M thirteen days of Halloween is from grim and mild blumhouse, and I heart three D audio headphones recommended. Listener discretion advised. So this is your father? Yes, and no. He's the man who raised me. Well, what happened to your real parents? I never knew them. He found me the same way that I found you on the beach. Yes, how old were you? An infant? MM HM. Did you grow up in here? Don't be silly. There's a house a little further up the path. That's where we lived. It's since collapsed.
He's lived here upstairs since, with the light bathed in it. How does he sleep? I'm not sure that he does anymore. Come so, he's very temperamental. Try not to take it personally. He's just very suspect of newcomers, especially those who come in from the water. Don't you worship the sea? M Hm, he's not really one of us. Hello that you go? Yes, sir, well, don't harbor in the stairs. Will come on up. Whatever happens to not tell him how I found you. Why
he doesn't trust the scene. Girl coming, is that WHO's start with? You said, stepped close from my eyes, played tricks in the light well, this is a friend of mine, Papa. Yes, yes, from moments I thought you who. For a second I thought I saw a ghost. She looked like George Barrow in the shadows, George Barrow. Isn't that a good man? George was but a damn fool. Where you say you came in from, Miss I didn't. She came in from the road. What's that? The road, I see, you see.
Would you like a drink, whether it's frightful tonight? Yes, please, yes, please, I hear child. You can drink from my glass. I've had enough tonight. Thank you. Now which way. You say you came in from the road. You're sure about that and you remember? You're right in any details you can recall? Or would you say I just kind of found yourself here the road? It is. Welcome home to dire book. Look, I don't mean to interrogate you nothing. It's just so. I don't get a ton of visits out here from
folks who came in under road. Usually the people that show up here start off down there on the rocks, dragged in on the tide. Funny thing, Ain't it? Old Damn point of a lighthouse is to make sure boats don't crash, but there ain't never any boats out there to begin with, just the people down there and them rocks. You sure you're not the seafaring type? Okay, okay, just double checking, because if you was, you'd know that Diet
Brook hardly has any business even having a lighthouse. Ain't no trade routes without a couple hundred miles here, and we're not exactly a tourist destination. So who are we keeping a light on? Four this lighthouse was abandoned where before I took a post here. No idea where it came from when it was operational last. To be honest, I only moved in in the first place because I needed a place to squat while I figured out my next move. See Me, I didn't come in from there
on the sea either. Why? I came in, like you, on the road, running away from what life had differed me. Is that what you're doing? You're running. Well, I can't speak for you. I had run for too long by the time I found myself here and I was tired. I wanted to turn things around, find some great appurtose and all of that, but may commends for my past sins. Where do you get started with something as big as being reborn? Sure as hell not out in the world.
I don't know how people can hear themselves think. Kind of clear day out there, let all listen, so odd that they can hear the ticking at their innermost clockwork. But then I found myself here die are book quiet queen. But the people you met him right, something not right
about him. EXTEP me out a little from again. Friendly like sure offered me a place to stay in the infant at the diner, through your old damn welcome body in the town square, but that take your way down in the very most complicated parts of my old damn being. told me that while they was good folks, they was off. But if it was solitude I was looking for, this was sure the lace I was going to signed. I had seemed the lineouts down on the road and came
up to explore. The place was all right and through you could hear the wind and the waves whistling through the open spaces in the walls and Sneel and it was all salt hair and choose the smell of black bulls. Exactly what I was looking for. Oh I fine it. I learned my key a few spare bulbs and storage, huge pain, and he asked focus half of them. Their film has busted, but I found the working woman got it assaid Nice and pretty. It's the switch. And what's
that sucker shine? Mesmerizing, watching that beam sweep over the roll and waves like a constant reminder of the world in front of her. I can't feel my darkness being chased away. And that night from day one. But that night wasn't without its horror, of course. I remember thinking that first poor fellow whod up was lucky to be alive. We looked at mess. That man was a priest's thoughts, man of God. His color was still fixed in his shirt,
but everything else was all shredded and threadbare. Beyond his clothes, even serrated fleshwoods, bones broken and all kins were natural ways. Were more striking was the state of his skin. Couldn't put my finger on it. What it seemed that just hangered, especially around the more vulnerable areas, his eyes and the kindness of his mouth. Like when you tenderize a piece of meat, it loses all elasticity, becomes this play do thing. That looks more masked than man when he was disoriented
and shoot. Understandably so. You ever had a near death experience, let me tell you, no matter how it happens, till you're standing on the precipice of the VIBE and spit right into it, will do something to you. Not Okay, you are. Nobody comes back from that for same. And I thought that's what I was dealing with. Here is
this priest, this survivor. Oh he was all in a patic something about his friends still being down on the rocks, but their boat having suddenly vanished right out from under them while they were cruising the coast looking at get this Christmas lights along the shore. Now this was mid July, hotter and a two dollar pistol, and this Vala was talking to me about Christmas Lights Concost, I was sure of it. So I gave an old father, patner's friend and up off of them rocks and brought them to
see the good doctor duck in town, God neighbor. Their boat was called the witchcraft we, believe it or not, spooking fucking name for a boat. If you asked me why, I like to imagine black sails and all that, but I'll never know. The boat never turned. Then came to the others, screams the likes of which I never had written through my sleep so violently I thought they were my own demons catching off with me. We were travelers,
usually one or two at a time. To orienter panic, I began to wonder how this many boats going aground on my rocks. What is it about this place that just choose them up and digests them all? Shoot all, I wonder. What's a quiet place to find my calling, to figure out what I was here on earth to do. Well, every time I lifted a pen to start right in the next great American novel, Lord Have You, they would
turn up down there on the rocks. It wasn't until the crew the Merry Celeste turned up that my suspicions were confirmed. Oh, the crew of the Merry Celeste weren't survivors per se, nor they've been lost at sea for a long, long time. Their flesh, they had been picked at by fiddler crabs. If eyeballs turned a white grape jelly, exposed bones, washed and bleached, scrubbed clean by the salt of the sea. Of course they were dead. Seven crew members.
They kept it and his wife and infant child. So what was I supposed to see, to do when they pulled themselves up on those rocks right out of the ocean and staggered tards me, all confused and desperate. They were nothing but a tattered group of order like corpses who thought all was lost until they saw my light, the beam from my lighthouse up Deacon, to draw them towards another chance, a hot meal, a swallow for their baby. I brought them here and I realized why. Had brought
them all here, not just this group. While all of them father paid his body down. Every single other man and woman had washed up on those rocks. I brought them. They'd come to my light room me. They had another chance. As you understand why I'm surprised to see you here like this. Then not many people make it out this way alive, so I ain't gonna ask you again. Are you sure you remember how you got here? Absolutely positive. It was on the road, Y, if you say so.
Maybe you're just searching for your purpless tool, like I was. Mine on me. I found it years ago. I keep the light going, reaching out across the ways, a siren call for damned souls, and they come. Ever since the light has been on, they calmed by, greet them with open arms and give them a new home mind the welcoming committee for the dead, and to every one of them I give the same greeting. Welcome home to die our book. That's an incredible story. Yeah, it's a way
to pass the time. At least say this one. Here. She was different, she was living and breathing. Where aren't you girl? Papa, I wanted to check in with you. I am going away for a while, away, m HM, yes, away, yeah, yea, I'll believe it when I see it. Last time didn't exactly take did it just be? Well, no, I'll be what I am. She really does savored judge barrel, doesn't she? She does. Goodbye, Papa, good bye girl, and goodbye girl George Barrow. We saw George Barrow's grave earlier. The name
was familiar to me. Do I know him? Tell me quiet you. Oh, fine, I'll tell you on the way to the gathering. The Hours upon us come tomorrow, on thirteen days of Halloween, everything returns to the sea. I have questions, of course you do. What is the gathering and it and who is George Barrow? It's time for you to take the medicine the medicine the doctor gave you. What the medicine the doctor gave you? You still have it? Yes, then take it. I feel fine. It's for sentitive. Who
is George Barrow? Why do I know that name? If you take your medicine, I would tell you. Thirteen days of Halloween. The Lighthouse, starring Kathy and Jimmy, Bethany and Lynde and Clayton Landy. Written by Zoe Cooper with additional material by Nicholas Takowski. Sound Design and mixing by Trevor Young. Engineering by violent FERTON, dubway Studios New York and Michael
Davidson Sound Bite Studios Atlanta. Casting by Jessica Losa. Created by Matt Frederick and Alex Williams, with executive producer Aaron Manky. A production of I heart radio, grim and mild and BLUMHOUSE television.