Midnight Narrative - Episode 8 Part 2 - "Living Canvas and Dead Ends"

Episode 8 Part 2 - Living Canvas and Dead Ends

Chapters:
00:00 - Intro
00:20 - My friend and I got a job cleaning strange graffiti from an abandoned building. We barely made it out alive.

Tonight on Midnight Narrative, we venture into an abandoned building where the walls hold a terrifying secret. We join a pair of cash-strapped friends who think they’ve landed the perfect, high-paying temp job: painting over some stubborn, recurring graffiti in an old flea market. But as the dark, tar-like fluid begins to move, spread, and form horrifying human faces, they realize they aren't just cleaning walls—they are uncovering a grisly, murderous cover-up that refuses to stay buried.

Stories featured in this episode:

My friend and I got a job cleaning strange graffiti from an abandoned building. We barely made it out alive. (u/BadandyTheRed) https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/

If you would like me to narrate your story, please submit to: midnightnarrative666@gmail.com

Art Credit: Instagram @unexpectedspecter

Support the channel:
Like, subscribe, and hit the bell icon to be notified when the next narrative drops into the midnight hour.

#horrorstories   #nosleep   #midnightnarrative   #creepypasta   #scarystories   #urbanlegends   #scarystoriesfromreddit   #redditstories

Transcript

0:18

We found a window, but it was black on the other side. I had a bad feeling about what that implied. Suddenly Jake was next to me, holding a brick he had scavenged from somewhere and readying it. Here's hoping, he said while hurling it at the glass. I was happy to hear the satisfying sound of shattering glass. But horrified when instead of daylight coming in, waves of black paint began pouring from the window. Are you kidding me? Jake shouted in disbelief. Come on, let's get away from this one. Maybe if we find those other guys, they can tell us what the hell is really going on, and how we can get out. I said while moving on. Eventually we heard something near the west wing and followed the dark halls to it. It sounded like low, muffled gasps of pain, and when we emerged into the room, we saw something horrifying. Roger was there, splayed out and cut open by something. His body was positioned like a morbid statue, and a terrible wound was gouged into his torso, which like it had almost disemboweled him. Horrifically he seemed to still be alive. We approached slowly, and he mumbled a weak groan of agony. Holy shit, what happened here? Jake managed to spit out, and I echoed the sentiment. We got closer, and Roger's eyes finally rolled forward out of the back of his head and faced us. He groaned and mumbled, and we could tell he was trying to speak. Go, not safe. Nathan is here, but some something else. He fell silent, but his eyes remained open. He was dead. Oh hell man, what happened to him? Jake asked in a panic. I had no idea either, and was trying to reconcile just what we had seen. We looked around in paranoid confusion when we heard something that terrified us even more than the silence. Footsteps. Did you bring the insurance? I asked Jake in a terrified whisper. There was a long pause while I looked at him and my heart sank. I did, yeah. It's just in the van, he said while flashing a pain smile. Of course, I groaned, not really knowing if having a gun like the insurance would help against sentient paint and whatever things were at work in the building. Well come on then, we can't stay here. Let's try and find a way out, Jake nodded, and together we crept out of the room, leaving the bloodied body of Roger behind us. We found another window, and I didn't see any shifting, monstrous visage behind it, so I figured that was a start. I found a large piece of rebar nearby and I hefted it up. Nice man, let's give it a shot, crack it open. Jake whispered, I held the bar and swung as hard as I could. Glass shattered and the darkness behind the glass gave way to a more natural glow of twilight. We could get out this way. I used the bar to clear the glass out of the frame. It was a tight fit, but I figured we could both get out of the building and the slot before calling Mayhew and telling him the bad news. Just as the way was clear and I was pulling myself up and out of the building, I heard footsteps again. I looked down the hall and saw a figure emerging from one of the adjacent rooms. There was a low groaning, creaking sound, like the rusty hinge of a door. The terrible sound echoed as the figure walked along in what looked like pain. Shit, move, move, move, Jake shouted at me, and I hoisted myself up just in time to meet a dark wall of human faces. I sat there straddling the wall and looking in disbelief and horror as the tortured faces of dozens of people stared back at me. All was one, they wailed a pain cacophony that nearly ruptured my eardrums. I fell off the window sill and landed hard, but the pain in my body from landing was secondary to the pain in my ears. The awful sound, those monstrous half faces, bellowed stunned me. I stared up dumbled at the broken window as if expecting them to be gone, but the leering faces looked down at me, and I swear they started to laugh. Before I knew what was happening, I could hear again, and I heard Jake shouting at me and hoisting me back to my feet. Come on, man, fucking come on. He pulled me up and we started to sprint away from the wall faces. When I looked back, I saw the figure slowly moving towards us. A faint glow of inky tendrils trailed behind him, covering the walls, floors, and ceiling with more of the terrible paint. We rushed on, but the path led to a large double door that was padlocked and barred. Oh shit, what now? Jake said, struggling for words and as scared and desperate as I was feeling. My mind was finally recovering, and I noticed we passed two doors on our attempted flight from the building. This way, I told him as we moved reluctantly back towards our pursuer. We ducked into one of the rooms and closed the door just as I heard the awful creaking and groaning sound getting closer. The room was small and had old filing cabinets and two busted down desks. We took cover under one of them and tried to stifle our strained breathing as we waited to see if the thing would follow us in. For several minutes we sat there in panicked anticipation. As we waited, I saw something in a half closed drawer. It looked like a small silver locket. I reached into the drawer and it made a slight noise that Jake nearly freaked out about. I shrugged apologetically and removed the locket. I opened it and saw the portraits of two young women. I turned it over in my hand and saw that the locket had likely been a gift. There was an engraving which read To Lily, my sister, and my muse, love Sam. What's that? Jake asked. Not sure what it is or how it got here, but something about the face in this locket feels weirdly familiar. Jake frowned. Alright, man, just put it on or get possessed by some ghost girl. I'm not dealing with that tonight. I agreed and nearly laughed at the absurdity of our situation. For a moment I thought it might be safe to leave, that maybe we had given our pursuer the slip, and I was just about to stand up when the door handle rattled. The door opened with a terrible creak, and we both knew that thing was in the room now. The smell of old paper was replaced by the sickly, sweet smell of something rotting, as well as the strong fumes of fresh paint following close behind. I couldn't bring myself to look over the desk. It was in here now. Jake sat next to me, shivering, but trying to stay silent too. His eyes bulged suddenly and I stole a glance at what he was looking at. It was a snaking tendril of paint that moved past the desk we hid behind and slowly climbed up the adjacent wall. We heard shambling steps in the room and a terrible gasping sound like a person struggling to breathe. Eventually the paint on the wall began to take shape and form into the silhouette of a face. Jake shook his head and closed his eyes. I knew we shouldn't look, but if we stayed in place we would have no choice but to. I had an idea then, it was a bad idea, but we were in trouble if we didn't do something. As the face began to form, I knew whatever it was would see us, so I leapt forward and put my back to the face to try and cover its eyes. My plan would have worked, but I tripped and stumbled, knocking a small stack of papers over in the effort. I held my breath, but I heard the footsteps getting closer again. I knew the thing was too close, I had to do something. I jumped up and shouted Nathan, wait. The figure stopped moving and stood looking at me. In the dim light I finally saw its features, and it took all my willpower to meet its gaze. It was a person, a middle aged man, bald and with a thin beard. As for eye color I couldn't tell. All that showed were fathomless black pits of swirling ink that looked just like the sentient paint we had been trying to cover up. Whatever was happening to this place, it seems to have possessed one of the cleaners, and I had no idea what I was really looking at just then. There was a terrible pause, and I thought I might have made a mistake. I had a feeling it would rush me and have enveloped Jake and me in that terrible paint. Instead I heard a choking, gasping noise, followed by the figure bending over and retching. And the next moment, torrents of the writhing paint left his body. Then the thing that had once been Nathan looked at me again. It cleared its throat and spoke. You two, more people may you brought to destroy my work. You can't be allowed to live, you can't be allowed to do this. The figure lurched forward, and I held up my hands. What wait We were just hired to clean the place. The thing reached out its arms, and snakes of paint began to unfurl and reach out. I thought we were dead, but I reached for the trinket I just had found and held it out. Wait is this was this you? Please tell us who are we really speaking to? The thing stared at me for another moment, then at Jake as he silently rose to look at what was happening. Where did you find that? it rasped. Oddly the thing's voice softened after seeing the locket. Yes, my name was Samantha. Samantha Gardner. I used to work here selling paintings that my sister Lily and I would make. The people loved our work, and for a long time this was a joyful place. Then that lecherous bastard, Mayhew, bought it and started extorting all the vendors. He started raising our rent for no reason, kicking vendors out who had been here for years. Just because they would not kiss his ass. Worst of all, what he did to the female vendors, the terrible face of the puppet Nathan went slack, and I heard bones crunching as a fist balled up. I shuddered as I considered the entity's anger. After a while, enough of us got together and tried to get him ousted, but he took things to an extreme. He knew I wouldn't let it go. He invited me here to talk it over and try to come to an arrangement. Then he killed me. My sister was horrified, she tried to get the police involved, but they couldn't prove anything. Mayhew ensured it all looked like an accident. I thought it was over. I was dead, but somehow Lily used her paints to bring me back. I don't know how it worked or how I'm here again, but what I do know is I will get that bastard for what he did to all of us. Hey ghost man or lady, we only took this as a temp job. Mayhew sucks as far as we are concerned. He didn't tell us any of this, so do you think if you let us go we could, I don't know, maybe rough him up for you or something? No need to hurt us, right? Jake asked. The figure paused for a moment, as if considering. There was a brief glimmer of hope, but my heart sank when the figure shook its head. No, I'm sorry. You are too valuable to me as vessels. The others couldn't leave, this one is too broken. I don't need to trust someone who works for Mayhew when I can just wear them. Don't move, it's less painful if you don't resist. The creature staggered toward us again, arms outstretched, the terrible paint bleeding from its mouth. I pulled Jake away as a gout of black paint sprayed out from the thing and nearly covered him. We recovered quickly and burst out of the room, running away as fast as we could. I looked around as we fled and saw that the walls were covered in more of the paint. It was dripping from the ceiling now, like blood from a wound. We rushed back through the main hall and witnessed a horrifying sight. The walls were lined with more of the black paint, and each surface the faces of the dead writhed in different states of decay. The sentient paint surged and writhed over everything like a canvas of lost souls. We had to get out, but we knew that thing was still after us. I had another idea. It was a bad one, but we didn't have many options. Jake, do you have a lighter? I asked him. Yeah, man, why? What's the plan? He handed it to me. I considered just how crazy the idea was, but resolved to go through it when I realized what might happen if we waited. Well, if this is like one big painting, and the canvas is keeping us in, why not burn our way out? We have gallons of paint thinner in the hall that Mayhew left and a light source, and Jake's look of concern changed to a manic, hopeful smile. It's crazy, dangerous and stupid. I love it, let's go. We printed back to the front door, ignoring the terrible wailing coming from the images all around us. We got to the front door and saw the drums of paint thinner nearby. Throw some, I called out to Jake. He doused the door with paint thinner, splashing it everywhere since his eyes were closed, and he didn't want to look at the terrible faces that screamed back at him. Back up, I shouted to him, and he stumbled back a few steps. I opened the lighter, struck a flame, and crossed my fingers. I threw the lighter, and after a moment there was a burst of light as a small fireball flared into life. The stench of burning paint and charred wood was horrible. The faces melted away, then the paint, then parts of the door as the fire spread quickly from surface to surface. Now we just have to get out of the burning building, I laughed, as we saw the smoldering door. Suddenly a terrible wail echoed through the hall, and we saw the twisting form of Nathan being carried aloft by a small wave of living paint. The puppet thing spoke in an enraged voice of the slain painter. You pathetic, monstrous savages, what have you done? My work, my life. You will burn it all down. There will be no justice for us all, no future, no more art. I almost felt bad for the rambling spectre, until the horrible face contorted into a rictus of hatred, and the thang shrieked and charged at us. We had to go. I looked to Jake and he nodded. We both leapt at the burning door, feet outstretched in a synchronized kick. The door smashed open, and we tumbled out into the cold night air, gasped at the fresh air and scrambled away from the burning building. The paint monster continued wailing but could not follow us through the veil flame. As we watched it burn, we saw the outside tendrils of paint begin to wither and dissipate, despite the lack of touching flame. Shall we call nine one one? Jake asked. I considered it for a moment, then heard the shrieks inside of whatever still lingered. Nah, let it burn for a bit. We sat and watched the inferno for a while before we heard a car approaching and saw it was Mr Mayhew. He jumped out of his car and his face went pale. No, no, my building, what happened? He stomped over to us angrily, and Jake looked ready to engage, but I held a handout to stop him and spoke first. So I think a few details were omitted about this project, but I'm guessing we were not supposed to find out before we got turned into demonic meat puppets by the ghost of an artist you murdered. Mayhu looked shocked that I said it out loud. I followed up and pressed my assertion. And you thought we would die in there like the others. What was the insurance policy you had for Roger and Nathan? Was it a lot? How much was ours? Hopefully it was on par with whatever you will get for this place burning down. I flashed a sarcastic smile and he fumed. Mayhew looked indignant and started to respond. No, it's not like that. The job needed to be done to keep me he stopped and corrected quickly. I mean to keep the business safe. The money just helped cover the expenses, it's not my fault they couldn't listen and stay safe. At that point, Jake was done with words, and just as Mahew was looking smug at his own sense of superiority, Jake punched him hard in the face. The big man staggered and fell down. Jake was about to follow up, but I held him back when I saw Mayhew had drawn a gun on us. He looked up at Jake with a bloody nose and a hatred burning in his eyes. I ought to kill you for that, but first responders are probably on the way, and it wouldn't look good for the public. Plus, I think the fire may have contained it. I never thought to try before since I couldn't be sure, didn't want to let it out, but I think it's gone. He looked around and smiled. So I will let y'all leave, but if you so much as say anything about this, I swear I will. I interjected, pulling Jake away from jumping at the man again. Yeah, yeah, we won't. Go to hell you greedy son of a bitch. I pulled Jake away and took a few steps back from Mayhew, who huffed and put his gun away. He mumbled something about lawyers and got back in his car. We just going to let this murderer get away like that? Jake said indignantly. I felt an odd tingling in my pocket and moved the silver locket. I looked at it and smiled. No, it's fine. He can leave, but he won't be escaping justice this time. Jake looked confused, as I bent down to collect a small scrap of paper that lay by his feet. I wrapped the paper around the small locket and felt a disturbing sense of energy. I broke into a run and moved quickly to side up to the Oldsmobile as Mayhew was departing. I slipped the small fragment of paper into the seam of his trunk right before the car sped off. Jake ran up, looking confused. What was that? he asked. I held up a hand and pointed to Mayhew as he drove away. I watched with a smile as lines of black paint started emerging from his trunk. Jake saw it too and his eyes went wide. Wow, man, that's going to be a fun reunion, I nodded my head silently. Jake and I waited for a bit, then turned back to the van as we heard a crashing sound in the distance, followed by gunshots and a scream. Do you think we could get proper jobs as painters just to try it out? Jake shrugged and chuckled. Nah, something else next. Painting sucks.