Elijah: The Blood of Naboth

Summary

Podcast Summary: The Chosen People

Episode: Elijah: The Blood of Naboth
Hosted by: Pray.com
Date: August 11, 2026

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Episode Overview

This episode of The Chosen People explores the infamous biblical story of King Ahab, Queen Jezebel, Naboth, and the prophet Elijah, focusing on themes of power, justice, corruption, and the consequences of abandoning moral law. Through immersive dramatization, the episode delves into the complexities of faith and the tragedy that unfolds when ambition trumps righteousness, showing how even a king’s authority cannot escape divine accountability.

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Key Discussion Points and Insights

1. Ahab’s Despair and Jezebel’s Ruthlessness

[02:28–07:41]

• The episode opens in King Ahab’s royal chambers, where Ahab sulks over being denied Naboth’s vineyard. His self-pity demonstrates his weakness and frustration with being outmaneuvered by a commoner.

• Jezebel, unimpressed and calculating, chastises Ahab’s lack of resolve. She advocates for raw power over law or negotiations.

  • Memorable Quote [06:03 | Jezebel]:
    "You're the king, Ahab. Act like it."

• Jezebel forges a decree in Ahab's name, planning Naboth's execution, showcasing her willingness to achieve her husband’s desires by any means necessary.

2. The Corruption of Power and Apathy of the Masses

[07:54–13:06]

• The elders and townspeople are depicted as complicit through inaction, more concerned with their own security than justice.

• Naboth is wrongfully accused of blasphemy and treason. His appeals to the elders and townspeople met only with silence and avoidance, reflecting the social decay under corrupt leadership.

  • Memorable Quote [11:07 | Naboth to Elders]:
    "You know this is false. You know who I am. You have sat with me in the synagogue ... Look at me."

• The so-called “good men” of the village choose safety over righteousness, allowing Naboth’s fate to be sealed by the king's decree.

3. The Trial and Execution of Naboth

[13:06–17:35]

• Naboth’s isolation is underscored in heartbreaking exchanges with friends who abandon him out of fear:
  • [13:40 | Naboth]:
    "Yakim, you know me. You have seen my life, my faithfulness. You of all people know that this is a lie."
  • [14:37 | Eza]:
    "I can't, Naboth. It's already set in motion. I don't have the strength for this fight."
• The stoning of Naboth is brutally depicted, while Jezebel receives news of his death with cold satisfaction.
  • [17:33 | Jezebel]:
    "The vineyard is yours now."

4. Ahab’s Rationalization and Elijah’s Judgment

[18:44–25:54]

• Ahab attempts to morally justify his actions and claim to the vineyard, but is haunted by guilt.

  • [20:13 | King Ahab]:
    "Naboth was stubborn. That was his problem ... Talking about God's law as if I, the anointed king of Israel, am not the one responsible for upholding Yahweh's kingdom."

• Elijah appears as the divine messenger. His words cut through Ahab’s rationalizations, condemning Ahab for murder and theft and foretelling his doom.

  • [23:29 | Elijah]:
    "Found you, Ahab, you bloated sack of wine and cowardice ... The Lord pointed, and there you were, sloshing through stolen dirt like the overfit pig you are."
  • [25:54 | Elijah, delivering God’s judgment]:
    "Thus says the Lord ... in the very spot where the dogs licked up Naboth's blood, they will lap up your blood. Yes, yours, Ahab."

• Elijah delivers a chilling prophecy for Jezebel as well:

  • [26:39 | Elijah]:
    "The dogs. They will fight for the last scraps of her corpse."

5. Ahab’s Collapse and the Flicker of Mercy

[26:45–28:59]

• Overwhelmed with guilt, Ahab collapses in remorse, symbolically stripped of his kingly authority.

• The episode highlights the complexity of divine judgment: though Ahab is condemned, his repentance stirs God’s mercy, resulting in a delay (but not a cancellation) of his punishment.

  • [28:55 | Elijah, departing]:
    "Enjoy the wine, Ahab. It won't last."

6. Closing Reflection

[28:59–29:56]

• The story ends on a somber note, with Ahab left in his own ruin and Elijah disappearing into the distance. The vineyard stands as a silent witness, and a raven—symbol of impending judgment—watches the scene.

  • [29:56 | Narrator]:
    "Judgment always comes."

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Notable Quotes & Memorable Moments

• Jezebel's Pragmatism [06:03]:
  "You're the king, Ahab. Act like it."
• Naboth’s Plea for Justice [11:07]:
  "You know this is false. You know who I am ... Look at me."
• Elijah’s Direct Condemnation [23:29]:
  "Found you, Ahab, you bloated sack of wine and cowardice."
• Elijah’s Prophecy [25:54]:
  "In the very spot where the dogs licked up Naboth's blood, they will lap up your blood. Yes, yours, Ahab."
• Ahab’s Collapse [26:45]:
  (Ahab collapsing in dust and tears, symbolizing the weight of guilt and lost authority.)
• Final Warning [28:55]:
  "Enjoy the wine, Ahab. It won't last."

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Timestamps for Key Segments

• Ahab’s Brooding & Jezebel’s Challenge: 02:28–07:41
• False Accusation and Naboth’s Plea: 07:54–13:06
• Trial, Execution & Community’s Complicity: 13:06–17:35
• Ahab’s Rationalization in the Vineyard: 18:44–23:13
• Elijah’s Confrontation and Judgment: 23:13–26:45
• Ahab’s Remorse & God’s Conditional Mercy: 26:45–28:59
• Epilogue (Raven & Judgment): 28:59–29:56

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Episode Tone and Style

The narrative weaves darkly poetic descriptions and sharp, emotionally-charged dialogue. The voice acting brings each character to life: Ahab as brooding and self-justifying, Jezebel as cold and decisive, Naboth as tragic and righteous, and Elijah as unyielding in his righteous fury. The episode's tone is somber and reflective, making listeners contemplate the price of compromise, the dangers of apathy, and the certainty that justice, though sometimes delayed, is never denied.

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Summary

Elijah: The Blood of Naboth offers a profound retelling of one of the Old Testament’s most morally complex stories. It commands listeners’ attention through vivid dramatization and a relentless examination of power, conscience, and faith. The episode is a sober meditation on leadership, the consequences of moral cowardice, and the enduring truth that the eyes of justice—divine or otherwise—are always open.

Transcript

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[Narrator]

Previously on the Chosen People.

[King Ahab]

We cannot win this fight.

[Narrator]

Jezebel didn't look at him.

[Jezebel]

Then you should pray that your God intervenes. If he still listens to cowards.

[Narrator]

Jezebel leaned against the balcony and threw her head back.

[Jezebel]

Elijah and the prophets of Yahweh decry me and my prophets for our blood sacrifices. But I have come to discover some something. Your God is more bloodthirsty than mine.

[King Ahab]

You prophets always speak in riddles. What does it matter why I fight so long as I win?

[Elijah]

Because my king, the Lord, sees the

[King Ahab]

heart, and yours is running out of places to hide.

[Ryan Reynolds]

Hi, Ryan Reynolds here for Mint Mobile. Are you looking for a beach read this summer? May I suggest your big wireless bill? It's got suspense, mystery, a slightly flat emotional arc and a shocking twist where you realize you've been overpaying the entire time. Fortunately, though, Mint's story is better. Every plan $15 a month, even unlimited. That's it. Happy ending. Zero tears. Give it a [e-mail] Switch upfront payment

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[Narrator]

the Royal Chambers were dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of spiced wine and the faint, cloying remnants of incense it was an atmosphere designed for brooding, and as it turns out, brooding was one of the few things Ahab excelled at. He lay sprawled on his bed, limbs limp and useless, his face buried in the silk pillow like a child sulking over a lost toy. And truly, what greater burden was there than not getting what you want? The king of Israel, God's anointed ruler of Samaria, conqueror of nothing, lord of all except his own household, had been outmaneuvered by a farmer. Ahab exhaled dramatically, shifting just enough to free his mouth from the pillow so he could lament to the only person who might listen.

[King Ahab]

It's not fair.

[Narrator]

A pause. No response. He lifted his head slightly, glancing toward the heavy drapery that marked the entrance to his chamber.

[King Ahab]

I said it's not fair.

[Narrator]

Suddenly she was there. Jezebel. The firelight flickered against her gold threaded garments, dancing shadows curling around her like loyal pets. She took one look at her pitiful husband and let the silence stretch, an artist admiring a masterpiece of disappointment. Finally she sighed, sharp and unimpressed.

[Jezebel]

Oh, is this any way for a king to act?

[Narrator]

Ahab groaned and flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling like it had personally offended him.

[King Ahab]

You don't understand, Jezebel. I wanted it. I offered him a better vineyard. I offered him money. I was generous. But Naboths won't sell, he said. It was his family's inheritance. Some nonsense about Yahweh's law.

[Narrator]

Jezebel's expression barely flickered, but something behind her eyes sharpened, calculating.

[Jezebel]

Oh, so let me make sure I understand this correctly. You, the King of Israel, made a request of a commoner, and he shoved your request right back at your face.

[King Ahab]

He wasn't so aggressive about it, more pleading and sentimental. It was hideous.

[Jezebel]

Hideous indeed. And instead of doing something about it, you came here to sulk, to pout, to starve yourself out of sheer melodrama.

[Narrator]

Ahab had, in fact, refused to eat dinner. A bold protest, indeed. Jezebel exhaled through her nose, slow and measured. There were many things she could tolerate, but weakness was not one of them. And her husband, her king, was a spineless worm.

[Jezebel]

Get up.

[Narrator]

Ahab didn't move.

[Jezebel]

I said get up.

[Narrator]

Ahab obeyed, albeit slowly. She stepped closer, trailing a single finger along the edge of his bedpost, as though considering whether to strangle him with his own sheets.

[Jezebel]

You're the king, Ahab. Act like it.

[King Ahab]

But what would you have me do? He won't sell it.

[Jezebel]

Then don't ask him. Just take it. Who's to stop you?

[Narrator]

Ahab blinked, slow, dull Jezebel suppressed the urge to strangle him out of sheer annoyance.

[Jezebel]

Oh, do you think other kings beg? Do you think Pharaoh negotiates over land? Do you think Achish of Philistia grovels for a plot of dirt like a sniveling child?

[Narrator]

Ahab hesitated. She could see the gears turning in his feeble little mind, the moral resistance sputtering out like a candle in the wind. And then, in one fluid motion, Jezebel plucked a parchment from the desk beside them, her fingers moving with precise, practiced ease, she dipped a quill into ink, the black liquid pooling against the page like an open wound. With the flourish of someone who had done this before, many, many times before, she wrote a decree in the name of the king, a death sentence wrapped in legality. She pressed Ahab's royal seal against the wax, her fingers lingering for just a breath, longer than necessary, watching as it hardened into permanence. Then she lifted the parchment, tilting it so the firelight caught the words, illuminating the moment where morality had finally drowned beneath ambition.

[Jezebel]

There. That's how a ruler behaves.

[King Ahab]

Is it really that easy for a

[Jezebel]

ruler with his manhood intact? Yes, it is that easy, Ahab.

[Narrator]

Ahab watched Jezebel hand the sealed decree to an attendant. He left with a nod. Ahab had the sneaking suspicion that Jezebel had already planned this. She rarely did anything without scheming first. The town square of Jezreel was sluggish and lax, weighed down by heavy bellies and purses. The elders sat in their designated places, their hands resting limply in their lapse, their mouths set in grim, knowing lines. Jezebel had seen to their care, and they were loyal to her for it. They had been medicated into an apathetic and indifferent posture of power. Anytime a king's decree written with the queen's handwriting came, they didn't think twice. These were not wicked men, not in the obvious way, but apathy is its own kind of evil. And at the center of the elders was Naboth, the owner of the vineyard Ahab so desperately coveted. The elders had called him there to stand trial. For what? Naboth hadn't the slightest clue. He had spent a lifetime believing that truth mattered, that Yahweh's law was still the highest authority in Israel, and that justice had a meaning beyond the whims of those in power. But people consumed with lust for power loathe the truth. It's inconvenient. Messy. Naboth watched as two men approached the dais to bear false witness against Him. Their faces were thin with hunger. They had clearly been bribed with food. The first pointed his nail dirty, his lips curling into the smile of a predator who enjoys the suffering of smaller things.

[Naboth]

You.

[Narrator]

Naboth's chest tightened. A part of him still clung to disbelief. Surely not. Surely they wouldn't.

[King Ahab]

You have blasphemed God and the King.

[Narrator]

The words struck harder than any stone that would follow. A murmur rippled through the crowd, an eager shuffle, the beginning of movement, the first breath of something dark and ugly, uncoiling. Naboth stood slowly, his eyes sweeping over the gathered faces, looking for one, just one, that might hold his gaze. But they all averted their eyes. The elders sat rigid, their hands gripping the edges of their robes as if afraid of what might happen if they let go.

[Naboth]

What? No. No.

[Elijah]

This.

[Naboth]

This is false. I've done nothing of the sort.

[Narrator]

Naboth took a step forward, directing his words to the elders, the men he had respected, the men he had trusted to uphold God's law rather than bow to the whims of a palace that had forgotten him.

[Naboth]

You know this is false. You know who I am.

[Narrator]

You.

[Naboth]

You have sat with me in the synagogue. You have heard me pray. You have heard me speak Yahweh's name with reverence. And you have seen my offerings at the altar. Look at me.

[Narrator]

None of them did. They stared at the ground. A few shifted uncomfortably, but none spoke. None would defend him. None would risk themselves. And that was when he understood. This had been decided long before he ever stepped into this square. The elders had already signed their names. The officials had already sent the orders. The stones had already been gathered. The accusations were just a formality, a necessary script to keep the illusion of righteousness intact. Jezebel had written the lines. And these men, these good men, these pious men, these men who should have known better, had taken their paths without protest. Because survival mattered more than truth. Because keeping their place at the table mattered more than justice. Naboth's throat tightened, but he swallowed down the fear. He turned, this time addressing the people. The merchants, the farmers, the neighbors who had traded with him, who had borrowed from him, who had laughed with him on quieter days.

[Naboth]

You know me. You know my house, my family, my father before me. I have never spoken a word against the Lord. I have never dishonored the king. King, are you truly willing to let this happen? To let these madness speak? Lies. You know our lies.

[Narrator]

Naboth's eyes swept over the elders. But then, just for a moment, they landed on three faces in the crowd. Faces he knew well. Faces he had called friends. Yakim sat with his hands folded in his lap, his bald head holding an expression carved from stone. Once they had studied the law of Moses together, debating about justice and righteousness. In the late hours now, Yakim barely met his gaze.

[Naboth]

Yakim, you know me. You have seen my life, my faithfulness. You of all people know that this is a lie.

[Narrator]

I tried to put in the good word for you, but the king has the right to do as he sees fit.

[Ryan Reynolds]

Naboth.

[Narrator]

You must understand that. We all do. Naboth's stomach twisted. The words were precise, detached, spoken with the efficiency of a man who had long since decided which side was safer. He turned next to Eza, the man who had once laughed in his home, whose children had played with his. Eza would not meet his eyes. He shifted in his seat, rubbing his temple, as if the very act of engaging in this moment was too much for him.

[Naboth]

Ezer, please speak.

[King Ahab]

I. I can't name Hoth. It's already set in motion. I don't have the strength for this fight.

[Narrator]

It was worse than Yakim's coldness. It was cowardice wrapped in weary resignation. Naboth's throat tightened as he turned to the last man. Gadiel. Gadiel was already shaking his head, as if preparing an apology. He would never say gadiel. Look, I'll admit it.

[Elijah]

You've been wronged.

[Narrator]

But come on now.

[Elijah]

You must have known we weren't going to stick our necks out for you.

[Narrator]

The words hit harder than the first stone that would come. Naboth felt his breath leave him, not from the weight of accusation, but from the weight of abandonment. No one objected. No one felt fought for him. The people shifted, uneasy, but no one stood beside him. The machine was already in motion, and it was easier, so much easier, to let it crush someone else than to risk being caught in it themselves. Suddenly the weight of the accusation felt real, even though every soul present had heard the lie for what it was. But it didn't matter now. What mattered was that Jezebel's orders be carried out. What mattered was that the king be given what he wanted, and that the rest of them could sleep soundly, knowing they had done what was necessary.

[King Ahab]

Lord God, strengthen me.

[Narrator]

The first stone was thrown, and it struck Naboth's shoulder, knocking him off balance. The second hit his ribs, knocking the wind from his lungs. Then came the third, then the fourth. The frenzy overtook them. They descended on him in a storm of rock and fury, and Naboth fell to the ground. The dust settled. His blood pooled into the dirt. Then came the dogs. They slunk forward, thin and hungry, drawn by the scent of death. They lapped at the blood, indifferent to the weight of the moment, indifferent to the crime that had been committed. Dogs do not care for justice. Far away, behind the walls of the palace, Jezebel received the message. She barely looked up from the goblet in her hand as she listened. When the report was finished, she let a small, satisfied sound smirk curl her lips. She turned to Ahab, who had been waiting in the shadows like a man who did not want to know what price had been paid for his desires.

[Jezebel]

The vineyard is yours now.

[Narrator]

Ahab swallowed but said nothing. He did not ask how it had been done. He did not ask what had become of Naboth or whether the accusations had been true. He did not even ask if Yahweh had been watching. He only stood slow and silent and prepared himself to ride out and claim his prize. Somewhere beneath the earth, Naboth's blood seeped into the soil of the very land he had refused to sell. And the Lord saw

[Naboth]

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[Ryan Reynolds]

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[King Ahab]

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[King Ahab]

Tennessee 2012

[Narrator]

AHAB stood in his vineyard, surveying his prize. Though the taste of victory was already turning sour in his mouth. The sun beat down and the dust clung to his skin like the guilt he refused to acknowledge. He ran a hand over a vine, rolling a plump grape between his fingers, imagining the fine wines he would command, the legacy he would build. Jezebel had seen to everything. She always did. The dirt had settled, the nuisance erased. This was how kings ruled. And why shouldn't he have it? He had thought about it, justified it to himself a hundred different ways.

[King Ahab]

Why shouldn't I own this land? Who else in Israel is more deserving? I'm the king. This vineyard, this whole city, exists because I allow it to. You think Naboth wouldn't have had the luxury of tending those vines without me, without my armies, my Protection. My leadership.

[Narrator]

His fingers traced the rough bark of the vine, his mind spinning, grasping at whatever scraps of. Of righteousness he could weave together into a reason, any reason, that this wasn't theft.

[King Ahab]

Naboth was stubborn. That was his problem. Couldn't see past his own little patch of dirt. I offered him a better vineyard, gold, whatever he wanted. But no, he had to be a zealot. Talking about God's law as if I, I, the anointed king of Israel, not the one responsible for upholding Yahweh's kingdom. I do more for this land than Naboth ever did.

[Narrator]

The words came fast now, tumbling over each other, desperate, trying to fill the silence before it swallowed him whole.

[King Ahab]

What. What was I supposed do?

[Ryan Reynolds]

To.

[King Ahab]

To just accept his no. Let some self righteous farmer defy the king? What kind of ruler would that make me?

[Naboth]

No.

[King Ahab]

No, this. This is justice. This is order. The strong rule, the weak obey. That's the way of the world.

[Narrator]

But even as he said it, he felt it. The gnawing, the hollowness, the lie in his own voice. The sun burned hotter. The air thickened. The vines seemed to twist under his hands, curling away from him as if they knew. And then the air shifted. The wind kicked up dry and sudden, rattling the leaves. The hair on Ahab's arms stood on end. A shadow flickered in the heat haze, a presence that did not belong. And before he even turned, before he even saw, he knew. Elijah. That ragged lunatic, that living thorn in his side. That wild eyed God, haunted, insufferable prophet who always showed up just when Ahab thought he could finally enjoy something. And there he was, storming across the field, his tattered cloak whipping behind him, dust curling at his heels like the fury of God. His face was gaunt, all sharp angles and contempt, hair and beard wild and unwashed, eyes burning with the kind of righteous hatred that made Ahab's stomach tighten. The man never looked normal. He looked like a man who lived on locusts and spite. And at this moment, all of it was directed at Ahab. Ahab felt the blood drain from his face. His fingers twitched toward the hilt of his sword. Not to use it, of course, but just to hold something, anything. As if steel could protect him from the judgment that was walked toward him on sandaled feet.

[King Ahab]

So you found me, my enemy.

[Narrator]

Elijah didn't even pause, didn't flinch. Just kept walking like a man who had already won the fight before it even started.

[Elijah]

Found you, Ahab, you bloated sack of wine and. And cowardice. I didn't have to look. You reek of guilt. The Lord pointed, and there you were, sloshing through stolen dirt like the overfit pig you are.

[King Ahab]

Mind your tongue, prophet. Or what?

[Elijah]

You'll throw another tantrum? Run home to your wife so she can kill a poor servant boy and write me a nasty the letter in his blood.

[Narrator]

Ahab hated him. Hated the way he spoke, hated the way he moved, hated the way he never bowed, never simpered like the spineless elders and priests. Most of all, Ahab hated how his stomach curled inward at Elijah's words, because deep down he knew they were true. Elijah stopped just short of him, eyes flicking over the vineyard, letting the silence stretch. Then he laughed. Not a friendly laugh, not even a mocking one. It was worse than that. It was the laugh of a man who had already seen the ending of the story, who knew that all the power Ahab thought he had was nothing but sand through his fingers.

[Elijah]

First murder, then theft.

[King Ahab]

What's next, Ahab?

[Elijah]

Will you steal a cripple's crutch? Snatch a widow's last coin? Maybe ransack an orphanage while you're at it?

[King Ahab]

Enough.

[Elijah]

Look at you, standing here like a fool. Like you'll think this place belongs to you. You like you work the soil like you shed sweat for these vines. But we both know how you got it, don't we? We both know who bled for this land. And so does the Lord.

[Narrator]

The wind howled, the sun darkened, and suddenly Ahab felt small. Elijah took a step, step forward, his voice louder now, like a crack of thunder splitting the heavens.

[Elijah]

Thus says the Lord, God of heaven and earth, the God of the nation you claim to rule in the very spot where the dogs licked up Naboth's blood. They will lap up your blood. Yes, yours, Ahab.

[Narrator]

Ahab felt the weight of something far bigger than himself pressed down on his chest. But Elijah wasn't done.

[Elijah]

And your lovely wife, Jezebel. Oh, Jezebel. Don't think you always forgotten her. You know what's coming for her.

[Narrator]

Elijah leaned in close, lowering his voice, the words dripping with venom.

[Elijah]

The dogs. They will fight for the last scraps of her corpse.

[Narrator]

Ahab gasped. He took a step back before he could stop himself, before he could remember that he was the king and Elijah was just some half mad prophet who should have been afraid of him. But he wasn't. He never was. The words settled into Ahab's bones, filling the cracks of his conscience like rot. For a long, terrible moment, everything was still. And then Ahab collapsed. He fell, knees slamming into the dirt, hands gripping at his robe like he could tear the guilt out of himself if he just ripped hard enough. His crown slid off, forgotten. His shoulders shook. He ripped his clothes, the fine fabric tearing like the illusion of his invincibility. His lips cracked as he whispered words he barely understood, a plea, a prayer, a curse upon himself. He had not even noticed his servants watching, wide eyed, uncertain if they should step forward or step back. Elijah watched him, arms crossed. He was unmoved. But then something unexpected happened. For reasons that would never make sense to Elijah, Ahab's utter desperation stirred the Lord's mercy ever so slightly. The voice of Yahweh came not in the fire of judgment, not in the roar of finality, but in the quiet, unseen spaces between Ahab's whimpering breaths. The Lord saw. And so the punishment was delayed. Not erased, not forgotten, not undone, only delayed. Elijah exhaled, shaking his head, almost annoyed at Yahweh's mercy. He turned, ready to leave, but cast one final glance at the sin sniveling heap of a king at his feet.

[Elijah]

Enjoy the wine, Ahab. It won't last.

[Narrator]

Ahab did not respond. He could not. The prophet walked away, his cloak snapping behind him, his silhouette swallowed by the dust and heat. Ahab remained in the dirt, his body trembling, his face streaked with dust and tears. He had seen the end, and he knew he would not escape. The sun dipped lower. The vineyard stood empty, and on the wall, perched in the growing shadows, a lone raven watched, waiting. The wind carried the echoes of Elijah's words. Judgment always comes.

[Production Narrator]

This prey.com production is only made possible by our dedicated team of creative talents. Steve Catena, Max Bard, Zach Shellevaga and Ben Gammon are the executive producers of the Chosen People. Narrated by Paul Coltofianu. Characters are voiced by Jonathan Cotton, Aaron Salvato, Sarah Seltz, Mike Reagan, Stephen Ringwald, Sylvia zaradoc, Thomas Copeland Jr. Rosanna Pilcher and Mitch Leschinsky Music by Andrew Morgan Smith Written by Aaron Salvato, Bree Rosalie and Chris Baig. You can hear more prey.com productions on the prey.com app available on the Apple App Store and Google Play Store. If you enjoyed the chosen people, please rate and leave a review.

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