Shownotes
Leonard Voss runs errands after work.
A grocery store. A quick stop. One more ordinary moment before everything starts to turn.
Then a man starts losing control in front of his children.
Leonard steps in.
It ends quickly, but the moment follows him out of the store.
At checkout, a cashier recognizes him while a news report plays quietly in the background. Another story about violence. Another face on a screen that refuses to leave his head once he gets home.
So Leonard does what he always does when his thoughts start getting loud.
He goes for a run.
Chapter 2, Part 1: The Day Before continues Red in the Dark, a serialized psychological horror audio drama set in Maine and rooted in trauma, fractured memory, violence, emotional collapse, and the quiet ways people learn to live beside darkness for too long.
But what happens when a face in the crowd stops looking human for just a second?
What happens when your own reflection starts feeling unfamiliar?
Some things are easier to ignore in daylight.
Not everything waits for daylight to come back.
Support the show: share it with someone you think would love Red in the Dark.
Written, produced, sound engineered, and voice acted by Leonard Voss
The father, young boy, and Leonard Voss voiced by Leonard Voss
All other voices are AI generated while we continue seeking voice actors to replace and update those performances.
Email [email protected] if you're interested in participating in the project, from voice acting and production to editing and website support.
Transcripts
Red in the dark.
Speaker B:Chapter 2 part 1 of the day before smile.
Speaker B:You're on camera.
Speaker B:Leonard moved through the produce section with a basket hooked over one forearm.
Speaker A:The early evening light angled through the.
Speaker B:Store's front windows, catching dust motes that drifted slow and aimless above the displays.
Speaker A:He moved past the first end cap and glanced up.
Speaker B:A red and white sign hung above the aisle opening reading, smile.
Speaker B:You're ON camera.
Speaker A:The stock photo grin beside it was too big.
Speaker A:Teeth too white, eyes too bright.
Speaker A:Larry smiled at it without thinking.
Speaker A:The security dome above the sign caught his reflection in its curved black glass.
Speaker B:The dome caught him mid smile.
Speaker A:He almost didn't recognize it.
Speaker A:The expression was right, the shape was right, but something behind it wasn't.
Speaker A:It was like the smile belonged to his face, the way a coat belongs to a hook.
Speaker A:Present hanging, not alive.
Speaker C:Excuse me?
Speaker B:A cart bumped lightly into his hip as a woman cut around him, already halfway past.
Speaker B:Sorry, she said without looking back.
Speaker B:He blinked.
Speaker B:The reflection shifted.
Speaker B:Just glass.
Speaker B:Just his face.
Speaker B:No problem, he shot back without thinking.
Speaker B:Stepping aside, he adjusted the basket on his arm and turned into the produce aisle, reaching for tomatoes without really looking.
Speaker B:The basket filled as he moved, automatic choices, practiced routes.
Speaker B:From the next aisle over, a raised voice cut through the store.
Speaker D:Jesus Christ, Samantha, Would you fucking pay attention?
Speaker B:Larry stopped mid reach for a box of pasta, setting it back on the shelf before moving to the end of the aisle for a clear view.
Speaker B:A man in his 30s stood over two kids, face flushed, jaw tight.
Speaker B:A girl, maybe eight, had knocked something off a shelf.
Speaker B:A younger boy hovered behind her, already folding in on himself.
Speaker B:His hand closed around her arm.
Speaker B:Her lips trembled.
Speaker D:I swear to God, if you don't start listening.
Speaker B:The boy started crying.
Speaker B:Leonard stepped to the mouth of the cereal island, stopped.
Speaker B:He stood where the two aisles met,.
Speaker A:Facing them, basket still hooked over his arm.
Speaker A:The grip tightened.
Speaker D:What the fuck do you want?
Speaker A:He snapped.
Speaker B:Nothing.
Speaker B:Just making sure everything's okay, he said pleasantly.
Speaker A:He scoffed.
Speaker A:The girl was yanked closer, hard enough that she stumbled.
Speaker D:Mind your own fucking business, you scumbag.
Speaker A:The aisle went still.
Speaker B:Larry's lips curled into a slow, easy smile.
Speaker D:What, you got a problem?
Speaker B:Leonard held his twisted smile and replied without blinking.
Speaker A:No, he said finally.
Speaker A:Do you?
Speaker A:The boy cried louder as the girl's.
Speaker B:Eyes flicked between them.
Speaker A:The grip loosened.
Speaker A:Let's go, he muttered.
Speaker D:Samantha, we're leaving.
Speaker D:Alex.
Speaker D:Now.
Speaker A:He pulled both kids toward the front of the store, moving fast.
Speaker A:Leonard watched them go, then blinked.
Speaker A:His face softened.
Speaker A:The younger boy glanced over his shoulder as he was pulled away.
Speaker A:Larry met his eyes and smiled gently.
Speaker B:You gotta get going, champ.
Speaker B:Stay with your dad, okay?
Speaker A:Alex nodded, confused, and disappeared around the corner.
Speaker A:Leonard moved back to the pasta aisle, picked up the pasta, and headed toward the front of the store.
Speaker B:Three checkout lanes faced him.
Speaker B:Two were open on the left.
Speaker B:A gray bearded man leaned forward at the counter, arguing with the cashier while.
Speaker A:Her phone sat propped against the register.
Speaker A:Volume up.
Speaker A:The noise bled across the front of the store.
Speaker A:The other open lane waited.
Speaker B:Leonard set the basket on the belt and began unloading without thinking about it, his attention loose.
Speaker A:Jennifer glanced up.
Speaker A:Her hands paused for a moment, then moved again.
Speaker C:Find everything okay?
Speaker A:Yeah.
Speaker A:Thanks.
Speaker A:She scanned the items, her rhythm a little off.
Speaker C:You're in here a lot?
Speaker A:Couple times a week, leonard said, setting a carton on the belt.
Speaker C:I've noticed.
Speaker A:She caught it a half second after it left her mouth, eyes dropping back to the register.
Speaker B:Leonard nodded, already reaching for the next item.
Speaker B:A small smile found his face.
Speaker A:Jennifer kept scanning, color rising in her cheeks, saying nothing.
Speaker B:From the lane to the left, voices rose.
Speaker B:The gray bearded customer leaned forward, jabbing a finger toward the cashier's phone screen.
Speaker B:They haven't even proven he did it yet, the cashier snapped back without looking at him.
Speaker C:Doesn't matter what they prove.
Speaker C:Look at him.
Speaker B:She turned the phone toward the counter.
Speaker C:You can see it in his face.
Speaker C:He burned those fucking kids alive and he's sitting there like nothing happened.
Speaker B:Larry's hand paused halfway to the milk.
Speaker B:The gray beard shook his head.
Speaker A:That's not how the law.
Speaker B:A high pitched ringing broke out in his ears and slowly rose, drowning out the store.
Speaker B:Low laughter forced its way up from Leonard's stomach.
Speaker C:Fuck the law.
Speaker C:That man's guilty.
Speaker B:Fuck the law.
Speaker B:The voice echoed.
Speaker C:Sir?
Speaker B:Leonard blinked.
Speaker B:Jennifer was watching him, receipt in hand.
Speaker C:That'll be 43.50, she said.
Speaker A:Sorry.
Speaker A:Yeah.
Speaker B:He paid, bagged the rest, and took the receipt.
Speaker C:Have a good night.
Speaker B:You too, leonard said.
Speaker B:He glanced back as he turned, two fingers lifting off the bag handle to wave goodbye.
Speaker B:Jennifer smiled.
Speaker B:He walked through the sliding doors into the evening air.
Speaker B:The sun sat low on the horizon, orange light stretching long shadows across the parking lot.
Speaker B:He loaded the bags into his trunk, closed it, and drove.
Speaker B:Congress street moved the way it always did, slow through downtown, catching lights, the city doing its thing around him.
Speaker B:He was home 20 minutes later, third.
Speaker A:House on the right, quiet street, trees lining both sides.
Speaker A:Inside, the groceries went where they always did.
Speaker B:He turned the television on out of.
Speaker A:Habit, half listening while he worked through the bags.
Speaker A:A news anchor's voice filled the kitchen.
Speaker A:Investigators say the evidence recovered from the property points to a pattern of A photo of Evan Rourke filled the screen.
Speaker A:Larry went still.
Speaker A:The rumbling started low, somewhere beneath his sternum.
Speaker A:He picked up the remote and turned it off.
Speaker A:The kitchen went quiet.
Speaker A:We're running late, he said.
Speaker A:He checked the microwave clock.
Speaker A:5:47Pm he'd meant to run that morning.
Speaker B:Work had gone late.
Speaker A:He'd skipped it.
Speaker A:He didn't skip runs.
Speaker B:He changed into running clothes, stretched once in the living room, and was out the door by 6:05 with music buzzing in his headphones.
Speaker B:The light was already thinning.
Speaker B:Streetlights were on, but the sky still held enough color that they didn't matter yet.
Speaker B:He came down off the hill and hit the Eastern Prom as the last of the orange bled out over the water.
Speaker A:The bay stretched wide to his left, dark and flat.
Speaker B:His breathing settled quickly.
Speaker B:His feet found their rhythm.
Speaker A:A dog bolted across the path ahead, fast and heavy.
Speaker A:Larry adjusted without breaking stride.
Speaker A:The animal flashed past, close enough to feel, then was gone.
Speaker A:Shouted apologies, followed unheard.
Speaker A:He kept going.
Speaker A:Up from India street.
Speaker A:The city folded back around him.
Speaker A:He moved through Kennedy park as the trees closed overhead and the light between them thinned to pockets of yellow along the path.
Speaker A:A man sat slumped on a bench ahead.
Speaker A:Larry's eyes moved to him automatically, still, head down.
Speaker A:Then the head turned.
Speaker A:The face was caved in.
Speaker A:The left side collapsed completely, the socket gone, the cheekbone driven inward like something had passed through it with weight and purpose.
Speaker A:The jaw hung wrong.
Speaker A:Dark matter matted the hair above the ear.
Speaker A:The mouth opened and what came out wasn't sound, just air, just the shape of a word that didn't make it.
Speaker A:A hand rose from the bench, slow, patient, reaching directly for him.
Speaker B:Focus ahead, the voice encouraged.
Speaker A:Larry's gaze snapped forward.
Speaker A:Pavement, the path, his feet.
Speaker A:He ran another three strides before his eyes moved back involuntarily.
Speaker A:The man on the bench was thin, weathered, bundled in a gray coat two sizes too large.
Speaker A:His hand was out, palm up, asking for change.
Speaker A:Just a man.
Speaker A:He faced forward and kept running.
Speaker A:His breathing took a moment to find itself again.
Speaker A:The alley cut off the back end of the park, a shortcut he'd used before.
Speaker A:Still, some light left.
Speaker B:Enough.
Speaker A:Leonard turned into it.
Speaker B:Smile.
Speaker A:You're on camera.
Speaker B:Next.
Speaker B:Chapter two Part two Junkies.