WEBVTT

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<v Speaker 1>Welcome to Endo the night. I'm Narri your guide on

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<v Speaker 1>today's excursion down a twisted path. Be careful not to

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<v Speaker 1>get lost, be it dark or light, It's easy to

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<v Speaker 1>lose your way. Are you ready, then let's begin a

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<v Speaker 1>loss for words. She stared out the window of her

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<v Speaker 1>second story writing nook, watching the leaves flutter and twist

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<v Speaker 1>in the breeze. Lately, Ellerly Langston caught herself reminiscing about

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<v Speaker 1>days past and the winding path she'd taken to where

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<v Speaker 1>she was today. Her third grade teacher sparked Ellery's desire

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<v Speaker 1>to become an author. The assignment had been simple. Class today,

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<v Speaker 1>we're going to use our imaginations. Get out your pencils

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<v Speaker 1>and notebooks. We're going to write stories about a far

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<v Speaker 1>off land. You can make it be whatever you'd like

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<v Speaker 1>it to be. We'll work on our stories over the

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<v Speaker 1>next hour or so, and the best ones I will

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<v Speaker 1>display in the hallway for everyone to enjoy. Amanda Beardsley

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<v Speaker 1>near the end of her tenth year of teaching third

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<v Speaker 1>grade at Joseph B. Wellington Elementary, she realized most students

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<v Speaker 1>would turn in bland stories that poorly mimicked the tales

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<v Speaker 1>they'd read in the literature book. She'd taught this lesson

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<v Speaker 1>long enough to know what usually came from it. However,

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<v Speaker 1>every once in a while a child surprised her. Ellerie

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<v Speaker 1>Langston exceeded all expectations. Ellerie, can I speak with you

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<v Speaker 1>for a moment. The children lined up at the door,

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<v Speaker 1>waiting for the bell to ring that signaled recess's arrival.

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<v Speaker 1>Ellery stared wide eyed at her teacher and nodded. Her

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<v Speaker 1>bottom lip trembled slightly, and the little girl fought back

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<v Speaker 1>the urged cry or throw up. She feared she'd lose

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<v Speaker 1>the battle to both. Slowly, she walked towards Missus Beardsley's desk.

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<v Speaker 1>Seeing the girl's apprehension, Amanda softly spoke to her and

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<v Speaker 1>patted the seat next to her desk. Ellerie, you're not

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<v Speaker 1>in trouble, honey. Come have a seat by me. Only

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<v Speaker 1>somewhat reassured, Ellery made her way to the front of

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<v Speaker 1>the room and sat next to Missus Beardsley. Her teacher

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<v Speaker 1>had no clue. She was the closest the girl had

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<v Speaker 1>to a mother in this world, and Ellerie would rather

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<v Speaker 1>die than disappoint this woman. She so admired, Ellery, you

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<v Speaker 1>aren't in trouble. I want to talk with you about

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<v Speaker 1>your story. The little girl's knees nervously bobbed up and down.

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<v Speaker 1>L your story is amazing. Relief swept across her face.

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<v Speaker 1>Tears welled once more, but this time as a release

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<v Speaker 1>of the anxiety that ebbed away. Really, Yes, has a

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<v Speaker 1>When anyone ever told you that you're a gifted storyteller?

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<v Speaker 2>No, ma'am.

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<v Speaker 1>My daddy doesn't like it when I tell stories. He says,

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<v Speaker 1>I'm telling lies. Missus Beardsley did her best to disguise

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<v Speaker 1>the shock and disgust she felt it. Bryce Langston, how

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<v Speaker 1>dare he say something like that to his sweet girl, Ellerie?

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<v Speaker 1>These aren't lies. This story shows so much imagination. When

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<v Speaker 1>I read it, I felt like I was actually there.

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<v Speaker 1>Don't tell the other children, I said this, but between

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<v Speaker 1>you and me, none of their stories came close to yours. Honey,

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<v Speaker 1>you have a real talent, and I want you to

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<v Speaker 1>continue writing. My dad hates it when I write stories.

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<v Speaker 1>I don't want to get in trouble. How about we

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<v Speaker 1>keep this just to ourselves. Then, I want you to

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<v Speaker 1>keep writing, and I want to keep reading your stories.

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<v Speaker 1>Can we do that? Up and down? Yes, Missus Beardsley,

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<v Speaker 1>just please don't tell Daddy. I promise I won't. This

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<v Speaker 1>is our secret. But someday I believe people all over

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<v Speaker 1>are going to be able to read and enjoy your writing.

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<v Speaker 1>I really believe you have a future as a writer.

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<v Speaker 1>The quiet little girl smiled. No one had ever noticed

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<v Speaker 1>her in a positive way before, and while happy, she

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<v Speaker 1>felt unsure about her newfound praise. Missus Beardsley gave her

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<v Speaker 1>hand a squeeze. I'm happy to read your stories anytime

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<v Speaker 1>you want to write them. I'm proud of you. Now

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<v Speaker 1>go on outside and play. As she watched the trees

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<v Speaker 1>through her window, Ellerie sighed, that was a long time ago.

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<v Speaker 1>I wish Missus Beardsley could have seen my writing success.

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<v Speaker 1>I'd love to be able to let her know what

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<v Speaker 1>her confidence in me did here. I am a well known,

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<v Speaker 1>my own author, with a few best sellers to my name.

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<v Speaker 1>I owe it all to her. Missus Beardsley kept her

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<v Speaker 1>word to her young student. She read everything the girl

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<v Speaker 1>brought her, and she offered encouraging critiques to help her

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<v Speaker 1>reach her full potential. When Ellery was a freshman in

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<v Speaker 1>high school, however, that all changed. A tragic car accident

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<v Speaker 1>out of state claimed the life of her mentor. It

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<v Speaker 1>was a loss she'd grieve for all the years to come.

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<v Speaker 1>In honor of Missus Beardsley, however, Ellery became determined to

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<v Speaker 1>hone her skills and someday be the writer deserving of

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<v Speaker 1>her teacher's praise. You saved me in more ways than one,

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<v Speaker 1>Missus Beardsley. Your love and support helped me survive the

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<v Speaker 1>hellish home life I was stuck in. If it wasn't

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<v Speaker 1>for you, I may not even be here. I wish

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<v Speaker 1>i'd been old enough, had the perspective enough to let

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<v Speaker 1>you know that when you were still alive. She thought

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<v Speaker 1>back to those people who tormented her, both at home

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<v Speaker 1>and at school. Her father's abuse was untenable, and his

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<v Speaker 1>behavior scarred Ellery for life. She wanted to believe that

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<v Speaker 1>her mother, had she lived, would have protected her. When

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<v Speaker 1>Ellery was only four years old, However, her mother died

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<v Speaker 1>of a sudden aneurysm. By the time the paramedics arrived,

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<v Speaker 1>it was too late. A tear was ripped through Ellerie's

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<v Speaker 1>life from that moment on. Scared and vulnerable, she was

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<v Speaker 1>an easy target for an already unstable man, Bryce Langston

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<v Speaker 1>took his hatred of the world out on his daughter,

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<v Speaker 1>and no one noticed. At least no one did anything

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<v Speaker 1>about it. Plenty heard and saw the abuse she endured,

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<v Speaker 1>but they were content to put blinders on and ignore

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<v Speaker 1>her torment. Before Missus Beardsley entered her life, Ellery felt invisible. Unfortunately,

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<v Speaker 1>at school she was all too visible for the bullies

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<v Speaker 1>who seemed everywhere. They made fun of her clothes, her

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<v Speaker 1>red hair and freckles, and her toes that stuck out

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<v Speaker 1>from holes in her sneakers. At moments like that, she

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<v Speaker 1>wished she was invisible and disappear. How sad is it

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<v Speaker 1>that a five year old no longer wanted to exist?

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<v Speaker 1>When I cried, they tormented me even more. The pain

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<v Speaker 1>felt as strong today as it did all those years ago.

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<v Speaker 1>Her chest tightened, and she felt her heart pound a

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<v Speaker 1>little harder. Children can be so vicious. They don't get

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<v Speaker 1>any better as they age either. Once word leaked out

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<v Speaker 1>in junior high and high school that Ellery fancied herself

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<v Speaker 1>a writer, her tormentors gained another feather in the quiver

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<v Speaker 1>of taunts. Being brazenly intelligent as a girl made her

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<v Speaker 1>immediately a target for the popular kids who favored conformity

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<v Speaker 1>over self expression. Now that they knew she wrote stories,

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<v Speaker 1>there was no end to the mocking comments they made.

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<v Speaker 1>Missus Beardsley remained her safe haven. She met after school

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<v Speaker 1>with her beloved teacher, where she shared her hopes, fears,

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<v Speaker 1>and writing. You saved me when no one else would.

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<v Speaker 1>My writing career will always be in honor of you.

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<v Speaker 1>When I was a shy, sad girl, you gave me

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<v Speaker 1>perspective and hope. Ignore them, Ell, you are a gifted,

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<v Speaker 1>wonderful girl, and I doubt any of them are someone

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<v Speaker 1>you'd want to spend ten minutes with. Ellery heard the

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<v Speaker 1>words write down to her heart and soul. No one

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<v Speaker 1>influenced her more than Missus Beardsley, A woman who didn't

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<v Speaker 1>have to take her under her wing, but she did

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<v Speaker 1>love like hers would never be taken for granted by Ellery.

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<v Speaker 1>Her high school years, marred by her classmate's abuse and ostracism,

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<v Speaker 1>became nearly unbearable. After Amanda Beardsley's death, Ellery lost all

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<v Speaker 1>interest in writing. I lost my words. My heart was

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<v Speaker 1>too broken to put any writing on a page. I

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<v Speaker 1>imploded and withdrew even further into myself. I even considered suicide.

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<v Speaker 1>Tears formed in her eyes, and she noticed the sun

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<v Speaker 1>sank deeper into an early afternoon horizon. At peace once

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<v Speaker 1>again with her place in the universe, Ellery looked at

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<v Speaker 1>her laptop, where her next manuscript remained barely begun. This

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<v Speaker 1>one is special. She reached into her desk drawer and

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<v Speaker 1>pulled out a precious note written years ago by her

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<v Speaker 1>mentor at an especially difficult time in the early days

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<v Speaker 1>of her freshman year, mere weeks before missus Beardsley's death,

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<v Speaker 1>her confidante and biggest supporter wrote her a note that

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<v Speaker 1>carried her through the dark times when she lost her

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<v Speaker 1>will to write. Gingerly, unfolding the paper, Ellery re read

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<v Speaker 1>the words written in the clean cursive writing of Amanda Beardsley. Ellie,

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<v Speaker 1>now let anyone take your words. You have a powerful

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<v Speaker 1>boss and get accomplished anything in Imason. As far as

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<v Speaker 1>the people who see Arty Town, always remember that a

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<v Speaker 1>life express revenge is made in those who have hurt

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<v Speaker 1>them characters in our sorious nus. ELLERI held the note

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<v Speaker 1>to her chest and took a soothing, deep breath. She

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<v Speaker 1>sat at her desk, note in clear sight, and began typing.

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<v Speaker 1>A smile crept into the corners of her mouth. Yes,

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<v Speaker 1>this book is special. Welcome to My revenge. With each

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<v Speaker 1>piece of dialogue, her wretched characters spoke, their real life

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<v Speaker 1>counterparts experienced a distressing problem. Her character's words flowed swiftly

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<v Speaker 1>and abundantly, but with each keystroke, their namesakes lost their

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<v Speaker 1>own ability to speak. By the time she finished this

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<v Speaker 1>poignantly appealing book, another bestseller, no doubt her tormentors would

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<v Speaker 1>be truly at a loss for words. Ellery smiled and

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<v Speaker 1>typed gleefully Late Into the Night. Thank you for joining

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<v Speaker 1>me for this episode of the Into the Night Anthology podcast.

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<v Speaker 1>Written by Caroline Giamanco, narrated by Nari Quak. Theme music

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<v Speaker 1>by Nico Rodriguez, all other original music, sound design and

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<v Speaker 1>editing by Omenhawk Studios. You can find our links in

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<v Speaker 1>the show notes. Into the Night is on your favorite podcatcher,

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<v Speaker 1>So make sure to like, subscribe and leave a five

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<v Speaker 1>star review to help other excursionists to join us. You

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<v Speaker 1>next time, and remember, whether in the shadows or in

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<v Speaker 1>the daylight, all twisted paths lead you into the night.

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<v Speaker 1>Into the Night Anthology is a creative typo entertainment production

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<v Speaker 1>high excursionists. It's October my favorite time of the year.

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<v Speaker 1>With spooky season upon us, I wanted to tell you

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<v Speaker 1>a little about our Halloween special. Usually we have some

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<v Speaker 1>kind of spooky story, but this year we are doing

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<v Speaker 1>something different. I have a new project that will be

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<v Speaker 1>coming in twenty twenty five that will have a sneak

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<v Speaker 1>preview on October thirty first. This will be a collaboration

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<v Speaker 1>between my personal production studio, Sadie Works and my friends

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<v Speaker 1>at Omenhawk Studios. A compelling world of research, old gods.

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<v Speaker 2>And humans, just one power and what chaos that may bring. Hello.

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<v Speaker 2>My name is t A Caliber and I am the

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<v Speaker 2>creator of a new series of cosmic har stories entitled

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<v Speaker 2>The Crown of Nails. I'll be working with Nai to

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<v Speaker 2>bring you a new world of horror, one we think

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<v Speaker 2>you'll enjoy very well. We hope you enjoy the first

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<v Speaker 2>venture into this new twisted path called Magashana, the story

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<v Speaker 2>of researchers trapped in an ancient tomb with a supernatural

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<v Speaker 2>threat from the cradle of civilization. Join us on October

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<v Speaker 2>thirty first for a tale you won't soon forget.