August 11, 2014 • 9 mins
Creature story of a Louisiana gambler who runs afoul of swamp vampires while on the run from the law.
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"Chancy Fox" was written and told by Thomas E. Fuller
Audio Production: Henry Howard
The Moonlit Road Podcast is a production of The Moonlit Road, LLC.
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:02):
(Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited to remove this message.) Night has fallen, and the moon is a
glowing golden orb in the black sky.
See how it shines on the dark back
roads of America, and on one road in
particular.
Come with us, and we'll take a walk
(00:23):
down the moonlit road, for the night is
waiting.
And the moon is full.
(00:45):
Hungry for the gulf, the dark river flows
broad and wide after river bend, devouring its
own banks.
The marshlands appear as the river banks fade,
but if you go far enough into the
marshes, the swamps begin.
(01:05):
Now Chansey Fox was a gambling man, and
a good one.
So it was just damn laziness that run
him afoul of Sheriff Black Mountain Kincade and
his two brothers, Kennesaw and Stone.
That was up at Swan's Land and right
above Meridia.
Chansey may have been lazy, but he wasn't
a total fool.
He was up and out of there before
(01:27):
that fifth ace he'd tucked up his sleeve
hit the table.
He figured as soon as he was outside
of Swan's Land and he'd be out of
the Sheriff's jurisdiction and free.
He figured wrong.
Chansey Fox had offended something deep in Black
Mountain Kincade's rusty soul.
The Sheriff reached the limits of Swan's Landing
(01:48):
and just kept going.
And where Black Mountain went, his brothers were
sure to follow.
That gambler ran south, hugging the banks of
the dark river, past Carpenter and Egret, past
Meridia itself, and everywhere he tried to get
a friendly game of cards going.
Here they would come, riding into town on
(02:08):
their black horses, close as memory, relentless as
death, Sheriff Black Mountain Kincade and his brothers.
Chansey Fox was getting right desperate, so he'd
come up with a plan.
He took the blue stag packet steamer when
it stopped for wood at Paradox.
(02:29):
He knew the brothers' Kincade would be right
behind him.
Soon as that riverboat hit the marshlands, he
undid the dinghy tied to its side and
slipped away into the night.
Into the marsh he went.
Twist right, twist left, twist right again.
Soon as he was well in, he rowed
(02:50):
into the grass and waited.
Sure enough, another dinghy come slipping past with
three large men and a lantern.
Chansey Fox waited for a few minutes, chuckled,
and started rowing back the way he'd come.
Two hours later, he was still rowing.
Now you'd think a man couldn't lose something
(03:12):
as big as a river, but Chansey managed
it.
He turned and turned and turned again, still
couldn't see anything but marsh grass.
He was so busy not seeing things, he
didn't notice all the cypress trees till he
was surrounded by them.
Spanish moss like old men's whiskers brushed his
(03:32):
face and he couldn't see for the mosquitoes.
And then, then two things happened.
He saw the huge rotting old plantation house
rise up out of the darkness, and someone
coshed him a good one on the back
of the head.
When Chansey came to, he was lying on
(03:53):
a dank mildewed old chaise in the middle
of a dank mildewed old room, and three
women were fussing over him.
At least they looked like women, kind of.
They were tall and thin like paper-folded
herons, and dressed in raggedy finery at least
sixty years out of date.
(04:13):
And their eyes were very, very bright, and
the teeth were very, very sharp.
At first, Chansey was enjoying all the attention,
and he actually started listening to what the
sisters were saying, and the enjoying stopped right
fast.
Their voices were dry and rustling, like mice
(04:35):
scampering through old newspapers.
They'd been in that decaying house ever since
Daddy died and the swamp rose, and they
were right lonely, and right hungry.
And Chansey, he remembered that mosquitoes ain't the
only things that drink blood.
(04:56):
But Chansey could think fast when he had
to, and he thought fast now.
Ladies, he said with a courtly cough, I
am flattered by your attention, but there are
three of you, and I'm right poorly.
Now, out in the swamp is a boat
with a lantern, and three of the finest
(05:16):
men it is my privilege to know.
And while I am loath to share, whatever
are friends for?
The sisters looked at each other and tittered,
and suddenly they were gone, like herons flying
off into the night.
Having effectively taken care of Black Mountain, Kincaid,
(05:37):
and his brothers, Chansey Fox tipped his head
over his eyes and went to sleep.
Later, he thought he heard screams coming up
out the swamps, but that's probably a dream.
As day started to break, there was a
dry rustling like birds with paper wings, and
the sisters were back.
Now, instead of being tall and thin like
(05:59):
herons, they were round and bloated like ticks,
and not paying any attention to Chansey.
But Chansey was paying attention to them.
They disappeared into the bowels of the house,
and Chansey waited until the sun was up
full, broke three legs off a chair, and
went hunting.
(06:20):
He found them in three separate rooms, lying
in three separate coffins, and without so much
as a thank you, he drove a chair
leg right through each of their hearts.
Black blood erupted all over the place, but
Chansey didn't mind.
And when they were dead, they were really
dead.
(06:43):
Now, if Chansey had been as smart as
he thought he was, he would have found
his dinghy and gotten far, far away from
there, but he figured ladies like that would
have jewels or some such, and it took
him a while to find them.
To find them he did, even though it
took him all day.
Night was falling when he finally headed down
(07:05):
the crumbling steps, and the deep, cavernous voice
rumbled at him out of the night.
Evening, gambler.
And Chansey Fox turned and stared at the
tall, bulky figure of Sheriff Black Mountain Kincaid
looming in the dark, his two giant brothers
(07:27):
on either side of him.
Evening, Sheriff.
Heard you was dead.
Well, that's strange, gambler.
Heard the same thing about you.
And the sheriff smiled, and his brothers smiled,
(07:51):
and their eyes were very, very bright, and
their teeth were very, very sharp, and Chansey
Fox remembered a few other things about bloodsuckers.
He didn't even bother to scream as they
closed in on him, their blood-soaked clothes
(08:13):
rustling like paper wings.
Hungry for the gulf, the dark river flows
broad and wide after riverbend.
The marshlands appear as the riverbanks fade, but
if you go far enough into the marshes,
(08:36):
the swamps begin.
That concludes this tale from the Moonlit Road.
Be sure to visit our website at themoonlitroad
.com to find out more about our stories
and let us know how we're doing.
The Moonlit Road is produced and directed by
(08:57):
Craig Dominey, recorded and soundscaped by Henry Howard
in beautiful Stone Mountain, Georgia.
Thanks for listening, and we'll see you next
time.
(Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited to remove this message.) Night has fallen, and the moon is a
glowing golden orb in the black sky.
See how it shines on the dark back
roads of America, and on one road in
particular.
Come with us, and we'll take a walk
(00:23):
down the moonlit road, for the night is
waiting.
And the moon is full.
(00:45):
Hungry for the gulf, the dark river flows
broad and wide after river bend, devouring its
own banks.
The marshlands appear as the river banks fade,
but if you go far enough into the
marshes, the swamps begin.
(01:05):
Now Chansey Fox was a gambling man, and
a good one.
So it was just damn laziness that run
him afoul of Sheriff Black Mountain Kincade and
his two brothers, Kennesaw and Stone.
That was up at Swan's Land and right
above Meridia.
Chansey may have been lazy, but he wasn't
a total fool.
He was up and out of there before
(01:27):
that fifth ace he'd tucked up his sleeve
hit the table.
He figured as soon as he was outside
of Swan's Land and he'd be out of
the Sheriff's jurisdiction and free.
He figured wrong.
Chansey Fox had offended something deep in Black
Mountain Kincade's rusty soul.
The Sheriff reached the limits of Swan's Landing
(01:48):
and just kept going.
And where Black Mountain went, his brothers were
sure to follow.
That gambler ran south, hugging the banks of
the dark river, past Carpenter and Egret, past
Meridia itself, and everywhere he tried to get
a friendly game of cards going.
Here they would come, riding into town on
(02:08):
their black horses, close as memory, relentless as
death, Sheriff Black Mountain Kincade and his brothers.
Chansey Fox was getting right desperate, so he'd
come up with a plan.
He took the blue stag packet steamer when
it stopped for wood at Paradox.
(02:29):
He knew the brothers' Kincade would be right
behind him.
Soon as that riverboat hit the marshlands, he
undid the dinghy tied to its side and
slipped away into the night.
Into the marsh he went.
Twist right, twist left, twist right again.
Soon as he was well in, he rowed
(02:50):
into the grass and waited.
Sure enough, another dinghy come slipping past with
three large men and a lantern.
Chansey Fox waited for a few minutes, chuckled,
and started rowing back the way he'd come.
Two hours later, he was still rowing.
Now you'd think a man couldn't lose something
(03:12):
as big as a river, but Chansey managed
it.
He turned and turned and turned again, still
couldn't see anything but marsh grass.
He was so busy not seeing things, he
didn't notice all the cypress trees till he
was surrounded by them.
Spanish moss like old men's whiskers brushed his
(03:32):
face and he couldn't see for the mosquitoes.
And then, then two things happened.
He saw the huge rotting old plantation house
rise up out of the darkness, and someone
coshed him a good one on the back
of the head.
When Chansey came to, he was lying on
(03:53):
a dank mildewed old chaise in the middle
of a dank mildewed old room, and three
women were fussing over him.
At least they looked like women, kind of.
They were tall and thin like paper-folded
herons, and dressed in raggedy finery at least
sixty years out of date.
(04:13):
And their eyes were very, very bright, and
the teeth were very, very sharp.
At first, Chansey was enjoying all the attention,
and he actually started listening to what the
sisters were saying, and the enjoying stopped right
fast.
Their voices were dry and rustling, like mice
(04:35):
scampering through old newspapers.
They'd been in that decaying house ever since
Daddy died and the swamp rose, and they
were right lonely, and right hungry.
And Chansey, he remembered that mosquitoes ain't the
only things that drink blood.
(04:56):
But Chansey could think fast when he had
to, and he thought fast now.
Ladies, he said with a courtly cough, I
am flattered by your attention, but there are
three of you, and I'm right poorly.
Now, out in the swamp is a boat
with a lantern, and three of the finest
(05:16):
men it is my privilege to know.
And while I am loath to share, whatever
are friends for?
The sisters looked at each other and tittered,
and suddenly they were gone, like herons flying
off into the night.
Having effectively taken care of Black Mountain, Kincaid,
(05:37):
and his brothers, Chansey Fox tipped his head
over his eyes and went to sleep.
Later, he thought he heard screams coming up
out the swamps, but that's probably a dream.
As day started to break, there was a
dry rustling like birds with paper wings, and
the sisters were back.
Now, instead of being tall and thin like
(05:59):
herons, they were round and bloated like ticks,
and not paying any attention to Chansey.
But Chansey was paying attention to them.
They disappeared into the bowels of the house,
and Chansey waited until the sun was up
full, broke three legs off a chair, and
went hunting.
(06:20):
He found them in three separate rooms, lying
in three separate coffins, and without so much
as a thank you, he drove a chair
leg right through each of their hearts.
Black blood erupted all over the place, but
Chansey didn't mind.
And when they were dead, they were really
dead.
(06:43):
Now, if Chansey had been as smart as
he thought he was, he would have found
his dinghy and gotten far, far away from
there, but he figured ladies like that would
have jewels or some such, and it took
him a while to find them.
To find them he did, even though it
took him all day.
Night was falling when he finally headed down
(07:05):
the crumbling steps, and the deep, cavernous voice
rumbled at him out of the night.
Evening, gambler.
And Chansey Fox turned and stared at the
tall, bulky figure of Sheriff Black Mountain Kincaid
looming in the dark, his two giant brothers
(07:27):
on either side of him.
Evening, Sheriff.
Heard you was dead.
Well, that's strange, gambler.
Heard the same thing about you.
And the sheriff smiled, and his brothers smiled,
(07:51):
and their eyes were very, very bright, and
their teeth were very, very sharp, and Chansey
Fox remembered a few other things about bloodsuckers.
He didn't even bother to scream as they
closed in on him, their blood-soaked clothes
(08:13):
rustling like paper wings.
Hungry for the gulf, the dark river flows
broad and wide after riverbend.
The marshlands appear as the riverbanks fade, but
if you go far enough into the marshes,
(08:36):
the swamps begin.
That concludes this tale from the Moonlit Road.
Be sure to visit our website at themoonlitroad
.com to find out more about our stories
and let us know how we're doing.
The Moonlit Road is produced and directed by
(08:57):
Craig Dominey, recorded and soundscaped by Henry Howard
in beautiful Stone Mountain, Georgia.
Thanks for listening, and we'll see you next
time.
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