Tag Archives: Anton Scheller

Narration of “Know Thy Neighbour”

Nearly two years ago I posted my short story “Know Thy Neighbour” on Reddit’s NoSleep community. Strange things happen on the internet, because somehow, about a year later, Craig of Chilling Tales for Dark Nights discovered the story and managed to win amazing voice actress Lynne Darlington to narrate the main voice and Jeff Clement to speak the male voice and do sound design and post-production. The result is a chilling and wonderful narration and now I want to congratulate particularly Lynne, and also Craig and Jeff, as their narration and with it an excerpt of my story will be featured in the next edition of one of the reference works of voice acting.

If you haven’t yet – listen in, to “Know Thy Neighbour”:

It just won’t stop ringing

It was always there. When I was young it came rarely, maybe when I was close to crossing the street and hadn’t looked left and right yet, or when I left a sharp knife on the kitchen counter, or that time when I was at the supermarket and there was a man that kept following me for four or five aisles, until I found mom again.

I think it somehow connects to my intuition. I’ve heard others describe that they can feel a shiver on the back of their spine, or that the hair on their arms stands up when they are nervous. For me the only time the hair stands up is when I’m cold.

And else, when I’m scared, there is the bell.

I can’t remember the first time I heard it. The first memory I have of hearing it, when I was at my grandmothers’ place at the strange round pile of stones, and I was digging through the stones to look for rabbit babies, when it was ringing, thundering in my ears, I wasn’t surprised or scared. I must have heard it before. It started ringing, loud and clear, and when I kept digging it got louder, as if a huge church bell was slowly moved closer to me, ringing more vigorously and faster with every single stone that I pulled to the side.

Maybe grandma heard the bell too. I remember she came running, screaming for me to get away from the well. I was on top of some of the stones. And the stones started moving. And grandma grabbed my arm, but my legs, they fell with the stones and hit against the wall. I remember how grandma’s arm shivered when she pulled me out of the hole. She was old then already, maybe 60 or 70, and she was the same thin that she has always been in my memory.

“Hold onto me,” she said. “Hold onto me.”

And below us, far below, I heard the stones hitting a hard floor. Continue reading

Life in the Mirror

The apartment seemed as if it was made just for me. I had a bed and two shelves. The apartment lacked bed and shelves but had everything else – tables, chairs, a sofa. My bed was exactly 1.6 meters in width – and the tiny bedroom a perfect match.

There were two things I didn’t like. The first, of course, was the lack of a dedicated bathroom. The shower cabin was in the kitchen and the toilet in a small room off the balcony. The second thing I didn’t like was the mirror in the bedroom.

It’s not that I don’t like mirrors. But in a room just barely big enough for the bed, with walls to all sides, there was something disturbing in having one of the walls as just one large mirror. It felt misplaced and odd like a lone, smiling stranger standing in the middle of a desert road.

The first night I was tired from the move, every muscle in my body seemed to be aching and my body was still sticky and sweating even after two showers and four hours since the last box. Still I first lay awake for two or three hours, rolling from one side to the other and hoping for the salvation of sleep. Continue reading

“I have just one condition.”

“Look,” Jeremy said. “I know how high rents normally are. I’m letting the room below market value. I have just one condition.”

“What?” I asked.

“Can I trust you?” he asked.

“Sure.”

Jeremy smiled.

“Good. My only condition is that you never step into the third bedroom.”

“I guess that’s okay.”

“I’m serious. The door is locked anyway, so don’t even try. But no matter what you hear or smell or see, no matter what happens, even if the door is unlocked – you can never open the door. And especially you can never step inside.”

“What is…”

“Don’t ask.” Continue reading

She tried to convince me that she’s not a figment of my imagination and I played along.

The young pale man sat upright in his chair. When I entered the room Dalton only glanced at me for a moment. His eyes seemed to be focused on the corridor.

When the door shut his eyes flicked around the room. Finally his pupils honed in on me.

“She’s not here, right?”

“We are alone,” I said.

“Okay. Okay. Sometimes I’m just worried that she comes in. She likes open doors.”

“You are talking about your girlfriend?”

“No. Well, yes, in a way. I imagined her as my girlfriend when I was a teenager.”

“And you are now 21?”

“Yes.”

“And you still see your imagined girlfriend?”

Dalton nodded.

“She just didn’t want to leave.”

“You don’t mean that metaphorically? You are really talking about an imagined girlfriend?”

“Yes. Her name is Arielle. You know, like Arielle the mermaid because I had a crush on her.”

“So this girlfriend is imaginary but she is bound by walls and doors?”

“Not really,” Dalton said. “I mean, she didn’t use to but now she pretends that she is.” Continue reading