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The real story of Krampus is the subject of today’s holiday edition of Unpleasant Dreams! Oh, and be sure to be good. You wouldn’t want to upset The Krampus…
Find the original article by EM Hilker that this podcast is based on HERE
PODCAST TRANSCRIPT
A fresh blanket of snow glistens in the cold light of the moon, a contrast to the warm glow of street lamps, wrapping the city streets in the cozy blanket of early winter. Twinkling across the surrounding fields in the night, mirroring the light of the moon in a million broken rays, the landscape is nevertheless stark beyond the forests surrounding the city.
The creatures come from there, beyond the city, thickly furred and sharply clawed, from dank caves and deep, dark, ancient places. Some have feet and some have cloven hooves, some one of each; the thick layer of snow softly crunching under feet and hooves both in a smudge of sound as they scatter across the landscape and toward the small, neat houses. Their faces, pallid and gnarled and very nearly demonic, turn from moon-silver to a pale bronze as they approach the warmly-lit city streets, chains and bells clinking gently as they draw near.
CLICK HERE FOR A FULL TRANSCRIPT AND SOURCES
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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The real story of Krampus is the subject of today’s holiday edition of Unpleasant Dreams! Oh, and be sure to be good. You wouldn’t want to upset The Krampus…
Find the original article by EM Hilker that this podcast is based on HERE
PODCAST TRANSCRIPT
A fresh blanket of snow glistens in the cold light of the moon, a contrast to the warm glow of street lamps, wrapping the city streets in the cozy blanket of early winter. Twinkling across the surrounding fields in the night, mirroring the light of the moon in a million broken rays, the landscape is nevertheless stark beyond the forests surrounding the city.
The creatures come from there, beyond the city, thickly furred and sharply clawed, from dank caves and deep, dark, ancient places. Some have feet and some have cloven hooves, some one of each; the thick layer of snow softly crunching under feet and hooves both in a smudge of sound as they scatter across the landscape and toward the small, neat houses. Their faces, pallid and gnarled and very nearly demonic, turn from moon-silver to a pale bronze as they approach the warmly-lit city streets, chains and bells clinking gently as they draw near.
CLICK HERE FOR A FULL TRANSCRIPT AND SOURCES
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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