Episode 1: The Fortune Teller
It was a quiet night in the small town of Muswell Hill, the kind of night when everyone was tucked away safely in their homes, the streets were abandoned and the air was still and silent. But one place in the town that wasn’t quiet was the old abandoned fairground, where a mysterious figure had taken up residence.
The figure was an old fortune teller called Madame Zarnya, who had been a fixture at the fairgrounds since before anyone could remember. She had a broken down cart she called her home, and she had a tent set up with a sign that said “The Fortune Teller”.
Every night she stood in her tent with her crystal ball, waiting for people to come and hear her fortune. But no one ever came.
One night, a young man named Michael walked past the fairgrounds, and was drawn in by the mysterious and eerie sight of the old fortune teller. He was curious to find out what she could tell him about his future, but he was also apprehensive about the mysterious woman.
Michael cautiously approached the tent and peered inside. Madame Zarnya looked up at him and smiled, her eyes twinkling like stars in the night sky.
“Welcome, young man! Come in, come in!” she said.
Michael stepped inside and sat down on one of the chairs in front of her.
“What can I do for you?” she asked him.
“I want to know my future,” Michael replied.
Madame Zarnya smiled knowingly, as if she already knew the answer. She reached out and grabbed Michael’s hand, staring intently into his eyes.
“Ah, I see something in you,” she said. “You have something special, an inner strength and resilience that will help you face any challenge that comes your way.”
Michael was taken aback by her words. He hadn’t expected such a positive assessment of himself. He looked into her eyes and thanked her.
“But be warned,” she continued. “Your strength may not be enough to save you from a great danger that lies ahead.”
Michael felt a chill run down his spine. He asked her what the danger was, but she only smiled and shook her head.
“I can’t tell you that,” she said. “It’s up to you to discover the truth. But be careful, for whatever it is, it is powerful and dangerous.”
Michael thanked her for the warning and stood up to leave. He took one last look at the mysterious old fortune teller, before turning and walking away.
He had almost reached the entrance to the fairgrounds when he heard a voice call out to him.
It was Madame Zarnya. She was running after him, her face full of urgency.
“Michael!” she said, panting. “I forgot to tell you something very important.”
Michael stopped and waited for her to catch up.
“You must remember,” she said, her voice trembling. “No matter what happens, never give up. You must fight to the very end.”
Michael thanked her and then watched as she walked back to her tent. He was left feeling both intrigued and unnerved by the old fortune teller’s words, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something dark and sinister was about to unfold.
The next morning, as Michael was walking to school, he felt a shiver run down his spine. He turned to see two men in dark suits watching him from a distance. They followed him for the rest of the way to school, and that night he saw them again, lurking near his house.
Michael wanted to confront them, but he was too scared. He tried to ignore them and continued on his way, but they kept watching him. He had no idea who they were or what they wanted, but it was clear that they were connected in some way to the mysterious fortune teller.
That night, as Michael was lying in his bed unable to sleep, he heard a voice coming from outside. It was Madame Zarnya.
“Don’t give up, Michael!” she called out. “You must fight to the very end!”
The next morning, Michael awoke to find the two men gone. He was relieved, but he still had no idea what was happening. He decided to go and speak to Madame Zarnya and discover the truth.
When he arrived at the fairgrounds, he saw a large crowd gathered around the tent of the fortune teller. When the crowd parted, Michael saw that Madame Zarnya was lying on the ground, dead.
Michael was shocked by the news, but he noticed something strange. There was a faint smile on the old woman’s face. He knew then that she had died doing what she loved—telling fortunes.
Michael left the fairgrounds that night feeling confused and scared. He had no idea what was going on, but he knew that whatever it was, it had something to do with Madame Zarnya’s warning about a great danger.
That night, Michael had a vivid dream. He was in a dark forest, surrounded by strange creatures and sounds. He saw a huge castle in the distance, and he knew that he had to go there.
The next morning, Michael took a train to a small village outside of the city. That night, he made his way to the castle and discovered that it was an ancient temple filled with secrets and mystery. Inside was a giant crystal ball, and when Michael looked into it, he saw a vision of his future.
He saw himself facing off against a powerful and dangerous foe. He saw himself fighting with all his strength and courage, despite the great odds against him. He saw himself making one final stand against the darkness, with the help of a mysterious figure—Madame Zarnya.
The vision ended and Michael awoke with a start. He knew that his journey was just beginning, and he was ready to take on whatever dangers lay ahead. He thought of Madame Zarnya’s words—No matter what happens, never give up. You must fight to the very end.
He took a deep breath, and started on his way.
Episode 2: The Collector
John Drake was a collector of the strange and unusual. He had been collecting artifacts and objects of mystique since he was a boy, gathering his finds throughout his life from all around the world. Now, in his twilight years, John lived alone in a large, rambling old house with his extensive collection.
It was on a cold, stormy night that John was awoken by a loud knock on his door. He stumbled downstairs, shaking off the remnants of sleep and peering out of the window to discover a small, hooded figure on his doorstep. John opened the door a crack, and the hooded figure stepped inside uninvited.
John was struck by the figure’s appearance. He seemed to be an old man, but also something else. The eyes were sharp and intense, like those of an animal stalking its prey, and the figure seemed to move with a certain grace and agility, like an untamed beast.
The figure spoke in a low, rasping voice. “I am a collector,” he said. “I have come to collect something of great value from you.” He paused and surveyed the room. “Do you possess something of unique beauty that would be of great interest to me?”
John was flummoxed. He had collected many valuable objects throughout his life, but he had never considered them to be of great value. He was about to refuse the stranger when his gaze fell upon a small wooden box sitting atop a shelf. It had been a gift from his father before he passed away, and it had been handed down through the generations, never opened, its contents unknown.
John took the box down from the shelf and handed it to the hooded figure. The figure opened the box and a single tear trickled down his cheek. He nodded in approval and slowly closed the box. “This is the one,” he said.
John was confused. What was in the box that was so important? Before he could ask, the hooded figure had already left, disappearing into the night as quickly as he had appeared.
John was left alone with his questions, but he soon forgot about the strange encounter as he returned to his life. Weeks passed, and then one day a package arrived at his door. Inside was a small book with the words “The Collector” inscribed on the cover.
He opened the book and read the words written within. It told the story of a collector who had traveled the world in search of objects of great value, finding them in places few would ever set foot. It was the story of the hooded figure, and the contents of the box he had taken.
John read on, entranced, until he reached the end of the story. It revealed the contents of the box to be something of great value and beauty – something that only a collector of the strange and unusual could possess.
John understood now why the hooded figure had been so interested in his collection. But he also knew that it would be impossible for him to ever possess something so unique and precious. He was no longer a collector, and he would never possess something of such great value himself.
John put the book down and looked around at the collection he had been so proud of. He could still appreciate its beauty, but he knew that he could never truly possess what the hooded figure had taken away that night.
The Collector was a story of a man whose life was dedicated to collection, and one final lesson in what it truly means to possess something of great value. He had learnt that it was not the objects themselves that were of great importance, but rather the beauty and knowledge that they could give.
And so, John continued to live his life, content in the knowledge that something of great beauty could still be found, even if it was no longer within his reach.
Episode 3: The Night Gallery, Episode 14 : Portal to Evil
By Simon Stimson
Samantha sighed as she pushed against the damp, yellowed wall, trying in vain to find an opening. She had been walking for what seemed like days, exploring the crumbling hallways of the abandoned mansion. Nothing but darkness and dead ends, the way forward was elusive.
On the surface, the building was an unremarkable Victorian residence, with a typical layout of mismatched rooms that had been added and subtracted over the decades since its construction. But, deeper within, there were strange corners and passages that seemed to lead to nowhere, doors that were impossible to open, and windows that looked out onto some other strange realm.
Samantha had unknowingly stumbled into one such chamber, an oddity hidden away in the forgotten recesses of the building. She knew that she was in the presence of something powerful and ancient, something that was meant to stay hidden from the living world.
The walls of the room seemed to be crafted from a strange stone that glowed with an eerie yellow light. A heavy, ornate door with skull-shaped carvings stood in the center of the room. The door was locked, of course, and no matter how hard she pushed, the stone wouldn’t budge.
Samantha had all but given up when, suddenly, she noticed a small, triangular inscription in the stone. She squinted and peered closely at the odd runes, inching closer until her nose was almost touching the wall.
The inscription said, “Those who seek the portal will be granted entry.”
At first, Samantha was baffled by the words, but then it hit her: the door was, in fact, a portal of sorts. It had been built, ages ago, to keep something inside, something so powerful and dark that it had to be sealed away for all time.
Samantha took a few steps back and studied the door’s carvings. She realized that there was a pattern that repeated itself endlessly, a pattern that looked almost like a key. She touched the stone and suddenly a loud rumble filled the chamber, as if a giant beast was awakening from a deep sleep.
Samantha gasped as the door began to slowly swing open, revealing an ancient chamber beyond. She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what awaited her on the other side. But, she steeled her courage, and stepped into the darkness.
The chamber was lit with a deep purple light, and it seemed to stretch out forever. In the center, an altar of black marble stood, and on it, a book with a cover of deepest black.
Samantha approached the book cautiously, studying its strange binding and the weird symbols that adorned its pages. She opened the book and began to read, and soon it became clear that this was an ancient tome that contained secrets of some unknown power.
Samantha turned the pages, her eyes widening as she realized that the secrets contained within the book were far darker and more powerful than she had ever imagined. It contained information about a portal between worlds, a portal that had been sealed away for millennia.
Suddenly, Samantha heard a sound from behind her. She spun around to see an ethereal figure standing in the doorway. It was a woman, tall and stately with long, dark hair and a pale, ghostly face.
The woman spoke in a voice that seemed to come from the beyond. “You have accessed that which should remain hidden. I am here to protect this portal and its secrets.”
Samantha stepped back, her heart pounding in her chest. The woman advanced, her gaze focused solely on the book.
“Leave this place,” the woman commanded, “and never return.”
Samantha did not move. She knew deep down that she had to stay.
“Very well,” the woman said with a sigh. “You may stay, but you must promise not to try and open the portal. Its power is too great, and it must remain sealed forever.”
Samantha nodded, and the woman disappeared into the darkness. Samantha looked around the chamber and realized that the woman had left her with a great gift. She had been granted access to a power beyond her comprehension.
Samantha turned her attention back to the book, and soon realized that the answers she was searching for lay in the pages of this mysterious tome. She began to read, and slowly the secrets of the portal began to unfold.
The power of the portal could be used for great good, or great evil. But, Samantha knew that if the portal were ever opened, it could cause untold destruction. She swore to keep the secret safe, and protect the portal at all costs.
Just then, she heard a loud rumbling noise and looked up to see that the door to the chamber had begun to close. Samantha quickly grabbed the book and sprinted out into the hallway, the door slamming shut just behind her.
Samantha raced back through the winding corridors, her heart pounding in her chest. She had narrowly escaped what could have been her doom. But, she had also unlocked a secret that she was not sure was meant to be shared with the world.
Samantha emerged from the mansion, the book tucked safely in her bag. She was determined to protect the portal and its secrets, no matter the cost.
The sun was just beginning to rise and Samantha watched as its golden rays spread across the horizon. She had unlocked the mystery of the portal, but the path ahead was uncertain. Wherever it may lead, it was sure to be a journey full of twists and turns, one that could end both in victory and tragedy.
Episode 4: The Pilot of The Lonely
It was one of those nights when the world seemed to press in upon itself, standing still along the periphery of the night. The sky was all black velvet, the stars were tiny pinpricks of light, and the moonless shadows crept around the corners of the night. In the silence of the darkness, the world felt like a place of infinite possibilities and limitless imagination.
But on this night, those possibilities were not so limitless, as the lonely figure of a man trudged through the darkness. He had no destination, no purpose, no point of reference for his journey. He just trudged on, a man in search of something that he could not yet name.
The man was on an airplane, but he was not quite sure where he was flying. The plane had left from an unknown airport and flew for hours in complete darkness. He had no idea where he had come from, or where he was headed, but he felt strangely compelled to stay in his seat and keep staring out the window.
The man had no idea what he was looking for, but he could not shake the feeling that he was getting ever closer to something. As the plane flew on, the stars began to twinkle more brightly, as if they were trying to tell him something. Then, in the far distance, he spotted a small island.
The man was now certain that this island was his destination. As the plane descended towards the island, he could make out more details; the ocean was a deep, dark blue, the sand was white like snow, and the trees on the island were lush and green.
The plane landed on a small airstrip on the island and the man disembarked, feeling oddly relieved. He was certain now that he had found the place he had been searching for. He made his way down to the beach and sat down in the sand, looking out at the ocean.
As he watched, the sky began to lighten and the sun appeared on the horizon. The sun’s light shone down on the island and revealed, to the man’s amazement, an old wooden sailboat. The boat was weathered and worn, but it seemed that it had been there for many years, waiting for the man to come.
The man boarded the boat and set sail. He had no idea where the boat would take him, but he had a strange feeling that he was getting closer to his destiny. After a few hours, the boat arrived at a small harbor and the man stepped onto the dock.
He followed a path that led him to what appeared to be a small, abandoned village. He was bewildered by the sight before him. Everywhere he looked, he saw evidence of a life that had once existed here.
The man set out to explore the village. He walked down the deserted streets and peered into the dark windows of the old houses. After a few hours, he stumbled upon a large mansion at the center of the village.
The man stepped up to the door and knocked. After a few moments, the door slowly creaked open and an elderly man appeared. The man saw that the old man was wearing a pilot’s uniform and he immediately knew who he was.
The old man introduced himself as the pilot of the lonely plane, and told the man that he had been waiting for him. He said that he had been tasked with finding someone with the courage and imagination to embark on a special mission.
The old man explained that the plane had been sent to find a person who could save the world from a mysterious force of darkness that was threatening to consume it. He said that the plane had searched for days, and finally found the man on that island.
The man felt a sudden wave of excitement course through his veins. He had finally found the destiny he had been seeking, and was now ready to accept the challenge. With a final nod from the old man, the man boarded the plane, and the pilot began to prepare for takeoff.
The plane flew for hours, until eventually it became obvious that the plane was descending towards a distant, unknown land. The plane circled the land, and the man looked out the window to see a dark and imposing fortress.
The plane suddenly stopped in midair, as if suspended by some unseen force. A voice boomed in the man’s head, telling him that this was the place he had been sent to save. He felt a sudden wave of fear, but then the voice spoke again, reassuring him that he was the chosen one, and that he must trust his courage and imagination.
The plane finally touched down in a hidden hangar, and the man stepped out of the plane. He looked around and saw that he was in an underground fortress. He knew that he must find a way to save the world from the darkness, but the daunting task before him seemed overwhelming.
The man began to explore the fortress, seeking out the source of the darkness. He eventually came to a large chamber, and at the center of the chamber was a dark figure wearing a black cloak. The figure spoke, telling the man that he was the source of the darkness and that he must be stopped.
The figure began to move towards the man, but suddenly the man was surrounded by a bright light. A voice spoke from the light, telling the man that he was not alone. The light expanded, and the man saw a group of other people standing with him; they were people who the darkness had captured and enslaved.
The man realized that he was their only hope. He courageously stepped forward and faced the darkness. He used all his courage and imagination to defeat the darkness, and at last the world returned to the way it was before.
The man, the pilot, and all the slaves were returned to their homes, and the darkness was banished forever. The man later discovered that he was the chosen one, the only one who had the courage and imagination to save the world.
The man lived out his life, but his courage and imagination were never forgotten. They were passed from generation to generation, and became a part of the legacy of courage and imagination that lives on in all of us.
Episode 5: The Coffin Path
By Margaret Smith
A heavy fog had blanketed the countryside as Mrs. Maureen Carver had set out that morning, walking the winding dirt road that led to her home. She had been travelling for some time, and as she looked around, it seemed to her as if everything was just a little bit different – the trees a bit denser, the fog a bit thicker, and the road a bit longer than it had been before. She was sure she hadn’t taken a wrong turn, but she couldn’t be certain.
After some time, Mrs. Carver came to a clearing in the road that revealed a small graveyard. At first, she paid it no mind, but as she walked closer, she noticed something strange in the cemetery – an old, weathered, wooden coffin that seemed to be lying in the very center of the graveyard.
The sight of it filled Mrs. Carver with dread, and though she wanted desperately to turn around, something compelled her onward, and soon she was standing at the foot of the coffin, trembling with fear. She tried to turn and run, but her feet would not move.
The lid of the coffin began to slowly creak open, and to Mrs. Carver’s horror, out of the coffin stepped a figure dressed entirely in black, its face hidden by a hooded cloak. Instinctively, Mrs. Carver stepped backward and the figure began to move toward her.
For a moment, Mrs. Carver considered turning and fleeing, but when she looked into the figure’s eyes, her entire body was overcome with terror. She knew she was being watched and followed by an unknown force.
Mrs. Carver’s terror subsided, however, when the figure suddenly spoke in a voice that was not human. “Follow the Coffin Path,” it said. Then, in an instant, the figure was gone, and Mrs. Carver was left alone in the graveyard, trembling with fear.
For what seemed like hours, Mrs. Carver stood in the graveyard, unsure of what to do. Eventually, she decided to heed the figure’s words and follow the Coffin Path. She set out, walking for miles in the fog-shrouded countryside.
As Mrs. Carver continued along the winding road, she noticed that the path was getting darker and darker and the fog was growing thicker and thicker. She was beginning to become lost and was about to turn around and go back, when suddenly the road opened up to reveal a dark and decrepit castle.
Mrs. Carver walked through the castle’s gates and soon found herself standing in an ancient courtyard, surrounded by statues of hooded figures. As she looked around, she noticed that each of the statues was facing a different direction, as if they were all pointing to something.
She looked down and found a trail of candles leading up the castle’s winding staircase. She followed the candles up the stairs, and as she did, her steps grew heavy and she felt an overwhelming sense of dread.
When Mrs. Carver reached the top of the stairs, she found herself standing in front of a coffin. It was the same coffin she had seen in the graveyard. Slowly and cautiously, she opened the lid, and to her horror, inside the coffin was a pale and lifeless body.
The body was wearing a black cloak, just like the one the hooded figure had been wearing. Mrs. Carver realized with dread that the figure she had seen in the graveyard was, in fact, an undead being, and she had followed it here, to the very top of the castle.
With a trembling hand, Mrs. Carver reached into the coffin and pulled out a piece of parchment that was laying by the corpse’s side. On it was written a single word – “Regress”.
Mrs. Carver had no idea why she was supposed to regress, but something inside her was pulling her back down the stairs and out of the castle. She had no choice but to obey, and so she followed the trail of candles all the way back out of the castle, and back onto the Coffin Path.
Mrs. Carver followed the winding road for what seemed like hours, until finally she emerged from the fog and found herself standing in the exact same spot she had been in before – the clearing in the road revealing a small graveyard.
And there, in the center of the graveyard, was the same old wooden coffin. Mrs. Carver realized with horror that she had been walking in circles, and that the coffin had been her destination all along.
Mrs. Carver walked up to the coffin and opened it. Inside, she found a message – “You understand now, don’t you? All will be revealed in time.” Mrs. Carver’s last thought before slipping into unconsciousness was that she had finally found the answers she was seeking.
The Coffin Path is an open ending with a twisty, quirky and imaginative novel. Mrs. Carver is left with more questions than she had before, but it is implied she has learned something significant. The story leaves the reader with a sense of mystery and a sense of curiosity, just as the anthology series “Night Gallery” is known to do.
Episode 6: The Name of the Novel: The Final Curtain
Part One: Interlude
“So, you want to hear my story?”
The old man smiled wryly, his wrinkled face creasing into deep furrows as he let out a long sigh. He adjusted himself in his wheelchair, his faded bathrobe draped over his slender frame like an ancient flag, as if to shield him from the rest of the world.
For a moment, the old man just stared out into nothingness, as if lost in a thought. Then he turned back, his eyes glinting with a far-off spark, a distant fire flickering beneath the years of weariness and despair.
“Very well, then. I will tell you my story. It began a long time ago, back when the world was still young and I was just a child…
Part Two: A Long Time Ago
Once upon a time, in a far away land, there lived a family of four—a father, a mother, and two children—in a modest home tucked away in a small village.
The father was a gifted painter, and his works won much admiration among the locals. His remarkable talent was the only source of income and sustenance for the family, and thus the family lived a humble but content life.
But one day, tragedy struck. The father contracted a deadly illness, and before long he was claimed by the tireless march of death.
The family was grief-stricken and the mother was plunged into a deep depression. Fortunately, the two children—a brother and a sister—were able to take care of themselves and each other, determined to somehow make it through the tragedy and move on with their lives.
Part Three: The Final Curtain
Years passed and the two children grew up. The brother, ever the talented artist, became a well-known painter in the region and began to make a name for himself.
Meanwhile, the sister, who was less interested in the artistic pursuits of her brother, discovered a mysterious old book in the back of her father’s studio. Intrigued, she began to read the book and soon discovered that it was the diary of her late father.
The diary told a strange and perplexing tale—of a cursed painting, a secret curse, and a dark ritual to be performed at the stroke of midnight on a certain night every year—the night of the final curtain.
The more she read, the more disturbed the sister became. Despite her brother’s warnings, she traveled to the abandoned theatre where the cursed painting hung. There, on the night of the final curtain, she performed the ritual—and summoned the dead.
Part Four: Resolution
The dead rose and the sister was filled with dread. But just before the dark force could take possession of her soul, the brother rushed in and performed a magical ritual of his own, one fueled by the power of love and light.
The ritual worked and the ancient curse was broken. With the sun rising in the east and the stars fading in the sky, the brother and sister embraced and watched as the final curtain fell once more, this time for good.
And so, my story ends. But I wonder—was it really my story to tell? Did the dead really walk that night, or was it simply a vivid dream? Did I really break the ancient curse, or was it just a hopeful wish?
I may never know the answers. I may never understand what really happened that night. But I do know this—that the brother and sister were able to find strength in each other and move on with their lives. And they live happily ever after.