Happy New Year my spooky friends! As we all just celebrated ringing in 2025, we can't help but wonder what the future holds for each of us. With so many horrors lurking around us, making it to the year end seems uncertain. We must be grateful for every moment we have, because the end of the world could be just a blink away. And the countdown to midnight might be the last we ever hear. First, stitched together, then torn apart Followed by something is watching you Finally in our last story, the sound of torture Subscribe: https://bit.ly/subSNARLED Watch the latest: https://youtube.com/watch?playlist&list=PLlt49G0M7dfhhFe79kdPucjYzWv4CK8H1&index=1 Follow us EVERYWHERE: https://facebook.com/watchsomethingscary/ https://facebook.com/getsnarled/ https://instagram.com/wearesnarled/ https://twitter.com/wearesnarled Follow Blair: TikTok: https://tiktok.com/@blairbathory Instagram: https://instagram.com/blairbathory/ Facebook: https://facebook.com/blairbathory1 Twitter: https://twitter.com/blairbathory Pinterest: https://pinterest.com/BlairBathory About SNARLED: Your home for scary stories, from urban legends to true tales of murder, mystery and the unknown. If you have Something Scary to tell us, send it to [email protected]. More about the show! • Go to SomethingScary.com to check out the awesome Something Scary Merch. We’ve got something for everyone, from hoodies to hats to writer’s notebooks. • Do you want to connect with other people who love horror and all things Something Scary? Join our Patreon and you get members only access to our Discord. And you can chat with all the other horror lovers. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Full Episode
Losmachen? Können wir. Vormachen, mitmachen, stark machen? Können wir. Wahr machen, möglich machen, schön machen, Freude machen, Sinn machen? Können wir. Pause machen? Können wir. Platt machen, ganz machen, neu machen, Mut machen, gut machen, besser machen? Können wir. Und Karriere machen?
Na klar, können wir. Was du aus deiner Zukunft auch machst. Wir können alles, was kommt. Das Handwerk.
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. Happy New Year, my spooky friends. We are all just now celebrating ringing in 2025. But we can't help but wonder what the future holds for each of us.
With so many horrors lurking around us, making it to the end of the year seems uncertain. We must be grateful for every moment we have, because the end of the world could be just a blink away. And the countdown to midnight might be the last we ever hear. Zuerst gestrichen, dann zerbrochen. Danach wird etwas, das dich anschaut. Letztendlich, in unserer letzten Geschichte, der Geruch der Tötung.
Before we get started, I also wanted to ask if you had a chance to check out our merch shop. It's filled with lots of awesome new products. Beanies, blankets and beer mugs. No, I think they're just coffee mugs, but whatever your beverage of choice, go to somethingscary.com to check it out now. We also have a whole new collection called Camp Scary with fun t-shirts, hats and beanies.
So, wanna hear something scary? Manche Türen sollten nie geöffnet werden, egal wie real der Schmerz sich fühlt. Wie in dieser Geschichte, die von Ishida inspiriert wurde. I wasn't sure about the time. I opened my eyes. The floor was cold. My back was pressed against the bathroom tiles. My legs sprawled out in front of me like a discarded mannequin.
My body felt heavy, like I had been there for hours or longer. I sat up slowly, the harsh light buzzing overhead, making my head throb. Das letzte, was ich erinnert habe, war das Party. Das bizarre Basement-Party in dem alten Brownstone-Bilding. Neues Jahrsabend. Meine Freunde sagten, es sei nur ein Thema. Das Ende der Welt?
Die Art von Sache, die Hipster zusammengefasst haben, um ironisch zu sein. Aber es fühlte sich nicht ironisch an. Die Masken, die Klamotten, das Lachen in diesem hohen, dröhnenden Ruhm. Es fühlte sich falsch an. Selbst satanisch. Ich konnte nicht erinnern, wie ich da war oder warum ich so lange geblieben bin. Jemand hat mir einen Kaffee gegeben. Dann nichts, nur schwarz. Jetzt war ich hier.
I pulled myself up, using the sink for balance. My reflection stared back, ghost pale and slick with sweat. Hair stuck to my face. My shirt was damp and clinging to my body. I looked at the water-streaked tap, needing something, anything to shake me awake. But as I reached for it, I heard something. A growl. It came from somewhere deep in the walls. My chest tightened. It froze.
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