S24 Ep17: NoSleep Podcast S24E17

Your morning shower a tranquil river bank or the endless ocean.

“It's time to dive deep into the abyss from the dark waters of the Cape Fear River.”

Immers yourself in horror as you brace yourself for the no sleep podcast.

Hello there and welcome to another episode of The No Sleep podcast.

Whether you've been listening since the beginning have recently found us or anything in between, welcome and thank you for joining us.

“I am Erica Sanderson and I'll be your host for today's stories. If you've been listening for several seasons, you may remember that this is not my first time in the podfathers big chair.”

As I hosted a handful of shows while the team were away on one of their early tours. And speaking of the live shows, no sleep will be a crime wave on sea 2.0 in February, 2027.

You can still sign up at [email protected]/no sleep for your exclusive meeting greet with David Cummings, Jessica McAvoy, Peter Lewis, Lindsay Rosso, Graham Rowett, and the Maestro Brandon Boone. Now, if you're still having trouble recognizing me, don't worry. It's rare that I use my natural speaking voice and you're more likely to have heard me playing a young boy, a creepy granny, or a snarling monster. Some of my more iconic roles include a haunted toilet cubicle, a demonic ice cream truck, and a parrot. Yes, I am a classically trained actor and all that animal work at drama school was worth it.

Now, I joined No Sleep in Season 5 Episode 13, which was produced back in May of 2015. It was a beautiful story called "My wife cooks me dinner by Rona Vassla" and I was partnered with my long-term colleague and friend, Mr. David Alt. In fact, you can probably blame Alt for me being here at all. My background is as a stage actor, and I was doing a theatre show with David in which I had several quick costume changes. David very kindly helped me, and in between undressing me, we ended up talking about our respective careers. At that time, me being way on tour wasn't compatible with family life, so I was looking for a way to branch out my professional acting into voice work, recording scripts from home.

Alt passed my name on to David Cummings, and here I am, over a decade later, all thanks to not being able to zip myself into an evening gown. Since then, I've narrated several stories and played hundreds of characters, and it's the sheer range and variety of roles across ages, gender, humans, demons, and creatures that makes this job such a joy. As well as the opportunity to repeatedly kill me more torture, Mr. Alt. Though, to be fair, he's done his fair share of murdering me as well. In fact, somewhere I've been told that there's a running tally going on, but if anyone's doing a re-listen and wants to keep score, please let me know.

And if you do enjoy my work, you can hear me in several other audio shows, as well as horror games like chasing static and hollow body.

“Away from horror, you may have noticed I'm a bit of a geek. Did anyone catch my Obi-Wan Kenobi hello there at the top of the show?”

Yes, I am a massive star wars fan. Several years ago, I had the opportunity to talk with Sam Whitwell, the current voice actor for Darth Maul, about voice acting, and he was incredibly generous with his time, and I've even used some of the vocal techniques that he showed me in creating some of the creature voices that I've done for no sleep. So, there's some trivia for you. No sleep pod cast genuinely sizzled inspired. And, if you're listening to this episode as it's released, I will just come back from a comic-con in London, where I will have been meeting some of the voice cast from the Clone Wars, whilst dressed as a Jedi.

However, deep down I know I'm going to be like a four-year-old on Christmas morning, as stories from a galaxy far far away have always been a lifelong passion.

“Much in the same way as my love of theatre, which goes right back to my childhood at the Convent, where the nuns first fostered my love of singing and performing.”

Far from being a serene and angelic upbringing, there was a healthy dose of mischief and eccentricity from the sisters that I've definitely carried with me throughout my career. Speaking of things seemingly angelic, this brings us on to today's theme, in which we will meet a host of celestial inspired characters and places. But rather than the sound of heavenly trumpets accompanying the cherubim and seraphim, you can guarantee there will be much more wailing, grinding of teeth and screams of terror.

So take a deep breath, as we dive into the dark waters of this week's tales. Erica, I'm just going to crawl out of the Cape Fear for a second, so our sleepless fans can learn more about Indecloud. Look, I don't know who needs to hear this, but buying groceries and living should not feel like a luxury experience.

“We all have to cut many corners these days, and that's stressful, which is exactly why everyone is getting a little more intentional about how they actually unwind.”

That's where Indecloud fits in. Indecloud is your fully legal online cannabis dispensary for gummies, exotic flower, premium pre-rolls, zero sugar THC sodas, sleep gummies, and now rooms. A clean alcohol-free way to relax, reset, or shift your mindset without throwing off tomorrow. Everything available is federally legal hemp THC, lab tested, and shipped discreetly to your door. I love and use and pay for Indecloud's products, so knowing their effective and affordable makes it easy for me to not only endorse Indecloud, but also highly recommend them, no pun intended.

If you're 21 or older, go to indecloud.co. That's dot co.com, and for new customers use code no sleep for 40% off your first order.

That's indecloud.co. Code no sleep for 40% off, shipped discreetly to your door, plus free shipping on orders over $50, and free gifts on qualifying orders. And please don't forget to fill out the quick survey when you order to support our show. Enjoy responsibly, and thanks to Indecloud for making me feel a little more manageable. Now let's kick off these stories, Erica. In our first tale, the young woman moves to the beach town of Angel Bay, to live with her aunt. While there's a chance of romance with a local boy, there's something else rippling under the surface of the waves in order to see Macanelli's story of awakening destiny.

Performing this tale, unicol good night, Nicole Doolin, and Kyle Acas. Be careful on the shore, and beware the tides, in welcome to the water. [Music] I lived in the mountains my whole life. I am locked with only a nearby river, barely brought enough to warrant a bridge as my main source of water. But once my parents passed in a car accident, I was sent back to live with my mother's people. To live with my aunt Lydia, who I had only met once when I was very small, and she had come to visit us. She'd send us postcards every once in a while, but that was it. I remember her being kind and funny, but she was still a stranger. Not much different than the kind of strangers in my hometown that took me in at first.

I dreaded being stuck in a car with her for hours, but she made it easier than I thought it would be. We don't have to dog if you don't want to. We can listen to music or just sit in silence. That she gave me choices meant she was trying, but I was still wary of her. Um, music is fine for now. But even I couldn't stand that talking for hours.

“The first hour of the trip I tried to sleep, but the sun was in my face the whole time, so I decided to get a few questions answered. Why didn't you visit more?”

I could ask you that same question. I did ask. I asked Mom that a lot. She said it was too much money for all three of us to travel to see you, and that there was no way she would send me here alone. She said she couldn't bear the thought of being that far away from me.

And believe me, I did offer for you to come stay. Your mother was always very protective of you.

Is there more than just you? Do I have more ants? You have great aunts and cousins, many cousins, almost to them did like your mom and leave home and get married, but the Delmar family has been an angel basins it was established. Who the town is small, it's our family's anchor.

“Is that why you never came to visit? You had to be the Delmar that managed the ancestral home?”

It's ancestral home. I wish we had such an estate for you to inherit AD, but here partially, right? This is where we grew up.

It's always been home, and honestly I can't imagine any place being better than this.

Sure, there are the flashy cities for those who need noise and to constantly be doing something. But Angel Bay is the perfect balance of life, a feeling like you belong to a community, and the peacefulness that the heartbeat of the sea offers. It doesn't sound much different than back home, maybe it'll be easier to adjust to it that way. Once the sun was out of my eyes, I stopped talking and took that nap. Not to avoid Aunt Lydia, but to avoid the motion sickness. She let me sleep for most of the drive, but woke me up as we are approaching town.

The coast was vastly different than the towering mountains I was used to. On the drive-in, the only things massive here were the cliffs that faced the ocean. As if they were the last sentinels toward off the thrashing waves. It's magnificent, isn't it? I'll have to show you the cliffs it's sunset.

“It was pretty, but the storm grey sky didn't feel welcoming, and once we made it to Angel Bay, the cliffs were nowhere in sight,”

just a few rolling hills that jetted out into the ocean, like desperate creatures reaching for the water. The town was small, but not quiet. I saw when Aunt Lydia meant by the perfect balance of life and peace. As we drove by, there were plenty of people out on the street, some selling their goods from pop-up tents or roll-able stands, others shopping among the row of vendors. It looked like a fisherman's farmer's market and the flea market combined. We are small, but we take care of each other. You'll see how the longer you're here.

It only took a few minutes to drive through the whole town and finally make it to Aunt Lydia's.

Her hut set on the shores of one of what I assumed were several beaches here. It was bigger inside than it looked outside, with many windows to let in the light. I hoped one of the shops we passed had some blackout curtains. As I got out of the car, I was surprised at how warm it was, even with the grey sky threatening to open up on us. I'd felt the human hug of the valley and the mountains during summers, but this was a different type of warm.

I'd have to decide if I liked it or not. Aunt Lydia pointed me to my bedroom. It was bear with only a twin-sized bed tucked in the corner, but it had its own sliding glass door that led out to the ocean. I purposely kept a bear for you so you could make it your own. There are several shops in town that have decorval styles. I'd be happy to help you buy some things. Thanks, Aunt Lydia. Maybe after I get what I do have unpacked and feel settled in.

Everything in the kitchen is free game and you're welcome to any part of the house. Feel free to start settling in or to just pass out on the bed tonight. Whatever you want to do, I'll be in the living room or on the side porch if you need me. She's trying. I'll give her that. But part of me really didn't care about it. The move.

Being hundreds of miles away from where I was raised, just like the new smiling faces didn't matter. Hot, really? Nothing felt real, except for the emptiness that my parent's death engulfed with me. Aunt Lydia was trying not to push herself on me too quickly. But the space she gave me ended up being the space the grief needed to swallow me whole. When I started school, I wasn't rude to the girls and guys in my classes who made a point to introduce themselves to me and attempt to become my friend.

But the smile I put on my face wasn't real. At least not until I met Bailey and Morgan. Bailey was the first person here to make me genuinely laugh. Morgan was there laughing right along with me, but the first time I saw him, it was the first time I felt anything since arriving here. I took that as a good sign, but tried not to think about it too much.

Until he decided to ask me out, it took a couple of weeks of the three of us hanging out from the ask. I don't know if he had to muster up the courage or just find him in it without Bailey there, but he finally asked before the last bell rang before the weekend.

“Hey, Dee, would you want to come to the cliffs with me this weekend?”

Oh, to hang out with you and Bailey?

No, just you and me. The sunset is amazing, off of the crack can.

The crack can? Oh, that's the name for the largest cliff on the West Beach. And there's legends, the first people of Angel Bay making sacrifices to an ocean god, so they named it after the crack in. Yeah, the pun did not escape me. If you don't want to go, no, no, I would love to go with you.

Every time he smiled my body tightened in ways, I didn't know it could. Cool. I'll pick you up right before sunset then. I made my way home and told Aunt Lydia the plan for the evening. She was used to me running off with Bailey and Morgan, but when she heard it would be just me and Morgan going to the crack can.

She asked me to set it the table and talk.

“I'm glad you've got your first chance at a boyfriend here, but I think we need to lay down some more ground rules we haven't discussed yet.”

Mom already had the talk with me, so please skip that if that was on your agenda. Aunt Lydia stared at me for a moment, calculating. She already talked to you about what being intimate with someone means for you. She did not dance around it like you are attempting to do right now, but yes. Good.

I should have known she would have been blunt about it.

But I assume she never told you the rules of the waters since you were lay unlocked.

She didn't know. The west cliff he's taking you to, as long as you're up there, just don't get too close to the edge. But if he tries to take you down to west beach, stay out of the water. I don't care if he says he's ready. Stay on the shore or make him drive you down to Bayer's beach.

The water is too treacherous on the west beach. One rip tide and you're gone. Stay on the cliffs or go to Bayer's beach. I can't stop you from doing what you want, but I will caution you to be smart and be careful.

“And if he touches you in a way you don't want.”

Okay. That's enough of that talk. Don't worry. I'll be fine. I'm sure you will be.

The dying light of the day set the sky on fire over the ocean.

The cliff was lined up just perfect enough for the sun to look like it was setting on the edge of the crag. I might have my aunt and did not stop that far out on the edge. Morgan brought a blanket for us to sit on and when to cover up with. The wind cut through us as the waves broke out against the rocks below. Before we sat down, Morgan had to be the brave one that stepped out.

Arms out stretched as if to hug the sun. But it didn't take a long to come back to me. The best view is back here, but there's something about standing on the edge of that crag that makes you feel like you're on the edge of the world. I'm good not being on the edge of the world. I've already been on the edge of the abyss and back. Shit is overrated.

He sat beside me and put his hand on mine. I'm sorry about your parents. When I tried to imagine what it would be like without my mom. Where's your dad? He's not dead as far as I know.

But beyond that, I really don't know much. He left me in my mom when I was little. Oh, I'm sorry. He shook it off. Are you okay just sitting and enjoying the view for a bit?

“Of course, that's what we came up here for, right?”

Right. He gave me a knowing smile. And in that moment, I realized he meant for a lot more to happen than us just looking at a pretty view. We'd had subtle touches the last couple of weeks. A brush of the elbow, or hands lingering longer than they should have on shoulders or backs.

There'd been heat between us from the beginning. But I didn't know how far I actually wanted to take that right then. What I did know, though, was that I wanted to feel something other than the emptiness. Sounds like we aren't the only ones who decided to come to the cliffs for the sunset. I heard them before I saw them, another group of couples from school.

They said, hey, is they passed but continued on for whatever plans they had for the night? It's getting a bit crowded here. Do you want to go to the beach? I don't mind sitting on the West Beach, but I'm not getting in. Or for me, I'm not ready to jump in the water either.

Come on. We made the track down the cliffs and to the West Beach. The sun had dipped beneath the water by the time we got settled in. Morgan talked to me into taking my shoes off and walking in the sand.

I didn't like it at first.

The coarse grain, like the dirty sandboxes I played in as a kid. But the more I walked, the easier it got. Still, it was a completely different texture than the grass of the valley or the foliage of the mountains I missed. But the ocean made the difference. It's constant rhythm on the shore and the wind made for better background noise than some of the annoying bird song I was used to hearing.

Instead of musk in the air, there was salt. I didn't think there could be so much salt in the air, but it wasn't uncomfortable just now. New sensations comforted me, pushed away the longing for the mountains. Including Morgan's hands. I sat down in front of him and he wedged his whole body against the back of me.

Legs and arms and golfing me. I leaned back into him, felt his warm, smelled sandalwood in a hint of vanilla on him. As distractions go, this was the best. Morgan, puzzled his face close against my ear. His breath hot against my cheek.

I turned in his arms enough to face him and answered him by pressing my lips against his.

“As we kissed our hands explored each other's bodies until he flipped his over and I was laying up looking at him.”

Something in the water caught my eye for a moment. Something glistening bright white just over the waves. But Morgan pulled my attention back to him as he tightened his hold on me. Neither of us noticed the tide rising into the waves rest over our feet. Morgan yelped him off because it was cold, but I was frozen in place gasping for air.

The chill of the ocean ran through my whole body and didn't let go. I gasped at the sensation as the cold ran down my throat. I tried to breathe but only felt rushes of water filling into my lungs. Water that wasn't there. AD?

What's wrong? Adrian? I didn't have the breath to tell him and didn't even know what to tell him. Just as I thought I was going to pass out, the cold shivered through my body and gathered in my right hand. So cold.

So cold it burned.

Once I had my breath back I started screaming.

I raised my arm to look at it. My hand had turned completely white. I'll call my mom. She'll know what to do. I barely registered his words. I didn't want him to leave me. I didn't want to die alone.

I reached for him with that pale white hand. And as soon as my fingers touched his skin, the cold spread to him. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't control it. But a part of me was also relieved to have some of the pain received. That relief was thrown to the side as Morgan started screaming.

For a moment I thought the cold would run through his body the same way it did mine. But as I watched him ride, his body began to melt. I had no better word for it. It was like his body had lost its form. Like how water keeps the shape of the cup of sin but once it's spilled it runs all over.

“That's what was slowly happening to Morgan.”

His voice became a wet gargle as his body slowly slid apart. Becoming gelatinous, no muscle blood or bones. Instead he faded into liquid and disappeared, leaving only a dark spot in the sand. And even that disappeared as the water came in again and washed over. Leaving no trace of Morgan.

I shook my head and started crying. It couldn't be real. I heard someone from the group on the cliff called down to me asking if everything was okay. I ignored them and ran. I ran off the beach and hit the road and I didn't stop. I ran back to the hut.

Tears cooling my cheeks as my eyes burned from all the crying and the wind fighting against me. The coldness of my arm was almost gone. If what happened was real, then my touch did it. God. I killed Morgan.

It's Lydia. It's Lydia. She came out of her bedroom. I'm here, Adrian. What's wrong?

What's happened? She held her arms out as if to embrace me but I stepped back. Don't touch me. At Lydia kept her distance nodding that she understood. What happened?

I let myself collapsed to the floor. Morgan, we were on the beach. We didn't go in the water. Like you said, we were just on the shore and we started kissing. But then the tide came in and the water just went up and then…

Oh, Adrian.

“Your mother didn't tell you that any contact would do it?”

Do what? At Lydia's eyes widened and her face pale. You said she told you what would happen if you got into it with someone. She told me what sex was she didn't tell me about this. Are you saying I did this?

I killed you? Tell me exactly what happened to him. He melted into the water. His whole body became one big puddle. And of sleeping liquid. What?

At Lydia grabbed her coat. We have to get back there now. I'll explain everything but I need you to get in the car and show me where this happened. I did what she said. We hopped in the car and with my aunt so calm I put myself back together.

Stop crying and start asking questions. You know what happened? At Lydia glanced over for just a minute before turning her eyes back to the road. There are five families in Angel Bay that have been here before the town was even created. We are one of them.

When Morgan introduced himself, I thought from his last name he wasn't one. But Morgan's maternal side of the family. Do you know what their name is? No, no, I haven't even gone to his house yet. When members from any of the five families pair up and do so at the West Beach,

your mom never mentioned any of our family history to you about this.

What? We can turn people into goo? No. It's not just that. That's just one way for a manifest.

For what? To manifest. I'll have to show you. The sky turned dark by the time you got back to the beach.

Only use a purple and blue as night approached.

“I took Aunt Lydia to the beach but before I could start making the track down to it, Aunt Lydia stopped me.”

Do you see them? She pointed to the cliff side of the beach. One of the couples from before had let a fire in the sand and was still laughing and having a great time. If only they knew how close they were to the horror. Yeah?

What about them? She pointed out to the water. Do you see that? Again, I tried to follow where she was pointing. At first I saw nothing.

Then that same white glimmer I saw earlier was there. Almost in the same spot. The light? I see it. What is it?

Most of the families in Angel Bay know the story even the outsiders who move here.

But if they don't believe, if they think it's just a story then they ignore the rules. Aunt Lydia, why are you so calm about this? Because if you will just listen, there's a chance we can get Morgan back. But it's not something I can do for you. You have to learn to do it yourself.

“So, must you watch and see if those two are going to show you what to do or if they show you what happens if you break the rules?”

My heart was beating out of my chest. It was so scared and confused. I trusted my aunt enough to do what she asked, but if I didn't get any answer soon I was going to the cops. The light in the water glimmered for a bit longer. But the couple in the beach either didn't see it or ignored it.

They kept carrying on laughing and having a good time. The light dimmed but also transformed. It almost looked like a body was floating face down in the water with the light shining on it. If I hadn't seen the light there before, I'd have thought the rising moon was reflecting off the pale body. The laughing died around the campfire.

They stood up and started a pointing. The guy quickly took off his shirt and shoes and swam for the body while the girl grabbed her phone to call for help. If she's calling 911 they will do nothing. They will come out to see what's left but there will be nothing for them to do. Why?

Keep your eye on the boy and please know I take no joy in this and you cannot do anything either. My heart dropped to my stomach when she said that. What do you mean I can't do anything? See for yourself. I watched as the guy made his way to try to save or at least bring back the body floating on the waves. But about 10 feet away from the body he stopped.

He stopped and started screaming and was pulled under. He and the body both disappeared. The girl started screaming for her boyfriend. Jake or Jack maybe? It couldn't quite make it out from where I was standing.

She threw a sand over the fire to put it out and started running up to the road. You knew something was going to take him? You knew when we could have stopped it. We can't stop it anymore than we can stop gravity. It is the rules of our people of our world.

The water provides as long as we follow the rules. Those who do not follow the rules may pay the consequences. Now let's go. There's no way I'm stepping foot down there.

“If you want to try to save Morgan you must come with me.”

I cried out in frustration but then took the lead on the truck down to the beach. I showed her the blankets and pointed to where his body fell. You have the hand of living liquid. It can transform shapes. In time you could change anything into any shape you want with one touch.

But when the power first appears it's wild, undamed at best and dangerous at worst when you're panicking and scared.

I remember my panic and fear my first time but I had my mother and your mother there to help me. You... I am so sorry I wasn't there for you. So if all that's true then I just have to turn him back into his original shape. But how can I do that if I can't even see him anymore?

No dear. Once the ocean claimed him he belonged to her. Before I could ask what her she was referring to, the white light in the water caught my eye again. It was back. And I had a feeling that was the her.

Raise the hand that holds the power AD. Raise it. And no matter what don't move. Not until I tell you. I did what she asked because what else could I do at that point.

I raised my right arm and felt the coldness of the ocean in my hand again. But the light did something new. It moved toward us. It couldn't control my breathing as the thing approached. My eyes darted from my hand back to the light.

My hand had not only turned white, it glowed. It glowed brighter as the light came closer. The same hue as that terrible pale sliver of a ray in the water. The light rose up from the waves and a shadow of a form followed it.

The helpless body that the guy went to help.

“The skin was a hue of blue I'd never seen before on the person and waterlocked.”

It was attached to the light. They hung from the same rod. Oh God. As they looked beneath the light, I could see the teeth. Rose and rose of teeth jutting out from the lower jaw of this thing.

My stomach turned once I noticed the ripped jeans cloth stuck between its teeth. It really did eat the guy. As the light swayed above, it shined down on one eye about the size of a basketball. Oh God. The light and body were allure.

The thing in front of me looked like a mutated angler fish.

As if those things weren't scary enough.

And this one was the size of a small whale. Instead of fins it had webbed feet to pull itself up on shore with. The massive creature stopped five feet in front of me and it took everything I had not to scream. Aunt Lydia went to her knees and bowed. Greetings, Krueeta.

The mother of our people. The womb of the ocean.

“The creature gaped like the fish she was out of water.”

But her breathing calmed. She had a fleshy plum of external gills like an axolotl. Was she amphibious? If Morgan is one of ours, you can use your hand on her to call him back and finish the ritual. You started with him.

Started the first time you kissed in the water touched you.

If he is not one of ours, she may still give him back but will ask for something in return. Ask? Not? Ask? As long as you abide by her rules, she is fair.

Lay your hand on her and push that power into her and think of Morgan. I tried to control my breathing as I took an uncertain step forward. Can't still raise. I avoided the hanging body as I moved to one side of her. I didn't bear touch her mouth.

I laid my hand on the side of her face beneath her eye and imagined the cold in my hand moving into her. Imagineing Morgan and my arms kissing me. Please give him back. The cold of the ocean left my body and instead a warmth filled me. The light that started in her lure ran down the length of her spinal fins and threw her gills.

The bloated body hanging above her face began to twitch and things moved beneath the skin, filling it up. The decaying blue hue got replaced with a pearl white glow. An arms swelled. The skin shed and revealed a hardened black shell with a picture at the end where the hand once was. The screen ripped from the mouth of the body.

The face still flowing and reshaping until I saw Morgan's face. Have hardened with that bracket shell, leaving a gaping hole on one side where his other eye should be. A compound eye. Stretch long and thin. Enging from a stalk that seemed so small, emerged from that gaping eye socket.

Morgan? He dropped from the rod of the creature like right fruit. His crab arm hit the sand and he looked up at me. His human eye was no longer brown but pale blue like the ocean. Idi?

His voice was not quite his. It was deeper with more rumble but he said my name with heat. I wasn't sure if it was anger or passion and I was almost afraid for him to touch me. But ever since I pushed my power into the creature, a calm took over me. Like, I was exactly where I belong.

Praise the mother, look at you. Look at you both. I forgot Aunt Lydia was there until she spoke. There was no worry or fear in her eyes now. She came to me and hugged me.

No fear in either of us. Welcome to your true homemadey. The water welcomes you. Let's take a short break for our sponsors who help us keep our heads above water. For waves of ad-free horror content, join our sleepless universe by going to sleepless.com.

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“Now let's plunge back into the deep waters of horror.”

Before Horseman ride into a small town bar in the middle of the desert, the bartender looks to make a quick buck from them. However, in this tale shared with us by author Nico Lapidus,

the strangers have their own charitable mission to complete.

Performing this tale, are Graham Wright, Atticus Jackson, and Jesse Cornett. So get ready to meet, slake, slaughter, savage, and sully. The Four Horseman were coming. Jacob could see them from the dirty window, and while he sat behind the bar and served ale to whatever Richard customers might want any,

he pondered what these visitors might be doing here. Nobody came to the town of Hallick for any small reason. The desert journey from town to town was a long and arduous trek, especially if one didn't have a wagon, and few people in the 35 municipalities of the copper desert had horses, let alone wagons. And so, it ended up that each town was cut off from the rest almost entirely,

marooned in the sandy sea. All tricklings of trade arrived at Hallick once in a while, but their last shipment of horse jerky, fresh water, and bullets for the constable, is two days ago. They weren't expecting another trade anytime soon. And yet, four men rode towards the town in four billowing dust clouds.

When Jacob squinted, he saw they were dressed in colorful, rubbish garb. They wore suits, each a different color, and Jacob could make out the outline of four hats, rakeishly cocked on each head. Jacob shrugged and got back to his work. The four men would arrive soon, and then he could find out their reasons for being there,

and maybe sell them some ale. These folks looked rich with their fast horses and bright suits. Maybe they were wandering tradesmen, coming with wares from one of the richer towns. Or maybe they were silvermen, sent by the church to convert Hallick to the silver flock. Well, Hallick did not need that.

It was plenty devout as it was. Jacob wasn't the most pious man around, but he did his dues for the hooded lady, going to the rickety chapel in the town square twice a week. Still, he wasn't quite as pious as even the most blasphemous silvermen.

All the girls in Hallick could tell you that, and a good portion of them could tell you that with certainty.

“Jacob slid another ale across the bar, wordlessly accepting the payment.”

Examined the stone coin with a dismal look in his eyes, then looked back to the approaching forms of the brightly dressed horsemen, getting closer slowly, horses now trotting lazily. If they came to his bar, they would pay with more than stone. A good old copper disc or a jangling pouch of flint chips. Maybe they'd even have silver.

Well, if Jacob could get a bit of the holy metal into his humble pockets, why then he'd go to chapel every day, clean the dust and grime off the hooded lady and everything. Jacob smiled distantly and pushed another ale across the bar. That was a good dream, perhaps it had come true in a few minutes. A winy broke his hopeful stupor and he looked out of the panel doors to see who he hoped were silvermen,

silvermen bearing faith and gifts. The forehead already dismounted from their horses, hopping onto the dusty ground as gracefully as the hooded maidens in the chapel.

“But Jacob's hopes were dashed when they walked through the bar doors.”

There wasn't a chunk or a chip of silver to be found anywhere on them. Some holy men wore just a tiny nugget around their neck, and others but deck themselves in heavy robes of silk beads, and most importantly, silver. But no matter how much they had, they made it visible. A chain around their throats affixed by the hooded lady.

There was no silver on these men. Damn. He tried to quail his disappointment. So a minute, the only ones with lots of loot. These could be merchants, a prospectus.

He still got a chance to put some stone in your pocket before the day's done, jakey boy. As the four men approached the counter, Jacob plastered a smile onto his face,

“and furtively moved the sign that listed the day's prices.”

He had the chance to make some not insignificant money here. Welcome to Halik, and welcome to the woodbarsers. What's your business in our humble town? The four men smiled, all at once, like they had rehearsed this. They all wore the same thing, a suit of solid color, pointed leather boots,

and around bowler hat matching the suit. They looked neither like merchants nor silver men, but at least they didn't look like outlaws. That was the least he could hope for when strangers rode to Halik, especially when the constable was slumped over one of Jacob's chairs in the back room,

where the true drunkards went. The suits they wore were each a different color.

The first man, tall and barrel-chested, wore a black suit.

The second, skinny and short, with stooped shoulders and hooded eyes, wore one of pale green. The other two men could have in twins, except that they dressed in suits of white and red. However, despite these small differences, all four men looked like each other. They had the same face, hleshy, even though all of them were thin,

with hooded grayish eyes and an equally grayish paler. There was a strange neutrality to their clay-like faces. Almost as if they were the faces of men who had everything else stripped away. Perhaps they were brothers. Eight identical eyes gazed at Jacob from above four identical horseshoe-shaped moustaches,

and four smiles were cut into the clay.

The man in black spoke first.

Why? We are quite pleased to be in your town of Halik. The red one nodded. We won't stay long. As we have urgent business to attend to here.

Both of them spoke with voices that were so similar, it was almost eerie. They had a strange accent, a silky, lilt, drizzled over their words like syrup. The one in white spoke next, with that same odd dialect. And before we start our business, may we order a drink from here. Sure.

Jacob tried to be friendlyer than he had been all day. He didn't want to lose these customers.

Say, are you all brothers or something?

“They all nodded him, and the one in black, perhaps their leader, spoke for them.”

Why yes, we are. It is a pleasure to meet you, Jacob. Jacob squinted at the man. His muddy brown eyes meeting the grey ones buried in flesh, almost as grey. Did I tell you my name?

They shook their heads.

And for the first time, the one in the suit of pale green spoke.

No, but we have heard of you. We have heard of your town from very far. Jacob smiled, a big wide smile that took considerable effort to maintain. That's so. The more these four men spoke out of their pale, flushing faces, the more Jacob wanted

them out of his bar. There was something off about them.

“Something that was, in his opinion, foul.”

Just looking at them had made him pick up on a bad scent. Why? We have not even introduced ourselves. How rude. You'll need to forgive us, Jacob.

The way the man in black put it sounded like an apology. At least on the surface, but Jacob couldn't help but feel that he was being ordered about. He sure his hell didn't like being ordered about. Certainly not by some out of town bastards with their clay faces and their fancy suits.

He looked down for a second and saw that the knuckles around the bottle he held were white.

The man in black continued. My name is Mr. Slake. Brothers, why don't you introduce yourselves? The short hunched little monster of a man, not at a head topped with a mossy green hat, oily skin, glistening. I'm Mr. Slorter, my good sir.

“The two other brothers obliged, like coyotes howling at the sound of their pack leader.”

The one in white taking initiative next. "Good to meet you, Jacob. I'm Mr. Slake." The man in red reached forward and truck Jacob's hand. His grip was cold and clammy, like having your hand shaken by a codfish.

Jacob didn't like it in the slightest. Pleasure. Clyde Pleasure. I'm Mr. Sandwich. You made no worse as Slake, Slater, Sandwich, didn't sunny.

And we are many. Jacob extracted his hand from savages, trying his best to ensure that a deal was made, and that it was over as quickly as possible. He wanted this slimy quartet of riders out of his bar as soon as possible, but Grede was a hard thing to snuff out.

They looked wealthy. Anyone showing up here, alone and dressed like this, had to be wealthy or mad. So, would you like to order something? We have a good selection of drinks, nothing fancy like, but a good strong ale can be damn refreshing after a long ride.

Take it from me.

Jacob had never ridden anywhere other than from one end of Hallock to another,

but he saw no reason to offer that. The foremen did nothing but look and smile at him, oily skin, glistening. There was no visible intelligence in their expressions. Perhaps they were simpletons.

Unwanted, coming from a town with no room for village fools. Well, all the better to sell the mail. Is good? It occurred to him that many of his customers had fallen silent, dropping their conversations to low murmurs as they hunched over glasses of ale,

and bowls of fried bark. The loudest sound in the room was the constable snoring. His six-shooter flopping wimply at his wide belly. Strong stuff. Not cold, maybe, but.

Wait, you ride off. Or then quits you to sleep and he says you're weary. Why? We will order for ale's. He's our wearys after a long journey, as you say.

Jacob nodded. It hadn't been what he was hoping for.

Local specialty.

Still, business was business.

“For slake, slaughter, sell-y, and savage.”

The sooner they had their ale's. The sooner they could get out of his bar. Bringing their shiny suits on their strange smell. Like old crackers or bread out of there. That'll be a two-flint's each.

The standard price was one stone chip, but he might be able to fool some out of town's simpletons. Hell, if he couldn't fool some out of town's simpletons, what the hell was he doing behind the bar anyway. Slotter nodded.

Then reached into his mossy green pocket and pulled out something small and shiny. Not black, like flint, but the smokey gray of lead. Jacob's mouth went dry when he realized it was a bullet.

Nobody had guns around here, saved the six of the twelve constables.

One of them passed out drunk in his bar. Slotter placed a bullet on the table, and it stumped, sounded like a tonne of stone crashing down. At least a Jacob. Here you are, my good man.

“Slotter's face was affixed in a blank grin,”

infuriating in its alien stupidity. Jacob frowned, but couldn't bring himself to glare. Not if these strangers were packing bullets. They would have guns too, no doubt. When Jacob looked down as fertibly as he could.

He could see the handle of a six-shooter on a hidden holster. Each of the grinning, pistachio, tricks, bore two, and plenty of bullets. Well, uh... [clears throat]

Is that the border?

Because you'd have better luck trading that to the constable than me.

I have to tell you. Ah, oh no! Was that silly? Or savage? The one in red.

Whatever the case, he answered for slaughter. That reminded Jacob of these buzzing.

“When they flitted and hummed amongst each other,”

their stripes and size were negligible. They were the swarm. And the swarm was them. We are sleek, slaughter, savage, and solid. And we are fair traders.

No, we would not give you bullets for ale. But I see. That's what you just did. Jacob regretted it almost instantly. They had guns.

This suited swarm of grinning beasts in the skin of men. They were not ones to be trifled with, even if there was nothing between their ears but water. In the 35 towns of the copper desert, any man, no matter how small, was a giant,

when armed with a gun. No, I ain't saying I'm not open to trade, but uh... He felt the sentence fizzle away in his mouth. Why? Not at all.

Slake spoke. But at the corner of his eye, Jacob saw savages lips move as well. We are honest brothers and gentlemen. We would not cheat you.

This, uh... is your promised eight flints. Sully reached forward, and Jacob noted with almost mesmerized disgust, the smear of oiliness, the sleeve of his white suit,

left on the bar. It was almost as if he was sweating profusely, but his suit looked completely dry, and it didn't even look like sweat. It was thicker and yellowish,

like mucus had extended from the sleeve. Jacob could feel sweat, trickling off his neck as those four identical, clay sculpted faces, leared at him. Savage, but Jacob could have sworn it was just Sully,

who had reached forward, took the bullet in his flushy fingers, like gray, lumpy sausages. Then he spun it like a top, until it went so fast that Jacob could no longer see it's shape. Just a spinning gray blur.

Then Slake stopped it with a finger, and Jacob realized the bullet was gone. In its place was a pile of small black shards. They had made their payment after all. Why?

See? Here it is! You're eight flints. Jacob felt a low-moaning rising in his throat. He wanted the surreal, hideous dream to end right now.

Savage's face slacking to briefly as he spoke, then reverted to normal. We must have all else since we've paid. It is our rule of reciprocity, my friend. Of course.

Jacob heard how weak and small his voice sounded, even though there was nothing obvious to fear. Were these men sorcerers? Outlaws? Shades come up from another realm to hunt, Halik.

For the first time in a while,

he found himself praying outside the chapel.

“Who did lady, would take me from these four devils?”

Make them leave! I beg you! Jacob reached behind the bar, produced four wooden mugs, and filled them to the brim with his best ale.

Although the best ale in Halik wouldn't be best anywhere else, he was not going to serve the murky grog that he dished out to most customers. Not to men with guns and faces like clay apes. Slake, slaughter, savage and celly took their ale, but they had not started drinking yet.

They just held their cups,

smiling that singular idiot grin made with four mouths.

What is a... What's your business in Halik? A no concern of mine, I'm sure,

“but just like to know what brings you here.”

Slake laughed. Sully clad in white, followed. And to the whole group of them was laughing. All across the bar, his other patrons had gone silent,

staring and whispering as the four paid them no mind. Those flat, muddy eyes were focused entirely on Jacob, but he couldn't bring himself to meet them. How are business? Why?

How are businesses? Fallen therapy.

Jacob couldn't sort out which of them had spoken,

but it made no difference. Pardon? Jerity, my dear man,

“we come here to suit the woes of this town,”

and so many other towns like it in the copper desert. We are men of charity, my friend, and we spread good fellowship from the saddles of our horses. Those horses, Jacob observed with a hideous fascination, a company by a swimming feeling in his gut.

We're not harnessed or anything outside. They just stood still as statues outside the bar, bulging white eyes like glass, not blinking once, despite the boiling sun, and a sand whipping in the air outside.

We aim to begin our charity, just as soon as we finish drinking our ale. Jacob looked at the ale at the four men's bokeh, and saw that the wooden cups were almost drained, but Jacob hadn't seen them take a single sip.

He was glad at least that these things would be off to their charity soon, and out of his bar. Well, that's a fine thing to do, I guess. Are you of the silver church? The men laughed.

Savage in red, starting the chorus this time, but in those muddy eyes, there was something that had not been there before. There was anger. The flesh already saggy and dripping like candle wax, wrinkled prodigiously, becoming an almost alive mass of crumpled flaps.

Slakes, blocky, yellowed teeth stood out like tombstones under Wormy lips. Why no, my friend! We do this for the sake of no hooded hollet. No, the charity and gifts are ours and ours alone. It's like chuckled hideously.

And the response from his horrible, humunculi of brothers was a forced imitation. Repulsive in its contriptness. There was no humor in that wet laugh, and there was none of the fellowship and charity that the writers named Slake slaughter Savage and Sully spoke of.

Jacob's instinct. And likely the instinct of many a man who watched this dark patomime

He, of the black hat and the meaty face.

“No man, even if he was armed to the rotting teeth and not alone,”

could call the hooded lady a harlot. No man. But this was not a man. Jacob found himself thinking. True, Slake and his brothers of the blood and moss

and marrow resembled men. But only by close association. They were barely men. And Jacob felt that they reminded him of apes. Like the creatures he had seen in the beastieries in the town library.

A thing close to a man just on the precipice of true humanity. But not quite there. And all the more awful for it. And so, Jacob did not raise his voice against the four,

“and neither did a single man in the bar.”

As Slake slaughter Savage and Sully held their cups, which seemed to drain invisibly, Jacob found himself wishing for a constable. Constable Carlin was a drunkard and a lazy man. But in his heart, he was a good man.

But more importantly, no one in the town, not even one of the other constables, could out shoot Carlin, a bag of ale that he was. He was quick on the draw, and while there was nothing to suggest he would need that,

Jacob wished he had someone who could ward these suited beasts off. A silverman might have brandished the hooded sign and chanted prayers, but right now Carlin and his revolver would serve better than even the holiest holy man. But Carlin was in the back room, swimming lazily in a cup of ale.

“And so, all Jacob could hope for was that the brothers would leave.”

Get up on their dead-eyed horses and go haunt another town. Slake, slaughter, savage and sunny seemed completely oblivious to Jacob's terror. Such was the awful blankness in their faces that they seemed oblivious of everything. Eyes were supposed to be windows into a man's head.

These windows were boarded up, and perhaps never opened.

Finally, slaughter placed down his cup, another smear of the oily substance on its handle. His brothers followed suit. Why, we have finished drinking our ale, and we must thank you, Mr. Jacob.

Thus, our business with each other is done, and now we have our charity to attend to. Relief bloomed in Jacob, but just for a moment, just a moment of sweeping relief that went away when Slake spoke next. Why, what a lucky man you are, Mr. Jacob.

You will be the first to receive our charity. Then, a long arm raised, meaty fingers clutching a sick shooter. Messers, Slake, slaughter, savage and sunny, all-grinned, one awful, yellow smile. Jacob tried to scream, but nothing came out, but a low-moan.

Why, thank you for the ale. The revolver fired a single bullet of charity, and Jacob's head came apart, splattering everything around him. The four brothers were untouched by the red droplets, which slid off of them easily.

The spell cast over the rest of the bar broke, and they began to scream, knocking tables and chairs over in their dash for the single door. By this time, Slake and Slotter each held two revolvers, and took deadly aim with them,

before the first people even made it out of the swinging doors,

Slake and Slotter had fired, and three more men lay on the floor. The brothers at Black and Green did not miss their shots. Everyone else stampeded for the door, and when they came out, the brothers of red and white, twins with their smiles and moustaches and knives,

with air to greet them. The first cut-down was a wealthy woman. Coming out of the door, she had tripped over her long, ruffled skirts, and fallen to the ground. A savage descended upon a half-blind old man.

His boot came down upon the woman's head, with a sound of an egg shell crunching. Savage and Sully were most efficient in their work. As Slotter and Slake flushed them out of the bar, the beasts in red and white cut them down with knives,

Most went down in one or two cuts.

“Savage and Sully only let one man slip past.”

Half a boy and scared like one. Instead of running out of the door as like all else, he had crashed out the windows. Bloodied, but mostly unheard from the glass, he began to sprint away.

Ten minutes later, after Slake slaughtered Savage and Sully had finished with their charity in the bar, the boy had made it almost three miles, running in a horrified frenzy. He never stood a chance.

He thought he was heading to the closest town, a small lakeside village called Mulland.

The only place he was going was into the open desert.

But Sully caught him anyway, and broke his neck with a snap of his horse whip. But he would not do that right now.

“Right now, the young man was simply flailing away”

from the windows, blooded into glass in his wake. He was the only one not caught by the knives. As for the inside of the tavern, Slake and Slotter were making short work of the rest. The constable had stirred from his drunken stupor by now,

and even foggy minded as he was, he was still the best shot in town. He hit Slotter in the head twice. The bullets had gone through him,

and out the other end, unblooded.

There were small clumps of what looked like clay on the bullets. Then Slotter shot him, finished the rest of the bar, then joined his two brothers. As Sully rode off to catch the boy covered in glass and blood,

Slake and Slotter and Savage dispensed the rest of their charity. They started with the stables,

“where they tossed a bottle of ale and a lit match.”

Ben, Savage bolted the door, and the three brothers rode into the center of town as the horses whinyed and burned. But then, the other five constables saw what was happening. They instructed the people of Hallek to get inside,

to bolt their doors, and pray to the hooded lady. The good people of Hallek did all that, but it did not save them from the charity of the brothers for. The remaining constables made a valiant stand, emptying their barrels into Slake, Slotter, Savage,

and Sully, who had just returned, his horse whipped bloody. All they managed was to rip their suits. Once the brothers finished with them, they set to work on the rest of the town. A few people tried to make it out,

running since their horses were burning. The brothers mounted their horses and ran them down. It was easy for them. The rest of the town was still huddled in their homes, praying to whom Slake had called the hooded harlot.

Slake and Savage rode in circles around the tight compact town, as Slotter and Sully charged into their houses. Those who were driven out either by the brothers of green and white, or the spreading blaze from the stables, ran straight into the knives of Slake and Savage.

By sundown, the town was in flames, and 347 people were dead. Slake stood watching the flames as his three brothers stood beside him. His face was just as placid as it had been when he spoke to Jacob a philanthropy and drank his ale without his mouth.

Why? Come and see brothers before we brought our charity here. There were 347 people in this lovely town. Far away, the four brothers heard the crash as the stone statue of the hooded lady toppled to the ground

and broke into pieces. It brought a smile to the four mouthed face of the clay swarm in suits. Come and see. Savage stood with his body of sticks, eyes of glass,

and face of clay. There were 23,572 people in the copper desert. Yes. The four brothers watched the flames for a few seconds more, then mounted their horses.

There was no more time to waste on admiring their work. Slake looked into the sky of Hallock, choked with smoke, starless and cold. Why? We have 23,225 more to give our charity to.

and the four horsemen rode on.

[Music] And that concludes this episode. I've been your host, Erica Sanderson.

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