Hello, Welcome to the final belated episode of this season's Blurry Fault Time.
This will be the annual ghost Stories episode. Stick around after the tales for
some news, including big news on the film streaming and what else has been
going on to cause such delays with episodes lately. I'll discuss it after puns.
For now, I have a selection of four creepy stories and a poem
to keep you chilled to the bone on a cold winter's night or a warm
summer's night for our friends down under. Here is the twelfth installment of ghost
Stories, Dark Sleep. Samantha had two best friends named Ginny and Amber.
Her father was taking her on a weekend vacation and she invited them to come
along. Her family owned a cabin in the woods, and on Friday evening,
her father drove the girls up there. See that lake, asked Samantha
when they arrived. That's lake, Samantha. My dad grew up here.
He loved it so much he named it after me. That night, after
they had unpacked their things, the three girls set around and thought of ways
to amuse themselves. Does anybody have any spooky stories? Asked Gamber. I
have one, said Jenny. It's a true story too. It happened to
a friend of a friend of mine. She was babysitting these two little kids.
One night. She's sitting in the dark by herself watching TV, and
the phone rings. She goes over and answers it, and hears a voice
on the other end, breathing really heavy, and it says, have you
checked on the children? Genny? Come on? Amber interrupted. Everybody's heard
that one. That's a lamess scary story. Ever, does anyone else have
a story one that's actually true? I know one? Samantha said, about
ten minutes hike from here, there's an old, broken down house. We
passed it on the way up here. It's out in the middle of nowhere,
tucked away off a narrow, little side road. A long time ago,
a man lived there. His family were really healthy, and they owned
hundreds of acres of land around here. This man met a simple country girl
from a simple country town and they fell in love. His family wasn't too
happy about it. They didn't think the girl was good enough for him,
but he ignored them. He was an independent type of guy and went off
and built a little house on a chunk of their land out in the middle
of nowhere. He married this girl and everything was wonderful. They had a
daughter, and eventually they had a son. This is where the story starts
to go bad. Their son was sick, not physically but mentally. He
was sick in the head. He wasn't mentally disabled or anything. He was
just a little off. By the time he was nine years old, he
became too much for his parents to handle, throwing temper tantrums, erratic sleeping
patterns, disappearing into the woods and hiding that kind of thing. Not knowing
what to do about his son, the man turned to his family for help.
His parents had the boy taken away. They sent him to a place
deep in the woods. It wasn't an insane asylum, but it catered to
people with special needs, if you know what I mean. His parents thought
it was for the best. Over time, the family got used to not
having him around. They gradually stopped visiting him. They functioned as if they
had never even had a son, and everything went back to being wonderful again.
Eight years later, the boy, who was about sixteen or seventeen at
this time, managed to escape from the hospital. The staff did a search,
but he was nowhere to be found. His family was notified and they
were devastated. They were worried for his safety. He had been alone in
the wilderness for weeks and he was probably dead, But the boy wasn't dead.
One night, he found his way back home. He crept into his
house and one by one he slaughtered his entire family, his father, his
mother, his sister, all of them chopped to pieces. With the blood
still dripping from his axe. He disappeared into the woods. When the grizzly
remains of his family were discovered a few days later, the townsfolk and the
surrounding area were horrified. The police tried to find the boy, but it
was no use. To this day, he has never been found since then.
Every year around harvest time, people have started to go missing, and
in their place a corn husk doll would be left behind. Legend has it
the boy still roams the woods around these parts. The surrounding towns have bought
into the legend, and they hang dolls by their front door for protection.
They say, if the boy sees a doll hanging from the door of a
house, he will pass by that house and leave the residence in peace.
Nobody knows if it's true or not, but there's a doll hanging from every
door of every house in town. That's so creepy, cried Jinny. Do
you have a doll on your door? Of course, said Samantha. My
dad says he doesn't believe the legend, but we hung one just in case.
I think I just peed my pants, said Amber. Apparently the house
is still haunted by the ghosts of his murdered family, and if you go
up there late at night, you can hear the whole thing take place all
over again. Do you think we can go up there, Jinny asked,
Sure, said Samantha, but tomorrow during daylight. There's no sense tempting fate.
That night, the girl slept in the same room and huddled together,
trying to pretend they weren't frightened by the story and expecting to hear something tapping
at the window at any moment. The next morning, Samantha's father made them
all a big breakfast, and they went down to the lake for a swim.
Around noon, they decided to make the trip up to the old haunted
house. When they got there, the girl sensed an eerie presence in the
old, dilapidated place, It was enough to make their skin crawl. They
explored the ruins of the old house, peeking into corners and sifting through the
rubble. After a while, Samantha spotted something half buried in the dirt.
It was some sort of book. She dug it out and dusted it off.
The girls gathered around as she opened it and began to flip through the
yellowed pages. It's like a diary or something, said Samantha. Maybe it's
his diary. Jenny whispered, who's diary, asked Amber. The guy,
said Jinny, the guy that killed his family. Samantha read the diary aloud
as the others listened. There's a dedication inscribed on the inside cover, she
said. It reads to my family, who I love and cherish and will
always be with me. September fifth, nineteen eighty seven. It has been
hard alone. All they had to do was talk to me. They could
not talk to me. I hear their voices late at night. Sometimes I
hear their screams. It is cold and dark. I needed love. They
did not love me. The medicines are gone. I am free, free
from all of them. If they could not love me, they had to
go dark sleep for everyone. I hear their voices, still always screaming.
December fourth, nineteen eighty seven. They've stopped looking for me. It is
okay for me. Now I live in the forest. I chase down the
animals and put them in dark sleep, just like Mom and dad in sys
I visit my old house at night. I listened to the voices, and
at least they talk to me now. October third, nineteen ninety five.
I left the forest years ago and moved to a small town near by.
Nobody recognizes me. No one knows who I am. I hear people telling
my story. Sometimes it makes me laugh inside. They all fear me.
I still come to the forest sometimes I spend the nights in my old house.
Mom and Dad still talk to me. They say they are very proud
of me. November two, nineteen ninety eight. Life has been good.
I found a job about a house. I met a girl. She is
very quiet and pretty. Sometimes I bring her to the forest. She likes
it. I let Mom and Dad see her. They like her. July
first, two thousand. Today is a great day. I have a baby.
Now I'm so happy. Mom and Dad are grandparents. Now my wife
isn't doing so well though it was hard for her, she might not make
it. Maybe she will go in dark sleep. I am happy now.
August thirteenth, twenty ten. I am so proud of my child. She
is just like me, except she is much smarter. She has no problems,
she doesn't hear the voices. She goes to school and has lots of
friends, not like me. Sometimes I take her to the woods. I
love her so much. I named her after the lake Samantha. For a
few moments after Samantha stopped reading, there was stunned to silence. What the
heck, cried Jinny, Samantha, Is this some sort of joke? Amber
asked nervously. It isn't funny this, this can't be true, Samantha whispered,
couldn't possibly be Just then, they heard the sound of twigs snapping behind
them. When they turned around, they saw Samantha's father standing there. There
was a strange, pained look on his face, and he was holding an
axe in his hands. You weren't supposed to find that, he muttered,
there's no other way now, dark sleep for everyone. No, Dad,
Samantha screamed, no, no, no. When Samantha's father had finished chopping
up the bodies. He put the pieces in large plastic bags and buried them
deep in the woods, so deep that no one would ever find them.
Now they could be together forever. I'll watch over you now, he mumbled
as he padded down the earth with a shovel. You may not understand now,
but you will in time. This is the only way for us to
be together. Dark sleep, Forever we all stayed together. Car keys.
One night, a father and his daughter were driving down a deserted country road.
They were returning home after spending the entire day visiting the girl's mother in
hospital. Listening to the sound of the rain drumming on the car roof,
the girl began to doze off. Suddenly there was a loud bang. The
father struggled with the steering wheel, but the car skidded off the wet road
and slammed into a stone wall. After checking that his daughter was uninjured,
the man got out of the car to survey the damage. Both of the
front tires had large punctures and the right finger was crumpled against the wall.
The rest of the car had survived unscathed. Must have driven over something in
the road, he explained to his daughter. Whatever it was, it blew
out both the tires. You can fix it, right, asked the daughter,
somewhat shaken by the accident. No, replied the father, shaking his
head. I've only got one spear in the boot. I'll have to walk
back into town and find somebody to toe the car, he said. It
isn't far from here. You can wait in the car while I'm gone.
Okay, she said reluctantly, but please don't take too long. The man
could see in his daughter's eyes that she was frightened. Sit tight, replied
the father as he slammed the car door. I'll be back at two o'clock.
His daughter watched him in the rear view mirror as he trudged off down
the road in the pouring ring disappeared into the night. More than an hour
passed and her father still had not returned. The girl began to wonder what
was taking him so long. She was very worried because he should have been
back by now. Just then, she glanced in the rear view mirror and
saw a figure in the distance walking towards the car. At first she thought
it was her father, but when she turned around to take a closer look,
she realized that it was a strange man. He was dressed in overalls,
had a big, bushy beard. He was carrying something large in his
left hand, swinging him back and forth. Something about him made her very
nervous. As he approached, she stared at the back window and squint at
her eyes. In the dim light, she could just make out what he
was clutching in his other hand. It was a big, sharp, butcher's
eye. Thinking quickly, the terrified girl locked both doors in the front of
the car, and then jumped into the back seat and locked the rear doors.
When she looked up again, she saw that the strange man had stopped
in his tracks and seemed to be staring directly at her. Suddenly, the
man raised his arm and the girl let out a blood curdling scream. In
his left hand, he was clutching her father's severed head. She just kept
screaming and screaming. She couldn't stop herself. Her heart was pounding and she
struggled to breathe. The grotesque expression on her father's face was horrifying to behold.
His mouth was hanging open and his eyes were rolled back in his head.
When the man reached the car. He shoved his face right up against
the window and glowered at her with his crazed, bloodshot eyes. His hair
was wild and matted with dirt. His face was covered in deep scars.
For a moment, he just stood there in the driving rain, grinning at
her like a madman. Then he reached into his pocket, took something out,
and slowly lifted his left hand. He was holding her father's car keys.
We'll take a quick ad break and be back soon, piggyback. There
was once a married couple who had one young son. Even before their son
was born, the couple's marriage was on shaky ground. As the years went
by, the mother and father fought all the time. Their arguments became more
frequent, and they talked about getting a divorce. In the end, they
stayed together for the sake of their son, but the arguments continued and the
fights became more and more violent. By the time their son was five years
old, the couple had grown to hate each other. One night, after
they had put the boy to bed, the mother and father got into an
enormous argument. The father flew into an insane rage and murdered his wife.
When he came to his senses, and realized what he had done. He
set about disposing of the body. He dragged his wife's corpse into the garage
and put her in the boot of his car. Then he drove out to
the mountains under cover of darkness. He slung her dead body over his shoulders
and carried her out to a marshy swamp nearby. He dragged her out into
the foul smelling muck and watched as her corpse sank into the murky depths.
As dawn was beginning to break, he returned home to clean up and take
a shower. No matter how much he scrubbed and scrubbed, he couldn't seem
to get rid of the sickening smell of the swamp. He slept for a
few hours, and when he awoke, he started to think about what he
would do if his son asked where his mother was. He decided to tell
the boy that his wife had gone to stay with her sister for a while.
However, when his young son got up for breakfast, he never mentioned
his mother at all. He just stared at his father and said nothing.
The man could still smell the odor of the muck from the swamp where he
had buried his wife. He took an air freshener and began spraying it around
the house, hoping to mask the unpleasant scent. It made him feel sick.
A few hours passed and the little boy was watching TV in the living
room. The father began to get an uneasy feeling in the pit of his
stomach. Every time he went into the living room, he noticed that his
son was staring at him with a curious look on his face. It made
the father feel nervous and paranoid. His mind was racing. Perhaps the boy
knew what had happened, he thought. Maybe the boy had overheard him murdering
his mother. If his son knew what he had done, perhaps he would
have to kill him as well. The father walked into the room where his
son was still watching TV. Is there something you want to ask me,
he said. The boy thought for a few seconds and then replied, yeah.
Is it about your mother, asked the father. Yeah, said the
boy. And I suppose you're wondering where your mother is, said the father.
No, said the boy. I'm wondering why mommy's face is so pale,
and why you've been giving her a piggyback ride all day. Vault door.
There was once a boy who got a summer job working in a cemetery.
It was not the type of work he would normally choose, but his
dad was friends with the undertaker and had convinced him to take the job despite
his fear of dead bodies. It was a very eerie place to work,
and after being there for over a week, the boy still got the creeps
when he caught sight of a corpse. Luckily, he didn't have to get
anywhere near the dead bodies. His work consisted mainly of digging graves, sweeping,
polishing, and cutting grass. His boss, the undertaker, was the
one who prepared the dead bodies for burial. The scariest things were the vaults.
Families bought these large tombs, and every member of the family who died
was placed inside the vault in a coffin. It creeped him out to think
about all those bodies lying around inside the dusty chambers and secret rooms. The
boy gradually got used to working in the cemetery and everything went well until one
evening the unthinkable happened. While he was inside one of the vaults, sweeping
the floor and polishing the name plates, A gust of wind blew the vault
door shut. He realized, to his horror that he was trapped in the
crypt, surrounded by dead bodies and coffins, with no one to help him.
His worst nightmare was coming true. He shouted and hollered, but it
was no use. Oh the Undertaker's house was too far away and nobody could
hear him. As the hours passed, the desperate boy realized that he would
have to rely on himself and began to try to think of a way out.
There was a small open window high up above the vault door, Unfortunately
it was much too high to reach. Looking around the tomb, he decided
that he could use the coffins. If he stacked them up, one on
top of the other, they could form a flight of steps. After stacking
the coffins up against the door, the boy climbed up them gingerly, taking
care not to tip them over. Just when he thought his plan was working,
he stepped on the top coffin and the wood gave way under his weight.
His foot went straight through the coffin lid, and he felt a sudden
sharp pain in his leg ah crying out in agony, He could picture the
splintered wood and rushxten nails slicing into his skin. The stack of coffins began
to wobble, and for one horrifying moment, he thought he was going to
lose his balance and tumble down to the stone floor. Luckily, he managed
to grab onto the window and steady himself. He could feel blood trickling down
his leg. Despite the pain he was in, the boy pulled himself up
and began shaking his leg to free himself from the coffin lid. The stack
of coffins tipped over and clattered to the ground. Clinging to the window,
the boy pulled with all his might and crawled through the narrow opening. He
dropped down on the outside and limped toward the undertaker's house to get help.
The undertaker came out and found the poor boy lying on his doorstep clutching his
bleeding leg. He carried the boy to his car and drove him straight to
the hospital. After the doctor washed off all the blood, he began to
examine the boy's wounds. How did you get these injuries, asked the doctor.
I got cut by some broken pieces of wood, said the boy.
But these aren't cuts, said the doctor, they're human bite marks. Willow
garden. Down in the willow garden, my true love and I did meet,
and there we sat a courton. My love fell off to sleep.
I had a bottle of burgundy wine I love. She did not know.
And there I poisoned that dear little girl down by the banks below. I
drew my knife right through her heart. It was a bloody night, true
her in the river. Then it was a dreadful sight. My father always
told me that money would set me free if I did murder that dear little
girl whose name was Rose Connolly. Now he sits by his old cabin door,
and he's wiping his tear brimmed eyes. He's mourning for his only son
out on the scaffold high I've traveled the world over, and I knew some
day i'd go to where the fires are burning down in hell below. My
race is run beneath the sun, and the devil's now waiting for me,
for I did murder that pretty little girl whose name was Rose Connolly. That's
the twelfth installment of ghost Stories in a smelly, rainy, bloody nutshell.
And now for the stinky ghost on your back puns, Get those annoying barbecue
Cravens off your back with the new Asian Southern Fusion restaurant that really pulls the
stink from the swamp. You'll be mired and barbecue smells that you'll never be
able to shake, and the kids will love it too. Only at the
Piggy Shack Barbecue to Kill four, come on down to the store that meets
all your nightly needs. When you fall asleep on our one hundred percent Irish
made bedding, you'll feel like you've been poisoned and stabbed through the heart in
a good way. Sleep like you're dead and floating down the river with our
new headrest options. Only at your new bedroom Outfitters, Pillow Garden and Ems
Puns. Thanks for sticking around. So here's some news about Shadows in the
Desert, the film Derek Kays and I put together. They gave us a
streaming date of March fifth. That means it'll be available to watch on that
date, most likely to rent or buy it first. We haven't been told
the streaming platform yet. We're hoping it'll be Amazon Prime, maybe to be
something like that. They'll let us know eventually, but March fifth, Shadows
in the Desert, look for it and for all you backers of the Kickstarter
that helped us make this film in the first place. We'll be in touch
to verify shipping addresses so you guys can get your rewards and thank you again
for your patients. We're also going to be showing the film in the Sydney
Sci Fi Film Festival, which is actually happening in Melbourne in Australia. Their
organization name is the Sydneysy five Film Festival, I think something like that,
and they are holding at least part of it, if not all of it,
in Melbourne this year from my understanding. Anyways, Australian friends, that's
going to be February twenty fifth at Cinema Nova in Carlton. I'll also be
posting some more info about that on Facebook, so mark your calendars, go
check it out and tell everybody, hey, great film, thanks for having
it. Give them an award. On another note, I've gotten myself kind
of busy lately because I have started a theater company where I'm living. This
has taken up a ton of time and the podcast has suffered for it.
I'm working on finding the balance so it's not so long between episodes, but
you know that's easier said than done, so for now, I thank you
for your patience as you wait for more content. You guys who I've listened
for a while, know that I place a great deal of emphasis on quality
in my content and deep, well researched information. Now that takes time,
but I don't want to sacrifice that quality just to get some filler out there.
I hope you can understand, and I appreciate you staying with me and
listening. And that's what's up, or at least the short of it.
If you want to support me and or the arts, follow Firebird Theater Company
on Facebook and Instagram. It has a little black firebird outlined in red and
orange as the logo and we could use the support. Other than that,
you can hear me and Brent cover fun topics on Hysteria fifty one, listen
to me on Quiz Quiz Bang Bang for some trivia, and check out my
audio books by searching for my name on Audible. Anyway, I've kept you
long enough. Thank you so much for listening, and for this episode of
Blurry Photos. I have been the bidy body in the vault. David Flora,
don't stop blurr even to to