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Chapter 15: What We Owe Each Other

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• Trapped within the strange boundaries of Ardent Hollow, Kat finds herself drawn into an unsettling encounter with the town’s enigmatic ruler. What begins as an invitation quickly becomes something far more intimate and dangerous, forcing Kat to confront questions about power, trust, identity, and the cost of survival.

Meanwhile, Jason races against time to uncover the truth behind the town’s origins and the occult bargain at its heart. But as pressure closes in from every direction, an unexpected conversation forces him to reckon with the path he left behind… and the possibility that some doors, once opened, never truly close.

As winter tightens its grip on Ardent Hollow, loyalties blur, old beliefs resurface, and both father and daughter are faced with impossible choices.

Signed in Blood is a supernatural horror podcast set in early 2000s America, blending religious horror, dark fantasy, occult thriller, witchcraft, demon bargains, possession, small-town horror, cult horror, and psychological suspense. Perfect for fans of serialized audio drama, gothic horror, paranormal fiction, slow-burn supernatural thrillers, and emotionally driven dark fantasy.

CW: Psychological Horror, Grooming, Occult Themes, Emotional Distress, Religious Horror, Violence

Written, edited, produced, and performed by Evan O’Cuana
Intro: “Suspension” by Anna Dager & Hanna Ekström
Outro: “A Hundred Windows” by Back_Drop

Say Hi at evanocuana@gmail.com

If you enjoyed the episode, please follow, rate, and review — it helps the show reach more listeners.

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1 SPEAKER_01: Signed in blood is a ritual offering to the keeper of

stories per the terms of our pact.

Let all parties be aware these are tales of horror.

They may not be suitable for all audiences.

Listener discretion is advised.

There are no doors or windows in this space, and that alone

creates a quiet panic.

The stairway that deposited her here disappeared as soon as she

turned her back, and now there's nothing left for her but to wait

for her host.

The room around her is pleasantly warm, thanks to a

fire crackling happily in a nearby hearth.

Above her head hangs a golden sensor from which a light plume

of fragrant purple smoke drifts lazily.

She sits in a high-backed armchair upholstered in rich

leather.

In front of her there lies a table, and on it there rests a

golden tray with a fine China tea set.

The pot has been steaming since she arrived, and she can smell

the citrusy bergamot aroma of the Earl Grey, though she

doesn't have a word for it.

She should be more alarmed.

She knows this.

But despite the anxiety of being trapped in a room with no

obvious exit, the pervading emotion she feels is a calm

certainty.

Come what may, for better or worse, she chose this.

She took a step on her own path, regardless of what Jason wanted.

She thinks of her mother and of her Aunt Shanice.

She imagines them both with her in that space, and the calm

within her deepens.

She is a Turner witch.

She can survive whatever has been waiting for her.

Her silent reverie is broken as the stone wall before her splits

and opens, revealing a young, redheaded girl her own age

clutching a cloth doll.

The blue eyes that behold her are sparkling, pleased as Punch

to see her sitting there.

Hello, Cat, the girl says with a smile.

I'm Sophie.

I'm so happy you accepted my invitation.

With that, Princess Sophie's legs cross one behind the other

in a slight curtsy that looks ridiculous when matched with her

modern dress.

As she stands tall, the stone wall behind her closes once

more.

Kat doesn't rise from her seat but crosses her arms and meets

those eyes with an indifferent stare.

Hey.

If Sophie is disappointed at the lack of enthusiasm, she doesn't

show it, skipping over to the other armchair across the table

from Kat and taking a seat.

SPEAKER_00: I apologize for making you wait on me.

After the commotion just now, there were some things I needed

to take care of before I could give you my full attention.

Can I get you anything?

Are you hungry?

SPEAKER_01: She gestures to a three-tiered serving stand on

the table that appears in the blink of an eye, laden with

finger sandwiches and bite-sized cakes.

Kat shakes her head slightly, processing the surprise of the

spontaneously appearing food and the surreality of the moment in

equal measure.

I'm sorry, you asked me here to have a tea party?

Sophie giggles.

It is a bit much, isn't it?

SPEAKER_00: But I couldn't resist.

I can't imagine you've ever had one before, and I think that's a

shame.

Every young woman deserves certain luxuries, and you've

been through a lot.

SPEAKER_01: The magnitude of the understatement almost pulls a

laugh out of Kat, but she keeps herself composed.

I didn't come here for tea.

No, you came for answers.

But we can have our cake and eat it too, Sophie says, pouring a

cup from the dainty little pot and sliding at Kat's way, along

with a small tea cake on a plate.

And besides, it's been a dreadfully long time since I've

served a guest.

SPEAKER_00: I'd like to be a good host while we have our

talk.

SPEAKER_01: Kat eyes the plate warily, but is painfully aware

that the frozen lasagna waiting for her in the apartment

probably isn't being eaten tonight.

As her dad would say, in for a penny, in for a pound.

So I'm a guest?

she says as she takes a bite of the cake.

I don't think I believe you.

Guests can leave whenever they want.

I don't see how I can leave.

Sophie smiles, and with a wave of her hand, a doorway blooms in

the center of the wall before them.

You're right, and I do apologize.

SPEAKER_00: I've spent such a long time here walking through

walls, sometimes little things like doors slip my mind.

SPEAKER_01: Kat glances at the door, then back to Sophie, who

giggles and crosses the room, opening it to reveal a long

passageway.

SPEAKER_00: There, see?

If you like, I can leave this open while we talk.

It might let in the draft, though.

SPEAKER_01: Kat sighs.

Close it, I guess.

Sophie shrugs, closing the door before returning to her seat.

So long as you know it's there, and that you can walk through it

whenever you wish.

For a moment, Kat is tempted to test that statement.

Make for the door just to see Sophie's reaction.

But the idea seems childish, and having to sit back down

afterward would be embarrassing.

So how do we do this?

she asks before taking a sip of the tea in front of her.

Delicious.

I thought we might talk a while, Sophie says, the doll perched in

her lap.

I don't get the chance to speak with real guests very often.

SPEAKER_00: I'd like to learn more about you.

But if you have burning questions, I did promise

answers.

SPEAKER_01: What are you?

Kat blurts out.

And what did you do to her?

Sophie looks at her, head tilted to the side for a moment before

chuckling.

That's very to the point, Kat.

SPEAKER_00: I like it.

So by her, are you referring to the girl in whose body I now

reside?

SPEAKER_01: Um yeah, Kat says, trying to tame her rising snark.

Is she dead?

Sophie takes a dainty sip of her tea.

SPEAKER_00: Hmm, what an interesting question.

I suppose it begs another.

What does it mean to be alive?

SPEAKER_01: Kat scoffs in spite of herself, and Sophie raises a

hand to her mouth before continuing.

SPEAKER_00: No, no, you're right.

I promised answers, not word games.

But the answer isn't quite so simple.

Is Katie alive?

Well, yes and no.

Her memories are alive.

SPEAKER_01: There are bits and pieces of thought that drift

around up here.

She gestures to her head.

But if you're asking if there's someone else in here with me?

SPEAKER_00: No.

She wasn't strong enough to stay herself.

They never are.

SPEAKER_01: Kat sits in silence, remembering how happy the girl,

Katie, had been when she'd been chosen to ascend.

And how terrified her eyes were in her final moments of life.

Why?

Why would you do this?

A shadow flits across her host's expression for a moment, and Kat

sees a flicker of the real Princess Sophie from behind

Katie's blue eyes.

I don't want this, Kat.

Not any of it.

But I'm stuck here.

I've been trapped for two hundred years.

So long as the town keeps feeding their daughters to me,

I'm not going anywhere.

Kat leans forward.

How did this happen?

My dad says you're powerful.

A princess.

Who could make you a prisoner?

Sophie sets her teacup down on its saucer, leaning back into

the chair.

His name was John Ardent, she says, almost a whisper.

He was a grieving father.

SPEAKER_00: A fool.

He couldn't let his daughter go, not when he'd already lost his

wife.

I warned him that there was little I could do, that she was

probably too far gone.

I should have ended it there, but what he offered.

Not just a soul, but a whole life.

SPEAKER_01: I was greedy.

Kat stares at her.

Sophie doesn't seem to notice her presence anymore, her eyes

searching the patterns of the stone wall before them.

SPEAKER_00: He didn't listen to my warning.

Gave up his own life so that his progeny would thrive.

I entered her then and found that she was too weak to

withstand me.

She died almost the same moment her father did.

It was then that I found out she wasn't Ardent's only progeny.

That he looked at his budding town the same way a father sees

his child.

SPEAKER_01: Sophie's looking at her now, and the look in her

eyes makes Kat recoil.

There's a sadness there, but also a well of pity.

Like she knows something that Kat should, but can't bring

herself to mention it.

So here I am, forced to jump from body to body every few

years so that these people, she spits the word with contempt,

can live silly, comfortable lives unbothered by misfortune.

She pauses.

For this, they've given a mountain of girls.

For this, they would sacrifice mountains more.

But it's you they sacrifice to, Kat says, a rush of heat

igniting in her chest.

You could stop this.

You could say no and you don't.

Sophie tilts her chin in Kat's direction.

SPEAKER_00: And you could stop the suffering of chickens and

cows by giving up meat.

End the silent suffering of plants by abstaining from

robbing the land of its vegetables and fruit.

But then what would be left to sustain you?

I'm trapped here, Kat.

And without a host, I will enter a state worse than death.

I didn't choose this.

I was deceived by the selfishness and manipulations of

a man who valued his suffering more than anything else.

Sound familiar?

SPEAKER_01: Kat wants to say something cutting, to take the

princess down a peg.

But her tongue is as heavy as her heart, and all she can

manage is a glare.

I'm not judging, Sophie says gently.

SPEAKER_00: I'm just letting you know I understand.

SPEAKER_01: You don't.

SPEAKER_00: Don't I?

SPEAKER_01: So what?

What do you want me to say?

What do you want from me?

She pauses, and then you want my power.

That's it, right?

That's all your kind ever wants.

More power.

You're just like Stolis.

Finally, for the first time since they met, she struck a

nerve.

Sophie's eyes flash a pure cold steel.

SPEAKER_00: I am nothing, nothing like that condescending

bastard.

SPEAKER_01: Her breath is forced through a harsh whisper.

Her hands have wrapped around the doll's throat, and she's

squeezing with such force as to make her knuckles as white as

the cloth.

She looks as if she's trying to pop its head clean off for a

moment before she deflates into the chair with a long exhale.

For a minute she says nothing, and the silence between them

weighs heavy.

He used to be kind, you know, she says after a while.

SPEAKER_00: Gentle.

Like a big brother.

Always happy to share.

Always with a kind word.

SPEAKER_01: Kat stares at her in disbelief.

SPEAKER_00: What happened?

Same thing that always does.

SPEAKER_01: Sophie responds, a bitter edge to her voice.

He changed.

The person I met.

He Kat starts, but can't find the words.

SPEAKER_00: No, let me guess.

SPEAKER_01: Sophie picks herself back up in her seat.

SPEAKER_00: He saw potential in you, right?

Painted you a grand picture about how you were going to

change the world.

Showed you the future.

Just stop me if I'm getting warm.

SPEAKER_01: Kat doesn't say a word.

She can't meet Sophie's gaze.

SPEAKER_00: And you think I want the same thing.

SPEAKER_01: It wasn't a question.

Kat can hear the defeat in the princess's voice.

It's all anyone cares about, Kat says finally.

Sophie remains silent, picking up the steaming pot and

refilling their cups.

I know how you feel, she says after a moment.

Kat wants to protest, but she can't possibly.

The words feel genuine, and she doesn't know what to do with

that.

Then what do you want?

To go home?

Or at least to leave this place, to see the world once more.

To feel the wind of the Mediterranean Sea on my face

again, and bathe in the Euphrates.

SPEAKER_00: And you think I can make that happen?

I think you and I together could do anything if we became allies.

Partners.

SPEAKER_01: What do you need me for?

You're strong.

Why don't you free yourself?

Because I'm bound here.

My wings are clipped so long as I am trapped in these bodies.

But if you and I were to join?

Kat shoots to her feet in an instant.

I knew it! You want to eat me like you ate them.

A tremor passes through the chamber as the air around her

crackles.

Sophie looks genuinely surprised.

No, she says, her voice calm, though her eyes are concerned.

SPEAKER_00: No, not like them.

They were too small, too weak to remain with me.

But with you, I think it could be different.

You might even end up consuming me.

SPEAKER_01: But if it means leaving this place, it would be

worth it.

Kat is breathing hard, sweat forming on her brow as she

clutches the edge of the table.

She's trying desperately not to lose control, to the point that

she feels the familiar pain welling up in her gut from

trying to suppress her power.

The rage she feels is almost unbearable.

It's okay, Sophie says, eyes on her.

SPEAKER_00: Let it out.

I can't.

SPEAKER_01: Kat gasps.

It's too much.

You can.

Sophie smiles.

It's going to be okay.

SPEAKER_00: Let it out before it kills you.

SPEAKER_01: I can help.

The pain stabs at her from the inside, growing ever more

intense.

Kat's vision is starting to blur, but as she meets Sophie's

gaze, the girl is still smiling.

Trust me.

Kat screams and releases a blazing azure inferno from deep

within herself.

The table and chairs disappear in a blinding flash, consumed by

the force of her magic.

She loses sight of Sophie, but can't hope to contain the fire

as it drains out of her.

In an instant, it's over.

And she falls to her knees, head pounding.

Well, she hears Sophie's voice from above her.

SPEAKER_00: That's one way to end a tea party.

SPEAKER_01: She looks up to see the red-haired girl standing a

few feet away in the wreckage of what remains of the furniture,

clothes and hair singed slightly from the blaze.

Her left arm, however, is a charred, smoking husk.

The only thing that remains spotless is the doll, cradled

gently in her right arm.

Kat stares at the blackened stub of a limb that Sophie is still

holding out in midair.

Noticing the horrified expression on her face, Sophie

laughs, giving the arm a good shake.

In an instant, the blackened bits fall away like snowflakes

stained with soot, and a new, slightly pinkened arm remains.

See?

Told you I could take it, Sophie beams.

You've got quite a temper, Kat.

It's marvelous.

Fuck, Kat whispers.

Sophie kneels before her.

SPEAKER_00: I'm sorry.

It was a lot to drop on you, and I could have done that better.

This is a lot to think about, and there's no rush.

How about you give it a few days?

And in the meantime, I show you how royalty lives.

SPEAKER_01: What do you mean?

Well, for starters, Sophie says, a mischievous grin on her face.

I'm willing to bet you've never had a slumber party.

Jason takes another sip of his coffee, grimacing as he studies

his notes.

He spent two days digging through the town's library, as

well as the town records office, looking for every scrap of

information pertaining to the bargain between John Ardent and

the demon Lamashtu.

Progress was slow going at first.

The official municipal records were very sparse in regard to

the founding of Ardent Hollow.

Many of the journal entries and unofficial accounts from the

period were cryptic and flowery in their language, choosing

illusion and allegory over brass tacks.

But Jason knew what to look for, and after a while was able to

piece together the shape of things.

The pastor, John Ardent, recently bereaved of his wife

who passed from consumption, led a wagon train from Massachusetts

to settle a particular patch of the driftless area in Wisconsin.

Riding in the wagon next to him was his daughter, Sophie, light

of his life.

When Sophie also contracted tuberculosis, it was a bridge

too far for the pastor.

Christ didn't seem to be listening, so he started

courting the other team.

Jason could relate.

The rest was self-explanatory.

Ardent plucked a stone from a nearby river and with it sealed

a bargain with the spirit of providence, as one writer put

it.

Lamashtu, in her rush to claim the power of a human life, got

sloppy when it came to the language Ardent chose.

And when both he and Sophie passed, she stayed bound.

The language here is ironclad, which means she's fucked.

And, by extension, so is he.

Of course, helping Princess Sophie back out of the deal was

never his focus, but it would have been so much smoother if he

could have acquired what he came for and fulfilled his end of the

bargain at the same time.

Jason doesn't usually play zero-sum games, but he'll do

what he has to when it comes to Kat.

She hasn't been home since the night of the ascension.

Sophie was good on her word that the town's resources would be

open to him, but he hasn't seen her since that night either.

Any request for An audience is ignored, and any question about

his daughter has been met with blank stares and polite, smiling

silence from the townsfolk.

At this point, he's surprised he hasn't strangled any of them and

casually wonders if they'd keep their empty smiles if he did.

He takes another sip of coffee and peers around the diner.

Customers have been filing in and out over the last few hours,

shooting him curious glances, but for the most part not

investing as deeply in him as they had when Kat was here.

Dawn, the waitress, has been keeping his coffee full as she

bustles to and fro, tending to the last of the breakfast crowd.

Unlike the others, she's kept watch on him surreptitiously

throughout the morning and his other meals here.

Beneath the ocean of pleasantness and polite service,

he spots the lurking vigilance as easily as lesser fish are

aware of a patrolling shark.

He turns back to his notes.

She can watch all she likes.

They all can.

They can stare and record every movement he makes.

They still won't clock what's coming until it's already too

late.

He had spent his entire childhood in a place like this,

a small town where all you had to carry was your own shame and

the weight of all your neighbors' eyes.

He never thought he'd be forced to come back, though.

Never thought he'd put his own daughter through this.

Sophie will keep Kat safe, he keeps telling himself.

Demons are many things, but they treat their bargains seriously.

No doubt she's trying to stack the deck in her favor, but he

can't waste time worrying about what he can't control.

Getting the relic is all that matters.

The eastward path, like any tradition, is full of lore and

story.

Much of it is nonsense, rumors, and fantasy repeated over and

over in backroom seances and online forums until they become

accepted as fact.

He spent years learning how to pick out the real gems from the

horse shit, thanks in no small part to the same intuition that

allows him to channel.

The heart of Lamashtu, a relic that supposedly allows its

wielder to rewrite physical matter and space, is largely

thought to be a fairy tale.

Even if it had been real at one time, no one knew what it looked

like, or had even seen the demon Lamashtu in centuries.

No one else had suspected she was the demon princess who ruled

over Ardent Halo.

But Jason trusted his hunches.

And now, his daughter might be the next in a long line of girls

taken by this shithole.

No.

He can't let himself entertain the idea, can't start losing

focus.

The heart is real, he's seen it in action, seen how Sophie used

it to warp the town around her.

From reading the accounts of the founding, he's pieced together

that the heart is the stone that Ardent plucked from the river

and used as Lamashtu's physical anchor to this world.

Now he just needs to find the stone and a way to get it and

Kat out of here without being ripped apart by rabid townsfolk.

Dawn comes by with a fresh pot of coffee, and he accepts a

little more as he stares at his notes.

In the distance he hears the bell at the entrance of the

diner jingle.

The stone is either lodged in the courthouse throne, or it's

sewn somewhere in that goddamn doll she never lets out of her

hands.

The throne would make sense.

It's crafted from stone mined here, and keeping it there would

anchor her in the literal seat of her power.

But there's something about the way she's always clutching that

doll.

Mind if I join you?

He looks up to see Ella Rose, bundled in a navy blue cashmere

peacoat, standing mere feet away, watching him intently.

For a fleeting instant, he wants to launch the mug at her and

make a break for the exit.

But the desire passes as his heart rate slows.

Depends on whether you're hiding a knife in there.

He gestures to her coat.

She smiles without revealing her teeth, pulling her bare hands

from the pockets of the peacoat and presenting them for his

inspection.

He sighs, gesturing to the empty portion of the booth in front of

him.

She removes the coat, revealing a smartly cut dress of the same

color, and slides into the booth to face him.

So, he says.

So you left your dog at home.

He has a habit of escalating things.

I noticed.

You can forgive him for being a little excited at our first

meeting.

It's been a long time coming.

A Jamie talking about forgiveness, Jason says, taking

a sip from his mug.

Funny.

You don't put a lot of stock in faith, do you, Jason?

I've seen what people do in the name of their faith, Ella.

Hard to look at it the same way after.

And what you do for your own gain?

This is better?

I don't kill elderly civilians who can't defend themselves.

Ella grins ruefully at this.

She's about to reply when Dawn cuts in to ask for her order.

She selects the tea and toast before turning back to Jason.

Timothy McCaffrey was already in the early stages of corruption

when we caught up to them.

We did them both a kindness.

Another few months, and he would have been unrecognizable.

Jason says nothing.

The one before him?

The actress in Rockford?

She'd begun draining the essence of those around her.

Nothing substantial, nothing they'd notice.

But given time, she could have killed someone.

They're not the only ones.

We've been following you for years, Jason.

In all that time, we've been able to study what happens to

those poor souls unfortunate enough to deal with you.

And there's been something I've been wanting to ask you for a

long while now.

He looks at her, jaws set.

Did you know?

Did you know what would happen to them when you made those

deals?

He sighs, staring into his coffee.

What I know is that they were out of options, just like I was.

I knew there were risks and I prepared them as best I could,

but I'm not God.

I can't know what a person will do after.

All I can do is give them a shot after everything and everyone

else has failed them.

She nods, saying nothing for a while.

You know, I read about what happened to you.

Your family, what that witch took from you.

I can't understand why you would choose them over us, especially

after something like that.

He laughs.

No, you can't possibly.

You people taught me that for every eye taken, another is

owed.

I spent years looking at the world in terms of debt, about

what was owed to me.

Life was just a cycle of gain and loss in a giant ledger held

by the church.

Pages and pages of red and black ink that add up to nothing.

It was my wife.

He feels his throat tighten at the words.

Who showed me that there could be more to life than this?

And you people took her from me.

So now I'm back to debts and bargains.

She's looking at him the way she did on Ascension night, as if

she can see right through him.

I'm no stranger to loss, Jason.

To be alive is to suffer.

But you don't have to suffer alone.

You have strayed from the path, sinned, but there is always a

path to redemption.

He snorts.

If you think I'm gonna lay down and let you people purge us, she

shakes her head.

I'm not talking about that.

I mean redemption.

I'm talking about coming back.

He looks at her, dumbfounded.

You're fucking with me.

I'm not.

My partner doesn't know, but I received another directive

should I ever come face to face with you like this?

This offer comes straight from the master himself.

He feels his temper rise, fists clenching.

He does his best to relax.

If she notices, she's not letting on.

You have real talent, Jason.

These last few years as an enemy, you've proven yourself

capable.

Worthy, even.

Nothing you've done here is unforgivable if you come back to

the fold.

You could be an asset.

You could use your powers to do real good.

And my daughter?

She pauses.

I don't want to make a promise I can't keep, Jason.

She is what she is, and our laws are clear.

But I believe she could be an asset too, and I would be

willing to speak on her behalf.

How generous of you! I mean it.

It was my plan to kill her quickly, as painlessly as

possible.

But we saw her today, just an hour ago as we were driving

through town.

He sits straight up, blood draining from his face.

Where was she?

Did she look all right?

Out on one of the large hills just west of here.

She was sledding with the princess and a few other girls.

Looked like she was having the time of her life.

He leans back, trying to picture it.

The weight in his chest is enormous.

Ella reaches forward and places her hand on his.

She's warm despite having just come in from the freezing

December morning.

He's too surprised to pull away.

I know she didn't choose to be what she is.

I believe it might not be too late for her to be saved, really

saved.

I'm willing to speak for her.

All that's required is for you to decide that this madness must

end.

It's up to you, Jason.

I'm asking you, please, come back to us.

He closes his eyes for just a moment.

In his mind he can see Alicia's face the last time he saw her

smile.

And then comes the memory of her scream as he lay dying the night

he lost her.

He pulls his hand away and opens his eyes to look at her.

You know, he scoffs.

I was warned about you just a few days ago.

A being older than civilization told me that out of the both of

you, you were the one I should beware of most.

I see it now.

She stares at him, not noticing as Dawn sets down the tea and

toast before her.

I've seen the kind of salvation you bring, Jason says, getting

up as the waitress leaves.

I'll die before I let you people lay a hand on my daughter.

Enjoy your breakfast.

Fuck off.

He crosses the length of the diner, past the sheriff's deputy

assigned a chaperone Ella, and to the door without looking

back.

He can feel her eyes on him, feel the weight of her gaze

resting on his shoulders as he opens the door and the bite of

the cold kisses his face.

He pushes forward.

Sophie's deadline expires tomorrow evening, and he has

preparations to make some turns away once more from the

organization he once called home, Kat finds herself being

drawn even further into the court of the demon princess.

Will what she finds there repel her?

Or will she make a choice she can't come back from?

Return in two weeks, dear travelers, as the trap begins to

close.

This episode was written, performed, produced, and mixed

by Evan Okuana.

Our intro music is by Anna Dagger and Hannah Ekstrom.

Outro music is by Backdrop.

You can find more at Signedandbloodcast.com.

If you liked what you heard, follow and subscribe on your

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It makes a huge difference for an indie show like this.

Want to feed a little energy back into the magic that keeps

Signed and Blood alive?

Leave a rating or a review.

For those who wish to go further, there's a Buy Me a

Coffee link in the show notes.

Every donation helps, regardless of size, and I'll send you

blessings through my Chaos Magic practice during our monthly

ritual of thanks.

Thank you for listening.

Until next time, keep your past in the rear view, your ledger

clean, and your intentions signed in blood.

This transcript was automatically generated by the podcast creator and may contain errors. Aggregated via the PodcastIndex API.