Sometimes the things that haunt us aren't the ones we can see, but the ones we carry inside. The quiet jealousy that festers over time, the unspoken fears that linger in the corners of our minds, and the dark emotions we try to bury. These are forces that shape our lives in ways we don't always understand. But be warned: when these shadows are unleashed, they have a way of taking control, and nothing will ever be the same again. First, fame at a deadly cost Followed by something sinister waits for you Finally in our last story, consumed by envy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Chapter 1: Who is Blair Bathory and what is this podcast about?
Hi, witches, I'm Blair Bathory, and this is the Something Scary Podcast. Thank you so much for being here. Whether this is your first time or you're one of the brave souls who join us every week. And if you're watching on Spotify or YouTube, you may notice we're doing another video version of the podcast.
We've done a couple of variations of this, so let me know in the comments which one you like best. Sometimes, the things that haunt us aren't the ones we can see, but the ones we carry inside. The quiet jealousy that festers over time, the unspoken fears that linger in the corners of our minds, and the dark emotions we try to bury.
These are forces that shape our lives in ways we don't always understand. But be warned, when these shadows are unleashed, they have a way of taking control, and nothing will ever be the same again. First, fame at a deadly cost, followed by something sinister waits for you. Finally, in our last story, consumed by envy.
But before we get to our stories, I wanted to ask if you would take a minute to rate and review this podcast. It's one of the ways you can help Something Scary continue to grow, and it only takes a minute. We are so grateful for the support of all of our listeners around the world.
So, wanna hear something scary?
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Chapter 2: What is the deadly cost of fame in the story of Drake?
Sometimes the cost of your dreams isn't measured in money, but in something far more precious, like in this story inspired by Shelby Lane. Drake felt that life had been completely unfair to him. Despite being a talented, aspiring musician, he was having no luck and was currently between jobs. To add to his misery, his friend Connor, an artist, had experienced a recent boom of tremendous success.
Patrons paying hundreds of thousands, even millions, for his paintings and sculptures. Instead of feeling happy for his friend, Drake only felt envy. One night, while the two were enjoying drinks at their favorite bar, Connor sensed the tension in his friend. Reaching into his pocket, he handed Drake a business card.
"'There's someone who can help you,' goes by the name of Miss L. She helped me to get where I am. I owe it all to her." Drake snatched up the card, his eyes roving hungrily over the gleaming gold letters. Connor's expression was one of concern. "'Just be careful, man. Her price is steep.'" The next day, Drake followed the address written on the card, leading him to a palatial townhouse downtown.
As he approached, the door swung open on its own. A melodic voice called out, "'Come in. Come in. I've been expecting you.'" Wearily, Drake stepped through the threshold, marveling at the opulence of his surroundings. He followed the voice into a sitting room, where a woman lounged on a velvet chaise.
She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, voluptuous and slender, with simmering red-gold hair cascading down her back, jade-green eyes, and porcelain-like skin. She wore an ivory pantsuit, golden jewelry gleaming under the light. This was Miss L. She smiled at him, and Drake sank into an armchair across from her. Miss L spoke as if she had all the time in the world.
She already knew who he was and why he was there. Her calm demeanor unsettled him as she explained her offer. I don't take money. What I take is time. Confused, Drake asked, Time? Yes, time, she replied. But not just any time. I take time off your natural lifespan, she chuckled, her eyes gleaning with something dark. Your friend Connor was able to haggle me down in one month.
He promised to create a life-size portrait and a marble statue of me. Well, I simply couldn't resist. Drake's skepticism grew, but Miss L leaned in closer, her gaze intense. I'll do you one better. One single day of your life, Drake.
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Chapter 3: Who is Miss L and what deal does she offer Drake?
Just one. And in exchange, you'll have everything you've ever wanted.
Fame, riches, endless adoration. Still unsure, Drake hesitated. One day... That's all, she assured him. Her voice had a melodic but dangerous edge to it. And when you agree, I won't collect for ten years. You'll live gloriously for a decade.
But after that, I'll come back for what's mine.
Without fully understanding why, Drake extended his hand and accepted. Deal, he said, his voice a little too eager. Miss L leaned back, a satisfied smile on her face. Then expect a surprise in the morning. That night, Drake lay in bed, restless, his mind racing. He hardly slept. But by 10 a.m. the next morning, his phone rang.
It was the head of a record label who had seen one of Drake's videos and wanted to sign him. His heart raced.
This was it.
It had worked. The next 10 years of Drake's life was a whirlwind of fame and indulgence. He had everything he ever dreamed of, luxury, adoration, and power. But with success came excess. Drake gambled, drank, and used drugs. His behavior grew increasingly erratic. He abused his staff and took advantage of anyone who came in his way.
Worst of all was the event with Natalie, a young girl who had tried to stand up for herself. Drake's actions led to her tragic death, and yet the media turned against her. They called her a liar, and in the end, the girl took her own life. As the years went on, Drake became more corrupt. Even Connor, his once closest friend, couldn't stand him anymore and severed all ties.
Alone, Drake revealed in his power, his monstrous ego growing with every passing year. One night, after a late recording session, Drake received a call from an unknown number. Thinking it was his manager, he answered. A familiar, velvety voice echoed through the phone. Hello, Drake. Long time no see. Drake froze. He recognized the voice instantly. Time's up, Drake.
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Chapter 4: What happens to Drake after he accepts Miss L's offer?
I heard concerning things about you. Gambling, drinking, mistreating others. Is this the legacy you want to leave? Drake scoffed. I'm just living my life. Who cares about anyone else? Miss L's gaze hardened. Even Natalie?
drake stiffened but his response was cold it was her fault she shouldn't have been out walking when i was drunk she begged me to stop but i knew what she wanted she killed herself that's not my problem miss l's eyes turned to ice and she checked the time one minute to midnight she murmured drake's smug grin faltered as he began to feel the weight of his sins Do you regret any of it?
Miss L asked softly, her voice dark. No. Drake answered without hesitation. I'd do it all again. Miss L smiled, twisting into something far more sinister. That's all I needed to hear. The clock struck midnight, and the room seemed to shift. Drake was suddenly seized by excruciating pain, his body feeling as if it were being torn apart.
As if he looked down, his body started to disintegrate into a wisp of black smoke. He collapsed on the floor, gasping in horror as Miss L stood above him, her appearance transforming into something monstrous.
ears elongated her features sharp and angular and her eyes glowed like hellfire her skin became even paler her hair whipping around as though caught in an invisible wind she towered over him her grin widening i knew from the moment i saw you drake she said softly you were a wretch undeserving of life a blemish of humanity Drake tried to speak, but terror had seized his throat.
He could only watch as his body continued to disappear. Misselle knelt, her voice cold and mocking. Care to know which day I took from you, Drake?
It was the day you were born.
Drake's mind raced, full of regret. For all he had done, Misselle's voice echoed in his fading consciousness. Your greatest desire was to be remembered. But no one will remember you now. He will never have existed. As his head finally began to fade, Drake's last words were a desperate, Who? What? Are you? Misselle's voice was the last thing he heard, filled with cruel amusement.
I have been called many things, but you may know me as Lian Shi. I am the one who takes what's most precious when you dare to covet what you cannot earn.
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Chapter 5: How does Drake's story end and what is the moral?
And when you've outlived your usefulness, I make sure no one remembers your name.
Have you ever promised something that was too good to be true? Did you agree to do it anyway? If so, tell us your story by sending us an email at somethingscaryatsnarled.com. Sometimes it's the smallest things that hide the darkest secrets, like in this story inspired by Alicia. It was 2010 when my aunt, in her mid-20s, moved into her new apartment.
She had rented it from a friend who inherited the place after his grandmother passed away a couple of years before. The apartment was charming. The kind of place you could picture yourself settling into. Small, cozy, with a view of the city that felt like a secret. A few weeks after she moved, something strange happened. One day, she found a bouquet of flowers sitting on her doorstep.
They were fresh, vibrant, clearly bought from a flower shop. No card, no delivery notice, just the flowers. At first, she thought it was just a gift from a friend, maybe something to celebrate Dio de los Reyes, which was just around the corner. The thought of someone being kind enough to send her flowers didn't feel strange. It was almost comforting.
But when our family decided to celebrate the holiday at her place, our first time seeing her apartment, that's when the unease began. The moment we walked through the door, I felt it. There was something wrong with the place, something I couldn't put my finger on. But it gnawed at me, like a dark cloud hanging just over my head. The air felt thick. almost suffocating. But it wasn't just me.
My grandmother's reaction told me everything I needed to know. She stepped into the apartment, froze, and then her face drained of color. Her eyes darted around like she was searching for something. Or someone. I didn't say anything. I thought I was just being paranoid, but I could feel the wrongness deep in my bones, and I wasn't the only one.
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Chapter 6: What eerie event happens in the apartment story inspired by Alicia?
My grandmother turned to my aunt, her voice low, almost frantic. You need to get out, she said. I could see the fear in her eyes. There's something wrong with the house. The words hit like a blow to the chest. My aunt stared at her, confused. What do you mean? There's something here. There's something you can't see, but you can feel it, can't you?
She stepped forward, her hand trembling as she clutched my aunt's arm. Has anyone been here before us? No, my aunt answered, her voice small. A silence settled over us, and then my grandmother's voice cut through the air like a knife. Did anyone send you anything? My aunt's face changed, her eyes widened, and for a second, I thought she might faint. She froze, caught in the question.
She didn't want to say it aloud, but I could see she was terrified. She finally spoke, her voice shaking. There were flowers, a few weeks ago. Someone left them on my doorstep. I felt my stomach drop. The same flowers, the ones that had been so innocuous at first, now felt like a signal. Like something was brewing just beneath the surface. Something dark and malevolent.
My grandmother didn't want to waste a second. She looked my aunt in the eye and said, Get rid of them.
Now. Someone is watching you. They want you gone. Someone is jealous, envious. They despise you.
The words rattled around in my mind. My cousin and I exchanged a glance, our unease growing. We knew what we had to do next. We left the apartment to look up the flower shop where the bouquet had come from. We didn't think it would be much of a lead. After all, flowers are flowers.
But the more we thought about it, the more we realized how strange it was that those flowers had been left there without a trace. No delivery, no note, no explanation. It wasn't the kind of thing you just forget. It took us a while, but we tracked it down. The flower shop was tucked away in an old part of the city, like it was trying to hide itself.
It was small, rundown, and barely noticeable, like the kind of place you would think was long forgotten. But the real shock hit when we discovered the shop had been closed for over 10 years. 10 years? ! How could that be? How could there be a fresh bouquet from a store that had been out of business for a decade? We stood outside the shop, trying to process the information.
My head spun with questions, each one darker than the last. Who had sent the flowers and why? There was something deeply wrong about this. If the flowers weren't from the past, then where had they come from? Who had placed them on her doorstep and why? My stomach churned as I thought about the possibilities.
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