Scary Stories For A Rainy Night - Ep. 193 - Don’t Stop on Old Creek Road - 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
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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.
To really get my story, you haveto understand the layout of my
third floor landing. It's not particularly large, but
it's designed in a way that's just unsettling enough to stick

(00:44):
with you. There's a single, narrow
staircase that creaks and groansas you climb it.
At the top, the landing forms ATshape.
To the left there's my office, where I sometimes work late into
the night. To the right, my bedroom, with a
door that's always just a littleharder to close than it should
be. Straight ahead is the bathroom,

(01:05):
with its frosted glass shower and a small high window that
lets in just enough light duringthe day to give the space an
eerie, sterile glow. That bathroom has always felt a
bit off to me. Maybe it's the way the sound of
the water echoes against the tiles, or how the shower door.
Sticks. Sometimes, even though there's

(01:27):
no visible damage, whatever it is, I've never been entirely
comfortable in there, but I chalked it up to my overactive
imagination. One night around 10 PMI decided
to take a shower before heading to bed.
It had been a long day and I just wanted to wash off the
stress and crawl under the covers.

(01:47):
The glass panels on my shower are that kind of concave and
convex frosted glass that makes everything on the other side
look like a blurry distorted shadow.
I always thought it was kind of cool.
It was like looking through a fun house mirror or something.
But that night it would prove tobe anything but fun.

(02:08):
The water was warm and the steamwas starting to fog up the
glass. I was lost in my thoughts.
I should have said this to this person.
I should have said that letting the rhythmic patter of the water
calm my nerves as I thought about the events of the day, the
conversations that I had. Then suddenly, out of the corner

(02:28):
of my eye, I noticed something. A shape.
At first I thought it was just the way the steam was clinging
to the glass, creating patterns that play tricks on my eyes.
But as I focused, I realized it wasn't random.
It was a hand. It wasn't just any hand though.

(02:49):
It was dark, almost black, and seemed to shimmer faintly in the
dim light of the bathroom. The fingers were long and thin,
too long to belong to anyone I knew.
It wasn't pressed against the glass like you might imagine,
but instead hung in the air juston the other side of the shower
door. My heart started pounding in my

(03:11):
chest. My family is all pale, the kind
of pale that burns after 5 minutes in the sun.
This hand, it definitely did notbelong to anyone in my house.
I froze, my mind racing. Maybe it was a shadow from
outside, maybe one of the neighbors trees had bent in the

(03:32):
window, casting a strange silhouette through the bathroom
window. But no, the hand moved slowly
and deliberately. It tilted, almost as if it was
waving to me. And then it did something I'll
never forget. It reached for the light switch.
The switch was just outside the shower, mounted on the wall near

(03:55):
the door. I watched, paralyzed, as this
hand seems to stretch impossiblyfar, its fingers brushing the
edge of the switch. And then, with a soft click, the
light went out pitch black. The sound of the water hitting
the tiles suddenly felt deafening.

(04:17):
My breath was ragged and I couldhear my heart pounding in my
ears. Let me tell you, being plunged
Into Darkness while you're in the shower is terrifying,
especially when you know someone's in the room and they
turned off the lights. I have never felt fear like that

(04:37):
before. It wasn't the kind of fear you
get from a jump scare in a movieor a sudden loud noise.
This was primal, bone deep terror.
I was completely vulnerable, literally naked and trapped in a
small dark space with something that I couldn't explain or

(04:58):
control. I stood there for what felt like
an eternity, not daring to move.The only sound was the water,
which had suddenly taken on an almost sinister quality.
I kept straining my ears for anyother noise, a creak in the
floor, a footstep, but there wasnothing, just the water and my

(05:20):
own panicked breathing. Finally, I realized I have to do
something. So I slowly and cautiously
reached out, slid the shower door open.
The cold air from the bathroom hit me like a slap in the face,
making me shiver. I stepped out onto the tile
floor, my wet feet making soft squelch noises that seemed

(05:43):
unbearably loud in this silence.I felt my way to the light
switch, half expecting that handto still be there.
When my fingers finally found it, I flipped it up, flooding
the room with light. Once again.
The bathroom was empty. I checked the door and it was
still locked from the inside. I looked under the sink, as

(06:07):
ridiculous as that sounds, and there was nothing there, behind
the shower curtain, even in the small cabinet where I kept my
towels. No one, no sign that anyone had
been in the bathroom with me. The relief that washed over me
was almost enough to make me laugh.
Almost. But then I remembered the

(06:29):
stairs. The staircase leading up to the
third floor is old and wooden. It creaks like crazy with even
the slightest weight on it. If someone had come up while I
was in the shower, I would have heard it, and if they had left,
I would have heard that too. But I didn't hear anything.

(06:50):
I didn't sleep that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I
saw that hand again, those impossibly long fingers reaching
for the light switch. I stayed in bed with the covers
pulled up to my chin, my ears straining for the slightest
sound, but the house was silent.Nothing like that has happened

(07:12):
since. I've tried to explain it away,
to rationalize what I saw. Maybe it was a trick of the
light, maybe I was just overtired and my mind played a
cruel trick on me. But deep down I know what I saw,
and every time I'm in that bathroom now, I'm terrified,

(07:33):
especially when I take a shower,half expecting to see the hand
again. Sometimes late at night, I'll
hear a creak on the stairs. It's probably just the house
settling right, maybe the wind rattling the old wood.
But every once in a while, I'll catch myself holding my breath,

(07:55):
waiting to hear the sound of thelight switch clicking off again.
Driving to pick up a friend who was at a cabin party about 40
miles West of where I lived sounded simple enough.

(08:18):
I was doing them a huge favor. It was late, after all. close to
2:00 AM. The back roads were as dark and
lonely as you could possibly imagine.
No St. lights, just the faint glow of my headlights bouncing
off the trees and the occasionalglint of an animal's eyes in the
underbrush. I've been on these kinds of
roads before, but something about this night felt different,

(08:43):
heavier somehow. As I navigated the winding path,
my phone buzzed in the cup holder.
A text from my friend. Bad signal.
I'll stay by the road, just honkwhen you're close.
Great. I thought finding this random
cabin in the middle of nowhere was going to be a lot more

(09:04):
challenging without GPS. I adjusted my grip on the wheel
and kept going, trying not to overthink the unsettling quiet.
That's when I saw it. A red 4 door sedan parked
haphazardly on the side of the road.
All of its doors were wide open and inside, slumped in the

(09:25):
seats, were four figures. At first I thought they might
just be asleep, as weird as thatwould be.
Oh wait, maybe they're drunk or something.
But as I slowed down, I noticed their heads were tilted at odd
angles, like their necks couldn't support them.
None of them were moving, not a twitch, not a breath, just limp

(09:50):
in the dark. I suddenly felt a cold shiver.
I didn't stop driving, but I could not help staring as I
rolled past. The headlights didn't show much,
but the scene was enough to makemy skin crawl.
Who leaves their car doors open like that?
Who were they? Why were they sitting in the car

(10:12):
like that? Was something wrong?
I'm not proud of this, but I didnot have the guts to stop and
see if they needed help. My mind raced with the
possibilities. Maybe it was a prank.
Maybe they were trying to lure me.
Something inside me told me instinctually, Keep driving.

(10:34):
I tried calling my friend again,and there was no signal, just
static in the faint hum of the engine as I drove deeper into
the woods. Eventually, I reached the end of
the road where the cabin was supposed to be.
Except it wasn't. The cabin wasn't there.
No lights, no sounds of a party,nothing.

(10:57):
I reached a dead end. Frustrated and a little spooked,
I turned around as there was nothing else I could do and
headed back the way I came. Maybe I missed the turn.
By now it was close to 3:00 AM. The road felt even darker
somehow. As I approached the spot where
I'd seen that red car, I felt mypulse quicken.

(11:20):
The car was still there, but something was different.
Only the front passenger door was open now, and the figures
inside were not slumped anymore.They were sitting upright, heads
turned toward the road, toward me.
I slowed down, almost against mywill, trying to process what I

(11:44):
was seeing. Their faces were blank,
completely expressionless. But their eyes were locked on
me, following my car as I crept past at about 10 mph.
It was not just a glance, either.
It was as if they were waiting for me, expecting me to drive by

(12:05):
again. The air inside my car was thick
and heavy, like it was pressing down on my chest.
I couldn't look away, even though every part of me wanted
to. As soon as I was past them, I
hit the gas, my tires crunching against the gravel as I speed
away. My hands were shaking on the

(12:27):
wheel. My heart felt like it was about
to explode in my chest. I didn't care about the cabin or
my friend anymore, that was justtoo much.
I just wanted to get out of there.
When I finally got home I sat inmy driveway for what felt like
an hour at least. I thought about calling someone,

(12:48):
maybe the police, but what wouldI even say?
Maybe I could just call the non-emergency line and just tell
them about something weird I saw.
I couldn't shake the feeling though, that there was something
wrong. Couldn't explain it.
I still can't. The next day I called my friend

(13:08):
to see if he had made it home and I apologized profusely.
He had, thankfully. Apparently he had gotten a ride
with someone else. I wanted to tell him about what
I saw, about the figures that I saw inside the car, but I
stopped myself, not really sure why.
Something just made me feel likeI should not talk about it.

(13:30):
Like talking about it would makeit worse somehow.
Even now, years later, I avoid that stretch of Rd.
I don't know who or what I saw that night and I don't think I
really want to. Sometimes I do want to the
curiosity of what I saw. It sucks that I'll never know.

(14:02):
One night when I was about 7 years old, bedtime came like
every other night. I climbed into the second level
of my bunk bed at around 9:30. I snug into my little fortress
above the world. The top bunk was my favorite,
hands down. Who doesn't love sleeping on the
top bunk? Up high where everything seemed
smaller, I was safer up here. I drifted off quickly.

(14:28):
I was exhausted from the day, lost in the easy dreams of a
child. But that night, safety was an
illusion that would shatter before morning.
Some point in the night, I woke up.
I wasn't sure why, maybe it was a bad dream I had, or maybe I
did hear something. But then I was sure that I heard

(14:52):
something, a strained whisper. No, no, it was faint, almost
like it was coming from inside my head.
I lay there holding my breath, waiting for the sound to go
away, but it didn't. The whisper came again, and it
was louder this time and full ofpain.

(15:15):
No, no, my small chest tightenedas I pulled the covers up to my
face, convincing myself it was just my imagination.
I was about to close my eyes when a new sound made my heart
stop. The unmistakable creak of the
stairs. Slowly and steadily the boards

(15:39):
groaned. Someone heavy was on the stairs.
My parents bed was just across the room and I could hear their
snoring, steady and undisturbed.It was not them on the stairs.
I heard the whisper again. It was more clear now, as if

(15:59):
whoever was saying it was closer.
No, no. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping
the sound would go away, that I would wake up and find this was
all just a bad dream. But then came the screaming.
It started very suddenly, a sharp, high pitched whale that

(16:22):
seemed to echo from nowhere and everywhere at the same time.
It mixed with the whispering andthe noise that I heard on the
stairs, creating a chorus of terror that wrapped itself
around me, enveloped me completely.
No, no, the voice continued muchlouder now, blending with the

(16:45):
screams. Terrified and wondering why my
parents were not coming into theroom, I slid out of bed as
quietly as I could. My hands shook as I felt for the
latter, my only way down. Each rung seemed louder than the
last, and I winced with every small noise.
When my feet hit the floor, I crawled on the ground toward the

(17:08):
door. The door offered a full view of
the stairs where the creaking and the whispers were coming
from. My fingers found the handle and
I twisted it carefully, opening the door just enough to look
outside. The staircase loomed in the
darkness. It looked like an ominous void.

(17:29):
Nothing was moving. For a brief moment, I thought
maybe I had imagined all of it. How could I imagine screaming
though? But then the whisper came again,
and this time from above me. No, no, my heart felt like it
was trying to leap out of my chest.

(17:50):
The sound was coming from the room upstairs, a room that no
one should be in right now. I had to know what it was.
I don't know why, but I just hadto know.
I crept toward the staircase. The house felt alive.
Every creak and noise was amplified.

(18:11):
I stayed low, peeking around corners, shaking, expecting to
see someone. The stairs remained empty.
Instead of going up, I decided to check the front door.
Maybe I would find some explanation.
Maybe someone had come inside and left the door open.
My small hand reached for the light switch in the living room,

(18:34):
but I hesitated. Something inside told me not to
do it. I swallowed hard and inched
toward the window instead. I peeked outside and I saw them.
Three people were standing just outside the window, their shapes
barely illuminated in the pale light.

(18:57):
They were unmoving, and they didn't say anything.
I'm not sure if they could see me, but they stood still.
My breath caught in my throat. I couldn't look away.
I was petrified. And then, in an instant, they
were gone. One second they were there and

(19:18):
the next just gone. My heart was racing and I
stumbled backward. I scrambled to my parents room
and leapt into their bed. My mom stirred a little bit,
mumbling and asking if I was OK.How could I tell her what I just
saw? There were people outside the
window. There's someone in the house

(19:39):
upstairs. I didn't really know what to do,
but I did feel safer lying between them.
I'm not really sure what happened that night.
Maybe it was just a dream or maybe I really saw what I
thought I did. I probably should have told my
parents. It was supposed to be a cool,

(20:12):
quiet evening with my brother, him 11 and me 12 years old.
We were left to fend for ourselves this night as our
parents went on a date night. We weren't scared or anything,
this was kind of a normal thing and we were used to it at this
point. Our house was small.
All of the lights were on and wehad snacks and a couple of

(20:33):
movies lined up to keep us entertained until bedtime.
It was just one of those ordinary nights.
Nothing felt weird until we heard a knock on the door.
I think it was around 8:00 PM and the knock echoed through the
house. My brother and I froze for a
minute and paused the TV, looking at each other.

(20:54):
A voice followed, muffled but clear enough to hear it.
Pizza. At first, I thought it was my
dad playing a joke as they just arrived home.
You had a habit of doing stuff like that.
Instinctively, I smiled and started walking toward the door,
laughing under my breath. But as I reached for the

(21:15):
doorknob, my brother told me to stop.
He said that's not Dad. The realization hit me like a
bucket of cold water. He was right.
My dad's voice was different. It was deeper, it was warm and
familiar. Who was this?

(21:36):
It was sharper, almost too casual, like someone trying too
hard to sound normal. I froze with my hand just a few
inches away from the doorknob. We didn't order any pizza.
I called out, my voice shaking. Silence followed, no reply, no

(21:59):
retreating footsteps. Just silence.
My brother now at my side, clutching my arm, he whispered.
Maybe we should call mom. My heart was pounding now, every
beat was loud in my ears. What do I do?

(22:19):
For 15 agonizing minutes, we satthere silent, not knowing what
to do. I opened the closet next to the
front door and retrieved my cricket bat.
My brother walked over to the fireplace and picked up the
ornamental fireplace poker. My eyes darted between the
footpath and my brother's pale face.

(22:42):
He was clutching the poker so tightly I could tell that he was
more scared right now than he had ever been in his life.
Nothing moved. Silence.
I tried to convince myself this was just a weird
misunderstanding. Maybe my parents ordered us
pizza and just forgot to tell usthat something told me this was

(23:03):
not right. They definitely would have told
us if they ordered pizza. Then, finally, there was
movement again. A shadow shifted on the footpath
just at the edge of my view. The person was tall, they had
long dark hair tied back in a ponytail, and he wore a long
coat that seemed to swallow him.But what struck me most was that

(23:29):
he was not carrying a pizza. He didn't run or hurry away, he
just nonchalantly, slowly walkedaway.
I ducked down, motioned for my brother to stay quiet and low.
We waited until we couldn't hearhis footsteps anymore.
When we finally felt like we were free to move around again,

(23:52):
everything felt different. The vibe was destroyed.
The cozy warmth of the house wasnow gone, replaced with cold,
dark shadows that seemed darker than normal.
I made sure every single light was on in the house.
Every single one. We sat on the couch, huddled

(24:14):
together, waiting for our parents to come home.
When they finally walked throughthe door, my brother burst into
tears. My mom immediately knew
something was very wrong. We tried to explain.
The story sounded ridiculous even to us.
I'm pretty sure my dad didn't sleep that night.

(24:36):
He was in the living room much longer than normal, stepping
outside every few minutes to make sure there was nobody out
there. I have no idea who the man was
or what would have happened if we had opened the door.
Pretty scary to think about though.

(25:05):
To all outside observers, it appeared that Doctor John
Hamilton and his wife Susan had the perfect loving marriage.
In their 14 years of blissful union.
John's passionate love for his spouse had led him to lavish her
with expensive gifts and luxurious vacations, a brand new

(25:26):
Porsche on their wedding day being just the beginning of a
long list of romantically motivated purchases.
But John wasn't just generous with his money, he was
apparently generous of heart too, and spent a great deal of
time reminding Susan just how much he loved her in a variety
of heart warming ways. When Susan professed A yearning

(25:49):
for employment for a purpose outside of being a housewife,
John gave her a job at his highly esteemed obstetrics and
gynecology clinic in Oklahoma City.
He was there for her in every way, and by all accounts, they
were a textbook case of romanticlongevity.
But that's what makes it all themore horrifying that on

(26:11):
Valentine's Day of 2001, Doctor Hamilton's arrival at the family
home kicked off a chain of events that would turn their
perfect little world into a living nightmare.
As you can imagine, in a marriage as loving as John and
Susan's, Valentine's Day was held in high esteem.

(26:32):
Every single year they were married, they exchanged gifts
and cards, often having planned some kind of romantic
rendezvous, be at dinner and a movie or a walk around a local
park. But on Valentine's Day of 2001,
John was needed in the operatingroom of his clinic fairly early
in the morning, too. Any exchange of gifts would have

(26:55):
to wait until his lunch break. But just as he promised, John
ducked out of the clinic as soonas he was able and drove home to
spend a romantic half hour with his wife, after which he would
have to return for another surgery.
He called her name as he walked through the front door, but she
didn't answer. John suspected that his wife

(27:19):
might have some kind of surprisein store for him, and he felt a
ripple of excitement to run through him as he walked up the
stairs towards the master bedroom.
He called his wife's name again,but still there was no answer,
and it was then that something caught John's eye.
Lying on the floor of the secondfloor bathroom, it was Susan.

(27:42):
She was in a crumpled, lifeless heap with blood pooling
underneath her. Paramedics were called to the
scene, but Susan couldn't be revived.
Those in attendance noted that she appeared to have been
strangled with two of her husband's expensive still
connect ties. But the blood on the bathroom

(28:03):
floor was undoubtedly from the series of bloody head wounds she
had due to repeated blunt force trauma, the wounds being so
severe that parts of her brain were exposed while her face was
completely unrecognizable. To his absolute horror, Doctor
Jon Hamilton was the number one suspect in his wife's murder

(28:26):
from the very beginning. Police have since publicly
stated that there were many factors which led them to such a
conclusion. The first being that there was
no sign of forced entry to the home.
Whoever killed Susan had keys tothe residence.
It was also a crime in which nothing of value was stolen, and

(28:46):
one which there were no bloody fingerprints left in the
bathroom, which had blood almosteverywhere.
This meant that there was a distinct chance that whoever
killed Susan was either extremely professional,
incredibly lucky, or had the time and privacy to scrub the
scene of incriminating evidence before the body was found.

(29:10):
On top of that, while searching the home, police got their hands
on a Valentine's Day card that Susan had written to John,
presumably that year, and in themessage inside wasn't nearly as
loving and cheerful as you mightimagine.
I bought this two weeks ago, so I guess maybe it doesn't seem as

(29:30):
appropriate, but I do love you. Have a great day, Susan.
The contents of the card raised a lot of questions concerning
the state of Hamilton's marriage.
Evidently, it suggests that there had been some kind of
incident or argument, one that had caused a degree of turmoil

(29:51):
and somewhat soured that Valentine's feeling.
As it later turned out, this incident involved Susan catching
John making phone calls to a woman employed as a topless
dancer. Police actually found hundreds
of calls to this person on John's cell phone during their
investigation, and heard from close friends of Susan that she

(30:13):
had confessed to considering a divorce.
To the cops, the explanation seemed simple.
John had murdered his wife to prevent her from running off
with half of his money. But at his trial, much of the
local community came out in support of Doctor Hamilton and
refused to believe that the man was capable of such a horrific

(30:34):
crime, especially given that thevictim was his own beloved wife.
But when the paramedics who attended the 911 call John Maid
were questioned in court, the jury began to notice some
disturbing inconsistencies in his story.
Hamilton testified in court thatafter he contacted emergency

(30:54):
services, he had gotten to work trying to perform CPR on his
wife's bloodied corpse. And this appeared to be true, as
the paramedics confirmed that when they had arrived, John had
been performing chest compressions.
But as people who performed CPR on an almost daily basis, the
paramedics noticed something peculiar about John's technique.

(31:18):
It was incredibly ineffective. From a regular person with no
first aid training, that could be understandable, but John's
was so bad that it almost lookedlike he wasn't actually trying
to revive Susan at all, which for a medical professional is
very suspicious. John also claimed that he had

(31:40):
tried performing mouth to mouth resuscitation on his wife, but
the paramedics claimed that Johnhad no blood on his mouth or
face. When they arrived, there was so
much blood around the victim's head that there's no way John
could have performed mouth to mouth and not gotten any on him.
Some of Susan's blood was also found on the steering wheel of

(32:03):
Doctor Hamilton's car, and despite his claim in court that
he had simply moved to the vehicle to make room for
emergency vehicles, a prosecutorwas able to make use of the
overall suspicion to claim that this was evidence that John had
been considering an escape attempt.
At one point during the trial, the prosecution's case against

(32:24):
Doctor Hamilton appeared to be floundering.
Hamilton's defense attorney had brought a number of key
character witnesses to testify in court, and all had built a
picture of John as nothing but aloving husband.
And he believed that the nail inthe prosecution's coffin would
be the testimony of a crime scene investigator named Tom

(32:44):
Bevel, an expert on blood splatter at crime scenes.
Bevel was essentially brought into confirm that the blood
splatter on Doctor Hamilton shirt, the same 1 he was wearing
during his attempt at CPR, was consistent with a man simply
trying to revive his. Murdered.
Wife while in a state of extremepanic and grief At first, Tom

(33:06):
Bevel did indeed testify that much of the blood splatter could
have well been from the doctor'sattempts at CPR.
But as it turned out, Bevel had noticed something that other
investigators had overlooked. He had made a note of the few
small flecks of blood that couldbe found on the inside of
Hamilton's right sleeve, a pattern he had seen many times

(33:28):
before on the clothing of peoplewho have killed someone with a
blunt object. In the seconds that followed,
the courtroom was deathly silent.
An expert defense witness had testified against the person
they were supposed to be defending, and in just a few
words, Tom Bevel had condemned Dr. Hamilton to prison.

(33:51):
When later asked why he made thedecision to essentially act as a
witness for the prosecution, Bevel claimed he just had to
tell the truth. He said he had sworn an oath,
something that overrode any allegiance he may have had to
his client. After that, it only took two
hours for a jury of his peers tofind John Hamilton guilty on the

(34:14):
charge of first degree. Murder.
Where after a judge sentenced him to life in prison, those
that followed the case were highly disturbed by the sudden
turn of events. John had and still does maintain
his innocence even to this day, but more and more evidence
points to the idea that he killed his wife in cold blood.

(34:37):
His defense team even floated the idea that he must have been
innocent because the guilty timeline would mean that John
went to work and performed flawless surgeries right after
murdering the love of his life. This might well be true, but in
light of the guilty verdict, it's all the more damning

(34:58):
because it suggests that Doctor Jon Hamilton was able to beat
his wife's skull in on Valentine's Day, then remain
calm and collected enough to go and perform complicated medical
surgeries. And if it's true, then maybe a
more fitting name for Doctor Hamilton is Doctor Death.

(35:30):
For just over 15 years, Berkingshire, England, in its
bright and wondrous glory, was the breeding ground for joy and
cheer. Every year, the denizens of the
city gather around the center ofthe square to share the tales of
the supernatural. Tales of goblins and elves, of
Wizards and witches, tales of heroism and valor.

(35:54):
This particular holiday was known to them as Lore Night, the
one time of year where any patron, young and old, were
invited to come from all countries and cultures in the
world. Lore Night always began upon the
setting sun and would seldom enduntil the rising dawn.
Of course, food and the best of the freshly brewed ale were

(36:17):
always anticipated on this nightfreshly killed and optically
prepared game accompanied by what would be compared to at
least two full grown fields of delicious crops.
On a selected few occasions it was said that there would even
be music being played as the tales of the tales larger than
life were being told. The best aspect of Lore Knight

(36:40):
according to most in Berkingshire, was when one
storyteller would subtly attemptto weave their tail in such a
way that would attempt to outdo the other tales being told that
night. For example, two years back, a
young lad captivated all in attendance beyond all others
with his tale of a fierce and virtuous warrior that would

(37:02):
conquer beasts and Dragons alikefor the protection of his
Kingdom. Another tale that was applauded
above all others. One particular lore night was
spoken by a Norwegian sailor whocelebrated his own account of
encountering and defending his vessel against the wrath of the
damnable drogger. Until tonight, this tale was

(37:24):
considered to be incontestable in its popularity among the
commoners in Berkinshire. This Lore Night, however, would
shift the very history of Berkinshire, forming an
irrevocable Crimson stain on itsotherwise joyous visage.
This year's Lore Night began like every year before it.

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The excited and anxious storytellers began to amass in
the center of the city, where atleast three cords of dry logs
lay neatly prepared for the token bonfire that would blaze
bright through the night's festivities.
Long tables of food and drink were being prepared.
The market clerk, who always ranthe meat and produce stands,

(38:05):
was, as always have been from the prior years, on this night,
at the forefront of preparing the holiday feast.
On this occasion, however, he was determined to make this
year's Lore Night feast bigger and more gluttonous than any
before and any to come. The Timberman of Berkinshire
begin to double the size of the festive pyre as insurance for

(38:28):
its continuous burning. It seemed that the commoners
intended for this year's Lore night to be the biggest and
boldest of them all, as if it may be their last.
And for many of them, this nightwould indeed be their very last.
The setting sun saw the lightingof the festive pyre in the
center of town. Many gasped in awe and

(38:50):
excitement at the monumental height of the hungry, scorching
flames, easily tripling the height and overall size of years
before. At this, the masses hastily
flocked to the tables adorned with a gratuitous feast.
Indeed, the market clerk and those in his assistants had
outdone themselves, for even upon the setting sun's last

(39:12):
glimmer, many were still preoccupied with forging
themselves on the delectable meal and were unable to tell
their tales they had prepared all year.
For on this night, that is, except for one man, this man
declined silently to partake in the feast.
No one saw him touch so much as even a single crumb from the

(39:34):
Bountiful buffet. One or two individuals
approached him, attempting to extend warm invitations to join
in on the Bountiful banquet. The Stranger answered these
advances with only a cold, stoic, and malignant stare.
Upon witnessing this behavior from the stranger, many in the
congregated mass began to feel the slight chill crawl up their

(39:55):
spines as they observed the stranger lingering near the
festive bonfire, whose heat began to grow so immense as to
be felt by all in the nearby vicinity.
Even as the heat of the blaze intensified, however, the
stranger wouldn't remove the long, dark, ashen Gray trench
coat whose collar was erected upwards as to conceal his face.

(40:18):
Only exposing the eyes under thebrim of his pitch black, wide
brimmed hat. As he stood so close to the pyre
that the congregation began to wonder what kept him from being
set ablaze himself. The features of the strangers,
or lack thereof, became more pronounced.
The muted strangers eyes were covered in red, raging.

(40:41):
Veins giving them an appearance not wholly dissimilar to a rabid
animal, the irises were as devoid of hue as the trench coat
that concealed his features fromview in the center.
However, the stranger's pupils were somehow even darker than
the night sky above itself, as if looking into them could cause
one to be stripped of their soulin a matter of mere seconds.

(41:05):
Despite the stranger's foreboding presence, the
attending mass gathered around the towering inferno that was
the festive pyre as it was time for the nights tales to be told.
However, despite the years time spent preparing for this very
moment, none in attendance couldremember what stories they came
to tell. None, that is, except for the

(41:28):
stranger, whose gaze still fixedon the dance of the large flames
before them all. So you've gathered here for
stories, have you? Uttered a cracked horse voice.
As if the speech was performed under some sort of intense
strain on the vocal cords, the horse and strained words were

(41:49):
every individual ear had perceived them.
There was a clear stance of absolute certainty in everyone's
minds that the voice was indeed that of the stranger, who until
that very moment remained distantly cold and completely
mute. This sudden shift in the
stranger's behavior caused the attending mass to take aback in

(42:11):
shock. I will share a story with you
all, a story to make you realizethe mistake that you've all made
and have made for a generation. Now at this statement, a
dreadful chill overtook the wind's breeze, causing the
patrons to shiver despite the ever blazing inferno before

(42:33):
them. This abrupt temperature change
caused some to position themselves closer to the flames
in a feeble attempt to find somesemblance of warmth amid this
suddenly chilling air. An attempt that proved futile,
as if the very essence of the flames natural heat had been
taken away, leaving them to dance wildly about atop the

(42:55):
festive pyre. This abrupt phenomena, coupled
with the formerly mute and mysterious strangers threatening
and rather ominous statement, forced an air of unease and a
jarring sense of dread to spreadthroughout the congregation.
None of you believe in the entities and whose names you

(43:15):
forge through the tales of fiction from, effectively
dishonouring the respect and fear they were once due.
None of the patrons in the present Mass knew how to
comprehend the mysterious strangers abrasive claims.
Surely, they optimistically thought, this facade is nothing
except a mere act of a tactic for captivating the audience's

(43:38):
attention. This was Lore Night, a night of
fun and cheer in the regaling offolk legends, of Elder Days and
the tall tales molded by the tricks of eager imaginations,
not the Grimm and macabre. As was implied by the.
Stranger, the tale I tell you now was the story of my land

(43:59):
from which I hail. Take special care to listen for
when suffering comes upon you all.
You may then know, when you're beating hearts and your tortured
souls, the full extent of those who you and your mockeries have
disgraced. This tale.
The stranger began remaining stiff, as if he were a statue

(44:23):
cut from marble or granite, withhis unwaveringly menacing glare
eternally fixed within the festive pyre's flames.
Begins with the priest of my native land, Father Durkenshaw.
You see, the Father was a good man, a righteous man only as he

(44:45):
was. The wills and righteous ways of
the God blinded the good Father to the dangerous arrogance of
closing his mind to the powers beyond the grasp of even the
Heavenly Father's might to contest.
As the stranger continued his blasphemous, macabre narration,
a stench of decay and formaldehyde laced the air that

(45:08):
was breathed by the congregated audience.
Forcing more than many of them to begin to gag whilst others
attempted the banquets they enjoyed profusely from being
emptied from their stomachs. Father Durkenshaw, the stranger
continued, had no tolerance for any such aspect of life that was

(45:28):
not deemed as being of God's will.
Much like you all, Father Durkenshaw was all too swift to
brush away anything deemed not of holy merit as but mere
illusions of deluded and perverted minds.
The Father conducted his life inthis manner for many
generations, blissfully ignorantof the forces that play beyond

(45:51):
the sacred rites of the Christian faith.
The flames began to shift color from the bright orange to an
infernal red. All at once, the formerly lost
heat returned twofold, forcing the patrons to profusely.
Sweat beyond the mild physical discomfort, however, was an

(46:12):
infernal terror that this as well as the previous phenomena
must in some way or another be connected to the Stranger.
This collectively agreed upon conclusion was not voiced by
any, however, to not draw any undesirable attention to
themselves, as well as to feed their equally growing sense of

(46:32):
morbid curiosity in hearing exactly where the stranger story
would go next. The stranger's eyes widened
further, pronouncing their disturbing appearance.
That is. He continued, his voice further
distorting with each uttered word, until the arrival of a

(46:52):
conjurer whose very nature couldand did challenge the will of
the church. No one knows where he wandered
from, as no one could remember any interaction with him.
They hadn't even known of his name.
The surrounding darkness outsideof the immediate radius of the
bonfire's light began to crawl inward close to the towering

(47:16):
blaze, engulfing nearly all of the congregated patrons, leaving
only a few to be spared from theshadows by the ever raging
fire's light. Whimpers of terrified anxiety
rose amongst them as they begin to lose sight of each other in
the encroaching void, whilst thestranger, still illuminated in

(47:36):
the glow of the blaze, continuedregaling them of his ghostly
testament. The stranger began to finally
undo the buttons of his trench coat, though not quite yet
enough to expose any of his features apart from his corpse
like eyes. You see, the conjurer wished to
live in peace amongst the natives.

(47:57):
The stranger continued, his cold, sinister gaze appearing to
cause the flames to dance more viciously upon the festive pyre
than before. But his?
Hunger and conflicting practicesforced him into a life of cold
solitude. He would spend his days in a
blissful hibernation and would walk the land under the moon's

(48:19):
glow that alone while trivial and mysterious to the commoners.
Was not what caused them to shunhim, it was his unnatural
palette for living blood. It was at this very moment when
the now captivated mass begin toperceive what they could only
describe being the chilling laughter of a pack of hyenas who

(48:43):
lost themselves to some sort of state of hysteria.
Hearing these cackles, certain individuals found themselves
grateful in an odd sort of way that the oppressive darkness
that now nearly swallowed each and every individual had
rendered them unable to see Evenso much of their hands in front
of their faces. Lest they would be forced to

(49:05):
envision whatever demonic beingsthat could produce such a noise.
Despite the increasingly overwhelming urge to attempt a
flight from the morbid phenomenon occurring in the city
center, none in the congregationcould find within them the
strength of will even to flee infear.
The strangers ghoulish narrativecontinued despite the

(49:26):
infectiously spreading dread amongst the mass.
Who were now swallowed in entirety by the looming shadow.
His taste, his lust for warm, fresh blood could never be sated
for such in the existence of onesuch as he always craving, never
enough. However, in spite of his

(49:48):
ravenous nature, he wished only peace to the village folk.
For many years he would live offthe blood of the livestock.
One night upon his awakening, the conjurer had spied upon a
beautiful maiden, the most beautiful of any in the long
recorded history of this lifetime.
To ever have and ever would walkthese lands, the love birthed

(50:14):
within him. Had not been felt since his
conception into this earth. The manic howls from deep within
the looming shadows became louder, growing closer and more
pronounced. Much the same fashion as a flock
of predators encircling their helpless victims, allowing the
venomous fear to cripple mind and body before gorging

(50:35):
themselves upon the fresh pound of flesh.
Screams and shrieks of fright rang out into the ever
persisting darkness as glints ofmaliciously ravenous eyes shown
as Crimson as that of the rubiesencrusted within the trinkets of
the maidens present in the horrific scene of unholy events.
Having left with no conceivable alternative for escaping, the

(50:58):
menacing darkness and whatever malevolent evils within the mass
began to congregate as close to the blazing festive pyre as was
physically possible. Yet still taking great care to
space away from the stranger, asif wandering too close to his
presence, may see them afflictedby some nature of unsaintly
power that he may supposedly possess.

(51:21):
What be thy lordly given names, Sir, from the distant lands
beyond? She asked the mysterious
conjurer. The stranger's narrative
continued. To this the conjurer spoke to
her the very name that reigns the utmost supremacy in the land
that I hail. I, my sweet, delicate blossom,

(51:44):
am Lord Vladimir Clavicleus of the Eastern Kingdoms.
The. Stranger roared the name aloud,
causing the blaze to flare in anangry burst and the deranged
howls and cackles within the consuming darkness to bark out
into the open night, creeping ever closer to the center.
As swiftly as his eyes could entrap hers, her heart succumbed

(52:09):
to his lustful whims. Many a night following, the
proud Lord Clavicleus would callher from her tower to meet him
purely for the consumption of her precious blood from her
beautifully porcelain neck. It was said that Lord
Clavicleus's bite filled the maiden's heart with further
desire for him. For each night, she was said to

(52:32):
have grown restless, impatient for her consort's return.
At this, many within the congregation began to feel cold,
petite hands softly caressing their bare flesh as the cackles
within the consuming void continue to advance upon them.
Soft inane whispers were heard by each ear in the captive mass,

(52:53):
almost appearing as sensual, thestranger of whose damning glare,
never arrested from the ceaseless fury of the furious
flames within the festive pyre, continued whilst his voice
further stripped away into a malicious rattle pyre hatred as
his tail went on. Oh, her blood did he drink,

(53:14):
drink and drink until she no longer answered her master's
siren call. For many a night he had searched
for her, starving of the young mistress's blood when he
discovered the truth of her absence.
For after they last met, the natives spoke against her to the
ever righteous Father Durkin Shao, who in all his holy

(53:37):
practices ruled her to the worldand Holy Father above as a
witch, a devil's familiar which their faith unwavering in their
blind convictions. The distraught Lord discovered
that his maiden had been felled like many a maiden caught victim
to blind conviction by a raging fire.

(53:58):
Like this before you all now? Screams of inhuman agony deafens
the congregation as the wild, untamed flames began to shape
and form themselves into the form of a delicate young maiden.
Just as soon as its fiery birth was complete, a blackened maw
opened that released an agonizedwail that invoked an unutterable

(54:20):
pain and sorrow that blended with the presently potent fear
within the mass that could not and would not waver.
As the flames returned to their former state, unyielding in
their enraged ferocity, the stranger began again.
His ghastly vocals took on an air of aggression, Vengeance.

(54:43):
His inhuman voice barked. Vengeance he swore to exact on
those whose holy ways LED them to commit this atrocity upon
them. In the cold night he came, many
a mourn following. The families would find more of
their dear beloved gone in the night, only to be spied upon the

(55:03):
succeeding dusk. As one of the disciples of the
Nosferatu Lord Vladimir Clavicleus, I condemn you all,
you bleeding sheep of the Lord. He roared to them.
One full moon twilight. Damn you.
Damn you all whose faith blinds you to the wills existent beyond

(55:25):
God's law. Your actions, deemed righteous
by your God because of your lackof vision and lack of control,
stripped me of what I held dear to me.
For this I declare that as long as I am bound to walk these
lands with earthly feet, the setting sun on this night, for
every generation to come, myselfand my dwellers of the night

(55:48):
will come. Any of whom we spy in their play
we shall strip away from you as you stripped her away from me.
For this I swear to you, and allwhose faith and corrupted
practice conduct your lives. For this knight will belong to
us, the Nosferatu the vampire. I christen this very gravely

(56:12):
dusk, along with every such thatrecurs on every century to come
as the Nosferatu knot the vampire's knight.
And upon his declaration's conclusion, the vampire Lord
Clavicleis began his dark campaign with saving his feral
ire with the blood he spilled from the great priest Father

(56:36):
Dirkenshaw. Many perished at the wrath and
burning ire for the warm, innocent blood that night before
the sun rose, warding him away until the next annual cycle
awakened him, concluding in the same grotesque manner as before.
The abysmal cacophony intensified to a deafening

(56:56):
pitch, with only the strangers ghoulishly rasping voice being
able to be distinguished separately from that night and
every Nosferatu knocked since Lord Clavicleis has walked on
this cold night, saving his. Desire for blood on those who
foolishly neglect to pay credence to his words.

(57:18):
Upon the conclusion of the stranger's horrifying anecdote,
the mad cackles of malice abruptly died, shrouding the
congregation in a jarring silence, save only for the
crackling of the flames as the stranger began to remove his
trench coat and hat for the first time, revealing A gaunt
and Bony face bound with Gray clammy flesh pulled taut over

(57:41):
his skull and long wispy strandsof albino hair.
His cold blue dead lips began topark upwards into a deranged
bullpine grin that exposed unnaturally long, thin canine
molars as sharp as the nobleman's dagger.
Upon sight of this, a young maiden from the terror stricken

(58:02):
audience squealed out. Who?
Are you? The stranger, stealing his gaze
away from the festive pyre for the first time, fixed his eyes
to her. My dear delicate blossom, I am
Lord Vladimir, Clavicleus of theEastern Kingdoms, and tonight is

(58:23):
Nosferatu NAHT, the Vampire's Night.
At the chilling revelation, the blazing fire burst skyward
defiantly into the air to illuminate the hordes of beasts
that took residence in lurking darkness only moments before,
every one of them bearing their vicious fangs.

(58:44):
For indeed, these were the disciples of the Vampire
Clavicleus. No sooner than the first squeal
of hysteria was let out that thestranger, the Vampire Lord
Clavicleus, bared his fangs, rolling his eyes back into his
skull with pleasure as he clamped his jaw around the young
maiden's neck, savouring every last amount of Crimson he could

(59:06):
take from her. As he rose from her, now
stripped of life, the once furious flames abruptly ceased,
shrouding the helpless mass in complete darkness as the
Nosferatu came upon them, try asthey might.
None of the. Commoners could escape the
inhuman and supernatural clutches of the scourging beasts

(59:28):
as they were swept away and tornapart like a herd of lamb amid
the wolves den from what must have been every direction in the
impossible looming darkness, no cries for mercy were heard or
heeded. When the sun rose that morn
silence had laid its claim to Burkinshire.

(59:49):
All that remained of the events of the Accursed Night were the
smoldering embers of the festivepyre and the mutilated and
exsanguinated remains of the Lore Night mass, now set to
become eternally bound to the tradition of the Nosferatu.
Nacht. On December 17th, 1938, nineteen

(01:00:21):
year old college graduate Margaret Martin left her home in
Kingston, PA to meet with an unknown man who offered her a
potential secretarial job. When she failed to return,
Martin's family reported her missing and began a search of
the surrounding area. Four days later, her body was
discovered in the wilderness around 20 miles away.

(01:00:43):
She had been horribly tortured, mutilated and strangled before
her bound and trust body was dumped in a mountain stream
where it was found by a hunter. There were few clues as door
killer's identity except the owner of a sawmill reported
interrupting an unknown trespasser and police believe

(01:01:05):
this is where the murder occurred.
Witnesses came forward with the description of a man seen with
Martin around the time of her disappearance, but no one has
ever been arrested and charged in connection with her murder.
At the beginning of December 1938, Margaret Martin graduated
with honors from Wilkes Barre Business College, having

(01:01:25):
attended classes to gain secretarial skills to find work
as a stenographer. A former classmate, Betty
Hopkins, described her as a shy,studious, friendly girl who had
many friends and she was well liked within the community of
Kingston in Luzerne County, Pennsylvania.
Her parents raised Margaret and her siblings as devout Catholics

(01:01:48):
and her father, John Martin, wasa coal mine foreman and member
of the local Democratic committee.
The Martins had four children, of which 19 year old Margaret
was the eldest and included 17 year old Mary, 15 year old Helen
and 12 year old Jack. Margaret Martin was contacted
the Saturday morning of December17th, 1938 by an unknown man who

(01:02:12):
offered her a job. He explained he was setting up
an insurance company and was in need of a qualified stenographer
and had a suitable secretarial position available.
He added that he had heard of her through the Wilkes Barre
Business College. Miss Martin was gleefully
anticipating her first job sincegraduating college and looking

(01:02:32):
forward to earning some money before the Christmas holidays,
so she agreed to meet with a manat Kingston Corners, located not
far from the Martin family home.When she left the house that
morning to keep her appointment with the mysterious telephone
caller, Margaret promised her parents she would return home
immediately. It would be the last time they

(01:02:53):
saw her alive. When she failed to appear by the
evening, her worried family and friends contacted the police and
reported her missing. During the investigation into
her disappearance, police and volunteers conducted a search of
the surrounding area. Several witnesses came forward
with information pertinence to the case.

(01:03:15):
Martin was seen the day of her disappearance in conversation
with an unknown man and then getting into what was described
as a black sedan or brown Plymouth.
The description given of the manwas vague and he was believed to
be a suave, neat, sandy haired young man, slightly overweight
and between the ages of 25 and 30 years old.

(01:03:37):
None of the witnesses were able to identify the license plate of
the car. There were numerous theories on
what might have happened to MissMartin, with some believing she
had been kidnapped. The absence of a ransom note
seemed to indicate that it was more likely she was either the
victim of a sex maniac or had fallen victim to white slaver
traders. The search failed to find any

(01:04:00):
trace of her, and the publicity surrounding the disappearance
was Hanford. Because the local.
Newspapers were on strike. On December 21st, 1938, several
days after she vanished, the body of Margaret Martin was
discovered in the Wyoming CountyWoodlands, around 25 miles from
her home. 19 year old Anthony Rezakowski was out trapping

(01:04:22):
muskrats in the forested area when he made the grim discovery.
As he places snares under a footbridge, he noticed a large
burlap sack that had been partially submerged in 2 feet of
shallow water in Keelersburg Creek, which was 8 miles from
Tunkanock. When he went to investigate
further, he noticed the bag had been stitched with twine and one

(01:04:45):
of the knots had slipped open, revealing a human arm.
When he peeked inside, he saw the naked body of a young woman
and immediately notified the police.
It was soon identified as the body of Margaret Martin and it
was determined she had been deadfor at least 24 hours.
Tracks along the tiny Killersburg Creek were blotted

(01:05:06):
out by snow and state troopers searched the immediate area
looking for clues. The coroner concluded from the
bruises to her neck that the cause of death was
strangulation, but she suffered many other wounds and she had
been tortured and mutilated by her killer.
Her body showed signs of having been beaten with a large object,

(01:05:27):
possibly a rock, and there were knife wounds to her stomach and
thigh. The coroner commented that she
had suffered the molestation of a degenerate.
Her family was notified and JohnMartin said of his daughter.
Our little girl fought for herself and died, the pure girl
she was, while her mother said she is with God today.

(01:05:52):
Lieutenant Charles S Cook headeda detail of the state police
investigation into the murder and asserted the killer was
apparently someone familiar withthe Wyoming Woodlands who had
driven a car to roughly 75 yardsfrom the bridge, then carried
the body to the spot where it was found.
He reiterated this fact by saying someone familiar with the

(01:06:13):
territory placed the body in theCreek and it might not have been
found for several years if the young man setting traps had not
passed through the lonely section.
Because of the remote location of the discovery and how the
body was found, Lieutenant Cook was convinced that the murder
took place somewhere else. The owner of a Forkston sawmill,
James KED, reported finding a trespasser on his property and

(01:06:37):
fired a warning shot in the intruders direction, apparently
scaring the man off. This incident occurred the day
before Martin's body was discovered and the sawmill was
12 miles from Keelersburg Creek.Police theorized the trespasser
was the killer who murdered Martin inside the sawmill and
then attempted to dismember her body and destroy it in the mills

(01:06:59):
firebox. Ashes were recovered from the
sawmill boiler and police were confident there would contain
particles of clothing worn by Miss Martin, along with metal
fragments believed to be a dressornament.
However, these were analyzed by a Wilkes Bar chemist and found
to contain only waste material. Major William Clark, the Third

(01:07:22):
Squadron commander who headed the State Police investigation,
concluded that the sawmill theory had been almost
eliminated, but more inquiries would be made.
The only clues left with the body were the two burlap bags in
which the body was found, a length of sashcore that had
bound the body, and a gentleman's silk scarf which had

(01:07:44):
no identifying marks. On December 22nd, the Scranton
Tribune predicted that the killer would be captured within
the following 24 hours. The funeral of Margaret Martin
was held on December 24th at Saint Ignatius Church in
Kingston, and hundreds of peoplewere in attendance.
Several plainclothes officers were also present, working on

(01:08:07):
the belief they might spot someone acting suspiciously.
Four days later, on December 28th, Pennsylvania State Senator
Leo C Mundy declared that he would introduce a bill at the
next state legislature which would make sex crimes punishable
by execution. It would also include the
registration of all sex offenders and the requirement of

(01:08:29):
all physicians, social and welfare workers to report anyone
who exhibited such tendencies. Senator Mundy was prompted to
introduce this bill as a direct result of Margaret Martin's
brutal murder. The Deputy Commissioner of the
State Police, Colonel Cecil M Wilhelm, predicted that the

(01:08:49):
mystery of her death would someday be solved.
The investigation explored many other avenues, including a
suspicious vehicle seen parked at the mountain cabin on the
night of the murder, which mighthave belonged to the killer but
was soon ruled out when the owner gave police a satisfactory
explanation for his movements inthe area.

(01:09:10):
Further. Leads also LED nowhere.
A reported incident where a bundle of clothing thrown from a
car near Orwigsburg was suspected to be the killer
disposing of Martin's clothes but proved to be unrelated.
Officers attempts to check a statement that a witness
attributed to a Kingston man whoallegedly said I'm going to make

(01:09:32):
a date with that Martin girl or break my neck in the attempt
proved fruitless. By early 1939, most leads in the
case either fizzled out or resulted in a dead end for
detectives. The manhunt for the killer would
continue and by February 1939, many suspects were investigated

(01:09:54):
and discounted. 2 men who attempted to attack a 16 year
old girl from Hanover Township in Luzerne County were
questioned and cleared. Many locals have their theories
on who the killer might be, suchas a mortician from Wyoming
County. A local assistant pastor.
A businessman's son who left thearea soon after the murder, a

(01:10:16):
local teenager who had a crush on the victim, and a teacher at
the Wilkes Barre Business college who held an infatuation
with Martin. The case was the most baffling
mystery the local and state police had ever encountered.
In June 1939, the Luzerne CountyDistrict Attorney's Office
announced there would be no request to Luzerne County

(01:10:38):
Commissioners to offer a reward for the capture of the killer.
However, it was disclosed that new clues had surfaced in the
case, which might soon lead to the arrest of one of two
suspects. He did not specify what those
clues were, nor whether an arrest was imminent.
Despite this promising development, nothing further was

(01:11:00):
revealed and no arrests were made.
In September 19, 4221, year old Orban Taylor of New York City
confessed to Scranton police that he was responsible for the
death of Margaret Martin. Taylor was formerly a resident
of Wilkes Barre and told investigators that he visited
the area while serving in the USArmy.

(01:11:21):
Despite his admission of guilt, Taylor was unable to reveal to
detectives how he disposed of the victim's clothing, which had
never been found. After more than 10 hours of
questioning, the young man repudiated his confession.
New York Detective Captain George W Donaldson, who was
leading the investigation, explained that the military

(01:11:44):
authorities at Fort Jade joins the investigation being
conducted by the State Motor Police and the Federal Bureau of
Investigation because Taylor hadbeen dishonorably discharged
from the Army. Although he denied murdering
Miss Martin, he did confess to other crimes, including several
robberies, a stabbing in New York, and of defrauding several

(01:12:06):
hotels in Philadelphia, Newark, NJ, and Elizabeth, NJ.
Subsequently, he was not chargedwith murder.
In the decades after her murder,the circumstances of Margaret
Martin's death are still unexplained and her killer has
never been brought to justice. Many of those who worked the

(01:12:27):
case came to believe the man responsible must have been a
local because of his knowledge of the area, while others
suspect it might have been the work of a serial killer.
Despite the advancement of forensic science techniques, the
case remains unsolved. In the vast labyrinth of

(01:12:57):
unsolved true crime cases, few have captured the public's
imagination quite like the perplexing vanishing of Doctors
Sneha and Phillip. A brilliant and ambitious young
physician, Doctor Phillips life came to an inexplicable halt on
September 10th, 2001, right before the tumultuous chaos of

(01:13:18):
the 9/11 terrorist attacks in New York City.
Her sudden disappearance, overshadowed by the devastating
events of that fateful day, leftlaw enforcement, friends, and
family grappling with the question, what happened to Sneha
Ann Phillip? Doctor Sneha Ann Phillip was

(01:13:39):
born on October 7th, 1969, in India, and from an early age, it
was evidence that she possessed an unwavering determination to
succeed. She ventured to the United
States to pursue her dream of becoming a medical professional,
eventually graduating with honors from the Chicago College
of Osteopathic Medicine in 1995.With her aspirations firmly

(01:14:02):
rooted, she moved to the vibrantmetropolis of New York City,
where she completed her residency at the prestigious
Cabrini Medical Center in Manhattan.
On the morning of September 10th, 2001, the world had no
inkling of the darkness that wasabout to envelope it, nor did
anyone anticipate the inexplicable fate that awaited

(01:14:25):
Dr. Sneha and Philip. She was seen leaving her Battery
Park City apartment that morning, her energy and optimism
a reflection of the city's bustling atmosphere.
Like countless other New Yorkers, she was heading to
work, preparing to fulfill her duties as a physician at the
Cabrini Medical Center. Surveillance cameras captured

(01:14:48):
footage of Doctor Phillip at a local grocery store near her
apartment that day, making a routine purchase, providing the
last glimpse of her before she vanished into thin air.
However, as night descended uponthe city, she failed to return
home, setting into motion a series of events that would

(01:15:08):
unravel an enigmatic puzzle. In the wake of the devastating
9/11 attacks, the search of Doctor Sneha and Phillip was
inevitably overshadowed by the urgency of finding survivors and
victims at Ground 0. Amidst the rubble and
destruction, the hunt for the missing physician was Hanford,

(01:15:29):
with her case receiving only fragmented attention.
As the dust settled and the enormity of the tragedy sank in,
investigators turned their focusto uncovering the truth behind
Doctor Phillips disappearance. Early on, they considered the
grim possibility that she had been tragically killed in the
terrorist attacks. Her apartment's proximity to

(01:15:51):
Ground 0 fueled this hypothesis,but it was soon challenged by
emerging evidence. Piercing together fragments of
her life, investigators unearthed a hidden side of
Doctor Philip that few knew about.
They discovered that she had struggled with alcohol related
issues, and her past included a brush with law for shoplifting

(01:16:12):
at the very grocery store that she was seen visiting on the day
she vanished. This line of inquiry suggested
that she might have wandered into obscurity, intentionally
disappearing to escape her problems.
However, just as investigators seemed to be settling on this
theory, eyewitnesses began to emerge offering possible

(01:16:34):
sightings of Sneha and Philip after September 10th, 2001.
One individual claimed to have seen her in a Manhattan hospital
on September 11th, 2001, while others testified to spotting her
in different parts of the city in the days immediately
following the attacks. These accounts injected fresh

(01:16:56):
uncertainty into the case and reignited hope that she might
still be alive. As the investigation progressed,
it became increasingly apparent that the circumstances
surrounding Doctor Phillips disappearance were far from
straightforward. The trail grew colder with each
passing day, leaving investigators with more

(01:17:16):
questions than answers. The inexplicable disappearance
of Doctor Sneha and Phillip opened the floodgates of
speculation and gave rise to a myriad of theories. 1 prevailing
theory was that she met with a tragic end on September 11th and
her remains were obliterated amidst the rubble of the
collapsing World Trade Center towers.

(01:17:39):
This idea, while tragic, offereda measure of closure to some,
though it failed to explain the alleged sightings of her in the
days that followed. Conversely, the theory of a
voluntary disappearance gains traction as investigators
uncovered the complexities of Doctor Phillips personal
struggles. Some postulated that the stress

(01:17:59):
of her past legal troubles and potential relapse may have
culminated in her deciding to reinvent herself in a new life,
far removed from the constraintsof her previous existence.
But even this theory left many unanswered questions, especially
regarding the alleged sightings and the absence of any
communication from the missing doctor.

(01:18:21):
As time passed, darker theories emerged suggesting that Doctor
Philip might have fallen victim to human trafficking or
abduction, explaining the lack of contact with her family and
friends. These conjectures, while
terrifying, lacked concrete evidence and only added to the
complexity of the case. The disappearance of Doctor

(01:18:44):
Sneha and Philip remains an enigma, wrapped in a puzzle
concealed by the shroud of time and tragedy.
As the years drift by, hope to finding her alive diminishes,
but the embers of determination to solve the case still flicker
within the hearts of her family and friends.
The mystery of Doctor Phillips disappearance serves as a

(01:19:07):
haunting reminder of the frailtyof human existence and the
profound impact a single individual can have on the lives
they leave behind until new evidence comes to light.
The fate of Doctor Sneha and Phillip will continue to remain
an indelible stain on the canvasof true crime history and

(01:19:29):
enduring enigma that defies resolution.

(01:29:17):
Yeah. Yeah.

(01:33:30):
Yeah.

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Scary Stories For A Rainy Night - Ep. 193 - Don’t Stop on Old Creek Road

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.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. 193 - Don’t Stop on Old Creek Road