The Knife Of Sacrifice by The Witch’s Tale

Oh! Restore it!

Restore it!

That's what I do to you!

Do it now, Charlie!

Turn them out!

You leave me!

Come in, don't you!

I must remember!

You are not nervous!

I think it's not!

No, it's not!

We are meant to call from one of the past stories that scream and hear it.

Tales of mystery and terror by Radio's masters of the McCartle.

The story where it's supernatural, it's super normal,

dramatized right back by the mystery of the unknown.

We tell you that's right, right?

Girl, if you wish to avoid the excitement,

I can't wait to see you next time.

Baby, we forgive you.

I'll leave you.

See you next time.

Welcome back to The Horror.

Thanks for joining me once again.

We're going to hear from the witches tale this week.

A series that debuted in May of 1931,

aired until June of 1938.

Over 300 episodes were produced for the mutual broadcasting system.

Our story today was first heard August 27th of 1935.

If I believe this is a later Australian production of the series,

the title, The Knife of Sacrifice.

The Witch of Hell.

The fascination of the eerie.

Weird bloodshilling tales told by old Nancy, the witch of Salem,

and Satan her wise black cat.

They're waiting, waiting for you now.

Hey, Ralph, we're all going to get out of town.

We're going to get going, don't we?

Where is it?

No!

We are folks up for another of our pretty little design stories.

Well, now, if we wonder, that's how they're likely to be getting down to business.

That makes it nice and dark and cheerful.

We once grew and shared as a beautiful young.

Now draw us to the fire and raise in the wind.

Going into one deep, consuming inside the house, way down in Mexico.

Mexico wants a bunch of Indians.

They all dig now, don't know.

It's thick, the day is cold, but...

Sometimes, a day doesn't match a line.

Now, the green's our story about the nice protector fight.

The lines of sacrifice!

I'm Jesus Degen, just another robber busy there.

Well, certainly the champions tonight, Mr. Raya.

Your deal.

You and I are taking for a ride this time, Pete.

I doubt it.

I can't keep my mind on cards while that mosquito out there keeps up its rotten fiddling.

Isn't he ever going to stop?

You're not still objecting because my Lord Jesus has had an A.

He's beloved in this gorgeous moonlight.

If he puts that scrapbook of ours in good humor,

I see I hope he keeps it up all night.

So do I.

Then perhaps you'll think of something else to feed his society,

so it's kill isn't he, jolly?

It's kill is, for jolly.

And don't forget the untiladass.

If I ever get out of it in the final country,

I hope never to taste these smell or hear anything Mexican again as long as I live.

I'd better master my gentleman who is Christian Pedro, Jose Marie Morales.

Just became to the getlins, Pete, you certainly acquired a grudge against the land of your ancestors.

Oh, check that, will you?

You know the only thing Mexican about me is my name and my look.

I can't even speak the language of the blessed country.

I wish you and your wife would lay off about my art, freed ancestry.

You hear that, Julius?

Pete would have us forget it on the maternal side,

he's a direct descendant of the emperor, Montess Humor.

All right, Pete.

I promise never again to mention that you resemble an estate king,

and that I give anything to see your brown beauty draped in a feathered token headdress.

I got the car door filled, picked them off.

I'll have some play anymore.

Bridginess tumbled down, though, be shakting.

It's more out of place than ever tonight.

You didn't expect with cars in accommodation or an archeological expedition in the wilderness,

I hope.

Pete is down in the dunes tonight.

Police is soon refined what we came here to look for.

On seven, I see you feel fine again.

You and we've found what we came here to look for.

I won't feel anything.

I'll be dead.

Oh, snap out of it.

How can you be so discouraging when this morning we found the proof

that we're searching in the right spot,

that up to the unnipe part of that prove?

Except that some Aztec lost it here four or five hundred years ago, but Pete.

Dr. Meyer and I have explained that it's a sacred knife.

A knife of sacrifice used only by high peace.

Such things won't kill us in lust.

Any more than the all the vessels of the Christian church would be.

I should say not.

It was very hidden in the ground once by this time.

Not just.

You know it's a clue to what they're all speaking.

It's only a question of time now before you and Carl

and Dr. Meyer find the treasure.

Oh, I know I'm acting like a bad sport unit.

But we've been digging in this God forsaken hole for nearly six months now.

And...

Oh, it's all right for Carl and Doc here.

They're scientists.

But I'm only a greedy engineer.

I want the gold that's supposed to be buried here.

And we haven't seen a glimmer of it.

We saw the hemidracal that mosquito found fewer gold it was.

And of the age of multitumas.

Oh, like fools.

We all jump to the conclusion that when Cortez sacked the city of Mexico,

some of the high priests buried some of the temple treasures somewhere around the Catalan.

History agrees that much of the city's wealth was hidden to keep it out of the Spanish head.

And this is certainly a reasonable spot to look for.

I know this is the place.

That's breathless juices.

And through the subvictuorizing cold deciphered.

Also, the geological structure in which we found that nice this morning,

that night which could only have belonged to the kind of high priest who would have hidden the treasures of the temple,

and took off the ancient associations of such a crash boy.

Even with the cut with the Mexican government will demand out of anything.

We'd be millionaires if you follow the right.

Gold.

Pure gold.

Millions and billions of dollars worth of it might be buried here.

The historical value.

Well, the beauty of it.

That's only what it means in American dollars that interest me.

May I see that nice again?

The one you found?

I certainly do.

You pass it over to your cousin.

All right.

Here, take it quick.

I don't like the hold of the thing.

It hasn't been very pleasant as though the ancient have it.

You say it's made of glass, Dr. Meyer?

Sure.

Or did you, in its world, tell it's glass?

There was dirty for use for human sacrifice of calm.

I've seen too many such knives to be endowed about it.

As human sacrifice was in every day a current year at the time of the Spanish conquest,

ceremonial daggers such as this were very common,

because in the aspects were perhaps the most bloodthirsty ever worshipping.

How was the knife used?

The victim of the sacrifice was laid plus straight on a weak green stone,

curved upwards in the middle to elevate the chest.

In the place plunged the knife in his breast and tore out the living heart.

You wonder, I don't want to be reminded that such people were my ancestors.

You know, I have a theory that when the treasure we're looking for was buried,

this knife was probably used to sacrifice a victim to the spirit of the earth,

or to the gods of hate and war, to gain their fever,

so they watched over it as it was.

I gave you that crazy idea.

It didn't crazy.

It's been the custom of all people.

Some of them were definitely a much less primitive religion than the Aztec.

And with the Aztec, anything or nothing was made an excuse for human sacrifice.

Put that knife away.

How do my sights...

Yes.

Have you read this to the two?

Here, Pete.

Put it in the door.

Oh, don't hand it to me.

I don't want to touch it again.

Oh, don't be such a booby.

All right.

Give it to me.

Funny.

When I hold it in my hand, I...

I seem to see the great green stone you spoke about.

Had a victim for the sacrifice, who?

Are you take a duck?

Take it out of my hand.

Put it out of sight.

Sure, Pete.

Sure.

What an earth is a matter with you tonight.

You haven't been yourself since you found that thing.

I'll go out and take a walk.

Maybe I'll snap out of it.

It's me, my boy.

I even go with you.

No, no.

I want to be alone.

I'm all right.

Oh, that's something Mexican out there is begun to play again.

He doesn't play over our killing.

You.

Now it'll stop accidentally.

Stop it.

I can't stop it.

Pete, you know he doesn't understand, he?

Are you on the canvas, fight me?

Stop it.

Stop it, John.

Oh, yeah.

It's you, it's not.

Oh, yeah.

Give me that, John.

Take your hands off.

Give me that, John.

Stop.

I thought it was.

Look at out of his hands.

No.

Don't.

Don't.

Don't.

Don't.

Don't.

All right, John.

Don't you know he's bullet-shitting?

It's not.

No, no.

It's not.

What does I do?

What does I do?

You try to kill a man of two, that's all.

I didn't.

I...

I didn't hurt him.

No.

Thanks to your rotten luck when you shipped off.

Thanks, John.

Or keep that gun, John.

Don't let me ever have it again.

Oh, what happened to you, Pete?

You suddenly became a...

A raiding lunacy.

I don't know.

Something suddenly...

I just wasn't myself any longer.

I was...

Oh, I don't know why.

I was good at shot as you call.

That man would be dead.

What happened to me?

What happened to me?

What happened to me?

Pete, pull yourself together.

What happened to me?

Tell me what happened to me?

I'm making you down in that chair.

I'll get him a drink.

What happened to me?

Quiet, old man.

I'm going to get a drink.

It's all right now.

No one is hurt.

And you'll never do such a crazy thing again.

But what made me think...

Never mind.

Yes.

We did this together.

And thanks.

I know what is wrong with you.

You've always been used to this city.

This choir here, these woods, these mountains.

They have been too different for you.

Yes.

I've seen this coming for a long time.

You've got to have a cane.

All of us have.

You'll see men work like pack animals all day.

And when night comes, the best thing we can think of to do is

to sit around and play bread.

We may play pinocles for a chain.

But we don't play at anything.

We all make work of everything we do.

Pete's doctors just now might have happened to any of us.

Carl was impossible to live with last week.

And before that, no one could speak to Dr. Myers.

And I?

Bella.

I want to scream sometimes.

We're all on the verge of a nervous blow-up.

You know this is right.

We've got to get out of our soul occasionally.

But what can we do alone at night?

It's this place Carl's room.

Look.

Or you must do something.

It'll be impossible to think seriously.

Something can't be.

Something.

Or I know what they're going to do.

What are you going?

I thought it's just a thing.

It's terribly infantile.

But we may have some fun with it.

And we can't take it seriously.

I found it.

What?

What's that?

A placet tape.

I flipped it in the front when we left the tape.

And I'd almost forgot my head.

But all going to use it to talk to the tape.

Don't do this.

You understand?

I thought it would be fantastic making a sacrifice to the tape.

So they'd guard their very patience.

Maybe those tapesters will tell us where it is.

The tape is on.

The pensions table is like a new job for a doctor.

Only it writes messages for the pensions.

But it's not a fun.

And a change.

Yes.

All you do is change around the tape.

I have a paper and pencil.

And put out all the length, Carl.

It's not blooty in the doctor.

All right.

Hey, you were just a pencil.

For such a lot of nonsense.

But you were sent to write ideas, Doc.

Notice this is what we need.

There.

Doc, because I can get it with all this moonlight screening.

Now, there is no place asking the people

writing it on the little table.

I'm holding it for you.

Can we ask it to get Scott to find the exit goal?

Make it well.

That's on all our minds.

Oh, so she's feeling it.

It's good of you to try and make me forget

I've almost murdered a man.

I'm grateful to you.

Oh, please, please.

We're going to play now.

All right.

I wondered if the spirit could tell us where the goal is.

Don't you dare take this thing seriously.

No.

Oh, of course not.

Mr. Cookie, though.

Taking him in the shadow is it the moonlight, mate?

How could you have thought that moonlight could take you on us?

It's a moon of blood.

Shining over a bloody land, mate.

Get out of it.

I'm trying to figure out what made me shoot at Manuel.

Maybe it's the blood of my murderous ancestors

who tore hearts from living bodies.

Maybe this land of theirs is making me

of that surprise.

You took like a fool.

Oh, stop talking all together.

And keep your mind on the question.

But time, we're doing this for fun.

You need a creep, mate.

Things like that.

It's dark and Roman.

I won't say anything more.

But it is a cringe moon.

I see shadows in the wall.

Stop it.

Where's the moon here?

This thing don't move.

Come on, Benchett.

Where do the Aztecs hide their career from?

The temples.

What you've got to do is take the spirits.

Like it.

Great spirits of the dead.

Give that bright secret.

Reveal to us the things that we should know.

Such a lot of nonquiet.

The thing is beginning to move your pushy.

I am not.

None of this.

It's the spirit.

The bronze hip is going fast.

Are you pushing?

Pete, are you?

Carl, look at Pete.

Pete, oh, man.

You're sitting in the down the shadow.

The shadow wasn't there before.

What makes it?

What makes these little tables move?

Pete.

What does he want, sir?

Pete is pushing the table.

I can see you.

Oh, that shadow, Carl.

It makes people go.

He had on a favorite cloak.

A favorite headdress.

He's those who wear a left pick.

Pete.

Why are you so still?

Oh.

Oh.

Something's wrong with you.

No.

Like those lamps.

Choking.

Someone heading by themselves.

Brooklyn.

Fighting with something that ain't here.

No.

I'll call the shadow.

The shadow in Indian and the feathered cloak.

It is going to be completely light.

Like those lamps.

Oh, yes, yes.

Don't.

Pete, calm as a dead man.

You're about to be breathing.

I'm glad you're all excited.

I got a lamp here.

Oh, is it?

Oh, he's only faded.

He's coming too now.

Pete.

Pete.

This man.

Blood of my hands.

That's the...

Carl.

Dark Pete.

What happened to you?

What?

I...

Now I know why I tried to shoot that man.

Something's trying to steal my body.

Something's trying to steal my body.

Pete rotten nonsense.

I do talking.

Oh, Carl.

Look at the paint sheet.

Rolled on this paper.

Dark.

It has a picture ID.

Pete wrote that.

I felt he pushed the ball chair.

Pete couldn't write it.

He doesn't know asked it.

But I know what it means.

It tells where to find the treasure.

The treasure got it by the dead.

Oh, why?

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I need this gameplay.

This is gameplay.

Pete, you messed it hard.

Pete !

I knew that what I wrote, that might could lead us to the treasure seat.

You could not make that picture ID.

Or, if I didn't make it too dead.

I don't know.

But I refused to believe that there was anything supernatural about your opinion, it's cloves.

and the action of that patient.

I'll have to see the picture actually uncovered.

Before I'll believe it is really the spot.

This is the spot.

I'm a knight on which that crosschefer revealed it

at two different times.

Something gained possession of me.

Body and soul.

It's just this photo, right?

Ain't we already found a few things in the upper layers?

I'm fixing.

In a minute, he's wet and I'm going to lay bare

until the entire pressure.

But I agree with Carl when he said,

oh, dear rest, he's crazy.

Well, have a good long way.

If the gold is here and I can get out of this

last-and-country alive with some of it,

I'll be satisfied.

What do you mean?

If you can get out alive, just what I say.

You believe that human sacrifice was made

to ensure the guardianship of the goodness of this treasure.

I believe another must be made

before those goodness will give it us all, Rock.

With the superstition you're talking lately,

I'm beginning to think

one of your Indian ancestors

has health set up house inside your brain.

Snap out of it.

In your ears.

In your ears.

He found something.

In your ears.

Quick, come on.

In your ears.

In your ears.

He found the treasure.

He found the treasure.

What is it?

What have you found?

Look.

Look, in your ears.

Look what they've uncovered Carl.

A human skeleton.

He's in your ears.

And it's lying upon a great green stone.

The stone that curves upwards to elevate the chest.

The stone where the priest lay his sacrifice

took care of the living heart.

There's nothing we can do with him, Yunus.

Since the men uncovered that green stone

and the skeleton,

he's absolutely convinced

that the only way we'll ever reach the gold

is by means of a human sacrifice to what he calls

its guardian spirit.

Some man's mad.

Mad is a much hair.

I wonder.

Is the only way

we'll ever reach the gold

is by means of a human sacrifice to what he calls

its guardian spirit.

Some man's mad.

Mad is a much hair.

I wonder.

Is the only way

we'll ever reach the gold

is by means of a human sacrifice to what he calls

its guardian spirit.

I wonder.

Is the only way

we'll ever reach the gold

is by means of a human sacrifice to what he calls

its guardian spirit.

How can you say that?

When you've seen the vault of Masonry at Covent,

inside that vault must be the temple treasures.

But you have been unable to penetrate that vault.

Because the priest did their work so well

that it's as strong as a mountain faith.

You have mud in two.

The thought that could force any mud in faith.

We've had accidents for our tools.

I've told you one on top of another.

Why do you Unfortunately,

do you already have?

Never fail to work before!

Why will they work now,

anywhere accepting on that vault?

Why do your tools break or lose errors?

Why?

If you're suggesting there's a supernatural reason,

count it right here and up against thatatha and Pete.

They've got all the work when believing it.

Failure to break open that vault

has been due to simple accident.

supernatural in the world. Yet, by the supernatural, he found where the vault was dead.

He lied to us. He moved that ten-ship table, and all the time he must have known the ancient

picture-writing. And the location of that vault, and the great green stone that covered it?

Oh, Carl, he'd never been in Mexico before. But if it was a spirit who guided his hand at night,

why should it have revealed the hiding place? Because it was flood-hungry perhaps.

Is that typical knife demands another victim?

Oh, Carl, I'd come to believe it's Peter, and remember, the spirit revealed that vault

through a descendant of the race which hid it, not through us, with ancestors destroyed that

race in this religion. If there's any truth in that funk,

Pete isn't in danger at all, as he thinks. No, but we are. Oh, Carl, I've gone afraid in the

last few days. I can't bear to look at the moon at night. It seems a moon of blood is Peter's

calling. If people worship the moon, they'll throw me with their other gods. A moon of blood,

shining over a land of blood. Let's go away from here, Carl. Let's go away.

Before we open that vault and find the treasure? Yes, it's not for white men.

You're talking nonsense. Tomorrow we'll have the new explosives, and then we'll see what's in that vault.

I've got to go and join Duff now, he's waiting for me. Is Pete with him?

I don't know, I haven't seen him since this morning. Yeah, where's that obsidian knife?

Did you put it away somewhere? I took it from the door last night and laid it on the table here.

I haven't seen it. Maybe Peter or Duff's in my eye.

Duff hasn't got it. He's asking about it this morning, and Peter's afraid to even touch the thing.

I'll look for you. Oh, don't bother now. I must run along. Be back in an hour or so.

Goodbye, yeah. Goodbye.

A moon of blood.

A land of blood.

A holy moon.

An avenging land.

Don't think. Or I never heard you come in you. You're talking to me.

Carl just went out the other door if you want to catch up with him.

Pete, what's the matter with you?

You look so different. Life's perhaps the descendant of an estate king.

You're nice to shadow, I thought I saw before your face that night.

The shadow that needs to struggle with you, that you said was trying to steal your body.

You have that nice car that's looking for? You're hiding in your home.

Is the knife of holy sacrifice?

Oh, I need to go away, Smith.

I'm afraid of you. Go the way. Go the way.

Oh, Carl, Carl!

I can't let you scream now.

And only tonight will I remove this gag.

That you may scream once upon a great cream stone.

A scream which may reach the holy moon of blood and the spirit of death,

which guard my people's treasure.

One scream upon a great cream stone you shall have tonight.

As I plunge this knife of sacrifice into your breast and tear out,

holiday.

Ah!

Where can you just beat up?

It's three hours since I went home that she was gone then.

Oh, we should have remained in the house and reached it for her.

Now perhaps she has come back while we're out here looking,

but we did wait in the house until it began to go dark.

She never stayed outside to wait.

Always crazy stuff. Peter's been staying.

It's made her a great of a moonlight.

Maybe she's this beat.

They used to take long walks together,

not to get it again to get so clear,

then one is worried, Carl, then it's never reasonable.

Peter's not been at the digging all afternoon.

I bet anything will find him safe now at the house.

Or maybe you're right. Come on back on the beat.

All right, she wouldn't be over in this direction anyway.

From both of her habitables, we seem to have headed for the dean.

At the digging, this is the last place she would be.

She'd don't like that big green stone she got there.

Oh, come on, we'll get back to the house.

The moon is becoming bright now.

She's bound to be at home.

The moon of blood, she calls it.

It does look strange and red tonight.

Wait a minute.

Who's that over there?

Yeah, on the back of the very spot.

Batman or some misty thought perhaps.

He seems to be bowing, making clear gestures.

You're bowing to that world.

Now he raises his arms and looks at the moon.

That's funny.

Oh, strong, I bet.

But no, Doc.

It speaks by two.

It is.

Well, nothing like a lunatic is alone.

I knew Jonas wouldn't be with him.

Oh, she must be at the check now.

Come on, very.

But she got there.

Look, that big long bundle he's lifting from the shadow by that tree.

Come closer.

Let's not waste time.

I've got to get back to the house, Doc.

If I don't find Jonas there,

you won't find her there.

Don't worry, my boy.

What's that bundle?

We've not leased on the big green, too.

Let's not bother about him.

I've got to find out where Jonas is.

These bundle guys,

it looks like a human body.

Yes.

It's like like a machine.

We're two out of a way to see if I can see.

There is a body.

And that's got a sheet.

It's a woman's dress.

God God, that color.

You must want to dress that shape.

It is Jonas.

And he has a knife in his hand.

That knife of sacrifice.

Quick, but God say,

God, if you're too hard to be,

we can't make it.

I have to make it.

He's a madman.

Who got a gun?

No.

No, he's a lunatic.

I can't cure a man who doesn't know what he's doing.

Run.

We've got the stuff.

He can't make it.

Because he's mad.

You got to sort.

Sort him in the heart.

He's awake.

He's waiting.

That knife about her.

I've got the suit

and made God forgive me.

I shoot the kill.

This is you.

You got him.

He's fallen across your ways.

Across the big green zone.

Come on, Jonas.

Jonas, Jonas, I'm coming.

Oh, look me up here.

I'm flying my head.

Yes, there, yes.

Oh, my dear, my darling.

Glee, his death, Carl.

The knife of sacrifice that he fell.

Catch him.

The worst.

That kind of knife we let him get out.

That we couldn't make go of.

It's grown about wide open.

The closure.

It is ours, of course.

Oh, look.

Oh, look at that shadow by the box.

Like we see before.

I'm not sick, Chris.

Instead of you.

It's gone now.

We've appeared within that chapter, moonlight.

Carl, listen to that work.

Our closure.

Treasure.

God.

Dead men bow.

Bump.

Bump.

Rusty.

Punish armor.

Bright men.

Bump.

That is the treasure of the athletes that we've talked.

A burial vault of hate.

And death.

Daniel.

Well, that's the end of that incident.

Come see us again!

We'll tell you another pretty big time story.

Well, you've got to go home now,

Satan and me got business that ain't good.

Part of business.

Are you Satan?

We are midnight Satan.

Ha-ha-ha-ha.

There's more from the Witches Tale, The Horror,

and all of the Relic radio shows at the website relicradio.com.

You can donate through that website as well.

If you'd like to help support this and all of the shows,

thanks as always to those who have.

Thanks for joining me this week.

I'll be back tomorrow with Inter-Saint Demonstrange Tales

and next Saturday with our next episode of The Horror.