Jason Hill

speaker

612 appearances 1 recordings 1 series first heard Jul 2026 last heard 5 Jul

Jason Hill’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.

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recordings per month · last 12 months

Recordings per month over the last 12 months — 1 in all, peaking in Jul 2026 with 1.

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Chilling Tales for Dark Nights — A Horror Fiction Anthology and Scary Stories Series Podcast · 469: Episode 469 - "Collector's Curse" - Chilling Tales for Dark Nights · 5 Jul 2026 podcast

I took a deep breath to gather a measure of coherency, and said, Can I have another vodka, please?

To allay any possible concerns, I waited until the attendant had pushed a service trolley further down the aisle before I slammed the last inch of tepid vodka out of the dog that bit me.

My gourd rose as the plane yawled violently to port, and then leveled out and plowed ahead.

I slumped against the window, tingling all over and sweating like I was in a sauna.

The motion sickness had really worked me over, more so than the effects of the drink.

I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, the windows were dusky red and going dark.

My neighbor snored gently beside me.

The plane shuddered sideways in heavy turbulence, and that did it for me.

I unbuckled and lurched from my seat, squeezing none too gently past my seatmate, whose snoring continued without so much as a hitch.

The nearest facilities were occupied, and a young couple of women were waiting their turn.

I pushed past them and made my way along the aisle to the rear of the plane where, thankfully, the sole lavatory was vacant.

I slipped inside and shot the bolt home and dropped to my knees over the toilet,

Jaw heaving, hugging the edge of the bowl like a childhood pet.

The plane shook.

My head knocked hard against the plastic wall.

I vomited a gush of acrid bile, spilling through a sluice.

I clung to the bowl and made animal pleas for mercy.

I tried to gather my thoughts, but it was as if my brain had turned to glass, and the booze was a sledgehammer.

I could feel the shattered pieces rattling in my skull, each reflecting the reflection of another in a dizzying kaleidoscope of images.

Oh God, I said, and vomited again.

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