Lunatics Radio Hour
The history of horror and the horror of history.
Lunatics Radio Hour
Episode 161 - Campfire Tales #5
Abby and Alex Goleman are thrilled to present three haunting horror stories.
First Date was written by Carver Welsh and narrated by Abby Brenker. Follow Carver on IG @carverwelsh.
A Scratching at The Door was written by Jon Adcock and narrated by Denali Bartell. Follow Jon's work here. Check out Denali's poetry collection here.
Division of Spoils was written by D.H. Parish and narrated by Mike Macera. Check out D.H. Parish's work here.
Get Lunatics Merch here. Join the discussion on Discord. Check out Abby's book Horror Stories. Available in eBook and paperback. Music by Michaela Papa, Alan Kudan & Jordan Moser. Poster Art by Pilar Keprta @pilar.kep.
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Hello everyone and welcome back to another episode of the lunatics radio, our podcast. I am Abby Brer sitting here with alex goldman hi everyone and we are back with another campfire tales episode now that the weather is a bit warmer and the sun is a bit brighter and we are back to uh. So I guess this campfire tales isn't so much gathering around the fire for warmth, it's like a cozy summer beach bonfire vibe oh, oh yeah, maybe some marshmallows still. Yeah, of course.
Speaker 2:Right, just picture us with sand and surf all around us, that's right.
Speaker 1:Less hot chocolate, more surfboard we surf.
Speaker 2:Yeah, but more of a beachy good time.
Speaker 1:I'm very excited to report again for the second.
Speaker 2:Campfire Tales episode of the year that we have three brand new writers. Again to lunatics radio hour. Yeah, very cool, very cool.
Speaker 1:It's honestly like one of the proudest things because for so long for this podcast, for many years, whenever there were topics, I would be the one writing stories to go with them, because, like, the viewership was so little right and and it just to me it's like a testament of the growth of the show but also the community. Hopefully that's being fostered and that's the most important thing.
Speaker 2:So I feel very proud of the fact that we have new writers who are submitting and kind of joining the ranks of the lunatics community yeah, I remember when we, when we started, it was mainly you, but then you know some of our same friends contributing to this, so it's very cool that we have so many, so many new listeners and so many new contributors to to really fill out this, this whole series that just reminded me.
Speaker 1:Actually I forgot not totally forgot, but didn't really remember. You were on such an early episode of lunatics radio, like episode 12 or something that sounds right, and now we're up to 100 and whatever we're up to wow, wild wild.
Speaker 1:So we're all visualizing this together. Right, there's some warm, a warm glow coming off of the fire in front of us, but also kind of a cool breeze coming in from the atlantic or the pacific. Wherever we're visually, there we go and we're passing around the sticky, we have sticky marshmallow fingers and we're going to listen to three stories together.
Speaker 2:Let's do it.
Speaker 1:And I'll say this Listen, just because we're on the beach doesn't mean they're not scary.
Speaker 2:Oh right, I'm practically terrified already.
Speaker 3:First date Read by Carver, welsh.
Speaker 1:Portland was typically a dreary, rainy place. Today was no different. The rain gently hummed against the roofs, bits of the sun peeking out from between the clouds. A young couple walked, laughing, an old man sweeping the walk in front of the store across the street. From between the clouds, a young couple walked, laughing, an old man sweeping the walk in front of the store across the street jealously watched them passing, yearning for what never was. A baby bawled as her mother pushed the stroller. The mom smiled at the couple, nostalgia in her eyes. Have a beautiful day, the mom said to the couple. The girl turned to her and replied oh, you too. And immediately turned her attention back to the young man walking with her.
Speaker 1:The man had a youthful, round face, though his hair was speckled gray. He wore a teal polo with oakley sunglasses tucked into the placket of his shirt. His tan gleamed in contrast to the day, ending suddenly like a car crash. At his collar. He wore khaki pants that still had the long crease along the leg and his shoes would have been better at home on a boat than the rain-slicked streets. The pockets of his coat swung like pendulums.
Speaker 1:The street was lined with an eclectic jumble of old and new storefronts squeezed between taller, glossy new buildings from the 80s. The breeze blew, the smell of coffee from many locations and the earthy scent of dirt, all mingled with the acidic smell of stale urine from the rain-soaked pavement. Let's stop at that bookstore, the young man said, pointing to a tiny shop with weathered brown shingles nailed carelessly to the walls. The shop sign had faded far beyond being able to read it from even the minimal distance the couple stood, but the stacked books blocking the windows gave away its likely purpose. Sure, why not? His companion answered.
Speaker 1:The girl had long, inky hair that framed an innocent face. Her wide, dark eyes had a hungry glimmer, as if she hadn't eaten for some time. An all-too-sweet smile played on her lips as she spoke, the kind of smirk that suggested she was enjoying a private joke at his expense. Her creamy, paper-white skin seemed to absorb the gloom of the Portland day. She wore simple clothes a striped, long-sleeved top that clung to her slight frame, an oversized flannel that clashed with the stripes, but she pulled it off in a rebellious fashion, the sleeves rolled up, both paired with low-waisted jeans that showed the slightest amount of her even paler midriff, her Doc Martens high-heeled boots, scuffed all over from countless city walks and outdoor adventures splashed carelessly in the puddles. They rushed across Couch Street as a bicycle whizzed past, its rider draped in a Columbia coat, mohawk plastered against one side of the head.
Speaker 1:A wave of warmth greeted the couple as they entered the bookstore, wrapping them like a grandmother's hug. The store even smelled like a grandparent's home. The couple set about looking through books immediately. You two are a pretty couple. An old man behind the counter remarked His bald pate, a beacon below the fluorescent lights, a thin layer of sweat glistening on it, although he was just standing there. Thank you, said the young man. He looked as though talking to the older man made his skin crawl. Are you the owner? Yep, 20 years I've been here, the old man said. While coming around the counter. He leaned against it, facing the couple, his hands folded in front of him, like he was easing into talking for a while. Although they've tried to run me out of here to make more damn condos, I ain't selling it, believe you me. They offered me half a million for this place. I'm 62, and that's all they offered me. Maybe if this was 20 years ago I could retire on something like that.
Speaker 1:But now the girl smirked looking through a stack of mystery books that looked well worn. The young man nodded and tried to look very focused on a book about knitting. You need to make sure you treat a woman right, the shop owner continued. The young man smiled pleasantly and tried to look busy looking at some books near the counter as his hands absentmindedly wandered to his pockets. The girl glanced up. Oh yes, please educate my partner here.
Speaker 1:The shop owner nodded sagely, his voice thoughtful, as if remembering a great fact. You see, keeping a woman happy is all about giving. It's not what she gives you although I'm sure that's the only thing on your mind at your age. It's about giving her what she needs, what she craves. We only just met today, the young man said. The shop owner's head went like a bobblehead. Ah, but trust me, I know I knew as soon as I spotted the woman that became my cousin's wife. She ate him all up.
Speaker 1:The girl rested her hand on her date's arm and smiled at the owner. Thank you, she said, setting the book she was holding down on a nearby table. I love your store, but I think I'm going to rescue my date here and get him to give me a bite to eat. She added with a wink they left the store, the warmth of the bookstore quickly running away as they stepped back into the gloom of the city. I know a place where we can get something to eat, the man suggested. The girl shrugged we can cut down this alley to save some time. Looks like it might be about to rain heavier, he said and brushed the tips of his finger on the outside of his pockets again reassuringly. Sure, let's do it.
Speaker 1:They turned down a wide alley, dimly lit in its relation to the sun. The other end of the alley was brighter, like a light at the end of a train tunnel, as it made the alley seem longer. Their splashing steps echoed ever so slightly in the murky, shallow puddles. The smell of sour blend of rain-washed filth masked any pleasant aroma from before. He let his hand creep towards a pocket, fingers lovingly creasing the cold handle of his knife, his tools. He was so glad to have them with him. The knife was small but it did its job just right. The zip ties in his other pocket rustled lightly on his hand like the stems of flowers. Oh boy, did he love to show his dates, his tools.
Speaker 1:His pace slowed. She got ahead of him just a bit. He pulled the knife out. Its blade twisted and glinting evilly. He liked his prey wounded before he bound them. He lengthened his stride, closing the gap between them. He was getting aroused. It'd been a long time since he was properly aroused.
Speaker 1:Suddenly she turned to him, her ever-present smirk on her lips, sweet and hungry. He quickly slipped the knife back into his pocket. She grabbed his arm and moved ever so slightly toward him. He could feel her warm breath. You smell nice. She murmured her voice low, lower than he thought it should go. Her grip fastened tighter on his arm, uncomfortable, almost painful. He tried to pull away, but her hand was unwavering. Hey, what the heck are you doing? He said. Well, more like mumbled. Any thoughts of arousal long gone.
Speaker 1:She pulled him closer effortlessly. Her lips brushed his ear. You taste even better, she whispered in that oddly deep voice. She ran her tongue along his cheek. He could feel the scaly ridges. He shuddered. He wanted to scream, but all that came out was a horrible retching gargle. She darted her tongue in and out of his mouth with a smacking slap. She held his head in both hands.
Speaker 1:He trembled, a warm wetness spreading down his leg into the rainy street. What are you doing? He stammered. Her face began to blur the edge of that damn smile that never left. Her face stretched wider and wider until it was well past her ears, almost splitting her face in two. Her jaw elongated and for one irrational moment he expected to see long, serrated teeth that would put his toy to shame. But no, there were no sharp teeth, but rounded, yellow, cracked molars, rows and rows, like a shark all looked rotten.
Speaker 1:He tried to scream, but only the retching gargle came out, filled with a taste of copper and bile. Please, no, he moaned. Oh, oh, shh. She whispered her voice, a deep croon that rattled in his skull. There's no point in crying. What's going to happen will happen. No, he finally managed to scream. Two weeks later, as the rain lightly thrummed against the cobblestones of the Portland Road and people rushed along the Albert neighborhood, a girl wearing a striped shirt and flannel, her bare midriff, a glow of light above the low-slung jeans, walked hand in hand with a young blonde man. The young man looked forward, a hopeful expression on his face, not fully noticing the crooked half-smile that never left her pale lips.
Speaker 2:Wow, you know, I knew, because it was a story on this podcast, that it was going to get scary. And at the first few minutes I was like, oh wow, things seem to be going well. I mean, they're going to the bookstore, they're going to get something to eat, great. But then, you know, the second, he was reaching for his knife.
Speaker 1:I was like what's going to happen next? A red flag.
Speaker 2:I would say A red flag.
Speaker 1:A red flag on any date. Yeah, ladies, listen.
Speaker 2:Well, I was very happy to see the tables turn a little bit towards the end there.
Speaker 1:I know. I mean, it's one of my favorite types of stories to write, you know, especially when it's not just like a plot twist, like, oh, the girl is a killer, you know gender, you know. But it's also like, oh, he was gonna kill her, but she's gonna kill him first totally, you know this.
Speaker 2:This is what's cool about this series, I think, is you really hear from um different people's perspective what they find scary, right, yeah, that's the whole point of, uh, the stories that you would bring to a campfire.
Speaker 1:Yes, yes, very, very good point. So this story was written by Carver Welsh, who is a writer out of Portland, oregon. He writes as a means of escaping the humdrum monotony of office life which, hey, I think Alex and I both can understand Absolutely. Carver can often be found enjoying a pint at a local pub with his dog, butters.
Speaker 2:Oh, great name Butters Wow.
Speaker 1:And, as always, we will link all of the different ways that you can follow Carver and his work in the description of this podcast. So please do do that and check out the writers who have very generously allowed us to use their work. I also really like that he's from Portland and wrote a story about Portland.
Speaker 2:Totally.
Speaker 1:You know, you can kind of feel the city a little bit in the writing and kind of. I also think that makes the Entwist ending a bit more surprising, because he's painting this really cool picture of what, like a first date in Portland would be. Like you know, and to me, I was actually picturing it in Portland, Maine, because that's the Portland that I know, so well, but I think they have some similarities and like a gloominess, sometimes in an old kind of brick building, kind of town with alleys, the rainy nature, yeah.
Speaker 1:Yeah, coffee shops and books piled up you know all the way on windows. But anyway, I know he's writing about Portland, oregon, but he did a really great job creating that vibe in that moment and then kind of took it away from us.
Speaker 2:Totally, and I should note I thought you did a wonderful job reading that story. I always love listening to you read your spooky stories on the podcast, so it was cool to hear that.
Speaker 1:Thank you, alex. Okay, well, we have two other haunting stories to listen as we are huddled around this beach bonfire. So shall we.
Speaker 2:Let's do it.
Speaker 1:Okay so first just a quick content warning on this upcoming story, including suicide and some pregnancy stuff. So just putting that out there, it's like a Lovecraftian horror story. It's very, very good. But I just want everyone to be aware of those things first. If you're not interested in those topics, just fast forward a few minutes.
Speaker 3:A scratching at the door. Red-eyed Sean Adcock. Red-eyed Denali Bartell.
Speaker 5:Turn right on Chandon Road. In 200 feet your destination will be on the right. You've arrived at your destination. There was a driveway on Nikki's right and she turned into it. The driveway wound up the hillside, surrounded by dense, whispering trees, to end at a stately two-story house. There were lights on the ground floor and Ryan's car was parked in the driveway. At the sight of the car, nikki, his ex-girlfriend, felt five months of anger and hurt well up. She gripped the steering wheel, closed her eyes and took deep breaths to calm down. She had pictured this confrontation over and over again ever since the day she found all of Ryan's belongings gone and his note on the kitchen counter.
Speaker 5:Yesterday their friend David gave her the address where Ryan had been staying, the gravel crunched under her feet as she walked up the driveway. The sun was a smear of orange at the horizon's edge and the stars, like scattered diamonds, glittered. Whenever the clouds parted, the gibbous moon had begun to rise and hung above her, heavy and misshapen in the autumn sky. A storm was expected by morning and the trees swayed in the wind it had sent as its harbinger. The wind through the trees almost sounded like howling. The house was formidable, with a heavy oak door and bars on the windows. Despite her anger, she laughed when she saw the door knocker. It was shaped like a lion's head. She'd only seen something like that in movies. Before she knocked, she reached out a hand and ran it over the deep scorings in the door. They looked like claw marks. The knocker was heavier than it looked and its sound reverberated through the house. The howling seemed louder and she turned and stared into the encroaching woods. It was more than just the wind. Someone's dog must have gotten out.
Speaker 5:Ryan opened the door and his eyes opened wide in surprise. But there was something else in them, something inexplicable. Fear, nikki, what are you doing here? I thought we could talk about your leaving. My note said everything that needed to be said. He looked past her, staring into the woods. Yeah, your note.
Speaker 5:After four years together, you moved out while I'm at work and leave a note. Let's start with that. You need to leave Nikki. He was still looking past her. After you, look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me. Nikki grabbed his face with both hands and made him look at her. She stared into his eyes and let go when she saw their sorrow. Just talk to me, ryan, tell me what's going on, please. You started acting strange right after your cousin died. Shit is already here. He was looking past her again. Nikki turned and stared into the woods A shape loped out of the darkness of the trees.
Speaker 5:It was dog-like, but larger than any dog she had ever seen. Its head was massive and when it saw her it bared its teeth. She could see they were long and sharp, even in the dim moonlight. What frightened her the most was its eyes. They glowed like burning coals. Get in the house, nikki Now.
Speaker 5:Ryan pulled her into the house and slammed the door closed. What is that, nikki cried? My family's dirty little secret, our curse. The door shuddered as the thing outside flung itself against it. "'damn it, nicky, you shouldn't have come'. He slumped into the nearest chair and buried his face in his hands.
Speaker 5:As the door shuddered from the onslaught, a dazed Nicky looked around the room filled with ostentatious furniture, tapestries and paintings all expensive-looking decor steeped in elegance and wealth. She knew his great-un uncle had money, but didn't know he had been this rich. It's something one of my ancestors summoned years and years and years ago. Ryan looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes. It's haunted my family ever since. I don't understand. It's something demonic. It cleaves to the oldest male in the bloodline and then moves on to the next in line when he dies. That's why I acted so strangely when my cousin died. My great uncle cousin and I were the only males left. My uncle was dying and my cousin was a year older than me. It was supposed to be his. You could have just told me, instead of just leaving. Told you what, nikki? That there was a hellhound on my trail. I left to keep you safe. It usually sits on the front step all night whining and scratching at the door to be let in. It's acting like this because you're here. All of this comes with a price. His vague wave took in the room and its contents. It's a jealous little monster and doesn't like to share. It will kill anyone I love. The room was suddenly quiet.
Speaker 5:As the assault on the door ended, ryan got up and cautiously approached one of the barred windows. The creature was sitting just outside on its haunches, panting and staring into the house. Its eyes were twin embers in the gloaming. Everything I wrote in that note was a lie, nikki. His back was turned towards her and he spoke to her reflection in the window.
Speaker 5:I've loved you from the moment. I saw you at David's wedding the first time we made love. I cried after you left. I couldn't believe how lucky I was. He turned and looked into her eyes. He leaves every morning just before dawn. You can go after that. I love you, nikki, but you can never see me again. There was a sound of shattering glass as she reached out to touch his face. There was a sound of shattering glass as she reached out to touch his face. Two immense paws thrust through the front window and a long muzzle reached in and started worrying at the window bars.
Speaker 5:Ryan grabbed her hand and led her upstairs to one of the bedrooms. After they moved the dresser against the door, he took a revolver out of the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed with her Silence followed a final tearing sound from downstairs. Ryan raised his finger to his lips as they heard the heavy tread of steps coming up the stairs. There was a snuffling outside the door and Nikki took his hand. They both started as a heavy body crashed against the door. When it threw itself against the door again, the frame gave way with a sharp crack.
Speaker 5:I won't watch you be torn apart, nikki. I'm the last it ends with me. He put the barrel of the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. As it pushed into the room, nikki ran to the far wall and pressed against it. The creature howled over Ryan's body. Then, sniffing the air, it slowly approached her, mewling softly. Ropes of saliva trailed from its massive jaws, exhaling sharply its breath. Like an open grave, it extended a long gray tongue and licked her stomach. She felt the baby kick okay, alex thoughts, feelings whoa.
Speaker 2:I would say this story brings up a lot of different horrific actions. The first, I would say, is uh getting the courage to confront your, your uh partner of many years after they abandoned you. Yeah, I like that in itself is a whole horror topic.
Speaker 1:Yeah, absolutely, and I also love we've talked about this before but like the interwovenness of elements of a story that are so relatable and realistic and human with elements of a horror story that are so of another universe you know that include monsters and horrifying things that we don't know exist, you know?
Speaker 2:Yeah, let me say, when this one ended, I pretty much shrieked. I was like no, of course the cycle continues.
Speaker 1:Yeah, yeah, oh, so good, really good. I was a really big fan of this story.
Speaker 2:Absolutely yeah, and this one also kept me on the edge of my seat. I felt like with every new revelation it really got deeper and more interesting.
Speaker 1:Yeah, absolutely so. This story was written by John Adcock and he has a funny bio that I'm going to share. Writing in the third person always makes the author feel like he's writing his obituary. But here goes a lover of alt rock, akira, kurosawa, movies and craft beer. The author lives in northern cal. The author lives in northern california with his wife and two kids. His beautiful wife definitely could do better, but luckily for him, she hasn't caught on to that fact yet. Rage against the machine, the black keys and the warlocks are in heavy rotation on spotify for writing inspiration, which I love that. He said that first of all the black keys and rage against the machine a billion out of ten. I haven't listened to the warlocks, so I will yeah, add that to the queue please and obviously a big fan of kurosawa film.
Speaker 1:So I love getting a little taste of kind of what people are into, you know.
Speaker 2:Yeah, where it all comes from right.
Speaker 1:Yes, absolutely. As always, we will link everything you need to follow John below and kind of stay tuned with his journey. But, yeah, love that story and, of course, that was narrated by our dear friend Denali Bartel, who did a really lovely job, as always.
Speaker 2:Absolutely Always good to hear from Denali.
Speaker 1:Yeah, and had such a great build to it, just such a great voice. I thought it was very, very well performed, okay. So, as the cool breeze perhaps gets a little colder off the ocean, we have one more story and just one final content warning of the episode before we get into this one. It is quite graphic at moments and alludes to some very nefarious, horrifying things. So just, be warned.
Speaker 3:Division of Spoils. Read by DH Parrish.
Speaker 4:Read by Mike Becerra. Sydney and I have been best friends for years. We met when their family moved here, when we were both six, and for a long time we were inseparable. Some of my best memories are of us sailing. My dad has always loved sailing and has a small sloop, and so when the weather allowed, we would go out with him on the lake as his crew. Sometimes we went fishing on the boat. There's a picture that I have framed in my room of us eating this really large bass. We somehow managed to catch Our clothes still grossly stained with blood from cleaning it. Mostly we just collected sunburns in good times. In the winter we would go sledding together at Jackson Hill and go back to their house for hot chocolate and marshmallows. And for Halloween we would always go trick-or-treating together. We would match our costumes Pirates one year. Doctor and Nurse one year. Batman and Superman one year. You get the idea.
Speaker 4:The first year we went out by ourselves when we were eight, an older kid ripped Sid's bag as a joke when we were almost done for the evening, causing almost all of their stash to fall into a mud pile and get ruined. Sid cried, but we went back to my house, pulled all our candy and divided it into two equal piles. We decided going forward that we would always split what we got, and that is what we always did. That way, no one lost out when one of us got candy corn and the other got a whole Milky Way. We would divide our spoils and share evenly. It would be completely fair. United we stood.
Speaker 4:Three years ago Sid's family moved across town. We still go to the same school, but it is a bit harder to spend time together and so we have drifted a little bit apart. Sid hangs out a bit more with the cool kids, I keep a bit more to myself. We are still good friends. The first year Sid moved, I invited them back to the neighborhood for Halloween to go trick-or-treating. We had a good time, although we didn't wear matching outfits. Sid had this goth look, going on with dark makeup. That looked really cool. It would have looked cool even if it wasn't Halloween. Well, I was dressed as an evil clown. We went out for the evening and divided our candy at the end as usual, although whenever there was an odd number of anything, sid let me have it as if they didn't care as much about the candy anymore.
Speaker 4:Last year Sid wasn't able to make it. They said they had an illness, although they recovered quickly and were able to come to school the next day, thank goodness. I had felt bad for Sid not being able to go out on Halloween and made sure that I split up the candy I had gotten and gave Sid half. They were surprised when I presented them the bag at school, but I wanted to keep our agreement. That's what friends do.
Speaker 4:This year Sid is coming over. In fact, they'll be here soon. Sid wasn't able to get here early enough to trick-or-treat. There was some family event they said they had to go to, so I went out trick-or-treating on my own. I dressed up as a zombie. I still am. I think I did a really good job on the makeup and want to show them. It's not quite as good as that goth look, but it's pretty close. I tried to visit as many houses as I could and get as much candy as I could, so we could have a lot to share with each other. As I suspected, I was probably the only one able to go out, what with Sid's family commitment. Families are great, but sometimes they get in the way of the fun. Anyway, sid will be here soon and I have a great surprise for them.
Speaker 4:There's a guy at school, jake, who we both have a crush on. Well, probably everyone has a crush on Jake. He is so cool and good looking. He's tall, with dark hair and dark eyes. He looks quite mysterious and brooding. He is on the basketball team and even drives a motorcycle. Well, guess what? Jake is coming too. Actually, he's here already.
Speaker 4:I found him after school today and got the courage to tell him that I'm having a get-together for Halloween at my house and invited him over. At first he started to say no, very politely of course, as he is also very polite, but when I told him that Sid was coming and that my parents would be out and hinted that I might have alcohol, he remembered that he would be able to make it. In fact, he's here already. He's got here at six. It's a good thing he didn't come any sooner, or my parents might have seen him, and then I would have had some explaining to do. Mom and Dad don't really like for me to have anyone over on school nights, since it might interfere with my studies.
Speaker 4:Jake looked at my makeup and told me I did a great job and apologized for not dressing up himself when I told him that Sid hadn't arrived yet. He apologized for coming too early and started to leave, saying that maybe he'd come back later. I told him not to worry and that, as promised, we had beer. Dad always keeps the fridge stocked and I gave him one. He sat down in my dad's chair. Dad would never let that happen if he were here and tried to drink it like a pro, which he definitely isn't. Boys like Jake think they know how to drink, but they don't. I watched him use as he grimaced with each sip. Still, it was cute, just like Jake. Anyway, I gave him the remote and I told him he could watch TV while I got things ready. He offered to help. Again, he's so polite, but I told him he didn't need to. So he turned on some sports channel and watched a basketball game with his beer.
Speaker 4:I went and got the shovel I had set aside for just this moment, approached him from behind and brought it down solidly on his head. He was out cold. I tied him up quickly and he didn't wake up through the whole process. As I said, I went out trick-or-treating. I was not going to waste this great costume on just two people. I got back to find Jake still in the chair where I tied him up, although he was straining against the hempen rope that bound him and the gag I had shoved into his mouth. He is not going to get out. I have spent too much time sailing for him to have any chance of loosening those knots, no matter how strong he is.
Speaker 4:So first things first, I need to divide the candy for Sid and me. That will be easy. The hard part will be dividing Jake. Maybe Sid can have their way with him before midnight and I could have him afterwards till dawn. Romantic, no, oh, I'm just kidding. That wouldn't be appropriate. Now the question is whether to cut Jake in half at the waist or split him in half vertically left and right. Much as I think the second is probably fairer, although one of us would get his heart, I don't know if I have the strength to saw through his skull. Dad has lots of tools but no power saw His spine, on the other hand, shouldn't be too much of a problem. Not much difficult than gutting a fish, I imagine. Of course I will let Sid decide if they want the top half or the bottom half. That is only fair. I'll divide and she'll choose. And that is our deal Split everything we get on Halloween equally. And now that I think about it, I also need to do something with mom and dad's bodies.
Speaker 1:I'm sure Sid will help me with that. That's what friends are for, right. I suppose if I had to pick a unifying theme for these three stories which I know is not the point of this episode it would be great, surprising endings.
Speaker 2:Oh, totally. Yes, I was completely caught off guard. Again, again, yes, three for three, totally. They fooled us all.
Speaker 1:So this story was written by DH, by dh parish, who is a physician by day and horror and speculative fiction author by night. He has had stories appear on multiple horror podcasts, including scare you to sleep nocturnal transmissions in the morbid forest, as well as in several print horror anthologies, and we will leave the link to dh parish's author page in the description of this episode so you can keep an eye out on works he already has in the ether and new ones. Hopefully that will be coming. I thought this story was great, of course, but I also really loved the performance by mike macera, our friend mike macera, who narrated it, because it starts and he has the perfect voice for this. I feel like it started so sweetly, innocently, and then, as it evolved, I feel like his performance did a really great job in kind of carrying us through to the reveal at the end.
Speaker 2:If anything, he was very consistent with his timbre. That maybe made the performance that much more shocking when, all of a sudden, we were at the end and all of us all these horrible things were happening horrible, things horrible.
Speaker 1:And these middle school kids are just oh yeah, like they used to be.
Speaker 2:No, no, not like when we were growing up no, I would have never cut someone in half for one of my friends look, I'm an advocate for halloween all year long also, so I'm very glad to get a little taste of Halloween during the spring.
Speaker 1:Yes, we have to live for something.
Speaker 2:Yes, that's very true.
Speaker 1:There has to be something out there for us. Well, another successful Campfire Tales episode. I would say I again just thank you to all of the writers and narrators who help keep this series and this podcast going, because we very much rely on your very, very talented skills and everyone is quite generous and allows us to use and feature their work and their voices. And, just again, I really love the sense of community. And if you are a writer or a narrator but if you're a writer, head to lunaticsprojectcom, click on submit. There you will find the list of topics and stories, types of stories that we're looking for and accepting currently, as well as a link to a form where you could submit your stories to us directly. We're no longer accepting submissions via email, um, but so we kind of try to keep things a little bit more organized now, uh, in the form. But thank you all so much for listening and, alex, thank you for being part of this series.
Speaker 2:Oh, thank you for having me again. This was so fun.
Speaker 1:Of course. Okay, everyone. Well, thank you so much for listening. I hope you're staying safe and staying spooky, and we'll talk to you soon. Bye.
