You're listening to Zara Yahalo, a horror anthology where the
veil between worlds is but a whisper away.
Stay tuned, for the terror is just beginning.
16882 Guide drive No. OK.
My friend, welcome to the top paces.
I am anxiously expected at the Borko parks where my carriage
will ping to. I trust your journey from London
has been a happy one and that you will enjoy your stay.
My beautiful love, your friend Dean.
Good evening and welcome, dear guests.
Join us tonight on a chilling adventure as we honor a
groundbreaking production that forever transformed the world of
radio drama. As daylight fades and the
shadows lengthen, we will explore the mysteries that lie
within this forgotten mansion where each room whispers tales
of the macabre. I invite you to follow me as we
journey through the hallways and chambers of this grand estate.
Observe the dust covered portraits lining the walls,
their subjects frozen in time, their eyes following our every
move. The flickering candlelight casts
eerie shadows as we arrive at the parlor where an old radio
stands, waiting to be awakened. It is here.
That we find our. Esteemed host Mr. Reinhard
Hendrickson. Eager to share with us a
captivating production that has enthralled countless horror
enthusiasts and awakened a creature of the night.
Welcome, dear guests to my secluded sanctuary.
Prepare yourself to step into a world of shadows where life and
death are mere whispers apart. Immerse yourselves in the
darkness as we journey through a spine tingling reimagining of a
legendary tale. That has fascinated horror
aficionados for generations. Allow me to recount a personal
experience. I had the unique opportunity to
watch the 1931 film adaptation of Dracula in a cinema that at
the time lacked sound capabilities.
Although the movie was intended as a talkie featuring Bela
Lugosi's legendary depiction of the Count, I was among a select
few who witnessed it as a silent film complete with intertitles.
Studio knew that not every theater could afford the costly
sound equipment. Back then.
The absence of sound served to amplify the spine chilling
ambience and the pervasive sense of dread on the screen.
This unparalleled encounter ignited my fascination with the
horror genre. And just a few years later, in
1938, I had my first exposure to the spoken voice of this iconic
character through an adaptation penned by John Houseman and
Orson Welles. It is this adaptation which we
shall hear tonight, performed by some of our own residents.
Spirits. Ah, it is time.
Ladies and gentlemen, gather around the radio and brace
yourselves for our homage to Orson Welles in the Mercury
Theatres, Dracula. The.
Columbia Network takes pride in presenting Orson Welles in the
first production of a unique new summer series by the Mercury
Theatre on the Air. And now the director of the
Mercury Theatre, the star and producer of these programs,
Orson Welles. Good evening.
We are starting off tonight with the best story of its kind ever
written. You will find in every
representative library of classic English narrative it is
Brad Stoker's Dracula. The next time I speak to you,
I'm Doctor Arthur Seward. George Carlos plays Jonathan
Harker and Martin Gay Will plays Doctor Van Helsing.
It is Doctor Seward who tells the story.
So for the moment, goodbye ladies and gentlemen, I will see
you in Transylvania. The Mercury Theater on the Air
presents Orson Welles as Count Dracula in his own version of
Bram Stoker's great novel Dracula.
Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Arthur Seward.
I'm here tonight to bear witness to the truth of certain events,
which you may find it hard to believe, but I ask you to
believe them. I hear certain documents,
telegrams, clippings from the press today.
Memoranda and letters in various hands, all needless matters have
been eliminated to the history. Almost at variance with the
possibilities of contemporary belief, they stand forth the
simple fact. I present you first with
excerpts from the private journal of Jonathan Harker.
I Jonathan Harker, Lawyers Clark article to Peter Hawkins Esquire
of Exeter, England. I am writing this journal in
hopes that if misfortune overtakes me, it may one day
come to the eyes of those who love me.
I set out from London on the last day of April to visit our
client in Eastern Europe. On May the 3rd I arrived in
Budapest and came after nightfall to Klausenburg on the
border of Transylvania at B Street.
There was a letter of welcome for me from a client informing
me that his carriage would await me at Borgo Pass.
It was signed. Dracula
The road was rough, but still we seemed to fly over in a feverish
haste and it grew dark. There seemed to be some
excitement among the passengers. They kept speaking to the driver
and looking at me and urging him on with the greater speed.
Crazy Coach rocks from its great love of the springs.
The mountains seem to come near and near on either side.
Coachman, coachman, What is it? Where are we?
You are nearing your destination, young hair.
This is the Vorgo Pass. There are black roll of clouds
overhead, and in the air the heavy, oppressive sense of
Thunder. Now we go through the past.
The young hair is not expected. After all,
you are early tonight, my friend.
A collection of four horses had drawn up beside us.
Let me help you, Sir. The coachman smiled.
And the lamplight fell on a hard looking mouth with very red lips
and sharp looking teeth, as white as ivory.
It began to move. I looked back.
The coach, with its load of passengers had banished from
sight. We swept in the darkness of the
past. I struck a match.
It was within a few minutes of the moon.
Then the dog began to howl somewhere far down the road.
The wind was rising, moaning and whistling through the rocks, and
the branches of the trees crashed together as we swept
along, grew colder and colder still, and fine, powdery white
snow began to fall. The baying of wolves sounded
nearer and nearer, as if as if though they were closing, and
around us from every side we kept on ascending, always
ascending, and the howling of wolves was growing less.
Howling of wolves is growing less.
Presently it ceased altogether, and just then the moon broke
through the black clouds, and by its light I saw around us a ring
of wolves running alongside the carriage in silence, with white
teeth and lulling red tongues with long sinewy limbs and
shaggy hair. Welcome to my house.
I must have fallen asleep. The carriage had pulled up in a
courtyard of the vast ruined castle.
The coachman was nowhere to be seen.
Welcome to my house, come freely, go safely and leave
something of the happiness you bring.
Count Dracula. I am drunk.
The face was strong. Very strong.
The mouth, so far as I could see it under the heavy mustache, was
fixed and rather cruel looking, with particularly sharp white
teeth. You hear them, Mr. Harker?
The wolves. The children of the night.
As you say, Mr. Harker. The wolves listen.
Oh, come now, There are things you must tell me tomorrow.
Of England and the estate you have purchased for me.
Ah. Yes, the estate is called
Carfax, I believe. Yes, that is so.
Now I will detain you no longer. You will find your room in
readiness, and I advise you not to leave it during the night.
This castle is on the very edge of a terrible precipice.
Stone fall from a window would fall 1000 feet without touching
anything I explored. There are doors, doors, doors
everywhere. All of them locked.
The door to the Great Hall, the door to the courtyard.
Every door in this castle is closed, bolted against me.
Castle Dracula is a prison, and I am a prisoner the next night.
I could not sleep, so after a few hours I got up and lighting
my candle. I placed my shaving mirror on
the dressing table and I was just beginning to shave.
You feel rested, Mr. Honker. I had not seen him, although the
reflection of the mirror covered the whole room behind me.
I turned to the glass again. Count Dracula's close to me, and
I could see him over my shoulder, but there was no
reflection of him in the mirror. It was blank.
I started to cut myself on the side of the throat.
The blood was trickling down my neck, my knee.
The blood. The blood Wipe the blood from
your face, Mr. Hawker, and take care how you cut yourself.
Is this more dangerous than you think in this country?
When I woke, I found most of my things were gone.
My passport, my notes, my letter of credit.
I could find no trace of them anywhere, and my door was locked
from the outside June 20th. There is work of some kind going
on in the castle now and then I hear a faraway, muffled sound of
a matic and spade. And last night, the second of
the three dated letters which Dracula made me write.
The second of that series, which was to blot out the very traces
of my existence from the Earth, went forth Count Dracula.
Yes, my young friend. Well, what of me?
When am I free? When can I leave this place?
Free Mr. Harker, You're always free.
You want to leave. Would you like to leave tonight?
Yes, yes. In God's name.
My dear young friend, not an hour.
She wait in my house against your will.
Come follow me. The door seems to be bolted.
How strange. The door is not.
In God's name, open it. As you will, Mr. Harker.
You English have a proverb which is very close to my heart.
Welcome the coming speed, departing guests.
Good night, Mr. Harper. Shut the door shut.
The door shut, Mr. Harper. I take it you will remain.
Morning, June 30th. This may be the last word I ever
write in this journal. God preserve my sanity.
I have never seen Count Dracula. By day, at sunrise at the first
Cox crow, he is gone. I I don't understand these
things. I only know that the wolves are
bang, and that he is a man with hair on the palms of his hands,
with sharp teeth and no blood in his face.
He casts no shadow. He cannot be seen in glass, and
he moves like a bat across the sheer face of the castle walls.
He eats no food, and he is mortally afraid of the crucifix.
As I write this, I hear in the courtyard the rolling of heavy
wheels and the cracking of whips.
And there in the passageway below, pound of heavy boxes
being set down, boxes shaped like coffins and I know what
they hold. The boxes are filled with holy
earth from the Chapel run of the castle.
The last box is being nailed down.
I now hear heavy feet trampling again.
Door is shut. The chains rattle in the
courtyard and down the rocky way.
The roll of heavy wheels, the cracking of whips.
Hell, the wagons have gone.
I'm alone in the castle. I'm alone in the castle.
I'm. Alone.
I'm alone. Ladies and gentlemen, this is
Doctor Seward. Mr. Harker's General terminates
at this point. I now presented to evidence a
clipping dated August of that year from the Yorkshire
Telegraph, and my correspondence in Whitby, one of the greatest
and sudden of storms on record, was experienced here today.
The weather has been somewhat sultry, but Saturday evening was
fine, the band was playing, the Piers were crowded with
holidaymakers, the winds went away entirely in the evening and
there was a dead calm. But a few lights at sea, the
only sail noticeable was a foreign schooner on the full
canvas that was seemingly going westward.
A little after midnight came a strange sound over the sea, and
high overhead the air seemed to carry a strange faint, hollow
booming. Then, without warning, The
Tempest broke, and there, with all the sails set, was a foreign
schooner rushing with terrific speed towards the shore.
A Searchlight was turned on her, and there it lashed to the helm.
Was a corpse, A drooping head which swayed horribly to and fro
at each motion of the ship. A moment later she crashed.
Then a strange thing was seen at the very instant she touched.
A huge dog sprang up on deck from below, and running forward,
jumped from the bow. One of the sand, and making
straight up the east Cliff towards the graveyard, vanished
into the night. The Coast Guard going aboard at
dawn, found the dead man fast from the spoke of the wheel
tightly clutched in one hand was a crucifix.
The man must have been dead for quite two days.
In the pocket of the dead man's coat was found a bottle,
carefully corked, containing A roll of paper.
It's proved to be in a denim to the ship's log.
It was found on board only a small amount of cargo and that
of the most unusual nature. Apparently the ship carried
nothing but earth. Common earth packed away wooden
boxes shaped much like coffins. Log of their Demeter Russian
flag Black Sea to Whitby July 6th.
Finished taking in cargo now queer cargo boxes of earth at
noon such sail E went fresh. Crew four hands, 2 mates cook
and myself captain July 11th entered Bosporus.
Had Dark pass through. Dardanel's maid reported in
mourning that one of the crew by Odin was missing.
To clarboard watch 8 Bells. Last night he was relieved by
Talasan, who never came to his bunk.
There's something aboard this ship.
No, don't laugh, Captain in the rain last night.
Oh. A tall thin man go up the
companionway along the deck, forward and disappear.
When I go to the bow, no one and the hatchways all closed.
July 22nd. Rough weather lasts 3 days.
All hands bither with sails. No time be frightened.
Pascal Botar now through straights.
All well. July 24th last night.
Now the hand was lost. Disappeared.
Like Tallison he. Came off his watch at midnight.
We never see him again. Yeah, take your watch.
Now I don't take watch alone no more.
Noble I, Noble I. No more double watch double.
Watch July 29th at single watch tonight.
His crew too tired to double when morning come.
Hey hey, Balaki. Malaki.
Malaki Below Malaki. Where are the guns?
Malaki gun Like the others. Like all the others.
The maid and I have agreed to go armed henceforth July 30th.
Last night we are nearing England weather fine, all sales
set, Captain. Captain, the men on the watch
are missing. More missing now.
Only self and mate and one hand left to work.
Ship. August 3rd. 2 days of fog are
not a sail sighted at midnight. I went to relieve the man at
wheel and when I got to it I found no one there.
It's here. I know it now.
I saw it. Like a man, tall and thin, gusty
pain. He was in the bows, looking out.
I gave him my knife, but the knife went right through it and
he is there. What?
What are you talking about? It's here and I'll find it.
It's in the. Old.
It's in one of those boxes of earth.
I'll unscrew them one by one and see and see.
He is mad. Stark raving man.
It's no use my trying to stop him.
He can't hurt those big boxes there in voices.
Common Earth. He's there, down in the hold.
I know the secret now. The sea was saving me from him.
It's all that's left. I saw that's left.
August 4th I am all alone on my ship and still the fog.
I dare not go below. I dare not leave the helm.
So here all night I stayed, and in the deadness of the night I
saw it. I saw him.
Don't forgive me, but the mate was right to jump overboard.
It was better to die like a sailor in the blue water.
But I am captain, and I must not leave my ship.
I have tied my hands to the wheel when my strength begins to
fail, and along with them I shall tie that which it dare not
touch my crucifix. I am growing weaker.
And the night is coming on. God had the Blessed Virgin help
a poor, ignorant soul trying to do his duty.
Telegram Seward perfleet van Helsing Amsterdam.
Lucy Westenra in alarming condition cannot diagnosed come
at once Seward. Telegram Van Helsing, Amsterdam
to Seward perfleet. I'm on my way to you.
Please arrange for me to examine your patient immediately on my
arrival, Van Helsing. Ladies and gentlemen, I should
now explain the six months before the events recorded here,
I had become engaged to a young lady, Lucy Wastenra.
We were to be married in the spring.
My old teacher, Professor Van Helsing, arrived at 4:00 the
next afternoon. I took him at once to Lucy's
house. She lay in her bed, asleep.
She was gassed a chocolate pale. The red had even seemed to have
gone from her lips and gums. The bones of her face stood out.
Young Miss is bad, very bad. She must have blood or she will
die. She is not anemic.
The qualitative analysis of her blood is quite normal condition.
It is strange. I do not like to think how
strange. Look like God, her throat look.
The black belted band that she always wore dragged up a little
and showed a red mark on the throat.
Just over the external jerk of the vein were two punctures, not
large, but not wholesome looking.
The edges were white and worn, looking well, well, what is it,
Professor? What's wrong with her?
Speak frankly. You know, you can tell me the
worst. I wish I could do it.
I wish I could, but I do not dare.
But won't you tell me anything? I will tell you this, your young
lady is in a danger greater than death.
You must believe me if you leave her for one moment and harm
befalls. You will not sleep easy
thereafter. September 8th.
I sat up all night with Lucy. My dear, you can sleep tonight.
I'm here watching you. Nothing can happen.
And I promise that. Any sign of bad dreams?
If I see anything, I'll wake you at once.
Will you? Will you?
Really? Then how's sleep?
I sat all night by her bedside. She's not wake once during the
night, although the boughs or bat or something slapped on us
angrily against the windowpane. September 11th, still quoting
from my private journals this time I received a message from
Perfleet. It read, 10:20 PM St.
John's Hospital. Serious complications.
Case 891. Your immediate presence in
London. Imperative.
I had no choice. Some time later a paper was
found among Lucy with Sten was belonging.
I write this to leave it to be seen, so that no one might get
into trouble from me. I went to bed as usual, taking
care that the window was closed and Doctor Van Helsing had
directed. About 2:00 in the morning, I
awakened. I went to the door, called out.
Arthur. Arthur.
There was no answer. Something's broke in the window.
I'm in the broke alarm. I dare not go out.
The house seems to be empty. Yeah, full of.
Specs. Floating, circling and driving
in the window. The light burns blue and dim.
What am I to do? Something very sweet and very
bitter. A hell around me.
I can sink into deep water. They're singing in my ears.
You shall be flesh of my flesh, blood off my blood.
September 12th, late Only Resolution and Havoc can let me
make an entry tonight. We found her sprawled on the
floor and there was a draft in the room from a broken window.
Her throat was bare, showing her two wounds looking horribly
white and mangled. Yeah, too late, my friend.
We have failed. God's will be done.
She is dying. Yes, she's dying.
Stay beside her, it will make much difference.
Mark me whether she dies conscious or in her sleep.
It was late in the afternoon before she opened her eyes.
Ah, so. Oh, my love, I'm so glad you've
come. I took her hand and knelt beside
her. Her breath came and went like a
tired, peaceful child. And then the light from the
setting sun fell in her face. And then, insensibly, a strange
change came over her. Her eyes were suddenly dull and
hard, her breathing was heavy, her mouth opened, and the pale
gums drawn back made the teeth look large and sharp.
Ah. My love, I'm so glad you've
come. Kiss me.
Bend down and. Kiss not on your life, not for
your living soul and hers. Lucy, She's dead.
Poor girl. Lion piece at last.
It is the end. Not so.
It is only the beginning later and see.
Extra special Extra special. The Kensington Horror.
Westminster Gazette, September 25th A Hampstead Mystery, The
Kensington Horror and the Woman in Black are vividly recalled to
mine by a series of events that have taken place recently in the
neighborhood of Hampstead. Several cases have occurred of
young children straying from home or failing to return from
playing on the heath. In all these cases, the children
have given this as their excuse that they've been with a
beautiful lady who offered them chocolates.
In each case, the child was found to be slightly torn or
wounded in the throat. The wounds seem such as might be
made by a rat or a small dog extra.
Special Extra Hempstead Horror. Read about the Beautiful Lady
Extra special. The Hamstead Horror.
Another child injured by the beautiful lady.
We have just received intelligence that another child
missed last night was only discovered late in the morning.
It has the same tiny wound in the throat.
Well Stuart, what do you think of that?
You mean to tell me, my friend, that you still had no suspicions
as to what poor Lucy died of? Nervous prostration followed on
great loss or waste of blood. How was the blood lost or
wasted? You are a clever man, my friend
and a good doctor, but you do not believe that things that you
cannot understand, you are longsured.
Are you aware of all the mysteries of life and death?
Can you tell me why in the bumpers there are bats that come
at night and open the veins of cattle and horses and suck dry
those veins? How?
On some islands of the western seas there are bats which hang
on trees all day and then when they sail asleep on deck because
it is hot, sweep down on them. And then in the morning I found
dead men. As right as Miss Lucy was I, I.
Understand none of these things. After tonight, Stuart, if you
dare to come with me, perhaps you will understand.
September 29th before dawn. Now it is done and I would
sooner die 1000, destined to have to live again what I did
this night. We will spend the night.
You and I here in this churchyard where Miss Lucy is
buried. And then we enter the tomb.
We open the coffin. You shall get me convinced.
Take. Care of Ann Helsing.
Miss Lucy is dead, is it Not so, since there could be no wrong to
her, but if she's not dead? There's some difficulty.
We found the Western Ratum. Took up my place behind a Yew
Tree on one side of the tomb and Helsing on the other.
I was chilled and frightened. Suddenly I saw something moving
between 2 yew trees. A dim white figure which held
something at its breast. The figure stopped.
I could not see the face, what was bent down about what I saw
to be a fair haired child. There was a sharp little cry,
such as a child gives and sleep or dogs that lies before a fire
and dreams and the thing saw us. She drew back with an angry
smile, her lovely blood stained mouth to an open square.
If ever a face meant death. I saw it at that moment and
suddenly she turned and vanished in the direction of the tomb.
The child is unharmed. We leave him in a safe place
where the police find him. There's more to do.
Come. Now we're in a tomb.
There, in the coffin, the thing lay like a nightmare of Lucy,
the pointed teeth, the blood stained mouth, and Helsing never
looked up. From his bag he took out a book,
his operating knife, a heavy hammer and a round wooden stake.
Two or three inches thick, sharpened to a fine point and
hardened over a fire. Sure, the life of this unhappy
woman has just begun. Then she becomes what you call
undead, that comes with the change, the curse of
immortality. She cannot die, but must go on
age of the age, adding new victims.
Because all that die from the praying of the undead become
themselves undead and prey on others, so the circle goes on
ever widening as of the ripples from a storm thrown into the
water. But yes, if this lady, this
undead, be made to rest as true dead, then the soul of the poor
lady whom we love should be again free.
Take this stake in your left hand, the hammer in your right
place, the point over the heart here.
Then, when I begin the prayer for the dead, in God's name,
strike. Are you ready now?
Nominee in Cayelo obstacle root Livy Scaries popping on and
creatures who are piccata Nos uni.
On the morning of July 11th a man was found on the board of
Transylvania. He talked wildly of wolves and
boxes of earthen blood. He gave his name as Jonathan
Harker in the hospital at Klausenborg.
He improved sufficiently to make possible his removal to England.
I'm still quoting from my personal papers, but then his
condition remains so seriously he was committed for observation
to a private ward in my hospital at Perthleet.
Here he did so well that in three weeks he was completely
recovered. Was during this time that his
wife, Mina Harker brought to the attention of Doctor Ben Helsing
and myself the journal that her husband and cat while the
prisoner in the castle of a certain Count Dracula in
Transylvania. I have before me the record of a
meeting that took place in my study at Perfleet, transcribed
by Mina Harker. October 1st, meeting again,
8:10. Jonathan next to me, Dr. Stewart
afterwards and Dr. Van Helsing at the head of the table.
My friends, there are such things as vampires.
Had I known at first, what now I know, one so precious a life
would have been spared for the many of us who love her.
The vampire. Which is amongst us.
He's himself so strong that he can direct all the elements.
The stone, the fall, the Thunder.
He can command all the meaner things.
The Morton Bat, the Owl, the Fox, and the Wolf.
How then are we to begin our sky to destroy him?
How shall we find his place? And having found it, how can we
destroy? My friends, it is a terrible
task that we undertake. To fail here is not mere life or
death. If we fail, we become as Him,
foul things of the night as him. What come here.
Golden crucifix on the table. We took hands, we took hands and
our sole impact was made. My friends, we too are not
without strength. The vampire flourishes on the
blood of the living. Without this, he cannot live.
He throws no shadow. He makes no reflection in a
mirror. He can transform himself to a
wolf, to a bat. He can, come on, moonlit raises
elemental dust. You can see in the dark he can
do all these things, yet he is not free.
His paraceases at the coming of the day, Then until night, he
must remain in the shape in which he finds himself, and
except in his coffin, home in those earth boxes, he cannot
rest. And we can confine him in his
coffin. Then, my friends, if we obey
what we know, we will destroy him.
Did you hit it? I don't know.
They looked out the window against the black sky.
You could see nothing. Data are now positioned from his
accounts, castle, and transferring the to Rippy came
fifty boxes of Earth. All of these, to our certain
knowledge, were delivered at Carfax.
Recently. Twelve of these boxes have been
removed. First step, ascertain whether
all the rest remain in the deserted house next door, or
whether anymore have been removed.
We must break each of these boxes and sterilize the earth
with holy water so he can no longer seek safety in it.
And we must have him. The events of the next few days
are transcribed in Jonathan Harker's journal.
October 2nd, 5:00 AM. Just returned from an empty
house. Left Mina here at home.
Well, we've done our work at Carfax.
The place was filthy and the air stagnant and foul and alive with
rats. We counted the boxes, only 38 of
them. And over each one, the professor
went through his same mysterious work.
It was dawn when we got back, and I found Mina asleep.
She looks paler than usual October 2nd.
Soon after they left, I fell asleep.
I remember hearing a sudden barking of dogs, and then it was
silent. I got up and looked out the
window. There's a thin streak of white
mist moving across the grass along the wall of the house.
It dawned on me that the air in the room was heavy and dank and
cold. The gas light came only like a
tiny red spark in the fog. I could see through my eyelids.
The mist grew thicker and thicker, and then I looked and a
spark divided and it seemed to shine on me through the fog like
2 red eyes. You should.
Be flesh my flesh. October 2nd, 8:00 PM We're on
the track. 12 boxes were delivered to an empty house at
337. My dear friends, till the sun
sets tonight, Dracula must be tamed.
Whatever form he now has, we have this day to hunt out all
these layers and sterilize it. Then you will have no place you
can move and hide, but we have only until sunset.
The house in Piccadilly was empty, like the one at perflate,
the same sickening smells in the air.
On the table we found a closed brush, a brush and a comb and a
basin, the ladder containing dirty water, which was red as if
with blood. The boxes are back here, 8910.
11. On there 11.
There's a 12 box here somewhere. Gentlemen, it is after six the
sun is setting. With no time to lose.
He will return that any moment. Open the boxes.
Quiet. Yes, sure it is.
Yes, here it is. It's just he the window.
You waste your bullets, gentlemen.
You think you baffled me, you with your pale faces all in a
row, like sheep and butchers. You think you have left me that
place to rest, but I have more and times on my side.
The one you love is mine already.
I have known her already. My mark is on her throat.
Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood.
She is with me always, over land or sea.
We must find that last remaining box, gentlemen.
We must find it. As long as that earth existed
unpure, as long as there remains one place of refuge For Dracula,
there is no safety. There is no safety and no peace
for any soul in England. And for the dead?
Never peace so long as he lives. Blood of my blood, blood of my
blood. Mina Mina.
How do you know that? Fight.
With me always over land and
sea. Mina, darling, how did you know
that Dracula sets us? I don't know.
The words just came strange. There are times when somehow I
feel that I am with him. That sounds it.
Yes. Just at sunset and again at
sunrise. Dr. Van Helsing, if I could, if
at those. Times you have you the carriage.
The courage for what? What do you mean?
Doctor Van Helsing here will question.
Me. I will question her, yes, in a
state of hypnosis. The one you love is already
mine, she said. She is with me always, over land
or sea. Count Dracula.
Perhaps she will betray you if she is really with you, this one
we love. Who knows if she's really with
you, overland or sea. Blood of my.
Blood. Mina, Answer me.
Mina, are you with him? Yes, yes, I am with him.
There are you I. Do not know.
What do you hear? The lapping of water.
I can hear it on the outside. Then you are on the ship.
Yes. What else do you hear?
There's the creaking of an anchor chain.
What are you doing? Still Also still.
It's like death. It is like death.
Still. Here's a report from the
Matteson Peabody Ship brokers dated October 5th.
According to Lloyd's List, the only sailing ship that left for
the Black Sea yesterday was the Zarina Katarina down for Vanna.
Somehow before she sailed, a man came alongside all in black,
driving a car to the great box in it.
This he lifted down single handed and carried below.
Would remembers having seen him. After that, a heavy mist came up
over Doolittle. Dark until sailing time.
The rest of London Harbor remained completely clear.
Our plans are made. The average sailing time from
London to the Black Sea is 3 weeks.
We could travel over London to the same place in three days.
We shall be there waiting for him when he arrives.
October 15th arrived Vana about 5:00.
O'clock Mina feels stronger. Every morning, before sunrise
and just before sunset, she speaks to Van Helsing in a
trance. Are you with him, Mira?
I am with him. What can you see?
Nothing. All is dark.
What can you hear? I have the waves slapping
against the ship and the water rushes by.
The wind is high, I can hear it in the strouds, hands, the
phone. So Zarina.
Katarina is still at sea hastily Divana.
The Count cannot cross running water, so we cannot leave the
ship without being observed. What can you hear?
Lapping waves and rushing water? Darkness.
Whole week of waiting dated
telegram from Lloyd's. Not yet reported.
Not yet reported, Not yet
reported. Rushing water, Rushing water,
Creeping darkness. Darkness and wind.
October 24th Telegram, Lloyd's London to Harker, Zarina,
Katarina reported this morning from Darda Nails, Lloyd's London
to Harker. October 28th Zarina, Katarina
and Heavy Fog reported entering Gallats Harbor at 1:00 O'clock
today. Gallats Gallats is 38 hours from
here. It's the first train for Gallat
leaves at 6:30 tomorrow morning. My friends, we have lost.
With you I can see nothing. Nothing.
I can hear men's voices calling in the roaring prick of the
wind. I can feel the air blowing.
October 29th evening we are due between 2:00 and 3:00 in the
morning, but already at Bucharest we are three hours
late. What's going on?
I feel something passing me like a cold wind.
I can hear far off confused sounds as men talking in strange
tongues, fierce falling water and howling wolves.
There's another sound. How queer a sound like, like.
Like watch. Speak.
Me speak. I.
Come on, come on, you just speak.
Arrived to callats. Saw the captain and sorry in the
Katarina. Welcome aboard.
We are over an hour before Sonab we received a box for a party by
the name of Dracula. Had these papers right Manuel
Hindusheim. His name was Mr. Hindusheim.
Yes, you unloaded a box yesterday.
I got that from Kylov by order. Kylov.
Mr. Kylov? Oh, no.
He's smarter than They find him dead inside the churchyard.
The St. Peter.
They find him dead with his throat torn open October 30th.
Evening. There are two ways in which
Dracula can get back to his own place by land or by rota.
We've examined the map and found the most likely river is a
Seraph. You and I, Stuart will charter a
steam launch and follow him up the river.
Van Helsing and Mina will take a train to Verashti and from
there. From there we shall go in the
truck where Haka went to be streets over the border.
If you're not caught him before, we shall be meeting Dracula
there. October 31st we arrived at their
SETI at noon. Van Helsing and I brought the
carriage here. We started in an hour.
Our enemy is still on the river. October 31st.
We can earn good speed of the river at night.
There's plenty of water and the banks are wide apart.
November 1st evening, no news all day.
We hear that a big boat went up the river before us, going at
more than usual speed. November 4th, all day driving.
The country gets Wilder as we go and then we should reach.
November the 4th evening we have left the launch.
We've got horses and we have followed the track along the
river. We are armed.
Look quick. There they are now heading West.
Through the dawn we could see the Slovak some miles before us,
dashing along the river with the wagon.
On the great box. Late in the afternoon we leave
with all the. Cars, look, look.
We see two horses following fast, coming up from the South,
Seward and Harker. The Slovaks, with their heavy
wagons, are losing their ground now.
They must not be more than a mile behind.
Now the bargain is closer. Now the bargain is quite closer.
Can see the great box laying gravely now they are almost upon
us. Now what's happened?
A strange thing. The wagon smashed into a great
rock buried in the snow, lost its front wheel and turned over
on its side, jammed against the stone.
The horses tore loose from their traces and bolted, and the
Slovaks scattered and vanished after them.
And silence, silence like comes after them.
Ring a bell? Look his face.
It is Dracula Spot out stiff and twisted in the smear of his own
holy earth. The box in Falling has emptied
the dirt onto the snow. His face is old looking.
The skin is like paper. Doctor Stewart.
There is no time. Look at the sun.
Sunset. In one minute it is Sunset, and
he is forever lost to us. Love you the stake of Wood in
the hammer. Yes now sued.
Pray for us. Kneel down and pray our.
Father who was in heaven, hallowed be thy.
Name now sued. Pray for us kneel down and pray
Harker the stake of wood over his heart.
Be not afraid, Harker. Do not look into his eyes.
The hammer now Harker strike. Strike.
Flesh of my flesh, Guilt of my guilt, Death of my death.
Speak, and be manifest in the instant of your master's peril.
Elements of darkness, rain, evil wind, mist, and mold, and
tempests strike, Harker strike. The others couldn't, but somehow
I can hear him speaking behind his eyes.
Claw wing tools scale tissue of flesh.
Death of my death, Dead and undead.
The hand of the living is over, your master.
Console me, my children. This instant is no longer.
Space between 2 heartbeats. But the night is not here, and I
am lonely. Come to your master, my
children. Beguile him now in the instant
of his peril. Beguile him with the sound of
your names. Claw.
Wing. Tool.
Scale. Tissue of flesh.
Claw. Wing tooth scale tissue of
flesh. Strike Haka.
Strike. There is one very dear to me who
is not, answered my love. Me.
There is less than a minute between me and the night.
You must speak for me. You must speak with my heart.
Give them to me, Jonathan. Give them to me.
Give me the stick of wood and the hammer.
I shall never forget that moment.
The look on Paul Mina's face as she stood there, The angry scar
standing out on her throat, her eyes like living coals in the
last red of the sunset. She had torn the stake and
hammer out of my hands with the strength of an animal.
Mina, do you know what you have done, woman?
You know what you've done to us, You.
Pretty least him. The even is free.
Look at the sun. As we look down at Dracula, the
eyes saw the sinking sun and the hate in them turn to triumph.
My flesh come to me, my love. Come into the night and the
darkness. You have served me well, my
love. Ladies and gentlemen, all the
evidence is now before you. I've added nothing, and to the
best of my knowledge, I've admitted nothing that might help
throw light upon the extraordinary events of the year
1891 which cultivate on that terrible evening in the Borgo
Pass. There remains only this one last
report. When Minahaka sees the stake in
Hammer from her husband, I believe she was under some form
of hypnosis. She herself remembers nothing,
but whatever influence was at work on her, she must at the
last moment have rejected it, for at the exact instinct the
sun disappeared. It was Minahaka who drove the
stake through the heart of the thing that called itself
Dracula. At that same instant, even as we
looked, the wound on the side of her throat was no more.
As for Dracula, before the screams of the creature had died
from our ears, the whole body crumbled into dust and passed
from our sight. In the final moment of the
solution, there was in the face a look of peace such as I could.
Never have a margin might have rested there.
Tonight's production of Dracula by Orson Welles in the Mercury
Theatre was the first of nine CBS broadcasts in which this
brilliant group will bring to life a series of great
narratives, all presented in the immediacy of the first person
singular. In presenting them each Monday
at this time during the summer season, the Columbia network is
bringing a complete theatrical producing company to the air for
the first time. And now here's the director to
tell you about next week's Mercury Theatre production, Mr.
Orson Welles. Ladies and gentlemen, what are
your favorite stories? If there is one you are
particularly fond of and like to hear on the air, would you
please write me about it? Next week, the Mercury Theater
is going to tell you Robert Louis Stevenson's exciting yarn
about pirates in the Sea, Treasure Island.
Until then, just in case Count Dracker has left you a little
apprehensive. One word of comfort when you go
to bed tonight. Don't worry, turn out the lights
and go to sleep. It's all right.
You can rest easy. That's just a sound effect.
Wait there. Over there in the shadows, see
nothing. Nothing.
Nothing at all. I think it's nothing.
But always remember, ladies and gentlemen, there are wolves,
There are vampires. Such things do exist.
This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.
Dear listeners, we hope you enjoyed this spine tingling
journey through the shadows as we paid homage to Orson Welles
and the Mercury Theatres legendary production of Dracula.
It's been an honor to share this timeless tale with our audience
and to celebrate the genius that brought this chilling
masterpiece to life as we leave the haunted halls of this
forgotten mansion. We hope that the terror and
suspense we experience together will linger in your memories.
And as we bid farewell to the darkness that enveloped us this
evening, we invite you to join us again soon for another
thrilling adventure into the world of horror.
Who knows what secrets await us lurking in the shadows, ready to
be unearthed until we meet again?
Dear listeners, may your dreams be filled with mystery and
intrigue. And may the spirits of the night
continue to inspire your darkest fantasies.
Good night and sweet night. As the moon completes its cycle
and shadows grow long once more, a new tale of terror will arise
to chill your very soul. Dear listeners, brace yourselves
for next month's spine tingling installment of Zary A Hollow, a
horror anthology when the clock Strikes midnight and darkness
envelops the world. We will unveil A haunting story
that will grip your imagination and leave you breathless with
anticipation. And now I shall give you a sneak
peek to whet your appetite. Till then, so mark your
calendars and gather around the flickering candlelight as we
continue to explore the depths of the unknown and the macabre.
Last night, I dreamt I went to Mandalay again, the grand estate
perched on the cliffs overlooking the sea.
It was a place of beauty and wonder, but also of darkness and
secrets. I was haunted by the memory of
its previous mistress, Rebecca, whose presence lingered in every
corner. And yet I couldn't help but be
drawn in by the mystery of hit all.
Little did I know that my life would never be the same again.
Ah, dear listeners. Gather round as Zaria Hollow, a
horror anthology weaves a tale of mystery and romance shrouded
in the fog of the past. Dare to venture with us to the
windswept coast of Cornwall, where the ominous Mandalay
estate looms over the rocky shores.
It's secrets hidden within like a phantom in the night.
In this spine tingling adaptation, we follow a young
woman as she navigates the labyrinth with her new husband's
haunted heart and the lingering memory of his late wife, the
enigmatic Rebecca. I saw her as nothing more than a
companion to her employer. And at that time, there was
nothing even remotely intriguing about her.
And then, somehow, she attracted the attention of someone most
unexpected, and now she's the mistress of one of the grandest
estates. But can she?
Handle it well, the jury's still out.
At Mandalay, everything must be perfect.
As the head Butler, it's my job to make sure that everything
runs like clockwork. From the grand dinners to the
afternoon tea, every detail must be attended to.
But there's more to Mandalay than just the meticulous
routines. There are secrets that hide
within these walls, secrets that are whispered in the shadows.
She will never be Rebecca, and for that I will never accept
her. Can our heroine find a ray of
light in the darkness of Mandalay?
Or will the specter of Rebecca's memory rise like a tidal wave,
threatening to engulf her every hope?
Join us, my fellow fiends, for our next episode of Zary A.
Hollow, a horror anthology where we shall delve into the twisted
depths of Daphne du Maurier's timeless novel Rebecca.