It's time for Tuesday Terror here on the Mutual Audio Network. Be sure to leave the lights on while you listen. The following audio drama is rated PG-13, suggesting that all children under the age of 13 should listen accompanied with an adult. The Red Room By H. G. Wells.
the red room by h g wells i can assure you said i that it would take a very tangible ghost to frighten me and i stood up before the fire with my glass in my hand it is your own choosing said the man with the withered arm and glanced at me eight and twenty years said i i have lived and never a ghost have i seen as yet the old woman sat staring hard into the fire her pale eyes wide open i she broke in
in eight and twenty years you have lived and never seen the likes of this house i reckon there's a many things to see when one's still but eight and twenty she swayed her head slowly from side to side are many things to see the sorrow for i half suspected the old people were trying to enhance the spiritual terrors of their house by their droning insistence
i put down my empty glass on the table and looked about the room and caught a glimpse of myself abbreviated and broadened to an impossible sturdiness and the queer old mirror at the end of the room well i said if i see anything to-night i shall be so much the wiser for i come to the business with an open mind it is your own choosing said the man with the withered arm once more
i heard the sound of a stick and a shambling step on the flags in the passage outside and the door creaked on its engines as a second old man entered more bent more wrinkled more aged even than the first he supported himself by a single crutch his eyes were covered by shade and his lower lip half averted hung pale and pink from his decaying yellow teeth
he made straight for an armchair on the opposite side of the table sat down clumsily and began to cough the man with the withered arm gave this newcomer a short glance of positive dislike the old woman took no notice of his arrival but remained with her eyes fixed steadily on the fire i said it's your own choosing said the man with the withered arm when the coughing had ceased for a while it's my own choosing i answered
the man with the shade became aware of my presence for the first time and threw his head back for a moment and sideways to see me i caught a momentary glimpse of his eyes small and bright and inflamed then he began to cough and splutter again
why don't you drink said the man with the wetted arm pushing the bear towards him the man with the shade poured out a glassful with a shaky arm that splashed half as much again on the deal table a monstrous shadow had approached upon the wall and mocked his actions as he poured and drank
i must confess i had scarce expected these grotesque custodians there is to my mind something inhuman in senility something crouching and atravistic the human qualities seem to drop from old people insensibly day by day the three of them made me feel uncomfortable with their gaunt silences their bent carriage their evident unfriendliness to me and to one another if said i
you will show me to this hunted room of yours i will make myself comfortable there the old man with a cough jerked his head back so suddenly that it startled me and shot another glance of his red eyes at me from under the shade but no one answered me i waited a minute glancing from one to the other if i said a little louder if you will show me to this haunted room of yours i will relieve you from the task of entertaining me
there is a candle on the slab outside the door said the man with the withered arm looking at my feet as he addressed me but if you are going to the red room to-night this night of all nights said the old woman you go alone very well i answered and which way do i go you go along the passage for a bit said he until you come to a door and through that is the spiral staircase and half-way up that is a landing and another door covered with baies
go through that and down the long corridor to the end and the red room is on your left up the steps have i got that right i said and repeated his directions he corrected me in one particular and are you really going said the man with the shade looking at me again for the third time with that queer and natural tilting of the face this night of all nights said the old woman
it is what i came for i said and moved towards the door as i did so the old man with the shade rose and staggered round the table so as to be closer to the others and to the fire at the door i turned and looked at them and saw they were all close together dark against the firelight staring at me over their shoulders with an intent expression on their ancient faces
good night i said setting the door open it is your own choosing said the man with the withered arm i left the door wide open until the candle was well alight and then i shut them in and walked down a chilly echoing passage I must confess that the oddness
of these three old pensioners in whose charge her ladyship had left the castle and the deep-toned old-fashioned furniture of the housekeeper's room in which they foregathered affected me in spite of my efforts to keep myself at a matter-of-fact face
they seemed to belong to another age an older age an age when things spiritual were different from this of ours less certain an age when omens and witches were credible and ghosts beyond denying their very existence was spectral the cut of their clothing fashions born in dead brains
the ornaments and conveniences of the rooms about them were ghostly the thoughts of vanished men which still hunted rather than participated in the world of to-day but with an effort i sent such thoughts to the right about the long druddy subterranean passage was chilly and dusty and my candle flared and made the shadows cower and quiver the echoes rang up and down the spiral staircase and a shadow came sweeping up after me
and one fled before me into the darkness overhead i came to the landing and stopped there for a moment listening to a rustling that i fancy i'd heard Then satisfied of the absolute silence, I pushed open the bay's covered door and stood in the corridor.
the effect was scarcely what i expected for the moonlight coming in by the great window on the grand staircase picked out everything in vivid black shadow or silvery illumination everything was in its place the house might have been deserted only yesterday instead of eighteen months ago
there were candles in the sockets of the sconces and whatever dust had gathered on the carpets or upon the polished flooring was distributed so evenly as to be invisible in the moonlight i was about to advance and stopped abruptly a bronze group stood upon the landing hidden from me by the corner of the wall but its shadow fell with marvelous distinctness upon the white paneling and gave me the impression of some one crouching to waylay me i stared rigid for half a minute perhaps
then with my hand in the pocket that held my revolver i advanced only to discover that it guaranteed an eagle glistening in the moonlight that incident for a time restored my nerves and a porcelain chinaman on the bull table whose head rocked silently as i passed them scarcely startled me the door to the right room and the steps up to it were in a shadowy corner
i moved my candle from side to side in order to see clearly the nature of the recess in which i stood before opening the door here it was thought i that my predecessor was found and the memory of that story gave me a sudden twinge of apprehension i glanced over my shoulder at the gamutade in the moonlight and opened the door of the red room rather hastily with my face half turned to the pallid silence of the landing
i entered closed the door behind me at once turned the key i found in the lock within and stood with the candle held aloft surveying the scene of my vigil the great red room of lorien castle in which the young duke had died or rather in which he had begun his dying for he had opened the door and fallen headlong down the steps i had just ascended
that had been the end of his vigil of his gallant attempt to conquer the ghostly tradition of the place and never i thought had a perplexity but to serve the ends of superstition and there were other and older stories that clung to the room back to the half-credible beginning of it all the tale of a timid wife and the tragic end that came to her husband's jest of frightening her and looking around that large shattery room with its shattery window-bays its recesses and alcoves one could well
understand the legends that had sprouted in its black corners its germinating darkness my candle was a little tongue of flame in its vastness that failed to pierce the opposite end of the room and left an ocean of mystery and suggestion beyond its island of light i resolved to make a systematic examination of the place at once and dispelled the fanciful suggestions of its obscurity before they obtained a hold upon me
after satisfying myself of the fastening of the door i began to walk about the room peering round each article of furniture tucking up the valances of the bed and opening its curtains wide i pulled up the blinds and examined the fastenings of the several windows before closing the shutters leant forward and looked up at the blackness of the wide chimney and tapped the dock overpaneling for any secret opening
there were two big mirrors in the room each with a pair of sconces bearing candles and on the mantel-shift too were more candles and china candlesticks and these i lit one after the other the fire was laid an unexpected consideration from the old housekeeper and i let it to keep down any disposition to shiver and when it was burning well i stood round with my back to it and regarded the room again
i had pulled up a chintz-covered armchair and a table to form a kind of barricade before me and on this i lay my revolver ready to hand my precise examination had done me good but i still found the remoter darkness of the place and its perfect stillness too stimulating for the imagination
the echoing of the stir and the crackling on the fire was no sort of comfort to me the shadow in the alcove at the inn in particular had that undefinable quality of a presence that odd suggestion of a lurking living thing that comes so easily in silence and solitude at last to reassure myself i walked with a candle into it and satisfied myself that there was nothing tangible there
i stood that candle upon the floor of the alcove and left it in that position by this time i was in a state of considerable nervous tension although to my reason there was no adequate cause for the condition my mind however was perfectly clear i postulated quite unreversely that nothing supernatural could happen and to pass the time i began to string some rhymes together in goes-by fashion of the original legend of the place a few i spoke aloud
but the echoes were not pleasant for the same reason i also abandoned after a time a conversation with myself upon the impossibility of ghosts and hunting my mind reverted to the three old and distorted people downstairs and i tried to keep it upon that topic the sombre reds and blacks of the room troubled me even with the seven candles the place was merely dim
the one in the alcove fled in a draught and the fire flickering kept the shadows and penumbra perpetually shifting and stirring casting about for a remedy i recalled the candles i had seen in the passage and with a slight effort walked out into the moonlight carrying a candle and leaving the door open and presently returned with as many as ten
these i put in various knick-knacks of china with which the room was sparsely adorned lit in place where the shadows had lain deepest some on the floor some in the window recesses until at last my seventy candles were so arranged that not an inch of the room but had the direct light of at least one of them it occurred to me that when the ghosts came i could warn him not to trip over them
the room was now quite brightly illuminated there was something very cheery and reassuring in these little streaming flames and snuffing them gave me an occupation and afforded a reassuring sense of the passage of time even with that however the brooding expectation of the vigil weighed heavily upon me
it was after midnight that the candle in the alcove suddenly went out and the black shadow springs back in its place i did not see the candle go out i simply turned and saw the darkness was there as one might start and see the expecting presence of a stranger by jove i said aloud that brought a strong one and taking the matches from the table i walked across the room in a leisurely manner to relight the corner again
my first match would not strike and as i succeeded with the second something seemed to blink on the wall before me i turned my head involuntarily and saw the two candles on the little table by the fireplace were extinguished i rose at once to my feet. Odd I said.
did i do that myself in a flash of absent mightiness i walked back relit one and as i did so i saw the candle on the right sconce of one of the mirrors wink and go right out and almost immediately his companion followed it there was no mistake about it the flame vanished as if the wicks had been suddenly nipped between a finger and a thumb leaving the wick neither glowing nor smoking but black while i stood gaping
the candle at the foot of the bed went out and the shadow seemed to take another step towards me this won't do i said i and first one then another candle on the mantel shaft followed what's up i cried with a queer high note getting into my voice somehow at that the candle in the wardrobe went out and the one i had relit in the alcove followed steady on i said these candles are wanted
speaking with a half hysterical facelessness and scratching away at a match the wild for the mantu candlesticks my hands trembled so that twice i missed the rough paper of the match-box as the mantu emerged from darkness again Two candles at a remote's end of the window were eclipsed.
but with the same match i also relit the larger mirror candles and those on the floor near the doorway so that for the moment i seemed to gain on the extinctions but then in a volley there vanished four lights at once in different corners of the room and i struck another match in quivering haste and stood hesitating whether to take it.
as i stood undecided an invisible hand seemed to sweep out the two candles on the table with a cry of terror i dashed at the alcove then into the corner then into the window relighting three as two more vanished by the fireplace perceiving her better way i dropped the matches on the iron-bound deed-box in the corner and caught up the bedroom candlestick
with this i avoided the delay of striking matches but for all that steady process of extinction went on and the shadows i feared and fought against returned and crept in upon me first a step gained on this side of me and then on that it was like a ragged storm cloud sweeping out the stars now and then one returned for a minute and was lost again i was now almost frantic with the horror of coming darkness and my self-possession deserted me
i leapt panting and disheveled from candle to candle in a vain struggle against that remorseless advance i bruised myself on the thigh against the table i sent a chair headlong i stumbled and fell and whisked a cloth from the table in my fall my candle rolled away from me and i snatched another as i rose abruptly this was blown out as i swung it off the table by the wind of my sudden movement
and immediately the two remaining candles followed but there was light still in the room a red light that starved off the shadows from me the fire of course i could thrust my candle between the bars and relight it i turned to where the flames were dancing between the glowing coals and splashing red reflections upon the furniture made two steps towards the grate and incontinently the flames dwindled and vanished the glow vanished the reflections rushed together
vanished, and as I thrust a candle between the bars, darkness closed upon me like the shutting of an eye, wrapped about me in a stifling embrace, sealed my vision, and crushed the last vestiges of reason from my brain.
the candle fell for my hand i flung out my arms in a vain effort to thrust that ponderous blackness away from me and lifting my voice screamed with all my might once twice thrice then i think i must have staggered to my feet i know i thought suddenly of the moonlit corridor and with my head bowed and my arms over my face made a run for the door
but i had forgotten the exact position of the door and struck myself heavily against the corner of the bed i staggered back turned it was either struck or struck myself against some other bulky furniture i have a vague memory of battering myself to and fro in the darkness of a cramped struggle and of my own wild crying as i darted to and fro
of a heavy blow at last upon my forehead a horrible sensation of falling that lasted an age of my last frantic effort to keep my footing and then i remember no more i opened my eyes in daylight my head was roughly bandaged and a man with a withered arm was watching my face i looked about me trying to remember what had happened and for space i could not recollect
i turned to the corner and saw the old woman no longer abstracted pouring out some drops of medicine from a blue phial into a glass where am i i asked i seem to remember you and yet i cannot remember who you are they told me then and i heard of the hunted red room as one who hears a tale we found you at dawn said he and there was blood on your forehead and lips it was very slowly i recovered my memory of my experience you believe now said the old man that the room is haunted he spoke no longer
as one who greets an intruder but as one who grieves for a broken friend yes said i the room is haunted and you have seen it and we who have lived here all our lives have never set eyes upon it because we have never dared tell us is it truly the old earl who no said i it is not i told you so said the old lady with the glass in her hand it is this poor young countess who is frightened it is not i said there is neither ghost of earl nor ghost of countess in that room
there is no ghost there at all but worse far worse well they said the worst of all things that hunt poor mortal man said i and that is in all its nakedness fear fear that will not have light or sound that will not bear with reason that deafens and darkens and overwhelms it followed me through the corridor it fought against me in the room i stopped abruptly there was an interval of silence my hand went up to my bandages then the man with the shade sighed and spoke
that is it said he i knew that was it a power of darkness to put such a curse upon a woman it looks there always you can feel it even in the daytime even of a bright summer's day in the hangings in the curtains keeping behind you however you face about in the dusk it creeps along the corridor and follows you so that you dare not turn there is fear in that room of hers black fear and there will be so long as this house of sin endures end of the right room by h g wells
Thank you for listening to Tuesday Terror right here on the Mutual Audio Network. Please consider subscribing to other Days of the Mutual Feeds, including Monday Matinee for classic live and theatrical audio plays. Wednesday Wonders, our science fiction and fantasy magazine. Thursday thrillers for action, adventure, mystery, and crime drama. Friday Follies, our end-of-the-week comedy series. The Saturday story circle for kids and family alike.
And Sunday Showcase, bringing you the very newest in audio releases for the week from our United Artists of Audio right here on the Mutual Audio Network. The Mutual Audio Network. Listening and imagining together.