Speaker 1: Calaruga Shark Media. Welcome to Ghost Scary Stories and the
October Records, a month long Halloween Nightmare. This is episode
thirty one, Halloween.
Speaker 2: Night, October thirty first, nineteen seventy four, Silas Crane.
Speaker 3: If you're hearing this, then you've made the choice.
Speaker 2: You've refused to complete the pattern, and now now you
must speak the ending. But know this, Every story demands
a storyteller. Every ending requires someone to tell it forever.
That's the price. Someone must always be telling the story
to keep it from becoming again. Someone must always be
speaking the better ending. Are you prepared for that? Margaret?
Are you prepared to become the eternal narrator?
Speaker 4: Halloween Midnight, the moment when all stories converge. I stood
in the fountain, water to my waist, but it wasn't
water anymore. It was liquid time, all October's flowing together real.
Margaret stood at the edge, holding my hand, keeping me
anchored to twenty twenty five. Around us, Millbrook was dissolving,
not into horror, into nothing. The entity, starved of its ending,
was consuming everything in rage.
Speaker 3: If I cannot take this to you, not nothing will exist.
I'll take it out into the void every every every stone,
every memory.
Speaker 4: Buildings were becoming sketches, people fading to outlines. The world
was being unwritten. But I had a story to tell.
On Halloween night, when the pattern should have completed, something
extraordinary happened. The people of Millbrook remembered they were more
than their fears. As I spoke, the fading people solidified slightly.
They turned toward my voice. The Davidson family, who thought
they were trapped in their walls, realized the walls were
just walls. The nurses who believed they were dead, discovered
they were still breathing. The children with impossible hungers found
they were just children, scared and lost.
Speaker 3: Stotop stotop, you're making.
Speaker 4: Me because there was no entity there never was, just
the fear of something in the dark, a fear that
grew so strong it seemed real. But fears dissolve in
the light of better stories. With each word, I felt
myself spreading, not dissolving, expanding. My voice was becoming the air,
my thoughts becoming the streets. I was becoming Millbrook itself.
What's happening to you? I'm becoming what I always was.
The story, but not the horror story. The real story,
the one where people live and love and sometimes get scared,
but always survive until morning. The entity made one last attempt.
It reached through reality itself, a hand made of absence.
Grab for my throat.
Speaker 3: I I it in turmal place to tweet play places.
I I am.
Speaker 4: You are the ending of a story that doesn't get
told anymore. The entity froze, cracked, and then, like a
record played too many times, it simply wore out, wore thin,
wore through until there was nothing left but the ghost
of a scratch. The fountain cleared, the water became water,
The town became a town. But I was everywhere now,
in every brick, every breath, every word spoken in Millbrook.
You did it. You saved everyone. But you're I'm the
story now, the story Millbrook tells itself to keep the
darkness away. Every time someone in this town tells the
ghost story, I'll be there to make sure it ends well.
Every time a child has a nightmare, I'll be the
voice that whispers it's just a dream. Every October, when
the records want to play themselves, I'll be the one
who keeps them silent. So you're trapped here forever, not
trapped chosen. This is what heroes do in stories. They
become the shield between the darkness and the light. They
become the guardians real. Margaret was crying now for her
imaginary friend who became too real for the part of
herself she was losing. Will I remember you every time
you tell a story, every time you read a book,
every time you choose hope over fear, You'll remember me?
Because I'm not gone. I'm just distributed. I'm the voice
of every librarian whoever said, let me tell you a story.
I'm every happy ending. I'm every one upon a time
that ends with happily. Ever after the clock struck twelve
oh one November one, Halloween was over. The records in
the library turned to dust, blew away, became nothing except
for one, a new record, blank waiting Real. Margaret picked
it up. The label read the October Records a Ghost
Story by Margaret Blackwood. Play only if the pattern returns.
And if it does return, then someone plays the record
and they hear my voice telling them the story of
the October when darkness came to Millbrook, and how a
librarian who wasn't real became real enough to save everyone,
And they'll know what to do, they'll know to tell
a better story. Real Margaret walked out of the library
into the November morning. Behind her, the buildings settled with
a sound like a sigh, or perhaps like someone turning
a page. The town was quiet, peaceful, normal. But if
you listened carefully, if you knew how to listen, you
could hear it. A voice in the wind, in the
rustle of leaves, in the space between words, my voice
telling the story, always telling the story, keeping the darkness
at bay with words. Because that's what librarians do. We
guard the stories, We protect the readers. We stand between
the darkness and the light, holding a book like a shield, saying,
once upon a time there was a town called Millbrook,
and everyone lived happily ever after. And as long as
I keep saying it, as long as I keep telling
that story, it stays true forever and ever the end.
Speaker 1: Good job, pretend, friend, you became the best story of.
Speaker 4: The kind that saves people.
Speaker 1: Ghost Scary Stories is a production of Caloroga Shark Media.
Some elements of AI may have been used in this production,
but it was written, edited, mixed, and produced by Real
Live People Executive producers Mark Francis and John McDermott s