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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/itsyaboiFaZeShrek on 2024-11-03 08:00:42+00:00.

I wish I could tell you exactly where this all started, but what I am going to be telling you right now is all just my best recollection as to how it began. I don’t know what is real anymore. Take whatever I say next with a healthy pinch of salt.

The only context that is really needed here is that I am a court reporter. I will go into civil court proceedings, criminal trials, questionings at law firms, you name it. And I will write down whatever is said on my trusty stenomachine. My first recollection of this person or thing is around 2 years ago.

The first time I remember seeing the woman, I was in a questioning about a minor car accident. These proceedings were always quite boring, though sometimes could be very entertaining depending on who was involved.

This particular questioning was of a witness by the name of Gillian Segal. I will use the actual name I was always given because, frankly, good luck finding absolutely anything about this particular woman’s existence. Believe me, I’ve tried. Something about Gillian was… well, something. I guess you could say “off,” but I can’t even describe it in that sense. There was nothing unusual about her appearance or the way she spoke. Gillian was a very unassuming woman and looked like just about anybody you would see walking the street on a normal day.

The one thing that I did find strange was how difficult I found writing her words. When I’m in a proceeding, because I am so used to writing on my machine at this point, I’m usually just staring at a wall. But even though how she spoke was completely normal and at a normal rate of speed, I just couldn’t write her words properly. I could only write her words effectively if I was staring directly at her, and even then it was difficult. When I’m in a law firm setting, I am usually just off to the side somewhere. This is why I found it particularly unsettling when I had to look up at her again to write what she was saying, and she was staring directly into my eyes, unblinking.

The thing that I found scariest about this is that her voice was conveying appropriate emotion, while her face and eyes were not. She continued to talk to the lawyers normally while just staring directly into me with a completely vacant expression. I gave a nervous glance to the lawyers, but they didn’t seem to notice that she was doing this. I turned back to her and she wasn’t staring at me anymore. I didn’t know what else to do but shrug it off, but I left that questioning very unsettled.

This would have been fine if it was a one and done situation.

But a few days later I was scheduled for a preliminary inquiry on a potential drug trafficking trial, in court this time. I’m always given the names of the witnesses beforehand for the purpose of preparation, and there was that name again. Gilian Segal. I have no idea why that name already started to fill me with so much dread. I tried to rationalize it and just laughed it off, just doing my best to find it funny how unlucky this woman was for being a witness to two events in quick succession where she needed to testify.

I arrive in court, and proceedings begin as usual. She was the second witness to testify; and, when she came in, I felt fine at first. Now, unlike the law firm setting, while in court the court reporter is always seated directly in front of the witness. So when she was in the witness box, I would have to do a full 180 degree turn to be able to look at her. This made me nervous because I remember how hard it was the first time to write her words.

It was no different this time. There was just something about this particular woman that inhibited my ability to write which was supposed to be second nature to me by now. I was just frustrated at this point; but, at some point during her testimony, the feeling I got from the previous questioning came back. There was something inside me that just knew that if I turned back, she would be staring directly into me again. My entire body went into a cold sweat.

I did my best to keep writing, and a huge feeling of relief washed over me when she was ordered to stand down. When she was exiting the courtroom, I looked at her, and there was nothing even slightly suggesting that she even knew I was there. I was angry at myself at this point. Why was I being so paranoid? She had done nothing wrong; and, to be honest, I felt guilty for being so scared of her.

When I got home, I sent the rough copy of the transcript and the audio of the proceedings to my proofreader and went about my day, and the thought of Gillian left my mind for a while. That is until I got a call from my proofreader. His name was Mike.

When I answered the phone, I could tell Mike was finding something funny. He explained to me that, at some point during the transcript, my writing began going way off of what was actually being said. He joked to me that it was like I had dozed off and began writing something from a dream or something.

Now, this isn’t unheard of. Sometimes when I have a rough night the day before a job, I will doze off and begin writing complete gibberish until I jolt myself awake again. But there was a feeling that I got when Mike was laughing about this. There was that knowing again. Knowing that, when I took another look at the transcript, I would not like what I saw. I hung up the phone and immediately opened up my file of the rough copy and scrolled down to where Gillian Segal was sworn in.

Everything was relatively normal at first. The difficulty of writing down what she was saying was apparent; although, I could fill in the gaps. But scrolling down further I immediately figured out what Mike was talking about. I started reading something that almost sounded like it was coming from the middle of a story from a children’s book. In the middle of Gillian’s testimony, I read the following:

“Now, this man was always a good reader. Ever since he was a small boy, people would always compliment him on how well he was able to read. His teachers, parents, and friends were always so very impressed by his skill!”

After this, there was something that couldn’t be taken as anything else but foreboding.

“Car. Car. Car. Car. I am on the highway. Stop— “

The regular testimony started again. Then,

“Henday. Weeks. 6.”

The only thing I could connect out of this was Henday and highway, as the Henday is the name of a highway that is close to my city.

The rest of the transcript was relatively normal.

Something about this oddity in my transcript suffocated me with a type of dread I didn’t know was possible. The part about the highway was clearly ominous, but I had no idea who the man the childlike passage was supposed to be about. I guess I would later find out.

Six weeks later I was once again scheduled for a questioning; and, there it was, oh so very unassuming, Gillian’s name again listed along with the witnesses. To be honest, because of how busy I was, while I hadn’t forgotten about her, she was no longer at the forefront of my mind. But reading her name again, a chill that wouldn’t cease for minutes ran through my body. I shivered uncontrollably. I couldn’t blame her showing up repeatedly as coincedence anymore. There’s just simply no way that someone could be called to testify this many times in different cases in such a short period of time. That morning, going to that job was the last thing that I wanted to do. But something pulled me to go, and I couldn’t resist.

When I was at this job, I didn’t even know what it was about. I was too terrified to care and just came to write. I would later find out while going through the transcript that it was about an assault.

The proceedings were mostly a blur to me, but then came Gillian. The familiar cold sweat started; and, as she was walking up to the witness box, for the first time since my first encounter with her, she made fleeting eye contact with me. Now, this could have been me being paranoid, but I swear I saw something in those eyes that seemed like she was smirking at me. There was nothing in her facial expression, but those eyes…

Her testimony started, and this time that horrible feeling was with me the whole time she was behind me. The feeling that at anytime I turned around, she would be staring at me with that horrible vacant look. Something even worse happened this time, though. At some point she just stopped speaking, and the courtroom went silent. As if this thing was just begging me to turn around to look at her. When I looked at everyone in the courtroom, it didn’t seem like everyone else was experiencing what I was. They all still seemed to be listening attentively, even though there was nothing to be heard.

The fear I felt in this moment was indescribable. I was trying to bring myself to look back at her, but as soon as I turned my head just a little bit, I looked down and saw her shoes. She was standing behind me. I immediately forced my eyes shut and tried desperately to convince myself I was imagining this whole thing. After about 10 seconds, I heard a grotesque snicker coming from Gillian that sounded neither like a man or woman. I was no longer able to keep my composure at this point and I almost dove out of my chair. I fell to the ground; and, when I stood back up, Gillian was back in the witness box again, looking at me in confusion. I looked around at everyone else, and they had the same look.

As a form of denial of what I just experienced, I just apologized and sat back do…

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