Episode Transcript
[00:00:03] Foreign I'm Ben and welcome to the show where you and I gather around this campfire to hear some of our fellow campers scariest experiences. Whether you're a new or returning camper, I am happy to have you. Tonight we will hear a story about why sometimes it's best to leave that cool vintage piece at the garage sale. The story was sent in by a listener named Nick and it recounts her experience bringing home a piece of art and the haunting that followed it. As always, before we begin the show, if you want to check out our camp's monthly bonus episodes, get a shout out at the end of one and much more, head over to patreon.com do you want to hear a ghost story? Now without further ado, do you want to hear a ghost story?
[00:00:58] It all started on a warm summer day, a Saturday morning. I think I was wandering around the neighborhood, just browsing the sale we were having, looking for anything that caught my eye, really. There were tables filled with old trinkets, vintage books and household items that had seen better days, and then a painting leaning against a table covered in dusty knick knacks. The painting depicted a serene landscape of a misty forest. The colors were muted greens and greys, with a path leading off into the distance, disappearing into the fog. It had an old wooden frame, chipped in places, but the image itself was beautiful, comforting. It felt oddly familiar, as though I had seen it somewhere before.
[00:01:51] It felt like it was calling me, just wanting to go home.
[00:01:56] This one has a lot of history. My great grandfather painted it, the elderly woman said to me as I checked out from her little shop at the garage sale.
[00:02:07] I shrugged this comment off, thinking it was odd that she would be selling something so sentimental, and that perhaps she was maybe just trying to add some allure to the sale. I paid her just a few dollars and she ended up handing me the painting with a nod.
[00:02:25] As I walked away, I glanced back and she was still watching me, her eyes following me until I left her point of view.
[00:02:33] I brought the painting home and hung it in my living room above the fireplace. It fit perfectly with the cozy feel of the room and the rest of the day. Everything felt great. Every time I glanced at the painting, I felt a sense of calm overtake me. It was as if the painting was inviting me to take a walk, to step inside its quiet, misty world, to take a break from mine and unwind. If I had only known the journey this painting would take me on. The first night I woke up to a strange noise, a soft rustling like leaves Blowing across the floor.
[00:03:13] It was subtle smoothing, really, but it was loud enough to pull me from my sleep.
[00:03:20] I thought maybe I'd left a window open, but I checked. All of them were shut.
[00:03:26] The sound seemed to come from the living room, but upon inspection, there was nothing out of the ordinary.
[00:03:33] My painting still hung where I had left it. I stood there for a second, staring at the path winding into the mist, before shaking off the whole encounter with the rustling, blaming it on my imagination, possibly a new house sound that I had not noticed before, and went back to bed. The next morning, I noticed the painting had shifted slightly on the wall, just a bit to the left, as if someone had nudged it. I adjusted it back into place, making sure it was secure.
[00:04:05] I even stepped back to make sure it was straight.
[00:04:09] That night, to my dismay, I was again woken up to the sound of rustling, Although tonight it was louder, much louder, and it was accompanied by a faint knocking, like someone tapping on the outside of the wall or window.
[00:04:26] I laid there in bed for a moment, listening, the sound echoing throughout my house. I tried to ignore it, to convince myself it was nothing.
[00:04:36] But then there was a crash in the living room. I rushed out of my bed, flipping on the light as I entered the room. The painting was on the floor and the frame cracked along one of the edges.
[00:04:48] I should have taken this as a sign, in hindsight, to get rid of the painting then, once and for all. But something compelled me to put it back above the fireplace.
[00:04:58] Maybe it was the way this path in the image called to me, or the strange sense of calm it had given me before.
[00:05:06] I prepared the frame and hung it back up, this time securing it more firmly with new hooks.
[00:05:13] For a few days after that, everything was quiet. Everything was back to normal. I almost convinced myself that all of these noises, the painting falling off, was just a coincidence and my imagination had run wild with it. My life went on as usual. I went back to work, came home, cooked dinner, and spent my evenings reading or watching tv.
[00:05:38] However, a feeling came back, a sense that something was not quite right. The air in my living room began feeling heavier and colder, even when my heat was on full blast and the painting seemed different. The colors looked darker and the mist thicker, as if it was closing in on the trail.
[00:06:02] From here, activity around my whole house began, though it started small objects moving on their own. I would leave my keys on the table by the door, only to find them in the kitchen drawer. A book I had been reading would fall off the shelf, landing open on the floor. I tried to rationalize it. But deep down, I knew something was wrong. And I think I knew what was causing it. One night when I couldn't sleep, I sat up on the couch, reading, when suddenly the rustling returned. It was louder than it had ever been and much more distinct, as if these leaves were blowing right through the room in front of me. I held my breath, straining to listen. Soft, barely audible. But someone was definitely speaking. Just out of my earshot.
[00:06:53] My heart began to race, my skin prickling with fear. I turned to look at the painting. When I caught my breath in my throat.
[00:07:02] The shadows in the painting were moving, shifting between the trees, as if the painting itself was alive. The whispering grew louder, more insistent, but I couldn't hear what it was saying until it became a full chorus of overlapping voices filling the room, still, indistinct. I couldn't understand what these voices were saying. My lights flickered, and I felt a cold breeze brush against my skin.
[00:07:31] My eyes were locked on the painting, and I saw all the shadows moving along the path within it, coming closer and closer to the end near the front of the painting until they reached out. Out of the painting.
[00:07:46] That's when the painting fell from the wall again, this time the frame splintering it to tiny pieces that hit the floor. The whispering stopped with it, and the room fell silent.
[00:07:58] I knew at this moment I couldn't take it anymore. And that I couldn't have this painting any longer. I grabbed the painting, my fingers gripping the edges of the cracked frame. I took it outside and left it at the curb.
[00:08:11] I didn't care if anyone took it or if the trash collectors picked it up. I just needed it gone.
[00:08:17] For one final moment. I stood there, staring at the painting on my curb, its serene landscape now seeming anything but peaceful.
[00:08:26] And then I turned, went back inside, closing my door firmly behind me, never looking back.
[00:08:32] My house was quiet. For the first time in what felt like years, I felt like I could breathe again. That night, I slept peacefully, without rustling, without whispers.
[00:08:44] In the morning, I peeked outside, and the painting was gone. A sense of relief washed over me, like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
[00:08:53] I don't know who took it or if they've had any similar experiences to me. Frankly, I don't care. I'm just happy that whatever that painting is no longer haunts me.
[00:09:07] Thank you, Nick, for allowing me to share your story. This was a different one. At least from my memory. I don't think we've had one quite like this before. At our campfire. I really enjoyed it. And I must say, I am taking your cautionary tale to heart. I don't know if you'll find me at any yard sales anytime soon for show announcements. I want to take a second to reflect on the show. It's been going for a while now and it's honestly become an integral part of my life these days. I'm really excited to see where the show goes. This is episode 27. We've had a Halloween special and we've had four bonus episodes over on the Patreon.
[00:09:45] It has been very exciting for me to do this show. Now I'd like to give a special secondary shout out to all of the camp counselors and founders. Thank you Ricky, Danny, Karen, Ben and Rowan. Your support really helps me with the show and I am forever grateful with that. If you would like early access to ad free episodes, a shout out at the end of one, head over to patreon.com dhearagostory and as always, I am glad to have you all as campers on this journey. And please keep sharing the show with anyone you think might like these stories or someone you are just trying to scare. If you're enjoying the show, go ahead and leave a review. I would love to hear from you. Until next time.
