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For many years, ghost hunters have been fascinated by tales of the lost village of Dudleytown, a vanished Connecticut village that was apparently plagued by ghosts, demons, and residents who vanished without a trace. These grave events were said to be caused by a curse, brought by the Dudley family to the New World. But how real was this curse? Welcome to Destination Terror, your passport to the scariest places in the world.
From haunted hotels to locations of unexplained creature sightings, we will travel to places that will provide excitement, adventure and horror. Today we are discussing Dudleytown, Connecticut, known by some as the Village of the Damned. It may be haunted, cursed or both, but there's no way to find out because this place is off limits to visitors.
So if you're into travel and all things scary, listen close and you might just discover your next exciting adventure destination. But hopefully not your final destination. Destination Terror is an EerieCast original podcast hosted by me, Carmen Carrion. If you would like to send us a suggestion or submit a story with your own experience, you can email them to carmencarrion at gmail.com.
or follow me on Twitter at Carmen Carrion. If you enjoy the show, please follow and rate Destination Terror on Spotify and Apple Podcasts to help us grow. Also, check out eeriecast.com for more scary podcasts, such as Tales from the Break Room, featuring allegedly true and terrifying stories that happened on the job.
A school bus was probably the worst place to take a nap, but Eric wasn't having any problem until one of the tires hit a pothole that caused his head to bounce off the window when the entire bus jerked. Damn it, he growled. He had bitten his tongue and his mouth was instantly filled with a metallic taste of blood. Language! Mr. Gibbons, the science teacher, yelled from the front seat.
Nothing ever got past that man. He insisted that his students walk a tightrope. Eric hadn't wanted to go on this stupid field trip, but he needed the extra credit. And if he ditched school one more time, his dad wouldn't help him get his car fixed. So he was basically doomed to spend two days camping with a bunch of people he didn't even like. He had never liked school. From his first day, he had been an outcast and a target for bullies.
His clothes were never nice enough, and he talked funny, or at least the rest of the kids had thought so. Being born with a cleft palate had caused him to talk with a lisp, and even after his surgery, when he was still just a toddler, the lisp stayed. He had pulled away from the other kids when they teased him, and had only made one real friend through the years. Toby. But Toby's family moved away this past summer, and Eric was left all alone.
Eric put his backpack between his head and the window, using it as a pillow, and was trying to go back to sleep, when something bounced off the back of his head and landed in the seat beside him. He looked down and saw an empty root beer can and knew immediately who had thrown it at him. It was Gavin Penske, not only the biggest bully in the whole ninth grade class, but the meanest.
He bullied anyone and everyone, but his favorite target had been Eric ever since the Battle Ball incident in fifth grade, where Eric had managed to nail him right in the face and bloody his nose. He had not only settled the score, but had continued to torment him for years. Eric tried to ignore him as he scrunched down deeper into the seat, hoping to avoid a confrontation. He knew what that would lead to.
The last time he stood up to Gavin, he was the one who ended up with a bloody nose. He knew he couldn't take him, so why bother? The bus lurched again as it turned into the Hemlock Hill Camp Resort. Mr. Gibbons yelled for everyone to remain seated until the bus stopped, which saved Eric from having to deal with Gavin. For the moment, anyway. He could see from the bus that the campground was already teeming with kids even though summer hadn't officially started. He just didn't like people in general.
Most of them were pretentious, judgmental, and shallow, or just plain mean like Gavin. Eric stood as soon as Mr. Gibbons gave the order, hoping to exit the bus with as much distance between him and Gavin as possible. Once off the bus, he made his way to the back of the group. The school had reserved all of the camping sites on the tree-filled hillside of the resort.
Eric had brought a small dome tent and once it was unloaded, he made his way to pick out a spot where he felt concealed from most of the other students behind a large tree. He pitched his tent and then crawled inside, unrolled his sleeping bag and plopped down on it. He would stay in the tent the entire time if he could get by with it, but he knew that they would be calling everyone out for lunch before too long. Eric was putting his earbuds in his ears when the entire tent began shaking.
Come on, loser. Get out of there. Gavin had found him after all. There was no way around it now. He would have to get this confrontation over with to appease the bully for a while. Eric shoved his earbuds in his pocket, unzipped the tent, and crawled out. I'm not here to pick on you, Gavin said quickly. I'm here to bury the hatchet.
Eric looked at him sideways, not easily swayed into believing that all of a sudden after all these years Gavin suddenly wanted to make peace and be friends. "'I'm listening,' Eric said reluctantly. "'Me and the boys,' Gavin motioned to several of his friends who were always following him and were now hanging back listening quietly. "'We're going to sneak off later and have a little fun. "'This is your chance to join the gang. Be one of us.'
You know, if you aren't too scared, that is. Eric knew that he couldn't win no matter what he chose. If he declined, the bullying would persist, and if he accepted, well, it was probably just a trick, and he'd end up the butt of some horrible prank. Sure, Eric answered. At least this way he was putting off the inevitable for a little while longer, and maybe by then he could find a way out.
"Okay then, I'll send someone to get you when it's time. Just don't tell anyone," Gavin ordered as he turned and walked away with his followers right on his heels. Eric had just finished his dinner when someone tapped him roughly on the shoulder. He turned to look and saw that it was one of Gavin's buddies. He was fairly new, and Eric couldn't remember his name. He just knew that he had started their school a few months back. He was short and stocky with jet black hair.
He looked nervous, and Eric guessed that he had chose to follow Gavin over getting bullied. He had a kind of sad look about him as he turned and walked off, expecting Eric to follow him. Eric threw his paper plate in the trash and grabbed up his half-empty backpack that had been laying on the picnic table next to him. He then took off after the boy who was now almost out of sight.
He didn't have to go far into the woods before he saw Gavin with three other boys gathered around him, including the new kid. He was holding a piece of paper in his hand while his most notorious sidekick held a flashlight so he could read it. "'Well, well, you showed up. I thought you would wuss out,' Gavin said as Eric joined their group. "'What are we doing?' Eric asked nonchalantly."
"We're going to look for Dudleytown," Gavin answered without hesitation. "This campground isn't that far from it. Only a few miles, actually." Eric knew exactly the place Gavin was talking about. He had heard stories about that place. He had heard that it was cursed. He wanted to ask Gavin if he was sure that was a good idea, but he was more scared of Gavin's reaction than the supposedly cursed town.
He had a really bad feeling about this, but he kept his lips sealed as they all began to head off into the woods, away from the camp.
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Ever since my trip to the East Coast last fall, I can't get enough of the haunted places in some of the oldest towns in the history of the U.S. Sadly, this next location isn't open to the public, but we'll get into that later. There's an area of land located deep in Connecticut's northwest corner that seems to be the subject of some controversy. On the one hand, some people claim that it is haunted or cursed.
Even Ed and Lorraine Warren claimed in the 1970s that it was under the control of a demonic possession. The history of this area is fairly extensive and ranges from the generally awful, which was always terrible, to the allegedly outright horrifying. These are the kinds of stories that are always worth looking into to see whether they are genuinely happening the way people claim, or if someone's imagination simply ran wild.
In the far upper corner of northwestern Connecticut, not far from the historic town of Cornwall, in the shadow of three mountains, lies a place where only the bravest of hearts tread. It was once a colonial settlement known as Dudleytown, and it's reported to have been the scene of many people's tragic deaths in the 1700s and 1800s, unexplainable madness in the 20th century.
and stories of unusual noises and wraiths in the last 50 years. Dudleytown has resembled Connecticut's Blair Witch Woodland, due to the word-of-mouth transmission and the reach of the internet. In his 2001 book, The Legend of Dudleytown, author Gary P. Dudley stated that the tale has all the makings of a really great horror story: historical figures, mysterious happenings, ghosts, and a curse.
Dudleytown, which is now little more than boulders and a few abandoned foundations, saw an increase in campfires and boisterous drinking parties after the release of the well-known film The Blair Witch Project in 1999. Teenagers would make an effort to track down the location but end up lost in the woods, and the neighborhood cops received call after call to either break up the parties or rescue people. As a result,
The citizens of Dark Entry, who own Dudleytown, blocked off all access points. Without their consent, anyone who tries to locate it risks being arrested or paying a large fine. While it's hard to get to Dudleytown, it's easier than ever to learn about it. The folklore of Dudleytown is featured in several books and on dozens of websites with pictures of strange lights and blurs.
There are references to a cursed family of Dudleys who settled the area in the early 1700s. Thomas Griffiths, one of the first people to settle in this area, was the first owner of Dudleytown, or at least the territory where it was situated, in the early 1740s. He may not have ever resided where Dudleytown later stood, but he did own half of the land in 1741, according to the records.
The village would receive its name a little while later, in 1747, upon Gideon Dudley's arrival. Two brothers who followed Gideon to the area are known as the Dudleys. They are believed to have brought a curse that has allegedly plagued the area ever since to this small community. The curse is said to have started in England about 1510, according to stories that have been told.
Edmund Dudley was executed at that time for taking part in a plan to depose King Henry VIII. This is when the family allegedly came under a curse that predicted all future generations of the Dudleys would live in misery and death. After that, according to those who believe in the curse, the Dudley family allegedly started having an unsettling string of bad luck.
John Dudley, Edmund's son, also made an effort to seize control of the British monarchy by arranging for his son, Guildford, to wed Lady Jane Grey, the heir apparent. Following the death of Edward VI, Lady Jane reigned for a brief period until the scheme went awry and she and the two Dudleys were put to death.
The situation was made worse when Guilford's brother, a military officer, returned from France and brought a plague with him that he passed on to his men and officers. Massive numbers of British soldiers perished from the disease, which later spread throughout the nation and claimed thousands of lives.
Robert, Earl of Leicester, the third son of John Dudley and a favorite of Elizabeth I, made the wise choice to depart from England and journey to the New World. His more fortunate descendant, William, would choose to make Guilford, Connecticut his home. Abel, Barzellia, and Gideon, three of William's offspring, would later buy a piece of land in Cornwall Township.
The Dudley family was clearly at the center of dark happenings in England and France. But it's been questioned whether or not the alleged curse accompanied them to America. The topic has been brought up since William Dudley was not Robert, Earl of Leicester's son, which would have required the curse to have been carried down in order to explain the haunting of Dudleytown. Only two sons, one of whom passed away while still a child, were born to Robert Dudley.
The other moved to Italy, where he gave birth to children who all stayed. This demonstrates that there is no connection between William, his sons, and the purported curse and the founding of Dudleytown. The fact that Dudleytown was never cursed may have been proved, but it doesn't mean it was not tainted in some other manner. There are numerous locations across the nation where strange things take place, and the landscape does not appear quite right.
Records reveal that the area near Dudleytown was formerly home to a Mohawk Indian tribe, but they don't reveal much else about the area before the arrival of the first immigrants. Over time, this area has developed a terrifying reputation. Could the bizarre occurrences and disappearances reported here have some connection to the past, or are they just the result of coincidence and the author's imagination?
The previously mentioned Thomas Griffiths purchased a plot of property in the early 1740s that would eventually be regarded as the first lot in Dudleytown. The landscape still resembles how it did when Griffiths first arrived. It has a dense canopy of trees and is covered in rocks. The region receives minimal sunshine because of the shadow cast by the adjacent mountains. The fairly sinister name "Dark Entry Forest" was later given to the woodlands.
Griffith sold some land to Gideon Dudley in 1747 so he could start a little farm. Barzillia and Abel Dudley, Gideon's two brothers from Guilford, Connecticut, had bought land nearby by 1753. A different Martin Dudley from Massachusetts, who was from a different line of the family, migrated to the region a few years later. Later he wed the daughter of Gideon. It's important to note that Dudleytown has never existed as a town.
It was located in a more remote area of Cornwall. The settlement was situated in the middle of three sizable hills, which explains why it was virtually dark when noontime rolled around. The boulders that were used to create the foundations and stone walls that still stand today show that the Cornwall township was never a favorable place for farming. Despite this, a small number of settlers started to arrive.
Here, the Tanner family, the Jones family, the Patterson family, the Dibble family, and the Porter family all settled. After iron ore was found nearby, the town expanded even more, and farming lost importance. However, Dudleytown has never had any shops, businesses, schools, or churches.
Provisions had to be bought in neighboring towns, and when someone passed away, a trip to Cornwall was required because the town lacked both a church and a cemetery. Dudleytown never had a sizable population, and a map from 1854 shows that the peak population was only 26 families. Despite these issues, the community did prosper for a while.
An important resource for the surrounding Litchfield County iron furnaces at Cornwall and other nearby communities, Dudleytown's timber was burned to produce wood coal. Although the lumber was no longer required, the furnaces were moved closer to the railroads and the major industrial towns. For a while the area's iron ore was used, and Dudleytown also housed three mills powered by water. Due to the lengthy journey required to bring commodities down the mountain, the majority of the mills finally shut down.
However, despite the appearance of prosperity, there were unusual deaths and strange events at Dudleytown from the beginning. Some historians have made an effort to minimize the extraordinary occurrences of recent years.
They will try to disprove the town's urban legends by first pointing out how few people have ever lived there, and then downplaying the disappearances, cases of insanity, and strange deaths as though they occur frequently. And perhaps they do. But why are there so many strange occurrences in such a remote location with so few residents?
In a larger town, the number of deaths that have occurred here would not be as significant. But in this small hamlet, one is left to question just what was going on. In addition to those who are mentioned here, there are an excessive number of people who went insane. In this area, as well as those who just disappeared. It's understandable that a rumor of a Dudleytown curse began, whether it was true or not.
Three of the Dudleys left the area, lived long and fulfilling lives, and passed away from natural causes, eliminating any chance of a curse for all time. Only Abel Dudley was left in town, and he eventually lost both his mind and his whole fortune due to a series of setbacks. The town acquired Abel's property, sold it, and then made him a ward of the community after he passed away in 1799 at the age of 90 and was no longer able to pay his debts.
Abel was beginning to become senile and insane, but he wouldn't be the last person to experience this condition. Seven years before Abel Dudley passed away in 1792, Gershon Hollister, a close friend and neighbor, was killed while constructing a barn at the residence of William Tanner, Abel's nearest neighbor. Tanner was also believed to have lost his mind, albeit this time it was probably due to old age and senility rather than supernatural forces.
He lived to be 104 years old and was reportedly slightly demented when he passed away. There are rumors that Tanner informed nearby communities about the strange creatures that emerge from the woods at night. If this is the case, there is no way for us to determine whether Tanner's limited mind created these creatures or whether they were the result of the inexplicable.
In 1759, the Nathaniel Carter family relocated to Dudleytown and set up residence in a home that had originally belonged to Abel Dudley, before the latter was appointed a town ward. The O'Donohue-Ribb Carter family, who were Nathaniel's cousins, perished in a mystery plague that spread over Dudleytown and Cornwall. Devastated by their loss, they relocated from Dudleytown to Binghampton, New York in 1763.
The cursed believers claimed that the stench of Dudleytown followed them, but in reality, their awful fate was all too normal in the early days of the frontier. When the Carter family moved to the Delaware wilderness, which was in the middle of Indian country, Indians attacked and killed Nathaniel, his wife and young kid. The Carters' remaining three children were kidnapped and sent to Canada, where two daughters were exchanged for ransom.
David Carter, the son, stayed with his captors, wed an Indian woman, and subsequently came back to the United States to finish his schooling. He then worked as a newspaper editor and a Supreme Court Justice.
One of the most well-known locals, General Herman Swift, who fought for George Washington in the Revolutionary War, was the victim of another unusual tragedy. His wife, Sarah Fay, was hit by lightning in 1804 while she stood on the porch of their house close to Dudleytown. She died immediately. After going insane, the General passed away as well.
Many people have brushed off this episode as being unrelated to the other strange occurrences, claiming that Swift didn't truly reside in Dudleytown, but rather on Bald Mountain Road, where his house still stands today, and that he only went crazy as he aged and grew senile.
However, the records showed that three people in this thinly populated area had gone insane in less than 50 years. Could this be a coincidence? Does being struck by lightning while a person is standing on their front porch count as unusual? According to the Cursed Stories, Horace Greeley, the editor and founder of the New York Tribune, was another renowned figure reportedly tied to Dudleytown. In this instance, the story merits being refuted.
Greeley wed Mary Young Chaney, a young lady who, according to the cursed legend, was born in Dudleytown. In reality, Mary had never lived in Dudleytown. She was born and raised in the nearby town of Litchfield. As early as 1833, she moved out of the region and moved into a vegetarian boarding home run by Dr. Graham of Graham Cracker, where she was involved in the vogue wellness movement of the day. She met Horace Greeley there, whom she later wed.
Greeley unsuccessfully challenged Ulysses S. Grant for the presidency of 1872. Shortly before that, Mary experienced a lung disease episode and passed away. With her husband and two daughters, Ida and Gabriel, present, she passed away in New York City. In Greenwood Cemetery, she was laid to rest. She didn't commit suicide despite what the stories say.
One month after the election, Greeley passed away, and his electoral votes were distributed to unimportant candidates. After the Civil War, Dudleytown began to decline, and many of the locals just packed their belongings and left. Whether you believe in the curse or not, the destruction of the town itself shouldn't come as a surprise. It was at best foolish to locate it there.
There was little hope that a productive crop would ever grow and support life in the town because it was surrounded by hills and located at an elevation of more than 1,500 feet. Even the hardy apple trees suffered from months of cold weather due to the harsh winters in this area. The soil was rough and there was almost too much water in the area. It accumulated into chilly bogs and soaked into the ground, producing a soggy mess.
The sheer number of strange deaths and mental conditions in such a remote area more than suggests that something unusual was happening in the small town, even if you dismiss the idea of a real curse and acknowledge that the town's location must have played a role in its demise. And despite the debunkers' best efforts, the following enigmatic incident in Dudleytown cannot be ignored. When this incident took place in 1901, Dudleytown's population had almost completely vanished.
John Patrick Brophy was one of the town's final inhabitants. Tragic events struck hard and quickly. First, his wife passed away from consumption. A condition that wasn't unusual in those days, and wasn't especially unusual, given that she had been afflicted by it for years. Brophy's anguish was not lessened by this, though, and he was soon left even more distraught when, soon after the funeral, his two children disappeared into the wilderness.
Furthermore, there is little evidence to suggest that their abduction was voluntarily, even if it was possible given that they were charged with stealing sleigh blankets and relatively minor crimes. They disappeared and were never discovered. The Brophy's home was destroyed by a mysterious fire shortly after, and Brophy himself disappeared into the forest. He vanished without a trace. Early in the 20th century, Dudleytown was completely abandoned.
The surviving residences started to deteriorate and go into ruin, and soon the village that had been carved out of the forest started to reclaim itself. The curse may not be real, but it does add one more case of madness to an isolated area that was already rife with them. However, there was one more death that supporters of the curse have linked to Dudleytown. Dr. William Clarke
who arrived in Cornwall around 1900 and immediately fell in love with the forest and the peaceful rural life. Clark was raised on a farm in Tenafly, New Jersey, where he was born in 1877. He later rose to the position of professor of surgery at Columbia College of Physicians and Surgeons and developed a reputation as New York's top cancer specialist.
In the Connecticut wilderness, where Dudleytown was part of the 1,000 acres he bought, he started building a summer and holiday home. He and his wife, Harriet Bank Clark, visited the house throughout the years that followed on the weekends and in the summer until it was finished. After that, it was primarily used as a vacation home for weekend getaways in the summer and for Thanksgiving. They coexisted in peace in the vicinity of Dudleytown until 1918.
Dr. Clark was summoned to New York for an emergency one summer weekend. His wife stayed behind, and when he returned a few days later, she was alleged to have gone mad. Sources said something from the forest attacked her and left her completely insane. She lived out the remainder of her days in a mental hospital. Despite being certainly devastated by his wife's suicide, Dr. Clark kept up his residence in Dudleytown and continued to live there.
He remarried a few years later and moved back into his summer home, until a bigger house was built close by in 1930. He and his wife, Corita, founded the Dark Entry Forest Association in 1924, along with other physicians, friends, and interested landowners. In order to ensure that the area around Dudleytown would stay forever wild, it was intended to function as a forest preserve.
With 41 members, they had their first meeting in 1926. In February 1943, Dr. Clark passed away at Cornwall Bridge, and Corita died five years later. Many of their offspring and relatives still live in the neighborhood. Except for tourists and curiosity seekers who come for the thrills, Dudleytown is largely abandoned today. The majority of the area that the settlement previously occupied is still owned by the Dark Forest Entry Association.
The nearest occupants live in a cluster of houses on Bald Mountain Road that are very far from the main roadways. According to what we know, the paranormal stories started to spread in the 1940s. Visitors to the village's ruins started mentioning weird occurrences and phantom apparitions in the woods around this period.
People who have been there, claimed to have taken ghostly photos, experienced tremendous panic, seen strange lights, sights and sounds, and even felt touched, pushed or scraped by phantom hands. It's known as a negative power spot by certain researchers, or the location where things enter this realm from the other side.
They claim that this could explain the weird occurrences in Dudleytown's past, including the unsettling reports, the strange creatures, and possibly even the spikes in mania and insanity. The location is frequently considered to be tainted in some way, as if the soil has somehow decayed or perhaps was sour from the beginning. However, I would definitely caution you that going to Dudleytown today could be dangerous, and not because of ghosts or demons.
It should be reminded that trespassing is prohibited on the land of the Dark Forest Entry Association. They made the announcement that hikers would no longer be permitted on the land in 1999. Despite this, many people continue to go, daring not only the spirits but also the police. Dudleytown's remains have unfortunately been vandalized, and the environment has suffered as a result of the frequent influx of trespassers.
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When four friends embark on a guy's trip to go ice fishing in the Alaskan wilderness, they expect adventure, but find horror instead. After strange events and gruesome gifts are left at the remote cabin, the men set out to find help, only to become hopelessly lost in the ominous forest as an unseen evil stalks them. Their friendships and sanity are pushed to the breaking point.
They had been walking through the woods for what felt like hours, and Eric was afraid they would never find their way back. The woods were so thick that the light of the moon couldn't even be seen through the trees.
Each of the boys had a flashlight in hand, using them to see where to step, while Gavin used his to light the way in front of them. The crickets had chirped loudly until they came across a fence with a "No Trespassing" sign. When the woods suddenly seemed to get quiet, it was as if the insects were waiting in suspense to see if the boys were actually dumb enough to cross the fence.
Gavin held it, spreading the barbed wire apart with his foot holding down the bottom, while he pulled the top piece up with his hand. Eric thought at first that this gesture seemed awful kind, but then he realized that Gavin was scared. He wasn't being kind at all. He didn't want to be the first to cross the fence. Once they had all crossed, Gavin followed, growling because no one had bothered to hold the fence for him.
Now that they were on the other side, the crickets began to chirp again. But they sounded distant, as if they were only on the other side. As they walked away, the sound of the crickets faded, and the forest became eerily quiet again. They immediately began to walk uphill, and Eric thought he heard movement in the forest around them. It sounded like something or someone was shuffling around out there. The sound followed them until they reached the top of the hill, where several old buildings came into sight.
The forest had finally given way to the moonlight, as it lit up the skeleton-like structures on the hillside. "This is it! It has to be!" Gavin proclaimed excitedly. "Now the fun begins!" Eric shivered as a chill ran up his spine. He had never believed the old stories about this place, but as he looked at the rickety structures, decaying and overgrown with plants in the moonlight, in that moment anything seemed possible.
It was obvious that the other boys were nervous now that they were there. Gavin, however, seemed to feed off of their fear. And when a crashing sound came from one of the houses, he laughed. "Sounds like the ghosts are excited that we're here. Maybe someone should go check it out." As he said this, he slowly turned towards Eric. "And I know exactly who needs to go." Eric sucked in a deep breath. He had known all along that this was coming. And he planned on facing it head on without any show of fear.
"I'll do it," he told the group of boys as he stepped forward. "What do you want me to do, Gavin?" he asked, expecting a set of conditions from the bully, who he knew wouldn't be happy with anything simple. "Well," Gavin pretended to ponder, as if he hadn't already thought this scenario out, "I think you should stay inside that house until sunrise. If you can do that, then we will all know that you have the balls to be a part of this group."
Eric straightened his back and said a simple "Okay" and headed towards the front door. He never showed an ounce of fear, for which he was pretty proud of, but now he had to follow through. He stepped up onto the rotted porch as Gavin and his cowardly group watched him. He walked across it as the wood creaked and threatened to give way. He turned the doorknob and the door swung open. Eric stepped inside. And as he did, a feeling of peace and comfort came over him.
It reminded him of the feeling he had got when the dentist gave him nitrous oxide before removing an abscessed tooth when he was 12. He was only a few feet inside the dark room when the door slammed shut behind him. He didn't even jump. He was swimming in a euphoric feeling that made everything around him almost funny. The rotted curtains were swaying as a breeze snuck into the room from some unknown opening in the rotted walls.
He could see the furnishings that still cluttered the room, an old Victorian couch with some rips in the upholstery, a hurricane lamp that had fallen over and busted, and an oriental rug that was covered in leaves and dirt. Eric could hear laughter begin to fill the air, and the dark corners of the room began to lighten as if the sun had risen. Everything around him began to come to life as the decay faded, and the room was bathed in warmth.
But then, the laughter turned to screams of pain and terror. He looked around the room, and everything began to darken and decay again. He began to panic and search for a way out. The door he had entered through seemed to have vanished and was void of any exit. He continued to spin around as he looked for any way out. He could hear screams of terror and pain somewhere beyond the walls. Then slowly, the sounds began to fade.
The spinning began to stop, and he found himself on the ground, outside on all fours. Eric retched and emptied his stomach onto the ground. He looked around. The sun was beginning to rise, and he could see the bodies of Gavin and his friends strewn all around the yard in front of the old decaying house. Dudleytown was definitely cursed. Or in Eric's situation, maybe it was blessed.
I guess it's a matter of opinion. Thank you for joining us to explore Dudleytown. Tune in next week as we discuss another terrorific destination. I'm Carmen Carrion. Remember, you can send me suggestions and stories of haunted places to my email, carmencarrion at gmail.com or follow me on Twitter at Carmen Carrion. Be sure to check out eeriecast.com for more terrifying podcasts.
Until next time, be safe out there, until I see you at our next destination.
