Episode 4: A Psychic’s Nightmare: Unleashing a Killer's Victims

 In episode 4 of "The Unexplained," we uncover a spine-chilling story from Reddit about a psychic who discovers a horrifying truth about one of her clients. Mr. Howard, an elderly man with a sinister secret, uses her abilities to connect with the spirits of his past victims. As the psychic unravels the true nature of her sessions, she finds herself entangled in a nightmare that transcends the boundaries of life and death. Tune in to hear how she plans to confront this terrifying situation and seek justice for the souls she's inadvertently trapped. This episode will leave you questioning the limits of the supernatural and the depths of human evil. 

"The Unexplained" returns with its most chilling season yet. In "Minds of Malice," we delve into the darkest corners of human psychology, exploring the notorious serial killers who have terrorized communities and baffled law enforcement.

Transcript

I'm A Psychic, And I Think One Of My Clients Is Using Me To Bring Something Into This Life That Doesn't Belong

I’ve been seeing Mr. Howard for two months. He’d come in everyday if I let him, but it takes a lot out of me. Too much. He creeps me out. I want to stop seeing him, but the money he pays is ridiculous.

Times are hard.

This is how it works. We sit at the table in my room and I’m given an article from a loved one that someone would like to speak with. Sometimes it works.

Sometimes it doesn’t. 

Spirits aren’t coaxed into returning to this life and using a psychic as a vessel, it’s more like a trap I have to set.

Once I have a hold of them, they’re able to use my eyes and my voice. Nothing else. I won’t allow that.

I have a timer. Four minutes is all they get, anymore than that and I start to fade into them as they fade more into me, and then madness.

I’m not present for the conversations. I’m in a dark corner of my mind until the timer goes off. My body is trained to wake my mind.

Mr. Howard is in his eighties; hunched over and pushing an oxygen tank. He always has a small square of clothing with him. Always the same size, taken from clothing of his lost loved ones.

He always has a small envelope as well.

Since he’s been coming in, things have been happening to me. Bouts of sickness, bruises that come out of nowhere, and I’ll hear things.

Evil things.

Last time, it looked as though he tried to tamper with my timer while I was under. I shouldn’t see him anymore, but like I said, times are hard.

I’ve set up a camera this time, mounted discreetly on the ceiling and pointing down at the table.

I have to know who he’s talking to beyond the nine names he’s already given me. I think he’s been lying to me; using me to try and bring something terrible into our world.

He hands me a flannel square and says the name, “Christopher”.

I hold it and close my eyes. I find the spirit that feels right and grab hold of it.

I hit the timer.

The next four minutes are black. 

The alarm goes off. 

Mr Howard has tears in his eyes when I wake up. I feel sick. 

He thanks me and pays me.

“See you next week!”

I look at the footage after he’s gone. 

On camera, my body shakes. The spirit takes over. I open my eyes and sharpley inhale. My voice is a young man. A whimpering whisper.

“Oh my God…”

“Even in the afterlife, you boys belong to me.” Mr. Howard’s voice is giddy. He opens his envelope and spreads photos on the table.

Polaroids.

Dozens of mutilated young men.

“How did you…please leave me alone…please…”

“Never. I’m going to be spending a lot more time with all of you.”

I turn off the footage and vomit.

I’ve been helping an old killer reconnect with his victims.

I’m going to reach out to the police. I’m praying that they believe my story. I hope they’re here next week when Mr. Howard comes back.