The Stone Crescent - podcast episode cover

The Stone Crescent

Aug 12, 20216 minSeason 1Ep. 1
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Episode description

The Stone Crescent is the first horror poem story released by Tremorphonic.

This poem, influence by the style of Edgar Allan Poe and the stories of H.P. Lovecraft, follows a man's discovery of a strange set of stones and his experience upon meeting them.

Tremorphonic - The Sounds of Fear is a collection of horror audio stories, often in a radio play format.

Transcript

Welcome to Tremorphonic audio stories. Tremorphonic, the sounds of fear, is a collection of original horror  stories presented in audio format. Today's story, The Stone Crescent, was written as a product of passion and  is entirely free to listen to. Keep an eye out for upcoming Tremorphonic stories and our growing range of  ways to find and support us.

This is The Stone Crescent As I once traversed uncharted lands  I chanced upon a fateful stage, set at the foot of looming crags  a sparse expanse laying secret. As I peered over an outcropped rise before  me lay a flattened yet furtive curve, upon which stood blackened figures, seven of  stone, neatly placed as if to judge my fate. As I peered closer still I spied their unmoving  gate, each one fixed in captured motion set, yet leaping as if not touching ground,  soles lifted from their prints.

I stood and peered in closer still. Figures, humanoid I thought, danced, immobile but  lifelike, as then they looked, at once, to me. I stood, not moving, had they seen?  I froze so as to cause no stir. I stood as still as time held  them and yet they looked. I called in case my mind was wrong.  I called, not loudly but in caution, a simple word, a greeting only,  no means to be misunderstood. And with that call, a silent stare  from them to me and me to them.

I felt their piercing gaze, all  at once, it felt like burning. I knelt in disbelief and pain, I knew  this agony wasn't real, how could it be? I knelt, and doubled, as I raised my head to look, to see how staring stones could inflict  such startling agony. The field stood empty. No figures humanoid or other, no  stones of any stature to be seen as if their purpose was  fulfilled. My pain was their lot. Unless my mind in weakness bent,  unless a mirage here pretended,

is this how madness feels? Is pain my penance? As this I pondered in disbelief, I felt a chill, such that it seemed, a cold  touch of metal, no, of stone. I reeled and staggered, stunned. Hunchbacked, heavy set and broad, no head, just  sheer visage on black volcanic glass. It stood over me, limb outstretched in  offering, an offer of peace or peril?

As I cowered in shock I knew this all  must end and now. Open mouthed, I gasped and uttered but a breath as like a  clouded night I fell into darkness. I woke upon the flattened curve, no stones or  stares, no fear. Relief filled me as I spied the outcropped rise but then I saw. There I stood upon  the rise, yet here I stand looking up. I stare, I try to move and yet cannot, I feel  my feet, I feel my soul, lifted.

Six figures stand beside me, each one a  duplication of the last, six of stone and I make seven. We look, at once, to me! Thank you for listening to The Stone  Crescent presented by Tremorphonic. The Stone Crescent was written, performed, recorded and edited by Richard Wilson  with music samples from Fesliyan Studios. Don't forget to keep an eye out for our upcoming stories and our growing range  of ways to find and support us. We hope you join us again for  another Tremorphonic presentation.

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