transcript

Speaker 1:
[00:01] This episode is brought to you by State Farm. You know those friends who support your preference for podcasts over music on road trips? That's the energy State Farm brings to insurance. With over 19,000 local agents, they help you find the coverage that fits your needs. So you can spend less time worrying about insurance and more time enjoying the ride. Download the State Farm app or go online at statefarm.com. Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there.

Speaker 2:
[00:27] A great playlist, a great cocktail. Together, they make the moment mellow. Tonight, pour an unmistakable Manhattan with the balanced flavor of Four Roses Single Barrel and Antika Formula Vermouth. It's not just a good cocktail, it's unmistakable. Get the full recipe at fourrosesburban.com.

Speaker 3:
[00:49] Chilling Tales for Dark Nights.

Speaker 4:
[00:57] The following program is a production of Chilling Entertainment and the creative team at Chilling Tales for Dark Nights and a proud member of the Simply Scary Podcast Network. Visit simplyscarypodcast.com to learn more about this and our other weekly storytelling programs and become a patron today to show your support and get instant access to our extensive archive of downloadable Tales of Terror. Thank you for listening and enjoy the show. Horror Hill is a Horror Anthology Podcast, bringing you scary stories from all corners of the internet and beyond. As such, certain stories include content that some listeners might find offensive. Listener discretion is advised. Greetings, listeners, and welcome back to Horror Hill. As always, I'm your host and narrator, Erik Peabody. After the return of Ryan G. Peacock last week with his story, Space Girl, I figure we might make up for lost time and keep the spotlight on him a little longer. Tonight's story is titled Juicebox. Our protagonist is Emily McGuire, a life coach. Her job is to help guide people as they work towards achieving their goals and dreams. Emily is good at her job and has had some high profile clients, but no one nearly as prominent as Shea Blackburn. Shea is already a paragon of accomplishment, but now she wants Emily to help her as she pursues a new business venture. Emily, though a bit intimidated by Shea's celebrity and overbearing personality, thinks that she's just the person to help Shea out. And unfortunately for Emily, she's more right than she knows. You're listening to the free edition of this program. If you'd like to help support Horror Hill and also remove these pesky ads, head to chillingtalesfordarknights.com and click Patrons in the upper menu to sign up today. You'll get instant access to hundreds of ad-free stories. So what are you waiting for? Also, if you're watching on YouTube, do us a favor and drop a like and subscribe. Become part of our dark circle, listeners. And now from author Ryan G. Peacock, I give you Juicebox. What I'm looking for is to optimize myself, Shay said during our initial phone call. I see so many new directions I can go in. I'm just not sure if my current approach is the right one. Is that something you can help with? Well, yes, I said. Absolutely. I've helped over 40 clients rebuild themselves into more successful. Save the sales pitch. That's all I need to know. We'll discuss the details in person tomorrow evening at my place. I presume you have no issues having our first meeting there. None at all, I assured her. Good. Now, I will ask for your discretion in this matter. I like to keep my private development private. Given the position I'm in, I'm sure you can understand. Oh, yes, absolutely. Trust me, you're not the first client I've had with an interest in discretion. I would expect as much. And to be clear, I do mean absolute discretion. Shea said, Keep my name out of your address book and you are to tell no one that we are meeting. I recognize that this level of precaution may seem unnecessary, but I've run into problems before. Once again, I'm sure you understand. I told her I did. Sure, it was weird, but I didn't really think too hard about it. People made weird requests all the time, and it made sense that she'd want to be discreet. Not everyone takes life coaches seriously. Maybe Shay was worried that looking for guidance would come across as a sign of weakness? Judging by her reputation, she wasn't the sort of woman who showed a lot of vulnerability. I completely understand, I said, and Shay seemed satisfied by that. Excellent. We'll meet at my penthouse at 8 p.m. sharp, 2011 St. Teresa Street, top floor. The doorman will give you access. Supper will be provided, so there's no need to stop elsewhere beforehand. Sounds good. See you tomorrow at 8. Be early, if possible. I don't like to wait. That was the last thing she said before she hung up. Once I set my phone down, I let out the breath I'd been holding. I felt a little shaken after that conversation. But by all accounts, that was just part of the experience you got when talking to Shay Blackburn. Shay's reputation preceded her in just about every imaginable way. And going off our initial conversation, she was easily one of the most intimidating women I'd ever spoken to. Even over the phone, she had this aura of power about her. I'd never once seen a picture of her smiling. And during our call, she'd been curt and to the point. Although I suppose that wasn't really surprising given what she did for a living. It was odd that she'd reached out to me of all people, though. As stated before, I'm a life coach. My job is to help people build a path to achieving their goals, find their ambitions, find what drives them, break it down into steps and guide them along the way. I'd like to think I'm pretty good at it, too. I try to use a sort of gentle touch with my clients. I find that I get the best results if they see me as an advisor, not a leader. It allows them to more naturally grow into a leadership role, which they can bring to other aspects of their lives. I help them find their passion and use it to drive themselves forward. My clients are people who have dreams but aren't sure how to follow them, people who want to be more ambitious but don't quite know how yet, people who just need a little nudge to help them achieve their best selves. Shea Blackburn was not one of those people. Shea was the head of Blackburn Strategy, one of the fastest growing financial services firms on the East Coast. She wasn't the sort of person I would have expected to get hired by. Most of my clients are people who dream of one day becoming someone like her. They're people who want to achieve their goals, unlock their potential, and find the best versions of themselves, not people who already did that 10 years ago. Still, I wasn't going to turn my nose up at such a high-profile client, especially not one offering such a hefty payday, and I figured this would probably be great for my career. I already had a few high-profile clients, but no one like Shea Blackburn. I told myself that this was going to be the start of something incredible. God, I was so naïve. As promised, I arrived at Shea's building around 745, and the moment I entered the lobby, I was greeted by a tall, somewhat imposing-looking doorman. Name? He asked. His voice was low and booming. Um, Emily. Emily McGuire. He sized me up for a moment before nodding and gesturing for me to follow him. Our footsteps echoed across the plain granite floor as he led me to a private elevator. He scanned a keycard to open it for me before gesturing for me to step inside. Enjoy your evening, Miss McGuire. He said coolly before the elevator doors closed. I never got the chance to reply to him. I quietly looked over at the buttons. There were only two, one to send the elevator up and the other to send it down. I pressed the button to go up. As it rose, I felt a quiet anxiety gnawing away in my chest. As I said before, Shea's reputation preceded her, and I fully expected her to live up to it. I'd seen pictures of her before, and she struck me as the sort of person who was in control of every single nanosecond of her existence. Her long blonde hair was always perfectly quaffed, her clothes were always immaculately clean, and despite their designer brand, they had an almost Spartan uniformity to them. Plain blazers, pencil skirt, and leggings. She preferred black, but I'd seen her venture into shades of charcoal gray, slate, obsidian, onyx, and even sable. Her shoes were always the most expressive part of her wardrobe, but even then, she rarely deviated from some variation of black six-inch heels. For a moment, I almost wondered if I was a little underdressed for the occasion. Maybe I was. I wasn't exactly wearing rags. I'd picked out a professional, but nice blouse for the meeting and a comfortable matching skirt. I'd wanted to make a good first impression, but was this going to be enough? God, I couldn't remember the last time I'd been this nervous to meet a client. On the phone, she'd been curt and to the point. I had no reason to expect that would change. Maybe it would be fine. She was asking to meet at home, after all. Maybe she wouldn't be dressed for the office. I couldn't exactly imagine her walking up to me in sweatpants, though. The elevator doors opened. I exhaled the breath I'd been holding and stepped out before freezing at the side of the penthouse before me. Her penthouse was probably one of the most decadent buildings I'd ever set foot inside. I'd expected something fancy, but I couldn't have even begun to imagine anything like this. The floor was polished pale marble, with a sweeping grand staircase coming down from the left side. The walls were white plaster, lovingly carved. Various paintings adorned each wall, adding a uniform splash of crimson to the white of the walls. I wanted to get a better look at them, but then I heard the sound of high heels clicking against a marble floor, slowly getting closer to me. She rounded a corner just ahead of me, and was more or less exactly what I was expecting. Her clothes were professional to a fault and immaculate, with not so much as a fiber out of place. Her eyes were cold and focused. Her expression was stoic. It was hard to tell if she was staring me down with contempt or if that was just her default facial expression. Ms. Maguire, she asked coolly. Yes, that's me, I said. Pleased to meet you, Ms. Blackburn. I offered a hand to shake, but she ignored it, simply turning and gesturing for me to follow. Come, I've had a place set up in the dining room for us to talk. I obediently followed her through the penthouse, which looked more and more like a mansion the deeper I went. Most of the surfaces were an unblemished white with only a few splashes of color here or there. This place hardly even looked lived in. It felt more like walking through an IKEA showroom than somebody's home. I don't suppose you have any food allergies or nutritional requirements? She asked. Oh, I can't have nuts, I said. I've got my EpiPen, but— Understood. Just let James know what you can and cannot have. He'll take care of you. James? I started to ask. But before we entered the dining room, I saw exactly who she was talking about. A young man in a black chef's jacket and apron. Probably her private chef. Of course, a woman like her would have a private chef. James just offered me a gentle, albeit nervous smile. He's a master of a variety of wonderful dishes, Shay noted. Although I do enjoy his pastas. Speaking of which, I'm in the mood for fettuccine alfredo. Chicken, mushrooms, and spinach. Extra garlic, please, and thank you. Of course, ma'am, James said, before looking over at me. Fettuccine sounds good, I said. I wasn't sure if it would have been bad form to order anything different, and I did like fettuccine alfredo. James gave a nod before taking off. As he did, I watched Shay open a bottle of wine. She filled a silver wine glass before looking up at me. Will you join me? She asked. Sure, just a little, I said. She filled a second glass and offered it to me. It felt like real silver. I looked up at her, watching as she took a long sip before sitting down. So, about what I'm after, she began. Straight to business, just like I'd expected. Yes, you mentioned seeing some new places you wanted to take yourself. I wanted to get a better idea about what you had in mind. Diversification, she said. Finance is a promising enterprise, don't get me wrong. I've done well. But there comes a time when one has no more dragons left to slay, as it were. I need a fresh challenge. I was thinking about a few potential investment opportunities, small businesses. It's worked out quite well for a pair of sisters who've started running in the same circles that I do. They've made some impressive money off of their current portfolio, coffee chains, sports drinks, chocolate. I looked up at her. That description sounded awfully familiar. The Delaney's? I asked. Shay paused. She seemed a little caught off guard. You know them? She asked. Yes, we've actually worked together before, I said. Technically, I'd only ever worked with Alana. She'd been a client of mine a few years back. I'd met her sister, Ashley, on a few occasions as well, but she'd never had any interest in a session. They were decent enough people. Alana was soft-spoken and had struggled a bit with her confidence, but was overall an intelligent and capable young woman. Her sister, Ashley, on the other hand, seemed a little more bullish. She was the sort of person who knew what she wanted and went after it. I wasn't surprised that Shay knew them too. They'd done quite well for themselves over the past year, and while I didn't want to claim credit, I like to think that I was able to help them achieve their success. Interesting, Shay said. It's a small world, I suppose. How were they to work with? Oh, they were wonderful, I said. I'm really happy to hear they're doing well. Shay nodded thoughtfully and took another sip of her wine. Her eyes shifted back toward me, and she seemed to contemplate something for a moment before speaking again. Yes, well, they are doing incredibly well, she said. Well, enough that it's got me thinking about doing the same, although I'm not sure if that's just a passing fancy or something more. Well, you're in a good position to start making investments, I stated. You've already got a wealth of knowledge when it comes to finance, so you're already ahead of a lot of others. Why don't we break things down a little further? Why don't we take a look at some of the KPIs you're looking to hit? Shay's answer to that question was, unsurprisingly, incredibly detailed. Although, to be honest, I don't remember much about what she said after this point. I was taking notes at the time, but I imagine any notes I had from that night are long gone by now. What I do remember is that we spent almost an hour reviewing her investment goals before being interrupted by James, who brought out a feast, a chicken fettuccine alfredo that smelled like a garlicky piece of heaven, complete with a side of freshly baked breadsticks. Finally, Shay seemed to sigh as the food was brought out. We can resume this discussion later. I'm sorry if I'm rushing you to eat, but I haven't had much of an opportunity to stop for a meal today. I'm sure you understand. That didn't seem healthy, but I wasn't in a position to criticize. I just gave her a soft smile. One hundred percent, I assured her. The food did smell amazing and I couldn't wait to dig in. I looked over toward James to thank him. He just gave a half nod, although he didn't make direct eye contact with me. Looking back, I remember that there was a strange look in his eyes, and it's only now that I realize it was probably guilt. At the time though, I thought nothing of it. I was hungry, the food smelled amazing, and Shay was already eating, so I did the same. The first few bites were incredible. They were absolutely swimming with flavor. The garlic didn't overpower any of it, it just made everything better. James really knew how to cook. I noticed Shay staring at me as I ate, watching every bite like a hawk, as she pushed her own food around the plate. When she realized I'd noticed her, she started talking again. He's a talented chef, isn't he? He's amazing. I don't remember the last time I've had anything this good. Well, your health is influenced by what you put into your body, Shay said. It's part of why I enjoy a little extra garlic. It's especially good for the blood, you know, reducing the risk of clots, clearing out toxins, the list goes on. Really? I never, never. The words slurred in my mouth and I tried to correct myself. Never knew that, a half smile tugged at the corner of Shay's mouth. Are you all right? She asked, her tone bland and betraying nothing. I tried to tell her I was, but I didn't feel all right. I felt dizzy. James was staring at me now. Shay's knowing smile only grew wider. You're looking a little out of it, Miss McGuire. Why don't you rest your eyes for a moment? Let yourself recover. I didn't want to. That would have been unprofessional, but I couldn't help myself. My eyes drooped and the next thing I knew, I was falling. The last thing I remember thinking was, did they put something in my food?

Speaker 5:
[20:40] K-Pop Demon Hunter's Saja Boys Breakfast Meal and Huntrix Meal have just dropped at McDonald's. They're calling this a battle for the fans. What do you say to that, Rumi? It's not a battle. So glad the Saja Boys could take breakfast and give our meal the rest of the day.

Speaker 6:
[20:55] It is an honor to share.

Speaker 5:
[20:56] No, it's our honor. It is our larger honor. No, really, stop. You can really feel the respect in this battle. Pick a meal to pick a side.

Speaker 7:
[21:07] Bada bada bada bada.

Speaker 8:
[21:09] Participate in McDonald's while supplies last.

Speaker 6:
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Speaker 4:
[21:42] When I woke up, I was in a room I didn't recognize. I was lying in a cot pressed up against the far wall of a small bedroom. My head was swimming. It was hard to focus. I felt so out of it, so tired, and I could feel something pressed against me. Some, one. Their thick perfume filled my nostrils as they buried their face in my neck. It was almost suffocating. I tried to push them off, but felt hands gripping my wrists, forcing me against the cot. That was when I finally noticed the pain in my neck. A sharp, stabbing sensation. I could feel lips pressing against my neck. It felt almost like they were kissing me, but at the same time, that didn't feel like an accurate way to describe it, either. The figure looming over me pulled back, exhaling in satisfaction as she did. Shay looked down at me, and I watched her lick her lips clean. Hmm, awake already, she mused. Don't move, darling. You're still bleeding a little. Can't have that. Waste not, want not. She picked up something off the floor, it looked like a bandage with some gauze. I couldn't do much to resist as she pressed it against my neck. The bleeding should stop shortly, she said. For now, get your rest. I need you to build your strength back up for me. I'll need you again in a few days. What is this? I rasped. My voice felt weak. I was fighting to stay awake. You're new living arrangements, Shea replied. Don't worry, I'll tie up the loose ends and I'll ensure you're well taken care of. It really is in my best interest to keep you in top shape. What? I pressed a hand to my neck. The spot where she'd bitten me still hurt. What were you doing? I... I want to go home. I'm afraid that's not convenient for me. I need you here where I can keep a close eye on you, she said. As promised, I'll take good care of you. Now rest up. I'll have James send something in to help you recover soon. Again, I won't need you for another few days, but when the time comes, I need you nice and healed up for then. With a calm, knowing smile, Shay stood up and turned to leave. Wait, I rasped. I fell off the cot trying to go after her. Wait, please, wait. My voice died in my throat as Shay began to close the door to the room I was in. It looked more like the kind of door you'd find on a safe or a vault, thick and made of metal. I could only watch and silently plead as she closed it with a thud of finality, leaving me alone in that room. I lay helpless on the floor, unable to speak for a few moments, before finally starting to cry. I was so scared. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know why she was doing this. I didn't know what she wanted. None of this made sense. Slowly, I dragged myself back toward the cot, but I didn't have the strength to pull myself back onto it. Instead, I just curled up on the floor beside it and cried. I don't know how long I stayed like that, but when eventually the tears finally stopped coming, I did manage to pick myself up off the ground and take a good look at my new surroundings. The room I was in was sparsely furnished. It resembled a prison cell more than it did anything else. Although I suppose it could have been considered a luxurious prison cell, so there was that. The floor was plain hardwood and the walls were sterile white. There was a doorway off to one side that led to a small bathroom with a sink, a mirror, a toilet, and a shower stall. The doorway had no actual door, but that wasn't entirely surprising. I took a few staggering steps on trembling legs to approach the mirror above the sink. I looked like an absolute mess. My skin was pale and my glasses were askew. I tilted my head to look at the bandage Shay had put on my neck. Reluctantly, I peeled it back. Somehow, part of me already knew what I'd see under there, but that didn't mean I was ready for it. Two small pinpricks were there on my neck, a bite mark, like something out of a Hollywood horror movie. My fingers brushed against it. The skin was still tender and it was still bleeding a little. My heart started to race faster. This didn't feel real. I struggled to think of a more logical explanation for this, but I just couldn't. She'd been drinking my blood and she was going to do it again. Panic started to set in. Was she just going to keep me here? Was she just going to keep feeding on me? I thought about the way James had avoided looking at me. He must have known. He must have been the one who drugged me. I had to get out of here. I was going to die if I didn't get out of here. My breath was getting heavier. My heart just kept racing. I stumbled back toward the metal door. I tried pounding on it, tried screaming for help. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I begged for someone to let me out. But no one came. No one helped me. I screamed for hours, hours, but nothing happened. No one came. When the door finally opened a few hours later, I was too tired to move. I could only look up from the wall I was slumped against with a half-hearted hope that someone had come to help. But it was just James with a tray of food, steak and spinach with a cup of orange juice. It all smelled great, although I didn't have much of an appetite. He didn't say anything, just set it on a small table by the bed and turned to leave. He only stopped when I spoke to him. Please, please let me go. He hesitated in the doorway for a moment before quietly looking back at me. I'm sorry, was all he could say. And as he turned away, I noticed a set of faded scars on his neck. They would have been easy to miss before, but now that I knew what to look for, I saw them. Old bite marks. My heart sank. I knew at that moment that James wouldn't help me. He couldn't. He closed the vault door behind him, and just as quickly as he derived, he was gone. I stared at the food he'd left behind, and with nothing else to do, I ate. The next few days passed in a blur. I'd often hear Shay moving around the penthouse outside, but I never saw her, and I was never allowed to leave my room. That room was just about the only thing I knew during my time there, and beyond the bed and the small bathroom, there wasn't much to it. I knew I wasn't its first occupant. There were old blood stains on the mattress, and on the side of the bathroom mirror, someone else had carved a message into the wood. Break it and be free. Megan Dinn, 2021. It took me a moment to understand what Megan had meant by that, and when I figured it out, I did consider it for a moment. But ultimately, I didn't have the stomach for it. Two times a day, James would bring me food. Nothing fancy, always just meat, beans, and greens. We never spoke much after that first conversation. I'm not sure if he wasn't supposed to talk to me, or if he just didn't know what to say. I did make one attempt to push past him and get out, and I actually made it. I got through that vault door, but I only found myself in a plain office with the door locked. It wouldn't open no matter how much I struggled, and I stopped when I felt James' hand on my shoulder. Don't, he said softly. His eyes were stern, pleading almost. She'll kill us both. I wanted to argue, wanted to fight, but I already knew that there wasn't any point in attacking James, and something in my gut told me that I didn't stand a ghost of a chance against Che. So instead of fighting, I just quietly allowed myself to be led back to my room. It was the first time I'd ever seen what the door to my room looked like from the outside. I'd expected something like the door to a safe, and maybe there was such a door behind it. But a bookshelf had been built over it. I had no doubts that when closed, the doorway was impossible to notice. No one was ever going to find me in there. I knew that much for sure. I hesitated, not wanting to go back inside. But I didn't linger for long. I had nowhere else to go, after all. After a few days, Shay returned for me. The moment she opened the door, I found myself shrinking back in fear. A coy smile tugged at the corner of her mouth when she saw me. Well, well, nervous, aren't we? She teased, stepping into my room and closing the door behind her. Please, I said, please don't bite me, not again, please. Shh, just relax, dear. Shay crooned as she closed the distance between us. Fighting isn't going to get you anywhere. Trust me, things like me can't die. She loomed over me as I shrank into the corner, trying to make myself so small that she couldn't hurt me. But it didn't change anything. Don't struggle. If I bite wrong, you could bleed out, and neither of us wants that. She gently moved my hands out of the way, tilted my head to the side, and sank her teeth into my neck. My body tensed up as she bit me, and for several minutes, I could only sit there in silence as she fed. When she finally pulled back and replaced the gauze on my neck, I asked the question that had lingered in the back of my mind for the past few days. Why, why are you doing this to me? We all need to eat, Shea replied matter-of-factly. My dietary needs are simply different. Hunting is time-consuming. Not that time isn't something I have in abundance. A little perk of immortality. But I'd rather use mine productively. Besides, most of my kind rely on seduction to get close, and that always comes with certain expectations. Frankly, I've got better things to do, and I'm not about to start paying for it like some do, either. What a miserable way to exist. I've spent the past four hundred years as an apex predator. Why would I consent to live as anything less now? No, I prefer having a juicebox or two on hand for the sake of convenience. It's much easier this way. Juicebox. The casual way she said that word made me sick, as if that's really all I was in her eyes. A quick and easy snack. Why me? I asked. It's easiest to take people no one will miss, she said. There was a cruel implication behind her words that didn't escape me. James, for example. I found him working as a sous chef at a rather lovely restaurant downtown. He was talented, of course, but that's not why I hired him. He had no one. Just a small one-bedroom apartment and delusions of white picket fences. When I offered him the chance to work for me, he couldn't have said yes fast enough. Granted, I was a little more upfront with him than I was with you. He knew going in that this would be a live-in position. You, well, I suppose you'll learn. If you keep up your best behavior, maybe someday you'll graduate to a proper bedroom too. I don't want a bedroom. I want to go home. Shea laughed. Home to what, sweetheart? What exactly have you got going on in your little life? I did my research on you, you know. You live alone in a modest two-bedroom apartment. No close friends, no pets, nothing. For a so-called life coach, your own life is pretty pathetic. Honestly, though, I never put much stock into that kind of thing anyway, no offense. But I always thought that if someone doesn't understand how to set basic goals, they don't deserve success. Trying to teach them things that anyone with a brain should already know just seems like a waste. Then again, most self-help stuff always struck me as something of a scam. So which of us is the real vampire here? You are. Shay's brow creased slightly. She pursed her lips before deciding not to dignify that with a response. She stood up, smoothing out her dark charcoal blazer, and exhaled through her nostrils. Get your rest. I'll be hungry again in a few more days. She said calmly, before turning to leave, locking me in that room once again. I just stayed in the corner, unable to move. I didn't know what I could do. This was my life now. Shea's visits and the meals James brought me soon became the only way I could really mark the passage of time. I had no windows. They'd taken everything off of me except for my EpiPen. James had given that back to me after I told him that I could die without it. I omitted the fact that I'd only really needed in the event that I was exposed to peanuts, but he hadn't asked about that. Everything else was gone, though. My phone, my notebook, my pens. There was nothing I could really do. As the days went by, with only the meals and the feedings to keep me company, I was sure I could feel myself starting to decay. I thought about breaking the mirror in the bathroom and slitting my wrists, just like the note carved into the wood had recommended, but I still couldn't bring myself to go through with it. I was more afraid of dying than I was of Shay. She'd said that maybe someday I could have my own room, right? It got me thinking that maybe if I behaved, maybe if I didn't fight, maybe I'd be okay in the end. James didn't seem to be suffering too much. Maybe I could be okay too. Maybe. I don't know if I really believed that or not, but it was something to tell myself as I lay curled up in bed. Something to keep me going. Shay came for me early on the day of the party. She was dressed down compared to what I usually saw her in, wearing her bathrobe as opposed to her usual outfit. She didn't drink as much either. That's it, I asked, as she pulled away from me. She licked the blood off her lips as she stared down at me. I only needed a little top up, she said. I'm having a little get together this evening. I prefer to eat light beforehand. It's best not to be seen as too ravenous, especially since they're bringing in volunteers. She said that final word with such disgust. It's a pathetic way to live, if you ask me. Lying to yourself that you're anything more than prey, or worse, getting off on it. Believe me, darling, there's far more dignity in your position than theirs. I didn't really follow her logic, but I wasn't about to argue with her. You just rest and keep quiet, she said. I'd prefer not to have to dispose of a body tonight. She patched me up as she usually did before getting up to leave me. Soon after the door closed behind her, I heard the shower running as she prepared for the party. The music started maybe an hour or two later, a live band by the sound of it. I suppose I wasn't surprised that Shea was going all out for whatever gathering this was. I could actually hear everything pretty well from my little room, and that was when I finally started thinking, maybe somebody might be able to hear me. I knew it was probably a long shot. The music and the mingling guests would probably drown me out, but I still needed to try. I waited for a while longer until I heard more voices downstairs. Then I started to make noise. I kicked at the door, stomped on the floor. I screamed for someone to come and find me. I kept waiting to hear Shea come in to shut me up, but she never did. Maybe no one heard me. The thought had crossed my mind a few times, but I couldn't give up. I couldn't stop trying. Someone would be bound to find me eventually. They had to. They had to. So I screamed. I screamed until my face was red. I pounded on the floor and kicked at the door. I begged for someone, anyone to help me. When I finally heard the door to the office outside open, my voice died in my throat. I could hear someone just outside my door, footsteps. I wasn't sure if it was Shea or not. I was terrified that it was. I listened, hoping that whoever was out there might call out, and they did. Hello? My heart skipped a beat. I knew that voice. Alana Delaney. Immediately, I stumbled toward the door and pounded on it. I'm in here, I cried. It's the bookcase. It's a door. Please, please, just get me out of here. Emily? Alana sounded closer now. She was right outside the door. I could hear her fumbling with the bookcase before I heard the telltale creak of the door unlocking. Alana pulled it open, and oh god, I'd never been so happy to see another human being in my life. Alana! I sobbed, tears streaming down my cheeks. Oh god, Alana! I crashed into her arms, hugging her tight. What the hell is this? What are you doing in here? She asked. She looked over my shoulder, into the room where I'd been held captive. I could sense her body tensing up. Oh my god, she said under her breath, her eyes settled on the gauze patch on my neck. Has she been? It's Shay, I stammered. She's been keeping me here and I, oh god, I don't know how long I, she's, she's. The words barely came out. Terror and hope didn't leave me very articulate. It's okay, Alana said. It's okay, she stroked my hair as she held me. We're going to get you out of here, okay? We're going to get you out of here right now. Then I heard it, footsteps out in the hall, the familiar distinct sound of high heels on hardwood. No. I sobbed as Alana turned toward the door to the office, moving to stand in front of me protectively. The door opened slowly, and we both watched as Shay stepped in. She gingerly closed it behind her and sized us both up, her cold expression difficult to read as always. I thought I told you to rest and keep quiet, she said. Shay, what the hell is this? Alana demanded. You're keeping a blood slave? You and Ashley don't? Shay asked, her tone dismissive. Don't tell me you two actually go out and hunt or, God forbid, pay for it. Hunt? Pay for it? I looked over at Alana, the way she phrased it, it almost sounded like Alana and her sister were vampires too. It's Imperium law, Alana argued. You could be executed for something like this. Come now, you think the council doesn't do it too? Shay asked. We're vampires, dear. The Imperium may like the sound of paid blood farms and willing donors, but that's not what we are. You and your sister are still young, so a little bit of idealism isn't unreasonable. They do paint a nice picture, but be realistic. We're not just going to deny our natures. Nothing ever can. Do you want to test that theory? Alana snapped. What happens if I bring her out to everyone out there? What do you think they'll say? Shay's brow furrowed. I saw a flash of rage in her eyes. That would be extremely ill-advised, she said, her voice as calm as always. I was extremely generous in inviting you and your sister out tonight, and I would not recommend rewarding my generosity with provocation. Provocation? Alana repeated, her eyes narrowed. I think we're way past that. Do you? Because I don't. I'm more than willing to be reasonable here, so long as you are reasonable in turn. Why don't you return Ms. McGuire to her room, and we can discuss this like civilized adults, yes? I'm sure we can reach an understanding. There's no need to escalate this into a full-on confrontation. Then get out of my way, Shay. Shay remained still. That's not an option for me. I'm going to ask you one last time, Alana. Don't make me escalate this. Alana remained still. Her body seemed tense, though. She was scared. I could see it. And so could Shay. Still, she held her ground. She sized up the vampire in front of her, and then she made her move. Ashley? Shay crossed the room in just the blink of an eye, seizing Alana by the throat before she could finish calling for her sister. Alana struggled as she was dragged to the ground, clawing at Shay's face. Shay did briefly let her go, giving her a chance to try to scramble away, but she only made it a foot or so before Shay seized a handful of her long, auburn hair and locked her arm around her throat, keeping her from screaming. Alana struggled against the chokehold, fighting hard to escape. Her pale face flushed red as she tried to breathe. Shay just held fast, her expression calm and placid. She braced one hand against the back of Alana's head, then moved the other hand to her chin, jerking her head violently to the side. I could hear the crack of her bones. And I watched as Alana's struggles stopped. Her eyes widened before going vacant. Her limbs twitched, her breath hitched. And she was gone. Shay sighed in exhaustion. I did try to avoid that, she mused, before her eyes settled on me. I stood, paralyzed on the spot. I knew I needed to run, but the fear kept me in place. Tears still streamed down my cheeks. Shay's eyes never left me as she lugged Alana's body through the door in the bookcase. Now for you. You know better than to run right now, don't you? I weakly nodded my head. Good girl. I'll tell you what, go back to your room, sit quietly, and you'll live past tomorrow. Does that sound fair to you? P-please. That was a yes or no question, Emily. Yes. Then go. And if I hear any pounding or screaming, I'll kill you on the spot. Am I clear? Again, I nodded and allowed myself to be shepherded back into the room. Shay closed the door behind me once more, leaving me in silence with Alana's body. I could still hear the party outside, but I didn't make any more noise. I was too afraid of what might happen if I did. My eyes wandered to Alana's lifeless body. Her eyes were still open. Her lips were slightly parted, revealing her fangs. I stared at her, hoping that maybe she might get up, maybe she might still be alive somehow. But there was no doubt in my mind that she was gone. I slowly approached her and took the time to close her eyes. I'm sorry, I whispered, and sat quietly by her body as if the company would be any comfort to her. I'm a little ashamed to admit that I did try to search her body for anything useful she might have had on her like a phone. But her red party dress had no pockets. If she had a purse, she hadn't had it on her when she'd found me. There was nothing that could help me. So I just sat with her. The sudden brutality of her death lingered in my mind. The way Shay had just so effortlessly snapped her neck. I'd never seen anyone die before, and the suddenness of it was what scared me the most. One moment she was there, and the next she wasn't. Hadn't Shay said that vampires like her couldn't be killed so easily? She had, hadn't she? And yet she'd snapped Alana's neck like it was nothing. Was that even a way vampires could be killed in stories? I didn't think so. Then again, did any of the old vampire myths apply to Shay? I'd seen her eat garlic, I'd watched her touch silver. I knew she could ingest things other than blood, and I'd heard her in the shower before, so I knew she wasn't averse to running water. I personally hadn't ever seen her in direct sunlight, but I'd seen pictures of her outside before, so odds were that sunlight wouldn't kill her. No, none of the weaknesses from the old myths applied to her. Come to think of it, they hadn't applied to Alana either. I'd seen Alana and her sister out during the daytime plenty of times, and neither of them had ever once given any indication they were put off by garlic. Christ, I hadn't even realized they'd been vampires. They'd both just seemed completely normal. But if those traditional weaknesses didn't apply to vampires, was the same true for their strengths? I thought back to what I had seen Shay do. She hadn't really hypnotized me. I was relatively certain she couldn't turn into a bat, and while she'd been remarkably fast when she'd attacked Alana, it hadn't seemed supernatural. Even the way she'd killed Alana, she just snapped her neck. It was so mundane, so simple. Things like me can't die, Shay had said. But here I was, sitting next to a dead vampire. Of course she'd said she couldn't die. She didn't want us to think we could kill her. She didn't want us to think she was vulnerable. I stared down at Alana. I knew Shay wouldn't leave her here to rot. She'd need to get rid of her. Odds were that she'd be back in the morning. There was a risk she'd get rid of me too when she returned. I needed to be ready. I quietly got up and went over to my bed. I stripped the pillowcase off the pillow, then made my way into the bathroom. I'd left my EpiPen by the sink. I slipped it into my pocket without thinking before wrapping the pillowcase around my hand and punching the mirror as hard as I could. Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface, and with a trembling hand, I hit it a few more times until I was able to pull a shard of glass free from the rest of the mirror. It would work as a makeshift knife. I knew there was a good chance Shay would still kill me. But after sitting in that room, helpless and afraid for so long, it felt almost freeing to finally choose to fight back. If I had to die, I didn't want to die afraid. I slipped the broken shard of mirror under my pillow, and then sat down on the bed to wait. The party went on and slowly died down. The guests departed, leaving everything quiet. I could hear Shay moving around when everyone had left, but she never came to check in on me. As far as I could tell, she and James did a bit of tidying up before she retired to bed. That was fine. She'd be back. I just needed to wait.

Speaker 2:
[52:50] Tomorrow morning is knocking. Stock your fridge now. How about a creamy mocha frappuccino drink? Or a sweet vanilla? Smooth caramel, maybe? Or a white chocolate mocha? Whichever you choose, delicious coffee awaits. Find Starbucks frappuccino drinks wherever you buy your groceries.

Speaker 3:
[53:05] Predator Badlands, now streaming on Hulu and Hulu on Disney Plus.

Speaker 5:
[53:11] Here, you're not the Predator.

Speaker 3:
[53:12] You're the prey. Prey.

Speaker 2:
[53:14] Prey.

Speaker 3:
[53:15] Prey. Prey. Prey.

Speaker 8:
[53:16] Prey.

Speaker 3:
[53:19] Critics are saying it's epic, stunning, and breathtaking.

Speaker 5:
[53:25] Many have come here.

Speaker 2:
[53:27] None have survived.

Speaker 3:
[53:29] Predator Badlands, now streaming on Hulu and Hulu on Disney Plus, rated PG-13.

Speaker 8:
[53:35] You can't reason with the sun. Trust us. We've tried. This summer, it's time to put that angry ball of fire on mute. Columbia's OmniShade technology is engineered to protect you from the sun's harsh rays that can burn and damage your skin. The sun is relentless, but so is our gear. Level up your summer at columbia.com to spend more time outside and less time slathering on aloe lotion. You're welcome. Columbia. Engineered for whatever.

Speaker 4:
[54:06] I won't pretend that I wasn't still afraid of what would happen when Shay returned for Alana's body. I was terrified. More than that, I was already certain that I was going to die. I told myself that if I could just make her bleed, though, that would be worth it. I just needed to hurt her. Just needed to remind her that she wasn't invincible. Even though my heart was racing, even though I hadn't slept and had just lain in bed, waiting for Shay to come, I knew I could do that. And finally, I heard her. I could hear the shower running in another room of the penthouse. I could hear her walking around, going downstairs and talking to James. I heard the phone ring a few times and vaguely heard James mention that a guest had arrived, but Shay simply said, Tell them I'm out right now. We can meet for lunch. Before moving on. The phone rang again after that, but this time Shay refused to answer it. I just waited and listened, waited for her to finally come for me. Eventually, I heard her. I could hear those distinctive high heels clicking against the hardwood floor. I closed my eyes. I'd never felt so in the moment before, never felt so centered in my own body, so alive. It felt wrong, especially since I knew I probably wouldn't be alive much longer, but there was no time to dwell on it. Shay stopped in front of the door and unlocked it. I rested my hand on my pillow and tried to steady my breathing as she opened the door for the last time. She stared at me before scoffing through her nose. Enjoy your evening, she asked. I trust the company wasn't a bother. I didn't reply to her, I just watched as she lifted Alana up over her shoulder. You know, I really don't take any pleasure from this, she said. I kind of liked this one, and her sister. I don't know if this is more of a mess than you're worth yet, but either way, you're lucky I'm the forgiving type. That familiar knowing grin flashed across her lips before her eyes suddenly darted to the side into the doorless bathroom. I saw her entire body tense up. She'd noticed the broken mirror. Was it surprise or panic that she felt? I didn't have time to think about it. I just grabbed the shard of mirror from under my pillow, and with a manic scream, I lunged at her. The edge of the mirror cut into my hand, but the pain didn't slow me down. I'd been sitting there, waiting like a coiled spring for hours. I couldn't let anything stop me. Not pain, nor fear, nor death. Shay tried to position Alana's body between us, and she spared herself from the first few stabs. But I could reach around the corpse, and I could feel the moment my makeshift knife dug into her flesh. She stumbled back, frantically trying to get out of the room. I think she was hoping she could lock me in, but I was too close. Alana was too unwieldy for her to carry, but protected her just enough that she couldn't risk tossing her aside. She tried to throw the body onto me, desperately hoping that the dead weight might push me back into my room. But I just pushed the body aside. Alana's corpse thudded to the ground as I lunged directly at Shay. And this time, there was nothing to stop me from reaching her. I wanted to bury my shard of mirror into her heart. Instead, it ended up in her bicep. Shay threw her weight against me, knocking me off her and sending me tumbling to the ground. You little bitch! She spat, and I could see the venom in her eyes as she glared at me. She gripped the shard of glass embedded in her right arm and ripped it free with a grunt of pain. Blood flowed freely from the wound. I could see it dripping from her fingertips. I was right. She wasn't invincible. But now she was furious, and more importantly, this time she'd been careless. The door to the hallway was open. She must have left it that way to make it easier to carry Alana's body out. That was my escape route. I took off at a sprint, and Shay bolted after me. You're not going anywhere. I felt her fingers rake through my hair as I burst out into the hall. I only barely got past her. I had no idea where I was going, but running was better than dying. I could see the stairs up ahead. Maybe I could make it to the elevator. But was that a long shot? Maybe I'd be better off looking for a weapon, something else I could use to defend myself. The only thing I had in my pocket was my EpiPen, and before I could sift through my racing thoughts, I felt a hand grab my shoulder. Shay pulled me back toward her before slamming me into a wall. You think you can kill me? She spat. I've been doing this for four hundred years, Emily. You're not the first to try. You won't be the last. Her hand closed around my throat. Her eyes burned hatefully into mine. I tried to suck in a breath and on instinct my hand dipped into my pocket, grasping at the only thing I could use. Shame to make an even bigger mess, but you're too much of a problem to keep alive. My fingers struggled to open the case of my EpiPen, but I felt the lid pop open as her grip got tighter. She eyed my neck and began to lean closer for a final bite. I almost dropped my EpiPen as I pulled it from my pocket, and with the last bit of strength I had, I pressed it hard into her neck until I heard it click. Shake gasped. Her grip on my neck tightened as she pulled back, clutching at her own neck now. What the hell? She stammered, hastily tearing the EpiPen out of her neck. Fresh blood gushed from the injection point. Her eyes settled on me, wide with panic.

Speaker 6:
[60:34] What did you do to me?

Speaker 4:
[60:37] I honestly wasn't sure what the injection was doing to her. I knew from experience that it was probably making her heart race which couldn't have felt good. But I didn't know how long it would last on her. The effects only lasted around half an hour on me. I didn't know if they'd be longer or shorter for her. But I didn't want to take a risk. Shay stumbled back a few steps, still clutching her neck. Her breathing had grown erratic. She braced herself against the railing, and I seized the opportunity. I threw myself at her, pushing her hard and sending her tumbling over with a scream of panic. I watched Shay hit the marble floor at the bottom, although I knew I'd only slowed her down. She writhed on the floor, smearing her blood along the white marble. No! she rasped. No, no, no! I paused, watching her for a moment. She was disoriented. Maybe this was my chance to finish her off? No. Even if she was weak, I still didn't like my chances. I had to make it to the elevator. I had to get out of here. That was my top priority. I started down the stairs, only to pause as Shay forced herself up to her feet again. You! She was unsteady on her feet, but through pure spite, she hauled herself over to the stairs, blocking my way. I took a step back, watching as she shambled up them. She collapsed onto all fours to make it easier, looking at me like a wild animal as she climbed toward me, step by step. I'll kill you slow, Emily, she panted, and I knew that was a promise. I took another step back before taking off down the hall again. I needed to find a weapon and fast. I knew she'd be back on her feet soon. The sound of a phone ringing blared through the house, although neither of us was in any position to answer it. I threw open the door of the first room I saw, desperately looking for something to use. This room looked to be Shay's bedroom. An elaborate, king-sized bed with white satin sheets dominated the center of it. I scanned the room, looking for something I could use. And then I spotted it. A mostly empty wine bottle by what looked to be a reading chair. I grabbed it, and then I heard the telltale click of her high heels on the floor outside. Her gait was slower. She was struggling to walk now. I spotted a closet nearby, and, trying to think fast, closed myself inside. I didn't think it would be much of a hiding spot, but I did hope she wouldn't realize I'd found something new to hit her with. Where are you? She growled as she stepped into the bedroom. I could hear her sniffing the air. I can smell you in here, you know. Your fear, your adrenaline, your blood. From my hiding spot, I could see your eyes settle on the closet. Such a waste of blood, too. Yours was decent enough. Nothing I'd want to spill needlessly. Maybe I'll bottle it, make you watch as I extract every single drop from your veins and let you feel yourself growing colder and weaker as death drags you into- Her voice died in her throat as we heard a noise from the foyer, the telltale sound of an elevator arriving. Oh, for sake! Shay snarled, tensing up again. No, no, no! I said no visitors, not like this! She seemed to hesitate for a moment and shot one last glare at the closet before shambling out, slamming her bedroom door closed behind her. I heard her voice morph as she spoke. She was trying to put on that professional front again, but I could hear the strain behind it. I'm sorry, this really isn't a good time for company right now. Can we meet up later to discuss? I just need a moment, I promise, another voice said, a voice I knew I recognized. Ashley. My heart skipped a beat. Slowly, I stepped out of the closet and made my way back into the hall. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that the voice I was hearing was Ashley's. It's Alana, she didn't come home last night, I heard her say. I told you, she left with someone else. Shay panted. She was staying at the top of the stairs and looking down at Ashley. The moment I stepped out of the bedroom, she shot a glance over at me, but didn't move. Her posture was tense, panicked. Her breathing was heavy and labored. Look, I know this might be a lot to ask, but I didn't see who she left with last night. I just wanted to know if you got a look at them. Maybe it was someone you know, or maybe I can just see the camera footage from the lobby. Ashley asked before trailing off. She must have just noticed the smeared blood on the marble floor. Oh my god, Shay, what happened? Are you all right? I'm fine, Shay insisted. Just stay down there, don't come up the stairs. It's just a small accident with one of the volunteers. Nothing to worry about. I'm cleaning it up. I can help if you need me to, Ashley said. I could hear her on the stairs, although I heard her voice die in her throat. Had she noticed the state Shay was in? Shay glanced back over at me. Her eyes were wide, unsure, afraid. What the hell is going on here? Ashley asked, her voice low and suspicious. Shay opened her mouth to speak before grimacing. She hesitated, tried to think of a lie, tried to think of something to do. But I knew she had nothing. God fucking damn it! She lunged for Ashley first, kicking her back down the stairs before turning to deal with me. I tried to rush her, tried to swing the bottle at her head, but Shay caught me by the wrist. Enough! With a cry of rage, she hurled me down the stairs as well. I caught myself screaming as I rolled down the steps into the foyer. I felt one of my ribs crack before landing in a painful heap beside Ashley Delaney. Her short black hair was already matted with blood. She'd hit her head on the way down, but I watched her slowly pick herself up. What the hell? She stammered. Her eyes settled on me, and I could see the confusion on her face. Emily? Before Ashley could say another word, Shay kicked her back to the ground. And the mess just gets bigger! She spat. Oh, you really are more trouble than you're worth! I tried to crawl away, but Shay grabbed me by the hair and dragged me back to the stairs. Just die already, you fucking- Her final word was cut off by a pained scream. Shay's body contorted, and she frantically reached to try and pull something out of her back. She stumbled as she lost one of her high heels and almost collapsed before catching herself. The abandoned shoe lay discarded on the floor beside me. From the corner of my eye, I saw James behind her, frantically backing away. Shay gave him a look of utter disbelief before ripping a kitchen knife out of her back. James just tried to glare back at her and stopped after a few steps, defiant and waiting for her to come for him. No more was all he said. Shay's lip quivered as if she wanted to scream at him. But when her lips parted, no words came out. Just a primal, animalistic scream as she lunged for him, grabbing him violently and hurling him against a wall. James tried to fight back, tried to push her off. But Shay drove the knife into his chest. No more, she spat before hurling him back to the ground. She wobbled unsteadily on her feet, and I could see Ashley starting to pick herself up again. She looked back at us, but I could see the fight draining out of her. Her remaining heel was throwing her off balance, so she kicked it off. It didn't do much to keep her steady. She dragged her feet as she turned around. Blood dribbled out of her mouth. She looked like she was ready to collapse. Ashley looked over at me, still confused, but with a quiet understanding in her eyes. What did you do, Shay? Was all she could ask. Shay didn't respond, so Ashley asked a different question. Where is my sister? She killed her, I said, my own exhaustion evident in my voice. She found out she was feeding on me, so she murdered her, just to keep her quiet. I saw a look of horror in Ashley's eyes. What? No, she said under her breath. No, no, no, that can't. No, she can't be. Shay braced herself against the wall. She just had to get involved, she said. What a clusterfuck. She tried to push off the wall and support herself on her own legs again, but stumbled and collapsed back against the wall. Her knees threatened to buckle beneath her, and it took a few moments before she could try again. She looked back over at us and seemed ready to speak, although the words seemed to get caught in her throat. Ashley stared her down before finally drawing closer. She seemed to try to take a step back, but her legs finally gave out, and she slid down to the ground, still clutching the wall as she sank down beside James' body. You killed my sister, Ashley said softly. Not the first time I've killed another vampire, She replied. Some just aren't cut out to be what we are. We're predators, my dear. She didn't understand that. Do you? You're about to find out, Ashley promised. I saw an all too familiar knowing smile tug at Shay's lips. Oh, I'm sure. Something was wrong. Shay lay slumped against the wall, watching as Ashley advanced on her. She almost looked helpless, but it felt wrong. It felt too easy. Wait, I said, although my protest fell on deaf ears. Ashley only saw a dying vampire. She thought Shay was too weak to fight back. When Shay kicked at her knee, she wasn't expecting it. I heard Ashley's legs snap. It bent backward, and Ashley collapsed to the ground with a scream of pain. Immediately, Shay was on top of her. She ripped James' kitchen knife out of his chest and buried it in Ashley's stomach, forcing another scream out of her. Shay's eyes lit up with a cruel triumph as she twisted the knife. And before I could even think about what I was doing, I was moving. I grabbed the first thing I saw. Shay's lost stiletto heel and scrambled toward her, swinging the heel toward her face. Shay looked up at me as I rushed her, eyes widening in the moment before impact. The heel went through her eye, sticking fast. Shay didn't even scream. She just let out a gasp as she rolled off Ashley, who was still writhing on the ground and trying to pull the knife out of her. No, I heard Shay rasp, before she let out a whimper of pain as she ripped the heel out of her eye. Blood dripped from her empty socket onto the marble floor, and Shay stared down at it in disbelief with her one remaining eye. She pressed a shaking hand to her face as if she could stop the bleeding, while I checked on Ashley. She was alive, albeit in a lot of pain. Fuck, fuck, she—oh, God! She panted. Let's just get the hell out of here, I said, and tried to help her up, but she pushed my hand away. No, no, no! She glared over at Shay, who was still on her knees, clutching her eye. Ashley dragged herself closer to the wall, propping herself up beside James' body. She grabbed the knife, still buried in her stomach, and gritted her teeth before slowly pulling it free. I put a hand on her wrist, trying to stop her. Don't! You'll bleed out! Trust me, I'll be fine, she said under her breath. Her eyes locked with mine as with a grunt of agony. She pulled the knife free and pushed the handle into my hand. The message was clear. I looked back over toward Shay. She was starting to move again, crawling along the floor on all fours to try and find something she could hold on to in order to pick herself back up. My grip on the knife tightened as I shuffled over toward her. Shay noticed me coming from the corner of her good eye and tried to move faster, but it didn't change anything. I still caught up with her and rolled her onto her back. No, she panted. No, no, no, no. I brought the knife down toward her chest, and she desperately grabbed my wrist trying to save herself. Wait, wait, wait, don't do this. You can go. You can go. I won't stop you. You win, okay? You win. You're free. We don't need to. I threw my weight against her, pushing the knife a little closer to her heart. She still fought me as hard as she could, using the last of her strength to hold me back. I could see the terror in her one remaining eye. She was scared of me, scared of dying. No. That one word almost sounded like a sob. Please, please don't. I don't want to.

Speaker 8:
[75:33] Please, no, no, no, no.

Speaker 4:
[75:36] I grabbed her right arm. I could still feel the gash I'd left when I'd driven that shard of mirror into her earlier, and I pressed my thumb into it. Shay screamed as I tore my wrist from her grip. Her remaining eye widened as she let out one final plea, but she couldn't stop me this time. I drove the knife into her throat. A wet, strangled wheeze escaped her. I felt her body twitch beneath me. Her legs kicked out frantically as she tried to get away, but it was already too late for her. Blood gushed from Shay Blackburn's mouth. She tried to suck in air, but she couldn't. I kept my hands on the knife handle, pushing it into her neck as she struggled. Her thrashing was getting weaker. I could see the light fading from her eye. Slowly, her strength left her, and with a few final twitches, she was gone. I still kept the knife buried in her throat until my heart stopped racing. The adrenaline wore off, and I finally collapsed beside her. Everything that followed happened in a blur. I remember seeing Ashley taking out her phone and calling someone. I thought it might be the police, but the people who showed up didn't seem like cops or paramedics. There was an ambulance there that took both Ashley and me away, but I couldn't shake the feeling that the people who were taking us weren't entirely human. Alana had mentioned some kind of vampire organization. Was this it? Whatever it was, I still ended up in a hospital. So there was that at least. I spent a few days there recovering. A few people came in to talk to me about what had happened, but none of them gave me a whole lot of details. What they did give me was a payout for my pain and suffering, before politely but firmly requesting that I not go to any news outlets about what had happened. It didn't sound like they were threatening me, but after all that had happened, it was hard to tell for sure. I read an article a few days later about how Shaye Blackburn and Alana Delaney had both been killed in a car accident in upstate New York. Ashley was mentioned as having survived, so there was that. I did reach out to her a few days later, and I saw her again at the funeral. She was looking a lot better, but I could see a newfound emptiness in her eyes. I can't pretend that I didn't understand. I knew she'd lost a lot. For all intents and purposes, the funeral was the end of it. I haven't heard anything from anyone since that incident. I've seen Ashley a few times, but that's just because she's probably the only one who knows what I've been through. I don't know why I'm writing this down. Just to get it out, maybe. I haven't really been myself since what happened with Shay. I haven't had it in me to work. I've been turning down clients. I don't go out. I keep expecting I'll see her waiting for me if I do. I'm scared, and I'm so, so tired of it. So I guess I'm hoping that maybe if I put it down somewhere, I can put it away and start to move forward, put my life back together and figure out where to go from here. I guess I'm being my own life coach now. I don't know. Maybe I'm done with that gig. Maybe there's more I could be doing with my life. Maybe it's time to find out. You've been listening to Juicebox by Ryan G. Peacock. Ryan G. Peacock is allegedly an author based in Ontario, Canada. After hearing about the No Sleep subreddit back in 2018, he thought it sounded like fun and promptly stopped sleeping. His unhinged ravings from the resulting madness have been featured on the No Sleep podcast, Chilling Tales for Dark Nights and Creepy. You can purchase collections of his work at VELUX Books. Looks like we got a story with a moral here, and snuck in right at the end. All of us only have so much energy, so much juice, you might say, and it's important that we don't pour it all into someone else. Sure, helping others is important, and a community can accomplish what one person can't, but pay attention to who's using you as their own personal juicebox. After all, vampires aren't real, I think. But, energy vampires are absolutely out there. Thanks to Ryan G. Peacock for another great story, and thanks to you fine people for joining me tonight on Horror Hill. Until next week, stay spooky. You've been listening to the Horror Hill Podcast, a production of Chilling Entertainment and the creative team at Chilling Tales for Dark Nights. Tonight's episode was hosted, narrated, scored and finalized by yours truly, Erik Peabody. Additional music by Nikki McSorley. Got a terrifying tale of your own that you'd like performed? Email it to us at submissions at simplyscarypodcast.com to have your work considered for future production. Note that any writing utilizing artificial intelligence is ineligible. If you enjoyed tonight's episode, why not help us spread our dark presence online? You can follow Chilling Tales for Dark Nights on social media, and upvote, subscribe, and hit the bell notification icon if you're listening to this on YouTube. It helps us out a lot and also keeps you up to date on new episodes. If you'd like access to uninterrupted horror, free of ads and these annoying bookend segments, might I recommend signing up to be a patron? You'll get access to hundreds of episodes of this show, as well as everything from the other programs in the Chilling Tales for Dark Nights cabal. That means all of scary stories told in the dark, Drew Blood's Dark Tales and more. It's a veritable smorgasbord of horrific delights. Head to chillingtalesfordarknights.com to get started. If you're looking for someone to narrate or handle audio production for your own personal project, I just so happen to know a guy. Email me at erikpeabodyvoice.com, that's E-R-I-K P-E-A-B-O-D-Y-V-O-I-C-E at gmail.com, and we can talk details. If darkness is what you're after, listener, your search is over. Yet, let it be known, you haven't found the darkness. The darkness has found you.

Speaker 7:
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