This episode may contain content that is not suitable for all audiences. Listener discretion
is advised, especially for those under the age of thirteen. Welcome to ind
to the night. I'm Nari your guide on to day's excursion down a twisted
path. Be careful not to get lost. Be it dark or light,
It's easy to lose your way. Are you ready, then let's begin.
It depends how you frame it. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows of
the art studio located on the second floor of a rambling farmhouse. Long ago,
urban sprawl crept around the home until now it was in the center of
a modern residential area. All other farmhouses were demolished or destroyed by fire or
neglect over the years, and now this house remained as the last vestige of
years past. It stood like a glimpse back into the time when most people
made their livings by farming. Cookie cutter suburban homes now surrounded the place.
Located at one five seven five Crittenton Avenue. Scarlet McDowell stopped hand in mid
air to admire the effect of the light coming through the window. The branches
on the tree outside bobbed and swayed in the breeze and combined with the sunlight
to produce a mosaic of dancing shadows on the canvas. Scarlet always delighted in
beautiful moments like this one. In a strange way, ever since she was
a child, Moments like this reminded her that anything was possible. I guess
that's why I've always been a dreamer. Scarlet smiled and went back to her
oil painting. She added a touch more blue, and then a splash of
red. This one's coming together nicely. Within a half an hour. She
was satisfied with her work, carefully inscribed one seven four two on the corner
under her signature, Now you need to dry and you'll be ready to frame.
In her younger years, she'd painted mainly landscapes. Capturing the nuances of
passing clouds or dandelion seeds blowing in the breeze helped her hone her artistic skills.
Creating images that evoked feelings in people became her passion. My mother called
it a gift. She cleaned her paint brush and thought about all the generations
of her family who made this house their home. Great grandmother told me stories
by the hour in her youth. She was a beauty and she had many
adventures with her sisters and three boy cousins. Nothing bad, just innocent child's
play by country kids. They didn't have the technology that cripple's imaginations in today's
generation, so they had to create their fun. Scarlet washed and dried her
hands, then looked back out the window. She saw past the tree waving
in the wind, and viewed row after row of suburban homes in her neighborhood.
Shaking her head, she let out a sigh. My grandparents would be
heartbroken to see what's happened to the farm. Piece by piece it sold to
developers. I wish I could make them all go away and have peace and
quiet around here again like it used to be. She watched as a moving
van pulled into the driveway of a nearby house. I bet the real estate
agent never said a word about the crime around here. There isn't a house
in this neighborhood that hasn't had something horrific happened. In the past few years.
Crime stories made the local news regularly, and Crittenton Avenue and surrounding streets
now had a dangerous reputation. Murders, suicides, hostage situations and other unseemly
acts plagued what used to be a family friendly neighborhood. You just never know
what's going to happen around here. Next, Scarlet's delicate fingers lightly touched her
throat as she watched a family unload belongings from the moving van. Fifteen seventy
eight, Crittenton was the scene of a greesome murder two months earlier. It's
a shame. They look like nice people. They don't have a clue with
this neighborhood is like, she sighed and looked around the studio. It's too
early to stop painting now. I feel like starting something, meaning her previous
project sat drying, but another easel held a blank canvass, inviting Scarlet to
pick up her brushes again. While the landscapes were once her passion, she
went through a phase of painting portraits. She dabbled in those until she grew
tired of them. Never a social person, being surrounded by the faces staring
at her from canvases unsettled Scarlet. Even in school, she dreaded giving presentations
in front of the class because she wasn't comfortable being the center of attention.
In fact, for a while, Scarlet lost interest in painting altogether when the
portrait came to a close to occupy herself. During that time, she discovered
podcasts, especially those dealing with true crime. Initially, she wasn't sure what
gave her this new fascination, but strangely, the storylines gave her inspiration at
a time when she'd lost her artistic news. She listened to the shows often
while she painted. One podcast host in particular was her favorite, Bailey,
irreverent and comical while telling listeners about gruesome crimes, created the mood Scarlet thrived
in while painting. These days. On her phone, she pulled up the
most recent episode of her favorite podcast and began listening. She set to work
and chose the colors to use, then walked to the easel. She situated
it so she could face the window and watch her new neighbors risk their lives
moving into an increasingly dangerous area. Dabbing her brush on the palette, she
put the first strokes onto the canvas. A rich brown color provided the perfect
background for what she had in. A smile crept across her face as the
painting grew more vibrant with every brushstroke, A shocking edition of Crimson highlighted the
scene she painted. Engrossed in her work, she barely noticed the podcast in
the background had ended and the next episode began. Lost in her thoughts,
the creative energy flowed onto the canvas. Finally, she exhaled a triumphant sigh.
As she finished the painting, she signed in the right hand corner and
carefully added one, five, seven eight. My work for today is almost
finished. I think I'll take a break, eat something, and come back
up here to frame both paintings. Standing back and admiring the day's accomplishments,
she smiled, you turned out so nicely. After a few hours, as
the sun hung low in the sky, Scarlet returned to the art studio and
framed the paintings. Once I hang you in my gallery, you will be
ready to come to life. Scarlet matted and framed the paintings, then carefully
carried the completed projects to the next room, which she used as gallery.
Right here you go, and you will go over here. The scenes she
painted were so lifelike they would have shocked an outsider. To Scarlet, they
were masterpieces that helped her achieve her goal. All I've ever wanted was for
this house to be alone once more, without neighbors constantly encroaching. One four
seven two and one five seven eight simply represented her most recent triumphs, one
portray of vicious and bloody murder suicide, and the other a Heina's crime by
the husband against his wife. In fifteen seventy eight, darkness fell and she
heard screams into the night coming from fifteen seventy eight and seventeen forty two.
She knew what she had to do. It was the same thing she'd done
when her paintings came true in the homes located at sixteen two, fourteen oh
eight, and eighteen seventy five, and all the other paintings that hung on
her wall as momentums of her handywook. She picked up her phone nine one
one, what's your emergency? Quick? I've heard screams coming from two homes
in my neighborhood. I'm afraid someone's been murdered. What's the address, ma'am?
Fifteen seventy eight Crittenton Avenue and seventeen forty two, also on Crittendon.
We will send emergency vehicles now. Thank you for calling. Stay inside and
do not leave your house. Scarlet hung up the phone and waited eagerly for
the whales of sirens. Maybe, just maybe I'll get rid of enough people
around here that no one will ever bother us again. She turned and looked
at the portrait of her great grandmother. I'm doing this for you, a
quiet smile formed on the lips of the wrinkled old woman in the painting.
Thank you for joining me for Into the Night an anthology series written by Caroline
Giamanco. Narration by Nari Quok, Theme music by Nico Rodriguez. All original
music, sound design and editing provided by Flyboy Entertainment. You can find our
links in the show notes. Please remember to like and subscribe, and if
you enjoy what you hear, please leave us a five star review to help
other excursionists to join us. You can find us on your favorite podcast directory.
See you next time, and remember, whether in the shadows or in
the daylight, all Twisted Paths take you into the night. Into the Night
is a creative typo entertainment production.