My name is Emmitt and what I’m about to tell you is something that still haunts me to this day. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I need to tell someone. I signed papers saying I’m legally not allowed to tell you, but I don’t care anymore. I don’t know if I can’t go on any longer like this. 

I suppose I should start from the beginning. I’m a marine veteran. Upon returning to civilian life, I had a hard time adjusting. One thing led to another and I ended up becoming homeless. I’m not proud of it, but I’m not going to deny it either. 

Anyway, after living on the streets of L. A. for some time, I’ve gotten to know many of the other homeless there. We formed a sort of community. Not all of them make it however, many die for various reasons, whether it’s drug overdose, starvation, or some kind of disease. A few of them I had become good friends with. Pete and I had become very good friends. He too was a veteran. He, unfortunately, died of a heroin overdose. Then there was Linda who was just a bit crazy. But she was harmless. I’m not quite sure how she died. Then there was poor Ricky, he committed suicide. Hanged himself over the bridge. Unfortunately, that’s not unusual with the homeless community. Regardless, no one really gives a shit about us. 

Anyway, it had been over a day since my last meal and I was rummaging around in the dumpster for anything I could scrap up. Once again, I’m not proud of this, but my pride is irrelevant. 

It was then that I was approached by a rather strange man. He was in a black polo shirt with thick glasses and khaki pants. He offered to buy me lunch if I heard his offer. I couldn’t deny how hungry I was so I took him up. 

We arrived at a decent place and after we ordered he told me about an opportunity he’d like to offer me. An opportunity that paid very well. I asked him what was the catch, he said I just had to subject myself to a little experiment. It wouldn’t be anything serious, just a drug trial that’s all. He said the drug wasn’t dangerous or anything. I was going to decline when they told me how much they’d be paying me. I reluctantly accepted.  

From there I was taken to a large laboratory that kind of had an insane asylum feel to it. White walls, white tile flooring, and a very sterile smell to it. I was taken into a room and I had to fill out paperwork and sign a nondisclosure agreement. Another man came in and gave me a full psych evaluation. He seemed very pleased with the results. He went over them with me and said that he determined that I was suffering from not only PTSD, but depression, and anxiety. I told him to try being a homeless veteran and see what mental disorders he’d suffer from. 

Then a woman came in and brought me to a room with a type of bed table that had straps. I felt a panic rise in me as I looked over at the nurse. She told me the straps were a precautionary step to prevent injury. She handed me a patient gown and told me to change. 

She left me alone as I changed out of my rags and into the gown. I took a seat at the table bed and waited for what seemed like forever before several people came in including the nurse. A tall thin balding man with rectangular glasses seemed to be in charge and went over what they were going to do. They said they were going to inject me with a drug they had developed that could help with several mental disorders including the ones I currently suffered from. Of course, this drug is in its early stages of development. They were testing for any possible side effects which seemed very dodgy. I thought they had to work out possible side effects before going onto human trials. They assured me it’d be harmless.

I reluctantly went through with it, not that I felt I had a choice in the matter. I felt as if at this point there was no going back, at least that’s how they made it feel. They strapped me into the table and then came back with a syringe filled with some kind of black substance. I felt a very unsettling feeling creep over me. That substance, whatever it was did look as if it shouldn’t be inside anyone’s body. Before I could object, they held me down and I felt the prick of the needle and a very cold sensation course through my body. Other than that I didn’t feel any different. They took me and put me in another room to monitor any potential side effects. 

I don’t know how long I was left in that room. There were no windows or clocks. I fell asleep some time afterward. I woke up to a man in a black suit leaning against the wall. A man I hadn’t seen prior to now. He seemed mildly amused. “They gave you the injection, did they?” 

I nodded warily. Wouldn’t he know if he was with the organization? He seemed like someone important. He had slicked black hair and a pale complexion. “Of course they did. If they didn’t, you wouldn’t be talking to me.” 

I had no idea what he meant by that. “Do you work for them?” 

“I’m an interested third party,” he said with a smile that made me feel uneasy. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret. What they gave you won’t cure your ailments. In fact, they have no idea what it does. That’s why they gave it to you. They’re hoping to figure that out.”

A sudden nauseating feeling came over me. What did he mean by that? That couldn’t be true? That had to be illegal. How could they get away with that? I felt very sick. I don’t know if it was because of what they injected inside me or just knowing that I was a guinea pig for whatever twisted experiment this was. Who even are these people? Why didn’t I think to ask that? The man leaned in a little closer with a wicked smile. “but I know exactly what it’ll do to you. You’ll see soon enough.” 

The man let out a laugh before leaving the room. I don’t know how long I spent in that room. It felt like weeks. I kept waiting for something bad to happen. I thought I was going to experience pain or some kind of horrific side effect. However, nothing strange seemed to happen after the meeting with that man. 

Eventually, they finally decided to let me go. True to their word, I received compensation. It was enough money to really make a difference in my life. With it, I could start a new life. I decided to really try to improve myself. Turn a new leaf. Maybe the drug did work. I was actually starting to feel better. It was as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. And then I ran into my old friend Pete and I felt my blood freeze.

The End.

Remember, you’re never safe in the dark…

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The post Creepypasta – Lab Rat appeared first on Solaris Night.

My name is Camille Dawson and what I’m about to share with you is something that I’m not sure if I truly believe. My mother is very superstitious and believes in the paranormal, but I have a very skeptical mind. Anyway, let me get to the point. 

A while at home at my parents’ beach house, I took a stroll along the shoreline to clear my head. I like to dip my feet in the water and while I was in the process of doing this I found a bottle had washed ashore. While I’m out I usually like to pick up the trash I find and keep the beach clean. So I bent down and picked up the bottle, to my surprise, there was a message within it. I took it back home and uncorked the bottle and wiggled out the message. 

What I read was truly eerie and unsettling. 

To whoever finds this,

What I’m about to tell you is truly hard to believe, but it is without a doubt real. I’m 22 years old and I took a job on a Tuna Fishing boat. I was just a newbie at the time, and we went out for my first trip. Then we hit a storm. The odd part was that the storm was not on the radar. It came out of nowhere. The storm was so bad, I can hardly believe our ship didn’t capsize. The waves were taller than our little fishing boat itself. 

I was trying my best to hold on when a wave caught me and pulled me overboard. I thought for sure I was going to die. Maybe I did die. It’s hard to tell anymore. Even with a lifejacket, it was hard to keep my head above water. I kept getting pulled under. It was a vicious cycle of fighting for air and being swept under the current. The storm made it impossible to see anything. I had to keep my eyes closed the entire time. 

It felt like an eternity of torment, being pulled under the surface, fighting my way back up. A constant struggle. Eventually, it came to an end and things settled down. I found myself in the middle of the ocean with only a life jacket and nothing else in sight but water. I had no idea if our fishing ship was intact or what the status of everyone else was. As the sun rose I drifted in the water, cold and shivering. Most likely dealing with hypothermia and I was starving. 

That’s when I saw them. Sharks were swarming around me like flies. My heart raced in my chest. I knew I was going to die. There was nothing I could do but float there in the water waiting for them to strike as my skin shriveled up into raisins. I waited with deathly anxiety. Waited for them to bite, but they never did. Hours went by as the sun traveled through the sky. However, none attacked. Finally, the sun fell below the sky. I was starving as darkness took over and night conquered the day. 

I hadn’t drunk any fresh clean water in over a day. I was coming in and out of consciousness. My thoughts became filled with desperation and delusions. The lack of any moon wrapped the water in complete darkness. Never have I ever been so afraid in my life. Sharks swam in the distance. I could barely make out that dreadful fin rise up out of the water. At this point, I welcomed death compared to the state of life I barely clung to. The fear and panic came to a point where I thought it’d be best to die and get it over with. 

An eerie misty fog crept over the water to add to my disparity. But hope came at last! I spotted a ship in the distance. A cruise ship. It had the words Wilhelm Gustloff written on it. The ship seemed rather old, but I was also very delirious at that point. I waved my hands and shouted at the top of my lungs for help. 

It was luck or a miracle. They took me aboard. I was saved. Or at least that’s what I thought at the time. I was greeted by several people, all worried, but welcomed me aboard. They hardly spoke English and were wary of me. They looked upon me with great suspicion and often asked me where I came from and what side I was on. I was very confused by this. I found it peculiar that most aboard spoke little English. I guessed that there were German Cruise ships. Fortunately, I took plenty of german classes so I was able to speak with them with a certain ease. After I was treated, washed, clothed, and fed, I was given a room to sleep in. 

I awoke the next day to be greeted by the same faces. That’s when I noticed their clothes were rather… Outdated to say the least. I told them all about what had happened with our small fishing boat. I urged them to head back and find if there were any other survivors. 

None of them seemed to listen. They said I was welcomed to the food and the rest of the amenities aboard. I did find more than a few military officers on board. That’s when I saw a Nazi symbol upon their uniforms and nearly had a heart attack. I tried to keep a calm composure. I had no idea I had gotten myself into. Nazis here? WWII ended long before I was even born. How could this be? 

One of the officers spotted me and asked me for my documents. I tried to explain I was on a fishing boat when we got hit by a storm and your ship saved me. They hardly listened. I was grabbed and taken down below. They questioned me and interrogated me, but after a long time, I was put back into a room. 

As day turned to night, I knew I had to get off this ship. I discovered they did not lock my door. I managed to slip out and make my way to the lifeboats. I found them to be frozen to the ship. I snuck off and found a knife before climbing aboard a lifeboat and cutting the rope, sending the boat plunging down to the waters. With a loud splash, it stayed afloat. I was free of the ship. 

I watched as it sailed away in a misty haze. Now I just needed to find either another ship or land or something. As I drifted out on the sea, I fell asleep. 

When I woke back up, I was in a bed on a rather large ship. They must have found me while I was sleeping. I don’t know how I slept through getting pulled onboard. I walked out and to my horror, I discovered I was back on the Wilhelm Gustloff. As I walked out onto the deck, the light of the moon shined down and what I saw horrified me. The men and women aboard were not alive, but walking rotting corpses. Then I saw my own reflection and screamed. I too looked dead. It took me a long time to realize it, but I finally came to the conclusion I did not survive the storm and now I’m trapped on a Nazie Cruise ship. 

I’m writing this message to warn you to tread the waters cautiously. If you see the Wilhelm Gustloff, turn around immediately. 

Yours truly, 

Josiah Shepard 

A chill crept down my spine as I finished reading the letter. Surely someone was playing quite a good prank. This couldn’t be true. Obviously, ghosts don’t exist. Right? 

I quickly looked up everything. I discovered that the MV Wilhelm Gustloff was a German cruise ship that sank in 1945 and over 8,000 people died. I then researched Josiah Shepard and found some of his social media accounts and what I found made me truly sick. I saw a handsome man with brown hair and blue eyes and then I found that he had taken a job on a fishing boat. What I found next truly unsettled me. He was swept overboard on an outing and was lost at sea. What the fuck? Everything seemed to line up in the letter. But still, anyone could’ve researched this and wrote that stuff down in the letter. A very elaborate prank. I gotta give it to them. 

Anyway, a few years had passed since I found that letter. I came back to visit my parents during a week in the summer and we ended up taking their boat out. It was a beautiful day and I had my boyfriend with me at the time. We had left the shoreline behind and water was all that we saw for miles. 

That’s when an unsettling fog crept over the water and left us all in chills. Off in the distance, I saw the outline of a giant cruise liner. I had a very bad feeling about it all. I told my dad to get us out of there. However, the ship continued to drift closer. I had a nauseating feeling in my stomach as it came into view. 

That’s when I saw the words written on the bow. It read Wilhelm Gustloff. Then I saw a man standing on the side looking down at us. I recognized his brown hair and blue eyes and knew who he was immediately. It was the man who had written the letter. I had never felt more terrified in my entire life at that moment. From this point on, I knew the truth. Ghosts do exist. 

The End.

Remember, you’re never safe in the dark…

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The post Creepypasta – Ghost Ship appeared first on Solaris Night.

Speaking to the Dead

It had been 3 weeks since my girlfriend Amira took her own life. I still can’t believe she did it. She was so happy. We were both so happy together. Why would she have committed suicide when we had so many plans. It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense anymore. 

I tried to go on, but I couldn’t. I saw her everywhere. At school, I saw her decorated locker and remembered all the conversations we had together. It was there we made plans to take a year off after high school and travel, seeing the world. 

Seeing her empty desk reminded me of all the times she let me cheat off her in class. Especially French class which she became quite fluent in. She was always the smart one. She always tried to get me to learn the material, but I was too stubborn and it was much easier to just copy her. 

I went to the coffee shop we always attended after school, it felt hollow without her. Seeing her empty seat only made my already broken heart shatter into more pieces. There was a void inside my chest in her absence. We would spend hours in this coffee shop, discussing everything from my obsession with superheroes to her obsession with books. She’d always get a chai tea while I resorted to hot chocolate. I still remember the way she’d look at me as I went on and on about how Titan was the strongest superhero of them all. She’d just sip her tea and listen intently. Her shimmering brown eyes seemed to light up as I spoke. She’d occasionally tuck a loose string of her silky brown hair behind her ear.

I couldn’t get enough of her creamy angelic voice whenever she’d speak about her latest book obsession. She went into detail about every twist and turn she read about. I’d listen with enthusiasm as she explained why the ending was so perfect. She was perfect. She even started writing her own novel. Sadly she never finished it. 

The only other person who seemed to understand my pain and truly know my loss was her mother Madeline Poole. I visited her quite often after Amira left this world. She’d make me tea, the same tea Amira loved. Then she’d tell me stories of what Amira was like growing up. How she was always such a curious child. Always questioning things and always had her nose in a book. 

That’s Amira alright, I said. God, I missed her so much. Life wasn’t worth living without her. I still look at her social media accounts every day. I’d see all the pictures of us together and how happy she was. I don’t think I’ll ever truly understand why she left us. 

One day after school I found myself on one of her social media accounts, watching a video of us together. We were at a cornfield maze. I remembered that day well. We had so much fun. We got a bit lost in the maze but enjoyed every minute of it before we picked out pumpkins and carved them later that night. She told me she had never felt happier in her life that day. We had our first kiss that night. I had driven her home and we sat in my car in her driveway. We both were nervous, I could tell. She looked over at me and I looked over at her. We slowly leaned in and our lips touched. She then whispered in my ear Mon Chéri which meant my dear in french. She continued to whisper that to me whenever we were alone and I called her Ma Chérie. It was our thing. No one else knew about it. I felt like I was reliving the memory when I got a message. 

I nearly toppled over in my chair as I saw who it was from. It was from Amira. I couldn’t believe it. Was someone playing a prank on me? It wasn’t funny, that’s for sure. I swore if I found out who was behind the prank, I’d make them pay. I opened the message and it only had 2 words. Help me.

A sudden chill crept over my skin. I stared at the message for a long time before I pulled myself together. I quickly typed a reply. Look, whoever you are, you’re not funny. Knock it off!!!

I saw they were typing again. I was getting really angry. Who would dare hack into her account and play such a disgusting prank?

Patrick, please, I need your help!

It’s not funny! Stop playing around! I typed back. 

Once again they were typing. I swear, I’m going to find out who’s doing this and when I do…

They sent another message and I froze. My hands became very sweaty and my heart started to race. It couldn’t be. That’s impossible. 

The message read. Mon Chéri, remember the time we were at the cornfield maze? We got lost but we had so much fun. You drove me home that night and we kissed for the first time. Remember? 

Could it really be her? No one else knows about what happened that night. Maybe she told someone about that night. I started typing again. 

Who are you and how did you know that?

It’s me, Amira. Your Ma Chérie. Please, you have to believe me. I always let you cheat off my homework even after I tried to persuade you to do your own work. You have to believe me. I need your help. 

I didn’t know what to say or even what to think. She knew things that only Amira and I knew. Could it really be her? She’s dead. I remember seeing her cold dead body in the casket during her funeral. I began typing. How is this possible? 

I waited with sickening anticipation as she started to type. I don’t know, but you need to get my laptop. It has everything. You need to get it, Mon Chéri. Watch what’s on it. It has the truth. 

What truth? What’s on the laptop? I typed furiously. 

I have to go. She began typing again but stopped. I waited for almost an hour, but no other message came. 

The next day after school, I went over to Amira’s house and was greeted by her mother. She smiled as she invited me in for tea. I sat down and we chatted a bit. She told me about a memory of Amira’s homecoming. How we both looked so adorable together all dressed up. She said she had been going over the pictures that day and fell into tears. I try my best to comfort her while thinking of a way to ask her if I could go to her room. 

“Ms. Poole?”

“Oh, darling you can just call me Madeline,” she said. 

“I was wondering if I could go up to Amira’s room and get her laptop,” I asked. 

She looked up at me apprehensively. She seemed shocked that I would even ask that. “What would you want her laptop for?”

I had to quickly think of an excuse. I didn’t want to tell her that I could be talking to the dead ghost of her daughter over social media. That seemed crazy. I really thought I might’ve gone mad and I didn’t want to validate it. “She was writing a book and I wanted to finish it for her and publish it. I thought that she deserved some sort of recognition.”

She thought it over a bit before a sincere smile appeared on her face. “Yes, I think that would be nice. Amira would want that.”

She led me up to her room and let me inside. I noticed there were scuff marks on the door, but it didn’t seem all that odd. I knew Amira had argued with her mother sometimes. As we walked into her room, my breath caught. It was exactly the same as it had been while she was alive. I couldn’t fight the tears as I walked in. My emotions overwhelmed me and I found myself breaking down at the sight of all her things. Her mother did her best to comfort me. It took me a while to pull myself together. I found her laptop on her desk and she took it into her hands and hugged it close to her chest. She told me to be careful with it and if I found anything in it to let her know immediately. I nodded and promised I would. She reluctantly handed it to me. She held on, looking me in the eyes as I went to take it from her. 

“Her things are all I have left of her. Please don’t mess with anything on her laptop. I want it left the way it is,” she said, with tears streaming down her eyes. I nodded and I promised her I wasn’t going to change anything on it. I just wanted to publish her novel. 

She let go and hugged me. She walked me out and watched as I got into my car. I took one last look up at her as she stood at the door staring down at me. She seemed very reluctant to give me the laptop and I understood. It was a piece of her daughter she had given me. 

I drove back home, plugged the laptop in, and booted it up. I came to the login screen which was password protected. I logged onto my social media account and messaged her, saying I had the laptop but it was password protected. 

Her reply was instant. Moncheri. 

Of course. I quickly went back to her computer. After taking a deep breath I typed it in. It worked. I was taken to her desktop. I found her novel. I opened it to find she had actually completed it. Tears welled up as I began to read it. I read the entire thing that night. It was brilliant, but what I found typed at the end left me puzzled. It was a file extension. I searched her computer for the file and found it. Inside the file were a bunch of videos. There were 2 videos. One was dated the day before she died and the other was dated on the day she died. 

I clicked the first video and her face popped up, but what she said made me sick. 

“I think my mother is sick in the head,” she said in a very scared and panicked tone. “I don’t know who to tell about this, but she needs help. She found out that I was planning on leaving after I graduated high school. She was angry about it. She said I couldn’t leave her. I don’t like the look in her eyes. She’s really starting to scare me.”

She quickly looked over her shoulder. “I have to go.” 

I was speechless. I quickly pulled up the next video and watched it. Once again Amira’s face came into view. She looked truly frightened. “I think my mother is going to kill me. She’s gone deranged. She says I can’t leave her. She says that I have to stay here with her forever. I told her she’s crazy. She won’t let me leave the house. She took my phone away and shut the internet off. I have no way of getting help! I’m scared. I’m really scared.”  

There was a pounding noise in the background. Amira looked behind her and then back at the computer. There were tears in her eyes. I felt this nauseating feeling in my stomach as I watched in horror. “I have to go, she’s trying to get into my room.”

“Who are you talking to? You can’t be talking to that Patrick boy, I have your phone and shut down the internet. Open the door!” I heard Amira’s mom shout behind her. “You need to stay with me. You can’t leave me. You’re all I have left. I won’t let you leave.” 

She starts to cry and panic. “I have to go. If you find this, it might be too late. Please, tell someone.” 

The video doesn’t stop there. It shows Madeline breaking in. There was a struggle. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t stop watching. Amira tried to pull away from her mother, she tripped and fell. Her head smacked hard against her desk and there was a loud crack. Madeline screamed. I felt sick. I bent down and found the waste paper basket and threw up. The video continued as Madeline sobbed. It was clear that Amira was dead. So it wasn’t a suicide. Then how did the police determine it was? I continued watching to find Madeline coming to her senses. She rushed away and came back with rope. She a noose to the ceiling fan. She strung up her dead daughter, then she pulled her down and in a hysterical fit, she called the police. 

As the police arrived, she told them a huge lie. That she broke in to find her daughter was hanging there. They ruled it a suicide. The video goes on for a while longer before it cuts off. 

Just then I saw someone pull into my driveway. It was Ms. Poole. My heart froze. Could she suspect that the truth is on the laptop? I quickly called the police. 

I heard downstairs my mother answered the door and invited Ms. Poole in. My heart tried to leap out of my chest. I told the police everything and how Ms. Poole was downstairs. They said they’d send someone over. 

I heard Ms. Poole asked my mother if I was home. She told her that I was upstairs. I heard her footsteps as they climbed the stairs. My stomach turned and I felt sick as my mother knocked on the door. I quickly shut the laptop “Honey? Amira’s mother is here. She wants to speak with you.” 

My mother opened the door and she let Amira’s mom in. I tried to compose myself. I tried to act normal. I tried to get my breathing under control as Amira’s mom stepped in. She looked at me and then at the laptop. “Were you able to get in?”

“No, it’s password-protected,” I lied quickly. I saw a sense of relief cross her face. She killed the love of my life. Her own daughter. 

“I think I like to have it back,” she said. 

“No,” I spat out, grabbing the laptop. 

“Honey, I know how you feel, but it’s not yours,” my mother said behind her. 

“Sweetie, please. I just… I didn’t realize how much it meant to me…” Ms. Poole said. The look in her eyes said otherwise. She knew what might be on there. I could see it on her face. 

“Liar!” I spat out to both my mother and Ms. Poole’s shock. 

“Madeline, I apologize. Patrick hasn’t been himself ever since Amira passed away,” my mother said. 

“I understand, now just give me the laptop,” she demanded, holding out her hand. 

I saw the police lights in the distance. “I lied. I was able to get into her laptop. You wouldn’t believe what I found.” 

Her eyes went wide and her face contorted to both horror and anger. With the laptop clenched in my hands, I pushed past her and bolted downstairs as the police arrived. I ran outside and told the woman officer everything except the part where Amira messaged me. 

They took both Madeline Poole and myself to the police station. I showed them the videos Amira made and they arrested Madeline. The news was all over the internet by the morning. Psycho mother murdered her daughter and made it look like a suicide. 

None of it made me feel any better. In fact, it made me feel worse. I couldn’t sleep. I felt horrible about it all. I never would’ve guessed all that was going on. Ms. Poole seemed so kind. Why couldn’t Amira have told me? I would’ve protected her. I didn’t understand any of it. 

A little after all that happened I received a message from Amira. I quickly opened it. 

Thank you, mon chéri. I wish I could spend one more day with you. I love you. I want you to live a happy life. Will you do that for me? 

Tears fought their way out of my eyes as I read her message. I love you too, ma chérie. But we can still talk, right?

I waited as my heart ached while she typed. 

I wish we could, but unfortunately, I can’t stay here any longer. I love you so much. Please forget about me and find someone to be happy with. That’s what I want for you. Promise me you’ll still travel. 

Please don’t go. I can’t be happy without you. I don’t want to live in a world without you in it. 

Oh, my sweet mon chéri, I would love nothing more than to stay here with you, but I can’t. You have to let go of me. Please live a full life for me. I love you. Goodbye Patrick. 

I broke down and cried. She’s gone. She’s really gone. It took me a long time before I could pull myself together. I saved her laptop. I ended up publishing her book in her name. After I graduated, I did exactly what we planned to do and traveled. I got postcards from every place she wanted to visit. It felt like she was there with me. I hope wherever she is, she’s at peace.

The End.

Remember, you’re never safe in the dark…

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The post Creepypasta – Speaking to the Dead appeared first on Solaris Night.

I’m first going to start off by saying I never believed in the paranormal or ghosts. I’m not really atheist or whatever, but I’m not religious either. My sister on the other hand is very into the paranormal stuff. You could say she’s a big believer in ghosts. I was a total skeptic. However, what happened on the night I’m about to tell you forever changed my beliefs. 

To begin, I need to tell you I was desperate for cash. Like every teenager who’s about to turn 16, I was stashing away every dollar I could to save up for a halfway decent car. My family isn’t exactly what you call wealthy. My parents worked really hard to provide for me and my sister. They both worked for our newly elected mayor Brayden Palmer who won by a landslide. However, my father isn’t too hyped on him. He says the man isn’t all that trustworthy and may have bought himself into the office. Apparently, he inherited lots of money or something.

Anyway, at that point in time, I decided to put an ad on Craigslist to babysit for a fee. That was my first mistake. I only put my email down because I hate talking on the phone to strangers and I really didn’t even feel comfortable giving my phone out to people I didn’t know. Especially on Craigslist. 

Now after a few days, I just so happened to be reading through a bit of history about our town, I’m a total history nerd, same with my sister. That’s something we had in common. The article was about the disappearance of a prominent family. I ended up sending her the article. Anyway, as I read I got the notification that I received an email. It was from a couple who lived out in the fringes of town. They were offering to pay me a lot of money to watch their baby boy. It was an offer I couldn’t refuse. 

My sister drove me out to their house and dropped me off the night they needed me. The driveway was long and wove through the woods. With the overgrowth of trees, it made it almost feel like we drove through a tunnel. As we reached the house, it was beautiful. It had one of those wrap-around front porches with white siding. It was two stories. I walked up to the front door while my sister waited in the driveway. I knocked on the door and after a few minutes, I was greeted by a beautiful middle-aged woman. She had steel blue eyes and long wavy hair. She welcomed me in with a great big smile and introduced herself along with her husband as Health and Viviana Palmer. The names sounded vaguely familiar. Her husband was a man about the same age with dark black hair and a salesmen-like perfect smile. 

I heard my sister drive off as they showed me to the baby’s room. The baby was fast asleep in his bed with a teddy bear in his arms. Mrs. Palmer gave me the rundown on the baby. It was the typical stuff, to check up on him every so often but for the most part, he should sleep through the night. 

Anyway, after a few last-minute notes, they got ready and took off. One thing that I found odd was I never heard them drive away. I brushed it off and went downstairs to watch a little TV. I have to admit this house is very clean and immaculate. They had a fireplace with the mantle decorated in little figurines. One, in particular, caught my eye, it was an owl. There wasn’t a speck of dust or a scratch on any surface. As I grabbed the remote and hit the power button, the tv wouldn’t turn on. After pressing it several times, I got up and tried turning it on through the button on the TV itself. It still wouldn’t turn on. Figures. I even checked to see if it was plugged in, which it was. 

I resigned to sit down and listen to an audiobook. Something really bugged me. I couldn’t stop thinking about where I heard their names before. I knew they sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. 

As I pondered their names, I heard a loud crash in the kitchen which nearly caused me to piss myself. I quickly got up to look at what the cause was and my heart sank into my stomach. Sitting on the floor with a bunch of knives was the baby. It was holding a really sharp knife and was about to cut himself when I bolted to him with only seconds to spare. The baby threw a hissy fit when I took the knife away from him. I tried to calm it but no matter what I did, I couldn’t get it to stop crying. I took him back up to his bedroom and placed him in his bed, hoping he would cry himself to sleep. I went back downstairs and cleaned up the knives in the kitchen. Just the thought of what could’ve happened if I was a second too slow left me in chills. 

The baby cried for over an hour. When it finally stopped I felt a small sense of relief. However, I decided to check up on it to make sure everything was okay. I’ll admit, the baby was kind of ugly. It was very wrinkly and looked almost sickly. As I crept into his room, I froze in my tracks. The baby was gone. All that was in his bed was a teddy bear. I felt my heartbeat quickening. 

This couldn’t be happening. If something happened to that baby, I would never forgive myself. I searched everywhere for that baby. As I searched, I started to notice something very odd. The house that was very immaculate when I arrived started to seem rather dirty. What was very odd was that dents and scratches started to appear on the walls and furniture where they previously weren’t. Things became very dusty. 

My phone vibrated. My sister sent me a text, asking me what the names of the people who hired me were. I sent her a text telling her their names. I didn’t really understand why she was so interested. I continued my search as I started to panic. I tore through the entire house which was starting to look even more shabby the more I searched. I heard a sudden creek downstairs. I rushed down there and found the door to the basement was open. That was the last place I wanted to go to. 

I reluctantly made my way down to my own dismay. Of course, the lights wouldn’t work. I pulled out my phone and turned the flashlight on. The basement was covered in cobwebs and dust. I received another text from my sister that made my skin crawl. She said I needed to get out of that house right now and she was on her way to come to get me. I asked her why. She sent me back the article I sent her a few days ago about the prominent family that went missing. Their names were Heath and Viviana Palmer and they had a baby named Dustin. They disappeared nearly 2 years ago for no apparent reason. They just vanished. I looked at the picture of the family and immediately recognized them as the same family that hired me. This couldn’t be real. 

I could hear my heart thumping wildly in my chest as I read this. I nearly tripped over something. I looked down on the floor and saw two decayed, rotting corpses. I screamed as loud as I could. I recognized them immediately Mr. and Mrs. Palmer. And that’s when I finally found the baby…

He was dead on the floor next to them, just a rotting corpse. I could feel myself getting sick as I raced back up the stairs. Before I could get there, the door slammed shut, leaving me in the dark. I tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. I started crying uncontrollably. 

“Don’t leave!” I heard the voice of Mr. Palmer as a light to the basement flickered on. I thought to myself, this is how I’m going to die… By ghosts, I don’t even believe in. 

“Please, we need your help,” Mrs. Palmer said. 

I stumbled down the stairs, my feet felt like they were moving of their own accord. Standing there in the middle of the Basement were Mr. and Mrs. Palmer. Viviana Palmer was holding her baby. I looked on the floor to see their dead bodies lying behind them.

“You’re not going to kill me are you?” I asked.

“No, we need your help,” she says. 

“We were murdered,” Mr. Palmer said. I can’t believe I’m having a conversation with dead people. 

“Please, just let me go, I’ll do whatever you want,” I pleaded with them. 

“Help us. Please help us,” the woman said. She pleaded with me. 

“I don’t know how,” I said, as tears fell from my eyes. 

“You can help us. Please. Find the bear and the owl. They have the truth,” Mr. Palmer pleaded. Then the light flickered off again and the door to the basement opened. Their ghosts were gone. I ran upstairs to find the house in shambles. Everything seemed to be broken. The wood was rotting. Dust and cobwebs covered everything.

I saw headlights outside and my sister texted me she was here. I was about to run out and leave this place forever, but I couldn’t get the look of their faces out of my head. They were so sad. What did they mean by look for the bear and the owl? I looked around and nearly screamed at the sight of dried blood on the dirty carpet. That’s when it clicked. The owl. I looked over to the mantle and found the owl figurine. Surely this is what he meant. I rushed over to grab it and sure enough, it was a hidden camera. I popped out the SD card in the back. Now the bear. I knew exactly what he meant. Where else would you put a hidden camera if not for the baby’s room? I rushed upstairs to find the teddy bear and sure enough, it too was a camera. I took it with me as I ran out of the house and got into my sister’s car. 

“I was so fucking worried you were dead when I pulled up to find this beaten-down house in shambles. It was in mint condition when I dropped you off. What the hell is going on?” she asked.

“Do you have something that can read an SD card at home?” I asked her. 

She nodded. “Why? And what’s with the dusty teddy bear? Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” 

“Just drive! I’ll explain it on the way home,” I said. 

I told her all about the Palmers and every little weird thing that happened to me in that house as we drove back home. Once we arrived home, we rushed into my sister’s room and I handed her the SD card that was in the owl. She put it in her computer and it was filled with videos. We pulled up the first one and it was of Mr. Palmer.

“I’ve decided to put this hidden camera in here because I do not trust our babysitter. I think she’s stealing from us but my wife thinks she’s an angel,” he said to the camera. “This will prove everything. I also need to figure out how Dustin is getting out. No matter what we do, he manages to somehow escape his crib.”

We watched through the videos and sure enough, their babysitter was stealing from them, but I don’t think that’s what we were meant to find. We continued watching. Then we saw it. Both of our jaws dropped. I felt my stomach get tied up in knots. Mr. and Mrs. Palmer was with another man. I recognized him. 

“That’s… That’s dad’s boss. The Mayor. Brayden Palmer,” my sister said as he pulled out a gun and shot them. He killed them in cold blood. 

“What the hell?” I asked. 

“Aren’t they brothers?” she asked. I shrugged. “I know they are. Didn’t you read that article you sent me? It said that Heath and Brayden were supposed to inherit a lot of money, but when Heath disappeared it all went to his brother Brayden. He killed them to get the entire fortune.”

“It all makes sense now,” I said. We watched Brayden drag their bodies out of the living room and most likely downstairs where I found them. 

Then we plugged in the other SD card and what we saw was downright sickening. He killed their baby. He suffocated him. That’s truly terrible. I couldn’t hold it. I rushed to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet. 

My sister and I showed my parents everything. I couldn’t exactly explain to them how I got the SD cards. No one would believe me if I told them I was hired by ghosts to watch their dead baby, so we told them a lie about finding the old house and exploring it. They bought it because that’s totally something my sister would do. They took the SD cards to the police the next day Mayor Palmer was arrested and it was all over the news that Brayden Palmer had been charged with the murder of Heath, Viviana, and Dustin Palmer. 

I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Eliza and I drove back out to that house a few weeks later and we both saw them. They were standing on the porch. Viviana was holding baby Dustin with Heath by their side. They were smiling as they watched their baby boy. They looked up at us and waved. Then they were gone. I’d like to think they found some semblance of peace together. 

I still have a hard time bringing myself to believe what had actually happened, but I will never forget it. Ghosts do exist.

The End.

Remember, you’re never safe in the dark…

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