You're listening to the new Mutual Audio Network. Welcome home. The following audio drama is rated PG for Parental Guidance. [Music] Good morning as we continue to welcome 2021 with this our second podcast of the year. I'm Jack Ward with David Alt and this is the Sonic Society, the world's greatest showcase of modern audio drama. As always, I am but the Watson to the true audio homes, Mr. David Alt. How are you, David? Very well. Thank you and good morning everyone. So this week we are in a bit of a tight bind as usual with two great features including Tom Rory Parsons' take on an MR James Tale Lost Hearts, followed up by our old friends Neon Knights and their Christmas Special, or better late than never, from Will Snyder. And both features begin right here. On the Sonic Society. [Music] It was, as far as I can ascertain, in August of the year 1812, that a post-chase drew up before the door of Azabi Hall in the heart of Lincolnshire. The little boy who was the only passenger in the chase and who jumped out as soon as it had stopped looked about him with the keenest curiosity during the short interval that elapsed between the ringing of the bell and the opening of the hall door. He saw a tall square red brick house built in the rain of Anne. The windows of the house were many tall and narrow with small pains and thick white woodwork. There were wings to right and left and they plainly contained the stables and offices of the house. Each was surmounted by an ornamental cupola with a gilded vein. It was altogether a pleasant impression. That was conveyed to the mind of the boy who was standing in the porch waiting for the door to open to him. Is that him? Is that the boy? Yes, sir. And all the way from Warix or two fetched the poor laddian parks. I must ask you again, sir, if this is, after all, a sound idea. Sound idea? What are you bringing such a boy into this house, sir? He's an orphan. We don't know him. Who would say what kind of trouble he might cause for you? Why parks? The boy is a relation. He's my cousin twice removed. Was I to leave him in that asylum in Warix, sir, eh? No, sir, but what's done is done parks and we must make the best of it. Yes, now, fetch the boy in, bring him to me in my study. Mr. Jebediah Abney, the owner and chief resident of Azabi Hall, the tall, the thin, the austere, was inclined to give his young cousin a kindly reception. The moment the front door was opened, he forgot his order to parks and darted out of the study, rubbing his hands with the light. How are you, my boy? How are you? I don't suppose you'll remember me, eh? No, sir. Why, I'm your cousin, your cousin Jedediah, Jedediah Abney. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, sir. My name is Steven Ellington. Oh, splendid lad, such nice manners they teach you up in Warix, so how old are you? That is, you're not too much tired, I hope by your journey to eat your supper. Thank you, sir, now I'm pretty well. That's a good lad, and how old are you, my boy? I'm 12 years old, next birthday, sir. And when is your birthday, my dear boy? 31st of October, eh? That's well, that's very well. Nearly two months hence, isn't it? I like, I like to get these things just down in my book. Sure as 12 are you, certain? Yes, quite sure, sir. Well, well, take him to Mrs Bunch's room parks and let him have his tea and supper, whatever it is. Yeah, sir. You come with me, Master Steven. Mrs Bunch was the most comfortable and human person which Steven had yet met at Asby Hall. She made him completely at home. They were great friends in a quarter of an hour, and great friends, they remained. I was born right here in the neighbourhood, Master Steven, and I've worked for Mr Abner 20 years. Now, if anybody knows the ins and outs of this district, and especially this house, it's me. So you feel free to ask me anything, dear. The boy took this over to heart as time went by. Certainly there were plenty of things about the hall and the hall gardens within the, which the adventurous Steven was anxious to have explained to him. Who built the temple at the end of the lower walk? Who was the old man whose picture hung on the staircase, sitting at the table, with a skull under his hand? These and many similar points were cleared up by the resources of Mrs Bunch's powerful intellect. There were others, however, of which the explanations furnished were less such as factory. Is Mr Abner a good man, and will he go to heaven? Good. Oh, bless the child. Oh, yeah, masters as kind a soul as ever I see. Didn't I never tell you? The little boy as he took in out of the street, as you might say, this seven years back, and the little girl, two years after a first come here. Now, do you tell me all about them, Mrs Bunch? Now, this minute. Well, the little girl I don't seem to recollect so much about. I know Mr Abner brought her back with him from his walk one day and give orders to Mrs Alice, as was housekeeper, then, as she should be, took every care with. And the poor child, I don't know, one belonging to her. No, she told me so her own self. And, yeah, and here she lived with us a matter of three weeks, it might be. And then, whether she were something of her gypsy in her blood or whatnot, but how come on in? She got out of her bed, before any of us had opened her eye, and neither track nor yet trace of her revised eyes on sense. Her master was wonderful put about, and at all the ponds dragged, but, well, it's my belief, she was out of way with by them gypsies. But there was singing around the house for as much as an hour the night she went and parked, where he declared as he heard them a calling in the woods all that afternoon. Dear dear, the hot child she was, so silent in her ways and all, but I was wonderful taken with her, so domesticated she was, surprising. And what's about the little boy? Oh, that poor boy. He were a foreigner, Giovanni he called herself, and he came out tweaking his early girdy round and about the drive one went today, and master had him in that minute, and asked all about where it came from, how old he was, how old he made his way, where was his relatives, all his kind, his heart, good wish, but I went the same way with him. They were unruly lot, then foreign nations, I do suppose. He was off one fine morning just the same as a girl. You know, he went and what he'd done was our question for as much as a year after. Is that his heardy girdy on the high shelf? Oh, I. Why didn't he take it with him? Now, Stephen, how much do you know about the sciences? The scientists, sir? Yes. Mathematics, astronomy, spontaneous generation, chemistry, alchemy. Nothing at all, sir. Oh, my dear boy, how dreadful. Well, we shall endeavor to instill in you some scientific education. Now then, what do you know about religion? I know that I'm a sinner and not only the blood of Jesus Christ can see me from eternal domination. Yes, yes, yes, yes. It seems as if you've been getting some religious upbringing. Anything else? Sir? Any other religions? Have you? There are tens of thousands of other religions, my boy, most of which are hundreds of centuries older than Christianity. Here, lad, here. You see these books? Gays are the titles, books bearing on the mysteries, the awful poems, the worship of Mithras, the neo-platonists. Why, have you know that the Cambridge professor of Greek once remarked that no one knew more about the religious beliefs of the later pagans than I? Yes, sir. I just wish there was enough time to teach you these things. Well, what if there be, sir? What's that you brought in here? It's a herdy goaty, sir. This is a bunch that I could have it. I've been trying to teach myself how to play. Herdy goaty, eh? Yes, well, we'll take it outside, my boy. There's a good lad. Oh, my word, Master Stephen. What a horrid dream you had. I haven't told you everything yet. Oh, well, wait till I sit down. It was so real to me, I was walking to the end of the passage outside my bedroom where the old bathroom is. The door was locked as it is in real life, and I found myself looking through the place window in the upper half of the door. The moon was shining through the outside window, and I could make out a figure which will end the bath. On the second figure, pushed atop a short stool alongside the bath. The skin of both was the pull-up lad. They were very thin and pathetic. Their lips were stretched into a dreadful smile, and their hearts were pressed tightly over the heart. As I looked in, I could hear a distant moan coming from their lips. And then, oh, and then, and then, the eyes opened. And then what looked at me? One was a boy about my age. The other a girl, a little older. Their smiles go wider and more hideous. He just put a four finger to the lips, and it's a signal in me to be quiet. They removed their other hands from their chest and showed me their empty ribcages. They had no hearts. They'd been removed. Am I a word? What happened next? Well, then, then I awoke. No, you poor dear. I'm bad. No. The sight of those two children was their empty chest forced me to step back in shock, and I walked to find myself actually standing in the passage outside the bathroom. Oh, my. Oh, oh, oh. And I couldn't help myself. I stepped up to the little glazed window and looked through again. And there was nothing there. Nobody, I mean. Just as it should be, Master Stephen. Ah! I must make my way upstairs later in a place, the little Muslim curtain that used to hang over that little window. Have you told the master about your dream? Yes. I told him at breakfast. He said he was greatly interested and made many notes in his book. Mrs. Bunch? Yes, Master Stephen. I think, I think I've seen those two before. The boy and the girl. Where? In different places. I was walking along a park that let him do little cups of trees and hear the sound, like someone whispering, "Hi!" I turned in the direction of the sound and saw two figures running away. I chased after them, but they disappeared. It's me. Another time, Mr. Abnew showing me some unusual plants you've been growing in a little plot behind the left wing. I heard that same sound but high up. I looked into our two faces in the window. Oh, my dear, now. Don't tell me any more about it. What do you think they are, Mrs. Bunch? Oh, and why did they both have such long fingernails? Sauron is coming, Stephen. Sauron, this time of year, has always been considered a critical time for the young by the ancients. What is Sauron, Mr. Abnew? It's the end of summer, the time of harvest, the beginning of the Black part of the year. And, of course, it coincides exactly with your past day, October 31st. You, my good lad, will do well to take care of yourself, shut your bedroom window at night, and read the valuable remarks that Censorinus wrote on the subjects. Two incidents occurred about this time that made an impression upon Stephen's mind. The first was after an unusually uneasy and oppressed night that he had passed. Though he could not recall any particular dream he'd had. The second was on the following evening. Mrs. Bunch was occupying herself, amending his nightgown. Gracious me, Master Stephen, out you've managed to tear your nitress all to flinders this way. Look here, sir, what trouble you do give to poor servants that must down and mend after you. There was, indeed, a most destructive and apparently wanton series of slits or scoreings in the garment, which would undoubtedly require a skillful needle to make good. They were confined to the left side of the chest, long parallel slits about six inches in length. Some of them, not quite piercing the texture of the linen. Stephen could only express his entire ignorance of their origin. He was sure they were not there the night before. But Mrs. Bunch, they're just the same as the scratches on the outside of my bedroom door, and I'm sure I never had anything to do with making them. Mrs. Bunch gazed at him, open mouth, then snatched up a candle, departed hastily from the room, and was heard making her way upstairs. In a few minutes she came down. Well, Mr. Stephen, it's a funny thing to me how their marks and scratches going to come there. Too high up for any cat or dog to have made them, much less a rat. For all the world, like a Chinaman's fingernails, as my uncle in a tea-trade used to tell us off when he was girls together. I wouldn't say nothing to master, though. Not if I was you, Master Stephen, my dear. And, uh, wow, just turn the key of the door when you go to your bed, won't you? I always do, Mrs. Bunch, as soon as I've said my prayers. Oh, that's a good child. Always say your prayers, and then no one can't hurt, yeah. All right, my dear, let me get back to my mending so you can get to bed at a decent hour. Oh, good evening, Mr. Parks. What brings you to my pantry? Master may get up his own wine if he likes of an evening. Either I do it in the daytime or not at all, Mrs. Bunch. I don't know what it may be. It was very like it's the rats, or the wind got into the cellos. Yeah, but I'm not so young as I was, and I can't go through it as I have done. Well, Mr. Parks, you know it is a surprising place for the rats as we haul. All I'm not denying that, Mrs. Bunch, and to be sure, in many a time I've heard a tale from the men in the shipyards about the rat that could speak. I've never laid no confidence in that before. But tonight, if I demean myself to lay my ear to the door of the further bin, I could pretty much have heard what they were saying. Oh, there, Mr. Parks, and not patience with your fancies, rats talking in the wine cellar indeed. Well, Mrs. Bunch, I have no wish to argue with you. All I say is, if you choose to go to the far bin and lay your ear to the door, may prove my words this minute. Nonsense, you do talk, Mr. Parks. Not fit for children to listen to. You'll be frightening, Mr. Stephen, they're out of his wits. Mr. Stephen, I didn't see him before. And, Mr. Stephen knows, knows well enough when I'm playing a joke with you, Mrs. Bunch. I returned my quarters. Good night. But, Mr. Parks, what did the voices sound like? Could you make out any words? Did you see anything? Mr. Parks? Mr. Parks? We have now arrived at October 31st, 1812. It was so in, and the boy's twelfth birthday. It was also a day of curious experiences for Stephen, a windy, noisy, restless day. As Stephen stood by the fence of the grounds and looked out into the park, he felt as if an endless procession of unseen people were sweeping past him on the wind, vainly striving to stop themselves, to catch at something that might bring them, once again, into living world. After lunch in that day, Mr. Abney said... Stephen, my boy, do you think you could manage to come to me tonight as late as 11 o'clock in my study? I shall be busy until that time, and I wish to show you something connected with your future life, which is most important that you should know. You are not to mention this matter to Mrs. Bunch, nor to anyone else in the house, and you would better go to your room at the usual time. 11 o'clock? Oh yes, Mr. Abney. I shall be happy to meet you at that time. 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Stephen was found next morning asleep on the couch in the study. He told Mr. Parks that he could not remember anything that had happened the previous evening. Mr. Abney was found in his chair, his head thrown back, his face stamped with an expression of rage, fright, and mortal pain. In his left side was a terrible lacerated wound, exposing the heart. There was no blood on his hands, and a long knife that lay on the table was perfectly clean. The window of the study was open, and it was the opinion of the coroner that Mr. Abney had met his death by the agency of some wild creature, but Stephen Eliot, after he grew old enough to understand, drew a very different conclusion. You've been listening to Lost Hearts by M.R. James. It starred Austin Mosher as Stephen, Pete Lutz as Mr. Abney, Sarah Golding as Mrs. Bunch, and the narrator, and Jason D. Johnson as Mr. Parks. Tom Rory Parsons was the producer, composer, director, and sound designer, thanks to Rachel Peebles for creating the fantastic cover art, and special thanks to Austin's father, Scott Mosher. This is C.K. Standard Speaking, Lost Hearts by M.R. James, was originally published in 1895, and was adapted specially for this production by Pete Lutz. Welcome to Neon City, where the lights are bright, but darkness looms, where Detective Jack Tracer spends his evenings investigating the strange, eerie, and unknown. What secrets lay hidden just beyond the street lamps? Find out on Neon Nights, the arcane files of Jack Tracer. ♪♪ ♪♪ ♪♪ Christmas, a time of celebration and merriment, exchanging gifts with loved ones, sipping cider in front of a warm fireplace, and singing carols until the wee hours of the night, a night where so many celebrate the love of their family and friends that enrich their lives. But for Jack Tracer, it's just another lonely night, in another dingy bar, sipping cheap whiskey while trying to forget the past. This particular Christmas Eve, Jack found the bar empty, except for one lone stranger. ♪♪ You know, I hoped I'd be alone here tonight. It's been an interesting few weeks, and I was playing a quiet evening of fogging up my brain. But I gotta say, it's nice to have some company for a change. Cheers. ♪♪ Ah, Christmas. You know, it used to be one of my favorite holidays. No matter how screwed up life was, it was the one day a person could feel safe and loved. What changed that? Well, that's a hell of a story. One, you're probably not gonna believe. But since I'm four whiskeys deep and I don't have much to care about these days, I'll tell you. I'm a detective, you see. A detective who always finds himself dealing with out of the ordinary cases. They seem to stick to me like a wad of gum on the bottom of an old shoe. And sometimes, they stick a little too hard. ♪♪ It was December 23rd, and I had recently left the police department and struck out on my own as a private detective. It was the first Christmas in my new office, and I was putting the finishing touches on my holiday decorations when there was a knock on my door. ♪♪ It's open. Hello? Are you Jack Tracer, the detective? I am. My name is Jacob, and I need your help. Well, then you're in the right place. Come in, have a seat. All right, kid, what seems to be the issue? It's kind of hard to believe. I haven't seen a few things in my day, so why don't you try me? I want you to find a monster. A monster? Yes, sir. Want me to find a monster? Yes. All right, kid, who puts you up to this? No one. Was the guys down at the precinct? The precinct? Well, thanks for stopping by. As you can see, I'm a busy guy, and I've got a lot on my plate. Wait, Mr. Tracer, the children at the orphanage are in danger. Easy, kid, they ain't no joke or matter. There's no joke, someone, something is taking them. All right, slow down. Tell me exactly what is going on. I was eight years old when my parents were killed in the car accident. I didn't have any other family that could take care of me, so they sent me to the Greenbrier home for lost souls. I was so nervous, I had never been away from home before. The men from the state dropped me off and left me with Mother Superior. She runs the orphanage. She was scary at first, but the longer I was there, I realized how well she took care of us. We were always well fed, and we had plenty of play time between our studies. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Tell my first Christmas there. I noticed that all the kids were acting weird. Not like in the "you won't get any presents from Santa" sort of way that most kids get before Christmas. It was more like they were scared when I asked why they told me it was because of the Krampus. The Krampus? What the hell is a Krampus? He's like the mean Santa. He's a big hairy monster with giant claws and horns like a goat. Mother Superior said he steals boys and girls who have been bad. He throws them in a big sack and drags them into the woods. Kid, that sounds like the kind of crap the adults feed the kids to keep them straight. I thought it was silly too. Until Sid. Who's Sid? Sid was the new kid at the orphanage. He was older than most of us and me too. He was only there for a couple of days when he started bullying and pushing everyone around. One night, Mother Superior caught him holding your kids head in the toilet. She gave him the paddle and locked him in his room. Swirly, huh? That's rough. Later that night, after everyone had gone to sleep, I heard a noise in the hallway. I peeped out and saw Sid's door was cracked open. I snuck into his room, but Sid was gone. When I walked over to his bed, I saw claw marks on his bed posts and a big clump of black hair on the floor. Before I could scream for help, there was a noise outside. I ran to the window and saw what looked like a big animal going into the woods. It was dragging something behind it. Thank you, Sid. I was so scared, I ran back to my room and hid under my covers. I didn't sleep at all. The next morning, I told Mother Superior what I saw and she told me I probably had a nightmare and that Sid had been taken to another orphanage because of his behavior. Then she sent me on my way. I think I'll have to go along with Mother Superior on this one. Now, if you'll excuse me. It wasn't a dream, it was real. And Sid wasn't the only one. What do you mean? After Sid, other kids started disappearing too. Year after year, all taken in the middle of the night. It was the Krampus, I know it was. I rode and called the police, but no one would believe me. I finally turned 18 last week and could go out on my own. And now, I'm looking for some help so other kids don't get hurt. The police still think I'm crazy and that's when I found your name in the phone book. Please, Mr. Tracer, those kids need your help. All right, kid. Let's say I believe you enough to take this case. How the hell do you expect to pay me? I doubt you have a job and I'm pretty sure you can't pay my bills with pocket-lint and finger toys. Once I turned 18, I was able to collect my inheritance from my parents, so I have some money. I could pay you $200. Please, just go to the orphanage and check it out. It's so close to Christmas. There's no telling how many of the children have been taken. So, headed out to the orphanage. I sure as hell didn't believe it to upload about a Krampus, but if something was happened to these kids and they were disappearing, something needed to be done. Besides, rent was due and I was low on cash. It was almost dawn when I pulled down the gravel drive at the Greenbrier home for lost souls. There was no mansion about an hour or so outside the city. I looked a little run down, but it wasn't nothing, a little paint and a good landscaper couldn't fix. I knew I couldn't just announce I was a detective, and the slim chance something wasn't on the level, I get nowhere fast. Luckily for me, this wasn't my first rodeo. ♪ Standing in the doorway was one of the biggest men I had ever seen. He had to duck down when he stepped onto the porch and was as wide as a truck. You could show a movie on this guy's forehead. The way he stared at me with those dead eyes and slack jaw, I could tell that this one was a few cards short of a full deck. ♪ Where is the door? Excuse me? Who are you? Oh, I'm uh, I'm Jack Tracer with the State Inspections Office. Mother superior, say nothing about inspection. It's our annual surprise inspection. I know like surprises. Dita, who is it? Inspector here. Oh, Guten Tag, I am Mother Superior, maybe help you. Good evening, I'm Jack Tracer with the State Inspections Office. I'm here to conduct the annual surprise inspection. Surprise inspection, but we've never had one of those. It's something new the state is doing. You should have received the letter about it. I never received such a letter. Do you have any paperwork? Oh, yes ma'am. Here you go. Hmm. Well, it seems everything is in order. Dita, please make sure everything is prepared for dinner. Unso order daikinde? Unso. Ja, mother over. Now, here Tracer, follow me. I was glad to see that I hadn't lost my touch in forging documents. When you're undercover, that bit can go sideways real fast. We started with the tour of the house. Mother Superior was surprisingly cordial and welcoming. She was one of those women who had a tough exterior, but gave off the kind of soothing warmth that made you want to hug your grandmother. Not sure how that kid girl thought that she was up to something. So far, I hadn't seen anything that seemed off. Except maybe that skyscraper that answered the door. We were wrapping up the tour of the kid's rooms when a scream echoed in the hallway. Stop it, Randall! Stop it! Randall, that is enough. Take off that horrid mask and leave Amanda alone. I didn't mean nothing, but I was just playing. What have I told you about being a bad boy this close to Christmas? If I'm bad, the Krampus will get me. That's right. He'll come right out of those woods and take you away in his sack. The Krampus? You are familiar. It's the Krampus, here, Tracer. I've heard a little bit about it. Don't you think it's a bit much for these kids? It's no different than telling them Santa Claus is real. And then you have this many children to care for. You take all of the help you can to keep them in line. Now, Amanda, please go clean up for dinner. Randall, you come with me. Please excuse me, Tracer. I will be back in a moment. Let's go, Randall. Amanda, huh? I'm Jack. Hi. You don't believe in all this Krampus stuff, do you? Oh, he's real, mister. He's big and scary, and he's real. Have you ever seen it? A few nights ago. I saw it out my window. It took Stephanie from down the hall. Can you show me to her room? Yeah, come on. That one was her bet. I wasn't even sure what I was looking for. So far, this case was going nowhere fast. If anything actually happened, a whole week had passed and any evidence would be long gone. But since I was there, I thought it couldn't hurt to give it a quick once over. I had to hurry before Mother Superior came back. Nothing seems suspicious until I flipped back the sheets. There, snagged on a chip in the bed frame. It was a long, dark, coarse hair. Amanda, what color hair does Stephanie have? Blonde? Why? Catch Tracer. What are you doing in here? Oh, um, Amanda was just helping me out with the tour. Amanda? I thought I told you to get cleaned up for dinner. Yes, Mother Superior. Goodbye, Mr. Jack. Well, I think that just about does it for the tour. Everything seems to be up to code. I'll just need to double check your most recent records and then I can be on my way. Is that necessary? I do have to finish preparing for dinner. Unfortunately, it is. It shouldn't take long. Very well. Follow me. Here we are. You will find what you need in this filing cabinet. Thank you. Now, if you don't mind, I need to check in Medita. Take your time. I should be able to manage on my own. You can find me downstairs once you are finished. We'll do. I started sifting to the records. Everything there was in order down to the letter. I was close to calling this case a bust. When I started to notice a strange pattern, throughout the year, there may have been one adoption or transfer to tops. But once it hit December, they came more frequently. Just about one a week. That's a lot in the month. And that just didn't sit right in my gut. I tried it down the names of most of the recent adoptive parents and the orphanage where the kids were transferred to. It wouldn't hurt to do a little more digging. As headed back downstairs to meet with a superior, I ran into Amanda going to dinner. Amanda, here, let me walk you down. You don't believe me about the Krampus studio. Well, I'm not sure about any Harry monsters, but maybe something weird going on. Say, would you like to help me? Help you. How? Can you keep a secret? I'm real good at secrets. Good. I'm not really an inspector. I'm a private detective that was hired by a kid named Jacob to come check out the place. You know Jacob? He used to take care of me when he lived here. Seems like the type. All right, Amanda. I'm here by naming you my junior detective. Here, take this. It's a long-distance, two-way transmitter. Just push the button on the side and talk into this part. And I'll be able to hear you on my end. You can report in if you see anything strange. Thanks, Mr. Jack. I hope I don't have to use it. Same here. Now, off to dinner with you. Did you find everything you need? Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! Oh, snuck up on me. Um, I did? Uh, everything looks to be in order. If anything comes up, I'll be in touch. Very well? Our feet are set in here, Tracer. Un, Merry Christmas. And they made Christmas to you. I stood a few connections down at the precinct that could look into these records for me. But it was late by the time I got back to Neon City, and they had already punched out. I was gonna have to wait until morning. My stomach was growling like a rabid dog, so I grabbed a quick bite, threw back a couple of whiskies at the smoky cat, and went back to my office to grab a couple of winks. I had just dosed off when. Oh, what the hell? Hold it, Chum. Mr. Tracer, it's me, Jacob. Jesus, kid. What the hell were you thinking? That's a good way to get one in the head. I'm sorry. Haven't you ever heard of knocking? Mr. Tracer? Who's kid this? Shit, Mr. Tracer! What? Could you please put the gun down? Oh. Sorry. Now, what the hell are you doing here? What did you find out at the orphanage? Do you believe me about the Krampus? Calm down. We're gonna case ain't that easy. You don't just walk into a place and find out everything you need, it takes time. But there isn't any time. I'm working on it. I have a few weak leads to look into tomorrow, and a set of eyes on the inside. A set of eyes? Some kid named Amanda. You saw Amanda? Is she okay? Easy. Look, kid, I hate to say it, but I think this whole thing may be in your head. Outside of some strange records and a piece of hair, there's not much to go on. So unless something big happens, I think this may be a bust. Mr. Jack, Mr. Jack, it's here. I need you help. Amanda? Amanda? Damn it. We've got to get out there. You're right, except for the we part. You're staying here. I don't need you getting in the way. Everything. I have to make sure Amanda is safe. Besides, I know that place like the back of my hand, I can help you get in. You need me. Shit. All right, kid, let's go. I had the gas pedal through the floorboard, heading out to the orphanage. It was going to take some time to get there, the time I hoped we had. We didn't even know if anything was happening. This kid could have gotten freaked out by a shadow or a tree branch scraping on the window, but I couldn't live with myself if something did happen. We eased partway down the drive in Kelba Lights. The place was pretty dark, and I didn't see any movement. We just needed to get in to check on Amanda. If she's fine, then we leave, and no one would be the wiser. Okay, kid, this part's yours. How do we get in? There's an old secret underground passage just through those trees. It leads to a trap door in the basement. A trap door in the basement? You've got to be able to do some shady stuff or something like that. The basement door's near the stairs, so we should be able to get up there pretty quickly. All right, let's do this. All right, which one's Amanda's? That one there. Okay, stay behind me. Amanda? Nothing. I checked the closet and under the bed, and Amanda was nowhere to be found. And that's when I saw it. Here, the same as I found on Stephanie's bed, but this time in a clump laying next to some muddy footprints. And they were big, and looked kind of like a... like a hoof. What the hell is going on here? Mr. Tracer, look! There's a glow out in the woods. That's it. That's where it took Sid. Okay, you stay here, in case a man that comes back, but stay out of sight. Remember, we broke in, and last time I checked, that's still a crime. I didn't have time to go back the way we came, so I took a chance and stepped out the back door. Little ways into the yard. I found more of those footprints. When you know it, they were leading directly toward the glow in the woods. This just officially got fucked up. I quickly moved to the brush as the glow grew brighter. Judging through the mud and wet trees is not the way I expected the holiday to go. I finally came upon a clearing with a fire in the center. Next to the fire was a long table, and on it a few lengths of rope. A cleaver, and a bunch of small jars. Something told me I was about to earn that $200. Just past the table were a bunch of small cages. And said one of them was Amanda. I was about to creep over to let her out when I saw something come out of the tree light from across the clearing. I couldn't believe my eyes. It was the Krampus. Its hoved feet slashed the mud toward the cages. It stood looming over the cages as its hot breath steamed in the cold air. I had to do something and do it quick. I slid my gun out of the holster and was pulling back the hammer when... I came to the wall was a blur. I tried to stand but realized that my hands had been tied together and secured to a stake in the ground behind me. I raised my head to see where I was. There, right in front of me, stood the Krampus. Its face looked like a cross of a human and some sort of goat. With twisting horns jutting from his forehead. And its breath smelled like a locker room that had been filled with manure. Well, aren't you an ugly son of a bitch? That is quite enough of that. Couldn't hog hair tracer. You've got to be shitting me. I assure you hair tracer, no one is shitting you. Jacob was right about the Krampus but... But you? Where the hell did you find that thing? Ah yes. I don't think you'll be needing that anymore. You can take that off now, Dieter. What the hell is going on here? You see here tracer. Dieter and I are one of the last of our kind. The Krampus is real. And we are the keepers of its soul. We keep it safe. For you see, the Krampus is so much more than the stories you've heard. He's more than a punishment for bad little boys and girls. He is man's punishment. Punishment for the evils that humankind has bestowed on this earth. With our help, he will arise and bring judgment to this world. The earth as we know it. With all its sins will be scorched. And a new way of life will be born. The Krampus will bring this world back to nature, where he will rule as king. And we shall rule by his side. You are seriously one disturbed lady. But why take the kids? He requires a sacrifice in his name. A sacrifice that comes in the form of a feast. A feast. Oh God. You're eating them. 'Tis the season. You sick bastards. I should thank you. We were having a hard time deciding between Randall and Amanda for tonight's festivities. But since you showed up today poking your nose around and recruiting Amanda for help, we decided to text him both. Randy, where is he? I'm sorry. But you just missed our main course. We saved little Amanda for dessert. You psycho. Now, if you will excuse us, I believe I am ready for seconds. Let her go and take me instead. Oh, head Tracer. I wouldn't deprive you of missing this. Dita is quite graceful when it comes to dressing a child. It's remarkable to watch. Mr. Jack, help! When the superior turned and crossed the table as Dita dragged the screaming Amanda out of her cage, the bastards threw her hard onto the table and started strapping her down. I had to think. I had to get out of these ropes somehow and I had to do it fast. I tried losing the steak on the ground with a giant son of a bitch strove it in deep. It wasn't budging. I was losing time and fast. That's when I felt a hand grab my wrists. Hold still. Jacob, I thought I told you to stay put. Lucky for you, I didn't listen. Here, I'll cut you loose. Thanks. I hate me that log. Huh? I don't open her. Oh! Jack! Hey, Krappus. Huh? You just made the naughty list. Oh shit, the fire! The fire! And to all, a good night. Jacob, are you hurt? No, I'm okay. Mr. Jack! Hold still. I'll cut you loose. Thank you, Mr. Jack. You saved me. Come on. Let's get you back to the house. I told the police everything, and they looked at me like I had just escaped the loony bin. They didn't come around until I took them to the clearing in the woods. It didn't take long to find the remains of the missing kids in a shallow grave nearby. The sergeant assured me that his officers would stay at the orphanage until a replacement for psycho superior could be brought in. Amanda and Jacob were standing on the porch as I head toward my car. Are you leaving, Mr. Jack? I think I've had enough of this holiday spirit for one day. You know, you make one hell of a junior detective. Hmm. Here's your radio back. Keep it. Give me a shout if you ever need anything. Thank you, Mr. Jack. For everything. Jacob, are you ready to head back? Actually, Mr. Tracer, I think I'm going to stay here tonight. I want to keep an eye on Amanda and the others. So yourself? Oh, and Mr. Tracer? Yeah? Here's your money. Keep it. Consider it a donation to the Greenbrier Home for Lost Souls. Make sure they have a good holiday. Merry Christmas, kid. You know it's funny. Funny how a dead case can get full bards so quickly. One minute, you're hanging garland, making merry in your office. And the next, you're fighting a cannibal cult out in the woods. Life really knows how to stick it to you sometimes. So I was getting in the car. I turned to give Amanda and Jacob one last wave goodbye. And there, in the field, I saw something moving through the moonlight. It was big. Like, like really big. And I could see the silhouette of horns? No, it couldn't be. It stopped at the edge of the tree line and turned back around. I rubbed my eyes to get a clear look, but when I looked back, it was gone. I chalked it up to a combination of exhaustion and possible concussion. And headed back to neon city. And well, Christmas just wasn't the same after that year. Every twinkling light, every caroler, every ornament took me back to that night. If I only believed them, maybe I could have done more. Maybe I could have done something sooner. Maybe that kid ran, he would still be alive. Anyway, that's why I always be in a place like this on Christmas. Just trying to forget. Well, I guess there's always next year. Well, I should be going. I need to get some rest. I got to keep my strength up if I'm ever going to find my way back home. But that's a story for a different time. Thanks for listening, friend. And Merry Christmas. ♪ Neon Knights, the arcane files of Jack Tracer, was co-created by Will Snyder and Rachel Craig, and is an evil kitten production. The episode "The Case of the Krampus" was written by Kevin Alves. The theme song is done by Daniel Carl, with additional music by Kevin McLeod, and Dr. Saxlove. Jack Tracer is played by Will Snyder. Jacob was played by Spencer Davis. Mother Superior is played by Amanda Foreman. Deeter is played by Anthony Genovese. Amanda is played by Rebecca Wolf, and Randy is played by Ellie and Tobias. Please visit us on Facebook at facebook.com/neonnightspodcast. You can also follow us on Twitter @Jack_Tracer. If you listen to us on iTunes, please give us a five-star rating and a review. We'd love to hear your feedback. And finally, if you love the show, help us grow by sharing and subscribing to Neon Knights. Thank you for listening. And that's this week's show. Please check the show notes for links for both shows this week at sonicsociety.org. Join us next week as we continue with some more wintery jazz. It's music to my ears. Thanks for listening, everyone. I'm Jack Ward. And I'm David Alt. See you next Sunday. Bye now. Oh, by the way, Jack, John Bell wanted me to pick a bone with you. We'll have to talk next week. Thanks so much. [MUSIC] The Sonic Society is written and produced weekly by Jack J. Ward and David Alt, with original music by Sharon B. at SharonB.com. All features, interviews and audio drama shorts are owned completely by their originators and provided to the Sonic Society by Creative Commons Licensing. The society itself originates from Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada. Thanks for listening. [MUSIC] This has been an electric bikuna production. (gentle music)
