WEBVTT - The Land of Hungry Ghosts

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<v Speaker 1>Twelve Ghosts is a production of I Heeart three D

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<v Speaker 1>audio and grimm and mild from Aaron Manky Headphones. Recommended

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<v Speaker 1>Listener discretion advised. M Hello, I don't understand. I don't understand. Hello.

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<v Speaker 1>Oh oh light light, Oh hello, light Hello. M hm

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<v Speaker 1>huh h Hello. I was expecting you later. What I

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<v Speaker 1>just what? I was expecting you hours from now? Oh,

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<v Speaker 1>no matter, you must be freezing. Well, don't just stand

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<v Speaker 1>there with your mouth wide open. You'll let the heat

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<v Speaker 1>out of my mouth. Come in the start of the

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<v Speaker 1>very longest night of the year, the dead center of midwinter.

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<v Speaker 1>We cannot be any further from summer sunlight. Here desolate.

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<v Speaker 1>It is from this vantage point the dream of June

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<v Speaker 1>feels almost cruel, doesn't it. Even the wolves stay in

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<v Speaker 1>on this night, respecting the heavy dark. And you know

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<v Speaker 1>how they love a winter forest drink. Where am I

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<v Speaker 1>in a place where drink is being offered? I've got

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<v Speaker 1>mulled wine. It's very good for knocking off the chill. Yes, good,

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<v Speaker 1>we'll hang your coat by the door. You won't be

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<v Speaker 1>needing it. Where am I I was? I've been walking

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<v Speaker 1>in the woods for what seems like forever. It's a

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<v Speaker 1>very deep wood, and with no sun to mark the time.

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<v Speaker 1>It's endless, isn't it. Sit? You have an answered my question.

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<v Speaker 1>You're standing in front of a steaming cup of mulled

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<v Speaker 1>wine at a large wooden table in an inn, in

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<v Speaker 1>the deepest bit of a dark wood, in the middle

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<v Speaker 1>of the longest night of the year. Sit please, And

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<v Speaker 1>you are the owner of this establishment. Yes, but hold on?

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<v Speaker 1>Mm hmm. How unusual? What it's strange? How time passes.

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<v Speaker 1>I thought you came alone. I did well. It seems

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<v Speaker 1>as though you were mistaken. Come in. You're right on time.

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<v Speaker 1>M h I saw you a light. Yes, that is

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<v Speaker 1>why I keep it on, so that weary travelers have

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<v Speaker 1>something to move toward in the dark. Leave your coat

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<v Speaker 1>at the door and come sit. I've got a drink

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<v Speaker 1>to warm you. Are you all right? Yes? Good, you've

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<v Speaker 1>both traveled so far. Tonight there will be rest for

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<v Speaker 1>you now rest, yes, But before I send you off

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<v Speaker 1>to bed, tell me where have you come from? Where?

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<v Speaker 1>My name is lost to me now, as well as

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<v Speaker 1>my life before that night and all that has occurred

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<v Speaker 1>since until I found myself. No, no, not lost nor

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<v Speaker 1>forgotten mind you, but devoured by what you may ask,

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<v Speaker 1>by the dead thing inside me that much I am

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<v Speaker 1>allowed to recall. The dead thing, the creature, the ghost

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<v Speaker 1>that lives that resides within my skull. Whatever it is,

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<v Speaker 1>it's ravenous, and the only thing it can eat is memory.

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<v Speaker 1>I think it was human once. Who knows, maybe it

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<v Speaker 1>was even like me, a simple, weary traveler who paused

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<v Speaker 1>to converse with the wrong stranger on the wrong night.

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<v Speaker 1>Now we are inseparable, and have been since since a moment. Please,

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<v Speaker 1>what remains of my recollections are not easily gathered and

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<v Speaker 1>demand a courage available only to me through the grace

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<v Speaker 1>of the bottle. I don't know why it's allowed me

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<v Speaker 1>to recall our meeting. I have the theory, though, I

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<v Speaker 1>think perhaps that's where it's made its home, there in

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<v Speaker 1>the last memory my mind can hold. From there it

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<v Speaker 1>enters my other memories to wait, where was I the meeting? Yes? Yes,

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<v Speaker 1>how the dead thing that eats memories and I became one.

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<v Speaker 1>I was a nocturnal traveler, alone in the land, as

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<v Speaker 1>far from where I came for as wherever this place.

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<v Speaker 1>Maybe now young, or at least a much younger man

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<v Speaker 1>than the one in my reflection and adrift in a

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<v Speaker 1>strange city shuddered in the last hours before Christmas morning.

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<v Speaker 1>I can still see a goblin moon peering over the

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<v Speaker 1>darkened rooftops to illuminate the last patches of snow clinging

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<v Speaker 1>to the corners of the street. I wandered that city,

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<v Speaker 1>lost in search of a drink that I didn't need,

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<v Speaker 1>and found only closed doors until I found him. Towards

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<v Speaker 1>the last hour of night. I approached him vagrant, an

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<v Speaker 1>old man, half lurched from the shadows of an alley way.

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<v Speaker 1>From his hand dangled a bottle of wine that sparked

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<v Speaker 1>with the promise of a sweet numb The old man

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<v Speaker 1>mumbled to himself in a tongue that I couldn't really

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<v Speaker 1>understand until I realized what I was hearing was a

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<v Speaker 1>mick sture of languages, muttered all at once and to

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<v Speaker 1>no one at all. I was almost upon him, and

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<v Speaker 1>still he hadn't noticed my approach. The moonlight revealed a

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<v Speaker 1>gaunt face twisted in concentration, as if conducting a great

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<v Speaker 1>series of calculations whose some eluded his best efforts. None

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<v Speaker 1>of them mattered. All that did was the bottle that

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<v Speaker 1>dangled from his hand gently at a respectable distance, I

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<v Speaker 1>intruded on his mumblings and informed him that for the

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<v Speaker 1>remaining coins in my pocket, I would gladly purchase the

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<v Speaker 1>last drops of wine from his bottle. Startled, the old

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<v Speaker 1>man looked up and down the street furtively, as if

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<v Speaker 1>we weren't the only two souls there in that hour

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<v Speaker 1>before dawn. His eyes, previously lost in some private toil,

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<v Speaker 1>now bulged with amused confusion. In my presence, I reached

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<v Speaker 1>into my pocket, jangled a few coins in my palm,

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<v Speaker 1>and gazed as keenly at his bottle as he at

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<v Speaker 1>my face. The old man looked at the bottle as

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<v Speaker 1>if only just then realizing what it was that I wanted,

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<v Speaker 1>then with a grin of broken tombstones, and inquired how

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<v Speaker 1>it was. I could see him. Thrown off by the question,

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<v Speaker 1>I found myself bereft of an answer. The old man

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<v Speaker 1>looked down at my feet and then back up at

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<v Speaker 1>my eyes, shudered, dragging at the heels of your feet,

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<v Speaker 1>does me you don't belong here? One? Where are you from?

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<v Speaker 1>How did you get here? He took a swig off

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<v Speaker 1>the bottle and then passed it to me, returning the

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<v Speaker 1>coins to my pocket. I accepted the bottle. The wine

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<v Speaker 1>tasted of iron and dust, but it was strong enough

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<v Speaker 1>to loosen the tongue. After another pull on the bottle,

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<v Speaker 1>I confessed I wasn't sure where here was anymore. I

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<v Speaker 1>explained that I came across the sea in search of

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<v Speaker 1>fortune or to escape my fate, one or the other,

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<v Speaker 1>or maybe both. I've further explained how, after many long months,

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<v Speaker 1>I finally received a letter from my one true love,

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<v Speaker 1>a Christmas gift from home that arrived a day early,

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<v Speaker 1>or so I thought. I learned that what my love

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<v Speaker 1>and I had shared was no more than a bonfire

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<v Speaker 1>in a blizzard. Bright, fierce and defiant, but ultimately doomed

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<v Speaker 1>to be extinguished before the night is through. The old

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<v Speaker 1>Man's bottle was almost empty, and I realized I had

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<v Speaker 1>been crying. He seemed unconcerned to my state and simply

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<v Speaker 1>asked if I wanted my love back. No, I replied

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<v Speaker 1>with a sudden rage, not just at my love's betrayal,

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<v Speaker 1>but the tears I shed for her. Before a stranger,

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<v Speaker 1>I explained to the universe as well as the old man,

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<v Speaker 1>that all I wanted was to forget my love had

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<v Speaker 1>ever existed. All of it, the good and the bad.

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<v Speaker 1>For without my love in my life, the good we

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<v Speaker 1>shared was a pain unbearable to remember, while the bad

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<v Speaker 1>we suffered and survived was simply a lesson loss to

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<v Speaker 1>me now forever, I would forget it all if I could.

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<v Speaker 1>And there was a long silence, just long enough for

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<v Speaker 1>me to recant my words, before the old man cast

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<v Speaker 1>a sad crack of his cemetery grin and reached out

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<v Speaker 1>his hand. He said, take my hand, and all that

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<v Speaker 1>haunts you shall be no more. Every wound, every loss,

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<v Speaker 1>all of the injuries that even the bottle count reach,

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<v Speaker 1>they will become my and no longer burden your time

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<v Speaker 1>on this earth. Dried my eyes and laughed at the

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<v Speaker 1>absurdity of it all. But the longer the old Man's

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<v Speaker 1>hand hung there, the more eager I became to believe

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<v Speaker 1>his offer. Why not, after all, what harm can there

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<v Speaker 1>be in the casting of a simple wish? All of it,

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<v Speaker 1>I demanded, realizing now how desperate I was for his

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<v Speaker 1>words to be true, all of it. With that, I

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<v Speaker 1>emptied the bottle in a single pool and took his hand.

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<v Speaker 1>The grip was stronger than an expected. I felt his

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<v Speaker 1>nails dated deep into the palm of my hand, and

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<v Speaker 1>with a cry of pain, looked down to discover that

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<v Speaker 1>blood had been drawn. Then the pain receded under a

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<v Speaker 1>terrible numb. A strange chill ran up my hand, and

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<v Speaker 1>I watched with mute horror as its flesh turned lou

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<v Speaker 1>within his grasp. I pried my attention from the chill

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<v Speaker 1>flowing into my body to plead with the old man

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<v Speaker 1>to rescind my wish. But the old man was gone,

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<v Speaker 1>and in his place stood a corpse. His corpse to

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<v Speaker 1>be more accurate, hollow eyes and shriveled, rotted flesh pulled

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<v Speaker 1>taut across the outline of a skull. I tried to scream,

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<v Speaker 1>I tried to kick free, and tried to strike at

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<v Speaker 1>the corpse with my other hand, but found myself frozen

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<v Speaker 1>in raw terror. I watched helplessly as his rutted skin

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<v Speaker 1>began to bubble, as lumps formed and moved beneath the

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<v Speaker 1>surface of his face. As the jaw of the corpse

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<v Speaker 1>unhinged itself like some great snake from the Amazon, there

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<v Speaker 1>was a gurgling as it struggled to speak, but it

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<v Speaker 1>wasn't words that were freeing itself from its jaw. The

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<v Speaker 1>corpse began to vomit up, and a swarm of insects,

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<v Speaker 1>not any kind I had ever seen, for they resembled beetles,

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<v Speaker 1>only with tiny human faces painted on the front of

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<v Speaker 1>their onyx carapaces and mandibles that clicked an alien communication

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<v Speaker 1>with each other. They cascaded into thousands from the jaws

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<v Speaker 1>of the old man's corpse, flowing down the neck, that shoulder,

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<v Speaker 1>the arm that connected us now in this unholy union.

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<v Speaker 1>The insects swarmed over my hand, scurried beneath the sleeve

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<v Speaker 1>of my coat, and even through the numb of the skin,

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<v Speaker 1>I felt them enveloped my body in their thousands. Then

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<v Speaker 1>they began to burrow deep beneath the flesh, even through

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<v Speaker 1>the numb of the corpse'script. The pain was not something

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<v Speaker 1>you forget. Apparently. The last thing I saw was the

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<v Speaker 1>old man's corpse disintegrate, flaking off into chunks of dust

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<v Speaker 1>that drifted into the dying moonlight as the last of

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<v Speaker 1>the human faced bugs drained from its screen. Then, mercifully

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<v Speaker 1>I blacked out. I woke up in the alleyway, still alive.

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<v Speaker 1>A Christmas miracle. It had all been a terrible dream

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<v Speaker 1>brought on by the bottle. I staggered into the street.

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<v Speaker 1>I was groggy, still unshore of my location, hungover as

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<v Speaker 1>I was drunk, and then immediately recalled why I had

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<v Speaker 1>been drinking so furiously the night before. The smile of

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<v Speaker 1>my love's face flashed across my mind's eye. Instantly I

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<v Speaker 1>found myself in a familiar bed. Maybe there's maybe mine.

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<v Speaker 1>A lone candle illuminated the longing and exhilaration of my

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<v Speaker 1>love's gaze upon my body. Rain pattered against the window

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<v Speaker 1>and crackled across the roof. Enraptured, I was on the

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<v Speaker 1>verge of whispering my love's name when everything rose. The

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<v Speaker 1>light of the candle no longer flickered, the rains cadence

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<v Speaker 1>had stilled itself, and my love was still as a painting,

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<v Speaker 1>with neither a breath nor a blink revealed. Then, slowly

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<v Speaker 1>a shadow formed and rose from behind my love, displayed

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<v Speaker 1>naked across the bed. The shadow began to shimmer and

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<v Speaker 1>melt away into the leering visage of the old man's corpse,

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<v Speaker 1>the dead thing inside me. It ran a talented finger

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<v Speaker 1>through my love's hair and studied me with empty sockets

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<v Speaker 1>and a rich scrin of broken tombstones. It wanted me

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<v Speaker 1>to know that it could see me. It wanted me

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<v Speaker 1>to know that it took great satisfaction in my helplessness.

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<v Speaker 1>It pressed its face against that of my loves. It

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<v Speaker 1>whispered into their ear, and it sniffed along the curve

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<v Speaker 1>of their neck with the rotted remains of its nose,

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<v Speaker 1>before leaning back, with odding satisfaction, fixed its eyeless gaze

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<v Speaker 1>upon me, and threw back its head as if to

0:17:08.080 --> 0:17:12.439
<v Speaker 1>mock me in sinister delight. Only it wasn't laughter that

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<v Speaker 1>erupted from the old man's corpse. Phantom swarm of human

0:17:17.520 --> 0:17:20.119
<v Speaker 1>faced beetles burst through the jaws of the old man's

0:17:20.119 --> 0:17:24.120
<v Speaker 1>corpse as it elongated unnaturally to provide them gateway into

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<v Speaker 1>my memory. Crawling in their allegiance, they cascaded down the

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<v Speaker 1>jaws of the old man's corpse and scattered themselves across

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<v Speaker 1>my love. They spread across their skin, forming a chittering

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<v Speaker 1>shadow over my lover, as their mandibles devoured every detail

0:17:39.840 --> 0:17:43.200
<v Speaker 1>of what I could remember from my love's body. And

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<v Speaker 1>still they swarmed from the muted scream of the old

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<v Speaker 1>man's corps, spreading themselves relentlessly across the bed, the floor,

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<v Speaker 1>the walls of my memory, until their swarming masses had

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<v Speaker 1>obliterated all I could recall of that night into nothingness.

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<v Speaker 1>It was then that I recognized the faces painted onto

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<v Speaker 1>the beatles. It was that of my love, where the

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<v Speaker 1>eyes locked and agony be pleading with me to do something, anything,

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<v Speaker 1>But I was frozen, unable to escape out of memory

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<v Speaker 1>into consciousness, nor shift to a different recollection. As the

0:18:17.880 --> 0:18:20.840
<v Speaker 1>body of my love was devoured with their smiling eyes

0:18:20.960 --> 0:18:25.400
<v Speaker 1>the last to go. I could feel everything we shared

0:18:25.680 --> 0:18:30.920
<v Speaker 1>vanishing from the mind, the little jokes between us, a

0:18:31.000 --> 0:18:36.040
<v Speaker 1>place where we met, the moments we shared, and then

0:18:36.080 --> 0:18:43.439
<v Speaker 1>even their name. We're gone forever still the old man's

0:18:43.520 --> 0:18:49.399
<v Speaker 1>corpse feasted with eyeless gaze still locked on mine. It

0:18:49.480 --> 0:18:52.280
<v Speaker 1>wanted me to remember this moment for as long as

0:18:52.320 --> 0:18:56.240
<v Speaker 1>I lived. It wanted me to know that this was

0:18:56.359 --> 0:19:03.119
<v Speaker 1>going to happen to everything, every person, every moment I

0:19:03.160 --> 0:19:06.879
<v Speaker 1>had experienced. It wanted me to know the horror, and

0:19:06.960 --> 0:19:09.920
<v Speaker 1>it wanted me to know the perverse joy it would

0:19:09.960 --> 0:19:14.719
<v Speaker 1>take in devouring my memories. It wanted me to know

0:19:14.800 --> 0:19:17.200
<v Speaker 1>that every time I woke up, a scene like this

0:19:17.240 --> 0:19:26.160
<v Speaker 1>would play again before being wiped away forever. Eventually there

0:19:26.240 --> 0:19:28.360
<v Speaker 1>was nothing left of the memory save the dead thing

0:19:28.400 --> 0:19:31.600
<v Speaker 1>inside me, the undulating tide of insects, and the candle light,

0:19:32.560 --> 0:19:41.360
<v Speaker 1>until that was enveloped too, And then my sole remembrance

0:19:41.400 --> 0:19:46.240
<v Speaker 1>comes to an end. After that, my story is no

0:19:46.359 --> 0:19:50.680
<v Speaker 1>longer mine to tell. Written over the years, possibly the decades,

0:19:50.720 --> 0:19:54.120
<v Speaker 1>and higher glyphs of scars and wounds, my body remembers

0:19:54.119 --> 0:19:57.399
<v Speaker 1>more than I can. But chiefly what it remembers is

0:19:57.440 --> 0:20:03.560
<v Speaker 1>that I need a drink to function. Mind you, That

0:20:03.680 --> 0:20:07.520
<v Speaker 1>is not to say that there haven't been scraps of recurrence.

0:20:07.640 --> 0:20:12.240
<v Speaker 1>I've been allowed to nibble on crumbs of memory that

0:20:12.359 --> 0:20:15.000
<v Speaker 1>have fallen off the chin of the old man's corpse.

0:20:16.359 --> 0:20:20.120
<v Speaker 1>A few moments from a prison here, a few seconds

0:20:20.280 --> 0:20:24.159
<v Speaker 1>spent in a sanitarium. There, the face of a priest

0:20:24.200 --> 0:20:27.040
<v Speaker 1>as they called upon our Savior to rescue my wretched

0:20:27.080 --> 0:20:30.640
<v Speaker 1>soul from the phantom. Within a flash of lightning over

0:20:30.680 --> 0:20:35.480
<v Speaker 1>a burning ship, a dead man in my feet, and

0:20:35.720 --> 0:20:38.480
<v Speaker 1>lurch in my stomach at the bloody knife in my hand,

0:20:40.920 --> 0:20:43.760
<v Speaker 1>brief sparks of a desperate life that I when I

0:20:43.800 --> 0:20:47.440
<v Speaker 1>try to follow lead me back to the night when

0:20:47.440 --> 0:20:49.240
<v Speaker 1>I met the dead thing inside me there in the

0:20:49.359 --> 0:20:55.919
<v Speaker 1>land of hungry ghosts. So now I just traveled around

0:20:56.000 --> 0:21:01.240
<v Speaker 1>in search of new experiences, new cities, new tales to

0:21:01.320 --> 0:21:05.679
<v Speaker 1>feed the dead thing inside me, all the while biding

0:21:05.720 --> 0:21:08.240
<v Speaker 1>my time for the right story to come along that

0:21:08.320 --> 0:21:13.000
<v Speaker 1>will satiate its eternal hunger. A story or a memory,

0:21:14.920 --> 0:21:18.600
<v Speaker 1>as if the two weren't the same, but a tale

0:21:18.760 --> 0:21:22.679
<v Speaker 1>so terrible that its teller would do almost anything to

0:21:22.720 --> 0:21:30.880
<v Speaker 1>forget it ever existed. Who knows. Perhaps in that moment

0:21:31.920 --> 0:21:34.199
<v Speaker 1>they'll even reach their hand out to take mine, and

0:21:34.240 --> 0:21:37.200
<v Speaker 1>the dead thing inside me will at last have found

0:21:37.200 --> 0:21:51.560
<v Speaker 1>a new home. But then I forget myself. My God,

0:21:53.320 --> 0:22:02.800
<v Speaker 1>are you tired? Marcus? Marcus? Yeah? Us Marcus, that was

0:22:02.880 --> 0:22:11.680
<v Speaker 1>my name once it is again. Do you wish to rest? Yes?

0:22:13.840 --> 0:22:18.080
<v Speaker 1>Take this key, Marcus. Up the stairs you will see

0:22:18.080 --> 0:22:22.400
<v Speaker 1>a series of doors. Yours is the very first on

0:22:22.440 --> 0:22:28.199
<v Speaker 1>the left. Inside is a bed. There you will find,

0:22:29.119 --> 0:22:32.600
<v Speaker 1>for the first time in a very long time. I

0:22:32.600 --> 0:22:39.600
<v Speaker 1>imagine a long dreamless slumber. Your hungry ghost will trouble

0:22:39.680 --> 0:22:55.400
<v Speaker 1>you no more. That sounds nice. Please excuse me, you

0:22:55.480 --> 0:23:06.240
<v Speaker 1>are excused to bed with you? Hm. And Flights of Angels,

0:23:07.040 --> 0:23:15.760
<v Speaker 1>et cetera. Who are You? I'm the Innkeeper, now annabel

0:23:16.840 --> 0:23:38.199
<v Speaker 1>Who are You? Twelve Ghosts starring Malcolm McDowell as the

0:23:38.280 --> 0:23:43.080
<v Speaker 1>Innkeeper and Gina Rikiki as Annabelle. Episode one, The Land

0:23:43.119 --> 0:23:47.040
<v Speaker 1>of Hungry Ghosts written by Rob Mosca with additional writing

0:23:47.080 --> 0:23:51.120
<v Speaker 1>by Nicholas Takowski, editing by Chris Childs and Stephen Perez,

0:23:51.440 --> 0:23:56.879
<v Speaker 1>featuring Robin Bloodworth as Marcus. Directed by Nicholas Takowski. Original

0:23:56.920 --> 0:24:01.960
<v Speaker 1>score and sound design by Chris Child's. Executive producers Aaron Mankey,

0:24:02.160 --> 0:24:08.000
<v Speaker 1>Matt Frederick, Alexander Williams and Nicholas Takowski. Supervising producer Josh Same.

0:24:08.520 --> 0:24:13.359
<v Speaker 1>Producers Chris Child's and Stephen Perez. Casting by Sunday Bowling

0:24:13.520 --> 0:24:16.600
<v Speaker 1>c s A and Meg Mormon c s A. Production

0:24:16.640 --> 0:24:21.200
<v Speaker 1>coordinator Wayna Calderon. Recorded at Lantern Audio in Atlanta, Georgia,

0:24:21.560 --> 0:24:26.800
<v Speaker 1>engineered by Chris Gardner, Aeros Sound and Recording in Ojai, California,

0:24:27.080 --> 0:24:31.960
<v Speaker 1>engineered by Ken Arrows. Twelve Ghosts was created by Nicholas Takowski.

0:24:32.359 --> 0:24:34.800
<v Speaker 1>Then is a production of I Heeart three D Audio

0:24:34.960 --> 0:24:37.879
<v Speaker 1>and Grim and Mild from Aaron Mankey. Learn more about

0:24:37.880 --> 0:24:40.600
<v Speaker 1>the show at grim and Mild dot com, and find

0:24:40.600 --> 0:24:42.879
<v Speaker 1>more podcasts from my heart Radio by visiting the I

0:24:43.000 --> 0:24:46.280
<v Speaker 1>heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to

0:24:46.320 --> 0:25:05.959
<v Speaker 1>your favorite shows.