Horror Stories to Fall Asleep To
Aug 21, 2026 · 1 hr 18 min · 12 segments
**I Struck a Tuning Fork on the Ground at 3 AM. Something Horrifying Answered.** **About the Production:**This is a fictional story written, edited, and produced by a human. Because I’m a a terrible…
Mickey dropped his truck keys in the snow and then threw up beside the driveway.
He'd been standing there with both hands pressed against his stomach, shaking hard enough that his trucker jacket kept moving after the rest of him stopped.
The keys slipped through his fingers and landed under the truck.
He looked at me like I was supposed to know what to do.
I was in the other half of the duplex, still wearing my work jeans and flannel shirt, even though I hadn't had a mill job in three months.
The rent was overdue.
The heat bill was on the counter with the red notice showing through the envelope.
"'Mickey, what happened?' He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
His face looked gray under the porch light.
Just take the truck for one run, Eric.
What run? I'll explain after.
He bent over again, but nothing came up this time.
His hands were shaking so badly he had to brace one against the side of the truck.
When I stood up, he was still watching me.
How long? One night.
Where? I can't tell you yet.
I looked at him.
Please, he said, just take it for one run.
$10,000.
Cash.
That got my attention.
Not because $10,000 sounded like good money.
It did.
But Mickey didn't have $10,000 and he didn't talk about money unless he was already out of options.
You have 10,000? Not me.
Then who? He looked toward the road.
Just wait.
He'll be here.
I should have gone inside.
I should have called somebody, although I wasn't sure who.
Instead, I helped Mickey into the passenger C-Tex and stood there while he tried to get his hands around the steering wheel.
They wouldn't stop shaking.
A car pulled into the driveway a few minutes later.
Gray sedan, clean enough that it looked wrong, parked beside Mickey's truck and our trash cans.
Kai got out wearing a gray suit and a dark overcoat.
He was tall and spare, with close-cut iron-gray hair and polished shoes that didn't sink much into the snow.
He carried a black case in one hand.
He looked at Mickey, then at me.
Eric Dominguez? Who are you? Kai Bates? He said it like an introduction was enough.
Maybe for him it was.
Mickey opened the passenger door.
"'He'll do it.' "'No,' I said.
Kai didn't look surprised.
He set the case on the hood of the truck and opened it.
Inside were several thick bundles of cash held together with paper bands.
The money was real.
I knew what cash looked like.
I'd spent enough years getting paid in envelopes at the mill.
"'Ten thousand dollars,' Kai said.
"'The payment is already yours.' I haven't agreed to anything.
That is correct.
He lifted one bundle from the case and held it out.
I didn't take it.
Behind me, Mickey made a weak sound.
I turned and saw him gripping the edge of the door, his knuckles white.
His hands were still shaking.
What's wrong with him? I asked.
Kai knows.
Kai's eyes stayed on me.
Then find somebody else.
The truck is at risk of repossession.
Your rent is overdue.
The payment would address both matters.
I looked at Mickey.
He wouldn't meet my eyes.
That was the part that decided it, not the money by itself.
Mickey was sick.
The truck was probably the only thing he owned that still worked.
And if he lost it, I was the person who'd have to deal with what came after.
I took the bundle.
Kai closed the case.
What am I delivering? We can discuss the details inside.
He put the case under one arm and walked toward the duplex.
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Mickey dropped his truck keys in the snow and then threw up beside the driveway.
He'd been standing there with both hands pressed against his stomach, shaking hard enough that his trucker jacket kept moving after the rest of him stopped.
The keys slipped through his fingers and landed under the truck.
He looked at me like I was supposed to know what to do.
I was in the other half of the duplex, still wearing my work jeans and flannel shirt, even though I hadn't had a mill job in three months.
The rent was overdue.
The heat bill was on the counter with the red notice showing through the envelope.
"'Mickey, what happened?' He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
His face looked gray under the porch light.
Just take the truck for one run, Eric.
What run? I'll explain after.
He bent over again, but nothing came up this time.
His hands were shaking so badly he had to brace one against the side of the truck.
When I stood up, he was still watching me.
How long? One night.
Where? I can't tell you yet.
I looked at him.
Please, he said, just take it for one run.
$10,000.
Cash.
That got my attention.
Not because $10,000 sounded like good money.
It did.
But Mickey didn't have $10,000 and he didn't talk about money unless he was already out of options.
You have 10,000? Not me.
Then who? He looked toward the road.
Just wait.
He'll be here.
I should have gone inside.
I should have called somebody, although I wasn't sure who.
Instead, I helped Mickey into the passenger C-Tex and stood there while he tried to get his hands around the steering wheel.
They wouldn't stop shaking.
A car pulled into the driveway a few minutes later.
Gray sedan, clean enough that it looked wrong, parked beside Mickey's truck and our trash cans.
Kai got out wearing a gray suit and a dark overcoat.
He was tall and spare, with close-cut iron-gray hair and polished shoes that didn't sink much into the snow.
He carried a black case in one hand.
He looked at Mickey, then at me.
Eric Dominguez? Who are you? Kai Bates? He said it like an introduction was enough.
Maybe for him it was.
Mickey opened the passenger door.
"'He'll do it.' "'No,' I said.
Kai didn't look surprised.
He set the case on the hood of the truck and opened it.
Inside were several thick bundles of cash held together with paper bands.
The money was real.
I knew what cash looked like.
I'd spent enough years getting paid in envelopes at the mill.
"'Ten thousand dollars,' Kai said.
"'The payment is already yours.' I haven't agreed to anything.
That is correct.
He lifted one bundle from the case and held it out.
I didn't take it.
Behind me, Mickey made a weak sound.
I turned and saw him gripping the edge of the door, his knuckles white.
His hands were still shaking.
What's wrong with him? I asked.
Kai knows.
Kai's eyes stayed on me.
Then find somebody else.
The truck is at risk of repossession.
Your rent is overdue.
The payment would address both matters.
I looked at Mickey.
He wouldn't meet my eyes.
That was the part that decided it, not the money by itself.
Mickey was sick.
The truck was probably the only thing he owned that still worked.
And if he lost it, I was the person who'd have to deal with what came after.
I took the bundle.
Kai closed the case.
What am I delivering? We can discuss the details inside.
He put the case under one arm and walked toward the duplex.
