August 14, 2025 • 33 mins
Join us as we dive into a gripping narrative that unveils the thrilling yet chilling experiences of college life. In this episode, we explore the dynamic friendship between Lynn and her fearless roommate, River, who turns the mundane into extraordinary adventures. From the exhilarating energy of late-night frat parties to the unsettling encounters with mysterious classmates, every moment teeters on the edge of excitement and danger. Amidst the vibrant backdrop of campus life, a series of suspicious deaths labeled as suicides casts a dark shadow, raising questions about justice and hidden truths. The tension intensifies with a shocking discovery—River's secret collection of student ID cards—prompting Lynn to confront the haunting possibility of her friend's involvement in the gruesome events. Through the lens of companionship, personal growth, and the mysteries lurking in the shadows, we navigate the complex web of emotions and intrigue that envelops their college experience. Tune in for a story that challenges the boundaries of trust and survival in a world where every secret could be your last.
Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/nighttime-scary-tales--6704938/support.
Welcome to another episode of the Nighttime Scary Tales Podcast, where we explore the dark side of storytelling. Tonight, prepare for spine-chilling tales featuring original horror stories, eerie supernatural encounters, and real-life crime that reveals the darker aspects of human nature. Each story is designed to keep you on the edge of your seat long after it ends. We’d love to hear your thoughts! Share your most chilling moments by leaving a review on your favorite podcast platform. More haunting stories are coming, so keep your lights on and your doors locked. Sweet dreams… if you can find them!
Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/nighttime-scary-tales--6704938/support.
Welcome to another episode of the Nighttime Scary Tales Podcast, where we explore the dark side of storytelling. Tonight, prepare for spine-chilling tales featuring original horror stories, eerie supernatural encounters, and real-life crime that reveals the darker aspects of human nature. Each story is designed to keep you on the edge of your seat long after it ends. We’d love to hear your thoughts! Share your most chilling moments by leaving a review on your favorite podcast platform. More haunting stories are coming, so keep your lights on and your doors locked. Sweet dreams… if you can find them!
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:07):
Hey, y'all, Welcome to the Tattler Square Podcast, an extraordinary
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and astonishing stories, with each episode offering a distinctive point
of view and enlightening perspectives on life. Feels something unprecedented
(00:31):
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Speaker 2 (00:49):
I met River last year during my first year of college.
I'm a second year now. We were assigned as lab
partners for a bioclass we had together first semester. River
was nice, nice, polite, friendly, outgoing. She was a math
major and clearly didn't want to be taking a bio class.
It was a bio one on one class for first years,
and River was two years ahead of me, so she
(01:11):
was really just taking it to phillip some credits. Anyway,
My point is the impression she made on me was
pretty good. We had another class together the next semester,
this time in Lfit basically like a gym class. It
only gives you one credit, but everyone asked to take
one to graduate. She seemed happy to see me and
(01:31):
we started talking lfit classes are stupid. You don't do
anything useful. You walk laps and play basketball or Phillip
works sheets about muscles and crap. So basically, River and
I had a lot of time to goof around during class.
Over the course of the semester, I got to know
her pretty well. I think eventually we started hanging out
(01:53):
after school. River never really opened up about her home life.
Our whole campus was on a quarantine lockdown anyway, so
I guess she didn't think it mattered. I'm not going
to see my family until the end of the semester. Anyway.
She would tell me, why talk about it? I shrugged
fair enough, and now was that she helped me navigate
my first year of college, and honestly, I don't think
(02:15):
I would have made it through without her. So naturally,
I asked if she wanted to room with me this year,
and she agreed. Although she told me she could be difficult.
I told her it was fine, I didn't mind having
a difficult roommate, and that she could make it up
to me by helping me get around campus and talk
to people and stuff. I have a really bad social anxiety.
So sometimes River est to step in on my behalf.
(02:39):
So yeah, River is a difficult roommate. I'll admit that
she doesn't take out her trash on time, she doesn't
fold laundry, she doesn't ever make her bed. She brings
random tender dates home all the time. She does tell
me ahead of time, and if I say not to
then she won't. But I don't want to be the
fun police. River has a vibrant social life. I don't.
(03:03):
It's okay. I guess I have a couple of acquaintances,
but nobody I would say I'm close to except River.
She is a terrible roommate, I will admit. But whenever
I call on her, or ask her to come to
an appointment with me, or help me draft an email
to a professor, or when I just feel lonely and
(03:23):
miserable and need a friend, she is always here for me. Always.
I try not to demand too much from her, but honestly,
she doesn't seem to mind anyway. About three weeks ago,
things started not adding up. It all started the night
of the party. So yeah, it was a frat party.
I told her River I wanted to go. I still
(03:45):
don't know why. Really, I just wanted to feel alive,
I guess, and do something besides just class work and
being depressed. And also I had never been to a
party before. When I told her, River raised an eyebrow
at me and gave me a grin. Damn, really, Lynn
Foster going to a party. Oh, I've got to see this.
(04:07):
The party was around nine. It was a Friday night,
so it would probably go well and well into the morning. Still,
I found myself nervously showering and getting ready well before that,
since my class ended at three on Fridays and I
had no other plans. After I had showered, applied my makeup,
and done my hair, I figured I was looking pretty good.
(04:27):
I didn't have any dresses or anything to wear, so
I just wore a T shirt and shorts, you know,
like a sexy casual look or something. Hell, I don't know.
At eight thirty, River met me in front of our
dorm building, giving me an approving once over. Damn in
looking good, I smiled, Yeah, you think guys will like it.
(04:49):
River rolled her eyes. She had never dated men, and
I could tell she didn't particularly like them in general.
I think it's because of her home life, but I'm
not sure the guy. Please, Yeah, she scoffed, The guys
will like it as you say. I didn't like the
way that she said that, but I knew she meant
(05:09):
what she said good. I looked good, of course, next
to her, I looked fairly drab. River never wore makeup,
she told me she didn't like it, didn't even own any,
and yet she still always looked stunning. She never really
wore anything fancy. I don't know how she always looked
like a model. It's ridiculous. Anyway, That day was no different.
(05:31):
She looked breathtaking. She wore a tank top which was
just tight enough that her abs were clearly visible underneath it,
under a leather jacket unzipped, with dark colored jeans tight
enough to show off her legs but loose enough to
be comfortable, and combat boots underneath. Her keys and pepper
spray were clipped to her belt. And I know she
(05:51):
always hides a switch blade in her foot. I had
never seen River dress up for anyone as long as
I had known her, and that night was no except
tank top, jeans, leather jacket, classic River. Even though it
was eight thirty, the sun was still up. River's midnight
black hair fell down to her waist in full, thick,
(06:12):
glossy waves, and in the waning sunlight, I could have
sworn her light brown skin glowed just a little bit
like polished a bronze, I found myself thinking. She turned
towards me, raising her eyebrows as I stared at her.
You good, Uh yeah, I replied, snapping out of my reverie. Good.
(06:33):
Let's go eat something, then we get into the fraance.
Sound all right, I nodded, watching the dying sunlight illuminate
her cheekbones and razor sharp jawline. Sounds like a plan,
I mumbled, and so we did. It was Friday evening
and all the restaurants around campus were pretty full, so
eventually River and I found ourselves at a little bar
(06:53):
next to an overfilled and understaffed waffle house. Looks like
if we want food, this is where we're gonna have
to get it, she told me apologetically. I sighed, following
her into the bar, which seemed suspiciously empty. I wanted
us to go sit in the corner by ourselves, but
River walked straight up to the bar. To my surprise,
(07:14):
she ordered normal food and water instead of alcohol. I
sat next door tentively ordering some Generica burger with fries.
The bartender walked into the back to get stuff, and
we were left alone, well besides the other few people
in the bar. I guess you didn't want to drink,
I asked her. I don't drink at parties. She told me, simply.
(07:36):
Isn't that the entire point? River chuckled. I don't go
to parties in general. If I want to have a
good time, I hang up with a friend or open
up tender. Why do you, of all people, want to
go to one, I sighed, shrugging, tired of being alone,
I guess, River shook her head as the bartender returned
with two plates before going to tend into another customer.
(07:59):
You're not alonely, and there are better ways to do this,
you know, better ways to have a fun night. You
don't have to go to a frat party and get wasted.
I knew that, of course, but I wanted to do this.
I felt like I had to. I mean, it's part
of the college experience, right, I told River, as much
as she chuckled the experience. Huh, all right, well, I
(08:21):
hope you have fun, then, I turned towards her, taking
a bite of my burger. Aren't you coming? She nodded, yeah,
but it ain't really my thing. I don't like frat boys,
I giggled, taking another bite of my burger. You don't
like any boys, Riv, she shrugged, taking a sip of water.
(08:42):
I consider that a blessing, honestly. I raised an eyebrow,
but said nothing for a moment, and then, of course
I asked why. River took a moment before replying, I
don't have good experiences with men. I know there's good
ones out there and all that, but since I'm not
attracted to that, I don't really care about finding one.
(09:03):
I think trying to find a genuinely good guy is
like looking for a needle in twenty haystacks. You know,
with women, it's like five or ten haystacks. Maybe seems
more convenient to being too men. Though I told her
easier to find a partner, she shrugged. Quality over quantity,
han was all she said. We ate in silence for
(09:28):
a few minutes before a stranger walked into the bar,
plopping himself down next to River. There were at least
five other free seats at the bar, and he had
chosen that one. I hope you wouldn't try to flirt
with her. Guys usually don't, honestly, Apparently some of them
don't like women with muscle or with rivers personality. She
is intimidating if you don't know her. I guess she's
(09:50):
always way out of their leagues usually, and I think
she knows it. Say there, said the guy. His voice
was slurred and he was clearly drunk. You come here often.
I haven't seen you in here before. River gave him
an indifferent shrug. First time, she replied, I can see
why nobody comes here. This place sucks. The bartender shot
(10:13):
her a glare, and she smiled apologetically. The guy chuckled,
sucks so much? Then, why are you still here? You
want to get out of here? Maybe no, thanks, she
replied evenly. Why don't you check another bar? The guy sighed.
He sounded disappointed and very very drunk. Listen, I just
(10:35):
really love your hair, you know, it looks really soft.
I almost choked in my water holding in a laugh.
This guy was really trying and doing a terrible job too.
Felt kind of bad for him, but he was being
a bit of a creep. Then he reached out and
grabbed a fist full of rivers hair. Not fast or violently,
(10:56):
he kind of just reached out and grabbed some. I
wanted to run his fingers through it. Immediately, I felt
River tense beside me. Don't touch me, was all she said.
Her voice was emotionless, cold as steel. The guy giggled.
I tried flagging down the bartender or something, but she
suddenly wasn't there. Neither was the bouncer, which definitely struck
(11:20):
me as odd. The drunk man laughed and yanked at
River's hair, roughly grabbing a fistful of it. Then he
pulled her towards him, reaching around with his other arm
to grope at her chest. Ah hell, what's all? I
could think. If there's one thing River hates more than anything,
it's being touched in any way without her permission, especially
(11:41):
by strangers, and double especially by men. All the tension
in River's body was released in one fluid movement. It
happened so fast that I didn't even see her move. Really.
One second she was there in the man's grasp, and
the next she wasn't. I saw her legs move them,
kicking her stool backwards and in the man's stomach, while
(12:03):
their other legs stayed firmly on the ground. She was
balancing on it, I realized later. The man let go
of hers the stool hit him in the gut, and
there was a soft click as River's switchblade flicked open.
I hadn't even seen her get it out of her boot,
but there it was. And by now everyone in the
bar was staring, but oddly enough, nobody moved. River was kneeling.
(12:26):
The man was on the floor with fear in his
eyes and a knife at his chin. Her knee was
on his chest, and she was holding a fist full
of his hair with one hand and her switchblade in
the other, the tip touching just below his chin. Touch
anyone like that ever again, and I'll get you like
a fish. Do you understand? Her voice was calm and
even cold as eyes. The man choked out an answer
(12:48):
that I couldn't hear. It seemed to satisfy a River.
She stood up, closing her switchblade and turning back toward me.
Come on, Lynn, she said, in a friendly voice, as
though nothing had just happened. We're leaving. It was not
a request. River was leaving now. Whether I went with
her or not, so I followed her. I sure didn't
(13:10):
want to be alone with the drunk guy anyway. As
soon as we walked out the door, I heard conversation
resuming the bar completely casually. It was like nothing had happened.
It was as though they hadn't even seen a man
get threatened with literal death in front of them. You
wouldn't really gut him, would you, I asked, uncertainly. Also,
(13:33):
what if someone calls the police? River scoffed. Nobody's going
to call the policeman. A guy harassed me and I
defended myself. That's all there is to it. I nodded uneasily,
and I had a feeling that although what River said
was true, there was something I was missing here. Something
was wrong. Why had the bartender and the bouncer vanished.
(13:55):
Why didn't anybody move a muscle the entire time? Why
didn't anyone seem to see what was happening? Something was off,
and I didn't know what. Still, I trusted River. She
had never given me a reason not to. Anyway. As
we arrived at the frattouse, I tried to put it
all out of my mind. I was here to have
(14:16):
a good time. To feel alive, to not be alone.
The first couple hours were completely uneventful, but kind of nice.
I danced to music that was too loud, drinking far
more alcohol than I should have been, and I had
more confidence than I ever had. The River had disappeared somewhere,
probably screwing some girls she met at this party. I
thought people around me were kissing, groping, smoking weed. It
(14:42):
was a fairly tame party, honestly, but it was the
wildest thing I've ever done in my cookie cutter life.
Then I found John, or rather he found me. He
sat next to me in my chemglass. He was looking cute.
I mean, maybe it was the alcohol talking, but he
looked fine as hell. Hey, Lynn, I sit next to
(15:04):
you and Kim. I didn't know you were the partying type,
he laughed. We made small talk for a bit until
my beer ran out. Don't worry, girl, I'll get you
a new one, was all John said, And then he
was gone. He brought me a fresh bottle, and we
kept talking, and then it turned into flirting, and then
he kissed me. You want to get out of here?
(15:24):
I nodded before he even finished the sentence, So we
walked out of the party hand in hand. Then I
started to feel sick, lightheaded, dizzy, headpounding, nauseous kind of sick.
I stumbled against a wall, suddenly realizing I didn't actually
recognize where we were. I had been too busy looking
at John. My vision was fading in and out. I
(15:47):
was terrified. What the hell happened? Had someone spiked my drink?
Had John? No, he wouldn't right. My sight had faded
to black entirely, and I couldn't move. Two sets of
strong hands lifted me up and carried my limp body
for a few minutes before I heard the sound of
a car unknocking. Just don't burn the trunk. It was
(16:10):
John's voice. I wanted to throw up. This can't be happening,
I thought, And then I was tossed into the trunk
of a car like a sack of trash, and I
passed out. I woke up in a dorm room. I
was lying on the floor naked. I didn't recognize the
beds or the furniture, but I knew I was at
(16:30):
least still on campus. Looking around groggly, I tried to
find my clothes and failed. I have to call the police,
I thought, I have to find my phone. I vomited
onto the ground several times as I tried to stand up,
and my ears were ringing constantly. My clothes were nowhere
to be seen. I did find my phone, though the
(16:52):
screen was shattered, the case cracked in two, and the
sim card lay outside next to it in a heap
of broken pieces, as though someone had taken a hammer
to it. I tried opening the door to the room
to no avail. Obviously, head still spinning, I pounded on
the door, now particularly expecting it to work. To my surprise,
(17:13):
a voice outside called out, Hey, you're right in there.
Call the police, Call the damn cops. Right. I devolved
into a coughing fit, collapsing to the ground as the
ringing in my ears intensified. Oh damn it, there's a
girl trapped in there. It was a different voice, then
muffled conversation. Yeah, there's a girl trapped in our building.
(17:37):
She's a kidnapped. I think, look, just you need to
get over here. I heard someone speaking on the phone indistinctly,
it's an emergency. I swear to god, you piece of
a pause hung up on me. Thinks I'm bullshitting you.
Guys have to call too, otherwise the cops won't do anything.
(18:00):
That voice, I would recognize it anywhere. It made my
heart drop into my stomach and turned my insides to lead. John. Listen,
you guys need to get out of here, John was saying,
and then his voice dropped and all I heard were
muffled whispers. Okay, okay. It was the first voice, the
(18:22):
one who originally asked me if I was all right.
A second later, the door was flung open, throwing me backwards.
The hallway was empty. Nobody was there now but John. Hey, Lenny,
He snarled, You thought you were so smart yelling for
help the second you woke up. The goddamn cops could
have been here any second. And ugh, He let out
(18:44):
a frustrated growl before backhanding me across the face. In
my current state, I couldn't even react to the pain
beyond letting out a small whimper. God damn it, John
was muttering, night, you bitch handed me again, and I
felt blood trickled down the side of my face as
(19:04):
bolts of white hot pain shot through my head. Two
guys walked into the room, leering down at me. Standing up,
John turned to them, pick her up. We need to
move her now. How is she even awake? Man, though
you said twenty four hours? I don't know, Greg, I
don't know. Just move. Two familiar sets of hands picked
(19:26):
me up, and I passed out again. The next time
I awoke, my head felt much clearer. It wasn't throbbing
or ringing anymore. At least, I was in another dorm room,
identical to the last. I screamed as I sat up,
seeing a man standing just a few feet from me. Hey, Hey,
I'm Greg. Okay, listen, I know you hate me, okay,
(19:46):
but I'm here to help John doesn't even know him here.
I spat at him, unable to move much. My body
still felt sluggish and numb. I just wanted to give
you this, Greg told me. He handed me a phone,
a phone. I stared up at him, disbelieving he didn't
meet my daze. I'm sorry, was all he said. He
(20:08):
walked out of the room, not closing the door behind him.
I stood up shakily and found my clothes lying on
a bench beside me. I put them on as fast
as my shaky, spasming body would allow before leaving the building.
Thank God, I didn't run into John. On the way out,
I found myself in an area I recognized one of
the smaller dorms on the outskirts of campus. I tried
(20:31):
calling nine one one, but nobody answered? Is that even possible?
How could nobody answer? Whatever? I didn't have time to
think about it. I knew that, feeling the way I did,
I couldn't walk to the campus hospital. I would pass
out long before that. So I made a bee line
for my dorm, needing to go somewhere familiar, somewhere safe.
(20:54):
It was fairly close, and I was reasonably confident that
I could make it, and I did barely. It was
around six am, so nobody was really around to see me.
Thank god for that. I found my key card, it's
still in my jeans pocket, and I made my way
back to my room, shaking violently. Walking in, I found
the room empty. River's bed was cold and unmade, meaning
(21:15):
she hadn't slept here last night. Wait, River, damn it,
she's probably looking for me. I thought she had completely
escaped my mind until now, and I suddenly realized just
how badly I needed to not be alone, how badly
I needed a friend, how badly I needed someone to
be there for me. How badly I needed River. I
(21:39):
picked up my phone with shaking hands, dialing River's number.
She probably wouldn't pick up at six am, I figured,
but she did. She picked up on the first ring,
Lynn River. I choked out. My voice broke and I
began sobbing. River, I need you here, come back. I
couldn't say anything. I couldn't find the words. I began sobbing,
(22:02):
saying nothing. I'm coming. Stay on the phone. Okay, you
hear me, Stay on the phone. I couldn't hear much
on the other end. After that, I lay on the
ground in a feudal position, sobbing. Maybe ten minutes later
River bust through the door in jeans and the tank top.
Where was her jacket? I didn't ask her. Light chonkled
(22:23):
of brown eyes flashed in the dim light of our room,
looking around frantically until they landed on me, curled up
in the middle of the floor. I sat up feebly,
and River's expression darkened. Who did this to you? I sobbed,
saying nothing. River didn't ask me again and staid She
sat down next to me, purted her arms around me,
(22:43):
tucked a strand of her hair behind my ear and
pulled me close to her. For the first time since
this entire incident, I actually felt safe. River just held
me for a while. Neither of us said anything. I
didn't know what to say, and River didn't either. Eventually,
River went out and brought me some food and water
(23:05):
and told me I had been gone for two full days.
The next day I told her what had happened. She
seemed quite upset that I had left the party with
John without telling her, and I guess she had a
right to be. It was stupid. I went to the
police with River, but they told us it was all
just hearsay. John had washed me thoroughly and there was
(23:25):
no trace of his DNA left on me or in me.
I guess I should say no trace, but the constant
pain between my legs and the bruises and cuts all
over my body. The police didn't give a shit. They
gave me a form that fell out and went me
on my way. I told them to search the buildings,
(23:45):
and they told me they already had and found absolutely nothing.
River hadn't said much the whole time. Her expression told
me that this was about what she had expected. Later
that night, River asked me something that should have thrown
up some red flags but didn't not at the time.
What's John's last name? Smith? I replied, Okay, that was it. Okay,
(24:09):
that was all she said. The next day, that was
when it got weird. That's when people started dying. Gerald
Zeno was the first a suicide. The school paper said,
normal enough college students commit suicide all the time, nothing
super noteworthy. I guess that's messed up. I remember thinking,
without giving it any more thought until I saw the
(24:32):
picture above the short article. It was the guy that
harassed River in the bar the other night. I was
sure of it. He looked better dressed and better groomed,
but it was definitely him in the picture. I didn't
draw the connection. Not then, weird coincidence, I thought. Skimming
the article, I noted that it said he had lipped
off the roof of one of the taller dorm buildings,
(24:54):
that his neck and spine had been fractured or shattered
in several places, killing him instantly. However, the thing they
couldn't explain was how his stomach got sliced open during
the fall. Maybe he hit a metal beam, maybe he
hit a tree or something. Whatever, the case, his stomach
was sliced open, and his intestines and entrails were splaid
(25:15):
out all around him, splattering everywhere. When he landed, it
looked like he had been gutted. That was the gist, anyway,
But the paper would never write that. Our school could
never write that. They never wrote anything as graphic as that,
And how could they rule out a suicide if the
man had literally been gutted, wait, gutted. I should have
(25:39):
put this together earlier. I thought, if you ever touch
anyone like that ever again, they'll get you like a fish.
But there was no way right. River. River couldn't do
this right. I asked other people about the article and
the suicide that day, and some people agreed it was weird,
(26:00):
but nobody seemed to see it is just wrong. A
man was gutted by a tree branch or a metal beam. Seriously,
nobody seemed to give a shit, and the school paper
had literally printed this graphic, gory description. None of this
made any sense, and they found another body the next day,
Greg Simmons. They said. The name was As soon as
(26:23):
I read Greg, I knew what I was going to see. Yep,
the picture was definitely the guy who gave me the
phone and helped me escape from John. He was found
hanged in his apartment. The article said his stomach was
sliced open, his intestines removed entirely. Apparently the wall behind
him also said I'm so sorry, scrawled in his own blood.
(26:45):
As for what he was hanged with, it wasn't a rope,
it was his own intestines. The article concluded that it
was bizarre, but ultimately said he was just a nutcase.
He went crazy and did it to himself. That nobody
would buy that, But when I talked to people, nobody
seemed to care. Nobody. River, for her part, was completely
(27:09):
unfazed by the entire thing. If she really is the
one doing all this, then she's damn good at hiding it.
To suicides in two days. This should have should have
been a big deal, I think. But no nothing, no
cops anywhere, no media, no news, nothing. It was as
though nothing had happened at all. Memories were coming back
(27:30):
to me about the two days I was drugged out,
and they weren't pleasant. Honestly, when I remembered what they
had done to me, How did they done it? I
can't say I really mourn any of their deaths, even Greg.
He may have helped me escape in the end, but
he had had his share of fun with me beforehand,
for sure. Yeah, there was nothing to mourn. Then there
(27:54):
was a third death. I forget his name, but he
was definitely the other guy who was with John. I
remembered him being the roughest with me, actually rougher even
than John. He caused most of the bruises. Piece of shit. Well,
John used the knife and that guy used his fists,
So I don't know who I hate more really, Either way,
(28:14):
both of them had used me in horrible, terrible ways,
And the more my memories returned, the more I felt
like this series of killings, sorry, suicides, wasn't particularly undeserved.
I honestly can't say I felt any remorse when I
read about that guy's death, despite how brutal it was.
(28:35):
They said he walked into the middle of the highway
and got hit by an eighteen wheeler suicide. Of course,
but we can't leave campus during quarantine in the nearest
highways at least five miles from campus, So how is
his body found in his dorm room in his bed?
The article said it was odd the way. He was
now almost like he had been run over repeatedly. His
(28:55):
bones had been ground into a fine powder, and as
though someone had taken the time to slowly put different
parts of his body under some sort of hydraulic press,
slowly and methodically grinding his bones to dust, turning the
body into nothing but a pool of bloody powder and
shredded flesh. They said the head was the only part
not crushed. Whatever had happened had started at the feet
(29:17):
and worked its way up. They wanted him to be
alive and conscious right until the end. Then over the
next few days there were a few guys I had
never heard of, all killed in similarly gruesome ways, all
ruled as suicides, all swept under the rug is no
big deal. And then the most recent one, John, he
(29:40):
just died yesterday. His death wasn't ruled a suicide. Unlike
all the others. John had been castrated then apparently immediately
had they encounterized with hot iron. Same for his toes,
his fingers, his legs, his arms, even his tongue. John
had been left as nothing but a ridiculous torsa with
no t still alive. They say that he was alive
(30:03):
for almost one week in that state. He had been
tortured throughout the entire two weeks. The others were all
found and then left for dead afterwards for a week.
That was the theory. They found him in a stall
in the woman's bathroom somewhere in the arts building. He
was upside down with its head stuck in the toilet.
Because of death was at first drowning. They found his
(30:26):
fingers and toes later that day, all in a trash
bag left outside his old dorm room with a note
that simply read, remember to take out your trash. As hypothesized,
all limbs were severed at all joints. His fingers were
cut into three knuckle pieces, and his toes too. His
legs were cut at the knees and so on. You
(30:47):
get the idea. Yeah. One thing that wasn't found though
his penis, and then they found it lodged in his
drowned throat, blocking his windpipe. The cause of death was
changed from drown to asphyxiation. I probably threw up three
times reading that article, but at the same time some
part of me was relieved or relief he was gone,
(31:10):
that he was really dead. Nobody has been found today, though,
so I'm wondering if all the trash has been taken out.
But anyway, River is acting exactly the same as ever,
and I don't know how to feel about that. She's
worried and concerned and supportive. She asks all the right
questions and says all the right things. I know this
(31:32):
is going to sound crazy after all I've said, but
I swear to God she genuinely cares about me. Please, guys,
I need advice. I don't know what the hell to do.
I haven't even been to my classes in a month
because of this crap. Luckily I can submit assignments online.
I'm just so freaked out by how everyone's acting about it.
(31:53):
Please tell me I'm not crazy. That's all I want
to know. Really, I want to know that I'm not
going crazy. Well, just about ten minutes ago, I got
a bit of an answer. I was looking through rivers
clothes drawer snooping. I swear I was just looking from
one of my tight tops. I thought she accidentally put
(32:14):
in there, and I found a shoebox. I opened it
and several student ID cards fell out. I think you
can hazard a guess as to who's is my roommate,
Like dexter for rapists or something. Even if she is,
how can she manipulate the whole campus into seeing all
of these suicides except John, which was labeled as a
(32:36):
freak accident in spite of the clear references to human
torture as a normal thing. Also, should I be scared
of her because of the moment. I don't feel like
I'm in any danger at all. I mean, she was
super nice to me. One might even say we're best friends.
So what the hell do I do? Help me? Hey, y'all,
Hey, y'all, Welcome to the Tattler Square Podcast, an extraordinary
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(00:31):
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Speaker 2 (00:49):
I met River last year during my first year of college.
I'm a second year now. We were assigned as lab
partners for a bioclass we had together first semester. River
was nice, nice, polite, friendly, outgoing. She was a math
major and clearly didn't want to be taking a bio class.
It was a bio one on one class for first years,
and River was two years ahead of me, so she
(01:11):
was really just taking it to phillip some credits. Anyway,
My point is the impression she made on me was
pretty good. We had another class together the next semester,
this time in Lfit basically like a gym class. It
only gives you one credit, but everyone asked to take
one to graduate. She seemed happy to see me and
(01:31):
we started talking lfit classes are stupid. You don't do
anything useful. You walk laps and play basketball or Phillip
works sheets about muscles and crap. So basically, River and
I had a lot of time to goof around during class.
Over the course of the semester, I got to know
her pretty well. I think eventually we started hanging out
(01:53):
after school. River never really opened up about her home life.
Our whole campus was on a quarantine lockdown anyway, so
I guess she didn't think it mattered. I'm not going
to see my family until the end of the semester. Anyway.
She would tell me, why talk about it? I shrugged
fair enough, and now was that she helped me navigate
my first year of college, and honestly, I don't think
(02:15):
I would have made it through without her. So naturally,
I asked if she wanted to room with me this year,
and she agreed. Although she told me she could be difficult.
I told her it was fine, I didn't mind having
a difficult roommate, and that she could make it up
to me by helping me get around campus and talk
to people and stuff. I have a really bad social anxiety.
So sometimes River est to step in on my behalf.
(02:39):
So yeah, River is a difficult roommate. I'll admit that
she doesn't take out her trash on time, she doesn't
fold laundry, she doesn't ever make her bed. She brings
random tender dates home all the time. She does tell
me ahead of time, and if I say not to
then she won't. But I don't want to be the
fun police. River has a vibrant social life. I don't.
(03:03):
It's okay. I guess I have a couple of acquaintances,
but nobody I would say I'm close to except River.
She is a terrible roommate, I will admit. But whenever
I call on her, or ask her to come to
an appointment with me, or help me draft an email
to a professor, or when I just feel lonely and
(03:23):
miserable and need a friend, she is always here for me. Always.
I try not to demand too much from her, but honestly,
she doesn't seem to mind anyway. About three weeks ago,
things started not adding up. It all started the night
of the party. So yeah, it was a frat party.
I told her River I wanted to go. I still
(03:45):
don't know why. Really, I just wanted to feel alive,
I guess, and do something besides just class work and
being depressed. And also I had never been to a
party before. When I told her, River raised an eyebrow
at me and gave me a grin. Damn, really, Lynn
Foster going to a party. Oh, I've got to see this.
(04:07):
The party was around nine. It was a Friday night,
so it would probably go well and well into the morning. Still,
I found myself nervously showering and getting ready well before that,
since my class ended at three on Fridays and I
had no other plans. After I had showered, applied my makeup,
and done my hair, I figured I was looking pretty good.
(04:27):
I didn't have any dresses or anything to wear, so
I just wore a T shirt and shorts, you know,
like a sexy casual look or something. Hell, I don't know.
At eight thirty, River met me in front of our
dorm building, giving me an approving once over. Damn in
looking good, I smiled, Yeah, you think guys will like it.
(04:49):
River rolled her eyes. She had never dated men, and
I could tell she didn't particularly like them in general.
I think it's because of her home life, but I'm
not sure the guy. Please, Yeah, she scoffed, The guys
will like it as you say. I didn't like the
way that she said that, but I knew she meant
(05:09):
what she said good. I looked good, of course, next
to her, I looked fairly drab. River never wore makeup,
she told me she didn't like it, didn't even own any,
and yet she still always looked stunning. She never really
wore anything fancy. I don't know how she always looked
like a model. It's ridiculous. Anyway, That day was no different.
(05:31):
She looked breathtaking. She wore a tank top which was
just tight enough that her abs were clearly visible underneath it,
under a leather jacket unzipped, with dark colored jeans tight
enough to show off her legs but loose enough to
be comfortable, and combat boots underneath. Her keys and pepper
spray were clipped to her belt. And I know she
(05:51):
always hides a switch blade in her foot. I had
never seen River dress up for anyone as long as
I had known her, and that night was no except
tank top, jeans, leather jacket, classic River. Even though it
was eight thirty, the sun was still up. River's midnight
black hair fell down to her waist in full, thick,
(06:12):
glossy waves, and in the waning sunlight, I could have
sworn her light brown skin glowed just a little bit
like polished a bronze, I found myself thinking. She turned
towards me, raising her eyebrows as I stared at her.
You good, Uh yeah, I replied, snapping out of my reverie. Good.
(06:33):
Let's go eat something, then we get into the fraance.
Sound all right, I nodded, watching the dying sunlight illuminate
her cheekbones and razor sharp jawline. Sounds like a plan,
I mumbled, and so we did. It was Friday evening
and all the restaurants around campus were pretty full, so
eventually River and I found ourselves at a little bar
(06:53):
next to an overfilled and understaffed waffle house. Looks like
if we want food, this is where we're gonna have
to get it, she told me apologetically. I sighed, following
her into the bar, which seemed suspiciously empty. I wanted
us to go sit in the corner by ourselves, but
River walked straight up to the bar. To my surprise,
(07:14):
she ordered normal food and water instead of alcohol. I
sat next door tentively ordering some Generica burger with fries.
The bartender walked into the back to get stuff, and
we were left alone, well besides the other few people
in the bar. I guess you didn't want to drink,
I asked her. I don't drink at parties. She told me, simply.
(07:36):
Isn't that the entire point? River chuckled. I don't go
to parties in general. If I want to have a
good time, I hang up with a friend or open
up tender. Why do you, of all people, want to
go to one, I sighed, shrugging, tired of being alone,
I guess, River shook her head as the bartender returned
with two plates before going to tend into another customer.
(07:59):
You're not alonely, and there are better ways to do this,
you know, better ways to have a fun night. You
don't have to go to a frat party and get wasted.
I knew that, of course, but I wanted to do this.
I felt like I had to. I mean, it's part
of the college experience, right, I told River, as much
as she chuckled the experience. Huh, all right, well, I
(08:21):
hope you have fun, then, I turned towards her, taking
a bite of my burger. Aren't you coming? She nodded, yeah,
but it ain't really my thing. I don't like frat boys,
I giggled, taking another bite of my burger. You don't
like any boys, Riv, she shrugged, taking a sip of water.
(08:42):
I consider that a blessing, honestly. I raised an eyebrow,
but said nothing for a moment, and then, of course
I asked why. River took a moment before replying, I
don't have good experiences with men. I know there's good
ones out there and all that, but since I'm not
attracted to that, I don't really care about finding one.
(09:03):
I think trying to find a genuinely good guy is
like looking for a needle in twenty haystacks. You know,
with women, it's like five or ten haystacks. Maybe seems
more convenient to being too men. Though I told her
easier to find a partner, she shrugged. Quality over quantity,
han was all she said. We ate in silence for
(09:28):
a few minutes before a stranger walked into the bar,
plopping himself down next to River. There were at least
five other free seats at the bar, and he had
chosen that one. I hope you wouldn't try to flirt
with her. Guys usually don't, honestly, Apparently some of them
don't like women with muscle or with rivers personality. She
is intimidating if you don't know her. I guess she's
(09:50):
always way out of their leagues usually, and I think
she knows it. Say there, said the guy. His voice
was slurred and he was clearly drunk. You come here often.
I haven't seen you in here before. River gave him
an indifferent shrug. First time, she replied, I can see
why nobody comes here. This place sucks. The bartender shot
(10:13):
her a glare, and she smiled apologetically. The guy chuckled,
sucks so much? Then, why are you still here? You
want to get out of here? Maybe no, thanks, she
replied evenly. Why don't you check another bar? The guy sighed.
He sounded disappointed and very very drunk. Listen, I just
(10:35):
really love your hair, you know, it looks really soft.
I almost choked in my water holding in a laugh.
This guy was really trying and doing a terrible job too.
Felt kind of bad for him, but he was being
a bit of a creep. Then he reached out and
grabbed a fist full of rivers hair. Not fast or violently,
(10:56):
he kind of just reached out and grabbed some. I
wanted to run his fingers through it. Immediately, I felt
River tense beside me. Don't touch me, was all she said.
Her voice was emotionless, cold as steel. The guy giggled.
I tried flagging down the bartender or something, but she
suddenly wasn't there. Neither was the bouncer, which definitely struck
(11:20):
me as odd. The drunk man laughed and yanked at
River's hair, roughly grabbing a fistful of it. Then he
pulled her towards him, reaching around with his other arm
to grope at her chest. Ah hell, what's all? I
could think. If there's one thing River hates more than anything,
it's being touched in any way without her permission, especially
(11:41):
by strangers, and double especially by men. All the tension
in River's body was released in one fluid movement. It
happened so fast that I didn't even see her move. Really.
One second she was there in the man's grasp, and
the next she wasn't. I saw her legs move them,
kicking her stool backwards and in the man's stomach, while
(12:03):
their other legs stayed firmly on the ground. She was
balancing on it, I realized later. The man let go
of hers the stool hit him in the gut, and
there was a soft click as River's switchblade flicked open.
I hadn't even seen her get it out of her boot,
but there it was. And by now everyone in the
bar was staring, but oddly enough, nobody moved. River was kneeling.
(12:26):
The man was on the floor with fear in his
eyes and a knife at his chin. Her knee was
on his chest, and she was holding a fist full
of his hair with one hand and her switchblade in
the other, the tip touching just below his chin. Touch
anyone like that ever again, and I'll get you like
a fish. Do you understand? Her voice was calm and
even cold as eyes. The man choked out an answer
(12:48):
that I couldn't hear. It seemed to satisfy a River.
She stood up, closing her switchblade and turning back toward me.
Come on, Lynn, she said, in a friendly voice, as
though nothing had just happened. We're leaving. It was not
a request. River was leaving now. Whether I went with
her or not, so I followed her. I sure didn't
(13:10):
want to be alone with the drunk guy anyway. As
soon as we walked out the door, I heard conversation
resuming the bar completely casually. It was like nothing had happened.
It was as though they hadn't even seen a man
get threatened with literal death in front of them. You
wouldn't really gut him, would you, I asked, uncertainly. Also,
(13:33):
what if someone calls the police? River scoffed. Nobody's going
to call the policeman. A guy harassed me and I
defended myself. That's all there is to it. I nodded uneasily,
and I had a feeling that although what River said
was true, there was something I was missing here. Something
was wrong. Why had the bartender and the bouncer vanished.
(13:55):
Why didn't anybody move a muscle the entire time? Why
didn't anyone seem to see what was happening? Something was off,
and I didn't know what. Still, I trusted River. She
had never given me a reason not to. Anyway. As
we arrived at the frattouse, I tried to put it
all out of my mind. I was here to have
(14:16):
a good time. To feel alive, to not be alone.
The first couple hours were completely uneventful, but kind of nice.
I danced to music that was too loud, drinking far
more alcohol than I should have been, and I had
more confidence than I ever had. The River had disappeared somewhere,
probably screwing some girls she met at this party. I
thought people around me were kissing, groping, smoking weed. It
(14:42):
was a fairly tame party, honestly, but it was the
wildest thing I've ever done in my cookie cutter life.
Then I found John, or rather he found me. He
sat next to me in my chemglass. He was looking cute.
I mean, maybe it was the alcohol talking, but he
looked fine as hell. Hey, Lynn, I sit next to
(15:04):
you and Kim. I didn't know you were the partying type,
he laughed. We made small talk for a bit until
my beer ran out. Don't worry, girl, I'll get you
a new one, was all John said, And then he
was gone. He brought me a fresh bottle, and we
kept talking, and then it turned into flirting, and then
he kissed me. You want to get out of here?
(15:24):
I nodded before he even finished the sentence, So we
walked out of the party hand in hand. Then I
started to feel sick, lightheaded, dizzy, headpounding, nauseous kind of sick.
I stumbled against a wall, suddenly realizing I didn't actually
recognize where we were. I had been too busy looking
at John. My vision was fading in and out. I
(15:47):
was terrified. What the hell happened? Had someone spiked my drink?
Had John? No, he wouldn't right. My sight had faded
to black entirely, and I couldn't move. Two sets of
strong hands lifted me up and carried my limp body
for a few minutes before I heard the sound of
a car unknocking. Just don't burn the trunk. It was
(16:10):
John's voice. I wanted to throw up. This can't be happening,
I thought, And then I was tossed into the trunk
of a car like a sack of trash, and I
passed out. I woke up in a dorm room. I
was lying on the floor naked. I didn't recognize the
beds or the furniture, but I knew I was at
(16:30):
least still on campus. Looking around groggly, I tried to
find my clothes and failed. I have to call the police,
I thought, I have to find my phone. I vomited
onto the ground several times as I tried to stand up,
and my ears were ringing constantly. My clothes were nowhere
to be seen. I did find my phone, though the
(16:52):
screen was shattered, the case cracked in two, and the
sim card lay outside next to it in a heap
of broken pieces, as though someone had taken a hammer
to it. I tried opening the door to the room
to no avail. Obviously, head still spinning, I pounded on
the door, now particularly expecting it to work. To my surprise,
(17:13):
a voice outside called out, Hey, you're right in there.
Call the police, Call the damn cops. Right. I devolved
into a coughing fit, collapsing to the ground as the
ringing in my ears intensified. Oh damn it, there's a
girl trapped in there. It was a different voice, then
muffled conversation. Yeah, there's a girl trapped in our building.
(17:37):
She's a kidnapped. I think, look, just you need to
get over here. I heard someone speaking on the phone indistinctly,
it's an emergency. I swear to god, you piece of
a pause hung up on me. Thinks I'm bullshitting you.
Guys have to call too, otherwise the cops won't do anything.
(18:00):
That voice, I would recognize it anywhere. It made my
heart drop into my stomach and turned my insides to lead. John. Listen,
you guys need to get out of here, John was saying,
and then his voice dropped and all I heard were
muffled whispers. Okay, okay. It was the first voice, the
(18:22):
one who originally asked me if I was all right.
A second later, the door was flung open, throwing me backwards.
The hallway was empty. Nobody was there now but John. Hey, Lenny,
He snarled, You thought you were so smart yelling for
help the second you woke up. The goddamn cops could
have been here any second. And ugh, He let out
(18:44):
a frustrated growl before backhanding me across the face. In
my current state, I couldn't even react to the pain
beyond letting out a small whimper. God damn it, John
was muttering, night, you bitch handed me again, and I
felt blood trickled down the side of my face as
(19:04):
bolts of white hot pain shot through my head. Two
guys walked into the room, leering down at me. Standing up,
John turned to them, pick her up. We need to
move her now. How is she even awake? Man, though
you said twenty four hours? I don't know, Greg, I
don't know. Just move. Two familiar sets of hands picked
(19:26):
me up, and I passed out again. The next time
I awoke, my head felt much clearer. It wasn't throbbing
or ringing anymore. At least, I was in another dorm room,
identical to the last. I screamed as I sat up,
seeing a man standing just a few feet from me. Hey, Hey,
I'm Greg. Okay, listen, I know you hate me, okay,
(19:46):
but I'm here to help John doesn't even know him here.
I spat at him, unable to move much. My body
still felt sluggish and numb. I just wanted to give
you this, Greg told me. He handed me a phone,
a phone. I stared up at him, disbelieving he didn't
meet my daze. I'm sorry, was all he said. He
(20:08):
walked out of the room, not closing the door behind him.
I stood up shakily and found my clothes lying on
a bench beside me. I put them on as fast
as my shaky, spasming body would allow before leaving the building.
Thank God, I didn't run into John. On the way out,
I found myself in an area I recognized one of
the smaller dorms on the outskirts of campus. I tried
(20:31):
calling nine one one, but nobody answered? Is that even possible?
How could nobody answer? Whatever? I didn't have time to
think about it. I knew that, feeling the way I did,
I couldn't walk to the campus hospital. I would pass
out long before that. So I made a bee line
for my dorm, needing to go somewhere familiar, somewhere safe.
(20:54):
It was fairly close, and I was reasonably confident that
I could make it, and I did barely. It was
around six am, so nobody was really around to see me.
Thank god for that. I found my key card, it's
still in my jeans pocket, and I made my way
back to my room, shaking violently. Walking in, I found
the room empty. River's bed was cold and unmade, meaning
(21:15):
she hadn't slept here last night. Wait, River, damn it,
she's probably looking for me. I thought she had completely
escaped my mind until now, and I suddenly realized just
how badly I needed to not be alone, how badly
I needed a friend, how badly I needed someone to
be there for me. How badly I needed River. I
(21:39):
picked up my phone with shaking hands, dialing River's number.
She probably wouldn't pick up at six am, I figured,
but she did. She picked up on the first ring,
Lynn River. I choked out. My voice broke and I
began sobbing. River, I need you here, come back. I
couldn't say anything. I couldn't find the words. I began sobbing,
(22:02):
saying nothing. I'm coming. Stay on the phone. Okay, you
hear me, Stay on the phone. I couldn't hear much
on the other end. After that, I lay on the
ground in a feudal position, sobbing. Maybe ten minutes later
River bust through the door in jeans and the tank top.
Where was her jacket? I didn't ask her. Light chonkled
(22:23):
of brown eyes flashed in the dim light of our room,
looking around frantically until they landed on me, curled up
in the middle of the floor. I sat up feebly,
and River's expression darkened. Who did this to you? I sobbed,
saying nothing. River didn't ask me again and staid She
sat down next to me, purted her arms around me,
(22:43):
tucked a strand of her hair behind my ear and
pulled me close to her. For the first time since
this entire incident, I actually felt safe. River just held
me for a while. Neither of us said anything. I
didn't know what to say, and River didn't either. Eventually,
River went out and brought me some food and water
(23:05):
and told me I had been gone for two full days.
The next day I told her what had happened. She
seemed quite upset that I had left the party with
John without telling her, and I guess she had a
right to be. It was stupid. I went to the
police with River, but they told us it was all
just hearsay. John had washed me thoroughly and there was
(23:25):
no trace of his DNA left on me or in me.
I guess I should say no trace, but the constant
pain between my legs and the bruises and cuts all
over my body. The police didn't give a shit. They
gave me a form that fell out and went me
on my way. I told them to search the buildings,
(23:45):
and they told me they already had and found absolutely nothing.
River hadn't said much the whole time. Her expression told
me that this was about what she had expected. Later
that night, River asked me something that should have thrown
up some red flags but didn't not at the time.
What's John's last name? Smith? I replied, Okay, that was it. Okay,
(24:09):
that was all she said. The next day, that was
when it got weird. That's when people started dying. Gerald
Zeno was the first a suicide. The school paper said,
normal enough college students commit suicide all the time, nothing
super noteworthy. I guess that's messed up. I remember thinking,
without giving it any more thought until I saw the
(24:32):
picture above the short article. It was the guy that
harassed River in the bar the other night. I was
sure of it. He looked better dressed and better groomed,
but it was definitely him in the picture. I didn't
draw the connection. Not then, weird coincidence, I thought. Skimming
the article, I noted that it said he had lipped
off the roof of one of the taller dorm buildings,
(24:54):
that his neck and spine had been fractured or shattered
in several places, killing him instantly. However, the thing they
couldn't explain was how his stomach got sliced open during
the fall. Maybe he hit a metal beam, maybe he
hit a tree or something. Whatever, the case, his stomach
was sliced open, and his intestines and entrails were splaid
(25:15):
out all around him, splattering everywhere. When he landed, it
looked like he had been gutted. That was the gist, anyway,
But the paper would never write that. Our school could
never write that. They never wrote anything as graphic as that,
And how could they rule out a suicide if the
man had literally been gutted, wait, gutted. I should have
(25:39):
put this together earlier. I thought, if you ever touch
anyone like that ever again, they'll get you like a fish.
But there was no way right. River. River couldn't do
this right. I asked other people about the article and
the suicide that day, and some people agreed it was weird,
(26:00):
but nobody seemed to see it is just wrong. A
man was gutted by a tree branch or a metal beam. Seriously,
nobody seemed to give a shit, and the school paper
had literally printed this graphic, gory description. None of this
made any sense, and they found another body the next day,
Greg Simmons. They said. The name was As soon as
(26:23):
I read Greg, I knew what I was going to see. Yep,
the picture was definitely the guy who gave me the
phone and helped me escape from John. He was found
hanged in his apartment. The article said his stomach was
sliced open, his intestines removed entirely. Apparently the wall behind
him also said I'm so sorry, scrawled in his own blood.
(26:45):
As for what he was hanged with, it wasn't a rope,
it was his own intestines. The article concluded that it
was bizarre, but ultimately said he was just a nutcase.
He went crazy and did it to himself. That nobody
would buy that, But when I talked to people, nobody
seemed to care. Nobody. River, for her part, was completely
(27:09):
unfazed by the entire thing. If she really is the
one doing all this, then she's damn good at hiding it.
To suicides in two days. This should have should have
been a big deal, I think. But no nothing, no
cops anywhere, no media, no news, nothing. It was as
though nothing had happened at all. Memories were coming back
(27:30):
to me about the two days I was drugged out,
and they weren't pleasant. Honestly, when I remembered what they
had done to me, How did they done it? I
can't say I really mourn any of their deaths, even Greg.
He may have helped me escape in the end, but
he had had his share of fun with me beforehand,
for sure. Yeah, there was nothing to mourn. Then there
(27:54):
was a third death. I forget his name, but he
was definitely the other guy who was with John. I
remembered him being the roughest with me, actually rougher even
than John. He caused most of the bruises. Piece of shit. Well,
John used the knife and that guy used his fists,
So I don't know who I hate more really, Either way,
(28:14):
both of them had used me in horrible, terrible ways,
And the more my memories returned, the more I felt
like this series of killings, sorry, suicides, wasn't particularly undeserved.
I honestly can't say I felt any remorse when I
read about that guy's death, despite how brutal it was.
(28:35):
They said he walked into the middle of the highway
and got hit by an eighteen wheeler suicide. Of course,
but we can't leave campus during quarantine in the nearest
highways at least five miles from campus, So how is
his body found in his dorm room in his bed?
The article said it was odd the way. He was
now almost like he had been run over repeatedly. His
(28:55):
bones had been ground into a fine powder, and as
though someone had taken the time to slowly put different
parts of his body under some sort of hydraulic press,
slowly and methodically grinding his bones to dust, turning the
body into nothing but a pool of bloody powder and
shredded flesh. They said the head was the only part
not crushed. Whatever had happened had started at the feet
(29:17):
and worked its way up. They wanted him to be
alive and conscious right until the end. Then over the
next few days there were a few guys I had
never heard of, all killed in similarly gruesome ways, all
ruled as suicides, all swept under the rug is no
big deal. And then the most recent one, John, he
(29:40):
just died yesterday. His death wasn't ruled a suicide. Unlike
all the others. John had been castrated then apparently immediately
had they encounterized with hot iron. Same for his toes,
his fingers, his legs, his arms, even his tongue. John
had been left as nothing but a ridiculous torsa with
no t still alive. They say that he was alive
(30:03):
for almost one week in that state. He had been
tortured throughout the entire two weeks. The others were all
found and then left for dead afterwards for a week.
That was the theory. They found him in a stall
in the woman's bathroom somewhere in the arts building. He
was upside down with its head stuck in the toilet.
Because of death was at first drowning. They found his
(30:26):
fingers and toes later that day, all in a trash
bag left outside his old dorm room with a note
that simply read, remember to take out your trash. As hypothesized,
all limbs were severed at all joints. His fingers were
cut into three knuckle pieces, and his toes too. His
legs were cut at the knees and so on. You
(30:47):
get the idea. Yeah. One thing that wasn't found though
his penis, and then they found it lodged in his
drowned throat, blocking his windpipe. The cause of death was
changed from drown to asphyxiation. I probably threw up three
times reading that article, but at the same time some
part of me was relieved or relief he was gone,
(31:10):
that he was really dead. Nobody has been found today, though,
so I'm wondering if all the trash has been taken out.
But anyway, River is acting exactly the same as ever,
and I don't know how to feel about that. She's
worried and concerned and supportive. She asks all the right
questions and says all the right things. I know this
(31:32):
is going to sound crazy after all I've said, but
I swear to God she genuinely cares about me. Please, guys,
I need advice. I don't know what the hell to do.
I haven't even been to my classes in a month
because of this crap. Luckily I can submit assignments online.
I'm just so freaked out by how everyone's acting about it.
(31:53):
Please tell me I'm not crazy. That's all I want
to know. Really, I want to know that I'm not
going crazy. Well, just about ten minutes ago, I got
a bit of an answer. I was looking through rivers
clothes drawer snooping. I swear I was just looking from
one of my tight tops. I thought she accidentally put
(32:14):
in there, and I found a shoebox. I opened it
and several student ID cards fell out. I think you
can hazard a guess as to who's is my roommate,
Like dexter for rapists or something. Even if she is,
how can she manipulate the whole campus into seeing all
of these suicides except John, which was labeled as a
(32:36):
freak accident in spite of the clear references to human
torture as a normal thing. Also, should I be scared
of her because of the moment. I don't feel like
I'm in any danger at all. I mean, she was
super nice to me. One might even say we're best friends.
So what the hell do I do? Help me? Hey, y'all,
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