Strange Waves

Stranger Tides

S1 E73:07

A lonely lighthouse keeper calls Strange Waves with a terrifying claim: every night, his dead wife returns, begging him to take their boat out into the fog. But Mary has been dead for twenty years… so what is knocking at his door? As Jack Mercer investigates, he uncovers chilling legends of sirens, sea spirits, and entities that imitate the voices of those we love to lure us into the darkness. Some myths were never meant to stay buried beneath the waves.

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Season 1

Transcript

[static] You're listening to "The Witching Hour," where the signal reaches places the light never could. I'm Jack Mercer. Tonight's caller is broadcasting from a lighthouse somewhere along the coast of Maine. He says something has been knocking on his door, wearing the voice of someone who died 20 years ago. Silas, you're on the air. [static] Evening, Jack. Ain't much for talking, but reckon I ain't got much choice now. [thunder] Storm's been beating the tower since sundown, and she's come back. Who's come back? My wife. At least, she sounds like her. Problem is, Mary drowned 20 winters ago. Hello, who else is on the line? Silas, open the door. I'm cold. Hear that? She's been saying that all night. Please, come outside. The tide brought me home. Don't you listen to her. That ain't Mary. You left me out here. Come hold me. Touch me. Lord, help me. She never talked like that. [panting] [door bangs] For centuries, sailors spoke of creatures that called from the sea. The Greeks named them sirens, not merely beautiful women, but hunters. They borrowed familiar voices, promises, memories, anything to make a man take one fatal step. She knows things, calls me by names nobody else knows. [gun cocks] Smells like salt and then roses. [panting] Ships altered course. Crews swore they heard loved ones calling from the fog. By dawn, only broken hulls remained against the rocks. Whatever they encountered, it knew exactly who they wanted to hear. [singing] Mary. We'll wait. [singing] No, you ain't my wife. [screeching] No! [gunshot] Every sailor learns that the ocean doesn't hate us. It doesn't love us either. It just waits. Maybe that's what the oldest legends were trying to tell us. Not every voice calling your name deserves an answer. Sometimes survival isn't about finding the light. It's about refusing to follow the one shining out beyond the waves. Until next time, I'm Jack Mercer. Good night. [static]

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