Speaker 1: Calaroga Shark Media. Hello, and welcome to ghost Scary Stories.
This episode is titled Spirits of the Speakeasy, a New
York Ghost Story, Part three, The Price of Silence.
Speaker 2: The musty air of the Broken Bottle's basement enveloped Eddie
Hernandez as he stood at the foot of the stairs,
his flashlight beam cutting through the darkness. The whisper of
Sophia's plea still echoed in his ears, spurring him forward
into the unknown. As Eddie moved deeper into the basement,
the beam of his flashlight caught something he hadn't noticed before,
a thin seam in the wall, almost invisible unless you
knew where to look. His heart racing, Eddie ran his
fingers along the seam until he felt a slight give.
With a deep breath, he pushed the walls swung inward
with a low groan, revealing a hidden room beyond dust.
Motes danced in the beam of Eddie's flashlight as he
stepped inside, his eyes widening at what he saw. The
room was small, barely larger than a closet, but every
inch of wall space was covered with photographs, newspaper clippings,
and handwritten notes. At the center stood a small desk,
its surface littered with faded papers and an ancient typewriter.
What is this place, Eddie muttered, his voice barely above
a whisper, as if in response, a chill ran through
the room. Eddie's flashlight flickered, and for a moment he
could have sworn he saw a figure standing in the corner,
a man in an expensive nineteen twenty suit, his face
twisted in a sneer, But as quickly as it appeared,
the figure vanished. Eddie turned his attention to the desk,
his hands shaking slightly as he picked up the topmost paper.
It was a letter, the ink faded but still legible,
My dearest Sophia. I fear our time is running short.
Blackwood suspects and his reach is long. We must act
quickly if we are to expose his crimes and free
ourselves from his grasp. Meet me tonight after your performance.
Together we will bring an end to this nightmare forever yours, Daniel.
Eddie's mind raced Daniel. This was a name he hadn't
come across in his research, and what crimes was he
referring to? What had Thomas Blackwood done that was so terrible.
As Eddie continued to sift through the papers, a story
began to emerge. Daniel Sullivan had been a journalist working
to expose the corruption and criminal activities that plagued New
York during Prohibition. His investigation had led him to the
Broken Bottle and Thomas Blackwood, but Daniel had not anticipated
falling in love with the beautiful singer at the center
of it all, Sophia Bellamy. Through Daniel's notes and letters,
Eddie pieced together the truth. Blackwood's speakeasy had been affront
for a much larger criminal enterprise, one that reached into
the highest levels of New York society. Politicians, judges, police captains.
All were in Blackwood's pocket, paid off with money earned
through bootlegging, gambling, and worse. Sophia had discovered the truth, and,
together with Daniel, had planned to expose it all, but
Blackwood had found out. Eddie's hands trembled as he read
the final entry in Daniel's journal. Sophia is gone, vanished
without a trace. Blackwood claims she ran off with another man.
But I know the truth. I can see it in
his eyes, in the smug satisfaction of a predator who's
devoured his prey. I will not rest until I uncover
what he's done, until I bring him to justice for Sophia,
for all those he's hurt, no matter the cost. The
journal ended there. Eddie's research had never turned up any
mention of Daniel Sullivan or his investigation. It was as
if the journalist had disappeared as completely as Sophia herself.
A soft sound behind him made Eddie whirl around. There
in the doorway stood Sophia's ghost. Her eyes were filled
with a mixture of sorrow and urgency as she pointed
to something on the desk. Eddie turned back, his gaze
falling on an old photograph he hadn't noticed before. It
showed Sophia and a man he assumed was Daniel, standing
in front of the broken bottle. They were smiling, happy,
unaware of the tragedy that awaited them. But it wasn't
Sofia or Daniel that caught Eddie's attention. It was the
man in the background, partially obscured but still recognizable, a
man Eddie knew all time too well. Abuelo, Eddie whispered,
his voice filled with disbelief. The ghost of Sophia nodded slowly,
a sad smile on her translucent face, and suddenly Eddie
understood his grandfather, who had always been tight lipped about
his youth in New York, who had steered Eddie away
from asking too many questions about the past. He had
been there, he had known Sophia and Daniel. As the
realization washed over him, the room began to spin, the
walls seemed to melt away, and Eddie found himself transported
once again to the past. He was in the broken
bottle of the nineteen twenties, the speakeasy, alive with music
and laughter, but this time he saw it through different eyes.
He saw Sofia on stage, her voice captivating the crowd.
He saw Daniel at a corner table, scribbling notes while
pretending to enjoy his drink. And there behind the bar
was his gadfather, Younger but unmistakable. Eddie watched as his
grandfather slipped a folded note to Daniel, his movements quick
and furtive. He saw the look that passed between them,
a mix of determination and fear. The scene shifted. Now
Eddie was in the alley behind the bar. Sofia and
Daniel were there, talking in hushed, urgent tones, and watching
from the shadows was his grandfather standing guard. Another shift,
and Eddie saw Blackwood confronting Sofia in his office, his
face contorted with rage. You think you can betray me,
Blackwood snarled, You'll regret this, you and that meddling journalist.
Both the visions came faster, now, a dizzying whirlwind of images,
Eddie's grandfather helping Sofia escape through a hidden passage, Daniel
confronting Blackwood only to be overpowered by the gangster's thugs,
Sofia returning to save Daniel walking into a trap, and finally,
the most horrifying vision of all, Sophia's lifeless body being
hidden away, her killer's face obscured in shadow. With a gasp,
Eddie found himself back in the hidden room, drenched in
sweat and trembling. Sophia's ghost was gone, but her presence lingered,
along with a bone deep certainty of what he had
to do next. The truth of what happened to Sophia
and Daniel had been buried for nearly a century, protected
by a web of lies, threats, and silence, but that
silence had come at a terrible price, not just for
Sophia and Daniel, but for everyone who had been forced
to carry the burden of this secret, including Eddie now
realized his own family. As he climbed the stairs back
to the bar, Eddie's mind raced with questions. How much
did his grandfather know, why had he never spoken of
his connection to the broken bottle, and most importantly, who
had actually killed Sophia. The bar was quiet as Eddie
emerged from the basement, but he could feel eyes upon him,
not just Sophia's ghostly gaze, but the weight of all
those who had been silenced over the years. He knew
that by digging into this past he was putting himself
in danger. Whoever had killed Sophia might still be out there,
or their descendants willing to kill again to keep the
truth hidden. But as Eddie looked at Sophia's photograph on
the wall, he knew he couldn't stop now. He owed
it to Sophia, to Daniel, to his grandfather, and to
all those who had suffered under the weight of this
secret to uncover the truth. I'll make this right, Eddie promised,
his voice barely above a whisper. No matter what it
takes as if in response, the lights in the bar
flickered and a cold breeze ruffled Eddy's hair. The spirits
of the Broken Bottle were restless, and the past was
closing in. Eddie Hernandez stood at the precipice of a
truth that had claimed lives and shattered families. Little did
he know the most dangerous part of his journey was
yet to come, for in seeking justice for the dead,
he had drawn the attention of those among the living
who would do anything to keep the past buried. The
stage was set for a final confrontation where the sins
of the past would collide with the present, and Eddie
would be forced to confront not just the ghosts that
haunted the Broken Bottle, but the darkness that lurked in
his own family's history.
Speaker 1: 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.
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Speaker 1: Calaroga Shark Media