S1/E4 | The Great Library

You'll note the vaulted ceilings, of course, and the fresco depicting the serpent leading eve to an lightenment and all that followed. The artist was a sweet man, quiet. He liked to lick his bruscious clean throughout the day. Some mineral caused him to go quite mad. You'll notice the increasingly violent imagery at the further stages. Some of the oldest books in existence resigned here with symbols which have not been seen by modern eyes. The architect, as you

can guess, was quite the collective. He hoarded knowledge like a dragon and this was his lair. Did you know that when the library at Alexandria burned, a small collection of occult books were spared by a sect of rabbis who passed them from generation to generation, protecting them until the architect himself came to possess them. The books have

remained safe here ever since. The pages, filled with strange secret rounds that predate Alexandria by many centuries have the intrigue in quality of being both completely alien to the reader and perfectly understandable. I would not recommend them. Oh My, it seems we're not alone. Come Out, come out, wherever you are. No, I should have known. My friend this is David. He's quite fond of the literary arts. David, my friend here, is quite the fan of stories. Now

I'll excuse myself. There is a tomb here on the Great Necropolis of Baghdad that I'm simply dying to read. A joke, somewhat of a joke. Yeah, I'm here often, I realized more and more than anywhere else, I think. But these books, I find them comfortable. You know, the thing about books is that it's really just a way to escape, even if only briefly. When I first came here to this place, someone else are fairly often. He would sit in that worn red leather chair. I never

saw him coming and going. He was just always here, like just sort of staring off into the void. Well, anyway, we we left each other alone. And then one day, I guess I got a bit too close and he looked directly at me. His eyes were so sunken, filled with so much sadness. Then he asked me, what's the most pain you've ever felt? He was so earnest, you know, like he needed the answer. Oh, I said nothing. I

just went about my day and carried on with my business. Well, I kept coming back here, you know, as often as I could and he was always there, just sitting. After that, one time he began to speak a little bit more, but only asked the same question, what's the most pain you've ever felt? I never replied, but truthfully, though, I did think about that question and I knew what the answer was. When our daughter was born, both making his

parents and my parents were there. My father was a very religious man, but religious in that old school fire and brimstone away. In his world there were demons and signs from God, all very, very real. I mean, I was a believer, sure, but never quite the way he was. You know. Anyway, when the baby's first party, you think there's immediately going to be some crying, right, but not

always my father's are. He called it an abomination. She was born on call, just floating in the embriotic sac still a whole, like like a big clear egg, very peaceful, like she was still in the womb. It's harmless really, just very rare and kind of beautiful. But to my father the call was a curse, a mark. My views right, even if he's the one that brought in on us. Elizabeth was such a beautiful child, man, but you know, I guess everybody says that about their own babies. She

hardly ever cried. She was just happy. You know, our parents helped with babysitting when I got back to work, but my father, we usually refused to come over and when he did he just stared at her and read Bible verses. There was so much hatred and rage in that man's eyes, he'd say. And when he called on to him his twelve disciples, he gave them power against unclean spirits, to cast them out and to hear all manner of sickness and all manner of disease. Elizabeth was

no goddamn disease. That was my child. This when I went for months, the rift between US and my father it grew in and my parents the visits became less frequent, until father just stopped showing up, and eventually so did my mom. Honestly, I thought they were just done with us, with Elizabeth. I was upset at first, but eventually that faded and a baby girl was the best thing that ever happened. She was a world. That first year was

something else. I definitely didn't want it to end. You know, I've heard other parents say that they feel sad sometimes watching their children grow up and knowing that the kids won't need them anymore. But that's life, right. Kids grow up, sometimes they don't. Do you remember the last thing you said to someone you cared about this morning or yesterday or whenever it was? Did you tell them you love them, nor how much they added to your life? Yeah, I

doubt it, but that's what happens. You take something for granted, you take someone for granted. Very last words I said to my wife or don't worry about dinner, I'll pick something up. I would text her at lunch and she would send me pictures of Elizabeth when, you know, she did something cute which was always and I never got tired of it. This Day, there were no pictures, no text no replies. It's weird. Or maybe she's busy. Maybe maybe Elizabeth threw up or had diarrhea, or maybe they're playing,

you know, I don't know. I started to get worried, though. I couldn't take it anymore and I left. I kept telling myself everything was fine. I'm just playing or making drop the phone in the toilet or something, I don't know. Despite the panic, I opened the front doors as slowly as I couldn't tiptoe in. I thought maybe they were just napping and I didn't want to wake them. Different Creek and every floorboard seemed to amplify when you're trying

to be quiet, you know, especially when there's a sleeping baby. Well, you know, I could clearly see that they weren't on the couch, and then I heard a creek to my left, so I quickly called out to my wife, Megan. No reply, so I turned to the sound and everything went black. I'm oping the trunk of a car. Hands and ankles were tied. I tried to listen to see what was going on highway. Maybe I heard some music. Every now

and again, but it was a was just noise. And when that trunk opened after being in the dark for so long, for a split second my father looked like an angel descended from heaven to save his only son. And then he hit me again. I came to a second time, tape around my mouth. Now I knew this place, small church, from my father preached when me and Megan

were married. He strapped me into a chair in the middle of the aisle and the pews we were filled, filled with my father's followers, all hanging on his every last word. And he said, I baptize you with water for repentance, but after me comes one who is more powerful than I, who sandals I'm not worthy to carry. He who baptize you with Holy Spirit and fire. All churches like this. When they do Baptisms, they dump people all the way under. My father was there in the

ceremonial robes, standing waist deep in the font. Next time was making arms pound the table across her mouth. She was shivering and and bloody. I could hear her muffled cries under the sermon. I felt so hard to get out of the ropes and I was so focused on Megan. I didn't even see it. My father was holding Elizabeth. She was always so quiet, so perfect. I watched as he bless my wife and her daughter. He said he was watching him with a curse, rebuking the abomination our

daughter Lizabeth. Lizabeth was first so we can both watch. Amen as hollow. He's from the Cherry crowd, and I struggled against my restraints until I could feel the warm blood dripping down my wrists. Last thing I remember, through all the screaming and the tears, with my father's voice. After he drowned my daughter and my wife. He put his hands on my shoulder and leaked in, but he said You, Oh my son, oh my love you, I

am well pleased. What's the most pain you've ever felt? Yeah, that would have been the answer I gave him, but I never didn't get to tell that old cook because one day he just wasn't there anymore. I miss him. Every time you asked me that question, he forced me to remember for one brief moment, I got to see Ellistma again, my friend. While on the hunt for a history book, I found this Ancient Tome of dream divination on the architect's private shelf. You'll notice pages marked here

and here, a Palette, a Maelstrom of a portal. What say you? Perhaps a clue to his intentions in building our door? You're right, too soon to tell, I suppose. We shall see. I can tell by your look that you have a first for more than just knowledge. Perhaps tomorrow, for a nice change of pace, reconvisit the sunset lounge for a few libations. Be a dear and at least not excellent drinks. It is. Enjoy perusing the stacks, but

don't trust everything you read. Thirteen days of Halloween was created by Matt Frederick and Alex Williams and executive produced by Erin Manky, starring Keegan Michael Key as the caretaker. Today's story was written by Matt Riddle, performed by David Chin and directed by Matt Frederick, with editing and sound designed by Ben Kybrick, additional writing and script supervision from Nicholas Takowski casting by Jessica loser. Only nine days remain.

Tomorrow another story. Grab my phone, turn on flashlight, APP found a baseball bad stash by my bed and made my waits the front door. M stood there. Who is it? Hey tell me he have to. Thirteen days of Halloween is a production of I heart radio, Blumhouse television and Grimm and mild from Aaron Nankey. For more podcasts from my heart radio, visit the I heart radio APP, apple podcasts or wherever you listen to your favorite shows, and learn more about thirteen days of Halloween at Grimm and

mild dot com. m