Group 4 Created with Sketch.

Alice isn't Dead Part One: Omelet

Play Audio
Add to Playlist
Share Report
Found on these Playlists
8 of the Best Podcasts like The Black Tapes Can't get enough of your favorite supernatural journalist? Vurbl has compiled 8 of the best podcasts to satiate your itch for the creepy, uncanny, or simply just the strange. Whether it's the weird radio broadcasts coming from a strange small town or a therapy session recorded by a doctor for the supernatural, Vurbl hopes you enjoy these clips from 8 podcasts like The Black Tapes. Vurbl Paranormal: Tales of the Weird, Mysterious & Spooky
Full Description
Back to Top
Keisha has her first terrifying encounter on the road as she tries to find her missing wife, Alice. She meets two men at a diner- Earl and a man with a hat with the word Thistle on it. By the end of the night, it will be the end of the road for one of them.
Back to Top
We are nothing. He was waiting for me in the parking lot. He was holding Earl now. Earl seemed to be awake again, but that this old man was holding him too tightly for him to move. The outside lights and a gas station weren't working anymore. The two men were shadows against the harsh light of the diner windows. People eating waffles and sausages and shit. The embrace was almost tender, but there was nothing tender about. The man with the yellow fingernails. His grip was strong, and the truck driver couldn't move, couldn't shout. They both stared at me. Earl's eyes were wide, struggling with the vision of the future without him in it. The man with the yellow nails, his eyes were flat, like a bad painting of a face. They both stared at me, and then the man with the yellow nails, he took a bite out of Earl, tore out a chunk of flesh right at the artery in his left armpit. And Earl began to bleed. He didn't move, but only whimpered. A little tear started falling from his staring eyes, but he didn't move. The other thing, whatever it was, it was not a man, dug his fingers into the wound and pulled out bits of Earl the way he had picked up the egg with the same flat movement, the nothing demeanor. This was not a meal, this was not something that he had to do in order to survive. It was a demonstration that this old man he wanted me to know, jesus. Right then I knew. I ran back to the truck. Of course I love the doors. Of course, of course, I pulled out of the parking lot as fast as a truck that size will go. Which is not fast enough in a situation like that. Of course, of course I cried, Alice. Of course I did. Behind me in the mirror I could still see the two figures, could see the distant shadow of Earl dying without a friendly face in sight. The only person who could help him driving herself away to safety, and just the company of a monster to accompany him and his dissipation. I couldn't see details anymore. Those were in my memory. Mhm. Flat and grassy. I think it's dark now and the darkness is fast here. It really has a depth to it keeps going. I didn't think that dark could have a bottom until I saw a dark that didn't like that. I've seen that this woman again. I've seen him again and again behind the bathrooms at rest stops in snack. I like gas stations sitting alone at the biggest booths of the smallest roadside bars, places with one kind of beer on the menu, and video poker in the bathroom, by the toilet. Something brutal and clumsy in his movements. Like he doesn't understand how any of him works. And sharp teeth not sharp enough to be fangs but not human either. And yellow fingernails, not cigarette, yellow but translucent yellow just below the surface. He hasn't talked to me again but I've been seeing him and he knows it. He wants me to know he's following me. Okay. I don't know who this. I won't say man, he isn't a man. I don't know what he is. Do you know Alice? Is this why you left? But was it something else? Yeah. Was it me? Yeah. And now here the road between two places. I've never heard of. Travel size deodorant and unusual height closer to the night sky than I am to any other human. A night sky that seems gorgeous and heartbreaking. Even though it's not it's not anything. It just isn't. Where are you Alice? Why can't I find you? I'll keep driving this truck. I'll keep wandering this country. I'm going to find you. I will. Hopefully. I'll do it before that. This old man finds me. Every time I look behind, I worry that the headlights are c or him and as strange dirty hands are on the wheel, pointing them at me, going faster and faster. This better be worth it Alice. Mhm. Nothing ever could be, mm.