 I've always been a bit of a VHS collector, you know? There is something about the crackle of an old tape, the nostalgia of rewinding with a clunky machine, that just can't be replicated by modern streaming services. So when I stumbled upon a dusty old VHS labeled Mickey and the gang at a yard sale, I was thrilled. I popped the tape into my ancient VCR, expecting to be greeted by the familiar faces of Mickey, Donald and Goothy. And at first, everything seemed normal. The animation was a bit grainy, but that just added to the charm. Mickey and his friends were up to their usual hijinks, and I settled in for a nostalgic trip down memory lane. But as the tape neared its end, things took a turn for the bizarre. The screen flickered, and suddenly, a new clip on appeared. It was the familiar Walt Disney home video logo, but something was off about it. The colors seemed muted, almost drained of life, and there was a neary stillness to the animation. Above the logo, the words also available from hovered ominously, and a list of titles began to scroll from right to left. But these words the classic Disney movies I knew and loved. No, these titles were darker, more obscure. Bed knobs and broomsticks, Tron, Popeye 1980, the list went on, each title more unsettling than the last. And underneath it all, the words from 799 pounds to 1299 pounds glowed in a sickly shade of red. I felt a chill run down my spine as I watched, unable to tear my eyes away from the screen. It was like something was reaching out to me from beyond the grave, whispering secrets that were better left buried. And then just as suddenly as it had appeared, the clip on vanished, and the tape returned to the end credits of Mickey and the gang. But the damage had been done. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had stumbled upon something truly sinister, something that was never meant to be seen. I tried to brush it off as an overactive imagination, but the memory haunted me for weeks, creeping into my dreams and leaving me restless and uneasy. In the end, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had unlocked something dark and forbidden, something that should have remained hidden in the shadows of the past. And so I did the only thing I could think of. I threw the tape away, burying it deep in the trash where it belonged. But even now, I can't help but wonder, what other secrets lie hidden in the depths of my VHS collection, waiting to be discovered.