Isaiah (Host - likely Wendigoon)
speaker
1,018 appearances
1 recordings
1 series
first heard Aug 2026
last heard 2 Aug
Isaiah (Host - likely Wendigoon)’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.
Trend
recordings per month · last 12 monthsRecordings per month over the last 12 months — 1 in all, peaking in Aug 2026 with 1.
Appearances
I begin to panic and the straw grows thicker, lemonade seeping out of it, gushing down my throat, no longer tasting sweet.
I blink and suddenly I'm awake, staring into the dead eyes of God.
Her face split open as a long, thick, black proboscis pushes the mask upward and slides even deeper into my mouth, pushing against the back of my throat.
I try to scream, but I can't.
My vocal cords have long been eaten away.
Her entire face is burrowed clean through with holes, and I can see flittling legs, antennae, and small insects crawling around inside each.
The proboscis pushes deeper, intubating me, and I feel something sour and heavy seep out inside my throat.
I gag and bite down as hard as I can, but the dark, shiny shell of the insectile tube doesn't budge.
It hits me that she must have taken the memory away on purpose.
She wants me to be present for this.
She holds me still as I thrash in her arms, and as I choke, I swear I can see amusement in her wide, hungry eyes.
After what feels like hours, I am exhausted.
I am fitted to her, held to her chest as she feeds me, molds me.
The proboscis in my stomach and pledging in my throat is not invasive anymore.
It is now a necessary part of my anatomy, an organ I would die without, one of many that coil around and push into the holes dug into my skin.
It was painful, excruciatingly so, but not anymore.
Her limbs remain locked around my body possessively, and as I stay there, held and gestated in the dark, I come to understand.
My mind is no longer just my own.
I share it with her now, and I see everything there is to see.
I see my town through a million yellow-hued eyes.
Showing 941–960 of 1,018 · page 48 of 51
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