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Mike Williams set off on a hunting trip into the swamps of North Florida, where it was thought he met his fate by a group of hungry alligators, except that's not what happened.

And after the uncovering of a secret love triangle, the truth would finally be revealed.

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Welcome to the Strange and unusual podcast.

Before we begin with this week's episode, I want to remind you that I've got a lot of fantastic things planned for the episodes,

leading up to Halloween, including this newly recorded and remade version of a ghost story I wrote in 2019.

The Curse of Winthropols.

Perfect for kicking off this spooky season.

Last week I released part one of the story, so that brings us to today, in part two.

After the release of the third and final episode of the story next week, I have other spooky shows in the works, and also an entirely new spooky story I've written for this new Halloween season.

I'll be bringing you a lot of non-fiction episodes too. It'll make you want to get yourself to a haunted house immediately.

So, without further ado, I bring you the all newly repackaged, redone remastered, all of it. The Curse of Winthropols Part 2.

November 14th, 1866, Winthropols, Massachusetts.

17-year-old Henry Winthrop reached deep into a dark corner of his wardrobe, bringing a shapeless bundle of cloth into the hazy glow of the sun, setting through his window.

Sitting gingerly on a foot of his bed, he placed the rumpled pile of old worn fabric on his lap, where it took on the unbearable weight of a shameful secret.

Motionless, he stared at it, momentarily suspended in apprehension, but finally, cautiously, he enrapt the blue and white checkered blanket, and within, the thing which had become the object of his dread was wrapped tightly in a thread-bear scarf.

And after he'd solely unwounded, Henry was met with reflection of his rigid, tense face, stirring back at him from the mirror.

Its polished surface, once unmarred, was now badly shattered, but somehow, not nearly as damaged as it was when it landed hard on the cellar floor that night.

And explicably, the glass was repairing itself, little by little, so slowly though that most people probably wouldn't have noticed.

...