Speaker 1: Thirteen days of Halloween is a production of I heart radio,
Speaker 1: Blumhouse television and grim and mild from Aaron mankey headphones recommended.
Speaker 1: Listener discretion advised. Ah, good evening, dear friend. Welcome to
Speaker 1: Hawthorne Manners Grand Ball Room. There are two rather curious
Speaker 1: things you may notice about this place. The first of course,
Speaker 1: the ghostly music which seems to emanate from every wall.
Speaker 1: This is, in one sense, merely a trick of the
Speaker 1: masterful acoustics so magnificently trapping the sounds of celebrations past
Speaker 1: the way a kerchief might capture one's perfume. It is,
Speaker 1: in another more tragic sense, a sort of haunting, but
Speaker 1: let us not speak in metaphors. The second thing takes
Speaker 1: a bit longer to fully realize, though not readily apparent
Speaker 1: to the human eye. The ball room floor is suddenly
Speaker 1: warped and twisted and at certain points rises and drops.
Speaker 1: The Deep Auburn staining of the majestic hardwood renders these
Speaker 1: hazards effectively invisible. One wishes to believe that this was
Speaker 1: an accidental flaw in the architects otherwise flawless desire. But
Speaker 1: the architect was a solitary sort of man, and I
Speaker 1: believe that, despite his genius, or perhaps because of it,
Speaker 1: he disdained humanity. His daughter, however, had no such problem.
Speaker 1: In fact, she pined for human contact outside of her
Speaker 1: father and servants, and so begged him to throw a
Speaker 1: ball in her honor. I have a ballroom, if not
Speaker 1: to host dances, she asked him. He relented with the caveat.
Speaker 1: It was not to be a mere dance, but competition.
Speaker 1: Whatever couple made it through the long night should win
Speaker 1: a glamorous prize. On the appointed evening, a large crowd
Speaker 1: gathered at Hawthorne Manor and with a grand gesture, our
Speaker 1: architect signaled for the music to begin. Dozens of calls
Speaker 1: to flooded to the dance floor. Almost immediately there was
Speaker 1: a cry. A young woman had sprained her ankle then
Speaker 1: had to be carried off. Dances and witnesses alike shook
Speaker 1: their heads and pity, but before they could refocus their attentions,
Speaker 1: another had twisted her ankle, this time break it by
Speaker 1: the third injury. Mere moments later, those on the dance
Speaker 1: floor began to realize that something was amiss. The floor
Speaker 1: itself was a hazard to the dances it was built
Speaker 1: to injure, it is rumored at the architect watch from
Speaker 1: the balcony with Glee. Many continued to dance upon the
Speaker 1: twisted ballroom floor and by dawn one couple remained, their
Speaker 1: ankles bruised and bloodied. His daughter never forgave him this transgression.
Speaker 1: And what apparition do we find here? This delicate creature
Speaker 1: in white is known through Hawthorne manner as the bride.
Speaker 1: You two already have your unspoken names in common. I'll
Speaker 1: leave you to catch up on what else you may share.
Speaker 1: It's important to me that you know that I was
Speaker 1: in love, and love and young and stupid. It was
Speaker 1: a whirlwind Romance, Bradley and I. Twenty One century coffee
Speaker 1: shop meet cute, complete with spilled pour overs, the both
Speaker 1: of us apologizing in a scramble for Napkins. And our
Speaker 1: eyes met and he was the handsomest thing. I had
Speaker 1: ever seen, such kind eyes and a Hollywood jaw at
Speaker 1: the Sistine Chapel face. He was a work of art,
Speaker 1: just a beautiful, beautiful man. Bradley. He caught me there
Speaker 1: and I never let him let me go. Then we
Speaker 1: were married and it was like it happened the next day.
Speaker 1: We just wanted one another and could not slow down.
Speaker 1: A wedding reception was a blur of dancing and hubs
Speaker 1: from old friends and Champagne. God, the Champagne. I must
Speaker 1: have finished an entire bottle. And you know, if you're
Speaker 1: the bride, you don't get a lot of time to
Speaker 1: eat or sit still or stop to take it all in.
Speaker 1: So we toasted with friends and family late into the
Speaker 1: night and then we stumbled to our honeymoon suite. The
Speaker 1: alcohol made my cheeks feel rosy and gave the room
Speaker 1: some motion. Oh my God, Bradley's face. He was the
Speaker 1: only thing I could see, the only thing I wanted,
Speaker 1: and his chestnut eyes and strong shoulders and his body
Speaker 1: on mine. I was deliriously happy. We collapsed on the bed.
Speaker 1: He said something funny I don't remember. I wish I
Speaker 1: could remember every stupid joke he ever told me, but
Speaker 1: he said it and I laughed so loudly flinch. I
Speaker 1: jumped on him and took his movie star cheekbones in
Speaker 1: my hands. I pressed my face to his, but we
Speaker 1: were still laughing too hard to kiss. I wish I
Speaker 1: could remember him that way. I wish his face lived
Speaker 1: in me forever in that moment, but I fell back
Speaker 1: to my pillow and I don't remember sleep coming on,
Speaker 1: but it came. It felt like dreams came quickly, like
Speaker 1: I stepped out of the real world and into somewhere else.
Speaker 1: I was on the ocean floor, holding my breath, in
Speaker 1: the hull of a sunken ship. I felt pressure crushing
Speaker 1: in on me and it was very dim. The entire
Speaker 1: world was gray and heavy and I could barely move.
Speaker 1: I walked through the door of something that looked like
Speaker 1: a vault and there was a flash of light and
Speaker 1: I was staring at rows of long, sharp teeth, all
Speaker 1: curving in different directions. It was one of those anglerfish,
Speaker 1: those awful looking Zombie ie fish with the dangling light
Speaker 1: and the teeth like spears, and it caught me in
Speaker 1: its light and it unhinged its jaw and I couldn't scream.
Speaker 1: I couldn't scream, I couldn't move or look away, and
Speaker 1: it was just teeth in that terrible face. I woke
Speaker 1: up soaking wet and feeling panicked. Bradley was still on, asleep,
Speaker 1: and I reached out to touch his face, but my
Speaker 1: pillow was sticky. Oh my God, I'd thrown up. It
Speaker 1: was everywhere. I slid out of the bed. My head
Speaker 1: was throbbing and my eyes wouldn't adjust to the dark.
Speaker 1: I turned on the lamp and there was a flash
Speaker 1: of light that made me loozy again. When I could
Speaker 1: open my eyes see what I'd done, it was a mess.
Speaker 1: The sheets were ruined and Bradley was peacefully lying in
Speaker 1: the middle of it. It was awful. It looked like
Speaker 1: he was the one who had thrown up, there was
Speaker 1: so much pooled around his face. I went to Bradley's
Speaker 1: side and squeezed his shoulder. He rolled over his face,
Speaker 1: his face, it was eaten or melting. It was awful.
Speaker 1: where he'd been lying, his cheek, his jaw, his eye,
Speaker 1: half of his face, it was gone. It was red
Speaker 1: and modeled, it was bleeding, it was white, it was foaming,
Speaker 1: it was gone. Oh my God, his beautiful face. And
Speaker 1: I screamed and he woke up. I could see it hurt.
Speaker 1: He was confused and hurt and I wanted to hold
Speaker 1: him but I couldn't. I couldn't go near him and
Speaker 1: he stood by the bed and I backed against the
Speaker 1: other wall and he asked me what happened. He said,
Speaker 1: are you okay? Can you believe that? He was an
Speaker 1: agony and he was asking me if I was okay
Speaker 1: and I couldn't do anything. There was this pressure crushing
Speaker 1: me and I couldn't move and I had to fight
Speaker 1: my own body to be able to speak, like I
Speaker 1: had to ball up my fists and stop, and then
Speaker 1: I could yell I'm sorry. And he touched up part
Speaker 1: of his face and his eyes went wide and I
Speaker 1: reached an arm out from my side of the room
Speaker 1: and said no, so he don't touch it, don't look
Speaker 1: at it. He flexed his jaw and I saw his
Speaker 1: tongue poking its way through where his cheek had been.
Speaker 1: Oh my God, I couldn't look at him. He ran
Speaker 1: passed me to the bathroom and this sound he made,
Speaker 1: he was shouting and his voice was gurgling and I
Speaker 1: don't know. I said, I don't know when I threw
Speaker 1: up and I don't know. Vomit doesn't do this. Vomit
Speaker 1: doesn't melt skin. His eyes were wild. What was in
Speaker 1: that champagne? I don't know, I told him. I said
Speaker 1: it was the bottle his mother gave us. He came
Speaker 1: close he had to shut my eyes, the one my
Speaker 1: mother gave you. He started to pace. My mom gave
Speaker 1: you a bottle and you drink it. Oh my God,
Speaker 1: Oh my God. Bradley had always insisted that I shouldn't
Speaker 1: trust his mother. I don't believe a word from her
Speaker 1: treacherous mouth, he said, but she'd always presented herself as
Speaker 1: kind into me, nurturing even I didn't understand. He moved
Speaker 1: back to the bed and looked into the awful mess. there.
Speaker 1: A few gentle wisps of smoke rose from the slowly
Speaker 1: disintegrating sheets Bradley's side. Oh mother, not again. Then this
Speaker 1: Gurgo came from inside him and he fell to the floor.
Speaker 1: I looked down and he was coughing up blood. I
Speaker 1: could see his teeth working inside his mouth and it
Speaker 1: was all spilling out of all of the holes in
Speaker 1: his face. I don't know if he knew he was
Speaker 1: doing it, but he hugged my legs and wretched and
Speaker 1: I thought of his mother laughing and dancing and pressing
Speaker 1: a bottle of champagne into my hands with a sweet smile.
Speaker 1: Bradley heaved into my knees and I could hear he
Speaker 1: was trying to say, help me, help me. There was
Speaker 1: a painting Hotel Room, art that you're not really meant
Speaker 1: to look at. There was a lighthouse. It was kind
Speaker 1: of blurry, like the artist worked too fast with too
Speaker 1: much paint. But there was a little ship off in
Speaker 1: the distance, just a gray shape headed towards the rocky shore.
Speaker 1: I took a deep breath. Honey, honey, listen to me,
Speaker 1: you're going to be all right. I'm going to take
Speaker 1: care of you. And then I meant it. I mean
Speaker 1: I wanted to with my whole heart. I loved him.
Speaker 1: I knew what I needed to do and I saw
Speaker 1: him so hard that I was starting to hyperventilate. My
Speaker 1: shoulders and neck shook in the words were coming out
Speaker 1: and stutters and yelps. I reached down and I ran
Speaker 1: my fingers through his hair and he looked up and
Speaker 1: I touched his good cheek. I turned his half beautiful
Speaker 1: face up to mine. His eyes were worried wide and
Speaker 1: his teeth chattered and I could see his tongue thrashing,
Speaker 1: feeling around for a mouth. It just wasn't there anymore.
Speaker 1: I tried to see the man I loved, but all
Speaker 1: that I saw was awful Zombie eyes and teeth like
Speaker 1: spears and an unhinging jaw. I couldn't scream. It was
Speaker 1: just teeth and that terrible face. I told him that
Speaker 1: I loved him then. Nothing would change that. And then
Speaker 1: I stuck my fingers down by throat. Shuddered, I gagged,
Speaker 1: I had a fount of vile word out of me
Speaker 1: to his ruin face. It down his throat. I picked
Speaker 1: up the phone and dialed my mother in Law's room.
Speaker 1: She was on the same floor. It would only take
Speaker 1: a few minutes for her to arrive to see what
Speaker 1: she had done to her to my Bradley, as the
Speaker 1: phone at tempted to could I to down the last
Speaker 1: bit of champagne from the nearly empty bottle? Hopefully there
Speaker 1: was enough left for her. I went to the corner
Speaker 1: of the bed and sat down. He was hunched over
Speaker 1: on the floor, regurgling and convulsing, drowning really. He looked
Speaker 1: up to see, and it was both to see, going
Speaker 1: on directions, his jaw coming loose. He looked like up
Speaker 1: eached fish gasping for life, and then he was gone.
Speaker 1: My Guy had released him back into the deep, set
Speaker 1: him free. It saved him. So he could always be
Speaker 1: beautiful and good. I wish his face lived in me forever.
Speaker 1: When I try to think of my Bradley, I only
Speaker 1: see those final moments and in my memories melt away.
Speaker 1: Mike's a picture you're not meant to look at like
Speaker 1: I'm working too fast with too much paint. A tragic
Speaker 1: love story. Now there are many of those here at Hawthorne.
Speaker 1: Broken hearts tend towards this place. It must be something
Speaker 1: in the air. Tomorrow, a change of pace perhaps. Beat
Speaker 1: me outside the east wing in the morning. I have
Speaker 1: something titillating to show you. For now, watch your step
Speaker 1: and when you dream tonight, dream of doorways. Yes, do you,
Speaker 1: until the morning. Thirteen days of Halloween was created by
Speaker 1: Matt Frederick and Alex Williams and executive produced by Aaron Manky,
Speaker 1: starring Keegan Michael Key as the caretaker. Today's story was
Speaker 1: written by Mike John's, performed by Jessica Losa and directed
Speaker 1: by Matt Frederick, with editing and sound designed by Ben
Speaker 1: Kybrick additional writing and script supervision from Nicholas Takowski. Only
Speaker 1: six days remain. Tomorrow another story. It was just a
Speaker 1: dream at first. She stood there looking beautiful sweet, batting
Speaker 1: those lashes at me like reaching out. Don't let me go,
Speaker 1: I can be here with you. Don't let me go,
Speaker 1: hold on. I didn't want to let her go. I
Speaker 1: also couldn't be keeping a whole damn body around the apartment.
Speaker 1: You know I'm not a serial killer. Thirteen days of
Speaker 1: Halloween is a production of I heart radio, Blumhouse television
Speaker 1: and Grimm and mild from Aaron Mankey. For more podcasts
Speaker 1: from my heart radio, visit the I heart radio APP,
Speaker 1: apple podcasts or wherever you listen to your favorite shows.
Speaker 1: And learn more about thirteen days of Halloween at Grimm
Speaker 1: and mild dot com.