Rusty Quill presents

Old Gods of Appalachia is a horror anthology podcast and therefore may contain material not suitable for all audiences.

So, this is your discretion.

Is it vast?

There are many things that I'm a walk so often I can feel the winds now holding you close.

The town of Lost Harbor sat far to the south of the Kentucky Mountains in the high hills of the border separating North Carolina and Tennessee.

Founded by Portuguese sailors who had given up the sea and sought work and prosperity inland, the town was a close knit community that of course took care of its own and was wary of outsiders.

She'd reported to town as she'd been instructed an emissive brought to her by the eldest of the six men.

The blank-eyed half-dead servants sent to her by the thing that pretended to be a black stag and lived deep in the woods.

Another letter had been sent on to a young doctor who was trying to establish a practice in the community that a young widow with midwife and nursing training would be moving to town soon and that he had need for such a girl.

Folks with medical training of any sort were in high demand in last harbor.

Dr. Harold Gillespie wrote back that he would indeed be happy for the health.

Within a few days of arriving and setting up in a local boarding house, our good daughter Dudley had herself a job, caring for some elder folk who were clearly near the end of their time.

The sickness had passed through the territory a few weeks prior and most had recovered except for these poor August souls.

One thing you can say about daughter Dudley is that when given the chance she didn't stay a stranger long.

She was kind and she was good at what she did and before you knew it these good folks trusted her completely and came to love her like a grandbaby.

To them she looked barely 18 despite her actual 30 years at this point and they lamented how she'd become a widow so young and how unfair it was for her beauty and womb to be wasted and did she know Doc Gillespie was unmarried and so on and so forth in the life.

She treasured her time for the mammals and papalas of last harbor as they all treated her kindly.

And she was there for the passing of each and every one of them watching the light slide from their eyes where their bodies finding stillness and an everlasting sleep.

It made her heart swell with peace to know their suffering and sickness was over.

But it also reminded her that as far as she knew she might never know such a rest.

Now about two weeks after papal vestor and mammal myrtle past she called all the old folk pramp on papal and graham on, mammal and granny it seemed a plesum.

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