December 7, 2025 • 30 mins
Matthew confesses the calendar's dark pattern to Pastor Hart and learns that the ashen specter of his late brother Steven has been appearing to others, spreading his buried secrets throughout Marshport—and when door number seven crosses an unforgivable line, he makes an irreversible decision that may be more dangerous than the calendar itself.
Get the print version of the novel: https://weirddarkness.com/AdventOfEvil
#WeirdDarkness #ChristmasHorror #HolidayHorror #SupernaturalThriller #HauntedCalendar #DarkChristmas #HorrorStory #DemonicEvil #CreepyTales #YuletideTerror
Get the print version of the novel: https://weirddarkness.com/AdventOfEvil
#WeirdDarkness #ChristmasHorror #HolidayHorror #SupernaturalThriller #HauntedCalendar #DarkChristmas #HorrorStory #DemonicEvil #CreepyTales #YuletideTerror
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:03):
Officer Matthew Klein's peaceful life in Marshport, Maine, shattered on
December first, when he arrested his best friend's son, Zach,
for a bizarre attack at a local cafe, and a
mysterious advent calendar appeared on his doorstep No. Sender, twenty
four doors and a carved bearded face with hollow eyes.
(00:23):
The calendar's trinkets began revealing a deadly pattern. A miniature
house burst into flames, identical to Matthew's childhood home that
burned thirty years ago. A red feather preceded a cardinal
caused car crash involving Pastor Hart. A crystal star foretold
city planner Bridget Carr's death beneath the town's Christmas tree,
the giant star ornament embedded in her skull. Some trinkets
(00:46):
exposed Matthew's buried secrets, while others predicted violence in Marshport.
Each won a clue each day, bringing new horror. When
Matthew tried opening a door early, a shadowy child, smelling
of smoke and ash, warning him follow the rules or
the consequences will be dire. The figure spoke with his
(01:08):
dead brother's voice whispering the same words Stephen had spoken
before that fire, Uncle David, can you hear us? The
fourth door revealed a police mugshot of Uncle David, the
demon of Bayville, a serial killer who removed his victim's eyes.
Matthew finally confessed his deepest secret. He wasn't Matthew Kleine
(01:30):
at all, but Matthew Norris, sole survivor of a Christmas
Eve fire that killed his family. When he and Stephen
used a spirit board to contact their dead uncle and
unleashed something demonic instead, the shadowy Enforcer was Stephen's charred spirit,
bound to the Calender's vengeful countdown. Matthew confessed everything to
(01:51):
his wife, Anika. Behind the fifth door was a bloody cross,
and convinced Pastor Heart was in danger, they raced to
the hospital, only to find him I'm perfectly safe. The
Calendar had deceived them with a false target. On December sixth,
Matthew discovered a mysterious snake shaped z carved into the
calendar's back, and his seven year old son Mason began
(02:12):
knowing impossible things that the calendar had killed someone. Sensing
the burning smell that haunted his father, Matthew the entity
had infiltrated their family. Behind Door six was a miniature lion.
When pink haired barista Gwen Martin didn't show up for work,
her worried father asked Matthew to check on her. Matthew
found her dead in her apartment, the bloody cross buried
(02:35):
in her chest, murdered the day before. While he chased
the wrong lead, a lion masked attacker came at him
with a crowbar. It was Zach Welch, again, controlled like
a puppet. Dead. Behind the eyes, seven doors opened, seventeen remain,
and the countdown to Christmas Eve continues. Welcome Weirdos. I'm
(03:36):
Darren Marler, and this is Weird Darkness's Advent of Evil,
a holiday horror novel written by Scott Donnelly based on
a concept from Darren Marler. Twenty four Doors, twenty four days,
twenty four secrets waiting in the darkness, just like an
advent calendar counting down the Christmas We'll unlock one chapter
(03:57):
each day, but what we find behind these doors may
not be the gift you're expecting. You can find all
available chapters, as well as the print version, in paperback, hardback,
or Kindle at Weird Darkness dot com slash Advent of Evil.
The calendar is waiting. Let's see what awaits us behind
today's door. Sunday, December seventh, I stood in the doorway,
(04:28):
looking at myself in the full length mirror that hung
on the outside of our bedroom door. I could see myself.
I could see the suit and tie I was wearing
for church. I could see soft skin on my face
where I had just shaved off my weak old scruff.
I could see my eyes red from the fatigue of
another sleapless night. What I couldn't see was a physical
(04:51):
manifestation of the headache, pounding against the inside of my
skull like a little angry man with a jackhammer. I
couldn't see a somatic form of the mortification I felt
after watching Zach Welch unmasked for a second time. This instance, however,
with a far and more consequential impact. It wasn't like
it was on Monday. It wasn't just an attack that
(05:13):
was cut short by me showing up with my badge
and gun. This time he actually committed a cold blooded murder.
Gwen Martin was pronounced dead at the scene. A medical
examiner put her time of death somewhere between six and
seven the night before. On the fifth, the same day,
I opened the advent calendar door. It was small, metal,
(05:35):
blood dipped cross. It wasn't a coincidence that Gwen was
found with a metal cross buried deep in the center
of her chest. Theme determined to struggle had taken place
before she was forced onto her bed by Zack, where
he ultimately killed her with one formidable stab. When I
watched Zack stagger out of the house like a dazed
(05:56):
and confused zombie, I remember feeling like I'd and tricked deceived.
Zak had admitted earlier in the week that a stranger,
a child much younger than he, told him to attack
Karl in order to send a message. He seemed remorseful.
His father, Simon, was ashamed. I hadn't heard from either
(06:18):
of them since my lunch was Simon the following day
any text, and I shot his way when unanswered, and Zach,
from what I understood, had been suspended by the school
and placed under temporary house arrest. Apathetically, I adjusted my
tie and blinked laboriously, feeling my eyes burned and almost
stick to the fleshy interiors of their lids. When they
(06:40):
snapped back open, I saw Annika standing beside me in
the mirror. She wore a short sleeved, pink sheathed dress
with an elegant bow tied around her waist. Her hair
rolled down over her shoulders, and I could smell the
shampoo she had used, something with melon in it. I
looked at her face in the reflection, noticing the map
and lipstick she wore. Even without those superficial applications, she
(07:05):
was the most beautiful person I'd ever met in my life.
I turned and faced her away from the mirror, and
our eyes met. Hers weren't red, but they did display
a hefty amount of sympathy and understanding for everything that
had transpired. You look really nice, she said, straight faced. Thanks,
I replied. I inhaled through my nose and let it
(07:28):
back out slowly. Annaka put a hand on my arm
and pulled me close, wrapping me in a hug that
felt like the coziest winter blanket ever made. I closed
my eyes again, fighting the hurt and tears that I
felt could very easily be triggered at any moment. Once
the hug was over, Annaka pulled away. You don't have
(07:48):
to come today if you don't want to, she said.
I shook my head. Now I'm coming after this week.
I need to be surrounded by a little piece. Anna
finally smiled. Plus, it'll be Pastor Hart's first sermon since
his accident, at least that's what Ruby was hoping. Well,
we can't miss that, then, can we. Annaka gave me
(08:10):
one more tight squeeze and then looked herself up and
down in the mirror. Does this look okay? It looks great?
You look great, I said. I watched her smile again,
admiring herself in the mirror. I wondered if the choice
of a pink dress was a subconscious tribute to Gwen
and her matching hair. Can you help me make sure
(08:30):
the kids are ready, Annika asked. Of course. I sprayed
myself with a little cologne and made my way to
Logan's room. First. The door was wide open, and he
was sitting on the edge of his bed, dressed for church,
with his arms crossed and head down. Oh what's wrong, buddy,
I asked, stepping into his room. Logan didn't look up.
(08:50):
He just kept his head down and his arms tightened
abound his body. Harder, like a snake constricting its prey. Logan, Oh,
what's wrong, I asked again, putting a hand on a
should beson. He mumbled, what about Mason, he's lying about
what about everything? Logan exploded, releasing the constricting grip his arms,
(09:11):
hat around his body and snapping his head up at me.
He said, I ruined his stuffed bare but I didn't.
I don't like it when people tell lies about me. Okay, okay,
I said, let me talk to him and we'll get
it all figured out. I started to leave the room,
but stopped at the doorway. You didn't, though, right, but
just for context, no, Logan growled. I moved down the
(09:34):
hall to Mason's room. The door was shut and locked.
I knocked twice sternly. Mason over the door. Now, his
little voice said, from the other side, open it now,
you know we don't allow locked doors in the house.
After a moment, the lock clicked and the door opened.
Mason stood there, still in his pajamas and holding a
(09:55):
handful of wool stuffing. What's going on, I asked, lo
he killed my bear? He said coldly, I'm not going
to church. I looked into the room behind him, and
saw more wool stuffing scattered all over the floor, and
then the shredded, discarded remains of the Teddy Bear bunched
up in the corner. He looked like a ger rated
crime scene. Logan said, he didn't do it, I explained
(10:19):
to him, and you said he did. Someone's lying. Mason
didn't respond. He just turned his hand over and let
the wool stuffing follow to the floor. His house is
full of liars, he said, in a low, stoic voice.
Just get dressed, Mason, were leaving in five minutes, I said,
and then walked back down the hallway. His door slammed
(10:42):
shut behind me enough to rattle a picture for him
on the wall. Aside from Christmas music playing over the
car radio, the ride to church was quiet. The boys
wouldn't even look at each other. In the back seat,
Anaka watched Marshport glide by out the passenger window and
couldn't stop thinking about Zach Welch. I'd known Simon for
(11:03):
twenty years, which meant I knew Zach his entire life,
and from knowing someone that long you can get a
really good idea of the kind of person they are.
So to say, I was shocked by what he had done.
Would be the understatement of the century. I wondered about
the small child he saw, the one who stunk of
smoke and allegedly encouraged the attack. I wondered if the
(11:26):
same child told him to go after Gwen as well.
Why the Martins? What had they done to deserve any
of this? The child that stunked of smoke was another
piece of the puzzle that I couldn't figure out. I'd
also been seeing a childlike figure, one that was shrouded
in darkness and caked with ashes, one that I believed
(11:47):
to be Stephen. Zach never mentioned anything about the child's
appearance seeming off that I was aware of. Otherwise I
could have officially made the connection between the two. That
wasn't to say they weren't the same child, that they
both weren't Stephen. But I just couldn't figure out, for
the life of me, why Stephen would show up as
(12:08):
an apparition to Zach. It didn't make sense. When we
arrived at church, the four of us walked in and
took our seats in one of the middle pews. We
were right on time. As Pastor Hart stood on the
pulpit with several pages of material in his hands. He
looked healthier than ever, which was a relief after seeing
(12:30):
him in his post crash condition several days ago. The
entire church hushed to silence as Pastor Hart cleared his
throat and adjusted the glasses on his face. He looked
down at one of the sheets of paper before him,
and then up at his congregation. This week was a
tragic one from Marshport, Pastor Hart spoke, his voice echoing
throughout the knave. Even I was not left unharmed. So
(12:54):
I'd like to begin our sermon today with a moment
of silent remembrance for two of Marshport's very Richard Aline
car and Gwen Clear Martin both lost their lives this
week in different yet equally tragic ways, and neither of
them will ever be forgotten. Pastor Hart lowered his head
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and closed his eyes, as did every single person in
the church. The silence was overwhelming, thick with mourning and grief.
I tried my best to hold back a burning tear.
When Pastor Heart cleared his throat again, bringing the peaceful
moment to a close, I lifted my head and watched
the sea of other parishioners do the same in a
hypnotic display that I likened to the wave at a
(13:37):
sporting event. Pastor Hart continued, Ridgard's family wanted me to
disclose that her wake will be held at nine am
Tuesday at Tides in the funeral home. A private burial
will follow for the family. Pastor Hart jumped right into
his sermon, and just like all we see, seamlessly delivered it.
Like the expert he was, even making someone like me
(14:00):
feel a fleeting sense of comfort and harmony. Once the
concluding prayer was said and Pastor Hart reminded everyone once
more about Bridget's wake, the collective of churchgoers dispersed, many
of them finding their own small pockets of quiet conversation.
Annaka met up with Jasmine and Ruby Hart near the lobby.
Logan and Mason remained at her side, still angry with
(14:22):
one another because of the unsolved Teddy Bear disembellment. I
lingered in the aisle, looking up at the swirling designs
and the cathedral ceiling, admiring all the work that must
have gone into designing and building it. I wasn't a
church guy, but that didn't mean I couldn't appreciate certain
aspects of being in one. Aside from the beautiful architecture,
(14:43):
the feeling of acceptance and comfort was nice. May with you,
an old voice spoke behind me. I turned around and
saw Pastor Hart standing there with an obliged smile on
his face. Pastor Hart, I said, reaching out and shaking
his hand. Please just Rustle said, waving his hands around.
I'm so happy you're here today. I never got to
(15:04):
thank you in person for being by my side after
the accident. I am forever grateful for you. I was
just doing my job, Russell, I said. He then studied
my face closely, focusing on my eyes in particular. Are
you all right, Matthew, I nodded. Russell tilted his head
and sperked out of the corner of his mouth. I
(15:25):
could tell he didn't believe me in the slightest. Would
you like to talk privately, I adjusted, uncomfortably. I don't know.
I think we're about to leave. He turned around and
watched Annika, Jasmine and Ruby talk and laugh with one another.
Then he faced me again with the same crooked smirk.
I think you have time. I followed Russell to his study.
(15:48):
The room was dignified with heavy oak finished furniture, soft carpet,
and devout images displayed on the walls. He sat beside
his large desk and I took a seat in one
of the two chairs across from him. He appeared relaxed
and ready to listen to anything I had to say.
I felt a great unease when I watched you and
your family walk into the church earlier, Russell said. I nodded, well,
(16:12):
the boys aren't speaking to one another this morning. He
nodded with a smile that let me know that he knew.
I tried to glaze over his initial assumptions. Something else
is bothering you, Matthew, I can tell please talk to me.
This is a private sanctuary. Anything you tell me won't
be repeated. You have my word. I couldn't believe that
(16:33):
he'd actually got to me. On the tip of my
tongue were narratives of a malevolent inanimate object sitting in
my home, next to our fireplace, that I was absolutely
sure had come into my life to cause chaos and disorder.
I turned in my seat to make sure the door
to his study was closed, and when I confirmed that
it was, I faced Russell again. Do you believe in
(16:57):
evil things, I asked him, with a hint of him harassment.
He nodded, I believe in good, therefore I believe in evil.
There can't be one without the other. He sat back
in his seat and interlocked his fingers over his knees.
Good can be expressed, practiced, and learned. Evil well, sometimes
(17:17):
evil can't be explained. It just is. That's why there
has to be good to combat it, to arrival it.
Something needs to keep the evil in line, to keep
the balance. He'll let me sit with his words for
a moment. As I analyzed them in my head, I
realized I needed to be more specific with him, more upfront.
(17:38):
On Monday, we received a gift in our house from
someone I don't know who. It was an antique advent
calendar made of wood with really precise engravings on it.
The boys tried to open the doors but couldn't. Annik
I tried also, she couldn't. The calendar will only allow
me to open it. I saw Russell's face wrinkle at
(18:02):
that little odd fact. I continued ever since that first day,
every time I open a new door on the calendar,
what comes out of it is their threats warnings, predictions,
echoes of something horrible from my past. Russell sat forward
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and placed his hands on his desk. His face looked intense.
Someone left his advent calendar and filled it with things
either from your past or threats to you. I shook
my head. No, not just me. Everything, everything strange that's
happened in Marshport over the past week, has in some
way correlated with what I've pulled out of the calendar.
(18:45):
I pulled a feather on the same day you were
in a car accident caused by a bird. I pulled
a star trinket. The same day Bridget was killed by
the falling tree top star. I pulled a bloody cross
the day Gwen was murdered with a cross. Russell was
deeply invested in my words. His eyes focused strictly on mine,
(19:06):
his bottom lip had a slight quiver, and the other
days he hesitantly asked a small lion toy. Yesterday, when
I was attacked by Zach Welch wearing a lion mask,
a miniature model that resembled my child at home, which
burst into flames just like the real one. In a
mugshot of my blood uncle, who was a serial killer.
(19:30):
He swallowed hard, audibly even and sat back in his chair.
He took in everything that I said. Well, what do
you make of all of this? I asked him? This
advent calendar certainly seems to be surrounded by negative spiritual energy,
he said, his eyes wandering around aimlessly as he tried
to comprehend my allegations. Then he looked me in the face.
(19:52):
Whoever sent it to you must know a great deal
about your past, A sibling or parent. Perhaps my head
slightly no, I said, they're all dead. But I stopped
myself from going any further from divulging the fact that
I've been seeing a shadowy childlike figure in my house
that I was certain of being my dead brother. I
(20:14):
closed my eyes and could hear his horse s mangled words,
Uncle David, can you hear us? With my eyes still closed,
I could hear the roar of the fire, the screams
from my parents and Stephen. As I ran through the
cold night for help. I saw myself standing helplessly, selfishly
inside the neighbor's house as wilbur Ward ran like a
(20:36):
hero toward the house, but stopped dead in his tracks
right before the inferno. Matthew Russell's voice shook me out
of the haunting void my mind had fallen into. I
opened my eyes with a gasp, and I knew he
was looking at me now with even more confusion and worry.
What was in the calendar today? I shook my head.
(20:57):
I haven't opened it yet, don't He sternly suggested, Just
don't open it. I had already thought about not opening
it once, but something in the pit of my stomach
kept telling me that if I didn't, I wouldn't be
playing by the rules. Another thing, the shadowy entity, had threatened.
(21:17):
I stood up from my seat and Russell slowly followed
my lead. I have to go, I said to him.
Thank you so much for letting me talk anytime, he said,
still very concerned. As I was leaving the study, he
called out, if you need to talk again before next Sunday,
you know where to find me. I nodded in appreciation
(21:37):
and left the room, making sure the door closed behind me.
By the time we were home, the kids were hungry,
and their shared hunger somehow broke the bad blood between them.
They begged for hot dogs and chips, so Anika and
I went to work fixing an early lunch once there
was food in their bellies, they ran off to play
(21:57):
video games together. I gathered the wool stuffing in bear
carcass from Mason's room and laid it out on the
kitchen counter for Anaka to see. So what do you think,
I asked. I think he'll be able to dust off
your old sewing skills and pull out Doctor Frankenstein style restoration.
Annaka's eyes widened upon seeing the grizzly stuffed bear remains. WHOA,
(22:20):
she said, that's a little more hardcore than I was picturing.
She picked it up and examined it before accepting the challenge. Yeah,
I think it's possible, good, I said, pulling out my
phone to see if I had missed a text from
Simon anything, Annika asked, Now, I said, slipping the phone
back into my pocket. Think you should drive over there
(22:42):
to check on him. I didn't want to invade Simon's
personal space after what his son had done, but without
a single response from him, Anakin might have had the
right idea. You don't mind if I run over there,
she smiled. Of course, not go check on your friend.
I'll get come, get a Hallmark movie on TV, and
start bringing this bear back to life. I kissed, Anika,
(23:07):
you are the best, I said, I'll be back as
soon as I can. I grabbed my coat from the
rack and my keys from the basket, and then left
for Simon's. Simon lifted an older split level house near
the edge of Marshport, not far from where Bridgeton. I
stood on the side of the road awaiting the flatbed
truck to haul the tree into town. This road hadn't
(23:28):
been plowed, so my car struggled through the snow until
I was finally able to bring it to a stop
right in front of his mailbox. It was Sunday, so
I wasn't worried about sending him into a work related
rant about things that annoyed him on a day to
day basis. However, for a mail carrier was such a
long career. His box sat crooked, with its door hanging
from only one of its hinges. I shut the engine
(23:50):
off and looked at Simon's house. From where I sat,
it looked desolate. The curtains were all drawn, the Christmas
lights he had strung were all turned off, and his
car sat in the driveway with a fresh dusting of
snow upon it. I walked through his yard, creating the
first set of footprints in the fresh dusting, and knocked
on his door. As I waited, I listened to the
(24:12):
winter wind howling through the pine forest that skulked behind
his house. As I prepared to knock again, the front
door cracked open and I saw a sliver of my
friend Simon. I said, relieved that he was okay. I
don't want to talk about it. Simon grumbled, sounding drowsy
or sick. I'm not on duty, I'm here as a friend.
(24:33):
Simon closed his eyes and shook his head. Matthew, I
can't Tom, sorry, please, I begged, I've been worried about you.
Can we talk just for a minute. Simon remained silent,
but stared daggers into me. I wasn't sure if that
was him reiterating his desire to not speak, or if
he was allowing me in opening to say my peace.
(24:55):
I decided to take my chances. Did you talk to him?
I asked. I could see the hesitation on Simon's face
in the end. However, he nodded, ever so slightly for
a minute. What did he say? Simon started to clam up,
so I had to remind him. I was there was
a friend and not with the police. Did he say
(25:16):
why he did it? Why Gwen? Why Carl? He he
said the same thing. Simon languidly told me. He said
some kid told him to do it, to send a message,
to reveal secrets. Secrets. That was a new detail this kid.
I began. Did he give a name? Simon was delayed
(25:39):
again with his response, but when it came it was crucial.
Zach said the boy's name was Stephen. He said that
I was waiting on pins and needles for Simon to
finish his sentence. He said that what I encouraged him?
He said that you were keeping secrets big ones me.
(26:02):
Simon nodded, Are you do you know something? Simon grew
loud and angry. Do you know why this little boy
has twisted my son's mind into some kind of canvas
for such callous, brutal things. I took a step back. No,
I said, I don't just go, Matthew, Simon shouted, until
you're ready to spill your secrets and tell me why
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this happened to my son. Just leave us alone. The
door slammed shut, and I was left standing there on
the front steps, shaken by what had just transpired. My assumption,
my fear was right, though, that little boy was Stephen,
or at least some sort of spectral version of him.
(26:43):
Whether it be an apparition or a hallucination. I wasn't
sure Zach had seen Stephen as his former self, an
innocent seven year old boy. I was seeing him as
a shadowy phantom, with flexs of ash breaking away from
his body and embers burning within his murky form. I
walked back to my car, thinking about some of the
last words Simon said to me, until you're ready to
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spill your secrets being what stuck out the most, guilt
and regret began to ravage my body and mind again.
The sick feeling in my stomach strangled the memories back
to the surface. The fire, the screams, My cowardly selfishness.
It was all my fault. When I got home, I
(27:31):
walked in to see Annika sitting by the fireplace, dressed
down in sweatpants and a sweatshirt and beginning to stitch
the stuffed bear back together. She looked up at me
and must have immediately noticed my front appearance. The welcoming
smile that began to form on her face was quickly
replaced with a troubled frown. What's wrong, she asked, setting
her sewing project aside. I didn't answer. My eyes wandered
(27:55):
from her to the Advent calendar, the source of all
of the resurfaced anguish I was feeling, as well as
the nightmare of all marshboard had been thrust into. Without
saying a word to Anaika, I walked straight to the
advent calendar and opened door number seven. What I pulled
out I looked at for barely a second before tossing
it aside. It gently glided to the floor, where it
(28:17):
rested in front of the fireplace. That's the last one
I'm opening, I said, impassively. I picked up the calendar
and carried it toward the front door. Wait. Annika jumped
to her feet. What are you doing. I'm getting rid
of this thing. I don't want it in the house.
I'm done with it, I aggressively huffed, and then left
the house. I chucked the calendar into the back of
my car and drove down the street to Gull's Rest,
(28:39):
a remote section of the coastline heavily guarded by pine
trees and rocks. Gulls Rest was barren, icy, and the
waters were glacial cold. I carried the calendar down to
where the waves were rolling over the coarse sand. I
held it up in front of me, staring at the
engraved bearded man in his empty, featureless eyes. I scowled
at him, still unsure of who he was are, what
(29:01):
significance he held in all of this, if any. I
ran my fingers around the car of DGEs and peered
into the empty space where door number seven dangled open
on its small metal hinges. By now I was sure
Anika had seen its latest offering. Laying on the floor
by the fireplace, a photo of Logan and Mason. Things
(29:22):
from my past, things from around town. They were all
one thing, even as negatively as they had affected me
and others. But when my family becomes a pawn in
this sick, dark game that I didn't understand, that's the
line that I would not allow to be crossed. My
family was precious and off limits. With as much strength
(29:44):
as I could conjure, I threw the Advent calendar into
the ocean and watched the slushy waves roll over it,
seize it within their icy grasp, and pull it out
to see Thanks for listening. If you like what you're here,
please share it with someone you know who loves scary
stories at Christmas time. If you'd like to read the
(30:05):
full novel for yourself in print, it's available in paperback, hardback,
and kindle versions at Weird Darkness dot com slash Advent
of Evil. That's also where you can go to hear
each of the twenty four chapters as they're posted. I'm
Darren Marler. Thanks for celebrating Advent with me in the
Weird Darkness
Officer Matthew Klein's peaceful life in Marshport, Maine, shattered on
December first, when he arrested his best friend's son, Zach,
for a bizarre attack at a local cafe, and a
mysterious advent calendar appeared on his doorstep No. Sender, twenty
four doors and a carved bearded face with hollow eyes.
(00:23):
The calendar's trinkets began revealing a deadly pattern. A miniature
house burst into flames, identical to Matthew's childhood home that
burned thirty years ago. A red feather preceded a cardinal
caused car crash involving Pastor Hart. A crystal star foretold
city planner Bridget Carr's death beneath the town's Christmas tree,
the giant star ornament embedded in her skull. Some trinkets
(00:46):
exposed Matthew's buried secrets, while others predicted violence in Marshport.
Each won a clue each day, bringing new horror. When
Matthew tried opening a door early, a shadowy child, smelling
of smoke and ash, warning him follow the rules or
the consequences will be dire. The figure spoke with his
(01:08):
dead brother's voice whispering the same words Stephen had spoken
before that fire, Uncle David, can you hear us? The
fourth door revealed a police mugshot of Uncle David, the
demon of Bayville, a serial killer who removed his victim's eyes.
Matthew finally confessed his deepest secret. He wasn't Matthew Kleine
(01:30):
at all, but Matthew Norris, sole survivor of a Christmas
Eve fire that killed his family. When he and Stephen
used a spirit board to contact their dead uncle and
unleashed something demonic instead, the shadowy Enforcer was Stephen's charred spirit,
bound to the Calender's vengeful countdown. Matthew confessed everything to
(01:51):
his wife, Anika. Behind the fifth door was a bloody cross,
and convinced Pastor Heart was in danger, they raced to
the hospital, only to find him I'm perfectly safe. The
Calendar had deceived them with a false target. On December sixth,
Matthew discovered a mysterious snake shaped z carved into the
calendar's back, and his seven year old son Mason began
(02:12):
knowing impossible things that the calendar had killed someone. Sensing
the burning smell that haunted his father, Matthew the entity
had infiltrated their family. Behind Door six was a miniature lion.
When pink haired barista Gwen Martin didn't show up for work,
her worried father asked Matthew to check on her. Matthew
found her dead in her apartment, the bloody cross buried
(02:35):
in her chest, murdered the day before. While he chased
the wrong lead, a lion masked attacker came at him
with a crowbar. It was Zach Welch, again, controlled like
a puppet. Dead. Behind the eyes, seven doors opened, seventeen remain,
and the countdown to Christmas Eve continues. Welcome Weirdos. I'm
(03:36):
Darren Marler, and this is Weird Darkness's Advent of Evil,
a holiday horror novel written by Scott Donnelly based on
a concept from Darren Marler. Twenty four Doors, twenty four days,
twenty four secrets waiting in the darkness, just like an
advent calendar counting down the Christmas We'll unlock one chapter
(03:57):
each day, but what we find behind these doors may
not be the gift you're expecting. You can find all
available chapters, as well as the print version, in paperback, hardback,
or Kindle at Weird Darkness dot com slash Advent of Evil.
The calendar is waiting. Let's see what awaits us behind
today's door. Sunday, December seventh, I stood in the doorway,
(04:28):
looking at myself in the full length mirror that hung
on the outside of our bedroom door. I could see myself.
I could see the suit and tie I was wearing
for church. I could see soft skin on my face
where I had just shaved off my weak old scruff.
I could see my eyes red from the fatigue of
another sleapless night. What I couldn't see was a physical
(04:51):
manifestation of the headache, pounding against the inside of my
skull like a little angry man with a jackhammer. I
couldn't see a somatic form of the mortification I felt
after watching Zach Welch unmasked for a second time. This instance, however,
with a far and more consequential impact. It wasn't like
it was on Monday. It wasn't just an attack that
(05:13):
was cut short by me showing up with my badge
and gun. This time he actually committed a cold blooded murder.
Gwen Martin was pronounced dead at the scene. A medical
examiner put her time of death somewhere between six and
seven the night before. On the fifth, the same day,
I opened the advent calendar door. It was small, metal,
(05:35):
blood dipped cross. It wasn't a coincidence that Gwen was
found with a metal cross buried deep in the center
of her chest. Theme determined to struggle had taken place
before she was forced onto her bed by Zack, where
he ultimately killed her with one formidable stab. When I
watched Zack stagger out of the house like a dazed
(05:56):
and confused zombie, I remember feeling like I'd and tricked deceived.
Zak had admitted earlier in the week that a stranger,
a child much younger than he, told him to attack
Karl in order to send a message. He seemed remorseful.
His father, Simon, was ashamed. I hadn't heard from either
(06:18):
of them since my lunch was Simon the following day
any text, and I shot his way when unanswered, and Zach,
from what I understood, had been suspended by the school
and placed under temporary house arrest. Apathetically, I adjusted my
tie and blinked laboriously, feeling my eyes burned and almost
stick to the fleshy interiors of their lids. When they
(06:40):
snapped back open, I saw Annika standing beside me in
the mirror. She wore a short sleeved, pink sheathed dress
with an elegant bow tied around her waist. Her hair
rolled down over her shoulders, and I could smell the
shampoo she had used, something with melon in it. I
looked at her face in the reflection, noticing the map
and lipstick she wore. Even without those superficial applications, she
(07:05):
was the most beautiful person I'd ever met in my life.
I turned and faced her away from the mirror, and
our eyes met. Hers weren't red, but they did display
a hefty amount of sympathy and understanding for everything that
had transpired. You look really nice, she said, straight faced. Thanks,
I replied. I inhaled through my nose and let it
(07:28):
back out slowly. Annaka put a hand on my arm
and pulled me close, wrapping me in a hug that
felt like the coziest winter blanket ever made. I closed
my eyes again, fighting the hurt and tears that I
felt could very easily be triggered at any moment. Once
the hug was over, Annaka pulled away. You don't have
(07:48):
to come today if you don't want to, she said.
I shook my head. Now I'm coming after this week.
I need to be surrounded by a little piece. Anna
finally smiled. Plus, it'll be Pastor Hart's first sermon since
his accident, at least that's what Ruby was hoping. Well,
we can't miss that, then, can we. Annaka gave me
(08:10):
one more tight squeeze and then looked herself up and
down in the mirror. Does this look okay? It looks great?
You look great, I said. I watched her smile again,
admiring herself in the mirror. I wondered if the choice
of a pink dress was a subconscious tribute to Gwen
and her matching hair. Can you help me make sure
(08:30):
the kids are ready, Annika asked. Of course. I sprayed
myself with a little cologne and made my way to
Logan's room. First. The door was wide open, and he
was sitting on the edge of his bed, dressed for church,
with his arms crossed and head down. Oh what's wrong, buddy,
I asked, stepping into his room. Logan didn't look up.
(08:50):
He just kept his head down and his arms tightened
abound his body. Harder, like a snake constricting its prey. Logan, Oh,
what's wrong, I asked again, putting a hand on a
should beson. He mumbled, what about Mason, he's lying about
what about everything? Logan exploded, releasing the constricting grip his arms,
(09:11):
hat around his body and snapping his head up at me.
He said, I ruined his stuffed bare but I didn't.
I don't like it when people tell lies about me. Okay, okay,
I said, let me talk to him and we'll get
it all figured out. I started to leave the room,
but stopped at the doorway. You didn't, though, right, but
just for context, no, Logan growled. I moved down the
(09:34):
hall to Mason's room. The door was shut and locked.
I knocked twice sternly. Mason over the door. Now, his
little voice said, from the other side, open it now,
you know we don't allow locked doors in the house.
After a moment, the lock clicked and the door opened.
Mason stood there, still in his pajamas and holding a
(09:55):
handful of wool stuffing. What's going on, I asked, lo
he killed my bear? He said coldly, I'm not going
to church. I looked into the room behind him, and
saw more wool stuffing scattered all over the floor, and
then the shredded, discarded remains of the Teddy Bear bunched
up in the corner. He looked like a ger rated
crime scene. Logan said, he didn't do it, I explained
(10:19):
to him, and you said he did. Someone's lying. Mason
didn't respond. He just turned his hand over and let
the wool stuffing follow to the floor. His house is
full of liars, he said, in a low, stoic voice.
Just get dressed, Mason, were leaving in five minutes, I said,
and then walked back down the hallway. His door slammed
(10:42):
shut behind me enough to rattle a picture for him
on the wall. Aside from Christmas music playing over the
car radio, the ride to church was quiet. The boys
wouldn't even look at each other. In the back seat,
Anaka watched Marshport glide by out the passenger window and
couldn't stop thinking about Zach Welch. I'd known Simon for
(11:03):
twenty years, which meant I knew Zach his entire life,
and from knowing someone that long you can get a
really good idea of the kind of person they are.
So to say, I was shocked by what he had done.
Would be the understatement of the century. I wondered about
the small child he saw, the one who stunk of
smoke and allegedly encouraged the attack. I wondered if the
(11:26):
same child told him to go after Gwen as well.
Why the Martins? What had they done to deserve any
of this? The child that stunked of smoke was another
piece of the puzzle that I couldn't figure out. I'd
also been seeing a childlike figure, one that was shrouded
in darkness and caked with ashes, one that I believed
(11:47):
to be Stephen. Zach never mentioned anything about the child's
appearance seeming off that I was aware of. Otherwise I
could have officially made the connection between the two. That
wasn't to say they weren't the same child, that they
both weren't Stephen. But I just couldn't figure out, for
the life of me, why Stephen would show up as
(12:08):
an apparition to Zach. It didn't make sense. When we
arrived at church, the four of us walked in and
took our seats in one of the middle pews. We
were right on time. As Pastor Hart stood on the
pulpit with several pages of material in his hands. He
looked healthier than ever, which was a relief after seeing
(12:30):
him in his post crash condition several days ago. The
entire church hushed to silence as Pastor Hart cleared his
throat and adjusted the glasses on his face. He looked
down at one of the sheets of paper before him,
and then up at his congregation. This week was a
tragic one from Marshport, Pastor Hart spoke, his voice echoing
throughout the knave. Even I was not left unharmed. So
(12:54):
I'd like to begin our sermon today with a moment
of silent remembrance for two of Marshport's very Richard Aline
car and Gwen Clear Martin both lost their lives this
week in different yet equally tragic ways, and neither of
them will ever be forgotten. Pastor Hart lowered his head
(13:14):
and closed his eyes, as did every single person in
the church. The silence was overwhelming, thick with mourning and grief.
I tried my best to hold back a burning tear.
When Pastor Heart cleared his throat again, bringing the peaceful
moment to a close, I lifted my head and watched
the sea of other parishioners do the same in a
hypnotic display that I likened to the wave at a
(13:37):
sporting event. Pastor Hart continued, Ridgard's family wanted me to
disclose that her wake will be held at nine am
Tuesday at Tides in the funeral home. A private burial
will follow for the family. Pastor Hart jumped right into
his sermon, and just like all we see, seamlessly delivered it.
Like the expert he was, even making someone like me
(14:00):
feel a fleeting sense of comfort and harmony. Once the
concluding prayer was said and Pastor Hart reminded everyone once
more about Bridget's wake, the collective of churchgoers dispersed, many
of them finding their own small pockets of quiet conversation.
Annaka met up with Jasmine and Ruby Hart near the lobby.
Logan and Mason remained at her side, still angry with
(14:22):
one another because of the unsolved Teddy Bear disembellment. I
lingered in the aisle, looking up at the swirling designs
and the cathedral ceiling, admiring all the work that must
have gone into designing and building it. I wasn't a
church guy, but that didn't mean I couldn't appreciate certain
aspects of being in one. Aside from the beautiful architecture,
(14:43):
the feeling of acceptance and comfort was nice. May with you,
an old voice spoke behind me. I turned around and
saw Pastor Hart standing there with an obliged smile on
his face. Pastor Hart, I said, reaching out and shaking
his hand. Please just Rustle said, waving his hands around.
I'm so happy you're here today. I never got to
(15:04):
thank you in person for being by my side after
the accident. I am forever grateful for you. I was
just doing my job, Russell, I said. He then studied
my face closely, focusing on my eyes in particular. Are
you all right, Matthew, I nodded. Russell tilted his head
and sperked out of the corner of his mouth. I
(15:25):
could tell he didn't believe me in the slightest. Would
you like to talk privately, I adjusted, uncomfortably. I don't know.
I think we're about to leave. He turned around and
watched Annika, Jasmine and Ruby talk and laugh with one another.
Then he faced me again with the same crooked smirk.
I think you have time. I followed Russell to his study.
(15:48):
The room was dignified with heavy oak finished furniture, soft carpet,
and devout images displayed on the walls. He sat beside
his large desk and I took a seat in one
of the two chairs across from him. He appeared relaxed
and ready to listen to anything I had to say.
I felt a great unease when I watched you and
your family walk into the church earlier, Russell said. I nodded, well,
(16:12):
the boys aren't speaking to one another this morning. He
nodded with a smile that let me know that he knew.
I tried to glaze over his initial assumptions. Something else
is bothering you, Matthew, I can tell please talk to me.
This is a private sanctuary. Anything you tell me won't
be repeated. You have my word. I couldn't believe that
(16:33):
he'd actually got to me. On the tip of my
tongue were narratives of a malevolent inanimate object sitting in
my home, next to our fireplace, that I was absolutely
sure had come into my life to cause chaos and disorder.
I turned in my seat to make sure the door
to his study was closed, and when I confirmed that
it was, I faced Russell again. Do you believe in
(16:57):
evil things, I asked him, with a hint of him harassment.
He nodded, I believe in good, therefore I believe in evil.
There can't be one without the other. He sat back
in his seat and interlocked his fingers over his knees.
Good can be expressed, practiced, and learned. Evil well, sometimes
(17:17):
evil can't be explained. It just is. That's why there
has to be good to combat it, to arrival it.
Something needs to keep the evil in line, to keep
the balance. He'll let me sit with his words for
a moment. As I analyzed them in my head, I
realized I needed to be more specific with him, more upfront.
(17:38):
On Monday, we received a gift in our house from
someone I don't know who. It was an antique advent
calendar made of wood with really precise engravings on it.
The boys tried to open the doors but couldn't. Annik
I tried also, she couldn't. The calendar will only allow
me to open it. I saw Russell's face wrinkle at
(18:02):
that little odd fact. I continued ever since that first day,
every time I open a new door on the calendar,
what comes out of it is their threats warnings, predictions,
echoes of something horrible from my past. Russell sat forward
(18:22):
and placed his hands on his desk. His face looked intense.
Someone left his advent calendar and filled it with things
either from your past or threats to you. I shook
my head. No, not just me. Everything, everything strange that's
happened in Marshport over the past week, has in some
way correlated with what I've pulled out of the calendar.
(18:45):
I pulled a feather on the same day you were
in a car accident caused by a bird. I pulled
a star trinket. The same day Bridget was killed by
the falling tree top star. I pulled a bloody cross
the day Gwen was murdered with a cross. Russell was
deeply invested in my words. His eyes focused strictly on mine,
(19:06):
his bottom lip had a slight quiver, and the other
days he hesitantly asked a small lion toy. Yesterday, when
I was attacked by Zach Welch wearing a lion mask,
a miniature model that resembled my child at home, which
burst into flames just like the real one. In a
mugshot of my blood uncle, who was a serial killer.
(19:30):
He swallowed hard, audibly even and sat back in his chair.
He took in everything that I said. Well, what do
you make of all of this? I asked him? This
advent calendar certainly seems to be surrounded by negative spiritual energy,
he said, his eyes wandering around aimlessly as he tried
to comprehend my allegations. Then he looked me in the face.
(19:52):
Whoever sent it to you must know a great deal
about your past, A sibling or parent. Perhaps my head
slightly no, I said, they're all dead. But I stopped
myself from going any further from divulging the fact that
I've been seeing a shadowy childlike figure in my house
that I was certain of being my dead brother. I
(20:14):
closed my eyes and could hear his horse s mangled words,
Uncle David, can you hear us? With my eyes still closed,
I could hear the roar of the fire, the screams
from my parents and Stephen. As I ran through the
cold night for help. I saw myself standing helplessly, selfishly
inside the neighbor's house as wilbur Ward ran like a
(20:36):
hero toward the house, but stopped dead in his tracks
right before the inferno. Matthew Russell's voice shook me out
of the haunting void my mind had fallen into. I
opened my eyes with a gasp, and I knew he
was looking at me now with even more confusion and worry.
What was in the calendar today? I shook my head.
(20:57):
I haven't opened it yet, don't He sternly suggested, Just
don't open it. I had already thought about not opening
it once, but something in the pit of my stomach
kept telling me that if I didn't, I wouldn't be
playing by the rules. Another thing, the shadowy entity, had threatened.
(21:17):
I stood up from my seat and Russell slowly followed
my lead. I have to go, I said to him.
Thank you so much for letting me talk anytime, he said,
still very concerned. As I was leaving the study, he
called out, if you need to talk again before next Sunday,
you know where to find me. I nodded in appreciation
(21:37):
and left the room, making sure the door closed behind me.
By the time we were home, the kids were hungry,
and their shared hunger somehow broke the bad blood between them.
They begged for hot dogs and chips, so Anika and
I went to work fixing an early lunch once there
was food in their bellies, they ran off to play
(21:57):
video games together. I gathered the wool stuffing in bear
carcass from Mason's room and laid it out on the
kitchen counter for Anaka to see. So what do you think,
I asked. I think he'll be able to dust off
your old sewing skills and pull out Doctor Frankenstein style restoration.
Annaka's eyes widened upon seeing the grizzly stuffed bear remains. WHOA,
(22:20):
she said, that's a little more hardcore than I was picturing.
She picked it up and examined it before accepting the challenge. Yeah,
I think it's possible, good, I said, pulling out my
phone to see if I had missed a text from
Simon anything, Annika asked, Now, I said, slipping the phone
back into my pocket. Think you should drive over there
(22:42):
to check on him. I didn't want to invade Simon's
personal space after what his son had done, but without
a single response from him, Anakin might have had the
right idea. You don't mind if I run over there,
she smiled. Of course, not go check on your friend.
I'll get come, get a Hallmark movie on TV, and
start bringing this bear back to life. I kissed, Anika,
(23:07):
you are the best, I said, I'll be back as
soon as I can. I grabbed my coat from the
rack and my keys from the basket, and then left
for Simon's. Simon lifted an older split level house near
the edge of Marshport, not far from where Bridgeton. I
stood on the side of the road awaiting the flatbed
truck to haul the tree into town. This road hadn't
(23:28):
been plowed, so my car struggled through the snow until
I was finally able to bring it to a stop
right in front of his mailbox. It was Sunday, so
I wasn't worried about sending him into a work related
rant about things that annoyed him on a day to
day basis. However, for a mail carrier was such a
long career. His box sat crooked, with its door hanging
from only one of its hinges. I shut the engine
(23:50):
off and looked at Simon's house. From where I sat,
it looked desolate. The curtains were all drawn, the Christmas
lights he had strung were all turned off, and his
car sat in the driveway with a fresh dusting of
snow upon it. I walked through his yard, creating the
first set of footprints in the fresh dusting, and knocked
on his door. As I waited, I listened to the
(24:12):
winter wind howling through the pine forest that skulked behind
his house. As I prepared to knock again, the front
door cracked open and I saw a sliver of my
friend Simon. I said, relieved that he was okay. I
don't want to talk about it. Simon grumbled, sounding drowsy
or sick. I'm not on duty, I'm here as a friend.
(24:33):
Simon closed his eyes and shook his head. Matthew, I
can't Tom, sorry, please, I begged, I've been worried about you.
Can we talk just for a minute. Simon remained silent,
but stared daggers into me. I wasn't sure if that
was him reiterating his desire to not speak, or if
he was allowing me in opening to say my peace.
(24:55):
I decided to take my chances. Did you talk to him?
I asked. I could see the hesitation on Simon's face
in the end. However, he nodded, ever so slightly for
a minute. What did he say? Simon started to clam up,
so I had to remind him. I was there was
a friend and not with the police. Did he say
(25:16):
why he did it? Why Gwen? Why Carl? He he
said the same thing. Simon languidly told me. He said
some kid told him to do it, to send a message,
to reveal secrets. Secrets. That was a new detail this kid.
I began. Did he give a name? Simon was delayed
(25:39):
again with his response, but when it came it was crucial.
Zach said the boy's name was Stephen. He said that
I was waiting on pins and needles for Simon to
finish his sentence. He said that what I encouraged him?
He said that you were keeping secrets big ones me.
(26:02):
Simon nodded, Are you do you know something? Simon grew
loud and angry. Do you know why this little boy
has twisted my son's mind into some kind of canvas
for such callous, brutal things. I took a step back. No,
I said, I don't just go, Matthew, Simon shouted, until
you're ready to spill your secrets and tell me why
(26:23):
this happened to my son. Just leave us alone. The
door slammed shut, and I was left standing there on
the front steps, shaken by what had just transpired. My assumption,
my fear was right, though, that little boy was Stephen,
or at least some sort of spectral version of him.
(26:43):
Whether it be an apparition or a hallucination. I wasn't
sure Zach had seen Stephen as his former self, an
innocent seven year old boy. I was seeing him as
a shadowy phantom, with flexs of ash breaking away from
his body and embers burning within his murky form. I
walked back to my car, thinking about some of the
last words Simon said to me, until you're ready to
(27:07):
spill your secrets being what stuck out the most, guilt
and regret began to ravage my body and mind again.
The sick feeling in my stomach strangled the memories back
to the surface. The fire, the screams, My cowardly selfishness.
It was all my fault. When I got home, I
(27:31):
walked in to see Annika sitting by the fireplace, dressed
down in sweatpants and a sweatshirt and beginning to stitch
the stuffed bear back together. She looked up at me
and must have immediately noticed my front appearance. The welcoming
smile that began to form on her face was quickly
replaced with a troubled frown. What's wrong, she asked, setting
her sewing project aside. I didn't answer. My eyes wandered
(27:55):
from her to the Advent calendar, the source of all
of the resurfaced anguish I was feeling, as well as
the nightmare of all marshboard had been thrust into. Without
saying a word to Anaika, I walked straight to the
advent calendar and opened door number seven. What I pulled
out I looked at for barely a second before tossing
it aside. It gently glided to the floor, where it
(28:17):
rested in front of the fireplace. That's the last one
I'm opening, I said, impassively. I picked up the calendar
and carried it toward the front door. Wait. Annika jumped
to her feet. What are you doing. I'm getting rid
of this thing. I don't want it in the house.
I'm done with it, I aggressively huffed, and then left
the house. I chucked the calendar into the back of
my car and drove down the street to Gull's Rest,
(28:39):
a remote section of the coastline heavily guarded by pine
trees and rocks. Gulls Rest was barren, icy, and the
waters were glacial cold. I carried the calendar down to
where the waves were rolling over the coarse sand. I
held it up in front of me, staring at the
engraved bearded man in his empty, featureless eyes. I scowled
at him, still unsure of who he was are, what
(29:01):
significance he held in all of this, if any. I
ran my fingers around the car of DGEs and peered
into the empty space where door number seven dangled open
on its small metal hinges. By now I was sure
Anika had seen its latest offering. Laying on the floor
by the fireplace, a photo of Logan and Mason. Things
(29:22):
from my past, things from around town. They were all
one thing, even as negatively as they had affected me
and others. But when my family becomes a pawn in
this sick, dark game that I didn't understand, that's the
line that I would not allow to be crossed. My
family was precious and off limits. With as much strength
(29:44):
as I could conjure, I threw the Advent calendar into
the ocean and watched the slushy waves roll over it,
seize it within their icy grasp, and pull it out
to see Thanks for listening. If you like what you're here,
please share it with someone you know who loves scary
stories at Christmas time. If you'd like to read the
(30:05):
full novel for yourself in print, it's available in paperback, hardback,
and kindle versions at Weird Darkness dot com slash Advent
of Evil. That's also where you can go to hear
each of the twenty four chapters as they're posted. I'm
Darren Marler. Thanks for celebrating Advent with me in the
Weird Darkness
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