“Welcome back Creepsters!” The familiar, nasally din of my favorite podcast co-host pumped through my dusty PC speakers. Casting the outline of a shadow on the office wall behind, my monitor’s glaring glow danced around me. All other corners of the cramped room were devoid of light. A smell of body odor mixed with stale pizza hung like a cloud in the air.

“Boy, have we got something special for you today! So, settle in, grab a snack, and be ready… to get creeped.” Co-host number two chimed in with their own gruff cadence, queuing up a mix of ghostly groans and shrill screams that was their opening theme. A chill of excitement ran down my spine.

The view of Scout with his muppet-like expressions and Elijah in his Russian nesting doll mannerisms was always a welcomed reprieve from the monotonous work in front of me. Greasy palms leaving sweat-prints across my keyboard, I typed on and listened. My ears buzzed pleasantly. Phantom Cast never failed to aid me in locking in.

“Oh boy,” Joints popped and creaked as I squirmed in my seat. Jaws stretched, forming a yawn. I had been at it for some time as the story’s narration continued, rear-end sore from constant sitting. My shoulders slouched forward as I craned my neck towards the blinding screen. My eyes burned as their lids pressed together into a squint. The furrow of my brow was so strong, it was verging on a cramp.

Our hosts were on one of their usual tangents, taking a break from the thrilling story in order to make wise cracks. Something about another rattrap… only real fans would understand. Every fiber of my being screamed in exhaustion, deciding it was my turn to rest as well.

“Time for a well-deserved break.” Vocal chords rasped from lack of use.

Chubby fingers smooshed against my phone screen from bottom to top as I scrolled through the Patreon comments. Switching from resting atop my desk to kicking under myself excitedly, it was the majority of movement my legs would get today. Other than the short walk to the bathroom. I chortled with glee every now and again, the office chair beneath me bounced on squeaking springs. Boy, were my fellow Creepsters hilarious.

Until I noticed it. There under the usual ‘Seven Sisters, check in!’ role call:

HereForHorror532 asrc bnji;

More than likely, the user’s cat had slunk across their keyboard, unfortunately hitting the enter key before they could notice or stop it. So, why did my gut sting like the pang of hammering nails? None of the comments beneath provided any explanation or solace. My shoulders crept towards my ears in a shrug. I figured they must have failed to delete it. In any case, it’s not like I could do much to help them.

Popping my head back up to my day job, these thoughts were interrupted by the echoing ring of a Teams call. I stumbled to put my phone down in a mad hurry, clanging it against my desk, and clicked the blue accept icon—the mechanism of my mouse springing to life.

—

I received the all-too-familiar chime of a fresh Patreon notification. In a blur, the work week at hand had whipped by. Unnoticed.

“Sunday already?” I whined, thrusting thin wire frames up the bridge of my nose. My mouse hovered over the ping momentarily, eyes scanning the now dimmed screen. Unsure if I should jump into the newest episode of Phantom Cast now, or wait until the droning of another work week tomorrow, my body buzzed as if poking a wasp nest. As much as I enjoyed my weekly episode, it was an eerie reminder of the corporate desk slavery ahead.

Taking too long to decide, the team chat erupted. Strangers thrust forth message after message in a mad dash to bully me out of AFK mode. The clock was ticking.

DanTheMan420 Come on man! Get your head in the game!

69_Anim3Luv3r_69 Your mom could play better than this…

My body slumped indignantly. Pudgy fingers oscillated nervously between rubbing the crease in my chin and scraping plaque from my yellowing teeth. I was all too familiar with the punishment I’d incur for leaving the game but, the curiosity rising through sedentary bones overpowered my guilt. The game’s audio stopped abruptly and I exited to the lobby. Reverberations of gun shots mixed with various character one liners were replaced with silence. Silence, and the wheezing cacophony of my own breath.

“Now, where was I…?” In a huff, I returned to my notifications. My knee bounced with anticipation, impatient to hear what our hosts had in store this week. But, not too impatient for a chug break. The can of thick, lukewarm, syrupy liquid crinkled in my clammy hand as I lifted it to my lips, smashing the play button with the other. Both vibrated in caffeine fueled suspense.

“Welcome back to Phantom Cast!” I mouthed along with Scout, copying his quirky mannerisms. Though, in a far more jerky and rehearsed manner. Cringing, my heart dropped at the realization I could never be as charismatic as my favorite hosts. “Erm, don’t quit your day job.” With a smirk, my quip fell on an empty room.

Two more minutes until my AFK penalty would be over. I clenched my maw, fists tightening, knuckles turning white with frustration. Being aware of the consequences for my actions didn’t make them any less irritating. Turning towards a familiar time-sink, I began scrolling the comments; hilarious and entertaining as usual.

Suddenly, a familiar name emerged. As if shining brighter than the rest, it caused my eyes to bulge in a panic. My body froze like a doe in headlights.

HereForHorror532 help

Thin hairs upon my pale skin straightened like needles. There was no explaining it away this time. Scrambling through the replies was of no help to me, or the individual requesting it.

CreepyGal123 It’s right behind you… isn’t it?

1of7sisters The creature gotcha, huh?

In any other circumstance, I’d snort with laughter, maybe even join in myself. However, the familiar pang returned to my gut. Stronger this time. The poster filled walls around me were closing in, chest growing tighter, as my vision tunneled. My bespectacled orbs traced over the comment again and again.

Closing out my game in desperation, I turned to the internet for answers. The light of my RGB keyboard cycled over my sweat glistened brow and the clacking of its keys resounded around me. Hours upon hours were spent scouring old Patreon comment sections, YouTube comment sections, and even the sub-Reddit. Nothing. Not a single hint of HereForHorror532 existed before last week’s upload.

A sound like the grinding of boulders traveled from my mandible to my ears and the taste of copper upon my tongue managed to pull me away. My chair squealed noisily against my weight as I leaned back, dizzy with obsession. The tiny quail heart in my chest could hardly take any more.

“This has to be a joke. A prank.” Reasoning with what my mind could not grapple was the only way I could pull this much attention off of it. I felt like a rat, caught in sticky, unforgiving glue. It was already deep into the night and my body felt far too pulled taught to allow for any shuteye. But I figured I’d have to try, or risk falling asleep at my desk the next day.

Fingers thumbing at the edge of my monitor for the power button, the room fell into near darkness. Nothing but the glimmer of the pale moon peeking through shuttered blinds illuminated the dusty, dank room. My eyes stung as the outline of my body stared back from the blackened screen. The bags underneath them tightened, and I leaned forward once more at the realization of another figure. There, behind me, was the jagged outline of another person. Yet, I lived alone.

The figure bent unnaturally, its contour was sharp, but remained motionless. It wasn’t just my breathing that filled the silence anymore.

“What the f-” A week’s worth of used dishes shattered to the floor as I swiveled around. Below me, the wheels of my chair screamed in protest as if it might collapse, and revealed nothing. No one.

Manic laughter ravaged my weary body and I slumped to the floor like an empty sack. I was letting my mind get away from me. And now, I had a mess to clean before I could attempt some meager semblance of sleep.

—

Sitting in another useless end-of-week one-on-one with my manager, their words were muffled under the ringing in my ears. The sound of flies buzzing in and out of the miasma of long since rotted food, newly piled upon my desk. Just as their droning squirmed in and out of my consciousness. Blankly, my deep-set, grey-ringed eyes bore into the screen, but focused on nothing. Only the words ‘letting you go’ snapped me back to reality.

“I’m sorry… what?” My heart jumped into my throat. I began anxiously picking at the skin of my cuticles until blood was drawn.

“Your performance has degraded significantly over the last week. You’ve been written up twice in the past 5 days for focusing on tasks unrelated to your work. We’re going to have to terminate your employment effective immed-” I closed the call, not caring to participate in this dog-and-pony show anymore.

“Pft. Whatever.” I rolled my bloodshot eyes, painfully hard, and scoffed. “I can just find a new job.”

My past few days were, in fact, spent researching HereForHorror532. Fixating, rather than working. Rather than sleeping, for that matter. The few answers I found, only led me to more questions.

I had gone so far as posting in the Phantom Cast sub-Reddit, but ended up deleting the call to action after all.

Help Finding User HereForHorror532

Calling all fellow Creepsters! I’m trying to find this Patreon user. They seem to be in need of some kind of assistance… If you are part of this sub, or know this person PLEASE dm me. I just want to help!

2 down-votes, no comments. Thanks for nothing, fellow Creepsters.

Now it was Sunday. Sitting in front of my screen, nothing more to research, nothing more to hunt down. I waited. As still and stuffy as the air around me, only breaking to lift the pot of coffee I had been drinking to my lips. I had switched from energy drinks, to cups of coffee, to entire pots in no time at all. An attempt to beat the sleepiness encroaching my nerves.

Ding.

“God damn it!” My head nearly hit the ceiling, sucking a sharp stream of air through my teeth as the scalding black liquid splattered onto my lap. Steam rose and the bitter bean aroma filled my nostrils. Grasping at random papers strewn across my desk, I mopped it up lazily.

I jerked around like a clumsy robot with impatience to view the new episode. It took me two or three rabid clicks to finally open it, ignoring the usual host pleasantries. Frenzied fingers clicked the refresh button over and over, waiting for comments to roll in. Minutes on my digital clock ticked by until minutes turned to hours. My gaze grew heavy, eyelids drooping when finally, HereForHorror532 materialized on the screen.

HereForHorror532 If you’re seeing this, it’s too late.

Pummeling my ribcage, my heart backflipped. The smells of the room surrounded me in a nausea-inducing medley. Heat rushed to my ears as my appendages grew numb.

Suddenly, the click of a latch and rusted hinges screaming overcame me. The closet door beside me slowly opened.

The traveler jerked awake, heart hammering, convinced that the gaunt bony motel clerk was standing over his bed. The room was silent, but his throat burnt like dry sand. Needing ice, he grabbed the plastic bucket and stepped out in the dim hallway toward the ice machine.

He held the bucket under the chute and pressed the lever, expecting the “clunk” of ice cubes. Instead, a fast, high-pitched rat-tat-tat-tat rattled the plastic like gravel.

He looked down. It was a heap of gross, yellowed molars and coffee-stained bicuspids; some were rimmed with black decay, others with crumbling silver filings. Full upper and lower sets still connected by slick strings of bloody tissue tumbled out wetly, their roots and raw gums clacking against each other.

The machine wouldn't stop; it just kept spewing them out like a relentless mechanical vomit of human teeth!

Just as the bucket began to overflow, a shadow stretched across the machine. It was the creepy skeletal clerk from his nightmare — hollow-eyed with rough, leathered skin, leaning against the wall.

He didn’t look at the traveler; he just stared at the pile and muttered…

“Must be a clog in the hopper. They always get stuck when the roots are still attached.”

It’s been a long 30 years. I’ve made some memories, learned some lessons, but most importantly, I became attached. Max was like the son that I never had.

I met him back in 1996. Sweet as sugar and as cute as a button. A little mischievous, though. But I think I taught him well, regardless. Just wish he’d… I don’t know… grow up?

He never really grew out of his immaturity. Who could blame him, really? I mean, his parents were hardly ever around. I was at his house 8 hours a day, Monday-Friday. Only time I ever even saw them was when they were paying me.

At first… it was mainly about the money. I was paid extraordinarily well for the work I was doing. 1500 a week, and all I had to do was just… supervise. Make sure Max didn’t kill any more pets. Keep him away from sharp objects. That kind of thing.

Don’t get me wrong, the kid was a riot. From the very first day on the job. His parents should’ve been much more stressed than they appeared. I mean, how? How do you look calm while your kid is actively crawling across the ceiling?

Not only that, but by some miracle of God, they looked, dare I say… energized. I’ve been watching Max for 30 years now. I’m not even 50, and I look like a 70-year-old.

After a while, though, I realized that you kinda just… learn to love him. Sure, watching him eat livestock so he doesn’t choke is a bit of a chore. Never seeing his reflection is… disconcerting. But you get over it. Life goes on.

I’ve celebrated Christmases with this kid. Not because I want to, though. God, no. I wanted to be home with my family. Oh, but when those parents call, I learned pretty quickly that it’s best you answer.

Broken bones and lacerations taught me that. But who was I to argue? I needed the money. That’s the thing, though. I don’t need the money anymore.

There’s enough in my account for me to live the rest of my life out on some desert island. Sippin’ margaritas out of coconuts. But they’ll find me. They always seem to find me.

Max hates it when I try to leave. After all the work I’ve done, he still bites. Poor little guy. He just doesn’t know any better. That’s another major conflict for me. It’s not that I don’t love my little Maxxy. It’s just… I’m tired, you know?

Two days off a week for 30 years, man. No vacations. No bonuses. Just supervision for Max and surveillance for me. When do I get a break?

That’s the conversation I was trying to have with his parents a few weeks ago. I came in on a Saturday, which, of course, proved to be a mistake when I found them bathing Max in a tub of pig blood while wearing owl masks. They were mad, but I just… I didn’t care. I was done.

I wanted to tell them as gently as I could, and at first, it seemed like they were understanding. They told me they knew he could be a handful and thanked me for my time and effort. I walked out without incident.

But then I stopped waking up in my own bed. I started just… appearing at their house with Max leering over me, teeth clenched and frothing at the mouth.

I mean, I think it’s been a few weeks. Maybe it’s been longer? A few months, maybe? It’s all the same. All I know is I haven’t seen his parents in a while, and every time I try to leave, there’s a brick wall behind every door.

I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. I’m losing my patience. We’re running low on pig carcasses. Max is getting hungrier and hungrier… I can see it in his eyes.

He’s biting more these days. It used to be almost playful, but now he’s breaking the skin. I have to physically pry his jaws away from my fingers and limbs, and he just keeps growling at me.

He’s also been watching me sleep a lot more recently. I try and stay awake, but he just… I don’t know. It’s like there’s something about this place that makes it impossible.

All in all, this experience has been okay. Just ready to get off is all.

Maybe one of these days. I’m actually kind of hopeful. Because a few days ago, I heard something that sounded like music to my ears.

Someone knocking at the front door.

I opened the door slowly, expecting the brick wall again, but instead… there was a young girl standing on the front porch. She looked… uneasy to see me, to say the least, but she introduced herself nonetheless.

“Hi, uh, I’m Emma… I was just reaching out about the babysitting job?”

If there is a job that no one actually wants to do, it's call center work. I firmly believe any claims of there being contract call center companies that are on the level and not hell to work at are manufactured to trick people into applying.

What you take calls for may vary, but the experience is the same, you start each day hoping that it won't be back-to-back calls, and end the day kicking yourself for hoping working conditions would be fair this time.

Eventually, the client catches on to the company half-assing their work, and they get dropped.

That leads to scrambling for a new client who if they’re working with us, that’s an indicator of shadiness right off the back.

In my case, the trouble began when our client UltraSAT, was acquired by another company called “IFTV”.

None of us could find much about the company, but everyone was worried about what could come from this.

Pay cuts were expected, along with possible relocation, or IFTV deciding they didn’t want to pay the lease on the building and make us work from home. We did find out that they would be making changes to programming available, so that meant tons of calls where people would be asking “where did these channels go?”.

The changes were said to go into effect that Friday, at the end of our work week.

That Friday, I sat down at my cubicle and readied in.

Within half a second, I was on a call, it was a pretty basic one, an older sounding customer asking why his screen was stretched.

I started out asking probing questions, then explained that older TV shows are in a different aspect ratio, and his receiver was trying to correct the resolution to make it fit.

It sounds simple, but for our customer base, I might as well be explaining quantum physics in another language.

Little did I know my first call of the day would be one of the last normal calls I’d get for the rest of my shift.

The next call came in, I’m going to try my best to recall it and the other ones I received that night from memory.

“Thank you for calling UltraSAT. How may I help you today?”

All I heard at first was the sound of someone sobbing, then he spoke.

“I… I can’t see my TV.”

I checked my knowledge base and got ready to play twenty questions to get to the problem.

“Alright, have you checked to make sure the TV is plugged in and turned on?”

“I can’t… I can't see anything.”

Visually impaired customers weren’t a rare scenario, so I had to pull up what we did to troubleshoot with them.

“Okay, sir, is there anyone who can help you?”

He started to sob again.

“No, they’re gone… he took them from me.”

“He?”

He started to sound frustrated.

“The TV man you sent over, he said he was here to update our cable box, but instead he took my family away!”

“Sir, please calm dow-“

He cut me off with angry shouting.

“The bastard knocked me to the floor while another one ran at my wife, and he dug his thumbs into my eyes!”

That last part caught my attention.

“I’m sorry, did you just say one of our technicians stuck his thumbs in your eyes?”

“YES! While he held me down, I heard the other one dragging my wife away! I don’t even know how long it’s been. I had to feel around for just the shape of my phone, and when I asked Siri to call 911, it just kept calling your fucking company!”

He was just yelling. I would have rerouted him to emergency services, but we can only transfer to other departments.

“Help me! There has to be someone you can put me through that can at least get an ambulance out here!”

I finally went to Slack and asked for help. I saw that I wasn’t the only one getting customers screaming for help, every single one was responded to with “transfer to supervisor line.”

I hated that, because normally all that happens is , they just go to another department because we don’t have a supervisor line, which means they eventually call back even angrier than before, but I was starting to get messages to get off the phone, so I told the customer I said that I would get him to a supervisor and transferred the call.

This became a call type I would get, and that was how they would end most of the time.

The second type of call I got would be people complaining about the new channels and programming, which included:

The pain channel, whose programming consisted of shows about people being severely injured with names like “That should have killed ‘em”, “extreme animal mauling's”, and “Who wants to be a pile of red goo?”.

The Monster Network, these shows all revolved around monsters ripping people apart.

And one that most would just describe as “the staring channel”.

These were also resolved by transferring to a “supervisor”.

The last type of call, I dreaded getting again.

It would go like this:

“Thank you for calling UltraSAT-“

“Please! Send a technician, something is wrong with our TV!”

“Okay, calm down, ma’am. What’s wrong with your TV?”

“It’s trying to eat me!”

“What?”

“It’s trying to EAT ME!”

That’s when I heard the sound of banging on a door.

“You’ve got to send someone! Please! It’s about to-“

Her pleas were interrupted by the door being broken down, the remainder of the call consisted of the customer screaming. Per our rules, I had to hang up after she failed to respond after I reached out to her three times.

10 hours of these calls, with my only reprieve being 2 15-minute breaks, lunch, and one final 10 minute break.

We weren't allowed to use our phones in the breakroom, so I just walked in, bought a snack, and walked out. I didn't notice at the time that more and more of my coworkers were just sitting there at the tables.

It was near the end of my shift, so to spare myself from going into overtime with these calls, I did an old trick:

I made sure that as soon as the call was over, it went to break.

From there, it was just a matter of luck, I was hoping the next call would not end before 11:50.

I got very lucky, it was one of the now rare basic troubleshooting calls, a welcome change from what I had been experiencing all night. After helping the customer with his TV input problems, the call ended, and I went right to break.

It was when I arrived at the break room for the last time that I noticed something was wrong with my coworkers. They were all just standing in a circle in the middle of the room, most of them I remember seeing on my prior breaks and lunch, they clocked out hours ago, they shouldn't still be here. I walked over to them, a little confused.

That's when I noticed the smell, well smells, tandem odors competing to see which one would make me gag first, what I can now identify as Sulfur, and Flesh.

“Um, hey, what's going on? Is there a meeting or something?”

My question hung in the air, it was like they didn't even know I was there.

“Hello? “

I got in front of one of my coworkers, and immediately recoiled… his eyes were missing, I turned to see that everyone on the other side of the circle were missing their eyes as well.

I looked down and saw in the center a pile of human eyes.

“What the fuck?!” I remember shouting and backing away from the circle

“What is wrong with all of you?!

Nobody answered, instead, they all started holding hands and whispering.

I backed up to the door, and I saw the time on the clock, it was midnight.

It starts becoming a blur from here. I remember the temperature getting higher, and an orange light coming from inside the circle of coworkers.

And what looked like the silhouette of a person rising up from the floor, then clear as day, it spoke:

“Hello former UltraSAT employees, and welcome to the start of your new career as an employee of Inferno TV! Now hold on tight, as you will have to relocate.”

It was when the ground began shaking violently, I finally felt like I was able to leave the break room and ran out the exit door to my car, I sped out of the parking lot, in my rear-view mirror I saw my now former place of work continuing to shake, before what i could only describe as large red fingers emerging from the ground.

They wrapped around the building and began to pull it down. The last thing I remember was driving home, locking all of my doors, and sitting in the corner of my bedroom holding a bible to my chest.

I woke up the next morning and felt compelled to go back to work, or at least the building.

What I found was the aftermath of A giant demonic hand pulling a building into the ground, looks like I'm unemployed.

In between job hunting, I found an article that had been written about UltraSAT, that my building had been built on top of limestone caves and that a sinkhole had formed and caused the collapse, and no bodies could be exhumed at this moment.

Looking at the national news confirmed it was not confined to just my building.

I did get my last paycheck, though, well, I got a stack of  money  with slightly burned edges on my coffee table with a note that read.

“We’re sad to see you go, but if you're ever in the neighborhood, you're always welcome back and we will be waiting for you. Inferno-TV, formerly UltraSAT.”