All Episodes

May 30, 2025 โ€ข 33 mins
Step into the shadowy corridors of Gothic horror with this dramatic reading of Berenice by Edgar Allan Poe. A chilling tale of obsession, decay, and madness, Berenice stands as one of Poeโ€™s most disturbing works. In this episode, we bring the story to life through a vivid narration that captures the eerie atmosphere and tragic descent of its narrator.

Whether youโ€™re a longtime fan of Poe or just discovering his twisted brilliance, this reading is sure to haunt your imagination.

๐Ÿ”ช Featuring themes of:
  • Mental illness
  • Morbid obsession
  • Death and decay
  • Classic 19th-century horror
๐Ÿ“š Perfect for fans of Gothic fiction, dark literature, and psychological horror.
Listen now and explore the terrifying beauty of Poeโ€™s prose!

๐ŸŽ‰ Unlock exclusive bonus episodes and support the show on Patreon!
๐Ÿ‘‰ WeeklySpooky.com/Join

๐Ÿ“ฌ Contact Us / Submit Your Horror Story!

๐ŸŽต Music by Ray Mattis ๐Ÿ‘‰ Check out Rayโ€™s incredible work here !
๐Ÿ‘จโ€๐Ÿ’ผ Executive Producers: Rob Fields, Mark Shields, Bobbletopia.com
๐ŸŽฅ Produced by: Daniel Wilder
๐ŸŒ Explore more terrifying tales at: WeeklySpooky.com
Mark as Played
Transcript

Episode Transcript

Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:01):
One of my favorite memories of scaring myself as a
child was getting a compilation book of Edgar Allan Poe's
stories from my elementary school library. It brought me so
much fear and so much excitement. I remember running home

(00:24):
from school with that book in my backpack as the
sky was dark and a storm was coming. I was
in my childhood living room, but I wasn't alone. I
had a pizza and the books of Poe. Every so

(00:46):
often I'll bring you a tale of Poe, and I
hope it gives you that scary fun sense, just the
same as it does for me. When the clock strikes midnight,
the story will begin. Berenice by Edgar Allan Poe. Dis

(01:48):
bond me. He's so Dallas si spectaculum amikai visitarum curras
MIAs aluquantulum for eh levatas aben zaiat. Misery is manifold.

(02:09):
The wretchedness of Earth is multiform, overreaching the wide horizon
as the rainbow. Its hues are various as the hues
of that arch, as distinct too, yet as intimately blended,
overreaching the wide horizon as the rainbow. How is it

(02:33):
that from beauty I have derived a type of unloveliness,
from the covenant of peace, a simile of sorrow. But
as in ethics, evil is a consequence of good, so
in fact out of joy is sorrow born. Either the

(02:56):
memory of past bliss is the anguish of to day,
or the agonies which are have their origin in the
ecstasies which might have been My baptismal name is Eegeus.
That of my family I will not mention. Yet there

(03:18):
are no towers in the land more time honored than
my gloomy, gray hereditary halls. Our line has been called
a race of visionaries, and in many striking particulars in
the character of the family mansion, in the frescoes of

(03:38):
the chief saloon, in the tapestries of the dormitories, in
the chiseling of some buttresses in the armory, but more
especially in the gallery of antique paintings, in the fashion
of the library chamber, and lastly, in the very peculiar

(04:01):
nature of the library's contents. There is more than sufficient
evidence to warrant the belief the recollections of my earliest
years are connected with that chamber and with its volumes,
of which latter I will say no more here died

(04:25):
my mother. Herein was I born. But it is mere
idleness to say that I had not lived before, that
the soul has no previous existence. You deny it. Let
us not argue the matter. Convinced myself, I seek not

(04:49):
to convince. There is, however, a remembrance of aerial forms,
of spiritual and meaning, eyes, of sounds musical yet sad,
A remembrance which will not be excluded, a memory like
a shadow, vague, variable, indefinite, unsteady, and like a shadow

(05:15):
too in the impossibility of my getting rid of it,
while the sunlight of my reason shall exist in that chamber.
Was I born? Thus, awaking from the long night of
what seemed but was not nonentity, at once into the

(05:36):
very regions of fairyland, into a palace of imagination, into
the wild dominions of monastic thought and iradation. It is
not singular that I gazed around me with a startled
and ardent eye, that I loitered away my boyhood in

(05:57):
books and dissipated my youth in reverie. But it is
singular that, as years rolled away and the noon of
manhood found me still in the mansion of my father's.
It is wonderful what stagnation there fell upon the springs

(06:18):
of my life. Wonderful how total and inversion took place
in the character of my commonest thought. The realities of
the world affected me as visions, and as visions only,
while the wild ideas of the land of dreams became

(06:38):
in turn not the material of my every day existence,
but in very deed that existence utterly and solely in itself.
Bearonice and I were cousins, and we grew up together
in my paternal halls. Y differently we grew I ill

(07:04):
of health and buried in gloom. She agile, graceful, and
overflowing with energy. Hers the ramble on the hillside, mine
the studies of the cloister. I living within my own heart,

(07:24):
and addicted body and soul to the most intense and
painful meditation. She roaming carelessly through life, with no thought
of the shadows in her path or the silent flight
of the raven winged hours. Berenice. I call upon her, Berenice,

(07:50):
and from the gray ruins of memory, a thousand tumultuous
recollections are startled at the sound ah. Vividly is her
image before me, now as in the early days of
her light heartedness and joy, Oh gorgeous yet fantastic beauty,

(08:15):
oh sylph amid the shrubberies of Arnheim, oh n did
among its fountains. And then then all is mystery and terror,
and a tale which should not be told. Disease, a

(08:37):
fatal disease, fell like the simoom upon her frame. And
even while I gazed upon her, the spirit of change
swept over her, pervading her mind, her habits, and her character,
and in a manner the most subtle and terrible, disturbing

(09:03):
even the identity of her person Alas the destroyer came
and went, and the victim where was she? I knew
her not, or knew her no longer as Berenice. Among
the numerous train of maladies superinduced by that fatal and

(09:28):
primary one which affected a revolution of so horrible a
kind in the moral and physical being of my cousin,
may be mentioned as the most distressing and obstinate in
its nature, a species of epilepsy, not unfrequently terminating in

(09:49):
trance itself, trance very nearly resembling positive disillusion, and from
which her manner of recovery was in mo most instances
startlingly abrupt in the meantime my own disease, for I

(10:09):
have been told that I should call it by no
other appellation. My own disease then grew rapidly upon me
and assumed finally a monomaniac character of a novel and
extraordinary form, hourly and momently gaining vigor, and at length

(10:32):
obtaining over me the most incomprehensible ascendancy. This monomania, if
I must so term it, consisted in a morbid irritability
of those properties of the mind in metaphysical science termed
the attentive. It is more than just probable that I

(10:56):
am not understood, but I fear indeed that it is
in no manner possible to convey to the mind of
the merely general reader an adequate idea of that nervous
intensity of interest with which, in my case the powers
of meditation, not to speak, technically busied and buried themselves

(11:23):
in the contemplation of even the most ordinary objects of
the universe, to muse for long, unwearied hours with my
attention riveted to some frivolous device on the margin or
in the topography of a book, to become absorbed for

(11:43):
the better part of a summer's day in a quaint shadow,
falling aslant upon the tapestry or upon the door, To
lose myself for an entire night, in watching the steady
flame of a lamp or the embers of a fire,
To dream away whole days over the perfume of a flower,

(12:07):
To repeat monotonously some common word until the sound, by
dint of frequent repetition, ceased to convey any idea whatever
to the mind. To lose all sense of motion or
physical existence by means of absolute bodily quiescence, long and

(12:30):
obstinately persevered in Such were a few of the most
common and least pernicious vagaries induced by a condition of
the mental faculties, not indeed altogether unparalleled, but certainly bidding
defiance to anything like analysis or explanation. Yet, let me

(12:56):
not be misapprehended. The un do earnest and morbid attention
thus excited by objects in their own nature frivolous, must
not be confounded in character with that ruminating propensity common
to all mankind, and more especially indulged in by persons

(13:19):
of ardent imagination. It was not even as might be
at first supposed an extreme condition or exaggeration of such propensity,
but primarily and essentially distinct and different. In the one instance,
the dreamer or enthusiast, being interested by an object, usually

(13:44):
not frivolous, imperceptibly loses sight of this object in a
wilderness of deductions and suggestions, issuing therefrom until at the
conclusion of a day dream, all replete with luxury, he
finds the incedimentum, or first cause of his musings entirely

(14:08):
vanished and forgotten. In my case, the primary object was
invariably frivolous, although assuming through the medium of my distempered vision,
a refracted and unreal importance, few deductions, if any, were made,

(14:29):
and those few pertinaciously returning in upon the original object
as a center. The meditations were never pleasurable, and at
the termination of the reverie, the first cause, so far
from being out of sight, had attained that supernaturally exaggerated

(14:51):
interest which was the prevailing feature of the disease. In
a word, the powers of mind more particularly exercised, were
with me, as I have said before, the attentive and
r with the day dreamer, the speculative. My books at

(15:15):
this epoch, if they did not actually serve to irritate
the disorder partook, it will be perceived largely in their
imaginative and inconsequential nature of the characteristic qualities of the
disorder itself. I well remember, among others, the treatise of

(15:38):
the noble Italian Colius Secundus Curio de amplitudine b te
Regi d. Saint Austin's great work The City of God,
the Tertullian de Carne Criste, in which the paradoxical sentence

(15:59):
more to U S. S. D. Philus kredible estkia ineptum
est et sypultus resurrects it sertem eskia impossibility est occupied
my undivided time for many weeks of laborious and fruitless investigation.

(16:25):
Thus it will appear that, shaken from its balance only
by trivial things, my reason bore resemblance to that ocean
crag spoken by Teloami hefeshin which, steadily resisting the attacks
of human violence and the fiercer fury of the waters

(16:45):
and the winds, trembled only to the touch of the
flower called asvadl, and although to a careless thinker, it
might appear a matter beyond doubt that the altar toration
produced by her unhappy malady in the moral condition of
Berenice would afford me many objects for the exercise of

(17:10):
that intense and abnormal meditation whose nature I have been
at some trouble in explaining. Yet such was not in
any degree the case. In the lucid intervals of my infirmity.
Her calamity indeed gave me pain, and taking deeply to

(17:32):
heart that total wreck of her fair and gentle life,
I did not fall to ponder frequently and bitterly upon
the wonder working means by which so strange a revolution
had been so suddenly brought to pass. But these reflections

(17:53):
partook not of the idiosyncrasy of my disease, and were
such as would have occurred under similar circumstances to the
ordinary mass of mankind, true to its own character. My
disorder reveled in the less important, but more startling changes

(18:15):
wrought in the physical frame of Berenice, in the singular
and most appalling distortion of her personal identity during the
brightest days of her unparalleled beauty. Most surely I had
never loved her in the strange anomaly of my existence.

(18:39):
Feelings with me had never been of the heart, and
my passions always were of the mind. Through the gray
of the early morning, among the trellised shadows of the
forest at noonday, and in the silence of my library
at night, she had flitted by my eyes, and I

(19:04):
had seen her not as the living and breathing Berenice,
but as the baronice of a dream. Not as a
being of the earth earthy, but not as the abstraction
of such a being. Not as a thing to admire

(19:26):
but to analyze, not as an object of love, but
as the theme of the more abstruse although desultory speculation.
And now now I shuddered in her presence, and grew
pale at her approach. Yet bitterly lamenting her fallen and

(19:52):
desolate condition, I called to mind that she had loved
me long, and in in an evil moment, I spoke
to her of marriage, and at length the period of
our nuptials was approaching. When upon an afternoon in the

(20:13):
winter of the year, one of those unseasonably warm, calm
and misty days which are the nurse of the beautiful
halcyon one, I sat and sat as I thought, alone
in the inner apartment of the library, But uplifting my eyes,

(20:38):
I saw that Berenice stood before me. Was it my
own excited imagination or the misty influence of the atmosphere,
or the uncertain twilight of the chamber, or the gray
draperies which fell around her figure that caused in it

(21:02):
so vacillating and indistinct an outline I could not tell.
She spoke no word, I not for words could I
have uttered a syllable. An icy chill ran through my frame,
A sense of insufferable anxiety oppressed me, A consuming curiosity

(21:28):
pervaded my soul, and, sinking back upon the chair, I
remained for some time, breathless and motionless, with my eyes
riveted upon her person alas its emaciation was excessive, and

(21:51):
not one vestige of the former being lurked in any
single line of the contour. My burning glances at length
fell upon the face. The forehead was high and very
pale and singularly placid, and the once jetty hair fell

(22:17):
partially over it and overshadowed. The hollow temples with innumerable
ringlets now of vivid yellow and jarring discordantly in their
fantastic character with the raining melancholy of the countenance. The

(22:39):
eyes were lifeless and lustreless, and seemingly pupilless, and I
shrank involuntarily from their glassy stare to the contemplation of
the thin and shrunken lips. They parted it, and in
a smile of peculiar meath, the teeth of the changed

(23:03):
Berenice disclosed themselves slowly to my view. Would to God
that I had never beheld them, or that having done so,
I had died, For as Jove during the winter season
gives twice seven days of warmth, men have called this

(23:26):
clement and temperate time the nurse of the beautiful Halcion Simonides.
The shutting of a door disturbed me, and looking up,
I found that my cousin had departed from the chamber,
but from the disordered chamber of my brain had not

(23:51):
alas departed, and would not be driven away the white
and ghastly spectrum of the teeth, not a speck on
their surface, not a shade on their enamel, not an
indenture in their edges. But what that period of her

(24:11):
smile had sufficed to brand in upon my memory? I
saw them now even more unequivocally than I beheld them.
Then the teeth, the teeth, they were here and there
and everywhere, and visibly and palpably before me, long, narrow

(24:33):
and excessively white, with the pale lips writhing about them,
as in the very moment of their first terrible development.
Then came the full fury of my monomania, and I
struggled in vain against its strange and irresistible influence in

(24:56):
the multiplied objects of the external world world, I had
no thoughts but for the teeth. For these I longed
with a frenzied desire. All other matters and all different
interests became absorbed in their single contemplation. They, they alone,

(25:17):
were present to the mental eye, and they, in their
soul individuality, became the essence of my mental life. I
held them in every light, I turned them in every attitude.
I surveyed their characteristics. I dwelt upon their peculiarities. I

(25:38):
pondered upon their confirmation. I mused upon the alteration in
their nature. I shuddered as I assigned to them in
imagination a sensitive and sentient power, and, even when unassisted
by the lips, a capability of moral expression of mad

(26:00):
Sali salis. It had been well said Ktu sa pa
etuiene des sentiments, and of Berenice I more seriously believed
Caetus say tense etteninte de idis de IDs ah. Here

(26:22):
was the idiotic thought that destroyed me death idees ah.
Therefore it was that I coveted them so madly. I
felt that their possession could alone ever restore me to peace,
in giving me back to reason. And the evening closed

(26:43):
in upon me. Thus, and then the darkness came and
tarried and went, and the day again dawned, and the
mists of a second night were now gathering around. And
still I sat motionless in that solitary room, and still

(27:05):
I sat buried in meditation, And still the phantasma of
the teeth maintained its terrible ascendancy, as with the most vivid,
hideous distinctness. It floated about amid the changing lights and
shadows of the chamber. At length there broke in upon

(27:25):
my dreams a cry as of horror and dismay. And thereunto,
after a pause, succeeded the sound of troubled voices, intermingled
with many low moanings of sorrow or of pain. I
arose from my seat, and, throwing open one of the

(27:48):
doors of the library, saw standing out in the antechamber
a servant maiden, all in tears, who told me that
Berenice was no more. She had been seized with epilepsy
in the early morning, and now at the closing in

(28:12):
of the night, the grave was ready for its tenant,
and all the preparations for the burial were completed. I
found myself sitting in the library, and again, sitting there alone,
it seemed that I had newly awakened from a confused

(28:34):
and exciting dream. I knew that it was now midnight,
and I was well aware that since the setting of
the sun Berenice had been interred. But of that dreary
period which intervened, I had no positive, at least no

(28:57):
definitive comprehension. Its memory was replete with horror, horror more
horrible from being vague, and terror more terrible from ambiguity.
It was a fearful page in the record, my existence,

(29:18):
written all over with dim and hideous and unintelligible recollections.
I strived to decipher them, but in vain while ever
and anon like the spirit of a departed sound the
shrill and piercing shriek of a female voice seemed to

(29:43):
be ringing in my ears. I had done a deed.
What was it? I asked myself the question aloud, and
the whispering echoes of the chamber answered me, what was it?
On the table beside me burned a lamp, and near

(30:07):
it lay a little box. It was of no remarkable character,
and I had seen it frequently before, for it was
the property of the family physician. But how came it
there upon my table? And why did I shudder in
regarding it? These things were in no manner to be

(30:31):
accounted for. And my eyes at length dropped to the
open pages of a book and to a sentence. Underscored
therein the words were the singular but simple ones of
the poet eben zayat di sebont mihi sodales si sepulchurum

(30:52):
I machai visitarum curras MIAs ali quantulum fori levatas. Why then,
as I perused them, did the hairs of my head
erect themselves on end, and the blood of my body
become congealed within my veins. There came a light tap

(31:17):
at the library door, and pale as the tenant of
a tomb a menial entered upon tiptoe. His looks were
wild with terror, and he spoke to me in a
voice tremulous, husky, and very low. What said he? Some

(31:38):
broken sentences I heard. He told of a wild cry,
disturbing the silence of the night, of the gathering together
of the household, of a search in the direction of
the sound. And then his tones grew thrillingly distinct, as
he whispered to me of a violated grave, of a

(32:03):
disfigured body, and shrouded, yet still breathing, still palpitating, still alive.
He pointed to garments. They were muddy and clotted with gore.
I spoke not, and he took me gently by the hand.
It was indented with the impress of human nails. He

(32:27):
directed my attention to some object against the wall. I
looked at it for some minutes. It was a spade
with a shriek. I bounded to the table and grasped
the box that lay upon it, but I could not
force it open, and in my tremor, it slipped from

(32:49):
my hands and fell heavily and burst into pieces. And
from it with a rattling sound. There rolled out some
instruments of dental surgery, intermingled with thirty two small, white

(33:11):
and ivory looking substances that were scattered to and fro
about the floor
Advertise With Us

Popular Podcasts

Stuff You Should Know
My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark

My Favorite Murder with Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark

My Favorite Murder is a true crime comedy podcast hosted by Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark. Each week, Karen and Georgia share compelling true crimes and hometown stories from friends and listeners. Since MFM launched in January of 2016, Karen and Georgia have shared their lifelong interest in true crime and have covered stories of infamous serial killers like the Night Stalker, mysterious cold cases, captivating cults, incredible survivor stories and important events from history like the Tulsa race massacre of 1921. My Favorite Murder is part of the Exactly Right podcast network that provides a platform for bold, creative voices to bring to life provocative, entertaining and relatable stories for audiences everywhere. The Exactly Right roster of podcasts covers a variety of topics including historic true crime, comedic interviews and news, science, pop culture and more. Podcasts on the network include Buried Bones with Kate Winkler Dawson and Paul Holes, That's Messed Up: An SVU Podcast, This Podcast Will Kill You, Bananas and more.

The Joe Rogan Experience

The Joe Rogan Experience

The official podcast of comedian Joe Rogan.

Music, radio and podcasts, all free. Listen online or download the iHeart App.

Connect

ยฉ 2025 iHeartMedia, Inc.