Episodes
The Ring of Cold Spring Road
Summer 1998, a heat wave in rural Pennsylvania. Luna finds a silver ring with a garnet in her grandmother's sewing box on Old Pine Road. That night she tries it on and dreams of a woman in a blue dress walking through a field of goldenrod, calling a name. She wakes to find the ring under her pillow, but she never put it there. Now, decades later, she still hears the whisper of that name in the dark. A story about inheritance, forgetfulness, and the things we choose to wear. #Heirloom…
The Pocket Watch of Ash Grove
Luna inherits her grandmother's pocket watch, frozen at 2:17. The watchmaker in Ash Grove, Vermont, says it's impossible — the mechanism ticks backwards. As Luna listens at night, the ticking grows louder, and she begins to see glimpses of a man her grandmother never spoke of. A slow-burn story of time looping, forgotten grief, and a secret that refuses to stay buried. #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #Heirloom #PocketWatch #AshGrove #Vermont #Clockmaker #TimeLoop #Autumn1987 #Grandmother #Ticking…
The Cameo of Pine Ridge Road
Luna finds an antique cameo brooch tucked in her mother's jewellery box, the ivory profile of a woman she doesn't recognize. The story leads her to Marlow, Ohio, in the fall of 1998, where an elderly neighbor recalls the brooch's original owner: Margaret, who died in a house fire on Pine Ridge Road in 1920. But Margaret's fiancé gave her that cameo before he was killed in the Great War—and the cameo was never recovered from the ashes. Luna's quiet investigation reveals that the crack in the…
The Locket of the Lake House Porch
Luna finds a locket in her mother's vanity—a gold oval with a portrait of a woman she doesn't know. The locket belonged to Eleanor, a woman who lived in a crumbling Victorian on Lake Champlain. In the summer of 1987, Luna's grandmother told her the locket's story: a sailor lost at sea, a lifetime of mourning. But when Luna spent the night in that house, the locket whispered a different truth—and the portrait changed. Now, decades later, she still opens it sometimes, but the face keeps shifting.…
Ribbon of Bell Road
In October of 2007, Luna's cousin Marlene found a velvet ribbon tied to a fence post on Bell Road, a long gravel stretch outside Huntsville, Alabama. The ribbon was deep red, slightly frayed, and smelled of lavender and something metallic. Marlene tied it around her wrist for luck. Within days, she began hearing a child's voice counting at night, and the ribbon would not come off. Luna pieces together what happened from phone calls, a visit to the county archives, and the last time she saw her…
The Locket of White Church Road
Luna recalls a summer night in 1997 on White Church Road, a gravel stretch outside of Gilead, Tennessee. She was thirteen, riding in the back of her uncle's pickup, when they passed a white clapboard church with a single light burning in the bell tower. Her uncle told her about the girl who used to sit in the front pew every night, waiting for her mother to come back from the dead. Luna didn't believe him—until she saw the girl herself, through the window, holding a locket just like the one she…
The Locket of the Lost Daughter of Lone Pine Road
Luna recounts a humid August night on Lone Pine Road, where she met a woman named Elara standing under a flickering streetlamp in a white dress, holding an old locket. Elara claimed the locket had been in her family for generations, but something about the way she spoke—about the portrait inside, about the name that wasn't hers—made Luna uneasy. That night, Luna learned that some heirlooms carry more than memory. A story about inheritance, grief, and the weight of a name that should have stayed…
The Locket of Locust Avenue
A woman returns to her childhood home on Locust Avenue in Huntsville, Alabama, in the autumn of 2019 to clear out her late grandmother's attic. She finds a tarnished locket that once belonged to her great-aunt, who vanished in 1952. The locket contains a lock of dark hair and a tiny photograph—but the face has been scratched out. When she wears it, she starts seeing a woman in old-fashioned clothes standing at the edge of the yard, always at dusk, always watching. She asks her mother about the…
The Comb of Red Clay Hollow
Late autumn in Red Clay Hollow, Tennessee — a dead-end road named after the rust-red dirt that seeps up through the gravel after every rain. Luna stayed one night at a roadside motel whose clerk warned her away from the hollow with a look that said he'd said it too many times before. She walked it anyway, past the boarded-up church, past the single house with the porch light off, to a place where the clay turns almost black and the ground gives slightly underfoot. She found a woman's…
The Locket of Lost Creek Bridge
Luna recalls a spring evening in 1997 on Lost Creek Bridge, where she met a girl named Eliza who wore a locket just like her great-grandmother's. Eliza claimed the locket was a key—not to a lock, but to a memory she couldn't shake. Their conversation under the flickering streetlamp ended with Eliza stepping into the creek and never coming back up. Luna kept the locket, and every time she opens it, she hears water moving somewhere it shouldn't be. A quiet, unresolved encounter about inheritance…
The Locket of Dogwood Creek
One autumn night in 1987, Luna's great-aunt Eleanor went to check on a crying baby in the house she was house-sitting on Dogwood Creek Road—but the baby wasn't real. The locket left on the crib held a portrait of a woman who vanished sixty years earlier. What Luna found in the attic crawlspace changed how she hears a baby's cry in the dark. A slow-burn folk horror about inherited grief and the weight of objects that carry more than memory. #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #Heirloom…
The Locket of Pecan Orchard Road
It's autumn 2023 on Pecan Orchard Road, a gravel lane just outside Opelika, Alabama. Luna's friend Claire inherits her grandmother's farmhouse and finds a tarnished silver locket hidden beneath a loose floorboard in the attic. The locket contains a single strand of hair—not her grandmother's, but a stranger's, coiled like a question mark. Claire wears it, and soon the pecan trees start whispering her name. The nights grow longer, the wind sounds like a woman humming, and the locket's clasp…
The Locket of Sycamore Street
In the autumn of 2004, on a cool October night in the small town of Gilead, Ohio, Luna visits her grandmother's old house on Sycamore Street. What begins as a quiet evening sorting through attic boxes turns into something far stranger when she finds a tarnished locket that doesn't belong to the family—and a voice that seems to be still inside it, asking to be set free. #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #Heirloom #Locket #SycamoreStreet #GileadOhio #Autumn #Attic #Grandmother #FamilyCurse #Spirit…
The Locket of Willow Creek
Luna recalls a rainy December night three years ago when she stopped at a roadside diner in Willow Creek, Arkansas, and met an old woman who told her about a locket that didn't just hold a portrait—it held someone's last breath. The story begins with a cracked vinyl booth and ends in a dark room with a mirror that won't fog. No jump scares. Just the slow, cold feeling of being watched by something that has already seen your end. #TheLocketOfWillowCreek #Heirloom #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast…
The Locket of Painted Post Road
In the fall of 1997, on a stretch of Painted Post Road just outside Elmira, New York, Luna's cousin Margaret found a locket in the tall grass behind the abandoned Petrie funeral home. It looked like the one from their great-grandmother's box, but the portrait inside was wrong — it was a woman Margaret did not know, with dark hollows where her eyes should have been. Margaret took it home, and the house began to change. The clock stopped at 2:17 each morning. Her reflection started to lag. And…
The Locket of Tanglewood Drive
In the summer of 2013, on a dead-end street in Oxford, Mississippi, a woman named Clara inherited her grandmother's locket and discovered it held not a photograph but a lock of hair that refused to decay. As she dug into family records, she learned that the locket had been passed down through generations of women who all died young—and all died with the locket around their necks. When Clara tried to break the chain, the locket began to whisper at night, calling out with her grandmother's voice.…
The Locket of Cypress Creek Road
In the autumn of 2018, on a back road in northern Alabama, I found a silver locket at a flea market. The seller, an old woman with gray hair pulled tight, told me it belonged to a girl who vanished from a town called Cypress Creek in 1947. That night, in my motel room, I opened it. Inside was a lock of hair, dark and fine, wrapped in a scrap of paper with a single date: October 17. I didn't think much of it until I started having dreams—of a house with a porch swing, a woman in a blue dress…
The Hairbrush of Pecan Street
Luna recalls a sweltering July afternoon in 2019 when she stopped at a roadside antique shop on Pecan Street in rural Georgia. Inside, a hairbrush caught her eye—old, blackened silver, bristles still holding dark strands. The shopkeeper, an elderly woman named Esther, grew uneasy when Luna asked about it. That night, brushing her own hair with the brush, Luna felt a cold hand on her scalp. The brush belonged to Esther's sister, who died in that house in 1959. Now, something lingers in the…
The Hairbrush of Mulberry Lane
Luna recalls a winter night on Mulberry Lane, where an antique hairbrush inherited from her great-grandmother began to feel… alive. The bristles, still carrying a faint scent of lavender and dust, seemed to stir on their own. The story unfolds as Luna realizes the brush does not merely hold hair—it holds memory, and the memory is hungry. Set in the small town of Willow Creek, Georgia, in December of 2019, this episode explores the line between heirloom and haunting. No jump scares. Just the…
The Locket of Sycamore Lane (Heirloom Episode 65)
Luna finds an old photograph inside a locket that belonged to her great-grandmother. The photo shows a woman who looks exactly like her, standing in front of a house that burned down before she was born. Over the next few weeks, Luna starts to see the woman in reflections, in dreams, in the corner of her eye. When she visits the site of the old house, she finds a hidden room that wasn't on any blueprint — and a name carved into the floorboards. This episode is about inheritance, repetition, and…
The Mourning Comb of Cypress Creek Road
Late October, 2022. Luna's aunt leaves her a strange inheritance: a black mourning comb from their family's Victorian-era dead. In the attic of a dusty house on Cypress Creek Road, Luna finds a daguerreotype of a woman wearing the comb — and a journal entry dated the day she died. The comb seems to hold a memory, a refusal to let go. Luna combs her hair with it once, and that night she dreams of a music box playing in an empty parlor. The next morning, her hair smells of lilies and dust. She…
The Hairbrush of the Vanity Table
Luna recalls a night in October 2018 when she found an antique hairbrush tucked behind her mother's vanity, its bristles still holding a few strands of hair. She traces the brush to her great-grandmother, who died under strange circumstances in a small house on Mulberry Street in 1923. As Luna holds the brush, she feels an inexplicable pull—a memory not her own—and begins to see flickers of a woman in a mirror that shouldn't exist. The episode weaves between Luna's present and the past, ending…
The Locket of Graveyard Lane
It's October of 2019 when Luna drives through the red dirt roads of Pecan Hollow, Arkansas, to clear out her late aunt's farmhouse. In a forgotten drawer beneath a chipped porcelain sink, she finds a locket — brass, tarnished, and heavier than it ought to be. Inside is a lock of hair, braided tight, and a slip of paper with a single date: October 31, 1893. That night, Luna tries to open it again, but the clasp won't budge. Then her phone buzzes — a text from her aunt's number. The message is…
The Hairbrush of Graveyard Lane
It was October of 1998 when I drove through the town of Linton, Mississippi, on my way to nowhere in particular. A detour brought me to Graveyard Lane — a road that the county map claimed didn't exist. At the end of it stood a house with a single light burning in an upstairs window. I met a woman named Elara who brushed her hair with a brush that had belonged to her mother, and her mother before her, and her mother before that. She told me about the portrait in the locket she never opened. She…
The Hair Comb of Pecan Orchard Road
After inheriting her great-grandmother's vanity, Luna discovers a hair comb carved from bone at the back of a drawer. The comb bears intricate patterns of thorns and a small inscription in a language she can't read. When she uses it to brush her hair before bed, she dreams of a woman in white standing at the edge of a pecan orchard at dusk—and of a man who follows her, carrying a lantern and a shovel. Over successive nights, the dreams sharpen: the woman's name is Rosalind, she was the daughter…
The Hair Ribbon of Tupelo Lane
Summer of 1987, a dusty road outside Oxford, Mississippi. Luna remembers the summer she spent with her cousin Margot at their grandmother's house on Tupelo Lane. Margot was the golden one—pretty, careless, always laughing. But after she found a faded blue hair ribbon in an old trunk in the attic, something shifted. Margot started tying it in her hair every morning, and her laugh got quieter, her eyes darker. Luna watched her cousin unravel, saw her grow thin and hollow-eyed, heard her…
The Hairbrush of White Oak Crossing
Luna recalls a humid August night in White Oak Crossing, Georgia, where a traveling antiques dealer left behind a hairbrush that had belonged to a woman who died in 1903. The brush, still holding strands of auburn hair, carried a scent of lavender and something darker. Luna brushed her own hair with it once, and saw a reflection in the vanity mirror that wasn't hers. She traces the story back to a house fire on Oak Street, a chair left rocking on the porch, and a photograph that changed…
The Hairpin of Blackberry Lane
When Luna's mother sends her to clear out her grandmother's attic, she finds a single tortoiseshell hairpin wrapped in yellowed newspaper. The article is from 1892 — a local woman who vanished from Blackberry Lane, leaving only that same hairpin on her dressing table. Luna takes it home, and that night she dreams of a dirt road under a sickle moon, a woman in a grey dress walking ahead of her, always just out of reach. Each night the dream deepens: the woman turns, but her face is wrong…
The Photograph of Cottonwood Lane
In the autumn of 1987, Luna's great-aunt Clara left her a small tin box containing a single photograph. The picture shows a young woman Luna has never seen before, standing in front of a house on Cottonwood Lane in a town called Westbury. But the photograph is dated 1901, and the woman's clothes are from that era. When Luna visits Westbury, she finds the house still stands, but the woman in the photograph is not in any town record. Then the dreams come—a woman whispering through the walls, a…
The Wedding Band of Mossy Creek Road
In the summer of 2008, Luna's cousin Elodie married into a family with a dark tradition: each bride receives a gold wedding band that has been passed down for generations, worn by every wife before her. But the ring comes with stories — of sleepless nights, of whispers only the wearer can hear, of a presence that grows stronger with each new hand. Elodie, pragmatic and modern, dismissed the tales as superstition. Until the nightmares started. Until she woke to find the ring cold against her…
The Hairbrush of Lovers Lane
Luna recalls a summer night in 1987 when she and her cousin Darla found an old hairbrush at the base of a dead oak on Lovers Lane, a dirt road outside of Millbrook, Alabama. The brush had long black strands still wound in the bristles, and when Darla touched it, she started to hum a lullaby neither of them knew. That night, Luna saw Darla sitting at her vanity, brushing her hair with it, her reflection a stranger. The story unravels into what the brush asked of Darla, and what Luna found in the…
The Family Tree of Mulberry Street
Luna sits at her mother's vanity, turning over a small velvet jewellery box with a single antique locket inside. The locket holds a tiny portrait of a woman she doesn't recognize, but her great-grandmother's hairbrush lies nearby, and the family tree on the wall seems to shift in the candlelight. This episode takes us to Mulberry Street in the fall of 1987, where Luna's great-aunt Eleanor lived alone in a house that breathed. Eleanor collected things—not just furniture, but memories, and she…
The Hairpin of Pecan Hollow Road
Luna recalls a late autumn evening in 2009 on Pecan Hollow Road, a gravel lane outside a small Georgia town called Bixby. She was housesitting for her aunt Nora and found an old tortoiseshell hairpin in a nightstand drawer. That night, she heard footsteps in the attic and found a photograph of a woman wearing the same hairpin, dated 1889. The next morning, the hairpin was gone, but a cold spot remained in the house. Luna brings the listener into her encounter with a history that seemed to reach…
The Compact of Locust Grove Road
A woman's search for a missing compact leads her down Locust Grove Road in the summer of 2003, where the heat hangs thick and the cicadas never stop. She finds the compact in a ditch but something inside it has been waiting. A story about what we carry that carries us back. #LocustGroveRoad #Summer2003 #MossyCreek #CompactMirror #Cicadas #HeatWave #FamilyHeirloom #AntiqueShop #Ditch #Photograph #GreatGrandmother #Vanity #Mirror #SmallTownHorror #AtmosphericHorror #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast…
The Vanity of Mulberry Street
Luna finds an old vanity compact at an estate sale in Mulberry Street, a small Missouri town. The compact once belonged to a woman named Eliza who lived in the 1930s. When Luna opens it, she sees not her own reflection but the face of a young girl who whispers: 'You weren't supposed to find me.' Luna becomes obsessed with learning Eliza's story — and why the compact seems to hold a piece of her soul. Set on a humid October afternoon in 2019, this is a story about inherited grief and the things…
The Portrait Frame of Pecan Hollow Road
A cold February night in 1987. Luna's aunt Clara inherits a Victorian portrait frame from a great-aunt she barely knew, and hangs it in the hallway of her farmhouse on Pecan Hollow Road, just outside Cooter Creek, Missouri. Within a week, the figure in the painting begins to shift — not much, just a fraction of an inch overnight. Clara dismisses it as tricks of memory, until the painted eyes start to follow her daughter's movements. This is the story of what it means to be watched by someone…
The Family Bible of Cypress Creek Road
Luna recalls an autumn evening in 2008, when she visited an old farmhouse on Cypress Creek Road to collect a family bible from a woman named Esther. The bible had been passed down for generations, its pages filled with birth and death dates. But as Luna turned the pages, she found a lock of hair pressed between the leaves, tied with a faded ribbon. Esther grew quiet, then told her about the girl who wore that ribbon — a girl who disappeared in 1892. The story that followed was not one of…
The Powder Compact of Pecan Street
Luna's Aunt Marla was the one who found the compact in the basement of the old Warrington house on Pecan Street, just south of the railroad tracks in El Dorado, Arkansas. A brass powder compact, tarnished green, with a rose etched on the lid. Inside, a face powder that smelled of violets and something else — something that clung to the skin and couldn't be washed off. This is the story of the summer of 2007, the heat that wouldn't break, and the woman who started wearing a veil in July. It's…
The Hair Combs of Hickory Creek Road
In the autumn of 1998, Luna's aunt Marguerite vanished from her farmhouse on Hickory Creek Road, leaving behind only a set of antique hair combs laid out on her dressing table. Luna visits the empty house decades later and discovers the combs hold more than family history—they hold a presence that has been waiting. A slow-burn story about inheritance, silence, and what combs through the dark. #HickoryCreekRoad #AuntMarguerite #antiquehaircombs #familycurse #vanished #1998 #autumn #farmhouse…
The Wedding Veil of Belle Fontaine Road
October 1987, on a two-lane road outside Dumas, Arkansas. My great-aunt June's wedding veil had been in the family for three generations—hand-stitched lace, yellowed with age, kept in a cedar chest at the foot of her bed. When I borrowed it for a Halloween costume, I didn't think much of the faint scent of roses that clung to it, or the way the pins seemed to shift on their own. But at midnight, standing in front of my bedroom mirror, I saw her reflection behind me—not June, but the woman in…
The Portrait Locket of Cypress Creek Road
One August night in 1998, Luna's great-aunt Vera gave her a small velvet box containing an antique portrait locket. Inside was the painted face of a young woman with ash-brown hair and no name. Decades earlier, Vera had found the locket hidden in the wall of a derelict house on Cypress Creek Road, outside Greenville, Mississippi. That night, Luna opened the locket for the first time and saw the portrait change — a detail she has never been able to explain, though she still carries the locket…
The Hair Locket of Cane River Road
Summer 1999. Luna's cousin Margot inherits a locket from their great-aunt Hattie, who lived alone on Cane River Road outside Thibodaux, Louisiana. Inside the locket: not a photograph, but a twist of reddish hair tied with silk thread. Margot wears it to a bonfire party at the old sugar mill. The next morning she can't remember the drive home, and the hair has grown. Luna visits the locket's original owner — a woman named Elodie who drowned in the Cane River in 1912. The hair in the locket was…
The Locket of Mossy Creek Road
November 2022. Luna's friend Callie inherits a Victorian locket from her grandmother's estate in Morgan's Hollow, a speck of a town off the Natchez Trace. Inside the locket: a lock of hair that isn't her grandmother's. Callie starts wearing it out of sentiment, then out of compulsion. The hair changes — grows a shade darker each week, curls tighter against the glass. Luna visits in January to help clean out the house and finds Callie in the dark, tear-streaked, the locket warm to the touch. A…
The Hand Mirror of Mulberry Row
Luna recounts the night her aunt called from a roadside motel outside Port Gibson, Mississippi, in the fall of 1998. The motel was called the Mulberry Row Inn, a place that had been there since the twenties. Her aunt was supposed to be passing through on her way to New Orleans, but she never made it. By the time Luna arrived, the room was empty—except for a hand mirror left on the nightstand. Its silver backing was tarnished, but the glass was clear. And when Luna picked it up, she saw someone…
The Hairbrush of Sweet Gum Hollow
This is the story of a hairbrush that belonged to my great-grandmother, and the night I learned why my mother kept it locked in a cedar chest in the attic. It happened in Sweet Gum Hollow, Alabama, in the autumn of 2019, during a two-week visit to my grandmother's farmhouse. The brush was rosewood with silver bristles, and whenever I touched it, I saw a woman in a green dress standing at the edge of the pecan grove. Not a ghost, exactly—something older, something that had been waiting for…
The Hatpin of Cooter Creek
One humid July evening in 1998, I sat on the front porch of the Blue Moon Motel outside Cooter Creek, Missouri, sharing a cigarette with a woman named Della. She told me about the hatpin her grandmother left her—a thin silver thing with a jet-black head, tucked into a sewing box for thirty years. She wore it to a family reunion that afternoon and felt a cold finger press against her temple just before sundown. That night, we watched the cottonwood shadows stretch across the gravel lot, and I…
The Hand Mirror of Thornwood Avenue
A small antique hand mirror, given to Luna by a woman she barely knew, carries the reflection of a life she never lived. Every time she looks into it, she sees a different face—younger, older, sometimes not quite human. But the worst reflection is the one that smiles back when she's not smiling at all. Set in a lonely rental cottage on a dead-end road outside of Opelika, Alabama, one autumn when the pecan trees were dropping their leaves too early. A story about what it means when an object…
The Family Tree of Sycamore Run
In the autumn of 2004, on a dead-end road called Sycamore Run in rural Tennessee, my great-aunt Edie discovered something wrong with the oak tree in her front yard. It started with the leaves in July — they were the colour of November, brown and curled before their time. Then she found the names carved into the bark, each one dated to a year of a family death. But the last name was not yet carved — it was written in sap, fresh and wet — and it was her own. Before she could tell anyone, the tree…
The Locket of Cold Spring Road
In December of 2022, Luna's cousin Margaret inherited their great-aunt's farmhouse on Cold Spring Road in Blount County, Tennessee. The place came with a brass locket, a story their great-aunt told once and then refused to repeat, and a photograph that doesn't quite make sense. The locket shows a man in a dark suit, circa 1938 — but the date on the back is 1946, and the photograph in the attic shows the same man standing in front of the farmhouse with a woman who looks exactly like Margaret.…
The Hair Ribbon of Cold Spring Road
It's late summer 2007 on Cold Spring Road, just outside a small town called Garnett, and Luna is driving home after a shift at the diner when she sees a girl standing at the edge of the woods—no car, no house, no shoes, just a white dress and a black hair ribbon tied in a perfect bow. She stops. She shouldn't have stopped. The girl doesn't speak, doesn't move, but she points down the road toward an old farmhouse with a light in the upstairs window. Inside that house, Luna finds a bedroom that…
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