Episodes
The Rattle at Moss Hollow
Autumn 1740, Moss Hollow, Massachusetts. Dorcas Crane inherits a locked chest from her grandmother—a chest that should stay closed. But the rattle begins on the third night: a dry, wooden sound from inside. When she opens it, she finds a doll with painted eyes. The second time, the doll holds a mirror. The third time, the mirror shows her own face as an old woman. After she shatters it, the aging starts. She writes to the pastor, who finds her withered and the chest gone. But the rattle follows…
The Diary at Mercy Goodhue's Desk
In the autumn of 1692, a leather-bound diary was found hidden behind a loose stone in the cellar of the old Goodhue house in Ashwell, Massachusetts. Its pages, written by Mercy Goodhue during the weeks before her execution for witchcraft, chronicle a quiet descent—from daily chores and prayers to the slow creep of accusation. But when Luna uncovers the diary in the present, she finds something else: the ink grows darker, the handwriting shifts, and entries begin addressing her by name. The…
The Smoke at Weatherby's Hill
In the autumn of 1688, after the last witch trial in Morrow's End, Thomas Gray swore he saw his wife's shape drawn in the smoke above the bonfire. But it wasn't her—it had too many joints. Luna recounts the quiet horror that followed: ash falling indoors, footprints ending at the hearth, and what Thomas dug up beneath the stake one moonless night. A story about grief, witness, and the thing that stays even after the fire dies. #BurnedAtTheStake #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #WitchTrials…
The Hush That Fell at Holloway Crossing in Winter
In the deep winter of 1772, I found myself at Holloway Crossing, a settlement gripped by an unnatural silence that fell each midnight. The locals called it the Hush—a presence that walked the snow, leaving footsteps that led to doors and stopped. Widow Grace's tavern was the epicenter, and old Silas told me of the bargain made generations ago. When I returned two years later, the Hush had changed. It had learned to enter. My name was written in the Bible left open on the widow's table. Now I…
The Comb at Temperance Ford
In the autumn of 1887, a traveling tinker named Silas Bream passed through Temperance Ford, New York, carrying a single item in his cart: a carved bone comb. Luna recounts the month she spent in that hollow town, where the women who borrowed the comb lost their hair first, then their voices, then their names. The comb was always found on the pillow the morning after, clean and warm, as if it had combed something invisible from the scalp. By the time the frost killed the pumpkins, three women…
The Stitch at Mercy Goodhue's Door
February 1893. A travelling dressmaker arrives at a farmhouse outside Harmony, Missouri, to fit a mourning gown for a widow who has not left her room in three years. The widow's daughter meets her at the gate with a warning: her mother speaks to the dead, and she has been saving a particular dress for someone new. What begins as a simple fitting becomes something far more intimate, as the dressmaker realises the widow has been stitching a garment not for the living — and that the final seam may…
The Crooked Mouth at Haggerty Station
October 1894, Haggerty Station, Indiana. A stop on the night rail where trains run on time but passengers don't always leave. Luna heard the story from a depot agent who watched a woman step off the 11:40 — and then step back onto it, again and again, each time slightly different. The clock in the tower never chimed the same hour twice that night. The agent's name was Eben Stoltz, and he hasn't spoken since. Luna found his logbook in a burned-out depot, the last entry written in a hand that…
The Mark at Temperance Hall
October 1887. In the small town of Temperance, Missouri, a traveling preacher named Asa Dozier held a three-day revival at the Temperance Hall. Luna's grandmother attended on the second night and came home changed—not saved, but marked. The preacher's touch left a cold spot on her collarbone that never warmed, and in the weeks that followed, the whole town began to forget her, one person at a time. By Christmas, she was invisible to everyone except Luna, who watched her grow thin and…
The Hollow at Gideon Tull's Gate
October 1878, a backroad near Marrowbone Church. Luna recalls the night she waited at Gideon Tull's gate, watching a silent procession of figures pass through the frost. Each one carried a lantern that burned without sound, and the last one stopped. The gate was locked that morning. It was open that night. She never learned who let them through, but she still dreams of the hollow scrape of iron against stone. A story of thresholds, of things that cross them when we are not looking, and of the…
The Pane at Gideon Tull's Door
October 1887, outside the hamlet of Marrowbone. Luna's uncle Gideon Tull—a man who never spoke of what he saw in the Rebellion—began boarding up the windows of his cabin one by one. When Luna arrives at his door on a cold autumn night, she finds him gaunt, whispering about a face that appears in the last unboarded pane. Not a reflection. Not a neighbor. Something that has been walking toward his door for three weeks, one pane at a time. The story of what waits outside Gideon's house, and why he…
The Watching at Harker's Ford
Luna visits a small Virginia town in the autumn of 1989, drawn by a story about a man who lost his wife in the river and swore he saw her every night after. The locals warned her away from the ford, but she walked down anyway. What she found was not grief and not haunt—but a cold, patient hunger that had been waiting for someone to finally stop and look. This is a story about the difference between watching and being seen, and the price of letting your eyes adjust to dark water. #HarkersFord…
The Cross at Marrowbone Church
October 1979. Luna's great-aunt Edie lived alone in a hollow south of Marrowbone, Kentucky, in a house with a tin roof and a well that ran rust every spring. She was the one who kept the old ways — the one who could tell you which trees to burn for warmth and which to leave standing. But in the fall of '79, something started scratching at her back door after midnight. Not an animal. Something that knew her name. Edie told Luna about it over the phone, her voice lower than a whisper, and then…
The Collar at Iron Forge Road
A rural mail carrier named Elias Wray vanishes one autumn afternoon on Iron Forge Road, a gravel lane that dead-ends at an abandoned ironworks. His truck is found idling, the engine still warm, the door open, and a single leather dog collar lying on the passenger seat—a collar that never belonged to any dog he knew. As Eli's wife retraces his route, she learns from an old farmer named Thorne that the forge was where the town's last justice was served, a hundred years ago, to a collier accused…
The Nail at Mercy Table's Gate
In the autumn of 1873, Luna travels to the fading crossroads of Mercy Table, Virginia, where an old woman named Hettie Cobb nails a dried skinned hand to her gatepost every evening at dusk. The hand was her daughter's. The gate was meant to keep something out. Neighbors say the knocking stopped the night the nails first went in, but no one goes near the Cobb place after dark. Luna learns that Hettie's daughter did not die; she was taken. And what was taken is not done asking to be let back in.…
The Ashes at Lowfield Crossing
In the late autumn of 1875, a farmer named Elias Thorne found something wrong in his north pasture — a patch of ground that stayed warm long after the sun went down. At first he thought it was an old campfire, but the heat spread, and the grass blackened in a perfect circle that grew wider each night. Luna speaks to an old woman who remembers the year the crossing burned, and what was left behind when the fire finally went out. A story about a debt paid in ash, and the silence that follows.…
The Waning at Frostbite Creek
In the deep winter of 1873, Luna travels to the frozen hamlet of Frostbite Creek, New Hampshire, where a strange silence has fallen over the town. The creek, which has never frozen in living memory, is now a sheet of black ice. The townsfolk whisper of a woman who walks the ice at night, leaving no footprints. Luna stays at the boarding house of Mrs. Harlow, whose daughter vanished two winters ago. As Luna investigates, she learns that the ice is not just water — it is a mirror to something…
The Scrim at Enoch Mott's Window
Luna recalls a night in the fall of '92 when she stopped at a farmhouse outside Tullahoma, Tennessee, to help an old woman who swore her neighbor—a quiet man named Enoch Mott who hadn't left his property in thirty years—was watching her through a window that didn't open from his side. What Luna found when she finally looked through that window was not a face. What she saw has stayed behind her eyes ever since. This is not a ghost story. It is a story about borders—the ones we draw between…
The Dull Knife at Josiah Ward's Table
In the winter of 1887, Luna's great-grandmother was called to the bedside of a dying woman in the town of Coldwater, Tennessee. The woman had not spoken in three days, but on the last night of her life, she opened her mouth and began to hum a hymn that had never been written down. Luna tells the story of what happened when two old women sat alone in a candlelit room and the humming turned into something else—something that had been waiting for the song to be finished. #ColdwaterTennessee…
The Nail at Wayland Cross
In the autumn of 1892, Luna visits the crossroads hamlet of Wayland Cross, where a single iron nail driven into a post oak has held a community's grief at bay for forty years. She meets Ezra Peele, the last man who knows why the nail was put there — and why it must never be pulled. Through his confession, she uncovers a story of a girl called Mercy, a fever that emptied half the town, and a promise made in blood by lantern light. But when Luna returns to the tree alone at midnight, she finds…
The Soot at Amos Pickett's Door
In the autumn of 1892, a traveling carpenter named Elias Bowdrain passed through the village of Opal Hollow, Tennessee, and slept one night in the abandoned cabin of Amos Pickett. By morning, his hands were black with a soot that would not wash off, no matter how hard he scrubbed. The cabin had been sealed for forty years, since Pickett was hanged for a crime no one would name. Elias told me the story twice before he died — once in the churchyard, once on his deathbed — and both times he ended…
The Last Bell at Pardoner's Well
In the fall of 1978, Luna's uncle, a traveling carpenter, took a job rebuilding a church steeple in the forgotten crossroads of Pardoner's Well, Tennessee. The church had been closed for thirty years, but someone had been ringing its bell every night at exactly midnight. Luna visits him one October weekend and witnesses the congregation that never left—a service held in the dark, led by a preacher who died in 1948. The bell rope still sways at the end. No one is pulling it. #PardonersWell…
The Souring at Persimmon Ford
In the autumn of 1887, Luna's great-aunt Elara lived alone on a small homestead outside Persimmon Ford, Tennessee, where the creek ran sweet and the persimmon trees bowed heavy with fruit. That September, a stranger came down the wagon road—a woman in a mud-caked dress who spoke of a sickness in the soil further east. Elara took her in, fed her, listened to her warnings about things that grew where nothing should. By the time the frost came, the persimmons had blackened on the branch, the creek…
The Branding at Simpkins Forge
October 1887. Luna follows a rumor to a blacksmith's shop outside Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, where a widower named Elias Simpkins has not left his forge in three years. Neighbors speak of a low, constant hammering at all hours—but no horses, no plowshares, no orders ever delivered. What Luna finds inside is not a man working metal, but something that has been working him. The anvil is cold. The fire is wrong. And the marks on his chest are not made by any tool he owns. A quiet story about…
The Last Stirring at Stonebriar Corners
November 1887. A traveler stops at a crossroads inn in the hills of eastern Kentucky, hoping only for a warm fire and a hot meal. The innkeeper is a gaunt woman named Ada who speaks in a whisper and whose hands never stop trembling. That night, from the room above the kitchen, the traveler hears a sound she cannot name — not footsteps, not a voice, but a wet rhythmic stirring, like something being turned over in a deep pot. She finds a locked door at the end of the hall. She finds a crack in…
The Cradle at Parsons Ford
October 1887. A young midwife named Elara Wren is called to a farmhouse outside Parsons Ford, Kentucky, to deliver a child that has already been dead three days. The mother insists it is still alive. Elara stays because the night is too dark and the road too long, and because something in the woman's eyes reminds her of the hunger she felt as a girl—the hunger that came from the well behind her own childhood home. What she finds in the cradle is not a corpse. It is something that has learned to…
The Sour Taste at Jonas Well
In the late autumn of 1887, a drought parched the farmlands around Elkhorn, Virginia, and the Well of Jonas — a deep limestone spring that had never run dry — began to yield something other than water. Luna tells the story of Ezra Meeks, a quiet widower whose family had drawn water from that well for three generations. When his neighbor's son first complained of the bitter taste, no one thought much of it. But by the time the first child fell ill, the whole county had drunk from the same stone…
The Tenth Tithe at Shiloh Chapel
In the autumn of 1892, Luna's great-aunt Eliza spent three weeks as housekeeper at Shiloh Chapel, a small Methodist church outside Misenheimer, North Carolina. The congregation had dwindled to eleven souls, and every Sunday the collection plate came back lighter than the week before. Then the new preacher arrived—a man named Asa Darrow who never raised his voice, never quoted scripture, and never blinked. Within a month the pews were full, the offerings fat, and the faithful spoke of a presence…
The Pit at Lowry Pasture
Luna recalls the summer of 1897 in Lowry, Kentucky, where a drought drove cattle to a hidden pit on the edge of the Holloway farm. The cattle were found dead—not from thirst, but from something that seemed to reach up from the earth itself. Luna's uncle, who owned the neighboring plot, told her about the night he walked out to the pit with a lantern and a rope. He didn't tell her what he saw, but he buried the rope the next day. When Luna visited the pasture years later, the pit had been filled…
The Weighing at Allgood Bridge
In the winter of 1987, a produce hauler named Ray Blevins took an overloaded load of apples across the old covered bridge at Allgood Creek, two miles outside Harper's Ferry. The bridge held, but the old scale house — abandoned for decades — showed a weight that made no sense. Ray came back to town pale as paper, his rig empty and his story half-told. I drove out there the next afternoon, before the state could cordon it off. The air under those wooden trusses smelled like scorched oak and…
The Scorched Sill at Burnt Tree Hollow
In the autumn of 1993, a woman named Esther Coombs wrote Luna a letter about a boarded-up window in her ancestral home in Burnt Tree Hollow. Every midnight, the glass glows from within with a steady orange light. The story behind it reaches back to the winter of 1812, when Esther's great-grandmother Ruth was burned for witchcraft — but didn't burn. Now, the last Coombs lives alone with the light, the creaking rocker, and the memory of a curse that was really a promise. #BurntTreeHollow…
The Warden Fire at Lost Creek Station
November 1893. A train station in the salt flats of western Kansas, a hundred miles from the nearest town. A woman buys a ticket for a train that doesn't exist. She has been buying that ticket every Thursday for seven years. The stationmaster's log shows the same entry: 'One passage to Archer's Field. No such destination on any map.' The ticket agent who sold her the last one — a young man named Elias Coy — didn't understand what he was handing over until he followed her onto the platform after…
The Socket at Cold Harbor Mill
October 1923. A young woman named Elara Hinton walks into the abandoned Cold Harbor Mill on the edge of town, chasing the sound of a loom that stopped running thirty years ago. She finds a working wooden socket, still warm, and a winding sheet woven from a fabric that should not exist. Luna recounts the last known hours of the Hinton family, the mill's dark pact with the river, and the thing that waits for anyone who pulls the thread. A story about inheritance and the fabric of grief.…
The Well at Stillwater Farm
In the autumn of 1987, a drought settled over the town of Stillwater, Kansas. The wells ran dry one by one, but the old stone well at the edge of the Mercer farm never did. People said the water tasted strange — metallic, with a sweetness that clung to the tongue. Luna's friend, Sarah Mercer, asked her to stay one night to watch the well. What rose from it that night wasn't water. A story about thirst, inheritance, and the price of abundance. #TheWellAtStillwaterFarm #StillwaterKansas…
The Bell at Old Hebron Church
November 1887. In the town of Hebron Hollow, a church bell rings at midnight three nights in a row — but the church has been abandoned for forty years, its bell tower collapsed and its bell buried in rubble. Luna's great-aunt was the one who went to investigate, and what she found in the foundation stones has stayed in the family as a whispered warning. This is not a story about hauntings. It is about something that waited for the bell to fall silent before it began to listen. A quiet episode…
The Halter at Ragged Point Stables
In the autumn of 1872, Luna spent three weeks at Ragged Point Stables in the foothills of the Blue Ridge, cataloging the estate of a horse breeder who had vanished mid-summer. The horses were fine — too fine, she thought, for a man who had left no note and no trace. But it was the tack room that unsettled her: a single halter hung empty, the leather still warm to the touch, and a nameplate that read 'Asa.' The stablehand, a boy named Elias, told her things she wished she had never asked. What…
The Communion of the Willow at Larkin's Creek
October 1887. A smallpox quarantine camp in the boggy lowlands of Larkin's Creek, Pennsylvania. Luna's great-aunt Elinora was sent there as a nurse and never spoke of it again—until Luna found her journal, bound in twine and stained with something that wasn't water. Inside, the entries start clinical: names, fevers, doses of willow bark tea. Then the handwriting changes. The patients start talking about a woman who comes to them at night, who smells of wet earth and wears a dress made of roots.…
The Rope at Gallows Hollow Bridge
October 1879, Gallows Hollow, Massachusetts. The town hangs a man named Silas Coombs for a crime he may not have committed. But when the rope refuses to break, and the hanged man begins to speak from the scaffold, Luna hears a confession that rewrites everything she believed about justice, mercy, and the weight of a noose. #GallowsHollow #SilasCoombs #TheRope #Execution #HangedMan #Confession #SpectralVoice #October1879 #Massachusetts #Justice #Mercy #Scaffold #Noose #Unforgiven #Forgiveness…
The Second Sowing at Mercy Ridge
October 1887. Luna travels to Mercy Ridge, a hamlet of twelve souls in the Pennsylvania wilds, to collect the journal of a woman named Elsbeth Harlow. Elsbeth's family vanished the previous spring—her husband and two sons walked into a cornfield one morning and never came back. The journal tells of a second sowing: seeds that should not have been planted, and the thing that grew in their place. Luna reads the last entry by lamplight in a cabin at the field's edge. The corn is still standing…
The Last Bough at Thornwood Grove
In the autumn of 1897, Luna stops at a crossroads near Thornwood Grove, Ohio, where a young woman named Esther has been accused of witchcraft. The town elders have already lit the pyre, but Esther claims she can prove her innocence — if Luna will witness what she calls 'the last bough.' What Luna sees in the barn that night, and what follows the burning, is not a story of justice. It is a story of what the forest remembers when the fire goes out. A slow-burn tale of faith, fear, and the debt…
The Tithing at Seven Fires Hollow
In the autumn of 1887, Luna traveled to the remote settlement of Seven Fires Hollow, deep in the Missouri woods, where a single family had been paying a tithe to something in the root cellar for three generations. The price of protection was a child, left alone in the dark for one night every harvest moon. This year, the mother chose her youngest—a girl of seven named Eliza. Luna arrived the following morning to find the cellar door still open, the lantern cold, and the girl sitting in the mud…
The Ledger at Harrod's Creek
September 1887. Luna finds herself in the dusty back room of a general store in the small Kentucky town of Harrod's Creek, helping a widow settle her late husband's accounts. The store has been closed for months, and the air is thick with the smell of burlap and dried apples. But it's not the inventory that draws her attention — it's a leather-bound ledger hidden beneath the counter's false bottom. Inside, the entries start as ordinary trade records: molasses, lamp oil, nails. Then they shift.…
The Rasp at Cider Creek Mill
October 1987, a mile outside the town of Hemlock, New York. The old Cider Creek Mill had been abandoned since the sixties, but the rasp of its grindstone never stopped — not at night. I was seventeen, and I dared my cousin to prove he wasn't afraid. What we found inside wasn't rust or rot. It was wet, and it was waiting. A story about a dare gone wrong, a grandpa's lie, and the sound a dead man's hand still makes when it pulls the mill lever. No ghosts, no shadows — just the rasp, and the smell…
The Marriage Contract at Fenton Hollow
In the winter of 1887, a young woman named Eliza Thorne arrived at Fenton Hollow, a settlement in the Pennsylvania backwoods, to marry a man she had never met. Her new husband, Josiah Fenton, was a widower with a reputation for piety. But the marriage contract she signed had a clause she didn't notice—a line about 'the inheritance of the firstborn.' The night she gave birth, the midwife fled. Eliza lived long enough to tell the story to her sister, who wrote it down in a family Bible. This…
The Scythe on the Ridge at Harlow's Run
Late October 1987, a back road in Harlow's Run, Pennsylvania. Luna's uncle told her about the Scythe — a figure that appeared on the ridge above the old Marsten property every seven years, always after a death in the town. She didn't believe him, not until the night of the 23rd, when she drove out to see for herself. No one had died in months. But something was waiting on that ridge, and it wasn't holding a scythe. It was holding a hand-written list of names. The last one was hers — dated for…
The Third Nail at Potter's Field
Luna finds herself in the dry August heat of southern Illinois, standing at the edge of a pauper's graveyard that was closed in 1929. The man who keeps the place now—a quiet groundskeeper with dirt under his nails—tells her why he stopped digging. Something underneath that hill was not a body, and it has been counting the nails in every coffin lid for ninety years. Luna waits with him as the sun sets, watches the lantern light catch on a single brass headstone marker, and hears the sound of a…
The Loom at Widow Hollow
November 1889. On a rain-soaked night in the hill town of Widow Hollow, Luna takes shelter in an abandoned weaver's cottage and finds a loom still threaded with black wool. The cloth on the beam shows the town's history in woven images — every marriage, every death, every secret. As she watches, the shuttle moves on its own, adding a new figure to the pattern: a woman standing at a window, watching her. The story of the weaver who saw too much, and what became of her when she tried to change…
The Ferryman at Mosby's Landing
October 1978. Luna's great-uncle told her never to cross the river after dark, but she did anyway — and met the ferryman who has been rowing the same boat for a hundred and forty years. On Mosby's Landing, just outside of Harlow, Maine, the fog doesn't lift until noon, and the ferryman doesn't speak. He just holds out his hand for the fare: a copper coin, or a secret you've never told. Luna paid with the name of the boy she loved and lost at seventeen. This is what she saw on the water that…
The Dress on Gable Road at Dusk
October 1923. A traveling seamstress arrives in the hamlet of Thornwood, New York, hired to stitch mourning clothes for a family that lost three daughters to fever in a single week. She works by lamplight in a cold parlor, cutting black silk she did not bring with her. The eldest daughter's dress keeps fitting itself to a body that is no longer in the house. The seamstress pins and hems and does not ask questions, because the pay is good and the house is quiet. But on the third night, she hears…
The Shingle Gauge at Drowning Creek Road
November of 1997, just outside the village of Hobb's End. A county surveyor named Elias Thorne was sent to measure a stretch of Drowning Creek Road that had never been properly mapped — a half-mile of dirt and gravel that curved behind the old Baptist church and into the treeline. He brought a steel chain, a compass, a theodolite, and a shingle gauge. He was supposed to be gone three days. On the second afternoon, his truck was found idling at the dead end, door open, a single leather work boot…
The Drowned Bell at Mercy Creek
In the autumn of 1987, Luna's cousin Thomas took a job as night watchman at a church on the outskirts of Mercy Creek, a town named for the creek that ran through it. The church had been abandoned for years, its bell tower silent, the bell itself lost to the creek during a flood decades ago. But on the night of the fall equinox, Thomas heard it ringing from beneath the water. This episode is about what he carried up from the streambed, and what followed him home. A story of a debt unmarked, a…
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