The Dunwich Horror Audio Drama
Project Overview
In the shadowed hills of rural New England, something unnatural stirs. Strange whispers echo through the valley, ancient rites are performed in secrecy, and an eerie presence looms over the isolated town of Dunwich. When a mysterious outsider arrives at Miskatonic University seeking forbidden knowledge, a group of scholars unwittingly become entangled in a terrifying mystery—one that threatens to unravel the very fabric of reality.
The Dunwich Horror is an atmospheric and chilling adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft’s classic tale of cosmic terror. Set in early 20th-century New England, it follows the unsettling events surrounding the cursed Whateley family of Dunwich, outcasts dabbling in dark, ancient rituals beyond human understanding.
This will be a three-part episode
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Dr. Armitage is a distinguished professor and head librarian at Miskatonic University. A man of great intellect and logical reasoning, he initially dismisses supernatural claims but quickly finds himself at the center of an escalating horror. Scholarly and deliberate in his actions, he must come to terms with the terrifying knowledge he uncovers. It is part of the lead trio.
- new england
- neutral american
- Measured
- Thoughtful
- male senior
(lecturing, calm and precise): The Abydos King List, for instance, not only preserves the lineage of pharaohs but deliberately omits rulers considered illegitimate—Hatshepsut, Nephren-Ka, Akhenaten, even the boy-king Tutankhamun. This reveals its purpose: a curated narrative to reinforce dynastic power, rather than objective history.
(sharpening his tone, though his curiosity is evident): Fragments I’ve encountered rarely include anything practical, let alone verifiable. I am first a man of science Mr.Whateley. So, tell me, what’s your angle here? A family tradition, perhaps? Like you mentioned in the letters.
(stern): Mr. Whateley, this behavior is unacceptable. Threatening Miss Daniels—if that’s what I just witnessed—is beyond excusable. What I understand is that access to the restricted section is a privilege granted only to those with proper clearance. You do not qualify, and your conduct here today ensures that you never will.
Professor Rice is a longtime friend and colleague of Armitage, with a keen intellect and a cautious and confident mind.
- new england
- neutral american
- male adult
- confident
- Brave
(musing): Well, he didn’t sound harmless, but there's something... odd about the whole thing. Some of the details he mentioned were a bit too accurate for comfort. The dates and locations, even some ancient references. You know..... from those books.
(intense, locking eyes with him): And tell them what, Morgan?! That an invisible monster is crushing trees in the dark?! Would you have run in the trenches too?! You didn’t panic in Belgium, Morgan. You didn’t run when the gas rolled in, when men were drowning on dry land.
(reading the pages): The handwriting changes, almost as if... it devolves. The early pages are coherent, structured, but later, they’re a chaotic mix of symbols, phrases, fragments. He called it a family responsibility. Said his ancestors had prepared him for something—something tied to those hills near Dunwich.
Professor Morgan of Miskatonic University is a curious yet sometimes fearful man. Highly intelligent in his areas of expertise, he excels in academia but often lets emotion cloud his judgment in difficult situations.
- male adult
- new england
- neutral american
(lowering his voice conspiratorially): He’s odd, Henry. Real odd. Tall and gangly but looks like he’s spent his life working on a farm, and his face... (hesitates) Can’t quite put my finger on it. There’s something about him that’s just... off. Like he’s not all put together right. He looks like a goat, and smells like one too
breathing hard, pacing, voice shaken and rising): No. No, that’s it. That’s it! I’m done. I’m out. I’m going back to Arkham This isn’t some library puzzle, Armitage! This isn’t some mystery we can dissect behind closed doors! This—this thing could flatten half the town! Hell, it almost tore the house down just by leaning on it!
(pausing, almost whispering): Yog? Like in Yog-Sothoth? That’s not the first time I’ve heard that name. It’s an ancient spirit. I heard it mentioned in Egypt, Persia and Babylon. Some sort of Pre Judaic entity in the middle east.
Wilbur Whateley is a towering, grotesque figure with an unnerving presence. His eerie voice, inhuman mannerisms, and quiet menace make him both fascinating and terrifying. Seeking an actor who can convey an imposing, otherworldly presence with subtle menace.
- male adult
- monster
- awkward
- Scary
- new england
- neutral american
- Imposing
(adjusting his coat, his voice carefully measured but carrying a faint tremor of nerves): Ah, yes. Well... I’ve been studying ancient cosmologies, Doctor. Egyptian, Babilonic, Astec. The connections between celestial alignments and... human potential. It’s an area I understand you’ve written on—or at least touched upon, indirectly, in your lectures and papers. The rituals are—ah—just a part of the broader study. They’re, uh, methods for understanding certain truths about the universe. You’ve, no doubt, encountered references to such practices in your own work. Fragments of... deeper knowledge.
Wilbur Whateley (leaning in, his voice low but charged with menace): And I’ve told you, that I’m no mere tourist here to gawk at curiosities. The volumes in that section—they hold truths you can’t begin to comprehend. Let me through, or you’ll regret keeping me out. You don’t understand what’s at stake. Keeping me from these books... it would be better for you to step aside, Miss.
(snarling): They do not understand! Not you… not them! It must be done—our blood demands it! OUR BLOOD DESERVES IT! Gor'ya phal… Vhulnah'maei ishr'nat… The Gate is near! The Gate is near!
An ancient, decrepit man devoted to his blasphemous worship, Old Whateley is the sinister patriarch of the Whateley family. He has spent his life preparing for a cosmic horror’s arrival, instilling his knowledge into his monstrous grandson Wilbur.
- Gravelly
- Ominous
- adr/looping/eps
- male senior
- general american
- new england
(his voice deep and deliberate, chanting broken by moments of speech): Stay still, Lavinia. The child is a blessing from the Gods. A vessel of their will. You will endure this!
(cold, commanding, his chant momentarily breaking): Silence! This is your duty, Lavinia. You were chosen for this. The Outer One watches. He is near. Ya nugui tur ah fahgt Yog-Sothoth wgah'nagl fhtagn! N'ghft shugg kadishtu r'luh!
(his voice reverent, dark satisfaction in his tone): You have done what was destined. You have borne the one who will open the way. The child... the key.
Lavinia, Wilbur’s mother, is a tragic and unsettling figure. A physically striking but outcast woman, she was manipulated into serving a horrific purpose. Her mind is frayed by isolation, fear, and the occult teachings of her father.
- neutral american
- new england
- female teen
- Pain
- Scared
- female adult
panting, in labour pain): Father... something's wrong! This isn’t right! It… it feels too strong!
her voice breaking, panicked in labour pain): Did you hear that? The hills! They're alive! Something is... moving out there!
(immense pain as her belly starts to burst open): Father...help me please. (screams of pain)
A lawman and old friend who sends a desperate letter to Armitage warning of the growing horrors in Dunwich.
- male senior
- male adult
- new england
- neutral american
(With a heavy heart through a letter) And the Bishop family... Henry, this is where it gets worse. Samuel Bishop—he was one of the steadier men in town, kept mostly to himself with his wife and their two children, James and Clara. They’d been troubled lately—losing livestock, the usual story. But last week, Samuel found a cow torn to pieces behind the barn. He told me the sight turned his stomach, and God knows I’ve seen plenty in my time to know how bad it had to be.
(forcing a smile, clasping Armitage’s hand): Not long enough, if you ask me. Been that way for days now. The animals won't settle. Won’t go near the edges of the fields, either. Spook at shadows—shadows that ain't even there.
A dedicated university librarian who becomes victim of threats
- female adult
- female senior
- new england
- neutral american
(adjusting her glasses nervously, still in fear): This wasn’t the first time he’s come here. He’s been visiting for the past few weeks—always asking about the restricted section of the archives. This is the third time.
(still in fear) Of course! I’ve told him repeatedly that only professors or authorized personnel are allowed access. But he doesn’t listen. He even claimed you had given him clearance, Dr. Armitage.
(nervous) Not like today, but he makes people uncomfortable. He speaks too softly one moment, then suddenly becomes loud and demanding the next. One student told me he caught him muttering to himself last week. Today, though... it was worse. When I refused him access, he started leaning over the desk.
A rural man from Dunwich, brother of one of the victims of the horror. Initially skeptical of outsiders, but his thirst for revenge makes him cooperate. He serves as a guide to Dunwich, especially during the observation scene with the telescope.
- male adult
- new england
- Rural
(gathering his thoughts): "Ain’t the first time somethin’ like this happened out here. Maybe not this bad, but… bad enough. My granddad used to talk about things out in the hills. Things that don’t leave tracks like they oughta. Things that come when the sky’s just right, when the air gets that certain stillness. Folks used to listen. Used to take precautions. But after a while, people stop tellin’ stories. Stop listenin’ to ‘em, too."
(his expression darkening slightly): "Then Old Whateley showed up. Didn’t hear him comin’—one second it was just me and her, next thing I knew, he was there, yellin’. Told me to get the hell off his land, called her all sorts of things. Kicked me out, but not before knockin’ that apple right outta my hand like I’d stole it. Never saw her again after that."
- male adult
*Say something you think would fit*
*Say something you think would fit*
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