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Narrator
See full terms@mintmobile.com previously on the Chosen People.
Saul
Samuel, please. I. I have. I have sinned. I fear the people. I listen. I listened to them instead of God. But it was not my will. Please pardon. Pardon my sin. Return with me. Let me worship before the Lord.
Narrator
Saul's hands trembled. He lunged forward, grabbing Samuel's robe. The fabric tore.
Saul
As you have torn my robe, so the Lord has torn the kingdom from you. He will give it to another. The Lord has already chosen him. He is a man that seeks after the heart of God, more than the heart of the people.
Narrator
A wretched cry shattered the silence of the palace halls. A guttural wail of frustration and fury that sent the servants cowering behind doors and tapestries. There was something inside him. Something dark. Something clawing. He had known anger before, but this. This was different. This was like a living thing. A living thing that slithered through his mind, whispering venom into his ears, sound stoking the fires of his madness.
Saul
You're no king. Samuel said so himself. The kingdom will be given to another. Your time is almost up. Your memory will fade. Your legacy will burn. Nobody will remember you.
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Narrator
the heavens had forsaken him. Saul knelt in the dirt, his hands clawing at the empty air, his voice hoarse from screaming. The stars watched, cold and unfeeling. There was no answer. No whisper, no sign. Only silence. The campfires of his army flickered behind him, thousands of men stirring in uneasy sleep, waiting for his command. The Philistines had gathered beyond the valley, more numerous than he had ever faced. Tomorrow he would march against them. Tomorrow he would need the Lord. But the Lord was gone. Silent, indifferent to Saul's pleas. Saul struck his chest with his fist. He had sought the priests, but the Urim and Thummim had given no answer. He had sought the prophets, but they had turned their faces from him. He had cast the lots, prayed, fasted. Nothing. Yahweh had abandoned him.
Saul
If it was if it weren't for the curse of Samuel, you would still have the favor of God. It's his fault. He's laughing in his grave, knowing that your kingdom is failing because of him.
Narrator
Saul's hands shook as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Cold winds slashed against his skin, but it was nothing compared to the storm raging in his chest. Fear coiled in his belly, an old and unwelcome serpent. His warriors would look to him for courage, but there was none left in him. He was hollow, a man in name only. The thought sickened him.
Saul
If only I could speak to Samuel. Maybe this curse could be lifted. Maybe I could find favor again, find wisdom.
Narrator
Saul turned sharply and called into the night.
Saul
Sammy.
Narrator
Her shadow moved beyond the firelight, stepping forward with cautious steps. Tarvi, his faithful servant, wrapped a thick fur around his master's shoulders.
Saul
My king, I need you to seek out a woman for me. A woman? At this hour, my lord? Not that kind of woman, Tavi. A woman of the old race.
Narrator
A whisperer of spirits. Tarvi stiffened even in the dim firelight, saw could see the horror on his face.
Saul
My king, you and Samuel cast out such creatures long ago. To seek out such a witch would be going against your own decree. If the Lord had not abandoned me, then perhaps I wouldn't need to seek such creatures of sorcery. I sacrifice at the altar, yet no favor is given. I shout to the stars, but no one speaks. I pray and I pray for the torment within me to cease. But God has not answered.
Narrator
Saul took his spear and swung it at a pot beside him. It shattered into thousands of pieces, flying upward to Saul's cheek. He recoiled and grabbed his face. The bottom of his eyes were stained crimson.
Saul
What I desire. I am still the king. Bring me what I desire.
Narrator
Tavi hesitated, but he did not argue. He turned and disappeared into the dark. Saul stood motionless, listening to the wind tear through the trees. If the Lord would not answer him, then perhaps something else would.
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Narrator
The city of Endor was a corpse at midnight, its streets empty but for wandering drunks and the flickering glow of brothels. The air reeked of sweat, burnt fat, and rotting fruit. Saul moved through the shadows, his cloak drawn tight around him. Tavi followed close behind, hooded and wary. They did not belong here. The city felt wrong, too still, as if the very stones were holding their breath. At last they came to the alley. It was little more than a jagged gap between two crumbling buildings filled with refuse and the sickly stench of decay. At the far end, half hidden beneath torn drapery, stood a door of blackened wood. Tavi stepped forward first and gave two knocks, a pause, then the door creaked open, revealing a room thick with smoke and shadow. The air carried the scent of burnt incense, cloying and bitter. Shapes hung from the rafters, dried herbs, bones strung together with twine, and the shriveled bodies of dead ravens. And in the center of it all, lounging upon a mound of pillows sewn from the skins of bobcats, was the witch. She was younger than Saul had expected, though there was nothing soft or innocent about her. Dark markings twisted up her arms and neck, coiling like serpents beneath the loose folds of her robe. Her hair was long and wild, falling in tangled knots over her pale shoulders. But it was her eyes that held Saul still, black as ink, depthless and empty yet seductive. Saul didn't know whether to fear her or long for her. He felt repulsed and drawn at the same time. She saw him before. Before he spoke.
Witch
Who comes to me in the hour of the wolf?
Narrator
She stretched like a cat, her limbs slow and deliberate as she crawled over the pillows and towards Saul. Her gown slipped off at the edges of her shoulders, revealing everything underneath. As she leaned forward, Saul tensed.
Witch
You're a man with shadowed hands. A man with blood on his soul.
Narrator
Saul kept his hood over him, hiding the fear and intoxication in his eyes.
Saul
I need you to summon a spirit.
Narrator
The witch tilted her head, watching him with eerie amusement. She slid off her pillows and approached him, moving like smoke, her bare feet silent on the stone floor.
Witch
And what makes you think I can help you? The king's eyes are everywhere. Such divination has been outlawed by Saul the Righteous.
Saul
No. No. No punishment will come upon you. I. I swear it by the Lord.
Witch
You swear by the Lord even as you crawl through the dark to seek
Narrator
a the Witch drew closer to Saul, running her fingers up his stomach, past his chest, then to his head. She pressed her thumb against the side of his temple.
Witch
You are a man split in two.
Narrator
She drew her lips in close to Saul's ear, hissing as she spoke.
Witch
I can hear the other one in there. He's screaming at you day and night. He chip chips away at your resolve. It's only a matter of time before he is the only one left.
Narrator
Sol flinched.
Witch
No, don't worry. You are both welcome here tonight.
Narrator
The witch swayed backward toward the hearth. Her hips were like a pendulum, back and forth as her hands trailed down her body. She reached behind her and took a small flask, its glass smeared with black residue. She pulled the stopper with her teeth and tipped it over the fire. The flames sputtered and flared. The smoke rose with a foul smell, rancid and cloying, thick as to tar.
Witch
Whom do you seek?
Narrator
Saul's throat was dry.
Saul
Samuel, bring me the Seer, the Prophet of Israel.
Narrator
The witch drew a deep breath and blew into the smoke. For a moment she said nothing. Then, without warning, she stepped back, her head lolling forward like a puppet whose strings had been cut. A whisper slid from her lips, a sound like wind through dead trees. Her shoulders trembled, her arms shuddering violently at her sides. The whispers grew louder, faster, words in a language Saul did not know, guttural and wrong. Then she screamed. It was an awful, piercing sound, sharp enough to make Tavi stumble back and tip over some jars. The woman's body jerked and twisted, her fingers clawing at the air. Her head snapped up. Her eyes were wide, bloodshot, rolling in their sockets. She bore her fangs at Saul, hissing with rage.
Witch
You deceived me.
Saul
You. Saul.
Narrator
She lurched forward, her hands reaching for his throat. Saul grabbed her hands to keep her at bay.
Saul
I promise no judgment will come to you now. Tell me what you see.
Narrator
The witch recoiled and looked around the room. Her breath came in ragged gasps.
Witch
Someone is here. Someone powerful. Spirit. A man rising from the earth. He is old, cloaked in white, and
Saul
he comes towards you. Samuel. Samuel.
Narrator
The fire flared once more. The shadows twisted. The witch keeled over in pain, her neck vibrating as her shrieks continued. Her eyes darted up and she pointed at saw. Something was different in her voice. The presence of another.
Witch
You are a judgeman.
Narrator
A great wind blew in from the single window in the witch's hovel, extinguishing the fire and every candle that lit the room. All went dark. Everything was black, silent save for the ragged breaths of the witch. Her low groans fed the sense of dread in Saul's stomach. Tavi desperately reached for a flint to reignite the hearth. When he did, they saw the witch standing beside the flame with her shoulders backward and chin up, her lips parted. And when she spoke, it was not her voice that left them.
Saul
Why haven't you disturbed me?
Narrator
Saul recoiled, his pulse hammering in his skull.
Saul
Samuel, I am in great distress. The Philistines gather against me in numbers beyond, beyond counting. My army is afraid, afraid. My heart trembles, trembles within me.
Narrator
Saul bowed before the woman and whatever spirit possessed her.
Saul
There is no prophet, no priest, no dream that will answer me. And so I have called upon you so that you might tell me what to do.
Narrator
Silence.
Witch
Please,
Saul
Samuel, do not leave me to my own thoughts. I need your words. I need your guidance. I have sought the Lord, but he's been silent.
Narrator
Then the spirit woke, and with each word, the room grew colder.
Witch
The Lord's silence is his answer. Saul.
Narrator
Saul's hands trembled.
Witch
Why do you call upon me? Everything I have prophesied to you has come and will come to pass. Who? You know who. Saul. The one after Gods, O heart.
Saul
David.
Narrator
Saul's face drained of all color.
Witch
Do not fight it, Saul. The Lord is inevitable.
Saul
No, no, I've not come to speak of David. I've come to seek wisdom on how to defeat my enemies. I.
Witch
The Lord is your enemy, Saul, and his will is like a crossing river. You cannot force what is to come. Because you have disobeyed. He has delivered you into the hands of the stars.
Narrator
Saul's breath came fast and shallow. It was the woman's face who spoke, but Saul could hear the anguish in Samuel's voice.
Witch
Tamar, you and your sons shall be with me.
Narrator
The fire gutted and spun with the wind. Then, just as quickly as they had been snuffed by the wind, all the light from the candles returned. The chamber was silent. The witch blinked. Her body twitched once, then twice. A deep, shuddering breath rattled from her lips, and she sat up with a gasp herself. Once more, Saul still lay upon the ground, motionless.
Witch
These words exact a heavy toll. You should eat something warm. Find your strength to leave here and walk toward your fate.
Narrator
For a long moment, Saul did not respond. Then, finally, his voice rasped from the shadows.
Saul
No. I won't eat. What's the point?
Narrator
Slowly, he forced himself upright. His limbs felt like lead, his body empty, as if his soul had already begun to leave it. He turned to Tavi, who had been silent in the corner, watching with wide, fearful eyes.
Saul
We are leaving.
Narrator
The witch stepped back, though there was no triumph in her expression.
Witch
If you are to fight tomorrow, then you should eat. You will need your strength.
Narrator
Saul did not look at her. Tavi hesitated, then placed a hand on his king's arm.
Saul
My Lord, please.
Narrator
Saul exhaled slowly. He did not want food. He did not want warmth. He wanted nothing at all. Yet still he sat. Still he ate. And as he stared into the dying fire, Samuel's words burned within him.
Witch
Tomorrow you and your sons shall be
Narrator
There was no escaping it. Tomorrow Saul would march. And tomorrow Saul would die.
Production Narrator
This prey.com production is only made possible by our dedicated team of creative talents. Steve Katina, Max Bard, Zach Shellovaga 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 pray.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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Podcast Summary: The Chosen People
Episode Title: The Witch of En-Dor
Release Date: June 14, 2026
Host: Pray.com
Narrator voice: Paul Coltofianu
Featured Characters: Saul, Samuel (via the Witch), the Witch of En-Dor, Tavi (Saul’s servant)
This episode of The Chosen People plunges into one of the darkest and most poignant chapters of King Saul’s life: his desperate, forbidden visit to the Witch of En-Dor as he seeks guidance and comfort from the prophet Samuel—now dead—on the eve of Israel’s greatest military peril. Crafted with immersive dramatization, this narrative explores themes of divine silence, desperation, spiritual longing, guilt, fate, and the perils of abandoning faith.
(00:35–03:38, 04:44–06:23)
(06:53–09:01, 10:29–12:38)
(12:38–15:27)
(15:27–20:41)
(20:56–23:19)
“I have sinned. I fear the people. I listened to them instead of God... Please pardon my sin. Return with me. Let me worship before the Lord.”
“As you have torn my robe, so the Lord has torn the kingdom from you.”
“The stars watched, cold and unfeeling... Only silence.”
“You’re a man with shadowed hands. A man with blood on his soul.” “I can hear the other one in there. He’s screaming at you day and night... It’s only a matter of time before he is the only one left.”
“The Lord’s silence is his answer, Saul.” “The Lord is your enemy, Saul, and his will is like a crossing river. You cannot force what is to come.” “Tomorrow, you and your sons shall be with me.”
The episode is somber, introspective, and richly atmospheric, expertly blending poetic narration with intense emotional performances. Dialogue and narration retain a biblical grandeur but are accessible and humanized, allowing listeners to viscerally feel Saul’s terror, regret, and isolation.
This episode masterfully dramatizes Saul’s lowest and most fateful hour. The script and performances evoke the terrifying consequences of spiritual abandonment and the longing for divine guidance, while the chilling encounter with the Witch of En-Dor and Samuel’s spirit foretell the tragic end awaiting Saul. The story’s haunting message lingers: sometimes the silence of God is itself an answer.