March 10, 2025 • 22 mins
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:03):
Welcome to a truly haunted podcast.
Speaker 2 (00:08):
Southy Nows is here with us.
Speaker 1 (00:11):
The podcast that brings you weekly true ghostly stories. In
this podcast, you'll delve into the depths of some of
the darkest paranormal experiences that cannot be defined by anything
(00:31):
less than truly haunting. Haunting. Now, sit back, relax, and
let's begin our journey into the mysterious and unknown.
Speaker 3 (00:57):
Welcome to a truly haunted podcast. I'm your host, Eve
s Evans. Today we have another haunting story for you,
So sit back and relax because ghost stories are up next.
Speaker 4 (01:14):
Missing. I step into my grandfather's attic, my footsteps muffled
by layers of dust that cling to the wooden floorboards
like a ghostly shroud. The air, heavy with the scent
of mildew and decay, fills my lungs as I inhale,
sending a shiver down my spine. Sunlight slices through the
(01:39):
grind coated window, casting eerie shadows on the sloped ceiling,
and wooden beams seem to flex and creak in response
to my intrusion. Wow, it's been ages since anyone's been
up here, I muttered to myself. My voice barely audible
above my racing heart. Excitement and drill twists together like
(02:01):
tangled rope inside me. As I ventured deeper into the
forgotten corners of the attic, my fingers brushing against cobweb
covered relics from the past. Hey, what's this, I ask aloud,
stumbling upon an ornate toy box nestled between two moth
eaten trunks. Its paint is peeling, the hinges rusted and creaking,
(02:25):
like the groans of some living creature unhappy with my presence. Tentatively,
I reach for the lid, lifting it with a hesitant breath.
My pulse quickens as the hinges groan in protest, revealing
their hidden treasure, A doll, exquisitely crafted yet eerily lifelike.
She lies there, her postlain skin flawless. But her eyes,
(02:50):
Oh those eyes. They glint with a sinister spark, as
if she knows more than she should. Who are you,
my whisper? Unable to tear my gar away from the doll.
Dressed in a frilly white gown, her hair cascades like
a dark waterfall, framing a face that seems to shift
with the light. I can't shake the feeling that she's
(03:11):
watching me, waiting seriously, though, I say, trying to dispel
the unease creeping into my bones. You're beautiful, I'm kind
of creepy. As I reach for the doll, my fingertips
brush against her cold porcelain skin. A shudder runs through me,
(03:32):
as if someone walked over my grave. The air in
the attic grows thicker, heavier, and I find it harder
to breathe. I look around, half expecting to see something
lurking in the shadows cast by the dim light. Maybe
I should put you back, I say, my voice, barely
a whisper. You're giving me the creeps. But even as
(03:54):
the words leave my lips, I can't bring myself to
do it. Something mesmerizing about her, something that keeps me
rooted in place, unable to look away from those haunting eyes,
eyes that seem to know far more than they have
any right to. A cold shiver runs through me as
I muster the courage to turn the doll saad. The
(04:17):
creaking of her porcelain neck sends a chill down my spine,
and almost immediately her voice spills forth, soft and haunting,
seems to echo throughout the attic. Once there was a
girl named Lily, she begins. The shadows around me seemed
to deepen. As I picture Lily's innocent face, forever lost
(04:40):
in her game. A flicker of fear ignites within me.
What if this doll holds more than just stories? With
pulse quickens and the air grows heavy with tension, Tell
me more, I say, hesitantly, curiosity getting the better of me.
Lily love to play hide and seek. The doll continued,
(05:00):
her voice, dipping into a whisper. One day, she hid
too well and was never found. A glance around the
attic the eerie shadows casting an unsettling atmosphere. The scent
of dust and disuse hangs thick in the air. The
taste of unease lingers on my tongue as I listened
to the doll's chilling tale. Then there was Ben, she says,
(05:25):
and I can't help but lean closer. I chased a
butterfly into the woods and disappeared, leaving behind only echoes
of his joy. A sense of foreboding washes over me,
making the attic feel colder and more oppressive. Each story
pulls me deeper into a world where childhood innocence is
(05:46):
devoured by darkness, swallowed nervously, feeling the weight of the
doll's gaze upon me. Is that all I ask, my
voice barely audible. Far from it, Dear Jerome, she replies,
a sinister undertone creeping into her voice. For every child
(06:07):
who has become lost to time, their laughter silenced by
the shadows, there is a story. Shouldn't those stories be
left alone? I muse, the dread pulling in my chest.
Shouldn't the past be allowed to rest? Perhaps, she concedes,
her eyes glinting with a knowing smile. But then again,
(06:31):
where would the fun be in that? And so, as
the attic grows colder and the shadows twist and writhe
around me, I find myself inexplicably drawn into the Doll's
web of stories. But with each new tale, I can't
help but feel that I'm wandering further and further from
the light. In this haunted realm, innocence is swallowed by darkness,
(06:54):
and I begin to fear that I too will become
lost in the shadows. The attics musty scent mingles with
the icy air, intensifying as the doll unveils another tail.
Let me introduce you to Emma, she murmurs, her eyes
gleaming with the mix of sorrow and mischief, A girl
(07:16):
who danced with shadows until the swallowed her home. I
envision Emma twirling gracefully among the darkness, her laughter echoing
like a haunting melody. The image then shivers down my spine.
I can't help but feel a connection to her fate,
a young life snuffed out by the very shadows that
(07:36):
once brought her joy. Then there was Jacob, continues the doll,
her voice barely audible above the creaks and groans of
the old attic floorboards. He wandered too far from his home,
lost in the thick fog that rolled in one fateful night.
(07:58):
My heart tightens at the men of Jacob, and I
picture him stumbling blindly through the impenetrable mist, his cries
for help absorbed by the FOG's unforgiving embrace. These stories,
these glimpses into the lives of children now gone, way
heavily on my soul. Isn't it time for me to
leave my croak, my voice strained with emotionations, the dull
(08:24):
whispers gaze boring into my very being. Still one story
to share yours and not forms of my stomach, dread
seeping into every crevice of my mind. The chill in
the attic seems to intensify, wrapping around me like a
(08:44):
suffocating shroud. Jerome, she murmurs, voice dripping with sinister sweetness.
You were always so curious, exploring places you shouldn't have.
Her words resonate with the haunting familiarity, igniting memories of
my own childhood adventures, daring explorations into the unknown, always
(09:08):
pushing boundaries. Struggle to shake off the chill that grips me,
that clings to my skin like a second layer of ice.
Tell me, I whisper, voice trembling, why are you sharing
these stories with me? Because the doll replies, her eyes
gleaming with malice. You too have ventured bone to the darkness.
(09:32):
Now you can never escape. I stare at her porcelain face,
the realization dawning on me that I'm no mere listener.
I've become part of this twisted narrative and unwilling participant
in a carb dance with fate. My heart races, pounding
against my rib cage as the shadows around me grow darker,
(09:53):
more oppressive, The attic feels alive with whispered secrets, and
I know that I'm trapped within its sinister embrace. Panic
rises within me like a tidal wave, threatening to drown
my senses. As I realize the pattern, each child drawn
in by the doll's charm had vanished, their laughter silenced forever.
(10:14):
My hands tremble, and I steel myself, tempting to dismiss
my growing fear that her presence hangs heavy in the air,
suffocating me. Please stop, I choke out. The dolls seems unfazed.
Her eyes remain locked on mine, unblinking and relentless. Ah,
but there's so much more to tell, she croons, her
(10:38):
voice like the soft rustle of dead leaves, so many
more lost souls. I glance around the attic, the shadows
twisting and writhing like living creatures. That feels as if
the very walls hold the memories of those who have disappeared,
every dark corner filled with whispered secrets and echoes of laughter.
(10:59):
Leave them be. I plead let them rest. Rest. Doll scoffs,
her porcelain features contorting into a cruel brin. I'll never
find peace, Durrow neither will you. My chest constricts, my
(11:19):
breath coming in shallow gasps. As the atmosphere grows heavier,
time moveses, meaning, slipping like sand through my fingers. I
lose track of how long I've been in the attic,
entranced by the chilling tails that spill from the Doll's
lips like poison. One story bleeds into another, each more
(11:39):
tragic than the last, until I'm ensnared in a web
of despair, woven by the doll's voice. With each turn
of her head, I feel the weight of her power,
the pull of her sinister charm. Enough, I shout, unable
to bear the crushing sadness any longer. Enough. Is it
(12:00):
you who has had enough? Jerome? Or is it the
darkness that has finally taken it's tall. My knees buckle,
and I collapse onto the dusty floorboards. The attic seems
to close in around me, as if I'm being swallowed
by the darkness itself. Desperation claws at my chest as
I struggle to find a way out of this nightmare. Please,
(12:25):
I whisper, tears streaming down my face. I can't take
any more. Perhaps it's time for your story. To become
part of mine, Doll says softly, her voice cold and unforgiving.
Never you choke out, determination igniting within me like a
spark in the darkness. You don't own me. Time will tell, Jerome,
(12:50):
she replies, her voice ripping with venace. Time will tell.
As I sit there, shivering and alone, I know that
I must escape this cursed place, a risk becoming another
name on the Doll's list of forgotten souls. My resolve hardens,
and I swear to myself that I'll fight the sinister
(13:11):
charm that threatens to consume me. Watch me, I whispered
into the shadows, my voice filled with defiance. Just watch me.
The weight of the Doll's words presses down on me
like a heavy fog, chilling me to my core. My
breath comes in short panic gasps as I attempt to
grasp onto any semblance of hope, my voice trembling. I
(13:33):
won't become another one of your victims. Ah a drum,
she replies, her eyes gleaming with malice. You already are.
My heart pounds like a war drum in my chest.
The ones familiar attic now and distorted prison of impending doom.
As I stumble back. The room seems to warp and
(13:54):
twist around me, shadows contorting into sinister shapes that threaten
to engulf me. The sickly sweet scent of decay fills
the air, mingling with the taste of thick dust on
my tongue. Let me out, I screamed, desperation, clawing at
my throat. Please just let me go, running away once,
(14:16):
save you, Jerome Dull taunts, her laughter echoing off the
attic walls like a ghostly chorus. You can't escape. Fight
With a sudden, violent shift in the atmosphere, the toy
box slams shut, trapping me in the darkness. Panic surges
through me like an electric current, my limbs shaking as
(14:36):
I yank at the lid with all my strength, but
it refuses to budge the cruel, mocking laughter of the
doll ringing in my ears. Help someone, please help me,
I call out, my voice, sounding small and insignificant amidst
the cacophony of despair that surrounds me. The stories of
the lost children swirl around me like a suffocating storm,
(15:00):
tragic fates intertwining with my own. Your cries fall and
deaf use. Jerome doll whispers, her voice oozing with satisfaction.
No one can hear you, no one can save you.
Shut up, I shout, tears streaming down my face as
(15:21):
the walls close in in me. I won't let you win.
Time will tell, she replies, her laughter turning hollow as
it fades into the oppressive silence. I curl into a
ball on the dusty floor, my thoughts racing and heart
pounding in my ears. Though my body trembles with fear,
I know that I cannot let the Doll's sinister charm
(15:43):
consume me. I must find a way to escape this nightmare,
to reclaim my life from the clutches of darkness. My
chest constricts, the air around me, growing heavier as I
struggle to breathe. The shadows seem to slither and coil
themselves around me like serpents, whispers of forgotten souls tickling
my senses. My legs tremble, unable to bare the weight
(16:05):
of my body, and the invisible eyes that follow my
every move. Please choke out, my voice, raw and desperate,
leave me be you fate, sailed. Jerome Dull's sinister voice
echoes through the darkness. Her words a chilling reminder that
this nightmare will not release me from its grasp. The
(16:28):
atmosphere presses down upon me, suffocating and relentless. I stagger back,
feeling as if unseen hands claw at my skin, urging
me towards a horrifying end. The room seems to spin
a whirlwind of despair and anxiety, overtaking me. My foot
catches on an unseen object, and I lose my balance,
tumbling backwards into the abyss. As I flail trying to
(16:52):
regain control, I realize that I'm no longer in the attic. Instead,
I find myself in a cold, unforgiving concrete basement and
exurges through me. The throbbing of my chained ankle a
cruel reminder of my captivity. Where where am I stammer
frantically scanning the dimly lit space. Welcome to your new home, dullopers,
(17:19):
her voice echoing off the walls. The same door that
had locked me in the attic now stands between me
and freedom, its imposing presence taunting me with the knowledge
of my entrapment. I attempt to stand, leaning heavily against
the damp, cold wall. My fingers traced the rough surface
desperate for some hint of escape. Why are you doing this,
(17:41):
I ask, my voice shaking with fear, Because it's your destiny,
she replies, her laughter, a haunting melody that sends shivers
down my spine. You cannot escape what you were meant
to become. Determination flares within me, a spark of hope
amidst the darkness. You're wrong, I whisper fiercely. I will
(18:04):
find a way out. Time till jerome the dull, taunts,
her voice, fading into the shadows. Frantic and desperate, I
pound on the door and my fists colliding with a cold,
unyielding surface. Help somebody, help me, I scream, but my
voice echoes back at me, swallowed by the oppressive silence
(18:25):
that surrounds me. The air is thick with the weight
of fear, the stench of mildew and despair permeating every
breath I take. In my mind's eye, the screams of
the missing children verberate like a cacophony of despair, their
cries for help hauntingly similar to my own. Pressing my
ear against door, I strained to hear any sign of salvation.
(18:48):
With all that reaches me is the relentless thud of
my own heart, a grim reminder that I am now
part of their story. Please, I whisper, chowing back tears.
My hands tremble as I slide down the door, my
body slumping in defeat. The taste of bile and terror
lingers on my tongue, that struggle to come to terms
(19:11):
with my new reality. And then I see her in
the dim light, The doll reappears, materializing in the corner
of the room, as if conjured by some dark magic.
Her eyes glint with triumph, a sinister spark flickering within
their depths. Welcome Jerome, she whispers, her voice dripping with
(19:31):
sickly sweet poison that sends a shiver down my spine.
You're home now. As the darkness closes in a suffocating
blanket of shadows, I understand I'm forever locked in this
room of lost souls, A mere whisper among the echoes
of the forgotten. The thought wraps around my chest, constricting
(19:51):
until I can barely breathe. The doll's laughter fills the air,
chilling melody that dances through the room, mocking my futile
attempts to escape. In this moment, I realize what I've become.
One of the missing, forever trapped in a limbo of
memories lost to time, Get away from me. I shout,
(20:14):
my voice, thin and feeble. The dull only laughs harder,
her glee, a twisted serenade that marks the beginning of
my eternal torment. Never, she replies, her words, a crushing
force that shatter any last hope I had of escaping.
You belong to us. Now, in this cold, dark basement,
(20:36):
I am left to confront the horrifying truth. There's no escape,
no rescue, waiting just beyond the door. I am trapped here,
another soul swallowed by the darkness, destined to fade into
obscurity as my cries for help go unanswered.
Speaker 2 (21:00):
Thank you for tuning in to a truly haunted podcast.
Don't forget to check out our Patreon page for bonus content,
exclusive episodes, and much more. Stay tuned to next week
for a whole new haunting episode.
Speaker 1 (21:24):
From the twisted mind of co hosts paranormal author Eve
s Seven's and James curo Comes a delightfully haunting podcast,
Forever Haunted, Forever Haunted. Every Saturday, James and Eve delve
into Haunted places, artifacts, urban legends, paranormal happenings, and much more.
(21:52):
Every Thursday, join James and Eve for True Crime Thursday,
where they delve into a deviously minister true crime story
to chill your bones. Chill your bones, stay tuned to
Forever Haunted podcast, available on all podcasting networks
Welcome to a truly haunted podcast.
Speaker 2 (00:08):
Southy Nows is here with us.
Speaker 1 (00:11):
The podcast that brings you weekly true ghostly stories. In
this podcast, you'll delve into the depths of some of
the darkest paranormal experiences that cannot be defined by anything
(00:31):
less than truly haunting. Haunting. Now, sit back, relax, and
let's begin our journey into the mysterious and unknown.
Speaker 3 (00:57):
Welcome to a truly haunted podcast. I'm your host, Eve
s Evans. Today we have another haunting story for you,
So sit back and relax because ghost stories are up next.
Speaker 4 (01:14):
Missing. I step into my grandfather's attic, my footsteps muffled
by layers of dust that cling to the wooden floorboards
like a ghostly shroud. The air, heavy with the scent
of mildew and decay, fills my lungs as I inhale,
sending a shiver down my spine. Sunlight slices through the
(01:39):
grind coated window, casting eerie shadows on the sloped ceiling,
and wooden beams seem to flex and creak in response
to my intrusion. Wow, it's been ages since anyone's been
up here, I muttered to myself. My voice barely audible
above my racing heart. Excitement and drill twists together like
(02:01):
tangled rope inside me. As I ventured deeper into the
forgotten corners of the attic, my fingers brushing against cobweb
covered relics from the past. Hey, what's this, I ask aloud,
stumbling upon an ornate toy box nestled between two moth
eaten trunks. Its paint is peeling, the hinges rusted and creaking,
(02:25):
like the groans of some living creature unhappy with my presence. Tentatively,
I reach for the lid, lifting it with a hesitant breath.
My pulse quickens as the hinges groan in protest, revealing
their hidden treasure, A doll, exquisitely crafted yet eerily lifelike.
She lies there, her postlain skin flawless. But her eyes,
(02:50):
Oh those eyes. They glint with a sinister spark, as
if she knows more than she should. Who are you,
my whisper? Unable to tear my gar away from the doll.
Dressed in a frilly white gown, her hair cascades like
a dark waterfall, framing a face that seems to shift
with the light. I can't shake the feeling that she's
(03:11):
watching me, waiting seriously, though, I say, trying to dispel
the unease creeping into my bones. You're beautiful, I'm kind
of creepy. As I reach for the doll, my fingertips
brush against her cold porcelain skin. A shudder runs through me,
(03:32):
as if someone walked over my grave. The air in
the attic grows thicker, heavier, and I find it harder
to breathe. I look around, half expecting to see something
lurking in the shadows cast by the dim light. Maybe
I should put you back, I say, my voice, barely
a whisper. You're giving me the creeps. But even as
(03:54):
the words leave my lips, I can't bring myself to
do it. Something mesmerizing about her, something that keeps me
rooted in place, unable to look away from those haunting eyes,
eyes that seem to know far more than they have
any right to. A cold shiver runs through me as
I muster the courage to turn the doll saad. The
(04:17):
creaking of her porcelain neck sends a chill down my spine,
and almost immediately her voice spills forth, soft and haunting,
seems to echo throughout the attic. Once there was a
girl named Lily, she begins. The shadows around me seemed
to deepen. As I picture Lily's innocent face, forever lost
(04:40):
in her game. A flicker of fear ignites within me.
What if this doll holds more than just stories? With
pulse quickens and the air grows heavy with tension, Tell
me more, I say, hesitantly, curiosity getting the better of me.
Lily love to play hide and seek. The doll continued,
(05:00):
her voice, dipping into a whisper. One day, she hid
too well and was never found. A glance around the
attic the eerie shadows casting an unsettling atmosphere. The scent
of dust and disuse hangs thick in the air. The
taste of unease lingers on my tongue as I listened
to the doll's chilling tale. Then there was Ben, she says,
(05:25):
and I can't help but lean closer. I chased a
butterfly into the woods and disappeared, leaving behind only echoes
of his joy. A sense of foreboding washes over me,
making the attic feel colder and more oppressive. Each story
pulls me deeper into a world where childhood innocence is
(05:46):
devoured by darkness, swallowed nervously, feeling the weight of the
doll's gaze upon me. Is that all I ask, my
voice barely audible. Far from it, Dear Jerome, she replies,
a sinister undertone creeping into her voice. For every child
(06:07):
who has become lost to time, their laughter silenced by
the shadows, there is a story. Shouldn't those stories be
left alone? I muse, the dread pulling in my chest.
Shouldn't the past be allowed to rest? Perhaps, she concedes,
her eyes glinting with a knowing smile. But then again,
(06:31):
where would the fun be in that? And so, as
the attic grows colder and the shadows twist and writhe
around me, I find myself inexplicably drawn into the Doll's
web of stories. But with each new tale, I can't
help but feel that I'm wandering further and further from
the light. In this haunted realm, innocence is swallowed by darkness,
(06:54):
and I begin to fear that I too will become
lost in the shadows. The attics musty scent mingles with
the icy air, intensifying as the doll unveils another tail.
Let me introduce you to Emma, she murmurs, her eyes
gleaming with the mix of sorrow and mischief, A girl
(07:16):
who danced with shadows until the swallowed her home. I
envision Emma twirling gracefully among the darkness, her laughter echoing
like a haunting melody. The image then shivers down my spine.
I can't help but feel a connection to her fate,
a young life snuffed out by the very shadows that
(07:36):
once brought her joy. Then there was Jacob, continues the doll,
her voice barely audible above the creaks and groans of
the old attic floorboards. He wandered too far from his home,
lost in the thick fog that rolled in one fateful night.
(07:58):
My heart tightens at the men of Jacob, and I
picture him stumbling blindly through the impenetrable mist, his cries
for help absorbed by the FOG's unforgiving embrace. These stories,
these glimpses into the lives of children now gone, way
heavily on my soul. Isn't it time for me to
leave my croak, my voice strained with emotionations, the dull
(08:24):
whispers gaze boring into my very being. Still one story
to share yours and not forms of my stomach, dread
seeping into every crevice of my mind. The chill in
the attic seems to intensify, wrapping around me like a
(08:44):
suffocating shroud. Jerome, she murmurs, voice dripping with sinister sweetness.
You were always so curious, exploring places you shouldn't have.
Her words resonate with the haunting familiarity, igniting memories of
my own childhood adventures, daring explorations into the unknown, always
(09:08):
pushing boundaries. Struggle to shake off the chill that grips me,
that clings to my skin like a second layer of ice.
Tell me, I whisper, voice trembling, why are you sharing
these stories with me? Because the doll replies, her eyes
gleaming with malice. You too have ventured bone to the darkness.
(09:32):
Now you can never escape. I stare at her porcelain face,
the realization dawning on me that I'm no mere listener.
I've become part of this twisted narrative and unwilling participant
in a carb dance with fate. My heart races, pounding
against my rib cage as the shadows around me grow darker,
(09:53):
more oppressive, The attic feels alive with whispered secrets, and
I know that I'm trapped within its sinister embrace. Panic
rises within me like a tidal wave, threatening to drown
my senses. As I realize the pattern, each child drawn
in by the doll's charm had vanished, their laughter silenced forever.
(10:14):
My hands tremble, and I steel myself, tempting to dismiss
my growing fear that her presence hangs heavy in the air,
suffocating me. Please stop, I choke out. The dolls seems unfazed.
Her eyes remain locked on mine, unblinking and relentless. Ah,
but there's so much more to tell, she croons, her
(10:38):
voice like the soft rustle of dead leaves, so many
more lost souls. I glance around the attic, the shadows
twisting and writhing like living creatures. That feels as if
the very walls hold the memories of those who have disappeared,
every dark corner filled with whispered secrets and echoes of laughter.
(10:59):
Leave them be. I plead let them rest. Rest. Doll scoffs,
her porcelain features contorting into a cruel brin. I'll never
find peace, Durrow neither will you. My chest constricts, my
(11:19):
breath coming in shallow gasps. As the atmosphere grows heavier,
time moveses, meaning, slipping like sand through my fingers. I
lose track of how long I've been in the attic,
entranced by the chilling tails that spill from the Doll's
lips like poison. One story bleeds into another, each more
(11:39):
tragic than the last, until I'm ensnared in a web
of despair, woven by the doll's voice. With each turn
of her head, I feel the weight of her power,
the pull of her sinister charm. Enough, I shout, unable
to bear the crushing sadness any longer. Enough. Is it
(12:00):
you who has had enough? Jerome? Or is it the
darkness that has finally taken it's tall. My knees buckle,
and I collapse onto the dusty floorboards. The attic seems
to close in around me, as if I'm being swallowed
by the darkness itself. Desperation claws at my chest as
I struggle to find a way out of this nightmare. Please,
(12:25):
I whisper, tears streaming down my face. I can't take
any more. Perhaps it's time for your story. To become
part of mine, Doll says softly, her voice cold and unforgiving.
Never you choke out, determination igniting within me like a
spark in the darkness. You don't own me. Time will tell, Jerome,
(12:50):
she replies, her voice ripping with venace. Time will tell.
As I sit there, shivering and alone, I know that
I must escape this cursed place, a risk becoming another
name on the Doll's list of forgotten souls. My resolve hardens,
and I swear to myself that I'll fight the sinister
(13:11):
charm that threatens to consume me. Watch me, I whispered
into the shadows, my voice filled with defiance. Just watch me.
The weight of the Doll's words presses down on me
like a heavy fog, chilling me to my core. My
breath comes in short panic gasps as I attempt to
grasp onto any semblance of hope, my voice trembling. I
(13:33):
won't become another one of your victims. Ah a drum,
she replies, her eyes gleaming with malice. You already are.
My heart pounds like a war drum in my chest.
The ones familiar attic now and distorted prison of impending doom.
As I stumble back. The room seems to warp and
(13:54):
twist around me, shadows contorting into sinister shapes that threaten
to engulf me. The sickly sweet scent of decay fills
the air, mingling with the taste of thick dust on
my tongue. Let me out, I screamed, desperation, clawing at
my throat. Please just let me go, running away once,
(14:16):
save you, Jerome Dull taunts, her laughter echoing off the
attic walls like a ghostly chorus. You can't escape. Fight
With a sudden, violent shift in the atmosphere, the toy
box slams shut, trapping me in the darkness. Panic surges
through me like an electric current, my limbs shaking as
(14:36):
I yank at the lid with all my strength, but
it refuses to budge the cruel, mocking laughter of the
doll ringing in my ears. Help someone, please help me,
I call out, my voice, sounding small and insignificant amidst
the cacophony of despair that surrounds me. The stories of
the lost children swirl around me like a suffocating storm,
(15:00):
tragic fates intertwining with my own. Your cries fall and
deaf use. Jerome doll whispers, her voice oozing with satisfaction.
No one can hear you, no one can save you.
Shut up, I shout, tears streaming down my face as
(15:21):
the walls close in in me. I won't let you win.
Time will tell, she replies, her laughter turning hollow as
it fades into the oppressive silence. I curl into a
ball on the dusty floor, my thoughts racing and heart
pounding in my ears. Though my body trembles with fear,
I know that I cannot let the Doll's sinister charm
(15:43):
consume me. I must find a way to escape this nightmare,
to reclaim my life from the clutches of darkness. My
chest constricts, the air around me, growing heavier as I
struggle to breathe. The shadows seem to slither and coil
themselves around me like serpents, whispers of forgotten souls tickling
my senses. My legs tremble, unable to bare the weight
(16:05):
of my body, and the invisible eyes that follow my
every move. Please choke out, my voice, raw and desperate,
leave me be you fate, sailed. Jerome Dull's sinister voice
echoes through the darkness. Her words a chilling reminder that
this nightmare will not release me from its grasp. The
(16:28):
atmosphere presses down upon me, suffocating and relentless. I stagger back,
feeling as if unseen hands claw at my skin, urging
me towards a horrifying end. The room seems to spin
a whirlwind of despair and anxiety, overtaking me. My foot
catches on an unseen object, and I lose my balance,
tumbling backwards into the abyss. As I flail trying to
(16:52):
regain control, I realize that I'm no longer in the attic. Instead,
I find myself in a cold, unforgiving concrete basement and
exurges through me. The throbbing of my chained ankle a
cruel reminder of my captivity. Where where am I stammer
frantically scanning the dimly lit space. Welcome to your new home, dullopers,
(17:19):
her voice echoing off the walls. The same door that
had locked me in the attic now stands between me
and freedom, its imposing presence taunting me with the knowledge
of my entrapment. I attempt to stand, leaning heavily against
the damp, cold wall. My fingers traced the rough surface
desperate for some hint of escape. Why are you doing this,
(17:41):
I ask, my voice shaking with fear, Because it's your destiny,
she replies, her laughter, a haunting melody that sends shivers
down my spine. You cannot escape what you were meant
to become. Determination flares within me, a spark of hope
amidst the darkness. You're wrong, I whisper fiercely. I will
(18:04):
find a way out. Time till jerome the dull, taunts,
her voice, fading into the shadows. Frantic and desperate, I
pound on the door and my fists colliding with a cold,
unyielding surface. Help somebody, help me, I scream, but my
voice echoes back at me, swallowed by the oppressive silence
(18:25):
that surrounds me. The air is thick with the weight
of fear, the stench of mildew and despair permeating every
breath I take. In my mind's eye, the screams of
the missing children verberate like a cacophony of despair, their
cries for help hauntingly similar to my own. Pressing my
ear against door, I strained to hear any sign of salvation.
(18:48):
With all that reaches me is the relentless thud of
my own heart, a grim reminder that I am now
part of their story. Please, I whisper, chowing back tears.
My hands tremble as I slide down the door, my
body slumping in defeat. The taste of bile and terror
lingers on my tongue, that struggle to come to terms
(19:11):
with my new reality. And then I see her in
the dim light, The doll reappears, materializing in the corner
of the room, as if conjured by some dark magic.
Her eyes glint with triumph, a sinister spark flickering within
their depths. Welcome Jerome, she whispers, her voice dripping with
(19:31):
sickly sweet poison that sends a shiver down my spine.
You're home now. As the darkness closes in a suffocating
blanket of shadows, I understand I'm forever locked in this
room of lost souls, A mere whisper among the echoes
of the forgotten. The thought wraps around my chest, constricting
(19:51):
until I can barely breathe. The doll's laughter fills the air,
chilling melody that dances through the room, mocking my futile
attempts to escape. In this moment, I realize what I've become.
One of the missing, forever trapped in a limbo of
memories lost to time, Get away from me. I shout,
(20:14):
my voice, thin and feeble. The dull only laughs harder,
her glee, a twisted serenade that marks the beginning of
my eternal torment. Never, she replies, her words, a crushing
force that shatter any last hope I had of escaping.
You belong to us. Now, in this cold, dark basement,
(20:36):
I am left to confront the horrifying truth. There's no escape,
no rescue, waiting just beyond the door. I am trapped here,
another soul swallowed by the darkness, destined to fade into
obscurity as my cries for help go unanswered.
Speaker 2 (21:00):
Thank you for tuning in to a truly haunted podcast.
Don't forget to check out our Patreon page for bonus content,
exclusive episodes, and much more. Stay tuned to next week
for a whole new haunting episode.
Speaker 1 (21:24):
From the twisted mind of co hosts paranormal author Eve
s Seven's and James curo Comes a delightfully haunting podcast,
Forever Haunted, Forever Haunted. Every Saturday, James and Eve delve
into Haunted places, artifacts, urban legends, paranormal happenings, and much more.
(21:52):
Every Thursday, join James and Eve for True Crime Thursday,
where they delve into a deviously minister true crime story
to chill your bones. Chill your bones, stay tuned to
Forever Haunted podcast, available on all podcasting networks
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