Episode 2
Chapter 1, Part 2: Bad Men Don't Hesitate Either
A voice calls out from the wreckage.
Someone survived.
After pulling two children from the aftermath of a devastating building collapse, Leonard Voss makes the decision to go back for the stranger trapped inside the ruins.
It should have ended there.
It didn't.
Chapter 1, Part 2: Bad Men Don't Hesitate Either continues Red in the Dark, a serialized psychological horror audio drama rooted in trauma, fractured memory, violence, post-traumatic stress, moral ambiguity, and the things people become when darkness starts feeling familiar.
Inside the wreckage, Leonard finds a father pinned beneath debris. Outside, two children wait for the man who is supposed to come back.
What follows is not just survival.
It's exhaustion. Shock. Adrenaline that refuses to leave the body. The quiet unraveling that begins after the danger is supposed to be over.
But what happens when the worst thing in the room isn't the wreckage?
What happens when the danger follows you home?
Later that night, inside his own house, something begins to surface.
Leonard is no longer alone with his thoughts.
Red in the Dark is an interconnected horror fiction project created by Leonard Voss and told through cinematic audio drama episodes, music, recovered recordings, and standalone stories that slowly reveal a much larger world hiding underneath them.
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
Leonard Voss voiced by Leonard Voss
The voice is voiced by Leonard Voss.
The young boy, voiced by Leonard Voss
The Father, voiced by Leonard Voss.
All other voices are AI generated while we continue seeking voice actors to replace and update those performances.
Email redinthedark.studio@gmail.com if you're interested in participating in the project, from voice acting and production to editing and website support.
Transcript
Red in the dark chapter 1 part 2 bad men don't hesitate either.
Speaker A:The sound came again, distant and muffled.
Speaker B:Please help.
Speaker A:He listened, then looked back at them.
Speaker C:Let go.
Speaker A:They released each other's hands.
Speaker C:Sit.
Speaker A:Backs to the wall, they dropped immediately, pressing together against the concrete.
Speaker C:Stay here.
Speaker C:Don't budge.
Speaker A:The girl swallowed.
Speaker A:That's our dad.
Speaker A:He's.
Speaker C:I know.
Speaker C:Stay here.
Speaker A:He turned toward the branching corridor and went.
Speaker A:The kids stayed pressed to the wall, watching him disappear into the darkness ahead.
Speaker A:The sound pulled him deeper into the wreckage.
Speaker A:The man's voice broke apart and echoed off the walls, distorting itself as it traveled.
Speaker A:The smell of refuse filled the air from a broken sewage pipe.
Speaker A:He slowed without stopping, easing his breathing, listening past the building's protest as it struggled to remain standing.
Speaker A:It came again.
Speaker A:Somebody closer now, please.
Speaker A:Not calling anymore.
Speaker A:Just air forced through.
Speaker A:Pain from the other side of a reinforced door nearly bent in half.
Speaker A:Leonard put his shoulder into the bent door and forced his way inside.
Speaker A:A section of shelving and a structural beam pinned the man, trapping one of his legs high at the thigh.
Speaker A:The weight pressed him into the concrete at an angle.
Speaker A:Dust streaked his face.
Speaker A:Sweat cut clean lines through it.
Speaker A:He looked up when Larry stepped into the room.
Speaker A:Relief rushed out of him.
Speaker B:Oh, thank Christ.
Speaker C:Hey.
Speaker C:Hey.
Speaker B:Somebody's actually here.
Speaker A:He stopped a few feet inside the doorway.
Speaker A:A smile flickered across Larry's face.
Speaker A:Brief, pleasant, even.
Speaker C:Yeah, somebody's here.
Speaker A:His eyes moved over the scene, the shelving, the beam, the angle of the man's leg.
Speaker A:Careful, the man said, watching him.
Speaker B:That whole section's unstable.
Speaker B:Shifts if you breathe wrong.
Speaker A:He tilted his head slightly.
Speaker C:Yeah, I can see that.
Speaker A:Leonard crouched and ran his fingers along the edge of the beam, the touch almost gentle.
Speaker A:The man shifted under the weight, wincing.
Speaker B:My kids.
Speaker B:You see any kids out there?
Speaker B:Two of them.
Speaker B:Girl and a little boy.
Speaker A:His hand stopped.
Speaker C:Kids?
Speaker A:He looked up.
Speaker C:Yeah, I saw them.
Speaker A:The man sagged, relief flooding his face.
Speaker B:They're okay.
Speaker B:They got out.
Speaker A:They're safe.
Speaker A:His smile returned just a fraction wider.
Speaker C:Don't worry about them.
Speaker A:The man exhaled hard.
Speaker B:Okay.
Speaker B:Okay.
Speaker B:Good.
Speaker B:That's.
Speaker B:Thank God.
Speaker A:Leonard stood and turned away, scanning the debris as if time wasn't part of the problem.
Speaker A:He closed his hand around a length of metal pipe, lifted it and turned it once, testing the weight.
Speaker B:Look, I don't mean to rush you,.
Speaker A:The man said, strain creeping back into.
Speaker B:His voice, but this thing's getting worse.
Speaker B:My leg's going numb.
Speaker C:Well, that's not good.
Speaker A:He lowered himself again and slid the pipe toward the gap beneath the beam, positioning it carefully.
Speaker B:Yeah, yeah, that'll work.
Speaker B:You can wedge it under and pry.
Speaker A:Leonard pushed the pipe in a few inches, stopped, pulled it back out, studied it.
Speaker A:He slid it in again, this time at a different angle.
Speaker A:The man watched, impatience breaking through.
Speaker B:Just.
Speaker B:Just get it under there.
Speaker A:Leonard adjusted his grip and pushed down.
Speaker A:Nothing moved.
Speaker A:He shifted his hands and tried again.
Speaker A:Still nothing.
Speaker B:Come on, put your weight into it.
Speaker B:Push harder.
Speaker A:Larry straightened, breathing evenly, the pipe hanging loose in his hands.
Speaker C:Damn.
Speaker C:It's not working.
Speaker A:The man stared at him.
Speaker B:What do you mean it's not working?
Speaker B:You need to get under it and lift.
Speaker A:Leonard looked at him as if he were speaking an ancient language.
Speaker A:The man frowned, confusion creeping in.
Speaker B:Hey.
Speaker B:Do I know you?
Speaker A:Larry's smile fell away, replaced by an exaggerated, almost comical look of confusion.
Speaker C:Maybe.
Speaker A:The man squinted, searching.
Speaker C:Yeah.
Speaker B:Yeah, I've seen you before.
Speaker A:He didn't move.
Speaker B:Where do I.
Speaker A:The man broke off, frustration snapping.
Speaker B:You know what?
Speaker B:I don't care.
Speaker B:Just get this thing off me.
Speaker A:Leonard raised the pipe to waist height, examining it.
Speaker C:Wha.
Speaker B:What are you doing?
Speaker A:The man's voice went tight.
Speaker A:He lifted the pipe higher, bringing it overhead as he spoke, tone light, conversational.
Speaker C:Maybe if I hit it.
Speaker A:The man's eyes widened.
Speaker B:What?
Speaker B:How in the fuck is that supposed to help?
Speaker A:Larry paused, pipe still raised.
Speaker A:He looked down at him, smile twisting, twitching.
Speaker A:His pupils dilated, the last trace of expression draining from his face as his focus narrowed.
Speaker C:It won't.
Speaker C:And I never said anything about saving you.
Speaker A:The pipe came down, a sound like dough hitting a wall.
Speaker A:Bone cracked.
Speaker A:The impact was blunt and immediate.
Speaker A:The man's body jerked once, then went slack.
Speaker A:He freed the pipe with a sick, sucking sound.
Speaker A:Leonard brought the pipe down again, slower this time, angling the blow to match the collapse.
Speaker A:He let the pipe fall across the man's head and shoulders and stepped back.
Speaker A:Dust settled.
Speaker A:He crouched and began arranging the scene, kicking a section of shelving loose, shoving debris into place, grabbing, cracking a ceiling tile where it made sense.
Speaker A:When he finished, the body looked like part of the wreckage.
Speaker A:Leonard straightened, wiped his hands on his pants, the faint smile still there.
Speaker A:Then he turned and walked back toward the corridor.
Speaker A:Unhurried, Leonard walked back through the corridor.
Speaker A:The emergency lights flickered overhead, casting brief pulses of yellow before cutting out again.
Speaker A:His steps stayed even as he moved, his shoulders and neck eased.
Speaker A:His hands loosened at his sides.
Speaker A:The rigid posture relaxed.
Speaker A:His breathing took on a new rhythm.
Speaker A:By the time he reached them, his gait had changed entirely.
Speaker A:The two children were still huddled against the wall, their eyes locked on him.
Speaker A:The moment he stepped into the light, he stopped and lowered himself to their level.
Speaker A:His face was warm, inviting.
Speaker A:Hey, you guys holding up?
Speaker A:The girl nodded, her grip loosening slightly on the boy's hand.
Speaker A:Did you find him?
Speaker A:Leonard's expression changed.
Speaker A:Concern replaced what had been there before I did.
Speaker A:He's pinned pretty badly under some shelving.
Speaker A:I couldn't get him out by myself, but the emergency teams outside can.
Speaker A:We need to get you two out first so they can go in and help him.
Speaker A:That's the deal.
Speaker A:Okay.
Speaker A:You first, then him.
Speaker A:The girl swallowed and nodded.
Speaker A:The boy's face was pale, but he didn't cry.
Speaker A:Okay, larry said as he stood.
Speaker A:Let's get you outside.
Speaker A:He held out his hand.
Speaker A:They rose, still holding on to each other.
Speaker A:Same as before.
Speaker A:Stay close.
Speaker A:Don't let go.
Speaker A:They followed him down the corridor without question.
Speaker A:When the building groaned, he stopped and waited for it to settle.
Speaker A:When he moved, they moved.
Speaker A:The air changed.
Speaker A:Ahead, cooler, cleaner daylight spilled through the torn front.
Speaker A:Leonard guided them out into the open.
Speaker A:Firefighters and paramedics swarmed immediately.
Speaker A:A woman in uniform dropped to her knees in front of the kids.
Speaker D:You're okay.
Speaker D:You're both going to be okay.
Speaker A:He stepped back as another paramedic appeared with blankets.
Speaker A:The girl started crying.
Speaker A:Quiet, shaking sobs.
Speaker A:The boy didn't move.
Speaker A:He stared at Larry, mouth slightly open, unblinking.
Speaker A:Larry smiled gently.
Speaker A:You're safe now, buddy.
Speaker A:The boy kept staring.
Speaker A:The paramedic turned to him.
Speaker D:Hey, sweetie.
Speaker D:Can you tell me your name?
Speaker A:Alex, he whispered.
Speaker A:She looked to the girl.
Speaker D:And you, Samantha?
Speaker A:A firefighter approached, radio in hand, and gestured for Leonard to step aside.
Speaker B:Did you hear or see anyone on your way out?
Speaker A:He asked.
Speaker A:Leonard's expression sobered.
Speaker A:The kid's father.
Speaker A:He was pinned under a beam and some shelving.
Speaker A:He was already gone when I found him.
Speaker A:The firefighter's eyes softened as he gave Leonard an understanding nod.
Speaker A:He raised his radio.
Speaker B:Command, this is Rescue 2.
Speaker B:Civilian reports casualty in the right side basement.
Speaker B:Interior requesting recovery team for full sweep.
Speaker A:The radio crackled confirmation.
Speaker A:The paramedic with the blankets turned back to him.
Speaker A:Penlight already out?
Speaker A:I'm fine, larry said before she could speak.
Speaker A:He took another step back, putting space between himself and the lights.
Speaker A:The noise.
Speaker A:She watched him for a moment, then nodded.
Speaker D:If you want to avoid a crowd, it'll be easier to slip out the back.
Speaker D:Reporters are setting up out front.
Speaker A:Thank you.
Speaker D:If you start feeling dizzy or short of breath later, she added, go to an er.
Speaker A:I will.
Speaker A:I promise.
Speaker A:He glanced back once.
Speaker A:Samantha was talking to a firefighter wrapped in a blanket.
Speaker A:Alex drank water, but his eyes drifted toward Larry again before looking away.
Speaker A:He turned and headed for the alley.
Speaker A:The noise of sirens and radios faded behind him as he slipped through.
Speaker A:By the time he emerged on the other side, the sun was low.
Speaker A:He put his hands in his pockets and walked home.
Speaker A:The bathroom light buzzed as Leonard brushed his teeth.
Speaker A:Spider man pajamas reflected in the mirror.
Speaker A:Foam gathered at the corners of his mouth.
Speaker A:You know, he said around the toothbrush, I was thinking about that comic idea again.
Speaker A:The one with the detective who can see people's last thoughts when he touches them.
Speaker C:Oh, good.
Speaker C:This again.
Speaker A:Larry spat into the sink.
Speaker A:I'm serious.
Speaker A:It's a good concept.
Speaker C:Your drawing looks like a toddler had a seizure while holding a crayon.
Speaker A:That's not the point.
Speaker A:The story works.
Speaker C:The art matters.
Speaker C:When I can't tell if you've drawn a person or a mystery, misshapen potato.
Speaker A:Leonard grinned.
Speaker A:You're just jealous because you can't draw at all.
Speaker C:If I could, I'd drown myself in that tub right now rather than listen to another word about your potato detective.
Speaker A:He laughed and shut off the faucet.
Speaker A:You love it.
Speaker C:I tolerate you.
Speaker C:There's a difference.
Speaker A:He stepped into the hallway, still talking.
Speaker A:The whole point is he doesn't want the ability.
Speaker A:Every time he touches someone who died, he sees what they saw, feels what they felt.
Speaker A:It's torture.
Speaker A:But he keeps doing it because.
Speaker C:Because he's a masochist who makes terrible life choices.
Speaker C:I'm familiar.
Speaker A:Leonard passed the training room.
Speaker A:The heavy bag hung beaten to hell, tape layered over tape.
Speaker A:Thick bands wrapped around the midsection and lower third.
Speaker A:Dark marker lines cut through the tape.
Speaker A:Throat, groin, knee.
Speaker A:The base of the bag was split where it met the floor, rubber torn and flared from repeated impact.
Speaker A:A single framed clipping caught the spill from the hall lamp.
Speaker A:D1 national champion.
Speaker A:He nodded once.
Speaker C:Yes, it's still there.
Speaker C:Yep.
Speaker C:Thrilling.
Speaker A:The next room glowed softly from a desk lamp.
Speaker A:Books crowded the shelves.
Speaker A:A cracked copy of the Art of War lay open on the desk.
Speaker A:Maps covered one wall, roots traced and retraced.
Speaker A:And then the case.
Speaker A:Large, black, locked, industrial.
Speaker A:It took up a chunk of the far wall, bolted in place like it wasn't meant to be moved.
Speaker A:The surface was scarred and dulled, the finish worn thin along the edges where hands had touched it too often.
Speaker A:A heavy padlock sealed it shut.
Speaker A:From the shackle hung a thick braid of dark leather, frayed at the ends, knotted tight around the metal.
Speaker A:His eyes rested on it a moment longer than necessary.
Speaker A:The voice said nothing.
Speaker A:He moved on.
Speaker A:His bedroom waited at the end of the hall, warm light spilling from the lamp on the nightstand, a few posters on the walls, stacks of comics.
Speaker A:The bed already turned down.
Speaker A:Leonard sat and pulled the covers back.
Speaker A:Okay, he said.
Speaker A:That's enough for today.
Speaker C:Thank Christ.
Speaker C:If I have to watch you organize action figures one more time, I'll take us both out the window.
Speaker A:He grinned and lay back, staring at the ceiling.
Speaker A:The lamp stayed on.
Speaker A:Warm, safe.
Speaker A:Good night, larry said softly.
Speaker C:Night, bud.
Speaker A:Then the light went out.
Speaker A:Not the lamp.
Speaker B:Everything.
Speaker A:The hallway vanished, the faint orange glow from the streetlights outside gone.
Speaker A:Total darkness.
Speaker A:Leonard's body locked.
Speaker A:His breath snapped short, trapped halfway.
Speaker A:His hands clenched the sheets, knuckles whitening.
Speaker A:The dark pressed in, thick and heavy, squeezing.
Speaker A:Okay, he whispered.
Speaker A:Okay.
Speaker A:Okay.
Speaker A:His heart slammed against his ribs, loud in his ears, in his throat.
Speaker A:The room was gone, just black and pressure.
Speaker A:Larry.
Speaker A:He called, voice small.
Speaker A:Larry, please.
Speaker C:Yes.
Speaker C:Larry.
Speaker A:That familiar rasp, metallic edge.
Speaker A:Softer now.
Speaker C:Careful.
Speaker A:Larry's breath stuttered, then dragged in deeper.
Speaker C:Hey, you're all right.
Speaker C:I've got you.
Speaker A:The air held in silence.
Speaker C:Power's out.
Speaker C:Street lights, too.
Speaker C:Probably repairs from the building collapse.
Speaker C:They'll have it back on soon.
Speaker A:Larry swallowed.
Speaker A:Can you.
Speaker A:Can you sing for me, please?
Speaker C:Yeah, of course.
Speaker A:The words came slow, deliberate.
Speaker A:Larry mouthed the words as they came, breath hitching, then steadying.
Speaker C:Sun.
Speaker A:Oh, wow.
Speaker A:And it seem the ruins his grips.
Speaker A:The dark stained Larry's body, sank into the mattress.
Speaker A:The last word faded from his lips.
Speaker A:Leonard faded into the dark.
Speaker C:Run.
Speaker C:I like a chase.
Speaker C:I can smell your fear.
Speaker C:Don't move.
Speaker C:Yeah.
Speaker C:Oh, stop it.
Speaker A:It'll be over in a.
