 Stories and content and weird darkness can be disturbing for some listeners and is intended for mature audiences only. Parental discretion is strongly advised. Gone from my sight, or parable of immortality, a poem by Luther F. Beecher. I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength, and I stand and watch her until she hangs like a speck of white cloud, just where the sea and sky come down to meet and mingle with each other. Then someone at my side says, there she's gone. Gone where? Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mass and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and just is able to bear her load of living freight to the place of her destination. Her diminished size is in me and not in her. And just at that moment when someone at my side says, there she's gone, there are other eyes that are watching for her coming and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, there she comes. And that is dying, often attributed to Henry Van Dyke. Welcome, Weirdos. I'm Darren Marlar and this is Weird Darkness. Here you'll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore, the strange and bizarre, crime, conspiracy, mysterious, macabre, unsolved and unexplained. The Last Voyage of Demeter is an extract from the most terrifying vampire fiction in literary history, Bram Stoker's Dracula from 1897. The thrilling novel is a gothic horror classic written in epistolar reform through a series of journal entries, newspaper articles and correspondence. This is the book's suspenseful chapter 7, delving into the final sea voyage of Demeter, the Russian ship unknowingly carrying Transylvania's undead Count Dracula. When a ghost ship arrives in Whitby Harbor, the locals search for clues about how the doomed vessels crew vanished. Soon the captain's log is discovered, but the translated correspondence does nothing more than strike terror in the hearts of all who read it. Weeks before its final destination, strange and supernatural events began haunting the ship. The captain started keeping a log to record the death, darkness and fear that had taken a hold of his crew. Of course, The Last Voyage of the Demeter was also recently made into a film, but we're working from the original writings of Bram Stoker here, not a movie script. If you're new here, welcome to the show. While you're listening, be sure to check out WeirdDarkness.com for merchandise, to visit sponsors you hear about during the show, sign up for my newsletter, and our contests. Connect with me on social media. Plus, you can visit the Hope in the Darkness page if you're struggling with depression or dark thoughts. You can find all of that and more at WeirdDarkness.com. Now, fold your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights, and come with me into the Weird Darkness from a correspondent, Whitby. One of the greatest and suddenest storms on record has just been experienced here, with results both strange and unique. The weather had been somewhat sultry, but not to any degree uncommon in the month of August. Saturday evening was as fine as was ever known, and the great body of holidaymakers laid out yesterday for visits to Mowgrave Woods, Robin Hood's Bay, Rick Mill, Runswick, States, and the various trips in the neighborhood of Whitby. The steamers, Emma and Scarborough, made trips up and down the coast, and there was an unusual amount of tripping both to and from Whitby. The day was unusually fine until the afternoon when some of the gossips who frequent the East Cliff Churchyard and from that commanding eminence watched the wide sweep of sea visible to the north and east, called attention to a sudden show of mares' tails high in the sky to the northwest. The wind was then blowing from the southwest in the mild degree which in barometrical language is ranked number two light breeze. The Coast Guard on duty at once made report, and one old fisherman who for more than half a century has kept watch on weather signs from the East Cliff foretold in an emphatic manner the coming of a sudden storm. The approach of sunset was so very beautiful, so grand in its masses of splendidly colored clouds that there was quite an assemblage on the walk along the cliff in the old churchyard to enjoy the beauty. Before the sun dipped below the black mass of kettle-ness, standing boldly a thwart the western sky, its downward way was marked by myriad clouds of every sunset color, flame, purple, pink, green, violet, and all the tints of gold, with here and there masses not large but of seemingly absolute blackness in all sorts of shapes, as well as outlined as colossal silhouettes. The experience was not lost on the painters, and doubtless some of the sketches of the prelude to the great storm will grace the RA and RI walls in May next. More than one captain made up his mind then and there that his cobble or his mule as they termed the different classes of boats would remain in the harbor till the storm had passed. The wind fell away entirely during the evening, and at midnight there was a dead calm, a sultry heat, and that prevailing intensity, which on the approach of thunder, affects persons of a sensitive nature. There were but few lights in sight at the sea, or even the coasting steamers which usually hug the shore so closely kept well to seaward, and but few fishing boats were in sight. The only sail noticeable was a foreign schooner with all sails set, which was seemingly going westwards. The foolhardiness or ignorance of her officers was a prolific theme for comment whilst she remained in sight, and efforts were made to signal her to reduce sail in face of her danger. Before the night shut down, she was seen with sails idly flapping as she gently rolled on the undulating swell of the sea, as idle as they painted ship upon a painted ocean. Shortly before ten o'clock, the stillness of the air grew quite oppressive, and the silence was so marked that the bleeding of a sheep inland or the barking of a dog in the town was distinctly heard, and the band on the pier with its lively French air was like a discord in the great harmony of nature's silence. A little after midnight came a strange sound from over the sea and high overhead the air began to carry a strange, faint hollow booming. Then, without warning, the tempest broke. With a rapidity which at the time seemed incredible and even afterwards is impossible to realize, the whole aspect of nature at once became convulsed. The waves rose in growing fury, each overtopping its fellow till in a very few minutes the lately glassy sea was like a roaring and devouring monster. White crested waves beat madly on the level sands and rushed up the shelving cliffs. Others broke over the piers, and with their spume swept the land thorns of the lighthouses which rise from the end of either pier of Whitby Harbor. The wind roared like thunder and blew with such force that it was with difficulty that even strong men kept their feet or clung with grim clasp to the iron stanchions. It was found necessary to clear the entire piers from the massive onlookers or else the fatalities of the night would have been increased manifold. To add to the difficulties and dangers of the time, masses of sea fog came drifting inland, white, wet clouds which swept by in ghostly fashion so dank and damp and cold that it needed but little effort of imagination to think that the spirits of those lost it see or touching their living brethren with the clammy hands of death and many a wand shuddered as the wreaths of sea mist swept by. At times the mist cleared and the sea for some distance could be seen in the glare of the lightning which now came thick and fast, followed by such sudden peals of thunder that the whole sky overhead seemed trembling under the shock of the footsteps of the storm. Some of the scenes thus revealed were of immeasurable grandeur and of absorbing interest, the sea running mountains high through skywards with each wave mighty masses of white foam which the tempest seemed to snatch at and whirl away into space, here and there a fishing boat with a rag of sail running madly for shelter before the blast, now and again the white wings of a storm-tossed seabird. On the summit of the East Cliff the new search light was ready for experiment but had not yet been tried. The officers in charge of it got it in working order and in the pauses of the inrushing mist swept with it the surface of the sea. Once or twice its service was most effective as when a fishing boat with gun whale under water rushed into the harbor able by the guidance of the sheltering light to avoid the danger of dashing against the piers. As each boat achieved the safety of the port there was a shout of joy from the mass of people on shore, a shout which for a moment seemed to cleave the gale and was then swept away in its rush. Before long the search light discovered some distance away, a schooner with all sails set, apparently the same vessel which had been noticed earlier in the evening. The wind had by this time backed to the East and there was a shutter amongst the watchers on the cliff as they realized the terrible danger in which she now was. Between her and the port lay the great flat reef on which so many good ships have from time to time suffered and with the wind blowing from its present quarter it would be quite impossible that she should fetch the entrance of the harbor. It was now nearly the hour of high tide but the waves were so great that in their troughs the shallows of the shore were almost visible and the schooner with all sails set was rushing with such speed that, in the words of one old salt, she must fetch up somewhere if it was only in hell. Then came another rush of seafog, greater than any hitherto, a mass of dank mist which seemed to close on all things like a gray paw and left available to men only the organ of hearing for the roar of the tempest and the crash of the thunder and the booming of the mighty billows came through the damp oblivion even louder than before. The rays of the searchlight were kept fixed on the harbor mouth across the east pier where the shock was expected and men waited breathless. The wind suddenly shifted to the northeast and the remnant of the seafog melted in the blast and then Mirabil Diktu between the piers leaping from wave to wave as it rushed at headlong speed swept the strange schooner before the blast with all sails set and gained the safety of the harbor. The searchlight followed her and a shudder ran through all who saw her for last to the helm was a corpse with drooping head which swung horribly to and fro at each motion of the ship. No other form could be seen on deck at all. A great awe came on all as they realized that the ship as if by a miracle it found the harbor unsteered saved by the hand of a dead man. However, all took place more quickly than it takes to write these words. The scooter paused not but rushing across the harbor pitched yourself on that accumulation of sand and gravel washed by many tides and many storms into the southeast corner of the pier jutting under the east cliff known locally as Tate Hill Pier. There was of course a considerable concussion as the vessel drove up on the sand heap. Every sparr rope and stay was strained and some of the top hammer came crashing down. But strangest of all the very instant the shore was touched an immense dog sprang up on deck from below as if shot up by the concussion and running forward jumped from the bow on the sand making straight for the steep cliff where the churchyard hangs over the laneway to the east pier so steeply that some of the flat tombstones, rough steams or through stones as they call them in the Whitby vernacular actually project over where the sustaining cliff has fallen away. It disappeared in the darkness which seemed intensified just beyond the focus of searchlight. It so happened that there was no one at the moment on Tate Hill Pier as all those whose houses are in close proximity were either in bed or were out on the heights above. Thus the Coast Guard on duty on the eastern side of the harbor who at once ran down to the little pier was the first to climb on board. The men working the search light after scouring the entrance of the harbor without seeing anything then turned the light on the derelict and kept it there. The Coast Guard ran aft and when he came beside the wheel bent over to examine it and recoiled at once as though under some sudden emotion. This seemed to peak general curiosity and quite a number of people began to run. It is a good way round from the west cliff by the drawbridge to Tate Hill Pier but your correspondent is a fairly good runner and came well ahead of the crowd. When I arrived however I found already assembled on the pier a crowd whom the Coast Guard and police refused to allow to come on board. By the courtesy of the Chief Boatman I was as your correspondent permitted to climb on deck and was one of a small group who saw the dead seaman whilst actually lashed to the wheel. It was no wonder that the Coast Guard was surprised or even odd for not often can such a sight have been seen. The man was simply fastened by his hands tied one over the other to a spoke of the wheel. Between the inner hand and the wood was a crucifix the set of beads on which it was fastened being around both wrists and wheel it all kept fast by the binding cords. The poor fellow may have been seated at one time but the flapping and buffeting of the sails had worked through the rudder of the wheel and dragged him to and fro so that the cords with which he was tied had cut the flesh to the bone. Accurate note was made of the state of things and a doctor, surgeon J. M. Kaffen of 33 East Elliot Place who came immediately after me declared after making examination that the man must have been dead for quite two days. In his pocket was a bottle carefully corked empty save for a little roll of paper which proved to be the addendum to the log. The Coast Guard said the man must have tied up his own hands fastening the knots with his teeth. The fact that a Coast Guard was the first on board may save some complications later on in the Admiralty Court where Coast Guards cannot claim the salvage which is the right of the first civilian entering on a derelict. Already however the legal tongues are wagging and one young law student is loudly asserting that the rights of the owner are already completely sacrificed his property being held in contravention of the statutes of Mortmain since the tiller as emblemship if not proof of delegated possession is held in a dead hand. It is needless to say that the dead steersman has been reverently removed from the place where he held his honorable watch and ward till death. The steadfastness says noble is that of the young Casablanca and placed in the mortuary to await inquest. Already sudden storm is passing and its fierceness is abating. Crowds are scattering homeward and the sky is beginning to redden over the Yorkshire Wolves. I shall send in time for your next issue further details of the derelict ship which found her way so miraculously into Harbor and the storm. Whitby 9 August The sequel to the strange arrival of the derelict in the storm last night is almost more startling than the thing itself. It turns out that the schooner is a Russian from Varna and is called the Demeter. She is almost entirely in ballast of silver sand with only a small amount of cargo, a number of great wooden boxes filled with mold. This cargo is consigned to a Whitby solicitor, Mr. SF Billington of Seven, the Crescent, who this morning went aboard and formally took possession of the goods consigned to him. The Russian Consul, too, acting for the charter party, took formal possession of the ship and paid all harbour dues, etc. Nothing is talked about here today except a strange coincidence. The officials of the Board of Trade have been most exacting in seeing that every compliance has been made with existing regulations. As the matter is to be a nine-days wonder, they are evidently determined that there shall be no cause of after complaint. A good deal of interest was abroad concerning the dog, which landed when the ship struck, and more than a few of the members of the SPCA, which is very strong in Whitby, have tried to befriend the animal. To the general disappointment, however, it was not to be found. It seems to have disappeared entirely from the town. It may be that it was frightened and made its way onto the moors where it is still hiding in terror. There are some who look with dread on such a possibility. Lest later on, it should itself become a danger, for it is evidently a fierce brute. Early this morning a large dog, a half-bred mastiff belonging to a coal merchant close to Tate Hill Pier, was found dead in the roadway opposite to its master's yard. It had been fighting and manifestly had had a savage opponent, for its throat was torn away and its belly was slit open as if with a savage claw. Later, by the kindness of the Board of Trade Inspector, I have been permitted to look over the logbook of the Demeter, which was in order up to within three days, but contained nothing of special interest except as two facts of missing men. The greatest interest, however, is with regard to the paper found in the bottle, which was today produced at the inquest, and a more strange narrative than the two between them unfold. It has not been my lot to come across. As there is no motive for concealment, I am permitted to use them and accordingly send you a rescript, simply omitting technical details of seamanship and supercargo. It almost seems as though the captain had been seized with some kind of mania before he had got well into blue water and that this had developed persistently throughout the voyage. Of course, my statement must be taken come grano, since I am writing from the dictation of a clerk of the Russian Consul, who kindly translated for me, time being short. You've heard me talking a lot recently about built bars. They're my new go-to solution for dessert or even for my breakfast so I don't have to stop and eat and I'll admit it's also been at a late night snack for me recently. These are the best protein bars I've ever tasted, plus they're low sugar, low carb, and low calorie. Today in the mail I received one of their newest flavors, the Cappuccino Puff Bar. With my love for coffee I just had to try this. So that was my breakfast this morning and when I first bit into it all I tasted was the chocolate outer coating. But then the coffee flavor started coming through stronger than I expected and it is amazing. It gives you a Cappuccino aftertaste as well, which is awesome. So now I can have my coffee in the morning and a Cappuccino Built Bar, but only for a short time because it is a limited release. So if you want to grab your Cappuccino Puff Built Bar while you can, visit WeirdDarkness.com slash Built and look in their Limited Release section. It's WeirdDarkness.com slash Built and use the promo code WeirdDarkness to get 10% off your entire purchase. They also have limited releases of a S'mores Chunk, which I've not tried yet, and a Cookies and Cream, which I have had in the past, which is also great. I'm glad they brought that one back. Again, it's WeirdDarkness.com slash Built and then use the promo code WeirdDarkness all one word to save 10% on your entire purchase. Log of the Demeter. Barna DeWittby. Rich in 18 July. Things so strange happening that I shall keep accurate note henceforth till we land. On 6 July, we finished taking in cargo, silver sand and boxes of earth. At noon set sail. East wind, fresh. Brew, five hands, two mates, cook, and myself, Captain. On 11 July, at dawn entered Bosphorus. Boarded by Turkish Customs Officers. Backsheesh, all correct. Underway at 4pm. On 12 July, through Dardanelles, more Customs Officers and flag boat of Guarding Squadron. Backsheesh again. Work of Officers thorough but quick. Won us off soon. At dark, passed into Archipelago. On 13 July, passed Cape Matipon. Brew dissatisfied about something. Seemed scared but would not speak out. On 14 July was somewhat anxious about the crew. Man all steady fellows who sailed with me before. Mate could not make out what was wrong. They only told him there was something and crossed themselves. Mate lost temper with one of them that day and struck him. Expected fierce quarrel but all was quiet. On 16 July, mate reported in the morning that one of crew, Petrovsky, is missing, could not account for it. Took larboard watch eight bells last night. Was relieved by Abramoff but did not go to bunk. Men more downcast than ever. All said they expected something of the kind but would not say more than there was something aboard. Mate getting very impatient with them. Feared some trouble ahead. On 17 July, yesterday one of the men, Ogeron, came to my cabin and in an awestruck way, confided to me that he thought there was a strange man aboard the ship. He said that in his watch he had been sheltering behind the deck house as there was a rainstorm but he saw a tall, thin man who was not like any of the crew come up the companion way and go along the deck forward and disappear. He followed cautiously but when he got to Bowes found no one and the hatchways were all closed. He was at a panic of superstitious fear and I am afraid the panic may spread. To ally it I shall today search an entire ship carefully from stem to stern. Later in the day I got together the whole crew and told them as they evidently thought there was someone in the ship we would search from stem to stern. First mate, angry, said it was folly and to yield to such foolish ideas would demoralize the men. Said he would engage to keep them out of trouble with a hand spike. I let him take the helm while the rest began thorough search all keeping abreast with lanterns we left no corner unsearched as there were only the big wooden boxes there were no odd corners where a man could hide. Men much relieved when search over and went back to work cheerfully. First mate scowled but said nothing. 22nd July. Rough weather last three days and all hands busy with sails no time to be frightened. Men seem to have forgotten their dread. Mates cheerful again and all on good terms. Praised men for work in bad weather. Past Gibraltar and out through straits. All well. 24 July. There seems some doom over this ship. Already a hand short and entering on the bay of Biscay with wild weather ahead and yet last night another man lost disappeared. Like the first he came off his watch and was not seen again. Men all in a panic of fear. Sent around Robin asking to have double watch as they fear to be alone. Mate angry. Fear there'll be some trouble as either he or the men will do some violence. 28 July. Four days in hell. Knocking about in sort of maelstrom in the wind of a tempest. No sleep for anyone. Men all worn out. Hardly know how to set a watch since no one fit to go on. 2nd May to volunteer to steer and watch and let men snatch a few hours sleep. Wind debating. Sees still terrific but feel them less as ship is steadier. 29 July. Another tragedy. Had single watch tonight as crew too tired to double. When morning watch came on deck you'd find no one except Steersman. Raised outcry it all came on deck. Thorough search but no one found. Are now without 2nd mate and crew in a panic. Mate and I agreed to go armed henceforth and wait for any sign of cause. 30 July. Last night rejoiced we're nearing England. Weather fine all sails set. Retired worn out. Slept soundly. Awakened by mate telling me that both man of watch and Steersman missing. Only self and mate in two hands left to work ship. 1 August. 2 days of fog and not the sail sighted. Had hoped when in the English Channel to be able to signal for help or get in somewhere. Not having power to work sails have to run before wind. Dare not lower as could not raise them again. We seem to be drifting to some terrible doom. Mate now more demoralized than either of men. His stronger nature seems to have worked inwardly against himself. Men are beyond fear. Working stoddedly and patiently with minds made up to worst. They are Russian. He Romanian. 2 August. Midnight. Woke up from few minutes sleep by hearing a cry seemingly outside my port. Could see nothing in fog. Rushed on deck and ran against mate. Tells me heard cry and ran but no sign of man on watch. One more gone. Lord help us. Mate says we must be past Straits of Dover as in a moment of fog lifting he saw North Forland just as he heard the man cry out. So we are now off in the North Sea and only God can guide us in the fog. Which seems to move with us and God seems to have deserted us. 3 August. At midnight I went to relieve the man at the wheel. When I got to it I found no one there. The wind was steady and as we ran before it there was no yawing. I dared not leave it so shouted for the mate. After a few seconds he rushed up on deck in his flannels. He looked wild eyed and haggard and I greatly fear his reason has given way. He came close to me and whispered hoarsely with his mouth to my ear as though fearing the very air might hear. It is here I know it now. On the watch last night I saw it. Like a man tall and thin and ghastly pale. It was in the bows and looking out. I crept behind it and gave it my knife but the knife went through it empty as the air. As he spoke he took his knife and drove it savagely into space. Then he went on. But it is here and I'll find it. It is in the hold perhaps in one of those boxes. I'll unscrew them one by one and see you work the helm. And with a warning look and his finger on his lip he went below. There was springing up choppy wind and I could not leave the helm. I saw him come out on deck again with a tool chest and a lantern and go down the forward hatchway. He is mad. Stark, raving mad. It's no use my trying to help him. He can't hurt those big boxes. They're invoiced as clay and to pull them about is as harmless a thing as he can do. So here I stay and mind the helm and write these notes. I can only trust in God and wait till the fog clears. Then if I can't steer to any harbor with the wind that is I shall cut down sails and lie by and signal for help. It's nearly all over now. Just as I was beginning to hope that the mate would come out calmer for I had heard him knocking away at something in the hold and work is good for him. I came up the hatchway as sudden startled scream which made my blood run cold and up on the deck he came as if shot from a gun a raging madman with his eyes rolling at his face convulsed with fear save me save me he cried and then looked round on the blanket of fog. His horror turned to despair and in a steady voice he said you had better come to captain before it is too late he is there I know the secret now the sea will save me from him and it is all that is left before I could say a word or move forward to seize him he sprang on the bulwark and deliberately threw himself into the sea. I suppose I know the secret too now it was this madman who got rid of the men one by one and now he has followed them himself. God help me how am I to account for all these horrors when I get to port when I get to port will that ever be for August still fog which the sunrise cannot pierce I know there is sunrise because I am a sailor why else I know not I dared not go below I dared not leave the helm so here all night I stayed and in the dimness of the night I saw it him God forgive me but the mate was right to jump overboard it was better to die like a man to die like a sailor in blue water no man can object but I am captain and I must not leave my ship but I shall baffle this fiend or monster or I shall tie my hands to the wheel when my strength begins to fail and along with them I shall tie that which he it dare not touch and then come good wind or foul I shall save my soul and my honor as captain I'm growing weaker and the night is coming on if he can look me in the face again I may not have time to act we are wrecked may have this bottle be found and those who find it may understand if not well then all men shall know that I have been true to my trust God and the blessed virgin and the saints help a poor ignorant soul trying to do his duty of course the verdict was an open one there's no evidence to induce and whether or not the man himself committed the murders there is now none to say the folk here hold almost universally that the captain is simply a hero and he is to be given a public funeral already it is arranged that his body is to be taken with a train of boats up the esk for a piece and then brought back to Tate Hill Pier and up the Abbey steps where he's to be buried in the churchyard on the cliff the owners of more than a hundred boats have already given in their names as wishing to follow him to the grave no trace has ever been found of the great dog at which there is much mourning for with public opinion in its present state he would I believe be adopted by the town tomorrow we'll see the funeral and so we'll end this one more mystery of the sea are you a member of the darkness syndicate the darkness syndicate is a private membership where you receive commercial free episodes of the Weird Darkness podcast and radio show behind the scenes video updates about future projects and events I'm working on you can share your own opinions on ideas to help me decide upon Weird Darkness contests events and merchandise you can download word search puzzles based on episodes of the podcast you can hear audio books I'm narrating before even the publishers or authors get to hear them you can also hear auditions I've submitted for other voiceover projects and get updates on the progress of those I've been cast in such as my voice acting roles as Wolverine and J. Jonah Jameson in a couple of Marvel fan series or as Green Lantern Hal Jordan in a DC fan project you get all of these benefits and more starting at only five dollars per month join the darkness syndicate at WeirdDarkness.com slash syndicate that's WeirdDarkness.com slash syndicate Lucy was very restless all night and I too could not sleep the storm was fearful and as it boomed loudly among the chimney pots made me shudder when a sharp puff came it seemed to be like a distant gun strangely enough Lucy did not wake but she got up twice and dressed herself fortunately each time I awoke in time and managed to undress her without waking her and got her back to bed it is a very strange thing this sleepwalking for as soon as her will is thwarted in any physical way her intention if there be any disappears and she yields herself almost exactly to the routine of her life early in the morning we both got up and went down to the harbor to see if anything had happened in the night there were very few people about and though the sun was bright and the air clear and fresh the big grim looking waves that seemed dark themselves because the foam that topped them was like snow forced themselves in through the narrow mouth of the harbor like a bullying man going through a crowd somehow I felt glad that Jonathan was not on the sea last night but on land but oh is he on land or sea where is he and how I'm getting fearfully anxious about him if I only knew what to do and could do anything 10 August the funeral of the poor sea captain today was most touching every boat in the harbor seemed to be there and the coffin was carried by captains all the way from Tate Hill Pier up to the churchyard Lucy came with me and we went early to our old seat whilst the cordage of boats went up the river to the viaduct and came down again we had a lovely view and saw the procession nearly all the way the poor fellow was laid to rest quite near our seat so that we stood on it when the time came and saw everything poor Lucy seemed much upset she was restless and uneasy all the time and I cannot but think that her dreaming at night is telling on her she's quite odd in one thing she will not admit to me that there is any cause for restlessness or if there be she does not understand it herself there is an additional cause and that poor old Mr. Swales was found dead this morning on our seat his neck broken he had evidently as the doctor said fallen back in his seat in some sort of fright for there was a look of fear and horror on his face that the men said made them shudder poor dear old man perhaps he had seen death with his dying eyes Lucy is so sweet and sensitive that she feels influences more acutely than other people do just now she was quite upset by a little thing which I did not much heed though I am myself very fond of animals one of the men who came up here often to look for the boats was followed by his dog the dog is always with him they're both quiet persons and I never saw the man angry nor heard the dog bark during the service the dog would not come to its master who was on the seat with us but kept a few yards off barking and howling its master spoke to it gently and then harshly and then angrily but it would neither come nor cease to make a noise it was in a sort of fury with its eyes savage and all its hairs bristling out like a cat's tail when puss is on the warpath finally the man too got angry and jumped down and kipped the dog and then took it by the scruff of the neck and half dragged and half threw it on the tombstone on which the seat is fixed the moment it touched the stone the poor thing became quiet and fell all into a tremble it did not try to get away but crouched down quivering and cowering and was in such a pitiable state of terror that I tried though without effect to comfort it Lucy was full of pity too but she did not attempt to touch the dog but looked at it in an agonized sort of way I greatly fear that she is too super sensitive in nature to go through the world without trouble she will be dreaming of this tonight I'm sure the whole agglomeration of things the ship steered into port by a dead man his attitude tied to the wheel with a crucifix and beads the touching funeral the dog now furious and now in terror will all afford material for her dreams I think it will be best for her to go to bed tired out physically so I shall take her for a long walk by the cliffs to Robin Hood's Bay and back she ought not to have much inclination for sleepwalking then thanks for listening if you like the show please share it with someone you know who loves the paranormal or strange stories true crime monsters or unsolved mysteries like you do you can email me anytime with your questions or comments at Darren at WeirdDarkness.com Darren is D-A-R-R-E-N WeirdDarkness.com is also where you can find information on any of the sponsors you heard about during the show find all of my social media listen to audiobooks I've narrated sign up for the email newsletter find other podcasts that I host including Church of the Undead visit the store for Weird Darkness merchandise and more WeirdDarkness.com is also where you can find the hope in the darkness page if you or someone you know is struggling with depression or dark thoughts also on the website if you have a true paranormal or creepy tale to tell you can click on tell your story you can find all of that and more at WeirdDarkness.com last voyage of Demeter was written by Bram Stoker I have links to both this and the full Dracula novel in the show notes Weird Darkness is a registered trademark copyright Weird Darkness and now that we're coming out of the dark I'll leave you with a little light Leviticus 17 verses 10 through 12 if any one of the house of Israel or of the strangers who sojourn among them eats any blood I will set my face against that person who eats blood and will cut him off from among his people for the life of the flesh is in the blood and I have given it for you on the altar to make atonement for your souls for it is the blood that makes atonement by the life therefore I have said to the people of Israel no person among you shall eat blood neither shall any stranger who sojourns among you eat blood and a final thought everyone knows the phenomenon of trying to hold your breath underwater how at first it's all right and you can handle it then as it gets closer and closer to the time when you must breathe how urgent the need becomes the lust and the hunger to breathe and then the panic sets in when you begin to think that you won't be able to breathe and finally when you take in air and the anxiety subsides that's what it's like to be a vampire and need blood Francis Ford Coppola and a final final thought I have never met a vampire personally but I don't know what might happen tomorrow Bella Legosi I'm Darren Marlar thanks for joining me in the weird darkness Hey weirdos I'm really excited to let you know that I am stepping into the marvel universe as the voice of J Jonah Jameson in a new animated film coming in 2024 called Spider-Man Turning Point that's right I get to play Peter Parker's jerk of a boss and not only am I a voice actor for this film I'm also an executive producer because I believe in it we even have a celebrity voice actor in the cast Mike Vaughn was the voice of Ghostface in the screen tv show well he's voicing Harry Osborn if you'd like to see some of the slick animation the storyboards character concepts the first teaser trailer for the film and more visit weirddarkness.com slash spider-man we even have an original musical score in fact you're hearing Green Goblin's theme behind me right now that's weirddarkness.com slash Spider-Man when you visit there you'll also have an opportunity to get involved if you'd like getting your name in the credits getting a social media shout out from the Spider-Man Turning Point production get an animated thank you from Spider-Man himself just for you and more I cannot wait to bring my J Jonah Jameson to you in 2024 learn more about our upcoming animated film Spider-Man Turning Point at weirddarkness.com slash Spider-Man that's weirddarkness.com slash Spider-Man not yet have you ever noticed that in just about every post-apocalyptic tv show or movie the electrical grid is gone no power at all anywhere no places to plug in a radio to get news and you can forget about charging your mobile devices or relaxing in an air conditioned house or apartment we rely on electrical power did you know that the power grid we are currently surviving off of was designed in the 1800s it's so fragile that in 2003 a tree branch hit a power line in Ohio and it shut down 21 power plants and close to 100 people died because of it and it's not just natural disasters in january a power station in north carolina was damaged by gunfire marking the third time it happened the terrifying truth is that our national security experts are warning us that our aging power grid is now more vulnerable than ever and these attacks just raise a new level of threat those post-apocalyptic tv and film scenarios could easily turn from fiction to fact imagine a blackout lasting not days but weeks or even months your life would be frozen in time at the moment the power fails lights all over the country would go out throwing people into total darkness that's why having your own personal source of solar power is more important than ever with the patriot power generator you get a solar generator that doesn't install into your house because it's portable you can take it with you wherever you go even use it indoors and it's powerful enough for your phones medical devices even your refrigerator right now you can go to four patriots dot com that's the number four patriots dot com and use the code weird to get 10% of your first purchase on anything on the website including the lifesaving patriot power generator you'll also get their famous guarantee for an entire year after your order plus free shipping on orders over 97 dollars and the reason i approached four patriots to be a sponsor a portion of every sale is donated to charities who support our veterans and their families prepare for the future go to four patriots dot com today and use the code weird to get 10% off that's the number four patriots dot com promo code weird and ensure you will survive the future hey weirdos be sure to click the like button and subscribe to this channel and click the notification bell so you don't miss future videos i post videos seven days a week and while you're at it spread the darkness by sharing this video with someone you know who loves all things strange and macabre if you want to listen to the podcast you can find it at weird darkness dot com slash listen