(Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited to remove this message.) Night has fallen and the moon is a
glowing golden orb in the black sky.
See how it shines on the dark back
roads of America and on one road in
particular.
Come with us and we'll take a walk
down the moonlit road and listen to bone
chilling tales told by some of the nation's
best storytellers.
Join us now and simply step out for
the night is waiting and the moon is
full.
Hi, this is Nancy Riggs and the story
I'm going to tell you is called Where's
My Ring.
Have you ever taken something that didn't really
belong to you?
Let me tell you what happened long ago
to two sisters named Martha and Jenny.
Martha and Jenny grew up in Washington Georgia,
a quaint southern town lined with beautiful ornate
homes just west of Augusta.
They grew up just as close as they
could be sharing everything between them.
As young girls they never even kept secrets
from one another and the idea of one
having less than the other was just unimaginable.
But as the 20th century began and the
girls came of marrying age they became a
bit more competitive, especially when it came to
male suitors.
You see Jenny had attracted the gaze of
the local bank manager from a family drenched
in old money dating back generations.
For a time both sisters openly flirted with
the young man.
He was well aware of the sister's mutual
interest and relished all the attention he was
getting.
But in the end he asked Jenny to
be his wife.
So for the first time Martha kept a
secret even her sister didn't know about.
Martha was jealous of Jenny's romance with the
banker.
Not that she thought he was handsome, far
from it she found him rather bookish and
boring, but he had money, lots of it
and with smart finances.
So Jenny always wore the nicest clothes, smelled
like a French perfumery, lived in Washington's nicest
house and sported the prettiest diamond wedding ring
outside of Atlanta.
Oh how Martha just loved that fancy ring.
She loved the way it sparkled brilliantly in
the light and could only imagine what it
would look like on her finger, about the
same size as Jenny's.
Of course Martha didn't say anything to Jenny
and that jealousy festered for years until one
day tragedy struck.
Like many smaller towns at that time Washington
was hit hard by typhoid fever.
Jenny's husband got infected and passed away painfully
in the night.
Martha briefly became the supportive sister again, insisting
the grief-stricken Jenny move in with her
for company.
But it wasn't long before those jealousies bubbled
up to the surface.
Martha made nasty remarks about Jenny having money
and her fancy French perfume smelling up the
house.
Jenny was shocked and saddened by her sister's
greed.
She had always been generous with Martha.
Wasn't her fault Martha was a spinster, whispered
about by the chattering ladies in town?
But she noticed the way Martha would stare
at her ring.
She'd be willing to give her sister almost
everything but not that ring.
As far as she was concerned it was
going straight into the grave with her.
One day Jenny had finally had enough of
the looks, the remarks.
She grabbed her belongings and moved to Augusta
to live with her eldest son.
And the once inseparable sisters ceased all contact.
Years passed until one day Martha received an
urgent telegram from her nephew in Augusta.
To her dismay she read that Jenny had
succumbed to typhoid just like her husband.
Martha then made the long ride along bumpy
dirt roads to Augusta.
There for the first time in years she
saw her sister again.
At her nephew's request she chose Jenny's nicest
dress and began to prepare her for burial.
Suddenly she spotted the ring sparkling brilliantly in
the lamplight.
Martha looked around the room, gently slid that
diamond ring off Jenny's finger and slowly closed
the casket.
She don't need it no more, she figured.
After Jenny's burial Martha traveled back home.
She was right proud of her new diamond
ring.
She loved to watch it sparkle on her
hand.
The town ladies had noticed whispering amongst themselves
with disgust.
But Martha didn't care.
She had finally gotten what she wanted.
She rarely removed it, even sleeping with it
on.
But a few nights after she got home
Martha woke suddenly in her dark bedroom smelling
that pungent French perfume.
A chill wind blew into the room.
She turned slowly to look towards her bedroom
door.
Floating in the hallway was a glowing blue
figure.
It groaned in agony then called out in
a disembodied voice as if from the bottom
of a well, Martha, oh Martha.
Martha was scared half to death.
She knew that voice.
The blue figure was the ghost of Jenny.
Jenny?
She answered what is it?
It's so c-c-cold down here.
The ground is so cold.
Trembling violently Martha pulled the covers up to
her chin.
What do you want Jenny?
Answer me.
It's so cold, she replied again.
The blue light frozen in the doorway.
Then it vanished.
These hauntings continued night after night until finally
Martha decided to seek out some help.
She had heard of a decrepit old man
named William in town long rumored to have
spent time in the Georgia State Sanitarium and
shunned by the locals.
But he also claimed to know a thing
or two about ghosts and the afterlife.
Martha figured her inquiry was safe with him,
another town pariah.
On the man's rickety front porch, choked with
kudzu and rotting furniture, Martha told him about
the hauntings and how she didn't know what
the ghost wanted.
The old man smiled and asked, have you
invited her in and asked her?
That hadn't dawned on Martha.
She was normally too scared to carry on
a long conversation.
So that night when she felt the same
chill wind, smelled that French perfume and saw
the glowing blue light, she blurted out, come
on in Jenny, tell me what's bothering you.
With that, the blue light drifted with a
gust of bone-chilling wind into the bedroom.
It drifted haphazardly around the far corners of
the room.
With a voice noticeably more agitated, it called,
Martha, where is it?
Where's what?
Martha stammered, though she knew the answer.
My ring, wailed the ghost, give me back
my ring.
Martha slid her ring hand slowly under her
back.
Go away ghost, I ain't got nothing of
yours.
You was buried with your ring.
No, I wasn't.
My ring, I want my ring.
Martha rolled over quickly and yanked the covers
over her head.
I told you to go away, now get.
She waited for that perfume fragrance to die
out, for the ghost to simply leave like
it normally did, but instead the smell grew
even stronger enveloping the room.
After a moment of silence, Martha slowly pulled
the covers back down and there was the
blue light floating right beside her bed.
So close she swore she saw the agonized
skeletal face of her sister staring straight through
her.
Frozen in terror, she didn't resist as she
felt the covers ripped off her bed and
her ring hand yanked out from behind her
back.
Agonizing jolts of pain shot through her body.
She swore she heard the ghost scream, give
me back my ring.
Then she passed out.
Martha wasn't seen in town for days after
that.
William was curious to see if she had
followed his advice about the ghost, so we
paid her a visit one afternoon.
He was shocked to find her sitting lifelessly
on her front porch, like his home now
filled with junk and trash.
She stared aimlessly at the ground, dressed in
filthy nightclothes, her eyes bloodshot.
And he saw the beautiful ring was gone,
along with her entire hand.
So friends, try not to waste your energy
coveting stuff, and don't steal, because stealing will
only come back to haunt you.
We hope you enjoyed this story from the
Moonlit Road podcast.
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Visit our website themoonlitroad.com for many more
stories not on the podcast.
This episode was directed by Craig Dominey.
Your storyteller was me, Nancy Riggs.
This story was adapted from folklore by Nancy
Riggs with Craig Dominey.
Audio production by Henry Howard.
The Moonlit Road podcast is a production of
the Moonlit Road LLC.
See you next time.
That concludes this walk down the Moonlit Road,
but you can always come back on your
own.
It will be here all year round, brimming
with captivating and spooky tales for the whole
family.
The Moonlit Road can be found on the
World Wide Web at www.themoonlitroad.com.
The stories are always chilling, and the moon
is always full on the Moonlit Road.