WEBVTT - Bonus Episode | One Cold Night

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<v Speaker 1>Hey, everyone. Paul here. Today we're sharing a short Halloween treat.

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<v Speaker 1>As listeners know, teenage Robin Murphy wanted to be a

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<v Speaker 1>writer and a journalist when she grew up. She gave

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<v Speaker 1>some of her short stories and essays to her friend

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<v Speaker 1>James Blaisdell, and a few of them were included in

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<v Speaker 1>the police files. This one was written the same year

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<v Speaker 1>she vanished, and frankly, it jumped out at us. Although

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<v Speaker 1>Robin never finish the story, we thought we'd share the

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<v Speaker 1>fragment we found with you. An excerpt from One Cold

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<v Speaker 1>Night by Robin Murphy, read by Kathleen Horne.

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<v Speaker 2>The night air was cold and still, and it seemed

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<v Speaker 2>that everything had frozen, that everyone had drifted off into emotionless,

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<v Speaker 2>timeless sleep, recuperating from all the trick-or-treating and the partying,

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<v Speaker 2>all the laughter and loud noise. It was almost 2.30

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<v Speaker 2>in the morning. Nothing, no one was moving aside from

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<v Speaker 2>a stray cat or a fallen leaf blown by the

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<v Speaker 2>bitter wind. Everything was gone, it seemed. The weary streets

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<v Speaker 2>were absolutely deserted. Hurried footsteps broke through the silence. As

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<v Speaker 2>disturbing as a bolt of lightning striking a jaded tree,

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<v Speaker 2>Kimber cursed herself for staying so long at her friend's party.

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<v Speaker 2>But then her car might have still broken down, and

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<v Speaker 2>she still might have been stuck. but maybe she wouldn't

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<v Speaker 2>have been the only person on a dark road in

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<v Speaker 2>the middle of nowhere. She had only another block or

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<v Speaker 2>so until she reached her apartment, but her shoes were

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<v Speaker 2>so loud she wished she could remove them. The shattered

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<v Speaker 2>glass and broken eggs that littered the streets prevented her,

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<v Speaker 2>so she tried to walk slower, softer, but then the

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<v Speaker 2>cold numbed her legs and her anxiety grew, and so

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<v Speaker 2>she hurried on. She was scared, though she had trouble

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<v Speaker 2>admitting it to herself without using the excuse of paranoia.

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<v Speaker 2>She was not paranoid. It was merely the lateness of

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<v Speaker 2>the hour or the eerie quietness of the post-midnight that

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<v Speaker 2>brought out the fear instinct within her. That was what

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<v Speaker 2>made her quicken her step, chilling her insides as she

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<v Speaker 2>took in the frozen air. Puffs of icy fog formed

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<v Speaker 2>at her mouth and made color rise in her cheeks

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<v Speaker 2>and nose. God, Kimber hated this neighborhood. She hated it

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<v Speaker 2>while growing up, and she hated it now. It was

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<v Speaker 2>only a matter of time before her savings got large

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<v Speaker 2>enough to allow her to move. It had only been

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<v Speaker 2>a matter of time for years, true, but soon, very soon,

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<v Speaker 2>she noted as she looked around, it would be the

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<v Speaker 2>right time to finally leave. Anything could happen in these streets,

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<v Speaker 2>and lots had. Anybody could appear out of nowhere, pull

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<v Speaker 2>her with them back into that nowhere just as quickly...

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<v Speaker 2>And there would be no one to help her. No

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<v Speaker 2>one to hear her scream. She walked faster. And then

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<v Speaker 2>she stopped. She had to. The icy edge of a

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<v Speaker 2>blade that glimmered in the frozen moonlight held her at bay.

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<v Speaker 2>Her arm was twisted back at a painful angle. She

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<v Speaker 2>tried not to breathe to swallow. The blade was so cold,

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<v Speaker 2>so close. The grip on her arm was firm and

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<v Speaker 2>warm breath hissed in her ear. Good girlie. You've done

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<v Speaker 2>this before, haven't you? He took the knife away only

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<v Speaker 2>slightly and only long enough to drag her away from

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<v Speaker 2>the street. I am going to die, she thought. I'm

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<v Speaker 2>going to get even colder. I'm going to die. But

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<v Speaker 2>she could still get away, she argued silently. As long

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<v Speaker 2>as he put down that knife. She prayed for him

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<v Speaker 2>to do so. He pulled her into the alleyway between

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<v Speaker 2>two apartments. It stunk of garbage. He paused and held

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<v Speaker 2>the knife up, looking at the way the moonlight made

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<v Speaker 2>it glimmer as he twisted his wrist back and forth,

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<v Speaker 2>making her watch. If you scream... He left the sentence

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<v Speaker 2>unfinished to let her imagination run wild. He looked absolutely mad.

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<v Speaker 2>His breath stank of alcohol and his hand quivered in anticipation,

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<v Speaker 2>hoping that she would move. His eyes wandered back and

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<v Speaker 2>forth from Kimber to the blade, waiting, thinking of what

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<v Speaker 2>he could do with what he held in one hand

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<v Speaker 2>to what he held in the other. Slowly, slightly, the

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<v Speaker 2>grip in her wrist was loosened. but she didn't dare

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<v Speaker 2>move yet. Go on, girly, run, his nauseating breath hissed,

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<v Speaker 2>and you'll be dead before you take one little step.

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<v Speaker 2>What do you think? No one would ever, ever know.

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<v Speaker 2>He looked away, considering his eyes were very focused, very clear.

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<v Speaker 2>She would remember them for the rest of her life.

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<v Speaker 2>A little blood, he murmured, pressing the blade closer, watching

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<v Speaker 2>as a few droplets of crimson escaped and ran down

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<v Speaker 2>her neck. That's what vampires like, you know? You ever

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<v Speaker 2>see a real vampire? What do you want? Kim Bird

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<v Speaker 2>stared at his hand, at the knife. The real question is,

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<v Speaker 2>what do you want, baby? He used the blunt edge

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<v Speaker 2>of the blade to level her chin and licked his lips.

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<v Speaker 2>Kimber was freezing. She felt death approaching, waiting patiently beyond

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<v Speaker 2>the alleyway to come and claim what would soon be his.

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<v Speaker 2>She wondered if when her flesh was severed, the blood

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<v Speaker 2>would freeze and people would be confused as to the

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<v Speaker 2>cause of her death. Until, of course, she defrosted. And

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<v Speaker 2>then it would start to get real messy. No, she thought,

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<v Speaker 2>stop it. Stop thinking like this. but suddenly, like a

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<v Speaker 2>flash in the darkness, she found a light of hope,

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<v Speaker 2>a way out. She lifted her hand up to his face,

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<v Speaker 2>and the knife slowly, cautiously drew away from her neck,

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<v Speaker 2>anticipating excitedly her next move in this newfound game. You

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<v Speaker 2>want to know what I want, she said soothingly, her

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<v Speaker 2>hand trailed down his unshaven face. She leaned over as

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<v Speaker 2>if to whisper the answer to him. but instead lifted

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<v Speaker 2>her free hand and grabbed the knife, pushing it away

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<v Speaker 2>from her. He tried to shake her hand off of his.

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<v Speaker 2>If he had been thinking straight, he would have knocked

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<v Speaker 2>her down. He would have struck her. But it was late.

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<v Speaker 2>They were both tired and cold. Both their hands held

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<v Speaker 2>the knife, and something had to happen. Someone had to lose.