Aug. 27, 2025

Academia Demonia - Back-to-School Demonic Horror

Academia Demonia - Back-to-School Demonic Horror

A Chicago hitman is gunned down in 1925 and dumped in a farm grave with a prayer for revenge. A century later, the first day at a small-town high school erupts into full-on possession: shadows walk without bodies, students cling to ceilings, phones glitch, Latin growls through the halls, and a serpent of sulfur chooses its host.

Chelsea Rizzoli just wants to survive the bell. Ethan Crow is gripping a Winchester, and something ancient is steering his hands. Before the doors open to parents and buses, a century-old debt must be paid… and Hell intends to collect.

Expect demon outbreak, mob-cursed revenge, and final-girl stakes—a collision of 1920s crime lore and modern back-to-school terror.

Academia Demonia by David O'Hanlon

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🎵 Music by Ray Mattis 👉 Check out Ray’s incredible work here !
👨‍💼 Executive Producers: Rob Fields, Bobbletopia.com
🎥 Produced by: Daniel Wilder
🌐 Explore more terrifying tales at: WeeklySpooky.com
WEBVTT

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First period attendance by lunch desks on the ceiling, Latin

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in the events, and a shotgun that won't let go of

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its owner. It's time for back to school, so don't

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get caught chewing gum and welcome to Academia deemonia.

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What's that you want to be scared? Come with me.

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You will experience tales over opera, ghosts and death.

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It is not recommended for the week.

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At heart, Heart listen as in the dark, it's more

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fun at that way way.

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This is Weekly Speaking.

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Hello, my spookies. It's Wednesday, and you know what that means.

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It's time for a little spooky in your weekly. I'm

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your host and narrator, Enrique Kuto, and tonight we've got

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a story to get you ready for back to school, baby,

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something that I honestly find truly terrifying. I mean, the

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story's good, but more so going back to school. But

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before we get to that, I want to say thank

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you so much, my spookies, for joining us as we

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prepare for the Halloween season. You will love the spooky

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all year long, but many more spookies will be joining

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us to enjoy the festivities in October and to make

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October extra special for all of us. I'll be providing

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thirty one shows in thirty one days right here at

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Weekly Spooky. Whether it's another short story, a novella, a

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horror movie review, or something entirely different, you know it'll

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be spooky and it'll bring the chills. So make sure

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you're subscribed on your favorite podcasting app. And if you

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want to support us, simply head toweeklyspooky dot com slash join.

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For as little as one dollar a month, you get

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two bonus shows every month and over five years of

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exclusive creepy pasta readings and audiobooks. That's at Weeklyspooky dot

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com slash join. But now, as for tonight, they say

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some schools are haunted by rumors, others by promises. One

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hundred years ago, a hit man was buried shallow and

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prayed for revenge. Tonight, the lights flicker, the shadows walk,

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and a serpent chooses its host. When the bell rings,

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class begins and something old is taking attendance, So get cozy.

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That story starts right after this Academia Demonia by David O.

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Hanler August nineteen twenty five. He crept along the side

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of the farmhouse sticking to the shadows as he pushed

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the shotgun shells into his Winchester eighteen ninety seven honeysuckle

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drifted on the night breeze. He pinched his nose, trying

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to fight the urge to sneeze. The man rarely strayed

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from the grimy comfort of the Chicago streets out in

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the Illinois Boonda. His allergies were giving him fits, and

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the goddamn mosquitoes loved his aftershave more than the wars

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on State Street. He couldn't wait to be back home,

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and it wouldn't be much longer, just eight pulls of

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the trigger. Once the sneeze passed, the man continued his

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slow stalk to the back porch. Something sat sourly in

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his stomach. Vincenzo Rissouli was paying a premium for a

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job that anyone could do. One nosey accountant, his family,

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and a four man contingent of state police. Rissoli could

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have hired a half dozen zips for what he was

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paying for the shotgun man. The man killed exclusively with

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his Winchester shotgun, so that was the moniker he'd been given.

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Gangsters were terrible at names. Admittedly, he liked the simplicity

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of the title and the anonymity it provided. Guys like

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Riz worried too much about their names. They wanted people

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to know who they were. They wanted to be feared.

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But the man knew fear didn't have a name, It

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had a sound. He racked the pump and kicked the

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back door. One of the coppers tried to earn his

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paycheck and capped off two rounds into the broken jam

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the shotgun man. He returned fire, turning the gunfighter's face

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into a part of the decorps. He had perfected his

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craft in the trenches. He kept the trigger depressed and

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worked the pump to slam fire the weapon. Unless than

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three seconds, the shotgun was empty and all the cops

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were down, three were dead, and one was catching up.

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The shotgun man pulled a shell from his bandolier and

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loaded it straight into the smoking chamber. He listened to

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the soothing death rattle of the one he'd caught in

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the chest. During the war, the Germans had claimed shotguns

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caused unnecessary suffering, seemed more like a perk to him.

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Feet stomped frantically overhead as the family upstairs looked for

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places to hide. He wondered if they'd split up. A

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witness with a clear description would kill him as dead

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as a cop with a gun could. The accountant had

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brought his wife and two kids to the safe house.

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The shotgunman hated shooting kids. They moved too much. Three

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hours later, the shotgunman stood over the shallow grave he'd

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prepared on the opposite side of the farm. He'd moved

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the eight victims from the farmhouse before setting it ablaze.

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Authorities would find no remains in the ashes, and if

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there were no bodies, then there were no murders. The

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shotgunman struck a match with his thumb and puffed a

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lucky to life between his thin lips. He held the

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match inside the stolen ford. There you are. He grabbed

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the boy's arm and tossed it into the pit. With

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the rest of the child. He started the grueling task

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of filling the hole back in. When headlights turned onto

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the gravel road, he watched the three pairs of lights

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jostling on the rough terrain. He dropped the shovel and

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retrieved his shotgun. The motors were too loud to be

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the oldsmobile thirty seven's the state police used, but any

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guest was an unwelcomed one. At a crime scene, a

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pair of Buicks arrived first, flanking both ends of the

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shotgun Man's model T. He couldn't see the drivers, but

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he knew exactly who they were. When the third car

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pulled in, a parade of flaming elephants would have been

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less conspicuous than Rizzoli's rolls Royce Phantom, the shotgun man

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watched as the goombas unloaded from their cars. A gut

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feeling told the show he should be shooting already. The

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Phantom's door swung open, and the gangsters stepped out, giving

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a wave to the assassin. Got him all pallly, Riz asked,

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of course you fucking did, Hugh Mook see that pit?

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The shotgun man always comes through. That's why he's gotta go.

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Rizzo whipped the Tommy gun from behind the door. The

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shotgun man never had a chance to move. The bullets

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stitched him up from groin to gullet, sending him into

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a backwards jig until he fell on top of the

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Knight's other victims. Riz had betrayed him, paying him off

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with thirty pieces of lead He could smell his gums

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cooking against the hot slug buried in his jaw. He

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was losing feeling in his limbs. He struggled to wrap

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his fingers around the walnut grip of the shotgun. He

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wanted that to be the last thing he felt. A

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shovel full of dirt hid him in the face, then another.

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He squeezed the shotgun tight in his dying grasp and

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prayed for revenge. Someone was listening.

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Don't go away weekly, Spooky will be right back.

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One hundred years later, Michelle Iomi and Dia Patel passed

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the vape pen between themselves in a butterscotch scented cloud

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that seemed to hang indefinitely over the picnic table the

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four cheerleaders had commandeered for their free period. Shahri Riley

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watched Ethan Crow carving into another table on the far

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side of the yard. What is he even doing here,

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she growled. We running short on rusties. Rusties were the

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people who lived south of the town's junkyard During the

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Great Depression. Children from the area would bathe in the

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creek and the water would stain their skin with the

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rust that washed down from the yard. Almost a century later,

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the pejorative was still going strong. Then again, so was

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the poverty school choice law. Dia told her address doesn't

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matter anymore. Well, it shouldn't apply to him. Shahri defended

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her stance. He's always given me the creeps, not the

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only one. Chelsea resolutely pointed to the far end of

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the school. That perv's been hanging around since I got

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off the bus. What perv? Michelle looked around. I don't

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see anyone that guy right, shit, he was right there,

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Chelsea shrugged. He's been watching us for like an hour.

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Maybe he finally filled his spank bank. You mean that

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weird guy in the hat, Dia asked, you saw him too.

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Chelsea took the vape from her right before I came out.

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Dia said he was hanging by the library. What kind

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of freak wears a trench coat? Dude gave me the

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serious dick. He was right there, though, Chelsea said, you

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couldn't have seen him inside I did. Dia squirmed. What

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if there's like a group of them, like one of

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those peto pizza cults. Don't be stupid, Shari rolled her eyes.

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This town is full of degenerates like hey, where'd Ethan go?

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Don Roberts kept his eyes on the map as he

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navigated halfheartedly to his classroom. He'd grown up wanting to

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be a teacher. After thirty years working in Chicago public schools,

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he just wanted to retire. This was his first year

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at LAHHS. It was a smaller school with less problems,

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but kids were kids everywhere you went, and kids were

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always little shits. His first year teaching, he'd been stabbed

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by a student. His last he'd been turned into a meme.

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Both had cut him deeply. Thankfully, he didn't have a

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class scheduled until second period, so he'd be able to

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get in a nip of jamison before the little bastards

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rolled in if he ever found the damn classroom. Roberts

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jumped at a shadow on the wall. The black shade

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of the long coat and the hipster cap were distinctive

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on the mint green paint. His eyes traced the sketched

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form back to an adjoining hall. The teacher took careful

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steps so that he could get a good jump out

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of the truant student. He paused at the corner and

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tried to wipe off the shit eating grin. Hey kid

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he shouted as he swung into the corridor. What the heck,

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where'd you go? Kid? No one was there. No footsteps

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had retreated across the speckled flooring. Yet the closest place

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to hide were the bathrooms at the far end. Windows

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lined one side of the hall, and Roberts glanced uncomfortably

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at his squat shadow directly opposite them. Despite the august

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sunlight spilling in, he found himself shivering. Roberts beat a

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quick path to the restroom. Okay, kid, time to get

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back to class. No one answered. Roberts walked into the

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men's room and heard the rattle of feet pulling up

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onto a seat. The teacher pushed the door. It swung inward,

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bumping against the teen's knee. The kid took out one

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earbud and held his hand out expectantly. You here to

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help me wipe, he asked, Pinch it off. Roberts nodded

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to the exit. You're missing class. I'm not missing a

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goddamn thing, the kid responded, Kid Ethan, The teen corrected him, Okay, Ethan,

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you need to get back to class now, or what

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Ethan snickered, you'll expel me from the place. I don't

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want to be for not being here a bit early

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in the year to be this defeatist. Bruh. I got

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forty six days until I turn eighteen. Ethan put his

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earbud back in. Hugh and the rest of the faculty

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can ignore me that long, then I'll get out of

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your hair. All four you got left, that'll be enough.

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Roberts grabbed the teen's arm. Let's go see Ms. Wardlow.

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He's back, Kevin Spacey. He shouldered into Roberts to knock

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him away. You can't touch me. This ain't nineteen eighty four.

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Then act your age and walk yourself. Why don't you

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suck these balls of academia pops. Roberts snapped a finger

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at the door. Now the lights flickered, drawing the teacher's

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attention long enough for Ethan to run for the exit.

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The bell rang, swallowing the sound of the door banging

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into the wall. By the time Roberts got there, the

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delinquent had melded into the swell of students escaping first period.

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I should have stayed in the city, Roberts grumped. Chelsea

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watched out the third floor window of her ap history class.

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The first day of school, normally had lots of vacant

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desks as the teens begrudgingly broke from their summer routines. However,

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by fourth period, Chelsea was sure something else was going on.

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Despite thirty six desks, only nineteen students occupied the classroom.

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Two of the missing had just been with her in

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trig She wasn't the only one that noticed. No one,

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including the teacher, seemed particularly interested in the curriculum. A

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sudden bang drew attention to the the room where Darcy

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Smith sat. Darcy stared at the book she dropped with confusion,

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but didn't make a move to pick it up. Chelsea

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turned to the window again and gasped at the silhouette

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of a man outside. Dia screamed. Darcy was convulsing at

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her desk. Foam flew from her mouth and her eyes

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rolled back before she fell to the floor. Most of

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the students shrank away from the violent seizure, clinging to

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the walls while pulling out their phones. The teacher slid

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to the girl's side. I'll get the nurse, Chelsea said,

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chancing one last glance around for the specter in the

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window before darting out of the class.

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Au sh it was only the wind. You are safe,

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weekly spooky, We'll be right back.

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Nurse McBride was occupied with her sixth case of I

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don't feel good for the day. Hunter Prescott made a

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show of holding his stomach while groaning. McBride poured him

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a shot of pepto, but when she turned around, Hunter

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was missing. The door was still closed, and she hadn't

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heard it open. She shrugged, downing the pink syrup herself.

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The first week was always full of whiners looking to

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go home sick. There were at least three waiting outside

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the office for their chance to try. A warm, wet

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droplet exploded on McBride's hand. She looked down at the strange, foamy,

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green yell spatter yuck. She raised her eyes to the ceiling,

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Assuming it had come from a second story bathroom. She

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expected a spreading stain of sewage saturating the overhead tiles.

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Nothing prepared her for what she found instead. Ethan sat

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in the janitor's closet. He'd been changing hiding spots every

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period since his run in with that new teacher. There

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were enough problems at home he needed to come to

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school just enough to keep the principal from calling the cops.

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Last time that happened, he walked into a door and

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spent a week in the hospital. Once he turned eighteen,

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he'd dropped and haul asked to Canada. Ethan leaned against

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the wall and thought about where he'd hide out next.

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A hiss emanated from the mop sink he sat on.

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A sulfurous scent wafted up from the drain. He fanned

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the smell away. The closet door inched open. Ethan prepared

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to make a run for it, but no one was there.

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The stench grew stronger with another strange hiss. Someone in

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the hall whistled a slow tune. He saw their shadow

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on the wall, but not its owner. Ethan watched the

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shadow peel itself from the cinderblocks. The darkness stretched away

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like black sinew, holding meat to bone. It snapped audibly

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as the shadow man moved to the doorway. We have

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work to do, the voice, coming from the walls themselves growled.

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The sea snake shot from the drain, twisting its massive

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body around Ethan. The shade stroked the snake's scales, leaving

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an oily streak along its length. As the serpent forced

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itself between the teen's teeth. Ethan's throat swelled as the

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snake descended into his belly. The shadow Man leaned over him,

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dripping shadow onto the boy like it were sweat. Darcy

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snarled and spat until she abruptly fell still. Miss Kirk

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leaned over Darcy's mouth to listen for a breath. The

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forked tongue dry licked the teacher's ear. Kirk fell backwards.

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Darcy lifted from the ground, springing upright on the tips

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of her toes. Her milky eyes moved between the students,

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then settled on Miss Kirk. Darcy's sneakers squelched on the

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tile as she glided across the room. Holy shit, a

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classmate exclaimed, Fuck the nurse get a priest. Darcy waved

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her hand, sending a desk soaring towards the student and

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smashing his skull between it and the wall. Darcy's spine

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broke with a wet crunch as her head continued, turning

279
00:24:53.240 --> 00:25:01.359
to face her fellow students. Pestis eram vivu us, she

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growled inhumanly moriense du amorse aeroll. Nurse McBride stared up

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00:25:13.759 --> 00:25:19.000
at Hunter clinging to the ceiling. He smiled until his

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cheeks tore open and his mouth stretched to an impossible width.

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Luminescent green yellow vomit showered over the nurse. Her shoes

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slipped in the chunky fluid. A rash of blisters broke

285
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out across her skin. Roaches and worms squirmed in the vomit.

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McBride screamed for help. Maggots wriggled from Hunter's pores, dropping

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down onto the nurse. They squirmed vigorously from the weeping

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blisters and chewed their way into her flash. Hunter dropped

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from the ceiling, pinning McBride to the floor. She stared

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into his ragged, gaping mouth, eyes shining like a cat's,

291
00:26:13.960 --> 00:26:19.720
stared back at her from deep inside his throat. No

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wonder his stomach had hurt.

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More scarce to come weekly, Spooky, We'll be right back.

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Chelsea banged on the door to the robotics lab. Mister

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Clark was a total nerd and would surely be able

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to help with Darcy, she thought. She threw the door open.

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A number of students were convulsing on the floor. Others

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were doing the same on the ceiling. Mister Clark tisked loudly.

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This isn't your class, miss results, he said. Chelsea stood frozen,

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00:27:04.319 --> 00:27:09.000
Unable to find the words she needed. She shakily pointed

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00:27:09.079 --> 00:27:15.160
at the students. She wanted help, She wanted answers, She

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00:27:15.400 --> 00:27:19.480
wanted to say anything at all, but there weren't any

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00:27:19.599 --> 00:27:24.039
words made for that sort of thing. The teacher turned

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to her. Clark's hollow eye sockets met her gaze. He

305
00:27:30.319 --> 00:27:36.039
was smiling widely with the organs staring at Chelsea. Held

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00:27:36.240 --> 00:27:42.960
between his teeth, he bit down, crushing his eyeballs. Ocular

307
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fluids spurted across Chelsea's blouse. She ran out of the room.

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Blood drained out of a locker, causing her to slip

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but not fall. At least three more lockers were leaking

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around her. Chelsea thought of the missing students. She pulled

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00:28:04.680 --> 00:28:09.440
her phone from her pocket. The screen flashed and flickered

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00:28:09.720 --> 00:28:14.200
in a pixelated rainbow of colors. She spotted the fire

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00:28:14.359 --> 00:28:18.720
alarm on the wall and darted for it. Her fingers

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00:28:18.880 --> 00:28:23.400
stretched for the white handle. Someone caught her by the wrist.

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The hand was delicate, but the grip was anything but.

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00:28:30.519 --> 00:28:36.680
Principal Wardlow tossed Chelsea's hand clear of the alarm. What

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00:28:37.200 --> 00:28:42.000
is the meaning of this, The prim principle demanded, Hi,

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00:28:42.160 --> 00:28:49.599
don't smell smoke out here. Something something is wrong, Chelsea stammered.

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00:28:50.759 --> 00:28:55.519
Everyone is fuck I don't know. They're sick. Okay, we

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00:28:55.680 --> 00:29:03.400
need help sick wardlow and gestured to the hall. They

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00:29:03.519 --> 00:29:10.480
look perfectly healthy to me, Chelsea. World around, the students

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00:29:10.599 --> 00:29:14.680
were filing out of the robotics lab. They crawled along

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00:29:14.799 --> 00:29:19.759
the walls and ceilings like spiders. Mister Clark stalked out

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00:29:19.799 --> 00:29:24.160
of the room on all fours. Classrooms filled with guttural

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00:29:24.279 --> 00:29:31.000
shouting in an unknown language. People screamed. A locker popped open,

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00:29:31.480 --> 00:29:36.640
spilling the mutilated corpse of a former classmate at Chelsea's feet.

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Don't run, the principal said, this is your party, kiddo, Chelsea,

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00:29:44.920 --> 00:29:56.079
damn sure. Ran on the fifty yard line. Ethan clawed

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00:29:56.119 --> 00:30:00.880
away chunks of turf from the football field. Nurse McBride,

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00:30:01.039 --> 00:30:04.799
with her face hanging in ragged strips from her skull,

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00:30:05.480 --> 00:30:10.160
crawled onto the field. She sniffed at Ethan and snarled.

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The teen continued his mad digging. Hunter dropped to his

333
00:30:15.279 --> 00:30:20.440
other side. Their hands tore into the earth alongside Ethan's

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00:30:21.359 --> 00:30:25.920
more students came to their aid. A long shadow fell

335
00:30:26.119 --> 00:30:31.240
over them. The silhouette removed its fedora as it watched

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00:30:31.319 --> 00:30:36.200
them work. In three hours, the final bell would ring,

337
00:30:37.319 --> 00:30:44.039
buses would arrive, parents would be waiting outside. The task

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00:30:44.599 --> 00:30:50.079
had to be done before then. That was the deal

339
00:30:50.960 --> 00:30:59.960
that had been struck. What is wrong with my phone?

340
00:31:00.799 --> 00:31:06.200
Da whined, It's an android, Michelle answered, taking out her

341
00:31:06.319 --> 00:31:13.000
new iPhone. Fuck. Her screen was an array of flashing colors.

342
00:31:13.799 --> 00:31:16.839
Others had encountered the problem when they tried to film

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Darcy levitating. That had been scary enough, but Michelle, Charie

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00:31:23.160 --> 00:31:25.839
and Dia got the hell out of there when she

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started ripping off heads. Scharie kept her back to the

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bathroom door to hold it shut. Dia paced the room.

347
00:31:35.839 --> 00:31:39.359
Michelle threw her phone against one of the mirrors and

348
00:31:39.640 --> 00:31:43.880
slunk into a stall. Are you trying to get us killed?

349
00:31:44.440 --> 00:31:49.119
We have to stay quiet, Chari warned, you saw what

350
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Darcy did. We need to call for help. All the

351
00:31:53.680 --> 00:31:58.359
phones are broken. Dia said, why is she doing this?

352
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Michelle's that bitch was always crazy. Schari pressed her ear

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00:32:05.359 --> 00:32:10.240
to the door. I don't hear anything. Maybe we should

354
00:32:10.440 --> 00:32:14.279
make a run for it. We need to shelter in place.

355
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Dia protested, just like the drills. Bad idea, the guttural

356
00:32:22.160 --> 00:32:27.920
voice said from within the walls. Darcy's face, now festering

357
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with sores, appeared in the broken mirror. She smiled. Her

358
00:32:33.720 --> 00:32:38.839
teeth were stained with blood and black bile. The bathroom

359
00:32:38.960 --> 00:32:45.000
door flung open, sliding Charie across the floor. Darcy floated

360
00:32:45.119 --> 00:32:50.640
into the bathroom, dragging her toes. She rolled a severed

361
00:32:50.720 --> 00:32:55.599
head like a bowling ball, to DIA's feet. If you

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00:32:55.720 --> 00:33:00.279
want to be popular, Darcy said, you gotta give a

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00:33:00.319 --> 00:33:05.240
little head. The ceiling tiles collapsed over the three girls,

364
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and a cascade of large, hairy spiders showered down onto them.

365
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The bathroom door slammed on its own. Darcy's laughter rattled

366
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like stones in a blender. Dia stomped at the arachnids.

367
00:33:24.079 --> 00:33:36.400
Then the lights went out. Ethan snapped the skeleton's fingers

368
00:33:36.519 --> 00:33:41.079
off to free the Winchester shotgun. It felt at home

369
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in his hands. He pushed the slide back to see

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a shell still in the chamber. He stared at the

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disembodied arm of a child. Mixed among the graves many bones.

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Nurse McBride slipped the bandolier of extra ammunition over Ethan's

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head and straightened it for him. The fifth period bell rang.

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Those that hadn't been possessed or killed would be cowering inside,

375
00:34:13.239 --> 00:34:19.679
praying for a rescue. The thing inside McBride snarled, it

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00:34:19.840 --> 00:34:23.320
knew all too well what it was like waiting to

377
00:34:23.440 --> 00:34:30.880
be saved. They'd smoldered for millennia, spewing unanswered prayers. Themselves.

378
00:34:32.000 --> 00:34:39.800
Hell's darkest soul had become their light. His revenge would

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00:34:39.840 --> 00:34:44.840
be their freedom. Legion would inherit the earth.

380
00:34:46.840 --> 00:34:51.280
If you're not afraid, then you're already dead. Weekly spooky,

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00:34:51.400 --> 00:34:52.280
We'll be right back.

382
00:34:54.800 --> 00:34:59.760
Chelsea watched through the locker vents as possessed students stalked

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the for survivors. A shrill cry echoed down the corridor.

384
00:35:06.920 --> 00:35:13.760
The students paused, growling lowly amongst themselves. Two freshmen sprinted

385
00:35:13.920 --> 00:35:18.800
past Chelsea's hiding place. A possessed student drove one to

386
00:35:18.960 --> 00:35:24.880
the floor. Others sprang at the teen's flailing limbs. Gunshots

387
00:35:25.000 --> 00:35:29.719
echoed through the halls of the school. Chelsea almost screamed.

388
00:35:30.519 --> 00:35:33.840
It had to be the cops. Someone's phone had worked

389
00:35:34.159 --> 00:35:37.639
and they'd called for help. That was the only thing

390
00:35:37.800 --> 00:35:42.079
that made sense, not that anything had to During a

391
00:35:42.400 --> 00:35:48.000
demonic invasion, Chelsea broke from cover while the possessed were

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busy ripping their victim apart. There was no shortage of

393
00:35:52.880 --> 00:35:59.639
freshmen anyhow. Chelsea hurdled a skateboard that zipped across her path.

394
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The rider, a future dropout named Kyle Long, winked at

395
00:36:05.280 --> 00:36:11.800
her from the ceiling. Foamy saliva rolled down his inverted face,

396
00:36:12.599 --> 00:36:17.360
etching the flesh to his hairline. Kyle dropped on to

397
00:36:17.480 --> 00:36:24.440
the floor. He growled and gnashed his teeth, complete abism.

398
00:36:25.800 --> 00:36:31.480
A snarl emanated from within him. Not that one, A

399
00:36:31.599 --> 00:36:36.800
disembodied voice commanded, we have a deal. The others are

400
00:36:36.920 --> 00:36:43.559
for you, but this one is mine. Non ducre duco,

401
00:36:44.679 --> 00:36:50.559
Kyle's demon replied. The shotgun boomed. Kyle's head flopped to

402
00:36:50.639 --> 00:36:55.320
the side, clinging to his body by ravaged muscle. The

403
00:36:55.440 --> 00:36:59.960
second shot blasted him down the hallway. Chelsea looked down

404
00:37:00.280 --> 00:37:06.079
the hall, expecting a savior. Instead, she saw Ethan Crow

405
00:37:06.760 --> 00:37:11.920
racking a fresh shell into his shotgun. The flickering lights

406
00:37:12.119 --> 00:37:16.320
cast a long shadow behind him, the shadow of a

407
00:37:16.480 --> 00:37:21.800
man in a long coat and Fedora. Her knees shook

408
00:37:21.920 --> 00:37:26.239
with a primal urge to spring into action, but she

409
00:37:26.440 --> 00:37:33.639
held her ground. Ethan, she said, softly, you saved me.

410
00:37:34.840 --> 00:37:39.360
The barrel shifted in her direction. Chelsea dived to the floor.

411
00:37:40.280 --> 00:37:43.840
Kyle's black blood had turned the tile into a slipping

412
00:37:43.920 --> 00:37:48.599
slide that carried her across the corridor. The shotgun blew

413
00:37:48.760 --> 00:37:52.960
chunks out of the floor. Ethan let out an inhuman

414
00:37:53.199 --> 00:37:57.559
scream as his prey scrambled to her feet and ran

415
00:37:57.760 --> 00:38:01.559
for the stairwell. He drew a shell from the bandolier.

416
00:38:02.639 --> 00:38:07.679
The century old plastic crumbled between his fingers, spilling powder

417
00:38:07.760 --> 00:38:13.039
and shot at his feet. He sprinted after her. The

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00:38:13.199 --> 00:38:16.400
team took the stairs two and three at a time.

419
00:38:17.440 --> 00:38:22.480
Ethan hurriedly loaded three rounds into the gun. His first

420
00:38:22.559 --> 00:38:27.039
shot reduced a cinder block to dust inches from his target.

421
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Chelsea flung herself over the handrail, falling the last ten

422
00:38:32.559 --> 00:38:37.639
feet to the ground. She heard Ethan land behind her.

423
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As she scrambled to her feet. Pain shot up her leg,

424
00:38:43.159 --> 00:38:47.079
but she forced herself to hobble toward the daylight spilling

425
00:38:47.199 --> 00:38:51.719
through the front entrance. The shotgun butt struck her neck

426
00:38:52.400 --> 00:38:57.119
and she sprawled out onto the floor. The black slit

427
00:38:57.280 --> 00:39:03.119
pupils of Ethan's yellow eyes gazed down on her. Venomous

428
00:39:03.199 --> 00:39:07.599
saliva rolled off his teeth, trickling onto his bottom lip.

429
00:39:08.639 --> 00:39:14.840
His shadow moved across the walls circling Chelsea. No more

430
00:39:15.079 --> 00:39:23.039
running Resoli, the voice said through Ethan's mouth. Why Ethan,

431
00:39:24.559 --> 00:39:31.960
not Ethan, it's he pursed his lips. I don't actually

432
00:39:32.199 --> 00:39:37.639
recall one hundred years up here feels like a thousand

433
00:39:38.000 --> 00:39:44.760
down there. Only name I remember is yours. I made

434
00:39:44.840 --> 00:39:50.320
sure of that. Every day the imps ripped my skin

435
00:39:50.679 --> 00:39:54.840
from my bones, and when it grew back, I carved

436
00:39:54.880 --> 00:39:59.440
your name in anew to make sure I would never

437
00:39:59.599 --> 00:40:04.760
forget who put me in that pit. I never did

438
00:40:04.840 --> 00:40:10.280
anything to you, Chelsea whimpered. Guilt is in the blood.

439
00:40:11.119 --> 00:40:16.280
Your blood knows me well. Ethan moved a hand to

440
00:40:16.440 --> 00:40:21.800
his bare head, and the shadow tipped his hat. Time

441
00:40:21.880 --> 00:40:28.199
to pay up riz. The shotgun man's silhouette peeled away

442
00:40:28.280 --> 00:40:34.320
from Ethan to kneel beside Chelsea. His frozen fingers moved

443
00:40:34.360 --> 00:40:39.119
the hair away from her face. He traced an oily

444
00:40:39.679 --> 00:40:45.039
black x onto her forehead. He gripped a fistful of

445
00:40:45.119 --> 00:40:49.440
her hair to keep her still, and turned to Ethan.

446
00:40:51.000 --> 00:40:56.960
Don't miss, boy, he said. Ethan pressed the stock into

447
00:40:57.079 --> 00:41:01.360
his shoulder. Tears ran down his chin as he lined

448
00:41:01.440 --> 00:41:06.559
up the shot. The possessed students and faculty assembled behind

449
00:41:06.679 --> 00:41:12.159
him to watch. When the deed was done, they'd be

450
00:41:12.400 --> 00:41:18.519
free upon the world. Legions snarled and hissed with anticipation.

451
00:41:20.039 --> 00:41:25.840
Ethan shook his head, mumbling apologies as he moved against

452
00:41:25.920 --> 00:41:30.239
his will. The barrel of the gun stared at Chelsea

453
00:41:30.880 --> 00:41:36.679
like a wide black eye. Ethan's fingers squeezed the trigger.

454
00:41:38.280 --> 00:41:42.440
Nothing happened. He pumped the bad shell to the floor

455
00:41:42.800 --> 00:41:46.639
and pumped in a new one. Chelsea swung her foot

456
00:41:46.719 --> 00:41:50.719
up to his groin. The gun went off, blasting the

457
00:41:50.800 --> 00:41:57.000
shotgun man's shadow. The immaterial spattered the floor. The shotgun

458
00:41:57.119 --> 00:42:00.800
man stared at the shadow of his severed arm. A

459
00:42:00.920 --> 00:42:06.000
distant memory followed him back from hell. The appendage melted

460
00:42:06.079 --> 00:42:09.920
into a greasy puddle as he thought about that night

461
00:42:10.599 --> 00:42:15.239
at the farmhouse. The shotgun man looked up to see

462
00:42:15.360 --> 00:42:19.840
Chelsea limping away from him, but she was no longer alone.

463
00:42:20.920 --> 00:42:25.360
A child held her hand, guiding her to the exit.

464
00:42:26.519 --> 00:42:30.039
The ragged stump of the little boy's right arm dripped

465
00:42:30.159 --> 00:42:36.960
sunlight onto the floor. Ethan fell to all fours, wretching violently.

466
00:42:38.079 --> 00:42:42.599
The shotgun man watched the serpent spilling from the teen's mouth.

467
00:42:43.639 --> 00:42:49.039
It coiled around itself, Its muscular, striped body withered, its

468
00:42:49.159 --> 00:42:53.719
scales flaked from its rotting muscles. One of the possessed

469
00:42:53.880 --> 00:42:59.920
fell from the ceiling, then another. The building trembled demand

470
00:43:00.000 --> 00:43:03.079
when ex screams filled the corridors of the high school.

471
00:43:04.079 --> 00:43:09.880
Sulfurous fog roiled from the lockers and classrooms. Hell had

472
00:43:10.000 --> 00:43:15.599
noticed their absence. Do something, The shotgunman barked to the

473
00:43:15.679 --> 00:43:22.559
assembled mob. Shadowy in human figures stood over the disoriented students.

474
00:43:23.480 --> 00:43:28.039
Their glowing red eyes glared balefully at the shotgun man.

475
00:43:29.159 --> 00:43:33.000
The yellow fog swirled around them, dragging them from the

476
00:43:33.119 --> 00:43:38.559
hallway in a cacophony of screams and curses. A locker

477
00:43:39.159 --> 00:43:44.679
creaked open behind the shotgun man. He glanced one last

478
00:43:44.840 --> 00:43:49.679
time at his beloved weapon, and then to Chelsea as

479
00:43:49.760 --> 00:43:53.679
she stepped out of the school. The final bell of

480
00:43:53.800 --> 00:43:59.199
the day rang. Serpentine wisps of fog reached out of

481
00:43:59.280 --> 00:44:04.840
the locker and wrapped around his form. We had a deal,

482
00:44:05.760 --> 00:44:11.159
he whispered. The fog ripped him backwards, and the locker

483
00:44:11.920 --> 00:44:20.719
slammed shut. Chelsea squinted against the afternoon sun at the

484
00:44:20.840 --> 00:44:25.679
crowd gathered in front of the school. Emergency lights flashed

485
00:44:25.760 --> 00:44:29.840
on top of police cars and fire trucks. The warm

486
00:44:29.960 --> 00:44:33.480
grip of the child's hand faded, and she looked down

487
00:44:33.639 --> 00:44:39.159
to find him missing entirely. The other students, the ones

488
00:44:39.199 --> 00:44:43.440
who survived, began staggering out of the doors behind her.

489
00:44:44.480 --> 00:44:49.239
Yellow tendrils of fog drifted around their feet and dissipated

490
00:44:49.559 --> 00:44:55.400
into the air. The students stumbled around, murmuring amongst themselves.

491
00:44:56.280 --> 00:45:00.239
No one remembered what had happened. No one knew why

492
00:45:00.360 --> 00:45:04.039
they were filthy, or could taste the blood and meat

493
00:45:04.599 --> 00:45:10.199
of their classmates still in their mouths. Chelsea sat on

494
00:45:10.280 --> 00:45:14.840
the steps and hugged her knees to her chest. She

495
00:45:15.079 --> 00:45:19.719
saw the one armed child walking through the throngs of

496
00:45:19.880 --> 00:45:25.400
sobbing parents rushing to their children at the edge of

497
00:45:25.480 --> 00:45:34.719
the lot. His family waited to take him home. Well.

498
00:45:34.960 --> 00:45:39.519
The bell rang, but not everyone went home. The shadows

499
00:45:39.639 --> 00:45:44.360
folded back into the walls for now. Huge thank you

500
00:45:44.480 --> 00:45:49.079
to David O'Hanlon for such a truly mesmerizing and a

501
00:45:49.159 --> 00:45:52.920
bit sticky of a back to school episode here at

502
00:45:52.960 --> 00:45:55.920
Weekly Spooky, and thank you guys so much for tuning

503
00:45:55.960 --> 00:46:00.280
in again. Make sure you're subscribed, because every Wednesday there's

504
00:46:00.320 --> 00:46:03.800
a scary story for you to enjoy, and on Mondays

505
00:46:03.880 --> 00:46:07.400
we have a brand new, terrifying and true story. Whether

506
00:46:07.480 --> 00:46:11.559
it's folklore or true crime. There's always something fun to

507
00:46:11.719 --> 00:46:14.719
chew on here at Weekly Spooky. And if you want

508
00:46:14.760 --> 00:46:16.840
to support us in a very direct way and help

509
00:46:16.920 --> 00:46:20.159
us keep the show going for another six years and beyond,

510
00:46:20.599 --> 00:46:23.920
you can head to Weeklyspooky dot com slash join and

511
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for as little as one dollar a month, you get

512
00:46:26.280 --> 00:46:29.599
exclusive bonus episodes, two of them every single month, my

513
00:46:29.800 --> 00:46:35.679
undying gratitude, and over five years of exclusive creepypasta readings

514
00:46:35.760 --> 00:46:41.119
and audiobooks, all for your perusal at Weeklyspooky dot Com

515
00:46:41.559 --> 00:46:44.000
slash Join. And speaking of I want to say an

516
00:46:44.039 --> 00:46:47.920
extra special thank you to our Patreon podcast boosters, folks

517
00:46:47.920 --> 00:46:50.519
who go to Weeklyspooky dot com slash join and pay

518
00:46:50.559 --> 00:46:52.880
a little bit more to hear their names at the

519
00:46:52.960 --> 00:46:55.519
end of the show, and they are Johnny Nicks, Kate

520
00:46:55.679 --> 00:47:00.519
and Lulu, Jessica Fuller, Mike Escuey, Jenny Green, Amberhand's Karen

521
00:47:00.599 --> 00:47:03.599
we Met, Jack Kerr and Craig Cohen. Thank you all

522
00:47:03.679 --> 00:47:06.760
from the bottom of my heart so very much. And

523
00:47:06.840 --> 00:47:08.239
if you want to hear your name at the end

524
00:47:08.320 --> 00:47:12.000
of every episode of Weekly Spooky, just head to Weeklyspooky

525
00:47:12.079 --> 00:47:15.400
dot com slash join and choose a tear at the

526
00:47:15.519 --> 00:47:18.639
fifteen dollars a month or higher level and you'll hear

527
00:47:18.719 --> 00:47:22.639
your name out of my spooky, silky voice. But now

528
00:47:22.719 --> 00:47:24.480
it's time for me to get back to work because

529
00:47:24.519 --> 00:47:27.920
something special and scary is coming this Friday, so make

530
00:47:27.960 --> 00:47:31.719
sure you're subscribed, and for myself, for my producer Dan Wilder,

531
00:47:31.800 --> 00:47:35.679
my executive producers Rob Fields and Babbletopia dot com, and

532
00:47:35.840 --> 00:47:40.519
my composer Ray Mattis. I'll talk at you later and

533
00:47:40.960 --> 00:47:43.920
don't be late for class. It could be killer. Thank

534
00:47:44.039 --> 00:47:47.719
you for listenings. Make sure to find your way back

535
00:47:47.840 --> 00:47:54.320
next week Weekly, But for now you are safe, trust me.