After the Gloaming - 9 - The Whispering Church

Episode Date: September 2, 2023

After the Gloaming is a production of Dissonance Media and The Other Stories.The Whispering Church was written by James Barnett AKA Jimmy Horrors.James is the creator/producer of the Night’s End podcast and After the Gloaming. He is also a writer and voice actor and more recently an audio producer on The Other Stories podcast. You can connect with him on social media @jimmyhorrors. For more info on James’s projects, head to www.JamesBarnettCreative.com.Jordan Fisher was performed by James Barnett - http://jamesbarnettcreative.com/Cora Fisher was performed by Nina Nikolic - https://www.ninanikolic.com/Mayor Frank Golding was performed by Zane Pinner - https://aussienarrator.com/narrator/zane-pinner/Officer Burleigh was performed by Edward Stokes - https://zalowmusic.carrd.co or https://soundcloud.com/zalow-musicHobo was performed by Zach Lyall - https://www.valiant-voice.com/Henry Blackwood was performed by Xander ZweigShelly Stevenson was performed by Alexandra ElroyAfter the Gloaming script was written by James Barnett – http://www.jamesbarnettcreative.comSound production and editing was completed by James Barnett.Theme music was scored by Duncan Muggleton and produced by James Barnett - https://temporalrecordings.wordpress.com/Music and sound effects were provided by: Epidemic Sound, Sound Stripe, and Freesound.org.If you have enjoyed the episode, please spread the word to anyone you feel may enjoy it and please support the show by leaving a review and giving it a 5-star rating.To support the show and gain access to all episodes now, ad-free, and a bonus episode, head over to www.patreon.com/nightsendpodcastThis episode is brought to you with a Creative Commons – Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license. Don’t change it. Don’t sell it. But by all means… share the hell out of it.Stay Horrific, everyone! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Dissinance Media and the other stories presents. In the soft glow of dusk, Gothic tales of the Maccabre, where the supernatural calls home, and the shadows dance, hold tight, and don't lost you may become. Thank you for your company, Henry. I really do appreciate you taking me in while the storm passed. I'm keeping me entertained with such wonderful stories. But I really must go.

The sun is almost upon us, and people will be wondering where I am. Shelley, you've done me a great service, listening to me this night. The curse demands it. They will not rest the village, the people, the curse. What I was made to do to my family. It's okay, Henry. I don't need to know. Again, I thank you for your assistance. No! Please! One last story before dawn. It is the only way. Please. Sit. Um, Henry, I... Please. If I sit and listen to this last one, will you promise not to hurt me?

My dear. And not an animal. Sacrifices must be made. But only done when necessary. This tale takes us into the dark heart. Into Terranulius. This one is titled The Whispering Church. If you can't sort this problem out,

then perhaps I put the wrong man in the job. Sort it out. Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. All good lad. Hard to find good help these days. What can I do for you? I'm looking for Mayor Golding? Well, you've come to the right place. Call me Frank. Take a seat. Thank you. So glad to finally meet you. My name is Jordan...

Fisher, yeah, we've been expecting you. The man who's going to bring our church back to its past splendour. Ah, yes. Nice to meet you. Oh, no, no. Thank you. Trust me, you'll need it. It's easier to get beer here than water, and I've opened it now.

Get it in you. Ah, yeah, thanks. Now, church replenishment program. Instead of putting these much-needed funds into a more reliable water source or into our farming trade, the government wants to do up an old haunted church. And here you are.

Sorry you feel that way. I was as surprised as you when I got this assignment. Isn't everyone an atheist these days? Not in Walgolby it seems. 75% of our population here petitioned the government for this. There might only be a few hundred people here now, but in its heyday Woolgolby was 10,000 people strong. Very religious, and some of that old blood is still here.

Makes sense. Do you know how long you'll be here? Unsure at this stage. Once I assess the place, I'll have a clearer picture. My wife will be joining me in a couple of days to assess. But on a whole, I'd say no less than a year. Bare minimum. Ah, the wife, eh? No one told me about that. Any ankle biters? No, sir. Just corin myself.

Beauty, while Golby ain't no place for little ones. Too much history. And like I said before, call me Frank. You're in the outback now. We're all straight shooters here. You best remember that. If you want to get along with the locals, you'll drop the formal. lot of these people who don't trust it. Another cold one? No, thank you, Frank. There it is. Um, I'd really love to settle into my lodgings if that's okay.

If you could direct me to the hotel, I'd very much appreciate it. It's been a long drive. I bet. Hotel closed down last year. You'll be staying in the church itself. There's a nice room in the back that we've been preparing for you. That was Officer Burley I was talking to when you walked. in. He was putting the final touches on the room and told me that someone had broken in and had a party in there or something. In the church. That's right lad. Don't worry. The place is actually

in pretty good shape. Just head down the street and take the first ride up the hill. Don't worry, you can't get lost. You'll see the church as soon as you take that right. Beautiful view from that hill as the sun goes down. Give me a shout if you need anything. There's a working telephone up there and a desk space you can use as an office. Um, thank you. Frank. It was nice to meet you. You too, lad. Welcome to Wild Goldby. Stay clear of those ghosts, eh. Cora! How are you? Yeah. Though the mayor is a bit of an odd ball. Now, I know this wasn't part of the plan, but we're going to be living in the church itself. It's so odd, Cora. The design is

19th century English. Not something that we see often, let alone in a small outbacked town. It looks relatively intact. What is it? That's a shame. I thought your project was finished. This is why I came up earlier. I could have started the project later on. Never.

Okay, love. I should get back in there and check it out. I'll make it as livable as I can for your arrival. Me with any news. I love you too. We'll do. Well, hello, little fella. Anything I should know about the place?

Ain't no change in this place. Nothing good happens to those that try. Oh, he gave me a fright. When I turned around, an elderly man with a bushy beard that hid most of his face was standing with the gravestones, located next to the church. I walked toward him so that I could hear him better. It's been said that the first one that failed, had the roof collapsing on its congregation.

Men, women and children all crushed to death. And if they didn't die from the impact, they suffocated under the rubble. That's some interesting history. Though it's such a horrible event. They say that's when people started abandoning Walgolby. They said it was cursed. I didn't know who this old man was, but he seemed to have great information about the church. With how restrained the mayor was with information, I should certainly try and keep this guy

on side, as weird as he was pulling raw meat from his pocket to feed the raven. Do you know a lot about this town? This church. You should leave. I can't let him leave. Sir, I was brief that another restorer was here in the 60s. I can't find many records on him, though. Ugh, gone. Another meal for that accursed place. Gone?

Disappeared. Some people say he went walk about in the bush and lost his way. But I never saw him leave the place. Swallowed him whole, I reckon. And then the man left. I turned around to look in the direction of what he was looking at. When I turned back, he was gone. His raven was sitting on top of the bell tower, watching with intent. I knew that was just me being paranoid, but it certainly felt that way. I spent the next couple of hours unloading my car into the church, as dusk was soon to arrive. Once done, I locked up the church and set off on finding this back room the mayor was talking

about. Here's the room he was talking about. This door open. Who would put this bed in the way? Yep. I cleaned up the blood before I set everything up. I could it have come from. I could have sworn it was still slightly wet.

This thick, coppery smell emanated in the room for a while until I opened the window. While I cleaned the place, I noticed that there was no power. It was getting dark, so I hurried and set up the bed. I was exhausted from the trip up here, so an early night was exactly what I needed. I could call the mayor in the morning about the power. Perhaps I could ask him about the strange man in the graveyard. I could try and get a name and find out what relation he was with the church. I must say it was an odd start to my new start.

For now, I would try and get some rest. I dreamed of blood spots and ravens. What is that? A weird noise woke me, and my bladder took the opportunity to remind me that it sought attention. Being such an old building. The toilet was a long drop. and was located about 50 metres away from the church structure itself. I put on some shoes and a jacket as the night's chill was brisk.

I used my mobile phone's torch. But it wasn't much help due to the thick fog that it settled over, Will Gauby. Hello? Is anyone there? This really is an odd place. So that's four 19th century candelabras. A pulpit I cannot determine the age of. There is no design features that.

point to any style. Crudely made, goodness for that. The power came on of its own accord. I hadn't yet had a chance to report it to Frank. At the back of the church in the left-hand corner was a rectangle glow in the wall. I went over to inspect it and found that there must be a hidden door. I pushed and pulled around the area and couldn't seem to find a way in. After an hour of searching, I found there was what appeared to be a hole that had been covered by a thin sheet of paper. Within it, I could barely fit my finger, but a small protrusion allowed my finger to move a latch. Once I did this, the door opened itself. So many books, theological studies, written histories. Amazing. There was so much reading material in this space, I felt privileged to be standing in it,

as it was clearly built to protect the written histories of the church in the area. There was a small riding desk in the corner with a half-used candle. I proceeded over to it and found some journals tucked against the wall. I picked one up. The darkness torments me. The avatar perches on the cross, always watching, spying for the black one. It is not the only secreted spy in this town. Ogilby is not what it seems.

People are not who they appear to be. The nights are getting longer. My sleep is getting shorter. I lay awake and hear them moving. I hear them breathing. I fear that it may be too late. Heath Crookwell. The handwriting was sloppy and messy.

As if the author was struggling to get it down. Heath Crookwell. Was that the restorer from the 60s? There was no date in the journal. Come in. G'day. How's things here? Thought I'd come and check in on you.

Realised just before the power hadn't been switched on, looks like it is now. Huh, hi Frank. Yeah, it came on not long ago. Thanks for coming. Yeah, no worries. Hey, uh, do you know someone named Heath Crookwell? Yeah, how do you know that name?

I found a diary amongst all the items here. Really? Well, that's odd. Yeah, well, he was the last person. person to stay here in the church. He was actually brought into town to do the same, restore it. He was here about a week and ran off. Rumor is he owed money back in the city and when he heard the collectors found out where he was, he took off. There was a man outside yesterday. He actually looked a bit homeless. He was feeding the raven by hand. He said that the church swallowed Mr. Crookwell.

That's ridiculous. I'm not sure who you spoke to. But we don't have any homeless people here in Goldie, certainly none that have a pet raven. Oh, I, well, I suppose he may not have been homeless. I explained some of the content that I had read from the journal, and he seemed to shrug most of it off. He told me that the rumour was that Mr. Crookwell was slightly mad to begin with anyway, and it was 40 years ago that he went missing. From his knowledge, the man had never been found.

Frank said his goodbyes and said he'd send around Officer Burley to take a look at the journal. I went on to read more of the journal. Some of the disturbing things Heath was writing, the man really did appear to be losing his mind. I managed to find out that it was he that had constructed the secret room. This was quite impressive, as he went missing after only a few days of being in Walgolby. In his paranoia, he had decided there were people within the populace of Wulgolby that wished him harm. It appeared as though Mr. Crookwell was a devout Catholic,

and this project of restoration was deeply personal. to him. He goes on to speak of demons walking the cemetery. Ah, I shouldn't laugh. This man was clearly delusional. I took a break from the journals to let Corrin know what I had found. I've only just read out of the one journal. There are a few more within the secret room. Yeah. But this place is an odd one. It's just something not quite right with this place. That is our real place. That is our

resident Raven, I proceeded to tell her about the events of the day prior, about the old man in the cemetery, his pet Raven who seemed to either be standing guard at the church or spying on me. The way that bird watched me was frightening. The whispers in the night. The way the mayor shrugged off the information regarding Mr. Crookwell, I guess. Well, I better head off, dear. I can't wait until you get here. We hung up and I walked outside to use the toilet. The raven was still there and called with encouragement and glared at me with those black eyes. God, gave me the hebi-jeebies. As I was walking toward the toilet, I noticed the figure in the distance. Standing in the shadow of the gums on the perimeter of the property,

sun had all but disappeared and it was hard to make them out in the gloaming. The last attempt of the sunlight creating a haze. What was that? Bird. I'm cutting to drive me, Matt. What is that? If anyone is there, I'd really appreciate it if you stopped doing this. This is the second night in a row.

The whispering did not stop. An odd fog hung in the air and was being pushed around by a slight breeze. I looked toward the town down the hill. There was not a single light on. I turned back to the perimeter of the bush. I couldn't be certain. but I thought I saw a figure standing there again. Hello!

As I drew nearer to the figure, I thought I recognised him as the same man that was in the cemetery on the first day. Hello, sir. I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name? Um, look, I'd really appreciate it if he could stop it. He seemed to dissipate right in front of me. I stepped forward to where I thought he was standing

and almost stepped in something. that is hard to explain. From what I could make out after studying it for a few minutes, is it was the corpse of a rabbit. Its body appeared to have been turned inside out. Its blood and sinew arranged as if it were on display. The way the legs were spayed and the head decapitated, and neatly sitting above the lot like a crown,

it was almost ornamental. I would be lying if I said I wasn't completely horrified, and that I didn't contemplate getting... in my car and getting out of there immediately. But something kept me there. I went back inside and double-checked the locks. I settled back into bed and drifted off to the Curlew's calls. Okay. Yes, I'm coming. Ooh. Morning. Ah. Uh, good morning. I'm Officer Burley. May you sent me around. Apparently, you've come into

possession of some evidence for the Crookwell disappearance. Oh, hi officer. Yeah, that's right. Please, come in. I have something else to talk to you about as well. Very well. Have a seat. Um, would you like a tea?

No, thank you. Uh, the seat or the tea? Both. Can I see the journal? Um, yeah, here you are. Mr. Crookwell was very obviously a sick man. Some of the ramblings in there are... Very strange.

He seemed to believe that there was a possession or some sort of conspiracy going on. He talks about a shadow person following him. You read it? Yes. You shouldn't have done that. This is evidence. Oh, I'm sorry.

It's all good. This is probably nothing. My grandfather was the investigator gang officer back then. He believes the guy to screw loose. went out under the bush, fell into a ravine. That's why, we can't find him. I'll put this in with the rest of the evidence. Um, do you think that I would be able to look at the rest of the evidence?

Seeing as this case is so old. Not sure that would be appropriate. Ah, it's just... It's just I think... It's just I think I've seen what he's talking about. What are you talking about? What you're talking about? Follow me.

Every night I've been here, been hearing and seeing weird things. Such as? Wow. The first night there was a blood stain under the bed frame that was pushed up against the bedroom door. That's impossible. I made that room spick and span before you arrived.

There certainly wasn't any bloodstain. I'm telling you there was. I had to clean it up. I have something happened after you cleaned it. Anyway, there was a strange homeless man in his pet raven that the mayor says he has never heard of. Apparently there are no homeless people in... That's right. Yes. Well, um, that first night I was woken by whispering.

Yesterday and last night there has been a figure standing on the edge of the bush. I can't make out who it is. The whispering is still there. And the most disturbing of all was this over here. What? Where is it? Where is... what? Last night, I...

I found the mutilated body of a rabbit. I looked ornamentally placed here on the ground. Almost like a ritual. Where is it? Sir, are you getting enough sleep? You don't look well. I'm fine. It's just these damn noises overnight keeping me up.

My wife is. the town doctor. Perhaps I'll get it to visit you. She's more of a doctor of the body and not the mind, but I'm sure she can help. I'm not delusional. I'm not crazy. I never said you were. I just think you are confused. I'm sorry. You may be right about the sleep. No. Please don't worry. Please don't trouble your wife. I'm fine. I'll try and get an early night. tonight. Okay, well, here's my number. Give me a call if you need anything or find anything else. I'm taking this evidence. Rest up. Was he right? Was it just a lack of sleep making me see these things? Was the rabbit just a part of an overactive imagination? What with the journal material? I don't know.

All I know is that I need to read the rest of these journals. Perhaps I can get to the bottom of what is going to on with me. Maybe I'll take a walk to clear my head. Do what? Cora? What are you talking about? Please, please stop. Foyocon shoot. Fire complete, foken shoes. I don't know what you talking about. Fire complete! Please! Stop! 11. 11. Still the middle of the night. That dream was... well, who the hell would that be at this hour?

Hello? Is anyone there? If there were some kids playing games, I was not impressed. Going on. Please, just leave me alone. Please, just leave me alone. Oh my God! It's still 1-11.

Hang on. It's Thursday morning. It was Wednesday morning. Have I lost the whole day? How the hell does this happen? Why are you in here? You know why I'm here. I don't think I do.

Please kindly ask you to leave. Is that the rabbit I saw in the bush on that plate? Was that you who left it there? Just food for your raven? You know why I'm here. What is your name, sir? You know my name. You know why I'm here.

You know where she is. You know what you did. The Crookwell? Are you here? I was a you who left that at my front door last night. Just leave. I left that behind. That's not how it works, Jordan.

Us now. He lifted a crooked finger and pointed to the bedroom. His raven was ripping flesh off the rabbit that is laid out in its ornamental pose on a plate. I'd kept it deep down. for so long. I tried to... I tried to stop it.

It changed my mind. He just sat there with a grin on his face. The sound of the flames was coming from the bedroom, and I tried to shut it out. Tried to keep the memories away, like I had for so long. I walked into the bedroom, flames all around her.

Couldn't feel the heat. I couldn't take in the rest of it. All I could see. was her blackened face. Cora. He rings with it. And with evil, there must come. A reckoning.

I didn't want this to happen. I love you. Please, do anything to have you back with me. The heart again. Did you get it all? Sure did. All of his stuff is down in evidence. There was obviously something deeply wrong with him.

He told me his wife would be joining him on the project. I made some calls. His wife died over a year ago. Housefire. Investigators are unsure how it started. And now he's been missing for a week. Seems like a repeat of the past. You should have heard some of the things he was saying, Frank.

Blood stains, shadow people, mutilated animals. Homeless people with pet ravens? If you ask me, I don't think he was sick. I think? He was guilty, after killing his wife in the house fire. Well, that'd certainly be a story, eh?

Did I show you the voicemail? He left me the night he disappeared? No. Show me. Well, missing person's report is filed. Searchers didn't find anything. Not that they wouldn't bush this dince.

Well, either way, the place is ready in case the government sends us another city slicker. Oh, thank you, Jay. Back to it then, I guess. Hey Root. Oh, Roe. Tell you, mum, I expect that delicious trifle at the council meeting next Friday. We'll do, boss.

That is it, my dear. The sacrifice. We will be released. Uh, Henry? Now, I think it's time we end this. Thank you for you. Your company and your ears. We couldn't have done this without you.

Yes. I was forced to take their lives. But I carry them with me. Perhaps now it could be the end. Just breathe, Shelley, in, out. I can't believe what... Where did it go? Where's the manor gone?

Henry? Where are you? What is happening? I can't believe this. I can't believe this. After The Gloming is a production of dissonance media and the other stories. The Whispering Church was written by James Barnett, aka Jimmy Horrors. James is the creator-producer of the Night's End podcast and After the Gloming.

He is also a writer, voice actor, and more recently an audio producer on the other stories podcast. You can connect with him on social media at Jimmy Horrors. For more info on James' projects, head to James Barnett Creative.com. Jordan Fisher was performed by James Barnett. Cora Fisher was performed by Nina Nicolich. Mayor Frank Golding was performed by Zane Pinner. Officer Burley was performed by Edward Stokes. Hobo was performed by Zach Lyle

Henry Blackwood was performed by Xander Schweig Shelley Stevenson was performed by Alexandra Elroy After the gloaming script was written by James Barnett Sound production and editing was completed by James Barnett Theme music was scored by Duncan Muggleton and produced by James Barnett Music and sound effects were provided by Epidemic Sound, Soundstripe and Free Sound If you have enjoyed the episode, please spread the word to anyone you feel may enjoy it, and please support the show by leaving a review, giving a five-star rating.

To support the show and gain access to all episodes now, add free, and a bonus episode, head over to patreon.com forward slash nightsend podcast. This episode is brought to you with a Creative Commons Attribution, non-commercial, no derivatives license. Don't change it, don't sell it, but by all means, share the hello. of it. Stay horrific everyone.