Scary Stories For A Rainy Night - Ep. 189 - Unknown Caller - Scary Stories and Rain

Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
Hey, welcome to Scary Stories and Rain.
I really hope you enjoyed this episode.
And don't forget you can subscribe to this podcast for
just 299 a month. You can get rid of all of the
irritating ads and be automatically entered to win a
Nintendo Switch to Mario Kart bundle.
Only 299 a month, no more ads. I have all the info you need in

(00:21):
the description to this episode.And one last thing, thank you so
much for being here. I really hope you enjoy.
For context and posterity, the current date is October 7th,
2021. I am bringing you back to the
year 1999 / 20 years in the past, back when cellular phones

(00:47):
meant nothing. The world thought an imminent
Armageddon was coming on the night of December 31st at
midnight. I was 16 years old.
What I saw one cold October night is as fresh to me then as
it is now. Bear with me as I set the stage
for you. I grew up in a remote area of

(01:08):
the Midwest. My home was on a hill all by its
lonesome, surrounded by farmlandon three sides and endless acres
of woods. After the fields of wheat, corn,
or whatever we planted that season, the woods were dense and
foreboding. We would not be out there after
dark. A lonely 2 lane Rd. was the only

(01:30):
way in or out of our place. Old County Road 577 it was
called. An amazing thing happened right
around my 16th birthday. The Internet.
We had a computer already, maybefor a few years or so.
This was huge in my little area of the world.
We didn't have much money, but Ithink my parents could foresee

(01:53):
how important to PC would be forme and my brothers.
They barely used it, but man, wewere off to the races.
I guess it must have been a Dellor a Gateway, which were huge
back then. Windows 95 was the operating
system for anyone born in my generation.
Just remember when that Windows brick maze screensaver came on.

(02:17):
The nostalgia is strong with that one.
To the newer folks in the Gen. Z crowd, just having a computer
was a thrill. The Internet wasn't a thought
quite yet, not to us normal people at least.
We had quite enough fun just playing PC games, typing silly
stories and using Ms. Paint. If you had a printer, you could

(02:40):
also make those giant banners with the clip art and funny
fonts. I remember making a banner that
said Broncos because I was rooting for them to win one of
the Super Bowls. Around that time every letter
took up one page. Those 7 letters drained our
printer of ink. Different times for sure.
I might be getting off topic, sorry.

(03:02):
I was just drowning in late 90s fields.
I guess the point I'm getting atis that being in that era of
owning the tuned up PCs was awesome.
These weren't your 1980s computers that ran one program.
They were easy to learn and could do many things.
The Internet, however, changed everything.

(03:25):
Yes, understatement of the century, I know.
Another interesting thing is that we grew up without the
finely tuned and polished searchengines that we use today.
You didn't Google anything, you couldn't type in sports, in
Yahoo or whatever. Yes, the search engines were
very soon to come. The ones you could use were very

(03:47):
shoddy and hard to find anything.
Not like the complete ease we enjoy today.
My dad changed our entire livingroom around the computer.
He built a computer desk with plenty of shelves and perfectly
sized cut outs for the computer monitor, sliding drawer for the
keyboard, etcetera. He also installed a sliding

(04:08):
glass door close to where the computer was.
So while playing one of the earliest point and click PC
games, we can enjoy the vast outdoor landscape and have an
easy exit from the home to take a leak.
Hey, our nearest neighbor was over 2 miles away and there were
four of us boys in the home. The first time we tried getting

(04:30):
online was painful. The only Internet provider in
that time was just as new at this than anyone else.
We sat and listened to that now iconic dial up dubstep tone
hoping for magic. We got nothing.
We tried for weeks to get connected.
We didn't know what we were missing.
It's not like now if your Internet goes down, you know.

(04:54):
But once we got on, man, it was on.
The rest is history. Here I was staying up late at
night surfing the web, quote UN quote, finding websites that was
accessing the information from around the world.
And here at home in the US back then, you might see a commercial

(05:14):
on Saturday morning telling you to join them on the World Wide
Web and provide their address. Like I said, you pretty much had
to have the URL correct to find things.
If there was a sports show on, they might tell you to go to the
Sports Illustrated site for kidsand provide that long URL.
Now we all know you could just Google SI Kids or something like

(05:35):
that and find it in .0001 seconds.
Being connected felt great. Where I lived was a vast,
unforgiving and kind of lonely. The worst thing that no one
talked about was that it was just plain creepy.
There was no St. lights after dark where I lived.

(05:56):
The long county roads were emptyat night.
When a car did travel up that road, I usually stayed still in
my room. I hated seeing the reflection of
their headlights slowly light upthe upstairs window.
No one should be on that road that late.
Maybe besides truck drivers, buteven then we were so out of the

(06:17):
way of any major city or freeway.
There shouldn't even be commercial drivers out there.
I know you're probably confused by what the hell all this
rambling is. Getting to it is all related.
The advent of the Internet to mydaily life as a young man
brought with it a renewed interest in scary stories,
movies, and the like. I already loved renting horror

(06:41):
movies from town about 20 minutes away.
When I could, I rented scary books from the library.
My friends and I made-up our ownurban legends for fun.
Now I could access horror movie lore, serial killer stories, and
anything my little teenage braincould think of.
Being in such a secluded area, this didn't exactly help my

(07:04):
anxiety about my scary surroundings.
Sitting at that computer with the giant sliding door to my
right, I only saw darkness. We didn't have curtains yet at
that time. One night, at around 1:00 AM, if
I had to guess, I saw something I think about almost every day
of my life. I can't explain it, and I'm

(07:26):
still terrified of it. I was online by myself.
Everyone else was asleep. I was probably playing a flash
game or looking up sports stats.I heard the low rumble of a
vehicle coming in the distance that always got me on high
alert. As I mentioned, I could get a
sense of the vehicle coming and just hoped it would pass by the

(07:48):
sliding door without any kind ofincident.
There was an incident. A small red pickup truck, maybe
a Ford Ranger, skidded off the road maybe 100 or so yards from
our house. I was looking at the rear of the
vehicle. I quickly shut the living room
light off and the computer monitor.

(08:08):
I just knew this wasn't going tobe good.
I huddled close to the window, trying to hide as much as myself
as I could. Realistically, I'm sure no one
could see me from that far away,but I could see them.
Two men busted out of the truck.The driver was a burly man.

(08:28):
He wore a Plaid long sleeve and a puffy vest over it.
Typical looking northern hillbilly.
He quickly moved to the passenger side, yanking the door
open. He could have ripped the door
off the hinges with the force heused.
He grabbed a smaller man out of the truck by his collar and
tossed him to the ground. At this point, my little heart

(08:51):
was racing. The passenger was clearly the
inferior man in the duo. The driver threw the tailgate
and grabbed a shovel. He tossed it to the passenger,
hitting him in the hands as the shovel fell to the ground.
The passenger looked terrified. The driver grabbed what looked
like a burlap sack out of the back.

(09:12):
He tossed it to the passenger forcefully, but this time the
smaller guy caught it. Even from this distance, I could
see the look on the inferior man's face.
His eyes were wide, he was probably crying with snot coming
down from his nose. His expression said please don't
do this. He was pleading with exaggerated

(09:35):
hand movements. He seemed to plead for some
time. Please don't make me do this, is
what he was conveying. The burly man pointed at the
ground. I couldn't make out what he was
saying, but it seemed like he was saying dig.
The passenger reluctantly started digging.

(09:57):
After about 5 to 10 minutes, theburly man stopped his partner
and pointed at the burlap sack that now sat on the ground.
He then pointed at the ground. The now defeated digger kicked
the sack into the fresh hole in the ground.
The sack looked like it could hold a bowling ball or a human
head. That's all I could think of.

(10:19):
I am watching someone bury a human head on our property.
The man with the shovel buried the head or sack, filling up the
hole with The Dirty just excavated.
The driver grabbed the man, pushing him back into the truck.
He threw the shovel in the back of the pickup and speed off.
After what seemed like an eternity, I took a huge breath,

(10:42):
realizing I probably have been holding it in for the entire
transaction. Gasping for air, I ran up to my
room on the second floor of our house.
I was dripping with sweat. I didn't even realize how
terrified I was. Did they see me?
Why did they choose to stop right there by one of the only

(11:02):
houses within miles? I hope I was just overreacting,
but what the hell else could these random guys be burying at
this time of night? I remember it being cold,
probably not winter because the ground would have been frozen,
but it was not pleasant out. What drove these guys out here?

(11:22):
I didn't want to know. I've only told this story to a
few people and they all asked the same question.
Did you go to see what it was the next day?
The answer is simple. Hell no.
I didn't have the stones to look.
That curiosity has always stayedwith me.

(11:43):
I couldn't say for sure who those guys were.
Nothing like this happened before or after.
I won't say the cliche thing of like it haunts me every single
day or anything, but I do think of it often.
I think the worst part is a few days after this happened I saw a
dirt covered shovel in our barn.A small amount of what looks

(12:06):
like dry blood dotted the tip ofthe shovel.
I never mentioned this, but my dad never allowed us to enter
the barn. He said it wasn't safe, I
shouldn't have seen what happened and I shouldn't have
gone into the barn. I can't question my dad, he died
a long time ago. Even worse is that my dad did

(12:28):
own a small pickup truck at thattime.
I never put it together until much later.
Maybe it's all a huge coincidence.
My dad was a good man. He was a simple farmer.
We were able to afford luxuries that most farm folk couldn't
though, like expensive computersand Internet access before

(12:49):
anyone else. Just a coincidence, right?
The stranger was walking down the quiet rural St. dressed in a

(13:11):
suit and tie. It was midnight.
I had just gotten home from a night out with my friends when I
saw the stranger shuffling past my house.
Hey. Buddy, you all right?
I hollered from the front porch.The stranger ignored me and kept
walking. I briefly considered shrugging

(13:32):
off the oddity and heading indoors, but I could not shake
the feeling that something was wrong.
I know most of the people who live along the road, some are
even relatives, so I couldn't ingood conscience ignore my gut.
I climbed back into my car, thinking it would be a good
barrier between the stranger andme if he were to try anything,

(13:54):
and took off in pursuit. He hadn't gotten far when I
rolled up to him, cracking the passenger window and asked.
Are you OK? The stranger was drenched in
sweat and staring distantly through fogged glasses.
He looked to be in his early 40s, maybe younger.

(14:14):
Sir, I said, did your car breakdown somewhere without
looking at me? The man quietly answered No.
Are you staying nearby? There was a momentary pause,
followed by another quiet no. I kept my car rolling at the
stranger's pace, observing his shaking hands.

(14:38):
He appeared anxious. Whether that was because of me
or something else, I do not know, but his behavior did
nothing but give further cause for concern.
Do you need me to call someone? No.
I watched him quietly for another moment, then asked him

(14:58):
something that every fiber in meopposed.
Do you need a ride? The man stopped walking.
I pressed on the brakes and cameto a halt beside him.
He stood silent, his chest puffing in and out with each
breath, then turned only his head and said no.

(15:21):
He turned his gaze back to the road ahead and continued
walking. I did not follow.
To put my mind at ease, I hurried back past my place and
over to my cousins. She lives only three houses down
for me. Usually she and her family are
in bed around 10:00 or so, but this time I was surprised to

(15:43):
find that the lights were still on.
I went up to the door and knocked a couple of times.
Her husband, Dan, carefully cracked the door, saw that it
was me, then relaxed. Hey, Scott.
Hey, Dan. I said, looking at the shotgun
hanging by his side. Something got you spooked.

(16:05):
Dan sighed a little. Come on in.
I stepped inside. Where's Katie?
I'm right here. Katie whispered as she crept out
of the kids room and quietly shut the door.
What are you doing here so late?Well, I scratched the back of my

(16:25):
head. There's a guy dressed in a suit
and tie walking down the road and acting kind of strange.
Came from this way. I just wanted to make sure
everyone was OK. Dan and Katie exchanged glances,
then Katie said. I think he might have been over
here earlier. What do you mean?

(16:46):
I was. In the backyard with the dogs,
letting them do their business before bed.
When I heard whistling. Whistling.
Yeah, like a person whistling a tune.
I glanced over at Dan, and he nodded.
You know, we got that fence backthere now so that the dogs don't
wander off. And so I couldn't see anyone,

(17:07):
but I could hear that they were moving right along the perimeter
of the fence. A chill ran through me.
Did the dogs freak out? That's the weirdest part.
They didn't. They bark at just about anything
and any other time, but this time they just continued
sniffing the grass like the whistling wasn't even happening.

(17:28):
What did you do? I ran.
Inside and told Dan and he went outside and looked, searched the
whole yard and didn't see anybody, Dan added.
Did you check the road? Yep, walked down to the end of
the driveway and looked both ways.
Nothing think it. Might have been a bird.

(17:51):
Katie shook her head. No.
Way this was a person. Maybe we should call the cops.
Katie and Dan agreed and Dan pulled out his cell phone and
called 911. We gave the dispatcher the
stranger description and they told us they would send a unit
to check it out. I'm going to get in my car and

(18:12):
see if I can find him, I said after Dan hung up.
Don't do anything stupid, Scott.Katie begged.
I'm not, I just want to get eyeson him.
I. Headed over to the door and
Katie stopped me. Why don't you stay here tonight?
I turned and smiled. I'll be all right, plus I've got

(18:34):
to go. Let the dog out.
Bring him over here with you. I hugged Katie and stepped out
to the car. I'll.
Call you when I see him. Katie didn't argue any further
and waved goodbye like I had taken her heart and wouldn't be
bringing it back anytime soon. Once I reached my house, I once

(18:55):
again continued past in search of the stranger.
It was reasonable to assume he'dbe well down the road by then,
but I ended up driving much further than he would have
gotten on foot without even finding the slightest hint of
him. Instead, I found the deputy.
I slowed down next to his car and rolled down my window.

(19:17):
A mustache deputy looked back atme.
I told him that we had been the ones who had called and the
stranger didn't seem to be on the road anymore.
The deputy said he'd keep looking and then we parted ways.
Wasn't much else for me to do but go home, so I did just that.
I pulled up the gravel driveway,shut off the car and headed

(19:39):
inside. Opening the door spooked the
dog. It usually does, but his barking
subsided when I flicked on the lights.
Hey, boy. I said, petting him.
I held the door open and let himrun outside to wet the grass.
I stood beneath the starlit sky watching the dog sniff the earth

(20:01):
when I heard a whistling tune come from behind the house.
It carried through the air like a wind swept song, but this was
a night when the trees were still and there wasn't a breeze
to be felt. The melody became clearer and
floated around the house. Seemingly to my side, it was

(20:23):
indiscernibly human, and the dogdid not bark.
I hurried the dog inside, grabbed a baseball bat I keep by
the door, and went around the house, tense and ready to swing.
Every shadow seemed a trespasserthat night, every falling branch
and rustling leaf, every hootingowl and chirping cricket hopping

(20:48):
rabbit and creeping raccoon. But none of it was the stranger
in the suit. I'd called Katie after I heard
the whistle and told her as much.
I said that the deputy was out looking, but by morning it
became clear that the stranger was never found and that was
that. Or so we thought.

(21:12):
Mr. Weston lived 2 houses down for me and for as long as I can
remember had been a paraplegic, wheelchair bound and all alone.
Mr. Weston was the last person you'd expect to hang himself.
But two days after we had heard the whistling, Mr. Weston was
found hanging from a tree behindhis house that he undoubtedly

(21:33):
could not have reached on his own.
Detective said he looked like hehad been hanging there for a
couple of days. It doesn't end there.
Two houses down from Mr. Weston's place lived a young man
and his wife. They are both healthy as could
be and both are Coast Guard veterans, spent a lot of time in

(21:53):
the water. And despite all that, they were
found dead in their bathtub the day after Mr. Weston was found
hanging from a tree, drowned andmaybe you guessed, but from the
looks of it, they had been in there for about 3 days.
There's a commonality we discovered since then of those

(22:15):
of us along the road who are still living.
Someone in their household heardthe whistling that night.
They heard it, they investigatedand they found nothing.
Could it be that the three who died never heard the whistling?
I don't sleep well anymore, too afraid I will miss the whistling

(22:37):
tune. A whistle.
No dog hears a warning they cannot give.

(22:58):
I had just turned 21 and frequented the bars regularly.
In hindsight, I probably spent too much time drinking with my
friends. I didn't have a car or a cell
phone and I lived on the outskirts of town.
It was a 45 minute walk downtown.
The town I live in is generally a very safe place.

(23:18):
It is wealthy well to do white bread community, so walking home
alone at night after drinking was nothing that bothered me
other than the actual walking. It was a Tuesday night and that
meant pints were cheap, so I wouldn't say I was completely
wasted, but I certainly was morethan tipsy.
Instead of walking home along the sidewalk where I feared I'd

(23:40):
be picked up by the police for being drunk in public, I decided
to take the bike path that ran along the train tracks.
This meant that the walk would take longer, but much safer and
less likely I'd run into any sort of trouble.
Or so I thought. The bike path was not very lit,
and knowing what I know now, I should have been a lot more

(24:00):
nervous about walking alone in the complete darkness at 2:00 in
the morning. Like I said, I had just turned
21 and was certainly an arrogantyoung male who was thinking
about women and not minding my surroundings.
I had taken this path many nights and coming across anybody
else was rare. If I did perchance come across

(24:21):
somebody this late at night, most of the time it was just
another drunk college student who had the same thoughts as me.
Either that or they were homeless, but if so I'd say they
were all harmless. So this night as I'm walking, I
noticed further down the path with somebody walking towards
me. He wore a large hiking backpack

(24:42):
and his hoodie pulled over his head.
It was so dark I couldn't see their face.
I could really only just barely make out their outline.
This person's gait unquestionably revealed him to
be a male who I figured was probably just a transient.
It was odd to see somebody walking towards downtown at 2:00
in the morning. When I got really close to him

(25:04):
and we were about to cross paths, this person just stopped
dead in his tracks and I could tell he was staring at me
because his head just followed me as I walked by.
It creeped me out a bit and I certainly felt like that was a
bit odd. As I continued to walk,
shrugging at the situation, I just didn't feel right.

(25:24):
Something in my gut made me feelwrong.
I stopped and turned around to see this person still staring at
me. What?
I asked him as I stopped walkingand remained to stare back at
him. That's when he hissed at me like
a snake, a long vicious soundinghiss that made the hair on the

(25:44):
back of my neck stand up. I'd hoped that he was just being
weird or perhaps was on meth or something.
I nervously laughed a bit and said OK and continued to walk
on. I made it a few more steps and
turned to look back. He somehow managed to get closer
to me without making a sound. He stood completely still.

(26:06):
I figured perhaps I was just drunk and imagining things.
I turned back around and walked.Taking a few more steps, I
turned around once more. Now I knew he was closer.
I couldn't believe I couldn't hear him approaching behind me.
What unsettled me even more was how every time I turned around

(26:28):
he had managed to stop and standcompletely still.
Are you following me, buddy? Once again he let out this
creepy hiss, just staring at me.Now I was freaked out and had
this strange sensation that I was some sort of prey.
Hey, screw you man. I now yelled.

(26:49):
In hindsight this was a bad idea, but because I already felt
like I was some sort of target and the last thing I should have
been wanting to do is provoke this sick twisted bastard.
I started backing away at this point, not taking my eyes off of
him. He just stood there hissing.
The hisses were getting longer, louder and more malice was

(27:11):
apparent in him. He started to hiss louder and
louder. He began to engage in some sort
of pursuit. At first they were basic steps
but the further I backed away the more he speed up taking
bigger steps towards me. I said forget this to myself I'm
getting out of here. I naked it out of there and

(27:33):
began into full-fledged run. He started running after me.
I could hear his heavy boots gaining on me, hissing like a
cat, growling like a dog. I feel his spit hitting me in
the back of the neck. Get away from me, I yelled.
I might have peed myself. I was so scared.
All I could think to do was run as fast as I could and to get

(27:56):
inside of my house as quickly aspossible.
I have always been a very fast runner, but this guy was much
taller than me and his legs werereally long so he was really
cutting down the distance between him and me.
I managed to keep a good five between us though, checking back
behind me as I saw his arms reaching out in an attempt to

(28:17):
grab me. I finally made it out of the
bike path and onto the crossing sidewalk of the street that was
lit up by St. lamps and a few passing cars.
I was so relieved to finally make it back to civilization.
There was a gas station over by my house and I thought that I
would run to the safety of its inside only to see that the

(28:37):
lights had been shut off and thedoors were closed.
It was closed. I had to make it to my house.
As I got closer to my house, I could see that my roommate's
lights were on through the window.
Chris. Chris.
I shouted. Chris, open the door.
Open the door. I am impressed.

(28:58):
I yelled loud enough that he actually heard me.
I saw the front door of my houseopen up and my roommate just
standing at the doorway looking confused.
I ran up the steps and almost jumped inside my house, slamming
the door shut behind me. Dude, what are you running from?
He asked you. You didn't see the guy chasing

(29:18):
me? No.
I ran to the window and looked outside.
He was gone. I have no idea what happened to
him, but I am sure that this really happened.
Whoever that guy who hissed at me was really shook me up and I
never walked down that bike pathafter dark anymore.

(29:53):
Years ago when I first started to live alone, I hoped for only
a few things. Reasonable rent, a decent
landlord and a set of normal neighbors.
It turns out the last one was the hardest to ask for.
The walls are thin in most of these old apartment buildings,
some thinner than others. After I moved in, I noticed a

(30:18):
distinct wailing from the unit next door each and every night.
It sounded like an older woman in a great deal of distress.
But it wouldn't go on forever. It would only last about two
hours. Whether it was 8 to 10:00 PM or
7 to 9, or even 6 to 8, it was always two hours.

(30:40):
At first, I decided being a goodneighbor meant leaving her alone
to cry in peace. Maybe it was part of her daily
routine. Cook and eat dinner, watch
Matlock and weep for two hours. Crying is the only way some
people know how to display emotion.
It could have been cathartic forher, but only to a certain

(31:03):
point. After almost a month, the
wailing continued on and on. Eventually, I was embarrassed to
invite friends over, worried shewould begin her miserable
routine at any time. It was at this point I decided
the way to be a good neighbor was to check in on her.

(31:23):
On about the 15th night in that apt, I muted my TV, took a deep
breath, and headed one door downthe hall to introduce myself.
I delivered 3 consistent knocks with my knuckle on the wooden
red door with the number 19 pinned to the center.
As soon as the third knock rang out, the wailing stopped.

(31:46):
For a moment there was just silence.
Then a seemingly scripted commotion began.
The woman started speaking to someone.
Gerald, I think someone's at thedoor.
Someone, presumably Gerald, whispered back.

(32:07):
Will. You please get it.
I've. Got a kettle on the stove?
The whispers grew louder to beatout the kettles hissing.
A television blared what soundedlike a football game, but it was
May at the time, maybe a rerun. The chatter continued and got
short and guttural, as if they were arguing.

(32:30):
Oh. Fine, one minute, I'll be right
there. She called out in a shaky old
voice. A few moments later I heard a
chain sliding and falling and a deadbolt clicking back.
Then the door creaked open. I looked down to see my neighbor
hunched over with a silky purplepolka dot nightgown draped over

(32:53):
her shapeless body and a strap around the back of her lumpy
neck that connected to the thickreading glasses covering her
eyes. Her face looked rather young for
the rest of her hunched figure. Something smelled rancid, but I
couldn't tell whether it was heror the apartment at first.

(33:13):
It smelled like my parents basement right after that big
flood from when I was 5. Hello.
She said in the sort of sweet grumble.
Hi. I replied, suddenly at a loss
for words. My name is Nick.
I'm your neighbor. I, I just moved in next door, I

(33:35):
mean a couple of weeks ago, and I heard some crying coming from
your apartment. I just wanted to see if
everything was OK. She waited a moment and
sniffled. Oh.
Hello, Nick. I'm Wilma Quincy, and I've lived
here for. She placed a hand on her chest,
which caused her nightgown to ripple, and looked off pensively

(33:58):
into the hallway, as if remembering a lifetime of
sorrows. Well, a long.
Time. It's a pleasure to meet you,
Miss Quincy. And is everything OK in here?
Yes, of course. Why do you ask?
It's. Just that I've been hearing
crying every night for the last couple of weeks since I moved in

(34:21):
and I wanted to make sure everything was OK.
I looked over her ghostly nightgown figure into the
apartment to see very little. There was a brown leather couch
in the middle of the room that had seen its fair share of
years, with a cheap floor lamp beside it craned over the far
cushion. But other than that there was

(34:41):
nothing. No pictures of family, no art on
the walls, no coffee tables or end tables or even a rug to
cover up that warped wooden floor.
Oh, that, she said with a dismissive click.
Rick, I'm an old, old woman and.Sometimes I just forget things.

(35:05):
I do apologize if my crying is keeping you awake.
Not at all, but sometimes in my old age I forget things A.
Lot of things. And see, my kids live far away
now, and my husband passed a long time ago.
And when you get to be my age, you've seen a lot of people and

(35:28):
things come and go. Now I just don't have much see.
And when? I lose things.
It's just one more thing I don'thave, and then I worry if I lose
the last thing I could rely on. My mind.
I'll lose my independence too. Then I'll.
Have nothing. It may sound dramatic, but the

(35:52):
sieve is my mind in a way. They.
Seem to be disappearing together.
I was unexpectedly moved by her explanation.
I almost wanted to cry too. You're sieve.
I could. Help you look for it, Pish posh.
It's water off a duck's back. No, really, it's, it's no

(36:16):
problem. She thought for a moment, then
tilted her head. Well, if you don't mind.
Miss Quincy focused hard on her feet as she shuffled the side to
clear the doorway. I stepped into the apartment and
a stronger waft of that putrid stench assaulted my nostrils

(36:38):
when I spoke. I tried to keep my sentences
short and use as little breath as possible in order to not
breathe in more of it. What's a sieve?
You. Know that thing?
The one you used to drain water when you're done cooking pasta.
I was. Just pressing my ravioli and I

(36:59):
swear I took the strainer out and placed it right on the
cabinet over there, but by the time the water was done boiling,
I couldn't find it anymore. I held the collar of my shirt
over my nose and pinched it tightly.
Except when I was talking to her.
Based on where she looked when we spoke, I got the sense that

(37:19):
her vision wasn't too strong. She was staring at the wall.
It was dark, but I thought I noticed a black spot on the
wall. OK.
I'll look for it. It's.
About this big, she said, using her hands and round and silver.
And my sister's husband got it for me when he used to work at

(37:42):
Williams-sonoma out in the mall in New Jersey.
I've. Had it for 15 years.
It's the same one I used to teach Katie, my granddaughter,
how to cook spaghetti. We've had that recipe in my
family for generations now. My mother's mother.
Her mother brought the recipe all the way from a chef she knew

(38:03):
in Milano, and he was the sweetest guy.
He got married to Alessandra from Napoli.
She continued on like this for the whole 10 minutes.
I looked for the strainer and for the whole 10 minutes she
stared at that spot on the wall.But there was no strainer and
frankly not too many places to look.

(38:26):
Her apartment was about the samesize as mine, A1 bed, 1 bath,
only it was much less cluttered.The kitchen was small and
crammed, so only one of us couldbe in there at a time, and most
of the cabinets I opened had nothing in them.
One had a few glasses, one had two plates, and the rest were

(38:49):
empty. I wondered how she could cook
anything with what she had, never mind the strainer, and
that smell became unbearable after a short while.
And when it did I finally said. I'm sorry Miss Quincy, I can't
seem to find it. You and me both.
She sighed. That's.

(39:11):
Quite all right, you've been lovely company.
Which apartment do you live in? 17, I said, halfway out the
door. 17 If I lose anything else, could I trouble you to
help me again? Sure, no problem, I said,

(39:32):
relieved to breathe the fresher air in the hall.
All. Right, thank you, Mick.
I hope we have better luck next time.
You've been so kind. Have a lovely evening.
Thanks. You too.
And the door clicked shut. I took a gasp of fresh air in,

(39:53):
and when I managed to collect myself, a few aspects of her
apartment began to trouble me. It was similar in layout to
mine, but empty. So, so empty.
How could anyone live like that?Most old women I know have too
much stuff, not too little. And then I remember that kettle

(40:16):
she talked about before opening the door.
It wasn't there. The stove was clean as a
whistle. And not Even so much as a fork
was left out. There was no sign of anyone had
used the kitchen that night, if ever.
And something else was missing. Even more perplexing than the
shrieking kettle. The other person, she was

(40:39):
talking to someone before she opened that door.
I know she was, but as far as I saw, for the 10 minutes I was in
there, she lived alone. And then there was that black
spot on the wall, not larger than a golf ball.
She kept looking at it and studying it, but not in an I

(41:00):
need to get that checked out way.
She almost admired it. She smiled at it between
sentences, held her heart over the nightgown as if she found it
charming. I shivered at the thought, but
eventually managed to shake it until I saw her again.

(41:21):
Over the next few weeks, I received a number of knocks on
my door. Miss Quincy seemed to remember
which apt I lived in without a problem, but could never get my
name right. The first time she came over,
she said she was missing her NewYorker magazine.
We looked for it, just as we didfor The Strainer, high and low.

(41:42):
All the while, she told me abouthow long she was subscribed to
The New Yorker and how her late husband Gerald used to write for
them, but we never found it. I asked her if she still paid
for the subscription and she stopped with a shaky finger
suspended in the air and thoughtfor an awkwardly long time
before declaring. I.

(42:04):
Don't remember. A few nights later, Miss Quincy
said she lost her Aricept prescription, a common
medication to treat Alzheimer's.This time I found it, but only
the empty orange bottle with thelabel shredded up in an
animalistic manner. It was just beneath that black

(42:25):
spot on the wall, which I swear was growing larger.
If it was only the size of a golf ball the first time, it was
closer to that of a basketball. When I found her pill bottle the
next time she came over, Miss Quincy was in tears.
She told me that she had gone grocery shopping that morning,

(42:46):
but when she got back from physical therapy, all her food
was missing. Indeed, her pantry and
refrigerator were both empty aside from a year expired box of
rice. This was the first time I can
remember knowing rice could expire, but what was funny was I
couldn't remember seeing the rice when I looked for the

(43:07):
strainer. At the end of that short search,
we concluded she hadn't been to the food store at all, and as I
left with that foul odor wrestling my nose, I caught a
glimpse of that black spot. It was definitely larger.
It couldn't be measured by the size of any sports ball anymore.

(43:28):
It was closer to the size of a small child.
The rough shape of one, too. It had to be water damage or
something terrible to 'cause that kind of rot in the wall.
I emailed our landlord that night for her, but he never
responded. The next time Miss Quincy showed
up at my door, she was more panicked than ever.

(43:50):
She was still wearing a nightgown, but no glasses this
time. She was shaking, freezing
almost, and her droopy eyes darted side to side as she
spoke. I I lost my grandchildren, she
said. What do you mean, Miss Quincy?

(44:11):
Where are your ears, Nathan? I lost my grandchildren, she
snapped. I had never seen her so
troubled. Were they visiting?
Yes, yes. My granddaughter Katie was over
and her brother Michael was in the other room playing with his
trains. I was teaching her how to cook

(44:33):
something. Something, oh, I can't remember.
And then they were gone. Please, please help me.
I need to find them. Their parents will be so upset
with me. I shut my door behind me and
followed her next door. Don't worry, we'll find them.

(44:53):
I told her. But how could she lose her
grandchildren? I thought I was helping her gain
some sort of Peace of Mind by helping her look for these
missing items, but it only seemed to be getting worse.
She thought she was losing people.
Now I began to question how far was too far?

(45:14):
Was I helping her or just entertaining the musings of a
deteriorating mind? Again we went through the
motions and looked around, but once again there weren't many
places to look. I told her I could call her
daughter to see if the kids wereall right, and she eventually
agreed. But when I picked up her

(45:35):
landline, the number didn't dial.
I still pretended to talk to herdaughter Annie and get
confirmation that the kids were all right in a one way
conversation with dead air. Hi, I'm calling from Miss
Quincy's phone. Yes, yes, I'm her neighbor.
We just wanted to check in to see how Katie and Michael are

(45:56):
doing. Oh.
They're with you. OK, fantastic.
Thank you. Thank you so much.
Yes, have a great night. Great heavens.
Thank you. Thank you so much, Miss Quincy
said. I don't know what I do without
you. I put the phone back on the

(46:18):
receiver and just before I walked away, I noticed it wasn't
plugged in. And that black spot, that black
spot was massive. Now she couldn't see it right.
It overwhelmed the wall and bubbled in a few places.
I cautiously poked at it and felt a wet, gooey texture that I

(46:41):
wiped off on my shirt and said. Miss Quincy.
No response. I stared at its colossal nature.
It towered over me and seemed tolean in as it made its way up
towards the ceiling. I think you should get this spot
checked out. It looks like it could be water

(47:03):
damage or mold or something. Or I turned around to see her
standing with a straighter back than she usually did, making her
about 3 inches taller. I think you ought to leave now.
She said, holding the disconnected phone in her hand.

(47:24):
And so I did, and I never saw her again.
No more late night knocks on thedoor and soon no more crying.
A few weeks later, a couple of movers came in and out of her
apartment carrying that brown leather couch.
I asked them where they were taking it and they told me to a

(47:45):
dump. Since the woman had moved to a
nursing home. They told me her dementia had
gotten so bad that her worst fears finally came true.
She had lost her independence. And as I spoke with the movers,
something crackled and then smashed into the floor inside
the apartment, startling them enough to drop the couch in the

(48:08):
hallway. I peered inside to see what all
the commotion was about. At first I saw dust cascading
over the floor, covering the spot of impact in a light haze.
And when it cleared, I realized which wall had collapsed.
The one with the black spot. It finally gave way.

(48:33):
Flecks of moldy blackened drywall covered the floor along
with fragments of something white.
Stained with black mold, but still white.
I looked back towards the open wall to find where it had come
from. I hoped what I saw was fake at
first. It was some kind of Halloween
gag. I've seen posts online about

(48:56):
this kind of thing before. Someone would hide A plastic
skeleton inside the drywall and scare the next tenant who opened
the wall. But it wasn't plastic.
Bits of flesh still hung from its wrists, and its teeth were
falling out and rotted around the hardened gums.
Maggots crawled through miniature holes in its pelvic

(49:19):
bones and eye sockets. It nestled into the insulation
like it was laying peacefully inan upright bed.
Then it's bottom jawbone rocked and fell off, shattering against
the wooden floor. As the three of us stared on in
horror, the drywall creaked again, then flaked some more.

(49:39):
Soon the rest of the wall collapsed and crashed against
the floor, followed by cracklingand clattering and dust once
again bellowing over the wreckage.
The dust settled and my face went cold.
I saw it all. The strainer, the magazines, A
folding chair, a couple of paintings, a box of old letters,

(50:05):
the legs of a coffee table, potsand pans and even a television.
All. Falling from the moldy wall, I
stared at the jawless skull of that skeleton still propped up
inside the wall, and it seemed to stare back at me.
It seems to mock me. I don't know how all Miss

(50:28):
Quincy's belongings ended up inside that wall, but the fact
is, they did. And I probably won't ever know.
But for some reason, I'm sure that skeleton did.
It didn't just know it did all those things too.
I know it sounds crazy, but nothing can convince me it

(50:51):
wasn't torturing her all that time praying on her feeble mind.
Maybe she wasn't as forgetful asshe might have thought.
In these old apartment buildings, some walls are
thinner than others. But I still wondered about her
grandchildren. If everything else was in the

(51:11):
wall, where were they? And just as I turned back toward
my apartment, the drywall creaked one final time.

(51:37):
Look, darling, isn't the snow beautiful tonight?
She said nothing, simply remaining stiff in the aged
wooden chair. He smiled and continued to sip
from his mug of hot chocolate. He found her cold, silent
demeanor adorable, one of a number of things he had come to
find irresistible about her. She just sat there, staring with

(52:00):
an expression of permanent fright back at him.
From in front of the window. Behind her he could see the
white specks as they fell in theslow, soothing flurry.
He looked up at the ancient grandfather clock. 11:30 PM.
He smiled and whispered to her. Not much longer now, my sweet

(52:21):
Delilah. He got up and made his way to
the blaze in the hearth. He began pouring himself some
more of the piping hot cocoa before looking back to the
window, meeting gaze once more into her fading baby blue eyes.
Why don't you have a mug, my love?
Still, only silence served to answer his offer.

(52:42):
He softly grunted in amusement before then closing the top of
the kettle. He took another sip as he
continued to watch her. God, how she looks so beautiful,
Delilah, the soul warmth of his heart, sitting silent and
peaceful on the old chair of antique mahogany, shrouded in

(53:02):
the old white gown he had seen on her since first setting his
eyes on her. He always thought it made her
look akin to the paintings of the Virgin Mary herself.
God, if only he were a painter, he would sometimes think he'd
create a masterpiece from this scene alone to rival Dolly or Da
Vinci. If he were a writer, he would

(53:25):
craft a tail with more potent emotion than even Poe at his
most dreary or bleak. As the snow continued to fall
outside, he could feel the air in the small den area become
colder, even if just ever so slightly.
Why don't you come sit with me by the fire?
He said as he started to stoke the blaze in the furnace until

(53:48):
the heat from its dance upon theoak kindling returned.
Still, she merely sat in her chair in front of the window
with a warm smile. He sat down his mug of hot
chocolate and went over to the window.
Here. He said as he began trying to
push the chair from behind over to the hearth.

(54:09):
Allow me. About two or three feet from the
hearth, Delilah began to slump forward until she had fallen
from her chair. Oh.
Dear. He exclaimed, chuckling.
He shivered again, feeling the unnatural chill pervade the room
around. Come now, Delilah, there's no
need to be upset. It'll all come together soon.

(54:33):
Fixing her back upright, he continued to push the chair the
rest of the way to the hearth. Now isn't that much better,
dear. She was still as silent as ever,
yet her face could say both everything and nothing at the
same time. Her eyes glinted with the
reflective glow of the flames wild dance, which served to also

(54:55):
illuminate the rest of her pale,distraught face.
Even as it looked now, defined in much of its morbid detail by
the flames, he still felt hopelessly entranced by her
face. He checked the clock again
before rummaging around in his shirt pocket. 1140 From his

(55:15):
shirt pocket he produced a small, wilted mistletoe.
He sighed, the grim cloud of reality accentuating itself to
him once again. He had come to both look forward
to it, as well as dread. This night, Christmas Eve.
It wasn't quite time yet. Soon it would all be over, but

(55:36):
not yet. Attempting to void this cloud
from his mind, he stuffed the small mistletoe back into his
pocket and walked over to the table beside the window and
placed one of the untitled records onto the phonograph and
placed the needle onto its thirdtrack.
It was one of his favorite tunesthat began playing, though for

(55:57):
his own reasons unknown, he could never remember the name of
the composition or its composer.Would you care to dance to pass
the time, my love? He walked over to the chair and
took her soft, cold hand before shifting her to her feet, now
standing before him. The cloud of anxiety tightened
its grip on him. You.

(56:19):
Look beautiful, my dearest Delilah.
He said with a shaking voice. He could hear her voice resonate
distantly within the back of hismind, sounding as though it were
echoing from the peak of a mountain.
In life or in death, I will always have your heart, Arthur,
and my kiss will be the soul warmth of your body, your heart

(56:41):
and your soul. Slowly, carefully, he began to
shuffle around the room with herlimply hanging in his arms.
He tried, of course, to keep herbraced upright against his
chest, to no effect. In spite of this though, he
merely waltzed on with her, still smiling warmly to her.

(57:03):
The longer he stared into those two stiff, oceanic hued irises,
the more those horrible madding memories returned to him.
Memories of that first fateful night he lost himself to the
lust of his dearest Delilah. The night that would spell the
beginning of his own undoing. He could almost see it now, in

(57:25):
every exact detail, looking intoher cold frozen eyes.
The long walk down the icy Rd., the night sky, the gaslighted
lamps that stood to sparsely pepper the white blanketed
ground with their dim glows. It was deathly cold that night.
Only just over a month to the day before now, and he was

(57:47):
walking alone from another evening toiling at the local
market. He had made this very same walk
many a night before, but this was different for him.
How could he have not been knownexactly?
Nevertheless, something had changed in an almost
supernatural manner in his mind that night.

(58:08):
It had become very late when he saw her for the first time.
There by the street lamp, she stood, shrouded in a dress as
white as the very snow. And oh, those eyes, those baby
blue eyes that immediately seized him and kept him
spellbound. He felt a sense of tranquil
warmth spread throughout his body with the image of that

(58:31):
first shy smile she gave him when she saw him, that smile of
fragile innocence. And yet of a cunning nature, he
saw that she was trying to hang something from the top of the
post when he began to approach her.
When he drew near he could see that it was a mistletoe that she
was attempting to hang. The very same 1 he now kept in

(58:53):
his pocket as he danced on. Hello there, he greeted.
Is it not just a tad early for these?
She responded with that same playfully sly grin and replied.
The heart doesn't lie, and my heart tells me that the time is
just right. The time for what?

(59:14):
He asked, confused. She giggled.
The time for one's heart to be warmed by a lover's kiss?
He wasn't quite sure what she meant, but he somehow felt she
was right. He could see she was struggling
to hang the mistletoe here. May I?
She gave him that softly sweet smile and handed him the

(59:35):
mistletoe. He then hung it from the top of
the gas fueled St. lamp. There we are, hung where you and
all others can see it. Her smile widened as she
chuckled. You know what they say?
She asked him in a balmy, almostseductive tone.
He looked to her intrigued. The mistletoe is deadly if you

(59:58):
eat it, but the kiss is even deadlier if you mean it.
He laughed before losing himselfonce again into her eyes.
He felt an extreme sense of warmth pass through him.
It was as though he were next toa bonfire, and he even began to
unfasten his winter garbs. Before he could do or say
anything, she placed a slim, tender hand upon his chest.

(01:00:23):
Instantly, a cavalcade of emotions ran down in a
torrential downpour inside of him.
Suddenly all perception of the world around him was lost.
He continued to lose more of himself into her eyes, those
light baby blue whirlpools. What's your name?
He said nothing. He could only barely perceive

(01:00:46):
the sound of her voice. What is your name, Sir?
Still transfixed in her stare, he jibbered out.
Arthur. She smiled and continued to
caress his chest, tenderly now working her hands up and around
his neck. She looked up to the mistletoe

(01:01:07):
and then back to him, her grin growing.
Will you kiss me, Arthur? She cooed.
Kiss me neat the mistletoe. His body began to act before his
mind would register their actions.
Slowly, he began to lean down toher, his eyes feeling heavier
and heavier with each inch. Finally, their lips met and he

(01:01:30):
felt as though he was locked in an angel's embrace.
She would break the union first,turning away to leave with no
words except to say. I'll be waiting for you, love.
He stood frozen, still spellbound.
Eventually his stupor broke and he found himself stupefied,
unaware of where he was or what had happened.

(01:01:54):
In that moment, only one thing was certain, he was extremely
cold. Such would remain the case for
the remainder of the eve. It was that night, curled under
his comforter, that he would seeher face again.
He would hear her voice again, the ever so seductive sound.

(01:02:14):
Kiss me Arthur, kiss me, need the mistletoe.
Such feverish infatuation, mixedtriflingly with a deathly cold,
robbed him utterly of sleep thatnight and well into the coming
morning. And this would carry on for the
rest of that week, until eventually he no longer saw her

(01:02:35):
in his dreams. Her face and her voice had faded
into little more than an obscureset of features and sounds he
never could quite put together. That was until the Sunday
evening when he was once again returning home from the markets,
passing by that very same St. lamp.
And as if expectantly, she stoodagain by the street lamp with

(01:02:57):
mistletoe hanging from its top, shrouded in her same white gown,
beckoning him to her with those eyes.
And there it was again, that warmth that spread through his
body, the earth that had felt entirely absent since that night
for reasons he could never place.
I knew you'd come. She said, bearing that same

(01:03:20):
seductive smile from before. He froze, trapped once again in
her stare. Absently, he began to trudge
towards her. When he reached her, she once
more unfastened his garbs and began caressing his chest.
He could only stand and watch her, his mind completely blank.

(01:03:41):
My God, Arthur, you're so cold. Her voice, while still sultry
and smooth, took on an almost motherly tone when she spoke.
Indeed, he felt like a child again, warmed by her
preternatural touch. Let me warm you with a kiss.
Again. Her hands slithered up from his

(01:04:03):
chest and around his neck, and he instinctively lowered himself
again to meet her lips. And again did the overpowering
heat inside him flare. She would break away again and
again. He would be left alone by the
street lamp, with only a fragmented sense of recollection
of what had transpired. That night, too, resulted in

(01:04:24):
restlessness. That night, writhing in his bed,
Arthur would dream. Dream of snow, of the gas lamp,
of her beautiful eyes, her beautiful face, of the
mistletoe. The mistletoe, deadly if you eat
it. Deadlier if you mean it.

(01:04:48):
He could take it no more. He had to find this woman, this
elusive temptress. Throwing on his heaviest winter
garbs, he set out amid the bitter cold night air.
The year's snowfall had begin torain down earlier that afternoon
and had by then formed into a thick white blanket upon the

(01:05:08):
ground. Slowly he staggered through the
snow until he came once more upon the street lamp.
His legs were unable to hold themselves up any longer and he
fell to his knees in front of it, the mistletoe hanging down,
jeering at him. His sight began to blur as with
each fleeting labored breath thewinter air had done its damage,

(01:05:33):
and now he would feel it's bitter touch slowly pluck the
life from him. First, he would lose any
feelings he had in nearly every part of his body.
Next, he would feel the ice slowly form over his eyes,
shutting him out from his sight.Just before the vicious winter
would have him however, he beganto see the vague outline of a

(01:05:54):
figure gliding towards him. He of course couldn't
distinguish any definition from the figure outside of the
apparently human outline. The approaching figure almost
seems to blend with the surrounding snow.
Only the long Crimson hair braided around the figures neck
gave him clarity. It was her, or was it?

(01:06:19):
As the figure approached closer,he began to notice more and more
details that differentiated it from the Dame he's so feverishly
sought. This new woman, while very
similar in many of her features to the other, had much more
pale, almost desiccated skin. Had he still the feeling in his
body, Arthur would have began sprinting for dear life.

(01:06:42):
He could only lie in wait for this gruesome specter to have
her way with him. He could feel his heart Thunder
and quake against his chest withevery inch she gracefully
floated across the snow. He wanted desperately to at
least close his eyes, sparing himself the sight of whatever
horror he would face at her whims.
When she finally reached him, she froze before him, staring

(01:07:07):
down to him with eyes that were only a faded resemblance of the
baby blue gems he had been entranced by.
The spectre knelt down to him and placed its pale, Bony index
finger on his lips. To his amazement, the spectre's
finger wasn't cold or frigid as he would have expected from one
who looked as gravely as she. Rather, he felt the wave of heat

(01:07:31):
began to pervade him again. She then seized, cupped his chin
in her frail hands and leaned into kiss him.
Instantly, all feeling returned to his limbs.
He then stood up as he watched the spectre turn to leave.
Wait. He exclaimed.
She stopped and turned her pale dead face to him once more.

(01:07:55):
Who are you? She turned slowly before rushing
to him in a startlingly fluid motion that was too quick for
him to perceive. She was upon him again and
taking him firmly by the throat,whispered into his ear and
almost too soft a whisper. I am.
Delilah. I am the warmth of your heart,

(01:08:19):
the blazing fire in your chest that you can never again live
without. With that, she released him, and
he watched her vanish far into the horizon before he could even
blink. Just as before, he was left
alone and bewildered, unable to remember what had just happened

(01:08:40):
or why he had even come. The only thing he was able to
remember were fragments of a face, the face of a beautiful
woman as well as the face of a ghastly corpse.
Along with this, Arthur could hear a soft, rasping whisper
swim through his mind. The voice was, of course,

(01:09:00):
utterly indeterminate, without any sort of identity or
definition to its origin. A kiss from my lips will now and
always be what keeps thy heart warm and beating, lest it submit
to a cold, bitter end. That night was when his dreams
of her first became vivid and clear.

(01:09:22):
He saw her again, standing amid the snow, giving him that same
dubious smile indicative of sinful desire.
And looking upon this face, he fell helplessly into her whims
and slowly walked to her. The snow began to flurry from
above, and he could feel the chill begin crippling him again.

(01:09:42):
The temptress extended her hand and curled her finger to beckon
him closer. Come.
Will you dance with me, Arthur? His pace quickened and his heart
raced with both excitement and apprehension until eventually he
broke into a Sprint to her. To him she seemed so close and

(01:10:04):
at the same time so far away thefurther he sprinted.
At last he reached her and was promptly seized into her
embrace. And like he was now in his
living room with her, they waltzed about amid the white
expanse. All the while, his attention was
fixed to her radiant smile, augmented by those baby blue

(01:10:26):
irises. Kiss.
Me, Arthur, She crooned to him with that angelic voice.
He closed his eyes and leaned into her with anticipation.
Likewise, she would yield her lips to him and he felt the
intensity of the sun burst within him.
Slowly. However, he watched in growing

(01:10:48):
fear as her face slowly devolvedinto that familiarly haunting
necrotic visage that plagued hissubconscious mind.
Aghast, he shoved her away and attempted to flee.
Something caught his feet and hefell prostate into the snow.
She was once more upon him, leering down to him with those

(01:11:09):
cold, dead eyes. She knelt down and reached her
hand down to him, clutching something small and frail in her
withering hand. Shaking, he looked to see that
it was a small mistletoe. You're so cold, Arthur.
She rasped in a ghoulish hiss. Come warm your heart with my

(01:11:34):
lips, love. No, no, go away.
He exclaimed as he felt the crippling chill return once
more, causing his blood to beginto freeze solid all throughout
his body. He slowly lost all sensations of
touch and his eyes started to freeze over again.

(01:11:54):
Her lips opened once more, and she spoke.
You can't deny me long. Without me, your heart, your
soul, will rot. In a cold, icy bed, as darkness
would have him, Arthur watched as the ghost poisoning the

(01:12:14):
mistletoe high above them leanedforward to his right ear and
whispered. I'll.
Be waiting, love. It was in that instant that he
awoke bolt upright with a frightened shriek.
For a time, Arthur just sat there, gasping frantically as
though he were a fish being heldabove the water.

(01:12:37):
Eventually he was able to regainhis composure, yet he still felt
wrong. It was more of an empty
sensation, like he had had something removed from within
him. What, how, or why however, were
questions that continued to elude him.

(01:12:57):
But whatever it was, it would cause him to feel perpetually
cold for many days and nights tocome.
Regardless of what he wore or how close he would sit by the
blazing hearth, one thing did slowly mold into at least a
minute certainty to him. One way or another, this strange
phenomena presently plaguing himwas likely due to some sorceress

(01:13:20):
whim of this beautiful yet mysterious Dame that dominated
his subconscious mind. Unable to sleep, Arthur pondered
how he might be able to rid himself of this apparently
strange curse, eventually concluding that no matter how
strong his desire for her was, he would not heed her summons.

(01:13:42):
Such proved to not be as easy ashe had thought, however.
Every day from rise until fall of the sun, the phantom chills
would menace him without end. Constantly he felt as though his
blood had been turned to solid ice, despite at almost all times
wearing his heaviest of garbs. Arthur would spend most of each

(01:14:05):
following afternoon over those next 3 1/2 weeks huddled next to
his hearth, constantly stocking the kindling to draw more heat
from it. He would only eat scalding broth
and lightly prepared stews with steaming cups of tea or coffee
or cocoa. In spite of all of this, still

(01:14:26):
he was always so deathly cold, inside and out.
Eventually, on the Monday of theweek before now, he ran out of
these commodities and was forcedto venture out against the wrath
of the cold. He had very little money by
then, having received word earlythat past weekend that he had
lost his job at the market due to his seclusion.

(01:14:50):
Still, he had to find some way to banish the bitter cold that
was crippling him. It was as he was trudging
through the snowbound streets ofthe market that, amidst the many
folks who would likewise gathered at the market that
evening, his eyes fell upon her.She was standing at the bakery,

(01:15:11):
her luscious Crimson braided hair facing out to him, hanging
down to her back. Almost instantly, A nauseating
dread flooded through him. You.
Need me, Arthur, he could hear from deep in the pit of his
subconscious. You need my lips.
I can feel it. Come, Arthur, come to the

(01:15:35):
mistletoe. Come.
Hold me and kiss me. No, no.
More. He screamed.
Almost all eyes from the presentcongregation were now fixed to
him, frightened and bewildered, oblivious to the attention he
had garnered, Arthur swiftly bolted to the young woman in

(01:15:55):
front of the bakery, the seductress, the witch.
With startling strength and intensity, he seized her by her
shoulders and proceeded to violently shake her.
What have you done with me? He barked to her frightened
face. Her eyes were wide and afraid,
welling to the brim with tears. Who?

(01:16:18):
Who are you? Though he could see the fear
molded onto the young woman's face, he would not relent.
What do you want from me, devil?She screamed and struggled
frantically to free herself to no use.
Arthur was determined to end this madness that was robbing
him of his body, mind, and his very soul.

(01:16:41):
It would end there and now, evenif it meant the death of him.
Answer me, why have you plagued me like this?
Let the lady go, Demanded a nearby bystander in a gruff
voice. A broad shouldered man attired
in thick animal fur garbs indicative of woodland

(01:17:02):
residency. Despite his hysterical frenzy,
Arthur recognized the man to be none other than McDowell, the
town's lumberjack. She's a witch.
Arthur exclaimed to the crowd asMcDowell pried him away from the
distressed woman and began dragging him out of the Market
Square. She's afflicted me with some

(01:17:24):
form of curse. Please, you must believe me.
She's trying to rob me of my soul.
The crowd merely looked upon himwith disgust and shame, though
as he was being forcefully towedaway, he thought no, he swore he
could see the young woman's shocked face twist into one of

(01:17:45):
sinister exultation. His own flailing against
Mcdowell's restraint was feeble at best, not impeding his iron
grasp in the least. Finally, Arthur was cast face
down into the snow. Stay down if you know would be
good for you. He heard McDowell demand before
turning and making his way back to the Market Square.

(01:18:08):
Laying in the frigid snow, Arthur's mind was lost in a
maelstrom that bordered on confusion, fear, and pure
madness. Why is she doing this to me?
What does she want from me? Why don't they believe me?
Tried as he might, no answers came to him, pushing him further

(01:18:31):
to the edge of complete collapse.
Making the matter worse was thathe felt the chill now with more
potency than ever. It wasn't long before he'd
succumbed to the elements yet again, unconsciousness assuming
full control over his mind, and the first image to assault his
hollow dream was, of course, herleering over and jeering.

(01:18:57):
In. Life or in death, your heart
will always be mine, Arthur. He desperately tried to rid her
presence from his mind to no purpose.
Regardless of how he would try to banish her from thought and
memory, he would be met only with her pale, dead face.
No, stay away. She simply remained, curling a

(01:19:22):
beckoning finger with one hand, the other holding the mistletoe
aloft. Join.
Me under the mistletoe, Arthur. Come, come, Arthur.
'S eyes went wide as he saw his body turn to ice.
All too soon, he was encased in a layer of frigid, unforgiving

(01:19:43):
glacier. He could only watch in perpetual
terror as the spectral woman approached him.
You. Can't elude me, Arthur teased
the specter and it's rasping whisper poison her decayed index
finger at his heart without. Me.
You. Will only crumble with a light

(01:20:05):
tap of her finger upon his chest.
The eye splintered and started to crumble, and helpless, he
could only watch, horrified while he fell apart.
Finally, his body had been reduced to nothing more than
shards of glassy ice, only his head remaining whole.
Yet even still, he was forced towatch as the specter picked up

(01:20:28):
his head and, holding that damning mistletoe high above,
brought her faded Gray lips to meet his.
Arthur awoke again with a scream.
Frantically, he padded all over his body to find that he was
still whole and the specter was nowhere to be found.
Even still, relief wouldn't findhim, as he was still menaced by

(01:20:51):
the chill. He could hardly move his limbs,
and he was profusely trembling from hypothermia.
He wanted to cry, both from the crippling madness as well as
bitter fear, and he had no doubtwould have done so had the air
not been so cruel with its wintery wrath as to freeze the

(01:21:12):
tears as they welled with every minute reserve of strength he
would have. Arthur found himself to his feet
and began stiffly shambling to his house.
It was as he crossed onto that familiar road to his house that
he saw her again, walking all alone.
Instantly he could feel the urgeagain to rush to her and try

(01:21:35):
again to force her to relieve him of whatever spell or curse
she cast upon him. It was this frightful
determination and this alone that seems to fuel his stride.
She didn't seem to notice him approaching.
It was perfect, he thought. He could sneak upon her, ambush

(01:21:56):
her, and be on his way with nonethe wiser.
He would be rid of this curse atlast.
Thoughts fell in an avalanche ofhow he could force her to
relieve him his torment. He was prepared to even do the
worst if it came to it. After all, she's all alone now.

(01:22:16):
It would be so easy, wouldn't it?
Just a quick snap of her fragilelittle neck and it'll all be
over. And that was all he could care
about to finally be rid of this fantasmic witch and her damn
accursed mistletoe. It wasn't long before he was
then upon her. Which I have you now.

(01:22:39):
He ejaculated venomously. When she turned to him, exposing
those all too familiar baby Blues that appeared frozen in
fright, he knew he had her finally at his mercy.
He. Knew he would finally end this
madness, She quickly tried to hurry into her home and shut out
her pursuer, but she was too little, too late.

(01:23:03):
Arthur caught the door as it wasabout to close on him and forced
his way inside. When she tried to run to the
back of her house, he caught herand rudely threw her to the
floor. He was then upon her again, with
his hands like pythons about herthroat, forcing the air from her
lungs and commanding her to undoher wicked sorcery.

(01:23:25):
It was, in more than one way, invigorating.
He felt as though he were a wolfand she a cornered sheep.
The look of utter fear in her eyes fueled him.
Now he would bend her to his whim.
Whatever you've done to me, which it ends now.

(01:23:46):
I. I I have, haven't, she choked
out, but it was no use. Arthur's strangulation had by
then rendered her speech impotent.
Frantically, she claws like an animal at his face, trying to
gouge his eyes. Nevertheless, Arthur's wrath was
little impeded in her wild flailing.

(01:24:09):
Her arm brushed the nearby drawer, knocking something off.
Even amidst his primal state, hewas able to see that it was a
small, frail mistletoe. Mistletoe.
He barked with lunatic laughter as he began forcing it down her
throat. Deadly if you eat it.

(01:24:32):
Slowly, he watched the life leave her eyes.
Yes, he knew he had one now. It'll all be over.
Just one quick snap. He rose up triumphantly, the
adrenaline still coursing through him.
He had done it, It was over, it was all over.

(01:24:56):
The witch was dead. He stopped suddenly.
His exultation died and was replaced with another feeling
panic. He looked down again at the
woman's inert body, now with a growing panic.
What have I done? He tried to shake her,

(01:25:18):
desperately hoping that she may yet still exhibit life.
She did not, and Arthur now felthis head begin to spin.
What was he to do? He killed her.
He was now a murderer. The court would have him hanged
for sure. He'd be condemned as a cold
blooded monster. But no, no, that wasn't what

(01:25:42):
happened, was it? She was a witch, was she not?
Had she not wrought misery upon his life?
What he did was for the good of his own soul, wasn't it?
In a brief, devastating avalanche, he began to remember
her eyes, those hypnotic irises so worn with fear.

(01:26:07):
All at once, dregs of recrimination and despair caused
him to huddle himself into a fetal position, sobbing.
Arthur. Arthur, he heard.
The voice only faintly, but enough to recognize it.
Arthur, No, no, that's not possible.

(01:26:32):
He stammered. All too soon then did he feel
that haunting cold infect his body once more.
Crippled once again, he listenedin terror as the Wraith's voice
appeared to close in around him with its ghastly rasping hiss.
In life or in death, I. Have your heart, I will keep it

(01:26:58):
warm with me even. In hell, it will belong to me.
And me alone, forever and always.
Arthur's body was trembling moreviolently than ever before now.
No, no, no, no, you're dead. As if on cue, he saw the woman's

(01:27:22):
body suddenly bolt upright. Her face was now the very same
as of the specter, with her vibrant blue eyes now forever
faded in death. Kiss me, Arthur.
She croaked as she began crawling toward him with
disjointed motion. Arthur opened his mouth, yet not
a sound was able to be uttered. Only pitiful croaks of fright

(01:27:45):
were sounded before she was uponhim, pinning him to the wooden
floor, leering over him. She then began to open her mouth
and croak as she painfully regurgitated the mistletoe onto
him, now black and withered. Come, won't you kiss me, love?

(01:28:06):
Before he could react, her pale,dead hands roughly seized his
face, and her cold lips forced their way to his.
This time, the warm sensation from before was not present,
only the frigid touch of death and decay.
He struggled until finally throwing her off of him.

(01:28:26):
She was sent hurtling into the wall with a crash, and she was
once again motionless, lifeless.He simply laid on his back, too
frightened to move in spite of his spiking adrenaline, gasping
frantically for breath. When he finally looked up, he
was met with her dead face, forever chiseled in perpetual

(01:28:48):
fright. Reflexively, he touched his own
lips, finding that they still felt as they had before, cracked
and chapped as they were from the exposure to the unforgiving
cold. Still, he had felt her lips,
hadn't he? Arthur.
Clutched his head and howled as he began shoving his head into

(01:29:11):
the wooden floor. Please, his mind screamed.
Please, merciful Lord, make it end.
Eventually he could bring himself to pound the floor no
more, and that was when he crawled like an animal to the
woman's battered corpse. Why?
Are you doing this to me? This time there was no answer.

(01:29:36):
She merely stared back at him with stiff, faded eyes.
He began shaking her, crying outfor an answer.
It was when he was again met with only silence that his
terrified sobbing devolved into a fit of hysterical laughter.
He collapsed onto his back, the corpse held firmly against him

(01:29:58):
as the laughter soon escalated into wailing cackles of raving
madness that echoed throughout the house.
In a morbid way, it was hilarious to him.
What began with a simple kiss had now delved into the black
recesses of insanity. He was once a man respected by

(01:30:19):
the people. He was a well liked market
clerk, adored by those he served.
Now he was a madman, A lunatic, and now, worst of all, a
murderer. He carried on in his demented
cheer until his throat was shot and his breaths became labored.

(01:30:41):
Slowly, he could feel the chill again, his mind now gone
forever, broken beyond all repair.
He unfastened his shirt and trousers before climbing onto
her, mounting the withering mistletoe above.
If it was him she wanted, she would have him, all of him.

(01:31:03):
It would be days before reality would finally breakthrough his
madness. He sat that night, the eve of
Christmas, staring into her deadeyes.
He knew he couldn't live on likethis, a prisoner to the curse of
his own madness to Delilah. The chills grasp tightened and

(01:31:24):
crippled him again. That was when it came to him of
what he would have to do. He went into the basement of the
house and retrieved a bucket of the kerosene meant for the lamps
and set about all night, dousingevery inch of the house with it.
Every wall, every corner in every room was dredged, leaving

(01:31:45):
none to be spared as he toiled feverishly.
Her words continued to cycle incessantly, and the
supernatural chill amplified in its ferocity.
You. Need my lips.
I can feel it. Come, Arthur, come.
To the mistletoe. Despite this he didn't stop

(01:32:08):
until the breaking of the next sunrise when he had finally
completed his task. Tonight he swore to himself this
will all end tonight. 12 loud chimes broke Arthur of his mad
remiss. It was time.
Steadily, he placed Delilah backinto her chair and silenced the

(01:32:32):
phonograph. He now felt more deathly cold
than ever before. Still, this didn't deter him.
With the last of the kerosene, he doused himself and her before
stringing the mistletoe to the ceiling.
He then stood her up once more, embracing her to him before

(01:32:53):
using the poker to cast out a burning log, setting the floors
alight. All too quick did the flames
dance, consume the floors and the walls around them.
Even amidst the inferno, however, Arthur still felt none
of its warmth. He knew only one thing would,
and it would be for the last time.

(01:33:15):
Merry Christmas, Delilah, he said as he held her in an
eternal embrace and brought his lips to hers.
Even as the flames crept upon them, charring flesh and bone,
he did not waver. He would die with his heart in
eternal warmth, or even in death.

(01:33:36):
She would always be the sole warmth of his heart.

(01:34:11):
Yeah. Yeah.

(01:43:30):
Yeah. Yeah.

(01:54:47):
Yeah.

All Episodes

Scary Stories For A Rainy Night - Ep. 189 - Unknown Caller

Episode Transcript

Popular Podcasts

New Heights with Jason & Travis Kelce

Dateline NBC

24/7 News: The Latest

.css-15opob5{left:0;position:absolute;top:0.8rem;} All Episodes

.css-14f5ked{margin:0;word-break:break-word;display:-webkit-box;-webkit-box-orient:vertical;box-orient:vertical;-webkit-line-clamp:2;overflow:hidden;}Scary Stories For A Rainy Night - Ep. 189 - Unknown Caller