The Withering

In the intriguing world of the supernatural, meet Chance, a prodigious spirit whisperer, and Detective Tyler, renowned for her vast knowledge of the paranormal. 

Together, they confront a mystifying case straddling the tangible and the ethereal. 
Visualize the anguish of parents, observing their daughter, Carolyn, ensnared in a relentless coma, an aftermath of an innocent Ouija board session. 

The looming question is: Is this merely an unexplained medical condition or is Carolyn ensnared by the chilling legend of 'The Withering', where dark entities imprison souls, causing their earthly vessels to deteriorate?

Grasping at straws, the desperate family engages Chance and Tyler, hoping to unearth the truth. 

In a high-stakes séance at Carolyn's residence, unexpected revelations arise, suggesting they may have ventured too deep. 

Dive into “The Withering” as Chance and Detective Tyler pass through the Doorway to Darkness.

For more horror, visit caseyburrin.com.

Transcript

Welcome to Doorway to Darkness. Horror Stories by Casey Burrin. Narrated by the Night Creeper. Please Follow or subscribe on your podcast app of choice. 

Imagine the horror of a family watching their teen daughter trapped in a coma. A coma that began shortly after a seemingly harmless game with a Ouija board. 

Is this just an inexplicable medical anomaly, or has she fallen prey to 'The Withering'? A terrifying legend speaks of souls ensnared by a dark force, leaving their bodies to decay in the mortal realm.

Desperate for answers,  the teen’s family seeks the aid of Chance, a young spirit expert. and Detective Tyler, whose experience with the paranormal is unparalleled. 

Their expertise is put to the test with a case that blurs the lines between the physical and the spiritual.

Together, they must unravel the mystery that lies at the heart of this eerie predicament. As they perform a séance in the very house where the nightmare began, with  the teen’s fragile fate resting just a floor above, they soon realize they might have bitten off more than they can chew.

Dive deep into this captivating narrative and question: Is it the world of medicine or the world of shadows that holds the key to saving the teen?

Join Chance and Detective Tyler for 'The Withering' and journey into a story where seeking answers might just lead to unimaginable horrors they walk together through as the Doorway to Darkness. 

Nineteen-year-old Carolyn fell into a coma after dabbling in spellcraft. Some believe a dark entity stole her soul, keeping her captive as a dormant vessel in the nether. 

As a paranormal private investigator, I’d been tasked with determining whether this was an otherworldly event called The Withering – a sinister fate for naïve black magic amateurs. 

This teen displayed all the hallmarks of The Withering. 

Scads of doctors had examined her. None could figure out why she wouldn’t awaken. Perfect health in every way, Carolyn remained in a deep sleep, an event that happened right after an ill-fated romp with a Ouija board. 

The doctors told the family nothing could be done. But her mother wouldn’t give up. She called us despite protests from her family. What could paranormal investigators do, they told her. It’d only prolong the family’s suffering by holding out hope. 

When I was first approached about Carolyn, I wasn’t convinced she suffered from The Withering. 

Bumps in the night are usually just bats in the attic, or the ghosts people see are hallucinations caused by mold growing around their bathtubs. More times than not, it’s stuff like that. But sometimes, it’s something else. 

Out of pity, I took this case. Me and my business associate, Chance, a 19-year-old kid who is gifted with the ability to commune with the spirits, arrived at the 40-acre estate, complete with a wine cellar, tennis court, and not one, but two swimming pools. 

While driving with Chance to Carolyn’s home, I noticed Chance’s new personality. He funneled through weirdo fashion statements like cravats - whatever that is - and wacko eating habits such as only chowing on shellfish. None of his phases lasted long.

That day, he was on an anti-deodorant kick. 

Even though it was 40 degrees out, I pulled up to Carolyn’s home with the car windows rolled down after Chance’s stench nearly suffocated me as I drove to our destination. 

When we arrived, I parked in the home’s turnaround. I decided to confront Chance about how his stink nearly strangled me on the ride there, but I knew I had to be tactful due to Chance's sensitive nature. My goal was to inform without offending. 

“Chance, you smell so bad, skunks would be afraid you’d spray them,” I said, craning my head out the window, gasping for air.

“I’m natural,” he said. “As God intended in my unaltered state as nature and the divine design intended.”

“God didn’t intend you to asphyxiate me with your body odor,” I said. “Seriously, a bear could track you from 50 miles away.”

“What about parabens?” Chance said.

“Who’s that?” I said. 

“Or triclosans?” he said. 

“The what?” I said. “You stink, Chance!”

I rifled through my bag, finding the small perfume bottle filled with a rose scent. Before he could say anything, I spritzed him all over. 

“Hey, stop!” Chance said. “I don’t want to smell like a woman.”

“Better than smelling like a sasquatch,” I said before spritzing him again. 

“Stop it!” he yelled. “I smell like a bed of roses. Who knows what kind of chemicals are in that perfume? You have no right to do that to me.”

“Listen, we are about to walk into a house with a dying girl inside,” I said. “She’s been in a coma for weeks. Is she in The Withering? I don’t know. But what I do know is her family is devastated because she’s not waking up. And you’ll walk into that house smelling like Big Foot.” 

Chance lowered his head, now looking down at the car’s baseboard. Red splotches welled up on his cheeks. Hives always took over his neck and arms when he became overly dramatic, which was often. 

And now I’d done it. I’d gone too far. Chance is so sensitive that if he accidentally broke a dish, he’d organize support groups for all dishes everywhere. 

“I’m a horrible person,” Chance said with his voice cracking. 

“Chance, honestly,” I said, rubbing the bridge of my nose with my index finger and thumb. I knew what was next, and I only had myself to blame. 

“I’m the worst! How selfish I am!” Chance said. “This poor girl is in The Withering, and here I am smelling like a hairy beast.” 

“We don’t know she’s in The Withering,” I said. “Come on, don’t emotionally vomit all over me. I didn’t mean what I said. It came out all wrong.”

“I’m the embodiment of revolting,” Chance said, shaking his head. “We wear the shield of deodorant out of concern for others, but all I do is think of myself. I shouldn’t even be here since I’m so loathsome.” 

“Kid, listen, it’s not that bad,” I said. “I mean, it’s bad, but it’s not that bad.”

“It’s not?” Chance said.

“Well, it’s not good,” I said. “But hey, you tried something new. It didn’t work out. Lesson learned. Now that I sprayed you, you smell like rose blossoms, so it’s all good. Let’s go inside and figure out what’s going on with this girl.”

“You don’t think I’m horrible?” he said. 

“Never,” I said. 

“You still like me?” he said. 

“Always,” I said. “Well, almost always.”

I felt like that went relatively badly. I’d handled it poorly due to my sour temper that was so off the hook sometimes I once got into a shouting match with a thunderstorm. 

While I’d upset Chance, I’d at least gotten him to smell like a cross between a rose bloom and a grizzly. I decided I’d lay off the kid for now. 

As I exited the car, I dropped the rose perfume bottle in the gravel, shattering it into pieces. 

Chance and me were led to Carolyn’s room where she laid in a coma on her bed. The room was decorated with pictures of herself with her friends. She stood out and yet blended in the same time in all those photos. 

With generic light brown hair and a typical heart-shaped face, the girl seemed like any other kid you’d see, but Carolyn was always in the center of every photo with a sunshine smile that wrapped her face from ear to ear. 

But now as we stood over her in bed, she looked almost dead as her skin seemed more like an old piece of sandpaper and her hair appeared a dishwater brown. 

“What do you think?” her mother, Connie said. “Can you help her?”

I stared into Connie’s hopeful eyes, feeling nothing but sadness. I’d seen that look before so many times. 

“Listen Connie, I’m going to tell you what I tell all my clients,” I said. “I can’t give you any guarantees of outcome, but everything that can be done for her will be done. I can guarantee you that.”

I decided it was time to start the séance as we had no time to waste. 

As we left Carolyn in her bed, Chance accidentally bumped into a bulletin board filled with her photos, causing crash to the floor.

Connie and her husband, Ben led us down the stairs to the home’s ground floor to a side room with a round table where we’d perform the séance. 

As I’d done dozens of times, I sat across from Chance. Ben and Connie sat next to us at the table. My goal was to find out if this was a medical phenomenon that doctors couldn’t figure or a Withering event.

I closed my eyes while we held hands in the séance circle as Chance summoned the spirits. As he was preparing to recede into the nether, I felt a sharp tug on my ponytail, causing me to break the circle. 

When I opened my eyes, I saw Chance glaring at me. 

“You OK?” I said as I was rubbing my head.

Without saying a word, he got up from the table and headed for the door.  

“Not a paranormal event,” he said to Connie and Ben before exiting the room.

“Chance, you OK?” I said as I ran after him. He passed through the front door and climbed into the passenger’s side of the car. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. 

Ordinarily, I’d get down to the bottom of it right away, but I felt hazy, not quite myself. I thought I’d get my wits about me and talk to Chance as we drove back home. 

I got in the car, and we sped off, which was the last clear memory I had.  

I woke up in a single bed surrounded by a metal frame. As I got my bearings, I saw blindingly white walls in a perfectly square room with a standard-issue window to my right. As a former police officer, I knew immediately I laid in a hospital bed. But how?

We’d left Carolyn’s home in a huff after the séance. Chance and me got into the car. We drove off. But I couldn’t remember anything after that. 

I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain radiated from my right arm down to the right foot. 

I looked over to see my arm encased in plaster, slightly suspended in a sling. With my right hand, I flipped the sheets over, revealing my left leg enveloped in a cast all the way up to my knee. 

I felt my heart pumping gallons of blood through my body while my temper flared as I was locked in a sea of plaster for what I didn’t know, but I determined to find out.

Just then, Nurse No Smiles walked into my room, carrying a tray of food. She slapped the tray down in front of me while I tried to sit up. 

Without saying a word or even acknowledging me, she moved over to the window curtains and threw them open, letting the sunlight in, which hurt my eyes. 

She rounded the corner of my bed and came around my side again. 

“Eat,” she said, pointing to the tray. 

“I’m not eating nothing until you tell me what happened,” I said. 

“You were in a car accident,” she said with her hands on her hips. 

I sat back on the bed, feeling completely deflated at the unfortunate news. 

“I remember being in the car, but that’s the last thing I recall,” I said. 

“Most people in bad car accidents don’t remember it,” the nurse said. “You’re no different. 

Don’t think you’re special.”

“I need to talk to Chance, my business associate,” I said. “Can you contact him?”

“The young man in the car with you was discharged with a few bumps and scraps, but you – you were not so lucky,” she said. “Everyone knows what happened to you. All you need to do is rest. Stay here with us.”
The nurse tucked the bed sheet into the mattress so tightly I felt like a human burrito. 

“I need my cell phone,” I said. “Can you get that for me?” 

“Everyone who needs to be contacted has been contacted,” she said. “Stop being such a busybody. Buting into other people’s affairs isn’t good for your health.” 

Before I could even protest, she left me just as quickly as she came. I sunk further into my pillows and stared up at the cracked ceiling, wondering what happened to Carolyn. 

I felt more alone than I’d ever been, unable to call anyone or even walk. I straightened up in my bed, resigning myself to a long recovery. 

But why couldn’t I recall the accident? Wouldn’t I remember some of it, but I couldn’t recall any of it. I felt a mix of helplessness and confusion as I lay there, wallowing in my situation. I tried to buck up, but it was hard. 

I decided that when the empathy black hole of a nurse came back, I’d get my phone, call Chance, and come up with a game plan.

As I shifted in my hospital bed, I hit my plastered arm against the rails, causing a wave of pain radiating down my body until it collected in my knees. 

Night fell soon after, leaving me alone in my room with the curtains wide open, revealing the moonlight now streaming through my window. It caused strange patches of light and darkness in my room. 

I closed my eyes, trying to will myself to sleep. 

Just as I was nodding off, I smelled a stench wafting in my room - a sickeningly sweet musky scent. The odor nauseated me, so I looked for a nurse call button. 

As I was about to yell for assistance, I heard it  – a faint rustling in a darkened corner of my room. 

I stared at that corner until my eyeballs hurt. I felt a presence there, as if someone stood in the corner. But I couldn’t see due to the darkness of the room. 

That sweet smell mixed with a musky odor filled the room even more. I sat up, peering closer at that corner, locked in a staring match. 

Just slightly, almost imperceptibly, the darkness of the corner moved like it’d become alive, appearing as a human oil slick. 

I felt cold all over even though I was tucked into my warm bed. Maybe I’d just awaken from a nightmare? Maybe I was still asleep? Maybe I was hallucinating? I wondered all this. 

I felt the blood drain out of my skull, as I realized I couldn’t deny what my eyeballs saw.

Splat - I threw myself up, out and over that hospital bed, landing flat and face down on the cold linoleum floor. It felt like I’d been stabbed with 100 ice picks all up and down my arms and legs, but I knew what I saw. 

I thought whatever had happened at the séance, it had followed me to the hospital after it likely crashed my car. 

As I army-crawled across the floor, I glanced over at the dark corner. The black shadow slithered like a river of slime across the wall, heading in my direction. 

When I got to the wall, I propped my body against it and threw myself upward, hitting the light switch. 

The room flooded with light. I stared at the corner, fully expecting to see it, but it appeared to be a basic corner – two plain, white walls meeting together.

The darkness in the corner had disappeared and that horrid smell had vanished as if it was never there. And that didn’t square. Even if my mind had been playing tricks in the dark, bad smells linger. But not this one – unless I hallucinated that too. But it all felt wrong.

I laid on the linoleum, wondering what I’d do next. I strained to hear anything out of the ordinary to ensure my safety. But I heard nothing. Literally nothing – and I mean from anywhere. 

And that struck me strange. My instincts began to flair that all was not as it should be. 

Even at night, hospitals are a whirl of chaos with nurses pacing the floors, janitors mopping up messes and machines whistling and dinging, breaking the silence of the night. 

But not this hospital. This hospital was so quiet that a sneeze would’ve set off the overhead sprinklers.

I could almost hear the blood pulsing in my temples, and my hands began to shake as I laid on that cold floor against my hospital door. If it doesn’t make sense, it’s not true, I reminded myself. 

I determined to figure out if my hunches were right – no matter what the answer may be. 

I tried to get up, but I smashed onto the floor, while pain rippled up and down my body again. I laid there for a while until I pulled myself up again. 

With my one good leg, I tried again, and this time I forced myself into a standing position. I flipped off the light, and I pushed my hospital room door open to see a nursing station that looked completely abandoned. 

I glanced up and down the hallway, but no one crisscrossed the floors. I felt like I’d walked into a hospital that’d yet to be opened. 

I hobbled to the next hospital room – empty. Then to the next one – empty. I began almost running as I went from room to room, seeing empty room after empty room. 

With each empty room, my beating heart grew louder in my ears. My brain kept grasping for some reasonable explanation as to why I was the only one in this endless medical maze. 

Finally, out of breath, I leaned up against the wall, contemplating my plight. 

“Where the hell am I?” I said. “This ain’t no hospital.”

As I leaned up against the wall, my ears barely captured the faint sound of crying. 

I bolted down the hall toward the sobs. I felt relieved at that moment that maybe I wasn’t alone, and there was a perfectly logical reason why this hospital looked like it’d been abandoned long ago. 

I ran past empty room after empty room, following the cries that got louder the closer I got. 

Finally, I stood in front of the door of a hospital room from where the crying came. Even though I was sweating through my casts, I felt cold all over. 

But I pulled myself up straight. Whatever was on the other side, I aimed to find out and get out of this place. 

As I pushed the door open, I smeared a slick of blood all over as stitches on one of my gashes had opened. But I pressed on.

I saw a room so bright white it almost hurt. I shielded my eyes from the glare as I hobbled to the center of the hospital room where I spotted a bed just like mine with silver railing all around. 

Lying on the mattress, I saw what looked like a freshly wrapped mummy, bandaged head to toe, as if this person had broken every bone in his or her body. 

I got closer to it, peering at its perfectly encased frame. As I leaned in, nearing the slits through the face bandages, two eyes opened. 

A teen stared back at me. Her black pupils were dilated so wide it looked like they enveloped the colored part of the eye, causing it to be a sliver of what it would’ve been. 

“Help me, please,” she said, reaching out to me as she cried.

Somehow I knew her as she seemed so familiar. I’d seen those eyes before. I recognized this girl, but I couldn’t place her at first, but then I realized. 

“Carolyn?” I said. 

“What are you doing here!” Nurse Wretched yelled behind me, holding a syringe with a six-inch needle dripping with a liquid drop on its tip. 

I wanted to bolt out of there, but encased in plaster, I could only watch as the nurse descended upon me. 

Within seconds, she pounced on me, jamming the needle into my neck. 

I woke up tied to my hospital bed back in my room unable to move. 

I’d been confused. I’d been frustrated. I’d been scared. But now I was so pissed that if I wore a mood ring right now I’d burst into flames. 

I tried ripping myself out of the ties that bound me, but every time I did, pain stabbed me all the way down to my toenails. 

“OK, think! Where did this all go wrong?” I said to myself “The séance – I remember the tug of my ponytail and then Chance coldly leaving. I’ve no recollection of the car accident, but why? And why was Chance so weird after the séance. He left without saying hardly anything. And why didn’t Connie or Ben come after us? It didn’t seem real.” 

Then it struck me like a sumo wrestler bellyflopping into a pool. 

Whatever had me in its grasp, it’d started during the séance – a séance that never ended. I was still at the séance in body, but in spirit, I was here – wherever here was. Instead of Chance entering the nether, I did. 

I recognized too that the dark entity was a mimic in its own ethereal realm. It had mimicked Chance. It mimicked Connie and Ben who strangely didn’t complain when we left. 

Then, the car accident – all faked for my benefit by a wicked creature who’d kidnapped me in its twisted world. 

Ever since I closed my eyes at the séance table, nothing had been real. 

It all came clear now. I felt so foolish that I didn’t suspect it before. 

I knew too that the longer I stayed in the nether, the less likely I’d leave. Its hold on me increased by the moment until it latched so hard onto my soul I’d never escape.

Armed with these new revelations, I wondered what could I do now.

Then I smelled it again – that concoction of rose petals intertwined with the pungent stench of human perspiration. 

“Chance?” I said. “Chance!”

I heard a muffled crackling sound again in that darkened corner that appeared like a blackened void. I strained to see what lurked there. I heard the movement of muscle and bone moving in that pitch darkness. 

Then, I saw it - this lumbering beast of darkness in the corner by the door. It extended its hand to me. It elongated and stretched in a contorted manner until it made its way to the edges of my bed.

The floral musk stench intensified, causing me to shield my nose with my hand as I could barely stand the bizarre concoction of a fragrant garden and abominable snowman. 

Then I heard just barely Chance calling me: “Tyler, I can’t see you. Where are you?”  

Just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished as the fake nurse walked in. She flicked of the light switch, illuminating the room as I pretended I was asleep. 

The nurse pulled the sheets up over me, making sure I was securely fastened. I listened for those rubber soles on cold linoleum as she exited my room after she flicked off the light, leaving me in the dark again. 

Now I knew exactly what had happened. Chance had been trying to reach me all this time. 

As he struggled to pierce the veil into this contorted world, he manifested as an ominous specter, smelling as he did on the earthly plane like a rosy musk scent every time he got closer. His proximity was undeniable, but could he locate me and pull us back into the real world? 

When I started on his journey, my goal was to determine if Carolyn lingered in The Withering. Now my new focus was to liberate us from this nightmarish abyss. I had a plan – not a good one – but at least I had one. 

“Don’t fall for the mind trick,” I said to myself. “You’re hoodwinked into believing the pain.” 

I slammed my arm encased plaster on the metal railing. It sent shockwaves of pain throughout my arm, shoulder and head. I smacked my lips together and my eyes shut while I whimpered as quietly as I could. 

“Smoke and mirrors,” I said. “Wipe that gullible off your brain. I’m still knee-deep in that séance. Don’t buy this illusion.”

But no matter how many times I said it, pain radiated up and down my arms from fingertips to shoulder. Then I realized the next few moments of my life would just suck. 

I flung my leg against the railing again and again, nearly passing out in pain as I did so. It finally cracked, revealing a compound fracture with the bone sticking out of the flesh. 

None of it was truly real, but my mind couldn’t distinguish the difference. 

Without my plaster encasings, I was able to wiggle out of my binding. 

I jumped out of bed. When I stood up, I ran out the door, dragging my bum leg as I went. In the corridor, I found an empty wheelchair and nabbed it on my way to the Carolyn’s hospital room and bring her home. 

As I headed to Carolyn’s hospital room, my tight grip on the wheelchair broke open stitches on my hand, leaving gaping open wounds. 

I hobbled past empty hospital rooms until I came to the right one. I threw open the door, again finding Carolyn wrapped up in plaster from head to toe. I ran to her bedside. 

“Carolyn, my name is Detective Tyler,” I said. “I’m here to rescue you.” 

With my good hand, I tore at the plaster around her eyes, ripping off it off her head until I saw Carolyn’s face at long last. 

“Please help me,” she whispered. “Don’t let it come back. It’s not a nurse.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I know all about her. We’re getting out of here.”

I pulled her up and managed to plop her in the wheelchair before bolting out of the door, pushing that wheelchair as fast as I could. I’d almost made it to my room when the worst happened. 

“Stop!” the fake nurse yelled behind me. “Unhand what’s mine.”

As I turned back down the hallway, it morphed into the longest hospital corridor I’d ever seen. 

No longer trapped completely in its clutches, the reality around me began to crumble. It stood perhaps a half-footfall field away from me. I’d foolishly assumed I’d been dealing with a rogue spirit, but I’d never encountered a creature like this before, although I’d been warned. 

I wheeled Carolyn into my hospital room and shut the door behind me.

Carolyn fell out of the chair onto the floor, unable to move. I pulled her toward me as much as I could, holding her in my arms. 

“Chance!” I yelled. “I’m here. We’re both here. Hurry!” 

Once again, that rose scent draped in the body’s natural potpourri wafted through the air, so I knew Chance closing in on us.  

Just then, the shadows began to converge in the corner. I stood back, watching as it turned into a hand reaching out in the dark. 

“Tyler!” Chance said from the other side. 

As I saw Chance’s hand continue to reach out from the darkness, I felt two other hands on my shoulders. 

I turned to my left, seeing fingers so long and reedy they looked like burnt tree branches wrapping around my body. The entity squeezed harder onto my shoulders, feeling like the pressure would snap my bones in two. 

In one swift movement, while grasping onto Carolyn, I grabbed onto Chance, holding on for my life. 

I felt myself pulled into a void, slipping through time and space, unable to control where I was going and not knowing where I was heading. 

But then everything stopped as abruptly as it started. I opened my eyes to see Chance looking back at me in the séance where this all began. 

Carolyn’s parents, Ben and Connie, on each side of me, still held my hands with their eyes closed. 

Chance and I locked eyes as we maintained the circle. But then, a few seconds later, Ben opened his eyes and turned to me. 

“Are you going to start the séance?” Ben said, somewhat annoyed with us. 

Just then, we heard someone yell from upstairs: “She’s awake! Carolyn is awake!” 

Her parents bolted from the séance table as Chance and me followed. 

I stood at Carolyn’s bedroom doorway, leaning against the doorframe. 

Weakened with muscle atrophy, Carolyn struggled to sit up, but she was fully awake as if she’d simply fallen asleep. 

“I guess we don’t need to do a séance after all,” Connie said to me, wiping away her tears. “It’s a miracle.”

Standing in the bedroom doorway, I watched for a bit longer as her parents and Carolyn reunited for the first time in two months since she fell into a never-ending coma. 

I turned to leave when I heard Carolyn’s voice call after me. 

“Detective Tyler,” she said. “Thank you.” 

Thank you for joining us at Doorway to Darkness. Horror stories by Casey Burrin. Narrated by the Night Creeper. Please follow or subscribe on your podcast app of choice. 

Until next time, stay alive, if you can.