Hey friends. Tisha here from the ISFET Archives team. I hope that you are all doing fabulous. As we mentioned in the previous episode, we are taking a short break. I know it's terrible. I miss you so much, but we are excited to return with season two in January. We already have the first episode all queued up ready to go, and if you're in our bnch here, we have the first five episodes ready to drop. We
cannot wait to jump into season two with you. In the meantime, I wanted to share another project that we are really proud of here at Creative Typo, and that is called Into the Night Anthology. We'll put a link in this episode's description for you, but this is a series of standalone episode that explore everything from eerie fiction to paranormal to sci fi. It has everything. And the cherry on top of that is that Nari, Yes Amber from isfat
Archives does the narrations. So trust me, her voice is going to whisk you away on this story and then the twists are going to bring you back for more, and you'll be like a yo yo getting whisked away by Nari's voice and then getting pulled back in by the twists and then whisked away again and pull back in and you get what I'm saying. So let's check out this episode Charcoal Drawings and we'll ride the anticipation Yo yo together hand in hand,
High excursionists. I just wanted to take a moment to say thank you. We appreciate every single one of our listeners. We do read and respond to all comments on Twitter, Facebook or YouTube, so please feel free to stop in and say hi from time to time. I want to give a special thanks to Nico Rodriguez for his rating and review on Apple Podcasts. We are so glad you enjoy our stories. This is a special two episode week.
Today's episode of course, and then on Halloween we will be airing the title episode of Into the Night. Be sure to join us to see where it all began, and don't forget bring a friend. Welcome to Endo the Night. I'm Nari, your guide on today's excursion down a twisted path. Be careful not to get lost. Be it dark or light, it's easy to lose your way. Are you ready? Then let's begin. This episode
deals with themes of supernatural horror. Listener discretion is advised. Charcoal Drawings, the pinks, purples, and golds of an early October sunrise filtered their way through the scattered clouds. Autumn was Mila Kennedy's favorite time of year, and this year was special. After dreaming of becoming an art teacher since junior high, Mila finally had a position at Highland Hills Elementary for the area. This was a plum job. How she was hired over teachers with years more experience
she didn't know, but she wasn't going to question her good fortune. It's obvious, honey, that your positive attitude and enthusiasm won them over. Her mother told her, mom, You've always been my biggest cheerleader. I just hope I'm good enough and don't let the school down. Her mother took Mala by the elbows and leaned in her, green eyes on fire with love. You listen here, You are the best teacher for this job. You've lived for this moment. Everyone loves your spunk. Now go make the world a
brighter place for those children. With her mother's pep talk in mind, Myla poured herself into the school year, teaching kindergarten through fifth grade. Art kept her on her toes, but she loved every second of her job. Each grade brought its own challenges, but she did her best to instill the fundamentals and to inspire the love for art. Children. Look at the world around you, she would say, everything you see can become art if you view
it that way. Did you see something today that you think is art? Jimmy Martin raised his hand as twenty other first graders raised theirs. Yes, Jimmy, I saw a bird this morning, a blue bird. It sat on a wooden fence. It was pretty, very good. Who else? Liza Gantry spoke next. My grandmother has a rose bush in her front yard. It's yellow. Yellow is my mom's favorite color. I'm sure it's beautiful. Liza wriggled and smiled a shy little grin, pleased that her answer was
correct. Around the class, Mila or Miss Kennedy, as her students knew her, called on each child my brother's new truck, the red barn at the Klaus's farm, my dog Pixie. Each child had a piece of real world art to talk about. Every day, Mila Kennedy asked her students to think of something they could see that they considered art. It could be as simple as the pencil on their desk, or as exotic as a peacock. After a month or so, she asked her students to picture art objects in
their minds. Close your eyes, imagine what it would look like if you drew it on a piece of sketch paper. She could tell by the expressions on their faces that her eager students visualized their art. This is what she'd always wanted. Art became a part of her student's daily lives. One day, mister Reynolds, the principal, stopped her in the hallway. I'm not sure what magic you're casting in your classes, miss Kennedy, but the students
love your room. Parents have even told me. When they're driving in the car or taking a walk, their children point out the art they see. Keep it up. Mala blushed, Thank you, mister Reynolds. I'll do my best. We're glad to have you here. With that, Reynolds, always a man on the move, strode down the hallway. His encouraging words fueled Mala to think of innovative ways to teach her young students the fundamentals of art. They'd begun the year with hands on clay sculptures. The children loved
feeling the medium in their little hands. Now she needed another engaging project. One idea had tickled her brain for a few months, and she decided that the time had come to try it Today, class, we are going to put art we see down on paper. Peter, will you pass out the charcoal pencils for me? Lydia? Will you give one sheet of sketch paper to each student? Smiling, she patiently stood at the front of the room
as the supplies were handed out. What I want you to do is close your eyes and imagine something that it is in this room that you would like to draw. Imagine it as a piece of art, just like we've been practicing. She gave the squirming students a moment to focus on what they envisioned drawing. Now, open your eyes and draw what you could see. But Miss Kennedy, yes, Hannah, we don't have any colors, just black. That's right. I want us to practice the basics first. Later this
year we will add color to our drawings. For now, we are going to work on getting the shapes down. Make sure you give your drawing a title too. We will be practicing these same drawings every day for the next two weeks, improving on the idea you come up with today. Her students loved her, so they set to work, doing their best to please her. At the end of class, a few students rushed to put the finishing
touches on their creations, as she'd taught them. When the bell rang, they carefully turned their work into their hour slot in the wooden cabinet next to Mila's desk. They placed the charcoal pencils back in the supply box. With smiles on their faces, they filed out of the room. It was the end of the day and the students hurried off to their home room. Eager to see what her students drew. Mala pulled the papers from the cabinet and
flipped through them. She was puzzled. Hmm, the children did as I asked. They gave their drawings titles. But these are all of the same thing people. But these aren't people who were in our room. One boy's drawing was entitled Gregor, a little girl's was named Janno, and another named his Bellsor. Each child's drawing was a version of either Gregor, Janno, or Belzor. Perplexed, the next day, she addressed her class. Yesterday's
students we were supposed to draw pictures of something in this room. All of you drew figures of people. You named them all the same three names. I'd asked you to draw something in this room, but we did. Miss Kennedy, Lydia looked at her with wide blue eyes. You asked us to close our eyes and draw what we saw. Peter shifted in his chair and looked around the room at his classmates for support. They all nodded in agreement. Yes, I did. We always have our friends with us, Miss
Kennedy, you do, Billy, Yes, ma'am. She stood in thought for a moment before she realized what her first graders meant. Of course, are these your imaginary friends? Peter looked to his left and whispered something to no one in particular. He paused, then nodded yes, Miss Kennedy. Gregor says, he's our imaginary friend, and he's right here next to me. He's in this room, so we can still draw him. Having imaginary friends was natural for children. Mila didn't want to dash the creativity of her
students. This world would have enough chances to destroy their imaginations, and there was no reason for it to start today. In her classroom. I did say we'd practice the same drawings for two weeks, and this is what you chose to draw, so yes, you can continue to draw them. Sighs of relief swept through the classroom. Jimmy said, Jano says thank you. Mala chuckled and said, tell Jiano he's welcome. Now for our lesson on the board, she modeled how to draw body, legs, arms, and
a head. The students went to work. Following her lead, they created new versions of their previous drawings. Each day a new aspect was practiced. At the end of the week, Mila was amazed by how much their drawings had improved. They became more detailed and less rudimentary. For being first graders, they showed a great deal of talent. She marveled at how the children's
depictions of their imaginary friends were so similar. Mala assumed they told each other so many stories about these imaginary figures that they had a common description in mind. She didn't want to brag, but the children were rapidly learning the drawing techniques she'd modeled for them. She left work on Friday feeling invigorated. Her project was coming along better than she had hoped. The air was crisp and the sky was clear. As she walked to her car, Mala pulled her
coat closed against her chest as the wind whipped past her. The crimson of the maples mixed with the golden cottonwood trees. How could an artist not love autumn? The palette of colors was laid out across the countryside, and Mila took the long way home so she could enjoy the sights a little longer. The next Monday, Mala picked up her lessons where she left off again. The children's work was better than the time before. Children. I'm so proud
of you. Your artwork is really improving and I am very impressed. Thank you, Miss Kennedy. Shouts of joy erupted in the classroom. Gregor says, he's glad you like what you see. Peter smiled and nodded at the air beside him as he passed out the charcoal pencils to his classmates. By Wednesday, however, an unusual change in the drawings took Mala by surprise. A darkness enveloped them. The details had improved yet again, but there was
an unsettling look in the eyes of Gregor Jano and Belzor. These imaginary friends looked downright well evil. Only two more days to the unit remained, and Mala looked forward to moving on to a happier project. Next week, they would create Halloween decorations for the school hallway. On Thursday, Mila's mind played tricks on her as she looked over her student's work. She could have sworn the eyes of the figures watched her. She heard someone whisper in the back
of the room. As she reached the end of the stack of drawings. She jumped, and a sound akin to laughter behind her made her turn. Of course, there was nothing there. She gathered her purse and coat, looked back into her classroom, then shut and locked the door. This project was no longer fun. Friday, of course, brought even more vivid images from the children. Nervously, she paced around the room, checking their work as they furiously drew to finish their masterpieces. Mila was eager for the week
and that project to be over. She was exhausted as she made her rounds. Was she losing her mind? Surely Jimmy's eyes didn't flicker black for an instant. No, that couldn't be. Then a deep voice behind her said, missus Kennedy, what do you think it looks real? Doesn't it? Startled? She spun around. Peter had held his picture up for her to see. She forced a smile and said, yes, it does, and it did. The bell rang, but the students didn't place their drawings in
the cabinet. Instead, they left them sitting on their tables and rushed out the door, laughing, well, I guess on Monday I will have to remind them what our end of class procedures are, she muttered to herself. As she reached to pick up the first drawing, The piercing glare of Gregor made her blood run cold. Before she could pick up the paper, a clawed black hand came out of the drawing and grasped her wrist. Greigor cackled. Mala struggled to free herself. A rush of air swept through the room
and the paper swirled into the air, spinning frantically in a blur. Gregor continued his hold on her wrist. You cannot escape my hold, Mila. Can I call you my missus Kennedy? Seems so formal? After all, we're friends, not so imaginary friends. Isn't that right, my sweet. His other clawed hand reached out and caressed her face. What's happening? This can't be real. Oh but we are real. We just need your help, two voices spoke in unison. Mala turned around to see the incarnations of
Jano and Belzar. My help, what do you mean? My help? You can't be real. We are real now, Mila. We've waited so long to be given form, and with your help here we are the children and their drawings brought us into this world. Now our work can be done. Jano's eyes sparkled. The three beings hissed hideous laughter. No, you're nothing more than imaginary friends. I'm dreaming that I see you. Gregor's razor sharp claw slid down my life forearm, and a thin stream of blood flowed.
He placed the tip of his finger in his mouth. This is all real, and I yes, you are indeed, my sweet? What are you? You're no childhood imaginary friend? Belsor took a step forward. You're a smart one, Mala Kennedy, No, we are not imaginary friends. What are you? Then? Jano and Belsor grinned and gave a nod toward Gregor, who pulled her close to him, she smelled the putrid stench of his breath and the odor of singed hair. My sweet, we are demons.
We have waited a long time for a means to cross over. We have hovered in this school for decades. The children were right. We were in this room, and you told them to draw what was in this room. You gave us our avenue to materialize in this dimension. Why don't you going to do? Why are you here? Let go of me. Mila tugged her arm, but Gregor only tightened his grip. Do we are only the first? Others will follow? My sweet, We are going to conquer
this world. In a flash, he entered her body. On Monday, it was second grade's turn to draw what was in the room. Thank you for joining me. Into the Night an anthology series written by Caroline Giamanco and narrated by Nari Quok. You can now listen to all new episodes of Into the Night on your favorite podcast directory. Be sure to subscribe so you never miss an episode, and please share with anyone you think would like to join us on our next excursion. If you like what you hear, please leave
us a five star review. It really does help. Feel free to reach out to us on Twitter at Into the Night pod, or by email at Itnanthology at gmail dot com. I'll see you in two weeks, and remember, whether in the shadows or in the daylight, all twisted paths take you into the night.