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O Lord, we beseech thee dishabitation and creature of Thine, and remove far away from him all the snails and assaults of the devil.

Let thy angels Michael, Raphael and Gabriel dwell therein to preserve it in peace and from all unclean spirits, And let thy blessing be always upon.

Us, God, save your soul.

Amen.

Now where were we?

Oh?

I think my great grandfather was about to stab a corpse?

I love story time?

Uh are you okay?

Why do you ask?

Is it because I'm finally getting a bloody, first hand account of the depravity of.

My forebears and something like that?

No, this is It's not fun exactly, but I'm as fascinating.

Okay, good, I keep reading?

Where was I?

Okay?

Here?

I watched as he bent low until he was right above Nathaniel's prone form.

I watched as he whispered a quiet prayer over the boy as he slowly brought the knife up, clasped the handle between both hands, looked up at the blank, white autumn sky in search of God's grace, took a deep breath and plunged the knife deep into the sadder white boy's chest.

Jeez, yeah, that is so messed up.

Huh, keep going, Okay, I grew queasy, and I do not believe that I was alone.

Noah had gone quite pale.

And even Father Abbas seemed for a moment to doubt his decision.

Our Father, go art in heaven hall.

It would be thy name, my kingdom.

Come, I will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

And give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses.

He prayed feverishly, hissuffusing words to fortify his resolve, and then with a final word amen, he began to feverishly saw it the flesh until the bright red blood poured from it.

He paused to look to.

Noah ghost had a fire in the heart.

Yes, Father, voice.

With me, before redoubling his efforts.

Finally, he finished his terrible swing, looked up once more into the blank white sky, and plunged his hand into the boy's chest, wincing and grimacing, she proceeded to pull Nathaniel Satterwhite's heart from his body.

Demerius, give me a shawl, but.

I was frozen in place by terror.

Demerius, yes, sir, thank your daughter.

I handed it to him, the cold wind cutting through my clothes, and watched as he carefully wrapped the slick red heart.

It was careful, loving, almost a tender moment from a man not usually prone to tenderness.

Help me up, daughter, I apologize for the blood on my hands.

We will buy you a new shawl.

I left my modest strength to him, and somehow we managed to extract him from the grave.

Come and then together we walked into the church building and into the back conclave, where Noah had lit the fire, staring into it his face.

Won boys.

Father Abbys then fell the bloody package into the fire.

We watched silently as the flames licked at it, unsure at first, before greedily laughing at it, eventually consuming it entirely.

We set that way for some time, mesomorised by the cleansing fire and the horrible work which had preceded it.

We shall not speak a word of this to the congregation.

Noah with me, we must fail the grave immediately de matters.

It has been foul work to day, and I thank you for your assistance.

Go home and pray the Lord will see fit to forgive us.

We are doing his will.

It was strange to go about my duties that afternoon, washing, cooking, knowing what I had witnessed.

I felt like a spirit haunting my own house, And as evenings set in, I felt a growing sense of dread that I had not seen the last great horror boys to bed.

Now.

When the men returned home, the air was tense in silence.

They washed their filthy hands in the basin and sat stoically down to be served their supper.

They ate in the grim manner of men condemned to death.

Father Josiah staring into the fire as if he wished it to burn the day's work away.

Noah seeming to strain under a heavy burden.

I began to believe that we would pass the entire meal in silence, when finally Noah spoke.

Father, what is it?

I feel a certain trepidation concerning our actions.

Go on, then, how did you come to the conclusion that desecrating the saddle white boy's body was the correct course?

Of action.

I have been in contact with the childhood friend and Providence.

He too is a man of the cloth, and has written extensively about vampirism.

Vamparison to Marius.

I did not wish to continue this conversation at De Marius's presence.

She was witnessed to today's events.

I believe it wise for her to understand today's actions.

I very much wish to be enlightened as well.

We will not have this discussion in front up demerits.

I will answer.

Missus Abbess, Missus Harper, I apologize for disturbing you so late in the evening.

Is the Reverend here?

What is it, Missus Harbor.

Well, sir, it's it's mister Harber.

He's come down with the fever.

I believe that's taken the others.

So there, Missus Harper, please come in.

I don't know what to do.

He tore apart my kitchen, tried to burn down the house before my screams brought doctor Bright my aid.

Is the doctor still with him?

He gave mister Harper a sleeping draft, but said there was little else he could do tonight.

Useless.

Noah, grab your coat in my Bible and clean under your nails.

I'll go ahead with Missus Harber.

We more work to do tonight, come, Missus Harper.

Noah, he's no more capable than a witch.

Doctor.

Noah, I have to clean the grave dirt from my nails.

Yes, Love, your hands are clean.

Nothing in this town is clean.

I must fall a father.

Husband.

Please, what your father has left you may speak freely.

I will not trouble you with this.

Already troubled, Noah.

You have sought my counsel before.

Noah, I I'm sorry, decide sh my love.

This is a terrible time, and terrible time sometimes call for terrible actions.

Yes, it is all terrible.

I apologize for losing my temper.

It is nothing.

I must follow father.

I fear our country doctor is not proving up to the task.

Bar the door after me.

September twenty ninth, eighteen seventeen.

This last week has proven to offer nothing but bloody work for the family.

Each evening, after the day's work was done, but before the sunset, Father Josiah and Noah have slipped behind the church to dig up a fresh corpse, hoping to catch culprits before they are able to spread the infernal disease, only to find later that another neighbor has fallen ill with the blood sickness.

Anyway, Doctor Bright attends now these rites, has taken the ashes of burned hearts to make tinctures, which he gives to new victims.

But I don't know that even he believes in his cures.

Rumors abound, people claiming to see the departed in the streets at night, hunting for a fresh victim, livestock behaving strangely, watching with infernal intensity as the farmers went about their daily work.

Children make up rhymes, and father Abbess has had a box made in which he keeps his tools, tools that he has kept hidden from the townsfolk as he continues his secretive war against a devil he cannot seem to keep pace with.

One could indeed believe that creatures stalk the night.

The air is so thick with suspicion.

However, the animals have remained animals.

The rhymes just rhymes.

And as for the dead stalking our people in the night, well I have seen firsthand now that wasn't possible.

A dozen bodies now lay in the churchyard without hearts.

They will not trouble the living but the blood sickness is persistent and real, and the father Josiah may have prevented the dead from stalking the living, he cannot seem to stop with the steady trickle of disease that permeates our village.

Last night, Noah came in late.

I'm stumbling in the dark.

Noah, sh no, No, wife, do not let the l whieh all is well, go back sleep de mars.

Noah, have you been drinking?

Sh No?

What's the matter?

What happened?

Where's your father?

Husband?

To speak to me?

What's going on?

We were called back to the saddur White farm tonight.

The boy we buried and then desecrated his father has fallen.

Ill oh no, no, the poor family.

Yes, we were busy with another family and so did not come right away, And when we did, the door to the house was a jar when we arrived.

Hello, James is a sadd White.

A fire still burned low in the hearth.

Supper was laid on the table, untouched, despite the late as if everyone had disappeared before.

Given the chance to eat, it would be understandable that James sadder White would not eat the fill.

But besides the dead child the family had two more girls, and Missus sadder White beside.

Something was terribly amiss.

It was then.

I saw it on the floor, blood all across the kitchen floor, and in the corner a human tooth.

With me Now we followed a trail of blood into the bedroom to find a massacre.

Oh, dear God in heaven.

It was Missus sadder White.

She lay peacefully across the narrow bed, as if she had laid down for a night's slumber.

Put her entire person was covered in blood.

When we approached the bed, we saw her face, her skull caved in, her jaw crookedly hanging open, the one eye left her staring horribly up into heaven.

And then the corner.

They were just tossed there so carelessly, like rag dolls.

They James was nowhere to be found.

We searched half heartedly to be sure, perhaps hoping that we wouldn't find him at all.

But find him we did.

In the barn.

It was the sound first I thought of the grumblings of a dog busy at his supper her stall.

In the barn.

There, naked and huddled over a carcass, was James sad White, a carcass.

Doctor bright sadder White was pulling out and eating his entrails, his skin shone, he was so completely covered in blood, and on the ground beside him the fireplace poker he had used in the murders of the last of his family, and the poor doctor.

He had not yet noticed me.

So busy was he with his meal, and so I picked up a hammer on a nearby workbench.

I crept up behind him, and I brought it down on the back of his skull.

I'd have done it again and again and again and again if Father hadn't entered the barn at that moment and seen me standing there.

Poker raised, Nah, is he still breathing?

I studied his face as he stood thinking, gazing down at the murderer who had once been James Saturway.

And I stood there dumbly, poker raised above my head, awaiting the word to finish the bloody deed.

But the word did not come.

Son, lower arms.

Father, we are not murderers.

Noah, find me a length of rope, Father, a length of rope.

And so I did as I was bidden.

We sat him up, bound his hands and feet, and together we threw him over Father's horse.

Sh sh, good boy, We'll be free of this load soon enough.

I'm going to take him to the jail and place him in the cell, and there I'll try to do the work of saving his soul and sit with him until dawn and we can pull in men to watch him.

And what am I to do in the meantime?

I want you to say final rights over the sadder, white women and doctor Bright and then burn everything to the ground.

Father, what is it we need assistance?

Are you not able to start a fire?

We need assistance with the spread of the blood fever.

We need doctors, we need soldiers.

We had a doctor, a country doctor who was old and set in his waist.

Doctors could do nothing to prevent what happened here tonight.

And we have the Lord's soldiers on our side.

None of the angels in heaven intervened on this night.

The Lord himself turned a blind eye.

You had best tread lightly, My son bur in the house.

Should we not give them a Christian burial?

Father?

The Lord will find them wherever they are.

Yon I returned to the house, walked towards the bedroom.

I could not I could not look at them.

Demeris.

I stood in the doorway, eyes closed, and I prayed as I have never prayed before.

Give those frantic and we does not do temptation, but deliver us for meful, deliver us from evil, for Thine is the Kingdom, the power, and the glory.

Forever, Father, plant eternity on my eyelids.

I cannot see beyond the evil of this world.

Oh, and then I closed the door on the horrible scene once and for all.

There's no secret that James Saturate White was a fan of brandy.

In the cupboard I found a bottle with which to help spread the fire, and a second to doll the edges of the images carved in my mind.

Noah, but he would speak no more.

That night I could not follow him into sleep, so vivid were the images in my head.

The satur White girls had been my own children's ages.

Catherine Satterwhite had been in the pews for each Sunday service that I could remember, next to James, a doting father.

I could not comprehend the evil, nor could I see a way to fight against it.

I wondered what Father Josiah was thinking that night, watching over the beast that James had become.

I did not have to wait long to find out.

Just before dawn, I gave upon sleep entirely and quietly pulled myself up and out of bed.

I dressed in the dim blue light, without quite knowing why, I was drawn out of the dark house and into the morning.

The wind was chill, and the gray sky's pretended rain or snow.

My feet carried me into town through the bleak morning, and there I found horror almost unspeakable.

A large crowd stood in front of the jail.

The people in it all carried signs of mourning activity.

A boy carrying sacks of flowers stood dumbly next to the butcher, who still wore his dirty apron.

All stared at the front of the building, where Father Abbess stood still as stone.

And beside him, hanging from the poor rafters of the town jail, was the body of James satterwhite, shirtless and covered in blood, a sucking hole in his chest where once his heart had been.

It seems that I had arrived just in time for Father Abbess raised his hands, hushing the crowd.

It is time, my friends, to bring to light the truth of our situation, which, despite my best effort, is dire.

The whispers are true.

The devil walks among us here in Abbystown.

Friends, Friends, let us remain levelheaded.

What is this?

What has become of James?

The family house has burned down, with no sign of Martha or the girls.

James turned down a dark path, I am afraid to say, and like many, he succumbed to the blood fever.

But he did not go peacefully.

He took the lives of his wife and daughters knowa, and I had to subdue him and bring him to justice.

He died a mere hour ago, cursing his God and his family.

He was no longer James Sadder White.

He was an agent of Satan.

The curfew has not been enough, and prayer is a useful tool, but it is not the only tool we have at our disposal.

Henceforth, we shall take all of the afflicted into the church, where we will bind them and work exocisms as needed.

It has become clear that it is the bite of the infectant that causes the blood fever.

Therefore, should you be bitten, it is your moral responsibility to turn yourself in.

And if you see someone who has infected, turn them in.

The Church will do its best to reclaim those who fall ill, and should we fail, the bodies will be disposed of in the manner of James sadur Whites.

The heart shall be removed and burned.

And doctor Bright has mentioned that a tincture may be made of the ashes that will stave off the illness.

We shall attempt to use this remedy when available.

What is the meaning of this, Reverend Abbess, What have you done to this man?

It was Jerry Havoc who dismounted and marched into the crowd, who parted way for him as the Red Sea parted for Moses.

I watched Father Abbess for a response.

In his eyes I saw something frightful, an intensity that I could only describe as hatred.

Mister Havoc, this is butchery.

What crime does this man commit to ue him?

Such a savage fate?

And at the hands of a man of the cloth, no less.

This man murdered his family.

He was found eating the raw entrails of doctor Bright.

Dr Bright's journey murdered attending to James.

James murdered as a result of this blood fever, this possession which we must now fight.

And so you defiled his corpse and hung it up in the town square.

What to teach the illness a lesson?

I have done this to illustrate that all here have a common enemy that must be dealt with severely.

Is that common enemy?

Madness?

Reverend ow dare you?

What of medicine, of sound science?

This is the sickness of the flesh?

Is it not with corporeal roots?

Why?

I am personal friends with Nathan Smith, who founded the medical academy at Dartmouth.

I'd wager he could help find the real root of this.

This is a church matter, now, mister Havoc.

I do not doubt the ability of the church, sir, but evidence suggests that its leader has lost its way.

The evidence suggests that this blood curse began when.

You first arrived, mister Abbock, how dare you, sir?

And I will make sure that if any further investigation on the loss of life and corruption of spirit leads back to your house, If you do, in fact, walk with the devil, sir, I will see you hung.

These two men, Abbess and Havoc, stood face to face, eyes full of malice, and the world ground to a halt around them.

I saw in that moment that both were capable of killing.

This is madness.

The reverend abbess will see this town burn.

And then he was gone, and with him all the sound and fury of the morning.

The crowd dispersed quickly, then, afraid to remain in the presence of Satellite's corpse and the mad preacher who had hung him up.

When Father Josiah turned his eyes to me, they had also drained of their wrath.

I saw instead a man defeated, exhausted.

De Marius.

Father Josiah, I did not mean to intrude No, no.

No, no, dear, of course not.

I am sorry that you have had to bear witness to all of this.

Noah.

Did he return home, yes, sir?

And did he rest, Yes, sir, he was asleep when I left.

Return to the house and rouse him, plice, and tell him to meet me at the church.

An ild wind blows, my dear.

Yes, sir, And with that he departed.

I wish to believe that these events are at a turning point, that the Sign of the Angels will regain its advantage.

I wish to believe that this will end the third of October eighteen seventeen.

My worst fear has been realized.

The church has become a sort of hospital for the condemned.

Over the previous days, all able bodied men not working the harvest have been enlisted.

A dozen poor souls have been brought in bound and raving.

They are tied down to whatever furniture is available and taken care of to the best of any one's ability.

Father Abbess ceased to their salvation, while Noah has been relegated to disposing of their emaciated corpses, driving a stake through their hearts before burying them in a common grave that grows larger and larger, as if it is hungry, as if it will devour us.

All I have witnessed the horror inside the sanctuary, the curses from madmen, the stench of their bodies and excrement, the dead eyes of the men who nurse and feed them, their neighbors and friends.

I cannot imagine that damnation falls far from this scene.

It was in this mire that our family's fate was sealed.

I had come to bring dinner to Noah and Father Abbess.

I was crossing through the churchyard, where men were busy at work digging a large hole in the ground that was consuming more and more of our people.

I had paused to say a brief prayer.

When Noah exited into the yard, a small body slung over his shoulder, a child's.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw me, deep shame on his gaunt face, as if it were his fault that this child had passed, as if he bore the guilt of all the death and misery that had befallen us, as if there was something, anything, that could be done.

My Noah, my poor sweet Noah, gentle and kind, thoughtful and good.

I wished I could relieve his pard demerius, he said, and took another step towards me, when horror of horror's, the small body hanging over his shoulder became suddenly animated, thrashing like a wild animal, and sunk its teeth right into Noah's neck.

The grave digger sprang into action, helping Noah to pull the feral child off of him, pinning it to the ground, and standing there in awestruck terror as it thrashed and cursed beneath them.

I ran to no One, who was clutching his neck, a look of panic in his eyes.

It was then that Father I was burst from the church, alerted by the screams in his hand.

He clutched the steak he'd used so often in previous days.

He took stock of the scene, and before approaching, Noah had considered the small body writhing on the ground, slick with bloody sweat, its eyes wild with hatred.

He stepped between the two men holding the child down, raised the steak, and plunged it through his heart.

Forgive me, father, I thought, I thought the boy was dead.

I could not feel the blood pulsing.

I I'm sorry your throat.

Remove your hands from your neck, Noah.

Noah did as he was told, revealing an angry red white mark from which a small trickle of blood had flowed.

All will be well, lad, We're in the hands of the Father.

Now de Marius take him home and wash his wound, please.

Please, yes, sir, come husband.

And so we walked the road home that we had diggn so many times over the years, past the familiar fields, houses of neighbors, the tree under which Noah had composed his terrible poem to Woomby in our youth.

We saw none of it.

We saw only the shadows that surround us.

We saw only the great black and known ahead.

After a time, Noah spoke in a whisper.

Demeros, come, darling, we.

Must get home.

We must wash the wound before it becomes infected.

Demerius, no, please, please, no, we must hurry walk de Marius no, no, no, I won't hear it.

I won't, Demerius, it is already done.

You were going to need to be brave.

Now you're going to have to take the boys and go far away.

But I cannot leave him.

I cannot leave.

I will not.

Ah, I will see this to its end.

Havoctown was created by me Aaron Mankey.

The show was written and directed by Nicholas Takoski.

This episode was edited and sound designed by Rima El Kali and Jesse Funk, starring Jewels State as Corene Avis, James Callus as Jerry Havoc, Felicia Day as Sylvie, Harris Ray Wise as Josiah Abbas, Crystal Lee as Demeris, Daniel Ernesto A known as Noah Abbas, with additional voice acting from Summer rain Menkey, Sasha Hatfield, Beverly Bremers, and Aaron Mankey.

This season is directed by Nicholas Tukoski, with assistant directors Sarah Klein and Jake Diamond, casting by Sunday Bowling CSA and Meg Mormon CSA.

Production coordinator Wayna Calderon.

Our theme song was created by Chris Childs executive producers Aaron Mankey, Trevor Young, and Matt Frederick, with supervising producer Rima Elkali and producers Nomes Griffin and Jesse Funk.

Havoctown is set in the Bridgewater Audio Universe, which includes the hit fiction podcasts Bridgewater and Consumed.

Learn more about both shows, as well as Havoctown at grimandmild dot com, and find more podcasts from iHeartRadio by visiting the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows