Hey, Creepers! Welcome to the Mrs. Night Terror Podcast! Join me as I tell you spooky, shocking, and scary bedtime tales. Each story I tell is a fictional narrative so don’t worry too much about it coming true! If you think you can handle it, listen closely and imagine yourself being part of each and every story I tell. First I want to say thank you to each and every listener out there. This is the next episode of the Mrs. Night Terror Podcast, and surely not the last. If you enjoy what you hear, be sure to give me a follow on all of my socials including X, Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok @MrsNightTerror. Leave comments about what you enjoyed the most and what you would like to see in the future! I also have a patreon page where I share horrifying artwork, Halloween themed coloring pages, and other behind the scenes details about the ins and outs of being Mrs. Night Terror.
Tonight’s Tale is called The Old Farmhouse
I walked up to the old farmhouse, my heart pounding in my chest, and a sense of déjà vu washing over me. The stairs creaked one by one with each step I took, just like before. Or at least that's how it felt. I felt like I knew the sound that was coming next with each stride. The eerie vibe of the house sent shivers down my spine, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
Had I visited here before? I thought to myself. Or maybe I have been here in my dreams. Or maybe I've seen a photo, and it just felt familiar. I carried my box of clothes up the creaky stairs and sat them on the visibly worn-down wrap-around porch. I looked at my mother and asked her if we had ever been here before, maybe when I was younger. She smiled and said no. Reminding me that we had never even been to the state of Massachusetts, so it was nearly impossible for us to have any memories of this particular house.
I shook off the feeling. Just telling myself that it's an old house, with a lot of energy, energy that I am probably picking up on. I consider myself a medium of sorts, I've often picked up on various paranormal phenomena throughout my lifetime. I picked up my box and trekked up the next set of stairs. Until I made it to my piece of the pie.
My room, in the attic, still had that oppressive heat, mugginess, and the familiar smell of mold. It was early Autumn, and the weather still hadn't cooled, but I knew within the next few weeks the room would air out and feel cool and comfy. Although There was an uneasy feeling lingering in the air, like a dark secret waiting to be uncovered, I continued to unpack my boxes, trying to regain a sense of normalcy. I opened the windows, through back the curtains, and put on some soothing music in an attempt to calm my nerves.
However, the memories within my mind haunted my thoughts. I kept seeing flashes of a burning candle and the vision of melting wax was etched in my memory. I decided to be cautious and double-checked that everything was safe and in its place. No candles, no matches, no fire at all. It seemed fine for a while, and I started to relax.
The thoughts of being all the way up in the attic may be playing tricks with my brain. I am naturally a paranoid person, which makes sense that I would be a bit nervous on my first day in such an old house.
As the day wore on, exhaustion from the whole experience crept in, and I decided to take a nap. I lay down, hoping that rest would help clear my mind. But my sleep was restless, disturbed by unsettling dreams and the constant feeling of being watched. But eventually, I nodded off into a deep slumber.
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Suddenly, I woke up to a pungent smell of smoke. Panic surged through me as I saw a candle, lit in the corner of the room, its flickering flame dancing dangerously close to the curtain. Memories of the visions in my mind rushed back to me, and I reacted swiftly, blowing out the candle and grabbing a cup of water to extinguish the small fire that had begun to smolder.
"I don't remember lighting the candle," I said aloud to myself, my voice quivering. The sense of unease that had plagued me since I arrived in this farmhouse intensified. I couldn't explain these strange occurrences, but I tried to rationalize them, blaming my exhaustion and the stress of moving. Thoughts ran through my mind, and I began to wonder if I could have lit the candle in my sleep. Could my paranoid thoughts manifest into my dreams? Causing me to sleepwalk? Resulting in a lit candle?
I was mentally exhausted. Moving halfway across the country to a place that I was unfamiliar with had my mind totally on edge.
My unease deepened when I opened my drawer to retrieve my pajamas and found them missing. Panic set in as I realized that everything I had just unpacked was gone. Confusion and frustration gripped me as I rushed downstairs to find my mother and seek answers. But the house was eerily empty, and my mother was nowhere to be found.
I wondered if she might have moved my belongings while I slept, but there was no sign of her own things either. I checked every room, growing more frightened with each empty space I encountered. What had happened to my mother, and where had everything disappeared to? Fear gnawed at me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something sinister was unfolding.
How could everything be gone? We just arrived. It would be impossible for my mom to reload everything into the truck and leave. It didn't make sense to me.
I raced to the front door, desperate to escape this bizarre nightmare. However, the door was locked, and I couldn't open it from the inside. Panic overtook me once more as I pounded on the door, shouting for help.
"HELP! PLEASE, ANYONE!" I cried out, my voice quivering in desperation. The seconds felt like hours as I waited for a response, but none came.
"MOM! Where are you?" I continued yelling, hoping she would hear me.
With no other options, I rushed to the back door, only to find it bolted shut. It seemed as though the house itself was conspiring against me. Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized I was trapped inside a rapidly deteriorating nightmare.
Smoke began to seep into the house once more, and I could feel the heat intensifying. The scent of burning wood and fabric filled my nostrils. Desperation coursed through my veins, and I knew I had to find a way out.
I grabbed a chair and rushed to a window, determined to break free. The window felt like an impenetrable barrier, and my futile attempts to break it only left me feeling weak and defeated. Smoke continued to billow around me, making it increasingly difficult to breathe. I had to find a way out, or this house would become my fiery tomb.
As I gazed out the window, my hope dwindling, I saw a flicker of movement outside. Through the thick smoke, I could barely make out the outline of a figure approaching. Relief washed over me as I realized that someone had finally come to my rescue.
With renewed determination, I continued to pound on the window, shouting for help. The figure outside seemed to be coming closer, and I could hear sirens in the distance, signaling the arrival of the fire department.
The smoke grew thicker. I could barely breathe. I knew I needed to get out of the house, it was just a matter of moments until the firemen broke through the door and I'd be safe.
Suddenly the sound of the sirens stopped. The smoke was too thick for me to see, but from what I could tell, there was no one else outside. No firetrucks, no rescuers, no one to help me.
My heart stopped. Help! I screamed. I hoped that maybe my senses were overwhelmed and I was mistaken. But I was alone. And no one could hear my pleas for help.
Maybe they didn't have enough water to put out the flames. This is an old farmhouse, and I don't recall seeing a hydrant outside. I just needed to stay safe until they came back with the right tools and equipment to rescue me.
I needed a plan. And it had to be quick. I ran to the bathroom, thinking maybe If I turned on the shower and waited, the water would keep the flames away until the fire department came back. I ran into the bathroom and slammed the door closed behind me. Smoke began to pour in from under the door, so I shoved towels into the crease to help reduce the smell.
As I walked past the mirror I recoiled in horror. My reflection was of someone that I didn’t recognize. My hair was singed and mangled, my skin was bloody and blistered, and I could see bone and pieces of flesh falling off my face. My eyeballs were bulging and my clothes were burnt. I screamed out loud, but I could no longer hear my voice.
My thoughts were becoming foreign, all memories were fading, and reality was disappearing. I could see my melted face, but I knew I hadn’t gotten burned. I didn’t feel any pain. I stayed as far away from the flames as I could. How did I end up this way? What happened to me? I went into the shower and turned on the water, I lay there and closed my eyes. I could hear the house burning around me. The pops and crackles got closer every second. Fear had taken over. I tried to cry, but I could no longer produce tears. Confusion took over as I faded out of consciousness.
When I opened my eyes, I was walking up to the old farmhouse, the stairs creaking one by one with each step I took.
As we draw the curtains on this chilling tale, our hearts still racing and our minds haunted by the echoes of the unknown, remember that the darkness we've explored is but a glimpse into the abyss that dwells within us all. In the realm of the mysterious, we find both terror and fascination, and in these shadows, we confront the depths of human nature and the uncharted territories of the universe.
Thanks to each and every creeper out there who takes time out of their day to listen to my horrifying stories. Remember to follow me on tiktok, instagram, and Twitter or check out my website. Mrsnightterror.store for more chilling tales, delicious Halloween inspired recipes, and amazingly horrific merch.
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And fear not, for as you step back into the realm of the familiar, let the shivers down your spine remind you that life's greatest mysteries are the ones that keep us awake at night, beckoning us to peer into the abyss and challenge the boundaries of our understanding.
Until next time, dear listeners, may your dreams be undisturbed, and may you find solace in the light of day. Goodnight, and sweet dreams... if you dare.
