Before today’s episode, I’ve got another trailer to share
morbid forest is a horror anthology currently airing their 5th season.
It is a lovely, chilling show that is guaranteed to make you shiver
and disgust you,
and season 5 is going to be their biggest season yet.
In their 10th episode this season, you’ll be able to hear me do my best performance
but enough talking. Here is: The Morbid Forest
[Forest ambiance]
[Spider Crawling]
Man: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Why, greetings, my dear traveler.
I see my sweet pet Larry has guided you right to where you need to be.
Oh? Where are you, you ask?
*Evil Laugh*
This is the morbid forest. Come. Sit by the fire for a while
and let Ranger Harper regale you with a tale to truly terrify.
The Morbid Forest is a horror fiction anthology podcast.
New episodes release every Tuesday on your favorite podcast streaming app.
So, stay close to the Ranger or you'll find yourself trapped within the Morbid Forest.
[Forest ambiance fades]
That was The Morbid forest. You can listen anywhere you find your podcasts.
Now, today’s episode: A Criminal Confession
This episode contain elements that could be sensitive to some individuals,
including crime and mentions of cancer. See the shownotes for additional details.
[Jail ambiance]
THE SHADE: I don't really know how to begin this letter.
*Writing on paper*
I've recently been... gifted a tremendous amount of time to think,
and I do not need to worry about paying rent. Dream come true, right?
Well, my current, um, residence leaves a lot to be desired. I do not
recommend it, even from this position of relative shelter from the capitalistic
hellscape of the outside world.
Whatever is going on is, for now at least, not really my problem.
I'm rambling, but if I don't write this BS down I might go insane.
I'm thankful the guards don't see me as a security risk, otherwise they
would have assumed this pencil was to be used as a improvisational shank or
something, I don't know. I've seen too many prison movies, but that's
neither here nor there and yet again, not really relevant. *writing stops*
Okay, I better get started. The Iliad wasn't
written by beating around the bush and feeling sorry for oneself, or maybe
it was. Hah. It's not like I can just look it up, but... okay, scratch all this
*paper being balled up and thrown in the trash*
THE SHADE: Okay, let's
try this shit again. *writing resumes* *inmate screaming*
When I was 6 or 7 my mother got sick,
and while she
survived the cancer I didn't know that would be the case at the time. I
ended up in the wrong crowd, picked fights with everyone.
By the time I was a teenager I had lost count over how many teeth I
had... let's say "liberated" from mouth prisons. I ran away from home at 16, blaming
my mother for my shortcomings in a way I really regret now, but she's
been in the grave for years at this point, and I'd like to say my
tendencies for violence is what did her in. I would never raise a fist
towards her, lest anyone thinks otherwise. I think it's more of a
psychological thing, breaking her heart every time I broke someone's face,
or something like that. Things could have been a whole lot worse,
but that's when she, the artist, found me.
Like me, she didn't have the best circumstances in life, but where I
would punch my way into and out of problems, her style was that of
ruthless manipulation. We became instant friends, deciding to join
forces and formed the Shade Duo, the most notorious criminals this small
town had ever seen. Where I would leave a broken nose, she would find
ways to manipulate the teachers into inadvertently enacting her revenges
and solve petty squabbles. I was once the victim of such a manipulation,
although I didn't know it at the time. I was accused of having thrown
a rock through a window, and the teachers just assumed it was me.
After all, that's what I did, I broke stuff. They said they had a witness
pinning me at the location, even though I was inside trying to break
into the cafeteria vending machine. There was no use arguing and I was
forced to pay for the repairs. Having no money, I started turning the nerds
upside down and shake them until money came out. Now, even my
thick skull realized that nerds alone would never make a dent in the debt I
had incurred, I needed a plan. Thankfully, there she was. *writing stops*
[Prison fades] [schoolyard ambiance]
THE ARTIST (teenager): I heard you needed to find some quick money
THE SHADE (teenager): Where did you hear that?
THE ARTIST (teenager): Come on dude, everyone knows you
broke the window. Stuff like that is expensive.
THE SHADE (teenager): Leave me alone.
THE ARTIST (teenager): I've got a proposition for you.
THE SHADE (teenager): How so?
THE ARTIST (teenager): The corner store doesn't have cameras
and I know the combination to their safe. I tell you how to get in, and
we split the profits 50/50.
THE SHADE (teenager): What's in it for me?
THE ARTIST (teenager): Do you have any idea what kind of
money they are moving? If we do this,
we'd live like kings. We could afford anything, do whatever we wanted.
THE SHADE (teenager): And what's to stop me from doing it
alone? I could empty the safe and not tell you.
THE ARTIST (teenager): You won't do that, because I'd know
it was you. We'd make a great team. Acquiring knowledge is my specialty.
[schoolyard fades]
[prison resumes] *writing resumes*
THE SHADE (current day): She was right, of course. She usually
is. And so it happened, one slow Saturday night. She had all the
details planned out, employee schedules, the combination,
everything.
She had been planning this for a while, and it went perfectly.
One hundred thousand SEK, roughly 10 thousand dollars, split evenly
between us. I didn't think it would cause the shop owner to close down,
or I did and flat out didn't care. That was our first heist together,
and after getting a taste for the thrill, we were soon planning out
another. The school was suspicious when I paid of the debt in full,
doubly so when the news broke about the corner store, but by then we were
long gone, leaving the town for the capitol. And man was Stockholm
wonderful. Nobody knew us, we could blend in easily and there was enough
crime that nobody would think twice about us. She was a couple of years
older and had her own car. We were unstoppable, but of course it didn't
take long before our money was gone. Turns out a hundred thousand wasn't
that much money when that's all you had. *writing stops*
*PA jingle*
PA SYSTEM: All inmates are to follow the
directions from the guards. Failure
to comply will be noted and can result in lost privileges and extended sentencing.
THE SHADE (speaking over announcement): Yeah yeah yeah, all inmates, blah blah blah, whatever.
*writing resumes* Our next scheme was a bit more involved.
I cannot begin to fathom how she pulled it off, but the end to our
stay in Stockholm was quickly approaching. We needed cash, fast.
She staged an accident, wrecking our car, the one permanent home we had. I
was furious with her but she told me not to worry, everything would work
out in the end. She made it look as though we had both perished in the
crash, and finagled our life insurance to get to a account we
controlled rather than to our next of kin.
I visited a ungodly amount of ATMs that week. 3.7 million SEK, just
like that. Her gamble had paid off, but I was growing suspicious.
It was a incredibly dangerous stunt she pulled off,and now we no longer
had a way of legally driving, or do anything, for that matter. She failed
to consider the consequences of being legally dead, but we kept at it. We
did so many heists it was kind of unbelievable, until our Magnum Opus.
The year was 2009, and we were bringing out all the stops for that one
We had acquired a helicopter,
took great pains to have the police grounded before moving on to the G4S
cash service depot in Västberga, Stockholm. The robbery went off
without a hitch, we rappelled down a skylight and was on our way again
within minutes. Me and her wasn't on site, but had planned the whole thing
and would make sure the booty was kept safe after the fact. Everybody
involved, except the two of us got arrested after the fact, but that was
only the beginning of the end for me. Soon after the heist, she disappeared
on me with all the money. I feared the worst, in light of the fate of
our colleagues. Was she arrested? Fled the country? Laying low? After a
few weeks of this I was very annoyed and happened to find her at a bar. I
approached her, consumed by a rage I had not felt since I was a child. I
held my tongue however, keeping the worst of it inside, and approached.
*writing stops* [prison ambiance stops] [Bar ambiance]
THE SHADE: I-is that you? The artist?
THE ARTIST: That's not a name
I really go by anymore.
THE SHADE: Well, where have you
been? I feared they had gotten to you.
THE ARTIST: I had some stuff to take care of,
none of your business.
THE SHADE: We have been working together for a
decade, you have not once left like that.
THE ARTIST: Don't take that tone with me. My life
is my own, and yours is yours. I do not come here making demands on you,
do I? If you have issues with how I operate I suggest you keep them to
yourself and try not to test my patience.
THE SHADE: I thought I deserved at least...
THE ARTIST: You assumed wrong.
THE SHADE: Okay, but what about the money?
THE ARTIST: It's always
money with you. I have it secured and I was gonna come find you
and show you, but now I don't feel like it anymore. Goodbye forever.
[Bar ambiance stops]
*writing continues* [prison ambiance resumes*
THE SHADE: And that was that. I didn't hear from
her again, and when I tried to press her on the money thing, her two
bodyguards made it clear to me the conversation was over.
I could have taken them, and I'm sure she was counting on that, but I left
instead. I surly would have been arrested and I knew when to call it
quits. I didn't have much of an idea
where to go from there, I had no marketable skills and without The
Artist there was simply no way I could construct a heist like we had
grown accustomed to. Money was running out quick, I had to do
something. That's when I felt a hand on my shoulder. A police officer.
They told me that I was under arrest for involvement in, well, everything.
I later found out that our shared bank accounts had been emptied and
that she had pinned it all on me. The insurance fraud, the banks we had
emptied, even the corner store job. A anonymous tip was all it took and I
was a dead man walking. I was never even supposed to make it out of the
helicopter job, she was cutting ties and I was left with nothing.
So, now you know my story. It wasn't supposed to turn out like this, I
know it hurt you to learn of my supposed car crash, and hearing it
took Mom's life... I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me. I will
spend the rest of my days behind bars, all I ask is that you come
visit. I hope I can still have a relationship with my father, after all these years.
*writing stops* *paper crumbles*
Fuck, I can't send that. I put myself in this position by trusting her, I
do not need to bring anyone else down with my crap. What's done is done,
picking at the scabs any more than this will just make things worse.
Better for the world if I just keep to myself...
*PA Jingle*
A Criminal Confession was narrated, written,
directed and edited by Pelle Frid, with consultation from Edward the sound guy.
The Artist was played by Devyn Boer.
The PA system was Heizhima, with sound effects taken from various sources,
the Sixth door to the Left Cover was created by Yendysear.
The Divine Rodentia Studios Logo was created by Zacharias Frid.
To find out more about our cast and crew or Divine Rodentia Studios,
please visit our website divinerodentiastudios.transistor.fm
Creating art is expensive, if you have the means to do so a one-time donation
to our ko-fi page would be greatly appreciated.
ko-fi.com/divinerodentiastudios
This has been a production by Divine Rodentia Studios