Transcript
Darrell Hall (0:06)
Oh, stories, real stories and murders do.
Mary (0:14)
Turn out your legs.
Darrell Hall (0:16)
Turn them out. Good evening. Come in, won't you? What's the matter? Surely you're not nervous. For example, car, I think restored. We are meant to call from out of the past. Stories, strange and weird tales of mystery and terror by radio's masters of the maa. Stories of a supernatural the supernova dramatized the mysteries, the unknown. We tell you this. Frank. Frank. So if you wish to avoid the excitement tension of these magic play ladies, we urge you our latest seriously to turn off your way down.
Podcast Host (1:02)
Welcome back to the Horror. Thanks for joining me. This week we're gonna hear this time from Lights out series that debuted over NBC stations in January of 1934. Aired until August of 1939, 274 episodes, the series returned to radio and a number of rebroadcasts through the 1940s. Our story today features Boris Karloff from March 28, 1938. Here's the dream.
Darrell Hall (1:32)
Tonight is the fourth anniversary of Lights Up. After four years of fantasy and imagination, chills and thrills, Lights up celebrates by bringing to the microphone the internationally known actor whose name has become synonymous with the unusual and fantastic. The National Broadcasting Company takes pleasure in presenting Boris Karloff in the first of a special series of Light out broadcasts. Light out, everybody.
Mary (2:16)
Sam.
Darrell Hall (2:52)
Tonight, Lights off presents another psychological drama. A play in which the principal part is taken not by the character himself, but his thoughts. The voice you are about to hear is that of the thoughts of one Darrell hall, accused murderer, sitting in a courtroom awaiting the return of a jury which is to decide whether he is to live or die. And as he waits, the thoughts in his mind seethe and swirl. See them swirl. Guilty. Words. Not guilty. Guilty. Not guilty. Guilty. Father in heaven, why don't I stop thinking those words? Words those jurymen are saying. He's guilty. He's not guilty.
Mary (3:40)
He's guilty.
Darrell Hall (3:41)
Not guilty. Guilty. No. No. I've got to stop thinking of what's going on in that room. The jury. I've got to stop thinking of them. I've got to keep my head clear. I've got to figure things out. When did all this start? Yes, I remember that night. Wayne and I were sitting in my room talking about dreams. I remember he said. Oh, come on, Gerald, don't expect me to believe that one. Well, I'm certainly telling you the truth. A fellow with your imagination wasting his time teaching biology to a bunch of co ed nitwits. No, sir. You should be writing fiction. I assure you, my dear Wayne I've told you the truth. You're really serious? Of course I am. You actually mean that in all your life, you've never had a dream? Never. Not even when you were a child? To my knowledge, I've never had a dream in all my life. Well, how do you like that? I like it very well. I close my eyes, oblivion, and then I wake up. No nightmare hangovers for me. Now, wait a minute, Darrell. Let me get this straight. You mean you've never even had a dream after, you know, eating a Welsh rare bit at midnight or surrounding a dozen green apples or anything like that? Believe me, Wayne, I've never had a dream of any shape, form or description in all my life. A dream to me is just a word. Something that happens to other people, but not to me. But everyone must dream. Well, perhaps. But it just so happens that my subconscious doesn't work that way. I tell you again, I have never dreamt. Well, what do you know about that? Just unbelievable, I tell you. Unbelievable. Yes, that's what he said. Unbelievable. It was unbelievable that I'd never dressed. Then after a while, he went away and left me there. It was early evening, but I remember that somehow, strangely, I was very tired. I sat down in the easy chair. Oh, I was so tired. Closed my eyes. I slept. And then. Then it happened. A strange murmuring in my head. Yes, that's how it started. A murmuring, as if in warning. And then in the darkness around me, strange faces lifting and falling. White faces. Faces without hope. Their eyes full of horror. Their white, bloodless lips bleeding wordlessly in a way that made the heart of me cry out in pity. Suddenly I knew I was asleep. And dreaming. Yes, dreaming for the first time in my life. And these faces I was seeing were things out of a dream. And even as I knew that the dream was gone. Blackness. And yet I knew that I was still asleep. And I had a terrible feeling of foreboding. Of a horror to come in that dream. What? How? I didn't know. For I wanted to stop sleeping. I wanted to open my eyes quickly before. And then I saw her. Moving slowly toward me out of the darkness. That was my dream. At first, a white wraith like thing. Then I saw it was a woman. Yes, the body of a woman. But the face, Father in heaven, that face. Gross, unclean. Thick bestial brows. Wrinkles of finery. The lecherous writhing of thin crimson lips that lifted from teeth, bite and pointed and flecked with blood. Yes, a glorious body and a face from hell. Closer. Closer to me. And Then she spoke one word.
