S11 Ep9: S11E09 - "Clean Slate" - Drew Blood's Dark Tales Podcast

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Drew Blood's Dark Tales — A Horror Fiction Anthology and Scary Stories Podcast 56 min 3 speakers 4 chapters transcribed 29 days ago
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What is the premise of “Clean Slate” and who introduces the story?

Shannon Maldonado 0:00
Perustin pyöräilyvaatteita valmistavan ornotin vuonna 2013. Mielestäni parasta Shopifessa on se, että voimme harjoittaa liiketoimintaa ilman teknistä osaamista. Voimme hallinnoida yrityksen taustajärjestelmiä ja frontendiä sekä myydä verkossa. Vaivatta, jos Shopify olisi pyöräilyvaruste, se olisi mielestäni itse polkupyörä. Sillä asiat hoidetaan ja meidän liiketoimintamme hoituu Shopifissa. Aloita ilmainen kokeilu shopify.com-sivustolla.
Greg Foot 0:35
Kun mietin tulevaa, ajattelen minulle tärkeitä ihmisiä ja sitä, mitä haluan tarjota heille. Nordea Private Bankingissa oma sijoitusjohtajani auttaa tekemään päätöksiä, jotka kestävät aikaa. Näin perheeni pysyy askeleen edellä. Nordea.fi. Kautta PrivatePar.
Burt Sharsteen 0:55
Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.
Drew Blood 0:58
Hey, friends, it's me again. You know what's really easy to do and even easier to forget? Help me out and hit that like button if you're listening on YouTube. If you're listening somewhere else, what the hell? Pop in and give me a thumb. Say hi while you're at it. Helps me a ton with that damn algorithm. And besides, it's always nice to see you there. All right then. Let's hop on that crazy train. OL BOOD!
Drew Blood 1:32
Oh sh
Drew Blood 1:45
Alright, welcome friend. So what's going on? Any holidays or anything I should be aware of? Oh, that's right. Happy National Financial Awareness Day, everyone. Real fun one. We can sit around tonight and just be aware of our financial situations. How's that sound for a good time? Maybe I'll just skip the story and read my electric bill for you. Hmm. For once I agree with you, boy. That's just a little too much horror for these folks. Well, fuck this holiday. Come on inside, friend. Mm. Okay, so do me a favor and visit chillin' tales for dark nights dot com. Click the patrons link in the menu, get the entire catalog ad free, available to download or stream, seven hundred ninety nine a month. Still all Craig shit.
Drew Blood 2:40
Also, feel free to visit me personally over at patreon dot com forward slash through blood. Sign up. Come on, it's a holiday. Live a little. You deserve it. Okay, so tonight we welcome author Michael Page. In this one we join a woman who's never had a single fight with her husband. None that she can remember anyway. So without further delay, from Author Michael Page, I give you clean slate. Grace Merritt almost choked to death on a Saturday morning, roughly two AM. She awoke to a burning anger in her stomach, a sharp twistin' feeling that felt as though her innards were looping into bloody knots. Ignoring it and falling back to sleep was not an option. Vomiting was inevitable. She had been experiencing an awful sore throat for the past two days.
Drew Blood 3:38
This would surely make it worse. Semi sluggishly she forced her body out of bed and awkwardly stumbled into the bathroom. Her knees dropped to the linoleum tiles. She bent over the bowl and stared down its watery throat. Tears flushed her eyes red. What had started as an uncomfortable aching abruptly rose to a cataclysmic wave of agony. Breathing became difficult, and then within the same second, impossible. Panic erupted like a box of firecrackers inside of her. An obstruction of some kind was harshly pushing up her esophagus and Sweat washed over her. She choked out a few horrid croaking noises, her nails scratched and bent into the white ceramic edges. The obstruction was cutting, excavating the walls of her throat as it continued its horrible climb.
Drew Blood 4:41
Her lungs screamed furiously for air. She forced two fingers past her uvula and prodded the back of her throat in a desperate attempt to find. Force out the blockage. Finally, in a miraculous effort, the foreign obstruction came loose. Blood and stomach acid filled the toilet bowl, followed by a loud plop. She sputtered out a few desperate breaths of phlegm and relief. The pain in her throat could only be described as razor blades coated with salt scraping their way up her windpipe. Once most of her wits were finally reorganized, she brushed away her black hair and peered into the tainted water. Beneath the floatin' layer of the unspeakable matter was an object, oval shaped, and sitting at the bottom of the bowl.

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