This episode is supported by s axes, american horror stories, the twisted anthology series from ryan murphy returns. Each stand alone, episode contains a new nightmare, delving into horror, myths, legends and lower, don't miss ethics is american horror stories for episode, hulu lean event streaming october, twenty six. Only on hulu this episode was produced with audio effects in full surround sound for the best experience we kindly recommend you listened with headphones irishness I'm often occurs and I have a story. I want to tell you a story of a projector with some shit

these problems so gather round and listen close. At the very end of my last semester, I dropped out of college. I was so close to graduating, bachelors in software engineering, but an awful apart one week before our final exams. I wish I could see that I and leave that that I was trying to make a statement and didn't believe in the school is a business model. I mean I don't. There should be universal free in public

patient period, but that's not why I left now. The truth is I snapped. I broke down, went crazy, totally lost, it whatever name you have four it sure, but the bottom line I just couldn't, take it anymore, I will admit it. I don't want anyone says about me, but unlike them, I I can admit when I have a problem. Of course, none of them want to listen. None of them understand that I wasn't the problem, I could handle the stress the curriculum, the great losing shouted the masters programme, the boy, the break up I don't that was manageable, but what I really couldn't stand but I couldn't tolerate for one more microsecond was that damn projector cs ease

fifteen machine learning and applications. In order to get my, ray. I had to take the class there's no way around it. Just like how there was no way around who taught it. Professor Whitlow was infamous amongst the stem department at Emma you for being one most rigid professors on campus. He rarely deviated from his syllabus enforced approval, attendants policy, truly, the only excuse for missing one of his lectures was that you were dead. I had a colleague who was held back two semesters because of him granted one of those times he was shit faced at a mountaineers game, but the other time his grandma had literally died so yeah I was stuck with professor cold heart and every one of his lectures, which meant I was stuck sitting in the same as that projector now the stem building at mount aided university has long been overdue for remodel. I mean some of

Worms are still missing outlets and, due to it's outdated design, most classrooms are equipped with less than the bare bones needed to teach a modern course. Yet none of that would have to be endured if only the head of the department pushed for some renovations, but can you guess who that is that's right and just like his syllabus, professor Whitlow is very comfortable keeping to the

same classroom equipment he's probably used for over two decades, so riding along every one of his lectures was that abhorrent machine. I remember when he first rolled it out a hawk base, atop a squeaky black tower and the large overhead projector looked more like a siege ramp than a piece of tech. I think I laughed because who wouldn't this had to be a joke right I mean I had heard about professor whitlow traditional teaching methods, but this this was archaic. This piece of junk had to be from the early two, thousands at least

He turned on the machine, but of course it still needed to warm up, not a red flag, but some expired frozen meal that should have been trashed, but now has been so carelessly selected as today's dietary food poisoning and a horrible sound it may as it stirred from its slumber. Rubbing scratching sound like a like. A hive of bees were bustling beneath the plastic characters. I exchanged a worried glance with the rest of the class, but professor whitlow carried on he had with him a stack of slides, all translucent and printed on film. A few more minutes of the projector had reached critical mass, blinding burning ray that drilled into the wall, even from the side that glint that blaze stung at the corner of my eye. I know professor Whitlow gave some half hearted excuse for his medieval methods,

it's something like the quality of the lecture comes from the material, not the tools, api experience or the learning environment. It tickles me nothing. I mean if someone wants to use an abacus fine, but don't try and sell me that it's better than modern computing he's an idiot and he's stuck in his ways period, but like I said I didn't, have any issue with professor Whitlow after I was only four one semester. I could endure his idiocracy for that long, but that projector. That was the issue. That was the problem and before you say, oh, it's just a projector. No believe me, I know if it was just a projector, I mean think about it, could just a projector strip

you're sanity could haunt you day and night and ruin your entire life. Now that's law, but this wasn't just projector. I realized something was wrong. Around the same time we got our midterms back. Of course, I knew from day one the projector was detrimental to our education, but I guess I underestimated just how detrimental that was. My grades had begun to slip. Wasn't a big deal. I mean. Who can blame me given her? sure, but also has focused on more important things like like the bastards programme. I have been working tirelessly studying for entry. Exams compiling references and letters of recommendations. If reading letters of recommendations,

I have lost some sleep because at the same time my grove ex girlfriend was trying to buy some of my time. Sheaves of parties do and always wanting to go out to have fallen and relax. how could I relax? I was being pulled in every direction. What I needed some rest after one, particularly night. I came home and collapsed straight into my bed. Still wearing my clothes. I closed my eyes and waited eagerly for sleep, but then. without there came a squinted and looked around only to find them. Room was entirely empty, timely dark. So I closed my eyes again, but a few minutes later,

there was again flash. It was a bright light. Almost like someone had shot a later point, a right over my eyes. I looked around this time getting up to see if anyone was messing with me, but I was alone. This time I pulled my blankets over my head and burn my face deep into my pillow, and then you. What blinding throw it out of bed eyes red with rage, but no culprit in sight, ran to the bathroom. We tried washing my eyes in its wisdom type. I couldn't believe it, so I squeeze demon harder press, my palms into my eyes, glass eye. Blinked. Worse and again, flash

gave a flash life lash. By now I signed the light. The scorching glare it was, the burning bulb projector. It was appointed right had made, it was targeting me inside my head. It was ass if every time I closed my eyes, I saw that he was real. Why it looked at me with such discontent. I wanted a bottle. It rapid bites, bottleneck, smash it into the ground, glass or my ears, but only air, and every time I missed mocked me with its glare glass. I swore you glass shattered, along with the illusion.

I stared at the broken mere then at my hand, bloody clenched. I hate my wound from everyone. the next time I showed up to see his e three fifteen. I crossed my arms and covered it. nowadays. Projectors have the capacity to feel humour, but I feel if they did, this one was calling it new. Somehow it knew that I hated it and it hated me. This wasn't just an inanimate thing: it was a living monster, get only I could see it and that's because it only wanted me to know that way. No one would believe me

way. Every one would think I was crazy prohibiting that burma projector it would. me signs in the middle class in front of everyone Would love would put up a slide and here and there a word would be out of focus a letter slightly off and put together they spelt message. Panic episode Or scatterbrain or failure, or get golf. but no one else thought anything of it, because no one else knew every day haunted me every night? It's leapt into my premiums. It waited until I was on, a sleek before its throw me awake eight into my sleek each and every day my focus.

to wait a little bit ITALY, to class, I missed deadlines or even forgot. My girlfriends birthday then I received the letter by all my effort, oh my, operation. I was rejected from the Emma masters programme oh sure I could always reapply, but when one would I get back all had wasted time. Who would it's going to given that the reason I failed wasn't because a mine aptitude, but because of that machine, but that machine just so content its jolly hum? was all I could hear now over professor witless quibbling. Four owning worthless

lectures. You know at times even saga, those wretched little devils that head beneath the screen. I would catch their little shadows, flickering across the projector scattering forms crawling along the was a truly like bees buzzing, gnawings bring tests. What have I done to deserve their bite? I should they sting me again and again and take from me everything I earned everything I deserve. I put in the effort. In the time, even knowing my grades and knowing that my professor would likely fail me, I continued to show up to class in Every day I put up with this

of a grand, dicing self serving rambling monologues every class, and I gave it put up with that. Damn thing projector. Why can you tell me I know, yes, I know the reason my life turned to shit. There isn't one that am overhead projector chose me? Why? Because,

because it's walking evil, that's why it's a malicious assembly of junk without a brain or saw it shows me because it did, and he didn't even think about it, but it should have you seen. That was a mistake. It shows me it pushed me

He just couldn't help itself what you see as it ran. It's victory lap. He tripped it had pushed me too far. That final day, the day I snapped professor Whitlow rolled out his precious projector stood so tall and proud. It knew what it had done. It thought it won, while I'm still here my day, the professor switched it on and it's hateful glare

It began to shine as the shadows slowly came into focus and I watched as the vermin ran around the screen, just dancing with delight. I clenched my teeth and squeezed my chair. I stared so hard my eyes nearly popped, but even then even then it couldn't stop it. Couldn't it was too stupid and crowd, he continued to dance continued to buzz and then, as professor whitlow changed, the slide, they took their final.

Might I couldn't believe it? I couldn't understand how the sides for murder lecture were gone, and now all that remained was text message. It was a screenshot from last night from my father professor whitlow change the slight again and the message through continued the room, had gone utterly silent, save for a few students who began.

to laugh another slide. Another messages went back and forth. My conversation between me and my girlfriend. It was our breakup on full display and everyone was laughing. The projector buzzed with such statistics joy getting louder, louder and brighter, but how? How did he get these? Then? I remembered who held the slides, who must have printed them the same man who refused to let go of that occurs in the same man who kept it alive.

All these years now? I have nothing against professor whitlow, but in that moment I realized he was as much to blame for my misery as his dear. domination. So while everyone was laughing laughing at me, I got up and walked over to the projector. And finally, I did the very thing I had yearned to do. Since the start of my entire semester, I grabbed the projector by its neck, and I m a crash at naples, beautiful like the anticipated boom of a bottle rocket. Heavy explosion of plastic parts cut everyone in a daze, all of them

struck with awe, even professor whitman brought the second blow over his head. The second swing was more of a crunch boy, being crushing broken. How wife. out how I wanted him to feel another sling and he was down. They should raise its hands higher. I mean come on, it's not my fault. He lay there like a stool is practically begging for it like how we beg at the third strike, the fourth and fifth and sixth, I was nearing lucky number seven. When finally, a few of the students rose from their dumb shock to rappel me, I was pinned to the floor in a matter of seconds. The seventh blow came from a boot hitting me square in the face and knocking me out.

I woke up in handcuffs me. Can you believe it a perfect student perfect record everything demolished because of that projector. Well, now look who's demolished I hope that pile of scrap enjoys the junk yard because that's where it will stay forever, but sadly, Some good deeds do go unrecognised. He'll, never understand why. I did it a delicate I've done and assign a stigma still continue to say that I attempted to murder professor Whitlow. Of course I didn't he's alive, isn't he cite a few stitches is nothing compared to ten years in prison So why don't you saved from your boots? For me? Have you see some

burgess too dumb to understand that I was a victim to, but I guess I should be surprised. after professor with those hospitalized over hundred people wrote him well wishes. Many were my students in today they all went online to leave him a good review on one of those rate. My teacher websites, Most of the reviews were fake? I mean they had to be, but one, I think was written, adjusted. Me and you know what it said- Your whitlow is a master s field, he's kind he's funny. He cares for his students and while its a bit old fashion, my favorite thing about him He still uses his APOLLO horizon overhead project

The. Full body chills is an audio chuck production. This episode was written by David flowers and read by anthony coolness This story was modified slightly for audio retelling, but you can find the original in full on our website. So what do you think jack? Do you? roof.