Voices in the Dark: The Horrors of Dark Fantasy (1941-1942) Part Seven-Finale

by Jose Cruz

28. Rendezvous with Satan

Original Broadcast: May 29, 1942

Cast: Ben Morris (Carl Fisher), Bloyce Wright (David West), Eleanor Naylor Caughron (Laura Fisher), Fred Wayne (Satan), Muir Hite (Reverend Brooks), and Georgianna Cook (Secretary). 

Reverend Brooks is delivering a solemn eulogy at the funeral of Carl Fisher. He comforts the guests by saying that although Carl led an illicit life, he will still find peace “in the coldness of death.” Somebody should have told Carl that because soon a woman is screaming after seeing the cadaver’s hand stirring in the coffin!

Meanwhile on the River Styx, Carl’s spirit is sailing down into the depths of Hell upon a silk-lined boat steered by none other than Old Scratch himself. “They have your body in a church, Carl,” Satan muses. “Imagine. You in a church.” Carl finally starts to grasp the reality of the situation. “You devil!” he hisses at Lucifer’s cutting jibes. “That’s irony!” Satan retorts, cruelly adding that Carl’s daughter—whom he had refused to bury in a churchyard—now resides in heaven while his soul occupies a less honorable space. Carl insists that he was forced into the sinful path that led him to fire and brimstone and makes a bargain with the devil that he can turn his whole life around if given the chance. Satan agrees, but only on the stipulation that Carl will be able to fully redeem himself in 24 hours. 

Oh, how that Devil loves his clauses!

On Earth, Carl’s wife Laura is talking with one of their mutual friends, David West, after the service. Coming upon Carl’s crypt, the pair are stunned to find the doors unlocked and his casket empty. “Carl said he would always come back,” David recalls, even if it meant beating the Devil himself. Back at home, Laura hears the sounds of an electric razor and finds her resurrected hubby sprucing himself up. (Step one to redeeming your soul: Always have a clean shave.) Carl initially has no memory of his death at all, but bit by bit he remembers being shot in cold blood at his office and the episode in Hades. 

Just then David enters the apartment while Carl holes himself away. David is delirious with passion, ranting about his immense love for Laura and how they should be together now that that “criminal” Carl is out of the picture. David knows that Laura has feelings for him too because of an incident that occurred during a party at David’s place when all the female guests gave him a little peck but Laura, being the naughty pussycat, waited until her husband had left the room before she embraced her host. 

Hearing noises from the next room, David begins to think that some other Lothario has stolen his beloved’s heart. Satan begins to speak to Carl from the netherworld, prodding him into believing that Laura has been having an affair behind his back. After David leaves and Laura explains the situation, Carl earnestly tells her “It’s alright, dearest. I believe you.” The organ chirps accordingly, signaling that Carl has retrieved his soul from the sordid depths he previously dwelled in.

The next day Carl enters his office, giving his secretary a good scare that sends her shrieking out of the building. David is there to anticipate his arrival, hardly shaken by his formerly deceased friend’s appearance. David tells Carl that he will happily look the other way and even leave Laura with him if he’ll adjust his will so that David will acquire half of his business. 

It’s then that Carl realizes that it was David who murdered him, but Carl refrains from doing anything that would land him back in the hot seat. David pulls a gun on Carl and shots ring out. Laura arrives just at that moment with her own gun and manages to shoot David, but not before several fatal blows take Carl down. As his final living act, Carl asks Laura to give him the gun so that all blame for the murder will be placed on him. After Carl passes away, Satan solemnly concedes that the man has won his bet. 

This episode sees Bishop returning to the melodramatic—but economical—storytelling that made the series’ first episode, “The Man Who Came Back,” such a joy to listen to. The role of odious villain that had originally been essayed by regular lead Ben Morris is here played by newcomer Bloyce Wright, and he shows that he was more than game for the challenge. Morris plays the wronged hero in a nice twist, and the final scene between the two actors sparks as the merciless West faces the born-again Fisher in a stand-off that is fascinating for going against the grain of other genre tales: Carl doesn’t try (or even wants) to hurt David for what he’s done, simply acknowledging his belief that the ne’er-do-well will meet his karmic executioner soon enough.

There’s another moment earlier in the episode that also carries an air of sophistication in the depiction of its characters. During the scene of Carl’s gradual recollection of his death and spiritual adventure, we are hearing him attempting to grapple with an incredible situation, one that implies that he is just a small, insignificant soul in the face of powers that control his very existence. It’s a fleeting impression, but once made it resounds throughout the rest of the drama.

That said, Bishop isn’t immune from throwing in some hand-wringing dialogue that reeks of barnstormers. Depending on your tastes, this may be a good thing, but not even Wright with his capable skills can make the line “You belong to me now. Yes. Yes, I say, you're mine!” seem like anything but the type of writing solely meant to elicit hisses and jeers from the peanut gallery. Bishop and the cast keep the histrionics down to a minimum though, and the conclusion that sees the irascible Devil bowing his head (cause he knew that he’d been beat) and Carl presumably going to heaven is a heartening change of pace. 

29. I Am Your Brother 

Original Broadcast: June 5, 1942

Cast: Ben Morris (Dr. Julius Zamek), Bloyce Wright (Stephan Hamlin), and Muir Hite (Carl Miller). 

Dr. Julius Zamek is giving an important lecture on blood loss before he is forced to reprimand a student for balancing his bank account during class. Relieving his woes with colleague Carl Miller, Julius is reminded of Stephan Hamlin, a brilliant student of his that was on the rise before his untimely death. Carl notes that Julius did not seem surprised or saddened by the news of Stephan’s passing; if anything he appeared to be relieved. 

And that’s not all. Julius shows his friend that he now has Stephan’s brain preserved in a jar. He says that it was the “best developed human brain I’ve ever seen,” so the fact that he has it stowed away in his office is less creepy because it’s for SCIENCE. Carl is astounded to see that the gray matter moves as if alive. As if it wasn’t already apparent, Julius goes on to explain that Stephan Hamlin was something more than human.

Julius originally met Stephan when he was a child in Kansas. Stephan was eight years old but for some bizarre reason would only crawl about the floors like an infant despite the fact that he was perfectly capable of walking. Some said that the boy suffered from a mental handicap but Julius never believed this for a second. While hanging out with the kid, Julius is jostled when he sees Stephan standing before him and addressing him with the voice of an adult. “You don’t like me,” the boy states. Stephan claims that he has had these abilities since birth but never exercised them before because he didn’t find any interest in the effort. 

As a further demonstration of his powers, Stephan conjures a horrible vision of a derailed train, forcing Julius to shield his eyes in order to blot out the “unspeakable horror.” He blacks out and upon awaking discovers that there was an actual train that fell into a gorge in Paris. The insinuation that Stephan had a hand in this is rather ambiguous… or maybe that was just me falling asleep.

Julius comes into contact with the weird wunderkind again when Stephan is a student at the college where Julius is teaching. Stephan has become cold and distant from the rest of the pupils, the source of many a-rumor from the judgmental majority. Stephan invites Julius to his dormitory and the professor marvels over a wonderful essay on human diseases the lad has composed. Stephan accomplished it all through his own intrinsic knowledge. 

Stephan finally reveals his true nature: he is an alien being and he has been searching for his spiritual brother for his entire life. He has complete knowledge of the universe and even provides details to Julius concerning the apocalypse that he has planned (?) for mankind, yet he knows nothing of his own demise. Julius has him covered on that point. Just as he’s revealing his plan of doom and destruction, Stephan is cut down by a bullet from the heroic professor. With his dying breath Stephan refers to Julius as his brother.

I’ll be honest: I actually started dozing during this episode. This certainly didn’t help me sort out the notes that I had written or to remember some of the story’s finer points. The performances are uniformly solid. Morris and Hite are always reliable (the latter doesn’t get much to do besides the establishing scene) and Wright demonstrates his able talent at characterization in his second episode for the program as the enigmatic Stephan. The fact that their competent acting is derived from one of Bishop’s lesser scripts actually doesn’t hurt the overall production. 

The giddiness or suspense that fueled other dramas like “Funeral Arrangements Completed”—an energy that would otherwise mask any narrative shortcomings—is short on hand here, but the prevailing somber mood is consistent throughout, and despite the fact that Stephan’s alien qualities are a little vague Wright manages to build him up into a mysterious and even threatening character by virtue of his forceful, measured vocalizations. 

Though at times it feels more like a sketch than a story, “I Am Your Brother” coasts along thanks to its moderately strong thespian talent. 

30. The Sleeping Death

Original Broadcast: June 12, 1942

**No Cast Listed**

Paul Wentworth is laid up with a sore leg in the office of Dr. Clarence Mason. Although the physician attempts to calm his patient’s nerves, he is more than direct in explaining to the man that his limb will very likely have to be amputated in order to prevent the poison in the leg from reaching his brain. Something seems to be amiss when Mason begins asking Paul if he has any relatives that he should notify; Paul has none. 

To add to that, Paul can’t even seem to recall how he ended up in Mason’s care. The doctor is quick to tell him that he fainted in the street and was rushed to his hospital. It’s not just any healthcare facility though: Paul is in the private-island Fairchild Sanitarium, a place that has been closed for years. “Has it?” Mason teases. Paul used to work as an orderly at the sanitarium… and so did Mason. The doctor asks Paul to study his face carefully. With no small amount of shock Paul recognizes Mason is really Abraham Holtz, the physician he testified against in court. 

Mason/Holtz shows that he’s a little unhinged himself. Thinking that Paul was trying to win the heart of lead doctor Von Sickle, Holtz did the natural thing by killing the old man though the cause of death remained undetermined by the authorities. “They’re so easily baffled,” sneers the mad medico. Paul can’t understand how Holtz escaped his life imprisonment at the state penitentiary, and Holtz doesn’t let on to how he managed it. Paul makes a break for the exit but finds he can’t move. The “sedative” that Holtz has administered is working nicely.

In a short flashback to the trial we hear Paul claim Holtz had “[become] more like a devil;” reports of the doctor’s mistreatment of his staff served as the instigating event of the judicial proceedings. Holtz asserts that the hospital workers were treated like beasts because they were beasts, and just as he corners Paul with another hypo at the ready he mutters evilly “What will happen next will probably amaze you,” adding with quiet wickedness “At first I was only going to take one of your legs…” 

Later, Miss Linda Young arrives at the hospital to interview for an open position. A nurse approaches her and tries to desperately warn her away from the wretched place. The arrival of “Dr. Mason” cuts her off. The doctor tries to explain the nurse’s hysteria away by telling Linda that the lady’s brother was a surgeon at the hospital who was dismissed that afternoon for carrying through with an operation that Mason had forbidden. But the villain has a tougher time accounting for why the rattled nurse referred to him as “Dr. Holtz.”

By this time Linda has seen through the charade. A former employee at Fairchild herself, Linda calls out Holtz for the dirty devil that he is. Realizing the game is up, Holtz breaks out of character and addresses Linda as his true self. He hints that Paul has already been admitted to his little hospital, and promises that Linda will be having a reunion with her old colleague “much sooner than you expect.”

Wow, talk about potential! It’s a bloody shame that “The Sleeping Death” should only exist in this abbreviated version, as the extant scenes detailed above are just as thrilling and sharp (if not moreso) than any of the other scripts Scott Bishop had written for the show. The concept of the avenging doctor may not exactly be fresh product, but the program is attacked with such energy by the actors that one can’t help but squirm in delight at every turn of the screw. 

Mason/Holtz is probably Ben Morris’ best characterization in the whole run. We’ve seen him play some dastardly dogs before like Ken in “The Man Who Came Back” and Barker in “Superstition Be Hanged,” but whereas those were treated as our slightly-sympathetic protagonists, Holtz is all evil all the time. He doesn’t reach the outlandish heights of Garland Moss’ Dr. Luther from “Spawn of the Subhuman,” but his slinky, sardonic approach is just as tickling as that nutjob’s ravings. I especially loved his response to Linda when she tells him he had a fair trial: “Are you so very certain I did?” The way Morris says this drips with acid.

Perhaps it is only appropriate that Dark Fantasy’s run should “end” in this manner. Without an exciting climax provided for us, we listeners are encouraged to use our fertile imaginations to dream up the horrible fate that likely befell our wicked doctor. Was there a high-speed chase that ensued between captor and heroine that ended in Holtz’s death by cliffside plunge? Did he try to toss Linda into a pit of his cruel “operations” only to find himself at the mercy of his mutilated victims? Would we discover that all of the events were the products of Holtz’s diseased mind as he rotted away at the penitentiary, the guards lamenting over how the poor doc believed he had escaped all along?

The choice, dear listener, is up to you!

31. **Title Unknown** LOST

Original Broadcast: June 19, 1942

BEST IN SHOW

Best Performances

1. Dr. Luther, “Spawn of the Subhuman” (Garland Moss)
2. Clarence Mason/Abraham Holtz, “The Sleeping Death” (Ben Morris)
3. Carl Fisher, “Rendezvous with Satan” (Ben Morris)
4. Barker, “Superstition Be Hanged” (Ben Morris)
5. Mary Billings, “Debt from the Past” (Jane Wyatt)
6. Philip Blake, “The Man Who Came Back” (Eugene Francis)
7. Winston Everly, “Convoy for Atlantis” (Murillo Schofield)


Best Scripts
1. “The Demon Tree”
2. “W is for Werewolf”
3. “Rendezvous with Satan”
4. “The Edge of the Shadow”
5. “Pennsylvania Turnpike”
6. “The Man Who Came Back”
7. “Superstition Be Hanged”


Best Musical Accompaniment
“The Demon Tree”


Best Featured Creature
Stephan, the Gorilla of the Opera!


Top Overall Episodes
1. “The Demon Tree”
2. “Spawn of the Subhuman”
3. “W is for Werewolf”
4. “The Man Who Came Back”
5. “Funeral Arrangements Completed”
6. “The Man with the Scarlet Satchel”
7. “The Headless Dead”

*Special mention to “The Sleeping Death” for what it could have been!

AFTERNOTE

Well, that was surprising.

It’s been years since I’ve listened to any of the Dark Fantasy shows, so revisiting them proved an enlightening experience, both in regards to what I remember of the program and what I have learned in the intervening time of auditory narratives. This has revealed some of the episodes (more than I initially thought there would be when I mounted this series, admittedly) were not quite as fresh and exciting as I recalled them; entries such as “Dead Hands Reaching” and “The Thing from the Darkness” lacked the punch that had been impressed on my mind when I stayed up late with nothing but my headphones and the shadows to keep me company. Still others, like “The Letter from Yesterday,” turned out to be even more boring the second time around!

But we’ve heard all that already. What is it that we can take away from Dark Fantasy?

For a grassroots effort that managed to wrangle national syndication just like the New York studio heavyweights like Lights Out! and Suspense, Scott Bishop’s program was certainly commendable for the hard work that was put in by its familial staff of actors and technicians. Though it never boasted a vast array of aural effects and Foley shocks or sometimes even the most polished of scripts, Dark Fantasy brewed some wonderful moments from its Midwestern witch’s cauldron that should earn it a place in the hallowed hall of horror radio shows.

Its staff of thespians was almost always in fine form, from such steadfast and endearing leads like Ben Morris and Eleanor Naylor Caughron to the delightfully colorful portrayals of character actors Muir Hite and Garland Moss. The stories would hearken back to time-honored tropes like zombies and reincarnation one week and in the next attempt to break the barriers of narrative and genre with fusions of acid-visioned science fiction (“The Cup of Gold”) and metafictional excursions into religion (“The House of Bread”). Dark Fantasy was nothing if not ambitious in its own way, and even when its limited resources became apparent the show’s heart was always in the right place.

It’s this aspect of the series that seemed to resonate the most with me in returning to its crackling terrors. It draws you into its grasp with the howling of a creepy organ and the promise of spooky stories, but in tuning in you can picture all the participants working together in a “Let’s put on a show” kind of camaraderie that provides you with a glimpse at the smiling wizards working behind the curtain. 

If you’ve had the opportunity to listen to Dark Fantasy, let us know what you thought. Have any memorable episodes? Have a say on any other radio shows of yesteryear that you shuddered along with? Tell us all about it in the comments! We thank you for joining us for the ride and hope that you enjoyed your stay.

Just don’t forget to turn the lights off when you leave. The voices only come out in the dark. 

Voices in the Dark: The Horrors of Dark Fantasy (1941-1942) Part Six

by Jose Cruz

22. Karari--LOST

Original Broadcast: April 17, 1942

23. The Screaming Skulls-- LOST

Original Broadcast: April 24, 1942

24. The Letter from Yesterday

Original Broadcast: May 1, 1942

**No Cast Listed

Adam Chase enters a library looking for a book on hydrokinetics and proceeds to act like a complete ass to comely librarian Cecily Marshall. He loudly apologizes to the other patrons and goes on to call Miss Marshall’s homestead a hick town, but she’s quick to show him what’s what when she easily rattles off the leading figures in the field after Adam laments that she probably doesn’t possess the resources to help him find the volume he needs.

Adam finds the librarian “darn cute” all of a sudden and thinks the natural thing to do now is ask the lady out for a date. And what’s his idea of good time? Going back to Cecily’s place so she can write down the notes he dictates from the book, seeing as how he is an inventor on the verge of a great discovery. Wow, what a winner he is! Astoundingly, Cecily accepts the offer. They stay up till one in the morning having themselves a gay old time, at which point Cecily reveals that her father was also an inventor, but he was ruined forever when someone else beat him to the patent just before he put his bid in.

After writing up the designs for his model, Adam heads off to Washington via train to put in his request for the patent. He yells out a marriage proposal to Cecily from the train and she says yes, proving that anything can happen in Dark Fantasy. Some time later, Cecily writes a letter speaking of her betrothal but remains apprehensive since she hasn't received any word from Adam. A radio broadcast reveals that Adam’s train was held up by gangsters, the engineer killed and unmentioned spoils plundered. The newscaster mentions that this incident took place 53 years to the day of a similar robbery.

Cecily calls the hotel Adam was due to stay in and is told that he checked out two weeks earlier. Her fiancée seeming to have vanished into thin air, Cecily searches for ten days but comes up with no further clues as to his whereabouts. Suddenly, Adam returns to their home looking frail and ill. He bemoans his sorry state and tells Cecily he wrote her about how his patent was usurped by another and that he pleaded her to come to him in Washington so that they could be married. Cecily never received this letter.

Two months later the happy couple has wedded and are renting a large house in the country. Exploring the attic, Adam finds an old-fashioned mailbag overstuffed with letters, some dating from the 1800s. Sifting through the parcels, Cecily finds a letter addressed from her father to Adam’s mother. Turns out the two were lovers at one point, and the message goes on to reveal that identical events occurred to both Adam and Cecily’s father in their attempts to complete their inventions. The exception is that Cecily’s father died lonely and miserable thinking that his love had forsaken him, never knowing that he was the victim of a supernatural mail snatcher (?) that attempted to break the present couple up in the same manner.

I think I might have been a little premature in dubbing “A Delicate Case of Murder” as the worst of the pack from Dark Fantasy’s run. “The Letter from Yesterday” is an incoherent mess of an undercooked idea. This episode runs more like a soap opera for the majority of its running time, which is bad enough, but its failings at suspense and mystery are further compounded by some of the densest writing that Scott Bishop has yet penned for the series. The whole romantic dynamic between Adam and Cecily is unintentionally risible, the notion that this seemingly brainy and independent lady would even give a chauvinistic creep like Adam the time of day is a massive stretching of credulity. As portrayed by the unlisted actor, Adam sounds like a hillbilly himself with a wad of tobaccy in his cheek, which only further adds to his charm.

The concept of Fate or some other dark force breaking up human relationships through the withholding of correspondence is not a bad idea in of itself, but its presentation at the climax feels so tangential that it ends up not conveying any sense of the ominous or the weird. This stinger could have had some bite if the drama leading up to it had utilized characters that we could invest ourselves in, but as it stands "The Letter from Yesterday" is a turgid account with a postscript of an ending that ultimately underwhelms.

25. The Cup of Gold

Original Broadcast: May 8, 1942

Cast: Ben Morris (Lee Saunders), Eleanor Naylor Caughron (Ruth Candish), Muir Hite (High Priest), and George Ande (Kanta).

It’s a close match between Truman Davis and John Mason during the intense golf tournament that has a radio audience listening aptly to the proceedings. In a literal masterstroke, Mason usurps old pro Davis’ place as reigning champ. There appears to be some commotion between the referee and judges regarding the gold trophy cup, and just as Mason goes to accept his prize he is shot down on the green.

Later in a hotel room, Ruth Candish stirs restlessly before a Mr. Lee Saunders comes calling at her door. He’s a sports writer doing some digging into the murder. He had followed Ruth back to her place after she almost ran her car into his on the drive back from the club. He suspects Ruth of the killing not just because of her suspicious behavior but because she wasn’t the original woman selected to hand the gold cup over to the tournament winner. The cup itself is of some intrigue--turns out it's made of actual solid gold and has some bizarre, alien writing on it. Ruth claims she remembers little of the incident. She can only recall waking up with the gun in her hand but insists she is not to blame.

Ruth tells Lee that she received a package containing three cones of incense that morning. Looking at the parcel, Lee notes that it was addressed to “Rotha Candish” and that she must have gotten it by mistake. Along with the incense are instructions telling to light one of the cones. Ruth said that she had done this earlier with the first cone and that she passed out shortly afterward. Lee’s the adventurous type though so he ignites the second cone despite Ruth’s protestations. Great plumes of smoke billow forth (“Look how it rolls in great clouds, hiding everything…”) and, choking, the two of them black out.

Upon awaking, the couple finds that they have been transported to some strange, new world. A figure known as Motah, the Holy One addresses Ruth and Lee as “Rotha” and “Leetha.” According to the old priest, they are on the planet of Vento, the bastard offspring that was spawned when Venus and Pluto collided eons ago, and the two humans are in fact the reincarnations of long-dead Ventonians. He explains that the incense has the power to transport beings to and from Vento as well as accomplishing other miraculous feats through the will of its bearer when lit. Motah also displays his “Ultra Penetrating Ray,” a great telescope that allows Lee to see the details of Earth ten million miles away, including the funeral of John Mason.

Dimming the lights, Motah shows Lee and Ruth some exclusive film clips from Vento’s recorded history, pointing out in a Minority Report-esque spin that this is why their planet never suffered from crime and evil. The footage shows the original Rotha speaking to her husband Kanta, a professional golf player! The couple distresses over the coming tournament and, sure enough, Kanta gets the short end of the putter and his opponent Yana takes home the gold. Rotha swears vengeance on Yana to be exacted at some indeterminate time in the future.

Motah reveals that he sent the incense to Earth-Ruth himself so as to see Rotha’s oath fulfilled. (So much for Vento’s spotless track record!) For her part, Ruth will be sent back to Earth to face the punishment for her crime. Lee has other ideas though and gives Motah a good old fashioned sock right in the kisser. He uses the last cone of incense and the magnifying scope of the Penetrating Ray to will Mason back to life (whom they see sitting upright in his coffin, no doubt sending many unfortunate guests to their graves in the process). Grabbing Ruth, Lee makes a final wish to return to the green hills of Earth.

Fin.

I think that incense wasn’t the only thing smoking up Scott Bishop’s office when he sat down at the typewriter to write this episode of Dark Fantasy. Matching and, at times, surpassing the irreverent insanity of “Spawn of the Subhuman,” “The Cup of Gold” is one trippy number that seems to have all the hallmarks of a hallucinatory journey, with everything from excursions across the galaxy to the dead coming back to life.

It’s fascinating to listen to; we’re essentially hearing an author let his story take control and go wherever it feels like it should. This doesn’t seem like the type of writing that occurs through careful planning and outlining. Bishop just opened up his skull and let all the weird, dusty knick knacks in that mental drawer come pouring out, for better or worse.

For the most part, it's for the better. Despite the bizarre quality of this episode, it still manages to adhere to its own lunacy and has a charming "Let's do this" attitude about it that ensures it's always a good time.

26. Funeral Arrangements Completed

Original Broadcast: May 15, 1942

Cast: Alf Daniels (Richard Longmaker), Eleanor Naylor Caughron (Emily Longmaker), Fred Wayne (Doctor Highley), Georgianna Cook (The Old Woman), and Muir Hite (Jason).

The Longmakers are called to a little hamlet when Richard’s obscure relative Aunt Priscilla passes away. Entering an old inn, the couple spot a figure sitting in a chair but become uneasy when they see the cigarette it’s holding has burnt down to the fingers. The sitter remains still; they realize with horror they must be seeing a corpse.

Just then innkeeper Jason pops up, but when the Longmakers direct his attention they see the figure in the chair has vanished. The Cockney-accented proprietor muses that it might have been the ghost of the inn’s original owner, Trafalgar. After having built the place, Trafalgar was murdered in the very same spot the couple indicated, stabbed by a servant girl through the chair’s back. Blood now drips from the area of the fatal strike; Jason says it’s been the third sighting in a month.

When Richard explains his business there, Jason marvels at the timeline: according to him, Priscilla has been dead the past five years. Her body was never found though, and some of the villagers claim that she lives on as a zombie. He also reveals that Dr. Highley, the agent through which Richard received this news, passed away himself two days prior to Priscilla. After getting directions to his aunt’s property at Maryville, the couple heads off… but not before noting that Jason has “deep, angry burns” on his knuckles where a cigarette might have rested.

Upon arriving, the Longmakers find the manse all boarded up. They go to an outdoor toolshed and find it surprisingly open. Emily is apprehensive, sensing another presence in their midst. Guided by candlelight, they find a trio of solid-black coffins with little silver handles and plates. Reading the inscriptions, Richard fearfully notes that two of them have their names on them with the day’s date. A gust of wind snuffs out the candle, advancing footsteps are heard, and Emily screams deliriously. A husky voice calls out to Richard. “Don’t let him hear you talking,” it warns.

Relighting the candle, Richard sees that he is the only one in the shed. One of the coffin lids starts to shift and the person inside chastises Richard to help him move it. Turns out it’s the good Dr. Highley, recovering from an attack by dastardly innkeeper Jason and hiding in one of the coffins in the ensuing confusion. Highley tells Richard that Jason murdered his aunt and left him for dead. He never left Maryville to accuse Jason because he never had enough evidence to indict him. Jason resorted to murder after discovering that Priscilla's estate was home to three tons of British silver left over from the American Revolution.

Revealing a trap door hidden underneath the hay-strewn floor, Highley guides Richard into the secret cellar which is also equipped with a quicklime pit. They recover Emily and come upon a glass coffin of sorts where old Aunt Emily’s body rests. Richard smells something funny, and it isn’t the quicklime. Highley breaks out into a mad laugh now that he has brought the whole family together.

Turns out the physician has been in cahoots with Jason the whole time. It took him five years to track down the last of Priscilla’s living relatives and with all of the Longmakers dead he plans on acquiring Maryville for himself. Too bad for Jason. Highley promptly knocks him over the head with a gun and dumps his body into the quicklime. Just as Highley goes to dispose of the couple, Emily awakens (from slumber or death is uncertain) and wreaks her vengeance on the evil doctor.

The passage of time has played its part in revealing some of the flaws inherent in “Funeral Arrangements Completed” (originally titled “Coffin for Two”), but it has done little to spoil the amount of glee to be derived from the Scooby Doo hijinks on hand. Bishop employs the same kitchen sink approach to his storytelling that he’s used in past entries, giving the narrative an unpredictability and colorful atmosphere that works in its favor.

For the most part. Bishop’s opening episode with the “the cigarette smoking ghost of the inn” only becomes confusing in retrospect. How could the sitter have been Jason when he came upon the Longmakers unexpectedly? What purpose was there in discussing the ghost story--besides to build atmosphere--with even a livid bloodstain appearing as evidence of the haunting? Does Jason just like to screw around with people? Is that a side effect of having fingers numb to pain?

Still, the Grand Guignol conclusion with Priscilla, Queen of the Undead rending unspeakable horrors upon the body of evil Dr. Highley as the heroic couple can only look on aghast is a juicy morsel to leave things on. It may not be healthy for me, but I know what I like.

27. Dead Hands Reaching

Original Broadcast: May 22, 1942

Cast: Ben Morris (Allan Blaine), Eleanor Naylor Caughron (Judith West), Muir Hite (Yung Si Fu), Georgianna Cook (Mrs. Evans), and Darryl McAllister (Aaron Blaine, the Voice from Beyond).

Allan Blaine is busily clacking away at his typewriter when he hears someone calling out his name. It’s a little troubling since he’s the only person in the room. The voice begins to ask Allan questions. “How much money are you making?” it inquires. Allan’s answer of a cool twenty-five bucks a week leads the voice to tell him that he deserves more. And the voice knows just how to do this. “There is much I can do for you,” it says. Allan’s loud protestations against his invisible benefactor get the attention of the office manager Mrs. Evans. The voice goads Allan to ask her for the assistant manager position that has recently opened up. Unsure but willing, Allan does so and soon him and Mrs. Evans are talking business.

Things are less great in regards to Allan’s steady girlfriend Judith. She calls the office but tells Allan that she won’t be coming to see him. Allan suspects that she’s avoiding him. The voice warns him not to trust her. When he tries calling on her later, Judith tells Allan she’s breaking off their date for a prior engagement. The voice tells Allan to hold back on his anger, saying that if he tries to confront Judith he’ll only end up killing her. To add a final salt rub on the bruise, Judith writes a “Dear John” letter to Allan calling him foolish and telling him that she only dated him because she felt sorry for him, but now she’s off to marry her South American beau!


Reading the letter, Allan gets steamed and whips out the gun. His unseen Jiminy Cricket is there to placate him but Allan isn’t listening. “I wonder if she’ll feel sorry for me with a bullet in her cheating heart!” he fumes, and with that he heads for her apartment and shoots the wench down. Later, the voice is back to chastise Allan for his actions now that he has the police hot on his trail. Miserable and drunk, Allan seeks out Yung Si Fu and his opium den to forget about his troubles for a while. The voice tries to tell Allan that drugs are bad (mm’kay) but it isn’t long before the murderer is aboard the S. S. Dreamland.

Awakening later, Allan finds himself in a cave wearing clean, neat clothes and the diary of his grandfather Aaron Blaine at his side. Reading the pages by the light of a fire, Allan discovers that his grandpappy had stowed Civil War-era gold under the horse stall of his barn. Seeing a quick way out of his current misfortunes, Allan beats a quick path to the farm and finds an "old Negro" staying at the place. Together they dig up the metal box housing the treasure, in all worth eighty thousand dollars.

A series of shots from outside alerts the old-timer that those dastardly Pearson boys have come to lay siege on the barn. Allan and his friend barely make it back to the cave with their skins intact. Days later the voice suddenly comes back to Allan telling him the coast is clear. Journeying outside, Allan sees a boneless hand jutting out from a grave mound. It is the resting place of Aaron Blaine hisownself, buried alive after having passed out in a cataleptic shock. The voice reveals that it is in actuality Aaron’s spirit who has been helping him this whole time. A rattlesnake springs forth from the grave and bites the inquisitive Allan. The squatter takes to the hills as Allan dies whimpering. “Now you’ll never get back!” Aaron’s spirit laments.

I seem to remember “Dead Hands Reaching” being closer in robustness and macabre flavor to “Funeral Arrangements Completed,” but relistening to the episode has revealed it to be more sedate and patient, taking a leisurely approach to the narrative that seems at odds with the genre tropes and iconography like skeletal hands reaching from graves and buried treasure that it utilizes.

This is not to say that the story is entirely unengaging, but it does go a little way in cooling the fire of what could have been another raucously pulpy tale. Bishop adopts the anything-goes approach again and it works effectively here, though the finale feels a bit limp even as it delivers the cosmic justice to our wrong-headed protagonist as so many other genre stories are apt to do.

Though he is only credited as playing the Chinese opium dealer (it is the use of this that transports Alan's spirit to the farm, by the way), Muir Hite likely supplied the voice for the squatter as well. Bishop supplies him with dialogue that is at turns riotous and painful, with such stereotypical ejaculations as "Boss man" and my personal favorite "You dun hear a spook talkin'!" Yes. Yes he did.

This was the only episode from the series that received a full photo spread in an issue of Radio-Movie News. It's evident from some of these shots and their corresponding captions that Bishop's script was still in the working stage, as the whole subplot of Allan's friend "Philip" fighting his way into Yung Si Fu's den never made it to the recording. One wishes some of the other stories had received this illustrative treatment!

Two weeks from today: Don't miss the seventh and final installment in our look back at Dark Fantasy!

Voices in the Dark: The Horrors of Dark Fantasy (1941-1942) Part Five

by Jose Cruz

18. Pennsylvania Turnpike

Original Broadcast: March 20, 1942

Cast: Ben Morris (Ken Miner), Fred Wayne (Hank), and Muir Hite (Filling Station Attendant). 

An old hitchhiker saunters into a filling station, the friendly attendant inquiring as to his destination. Their casual talk eventually brings to light some strange facts and habits of the hiker: he doesn’t know what a sandwich is and he tries to use an authentic 18th century gold coin to pay for it. The old man is undetermined as to where he is going but he has a definite plan in mind. “I always pay off my debts,” he tells the attendant, adding an extra odd note when he explains that he only takes rides from men with red hair.

The hiker owes a debt to a red-headed man and thus seeks them out as his travelling companions in hopes of settling his score. Just then a motorist enters the station asking the way to Pine Knob, Pennsylvania. The old man offers his help but first asks that the motorist take off his hat. The attendant goads the man to humor the hiker, and not only does the old feller see that the man has red hair but he makes note of the initials in the hat: “K. M.” for Ken Miner.

Miner irritably asks the hiker again for directions to Pine Knob. The hiker offers to point Miner in the right direction if he’ll drive him there and the two promptly depart. Picking up a bag of tobacco that the old man had used, the attendant marvels at the insignia on it that reads “King’s Choice, 1756.”

Miner tries to chat pleasantly with the taciturn hiker, who points to a road for Miner to take off the turnpike. Miner is perplexed as he hadn’t seen the road there before. Driving along, he’s astounded that there aren’t tracks from any other passing automobile on the road, just the deep ruts made from wagons and stagecoaches. “Six coal-black horses,” the hiker chirps. “The pride of Pennsylvany!” 

Ken grows uneasy as the buildings and highway shrink in the distance the further they drive out. “Nothing but open prairie land,” he mutters. “Trees. Hills. Tall grass.” The hiker starts to get a little cryptic when he asks Miner to imagine something incredible happening to him, to think of his immortal spirit swearing vengeance throughout the ages for this incredible incident. “What could you do but roam place from place?” he asks. He goes on to say that time is ever-fluctuating, but Miner won’t hear it. “What’s going to happen certainly isn’t taking place now,” the driver retorts.

Seems he spoke too soon. Just then they pull to a stop in front of a miraculous scene. Ken witnesses two men, both of them dead-ringers for the hiker and himself, conversing in front of a covered wagon. They’re discussing the fate of a stash of gold they’ve just acquired. The Miner of the past tells his companion Hank that he plans on taking the gold for himself. Hank refuses so Miner shoots him down in cold blood for his troubles. The hiker explains to Ken that the two panhandlers are past versions of themselves. “Nine score years I’ve waited,” Hank’s spirit wails. Taking control of the wheel, Hank sends the car over the edge of a cliff onto the rocks below.

Bishop scores more points for delivering an efficient, well-told tale that uses the supernatural to push the narrative smoothly forward. A small but considerable sense of mystery is generated by the real-time opening, stirring up questions in the listener’s mind as to what the ultimate endgame of the enigmatic hitchhiker will turn out to be and what such a strange turning point as red hair has to do with the whole thing. 

The tale possesses a Twilight Zone atmosphere, especially with its preoccupations with the shattering of time’s barriers, travelers, and roadside stops, recalling most prominently “A Hundred Yards Over the Rim” and “The Hitchhiker.” The latter was actually broadcast on radio for Suspense four months prior to Bishop’s play, relaying Lucille Fletcher’s famous story of a man on a cross country trip trying to elude the damnable presence of a persistent spirit asking the eternal question “Going… my way?” 

Fred Wayne manages to turn his character’s surliness into a maintained sense of menace, with Morris and Hite putting in their always-reliable characterizations to balance the oddity of the proceedings. In comparison to the high antics and glorious pulpishness of the last several episodes, “Pennsylvania Turnpike” serves as a nice breather but one that nevertheless holds its own with its straightforward narrative of paranormal vengeance on the highway.

19. Convoy for Atlantis 

Original Broadcast: March 27, 1942

Cast: Ben Morris (Harvey Adams), Murillo Schofield (Winston Everly), and Garland Moss (Siegfried, the Ruler of Atlantis).

Harvey Adams and his friend Winston Everly have been stranded on an open boat for nine days without food or water, each passing hour feeling like an eternity. Harvey is a reporter who was hoping to get the scoop on the recent string of mysterious boat disappearances that had occurred in the open sea. Three separate ships had all seemingly vanished into thin air with no sign of the passengers or indication of a distress signal. Harvey solicits the aid of Winston and his yacht to trace the final course of the vessels and perhaps discover some answers.

What Harvey only knows in hindsight is that by doing this they had “offered [them]selves as bait for some unseen devil.” Harvey and Winston bicker fiercely during the voyage, the reporter convinced that the ships disappeared within the exact same vicinity of each other and that they themselves are nearing this perimeter now. Winston finds it impossible that all three ships should be wiped out in the same spot. To add further bewilderment to the affair, news reaches them that every single passenger from the vanishing vessels have returned safely to the mainland aboard lifeboats, though none of them can recall what had happened to them.

Just then a weird figure enters the room. The man identifies himself as Siegfried, the one responsible for all of the disappearances. He tells the two men that he needed the boats for his own purposes, all of which he will gladly show them. “It will entail a trip to the bottom of the sea,” he adds and mentions that all of the passengers from the other vessels were given the same tour. And like them, Harvey and Winston will remember none of the awesome sights that they will witness.

To prepare them for the journey, Siegfried commands them to imbibe a potion. Winston tries to back out of the deed, but the centuries-old denizen of the sea hypnotically controls the rebel to carry through with the plan. Harvey and Winston wake up later in the undersea chamber. Siegfried says that they are now 50,000 leagues below land and that the formula they drunk induced their spirits to leave their physical bodies behind, thus explaining the men’s ability to still be able to breathe underwater. That’s when Siegfried drops the big news on them: this is no second-rate oceanic kingdom, but the lost continent of Atlantis itself!

Having been sent to a watery grave 11,000 years ago by volcanic disturbances, Atlantis was still able to survive through the tenacity and perseverance of its people. Siegfried has been commandeering the ships in order to salvage their metal. As they’re pulled along by a sliding panel, Harvey and Winston sees that the Atlantians are using the steel to fortify their continent against the crushing waves that imprison them. At the end of the tour, the men are shown a chamber packed with gold, silver, and other innumerable treasures. Siegfried has been giving all of the human visitors a small but generous portion of the treasure, enough to cover any losses they might have suffered from the boat-snatching and then some.

Winston, his mind overflowing with riches, sneaks back to the treasure room to snatch his own reward. Harvey comes in looking for him and confronts him over his greediness. Just then Siegfried enters and sees the treacherous scene unfolding. “You could not conquer the worldly desire to steal our treasures,” he criticizes. Enraged by this betrayal, Siegfried tells both men that he shall be sending them back in time to face their due torture.

This brings us back to the opening episode with Harvey and Winston delirious from starvation and exposure. A cache of the treasure from Atlantis lays at their feet, utterly useless now. Driven past his breaking point, Winston screams that all of the treasure belongs to him before he takes it and himself overboard and into the ocean.

Although the prospect of another “kingdom under the sea” story set this listener a little ill at ease, Bishop shows that he has grown since the time of his scattershot sophomore episode, “The Thing from the Sea.” The writer demonstrates this mainly by keeping any convoluted background concerning Atlantis under the rug, concerning himself more with the motivations and interactions of his characters. A wise move no doubt.

However, the script does still suffer from some of the logical inconsistencies that have plagued the show in the past. The most egregious of the lot is Siegfried’s “plan” that consists of giving his unintended victims a tour of home base. Firstly, why should he feel obligated to do this? No indication is given that Atlantis is going to be making a comeback or anything, so why couldn’t the continent just go on being perceived as a myth? Wouldn’t that make life easier for the Atlantians? This brings us to the second point: if Siegfried is doing this just to be a stand-up guy and show that there are no hard feelings by the work he does, then why in Neptune’s name would he erase the memories of all who found this out? Is he afraid that the world at large will rediscover Atlantis? If so, then why give people a Fast Pass to his homeland and show them what they’re all up to? And then on top of that he just throws money at them and tells them to buy themselves a new boat. Okay then.

It doesn’t help that “Convoy for Atlantis” suffers from some of the worst audio that has been heard thus far. Like “Curse of the Neanderthal,” there are some aural beats and clipping that make it difficult to discern the action, but this episode suffers from a persistent skipping that occurs during the opening and closing wraparound, making just about everything that happens complete guesswork. Does Winston (a great slimy portrayal by Schofield, by the way) jump into the ocean with the treasure? Is there a ship seen heading towards the men’s boat? Do both of them get eaten by a kraken? It’s anybody’s say.



20. The Thing from the Darkness

Original Broadcast: April 3, 1942

Cast: Ben Morris (Donald Thurman), Eleanor Naylor Caughron (Princess Ilana), Fred Wayne (King Tinasi), and Muir Hite (Eivan).

Donald Thurman is awoken from a fitful sleep by his ringing telephone. The caller inquires if the pilot will be able to make a trip to Mantilla. Don is uneasy about traveling through the desert and insists that he be paid six hundred for the flight. During the voyage, a terrible sandstorm blots out all sight from the aircraft, Don commenting that the whirlwind is “thick as pea soup.” Hoping for a soft landing, Don noses the plane toward the ground.

The pounding of war drums is what arouses Don next from his slumber. A hulking native tells Don that he will be brought to King Tinasi, but he may be sacrificed to the leopard pit if it is seen fit. The native, Eivan, explains that when the moon is full the leopards become maddened and rabid until they are placated with human flesh. Don has been temporarily blinded by the sandstorm. “You have come where white man is forbidden,” Eivan tells the felled pilot.

Don also finds out that the tribe’s Princes Ilana is due to be married and that it was she who brought Don back to health. Eivan and the King believe that the man’s blindness was induced by gazing at the beauty of the princess. Guiding Don to the main camp, Eivan becomes highly excited when he sees leopard tracks in the dirt, convinced that evil spirits are loose.

At Tinasi’s court, the King accuses Don of rendezvousing with Ilana, despite the pilot’s denials. Don later finds himself left in the middle of the jungle as opposed to the prison hut that Eivan was supposed to lock him into. Seeing a “great star” coming over a ridge he realizes that it is the full moon and his sight has been restored. Don is met by Ilana, who tells him that Eivan did disobey orders and left him to die. Ilana is due to marry the brute but she can’t stand him. The nuptials are put on hold when they hear a leopard groaning in the bush and find Eivan wounded from a feline attack.

King Tinasi forbids the two from helping the warrior, though he is quick to blame Don for the attack due to the blood on his hands, stains he only got from trying to carry Eivan off to safety. Tinasi passes judgment that both he and his own daughter shall face death in the leopard pit. The couple are brought to the hole and forced down the stone steps to face furry death.

Ilana is hopeless, telling Don that once the full moon shines over the pit the “tenemahasi” will be driven to slaughter them. In the adjoining, gated room inside the pit they can see Tinasi cooing to the animals. Legend has it that if the prisoners are in fact not guilty the cats will not harm them. With just a few iron bars separating them from fangs and claws, Don and Ilana are prepared to meet their doom when suddenly a bank of fog passes over the sky, covering the moon’s rays. Disappointed by the change in weather, the leopards decide to make a meal out of the screaming King instead.

“The Thing from the Darkness” comes close to reaching the overzealousness of “The Thing from the Sea” as it details the intricacies of the foreign tribe’s superstitious beliefs involving possibly shape-changing wereleopards, but it’s mainly kept at a lively pace thanks to its E. C. Comics flavor that’s made when the romanticized jungle adventure meets a particularly nasty conclusion. The leopard feast foregoes any squelchy sound effects for the nerve-rattling screams of poor Fred Wayne.

The episode is also a touch confusing at times. At one point we hear a man that we eventually come to find out is King Tinasi speaking to his pet leopards: “Tonight is the night we hunt!” We imagine this is somehow tied to the sighting Eivan has of the leopard tracks that transform into human footprints, but the connection is unfortunately tenuous and not clearly defined.

Bishop also sticks in a rather unnecessary plot point delivered close to the conclusion where Ilana tells Don that she is actually white but is not Tinasi’s real daughter. Neat, I guess? Do you have any information about how to keep from getting eaten by wild jungle cats, Princess?


21. The Edge of the Shadow

Original Broadcast: April 10, 1942

Cast: Ben Morris (Steven Fuller), Eleanor Naylor Caughron (Martha Fuller), Muir Hite (Hank Marsh), and Georgianna Cook (Stewardess).

Steven Fuller is perturbed by the discovery he has made in the stables of his farm: one of his prize cows has been wounded by barbed wire. This is especially strange since Steven has no barbed wire fences anywhere on his property. He asks his farmhand Hank Marsh if he let the animal out, but Marsh says that he kept all the cows within the pasture. Stranger still is the bottle of disinfectant and the clean rags Steven finds in the stables, items he knows were stored elsewhere. Surmising that someone must have intentionally injured the cow and attempted to treat it before being interrupted, Steven has his suspicions confirmed when he finds the bloody link of barbed wire hidden in a stack of hay… and Hank holding a gun on him.

The laborer admits to the crime, his motive to get Steven out of the way so that he can be with his wife Martha who detests her husband and wishes for a divorce. Steven is confused as he knows nothing of this, but Hank is convinced Fuller has been savvy to the affair the whole time. Hank’s devious plan entails him shooting Steven through the heart and, once startled by the sound of the shot, the loose cow will rear up and trample the corpse past recognition, making the true cause of death undeterminable!

Thinking fast, Steven splashes the disinfectant into Hank’s eyes and wrestles the gun away from him. Steven’s a pretty forgiving sort, chastising Hank like a child as he guides him to the well to wash the burning fluid off of his face. As the sputtering Hank washes himself, Steven points out the airplane to New York that regularly flies over the farm at evening. But Steven realizes too late that the low aircraft is ablaze and on a crash course with the farm!

We find out Steve has been dreaming this whole episode. He is quite shaken by the night terror and convinces himself that it must have been real. When he runs to Hank’s bedroom and sees that he’s gone, he only becomes more ill at ease. He explains the crazy dream to Martha and she convinces him to go out to the barn to ascertain if there was any truth to it.

By the light of a lantern, Steven finds the very same cow with an identical injury, the barbed wire and the gun hidden in the hay just as they had been in the dream. Thinking Martha had somehow missed the plane crash, Steven rushes out but sees that there are no signs of fire or rubble anywhere. The airport later confirms that the New York plane had a safe flight, but even this and Martha’s insistence that all the other occurrences were mere coincidences does not sit well with Steven.

When Hank enters reporting on the cow’s injury, Steven’s fears are fully kindled. He becomes a hysterical mess, accusing both Hank and Martha of conspiring against him. They claim innocence and try to speak to Steven’s reason, but he isn’t having any of it. “You can burn together!” he roars before using the same gun to shoot both of them where they stand.

Later, Steven is on board the plane bound for New York. “They won’t find me there,” he tells himself. His nerves are calmed once the plane takes off, though he is a little jumpy when the flight attendant greets him. He tells her of his strange dream, including the bit about the plane exploding in the air! He glances out the window and sees the familiar farm below. “Look how close it seems…” he muses, just before seeing the wing of the plane on fire and feeling the vessel hurtling toward the earth.

The strength of its ominous opening scene is just about enough to carry “The Edge of the Shadow” over the finish line. It’s one that puzzles the listener, leaving them wondering as to just where the story is going to go next. Is this going to be a crime thriller? A ghost story about the executed hubby coming back from the grave? When the first scene ends with the airplane crash, we don’t even know if the only two characters in the play have just been wiped out altogether!

Once it is revealed that we’re dealing with a tale in the “nightmares come true” strain of horror, things seem to settle into a more identifiable pattern, but even then Scott Bishop manages to keep the proceedings fresh and engaging. Not even the actors tip their hands here. Maybe I’m getting rusty, but I honestly couldn’t foresee hardly any of the events in the show until they were actually happening, barring when it is revealed that our hapless “hero” Steven has boarded a quick plane to immolation. (Strange, by the way, how the flight attendant and the rest of the passengers are all incredibly silent during the accident. Another dream perhaps?)

A nebulous little curiosity, “The Edge of the Shadow” delivers some of the series’ best surprises.

Here's where you can listen to most of the Dark Fantasy programs.

Don't miss the sixth chapter of Jose Cruz' look at Dark Fantasy in two weeks!

Voices in the Dark: The Horrors of Dark Fantasy (1941-1942), Part Four

by Jose Cruz

14. A Delicate Case of Murder

Original Broadcast: February 20, 1942

Cast: Georgianna Cook (Laura Winsted), Ben Morris (Harvey Winsted), Eleanor Naylor Caughron (Frederica Keaton), Muir Hite (Rogers), and Fred Wayne (Doctor). 

After a fresh dose of piercing organ music is served up to our ears, we’re guided into the home of the Winsted’s one very late night/early morning. The present group is there to witness a séance held by medium wife Laura. Husband Harvey is a surly sourpuss who tut-tuts the proceedings, calling the spiritual writing his spouse performs as “hair-brained messages” and generally warning the other two members of the party against indulging Laura’s foolishness. Both of them, Miss Frederica Keaton and her acquaintance Rogers, take Mrs. Winsted’s purported powers very seriously, recalling that it was she who was able to communicate with the spirits via Ouija board even when mighty mystic Quentin Ramsay could not.

Laura has apparently been studying the spiritual arts and has now gained the ability of materialization, so the lady promises her guests that tonight “There’ll be more than mere rappings.” The four gather at table and join hands after Roger has doused the lights. “No one is to break the contact,” Laura says. “No one!” The medium then asks the spirits to make themselves known, requesting that they knock upon the boards twice for “No” and thrice for “Yes.”

A phantom starts speaking to Laura, telling the psychic that she has a message to give to Miss Keaton. When the ghost tells Frederica that she is hovering over her (!), Miss Keaton looks up and recognizes the old face of her late mother. The spirit tells Frederica that she has nothing to worry about before splitting it back to Bogey Land, effectively bringing the séance to an end. Not wanting to publicize these awesome abilities of hers, Laura asks that Frederica keep what she’s seen to herself.

Harvey then volunteers to take the young lady home, but the only thing he is interested in driving is his lips towards hers! For Harvey and Frederica are secret lovers, you see. The relationship between Harvey and his wife has dissolved over the years into bitterness and resentment, and his repeated requests for a divorce are met with stubbornness by Laura at every turn. “I used to love her immensely,” he tells Frederica, but now the old ball and chain has grown “indifferent, overbearing, and sharp-tongued.” 

Harvey also shows the young woman that Laura is a fraud to boot, displaying the papier-mâché figure that was used to masquerade as Frederica’s dead mother. Laura storms in at that moment, claiming that the vision was indeed fake but that the unearthly voice was genuine. Laura says “There are many things between earth and heaven that none of us know,” a tin-eared rendition of Shakespeare’s sentiment if there ever was one. She swears to her husband that she will convince him of this one day.

Harvey and Laura argue the next day about their marriage. Even knowing that her husband is a philanderer, Laura will still not release her hold on him, telling him that it’s “convenient being married to your income.” Later in town, Laura drives up to the curb and invites Frederica for a ride. The automobile is soon involved in a terrible crash, the precise details of which are conveniently relayed to us by a ballyhooing newsie who apparently lives in a town where auto accidents are a hot broadcast item.

Laura herself has been killed, while Frederica lies in critical condition at the hospital. The doctors report to the grieving Harvey—who asks nothing of his smashed wife—that Frederica’s nerve centers have been damaged and that she cannot use her voice. Harvey agrees to pay whatever sum is necessary to ensure his lover’s recovery and, once the operation is performed, he gets the good news that Frederica is back to her old self. The couple wed immediately, but upon carrying his new bride across the threshold, Harvey is a little alarmed by the spiteful sting Frederica’s voice has adopted. And as the wicked woman mocks her new husband’s stupidity, Harvey realizes with horror that the deceased Laura has now gained possession of Frederica!

“A Delicate Case of Murder” is a bit stupider than it needs to be, not to mention its trading on some very old narrative tropes in its attempt to startle and shock the audience. Among the other bizarre contrivances, the biggest one seems to be that not a single murder is to be found in this episode! It’s just barely hinted that Laura invites Frederica for a ride with the intention of crashing the car, but not is that only “A Vague Case of Murder,” it makes no sense whatsoever. How could Laura have known that she would die in the crash and, more importantly, that Frederica would survive for her to later possess? Aren’t there more direct ways to ensure the type of outcome Laura was hoping for?

There’s not much else to comment on for this entry. We may have reached the bottom of Dark Fantasy’s cobwebbed barrel. 

15. Spawn of the Subhuman

Original Broadcast: February 27, 1942

Cast: Ben Morris (Michael Brock), Eleanor Naylor Caughron (Adelaide Rhodes), Garland Moss (Dr. Luther), and Muir Hite (The Gorilla). 

Michael Brock and renowned soprano Adelaide Rhodes are aboard a plane to Mexico during a stretch of her extensive national tour. Though Adelaide has been gaining acclaim and accolades during her musical stint, she can’t help but feel an overwhelming pall of “impending danger” hanging over her. 

The source of her trepidation goes back to when she was involved in an auto accident that resulted in the disappearance of her famous tenor colleague, Stephan Wilder. Driving late one night with Wilder, Adelaide felt as if “100,000 evil spirits” were racing after her. Trying to make a curve, she crashes the auto, proving that the only thing deadlier than the demons of Hell is a woman behind the wheel of a car. Upon recovering, Adelaide discovers that her friend has seemingly vanished into thin air. 

Adelaide notices that outside the plane the sky is darkening as a storm approaches, just as it had those four long years ago. Awakening from a nap, Adelaide is told by Michael that they stopped the plane to fuel up in Monterrey before heading toward their destination. But when Adelaide sees they’re flying over water, she realizes that they’ve strayed off course. Michael goes to the pilot’s cabin to inquire. The door is locked but Michael is able to peer through the porthole, and what he sees shocks him to his core. “That’s not our pilot at the controls,” he gasps. “That’s a monkey!”

Wait. It gets better.

Adelaide joins Michael and they both marvel at the large gorilla sitting in the pilot’s chair. They grimace at the weird, “human-like” expression the simian possesses. It’s then that Michael realizes that he never saw their original pilot re-enter the aircraft after fueling up and surmises that the gorilla shanghaied their vessel. The plane is lowered onto a remote island, Michael commenting in awe on the “absolutely perfect landing” that the ape managed to conduct. When the gorilla comes out of the cabin, he speaks to the couple in perfect English and informs them that he will be guiding them to his master, Dr. Luther.

Wait.

Meeting the physician, Michael and Adelaide are told forebodingly by the loopy doc “You may be interested in… what I have planned.” And who wouldn’t be? For Luther has set up a secret laboratory retreat where he has been able to practice his revolutionary theories far away from the small-minded medical community of the civilized world. Luther explains that he captured the gorilla and trained it for five years to adopt the mannerisms of its Homo Sapien brothers. Then, in order to demonstrate the full extent of his work, Luther commands the ape to sing, showing off the animal’s robust, operatic tones for the benefit of his guests. 

And there it is.

Luther reveals in short order that he grafted the vocal chords of none other than the missing Stephan Wilder into the body of the gorilla when the singer made an appointment to meet with Luther. Luther apparently saw the car accident as his open window and whisked the tenor away for his dark experimentations. He lets the gorilla, whom he has appropriately “named” Stephan, to practice his scales. “Doesn’t he have an excellent voice?” Luther gushes of his project. 

It seems that Luther has big ideas in his head and big dollar signs in his eyes. He plans on making bank for exhibiting his singing primate to the world. And when he displays the female ape he has in captivity, his intentions to make his act a double bill become all too clear. Stephan asks that Adelaide comply with the mad doctor’s demands, but the songbird has her own surprises stuffed up her sleeve. She tells Luther that the reason Stephan Wilder scheduled that appointment with him in the first place was because he was losing his voice.

Luther is flabbergasted and thinks the lady is lying so he commands Stephan to sing again. He raves at the sumptuous notes. “A beautiful quality!” he rants. “Beautiful tones!” But his victory is short-lived when Stephan’s voice starts to catch and screech like a bad motor. Luther has a meltdown, genuinely shocked that all of his research and money has been wasted in a scheme to create a gorilla that could sing opera. The doc takes out his revolver to gun the miserable failure down but finds out the hard way that bullets only make Stephan very, very angry. Michael and Adelaide can only look on in horror as the snarling beast tears his master apart.

Now that’s entertainment. 

Nothing in the preceding fourteen episodes of Dark Fantasy could possibly have prepared the listener for the lunacy that is delivered in “Spawn of the Subhuman,” which also manages to have an even weirder, completely unrelated title than “A Delicate Case of Murder”! But that’s just part of the episode’s uproarious quality.

The most surprising thing here is that there is hardly a flicker of a tongue-in-cheek attitude during the duration of the drama. “Drama” is exactly what it’s played as; Caughron and Morris especially are particularly grim-toned as they’re exposed to one rib-tickling revelation after another. If anybody was smiling while reading out the script, you’d be hard-pressed to put a finger on it!

The exception to this is Garland Moss, who was apparently asked to channel Tod Slaughter in his performance of Dr. Luther. Moss is a joy to listen to, punctuating his dialogue with theatrical flair. You can practically see him tearing his hair out by the fistfuls the second Stephan’s voice starts to falter. It’s the one role that ever seems to be played for laughs and Moss wrings enough frills out of it for the rest of the cast.

It certainly helps that “Spawn of the Subhuman” boasts the best audio we’ve heard in Dark Fantasy’s run so far. The sound effects and dialogue come through with crystal-clear clarity, giving the already snappy story an aural crispness that ensures we hear every last crazy detail that Scott Bishop includes in his nutty script. This episode delivers the pulpy goods and brings the whole opera to an end right as Luther meets his monkey maker. “Spawn of the Subhuman” is canny enough to know that anything else that occurred afterward could never match up with what came before it. 

16. The Man with the Scarlet Satchel

Original Broadcast: March 6, 1942

Cast: Ben Morris (Sam Willard), Fred Wayne (Peter Craig), Georgianna Cook (Rose Esther), and Muir Hite (Professor White). 

“Scarlet is my favorite color because it reminds me so very much of blood.” 

These are the words that open Dark Fantasy’s sixteenth episode. They’re spoken by elderly scientist Peter Craig in regards to the eponymous satchel that he owns. We first hear of Craig through his lawyer Sam Willard and live-in nurse Rose Esther. Their exchange is not exactly kind and caring: Rose is worried that Craig may be starting to suspect their scheme to influence him to sign over a cool hundred grand to the nurse in his will, to later be split between Rose and Sam. The dastardly duo have been accomplishing their plan by feeding Craig dope mixed into his drinks, keeping him in a sleepy, disoriented state so as to best prey on his mind.  

Sam advises that Rose disappear for a while in order to extricate herself of any involvement in the plot. The greedy nurse demands that Sam deliver her share of the money upon the completion of their plan. Craig is tinkering around in his lab later when he gets his “medicine” and Sam comes to him under the pretension of getting his property deed in order. Craig is so discombobulated that he willingly signs the dotted line on the form, little realizing just what he is doing. Craig naps in his lab but, upon awakening, he is overwrought with paranoia and fear (perhaps from the drugs) and collapses to the floor in a panic, thinking he has been left for dead.

After the funeral, Sam reads the will to Craig’s other servants. They do not question Craig’s leaving the bulk of his estate to Rose… perhaps because they themselves have been left some compensation as orchestrated by Sam. Craig has left a sealed envelope in Sam’s care that includes some funerary provisions that the lawyer is to carry out upon his client’s death. The letter specifies that Craig is to be buried with a small box from his laboratory that contains a handful of modeling clay. 

Afterward, Sam speaks to Professor White, one of Craig’s old colleagues. The instructor goes on about Craig’s genius in the field of electrical engineering. Indeed, the late man’s quarters are filled with panels and tubes galore, along with copper wire hooked up to bits of the same clay from the parcel. Certain things about the place cause the crooked lawyer to become a bit wary. The wax seal that currently held the only door into the lab is broken and both the clay and a hand towel are damp as if recently used. The clincher is that Sam notices the small parcel in the lab: “The very same box I put into the casket!”

Meanwhile, Rose is holed up in a hotel when she gets a call from the front desk that the “man with the scarlet satchel” is waiting to talk to her. Rose’s dismissal of the call does little good when she sees the undead Craig standing right before her in the room. He tells her that he’ll be leaving the satchel behind for her before bidding her good night and disappearing. Rose quickly discovers that the contents of the bag are not exactly dormant. “Something is opening that satchel from the inside” she gasps. The naughty nurse lets out a wail of terror as the unnameable thing shambles forth to claim its victim. 

Sam reads through a newspaper account of the incident with Professor White. Rose was found with both of her hands clasped tightly to her face, “eyes… staring blankly,” the result of a massive and sudden fright. She could only mutter “Scarlet satchel” over and over before finally passing away. The thing that unnerves Sam the most is that no sign of the satchel could be found in Rose’s room. He resolves to break into Craig’s crypt with the professor to settle the matter once and for all.

Their find doesn’t exactly placate their nerves: the vault door is open and Craig’s body is gone. That’s because it’s currently standing in the darkness of the crypt, greeting the two interlopers. Craig explains in no uncertain terms that “those who are murdered never rest easily within their graves until they have wrought their full and perfect vengeance,” making it clear the fate he has in mind for Sam. He goes on to explain that he used the modeling clay, originally purchased for him as a joke, to mold a pygmy figure which he has brought to life with electricity to use as his agent of punishment. Opening the satchel, Craig looks on approvingly as Sam screams to the heavens and the little Frankenstein wreaks its master’s revenge. 

As opposed to “Spawn of the Subhuman,” this episode delivers some genuine thrills and chills based on a premise that may seem risible at first glance. The idea of a little clay-man (showing echoes of Robert Bloch’s famous “Mannikins of Horror”) killing full-grown humans might have been laughable had Bishop attempted to approach it directly and straight-facedly as he had done with his opera-singing gorilla, but the final horror of “The Man with the Scarlet Satchel” is kept in the shadows for the most part, the little clues found in Craig’s laboratory gradually leading up to the satisfying payoff.

The central image of the scarlet satchel being opened up from within—a sequence that is reminiscent of the moving stones in the floor from “The Headless Dead”—is a wonderfully dreadful moment that Bishop wrings for its maximum, tingling effect. In opposition to the descriptive language that is typically used to “sell” radio drama (think the lurid appearance of the monstrous mermaid in “The Thing from the Sea”), Bishop leaves off any real details about the clay-figure, giving the audience the chance to envision the animated monstrosity with their worst imaginings.

The cast and direction is really rather spritely for this vignette too, with even the usually weary-voiced Casey getting the opportunity to inject some energy into his performance via some choice lines from the script. Take his grim remark about exiting his resting place (“That lid was heavy…”) or his grand, melodramatic stinger in explaining Sam’s horrible fate: “I have created with it your damnation!” Morris too is surprising as Sam, showing an acidity and coolness that we haven’t heard since his philandering playboy villain from “The Man Who Came Back.”

Bishop, as in the previous episode, knows right where to end things. He knows that after the final screams of the guilty wring out as judgment is met, there’s just nothing else that needs to be said. 

17. Superstition Be Hanged

Original Broadcast: March 13, 1942

Cast: Ben Morris (Barker), Mae Ray (Ruby), Garland Moss (The Fortune-Teller), and Murillo Schofield (Detective Kurt Gilfoil). 

A ringmaster announces the final attraction of the circus showcase to an anxious audience: “Flyer” Samson, the renowned and daring trapeze artist, will be performing his act on the “Gigantic, Colossal, Giant Flying Swing Set,” without the aid of a net to boot. Ruby Brooks and her husband Jeff “Barker” Kilby stand in the sidelines as Samson readies himself for flight. Ruby says that Samson is pressing his luck by not using a safety net… especially since he isn’t wearing his lucky token of the single white feather dotted with blood. 

It seems that Samson’s luck has run out. In the middle of the act, Samson gets wound in the trapeze rope, breaking his neck. Ari Jala, the circus swami, is there to offer his ominous words of warning that those who do not carry the magical feather will meet their death.

Detective Kurt Gilfoil is on the investigation, and he grills Ruby and Barker of their involvement with Samson. Ruby shows her true colors when she drops her classy inflection for a street-smart attitude. Gilfoil thinks it’s strange that Samson should forfeit using a net on the first night of his newly proposed stunt, while Ruby herself, a fellow trapeze artist, would use a net during her own act. 

Gilfoil asks Ruby about the mysterious feather. What he doesn’t know is that Ruby and Barker carry identical tokens with them at all times. Gilfoil thinks the combination of the absent net and the superstition of the feather point to foul play. The detective tells the couple that he’ll be hanging around should anything else happen. Ruby is anxious for her part, telling Barker that she couldn’t find the feather anywhere on Samson’s body or in his dressing room. Samson had always scoffed at the idea as foolishness.

On cue, Ari Jala suddenly appears in the room. The old fortuneteller tells the couple that “the white feather of a baby swan spotted with the blood of a dove” is their only protection from harm. The swami then reveals that it was he who removed Samson’s feather, a retaliation against the trapeze artist’s insults against the mystic powers. Barker is overcome with anger at the old man’s treachery. Ruby tries to stop him, but Barker strangles Ari Jala to death. The police on the grounds are alerted and the couple flees into the night. 

Ruby and Barker take a plane to San Francisco with only three hundred dollars left to their names. The tension is starting to get them, as Ruby grows hopeless while Barker gets more irritated and desperate by the minute. When Gilfoil is spotted waiting for the couple at the airport, Barker holds the pilot at gunpoint and forces him to take to the skies again. Their attempt to hole up in a hotel for six months is similarly foiled and, with the coppers closing in on them, they make their exit by the fire escape. 

Running across the rooftops, Ruby realizes that she left her feather back in the room but Barker just orders her to keep going. Coming to a gap in the roofs, Barker makes it to the other side. Ruby isn’t so lucky. She stumbles during her leap, and she is given an impromptu hanging by a series of suspended wires over the alleyway. 

Later in some unnamed city, Barker enters his hovel and finds that it’s been searched. The law’s breathing down his neck, so he takes to hopping a train to elude his would-be captors. From the darkness of the boxcar, Barker hears the unearthly voice of Ari Jala calling out to him. Barker fires his gun, but bullets are no use on a ghost. The spirit asks Barker to give him the white feather. Barker complies and Ari Jala is appeased. “Now… I have all three of them” he purrs. In his nervousness, Barker goes to jump off the boxcar. But the train has picked up speed and Barker didn’t count on one obstruction getting in his way. “And how pretty you look,” Ari Jala observes, “hanging from that mail hook.” 

“Superstition Be Hanged” is a continuation of Scott Bishop’s run of snappier Grand Guignol stories for Dark Fantasy that he penned after some of the more syrupy supernatural antics of “Debt from the Past” and dusty campfire yarns like “The Sea Phantom.” This episode blends the uncomplicated, driven narrative of “The Man Who Came Back” with the blackly ironic climax of “The Headless Dead” to construct a solid twenty minutes of entertainment. 

Bishop shows a moderate flair for noir with this playlet, detailing the flight of his convicts-on-the-lam with flavorings of tough dialogue concerning “dirty coppers” and the like. The best bit occurs when Ruby tries to convince Barker that he’ll regret murdering Ari Jala, to which he fiercely responds “I’ve never regretted killing a snake in my life!” 

Newcomer to the show Mae Ray performs admirably in her role, showing a nice range of sassiness and fear within the short amount of time before her character’s untimely demise. Everyone else eases into their characterizations with the familiarity they’ve accumulated from their stints on the shows, with Garland Moss essaying his patented “voice from beyond” for the story’s final moments.

Be here in two weeks for Part Five of Jose Cruz' continuing study of Dark Fantasy!