Shadowing Practice: 3 True Motel Horror Stories Animated - Learn English Speaking with Video

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I worked as a motel manager for most of my life, and during all that time, I witnessed unspeakable horrors.

From shady drug dealings gone horribly wrong, to psychotic guests leaving their rooms in a deplorable state.

However, nothing was worse than what I witnessed on the 16th of May, 2009.

I got to work early that morning, and went about my usual routine.

There were 30 rooms in the motel, but one particular room was always booked year-round by a man named Dr. Lucas Howard.

Lucas Howard was a self-proclaimed plastic surgeon who didn't have a license to operate.

However, he was a close family friend of the motel's owner, so they'd given him a spacious room at the back of

the motel to carry out his illegal operations in exchange for some of his profits.

I was appalled when I uncovered these disturbing and illegal acts, but I couldn't report what was going on to the authorities,

as the owner threatened to fire me if I ever said anything.

I desperately needed the job, as my wife couldn't work after she'd fallen sick, and we had five kids to feed.

I had no other choice but to keep quiet, and with every passing day, I'd watch several of Dr. Howard's clients walk through those motel doors.

Most of them were desperate young women who couldn't afford to pay for a licensed plastic surgeon.

I always pitied these women, as they often left looking a lot worse than they came in.

It was hard for me to watch what Dr. Howard was doing to these young women, as I had two daughters back at home.

And I could tell most of these women were coerced or pressured into it.

Even though I'd sworn not to say anything, I made it very clear to Dr. Howard that I didn't agree with what he was doing,

as I always gave him dirty looks whenever he walked into the motel.

We had an altercation after he arrived that morning as he looked at me and said, You better wipe that smug, righteous look off your face, Dean.

You think I can't see you judging my clients and me every day?

Who the hell do you think you are?

Well, it's hard to keep a straight face, Howard, when I know you're cutting young women open in the back and sending them home badly disfigured.

Regardless of your close relationship with the owners, I am still the motel manager.

And I have never agreed with the illegal operations you carry out at this motel.

Don't forget that my profits are what pay your salary, and I could easily have you fired tomorrow.

So keep that attitude in check, Dean if you want to keep your job and afford the medications for your sick wife.

He walked away, looking down on me, and I could do nothing but grit my teeth in anger, as I couldn't afford to get fired.

I knew Dr. Howard was a twisted man who would go to any lengths to get his way.

That was why he always threatened to take my job if I ever spoke up, as he usually reminded me of my five kids and my bedridden wife, who all needed my support.

After Dr. Howard went into his office to see his clients, I went to water the large potted plants that the owners had asked me to place across the motel.

When I was done, I saw a young woman around the age of 22 walk into the motel.

I could tell she was extremely nervous as she walked up to me and said, Hello, sir.

I'm looking for Dr. Howard.

I could tell she was really scared.

You don't have to do this.

Whatever he promised you is not worth it.

I've seen what he does to other young women like you.

So please, just trust me and go home.

Before I could finish my sentence, Dr. Howard came out of his office and said, I've told you not to talk to my clients, Dean.

He then turned to the girl and said, Ignore whatever he said, Anastasia.

You're in safe hands with me.

Before leading her away to begin the operation.

After a couple of hours, I heard him yell, Dean, I need you here right now!

I rushed in to see what was going on, and I screamed in horror as Anastasia's butchered body lay lifeless on the table.

I couldn't take it anymore.

I can't do this anymore, Howard.

I'm calling the cops.

However, before I could pick up my phone, Dr. Howard put a bloody scalpel to my neck as he said.

Then I'll slit your throat and throw you in the wood chipper just like the rest of them.

Be reasonable, Dean.

There's no need to play the righteous Samaritan, as you're just as guilty as I am at this point.

It'd also be sad to leave your kids and your sick wife without your support, so shut your mouth and help me get rid of her body.

I thought about fighting him off and running to the cops, but I knew I didn't stand a chance against him, so I agreed.

We both carried her bloody corpse to a woodchipper out back, where Dr. Howard usually dumped the bodies from his failed operations.

It took everything I had not to throw up as we tossed her into the woodchipper,

along with the remains of several previous victims who hadn't survived their surgeries.

After they were all chopped into bits, I wondered what he usually did with their remains, so I asked.

Dr. Howard turned and looked at me with a sick grin.

Well, I knew it'd be a shame to let their corpses go to waste, so I've been using their shredded remains as natural manure for all the potted plants that adorn the motel.

I had no idea he'd been doing something so horrific, and I was forced to stay quiet.

I also lied to the authorities when they eventually came to ask about Howard's missing clients, as I told them I knew nothing.

I was his accomplice now, and even though they'd allow me to keep my job as a reward for staying silent, I knew I could never look at my wife

or daughters in the eyes ever again after the horrific things I did that night.

The worst night of my life began after I walked into the Green Creek Motel.

It was an isolated motel just along the interstate.

I'd been on a long nine-hour drive back home, and I was looking for a cheap place to spend the night.

I was extremely tired as I walked up to the receptionist and asked for a room, but the receptionist looked at me and said,

I'm sorry, sir, but all our rooms are already booked.

Could you please check again?

I'm so tired and I don't want to sleep in my car.

There has to be at least one empty room.

As I said before, there are no rooms available at the moment.

I'm so sorry, sir.

There's really nothing I can do.

The motel was the only option I had, as there was nothing else for Miles and I really didn't want to sleep in my car.

But it seemed like I had no other choice.

However, a nice-looking man who heard our conversation walked up to the receptionist and said, He could have our room.

I was just headed out.

The receptionist then looked at him and asked, What about your wife, Mr. Bennard?

Oh, she checked out earlier this morning.

I was going to go meet her at home.

I immediately thanked the man and shook his hand.

He then responded with a kind smile before saying, Hope you have a good night's sleep.

The receptionist told me that they'd need to quickly clean the room before I spent the night.

She then asked me how long I was staying, and I decided to book the room for the weekend as

I thought it'd be a good idea to take a break from the road for a couple of days.

As I walked into the room, my nose picked up a faint smell and I assumed it was coming from the bathroom.

The bed was also uncomfortable, but the room was spacious and I felt like it was a good value for the price.

After taking a long shower, I went to bed, but I couldn't sleep.

For some unexplainable reason, I just kept turning and when I finally dozed off, I had the strangest dream.

I was standing in a dark hallway and I could hear a woman screaming in agony.

I could tell she was trying to say something through her screams, but I couldn't understand what she wanted.

When I woke up the next morning, I had a splitting headache.

It felt like the worst night of my life

and I began to wonder if I would have been better off just sleeping in my car.

However, I had already paid for the entire weekend, So I took an Advil and went to get some breakfast.

Even though I'd tried to put that horrible night behind me, I couldn't stop hearing that woman's screams in my head and it kept bothering me throughout the day.

It had become unbearable and I hoped that I was coming down with a fever.

I told myself that it was probably stress from the long drive and that I just needed a good night's sleep.

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However, I had another bizarre dream the following night.

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I was falling into a black abyss for what seemed like an eternity, and when I landed, I was lying on my bed in the motel.

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I couldn't move my arms or legs, but I could tell someone was lying next to me.

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It was a pale woman, and I tried calling out to her, but I couldn't speak.

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The woman then slowly raised her head and looked at me, allowing me to see her face in full view.

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I let out a blood-curdling scream as her skin was falling off her face and her eye sockets were empty.

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The woman then started repeating the words, Get off me.

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You're so heavy.

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I just want to rest.

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Please put me to rest.

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I've never been so frightened in my life, and I woke up screaming, covered in sweat.

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I'd never been a superstitious person, but I could tell something was seriously wrong with that motel room.

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The foul odor in my room had also become overwhelmingly nauseating, and I had a disturbing suspicion.

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So I went to the receptionist and asked her to check my mattress.

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She looked at me like I was crazy, before assuring me that the room was clean and that there was nothing wrong with the mattress.

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I wasn't convinced, so I took out my pocket knife, went back to my room, and ripped apart the mattress.

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The receptionist thought I'd gone crazy and threatened to call the police if I didn't stop.

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However, she went deadly silent when I uncovered a woman's corpse hidden inside the large mattress.

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The authorities were immediately contacted, and the body was identified as Abigail Bernard.

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She was the wife of the man who'd given me his room, and the police sent several officers to his house, but he was already long gone.

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Detectives carried out an investigation and found out that the couple had gotten into an altercation the night before that turned deadly.

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Guests in nearby rooms told detectives that they'd heard Abigail screaming on the day Bernard checked out.

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While this was never confirmed, detectives believed the couple got into a heated fight, and Bernard killed Abigail.

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He then expertly sealed her corpse inside the motel's mattress

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because he couldn't carry her body out without being caught on the motel's cameras.

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I was never able to recover from the fact

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that I'd slept on a woman's rotting corpse for two nights at the Green Creek Motel.

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The sight of her rotting body lying inside the mattress was truly gruesome,

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and I couldn't imagine how a kind-looking man could commit such horrors against his own wife.

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I never slept in a motel after that night, and even though several months have passed, on certain nights when I close my eyes,

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I can still hear Abigail screaming in the distance.

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The Brimshire Motel had been in my family for three generations.

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My grandfather had bought the motel from a friend in 1953, and he'd passed it down to my father after he retired.

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My father would always tell me that I would one day own the motel, and I can never forget the day he held me in his arms and said, Listen closely, Richard.

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Your grandfather poured his blood and sweat into this motel to provide for our family.

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It hasn't been doing well over the years, but I promised your grandfather no matter what happened, I wouldn't lose the motel.

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It's all going to be yours one day, and I need you to promise me that you will do everything you can to carry on the family business.

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I began running the motel after my father turned 70.

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It wasn't easy owning an old motel, as most guests preferred to choose more modern options with better services.

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However, I was determined to keep my promise to my father, so I did everything I could to make sure our motel could compete by offering cheap rooms

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and decent services to our guests.

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Everything was running smoothly at first, but that all changed after I noticed a strange man had started hanging around our motel.

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The man had a disturbing look on his face, and he was always looking at me like I'd owed him something.

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I'd never met the man before, and I wondered who he could be or why he was monitoring our motel.

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I didn't think much of it at first, but it wasn't before long, things took a turn for the worse as the deranged man began to follow me.

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I was terrified now, as I could often see him stalking me out of the

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corner of my eye as soon as I arrived at the motel.

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I went to the authorities, but they weren't able to identify or track down the man I believed was stalking me at the motel.

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For some bizarre reason, my stalker had somehow managed to expertly elude the authorities, as he always seemed to appear whenever there was no one else around.

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I tried my best to keep my distance, as I could tell he was dangerous and I wanted to avoid a confrontation.

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However, despite all my efforts to avoid this man, he somehow found a way to approach me when I was all alone.

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His eyes were bloodshot red, and he looked disheveled as he said, Where is he?

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I know you have him.

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I've been watching you, and I know you're hiding him in this motel.

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Even though I was frightened, I managed to keep my calm.

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I really think you're mistaking me for someone else, and if you don't leave right now, I'm going to call the police.

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The man reached for his pocket, but luckily before he could do anything, the motel's security rushed to help and he ran away, disappearing into the darkness.

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I thanked them for their help and I asked them to be on the lookout for him.

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I also started carrying my gun, as after meeting my stalker, I assumed he was a mentally unstable man who was mistaking me for someone else.

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The following night, I was wrapping up a few things in my office, when my window was shattered by a large rock.

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Within seconds, the man was standing in my office, but I was prepared this time, so I took out my gun and said,

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You have five seconds to leave before I shoot you or call the police.

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The man, who now had tears in his eyes, looked at me.

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Please, lower your weapon.

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I just want to talk.

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I know I've been acting crazy, following you around all this time, but I'm just looking for my son.

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We didn't have a good relationship, and we didn't talk much, but he recently reached out and said he was staying at the Brimshire Motel.

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That was the last text I heard from him before he disappeared, and I thought you did something to him, so I followed you, trying to find out.

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As I said before, sir, you have the wrong person.

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I didn't do anything to your son.

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The man then broke down in tears.

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I'm sorry.

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I didn't know what else to do.

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I couldn't go to the police because he didn't have his papers, so I had to look for him myself.

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I'm losing my mind, and I'm scared something has happened to him.

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I felt pity for the man, so I lowered my weapon and calmed him down.

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I then gave him some tea and told him

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that I'd do everything I could to help locate his missing

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son He began to thank me before he suddenly collapsed

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and fell to the floor The sedative had finally kicked in

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so I called in the motel security

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and asked them to put him with the others I didn't exactly enjoy getting my hands dirty

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But I knew this was what had to be done as

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my father had told me this was the only way to

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keep the family business alive Our motel was essentially a money pit.

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My father knew we couldn't afford to keep running the motel for much longer

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and that we would eventually have to shut it down.

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But my father struck a deal with the cartel to avoid that.

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He realized that an old motel like ours was the best place to find rejects, particularly people who didn't have any family and wouldn't be missed if they disappeared.

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You simply offer them an incredibly cheap room and wait for them to take the bait.

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They are then drugged and shipped off to the cartel to be used as mules.

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The cartel pays us well for this important service, and we use that money to keep the motel running while also offering the cheapest motel rooms on the market.

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I have no remorse for my actions, as I know I'm only doing what's necessary to keep the lights on at the Brimshire Motel.

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Thank you.

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Woordenschat en spreektips bij deze les

Deze video bevat 193 zinnen en 3109 woorden om na te spreken. Het gesproken deel duurt 17:44. De spreker praat in een natuurlijk tempo van ongeveer 175 woorden per minuut, dicht bij een alledaags gesprek. Slechts 79% van de woorden hoort bij de 3.000 meest gebruikte Engelse woorden, dus de woordenschat is pittig.

Belangrijke woorden in deze video

15 minder gangbare woorden uit de video, met uitspraak en betekenis:

motel /moʊˈtɛl/ (zelfstandig naamwoord) — motel. A type of hotel or lodging establishment, often located near a major highway, which typically features a series of rooms whose entrances are immediately…
scream /skɹiːm/ (werkwoord) — schreeuwen. To cry out with a shrill voice; to utter a sudden, sharp outcry, or shrill, loud cry, as in fright or extreme pain; to screech, to shriek.
mattress /ˈmætɹɪs/ (zelfstandig naamwoord) — matras. A pad on which a person can recline and sleep, usually having an inner section of coiled springs covered with foam or other cushioning material then enclosed…
horror /ˈhɒɹ.ə/ (zelfstandig naamwoord) — gruwel. An intense distressing emotion of fear or repugnance.
grandfather /ˈɡɹæn(d)ˌfɑðɚ/ (zelfstandig naamwoord) — voorvader. A father of someone's parent.
detective /dɪˈtɛktɪv/ (zelfstandig naamwoord) — rechercheur, speurder. A police officer tasked with collecting evidence and information in order to solve a crime; an investigator.
disappear /dɪsəˈpɪɹ/ (werkwoord) — verdwijnen, verzwinden. To vanish.
threaten /ˈθɹɛt.n̩/ (werkwoord) — bedreigen, dreigen. To make a threat against someone; to use threats.
cartel /kɑɹˈtɛl/ (zelfstandig naamwoord) — kartel. A group of businesses or nations that collude to limit competition within an industry or market.
disturb /dɪˈstɜːb/ (werkwoord) — storen, verstoren. to confuse a quiet, constant state or a calm, continuous flow, in particular: thoughts, actions or liquids.
pocket /ˈpɑ.kɪt/ (zelfstandig naamwoord) — zak. A bag stitched to an item of clothing, used for carrying small items.
rush /ɹʌʃ/ (werkwoord) — afraffelen. To hurry; to perform a task with great haste, often not properly or without thinking carefully.
silent /ˈsaɪ̯lənt/ (bijvoeglijk naamwoord) — stil. Free from sound or noise; absolutely still; perfectly quiet.
pot /pɑt/ (zelfstandig naamwoord) — pot. A flat-bottomed vessel (usually metal) used for cooking food, possibly excluding saucepans (see usage notes).
cop /kɑp/ (zelfstandig naamwoord) — smeris. A police officer or prison guard.

Phrasal verbs die je zult horen

look for (werkwoord) — zoeken. To seek.
carry out /ˈkæ.ɹi aʊt/ (werkwoord) — uitvoeren. To hold while moving it out.
check out (werkwoord) — onderzoeken. To record the departure or withdrawal of someone or something (such as guests, employees, books, etc.).
find out (werkwoord) — ontdekken, onderzoeken. To discover, as by asking or investigating.
wake up /ˌweɪk ˈʌp/ (werkwoord) — wakker worden, ontwaken. To stop sleeping; to awake.
deal with (werkwoord) — behandelen. To handle verbally or in some form of artistic expression; to address or discuss as a subject.
get off (werkwoord) — van ... afgaan. To move from being on top of (something) to not being on top of it.
go on /ˈɡoʊˌɒn/ (werkwoord) — verder gaan. To continue in extent.

Uitspraak om op te letten

De spreker gebruikt 86 samentrekkingen en verkorte vormen, zoals couldn't, didn't, I'm. Spreek ze kort uit, zoals je ze hoort.

De “th”-klanken: grandfather /ˈɡɹæn(d)ˌfɑðɚ/, threaten /ˈθɹɛt.n̩/, bother /ˈbɑðɚ/, throat /ˈθɹoʊt/, smoothly /ˈsmuːðli/
De klanken “sh” en “zh”: rush /ɹʌʃ/, essentially /ɪˈsɛnʃəli/, shake /ˈʃeɪk/, medication /mɛdɪˈkeɪʃən/, assure /əˈʃʊɹ/
Lange woorden — let op de klemtoon: essentially /ɪˈsɛnʃəli/, incredibly /ɪŋˈkɹɛdɪbli/, uncomfortable /ʌnˈkʌm.fɚ.tə.bl̩/, medication /mɛdɪˈkeɪʃən/, desperately /ˈdɛs.p(ə.)ɹət.li/

Zo oefen je met deze video

Luister de hele video één keer zonder te spreken en noteer de woorden die je niet kent.
Begin op 0,75× snelheid, spreek zin voor zin na en ga terug naar normale snelheid zodra het makkelijk gaat.
Neem jezelf op en vergelijk met het origineel; let daarbij op woorden als motel, scream, mattress.

Grammatica in deze video

De structuren die de spreker het meest gebruikt, met de exacte woorden uit de video:

Structuur	In de video
Present perfect continuous have/has been + -ing — iets dat eerder begon en nog bezig is	I've been using · hasn't been doing · I've been watching
Lijdende vorm be + voltooid deelwoord — het gaat om wat er gebeurt, niet om wie het doet	was always booked · was appalled · were coerced
Present perfect have/has + voltooid deelwoord — iets uit het verleden dat nu nog telt	have never agreed · I've seen · I've told
Betrekkelijke bijzinnen who / which + zin — extra informatie over een persoon of ding	women who couldn · man who would · man who heard

Wat is de Shadowing-techniek?

Shadowing is een wetenschappelijk onderbouwde taalleermethode die oorspronkelijk is ontwikkeld voor professionele tolkentraining en gepopulariseerd door polyglot Dr. Alexander Arguelles. De methode is eenvoudig maar krachtig: je luistert naar native Engelse audio en herhaalt het onmiddellijk hardop — als een schaduw die de spreker volgt met slechts 1–2 seconden vertraging. In tegenstelling tot passief luisteren of grammaticadrills, dwingt shadowing je hersenen en mondspieren om echte spraakpatronen tegelijkertijd te verwerken en te reproduceren. Onderzoek toont aan dat het de uitspraaknauwkeurigheid, intonatie, ritme, verbonden spraak, luisterbegrip en spreekvaardigheid aanzienlijk verbetert — waardoor het een van de meest effectieve methoden is voor IELTS Speaking-voorbereiding en echte Engelse communicatie.

Shadowing-techniek: lees de volledige stap-voor-stap-gids →

Shadowing Practice: 3 True Motel Horror Stories Animated - Learn English Speaking with Video

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