Hello, gentle listener, and welcome to Nocturnal Transmissions, the fortnightly podcast that brings you dark tales, both old and new, performed by your humble

narrator, Kristen Holland.

Fleck is back. Our old friend Aaron Vleck has returned to share another dread-inducing

diversion with us. A fishy tale from good old HP Lovecraft's favorite port of call.

You know where we mean.

So, nocturnal transmissions is proud to present

Aaron Flex, Scion of the folds of certain familial lines,

taking root there to bear a dark fruit,

bloody of seed.

These families and their unfortunate offspring clutch what dignity they may to their troubled bosoms

as this murmuration of sorrows feeds upon them like a murder of putrescent vultures, upon an ever-waiting feast.

Do not think I set upon these pages to flog myself in the public eye for pity's sake,

but rather to offer a cautionary warning tale to the wise.

This and... Nothing more.

It had been one year to the very day since I had laid my beloved wife Lydia to rest.

That is not strictly accurate of courses.

I had received no body to have dressed in its finery,

only to be consigned to that melancholy box, and then covered over with the cold and

merciless earth of eternity.

Lydia had undertaken a brief voyage by sea in search of certain manuscripts germane to her many years of devoted study.

It was an expedition ill-advised and thoroughly against my wishes, but in the end I could brook no legitimate objection to her plans and so had relented and

surrendered my reluctant blessings.

...