EnCrypted: The Classic Horror Podcast
Jul 18, 2026 · 41 min · 11 segments
The priest of a small seaside village becomes embroiled in the nightmare of a wealthy family who believe themselves to be tormented by a monster from "out of the sea"...This is an original reading of…
Jasper LestrangeHost
Out of the Sea by A. C. Benson It was about ten o'clock on a November morning in the little village of Blea-on-the-Sands.

The hamlet was made up of some thirty houses, which clustered together on a low rising ground.

The place was very poor, but some old merchant of bygone days had built in a pious mood a large church, which was now too great for the needs of the place.

The nave had been unroofed in a heavy gale, and there was no money to repair it, so that it had fallen to decay, and the tower was joined to the choir by roofless walls.

This was a sore trial to the old priest, Father Thomas, who had grown grey there.

which he asked for in a shamefaced way, and the vicarage was a poor one, hardly enough for the old man's needs, and so the church lay desolate.

The village stood on what must once have been an island, the little river Reddy, which runs down to the sea, there forking into two channels on the landward side, Towards the sea the ground was bare, full of sand-hills covered with a short grass.

Towards the land was a small wood of gnarled trees, the boughs of which were all brushed smooth by the gales.

Looking landward, there was the green flat in which the river ran, rising into low hills.

There was a bridge over the stream on the west side, but over the other channel there was no bridge, so that to fare eastward it was requisite to go in a boat.

The people were mostly fishermen, but there were a few farmers and labourers.

The boats of the fishermen lay to the east side of the village, near the river channel which gave some draft of water, and the channel was marked out by big black stakes and posts that straggled out over the sands like awkward leaning figures to the sea's brim.
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Out of the Sea by A. C. Benson It was about ten o'clock on a November morning in the little village of Blea-on-the-Sands.

The hamlet was made up of some thirty houses, which clustered together on a low rising ground.

The place was very poor, but some old merchant of bygone days had built in a pious mood a large church, which was now too great for the needs of the place.

The nave had been unroofed in a heavy gale, and there was no money to repair it, so that it had fallen to decay, and the tower was joined to the choir by roofless walls.

This was a sore trial to the old priest, Father Thomas, who had grown grey there.

which he asked for in a shamefaced way, and the vicarage was a poor one, hardly enough for the old man's needs, and so the church lay desolate.

The village stood on what must once have been an island, the little river Reddy, which runs down to the sea, there forking into two channels on the landward side, Towards the sea the ground was bare, full of sand-hills covered with a short grass.

Towards the land was a small wood of gnarled trees, the boughs of which were all brushed smooth by the gales.

Looking landward, there was the green flat in which the river ran, rising into low hills.

There was a bridge over the stream on the west side, but over the other channel there was no bridge, so that to fare eastward it was requisite to go in a boat.

The people were mostly fishermen, but there were a few farmers and labourers.

The boats of the fishermen lay to the east side of the village, near the river channel which gave some draft of water, and the channel was marked out by big black stakes and posts that straggled out over the sands like awkward leaning figures to the sea's brim.