Collin Bishop-Karney
speaker
139 appearances
1 recordings
1 series
first heard Nov 2024
last heard Nov 2024
Collin Bishop-Karney’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.
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Appearances
Somewhere outside, a coyote howled, a long, mournful cry that made my skin crawl. I took a deep breath, trying to convince myself that it was nothing, just an animal calling into the night. But there was something in that howl, something that felt wrong.
I lay there, staring at the ceiling, the uneasy feeling growing stronger, as if something unseen was moving closer, slipping through the shadows, inching toward the old trailer. I pulled the blanket tighter around me, wishing desperately for sleep, for the comfort of daylight.
The desert outside was silent, and I couldn't shake the sense that something was watching, something ancient, something malevolent.
just waiting for me to make the wrong move the night seemed endless every moment dragging by in a slow excruciating crawl the trailer was suffocatingly quiet with only the occasional creak of the old structure breaking the silence i kept my eyes shut willing myself to sleep but the uneasy feeling only grew stronger The stillness was suddenly broken by a sound that made my blood run cold.
A soft rustling, like something brushing against the side of the trailer. My heart pounded as I opened my eyes, straining to hear. The rustling grew louder, moving along the wall. And then came the unmistakable sound of footsteps, slow, deliberate, crunching across the dusty ground outside. Panic rose in my chest. I wanted to believe it was just an animal, but deep down, I knew better.
There was something different about these sounds, something that spoke of intent. I forced myself off the couch, moving as quietly as I could toward the kitchen window. My legs felt weak, my body trembling as I reached the window and carefully pulled the curtain aside just enough to see outside.
the porch light cast a dim glow over the yard and for a moment i saw nothing just the empty dusty landscape the vehicles parked in the driveway and the old metal trash cans but then my eyes caught movement a dark gaunt figure standing just beyond the reach of the light It was coyote-like, but wrong in every conceivable way.
Its fur was matted, hanging in clumps from its bony frame, and its legs seemed twisted, as if they had been broken and never healed properly. The creature's head turned slowly, and I saw its eyes, glowing a sickly orange-red, staring directly at me. A wave of nausea hit me. The malevolence in those eyes was palpable, like it was staring straight into my soul.
I stumbled backward, my breath caught in my throat. I had to tell someone. I had to warn them. I rushed to my mother's room, shaking her awake. She groaned, annoyed, until she saw the look on my face. What is it? She whispered. Her voice filled with sleep. There's something outside, I managed to say, my voice trembling. She sat up, her expression shifting from irritation to concern.
It's probably just an animal, she said, but before she could say anything else, we both heard it, a distorted, unnatural scream that pierced the silence of the night. The sound was like nothing I had ever heard. Half human, half animal, filled with pain and rage. My mother's eyes widened, and I could see the fear settle in. She quickly got up, rushing to wake my father.
The trailer was soon filled with hushed voices. Everyone gathered in the hallway, listening as the creature outside began to thrash against the ground. its guttural moans growing louder. My grandfather moved with a calmness that seemed almost unreal, retrieving his shotgun from a drawer and loading it with ash-coated bullets. He whispered prayers under his breath as he approached the door.
I watched, frozen in place, as he swung the door open, the cold night air rushing in. The creature was there, standing at the edge of the porch light, its twisted form barely visible. My grandfather fired, the blasts echoing into the night, but the creature moved, faster than anything I had ever seen, disappearing into the darkness.
We stood there in silence, the acrid smell of gunpowder hanging in the air. The creature was gone, but the sense of dread remained. My grandmother's trembling voice broke the silence, trying to comfort us, but the fear was still there, etched into each of our faces. My aunt whispered that it saw us, that it knew who we were now.
The rest of the night passed in tense silence, each of us afraid of what might come next, our only hope lying in the first light of dawn. The air was heavy as dawn began to break, the first rays of sunlight filtering through the thin curtains, painting the room in soft, muted light. None of us had slept.
we had stayed huddled together in the hallway each of us listening for any sign that the creature might return my grandfather sat near the door the shotgun across his knees his eyes fixed on the small window as if daring the thing to show itself again
my mother's arm was around my shoulders her presence the only thing keeping my fear from swallowing me whole when the sunlight finally broke through there was a collective sense of relief the darkness had retreated and with it some of the terror seemed to lift my grandfather stood his joints creaking as he rose and he opened the door
The cold night air had left a bitter chill, but the warmth of the sun was beginning to melt it away. He stepped out onto the porch, his eyes scanning the horizon, the yard, and the space behind the parked vehicles. The ground was scuffed where the creature had stood, dark smears marking the spots where it had dragged its twisted limbs.
My grandmother was the first to speak, her voice barely more than a whisper. We need help. There was no arguing with that. The events of the night had shaken us all, and none of us could pretend otherwise. My grandfather nodded, his expression grim, and after a few moments he stepped back inside, closing the door behind him.
He exchanged a few hushed words with my mother, and soon a decision was made. We would call on the neighbor, a medicine man known for his strength in such matters. My mother picked up the phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed the number. The hours that followed seemed to stretch on forever. Every small noise made me jump, every creak of the trailer sending my heart racing.
It felt as if the malevolent presence of the night before still lingered, hidden just beyond the edges of the light, waiting for its chance to return. When the medicine man finally arrived, I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
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