Summary
In this special spook-tacular episode, I present another horror short story. The story this time is called Hide. It was inspired by a Japanese game about summoning a spirit. It was something that I’d read about years ago online, and I thought that it would make for a great story. This is the story about a kid and the internet, and the lengths he would potentially go for an audience. Enjoy if you dare!
Music: Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio
Various sound FX: Storyblocks
TO READ ALONG:
Hide
By Jeremy Jordan
“What’s up, guys? It’s your boy, Xenophage69, back at it again with another challenge. Last time was a total amateur hour, so let’s try and really bring it this time!”
Timmy, or ‘Xenophage69’ as he liked to be referred to online, was shooting another video for his YouTube channel. It was 2006, the internet was still a bit like the wild west, and Timmy was having a blast. He had a few friends in real life, but online, he had a massive audience. They’d leave comments, both good and bad. Timmy ate them all up. He loved the attention and was willing to do just about anything to keep his fans entertained.
However, this wasn’t always the case. When Xenophage69 first started uploading videos, he was vlogging about the comics and movies he was particularly into at the time. He would often review or rant to a small but loyal audience. It was an enjoyable hobby that provided him with a nice outlet for expressing himself and his ideas. Once he eventually hit the magic 1000-subscriber number, everything changed.
When it came time to celebrate this milestone, he thought he’d do something a bit different. Instead of making another pop culture-type video, he decided to do a challenge. Videos of this nature were starting to trend as the age of the internet star and influencer was just beginning. The challenge was a very simple one to start with. Timmy mixed various condiments and downed the nasty mix quickly on camera.
The video caught fire within the first couple of days and ended up being the most popular thing he had ever recorded up until that point. It was something different and totally gross. People ate it up. He received lots of positive comments and feedback. Things such as, “Awesome! Next time, add horseradish!” or “Love it. Let’s see what else you can do!”
Likes poured in while Timmy’s subscribers and confidence grew. By the end of the week, Timmy decided to shift from Xenophage, the pop culture guy, to Xenophage, the challenge guy. It wasn’t a quick shift, however. He still had a passion for his hobbies and loved to talk about them. On the other hand, Timmy also really desired fame, and so far, had come to see two potential paths ahead of him. The quick path was challenge videos, of course. He knew it could be more humiliating and physically draining, my God, what a large audience he could amass.
At first, he thought that he could direct his large audience from the challenge videos to his other videos. It was a valid idea, but things just didn’t work that way. Most of that audience just wanted to watch the random chaos that came from a wacky challenge.
6 months into this new way of doing things, Timmy had eaten plenty of disgusting and spicy foods, trespassed in a couple of places for an overnight challenge, and even sustained a few injuries. In his mind, this had all been worth it. He’d grown his subscribers to a number he could only previously dreamt of, and felt that in spite of it not being the path he originally envisioned, he was finally somebody.
In the present time, Timmy was continuing on with his recording.
“I was scrolling through the comments on my latest challenge last night and came across some joker who suggested I do a challenge he referred to as ‘solo hide & seek’. Confused as I was? Well, since we are deep into October, I’m going to entertain this and elaborate. I looked it up, and it turns out that it’s some kind of ritual where you try to play hide and seek with a spirit. What a sack of bullshit! Of course, I will be taking it on for my next video. Why? Because your boy is never one to turn down a challenge, no matter how corny. Let’s get spooky!”
Later that evening, Timmy sat hunched over his computer desk, further researching the challenge, while creating a list of supplies. The instructions stated that the first thing that he’d need is a doll that he was to give a name to. He would then have to cut the doll open, remove the stuffing, insert a mix of rice and his own fingernail clippings, and sew it back up with red thread. From that point, he’d have to declare 3 times that it was his turn first while closing his eyes. After that, he’d have to place the doll in the tub, and it was game on.
Timmy did not believe in any sort of paranormal things, but he felt uneasy as he made his way to the end of his research. At the bottom of the instructions was a long list of bold warnings. There were a lot of things that you should not do, with a heavy focus on the dangers involved in doing any sort of spirit ritual like this.
While in bed that night, Timmy had a horrifying nightmare about a doll slowly creeping down his hallway. It would lift its small hand to its head while searching in various doorways. In the doll’s other hand, a knife. When it reached the end of the hallway, it slowly tilted its head back and began to bleed from its eyes while letting out a blood-curdling scream.
Timmy awoke in terror. Sweaty and panicked, he turned to check the phone: 3:00 am. This had to be a coincidence, he thought. He’d been focused on research for hours before bed. Of course, there was the potential for a nightmare. He shook it off and tried his best to drift off to sleep. He thought of his grandparents, warm cookies, his pets, and his adoring fans. After a few minutes, the mission was accomplished. Timmy was back in a deep sleep.
On his way to school the next morning, Timmy continued to think about his upcoming challenge. It was hard not to. Outside, there was a chill in the air, and the town was all decked out for the season. Lawns were littered with webs and other types of creepy decor. Bradbury was already a very unsettling place, and the Fall was just the icing on the creepy-ass cake.
At lunch that afternoon, Timmy spoke with his good friend Gary. There weren’t many people that Timmy felt he had a real connection with, but Gary was solid company. They grew up together, shared many interests, and knew many details about one another. Gary was well aware of Timmy’s online persona and success. He had many thoughts about what his pal was up to, but rarely ever shared them for fear of coming off sounding insensitive.
“Thoughts?” Gary wondered.
“Huh?” Timmy’s mind was elsewhere.
“I said, did you watch Detective Danger last night? Dude, the estranged daughter showed up? Who ended up being a cyborg? Holy shit!”
Timmy swirled his peas around a bit with his fork before replying, “No, I was busy researching a challenge. Thanks for the spoilers, though.”
“Oh, sorry. I just assumed you’d be glued to the screen for this one. To be fair, Detective Danger gets up to way more cool shit beyond what I just mentioned. He had quite the evening. Anyway, what’s the challenge this time?” asked Gary, right before stuffing a nugget into his mouth.
Timmy hesitated a bit at first. He was feeling both a mix of embarrassment and fear. Eventually, he muttered, “It’s gonna sound real silly, but it was a fan suggestion and I think it could bring new eyes to the channel. I’m doing a paranormal ritual. I’m going to try and get an entity to possess a stuffed animal, and the two of us are going to play hide and seek.”
Gary was a bit surprised. This was certainly something that was out of Timmy’s normal realm, yet he knew the lengths his friend was willing to go for an audience and internet points.
He had just one question, “Why, though? I know you’re not a believer in that stuff.”
“Exactly!” Timmy declared, “It will be an easy-peasy challenge for October, and I’ll get tons of views and engagement! It’ll be great!”
Gary took in the information while continuing to scarf down his lunch. He tried to think of a few things to say, yet his mind remained blank. The two friends sat in a prolonged, awkward silence for about a minute.
Timmy polished off the rest of his chocolate milk and offered another thought, “One kinda weird thing, though, I had this crazy nightmare last night. I’m sure it was just because of all the research and prep I was doing before bed. Still, though, I’m having a hard time getting those warnings out of my head. I know it was just a silly wiki page…I just can’t shake this feeling of dread.”
This was a rare moment of honesty from Timmy, at least within the past year or so. Once Xenophage69 really started blowing up, Timmy started growing more and more distant. The internet fame was sudden. It grabbed onto Timmy immediately and gripped tightly. The lines between his personal life and online life blurred. There was an eventual change in the way he spoke and dressed as well. After enough time passed, Gary just figured this was how things were going to be. He remained good friends with Timmy, but would have to accept the new version of his pal if he wanted to continue the relationship.
It was very encouraging to hear his friend’s thoughts. He had a reply readied almost instantly, as if he’d been waiting for this moment.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with, man. You’ve got a huge, loyal audience. It may disappoint a few people, but everyone will have moved on by the time your next challenge video comes out.”
Timmy looked up in thought for a second, “Sure, it’s just that-”
Before he could continue, SPLAT! A very large and very juicy helping of creamed corn smacked Timmy in the face. He didn’t even have to wipe it from his eyes to figure out who this corny bandit was. Though Timmy wasn’t super popular, he also didn’t have a lot of enemies or bullies. The only one who truly gave him a hard time was Derek the Dick, you know, because he was kind of a dick. He seemed to be driven by pure hate and was capable of some really cruel things.
Timmy wiped the corn from his face while hurling an insult, “Hey Derek, it seems you accidentally hit my face with your meal instead of your trough, you fucking pig!”
Gary’s eyes shifted down to the ground. Timmy sat up a bit straighter; he was pleased with himself. He thought he was quite clever. Derek, however, did not. He made his way closer to Timmy until he was close enough to give a solid push off his seat. That was then followed up with another solid helping of corn and a “fuck you”, before walking away. Gary got up and attempted to help.
“You alright, man?” Gary wondered.
Timmy returned to his seat while wiping away the remaining food.
“Yeah, yeah,” he started, “fuck that guy.”
Gary nodded in agreement.
Timmy continued to clean up while they sat in silence. It quickly dawned on Gary that they were in the middle of an important conversation. He tried to get back on track.
“So anyway, it sounded like you had some thoughts on the challenge?”
Timmy leaned back a bit, trying to exude a confident swagger. His reply was brief.
“You know what? I’m good. I’m going to do it. It’s a stupid fucking internet challenge. Ohhh scary! Watch out for the spooky stuffed animal! Thanks, though.”
Gary nodded silently while letting out a small sigh. The two of them then proceeded to finish up their lunches.
On Timmy’s walk back home from school, he pulled out his cell phone to make a small intro for his new video.
“Hey guys! It’s your boy Xenophage here. I’ve been doing some serious research and prep about this challenge. Tonight, it is on. Not only am I not scared, but I will also totally crush it. I may even have a few laughs along the way. No scary stuffed animal is going to make a fool of me!”
And with that, he stopped the recording and made his way back home. It was a Friday night. Timmy would often still try and carve out some time for his friend Gary on the weekend, but tonight would be different. Timmy prepped and mostly sat anxiously in front of the TV watching horror marathons until it was time to begin. According to the wiki page, he was to wait until 3:00 am, thus providing him with lots of buildup and anticipation.
The stuffed animal that Timmy chose was a stuffed bear that was given to him by his Grandma when he was very young. Timmy loved his Grandma very much. She, of course, loved him very much too and loved to spoil him. Timmy was an only child with very busy parents. His father was often away on business trips, while his mother worked most mornings as a substitute teacher. When not working, she juggled housework, errands around town, and a side hustle where she made keychains. A lot of Timmy’s childhood involved walking to his Grandma’s house after school. They were close and did a lot of fun things together. He watched his first horror film there, ate more cookies than he could’ve ever imagined, and just generally did all the things a kid that age loved to do.
When his Grandma died, Timmy was 13. It absolutely gutted him. He mentally checked out for about a year after that. His parents, still just as busy as ever, tried their best to help, but Timmy mostly needed time and an outlet.
The stuffed bear was Timmy’s most prized possession. It was light brown with a cute little black vest and two button eyes. His Grandma gave the bear to Timmy one evening after he had been having some bad dreams. The bear had been sitting, undisturbed, for years on a shelf. Timmy’s Grandma thought it might be a valuable collectible one day, but after the incident, she thought it would be better suited as a protector.
“Timmy, I’d like to introduce you to Sir Bearington. He will protect you from all the scary monsters and bad dreams. Pretty cool, huh?”
Sir Bearington was now a dark brown bear with a torn vest and one button eye. It still gave him immense comfort, and though it seemed odd that he’d be potentially possessing it, there was no other toy he’d rather share the room with. The bear sat upon the cold bathroom counter as Timmy watched the clock and returned to his camera.
With the simple push of a button, Timmy was rolling and ready to address his fans, “What’s up, guys?! It is now 2:50 am. I’ve got my supplies and a filled bath. In about ten minutes, I’ll be performing the ritual. You may be asking yourselves, does this guy know what he’s messing with? To that I say, ha! Ha, ha, even. If you think your old pal Xenophage69 is afraid of a ‘wittle’ stuffie, then I don’t know what to tell ya. It must be your first day on my channel. In which case, make sure you hit that like button and subscribe for more killer content! Anyway, time for a bit more prep. I’ll check back in when it’s time to begin.”
Timmy set his camera down on the counter and picked up the bear. In his other hand, he grabbed a knife that he had placed nearby. Slowly raising it, he spoke softly to the bear, “Sorry, Mr. Bearington, I’ll stitch you right back up.”
In one swift motion, Timmy cut open the bear. Then he removed the stuffing and filled it with some of his nail clippings and rice, as instructed by the website. The next step was to sew the bear back up with red thread. He’d watched YouTube tutorials on sewing in the few days leading up to the challenge and luckily had absorbed enough knowledge to do so. When he was finished, he wrapped any of the remaining string around the bear. This was supposed to ‘bind’ the spirit. With the bath full and stuffed animal prepped, Timmy turned his camera back on.
Before addressing his audience, he turned the night-vision setting on. Another component of this challenge was complete darkness, aside from a lone TV tuned to static.
“What’s up, everyone? It is now 2:59 am, the lights are off, and it’s now or never. Time to dunk this bitch and start the game.”
Timmy grasped the bear tightly. He gave it one last look before chanting, “first tagger is Timmy, first tagger is Timmy, first tagger is Timmy.”.
And with that, Timmy dunked the bear and left the room so he could find a place to start counting down from 10. The instructions specifically said not to look back. Doing so would run the risk of causing the spirit to get angry and attack. Timmy was very curious and still had a hard time believing all this, but as he scurried down towards the end of his hallway, he didn’t look back. He leaned his head up against a random spot on the hall wall and started to slowly count down. When he reached zero, he went to look for the bear. As he anticipated, it was still inside the tub.
“I found you, Sir Bearington!” shouted Timmy.
He then proceeded to stab the bear with a knife. It was now time for the bear to find him.
With his eyes closed tight, he chanted: “It is now Sir Bearington’s turn, it is now Sir Bearington’s turn, it is now Sir Bearington’s turn!”
The next part of the instructions, Timmy found to be very bizarre. He was to keep salt water in his mouth for the remainder of the game and by no means swallow it until he was ready to end the ritual.
Timmy decided he’d pick the closet as his hiding place, as it was the first location that came to him, and he knew there was plenty inside to potentially cover himself strategically with. Would that really be required, he wondered to himself. He was starting to think this was really insane. The reality of the situation was hitting him, and he felt a bit foolish. Without another thought, though, he turned on his camera and tried to gesture to his mouth, indicating to his audience that he could not speak, but would still be showing as much of the process as possible. His eyes darted back and forth between the forward-facing LCD screen of his camera to random dark areas of the closet. With his free, non-camera hand, he clasped a nearby blanket. It wasn’t much other than a small feeling of security. He was sure that if spirits were real, blankets probably wouldn’t deter them.
A couple of minutes into his hiding, he had to set the camera down on a nearby stack of storage containers against the back closet wall. His whole arm started to itch, then burn. It felt like there were hundreds of fire ants crawling all over his skin. He wanted to scream and scratch, but he also wanted to remain as still and silent as possible. Sweat started to drip from his forehead as the sensation moved up from his arm to his shoulders and neck. This had to just be some weird psychological trick, he thought. He looked into the camera and tried to gesture with his arm. It was very difficult for Timmy to communicate with his audience without the use of his favorite tool. It was a messy series of head nods and eye shifting, which he knew probably looked ridiculous, yet better than no footage at all, he thought.
The sensations built to a crescendo, and just when he thought he could no longer take it, there was a sudden sound of a distant creaking noise from the other room. All at once, the itching and burning went away, and Timmy’s focus shifted. The noise was followed by more creaks and the sounds of various drawers opening and closing. Timmy’s face went pale while he continued to roll footage and act like the situation wasn’t as creepy as it actually was. He listened intently to the sounds. It still sounded like lots of searching going on; things moving, small cabinet doors opening, those types of things. Timmy tried to remain rational about this. No one was home, but perhaps he was being pranked. It could be someone from school who knew about the channel and challenge, he thought.
The noises continued as he sat frozen in fear and thought. If this were someone playing a prank, they would’ve had to have access to the garage or just broken in. That seemed extreme, but if not that, then was it really a spirit? Timmy strategically pulled down some clothes and the small blanket he had been grasping to put over himself. He kept a small opening for air and the ability to still listen.
He continued to track the sounds from the other room while attempting to make himself as tiny as possible. The noises shifted back into the main hallway. They grew louder and louder until it finally sounded like the bedroom door started opening. Timmy tensed his whole body up. Whatever was out there was coming straight towards him.
The next noises that Timmy could clearly hear were the sounds of scratching from outside the door. The camera continued to roll while sitting on the storage containers. He’d not even thought of picking it back up, feeling that he’d have to be prepared and would need both his hands free for whatever could arise. He tried hard to keep his breathing silent. The combo of the small space and clothes-based hiding spot made things very uncomfortable, though. Sweat continued down his forehead as the scratches made their way toward the closet. They inched closer to Timmy’s location until suddenly stopping completely.
Timmy thought that this was it. If he’d summoned a spirit, this was the end of the game. He’d been found. He expected that next the doors would slide open, but instead, a familiar voice.
“Timmy? It’s me, Grandma.”
This sent chills down Timmy’s spine. It sounded exactly like his Grandma, but he knew that couldn’t be possible.
“Please come out of there, Timmy! You’ve been so distant lately. Don’t you have any time for me anymore? Remember that wonderful afternoon in the pumpkin patch?”
Even if Timmy wanted to scream and run away, both those options would be off the table since he was completely overwhelmed and frozen with dread.
New sounds started from just outside the door. There was a low groan that lasted for five seconds, followed by a series of taps. The taps started just outside the closet, on the wall. They traveled slowly and methodically over to the closet door.
The nasty sweat continued, some getting in his eyes as he attempted to wiggle some extremities to try and unfreeze himself while also contemplating an exit strategy. The instructions stated that if found by the possessed object, the hider would be stabbed by the object originally used to stab it. There was also a risk of possession of the hider by the spirit.
To make sure this didn’t happen, Timmy thought that he’d somehow have to see the bear before it saw him. He didn’t want to believe it, but if that door suddenly swung open, that could be it. He decided that the only thing he really could do was try to build the clothes up to make a decoy pile and slide himself stealthily to the other side of the closet. From there, he could attempt a sneak attack from the side. This was assuming that the entity decided to stick to one side and was somewhat able to be tricked. He listened intently to the taps and was sure they were still coming from the side that he was currently on.
Moving as quickly and as quietly as he could, Timmy started by shoving all of the layers enveloping him into their own body-shaped pile. Next, he picked up his camera and got into a ready position. He listened for any sort of possible signal that the entity was about to slide open the door. After about a minute of steady tapping, there was silence. This was it.
Timmy took a breath. It was now or never, he thought. In one swift motion, he waddled to the other side, keeping one hand on the camera and the other on his closet door. As he reached the other door, he realized that his assumptions were correct. The other door in front of his previous position was starting to slide open. The race was on as Timmy quickly started opening his door. When he had enough space for his head, he quickly popped it out and swallowed the salt water.
To his shock, the bear was still upright with one hand on the door. It was still in the act of slowly sliding open the door and searching. Timmy, now fully out of the closet, used this window to pin the bear down.
“Ha! I won!” Timmy shouted as he reached for his remaining salt water, still using his foot to keep the bear down.
To end the ritual, Timmy circled the bear with the rest of the water. He took one last look at the bear before closing his eyes and chanting, “I win!” three times.
After ending the ritual, Timmy picked up his camera to record a quick outro for his audience.
“Hey guys, it’s your boy Xenophage again. I just finished the solo hide-and-seek challenge, and I just wanted to put a warning out there. You should not mess with this stuff. It’s not worth it. I’ll have more info later, but I just needed to get that out. Oh, and your boy totally crushed it! Xenophage69 out baby!”
-Epilogue-
Timmy awoke late the next morning to the sounds of birds and the smells of coffee and bacon. His folks were sitting at the table conversing while his dad read the paper and his mother enjoyed her coffee. He’d made it. After all that fear and excitement, he’d actually made it. He breathed a sigh of relief as he got up, put on his robe, and made his way into the kitchen.
When he arrived, his parents were mid-conversation. He waited for a lull before popping in with “Morning. When did you guys get in? I didn’t hear a thing.”
To his surprise, they continued to face each other and say nothing.
“Hello?” Timmy asked, wondering what this was about.
His father closed the paper and went over to the sink to start some dishes while starting up another discussion with Timmy’s mother.
“It sure is late. Did Timmy stay at a friend’s house last night?”
His mother looked up in thought for a second, “Hm, not that I’m aware of. Maybe he had a long night. You know how he is with that video channel.”
Timmy tried one more desperate plea, but still his parents did not turn towards him. He started walking in the direction of his father. This had to be some kind of prank. It was the only rational thing that Timmy could come up with. His dad was still turned in the direction of the sink when Timmy approached.
“Dad!” Timmy shouted.
He attempted to tap on his shoulder; however, instead of touching his shoulder, Timmy’s hands passed right through.
Suddenly, Timmy’s eyes grew wide and his stomach turned. It was starting to hit him. He was no longer “here”.
After a few hours, Timmy’s parents started to panic. They looked all around the house, called multiple people who may have had information, and yet still had no answers.
Days passed, his parents continued, not giving up hope. They, and a large group of community members, continued search efforts. Timmy’s mom made desperate pleas to the local media, “Timmy, if you are seeing this, we love and miss you so much. We won’t stop searching!”. Timmy was watching; he saw everything, but there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it.
After a few weeks, the search efforts had started to die down, and Timmy’s folks became drained. They walked around the house like zombies, either burying their heads in various vices or desperately searching for any type of clue that could give them any idea about their son’s whereabouts.
One late evening, Timmy’s dad was having one of his desperate searching type of nights. He rummaged through Timmy’s bedroom for what was now the 50th time. He fumbled through drawers, looked under the bed, and all over the closet. Suddenly, an item on Timmy’s nightstand caught his eye: the camera. He’d passed it many times, yet for some reason, never thought to check it for any clues. Quickly, his father grabbed the camera, opened the LED screen, and checked out some footage. Minutes into watching, he started getting sick to his stomach. He closed the viewfinder for a moment and called loudly down the hall, “Hun? Hunny?! I found something that you’re going to want to take a look at.”
THE END
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