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A Terrifying Demonic Possession Story - Puppets

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A Terrifying Demonic Possession Story - Puppets

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A Terrifying Demonic Possession Story - Puppets

KURIOUS: Strange and Unusual Stories 2026

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KURIOUS: Strange and Unusual Stories 2026A Terrifying Demonic Possession Story - Puppets. Machine-transcribed; use the interactive transcript above to jump the player to any line.

And Doug, there's nowhere I wouldn't go to help someone customize and save on car insurance with Liberty Mutual, even if it means sitting front row at a comedy show. Hey everyone, check out this guy and his bird. What is this, your first date? Oh, no, we help people customize and save on car insurance with Liberty Mutual together. We're married. Ah! Need a human, him to a bird. Yeah, the bird looks out of your league anyways. Only pay for what you need at Liberty Mutual.com Liberty, Liberty, Liberty, Liberty, Liberty. Tyler Reddick here from 2311 Racing. Victory Lane? Yeah, it's even better with Chamba by my side. Race to ChambaCasino.com, let's Chamba. No purchase necessary, VTW Group, voidware prohibited by law, CTNC's, 21 Plus, sponsored by ChambaCasino. Hello, I'm Wilkins, stories all the time. The laud you are here. Let's get into it. Neve brought her swing to a sudden stop. Her arms looked like they might snap as they caught her flying weight mid-twin.

She thought she had heard a voice coming from somewhere near the pond in the middle of the park across the street from her house. Hi, I'm Bee, the voice repeated. I'm up here. In the tree? Us, Neve. She directed her attention to a weeping willow near the water. The tree, with a twisty tendril spreading, puny leaves, looked nearly transparent. Neve could clearly see each branch contrasted against the grey October sky. There was no boy up there, yet that was almost certainly where his voice had come from. Come up with me, Bee called. The tree swayed from the top down like a billowing dress hanging from the hips of an enormous woman. Neve left the swing set and cautiously approached the tree. Its branches sprouted off at various angles, sometimes jutting out over the pond. Neve stood near the trunk and stared up into the dome, the bubble, the jail of fish that was the willow tree. It was quite obvious no one was up there. I don't see you, Neve said. The tree swayed again. Long green tentacles spotted with yellow ashore and leaves danced around Neve's head. Use the low branch over there, said the voice. Of Bee, Neve's head rotated on instinct, and her eyes settled on a branch suspended over the pond.

The branches' genesis was far above Neve's head, but due to the tree's sporadic angles, a portion of the limb curve down low enough for her to wrap her arms around it. But it wouldn't be easy. That particular portion of the branch hung out over the water. She could reach it from the bank, but one wrong step, one slip of a hand or foot, and Neve would find herself swimming through Ponskum. You've got to see how pretty it is up here, be cold from above. Neve's eye shot upward, going straight to the focal point of his voice. Determined to find the boy, she planted her feet and the bankum wrapped her arms around a hanging branch. She jumped and tried to swing one leg over the branch, but missed. Her feet came down, one on the bank, and one splashing into the shallowest water. I can't do it, now I'm mined. Yes, you can. You can do amazing things if you just try, said B, and I'm gritted her teeth. She knew he was right. It was the message she had told from every PBS show she had watched after school. Do you best? Try. She recalled a kid in a wheelchair playing basketball on Sesame Street. Determined, Neve embraced the branch once again, interlacing her fingers.

She kicked off the ground and in one perfect motion wrap of legs around the branch. It's weighed as if lazily trying to shake her off, but she held fast. You did it jeered bees' voice for above. Neve couldn't contain her smile as she hoisted her slight body atop the branch. Still smiling, she looked up. A black crow swept down from the highest branches of the willow tree. It issued an angry squawk as it dove straight for Neve's head. She screamed and put her hands up to shield her face. She felt the crow's wings beaded her hands and twisted away. The sudden movement within her already unstable position caused her to shift too far to the left and full. Neve opened her eyes to see the scummy water rising to greet her in slow motion. A bullfrog jumped out of her way. She squeezed her eyes shut again, but just before the inevitable cold splash, something jerked Neve toward the shore. She tumbled onto the bank. The same foot which had already splashed in the shallow water landed in it again, but otherwise Neve was safe and dry. She opened her eyes. There was bee. He was real. Now he wasn't just a voice, he was standing above her, looking dumb of concern.

He had medium-length black hair, thick eyebrows, and the paleest skin Neve had ever seen. His face sort of looked like an amateur artist's sketch come to life. I slightly too far apart, nose a little too high and slightly crooked. He had a small mouth too, made smaller bites worth frown. He had both hands and pockets of his grey hoodie, and the legs of his blue jeans were smudged all over with dirt. That was close, he said. Standing Neve said, thanks for saving me. Be smiled. That water looks cold, plus, a kind of feel like it was my fault you fell. It's okay, Neve said. How did you get up there, and good at climbing? After a pause, he asked, want to be friends. Neve smiled and said, okay. She led bee back to the swing set, where they swung back and forth until her shot, and foot dried up. That, they played children's games in between chat about life, their families, or rather Niam's family. The claim he didn't really have a family and wouldn't share any more when pressed. Niam privately wondered if not having a family was why his name was only one letter instead of four like hers. After nearly two hours Niam began to shiver even when keeping active.

The moist air, cooled by autumn's frigid breath, had penetrated her jacket and clothes. Want to come see my house? She asked bee. It's right across the street. My parents and brother are home so you can meet my whole family. Be looked uncomfortable, looked away. Neve touched his hand. This was something she had seen in a movie once, and said, it's okay if you're shy. We finally agreed to go with Neve. She let him across the street, prancing all the way. She burst through the front door of her house, shouting, mom, dad, I brought a front home. Somewhere deep in the house, the chairs lit, and the door opened. In another place, a light switch clicked. Then two sets of footsteps converged upon the entryway. Neve's parents appeared at the same time with broad, prepared smiles which vanished as soon as they saw bee. This is my friend I met at the park. Neve said, not letting her parent reaction face her. His name is bee. Bee, huh? Her dad asked. Is that short for something? When bee didn't answer, Niam turned toward him. She saw he was shaking his head.

Her dad stared incredulously at bee as if his silent answer wasn't good enough. Niam's mom was bird, it's okay. I had an imaginary friend when I was her age two. Lovely she said, it's nice to meet you bee. Welcome to our home. Bee shut the door a little harder than Neve thought he probably meant to. It boomed and rattled some picture frames on a shelf in the living room. The sound must have startled her parents because they both jumped and stared with wide eyes. Guess it's getting windy out there, her dad said. Her mom said, Neve, why don't you, you and Dee, go play downstairs for a while with Jeremy. I'm finishing up some work and your dad needs to stop making dinner. It's bee, mom, Neve corrected. Her mom bit the inside of her cheek and nodded slightly. Out, right dinner, her dad groaned. Then I forgot to pull out the chicken. He vanished, sucked away in a tornado of long brown hair and baggy sweats. Her mom walked away without another word. He remembered, I told you about my brother Jeremy. Neve asked bee, he nodded. She led him toward the basement stairs.

Bee whispered, sorry I slammed the door. I think it made you parents mad. No, they can just be really weird, Neve said. Jeremy's kind of a weirdo too. Mom said we should play with him, but I never really play with him. He thinks he's too cool. He sounds like a jerk. Neve smirked. Yet kinder. The basement was one semi finished room with carpet and a floor and bare walls. The exposed ceiling showed all the pipes and ducts and wires running beneath the above. In the corner, as far from the air conditioner and furnace as possible, Jeremy sat on a folding chair with an electric guitar in his hands and one foot propped up on a small amplifier. He barely spayed neither glance and didn't seem to notice bee at all. Jeremy, Neve shouted as Jeremy launched into a poorly executed system of a dam roof. Jeremy, what? 15 year old Jeremy demanded. He muted his strings with his right hand and called his left into a fist. I want you to meet my friend Bee from the park. What kind of a name is that? Jeremy asked. A Paul 9 said.

That's rude. Well, you and your ghost friend go do something that won't bother me, alright? I'm trying to learn this song. Not trying hard enough, Bee said. 9 giggled. What? Jeremy demanded. 9 covered her mouth with her hand and said nothing. I thought I heard you say something. Nup. Jeremy rolled his eyes. Just leave me alone, okay? His amplifier squealed so suddenly and so loudly that Jeremy accidentally kicked it over. He immediately shut it off and began inspecting his cables. Come on, I want to see your room Bee said. Neve showed him the way. I'm sorry everyone's being so rude to you, Neve said once they were in her room. Bee walked around taking the room in. It's okay, you're really nice. That's all that matters to me. Want me to see if it's okay you stay for dinner? Neve asked. Bee said no, I think I should go soon. Thanks for inviting me over at the. He met Neve's eyes. Then his eyes looked just past her and he cocked his head. He said hold still and reached over her shoulder.

When he brought his hand back he was holding a stem from the weeping willow tree. It had five leaves in the early stages of their autumn turn attached to it. Was that in my hair? Neve asked giggling. It must have gotten caught on you when you felt Bee said. You should keep it. It can be a reminder of the day we met. Neve took the stem, smiling broadly and thanked him. She didn't want him to go but she showed him the way out anyway. Dinner passed as usual with sports conversation. Being a Saturday evening there wasn't even school for the parents to ask about. Without that time this conversation piece nobody really knew what to talk about. Now I'm tried to bring up be a couple of times but no one seemed interested in that topic. Drew McIntyre here from WWE. Wheeled in the Claymore can be a life of chaos. When I'm not dominating in the ring, Chumbacasino is how this warrior takes a wee break. With hundreds of online social games and new weekly releases, there's always something fresh to try. And those daily busts, next level. Even my free time feels like foul howling. So when life feels like a battle, kick up your feet, have some fun, and let's Chumbac.

No purchase necessary. VGW Group Boyd were prohibited by law, CTs and Cs, 21 plus sponsored by Chumbacasino. At the UPS store, reinsure your small viz stand out. With a variety of high quality paper stock options, banners, posters for stores and more, most locations are independent leo, product services pricing and hours of operation may fear, see center for details. The UPS store. Be unstoppable. Come into your local store today and get your print on. As she got ready for bed, now I'm her Jeremy playing guitar and a basement again. Only this time, he actually sounded good. She didn't like the kind of music he played and usually hated it even more because he couldn't stay in tune or on beat. But she could tell he was hitting all the right notes this time. Suddenly, Jeremy burst into her doorway. She looked up at him, pinching her eyebrows together. He was looking at her, at if she had just performed some impossible magic trick. They stared at each other that way for five, full seconds, while the system of a down-riff echoed up through the vents. Jeremy's dumbfounded look more often to something like disgust. He ran to the basement without a word. A few seconds later, the guitar went silent and Jeremy came running back to Nieveroom panting.

Did you how could was he stammered? He looked from side to side, unable to keep still. Nieve waited patiently for him to ask whatever it was he wanted to ask her. Then she noticed something just behind him. She hadn't noticed it first because it looked like Jeremy's shadow, but now she saw familiar pale skin peeking out from behind him and an eye which winked at her. When Jeremy finally walked away, B was fully exposed. He stood in the hallway where we were in the same dirty clothes. The only change in him was a pair of dark circles, almost like bruises now surrounding his eyes. What are you doing here? Nieve whispered. B tipped out into her room and closed the door. Sorry, I didn't want to go home, he admitted. Was that you playing guitar? Yeah, I didn't like how Jeremy talked to you, so I wanted to make him feel bad. Why would you want to make somebody feel bad? Nieve asked innocently. Be shrugged. Don't you ever want to hurt people when they're mean to you? I don't want to hurt anybody. Nieve said. She looked at her new friend as if she didn't know him at all. Okay, then what would you change about your family?

If you don't want to hurt them, what would you do to make them different? Nieve fought about this temporarily, ignoring the fact that her new friend had apparently snuck back into her house to taunt her brother. She said, I wish this smile more. I almost never see my parents smile, and Jeremy never smiles ever. Be studded her through squinted eyes. He said nothing until he suddenly asked, can I sleep here tonight? Why? Us, Nieve, slightly uncomfortable. I told you, I don't want to go home. I could sleep under the bed so no one sees me. Nieve considered this carefully. She didn't really want to be sleeping under her bed. That was kind of creepy. He was kind of creepy all of a sudden. How about this, be said. I'll sleep here tonight, and if you don't like it, I won't do it tomorrow. Can we just try it? Nieve gave him a slight nod and said, yet, okay, let's try it. Do you need any PJ? Mine might all be too small for you. That's okay and comfortable like this. Be touched her hand away she had touched his at the park. He crouched down at her bedside then slipped underneath.

Nieve laid down and closed her eyes. For a while she thought she wouldn't be able to sleep. It seemed impossible with every firing synapse reminding her of the dirty boy sleeping beneath her, but an imposing doc is crept into her mind after the first ten minutes or so. It pushed away to pesky thoughts and questions which kept her awake and lulled her into deep way to slumber. When Nieve woke on Sunday morning, Bee was already gone. She worked through the creaky house, giving the floorboards her morning stretch, calling for bee and hush tones, but she could not find him. I guess he got up even earlier than me and finally went home, she thought. A floorboard she had not been heavy enough to pop crack behind her. She turned around, still expecting to see Bee and was surprised to see her father there instead. He was usually the last to get out of bed, but there he was smiling at her from the hallway. She waited for him to say something, but he only beamed at her as if she was his favourite comedian about to put on the show. Hi dad, Nieve said apprehensively. Good morning, he replied. His voice sounded low and groggy. He was typically a Sunday morning grump, and despite his cheery face, his voice told Nieve he had maintained his regular attitude.

Speaking seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he had been in, but the smile remained etched across his face. Nieve's mother came down the hallway shortly after her dad disappeared into the kitchen. Nieve was immediately horrified to see the same awful smile smeared on her mother's face like a bad make-up job. Have you been watching TV already? Her mother asked. Like her father's, her mother's voice did not at all reflect the smile on her face. No, I just woke up a little bit ago, and I am answered. Mom, why are you smiling? Her mother's hand went to her own face, to the corner of her mouth, as if dabbing away some spaghetti sauce painted by a wayward noodle. She shook her head at Nieve with an exasperated truck, then joined her father in the kitchen. Nieve sat alone in a living room, listening to the bubbling sound of coffee percolating, catching the homey aroma as it intensified. She hated the taste of coffee, but absolutely loved the smell. An observer would have seen only a vacant, blinking child sitting on the couch, but Nieve's mind had turned into a pinball machine. Occasionally, she would strike a thawed or an idea, and her light would flash. One such thought was a memory from the night before, her last conversation with me before he slipped under her bed.

He had asked her what she would change about her family, and she had said, oh no. Nieve snuck around the corner despite her parents in the kitchen. She wanted to see if they stole all those hideous miles. Her dad had his back turned, and her mom was sipping on the steening muck. When she lowered the muck from her lips, Nieve was relieved to see her mom's relaxed lips through the steam. But when her mother's eyes flick toward Nieve, her lips spread into that broad, unnatural smile. Nieve dived away again. Nieve had done something. She was sure of it. She had suspected there might be something odd about him, and now she knew what. He was magic. She felt compelled to find him again, although subconsciously she felt him nearby still in the house even. She needed to tell him to stop it. She had wanted her family to smile more because they were happy, joyful, maybe even laughing together. Not because of some witchy trick. How long would it last? Would it ever stop? Nieve jumped off the couch. She had to find me. She snuck out the front door, barefoot, and ran through the cold grass of their front yard across the street and into the park.

The weeping willow dense slowly in the fog. The rising sun behind it created a perfect outline of its thinning branches, and sitting atop the highest branch was the silhouette of a young boy. By the time she reached the willow tree, Nieve's toes were numb. The hems of her pajama pant legs were soaked. They? She called into the tree. Yes? His voice answered from behind her. Nieve spun around and saw her friend standing there with a patient look on his face as if he had been waiting ever her the whole time. Did you do something to my parents? She asked. Her mirthful grin spread across peace face. Of all the creepy smiles she had seen that morning, his was the worst. He asked your parents. No. He told me you wished your family smiled more. I thought you would be happy. You look happy. He pointed at her. At her mouth. Nieve raised a hesitant hand to her face, touching the corner of her mouth the way she had seen her mother do. She followed her lips of one finger tracing the outline of a white grin. She took a big step back from me. No, she yelled.

Make it stop. She tried to frown, felt her muscles contort but her fingers told her the smile remained etched into her face. It's what you wanted. Be said flatly. No, it's not. Be tilted his head to the side. Nieve said, I want my family to be happy. I want them to be fun and laugh and dance. And I don't want Jeremy to be so mean to me. I want them to smile for real. Not pretend. She felt angry at me now. She said, I don't want to see you anymore. These had straightened and his smile widened. Without another word, he faded into the fog. All but his smile. Nieve reached out a hand to grab him to hold him there. As much as she wanted him to go away and leave her alone, she still had questions. She wanted to know what he was, what he really was. But even as her hand entered a space he had occupied seconds before he was gone. All but his smile. It hung in a fog like the Cheshire cat Nieve had seen in the Alice in Wonderland cartoon. And a moment later, that vanished too. A vicious Nieve walked through the foggy park, back to her house. From across the street, she heard a loud crash.

The tinkle of shattered glass was punctuated by a single high nerd expelled by her mother. Nieve waited, listening for an angry shout or an injured cry, but she only heard the muted and distant sound of her father laughing. Maybe the shattering hadn't been something bad after all. She envisioned a scene as she crossed a quiet road. Her dad at the kitchen sink, rubbing a plate or rinsing out of glass as it fell into the basin and shattered, startling her mom. Nieve entered her home fully convinced the scenario she had concocted was true. While what your step her grinning father warned when you purged the kitchen. Her mother was sweeping thin shards of glass into a crystalline pile in the middle of the floor, humming as she worked. The shards did not belong to a plate or glass, or any kitchen were for that matter. Nieve may not have recognized the shattered item at all, if the kitchen wasn't noticeably brighter than usual, causing her to look up at the newly exposed lightbulbs in the center of the ceiling. How did that fall? She asked pointing at where the light fixture used to be. No idea her father shrugged. Then he laughed forcefully. One second it was up, the next it just fell. Did you do it? No, Nieve replied.

The breaking conversation allowed her to hear her mother faintly giggling now. Nieve asked, what's so funny? Huh? Nothing's funny, her father answered. Her mom ignored her. Have you ever seen Jeremy messing with this? Her father continued to laugh as he pointed up at the empty brass ring where the bowl-shaped glass fixture should have been. Nieve's mother glanced away from her pile of shards to look up at the empty fixture, which she apparently found historically hilarious. Her giggles bubbled into a chortling laugh so intense she dropped her broom. All of this commotion finally brought Jeremy out of his room. At the side of the broken glass, he too busted out in hysterical laughter. Nieve ducked nervously and took a few steps away from her cacking sibling. Was she the only one who didn't see any humor in a broken light fixture? Guys, I don't get it, she said, loudly enough to be heard over their syncopated laughs. What's so funny? Jeremy shook his head and laughed even harder. The exposed light bulbs cast a glaring reflection on the kitchen window. The fog outside made the reflection crystal clear. Nieve had paid no mind to the window until her mother bent over to scoop the collected shards into the dustbin,

where her mother's bright pink shirt had been reflected. Nieve peripherally noticed a faint features of a pale face, but in a fraction of a second it took her eyes to focus on the window, the face vanished. Nieve took a few more steps backward, distancing herself from her laughing family. Jeremy's laugh was such a foreign sound. It had been so long that Nieve had forgotten what his laugh even sounded like. It sounded absolutely insane. It made her think anything could happen that her brother could, at any given moment, lose control and attack. This was B's fault, Nieve was once again sure. She tried to recall their conversation by the weeping willow. What did she say this time? Last time she had told him she wanted her family to smile more. Had she asked for them to laugh? I want my family to be happy. I want them to be fun and laugh and dance, and I don't want Jeremy to be so mean to me. I want them to smile for real, not pretend. The words played back in her memory. This was B's fault, and also hers. Vee was only doing what she had asked. Did he really think this is what she had wanted, though? A family of maniacs who would laugh at broken glass.

Vee must have known what she had really meant. He must have understood her true meaning. So why was he doing this to her? To her family? Nieve ran to her bedroom and slammed the door shut. A distorted cord, saturated in reverb, echoed up through the vent next to her bed. It was loud enough to hide her parents laughter, which continually wafted through the closed door every minute or so. Nieve apprehensively listened to her brother tune his guitar below her. Although she didn't have the language to describe the feeling, she felt an impending sense of dread. She felt like, once Jeremy finished tuning, something awful was going to happen. In preparation, she dove beneath her covers and called into a bowl. The high-use strain of Jeremy's guitar ran out as he finished tuning. It lingered, morphing into harmonic overtones as it echoed through the vents, ratcheting up the tension in Nieve's chest. Then, with perfect precision, amateur Jeremy launched into the opening riff of Van Halen's Panama. Nieve recognized the song from the radio, even without the rest of the instruments playing along. Joyce's commissions came from the kitchen. Somehow, these joyful sounds terrified Nieve.

Jeremy didn't stop at the intro riff. He continued to play Panama in perfect rhythm and tune. Nieve had never heard Jeremy play a single measure of a song perfectly, let alone an entire verse. And when he hit the chorus, repeating the main riff with bancy precision, Nieve heard feet stomping along in the kitchen. Nieve thought, at first, her parents were rearranging the dining chairs for some reason. It sounded like someone was knocking furniture around, but in perfect time with the music. Heurously, she's lit her sheet down past her forehead, past her eyebrows, and an angle which allowed only one shimmering eye to peek out. These stood to the foot of her bed between her and the door. He had his hands on her football board. His eyes stood at her with clinical observation. With a shrill squeak, Nieve flipped the sheet back over her head and dove beneath her pillows. She brought her legs up tight against her chest, and Nieve saw high ones struck her chin and made her teeth click together. Another squeak met her ears, muffled by the pillows and blankets. This sound was intimately familiar. She heard it each morning when she went out to greet the day, and each night when she shut out the world.

It was the sound of her bedroom door yawning. It was swinging open, destroying the barrier between the terrified child and the disturbing, foreign place that had so recently been her refuge her home. The longer Nieve waited beneath the covers, the deeper her dreadbird. The foe safety of the sheet flickered, intermittently allowing his idea about what he was doing to infiltrate the fabric. As Jeremy entered the second course of Panama and her parents' footsteps, yes, they were undoubtedly dancing footsteps, pounded along, Nieve couldn't handle the stress any longer. She threw off the pillows and sheets in one furious motion and prepared to scream, but behead again vanished. All Nieve saw was her open door, beckoning to her, lowering her back out into the house. Brave little Nieve, feeling not brave at all, snuck into the hallway, past room she knew she'd be empty, daring not to look into them at the risk of meeting the observant as she fell upon her. Jeremy's song was almost over now, but their parents were still dancing noisily in the kitchen. At the end of the hallway, Nieve could see them. They weren't even dancing together. They were standing apart on either side of the glass pile, each moving in rhythms of their own, but keeping the same beat.

Nieve had never seen either of them dance before. She wouldn't have guessed they even knew how. Their faces looked red. They glistened. The physical strain of keeping the upbeat temper made it even more bizarre for them to have continued for so long. The mouth's hung open, breathing hard. That is, until Nieve's father noticed her and looked up. His mouth snapped shut, and he bared his teeth in a manic grin. The rest of his body jangling beneath it as if he were a puppet on a string. That's what they had become. Oppies. As Nieve recalled into the hallway, she noticed her mother staring at her with the same hungry expression. Nieve, her father's voice called out. Come dance with us, honey, invited her mother. Nieve began to cry. What was wrong with her parents? Why were they acting this way? Would they ever stop? They would. The sun ended. Jeremy muted the final chord and instantly returned to tuning his guitar loudly enough to be heard upstairs. Nieve's mother went right back to scooping up the glass shouts, and her father resumed washing the dishes. Jeremy finished tuning and started botching some rift that didn't sound very difficult, even to Nieve.

Sunday morning went back to normal, and Nieve was uncomfortable as she was try-tack normal to. Somehow her family's laces fell to Mina during the rest of the day was more offensive to Nieve than smiling and dancing. It made her feel as if her family had been in on the joke and there she was the unfunny punchline. She went to bed Sunday night without saying goodnight to anyone. She simply closed the door and shut them out. Eventually, Restless Nieve began to hear everyone else going to bed too. Water hissing through pipes, closets sliding open and shut, and dragging footsteps told the individual stories of their bedtime routines and went into oven compilation. She heard her parents bedroom door close, then Jeremy's, and finally she could relax. She thought about going to school tomorrow for the first time all day. She tried to remember if she had anything to do and what Missessie said they would be doing. Nieve felt anxious to be at school to be away from her home and family for seven distracting ires. Just as sleep began to stroke the edges of her mind, a new question woke her back up. Would be follow her to school? Hi, this is Alex Cantrowitz. I'm the host of Big Technology Podcast, a long-time reporter and an on-air contributor to CNBC.

And if you're like me, you're trying to figure out how artificial intelligence is changing the business world and our lives. So each week on Big Technology, I bring on key actors from companies building AI tech and outsiders trying to influence it. Asking where this is all going, they come from places like Nvidia, Microsoft, Amazon, and plenty more. So if you want to be smart with your wallet, your career choices, and meetings with your colleagues, and at dinner parties, listen to Big Technology Podcast wherever you get your podcasts. Do you love romcoms? Do you wish you could talk about Christmas movies year round? Then we have the perfect podcast for you, Holmarke's Podcast. Throughout the year, we cover all things romance, holiday, and Holmarke, including recaps of every Holmarke show, like when calls the heart and the way home. You can also get loads of bonus content covering shows like Bridgerton, Sweet Magnolia, and just like that. We are an all-female group of friends who are passionate for these shows and movies, and give our honest opinions as well as gosh over what we love so much.

But that's not all. Every Monday, there are interviews with all your favorite actors, writers, directors, and more. Check out Holmarke's Podcasts on all your podcast providers and on YouTube. That's Holmarke's Podcast wherever you listen to podcasts. Then she wondered what about the smiles? The dancing? The knees' racing mind was interrupted by the whisper of her bedroom door latch slipping from the bore. The door broke away from the jam and crept him word. Forward. With be already on her mind, Neve fully expected to see her so called, friends standing in the dark hallway, asking to sleep under her bed again. No way would she allow him to this night. Could she deny him, though? Would he let her? She would not have a chance to answer those questions because standing in the doorway was not be, but her father. Dad. Neve asked. He stepped into the room, his feature shaded by shadows cast by her light. He turned his back to Niam and slowly quietly closed the door again. Dad. Niam asked again. What are you doing? When he turned back around, he was smiling that awful, bee-influenced smile.

Niam screamed for her mommy. Her father lunged over the bed. She threw up her sheets and rolled out of his path. Her bedsheet tangled him up for a second, just long enough for Niam to put some space between them. Her father had the advantage of being closer to the door. Niam was trapped. She had no idea what her father's intentions were, but she knew they weren't really his intentions anyway. He pounced off the bed and she barely avoided his grasping fingertips. His momentum carried him into the wall. He seemed to bounce off. While he recovered, Niam dotted toward the closed door. She only managed to escape because it opened it inward, creating a barrier for her as she ran out. Niam was smart enough to slam the door shut behind her. She heard her father's body thud against it, then slide down. She saw the crack in a door go dock because he had blocked the night lights glow. Unfortunately, that faintly can glow would have been Niam's only light. She now found herself in perfect darkness. Although she knew the house well enough to walk through it with her eyes closed most nights, on this one, she felt so out of place that she didn't trust her muscle memory.

She graced the wall with her fingertips as she tipped to it down the hallway, unsure of where she was going to go. They had a few friendly neighbors, and alone Niam didn't know them too well. She thought she might be able to get some help. She couldn't trust anyone in her family. Hopefully, she could still trust other people. They hind her, a door opened. Not her bedroom door, thankfully, but her parents. Niam turned around, forgetting the hallway was too dark to see anything. A footstep creaked toward her, then another. Niam continued down the hallway, backwards now, keeping her eyes trained where she thought the footsteps were coming from. The next two came quicker. Then a third pair followed even more rapidly. By the fourth, they were running, and so was Niam. Yet over here, Niam, her mother ordered. Niam didn't slow. She could not afford to. Her mother was rapidly gaining on her. In the living room, she finally caught up. The back of Niam's pajamas shirt stretched and the front dug into her neck. Her feet tried to keep running, but a forceful tuck from her mother's hand brought Niam to the ground. Niam opened her mouth, but her mother's hand smacked it shut again.

This unexpected violence trigger, an equal reaction. Niam rotated on her back and kicked both legs at her mother's grinning face. Her mother absorbed kicks to the forehead and cheeks, even one to the nose which made a bubble rub crack. One of Nisbeer, he has caught her mother's throat. This made her recoil and gave Niva a chance to reposition herself and deliver a powerful need to her mother's temple. She missed and instead struck her jaw, which had the same effect. Her mother's unconscious body slumped to the floor. Niva scurried to the front door and locked it, and threw it open so hard it bounced back and struck her behind as she opened the storm door. Into the night, she ran, barefoot, and with only her pajamas to protect against the cold October night. She ran through the grass, crossing from her yard into the neighbors. The moon hung low in the sky, hovering right behind a weeping willow in the park, illuminating its thinning branches. Niam, Jeremy yelled. Now it was the one running behind her, gaining effortlessly. Help, Niam screamed. Somebody please help me. Going to the neighbor wouldn't help anymore.

Jeremy would be on her long before anyone answered the door. She diverted to the park instead, a place she knew well. She sorted through possible hiding places in her head as she crossed the street. Someone's porch light came on, reminding Niam to keep screaming for help. Someone had hurt her, and maybe more would too. Jeremy was gaining so rapidly that Niam had already abandoned the idea of hiding. She wouldn't have enough time. More porch lights turned on, and a few windows lit up. Niam heard someone yell, who's out there? And she screamed louder still. Now Niam ran in a straight line, unable to afford to slow down enough to change course. And where else was Jeremy chasing her, but straight to the weeping willow? Niam wondered where she would go when she reached the pond. I, I you. Somebody shouted across the park. Neve darling, another cold. Yet a third exclaimed, they're in the park. We're coming, Neve. Stay away, creep. When Neve reached the willow tree, she could run no further. She had two choices, climb or swim. Her lust climb hadn't gone so well, but she leapt up and wrapped her arms around the lowest branch anyway.

She got one leg over the branch before Jeremy caught up. He grabbed her stretch shirt and tried to pull her down, but Neve held fast. Let go, a gruff voice demanded. Below her, Neve heard a soft thump and two grunts, and the tension in her shirt disappeared. Hot racing, she pulled herself onto the branch, successfully climbing into the tree. From there, she continued upward as one of the brave neighbours wrestled her brother-biller. It's Neve and her brother, a woman yelled. We've got you, kiddo, someone else said. A second person joined in the wrestling match into the tree. Jeremy growled and sent one of them's rolling. The other, he tossed into the cold, scummy water. A bystander yelled. What the hell? Another, Diablo. The group of neighbours, Neve couldn't count them in a dark, formed a semi-circle around Jeremy. Neve climbed high enough that no one could reach her and said, my brother isn't doing this. Something is making him. Where are your parents? A woman asked. This question spawned murmurs throughout the group. I don't know, Neve said.

It got them to you, and I'll take everyone of you who doesn't scurry away right now. Jeremy growled. A deeper voice blended with his own. Oh God, it is a demon, the man in the water yelled. He stopped cold in more ways than one. Jane? Now I'm recognised Mr. Badger, who had yelled this word. He dropped his knees, folded himself to the ground, and began to pray feverishly aloud. Oh God Almighty, one of the women began, praying to her own high power. The man from the pond now merged, anchored a crucifix out from under his shirt. He tackled Jeremy from behind and pressed the silver cross to the boy's forehead. His possessor howled and tossed the man off easily. Others were praying now. People of varying feats whispered and chanted in sun in an oral stew of languages. Some repeated root prayers while others babbled off the cuff. More symbolic jewelry hand signs, and tattoos appeared amongst them. One woman yelled, I have some holy water. I don't know if it works, but she separated and ran off. Now I am had recognised her as Miss Brack, a woman her parents had told her to steer clear of because she was into a quote which she stuff.

A few brave neighbours, emboldened by Jeremy's confused reaction to the onslaught of spiritual attacks, grabbed a hold of him again. He fought clawing and spitting, but they put him on his back. This whole time, Neve had continued to climb. The loaher, everyone who wasn't engaged in physical combat, had closed their eyes and either gotten on their knees or was standing with hands raised to the heavens. Almost nobody noticed when Neve hosted herself onto a dead limb, which bowed dangerously under her weight. The two who did notice were Mr. Hanland and Mr. Weeks, an atheist couple who stick a ridden bumpers had been the subject of constant mockery for Neve's father. This couple were the only neighbours who still are there as open Mr. Hanland boosted Mr. Weeks into the tree, he. Being much taller than Neve, was able to reach the girl before she even recognised the peril she was in Mr. Weeks, stetted Neve on a stronger branch just as the dead one had started crackling which Miss Brack returned. Breathless, with a small vile here, she shouted, diving into the phrase she encorked the vile and sprinkled a few droplets of water on Jeremy. He hissed him far harder against the hands, elbows and knees holding him down. The renewed upburst did not last long. His strength quickly waned and those holding him saw his eyes grow wide and desperate.

They flashed from neighbour to neighbour looking more terrified of each one in turn. All the struggling had shifted the group toward the edge of the pond. Jeremy's possessor had one final trick handy. Like a hungry alligator, he grabbed hold of one of the men and flipped him into the pond. The shock of Jeremy's sudden movement caused the rest to lose their holds on him. The man and Jeremy tumbled into the water, rolling deep enough that with each rotation, one of them was entirely submerged. A flowing elbow had knocked the vile from Miss Brack's hand. It spun through the air, dashing holy waters at flu. The now empty vile landed with an inaudible splash next to the deafening struggle between Jeremy and his victim. Jeremy, who had been on top when the holy water reigned on the pond, snapped his head back and held. The man below had managed to slip out and raised his head high enough to choke down some air. Jeremy remained paralyzed with his head pulled back, mouth open, and hands frozen in claws for a few seconds then went entirely limp. He splashed, face first, into the water. At a very instant, Jeremy's face broke the surface, who guys are exploded upward from the centre of the pond.

It looked as if a meteor had struck. Most of the water in the pond either splashed out of the gather-praying neighbours were washed up past the bank, leaving a muddy pit in its wake. The half-drawn man clambered his feet and, in yet another instant of selfless bravery, dragged Jeremy's limp body through the mud before the water could pour back in around them. Nieve and Jeremy's parents ran through the group of stunned onlookers. All prayers chants and songs had ceased and everyone was on their feet again. Mr. Hanlon and Mr. Weeks helped Nieve down from the tree while Mr. Bada performed CPR on Jeremy. Nieve's parents ran straight to her, not realizing it was their son-ling and conscious a few feet away. The words, he's alive, just barely outpace a fit of sputtering, wet coughs from the boy on the ground. Only then did his parents realise what was happening and go to his aid. Nieve's parents never truly got to hear a full, accurate account of what happened that night. They rushed Jeremy straight to the hospital and stayed with him overnight and most of the next day. Consequently, the neighbours have plenty of time to replay and retell the account of the terrifying experience. Certain elements were forgotten, people left out actions exaggerated and by the time the story reached Nieve and Jeremy's parents,

it had been bent so far out of true that they could not believe a word. Even Nieve questioned her own memory as most of its contents were too fantastical to be believed. Her parents and Jeremy have no memory of anything between going to bed and the moment Jeremy was saved. They still do not understand how Nieve got stuck up in a tree in the middle of the night or how Jeremy nearly drowned trying to attack her. Rescue her. Nieve satisfied not letting them remember the full truth. The experience, however vague in their memories, still brought them all a little closer together and mended a few of the gaps that had formed since Jeremy had become a raging teenager. Nieve had but one fear remaining. She dreaded the day she might see be standing in some corner or peeking at her from a reflection. She feared, whenever she passed beneath the tree, Willow or otherwise, that she might hear his voice calling to her again. She has been staring clear of the weeping Willow in the park and through the stem beard plucked from her hair at the window. She was glad to see the last of the tree's leaves fall off near Autumn's end, leaving nowhere amongst its branches to hide. And that is the end. Thank you for listening and I will see you in the next one.

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