u/Ok_Beyond3369

Promo for my new short story CV 2066 where Patrick gets a mail from the future that changes his life...

I write and narrate my own horror fiction. This is my first completed series.

It started small.

A neglected eleven year old named Jason burns something into a stone with a magnifying glass on a Tuesday morning outside a derelict building. He wraps chewing gum around it. Brings it home. Sticks it to the kitchen floor to spite his mother.

The gum doesn't come off.

Then the table doesn't move.

Then the chairs.

Then the building.

Then the excavator that tries to demolish it breaks its shovel on contact and the crew flees while black rhizomes begin threading through the walls toward their boots.

Then the media arrives and the cameras freeze.

Then two astronauts somewhere between Earth and the void discover that space has no exception.

The series ends with a word that starts and doesn't finish.

Four episodes. German and English versions both available. Bilingual captions. Narrated entirely by me — three voices, one narrator, sound design built from freesound atmospheric loops.

Channel: Giuliano Comperato | Crab Stories + Games youtube.com/@giulianocomperato6971

Episode 1 — He Played With Fire Episode 2 — Home Episode 3 — It Didn't Give Episode 4 — Momentum

Illumination.

Er war nur eine Stunde unterwegs im Dickicht des Waldes,

bevor er die Orientierung zu verlieren begann.

 

Wo ist diese Hoehle?

Verdammt noch mal --

meine Kollegen haben es mir doch ganz einfach erklaert.

 

Wenn ich diese Karte hier richtig deute...

Moment mal --

so herum oder doch lieber anders herum?

Was haben die mir dann nur da drauf gekritzelt?

Ich kann es nicht entziffern.

 

Der Regen setzte ein.

 

Regentropfen durchnaessten den Zettel.

Die Tinte -- bis zur Unkenntlichkeit.

 

Veraergert zerknuellte er das Papier.

Schmiss es auf den Boden.

Suchte Schutz unter dem naechsten Baum.

 

Walter.

So war sein Name.

Ein zerstreuter Philosophieprofessor.

Von seinen Kollegen auf eine Schnitzeljagd geschickt --

um sich auf eine Offenbarung gefasst zu machen.

Mehr wurde ihm nicht verraten.

 

Die Zerstreuung nahm mit dem Regen zu.

 

Haette ich vorher rechts abbiegen sollen?

Oder links?

Bin ich hier ueberhaupt richtig?

 

Erschoepft liess er sich auf den nassen Erdboden sinken.

 

Dann --

 

ein Geraeusch.

 

Ein leises, rhythmisches Quietschen.

Eine Rolle, die sich dreht.

 

Da ist doch jemand.

 

Das Geraeusch kroch durch den Wald.

Wie eine Stimme, die ihn sucht.

 

Walter stand auf.

Folgte dem Klang.

Schritt fuer Schritt.

Lauter.

Bestimmter.

 

Dann sah er es.

 

Das flackernde Licht einer Lampe.

Eine Lichtung.

Und darauf --

 

eine Gestalt.

 

Hager. Blaumann. Einen Schubkarren schiebend.

 

Den kenne ich doch.

Ist das nicht Gustav?

 

Keine Reaktion.

 

Er trat naeher.

Die Gestalt sah durch ihn hindurch.

Blasses Gesicht. Schweissperlen. Anstrengung.

 

Hallo?

Was machst du hier?

 

Nichts.

 

Er legte ihm die Hand auf die Schulter.

 

Die Schulter zuckte.

Streifte sie ab --

wie einen Fremdkoerper.

 

Und der Mann schob weiter.

 

Walter stand da.

Fassungslos.

 

Das war sein Kollege. Von der Uni.

Was geht hier vor sich?

 

Steine.

Einfache Steine.

Auf einem Haufen.

 

Was machte er da?

 

Dann kehrte der Mann um.

Zurueck in die Hoehle.

 

Draussen: die Lampe.

Drinnen:

nichts.

 

Reine Dunkelheit.

 

Sie schimmerten.

Nicht hell --

aber auf eine Art, die er nicht benennen konnte.

Unnatuerlich.

Beunruhigend.

 

Brauchst du kein Licht?

 

Ein leises Schulterzucken.

Nichts mehr.

 

Er hat mich wahrgenommen.

Endlich.

 

Walter folgte ihm in die Hoehle.

 

Nur ein paar Schritte --

 

dann stolperte er.

Fiel.

Schmerz.

 

Er rappelte sich hoch.

Fasste sich ans Knie.

 

Was ist hier los?

Wie kann er so einfach hier laufen?

 

Es erinnerte ihn an Platon.

Das Hoehlengleichnis.

Aber hier war nichts ausser Dunkelheit.

 

Er lehnte sich an die Wand.

Wartete.

 

Als der Mann wieder kam --

beruehrte Walter den Rand des Schubkarrens.

Lief mit.

 

Es funktionierte.

 

Tiefer hinein.

Die Luft wurde schwerer.

Stickiger.

Sein Atem zitterte.

Die Stirn nass.

 

Aber der Boden war eben.

 

Ich muss sehen.

Ich muss wissen.

 

Dann --

 

Konturen.

 

Die Steine.

Sie leuchteten.

Nicht hell --

aber genug.

 

Der Schubkarren stoppte.

 

Walter auch.

 

Der Mann ging an ihm vorbei.

Nahm Steine auf.

Kehrte um.

 

Dann --

 

eine offene Handflaeche.

 

Ein Stein.

 

Warm.

 

Walters Herz --

 

aber es war nicht der Stein, der ihn erschuetterte.

 

Es waren seine Augen.

 

Langsam --

ganz langsam --

nahm der Raum Gestalt an.

 

Konturen.

Kanten.

Die Hoehle entfaltete sich.

 

Lumi...

 

Er stockte.

 

...nation.

 

Der Mann vor dem Steinhaufen richtete sich auf.

Langsam.

Wie etwas, das nicht ganz menschlich war.

 

Ihre Blicke trafen sich.

 

Und die Gestalt --

 

zerstreute sich.

 

In alle Richtungen.

Verschwand.

 

Walter schrie.

 

Der Schrei verstummte in der Nacht.

 

Stille.

 

Dann --

 

bewegte er sich.

 

Mechanisch.

Zielgerichtet.

 

Er trat zum Steinhaufen.

Hob einen Stein auf.

Dann noch einen.

 

Die Erinnerung an den Mann verblasste.

 

Dann sein Name.

 

Wal...

 

Dann alles.

 

Keine Vergangenheit.

Kein Selbst.

Keine Frage.

 

Nur die Aufgabe.

 

Die Steine tragen.

Den Karren hinausbringen.

Entladen.

 

Das wusste er.

 

Und nichts mehr.

 

Im wahrsten Sinne des Wortes --

 

erleuchtet.

 

Der Kreis ist geschlossen.

Illumination.

He had been wandering through the forest for about an hour when he began to lose his sense of direction.

“Where is this cave? Damn it… my colleagues explained it so clearly.”

He looked down at the map.

“If I’m reading this right… wait. Was it this way, or the other way?”

He frowned.

“What on earth did they even scribble here?”

He couldn’t make sense of it anymore.

Then the rain started.

At first, just a few drops. Then more. Soon, the paper in his hands was soaked. The ink began to bleed, dissolving into meaningless stains.

Annoyed, he crumpled the map and tossed it aside. He stepped under the nearest tree, hoping for a little shelter.

His name was Walter.

An absent-minded philosophy professor.

His colleagues had sent him out here on what they called a “scavenger hunt.”

A preparation, they said… for a revelation.

But they had told him nothing more.

The rain grew heavier.

“Should I have turned left back there? Or right? Am I even on the right path?”

Exhausted, he sank down onto the wet ground, just to rest for a moment.

Then—

a sound.

A faint, rhythmic squeaking.

A wheel turning.

Walter froze.

“Someone’s there…”

The sound carried strangely through the forest, winding its way between the trees like a voice trying to reach him.

He stood up slowly and followed it.

Step by step, it grew louder.

Clearer.

And then he saw it.

A dim lamp flickering in a clearing.

And beside it…

a figure.

Thin. Gaunt. Dressed in blue overalls.

Pushing a wheelbarrow.

Walter narrowed his eyes.

“I know him… Isn’t that Gustav?”

No response.

He stepped closer.

The man didn’t react.

Not even a glance.

His face was pale, drenched in sweat. His expression… strained, restless. As if he were pushing himself far beyond exhaustion.

“Hello?” Walter called.

“What are you doing here?”

Nothing.

Walter reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The man shrugged it off instantly. Not aggressively… just mechanically. Like brushing away dust.

And he kept walking.

Walter stood there, stunned.

That was his colleague.

From the university.

So what was happening here?

The man tipped the wheelbarrow and emptied its contents.

Stones.

Just ordinary stones. Piled together.

Walter stared.

“What is he doing?”

No answer.

Then the man turned and began heading back.

Into the cave.

Walter looked up.

The entrance loomed behind him.

And something felt wrong.

There was light outside… from the lamp.

But inside?

Nothing.

Pure darkness.

He stepped closer.

The pile of stones shimmered faintly.

Not brightly… not enough to illuminate the space.

But enough to catch the eye.

An unnatural glimmer.

Behind him, the man returned with another load.

“Don’t you need a light?” Walter asked.

A faint shrug.

Nothing more.

“He noticed me…” Walter whispered.

“Finally.”

Determined, Walter followed him into the cave.

Just a few steps inside—

He stumbled.

Fell hard against the ground.

Pain shot through his knee.

He pushed himself up, confused.

“What is going on…?”

How could the man move so easily in total darkness?

Walter couldn’t even see his own hand.

It reminded him, briefly, of Plato’s cave.

But this…

this was something else.

He made a decision.

He pressed one hand against the cave wall.

And waited.

When the man passed again, Walter moved with him.

Slowly.

Carefully.

He reached out and touched the side of the wheelbarrow.

Using it as a guide.

It worked.

The man didn’t react.

And Walter followed him deeper into the dark.

His breath grew uneven.

The air became heavy.

Still.

Hard to breathe.

But the ground was steady.

And somehow… he kept going.

“I have to see,” he whispered.

“I have to know where those stones come from…”

Then—

something changed.

At first, just a faint outline.

A suggestion of form.

Then more.

His eyes began to adjust.

Or perhaps… something else was happening.

The stones.

They were glowing.

Not brightly—

but enough.

Enough to reveal shapes.

Edges.

Contours.

The wheelbarrow stopped.

So did Walter.

The man walked past him again, as if he wasn’t there.

Then suddenly—

he turned.

Reached out.

And placed a single stone into Walter’s hand.

Walter froze.

The stone was warm.

Almost… alive.

His heart began to race.

But it wasn’t the stone that unsettled him most.

It was his vision.

The darkness was changing.

Slowly… the cave revealed itself.

Shapes emerged.

The flickering intensified.

The space unfolded.

“Illumination…” he whispered.

A small sphere of light seemed to form around him.

He could see.

He turned.

The man was there.

Crouched by the stones.

Rising slowly—

like something not entirely human.

Their eyes met.

And in that moment—

the figure dissolved.

Its form scattered.

Gone.

Walter gasped.

A scream tore from his throat—

and faded into silence.

Then—

stillness.

He stood there.

Alone.

And then…

he moved.

Slowly.

Mechanically.

He stepped toward the stones.

Picked one up.

Then another.

He began to work.

The memory of the man faded.

Then his name. Wal...

Then everything.

No past.

No self.

No question.

Only the task remained.

Carry the stones.

Bring them outside.

Unload them.

He knew this.

And nothing else.

Enlightened… in the truest sense of the word.

The circle is complete.