POE: The Pit And The Pendulum (2021)

Summary

Full Body Chills: Episode Summary - "POE: The Pit And The Pendulum (2021)"

Podcast Information:

• Title: Full Body Chills
• Host/Author: audiochuck
• Description: Season 6/6/6 is a terrifying anthology of 18 frightful tales split into three chapters, featuring over 100 nightmares. Listeners are encouraged to submit their own stories for inclusion.
• Episode: POE: The Pit And The Pendulum (2021)
• Release Date: December 3, 2024

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Introduction

In this gripping episode, Full Body Chills presents a chilling adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe's classic tale, "The Pit and the Pendulum." Narrated with intense dramatization, the story immerses listeners into a harrowing experience of psychological and physical torment within a sinister dungeon. The episode masterfully blends atmospheric narration, character-driven monologues, and moments of despair to evoke a profound sense of fear and suspense.

Narrative Overview

[01:37] Opening Narration: The episode begins with a reflective narration on the inexorable passage of time, setting a somber and tense mood. The narrator personifies time as a relentless entity that eventually leads to an inescapable end.

[02:26] Adaptation of Poe: The story transitions into a first-person account of a victim entangled in the gruesome mechanisms of torture. The main character recounts their experience of being sentenced to death by a group of merciless judges embodying cruelty and oppression.

Key Scenes and Discussions

Imprisonment and Initial Torment

[02:35 - 04:48] The Trial and Sentence: The protagonist describes the aftermath of a cruel trial where judges pronounce death sentences amidst an atmosphere of pain and sleep deprivation. The surreal imagery of black-clad judges and candlelight resembling angels introduces an eerie juxtaposition between hope and despair.

• Notable Quote:

  "I felt my senses were leaving me. But then came the words. The words of my death sentence."
  — Main Character [02:35]

Loss of Consciousness and Realization

[04:48 - 08:56] Descent into Darkness: After losing consciousness, the protagonist grapples with the fear of death and the unknown. The description of a damp, dark dungeon with acute sensory perceptions heightens the sense of entrapment. The arrival of a loaf of bread and water initially provides relief but soon reveals deeper layers of psychological torment.

• Notable Quote:

  "In this story, every instant counts towards savings as life swings between the pit and the pendulum."
  — Narrator [01:37]

Encounter with the Pendulum

[09:26 - 16:00] The Pendulum's Approach: The narrative intensifies as the pendulum, a deadly blade suspended above, begins its descent. The protagonist's detailed observations and frantic attempts to survive against the mechanical horror underscore the relentless nature of their punishment.

• Notable Quote:

  "I knew I had to do something. I had to move."
  — Main Character [08:56]

Desperation and Tactical Escape

[16:00 - 22:35] Struggle Against the Torment: Facing the imminent threat of the pendulum, the protagonist employs desperate tactics to divert the attention of ravenous rats by spreading spiced meat over their bandages. This clever maneuver momentarily confuses the rats, allowing a narrow window for escape.

• Notable Quote:

  "I had to think of something else."
  — Main Character [22:32]

Climactic Rescue

[25:00 - 27:50] Final Struggle and Rescue: As the walls of the dungeon shift towards the pit, the protagonist faces the ultimate choice between escalating torment and unknown depths. In a climactic moment of sheer terror, explosive sounds and unexpected voices signal an abrupt rescue by a Navy SEAL, who saves the protagonist from certain death.

• Notable Quote:

  "I made my choice. The cold of the rat-infected well had to be better than being burned alive against metal."
  — Main Character [27:12]

Insights and Themes

This adaptation delves deep into themes of fear, survival, and the psychological impact of prolonged torture. The relentless depiction of the protagonist's struggle against both physical constraints and mental anguish underscores the enduring human spirit in the face of unimaginable horror. The episode also explores the illusion of hope and the thin line between consciousness and unconsciousness, leaving listeners contemplating the nature of existence and resilience.

Concluding Moments

[29:51 - 30:02] Author’s Note: The episode concludes with a brief acknowledgment from Edgar Allan Poe, noting that this adaptation is an Audio Chuck Original read by Ashley Flowers. This final touch bridges the classic literary work with contemporary audio storytelling, providing a satisfying closure to the intense journey.

Notable Quotes Summary

• On Sentencing and Despair:

  "Their faces looked surreal, distorted, their lips as white as the sheet of paper on which I handwrite this account."
  — Main Character [02:35]

• On Consciousness and Afterlife:

  "Regaining consciousness is like waking from a dream you don't remember."
  — Main Character [04:53]

• On the Pendulum's Horror:

  "Its horror, its slow means of death, would be worse than one could imagine."
  — Main Character [16:00]

• On Desperate Hope:

  "Hope that made me quiver, that made my body recoil. The hope that all victims of torture must feel in fleeting moments."
  — Main Character [21:02]

Conclusion

"POE: The Pit And The Pendulum (2021)" is a masterfully crafted episode of Full Body Chills that brings Edgar Allan Poe's macabre tale to life through immersive narration and vivid storytelling. The episode effectively captures the essence of fear and the human struggle for survival, making it a standout installment in the anthology. Whether you're a fan of classic horror literature or contemporary thriller adaptations, this episode promises a spine-tingling experience that resonates long after the final moment.

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Note: For those inspired to share their own spine-chilling tales, Full Body Chills encourages listeners to submit their stories via their website.

Transcript

[Sponsor Voice]

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[Narrator]

Seconds, minutes, hours. The currency of our lives. Every day we're given our allowance, and every day we wrestle with the clock, a three handed robber whose furious avarice knows no sleep. We scrape by for the most part, but there will come a day when we can't pay, when our last few moments are ripped away, when the thug named Time shakes us down and his bleeding scythe comes around. In this story, every instant counts towards savings as life swings between the pit and the pendulum.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

The Pit in the Pendulum by Edgar Allan Poe Adapted by Jake Weber 2021.

[Main Character]

Here the Wicked mob cherished hatred and spilled innocent blood. The country has been saved and this cave of death has been demolished. Where once lived cruelty, there is now life and liberty. When they finally untied me and I could sit, it was such a relief. I felt my senses were leaving me. But then came the words. The words of my death sentence. And after that, all I could hear was a humming in my ears like the whirring of a fan. My judges were dressed all in black, and through my pain and sleep deprivation, their faces looked surreal, distorted, their lips as white as the sheet of paper on which I handwrite this account. Of those terrible days. The days I was tortured. One after the other, I watched as the merciless dark eyed judges mouthed the word death. Their lips drawn thin behind scraggly beards. But after the first judge, all I could hear was that hum in my ears. I remember the curtains were heavy and made of the soft fur of some animal. And there were candles on the table. I had been delirious with pain. They had kept me in stress positions so long I was having a hard time processing my surroundings. Candles looked like angels to me. White, tall and slim. Their flames undulating, dancing. Were they angels come to save me?

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Would anyone save me?

[Main Character]

Then, like an electric shock, a realization. There were no angels in the room. Only my tormentors. And that no one would come for me. I would die soon. There was relief in that. I could rest. I could sleep at last, peace. Anything was better than the pain and the sleep deprivation. In that moment, I welcomed death. Then the judges faces vanished, as did the candles and the drapes. And there was only blackness.

[Voice of Despair]

Silence.

[Main Character]

Stillness.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Was I dead?

[Main Character]

Had I been executed? Obviously I didn't die, but I did lose consciousness. And I wonder if that is what death is like. Regaining consciousness is like waking from a dream you don't remember. It comes in stages. The first is mental, a spiritual reentering. Then the body follows and we are again sentient. If we could remember the experience and separate the spiritual and the physical, what might we learn about what lies beyond the grave? I believe in an afterlife. And I believe there's a spiritual realm beyond consciousness. But it is only in fleeting moments that I can conjure up the memory of that unconscious state. Was I unconscious? Or did it just seem so? Was I in a fugue state, drifting in and out of the present? I seem to remember tall figures lifting me and carrying me down steps, down, down to who knows where. After what felt like a long time, the men stopped moving and lowered me onto a flat, damp surface. The sensation of floating, of being suspended in air, was replaced by the shock of cold cement. And with that, my hearing became acute. I heard the loud thumping of my heart, the heavy breathing of men. I was aware now brought back into full consciousness. With comprehension came dread. But I knew I had to do something. I had to move. The memory of the trial, the judges, the soft fur drapes, all came flooding back. I was on my back where they had placed me. My hands were loose, they hadn't been tied again. And I reached out onto the cold, damp ground. I tried to imagine where I might be, but I didn't Dare open my eyes. I was terrified of what I might see and what I might not. When I did open them, what I saw was nothing, just blackness all around. I had no more vision with my eyes open than I had with them closed. I was engulfed in darkness, in thick, humid air that was stifling. I was struggling for a full breath, my heart palpitating. I kept still, tried not to panic, tried to think logically. Keep it together, girl. Stay calm. It felt like a long time had passed since I had lost consciousness, but I couldn't be sure. Could it have been hours? I knew I was alive, although I had been sentenced to death. Another captive had been sentenced to death earlier that day and was executed immediately. Was I being kept in this dungeon.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Until it was my turn?

[Main Character]

For how long?

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Weeks? Months?

[Main Character]

It made no sense.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

They were seizing victims for public executions. To instill fear and command loyalty, to force a populace to convert to their ideology and submit to their will. Why would they be holding on to me?

[Main Character]

I must have passed out again.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

When I came to and got to.

[Main Character]

My feet, my whole body was trembling.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

I reached around and above, but I could feel nothing.

[Main Character]

I knew I would have to move, but dreaded it in case I would.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Find I had been entombed down here.

[Main Character]

It was hot in the dense humidity. I was drenched in sweat. I took a few tentative steps, my eyes straining into the darkness, searching for a glimmer of light so I could get a sense of my surroundings.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

As I moved blindly about, I was.

[Main Character]

Relieved to find I was not completely encased. That, at least, was good news. I was not going to suffocate in the confines of a small space.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Would I starve to death?

[Main Character]

Was there worse than that in store? I had heard stories of the most unbearable cruelty from this group. Means of torture that seem unfathomable this day and age, which they use to brutally conquer and control territory and enslave people. I knew I was going to die, but when and how was the question. My outstretched hands hit something. A stone wall, smooth, slimy and cold.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Following it would not reveal the dimensions.

[Main Character]

Of my dungeon because I had no way of knowing where I started.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

I had had a pen knife with.

[Main Character]

Me when I was captured, and reflexively I reached for it, but my clothes were gone.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

They had undressed me and put me.

[Main Character]

In a rough burlap smock. My thought had been to wedge the small knife into a seam in the masonry so I could have a starting and end point and know more about the dimensions of my cell.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Instead, I tore off the hem of My frock and laid it on the.

[Main Character]

Floor at a right angle to the wall and started my way around. I was barefoot and the ground was moist and slippery, and I was so tired. After a while I slipped and fell. Then I gave in to exhaustion and let myself sleep where I lay. When I woke up, I found a loaf of bread and a pitcher of water beside me. I was hungry and thirsty, and I gobbled the bread and gulped the water. I felt stronger now and made my way around the cell until I came across the rag I had left on the ground. Before I had fallen asleep, I had counted 52 paces, and there were 48 after that. Assuming two paces to the yard. The dungeon was about 50 yards in circumference. But I had little sense of the shape of the vault because I had hit angles on my way. I would need to explore beyond the security of the wall. I started across the enclosure, moving carefully because the floor was treacherous with slime. I had gone about 10 or 12 paces when the torn hem of my robe caught under my feet and I fell face forward, landing hard on the ground. My chin was on the wet floor, but my lips and the rest of my face and head were not and were lower than the rest of my body. There was a smell of decaying matter, fungal and pungent. I reached out my arm and realized I had fallen at the brink of a circular pit.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

I could not know how deep it.

[Main Character]

Was because I was effectively blind.

[Voice of Despair]

At the lip of the crater, I.

[Main Character]

Dislodged a stone and let it fall. For several seconds. It careened off the walls of the pit and was then swallowed by the water with a splash that echoed. At that moment, I heard a door opening and a light flashed through the.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Gloom of the vault For a split.

[Main Character]

Second before the door closed again. I could see around. Another step and it would have been the end. It would have been the death of me. I had heard of places like this.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

These tyrants selected you for death by either the most painful means possible or sentenced you to die publicly in the most humiliating circumstance.

[Main Character]

It seemed I had been sentenced to the former. I groped my way back to the wall.

[Voice of Despair]

I would die there.

[Main Character]

Rather than the terrors of the well, the death in that pit would be slow and painful. Fear kept me awake for what must have been hours. But eventually I fell asleep again. When I woke, as before, there was bread and water beside me. I was desperately thirsty, but I couldn't quench my thirst no matter how much I drank. When I downed the last drop, I became drowsy.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

I had been drugged, the water had.

[Main Character]

Been spiked, and I passed out again.

[Voice of Despair]

I have no idea how long I.

[Main Character]

Was out, but when I came to, I could see again. A surreal, silverous light revealed my prison. I had been completely off on the dimensions.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

The cell was half the size I thought it was. I had to know where I'd gone.

[Main Character]

Wrong in my calculations.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

At the point at which I fell, I had only been a few feet.

[Voice of Despair]

From the strip of burlap when I woke.

[Main Character]

I had mistakenly gone back the way I came.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

And so doubled in my head the.

[Main Character]

Circumference of the prison, I hadn't the.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Acuity to realize I had started with the wall on my left and ended with the wall on my right.

[Main Character]

I had also got the shape of the place all wrong.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

I had thought because of the irregular angles, the cell was asymmetrical, when in fact, those irregularities in the wall were minor variations in what was essentially a square cell.

[Voice of Despair]

What I had thought was stone was.

[Main Character]

In fact iron or some other metal.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

In huge plates whose joints accounted for the irregularities that I thought was where bricks met mortar.

[Main Character]

The walls were painted, painted with crude renditions of weapons of torture operated by men. The frescoes faded and blurred by the dampness of the atmosphere in the center of the stone floor. There it was, the circular pit, the jaws of which I had almost fallen into. There was just the one in the room I had to strain to see because I was on my back, strapped.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

To a framework made from wood.

[Main Character]

My entire body was wrapped in what appeared to be thick bandages.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Only my head was free and part.

[Main Character]

Of my left arm just enough to.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Reach a bowl of food, which I.

[Main Character]

Took to my mouth. It was too late before I realized there was no water and my mouth burned from the heavily spiced food. I looked at the ceiling, which was constructed of the same metal ore as the walls and rose 30 or 40ft above me. Painted there was the Grim Reaper, but not as he's usually depicted.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Instead of a scythe, this Father Time carried what looked like a pendulum, the kind you would find in a grandfather clock. Did it just come to life?

[Voice of Despair]

I was sure I saw it move.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Morph from two to three dimensional.

[Main Character]

Was there something in the food causing me to hallucinate?

[Edgar Allan Poe]

There was a sound to my right. I snapped my head in its direction. Up from the well came a horde of rats with red, ravenous eyes, apparently drawn by the scent of the meat. For the next half hour, maybe an hour, time was difficult to gauge. I did my best to keep them off me. With my one free hand, Screaming, all.

[Voice of Despair]

The while growing hoarse.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

When I raised my eyes to the ceiling again, what I had thought in.

[Main Character]

The opaque lighting had been a fresco.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Was in fact a mechanical device, behind.

[Main Character]

Which lay the painted image of Father Time.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

The sweep of the pendulum had increased by nearly a yard, and so had its speed.

[Main Character]

It was descending towards my body.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

And I saw now that the bottom of the pendulum was a crescent of glittering steel about a foot in length.

[Main Character]

And sharp as a razor, hissing as it swung through the air. I knew now how I was meant to die. I had heard rumors of this contraption. No one had lived to tell the tale. But here it was. And here was I. Its horror, its slow means of death, would be worse than one could imagine. I had avoided falling into that pit by pure chance, by blind luck. In these torture chambers, these death dungeons.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Unexpected terror is what the sadistic jailers.

[Main Character]

Enjoy in their work.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

You were a toy for them to play with.

[Main Character]

They were not about to just hurl me into the abyss of the well.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

No, the menu here was varied. Just when you think you have escaped.

[Main Character]

A particular torment, another awaits. I wonder if you need to hear this, what the point is of reliving.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

The horror of those hours upon hours as I lay there and watched and counted as the vibrating steel passed over my body, descending fractionally inch by inch until it was close enough. I could smell the steel.

[Main Character]

I prayed.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

It was all I could do. I prayed for the blade to drop faster. I prayed for a speedier death than.

[Main Character]

The one I was due.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

I tried to stretch my body towards it, anything to speed up the process.

[Main Character]

But I was helpless. All I could do was wait, pray and wait. I became calm for a period and lay smiling at the incoming blade, like a child mesmerized by a toy. I believe I passed out again, briefly.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

When I regained consciousness, I saw the pendulum had not moved. They were watching me and controlling the descent of the blade. I was to be aware of every horrifying moment of the filleting of my body.

[Main Character]

I was hungry now. Even in this state, the body needs what it needs.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

I reached for the bowl for what might have been left me by the rats.

[Main Character]

As I took a remnant to my mouth, a thought not fully form occurred to me, and with it an inkling of hope.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

But I couldn't hold on to it.

[Main Character]

The fleeting thought with its promise of relief, vanished.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

The pendulum was swinging across my body, its path directly across my heart. Before it got there, it would fray.

[Main Character]

And then sever the bandages that bound me.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

It was now swinging in a 30 foot arc above my torso with such velocity that it could have cut through the walls of my cell. When it finally reached me, it would be taken up with the thick bandages that covered my chest.

[Voice of Despair]

I was aware of the coarseness of.

[Main Character]

My robe and anticipated the tingling sensation of the scratchy fabric against my skin.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

When the blade reached it. As the blade made its measured way.

[Main Character]

Towards me, I became frenzied.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

I traced its downward and lateral movements as it stalked my heart, screamed. I laughed. I howled as it vibrated within inches of my bosom. Manic now, I struggled to free my arm. But even if I had managed to get it loose, what could I have done? I was as powerless to stop the descent of that blade as I would have been in stopping an avalanche. I gasped and shrunk in convulsive terror at each sweep, my eyes following every inch of its arc. Death would have been a relief. This was unbearable, each sink of the blade coming closer and closer to slicing into my breast.

[Main Character]

It was hope. Hope that made me quiver, that made my body recoil. The hope that all victims of torture must feel in fleeting moments. You'll be okay. You're strong. You can get through this. You'll survive. 10 or 12 more passes and the steel would meet my robe. A calmness again washed over me, a despair of sorts. I was no longer frenzied or manic. It occurred to me that the bandages that secured me were not bound by.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

A separate cord, meaning, once the blade passed over them, I would be able.

[Main Character]

To pull at them with my left hand.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

But that blade would be perilously close, and the slightest movement could be deadly.

[Main Character]

And what about the man operating the device?

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Hadn't they taken into consideration what I was thinking? Weren't they watching at all? Just waiting for the precise moment when their device would slice open my skin? How would I escape right under their very noses?

[Main Character]

Was there even a bandage over my bosom?

[Edgar Allan Poe]

I lifted my head to look.

[Main Character]

I was bandaged everywhere except in the.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Path of the blade, whose trajectory would.

[Main Character]

Pass right across my heart. My torturers had thought this through, had.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Placed me exactly right.

[Main Character]

I had to think of something else.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

I was running out of time. I flashed back to the moment I had that inkling of an idea, only to have it vanished. It was when I had brought that morsel of meat to my lips. It was a long shot, but there was an idea there. For hours now, the area around me had been swarming with wrath. Their greedy, hungry eyes watching, waiting for my body to be still enough for them to feast on me. They had already gotten at all but a morsel of the meat from the bowl. My free hand had been passing over that in a see saw motion to keep them away. But after a while, the regularity of the motion became less and less of a deterrent, and they sank their sharp teeth into my fingers.

[Main Character]

I had a plan now.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

I rubbed what was left of the meat over the bandages, wherever I could reach. When I was done, I took my hand from the bowl, dropped it by my side, and waited as still as possible. The change in the motion confused the rats, and some of them shrank back down the well, only to return seconds later. A few of the boldest jumped up on the wood frame and sniffed at the bandages, and this sent a signal to the rest. Soon the frame was swarmed, more and more of them coming up now from the well, hanging off the frame, Hundreds of them, climbing over my body, navigating to avoid the pendulum blade, busying themselves with the bandages that smelled of spiced meat.

[Main Character]

They were heaped on me now, writhing against my throat, their whiskers scraping my face, tails dragging across my mouth, cold lips touching mine, their acrid, rancid smell filling my nostrils. I felt I was suffocating, but I had to stay still and control the retching in my throat. One of the bandages was coming loose.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

If I could just stay still a minute longer, I would be free of my constraints and I might stand a chance. The last swipe of the blade had cut through the burlap and now stung my skin. But I could move.

[Main Character]

At the next upswing of the pendulum.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

I carefully slid sideways and scuttled from the path of the returning blade. I was free. For the time being, at least, I was free and still alive.

[Main Character]

My feet were back on the ground, and I pulled at the remaining bandages until they lay in a pile at my feet.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Just then the machine stopped and was hoisted back to towards the ceiling. Any hope I may have had was dashed.

[Main Character]

I was still in the hands of.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

My torturers, of course. They had watched it all. Did I just trade one horrible death for another? I looked around at the walls of my prison and located the source of that sulfurous yellowish light. It was emanating from a continuous crack around the base of the wall, about half an inch in height.

[Main Character]

I lay on the ground and tried to see through the crack, but there was nothing beyond. I stood back up and tried to think. How could my cell walls have been raised half an inch? Were they on a pulley system? I looked around me and the frescoes that I had seen before, as faded, blurred and indistinct, now appeared vibrant and sharply detailed.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

All around me, vicious, demonic eyes glared, rippling in what looked like flame light. Was I hallucinating? Was I still drugged? Was I even alive? Was I in hell? Then a metallic wind wafted towards me. The odor of hot iron. The eyes that bore down on me were bright red. The red of freshly drawn blood.

[Main Character]

And there it was.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

The source of the hot metal smell. The red, hot metal walls of my cell were coming towards me, backing me up to the center of the dungeon, towards the pit. Some say the world will end in fire. Some in ice.

[Main Character]

In that moment, I made my choice.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

The cold of the rat infested well had to be better than being burned alive against metal.

[Main Character]

I backed up to the lip of the well and looked down. Now I could see all the way to the bottom. What I saw there, I cannot relive right now. It's too soon. I put my head in my hands and screamed. Screamed in terror, in horror, in frustration, in despair at how my life was about to end.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

It got hotter as the walls closed in. My torturers were losing patience with the prisoner who had twice escaped their machinations. The room was shifting in front of me. What had been a square was now an inverted triangle moving towards me, cutting off any way but down. Down into the belly of the well. Soon I would be enclosed. The burning hot walls rumbled and groaned as they reconfigured. It could not go into that pit.

[Main Character]

Not after what I had seen down there. Anything but that.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

That is where they wanted me. My torturers. That had been their original plan. But could I withstand the pain of my burning flesh against those walls?

[Main Character]

And what about the pressure?

[Edgar Allan Poe]

How would I resist being pushed over the edge? And now the walls were adjusting again, surrounding the well, trapping me up against its lip. Any moment now, any moment, and I would tip over and plummet into that water. I let out a final primal scream, all my despair in one plaintive moan from the depths of my soul as I tottered on the edge of that well. Then suddenly. Suddenly, loud blasts, what sounded like explosives. Then voices. Voices in a language I understood, not the language of my tormentors. The walls were moving in the opposite direction now, rushing away from me. And the voices. The voices were close in the room now, approaching me. As I tipped back towards the well, an arm grabbed mine and pulled me towards him. I looked into the eyes of a bearded JSOC man in desert camo. I later learned he was a Navy.

[Main Character]

Seal and he saved my life.

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Po is an Audio Chuck Original this episode was read to you by Ashley Flowers.

[Main Character]

So what do you think Chuck?

[Edgar Allan Poe]

Do you approve?

[Advertiser Voice]

I won't let my moderate to severe.

Plaque psoriasis symptoms define me emerge as you in two clinical studies, Trimphia guselcumab taken by injection provided 90% clear skin at 16 weeks in 7 out of 10 adults with moderate to severe plaque psoriasis. In a study, nearly 7 out of 10 patients with 90% clearer skin at 16 weeks were still clearer at 5 years. At 1 year and thereafter, patients and healthcare providers knew that Tremfia was being used. This may have increased results. Results may vary.

Serious allergic reactions may occur. Trimphia may increase your risk of infections and lower your ability to fight them. Before treatment, your doctor should check you for infections and tuberculosis. Tell your doctor if you have an infection or symptoms of infection, including fever, sweats, chills, muscle aches or cough. Tell your doctor if you had a vaccine or plan to emerge.

As you learn more about Tremfya, including important safety information, at tremfya.com or call 1-877-578-3527. See our ad in Food and Wine magazine. For patients prescribed Tremfya, cost support may be available.

Life can throw a lot your way. In the morning, you might be battling drop off times while your kids are battling imaginary monsters or their shoelaces. But no matter what Life brings, Life Cereal puts a smile on everyone's face. With 24 grams of whole grains and unexpected sweetness in every serving, it's sure to please even the pickiest eaters. Help Start your mornings with Life Cereal.

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