7 True Creepy School Teacher Stories (Vol. 2)

[Music] growing up in a Boston suburb during the 80s was rough I came up in a neighborhood that was rife with shady activity it was the kind of place that changed when the Sun went down sketchy streets and arterial alleyways that look sinister when shrouded in darkness my dad was an introverted workaholic and the subsequent loneliness driving my mom to the bottle I was rebellious angry and without income it was the perfect storm naturally I fell into petty crime school was a joke a glorified daycare for hopeless kids with no future and anything but prison or the morgue we were extremely disrespectful to the faculty on more than one occasion a member of the teaching staff was assaulted by a student but there was one teacher who seemed to be an exception he was someone who the kids never talked back to someone who had that natural air of authority about him his name was mr. Metzger a few teachers at her school were a mess fresh college graduates who were only maybe a year older than the kids in our class a couple of functioning alcoholics who smelled like vodka at 8:30 each morning shirt buttons undone with loose tacky walmart ties complete with five days stubble but not mr. Metzger he was always clean-shaven his thinning gray hair combed over a bald patch on the crown of his head he commanded respect one Friday evening my buddies and I were smoking cigarettes cruising in a battered old Ford when the subject of mr. Metzger came up you know he's a war veteran right dude was marine or some crap got a Silver Star for killing like ten enemy soldiers in the ambush or something once said I call BS the other retorted not everyone who served with some stone-cold killer my uncle was in the army motor pool said he never fired a shot nah man massacres hardcore I heard he broke a kid's jaw breaking up a fight a few years back and kids jaw was already broken and if mr. Metzger was in the Marines he certainly never talked about it later that night we pulled up to a small stucco house on the outskirts of Jamaica Plain it was pretty unassuming not the usual middle-class housing we targeted for burglaries but my buddy in the backseat insisted you sure this is the right place dude for the last time yes the guy buys and sells auto parts is always a buttload of cash stashed inside I'm telling you this will be a huge score for us we parked around the block scanning the area before we approached the house pulling out bandanas and balaclavas we used them to obscure our faces from any potential witnesses it was quiet out almost pitch-black if it wasn't for the dim fluorescent glow of Orange Street lamps breaking into the garage was easy the rotting wood of a side door gave way from around the old rusty lock and just like that we were inside but the interior of the damp dark garage held no car parts no sign of any mechanical work at all I shot our insistent friend a scornful look we should have just left right then and there but we were young foolish and arrogant we didn't want to walk away empty-handed at the door to the main house we listened for any sign of activity inside and it was silent I gulped took hold of the door handle and pulled a short corridor led to a side room which was evidently serving as a kind of office space with books and paperwork piled on an old desk I crept inside while my buddies searched the rest of the ground-floor for valuables it was searching the office that I began to notice a few things about the person who lived here despite being time-worn and dilapidated the room was incredibly orderly in neat the contents of shelves were immaculately arranged with one wall displaying a ragged looking flag red and blue with a yellow star in the center I had no idea what country it was from but I did get a feeling I'd seen it before somewhere a section of wall was decorated with framed newspaper clippings and they were almost impossible to read in the darkness but a shaft of pale moonlight creeping in through a grimy window drew my eye to one word in particular Vietnam our late night burglaries were always heart-pounding affairs but an unfamiliar terror began to claw at my guts as I quietly slid open one of the desk drawers there sat next to the doll metal of a colt 45 was some kind of necklace bumpy wrinkled shapes haphazardly strung together with a piece of cord I squinted in the darkness reaching inside to run a fingertip along one of the furrowed clumps they felt textured desiccated I had a solid lump of fear in my throat the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end by the time I realized what they were there were human ears I started to back out of the room feeling the raw palms sweating terror coursing through me as my mind began to race we need to get out of here we need to get out of here right now I could hear the creak of old floorboards growing closer to me by the time I saw something rush past the window I stopped peering into the streets outside in time to see another shape hurtling past the grubby pane of glass at full sprint it was my buddies I was alone alone with whoever was creeping up on me in the corridor behind I turned in time to see him standing in a threshold blocking my escape I never forget the sound of the rhythmic inhale and exhale of air through his nostrils the breath sound 'add ragged almost shaky relying the absolute fury and contempt that the figure felt for me he stepped forward his face momentarily bathed in the dim moonlight features that were twisted by Wrath pale blue eyes that seethe with a predatory glare it was mr. Metzger he lunched I was fast but he was faster stronger and possibly so we struggled grunting and growling as his rough calloused hands tried to wrap themselves around my neck it was a practiced maneuver it seemed instinctual to him to my absolute horror the black bandana that disguised me began to loosen slipping down a little as we fought if he sees my face I'm dead blind panic set in I threw myself forward my fore head smashing into one of his eye sockets his grip loosened I thrashed and kicked as he cried out in pain freeing myself just enough to be able to pull myself away from him and make a dash for the garage I burst out of the house tearing down the streets as fast as my legs could carry me any second now any second now he's going to aim that Colt 45 and blow my head off I couldn't bring myself to look back I didn't want to see him fire the shot that would end me dude was a Marine killed 10 people I'm gonna be the 11th oh god help me I'm gonna be the 11th the shot never came somehow I managed to reach the end of the street ducking into one of the garbage strewn alleys that meandered through the neighborhood like rat runts I almost punched my cowardly friends when I finally caught up with them they left me alone with that maniac left me alone to die are you kidding me you saw it was inside the house we got out at the moment we saw what was in there once said attempting to defend himself he could have warned me man you just up and left me there alone thing in the TV room it was made of hair human hair my other buddy finally spoke up his cigarette burned until the hanging ash seemed to defy gravity shut up that was not human hair we don't know what it was then tell him about the other thing dude go ahead tell him my other buddies sounded almost distraught at this point I don't want to talk about that it almost sounded childlike his cynicism and bravado stripped away they never did talk about what they saw the botched burglary was never mentioned again I dropped out of high school shortly after following my buddies deeper into a life of criminality until an arrest for grand theft got me six months in prison after my release I turned my life around I got a job earn my GED and attended a local community college to study home improvement I led a quiet life now I'm a father and a husband I eat my wife's cooking I watched the Red Sox I go to bed at 11:00 I'm a different person now but just last weekend Home Depot over near Southie I thought I'd recognized an elderly man shuffling among the aisles I followed curiously for a minute or two keeping my distance until the man turned and locked eyes with me uh-uh I know you he said unsmiling he won my old high school students yeah JB high class 86 he taught history right I felt that old familiar dread permeating my guts that's right he said his cold blue eyes studying me intently you look like you landed on your feet not bad for a dropout yeah I got myself together in the end teenagers right I forced a weak smile right a solemn look on his face as his tone dropped a little everyone deserves a second chance even if they did bad things in their youth there was a weight behind his words my palms grew damp against the plastic push bar of the cart well I see you again mr. Metzger I'm kind of amazed even recognize me I said beginning to wheel my cart away trying to hide my anxiety oh he replied and almost wolfish grin on his withered old face as I saw the same predatory glare in his eyes that I did 30 years ago I never forget a face the education system here in the UK is a little different than the US you see we don't have a middle school and we don't have that kind of social buffer that separates children from young adults so when you're 11 years old you're suddenly dropped into a campus that includes larger intimidating teenagers as bad as it sounds leaving the nurturing environment of primary school and entering the unforgiving hormone saturated world of secondary school is daunting to say the least granted I was quite a shy child but seeing all these spotty faced deep-voiced hairy miscreants dragging their knuckles to the corridors it was terrifying they were like monsters I didn't understand the things they did nor the things they said I remember just trying to keep my head down try not to get noticed by any potential bullies and so that's where this story begins with myself as a frightened quiet boy in a place that made me dread having to wake up in the morning homework being popular avoiding trouble I thought that was as bad as it was going to get for me I was wrong the headmaster of the school was named dr. Sylvester he wasn't a medical doctor he had earned the title in some lesser field but he went by doctor nonetheless he struck me as a cold man his welcoming speech to the Year 7s made secondary schools seem like an ordeal we had to endure than an experience that would enrich us the speech was emotionless with subordinate teachers lining the old school hall like prison camp guards the man was somewhat of a mystery to me but then everything at the tender age of eleven is mystery every little aspect of life threatens and frightens I remember feeling an immense pressure at the time pressure to succeed pressure to conform I was told not to question things that adults always had her best interests at heart if only that were true I recall it being a brisk autumn morning leafless skeletal trees and piles of rotting leaf litter lined the pavements we head French class at first period by far the most loath of the subjects I took not because I dislike the language and I was actually pretty good at it the problem was the woman who taught the class at the time I had the notion that she simply disliked me that I had offended her in some way that it was in my interest to correct but in retrospect it was clear she hated her job the dreadful scenario of having broken free from an institution like school only to find herself right back in one trapped I understand why she was so contemptuous maybe she had a dream once something she longed for only to find that it was late that she was too busy just another one of life's little tragedies during the middle of the period as I watched the hands of the classroom clock moving painfully slowly the dull silence of the room was interrupted by a shrill piercing sound it was the fire Bell some of the children jumped nervously whispering to each other as they awaited the instruction of the teacher fire drill the French teachers voice was a flat drone everybody line up outside the building there was a touch of excitement in the air by then the fire drill broke up the monotony of the long boring school day we gathered our belongings filing out of the classroom as the teacher to the monotone murmur of a single file as you can imagine other classes were also doing the same so before long there was quite a number of children all walking down one long locker lined corridor I have been in fire drills before obviously so that was no stranger to the actual but there was something different about this one something which wafted through the corridors towards and washed over the already nervous children we could smell smoke something was actually burning the most terrifying memory of the event wasn't the fire itself it wasn't the ominous smell of burning plastic or the cries of frightened students who were beginning to panic it was the look on the presiding teachers faces when they realized the very real danger we were in at that age adults seemed invincible like they can solve every problem and then some I had never in my short life seen a look of terror so pure on a grownups face it chilled me to the bone with anxious voices the teachers herded us to the nearest exit the intensity of the smoke increases as we moved pouring out of the building we could see the far wing of the school building as it burned wild fires dancing among thick black smoke and then the screams began children turned in the direction of the buildings burning section pointing and screeching as a figure emerge from the conflagration it was engulfed in flame a walking inferno whose cries of pains were burned up before they could leave charred lips and then there were sirens flashing blue lights and men that wore fluorescent uniforms paramedics tried to stifle the blaze on the Burning Man the sight of his charge smoking corpse had children in tears as teachers barked at them to look away but looking away didn't help even when I close my eyes and put my fingers in my ears I could still smell it I could still smell the burning flesh the school actually closed down for a week while the damage could be assessed local authorities offered to pay for trauma counseling for the entire teaching staff and student body our class along with our respective parents attended a group session at a nearby a community center I didn't understand any of it I didn't understand why we would want to all sit around and talk about something so terrible why we all weren't just at home trying to be happy trying to forget it's terrible to say so but I considered the time off as a sort of special day I was allowed to play video games for as long as I wanted my parents even bought me a new game I could tell they thought I was upset that they were trying to be good parents I just didn't question any of it like I said I just thought it was better to try to forget why would I want to remember the sight of that burning man climbing from the debris what would anyone want to remember that after a few days the school sent a letter out to all the families involved the cause of the fire was said to be an electrical fault a freak surge that shorted a kitchen power outlet and set fire to a broken refrigerator however I did notice something about my parents around that time when I was out of the room I would hear them talking in hushed tones they were discussing something they didn't want me to hear something secret I was a curious kid sure but I had no desire to eavesdrop I was acutely aware that there were things in the world I really didn't want to know about some things are better left to Secrets it took 10 years for the truth to come out one evening whilst sitting down for a home-cooked family meal we started to discuss my school days it was nothing in particular at first but somehow the subject for the fire came up just a passing comment nothing shocking or abrasive yet my parents reacted rather strangely my dad put down his cutlery and cleared his throat giving my mom a long serious look she did the same sighing before she turned to me and spoke Alex you remember that fire at your school right I nodded of course I did the school held a service for the burn janitor when he passed over from his injuries well we didn't tell you the truth back then about the fire we're sorry we hope you understand that we did what we thought was best at the time I stayed silent my eyes darting between my parents simply waiting for whatever it was they had to say the thing is son my dad took over taking my mom's hand in his and giving it a loving squeeze that fire was no accident someone set fire to the school tried to burn it down with all the children inside mom interjected she brought her hand to her mouth and her voice began to crack fresh tears twinkling in the corner of her eyes my dad just hushed her comforting her softly before he continued you see mr. Sylvester the head teacher that wasn't his name at all before then he never held the teaching position in his life his name was Bernard Lee Bernard Lee began an affair with a woman and wanted to escape his family he wanted a new life he wanted to clean slate so one night while his wife and children were sleeping he doused their home in petrol and set it ablaze my mom was sobbing at this point tears rolling down her cheeks which he still managed a few final words but unlike you son who was so lucky to have those children never escaped they never escaped we all broke down at this point embracing as a family counting our blessings that my class was able to escape from a similar fate as those poor unwanted children of Bernard Lee later on in life shortly before I actually decided to commit this piece of memory to paper I thought back to that time in my life when I was young and frightened when everything was so big and scary when the vast possibility of life terrified instead of inspired when I thought I was walking among monsters how could I have possibly known back then that it was right [Music] it's been a long time since I graduated high school so long that it feels says if it's all in the event that occurred in another person's life it feels like something that I read about or imagined something in losery that I've inserted myself into they say the human body replaces all its living cells every 7 years so I suppose that physically I am a different person than the one that existed a decade ago but the final conversation I had with an old history teacher mr. Cole there's one that feels like it occurred just yesterday for almost 15 years I had replayed the interaction in my mind over and over again it's something I don't think I'll ever forget he was standing on a site from the main crowd around the corner of the main school building he wore a sandy brown hair in a rough ponytail facial hair raggedly fashioned into a handlebar mustache a cigarette burn between his fingers adding to the brown nicotine stains that colored the tips something struck me about the way he looked at me as I took out my own pack of smokes and asked him for a light he didn't see me as a student anymore there was a coldness in his gaze something else to a kind of pity or disgust in his eyes half of me expected him to scold me for feeding such a filthy habit but he didn't he didn't say a word as he reached into the pocket of his worn faded jeans and pulled out an old Zippo we talked about growing up about how I was ready to go out into the world and find myself as a person I asked him how long it took for him to do the same I used to think about it a lot he said looking off into the near distance will you reach a certain age and you know who you are I live in a little condo near a bar just on the edge of town work 9:00 to 5:00 then in between I drink and there ain't nobody there to stop me I know who I am and after all these years as a kind of victory in that I'd never heard him talk this way before never in this tone he wasn't the mr. Kaul that kept his history class gripped with tales of your passionate speeches about life and liberty that had him greatly respected around campus he seemed defeated he seemed broken mr. Cole wore a wedding band but it occurred to me that he never mentioned anything about a family I chose not to ask we talked about what I had learned at my time attending the school he listened he nodded but I got the impression he was uninterested somehow unimpressed this irritated me a little sure my answer was full of cliches and platitudes but to dismiss my experience in just a glance graded against me I asked him what he had learned in his time teaching there some days I wish I didn't ask some people in this town act like they're not even aware that the outside world exists and might as well be living in a cave this place is a gutter when giant trailer park just floating through the universe somehow apart from it but that doesn't mean they can't be happy it doesn't mean they don't have value I mean there's no shame in being consciously happy while being unconsciously ignorant let's just it kid the consciously ignorant he replied crushing the burned up remnants of his cigarettes under his boot before are lighting up another I think human consciousness is a tragic mistake in the history of our evolution he let the thoughts sink in and he took in a lung full of smoke exhaling lazily as his gaze remained pinned to the distant horizon we became too sentient too self-aware whatever drives the universe forced the creation of an element separation from itself we humans are creatures that have no right to exist by natural law we are things that operate under the false pretenses of having a self this chaotic mess of senses and feelings all somehow totally assured that we are each somebody when in fact we're all just nobody so I'm guessing you're not a religious man I said feeling rather accomplished as he chuckled at my response religion man now there's a thing there was a faint smile on his face as if the very thought of its amused him a transfer of fear and self-loathing to a figure of divine authority I can understand the catharsis God soaks up their doubts and pain with his perfect Star Wars narrative I don't know sir sounds like you could do with a little old-time religion I replied finishing my own cigarette but not hardy enough to immediately begin another unlike mr. Coll if it's good enough for Grandma right he smiled again at least I'm not rushing towards a cosmic stop sign it was about this time that I confessed to mr. coal that I was shocked to hear him talk this way that nothing about his classes indicated he had such a pessimistic worldview I was building up to the question but he gave me a look which said that he knew well what I was about to ask do you want to know what made me this way right he asked with that same faint smile on his withered lips a lot of people want to know that I'm mostly telling the buzz off but you he cut himself for a moment shaking his head with that look of pity and disgust in his eyes my wife god rest her soul she and I well we lost our daughter when she was real young all the emotion seemed to drain out of him while he spoke he was clinical in his confession I think about her every so often my daughter and what she was spared during the better moments I feel sort of grateful for it doctor said she didn't feel a thing that the drunk driver sent her straight into a coma and after a few weeks of sleepless tear-stained nights somewhere in that dark room she was locked in she slipped off into another deeper kind of sleep I'm sorry it was all I could think to say he heard my voice quiver with sadness no don't be it's a beautiful way to go out painless happy innocent trouble with dying later is that it's too late the damage is done he had an odd way of reassuring me you want kids he asked I shrugged I had never really given it any thought don't he responded almost contemptuously I think of how arrogant and cruel it is to force a soul out from the ether into the sack of rotting flesh to condemn a life to walk blindly in this meat grinder sometimes I think I should go thank that drunk for getting behind the wheel after one too many they spared me the sin of being a father I confided in him that I believed there was more to life than just soul-crushing pain and grinding worthlessness that now more than ever people can act in ways that can change the world for the better he disagreed you see this is what I'm talking about he said evidently growing a little frustrated as he threw down his second cigarette and repeated the action of stamping it out sure there are broader ideas in play mainly what is shared between us as a species for our mutual illusions ever seen a dead body he asked me I nodded slowly then you'll know you look in their eyes even in the picture you can still read them you know what I see I see that they welcomed it when it finally came not at first but right there in the final moment its relief they were afraid and now they see for the very first time how easy it was to just let it all go in those last few seconds of life they saw what they were what they had always been you me them this whole comic tragedy was never more than thrown together presumptions and stupid blind will and what you need to do is just let go to finally know that you didn't have to hold on so tight to realize that all your life all your love all your hate all your memories all your heartache it was all just the same thing it was all the same dream a dream that you had inside a locked room a dream about being person mr. Cole started to walk away the keys to his truck jangling as he pulled them from his pocket good luck kid you're gonna need it I moved out of town now to a coastal city where the people aren't like those stuck in small Arizona towns sometimes I think mr. Cole was wrong but there is a brighter side to existence that he neglected to touch upon but sometimes in darker moments as I'm lying in bed after long days spent working in a cramped sterile office space mr. Cole's words run through my mind they bounced off the walls of my skull refusing to relinquish my fierce beating on my doubts it's in those moments that I know mr. Cole was right [Music] mr. Shenko was the toughest teacher in her high school he was a six-foot-something bear of a man who marched around campus with a look on his face that even the most unruly of students found daunting having emigrated from Eastern Europe after the collapse of the old Soviet Union he spoke with a heavy accent but his English was perfect he taught physics in an emotionless sterile manner on his bad days his tone of his voice could be described as a bark one day during an unusually interesting class mr. Cervenka was going over the different types of radiation that existed a studious pupil in the front row raised a hand to ask him how he knew so much about the subject I did some work for a power plant on my home country he replied dryly turning to the chalkboard and beginning a crudely drawn diagram one of the jocks who was known for being somewhat of a bully made a comment about how it was probably the one that blew up mr. shebang cows chalk sticks snapped the hand that gripped the broken piece trembled as he lowered it to a side with an audible sigh the teacher turned back around his eyes fixed on the disrespectful bully have you ever seen your friends die mr. spank OS softly it was the first time any of us had ever heard him talk in a way that didn't make us flinch but somehow his tone was even more frightening than before the jock didn't respond I asked you a question boy the jock remained silent his cheeks turned a shade of crimson as mr. shengo's beady brown eyes or into him with the same flat facial expression the furious teacher walked towards the classrooms door the room shifted as he locked it new lesson today close your books um mr. Schenk Oh sir a nervous looking girl and glasses raised her hand she was unable to hide the raw fear in her voice I don't feel comfortable you thank the boy with big mouth later this is a collective punishment mr. spank Oh hist taking a seat at his desk we waited the tension thick in the air as we dreaded to think when mr. Cherenko had in store for us we'd never seen him as angry as he was now some people even said they'd smelled alcohol on his breath some days I felt a knot of fear in my guts as I pictured the morbid newspaper headlines that might follow the next day the most important time of life happened before any of you were even born mr. Shenker began it was the 25th of April 1986 the day the entire world ended for my town I had recently returned from Moscow after studying nuclear physics at the University there I was glad to be home it was the start of a new life for me I had a girlfriend I hoped to marry once I found work Pripyat was a beautiful place forests nearby streams for fishing we were happy there that evening was warm with a clear cloudless sky above prypiat was a ceiling of stars a blanket of celestial bodies that you could lose yourself in for hours but that same night an accident that occurred near our town changed my life forever an accident that occurred at I knew what he was going to say before he said it the words were my lips before he even uttered them it's your noble nuclear power plant there was a saying in my homeland we pretend to work and the government pretends to pay us the class could see the sadness and our teachers eyes as he spoke it was like that back then communism had destroyed people's desire to better themselves leaders of incompetence and corruption meant that there was a design flaw on one of the new reactors when the safety test began the reactor was like a loaded gun just waiting to go off so when the control rods were removed to raise power again he calmly looked over to the disrespectful jock narrowing his eyes as he leaned into his desk bull mr.sheng cows roar sent the jock reeling in a seat the rest of our class didn't fare too well either we were gripped hanging on to our teachers every word but what no one knew thanks to years of error and coverup was that there was a fatal flaw in the reactor design that made it unstable at low power levels as power levels were lowered in preparation for the test they dropped too low and the reactor ground to a halt meanwhile unseen a dangerous hotspot was building deep in the reactor two huge explosions that shook the earth beneath our feet every man woman and child in Pripet heard the banks but we had no idea what it was some of the off duty workers feared the worst but none of us could have fathomed that what was about to unfold was the worst nuclear disaster in history I felt the shock wave as I looked towards at the power station a pillar of smoke rose up in the clear night sky and though the inky blackness of the nights I made out twinkles of flame in the distance some of the people in my apartment block thought war had broken out then myself and the people of prypiat watched in awe and terror as the huge stream of ionizing radiation shot into the heavens lighting up the night with a hideous blue glow without the world was ending for us it certainly was people were terrified beyond belief but I must admit I found myself smiling as I looked out into the night it was Titanic like looking at the face of God a gargantuan mass of pure energy it was it was beautiful the melancholic look never left mr. Franco's eyes even if a small nostalgic grin did curl his lips but that it was only the start of it what came after both as a result of the accident and of the government's mishandling of it was much more horrific the teacher never took his eyes off the jock as if every single word was directed at him it must have been torturous it certainly was for the rest of us we were forced to listen and we had no escape did you know that they bust a troupe of entertainers to keep some of the nearer villagers calm as they died of radiation poisoning let me describe to you one such performance mr. Shenker began relishing the disturbed looks on our faces a beautiful ballerina dancing her final dance strands of her blonde hair floated to the floor as she twirled I saw blood leaking from her nostrils down her cheeks as it seeped from her ears when she finished the children ran to her with flowers the hair and teeth already starting to fall out the generator stalled and for several months we were plunged into darkness the my complete in utter horror I saw the flowers and the children glowing in the dark there were a few gasps around the room one of the girls in the back row was sobbing quietly into a sleeve of her sweater the cleanup involved the work of 30,000 people continued the teacher there are less people in this town think of that 30,000 people they called them Liquidators a disgusting euphemism coined by a man too cowardly to call them what they were the condemned do you know what it's like boy have you had to look a friend in the eye and tell him to walk towards his own painful death mm-hmm banco ground towards the jock he looked at me like you would have no problem as long as it would have saved your own skin four million people suffered today from something that happened 30 years ago four million he stood up walking slowly towards the desk that's at the now terrified jock and do you think this is funny yes the jock shook his head violently still too terrified to speak his eyes begged for mercy yes you left you think that seeing children being burned from the inside out dying the most painful death imaginable never knowing why or how they were being murdered by something they couldn't even see you think this is a joke don't you no sir mr. Schwank Oh towered over the boys desk eyes wide and full of fury we waited for him to snap for him to beat the life out of this kid but he just turned walked towards the door and unlocked it class dismissed he murmured sinking back into a seat I've never seen a classroom of kids move so quickly in my life not even on the last day of school did we tear out of the building like that but on the way out I slowed stopping near mr. Franco's desk and feeling the anxiety build mr. Schwank oh he looked up at me that same sadness filling his eyes as I spoke I'm sorry he just nodded and without another word I departed I went to a good high school one nestled in a leafy green suburb it was selectively exclusive and we rarely had any trouble among the students the PTAs idea of drama was if two moms brought the same cake to a bake sale scandal just wasn't a word in our lexicon but I do remember one event that caused shockwaves among the parents and teachers one that had terrified parents up in arms about the house such a strange and worrying occurrence was even allowed to unfold good morning class a strange silence fell over the classroom the man who just walked in the room wasn't our regular teacher in fact none of us had ever laid eyes on him in our lives you can call me mr. wits bold and to be your substitute teacher for the next two hours mr. wibbles said writing his name and big block capitals in the chalkboard he was well-groomed but there was something off about him like he possessed only an appearance of dapper Ness like there was something deeply wrong below the surface today we'll be studying a little biology perhaps the most fascinating of all the sciences Oh mr. Witt Spode sir a studious looking boy in the front row raised his hand this is English class shouldn't we the boy cut himself off and lowering his hand nervously as the teacher stared unblinkingly at him he didn't say a word but we all felt the weight of that stare crush the talkative young student as I was saying the teacher continued today will be studying biology and I promise not a single one of you will find today's lesson boring the respiratory system is perhaps one of the most complex the body possesses mr. Witt Spode began drawing a rough diagram of some lungs on the chalkboard its function is to transfer extraneous oxygen to the body cells via hemoglobin in the blood can a new student tell me how long the body can survive without oxygen in the substitute teacher turn and face the class now the smile in a space somehow too wide and we shifted silently in our seats three minutes continue mr. wits bold it takes just three minutes for the body to experience what is known as hypoxia should oxygen delivery to cells become insufficient over a prolonged period of time the subjects brain shuts down into a comatose state in order to preserve oxygen if a ready supply is not returned well complete self shutdown occurs however time until expirations is even less in the vacuum of space back in 1971 the Soviet cosmonauts died when a system's fault caused their spacecraft to depressurize shortly before re-entry into the Earth's atmosphere the crew died within 30 to 40 seconds as air pressure is required to deliver oxygen to the brain isn't that fascinating it wasn't the morbidly academic descriptions that disturbed us it was mr. wibbles delivery he seemed fascinated by such murrow's information like it gave him great joy to educate us on it I find the human body to be enthralling you see the thin sickly looking teacher wandered back and forth before the class as he spoke so durable it's so fragile our spirits can leave an indelible mark upon the world yet our bodies are mere shadows and dust for example mankind has mastered every terrain planet Earth has to offer take the hardy Bedouin of the Arabian deserts or the resilient Eskimo of the Arctic Circle yet can anyone here tell me how much body temperature is required to drop before ill effects are felt again the class was silent some fidgeted nervously in their seats feeling the tension hanging in the air is mr. wits bald stalked the rows of deaths just two degrees if core temperatures falls by a trivial two degrees hypothermia begins to set in low temperatures change the speed of different chemical reactions that the body needs to continue functioning slowing them throws delicate systems out of balance the person will start to lose consciousness the heart will then lose its rhythm secession of vital signs follows at about 24 degrees when the heart stops the mousy girl who sat in front of me visibly shuddered a similar minuscule rise in body temperature can also be catastrophic to a person's health at temperatures higher than 41.5 degrees a person may begin to suffer from cambodians irreversible brain damage can occur at temperatures above forty two point five degrees blood thickens and slows the kidneys stop working the heart muscle can be damaged and skeletal muscles start breaking down essentially this is what we call and described as a multi organ failure but more specifically it's when the brain begins to cook you stand mister wits bold pointed towards the shy mousy girl sitting in front of me she sat up in her chair horrified that she was being selected for anything by such an eerie individual mister wits bold slid the chair from behind the teacher's desk and placed it at the head of the class sit he commanded his tone still warm and friendly his smile still far too wide slowly the shy girl rose from her seat treading carefully up the Isle of deaths with the terrified look in her eyes she was practically catatonic by the time she sat down in the teacher's chair beyond mortified no despite being so incredibly fragile the human body is in many ways immensely durable mr. wits bold was standing behind the shy girl now standing perhaps just a little too close for example if I were to take a large sharpened implement and remove this promising young woman's head the nervous system would actually continue to function if only for a short while electrical energy trapped between synapses might swell cause her decapitated body to stand and take a few panic steps before crumpling while the eyes continue to send images to the visual cortex in all likelihood she would be able to watch the entire fascinating performance unfold isn't that something the shy mousy girl hoping that mr. wits boats from McCobb demonstration was over began to rise from the teacher's desk to her absolute horror she found his hands on her shoulders forcing her back down into the chair where do you think you're going my dear he asked with a wolfish grin I'm not done with you yet no those of you that think a decapitation to be a particularly grim form of demise I must inform you that you're sadly mistaken there are many many worse ways to expire mr. wits bold kept his hands on the shy girls shoulders scoff ISM sometimes known as the boats was a method of execution designed by the ancient Persians to cause as much suffering as possible before death he began the class was on tender hooks now hadn't gone to his every word the only accurate descriptions that we have are from the person's oldest rivals and mortal enemies the Greeks the victim would be trapped inside a bath or hollowed-out tree trunk with just their head hands and feet protruding and the subject would be force-fed milk and honey to the point at which they developed horrendous diarrhea at this point more milk and honey would be poured all over them particularly the hands and face the class was utterly dumbstruck unable to quite believe what they were hearing the idea was that as the boats filled with the aforementioned milk and honey budding and burrowing insects would overwhelm the subject inflicting a horrendous kind of torture the swarm would simply drive the victim mad as this combined with whatever injuries were inflicted the torture was dragged out for as long as possible but death would eventually come as a result of dehydration starvation exhaustion and septic shock just as mr. wits bowled was launching into another horrific description of exploration the period bell sounded at first some of the class was too scared to move we normally rushed out of the room as soon as the period was over but this was different we were rendered almost immobile by the torturous words of the substitute teacher complaints were made and an inquiry was held parents wanted to know just how such a man could slip through the system some took their children out of the school citing trauma and stress disorders brought on from the experience I know I never ever saw the shy massy girl at school again as a matter of fact I never saw or heard of mr. wits bold again but that's something I find myself thanking God for every single day [Music] Scotland is an old and wild place it's there that the unstoppable expansion of the mighty Roman Empire was halted firmly in its tracks Legionnaire veterans hardened by years of armed conflict on these savage fringes of the Imperium were turned back once they reached the land that they called caldonia it had always been somewhat of a mystery to my high school history teacher as to why such a powerful organized force stopped in its tracks some scholars note the lack of Natural Resources explaining that the Empire had nothing to gain from conquering Scotland but thick ancient forests would have yielded millions of tons of lumber to fuel the Empire's war machine not to mention the abundant red iron ore buried in Scotland's vast rolling hills regardless mr. Lennon believed that the answer to the age-old question actually did reside in the lands seemingly infinite impenetrable forests for there is something that exists in the dark damp woodlands of old Caledonia something that was once worshipped before it slipped into rumor and legend something that was here long before humanity and will be here long after we're gone we were excited when mr. Lennon informed us that our class would be eligible for the week-long field trip to Edinburgh in hindsight maybe we shouldn't have been as Americans abroad we were often objects of curiosity viewed as practically exotics by many of the local populace two of my buddies and I formed a kind of homesick Americans Club who saw themselves as a trio of Marauders from the old colonies pillaging the lands of their ancestors it will do us a world of good to take a break from city living mr. Lennon said with a wide smile stepping off onto the railway platform of a small Scottish town some of you kids are unaware that there's a world outside of your cellphone's we were headed for a place known as maybe forest a few hundred square miles of lakes hills and woodland with only a handful of trails to divide it up it was a chill October morning as our group of twenty or so students made the short hike out of town they ain't no mind to the locals who eyed us suspiciously from grubby windowpanes not even a half hour had passed but already I was regretting having packed so much in my backpack the straps dug into my shoulders so hard it felt like they were cutting off circulation I had to rest my thumb's under them just to keep the ache at bay naturally it was a great relief when mr. Lennon called a five minute break I'd never been so relieved to be off my feet the autumn Sun was an afternoon decline as we continued to trudge along the narrow country lanes the strain of lugging my heavy pack had beads of sweat forming on my brow a dull ache now presents in my shoulders and feet it had been hours since we've seen any cars for people and it was beginning to show in our environment foliage at the sides of the road grew progressively untamed dry stone walls crumbling as twisting vines began to reclaim what was once mankind's we were getting pretty tired at this point we've been walking along all morning and it didn't seem like we were getting any closer to the actual forest the narrow country lanes flanked on each side by wildly overgrown hedgerows were beginning to look all identical as frustration grew some of the students begin to argue over which route we should have taken after an entire days worth of walking we had finally reached the end of the road the tarmac was cracked and weathered grass sprouted through the tiny fissures in the surface it was here that the road literally and physically ended swallowed up by nature as the vast sprawling forest opened up ahead of us it struck me as deeply unnerving seeing the road so inexplicably abandoned it was primeval millions of huge dense Pines that spread up a forest like an ocean of dark green I had never seen anything quite like it in my life by this point the Sun was beginning to sink towards the horizon transforming the skies deep blue into magnificent shades of pink and orange despite being hungry thirsty and disgustingly sweat soaked from our exertions we decided to push on we had to after all darkness was drawing near moving through the forest itself was hard work pine needles dug into exposed flesh while small biting insects feasted on us causing huge itchy welts walking behind someone meant that thin spiky branches would whip back into your face sometimes we would find a little clearing somewhere the trees opened up a little and we would get a good look at just where we were it was an ancient ethereal forest beds of moss spreading out before us mr. Lennon remarked that we must have been 15 to 20 miles away from the nearest piece of farmland even further from the nearest village and it was agonizing even the country boys were beginning to complain so upon reaching the first real clearing in the thick pines we began to set up camp the gorgeous golden sunset had become a ceiling of twinkling stars we organized our camp opting for a meager dinner of packed sandwiches we were worn out hacking our way through the pines had left us well and truly fatigued but this place was beautiful it was untouched or so we thought it started that night a thunderous noise echoed through the trees around us something that broke the ominous stillness of the death saturated clearing a deep otherworldly how unlike anything I had ever heard before or since assaulted my ears I felt nauseous with fear like I might regurgitate my measly breakfast all over the forest floor as the roar died down and that horrible silence returned once again we could hear the rustling of pines the crunching of dry twigs and pine needles in the near distance something was coming for us students screamed and cried hiding away in their sleeping bags or just plain panicking a buddy of mine came rushing up to me a look of pure terror in his eyes mr. Lenin's gone I tried looking for him but I can't find him anywhere we need to find mr. Lennon we ran blindly through the pines as straight branches and bramble thorns scratched and sliced any exposed flesh exhaustion didn't seem to be a factor anymore neither was the weight of our backpacks we tore through the forest at breakneck speeds fear and adrenaline providing strength and stamina that seemed almost impossible eventually I saw something through the inky blackness of the night something illuminated by a shaft a pale moonlight there were huge pine trees twisted and deformed the roots and limbs winding together in a kind of arcing cradle beneath them a large shallow pit that had been cut away from the earth every inch was filled with bones entire rib cages jutted out from the soil like animal traps long femurs yellowed and broken with age were arranged into intricate patterns in the earth beneath us centipedes and lice crawled out from the open eye sockets of cracked skulls their jaws hanging open a silent scream of death there must have been hundreds if not thousands of human remains half buried in the earth before us as my eyes returned to the twisted mass of branches and roots above us I noticed a doll glittering among the network of woven tree limbs withered steel helmets still with a few slivers of red plumage brass jewelry that had been intricately stitched into the patchwork of dry bones Roman coins more than a thousand years old were pressed so hard into the dying timber that the trees were growing up and around them half consuming the small pieces of bronze kneeling before it all was a shirtless hunched figure its torso tattooed with strange ethereal designs they were roughly inked not the word of a professional artist no they were crude ritualistic images the figure was whispering something soft but rabid repeating the same few sentences over and over in a guttural ancient sounding language the howls were louder now closer to the camp the thing was circling the students like hunters surrounding their quarry iron-willed patience the only thing preventing them from commencing the slaughter an absolute terror I crept closer towards the prostrate figure instantly recognizing who it was when they saw their face it was mr. Lennon he was praying mr. Lennon I roared taking him by the bare shoulder and trying to shake him from his trance mr. Lennon sir we need your help please I'm begging you please just help us I was so scared that I could feel tears forming in my eyes my voice cracking with the insanity of the situation unfolding around us sir wake up I smack mr. Lennon around the side of his head finally freeing him from his days he flinched violently coming to and looking around as if he'd forgotten where he was as he did so the house subsided he stood there the silence descending back around us still panting from our terrified exertions no one ever talked about the incident in the woods or how it was that such a terrifying experience ended as quickly as it began some of the students who returned from the Scotland trip were treated for symptoms of post-traumatic stress but they can never bring themselves to talk about the knife that had them suffering so terribly nor did anyone discuss how mr. Lennon's mysterious actions that night had undoubtedly saved us from a fate worse than death would I hadn't forgotten and I'll never forget mr. Lennon saved our souls that night and we can never never repay him for it my secondary school was old when you're a kid everything that was around before you were born is old but the Blue Coat school for boys was practically ancient founded in 1708 by the reverend robert Steiff he envisioned the school as a institution for teaching poor children to read write and cast accounts constructed from huge sandstone blocks with neoclassical georgy and masonry the school stands in stark contrast to the modern cityscape that sprung up around it passing the entrance exam and attending the school was as exhilarating as it was intimidating discipline was harsh but the benefits were many the feeling I got whenever I walked into the old gothic looking library building was magical it was a place at a time the smell of old books and Wood varnish made me feel like I was privy to all kinds of ancient secrets forbidden knowledge fits only for the eyes of the intellectually elite it was perusing the time-worn shelves that I came across the book known as the king in yellow it stood out among the dusty leather bindings thanks to its mustard yellow cover sliding the old tome out from its Snug space on the shelf I opened it to be greeted by a strange pale yellow symbol on the inside I had to squint at first straining my eyes to make how just what the odd sign was turning the page as my head began to hurt the printed text over leaf was tiny so small that I could barely read it this made my headache even worse I closed the book rub my eyes and placed it inside my bag for later perusal the next day as my English literature class was coming to an end and the pupils were filing out of the room I approached the teacher's desk mr. Brady was younger than most of the teaching staff and had always cut an approachable figure sir have you ever heard of a book called the king in yellow I asked picking my fingernails nervously as his demeanor changed dramatically mr. Brady froze slowly looking up from the paper he was marking why do you ask Martin he tried to sound calm and collected I sensed he was anything but well I was looking online at a few Martin he interrupted sternly have you found a copy of this book no sir I lied sensing there was some kind of trouble afoot I had taken the book from the library without permission after all Martin listen to me carefully if you find a copy of this book you must inform me immediately is that clear sir I I was just immediately he replied give me a look that chills my spine even to this day I kept the book a secret for the next week occasionally opening it and attempting to read the tiny cryptic text each time the same dull headache would return forcing me to cease reading I decided to stay late after school one night devoting time to properly trying to decipher the book's contents in an almost empty library I found a quiet sheltered corner closed off by huge oaken bookshelves with trepidation I took out the mustard-yellow tome opening it to a random page before straining my eyes to read the text it was laid out like poetry strange stanzas that made my skull feel like it might rupture at any moment strange is the night where black stars rise and strange moons circle through the skies but stranger still is lost Carcosa I was trembling my eyes felt swollen in their sockets I wasn't just reading the book the book felt like it was reading me I got up leaving the book on the table and stumbling out of the library so clumsily that I drew the ire of the bespectacled librarian I rushed to a nearby bathroom locking myself in a stall and with my hands gripping the filthy porcelain bowl I vomited so hard it made my nose bleed shuddering and spitting out the foul taste on my mouth I finally managed to rise myself up clean myself off and return to the library yet as I turned the corner into the little nook I had previously occupied my blood turned to ice and the book was gone and that was July of 2004 just a few weeks later on July 25th a Bluecoat pupil named mark blackwell arrived home after spending time alone in a nearby park his father was sitting in the family TV room relaxing after dinner mark went to the family's garage took a claw hammer from a tool kit that his father owned then walked into the TV room Mark's father didn't even look up before he was struck in the back of the head with the blunt end of the hammer the son he raised for 18 years proceeded to bludgeon and stab his own father so heavily that the police originally thought that the wounds were caused by gunshots as Mark finished mutilating his father his mother returned home and walked in on the grisly scene mark was waiting for her she would need to be identified by her dental records there was only one other people in the library the night I lost the king in yellow that pupil was Mark blackwell the following year I completed my end of school exams attending a celebratory event that signaled the end of our formal education it was a happy time the tragic incident involving Mark blackwell had slipped into the back of everyone's mind as the celebrations subsided parents and pupils began to depart school grounds I too approached the school gates only to be greeted by the figure of mr. Brady smoking a cigarette as aired off into space mr. Brady sir I approached him ready to unburden myself of the truth I I wanted to talk to you about about the book you found it I know he replied solemnly I just I had no idea that I know no one does he took a deep drag of a cigarette not once making eye contact with me I pause for a moment lost for words in the grim silence that surrounded us what will you do now I asked continue to do what I've spent my life doing search for that book and when you find it he didn't reply he simply stamped out the smoldering tobacco after dropping the button to the Darton and walked out of blue coat school for boys forever I've never ever told anyone this story I've never felt the need to but earlier this month I received some news that brought the memories of these terrible events rushing back to me my old English teacher mr. Brady had died upon learning that he ended his own life I contacted the police investigators charged with inquiring into the circumstances of his departure although they were not entirely at liberty to disclose information on the inquiry a kindly female detective was generous with what she had learned when I informed her that I was a former student of mr. Brady her tone dropped when I asked if mr. Brady had made an index of the books in his possession at the time of his death with a nervous voice she responded in the affirmative I asked her if any of the books in this index were missing when mr. Brady's body was recovered again she answered in the affirmative what was the name of the missing book and there was a pause as the detective consulted her case notes apposite seemed to last an eternity as I waited with grim expectation for the words I knew were going to be spoken the king in yellow she said with trembling hands I hung up the let's read podcasts is brought to you by Wix your one stop shop when creating your very own custom website for your business or interests I've been wanting to create a website for my podcasts and YouTube channel for some time where I can aggregate all of my utilities in one website and Wix is helping me accomplish this as I'm developing my website some of the coolest features of the site include the most technologically advanced website building platform available in that Wix code is creation without limits you can build a professional website any way you want use sophisticated technology to build advanced web applications build robust websites and web apps set up databases and content rich sites without coding collect and store content and user info use Wix code api's and javascript to control your site's functionality no HTML or CSS necessary create dynamic pages set up a single design style create hundreds of pages and update content in a click easily create application forms quizzes review sections and more used to collect user info everything is SEO compatible which is amazing start with a blank slate and design your website in any layout you want push the limits of web design built to look beautiful intuitive to use advanced features to look stunning set the image quality and sharpness of your photos give a true sense of freedom and that you can create your design to your lifestyle at advanced design features like video backgrounds image galleries this powerful all-in-one platform includes unlimited fonts design effects HD videos grids and layouts code capabilities and media galleries get it all in one business solution to grow your own presents as millions of businesses begin to use Wix to create their websites you can instantly connect your customers manage all interactions in one place use advanced business features automate your work boosts productivity built-in task management and reminder tools manage your workflow and meet your deadlines add chat to send real-time messages build customer relationships create and send pricing options to users start taking payments online and set up multiple payment options use advanced design features to tell your story online build your site with artificial intelligence that actually kind of pulls together all the particular things you have in your different social media web sites such as my example would be YouTube and Twitter and Instagram and it kind of pulls it all together to create a very customized website specific to you which has been incredibly helpful so far when getting started get complete personalization of your site use actionable analytics to solve you know any sort of IT problems you have voice recognition capabilities and chat BOTS which is pretty amazing now all of this is something that I'm in the process of building and learning as I go along with Wix which is amazing because they're really making it incredibly easy now if this sounds like something that you would be interested in getting involved in you can get started now by going to Wix calm that's WI x-com slash podcast to get 10% off Wix comm slash podcast

Channel: Lets Read!

Views: 472,580

Rating: 4.8202996 out of 5

Keywords: true scary stories, scary true school stories, true scary stories from reddit, true horror stories from reddit, scary true stories, reddit scary true stories, true horror stories, scary stories, horror stories, true stories, scary horror stories, stories from reddit, lets not meet, reddit, lets read, asmr reading, asmr sleep, ASMR, true creepy stories, creepy stories, subscriber submitted scary stories, subscriber submissions, true scary stories reddit lets not meet

Id: rEVFEJ-QBZo

Length: 75min 21sec (4521 seconds)

Published: Mon Mar 04 2019