Speaker 1: Thirteen Days of Halloween is a production of iHeartRadio Blumhouse
Speaker 1: Television and Grim and Mild from Aaron Mankey Headphones Recommended
Speaker 1: listener discretion advised. Greetings friend, my deepest apologies for startling you.
Speaker 1: I wanted to get the measure of you before you
Speaker 1: knew I was looking. You can tell a lot about
Speaker 1: a body when that body doesn't know it's being studied. Yes, yes,
Speaker 1: of course, as you can at any rate. Come. I
Speaker 1: hope that your journey wasn't too arduous. The weather here
Speaker 1: can be rather unforgiving this time of year, though, truth
Speaker 1: be told, I was never worried about you finding your way.
Speaker 1: As they say here, all roads lead to the manner.
Speaker 1: No matter where you roam, you will find this to
Speaker 1: be true. This, my friend, is Hawthorn manner. I am
Speaker 1: a scaretaker, the caretaker if you wish impressive, is it not? Ah?
Speaker 1: I know that. Look well, my friend, you cannot fully
Speaker 1: understand what it is that you are beholding. It's quite natural.
Speaker 1: Hawthorn manner is something of an architectural anomaly, though austere,
Speaker 1: even savagely so. At first glance, you cannot help but
Speaker 1: notice the quiet. It's whimsy that seems to permeate the
Speaker 1: structure by the coupola there at the apex of the
Speaker 1: main wind, the dome thing on the roof with all
Speaker 1: the windows. Who you see it. It was said to
Speaker 1: have been constructed specifically for the daughter of the architect,
Speaker 1: at first as a play room and then later as
Speaker 1: her own infirmary. Some have reported seeing a shade past
Speaker 1: the windows late at night, back and forth. Patient solitude
Speaker 1: at any rate. Because of the strange blend of architectural
Speaker 1: styles that this massive house possesses, it has the quality
Speaker 1: of feeling both timeless and a standing outside of time.
Speaker 1: Many say that the architect was a madman, but there
Speaker 1: was method to it, all of it. Shall we abandoned?
Speaker 1: Hope yee who enter here? Just kidding? Welcome home, my friend.
Speaker 1: This place was built to last beyond its architect and
Speaker 1: so it has. It may seem disorienting in first, glass
Speaker 1: filled with strange twists and turns, Ceilings too high here,
Speaker 1: too low there. Some rooms canadists, some claustrophobic, this is
Speaker 1: my design. Some prefer grand halls, others quiet nooks. The
Speaker 1: architect manifested this place as a refuge for all This
Speaker 1: has been way station for countless Wario souls, a home
Speaker 1: for those without destination. In time you two fight it familiar.
Speaker 1: You will notice that this elevator is not part of
Speaker 1: the original structure, but yet still oh so vintage. Now,
Speaker 1: before we continue, and if I may be so bold,
Speaker 1: I'd like for you to meet one of our other guests.
Speaker 1: Any objections, I shall take your enigmatic silence as an
Speaker 1: affirmative before your arrival. Soren was our resident neophite. He's
Speaker 1: proven reluctant to indulge in the hotel's more extravagant offerings.
Speaker 1: I don't know if it is inherent shyness or well,
Speaker 1: perhaps your attentive demeanor is just what he needs to
Speaker 1: come out of his shell. Oh yes, you two will
Speaker 1: become fast friends. I can feel it before we enter.
Speaker 1: I must warn you Soren is rather guarded trust issues.
Speaker 1: It's honestly no wonder after what he's being through, but
Speaker 1: I do imagine that he'll explain it all. I can't
Speaker 1: wait for you two to meet Sorred, My dear, I
Speaker 1: present you to our latest guest. Oh dear, all this
Speaker 1: chattering and I haven't caught your name. Oh you don't
Speaker 1: have one, no matter, my friend, meet sorn. I shall
Speaker 1: return after you two have become acquainted albionto he said.
Speaker 1: They harvest at night. He said he'd figured it out.
Speaker 1: We could go about our business in the day, could
Speaker 1: still walk in the sun, could keep on and besides,
Speaker 1: the authorities had at coverage to be on the safe side.
Speaker 1: He said he'd been preparing. I wasn't surprising. Dad was
Speaker 1: always kind of a prepper. He and Mom had this
Speaker 1: massive garden in the back, and I kept it for years.
Speaker 1: The shelves and the pantry were a rainbow of summer colors,
Speaker 1: caught and sealed in glass jars in case of a race, war,
Speaker 1: or pandemic or whatever else the TV warned them off.
Speaker 1: They had a freezer filled with meat chickens they raised,
Speaker 1: plucked half a cow they bought from some service online,
Speaker 1: and a generator to keep it all frozen solid should
Speaker 1: the power grid fail. I asked Mom one time how
Speaker 1: long they could hold out in case of the apocalypse,
Speaker 1: and without pause, said, I could feed twelve people for
Speaker 1: eight months before we had to start eating the freeze
Speaker 1: dried stuff. She'd done them that. I think she told
Speaker 1: me the freeze dried stuff would last another four months,
Speaker 1: so here, I said, what happens at the end of
Speaker 1: a year, She shrubbed, Well, let's hope it doesn't ever
Speaker 1: come to that. Dad had guns, lots of guns, all
Speaker 1: kinds and calibers. I mean, that's why I was there,
Speaker 1: after all, I didn't have one of my own, and
Speaker 1: my roommates had headed back to their own parents to
Speaker 1: deal with the disturbance on their own terms. I wanted
Speaker 1: to stay on at the apartment. The only thing worse
Speaker 1: and dealing with global emergencies alone would be dealing with him,
Speaker 1: with Dad knowingly glancing over at me every time a
Speaker 1: news story told me that I was wrong and he
Speaker 1: was right. They hated that I didn't want to come home,
Speaker 1: but quit bugging me about it. When I finally agreed
Speaker 1: to stop buying pick up a gun. He looked terrible.
Speaker 1: The front yard was overgrown, the grass was long, and
Speaker 1: the holly bushes were shaggy, and Dad matched unshaven, heron
Speaker 1: kempt stinged sweatpants, an old undershirt and say it was clear.
Speaker 1: He head and showered, but his eyes were still sharp.
Speaker 1: They darted around outside before he pulled me in. Inside
Speaker 1: was a wreck. We never let the house be a
Speaker 1: wreck before. But I looked around at the kitchen, the
Speaker 1: opened jars and cans that flies over, the dirty dishes
Speaker 1: in the sink, and litter and grit everywhere, and I
Speaker 1: just said Jesus, Jesus quietly, over and over, as Dad
Speaker 1: stood nearby, looking at me up and down. Where's Mom?
Speaker 1: I asked, and he said she's sleeping. All she seems
Speaker 1: to do these days asleep, And when I asked if
Speaker 1: her depression was back, he just sort of shrugged. I
Speaker 1: promised myself that before I left, I could make sure
Speaker 1: that she was still taking her medication. I didn't want
Speaker 1: her to get as bad as she'd gotten when I
Speaker 1: was in the eighth grade and couldn't get out of
Speaker 1: bed for weeks at a time. But I wanted to
Speaker 1: deal with the business in hand first, so I said,
Speaker 1: can we look at the guns? And he just looked
Speaker 1: back at me, confused, as if he'd never heard the
Speaker 1: word before. The guns, I said, and he snapped, two, oh, yes, yes,
Speaker 1: the guns. The guns, he said, almost wistfully, and then
Speaker 1: he said, I want to show you something first. Growing up,
Speaker 1: there's this grape backyard. You used to have kids from
Speaker 1: all over the neighborhood. We played touch football or these
Speaker 1: huge games of freeze tag barbecues in the summer. And
Speaker 1: after nine eleven when they started watching the network, which
Speaker 1: told them all of the damn time that people were
Speaker 1: coming to get them. They want to convert your kids,
Speaker 1: and they want to steal our money and wreck our culture.
Speaker 1: Whoever the hell the enemy of the week was. That's
Speaker 1: when they started planting the garden. The first summer, it
Speaker 1: was small only really, it took up a corner of
Speaker 1: the yard. But every year it grew larger and larger.
Speaker 1: Tomatoes and oak ground and squash, cucumbers and greens and
Speaker 1: green beans and onions and peppers, all of them diligently
Speaker 1: pulled from the earth and canned and jarred and jellied.
Speaker 1: By the time I graduated, there was nothing left of
Speaker 1: the lawn, just vegetables and space to store vegetables. It
Speaker 1: was their obsession be prepped when they came. Whoever they were,
Speaker 1: I mean, I guess in a sense they were right. Anyway,
Speaker 1: Dad wanted me to see a thing, so we walked
Speaker 1: through the messy house towards the back door. That's when
Speaker 1: he said they harvest at night. When I didn't say anything.
Speaker 1: He went on, we can go about our business during
Speaker 1: the day, but at night they harvest, so that's when
Speaker 1: you want to stay safe indoors. All your know at
Speaker 1: all friends think that they're immortal, think that they can
Speaker 1: go wherever they want, whenever they want. But I'm telling you,
Speaker 1: they harvest at night, so don't go out. Then I said, okay,
Speaker 1: we'd stopped by the back door, and he turned and
Speaker 1: looked me in the eye and got real close to
Speaker 1: my face and said good. His breath was rancid, and
Speaker 1: I told him so, but he just smiled and turned
Speaker 1: and opened the back door. The garden was destroyed. What
Speaker 1: hadn't been ripped up or rotted was going to seed.
Speaker 1: Jesus Dad, I said again, what the hell happened with
Speaker 1: you two? But he didn't answer, and just sort of
Speaker 1: plodded forward and his dirty sweats right through the patch
Speaker 1: where the grains used to be. Followed him. You didn't
Speaker 1: turn around, but he said, just loudly enough for me
Speaker 1: to hear. You can't trust anyone. They'll come knocking, and
Speaker 1: they'll make their voices sweet and warm, and they'll sound
Speaker 1: like the girl you liked when you were a kid.
Speaker 1: Or your dead grandmother, and you'll be tempted to open
Speaker 1: the door. But that's how they get you, begging and
Speaker 1: pleaded and saying the sweetest things you can imagine to
Speaker 1: get you out into the night. I hadn't really heard
Speaker 1: any of this. I certainly hadn't experienced it myself, and
Speaker 1: none of my friends had had a run in yet.
Speaker 1: So I asked where he'd heard it, and had it
Speaker 1: been on his program, because they weren't always on Trustworthy.
Speaker 1: But he didn't answer me. He just stopped and placed
Speaker 1: toward the back of the garden, where there was a
Speaker 1: massive pile of fresh dirt and next to it a
Speaker 1: massive hole in the ground with earthen steps leading down
Speaker 1: into the darkness. I was gobsmacked. That's the word I
Speaker 1: thought of at the time, and I think it's the
Speaker 1: best one to use even now. I said, Jesus again
Speaker 1: a habit by now, and then asked if he'd been
Speaker 1: building a bunker. He turned and smiled and nodded so
Speaker 1: proud of himself, and then like he just remembered, he said,
Speaker 1: that's where the guns are, and then he started down
Speaker 1: the earth and stares into the hole, and I followed
Speaker 1: him down It was damp down there, and even though
Speaker 1: the walls had been tamped so tightly that they looked
Speaker 1: as smooth as concrete, I could feel the moisture they
Speaker 1: seemed to breathe. It smelled like dirt and worms and decay,
Speaker 1: and it went so far back the sun didn't seem
Speaker 1: to reach. Dad just walked on in no flashlight, and
Speaker 1: when I paused to let my eyes adjust, he chuckled
Speaker 1: at me. It's fine, he said, They only harvest at night.
Speaker 1: They lure you in with their sweet song and with promises,
Speaker 1: and then they prick you and their venom freezes you,
Speaker 1: and then they harvest. But they only harvest at night.
Speaker 1: My eyes had started to adjust to the dark, and
Speaker 1: I could see his figure there, next to the smaller
Speaker 1: indentations in the wall, like little cubby holes filled with
Speaker 1: jar after jar after jar from Mom's pantry. How long
Speaker 1: did it take you to do this, I asked, and
Speaker 1: I could see a shrug in response, and beckoned me
Speaker 1: further in, And as I followed, I glanced at the
Speaker 1: dark shape swirling in the jars. The guns are right
Speaker 1: over there, he said, and he pointed to a freshly
Speaker 1: dug cubby in the very back and said, take your pick.
Speaker 1: So I walked past him and leaned in toward the cubby,
Speaker 1: which was just a couple of feet wide, but I
Speaker 1: couldn't see anything, and when I was turning to say so,
Speaker 1: I felt the prick on the back of my neck.
Speaker 1: So he yelped in surprise and turned. But before I
Speaker 1: could get my bearings, my legs collapsed behind me, numb,
Speaker 1: and Dad was standing over me, a silhouette, seeming huge
Speaker 1: in the dim light. All of a sudden, they sound
Speaker 1: like someone you trust, he said, leaning down, and his
Speaker 1: breath smelt of earths and worms and decayed too, and
Speaker 1: his eyes I could see them flash in the dark,
Speaker 1: like a cat's eyes as he lifted a finger with
Speaker 1: a long nail on it. When they came for your mother,
Speaker 1: they sounded like her sister. I couldn't feel my arms now,
Speaker 1: and the warmth and numbness was spreading up into my
Speaker 1: jaw and scalp, and I wanted to close my eyes,
Speaker 1: but I couldn't. Had just kept staring at his figure
Speaker 1: as it seemed to slowly shift in the dim light.
Speaker 1: When they came for your father, they sounded like you,
Speaker 1: and he turned out toward the dim light of the
Speaker 1: entrance far behind him. As I fought the arch to sleep,
Speaker 1: my gaze drifted, and for a moment I looked into
Speaker 1: my mother's eyes as they floated in a jar on
Speaker 1: a nearby shelf. He said, m h, you should relax.
Speaker 1: The evening is still a few hours away, and we
Speaker 1: only harvested in night. Oh look at all the fun
Speaker 1: we're having in here. I just knew you two would
Speaker 1: get along swimmingly. Oh no, come with me, sare in.
Speaker 1: We'll catch up with you later, dear heart. He is
Speaker 1: a truly sweet young man. I've been attempting to persuade
Speaker 1: him to see the good doctor about his cough, but
Speaker 1: he'll have none of it. Maybe you could be of
Speaker 1: service in that department. He really seemed to like you. Now.
Speaker 1: There are hundreds of rooms here of the Hawthorne, but
Speaker 1: this is perhaps the very finest, and it just so
Speaker 1: happens to be your waters. Was it luck or fate
Speaker 1: that placed you here? We'll never know. I trust that
Speaker 1: you'll find everything to your liking, and if you don't,
Speaker 1: notify me and I will make sure it is rectified.
Speaker 1: It's all part of my role here as the caretaker.
Speaker 1: You know your lack of verbal supplication is really breaking
Speaker 1: down my sense of boundaries. I can trust you, right
Speaker 1: of course I can. In these coming days, you may
Speaker 1: notice that Hawthorne Manner has no shortage of oddities. I've
Speaker 1: witnessed things myself that strain the belief. But there is
Speaker 1: one strange legend that has truly become something of an obsession.
Speaker 1: Supposedly that somewhere within these halls there is a hidden doorway.
Speaker 1: If the tale of what looks on the other side
Speaker 1: is to be believed, then gaining access would mean a
Speaker 1: sort of ascenction beyond human imagination, true immortality. I have
Speaker 1: come to understand that one of our guests knows how
Speaker 1: to locate and open this door. Perhaps what they can
Speaker 1: not saying to me, they will happily divulge to you.
Speaker 1: I have a feeling your quiet fortitude will lure them
Speaker 1: into a sense of intimacy. It has certainly worked on me.
Speaker 1: Please make yourself at home. After all, this is it,
Speaker 1: there are so many others. I cannot wait for you
Speaker 1: to meet very well until tomorrow on behalf of Hawthorn
Speaker 1: Manner at you, my friend. Thirteen Days of Halloween was
Speaker 1: created by Matt Frederick and Alex Williams and executive produced
Speaker 1: by Aaron Manky, starring Keegan Michael Key as the caretaker.
Speaker 1: Today's story was written and performed by Nicholas Dakowski and
Speaker 1: directed by Matt Frederick, with editing and sound designed by
Speaker 1: Alex Williams. Only twelve days remain Tomorrow another story. He
Speaker 1: started sleeping with that thing on, lighting up our bedroom
Speaker 1: and didn't bother me at first, But after about a
Speaker 1: week I woke up in the middle of the night
Speaker 1: to go pee and I found him there, curls up
Speaker 1: on the floor, nestles up against the wall and nikelahotha nightlight.
Speaker 1: It just got worse from there. He insisted on sleeping
Speaker 1: with all the overhead lights on too, keet the closet
Speaker 1: doors up, and all the time tape the windows up
Speaker 1: to get the night time out. I thought he was crazy,
Speaker 1: I really did. The problem was he wasn't crazy enough.
Speaker 1: Thirteen Days of Halloween is a production of iHeartRadio, Blumhouse Television,
Speaker 1: and Grimm and Mild from Aaron Manke. For more podcasts
Speaker 1: from iHeartRadio, visit the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever
Speaker 1: you listen to your favorite shows and learn more about
Speaker 1: Thirteen Days of Halloween at grimm dmild dot com