WEBVTT - The Haunted Farmstay

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<v Speaker 1>At pod Shape Production. Welcome back to the Chills, the

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<v Speaker 1>Spooky Story podcast. That's hard to believe, unless, of course,

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<v Speaker 1>it happened to you. If you've got a story you

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<v Speaker 1>want to share that might give us the chills, then

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<v Speaker 1>send it in the Chills at podshape dot com. This

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<v Speaker 1>story is from Ben. He emailed it in. He lives

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<v Speaker 1>in Perth and it seems it happened to him a

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<v Speaker 1>few years ago. Ben says he needed to leave the

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<v Speaker 1>hustle and bustle of Perth, Western Australia and get out

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<v Speaker 1>of the city. He wanted a country break time to

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<v Speaker 1>clear his head. It was late October. We've used an

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<v Speaker 1>AI voice actor for Ben's email.

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<v Speaker 2>I found this old weatherboard cottage on a farm stay website,

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<v Speaker 2>a quiet little place out in the bush. The photos

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<v Speaker 2>made it look rustic but cozy, and the idea of

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<v Speaker 2>being surrounded by nothing but gum trees and kangaroos sounded perfect.

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<v Speaker 2>The cottage was ancient, probably built in the early nineteen hundreds.

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<v Speaker 2>It had thick wooden beams, a tin roof and one

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<v Speaker 2>of those verandahs that wrapped around the entire house. The

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<v Speaker 2>owner mentioned it had been part of a sheep station

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<v Speaker 2>for generations, but these days it was mostly left vacant,

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<v Speaker 2>rented out to people like me who wanted to get

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<v Speaker 2>away from it all. It was a good couple of

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<v Speaker 2>hours from Perth, with the nearest neighbor about five k's away.

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<v Speaker 2>As soon as I got there, I knew it was

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<v Speaker 2>the quiet I'd been craving. The first few days were uneventful,

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<v Speaker 2>just what I needed. I'd wake up early to the

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<v Speaker 2>sound of magpies warbling and spend the day reading, wandering

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<v Speaker 2>around the property, and soaking up the peacefulness. At night,

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<v Speaker 2>the stars were incredible, the kind of sky you only

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<v Speaker 2>see in the outback, far away from any light pollution.

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<v Speaker 2>But on the fourth night, something changed. I woke up

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<v Speaker 2>in the middle of the night for no reason at all.

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<v Speaker 2>The room was pitch black save for a bit of

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<v Speaker 2>moonlight sneaking in through the old, threadbare curtains. As I

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<v Speaker 2>lay there trying to get back to sleep, I heard

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<v Speaker 2>something outside. At first I thought it was an animal,

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<v Speaker 2>a kangaroo maybe, or a possum, But then I heard

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<v Speaker 2>it again, footsteps, slow and heavy, moving across the verandah

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<v Speaker 2>my heart started to race. I wasn't expecting anyone, and

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<v Speaker 2>the place was so isolated it didn't make sense for

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<v Speaker 2>anyone to just show up. I listened harder, straining to

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<v Speaker 2>hear anything else, but the only sound was the footsteps

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<v Speaker 2>getting closer to the front door. They stopped for a moment,

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<v Speaker 2>then moved down the side of the house, just outside

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<v Speaker 2>my bedroom window. I couldn't see anything through the curtains,

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<v Speaker 2>but I felt a cold draft slipping in, like the

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<v Speaker 2>air had changed. I tried to brush it off as

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<v Speaker 2>an overactive imagination. Maybe I was just hearing things. I

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<v Speaker 2>told myself. The house was old, and the the bush

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<v Speaker 2>plays tricks on your mind when you're alone. But the

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<v Speaker 2>next night it happened again. This time I was wide

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<v Speaker 2>awake when I heard the footsteps. They started at the

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<v Speaker 2>front door, slow and deliberate, making their way down the verandah,

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<v Speaker 2>but this time they didn't stop. I heard the faintest

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<v Speaker 2>scraping sound, like fingernails dragging across the wooden boards outside

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<v Speaker 2>the window. It wasn't just footsteps now, there was something

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<v Speaker 2>or someone outside, and they weren't just passing by. My

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<v Speaker 2>stomach twisted into knots, but I stayed frozen in bed,

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<v Speaker 2>too scared to move. I didn't want to turn on

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<v Speaker 2>the light or make a sound. Whatever was out there,

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<v Speaker 2>I didn't want it to know I was awake. The

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<v Speaker 2>scraping stopped after a few minutes, and the house fell

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<v Speaker 2>silent again, But I didn't sleep for the rest of

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<v Speaker 2>the night.

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<v Speaker 1>Okay, So I have a few questions that I'd love

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<v Speaker 1>to know from Ben. He can't answer them, so I'll

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<v Speaker 1>ask you. The first is, who actually does that? Who

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<v Speaker 1>decides to take a break from the city to go

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<v Speaker 1>to a deserted farmer's cottage in the middle of nowhere?

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<v Speaker 1>I mean, Ben, I don't mean to be rude, but

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<v Speaker 1>have you seen shows like Wolf Creek?

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<v Speaker 2>What the bloody lu buck is doing out here? This

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<v Speaker 2>is a national park. You can't can't be here, mate.

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<v Speaker 1>Judgment aside, what does Ben do? If you're thinking like

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<v Speaker 1>I am, He packs the car, doesn't clean the place,

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<v Speaker 1>and drives very fast to the nearest motel that has

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<v Speaker 1>other people in it and was built after the early

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<v Speaker 1>nineteen hundreds, Then you're wrong, Ben stays.

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<v Speaker 2>I woke up in the middle of the night, disoriented.

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<v Speaker 2>The room was dark save for a sliver of moonlight.

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<v Speaker 2>As I lay there, I noticed an odd noise, A

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<v Speaker 2>faint tapping rhythmic coming from the kitchen. At first, I

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<v Speaker 2>thought it was just something loose in the wind, maybe

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<v Speaker 2>a branch knocking against the window. But as I listened,

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<v Speaker 2>it became clear the sound wasn't outside, it was coming

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<v Speaker 2>from within the house. I grabbed my phone for light

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<v Speaker 2>and cautiously crept down the hall. The tapping continued, steady

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<v Speaker 2>and deliberate. When I reached the kitchen, I shone the

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<v Speaker 2>light towards the sauce. There on the wooden table was

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<v Speaker 2>an old, rusty teapot that I hadn't noticed before. It

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<v Speaker 2>rocked slightly, it spout, tapping the edge of the table.

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<v Speaker 2>I stared at it for a long moment, waiting for

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<v Speaker 2>the movement to stop. Finally, after what felt like ages,

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<v Speaker 2>it did. I couldn't explain it, but I convinced myself

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<v Speaker 2>it was just the wind or some quirk of the

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<v Speaker 2>old house. I went back to bed, but sleep didn't

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<v Speaker 2>come easily.

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<v Speaker 1>Okay, so maybe that's the cue. Maybe now then just

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<v Speaker 1>jumps in the car and leaves right Ben.

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<v Speaker 2>On the third night, things got worse.

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<v Speaker 1>Come on, Ben, what are you doing?

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<v Speaker 2>I was drifting off when I heard something again, but

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<v Speaker 2>this time it was louder, the sound of footsteps, heavy

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<v Speaker 2>and unmistakable, moving across the verandah, just outside the front door.

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<v Speaker 2>My heart started racing, but I told myself it was

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<v Speaker 2>probably a kangaroo or an emun. They sometimes wander onto

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<v Speaker 2>properties curious and club. But then the footsteps stopped and

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<v Speaker 2>I heard something else, low guttural breathing, like someone or

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<v Speaker 2>something was standing right outside the door. I froze listening.

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<v Speaker 2>The breathing became more labored, as though it was right

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<v Speaker 2>against the door, straining to get in. I didn't dare move.

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<v Speaker 2>After a few minutes, the sound stopped and there was

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<v Speaker 2>a heavy silence. I thought it was over, but then

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<v Speaker 2>came the most unsettling part, a soft but distinct knock

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<v Speaker 2>on the door, like someone was gently testing to see

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<v Speaker 2>if i'd answer. I didn't move. I couldn't. The knocking

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<v Speaker 2>came again, this time louder, more insistent, but I still

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<v Speaker 2>didn't respond. I stayed perfectly, still, holding my breath until

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<v Speaker 2>the noise finally stopped and the house was silent again.

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<v Speaker 2>It took a long time for me to fall asleep

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<v Speaker 2>that night. The next morning, I packed up and left.

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<v Speaker 2>I didn't bother cleaning the place up or leaving a

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<v Speaker 2>note for the owner. I just wanted to get out

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<v Speaker 2>of there. I didn't even look back as I drove

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<v Speaker 2>down the long dirt road that led away from the property.

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<v Speaker 2>I couldn't shake the feeling that someone or something had

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<v Speaker 2>been watching me that night.

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<v Speaker 1>If you've got a story that can give us the chills,

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<v Speaker 1>then email us the Chills at podshape dot com. See

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<v Speaker 1>you next time.