Calarogu Shark Media, Hello and Welcome to Ghost. This episode is titled The
Houndmaster. In the small, fog enshrouded town of Blackwood, nestled between dense,
whispering forests and a restless sea, a legend had taken root. It
was a tale that chilled the bones of even the bravest souls, the Tale
of the Houndmaster. As the name suggests, the Houndmaster was no ordinary ghost.
Cloaked in shadows, He roamed the streets of Blackwood at the stroke of
midnight, a spectral figure walking his equally ghostly dog. The dog, a
massive beast with glowing red eyes and bared, snarling teeth, was a terrifying
sight to behold. Residents of Blackwood whispered tales of the Houndmaster with a mix
of fear and awe. It was said that his presence was heralded by a
chilling wind and the faint jingle of the dog's collar. Those unfortunate enough to
encounter them reported feeling an overwhelming sense of dread, their blood running cold in
their veins. The hound Master, his face forever hidden beneath a wide brimmed
hat, was a figure of mystery. No one knew who he was or
why he walked the streets with his menacing companion, but one thing was certain.
His dog was vicious, attacking anyone who dared to get too close.
On nights when the moon was hidden behind thick clouds, casting the town into
deeper darkness, the Houndmaster's steps echoed through the empty streets. The sound of
his boots on the cobblestone, accompanied by the low growl of his dog,
was enough to send shivers down the spines of Blackwood's residence. One night,
a young man named Ethan, fueled by curiosity and disbelief in the supernatural,
decided to seek out the Houndmaster. He waited at the town square, the
clock tower looming overhead, its hands inching closer to midnight. As the clock
struck twelve, a dense fog rolled in from the sea, enveloping the town
in a ghostly shroud. Then he heard it, the jingle of a dog's
collar, followed by the rhythmic footsteps of the houndmaster. Emerging from the mist
was the ghastly duo. The Houndmaster, tall and imposing, walked with a
measured pace, his dog by his side, its eyes burning like embers in
the fog. Ethan, hiding behind a barrel, watched in both fear and
fascination. Suddenly, the dog stopped sniffing the air. It let out a
low, menacing growl, its gaze turning towards Ethan's hiding spot. Ethan could
react. The dog lunged, barking furiously, its teeth bared and ready to
strike. Ethan screamed, stumbling backward as the dog snapped at him. The
houndmaster, with a swift motion, pulled the dog back, its leash creaking
as if strained by an immense force. His hidden face turned towards Ethan,
and a voice, deep and echoing, emanated from the shadows beneath his hat.
Leave now, or suffer the wrath of the midnight hound, the houndmaster
warned, his tones sending a chill down Ethan's spine. Ethan, his heart
pounding in his chest, managed to stutter out a response, Who are you?
What do you want from us? His voice was barely a whisper,
drowned out by the oppressive silence of the night. The houndmaster tilted his head,
the brim of his hat casting a deeper shadow over his unseen face.
I am but a guardian of the night, a keeper of the boundary between
your world and the one that lies beyond. He intoned, his voice,
a deep, resonant echo that seemed to come from the depths of the earth.
This hound, my eternal companion, serves as a protector of this threshold.
Heeds its growls, for they are warnings of the doom that awaits the
unwary. One of the teens, trying to mask his fear with bravado,
called out, You're just a story, a ghost tale to scare kids.
We don't believe in your curses. The hound master's laughter was a low,
rumbling sound that seemed to emanate from the ground beneath their feet. Disbelief does
not spare you from the truth of the night, he replied. The midnight
hound cares not for your beliefs. His teeth are real, as is the
pain he inflicts. The dog's growls grew louder, more threatening, its eyes
burning coals in the darkness. He senses your fear, feeds on it,
the houndmaster continued, It is a fuel that ignites his wrath. Leave now
while you still can, For once the leash is dropped, your fate will
no longer be in my hands. The air around them seemed to thicken with
tension, the moment hanging in a delicate balance between caution and calamity. Ethan,
his instincts screaming at him to flee, took a step back, the
fear in his eyes reflecting the glowing eyes of the hound. Remember this night,
the Houndmaster, whispered, his voice a chilling breeze. Remember that the
veil between worlds is thin, and there are entities that lurk in the shadows,
waiting for the brave or the foolish. Go now and let the darkness
be a reminder of the midnight hound's mercy. With a final lingering glance at
the spectral figure and his monstrous pet, Ethan and his friends turned and fled
into the night, the sound of their pounding hearts drowning out the Houndmaster's eerie
laughter and the jingle of the hound's collar. The next day, Ethan's tale
spread through Blackwood like wildfire. The legend of the Houndmaster grew, adding a
new chapter to the ghostly lore of the town. People stayed indoors at night,
fearful of crossing paths with the spectral dog walker and his vicious companion.
The Houndmaster became a symbol of terror in Blackwood, a ghostly enigma that haunted
the streets at night. His true identity and the origins of his ghostly dog
remained a mystery, shrouded in the shadows of the town's darkest fears. As
the weeks passed, more sightings were reported. Each account was eerier than the
last, with the Houndmaster scene walking through walls or disappearing into thin air,
his dog always at his side, its growls and snarls and nightmarish melody for
those who heard them. His appearances were always at midnight, the hour when
the veil between the living and the dead was at its thinnest. Local law
suggested that he was the spirit of a former resident of Blackwood, a man
who had loved his dog more than anything in life and had met a tragic
end. Some said he was searching for something or someone bound to the earthly
realm by unresolved anguish. On one particularly foggy night, a group of daring
teenagers, skeptical and seeking thrills, ventured out to challenge the legend of the
Houndmaster. Armed with cameras and a sense of invincibility, they roamed the streets,
calling out for the ghostly figure. As the clock tower bell told midnight,
a sudden chill filled the air, and the familiar jingle of the dog's
collar echoed in the distance. The teenager's bravado faltered as the phantom walker emerged
from the fog, his dog snarling viciously. Its eyes are fiery red.
The encounter that followed was chaotic and terrifying. The dog lunged at the group,
its teeth snapping inches from their faces. The phantom walker, with a
motion of his hand, barely restrained the beast, his voice a hollow echo
in the night. This is not your place, children of the living,
he intoned, his words, sending a wave of fear through the group.
Leave before my hound's patience wears thin. The Houndmaster stood tall amidst the swirling
fog, his ghostly dog straining against the leash, Growling with unrestrained ferocity.
He addressed the trembling teens with a final warning, his voice resonating with an
eerie calm that belied the danger they faced. This is your last chance.
Leave now and never returned to these streets after midnight, But the teens,
fueled by a mix of fear and defiance, stood their ground, their false
bravado masking their terror. With a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of
centuries, the houndmaster slowly released his grip on the leash. The last sound
echoing in the night was the jingle of the collar as the monstrous hound lunged
forward, and then sudden, chilling silence. Ghost is a Calaogus Shark Media
production written and hosted by Alexander Ian McIntyre, produced by Mark Francis. Executive
producers Mark Francis and John McDermott. Portions of this podcast may have been created
with the assistance of Ai Calaruga Shark Media m HM.