Hello there, dear listeners. It has come time once more to venture down into the Vault for one of my Sinister Tales of Terror! I am unaware of how the weather might be treating you. However here at the Vault there is a rather nasty snow storm brewing. Which is why I have chosen a tale that I call ‘Footprints’.
With such delightfully horrid weather howling outside these walls. I can assure the best place to be as a matter of fact is beside myself. In front of the roaring fire. Moreover it might even chase away the chills of the story I have to share with you today.
Footprints is a true tale, an incident that occurred in Haddonfield. Many, many years ago during a similar snow storm. In fact we have John Ives to thank for sending me an electronic missive, requesting such a tale.
I want to take a moment and thank The Retroist once again for that charming, moreover vintage artwork for the broadcast. I must assume that he was becoming rather embarrassed over the previous artwork, eh? It is not as if Victor Sage can deliver a radio broadcast properly. To say nothing of supplying the appropriate artwork for my radio program, eh? Heh, heh.
Now I beg of you to extinguish your electric lights. Lean in closer to the soothing glow of your personal radio. As I begin this broadcast for my Sinister Tales of Terror…
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