01 Feb Phobias are Shaped Like Little Green Pills – Ablutophobia
Ablutophobia– Is the fear of bathing, washing, or cleaning. It’s one of the phobias the little green pills have caused me to experience.
Let me start from the beginning, my name is Hayong, and I was given an opportunity to experience fears that few people have gotten to experience. I have never had a phobia in my life, except for heights, and I have never experienced anything paranormal. A large part of me has always wanted to experience any sort of situation that is absolutely terrifying, but yeah, I guess it’s true that those things never happen to the people that search for it.
It all started with a message on Facebook. It was a guy by the name of Max Erckle.
”Hey man, I see that you are into horror, and I was wondering if you were interested in a new drug I developed. I work as a researcher at Vanderbilt University, but of course, this was created on my own free time, and I would really appreciate it if you could take a 7-day sample.”
Vague as hell, but still, the message gained my interest and I responded back after an hour.
”What kind of drug? I mean, what does it do?”
I waited anxiously for a couple more hours before I finally received a message back from him.
”Why don’t you meet me at 100 Oaks Mall, outside of the PetSmart. Let’s say, hm, in one hour? It is a unique drug, it draws out fears that you thought you never had. Of course, it won’t ever get approved by any institution but I felt like this could be our own secret research.”
I tried messaging him back with a couple more questions, but the profile was deleted.
I only lived around fifteen minutes away from the mall, and I had the day to kill, so I thought, “What the hell” and threw on some clothes. You may think I’m absolutely insane to even consider meeting the guy, but to be honest, I am just a bit insane. I really am being honest when I say I want creepy shit to happen to me. I want to experience near death experiences. I have lived a far too mellow life, and I know I have a lot of catching up to do. Anyways, I gave my cat a couple of treats and lovins’ and headed out.
I waited in the car for around 30 minutes, before I saw an older man walk up to PetSmart and look around. Nervously, I grabbed the door handle and got out of my car. As soon as I started walking towards the store, the man stared at me and gave me a small wave. I returned the wave and walked up to him. With my arm extended out I said, “You must be Max, nice to meet you.” He stared at my hand for a couple of seconds before he extended his out as well and gave it a limp shake.
Max: ”I didn’t think you would show up. I’m glad you did. Let’s go to your car and talk.”
Me: ”Um. I don’t really like having people I don’t know get in the car with me. Can we do this somewhere else?”
Max: ”Haaaa, stranger danger. Smart man. Well, we can just sit on one of these benches and talk, but I would like to give you the pills in the car like I said, it needs to be a secret.”
I walked over to the closest bench and sat down. He stood completely still for a couple of seconds before shaking his head a couple of times and sat down next to me.
Me: ”You seem a bit nervous. What exactly does the pill do?”
Max: ”It opens your eyes. It creates phobias that people experience every day, but it only lasts for 24 hours. I wanted to see if experiencing different phobias every day would drive a man insane, or if it would make them understand the world in a different light.”
Me: ”Sorry, but I’m a bit confused. Aren’t the pills all the same? Or do they activate random phobias?”
Max: ”If you keep listening to me, I will explain everything to you. Please try your best to not interrupt.”
He takes a deep breath, gives me a small smile, and continues.
”The pills are all different. I have them labeled as 1-7, and each pill releases a different phobia for you to experience. They are the 7 phobias I have found most interesting. Take, for instance, the first pill will make you experience what it would be like to have Ablutophobia, which in simple terms is, the fear of taking a bath, washing your hands, or taking a shower. Keep in mind, you are the first person to test this drug. I don’t know if it will drive you insane, and I will not take any responsibility for whatever happens to you. If you do take all seven pills and write out what you experienced from each drug, I will pay you $43,000. An odd amount of money, I know, but it is all of the money that is in my bank account.”
He didn’t talk for a couple of seconds. Instead, he just stared out into the parking lot and took a couple of deep breaths.
As soon as I started to speak, he put his hand up and asked, “I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to answer any more questions. Do you want to join my research or would you like to decline?”
Twenty minutes later, I found myself sitting on the couch with a white paper bag in my hands. There were seven green pills with small numbers on them. Yes, I felt dumb for trusting a man I never met in my life, but I knew that if it was real, I would be able to experience absolute fear.
After taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and swallowed the pill marked as “1”. It was 14:45 and I was nervous as fuck.
I felt like making a log was the best possible way to record what happened to me.
15:04 – You know how dirty fingers get? Holy hell, three of my fingers have little spots of black on them. I want to wash my hands, but for some reason, I don’t even want to think about having to wash my hands. I feel like if I do, I’ll die, and no. Nope. Fuck that.
16:28 – I usually take a shower at this time, but have you noticed how dirty the water probably is? I never noticed it, but now that I think about it, the water is dirty. Bacteria, potential diseases, dead bodies in the river, I don’t need to clean, I don’t. There isn’t a reason to torture myself like that.
18:02 – I know, I know it’s the fucking pills. I ran into the bathroom and filled up the bathtub. Sitting on the couch now. Sweat is all over my face, I know I need to clean myself, but every time I get close to the bathtub, I feel like my stomach is going to explode. I already cried twice. Not of sadness, but because I’m fucking scared.
19:44 – No, no, no, no, I can’t do it. I finally managed to muster up enough courage to get to the bath, but I saw him. My father. He was lying in the bath and asking me to come over and help him. I love my dad. I love him so fucking much, but I couldn’t. There were roaches running all over his body. They started to rip up his skin and crawled into his flesh. There were dozens of open gashes all over his body. I ran out. I’m back on the couch. I called my dad, but he didn’t answer. Crying. Sweating. Fucking scared.
22:12 – My dad called me back. He was on a little vacation with my mom. They were celebrating their 28th anniversary. Before he hung up, he told me he was going to take a bath and go to sleep. I begged him to just wait to take a bath. He hung up while I was sobbing on the phone. Figures, he never really liked it when I cried.
07:08 – I had a hard time sleeping. The dried sweat mixed with my feeble attempt at masking it with cheap cologne caused my bedroom to smell like a YMCA locker room. I tried to convince myself to just wipe myself off with water, but I can’t. I ate some breakfast. Eggs, toast and a couple of pieces of bacon. Some yolk got on my hands, but I just wiped it on my pants.
11:52 – I called out of work. My manager was a bit pissed, but after talking to me for a couple of minutes, he could tell I was not well. He told me to get better and hung up. I could hear the sink running on the other end of the line, and it took everything out of me to not vomit.
13:41 – I can feel the phobia draining out of me. It’s a weird feeling. I managed to wash my hands, and rub some water on my neck. I stopped when it felt like I was being strangled by the water. It’s okay. Progress.
15:28 – I took a shower. I was fine. I still couldn’t get the mental image of my father out of my head. I tried calling him again, but he didn’t answer.
18:34 – My mother called me. Dad slipped while stepping out of the bath. He hit his head on the sink, gashed his head, and bled out. She was asleep at the time. She begged me to come see her. She couldn’t get the image of my father out of her head. She said that roaches were walking in the gash of his head and walking back out drenched in his blood.
That was the last log from the first pill. I am still trying to figure out if my father’s death is real, or if the pill is still fucking with me. Just to check, I tried calling my dad’s phone one last time, but he didn’t answer again.
I received a call at 9 in the evening. It was Max. After letting out a couple of deep breaths he said, ”How’d you feel about the first pill? Actually, don’t tell me yet. Tomorrow is going to be a bit more fun. Do you like walking? Maybe you do, Maybe you don’t. Doesn’t matter to me. Just prepare yourself. Again, whatever happens, while you take the pills, I am not responsible for. I just know your life was going to get shitty, and maybe the pills will help you stop a couple of the tragedies. Don’t ask me any questions. It’s not how it works, but keep that in mind. There is more than science involved with this research.”
I know I may be breaking rules posting on here, but I really feel like I should get this out to you guys. Of course, I know the guy’s name isn’t Max. I am also fairly certain he doesn’t work at Vanderbilt, but like he said, it might just help me. For right now, I’m fucking scared of what could happen, and I’m trying to figure out how Max knew what was going to happen to my father. By preventing tragedies, did he mean my phone call could have saved my dad if he had just listened to me? It may be already too late, but shit, if anyone has any knowledge of what I am going through, I would really appreciate any help I can get.
As always, it’s nice talking to the NoSleep community. My name is Hayong, and I am starting to feel like my life is about to get a shit ton more interesting.