and I did. She didn't have crayons so I had a

user pen. She took away the paper when I was gone. I hope she doesn't run away. Miles is angry again

he keeps shaking my bed and throwing the chairs. Charlie says he knows I didn't throw the chair

“because I was sitting on the bed. I think Charlie can almost see Miles now. I'm very scared.”

Bye. Charlie is taking me to see the ocean. I'm so excited. I haven't ever seen the ocean before. Will there be murmades? Charlie says he can't make Miles go away. Charlie says Miles is stuck to me and I instruct to Miles. That makes me sad. He says I might keep hurting people and I go very mad and said I am sozy. Not Miles. He said sorry but I don't think he's sorry. I think he thinks I am bad like Miles. He's taking me to see the ocean. He says we will be very high up.

I ask if we can play in the water and he says maybe. He says we will see it from a cliff but maybe if I'm a good jumper I can play in the water. Okay bye. Miles wants me to run away. Miles says Charlie is a bad man and is going to hurt me. Tanya went bye bye. But Miles didn't hurt her. Miles says Tanya could see him and that she told Charlie something very bad. Miles says now Charlie is a bad guy and Tanya is making Charlie do a bad bad thing.

I miss Julie. I miss Mr. Lemon. I miss my mommy and my daddy. Miles says if I go see the ocean Charlie is going to push me into the water. Miles says if I get hurted Miles will just have to find a new kid.

“I think Charlie is ready to go now. Bye.”

Charlie says I can make one more of these. He says I should tell whoever is listening that I am safe and happy. He says to tell you how excited I am to see the ocean from up so high. I wonder if I can touch a cloud. Charlie also said we get to jump from our Dippy top high spot and fly into the water. That sounds fun. Miles is a very mad but can't hurt Charlie. Miles says Charlie is a bad booger man and he's going to hurt me.

Miles is gone now. I told Charlie Miles went bye bye to find a new kid to play with but Charlie says I'm lying. This made me mad and I started to cry. He said I'm not lying. Miles is all gone now. Charlie says I'm pretending. He gets it's time to go see the ocean now. He says when I jump into the water Miles will go bye bye forever but Miles is already gone. I wish he believed me. Time for me to go bye.

And next, after noticing a strange woman and an impossibly vivid blue sports car during a

confront memories he had spent years trying to keep buried. From writer Joshua Bryant

“and hered by need to fort, creepy presence, the bottle, in ice.”

I never let my mind drift. It is not flotsome and I'm not an ocean.

My mind is something specific, individual and silly and don't need to me. Metaphores cannot capture it. It and all it contains may be the only true property I own and an owning it. I dictate the direction it takes every moment I'm alive. My mind is my instrument and nothing will take it from me. The day was too hot for February. The sky seems submerged in the white light radiating from the sun.

The road stank. Wind shields gleamed like beetle eyes. The sounds of the city seemed distant

beneath the heat like it was the dead of summer. The palm trees and the trailer parks

“looked like bleached finger bones. Their fronds like splitting green nails.”

There was an ugly day. The traffic was thick and the AC and my car wasn't working. After eight hours at the warehouse I was ready for a drink of anything a few degrees below room temperature and my head was throbbing from temple to temple. So, of course, every light that every intersection was red. Either radio off hoping the silence would somehow keep me cooler. Every window in my car was rolled down and I fanned myself with a ball cap. I tried to

ignore the taste of sweat at the corners of my chapped lips. Every tiny detail of each passing moment seemed to taunt me, like wagging tongues in the faces of red-faced children. Frustrated I tapped the pole of my hand against the hot black steering wheel and breathed heavily.

“Again and again traffic would rumble forward only to come to an abrupt stop. The stink of”

exhaust was cloudy to the cab. I began looking around trying to find something to divert my attention from the miserable atmosphere. I was in the turning lane, approaching the light but still several cars away. To my right, there was a huge lifted truck to paint the shrieking red. Grinding my teeth I looked away from that abomination. To my left, across the median and the lanes of opposing traffic, there was an old convenience store that was gray with cracking concrete.

It would have been as miserable as everything else except for two things that stood out with such

vivid contrast I couldn't understand how I hadn't noticed them before. The first was an ice machine

that stood in front of the store within the shade of the tattered awning. It was blue and so deep a shade that it could have been brand new. The other was a sports car parked in the space directly in front of the ice machine. The car was the same shade of blue as the machine but it showed at every edge like a razor. The windows were tinted so dark that it was impossible to see inside and the tires were black and look more like stone than rubber to my tired eyes. The pair of blue objects did

not seem real and the sweltering glare all around them. They had the quality of a mirage that people lost in some cartoonish desert would see in a poorly written movie. I blinked several times expecting the aggravating sluggishness to overtake my senses once again. But the ice machine and sports car remained in there strained and explicable disparity from the rest of the city. Then the driver-side window of the sports car began rolling down. I held my breath.

The window rolled down so slowly at far slower than any I'd seen before. The engine sounds washed into silence. The heat withdrew from my skin. I saw in the impossibly thick darkness within that car, a face gradually began to take shape. The chill licked me in goosebumps prickled my skin. Suddenly without any thought or desire, a memory began forming in my mind. My heart padded faster and faster and the images from my boyhood began bubbling up and taking

focus. And a feeling in my gut was the same feeling I had on a specific day in a specific place and very specific moments. It was when I was six and my neighbor had no! I slammed my head back so

wander unbidden. I did not want to remember that and so I wouldn't. After a few moments I opened my eyes

“and saw that the arrow was green. Get the cars in front of me. We're not moving. I coughed and wiped”

the sheet of sweat from my forehead. I glanced back at the blue sports car but the window was closed again and even though the machine and the car still seemed out of place, their magnetism was lost. But I was very shaken and knew what had just happened to me was unnatural. I smiled to try to push that inclination away as something silly in the product of my tired overheated brain. Yet, why was I still sitting here? Waiting despite the fact that the arrow was green.

Fuck! I said to myself before hitting my car horn. The abruptly layer from my car caused

a great deal of surprise like it was waking every other driver in the turning lane from a deep sleep.

The person at the front of the line hit their gas so hard their tire squealed and the person behind me

“nearly rear ended my car. I couldn't shake this sick feeling that we'd all just been a part of”

something unfortunate and that it would stick to us for an unsettling amount of time afterwards. I gently pressed on the gas pedal barely catching the light as the arrow shifted from yellow into non-existence. The rest of the drive was quick and even though the heat did not abate, it was a relief to feel once more grounded in the present. Even the physical discomfort that had been so intolerable before was now welcome target for my agitated thoughts. I'd rather that

than recall that memory that had resurfaced just a few moments ago. Running my fingers through

the sweat thickened hair in my head, I found I was trembling and I tried to laugh but it sounded brittle. I turned the radio on. Returning to my little apartment I found the familiar darkness to be

“soothing. I took a tepid shower without turning any lights on, closing my eyes and focusing on all”

the sensations permeating my body. After a few minutes I let myself think about the ice machine and the sports car. The distance in the time that it elapsed coupled with the safety of my home drained the strangeness from the situation and I quickly allowed myself to think of it as nothing more than a result of my fatigue. As for the other drivers, maybe the heat made some of them less attentive than usual or more likely they were looking at their phones

instead of the road around them. Soon it was all even more ordinary to me than the unreasonable heat had been. I was able to make dinner and go to sleep without an ounce of perturbation. The next day was even hotter and my work was distracting enough so that I didn't think of what it happened the day before and until I was already clocked out and heading home again. As it crossed my mind there is no sense of dread, rather, I was excited and curious.

An instinct told me the car would be there again, parked exactly as before, and the ice machine obviously wouldn't look any different. It was like a game now, drained of its danger and a sweet diversion from the oven dry air that stood motionless all around. I drove easily through traffic, my eyes probing forward into the left until the convenience store came into view. I became very silent. The sports car was there in the ice machine but they weren't what's

dild me. They were so suddenly and easily forgotten. It was the sight of the woman that was stepping out of the driver's side door that caught me. She was slender. Her movement so smooth, her legs were long and her hair was black and very straight. She wore tight black jeans, blue high top sneakers, a black tank top and a pair of large, expensive, blue tinted sunglasses. I watched her, slowing my car so the arrow went from green to yellow to nothing.

Her skin was a light brown that seemed impervious to the wilting gaze of the sun. She left her car door open, looked at the ice machine for a moment, then turned and leaned back into the cab of the sports car. She moved her head so that all her shining black hair fell over her right shoulder, rather than bunch up on her back. I couldn't help but stare. She was beautiful and yet, there was something almost otherworldly in the sheer captivation she held over me.

Startled, I realized this was the same feeling I'd experienced the day before, just before that memory almost materialized without my consent. I tore my eyes away from her,

She had moved to the ice machine, her hips cocked and had tilting somewhat, a thin hand beneath

“the tiny chin. I sighed heavily, knowing already what I was going to do. I made another left turn”

and pulled slowly into the convenience store parking lot. I saw her glance over her shoulder in my direction and perhaps it was the glare that fooled me, but I thought she smiled. I checked myself in the mirror, smooth my hair, custed the dirt on my cheeks and tried to shake the contradicting emotions swirling in my chest. I was drawn to her, just as my gaze had been drawn to the car and machine the day previous, but I knew as well that something about this almost bizarre

situation had forced a recollection from my mind that might not want it. Both though undoubtedly

opposing and what emotions they elicit it from me aroused my curiosity so that it wasn't just a desire to learn more. It was a need. I stepped out of my car and walked towards the storefront.

“I approached her, trying very hard to appear casual, but my foot caught on the curb and I nearly”

went to my knees. My face and ears burned red and I heard her laugh a little. Looking up, I saw she'd halfway turned and was staring down at me. Her eyes were not visible behind those tinted glasses, but her easy smile was enough to make me stupid. "Hey," she said. Her voice was soft yet confident. "You got any cash? I thought this machine would take a card, but it doesn't. My really need some ice." I stood up straight and swallowed the lump in my throat.

I told her I thought I had a few dollars. I fumbled with my wall at the end. I felt her move closer. She was chewing gum in the mint scent, wafted from her mouth and caressed my face like a cool breeze. I found the money and offered it to her. With a pair of fingers held out like scissors, she took

“the bills, popped her gum, and whispered, "Thanks." She moved quietly back to the ice machine”

and put the cash into the slot. I looked at her again, all over, and that same strange magnetism forced me into action. I took a step closer to her and cleared my throat. "So, what do you need the ice for?" I asked, unable to think of any other way of starting a conversation. She had turned to me again, and I expected she would tilt her head slightly so her eyes could appear above the black frames of her sunglasses, but they remained hidden behind the lenses, deepening my nervousness.

She was silent for a few moments, long enough to make me feel like I'd done something wrong by not leaving her alone. Yet, when she spoke, all my misgivings faded. She told me she needed the ice to keep some drinks cool while she was at a park, she was meeting some friends there. They went there once a week apparently to talk and drink together, and it was her responsibility this week to take care of the drinks. She told me more,

but I couldn't focus. The longer she spoke, the more entranced I became. Her mannerisms, her tone, even the way the sun bounced off her soft smooth skin.

All of it was hypnotic. She seemed to be moving closer to me with every breath yet. She never

actually took a step or even so much as leaned in my direction. That was so strange. It was as if I could feel the ends of her black hair tracing over my arms, the closing and opening of her lips on mine, the gentle stroke of her fingertips in the palm of my hand. Yet she stood there as she had before. Right in front of the ice machine, only path turned in my direction. One hand on her hip, the other resting on her thigh with the unspent dollar bills hanging

loosely between her fingers. And abruptly, she laughed. I blinked and swayed feeling like I'd just woken up from a heavy nap. And I laughed too, trying not to let my unease show. "You're so quiet," she said. "Are you feeling alright?" I nodded and wiped my sweaty brow with the back of my hand, leaving more bewildering, I'd forgotten how hot it was. Now you're not, she continued. And this time, she did actually

move closer to me. "Let me get my ice and I'll make sure you get home. You don't live far, right?" I wanted to argue to tell her that I was fine, but something was compelling me to let her come to my

Then she put her hand on my elbow and the coolness of her skin was like a fresh breeze passing through me.

“I nodded and mumbled a thank you. She put the money in the machine and filled the”

tubular plastic bag with the glistening cubes. They made such a rough sound coming out of the machine, a sound that seemed so paradoxical to the sight of them, like a beautiful bird that makes a shrill cry instead of a song. I didn't linger on these thoughts long, though. She finished and made her way to her sports car quickly, as she said she would follow me. I didn't reply, I just sort of stumbled back to my car and fired the engine. I drove back to my apartment in

such a days that I could hardly recall doing it. The blue sports car pulled into the empty spot

next to me and I marveled at how unreal it still appeared. She got out of her car, cradling the bag of ice against her hip. She gave me a coil little smile, tilted her head and raised her eyebrows.

“After that, all I saw was her. I don't ever remember opening my door, entering my home,”

or sitting on my couch. She sat next to me all coolness and mint sent her movements fluid in the heavy darkness. My blackout curtains created. My air conditioning unit was already on and was so loud. I could hardly understand the sweet words that were flowing so seamlessly from between her lips. The heat-out sides seemed a part of a distant history as primeval and touchless as a dinosaur. I was swimming in a soft whirlpool of descending temperature, white noise and tactile shadows

at the center of which she moved. She reminded me of the way snow whirls on a windshield, laid at night up north on the highway. There was also strange yet any alarm I had experienced before, departed. My own movements, my own words all bubbled sluggishly from somewhere almost divorced from my own will. I could have been dreaming. I could have been dying. I could have been in love. We started to kiss her. Lips were soft and smooth and the sensation

of them reached down my throat and deep into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her. Filter hands caress me and breathed in her scent. I let myself fall deeper and deeper into her. Let everything else move far away. I even began to let my thoughts drift. From out of this gentle ecstasy from

“a source other than her lips, her voice abruptly asked. So, what did your neighbor do to you that day?”

No, I snapped back, opened my eyes wide and pushed her away. I was suddenly assaulted by the same terrible unease I had felt the day before when that memory had tried to resurface, but now the feeling was magnified. My mind scrambled from question to question, none with an answer and all I was certain of was that I was terrified. No, that wasn't all I was certain of. I was also certain that this woman, this thing, was unnatural. A natural and her voice and her movements,

a natural and her knowledge and a natural and her beauty. I had to get away from her. I stood up and realized that it was so cold that I could see my breath. I was shivering, looking everywhere except at her. I began jibbering, trying to tell her to get out without sounding hostile or scared. I felt that if I engaged with the abnormality of the situation

that it would only grow worse. She sighed. I stopped talking. Finally, I let my eyes fall on her

and despite the darkness, I could see her face like a pale moon. She was frowning with strands of midnight black hair slowly waving back and forth. She still wore the sunglasses, but the lenses looked mad and impenetrable now. The sweltering day just beyond my front door seemed like a sweet savior, and I wished I could escape back into it. But I couldn't move. Some unseen force was holding me in place. I could only tremble. I tried the soft touch yesterday, she said. Her voice

resonant, like she was speaking from the bottom of a well, I tried simply asking today, yet you still refused to indulge me. And I guess I'll just have to crack open that little trappy yours, and yank out what I want. She reached up with a hand that was not elegant and slender anymore. She took her sunglasses between multifoliet fingers and removed them from her stone-like face.

enormous things I'd seen in my life. From the depths of these abysses, a lurid twinkling began,

“like terrible stars forming. They sparkled every shade of blue, and as they grew in brightness,”

I could feel their frigid touch. I became encircled in the monstrous glow, I felt the cold white moving through me, shriveling my muscles and whithering my veins and hardening my blood. There was so much pain I thought I would die from it. My feet curled away from the floor, my body hovered suspended in the unwavering gaze. My eyelids were forced open wider and wider into my eyeballs, felt they were on the verge of jumping out of my face. Then, let's stop thinking

about it. I stopped thinking about the agony and the fear and the monstrous woman that was

tormenting me. Without my consent, all my memories began flooding out. There was no sequence,

“everything was just lumped and mashed together, screaming and smashing its way from my mind and”

out of my eyes. It all pooled like a disgusting ocean under the carpet. I saw my mother and my father blurred together and spanking me and congratulating me and kissing me and yelling at me. I saw the dog I ran over last week with my ex-wife's bittunia sprouting from its torn stomach. I saw the warehouse with my toys inside and my co-workers rearranged together as a mess of arms and faces and laughter and curses. I saw my neighbor. I saw him standing over me and his bathroom. I saw

it naked. I felt all the pain all over again. The pain I had refused to recollect. I wanted to die. Then, it was over. The light and force that had held me disappeared and I crumpled in the floor. I held my knees to my chest and sobbed. Gradually, the temperature rose and life returned to my arms and legs. The room was now stark and painfully quiet. It felt like no dream had ever been

“born there and that the only thing that presided was the unyielding hand of reality. She sighed again”

and I flinched. Having thought that she had left with a nightmare at ended. I held my breath and pretended to be dead. She laughed a little and I listened to she kneeled in front of me. She scooped something off the floor, opened her bag of ice and put whatever it was inside. Then, she stood up and walked to the door. As she opened it, I asked without meaning to what she was. Without a pause, she answered, "Well, I was curious. Now, I'm bored." She laughed without shutting the door behind her.

And finally, after a routine emergency surgery on a crash victim, a trauma surgeon discovered

something impossible inside the patient's body, setting off a chain of events to leave some questioning what might be hiding beneath the surface of seemingly ordinary people. From writer Ryan Peacock, "Cruity Presents, I used to be a trauma surgeon." I wanted to save lives. It's why I became a trauma surgeon to save people and give them a second chance or a hope of recovery. I wanted to save lives. Now, I just want to forget.

The bottom one to go, I got a call about a patient and need a virgin care. Some asshole on motorcycle had run a red light and hit a pedestrian outside a bar. The idiot on the donor cycle was dead, but pedestrian survived. He was circling the drain, but he was still alive. I got there as fast as I could in a medially-prep for surgery. The patient had suffered numerous fractures from the impact, severe internal bleeding and one hell of a concussion. I needed to

stop that bleeding and set his broken bones. I'd hate to call something like that routine, since it technically wasn't routine, but I'd dealt with that kind of thing before. The patient was sedated and waiting for me when I walked into the operating room. Just looking at him, I knew I had my work cut out for me. I could barely see his face underneath all the blood. It would be a young man in his mid-late 20s with a fairly fit physique. If we could

Some trapma from the crash of penetrated the patient's abdomen, so I started there.

“I cut gently. Only wide enough to remove the trap, no one tried to stop the bleeding.”

We took up an IV to transfuse fresh blood into him, along with something else's blood clot. So far, it seemed to be working, and I was able to get most of the trapma while before I

finally noticed something else was wrong with him. I first noticed them clinging to some of the

pieces of trapma. In first I thought they were just bits of tissue, but bits of tissue don't move like that. They don't rise like that. These were something else, something alive. Just looking at them, they almost resembled some kind of thin stringy warm. Once I noticed them, I knew I had to investigate further. Something was living inside him, and I had to find out what. The patient was more stable than he'd been when we'd started. After making sure his bleeding

was under control, I took a closer look at his trapma wounds. I've heard some surgeons use

a term cut and paste before. It's not the most common term out there, but I have heard it.

A cut and paste, also known as a peaking tree to some, is when a surgeon gets a patient down the table, opens him up and finds that there's nothing they can do. There's no saving them from

“the inevitable. The only thing you can do is stitch him back up and prepare to deliver the bad”

news to the next of kin. It's a heavy feeling, realizing you can't help the person you're standing over. The person you're supposed to save. But sometimes there truly is nothing you can do. Either their injuries are too severe or their illnesses progressed too far. As a surgeon, you learn to live with it. You don't like it, but you do the best you can and you make your peace with that. I can deal with the deaths. I can accept when I've done the best I can

to save someone and failed. But the things I saw as I explored those wounds, the things I found arriving inside the patient's guts, the things that were living inside him. Once I disturbed them,

“they started to emerge. I could see them slithering out through his wounds,”

large thin worms, most of them far longer than the ones I'd found on the pieces of

shrapnel I'd pulled from the patient. I'd never seen anything like them before,

and judging by the screams of the other doctors in the room with me, they clearly hadn't either. The worms were pouring out of him. They pushed through his wounds, and I could hear some of them clopping wetly to the floor as they rise and squirmed. All the while, the patient's broken body lay motionless on the operating table, twitching only as the worms tore through him, widening the tears in his flesh as they escaped. I didn't need to tell the other doctors

in the room to leave. They ran the moment they saw a stomach tear open, and more those worms come spilling out. As they did, all I could do was stand and watch and horror. I back toward the door. My hands trembling as the worms twisted on the ground. I looked back up at the patient on the table. His vitals indicated that he was still alive. All of this, and somehow, he was still alive. I didn't know how as medically possible.

He'd lost so much blood, and now what those worms had done to him. There was no way he could have survived it. He should have been dead. But his vitals didn't lie. I watched the patient's body twitch and froze. Part of me still felt obligated to help him. obligated to save him somehow. Although I didn't even know where to begin, assuming he could be saved. He twitched, and I saw his eyes opening. From moment I thought the anesthesia was wearing off, and he was waking up. But no.

As I soon realized, this was something else, entirely. The patient lived his head slightly, and his eyes fixated on me. I stare back at him, frozen to the spot in terror. And then, I heard the crack of his skull breaking.

under mine. Part of his head seemed to come undone, as if the skull underneath had shattered,

“and only his skin was holding it together. His eyes rolled back into his skull before he finally”

collapsed, and a moment later, I saw something crawling onto his face. Some other bug, this one I've re-white. It wasn't a worm, like the others. This thing was more like a cross between an isopod and a house centipede, with long spindly legs and a thick shell. I could feel its beady eyes on me, watching me, and I swear I could see it thinking, sizing me up, deciding if I was right for it. Then, quick as lightning, it raced toward me.

My heart skipped beat, and finally I ran, Alting through the door behind me, and slamming at

shut. I heard the isopod thing thud against the door, and at that back-to-way, I saw climbing toward the window. It seemed to stare at me for a moment before crawling toward the ceiling,

“and disappearing. Needless to say, we put the hospital in quarantine. The other doctors had”

been in the room with me, and I spent three days in isolation, giving tests repeatedly to make sure we didn't have any trace of those parasites, whatever the hell they were in our body. After that came the interviews. First to please spoke to us, then some kind of specialist,

asking us to go for the details repeatedly. We told them everything we knew, and they said they'd

be in touch if they needed us for anything. And that was it. That was one month ago. I haven't been in an operating room since. Hell, I haven't even set foot in the hospital since I got out of quarantine. I can't. I'm too afraid of finding those worms in the next patient I tried to work on. I'm too afraid of being thrust into that nightmare all over again, not understanding what was happening or why. I'm afraid of the creature I saw crawling out of the patient's skull.

The creature that only I saw, and then nobody else ever seemed to find. There was evidence of it, of course. The patient's skull had been split right open. There was almost nothing left inside. Something had clearly been living in there, feeding on his brain matter, and puppeteering his body. Whatever it was. And it's still out there.

“I think it's unlikely I'll ever get any solid answers about what I saw in that operating room.”

I've tried to do some research online, but come up with nothing. As far as I can tell, there are no documented encounters like mine. Based on my limited experience to creatures living in a patient's body, I've come up with a few theories. I suspect the thing living in the patient's head was connected to those worms somehow, farming them, maybe growing them in the body of its host, although for what purpose I couldn't even begin to speculate.

Whatever it was, there was an intelligence to it. Something about the way it looked at me after emerged from his skull. It seemed to size me up. It almost seemed to be thinking. I can't help a wonder if it's found another host, another doctor, or maybe a patient. I can't help a wonder if it's walking around in their skin right now, letting more of those bloody worms just stayed in their guts.

I can't help a wonder what it intends to do with them. And I can't help a dread what the answer might be. For more information on this podcast, including how to submit your own story for consideration, please visit CreepyPod.com. You can also follow us at CreepyPod on social media and YouTube. All stories told on this podcast are done so through creative comments

share a like licensing, or with written consent from the authors. No portion of this podcast may be re-broadcast or otherwise distributed without the express written consent of the CreepyPod cast production team and the stories author. [BLANK_AUDIO]