The Story of Jagged Janice

Welcome to the fictional darkness where we explore the lines between truth and fiction and today we delve a little deeper into the fictional side of things with a short

story

reading and the title is If You See a Woman with a Toothy Smile. you need to read this as a matter of life and death. This is the

story

on r/No Sleep uh it was posted three years ago, there's a part one and a part two, um, so Josiah will have the honor of reading part one and then I'll continue with part two. I am a government employee.

My name is not important. The only thing you need to worry about is what I have to say. I work in a complex known as the facility within which we conduct research on things that the public would find unappealing. Officially, we are listed as developing experimental weapons, but lately our umbrella has been extended much further. Suffice to say, there are things out there that go bump in the night. You know, legendary, mundane things that exert their influence on us. and challenge explanations, you know that my job is to interview people who believe they have encountered such entities and determine whether their accounts are fact or fiction, what my job is not to do, however, is to share those interviews, however, in In this case, I don't think I have a choice, here's the bill, the room is small, dimly lit, and smells vaguely of stale urine and black mold.

A light hangs over the table between us, swinging back and forth and doing a poor job. Illuminating much of anything, I can still see the man's haggard face. and the fields on my clipboard is enough, it will do. I asked the man to tell me a story and it begins. It happened in the cabin. He says he is about 20 years old, with a long nose and a 5:00 shadow when he reaches for a cigarette. His hands shake like a 1950s truck, it's not my cabin. He adds that it belonged to Emily, but she invited the three of us.

My pen scratches my clipboard. Four people for leisure. I'll assume he raises an eyebrow at me. Yeah, I guess a laugh escapes me. His lips are short and uncomfortable, why else do people go to cabins? We wanted to get drunk on drugs we forgot our problems for the weekend you know, like normal people do, of course, I say marking his response, his dark eyes toward the camera in the corner of the room. and his tongue slides across his lips they are cracked, cracked and bleeding he looks worse than a mess he looks like a mess the cameras say what's the problem with them you said you weren't a police officer I don't reassure him the cameras are for my own records events encounters in Paranormal it's complicated stuff you know, sometimes we catch elements on recording that we would otherwise miss in person.

He stares at me as his lip curls between his teeth, biting it, it's a look I've seen before the look where he wonders if maybe he's being set up he wonders if this is a covert operation he's taking the bait I'm going to have to throw him in. a pychard or worse it's better if you tell me everything I say placing my clipboard on the desk between us I'm not here to get you locked up just to get some answers a moment of dead air floats between us it's the kind of moment I recognize who is weighing the situation measuring me wonders if this crazy moron feels comfortable talking about something with a complete stranger then takes a deep breath followed by a deep drag and puts out the cigarette sure he says he taps a finger on the desk and gathers his thoughts it happened Late at night, the four of us had been drinking in the cabin. making mushrooms but we all slept outside in a tent since the place is full of spiders I hardly ever got used to it why I check a box labeled intoxicated he shrugs his shoulders bad memories I think I tilted my head to the side inviting him to continue the cabin to which it belonged Emily's mother, he explained, she died when M was a little girl and the place had been a mausoleum ever since.

M m thinks she has a bad charm. Now what do you think? What do I think he answers? I think he fades from his eyes. losing focus looking at the splintered wooden table between us he suddenly seems far away there's a blankness in his expression a disconnection I wonder if he's thinking about Legends and Nightmares I was wondering if he's thinking about Janice spotty, is everything okay I ask him, he blinks and then He nods, my pen scratching my clipboard. The subject seems traumatized, avoidant. What's that? Ask what you are writing. He leans forward with his slim figure dwarfing the table as he narrows his eyes on my form.

I push it away, it's private, why do you know my notes? could influence his account. I would prefer those prejudices to be avoided. His face wrinkles and he clenches his jaw. Now I say please continue. He looks angry as he sits in his chair angrily, he's biting his lips again and his fingers are hitting the table like a Gatling gun. I have no doubt that this guy has been through a lot, but I need to make sure he's telling the truth and to do that he can't know anything, nothing at all. Well, he says at length, we'll do it your way, yeah.

We always do what I said, we were drinking at the cabin exchanging old war stories from high school, talking about stupid jokes we made or places we labeled or teachers we hated, we reflected very quickly, although we got drunk enough for things to happen. were deeper. I started talking about all the silly surface and started talking about the things that really meant something to us, the things that set our souls on fire. Well, that's a poetic phrase. You are a writer. He shrinks his shoulders. Let me rephrase. Would you describe yourself as someone active? imagination the man studies me the computer spins again in his head he wonders if I'm making him admit that he's crazy he wonders if I'm calculating how much antipsychotics would be needed to counteract his paranoia and what size straitjacket would best fit him his scarecrow structure, but I'm not going to do any of that, the truth is that I don't care if he's crazy or perfectly lucid.

I don't give a damn, all I care about is whether he saw it or not. Jagged Janice and that he is not another liar my imagination is nothing special, he says at length now I can tell my story or you will continue to interrupt I smile, sure, go ahead, he takes a breath and reserves half a second to look at me. The four of us are drinking at M's cabin and she starts to get depressed, she's usually a pretty optimistic person, so I ask her what's wrong and she says that she's been feeling a little tormented since she returned to the cabin.

She raised an eyebrow at him. Brother, the man sighs, shaking his head as if he were determining how best to phrase her next words. her brother died in the cabin drowned in the ocean 100 meters from the front door Emily saw it happen she saw her brother drown he nods she was 3 years old she didn't understand what was happening there was really nothing she could do I see that It's a sad story but it's not really what I came here for. Worse still, nothing matches the irregular Janice Legend. The man looks at me and disbelief swims in his eyes.

Anything else, he murmurs, "No, that's it. She watched him die." to her brother and that made her feel like I wasn't here for Emily's story, I'm here for yours, you'll excuse me if I forget to feign empathy. to a woman I've never met I check a box labeled confrontation and rest my pen on the clipboard now then you said you were drinking talking what happened after that his jaw is clenched he looks like he wants to punch me in the face and I honestly wouldn't blame him, but instead he takes a drag on a cigarette and leans back in his chair, we drink and talk until our eyes fall out, he says, and then we go to bed, it's like any other night, I guess, to a point.

There is an implication in her words, but I will address that later for now. I need more details. I need to understand the event scenario as clearly as possible. The police report. I say, looking at my copy of the document. mentions the incident. What happened inside the cabin is like that, that's how it is, can you describe the design to me? He scratches the back of his neck with a frown there is an image painted in his mind colored by memories it is a cabin in the shape of a capital T there are two bedrooms on either side of the tea and at the top the center is a bathroom, the bottom of the Tea is the living room and kitchen and the entrance door is quite simple.

I make a quick sketch on my form according to the report of the event that occurred in the bathroom I would like you to talk about it, his eyes narrow his mouth, he twitches, he draws in his cigarette as if it were the last drag he would take, slow and long. , burns it down to the filter, his eyes bloodshot, and drops it in the ashtray. You have more of these, I'm sure I'll reach inside my jacket and pull out a package and throw it to him. The man catches it and opens it. His hands are shaking.

They shake so hard that he can barely light the smoke after sliding it. in his mouth, let me, I offer you no, he says I have it, the lighter lights up and a flame comes to life, he places it under his dart until an ember glows, then the man leans back, gives a deep draft and expels a storm cloud. You're the real deal, uh, sorry, the real deal, you actually believe me, don't you? Maybe I'm telling the truth. I'm still making up my mind, you said you four stopped drinking to go sleep in your tents I guess.

What happened after that? He leaves the cigarette in ashes. Nature Calls. I have to grab a cigarette, so I get up and head to the cabin when I unzip the tent, although I can't see the land in front of me. It's pitch black outside. There is no moon. He shrugs I wasn't looking for one, all I know is I have to take one and I'm not using the house, it smells worse than death so I head to the cabin once I get in, although I get a feeling strange. above me strange feeling like I'm being watched promising The place feels EMP empty lonely it's just me the bugs and the light from my phone the light creates shadows all over the dusty refrigerator the messy shelves the messy counters there are a thousand shapes around moving with each I pass by and I have this feeling of I don't know, fear invades me as if I were not sure, the man pauses.

Beads of sweat roll down his forehead, "I'm sorry," he says, "he just hasn't thought about it that much since the night it happened." Don't worry, I tell him I've answered complicated things and most of the time they leave scars, it's okay, take your time, he takes a minute, catches his breath like I said. I don't feel safe in there, but I am. I'm drunk enough that he doesn't affect me. I still have a ringing sound from early in the evening. You know, I think to myself that I came to take a drink and some creepy shadows aren't going to stop me.

He laughs to himself and shakes his head at him, but a few seconds later I'm in the bathroom closing the door behind me. I figure why take the risk. He's nervous, nervous, his legs jump up and down and shake the table. He is starting to affect my ability to write. Do you want a glass of water, I asked him, I'm fine, I grabbed the pitcher and poured him a cup by sliding it across the table, he looks at it for a moment and then grabs the glass, brings it to his lips and drowns it in a gulp.

I'll serve you another. he says, wiping his lips. I'm about to unbutton and relieve myself when I see movement. It's in the top corner of the bathroom, in one of those little toilets. Windows like those that are cloudy on the bottom for privacy or whatever, but clear on the side. up to let in the light. I've seen that is when you witnessed the event that's where I saw the smile Jagged Janice, describe it honestly. I start to sound hesitantly worried. I'd rather not describe the smile if you could, wouldn't you? Better just talk about the event instead, smiling is part of the event.

I reminded him that it's important that we get as much detail as possible, no matter how uncomfortable your memories may be, he looks down and his eyes go out of focus, the smile is just a row of teeth, but the teeth are too big and too sharp to belong to a human and there are so many that I reviewed my notes. Consulting renderings of Janice Jagged contained in the old email exchange from the early 2000s. I would like to know more. about these teeth why teeth are important describe them please the man feels uncomfortable he moves in his seat like quicksand and when he speaks his voice breaks but he gives me what I want teeth she serrated says serrated almost its length is about all the place some barely break their gums others stretch cutting their lips their fingers move again they are hitting the metal table tap tap tap when I see the smile my heart starts pounding and I freeze standing there in the dark bathroom with only the light from my phone my mind is reeling I I don't know who that smile belongs to I I I don't want to be seen so I hold my phone to my chest as tight as I can I drown out the light the light I say did the women show an adverse reaction Janis, according to his legend, lower the light, no, he says shaking his head.

I don't know, I can'tRemembering small details, you pause and drink a glass of water before taking another drink at that point. mostly just adrenaline there's a storm running through me and screaming at me to run or fight or scream fight just do something anything but I can't I stand there staring at his inhuman teeth and his horrible twisted smile with my phone pressed against my chest like a crucifix, the smile begins to fade, descending until it is just a blur behind the hazy part of the window. Place both of his eyes, the man breathes shuddering, trembling, they are at a wide angle, everything is wrong and they are dripping. black fluid they they they They rush through the bathroom while they are looking for something I stay as still as I can as if I were paralyzed there is no light in the room, except for a little bit of moon that frames the monster in the window so I let myself melt into the darkness, I do not move an inch and I pray to God that the creature cannot see me there.

Shivers reaches for the cigarette and takes a drag, then I hear the tapping on the window, tap, tap, followed by this chattering sound and it takes me a second to realize it's his teeth. opening and closing together, opening and closing again and again I don't want to look at her I don't want to, but a part of me can't stop and I look up and see her eyes looking at me two little black dots and a sea of ​​white my breathing stops my pulse stops. accelerates beads of urine run down my leg now it's just the two of us looking at each other I leaned forward my interest peaked much of her description could have been taken from the cha Janice Legend the small black pupils the row of inhuman teeth I check the features in my clipboard while he says what is she doing she ask him when you look into her eyes he swallows she speaks oh what does she say she says he stutters I see you I write the words down and circle them three times they are not familiar to me describe his voice to me did he sound young and old?, her voice was quiet, difficult to hear, the words sounded as if they had been taken from a wood chipper, her pronunciation was broken and unnatural. as if they had been cut by those teeth, curious, I murmur, his fingers stretch out and he taps the glass again, tap, tap, I risk looking again and all I can see is his terrible serrated smile on the window, he's staring at me. making you nauseous.

I've never been so scared, you know? I close my eyes wishing the feeling would go away for just a second, but when I opened them again the smile was gone, it's just me alone in the bathroom, he puts his face in his hands and the armor falls. He pushed his shoulders away quickly with silent sobs. I give it a minute and then another is that everything I asked for was not answered. It is evident that his story has reached its conclusion. Disappointing to say the least. A heartbreaking experience. I say giving my form one last swipe with my pen.

With a sigh I stand up from my chair, reaching out to shake his hand on behalf of the facility. I would like to thank you for taking the time to share it with me. The man sobs more and more. He blinks at me with red, puffy eyes. and when he speaks, his voice is barely audible, he's not finished, he says there's more, my heart beats as I withdraw my handshake, a smile creeps across my face as I sit back in my chair, centering my clipboard in front of me. me, something else. it happened, yes, he says, wiping his nose on his sleeve, the next few hours are going to turn into a nightmare, let's finish part one, part one, okay, thoughts, questions, worries, reminds me of Jeff the Killer, mhm, reminds me a bit. a little bit of that, yeah, it's fair, you know, it's well written, you know, yeah, it's fun to read at least, um, yeah, I mean it was pretty simple so far, this second part seems to be about the same length, so I guess I can approach it okay, okay, if you see a woman with a toothy smile, you should read this as a matter of life and death, part two, finale, okay and feel free to interrupt if you have any comments or anything , Alright.

I have clicked. my pen crawls don't you say now it's my turn to take a breath to center myself and calm my nerves how unfortunate yes you could say he says sarcasm thick in his voice please continue then it takes me 10 minutes before I can muster the courage to open the bathroom door, when I do it, I do it gently, quietly, you can barely hear the fucking hinges. Creek, that's how careful I am. I peek through the crack looking for the smiling woman, terrified that I'll leave. see her standing in the living room waiting for me, but there is no one else in the cabin, it's just me, so I leave moving across the wooden floor, which creaks and groans with every step I take and every time my heart skips a beat.

I hope she sees her jump out of the darkness. Now I see the smile everywhere, in every shadow and in every window. I want to scream and scream. I want to call my friends at the store and beg them to pull. Get me out of this horror, but they are beyond the door of the cabin, at the other end of the yard, they are a world away and your phone, I ask you, you never thought of using it to call for help, yes, of course, he says, putting eyes rolled back. I'm on a Backwater Island off the rural coast of British Columbia. “I have great cell service there,” he shakes his head.

I couldn't get a cell signal if I climbed to the top of the tallest tree. My phone was a glorified flashlight. good point, since I can't call for help, I settle in, have my hand on the front door handle and am ready to open the door and scream, damn murder, run to my friends and tell them we have to do it. Start the truck now because there's a monster on the island and that's when I heard his fingers drumming on the metal desk, tapping, tapping, tapping on the window next to the front door. I see a long arm and a frayed sleeve with crooked fingers playing against the glass they are drumming a somewhat horrible rhythm their noise disguised as a song then I hear it again I see you he says in a deep, guttural voice the tapping becomes faster and louder I walk away out of the door window and I fall back into the shadow of the cabin, he must be 12T tall because his head leans towards the window frame from the top, his eyes shine in the moonlight, they move and they spin again in ways they shouldn't be able to.

He's searching again. for some reason I Maybe I don't know the man finishes his cigarette and takes a new one out of the package he lights it trembling and inhales the nicotine her expression softens then she leaves she says he has become disappointed again there is nothing the irregular Janice mythology that the indicates Disappearing and reappearing at regular intervals gone he confirms that I am alone time passes minutes maybe hours I don't know I sit in the living room with my ears and eyes attentive to any sound, any movement, anything. I'm shaking and breathing in short bursts terrified if I breathe too hard she'll hear me I wonder how long it's been how long until the sun comes up someone wakes up and comes to check on me or use the bathroom.

I consider using my phone to check the time, but the thought of the black light on it giving me away terrifies me, so I don't. I sit there and wait, how long do you wait until dawn? He laughs, takes another drag, no, he says we need one in the meantime, but I finally calmed down or maybe I got too scared to keep sitting there doing nothing maybe just I need to make sure this nightmare has an end. I don't know, he bites his nail, shaking as I pull my phone out of my pocket. Shaking like a leaf I turn it on and my home screen lights up my face like I'm about to tell a campfire story what time is it 3:34am? m. 2 hours before dawn at the time of year the size of a man running a handal?

His jaw is too long for me I can't do it you know, I decided to do something now before the woman comes back because I have this horrible feeling that the next time she shows up she will be inside the cabin that I will find, so I tell myself Let me run away, wake up my friends, it's easy. I think I'll open my mouth and scream at the top of my lungs and that way, even if she gets in the way, at least everyone on the island will wake up. and maybe i'll get out of there in one piece so i do it i open my mouth and scream but nothing happens he says quietly his expression darkens tears slip from the corners of his eyes and his lip trembles again without a sound instead out of that comes a long, crooked hand that wraps around my mouth, pulls my head back and I smell rotting decomposition into algae and a voice whispers in my ear like a lawnmower.

I see you, Janice. I lean forward looking at him expectantly. How did he do it? You leave, wiping your eyes and choking on the last of his sobs. I have no idea. I passed out when I woke up. She was no longer in the cabin. I was in the hospital bed surrounded by my friends. The same ones from the cabin. Right, I check a box on the form labeled Survivor, then chew on the back of my pen for a second before checking a second box. Post-traumatic stress affected and what these friends say. Something useful. They tell me it's all their fault.

He says murmurs. about how we never should have gone out to the cabin in the first place Steve and Haley blame themselves for letting me get exceptionally drunk he flashes a bittersweet smile everyone wants a piece of the blame my eyes go to the man filing you said the island was remote I'll assume the hospital wasn't local no, it says it was off the island an hour or so inland I must have been away at least a day because I don't remember traveling there interesting, a recurring aspect of Janice's mythology is a feeling of mild amnesia and the presence of mild to severe bite wounds, what did the hospital treat you for?

Clears throat, mild concussion and water, my lungs, water in your lungs. I shake my head. drop my pencil maybe I should be happy that the young man survived the terror that visited him that night, but many parts of his story do not match the mythology at all, you are sure you have water in your lungs, that's true, He says doctors don't. Get it either, I didn't even get a chance to take a dip in the ocean let alone drown, okay let me get this straight so your friends can leave you some get well cards and discharge you a couple of days later.

I lie down. the chair crosses my arms does that about some things the man looks away rubbing his arm not exactly says Darkly before leaving I tell them about the smiling woman I ask them if they have seen a tall woman with razor sharp teeth lurking around the Island Steve and Haley look at each other like I've hit my head harder than anyone thought. The look in their eyes is like they are terrified. I have caused brain damage. Steve squeezes my arm and apologizes over and over. Haley agrees and says I drove them there so they should have let me and your other friend get some sleep.

I ask Emily. She's standing there looking at me and her eyes are full of I don't know regret, but she's different from Steve and Haley. She doesn't seem like she feels sorry for me. She seems like she really blames herself for all of this. I say her name. Emily. Ask her if she has seen it. the woman because I have a feeling she has, I slide my pen across my clipboard and circle a word that says Witness before writing it down with a little question mark, how does she respond, she leaves, she says with a sigh, no.

I think she wants to. to talk about that woman at least not in front of Haley and Steve pretty soon everyone leaves it's just me again in some little hospital on the outskirts of nowhere the only company I have is the apple tree outside my window and shit TV I sleep quite restless that night tossing and turning and I wake up at one point to the sound of tapping and I look out the window in horror expecting to see that woman again, but it's just the apple tree, its branches brushing against the glass. I wonder if this is just my life from now on if all I hear is the slightest sound in the night I'm going to wake up in a cold sweat thinking the woman is coming back for me then the door opens my body full-blown panic sets in, my breathing is labored in my chest, my muscles tense and it's like that night again with the smiling woman where I can't move an inch out of fear, an inch out of fear, but it's just Emily, she says.

Laughing in disbelief, he stops at the door and asks if he can come in. I tell her of course she can and she doesn't bother turning on the lights when she gets to my bed. I can see her face more clearly. In the light from the window, she looks rough. Her eyes have these heavy bags and her cheeks are all red and stained from crying. She wipes the snot on her sleeve and asks for forgiveness over and over again. Sorry I invited you to the cabin. I say trying my best not to roll my eyes. I had never seen a group of friends with such a guilty conscience.

No, the man says he regrets not telling me about the woman. He said he thought the woman was gone, otherwise she would never have returned to that place. What he snapped forward with his eyes fixed. She told him that she knew about the woman. He nods. She said that the circumstances of her brother's death were different than what she had told us.originally he didn't drown he wasn't accidentally he was murdered a woman attacked them on the beach a woman with a terrible smile and her tangle of messy black hair covering her face, dragged Em's brother backwards across the sand cushioning his screams with her hand and then held him under the waves, kept him there until he stopped moving and then let the tide take him away, disturbing I say and she never mentioned this to her parents, she did.

Her father told her it was just her imagination. He said that her brother had fallen into the ocean and been swept away and that it was hard enough to deal with without Emily adding anything. then Emily has just buried the moved memory the man looks at me with his dejected expression that's when we hear it he says in the hospital room a tapping tap tapping comes from the window to my right the one with the old apple tree the woman don't look at him I tell Emily not to look either I tell her to focus on me to ignore the sound I don't know what she saw when she was a girl by the ocean, but I don't want her to see what I saw in the cabin he closes the shutters I don't want her to see the smile he listens to you he grabs a handful of her hair closes his eyes no he says quietly she looks and when he does he screams he screams so loud the lights go out We go down the hall and I hear the night nurse call and start running.

Emily runs to the window. I see it out of the corner of my eye because I still refuse to look at the pain of the glass but I hear Emily bang against the wall with her fists scratching it with her nails then the nurse explodes and takes Emily away Emily calls a patrol to pick her up. take him home the man takes a breath and puts his face in his hand and rubs his eyes I text him an hour later just to make sure he's okay and yeah, I say, cutting him off, I take a look at the folder on my desk labeled correspondence and then to the watch on my wrist, okay it's 3: morning and I'm jetlagged the essence of man's history seems to have run its course if texts are all that's left when I can read them on my own I get up from the desk I offer him my hand to shake it he gives it a week uh reluctantly he squeezes avoiding my eyes then leaves the room without saying another word I sigh sitting back down in the steel chair another long day another dead end I adjust my glasses and pull out the text logs.

There's only a handful of message receipts. The possibility is slim, but the possibility that there's something in there about Jagged Janice encourages me too much to put them aside for tomorrow. Remind me what the toothed Janice is looking for. I don't remember exactly that at the beginning of the story she didn't do it. He didn't specify that he was um, that it was, just, uh, he didn't say how he knew, just, uh, it just sounds exactly the same, the only thing he found was the ICU, he didn't know about that. I start reading while I do it.

I take note of the timestamps. Words do the work of painting a picture, but time and location give context to everything. 1:34 I guess this is like 1:34am. or something like that. It's the temporary posture, so, yeah, yeah, so 134 Dorian, are you okay? 212 Emily, not really 212 Dorian, did you see her? uh I'll keep reading this without the timestamps um CU, it's a lot, uh, unless I make a significant jump, okay? so 212 you dress her up and then 30 minutes go by 2:45 Dorian M Sorry, that was a stupid message, it's okay Dorian, I guess you don't feel like talking, it might actually be good for me, yeah, it's okay for me.

I also didn't get a chance to tell you before, but I can't imagine how horrible it must have felt to see what happened to your brother and for your dad to not believe you, it's okay, we were never close anyway, I'm sorry to hear, right? did you ever do it? Tell your mom, I mean, before she passed away, no mom was dying anymore and dad would have killed me. I'm a how could I forget something like that? Sorry again, you're not a, you're right. She would have told him about Jonas. If she could have by then, she was so high on painkillers, uh, even though I almost didn't recognize her.

The medications must have been pretty heavy, that's a lot for a four year old to deal with. Wait, Emily was four when she. saw this happen, yeah, well, I think before she said three no's, but maybe they said four, damn, so when she saw the murder, yeah, yeah, no wonder why no one believed her, she drowned, yes, exactly, yes, his esophageal cancer was serious, he was in a lot of pain near the end and I'm rarely in a good mood. I'm pretty sure dad was having an affair at the time too. something, he's the guy, who?, he's the one that was being interviewed, yeah, but they never said his name in the first part, okay, so he was the one that had the experience, though yeah, okay, so He is Dorian.

Okay, it's good to know that Dorian I did it. I don't know that now the audience knows, uh, let's see, blah, blah, blah, shitty memory to bring up, uh 303, don't be. I think I repress a lot of old memories of her, which is probably unhealthy, honestly, if it weren't for I'd probably think I'm going crazy right now Dorian why did I see her too The smiling woman and then that's 306 6 she doesn't respond 307 Dorian M and then 334 Emily my mother I see my mother I stare at the word in stunned silence her mother could have really been the origin of the legend.

I rub my jaw with my hand considering what I've heard about Emily's story. She was only 4 years old at the time of her brother's death when she witnessed a crazed woman being dragged into the sea by a woman she could not identify because her black hair obscured her face. Could that woman have been her own mother? It doesn't seem very likely, but it doesn't seem impossible either. Children often reframe Terror and Identification moments to I understand the incomprehensible I take my briefcase, unzip the latches on the front of uh on the front and take out my laptop.

I take a breath and then open the database software. Emily is pretty easy to find. Her last name is plastered everywhere on social media. media, so I plug that into the search function. It's not the fastest, but it works: the little rotating hourglass takes 30 seconds to stop spinning and when it does I see your subject Emily Caldwell, father, Harold Caldwell, mother , Janice Caldwell, deceased, Janice. there's the legend oh my god Janice Janice Janice Janice soprano I swallow my handshake on the keyboard if I had finally found Jagged Janice I pour myself a glass of water finishing it in two giant gulps recently to calm my nerves still it's a piece of the puzzle solved, but in reality it only creates more questions, it does not explain several aspects of the history of man, the water in the lungs, for example, or the disappearance of certain pieces from their encounter do not add up, at least not in comparison to the original .

Legend that there's a knock on the door three sharp knocks with a knuckle what three sharp knocks it's like a gr it's like a gr and por rap tap tap yeah, yeah, okay, it's not like it's not like a rap, you know, I'm pretty sure there was a hip-hop artist ready to kill some bars like I heard you been talking and looking for me, I'm ripped to shreds 'cause I'm Jagged Janice, I've got sharp teeth and a big smile 'cause I'm cutting sweet rhymes, okay? ? then Jag Jus comes in with his bling um cool three sharp wraps with a knuckle.

I get up to answer it, thinking that maybe the man has forgotten his phone number or wants to give me back my pack of cigarettes. When I open the door, there is no one. I raise an eyebrow. and I go back to my laptop. I need to discover the source of these changes, these deviations from Janice's irregular mythology. This time I open my web browser and navigate to one of my favorite resources on the urban legends website. It's a little cheesy, but it has proven to be accurate and is The community aspect has been invaluable in my research.

After scrolling a bit, Janice's spotty article appears. People can leave an encounter and make encounters below the main text, and sometimes they do. Usually everyone is one of them. Didn't he just say he was trustworthy? the original article, but the answers are stupid, usually sorry, go ahead, yeah, okay, one of them catches my attention, though, yeah, I read that weird one. One of them catches my attention, however, he mentions seeing the toothy smile, the tapping fingers, and that they found his baby. dead child with water in his lungs I shake my head, a coincidence, that's all.

I keep scrolling more keywords from the keyboard jump at me there and then they're gone voice like a meat grinder into the sea with you I pause those are the words Emily said words she remembers I remembered when she saw her brother being dragged into the ocean out to sea with you my mind is spinning but an image is forming the guttural voice difficult to understand the muffled brother the words I see you no, she was never saying those words, she was not actually saying to the sea with you, the man heard wrong or maybe not was able to understand correctly due to Janice's damaged voice in her Panic, she probably defaulted to the simplest sounding phrase, my heart is racing.

I grabbed my phone to make a call and tell my boss what I found out that not long ago the facility had an incident with a man with a red notepad one in which we learned the basic principle of all the legends and one that cost him life to many people legends evolve legends evolve if the toothed Jenis Legend has evolved, we need to allocate additional resources to locate and neutralize it. I continue scrolling noting that many of the anecdotes have been posted in the last week, several in the last few days, even if half of them are true, it implies greatly increased activity on Janice's part.

I hear another knock on the door, three soft wraps, I curse, leave my desk and walk over to the door phone that is still pressed against my face waiting for my boss to answer once again. I open it and once again stare into a cold void. hallway I slam the door and go back to the table my phone keeps ringing and my boss keeps ignoring my call it's really not like her but I tell myself to relax, she's probably sleeping by my watch it's too late 3 :34 a. m. in the morning 3:34 in the morning to do, to be precise, that makes me a maybe, but this discovery is too big, too dangerous to ignore.

Janice is out there and she's on the move. I've decided to post this before I leave. Call it a hunch or a bad feeling, but I want to make sure there's a record of what I've done here. Three more knocks sound. These are softer than before, softer, almost. Blows, that's all, so it seems. overall not exactly what we expected but not quite you know it's good to read the reddit urban legend story urban my little green light went off right when the story died does that mean anything? I think I hear a knock on my door, um, at the end of I don't know if you still have it open, at the end it has some X's to click on and then there are pictures, mhm.

Jagged J saw a very cool design yeah well the story was fun to read read it it was a Classic Reddit Horror Story mhm um kind of an intriguing backstory uh for Jag Janice I guess um did it cover anything as far as what are the goals of J Jagged Janice, what is the overall purpose? I don't know, it's just just messing with people who are creepy and have eaten their teeth, yeah, well, it's weird because the backstory was like she was focused on that cabin and then the narrator seemed like he heard stories of everywhere about it, yes, but it doesn't really touch much. as far as and then the cabin was near the ocean or okay yeah okay so I don't know just kind of a middle of the road story honestly it's pretty middle of the road yeah it was fun to read although we should do it again though maybe. something that's a little better, oh yeah, sure we'll have to keep looking and find something good, but, yeah, yeah, until next time I guess, and actually yeah, please comment and tell us some stories that maybe we can read , uh, tell us. some inspiration, some, some links, maybe some popular ones, that you like and all that, and we can take a look at them and give some ideas on them, unfortunately, this one doesn't have a lot of ideas to have, it's a bit, yeah, it's good. okay, yeah, okay, now let's set off into the darkness that may or may not be fictional.

Do you think this was true or fictitious? I think it's completely true, completely, definitely, there's more real than anything we've ever talked about. There is definitely some secret facility of the government agency, the facility that searches for spooky legends and myths.