Lunatics Radio Hour
Lunatics Library 32: Goblin Horror Stories
Welcome to the thrilling conclusion of our deep-dive into the world of Goblins. This week Abby and Alan present three horrifying Goblin tales. Embark on a journey to the darker side of Japanese folklore as we unravel the terrifying tale of the Adachigahara Goblin, a creature known for its cannibalistic tendencies. Through the lens of a century-old folklore piece, we shed light on this malevolent being that strikes fear into the hearts of wary travelers. With the help of our friend Alex Goleman.
Next, Phil Eslick narrates Abby's story about a man who takes a job as a groundskeeper at a Scottish Estate.
And to round up this series, we're privileged to have JR Santos on board, an author with a passion for folklore. Follow JR on twitter @ccskeleton. Check out his short story collection here.
His first story published, "Azul"was featured on the first issue of the Archive of the Odd's epistolary horror biannual zine, find out more here.
What's it like to be a Cattle Rancher? FBI Special Agent? Professional Santa? Find out!
Listen on: Apple Podcasts Spotify
Welcome to the thrilling conclusion of our deep-dive into the world of Goblins. This week Abby and Alan present three horrifying Goblin tales. Embark on a journey to the darker side of Japanese folklore as we unravel the terrifying tale of the Adachigahara Goblin, a creature known for its cannibalistic tendencies. Through the lens of a century-old folklore piece, we shed light on this malevolent being that strikes fear into the hearts of wary travelers. With the help of our friend Alex Goleman.
Next, Phil Eslick narrates Abby's story about a man who takes a job as a groundskeeper at a Scottish Estate.
And to round up this series, we're privileged to have JR Santos on board, an author with a passion for folklore. Follow JR on twitter @ccskeleton. Check out his short story collection here.
His first story published, "Azul"was featured on the first issue of the Archive of the Odd's epistolary horror biannual zine, find out more here.
What's it like to be a Cattle Rancher? FBI Special Agent? Professional Santa? Find out!
Listen on: Apple Podcasts Spotify
Hello everyone, welcome back to another episode of the Lunatics Radio Hour podcast. I'm Abby Branker sitting here with Alan Kudin. Hello, Today we have the finale episode of our Goblin series for you.
Speaker 2:You say finale, but I feel like goblins are such an important part of your life that we will revisit in the future.
Speaker 1:You never really graduate from goblins.
Speaker 2:I always say that Sure, yeah, yeah, that explains your tattoo.
Speaker 1:So, if you missed it, part one we broke down the history, the mythology behind the belief in goblins. We talked a lot about goblins and pop culture.
Speaker 2:And Hellier.
Speaker 1:We talked a lot about Hellier, yes, and then, in part two, alan set up an amazing interview with Carl Pfeiffer, the paranormal documentary filmmaker behind Hellier, and it was incredible.
Speaker 2:I mean, carl had amazing things to say. If you haven't checked out that episode, please do, because I don't know it was a real treat It was. My one regret about that episode is that we didn't really get to talk shop. You know, i really wanted to like dig into the nitty gritty about, like what tools are you bringing with you, you know, when you're doing these paranormal documentaries? Because you know how do you balance being light on your feet with like having all like the right stuff.
Speaker 1:So you mean paranormal equipment or filmmaking equipment?
Speaker 2:My interest is primarily film equipment, but like you're already at capacity and then you also have to bring certain paranormal tools, you know, because, like Carl's style of filmmaking is incredibly cinematic And to be able to do that with like what seems to be a very bare bones kit seems like a very unique skill set And I don't know, i don't think we really talked about that. So hopefully we'll have another opportunity to chat with Carl.
Speaker 1:Yeah, and he did tease that Hellier. Season three is in the works now, so that's something exciting for us to look forward to.
Speaker 2:Right, but I don't think that it's going to have anything to do with goblins.
Speaker 1:Still.
Speaker 2:I'm fan theory. We don't know.
Speaker 1:Regardless, i'm still very interested in it. They also have a documentary coming out the unbinding very soon, so a lot to look forward to from Carl.
Speaker 2:But we are still talking about goblins.
Speaker 1:That's right.
Speaker 2:Because this is goblins, three Goblins part three. What's the byline? True him up and spit him out. Is that just because you're thinking about gobbling? Maybe?
Speaker 1:I think so Hard to say.
Speaker 2:I don't think it is, but okay continue.
Speaker 1:So today we have three stories for you. Two of them were written by modern writers, one was written by myself and the third, which we're going to start with, is actually a piece of history, a little bit of goblin folklore from Japan, which I'm really excited, yeah.
Speaker 2:Wait, we talked about Japanese goblins Very briefly. Does this have to do with them being good at climbing?
Speaker 1:No.
Speaker 2:Well, that is my one tidbit about Japanese goblins, so I guess I'm about to learn something new.
Speaker 1:There you go. So this first story I'm very excited to share. It's a translation of this very historic Japanese piece of folklore. So it's kind of interesting because there's tons of different versions of this right. It's kind of like a word of mouth thing, but there's tons of similarities to these different versions that I found, like on Wikipedia and on other sources, and the version that we're going to have performed for you guys today.
Speaker 2:So it's like if fairy tales were never standardized by the brothers grim.
Speaker 1:Right. So what we're going to read is, i think, the standardized version, which didn't come until 1908, but some of these tales date back much, much, much further.
Speaker 2:Okay, follow-up question Is there a wishbone episode about this topic?
Speaker 1:Not to my knowledge, no, but I'm first going to play the tape and then we're going to come back and I'll tell you guys a little bit more about the history behind this folklore.
Speaker 2:Okay, great, here we go.
Speaker 1:Okay.
Speaker 3:The Goblin of Aagachigahara, translated by Yei Figadorozaki, read by Alex Goldman.
Speaker 4:Long, long ago there was a large plane called Aagachigahara in the province of Mutsu in Japan. This place was said to be haunted by a cannibal goblin who took the form of an old woman. From time to time, many travelers disappeared and were never heard of again, and the old women round the charcoal brazers in the evenings and the girls washing the household rice at the wells in the mornings whispered dreadful stories of how the missing folk had been lured to the goblin's cottage and devoured, for. The goblin lived only on human flesh. No one dared to venture near the haunted spot after sunset and all those who could avoided it in the daytime, and travelers were warned of the dreaded place.
Speaker 4:One day, as the sun was setting, a priest came to the plane. He was a belated traveler and his robe showed that he was a Buddhist pilgrim walking from shrine to shrine to pray for some blessing or to beg for forgiveness of sins. He had apparently lost his way and, as it was late, he met no one who could show him the road or warn him of the haunted spot. He had walked the whole day and was now tired and hungry, and the evenings were chilly, for it was late autumn, and he began to feel very anxious to find some house where he could obtain a night's lodging. He found himself lost in the midst of a large plain and looked about in vain for some sign of human habitation At last. After wandering around for some hours, he saw a clump of trees in the distance, and through the trees he caught sight of a glimmer of a single ray of light. He exclaimed with joy oh, surely that is some cottage where I can get a good night's lodging. Keeping the light before his eyes, he dragged his weary, aching feet as quickly as he could towards the spot and soon came to a miserable looking little cottage. As he drew near, he saw that it was in a tumbled down condition. The bamboo fence was broken and weeds and grass pushed their way through the gaps. The paper screens which serve as windows and doors in Japan were full of holes, and the posts of the house were bent with age and seemed scarcely able to support the old thatched roof. The hut was open and by the light of an old lantern an old woman sat industriously spinning. The pilgrim called to her across the bamboo fence and said oh boss, son, good evening. I am a traveler. Please excuse me, but I have lost my way and do not know what to do, for I have nowhere to rest tonight. I beg you to be good enough to let me spend the night under your roof.
Speaker 4:The old woman, as soon as she heard herself spoken to, stopped spinning rose from her seed and approached the intruder. I am very sorry for you. You must indeed be distressed to have lost your way in such a lonely spot so late at night. Unfortunately, i cannot put you up, for I have no bed to offer you and no accommodation whatsoever for a guest in this poor place. Oh, that does not matter, said the priest. All I want is a shelter under some roof for the night, and if you would be good enough just to let me lie on the kitchen floor, i shall be grateful. I am too tired to walk further tonight, so I hope that you will not refuse me, otherwise I shall have to sleep out in the cold plain. And in this way he pressed the old woman to let him stay. She seemed very reluctant, but at last she said very well, i will let you stay here. I can offer you a very poor welcome only, but come in now and I will make a fire for the night, as cold.
Speaker 4:The pilgrim was only too glad to do as he was told. He took off his sandals and entered the hut. The old woman then brought some sticks of wood and lit the fire and bade her guest draw near and warm himself. You must be hungry after your long tramp, said the old woman. I will go and cook some supper for you. She then went into the kitchen to cook some rice.
Speaker 4:After the priest had finished his supper, the old woman sat down by the fireplace and they talked together for a long time. The pilgrim thought to himself that he had been very lucky to come across such a kind, hospitable old woman. At last the wood gave out and as the fire died slowly, he began to shiver with cold, just as he had done when he arrived. I see you are cold, said the old woman. I will go out and gather some wood, for we have used it all. You must stay and take care of the house while I'm gone". No, no, said the pilgrim. Let me go instead, for you are old and I cannot think of letting you go out to get wood for me on this cold night". The woman said you must stay quietly here, for you are my guest. Then she left him and went out. In a minute she came back and said you must sit where you are and not move and whatever happens, don't go near or look into the inner room. Now, mind what I tell you. If you tell me not to go near the back room, of course I won't, said the priest, rather bewildered. The old woman then went out again and the priest was left alone. The fire had died out and the only light in the hut was that of the dim lantern.
Speaker 4:For the first time that night he began to feel that he was in a weird place. The old woman's words whatever you do, don't peep into the back room aroused his curiosity and his fear. What hidden thing could be in that room that she did not wish him to see? For some time the remembrance of his promise to the old woman kept him still, but at last he could no longer resist his curiosity to peep into the forbidden place. He got up and began to move slowly towards the back room. Then the thought that the old woman would be very angry with him if he disobeyed made him come back to his place by the fire.
Speaker 4:As the minutes went slowly by and the old woman did not return, he began to feel more and more frightened and to wonder what dreadful secret was in the room behind him. He must find out. She will not know that I have looked unless I tell her. I will just have a peep before she comes back, said the man to himself. With these words, he got up on his feet and stealthily crept towards the forbidden spot.
Speaker 4:With trembling hands he pushed back the sliding door and looked in What he saw froze the blood in his veins. The room was full of dead men's bones and the walls were splashed and the floor was covered with human blood. In one corner, skull upon skull rose to the ceiling, and another was a heap of arm bones, in another a heap of leg bones. The sickening smell made him faint. He felt backwards with horror and for some time lay in a heap with fright on the floor. A pitiful sight. He trembled all over and his teeth chattered and he could hardly crawl away from the dreadful spot. How horrible, he cried out. What awful, then, have I come to in my travels? May Buddha help me, or I am lost. Is it possible that the kind old woman is really the cannibal goblin? When she comes back, she will show herself in her true character and eat me up in one mouthful.
Speaker 4:With these words, his strength came back to him and, snatching up his hat and staff, he rushed out of the house as fast as his legs could carry him Out into the night. He ran, his one thought, to get as far as he could from the goblin's haunt. He had not gone far when he heard steps behind him and a voice crying Stop, stop. He ran on, redoubling his speed, pretending not to hear. As he ran, he heard the steps behind him come nearer and nearer and at last he recognized the old woman's voice, which grew louder and louder as she came nearer. Stop, stop you, wicked man, why did you look into the forbidden room?
Speaker 4:The priest quite forgot how tired he was and his feet flew over the ground faster than ever. Nearer gave him strength, for he knew that if the goblin caught him he would soon be one of her victims. With all his heart, he repeated the prayer to Buddha Namu Mirabutsu, namu Mirabutsu. And after him rushed the dreadful old hag, her hair flying in the wind and her face changing with rage into the demon that she was. In her hand she carried a large, bloodstained knife and she still streaked after him. Stop, stop At last.
Speaker 4:When the priest felt he could run no more, the dawn broke and with the darkness of night the goblin vanished and he was safe. The priest now knew that he had met the goblin of Adhaji Gahada, the story of whom he had often heard but never believed to be true. He felt that he owed his wonderful escape to the protection of Buddha, to whom he had prayed for help. So he took out his rosary and, bowing his head as the sun rose, he said his prayers and made his thanksgiving earnestly. He then set forward for another part of the country, only too glad to leave the haunted plane behind him.
Speaker 1:Alright, before I get into the folklore that inspired that translation. What did you think?
Speaker 2:Where's the goblin aspect? It seems just like a term for a monster, a troll.
Speaker 1:Ding, ding ding. that's right. So this found its way into our searches on the internet because the translator used the word goblin, But in reality it's kind of this generic term for hag or demon or goblin that's being used by translators.
Speaker 2:Makes sense.
Speaker 1:I thought it was interesting to include it, a because it's a cool little story, but also because I feel like this is something we've talked a lot about in recent episodes, like kind of what gets lost in translation, how you're categorizing things from different cultures, when you're like we talked about this in the history of goblins with the term orc right, and how orcs and goblins and when they're being translated stories from different languages, things kind of get lost in translation sometimes.
Speaker 2:I think this was a perfect story to include. Think about the way that goblins are described in. I don't know if we talked. Did we talk about critters on the main episode? No, Okay, so I just kept watching goblin movies after we recorded the main episode, And critters is one of the things that pops up. It's not a traditional goblin, It's a little puffball with teeth right It's cutie, it's sorta.
Speaker 2:I mean from afar maybe, but you look close and they're monstrous. But you know, it's like a little seemingly mischievous gremlin looking thing, right, like seemingly a goblin, you know. But in this case they are intergalactic criminals.
Speaker 1:They're like heli-er goblins.
Speaker 2:Sure, but heli-er, yeah, just in that. They're probably aliens. Yes in that. But, like in this, they've literally been convicted by intergalactic court And they sent intergalactic bounty hunters after them. It's a honestly. Critters is a fucking cool movie And it spawned a whole series that I'm pretty excited to follow up with. It really just puts a spotlight on the fact that goblin is kind of an overall encompassing term, like a little monstrous thing, not human, definitely malevolent.
Speaker 1:Yeah, Or like trickstery poltergeisty.
Speaker 2:Definitely not your friend, Definitely not there, not a guardian spirit. No one says ah, my guardian goblin.
Speaker 1:But you do want your hobgoblin to come by and clean your house.
Speaker 2:I forgot about the hob, and okay, so I'm wrong. It's just an even larger, over encompassing term of anything, anything at all. That is supernatural.
Speaker 1:Yeah. So I want to tell you a little bit about the actual belief or mythology, i suppose behind this story.
Speaker 2:The mythos.
Speaker 1:The mythos, if you will. yes, so the Kurozuka, or the black mound, is actually thought to be the grave site of the Onibaba, which is sort of the term that was translated into goblin here in Japan.
Speaker 2:Wait, wait, wait. Onibaba was the.
Speaker 1:Yeah.
Speaker 2:Okay, because that was not mentioned in the story.
Speaker 1:Right, because it was translated to English.
Speaker 2:That's a whole other thing Yeah, so that was the original.
Speaker 1:The original tales all focus around this idea of the Onibaba which in this region. There's specific tales in this region, which we're talking about, of Japan, are, it's thought to be this woman, right, and there's many different versions of it And some She's in a cave and sort of the same action takes place, but in a cave, and a religious traveler comes to the cave, and there's all kinds of different variations. So there's a small museum in this area of Japan and they believe to have her remains, women's remains, the Onibaba's, as well as the cooking pot and knife that she used on her victims.
Speaker 2:Wow.
Speaker 1:Mm-hmm. There's also film versions of this as well, so that'll be interesting for us to add to our watch list. Yeah.
Speaker 2:Why? Why are we hearing about this now? We have a film version of a story we're including.
Speaker 1:But it's not really a goblin story right, or is it Because?
Speaker 2:So it's a follow-up? A goblin is anything.
Speaker 1:Well, it depends. Is that our thesis statement A goblin is anything?
Speaker 2:Anything with teeth and claws.
Speaker 1:All cats are goblins. That's the hypothesis here.
Speaker 2:No fur, oh critters, god damn it. I don't know, abby, you're really muddying the waters here.
Speaker 1:Well, I will say thank you so much to our friend Alex for reading that story beautifully. He has a very soothing voice.
Speaker 2:He did. I'm sorry I didn't give Alex any credit. That was a fentastic read. I loved his Japanese pronunciations.
Speaker 1:Yes, he was excellent. Now we have a less excellent story only because I wrote it to share with you guys.
Speaker 2:What. You're a great writer, thank you. For anyone who's not aware, you can check out Horror Stories written by Abby Branker. It's available on Amazon.
Speaker 1:Highly searchable because of its unique title. You can find it linked in the description of this podcast, though, if you are interested And it's kind of your last chance right now to get the first edition, because we're releasing a new edition soon That's going to change a few things.
Speaker 2:Which means the collectors.
Speaker 1:The collectors edition that has Bad Grammar is on sale now.
Speaker 2:No, no, which means that the original edition is going to be a hot button collectors item. That's right In two to three hundred years.
Speaker 1:That's right. Two to three hundred years. Yes, thank you, alan, for the vote of confidence. So I actually wrote this story specifically for our friend, who is going to read it for you now. So, without further ado, roll the tape.
Speaker 3:The Christie Manor written by Abby Branker, rent by Phil Aslik.
Speaker 5:Rent was going up, i hated my job, data entry for an antiquated financial firm And I had two options Move up and move back home out of the question, or use my last bit of savings on a big swing. I'm not generally a big swing sort of guy, but I knew I needed to shake up my life. I had been blindly following this path, how I thought I was supposed to live. Best case scenario on my current trajectory, i would end up as a moderately well-paid accountant in a few years. I'd come home to my hypothetical wife and kids to complain about the lack of inspiration. I felt How something was just missing And probably go on about some dick named Ben or Tom or whatever who worked in the next cubicle and chewed his subway sandwiches too loudly. It was like somebody had finally pulled the wool back from my eyes. What was I really working towards? To be a cog in someone else's wheel? To afford to pay $2,000 to live with some guy from Craigslist who eats my cereal and literally never takes the trash out? I didn't have anything. I wasn't leaving anyone behind, except maybe the girl from the bar.
Speaker 5:A few nights ago I bought a few PBRs, for All of my family was out of state, call it a quarter-life crisis, but somewhere in the dullness a hard truth was revealed Life is short. You only live once. On all of that, why waste it? I landed in Edinburgh at 4am, it was raining and I drank a coffee at a 24-hour café in the airport to kill time. I hadn't been particularly called to Scotland or to any other place, but I had found a posting online for an estate in need of a keeper, and while my resume seemed wildly irrelevant to me, the day after I applied I received an email from the housekeeper asking for a phone interview. My best guess is that my low salary needs were more appealing to them than finding a qualified candidate.
Speaker 5:The estate was in Murrayfield, close enough to the city for my exploration, but far enough for the homeowners to have an impressive grounds that needed upkeep Win-win. She ushered me into a sleek black car, one I knew I'd be impressed by if I knew anything about cars. It felt like something James Bond would drive. She introduced herself as Mrs Goff. She didn't even offer her first name. I told her my name, logan. The drive was short and rainy. Mrs Goff didn't speak much, and I sat in silence and watched the lush green landscape roll by The estate was exactly as I pictured it Impeccable lawn, impressive trees, even a few horse-shaped statues in the garden for good measure. The house looked like the setting of a Jane Austen novel, but the air felt fresh in my lungs.
Speaker 5:Stuffy Mrs Goff introduced me to elderly Mr Ford who was passing the baton to me in exchange for retirement. It seemed long past due. Mr Ford hobbled around the grounds calling plants their scientific names and telling me how to get manure from the local stables. Down the street There was a push mower in a barn along with more gardening tools than I knew what to do with. Literally. He had seeds germinating in jars and special machinery to cut stone and sculpt hedges. I knew I was out of my element, but I also knew there was no turning back. Not yet. I owed it to myself and my wallet to see where this went. At least wait for them to fire me. He told me that the masters of the house, the Christie family, were rarely in town. The parents were retired from big bank jobs, mostly skiing the Swiss Alps these days. They had one daughter, eliza, who was studying at Oxford and rarely came home outside of the holidays.
Speaker 5:After our tour Mr Ford brought me back to my accommodations, a small finished room attached to the barn. There was a twin bed, a small dresser, kitchenette, bathroom and in the center of the room were Mr Ford's packed bags. The weight of this handoff struck me momentarily. This was Mr Ford's life's work. It was my quirky story that I'd tell in a bar one day I'd never even used a weed wacker before. I shook his hand and helped him with his bags.
Speaker 5:Before bringing mine back to my new home, mrs Goff had set up afternoon tea for me on the small table next to the bed. I didn't know what to do next. I could feel Mrs Goff's eyes on me from the main house, which I had not been shown inside of. I decided there was no time like the present. I grabbed some hedge clippers and made my way to the edge of the property and started clipping. More of a performance than an actual haircut for the bushes, but it made me feel productive. That evening I sat on my twin bed and made a list of all the chores I would rotate through, trying to remember all of Mr Ford's instructions Blow the grass once per week, power wash the stone walkways after a storm, trim the hedges, check Without knocking.
Speaker 5:Mrs Goff opened the door holding a tray. She was silhouetted in the dark, the light from the main house shining behind her. Jesus, i burst. You scared me. She gave me a beady eyed glare. Well, shut a language, son. I hopped up and took the tray from her. Roast meat, green beans, mashed potatoes, a dinner roll Classic. Thank you for dinner. Do you mind knocking when you come by? She looked taken aback by the suggestion. I went on in case I'm in the shower. She nodded curtly and left without closing the door behind her. The joke was on me. When I went to shower that night I found out there was only a bath. The next morning I woke up to a tray of eggs outside my door on the ground, along with a note.
Speaker 5:Spending the weekend at my sister's in Blochton Market is down the lane to the east. The amount of trust being put in me was shocking Me, a mere stranger and foreigner, suddenly the sole caregiver of this historic estate for the weekend. But I did feel a sense of relief. It would give me a chance to get acclimated without Mrs Goff's piercing stare on me. It was early, but I scarfed down my eggs and ventured down the lane in search of groceries. I found the store charming, the people endlessly kind. I could see the urban expanse of the city so much closer than it felt. It was as if some giant plucked this grand estate from the countryside and plopped it right in the middle of the city. As I walked toward the Christie House, i took in my surroundings A quaint road lined with stone walls, but it was a short walk. I could see the shrubs marking the entrance from the driveway on the right, about 50 yards away From the bushes, something stepped across the lane and disappeared on the other side of the street. I squinted. It was gone. It had been too small to be a person but too large to be a bunny or a fox. Seemed to have walked, not scurried, across. I kept walking, writing it off as my ignorance about the fauna in this part of the world. I ate well.
Speaker 5:That day I drank a beer in my quarters and read. Around 11 o'clock I decided to call it a night and turned off my desk lamp. But as I did I noticed something new. A light was on in the main house and I had a notice tip before, while I was lost in my book, i was buzzed enough to go investigate. I slipped my sneakers on and grabbed a flashlight from the bin near the door, but I kept it off. As I approached the house, the moon and the yellow beam of the light from the upstairs window was enough to guide me. I looked up. I could see movement behind the sheer curtain. It looked like a woman. Maybe it was Eliza, the Christie's daughter, taking advantage of the empty house to entertain her friends.
Speaker 5:I was about to turn around and head back to my shed when I heard a strange noise coming from inside the house. My brain couldn't quite parse if it was a scream or grunt. I looked up as the light shut off in the upstairs window. Another strange noise Instinct kicked in. Something felt off. I tried the back door knob. It was locked. Mrs Goff hadn't left me keys for the main house. There was a rattling coming from inside. It felt like the house was quivering. I threw caution to the wind and picked up a landscaping stone from the back patio and smashed it through a first floor window. I half expected an alarm system to trigger, but the glass shattered and then all was quiet. Whoever was inside had heard. The grunting noises had stopped. If it was Eliza, she might be in trouble. I kicked out the glass from the pane and unlocked the back door.
Speaker 5:The house was beautiful, formal. There was a slight smell of age mustiness, not unpleasant, but it reminded me of a museum. Everything was a lot older over here. Hello, i called. Is everyone okay? I knew it was risky, but whoever was inside had already heard me And I didn't want to surprise an unsuspecting college student by breaking into their home unannounced. It's Logan, the new gardener. Silence. I heard strange noises. Is everyone okay?
Speaker 5:I had made my way to the base of the grand staircase polished wood. I could see framed pieces of art lining the walls. I took my first step up. I paused. Silence persisted. I made my way up. My hands were trembling.
Speaker 5:Something about this felt wrong, but I had no other choice. I was compelled, almost pulled forward. Jesus Christ, i have shrieked as a woman appeared at the top of the steps. It was so dark, but I could make out her outline Slim, long hair, young. Not Mrs Goff, eliza. The woman nodded and beckoned me forward. Oh, sorry, listen, i'll fix the window tomorrow. I heard noises and you're okay, right? The figure beckoned me again. Maybe she was hard of hearing. I took another step up. She disappeared around the corner. Wait, come back. I'm going to head back to the shed. I just wanted to check.
Speaker 5:The light went on down the hall. Alright, i resigned, let's get this over with and I can get out of here. I climbed to the top of the stairs. Down the hall to the right, i could see a door, a jar. The yellow beam of light now spilled into the hallway, illuminating the ornate runner along the floor and casting harsh shadows on the framed family photos hung up and down the walls. Hello, i tried again. Knowing there would be no answer. I took a deep, steady breath and pushed the door fully open. I could see the back of the woman standing in front of the window. I realized it was the same room, casting the light across the backyard. Maybe this was her room. I felt suddenly uncomfortable. Hey, eliza, is it? I'm going to go head back outside. Things seem fine in here and please don't tell your parents about the window. It will be all fixed up in the morning.
Speaker 5:She didn't respond, but I noticed she was shaking ever so slightly. Was she sobbing? Oh shit, i wasn't any good at this sort of thing, are you okay? She shook her head. No, i approached her and put an awkward hand on her shoulder. Can I get you anything? I asked A nod What do you need? I went on At this. She turned towards me. She was beautiful, the deepest green eyes I have ever seen, like emeralds. Her brown hair had reddish strands making her eyes pop. Her lips were so red she looked almost fake, a caricature of a beautiful woman. The next thing I noticed was that no tears stained her face. She continued to shake, but now I could see a slow grin creep across her lips. Her smile was so wide, stretching to her ears. She parted her lips to reveal rows and rows of teeth. A long, curled black tongue fell out of her mouth. She was laughing. Her feminine mask fell away, piece by piece.
Speaker 3:Look on quick, you black.
Speaker 5:Strange words escaped her lips, a mix of grunts and chants. I tried to run in. With a simple flick of her massive clawed hands, i fell to the ground. The satanic chanting continued. I tried to crawl away, but her claw dug into my calf, piercing my skin. I called out. The goblin woman laughed as she licked my blood off her talon. My blood seemed to spark something in her. She licked again and I noticed her eyes flicker to blue. Her hair got shorter. She looked like me. She was stealing my identity. Horror like I'd never felt before flooded over me. My heart was beating so fast I couldn't feel it anymore. My body was buzzing with adrenaline and fear. I had to fight this or I would die here, thousands of miles away from my family. They would never know what happened to me. God damn, quarter life crisis. I shook off her talons and sprinted out of the room. I quickly learned that I couldn't put any weight on my calf. Half limping, half running, i made my way down the stairs.
Speaker 1:Boom.
Speaker 5:I ran straight into Mrs Goff. I blinked stupidly, confused. Then I immediately tried to rush her from the room. She remained where she was. She was too strong for me to move. Strange, she held up an amulet hanging from her neck, a gold pendant with a fancy sea engraved on it. The goblin woman was approaching now. She was halfway down the stairs. Mrs Goff pushed me behind her and held up her amulet to the creature. The goblin burst into nothingness at the sight of the pendant, as if a vacuum had opened up and sucked her away. My hurt leg finally gave out and I collapsed on the floor.
Speaker 3:What the?
Speaker 5:fuck. I looked up to the housekeeper for an explanation. Welcome to the Christiastate. She said You'll need one of these. She handed me an identical pendant. Put it around your neck, take it off. I did as I was told. How did you know I was in trouble? I asked her. I didn't truly visit my sister. You needed to see it for yourself in order to believe me. This job is part gardener, part security. Can you handle it? I blinked up at her. Yes.
Speaker 2:Well, hot, dang Abby, that was your story.
Speaker 1:That was my story.
Speaker 2:First off, it's been a while since we've heard of Brank Original. This, i think, was one of my favorites.
Speaker 1:I kind of thought that you would like it.
Speaker 2:First off, we got an actual scary goblin story A rarity, is it? Yeah, they're always like a little quirky kind of. You know they're mischievous. You know there's always humicomic relief with goblins. Sure, i thought it was just fucking scary.
Speaker 1:That's what I was going for, so I'm glad that you found it scary.
Speaker 2:Also, I was really, really impressed with Phil. I thought his American accent was spot on. His native Scottish accent just was obviously good.
Speaker 1:Yes.
Speaker 2:But no, I thought his American one was very convincing.
Speaker 1:What did you think of his goblin accent?
Speaker 2:His goblin voice Very, very good. In fact, I can't tell you that I've heard a better goblin voice.
Speaker 1:Wow, high praise.
Speaker 2:I mean, the list is short, but he's still number one.
Speaker 1:I think we talked on the podcast about how I wanted to write this story specifically for Phil, because he has this talent with voices.
Speaker 2:The goblin chanting, if you will, was that real words?
Speaker 1:No.
Speaker 2:Okay, just checking. I wasn't sure if it was just that goblin-y or No. Okay, got you.
Speaker 1:Yeah, it was gobbly cook.
Speaker 2:Got their official language. It was a fun. it was a fun story. Good pacing, Thank you. Good world building.
Speaker 1:Good narration.
Speaker 2:Excellent narration. Very excited to have Phil do more stuff.
Speaker 1:Did you like the pendant? at the end It felt a little Lovecraftian, a little Van Helsing-esque.
Speaker 2:I didn't get either of those vibes.
Speaker 1:What vibes did you get? It's nice to have someone hold a mirror up to your work sometimes.
Speaker 2:Oh, is that what we're doing? Okay, buckle up. No, i get Van Helsing vibes, not Lovecraftian.
Speaker 1:Okay, all right, i'm only thinking Lovecraftian, because it's sort of like a Victorian house. Oh, was it.
Speaker 2:I thought this was modern.
Speaker 1:It was even older than that, the home. It was like a Scottish countryside manner, Right the home was old, but this was a modern story. Yeah, it was modern.
Speaker 2:Yeah okay. I see.
Speaker 3:Well, it could be classified.
Speaker 2:Yes, but it's not Lovecraftian. Okay, noted and logged, thank you, but the pendant great And the housekeeper at the end just kind of coming in to button up the story, great.
Speaker 1:Yeah.
Speaker 2:Didn't feel forced. I love the way that filmators seem stern and kind.
Speaker 3:Yeah.
Speaker 2:There was no shaming about like, hey, listen, dude, you fucked up by almost dying and breaking our house. But listen, this was just. Everybody does it. I did the same thing back when I started in 1812. She's very old.
Speaker 1:Very old.
Speaker 2:Because she has magic pendants.
Speaker 1:That's right.
Speaker 2:And the whole like guardian ship aspect of it was just kind of neat.
Speaker 1:Good, i'm glad you like that Good story, Abby.
Speaker 2:Thank you, Good job Phil.
Speaker 1:Yes, thank you, Phil.
Speaker 2:Big fan of Phil.
Speaker 1:Big fan of Phil.
Speaker 2:Yeah.
Speaker 1:Okay, so we have one final story, a finale story, if you will, and it's very exciting because we have a debut writer on Lunatics Radio Hour and a debut narrator.
Speaker 2:Also on Lunatics Radio.
Speaker 1:Hour On Lunatics Radio Hour. yes, No one's first time in a rodeo, but their first time in this rodeo, if you will.
Speaker 2:Welcome to the minors.
Speaker 1:No, alan, we're going to tell you about our narrator and our writer after. The writer has a ton of really cool stuff that I want you guys to check out, but first let's listen to the story, and I will give you one little piece of information here, which is that the writer is from Portugal, and so he actually spent a lot of time emailing back and forth with me, teaching me about kind of like local folklore there. So we're going to come back, we'll talk about it after, but neat, all right. Yes, very cool. Okay, here we go.
Speaker 3:Tony. Read by JR Santos. Read by Christian Forrest 1966, portugal.
Speaker 6:It happened on a Friday. A little house out north by the river. During the holidays, julia couldn't keep the baby quiet, no matter what she did, andre watched, exhausted, also thought likely not as much, he wasn't the mother after all. Without rising from the sofa, he raised both hands, posing as if in an oil painting some biblical figure figuring to receive baby Jesus in his arms. I'll hold him. No. Julia's reply was short, dry and gave no room for debate. What kind of mother would I be? What will our neighbors say when we get back? when I can't keep him quiet?
Speaker 6:Andre curled on the sofa and fell asleep, despite the crying. What woke him was the thunder And as he jerked to a sitting position, his sight blurry from sleep, the door slammed closed. God, julia, what happened? I didn't want to wake you up. She adjusted her hair dripping wet, head to toe, holding a bundle close to her chest. Walk, yes, i went for a walk with the baby and it worked.
Speaker 6:Andre was filled with a moment of panic staring at the wet bundle. He peed carefully, pushing aside some of the fabric. The child looked up from within. The boy, rafael, just a babe, was still, but his eyes opened in full of life, his cheeks red and he smiled at his father, who sighed with relief. I don't know what possessed you. He said as quietly as he could not to scare the babe. But I'm begging you not to run out in the rain with our son. I wasn't running. Then Julia replied in a hoarse whisper of her own. She took Rafael upstairs, bathed him and dried him, then returned the boy to his father so she could do the same. Do you want to sleep now". He soothed the child as best he could, though Raphael seems to be still in a pleasant state of half asleep. Already the baby cooed and reached with one small hand. Andrei smiled back and allowed the baby to hold his index. That's such a strong grip you have. That's my boy.
Speaker 6:He walked around the living room of the comfy country house. All manner of memorabilia hung from the walls, from paintings to black and white photos from the locals dead for the better half of a decade. Some blow horns made of semi-curved horns of bulls, metal bells that once ringed from the necks of sheep and some horseshoes. Picking one such horseshoe, andrei tried to show it to the baby. Look, he started, but he would not finish, for as soon as he brought it close to the face of the child, the babe began to scream, the face contorted horribly, skin folding upon folding the head of a tiny old man. What happened? Julius started to run downstairs and Andrei threw away the horseshoe to some corner of the floor.
Speaker 6:By the time, julius was next to them in her robe, her hair wet from the shower. Their son had calmed down. There, there, mommy's here, don't cry, darling. Julia held her son in her arms and rocked her arms gently, humming a lullaby. She looked at her husband, accusing him, but said nothing. Once the boy was asleep, they went to bed. The rain continued but yawned from a downpour down to a light shower. Night sounds made their way into the bedroom the wind, the nearby river, the cracking and chirping of totes. Andrei fell asleep to dreams of men and women with frog heads, dancing and singing in their amphibian language, plucking objects the dreamer could not see from wicker baskets and devouring them whole.
Speaker 6:Two weeks went by. They were back in their own little home, close to a different river, in the old town, full of homes that had been built and rebuilt since medieval days. It was still within the capital and a so a city life was Through. The neighborhood had in many ways, those elements which reminded them of the country Peek-a-boo. The little boy laughed with the light and a contagious warmth to it. I'm here. Julia hit her face again. Where did I?
Speaker 3:go.
Speaker 6:The laughing stopped, peek-a-boo, the smile this held for a moment Of surprise and disbelief, and her body contorts. Her face becomes stuck in the rigid agony of a scream. What happened? Andrei rushes to the sunny kitchen. The spring warmed and the smell of flowers carried by breeze both mixed with the smell of cooking. He had been quietly working on some numbers on a notebook. It had been his turn to figure out how to stretch the couple's salary that month, that routine of the adult mathematics of survival in which they both had become professional athletes. The baby, the baby is gone, oh God. She looked around and panicked, touched the empty chair, grasping at air. The baby is gone. The window.
Speaker 6:Andrei jumped out of the kitchen window and started running, the mother starting out and completely lost. She saw it then moving past the neighbor's house, a small figure wearing a red coat and hood, the top of which formed the point of a conical shape. This stranger particularly flew over flights of steps, holding the baby running down the ancient cobbled street, and Andrei close in pursuit. She lost them shortly into the distance as they turned the corner of a house. She ran to pick up the phone and called the police. Julia cried and sobbed, her tears streaking down her face, ruining her makeup. It wasn't her fault, she said to herself. Yet she couldn't help but feel immense guilt. The figure was small, a child. If you had to guess, andrei could only guess, could only assume it was not one of the neighbor's kids, because it was dressed in dirty red racks, too filthy for someone in a nice neighborhood to allow their children to wear. It just wasn't proper, he reasoned. He shouted as he raced after the boy, all his neighbors came out of their doors and windows staring at the crazy man racing past homes, shops, cafes and eventually out and away past the road full of cars and towards the river and the docks. Every time he was close enough to the ragamuffin, so close he could touch the horrible little thing, it dodged him. Why would no one help him? It felt like a nightmare that he couldn't wake up from, trapped in the chase that would never end.
Speaker 6:The sun was setting by the time the ragamuffin started to slow down, tripped in for a disorienting and panicked moment. The father feared for his boy, but the kidnapper rolled to land on their back, expecting the worst from happening by holding the baby Raphael close to their chest. Andre felt like vomiting up at that moment, so scared and out of breath, with his leg shaking and almost numb, but managed to not And only started to realize how far they had run. They were so close to the docks and they were close to those massive containers. The figure trod behind those massive stacks of metal And it was empty. But for them Trimbling, he walked to his boy who was happily cooing while still being held by whoever had taken him. Stop, he muttered at the kidnapper. Please my son, give me my son. He barely had any breath in his lungs. Even saying the word seemed to take more than he had to give.
Speaker 6:The kidnapper slowly sat up and pulled back what he had now realized had been a hood. What Andre saw stopped him in his place because it was so strange that he had to If he had been a child who had taken his son. But nothing was normal about the child that looked up at him with big eyes, wet with tears. The amphibian eyes were too big for the child's head And the skin was pale, sickly covered not so much with hair but dark fur and pointy ears. Nothing between a monkey and a frog With an inflated head that made it look cartoonish. It blinked up at him, big, shiny tears rolling down their face and it croaked hoarsely at him. Whatever it was, it was begging Please. It said. I'm sorry, please let me go. It's my brother.
Speaker 6:Andre got closer to the child, but he felt sicker the closer he did. All the running had driven him to the point of fainting And now he was staring, unable to understand what the toad child meant. That's, that's my son. The creature shook its head, blinking hard to clear its massive eyes while it held the baby closer. She took him, it said with a child's voice, wining and speaking with the difficulty as if it was still learning how to do it. She took him. I asked her to come back. She didn't stop. She tricked me.
Speaker 6:The father was utterly lost, too confused to make heads or tails of what was going on. Don't tell her, please don't tell her. Say you lost me. You can't trust her. You can't. What are you saying? She lied to you. She took my brother and told you lies. Look at him, look.
Speaker 6:The father looked and through the days he realized the baby was wrong. It had never really resembled him, but it was now clear that the thing was frog like, as the older child was. He had been tricked, but why? I don't know, i don't know. Please, let me go, please. He was a broken man and capable of doing anything but falling to his knees. He hid his face in his hands and rocked back and forward, powerless, and the frog child hesitated only a moment before turning away.
Speaker 6:What had happened that Friday night out, north, in a downpour? Why had Julia come back with a child, not her own, a child made to appear like theirs? Andre couldn't understand how. Neither of them knew, yet his mind tugged at him. This was real, but it happened, and at least one of them, if not Andre, then Julia, must have suspected.
Speaker 6:The child had been quiet until Andre had shown the horseshoe to the changel. They found him covered in scratches, standing dumbly, his hands still covering his face. Local law collected him and wrote off the incident as temporary madness. Let me see him. Mother was desperate, confused Through a chill on the back of her head, whispered this was punishment for an unspoken sin. She kneeled beside him, forcing his hand away from his face. Julia was met by vacant eyes and held her husband in her arms and cried Back north, passed a commonly country house, past the river under bushes and lost somewhere in the mountains where it was nearly always cold, windy and often full of sweet rain. Red hooded creatures danced and comforted, croaked their songs to each other. They had rescued one of their youngest and found him a brother to pair him with A human baby boy who laughed and applauded His parents forgotten, dressed in a red coat and a red cap, sitting next to the changeling who looked like him sometimes And who he would call brother.
Speaker 2:Well, well, well. Another goblin story that leans into the shape-changing aspect of the goblin.
Speaker 1:That's right, which is my favorite, like unknown fact about goblins. Why because it's just interesting. It's like when you think of goblins you're never like shape-shifters or I wasn't but so much of what we've uncovered with this series is tied to that.
Speaker 2:Prior to doing any actual research on goblins, which you know, I don't think the majority of people research goblins.
Speaker 1:I'm sure.
Speaker 2:I Pictured the, the goblin that you fight in video games or in D&D, which is like the little green, you know little micro troll. That's cute that just like Wants your gold and it dresses and rags and is stupid and has bad Swords bad sorts. Yeah, like they always drop bad stuff.
Speaker 2:In video games yeah, or you know, or in or in tabletop games, but Yeah, they're always wearing using, like a garbagey, rusty blades. There's like a level one enemy, if I right, the one exception Being the treasure goblin from the Diablo franchise, which usually has really incredible loot good to know.
Speaker 1:Now we know.
Speaker 2:Yeah, you can always tell they're nearby because they give their little little cackle.
Speaker 1:I want to talk a little bit about our author, j R Santos. So again, like I said, jr's first time submitting something to the podcast. I hope he submits again. It was really cool to get a perspective from a different country about kind of like a piece of folklore. That's the. The goal for this is to bring it all together. You can follow JR on Twitter at CC skeleton and of course we'll link everything in the description. He also has a few pieces of published work. If you want to check out his first published story, azul was featured on the first issue of the archive of the odds, pistolary horror by annual zine and we know what an epistolary.
Speaker 1:I was gonna say pop quiz. What does it mean, alan?
Speaker 2:It's when a story is told through a bunch of firsthand accounts.
Speaker 1:There you go, so we'll. We'll link that as well. He also has a story you will want me which is featured in the horror anthology the bathroom Coming later this year by the voices from the mausoleum. We'll also link that. And then, finally, a self-published short story collection Time is a temple, and that's available on Amazon.
Speaker 2:Love it.
Speaker 1:Oh, it's a really cool cover. Look at this It says time is a temple and other time killers time killers.
Speaker 2:Oh oh, oh, as in like to waste time to pass the time, not like a time.
Speaker 1:Well, it's a plan works.
Speaker 2:I'm not an inter, not not a fourth dimensional Murderous beast only one way to find out. Yeah, i'll, i'll read the book, it's a good deal. Don't think I won't Sorry. I'm currently reading Hyperion, which has a time-based murderous beast. It's very cool.
Speaker 1:Oh, that is cool. I also want to share a little bit about the local folklore that JR passed along to us. So he talked about how, in Portugal, that goblins are more of Iberic trolls and leprechauns. The Portuguese versions are lost to time, but there are products of oral traditions, which is a kind of similar to what we saw with the Japanese example as well. So JR set his story in Portugal and he pulls on some of the local and anglo notions of goblins here. Cool, yeah, very cool.
Speaker 2:I did like the mythos in this case.
Speaker 1:It seemed like we're getting into changeling territory, though and also a little bit like red cap territory, which is a sub type of goblin that we didn't spend enough time, probably talking about in part one.
Speaker 2:Do we talk about red caps in part one, or was that another episode?
Speaker 1:We've talked about them. I think in maybe this the the Celtic Fae episode. Yeah, yeah, yeah maybe briefly in part one, but Certainly worth a deeper dive at some point.
Speaker 2:It's a silly name for something that can be all murderous.
Speaker 1:Yeah, but also it's kind of the SID of something like what you expect to be a child dressed in this like very vivid red outfit. It's and then it turns out, you know it's. It's kind of like haunting for me that way, like something you expect to be so innocent, and then it's something different. And, of course, thank you so much to Christian, who brought this story to life. Alan, i've never met Christian, but he is a friend of yours, right.
Speaker 2:Yeah, we've actually worked together for a while. Now We work together on a different podcast.
Speaker 1:I'm I'm not a, i'm not a one podcast kind of guy Did you guys know you can listen to Alan on another podcast about a totally different topic You can.
Speaker 2:It's the rap drinks podcast Which is put out by shitty riggs friends of the pod rap drinks is available anywhere you listen to, is it? I don't even know. I don't do this part.
Speaker 1:We'll link rap drinks in the description, but yes, it's broadly available. You can also watch video episodes on YouTube huh. And Alan has an episode that he's in and it's, it's a hit.
Speaker 2:I'm on every episode.
Speaker 1:Yeah, but there's one where you are the guest.
Speaker 2:Yes, there's one where I am the focus.
Speaker 1:Yes, but my favorite regardless.
Speaker 2:I work with Christian on this podcast. He's a great guy. And then we start talking about lunatics and Christians and you know Christian is an incredible actor and we just had to get him on here. So a Wonderful first go and plenty more to come.
Speaker 1:Yeah, it's always fun when you're talking to someone You're like, oh, your passions align with my passions Perfect.
Speaker 2:Let's be passionate together.
Speaker 1:Oh, that's lovely a great way to end stupid, don't, oh god? a great way to end the goblin series. At the end of the day, the things I want everyone to take from the series are one that cats our goblins and two that we should all be passionate together. Do you agree?
Speaker 2:All right, well, thank you so much for listening. This has been the end of our goblin series and we'll see you Next time on another topic.
Speaker 1:There you go, bye everybody.