Welcome, friend. Have a seat by the fire. Make yourself comfortable.

It was a maddening conclusion, one that she now deeply dreaded.

There was nowhere she could flee to escape the voices, those lost souls aimlessly seeking what could never be found.

Nowhere to flee, for there was not a single patch of this haunted earth, not sprinkled with the dust of the dead,

and the whole world was a tomb.

You're listening to Camp Fire Radio Theatre.

Our All Hallows Eve tale was scripted by John Ballantyne and guides us on a shadowy quest for the ever-elusive Twilight Road.

Well, that takes care of Mr. Roberts.

Doris will be in tomorrow for hair and makeup, judging by the decomposition. This will be a closed casket.

Such a shame. Poor man died there in that apartment. No one found him for, what, nearly a week?

Unfortunately, that's what happens with the elderly. Those that live alone tend to be forgotten.

A fine job considering the shape he was in. Good work, Torrey.

Thank you. A bit more of a challenge than usual.

Stay in the mortuary business for long and you'll encounter a lot worse, trust me.

Wow. I had no idea it was this late. I guess I'll wash up if we're done here.

Let me get this.

Yeah, it's mortuary.

Yeah.

Never good news this time of night.

Yes, no problem.

Good night.

So, apparently another body is en route from the hospital accident victim.

...