I Hate my Mum

By Chef Tahmizzles

//Source.

She really gets very annoying sometimes. She always screams at me and tells me to do things I don’t like doing. Yesterday, she turned off my PS4 while I was playing Fortnite!

I’ve had enough of it!

That’s why I’m leaving home. I don’t really wanna leave my big brother. He’s usually nice to me. My dad went on a business trip a couple of years ago and hasn’t come back. I’m sure I’ll see him someday, but he was nice too.

But I can’t handle my mum anymore. She’s always angry at me and yelling at me. I’m leaving! Continue reading “I Hate my Mum”

Advertisements

My Dog Speaks in my Sleep 4

By Chef JRHEvilInc/Joel R. Hunt

//Source. This is part four and the finale of a series.

I’m so tired.

Two days ago I bought some sleeping pills. Something – anything – to help me get through the night. Things can’t go on as they have been doing, these constant nightmares about Gus. I’m struggling to function properly. I’ve started calling in sick at work. I don’t trust myself to drive anymore, in case I fall asleep at the wheel. I’m just fortunate the pharmacy is in walking distance.

After my last post here I decided to make Gus an outdoor dog. I don’t know how he got in my room. I don’t know what he was doing while I was asleep. But I knew I wasn’t comfortable with him being around me while I slept anymore.

Or while I tried to sleep at least… Continue reading “My Dog Speaks in my Sleep 4”

My Dog Speaks in My Sleep 3

By Chef JRHEvilInc/Joel R. Hunt

//Source. This is part three of a series. Final part coming tomorrow.

Last night was a bad one. The most disturbing dream yet.

Not even a dream – it was a nightmare. The worst I’ve had since I was a child.

I suppose I should start with what happened during the day.

After the dream from my previous post, I went downstairs for breakfast, and one of the first things I noticed was that Gus still hadn’t touched his food. It was his third day with me, and I hadn’t seen him eat even a bite. I was worried about him. And if I’m honest, I was also a little hopeful; I started to wonder if my dreams about Gus were just a subconscious expression of my concern about him not eating. Kind of like getting nightmares before sitting an exam. It was an odd hope, sure, but it would mean there was nothing more bizarre at play. And it would mean that once he started eating again, the dreams should stop.

So I called up the shelter I’d rescued Gus from, and they put me in touch with a local vet. I took Gus in (he was still completely obedient, following me whenever I left the house without needing to be told) and let them know that he wasn’t eating. Initially they were concerned as well, but after a series of tests, they determined that he was perfectly healthy. It simply wasn’t possible that he hadn’t eaten or drank anything in days, they told me. He must have been getting food from elsewhere. Continue reading “My Dog Speaks in My Sleep 3”

My Dog Speaks in my Sleep 2

By Chef JRHEvilInc/Joel R. Hunt

//Source. This is part two of a series. Part three coming tomorrow.

I dreamt of Gus again last night.

The day had been mostly uneventful. I’d managed to shake the unsettling feeling of my first dream, and spent a while trying to get Gus to eat something. He just didn’t seem interested. I thought a walk might help, get him hungry through exercise. It also gave me a chance to go through the dream in my head, or at least what I remembered of it, and try to work out what aspect of it had got me worked up. My dreams weren’t usually so vivid. Continue reading “My Dog Speaks in my Sleep 2”

My Dog Speaks in my Sleep

By Chef JRHEvilInc/Joel R. Hunt

//Source. This is part one of a series. Part two coming tomorrow.

Yesterday I got a new dog.

Well, an old dog, really. I rescued him from a shelter. I’d like to pretend I’m one of those Jane Goodall ‘do anything for the animals’ types, but if I’m honest, I was looking to adopt more for my own benefit than for the dog’s.

The thing is, I’ve been ill. For quite a long time, actually. Physically I’m fine (maybe a tad on the weighty side), but in my head… well, my doctor called it ‘suffering acute psychological trauma’. Or in the words of the gentleman at the bus station last week, ‘being a full on nut-case’. I’ve always had a few issues, I think most people have, but it reached new depths when my dad died a few months ago.

It was suicide. I’d really rather not go into it. Continue reading “My Dog Speaks in my Sleep”

There are People Outside my Windows: Complete Edition

By Chef Nickbotic

//Source.

//This series contains several references to “you guys” and your “comments,” from its original run on nosleep. Much of this theme has been removed to better fit papaslenders. The Complete Edition also trims a bit off the endings to flow better as one read.

This started with my child. She was the first to see them. I feel bad for her; she was the first one to experience the terror my wife and I would soon feel for ourselves. It began about a week ago, and I don’t know what to do.

Me, my wife Kimmy, and our 6-year-old daughter Anna live in a modest 4 bedroom house, in a place where we are victim to semi-regular blackouts. Only lasting for a minute or two most of the time, they are more of a minor inconvenience than a true problem. We’ve been dealing with them for close to three years now, and have learned to live with them. On the plus side, being subject to somewhat frequent power outages has afforded us a relatively cheap mortgage. But that’s neither here nor there. As I said, this began about a week ago. Anna came into our bedroom at about 1:30 in the morning and nudged me awake. I had to look at my phone to see the time, because the clock on my nightstand read a steadily blinking 12:00. We must have had a blackout.

“What’s wrong sweetie?” I asked, my comforting tone thankfully overpowering the irritation in my voice due to being woken up.

“There’s a man outside and he won’t stop looking in my window.” Continue reading “There are People Outside my Windows: Complete Edition”

There are People Outside my Windows – Part 5

By Chef Nickbotic

//Source.

//Original Title “There are people outside my windows during blackouts – Part 5” Changed for brevity.

Well, my family and I spent the day at home, and it was ultimately an extremely boring day. Father John and Paul were out doing their research while we essentially sat in silence all day. We had been advised to use as little electronics as possible, so that took out any kind of entertainment we had, save for board games, which to be honest, we’ve become too accustomed to technology to have that entertain us for any real length of time. Continue reading “There are People Outside my Windows – Part 5”

There are People Outside my Windows – Part 4

By Chef Nickbotic

//Source.

//Original Title “There are people outside my windows during blackouts – Part 4” Changed for brevity.

Last night, a paranormal researcher came to stay with me at the hotel I was at, and much to my surprise, he brought a priest with him. I chose to get a first floor room, since I knew that being on a different floor didn’t hinder the smilers from getting to me. I kept in constant contact with my wife, who, as you’ll soon find out, didn’t stay at her parents house for the night. Continue reading “There are People Outside my Windows – Part 4”

There are People Outside my Windows – Part 3

By Chef Nickbotic

//Source.

//Original Title “There are people outside my windows during blackouts – Part 3” Changed for brevity.

I suppose I was a bit cryptic last night when I said we’d been on the road. I think I let myself get psyched out by thinking we could be tracked, so I didn’t give out where we were going. About 3 hours after I posted last night, we made it to my in-laws cabin. It is located within the woods, and although that may sound foolish, I thought it to be a good place to go because there are four generators there. We stopped again at a Walmart and stocked up on food, flashlights (although I now know they don’t affect the smilers), water, other random supplies, and I bought two large hunting knives; knives don’t run out of bullets. We didn’t pass anywhere that sold ammunition otherwise I would’ve stopped and gotten as much as I could carry. Continue reading “There are People Outside my Windows – Part 3”

My Girlfriend’s Cheating on Me with a Twin That Doesn’t Exist

By Chef Manen_Lyset

I never wanted to be “that guy”. You know, the controlling, overbearing, and crazy jealous dude who always worries his girl’s going to cheat on him? You see them on talk shows admitting to installing tracking software on their girlfriends’ phones, following them around town, and isolating them from their friends and families. I didn’t think I had it in me: I’m a nice, normal guy. Shana; however, brought out a bad side of me. I don’t know what it was about her. She was special. She was the love of my life, and I could see myself settling down with her. At the same time, I was so paranoid that she’d cheat and leave me, that I took…drastic measures. To put it simply, I invented a twin brother, and I had him seduce her. I mean, if she was going to cheat on me, it might as well be with me, right?

Shana and I met at a pub about half a year ago. When I saw her across the room, I swear I could almost hear a choir of angels singing above her. A pick-up line at the ready, I shyly walked over to introduce myself. Her smile temporarily made me forget how to speak, and I barely managed to produce a squawking sound. She laughed lightly, making my anxiety wash away like chalk in the rain. We talked for a bit, exchanged numbers, and eventually went on a few dates. Shana was perfect: sexy, sweet, loving, ambitious, and spunky.

It wasn’t long before Shana moved in with me. I think that’s when things started taking a turn for the worst. It was fine for the first couple of days, until I started noticing her flirting with other men behind my back, and coming home late almost every night. Every time she allegedly had to work late, I was left pacing up and down our apartment, imagining her canoodling some scumbag. I sometimes drove by her work, but I never had the balls to go in and confirm my suspicions.

Eventually, I decided to sit Shana down and have a long, serious talk. And by that, I mean I fabricated an elaborate lie. I told her about my twin brother, Eric. Naturally she wanted to know why I hadn’t told her about him before. Faking tears, I explained that he’d been in and out of jail. She seemed to like bad boys, so I knew that’d spark her interest. I told her a sob story about how my mom had cut him out of our family photos, how everyone thought he was a bad egg, and how I wanted to protect her from him. She consoled me, but I could see a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. My trap was set.

One night, I put on a leather jacket, applied hair gel, and went out searching for Shana. I “coincidentally” bumped into her at the park where she liked to jog. I puffed my chest out proudly, taking on Eric’s confident stance, and half-heartedly apologized for ramming into her. Using a slightly deeper voice and different mannerisms, I acted as though we had never met. She lit up, immediately guessing that I was my made-up twin brother. She seemed to like how bold and fearless Eric was, so I put the moves on her right then and there. She fell head over heels for me. With that, she and ‘Eric’ started dating in secret.

Eric was the kind of guy that I had always wanted to be: slick, smooth, and assertive. He was an adrenaline junkie, and never afraid to speak his mind. He wore clothes I’d never be caught dead in: plenty of leather, tight t-shirts, rocker bracelets. He was a living, breathing stereotype, and playing his role made me feel alive. I was a quiet guy who liked to stay at home and read, but he liked to party and do crazy shit.

I discovered a new side of Shana thanks to Eric, and fell in love with her all over again. It was funny to see how different our regular dates were compared to the ones with Eric. Shana was more adventurous and exciting than I could have ever imagined. As Eric, we did awesome stuff together: we went skydiving, we rented motorcycles, we went to concerts, and we tried a bunch of kinky stuff in bed.

Knowing I was satisfying both Shana’s sense of adventure, and her quieter, intellectual side, I was finally able to let go of my worries and paranoia. I had Shana all to myself, and it was fantastic. Life was great, and I bought a ring so I could propose to her on our anniversary this weekend. She’d probably break things off with Eric once we got engaged, so I made a commitment to myself to try and be a little more like Eric from now on.

Last night, all my plans went up in smoke. Shana was working late, but she and Eric didn’t have a date scheduled, so I assumed she was actually working for once. It was nice out, so I decided to pass the time by taking a nice little stroll around town. As I walked by the large windows of a quaint Italian restaurant, my world came crashing down around me: Shana was playing tonsil-hockey with another man. I watched from the street as the dark-haired stranger ran his hands up and down her back. A mix of despair and anger twirled around in my gut. Had I not been enough for her? Had Eric not been enough?! I had given her everything she could have wanted. What she couldn’t do with me, she did with Eric. There was no reason for her to go outside our relationships. I had invested so much time, and STILL she was cheating on me. But that wasn’t even the most disturbing part…

The man’s eyes turned towards me as he was making out with my girl. Shana, who had her back to the window, was obscuring his face. Very slowly, he pulled away from my woman, and tilted his head towards me. A devious smirk stretched over his lips as he looked towards me. His cold and amused eyes were proclaiming victory over me. I felt my knees buckle at the incomprehensible sight before me: it was Eric.