Good evening, my beloved coven of listeners. Gather round your hearth fire,
but don't look directly into the flames, for we have for you a tale
of nightmares, not so near death experiences, and of course, necromancy.
Speaking of necromancy, the Fireside Mystery Theater live show is back. This tale
was told to a predominantly a live audience as part of our original presentation Nightfall
on the Nutmeg State. These almost entirely true stories are stitched together with thread
spun from the classic Northeastern Gothic backdrop of a special location we like to call
Connecticut. The story you are about to hear. The Grave of Midnight Mary
was taped live at the Westport Library in Westport, Connecticut on Friday the thirteenth
of October twenty twenty three. Welcome one and all to this our long awaited,
eagerly anticipated and very first live presentation since COVID nineteen was young. It
has been a while, my lovelies, and we are thrilled to be here
with you as we tread the boards of this hallowed institution known as the Westport
Library, here in beautiful Westport, Connecticut, so cozily nestled on the shores
of the Saugatuck River. Now let us trace our collective fingers along the map
from Westport to the auspicious town of new Haven. New Haven is Connecticut's third
largest city and home to a respected but little known university. Well, perhaps
you've heard of it. Okay, Yes, you've definitely heard of it.
Yale. It's Yale. New Haven is also home to Evergreen Cemetery, the
final resting place of many of Connecticut's most notable citizens, including two state governors,
civil War general, and Edward Bouchet, the first African American to earn
a PhD at an American university. Yale. It was Yale, but the
most famous grave can be found at the back of the cemetery, Plot fifty,
Grave four, which contains a large pink granite tombstone with the following epitaph.
At high noon, just from and about to renew her daily work in
her full strength of body and mind, Mary E. Hart, having fallen
prostrate, remained unconscious until she died at midnight October fifteenth, eighteen seventy two.
Arching above that epitaph in thick black letters, you'll find another message.
The people shall be troubled at midnight and pass away. Rather ominous for a
gravestone. Even more off is the legend that comes along with it. Rumor
has it that Mary Hart now haunts Evergreen Cemetery as Midnight Mary, wreaking horrible
vengeance for the wrong that was done to her. But what wrong was that?
We take you now to a quaint but cozy cottage deep in the woods,
where three mysterious women are busily preparing to receive a not entirely welcome dinner
guest. Alma, are we out of bay Leaves? Why would we need
bay leaves? It's a terrible time for manifestation spells. There is a new
moon in Capricorn. It's for the pot roast I'm making for mister Hart.
I asked you to put it on the shopping list last week. Well I
didn't. Oh, who's mister Hart's my fiancee? Oh really, Chloe?
Did her other coven approve the match? I don't recall this sisterhood giving consent?
Well, I don't care either way. If Chloe wants to enter into
a meaningless human contract and subject herself to the whims of a silly human man,
she's grown witch and can do what she likes. I doubt she'll be
gone long. Darling. You may be leaving our coven, but just remember,
when the time comes, the door will always be open to our poison
cabinet. I'm not going to poison James. I love him. He's perfect
for me. He's kind, he's honest, he's single. Well, he's
a widower, which reminds me. Do not mention his dead wife. It
makes him very sad. Well. I hope he likes bland, unseasoned pot
roast because someone forgot to buy every spice on my list. Oh I didn't
forget, I just didn't want to. I'm sure he won't mind. The
poor man probably hasn't had a home cooked meal in ages. Now, Lucille,
you must promise me you're not brewing up some kind of silly, little
witchy potion to turn him into a frog or send him into another dimension.
Of course, not that would have required help from one of you. I
only had time to cook the food. I didn't have the time or the
ingredients, Alma, for any spell work. Really, I mean you've been
at it for hours. I assumed you were doing some kind of magic.
I am. I have created a four course meal for four people with only
twelve hours notice. So what no spells at all, not even a protective
salt ring. What we just trust men? Now? We just let them
into our cottage, our most sacred space, and feed them food that has
no witchcraft or poison in it. Fine, I'll go find something, yes
please? Oh have we learned nothing from the Hartford witch trials after watching our
sisters burn and burn? That was centuries ago, and you're thinking of the
European witch hunts during the Reformation in Connecticut and Salem. We watched our sisters
hang. They preferred hanging exactly. So the only man I will ever trust
is a dead one. Oh that must be mister hart glamours on sisters,
do not embarrass me. Hello, Darling, I'm so glad you could join
us. Chloe, you look divine, positively bewitching, and these must be
your sisters, ladies. I feel as if we are already acquainted. Let's
see the lovely ladies staring that fragrance stew must be Lucille, and the enchanting
madam staring at me as the looks could kill must be Alma Charmed. And
technically looks can kill. You just need to pluck the eyes out of No.
No, thank you, Alma. Nice to meet you, mister Heart.
Please have a seat, he will deny. Please. Well, I
hope you do enjoy this home cooked meal. Chloe tells us it's been a
while. What do you mean I had a lovely home cook meal just this
morning? Oh my, I didn't know you could cook? What? No?
Oh right, my housekeeper is an excellent cook. Of course, as
soon as Chloe and I are wed, I'll dismiss her right away. The
kitchen will be all yours, my dear, as will all the cooking and
cleaning. Oh will that be nice? Sounds delightful? Anyway, mister Hart,
tell us all about your dead wife. Yes, where is she buried?
She wasn't cremated, was she? My god? No? Oh good,
I'm sorry, dear. I told them how sensitive you are, and
how very emotional you become around the subject sensitive. No, I'm not sensitive,
fire away. How did she die? Was she fully intact? What
took her life? Is the ground consecrated? Where is she buried? Grade
minds? Was she in the Evergreen cemetery? No? Well, give me
a minute. I know where she's buried, of course I do. I
just need a moment. Oh mmmmmmmmmm? Can you pass the salt? This
pot roast is quite loud? No, Lucille, what should you do to
him? Oh? Nothing permanent. I just ripped a tiny little hole in
time and space so that the three of us could have a private conversation.
Oh look at him, his little mouth so full of half chewed meat,
like a cat or a demon. Isn't he just adorable? I don't trust
him? Oh of course you don't. You hate love? I love love.
The sisterhood of this coven is all the love I need. I just
don't trust him, and neither does Lucille. She's right, I don't.
Who doesn't know where their wife is buried? Chloe? Don't you know the
location of all of your lover's remains? The ones you didn't eat? I
suppose so, all right. I didn't have time to put anything into the
roast, but I did splash a little true serum into the wine. Why
don't we pour him a glass and ask him to take you to see his
wife's great No, you promise not to do any spells on him, and
we haven't yet. Oh what are you afraid of? If we give him
the serum and he's not lying, then we will give you our full consent
to Mary. Right, Alma, fine, fine, but not as glad
as my wife's cooking was. May she rest in peace? Well, a
little salt should help, and I personally feel that any meal can be improved
by a glass of wine. Allow me. Well, can't say much of
a drinker, except for every single night of my morning whiskey. Hmm.
This wine is better than I thought it would be. I had assumed you
old maids would be quite poor. Well, Lucy, you've outdone yourself.
It comes on strong, but it wears off quickly, so let's get to
it. Tell me, darling, where is your dearly beloved decea east wife
buried? Oh, my wife's not dead. I'm still very much married,
and I'm having an affair with you. Chloe. Well, that's very disappointing.
Oh, don't be sad. I absolutely intend on making you my wife,
at least until you lose your looks or I meet someone else I like
better, or you can't keep up with the housework and the cooking. Oh
right, I think our work is done here. No, it's just beginning.
You see, old Mary, that's my wife's name. It started to
become less adept at her wifely duties. Lately, I get home from work
and dinner isn't even on the table. And ever since her aunt was widowed,
and the two of them are constantly visiting and gossiping and whispering, clucking
like hens all night long, And when I arise, breakfast is nothing but
cold ham pudding, jellied egg yolks, and cups of larted beef broth.
Where's my fresh bread with bone jam? How difficult that must be for you?
Yes, and I feel as though Chloe understands me. She's truly devoted
to making me happy. Mary has fallen under the influence of her shrew of
an aunt and given up on pleasing her spouse. Yes, dear, but
you are still married fair enough. But you know what I deserve better.
I need to seek out some happiness in this world, and I will do
whatever it takes. In fact, if you want to see where my wife
is buried, then by God, I will bury my wife. I'll return
directly to town murder my Mary in cold blood, and then Chloe, I
will take you to her grave. We will stand upon it, and after
which I will whist you off to the chapel where we will become man and
wife. Oh no, please don't do that. No, thank you shh.
You are a good woman, and I know you would never ask this
of me, but I am prepared to do what is needed, so I
must be off. Farewell, ladies, thank you for this mediocre dinner.
You are all very strange, and I'm feeling pretty weird. But Chloe,
you are a vision. And I have also enjoyed Ogling and Lucille's delicious hips
as well as Alma's ample bosom. Expect to hear from me soon. Tuta,
Well, that took a turn. Oh no, Chloe, he didn't
be different. He seemed to really like me. I don't think that was
the problem. Can't be in my room, Oh for Satan's sake, and
let's take the childice to collect your tears. Just let her go, Chloe,
I brought you your favorite live nightcrawlers soaked in the blood of beds.
Thank you. Put them in my broom, satchel. I'll eat them as
I fly. And where are we going? Well, if it wasn't for
us, mister Hart would have never have thought of murdering his poor wife.
So now I am going into town to report him to the constant. Oh
no, no, do you think that's wise. Let's think this through.
You, an unmarried woman and a stranger to the community, are planning on
showing up in the middle of the night to report a crime that may or
may not have been committed, with no evidence and nothing to back up your
story. Yes. No, As much as we adore breaking you out of
the menstrual wing of the Home for Hysterical Women, we can't just call upon
the constable exactly. We need to make him believe suspecting mister Hart was his
idea. I'm not a prophetic dream. What if we land in a nightmare,
they exhaust me and they ruin my glamor, that's a chance we'll have
to take. I'll get the Valerian root, Chloe, light the candles and
Alma. Yes, I've already made the salt ring. It's not like this
is the first dream we've appeared in. How's my hair? Lovely? You're
ready, sisters, n Now let's go higher, Stephens high. I want
to show Bell the dougeball. Of course, you are very smart and an
excellent constable. It is an honor to work beneath you and to pilot your
flying torigible castle wars Indeed, Deputy, you are one lucky man, but
not as lucky as I to have such a comely and handsome woman as the
lovely Bell. Look, Darling, the pyramids of guys Giza, Love,
Lucia, I want to see the Pyramide. Those aren't the pyramids, Chloe.
The real pyramids don't have the Constable's face etched into them. And don't
look down, Alma, Why, oh, sweet Lucifer, humans should not
fly. It's just not natural. Well, actually it's perfectly natural. You
see the fire heats up the air, and then the air attempts to escape
the fire by flying into the blue. Right Stephens, exactly, sir,
that is how this work, I know. Welcome ladies to my flying dirigible
castle Warship. I feel did it for my paramour. May I introduce you
to the lovely Bell. Damn it, Stevens, look what you've done.
Bell turned into mother again. I apologize, sir, It is my fault.
All right, sisters, drop your glamours and let's get this over with.
Heed this message from the three Here in dreams, we call to the
James hot name, great man and polish name jess Warm and Mary Heart is
yours? Anything you say good morning, Lucia, How long was I I'm
so worried about Mary Heart. I too, am beside myself with worry.
I even went for a walk to bear my breasts in the moonlight and scream
and scream. That always relaxes me. But I still can't stop thinking about
her. I'll take my coffee with a pinch of cinnamon, Lucille, this
is not coffee. I am also worried, so I've been up all night
preparing for a divination. We can ask for a vision to ensure the dream
work, and then we can finally move on from all this. Chloe,
I'll need a lock of your hair, and Alma, just a pinch of
earwax. I was saving it. But fine. Let's see how mister Hart
is liking his new prison cell. Oh, poor mister Hart. Not too
many home cooked meals in prison. I wonder how else he'll pay for his
crimes. Well, all will be revealed after a few words from our sponsors.
Now back to the grave of midnight, Mary Chloe, would you like
to do the honors? And do we sing his name? Mister Hall,
Mister Hall, mister hor Right there he is vigorously pacing in my favorite pair
of trousers. Thee's the perfectly outline is murderous intentions, because he's a murderer
and I can do better. That's right. Where's Mary? Why isn't Heart
in jail? And where's the constable? Oh? That must be hidden?
Took him long enough. We gave him the message right after sundown. We
were perfectly clear. I want to hear what the men are saying. Well,
that's a first. Well, Heart, I am terribly sorry for your
loss. And how exactly did she die? Oh no, we're too late,
Stevens. Have a little respect. The man's in mourning. But do
tell us hard what were the circumstances of her passing? Well, right around
noon, she was about to renew her daily work, and out of the
blue, she fell prostrate and remained unconscious until midnight. And did you call
for the doctor? Of course he did, you did right well. No,
I thought she was just having one of her spells, you know,
something to do with her monthly troubles or her recent weight gain. But the
next thing I knew, she was gone. And you have no reason to
suspect any foul play. Of course he does. He killed her. Why
would I suspect any foul play because your otherwise robust and healthy wife seemed to
succumb to an illness previously unknown after several sources saw you covoting with a beautiful
young woman several towns over right, thank you? Do you still miss our
couboarding even enough? This is not one of your Ethan Allen Poe stories.
Sometimes women just die, Edgar, Sir. Her name was Mary Hart.
But I will admit I also have reason to suspect foul play. You two,
yes, go on, all right, I'll tell you, but don't
laugh. I had the craziest dream last night. A bunch of women,
I think it's appeared to me and told me that you were going to murder
your wife, murder my wife. What else happened in your dream? Were
you in your floating balloon machine? Was your pen pal Bell manning the wheel?
No, Stevens was? Oh? I know, I know it's ridiculous.
I'm terribly embarrassed, but I have to say Bell was in my dream
last night, and so was mother. Oh go on, no, no,
please, don't. I've seen enough. Vision be gone. I'm going
to make a Poppet, so I can hex mister Hart. No, po
They always come to life, and you always promise to take care of them,
but you never do. Besides, what we need to do is the
responsible thing. Some in our demon familiar have her murder everyone in town,
then burn it to the ground Obsidian. No, no, no more disappearing
towns. You remember Deadly Town and bear a Hack. We don't want to
repeat of that night, that terrible, terrible night. Besides, I have
a much better idea. Non you never let me do necromancy, and think
about it, We'll have a real living human witness to Marry Heart's murder.
Mary Hearts. Oh, it's not the worst idea, the girl. I'll
prepare the sacrifice, and I'll open a nice bottle of bread. There's an
open bottle of blood in the ice box, and let's have some wine too.
Oh I'm so excited. I love necromancy, and I am sure that
this time everything is going to go just fine and nothing terrible will happen at
all if you say so, Okay, sisters, take my hands and let
us light our hearth fire. Gaze into the flames, but not directly,
not like last time, and raise the soul of merry heart. By this
sacred passage, ancient and our cane, let the thread be unput warm the
flesh from the dark here awaking the soul the merry hot. Aren't we supposed
to see something in the flesh? These things take time. I can kind
of see something. Don't look directly at the fire. All I can see
is a big, pitch black nothing. Do you hear? That sounds like
something rustling? Dark Lord? What is that? It's coming from the fire?
Is that you? Are you alive? Oh? No, she is.
I thought that was a point. They must have buried her, and
now she's alive. I'll undo the spell Kilber quickly. I don't know how
you're necromancer, and you don't know the counter spell like killing seven things.
I never learned that screaming teeth that she'll be all right. No, Chloe,
the woman is buried alive. She's not going to be all right.
We have to do something. Don't you think we've helped enough so far?
We've inspired her husband to murder her, and then necromancer back to life under
the worst possible circumstances. I supposed to know she was buried already, she
died what ten hours ago. Oh well, we have to fly there right
now and dig her up. Absolutely not. How would we explain digging up
corpses in the moonlight? Should we just wear painted signs around our necks that
say hello, I'm a witch, Please hunt me? Oh? I know
who will give the constable another dream? I would like to see those pyramids
again. Can just watch them spring into action like he did when she was
murdered? No, no, we need someone who can get things done quickly.
So a woman? How about her aunt? Didn't mister Hart mention she
was a terrible shrew, and shrews get things done. Yes, I'll make
the salt ring. Hello? Where is she? This kitchen is filthy?
I didn't know dreams, but smell there she is by the sink. Who
does the dishes? In a dream? I do all the time time?
Hello? Are you marry Heart's aunt? We don't mean to frighten you,
or do we do? We say we're going to do a scary dream.
Oh, the poor dear. Her hands are covered in blood. There's so
much blood. I think this is a nightmare. Well, if it isn't,
it's about to be. Come on, sisters, glamours off heed this
message from the three. And in this hell we call to the James Hot,
to the men to bread Mary's heart still meetings, creamy blod Mary hot
your just say, Lucy, you'll wake up. How long were we asleep?
Not that long? Nightmares really sap my strength, Lucy, you'll get
up. I don't even remember how we got home. Do you think she
shared our message? Lucille, we should do a divination just to make sure.
Why isn't she waking up? Yes, we should, absolutely, Lucille.
Oh, oh doc Lord, not today, not like this, my
sister, my only wake Oh you scared me. Don't you ever do that
again. I'm sorry, DearS, I'm just so tired. Oh we all
are. When you put on the divination cauldron, can you make coffee too?
Of course, So we'll just take a quick look and make sure her
aunt got there in time. Right, Yes, we'll just get a quick
little vision of missus hart zhoomed alive. And I was going to say,
well, but I'm sure she's severely traumatized. Well, at least, let's
hope she's absund enough mind to speak out against her murderer. Chloe, will
you sing the name and we sing her name? Mary? Hummary hally Hall.
All right, fellas, let's get her on the table. Is this
a hospital? Oh no? Oh good lord? Would you look at her
fingernails. She must have had quite the night. She was alive all night.
Why didn't her aunt go to her? Did we do the scary poem
wrong? Well? I don't think it requires an advanced medical degree to determine
the cause of death. This woman was buried alive. But you know me,
I'm the best mortician in five counties. I know what a dead woman
looks like. And this woman was dead. Oh, Sims, don't take
it so hard. We've all made mistakes. Remember when I stated the cause
of death as childbirth and the woman wasn't even pregnant. Yes, it was
obesity. It's always obesity it is. Do you think the hysterical aunt had
something to do with it? Perhaps? Or maybe her dream was just to
call it womanly intuition? Ah, yes, that must be it, poor
missus Hart. Well, let's get her back in the ground. No,
no, she can't be dead. This isn't fair. VI should be gone.
Calm down, Mocille. We did everything we call it. Yes,
we absolutely destroyed this woman's life. Yes, and I feel terrible about it.
What are you, Jimmy? Where did I put my crim water?
No? Absolutely not, no more, Necromanta, do not tell me what
I can and cannot do with my own magic. Where is my spell book?
It's in your hand, sister. Oh so it is. And what
do you think you're going to do? Wake her up in her grave?
Again? Be quiet? I need to concentrate by this sacred passage, ancient
and arcane. Let the thread be uncut, warm the flesh from the dark,
reawaken the soul of very heart. Oh there's a soul. I see
it in the flames. Why won't go into the flesh? Maybe she doesn't
want to come back to life. And Lucille, step back from the fire.
What is happening? I can see her soul. It's right there.
It's almost as if she's looking directly. No, no, do not look
into the fire. Lucille, look away from the fire. An wait,
where am I are you? The women I saw in my grave of Mary
Heart. I don't think I'm supposed to be here. It's so strange.
Yes, you are inside of our sister, Lucille. We are witches.
Please be very careful with her. We love her. Very much, JULLI
she feels tired. I know the feeling, working from sun up to sundown,
tending to everyone, making sure the whole family is happy and healthy,
no time to rest. Oh, Lucille, well, she's never said anything
like that to us. No, Oh, were you so busy enjoying your
nice clam and folded laundry and sparkling dishes that you didn't hear her? Do
you know why my beloved aunt didn't wait to run to my aid. She
had gone to my home to take care of the household after my murder.
James expected her to work like I did. Wait by the end, make
his disgusting breakfast, tend to the chickens, milk the goats, cook clean,
all while maintaining a girlish figure and pretending to be a devoted, affectionate
wife. My aunt was exhausted. Even your weird little poem couldn't wake her,
and I died scraping my bloody fingers fell the lid of my pine box.
We swear on the life of this coven, if you please leave our
Lucille, we will restore you to life. No, I was finally at
peace. My work had come to an end at last I was able to
rest. Oh, oh my, so you wanted to be dead. I
agreed for the sweet kiss of death every hour every day. Then we will
return you beyond the veil. If you'll just step out of our Lucia,
you will return me. But I do not want to pass into the light.
I want my Then whatever you say, Mary will happily return you as
a ghost. You will be welcome to haunt Evergreen Cemetery for as long as
you like Evergreen Cemetery. I want to appear of a bore James in our
marital bed, shrinking his name as I wrapped my hands around his throat,
and watch the light pass from her stupidly lies. And we love where your
head is at. But unfortunately ghosts can't strangle men. Can you imagine who
would be left? And also you are tied to your final resting. I
have What will you give me to have your sister back? How about your
ghost? But we give you just a bit of magic. What if every
night, at midnight you have the power to assume corporeal form and do whatever
you please for ten seconds, three hours, one minute? Done? But
how will I get my husband to stand on my grave at midnight. I
believe I can help with that. Excellent. All right, off you go
one lasting yes anything, don't forget to thank Lucilla every once in a while.
Perhaps allow her to hang that chore wheel. All right, fine,
fine, go on back into the flames, and goodbye, Mary Hart.
We are very sorry about out everything. I've never been happier by b huh,
Well that was unpleasant. We are so sorry. We didn't mean to
be so ungrateful. You are the heart of this coven, Lucille. We
don't tell you that enough. It's all right, Come here, sisters,
We're all right now. It looks like Mary Heart is exactly where she wants
to be, and so am I. Should we send her a final blessing?
Yes, let's be well, Mary Heart, do no harm unless it's
midnight, and then do what you will good for her? Good behave.
And now our sweet siren Martina da Silva will sing Yankee Doodle, the state
song of Connecticut, and what is your second song? Idea? That is
the only song I have prepared. Really, I mean, that's kind of
killing the spooky vibe. I know it sounds corny, but I am going
to kill it. And I believe you, darling, but take a step
back. Trust me. I got this. Yankee Doodle went to town riding
on a pony, stuck a feather in his camping called it featherin. I
went down to camp along with Captain good Days. There we saw the men
and boys along thick as hasty pudding, yanky doodle, keep it up,
yanky doodle dandy, mind the music and the step, and with the gosbie
handy. That was Captain Washington wanted stopping stallions, giving orders to his men.
I guess there was a million, and the feathers on his hat they
looked so very fine. I wanted desperately to get to give to my Jamama.
Kinky doodle, keep it up, yanky doodle dandy mind the music and
the step, and with the gosbye handy, yankydoo dandy and and uh,
yanky doodle went to town bedding on a pony stuck a feather in his captain
called head back over on me. But and I went down to camp along
with Captain Goodie. Then we saw the man in body thing that's hasty pudding,
yanky doodle, keep it up, yankee doodle dandee, and the music
and this, I've been with the girl bey candy, yanky Doda, yanky
doodle, yankee dooda dandy yank do the dandy yanky doodle dandy. Well,
when you put it like that, I would call it macaroni. So who
here would be brave enough to set foot upon the cursed plot of Midnight Mary's
grave, perhaps after a stiff drink or three. Speaking of which, it's
time for a short intermission, I'll meet you at the bar. And that
was the Grave of Midnight Mary. The cast featured in this episode include Casey
Laforest as Lucille, Mary Murphy as Chloe, Alan Laforest as James Hart,
Eric Davey Gislissen as the Constable, Michael Pate as the Deputy, James Kleinman
as the mortician, James Reeser as the coroner, and the part of Alma
was played by me Ali Silva. The state song of Connecticut Yankee Doodle,
was performed by Martina d Silva accompanied by Nico Slater. The Grave of Midnight
Mary was written by Liz Leiser and Casey Laforest. Our live show and podcast
are produced by Gustavo Rodriguez and me for Fireside Mystery Productions. The live performance
of Nightfall on the Nutmeg State was supported by Verso Studios at the Westport Library
in Westport, Connecticut. Our musical score was performed by Nico Slater. Our
lead sound effects designer and engineer was Greg Rusth. Additional sound designed by Ricardo
Delgado and Ali Silva was directed by the team of Lizliser, Casey Laforest and
Ali Silva. Our Fabulous Fireside production coven includes Lizliser, Casey Laforest and Mary
Murphy. Jason Graves composed our theme music and I manage our audio post production.
Want to support us, become an FMT Patreon patron today by going to
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flickering. If you fancy, give us a rating and review, and you
can follow us on social media at Fireside Mystery. Next up, have you
ever dreamed of running away with the circus? How about running away from the
Circus? Stay tuned for Little Miss fifteen sixty five, based on the tragic
Hartford Circus fire of nineteen forty four. It was truly the hottest show and
town coming up next from Fireside Mystery Theater. So the next time you are
taking a gothic midnight stroll through a haunted cemetery, remember what horrors may manifest
if you fail to mind the shadows.