Haunted Church Horror Stories

Secret sins will be exposed on this edition of Octoberpod AM classic horror podcast with tales of cursed clergymen and haunted churches! Your horror host Edward October    is tolling the church bells & there's something evil stirring between the pews! 
        
First up: "The Minister's Black Veil" It's the classic tale of a man haunted by his secret sin, written by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Then, Edward October delves into the deepest dungeons of Reddit for true tales of haunted churches and holy horrors.    Plus: "The Evil Clergyman" a nightmare of cosmic horror from the sick mind of horror master, HP Lovecraft. Featuring special guest Chrisi Talyn Sage (creator/star, Madison on the Air!)    

Think on your sins because church is now in session on this edition of Octoberpod AM: the retro horror show for bold individualists. 
        
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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:05):
I'm Edward October. The sound you hear is the tolling
of church bells on the Sabbath day in eighteenth century
New England. This is the start of October.

Speaker 2 (00:18):
Pod The sexton stood in the porch of the Milford Meetinghouse,
pulling lustily at the bell rope. The old people of
the village came stooping along the street. Children with bright
faces tripped merrily beside their parents, or mimicked a graver
gait in the conscious dignity of their Sunday clothes. Spruce
bachelors looked sidelong at the pretty maidens and fancied that

(00:41):
the Sabbath sunshine made them prettier than on weekdays. When
the throng had mostly streamed into the porch, the sexton
began to toll the bell, keeping his eye on the
reverend mister Hooper's door. The first glimpse of the clergyman's
figure was a signal for the bell to cease its summons.
But what has good Parson Hooper got upon it face,
cried the sexton in astonishment. All within hearing immediately turned

(01:04):
about and beheld the semblance of mister Hooper, pacing slowly
his meditative way towards the meetinghouse. With one accord, they
started expressing more wonder than if some strange minister were
coming to dust the cushions of mister Hooper's pulpit? Are
you sure it is our parson, inquired Goodman Gray, of
a certainty it is good, mister Hooper, replied the sexton.

(01:27):
He was to have exchanged pulpits with Parsons Shoot of Westerbury,
But Parson shoote sent to excuse himself yesterday, being to
preach a funeral sermon. The cause of so much amazement
may appear sufficiently slight. Mister Hooper, a gentlemanly person of
about thirty, though still a bachelor, was dressed with due
clerical neatness, as if a careful wife had starched his

(01:49):
band and brushed the weekly dust from his sunday's garb.
There was but one thing remarkable in his appearance. Swathed
about his forehead and hanging down over his face so
low as shaken by his breath, mister Hooper head on
a black veil. On a nearer view, it seemed to
consist of two folds of crape, which entirely concealed his

(02:11):
features except the mouth and chin, but probably did not
intercept his sight farther than to give a darkened aspect
to all living and inanimate things. With this gloomy shade
before him, Good mister Hooper walked onward at a slow
and quiet pace, stooping somewhat and looking on the ground,
as is customary with abstracted men, yet nodding kindly to

(02:33):
those of his parishioners who still waited on the meeting
house steps. But so wonder struck were they that this
greeting hardly meant with a return. I can't really feel
as if good mister Hooper's face was behind that piece
of crape, said the sexton. I don't like it, muttered
an old woman. He has changed himself into something awful
only by hiding his face. Our parson has gone mad,

(02:57):
cried Goodman Gray.

Speaker 1 (03:05):
The Minister's Black Veil parable by Nathaniel Hawthorne, narrated by
Chrissy tallon Sage, Creator Star of Madison on the Air,
with Edward October as the Reverend mister Hooper.

Speaker 2 (03:27):
A rumor had proceeded mister Hooper into the meeting house
and set all the congregation astir. Few could refrain from
twisting their heads towards the door. Many stood upright and
turned directly about. There was a general bustle, but mister
Hooper appeared not to notice the perturbation of his people.
He entered with an almost noiseless step, bent his head
mildly to the pews on the side, and bowed as

(03:50):
he passed his oldest parishioner. The mysterious emblem that black
veil was never once withdrawn. It shook with mister Hooper's
measured breath as he gave out the psalm. It threw
its obscurity between him and the holy page as he
read the scriptures, and while he prayed, the veil lay
heavily on his uplifted countenance. Did he seek to hide

(04:12):
his face from the dreaded being whom he was addressing.
Such was the effect of this simple piece of crape.
Then more than one woman of delicate nerves was forced
to leave the meetinghouse. Yet perhaps the pale faced congregation
was almost as fearful a sight to the minister as
his black veil was to them. Mister Hooper had the

(04:32):
reputation of a good preacher, but not an energetic one.
The sermon which he now delivered, was marked by the
same characteristics of style and manner as the general series
of his pulpit oratory. But there was something either in
the sentiment of the discourse itself, which made it greatly
the most powerful effort that they had ever heard from

(04:53):
their pastor's lips. It was tinged rather more darkly than
usual with the gentle gloom of Miste Hooper's temperament. The
subject had reference to secret sin and those sad mysteries
which we hide from our nearest and dearest, and would
fain conceal from our own consciousness, even forgetting that the

(05:13):
omniscient can detect them. A subtle power was breathed into
his words. Each member of the congregation, the most innocent
girl and the man of heart and breast, felt as
if the preacher had crept upon them behind his awful
veil and discovered their hoarded iniquity of deed or thought.

(05:36):
Many spread their clasped hands on their bosoms. There was
nothing terrible in what mister Hooper said, at least no violence,
and yet with every tremor of his melancholy voice, the
hearers quaked. An unsought pathos came hand in hand with awe.
The audience longed for a breath of wind to blow

(05:58):
aside the veil, almost believe that a stranger's visage would
be discovered, though the form, gesture, and voice were those
of mister Hooper. At the close of the services, the
people hurried out with indecorous confusion, eager to communicate their
pent up amazement, and conscious of lighter spirits the moment

(06:19):
they lost sight of the black veil. Some gathered in
little circles, huddled closely together, with their mouths all whispering.
In the center somewhat homeward bound wrapped in silent meditation,
Some talked loudly and profaned the Sabbath day with ostentatious laughter.
A few shook their heads, intimating that they could penetrate

(06:39):
the mystery, while one or two affirmed that there was
no mystery at all, but only that mister Hooper's eyes
were so weakened by the midnight lamp as to require
a shade. After a brief interval, fourth came good. Mister
Hooper also in the rear of his flock, turning his
veiled face from one group to another. He paid due

(07:00):
reverence to the hoary heads, saluted the middle aged with
kind dignity as their friend and spiritual guide, greeted the
young with mingled authority and love, and laid his hands
on the little children's heads to bless them. Such was
always the custom on the Sabbath day. Strange and bewildered
looks repaid him for his courtesy. None, as on former occasions,

(07:23):
aspired to the honor of walking by their pastor's side.
Old Squire Sanders, doubtless by an accidental lapse of memory,
neglected to invite mister Hooper to his table, where the
good clergyman had been wont to bless the food almost
every Sunday since his settlement. He returned therefore to the parsonage,
and at the moment of closing the door, was observed

(07:46):
to look back upon the people, all of whom had
their eyes fixed upon the minister. A sad smile gleamed
faintly from beneath the black veil, and flickered about his mouth,
glimmering as he disappeared. The afternoon's service was attended with
similar circumstances. At its conclusion, the bell told for the

(08:09):
funeral of a young lady. The relatives and friends were
assembled in the house, and the more distant acquaintances stood
about the door, all speaking of the good qualities of
the deceased, when their talk was interrupted by the appearance
of mister Hooper, still covered with his black veil. It
was now an appropriate emblem. The clergyman stepped into the

(08:32):
room where the corpse was laid, and bent over the
coffin to take a last farewell of his deceased parishioner.
As he stooped, the veil hung straight down from his forehead,
so that, if her eyelids had not been closed forever,
the dead maiden might have seen his face. Could mister

(08:53):
Hooper be fearful of her glance that he so hastily
caught back the black veil. A person who watched the
interview between the dead and living scrupled not to affirm
that in the instant when the clergyman's features were disclosed,
the corpse had slightly shuddered, rustling the shroud and muslin cap,
though the countenance retained the composure of death. A superstitious

(09:18):
old woman was the only witness of this prodigy. From
the coffin, mister Hooper passed into the chamber of the mourners,
and thence to the head of the staircase to make
the funeral prayer. It was a tender and heart dissolving prayer,
full of sorrow, yet so imbued with celestial hopes that

(09:39):
the music of a heavenly harp swept by the fingers
of the dead, seemed faintly to be heard amongst the
saddest accents of the minister. The people trembled, though they
but darkly understood him when he prayed that they and himself,
in all of mortal race, might be ready, as he
trusted this young maiden had been for the dreadful that

(10:00):
would snatch the veil from their faces. The bearers went
heavily forth, and the mourners followed, saddening all the street,
with the dead before them and mister Hooper in his
black veil behind. One in the procession fancied that the
minister and the maiden spirit were walking hand in hand.

(10:22):
That night, the handsomest couple in the village were to
be joined in wedlock. The company at the wedding awaited
his arrival with impatience, trusting that the strange awe which
had gathered over him throughout the day would now be dispelled.
But such was not the result. When mister Hooper came,
the first thing that their eyes rested on was the

(10:45):
same horrible black veil which had added deeper gloom to
the funeral and could pretend nothing but evil to the wedding.
Such was its immediate effect on the guests that a
cloud seemed to have rolled duskily from beneath the black crape.
It dimmed the light of the candles. The bridal pair
stood up before the minister, but the bride's cold fingers

(11:09):
quivered in the tremulous hand of the bridegroom, and her
death like paleness caused a whisper that the maiden, who
had been buried a few hours before, was come from
her grave to be married. After performing the ceremony, mister
Hooper raised the glass of wine to his lips, wishing
happiness to the new married couple, in a strain of

(11:32):
mild pleasantry that ought to have brightened the features of
the guests like a cheerful gleam from the hearth. At
that instant, catching a glimpse of his figure in the
looking glass, the black veil involved his own spirit and
the horror with which it overwhelmed all others. His frame shuddered,
his lips grew white. He spilt the untasted wine upon
the carpet, and rushed forth into the darkness, for the

(11:55):
earth too, had on her black veil. The next day,
the whole village of Milford talked of nothing else than
Parson Hooper's black veil. That and the mystery concealed behind it,
supplied a topic for discussion between acquaintances meeting in the
street and good women gossiping at their open windows. It

(12:16):
was remarkable that of all the busy bodies and impertinent
people in the parish, not one ventured to put the
plain question to mister Hooper. Wherefore he did this thing?
But there was one person in the village, a young
woman named Elizabeth. Unappalled by the awe with which the
black veil had impressed all beside herself, she, with the

(12:37):
calm energy of her character, determined to chase away the
strange cloud that appeared to be settling round mister Hooper
every moment more darkly than before. Come, good, sir, she
said to him, one evening, let the sun shine from
behind the cloud. First, lay aside your black veil, and
tell me why you put it on?

Speaker 3 (12:57):
There is an hour to come when all of us
shall cast aside our veils. Take it not, a miss,
beloved friend, if I wear this piece of crape till.

Speaker 2 (13:08):
Then what grievous affliction hath befallen you? She earnestly inquired
that sorrow should thus darken your eyes forever.

Speaker 3 (13:17):
If I hide my face for sorrow, there is cause enough.
And if I cover it for secret sin, what mortal
might not do the same?

Speaker 2 (13:28):
And with this gentle but unconquerable obstinacy did he resist
all her entreaties. At length. Elizabeth sat silent, but in
an instant, as it were, a new feeling took the
place of sorrow. Her eyes were fixed insensibly on the
black veil. When, like a sudden twilight in the air,

(13:49):
its terrors fell around her. She arose and stood trembling
before him.

Speaker 3 (13:55):
And do you feel it?

Speaker 4 (13:57):
Then?

Speaker 3 (13:59):
At last?

Speaker 2 (14:23):
From that time no attempts were made to remove mister
Hooper's black veil, or by a direct appeal to discover
the secret which it was supposed to hide by persons
who claimed a superiority to popular prejudice. It was reckoned
merely an eccentric whim such as often mingles with the
sober actions of men otherwise rational, and tingles them with

(14:45):
its own semblance of insanity. Mister Hooper could not walk
the street with any peace of mind, so conscious was
he that the gentle and timid would turn aside to
avoid him. These interactions compelled him to give up his
customary walk at sunset to the burial ground, for when
he leaned pensively over the gate, there would always be

(15:05):
faces behind the gravestones peeping at his black veil. A
fable went the rounds that the stare of the dead
people drove him. Thence it grieved him to the very
depth of his kind heart to observe how children fled
from his approach, breaking up their merriest sports, while his
melancholy figure was yet afar off. Their instinctive dread caused

(15:30):
him to feel, more strongly than aught else, that a
preter natural horror was interwoven with the threads of the
black crepe. In truth, he never willingly passed before a mirror,
nor stooped to drink at a still fountain, lest he
should be affrightened by his own reflection. This was what

(15:50):
gave plausibility to the whispers that mister Hooper's conscience tortured
him for some great crime, too horrible to be an
entirely concealed, or otherwise than so obscurely intimated. It was
said that ghost and fiend consorted with him there. Even

(16:10):
the lawless wind, it was believed, respected his dreadful secret
and never blew aside the veil. Among all its bad influences,
the black Veil had the one desirable effect of making
its wearer a very efficient clergyman. Dying sinners cried aloud

(16:33):
for mister Hooper, and would not yield their breath till
he appeared. Though ever, as he stooped to whisper consolation,
they shuddered at the veiled face so near their own.
Such were the terrors of the Black Veil. Even when
death had bared his visage. Strangers came long distances to

(16:56):
attend service at his church with the mere idle purpose
of getting at his figure, because it was forbidden them
to behold his face. But many were made to quake
ere they departed as years wore on, shedding their snows
above the sable veil. He acquired a name throughout the

(17:17):
new England churches, and they called him Father Hooper. Nearly
all his parishioners, who were of mature age when he
was settled, had been borne away by many a funeral.
He had one congregation in the church and a more
crowded one in the church yard. And having wrought so
late into the evening and done his work so well,

(17:41):
it was now good Father Hooper's turn to rest. Several
persons were visible by the shaded candlelight in the death
chamber of the old clergyman. Natural connections he had none.
But there was the decorously grave, though unmoved physician, seeking
only to mitigate the last pangs of the patient whom

(18:03):
he could not save. There were the deacons and other
eminently pious members of his church. There was the reverend
mister Clark from Westerbury. And there was the nurse whose
calm affection had endured thus long in secrecy, in solitude
amid the chill of age. This nurse was none other

(18:26):
but Elizabeth. And there lay the head of good Father
Hooper upon the death pillow, with the black veil still
swathed about his brow and reaching down over his face,
so that each difficult gasp of his faint breath caused
it to stir. All through his life, that piece of

(18:46):
crape had hung between him and the world. It had
separated him from cheerful brotherhood and woman's love, and kept
him in the saddest of all prisons his own heart.
Still it lay upon his face, as if to deepen
the gloom of his darksome chamber and shade him from

(19:07):
the sunshine of eternity. For some time previous, his mind
had been confused, wavering doubtfully between the past and the present.
There had been feverish turns which wore away what little
strength he had. But in his most convulsive struggles he
still showed an awful solicitude lest the black veil should

(19:29):
slip aside. At length, the death stricken old man lay quietly,
with an imperceptible pulse and breath that grew fainter and fainter.
The Minister of Westbury approached the bedside, who asked Hooper
if he would lift the veil at the moment of
his passing father. Hooper at first replied merely by a

(19:51):
feeble motion of his head, then exerted himself to speak.

Speaker 3 (19:55):
Yay, my soul, laugh a patient weariness until that veil
be lifted.

Speaker 2 (20:06):
The reverend mister Clark bent forward to reveal the mystery
of so many years, but exerting a sudden energy that
made all the beholders stand aghast. Father Hooper snatched up
both his hands from beneath the bedclothes and pressed them
strongly on the black veil, resolute to struggle. If the
Minister of Westbury would contend with a dying man, never,

(20:33):
never on earth, ever, Father Hooper's breath heaved, it rattled
in his throat, but with a mighty effort, grasping forward
with his hands, he caught hold of life and held
it back till he could speak. He even raised himself
in bed, and there he sat, shivering, with the arms

(20:54):
of death around him, while the black veil hung down,
awful at that last moment in the gathered terrors of
a lifetime. And yet the faint, sad smile so often
there now seemed to glimmer from its obscurity and linger
on Father Hooper's lips.

Speaker 3 (21:18):
Why do you tremble at me alone? Tremble also at
each other?

Speaker 2 (21:30):
Men?

Speaker 3 (21:32):
Have men avoided me? And women show no pity? And
children screamed and fled only for my black veil. What
but the mystery which it obscurely typifies, has made this
piece of crape so awful. When the friend shows his

(22:00):
nor most heart to.

Speaker 5 (22:02):
His friend, the lover to his best beloved, When man
does not.

Speaker 6 (22:13):
Vainly shrink from the eye of his creator, loathsomely treasuring
up the secret of his sin, then deem me a
monster for the symbol beneath which I have lived and die.

Speaker 4 (22:36):
I look around me, and low on every visit shay
black veil.

Speaker 2 (22:50):
Will those around him shrank from one another in mutual affright.
Father Hooper fell back upon his pillow, a veiled corpse,
with a faint smile lingering on his lips. Still veiled,
they laid him in his coffin, and a veiled corpse.
They bore him to the grave. The grass of many

(23:11):
years has sprung up and withered on that grave. The
burial stone is moss grown and good. Mister Hooper's face
is dust. But awful is still the thought that it
moldered beneath the black veil.

Speaker 1 (24:06):
The monsters do have their place in the zoo, in
your nightmares, in the deep, in your favorite horror movies,
but not on your phone during an ad break. Politically
motivated interests are seeking to influence you through the ads
placed on this podcast. Hi, I'm your host, Edward October,

(24:29):
reminding you that we have very limited control over the
ads you hear on October Pod. Please remember that only
the ads and promos I read with my own voice
carry the endorsement of Edward October and October Pod. Furthermore,
I and the makers of October Pod repudiate any entity
advertised which seeks to promote hatred, anti American or anti

(24:52):
democratic sentiments, or the spread of misinformation. Now with that
in mind, October Pod will return after this brief ad break.

(25:15):
It's intermission time, folks. I'm your host, mister Edward October.
Between the acts of this exceedingly ecclesiastical edition of October Pod,
I thought it would be a gas to do a
lightning round of me reading some true horror stories about
creepy churches cold from the most rancid recesses of Reddit.

(25:37):
Normally on October Pod. When we get our hands on
a good true story, we like to turn it into
a proper radio play in the hopes of elevating the
material for artistic and dramatic effect. But for the purposes
of this intermission, I'm going to credit the original submitters
and read the tales more or less as they appear

(25:57):
on Reddit. Haunted Church by Reddit user Crisco thirty one eighty.
My dad was a pastor at a church for four years.
Many people had died in this church before we got there.
Over the course of these four years, some of the craziest,

(26:17):
most unexplainable stuff had happened. I'm here to tell you
all a few of the best ones. My parents went
to Maine every year. I had gotten tired of the
trip and decided to stay home. I went over to
the church to grab some snacks from the back of
the old sanctuary. There were two sanctuaries. One was about
ninety years old and the newer one was about fifty

(26:40):
years old. I went to the back of it where
the snack booth was. Mind you, this was the middle
of the day, so it was completely lit up through
the old stained glass windows. I bent down to grab
some drinks from the mini fridge under the counter, and
when I got back up and turned to walk out
the door, I saw this figure standing in the doorway.

(27:03):
No eyes, no mouth, no nose, no ears, just a
bald head wearing a long dark robe. As soon as
I saw it, I vanished Like that safe to say,
I ran out of there as fast as humanly possible.
The same church had a preschool in it. They would
change the toys out in the classes every now and

(27:25):
then so the kids wouldn't get bored of the old ones.
One time, the teacher took one of the kids upstairs
to help her pick out some toys for the rest
of the class. These old classes upstairs were used for
storage of preschool toys, extra chairs, old desks at the time,
so there was no one else up there except them.

(27:45):
When the teacher was grabbing some toys, the kids she'd
brought up to help said, hey, look at those kids
playing with those toys over there, of course, and the
teacher looked around. There was no one. Church is haunted
pastor thinks were crazy by Reddit user winter Sage spelled

(28:08):
one T three R underscore S four G. Three years ago,
I was forced to go to a church event and
we all had a terrifying experience. The setup was this,
boys slept anywhere they wanted downstairs, and the girls slept
wherever they wanted upstairs, except some rooms were locked off

(28:30):
because the church was being renovated. Anyway, it didn't matter
too much as we were just a small group. Night
rolls around and us girls migrated into the nursery and
most of the guys just crashed in the small indoor
gym slash basketball court. Only one guy couldn't sleep. Above
the basketball court are windows to another room that was

(28:52):
locked off, and one of the guys kept seeing flashing
lights and the silhouettes of people looking down on him.
He didn't stay in the gym long. Around the same time,
myself and the other girls were playing Apples to Apples
in the nursery. The door was closed and next to
it was a one way window. Inside was like a mirror.

(29:13):
It was so kids didn't see their parents coming back
to check on them and make a fuss. Well, I
started hearing banging and scratching on the door. I freaked
and looked up to see two grinning faces staring back
at all of us. Remember we're on the mirror side.
Some one of us bolted toward the door, and we
hear stomping down the hall, but no one was there.

(29:37):
Pastor came up, screaming at us and saying we were
all just imagining it, but we know what we saw
and heard, and all of us refused to go back
janitor at haunted church. There are a number of tales

(29:58):
on Reddit about people cleaning haunted churches. Ready user may
bury one oh one writes, my dad used to be
a janitor for our old church. One night, we decided
to go in pretty late, around ten pm. Mind you,
the church was enormous. Long story short. We had just
finished cleaning all the downstairs bathrooms when all of a sudden,

(30:20):
the gem doors opened super loudly. We freaked out so
bad because no one other than the pastor had access
to the church. We had to deactivate the alarm to
get in, and we would reactivate it once inside just
to be safe. We finished up the last few things
we had to do and left super fast. The next morning,

(30:44):
we told one of our family friends who would sometimes
do us the favor of going in to clean whenever
we couldn't make it, and he told us he experienced
that very same thing, alongside lots of other creepy stuff.
He never told us because he feared that we wouldn't
believe him. It was truly scary. Readit. User agent skid

(31:04):
marks replied to this story, saying, my mom used to
work for a custodial company that cleaned churches. They're all haunted,
well most of them, at least within the first month
or so. She had an experience, and she called up
her boss to tell her what happened. Her boss just said,
I was wondering how long it would take you to
experience something then read it. User missus underscore mop replied

(31:29):
to this reply saying I can second this. My mom
runs a cleaning company. The church she cleans was haunted
as well. The girl's toilets had the most activity. I'd
always say hello whenever I walked in when I was alone.
Someone even spoke to my dad from the girl's toilets,
and my poor dad, who had no idea there was

(31:50):
no one in there, was chatting back until my mom
asked who he was talking to, and she explained nobody
else was in the building. I saw something in my
church as a kid by Reddit user rinkydk three. When
I was around the age of six, my mom started
to clean our church every week to help out. During

(32:11):
this time, we were renting a farmhouse, where me and
my two older brothers experienced quite a few paranormal events,
but my parents never gave it the light of day
due to them being very Christian and very conservative. One day,
my mom was cleaning the church and my brothers and
I tagged along. Since my dad was working while mom cleaned,
we decided to play hide and seek since the church

(32:33):
was empty. Eventually I was the seeker looking for my
brother and I remember walking down a long hallway. Since
the church was closed and my mom was just cleaning
the room where the sermons were held. All the other
lights were off except for emergency lights. When I was
walking in the very dim hall, for some reason, I
felt the need to look up, and from that moment

(32:56):
I can't get the image of what I saw out
of my head. There was an all black figure around
the size of a six or seven year old. The
figure was crawling on the ceiling, so I was looking
at its back. Only it had noticed me, so it
had twisted its head all the way round to see me.

(33:17):
The face was blurry because it was dark, but I
could make out an almost cartoonish smile staring at me,
and I remember its eyes being not human like at all.
The weird thing about this is, despite how creepy I
remember the figure being my six year old self was

(33:37):
not scared at all. I remember thinking to myself, how
did my brother get up there? Then I felt the
need to leave the hallway when I saw its face.
I didn't feel my stomach drop, nor did I feel
scared or threatened. It just felt like whatever I saw
wanted me to just move along. To this day, I
don't have any idea what it was. My brothers called

(33:59):
me crazy and said there can't be any demons in
a church since it's protected by God, and my parents agreed.
The older I get, the more I wonder if it
was just a dream that made itself a memory. I
don't really remember any other times we played hide and seek,
but this one really sticks out. Here's one about a

(34:21):
haunted Bible college from a deleted Reddit user. I went
to a private Christian university used to be an old
mall complex in the seventies, and if I remember right,
there had been at least a couple deaths prior to
it becoming a university. The dorms were an old hotel.
There'd be unexplained faces peering in photos, doors slamming bedshaking voices.

(34:44):
There were two specific dorm rooms where if you slept
in them you might wake up with scratches all over
your body. Somehow I became the one that people would
come to whenever they had one of these weird experiences.
I guess I didn't try to gaslight them into things
they'd imagined like the administration did. Everyone had a huge
sense that there was darkness hanging over the administration for years.

(35:07):
Then law and behold, the university president was outed for
doing some real shady shit. A couple years later he left,
and if you visit the campus now, it feels like
a completely different place. Lakeside Baptism by Reddit user Queen

(35:28):
note spelling. This didn't happen directly to us, but it
was a story we were told at an evening devotional service.
The guy telling it swears it happened. But I'm not
interested in if it happened or not, just that they
thought it was appropriate as an example. The guy telling
it swears it happened. This is how I remember it.

(35:50):
Going Pastor was leading baptism slash worship services down at
the lake. A young woman was standing in the lake
ready to be baptized. Ask her if she wants to
be close to God. She says yes. Then he asks
her how much does she want to be close to God,
and she's not sure how to answer, and then he

(36:10):
asks if she's ready to get baptized, so she says yes,
and the pastor dunks her into the water and puts
his hands on her head, and then he doesn't let
her back up. He holds her under the water until
she's flailing and panicking for air. He doesn't let her
up until she starts struggling for air. And the moral is,

(36:32):
if you want Jesus as much as you wanted air,
just now you're on the right path. I was thinking
about it again recently and just realized how fucked up
that was to tell a bunch of ten to twelve
year old kids not to mention if it was actually true.
The girl in the story, if she didn't drown, could
have died later from secondary drowning. And on that pleasant note,

(36:58):
I think it's about time I'm to tell another classic
horror story. Act too of October pod starts now. I
was shown into the attic chamber by a grave, intelligent
looking man with quiet clothes and an iron gray beard,

(37:18):
who said, yes, he lived here, but I don't advise
your doing anything. Your curiosity makes you irresponsible. We never
come here at night, and it's only because of his
will that we keep it this way. You know what
he did. That abominable society took charge at last, and
we don't know where he is buried. There's no way
the law or anything else can reach the society. I

(37:43):
hope you won't stay till after dark, and I beg
of you to let that thing on the table, that
thing that looks like a match box alone. We don't
know what it is, but we suspect it has something
to do with what he did. We even avoid looking
at it if we can. The Evil Clergyman written by H. P. Lovecraft,

(38:13):
narrated by Edward October. After a time, the man left
me alone in the attic room. It was very dingy
and dusty, and only primitively furnished, but it had a

(38:36):
neatness which showed it was not a slum denizen's quarters.
There were shelves full of theological and classical books, and
another bookcase containing treatises on magic, Paracelsus, Albertus, Magnus, Trithemius, Cornelius, Agrippa, Borellus,
and others in a strange alphabet whose titles I could

(38:56):
not decipher. The furniture was very plain. There was a door,
but it led only into a closet. The only egress
was the aperture in the floor, up to which the
crude steep staircase led. The windows were full of bull's
eye pattern, and the black oak beams bespoke unbelievable antiquity. Plainly,

(39:18):
this house was of the old world. I seemed to
know where I was, but I cannot recall what I
then knew. Certainly, the town was not London. My impression
is of a small seaport. The object on the table
fascinated me intensely. I seemed to know what to do
with it. For I drew a pocket sized electric light,

(39:40):
or what looked like one, out of my pocket and
nervously tested its flashes. The light was not white, but violet,
and seemed less like true light than like some radioactive bombardment.
I recall that I did not regard it as a
common flashlight. Indeed, I had a common flashlight in the
other pocket. It was getting dark, and the ancient roofs

(40:04):
and chimney pots outside looked very queer through the bull's
eye window panes. Finally, I summoned up courage and propped
the small object upon the table against a book, then
turned the rays of the peculiar violet light upon it.
The light seemed now to be more like a rain
of hail or small violet particles than like a continuous beam.

(40:28):
As the particle struck the glassy surface at the center
of the strange device, they seemed to produce a crackling noise,
like the sputtering of a vacuum tube through which sparks
are past. The dark glassy surface displayed a pinkish glow,
and of ague white shape seemed to be taking form

(40:49):
at its center. Then I noticed that I was not
alone in the room, and put the ray projector back
in my pocket. But the newcomer did not speak, nor
did did I hear any sound whatever. During all the
immediate following events, everything was shadowy pantomime, as if at
a vast distance through some intervening haze, although on the

(41:13):
other hand, the newcomer and all subsequent comers loomed large
and close, as if both near and distant. According to
some abnormal geometry, the newcomer was a thin, dark man
of medium height, attired in the clerical garb of the
Anglican Church. He was apparently about thirty years old, with

(41:34):
a sallow olive complexion and fairly good features, but an
abnormally high forehead. His black hair was well cut a
neatly brushed, and he was clean shaven, though blue chinned
with a heavy growth of beard. He wore rimless spectacles.
His build and lower facial features were like other clergymen

(41:57):
I had seen, but he had a vastly high forehead,
and was darker and more intelligent looking, also more subtly
and concealedly evil looking. At the present moment, having just
lighted my faint oil lamp, he looked nervous, and before
I knew it, he was casting all his magical books
into a fireplace on the window side of the room,

(42:19):
where the wall slanted sharply, which I had not noticed before,
And the flames devoured the volumes greedily, leaping up in
strange colors and emitting indescribably hideous odors. As the strangely
hieroglyphed leaves and wormy bindings succumbed to the devastating element.

(42:39):
All at once I saw there were others in the
room grave looking men in clerical costume, one of whom
wore the bands and knee breeches of a bishop. Though
I could hear nothing, I could see that they were
bringing a decision of vast import to the first comer.
They seemed to hate and fear him at the same time,

(43:00):
and he seemed to return these sentiments. His face set
itself into a grim expression, but I could see his
right hand shaking as he tried to grip the back
of a chair. The bishop pointed to the empty case
and to the fireplace, where the flames had died down
amidst a charred, noncommittal mass, and seemed filled with a
peculiar loathing. The first comer then gave a wry smile

(43:24):
and reached out with his left hand toward the small
object on the table. Everyone then seemed frightened. The procession
of clerics began filing down the steep stairs through the
trap door in the floor, turning and making menacing gestures
as they left. The bishop was last to go. The
first comer now went to a cupboard on the inner

(43:46):
side of the room and extracted a coil of rope.
Mounting a chair, He attached one end of the rope
to a hook in the great exposed central beam of
black oak, and began making a noose with the other end.
Realizing he was about to hang himself. I started forward
to dissuade or save him. He saw me and ceased

(44:07):
his preparations, looking at me with a kind of triumph
which puzzled and disturbed me. He slowly stepped down from
the chair and began gliding toward me, with a positively
wolfish grin on his dark, thin lipped face. I felt,
somehow in deadly peril, and drew out the peculiar ray
projector as a weapon of defense. Why I thought it

(44:30):
could help me, I do not know. I turned it
on full in his face and saw the sallow features
glow first with violet and then with pinkish light. His
expression of wolfish exultation began to be crowded aside by
a look of profound fear, which did not, however, wholly
displace the exultation. He stopped in his tracks, then, flailing

(44:54):
his arms wildly in the air, began to stagger backwards.
I saw he was edging toward the open stairwell in
the floor, and tried to shout a warning, but he
did not hear me. In another instant, he had lurched
backward through the opening and was lost to view. I
found difficulty in moving toward the stairwell, but when I

(45:17):
did get there, I found no crushing body on the
floor below. Instead, there was a clatter of people coming
up with lanterns, where the spell of phantasmal silence had broken,
and I once more heard sounds and saft figures as
normally tried dimensional. Something had evidently drawn a crowd to

(45:37):
this place, had there been a noise I had not
heard presently. The two people, simple villagers, apparently farthest in
the lead, saw me and stood paralyzed. One of them
shrieked loudly and reverberantly and muttered something unintelligible. Then they

(46:07):
all turned and fled frantically. All that is but one.
When the crowd was gone, I saw the grave bearded
man who had brought me to this place, standing alone
with a lantern. He was gazing at me gaspingly and fascinatedly,
but did not seem afraid. Then he began to ascend

(46:29):
to the stairs and joined me in the attic. He spoke,
so you didn't let it alone. I'm sorry. I know
what has happened. It happened once before, but the man
got frightened and shot himself. You ought not to have
made him come back. You know what he wants. But

(46:50):
you must get frightened like the other man he got.
Something very strange and terrible has happened to you, but
it didn't get far enough to hurt your mind and personality.
If you'll keep cool and accept the need for making
certain radical readjustments in your life, you can keep right
on enjoying the world and the fruits of your scholarship.

(47:12):
But you can't live here, and I don't think you'll
wish to go back to London. I'd advise America, you
mustn't try anything more with that thing. Nothing can be
put back now. It would only make matters worse to
do or summon anything. You're not as badly off as

(47:34):
you might be, but you must get out of here
at once and stay away. You'd better thank Heaven it
didn't go further. I'm going to prepare you as bluntly
as I can. There's been a certain change in your
personal appearance. He always causes that. But in a new country,
you can get used to it. There's a mirror up

(47:57):
at the other end of the room, and I'm going
to take you to it. You'll get a shock, though
you will see nothing repulsive. I was now shaking with
a deadly fear, and the bearded man almost had to
hold me up as he walked me across the room
to the mirror. And this is what I saw in

(48:18):
the glass, A thin, dark man of medium stature, attired
in the clerical garb of the Anglican Church, apparently about thirty,
and with rimless spectacles glistening beneath a sallow, olive forehead
of abnormal height. It was the silent first comer who

(48:40):
had burned his books. For all the rest of my
life in outward form, I was to be.

Speaker 3 (48:52):
That man.

Speaker 1 (49:46):
Stick around after the credits for a brief word from
some of our fellow indie podcasters, creators and friends. There
may even be some bloopers, outtakes, and bonus content as well.
You have been listening to October Pod. Octoberpod is produced,
edited and directed by Edward October. The series co producers
are m J McAdams and Amber Jordan. Logo and banner

(50:09):
graphics by Jessica good Edward October character design by Nick Calavera.
Select still photography courtesy of unsplash dot com. Select music
cues by Doctor dream Chip and various other stock music
and sound effects courtesy of freesound dot org. Music from
Bigfoot Apocalypse and Thorax theme from Octoberpod composed by Nico Vitaesi.

(50:34):
All other images, music, and FX cues, except where noted,
are sourced from within the public domain. Follow us on
YouTube at Octoberpod, home video, on Instagram and the app
I Still Call, Twitter at octoberpodvhs, and on TikTok and
blue Sky at Octoberpod. Or find us and all of

(50:54):
our links on the world wide Web at octoberpodvhs dot com.
For bil business inquiries or story submissions, email Octoberpod at
gmail dot com. If you enjoyed this program, we'd be
very pleased if you told your friends about us, and
while you're at it, ride us a five star or
equivalent review. Wherever you were listening, the man who spoke

(51:17):
to you was mister Edward October.

Speaker 7 (51:20):
Well, hey there, folks, welcome to Astronomica as stars for
that number actual play podcast.

Speaker 8 (51:25):
Our story takes place six centuries after the collapse of
an Intersellar empire as a band of nardo wells picked
through the ashes.

Speaker 9 (51:31):
We're not nar do wells.

Speaker 1 (51:33):
If anything, we're off to do wells.

Speaker 8 (51:35):
When have you ever done well?

Speaker 7 (51:36):
We've had more than one hundred and sixty episodes. There's
been tons of well doing.

Speaker 1 (51:41):
That's too much for him to go back through.

Speaker 7 (51:43):
Then he can listen to one of our regular synopsis
episodes and get all caught up on the backstory.

Speaker 8 (51:47):
Okay, fine, but you're rare do wells at best.

Speaker 7 (51:50):
Guys, do you think we should scrap Astronomica and just
make a show called Rare do well?

Speaker 6 (51:56):
Yes?

Speaker 8 (51:56):
Yes, obvious, No, yes, We've had more than three years
of zany characters, unique planets, and novel sci fi situations.
We've built an awesome and inclusive fan community. We are
not starting over.

Speaker 7 (52:07):
Okay, but I mean Astronomica kind sucks. Rare do Wells
sounds awesome.

Speaker 8 (52:12):
Don't listen to them. Astronomica is great. We're really proud
of it. Check us out on a podcast of your choice,
or visit Astronomica podcast dot com.

Speaker 10 (52:19):
Excelsior in the Heartland of America where the great planes
stretch far and wide lies a region shrouded in mystery,
where the unsolved and the unknown linger. Welcome to Cold
Case Kansas, the true crime podcast that delves into the
unsolved cases across Kansas and its surrounding states. This podcast
was born out of a personal quest for justice. My

(52:42):
friend Christa Martin's thirty four year old unsolved case was
finally cracked, and in it we've found answers. Now we
want to help others. We'll explore the crimes that have
haunted communities for decades, searching for answers and seeking justice.
Join me on this journey as we shed light on
the cold cases that have gone unsolved for far too long.

(53:02):
Cold Case Kansas Seeking justice, one case at a time.
You can find us wherever you strength podcasts. You can
also find us on TikTok, threads, Facebook, Instagram. If it's
social media, you can find us there.

Speaker 2 (53:17):
I can't subscribe.

Speaker 9 (53:19):
Do you love the strange, the unexplained, and the downright terrifying?
Horrifying History takes you on a chilling journey into the
dark corners of the past, where history and horror collide.
From haunted places and ghostly legends to unsolved mysteries and
terrifyingly true stories. You will uncover the twisted facts that

(53:40):
history books leave out. Who were the real monsters behind
infamous legends? What dark secrets lie buried in the pages
of history. Every episode we reveal the eerie truths that
will send shivers down your spine. Are you brave enough
to face the darkness? Horrifying history available now wherever you

(54:03):
listen to your podcasts, But don't wait for too long.
The past might just come looking for you. Listen if
you dare.

Speaker 3 (54:16):
So.

Speaker 1 (54:17):
I'm recording this the day after I'm pausing for air
traffic to pass, and I'm recording this the day after
that helicopter crashed into the airliner above Washington, d C.
And the sound of air traffic is a lot more
ominous to me today than it normally is. I'd always

(54:37):
say hello. And when I walked in, when I was alone,
the ministers and you had fucked that up. All the
other girls were off except for emergency lights. What the
setup was This? Boys slept anywhere they wanted downstairs, and
the girls were free to sleep where there. Wow, what

(55:01):
a fucking shit brick of the sentence. The setup was this?
The boys slept anywhere they wanted downstairs, and the girls
were free to sleep wherever they wanted downstairs. Upstairs, motherfucker.
Then lo and behold the university. Let me try this
with an accent. Let me try this with this southern accent.

(55:23):
It's kind of funny. Something had evidently drawn a chord
to this place. The chord. Fucking chord. Alright, I'm done
with that one.

Speaker 3 (56:01):
Nothing