Hello, gentle listener, and welcome to Nocturnal Transmissions, the fortnightly podcast that brings you dark tales both old and new, performed by voice artist, Kristen Holland.

Episode 17.

We're launching our brand new logo this episode.

Yes, our dedicated art department have been slaving over hot IMAX in the dark bowels of the nocturnal transmissions laboratories to bring you this,

our latest sigil. We hope you like it. Now, if memory serves, I do believe we're yet to deliver

on our promise to share some Sarki with you.

Let's rectify that situation right now.

Nocturnal Transmissions is proud to present Shredni Vashtar by Hector Hugh Munro, otherwise known as Saki.

Conradin was ten years old and the doctor had pronounced his professional opinion that the boy would not live another five years.

The doctor was silky in a feat and counted for little, but his opinion was endorsed by Mrs. D'erop, who counted for nearly everything.

Mrs. D'erop was Conradon's cousin and guardian, and in his eyes, she represented those

three-fifths of the world that are necessary and disagreeable and real. The other two-fifths,

in perpetual antagonism to the foregoing, were summed up in himself and his imagination.

One of these days, Conradon supposed he would succumb to the mastering pressure of wearisome necessary things,

such as illnesses and coddling restrictions and drawn out dullness. Without his imagination,

which was rampant under the spur of loneliness, he would

have succumbed long ago. Mrs. de Ropp would never, in her honestest moments, have confessed

to herself that she disliked Conradin, though she might have been dimly aware that thwarting him,

for his good, was a duty which she did not find

particularly irksome. Conradon hated her with a desperate sincerity which he was perfectly able to

mask. Such few pleasures as he could contrive for himself gained an added relish from the likelihood

that they would be displeasing

...