Nightmare Fuel #28: He'll Make You Whole
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Today, the beverage aisle looks a lot different than it used to. America's beverage companies are working together. We're delivering the options everyone wants. In fact, nearly 60% of beverages Americans buy have zero sugar. You'll find more variety than ever, including more of your favorites, now available with zero sugar. You'll also find more sizes and clear calorie information on the front of every can, bottle, and pack.

We know when it comes to finding balance, the more choices, the better. Welcome to another edition of Nightmare Fuel Creeps and Peepers. I'm Dan Cummins, and I will be sharing another original short story of the fictional horror variety. I can't wait to hear what some of you think of this one.

I highly recommend noise cancellation headphones for the best experience. Hope you enjoy this new nightmare. Time now for the tale of He'll Make You Whole. Shaky footage from a slightly used Panasonic Omnimovie VHS PV420 camcorder, shot only a few weeks before in early October of 1989, filled the small TV screen in the back office of Yusuf Baroudi's Double Diamond Pawn Shoppe.

Yusuf, the owner-proprietor, had given a teenager 50 bucks for it about a half an hour earlier. This kid and his friend had come in just before he closed for the night. This model cost $499 new, and it had only come out about six months earlier. Yusuf figured he could easily sell it for 200 bucks, maybe even 250, once he added a charger and a case. The teen had neither, nor any of the other accessories that came with it, because he probably stole it.

Whether or not he did wasn't any of Yousef's business. If he refused to buy anything that might be stolen, he would have never lasted over two decades and counting in the pawn business. The battery was dead, but he had a compatible charger. He also had a power cord and an AV cable to hook it up to his TV for playback. He'd made sure that it had worked before he paid for it, using the tape that was already in it to record 10 or so seconds of new footage.

and when he'd rewound that footage to watch it and test the playback feature, he'd went back past the point of where he had began recording, and he saw what looked like the inside of some abandoned building that had become a party spot for teenagers, based on the graffiti on the walls, and the empty beer bottles and candy wrappers on the floor. The recording was strange, eerie even. The camera was lying on the floor. He couldn't hear anyone nearby talking.

but he could hear someone who sounded like they were humming the melody to Itsy Bitsy Spider. The whole scene, the little bit he saw of it, creeped him out and also made him curious about what had led up to that moment on tape. And so before he headed home for the night, he decided to rewind the tape to the very beginning and watch at least a few minutes. You sure it's on? A tall, thin young man asked whoever was pointing the camera at him.

Yusuf estimated the man to be in his early 20s, and it appeared as if he was standing in front of the abandoned Mount Lissa Insane Asylum, which was less than five miles from Yusuf's pawn shop, just a mile or two past the edge of town. The man he was looking at was Henry Walton, a 22-year-old local boy who'd moved away to the city three years earlier to go to film school. If Yusuf paid more attention to the local news...

He'd know that he had been reported missing a few weeks earlier, along with the woman filming him. Yeah, it says it's recording, Justine answered. Operating the camera was Henry's film school classmate, 21-year-old Justine Lavenza, who grew up in a neighboring town. Oh, yeah, okay, now I see the light, Henry confirmed before he asked. And the audio levels, they look good?

Yeah, I certainly didn't change any of the settings since we ran our tests, Justine answered, sounding slightly annoyed. Henry was seemingly oblivious to how irritating his micromanagement was. Okay, great. And the battery level is... He started before Justine snapped and interrupted him. Yes, Henry, my God, everything is good. We literally just checked it all less than an hour ago. I'm not an idiot.

Come on, man. Stop wasting the battery and just tell the story. Sorry, sorry. Okay, okay, you're right. A now apologetic Henry stammered. I just want, you know, I really want to get this right. I truly think this could be huge for us. We could get featured on Unsolved Mysteries or on the new show for Fox my cousin is helping produce. Or if it goes really well, sell the rights to what we see for a movie adaptation. Don't overthink it.

Justine reminded him The camera now bouncing around and leaving Henry out of frame as she spoke Just like he said earlier If we get really lucky and record something supernatural It won't matter if the words or the shot aren't perfect It'll be better More authentic To look raw and unrehearsed Gritty and real is what we're after, right? More believable that way? Yes, yes, you're totally right Henry agreed Before he shook his arms out a bit And twisted his neck back and forth To loosen up and shake off some anxiety

And if we do end up using this to try and shop it as some kind of based on a true story screenplay, Justine continued, it still won't need to look perfect. The footage will just be a tool to help sell the project. I know, I know, Henry said, obviously still a bit nervous. But just to help me with the editing later, can you, after you make sure we're on and recording, can you say, ready, wait for me, to nod, and then say, action? Action.

Justine started to laugh a bit from behind the camera, but then quickly cut herself off. Once she could tell Henry was getting embarrassed. You got it, she agreed. And then she asked, as she reframed Henry in the center of the shot, you good to start or do you need a minute? Henry nodded and said, I'm good. While he also gave a thumbs up. Ready, she asked. And then when he nodded again, she called out, action.

"'Behind me,' Henry stated a bit rigidly after a moment, as he twisted his body around and gestured behind him towards a massive, clearly breathtaking, when it was first built, but now foreboding building being painted by the last rays of a setting sun, before turning his shoulders around to once again squarely face the camera before he resumed speaking, stands the ruins of the former Mount Lyssa Insane Asylum, which, after being in operation for nearly a century, beginning in 1872,'

has sat abandoned for over 27 years, since 1962, following a devastating fire in the basement that officially, according to police reports and media coverage at the time, claimed the lives of four staff members, six patients, and the chief psychiatrist and medical superintendent who ran the institution for over 30 years, Dr. Johan Galvani. Henry now turned and started walking towards the facility.

as Justine followed him with the camcorder, capturing everything in all its lo-fi, grainy, early-home VHS recorder glory. Henry soon began speaking again, turning around to partially face the camera, as he slowly walked backwards along what used to be the asylum's semi-circular paved driveway towards the main entrance. The red-tiled, pyramidal roof of the main administration building could be seen towering above a scattering of no longer carefully manicured pines.

The main complex, designed in the Kirkbride linear plan style, stretched out on either side of the tower, far enough to not be in frame. An architectural wonder, worked in brick and stone, the three-story central administration building featured cream-colored brick and sandstone trim, single and paired windows with flat, segmental and round-arched heads within hood moldings and gibb surrounds.

a dental cornice and hipped roof with fully pedimented gables at southwest and northeast pavilions. In the middle sat an eight-story square Romanesque tower flanked by four-story octagonal corner towers. It was striking, truly, incredibly architecturally impressive. The upper floors of the central tower had slit windows with an arched licenies and a corbel cornice capped by a steeply pitched sprocketed pyramidal roof.

Pendant cornices, mock balustrades, and octagonal pyramids capped the corner towers. Spanish clay tile adorned the roof. Judging out from the center administration building were brick three-story dormitory wings with finished dormered attics and raised basements extending into a giant U-shaped configuration for approximately 1,600 feet in either direction. The east and west wings were clearly mirror images of one another.

And everything was designed in a style combining chateau-esque, beau-arts classical, and Romanesque revival elements. The entire complex had over 550,000 square feet of interior space. Far too much space. And a space too beautifully designed to just sit empty for nearly three decades. And yet, that was exactly the fate that had befallen it.

Despite on paper what should have been a sight of beauty and grandeur that elicited feelings of wonder and awe, the massive complex radiated only sadness and fear, especially as the sun set beyond the west wing. The official story, Henry proclaimed as he continued to walk towards the main building, is that the fire was started by some faulty wiring, but we don't believe that to be true. The lore feels more honest in this case.

The urban legend that began to spread over 20 years earlier was that the fire was started by a mysterious patient for which no records exist. Victor Shelley, also known as the Monster of Mount Lyssa, a monster many only know by the song that has accompanied his legend for years. Henry now began to lightly sing as he continued walking. Monster of Lyssa, I'll make you scream and shout.

He'll hack off your arms and tear your insides out. Nothing you can say will end all the pain. Only when you are dead will he make you whole again. Victor Shelley will make you scream and shout. He'll tear off your legs and scoop your eyeballs out.

Beg all you want, it won't matter, he's insane Only when you are dead will he make you whole again After his song was over, Henry turned, stopped and spoke directly into the camera before he turned to resume walking again. Disturbing, right? Despite no records existing of Victor ever being a patient at Mount Lyssa, numerous former patients and staff claimed to have encountered him before the facility was shut down.

And yet, strangely, none of them seem to remember him ever arriving at the mental hospital. And from what we can tell, there are no records of anyone with his name fitting his description and being born around when he would have been born ever being a patient of this or any other institution in the area. In fact, there are no records of this person existing at all, anywhere. And yet one day, he was just here,

He was supposedly only ever encountered in the basement, near a rumored secret lab of Dr. Galvani. And it would certainly make sense for this doctor, this mad scientist, to have a secret lab. Dr. Galvani was known to be a cold, cruel man who cared far more about his research into new treatments than he did about any of the patients he was treating.

There are credible rumors that he killed- Oh my god! Justine suddenly exclaimed from behind the camera. As Henry spun around to try and see what she saw and yelled, What? What are you looking at? Justine maxed out the manual zoom as she attempted to capture something in one of the main building's lower basement windows. But she couldn't focus the lens in time to record what she thought she saw. Shit! She yelled as the heavy handheld camera now bounced around wildly.

"'Sorry,' you then hear her say. "'I thought I saw someone looking out at us from one of those windows.' "'Seriously?' Henry asked, sounding both excited and scared. "'What did they look like?' "'I don't know,' Justine replied. "'Just a... a guy. I... I think? "'It happened so fast. I don't know. "'Now I'm not even positive I saw anyone.'

"'Let's rewind the tape!' Henry exclaimed. "'Holy shit! I thought we might hear something spooky, maybe capture some ghostly shadows or an orb of light. But what if we just captured Victor on camera?' "'Like I said, I'm not even sure I saw anyone,' Justine said somewhat dismissively. "'And I thought you and I agreed that there was no way Victor was still alive, if he was ever real to begin with.' "'I know, I know,' Henry mumbled off-frame. Justine was still recording, but the camera was now pointed down at the ground.'

But when it comes to the paranormal, anything's possible, right? He asked. Yeah, I guess, Justine reluctantly agreed. But I highly doubt it. If I actually thought there was a possibility that some monstrous murderer was inside this place, no way I'm here right now with you today. Fair, said Henry after a moment. For the record, if he is real and somehow still here, I don't think he'd actually be a monster. Just some sad, mentally ill hermit.

who's had a bunch of crazy stories made up about him. I don't think he'd be anyone we'd have to be afraid of. He'd probably be more afraid of us. Yeah, let's hope. Justine sighed before lifting the camera back up and framing Henry again while she added, we better get back to it. We're losing daylight and need to finish shooting your speech soon before the light changes and we lose continuity. It's not a speech. Henry protested, sounding a bit hurt. You make me sound so boring. Come on, that's not what I meant. Justine said.

Presentation? Is that better? I don't know what else to call it. Sorry, Henry apologized. I don't know why I got so sensitive all of a sudden. You're right, we're losing daylight. And more importantly, we're losing battery. I can pick up right where I left off. And we can just come out of an edit of us zooming in on what you might have seen in that window. Yusef now pressed pause at the pawn shop. He hadn't thought he was going to watch for so long. But now, he thought he might end up watching the whole thing. He was hooked.

He wanted to find out if they actually got footage of a ghost or something. After he called his wife and told her to go ahead and have dinner without him, he lied and said he'd had some big sales right before closing and needed to inventory them before cashing out his register. He rewound the footage to right before Justine had yelled. He played the next several seconds of tape back five or six times before he was able to pause it exactly when she'd thought she'd seen something. But no dice.

A small white bar ran across the frame and completely obscured the basement windows. Damn it. He was especially frustrated because he thought he'd seen something too. A shadowy human shape appearing in the window right before leaving the edge of the camera's frame. But due to how far away from the camera it was and the camera's resolution and the low light being so poor, just like Justine, he wasn't 100% sure he'd seen anything. Nevertheless, it gave him the willies.

After feeling satisfied that he'd seen all that he was going to see, Yousef let the tape keep playing past the point of where he had already watched. Henry returned to his speech as he and Justine continued to walk towards the main entrance. There are credible rumors that Dr. Galvani killed a great number of patients over the years through reckless, aggressive electroshock therapy and lobotomies. And there are somewhat less credible rumors that

that he performed sadistic, painful, illegal, and completely unnecessary medical experiments on his patients that sound more like something you'd find in the annals of Nazi Germany than anything you'd expect to have happened in the United States, like full limb and organ swaps.

really disturbing stuff, like removing the eyes from one patient and inserting them into another patient's empty sockets, and then replacing the first patient's eyes with the eyes of the second. He supposedly even attempted brain swaps. But the most disturbing rumors revolve around an alleged obsession Dr. Galvani had with conquering death.

According to these rumors, he'd experimented with trying to bring patients back to life after he'd intentionally drowned, poisoned, or electrocuted them. Many of Dr. Galvani's patients suffered greatly, needlessly, but none were said to have suffered more than Victor Shelley. Henry turned around after saying Victor's name and dramatically walked on towards the main entrance. As Justine stopped and held the camera as steady as possible,

Zooming out as far as the camera allowed, as Henry strode past the central brick towers of the main building, then rounded a corner and exited out of the frame. After a few beats, he popped back around the corner and excitedly cried out, Did we get it? Got it! Justine answered right before she turned off the camera. Oh my God! Now it was Yusuf who cried out.

He quickly rewound the tape almost ten seconds back, pushed play, and then leaned forward, getting as close to the TV as he could before his eyes began to unfocus. "'Ah!' he yelled out again and instinctively clutched his chest. Chills covered his entire body. "'She didn't see him,' he muttered breathlessly. "'Oh my God, she didn't see him.' But Yusuf did. He saw a large man with a slightly misshapen face, mostly obscured by the shadows of the dark basement he was inside."

Yusuf clearly watched him step forward and look out of one of the basement windows before Justine turned off the camera. He was clearly staring directly at her, and he was absolutely terrifying. After walking over to where he kept a hidden stash of top-shelf single malt scotch under the counter behind his register and pouring himself two fingers of 18-year-old Macallan, Yusuf swigged down nearly half of it immediately and then sat back down in front of the TV,

"'placed his glass on the cluttered desk in front of him and pushed play. "'He was definitely watching this tape to the bitter end now. "'In front of the entrance, Justine began filming the end "'of Henry's telling of the legend of Victor Shelley. "'Those who claim to have seen the monster of Mount Lyssa,' he said solemnly, "'and what was now a waist-up shot with only part of the steel double doors "'and frame behind him, say his body and face were covered in thick, terrible scars.'

that it looked as though he had been torn apart in a number of different ways, and then crudely sewn back together. His eyes also didn't match, as if one or even both of them were not the eyes he had been born with, as if he had been the lone survivor of one of Dr. Galvani's transplant experiments. Even more peculiar, the color of his skin was said to be strangely uneven, the pigment much darker or lighter in some areas than in others.

as if not all of his skin had come from his body, or from the same body, and it was reported that he was particularly unstable, enough so that he stood out amongst the other patients at an asylum housing people with the most severe mental illnesses known to man. He was prone to exceptionally violent mood swings, confused but calm one moment, and then flying into an uncontrollable and dangerous rage the next.

and even while restrained, he still was said to exude a strangely powerful feeling of terror. Hardened orderlies and nurses who were normally unflappable, veteran staff members who had worked with and grown accustomed to treating patients capable of murderous violence, patients who had in fact committed acts of extreme violence, even they wanted nothing to do with Victor, and none of them supposedly ever did work directly with Victor.

He was strictly under the care of only Dr. Galvani, who was said to have referred to him several times as the culmination of my life's work in the days before the doctor died. And those days were the only times any staff ever claimed to have seen him. Very, very soon after he had arrived, it was all over. Less than a week after he was first spotted, perhaps only a day or two, a fire burned through the basement.

And according to the legend of the monster of Mount Lyssa, Victor started that fire after he brutally killed nearly everyone who came into contact with him on the last night of the asylum's operation. And he didn't just kill them, Henry said as he stepped a bit closer to the camera for added dramatic effect. He tore them apart. He cut and ripped off his victim's arms and legs. He decapitated them. And he started with Dr. Galvani.

And then, after Victor was done, according to his legend, he grotesquely sewed and glued some of them back together before trying to reanimate them using a special machine in the doctor's secret lab. After failing over and over, Victor went berserk and poured gasoline that had been stored for the building's generator all over the bodies and lit them on fire. But, Henry said as he raised his finger for emphasis, that was not the end of Victor's story. It was just the beginning.

Over a dozen people who have dared to enter this building in the years since, Henry continued, as he twisted around and slapped the door a few times for emphasis, have gone missing. And many think they've been murdered. Murdered by the monster of Mount Lyssa. And not only killed by Victor Shelley, but torn apart. Torn apart and then sewn back together. Why would he do that? No one seems to know.

Perhaps he wanted them to look like he does. Perhaps he wanted to reanimate them somehow, to have a companion, another monster just like him, another creature to haunt the former Mount Lyssa Insane Asylum, a building also said to be haunted by the ghosts of many of the patients who were tortured and murdered inside these once beautiful buildings, and perhaps even haunted by the ghost of Dr. Johan Galvani, the mad doctor himself.

How was that? Henry asked after staring dramatically into the camera for a few seconds after finishing his introduction to their ghost hunt. He looked superbly proud of himself as he did a little fist pump celebration. I nailed it, right? That was perfect. Well done, Henry. Justine could be heard saying as the camera panned down towards the ground right before she turned it off. Yusef pressed pause, finished his drink, and got up to go use the bathroom.

His least favorite part about drinking once he'd entered his 50s was how it seemed to almost immediately unseal his bladder. Within 10 minutes after he'd begun to sip his scotch or drink a beer, it felt like any liquid he put into his mouth ran straight through him. After finishing taking a piss in a dirty toilet in the small, dingy bathroom that his wife was always asking him to clean, Yusuf nearly had a heart attack. While he was washing his hands out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a man. No, not a man.

but the same man from the video, peeking in at him to the small window that he always left cracked open to help ventilate the bathroom. He'd never worried about anyone crawling through it because it wasn't big enough. The hair on the back of his neck now stood up. But then, when he spun around and looked directly at the window, no one was there. Yusuf started to laugh nervously. "'What are you doing, old man?' he asked himself. "'Still getting scared of boogeymen and monsters at your age. Come on, don't be so silly.'

He shook his head, walked back over to his secret bottle of scotch, poured himself another two fingers, sat back down in front of the TV in his office, and after taking a cautionary glance back towards the bathroom and feeling satisfied that no one was, in fact, standing outside the window, he pushed play again. Once inside and recording, everything Justine was filming was made extra creepy due to the lack of light.

The sun had now almost completely set, and a little bit of fading daylight coming into the large windows, plus the light from the camera itself, were all that illuminated Henry as the camera swung around to and fro, sometimes centering on him, other times leaving him entirely out of frame as Justine scanned her new surroundings. Shallow clay tile arches spanned across the ceiling between I-beams supported by cast iron columns in the large lobby.

She and Henry talked about how relieved they both were to find that the lock on the front door had been broken just like they'd heard, and they hadn't needed to go around to the back of the building, where you could supposedly crawl in through some broken basement windows. The condition of the interior was much better than they'd expected. Even the terrazzo flooring was still in remarkably good condition.

The plaster on the walls and ceiling was holding up surprisingly well. A few big chunks had fallen out here and there, but overall, it looked like it could still be the room of a functioning treatment center. The main stairwell to the upper levels, with stone stairs, decorative wrought iron balusters, and what looked like maple railings, also looked far better than they'd anticipated. There wasn't even any noticeable vandalism inside the main lobby outside of some graffiti.

A few spray-painted messages had been added to each of the walls, sharing phrases such as, "'Victor lives!' "'Victor never died!' "'Beware the monster of Mount Lyssa!' The most disturbing message of them all was, "'Only when you are gone will he make you whole again.' "'You ready to start filming?' Henry asked. "'Good to go,' Justine answered. "'I was honestly expecting to see a lot worse in here.' "'Me too,' Henry said, sounding disappointed.'

"'Hopefully some of the rooms will be in far worse condition than this. "'Ideally, they'll be full of creepy children's dolls, "'bloody medical tools, old beds and tables "'where people were once tied down and given lobotomies, "'you know, that kind of stuff. "'Yeah, yeah, I guess that is what we're after. "'But do you feel that?' Justine asked, "'dropping the volume of her voice just a bit "'and sounding a little trepidatious. "'Feel what?' Henry responded casually. "'Like, I don't know, like we're not alone.'

Or like someone or, I don't know, the building itself knows we're here? Henry spun around. Honestly? He said before taking a contemplative pause and then continuing. I don't feel anything. I wish I did. I'm jealous. The scarier this gets, the better our chances of being able to sell this footage. Yeah, I know. You're right. It's supposed to be really scary. Justine responded after a concerned and stressed exhale.

All your talk about the lore of this place probably just got my imagination going. Good! Henry exclaimed happily, smiling widely. That's exactly what I want to hear. If it scared you, it's probably going to scare whoever watches it, too. Awesome. Let's start the tour. Justine then framed Henry, zoomed in a bit, and waited. Henry stared silently at her for a few seconds before asking, Aren't you going to say it? Say what? Oh, right, sorry. Justine remembered. Ready? She asked.

Henry then nodded and she said, action. After taking a beat to compose himself, Henry fell back into ghost hunter slash paranormal tour guide mode. This room might not look so disturbing. He began as he started to walk down a short hallway that led past the reception desk, which would make sense. No patients would have been tormented here. The doctor and staff would have been on their best public facing behavior.

and Victor Shelley may have never set foot in this room, at least not before the fire. He opened the door to the hallway, relieved again that it was unlocked as advertised, and held it open for Justine to walk through while she still filmed, before he started walking in front of her again. There should be a large hallway to both the left and the right coming up just ahead, he announced, and each should be lined with dozens of doors where patients lived and sometimes died there.

For the facility's nine decades of operation. More graffiti adorned the walls of the hallways. But other than that, again, there were no signs of real damage. And here we are, Henry declared, suddenly stopping and gesturing to first his left and then his right. At the crossroads, he continued. Check out how long these hallways are. Justine walked forward until she was a few feet in front of Henry and then scanned to the left and then the right. What do you think? Henry asked her.

Oh, Jesus, she uttered nervously. This is so creepy. And it was. There were very few windows or open doors letting any light into the two hallways, and it was now nearly dark out. The camcorder's light wasn't nearly powerful enough to illuminate the very end of the hallways, so they just faded into total darkness, giving the illusion that the end could be miles away, or that there might not be an end at all.

"'Where to next?' Justine asked. You could hear a bit of fear and hesitation in her voice. "'According to the old schematics I looked over,' Henry answered, "'there's an entrance to the basement about halfway down either tunnel. So how about you choose? Left or right? We can explore some of the old patient rooms as we make our way to the stairs.'" The camera now panned again over to the left hallway, and then back to the right. Before returning to film Henry, Justine hesitated.

and then zoomed out as far as she could down the tunnel to the right. What is it? Henry asked. Probably nothing, Justine said nervously, after continuing to look down the hallway for a few more seconds. Yusuf leaned forward again in the present as he continued to watch from the pawn shop, putting his face about a foot from the TV, seeing if he could detect anything strange or ominous. But just like Justine, he saw nothing. This hallway's creeping me out a bit more than I care for, Justine continued. I want to head down the other one.

"'Justine!' Henry exclaimed. "'Creepy is good! Creepy is exactly what we want. We should go check it out, see what might be making your spidey senses tingle.' He smiled. "'No.' Justine shot back firmly. She was continuing to get more rattled. "'I want to go down the other hallway, Henry,' she stated defiantly. The camera caught Henry exchanging a, "'You okay? Look with her.' Then his smile left his face, and he nodded seriously before he continued. "'Okay.'

I did say you got to pick. Let's head down the other hallway. Justine followed about 10 feet behind him once he'd started walking again, and she would now spin around and briefly, nervously, film behind herself every five or six seconds. Oh! Yusuf let out a stifled scream before blurting out, She missed him again! He quickly rewound the tape back about 10 seconds before pushing play and then hovering his finger above the pause button. There! He gasped as he pushed it. This time, no white lines covered up what he was trying to see.

and he saw him the same slightly misshapen face from before from the basement window he was peeking his head around the corner now from the hallway that led back to the lobby he was standing right where justine and henry had been less than a minute earlier justine must have been so focused on looking further down the hall that she missed him or she had taken her eye off the viewfinder when she began to spin back around the man was tall at least six foot yusuf guessed

scattered tufts of wild dark hair shot up and out from his head at varying angles, as if he'd cut his hair himself, quickly, and didn't even bother using a mirror to do so. And his eyes looked very sunken in and dark. Yusuf couldn't tell if that was just because of the shadows cast in the very low light, or if his eyes really were nearly black like that. He took another long drink. "'Lord,' he said, "'I do not have a good feeling about this.' And he pushed play again."

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Thank you for hearing out our sponsors. And now let's return to the found footage, or I guess stolen and then bought footage, that Yusuf watches of Henry and Justine's exploration of the abandoned Mount Lissa insane asylum. A few moments later, Henry took a small flashlight out of his pocket, turned it on, opened up one of the doors that lined the hallway, walked in, and a second or two later, just before Justine made it to the doorway, shouted,

Whoa! Justine, check this out! She quickly walked inside the room with her camera and followed his flashlight to where it illuminated the wall above a small bed. It looked like a big bloodstain. Is that? She started to ask. Yeah, I think so. Henry interrupted her and answered, I think it's blood. Justine shivered. I don't like that at all. Then she swung the camera and the light attached to it around to light up the opposite wall, and she let out a little scream.

In what also looked like blood, someone had written, Only when you are dead will he make you whole again. Henry quietly sang two lines of the creepy monster of Mount Lyssa song as he walked over with his flashlight and inspected the wall. Nothing you can say will stop all the pain. Only when you are dead will he make you whole again.

He touched some of the potential blood, brought his fingers to his nose, sniffed, and let out a little gasp. What is it? Justine asked, startled. It's definitely blood, he said. I don't know if it's animal blood, if that smells the same or different than human blood, but this smells exactly like what I've smelled any time I've ever had a nosebleed. Come check it out.

Justine left the camera running as she dropped it down to her side and held it with one hand while she used her other hand to, presumably, touch the writing and smell for herself.

Yusuf screamed and cried out, Holy Mother of God! As he jumped up from his chair and backed away from the TV, as if what he was looking at on screen could reach out and grab him if he stayed too close. It was the man again. He couldn't see his face this time, but he knew it was Victor Shelley. When Justine had lowered the camera, it had pointed back behind she and Henry and captured someone who had to be Victor standing in the darkness. He

He was framed from just below his knees to the bottom of his chest. He was wearing dirty white linen drawstring pants and an even dirtier white cotton t-shirt with several holes in it. His arms hung limply down by his sides and his right arm was noticeably bigger than his left and quite muscular. It was covered in black hair and the skin was dark brown. The left arm was pale, nearly hairless and covered in scars. It didn't look at all like the two arms were part of the same body.

After just a second or two, he quietly moved out of the doorframe, headed in the opposite direction from where Henry and Justine had just came. He was headed further down the hallway, where they were also going. Yusuf was left speechless. Then, as Justine began to lift the camera back up in the recording, he reached forward and pushed pause with a shaky finger. He quickly finished his second drink and started pacing back and forth inside his small office before he said, I should go home. I should go home right now. But he didn't.

He couldn't. He had to know what happened to Justine and Henry. So after letting out a deep sigh and rubbing his eyes, he finished his scotch, poured himself a third drink, sat back down in front of his TV, and pushed play again. Both Justine and I have agreed that this ominous message, Henry said directly to the camera from inside the same room, has likely been written in human blood. And if there is blood on this level,

"'What's waiting for us down in the basement?' Henry then walked past Justine and began to exit the room and walk out into the hallway where Yusuf had just seen Victor standing, or at least someone who appeared to match Victor's very unusual, highly specific description. Justine panned the camera around to follow him out and started walking behind him again before she said, "'Henry, I think we should leave.' "'What?' Henry huffed after he spun around to face the camera. "'Seriously? It's just starting to get good!'

"'I have a bad feeling about this place,' she said. "'I've had it ever since we walked in.' "'Of course you have!' Henry beamed. "'It's haunted! You know that! "'What if we're about to definitely capture "'an actual ghost on camera, Justine, "'or something else supernatural? "'That could be our ticket to Hollywood!'

What you're feeling right now is what is making me want to keep going. We want something bad to happen. Do we? I don't. Justine protested. I can handle seeing a ghost, I think, but I definitely don't want to risk being butchered by some monster. Well, of course, we don't want anything that bad to happen, Henry replied. I don't actually think anyone has been killed by Victor Shelley. That's just an urban legend. But I do think this place might be intensely haunted.

Please don't go, he pleaded. There was silence for several moments while the camera shook around. And then it steadied just before Justine said, okay, sorry, I'm just feeling rattled. This is why we're here though. Let's keep going. Atta girl, Justine. Henry smiled. Call me girl one more time and I really will leave, Justine warned. Jesus, Henry recoiled. Sorry, I didn't realize that was a bad thing to say. Of course you didn't, Justine mumbled.

"'Ready?' she asked. Henry smiled again. He clearly thought Justine's growing fear was good for their ghost hunt, and he nodded. "'Action!' she called out. After taking a moment to reset, Henry resumed walking and talking. "'Who knows how many ghosts could be lurking inside these walls?' he speculated."

In addition to the fire that claimed the lives of four staff members, six patients, and the head doctor, Dr. Johan Galvani, if in fact they weren't all murdered by Dr. Galvani's pet monster, Victor Shelley, a total of 364 patients, at least 364,

364 patients, those we have official records for, died on these grounds between 1872 and 1962. That's over four a year. And at least another five staff members died here during that time frame as well. Most died, he continued ominously, as they walked past several doors, some of which were open, but most of which were closed, of natural causes. Supposedly,

But at least five, based on criminal charges, were killed through either negligence or inhumane treatment. One patient was drowned after being forced, while wearing a modified straitjacket, to undergo hydrotherapy. This patient, a 25-year-old woman, who had been admitted by her husband for hysteria in 1912. A woman who was very likely not mentally ill at all, but maybe just wanted a divorce.

was wrapped in a specialized straitjacket called a sedative pack, and she was immersed in ice-cold water for what was supposed to be three hours. Her treatment, but really torture, should have been at least supervised.

But the orderlies left her in the room, wrapped up and unattended. And after her body went numb from the cold water, she slipped under, too weak to fight her way back to the surface. And when they came back, she was... Shit! Henry screamed while Justine simultaneously cried out startled. The camera whipped around all over the place before pointing back down the hall from where they had just come. And then Justine was able to capture a closed door seeming to open on its own.

Are you seeing that? She cried out to Henry. Yes. Oh my god, yes! He squealed off-frame, sounding both excited and a bit scared. Follow me down there. We have to see what's inside that room. Henry then shouted as he started to trot down the hall. Wait! Justine yelled after him. How do we know some person isn't in there? Why would they slam the door like that when they can hear us out here? Henry shouted back before he added, Hurry up! Do you really want to be left by yourself right now?

Dick, Justine muttered before she began to lower her camera and jog after him. Henry paused just before he made it to the doorway. Come on, Justine, he barked. Feel me walking in here. I feel like we're going to see something intense. Fine, she huffed a little out of breath before she raised up her camera and re-centered it on Henry. You're good. I got you. Henry looked straight into the lens and said, here goes nothing, before he stepped forward and swung his flashlight into the room with Justine right behind him.

Oh my God! He yelled, and then Yusuf yelled in his office along with him. Did you get that? Henry asked Justine. Tell me you're getting that! Holy hell, I got it! Justine breathlessly confirmed. Holy shit! Justine! Henry exclaimed excitedly. They had both not only witnessed what was certainly a ghost, they'd gotten it on film. Yusuf stopped the tape, rewound, and rewatched it to be sure. Yes, there it was.

The blue-gray, semi-translucent image of what appeared to be a short, bony woman with long, thin, scraggly hair, wearing a loose-fitting hospital gown. The specter stared directly at the two film students for a moment with the saddest eyes you've ever seen and a mouth frozen in what looked like a silent scream. And then she vanished. Yousef pressed play again. Now on his office TV, Henry was literally jumping up and down with excitement before he stopped and spoke straight to the camera.

"'That was real!' he cheered. "'That was real! A real ghost of what must have been a former patient of the Mount Lyssa Insane Asylum! Wow! I can't—' "'Ah!' Henry, Justine, and Yusuf watched it all yell simultaneously. And then, on screen, it was chaos. The camera bobbled around all over the place frantically, as did Henry's flashlight. Justine could be heard shouting, "'Get me the fuck out of here!' while Henry yelled, "'I'm trying, I'm trying, but the door won't open!'

Try harder! Justine screamed, sounding near tears. It's locked! Henry answered in frustration just before Justine screeched. It's back!

"'I can't get the fucking door!' Henry started to say, sounding panic before the door could be heard opening, followed by the sound of Henry tripping on his way out into the hall, and then Justine tripping over him and dropping the camera that now slid spinning down the hallway floor towards where they had been heading to the basement stairs. "'Ah!' It was Yusuf who now screamed. Just for a second, as the camera spun around, he saw Victor, or whoever it was that kept showing up on camera, exiting the hallway and heading down the stairs."

Yusuf decided not to press pause this time. He didn't need to rewind and watch again to make sure he had seen what he saw. He knew what he had witnessed. He knew that the two ghost hunters, whose tape he had come into possession of, had filmed something unbelievable and something dangerous. Now he just wanted them to be okay. He wanted the tape to end after they'd both gotten safely out of the mental hospital. And then he would figure out a way to find them and give them their camera and this tape back. But he remembered nothing.

He knew how the tape ended, lying on the floor, pointing at a wall, and that did not point to a good ending for these two. But he thought it also didn't mean that any harm had definitely came to them. He took a deep breath, steadied himself, stopped just shy of finishing his third glass of scotch, and kept watching. While Yusuf worried, on the recording, Henry shouted, "'No! Oh, God! Please let it not be broken!'

A few moments later, he picked the camera up, inspected it, and yelled, relieved, at Justine. I think it's okay. It's still recording, and we have about half the battery left. I don't care. I'm leaving. Now. Justine, still sounding near tears, yelled from back down the hall. Henry pointed the camera at her now.

"'Please!' he yelled back. "'Just a little longer. If you can't stay, fine. Take my flashlight and go. But I'm checking the basement, with or without you. I only need ten minutes, Justine. I have to try and find Dr. Galvani's secret room. Check out the fire damage. Poke around a bit. And then we're out of here, I promise.' "'God damn it!' Justine yelled out in frustration and buried her face into her hands and then screamed into them. She looked like she was about to have a breakdown.'

But then, after a few moments, she pulled her hands away, looked at Henry and said, I don't want you going down there alone. Give me your flashlight. You do the rest of the filming and the narrating. I'll at least come with you. Thank you. Henry smiled and yelled back. You're going to be so happy later that you stay, Justine. I promise. We might already have the best paranormal footage anyone has ever recorded. We probably do. But if we see something else downstairs, something more intense...

This footage won't just be something we can use to help sell the movie. This footage will be used as part of the movie. The best horror movie of all time. I'm serious. I don't care about any of that shit right now. Justine snapped. I'm scared, Henry. I'm like really fucking scared. I want to get the hell out of here. I just don't want to leave you. And I don't want to try and walk out of this nasty place alone. I understand, Justine. I really do. Henry reassured her as best he could.

What just happened to us was beyond intense. We're almost there, I promise. Just stick with me a little bit longer. Ten minutes, she shouted firmly. Not a single second more, I mean it. Nope, not a single extra second, promised, he confirmed. So we gotta hurry, let's get to the basement. Justine now quickly walked, almost ran up to Henry. The camera bobbled around while he gave her his flashlight.

And then she walked next to him instead of in front of or behind him while they made their way further down the hall towards the basement stairs. The stairs that they unknowingly had just recorded Victor Shelley walking down. And now we head towards the basement stairs, Henry dramatically narrated from behind the camera, as we continue what I'm already declaring the most successful and terrifying ghost hunt of all time.

After about 15 seconds of quickly and silently walking, while scanning open doors and the walls for anything else paranormal or disturbing, Henry enthusiastically declared, And here it is! Just as I had hoped. The stairway that will take us down to the site of the fire of 1962 and the multiple murders that very likely directly preceded it. What terrible sights and secrets await us.

While the main floor of the abandoned asylum had already gotten quite dark since the sun had fully set, this section of the basement, a section that had no windows owing to it being completely underground, unlike the basement directly beneath the central administration building that had numerous windows, this section was immersed in that special kind of darkness that feels thick.

So thick like it possesses its own physical, tangible form. Like it's an entity in and of itself. A sentient entity, capable of enveloping and smothering you at any moment. Are you sure you don't think this is dangerous? Justine anxiously asked as they began to descend down the stone steps. Henry turned the camera to face her. She looked pale and incredibly rattled as he then told her, no, not in any mortal danger.

Justine pursed her lips and furrowed her brow before she replied, Henry quickly and confidently replied,

We might think we're going to die if we encounter another ghost, especially if it looks like Victor Shelley, but it won't be able to really hurt us. Worst case, we see it, we scream, then we run out of the building and keep running all the way to the car and then go celebrate the fact that we're about to become very famous. Justine rolled her eyes. Okay, I'll keep trying to be a good sport, but I feel like I'm about to completely lose my shit. Then she looked at her watch and added, eight minutes, by the way.

"'Hang in there, Justine. Stay strong. I'm telling you, this is going to be worth it.' Justine shook her head as Henry turned the camera away from her, and down another hallway at the bottom of the stairs that, like the one above it, extended hundreds and hundreds of feet beyond where they stood to both the left and the right. But unlike the floor above, there was no nice hardwood, no decorative archways, no terrazzo flooring. It was concrete.'

Concrete, pipes, wire conduits and the like, everywhere as far as they could see. "'What the hell?' Henry said as he swung the camera around. "'What?' Justine asked. "'It's all concrete,' he said. "'So?' she responded. "'So how could any of this catch on fire?' he asked. "'Right,' Justine replied. "'Maybe there was no fire?' "'Exactly,' Henry said. "'And why would they lie about that?' When Justine didn't say anything, he answered his own question."

to cover something up, like a bunch of disturbing murders. The urban legend is no legend, at least not that part of it. Oh my God, stop, Justine said. What, you don't buy that? If not that, then that's not it, you idiot, Justine snapped. It's not what I want to hear right now. I'm about to have a nervous fucking breakdown. God, sorry, Henry said, sounding incredibly frustrated. I'm trying to be empathetic, but you knew why we were coming here. I have to make this narration chilling. Fine, I'll try and play along.

"'Which way do you want to go?' she snapped. "'To the right, back in the direction towards where we entered. Think based on my research that Dr. Galvani's lab is directly underneath the Central Administration Building.' Justine nodded and then Henry started walking, pointing the camera in front of both of them. More doors lined the hallway, but these doors looked more like prison doors than the ones in the hallway above. They were heavier, with small windows made out of security glass and slots for food trays to be passed through.

Down in these rooms, Henry dramatically narrated, the most dangerous, violent patients were locked away. But also, some patients who weren't dangerous or violent, patients who had the misfortune of being chosen by Dr. Galvani for one of his heinous, sadistic experiments were also imprisoned here against their will.

Victor Shelley himself, the monster of Mount Lyssa, was likely, if not almost certainly, locked in one of these rooms when Dr. Galvani wasn't giving him new eyes, or new skin, or new limb. Henry and Justine had both seen another ghost, this time down the hallway about 40 yards in front of them. Yusuf screamed along with them from the present in his office.

This ghost was much less translucent than the one they'd seen before. It looked almost like a real, living person. Almost. It had the appearance of a psychiatrist from the 1960s.

Far down the hall before them stood the specter of a thin, tall, long-faced, serious-looking middle-aged man with short, dark, closely cut hair and black framed glasses, wearing a white lab coat with a white collared button-up shirt and maroon tie beneath it, dark slacks and black leather pointed derby lace-up shoes. And instead of disappearing after they screamed like the previous apparition, he just continued to stand there and to stare.

Justine wailed from behind Henry in the camera. Henry could be heard mumbling, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, over and over as a completely horrified Justine screamed, no, no, no, several more times. Yusuf, continuing to watch from the safety of his office, didn't feel so safe and began to silently pray over and over. He finished his third glass of scotch, stood up again and backed away from his TV, but he kept watching.

Down in the asylum basement, Justine had finally completely lost it. She was done. Henry knew that. But he couldn't leave.

What he was witnessing, what he was capturing on video, it was far too incredible to turn away from. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen. It was unlike anything that had ever been recorded. He was scared, more than he wanted to admit, but he was also aware that he was literally making history. So when he heard Justine turn and run back towards the stairs they'd just come down, he didn't chase after her. He didn't even call out for her. He just kept watching.

"Run!" Yusuf breathlessly and pointlessly uttered at his TV as if Henry could hear him from the future. "You need to run. Now!" he added. But Henry didn't run. Instead, he did the opposite. He began to slowly and steadily walk forward, towards the supernatural figure in front of him. And as he made his approach, still, the doctor's apparition did not move. It continued to stand where it was and silently and stoically stare ahead.

Soon, Henry could no longer hear Justine's cries and screams or the sound of her running. He assumed that she had made it out of the building. If he, in fact, really thought about her at all, his mind was consumed with what he was filming. He just kept slowly, methodically, creeping forward. This went on for over a full minute. Finally, he stood no more than 10 feet away from the ghost he was still recording.

and knowing this might likely be the only chance he would ever have to speak with the dead, he mustered up the courage to ask it, "'Are you... are you the ghost of Dr. Johann Galvani?' The apparition said nothing. It didn't change its appearance in any way. It only continued to stare at Henry, who now felt emboldened to continue to engage with it. "'Tid... did your patient, Victor Shelley, did he murder you?' he asked next."

Suddenly, unnaturally suddenly, the Dr. Stern cold, tight-lipped expression turned instantaneously into a maniacal grin. "'Holy shit!' Henry exclaimed, startled. The camera shook, but to his credit, Henry somehow managed, fueled by thoughts of fame and fortune, to keep his nerves at bay and the ghost in frame. And that ghost now spoke. "'The price for progress is nearly always pain,' the apparition told him, as its eyes lit up with madness. "'The more progress made, the more pain is required.'

and then the ghost's form began to vibrate. The smile turned into a grimace, the doctor began to scream, and a few seconds later large cracks began to appear in his skin. Those cracks began to bleed and widen and bleed further. The vibrating became more violent and then the ghost's body exploded into over a dozen different pieces as if some force surrounding it on all sides had just torn it apart.

or as if all the gravity and atmospheric pressure had just left the room and there was no longer any environmental forces holding its spectral body together. Instead of being covered in its ghostly blood, Henry, who stood frozen in place, his mind unable to process what he was witnessing, felt

felt an explosion of energy shoot past and through him like some sort of freezing wind. And then a few moments later, he felt that same energy rush back past him in the opposite direction. And then the doctor's ghostly visage was in front of him again, instantaneously reconstructed, but now standing only a foot or so away. The ghost's mad, wide-open eyes stared directly into his. Its smile returned, and it now sang, "'Only when you are dead will he make you whole again.'"

This terrifying display plus a new distant pain scream from Justine from somewhere in the distance behind him finally caused Henry to turn and run.

The camera bounced around wildly as he carried it in one hand, as he heard Justine cry out in pain again, as the ghost once more sang from behind him louder this time. "'Only when you are dead will he make you whole again.' "'Enough!' Yusuf yelled from his office. "'Oh my God, enough!' he shouted as he pushed pause on the recording and then quickly walked over to his bottle of scotch after grabbing his empty glass. He didn't bother with a two-finger pour this time. He nearly filled the tumbler to the brim for his fourth drink of the night."

"'This can't be real!' he lied to himself. "'It's not possible.' He mumbled nervously after he gulped down nearly half of his new drink. "'It must be fake,' he said. "'Some movie, not a home recording,' he told himself, trying to convince himself this was some kind of Hollywood trickery. But he knew that wasn't true. Even for a low-budget movie, the quality still wasn't good enough. And Henry and Justine clearly were not following any kind of script. "'I should go home,' he said. But he knew if he did, he wouldn't be able to sleep.'

He would lie in bed and lay awake and wonder what had happened to Henry and Justine. So Yusuf walked back into his office, determined to finish the tape without stopping it again, but then caught some movement out of the corner of his eye from behind him, outside of the locked front door. Spinning around and looking more closely, it appeared as if someone was pressing their face up against the glass of the door's window. They'd cupped their hands around their eyes and were looking right at him. "'Hey!' he shouted. "'What are you doing out there?'

He walked back to where he stored his scotch, reached down and grabbed a loaded .357 he also kept behind the counter, and walked over to the door. But the face was gone now. He moved to unlock it and check outside, but then stopped. His mind flashed on Victor Shelley. He wondered if he could be outside. He wondered if the creature had followed the two teens who had sold him the camera. Maybe it wanted the tape, he thought. Maybe it didn't want anyone to have proof of its existence. He laughed.

"'Listen to yourself, Yusuf! You've never been so worked up! Maybe ghosts are real, but they can't hurt you, you silly old man!' But then he didn't unlock his door to check outside. He was far too scared. As much as he tried to tell himself that he was safe—safe at least from urban legends—he didn't feel safe enough to peek out there. Instead, he convinced himself to return to his office and finish the tape.'

Then, once he knew that Justine and Henry were safe, he would know that he was safe as well, and could put his superstitious fears to rest, and figure out how he would explain to his wife why he'd gotten so drunk at work. Back in the asylum basement, Henry was running. "'Justine!' he yelled. "'I'm coming! Where are you?'

He heard her scream again, a terrible, terrible scream that transformed to a moan, a wet, gurgling moan that faded away into silence rather than abruptly stopped. It was the kind of noise someone makes when they're dying. "'Justine!' he screamed, more frantically now, as he ran past the stairs to the basement and further down the hallway."

"'Only when you are dead will he make you whole again!' "'Ah!' Henry shrieked as he stuttered to a stop. He raised up his camera, which was also his source of light, and in front of him stood the ghost of the doctor again, smiling once more. "'Her operation is almost complete,' the wraith proclaimed. "'The prized patient is now the doctor.' And then the doctor turned his head and looked towards a slightly open door to one of the former patient prison cells-slash-treatment rooms to his right, before vanishing again."

From inside that room, Henry could hear movement and the sound of someone breathing and mumbling incoherently to themselves. Someone who did not sound like Justine. He wanted to run. He too didn't want to be in the asylum anymore. But what if Justine was in there? What if whoever he could hear had done something to her, was doing that to her right now? He gathered up all the courage he had and kicked open the door while then stepping back, raising his camera and filming.

Even after all he'd seen, he still hadn't lost sight of how important it would be to document what he was experiencing. He believed more than ever that he was recording what was going to make him rich and famous. But then, what his camera now captured was far worse than anything he could have ever reasonably expected to see.

A large man. A large man in patient's clothes. Dirty white linen drawstring pants covered in what looked like fresh blood. And an even dirtier white, also bloody, cotton t-shirt with several holes in it was crouched over a body. Justine's body. He could tell it was her by the pants he knew she was wearing. Pants now covering a leg that was no longer attached to the rest of her body. The light of his camera also revealed that her other leg and arms had been severed and that she had been decapitated.

Her head, with her eyes still open, lay on the floor several feet behind the rest of her, looking like it was horrified by what it was witnessing. And what Justine's head was staring at was a man with a savagely and grotesquely stitched together body and face, a living patchwork of different sets of skin, attempting to sew one of Justine's legs back onto her hip with a very large needle and string so thick it looked almost like rope.

Only when you are dead will he make you whole again. Henry began to scream when he heard the doctor singing from behind him, singing while Victor Shelley, also known as the monster of Mount Lyssa, now stared at him with his mismatched eyes. Yusuf watched in stunned silence from the present. He felt sick to his stomach. So did Henry down in the asylum basement. He also now finally, truly feared for his life, and he turned and ran, bringing the camera with him.

For the next several minutes, the camera bobbled around wildly, picking up scattered images of the inside of the asylum and then its exterior and the grounds that surrounded it as Yusuf listened to Henry's increasingly heavy breathing, as he listened to him beg God and the universe to let him live and occasionally scream for help.

Yusuf couldn't tell if Victor was following Henry or not. He couldn't hear him above the noise that Henry was making. Henry stopped running when he reached some small outer building along the edge of the abandoned property. He entered through another unlocked door, set the camera on the floor, and Yusuf recognized what he was watching from the first footage he had seen from this tape when he had checked to make sure the camera worked.

He again saw what looked like the inside of some abandoned building that had become a party spot for teenagers based on the graffiti on the walls and the empty beer bottles and candy wrappers on the floor. And now he heard Henry off-frame as he shouted, No! No! Stay out! Stay away from me! I want help! He heard another voice, a deep guttural voice, shout what sounded like, Where did you find me? Henry then began to shout, Victor, please! I can help you! Please don't! And then Yusuf heard a loud and wet, followed by what sounded like a body hitting the floor.

Over the next minute or so, Yusuf heard more chopping sounds, sounds of the axe Victor was using to chop off Henry's limbs and his head, but he saw nothing. The camera remained fixed on the wall. Over the next few minutes, Yusuf still saw nothing, but kept hearing the sound of Victor, Victor mumbling to himself, grunting and humming the same sick melody, the same melody the ghost of the doctor had sang. Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-mm-

And then the footage ended when the camera's battery must have went dead. And the footage Yusuf had shot himself in his pawn shop less than two hours earlier now was playing on his TV. But the audio was different. Behind his own voice, Yusuf could still hear the melody being hummed. Wait, he realized. That humming wasn't coming from the TV. It was coming from directly behind him. Wait.

Please. He pleaded without turning around. Just take your tape. He begged in an unsteady voice. I'll tell no one. Who would even believe me? The last thing Yusuf felt was the axe blade hitting his neck. The last thing he heard was Victor Shelley's insane, monstrous voice. It's okay. I'll make you whole again. And that's it for this chapter of Nightmare Fuel.

I hope you loved... No. I hope you were fucking horrified by today's story. He'll make you whole. After the past few Nightmare Fuels, I guess I still wasn't ready to leave the 80s. Special thanks on this one to Kyle Conkeel from Bad Wolves for sending me some dark synthwave tracks he's been working on for some inspiration and for turning me on to Dance With The Dead.

Kyle and Dance with the Dead's tracks were all I listened to when writing this one. And if I had more free time and was sitting on millions of dollars, I would be turning this one into a low-budget horror film right now. I think it could be a classic rollercoaster ride of tension and jump scares, if done right. Today's tale was written by me, Dan Cummins, and scored by Logan Keith. I've been killing it on these.

If you enjoyed this story, check out the rest of the Bad Magic Productions catalog. Time Suck every Monday at noon Pacific time with little short sucks on some Fridays and these nightmare fuel episodes on some Fridays as well. And new episodes of the now long-running paranormal podcast Scared to Death every Tuesday at midnight. Please go to badmagicproductions.com for all your bad magic needs including show-related merch and stay scared. Bad Magic Productions.

Thank you.

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