The Christmas Tree Lot at the End of Railroad Avenue

The Ferry at the Edge of Winding Creek

In the autumn of 2019, I took a late-night ferry across Winding Creek, a narrow river in central Ohio. The ferryman was old, silent, and wore a hat pulled low. Halfway across, the engine died, and the boat drifted. In the dark, I heard something moving beneath the hull—a slow, deliberate scraping. The ferryman told me we had to wait. He said the thing under the water had to count every passenger before it would let us cross. I was the only one on board. He said it would take a while. I sat in the cold, listening to the scrape of something circling the boat, and I understood that some crossings cannot be hurried. This is the story of that night, and what I saw when the ferry finally reached the far shore. #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #TheLonelyChapter #FerryAtTheEdgeOfWindingCreek #WindingCreek #OhioHorror #Ferryman #RiverCrossing #AutumnHorror #LateNight #CountingRitual #UnderwaterHorror #SlowDread #Atmospheric #SoloNarration #Luna #EdgeOfSomething #Unresolved Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo [https://buymeacoffee.com/fexingo]

The Road at the Edge of Marston County

In the autumn of 2008, a woman named June pulled off the interstate just past the Marston County line, looking for a gas station that she never found. Instead she found a stretch of road that wasn’t on her map, a road that looped back on itself in ways that made her stomach drop, and a man standing at the edge of the asphalt who told her that the road didn’t like being driven. This episode is about that night and what June saw when she finally got out of her car. It’s about the smell of wet gravel and the sound of tires on dirt where there should have been pavement. It’s about the hour between three and four in the morning when the world feels thin and the map folds itself into a shape you can’t read. Luna retells June’s story the way June told it to her: sitting at a diner counter in the gray light of dawn, her hands shaking around a cup of coffee that had gone cold. #MarstonCounty #TheRoad #June #Autumn2008 #InterstateDiversion #WrongTurn #UnmappedRoad #LostHighway #ThreeAM #DinerCounter #Dawn #ColdCoffee #ShakingHands #RoadThatLoops #ManAtTheEdge #GravelAndTar #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo [https://buymeacoffee.com/fexingo]

The Mirror at the Edge of Stillwater County

In the autumn of 2003, a man named Elias Crane drove his truck to the edge of Stillwater County to haul away an old mirror from a condemned farmhouse. The mirror had been in the family for decades—handed down, he said, from his grandmother, who had kept it covered with a sheet for as long as anyone could remember. Elias was supposed to take it to the dump, but something made him stop on the gravel road outside town, pull it out of the truck bed, and set it upright against a fence post. He tilted it toward the sky. Then he sat on the tailgate and watched. What he saw reflected back was not the empty field behind him. It was the field as it had looked forty years earlier—and a woman standing in the tall grass, staring at him through the glass. This is the story of what Elias told me the next morning, sitting on my porch with his hands shaking around a coffee mug, swearing he would never look into another mirror again. #StillwaterCounty #EliasCrane #TheMirror #FallenOakFarmhouse #Autumn2003 #GravelRoad #Reflection #GrandmothersMirror #TheWomanInTheField #CreekBed #FencePost #Tailgate #CoffeeMug #Porch #Dawn #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #TheLonelyChapter Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo [https://buymeacoffee.com/fexingo]

The Pay-Phone at the Edge of Marston County

October of 2017, on a stretch of county road that snakes through the low hills of Marston County, there used to be a pay-phone. Not a relic on a museum wall, but a real, working pay-phone, bolted to a wooden post, its receiver cradled in a metal housing that rattled when the wind came through. I drove past it for three weeks before I stopped. The same blue truck was always parked nearby, engine running, exhaust curling into the cold morning air. The man who used it never looked up, never spoke, just dialed the same ten digits over and over, stood there with the receiver pressed to his ear, and then hung up. When I finally pulled over and asked, he told me it was his wife. She'd been dead for two years. He'd been calling her voicemail since the day she stopped answering. Only the voicemail had changed. The message was different now. It wasn't her voice anymore. It was something else, something that knew his name and asked him questions no machine should ask. He hung up each time before it finished, but he kept coming back. I stood there in the gravel, and I thought about all the things we reach for, even when we know they're empty. #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #Luna #TheLonelyChapter #MarstonCounty #Payphone #Voicemail #Grief #October #CountyRoad #BlueTruck #DeadWife #WrongVoice #ThingOnTheLine #HangingUp #DrivenByMemory #SmallTownHorror #Atmospheric Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo [https://buymeacoffee.com/fexingo]

The Bench at the Edge of Warlow Lake

Luna takes a detour through the woods of Warlow County on a cold October night and finds a wooden bench facing the lake. A woman named Eleanor has been sitting there every night for weeks, watching the water. But when Luna returns alone the next evening, the bench is empty and a thin layer of ice has formed on the lake's surface overnight—and something is written on the back of the bench in wet ink. The handwriting is Eleanor's, but the message is addressed to someone she lost forty years ago. Luna's lantern flickers as the ice begins to crack from below. #TheBenchAtTheEdgeOfWarlowLake #WarlowCounty #Eleanor #Lake #Bench #October #Midnight #Woods #Grief #Ghost #Letter #Ice #Lantern #Detour #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #TheLonelyChapter #Luna Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo [https://buymeacoffee.com/fexingo]