Sinister & Unsolved: Campfire Compilation

Thanks to Zachdoc for sponsoring today's. video. Hey, it's me. Welcome to another. W Files compilation. We've been getting. a lot of requests for ghost stories and. other spooky stuff. So, today we're. Hey guys, can you stop rolling and give. us a second, please? >> Look, I'm not doing this. I like UFOs. and conspiracies. I'm not reading a. bunch of ghost stories. Did I just hear. a grown human say he's afraid of ghosts?

>> No, I I said I'm not reading these. >> Coward. I've been dead inside for years. Nothing scares me. >> Then you read the first one. >> I would, but the. ball lights, it's broken. >> No, it isn't. >> It's not. Oh, good heavens. I'm lost. without my readers. >> You're afraid, too? >> I'm not afraid. I'm uh I'm vigilant. >> Uh-huh. Then why is Gertie here?

>> Uh, she's my lookout. >> She's facing the wall. >> Ghosts come through walls. Do the math. >> Okay, let me tell you what happened. The. other night, the studio door opened and. closed itself on its own, and it's been. freaking me out ever since. >> No. No. Uh, did you say anything to it? >> No. >> Good. Never talk first. Nobody's talked. to them for like 200 years. You say one. word and it never shuts up. It's like. every ghost is a time share salesman. >> Okay, so neither of us is doing this.

>> We need a professional. Someone who. tells these stories every week and never. blinks. >> You have no eyelids. You never blink. >> It's a figure speech. >> Oh, I know who we call. >> Who? Hey everybody, my name is Mr. Ballin and. I tell strange, dark, and mysterious.

stories on my YouTube channel called Mr. Ballin and my podcast, the Mr. Ballin. podcast, Strange, Dark, and Mysterious. Stories. which is why I feel especially. comfortable subbing in for AJ today. because today we are doing a compilation. episode of 15 absolutely insane just. head spinning stories that are all real. and unsolved which means they are all. the subject of endless conspiracy. theories and armchair detective. discussions and just really interesting. internet rabbit holes. And I also just.

want to warn you that overall this. episode is terrifying. These stories are. all deeply disturbing and I think part. of the reason for that is because. they're all about the really unsettling. place where horror and humanity. intersect. Each topic connects to a. universal feeling or truth or or moment. that a lot of us can relate to. Whether. it's about a a teenager whose last act. before he disappears forever is to call. his dad because he loves his dad, or a. woman who is so desperate and so alone.

that she live streams her own kidnapping. and then begs the public for help, or. about a nurse so eager to do her job and. help people that she's almost killed by. a patient's blood. All of these stories. leave us with the sense that no matter. how insane or weird or or out there. these stories are, they're all about. real humans and what happened to them. could happen to any of us. So, for the. first episode, we have a trio of. stories. One is about a sinister group.

of kids. Another is about an. otherworldly phone call. And the third. is about an organ transplant gone. totally wrong. And all of these stories. will have you wondering what's going to. happen to us after we die. >> Who are you? >> Dr. Michael. >> Yeah, human. I I need a quick favor. >> What kind of favor? >> The kind where you don't ask follow-up. questions. >> Then no. >> Oh, come on. I just need you to swing by. the Motel 6 on Route 9 and tell the guy.

next to the ice machine that the walrus. is ready. Repeat that. I will not. >> I give him cash only. Small crisp bills. He's funny about the crinkly ones. Also, don't make eye contact. He He's funny. about that, too. >> What am I paying for exactly? >> Yeah. Gauze, tape, and uh whatever. knocks out a 3 oz fish for 20 minutes. Ideally, something strong enough to. knock out a horse. But I'm not picking. about species. Actually, make it 40.

minutes. Wyatt's never done this before, and uh he's got big paws. Is that my. Dremel? Are you in my garage? >> Our Dremel? In our garage? Hello. And. yes, I'm having an emergency operation. Wyatt uh dared me to do something and uh. it did not go as planned. >> Please don't perform surgery in my. garage. The HOA is already all over me. about the garden gnome incident. >> I do not want to talk about the gnome. This is all his fault. No, you idiot.

The Vaseline, not the wood glue. Okay, now the wood glue. >> What happened? >> Here's a an item stuck in a certain. location. Uh, the dare was Wyatt's idea. Uh, uh, but gravity did most of the. damage. >> Virgil, put the belt sander down. Nobody. said sand. I said sandwich for after. >> Why don't you call an actual doctor? >> Uh, Dr. Bumbershoot retired, so I called. a new guy. 40 minutes of hold music,

human. the same 11 seconds of saxophone. Uh somewhere around minute 30 I lost my. grip on linear time and made peace with. the item. Uh so so I built an o instead. much faster. >> You need to try ZCO. It's a free website. that lets you find a local in-et network. doctor and book instantly. No hold. music. >> How did you just lubricate and wedge. your way into today's sponsor? >> Well, somebody had to. I'm not the best.

at setting up doctor's appointments. Between filming, writing, and editing. the show, there's always something more. urgent to deal with. So, things that. actually matter keep getting pushed to. next week, then to the week after that. And it's not even about being busy. It's. that booking the appointment feels like. a chore. Calling, getting put on hold, finally hearing, "We can get you in 3. months from Tuesday." So, you just don't. book it. If this sounds familiar to you, you're not alone. Zachdoc is here to get. you an appointment today. Zodoc is a.

free website where you find local in-et. network doctors, read real patient. reviews, and see actual appointment. openings, then book with one click. No. calling required. Most people get seen. within 24 to 72 hours, sometimes even. the same day. You deserve the best care. possible. Whatever it is, big or small, it's better to know than keep worrying. about it. Taking care of your health. just got easier. Head to. zdock.com/wyfiles. or click the link in the description to.

get started and check that appointment. off your to-do list. >> I booked tomorrow 9:00 a.m. in network. >> Great. Can I get my garage back? >> Garage is all yours. Uh uh. Also, tell. the HOA if they were right about that. gnome. That thing's a safety hazard and. he's a little handsy.

Gather around because this happened. September 12th, 2008, the 4:22 p.m. Metro Link left Union Station packed. with commuters. Charles Peek stood in the aisle of the. front car. He was 49 years old. He. texted his fianceé, Andrea, I'm almost. there. That was the last message he ever. sent. Minutes later, the commuter train. slammed head-on into a Union Pacific. freight train. Both traveling over 40.

mph. Combined impact speed 82 mph. Charles Peek died instantly. 12 hours later, his family sat in a. living room watching news footage of the. wreckage. Then Andrea's phone lit up on. the table. The caller ID said Charles.

We think of telephones as everyday. things, plastic and glass, good for. ordering pizza or doom scrolling through. social media. But since their invention, people suspected they could serve. another purpose. Nicola Tesla built a. radio to reach the spirit world. Thomas. Edison believed he could do the same. He. called it a spirit phone, a device to. bridge this world and the next. In 1920, Edison told Scientific American he'd. been working on an apparatus to see if.

it is possible for personalities which. have left this earth to communicate with. us. He died in 1931 without completing. it, or so his assistants claimed. But. these calls do happen. In 1979, scientists published the first. comprehensive study of phone calls from. the dead. They documented over 100. cases. 72% occurred within 24 hours of. death. 89% featured heavy static or poor. connection quality. 94% described voices.

as distant, mechanical, or hollow. Average call duration 6 to 15 seconds. The pattern was clear. The calls were. real. But were they messages from beyond. or something else? Sometimes the dead call to say goodbye. Sometimes they call with a warning. Dean. Coons is famous for writing horror. novels. But his most terrifying story is. when he lived. Kun was in his home on a. Tuesday afternoon in 1988 working alone. in a quiet house. The phone rang, an.

unlisted number. He picked it up and. heard that heavy rhythmic static. crackling through the receiver. Then a. woman's voice cut through the noise. It. was faint but distinct. It sounded. exactly like his mother. But his mother. had been dead for over a decade. Coons. didn't speak. He couldn't. The voice. didn't say hello. It didn't ask how he. was doing. It said only one thing. repeated in a flat tone. Be careful, Dean. Be careful. It didn't sound like a. recording. It sounded like a.

transmission from somewhere else. Then. the line went dead. 2 days later, Akun. visited his father at a mental care. facility. His father suffered from. dementia. Kun walked into the room and. his father looked at him, reached into a. drawer and pulled out a knife. The blade. was 8 in long and a razor sharp. His. father lunged and tried to stab him. Kun. caught his father's wrist inches from. his chest. His father was 73 years old, but fought like a man possessed. It took. three orderlys to pull them apart. Kun.

wrestled the knife away. He subdued his. father without getting hurt. If he. hadn't been on edge, if he hadn't been. warned, he might not have reacted fast. enough. His mother reached across. whatever separates the living from the. dead to save her son's life. But Charles. Peek wasn't calling to warn anyone. He. wasn't calling to say goodbye. He was. leading them somewhere.

The Chadzsworth crash was the deadliest. train accident in California history. I. lived in LA at the time. I remember it. The impact fused the trains together. into a single mass of twisted steel. The. fires burned for hours. Thick black. smoke was visible for 20 m. 2,500. gallons of diesel fuel leaked from. ruptured tanks. The smell of burning. plast and diesel reached Northridge 6. miles away. Andrea was at the station. waiting for Charles when the news broke.

She drove to the crash site, but police. held her back. She joined his parents, his brother, his sister, and his. stepmother in a waiting area. They sat. in that room for hours, terrified, waiting for the survivor list. Then they. were waiting for the list of the dead. And then in the middle of that silence, Andrea's phone rang. She looked at the. screen. Charles. The room went still. She grabbed the phone with shaking hands. and pressed answer. Charles, baby, are you there? She.

expected a voice, a cry for help, anything. She got static. That low. rhythmic hum like wind blowing through a. long tunnel or someone trying to breathe. through damaged lungs. The call lasted 6. seconds and it dropped. The family stared at each other. Pocket. dial glitch. Well, 5 minutes later, it. happened again. This time, his son's. phone rang. Caller ID. Dad, he answered, "Dad, where are you?" Static, heavy,

hollow silence. Then the line went dead. Then his brother's phone rang. Then his. stepmothers. For the next 11 hours, his. phone launched a desperate campaign. It. called everyone he loved, his fiance, his parents, his siblings, his children. 35 separate calls. Each time they. answered, each time they screamed into. the receiver, begging him to speak, begging him to tell them where he was. And each time they got that strange. hollow static to the family, this meant. one thing. Charles was alive. He.

survived the crash. He was trapped in. the wreckage, maybe pinned, maybe. injured too badly to speak, but he was. conscious. He was holding his phone. He. was pressing send. He was telling them. he was still there. The family ran to. the police station and shoved their. phones in the officer's faces. He's. calling us. Look, he's calling right. now. This changed the entire operation. Before the calls, firefighters worked in. recovery mode. They assumed everyone in. the front car was dead. They moved. carefully, treating the wreckage as a. crime scene. But if a survivor was.

calling out, this was now a rescue. mission. The fire chief sent 250 firefighters to. the site. 50 paramedics stood by. They. brought cutting equipment, jacks, cranes. Over 100 tons of steel had to be. moved piece by piece without causing. further collapse. Police contacted. Verizon and traced the signal. Every. call came from PC's phone. Every ping. came from the same location. The phone. was broadcasting from the epicenter of. the disaster. The lead passenger car.

crushed to half its original size. The. firefighters went back in. The work was. dangerous. Wreckage twisted under. immense pressure. Fire is still. smoldering. Air thick with smoke in the. stench of burning plastic and diesel. But they had a target now. They cut. through steel. They lifted heavy debris. Every time the phone rang, they got a. fresh ping. The signal guided them. through tons of twisted metal. 35 calls. 35 pings. The rescue team worked through.

the night, exhausted, running on. adrenaline and hope. At 3:28 a.m., 12. hours after the crash, the call stopped. Maybe the phone battery died. Or maybe. Charles had lost consciousness. But it. didn't matter. They had his location. 1. hour later, just before dawn, they broke. through the final layer of debris. They. aimed their flashlights into the crushed. car. The beam hit a man in a seat. It. was Charles. He didn't look injured. Unconscious, maybe. For a second, they. thought they pulled off a miracle. They.

didn't. The rescue team rushed to him. Charles. was still strapped into his seat, not. pinned by machinery, not trapped under. rubble. He didn't look injured. A. firefighter reached out and checked for. a pulse. Charles skin was cold. Charles. Peek was dead and had been for a while.

The injuries were catastrophic. Crushed. thoracic cavity, severed spine, massive. internal bleeding. His heart stopped. instantly when the trains collided. The. crash occurred at 4:22 p.m. Charles Peek. died at 4:22 p.m. According to the. medical examiner, brain function ceased. the moment of impact. No suffering, no. waiting for rescue, instantaneous death. He was dead 12 hours before they found. him. He was dead before the first call. to Andrea. He was dead for the call to. his son, the call to his brother, the.

call to his stepmother. Dead for every. single one of the calls that guided the. rescue team through the wreck. The comfortable explanation is technical. glitch. Maybe the impact shortcircuited. the phone. Many damaged wiring was. causing it to randomly dial contacts. from his favorites list over and over. for 11 hours. But there's a problem with. that theory. When firefighters found. Charles, they wanted to secure his. personal effects, especially the phone. that guided the entire rescue operation.

They checked his pockets, empty. They. checked the floor around his seat, the. seat pockets, the debris within arms. reach. No phone. They expanded the. search, sifting through wreckage in. every direction. They checked unders. seats and overhead compartments beneath. debris. No phone. They swept the area. with metal detectors. They photographed. every piece of wreckage before moving. it. Standard protocol for securing. evidence. They found his wallet. They. found his keys. They never found the. phone. The device that made 35 calls. over 11 hours. The device that pinged.

cell towers and transmitted a signal. strong enough to guide a rescue team. through the wreckage was gone. It wasn't. in his hand. It wasn't in his pocket. It. wasn't anywhere in the car. The signal. came from his seat, but the source. didn't exist. Charles Peek died instantly. He didn't. have a pulse, no brain activity, no. phone. Yet, for 11 hours, he reached. out. He called the woman he was going to. marry. He called the children he was. leaving behind. He called everyone who. loved him over and over until they found.

his body. And once they did, he hung up. We want to believe that when we die, we. leave this world completely. But stories. like this make you wonder if the. connection is ever fully severed. Maybe. in the static between stations, a signal. can still get through. So tonight, before you go to sleep, check your phone. Make sure it's. charged. Make sure the volume is on. because if it rings in the middle of the.

night and the caller ID shows a name you. haven't seen in years, don't be afraid. Answer it. They might need your help. Or. you might need theirs. Gather around because this happened. Abalene, Texas, January 1996.

Brian Bethl sat in his car outside an. empty theater parking lot. He was. writing a check to pay his internet. bill. He stopped under the marquee to. use the light. Then a rhythmic tapping. on his window. Two boys stood outside, hoodies pulled low, faces hidden. Brian. rolled down the window just to crack. The boy in the green hoodie stepped. forward. That's when Brian saw his eyes.

Brian Bethl was a reporter, 20 years at. the paper crime beat. He had interviewed. murderers, documented accident scenes, covered trauma that sent other reporters. to therapy. He was running an errand. Nothing unusual about it. But sitting in. that parking lot, he gripped the. steering wheel until his knuckles went. white. His heart slammed against his. chest. Every instinct said run. His. brain didn't understand why. Not yet. The noise of the city faded away and. traffic went silent and the wind died. Even the electrical hum of the parking.

lot lights stopped. The silence was. absolute. Brian's ears popped like a. change in pressure, like an airplane. descending, but it was instant. The hair on his arms stood straight up. and his ears popped again. Then the. parking lot lights buzzing came back and. the traffic returned. But that uneasy. feeling remained. Brian looked at the. boys outside his window. They looked. normal enough, maybe 10 or 12 years old. One was slightly taller. They had pale. skin, red hair, nothing remarkable. They.

stood completely still. No fidgeting, no. shifting weight. This is not the way. kids naturally move. They stood like. statues, patient and motionless. The. taller boy smiled, but it was a. performance. Friendliness that didn't. match the stillness. The patience, the. way the boys watched him. >> Hey, mister, we have a problem. >> That voice was wrong. Smooth and well.

spoken, but didn't sound like a child's. voice. It sounded like an adult. imitating a child, hitting the right. notes, but not quite authentic. The boy. gestured toward the theater. >> We want to see the movie, but we left. our money at home. Could you give us a. ride to my house to get the cash? It's. not far. >> Brian's thoughts felt slow, heavy, like. he was moving underwater. But his hand. moved toward the door handle without his. permission.

He watched his own fingers, reaching for. it. He tried to fight it, tried to tell. himself, "These are just kids who needed. help." He forced himself to look. directly at the boy, tried to break. whatever spell had taken hold. The boy. tilted his head and light from the. marquee cut across his face. No. reflection, no life. Then Brian saw the. boy had no eyes.

Brian couldn't breathe. His hands were. shaking. Adrenaline flooded his system. Every cell in his body screamed the same. message. Run. The boy had no eyes. Not. damaged eyes. Not clouded eyes. Voids. The entire visible surface of each eye. was solid black, edgetoedge darkness. Then the trance broke and panic flooded. in. His hand froze on the door lock, then snatched back like he touched a hot. stove. The change in the boys was. immediate. The polite act dropped. The.

taller boy's expression shifted to cold. fury, a fury that wasn't human. He. didn't scream or pound on the glass. He. just stared with those impossible black. eyes. An itch formed in Brian's skull, fresher building. The taller boy's voice. was so calm, so reasonable. >> You just need to get to our mother's. house. It won't take long. >> Brian's fingers touched the lock again. He didn't decide to do it. His hand just. moved. The kid didn't sound like a kid. anymore. His voice dropped. It sounded.

cold. It sounded dead. >> We can't come in unless you invite us. Let us in. We don't have a gun. Brian hadn't mentioned guns, hadn't. thought about guns. If the boy was. trying to reassure him, he just made it. worse. Then Brian thought about what the. kid just said. They needed permission. He couldn't just open the door himself, like some rule prevented it. >> We can't come in unless you tell us we. can.

>> It was almost like the boy's voice was. coming from inside Brian's brain. He. looked down. His hand was an inch from. the lock. He had to get out of here. Ryan slammed his foot on the gas. The. tires squealled. He spun the wheel and. tore out of the parking lot. He checked. the mirror. The street behind him was. empty. The parking lot was empty. The. boys were gone. Not walking away, not. running, just gone. Brian drove home. fast. He ran into his house, threw the. deadbolt, checked every window. He.

turned on every light, and sat in his. living room holding a kitchen knife. until the sun came up. The next day, he. did what any journalist would do. He. wrote down everything that happened. Then he published the account online. He. titled it simply be blackeyed kids. Within hours, the email started. A cop. with 20 years on the force. A nurse, a. software engineer, all with the same. story. Two children, black eyes, that. polite request. And every email said, "I've never been that scared in my.

entire life. The emails came from everywhere. Different states, different witnesses, but the same story. The details match. too perfectly to be a coincidence. Always at night, always a knock or a tap. to announce their presence. Always a. mundane request, a phone call, directions, a ride home, and always that. wall of silence, the sudden drop in.

temperature, the overwhelming sense that. a predator is nearby. Portland, 1998. A software engineer. leaving downtown late at night. Three. kids on a street corner. Two boys, one. girl. They tried to guilt him. One said, "You promised you'd help us." He'd never. seen them before. As his car passed, he. saw their eyes in the street light. Solid black. Different state, different. witness, same eyes. The reports kept. coming. Over,200 documented accounts, 47.

countries, same eyes, same silence, same. requests. But there was one strange. pattern repeated across every account, every country, every year. 100% of. documented cases show the same. limitation. They cannot enter without. permission. They can't get into your car. unless you unlock the door. They can't. cross your threshold unless you invite. them. They're bound by some ancient law. that even they can't break. So, they. manipulate. They beg. They weaponize.

guilt. >> It's freezing out here, mister. >> We're just kids. Why are you scared of. us? Please, our mom will be so worried. >> They use human empathy as a weapon. We're programmed to help children. Evolution wired us that way. They know. exactly which buttons to push. But. here's what keeps researchers up at. night. We have hundreds of accounts from. people who refused, people who listened. to their instincts, who drove away, who. kept the door locked. We have zero. firsthand accounts from anyone who let.

them in. No blog post describing what. happened next. No police reports filed. the following morning. No social media. updates. The people who open the door. don't tell their stories. Brian Bethl. still lives in Abalene. He still works. as a journalist. In 2013, a reporter. asked if he still thinks about that. night. >> I I've covered murders, accidents, all. kinds of trauma. Nothing. nothing.

compares to that level of fear. Not that long ago, he found two small. handprints on his car window. That's. scary enough. But what really bothers. Brian, the handprints were on the. inside. gather around because this happened.

Charleston, South Carolina, 1995. Sunny Graham lay in a hospital bed. His. heart was enlarged and failing. Doctors. gave him weeks to live. 200 miles away, a man named Terry Codddle put a gun to. his head and pulled the trigger. Terry's heart was strong. Doctors rushed. it to Charleston and transplanted it. into Sunny's chest. Sunny woke up with a. new pulse, feeling stronger than he had. in years. But Sunny inherited more from. Terry than just his heart. A lot more.

Sunonny Graham was a popular guy at. Hilton Head. As manager of the central. plant, he knew just about everyone on. the barrier island. His cooking was. legendary at fundraisers and community. events. The local high school football. field was named in his honor. He and his. wife were married 38 years, two. children. In 1994, a virus attacked Sunny's heart.

muscle. The damage was severe. By 1995, Sunny was 56 years old and dying. His name went on two transplant lists. He waited and his heart kept failing. One evening, Sunny got the call. A heart. had become available. Terry Cuddle's. heart, close to a perfect match. Terry. Cuddle spent 4 days on life support. A. 22 caliber slug entered his skull just. behind his right ear. He was 33 years. old. That day, his wife, Cheryl, agreed.

to take him off life support. His organs. could save lives. The surgery went well. Within six months, Sunny was strong. enough to go on a fishing trip to. Alaska. But something was different. Sunny had always hated hot dogs. The. smell, the taste, everything about him. Now he ate them every day, sometimes two. or three. He developed a taste for beer. and heavy metal music. He never cared. about beer and metal before. His wife. started seeing changes. Sunny's. handwriting looked different. He walked.

differently. He laughed differently. She. said he seemed like a different person. His friends noticed, too. Friends that. he had for 40 years or more. But Sunny. felt something else, something he. couldn't explain to anyone. He felt a. pull toward the donor's family. He. needed to thank them, to meet them, to. understand who had given him this second. chance. In late 1996, he wrote the. donor's widow. Her name was Cheryl. Codddle. She agreed to meet him. They met at a restaurant in Charleston. in January 1997. The moment Sunny saw.

her, his chest tightened. He felt a. physical jolt, a sudden acceleration. that didn't feel like attraction or. nerves. It felt like recognition. His. heart beat faster when she smiled. It. slammed against his ribs when she spoke. He felt a rush of emotion that didn't. belong to him. Love, guilt, and a. desperate need to protect this woman. Cheryl felt it, too. She said later that. meeting Sunny was like seeing Terry. again. Cheryl was only 30 years old. She.

looked at this older man with gray hair. and weathered hands, but she felt her. dead husband's presence. She felt him. looking through Sunny's eyes. Sunny went home to his wife that night, but he couldn't stop thinking about. Cheryl. He called her. They talked for. hours. He visited her. He felt compelled. to take care of her in ways he couldn't. explain. Soon, Sunny's marriage fell. apart. His wife couldn't compete with a. ghost. That April, Cheryl married. another man. Sunny gave away the bride, standing in for her late father. Sunny.

watched her walk towards someone else. But it was Tererry's heart pounding in. his chest. That marriage didn't last. either. Both couples fell apart under. the weight of what neither could. explain. The pull between Sunny and. Cheryl that defied reason. Cheryl married Sunny in December 2004. Two different men, same heart. And that. heart was bringing her husband back.

For a while, things felt right. Sunny. felt younger. He had a new wife, a new. heart, a new beginning. Then the. depression started. Terry Codle hadn't just died. He killed. himself. He was a man who struggled with. depression he couldn't escape. He put a. gun to his head because the weight of. living became unbearable. And now. something dark lived inside Sunny. His. personality shifted. Friends who'd known.

him for decades said they didn't. recognize him anymore. The gentle, kind. man who was the first to do a friend a. favor. That man was disappearing. And Sunny talked about feeling trapped, about living someone else's life, about. thoughts that didn't feel like his own. Sunny became moody and withdrawn. He. grew possessive, jealous in ways he'd. never been. He accused Cheryl of seeing. other men. He followed her car. He. checked her phone. Then the fight. started. The relationship turned toxic. Sunny felt trapped in a life he didn't.

recognize. He said he didn't feel like. himself anymore. He felt like a. passenger in his own body watching. someone else make decisions. In 2007, Sunonny drew up a will. He. asked his nephew to be the executive. He. organized his finances, paid off debts, settled accounts. People noticed. They. asked if he was okay. Sunny said he was. fine just getting things in order. The. beer, the hot dogs, the instant love for. Cheryl. His handwriting changed to match. Terry's looser, more careless style.

These weren't coincidences. These were. Terry's preferences, Terry's traits, Terry's life. Sunny walked a path. already walked. He followed footprints. that weren't his own. The years passed. Whatever joy Sunny found in his second. chance evaporated. Instead, Sunny had a. sense of impending doom. He was living. Terry Cado's life, and he knew how that. life ended.

April 1st, 2008, 12 years 12 days after. the transplant, neighbors in Videlia, Georgia were jolted awake by the sound. of a shotgun blast. That morning, Sunonny Graham drank his. coffee and told Cheryl he was taking his. 9-year-old stepson to the dentist, then. off to work, a normal day. But Sunny. made a detour to his backyard shed.

There, the 69-year-old picked up the 12A. shotgun he'd taken on countless hunting. trips. He pointed the muzzle at the. right side of his throat, just like. Terry did all those years ago. Then. Sunny pulled the trigger. It was April. 1st, almost exactly 13 years since. another man's suicide gave Sunny Graham. a second chance at life. Different. weapon, same method, same location. Sunonny Graham died instantly. He left. Cheryl a widow for the second time. Two. husbands lost, both to self-inflicted.

gunshots to the head. Two men, one. heart, same fate. The story spread. across the world. Reporters wrote about. cellular memory and whether organs could. hold a suicide gene. The internet lit up. with theories. Scientists documented. this phenomenon for decades. Personality. changes following heart transplantation. four categories. Changes in preferences, alterations in emotions and temperament, modifications of identity, and memories. from the donor's life. The heart.

contains about 40,000 neurons, a network. that operates independently of the. brain, a heart brain that communicates. birectionally with the brain and other. organs. Researchers documented this. cardiac nervous system in the early. 1990s. Some theorized that cellular. memory could transfer personality. characteristics from donor to recipient. Studies of 73 heart transplant patients. showed 89% reported personality changes. after receiving their organ. And not. subtle shifts, fundamental alterations.

in who they were. Claire Sylvia received. a heart lung transplant from an. 18-year-old male motorcyclist. She. suddenly craved beer and chicken. nuggets, food she later learned were her. donor's favorites. She dreamed about a. man named Tim L. Her donor's name was. Tim. A woman received a heart from a. police officer killed in the line of. duty. She started seeing flashes of. light in her eyes, feeling burning. sensations on her cheeks. She later. learned the officer was shot in the.

face. A 5-year-old boy received the. heart of a three-year-old named Tim. The. recipient had never been told the. donor's name. He called his donor Tenny. He said Timmy got hurt when he fell down. and likes Power Rangers. Well, Tim fell. from a window ledge reaching for a Power. Ranger toy. The theories exist. The documentation. exists. The cases stack up one after. another. People receiving organs and. receiving something else. Preferences, memories, traits that aren't even their.

own. But theories don't explain the. weight of it. The lived experience of. looking in the mirror and not. recognizing yourself. Of loving someone. you've never met. Of walking toward a. shed with a shotgun because something. inside you. Something that isn't you. knows exactly what to do. Sunny Graham's heart remembered what his. brain never knew. It remembered Terry's. widow. It remembered Tererry's pain. And. when the time came, it remembered. Terry's choice to end it all.

There's actually something really. touching about these stories. The phone. call from the dead and the heart. transplant offer some pretty compelling. evidence that suggests our loved ones. don't actually die after death. That. there's an actual possibility that we. will see or hear from them again in one. way or another. And in both cases, there's a hard to ignore pile of actual. tangible proof that this kind of thing.

is not just in our heads. Now, I can't. say anything actually uplifting about. the blackeyed horror kids. Sometimes. things are just horrifying. And I think. here, like AJ pointed out, the reason. this is extra alarming is is simply. because their whole attack is just. incredibly effective. These are kids, typically vulnerable people, who talk to. their prey in a way that triggers a very. human response. Empathy. We all want to. help the lost kids on the side of the.

road because driving past them and not. looking back feels really, really bad. Okay, so our next episode is about three. extremely bizarre disappearances that. literally defy any kind of explanation. And one of these cases was actually so. confounding and wellknown that during. one of his concerts, a literal rock. legend asked his audience for help in. solving it.

Gather out. This happened in Columbus, Ohio on April 1st, 2006. Brian Schaefer. walked into a bar at 1:15 in the morning. with two friends. One way in, one way. out. The building was covered in. cameras. Every exit monitored, every. door, all watched, all recorded. Brian. was a 27-year-old medical student. The. plan was med school, then residency, then Mario's girlfriend, Alexis. But. that plan would never happen.

In a building covered by security. cameras, surrounded by 200 witnesses, in. a room with one way in and one way out, Brian Schaefer vanished. Two weeks earlier, Brian's mother died. Renee Schaefer lost her battle with a. rare cancer that destroys bone marrow.

She was Brian's anchor, the one who. pushed him through undergraduate studies. in microbiology, the one who celebrated. when he got into Ohio State's medical. program. She died in March. Brian was at. her bedside holding her hand when she. passed. Two weeks later, he carried it. everywhere. Friends said he handled it. well, kept his grades up. He attended. every lecture. But those closest to him. noticed the exhaustion, the way he'd. stare off during conversations, the. force smile when people asked him how he. was doing. The night of March 31st, Brian had.

dinner with his father, Randy, just the. two of them. Brian looked drained. dark. circles under his eyes. Randy thought. his son shouldn't go out that night. Thought he should rest, but he didn't. say it. He would regret that silence for. the rest of his life. After dinner, Brian called Alexis. Wagner, his girlfriend of 2 years, also. a medical student. She got home to. Toledo to visit her parents. Brian asked. Alexis if they were still on for Miami. She said she couldn't wait. Brian was.

excited. Three days on South Beach and. Brian planned to surprise her with a. proposal. The ring was already picked. out. He said he'd see her Monday. Then. he called Clint Florence, his roommate, his closest friend. Time to celebrate. the start of spring break. They started at the Ugly Tuna around. 9:00, a bar on the second floor of the. Gateway building near Ohio State. University. They had around, then went. bar hopping through the Arena District. and Short North. One shot at each stop. Nothing excessive, just two friends. blowing off steam after a brutal.

semester and the worst month of Brian's. life. Around midnight, they ran into. Meredith Reed, a friend of Klitsch. She. offered to drive them to their next. stop. Brian said, "Back to the tuna, the. last place Brian Schaefer would ever be. seen alive. The last place he would ever. be seen at all.

The security camera captured them at. 1:15 a.m. Three friends riding the. escalator to the second floor. Brian. looked relaxed, happy even. The ugly tuna occupied the entire second. floor, exposed brick, industrial. lighting, the bar along one wall, tables. everywhere, a stage in the corner. The. place was packed with college students. celebrating spring break, loud music and. louder conversations. Brian moved. through the crowd, buying drinks,

talking to people. Witnesses later said. he was more outgoing than usual, more. social, like he was working hard to have. a good time. Around 1:40 a.m., Brian and. Clint stepped out to the balcony area. overlooking the atrium. The camera. caught them there. Brian leaning against. the railing, Clint beside him. They. talked for a few minutes, but at some. point during that conversation, they got. into an argument. The camera saw it all. They went back inside. 15 minutes later, Brian was outside again alone. The.

camera recorded his final moments. He. stood near the entrance talking to two. young women, blonde, early 20s. The. conversation lasted about 2 minutes. Brian smiled. The women laughed. Nothing. seemed wrong. Those two women were never identified. Not Ohio State students, not locals. anyone recognized. They appeared on no. other camera in the building or. surrounding area that night. 19 years. later, nobody knows who they were. Brian said goodbye and the camera showed. him turning, walking back toward the bar. entrance, moving off screen. That was.

the last time anyone saw Brian Schaefer. At closing time, Clint and Meredith. searched the entire bar, bathrooms, back. rooms, storage areas. They asked the. staff. Nobody had seen him leave. 200. people came down the escalator as the. bar closed. Brian wasn't among them. Clint called his cell phone. It went. straight to voicemail. They waited. outside until sunrise. Brian never came. out.

Police reviewed every second of security. footage, every camera, every angle. The. lead detective tracked every person who. entered the bar that night, then tracked. them leaving. Everyone was accounted. for. Everyone except Brian. The detective told reporters, "I can say. with 100% certainty that Brian Schaefer. did not leave via the escalator. The.

surface elevator required a key card. Only employees had access. Staff were on. camera using it all night. None matched. Brian's description. But the back exit. was more complicated than it first. appeared. A service door not far from. where Brian was last seen opened to a. firstf flooror hallway that was. connected to an active construction area. with its own exterior exit. Officers. said navigating it would be nearly. impossible drunk, but the cameras. covering that route weren't fixed. One. penned back and forth on a cycle. The. other was manually operated. There were.

gaps. Not many, but enough that a person. could slip through unseen. That was the only crack in a sealed box, and nobody can prove Brian went through. it. No witnesses saw anyone use the. exit. Nobody saw anyone at the. construction site, but the gap existed. In a case that seems impossible, every. detail matters. Police checked cameras. at three other nearby bars. None of them. saw Brian either. Wherever he went after. walking off camera at the tuna, no other. camera spotted him. K9 units tracked.

Brian's scent from the street to the. escalator up to the bar entrance. Then. the dogs circled the same spot near the. door and sat down. The trail stopped as. if Brian was there one minute then gone. the next. Police organized search. parties. Volunteers comb the campus, construction sites, abandoned buildings. They search the Alentangi River, which. runs through Columbus near the campus. They even convinced the city to let them. search the sewer system, dumpsters, every alley within miles. Brian's.

apartment was only six blocks from the. bar. His car was parked outside. Nothing. inside was disturbed. Clothes in his. closet, books on his desk. Whatever. Brian was planning, he was planning on. coming home. His phone went directly to. voicemail. There was no GPS in 2006, so. no way to track it. He had his wallet. with him, but he didn't use his credit. cards. He didn't touch his bank account. No activity on anything. Monday morning, Alexis's engagement ring still sat in. his apartment. She waited at the.

airport, but Brian never showed, and the. flight to Miami left without Adam. Everyone who saw Brian that night was. asked to take a polygraph. His father. Randy took one and passed. Meredith Reed. took one, passed. Bar staff, other. friends, all agreed. All passed. All. except Clint Florence.

Clint was the only person to spend the. entire evening with Bryant. The last. friend to see him alive. the one who. admitted they argued on the balcony but. wouldn't say why. When police asked him. to take a lie detector test, he refused. Then he hired an attorney. Later, he was. subpoenaed to appear before a grand. jury. He refused to answer questions. there, too. Refusing a polygraph is. legally smart. Defense attorneys tell. clients to refuse them because the. machines are unreliable. Clint's refusal. doesn't make him guilty, but in a case. with zero leads and zero evidence, it's.

the one thread that won't stop pulling. Meanwhile, the search spiraled outward. A psychic told Randy Schaefer that. Brian's body was in water near a bridge. pier. So Randy and Derek, Brian's. younger brother, bought waiters. They. spent their weekends in the Alanti River. searching under bridges. Randy had just. buried his wife, and now he was standing. kneedeep in freezing water, searching. for the body of his son. Brian had a. Pearl Jam tattoo on his arm. When the. band played Cincinnati later that year,

Eddie Veter stopped between songs and. asked 15,000 people for information. about Brian Schaefer, the lead singer of. one of the biggest rock bands in the. world, standing on stage personally. asking for help finding a missing fan. >> seemed to vanish in the air and uh he. had a girlfriend Alexis who loved him. and they were planning on getting. married and uh he was uh going to men. school and uh he had a great dad and. Randy. uh came to one of our shows a number of.

years ago, maybe seven years ago. And um. uh the website I think has tried to keep. the issue uh to the forefront and keep. reminding people to be on the lookout. You got a 6'2 guy. You got a throw jet. too. So the fans like to uh keep the issue. afloat but to no avail. So, uh, we just. want to, uh, we were taking a second.

back there trying to figure out what to. play and, um, we just want to send this. one out to him and and, uh, I don't know. where whoever he is. Nobody had anything. 15,000 people in a. stadium and not one useful lead. Then in. September, something happened. Alexis. had been calling Brian's phone every. night before bed. Every single night. since April, the same thing every time.

Straight to voicemail. Straight to. voicemail. But then one night, 5 months. after Brian disappeared, his phone rang. For the first time in months, Brian. Schaefer's cell phone rang, but nobody. answered. Singular, Brian's wireless. provider, said it was probably just a. glitch, but a ping from the phone was. detected at a cell tower in Hillyard, Ohio, 14 miles northwest of Columbus.

Something activated that phone. The lead. was never explained. The phone went. silent again. It never pinged another. tower. Some investigators looked at the. so-called smiley face killer theory. Some believe the serial killer was. targeting drunk college-aged men in the. Midwest and dumping their bodies in. rivers. Young men think Brian's profile. had turned up dead in waterways across. several states. Police looked into it. The FBI looked into it. Both rejected. any connection. If the smiley face.

killer was real, and most law. enforcement said he isn't, Brian would. be the only victim whose body was never. found. Now, possible sightings were reported in. Michigan. In Texas, in Sweden, a man. matching Brian's description was seen at. a bar in the Caribbean. Another was. spotted at a bus station in the. southwest. Police investigated every. single one. Sent officers, compared. photos, checked records. Nothing panned. out. Randy Schaefer drove to Columbus. every weekend for 2 years, walked the. streets around the Gateway building,

handed out flyers, searched the river, hired investigators, spent everything he. had. In 2008, 2 years after Brian. vanished, Randy was killed in a freak. accident when a branch broke from a tree. and fell on him. Derek Schaefer, Brian's younger brother, inherited everything alone. The search, the questions, the weight of a family. that stopped existing, one member at a. time. A mother, a brother, a father. Three people gone in 2 years. Derek kept.

searching. He still does. Shortly after. Ry's death, Clint Florence's attorney. sent a letter to a private investigator. working the case. In it, he wrote, "If. Ryan is alive, which is what I'm led to. believe after speaking with the. detective involved, then it is Brian and. not Clint who is causing his family pain. and hardship.". The detective on the case believed Brian. was alive. In 2020, the Ohio Attorney. General's office digitally aged Brian's. photo to show what he might look like in. his mid-40s. Dine covered the case.

America's Most Wanted covered it. The. internet never let it go. There's a. subreddit dedicated to finding him. And. every year on April 1st, people share. his photo and ask the same question. Where is Brian Schaefer? He would be 46. years old today. 19 years have passed. His phone has never pinged another. tower. His credit cards have never been. used. His social security number has. never appeared in any database. No. hospital records, no police reports, no. death certificate. His body has never. been found.

The ugly tuna closed years ago. The. building still stands on North High. Street. The cameras are gone now. New. businesses occupy the space. But the. escalator still runs. But somewhere in. those final seconds, in a narrow window. between camera angles, between one frame. and the next, a 27-year-old medical. student vanished. The footage is still. there, archived in police evidence. Frame by frame, second by second. Cameras prove that Brian Schaefer. entered that building. They also prove.

that somehow he never left. Gather around. This happened in October. 2009. Hunters found an abandoned pickup. truck on a dirt road deep in the Samoy. Mountains of southeastern Oklahoma. The.

engine was cold. The doors were. unlocked. Inside, a small terrier named. Macy was pressed against the seat. She. was barely alive. She was trapped in the. cab for days with no food, no water, and. no one coming back for her. They also. found two cell phones, two wallets, and. a GPS unit. There were coats and jackets. inside, even though the nights were. dropping into the 40s. And sitting in. plain sight, $32,000 in cash.

There were no footprints leading away. from the vehicle. No blood, no sign of a. struggle. The truck was owned by Bobby. Jameson. He drove to the mountains with. his wife Cherylyn and their six-year-old. daughter Madison. For what reason, the. police never figured it out. The only. thing we know for sure is the Jameson. family is gone.

Bobby and Cherylyn Jameson lived in. Eupfala, a quiet town on the shore of. Lake Eupfala in southeastern Oklahoma. Bobby was 44. A bad car accident years. earlier had left him with chronic back. pain. He lived on a disability. settlement. Cherylyn was 40. She. suffered from bipolar disorder for. years. They fought, they struggled, but. they had their daughter Madison and made. a plan to get out. In the fall of 2009, the Jamesons found a 40 acre plot of. land near the town of Red Oak, about 30.

mi from home. It was deep in the Samboy. Range, remote and wooded, the kind of. place where you could disappear from the. world. They wanted a fresh start to. leave Eufala and everything in it. behind. On October 8th, they loaded up. the truck and drove out to see the. property. Madison rode in the back seat. with her dog, Macy. This was the last. day anyone saw them alive. The truck was found a few days later by. hunters who reported it to the Latimer. County Sheriff. When deputies arrived, the first thing they noticed was the.

dog. Macy was dehydrated and weak, but. alive. The second thing they noticed was. the money. About $32,000 in cash sitting. in plain sight. Nobody touched it. The. family's belongings also told a strange. story. Their IDs were still in the. truck. So were their phones. Their coats. were still in the truck. And October. nights in the Samo Range got cold. Wherever the Jamesons went after they. parked, they went without. identification, communication, money, or. the right clothes for the weather. They. took nothing. One detail the sheriff.

noticed from security camera footage. At. one point, Cherylyn placed a brown. briefcase in the truck. That briefcase. was never recovered. Neither was the 22. caliber handgun that she stashed in it. The cash, all $32,000 of it, sat. untouched when the truck was found. The. Jamesons weren't wealthy. They weren't. known for carrying cash. The disability. settlement may explain where the cash. came from, but it doesn't explain why. they brought every dollar they had to.

look at a piece of land in the. mountains, but the security cameras at. their house recorded something that. investigators have never been able to. explain. The footage is timestamped the. morning they left. It shows Bobby and. Cherylyn making trip after trip between. the house and the truck, back and forth, loading boxes, carrying bags. They don't. speak to each other. They don't look at. each other. Between trips, they stop, stand completely still, and stare at. nothing. Not at the ground, not at the. sky, just somewhere in the middle.

distance. Then after a few seconds, they. start moving again. Same pace, same. silence, like robots or zombies. The. sheriff who reviewed the tape said they. looked like they were in a trance. Not. arguing, not rushing, not behaving like. a normal couple packing for a day trip. Just silent mechanical repetition. Like. two people running on a program, like. two people without free will.

The Jamesons were already in trouble. long before they disappeared. And every. layer the investigators pulled back. revealed something darker. Bobby was. locked in a bitter legal battle with his. own father, Bob Dean Jameson. In 2008, Bobby had filed a protective order. claiming his father had tried to run him. over with a car. Bobby's petition. described his father as a very dangerous. man. He accused him of being involved. with meth and other criminal activity.

He said his father threatened to kill. him, his wife, and daughter. Then there. were the spirits. Bobby and Cherylyn had both visited. their pastor separately. They told him. the same thing. Something was living. inside their house. Spirits, entities. they could see but couldn't make leave. Bobby told the pastor he'd gone out and. bought a copy of the Satanic Bible. Not. to worship anything, he said, but to. find instructions for driving the. spirits out of the house. He asked if he.

knew where to buy special bullets that. could shoot the entities off the roof. The pastor didn't know what to say to. that. Nobody did. A handyman who'd been staying with the. family in the weeks before they. disappeared had connections to white. supremacist groups. After the Jamesons. vanished, investigators took a hard look. at him. They interviewed him multiple. times. They couldn't tie him to the. disappearance. On the property was a. large metal storage container the family. planned to move into while building on. the new land. Cherylyn had spray painted.

messages across its sides. One line. said, "Witches don't like it when their. cats are killed." The neighbors didn't. know what to make of it. Neither did the. police. Inside the abandoned truck was. an 11-page letter from Cherylyn to. Bobby, handwritten and full of rage. She. called him a hermit. She said she. resented him. She said she didn't need. him. Friends who read it later said it wasn't. a goodbye note. It was angry and raw, the kind of thing you write at 3 in the. morning when you've had enough. And then.

there was the last photo. It was on. Bobby's phone taken the day they. vanished. The image shows 6-year-old. Madison standing alone in the woods, not. smiling, not crying, just standing. perfectly still among the trees, looking. directly into the camera with a blank. hollow expression like she was waiting. for something to happen. Nobody knows who took that picture. It. was on Bobby's phone, but he wasn't in. it. Neither was Cherylyn. Madison is. alone. Trees behind her, dirt under her.

feet. And whoever was holding that phone. was the last person to see that little. girl alive. Search teams covered hundreds of acres. Dogs tracked scent trails that went. nowhere. Helicopters flew grid patterns. over the mountains. Volunteers walked. shoulderto-shoulder through dense brush. and still they found nothing. And four.

years passed. In November 2013, two deer hunters were. scouting a remote part of Lateral. County, dense oak forest, rocky terrain. less than 3 mi from where the truck was. abandoned in 2009. One of them stopped. walking. Something pale on the ground. caught his eye. Half hidden in the. underbrush were bones scattered across. the forest floor by four years of storms. and animals. Two adults, one child. In. July 2014, the Oklahoma Medical Examiner.

confirmed what everyone already knew, but no one wanted to hear. Bobby. Jameson, Cherylyn Jameson, Madison. Jameson. The official cause of death was. undetermined. And that word undetermined. is rare. Medical examiners almost always. find something. A fracture, a puncture, toxicology, something. But the Jamesons. gave them nothing. No bullet damage to. any of the bones. No knife marks. No. damage to the hyoid bone, which means. they weren't strangled. Four years of. Oklahoma heat, cold, rain, and wildlife.

destroyed the evidence of whatever. killed them. The case became national. news. Hundreds of tips came in over the. years, and none of them led anywhere. Every theory fell apart. Meth. Police. searched the house and found nothing. No. drugs, no paraphernalia, no evidence of. dealing or using. Murder, suicide. But. Cherylyn's gun was missing, and the. bodies were 3 mi of rough terrain from. the truck. Now, Bobby's father, he had. an alibi and died 2 months after the.

family vanished. The handyman with white. supremacist ties, was a person of. interest for a while, but nothing. connected him to the disappearance. Cherylyn's mother believed that the. family was pulled into a cult and she. never changed her story. The sheriff who. worked the case said one thing stayed. with him above everything else. Not the. money, not the letter, not the photo of. Madison in the woods. It was the. footage. Bobby and Cherylyn moving. through their house like they were. sleepwalking, loading that truck in. total silence, stopping to stare at.

nothing, then starting again over and. over and over. He said he watched it. more than 100 times and every time it. looked less like a family packing for a. trip and more like robots running a. program. The $32,000 is still in an evidence. locker. The briefcase has never been. found. Cherylyn's gun has never been. found. And nobody's ever explained what. made Bobby and Cherylyn load that truck. like zombies on the last morning of.

their lives. And most likely, nobody. ever will. Gather around. This happened. Marshall, Minnesota, May 14th, 2008. 1:54 a.m. Brandon Swanson called his parents from. the side of a dark road. He was 19 years. old, last day of college. His car was in.

a ditch. He just needed a ride. His. father, Brian, drove out looking for. him. They stayed on the phone for 47. minutes. Brandon saw lights in the. distance. He started walking toward what. he thought was town. Then on the phone. with his father, he said, "Oh." Then the. line went dead and Brandon vanished.

Brandon told his parents he crashed near. Lind, a small town about 7 milesi from. Marshall. That's where his father. searched up and down those roads looking. for a gray Chevy Luminina in a ditch. looking for a son walking along the. road. But he found nothing. At 6:30. a.m., the Swanson's reported Brandon. missing. The officer wasn't concerned. young guy, last day of school, been out. drinking, probably sleeping it off. somewhere. One cop told Annette Swanson.

that her son had a right to be missing. She didn't accept that. She pushed. She. demanded they check the cell records. Well, the records told a different. story. Brandon's last call didn't ping a. tower near Lind. It pinged near Porter, 25 mi in the opposite direction. Brandon. was completely wrong about where he was. He thought he was 7 mi from home. He was. 30 mi away on a gravel road in the. middle of farmland, surrounded by fields. and darkness. No street lights, no.

houses, nothing but flat ground and sky. in every direction. Yellow Medicine County sits in. southwestern Minnesota. It's prairie. land, the kind of place where you can. see headlights from 10 miles away on a. clear night. And in May, the corn hasn't. come up yet. The fields are bare dirt. and stubble. There's nothing to hide. behind. There's nothing to fall into. There's nothing that should swallow a. person home. Police found his car that. afternoon stuck up on an incline near a. bridge on a county road. Doors open, keys gone. Brandon had taken them with.

him when he started walking. The nearest. town was Porter, population 178. But. Brandon never made it. Now think about. that. Brandon grew up in Marshall. He'd. driven these roads his whole life. And. somehow after his car went into the. ditch, he was convinced he was near. Lind, a town he knew. He recognized. nothing around him because there was. nothing to recognize, just gravel and. darkness and the flat line of the. horizon. And here's where it gets. strange. The lights Brandon saw in the.

distance, the one he walked towards, were probably a red beacon on a grain. elevator in Taon, a single light on top. of a tall metal structure, visible for. miles across the flat prairie. Now, from. that distance, through the darkness, it. looked like a town. It looked like. safety. It wasn't. Between Brandon and that light was three. miles of open farmland, the yellow. medicine river, and nothing else. No. roads leading where he was going, no. buildings, just black earth under a. pitch black sky. Brandon walked into the.

night, phone pressed to his ear, convinced he was heading towards. civilization. He was heading into miles. of empty fields. Then he cursed into his. phone. Then the line went dead. Searches started at first light. Helicopters overhead, officers walking. the roads and ditches. Volunteers comb. the fields. They brought in dogs trained.

to track human scent across miles of. open ground. Canine units with hundreds. of successful tracks between them. Dogs. that had found bodies buried under six. feet of soil. The dogs picked up. Brandon's trail near his car and. followed it west northwest along field. roads three miles through darkness, past. barbwire fences and drainage ditches. Then to an abandoned farm, buildings. dark, doors hanging open, no one living. there for years. Then the trail turned. south and followed the Yellow Medicine. River, a shallow waterway that cuts.

through the farmland. Muddy banks, thick. brush on both sides, and Brandon had. mentioned hearing water during his call. He mentioned passing fences. He told his. father the ground was getting uneven and. harder to walk on. The details matched. perfectly. The handlers expected the. trail to end at the river's edge, confirming Brandon fell in and drowned. But the dogs didn't stop. They waited. across the Yellow Medicine River, way. steep in places. The current strong. enough to push against their legs. The.

dogs picked up the scent on the opposite. bank. Brandon had crossed the river in. the dark. He didn't fall in. He didn't. drown. He made it to the other side and. kept walking. The dogs kept going north. along a gravel road until they hit the. yellow Medicine County line. Then the. trail ended. Not at the river, not at a. body. It stopped in the middle of. nowhere. Open farmland, no structures, no landmarks. As if Brandon had been. lifted off the face of the earth. Now, searches continued for years. Every.

spring after snow melt when the frozen. ground thawed and the rivers dropped low. enough to wade. Every fall after harvest. when the fields were cut and you can see. the ground for miles. Volunteers walked in lines across the. prairie. They covered 122 square miles. They walked every inch of the river. They drained ponds. They searched. abandoned farm buildings one by one. Barns with collapsed roofs. Root sellers. filled with standing water. Grain bins. that hadn't been opened in decades. Nothing. No body. No clothes, no phone,

no keys, not a single thread. Brandon. Swanson walked into the darkness that. night and disappeared. The official story is Brandon drowned in. the Yellow Medicine River. Walking in. the dark, disoriented, he stumbled into. the water. And that's the simplest. explanation, but the evidence doesn't. support it. The blood hounds tracked his.

scent across the river, not into it. If. Brandon had drowned, the trail would. have ended at the water's edge, but it. didn't. The dogs picked up his scent on. the opposite bank and kept following it. north. His father talked to him for 47. minutes. Brian Swanson says his son. didn't sound drunk or confused. He. sounded like himself, frustrated about. the car and eager to get home, but. coherent. He was navigating by. landmarks. He was making decisions, not. stumbling blind through the night. And. then there's the final words. Oh, now.

listen to what that phrase is and what. it isn't. It wasn't a scream. It wasn't. a cry for help. It was surprise. The. kind of thing you say when you see. something unexpected. Brandon saw. something in the darkness. He reacted. Then he was gone. Foul play has never been ruled out. The. area is remote. miles of empty farmland, isolated roads, abandoned properties. Someone could have been out there, could. have seen his headlights from the road, watched him crash, and followed him into.

the fields on foot. At 2:30 in the. morning, in that kind of darkness, you. wouldn't see them coming. You wouldn't. hear them over the wind. But there's no. evidence of that. No witnesses, no. suspects, no motive, no DNA, no tire. tracks, no sign of a struggle. Just a. trail that ends in the middle of. nowhere. Brandon's parents never moved. They kept. their porch light on every single night. for years. Annette left his bedroom. exactly the way it was. Bed unmade, clothes on the floor, textbooks stacked. on the desk. She said she wanted it.

ready for when he finally came home. Brian Swanson replayed that phone call. in his head a thousand times. 47 minutes. of his son's voice, the last 47 minutes. anyone heard Brandon alive. He told. reporters the hardest part wasn't the. silence after the swear. It was the 47. minutes before it. The normaly, the. casual frustration of a kid whose car. slid off a road. Father and son talking. like it was any other night, like. everything was going to be fine. The. Swanson's lobby the Minnesota.

government. They testified. They pushed. In 2009, Minnesota passed Brandon's law. Police now have to investigate missing. adults immediately. No more waiting. periods. No more right to be missing. Every state should have that law, but. most don't. Brandon's case was reclassified from. missing person to endangered missing. person, then to suspected homicide, but. no arrest has ever been made, and no. person of interest has never been named. The case file remains open with the. Lincoln County Sheriff's Office. The.

Yellow Medicine River still runs through. that farmland. The grain elevator in. Taton still has its red light. The. gravel roads are still empty at night. And if you drive County Road 10 past at. 2:00 a.m., you'll see exactly what. Brandon saw. Darkness so complete it. swallows your headlights 30 ft ahead. And somewhere out there in the space. between Porter and nowhere is the answer. to what Brandon Swanson saw in the last. moment of his phone call. A surprise. swear and then silence. He's been out.

there almost 18 years and he's still out. there and his family is still waiting. I cover missing person cases a lot on my. show and it's always that period of time. right before they disappear that is the. most interesting to me. To the victim it. was probably just a a regular day. But. we or the family and investigators pick.

apart every single moment of it and we. analyze everything. Was their mood, you. know, different than it normally was? Who did they call? you know, what is. this camera footage actually showing. that is not immediately obvious. Like, we want to know those things. And in. these cases, we actually have the added. benefit of technology. Brian Schaefer. was caught on camera right before he. vanished. The Jamesons, they were seen. on video packing up their car. And. Brandon Swanson, he literally narrated. what he was doing to his dad right up.

until the moment he disappeared. But the. tech also makes us question things even. more, like why were the Jamesons acting. so weird, like where did Brian go? What. did Brandon see? And it just feels like. if anything, this extra information we. have and the ability to actually see and. hear these people before they're gone. makes it all just way too real and way. too easy to relate to. like every trip. we plan or or bar we go to or every.

phone call we make that could be our. last. Which leads me to the next episode. which is quite literally all about. technology showing us horrific things. It exploits us and our attention by. using things that make us scared and. weak. But with media like the internet. and TV, there's also this other part of. it where the audience is everything. And. this series of internet horrors is. incredibly effective at making us wonder. if our attention, our clicks, our views.

actually make us the problem. Gather around. This happened in 2008. A. user on 4chan discovered something on an. unsecured webcam. A feed from Soul, South Korea. A woman's apartment. She. was lying motionless on a thin mat. surrounded by towers of boxes and trash. The 4chan user thought she was dead. Then she moved. The woman sat up, wrote something on a.

whiteboard, and held it to the camera. Broken English. My name is Chipchan. Police officer put Chip in my ankle. He. control my brain. She collapsed back onto the mat. unconscious. 20 hours later, she was. still there. Same position. She hadn't. moved a muscle. The internet had found. its new obsession.

Before the stream, she was normal. Jane, a Korean woman in her 30s who wrote a. blog. She talked about restaurants. She. gave movie reviews. She talked about her. weekend plans, her friends, her job. ordinary life documented in ordinary. ways. Then around 2006, the post. changed. She wrote about footsteps in. the hallway that stopped outside her. door, cars that waited outside her. window. She constantly felt like she was. being watched. She wrote about a police.

officer who kept showing up places she. went, coffee shops, the grocery store, where she worked, always the same man, always watching. She wrote about waking. up exhausted with no memory of falling. asleep. Her apartment was rearranged. Objects moved from their normal places. Windows open that she remembered. closing. She would suddenly be missing. time. She lost hours at a time and had. no idea why. The blog post became. frantic and paranoid. Then they stopped. But 2 years later, she was back. She.

live streamed herself 24 hours a day. from an apartment that looked like a. hoarder's tomb. Boxes stacked to the. ceiling, trash bags lined every wall. The floor was buried under food. containers, empty bottles, and crumpled. paper. Her windows were completely. covered with newspaper and cardboard. No. natural light made it inside. She called him P, a corrupt police. officer who had implanted a Vera chip in. her ankle sometime in the late 1990s. The same technology nightclubs were. using to identify VIP customers. The.

same RFID technology medical facilities. use to store patient data. An implant. about the size of a grain of rice that. could be read by external scanners. These chips are real and they could be. read by scanning equipment passively, meaning you don't have to activate them. They just work. According to Chipchan, her chip was different. P could trigger. it remotely from anywhere in the city. He could force her to go unconscious. with the push of a button. He controlled. exactly when she slept and when she woke. up. She lived entirely within his.

schedule. She was a puppet and P held. the strings. The apartment had three webcams. positioned in the corners. These were. professional setups with good angles and. clear resolution. She installed them. herself to document what happened during. the hours of missing time. She said she. was looking for evidence, proof that P. was controlling her. She wanted to. document the crime. What she created was. a window into hell and the world started. watching. The stream never stopped. The. cameras captured everything. She ate.

ramen noodles with plastic spoons. She. wrote desperate messages on whiteboards. in broken English. She slept in. contorted positions for 18 to 20 hours. straight without moving a muscle. During. these sleep periods, she looked dead. She didn't shift or turn over. She. didn't twitch. You had to concentrate. just to make sure she was breathing. This death-like stillness went on for. almost every day. Early viewers timed. her blackouts with stopwatches. They. created detailed spreadsheets. The. pattern was consistent and unnatural.

She suddenly collapsed into a deep sleep. at the same exact time every day. Then. she woke up at the same time, day in day. out, like she was programmed, like she. was being controlled. Humans don't sleep like this. Even. heavily sedated patients shift position. occasionally, not chip chant. She slept. like she was paralyzed. And every day, people watched. They wanted to help her. expose the corrupt police officer who. was controlling her. Imagine how. surprised they were when the police. showed up.

Thousands of people watched. The stream. spread from 4chan to the rest of the. internet. Viewers formed communities. dedicated to watching her 24 hours a. day. They called themselves the. investigators. They analyzed every frame. of footage. They worked in shifts, documented her health decline with. scientific precision. They set up.

rotation schedules to monitor her. breathing during the 24-hour sleep. periods to make sure she was still. alive. They watched her waist away in. real time. As the months passed, her apartment got. messier. Chipchan got thinner and. thinner. Her clothes hung loose. Bruises. appeared on her arms and legs for no. apparent reason. The dark circles under. her eyes got darker. Her hair became. stringy. She never washed it. Her. writing became shakier, harder to read. But the messages are what frightened.

people the most. They became even more. frantic. Pee watching always. Chip makes. pain in head. Help me please. Nobody. believe. Dedicated viewers in soul. tracked down her address and called the. police. Two officers knocked on her door. Chipchan opened it. She was disheveled. and stunned. Then she panicked. She ranted. She pointed at her ankle. She pointed at the cameras. She showed. them her whiteboards, her messages. She. tried to show them the implant site. She. begged them to scan her ankle for the.

chip. The officers looked around the. apartment, the filth, the chaos, the. bizarre webcam setup, the paranoid. writings that covered every surface. What they saw was a mentally ill woman. living in squalor. And after 5 minutes, they left. Chipchan wrote a new message for the. cameras. Police are PE's friends. They. help him. Viewers were outraged. In real. time, they watched the police completely. dismiss her. People posted angry. comments about Korean mental health. services. They organized more calls to.

the authorities. They started. fundraising campaigns to help her. And. through it all, they never stopped. watching. And something else bothered. her viewers. Technical details that. didn't add up. Sometimes camera angles. shifted while she slept. Not a lot, just. slight adjustments. Better framing, better lighting, cleaner shots of. Chipchan lying unconscious. She was. never awake when the cameras moved and. she was always alone. The cameras were. being operated remotely. Someone was. directing the production, adjusting the.

angles, making sure the global audience. had the best possible view of her. suffering. The investigators debated this. obsessively. Was it P controlling the. cameras along with her mind? Was it. Chipchan herself using automation. software she'd set up during lucid. moments? Or was it something more. disturbing? A third party monetizing her. breakdown. The stream became their daily dose of. tragedy, their mystery to decode, their. community center. They logged on every.

morning to check if she was still. breathing. They posted details when she. shifted position. They celebrated when. she woke up and wrote new messages. People created wikis to document her. sleeping patterns. Others analyzed. timestamps looking for hidden meaning. They turned her isolation into their. connection. Her pain became content. Her. psychological breakdown became. entertainment. Viewers donated money to her PayPal. account. She used it to order food. delivery. The only contact she had with. the outside world. They felt generous,

helpful, like they were participating in. her care. They never realized they were. participating in her destruction. The stream ran for years. Different. platforms, different cameras, different. angles of the same broken woman in the. same filthy apartment. When her stream. crashed, dedicated fans found new. hosting. Whenever she was banned from a.

platform for violating its terms of. service, she would show up somewhere. else. Chipchan's current status is. unknown. The last confirmed sighting was. several years ago. Some say she died. from malnutrition and neglect. Some say. she was finally institutionalized after. a neighbor complained about the smell. Some say she's still there in that. apartment, still broadcasting to. whatever audience remains, still waiting. for someone to save her from PE's. control. The dedicated subreddit still exists. Posts from people claiming to have found.

new streams. Screenshots that might be. her. IP addresses that might lead back. to soul. The investigation never really. ended. It just got quieter. The tragedy. isn't whether the chip actually exists. They do. These are real devices used for. real purposes. But these chips don't. control minds. That technology doesn't. exist. At least not that we know of. The. tragedy is simpler and more universal. Thousands of people watched a woman's. life fall apart. But they enjoyed the. mystery. She wasn't a person to save. She was a puzzle to solve. She was.

content. And we're still doing it every. day. We carry tracking devices in our. pockets. We broadcast our locations to. corporations and governments that aren't. looking out for us. We stream our lives. to strangers who'll never help us. We. invite surveillance into our most. private moments and call it connection. We live in voluntary versions of Chip. Chan's apartment. We just have better. Wi-Fi and cleaner floors. Chipchan was the extreme version of what. we do willingly. She lived totally.

connected yet totally alone. The cameras. never stopped rolling. The audience. never stopped watching. The show never. ended. The archives still exist. Thousands of hours of footage. Screenshots of desperate cries for help. Videos of a woman slowly disappearing. while the world watched. If you search long enough, you'll find. them. You can watch a few minutes and. see what everyone else saw. A woman. sleeping unnaturally still on a thin mat. for hours, writing messages that nobody. answered, begging for help that never. came. But remember, while you're.

watching her, you're not investigating a. mystery. you're participating in one. And the mystery isn't what happened to. Chip Chan. The mystery is why we watch. Gather out. This happened. And leave the. TV off for this one. In 2015, a YouTube.

channel appeared called Local 58. It. looked like recordings from a public. access station out of Mason County, West. Virginia. Call sign WCLVTV. The videos were short, 2 or 3 minutes. each. Weather bulletins, emergency. broadcasts, kid shows, the kind of. programming that aired at 3:00 a.m. on. stations nobody watched. But the broadcast kept getting hijacked. And the hijacked messages all said the. same thing. Don't look at the moon.

The first video is called weather. service. A standard weather alert fills. the screen. White text on a colored. background. The kind of message your. local station runs during a tornado. warning. Then the screen glitches. The. alert changes. Then the words appear, "Do not look at the moon tonight.". The station is trying to warn its. viewers, but something else is taking.

control of the signal. The text. flickers, distorts, and flips. Now, the. message reads, "Look at the moon. His. throne, his crown.". Whatever hijacked that broadcast didn't. just override the warning, it reversed. it. The station tried to protect you. The thing that took over the signal. wanted you outside. The next video is contingency. It opens. with the presidential seal and an. emergency broadcast tone. The voice is.

calm and measured, the kind you'd hear. during a real national crisis. The worst has come to pass. Despite the. sacrifices of our citizens and the might. of our armed forces, the United States. has been forced to surrender to her. enemy. Though they may occupy our. borders, our streets, and our homes, the. enemy will never occupy our spirit. That. is why all Americans are now called up. to act to preserve the memory of the. United States. Clear and bright, untarnished and uncompromised.

>> America has lost a war. A foreign power. controls the country. There is no path. to victory. But the government has one. final plan. It's called the victory. position. The broadcast walks viewers. through it step by step. Lie face down. on American soil. Press your body to the. earth. Place your hands behind your. head. Close your eyes. The instructions. are precise. The tone is reassuring. They tell you this is your duty as a. citizen. They tell you the pain will be. brief. They tell you this is how you.

win. It takes a few seconds to register. The. government is telling its citizens to. kill themselves and it's framing suicide. as patriotism. The broadcast ends with a. waving flag and the words, "Victory is. yours, America." The national anthem. plays over footage of rolling hills and. farmland. And the delivery is so. convincing that your body responds. before your brain catches up. Your pulse. rises, your hands go cold because you've.

heard that tone before. Every tornado. warning, every Amber Alert, every. emergency broadcast you've ever. received, use that exact voice. Calm, authoritative, trustworthy. The voice. that says, "Do what we tell you and. you'll be safe.". In January 2018, about a year later, every phone in Hawaii received an. emergency alert. Ballistic missile. inbound. Seek immediate shelter. This is. not a drill. >> Oh gosh. What happened? Holy crap. Did.

something happen? >> It says this is not a drill. >> Missile threat inbound to Hawaii. Seek. immediate shelter. This is not a drill. >> They called a nuclear bomb strike on us. and I'll try and keep you updated on. what happened. Let's go, Dad. >> They're not going to tell us. >> But we need to know like people. vacationing out here. >> Oh, man. Okay. >> This ain't no joke. >> If you're watching this video, that. means I didn't make it. cuz of the missile that's coming towards.

Hawaii. >> I had a good life. >> For 38 minutes, people believed it. Some. said goodbye to their families. Some hid. their children in storm drains. >> It was a false alarm. An employee. clicked the wrong button on a computer. But for 38 minutes, a million people. obeyed a message on a screen without. question. But contingency was just the.

beginning. The next broadcast didn't. just tell you to go outside. They showed. you what happens to the people who do. The next video is called You Are On the. Fastest Available Route. Dash cam. footage. Someone driving at night. A GPS. voice gives directions. Turn left. Continue straight. The road gets darker. The turns stop making sense. The GPS.

tells the driver to follow signs for do. not enter. It tells them to turn off. their headlights. The driver does it. every time. The driver obeys. The road. disappears into trees. In the final. frame, a single flash of light. There's. a figure standing in the woods. >> You have arrived.

>> Not a person. Something taller, thinner, standing perfectly still between the. trees. Then there's real sleep. It looked like. a sleep aid program from the early 80s. Soft music, a calm voice telling you to. relax. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. The screen shows gentle patterns. Your. eyes get heavy. And that's the point. Then the instructions change. Stand up. Walk to the door. Open it. Step outside. Look at the sky. The voice never changes.

pitch. Never gets urgent. It guides you. outside the way a meditation app guides. you through breathing exercises. And. behind the text on screen, almost too. faint to notice on first viewing, there. are faces, distorted, stretched, watching from behind the broadcast. Thousands of viewers didn't notice the. faces until their third or fourth time. through the video. They went back and. checked. The faces were there from the. first frame, watching the whole time.

Skywatching starts as an astronomy. program. A cheerful host points out. constellations. Then the footage cuts to a field at. night. No crickets, no wind. Dozens of. people standing completely still. Heads. tilted back at the same angle. Nobody. moves. Nobody speaks. They're all. staring at the same point in the sky. Viewers who went frame by frame found. something above the field. A shape in. the sky barely visible looking down at.

the people who are looking back. Nobody. knows why. Show for children opens with a cartoon. skeleton named Cadaavver doing a little. dance. Silly music plays. It looks like. an 80s kid show. Then the moon rises in. the cartoon. The skeleton stops dancing. The animation shifts from cartoon to. photorealistic. A real human skeleton. fills the screen. The music is gone. What replaces it is the music.

The pattern across every video is the. same. Weather alerts, government. broadcasts, GPS navigation, sleep. programs, children's shows. Every system. designed to keep you safe has been.

turned into a weapon. And every one of. them is trying to get you to do the same. thing. Go outside, look up, and the. people who do, the ones in the field, the ones following the GPS, the ones. lying face down in the victory position, they don't come back the same. And some. of them don't come back at all. One person made all of this, a. cartoonist named Chris Stra. He made the.

first video, Weather Service, in 2015. using iMovie, posted it on a shared. YouTube channel nobody was watching. It. got a few thousand views and sat there. 2 years later, he created the dedicated. Local 58 channel and started uploading. the rest. Seven videos over 8 years. The. longest, a 30inut piece called CL O E. came in 2023 with an alternate reality. game attached. A real website local58.tv. filled with hidden messages and coded. transmissions, fragments of a story that.

had been building since the first. upload. No behind the scenes, no. interviews explaining the lore. Stra. never broke character. The channel. exists the way a real hijack TV station. would. The broadcasts are there, but. nobody's explaining them. Before Local 58, there was no name for. this kind of horror. Creepy VHS style. videos existed, but nobody had put. together the broadcast format, the. institutional authority, and the slow. corruption of trusted systems into a. single concept. After Local 58, there.

was a name, analog horror, the Mandela. Catalog, Gemini Home Entertainment, Monument Mythos, The Back Rooms. Dozens. of channels, hundreds of videos, millions of views. All of it traces back. to one cartoonist who made a fake. weather bulletin on iMovie and told you. not to look at the moon. But here's the. part nobody talks about. Shrab also. wrote a creepy pasta called Candle Cove, a forum thread about a kids TV show that. never existed, broadcast at a local. station nobody could find records of. The puppets had human teeth. The show.

aired screaming and static and the. station that broadcast it was called. WLV, the same call letters as Local 58. Candle Cove. C N DL E C O V E W C LB. Strava also created a web comic called. Brood Hollow. Set in a town where. reality is thin and something ancient. watches from the edges. One of its. characters, a skeleton named Cadaavver, is the same skeleton that dances in. Local 58's show for children. The same. skeleton that stops dancing when the.

moon comes up. Broad Hollow, Candle Cove, Local 58. all. set in or around the same fictional town. in West Virginia, all connected to the. same thing. Stra has never explained. what it means. The channel has over half. a million subscribers and 20 million. views. The website is still live. The. signal is still broadcasting. And if. you're watching this late at night, alone in the dark, don't look out the. window. Not because something is out. there, because some part of you trained. by a lifetime of obeying screens might.

actually do what the broadcast tells. you. Why are you still watching this? Gather out. This happened in 2015. A. tech blogger in Sweden opened his mail.

Inside was an envelope. No return. address. It was postmarked from Poland. It held a DVD. He figured it was software someone. wanted him to review. He grabbed a spare. laptop, the kind you use when you don't. trust what you're about to run. There. was no software, just a 2-minute black. and white video of a figure in a plague. doctor mask standing in a ruined. building holding up one hand with a. blinking light in its palm. The audio underneath was a voice. repeating the same phrase, "I would love.

to kill you." He posted it online and. asked for help. And the internet. answered. The video had 700,000 views within a. week. Thousands of amateur. cryptographers, puzzle solvers, and. horror fans picked apart every frame.

The footage showed a figure standing. inside a crumbling building. Through two. holes in a brick wall, trees swayed in. the wind. Graffiti covered the walls. Debris littered the floor. The figure. wore a long dark cloak with a hood. pulled up. On its face was a plague. doctor mask, long leather beak curved. downward, round black goggles, the kind. of mask doctors wore during the Black. Death, stuffed with herbs because it hid. the smell. A costume designed to visit. the dying. The figure raised one hand, palm out. A.

light blinked in the center of its palm. Irregular pulses, not Morse code. The. audio was almost unbearable. Distorted. buzzing electronic screaming. At the. end, the figure pointed directly at the. camera. People analyzed the hand signals. Three. fingers, then one, then two. They pulled. apart the metadata. They ran the audio. through spectrogram software, a tool. that turns sound into visual image, showing frequencies the human ear can't. hear. Spectrogram showed a skull and. underneath the skull encoded text. But.

that wasn't the worst part. Hidden in. the audio frequencies were photographs, not glitches that look like faces. Actual images deliberately encoded into. the sound. Women's bodies, mutilation, closeup of wounds. One image matched a. crime scene photo from the Boston. Strangler case, Albert Salvo's victims. from the 1960s. Another came from a German exploitation. film called Slasher. A third was from. The Bunny Game, a horror movie so. extreme it was banned in the UK.

Real murder victims mixed with stills. from banned films. All of it buried in. frequencies only machines could read. And the deeper people dug, the worse it. got. The video was packed with coded. messages, different ciphers, different. encryption methods, different languages. The title 11bx1371. came from a hidden code, a base 64. string on the DVD's menu screen, and. binary code in the YouTube description. decoded to death in Spanish.

The description also read uno anos, you. have one less year. a geometric symbol. near the end of the video, a box divided. into triangles. This turned out to be. pig pen cipher, which uses geometric. symbols to represent letters of the. alphabet decoded. It read homminus, Latin for to attack men. More text. buried in the spectrogram. You are. already dead. Then a longer message. The.

eagle equals infected will spread his. disease. We are the antivirus. We will. protect the world body. and strike an. arrow through the heart of the eagle, the American eagle. The number 1371 in the title matched the. year of major plague outbreaks in. medieval Europe. The plague doctor. costume, the messages about disease, about infection, about targeting. America. People started talking about. bioteterrorism. Forums debated whether. to alert the FBI. The Washington Post.

ran a piece. Gizmodo, Slate, everyone. wanted to know the same thing. Whether. this was a manifesto, a threat, or the. work of a killer documenting his crimes, the light blinking in the plague. doctor's palm looked like a countdown. Then someone identified the building. A Polish internet user recognized the.

windows and the graffiti. The video was. filmed inside. Sophiefka Sanatorium, an. abandoned psychiatric hospital outside. Warsaw in a town called Otwick. The. building had a history that made. everything worse. Sophufka opened in. 1908. A group of Polish Jewish doctors. raised money to build a mental health. facility for Jewish patients. They. called their organization the Society of. Poor Jews with nervous and mental. illnesses. By 1935, the sanatorium had. 275 beds. It was built as a place to.

heal people. Then the Nazis came. In 1940, Zovfka fell inside the Otwalk. ghetto. Nearly 400 patients started. starving. The Germans weren't going to. waste resources on people they planned. to kill anyway. On August 19th, 1942, German soldiers and Ukrainian guards. rounded up all the patients and staff. into the first pavilion. They shot. between 100 and 140 people where they. stood. The survivors along with the. entire Jewish population, about 7,000. people, were loaded into trains. A few.

doctors tried to escape by ambulance. Most didn't make it. Some staff chose. suicide over the camps. The sanatorium. never reopened. The buildings were left. to rot. Out of every abandoned building. in Poland, someone chose this one. They. dressed as a plague doctor, a figure. from the era of the Black Death, a. costume designed to visit the dying, and. filmed a video about disease and killing. in a building where patients were. executed. The graffiti in the video wasn't present. in the photos of the room taken November.

2013. The video was made sometime. between then and its upload in May 2015. Someone spent months planning this, building the costume, encoding the. images, layering the ciphers, and the. video had been online longer than anyone. realized. Before the DVD arrived in. Sweden, before the blog posts, a YouTube. account called AETBX had uploaded it on. May 9th, 2015. The account had no other. content. When reporters tracked down the. user, he said his name was Daniel. He. was from Spain, and a girl he didn't.

know had emailed him the video after. finding it on a park bench. Nobody could explain AETBX. Nobody could. explain the DVD. The video had appeared. on 4chan's paranormal board even before. the YouTube upload. Someone was seeding. copies across the internet through. channels nobody could trace. discs in. subway stations, files on park benches, anonymous uploads on obscure forums. The. mystery had layers inside layers. Every. answer opened a new door. Then someone.

decided to walk through one. In late November 2015, a Twitter account. appeared under the name Parker Warner. Wright. The owner claimed to have made. the video. Other people were making the. same claim at the same time. But Wright. did something none of them could. On New. Year's Eve, he uploaded a sequel 11B. 31369.

Same plague doctor, same sanatorium, same style, new ciphers. The figure appeared outside in the. forest first, then inside the building. Later in the video, a woman in a white. dress with bandages covering her face. joined the plague doctor. 3 weeks later, the Daily Doc published an interview. Wright said he was an American living in. Poland. The videos were an art project, an elaborate cryptographic puzzle. He'd. left copies on discs hidden in a Warsaw. subway station and a park and posted an.

early version to 4chan's paranormal. board. The Swedish blogger got his DVD. because he'd handed Wright a business. card at a tech convention. Wright said. he had built the plague doctor mask. himself from scratch. He challenged. anyone to make an exact copy and nobody. ever did. In April 2019, a third video appeared. 11B451T8. More ciphers, more encoded messages. The. project had been running for 4 years. An. IMDb listing credited a second person,

someone named Amir Yakamos. Nobody has. ever identified who that is. Wright hid. eight USB drives around Warsaw with GPS. coordinates for his followers to find. Each one held encrypted bonus content. His last known video, The Trigger, appeared in 2021. His YouTube channel. still exists. Wright never showed his. face, not once. He communicated only. through text, social media posts, emails. to reporters, encrypted messages to. followers. An American living in Poland wearing a.

handmade mask no one could copy. filming. inside buildings where people were. murdered, encoding crime scene photos. into sound frequencies. He called it. art. He spent months designing the. costume, encoding photographs of real. murder victims into audio, and layering. ciphers in three languages across every. frame. He chose a building where Nazi. soldiers executed psychiatric patients. He mailed anonymous DVDs across. international borders to a stranger in. another country. Art. The Swedish. blogger eventually accepted Wright's.

story. The costume details matched. between videos. The cipher style was. consistent. The mask challenge went. unanswered. Wright was almost certainly. the creator. But knowing who made it. doesn't make it less disturbing. The. spectrogram images are still there. Every time someone plays the video, the. audio carries photographs of real. victims encoded in frequencies the ear. can't hear, but software can see. Two. minutes of a plague doctor staring at. the camera in a room where patients were. shot. The families of the people in.

those spectrograms were never contacted, never told their loved ones crime scene. photos were buried in the sound of an. anonymous internet video. The video is. still on YouTube. You can watch it right. now. 2 minutes black and white, a. blinking light. And in the frequencies. underneath, the dead are still there. just waiting for someone like you to. look. So, I'd assume since you're all here. that like me, you are present on the.

internet or enjoy, you know, consuming. content to some degree. And AJ pretty. much nailed it when he pointed out that. the reason all these things become so. problematic and terrifying was because. of us, the viewers, and our clicks and. our eyeballs. you know, feeding each of. these things to the point where they. became almost frenzied and took on a. life of their own. And if you think. about it, it makes going online or. turning on the TV sort of like a risk. Something we do every single day is.

literally dangerous. Not just because of. what we might see or who might see us, but because of what we might. inadvertently do. Next, AJ's going to. tell you about three cases where the. first impression of a situation is not. at all what it seems to be. And I'll. spoil it now, but one of them involves. arguably the second most famous hotel of. all time.

Gather around. This happened in March. 1922. A farmer in Bavaria walked outside. and found footprints in the snow. They. came from the edge of the forest and led. straight to his farmhouse. He followed. them all the way to his door. Then he. looked for tracks leading back. There. were none. Someone had walked out of the. woods, come to his home, and never left. Andreas Gruber told his neighbors about. the footprints. He told them about the. strange sounds in his attic at night. A. newspaper nobody ordered. A set of keys.

that didn't belong to anyone in the. family. One neighbor offered him a gun. He turned it down. 4 days later, everyone in his house was dead. Hinderky is about an hour north of. Munich at the end of a dirt road that. cut through dense forest. The name means. behind Kyik, a tiny hamlet nearby. The. farm was past the last house, past the.

last field, deep in the woods where the. road ended, isolated. Andreas Gruber lived there with his. wife, Cazilia, their widow daughter, Victoria, and Victoria's two children, 7-year-old also named Cazilia, and. 2-year-old Yseph. The family kept to. themselves. Most of the people in the. area avoided the place entirely. Andreas. had been convicted of incest with his. daughter Victoria in 1915. He served a. year in prison. When Victoria gave birth. to Ysef in 1919, the paternity was an.

open secret in the village. The family's. maid quit 6 months before the murders. She told people the farmhouse was. haunted. Footsteps were heard in the. attic constantly. There was a feeling of. being watched. She left and didn't come. back. For 6 months, the family had no maid. Nobody in the village wanted the job. Then in early March, things got worse. Andreas found a broken lock on the. machine room door. He searched the attic. after hearing footsteps in the middle of. the night. He found nothing, but the. sounds continued. The night before the.

murders, Victoria left the farmhouse. after a violent fight with Andreas. She. was found hours later in the forest and. came back to the farm. On March 31st, a. new maid finally arrived. Her name was. Maria Boundartner. She was 44 years old. from the next town over. Her sister. walked her to the farm that afternoon, helped her settle in, and left before. dark. Maria's sister didn't know about. the footprints. She didn't know about. the attic. She didn't know about any of. it. But she was the last outsider to see. anyone at that farm alive.

That evening, the family was lured to. the barn one at a time. Andreas went. first, then his wife Cazilia, then. Victoria, then 7-year-old Cazilia. One. by one, they walked in, and one by one, they were hit with a pickaxe. Each. victim was hit in the head, but it. wasn't sloppy. The blows were precise. and measured. Whoever swung that axe. knew what they were doing.

The tool itself was unusual. Andreas had. built it himself. He tied an iron blade. around a handle and secured everything. with bolts. And at the end, a single. bolt that stuck out an inch and a half. past the blade. He used it for killing. pigs. Someone used it on his family. The older Cazilia showed signs of. strangulation along with seven blows to. the skull. Victoria's skull had nine. wounds. Andrea's face was. unrecognizable. His cheekbones were. exposed through torn skin, and.

7-year-old Cazilia's jaw was shattered. The four bodies were stacked in the barn. and covered with hay. The killer then. crossed the yard to the house. 2-year-old Ysef was asleep in his crib. in Victoria's room. He was killed by a. single blow to the face. Maria was in. her room on her first night at a new job. at a new farm. She was killed in her. bed, multiple blows to her head. Both bodies recovered. Maria with her. bed sheets and Yseph with one of his. mother's dresses. Six people dead, one. weapon, one brutal night. But the killer.

didn't leave. For the next several days, someone lived in the Gruber farmhouse. with six dead bodies. They even fed the. cattle. They ate the family's food. They. kept a fire burning in the fireplace. Smoke rose from the chimney. Neighbors. saw it from a distance. They assumed the. groupers were going about their usual. routine. They had no idea the farm was a. blood bath.

At 3:00 in the morning on April 1st, the. night of the murders, a local farmer. walked home past the forest by Hindky. He saw two figures standing at the. treeine. When they noticed him, they. turned away. The next day, two coffee. sellers showed up to take an order. Nobody answered the door. 7-year-old. Cazilia didn't show up for school. She. missed the next day, too. Victoria. missed choir practice on Sunday. She. never missed choir. The following night, another man walked past the farm. He saw.

smoke coming from the oven. Someone came. out of the house and aimed a lantern. directly in his face, blinding him. He. said the smoke smelled foul. Nobody ever. investigated what was really burning in. that oven. Mail piled up at the post. office. A mechanic came on April 4th to. fix an engine. He waited an hour. Nobody. showed. He did the repair alone and left. after 4 and 1/2 hours. He never saw or. heard anyone. That afternoon, a local. farmer named Lawrence Schlittenbower. sent his teenage son and young stepson.

to check on the family. Schlittenbower. had been involved with Victoria. He. claimed to be Yos's father. There was. bad blood between the families. The boys. came back and said they hadn't seen a. soul. So, Schlittenbower brought two. neighbors and went to see for himself. They found all the doors locked. They. broke through a gate to reach the barn. Inside, under the hay, they found four. bodies. The two neighbors stopped. Schlittenbower didn't. He walked. straight to the front door of the house. and unlocked it. For some reason, he had. a key.

He went inside alone. Four bodies in the. barn. A killer unaccounted for. And. Schlintenbower walked into that house. like he knew exactly what he'd find. Over the next few years, Schlittenbower. said things about the murders that only. one person could know. 7-year-old Cazilia survived for hours. after the attack. She lay in the hay.

next to the bodies of her mother and. grandparents in the dark. She tore out. her own hair and clumps. By the time investigators arrived from. Munich, 45 mi away, dozens of locals had. already walked through the crime scene. They'd moved bodies. Somebody had cooked. a meal in the kitchen. The scene was. contaminated before the investigation. started. The autopsies were performed in. the farmhouse courtyard. Each body. carried out from the barn one at a time. Police ruled out robbery. A large amount. of cash was found untouched. Nothing was. missing. One theory was that the victims.

had been drawn to the barn by restless. livestock, but noise from the barn. couldn't be heard from inside the house. Someone made them go. Schlittenbower was. the primary suspect. He lived nearby. He. knew the property. He'd been involved. with Victoria. The people with him. during the discovery said he was too. calm. And when asked why he entered the. house alone with a potential killer. still inside, he said he went to look. for Yseph. These answers were odd, but. there was no physical evidence tying him. to the crime. Over the years, Schlintenbower made.

comments that raised suspicion, details. only the killer would know. In 1925, a. local teacher found Schlittenbower at. the demolished farm site. When asked. what he was doing there, he said the. killer's attempt to bury the bodies had. been stopped by the frozen ground. Nobody asked him about burning the. bodies. Nobody told him the ground was. frozen. Over a 100 suspects were. investigated. Even Carl Gabriel, Victoria's dead husband. He'd gone off. to fight in the First World War. He was. reported killed at the Battle of Aris in. 1914. His body was never recovered. After the Second World War, German.

prisoners released from Soviet captivity. claimed a German-speaking Soviet officer. had told them he was the Hindka killer. The lead went nowhere like all the. others. There were six bodies, but no. suspects. In 1955, after over 30 years. of dead ends, the case was finally. closed.

Less than a year after the murders, the. farm was torn down. During demolition, workers found something in the attic. A. second pickaxe covered in dried blood. They'd found a pen knife buried in the. hay. Evidence missed by every. investigator who walked through. The. hiding spots weren't random. The axe was. hidden in a space above the kitchen with. a false wall. You'd have to know the. farmhouse well to know that space. existed. The skulls of all six victims had been. removed during the autopsies and sent to. Munich for study. Somewhere during World.

War II, the skulls disappeared. The key. physical evidence in Germany's most. famous unsolved murder gone. In 1927, 5. years after the murders, a stranger. stopped a man on the road nearby. He. asked questions about the killings. Then. he announced loudly that he was the. murderer and he ran into the forest. He. was never identified. In 2007, police academy students. reopened the case as a forensic. exercise. They landed on a name, but.

living relatives threatened legal. action. The name has never been. released. 103 years later, the case is still open. and a family is buried together in a. plot. Six bodies without their heads. Six people still waiting for justice.

Gather around. This happened in February. 1994. Riverside General Hospital. The ER was. quiet until paramedics burst through the. doors with Gloria Ramirez. She was still. conscious, but she was dying. Doctors swarmed her. They thought it was. a standard procedure until they could. open her shirt. An oily sheen covered.

her skin. It smelled like garlic. Not. the smell of food. Something sharper, almost metallic. A nurse drew blood and. the stench of ammonia hit the room. Then. she saw something in the vial. Tiny tan. colored crystals floating in Gloria's. blood. The nurse was confused. She. looked up to speak. Then her eyes rolled. back and she hit the floor. Then it started to spread.

It started with the nurse who drew the. blood. She collapsed mid-sentence. Her. face hit the floor before anyone could. catch her. Dr. Julie Gorchinsky, the. medical resident, knelt down to help. She thought the nurse had a panic. attack, maybe stress, or maybe she. skipped lunch. She went to check the. nurse's pulse, and that's when she felt. it. Heat was coming off of Gloria's. body. Not fever heat, chemical heat, the.

kind that burns your nostrils before it. reaches your lungs. Dr. Kchinsk's throat. started to close up. Her chest was. tightening like there was a hand around. her throat. And she knew what was in. that air. Whatever killed Gloria was. still in the room. She tried to stand, tried to back away from the gurnie, but. her legs gave out. She couldn't feel her. feet. She made it three steps toward the. nurse's station. Then she collapsed and. started seizing on the floor. The respiratory therapist was next. She. bagged the patient, squeezed air into.

Gloria's lungs, then her arms started. tingling, then numbness in her chest, then nothing. She dropped where she. stood. A few minutes in, the trauma room. looked like a battlefield. Staff. collapsed one by one, some unconscious, some convulsing, some crawling toward. the door on their hands and knees. Nurses who stayed upright dragged the. fallen ones toward the exit. Their own. legs went numb a few feet in. They. dropped their colleagues and then. started to crawl. Pagers went off unanswered. Monitors.

screamed on empty beds. The air turned. into poison. It didn't smell like a. hospital anymore. It smelled like a. chemical plant. The garlic hit first, then the ammonia, sharp enough to make. your eyes water and your throat close. up. The ER director knew what was. happening. This was a mass casualty. event. But the casualties weren't. patients. They were his own staff. He. grabbed the wall to stay upright. His. own lungs started to burn. He made a. call to evacuate. Nurses wheeled gurnies.

into the parking lot. IV bags were. swinging from poles and patients with. broken bones, chest pains, lacerations. went out into the cold February night. Someone called 911 on the hospital. The. hospital went into lockdown and the. staff sealed trauma room 1 with plastic. sheeting and duct tape. They made it a. containment zone. Inside, a skeleton. crew stayed with Gloria. They wore full. hazmat gear, protective suits, respirators, face shields. They look. like astronauts. From the other side of.

the plastic sheeting, the rest of the. hospital just watched. Doctors in. scrubs, patients in gowns, nurses frozen. in the hallway. All of them at a safe. distance, watching their co-workers die. One nurse prayed. Patients were crying, but nobody moved closer. The crew inside. the sheeting worked on Gloria. They. pushed drugs into her body. They tried. to restart her heart, but the poison. worked too fast. 45 minutes after she. arrived, Gloria Ramirez was dead. And.

whatever poisoned that room was still. there. The parking lot became a decontamination. zone. Staff stripped off their scrubs. and stood shivering in the dark while. firefighters hosed them down, bagged. their clothes as hazardous waste, and. they scrubbed their skin with chemical.

neutralizers. It looked like a nerve gas. response. 23 people reported symptoms. that night. Five went to intensive care. Dr. Julie Kchinsky suffered the worst. She spent two weeks in the ICU. Her body. shut down piece by piece. She developed. hepatitis. Her pancreas shut down. She. couldn't hold a fork to eat. But the. worst damage was inside her bones. Doctors called it avascular necrosis. Her bone marrow died. The tissue that. produces blood cells rotted from the. inside out.

Whatever came out of Gloria's blood was. potent enough to destroy tissue cell by. cell. The Riverside County Coroner's. office was terrified. They had a body. that was a biological weapon and no idea. what made it dangerous. They refused to. perform a standard autopsy. Instead, they called in specialists and built a. sealed examination chamber. Three pathologists suited up in airtight. hazmat gear and entered the chamber. They moved slowly, carefully, taking. samples of everything. Blood, bile, lung.

tissue, liver, kidneys. Every sample. went into a sealed container, every. container into a sealed box. One of the. pathologists later said he held his. breath the whole time. The air in the. chamber felt thick. They expected to. find something obvious, a pesticide, an. industrial solvent, or a drug overdose. something that explained how one woman's. blood could take down an entire ER. They. ran every toxicology test available. The. results came back clean. No poisons, no.

heavy metals, no chemical weapons, no. illegal drugs, just normal therapeutic. levels of Tylenol and lidocaine, standard medications for someone in her. condition. The county didn't know what. to tell the public. They didn't have any. answers. So, they lied. They held a. press conference and announced that the. hospital staff suffered from mass. hysteria. They said the garlic smell was. from medical equipment. They said the. nurses fainted from stress and the. others followed suit. A psychological.

chain reaction. The medical staff was. furious. Mass hysteria doesn't cause. seizures. Stress doesn't cause bone. marrow necrosis. Panic attacks don't. land five people in intensive care for. weeks. They knew what they experienced. They smelled the chemicals. They saw the. crystals in the blood. They felt their. lungs burning. Several of the staff from. that night on never worked in an ER. again. Some developed chronic health problems. A few left medicine altogether. Then.

there was the investigator. The county. coroner's office assigned their top. investigator to the case. She was good. at her job, sharp, thorough. One month. into the investigation, she killed. herself. Her boss said she may have been under. pressure from the case. He didn't say. what kind of pressure. Meanwhile, Gloria's family demanded answers. They. hired a private pathologist to do their. own autopsy. When he arrived at the. morg, the county refused to release the. body. They said she was too dangerous to. handle. For 2 months, Gloria Ramirez lay.

in a deep freeze while lawyers argued. over her remains. When they finally. released her, they took no chances. She. didn't get a standard coffin. They. placed her body in a sealed aluminum. container and welded it shut. They told. the family to never open it. Not ever. Then they buried her body deep. underground just like they do with. radioactive waste.

Gloria had cervical cancer. She lived in. constant pain. Investigators traced it. to dimethyl suloxide, a solvent people. put on their skin in the '90s as a home. painkiller. When paramedics gave her. oxygen in the ambulance, the DMSO. reacted. It converted into dimethyl. sulfo. Dimethyl sulfone crystallizes at. room temperature, the same beige. crystals the nurse saw in the vial. Then. the defibrillator shocks converted it.

again into dimethyl sulfate, a compound. used in chemical warfare that destroys. cells on contact and smells like garlic. Even trace amounts can be fatal. Scientists at Lawrence Liverour tried to. recreate the reaction in a lab. They. couldn't. Nobody ever did. They tried. every combination of temperature, pressure, and chemistry they can think. of. The quantities involved made no. sense. far more DMSO than anyone would. smear on their skin for pain relief. The.

math never worked. The reaction that. killed Gloria Ramirez only happened. once, that one time. The case went into. textbooks as an unsolved toxicology. puzzle. And 30 years later, nobody has. an answer. The physical evidence is. gone. They destroyed the blood samples. The syringe with the crystals got thrown. away. And the body is buried deep. underground. Gloria Ramirez entered. history as the toxic lady, a medical. curiosity, a cautionary tale. But she.

was more than that. She was a mother of. two. She went to the hospital because. she was scared and in pain. She went. there for help. Instead, she became a. biohazard. The hospital is still there. It changed its name, but the building. stands. The ER is still open. Trauma. room 1 is still in use. Patients come in. with broken bones and chest pains and. lacerations just like they did back. then, and nurses wheel them right. through that very same door. Most of the. staff from 1994 have moved on. A few. veterans remain. Nurses and technicians.

who work that night, who remember what. happened, who never got the answers. They still work their shifts. They still. walk those halls. But they don't use. trauma room 1 for the sickest patients. anymore. They say it doesn't feel right. The aluminum container is still buried. deep under Riverside. Nobody's ever. broken the seal. Gloria's family never. asked and the county never offered. Whatever's left of her, whatever made. her body a weapon that night, it's still. down there. And nobody is brave enough.

to find out why. Gather around. This happened on January. 31st, 2013. A security camera inside an. elevator at the Cecil Hotel in Los. Angeles recorded 2 and 1/2 minutes of.

footage that still hasn't been. explained. A 21-year-old woman steps. inside. She presses every button on the. panel, every single one. Then she backs. into the corner and waits. The doors. don't close. She leans out, looks both. ways down the hallway, and ducks back. in. She steps out and begins talking to. someone, her hands moving in strange. gestures like she's explaining something. urgent to a person who isn't there. She. backs away slowly, then disappears down. the hallway. The elevator doors close, then open, close again. No one is there.

19 days later, hotel guests started. complaining that their water tasted. sweet. The Cecil Hotel opened on December 20th, 1924 on South Main Street in downtown. LA. 700 rooms, marble lobby, crystal. chandeliers, built for traveling.

businessmen and tourists. Good evening. >> Within 5 years, the stock market crashed. and the Great Depression turned the. neighborhood into Skid Row. The Cecil. became a flop house. cheap rooms and. drifters, a place where people went when. they had nowhere else to go. The deaths. started almost immediately. In the 1930s. alone, six people jumped from the upper. floors. A soldier fell from the top of. the building. A telephone worker. swallowed cyanide inside his room. In. 1944, a teenage mother gave birth on one. of the upper floors and threw the baby.

from the window. In 1962, a woman jumped from the ninth. floor. She landed on someone walking. past the hotel. Both died on impact. In. 1964, a retired telephone operator named. Goldie Ozgood was found dead in her. room. She'd been raped, stabbed, and. beaten. A suspect was picked up walking. nearby in bloody clothes, but released. Nobody was ever charged. Then the serial. killers moved in. In 1985, Richard Ramirez rented a room. on the top floor for $14 a night. The.

Nightstalker. He killed at least 13. people across LA that summer. home. invasions, sexual assaults, mutilations. After each murder, he'd come back to the. Cecil in the middle of the night, strip. off his bloody clothes in the alley, and. walk through the lobby in his underwear. The other residents saw him. Nobody. called the police. At the Cecil, you. minded your own business. 6 years later, an Austrian journalist named Jack. Undergar checked into the Cecil Hotel. He said he was writing about. prostitution in LA for an Austrian. magazine. He was charming. He even.

convinced the LAPD to let him ride along. with vice cops. The police had no idea. they were taking Underveggger on. scouting trips. Undergar had already. served 15 years in an Austrian prison. for strangling an 18-year-old girl with. her own bra. He was finally released. He. said he was a changed man, but the only. thing that changed was his address. He. strangled three women in his room at the. Cecil. Same method every time. The hotel. earned a nickname, Hotel Death. Then in. 2013, a 21-year-old college student from.

Vancouver checked in. Alyssa Lamb was a student, the daughter. of immigrants from Hong Kong. She was. outgoing. She had a blog where she wrote. about fashion and life. She called her. parents every single day. On January. 26th, she checked into the Cecil, recently rebranded as Stay on Maine. The. hotel wanted to attract younger.

travelers who wouldn't Google the. building's history, and it worked. The. Cecil may have had a new name, but it. still had the same hallways, the same. walls, and the same dark history. Alyssa was on a budget, so she was. assigned a room with a few other. students. But within 2 days, her. roommates asked to have her moved. She. was leaving notes on their pillows, go. home, go away. She would lock her. roommates out of the room, then ask them. for a password to be let back in. The. hotel moved her to her own room. Alyssa. was on five medications to treat bipolar.

disorder. If she stopped taking her. meds, she would have episodes. A few. days before she disappeared, she went to. a live taping of Conan in Burbank. Security removed her for disruptive. behavior. On January 31st, the day she was. supposed to check out, her parents. didn't hear from her. They called the. police. They flew to LA. Police searched. the hotel with dogs. They went through. the hallways, the stairwells, the roof. Nothing. The manager of a local. bookstore was the only person who. remembered seeing Alyssa that day. She. was friendly, talkative, buying gifts.

for her family. Nobody else saw her. leave the building. Two weeks later, the. LAPD released the elevator footage. The. video went viral. News outlets around. the world picked it up. This. surveillance video shows the UBC student. acting strangely the night she went. missing. Hips. Now, let's take a look at. the footage that is by all accounts. quite bizarre. It shows 21-year-old. Alisa Lamb acting erratically, getting. into an elevator and pressing several. buttons. At one point, she appears to. hide and also gets in and out of that.

elevator a number of times, but then the. video takes a strange turn. She punches. all of the buttons on the control panel, then waits. She steps in and out several. times. She even appears to be gesturing. in the hallway, although it's not clear. if someone is there or not. >> Death. This, take a look, is 21-year-old. Alisa Lamb riding an elevator at the. Cecil Hotel in Los Angeles. So, she. peers out the doors, runs back in, and. then presses several buttons. Strange. behavior, but what happened afterward is. even more bizarre.

For 19 days after that footage was. recorded, the Cecil kept operating. Guests checked in and checked out. They. slept in their rooms. They brushed their. teeth. They drank from the tap. Then the. complaint started. Low water pressure, water coming out of faucets dark, almost. black. Guests said it tasted strange. Some said sweet, others said it smelled. like something organic. On the morning. of February 19th, a maintenance worker. climbed to the roof to check the water. supply. The Cecil had four large tanks up there,

each holding 1,000 gallons. He found one. of the hatches open. He looked inside. Alyssa Lamb was floating face up in the. water. She was naked. Her clothes. floated next to her, the same outfit. from the elevator video, coated in sandy. residue. Her watch and room key floated. nearby. Her body had started to. decompose. She'd been in the water tank. for 19 days. The Cecil had about 600. guests during that period. Every one of. them had been drinking, showering, brushing their teeth, and cooking with. water from a tank containing a.

decomposing human body. The coffee shop. had been making coffee with it for. almost 3 weeks. Health officials issued. a do not drink order after the. discovery. 19 days too late. The tank was drained to remove her body. The coroner said she died from. accidental drowning. Bipolar disorder. was listed as a factor. There was no. sign of physical trauma, no sexual. assault, no drugs, no alcohol. It was an. accident. That was the official answer. But there were problems with the. official answer.

The roof access doors of the Cecil were. locked. An alarm was supposed to go off. if anyone opened them. No alarm went off. the night Alyssa disappeared. The water tank sat on elevated. platforms. The only way up was a ladder. bolted to the side. The hatches were. heavy, designed to keep debris and. animals out. Alyssa weighed about 115.

lbs. She was found naked inside a sealed. water tank. No one could explain how she. got up there, opened the hatch, or got. inside. The elevator footage has been. watched hundreds of millions of times. Footage of Alyssa talking to someone. People still slow it down frame by. frame, looking for a shadow in the. hallway, a second person just out of the. camera's view, a hand reaching toward. her. They never found anyone. Then there were the coincidences. At the. time of Alyssa's death, a tuberculosis. outbreak was spreading through Skid Row,

just a few blocks from the Cecil. Health. teams were screening homeless people. within walking distance of the hotel. The test they used to detect TB was. called Lamb Alyssa. The same name, in. the same order, deployed within walking. distance of where her body was. decomposing in a water tank. In 2005, a. horror film called Dark Water was. released. Tenants of an apartment. building noticed their water has turned. dark and tastes foul. Someone traces the. problem to a rooftop water tank inside. the body of a young girl who'd been.

reported missing. The plot of a horror. movie played out in real life eight. years later in the Cecil Hotel in Hotel. Death. Accident, coincidence, a building. with a body count. Nobody was satisfied. with the official answer, but nobody had. a better one.

The coroner said accident. The police. closed the case and the evidence. supports it, but it takes some work to. get there. The elevator footage is the. reason this case went viral. It looks. like a woman being stalked by something. invisible. But if you watch it knowing. that Alyssa had bipolar disorder and it. stopped taking her medication, it looks. different. The button pressing, the hiding, the. conversation with nobody. These are. symptoms. Psycho motor agitation, paranoid behavior, disorganized speech. The footage isn't a mystery. It's a. medical event recorded on camera. The.

roof access is the other big problem. The doors were locked. The hatches on. the tanks were heavy. A 115 lb woman. getting into a water tank alone seems. impossible. But investigators found that. the alarm on the roof door had been. broken for months. And the fire escape. gave direct access to the roof from. outside of the building. No locked doors. required. The Cecil was not a secure. building. People climbed to the roof all. the time. The hatch was open. The lid. wasn't locked. She could have lifted it. And most of the photos of the roof make.

it seem impossible that Alyssa could. climb into the tank. But there's one. photo that people rarely see. Right next. to the water tank was a ledge. She could. have easily hopped from the ledge onto. the tank. She was on the roof taking. pictures. We know this. Maybe she was. trying to get a better view. Why were. Alyssa's clothes off? That could be. something called paradoxical undressing. Hypothermic people can actually feel an. intense but false sensation of heat. They start taking off their clothes even. though they're freezing to death. This. is most often found in hypothermia. cases, and the water in the tank was.

cold. The medications in her system. support the timeline. She'd been taking. her meds inconsistently. Bipolar. episodes can escalate quickly when. medication is interrupted. paranoia, risk-taking, altered perception of. danger. A water tank on a dark rooftop. might not register as a threat to. someone in that state. There's no. evidence of foul play, no defensive. wounds, no DNA from another person, no. sign of sexual assault. Nobody on the. hotel's cameras who shouldn't have been. there. The coincidences are just. coincidences. The TV test was named.

Lamelissa decades before Alyssa Lamb was. born. Dark Water was based on a Japanese. short story from 1996. These things line. up the way things sometimes do when. millions of people are looking for. patterns. Maybe the coroner was right. A. young woman in crisis offer medication. wandering a building in LA. A building. that's the worst place for someone to. lose touch with reality. A building. where serial killers walk the halls in. bloody clothes and nobody looked twice. But that elevator footage is still out. there. She presses the buttons. She. hides in the corner. She talks to no.

one. The doors won't close. And then she. walks away. This case is probably. solved. Something about it doesn't sit right. For 19 days, the body of a dead girl. floated in a hotel water tank. For 19. days, hotel guests drank the strange. tasting water. And for 19 days, none of. the guests in Hotel Death thought to ask. why.

So now I can't stop thinking about the. idea of AAM's razor, which if you don't. know is the theory that the simplest. explanation is usually the correct. explanation. But there's a problem with. that here. Because with Gloria Ramirez's. toxicity and Eliza Lamb's death and the. Hinter Kyek murders, there actually. isn't a simple answer. Each explanation. we can come up with feels borderline. impossible and incredibly rare.

Especially that point AJ made that for. 19 days an entire hotel full of people. drank brown rancid water and didn't even. bother to ask why. But it's not just. Eliza. With the Hinter Kyifax, we're. looking at a killer who managed to lure. half of an entire family into a barn one. by one. And then once they brutally. murdered everyone, they stayed and took. care of the family's livestock and then. lived in their home while their bodies. rotted in this incredibly invasive way.

Like there's absolutely nothing simple. about that. And with Gloria, the most. popular explanation is that some. extremely rare set of circumstances. turned her blood into a toxic gas, which. again, it's just it's just not so. simple. Like how can that be the most. simple explanation, but it's all we got? Okay, so the final trio here is another. batch of online horror stories, but. these felt a little different. They come. from the darkest recesses of the.

internet, the kind of places that most. people don't find themselves on purpose, and just watching them without even. knowing the the stories behind them is a. risk because these are all the kinds of. videos that I swear you won't be able to. forget. Gather around. This happened in Japan in. January of 2004.

Just past 11 on a Thursday night, Humi. caught the last train home from work at. Shinhhamu. It was about a 33-minute trip. with a stop every few minutes, and she. knew every station by heart. But tonight. was different. About 20 minutes in, the. train didn't stop once. 30 minutes, 40. minutes, the train just kept going and. Humi was getting nervous. Finally, 90 minutes later, the train. stopped. Humi got off at Kisaragi.

Station. Humi was confused. She never. heard of Kisaragi station. Well, that's. because it doesn't exist. Humi documented the bizarre train ride. in real time. She logged into 2C. channel, the biggest message board in. Japan. She opened a thread in a channel. where people share strange stories and.

she was living one. But her early. messages were calm and polite. The way. you talk if something weird was. happening, but you were sure there was a. normal explanation. So, she laid out the. story post by post as it happened. >> Has anyone heard anything about the. Hamat's train? Did they switch it to an. express train? It's not stopping at any. stations. >> Users responded quickly. It was late, but this is the kind of message board.

that comes alive at night. Humumi wrote. about the train not stopping at stations. like it was an express train. But this. line had no express and Humi wasn't. alone. There were five other people on the. train. But something felt off. They were. all asleep, but not the way commuters. doze off. When you fall asleep on a. train or a plane, your head kind of just. hangs. When you hit a bump, you snap up. for a second and then drift off again.

They weren't doing this. Those people. were out almost like they were sedated. Passumi expected someone to wake up and. be as confused as she was. But nobody. did the entire time. >> Nobody on this train is awake except me. I don't know how anyone could sleep on a. train. And they are sleeping really. hard. I had to check that they were. actually breathing. Hasumi was still calm and joking with. people on the message board, but it was. getting late and she was getting a.

little worried. People told her to check. with the conductor. That was a good. idea. She walked to the front of the. car, but the window of the driver's cab. was covered. The blinds were closed from. the inside. She knocked on the window politely at. first, then harder and harder till she. was banging on it. Either the conductor. was ignoring her or nobody was driving. this train. She couldn't decide which. was worse. She went back to her seat and.

told everybody what happened. The joking. stopped. Then the train entered a. tunnel. There was no tunnel on her commute. Not. anywhere. And this tunnel went on for a. long time. Too long. When the train. finally came out of the tunnel, it. started to slow down. Her commute is. supposed to be 33 minutes with stops. This was a 90-minute ride with only one. stop. This one.

She got out, but nobody else did. The. doors closed, and the train with the. five sedated passengers pulled away. Her. phone buzzed. The message board was. going crazy. People wanted to know where. she was. She found the name on a sign. and sent it to the message board. Kisuragi. A few minutes later, someone. replied, "Oh no.".

The station was deserted and looked old. An empty Japanese train station was. weird enough, but there were no ticket. machines, no timetable, no phones. The. area didn't look familiar at all. There. wasn't a single house in sight, and it. was too quiet. She could see hills far. in the distance, but everything was. dark. The light at the platform was the. only light for miles. She checked the. message board again. The internet loves. a puzzle, so people went to work, but. nobody could find any information about.

Kisaragi station. Assumi searched too. Same result. >> I've been searching the web and I can't. find anything called Kisalagi. If anyone. knows where I am, please post right. away. There is no and there has never been a. station named Kisaragi on this train or. any train line in the entire country. And it wasn't just a few people. searching. Hundreds of people were now. in the thread trying to find her. Then. came the speculation. She got on the.

wrong train. Unlikely. There's only one. train out of Shin Hamamatsu and she was. on it. Some said maybe she's in an. alternate reality or maybe in some type. of purgatory or liinal space. It. certainly felt like it. Then a message. shut down a lot of theories. Someone. asked if she slipped into some different. reality. How has she been posting the. whole time? It's the same internet, the. same people since the beginning of the. thread. And even though she was in the. middle of nowhere, she had cell service.

And that message reminded Humi to do the. obvious. She called her parents. They. picked up right away. She told them the. story and they came to the same. conclusion. There was no such place as. Kisaragi Station. Her father told her to. call the police and she did. The police. were cooperative at first. They couldn't. find Kasaragi Station either, and if. they couldn't find it, it didn't exist. The policeman said it was against the. law to prank call the police. Msumi.

apologized and hung up. Her phone was. full of lifelines. Her parents were. awake and ready to help. The police. picked up on the first ring and hundreds. of people online were trying to find. her. But all of them were useless. because the station, the hills, the. ground underneath her feet, none of it. existed. Then just before 2:00 in the. morning, she heard the drums. The deep sound of Taigo drums was coming.

from somewhere. and also the ringing of bells, festival. sounds. But it was 2:00 in the morning in the. middle of January. There was no. festival. And even if there were, she. couldn't pinpoint the direction of the. sounds. They were far away. That's all. she knew. So she waited and waited and. waited. Maybe another train would come. along, but none did. But Assumi was. still calm and made a practical choice. Follow the tracks. Train tracks connect.

stations. The next one might be far. away, but it would be there eventually, hopefully. She started walking, listening to the drums, and posting. messages the whole time. >> Okay, I've been walking for like an. hour, and I swear someone is following. me or watching me, but I don't want to. turn around. >> Dozens of people type back at her in. real time. Keep moving, she did, but she. couldn't shake the feeling. Then she.

heard a voice yelling behind her to get. off the tracks. They're dangerous. She turned around expecting to see a. station worker, but it was an old man. about 30 ft away with crutches standing. on one leg. She was about to reply and. then he was gone. He didn't walk away. He was just gone. Then the message board. stopped giving advice and started giving. orders. Don't go back to that station.

Run and run as fast as you can. But. there was a tunnel ahead and it was. dark. But she had no choice. This is the. only direction. So she went in and. started walking. Somewhere in the dark, she fell and cut herself. She didn't. know how bad. She couldn't see a thing. She was using her phone as a light. She. got up and kept moving. When she finally. got to the end of the tunnel, she saw. lights, headlights, a car. There was a. man standing by the car waiting like he. knew she was coming. He said she was a.

long way from anywhere and offered to. drive her to the next station. She was. bleeding, exhausted, and it was the. middle of the night. She got in the car. The message board did not like this. idea, but she told him he seemed okay. He was weird, but okay. He chatted with. her for a while. Small talk mostly. But. then he got quiet. >> He hasn't said a word in like 20.

minutes. He's just staring out the. window driving. He promised to drop me. off at the next town. I'll keep checking. in. The message board was in full panic. They were asking her to describe him, describe the car, describe the area, and. she did all of that. And she said there. was a town right up ahead, and she was. looking forward to getting home. It was. almost 3:30 in the morning. Then the car passed the exit for the. town and headed into the mountains. The.

man started muttering to himself, assuming he couldn't hear what he was. saying, but she sent a message to the. board. >> My battery's almost run out. Things are. getting strange. So, I think I'm going. to make a run for it. He's been talking. to himself about bizarre things for a. while now. to prepare for just the right. time. I'm going to make this my last. post for now. She said that at 3:44 a.m. and never.

post it again. At 3:44 a.m. on January 9th, 2004, Humi. sent her final message, but the thread. stayed open for her. Strangers who. watched the night unfold kept refreshing. the page, hoping for an update. People. kept checking in to see if she made it. home. The thread never answered. No. rescue, no body, no ending. A woman.

narrated her own disappearance in real. time to a public message board and the. last anyone heard from her was she was. promising to run. The thread is still. online. You could read every message and. watch the timestamps I did and it's. creepy. From the first post at 11:14 to. the last at 3:44 and it reads exactly. the way I told it. The train she boarded. is real and it runs about half an hour. from Shin Hamamatsu to its final stop.

Hasumi wrote it for more than an hour. And there's never been a station called. Kisaragi anywhere on that line or. anywhere. For 18 years, people analyzed. the story. They timed the train stop by. stop. They compared timestamps. They. tracked IP addresses. Every lead was a. dead end. Assumi was gone and there was. no way to find her. But the story. wouldn't go away. In 2022, it became a. horror movie. And when the movie came. out, one of the stations on that same.

line was temporarily named Kisaragi. They printed real physical tickets with. Kisaragi station as the destination. They sold out in an hour. In 2004, a. young woman spent 4 hours begging. strangers for one thing, a way home from. Kisaragi Station. She called her. parents. She called the police. She. walked into a tunnel. She got in a car. with a stranger. She did everything she. could to find her way out. 18 years.

later, people lined up to buy their way. in. Gather around. This happened in 2005. A. one minute video appeared on YouTube. A. man sat alone at a table in a bare white. room with no windows and a black bar. covered his eyes. He held an oversized. spoon and ate soup from a bowl. And he. cried. Not soft tears. Deep full body.

sobs that shook his shoulders and made. his hands tremble. He kept lifting the. spoon to his mouth like he couldn't. stop, like someone off camera forced it. Then two figures walked in behind him. wearing giant mascot heads. Their faces. were white with black circle eyes and. wide frozen grins. And they rubbed his. back slowly, gently, but he cried.

harder. The video was called Freaky Soup Guy. Millions of people watched it and a lot. of them believed it was that man's last. meal. The internet thought it was a snuff.

film. This was November of 2005 and. YouTube was less than a year old. There. were no algorithms, no trending pages, no fact checkers. Videos spread the old. way from one person to another, usually. with a warning attached. Don't watch. this alone. Within weeks, forums. exploded with theories. The crying man. was a kidnapped victim. The soup was. poisoned. The mascot figures were his. captors and the back rubs were mockery. People said the video leaked from the.

deep web, something dark that surfaced. on YouTube by accident. Some claimed the soup was made from. someone he loved. And when he finished. the bowl, the men in the suits would. finish the job. Those figures were the. only lead. Identify them and you. identify the men in that room. So people. dug and the costumes turned up fast. The. characters were called Ray Ray and they. weren't hiding or obscure. Ray Ray. performed in underground clubs all over.

Los Angeles with a group that came out. of Burning Man in 1998. The group mixed. musicians, fire performers, and aerial. artists into strange uncomfortable. shows. Audiences squirmed, laughed, and. came back the next week. And Ray Ray had. a creator. His name was Raymond Percy, and that name might not ring a bell, but. you've heard his voice. Percy voiced. Flash Sloth in Zootopia, The Sloth at. the DMV window. Flash Flash 100yard.

Dash. He spent years directing The. Simpsons, and one of his episodes won an. Emmy. Today, he makes peanut specials. for Apple TV Plus. One of the most. successful animators in Hollywood. created the figures in the most. disturbing video on the internet. Percy sketched Ray Ray in a notebook and. the sketches were of himself. He took. his own face and stripped it down to a. white mask with black hole eyes, dark. plastic hair, and a grin that was too.

wide. He said the character came from a. mix of inhibition, a sense of. alienation, and a deep-seated need for. entertainment. A special effects artist. turned the sketches into wearable. costumes with oversized heads, white. plastic hands, and full black clothing. underneath. The proportions were wrong. on purpose. The head was too big. The. eyes were too empty. And Ray Ray looked. like a cartoon drawn by someone who was.

never happy. Those grinning figures in. the soup video wear the artist's own. face. For 10 years, the video sat there. while views piled up and so did the. theories. Then YouTuber Rainbot tracked. Percy down through Tumblr in 2015, and. he wrote back. His story went like this. The Ray Ray costumes were stolen after a. show at the Key Club on the Sunset. Strip. The dressing room that night was. an old RV parked in the alley behind the.

club, and the door didn't lock. When the. group came back after the show, the. costumes were gone. A few weeks later, an anonymous email. landed in his box with a video attached, and Percy pressed play and watched. strangers wear his stolen creation while. they filmed what looked like torture. And here's the part that stuck with him. Whoever wore those suits moved exactly. the way they should. The tilt of the. head, the slow, gentle hands. They knew.

Ray Ray's body language like they built. it. And Percy said there were more. videos, not just one. And the internet. accepted the whole story because a theft. explained everything. Strangers stole an. artist's work and twisted it. Case. closed. Then somebody checked the. account that put Freaky Soup Guy on. YouTube back in 2005. The account that. uploaded it on day one. That account was. called Renaissance Men. And Renaissance. Men belonged to someone we knew. It.

belonged to Raymond Percy. The proof was on the way back machine. A. 2008 snapshot of the Renaissance men. homepage included a link to a Ray Ray. MySpace page and the username displayed. on that page was Raymond Percy. The rest of the channel read like. Percy's personal blog. promos for. Simpsons episodes he worked on, a music.

video he directed. The victim of the. theft uploaded the video himself. And. Percy never denied it. His explanation. when it finally came was that he posted. the video to share it with his group. Fine. Now, read the descriptions. YouTube was just the start. Percy put. the video on Metacafe and on Daily. Motion through channels he ran under the. name Ray Ray TV. On those uploads, he.

wrote a description, a clip of people. who look like us doing something to. someone that we would never do. We. promise. that's written from Ray Ray's point of. view, not from a man reporting a stolen. costume. from the characters themselves. playing innocent with Ray Ray denying. involvement in a video that Ray Ray. stars in. The YouTube description was. simpler. We don't know what this is. Not. one description mentioned stolen. costumes and not one asks for help.

finding them. Three platforms, every. description in character and all of them. uploaded by Percy. And there was a. second video. Same room, same crying. man, same Ray Ray figures. This time, one of them charged at the man while he. screamed. Percy uploaded that one to the other. channels, too, under a new title, Soup. torture. The video's description was, "What's happening in this clip, and why. do these people look like us?" The trail.

even has a ghost in it. a YouTube. account called Adana with no history, no. uploads, and the soup video as its. profile picture. And a year after. uploading Freaky Soup Guy, Percy stood. on a stage and accepted an Emmy for. directing The Simpsons. A third video showed a Ray figure. dragging a ropet tied man through a. backyard at night. The bound man wore. glasses and a hat and he looked like Gil.

Chiron. Chiron became one of the most. respected drummers in rock. He played. for the Dillinger Escape Plan and spent. years behind the kit for Marilyn Manson. But in 2005, Cheron played drums in. Stolen Babies. And the lead singer of. Stolen Babies was Dominique Lenor Percy, Raymond Percy's sister. The band and the. costumes came from the same family. Stolen babies grew out of a high school. performance troop, and the skit that.

gave the band its name was written by. Dominique and her older brother, Raymond. The theft never stopped Ray Ray. either. The group had spare costumes. made, and Ray Ray showed up in Stolen. Baby's 2006 music video. Same costumes, same deadeyed grins. The same obscure art project showed up. twice in 12 months in front of two. completely different audiences. One went. out through normal music channels. One. landed in the darkest corner of early.

internet culture, made for people who. stayed up too late clicking on things. they probably shouldn't. Percy told. Rainbot he had no idea the video went. viral, even though by 2015 it had. millions of views. He ran rayworld.com. He ran rayand.com. He had Ray Rayville on MySpace and Ray. Ray Vision and Ray TV on YouTube. The. man built an entire online world around. this character. And he said he didn't. notice when one of his uploads became a.

global phenomenon. Okay. There's no record of a police report. about the stolen costumes. No insurance. claim. no public appeal for their. return. The only record of any theft is. a message to a YouTuber sent 10 years. after the fact. Then in 2016, the story.

cracked open again. An anonymous poster. claimed contact with the thief. According to the post, the man who stole. the costumes was a hacker who made the. videos as an art statement, something. about freeing Ray Ray from the. corruption of money. And the hacker. claimed one more thing. Rainbot never. spoke to Raymond Percy at all. The. hacker was inside Percy's accounts the. whole time reading his email and. answering as him. If that's true, the. theft story came from someone wearing.

Percy's identity the same way they wore. his costumes. The post said the hacker. went silent in early 2017, and nobody. verified a word of it. So, the mystery. ate its own solution. Either Percy ran. the whole thing from the beginning, or a. thief stole his costumes, filmed those. videos, hijacked his accounts, and spent. a decade answering the world's questions. in his name. Nobody's ever proven Percy wore the. suits in that room, but nobody's ever.

proven he didn't. Percy never made. another public statement about black. room soup. He kept working. Disney. movies, cartoons for kids, and the video. is still on YouTube with over 900,000. views on the original upload alone and. millions across re-uploads and reaction. videos. For 20 years, people have slowed. it down frame by frame. They isolated. the audio and listened for a voice off. camera. They zoomed in on shadows, hundreds of forum threads, dozens of. explainers, and nobody found the answer.

because the video never gives one. But. Percy told Rainbot one more thing. Over. the years, people kept sending him. videos, more Ray Ray footage, doing all. sorts of things. He never posted any of. it and never said how many videos there. were or what was in them. They're still. out there somewhere. The crying man. never came forward. His face stayed. hidden in every video. Some viewers. thought the man looked like Percy.

himself, but no one confirmed it, and no. one denied it. Nobody's friend, nobody's. brother, nobody's coworker, just a man. who doesn't exist outside those videos. Whoever he is, he never said a word. He. just cried. And the man behind the black. bar is still at that table. He still. lifts the spoon. He still cries. The. hands still rub his back slowly and. gently. One minute beginning to end for. anyone who presses play. 20 years now.

And he never gets to finish the soup. Gather around. This happened in 2018. A. woman sat in front of a camera with 11. lbs of raw salmon. A blue mask covered.

everything above her mouth. No name, no. face. She whispered two words. >> Then she started eating. The channel was. Kate Yup. And over the next year and a. half, she posted around 30 videos. Expensive seafood, a blank beige wall, silence except the sound of chewing. Then someone turned up the audio on that. first video and under the crunching, a. man's voice whispered into the. microphone. The woman behind the mask.

was never alone. Mukbang started in South Korea around. 2010. The word means eating broadcast. People filmed themselves working through. huge meals while an audience watched in. real time.

Some came for the ASMR sounds, the crack. of lobster shells, the snap of crab. legs. Some came because they ate dinner. alone and a stranger eating on a screen. felt like company. Kate, yep, fit the. formula. King crab worth hundreds of. dollars. Whole lobster tails. Giant. shrimp still in their shells. She tore. through all of it with bare hands while. the microphone caught every sound. The crack of a claw. The wet pull of. meat off bones. Her captions stayed.

cheerful. So delicious. I love this. crab. Thank you for watching. But something was wrong. Kate was thin. in a way that scared people. You can see. her collar bones through her clothes. And she ate fast, too fast. She shoved. food in, barely chewing, grabbing the. next piece before she finished the last. And the room never changed. Every video, the same beige wall. No windows, no. decorations, no bookshelf, no poster,

nothing to show where she was or what. time it was. There was no clock, no. windows, no daylight, no way to tell a. Tuesday from a Sunday or noon from. midnight. Most mukbang creators film in. kitchens or restaurants. Kate filmed in. front of a wall they could have been. anywhere. A room built to show nothing. It felt intentional. Around the sixth or seventh video, the. bruises showed up. Deep purple marks on. her arms. The kind fingers leave when. they grab you too hard. In one video,

her lip was split and swollen. She said. it was a cold sore. In another video, she had dark lines around her wrists. Viewers stripped out the chewing and. turned up the background noise. They. heard a man's voice giving orders. Just. eat, swallow faster. In one video, someone whispered, "I kill you.". The word came through clear, even under.

the sound of chewing. In another video, the table jolted, kicked from off camera. the moment Kate slowed down. A dish of. food slid toward her. A hand pushed it. from off camera. Footsteps came toward. the microphone, then backed away. Someone else was in that room, and they. did not want to be seen. Then it got stranger. Kate's profile. photo wasn't her. It was a stock photo. of a random woman eating fries. Nothing. about her connected to anything outside.

those videos. She existed only inside. that room in front of that wall. But the. channel kept growing. 100,000. subscribers, 200,000. The bruises kept. showing up. The woman in the mask kept. getting thinner. Then people noticed. something disturbing. She was hiding. messages in her video descriptions.

In August 2019, Kate posted a video. called I am Alive. She used the captions. to answer the growing panic. The first. letter of each line spelled H E L P. Hey, I'm still alive, my friends. Everything is okay for me. Look at me. Are you really thinking I am forced to. eat? Prawn, just smaller than giant. shrimps. You don't spell help by.

accident with the first letter of four. sentences. Not in a video called I am. alive. In other videos, capital letters. dropped into the middle of normal. sentences spelled SOS. The meat is. capital S, so delicious. capital O, capital S. In another, they spelled call. 911. Four separate videos carried hidden. words. Then a viewer noticed Kate. tapping on the side of her dipping bowl. in a rhythm that matched Morse code.

That comment shot to the top of every. video on the channel. Kate pinned a. reply denying it, but those words. weren't hers. Someone found an English. denial on Reddit and pasted it in word. for word. She answered other theories, too. When people asked about the mask, whoever was responding for the channel. said it was to hide a nose deformity. She had scars from cold sore blisters. When people brought up the tapping, the.

channel, whoever that was, denied it. But the signs got worse. In two separate. videos, Kate reached into her mouth and. pulled out a broken tooth. She didn't. stop eating. She didn't flinch. She kept. eating with blood around her gums while. the caption said everything was fine. Viewers called the FBI. They called the. police across California. They filed. missing person's reports and launched a. petition that pulled in thousands of.

signatures. A million people watched and. waited for someone to kick down a door. Nobody came. With no name, there was. nothing to open a file on. With no face, there was no one to look for. With no. address, there was no door to find. The. mask didn't just hide Kate from the. audience. It hid her from everyone. trying to save her. And one detail pointed somewhere darker. In several videos, a toothbrush was. taped to her wrist, not on the table.

taped to her body. People didn't want to. think about why. People couldn't tell if. this was a hoax or real, but they. couldn't look away. On November 10th, 2019, Kate posted her last video. Another tooth came loose during the. meal. Her final caption read, "Oh my. god, I can die in peace after this. bite." And then she was gone.

Three years passed and nothing. No. uploads, no posts, no sign that Kate Yup. existed anywhere on Earth. The petition. stalled. The reports closed. The million. people who watched her drifted off to. the next mystery. Then on October 7th, 2022, a new video appeared. Raw salmon. Japanese food. The caption said she was. fine and she was alone in that room. It. also said, "Stop spreading kidnapping.

rumors." But viewers noticed things. Her. jawline was wider. Her skin tone was. different. The way she held her food, the angle of her wrists, just small. details that didn't line up with the. older videos. Nobody could confirm it was the same. woman. And if it wasn't, then someone. else had the account and the password. and the exact same setup and they wanted. the world to stop looking. She posted. nothing after that. No replies, no proof.

of life. The channel went quiet again. The internet kept hunting. One theory. thought she was a Polish UFC fighter. The bruises fit. The covered face kind. of fit. But that theory didn't hold up. The two women had different moles on. their necks, and the fighter's own. Instagram showed different injuries. And. Kate had a tattoo the fighter didn't. On. Kate's wrist was a small heart looped. through an infinity sign. That tattoo. means something. Some people used that.

symbol to mean polyamory. To a few. viewers, that turned the whole story. inside out. The bruises, the voice off. camera, the orders. Maybe none of it was. kidnapping. Maybe it was a lifestyle. choice. Another theory tied her to a. teenager who vanished in California, but. that one fell apart, too. Kate's channel. posted for months before that girl. disappeared. Every lead went cold. Every theory hit a. wall. No missing person's report ever.

matched her. No police department ever. opened a case. Her real name is unknown. Her face is unknown. And her location is. unknown. The first video's description. was French. The account said, "United. States." She covered her face in every. frame she ever filmed. The mask did its. job better than any disguise in internet. history. A woman broadcast herself to. millions of people, and not one of them. could tell you her name. Today, the channel has more than 1.7.

million subscribers. Most of them. arrived after she vanished. The videos. still run ads and the ads still pay. Few. hundred a month, maybe more, but they. pay every month. And someone is cashing. the checks. A frozen channel about a. woman nobody can find still earns money. That gives someone a reason to never let. the truth out. Somewhere, someone still logs into that. account. Every month, they collect the.

money. And every day the algorithm shows. her videos to somebody new. Somebody who. turns up the volume, leans in close, and. hears the voice for the very first time. Just eat. It's funny because when I watch these. videos or read Hizumi's messages, I.

can't really explain that feeling of. dread that I get. They're all just so. wrong. They're real people doing real, even mundane things like taking the. train or or eating. And I don't know, it's just so off that it it gives you. goosebumps before you really even know. why. And so it makes sense that people. want to protect themselves from this. kind of thing. I've talked about Hizumi. before on my show, and what I kept. coming back to was the the public's. reaction. People were so freaked out by.

it that they actually developed this. distinct set of rules for surviving. Kisaragi or a a similar deserted. station, including what now feels. obvious. Never exit your train at a. station that does not appear on any. official maps. In each of these stories, I think that what I want and what other. people want is some sign that these. people, Kate, Hizumi, and the mysterious. crying man, actually do exist and are. okay. We've witnessed them in a in a. dark, dangerous situation, and we want.

to know that they've come through on the. other side. Until we know that, these. these haunting images and texts are all. we have, and they are not comforting. All right, that's it for me. It's been. incredible to be here to to talk about. these bizarre mysteries that I will. definitely be thinking more about for a. long time after I'm done recording this. I want to thank AJ and the W Files for. having me on. Seriously, I love you, AJ,

and your show is awesome. Uh, and if you. enjoyed this episode and are a fan of. the strange, dark, and mysterious, be. sure to check out our YouTube channel. called Mr. Ballin and our podcast called. the Mr. Ballin podcast. Strange, dark, and mysterious stories. So, until next. time, thank you so much. Enjoy the. episode. Take care. Many thanks to John Allen aka Mr. Ballin. for helping us out. We were not going to. read those because neither of us was. brave enough, but at least I didn't run.

home to hide behind my kennel. >> Never again, human. I will not be. emasculated on my own program. Uh, so I. took steps. >> What steps? As we speak, the Viva. brothers are in the garage building a. proton pack out of a leaf blower and. other spare parts. >> The leaf blower isn't a spare part. I. use that. >> Oh. Uh, do you also use your truck's. battery? >> Yes. >> No. And then we probably shouldn't. discuss the microwave. >> What did you do with the microwave?

>> Virgil converted it into a particle. accelerator. Uh, who knew he was such a. cracker jackack at physics? Next time somebody needs a ghost story. to be told, they don't call John. They. call tree beavers and a fish who does. not blink. >> You can't blink to. >> Thanks again to John. Go subscribe to. Mr. Ball and let you probably already. did that cuz everybody has. Until next. time, be safe, be kind, and know that. you are appreciated.

I play Bibia in Area 51. A secret code. inside the Bible said I would. I love my UFOs and paranal fun as well. as music singing like I should.

But then another conspiracy theory. becomes the truth my friends. and it never ends. No, it never ends. I fear the crab guy. I got stuck inside. Mel's home with MK being only aware.

Did Stanley Cubrick fake the moon. landing alone on a film set with the. shadow people there? The Roswell aliens just fought the. smiling man. I'm told. and his name was cold. I can't believe I'm dancing with the. fishes. Hit the fish on Thursday night, Wednesday, Jap.

The math man sidings and the solar storm.

still come to gather the secret city. underground. Mysterious number stations, planet. circle too, project star and what the. dark watchers found. in a simulation. Don't you worry though. The black nights had a lighting to me. So I can't believe I'm dancing with the. fish.

on Thursday nights when they chase you. and weapons all through the night. All I ever wanted was to hear the truth. all through the night. fish on Thursday nights when they change. you and what happened all through the. night. All I ever wanted was to hear the truth.

We walk on feet all through the night. Love to dance. Loves to dance. To dance on the dance floor because she. is a camel. Cameron love to dance when. the feeling is right on ways in time.