The Welcome to another edition of Nightmarefeels and Peepers.

I'm Dan Cummins, and I'll be sharing another original short story of the fictional horror variety,

another standalone story this week.

I keep wanting to add more lore to the dark world or revisit some of the friends and

or monsters we've met in these stories, but then inspiration takes me elsewhere.

Very curious of what you'll think of where it took me for this one.

I highly recommend noise cancellation headphones for the ultimate experience.

Hope you enjoy this new nightmare.

Time now for the tale of the House of Hurt.

Gabe and Hassan were both getting more red-faced and sweaty by the minute.

The trail guide had said their hike would be moderate, but this didn't feel moderate.

Gabe's quads were burning.

Hassan's feet were beginning to ache, and neither one of them felt like they'd brought near enough water.

On what would turn out to be the second hottest day of the summer, they decided to tackle

the 14-mile-plus hike up and back to the fire tower that sat atop Woodhull Mountain.

Not a big mountain by any stretch of the imagination, and some guides described it as nothing

more than a hill, but still, they were huffing and puffing.

It was mid-August, and the pair had decided to leave the city and head to the Adirondacks

for a romantic weekend getaway, or at least a getaway.

Gabe had gone back to school the previous fall to pursue a master of science in nursing and psychiatric mental health nursing.

That on top of his work as an adjunct professor at NYU and still working full-time as a nurse practitioner, was really kicking his ass.

He hadn't taken a true weekend off in months.

...