As they pulled up to the haunted

lighthouse, his friend told him that

anyone who went up never came back down.

No bodies, no answers, just [music] gone

forever. He warned his friend not to go,

but curiosity got the better of him. He

told him he would call from the top to

prove he was okay. Phone in hand, he

stepped through the door and disappeared

up the stairs. The climb was long, but

at the top there was nothing [music]

really. Just a quiet room and an ocean

view. Not scary at all. He pulled out

his phone, but there was no service. And

that's when he noticed it. A small room

off to the side. In it was an old rotary

phone still connected. He picked it up

and called his friend and let him know

he was speaking from an old phone he

found in [music] this cool room. The

friend froze. There was no phone or

[music] room in this lighthouse. He

circled the base, looked up, and saw him

standing [music] on an old rotting plank

holding his cell phone. A gust of wind

came hard off the sea. The call cut out,

and only the lighthouse remained. They

set up a baby monitor to keep an eye on

their daughter because recently they had

noticed open drawers and crooked window

blinds, things that made them uneasy.

The camera was a way to make sure

nothing odd was happening. Hours later,

in the middle of the night, the monitor

crackled awake, instantly jolting her

from sleep. She glanced at the screen

and saw her husband standing over the

crib, cradling their baby. She felt

relieved [clears throat] until she

realized her husband was lying right

next to her. Panic surged as she grabbed

a [music] baseball bat and bolted into

the nursery. She turned on the light and

her husband spun around startled,

clutching [music] their baby. If this

was her husband, then who was in her

bed? While he was studying, a hand

reached through the window and dropped a

velvet case onto his desk. Inside were

two glowing contact lenses. He slid one

onto each eye and immediately the text

on the page moved. Diagrams animated,

labels slid in place, and the answers

appeared right on the paper. Every

problem was solved before he even

finished reading it. On the way out of

the library, he saw the man who gave him

the lenses watching in the distance.

During labs, the lines [music] he needed

to cut appeared as paths. And when

taking a test, every question lit up

with answers only he could see. He

graduated at the top of his class and

saw the mysterious man again in the

crowd. Years passed by and he became a

legend in the [music] industry. While

operating, overlays hovered over organs,

showing him exactly what to do. And

every single one of his patients

survived. After years of this, the call

came. The president had suffered a

stroke live on air. Emergency surgery

was needed and he was their best bet.

His hands were shaking as he scrubbed

in, but as he stood over the president,

the lenses immediately brightened,

drawing neat paths across the failing

heart. He began to push the scalpel into

the skin, but then everything

disappeared.

There was nothing to guide his hands.

Shaking, he pushed the scalpel anyway

and cut too deep. Blood spurtded up over

his arms and it was too late. Monitors

were flatlining. The president was dead.

The crowd was horrified as they looked

down at the body except for one man. He

was completely unfaced with a faint

smile on his face as he turned and

walked away.

He woke up to banging coming from

[music] downstairs. The clock read 3:34

a.m. He checked his parents' room,

empty. He went downstairs, but as he

reached the living room, he saw men

stealing the TV. Terrified, he ran

upstairs and locked his door. Then the

banging started. He woke up believing it

was a dream, but the clock still read

3:34 [music]

a.m. Scared, he went downstairs to

reassure himself. But the men were in

the kitchen yelling at his parents. He

ran back upstairs just as the banging

[music] started. He woke up again. It

was 3:34 a.m. This time, he stayed awake

for 36 hours, haunted by the endless

loop. There was a staircase in the

middle of the village that led straight

into the sky with no end in sight.

[music] Twice a year, they held

Ascension Day where they chose a name

out of a barrel. It was a great honor to

be chosen. The villagers would beam with

pride. His sister fixed his hair and

gave him a tearful hug. She would see

him again when she [music] was chosen.

The elder pressed on his chest and

studied him for a moment. Then he

stepped aside without a word. [music] He

climbed as the villagers cheered. But as

she watched the cloud swallow him,

something felt terribly wrong. Later

that night, she snuck through the

village and got to the base of the

stairs. Climbing them without being

chosen meant your name could never be

called. [music] If she did this, she

might never see her brother again. But

she couldn't shake the unease, so she

started climbing. As the village

disappeared below, the air got thinner

and it was cold. She found a door. It

opened with a groan. Inside was a long

table with two strange figures at either

end. One of the figures reached out and

lifted the lid from the largest tray.

She froze in disbelief. It was her

brother tied like a roast. An apple

jammed in his mouth. His eyes were

blinking. He was still alive. She turned

to go get help, but the wind slammed the

door shut.

He got into his time machine and set the

dial for ancient Rome. It landed with a

loud crack. As it opened, he stepped out

and as the dust cleared, he realized he

was right in the middle of a Roman army.

A soldier grabbed his arm, but he

managed to pull out of his grasp,

leaving behind his watch. He ran back as

a spear whizzed past his head. He

punched his return coordinates. The

machine landed in silence. As it opened,

he saw nothing but gray skies and dead

trees. Behind him was a city in ruins. A

massive statue was half buried in the

ash. It was an emperor with one arm

reaching out of the ground, and on the

wrist was a watch. His watch. In the

street ahead, he saw a crushed warhead

casing with his watch etched into its

side. You see, the soldier had kept it

that day. Roman engineers took it apart.

They studied its gears, its strange

metals, its hidden power. They cracked

the battery. They discovered energy,

built machines, and forged weapons far

beyond their time. They advanced too

far, too fast. He ran to the machine to

go retrieve the watch, but the spear had

torn a massive hole, meaning he was

stuck in a timeline that never should

have existed, all because of his watch.

He would steal the dog and take it home

with him. But this wasn't just a random

pet. You see, he did his research

beforehand, hanging out in dog parks and

looking for emotional owners. You know,

the ones who loved their pets as if they

were kids. Then he would follow them

home, stake out the house, and take

their dogs. Soon the lost dog posters

would appear, and when he offered his

help, they always agreed. Money [music]

was no object to these people. When he

finally staged the reunion, he would

live stream it, and it was always a hit.

Hundreds of thousands tuned in live, and

soon his videos even attracted sponsors.

That's because he had a knack for

[music] finding the best targets. Like

Ernie, an elderly veteran with PTSD and

a support dog as his only companion.

After stealing his dog, he streamed

himself pretending to find him and

teased a dramatic live stream of the

reunion when he would return the animal.

But when he stepped inside the veteran's

house, the dog stopped dead in its

tracks and started whining. He shrugged

it off with a smile. There were

thousands of viewers watching. With a

sharp tug, he managed to get the dog

moving until he got to the kitchen and

found the man on the floor dead.

Panicked, he fumbled with the record

button, desperate to shut off the

stream. "This wasn't supposed to

happen," he whispered. "I just steal

them. I give them back. I'm [laughter]

not a killer." But the stream never

actually stopped, and his followers

heard [music]

everything.

>> [music]

[music]

[screaming]

[panting]

[music]

[music]

>> Heat. [music]

[music]

[music]

Heat.

As he tucked his daughter in, she looked

scared and asked him to check the

closet. The father smiled and walked

over, but as he pulled the closet door

open, his face went numb. It was his

daughter. She was crying, trembling. He

completely froze in horror before

snapping his head back to [music] the

bed. It was empty. He was panicked for a

moment, but he shook it off. It must

have just been his imagination. He

calmed his daughter, tucked her in for

real this time, and left the room. The

dark room settled for a moment, but then

the closet door slowly creaked open.

They put the device on her grandma's

finger because she wasn't feeling well.

It pricricked her skin, took a drop of

blood, and scanned her fingerprint. Then

it gave a number 9.8. This was bad. You

see, elderly people would take this new

test. The lower numbers meant that you

would die peacefully, maybe in your

sleep years [music] from now. But the

high numbers, those meant a long, hard

decline. So a pill was offered to those

with high numbers. You would take it and

pass peacefully in your sleep, skipping

the years of anguish. They gave one to

her grandma. Every night she'd sit at

the kitchen table, pill in one hand, tea

in the other. But she couldn't bring

herself to take it. She felt okay. And

over the next 6 months, [music] her

granddaughter noticed that nothing

happened. So she started to do some

research. She found some hidden files on

the AI behind this test. She learned it

had been altered. It wasn't predicting

suffering. Insurance companies

reprogrammed the AI to flag patients who

would cost too much money as they aged.

They weren't treating patients. They

were eliminating expenses. She printed

off her research and sped to her

grandma's house to show her, but she

couldn't find her. The gravedigger

decided to open the casket just to take

a quick peek inside. He was almost done

digging the grave and sometimes like to

see the face of [music] the person he

was about to bury. But what he saw made

him fall back in shock. It was his face

staring up from inside. [music]

Heart racing, he sprinted home to his

wife, leaving the grave half dug. But

when he got there, his wife looked at

him with horror. She backed away,

trembling, reaching for a knife [music]

behind her. He stepped forward and she

screamed. He ran. He didn't know where

else [music] to go, so he returned to

the graveyard. But now there were

figures [music] standing around the open

casket. He crept closer. Their skin was

gray, their heads swollen, and eyes were

black and wide. One of them turned.

[music]

It placed a hand on his shoulder. You

finished the mission, Zar. Great job. as

always. He couldn't [music] move or

speak, just frozen in confusion. The

figure sighed, "You poor thing. You've

been down here too long." She reached up

and touched [music] his cheek, slowly

peeling, revealing the truth. His skin

came away like fabric, and beneath it,

he's [music] one of them. He opened the

package and pulled out a sleek looking

headset with no branding, only a QR

code. He scanned it, downloaded the

game, and hit launch. He hesitated for a

moment, but decided to put on the

headset. Immediate bright flashes filled

his vision. A loud, deafening tone. Then

everything went black. He woke up on his

floor, dying of thirst [music] and

hopelessly confused. His phone buzzed

and he picked it up. 55 missed calls,

hundreds of texts. He looked at the

date. 2 days had gone by. He scrolled

through the messages. Please turn

yourself in. How could you? [music] Why?

His mom's message read, "I still love

you, but you have to go to [music] the

cops." One message included a video

link. He clicked it. It was him lighting

a house on fire. He was committing

multiple terrible crimes. But when he

turned to get the headset, it was gone

along with his [music] computer. Sirens

approached. Red and blue flooded his

room, heart beating out of his chest.

His eyes caught the back door and he

decided to run. His wife was sitting

beside him. The kids were sleeping in

the back seat. The road stretched quiet

and dark. Then headlights cut across the

line.

When he came too, they were gone. His

family was dead because of a drunk

driver and he was all alone. Now 20

years later, he's retelling [music]

the story for the hundth time to his

psychiatrist. She had adjusted his

[music] medication many times, but

nothing seemed to help. He was numb. He

just couldn't enjoy life.

So she suggested an experimental clinic

that claimed it could completely erase

specific memories. This would be perfect

for him. He had been struggling with

this [music] weight for too long. He

agreed, desperate to forget his trauma,

signing all the waiverss without

hesitation, anything to make the pain

disappear. At the clinic, a nurse

[music] prepared him for the procedure,

noticing his trembling hands and

downcast eyes. Then the lead scientist

asked him to recall every detail. The

collision, the screaming metal, the

silence afterward. He poured it all out

so the machine could trace the neural

pathways and find his [music] memory.

They sedated him and the procedure

began. It was supposed to be quick, but

the system kept failing to lock [music]

on to the memory. The screen showed

inconsistent data. The scientists grew

frustrated. They sedated him deeper,

forcing the machine to dig harder.

[music] In the control room, the nurse

began to research records of his family

to try and help, but she couldn't find

anything. There was no marriage record

for him, [music]

no children, nothing. She found an

article about the car crash, and to her

horror, she saw the man's face in a

mugsh shot. He was the drunk driver that

night. He was the one that killed the

family.

>> [screaming]

>> and he was about to forget it all. He

strapped the shock collar around her

neck and pressed the button [music] to

test it out. You see, she barked at

everything all of the time, and he had

had enough. At first, he only shocked

her when she barked, and it worked like

[music] a charm. But soon, he started

shocking her when she just looked like

she was about to bark. And one time he

even shocked her [music] for no reason.

She learned quickly and stopped barking,

staying silent even when startled. At

one night, while the house was quiet,

the dog suddenly stiffened. Her ears

twitched and she stared down the hall,

but she didn't bark. She only stared.

The man noticed her posture and shook

his head while gripping the remote. But

a man stepped out from [music] behind

the wall, a gun in his hand. The owner's

eyes went wide, but it was too late. He

was dead, and his dog kept silent, just

like he wanted.

They opened their new cleaning robot,

and it picked up its own packaging using

AI to predict and detect messes. It

vacuumed spills before they even hit the

ground. It nagged dad about his socks

and chased the kids with a feather

duster. It became part of the family

until one day it threw their groceries

away. Then the dog's bed, then their

shoes.

>> Mess potential eliminated.

>> It chirped. Then the dog vanished. The

kids surged and the parents called until

they noticed the robot dragging a trash

bag. It jingled and a squeaky toy

bounced free.

>> Mess potential eliminated. Floors

secure. A bloody broken broom laid

nearby. For a second, they stared, but

when the robot grabbed the handle, they

ran.

>> Further potential detergent.

>> They locked themselves in the bedroom,

and Dad pulled a shotgun from the

closet. Suddenly, the door exploded

inward. In the chaos, shots rang out.

Everything was a blur.

The next morning, there was silence. The

house gleamed. Not a stain, not a sock,

not a sound.

>> This potential eliminated.

>> Three friends were exploring the haunted

theater, which had been abandoned for

years. Locals told stories about

unexplained noises and things moving by

themselves, claiming the building was

haunted, but it was scheduled to be torn

down the next day, meaning this was

their only chance to explore it. One of

them joked about holding a seance. The

others laughed until they reached

[music] the stage. a bowl of salt, a

bird's skull, a blade, and an open book

with a drawing of an old woman's twisted

face. Then a faint sound came from the

rafters. It almost sounded like a woman

screaming in fear. Two of the friends

laughed and stepped closer, but the

third shook his head, saying it felt

wrong. They kept urging him, promising

that it was just for fun. Finally, he

sighed and climbed onto the stage. They

stood around the circle and joined

hands. The air grew still, but they

heard a soft scraping sound. It was the

blade. It started to tremble. It scraped

across the floor, slowly turning toward

them. Then the massive curtain dropped

with a heavy crash before the whole

stage collapsed. The next morning, the

demo crew searched the ruins. No sign of

anyone inside, just a crushed skull, a

sharp knife, and a book with a drawing.

It was three terrified teens sketched on

[music] the page. When the wrecking ball

hit, the workers swore they heard

screams coming from inside the walls.

They rolled him into the nursing home,

even though he didn't want to go, and

they took his beloved dog with them when

they left. Now his days [music] were

filled with pills, checkups, and bland

meals served on trays. But without his

dog, everything felt hollow. He began to

notice things. Pills left untouched,

piling up on tables. Now he recognized

these medications. Drugs that mixed

wrong could be deadly. And soon after,

people around him started dying one by

one. Each loss explained away by staff

as just old age. Late one night, he

called his daughter and whispered,

>> "It isn't safe here."

>> He begged her to let him move back home,

but she just asked if he had been taking

his pills. As the days passed, more

deaths followed. Then, a nurse collapsed

suddenly in the dining hall. This time,

there was no explanation. The staff

scrambled, ordering cameras to be

installed. Weeks later, his daughter was

called in for a meeting. The police were

there. They pulled up grainy footage of

the old man. He was crushing pills,

mixing the powder into the communal

sugar jar. A nurse stirred the sugar

into her coffee, took a sip, and

collapsed. It was him. The family turned

in horror, but he just smiled while

petting his dog. I told you it isn't

safe here.

Claire took the new weight loss pill.

Excited to finally get rid of her

hunger. She celebrated over a pizza

dinner with her family, but her plate

remained empty. Her appetite had

vanished. She finally felt in control.

Within just a few days, the weight

melted off. But then the real change

started to hit. Pancakes smelled like

vomit. Homemade meals made her gag. Even

water tasted rotten. She tried to quit

the pills, but even after she stopped,

her body still reacted like everything

was poison. Just the thought of food

made her panic. Doctors told her the

medication had connected the thought of

food with being poisoned. It couldn't be

undone, and it was happening to everyone

who had taken it. After months of being

on a feeding tube, she finally got the

news. A second pill had hit the market,

[music] offering 24 hours of relief. She

cried as she finally enjoyed dinner with

her family, and every bite was better

than she ever remembered. But within a

day, the pharmacies were out of the new

medication. People ended up fighting

over the pills in the streets. One

night, Claire dragged herself to a

pharmacy. It was already filled with

others like her. Rumaging through the

medications scattered on the floor, she

grabbed a handful of mixed pills and

swallowed, desperately hoping that

something in there would bring her

hunger back. Her shovel hit something as

she was [music] helping in the garden.

She thought it was a rock at first, but

when she pulled it out, it was cold and

heavy. She immediately ran over and

handed [music] it to her father. He kept

a straight face, but he was just as

confused. Later that evening, as he was

studying it, something began to move. He

stepped back, scared, and knocked over

the lantern. Oil and flames began to

spread. He stumbled back and knocked the

dial onto the floor.

The flames were gone. The lantern stood

upright. The dial was back on the anvil.

Now, he was a man of God, and this was

sorcery. He grabbed a mallet and struck

it again and again, but it wouldn't

break. So, he carried it deep into the

woods. Then, he dug until the hole was

deeper than himself. He threw it in,

buried it, whispered a prayer, and left.

And the dial sat there undisturbed for

150 years until one day a different

shovel hit it. Click here to continue

the story.