WEBVTT

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The Suspense.

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Mr. Ronald Coleman, a star of the Dunnage Horror,

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a suspense play produced, edited, and directed by William Spears.

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Come in, Dunnage, Massachusetts.

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Come in, Dunnage.

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Good evening. This is Henry Armitage.

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I'm speaking to you...

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Dr. Rice, please close the window.

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I'm speaking to you from my laboratory on the slopes of Sentinel Hill near Dunnage, Massachusetts.

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Present with me is Dr. Warren Rice, my distinguished colleague from the Mesquitonic University.

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We are now about a hundred yards from the summit of the hill,

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which is crowned by a huge table-like stone set in the center of a circle of stone pillars,

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a place of prehistoric worship.

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A moment ago, you may have heard the dogs of Dunnage Township barking,

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as we have heard them for three days and three nights.

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Dr. Rice and I know the horror which their barking portends,

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but the purpose of this broadcast is to make this unbelievable horror believable to you.

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I hope for your sakes and ours we are successful tonight.

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It is the eve of all Hallows.

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Tomorrow will be too late.

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Our time tonight is very short, so I'll speak only of those more recent events,

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which, believe me, may culminate at any moment in a climax too frightful to wholly contemplate.

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I will begin with the birth of Wilbur Waitley.

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It was the night of February the 2nd, 1921,

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candle-mas, toward dawn, when Lavinia Waitley, a deformed albino woman about 35 years old,

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gave birth to her dark, goatish-looking son in the crumbling Waitley farmhouse northeast of the village.

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No one attended her, no doctor or midwife.

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No one was with her, except her aged half-insane father, who was known as Wizard Waitley.

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So Wilbur came into this world under heaven-knows-what incantations, what appeals to what power.

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A week later, Wizard Waitley drove his sleigh into Dunedge Village

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and reported the event to a group of loungers in Osborne's general store.

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Hey, your grandson got yellow hair like Lavinia Waitley?

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No, takes after his father more. He's dark, dark.

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You never spoke of who his father might be now, did you?

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Oh, you know his father when the time comes.

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Lavinia's read and seen some things the most of you only talk about.

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Calculate her husband's as good as you can find this side of Alesbury.

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We don't be nosy, Wizard.

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Maybe it weren't in no church that none of you heard of.

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But you wouldn't ask no better churchwomen than Lavinia's.

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Why didn't he tell no wedding wizard? When was that?

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Not a wedding you'd hear of, Cory. Not a husband you'd hear of, neither.

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But let me tell you something.

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Someday you folks will hear a child of Lavinia's calling its father's name on top of Sentinel Hill.

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Prophecy? Or idle boasting by an insane old man?

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I know I ask a great deal when I ask you to believe that the arrival of an infant into that house of dire poverty and squalor

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could possibly constitute a horror and a threat to all our known worlds.

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Yet it has an earthly history.

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Perhaps through this history you will be able to understand the

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meaning of the word, and give it credence.

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Wilbur Waitley's growth was uncanny.

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But even if he had been an average child, he would have become in time an unnatural being,

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for he was surrounded from the first by the most malign influences.

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There was his grandfather, old Waitley, Wizard Waitley,

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who each Halloween climbed Sentinel Hill to the great circle of stone,

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and while the hills shook, stood holding a great book open on his arms, and shrieked into the wind. Shriek!

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Yogg-Sotho! Yogg-Sotho! Yogg-Sotho!

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Yogg-Sotho, that dreadful name first mentioned in the hideous forbidden book, the Necronomicon.

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And this wizard Waitley was Wilbur's teacher.

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The villagers began to notice curious things that were going on at the Waitley farmhouse,

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soon after Wilbur was born, old Waitley began to remodel the house.

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The abandoned upper storey was restored, and all the windows were tightly boarded up.

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And then, Wizard began to buy cattle in large numbers, both horses and cows.

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Yet the livestock on the farm didn't seem to increase.

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Young Lem Brown was one day curious enough to creep close to the house to count the Waitley herd.

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Dr. Armitage there want more than twelve cows, and them sick.

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Looked like they had the blight and funny wounds on them, like cuts.

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I heard something too, in the top part of Wizard's house, something like water slapping inside, only big, big like a seed.

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One other person went to the Waitley farm in the years before I met Wilbur, Dr. Ken Houghton of Aylesbury,

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who was called by Wilbur himself, who said that his grandfather was dying.

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Dr. Houghton found the old man in a bedroom on the ground floor, and Wilbur with him.

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While outside the window, a legion of Whippoorwills cried loudly and rhythmically, endlessly.

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Wilbur spoke about the sound.

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Suddenly whistling time with his breathing now.

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They're ready, listen, doctor.

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They know his soul's going out, they're waiting.

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Yes, Wilbur, that's an interesting superstition. Late in the year for them too.

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When he goes, if they catch him, they'll keep laughing till break of day.

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If they don't catch him, they'll quiet down.

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You mean you believe that...

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In just a minute, I think he's conscious.

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Yes, the bird's changed when his breathing changed, like I said.

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Willy, Willy, Willy!

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I'm here.

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More space, Willy. Remember, more space soon.

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Yes, I'll build it.

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You grows, but that grows faster. It'll be ready to serve you soon, Willy.

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I know.

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But remember, when it's time, you open up the gates to Yog Sothoth with a long chant.

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The one on page 7 and 51 of the book.

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But mind you, feed it enough, because if it gets out before you open to Yog Sothoth, it's all over.

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It's now you.

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He's going now.

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He's dead, Willy.

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No, sir.

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The birds, they didn't catch him.

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Yes, he's free. He's gone.

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It was the winter following Wizard Waitley's death that I first met Wilbur.

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He came in person to the library at Miskatonic University to consult a copy of the hideous Necronomicon,

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which was kept there in its Latin version, as printed in Spain in the 17th century.

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I tell you, when he came into my office, I was appalled at his appearance.

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Eight feet tall, shabby, dirty, bearded.

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But I was even more appalled by his voice when he spoke to me.

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I wrote you a letter a month past, Doctor. I wanted a loan of the book.

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Well, that's a book that's never loaned from this library. I doubt if it is from any library.

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Well, I have to see it then.

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Very well, it's kept right here.

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As you know, there are only three covers of this book in existence. That's why we're careful.

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Here, you can look at it on this table.

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Wizard said it would be on page 751.

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What? What is it you're looking for?

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The formula, the long chant, the one that opens the gate to Yog-Sothoth.

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I felt a wave of fright as tangible as a draft from the tomb.

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He seemed, humph, like the spawn of another dimension, like something only partly of mankind,

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linked to black gulfs beyond all spheres of force and matter, space and time.

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Presently, he raised his head and spoke again.

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It's here, all right, but I'll have to have a copy.

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That paragraph there? I don't know.

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Do you know Latin, Doctor?

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Yes, certainly.

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Then read it, Doctor. Let's hear how you make it out.

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All right, that shouldn't be difficult. Let's see.

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Nor is it to be thought that man is the oldest or the last of Earth's masters.

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The old ones were, and the old ones shall be.

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Not in the spaces that we know, but between them.

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But only Yog-Sothoth knows the gate.

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Yog-Sothoth is the gate to where the old ones broke through of old.

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Their hands are at your throat, yet ye see them not.

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Doctor Armitage, you see, I reckon I've got to take that book home.

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There's things in it I've got to try, and you can't hold me up.

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No, I'm sorry.

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I tell you, Doctor, I'll have the book sooner or later, no matter what.

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You see, it that's waiting for me at home won't wait much longer.

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It was a week later that I was awakened suddenly by the fierce yelping of the great watchdog on the campus,

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followed by a sound from a wholly different throat, a scream.

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And I knew instantly that Wilbur had come back for the Necronomicon.

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I hastened into my clothes and rushed across to the library where a crowd had gathered before the smashed window of my office.

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Inside there was a fearful groaning and growling, and some instinct warned me that what was taking place there was not for unfortified eyes to see.

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I brushed back the crowd, motioning only to Professor Rice to come in with me.

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When we opened the study door, Professor Rice screamed.

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No, Doctor Armitage, no, I can't.

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Come, come, come, close the door.

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We can't let them see.

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She's alive, but not what her...

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What a job that dog's done.

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I want him to bits.

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What a horrible sound that moaning you.

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Suppose we ought to call a doctor?

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A doctor? A doctor for that?

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No doctor in the world would know what to do for that.

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Look, Armitage, it's not human, nor animal.

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Where did it come from?

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Can you tell me? Can you tell me what it is?

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No, I couldn't tell what Wilbur Waitley was.

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The thing that lay half bent on its side in a pool of greenish-yellow dickiness was nine feet tall.

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The dogs had torn off all the clothing and some of the skin.

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It was partly human beyond a doubt, with very manlike hands and head, but...

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But the torso and lower parts of the body were fabulous.

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Its chest had the leathery hide of a crocodile or alligator.

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But below the waistline, the skin was covered with coarse black fur.

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And from the abdomen, long greenish-gray tentacles.

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The limbs terminated in ridgy-veined pads that were neither hooves nor claws.

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And as Dr. Rice and I stood staring at this presence,

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the whipper-wheels began to cry in unison outside the study window.

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And then the thing on the floor roused and mumbled.

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Oh, God.

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Oh, God.

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Oh, God.

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Oh, God.

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How much did you give him, Mr. White?

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I even didn't. The whipper-wheels.

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Listen.

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Oh, he's dead now.

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Look. Look, Rice. Look what's happening.

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He's disintegrating us.

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Of course.

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Fast, too. Fading away.

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Because he isn't made of matter as we know it on Earth.

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I guess he took after his father. So there'll be nothing left.

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His father? What was he?

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What was his father?

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I daren't think.

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I thought then that what came into our world with Wilbur Waitley left with him.

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I forgot what he himself had told me of it,

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which was waiting in the field house Wizard Waitley had built,

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where the cattle were driven to disappear.

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But Wilbur Waitley left a diary,

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written in a strange alphabet resembling Sanskrit.

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And I worked on off and on for weeks to decipher it.

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And finally, I read the following passage written by Wilbur

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when he was no more than eight years old.

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That upstairs is more ahead of me than I had thought it would be,

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and is not like to have much Earth brain.

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I can see it a little when I make the sign

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or blow the powder of Ivangazi at it.

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And it is like them I see Halloween on the hill.

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I wonder how I shall look when the Earth is cleared

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and there are no Earth beings.

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Maybe like that upstairs looks which has no body,

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even fed with all the blood.

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One morning in a cold sweat of terror,

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I called Dr. Rice to my house and told him,

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we have to destroy what's in that farmhouse.

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Why can't we just leave the thing locked up there?

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The house is boarded tight.

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Yes, but you think boards will hold it?

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Don't you realize, man, it hasn't been fed?

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It hasn't had blood since the 18th of September

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when Wilbur Waitley came here to die.

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We left for Dhanesh that night,

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and we've been here on Sentinel Hill ever since,

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working desperately to discover the formula in time.

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But a week ago tonight, shortly after dawn...

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Yes, hello?

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Dr. Armitage, this is Lem Brown.

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I was just up beyond the Glen, doctor.

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Look in the mirror.

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I'm here to see you.

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I'm here to see you.

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This is Lem Brown. I was just up beyond the Glen, doctor,

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looking for cows I lost last night.

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Yes, Lem?

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Well, doctor, something's been there.

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Smells like thunder, and there's prints in the rod.

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Great round prints, big as baleheads,

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like an elephant has been along.

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Anything else, Lem?

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That's all I see, except bushes and trees

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pushed back from the rod, like a house was drug-along.

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Did you hear anything?

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Yes, long toward morning,

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I heard a sound over toward Waitley's place,

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a kind of ripping or tearing of wood,

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like a big box was being opened up.

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Chancey, he heard it, too.

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Lem, who lives nearest the Waitley farm?

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Well, that'd be Elmer Fry's place.

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Well, he's on this line, too, isn't he?

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Hang on, and I'll ring him.

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Yes, Dr. Armitage, this is Central.

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I'm trying to get Elmer Fry, Central.

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Doctor, he must be out somewhere, and his whole family.

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I was ringing there an hour ago.

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Earl Sawyer saw Elmer's cows stampeding in Cold Spring Glen.

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Oh, you didn't get him, hmm?

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All right.

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But if you hear or see anything more, let me know.

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I'll be here working all day.

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Price! Price!

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Oh, my God.

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Price! Price! Oh, wake up.

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It's loose. It's out of the house.

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One family gone already.

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We have to work.

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Pray God we find that formula in time.

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A week since it broke loose.

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A week of terror and panic here in Dunnage Township.

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Each night it moves about the countryside,

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leaving the trees crushed in a 30-foot swathe,

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as though by a moving mountain.

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Leaving the trees in the ground,

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it's like a

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a

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moving mountain, leaving its monstrous tracks

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on a trail of tarry stickiness.

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Leaving crushed and gutted farmhouses,

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and whole herds of cattle drained of blood.

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Well, ladies and gentlemen, that is the story to this moment.

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And tonight is Halloween.

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Tonight we are here to...

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Just one moment, please.

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Dr. Rice, did you hear something?

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Did the window close? No?

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Well, we'll throw it open.

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I thought so.

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Listen.

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The sound from a thousand bending trees.

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Sound like the sea moving across a forest.

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Yes.

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Yes, it's coming here.

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Of course.

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All Hallows, it comes to Sentinel Hill.

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Dr. Rice, I'll try the formula and the powder from the altar stone.

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I want you to stay here at the microphone and report what you see.

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Very well, Dr. Armitage.

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Oh, wait a minute before I go.

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To any scientists who may be listening to me,

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if I fail, there is a possible alternative formula

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in Falconer's mystical formulae of the Middle Ages on page 24.

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Listen.

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There are the Whipplewheels. I better get out there.

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Take over, Dr. Rice.

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Yes. I'll do as well as I can, Armitage.

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Good luck.

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Ladies and gentlemen, Dr. Armitage is climbing to the top of the hill,

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to the altar stone.

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I can see him plainly for the moon is high and the night clear.

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Down the hill toward the dark village,

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I can see the grasses and shrubbery bending down,

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marking the monster's ascent.

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It moves quite fast,

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and I feel a proximity to phases of being utterly forbidden.

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Now, Dr. Armitage stands now on the altar stone

22:54.980 --> 22:57.980
and is holding the powder, which, if the books are correct,

22:57.980 --> 23:00.980
will make this thing for an instant visible.

23:00.980 --> 23:04.980
It is quite close to him now, perhaps 20 yards or less.

23:04.980 --> 23:06.980
He lifts his hands.

23:06.980 --> 23:08.980
He brings the powder in a wide arc.

23:08.980 --> 23:13.980
I can see. Oh, no! No!

23:13.980 --> 23:23.980
Dr. Rice, come in, Dunnage.

23:23.980 --> 23:27.980
Ladies and gentlemen, this is your suspense announcer.

23:27.980 --> 23:30.980
Due to condition... Oh, just a moment, please.

23:30.980 --> 23:44.980
One moment, please. Dr. Rice, can you hear me?

23:44.980 --> 23:47.980
Yes, I can hear you.

23:47.980 --> 23:51.980
Yes, for a moment I was overcome when I saw...

23:51.980 --> 23:54.980
Ladies and gentlemen, perhaps you can hear now

23:54.980 --> 23:57.980
the incantation of Dr. Armitage. Listen!

23:57.980 --> 24:00.980
Listen!

24:27.980 --> 24:30.980
The Quibblewills mean death,

24:30.980 --> 24:33.980
and Dr. Armitage is walking back here now.

24:33.980 --> 24:38.980
So we know that whatever it was, it is gone.

24:38.980 --> 24:41.980
It is dead.

24:41.980 --> 24:43.980
We can be thankful indeed.

24:43.980 --> 24:47.980
You see, I saw Dr. Armitage.

24:47.980 --> 24:50.980
He was walking back here.

24:50.980 --> 24:52.980
He was walking back here.

24:52.980 --> 24:54.980
He was walking back here.

24:54.980 --> 24:57.980
You see, I saw Dr. Armitage.

24:57.980 --> 25:00.980
Yes, did you? Did you see it, Dr. Rice?

25:00.980 --> 25:03.980
I saw it large, yes.

25:03.980 --> 25:05.980
What did it... what did it look like to you?

25:05.980 --> 25:06.980
It looked...

25:06.980 --> 25:07.980
Here.

25:07.980 --> 25:09.980
Like something made of squirming ropes,

25:09.980 --> 25:14.980
but bigger than a barn and shaped well like an egg,

25:14.980 --> 25:17.980
and dozens of legs, like barrels,

25:17.980 --> 25:19.980
but half closed when it stepped,

25:19.980 --> 25:21.980
and nothing solid about it,

25:21.980 --> 25:25.980
and at least 15 or 20 mouths or trunks opening and closing,

25:25.980 --> 25:28.980
but what was it?

25:28.980 --> 25:31.980
Oh, kind of... a kind of force.

25:31.980 --> 25:35.980
A kind of force that doesn't belong in our part of space.

25:35.980 --> 25:39.980
Did you... did you notice the half face on top?

25:39.980 --> 25:41.980
Half face, like a human face.

25:41.980 --> 25:44.980
Very large, but yes, quite... quite human,

25:44.980 --> 25:47.980
and quite like Wilbur's, like all the weightless.

25:47.980 --> 25:49.980
Then it was... it was...

25:49.980 --> 25:52.980
That's right, it was Wilbur's twin brother,

25:52.980 --> 25:55.980
and you saw what three weeks' growth had done,

25:55.980 --> 25:57.980
and it was the child of Lavinia's

25:57.980 --> 26:00.980
who called its father's name on Sentinel Hill,

26:00.980 --> 26:02.980
as Wizard Waitley prophesied.

26:02.980 --> 26:05.980
You heard it calling, Yogg-Sotho.

26:05.980 --> 26:07.980
Hmm.

26:07.980 --> 26:11.980
Ladies and gentlemen, this night is over.

26:11.980 --> 26:13.980
It is All Saints Day.

26:13.980 --> 26:19.980
May Heaven bless us all.

26:19.980 --> 26:24.980
The Dunnage Horror with Ronald Coleman

26:24.980 --> 26:50.980
as your star of The Fence.

26:50.980 --> 26:54.980
This is the Armed Forces Radio Service.